Trepidation and hesitation sit on the daybed surrounding me. As I attempt to write today, a feeling of cloudiness clogs my mind, taunting me, predicting that I will fail, cruelly reminding me that there is no way I can capture what I wish to convey in a concise, loving, and helpful manner.
I face a very difficult task.
Friday, April 15 was one of these extremely traumatic days – a day of near-emotional meltdown in which I sank into a state of such confusion and memory lapse that even to this day I am not quite certain what really took place on that crazy afternoon. Even scarier is the thought of reopening the lid to those chaotic emotions; for in the past two days I have come to realize that what happened that day continues to push fearful emotional triggers.
“What will happen if I go back down in there to write about this?” A very real part of me panics. “Will I get stuck in there? Might there still be other scorpions hiding in those scary depths, just waiting to creep up and sting me when I least expect it?”
Of course I have to share the story through my own eyes – through the perceptions of what became a frightened little child who regressed into a very deep state of attack, defensiveness, and confusion – a cornered little child that desperately just wanted to be heard and understood.
But I must also attempt to capture the story through the eyes of others – through the eyes of Keith and a couple of friends who shared space with me on that magical porch nearly six weeks ago. Their memories vary considerably from my own, causing me to seriously question the truth of my reality – causing me to seriously question my own perceptual sanity.
And now, we journey back six weeks in time, to a porch long long ago …
Goodbye To Joy
That beautiful Friday in the middle of April begins quite innocently, with a 7:00 a.m. walk to the dock, accompanying my dear friend Joy as she boards a morning boat to Panajachel. She too is saying goodbye, flying home to resume her other life. I will love being alone again – having the time to write without interruptions, but I will also deeply miss the companionship of someone whom I have grown to love.
I love you Joy!
A Detached Observer
As it always continues to astound me, the people who show up on Keith’s porch for the Friday afternoon ceremony seem to have been personally handpicked by my Higher Self. It is a very small group – three casual male friends plus me, and then Keith of course.
As occasionally happens, this is one of those days where the first ninety minutes of group becomes consumed by what my rational-mind wants to classify as ‘wasted conversation’, with the last half of that conversation focusing on various aspects of channeling as seen from a left-brain perspective.
Silently, I observe a rising state of inner frustration while at the same time I lovingly question why I might be creating such a reality.
Setting The Tone
Finally, at shortly before 2:00 p.m., Keith shifts gears.
“Brenda, how are you doing?” Keith turns first to me.
“I’m just watching myself, feeling a lot of painful density in my abdomen, wondering why I might be creating such a long drawn-out discussion about channeling.” I respond. “Perhaps I wanted to learn more about it from an intellectual angle.”
“Gee, Brenda,” Keith adds with a strange grin. “I wonder why we are doing so much talking today.”
In retrospect, this initial delay is meaningless in content, but it sets the stage in very powerful way.
Because of my desire to understand how I create my own reality, I enter the heart of the ceremony with a deeply curious mind – a mind that is fully focused on the concept that everything taking place on this porch is created and designed by me – designed to trigger and heal in ways that I could never possibly plan at a conscious level.
The Process Begins
“My abdomen is really stirred up again.” I explain to Keith after my initial comments. “I would really love to figure out this ongoing metaphor.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if this is just some physical reaction from the chocolate.” I momentarily speculate. “It has been consistently happening for a very long time now. How could so much emotional pain continue to remain in my lower chakras, even after all the tears I have shed this week?
“But I know in my heart that it is emotional and not physical pain.” I continue sharing with Keith. “Perhaps I simply need to discount and ignore the pain, refusing to entertain these silly doubts.”
“No Brenda,” Keith interrupts quite forcefully. “Do not ignore the pain!”
I note that Keith’s manner is almost harsh and uncharacteristically pushy and challenging. In fact I am quite shocked by the force of his response. To me it feels almost bullying and confrontational. After dismissing my initial reaction of shock, I immediately recognize that Keith must be following my energy, and that he is about to teach me something very powerful.
The flip side, however, is that I quickly sink into and get deeply lost in the subsequent process that gradually unfolds as Keith begins to talk.
