My Father’s Song

As I scroll through my social media news feed tonight, I find myself encountering many ads and posts about upcoming Father’s Day.  It is beautiful.  It is painful.  Bittersweet memories drift in and out like the pollen and rose petals being carried today on the wings of the winds.  June brings up a multi-faceted love and grief, joy and sweetness, sorrow and laughter as I remember my father.  My heart is full to the brim of all that I could share or say.
 
Many people have inquired recently about how I entered the world of massage therapy.  It is not an easy question to answer.  Sometimes it brings up painful memories.  At other times, I think only of great beauty and love.  I can clearly point to the care-giving process I went through that helped my father prepare to pass through the veil nearly three years ago.  And yet, long before that, I was called to be a healer, a helper, a soul-tender.
 
My father always encouraged me, as he encouraged all in our family, to follow the calling of our hearts.  I suppose that is part of what brought me to the naming of my business: Song of the Dancing Heart.  My heart’s song has always led me to the service of Divine.  My deepest calling is to be a conduit of Divine Love and Healing in the world.  This has taken many forms over the years.
 
My heart’s song was shared in my thirteen years as a nanny.  It echoed in cathedrals and tiny chapels during my decade of ministry — children’s, youth, family, adult and elder ministries over the years until I was called away from Church to return to my first love of Mother Earth and all of Her glorious Beings.  The song grew soft and tender during my years as a hospice caregiver and the years of preparing my father for his passing.  And now my heart’s song is growing strong again — rich and full, complex and nuanced — in the blending of healing touch, compassion, counsel and community-building as Song of the Dancing Heart, LLC begins to sprout its wings.
 
There is yet more harmony to be developed in the beauty of my part in the sacred Song of the Dancing Heart.  I feel something rising up within, something that has yet to take shape.  As I await more instruction and clarity from the realm of Divine, I close my eyes and listen.  I hear echoes of my father’s song — a song that his spirit sang as it passed through my hands while I placed them on his heart in the presence of the ancestors gathering nearby on that final day.
 
I smile and I give thanks as I notice the nuances of his song that have influenced my own, as well as those notes that are clearly mine and not his.  I am thankful for my father’s song.  I am thankful for the layered complexity of my own.  And I wonder how your part intertwines with ours, with the ancestors, and with the voices that will join the Great Song in the time that is yet to come.
 

What will the full Divine musical score sound like when all is said and done?  I wonder.  For now, it is enough to gather with Fire, to share space with drumming and dance, to sit together in counsel and to give and receive healing in body, mind and spirit through compassionate touch.  That, for now, is where you’ll hear my heart’s song most clearly.

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