Love Story

Posted on: Feb 14, 2017

During a recent unseasonably warm and sunny day, as I was lounging on my sofa and attempting to nap through an apple cider vinegar and bentonite clay facemask (which are sensational, btw), I was distracted by a voice wafting through my living room window. At first I thought it was another version of a usual occurrence – passersby often engage in chat or song or old school boom box serenades down rue d’Ilka, but after ten seconds or so I realized someone had chosen the sidewalk directly in front of my house as their spot to leave a break-up voicemail.

The sudden plunge into a stranger’s vulnerable intimate moment felt awkward. It also felt irritating, too, an extra-intangible space invasion. I briefly considered removing myself from the situation – do I give her privacy? Has she forfeited her right to said privacy by standing on my lawn? Well, now I can’t close the window because she’ll see me. Really, girl, you couldn’t make it to the corner? – before I remembered where I was and that vocal trespassing cancels out eavesdropping. My renter’s insurance says so. Also, our house is a vortex and I’m pretty sure that, on some level, Someone sensed it. So I decided to see what would happen if I treated the situation as an opportunity to hold space for another being’s liberation (which seems, more and more, to be part of my whole point).

I requested and received Someone’s psychic permission to give her a golden sun. The Nuurvana tribe LOVES golden suns for good reason. They’re an amazing delivery system for one’s unique source energy. Think custom fuel for your mind-body-spirit with the benefits of (among other things): fresh-pressed juice/vitamins/orgasms/a nap. Fast-acting with no side effects, and all for the price of a thought.

Anyway, here’s the really good part: the entire time I was experiencing my should-I-stay-or-go shenanigans, I was obviously also listening to Someone talk, and within seconds of receiving her sun, her voice changed. Like, 180 degrees, Diana Prince/Wonder Woman transformation. It’d started tenuous, pitched high with questions: “I can’t do this anymore?” and – in the space of a sentence – became grounded and vibrant. It lowered two octaves. Even her word choice transformed: “I deserve more than you’re willing to offer. And it’s no one’s fault.”

I might have clapped.

She said more after that, but I didn’t hear much of it. She’d found her legs, and continued on her way. Still speaking her piece all the way to the corner, and maybe beyond. And while I have no other evidence that my actions improved the situation for her other, it sure was lovely for me, and in so being, my memory of Someone resides on a high vibration, which is enough to scooch us all a little closer to the light.

And that’s just one way I can use my superpowers. How can you use yours?

Shine on,
Ilka

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2 responses to “Love Story”

  1. Thianita says:

    Wow. That’s an amazing shift. What a blessing to catalyze. And so it is.