Today I take a momentary step out of linear time. My journey of the last six days has been quite profound – so profound that I must begin to share parts of it now – so profound that my inner guidance will not allow me to do otherwise.
Blending with Love
I earlier mentioned that writing about my healing journey after a seven week lag is turning out to be quite profound. Wow, did I ever underestimate that statement. On Saturday, May 14, I posted a blog entry titled “A Journey with Doubt” – a piece of writing that highlighted a private session I had with Keith on April 4. In that session – a session that I believed at the time to be my last private session with Keith – he guided me to blend my energy with the Angel Moroni, and to allow myself to simply experience divine love.
On May 14, as I rested on my pillow after finishing that writing, I suddenly realized that I had never successfully blended with the unconditionally-loving energy essence of Moroni, nor had I taken the time to simply feel loved by the divine. I had been too busy just trying to keep my head above water during intense five-day-per-week chocolate ceremonies that continued to pull me deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole of emotional healing.
Immediately after this realization, I entered a deep meditation in which I did both. Powerful and pleasurable energy seemed to consume my entire body, focusing mainly on my troublesome lower chakras. For several hours on that Saturday night nine days ago, and continuing to this day, blending and feeling the love of these divine energies has become a regular part of my routine – something that I eagerly anticipate with each meditation venture. I have never meditated so much in my life.
Layers of Waste
On Tuesday, May 17, I published my most recent blog entry titled “In Clock we Trust” – describing profound metaphors that had surfaced during a chocolate ceremony on Sunday April 10.
The first of those unexpected metaphors was that of discovering an inner room in my solar plexus – a room filled with deep layers of human waste. In that eye-opening meditation, I was assisted by angelic metaphors in cleaning out the majority of that waste, triggering deep feelings of “I don’t deserve this help.” Even more profound was the realization that the room covered by human waste was actually my own inner temple, and that no matter what I tried during that Sunday ceremony in early April, I could not get the waste to completely clear.
Routine Shifts
Also beginning in early May, Keith shifted his routine, switching to have only two chocolate ceremonies each week – on Sundays and Wednesdays.
But he also surprised me with something new.
“Brenda,” Keith told me, “I feel guided to open up my porch for a 7:00 a.m. meditation every morning. Anyone that wants to come is invited – and it will be free.”
“What a beautiful way for me to begin transitioning to doing my own work.” I quietly ponder. “I can still be on the porch, enjoying the amazing energy – and I can practice receiving divine guidance and following metaphors all by myself.”
Tears Can Wait
On Wednesday afternoon, May 18, I find myself totally unprepared for what will turn out to be the beginning of an arduous and grueling rollercoaster ride – a ride that begins during a very ordinary morning meditation.
As I sit cross-legged on my favorite pillow, I sense an incredible amount of energy in my body – a body that because of the intense energy flow feels very hot and sweaty, even though the morning air is cool and crisp. Joyful tears trickle down my cheeks as I begin to feel a strong loving energy embracing me, holding me.
“We have been here all along.” I feel the energy silently whisper to me. “We love you, you are home.”
With each deep breath, I feel as if I am breathing love into my heart – but oddly enough my solar plexus simultaneously begins to shake with fear, as if it were saying “Yes, I want this energy … “wait” … “No, stop, I don’t want this energy … yes … no … yes … no …”
Feeling slightly shocked by the intensity of the fearful and painful emotions that are suddenly surfacing, I attempt to stuff them down. Even so, sad and painful tears begin to trickle, quickly replacing the joyful ones of a few minutes earlier.
“This is supposed to be a beautiful meditation.” I think to myself. “I will delay this emotion for a few more hours. It can wait until the afternoon chocolate ceremony.”
The Process of Distractions
At the start of ceremony, the neighbors are engaged in construction, noisily splitting concrete blocks using a machete. The thud, thud, thud, thud of the metal blade on concrete is quite distracting.
“This is part of my process.” I intuitively tell myself. “This is to remind me of the pounding chaotic energies that have taunted me throughout my life, stalking me in the shadows, bringing anxiety and confusion to keep me from discovering the little ego man from Kansas hiding behind the curtain.”
My attention is again drawn to the feeling of deadness in my forehead – a feeling that is accompanied by my old friend, the aching pain in my solar plexus. For nearly two months this solar plexus pain manifests itself during nearly every deep meditation. Today, the pain is quite pronounced and intense, right between the belly button and lower ribs.
Suddenly another distraction enters the fray. It seems that several dogs have followed someone to the porch today – and a couple of them have managed to maneuver their way under both chain link and chicken wire, approaching Keith’s porch with drooling grins as they playfully seek loving attention from their friend and master.
“This too is part of my process.” I immediately deduce. “It reminds me of how my solar plexus is starved for love, how each organ in my abdomen is represented by a junkyard dog, desperately seeking loving nourishment from my heart.” (Full story in ‘Junkyard Dogs and Puppy Love’).
“Could it be that my journey today will take me deeper into my childhood shutdown …” I begin to ponder, “… and deeper into the issues of self-love?”
Five Meter Wall
Meditating intensively, I watch myself, observing every feeling, seeking out new healing metaphors. I feel totally stuck, even when an old metaphor pops into my mind – one that Keith frequently talks about.
I imagine a five-meter-tall wall of glass on the path in front of me. I need to go forward in my path, but don’t have the slightest idea how to proceed without asking for assistance from a Higher Source.
“Higher Self,” I silently beg in meditation, “I feel helpless, not having the slightest clue about how to proceed today. Will you please help me?”
I visualize my little inner child “Sharon”, asking her to join me, to show me what I need to work on. Next, I make a plea for help to the angels.
Desperate To Get Out
I notice a woman across the porch bending forward as if in deep emotional pain.
“When I send healing love to others,” I ponder, “that love always fills me too. Maybe that is my answer.”
I center myself, beginning to breathe slowly and deeply, imagining every breath as filling me with deep unconditional love. I imagine myself as expanding my heart, stretching my inner magic, my magical theme park, to cover the entire porch in an attempt to share light and higher energies.
With each deep breath, I notice that my solar plexus again begins to shake with deep “yes/no” fear, just as it had begun to do this morning. But this time, the shaking is quite wild and intense. What I am experiencing makes absolutely no sense to the rational mind. And I also experience absolutely no intuitive understanding regarding the origin of this powerful emotion – other than that it feels related to fear. If I were not on Keith’s porch, I might think I was going crazy.
Tears begin to trickle. With each deeper breath, the tears push harder, as if forcing themselves through solid rock, determined to find release. Nausea begins to form in my abdomen.
“I don’t have any idea what it is,” I begin to realize, “but something in my solar plexus is desperately begging to get out of my body.”
Terrified of Love
I immerse myself in an new quest – that of imagining my Higher Self, the angels, and my little Sharon – imagining them all hugging me and holding me with unconditional love.
The tears intensify greatly.
“I’m feeling terrified of this love.” I begin to realize. “Why of all things would I be terrified of love?”
Send Down a Dipstick
Finally, for the first time in the ceremony, Keith stops by to check on me. I am quite proud to have gotten this far all by myself. I take a few minutes to fill him in on where I am at in this profound inner journey.
“Go sit with that terror.” Keith guides me firmly. “Take the love in your heart with you, and go down there in your solar plexus. Find out what this is all about.”
As I make a valiant attempt, I immediately feel stuck. Something at the base of my heart chakra will not let me proceed further. I am completely baffled. The love refuses to go to my solar plexus with me.
“Just sit down right there on top of your solar plexus,” Keith begins to guide me further. “Send down a dipstick and bring up something to tell you what is down there.”
More Ugly Brown Waste
Immediately my mind flashes to what I wrote just yesterday.
“I don’t know if it is just because I recently wrote about this,” I tell Keith with doubt, “but I am remembering that inner-temple room that is still covered with a disgusting layer of human waste – waste that I was not able to remove in mid April – waste that I have never since gone back to explore.”
“So the dipstick brought up some of that disgusting waste?” Keith asks the obvious question.
“Yeah,” I respond, “that is what I am getting, even though I still doubt myself a little.”
Another Appeal
As Keith moves on, I again attempt to bring in more divine love. The more I do so, the more intense become my nausea and my tears. Each deep breath increasingly shakes with painful yuck. I wish I could physically vomit, but the source of the sensation is not physical.
As the overwhelming emotions strengthen, I continue to have no clue as to their origin, other than the stark realization that deep fear is involved.
Again I make an appeal for help, begging for my Higher Self, Sharon, anyone at all, to show me what to do, where to go from here. I am desperate to find the energy that is blocking me – that is causing this unbearable emotion – that is preventing me from reaching clarity – that is causing me so much physical pain and nausea.
Turned OFF
“Sharon,” I soon feel guided to be directive, “will you bring this yet-unidentified energy into a conference room so that we can talk.”
I know that I myself cannot find the energy, but I am sure that my beautiful little inner child knows exactly what and where it is.
