Brenda's Bicycles

As I arrive at the Guatemala City airport, just before 10:30 a.m., excitement consumes my soul. It is Sunday morning, April 22, and my dear friend Pyper is finally arriving for her much-anticipated visit. It is a trip that has been in the energetic works for two years now – a trip whose manifestation has finally come to fruition – a trip that I anticipate with giggles.

The airport has no indoor waiting area at the arrival gates. Instead, I stand around with several hundred other people, most of them local Guatemaltecos, crowded behind small portable fence barriers that surround the exit doors through which people pass after completing their journey through customs.

Finally, at just after 11:00 a.m., I see a very familiar smiling face walking out those doors. As she glances around the large crowd, looking somewhat confused and lost, I wave my arms vigorously to get her attention. Seconds later, we exchange hugs.

A Giggling Reunion

Pyper has packed extremely light so that we can travel through Guatemala the way the local people do. We could easily have chosen private transportation options, but she is in the mood for adventure, and so am I. Traveling on public transportation with multiple suitcases is quite awkward indeed – so Pyper has brought only a backpack, a little larger than typical school size.

A few minutes later, I am haggling with a local taxi driver, trying to talk down the extremely expensive rates. Not being an especially skilled negotiator, I feel lucky to snag us a taxi for fifty quetzales – about $6.50 US. This is quite expensive, considering that the rest of our four-hour journey will only cost us about seventy quetzales total for the two of us.

Ten minutes later, we are giggling as we walk down a long street lined on both sides with chicken buses headed for countless destinations all over northwestern Guatemala. We soon climb onto a chicken bus headed for San Pedro La Laguna – one that will drop us off just a ten-minute Tuk-Tuk ride from San Marcos. But a few minutes later, acting on a whim, we follow a quick hunch and switch buses, climbing aboard one headed to Panajachel. Our total travel time will be about the same, and this option gives us an opportunity to do a little shopping on the way.

After two hours of nonstop giggling conversation while speeding around sharp corners on high-mountain highways, we arrive in Panajachel – my usual shopping and banking destination on the eastern end of Lake Atitlan. After a quick tour of the market, most of which is closed on Sunday, we spend another animated hour dealing with eager souvenir vendors who attempt to take advantage of my dear friend’s wish to buy multiple gifts for friends.

My Own Bed

At around 3:30 p.m., we start the final leg of our journey – one that begins by climbing aboard a crowded little public lancha (boat). After a beautiful forty-five minute wavy and bouncing journey, stopping at several small town and residential boat docks along the way, we both giggle as we finally step onto the boat dock in San Marcos and then hurry up the long cobblestone path that leads to the center of town, and to my apartment.

Having arrived too late to participate in the Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony, Pyper and I walk out to Keith’s magical porch at 5:30 p.m., hoping to engage in a short chat. We smile with gratitude when Keith suggests that the three of us go out to dinner together. Even more delightful is that after a fun evening of “getting to know you” over dinner, Keith devotes yet another hour to guiding Pyper through some introductory inner work.

It has been a long and exhausting weekend for both of us – one involving tiring and time-consuming travels that each of us separately began on Saturday morning. After getting very little sleep on a hard bed in a tiny room in Antigua last night, my own bed never felt so good.

Beautiful Opportunities

Monday morning could not involve more perfect timing. My dear friend Isaias is studying to be a Mayan Priest – what we in the western world would call a Shaman. Beginning nearly nine months ago, Isaias has made frequent treks to the mountains – a few hours away from San Marcos – traveling every thirteen days (and sometimes more) to spend time with his teacher. The number thirteen is significant as being the number of individual days in each of the twenty divisions/months/naguales of this sacred calendar – and many believe that in the Mayan Tzolk’in calendar, the number 260 (13 x 20) is synonymous with the human gestation cycle.

“Can Pyper and I go with you on Monday?” I had asked Isaias a week earlier.

When Isaias had responded “of course”, I was deeply eager to inform Pyper that on her first day here, she would be privileged to travel through the backcountry of Guatemala to witness a Mayan fire ceremony – one held in a small village where many of the young children have never even met anyone from outside of their own village – especially not a white-skinned westerner.

A Love-Filled Journey

After a delicious breakfast of oatmeal and chocolate, Pyper and I giggle and visit on my patio, basking in the energy of surrounding banana and avocado trees while talking and talking and talking … there is so much to talk about. Around 11:15 a.m., Isaias stops by. After using my computer to determine Pyper’s Mayan calendar signs – and after Isaias takes ample time to explain their meaning – the three of us scurry down to the boat dock to catch a lancha to Panajachel. Isaias has a few errands to run before we head up into the mountains.

Finally, after a delightful and delicious $2.00 lunch in the market, we climb aboard a crowded chicken bus that will take us up the hill to Solola. A few minutes later, we are squeezed tightly into a minivan crowded by beautiful souls. I love watching Pyper joyfully connect her heart with several Mayan women, ranging from grandmothers with beautiful wrinkled faces to tiny babies. We even sing songs together as we zoom down winding mountain roads. The love radiating from my dear friend is glowing, as are the faces of those around her.

Finally, we descend from the minivan and climb into the back of a pickup truck for the final fifteen minutes of our magical journey. Many of the young children who join us in the open-air back seem fascinated by these strange people speaking a funny language.

We are all eager with anticipation as we step onto the ground in front of the home of Isaias’s beautiful teacher – A Mayan Priestess woman with a huge heart.

A Special Day

Unbeknownst to any of us prior to arriving, our fire ceremony today will not be held in the usual space at the back of his teacher’s home. Instead, we will be walking about twenty minutes up into the mountains to a sacred spot with a gorgeous view, doing the fire ceremony on the top of a huge sacred boulder surrounded by tall trees and rugged mountains.

Pyper and I merely watch and hold sacred space, participating only briefly at appropriate moments as Isaias and his teacher complete his second-to-last training ceremony. It is an experience I will never forget – one that radiates with loving memories and magical moments.

Shortly after 6:00 p.m., as the skies begin to darken, the three of us are again standing in the back of a small pickup truck, tightly hanging onto a metal frame as we bump over rocky dirt roads. This particular truck is packed with a group of school youth who are returning from a long day in a nearby town. Pyper and I delight in sharing giggles with these children as their wonder-filled, wide-open eyes tell us that they have never before interacted with strange people like us.

I am not quite sure if the boys in the back of that truck are laughing WITH us or laughing AT us – probably a little of both.

To our delight, as we reach the main highway, we a very lucky to flag down a chicken bus that will take us straight to Lake Atitlan. Less than an hour and a half and a short Tuk-tuk ride later, we are hugging Isaias goodnight, thanking him from the bottom of our hearts for including us in his special day.

Twinkling Magic

But the day is far from over. The local town Feria (San Marcos’s birthday festival) is in full swing. After gobbling down on a few slices of street-vendor pizza, Pyper and I wander down to a quiet dock where we sit in the dark under starlit skies while gentle waves pass below us and slosh into the shore behind us. The air is filled with magic as fireflies twinkle nearby and town lights twinkle across the lake.

Later, we return to the center of town where we take in the wonder of a local public ceremony where Mayan woman and youth from all around this region are dressed in gorgeous traditional costumes, including elaborate head gear – walking down a large runway while doing traditional dance shuffle steps.

After a quick Skype call home to Pyper’s family in Alaska, we again return for more of the festival. The noise is so loud that we know we will not be able to sleep anyway. It is after 12:30 a.m. on Tuesday morning when we finally cease our non-stop talking and giggling, surrendering to exhaustion that consumes us both.

In spite of the continuing loud noise from the center of town, I sleep remarkably well.

A Squeamy Heart

Early Tuesday morning, April 24, Pyper and I heat up two ceremonial doses of pure traditionally-processed cacao – the name of the chocolate plant before it is processed into chocolate. After drinking our delicious hot chocolate and engaging in more animated conversation, we make our way out to Keith’s magical porch for a 9:00 a.m. private chocolate ceremony with Keith.

I will not talk about Pyper’s work, but I love how what she does triggers my own process deeply. After she opens a beautiful energy channel, the verbal exchange between Pyper and Keith suddenly helps me to understand that an energy channel being open is the “natural state” – and that it actually takes inner effort on my part to keep it closed.

“As my body struggles to maintain a subconscious energetic shutdown,” I ponder these deep new insights, “all of the clenching – clenching that I cannot seem to relax with conscious mind – is actually exerting a great deal of effort to shut down my energy flow.”

“I have been trying to use my rational mind to open the energy flow in my body,” I further ponder, “when this is something that rational mind simply cannot do. The way to open is not to DO something, it is to STOP doing something and to instead undo the blockages that are causing me to work and clench at a level beyond rational mind.”

As I continue holding space for Pyper’s beautiful private ceremony, I focus on allowing and surrendering. As I do so, intense “squeamys” form in my lower heart and upper solar plexus regions. The energy panic is so intense that I literally feel as if the cells in this region are squirming and screaming, actually wishing they could jump out of my body. As crazy as it may seem, the act of “doing nothing” with my mind is beginning to create great panic at a subconscious level.

Anxious Twitching Squeamys

Tuesday afternoon, a rare special-invitation public chocolate ceremony takes place – one scheduled for the benefit of several people who are only in town for a short time – people who will not still be here for the normal Wednesday afternoon timeslot.

“How are you doing Brenda?” Keith turns to me when the Glow Meditation concludes.

“I am still continuing to follow my process from this morning,” I begin to share. “I am increasingly feeling more energy, anxiousness, twitching, squeamys, and feelings of fear in my abdomen, upper chest, and even in my throat.”

“It is feeling quite clear to me that the clenching in my arms and legs is an extension of the clenching in my torso, and not the other way around,” I share new insights. “I have been especially focusing on trying to relax my arms.”

“You are doing well,” Keith responds before quickly moving on. “Keep following your metaphors.”

An Oxymoron

“I am trying to relax…” I express to Keith as he eventually checks in on me.

“Now that is an oxymoron … trying to relax,” Keith interrupts me with a smile.

As I ponder Keith’s interruption, I suddenly realize the absurdity of relaxation requiring effort … yet in my case it actually does. The clenching seems to be on autopilot, and it requires great conscious focus and physical effort to stop. And whenever I do consciously stop clenching, inner panic energies always find some way to get my attention.

“I have clenched for so long,” I share with Keith, “that not clenching is unnatural and requires constant work … and not clenching triggers great internal anxiety as things begin to loosen. Almost immediately, this anxiety causes me to quickly re-clench and to give up.”

Inner Reflections

As I watch the porch while continuing my meditation, I notice several distracting behaviors by others. I try to ignore these distractions … bringing in my “Muppet Show” metaphor to see it all as a stage play … but I cannot let the distractions go. I struggle to not make the behaviors real, to not buy into the distractions, to remember that “it is not about what it is about, it is not about the people involved, and that nothing changes until I do.”

As I struggle to maintain inner sanity while watching external events about which I will not elaborate, I begin to realize that my inner clenching is metaphorically quite similar.

Inside of me, these clenching energies are struggling to create a safe environment, to protect me from outside energies that used to cause me pain and emotional grief in many different ways. It suddenly becomes clear that what I am observing on the porch is an external projection of the protective clenching that is running on autopilot inside of me – it is a need to control and manipulate my environment in order to protect my well being, safety, emotional sanity, and happiness.

When Keith completes another round trip of the porch, I give him a quick update of my progress. He quickly moves on, yet again, after telling me to keep following the breadcrumbs.

Mother Stuff

As I ponder my external triggers, many of which are focused onto Paul, I again suddenly see him as representing my mother. At age twelve, I desperately wanted to hide from my mother and the fixing energies that I perceived – but with my mother, just like with Paul, I could not run and I could not hide from my inner projections.

I desperately wish I could discuss my projections with Keith – but I know that I cannot do so without publicly involving Paul – and I do not want to go there publicly when I know my triggers have nothing to do with Paul.

“I feel incapable of discussing my feelings,” I soon express to Keith when he starts asking questions. “I feel trapped, unsafe, and unable to talk.”

“I know that anything I say or do will result in making things worse in my present-day reality.” I continue talking in metaphors to Keith. “I am a trapped alien in a world that does not understand aliens. I do not fit in. This is profoundly taking me to childhood. My mother did not and could not understand me, and I simply could not be what she wanted me to be. Then, just like now, if I were to try to explain my feelings … to share or talk about my dilemma, it would only create more problems.”

“At age twelve,” I continue, “I was lost and alone. My mother was not going anywhere and I could not discuss my dilemma with her in any way. Such an undertaking would devastate her, and ruin everything.”

What makes this conversation even more awkward is that I know Paul is listening in, and I intuitively know that he is aware that I am unable to talk because I am projecting “mother stuff” onto him.

Lost In Regression

“Bring in the light,” Keith guides me.

“I can’t,” I respond a few minutes later. “I am so deeply lost in the nightmare of being unable to talk … so hopeless … that I cannot even connect with the light.”

As I say these words to Keith, I am in agony, lost in my projections, unable to see this moment as simply a regression. It is real … a very real nightmare … a nightmare of desperately wanting to talk but absolutely knowing it is unsafe to do so. Weeks will yet need to pass before I eventually reach a deep emotional and experiential understanding of this painful reality.

“This is powerful work,” Keith congratulates me.

“I need to talk to you one on one,” I respond, still feeling unsafe to talk publicly.

Finally, after Keith again moves on to work with others, I focus increased effort on following Keith’s guidance … on bringing in the light. Ever so gradually, I am able to feel a gentle influx of light and hope that is accompanied by a more-clear understanding that what I am doing is a regression to age 12 and my teen years – that it is not the present-day reality that I have been emotionally experiencing.

Little by little, the painful regression converts into a beautiful stage play while powerful love and light begin to fill me.

Overwhelming Gratitude

Finally, after everyone has left, I spend twenty minutes getting my wish, discussing my journey with Keith without the awkwardness of listening ears.

Without fear of judgment from Keith, I freely discuss the profound parallels of how Paul seems to be playing the role of my mother, and how I seem to be projecting my God drama onto Keith.

“And today was profound in showing my deep inability and agony over how I was unable to talk to anyone about my struggles, or to get help of any kind,” I share deep insights.

By now, I am filled to overflowing with light and love, excited and empowered, alive with beautiful energy, no longer projecting onto anyone. In fact, I feel overwhelming gratitude for the stage-play roles that were performed for me today.

Keith congratulates and validates my process, but I am now so filled with peace that a need for validation is not even on my radar.

You’ll Be Back

Soon, Pyper pops back onto the porch. She had skipped out earlier to integrate her own process, and has been down on a nearby dock reading and meditating. On a quick whim, we race home, hurry into our swim suits, and scurry down to the lake for a magical evening swim, arriving just before sundown at my favorite spot on the shores of Lake Atitlan.

“You are in trouble now,” I joke with Pyper while we tread water several hundred feet from our towels. “They say that if you swim in Lake Atitlan, that you will definitely return.”

Our swim is magical as we giggle and float in delightfully-calm waters, surrounded by the energy of three towering volcanoes, enjoying the mystical energy of an ancient and very deep lake surrounded by Mayan villages.

Later, as Pyper and I finish up a delightful dinner at a nearby restaurant, the town Feria continues in full swing. The blasting dance music does not end until 1:00 a.m., but even with the incredibly loud concert-volume vibrations, I sleep like a baby.

Mayan Women’s Textile Cooperatives

Wednesday morning, Pyper and I arise early. I have frequently heard talk of several women’s textile cooperatives in a nearby town of San Juan – cooperatives of local Mayan woman who work together to create colorful Mayan fabrics from scratch, actually spinning the thread from cotton before dying it with natural dyes created from local plants and vegetables. After setting the dye using extracts from the trunks of banana trees, they then hand weave incredibly beautiful cloth that is sold in bulk or sewn into various forms of traditional clothing and accessories.

Having lived here in San Marcos for nearly two years while never taking the time to play tourist, Pyper provides me with just the perfect opportunity. For nearly three hours, we make a rush tour of San Juan while Pyper does additional souvenir shopping – exploring art galleries and hand-made clothing shops – finishing off the morning with a fascinating demonstration by a woman in one of the cooperatives as she shows us how the cotton threads are created and dyed.

Then, after a quick Tuk-tuk ride to San Pedro where we do a little more exploring, we rush back to San Marcos just in time for an afternoon chocolate ceremony.

A Struggling Empath

The chocolate ceremony begins quite slowly for me. I have a nice meditative energy, but do not feel any inner guidance unfolding.

In the absence of other intuition, I pursue a continuation of yesterday’s process – following the breadcrumbs regarding the inner body clenching. Finally, several hours into the ceremony, I begin to get deeply nauseas. When I quickly check in with Keith, I explain that I think I am reading someone else’s energy, but am beginning to wonder if perhaps the nausea I am feeling might really my own emotional density.

“Ask your heart to help you,” Keith gives his only guidance before quickly moving on.

After struggling a while longer, I still get the feeling that what I am experiencing is not mine, but after at least another half hour, my solar plexus is extremely swollen and hard and my eyes are dripping with tears as painful emotions consume me. I find it extremely difficult not to burst into deep sobs.

“Keith,” I finally interrupt when he has a free moment. “I am so confused, wondering if what I am feeling is mine. It is so incredibly painful and so swollen … and I am literally struggling to not break out in deep sobs.”

A Learning Process

“Brenda, it is not yours,” another very intuitive woman interrupts before Keith can guide me, “and you are doing much more than just reading it.”

This woman later tells me in confidence that I was taking in the agonizing density of another specific person in the group.

“You are running the pain through you,” Keith soon guides me regarding this other person’s density, “and you are feeling it profoundly. In fact you could say that you are running it through you and trying to process it all by yourself.”

As I sit with this deep pain, searching for inner guidance on how to stop “running this density through me”, another woman jumps in with a great deal of head advice about why what I am doing is merely a choice, and that I can simply choose to not run it through me.

“This is part of my process in learning,” I respond to the woman. I have so many inner blocks and my physical perceptions are so shut down, that I am not even aware of what I am doing at a conscious level. For me it is not just a conscious choice. It is a learning process while I undo the blocks that prevent me from doing it more elegantly.”

As I did yesterday in a different context, I begin to bring in light … a tiny bit at first, and gradually increasing. As I am able to do so, the pain slowly diminishes and then dissolves. Finally, I am in complete peace.

An In-Between Stage

Several times over the final couple of hours, I begin to feel the pains entering my body again. When I do so, I immediately focus on the light, and the pains diminish.

“This whole process feels like work,” I ponder in fright. “It is so unnatural to me right now that it takes deep constant focus and vigilance to remain in the light. I am slightly afraid that I will continue to bring in this painful density if I do not focus on the work.”

When I talk to Keith near the end of the ceremony, he soon clarifies the intuitions that I am already beginning to figure out. What I am experiencing today is stuff that happened to me both as a child and in my teens. It is showing me the utter confusion that I felt when I took in all of this agonizing pain from others and ran it through me, believing that what I felt was my own. I had no way to know that what I was experiencing did not even belong to me – that it was not mine. If someone had told me what I was doing back then, I would have laughed at them, not even believing such craziness to be possible.

“As a teenager, while eating such emotional densities from others,” I share new insights with Keith, “I felt like a total loser. I was a human garbage dump for dysfunction. I did not know what I was doing. I felt hopeless and helpless. The emotional and even physical pains I experienced were beyond description, and I absolutely believed the pain to be mine … but I now realize that it was not.”

“This is a beautiful understanding of what happened to you right before you shut down the rest of this sensitivity,” Keith explains, “only you are now undoing it in reverse order.”

“I am in a very confusing stage,” I explain to Keith. “I am in the baby steps of having my sensitivities beginning to open, but not yet knowing how to interpret and use them. I am starting to learn, but am very afraid of what I am doing.

I love the awareness that is gradually unfolding, and feel totally prepared to continue having such additional awareness-opening experiences grace my life. But I have to admit, that a great deal of fear also lurks in the shadows.

Needed Belly Laughs

As Pyper and I prepare to go out for dinner, we are surprised by an unexpected visit from Isaias, his wife and baby, his sister, and a dear friend. The next hour is filled with giggling conversation as this beautiful opportunity unfolds – a delightful opportunity for Pyper to be further immersed in the lives of a few of the beautiful Mayan people that I now call family.

When the social gift comes to conclusion, Pyper and I head out to find my favorite burger and fries – but because of Feria, the two restaurants we stop at are both closed. Soon we are back at my home, cooking up yummy black bean tacos on flour tortillas.

We have so much fun talking and laughing that we again stay up until nearly midnight. Wow did I ever need the blessing of gut-shaking belly laughs. When I finally do go to bed, the Feria concert music continues to vibrate my apartment as if I was sitting on the front row of a rock concert, but I still somehow manage to fall peacefully to sleep.

Xela Or Bust

Early Thursday morning, Pyper and I are waiting on the street at the center of town. At 6:05 a.m., Keith picks us up in his trusty little Toyota Pickup, and the three of us zoom off into the sunrise on a dawning adventure. Two days ago, I had suggested the idea to Pyper and, after her giggling “Yes, Please” response, I then suggested the same idea to Keith. Keith required no convincing either. Pyper and I would pay for the gas, we would all get a market day at the huge outdoor Xela market, and we would do a private chocolate ceremony in one of the magical hot springs in the town of Almolonga, just a short drive from Xela.

As we zoom up the steep switchbacks of the road leading above Lake Atitlan from San Pablo, I cannot help but remember my first similar magical trip, doing the same thing with Keith in late 2010. Today, on our laughter-filled journey, we stop several times for photo ops as we rise above Lake Atitlan and later turn in the direction of Mexico on the Inter-America highway.

After about three hours of playing tourist, we park near the large Xela (pronounced Shay-luh) market, where we take lots of photos, and buy fruits, vegetables, nuts, and other assorted items. After a quick trip to a few large modern department and hardware stores – stores that are not available near the lake – we finally venture to Almolonga.

Surrender To The Heat

After changing into our swimsuits, we drink a partial dose of chocolate and slip down into our own private concrete hot tub. We are at a different hot spring facility – not the one I have visited before. In this one, the private pools are slightly smaller and shallower, and much hotter. Knowing how I struggle with extreme heat, Keith asks if I need the water to be cooler.

“No,” I respond with confidence. “I remember that my last time a year ago, the heat frightened me, but after I surrendered to it, I had an amazing experience. Today, I want to surrender again … I want to find the ability to sit in that water as a part of my process.”

When I first sit in the extremely hot water, I begin to experience a state of physical panic. My scalp is always the first to react, causing my head to freak out with prickly poking feelings of extreme sweating, anxiety, and panic.

Keith and Pyper are quite gentle as I talk myself through the process, doing so aloud, describing my frightening journey from an observer point of view.

“Please know that I am fine,” I keep reassuring them. “The panic I am sharing is real, but I am simply observing it as I further surrender to the heat.”

Intuitive Breadcrumbs

For nearly an hour, we sit in the hot water in meditative silence. Keith occasionally does some pseudo-Tibetan chanting, and Pyper occasionally sings a song or two. I merely meditate while occasionally chiming in with a little humming harmony.

“I am beginning to feel nausea in my abdomen,” I eventually mention to Keith. “Intuitions tell me it is metaphorical and not physical – that something inside of me wants out – that perhaps a resistance or inner blockage wants to be released from my body.

With Keith’s guidance, I begin to bring in my Higher Energy to assist me, and the nausea gradually disappears.

A while later, I feel an intuitive guidance telling me to silently express my intentions for a stronger connection to Mother Earth, asking to be held by my Divine Mother in unconditional love.

Love Equals Pain

As I sit in this magical earthy water while focusing on this connection to Mother Earth, I begin to feel a beautiful energy rise up my back. The majority of this delightful energy focuses strongly in the hips, lower back, back of heart chakra, and the back of my upper neck. In fact, the physical sensations literally feel as if a hand is holding me at the back of my head.

This intuitive visual soon leads me to imagine myself as a tiny baby being held in the arms of the Divine Mother. As I begin to bask in this inner visualization, I imagine being held by various beautiful feminine energies – the Divine Mother, angels, Pyper, and even my own dear mother.

Suddenly, I am quite shocked when I experience deep emotional pain as I attempt to visualize my own earthly mother holding me. Quickly retreating to other Higher Energy visualizations, I again fill with peace and love. I periodically return to the visualization of my real physical mother holding me. But each time I do so, the same deep emotional pain swarms me, taking me out of the beautiful peaceful energy and into the energies of pain, nothingness, and stuck-ness.

I soon begin to cry as I intuitively recognize the inner “hook” of how love is hooked as being equivalent to pain, and of how a loving emotional connection with my mother brings with it a deep associated empath connection to the emotional pain as well.

My Own Future Self

Giving up on my physical-mother visualization, I simply focus on pure angelic love. As I do so, I gradually experience increasing emotions of beautiful energy. I feel the energy rising up through my spine, from the top of my root chakra all the way up to the back of my head – but when I attempt to bring the same beautiful energy up the front of my body, it gets deeply stuck. I feel some of it in my abdomen, but it will not move up above the solar plexus.

Somewhere in the middle of this beautiful solo process, I engage Keith in exploratory conversation regarding my process.

“I am feeling deeply emotional as I imagine myself being this precious baby while also being my own future self, going back in time to hold and love this baby,” I take my process to another level. “I am both the baby and my future self, but right now I am mostly identified with the emotions of the baby while clearly recognizing that I am regressing, and that this is not present-day stuff.”

“Bring in the light Brenda,” Keith again reminds me. “Do not identify with these emotions as the baby. Do not attach to the baby’s pain. Be your own future self.”

As I listen to Keith’s guidance, I begin to think too much in my head and start to lose the beautiful energy I already had.

“Thinking about what to do and what not do to gets me into more control and less ‘being’,” I share with Keith. “But still, I am deeply in my process … sometimes being the baby and feeling quite emotional … sometimes being the future self and losing the emotions.”

Automatic Resistance

“Brenda, would you like me to hold you?” Pyper asks, being quite unsure of herself, not wanting to interfere in my process, not sure if it is appropriate to even ask.

“I have been pondering that thought myself for a while,” I respond. “I really have been manifesting repeated times when people hold me over the last few months, and I am not sure if it will help me or not. It might take me further into the process, and it may pull me out.”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” Keith suggests. “You can always stop it if it is not working.”

Soon, Pyper is holding me in the water. My back rests on her chest. Her arms wrap around me and press gently into my heart. Almost immediately, I feel my emotions stop, my energy flow diminishes, and my inner resistance skyrockets.

“This is actually a very powerful ‘know myself’ moment,” I explain to Keith and Pyper as I fill them in on my experience. “I feel myself resisting, actually putting up my wall to prevent human contact and love because I have it deeply hooked as being equivalent to that pain and lack of trust, etc…”

Hot And Cold

In spite of the resistance, I continue to allow, surrendering and immersing myself into the feeling of being hugged, of the physical embrace that so lovingly surrounds me. I love the beauty of Pyper’s energy … of her pure love and intention … but remain deeply puzzled as to why I am now unable to feel the powerful higher-vibration energies that I was able to feel a while ago when sitting by myself.

“I know this is a strong clue to my resistance,” I explain to Keith. “I resist people because I fear the empath pain that will ultimately accompany that connection.”

After making a quick restroom trip, I decide to try sitting alone again.

“It would be a good idea to get out of the pool and lay on your back on the concrete floor for a while,” Keith suggests what his guidance is telling him. “Try getting in and out of the pool occasionally … hot and cold cycles.”

Soon, I reluctantly follow Keith’s guidance. I am finally used to the water and my head can think of no reason to follow Keith’s intuitions – other than that I deeply trust him.

Beyond Mind

As I lay on my back on that cold concrete floor, I am shocked by the sudden and incessant pounding and pulsing that throbs in my solar plexus, of all places. It feels like an extreme and exaggerated heartbeat, but it is in the middle of my upper abdomen – and it feels like the makings of a powerful anxiety and/or panic attack. When I begin to explain this bizarre experience, Keith cuts me short.

“Brenda,” Keith lovingly guides me. “This is a part of your process. Allow and surrender to it. Do not use your mind or do anything … just be and allow.”

I observe myself in this crazy-making process for quite a while. Intuitively, I get the feeling that this pulsing and throbbing is the location of a huge energetic blockage – as if it is a major channel of energy and power in my body, but it is tied into a knot right here. The energy cannot pass beyond this knot, and is instead pulsing with extreme pressure as it tries to do so. Instead of seeing this sensation as a panic attack as I always would have interpreted it in the past, I see it as a powerful metaphor of my pulsing blockage as it is gently worked on by Higher Energies that are assisting me at a level beyond rational mind comprehension.

Light Levitations

Eventually, after at least another half hour, the pulsing fades and I suddenly begin to get quite cold. I find it fascinating that the two events (relaxation and cold) seem to happen simultaneously.

When I surrender to the cold, as I had earlier done to the hot water, I begin to feel strong twitching vibrations – somewhat pleasurable energetic vibrations in my back. I am not sure if this is merely a reaction to the cold, or if it is a new energetic experience … and I do not try to figure it out. I simply surrender. I imagine myself as being operated on by Higher Beings while laying on the “Goddess’s Operating Table” – a metaphor Keith occasionally shares. Soon, such energy twitching is occurring in my forehead, high heart, chest, and abdominal regions – mostly on the back receptive side of these chakras – but slightly in the front as well. This wiggling, moving, pulsing energy continues to be quite strange but also pleasurable.

At one point as I rest on this hard concrete, I ask for support from Mother Earth, and almost immediately experience a delightful, very pleasurable layer of tingling energy underneath me, running completely from head to toe. The sensation is amazing. While basking in this energy, I imagine myself levitating in this vibration … it is magical … and I soon imagine this levitation taking me into that magical room filled with my circle of divine friends and guides.

I never fully reach this imagined state before the energies begin to subside. Eventually, feeling quite cold with fading energy, I do some quick muscle testing to confirm my intuition that it is time to get back in the hot water.

Job Upgrades

As I begin to boil again in the extra hot water, I start to experience a new round of nausea. As I did before, I work with my resistance energies, this time asking them to all join me in my inner conference room. I express my gratitude to them for how they have kept me safe all these years, working twenty-four hours a day to keep me securely shut down. Then I ask them to work with Higher Self, suggesting that if they are ready, that they can take on a new job upgrade, have more fun, take vacations, and play more. I stop short of actually handing out new job assignments, but instead simply express my inner intention for them to work with Higher Self to determine if they are ready and willing to receive new upgrades.

“I could not have done this meditation two days ago,” I soon fill Keith in on what I am doing. “I was too distracted then, but today, I feel as if actually did it.”

“It is best to have those aspects of yourself work with your Higher Self,” Keith reminds me.

“Yeah, that is what I was doing,” I begin as I fill him in on more details.

Soon, as Keith begins guiding Pyper deep into a subconscious journey, I am delighted when he turns to guide me through my own similar journey, taking turns bouncing between us.

Plugged And Blocked

When I end up in a room behind a door in my subconscious, I find something quite odd – it is a long bead-shaped object – tall and skinny with a narrow channel running down the middle – perhaps two feet in height. As I imagine this bead, I get a brief visual glimpse that the bead is naturally luminescent. The top portions of the bead are dimly glowing from the inside, but some type of restrictive fabric belt blocks the energy at the middle, and the bottom of the bead is not glowing at all.

I feel quite stupid as I explain this unusual metaphor to Keith – but I have learned to trust whatever image that the subconscious presents to me.

After attempting to describe my visual to Keith, he suggests that I sit with it a little longer. As I do so, I get the distinct intuitive feeling that this bead represents me – and I now see it more like a luminescent crystal – but it is not glowing completely because the energy channel down the middle is plugged and blocked.

A Glowing Cloud

“Ask the Higher Energies to help unblock the channel,” Keith guides me.

When I ask if I should envision this bead as being inside of me, Keith suggests that instead, I continue to see it as happening external to my body. As I attempt to continue the meditation, what was once a clear inner image has now faded and I can no longer see the bead. Keith tells me that this is part of my process, and that I should trust that the bead has been taken by my Higher Self to be transformed in another place.

I am deeply disconnected, no longer feeling intuitions – but I trust this process and stay with it.

Finally, after a long while, Keith interrupts the silence.

“Brenda, very soon the bead will return to your awareness, but it will have been transformed,” Keith guides me. “You may not recognize it at all … do not push this process … but expect this to unfold soon.”

Nothing happens for a while as I remain in meditative observer mode.

“Find the energy in that room,” Keith guides me when I soon express some self-doubts.

“As I focus on visualizing that room in my subconscious,” I soon explain to Keith, “I “feel” a light, cloudlike, glowing area above and to the right of me.

“Good,” Keith congratulates me. “Now ask that energy to integrate with you in whatever way it does. It may be a few minutes … it may be an ongoing process … just trust and allow it to unfold with no judgment or expectations.”

Observing And Allowing

As I simply observe, I begin to feel a sense of increased clarity in my head while the present layers of squeamys in my body feel as if they are also being transmuted and cleared. I feel this energy of increased clarity gradually move as it spreads slightly downward, into my neck and the tops of my shoulders. The energy does not move beyond the shoulders, and leaves me with a little pain in the shoulders themselves.

After a while, I feel myself beginning to doubt a great deal. I kindly thank the doubts for their generous service, and do not buy into them. As I thank and ignore them, the doubts fade and I feel more energy begin to move into my shoulders. As this transpires, the pains in the shoulders hurt even more. I do not judge this as either good or bad … it just is.

Following guidance that this process will continue without my rational-mind involvement, I soon stand up and sit on the edge of the small concrete pool … completely out of the water except for my lower legs and feet. Eventually I again lay down on the concrete floor. I never rejoin this meditation consciously, but fully intend that it will continue in the background.

I have been so fascinated by listening to Pyper’s process … so deeply inspired by her work … that I want to focus my rational mind in her direction. For the remainder of our time in this magical hot spring, I simply meditate silently trying not to think at all, just allowing.

Time Shifting

Eventually, as the hot spring manager bangs repeatedly on our locked door, we decide it is time to pack up and leave. We have been in this beautiful meditation for at least four hours … perhaps longer. After quickly washing our hair and taking turns changing, the three of us drive back through Xela while running a few more errands.

Soon, we are each eating a plate of rice and beans in a small public Comedor (kitchen) located at a major chicken bus stop on the Inter-America highway.

Finally, at around 9:00 p.m., after a delightful and animated conversation all the way home, Pyper and I top off our already-fifteen-hour day with another two hours of conversation and photo sharing. As we go through the beautiful collection of photos that she shares from her camera to my computer, we review each incredible day of our short-but-amazing journey.

We laugh and giggle with profound delight as we clearly discuss how each day seems like an entire week, and that these last four days together have literally felt like an amazing time warp – like an entire magical month of adventure.

A Chicken Bus Adventure

Friday morning, after getting up at 6:30 a.m. and soon taking a beautiful walk to the top of a nearby hill, we rush out to Keith’s home one last time as Pyper buys her own personal stash of pure traditionally-processed Guatemalan chocolate. I am blown away by how beautiful this week has been – at how perfectly everything has fallen into place. I can only giggle about my fears six short days ago when I sat on this very porch, sharing my fears with Keith regarding how I wanted to make sure Pyper had a fun trip. I really have learned to trust the process, even more.

By noon, Pyper and I board another little Tuk-Tuk. This time she has two bags – one filled to the brim with souvenirs and chocolate – as we zoom off in the little three-wheeled motorcycle taxi on our way to nearby San Pablo. Soon we are off on another unexpected Guatemalan adventure.

At perhaps halfway to Chimaltenango, a loud exploding bang shakes the bottom of the bus right beneath Pyper’s feet. Simultaneously, we hear loud flapping below us. The bus makes an emergency stop to check things out and then resumes driving, but much more slowly. Fifteen minutes later, we turn off the main highway into a large flat-tire repair shop that seems to be intended for just this very purpose. It seems that the inner tire of a pair of very new-looking tires has completely blown out. About twenty minutes later, we return to the highway with a different, even older tire, believing our interesting side trip to now be complete.

The Wrong Bus

Soon, I mention to Pyper that the bus seems to be extremely noisy now, that the road noise and vibration I feel are greatly enhanced.

“It feels the same to me,” Pyper smiles back in response.

Minutes later, I notice thick plumes of white smoke leaving the engine compartment and drifting down the left side of the bus, right past our window. The fumes are thick and stinky. Finally, the driver decides to pull over and check out the damage. A few minutes later, he begins to drive again. The smoke has temporarily stopped, but quickly resumes its billowing. To make a long story short, after sitting dead on the side of the road for nearly an hour while several men from another bus run over with tools to try to help us, someone makes an announcement that I cannot quite understand. But as the bus begins to rapidly empty, it is quite clear that our journey on this bus is over.

Seconds after disembarking – as most people go to the front of the bus – Pyper and I rush to the back as another chicken bus pulls up behind. We are among the first to crowd into this already-crowded chicken bus … and at least twenty or thirty more squeeze in behind us. I have never seen a bus this crowded. Pyper and I can barely move as we drive the final hour to Chimaltenango. When we finally enter the town, we are so tightly packed that I cannot see where we are … I cannot tell where to get off. We soon squish and squeeze our way to the front of the bus and the driver’s helper quickly tells us to get off.

I can only giggle when I realize that we got off several blocks too soon. Ten minutes later, we are finally in the right spot to wait for our bus to Antigua.

As we stand by the side of the road, Pyper and I giggle and laugh about our journey as we get the very clear message that the Universe simply did not want us on that bus any longer. Since the flat tire did not get rid of us, the engine or transmission or whatever it was had to completely blow.

“I wonder what might have happened if that bus hadn’t broken down?” I ponder with a feeling of profound trust.

“As Keith often jokes in a metaphorical way,” I giggle to Pyper, “you simply cannot get on the wrong bus. The Universe will not let you … it will not stop at your stop.”

The Final Leg

Soon, we are on the final leg of our journey for the day – a one-hour chicken bus ride to Antigua. Having cased out the journey just a week ago, I now feel quite confident. This bus feels even more crowded than the last – with at least eighty passengers squeezed into a thirty-six passenger bus.

As we finally pull into Antigua, it is late, but still daylight. After locating a comfortable hotel room-for-two for the whopping sum of one-hundred Quetzales ($13.00), our first item of business is to purchase a 5:00 a.m. airport shuttle ticket for Pyper. When that matter of business is out of the way, we grab dinner, do a final round of souvenir shopping, and spend a delightful hour in the town square at the heart of Antigua.

A Magical Interlude

Early Friday morning, I wake Pyper up at 4:25 a.m., and by 4:50 a.m., her airport shuttle is parked outside. I barely have time to hug my dear friend goodbye before the minivan pulls away. As I wave while she disappears into the distance, I already miss her. Finally, after a failed attempt at more sleep, I check out of my hotel and board a chicken bus at 6:00 a.m.. An hour later, as I arrive at the main Inter-America highway, I end up having to take three separate buses to eventually land me in Panajachel where I quickly do a little grocery shopping and banking before catching a 10:00 a.m. boat back to San Marcos.

As I take a nap at 3:30 p.m., my day is essentially over. I am too groggy to do much of anything else once the sleep begins to consume me.

It has been an amazing adventure – one more wondrous and fun than I ever imagined possible. Not only did I continue to engage in my own deep inner work during two private and two public chocolate ceremonies, but I remembered again how to laugh in the midst of numerous synchronously timed-and-orchestrated side trip adventures.

These last five months have been filled with such intense and deep emotional inner work, that prior to Pyper’s arrival I literally wondered if laughter was still even possible for me.

The word is out … not only is laughter quite possible … but Brenda does indeed have the ability and capacity to belly laugh – at least under certain conditions.

Thank you, Pyper, for following your guidance and coming to visit me. Even though the journey together was short – they were perfect and inspired days – six wonder-packed unforgettable days that felt like six weeks of much-needed therapeutic healing.

It has truly been a magical interlude in my passionate journey of self-discovery.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved