Divorce Papers

Even though he was at the birth when I hemorrhaged, my ex-husband wanted more children. Even though he saw the back pain I was in during the pregnancy, he wanted what he wanted. He seemed not to notice that I was out of breath, with heart palpitations. He conveniently overlooked the part where I was bedridden from two mild concussions and a mis-prescribed thyroid medication. He wanted more babies from my body. I was like another animal that he owned on his farm. He managed the livestock, and he wanted my body to produce male farmhands and heirs. He was so disappointed in his choice of a healer wife. In exasperation, he would tell me that his friend’s wife had 6 babies. Why couldn’t I be a sturdy farm girl like that? One day, he told me that I was beautiful, which was my first warning sign, because he hadn’t given me a compliment in as long as I could remember. Then, he said he was going to the grocery store. When my husband came back from the store, he had no groceries, but handed me divorce papers.

I will never forget the eery, creepy, satisfied grin on his face as he sat back in his chair, so proud of himself. (Apparently, he pulled the same exact act on his first and third wives too.) I was stunned. I cried, not for him, but for our daughter who would be apart from me, and have a stepmother someday. I did not know that I was seeing a vision when I begged him, “What if you leave me, chasing your dream of more children, but, like your last wife, your next wife can’t have any children either?” And that is exactly what happened. She could not. And he left her too. 

To heal the creepy feeling of this memory, I take myself back there to that 220 year old cabin. I cry as I feel the energy in the kitchen, as if I am there. I can feel the sick energy in the man, called “husband.” I shiver as I see the hand-sized “wood spiders” in the walls of the cabin, that would scurry out and crawl down the log walls to get to coffee grounds or chocolate, like caffeine monsters. God help her. Help the girl, Ariel, trapped in the cabin. Run, Ariel, run! I call on the Light. In that hell of a cabin in West Virginia, I call on my Angels to come and save me. I see my family—my parents and siblings, carrying my boxes of belongings out. Rescue me.

 I envision: I am in outer space. I turn and see him gripping onto the end of a long rope that is somehow connected to me. I pull out my silver glowing white knife. I slice the cord. He falls, screaming backwards into the darkness…into the black. I shoot forward, like an arrow…so fast…untethered.I ask my Angels to heal my throat…the tears in my throat. The pain of many lifetimes with such a man.

Release me now, from generations of powerful women, held back by the greediest of men. I sit up straight. I breathe into my throat. My spine begins to snake and adjust as white light moves through me. An Angel swoops in from behind me,  reaches around my shoulders, and cups her hands in front of my throat. I take a deep, deep breath and my shoulders drop. From the Angel’s healing hands, I feel loved and cared for. I rewrite this earth plane experience.

In a perfect world, the farmer man would not have tried to hammer and smash me into his version of a wife, like a perfect hay bale. He would have actually loved me, the spirit, Ariel. He would have co-created life with me, and asked me how I am. And what did I dream of next? He would have joined me and worked with me, as I evolved and changed due to health issues, and career goals. With this new scene, I feel happy, like I’ve read a sweet fairy tale.

That past horror film in the cabin in the hollow, now feels like a shimmering tale of happiness, as I see the new scene of loving kindness. The silver lining: Thank you, Angels. Thank you so much for getting me out of there. My wings were rotting. Generations of farmer patterns were weaving my wings into the fields they had owned for over 200 years. If I had stayed any longer, there would be no repairing them. I could never have untangled my wings from the raked windrows of hay and twine. Thank you for saving me. Thank you for revealing the darkness. Beneath the cute grin and wavy hair, there lived the snake with the poisonous tongue. Thank you for carrying me far far away west, away from the oppression. Thank you for a life of freedom. 

My Prayer: Please help me to let go of my disgust for the farmer man. If I ever have to see him again, help me to see him as a character in my play, who catapulted me, the heroine, forward in my life and career. The man who blasted me out of isolation and into the world as a healer. The character in my movie who ripped me out of the confining role of wifedom and pushed me to become a great healer. 

Message from my Angels: “We love you. Angels on Earth don’t necessarily crank out babies. So cute that you tried to be a farmer’s wife.” I laugh outright at their sense of humor. You know something is healed when you can laugh out loud. “What were you thinking?!” They laugh and tease me. I take a deep deep breath. I was young. I thought I wanted the country life, living off the land like my parents did. My Angels say, “But your parents are earth signs. You are a healer, meant to go into the world and spread your light. The farm life is for domesticated animals and birds. Fly away. Fly far, and keep your eyes to the horizon.”Now what do I feel: I feel wise, like I have really lived. My eyes are closed and I am rocking slightly forward and back. My light in my body is bluish white like, white clouds in a blue sky.