As I sit down with this conference-room metaphor, I nearly fall asleep. The distractions are so intense that I literally forget what I am doing.
A few minutes later I suddenly remember and realize what just happened. I check in with my feelings. My heart chakra feels lifeless and dead, as if someone found the power switch and flipped it to the OFF position.
Big Stuff
“Congratulations” Keith tells me when I soon fill him in on my progress with the conference room distractions. “This is big-time stuff going on here.”
Keith goes on to teach me that when this many inner defense mechanisms activate to divert and to distract me, then I am definitely getting close to something major – telling me that these defenses will try to keep me at a distance, preventing me at all costs from getting closer to the dysfunctional issues at my very core.
Know Thyself
“Right now,” Keith tells me, “this is about getting to know your self. It is about observing what is so powerfully happening, and then learning about it.”
“But I want this emotion out of me now.” I protest weakly.
“Just learn about yourself.” Keith regretfully responds.
Not Even Mine
As I go back into lone meditation, I desperately want this pain out of me – but I have no clue how to proceed. I simply follow Keith’s inspired advice – watching, feeling, experiencing deep nausea, and crying exhausting rivers of tears.
In the back of my mind, I have learned to keep tabs on what Keith tells others, knowing that quite often his words apply directly to me.
“This negative energy in me is not even mine.” I silently exclaim in my pain. “It comes from my religious and cultural programming. I took it in as a child and have been running this program for my whole life.”
“I want it out now!” I again ponder in agony. “But how do I do that? Higher Self, please help me.”
It Is I
I again pay attention as Keith works with a couple on a few relationship issues. I suddenly realize that the issue of not allowing myself to be loved is endemic, pervasive both inside and out. I am not allowing any type of love, whether it is self-love, divine love, or relationship love. Every time that I get close to someone, such as Anton, I find a way to sabotage it. I block that love completely.
“The love is freely available,” I ponder deeply, “but it is I, me, myself, that will not allow the love in.”
Resistance Is Futile
“Get on your hands and knees and hit some pillows.” The little Jedi voices whisper quietly.
“No, I don’t want to embarrass myself.” I resist the internal guidance. “I will do this one without tears and anger.”
Finally, I give in to my inner prompts, knowing that resistance is futile. I swallow my pride and remember how Keith has repeatedly told me that sometimes you have to bawl your brains out – to feel the emotions to the core – in order to discover the hidden treasure that lies below them as your teacher.
I Hate You
I am extremely angry at this energy for having so much insane power over me. I again hesitate, not wanting to go into trauma-drama mode in front of the group.
“The group today is so calm and quiet.” I ponder with doubt. “I will embarrass myself. I want to find some other way … peaceful and loving … no screaming or crying.”
“I want this out of me now!” I silently exclaim in pain. “This energy does not belong inside! Get it out! I hate it!”
Trying to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible, I begin to slowly pound my fist on a small foam cushion, at the same time whispering “I hate you … I hate you … I hate you … I hate you … I hate you!”
As I do so, the dam breaks and my bottled up emotions surge and burst forth. I attempt to quietly sob as deep gut-wrenching tears find their release, accompanied by violent teeth and jaw chattering. My belly shakes; my whole body shakes.
I still don’t know what the real source of the anger is.
I Was a Teenager
“How old were you?” Keith asks lovingly as he turns attention back to me.
Confusion still consumes my mind. I ponder silently for a few minutes while continuing my not-so-inconspicuous emotional release.
“I don’t know.” I finally respond. “I have no clue.”
But one thing Keith’s question does is to somehow give me permission to go deeper – permission that I seemed incapable of granting to myself.
I begin to hit the cushion more forcefully, again whispering “I hate you … I hate you … I hate you.”
The intensity of the gut-wrenching emotion shocks me. This is real stinging venom, all-consuming hatred, deadly poison that still resides in me. Suddenly, the realization comes.
“It is intense self-hatred,” I mumble to Keith through snarled and moist hair that has fallen over my tear-filled eyes, “and I was a teenager.”
Skillfully Hiding
As I continue the process of release, I literally hate myself. I remember horrendous emotions of self-hatred that began with my first gender struggles, sometime around age eleven. Those putrid emotions of hatred intensified rapidly into my teen years, gradually beginning to level off and lessen after my late thirties.
After completing a powerful therapy workshop in June of 2004, I had thought myself to be finally free form these emotions of self-degradation.
“Wow,” I think to myself, “how could these deeply buried emotions have continued to hide so skillfully?”
Isn’t There Some Way?
“I hate you … I hate you … I hate you.” I continue to repeat to myself as the sobs and belly shakes continue to rumble. Gradually, the release fades to whimpers – but the painful emotions of self-hatred continue to rage a silent inner war.
“Keith, isn’t there some way I could do this easier and faster? I ask pleadingly.
“No Brenda,” Keith responds, “What I’m getting right now is that this is exactly the way you need to be doing it.”
“Can’t she move this with higher energies,” a woman across the porch speaks up. “Can’t she ask the energies to speed it up and to help?”
“No,” Keith responds with confidence.
A New Level
Keith goes on to give the group a beautiful explanation of my process. I listen with deep loving appreciation, for I too desperately need to hear what Keith has to say.
“I have been watching Brenda very closely for a long time.” Keith shares with the group. “This is exactly how she does things, and it is exactly how she needs to do them for her own process. It is not my process … and it is not yours … but Brenda needs to do it this way.”
Keith goes on to explain that because of my Master’s degree in counseling, and because I am a writer, that I will be a powerful teacher for others. He explains that I need to go deep into the pain from every possible angle, right to the very core. It is part of my learning process … a process that will allow me to understand and to help others.
“This is how Brenda starts a new level,” Keith continues as my ears perk up. “This is how she begins an even more powerful opening … with a painful, tedious, drawn out process of self discovery. Usually, within a day or two after something like this, she opens up another amazing layer of energy and light.”
“I continually monitor this porch for unnecessary trauma-drama.” Keith continues teaching the group. “What Brenda is doing is NOT trauma-drama. Yes, it is dramatic, but it is exactly what needs to happen right now.”
I love hearing Keith’s words. They deeply reassure me that I am OK – giving me permission to continue – to allow more self-love to enter, and to eliminate some of the additional self-hate that ego would pile on to make the process even more difficult. Yes, ego would definitely dump on me, rubbing it in that I am an emotional loser for doing my processing with such dramatics.
Bring In The Light
Gradually, I arrive at a point where I know I am done with today’s emotional release, yet I know that I am not completely done. In fact the little Jedi voices in my heart whisper that I am just beginning this new level of deep excursion into the unknown.
Slowly, I rearrange my cushions and sit back upright, quickly beginning a self-directed process of asking the higher energies to flood me with loving light from above.
“Bring in the light from Mother Earth.” Keith surprises me.
I try, but feel very little energy flow from below, either through my feet or the root chakra. I understand the importance of what Keith has asked me to do, and I focus intensely. A sense of frustration soon consumes me as I continue to feel a famine of feminine energy from the earthly mother herself.
“Just come from any higher source.” I finally ask the energies. “Please just fill me with light and higher vibrations.”
My hands soon begin to tingle with soothing vibrations as the power switch of my heart chakra again seems to be have been flipped to the “ON” position. It is as if I am on the “Goddesses operating table” – a term that Keith often uses when someone feels as if the energies are working on them, making internal shifts in their field. The sensation is mild, but extremely soothing.
Reassuring Others
After group I remain behind to seek more clarity. For the second time, Keith reassures me that his guidance resonates and is in complete alignment with the process through which I am passing. He again congratulates me for stepping into another level of deep core issues, and doing it in a big-time way.
Both Keith and I are profoundly aware that I am just beginning this new journey. I can only hope that it will be fast and short. This much emotional intensity is overwhelming. But as usual, I will take whatever comes.
I feel as if I want to go home to cry some more … to pursue a deeper release. I am anxious and eager to push forward. I don’t want to delay. I just want to be done.
“Brenda,” Keith makes a request. “Would you please reassure others in your writing that they will most likely not need to go through such an intense path as yours? Let them know that your own learning path is especially difficult because of your need to learn how to help others.”
“Yeah,” I quietly reassure Keith as I exhaustedly begin a slow walk back to my apartment.
Much Needed Sleep
At 7:00 p.m., near the end of a very long Wednesday, I find myself pulling the covers up to my chin as I relax an exhausted head on my pillow. Strangely enough, the emotions have completely settled. There are no more tears to cry.
Even though exhaustion consumes me, I am unable to sleep. A powerful heavy feeling of confusing energy dominates my head, keeping me slightly distracted and agitated.
Recognizing that sleep is not eminent, I embrace meditation as a perfect backup option. The meditation is powerful, significantly lightening the heavy energy in my head, replacing the denser energy with higher-vibration, tingling, and dizziness-inducing energy.
Before I know what happens, the meditation converts into sleep.
Trickles Of Tears
At 5:00 a.m. on Thursday morning, the noise in the nearby basketball court is so loud that sleep is nearly impossible. Some local school youth are practicing for some type of drill-team competition, and it seems they need to play their rap music at performance-class volume in order to practice more effectively.
I simply smile and accept “what is”. By 6:00 a.m., I decide that I will consume a two-thirds dose of chocolate with my morning oatmeal. The little Jedi voices inside are telling me that now is no time to rest – that now is the time to get on with exposing those inner emotional densities.
As I arrive at Keith’s porch for 7:00 a.m. meditation, I am slightly confused, primed and ready to go wherever the chocolate spirit might lead.
“How are you doing?” Keith asks me with a smile.
“I’m not sure.” I reply. “I may be crying today, and I may be bringing in the light. I am deep in a confusing process, and the destination is not at all clear.”
Even as I speak these words to Keith, small teardrops begin to form in the corners of each eye.
And The Tears Win
When I begin meditation, I immediately focus on bringing in more high-vibration energies – more light.
As I do so, while focusing on deep rhythmic breathing, my solar plexus suddenly returns to a state of intense yes/no fear-filled shaking while intense tears struggle to burst out of my eyes. I struggle to push them back in.
“I guess I’m doing emotional release this morning.” I finally concede.
Still Disgusting
I again feel determined to bring in more light, somehow hoping that the higher energies will diffuse the tearful emotional uprising – but again the higher-dimensional energies only seem to intensify the emotional process.
Internal guidance immediately reminds me to ask for help. As I connect with my dear little inner child, she grabs my hand and takes me back down a flight of stairs, leading me right back into the inner-temple room – a room that continues to be filled with disgusting human waste.
As before, I connect with Higher Self and ask for another work-crew of angels to be organized to come and clean.
“Why else would I be here again?” I ponder.
Again I imagine a room full of angels, dancing and singing as they clean up the disgusting waste from the walls of my inner temple – but this process only serves to bring up even deeper tears combined with “I don’t deserve” emotions. Try as I might, the room does not seem to get any cleaner – yet I do indeed feel the angel’s energetic presence of love, excitement, and willingness to help.
A thought crosses my mind. “Is this room filled with human waste, or could it be chocolate?”
Sadly enough, my intuition reassures me that it is indeed disgusting waste.
I repeatedly bring in more love and light, again asking Higher Self for guidance, over and over asking little Sharon to connect and to help. Every time, she guides me right back into that disgusting room – my own inner temple covered with human waste.
Disgusting Memories
“I guess I have to go deeper into this.” I finally succumb.
For another thirty minutes, I relive memory after memory of teenage struggles – struggles related to gender explorations – struggles that always left me with even more self-disgust, even more self-hatred.
“I hate myself … I am disgusting.”
I cannot seem to shake these overwhelming emotions. They stick to me like a powerful unbreakable bond.
I imagine myself shouting back at these voices, telling them how wrong they are, defending myself against these unfounded accusations – but these imaginary conversations go nowhere. The voices continue to overwhelm me.
Finally, after reliving these painful memories again and again, I start to feel a glimmer of love for that young teenage boy who struggled so deeply – a boy trying so hard to fill himself with light and love, so confused by the gender and sexual confusions that raged inside his innocent little mind, not having another living soul to talk to, being so lost and alone, having such a pure mind and a genuine heart. He was so loving, trying so desperately to conform to the wishes of his parents, his religion, and his culture.
In spite of my efforts, the tears continue to flow; the unbelievable energy of self-hatred persists, ever more strongly.
Meditation Interrupted
“How are you doing?” Keith unexpectedly interrupts meditation at about the half-way point in our ninety-minute session.
“Bring in the light.” Keith guides me after I briefly fill him on my intense saga. These are the only words of advice that he gives during the entire meditation. I am completely on my own with this one.
Again I focus on bringing in higher-dimension, loving energies. Again I begin to cry even more intensely as emotions of unworthiness, I-don’t-deserve, and sadness flood my heart and mind.
You Don’t Have To Live Here
Finally I recall a metaphor that Keith shared in the first session with my Sun Course, clear back in July of 2010.
In this metaphor, Keith described a rundown living quarters filled with cockroaches, surrounded by a neighborhood overflowing with drug dealers, gang violence, and crime.
“You don’t have to live there to clean it up.” Keith had told my friend. “You can first move to a higher-vibration energy state. Once in your new home, you can clean up the mess from a place of greater clarity and awareness.”
I suddenly recognize that I am stuck in a very low-energy place – that I have now felt it to the very bottom. I believe myself to have learned my lessons. I deeply understand the self-hatred and I feel its profound power. I have ground my face in the sand long enough. It is time to get up on the surf board and get on top of the rolling waves of divine energy.
The Reality Of Love
I try and try, but my efforts to move to a higher place seem in vain.
“I am simply observing The Muppet Show.” I remind myself over and over again. “I am in a nightmare. None of this is real. This is merely energy from the past that still lives inside of me. It is only memories, memories that are nothing but energy. It is time to wake up from this dream.”
I again go into the metaphors of the movie “Inception.” Repeatedly, I remind myself that I am only dreaming, lost in a lower-energy world, a world that continues to live inside of me, a world with unbelievable power.
Finally, after repeated struggles and intense effort, I feel myself successfully returning to the present-day reality of unconditional love.
A Fire Hose
Once back in a place of loving empowerment, I again beg Higher Self and Sharon for some energetic assistance.
Quite soon, I am hooking up an imaginary fire hose to my tummy, visualizing those hate-filled emotions flowing out of my abdomen, through the hose, and out to the angels who will transmute the dense energies back into light.
Next, I ask these disgusting energies to filter through my own heart, feeling as if my own self-love should be the first energy to touch them. But as I experience the energy flow through my heart chakra, I begin to feel considerable pain and prickly-ness. Deciding that this is too much for me to handle right now, I make a compromise, asking the angels to directly take anything that I am unable to handle.
Gradually I ask the higher energies to crank up the volume to maximum capacity and speed. I sit in this beautiful meditative state for the remainder of our Thursday morning meditation. I imagine the angels moving the bottom of the hose around in my inner temple, sucking up every last piece of that inner waste, joyfully assisting in my process.
I again attempt to visualize my inner temple as being clean and sparkling … but to my dismay, I continue to sense that it remains coated with disgusting waste.
“Perhaps it just needs a good scrubbing now?” I begin to reassure myself. “After all, I did feel considerable quantities of dense energy flowing out of me.”
Making It Up?
“How are you doing?” Keith again asks as meditation ends.
I briefly share the main details of my powerful meditative journey.
“I often feel as if I am just making it all up.” I then confess to Keith.
“But it feels true … like something energetically real is actually happening.” I add. “I know I just need to trust myself more – that all will be clear as the results settle in.”
Always when I simply allow myself to trust – when I allow myself to let the process unfold over time – I am repeatedly blown away by the actual power of this inner meditative work.
Today, a little internal voice simply reassures me, “Yes Brenda … continue to trust … what you did today was indeed powerful … give it more time … you will see that everything is perfect.”
Slow Down Brenda
With my mind so frazzled, I cannot even imagine trying to write today so instead I make a quick decision to take a boat trip to Panajachel. I need cash and supplies, and hope to possibly connect with a friend via Skype as well.
But everything seems to frustrate my intentions. When I arrive in Panajachel I discover that I left my purse in San Marcos. I have no money to pay the boat captain. Luckily I do have my backpack and my debit card. I hurry to the bank, withdraw some much-needed cash, get some change and rush back to the boat before the captain leaves. Twenty minutes later, I am exhausted as I begin walking back into Panajachel.
“Slow down Brenda,” I tell myself as something inside pushes me to run. “Relax and take it easy. You have the whole day ahead of you.”
But for some unexplainable reason, something inside will not slow down. I push myself rapidly to the vegetable market, then to several other western-type grocery stores. A couple of hours later, my backpack is filled with so many food items that my shoulders ache when I attempt to walk.
The pain and a new headache are so intense that I give up on a visit to the internet café. The thought of attempting a Skype call to friends only causes more frustration.
A New Direction
After a long grueling walk back to the boats, my driver seems to putt-putt across the lake at a snail’s pace. Eventually, as I arrive back home, I am so exhausted that the only thing that sounds appealing is a long snooze in the neighbor’s hammock. The adjacent apartment is empty and the hammock and deck are quite inviting.
I almost giggle as I attempt to maneuver my way into the hammock with a warm blanket wrapped tightly around my body. To my shock, I get half-way into it when the mesh maze suddenly twists sideways. A fraction of a second later, I am on the wooden deck with a painful carpet-burn-like scrape on my right elbow.
“I guess that option is out” I giggle as I head straight for bed, not even grabbing lunch. I am just too exhausted to do anything else. I have to rest.
An Amazing Meditation
As my head hits the pillow, a little voice whispers silently, “Now sit up on your pillow and meditate.”
“Huh” I think to myself. “I’m achy and exhausted. I don’t want to meditate. I can’t meditate.”
“Sit up and meditate.” The feeling repeats itself over and over.
Finally I surrender, pile two pillows in the center of my bed, and cross my legs beneath me. To my amazement, I sit cross-legged, with no back support, meditating for three full hours. I barely move my legs just a couple of times during the entire process.
“Pain is resistance.” The voices whisper in my head. “Push your way through the pain. Bring in the higher energies to transmute the pain.”
To my shock and delight, it works. When I feel pain, and I do initially feel a considerable amount, especially in my back, I simply imagine high-vibration healing energies flowing in and through the pain, seeing the sharp aches as nothing but emotional densities that can be released to the angels.
At 5:00 p.m. I opt to lie down, continuing my meditations for an additional hour and a half. The energy flow in my body is amazing, unbelievable. My hands vibrate like they have never vibrated before. Every pain simply melts and fades away. I initially feel considerable resistance in both my solar plexus and my heart chakras, but eventually, as I lovingly and gently move through that resistance, my entire body vibrates with delightful energy.
Over time, I feel long-forgotten energy stability returning to my lower four chakras – as if long-rejected parts of my energy field are beginning to return.
By 6:30 p.m., four and a half hours after beginning my reluctant meditation, I finally decide that it is time to stop – time to eat – time to actually get some very much needed sleep.
“Thank you Universe for getting me to go to bed at 2:00 p.m. so that I would meditate.” I giggle to myself as I finally drift off to sleep.
Double Stings
“There’s something crawling on my left shoulder,” I suddenly realize as I awaken from what was actually a very deep sleep.
I am sleeping on my right side, with my shoulder exposed above me. With automatic reflex movements, I instinctively lift my right hand from the sheet and swat at the unknown little creature that dares to invade my private space.
Suddenly something unseen falls onto the dark bed beside my right elbow.
Instantly I experience a stinging pain, as if someone just injected a hypodermic needle filled with fire directly into my right arm – on the back side just above the elbow. Milliseconds later I also feel the same excruciating pain on the outer side of my left shoulder.
“I have just been stung twice by the same scorpion.” I suddenly realize.
What To Do?
In sheer panic I leap from my bed to find the light switch; both of my arms are now throbbing with intense pain. For some strange reason, the first thing I do is look at the clock. It reads exactly 11:30 p.m..
I search and search my room, finding absolutely nothing. Carefully I remove my blanket, fold it up, and place it in the adjacent bedroom. Next, I remove the top sheet and also fold it up too. Still nothing!
Realizing that the stealth invader has disappeared from the radar, I give up my search. I have something much more pressing to deal with – the pain and fear associated with two quick-succession scorpion stings.
I have no idea as to the severity of my throbbing wounds – as to the danger of scorpion venom in Guatemala. My first thought is to rush over to Keith’s home to wake him up, to ask for help and advice. But first I decide to get online and check the internet.
Spiritual Message
To my surprise and delight, one of my Guatemala friends – a friend who just happened to be stung by a scorpion on her finger last week – a friend who is currently in New York on a short trip – just happens to be awake and on Facebook at 2:00 a.m. eastern time.
“Scorpion stings in Guatemala are not deadly,” my friend immediately reassures me, “and scorpions bring a powerful spiritual message of change and transformation.”
I too have a strong energetic feeling telling me that the two stings, one on each arm, are indeed a spiritual message.
After posting a very upbeat status message on Facebook, I set out to find ways to be positive – ways to look for the buried treasure in the whole experience. After all, it has already happened. There is absolutely nothing I can do about that fact, but I do have complete creative freedom in how I choose to respond.
All Is My Creation
The severe pain only lasts about two hours, but the toxins that quickly spread create little painful areas in my chest and abdomen – plus my throat is scratchy and my lips began to feel as if I were just coming home from the dentist, tingling like they are just starting to wake up from anesthesia.
But the energy in my body is amazing. Not only am I alive with spiritual energies, but the toxins of the scorpion facilitate an additional high. I feel vibrations throughout my entire body, as if I am about to float away into another dimension.
Finally, after still finding no hiding scorpions, I get the courage to replace the sheet and blanket on my bed at around 2:00 a.m.. Understandably, I am still quite nervous about potential creepy crawlies as I cautiously slip under my covers, not quite sure what to expect.
But I also glow with trust that all is exactly as I created it; after all, I do believe that I create my reality.
The Adventure
At 4:00 a.m. on Friday morning, the dancing youth crank up the speakers in the basketball court.
“It looks like I only get a couple of hours of sleep tonight.” I tell myself exhaustedly, of course realizing that I did in fact get nearly three hours before the scorpion first stung me.
I actually decide to go to 7:00 a.m. meditation on Keith’s porch. I am distracted, and beginning to recognize myself in a small ego-loop – observing one part of myself wish it had more love and sympathy from friends, feeling all alone and resenting that it needs to be strong.
I simply observe this part of me, again working on “Know thyself.” I am fine right now, and I will continue to be fine. In fact, I am actually quite excited about the adventure of it all.
Meditative Bliss Revisited
After a quick breakfast I simply do not feel like writing. Nope, it is not going to happen. No, I don’t feel sick, but I am wired, my whole body continues to vibrate, and my lips are still tingly. I know I will simply not be able to concentrate.
Feeling deeply exhausted, I quickly go to bed with intentions of taking a nap – but as with yesterday afternoon, the little Jedi voices in my head will not let me get away with that trick.
“Sit up and meditate again.” The voices insist.
I soon comply with that inner guidance, still knowing that resistance is futile.
For an hour and a half, I enter another meditative bliss – experiencing beautiful energy while pondering on the intuitive words of a friend from back home.
An Inspired Message
Upon returning from early morning meditation, I had been pleased to discover that my friend Mont, a beautiful man and an incredible crystal healer, sent me a message. I loved his words:
“Wow! That is an interesting experience to be sure! I’m getting that your ‘visitor’ is showing you an emotional, elusive pain that leaves a physical mark. Something you are going to ‘dig deep’ to find. But once you do, it will be painfully obvious and easily removed. Look for a hard shell (defense) pinchers (grasp/hold) multiple legs (to evade) and a stinger (to get attention). Sounds like a fun session! Here’s a hint: in your session, become one with the scorpion and look at your history together from his/her perspective.”
Meditative Insights
As I meditate on Mont’s message, pondering just what the “emotional and elusive pain” might be, it suddenly becomes quite clear to me that my self-hatred is deeply emotional and that it has been extremely elusive throughout my life.
Almost instantly, another intuitive thought flashes into my mind, telling me that all of the physical densities in my body – the sore back, shoulders, jaw, joints, and muscles – are nothing but dense energy dispersed and hidden through my body.
“Of course,” I think to myself, “that inner temple covered by human waste is my body itself – and the disgusting waste that will not go away is all of that elusive self-hatred.”
For the remainder of this delightful meditation, I go deeper and deeper into the wonderful world of energy, beginning to stretch and send loving energies throughout the tight, constricted areas of my body, determined to send love to every area that hurts.
The meditation seems to be working amazingly well. Shortly before 11:30 a.m., however, I decide to continue the meditation lying down, recognizing that I can more thoroughly relax the densities if I am reclining.
I feel so alive, so filled with loving energy. Eagerly I lay my head back on the pillow as I stretch my bare legs down toward the end of my bed, letting them drop lightly onto the top of a little red woolen blanket.
Stinging Times Three
“OUCH!” I exclaim as I feel another hypodermic needle-filled-with-fire pierce my skin, this one entering the muscle of my left leg on the back side, just above my knee..
Immediately retracting my legs, I jump out of bed, race for the light switch, and spy the ugly and repulsive culprit still hiding under a wrinkled fold of the blanket. I again glance quickly at the clock. To my shock, it is exactly 11:30 a.m..
“Hmm,” I pause briefly. “There is that same number again … three stings, and all of them at 11:30. I wonder what that means?”
As I quickly return to focus on my perpetrator, I am quite shocked. He is much bigger and much more haunting than I expected – having a body about 1.25 inches in length with pinchers that stick another inch out in front, and a long stinger-terminated curved tail that stretches about two additional inches to the back.
Seconds later, the little bugger is safely caged in a large kitchen glass.
A Scorpion Saga
The rest is another very long story … a story that will be told some other day. Suffice it to say that this third sting turns out to be the most painful of all.
Friday afternoon through Monday morning evolve into an incredible and intensified journey of self healing – a journey that brings profound insights into the self-hatred, deeper explorations into ego, and some much needed self-love and physical rest. With profound confidence and trust, I believe that each of these painful-but-powerful stings was a necessary part of my journey, and I am indeed grateful for it all.
Today I am finally feeling capable of resuming my writing as I take a momentary leap forward in time to share a glimpse of these current experiences.
Provided that nothing else slows me down, I plan to resume my intense writing marathon tomorrow. Sorry, but you will have to wait for the rest of the scorpion saga. Beginning in the morning I will return back in time, continuing from where I last left off.
I am indeed truly grateful for this six-day interlude in my writing – a very painful but amazing scorpion saga.
Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved