by Jeane Watier
Rachael claimed that anger was a way to take back her power, and Jenna could feel the power in what she’d just done. It felt good to be angry with Geoff and blame him for her problems. She latched on to the feeling, knowing she’d chosen it on purpose.
She’d driven for almost an hour, when she began to feel hungry. As she passed a sign for a motel, she made the decision to get a room. She longed for somewhere she could be alone, and she didn’t want to keep driving aimlessly. After a bite to eat in the coffee shop, she checked in.
Inside the room, she set her purse on the bed and took off her jacket. She noticed a pad of paper on the desk with the motel logo on top. With a determination she’d never experienced before, she sat down, picked up a pen, and began to write: ‘I’m so angry at Geoff because…’ Jenna let all her feelings flow onto the paper in large, sprawling handwriting, using words that had never even escaped her lips before. She cried as she wrote.
After several minutes, she went over to the bed and kicked the side of the mattress as hard as she could. She laughed as she remembered what Rachael had said about spraining her toe. Then she began pealing off her clothes on the way to the small adjoining bathroom. Stepping into the shower, Jenna let the hot water cascade over her body, symbolically washing away a lifetime of pain. She reached for the angry thoughts again. They were comforting, somehow. It was clear to her now what Rachael meant about anger being a step toward feeling better.
She sat down to write again, and it wasn’t long before she’d used up the entire writing pad. There was a convenience store across the parking lot, so she went and picked up several notebooks and spent the afternoon writing in them, starting a page for everyone she felt any anger toward. She’d never let herself get mad at her parents before, but now she realized that she was angry with them both for abandoning her. She told her mother how scared and alone she’d felt growing up without her. She told her father what a pathetic bastard he was for not caring for his only daughter. To her grandparents, she wrote several pages condemning their cold, unloving ways. They were all gone, but it felt good to let them know how they’d affected her life.
Feeling the benefit of her actions, she continued, generously heaping the blame on anyone else she could think of—her boss, the minister at church, even Rachael. Although, when she got to her, Jenna started to soften. She was beginning to realize the immense gift that Rachael had given her.
Something was beginning to change—Jenna could feel it. She was taking control of her life for the first time. It left her feeling elated and exhausted at the same time. She lay down on the bed and closed her eyes.
~
Geoff stared at the bedroom door for the longest time, unable to believe what Jenna had done. He didn’t blame her; he deserved that and more, but it was so unlike her. He’d never seen that look in her eyes before; she was really angry. Now he was scared. He’d gone too far this time. Jenna’s always been so good natured, so supportive and understanding—at least I assumed she was. She never talks about her feelings. Maybe I’ve been taking her for granted. Maybe this has been building up for a while. God! What if this was the last straw? Geoff rested his forehead in his hands, feeling sick over the possibility of losing Jenna.
He knew he’d been neglecting his family, but he’d truly believed it would all be okay when his once-in-a-lifetime deal came to fruition. He realized now there was much more to it than just the money he’d lost. He’d undoubtedly pushed Jenna past her limit with all the missed dinners, not to mention the late nights and meetings on weekends. She’d borne it all without saying a word, and now she was gone.
Geoff went downstairs and started making breakfast for the kids. When they asked, he made up an excuse for Jenna not being there. As he said the words, he wondered how many times Jenna had done the same for him.
~
Jenna opened her eyes and looked around, feeling disoriented. For a second, she couldn’t remember where she was or how she’d gotten there. Swirling in her mind were the remnants of a captivating dream. She tried to piece it together.
She’d been climbing a steep, rocky path up a mountainside. Something urgent was calling her forward, but she’d stopped for a breather on a majestic plateau with wildflowers all around her and sheep grazing in the distance. She had taken off her shoes and walked on the lush, soft grass. She’d picked some flowers and listened to birds singing. She remembered lying down on the grass, wanting to stay there, but a voice was calling her—a familiar voice, gently reminding her of the mission she was on. It was then she realized that the voice calling her was her own, so she got up and continued walking.
Jenna didn’t know what the dream meant, but it represented something powerful, something significant. The images were beginning to fade, but she could feel the emotion they had evoked. As the dream diminished, the events of the morning slowly became clear again in her memory. Panic gripped her momentarily as she realized what she’d done.
Looking down at the pages strewn across the bed beside her, she read the lines she’d written about Geoff, and again the anger surfaced. It felt less intense this time, but Jenna still wasn’t ready to face him. The clock beside the bed told her that it was just after four. Geoff would be out with the kids, so Jenna decided to call home and leave a message. She wasn’t ready to go back yet, but she wanted to let them know she was all right.
Having done that, she sat back and continued to read over the pages that she had written. When she finished she took them into the bathroom and with a book of matches she’d found, lit the pages one by one and flushed the ashes down the toilet. When the last one was gone, she felt an immense calm fill her being. Closing her eyes, Jenna tried to imagine the beam of light flooding down on her. This time she could see it. She could feel it. Hope surged within her, and she began to cry—great, sobbing tears of release and relief. The intense anger was gone and so was the powerlessness she’d felt all her life.
~
Rachael floated through the remainder of the day, replaying the conversation she’d had with Brian in the park that morning. She couldn’t believe how things were unfolding, yet it all seemed so natural and so perfect. At one point, she picked up the phone to call Gail. She was dying to tell her what had happened, but before she could complete the number, she set the phone back down. Suddenly, the thought of telling Gail everything and the two of them speculating over what might come of it, took away from the magic that she’d been feeling. There would be plenty of time to tell Gail.
Instead, she reached for her beloved journal and started to write. She wanted to capture how she was feeling in the moment. Before she was finished, the phone rang, and Rachael wondered if it was Gail calling—if her own powerful thoughts had sent a message to her best friend. Rachael laughed, liking the idea of it. The voice she heard on the other end, however, was not Gail’s. “Rachael?”
“Yes.”
“It’s Jenna. I hope I’m not bothering you.” She paused. “Something happened to me today, and I...I wanted to share it with someone.”
“Jenna,” Rachael picked up on the different tone in Jenna’s voice, “is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it really is.” Jenna told her what had happened at home and how she’d left so abruptly. She told her about the letters she’d written and burned.
“Oh, Jenna!” Rachael exclaimed. “You did it! You deliberately moved up the emotional scale. I can just imagine the power you must be feeling right now.”
“I am,” Jenna laughed. “I am feeling powerful. I was finally able to get mad at Geoff, and I used the anger—just like you said, to move up the emotional scale. It really does work.”
“I’m so proud of you.” Rachael felt the tears running down her cheeks. She’d been worried about Jenna. She wanted so much to help her, and when Jenna hadn’t wanted to talk to her all week, Rachael felt like she may have pushed her too far.
“Where are you now?” Rachael inquired. “Do you want to come over?”
“I’d like that,�
�� Jenna admitted. “Are you sure? You don’t have other plans?”
“Please come.”
~
Jenna gladly checked out of the motel. Although she appreciated the temporary refuge, she was relieved when Rachael offered her a place to stay as long as she needed. As she drove back to the city, she thought about Geoff again. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, whether he was mad at her for leaving so suddenly and not talking things out. She realized too that she hadn’t said anything to the kids before she left. She began to feel guilty. All of a sudden, the feeling of power was gone. She knew instinctively that she was moving the wrong way on the emotional scale. “Help me,” she prayed. “I want to feel my power again.”
She wasn’t sure who she was praying to; her concept of God was pretty mixed up at the moment. She liked Rachael’s description of her Inner Being; it seemed so loving and comforting. Jenna tried to imagine a Being. She tried to imagine a face. But all that came to mind were those of people she knew, and that didn’t offer her any consolation.
Then she thought of how she comforted her children when they were sad or sick, and she longed to feel that herself. Jenna thought of her own mother, but no image came to mind. Packed away in a box at home, was a lone picture of her that Jenna hadn’t looked at it in years.
The car radio was playing softly, and Jenna caught the words to a familiar song. “Just look over your shoulder; I’ll be there always.”7 A tingling sensation radiated from within as the words lodged in her mind and echoed again. I’ll be there always.
Feeling lightheaded, she pulled her car over to the side of the highway and stopped. She leaned back and closed her eyes. In that moment, Jenna was a little girl again. Her mother was holding her in her arms, stroking Jenna’s hair and humming softly. Jenna could feel the comforting touch. But as magnificent as the sensations washing over her felt, it was the realization that her mother was present with her that brought her to tears. “You never really went away, did you?” Jenna cried. “You’ve always been there for me.”
Chapter 12
Rachael opened her front door to find Jenna standing there looking like an angel. Behind her, the sun was starting to go down, and its glow surrounded her. Her eyes were slightly red from crying, but she was smiling, and Rachael didn’t think she’d ever looked more beautiful.
“I’m so glad you came.” Rachael hugged her tightly. When she let her go, they both had tears in their eyes.
“Thanks for inviting me. I needed time alone to sort this out, but now it would be good to talk about it.” Jenna walked inside and set her things down.
“You can freshen up if you like. I’m going to make us some dinner. Are you hungry?”
“Yes, thanks.”
After a few minutes, Jenna came into the kitchen, looking refreshed. “Can I help with anything?”
“I don’t cook much,” Rachael admitted, “but I thought I’d be brave and try something simple. I found a recipe on the internet for Easy Chicken Cacciatore. I ran out and picked up everything I’d need, but now that I’m reading the instructions, it doesn’t look as easy as they say.”
“You didn’t have to go to so much trouble.”
“The trouble is...I’m a terrible cook,” Rachael laughed. “Maybe we can conquer this together.”
They spent the next half hour in the kitchen laughing and talking. Jenna expertly prepared the chicken and put it in the pan to brown. She sliced mushrooms, chopped onions and minced garlic. As Rachael watched, she concluded that there was no way she could have done it herself. She attempted dicing tomatoes, as Jenna mixed some dry white wine with tomato paste. Jenna sprinkled in sugar, salt, and spices to taste and put it all together in the saucepan to simmer. Then she got the pasta ready to boil. As their dinner cooked, Rachael poured them each a glass of wine.
“Cheers.” Jenna raised her glass. “Here’s to friendship.”
“Especially friends who know how to cook.”
As they sat down to eat, Jenna told Rachael about the letter she’d written to her mother and the experience she had driving over. “It’s like she’s with me now. I can feel her. I think she was always there, but I just wasn’t aware of it.”
“I’m sure she’s always been there.”
The conversation caused Rachael to think of something that Brian had shared earlier. He’d been able to go home after the dream about his brother. She turned to Jenna and asked, “What do you feel when you think of home? Have you ever felt a true sense of home?”
Jenna shook her head in dismay, her eyes suddenly brimming with tears. “Wow,” she replied, taking a deep breath. “Sometimes I think you can see inside my mind. It’s a little unnerving.” She wiped away a tear with her napkin.
Rachael was just about to apologize when Jenna continued, “I’ve never had a true sense of home, but I don’t think I really knew it until I just heard you say those words.”
“When you felt your mother comforting you, did that feel like home?”
“Yes! Yes, it did,” Jenna cried. “That’s what I’ve been missing all my life; I’ve just wanted a mother’s love and comfort. Without it, I couldn’t feel at home.”
“You can’t change the past, but from now on you can have that feeling of home anytime you want. No one can take it away from you,” Rachael assured her. “It’s inside you now, and once you feel at home inside, you can feel at home anywhere.”
“This feels like the missing piece,” Jenna declared. “Is it possible that this has been the root of my problem? Now that I feel at home with myself, I can start to feel better?”
“You’re well on your way to feeling better,” Rachael smiled, thanking her Inner Being for the wisdom she’d received. “You’re on the path, and you’re heading in the right direction. The journey to joy doesn’t have to be a long one, once you know the secret.” As she said the word secret, Rachael was reminded of the movie Brian had mentioned. Her mind was instantly filled with thoughts of what had taken place in the past two days.
Jenna gave her a questioning look. “You seemed far away for a moment. Are you all right?”
“Oh, Jenna,” Rachael apologized. “I’m sorry. It’s just that something exciting happened this weekend, and I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“What is it? I’d love to hear about it.”
“I wasn’t sure whether I should share it with you,” Rachael admitted. “I remember what it’s like to feel depressed and listen to someone else talk about how great their life is.”
“Actually, I’m feeling better than I was,” Jenna acknowledged. “After what happened today, I don’t feel depressed anymore. Deliberately choosing anger brought relief—just like you said. And I have to admit, I don’t even feel as angry as I did this morning. I’m still mad at Geoff, but it doesn’t feel so intense. But enough about me,” she smiled warmly. “Tell me what happened.”
Rachael told her about talking with Brian at the bar the previous day. She told her about running into him at the park that morning. “It’s been the one area of my life that isn’t all I want it to be. I want to be in a relationship, but for so long I was focusing on the lack. Since I came to understand this teaching, I’ve been focusing on what I want instead. I visualized what he’d be like. I pictured us together, having fun...and so far,” Rachael beamed. “Brian seems to be everything I’ve imagined. It’s strange. I’ve only known him for a day. I feel like a silly schoolgirl with a crush, yet something tells me it could be so much more than that.”
“Rachael, that’s great! I’m happy for you. And what you just described—it feels powerful. I can see how you’re creating your own reality, but I’m still having a hard time believing it.”
“I’ve been proving it over and over in my life. This house is another example.”
“Yes, I remember Gail mentioned something about that. So how did it happen?”
“Well, it’s a long story. Do you want another glass of wine?”
“Sure.”
Rachael was thoroughly enjoying herself. Jenna had come so far, and now she truly felt like a friend. It felt good to share and be serious, but having fun together was important, too. She poured them each another glass of wine, then sat back on the sofa and tucked her feet under her as she told the story.
“My father continued to live here after we moved away,” she began. “He visited me a few times, and Mom and I came out here a couple times a year to see my brother and sister. But the visits with Dad were strained and uncomfortable, so after a few years we just stopped. For several years I didn’t see him at all. My sister and brother didn’t even see him, and they lived in the same city. We even stopped talking about him.
“When I moved back here three years ago, I thought about contacting him, but it wasn’t until I started feeling better and applying the things I know now, that I got the courage to call him. He was so glad that I’d called, and we started getting together regularly. I was able to share what I was learning, and he was open to it. We had some really good discussions. He wanted to make up for the past, I think, so he offered to help me buy a house. He took out the mortgage with the bank, and I made the payments to him. About seven months later, he was killed in a car accident.”
“Rachael, that’s awful! You had so little time with him. It seems so unfair.”
“I try not to look at it that way. The time we had together was precious. But I think he knew, somehow, that he wouldn’t be around much longer. It’s strange how people can sense that. I was with him the day before he died. We had such a good time. Before I left, he gave me a big hug and told me how sorry he was for not being there for me. He told me how much he loved me and said he’d always be there for me in the future.
“And he has been with me,” Rachael continued, getting choked up as she felt the love for her father expand even more. “I’ve felt him close to me. Something will happen that reminds me of him. Or someone will say something he would have said, and I smile because I know that’s his way of communicating with me now.”
