The truth is. I would probably have done it anyway. In fact, I know I would have. I’d do it again, only this time, I’d assert my self-worth upfront. She called on a Saturday night, while I was watching The Hobbit with my family. When I picked up the phone, she launched into a hurried, some-what desperate speech about why she really needed energy healing, not later, but now. So I relented.

You might say I’m a sucker, and perhaps I am. The truth is, I love helping others. I love energy work. In an instant I am transported with another person into that pure space of Divine Love. There is nothing quite like it. Don’t get me wrong, it’s not always easy. I feel the other person’s energy in my own body until it is cleared, and that means a bit of discomfort and unease at times. But, it’s always worth it.

It was worth it that Saturday, even though, looking back, I had that inkling of a feeling when I first picked up the phone that she’d never pay. It grew to a near warning by the time I’d hung up over an hour later, but I was still riding the waves of light. I think she was too. I think, perhaps for that hour or so, she had an intention of possibly paying for the services I’d rendered, but then decided not to.

The next morning, after the light had waned inside of me, I began to feel my ego again and its persistent voice of fear. You were had. It told me. You did that for nothing. Have you learned your lesson?

Now, days later, I am still grappling with the ego. It was, I know, a lesson in assertiveness. A lesson in self-worth. A lesson I still needed to learn. Whether she knows it or not, the woman who called me on a Saturday night, gave me a gift. She showed me what fears still lurk inside of me, and what I still need to over-come. She taught me that sometimes the trust needs to come from within, and not without.

Will I do it again? Yes, and no. I will continue to help those in need of healing, as I have before, even if they cannot pay for my services. I will not, I hope though, be “had” again. It leaves an unpleasant aftertaste in the heart, and, frankly, I’m worth more than that.