Tuesday, May 31, 2011

Soulful Medicine

by Jillian Maas Backman

As an intuitive life coach I find it very rewarding to write encouraging words which inspire hope and change to all that read my blog posts. This one was suppose to cover the intrinsic benefits from the practice of meditation. However, life has a funny way of changing directions without your permission. There are times when roles reverse themselves with a blink of an eye and the life coach becomes a student in the course of life on purpose.

I was asked to join the team of Time’s Up authors because of my diverse background in both life coaching and intuitive sensing. It lends itself to an interesting perspective of both intellectual thought and soulful insights that are unique to all of us. I have also been quietly involved behind the scenes in dozens of unsolved missing person cases over the years, and have been quite happy to convey intuitive messages to those much more capable than I to implement progress to every case. It has afforded me the opportunity to create a deliberate separation from those directly involved. More importantly, keeps me grounded in my own intuitive space for clarity without outside distractions.

Since involving myself in the Time’s Up movement I have seen post after post of heartbreaking accounts of missing person cases, and unsolved mysteries occurring throughout America every day. It has become so prevalent in all communities there is no escaping the indisputable fact that each one of us will probably be personally touched by this human epidemic at some point in our life.

You would think working so closely in this field I would be prepared for whatever comes my way. Growing up in the church, I was faced with the undeniable truth of human tribulations on a regular basis. However, no matter how many times you experience first-hand suffrage through the eyes of another you never get used to sensing the toll it takes on a human soul to endure the loss through tragic circumstances.

I recently crossed paths with a man in a nearby community that was directly involved in an unsolved missing person’s case. In fact, it was the father of the missing child. As he began to recite his story I found myself lost in his sorrow as a mother and an intuitive. I immediately began searching inside myself, attempting to gather up some insightful intuitive wisdom to fill the silence between us, possibly easing his aching heart for just a moment. There was nothing appropriate that could convey his loss was my loss. His human confusion was now a part of my human confusion. Two strangers struggling awkwardly towards the same outcome, a higher understanding of what he and his family were going through.

As a natural born healer we are trained to jump directly into “saving mode.” I was drawn to provide some kind of clarity to this man’s desperate disillusion and supply him with appropriate intuitive answers to his unsolvable reality of human experiences. I could not bring his child back home or make his family feel better emotionally, mentally, physically, or spiritually. I had nothing but love to share with him. Love of the energy kind. The soulful medicine that can heal the deepest human wounds anyone can withstand.

I will probably never see this gentle lost father ever again, but the loss of his child will be forever in my heart. He brought forth a lesson I shall never forget. There may be times in the future when I become too comfortable in my separate isolation from the world at large. Hopefully I will never become complacent with the intuitive work at hand and remember each family is unique in processing their own grief. As healers, we should let their specialness be our guide to uncovering unseen clues from the universe.

As we parted ways, both turned to a tried and true method of human coping that supersedes all man-made grief. He asked me if I would pray for his child. I did what this distressed father asked me to do. I prayed. I prayed for his family as a mother and an intuitive interpreter for peace in the distant future for all those involved.

In ever-growing gratitude,

Jillian Maas Backman

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