Since that trip to the shamanic healer, my son had ups and downs with his eyesight and the disease he suffered from. I continued to spend the majority of my time searching for alternative therapy for him and he acquiesced to the treatments, typically with disdain and cynicism.
I spent a good deal of the rest of my time looking at why I would have created this scenario in my reality. After all, if we do create it all, I must have created this, either by ‘making’ it happen or ‘letting’ it happen. There are no exceptions, right? Then wasn’t I creating or letting my son having this disease? I had a great deal of confusion around this topic.
But I am nothing if not persistent. I continued to work on the only thing I had control over, myself. I looked at the parts of me that wanted to ‘control’ this situation. I looked at the parts of me that didn’t believe I could have impact on my son. I let go of the control. I changed the beliefs. But because my son was not yet an adult, I remained his champion and made it my responsibility to find answers.
One day he came home from school in obvious eye pain. I drove him to the doctor immediately, as fast as I could, with him crying and screaming in the back seat. Once seated in the exam chair he inexplicably fell asleep. I looked quizzically at the doctor.
“The body has amazing ways to deal with pain. If pain becomes too severe, the body will simply shut down. He is asleep so he can avoid consciously feeling the pain,” he explained. He was given eye drops to stop the pain and scheduled for surgery the following week.
How do you love someone more than life itself, and still be ok with decisions that result in pain and tragedy? How do you not beat yourself up thinking you had somehow ‘let’ this happen? Simple. By realizing this is a free will universe.
And like the love the Goddess and God have for us, the highest level of love honors that free will, and does not seek to control, even if we know it is for someone’s own good. Sometimes finding that line between helping and controlling, allowing children to take responsibility for their own lives and being a responsible parent is difficult.
We do create it all. Each of us. Individually. And yet, paradoxically, we also have impact on each other. Our energy has impact. Our prayers have impact. Our love has impact.
Almost a decade after that first surgery my son was still dealing with this disease. The disease itself causes other diseases, and he developed glaucoma as well as cataracts. He underwent surgeries for both diseases and just after a second glaucoma related surgery he called me from the surgeon’s office.
“Mom, something is wrong. The doctor says my retina has detached and wants me to see a retina specialist tonight.”
My throat closed. I knew this could very likely mean he would lose his eye. I had two friends who had retinal detachment and it was touch and go even with healthy eyes, requiring days of lying face down in order to allow the greatest chance of success after re-attachment surgery.
I knew one of my son’s greatest fears was wearing a glass eye (after the fear of being totally blind). People ask regularly why his eyes look funny, and he’s very sensitive about looking ‘strange’. This news was horrible.
I tried not to let him sense my fear. I asked him to call me as soon as he was finished with the next appointment. I hung up and went into action.
First, I had to get someone to him ASAP. If he learned he may lose his eye, I didn’t want him to be alone. I was an hour away and could never make it in time, so I called my fiancé to meet my son and support him emotionally.
I then called three powerful friends, to send prayers and healing energy to him.
Only then, did I sit down and get very, very clear. I realized he had chosen this disease for some reason, on a soul level (being a childhood disease) and it was not up to me to fix it for him or take responsibility for it. I also realized he had created this specific nightmare of being perilously close to losing his eye, for some reason. And yet there was a reason I was in this reality as well.
I wanted to help him, but I wouldn’t rob him of a lesson he had chosen on some level to learn. I went into meditation, and had a talk with his Higher Self.
“Ok,” I began, “My son is in trouble right now. He is perilously close to losing his eye,” I said mentally to her. My eyes welled up with tears.
“I love my son, more than words can say, and I want to give him energy, light, love and healing and it would be my preference that this possibility of a retina detachment totally disappears… but I respect and honor his choice. Please use this energy for his highest and best good.”
And then I let go of trying to control the outcome. I would trust his Higher Self. I had (almost) done what I could.
I went back to thinking about me, and the world I was creating. I wanted less suffering in my world. I wanted less pain. I would do what I could about that.
I went into another meditation. I imagined myself later that night, being ecstatically happy that my fears hadn’t manifest, and my son and his eyes were fine. I felt how that would feel, and a sense of peace came over me.
And I knew now, I had done what I could.
I came out of mediation and continued to prepare dinner, forcing myself to stay calm and centered as I did so.
After an hour passed, I could no longer stand the wait. I called my fiancé, needing to know!
“Oh, yeah, I was just going to call you,” he said. “Everything is fine. Apparently the first surgeon made a mistake, and the retina was not detached after all.”
Mistake… yeah, right.
I called and thanked my physical friends who had sent energy.
And I stopped and silently thanked my non-physical friends who had done the same.
In joyous creation,