Changing perspectives, one lunch box at a time With his gift certificate in his hand and a reluctant, nervous smile on his face, he entered my office as if on auto pilot. I can see in his face that he was expecting a gypsy woman with bracelets on her wrists, hoops in her ears, an asymmetrical flowing skirt and shimmering lip gloss…well, guess what…he got what he expected. So, I wasn’t a bit surprised when he stopped at my desk, looked around and asked, “Where’s the dreamcatcher?” As he continued with his idle, wanting to degrade my profession dialog, he finally said, “You aren’t burning incense.” I really had had enough of this nonsense nervous chatter and so I replied, “You’re really are exactly what I expected, you’re wearing a suit and tie, like you work at old school Exxon/Mobile.” He said, “Wow, (insert sarcastic laughter) you MUST be psychic, I work for Texaco as an engineer.” I can be quick on my toes when need be. “Nope, that wasn’t psychic at all…you all look the same.” He was trying to intimidate me… I wasn’t buying into it. 15 minutes later, he was in tears, sobbing with snot coming out of his nose. So much for intimidation. My heart went out to him. He was so afraid of me feeling into his pain. And then voicing it aloud. I knew that, which is why his earlier banter with me caused no harm. I hear it all the time from my guys. They don’t want me to see them cry or get emotional. That’s not entirely true, they do want it, just not with a witness present. So, I did what I do best, I dove right in, hard core. I only had 40 minutes. Mom came through with so much love, recalling his nickname as a boy that came straight out of my mouth without hesitation. All was going well, he was a happy camper, or as mom said, he was a happy Eagle Scout, until I mentioned that I kept seeing an old school thermos, the kind that in the 70’s was a pale avocado green color, tall with a silver cup on the end and usually held piping black coffee inside. Pause… Silence… No response… I kept going… Along side of it was a metal lunch box. But not just any metal lunchbox, this one had a dent on the top right side. I looked him in the eye and said, “You would know the cause of this dent, simply because you’re the young boy who put it there.” He lost it. Without receiving a reply I continued with earnest abandon. I was prompted by his dad to look inside of this lunch box. Unlatching the lock, I peeked inside. On a piece of paper taped to the inside were words written in a little boy’s perfect penmanship, “I’m sorry Daddy”. No words, just an audible sob. Being the conduit to the spirit world that I am, I could feel his father stepping closer to me. I asked my client to look me in the eyes as I said these words to him… “Son, I wasn’t there for you. I was always working, busy, making ends meet, never really present with you, but I need you to know, that what I did, I thought that I was doing for you and it wasn’t until you put that big dent in my lunchbox did I realize how much I loved you and missed being with you. Every day when I sat down to eat the sandwich your momma made for me, I thought of you… and do you know why? Because I couldn’t help but think of you as I saw this big dent at the top of my brand new lunchbox. Thank you for that. I love you and I’m so proud of you. You have become more than I would have ever dreamed possible. Thank you for naming your son after me. I feel honored.” No words, sobs and tears as he looked into my face, blurred vision we both had, as I looked at his. A shared moment of awe as we made this sacred connection together, the three of us. If you ever wonder why I do this work… ^ this ^ is why. I have seen him twice more, each time witnessing before my eyes a more relaxed, kinder, softer human being, evolving gradually into an enlightened soul, with thoughtful words and a gentle heart. Healing, my friends. It does a body good. Especially when it’s at a soul level. Xx Nicole P.S. I hope that you enjoyed this musing knowing that you too can heal from tragedy by connecting in with your loved ones in spirit… and you don’t need me to do it for you. You can connect in as well. Try it. Sit in Meditation with that intention. Share your story with me. I would be honored to read it.