Relationship Villains: The Planning Session.
It’s hard to believe that you and I agreed to hurt each other like this, to tear each other apart and watch the pieces drop to the ground, to leave them there, not go to them, not pick them up, not clean them off, but just to leave them lying paralyzed and alone on the battlefield covered in muddy footprints as we both turn our backs and walk away.
It’s hard to believe in the midst of this overwhelming pain that you did this for me, not to me.
It’s hard to believe that we planned this pain together, a growth opportunity of epic proportions.
It’s hard to believe that we sat in an otherworldly conference room with Divine if/then statements using a flow chart from Source.
“If by the time I am 58 I’ve yet to wake up to the truth of my pain, to who I really am, you will come into my world from the most unlikely of places, gently lead me to the truth, stand by me, offer to be my partner in healing, acknowledge the deep healing I have also gifted you, then we’ll move forward together, continuing the opening, the expansion, the give and take, the forgiveness and the learning of the evolutionary growth relationship.”
“Agreed!” we both sing, a sacred mutual promise right then and there, the familiar Soul Contract enacted.
“If either of us runs, if either is too scared to follow through on the pact, if it is too much, if in our humanness we decide we do not have the courage, then we consent, right here, right now, to bring the other to their darkness, bringing stuck, lifelong pain to the surface, abandoning one another, forcing each to their knees then leaving them completely alone in their personal hell to die another day and ultimately wake up to the truth of life and of all that is.”
We stare into the heavenly, luminous eyes of the other, knowing that we are, always have been, and always will be, perfect love and light, yet grappling with the remembrance of the last time we worked together, the other lifetimes where we failed, a faint hint of the depths of human pain we’ve enacted together and apart in other incarnations, knowing that we’ve never been able to see this mission through to its completion no matter what sacred scenarios we’ve created.
“Yes, game on!” we both cheer, giddy, with a pinky promise, a fist bump, a high five, and a mutual being of pure love-and-light booty smack.
We are ambitious souls, you and me.
We both piled much on our human plates before we even met in this lifetime, much to be processed, worked through and healed.
Maybe we were unrealistic.
Maybe it was all just too much. Maybe we bit off more than we could chew. Maybe it can’t be healed here on this planet, this time around, or in a million other lifetimes.
Maybe it’s time to return to Source and admit it cannot be done, that we’ve failed and are unable to graduate from the curriculum we designed for our studies on this Earth School.
Maybe this level of human pain cannot see the light and cannot be healed by the truth of all that is.
Maybe in this lifetime, we will always be villains to each other.
Maybe our higher selves are too far away from our bodies, maybe we can’t tune in to their guidance, maybe it’s too scary, totally overwhelming, maybe the steel armor of distrust and pain is too thick for the truth to penetrate.
Or maybe, just maybe, there is the faintest remembrance of our light bodies’ pinky promise, goosebumps on your skin as you feel the high five through the so-thin veil, and maybe, just maybe, you will remember, through your seething hatred of me, that we did all this out of perfect love, that all on this planet is done out of perfect love.
And maybe, just maybe, that remembrance will bring us to the graduation of rising up from our victimhood and, finally, after too many lifetimes of pain, healing our way back to the truth of all that is and to Divine love.
And maybe, just maybe, this time, love will win.
Christie Del Vesco is a College Administrator and Professor, a Universalist Minister, a member of the RAINN (Rape, Abuse, & Incest National Network) Speakers Bureau and single mom. She’s a children’s advocate, a survivor of many forms of sexual violence, and a voice for the survivors who have yet to find their own. Chris is a firm believer that we go through what we do, to help others when they go through the same. She also believes if we would all just “be the change,” we can change the world.