It's what I ask every client at the beginning of a session. When I asked the question of my final client on Sunday afternoon, he stared back. Blankly.
"That's the problem," he said as he lay down. "I don't know what I seek. About anything. I don't know what I want to do career-wise and it's been so long since I've had a relationship that, when someone asked me the other day the last time I was in love, I had to pause and count the years. I couldn't remember."
As Tom Kenyon's "Manna" came on, I began working with my client to release all that was no longer serving his highest purpose. All that was keeping him from knowing. His Truth. His Soul. Looking down, I saw that from his third chakra down he was as thick and solid as tree stump. There was no flow, no movement, no anything. It was as if his lower chakras were the proverbial bump on a log! They had checked out, shut down, walled up. No wonder he didn't know, couldn't remember.
And then I heard it. The world's loudest heartbeat. Louder than the music coming through the speakers attached to my laptop. So loud that I could hear it from every corner of the room. North. East. South. West. Above. Below. It wasn't just my client's heart beating. It was the universal heart beat. Stretching back to primordial times and out past me into infinity.
It was calling me. Closer and closer.
I put my ear down to my client's chest.
"Come inside," the heartbeat said.
Entering my client's heart chakra, I saw that it was overgrown with dead brush. There was no light. It was like being on the floor of the Amazon rainforest. Nothing penetrated it.
"He's trapped here," the heartbeat said. "Caged."
I made my way through the darkness. Seeking, sensing, until, in the distance, I saw a cage with a single beacon of light shining down. My client was inside it.
"That's not him," the heartbeat whispered. "He's hiding. Look where you wouldn't look."
Surveying the amount of dead brush covering everything, I thought to myself, "Well, this could take awhile. And I have dinner plans in an hour!"
Then I looked where I wouldn't look. And I saw the guard standing sentry to the right of the cage, just behind a thick swath of dead brush. I looked into his eyes and saw the glow of my client's eyes. The cage disappeared. So did the brush. All of it.
I returned to the room where my client lay, took his hands and placed them on his chest.
"Feel your heart beat," I said. "Feel it until your fingers vibrate in synch with each beat. Nod your head when you feel that."
After a minute or two, my client nodded his head.
"Now," I continued, "moving through your fingers, I want you to bring your entire body, your entire being, inside your heart. Let your right toes be the last part you bring in and wiggle them as they move inside."
He wiggled his toes.
"OK," I finished, "now that you are in your heart, I want you to look up. See the light streaming down. Feel it. Smell it. Hear it. Drink it in. That light is you."
He did. For a long time (though I still made my dinner!). And, as he did, the stump that was his lower chakras disappeared. The natural flow returned. A beautiful smile came across his face. My client left that night still not clear on what he sought.
But at least he had found the guide who would get him there. His heart.