Yesterday, I Cried_ Celebrating the Lessons of Living and Loving - Iyanla Vanzant [18]
“Ask yourself why,” he said. “What is or was the energy behind each of these things in your life? What is the experience that brings you the greatest amount of joy? What is the one task that you are least fond of doing? Again, ask yourself why. If you were to die today, what is the one thing everyone who knows you would say about you? What would you want them to say? Why wouldn’t or couldn’t they say what you would want them to say?” I was taking notes.
“Once you have answered each of these questions, put your list away, then review it three months later, every three months for the rest of your life. That way you will always be in touch with yourself.”
We spent the rest of the evening talking about the requirements for being a priest and a person of good character. Balé emphasized that the person always comes first.
“You may want to be as spiritual as all get out, but you are a human being, prone to making mistakes. When you do make a mistake, only a good, solid character will help you move through it.”
That is what this day and this bath and these tears were about: building character and integrity. I was out of integrity. I was thinking things about someone without honestly sharing what I felt. I was talking to other people about the situation, which meant I mistrusted what I knew to be true. Somehow, I had forgotten that you must put your spiritual knowledge into practice all of the time. You have to tell the truth all of the time. You must declare your goal, state your intentions, ask for what you want, and remain true to yourself, all of the time. The minute you forget any one or all of those principles, the enemy will step in. When that happens, you have to work harder. The time had come for me to heal at a deeper level and get the lesson from another perspective. I may have simply scratched the surface. Or perhaps I had missed one tiny little detail. I did know enough to realize that what was showing up in my life was the answer. I now had to remember the question. I prayed.
Dear God:
Please bring me this lesson gently and lovingly. Please let me see and understand what is really going on, and give me the courage to do whatever is necessary. Remind me of what I have forgotten. Inform me of your will for my own spiritual progress and the good of all others involved. I am ready and willing to know the truth.
Don’t ask if you really don’t want to know. The minute I closed my eyes, I saw her. She was six. No, she was nine. No. She was twenty-one, bent over in pain, covering her swollen black-and-blue eyes. She was terrified. She was kicking and screaming. She was trying to get away. From whom? What was she running from now? No. She was fighting back. She was angry. I was having trouble breathing. No. She was having trouble breathing. She was dead. No. She was alive, fighting for her life. I was the object of her attack. I squeezed my eyes shut. My teeth were clenched. My fists were clenched. I was waiting for the blow. Before it came, I could feel the pain, the fear, and the terror. I could feel the scream rise up in my body. The memory of another bathtub at another time. Other blows, brutal blows, at other times. The reasons for the blows still a mystery. A history of not wanting to live. Rhonda’s history.
Iyanla’s heart was pounding, her mind racing. The crap was rushing to the surface. Oh God! This is too hard! Do it now! Do it right now! With that thought in mind, I buried my face in the warm wet washcloth and cried for Rhonda. I hoped it would be for the very last time. But I had to remember.
CHAPTER TWO
What’s the Lesson When You Are an Unwanted, Neglected, and Abused Child?