I truly hope my words today do not offend and make things worse – but not-writing about this experience is simply not an option. I now clearly recognize the entire sequence of events as having been a profound stage play – one created by my higher energies – one designed to trigger me and to point out deeply dysfunctional patterns in my life – one orchestrated to push me toward new healing.
I am genuinely humbled and hope that Debbie (not her real name), if she reads this, will forgive my deep inner exploration.
An Unexpected Email
Thursday afternoon, June 16, I receive an email from a casual friend – one of the people who had walked out early from the strange chocolate ceremony on Wednesday afternoon.
Debbie is curious about what happened after she left, asking for my point of view regarding what occurred when the online-radio show had consumed the porch. She comments that she feels that we allowed our ceremony to be hijacked.
“Did you get any value out of it?” Debbie asks with curiosity.
Attempting To Teach
When I receive this email, I continue surfing on a beautiful wave of energy – still glowing from the powerful insights about undoing of beliefs that had come as a result of staying to the very end of yesterday’s ceremony.
“I know Debbie is seeking validation that the ceremony was an utter waste of time.” I ponder while putting words into my friend’s mind. “She is looking for me to confirm that she was right to leave early – that she didn’t miss anything.”
“I will use my reply as an opportunity to illustrate to her that she might have had a wonderful experience if she had chosen to drop her judgments and to stay until the end.” I ponder.
In a long response, I carefully explain how I too initially agreed that what was happening made no sense whatsoever, how the radio show had not resonated at all, and how strangely Keith had behaved with me after it was all over.
I even attempt to playfully explain that I was fully responsible for what happened – that my energy had created the experience as a setup for my powerful growth. I jokingly apologize to her for how my personal creation had interfered with her experience.
I finish off by sharing with Debbie how wonderfully the ceremony had turned out for me in the end – how I was so grateful that I had stayed – how I had come away with one of the most powerful growth experiences ever.
In a very subtle way, I am attempting to teach my friend a lesson – to show her how she too might have had amazing growth if she had not abandoned the porch so early.
Misinterpreted And Misunderstood
To my shock and horror, an hour or two later I receive a reply from my friend.
“Thank you for validating that that was a complete waste of time.” My friend begins her reply, referring to the Wednesday afternoon chocolate ceremony.
In her response, Debbie thanks me for owning the fact that I created the interruption – and she goes on to express what I perceive as being harsh (and very inaccurate/ projecting) judgments about the gentleman (and my friend) who was on the radio show.
As I read Debbie’s words, I am stunned by how my reply has been so distorted and misinterpreted. She mistakes me as saying that I “physically” created the situation – and she thanks me for validating her viewpoints, implying that I agree with what I perceive as her harsh judgments.
All the while, she almost entirely glosses over the fact that in the end I experienced the entire ceremony as having been perfect – a beautiful growth experience for me.
I smile as I recognize that I have been deeply misinterpreted and misunderstood.
Still Surfing The Wave
I continue to ride on my beautiful wave of light. Debbie’s words do not trigger me in the least. I am amazed that I do not feel any defensiveness, whatsoever – I simply realize that a personal conversation is needed to lovingly clarify the intentions of what I had failed to accurately convey in the email.
Since I am in the middle of writing, I compose a quick reply indicating that we can talk later, and that I will attempt to respond when I have more time. I fully intend to wait until we see each other in person.
My heart glows with love – I know that all is perfect – and that when I talk to Debbie, that all will continue to be perfect.
Unexpected Email
Friday evening, after spending a beautiful day writing and publishing “Certifiably Sane”, I am in an especially delightful and giggly mood. I have noticed for several days now that I am constantly whistling one of the songs from Beauty and the Beast. I don’t remember being this happy and light-hearted for a very long time. Child-like inner joy is beginning to return to my heart.
After enjoying my favorite veggie burritos at a local restaurant, I return to my apartment with intentions of simply relaxing. But suddenly, as I continue to whistle, I also feel guided to check my email, soon discovering another communication from Debbie.
How To Respond?
Debbie has taken my original response and dissected it, inserting her own blue comments all over the place. Her comments are quite lengthy, and I perceive them as especially critical, judgmental, and ego-based.
She proceeds to repeatedly rip even more viciously into my radio-show friend, and then more directly reminds me that I am the one that asked him to hijack the porch – asking me if I had asked myself why I did that.
She even goes so far as to imply that maybe Keith had been an unknowing victim of the porch being hijacked – having been hypnotized and overpowered by the whole process too.
Near the end of her comments, Debbie actually accepts my apology as being serious – one I had jokingly given when I mentioned that my higher energy had created the interruption for my own growth lesson.
She finishes by implying that Keith’s porch is supposed to be “sacred space” and that we need to make sure that we keep it that way.
Still Surfing The Light
As I read Debbie’s words, I continue to glow with unconditional love – still giggly and light-hearted – even still whistling.
“This is an incredible opportunity to teach.” Little Jedi voices whisper in my heart. “Send Debbie a reply tonight. Take the time to lovingly speak your truth … to show her how there are other ways to interpret the events that she seems to be seeing with such judgmental harshness.”
I preface the letter with my loving intent, expressing that I feel deeply misinterpreted, sharing my hesitation to attempt such clarification via an email, and begging her to please interpret my words as being sent with genuine and pure loving intent.
Lovingly-Intended Words
My heart is genuine and glowing as I carefully wordsmith my reply. I choose to use the same response style. Using a red font, I dissect Debbie’s comments by adding my own responses right in the middle of hers – clarifying where I have been misinterpreted – pointing out her judgmental projections and teaching her how she could perhaps look at things differently.
Before clicking on the send button, I reread the email at least four times – rewording several things to be more in tune with my loving intent – carefully checking-in with my intuitions to validate that what I am writing is the way I should say things.
When I press the send button, I am totally pleased by what I have written, convinced that my words are beautiful – respectful – inspired – and that they will make a huge difference in helping Debbie to ‘see-the-light’.
I Am Not Perfect
I sleep like a baby – at least I do until 4:00 a.m. when I suddenly awaken and simply cannot fall back to sleep.
Feeling an unusual urge to check my email, I soon discover a response from Debbie.
Debbie’s words come across as loving and filled with insight – but there is also a little defensiveness as she expresses her hurt regarding how I have judgmentally dumped so harshly onto her.
As I read on, I am shocked and humbled. I recognize that I have completely misinterpreted Debbie’s intentions. In my haste to explain and to defend myself from what I saw as her misinterpretation of my words, I had done the same to her, only worse.
One of Debbie’s sentences stabs me in the heart.
“I’m not perfect. It would be nice if you could give me a bit of a break.” She writes bluntly.
Two Old Patterns
Immediately, in deep humility, I compose a quick response as an attempt to apologize. In a very-wordy way, I attempt to explain what happened – how we had jointly misinterpreted each other in a spiraling way – admitting how I now humbly recognize my participation in harsh misinterpretations.
As I continue explaining myself, I share a profound insight that pops into my head.
“When I feel misunderstood, I feel an obsessive need to explain myself and to be understood.”
Then another insight flows through my awareness.
“I tend to react and judge people whom I perceive as judging others.”
I finish my awkward apology by indicating that I continue to lovingly stand by the concepts that I had attempted to explain in my previous email – while fully apologizing for the fact that I got up on a defensive soap-box in the delivery process.
A Perpetual Screw-up
“I sure hope my reply patches things up between us.” I ponder lovingly as I attempt to drift back to sleep.
But I am sad and unsettled. An old and extremely-dysfunctional behavioral pattern has been profoundly triggered and I am deeply disturbed by that fact.
I have indeed lashed out in judgment toward someone that I perceived to be judging of someone else – and in my haste to do so, I also became excessively obsessive about trying to explain and defend myself.
These are two of the most dysfunctional repeating patterns of my life – patterns that I had believed to be resolved and released long ago. Throughout much of my life, especially in my marriage, these behavioral patterns haunted me – always leaving me feeling like a hopeless, socially retarded, screw-up.
“When I get into such situations,” I ponder sadly with embarrassment, “I get lost in attempting to defend myself, to further explain myself – and the end result is that I always create a complete mess of things.”
Go To The Bottom
Still wide-awake, I begin to meditate at 5:30 a.m., hoping to bring some peace to my troubled self-realizations – to my self-humiliation and pain.
During meditation, emotions swarm at me from all sides. I attempt to blame these emotions onto ego, pushing them away and saying “I’m onto you ego.” And “I won’t fall for this one ego.”
But after an hour of futile struggle I suddenly remember another truth. It is completely self-defeating and unproductive to stuff-down and to ignore any emotion. The only way to truly heal an emotion is to allow myself to go deeply into it, to the very core, to learn and understand what it is attempting to teach me. It is only then that the emotion can be released as no longer necessary.
No, stuffing down an emotion is never the answer. Such denial and burial only postpone the healing process.
I Just Want To Be Understood
At 6:30 a.m., I abandon my meditation, crawl into my bed, and allow the deep, overwhelming emotions to consume me.
“I just want to be understood.” The profound voice cries out over and over.
In the midst of deep sobbing, I again ponder that this “I just want to be understood” theme has haunted me throughout my entire life – through my transition years, my marriage, my youth, and even my childhood – going all the way back to my original feeling of not being able to speak my truth as a tiny child.
The emotional realization is profound and I feel as if perhaps I might now be able to focus on healing the root cause of something that I had mistakenly believed to have already been healed.
See You Soon?
At 9:30 a.m. on Saturday morning, as I stare numbly at my computer, wondering if there is any way that my emotions might allow me to write today, I receive another shocking and unexpected email.
Debbie’s words are extremely curt and harsh.
“I’m sure you mean well, but how about we just let my lessons be my lessons and yours be yours for now. I will learn my lessons at my own pace, not at your pace in any case.”
Her remaining few sentences are equally as harsh, suggesting that our friendship should be at a greater distance – while closing with “See you soon.”
A Social Retard
Talk about shock and devastation.
“I am such an utter screw-up.” I verbally lash out at myself. “My dysfunctional stupidity has now completely ruined a budding friendship.”
Over and over, I mentally flog myself for having ruthlessly trampled over the feelings of a friend.
In an attempt to see where I went wrong, I go back and reread every email that Debbie and I had exchanged.
As I scour my words from Friday evening’s attempt to lovingly teach, I am horrified and deeply embarrassed by the insensitive and pushy way that I had presumed to force my beliefs and advice onto Debbie. I find it hard to believe that I could have ever thought those preachy words to be loving and kind.
Then as I go back to the apology that I wrote this morning at 4:30 a.m., I am again extremely humiliated. It seems that my intention had been pure, but the way I expressed myself was defensive, long winded, and essentially saying that I stand by what I said – apologizing only in a passing way for the delivery – simply rationalizing my words as being the result of my own dysfunctional issues.
“Wow, I really am a social retard.” I beat myself up even more harshly.
Unhealed Treasures
By 11:00 a.m., I am still unable to write – being so numb and miserable in my self-wallowing that I can barely function.
“Are you doing private sessions today?” I ask Keith after finally walking for ten minutes to see if he is even home. “I’m trying to decide whether or not I might need one.”
After briefly summarizing my embarrassing emails of having become the “angry preacher”, I share with Keith another profound insight.
“I am projecting my relationship with my former wife onto Debbie.” I clearly recognize.
With all of the genuine intentions of the world, the only thing I ever ended up doing in my marriage when I desperately tried to explain myself, was to make things worse.
I also clearly recognize that this entire email exchange has been a clever setup by my higher energies. I did not feel the slightest need to defend myself last night – but I was strongly guided to write the words that I did. My entire back-and-forth exchange with Debbie was designed to profoundly trigger me – to show me buried treasures that remain unhealed.
An Unworthy Healer
But even with all of my insights, I feel horrible, deeply emotional, struggling with the fact that my actions have potentially ruined a friendship – perhaps even driven someone away from healing opportunities on Keith’s magical porch.
Even worse is the humiliation of having believed myself to be so unconditionally-loving, only to realize how I have blatantly done just the opposite.
“How can I profess to be a healer,” I ask Keith, “when I am capable of projecting so horribly onto someone that I want to help?”
My Biggest Block
“It is interesting how you are being prepared as a communicator to help the world understand the childhood conditioning process.” Keith points out lovingly.
“And yet the biggest block that your energies put in front of you as a child was that you were not allowed to communicate the genuine nature of what was inside of you.”
“Attempting to communicate your truth to those that you loved only got you in more trouble. You were slammed and shut down at every turn, feeling invalidated, rejected, and having your feelings hurt deeply. You just wanted to be understood and to have a chance to share your beautiful heart – but no one would listen.”
“Wow,” I respond with shivers. “What amazing insight. My biggest block of not being able to be heard or understood is indeed what is passionately driving me to share my heart with the world – what is pushing me toward enthusiastically embracing my life mission.”
Blessing And A Curse
“Yes,” I pat myself on the back, “throughout my professional career, communicating about technical issues in a profoundly clear and simple manner was always my biggest strength. And I also have beautiful communication with countless amazing friends.”
“But even now, I have a tendency to overwhelm people with genuine communication that ends up being rejected and not understood.” I ponder. “I have been starved for the opportunity to share – starved for so long that when someone listens, I don’t know when to stop.”
“And then I end up ruining things all over again.” My sad emotions add.
An Unattached Butler
“I need to be a butler,” I share with Keith, “freely serving up my loving words, but being completely unattached to who receives them.”
“I have no problem doing this with most people,” I ponder out loud, “but it seems that when I share with someone I love, with someone whom I believe needs to understand – then I tend to get lost in my dysfunctional pattern.”
This lesson could not have been brought to me at a more perfect time – a time when I am rapidly approaching a trip back home where I will have ample opportunity to share with family and friends.
“I don’t need to be understood.” I quietly tell myself.
Trust The Flow
“Congratulations for being so clear with where you are at and what you are doing.” Keith tells me proudly.
“But it emotionally hurts so much.” I respond. “How do I heal these emotions?”
“Just remain in the flow and be present as the healing unfolds in its own way.” Keith encourages me.”
A Healer’s Saga
“Most every healer goes through something similar.” Keith then teaches me. “They play out their issues with their clients, projecting big time until they finally heal their own inner dysfunction.”
I am determined to heal myself, and I realize that I have projected in huge ways onto Debbie. I don’t want to be a healer that hurts those I attempt to help.
“I call it a psychological fart.” Keith tells me jokingly. “When it happens it is not pretty, and it smells really bad – but it is part of the process of cleaning up your own projections – it is part of entering and embracing your own role as a healer.”
Inner Knowing
“Is there some process you can guide me into that will help me get through this painful emotion?” I beg Keith. “Even though I know the truth about what is happening – it still hurts so deeply.”
“I’m getting that you need to get in touch with your inner children.” Keith guides me. “Allow them to be at whatever age that feels right. Get in touch with them and get familiar with their experience.”
“The experiences of projecting in your marriage were not the source of this issue.” Keith adds. “Those projections were simply manifesting issues that originated much earlier in life.”
Working Out The Kinks
As I leave the magical porch to begin walking home, Keith again congratulates me, telling me many beautiful things about how I am such a skilled communicator.
“Thank you so much for the positive feedback.” I reply with deep gratitude. “I so much need to hear those words at such a painful time.”
“No Brenda,” Keith replies with a warm smile, “It is not ‘positive’ feedback – it is HONEST feedback.”
As I stroll homeward, I am blown away by memories of how my self-expression has been discouraged throughout my life – a simple poem slammed by a teacher in elementary school – my inability to tell anyone about my transgender struggles – my inability so share new spiritual insights with family – and the list goes on and on.
“Yes,” I ponder, “I did indeed setup a life where honest communication was shackled at every turn. I am so grateful that those chains are finally removed. I just need to work out a few of the kinks.”
Needed Release
At 2:00 p.m., after sending another very short apology note to Debbie, I go to bed. For the remainder of the afternoon, I simply allow myself to feel the emotions – letting them cry themselves out of my body.
“I just want to be understood.” I feel my little child crying out. I cry right along with him.
“I just want to be heard … I just want to be validated for who I am … I am not bad … please, just let me explain … you don’t understand … I’m good … I’m being genuine … I’m not trying to hurt you.”
I feel a very small little boy cry out in profound helplessness as each of these thoughts repeatedly floods through my mind. These words do not come from rational memory – they come from the heart-breaking emotions of a very young child.
Forbidden Words
The rest of Saturday is consumed by emotional tears and gradual healing.
In the process, I remember many extremely awkward times during my teens – times when I was deeply self-conscious about a broken nose, cracked teeth, pigeon toes, and hidden gender struggles. I was so horribly insecure about communicating, that whenever I did dare to open my mouth in an attempt to speak, I spoke so rapidly that no one could understand half of what I said.
I hated myself so profoundly that I avoided every opportunity to speak-up in public. I felt as if my words were stupid and meaningless – that I had nothing to share. The only thing I wanted to share – what I desperately craved to share – where the feelings in my heart. But those words were strictly forbidden.
Strange Dreams
At 2:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, I awaken with little snippets of weird dreams – all of which make little sense – dreams about dogs and cats – and a dream about cobwebs in my doorway, cobwebs that encase two little stick figures, one a boy and one a girl. It seems that I have been halfway between waking and sleeping all night long.
“Dogs and especially cats were the only ones in my childhood that would listen to me share my heart.” I ponder.
“I need to clean out the emotional cobwebs that continue to hold my masculine and feminine selves hostage.” I ponder while trying to return to dreamland.
Cutting The Cord
As I begin to meditate at 6:30 a.m., still after hardly sleeping, I continue to wallow in painful emotions. I ponder recent emotional memories of having empathically consumed my mother’s emotional pain as a child.
“Whoa,” I suddenly pause my meditation, “Is this what I am doing with Debbie? Do I feel so guilty for what I did to her that I have established an energetic ‘give-me-your-emotional-garbage’ link with her? Am I sucking in all of her pain from our two-sided exchange in attempt to keep her from feeling the effects of what happened?”
It all makes so much sense. This is what I did as a child – and what I did in my marriage too. And this is what I am doing with Debbie right now. This is the reason why I continue to suffer emotionally – why I cannot just let go and move on.
As these realizations flood my mind, I set my energetic intent on breaking this unhealthy emotional connection with my friend.
“Debbie,” I meditatively speak to my friend, “your side of this emotional exchange is your own creation – your issue to face. It is not my job to carry your pain. I have been loving and genuine in my intent to follow the energies, and I will no longer suffer for what I think you might be feeling.”
While these thoughts pass through my mind, I simultaneously begin to feel much better and more emotionally stable.
Motherly Memories
As this process continues to unfold, I lose myself in childhood memories.
“I clearly did this same thing with my mother.” I ponder with insight. “I have solid memories at around age eight or nine where I watched my mother suffer because of something one of my siblings did. I remember experiencing the sadness that my mother felt while doing everything I could to make her feel better.”
Still in meditation, I begin a deep process of releasing emotional garbage that is no longer mine to carry. For the remainder of meditation, I give back emotional pain to Debbie, to my parents, to my siblings, my teachers, my childhood friends, and religious leaders. I then release guilt sucked up from my former spouse, my children, and several adult friendships – friendships that had dissolved in the midst of overwhelming emotional confusion.
This process of giving back the guilt and pain brings such relief to my tired and aching body. I continue to be exhausted, but most of my emotional anguish and physical aching has disappeared.
Breaking The Ice
“There are a thousand places I would rather be right now,” I share with Keith as I briefly walk into his Kitchen before the Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony.
“But this is where I know I need to be.” I add. “It is just that I am so uneasy about how things will be between Debbie and me, if she actually shows up on the porch this afternoon.”
I sit on my cushion, nervously awaiting my friend to show her face.
“I’m so sorry.” Are my first words to Debbie when she finally does walk onto the porch.
“What a beautiful way to greet me.” Debbie responds, as we soon exchange a genuine hug.
I still feel slightly awkward, but could not have imagined a more perfect way to break the ice – to release my tension – and to allow me to fully immerse myself into a beautiful afternoon.
Head Stuck
“Brenda,” Keith surprises me as we begin individual work. “I have a message from your guides. They have something for you today if you will allow it.”
I focus on allowing, trying to relax, trying to get out of the way – but again confusion overwhelms me as I ponder, “How do I get myself to allow?”
I am desperately stuck in my head while trying to get out of my head – and having a very difficult time of it.
It Simply Flows
Finally I put myself in my meditative movie theater, sitting on the front row, watching myself attempting to allow. Again I feel tremendous resistance.
Keith moves on to work with someone else while I continue to focus on two things – “allowing” and “listening to the work of others.”
One beautiful woman says something that touches me deeply. She describes how she is feeling emotional density simply flowing out through her relaxed breathing – indicating that it requires no effort – and that it simply flows on its own.
No Effort Required
I latch onto this concept and begin my own conscious breathing, peacefully imagining that emotional densities are calmly flowing out of the front of my throat with each breath.
Gradually, I begin to feel gentle energy movement, rising from the pain in my solar plexus, passing through my heart, and leaving out the front of my throat. The flow is beautiful and peaceful, requiring absolutely no effort on my part.
An Innocent Question
Later, I feel intuitively guided to add another metaphor to the process. I soon find myself hooking up an imaginary garden hose to a huge storage tank. I am sitting by my old bottomless pit, seated in a lawn chair while my little girl, Sharon, occupies another lawn chair just to my right.
Without breaking the peaceful breathing flow through my throat, I imagine the inner densities as also coming out of this hose. I attempt to visualize fireworks exploding as the density disappears on its way to the bottom of the pit – but this once-fun metaphor no longer works. The flow through this little hose is extremely slow and unmotivated.
In the midst of this process, I quietly listen while Keith works with another woman on the porch – a woman doing deep emotional childhood work. I begin to cry inner tears as I relate profoundly to my friend’s process across the porch.
“Sharon,” I suddenly find myself guided to ask my little girl. “Would you like to hold the hose?”
A Bigger Mess
To my surprise, I feel Sharon freak out at the very instant that I metaphorically hand the hose to her.
“I can’t let go of this density.” I hear her exclaim with fear. “I have to hang onto it … it is my sacred duty to keep it … I’ll get in trouble … I have been carrying this around for a very long time … whenever I tried to release it I got into huge trouble.”
“I always made such a mess of things when I tried to make people understand what I was feeling.” I sense Sharon cry out in desperation. “If I release this now I will just make an even bigger mess.”
A Younger Sharon
As Sharon expresses these powerful fears, I sense her emotional tears bursting inside of me. I cannot help but cry right along with her. I whimper a great deal as tears gush down my cheeks. A pile of wet tissue builds up rapidly beside me.
“This hose thing is going very slowly.” I soon share with Keith after filling him in on my adventure.
“Brenda,” Keith suggests, “why don’t you bring in the angels and have them work with your little girl so that she can learn how to do this too?”
“Doesn’t she already know that she is an empath?” I ask confused. “She has already shown me how to do the same thing?”
“Don’t get stuck in your head Brenda.” Keith smiles as he moves on to work with someone else.
I smile as I remember that past, present, and future are all simultaneous, and that this inner work is definitely not a part of linear sequential time.
“Who says I can’t go back to a younger Sharon who has not yet recognized her empath abilities?” I ask myself with a giggle.
Unavailable Angels
As I attempt to bring in angels to help, my meditation repeatedly falls flat. It seems that every time I try, I end up experiencing severe resistance and the metaphor will not remain in my mind. Finally I simply give up on the angel idea and continue sitting with Sharon while she holds the garden hose. We simply keep on doing what we were doing before.
Meanwhile, I still sense a beautiful relaxing energy flow, effortlessly leaving my body through the front of my throat, lovingly being released with every breath.
Hopelessly Lost
While Keith again works his way around the porch, I remain stuck in my tearful release, deeply feeling the pain of my little Sharon, piling the tissues higher and higher, while being completely unable to make any additional progress on my own.
When Keith completes his loop around the porch, he asks me an unexpected question.
“Brenda, would you like some help from the group?” Keith surprises me.
“Oh yes, please, I would love some help.” I eagerly respond.
I am so grateful, it feels so right, and I am so hopelessly lost in my tediously slow process.
“Oh and bring the angels back in to help.” Keith adds as an afterthought.
“Keith,” I respond with confusion, “the angel thing doesn’t seem to be working with my little girl. I tried that before, but it simply fell flat – as if there was strong resistance or something.”
“Brenda, now you are onto something big.” Keith congratulates me.
“Perhaps I need to pay better attention to my failures in meditation.” I ponder quietly.
Angelic Terror
“What was that little girl’s opinion about angels as she was taught at around three years old?” Keith inquires.
For a minute or two, I am again stuck in my head, trying to remember something with rational mind. I propose several possibilities about the negative religious feelings Sharon might have felt from teachings that did not match with what she knew inside.
Suddenly, I envision an angel coming down and standing in front of me, holding golden tablets of judgment – tablets on which are written words like: “Thou shalt not” … “evil” … “rules” … “authority” … “Satan.”
As this image floods my mind, I double over and begin to sob profusely.
“Sharon is terrified of the angels and higher beings.” Keith fills in the gap while I continue crying.
I intuitively recognize the truth of everything he says.
“These beings judged her and got her in so much trouble.” Keith adds.
Unspoken Truth
Without warning, I suddenly begin to cough uncontrollably. Over and over again I cough and cough and cough, sometimes coughing so hard that I gasp for breath.
Each time I try to lift my head to speak my throat again closes off – metaphorically telling me that my expressive chakra was severely restricted.
Finally, after a few minutes of extreme coughing, my urge to cough simply vanishes.
“I was not allowed to speak my truth.” I confidently explain to the group. “My body could not have given me a more profound and clear truthful message than this coughing fit. That little three-year-old absolutely could not speak her truth.”
With the coughing now gone, I explain to Keith that my little girl is still terrified of the angels. Keith quickly suggests that we will not push Sharon into facing this fear.
Speaking For Her
“Brenda,” Keith follows a new intuition. “Ask your little girl if she is ready and willing for everyone here in the group today to connect with her and to help her move some density.”
“Yeah, I think she is …” I share with Keith after a brief pause.
“Brenda,” Keith coaches me firmly, “ask her, don’t just speak for her. Connect with her and ask if she is ready and willing to allow this.”
“Give me a minute.” I ask Keith.
To my shock and sadness, I humbly recognize that I was doing the same thing to Sharon that my parents had done to me as a child. I was not connecting with her in a genuine way, and I was not allowing her to speak her truth. Instead I was simply speaking for her.
Abort Buttons
For several minutes I make Keith wait silently while I go inside to connect with my little girl. I imagine myself getting down on my knees, holding her hands, and looking into her eyes while explaining what we as a group would like to do to assist her.
“Would you like to do this?” I ask my little girl, reassuring her that she is in charge of the whole process. “Here is a button that you can push at any time if you change your mind. You have one-hundred-percent authority.”
Finally, I experience a strong peaceful feeling.
“Yes,” I tell Keith, “She is ready … and I gave her a button to push so that she can stop everything in an instant if she changes her mind.”
“Give her two buttons,” Keith smiles back.
A Relaxed Heart
I imagine myself holding Sharon’s hand, constantly reassuring her as the group begins to connect with her energy, constantly reminding her that she is in charge.
One intuitive friend later tells me that she was able to feel everything that Sharon felt during the entire process.
“There, did you feel that?” Keith asks as he indicates that Sharon was finally able to release a little of the emotional density.
“Yeah, just a little.” I respond.
Eventually I begin to feel a lot of energy moving out, ever so slowly and peacefully. I also feel little Sharon gradually relax.
“Oh, she just began to relax her hands.” I share with Keith as I unexpectedly feel my hands begin to relax. “And now her feet … Oh, and now I feel my heart relaxing, and the sharp pain I was feeling at the “nail-in-the-heart” spot is dissolving.”
“Yes, she is letting her heart relax.” I sigh with peace.
Magical Release
I experience a great sensation of loving peace as the process proceeds – and the front of my throat chakra continues to be delightfully peaceful.
For nearly an hour, the entire group assists little Sharon with this energy release.
“Is your little girl ready to let you work with her one-on-one now?” Keith eventually interrupts. “Will she let you assist as the empath that you are?”
Again for a minute or two I genuinely connect with my little girl before answering to Keith: “Yes, she is.”
As I do so, I begin to feel a sharp pain rise up in my heart at the very moment that I respond. I “send love” to the pain while watching it slowly drift upward into my neck where it beautifully dissolves. It seems that I need do nothing other than simply watch and observe.
“Was that my pain?” I ask Keith curiously.
“No, that was something that Sharon was carrying that she released to you,” Keith answers confidently. “She allowed it to move through your heart.”
A Genuine Relationship
Repeated waves of such pains rise up into my physical awareness. Some pains are stronger than others as they gradually appear, move slowly into my upper chest, then into the neck, and then peacefully dissolve while disappearing with my breath.
No effort seems to be required. I simply watch and allow, using no mind control whatsoever.
Through it all, I see my little Sharon as a real three-year-old with whom I am experiencing a real and loving relationship – I feel the sensation of genuine self-love for the first time in ages.
This process goes on for another half hour. Shortly before the end, I begin to feel considerable twitching activity going on in my eyebrows, accompanied by a sharp tingling feeling at the top of my forehead.
“Just keep watching it unfold.” Keith guides me. “Learn from it, but do not push. Just allow.”
Pizza Party Plans
“I want to treat my little girl to a pizza tonight.” I share with Keith as ceremony winds to a close.
“A couple of us here on the porch might join you,” Keith smiles, “if you would like some company, that is.”
To A New Level
“Congratulations, Brenda,” Keith speaks with genuine sincerity. “That was beautiful work today, taking you to a whole new level of allowing and connecting … actually connecting with Sharon and feeling her feelings rather than just doing it for her.”
Keith then points out how powerful it was when I recognized the block with Sharon’s fear of angels, and how I allowed that theme to evolve in such a profound way.
“You were actually following without pushing,” Keith continues, “moving the energy by simply allowing rather than trying to use effort to force it as you have had to do in the past. What you did was much more natural and beautiful.”
“I felt it.” I respond with deep gratitude. “It was really nice to experience such a peaceful and effortless release.”
When You Decide
Next, Keith surprises me even further by speaking directly to Sharon, telling her that in the future, when she is ready to do so, either in a group or just with me, that she needs to make a decision as to when she is ready to try connecting again with an angel or some other higher being.
“You will not be pushed.” Keith reassures Sharon. “It will totally happen when you decide.”
Again Keith reiterates his beautiful feedback about my having achieved a whole new base-level for my work – being less in my head and more in tune with the energies and the blocks to those energies – responding at a more connected heart-and-feeling level.
I again find myself up on an energetic surfboard, riding the wave of light.
Loving Integration
To my delight, Debbie decides to join me, Keith, and one other friend, as we enjoy a delightful celebration with Sharon over delicious pizza at a small local restaurant.
I am so thrilled that my friendship with Debbie has not been totally destroyed. I only pray that if she reads these words, that she will continue to remain forgiving.
Debbie had been an integral participant in my powerful process with Sharon. At one point Keith had commented on the beautiful sweet energy that she was sharing with my little girl.
I am not yet skilled enough in my energy discernment to pick out the energy of a single individual while filtering out the energy of others – but I profoundly know that Keith is able to do so.
“Maybe when Sharon and I are able to build more trust together,” I ponder late Sunday evening while lying on my pillow. “Just maybe we both might be able to develop and integrate these sensitivities together – and maybe it is just as simple as believing that we can.”
In Perfect Order
These last four days have been an intense roller coaster ride – a wild ride where genuinely-intentioned words launched me into a violent spin of old behavior and emotional patterns – patterns of judgment – patterns of desperately seeking to be understood – and patterns of craving the opportunity to speak my truth.
As I honestly look back at those events, doing so from a clear vantage point, I am filled with gratitude for everything that occurred with precise timing.
There is no doubt in my mind that both Debbie and I were playing into a script that was orchestrated by the combined efforts of both of our higher energies. The emails that we exchanged, including their exact timing, were skillfully designed to launch me into my Saturday loop of painful emotional discovery.
I cannot speak to Debbie’s process, but the resultant growth that unfolded in my life has been extremely timely and profound.
Because of the honest and genuine way in which I looked into the mirror of my pain, I have been gifted with priceless understanding into old patterns – and have made huge headway into healing my relationship with a beautiful inner child.
As usual, I just giggle as I consider how simply following the flow seems to take me through everything in perfect order.
As I further ponder the priceless gifts of understanding, one gift stands out above them all.
I am dazzled by the fact that being unable to communicate – unable to speak my truth – has indeed been the biggest of all emotional blocks in my life. I am mesmerized by the realization that what was once my biggest block is now passionately guiding me into the future.
Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved