I continue to be blown away by the synchronous nature in which events seem to unfold so beautifully.
Wednesday afternoon, May 25, as the cacao ceremony is preparing to get underway, I deeply struggle with emotions of confusion and inadequacy. It seems that tomorrow I will be writing about one of the most crazy and bizarre days that I have ever experienced on Keith’s porch – a profoundly confusing day that left me completely questioning my sanity.
(Full details of that April 15 day can be found in a May 26, 2011 posting titled: A Question Of Sanity.)
As fate would have it, a young man shows up on Keith’s porch today – all because he bumped into me on the street. He is one of the small group-of-five who participated in that wild April afternoon. This is the first time in several weeks that this young man has come to a ceremony. To my delight the first hour of conversation (while the chocolate absorbs into our bodies), synchronously centers on the events of that day.
The conversation brings me a great deal of closure, allowing me to regroup and re-center myself for the difficult writing task at hand – a daunting piece of writing that causes terror to rise up in my soul whenever I think about trying to begin.
An Ego Paradox
As the main portion of ceremony begins, Keith simply zones out, drifting away in meditation.
“Obviously he is following my energy.” I ponder after thirty minutes of pure silence on the porch.
I am deeply immersed in an internal battle about the nature of ego, particularly pondering the question of whether or not it is appropriate to ask for help.
“Is it ego causing me to believe that I need help?” I ponder. “Or is it ego telling me that I am strong and independent and that I shouldn’t need to ask for help?”
As I ponder this strange paradox, no one on the porch makes any effort to speak or to ask questions. I have an eerie feeling that Keith is quietly waiting for me to make the first move.
Into The Resistance
“Keith,” I finally interrupt, “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course,” Keith responds with a smile, continuing to keep his eyes closed in meditation.
“I’m feeling slightly triggered by our discussions of what happened here on the porch on April 15 … and I am still dealing with this intense internal feud of self-hatred between heart and solar plexus.”
“I am stuck and don’t know where to begin or how to proceed.” I ask for advice. “At the same time, I’m recognizing lots of ego distractions – noises, doubts, feelings of failure, wandering mind, etc…”
“I know this is all resistance and defense mechanisms,” I finish, “but I just don’t know how to move past it. Can you help?”
“Go into the resistance and be with it.” Keith responds with minimal guidance.
Stubborn and Self-reliant
For another twenty minutes, complete silence continues to consume the porch.
Still floundering in self doubt, I notice that most of the resistance I feel is centered on the topic of asking for help.
“I am supposed to do this on my own!” The voice in my head relentlessly pounds me. “Keith gave me instructions … I need to find the answer myself.”
This stubborn voice feels like ego – a voice insisting that I have to be strong, self-sufficient, and to not bother others with my needs. Again I struggle with the paradox of asking for help.
Good To Ask
“Keith,” I interrupt the silence, “can you help me understand when it is appropriate to ask for help – about whether it is ego that tells me I need help, or ego that tells me I shouldn’t need help?”
“I have often heard you say, ‘I’m one smart cookie, but I could never have figured this out on my own.’” I tell Keith. “Today I know that I cannot do this alone, but something inside insists that I am supposed to try – that I shouldn’t ask for help.”
Keith gently reassures me that it is good to ask for help.
Revolving Seats
“Close your eyes and grab your little girl.” Keith immediately begins to guide me. “Go to the conference room and invite your masculine and feminine energies to join you, one on each side of the table.”
“Now take a look,” Keith continues, “and tell me which one is on which side of the table?”
“It doesn’t make sense,” I reply with confusion, “but the masculine energy is on the left, and the feminine is on the right. It seems like it should be the other way around.”
“Now bring your heart and solar plexus into the conference room to join you.” Keith guides the meditation into another interesting twist.
“Now, which sides of the table are they sitting on?” Keith asks.
“The heart is on the left, with the masculine energy,” I respond with even more confusion, “and the solar plexus is on the right with the feminine energy.”
Bring It Forward
Almost immediately, several others on the porch jump into the conversation to share where their own energies are at. My first reaction is to resent the intrusion – but then I realize “Hey, I am creating this … let’s see what it triggers.”
“What if you went back as a child and integrated the loving energy that you needed from your parents?” one woman suggests to me. “You could do it in a healthy way and then bring that energetic integration forward to the present.”
“Brenda, did you get that?” Keith asks me.
“Actually, no,” I respond to Keith’s unexpected question. “I don’t remember a thing that she just said. It is as if I just went into my childhood shutdown energy and completely zoned out in confusion.”
“Remember what it means when that confusion kicks in?” Keith inquires.
“Yeah,” I respond, still slightly confused, remembering how my sanity was questioned on April 15. “It means that I am getting close to something really important.”
My friend then repeats her suggestion about going back as a child, integrating loving energy and bringing that forward.
Confusion again taps me on the shoulder. I feel as if what my friend just said makes complete psychological sense, at a rational mind level, but her words do not resonate with my heart in any way.
A Brief Glimpse
For another five or ten minutes, many others on the porch jump in to give me boatloads of loving advice and feedback. All of the wisdom that I hear makes complete sense – yet all of it feels like well-intentioned rational mind advice that is trying to drown out and invalidate what I feel and know to be true in my own heart.
I suddenly recognize profound parallels behind what is happening here on the porch right this minute and what happened on April 15. It is the same thing that happened to me as a child – only this time I will not stifle my heart-knowing in an effort to follow the rational minds of others.
“I hear everyone’s beautiful input,” I finally interrupt with love, “and I agree with you all … but I have already been doing everything that you are suggesting at the rational mind level … and I have been doing it for many years.”
“Trust me when I tell you that I am deeply empowered about all of this when it comes to the level of logic and rational mind.” I continue speaking with deep loving appreciation.
“But what I am experiencing today is much deeper that logic. I am dealing with energies buried in the subconscious mind – energies that make no sense at all to the rational mind. I need to go into my subconscious and deal with these energies there. Doing this on a logical head level will solve absolutely nothing.”
I simply giggle inside as I recognize how today is providing a brief and profound glimpse into how I was gradually and ever-so-subtly guided into shutting down my own heart. As a child, I was bombarded with logic and religious teachings that constantly invalidated what my tiny heart knew to be true.
Trading Places
A deep feeling of understanding and empowerment swells in my heart as I again turn my attention to Keith, seeking deeper answers – answers that transcend logic.
“Go back to the conference room.” Keith immediately guides me. “What side are the energies on now?
“It doesn’t make any sense,” I respond with more confusion, “but I now feel the masculine energy on the right side and the feminine on the left. This is where I would have expected them to be all along … but why did they trade places now?”
“This is you as an adult in the now.” Keith fills me in. “The seating arrangement before was you in your youth.”
“What does that mean to you?” Keith inquires.
Fight To The Death
The answer is now very clear to me. As a child and young man, the masculine energy was desperately fighting for survival, living in the heart, doing everything it could to protect itself and to fight-off the overwhelming feminine mutiny. During those first twenty-eight years of my life, the feminine energy was hated, despised, abandoned, and sentenced to exile – all in a desperate attempt to destroy those evil and satanic transgendered feelings.
When I began to integrate the feminine into my life, that feminine energy finally succeeded in overthrowing the evil-tyrant masculine energy, rightfully taking her proper place in my heart. Her leadership eventually allowed me to fully transition, to achieve the glorious peaceful blessing of being my true self. But in the process, this feminine energy sought revenge, exiling the masculine energy, hating him for having suppressed her during all of those long and painful years. He could definitely not be trusted.
Yes, it seems that I have identified the source of this intense self hatred – this inexplicable deeply-rooted family feud. There has been an entire lifetime of hatred on both sides – masculine hating feminine, feminine hating masculine, both feeling horribly repressed and victimized by the other, both desperately fighting for survival, both believing that only one can ultimately survive.
It seems that they both believe the statement that: “As long as my enemy remains alive, I am in serious danger.”
Reconciliation Refused
Immediately I flashback to a private session with Keith in October 2010 – an experience documented in a blog titled “Hidden Treasures”. During that profound session I had uncovered and dealt with intense self-hatred. Through the combination of many synchronous events, I discovered an angry masculine energy, still living inside of me. That angry male energy, perhaps in his late twenties, was livid about how the feminine had overthrown him, kicking him out of his body, destroying his life and taking away his family. During that beautiful process, the masculine found great peace and healing with the feminine.
But today I realize that the feminine continues to totally despise the masculine. Intuitively I realize that the masculine is ready to attempt some type of reconciliation, he wants to make peace, to love, and to forgive. But the feminine absolutely refuses to even talk.
A Weapon And A Cake
“Brenda,” Keith resumes guiding me. “There is something in the middle of the table. What is it?”
“I have to laugh, but I am feeling a birthday cake and a meat cleaver.” I explain with confusion. “The blade of the large knife is deeply buried into the wooden surface of the table top – as if put there with anger and force.”
“It doesn’t make sense,” I continue talking to Keith. “I feel like the knife is a weapon that could be used in the ongoing feud – but the birthday cake implies celebration.”
It is not until later that I see the knife as simply a knife – a very handy tool to cut the cake – and the cake is indeed an opportunity to celebrate the fact that perhaps we might be close to some type of reconciliation.
Gender Boxes
As everyone on the porch suddenly begins to explore their own inner masculine and feminine journeys, Keith moves on to work with someone else.
Within thirty minutes, the entire ceremony evolves into further mental-level conversation about gender and societal norms, childhood conditioning, shutdown, gender programming, parental expectations, and how we are all taught to live in a binary box – being either a little boy or a little girl – with most of us being highly warned about the evils of not conforming to the box into which we were born.
This is a beautiful opportunity to educate people about gender stereotypes and expectations – but I am interested in meditation, and my meditation seems to be going nowhere.
Reach Out And Touch
As ceremony seems to begin winding down, I again focus, desperately hoping to bring some type of closure to the bizarre inner battle taking place in my subconscious mind. I dream of future healing, of reconciliation between these two beautiful sides of myself.
“How do I facilitate this reconciliation?” I beg Keith for guidance.
“You don’t.” Keith responds lovingly. “You simply set your intention and then allow whatever happens … trusting that the flow as directed by Higher Self will move the process forward for you. You need simply follow and allow.”
As I sit at the end of the conference table, I feel guided to initiate a small negotiation.
“Won’t you two briefly hug each other?” I ask.
Resistance from the feminine side is quite severe.
“Would you consider the possibility of reaching across the table to momentarily hold hands?” I follow up.
The masculine seems willing, placing his hands palm-up on the table. The feminine starts to reach out, but then freezes in panic, quickly withdrawing her hands.
In response to a flash of intuition, I ask the masculine energy to place his hands palm-down at the middle of the table.
“Can you at least reach out with your fingertips and briefly touch the back of his hands?” I ask the feminine energy with deep love.
Movie Metaphors
I am delighted as I begin to see a very clear visual image during this meditation. While the male hands remain palm-down at the center of the table, I watch as two female hands reach forward, briefly hesitating. The moment that the feminine fingers finally touch the back of the masculine hands, something completely unexpected takes me to an entire new level of understanding.
To my shock, I actually witness the man’s hands triple in size while at the same time transforming into the paws of a huge ugly beast. Simultaneously, the woman’s hands grow smaller and increasingly delicate.
Suddenly, the metaphor of “Beauty and the Beast” powerfully floods into my consciousness. Memories of the Disney movie begin to fill me with profound insights as the ceremony draws to conclusion.
He Let Her Go
Late Wednesday evening, I treat myself to a private viewing of the Walt Disney version of Beauty and the Beast.
I am blown away by the stereotypes that fit my situation so perfectly.
Gaston is the stereotypical masculine jerk, handsome and strong, but completely into himself, clueless as to how to have a real intimate relationship. Try as he might to get Belle’s attention, she rejects him.
The Beast, while once having been a masculine jerk, now has a loving and vulnerable heart – but his appearance is repulsive. He is so afraid of rejection that his guard is up, and his old behaviors form a wall around his heart for protection.
Belle is a free spirit, refusing to be a normal citizen, instead insisting on following her heart and dreams. She will not settle for Gaston – but is initially quite terrified by the appearance and angry defensive behavior of the Beast.
In the end, after they become friends, the Beast insists that Belle leave to go rescue her father, in essence sacrificing himself.
“I let her go.” The Beast tells his friends in the castle, knowing that his fate of forever-remaining a beast has now been sealed.
“I had to let her go … because I love her.” The Beast continues.
