Sweating and Rain Dancing

I asked an Energy Worker friend how to go about sending energy/love to an individual I knew that needed it.

I trust this gentleman so his answer, to simply intend to send my love, I accepted. But being the Capricorn I am, I still had the niggling feeling this was too easy. Where was the candle lighting, the chanting, the sweating and Indian rain dancing? 

Intent. Too. Damn. Easy. 

But what if this is really all there is to life? Does this mean we simply intend that our house get clean, our baby's diapers get changed, the lawn gets mowed and Fido's food bowl gets filled? If you think about it the answer is yes. Without the intent to accomplish these chores they would not get done. We didn't say we intended another to complete these tasks did we? 

I am an advocate of work, accomplishment and persisting. To the point that I have indulged in a lot of self hate (and self pity) about having been a stay at home Mom. In my mind, though I enjoyed being home and due to a lot of kid doctoring almost had to be home, that was not enough. I was not enough. I know where a lot of this comes from. My unhappy Father, who after finding out I did not intend to return to work after the kids were in school, sneered something about me being 'retired' I look back on those years and they sure felt busy. I cooked six from scratch dinners every week. Attended to the before mentioned doctoring, occasionally helped at school, built a home and read books. Lots of books. I returned to school and got a 4.0 in the program I studied. I mediated a choking influx of medical bills and fought to get my insurance company to pay for a wheel chair for my son when he needed it. I attended school meetings to make sure he received proper services to continue his studies. I sucked back a lot of emotions and pushed him out into the world so he could see it could and would be done. His Mother insisted. And much, much more. But because I didn't hold an MBA and I did not receive a paycheck, in his mind none of those other accomplishments counted. 

My Father is dead now. He can't see the results of my labor. But I can. One is in another state building a life. One is finishing an undergraduate degree after studying abroad for a year. As for myself, I am creating art. 

In my life there has been much candle lighting, chanting, sweating and Indian rain dancing just because of who I am. But now that my friend has told me the way to send love is to simply intend it-I will, to myself, because I damn well deserve it.