The Burly Bodyguard

March 20th, 2011

The energy still vibrates powerfully. It is now Tuesday morning, February 15, nearly eighteen hours after an amazing heart-opening experience. The feeling of magical light in my heart continues to dazzle my imagination, giving me the sensation of living in a mystical energy playground. I begin to wonder just how long I might be able to sustain this new heart magic – an unconditionally-loving Valentines Day gift from the universe. 

It is my day off from Keith’s porch – a day in which I would normally want to write – but I want nothing more than to simply enjoy the flowing energy. After a delightful morning conversation, Rae and I break from tradition and head out to a local restaurant for breakfast. As an unexpected synchronicity, Avril soon joins us. 

“Wow Brenda.” Avril exclaims from six feet away. “I can feel your heart energy vibrating clear over here.” 

Rae nods with agreement, as she too acknowledges that she can clearly feel the energy that continues to flow through my heart. I simply focus on the beautiful energy – feeling as if I am breathing it in through every pore in my body and then radiating it out as pure unconditional love. 

Park Bench Playfulness 

“I want to sit on a park bench and simply watch the world float by.” I tell Rae as I think of stories told by Eckhart Tolle, one of my favorite authors. “I want to enjoy this amazing energy for as long as it lasts.” 

“I know just the place.” Rae responds. 

Soon Rae, Avril and I are giggling at the top of a nearby hill – a hill that I have rarely visited since the completion of my Sun Course. To my shock and surprise, all of the thick brush has been cleared away and two modern park benches have been erected right in the very same spot where I many times meditated in complete isolation amidst thick underbrush – the exact same spot where I first began to experience powerful awakening energies in my second and third chakras. 

As the three of us banter in playful silliness while basking in the morning sun and gorgeous views, I spot a young man in the distance. Our visitor begins to turn away when he notices that the benches are occupied. Avril joyfully calls out and invites him to join us. 

Following the Energy 

Seconds later, we are all engaged in silly conversation with this handsome, thirty-something young man. Avril and Rae seem to playfully tease him relentlessly, keeping the conversation at a safe surface level. For some reason, my heart draws me to engage Peter at a deeper level of discussion. Soon the two of us are discussing our respective spiritual paths. Within a few minutes, Rae and Avril disperse to do their own silent connection with nature while Peter and I discuss synchronicities, issues of following our hearts, and my favorite topic – that of a special magical porch in San Marcos. 

I cannot explain why, but the peaceful vibration in my heart tells me that this conversation is important. For more than an hour, Peter and I sit and share stories. His energy is very intriguing. A whispering Jedi voice tells me that we are two old souls who knew each other in another dimension. 

I am deeply curious to see where this chance meeting might lead. 

Chaotic Confusion 

By mid-afternoon, after nearly 24 hours of basking in my newfound heart magic, I again find myself at home, attempting to begin tapping away on my tiny laptop. 

Minutes later, Avril stops by for another visit. She and Rae begin to chatter while I try to ignore them both, determined to get back into the swing of my writing. Soon, another new friend, I’ll call her Kathy, drops by. For reasons not-yet understood, my energy spikes into a mode of anxiety and near panic attack. I soon isolate myself in my bedroom, desperately wanting to peacefully type while my friends visit in the living room. But with every sound that I overhear, I feel as if a huge wave of dense energy is shaking me at my very core – as if the sounds themselves are attacking my heart. While everyone in the living room simply engages in animated conversation, confusion and chaos overwhelm my soul. 

As my heart magic fades away, the glowing love is quickly replaced by a painful churning in my solar plexus, directly above my belly button. All attempts at writing fade into nothingness as the onslaught of confusing waves of dense energy consume my peace.

Minutes later, having given up on writing, I attempt to rejoin the bustling energy in the living room, but my tummy is so painful that I cannot concentrate or participate in the discussions. I have gone from bliss to pain in a matter of minutes. I am soon in a mode of total shutdown. 