An Innocent Request
I am listening and literally hear every word, yet I honestly cannot remember what Keith just barely told me. I am so shocked by his tone and delivery, and so caught up in my sudden and delightful realization that he is simply following my energy, that the actual content of his message has completely evaporated from my mind. Every single word is mysteriously missing from my memory.
“Could you please repeat what you just said?” I ask innocently.
“Why are you being so resistant, Brenda?” Keith dismisses my harmless request for clarification.
“I’m just asking you to repeat what you just told me.” I again beg. “I honestly can’t remember what it was.”
Keith then unleashes a barrage of what I perceive as ranting and criticism, saying things like: “Why are you so stuck in your head?” … “You heard me the first time, why are you refusing to cooperate?” … “Quit interrupting me Brenda and just hear me out.” … and “Why are you arguing with me?
I attempt to respond to each statement – to simply restate my innocent intentions – to defend my honor – to beg for him to listen to what I am really trying to ask – to plead for a chance to be heard and understood.
Yet Keith interrupts and cuts me off forcefully at every turn, continuing to sternly lean toward my face, confronting me, seemingly twisting my every statement into the opposite of what I am trying to say without allowing me to defend or explain.
In a matter of a minute or two, I have unexpectedly slipped from a state of empowered clarity into one of deep shock, defensiveness, and confusion.
Crazy-Making
“Why is he chiding me?” I struggle silently, feeling helpless and beaten down. “I feel as if he is manipulating me … confusing everything I say … discounting my feelings … and making me feel crazy.”
With all of my heart, I know I am innocent. My original request for Keith to simply repeat what he had said was genuine and simple. I just want the opportunity to explain myself, to be heard, to be understood, and to be respected. Instead I am being scolded and verbally abused.
“I know I don’t deserve any of this.” I think to myself. “Yet Keith does seem to be urgently and deeply concerned about me – desperately trying to get his message through to me – desperately and forcefully attempting to get me to see the light as he sees it.
There must be something I am missing, some reason he is doing this, something critical going on inside of me to which I am turning a blind and confused eye. After all, Keith is my teacher and my friend. I trust him with my life. He would never hurt me. He has my best interest at heart … at least I believe that he does. It must be ME that is somehow wrong.
I feel as if I am going insane, being made out to be crazy. Nothing makes any sense whatsoever.
Finally I simply lower my tear-filled face and submit to Keith’s authority.
“He must have a reason for what he is doing.” I again console myself.
A Buried Pattern
As soon as I submit and surrender, finally giving up in all attempts at being understood, Keith unexpectedly starts in a new direction.
“Brenda, you have emptied some deeply intense containers of emotional density lately,” Keith begins to guide me, “and those containers shocked you at their pain and power.”
“What you are feeling in your belly now, however, is NOT another container.” Keith continues. “Instead, it is the current pattern that you run that created these containers in the first place – a pattern of ignoring and then pushing down all of this painful density, and of then putting a lid on top to bottle it up.”
“Today we are not going to release another container,” Keith surprises me again. “We are going to work on the pattern that created and continues to create all of these containers, even now. That is why you have built up so many containers over the decades. This pattern that was established as a child is still in operation and needs to be discovered, uprooted, and released.”
Keith goes on to explain that I have a lifelong pattern of using confusion and not hearing things, of not being able to understand things, and of creating a diversion of tearfully shutting down so that I can avoid reality and things that I cannot deal with.
An Informational Flashback
Almost immediately a memory flashes into my mind – a memory from around 2001 – a memory from a time in my post-transition life where everything around me seemed to be emotionally crumbling. I was a dedicated volunteer at a local hospital – working not only at the information desk but also as the secretary to the volunteer board. My busy life was stretched in countless different directions. One day the volunteer director came to me and asked if she could train me on a simple new procedure to register hospital patrons in a series of classes.
To my shock, rather than smiling and saying “yes”, I instead broke down in tears as if in a nervous breakdown. I had so much pain and confusion going on in my life that the thought of one more responsibility pushed me into complete shutdown. I could not deal with anything else, even something so simple.
As I ponder further, I remember countless other times in my life where new responsibility and information was met with confusion, emotion, avoidance, and forgetfulness.
Confusing Manipulative Chaos
Keith begins to guide me into a meditation – a very familiar meditation designed to take me deeper into the subconscious realms. I have done this many times before, but the experience today feels annoyingly different.
In my perception, Keith talks loudly and nonstop, not giving me any time in which to calm my mind and actually complete the meditation.
When Keith finally finishes guiding me down a flight of stairs, along a hallway, and up to a door, I feel as if I am barely on the first few steps of the staircase. I am in such a state of shutdown that I cannot even visualize myself walking down a flight of stairs.
“Keith, I feel like you were talking and repeating so many statements so loudly that I couldn’t concentrate or follow you.” I confess, feeling stupid for my admission.
“Brenda,” Keith emphasizes lovingly but firmly, “I guided the meditation today exactly as I always do it … there was nothing different.”
My mind is frazzled and confused. I trust Keith’s reassurance – and he later tells me the same thing several more times – but in that moment the only reality I can see is one of confusing manipulative chaos.
The Third Step
“How are you doing Brenda?” Keith again asks me after giving me another minute or two to meditate in silence.
“I’m still trying to walk further down the steps,” I reply with doubt and frustration, “but I feel as if I am not going anywhere, and am totally unable to focus and concentrate, unable to trust myself.”
“Go back up to the top and just walk down a few steps at a time.” Keith lovingly coaches me.
I follow Keith’s instructions and imagine myself going down three steps before encountering a feeling of intense fear and emotional shutdown.
“Stop right there and simply feel where you are at.” Keith patiently guides.
Emotions swell inside. I begin to whimper, desperately wishing I could cry harder. Deep fear consumes me as the gut-wrenching sobs suddenly burst forth, accompanied by intense nausea and a repeat of dry-heaves.
This panic and emotion is crazy, indescribable, and unexplainable. It comes in waves, increasing and decreasing in intensity.
“When I begin to calm myself I am fine,” I explain to Keith. “But as soon as I attempt to bring in the higher energies I start to hit this intense emotion every …”
“Stop!” Keith interrupts me abruptly.
“Stop trying to calm yourself.” Keith guides me with love. “Go into the emotion and feel it. Talk about your progress as you do it.
For nearly forty-five minutes I do nothing but sit on that imaginary third step, in and out of emotional waves, talking through each intense burst of emotion and fear.
Bottomless Staircase
Finally, I get the courage to attempt another step down the imaginary staircase. But each time that I try, a feeling of absolute panic consumes me, causing me to stop and cry some more while still on the third step.
“I think I am afraid of what I might find,” I tell Keith after pondering for a few minutes. “I’m afraid that I might find out that my whole life has been a lie, based on untruths “
Finally I imagine my little inner child Sharon grabbing my right hand, with my Higher Self taking my left, supporting me with their love and higher energies, giving me the courage to go on.
Repeatedly we take a few more steps down and then pause. Confusion and doubt again begin to consume me as I realize that there seems to be no bottom to this flight of stairs. As I continuously search for the hallway that will take me to the next part of the meditation, the only thing I can feel is more steps headed downward.
Through it all, Keith continues to be patient and supportive, quietly waiting for me to complete what he describes as a trust-building process.
Floating Hallway
“I finally feel myself in the hallway.” I happily tell Keith. “But as I start to walk down it, I feel as if am floating along instead.”
I am so immersed in bewildering doubt and rational mind that I am deeply confused, struggling to believe my intuitions, not trusting anything that is taking place. Ego is desperately taunting me, telling me that this entire meditation is a huge joke, a figment of my imagination.
One thing is absolutely certain. If I were doing this meditation by myself, without Keith’s guidance, I would have given up long ago, walking away and throwing up my hands in distrust, disgust, and frustration. I never would have even made it to the third step.
Finally, I intuitively sense that Sharon, my Higher Self, and I are standing in front of a doorway.
“I think I am finally at the door.” I tell Keith with relief, still doubting myself.
Container Farm
As I step through the imaginary door with Higher Self and Sharon, I initially feel a state of absolute nothingness.
“Well,” Keith inquires, “What do you find or see inside?”
Finally, I feel as if I am standing by a huge white container of emotional density. A submarine-like hatch remains closed on the top.
“As I look around further,” I exclaim to Keith, “I suddenly feel the presence of hundreds if not thousands of such containers arranged in a huge geometric array all around me.”
I am terrified by the thought that these containers could each be filled with an unlimited supply of unreleased emotional density. Even the idea of opening just one of the containers brings a feeling of sheer terror.
Job Well Done
Imagine my surprise when I finally find the courage to turn the wheel and open the hatch. Inside is nothing but a large empty container with white walls. Quickly I open another, and another with the same peaceful result. The next one contains a small stone in the corner.
“Transmute the stone.” Keith quickly guides me.
“I can’t seem to do it.” I respond, after trying for a minute or two. “No matter what I do, it feels as if it is still there.”
“Then give it to your Higher Self.” Keith continues. “What happens to it now?”
“It simply dissolves into nothingness.” I respond with a grin.
“Open all of the rest of the containers and magically have their contents pile up in front of you.” Keith goes on. “What is there?”
“Very little,” I respond with great relief, “not much at all. I get the feeling that I have already successfully released most, if not all, of the stuff in these visible containers. I also feel as if the Universe is congratulating me on a job well done.”
“Now transmute all of the containers themselves.” Keith guides me.
A few minutes later, I feel as if this entire array of mostly-empty containers has vanished. It is only later when I realize that this container farm was here to receive new density that has not yet been stored away.
“It looks as if my fears about these containers were all for nothing.” I conclude happily.
Shutting Down … Big Time
Again, I feel extremely doubtful and confused, as if this is all totally stupid and fabricated with my mind, as if I am making it all up with wishful thinking and that it is all merely childish fantasy.
In that same instant, I feel as if I am beginning to shut down energetically – as if all of the power of my heart is being sucked out of me.
“Brenda, is your little girl still there?” Keith quickly inquires.
“Yes,” I reply.
“Connect with her, NOW!” Keith coaches me. “What is happening?”
“I feel her feeding me with divine energy.” I reply weakly, still struggling to not shut down completely.
“Where is the energy going?” Keith follows up.
“To my heart … but then it weakens and simply stops,” I reply, feeling exhausted.
“Brenda, connect with her again!” Keith guides me with a sense of urgency.
I feel her beginning to fill up my heart, but the energy again fizzles.
“Brenda, where is your Higher Self?” Keith asks with a tone of urgency. “Connect with it … what is happening?”
Again, I feel a little more energy on my left side and some in my head, but it begins to fizzle and fade away. No matter how much I attempt to focus, I cannot maintain these divine connections … I am fading away and drifting.
“Connect again.” Keith orders me. “What is happening?”
I feel a little energy trying to flow in my neck, but it is not lasting.
“Brenda, you are shutting down.” Keith proclaims. “Bring in more light. This is exactly what you do when you get so confused and you don’t trust yourself. You shut down and disconnect from the energies … now bring in more light … bring in more energy from Sharon and your Higher Self.”
Sinking in Futility
“It all feels so futile.” I explain through tear-filled eyes.
“Where is the futility that is stopping you located?” Keith again follows up.
“It is in my tummy.”
“Where is the futility?” Keith pushes.
“I can’t tell; but it kind of feels like it must be in my tummy.”
“Where is it?” Keith again digs deeper.
I ponder for a few minutes before I finally experience a sharp pain in my heart.
“It is in my heart.” I finally answer with more clarity.
“Now you are getting somewhere.” Keith responds happily.
Surrender To The Futility
I sidestep in and out of this futile feeling for what must be at least twenty minutes. Deep helplessness consumes me as I repeatedly attempt to bring in more light, only to sink back into a feeling of helpless futility.
Back and forth, I try and then give up, repeatedly beginning to feel a glimmer of hope only to sink back into emptiness. I am totally out of control.
“What will your Higher Self do if you surrender to this futility?” Keith inquires.
“My Higher Self will love me and allow me to come back and do it all over again in another lifetime.” I respond with clarity.
“What will Higher Self do?” Keith again asks.
“Support me in whatever I do.” I reply again with confidence.
“Surrender to the futility.” Keith gives me bizarre guidance. “Go ahead and shut down, lose yourself in the shutdown.”
“I don’t want to.” I respond quickly.
“I am trying to understand if you are serious about me doing this,” I continue after a minute of pondering about Keith’s bizarre behavior, “or if you are playing devil’s advocate, trying to push me with reverse psychology.”
“Do you really want me to surrender and shut down?” I ask with deep confusion.
Keith snaps sharply at me, telling me to quit questioning him with my mind and to just do what he asks. I am shocked that he suddenly seems to have shifted back into a strong manipulation and domineering control mode.
Continued Craziness
“I’m just trying to understand what you want me to do so I can better follow your directions.” I respond feebly, feeling even more confused.
“Quit trying to understand!” Keith barks at me. “Just do it.”
I perceive his tone as being deeply frustrated, and I again enter an even deeper state of shutdown. His crazy-making is really making me think I actually am crazy.
I try to comply with Keith’s wishes, but they make no sense. Each time I attempt to seek clarification, he again interrupts me, accusing me of arguing and being uncooperative.
His treatment of me feels brutal, manipulative, and controlling. It makes no sense to me at all. I desperately wish to follow his guidance, but I first desire clarity. However, any attempt to ask for clarification results in further confusion and despair.
Lectures In Arguing
Finally, I again just surrender, close my eyes, ignore Keith’s advice telling me to lose myself in the shutdown, and instead desperately attempt to bring in the light – begging the higher energies to fill my confused and exhausted body.
For fifteen minutes I sit in silence, feeling empty and shutdown while meditating in futility. Keith moves and sits in front of a nearby friend, as if he is about to move on to work with someone else. Then he suddenly looks back and engages me again in what feels highly confrontational.
Quickly moving back into his own chair, Keith proceeds to lecture me, telling me how he has been trying to work with me for a very long time, but that I am simply arguing with him – arguing with his guidance – arguing when he asks me to simply shut down – arguing when he asks me to bring in the light to move beyond the futility.
“You are choosing the futility because that is where you want to be, blah, blah, blah” Keith goes on.
With a deeply frazzled mind, I feel as if I can only remember a small fraction of what Keith tells me – but I profoundly remember the emotions. I am being bombarded by manipulative, controlling, condescending, logic-twisting, unfounded accusations – and I am helpless, unable to be heard, completely misunderstood, hopeless at ever having the chance to explain myself.
One Futile Thought
Giving up to the confusion, I simply surrender again, no longer asking questions, sinking further into submissiveness.
“I know Keith has something up his sleeve.” I whimper silently through muffled tears of confusion. “I desperately hope he is not really serious about all of this.”
“Perhaps I will just leave the porch and never come back.” One futile thought passes through my mind with great persuasive force.
Manipulative Badgering
“Connect with your inner child,” Keith soon begins in a serious voice, “and ask her if you as a child had a pattern of using confusion, not remembering, and shutting down in futility as a means of stuffing things down and not dealing with issues.”
I am so numb that I feel absolutely nothing, no intuitive senses whatsoever. I feel so beaten down that the only thing I desire to do is to please Keith so that maybe he will get off my back.
“Yes,” I respond feebly, not really believing the answer I provide, simply telling Keith what I believe he wants to hear.
“Do you as an adult have this same pattern of doing this and getting so confused that you cannot function?” Keith continues prodding me in a way that I perceive as pushy and forceful.
“Can you please clarify the question?” I beg as confusion literally overwhelms my mind. “I don’t quite understand.”
“The question is very simple Brenda.” Keith replies in what I interpret as being a very mean tone. “Why are you being so resistant and uncooperative? Just answer the question!”
“Can you just please repeat the question?” I ask again humbly. “I honestly can’t quite remember what or how you asked it.”
“Just answer the question.” Keith sternly pushes back. “It is very simple.”
“Please,” I beg Keith, “I am trying to cooperate with you, but I honestly am so confused that I don’t understand and I just want a little clarification.”
“Ask your inner child if you as an adult have this pattern that causes such dysfunctional ignoring and stuffing of new emotional density into receptacles.” Keith finally responds with a tone that feels deeply impatient.
“Oh,” I respond with confusion, “I thought you were asking me if I had this problem …”
“It was obvious that I was asking you to ask your inner child.” Keith retorts sternly.
“Yes, my inner child says that I do.” I respond with zero confidence.
I honestly cannot feel any intuition whatsoever, but respond only because I feel bullied into complying with Keith’s demands and I want to get him off my case. Besides, it only makes sense that since I am actually struggling, confused, and shutdown right now, that I must actually still fall into this behavior. Again I flash back to several additional shutdown memories as an adult – memories of being overwhelmed and confused, simply giving up in frustration – memories of being unable to hold anything else in my head, going numb and blocking out the world in order to survive.
Going Through The Motions
Keith proceeds to give several more questions for me to ask my inner child. With each question, I struggle with deep confusion as I merely attempt to understand the wording of his questions. Either he is intentionally mixing his words up in very confusing ways, or I am a total basket case.
Feeling crazy and numb, I continue attempting to cooperate and respond, but I am only going through the motions, simply making up answers that I believe Keith might want to hear. I no longer have the strength or will to even try to be real and genuine.
Beginnings Of Clarity
As Keith ends his barrage, I sit numbly on my pillow, confused and in shock. I am deeply frustrated, feeling unreasonably attacked, massively misunderstood, shutdown, and empty inside.
Yet I refuse to strike back in defensive anger and resistance, still trusting that what has happened on the porch today must be some type of peculiar stage play.
I understand absolutely nothing – but I continue to trust Keith with my life. I know there must be some good and loving reason for what just happened, some logic and reason to his bizarre treatment.
Finally, I simply close my eyes and focus on bringing in more light. Over time, I gradually begin to feel glimmers of higher energies vibrating weakly here and there in my body. Slowly, ever so slowly, the energies begin to intensify – just enough to start filling my heart with a feeling of loving confidence, peace, and clarity.
The evening is late. Keith has briefly gone inside the house to perform a few post-ceremony errands.
The entire session has been consumed by this crazy nightmare, and it seems that two of the others on the porch suddenly have great advice to share with me, trying to boost my spirits with words of rational logic and well-intentioned encouragement.
But to me their words fall flat, reeking with a strong energy of “fixing”. Nothing they say resonates with my heart. Yes, I easily recognize from whence their logic arises, but they are clueless as to the inspired guidance that is barely beginning to blossom inside my heart.
I simply smile and ignore the words of my friends while sinking quietly into further meditation.
The Only Sane One
After a while, Keith briefly returns to the porch and I decide to speak up.
“Keith,” I confidently declare, “I feel like you are crazy-making with me, and that I am the only sane one here.”
“Brenda,” Keith eagerly responds. “Apply that statement to your inner child.”
“Huh?” I question with confusion.
“Apply that statement to mean that your little child was the only sane one,” Keith smiles with excitement, “and that everyone else doing the bombarding, programming, and crazy-making of that child were themselves the insane ones, trying to program the sanity out of the child.”
Programmed With Love
“That little child had a pure and close relationship with the real and genuine Jesus,” Keith again emphasizes.
Keith goes on to explain that everyone else in my life was crazy-making me in order to program me into following their way of thinking – to shut down the childhood magic that was alive inside of me. I finally got so confused, feeling so battered by the powerful opinions, the energy, and the psychic attacks from parents and other trusted adults that I eventually surrendered to the craziness – simply giving up in futility, despair, and hopelessness – no longer having the strength or the will to defend myself.
“You experienced the psychic death of your will and your ability to trust your own feelings.” Keith further explains.
Any and all attempts to explain myself, to defend my version of reality, only resulted in accusations of not cooperating, of me being difficult and argumentative, and of being made wrong. I eventually gave up any efforts to be understood and simply surrendered. What else could a small child do around loving-but-powerful adults?
Yes, what else would any loving and dedicated parent do with a child that fought against such well-intentioned programming? They would do everything in their power to lovingly teach their child just how wrong his or her misunderstood thinking was, and to instead teach the child “correct behaviors and beliefs.”
This is exactly what I did to my own children – I lovingly programmed them to incorporate the cultural and religious beliefs that I personally held at the time.
A Stage Play
“This entire porch today was a stage play designed to recreate a real-life reenactment of that shutdown, wasn’t it?” I look at Keith with an excited glimmer of recognition in my eye.
“You played your role so perfectly.” I exclaim with delight. “You had me feeling so deeply crazy and shutdown.”
I am blown away with ongoing insights.
Today on the porch, I have been given a gift of precious jewels. I was given the gift of actually experiencing, in an extremely real and dramatic way, the real-life trauma of being manipulated, programmed, and controlled by loving and trusted adults. I went through the entire spectrum of experiences – feeling the rebellion, the futility, the hopelessness, and the eventual giving up.
What an amazing education – what an amazing gift!
A Perfect Reenactment
Then the crazy-making continues as Serg and one other gentleman jump into the conversation to validate everything that Keith did during the ceremony.
“Brenda,” one friend tells me, “you literally became an uncooperative child. Your behavior was completely shut down and confused. Keith was giving you loving and clear guidance throughout the ceremony, and you simply could not hear or understand it.
To these two friends, I was the one who was literally crazy. They saw Keith as having treated me kindly – firmly yes, but kindly.
“That is your reality, what you saw in your part of the script,” I tell my friends with determination, “and I do believe that this is exactly what you experienced today.”
“But my reality was entirely different,” I further explain. “It was as if Keith literally were doing everything in his power to drive me crazy and to confront me with unreasonable back-talk, twisting my words back in my face, attacking me with things I did not say. I was fully being disempowered by someone who should have been my guide and my teacher. That is what I saw and fully believe took place in my reality.”
“I believe it was a perfect reenactment of what happened to me as a child, and that I was indeed the only sane one here on the porch today.”
No Way?
At one point in this follow-up conversation, Keith mentions something about a process where he asked me to put my “knowing little girl” in my left hand and to put my “parents’ shutdown stuff” in the other.
“What are you talking about?” I ask with deep confidence. “I have no memory of doing that … that absolutely did not happen!”
Keith grins, nods his head at two of my friends, and asks them to volunteer what they remember. To my dismay, both clearly indicate that the process definitely occurred.
“How could I possibly have been confused so deeply that I would have no memory of something like that?” I ponder intensely. “Do I really shut down so profoundly in such times of confusion?”
Ongoing Defense Mechanisms
Yes, I feel both confused and empowered as I reflect on my understanding of what took place today.
But then Keith helps me out by reminding me that I was deeply triggered – that I did regress powerfully into a profound child-like state, overloaded with confusion, incapable of dealing with even innocent bombardments. He emphasizes that this is a continuing and ongoing problem for me – one that I must resolve before I can successfully work with Higher Self.
Today I acted out my God/separation drama in a big way. I felt totally abandoned again and again by my teacher, accused unfairly, and rejected by God – and I mostly fell for it.
The Universe and Keith gave me a huge gift – the realization that I still react to these old triggers in a major way. These same defense mechanisms that I constructed as a child in a desperate and futile attempt to protect myself do indeed continue to exist.
Yes, I understand this now more profoundly than ever. That little child in me developed some serious defense mechanisms to protect against the bombardment of confusing outside domination and dogma – patterns that kept me safe during my youth, but patterns that sill affect me in now-dysfunctional ways, even to the present day – patterns that cause me not to trust God, my Higher Self, and other teachers – patterns that cause me to overload, to go into confusion, and to go into shutdown mode – patterns that sometimes cause me to isolate and retreat, simply giving up and hiding from responsibility in a desperate attempt to merely cope and survive.
