A Whole Family Experience: Transcending Illness through New Communication
A Whole Family Experience: Transcending Illness through New CommunicationBy Ms. Naomi Ukai, Housewife, Aichi, Japan
I just finished writing my post after attending the “I” lecture on the new Miross curriculum.
I was thrilled with it! I was also very excited about the message I received from Mr. Rossco in the last “M” lecture: “Illness” is okay as long as you keep smiling.
Find out what made you inclined to be ill. Just find the root cause of the illness and understand it from the viewpoint of Miross! Once you know the cause, it’s over. I can only feel a sense of completeness and true gratitude for this experience during the past month.
The “deep darkness” that the conflict of inner consciousness projects onto the drama of life, and the “holy light” that coexists with it—these two polarities are to be dissolved and transcended. We can create a new communication that transcends illness and health. This makes me believe that “new health” is my life’s theme. The Miross system can balance the body and the mind! Once you find the root of the problem, it ends! I’m writing this post because I had a profound experience this time. I felt there was a huge difference between taking the new curriculum into the year 2023 or not taking it and procrastinating. What would have happened if I had postponed resolving this deep darkness? I get chills just thinking about it. Now I’m so excited to attend the next lecture, “R”! I’m glad I could give myself this experience of a new period of human development!
Thank you so much, Ms. Midori!
Now let me start here, the main part.
In May 2022, I attended the Miross Practical Course led by instructor Keiko Nakahara. I was so excited when the instructor told us that this time we would be getting to the root of “liberation”!
Registration for the new Miross curriculum had opened, but I couldn’t apply because I couldn’t afford the fee. My friends were applying one after another. I felt indescribable misery and pettiness for not having enough money. I felt jealous and despicable, thinking, “If they have money, why don’t they lend it to me?” I felt lonely, frustrated, and left behind by my peers because I couldn’t take the course. Then the instructor called me. I was in tears and said to her, “Oh, I wish I could take the new curriculum with everyone.” She said, “What, are you giving up? You can take it! you don’t have to give up!”
I found myself in a state of despondency for having given up! “I see! I’ve been giving up on everything from the very beginning of my life!” I thought. That made me realize that I’d had no intention of taking this course in the first place. Then, the day before the deadline, I applied.
My partner worked on arranging the money, and my older sister even offered to lend me some, making it possible for me to take the course! “I’m so glad I didn’t give up!” I wept for joy. Even before taking the new curriculum, I was full of appreciation. I’m truly grateful!
Our first Miross Practical Course began soon after. Once I acknowledged the desperate self who gave up on everything, the output experience came.
My daughter, a junior in college, had started saying things like, “I don’t want to go to college” and “I want to die.” On the mornings she left for college, she would cry on her knees and cough so badly that she was unable to breathe normally.
Her cough got worse and worse, so I took her to the hospital for tests, but there was nothing physically wrong with her. She was diagnosed as having a psychogenic cough caused by stress.
Stress⁉︎ Does she hate college that much? Does hating college lead to wanting to die⁉︎
Until recently, she had said she was going to go to graduate school and work as a researcher.
I asked her many times, “What’s wrong? Did something bad happen?” But she kept saying,
“Nothing’s wrong. I just don’t want to study anymore.”
“What is it⁉︎ What’s going on with her?” I was confused and frightened by the sudden change in my daughter, and brought it up at the second Miross Practical Course. The instructor said, “Feel it deeply!” I said, “No! I’m scared! don’t wanna feel it! No way!” I burst into tears. The instructor and my classmates waited until I seemed to be done. Then, these words came out of my mouth: “I don’t want her to die.”
A Miross Practical Course counseling session soon followed. During the session, I was able to bring out my “view of life and death,” which was something I hadn’t been able to process since I was a child.
When I was in early elementary school, I received the news that my grandfather, who lived far away, had committed suicide. My uncle told me to call my mother’s office right away and tell her exactly what he said. I remember calling her and trying my best to tell her. My mother was shocked. I saw her crying at the family gathering that night. I was very young, and I didn’t know what to do. All I could think of was that I wanted to be by my mother’s side. The only thing that remained was the feeling that I had made her sad by what I’d told her.
Then I experienced the death of two friends, H and S. Ms. H had been a friend since preschool, but once we entered junior high school, we joined different after-school clubs and made friends in those. In high school, we stopped hanging out and barely spoke. Sometimes when our mothers met each other at the supermarket, they would talk a little. Years passed, and I ran into H’s mother.
“Oh, Auntie! How are you? How is H doing?” I said. She replied, “Huh? She passed away.” I didn’t know that H had committed suicide, and from the look on her face, I knew I had said something incredibly insensitive and made her feel sad. After that, even though I lived close by, I couldn’t bring myself to visit her house to pray for her.
My friend S was one year older than me. We’d known each other since elementary school. After we grew up, we met each other again. Our children were in the same grade in elementary school, and through their soccer school we had a lot of fun together watching them grow up. But once they entered junior high school, we gradually grew distant from one another.
The last time I saw S was at the graduation ceremony. I saw her staying quietly by herself, avoiding the crowd of people.
Two weeks later, S’s son wrote to me on our LINE group, “My mother passed away on the XXth. Thank you all for your kindness to her while she was alive. I don’t want to bother anybody, so please don’t tell all your friends the news.” I was shocked by his message. S passed away so quietly, not saying anything to anyone, and asked not to have a funeral because it would be a burden on her parents to pay for the ceremony. I was later told that she had uterine cancer. Why didn’t I speak to her that time at school? Wasn’t there something I could have done⁉︎ I had so many thoughts and feelings going around in my head that, again, I couldn’t even visit S’s parents’ house to pray because of the COVID situation.
I talked about these friends during the follow-up counseling session, and the instructor encouraged me to visit their parents’ houses to pray for them. But, I said, “I should have gone earlier. I can’t go now.” She replied, “That’s why you need to go! Go take a good look at what you see!” That’s how the counseling session ended.
Shortly after the second lesson of the Miross Practical Course, my daughter, who had been so stubborn, opened up and told me that she’d had a frightening experience at college. She said, “Someone at school kicked me down the stairs from behind. And several other times, someone tripped me and made me fall.” “Really?” I said. To be honest, I was puzzled, but knowing that she hadn’t told anyone this whole time gave me an indescribable feeling. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” She said, “I didn’t like the way I was being treated, and I thought that talking about it wouldn’t change anything and would be a waste of time. I didn’t want to make you worry about me by telling you this, and that made me want to die.” I was hit by the words my daughter said, because it was the very image of my own despairing and despondent self who saw life as a waste of time and had given up.
After listening to my daughter’s confession, my response of “Really⁉︎” overlapped with the time I told my mother the news of my grandfather’s death. At last, I understood my mother’s feeling—”I can’t believe it, I don’t want to believe it”—and I was finally able to put an end to it.
When I was a student, there was a time when I was bullied, beaten, and kicked. I never missed school and never told anyone—especially my parents. “I could never tell them! I don’t want to make them sad. I hate myself for being like this! I’m ashamed! I don’t want to lose!” This time, instead of me, my daughter expressed her fears without giving up. When my mother heard about my daughter’s experience, she exclaimed, “Why didn’t you tell me?” Seeing this conversation between my mother and my daughter, I thought to myself, “I could have just said it back then.” I was able to see and feel the perspectives of both mother and child at the same time. I felt that my daughter saved me by expressing herself.
I shared this with my partner and my sister, who was taking the Miross Practical Course with me. My sister understood how we felt. After that, my daughter had an urge to see her dad (my ex-husband), so we headed there without even calling him! Even though we were there on short notice, he came right over. He listened quietly and then hugged my daughter firmly and said, “It’s okay now!” I was moved to tears as he hugged my daughter with such strength. I felt as if my inner masculine aspect was firmly embracing my wounded feminine aspect.
A few days later, my daughter made a further confession. She told me that she had been bullied by dozens of people, male and female, ever since her first year of college. She had no clue why it happened. They said things like, “Don’t come to school!” “Die!” “For God’s sake, die!” “You’re still alive?” She would get bumped by people passing by her, and so forth. After hearing this, I couldn’t take it anymore and rang up my sister. I was crying and distraught, and everyone in my sister’s family listened to me. My sister’s husband in particular seemed to care, and he calmed me down. Why hadn’t I noticed it earlier? What could I do for her? My mind got all cluttered up just thinking about it. Then my sister told me to contact the Miross instructor, Ms. Nakahara.
I called her, and she said, “The thing is, she’s still alive right there in front of you!” Hearing this, the sense of uneasiness I’d had just a moment before disappeared right away. “Oh yes, that’s right.” I understood what she meant from deep in my core.
Shortly after this, my daughter told me the reason she didn’t die: because her home and family were warm and happy. She looked very lighthearted.
When I heard my daughter’s confession, what I felt for the bullies was jealousy. I realized how I felt about myself. “I’m not happy!” “I’ll never get it!” “I envy them, I’m not like that!” I had been directing the energy of jealousy toward my sister and other people I’d been comparing myself to for so long. It felt indescribable. But then my daughter told me she was happy! And so was I! I was able to understand firmly that both sides were inside me, and that I’d been bullying myself this way.
In the first session of the Practical Course, I found out that I had given up life, and that I was apathetic. In the second session and follow-up counseling, I found out that I hadn’t been “living.”Through these experiences, I recognized that my mission was to study the physical and mental effects of communication errors. I shared this in the last session of the Practical Course.
Since meeting Instructor Nakahara, I’ve been eager to know about myself and faced deep within myself along with my friends, as a representative of the whole family with my sister. And each thing I’ve understood has turned out its shape. I could see my willpower rising from my partner, and my maleness in front of me! My daughter’s two fathers were very supportive of their scarred child. My father and my sister’s husband all seemed to be supportive as well.
My mother said, “Your daughter showed us the common wounds that we all had representing the whole family and ancestors!” And she took it in along with me. When I told the instructor what my mother had said, she told me that it was all to confirm to me what I, as a representative of my clan, understood to be the truth. I was very touched. This was a “confronted with the entire family” experience. That’s how I felt.
After I completed the Miross Practical Course, my daughter came to me and said this would be her last confession. She told me how intense the bullying was. It wasn’t just words—she was also punched, kicked, had money taken, had her hair cut, and was almost slashed with a box cutter. When she told me about this, she was completely different from the way she’d been when she first confessed to me about the bullying. She talked matter-of-factly with an occasional smile on her face, and I listened to her calmly. I felt that everything was in the past.
As for S and H, various people got things moving, and I was able to visit their houses to pray. Despite the suddenness of the visit, S’s mother welcomed us.
I was able to say thank you to her. To my surprise, her son came over and showed me how much he had grown! He said, “Thank you for coming today for my mother”. I was very moved.
I went to pray at H’s house, too. Her parents were all there to welcome me! Her father said, “Oh, Naomi, you used to play with H a lot. We missed you! Thank you for coming today!”
Her mother brought up what I’d said when she told me the news. I told her I didn’t know at the time that H had passed away, and I thought I might have made her sad by saying something insensitive.
I told her, “I’m sorry it took me so long to come to see H.” She seemed surprised and said, “Don’t worry about that.” I was surprised to hear from her that she had just finished the 13th anniversary of Hs passing. We sat down in front of H’s photo and altar, and I told her, “I’m sorry for coming so late, and thank you.”
Her mother told me about when H passed away. It happened in the few minutes when she went out to the supermarket. H couldn’t get along with her co-workers at work and felt left out. She couldn’t get along with the man she loved. People around her were getting married and she felt alone. A lot of things were happening at once. Way back in our student days, she’d stopped going to school and said it was too hard for her. It started in preschool. She had to go to the bathroom so often that her friends followed her. Because of that a teacher scolded her, saying, “Don’t go.” After that, she shockingly peed in the classroom in front of everyone. That was a traumatizing experience for her. In this way, the flaws in our hearts and minds that we receive as children become repeated errors, even in adulthood.
H’s mother told me I could come over anytime I wanted. At home, my daughter also prayed for H, and after hearing her mom’s story, she said, “Oh, I might have been like her.” Hearing that, I was convinced that my daughter’s troubles were truly in the past.
She now says, “I don’t know why I wanted to die so badly. I don’t feel that way at all!”
Her cough, which used to be so bad, is completely gone. And now she’s decided to quit her current university and move on to the next stage of her life. She’s excited about what she’s going to do next! I’m excited too!
It felt like a lot of experiences came all at once, but they passed by in an instant. Ego creates puzzles at times, but I have Miross. I’m going to make it through. I’m not alone! I have friends! I was able to experience all of this with peace of mind because I had a consistent trusting feeling at all times. It was an amazing Miross Practical Course!
Thank you to Instructor Nakahara and to everyone who participated in the Practical Course with me. I also would like to thank Mr. Rossco and Ms. Midori.