I wake up to a quiet Saturday morning, and when you have a full house of young children, that is a blessing in itself.
“It is the supreme art of the leader to awaken the joy of creative expression and knowledge” -Albert Einstein
An old but connected friend continues to show me the mirror of joy, even though it’s cracked. You see, this man IS Joy, as his last name -Gioia, literally translates in Italian to ‘The Bringer of Joy’. I remember as a teen and 20 somethings how he would come around with that smile: always so positive and uplifting. It was unmistakable. It was that joy that I remember that led me to call him a representative agent in the sweet process of securing a mortgage for a Pennsylvania abode I am looking to complete next week.
Never doubting his qualifications, I reached out after we had been distant from each other for longer than I would like to admit. The man has become very ‘successful’ in his career, made a ton of money, but even from our first re-connection, seemed different. More Alpha, more Bravado, more – Piss N Vinegar, than I could recall. I recognize these attributes more than most because of the life I’ve lived. The search and journey to hunt and maintain the hunt, in the form of dollars, is arduous and stressful. It sometimes forces us to release who we are to become who we think we need to be. Love and Compassion yield to Aggressiveness and Disdain- all for the Dolla Dolla Bills Y'all. And there are plenty of those to chase and keep us busy.
In my recent dealings with Ryan, I felt his pain, and it is my belief that because I’ve been bitten by that sinister bug in the past, that I can still vividly recall its energy signature. I can see the bullseye that the tick of greed leaves behind. Given our arrangement, he’s seen my W2s, heard some of my stories and knows a bit about what I’ve been up to. I am validated, in part because of my scars and battle wounds. I am meeting him where he is at, and he knows that I know how lonely he feels. I know he’s hooked on the junk of cents, rather than the potion of sense. I know he doesn’t see an end to the rat race, only the cheese hidden around questionable turns. Nothing is enough, and his existence is grounded in a futility he never even knew he chose. Now that he is looking around, what can he do? Trapped in a cage he designed meticulously over a 20+year career. I know this because I was there.
We spend time talking, and inevitably I will blabber on about my story of release; of unlocking my cage. How I was guided towards a future very different from the immediate past that had surrounded me. But not my true past. Not my true self. That self, that came way before the chase for cheese. Well prior to the ugly version of a rat that I splintered into, I was a happy soul, who only cared about spreading joy through THE CURIOSITY OF POSSIBILITY. I am intrigued by this thing called life and it's always given me energy to move forward.
When I decided I was done, I stampeded into the abyss. I was broken in many places physically and In need of surgery. I was concussed to the point I could not see straight, and I was emotionally stabbed in places I never knew existed. These are not metaphors. I woke up and found out that healing is possible. Healing is life, and it is an active choice we get to make. It’s a choice, the same as hurting. I am forever grateful for the PAIN and HURT because without them- what would I be here to heal?
My journey of discovery is one I set for myself. The bullies, the backstabbing, the climbing of the perilous and splintered ladder of success were all choices that I made. Painful choices, mostly made without the deep thought and consideration they deserved. But choices, nonetheless. I own them, and I love them.
As I hear the vitriol in my friend’s voice, I feel those pains return. Only now, from where my perspective currently sits, I feel sadness. He does not know over the phone that my eyes well, like that water I will access in PA. It’s a community well system, which just seems so perfectly poetic at this moment. He does not know that it hurts ME to see HIM floating in this space. For I know where this path leads. The good news is, with awareness and choice, it can lead to miracles.
Transmuting energy, as I’ve tried to jibber to Ryan, is a developed skill of intention that requires an abundance of will and practice. I am a novice in this space, yet the amount of traumatic moon rocks that surround me are so plentiful that they allow me to bang into some positions of learning, albeit seemingly accidentally. I am no teacher. I am a friend, and friends share what they can.
My Joyous friend seems on the precipice of remembrance. He seems ready to forget what does not serve. Choosing between those is difficult, but very profitable in a way ‘success’ can never be. I feel gravitated to this journey or pain and healing for reasons I don’t yet get. I feel strongly that sharing my own vulnerability allows both myself and others the opportunity to heal together. I am grateful for it all, and as I continue to unlock my own cage of understanding, I hope it helps loosen the locks that others have also created.
Yesterday was Ryan’s birthday and I had not a clue. I know that his joyous mirror still reflects that feeling back to me, and I have been thinking about how I may remember joy within myself, so that I may share it with others. The more I think I've been helping him, the more I have somehow turned to helping myself. Karmic circles of invisibility. Some mirrors aren’t brown, they are just a little dusty, and that can be easy enough to clean. Thank God for that.
Come back like Gioia, wearing the 4-5.
Ryan can be reached at Ryan Gioia Senior Loan Officer A-M-S Mortgage Services 201-566-7054 direct # or ryan@amsmtg.com
With Gratitude and Awareness,
S.A.Thomas
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