To make a long story short, the next hour feels like a lifetime of energetic chaos. As I describe my pain, no one seems to believe what I intuitively know to be true – that the pain is merely emotional density demanding my love and attention. I somehow survive the continued waves of anxiety – waves that subside considerably when my houseguests depart.

Writing Wars 

As Rae and I finally have a quiet evening to talk, I burst into tears, attempting to process through my emotional war zone with the help of her loving assistance. 

I misread the onslaught of chaotic energies and interpret it as merely frustration regarding my writing. Yes, I am in deep conflict over my writing, returning to the same dilemmas that I faced last November, namely “Do I write or do I more fully immerse myself in the growth experiences?” I desperately want to do both, but recognize that this is simply not possible. 

I want to have more time to play and to be social and I desperately want to feel less internal pressure to remain current with my writing – yet I absolutely know that I must write. 

Anger swells in my soul. That anger is again directed at God. I am angry at the internal guidance that tells me I must write. I feel rebellious, wanting to just grow and play. Writing is once again beginning to feel like work. I am resentful that my heart continues to push me forward, not letting me slow down or stop to rest along the way. 

I feel trapped, once again struggling with my God Drama – the drama of blaming God for the situation in which I have placed myself. Deep down I recognize that I am responsible for creating the insane pressure and guilt – that I am the one turning my writing into a resented chore. 

After releasing the pressure through a flood of tears, I make an internal peace treaty with my heart. 

First, I will continue to fully immerse myself in the intense non-stop growth process, taking detailed notes throughout the hurricane-like journey. Second, I will continue to write, but I will be gentle and loving with myself, giving myself time to heal and to integrate my growth between writing sessions. If I get a month or two behind, I can always catch up in April when Keith ends his daily classes.  

Thou Shalt Not 

On Wednesday morning, February 16, as I attempt to take notes regarding Tuesday’s emotional journey, I again experience the same deep painful agitation in my solar plexus, accompanied by the identical chaotic anxiety energies. That pain had completely disappeared during the night, and had only resurfaced as I attempted to document the emotions. 

The “old me” would have written this all off as an intermittent tummy ache or as a volatile case of parasites, but I know with all of my heart that my subconscious is beginning to communicate with me in powerful physical metaphors. 

As I begin to sink into a feeling of helplessness regarding the intensity of the confusing pain, an intuitive tickle causes me to meditate – to ask my Higher Self for guidance on what is really happening with the pains inside of my body. 

Almost immediately the intuitions begin to flow freely. First, the pain clearly tells me its name. It is the name of one of my extended family members – a name that reminds me deeply of religious patriarchy and authority. For the sake of family privacy in this writing, I will simply call this pain ‘Frank’ (not the real name of my relative). Second, I intuitively know that the pain is related to all of the “Thou shalt not” feelings that have suppressed me through my life, with the most prominent of those being sexual repression – an issue that continues to taunt and to haunt me through relationship dysfunction and fears. 

For nearly a year I have been gently releasing deeply rooted resistance to the possibilities of a relationship. In the middle of my meditation today, I now realize that the time has arrived for me to swallow my pride and fears. It is time to address the deeper core issues in a head on manner. 

As I further ponder the intense panic-filled energies that swarm around me in my attempt to write, I remember how these same energies have overwhelmed me in the past. Escaping to a movie theatre has always been my favorite antidote of choice – but today I will do something else. I will plop myself down in the middle of Keith’s magical porch, asking for help in exploring a very embarrassing issue. 

Yes, my newfound heart magic is giving me just the courage I need to face this intense emotional discomfort without fleeing in avoidance. I am tired of running away from the emotional chaos. I will stand and face these trembling energies with nurturing love. 

Astral Rascal 

At the start of afternoon group, as I begin to focus on my own processing, Keith grabs my attention and asks if I will work with a woman seated on the ground next to his green camping chair. I am clueless as to the nature of her tearful panic-filled outburst. 

“Keith,” I ask quietly, “I’m concerned that the strong pain in my solar plexus is energetically affecting her, making her emotions more intense? Are you sure it is OK for me to be working with her even when I am going through my own deep release process?” 

After Keith reassures me that everything will be OK, and that he does want me to work with this woman, I simply focus on holding her hands, anchoring in a powerful energy of unconditional love and radiating that energy in her direction. 

The woman’s agitation and panic seems to grow even stronger as I send her more love. 

A minute later, Keith focuses his attention directly onto the woman with whom I am working.

“How long has this being been with you?” Keith asks the woman abruptly, literally shocking me with his question. 

For the next thirty minutes Keith lovingly works with this woman, guiding her through a safe and loving procedure of her releasing the unwanted astral rascal that is sharing her body. Throughout the process, I continue to grasp this beautiful woman’s hands while holding a loving energetic space for her. I am deeply connected to this woman’s energy. I can see and feel the ongoing panic in her eyes, and I can intuitively sense the intense emotions through which she is passing. 

Yet I feel quite small and helpless as I watch the process. I am envious of Keith’s deep connection to the energies, and I begin to wonder if I will ever begin to sense that type of deeper guidance flowing directly through me. But even though the unfolding events seem beyond my present intuitive grasp, there is no doubt in my mind that they are real. For the second chocolate ceremony in a row, I am participating in a process that I simply cannot deny. 

Sovereign Beings  

Weeks later, as I discuss the possibility of briefly writing about this experience, Keith gives me permission but asks me to make a few points extremely clear in my words. 

Each of us is a sovereign being, in full control of our body and our reality – everything that happens to us is either something that we explicitly create or something that we allow to happen. No such outside force has either the power or the capacity to occupy our space without our implicit agreement. 

There is always a “payoff” to allowing an other-dimensional being to share our field. We are not a victim of such a being, nor are we at its mercy. It is personal choice as to whether one wants to keep the payoff or have the being leave. It helps if we can make this choice from a place of love. Without a deep readjustment in beliefs, agendas, and payoffs, a removed companion or a replacement would likely be back within a few days. 

Keith’s role in situations like these is to help the person recognize what they are doing and why, to empower them to take responsibility for their choices, and to present them with options. 

Not About Fixing 

After participating in the first half of this amazing Wednesday afternoon ceremony, my own second and third chakras continue to be extremely agitated. Somehow I found the stamina and love to assist others but my capacity to do so is running on empty. I am slightly confused why all of the loving energy that I have been channeling through my body does not seem to transmute the painful density that is still running rampant in my tummy. 

“Keith, I need your help.” I beg as group begins to shift in a new direction. “I cannot do this by myself. I am feeling quite nervous and helpless.” 

“It is not about fixing it.” Keith soon responds. “Simply invite the light to join you in your abdomen and show you what you need to know about the next step of your process.” 

A deep intuition resonates in my soul, confirming that this entire energy ‘freak-out’ is based on my desire to fix the unpleasant pain. The lesson is teaching me to simply shine love and to allow things to be exactly as they are – to recognize that they are happening for a reason, and that the reason will unfold and teach me over time. My job is simply to love, accept, connect, feel, and observe – doing so without attempting to fix or to judge the situation as wrong or bad. 

I visualize the energy earthquake in my abdomen as being a frightened and scared puppy. In quiet meditation, I sit down with the puppy and ask it to teach me. 

Sexual Abuse 

“Keith, I feel as if I was sexually abused by my religion.” I suddenly blurt out. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” I continue, “absolutely nothing ever happened to me in a physical way – but I do feel as if I was deeply abused in an energetic and emotional way.” 

As I make these bizarre statements, my mind is overflowing with the feelings of religious guilt and shame that dominated my youth. I begin to deeply contemplate how the judgmental beliefs of my childhood literally traumatized me during periods of deeply emotional gender struggle. 

“This morning, during my meditation,” I continue telling Keith, “I suddenly recognized that this painful density is named ‘Frank’, that it deals with religious patriarchal domination, and that it is shaped and feels like a prickly pear cactus that is poking me on the inside of my abdomen – to get my attention – to get my focus.” 

Keith congratulates me for discovering another piece of my healing puzzle. I am excited to further explore the subconscious metaphor. But that will have to wait for a future group, as our time has run out. For now, my abdominal pain has settled, but something tells me it will be back. 

Budding Friendship 

That evening after group, I share a delicious pizza with my new friend Peter – the same young man who I met yesterday – the same spiritual seeker who I had invited to join me on Keith’s magical porch. 

Peter and I enjoy a long and delightful conversation, discussing today’s eventful afternoon following which I feel guided to share considerable details of my own life journey. I find it quite interesting that the Universe is beginning to flood my life with friends of the male gender at a time when I am fully immersed in attempting to re-integrate deep and long-held rejection of male energy in my life. There is no doubt in my mind that a higher influence is guiding my path. 

I love having a thirty-two year-old young man as a beautiful friend – a friendship that has developed in deeply synchronous ways.

Sexual Repression 

Thursday turns into an unusual day off. Keith is involved in a private ceremony across the lake, and I crave the opportunity to spend another day pursuing my writing. 

But as I attempt to write, my emotions are still too raw. I simply lay on the daybed, moping and depressed. Too many repressed feelings stir in my consciousness, making concentration and focus next to impossible. Rae soon puts on some music and begins to dance around the living room, inviting me to join her. 

As I drag myself off the daybed and begin to dance, I am surprised to notice a sense of repressed sexuality surfacing in my body movements. Almost simultaneously, deep anger surges in my soul – anger at how such feelings and expression had been so energetically suppressed during my tender years – a self-imposed suppression that continues to this very day. The words satanic and evil come to mind. 

As Rae strolls down to the lake to spend some alone time, I continue to explore the bubbling emotions that are swirling around inside of me. For several hours I dance, I listen to music, and I meditate. The deep emotions continue to surge like rising and violent tides. I simply allow the currents to ebb and flow, determined to allow the buried pain to find its way to the surface of my churning emotional waters. 

Open Minds 

Later that afternoon, Rae returns with the woman I’m calling Kathy – a woman who has previously confided to Rae and I about her open sexual lifestyle. I finally begin to put the dots together. The first time I felt this intense abdominal pain was when Kathy walked in to my living room on Tuesday. The pain is related to repressed sexuality, and Kathy represents to me the exact opposite of repression in the sexual area. 

Prior to today, I have felt extremely uneasy around Kathy, even projecting slight judgments in her direction. But now, I opt to share my life story and to engage her in a full-on discussion about my own present struggles in healing from perceived past sexual repression.  

At the end of the conversation, my self-imposed frustration continues. I begin to realize that the most obvious way to push through issues of sexual repression would be to have open and uninhibited sexual experience – but the idea is not appealing to my heart. I have absolutely no desire to simply sleep around, and there are no prospective men in my life. I know that physical intimacy without a deeper connection is simply something in which I am not interested – yet part of me desperately craves a safe way to explore at this level of intimacy with a man. It has been nearly ten years since I have even been held by a man. 

“I wish there was a way to simply do some type of cuddle therapy.” I later comment to Rae with a smile on my face. “I would love to simply experience what it feels like to be held and to just share energy with a man – the type that you and I share with each other.” 

To my surprise, Rae pulls a card out of her bag and shows it to me. It is the card of a “cuddle therapist” that she recently met in California. I just giggle and smile at the synchronous coincidence. 

Energy Cuddles 

For a week or two, Rae and I have gotten into the habit of enjoying spiritual healing conversations with each other while resting together on the daybed in the living room, lightly touching an arm, a foot, our backs, etc… We often perform a little Reiki on each other. Other times, we simply rest and allow the energy to trickle through whatever part of our bodies might be touching. Through this process, I have developed a great appreciation for the amazing power of human touch.  

For us, this has become our own unique form of beautiful cuddle therapy – one that has been quite powerful – one that has taught me that if I ever do get into a relationship, that cuddling at an energetic level is an absolute requirement, something I deeply crave. 

Lucid Letdowns 

Overactive energy again churns in my tummy as I awaken and squint at the clock. It is 2:30 a.m. on Friday morning. I am beginning to wonder if this painful abdomen will be my lifelong companion – yet I continue to trust that I am simply in the midst of a powerful subconscious process that is gradually unfolding. 

After what feels like hours of simply surrendering and observing the painful grumbling rumbling of my solar plexus, I finally doze off again. To my surprise I experience my first lucid dream in a very long time. 

I find myself in Utah, at the home of an acquaintance. I was invited to a spiritual gathering that was promised to include dinner, but I soon learn that my only nourishment for the evening will be two tiny dessert tarts. I head into the kitchen to get some water. As I fill a glass from the tap, I suddenly catch myself. 

“We’re in Utah, right?” I ask a nearby person. “It’s OK to drink this water, right?” 

Soon, I seamlessly find myself at a local ATM, pulling out some much needed cash. To my surprise, the money that pops out of the machine is Guatemalan Quetzales. 

“Wait, this must be a dream!” I exclaim to myself with excitement, barely managing to remain partially asleep in the dream. For five minutes, I play around, doing a little flying and exploring in my dream – but I gradually become too conscious to do anything but open my eyes and ponder what just happened. 

“Hmmm,” I think to myself as I attempt to analyze the dream. “I was invited to a spiritual gathering where I was also supposed be given physical nourishment – yet the only thing I got in a physical way was what feels like broken promises and a couple of tiny unfulfilling treats.” 

My God drama again comes to mind – blaming God and my spirituality for the lack of physical gratification – for the sexual suppression that continues to find me going without a cuddling/romantic relationship in this lifetime. 

Just a year ago, romance was the last thing I wanted. Now, I deeply believe that an opportunity to safely share intimate cuddling energy with a partner would be a powerful way to further my healing journey. 

Universal Setup 

For several months, Keith and I have both been working on getting a joint friend of ours to schedule a session. As fate would have it, she was scheduled to meet with Keith at 9:00 a.m. on Friday morning, and I had been invited to participate. 

As I wander out in the direction of Keith’s energy playground, I bump into my friend – only she is heading in the opposite direction.

“Brenda,” she begins apologetically, “I have cancelled my appointment because I have a bad cold. I’m so glad we bumped into each other so that you won’t need to walk all the way out to Keith’s. 

My heart giggles as I recognize another synchronous storyline unfolding. I desperately need my own private time with Keith and I realize that the Universe has just set me up with that opportunity. I continue walking forward in the direction of Keith’s magical porch. 

Burly Bodyguard 

“Close your eyes and walk down into your tummy.” Keith guides me in meditation. 

While I still do not visualize well, I have a powerful intuitive sense of my surroundings. I am in a very dark cave. There is no way in our out. I am in an absolutely dark place with no windows or doors. The rock walls are moist, cold, and rough. The uneven floor is covered with an eerie layer of human bones.  

As I stand motionless in this dark, lifeless room, I feel as if I am going crazy. My heart beats rapidly as familiar feelings of panic and anxiety begin to consume my soul. My solar plexus vibrates wildly with a feeling of shaking terror. 

“Create a trap door in the floor.” Keith guides me. 

Anxious to find a way out of my frightening place, I quickly visualize a small trap door below me. Somehow, a light must have turned on somewhere in the cave-like room, because I see that the ground is a reddish-brown color. 

After descending through the trap door and down a ladder, I find myself in an alley. 

“Find a doorway and walk through it.” Keith guides me. 

I look around and find a door, but as I begin to walk toward it, a large burly bodyguard steps out of the darkness and stands in my way, refusing to let me pass. 

“I don’t know what to do.” I tell Keith with a feeling of puzzlement. “I intuitively know that the bodyguard will simply not let me enter this area of my subconscious. It is forbidden to me.” 

“Can the bodyguard go inside the door?” Keith asks me what at first feels like a strange question. 

“Yes, I think so.” I respond after meditating briefly. 

“That is what I’m getting too.” Keith replies. “Why don’t you ask the bodyguard to go inside and bring something back outside for you.” 

Embarrassing Revelations 

It is with great hesitance that I resume sharing again with Keith. A sense of embarrassment surges through my soul as I contemplate whether or not I am capable of talking about what the bodyguard just brought me. 

“I am all in.” I silently tell myself, determined to heal this part of my life so that I can finally be free of the subconscious dysfunction that still plagues my waking life. 

“The bodyguard just brought me a couple of Kotex pads.” I shyly relate to Keith, part of me wanting to just run away and be done with this process. 

I then proceed to share a story that happened at age eleven. I was a very shy boy, playing after school in my elementary school playground. Suddenly, several of the popular boys ran out of the school and called for me to follow them to the far corner of the softball field.  

As I watched curiously, they inserted firecrackers into what looked like large first-aide pads, and then proceeded to blow them up. 

“What are those?” I asked naively. 

“They are Kotex pads from the girls’ bathroom.” One of the boys responded while laughing at me. 

To make a long story short, I later snuck into the girls’ bathroom to buy a few pads for myself. I had no idea what they were, but I had to find out. Shame and feelings of being evil swarmed through my soul as I brought those curious treasures home to examine in secrecy. I was terrified that someone would find out – that I would be deeply punished if anyone ever knew. 

Heart Fantasies 

“Ask the bodyguard to go back in and to bring something else back outside.” Keith again guides me. 

As I do so, another series of memories soon surface in my subconscious mind – painful and deeply embarrassing memories that I have never before shared with a living soul on this earth. 

I hesitate to go on sharing, but soon swallow my pride as I delve into my second embarrassing story of the morning. I am determined to face my fears and to find the answer to transmuting these dense energetic memories. 

“A whole series of flashbacks just flooded my mind.” I tell Keith. “I was reminded about how I used to fantasize about being a woman – but the fantasies were always very perverted and evil.” 

“I used to imagine myself as a beautiful woman whose body was exploited.” I continued to explain. “I envisioned myself as being kidnapped by evil perverted men, then being kept as a sex slave or being forced to model for pornography, etc…” 

As I ponder the embarrassing revelations that just splattered out of my mouth, another set of powerful healing insights unexpectedly floods through my consciousness – thoughts that had never before crossed my mind. 

“My heart desperately craved the opportunity to experience life as a woman,” I explain to Keith while light bulbs begin to simultaneously flash in my head, “but I found it impossible to envision any possible way to ever experience normal healthy sexuality as a woman. I was so religiously shut down in the sexual arena, that even entertaining my heart’s deepest desires to be female felt like an evil satanic perversion.” 

“Yes, at the tender young age of eleven,” I continue pouring my heart out to Keith, “sexuality felt so intensely evil that the only way I could imagine exploring sexuality as a female, without being sinful, would be if it were forced on me against my will – to be used as a sex object by others. That way I would not be committing a sin. Any type of voluntary sexual expression was unthinkable, evil, a sure ticket to Hell.”  

“I absolutely knew that if my heart’s fantasies were to ever come true, I could never experience a normal life as a woman.” 

Fearful Explorations 

“You are having a deep fear come up.” Keith tells me matter-of-factly. “It is something that you want to know, but something that you are afraid to know.” 

It takes me a few minutes to muster the courage to continue, but I finally tell Keith just what the fear is about. 

“Ever since my teen years,” I hesitatingly begin, “I have worried and wondered if my deeply rooted gender identity issues were what caused my sexual confusions, or if it might have been the other way around – that maybe my sexual confusions caused me to engage in weird fantasies that caused me to become gender confused as well.” 

“Let’s explore that issue.” Keith reassures me. “Go back to the bodyguard and ask him to bring something else back through the doorway. 

Bathtub Tears 

Almost immediately, another long-forgotten memory floods into my consciousness. 

“I was in the bathtub with my sister.” I begin to share with Keith. “I could not have been over three or four years old, so she must have been about five or six.” 

I don’t know why, but I was mad, throwing a little bit of a tantrum. My sister and I were sitting face to face in the tub. I reached out with the bottom of my foot to try to lightly kick her, but in the process I accidentally hit her quite hard with my heel, right in the center of her crotch. As my sister began to scream with pain, my mother came running into the bathroom to see what was happening. 

“You can’t kick her there.” My mother angrily scolded me. “She is a girl and it really hurts.” 

I remember feeling horrible for what I had done, but I also remember feeling extremely confused about the boy/girl thing. I felt quite devastated that she was a girl and that I was not. At that tender young age, I had never paid any attention to genitals, and that was the last time I ever shared a bathtub with my sister. That little thing between my legs really confused me. I didn’t know what it was for, or why I was different. I accepted the fact that I was told that I was a boy – it was a physical fact that I seemed incapable of disputing – but from that age onward I was always very confused and curious while being kept completely in the dark. 

Faded Memories 

“Brenda,” Keith reassures me, “I am getting strong guidance that your gender struggles were already in full swing during that bathtub scene. Everything you say and everything I feel energetically points to the fact that your struggles started much earlier than age ten.” 

I explain to Keith that when I look at my first and second grade photos, I recognize a very sad little boy – a little boy who I know felt very awkward, insecure, and even ugly – but I have no memory regarding the origin of those feelings – I have absolutely no evidence to back up the feelings that are surfacing in my heart. 

As Keith again reassures me that my gender issues started at a very young age, I do have to admit that I went through my entire childhood as a people pleaser, desperately trying to win the love and approval of my parents by playing the role of a perfect little boy – but again, I have no clear memory of wishing I were a girl other than the fact that I loved doing girl things with my sister, and I loved helping my mother with the cooking and sewing.  But I also loved many rough and tumble boy things too, including riding bicycles and playing baseball. 

From age six or seven onward, however, I do have many quite clear traumatic memories in which I was deeply curious and confused about body issues – mostly dealing with curiosity about the weird appendage between my legs and my inability to talk about it with anyone. 

I again share another embarrassing story with Keith – a story which must have taken place when I was about ten years old. My oldest sister was a senior in high school, and was dancing around the living room. 

“Come and slow dance with me.” My sister innocently asked me. 

As I got close to her and held her in dance position, I cowered and blurted out in a very embarrassed manner, “But I don’t want to get you pregnant.” 

The only thing I knew was that if boys and girls slept together, then the girl might get pregnant. It only made logical sense that if they stood up together, side by side, the same thing might happen. 

I was horrified and humiliated when my sister screamed out to my mother, “You need to teach him about the birds and the bees.” 

Sexually Neglected 

Keith is very firm in what he tells me next. First he re-emphasizes that I do have the ability to read energy, and that as a young child I picked up on energetic emotions and shame-filled judgments of others even when they were not verbally spoken. Then Keith reassures me that the majority of my magic was shut down prior to the ages in which I would be able to remember ever having had that magic. 

“For instance,” Keith tells me, “your mother may not have verbally said a great deal to you when you kicked your sister in the bathtub, but you picked up a huge amount of judgment, shame, and guilt from her as you absorbed the underlying energy of her behavior, her beliefs, and her religious background. You would have energetically understood the shame-filled gender/sexuality messages even if they were not verbally expressed.” 

“Brenda,” Keith emphasizes strongly, “You were given absolutely no sexual education or guidance during your formative years. You had no one to talk to about your confusing curiosities and struggles. You were not provided with any information and did not feel safe in asking questions. You energetically read the judgmental religious energy of your surroundings, and you were overwhelmingly filled with shame about your unexpressed sexual feelings and curiosities.” 

“There may have been nothing physical,” Keith goes on, “but nevertheless, as a child you were deeply abused in the sexual arena – abused by neglect, misinformation, non-information, and shame-based energies at every turn.” 

I want to say “No, that did not happen.” 

In my heart, however, everything that Keith tells me rings deeply true. 

Tearless Gratitude 

As my Friday morning private session with Keith reaches conclusion, I am filled with deep gratitude – gratitude for having been gifted the amazing opportunity to explore painful and fear-filled childhood memories in a safe way – gratitude for the deep intuitive confirmation and realization that my gender struggles did indeed begin at a much earlier age – and gratitude for the profound meditation experience in which I had personally experienced my subconscious mind (the burly bodyguard) dishing up real memories that provided great clarity to many childhood struggles. 

But one thing that did not happen in the morning is that there was no opportunity for actual emotional release. 

Tears of Release 

Early during the Friday afternoon public chocolate ceremony, my emotional tears begin to flow. As the tears quickly intensify, I intuitively recognize them as deep tears from childhood, deep sorrow for the emotional pain of that little boy. As I sob intensely, I often hit gut-wrenching, belly-shaking sobs – sobs reinforced by the sensation of re-experiencing the hopeless and confusing emotions of that frightened and confused little me. 

The tears flow in waves, sometimes subsiding briefly only to re-intensify in another powerful surge. Twice, Keith wanders over to my seat and gently touches my back with the palm of his hand. Both times, the waves of tear-filled emotion again surge with unexpected intensity, as if Keith is magically causing the emotional release to step up another level. 

After what must be at least a full hour of strong emotional release, the tears begin to fade and my breathing slowly returns to a normal rhythm. 

Headache Energy 

“I now have another small focused headache centered right over my third-eye chakra.” I tell Keith with confusion. 

Keith tells me that the energy in my second chakra is somehow connected to my third eye, and that the pain in my forehead is energy that wants to be allowed back into my third-eye chakra.  

“Allow the energy to flow back in.” Keith coaches me. 

“I don’t know how to allow it.” I respond in frustration after having tried for several minutes. “My head keeps getting in the way, telling me that there is something that I need to do in order to allow, and then it turns into a rational mind game.” 

“Can you give me some type of metaphor to help guide me, and to keep my rational mind busy?” I ask hopefully. 

“Imagine a cracked egg yoke sitting on your forehead.” Keith begins. “Then gradually imagine the yoke flowing down tiny little paths through which it leaks slowly into your head.” 

I love this new metaphor. It keeps my mind occupied while I soon begin to experience the amazing feeling of energy flowing slowly into the center of my head. Simultaneously, I feel an immediate calming energy in my second chakra as well. 

For the next few hours, I give myself permission to simply lie on a pillow, playing with the energies while the rest of group continues around me. What happens is quite amazing. At times I feel my third-eye chakra close up. When it does, my headache returns and my second chakra again begins to feel painful. As I re-engage the egg yoke metaphor, I again feel the third-eye energy begin to flow, at which point the headache disappears and my sacral chakra again returns to a feeling of peaceful vibration. 

As the chocolate ceremony eventually comes to a close, there is no doubt in my mind that both my headache and my abdominal pains are energetically related – and they stem from emotional densities, not physical causes. 

An Ongoing Process 

As I walk home on Friday evening, another intuition has quite clearly imprinted itself in my heart. 

“You have made amazing process in following the unfolding flow of your process.” The Jedi voices whisper. “But you are nowhere near the end of the process. You have only just begun.” 

I nervously, but eagerly look forward to discovering where the flow of my own soul takes me next. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

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