A Handsome Prince
Suddenly, I realize that my own masculine energy has essentially “let me go” – releasing the feminine to go find herself, hoping that perhaps she might return one day to discover how loving that the Beast really is – now that he has let-go-of and processed his own anger and self-hatred.
“I think that the beautiful Belle in my heart is very near to embracing that loving and forgiving Beast in my solar plexus.” I ponder while drifting off toward sleep.
“She will be quite happy when she discovers that her biggest fear is actually just a handsome Prince. Maybe we will be eating some of that birthday cake after all.”
Return To Confusion
Early Thursday morning, before meditation, I again engage Keith in a quick discussion regarding my confusing paradox about the interactions between ego and the concept of asking versus not-asking for help.
“You are focusing in on the wrong half of the equations,” Keith tells me.
“On the one hand you begin your question stating ‘asking-for-help = this’” Keith attempts to clarify, “and on the other hand you state that ‘not-asking-for-help = that’.”
“Rather than questioning the left side of the equation,” Keith continues, “You need to look at the ‘this’ and the ‘that’ side. That is where your answer lies.”
Keith acts like what he has just told me is extremely clear, but I am extremely confused – feeling more lost in his words than I have felt in a very long time. I think I understand, but every time I attempt to get Keith to clarify, to state things in a slightly different way, I feel as if he gives me exactly the same answer, while impatiently implying that I am just not listening.
I feel like an invalidated little child, feeling as if my teacher is intentionally crazy-making with me – intentionally manipulating me.
A Beautiful Taste
Suddenly I realize the beautiful synchronicity. I am creating this.
“Keith is just playing along with my energy.” I giggle. “He is simply following my flow, creating exactly what I need right now before going home to write.”
“In just two hours I will be writing about a very confusing little child who was invalidated and made to feel crazy – all by loving parents.” I smile with huge recognition. “He has again given me a beautiful reminder – a beautiful synchronous taste of how I felt on April 15 – and a beautiful taste of how I felt as a child.”
What perfect timing to help me go home and write with power and clear emotion.
Drowning In The Lake
Finally, after I successfully re-center myself in the present reality, fully giggling as to how the Universe has given me this beautiful gift, Keith provides a simple answer that makes so much sense.
“You believe that if you go down to the lake you will drown.” Keith shares with me. “But you also believe that if you do not go down to the lake that you will die of thirst.”
“The question is not about whether you should or should-not go down to the lake,” Keith clarifies brilliantly, “but whether the options about drowning or dying-of-thirst are indeed your only true and possible outcomes.”
Sometimes asking questions is a manifestation of ego,” I think to myself with clarity, “and sometimes not-asking questions implies ego. But there are many questions that can be asked or not-asked where ego is not the least bit involved.”
Trust The Flow
To my shock and surprise, as morning meditation finally starts I begin to cry – in fact I whimper profusely through most of the entire hour and a half.
I uncontrollably vacillate in and out of the confusion to which Keith has so eloquently helped me to again access – all the while pondering the daunting task of writing about this horrible confusion when I still do not fully understand it myself.
“I might get lost in that confusion again.” I think to myself as I ponder the fear of opening the door and stepping inside. “What if I discover that I really am a crazy fool?”
I want to find clarity. I want to write. I want to uncover the truth and heal whatever may come up – but for some reason, the task is frightening.
“Ego hides behind your fears.” Internal Jedi voices remind me. “Go into the fear Brenda. You can do this without losing yourself.”
“Be the observer as you write.” My heart whispers. “Allow yourself to feel the emotions but don’t lose yourself in them. Whatever happens will happen. If you write and bawl your brains out, so be it. If you write and giggle all day, so be it.”
“Just write to heal yourself, and leave the rest up to the flow.”
Perfectly Present To Talk
After having disappeared for several weeks, Serg unexpectedly shows up about half-way through morning meditation.
The Universe never ceases to amaze me. There were three other people (all men) on that porch with Keith and I on April 15 – all had previously shared that I was the one who appeared to be crazy as the confusing events of that day unfolded.
Two of those men had disappeared form the porch for several weeks – and now, in just the last two days, the very days in which I struggle to prepare for writing about that day, both of these men magically show up – both being fully present to provide feedback and to help me understand what happened (from their viewpoints) on that bizarre and confusing day.
In fact, of the five who were present on that crazy day, four of us are now present to talk about it as soon as meditation finishes.
A Question Of Sanity
During this post-meditation conversation, the other man from the porch that day tells me, “I thought Keith was being quite hard-assed with you during parts of the ceremony.”
“Then I am not crazy.” I giggle with pure relief. “Yes, I did go into some crazy emotions that day, but at least one person has finally verbally acknowledged that Keith was beautifully playing his side of the script – that he was indeed badgering me quite forcefully, in a very hard-assed way at times.”
Keith then goes on to reiterate that he was indeed playing along in the role of an authoritative parent – not knowing where it would all lead, but knowing that the role had to be played.
As I walk home from meditation, the confusing tears are gone, having been replaced by deep clarity and gratitude. Feeling filled with confidence and inspiration, I quickly immerse myself in writing a powerful piece about how a young child could be pushed to the edge of insanity – all by happy and caring parents who were simply doing their loving duty.
Ego Pattern Recognized
After posting another beautiful piece of writing on Friday, I begin to recognize a disturbing pattern. It seems that after beautiful days of inspiration and energy-filled writing, I often seem to sink into depressive doldrums at almost the exact moment that I press the publish button.
As of today (May 27) I have published my two-hundredth posting – a post that was published at two minutes before 2:00 p.m., exactly two weeks and two days before the completion of two years of traveling. I giggle at the beautiful abundance of twos – but soon sink again into that confusing state of ‘now what?’
I am tired and headachy, and my body wants to shut down. I feel no energy, and hear inner voices whispering that I am a failure, that no one will bother reading what I have written, blah, blah, blah.
Wow It Worked
I listen to these powerful voices for nearly an hour before I have had enough of ego’s venom. Quickly entering meditation, I as the observer sit on the front row of my theater and imagine watching my personality-self struggling with these ego voices up on the screen.
“No, don’t fall for it.” I hear my observer-self cheering on the personality-self up on that movie screen. “This is an ego ploy … don’t fall for it … you will not fail but you do need to wake up to what is happening … come on, you can do it.”
To my giggles and delight, I soon return to my happy and energetic self, spending a delightful evening of reading, watching videos, and meditation.
“Wow, it worked,” I congratulate myself for catching ego in another popular trick.
As I drift off to sleep I again ponder the beautiful synchronicities that continue to fill my life – the most recent ones amazingly coinciding with my writing for the week.
Sanity Revisited
“Yes, I am quite sane.” I pat myself on the back for the beautiful clarity that overflows my soul.
On April 15, I did indeed create my reality – a bizarre reality in which Keith played an unscripted standing-ovation performance of a parent lovingly destroying my fragile sense of sanity.
On Wednesday morning, May 25, the Universe did indeed orchestrate the situation where I unexpectedly bumped into a young friend on my way to the ceremony – causing him to think “I bet Brenda is going to a chocolate ceremony. I think I will go too.” Twenty minutes later, a beautiful hour-long conversation unfolds that takes me back to April 15. Yes indeed, all of this was created for my benefit.
Also on Wednesday, I personally manifested a situation in the chocolate ceremony – a situation that took me right back to the confusing subtleties of shutting down a heart because of the logical well-intentioned words of others.
When I lovingly stood up to that voice, exerting the confidence of my heart, I was subsequently blessed with deep clarity about how a children’s fairy tale perfectly describes my life-long hate-filled feud between heart and solar plexus.
Early Thursday morning, I personally created a conversation in which Keith would momentarily and unknowingly treat me like a child, perfectly reminding me of my writing task at hand.
Also on Thursday morning, I did indeed manifest that Serg would show up for meditation after three long weeks of absence from the porch. The conversation that unfolds as a result was tailored perfectly for my needs, ending with a little burst of sanity-inducing clarity that gave me exactly the inner confidence that I needed to write.
And yes, the movie Revolver was written and produced precisely because I needed to watch it some day – so that I would have the understanding to catch ego in his tricks … to say “I am onto you” …
Last, and the most profound fact of all, is that “I am absolutely sane, and I believe that everything I have written above is one hundred percent certifiably TRUE.”
I love creating my reality – and it is time to eat some birthday cake. I sure hope I can get that meat cleaver out of the table top.
Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved