Remembering my mother fondly, I stroke the velvet leaves of my African Violet plant. She loved these plants and I had given her one for Mother’s Day on more than one occasion. On her kitchen windowsill, dappled in sunlight filtering through her lacey white curtains, they proudly sat. She told me many times they held a connection to me.
It had been a tough year after my divorce, and being a single mother in a high pressure full time job was taking its toll on me. My ex husband was still harrassing me, stalking me, and generally doing his best to make me miserable. I was wishing I had never met him in the first place, and wondered how different my life would have been, when I had a flashback. Sitting at the registry table after our wedding, pen in hand poised to sign my new signature, a vivid vision came to me that sent chills down my spine. I’d seen the day I would regret marrying him.
Mum would ring me up all worried.“Are you alright love? The violet plant you gave me last year is wilting and looking sad!” She’d be spot on, too, something horrible would be going on in my life. Then we’d talk about it and I’d receive good advice with loads of empathy. Contrarily, if the violets were in glorious splendour, she knew I was flourishing and happy. This whole thing with the violets confounded me. They never failed to deliver the right message to my mother about me, and I didn’t understand it for a while.
The other thing Mum was passionate about was the 22nd of any month being a black day, but if the 22nd fell on a Tuesday, you knew it would be beyond a joke how many things would go wrong. I think it must be to do with that curse she told me about, when one of her uncles put a curse on the family after some feud. These days, I notice at times when the day just isn’t flowing right, that on the calendar it says it’s the 22nd.
As I look back now, my turning point was when I was 27. I’d learned that Mum had a Gift, and that I had it too, it had come from her. We always knew what each other were thinking, simultaneously bursting into giggles suddenly, without saying a word (this would really annoy Dad!). Curious about our Gift, I went to bookshops and bought anything about the spiritual path in life that I could find. Before long, I was an expert on crystals, Buddha’s writings, essential oils, and the Law of Attraction. Angel and fairy figurines adorned my office at work, and my living room at home. Mum was pleased to see all this, but neither of us told Dad. It was our secret.
One day, I became aware of my hands getting very hot while I was applying a bandaid to my son. He said something about a tickle under his skin. Not knowing what on Earth had happened there, at first I tossed it aside to a back corner of my mind. But it happened more often so I had to find out what it was! Wounds would heal must faster than usual when this happened.
These days I am a qualified Reiki 2 practitioner and I smile at those early days. My Reiki came in very strong once I was initiated, because of the Gift I’d been given. Mum had told me she had willed this gift into me during her pregnancy, that I would have a more valuable gift than she, a more useful one she said. It’s been a blessing and a curse for me though. It caused me to lose my job.
Assistant to surgeons, typing their dictated letters was the relaxing part of my job. Working up the patients was the demanding part, and we had 3 rooms to keep Doctor flowing as he demanded. My passion was with this job, I loved it, and it paid me well enough for my son and I to live in comfort with careful budgeting. The Gift was busy in that place, recognising immediately an urgent case, isolating that patient and lying in wait for Doctor to emerge to snatch him up and hoist him over to the suffering patient. Knowing how to communicate with deaf people, with speech impeded people, difficult people – I was so effective calming down a difficult patient, they all got sent to me.
I’d been working there for 7 years when it happened. I lost my clinical detachment. Suddenly one day, I felt everything the couple in the room were feeling, felt their fear, heard their worries. It was such an intense experience, I had to excuse myself from the room as my eyes filled with tears. This sort of thing kept happening, and when it became so frequent I was losing my ability to cope, I toddled off to the doctor. He said I had burn-out depression and gave some anti-depressants.
While the depression lifted, my new enemy anxiety got stronger. It was scary feeling everything. Pubs were the worst. One time at our local pub my boyfriend frequented, as we were walking through, one man who passed me gave me an energetic kick in the back. I felt it as real as if he had physically done it. Shopping centres became a nightmare. So many people, all their energies bombarding me.
I smile quietly to myself, remembering those times and feeling blessed they were behind me. These days I had mastered the problem. By conscious choice, I decided not to allow other peope’s energies to interfere with my own anymore. Mum would always be impervious to your mood and energy, and now I can be too.
The Violet Gift my mother passed on to me, has been transferred to all flowering plants, and vines. My plants will flourish where anyone else’s just can’t even survive. The Gift I received from Mum is exactly as she wished it to be, and more.