I was listening to Wayne Dyer's The Power of Intention the other morning on the drive to work. The program ended and I was just about to turn off the car when the CD continued with some bonus material. Wayne began telling the story of hating his father for deserting him, his brothers and his mother when he was a little boy. I had heard this story before and almost stepped out of the car. Instead, something said, listen, and listen deeply. I did. As the story unfolded, my tears began. This time I allowed the story into my heart, not just my intellect.
In each cell, I felt the sadness and anguish of my child-self as I heard my mother's voice tell anyone she met, "You know, I never wanted a child. She's a miracle." And then proudly, "I didn't hold her or name her for two weeks." In truth, she never did.