by Sandra Wilson, Master of Arts (MA), Brisbane/ Australia
I used to have difficulty in saying No, which meant that I pushed myself too hard to get something done, or I would struggle to carry out a promise even though it no longer felt right.
Years ago, I was given a good demonstration of the consequences of not saying No. I had to put out a brochure for a course I was teaching in the next term and I had a small window of time to do it in. Usually, it came together easily but this time I couldn’t seem to get it together.
Every part of my body seemed unwilling to do it and everything seemed to conspire against it. But the more resistance I felt, the harder I pushed.
I stubbornly went ahead even though there was a resounding ‘no’ inside me. My mind was like a slave driver whipping me up into a panic: “If you don’t do it now you’ll miss out on student intake for the beginning of the term… then how are you going to support the kids, pay the rent etc.?”… My body did not want to do it but my mind drove me to act out of fear. I could not see the situation clearly nor pause to really consider whether it might be possible to delay putting out the brochure until after I had returned from my trip.
After a lot of effort I finally finished it and, on the way to the printer, I had a small car accident and only just made the deadline. Consequently when I went away I had to spend the first week of my holiday recuperating from my stress and exhaustion. The day I was due to come home there was major flooding and all planes were grounded and the power was out. Mobile phones had not been invented then so I had no way to organise someone else to be at the venue to enrol the new intake of students. I felt power-less. I then realised that I knew all along – my body had been informing me that it was not the right timing to put out the brochure, but I overrode the message and willfully made happen what I thought I wanted done. Since that day I have started listening to my true feelings.
I am realising that my body does let me know whether I am making the right choice or not. If I feel an expansive feeling in my body that means I am making a good choice. If there is tension, I may be making a bad choice or I am resisting making the right choice. In either case my body warns me to look closer at the situation.
But it was only years later, by attending Universal Medicine courses and hearing what Serge Benhayon says about energy, that I started to fully understand how much it hurts myself and others when I try to make things happen. It’s a selfish manipulation which takes nothing else into account other than what I want. This can warp events and cause problems which can affect others because it is not in harmony with the whole. I realise now that, the car accident I had was also indicative of how I was behaving at the time. Even if the course had gone ahead, it would have got off to a bad start because the brochure was tainted with the fear of not achieving my goal and this would have formed part of the subconscious message conveyed by the brochure, which was completely opposite to the message I was trying to convey in the course. By forcing something to happen I was manipulating the outcome to get my own way and I was doing this because I was afraid of what might happen if I didn’t achieve my goal. By contrast, when I am in harmony with my natural rhythm there is a whole-hearted delight which gets things done effortlessly and offers more than just practical help. It graces everyone.
A situation with my daughter helped me understand this further: I had offered to give her some money to help her out of financial difficulties, but when the time came to do so I no longer felt right about giving it to her. A tension arose in my chest and throat whenever I thought of giving it to her and I realised I needed to speak to her about it.
I finally got the courage to tell her that I did not feel right about giving her the money. I was surprised at her reaction. She actually welcomed it as an opportunity to take more responsibility for her life. She stopped pretending she could cope and allowed herself to feel what she was really feeling. It was lovely to be with her in her honesty and vulnerability. This laid the foundation for us to look together at her situation and put a plan in place where she would not be so drained energetically and financially. We talked about how I had struggled as a single mum to provide for her and her brother and how I was constantly telling them: “We can’t afford that”… so I had instilled in them a sense of lack. I was trying to make up for this by giving money to help her out of financial difficulties and relieve my guilt. She saw that she tended to live beyond her means and that this was a tremendous drain on her. She realised that she also spent her energy unwisely by overdoing it and then getting burnt out. I realised that, had I given her the money, it would have been from my wish to fill her lack, and she would have not had the opportunity to change her situation. It would have, in fact, sanctioned the old bad habits and I would have felt drained because I was not honest with her.
By my saying no we opened up a hidden area which, once discovered and brought out in the open, left us both feeling good. It deepened our connection and allowed a new way of being for both of us – just the opposite of what I had feared would happen.