Authors: Vivienne Harris-Scott
The
same goes with Luca
’
s
death. I know it sounds callous, but when you examine the situation in a cold
and clinical manner, you know I
’
m
right. I could have let the pain encompass me, but then, would I even be here
to talk about it? Not sure. People do die of grief or never recover from a
loss.
The
price for staying alive was to distance myself. And I have done it.
((~~!~~))
“
You
swept everything under the carpet so you could keep on living and now you want
to confront it all?
”
the woman says, shaking her head, her face showing derision, if not disbelief.
“
That
’
s admirable, but I
’
m not a therapist,
”
continues the shaman intrigued by the
woman in front of her.
“
I don
’
t need a therapist.
”
The woman genuinely laughs, almost
carefree,
“…
Because
I know exactly what my problems are. I don
’
t need two sessions per week for them to
creep up out of my subconscious and reveal themselves to me. I know who I am,
what I
’
ve
done, and where I want to go.
”
She
licks her lips and adds in a serious tone,
“
What I want is just get there. What I need
is a road map so I can go back to life. I lost my faith and probably my soul
the minute my son died. Something is missing in me
…”
she sighs,
”…
and I need to get it back. Or get
something else that will allow me to get ready to go back, and that
’
s why I
’
m here
…”
she settles her hands still on the table,
and looking at her straight in the eyes, explains,
“
I need to prepare myself. I will not hide
for the remainder of my life. I need spiritual help to get to that place
in time when I
’
m
ready. I hear you have done miracles with much more damaged people.
”
she concludes, her eyes focused on the
small woman in front of her.
And
she exclaims, almost sheepishly,
“
Besides,
I take it God hasn
’
t
forsaken me completely, since you sort of found me
…
I believe there is a reason for that
…”
The
woman
’
s
smile broaden as she thinks back to their encounter on the beach a week prior,
and finally asks,
“
When can you move here?
”
“
Today.
”
she replies, knowing, this is the first
day of her new life. The birth date of the new Vi.
((~~!~~))
Ana.
Ana
with one
n
. Who would have thought the woman who helped me rebuild a new
self, carries the same name as the one pushing me over the edge?
Oh,
God you have a wicked sense of humour
…
Ana
helped me, and I
’
d
forever be grateful to her. She is a shaman. The funny thing is before meeting
her, I had absolutely no idea what shamanism was and to be honest, I kind of laughed
at all this new age philosophy that seems to have overtaken people in need of
new ideals since the 70
’
s.
I had my Christian faith and that was it. Until Luca
’
s death.
Then,
that was gone. I mean, I
’
ve
never been overly religious, or a bigot, but I always believed God was
protecting me through my trials and tribulations. I always had faith, and my
soul was still there. Until my son
’
s
death. Both left my body the minute I realized life itself had left Luca
’
s.
When
I met Ana, and she asked me to move in with her into her house, so we could
tackle my mental and spiritual recovery head on, I didn
’
t hesitate a second because I had nothing
more to lose. I didn
’
t
know what we would be doing or even how long it would take, but this was
literally my last chance at life.
Curiously,
the first thing she did for me was to restore my pride. Of all things, I didn
’
t expect to start there, but she
explained, pride was going to be my fuel to come back from whatever dark place
seems to have engulfed me.
Pride.
One of the seven cardinal sins. The one you
’
re supposed to let go of.
Pride
to be the woman I was. Pride to have survived the rape and the cancer twice.
Pride to have given birth to healthy son, and been a mother, against all odds.
Pride to have admitted my crime to my husband and to God, the two people who
really mattered in these circumstances. Pride to still be standing in spite of
it all. Pride to have a desire to pursue living, when I had nothing to live
for.
Yes,
my pride first, then my soul, because clearly in her eyes it had indeed left
me.
A
restored pride will help my soul return. And I would be able to somehow
survive, function, and go back to life.
But,
don
’
t
get it wrong. To my pride was attached a profound humility in knowing the only
reason I was still alive was by the grace of the universe giving me strength
when I had reached utter despair and the point of no return, leading and
carrying me through the maze of life, bringing me there to get the tools to
start afresh.
Interesting
approach wouldn
’
t
you say?
Unorthodox
for sure, but after all, don
’
t
they say God works in mysterious ways?
Fates
lead me to Ana when I had lost it all. And I have always believed in signs.
Her
teachings, her calmness and complete communion with the natural elements
brought me back to being functional, to being somewhat human, and not just a
void individual.
Because
there is a difference between being self-reliant, which I was, and alienated
from the world, and alienation is what will destroy you if you
’
re not careful and don
’
t take steps to prevent it.
Luckily,
I knew the difference and realized early on what was happening to me from the
minute Luca died.
Ana
helped me heal, regain my power, and reach a better self.
Thanks
of her, my soul returned and I became attuned with my faith again.
I
was able to properly mourn my son.
I
was able to finish my PhD at long last.
I
gained control over my new self.
Thanks
to Ana
’
s
wisdom, her healing methods and her teachings, I gained a new outlook on life itself,
became more versed than I ever thought possible about the human soul and its
failings.
I
re-emerged from my time in Langkawi as a new woman.
A
calmer, simpler one.
((~~!~~))
I
lived with Ana for seven months before returning to my brother
’
s house that was only a few miles away.
That
’
s when I made the decision to truly get
organized so I could actually live the life I wanted. I had decided the first
order of business was to be free of all monetary contingents. I had been lucky
enough in my life to never really be in need in that department, and knew, I
could rely on my professional skills to remain independent, but I needed an
outlet.
Law
had been my life, before it was interrupted by Ethan incidence in it; it was
time to get back to it.
From
what Kevin had emailed me, Ethan career
’
s had ended in shambles, and he had barely
avoided prison. His public outcry for revenge over it had gone to dust but
Kevin had made me swear to never return anywhere near Australia, and he had
forwarded me papers to get a quick Caribbean divorce to put my past and husband
where they both belonged: behind me.
I
obliged him because Ethan was the only one who knew what I had done to our son,
and I knew, more than any ruined career, making me pay for this alone was
sufficient motive for him to hate me, track me down and exact vengeance.
Kevin
was right on one count, I needed protection from Ethan.
I
was going back to Europe, and start a new life.
Berlin
was my first stop. Deric was presenting his new 2007 ready-to-wear collection,
and within two weeks, I had my first client waiting for me.
My
new life was beginning. A simple life, with no remains of the previous one, and
no remain of my previous self. I swore to myself, I would no longer get hurt by
the hands of others - I wouldn
’
t
let anyone get close enough- nor hurt anyone with my hands; this would be my
atonement.
My
future was defined, settled, and uncomplicated. I would not be a wife, a lover,
or a mother. I would be Vi, the professional only, deriving joy from my friendships
only.
That
’
s all I
’
d need. All I
’
d chose to have.
I
would not let my emotions run my life ever again.
I
was at peace. Finally.
((~~!~~))
Vi
and Kevin
“
Are
you sure?
”
she asks lowly.
“
Yes.
”
he asserts in a calm voice.
A
silent pause settles between the two friends until she agrees to his peculiar
demand,
“
All right then. I will get Deric to go to
Paris tomorrow, get all the documents you want and forward them to you in Lyon.
They
’
re
at my dad
’
s
and I obviously can
’
t
go there myself
…”
she says, determination in her tone.
“
Birth certificate, death certificate, her
passport, and all of your own papers. Every single one Vi
…”
He repeats.