Monday morning, as I rush off to Panajachel for a quick bank and Skype trip, emotional exhaustion is like a junkyard dog nipping at my heels. It is one of those days where abundant restful sleep the night before does not seem to help in the slightest.
During a long Skype conversation with my dear friend Michelle, I describe to her how utterly drained that I feel.
“Four months of nearly nonstop emotional processing has taken me to the brink of burnout.” I tell Michelle in desperation. “I have a headache and am emotionally processed out. I want to have some fun, but am too tired and too serious to do so.”
“But I still know that I am exactly where I need to be.” I go on. “I am deeply grateful for the powerful healing … and the energy that is opening up in me is amazing.”
While I feel as if I desperately need a break, something inside of me will not allow me to miss a single group. Keith might begin traveling internationally in a few weeks, and I cannot bear the thought of missing even one day of inner healing.
This inner state of mental and emotional exhaustion turns out to be the perfect setup for what will unfold as an excruciatingly difficult day.
Act One: Following the Mirrors
I am completely lost in my role as the Monday afternoon stage play begins. This morning’s exhaustion has carried over, but so has my determination to engage in another beautiful day of healing.
Recognizing that I am constantly creating my own reality on Keith’s magical porch, I carefully observe everything that takes place, deeply dissecting every event as a possible mirror into my own process, looking for every clue to my next lesson.
I watch as one woman does some powerful past-life contract work.
“I wonder if I might have another past-life contract of my own.” I silently ponder. “Perhaps I have a deep agreement that forces me to continue taking life too seriously in my spiritual path – one that does not allow me to play and have fun.”
Another group member seems very complacent and peaceful, gliding through life as if on autopilot, not outwardly seeming to dig deeper into her issues.
“Is that me?” I ask myself. “Am I avoiding issues and just sliding through life?”
Another woman engages in powerful inner child work, metaphorically playing with her little girl – again reminding me that life needs to include joyful play.
In this same woman’s meditation, Keith guides her to a subconscious book of rules – rules that are keeping her and her inner child stuck. As Keith guides her to rip out and destroy the pages containing the related rules, I try to do the same with my own subconscious “take-life-too-seriously” rules. But as I do so, I am overwhelmed with a feeling of deep fear and stuck-ness. No matter how many times I try to release and destroy these suffocating rules, they keep coming back to me, remaining glued to me, taunting me, proclaiming that I am bound to forever be too serious – that I will never triumph over them.
Then another woman begins to access her own stuck-and-heavy energies. As she does so, I deeply relate. My own emotions of helplessness and stuck-ness begin to boil inside. As I allow those emotions to surface, tears begin to trickle down my cheeks.
“Yes, this is my issue for today.” I tell myself as I prepare to dive deeply into my own emotional process.
“Brenda,” Keith immediately asks, “will you come over and help hold space. I feel that you are deeply connected to the same issue.”
Act Two: The Victim
I make a valiant effort to hold space for my friend, sharing in her process while sending high vibration energy of loving support – but my heart is empty, my emotional state is drained, and my desire to help others at my own expense is completely nonexistent.
I feel ignored and left out as I quietly cry in my own pain. I am becoming quite skilled at my role as pitiful victim. Perhaps I deserve an Oscar for my acting … only it is no longer acting. I am a method-actress, literally lost in the reality of my role.
Leaving my post as assistant, I make a quick bathroom trip. As I slip back by Keith’s chair, he momentarily grabs my hand, looks into my face, and gives me a deeply reassuring look with light-filled eyes – but he says absolutely nothing. Seconds later I am curled up on my nearby stuffed pillow, sinking deeper and deeper into my own emotional processing.
Act Three: The Need For Love
Keith completely ignores me as I fully immerse myself in the victim energy of my rapidly sinking emotions – the helplessness and the stuck-ness that seem to be spreading their way through my soul. Nearly thirty minutes pass before Keith even acknowledges me.
“Brenda, I’m getting that you need to love yourself.” Keith calls out from across the porch. “Congratulations on being in a very powerful place.”
His stage-play lines sound almost celebratory and condescending.
“Of course I need to love myself.” I pout silently without responding to Keith. “But how can I do that when these dark heavy emotions are hanging over me like a death cloud. I need help to clear the emotions so that I can then access the self-love that I so desperately need to bring in.”
I pout and resist, deeply resenting what I perceive as Keith’s “non-help”. Nevertheless, I make a half-hearted attempt to access self-love.
“Nope, it doesn’t work.” I grumble in my mind. “I still cannot find self-love amidst all this emotional density. I need to work through my painful emotions first … I’ll just wait until Keith helps me.”
Act Four: Being Ignored
Eventually, after what feels like a very long time, Keith finally speaks to me.
“How are you doing, Brenda?” Keith asks with a kind and loving tone.
“I’m still very stuck.” I reply glumly. “I could really use some help in processing these emotions.”
Keith turns away and proceeds to work with another person, then another. After awhile, someone from the street walks in and apologizes for interrupting the ceremony.
“Oh, no.” Keith replies to them. “You are not interrupting. You have arrived at just the perfect time.”
I silently grumble in frustration, feeling in my heart that Keith is grasping at every opportunity to abandon me in my misery. It is obvious to me that he continues to intentionally ignore me while instead working with others.
Act Five: Stolen Emotions
A new friend sees my suffering, and without asking comes over and begins to practice Reiki on me, starting with my back.
“Please stop,” I ask her lovingly. “The pressure from your hands leaning on my back actually hurts a little bit.”
A few minutes later, the same friend finds a new position to sit by me and proceeds to place her hands on my upper back. Feeling guilty for rejecting her, I try to surrender, allowing her to work on me even though I really don’t want anyone touching me right now. Suddenly I feel all of my negative emotions simply disappearing. I know my friend is an empath and has the ability to help people release their emotions – but I feel as if she is fixing me, taking away the very emotions that are my teachers. I need to learn from these emotions before I can allow them to be released or taken from me.
“Please don’t do that.” I again request lovingly, explaining what had just happened with my emotions. “You are very powerful, but I need to process through these issues.”
Keith spends a few minutes coaching my friend on the difference between holding a loving energetic space where you support someone’s empowered emotional processing versus a fixing energy where you try to release them from hurting by taking away their pain.
“Brenda knows exactly what she needs.” Keith reassures my friend.
I now feel completely numb, emotionless, energy-less, motivation-less, helpless, and hopeless.
As Keith proceeds to work with yet-another woman, he glances over at me.
“Brenda, how are you doing?” He again asks with a loving tone.
“I’m still deeply stuck and need your help.” I respond lifelessly.
“What you need is to love yourself.” Keith responds casually before returning to work with the other woman.
Final Act: Complete Rejection
Most people in the group begin to leave around 4:30 p.m., eventually leaving only me and one first-time-at-ceremony woman on the porch.
“Great,” I tell myself. “I will finally have some time to talk to Keith.”
To my dismay and frustration, Keith proceeds to spend the next hour and a half running through what I perceive as one useless meditation after another with this woman – a woman who I meanly judge as not really needing any help at all.
Finally, at around 6:00 p.m., Isaias arrives via tuk-tuk from nearby San Pedro, bringing with him over one hundred pounds of freshly ground cacao.
“OK, it is now time to switch from group mode into chocolate-bagging mode.” Keith suddenly interrupts what he is doing, completely turning his back on me.
Feeling deeply hurt and ignored, I sit up, slip on my flip-flops, and wait for an opportunity to chat briefly with Keith. Tears of deep emotion flow down my cheeks as I patiently wait until Keith turns momentarily to look at me.
“Keith,” I plead sadly. “Are you really not going to help me with these issues?”
“I can check again.” Keith replies while he momentarily closes his eyes to check his own guidance. I interpret his vocal tone as being quite impatient and annoyed with me.
“No Brenda.” Keith continues. “I’m still getting the same answer … that you just need to love yourself for where you are at. There is nothing more I can say or do.”
I give it thirty seconds while I sit miserably on my pillow in a state of complete shock. Isaias sees my tear-filled face and bends over to give me a hug.
“I won’t be helping you bag chocolate this evening.” I mumble through muffled and restrained whimpers.
A few seconds later, I slowly stand up, turn away from the porch, walk down a small flight of rock steps, and leave without saying one more word – not a single goodbye.
Epilog: On My Own Now
As I arrive at home, I close my door, curl up on my bed, and begin to sulk and cry.
“I think I might just name my next blog entry ‘F@#K You, Keith’,” I mumble angrily to myself as deep resentment and self-pity rumble and boil in my heart. Feelings of abandonment and rejection overwhelmingly consume me.
I pound my fist on a pillow for a few minutes, releasing small bursts of anger and tears.
Even though I recognize that I am deeply immersed in my God/separation drama, I am blind and clueless as to how to get out of the deep emotional prison that I seem to have constructed for myself.
“My spiritual teacher is abandoning me, just as many other teachers have done over the years.” I whine to myself.
I am in so much emotional anguish, heartache, and pain. Part of me demands that I pack up all of my belongings and leave San Marcos immediately, the sooner the better.
“I am tired of all of this.” This rejected part of me dramatically screams in pure silence. “I am angry and hurt. How dare Keith treat me that way after all the work I have done on his porch!”
“I don’t know if I can ever go back to his ceremonies again.” I continue crying to myself. “If I do, he will just reject me again and refuse to help me. I guess I am on my own now.”
Spread Your Wings
As I wallow in ruthless pain and misery, my memories drift back to an experience of about ten years ago – a deeply painful experience in which a beloved church leader had deeply rejected me.
After spending nearly four and a half years of my life attempting to get re-baptized in the Mormon faith, the bishop of our local congregation had called me into his office one day and handed me a letter. In the letter, he spelled out devastating news – telling me in no uncertain terms that what I sought after would not be possible under his leadership – applying severe restrictions to my continued participation in the local church activities.
I was devastated, so devastated that it took me several years to work through the overwhelming feelings of relentless victimization and abandonment.
Finally, one day in late 2003, after an amazing healing workshop, I suddenly found the buried treasure. I envisioned myself as a little baby bird, perched atop a thin and tiny branch among the highest reaches a very tall redwood tree.
“What that bishop did for me was to push me off the branch,” I pondered to myself, “forcing me to spread my own wings or die, forcing me to learn to fly on my own profoundly-inspired spiritual path.”
“Had that Bishop not done that to me,” I realized with deep gratitude, “I most certainly would have never found the courage to seek out and follow the beautiful spiritual journey on which I now find myself … and I am eternally grateful for having found such an amazing and personal connection to divine guidance.”
“Is Keith merely pushing me off the branch of a tall tree?” I ponder briefly. “Perhaps it really is time for me to learn how to spread my own wings, yet again.”
Creating My Reality
As I further wallow in painful misery, I reminisce about several bizarre events on the porch as of late – events that taught me in very unique ways that everything that happens on Keith’s porch is indeed my own personal creation of reality.
Yes, everything that occurs on that porch, be it specific people, interruptions, pointless conversation, emotional triggers, or whatever – everything that takes place on that porch seems to bring me profound healing and growth, exactly as if it were created and designed to perfectly meet my specific needs of the moment.
I begin to recognize Keith’s treatment of me today as also being my creation – being an elaborate stage play designed to kick me in the gut for yet-another powerful lesson of growth. Yes, his behavior enabled me to sink deeply into the emotions of separation and rejection by God – of seeming separation and rejection by every recent teacher who ever professed to help me.
As I begin to recognize myself as being fully consumed in my God drama, I am acutely aware that I will definitely not be able to sleep tonight if I don’t somehow get a little emotional closure with Keith – and I want it now.
Deep Painful Memories
At 8:30 p.m., I quietly enter Keith’s porch. Isaias and his young wife both send me huge smiles as I begin to speak.
“I’m not here to help you bag chocolate.” I speak lovingly as I slip onto some cushions over in the corner, quickly hiding behind a table and some boxes.
“How are you doing young lady?” Keith joyfully calls out to me from across the porch.
“I would like to spend ten minutes with you after you are all done here.” I reply quietly.
“We can do that.” Keith lovingly responds before returning to work on the chocolate bagging.
For the next hour I hide in the corner, feeling so deeply emotional that small rivers of tears frequently stream down my cheeks. My heart pulses painfully as heartache grips my soul. I am an emotional zombie as I numbly listen to the music, the giggling, and the playful talking of my dear friends across the porch.
“This is exactly how I felt being totally invisible during much of my life.” I ponder to myself with deep pain-filled recognition. “While everyone’s happy life went on all around me, I just pretended to fit in, all the while invisibly crying.”
Sadness grips my heart.
On The Edge
Finally, at 9:45 p.m., Keith wanders over to my hideout and whispers “Let’s go.”
Seconds later we are down in the garden. I sit on a large rock while Keith stands nearby.
“Brenda,” Keith reassures me, “I was giving you attention all afternoon. I constantly monitored where you were at. Every time that I checked in for guidance, I was told that you were exactly where you needed to be, that what you needed to do is to love yourself, and that there was nothing else for me to do or say.”
Prior to this moment, I had no idea that Keith had even given me the time of day. It does help slightly to know that he really was watching me, but my emotions of rejection right now are so intensely powerful that seeing clearly continues to remain nearly impossible.
During the next hour, I seem to get progressively more confused. Being lost in that confusion, it appears to me as if Keith is talking in circles, not making any sense at all, using nonsensical metaphors that simply do not register with my rational mind. It will yet be several more weeks before I begin to understand this strange confusion.
“You are in spiritual crisis.” Keith warns me. “You are on the edge, about to go down with the ship.”
He has my attention.
“You should consider congratulating yourself for being where you are right now.” Keith continues. “It is a very powerful place to be – but the part of you that is a sinking ship is in total crisis right now, desperately trying to pull you down with it – desperately pulling every trick in the book to get you to dive into negative ego, to project blame onto teachers and the like …”
Then Keith lovingly explains how his guides told him during his own training that he would have to watch many of his dearest friends crash and burn in their own spiritual journeys, never to recover, getting so caught up in their egos and God dramas that they would not make it through their training.
“You are deeply immersed in your God drama.” Keith emphasizes. “You believe that if you give up being pathetic and helpless, then you will lose all hope of getting the help from God that you need.”
“Huh?” I think to myself, feeling even more confused.
It takes quite a while before I realize that Keith is explaining that my hidden belief systems and ego patterns are running the show, telling me that the only way God will pay any attention to me is if I am all messed up and needing help … that if I move into a fully empowered state then God will no longer help me and I will be abandoned, out on my own.
Know Thyself
“But all I wanted to do today was to process my feelings of burnout, stuck-ness, and fear about ripping the rules out of the book.” I try to explain to Keith.
“This not something you can process.” Keith firmly responds. “You are struggling with your God/separation drama. What you need to do is to know thyself – to be aware of what you are doing – to be aware of your crisis mode – to be aware of that part of you that is trying to get your attention, trying to pull you down – that part of you that is mostly in control right now.”
“Send a little love to the part of you that is sinking,” Keith continues. “Don’t reject it. Instead, watch it and learn about its antics and fears and feelings.”
“And you need to observe your patterns of behavior, your beliefs, and your projections.” Keith continues to guide me. “This is how you will get through this process – by learning about the patterns you run, and about how you respond to them.”
Keith’s words are not resonating with me, yet I desperately try to understand and believe what he is trying to communicate. Confusion and chaotic energies still overwhelm my ability to think. Something in my brain is so powerfully resisting that I cannot remember hardly anything that Keith says. It is as if my brain is in auto-erase mode, refusing to allow me to absorb anything I hear.
In my present state of brain shutdown, any attempt at clarification simply causes me more confusion. My perception tells me that Keith is turning all of my words around, not listening to what I am trying to say, and is instead deeply overreacting to the seriousness of my crisis.
Yet I trust Keith implicitly, and right now my own mind is so frazzled that I cannot trust myself at all. I cannot think clearly. I want to run away and scream.
“Keith,” I beg, “once I make it through this process, as soon as I return to clarity in my mind, will you please tell me all of this all over again? You have told me so many things tonight, many of them time and time again – yet even now I can hardly remember anything that you have said.”
“Of course I will.” Keith lovingly responds.
The Script-Writer
Deep down, a powerful part of me continues to feel angry and totally justified in projecting onto Keith – yet another part again points out the powerful paradox.
I have indeed manifested a real-life learning scenario in which my teacher seems to have proven to me that I will no longer be helped at a certain point in my path. This seems to be a frequently repeating pattern that I run – one that I even ran during my Sun Course and the subsequent two-month holistic healing course.
To my emotional ego-self – the part that remains firmly rooted in the driver seat – this seems to be an absolute fact. This panic-stricken part of me would still find it extremely satisfying to immediately cease my daily visits to Keith’s porch, to pack my bags, and to leave San Marcos – the sooner the better.
But as my detached observer self – a weak but awakening part of my awareness – I clearly recognize the self-sabotaging pattern. Today’s unrehearsed stage play has brilliantly pointed out this pattern of self-created failure – a pattern that I am increasingly growing tired of running.
Yes, at some not-yet-understood level of my being, I have to admit that I am the one who created the script – this real-life re-enactment of my God Drama.
But even with a basic awareness of this fact, I continue to feel utterly powerless in releasing myself from the treacherous hold that the emotions of rejection continue to maintain over my soul.
I am exhausted … I want to cry … I want to project … I want to run.
But I also know in my heart that I will stay.
I am very proud of myself. I know Keith is right when he says that I am at a beautiful stage of growth. I recognize this as a powerful opportunity to embrace my light and let go of excuses – excuses that are screaming for attention all around me.
Endings and Beginnings
The night is late, and the more Keith and I talk in circles, the less I seem to understand or remember. I simply cannot comprehend how my brain can be so utterly useless in the middle of such a major emotional crisis.
At 10:45 p.m., Keith offers to walk me home. I barely speak during our ten minute stroll through the darkness of San Marcos.
As I stand numbly on my doorstep, I feel as I have been swimming in a thick muddy pool of chaos and confusion. In fact, even though I now feel relaxed and peaceful, my mind continues to do exhausting laps in that lost and hopeless pool.
“Thank you Keith,” I speak from sheer exhaustion. “Thank you for being so patient with me in my confused state tonight. Thank you for trying to help me understand what I am doing.”
“I honor what you are doing.” Keith responds, simultaneously bowing to emphasize his point. “I will see you on Wednesday.”
As I look briefly into Keith’s eyes, his whole face appears to be glowing with unconditional love and support. His eyes literally glow.
In spite of the anger and confusion, something tells me that come Wednesday I will definitely be back on Keith’s porch.
“But how will I make it through Tuesday all by myself?” I ponder with an overwhelming feeling of doubt.
The idea of a day alone, wallowing in my own stuff, is not at the top of my wish list.
Good Intentions – Miserable Day
After what turns out to be a surprisingly restful sleep, I arise on Tuesday morning with the best of intentions. I will hike up on the nearby hill and do what has always brought me back to a state of divine connection. I will meditate and commune with nature, I will sing inspiring songs, I will repeat my mission statement, and I will simply melt into the beauty around me.
At 7:45 a.m. I arrive at the top of the hill. The benches on which I had planned to sit are occupied. Nearby, a group of nearly twenty people are gathered on a rocky mound, some singing songs or playing guitar, others noisily chatting and playing – all of them deeply annoying me.
I follow a treacherous loose-mulch covered trail down to the edge of a cliff, away from the distracting noise, clinging to the trunk and branches of a small tree – the tree being the only thing preventing me from falling to the sharp rocks below.
As a wave of dizziness nearly consumes me, I ponder to myself “Perhaps I am not sitting in the best of places.”
Soon, after carefully retracing my steps to more firm soil, I take a trail down to the surface of the lake. Still I cannot find the isolation I crave. It seems as if the Universe is taunting me, refusing to give me what I think I need.
For hours I sit in my disconnected and unstable state. When I attempt to sing, the lyrics and tunes fall flat and emotionless. When I try to inspire myself by repeating the beautiful words of my mission statement, I instead feel like a blatant hypocrite. My beloved mission statement feels dead. I am in a deep and major funk.
After three hours of frustration, I return home, isolating myself in my bedroom, listening to Richard Thomas recite beautiful quotes from A course In Miracles (on my IPOD). This temporarily helps, but soon I am back in the tearful sobs, reliving the painful rejection of my bishop some ten years ago – pondering about forgiveness, projection, anger, judgment, and the concept of creation versus victimization.
At the rational mind level, I know all the right answers – the intellectual reasons why I should feel happy right now – but try as I might, I continue to wallow in the deep emotional pain of feeling rejected by, and angry towards Keith.
I listen to more Richard Thomas. He no longer helps. I watch a movie to distract myself. The movie only brings on depression. I head out to a restaurant for burgers and fries, enjoying an unplanned encounter and discussion with my new friend Lisa. The couple of hours we spend in enlightened conversation seem to lift my spirits – but still the underlying emotions persist in their powerful hypnotic effects.
Yes, Tuesday turns into a bust. No matter what I try, I can only reach an intellectual understanding of my state. The painful emotions continue to sustain a relentless hold on my heart.
An Act of Trust
Wednesday morning is no better. Yes, I had great dreams during the night and start out with a wonderful feeling of emotional stability – yet something inside is still yanking me downward.
By 9:30 a.m. I am again swirling around in the toilet of despair. I put on another movie, desperately seeking some type of emotional distraction. As the movie ends at noon, I feel no better, continuing to struggle so deeply that I am not sure I am capable of going to the chocolate ceremony that starts in just a few minutes.
I know I will burst into tears at the first emotional trigger – and I am desperately fearful of showing up on the porch, making a complete and utter emotional fool of myself, and then still not receiving the help that I need.
I want to believe that Keith will help me, but a part of me whispers tauntingly, “Brenda, Keith will never help you again … he already told you that … what you need to do now is to simply love yourself.”
In an act of pure will and complete trust, I gather my bag, shawl, and water bottle, and begin slowly walking to the eastern edge of San Marcos. I don’t know what else to do.
Opening My Heart
“How are you doing?” Keith queries as I briefly greet him in his kitchen before the start of ceremony.
“Semi-stable, but very emotional,” I reply. “I am extremely tentative about whether or not I am even capable of being here.”
As I take my seat on the porch, I try to be outgoing and friendly to the newcomers, learning names, making small talk and the like … but as soon as group starts I dive right into my process, deeply terrified about where it might take me.
As Keith begins explaining to the group that he runs a school for healers and light workers, I am sitting on a large pillow by his kitchen door, my head bent forward with tears already trickling uncontrollably down my saturated cheeks.
“One of my students,” Keith continues to explain about his school, “is going through such a deep process right now that she is not even sure if she wants to be here or to ever come back. She is in the middle of very powerful work … very deep emotional work.”
My tears begin to unravel into sobs as I listen while Keith continues to talk lovingly about my ongoing plight. All of the newcomers on the porch have obviously figured out by now that that I am the struggling soul about whom Keith is referring.
Keith’s loving words deeply warm my heart. His profound acknowledgment of understanding exactly where I am at – his tender and gentle manner in explaining my process to others – gives me all of the courage I need to begin opening my shut-down heart even further, tenderly opening me up to the next step of my healing.
Stop Trying
As Keith begins to work with others on an individual basis, he soon comes over to work with me.
“I’m trying to do what you told me.” I whimper to Keith. “I’m trying to bring in more self love.”
“Stop trying.” Keith responds surprisingly. “Instead, just allow yourself to feel what you are feeling.”
“How long do I have to just feel it?” I respond with confused exhaustion. “I have been deeply unstable for two days. I can’t handle this. I want to love myself, but there is so much bottled up emotion inside that I am unable to access the love. I need to rid myself of the emotion first in order to make space for the love.”
Ooohhhmmming for Anger
As Keith begins to do some empath training with others, I immerse myself deeper into my process of “Know Thyself.”
A deep internal feeling tells me that I need to access my anger – my anger at what I am feeling – my anger at my dysfunction – my anger at all of the negative ego crap that is still pulling me into wanting to be a victim.
Soon, remembering several experiences earlier this year where vocal toning assisted me in finding my power, I begin to quietly make a faint “Ohm” sound, trying not to bother others around me, while desperately wanting to access the needed internal power to push me out of the rut in which I now find myself.
God Drama Explained
Soon Keith pulls group attention onto what I am doing. He shares a few personal details with the group about his own journey with the God/Diety/Separation drama. I again find great satisfaction and relief in understanding that even my teacher had to pass through similar periods of anger at God and teachers, feeling rejected and separate, helpless, hopeless, and futile.
“You feel like if you give up your pathetic behavior,” Keith explains to the group, “that you will never get God’s help – that the only way to get help and attention is if you are so pathetic and dysfunctional that God will have to listen and help.”
I easily recognize myself in this statement. Though my pathetic victimized behavior is not consciously invoked, it is definitely a programmed behavioral/belief-system loop in which I find myself – something that negative ego is desperately trying to get me to play out so that I will not move further in my path toward awakening and oneness.
Keith spends considerable time explaining how most everyone has their separation dramas that they play out with God – their individual ways of scamming themselves so that they can project blame outward. Our divine source – God/ Goddess/ All That Is/ Guides/ Angels/ Divine Being/ Light/ or whatever else you might call it – has always been patiently waiting for us to wake up.
It is not our Source that refuses to help us; it is us that project blame outward, refusing to drop the lies of our own internal programming and belief systems. The truth simply is, and that truth is waiting for us – but to recognize it we have to first drop those lies.
Please, No Fixing
While “ooohhhmmming” lightly, the stored anger begins to surface. When it finally bursts forth, I release the anger in deep waves of painful, tear-drenched sobs. At one point of the intense physically-exhausting process, I reach a familiar state of deep nausea – feeling a strong need to vomit out the remaining emotional densities that haunt me inside.
As I begin to bring in the light, I gradually experience a lightening in my heart and solar plexus, feeling stronger and more energized – yet I am still very weak and tentative. Another deep level of emotional release soon surfaces. A nearly-continuous flow of extensive tears and muffled sobs results in a huge pile of discarded tissue on the ground beside me.
Right at the depth of one painful outburst, a man in the group comes over to comfort and fix me. I can only assume that he feels a deep desire to help the poor woman in distress. As I feel his hands touching mine, I open my eyes and look into his.
“No … please no … please don’t do that.” I reject him.
I don’t have the strength to explain why – but I know that this well-intentioned gesture will only distract me from the powerful emotional release that I am desperate to complete.
Keith rushes to my aid and lovingly explains to the man about the misguided energy of fixing, and how it is actually disempowering to someone like me who is deeply engaged in a powerful process of needed emotional release.
“I don’t need sympathy and someone to soothe my pain.” I speak up after Keith finishes his kind words. “I am deeply in my power and want to release these emotions. I don’t want to merely calm and stuff them back down.”
Empath Assistance
As my deep emotional release finally comes to completion, Keith returns to complete the empath training that he had begun earlier, using me as a perfect subject to help others in the group who are learning to understand their energetic abilities. I have released enough emotion on my own, having learned and felt enough that I will now allow others to help me.
Placing me in the middle of the room, Keith guides several beautiful people in helping them to help me in releasing the remainder of the emotional densities that I am ready to release from my field. As the process unfolds, I feel a deep sense of emotional relief. My head and heart chakra seem to open up and to vibrate much more clearly.
“Many of the emotions that you felt as you were helping Brenda were not even from this lifetime.” Keith takes an opportunity to teach the others.
Keith’s comment both surprises and comforts me as I recognize that I am digging deeper than I realized.
After a short break, Keith feels guided to have people further assist me with a second intense wave of energy release. During the process, the vast majority of pain remaining in my solar plexus seems to simply melt and disappear. I am deeply grateful for the peace-bringing assistance.
My Private Hell
Then Keith guides the group in another exercise that he occasionally uses as a teaching aide. Entering into meditation, I find myself in what I could only describe as my own private hell. I feel myself in a dark and cold cavern. Bones litter the floor, there is absolutely no light, and there is no way in or out. I am trapped in a place of futility and hopelessness.
“I want everyone to walk with me into Brenda’s private hell.” Keith guides the rest of the group. “Since you are walking in, you will all know the way out. This is Brenda’s hell, not your own. She is stuck there, but you will easily be able to leave.”
Keith continues to explain to the group that they are not here in my private hell to grab hold of me in order to drag me out. They are simply here to place their hands on my shoulder, to make their loving presence known, to let me know that there is indeed a way out, and to ask me if I would like to follow them.
As Keith guides the group into my hell hole, I imagine a hidden staircase unexpectedly opening up from above. When it is time in the meditation for me to walk out with the group, I imagine myself walking slowly up the stairs behind them.
Often, in this type of meditation I have heard Keith tell the group that only once in all of his years has someone not walked back out with the group.
“Can you feel her coming with us?” Keith asks those in the group who are empaths-in-training.
With my eyes remaining closed, I am quite surprised as I hear the feedback. Everyone unanimously agrees that I am NOT following them.
“But I am walking, desperately trying to climb out with you.” I tell Keith with confusion.
“A small part of you is remaining behind, not coming with the group.” Keith replies in a concerned tone. “Go back down the stairs and find that piece. Do whatever you have to do to yank it free and to bring it with you. Do not let it stay there.”
As I go back into the dark cavern, I discover a frightened and scared puppy. The little guy is refusing to follow me – terrified of what might be up those stairs. I grab the shaking little puppy in my arms, squeeze it tightly and, ignoring its protesting squirms, I return to climb the staircase.
“Is she coming with us now?” Keith again asks the empaths in the group.
I am thrilled to hear that they all now agree that I have followed them out of my private hell.
Filling With Light
As I visualize myself stepping off the top step of the hidden staircase, I feel a sensation of light, both inside and out – light that comforts and reassures me.
Embracing that warm sensation, I again meditate on bringing in more light and more love to fill the space that was previously occupied by the now-released emotional densities. Gradually, a feeling of physical strength returns to my body. As the process comes to a completion, I recognize that the energy and power in my heart seems to be stronger than I have ever before felt.
“I am free.” I rejoice with love.
My heart is on fire with loving power. For the remainder of the ceremony, I simply glow and share that light with others. I have no illusions about being done with my journey, but I do recognize that I have completed a very powerful step.
Looking Back
As I look back and integrate the profound growth experiences of this painfully difficult process – a three-day process that began exactly seven weeks ago today – I do so from a vantage point of bright clarity.
On that excruciatingly difficult Monday of March 21, I can now easily discern how Keith did nothing but shine love and light to me throughout the entire day. As I began that day in a state of separation and exhaustion, I was already deeply immersed in an inspired journey into negative ego – a journey that I believe was personally architected and manifest by my own higher consciousness.
As the day unfolded, I was blind to the love flowing all around me. Instead, all I could see were the emotions of separation and abandonment that were surfacing. That ego-part of me absolutely knew that attempting to deal with these emotions on my own was hopeless and futile, doing everything possible to distract, confuse, and convince me of my smallness and separation from Source. As he always does so eloquently, Keith simply played along, following my energy, giving me exactly the inspired help that I needed to go into and through this learning process.
Keith is correct when he reminds me that I was literally on the edge of quitting, on the brink of succumbing to the ranting and raving of that negative-ego part of me and of going down with the ship. I was projecting so much blame outward that I was blind to the love and guidance all around me.
But I am still here. Yes, a huge ship did sink in the middle of March, but I am happy and giggling to report that I was not a passenger.
My journey toward awakening continues. Occasionally I still find myself slipping into patterns of confusion, chaos, self-doubt, futility, and hopelessness – but I am happy to report that these loops shorten in duration each and every time, while the light and awareness in my soul continues to expand.
I cannot wait to continue sharing this amazing journey as I now begin the passionate task of attempting to rapidly catch up in my writing.
Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved