Everything in our world–and other worlds–has a story; whether it be a thread of grass, a bird, a human being, or a child’s old rocking chair at an antique store. Scientists, physicists, theologians, and mystics can argue to the cows come home about the nature and origins of existence, but I’ll remain content with my own theory: the universe is made up of stories.
I am a writer; I have always seen everyday life in metaphor, long before I knew what this was. As a child, I would wrinkle my nose at words I did not like and say to my mother, “I love that word…” and tell her when it felt pleasing when certain syllables slipped off my tongue. Stories in many forms became part of my life; some of them found their way onto paper, others in songs. Some remained locked inside my body, deep inside cellular consciousness until illness gave them a voice.
When I studied therapeutic bodywork 13 years ago, I underwent a 2-year certification program packed into 11 challenging, life-changing months. During those 11 months, I learned more about the soul than the human body, more about cellular-emotional connections than insertion points of muscles, and more about my deeply-held traumas than my straight jacket-tight scapulae. My world stood still when our dynamic instructor said, “Every body tells a story,” and nothing was ever quite the same way again. I looked at people differently–learned how to read movement and pain patterns, sometimes more emotional in origin than physical. I noticed trees with lightning scars and street cats with bitten-off ears. The world suddenly became a pain map that I could read well. But none of it truly helped me to unlock my own patterns of pain and illness with lasting effects.
2 years ago, my life changed from the inside out, and I experienced an implosion of awakening that sent me on a journey that would include unforeseen, life-altering healing, and my body was healed after decades of battling chronic, sometimes-debilitating sickness. This process did not include doctors, alternative medicine, prayer, bodywork, positive thinking or anything else I had lived by for so many years with limited results. As I was being transformed, I had significant doubts–so much so, that I expected failure. But failure is not possible, I learned, when we address the deep roots of trauma and work with frequency. Each cell in our bodies holds a frequency and a consciousness that is separate from each other and separate from the psyche, and only a radical shift in vibration can alter it. The body learns at an early age how to cope, survive, and compensate; physiological patterns spring up from intense emotion, trauma, and discord, and these imprints put down deep roots on the unseen, subtle, energetic level long before physical or emotional symptoms manifest.
Changing our frequency one cell at a time is not a one-size-fits-all, but I can say that the energy of love and self-love must be the core foundation or results will only be partial or temporary. Emotions, feelings, traumas, and thoughts must fully be acknowledged, dredged up from the unconscious mire without guilt, judgement, or self-monitoring. Only then can the energetic channels begin to open and the imprints be re-written. No imprint is ever dissolved, only its frequency raised and transformed. I sit here tonight as if I have been incarnated into a new body; even physical problems I had suffered since childhood have been resolved. I would never believe this story had I not lived this miracle. I could not be able to fathom this cellular change unless I had experienced it firsthand.
But transformation is not a one-time fix. Yes, old imprints have been re-written, but it is up to me to prevent new ones from becoming toxic programs. I tend to my emotions, all of them, even the ugly ones. I tend to my thoughts and treat myself with tender, loving care. I value my energy, my time, my talent, my compassion, and my existence above all else. I tend to my Shakti/Sexual energy and allow it to infuse every cell of consciousness so that I can be a channel for the Creative Force/Goddess energy. I weed out toxic patterns, people, and places–and live accordingly. Most of all, I listen to the stories inside my muscles, my nerves, my organs; I listen to illness and injury. I listen to my life like a piece of music–and pay very close attention to where there is discord or harmony.
If our bodies are the stories, we are also the storytellers, and this alone has been the single, greatest realization and tool during this journey of personal healing. Each day is a new chapter, a new chance to honor our atomic songs and cellular poetry. Understanding the unseen origins and patterns of our physical crosses makes healing not only possible but probable; once we uncover the cause, the cure is inevitable. Our stories can be revised and celebrated.
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Connect with author-artist Marlaina Donato at: www.MarlainaDonato.com
