Hat In Hand

Three days ago, I made it through what would have been my 21st anniversary.  I was at peace!!  To celebrate, I moved the song Hat in Hand to the top of my ReverbNation song list.  Please visit http://www.reverbnation.com/robynebyrdde to listen.  This is the song I wrote after a time of much healing and progress in my recovery from divorce.  Following is the essay I wrote about the song.

Part One

Hat in Hand is another mostly channeled song. It was a gift from heaven. I received it because I chose to be kind and supportive to people for whom I felt full of hate, anger and judgment. In the Spring of 2013, my ex-husband and the woman he left me for were furloughed from their jobs while the business they worked for relocated. The move took longer than expected and they became quite pressed financially.

My ex called and said he wanted to come by and talk with me. Now, those kinds of calls are never good. So, when he came over, I expected him to ask for money, and despite the magnitude of my anger and judgment for him and my out and out hatred for her, I searched my heart, and I knew I would never see them put on the street. So despite the ever constant rage that had made me sick from months and months of stuffing it down, I had resolved to help them.

As it turned out, he did not ask me for that. He asked me how to go about cashing his last IRA. It made me so sad. My ex had been more than fair in the divorce. Essentially, he left with his guitars, his amp and speaker cabinet, his bicycles, his clothes and the old car. Significantly, he did not touch my retirement. He knew he had a right to part of it, yet he knowingly declined it. I will always remember his decency in this choice. On my way home from work on the day I had resolved to help them, the angels put this song in my head.

Some would think my ex deserved to suffer for leaving his wife and children and that his hardship was karmic pay back. Although I was in a place of deep darkness and suffering because of his abandonment, I did not wish to see him devastated. I didn’t want him to be happy, but neither did I seek his ruin.

On September 19, 2010, I dreamt of a door with a giant white star on it. The star was made of concentric rows of white and silver garland that had started to unravel. It was so big that its tips reached beyond the left side of the door.

One year later to the day, my ex came home from work and told me he was in love with another woman. With one sentence, he destroyed my vision of the rest of my life: one in which we raised our children together and helped them raise their children, one in which we remained together, always there for each other. I fought with everything I had to save my marriage. It was clear to me within about three months that all my efforts were in vain.

In my ensuing state of despondency, I became so ill that I began to hemorrhage and required major surgery. Words cannot describe my emotional, psychological and spiritual suffering. Those who have survived an unwanted divorce, one in which there are young children, I know will understand me. I don’t think it’s possible for other people to grasp it. You simply cannot and will not summon that degree of misery into your understanding unless it’s forced upon you.

My first imperative was to keep my children in a state of peace and innocence as long as possible, so we carried on in a state of false normalcy. Not one word or action suggested the dark fate before our family to our children until seven months later when we talked with them during spring break, when they would have time to adjust at least a little before returning to school.

Because we had an essentially silent divorce, free of the relief valve of screaming and throwing things, I kept a lot inside. That approach made me very sick. I lost a lot of weight and took quite some time recovering from a long, involved surgery.

My thoughts strayed not infrequently to extreme violence. While my exterior remained subdued, internally I spent quite a lot of time and energy conjuring extravagant acts, the kind that make the evening news and get you the death penalty. Fortunately, thoughts can be checked, and those vengeful dreams never saw the light of day.

Instead, I found myself growing weary of rage, tired of hate, yet unable to change. Not quite two years after that fateful September, I recognized my helplessness. I was unable to get myself to a place of forgiveness, unable to stop feeling violent rage whenever her name was spoken, whenever the thought of her entered my mind. It was safer for me to focus my anger upon her, as I never had to see her. So, there it grew so large, it was suffocating me and leaving me joyless.

In a state of hopelessness, I handed it over to my angels. One day I simply admitted to them that I could not change. I could not forgive. I asked them to help me. I really wanted to let it go, but just did not know how.

I truly believe that when you have faith, heaven answers you. Every time. Without fail. You just have to know your answer has come when it’s handed to you. The answer heaven gave me was a thought. The thought that entered my mind, the thought that the angels sent me was the key to my healing.

It occurred to me that I would no longer permit myself to think or say anything ugly about the woman my husband left me for. When the thought of her or her name came up, all I would allow myself to do would be to picture her face set against a bright blue sky with sunshine upon her. She would radiate health and happiness. No word would be thought or spoken. Just that picture. That is all I would allow myself.

After making this resolution, I slipped up only twice, and all the rest of the time, my mind went to this picture and this feeling whenever I experienced the thought or mention of her name. It changed the energy of our relationship completely. I’m not quite sure how long it took. I didn’t make special notes in my journal regarding the day I made this resolution; however, I did make a journal entry of the first day I allowed my children to spend time with Bryan and Emily. It was 10/5/2013. And, a little over two months later, Emily and I cooked Christmas dinner together and enjoyed the holidays as family.

That’s what a miracle looks like. Emily is a soul who has travelled with me for many life times. I am grateful to her for her courage in helping me to heal karma from a past life. I am grateful to her for her love and support that I now enjoy abundantly in this life time.

Part Two

I am grateful to Emily for her love and support that I now enjoy abundantly in this life. I am grateful to her for courage in helping me to heal karma from a past life. In agreeing to come to earth again, in part, to help her soul mate with this healing, she understood the risk she took in doing so: the first time she came to my house after the divorce and sat down to talk with me, she thanked me for not killing her.

You can bet, when the stakes are this high, there is some kind of a karmic prequel in play. In this case, Bryan and Emily helped me heal karma from the very first past life I saw when I started exploring my prior incarnations. I know this was important healing because I was able to clearly see who I was in this past life the very first time I tried doing past life regressions. It took me a while to believe that what I saw was real.

To explain this lifetime, I will borrow from an essay I wrote for my last band, gash gold vermilion. That band did a song called “Perfecting,” which pertained to this past life. Since I’ve started making music again, I have had a natural inclination to write a story about each song. It is interesting to me that one of the great psychic intuitives that I see regularly (Mary Roach) said that I was to come to the front of the stage and to tell stories. So, here’s the story I’ve shared before about this past life:

I tried my first past life regression in a small room at the back of the Aquarian Bookstore (www.theaquarianbookshop.com) in Richmond, Virginia in the fall of 2009. Joan Wash (www.yoursoulsource.com) led the regression. I have to say I was shocked that it worked. Part of me thought I was making it up, but at the same time, it seemed too weird to make up.

After leading us in a group hypnotherapy into our subconscious, the first thing Joan told us to focus on was our feet. The feet I saw were absolutely beautiful. Joan then had us look at ourselves. I was drop dead gorgeous. I could not believe the flawless beauty I beheld. I was a young American Indian woman. I did not have a particular sense of the historical time period I was viewing, except that it was before the dawn of industrialized culture, electricity, etc. I wore a dress of animal skin and was barefoot.

I had a sense that I was in Virginia, near the Appalachian mountains. I was at the edge of a wood that looked out onto a field of high, brown grass. There were mountains in the near distance. Sunlight spilled onto the field. Dusk neared. I was touched by the peace and beauty of the scene before me.

I became aware that I was alone. Completely alone. In total isolation. I wondered what had happened to my people. Had they been massacred? Joan told us if we saw or felt something we didn’t understand to ask our spirit guide to explain. (That, by the way, was the first time I had ever addressed my spirit guide or even knew I had one.)

As soon as I asked my spirit guide to help me understand why I was alone I gained an awareness that I had been banished. When I first saw my feet, they had red toe nail polish. I couldn’t understand this at first because the red polish was anachronistic given my dress and my “feeling” of what the time period was. I then understood that the red polish was meant to communicate other information: the nature of the misconduct that led to my exile.

So, the first past life I saw was that of a young Native American beauty who had committed adultery and was judged by her people and exiled to isolation, starvation, exposure and death. What was the healing to be done? I died alone, cold and hungry because of the judgment of others. I know that a lesson that seems to be ever present for me is to put aside my own judgment of others and equally important, perhaps even more important, to forgive those who judge me.

This isn’t bragging by any means, but I think I’ve gone quite a ways towards mastery on this lesson thanks to Emily and Bryan. I overcame my judgment of another who stood in the same shoes I stood in long ago. I did not commit myself to a lifetime of judgment of her; rather, I forgave her completely, fully, honestly and truly. She is my friend, soul mate and part of my family.

For a third time, I will say: I am grateful to Emily for her love and support that I now enjoy abundantly in this life. I am grateful to her for courage in helping me to heal karma from a past life.

By the way, speaking of synchronicities and knowing you’re on the right track: I am finishing this essay today, 4/9/2014, one year to the day after I laid down the first draft of Hat in Hand on my computer. 4/9/2013. That is no coincidence. The numerology for the day I made this song was 28 which reduces to 10 which reduces to 1. 10 is the number of ending and 1 the number of beginning. There is a beginning in every ending.

 

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