Trusting My Self
Keith again retreats into his kitchen while my friends resume their well-intended advice-giving. I again tune them out and re-enter deep meditation, I am blown away with these new realizations. The words of my friends still do not resonate, and I choose to bask in the glow of divine light rather than to further confuse the issues with well-intentioned statements that do not resonate in my heart.
After about ten minutes, Keith returns to the porch.
“Congratulations on your empowerment.” Keith tells me proudly. “You are trusting your own self and your own energies over the words of others (those of my friends) who simply do not understand the depth of what you are experiencing – who simply do not understand the profound growth through which you just passed.”
“Go home and love that little inner child.” Keith again guides me. “Tell her over and over again how she was the only one who was sane during that shut down process in which she was finally forced to surrender.”
Bedtime Email
It is 6:45 p.m. before I finally leave Keith’s magical porch. The entire ceremony today ended up being focused on this amazing stage play of a crazy reality – and I had the perfect cast to support me.
“Thank you from the bottom of my heart for playing each of your roles so beautifully today,” I tell my friends as I hug each of them, “thank you for doing what you did with such perfection, for doing exactly what I needed in order to relive my shutdown in such a profound way.”
“Brenda,” one young man tells me, “I thought you might never speak to Keith again after today.”
“So did I for a while there.” I giggle.
Later that night, I send a long thank-you email to Keith. Following are a few excerpts:
“… I still don’t remember a lot of the nearly five-hour process, but the insights I do remember were powerful … and you played your authority role perfectly (and as gently as you could) in helping me totally lose and surrender my sanity … just long enough to feel the deep pain before remembering that I was simply creating a reality … and to highlight a pattern that continues today, one that I can now begin to release.”
In Retrospect
As I finish writing for today, I am now totally in the present. It is Thursday evening, May 26, 2011. One of the young men who was with me on the porch during that crazy afternoon six weeks ago just happened to synchronously show up at the chocolate ceremony yesterday. It was the first time he has come in several weeks. When I briefly mentioned what I was going to be writing about today, we ended up having one of those “strange conversation” days on the porch where a great deal of time focused on what happened on April 15.
To my dismay, the more we talked, the more I came to realize how utterly frightened I have been to go back and write about that day – fearful that I have never actually addressed the ongoing shutdown issues that were unexpectedly uncovered – fearful that my perceptions of that day might really turn out to prove me crazy after all.
In that ceremony yesterday, I actually began to regress slightly into that same state of mind, feeling quite jittery. Then, this morning before meditation, I again regress momentarily as I attempt to clarify a question with Keith – a question about ego and asking versus not-asking for help. As if on cue, I momentarily lapse into the confusion as Keith briefly replays that same parental role of not giving me the clarity and understanding that I seek.
Luckily, I recognize what I am doing and soon retrace my steps without getting lost. But the ninety minute meditation that follows turns out to be quite an emotional adventure as I again dip deeply into the fears of regressing back to that day.
From those who were on the porch that day, I have been repeatedly told that they witnessed Keith as being firm but loving, and that I literally regressed into being a confused and rebellious child. This morning one friend gave me another piece of feedback – one that I desperately wanted to hear – one that deeply soothed my troubled fears.
“I thought Keith was being quite hard-assed with you during parts of the ceremony.” My friend tells me.
“Oh, thank you, thank you.” I giggle. “I am so grateful to be told by an outside observer that my feelings were not totally unfounded.”
Trusting The Flow
“Keith,” I again ask after this morning’s meditation, “can you please tell me one more time what was going through your mind on that crazy afternoon six weeks ago?”
My dear friend Keith proceeds to clarify that early during the ceremony he received strong guidance that he needed to play the very specific the role that he did – and that he was not supposed to try to pull me out of my confused shutdown. At the time, he had no idea whatsoever just where the process might take us, but he trusted the flow, knowing it was exactly what needed to happen.
Keith, as I conclude my writing today, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for teaching me to further follow my own flow – and for doing it with personal example.
As strange as that crazy day was, I believe it to be one of the most profound lessons – one of the most profound gifts of my life.
Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved