The Unmothered Child

In 20 years of practice, I have had the experience of seeing a great many patterns in the biofields of my clients (I see the biofield- human energy field or aura- as mind, both conscious and unconscious). I actually hear rather than see these patterns, using a tuning fork like a needle on an album to pass slowly through this field from about six feet away from the body, and I have formed a hypothesis that says rather than being stored in the brain, our memories are actually stored, in a kind of binary code, in standing waves in the diffuse magnetic field that surrounds our bodies.

One of the patterns that I have been struck by recently is that of the “unmothered child”. In fact, I have come to see that a great many of the people who come to see me, who are looking for help and relief from their suffering on any level of their being, have this pattern in common.

Whether mom was emotionally unhinged, or emotionally distant, or a child herself, the common denominator is that mom was not available to do the job of mother – to love and nourish and care for and provide appropriate boundaries and support. Very often, the client ended up assuming the role of mother, having to mother herself, and in many cases, mother her mother.

Recently I was working with a client who was very much an unmothered child. She had suffered with depression, anxiety, sugar addiction, pain, and a variety of other challenges, and had spent a great deal of time and energy in the effort of healing herself. Despite her best efforts, she always seemed to slip back into a place of apathy and struggle.

As I listened in to her biofield, in the area of the field that holds the information related to one’s relationship with mother, I found myself saying to her, “Marinda (not her real name), the hole you are trying to fill, the needs you are trying to get met – they are never going to get met. It didn’t happen, it is not going to happen”. As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I was horrified at my audacity to say such a thing.

(Contextually, Marinda is a student of mine, and has done a number of sessions, so we have some history together. I don’t think I could have come right out and said such a blunt statement without us knowing each other as we do.)

Marinda went quite quiet after that, and after a pause, I asked her how it felt to hear me say that. “Hugely relieving, actually” she said.

Rather than struggling and straining to heal a wound that would never heal, to fill a need that would never be filled, Marinda surrendered to it. She accepted it, and in that acceptance came a peace that had previously eluded her.

This morning I was reading this article about Chiron, the wounded healer:

Chiron symbolizes our experience of pain, alienation and woundedness, and is therefore connected to suffering in one form or another. In mythology, the centaur Chiron sustained a wound that never healed and he was said to have suffered unceasingly from it. And yet, it was this suffering that drove him to search for relief, and that search brought him the knowledge, wisdom and experience that expanded his knowledge about healing. This enabled him to counsel, teach and heal others, earning himself the label of the Wounded Healer.

Chiron is therefore associated with phrases like “the Wounded Healer” and “the wound that never heals.” There are some tragedies, crises and abuses from which our human nature cannot completely recover. That doesn’t mean we have to let those wounds define us or consume us, but there is a certain quality to our experience of these things that cannot simply be wiped away. We carry the memory of that pain to some extent, and for some people that pain is never very far away from their here-and-now consciousness. For some of us, Chiron represents a more profound and persistent wound than for others.

Biofield Tuning offers a unique tool to help us to heal, to soothe and settle our chaotic places. But it cannot erase our stories, it cannot fill a need that was never met. Nothing can do that. And maybe nothing should – because when we stand back and look at our lives, we see how our difficulties have shaped us, often into the very good people that we have become. Marinda is a gifted healer, who, like Chiron is able to counsel, teach and heal others – a gift she (most likely) would not have without her wound.

There are certain levels of suffering we can heal – anxiety can settle, pain can dissipate, digestion and mood and outlook can improve- but there are others that we must accept, and in that acceptance we can, potentially, find the relief we are looking for.