Early Wednesday morning I arrive at Keith’s porch, eager to help with preparations for a small private chocolate ceremony – a ceremony being held for a group of writers that are in town for a week of workshops. Just last night, Keith made a last-minute decision and asked me to assist. I am excited to do so.
I note with interest that Paul is also on the porch, helping in the set up as well. He is dressed up in nice clothes … and based on what I observe I assume that Keith must have asked him to participate too. To my delight, I am fine with this. I am making huge strides in dropping all judgments and projections that have long held me hostage.
As the 10:00 a.m. starting time rapidly approaches, I am deeply surprised when Keith lovingly engages Paul in a firm conversation, reminding him that he was not invited to participate, asking him to leave.
Paul protests, indicating that the last he knew, that I was not invited either, and since I was there he assumed he could be there. Soon, Paul begrudgingly picks up his things and storms away with his head down. I can sense his confused and resentful anger.
Assumed Guilt
The private ceremony turns out to be small but very powerful. I have a delightful time holding a beautiful heart space, and am deeply connected to my heart power today. I feel quite bubbly and socially connected as well.
After this first beautiful ceremony ends at 1:15 p.m., I gobble down a couple of apples while quickly assisting in the setup for the normal public ceremony, which has been pushed back to begin at 2:00 p.m. in order to allow for two ceremonies in one day.
I continue to be in this same beautiful energy as the afternoon “Glow Meditation” gets underway. In fact, I am able to maintain that powerful energy of unconditional love throughout the ceremony, even while doing my own work.
But as I sit quietly during the “Glow Meditation”, I unexpectedly feel strong pains in my solar plexus. Intuitively I know I am physically feeling Paul’s anger. It is easy to observe that Paul remains in the same emotional state that caused him to storm off Keith’s porch earlier this morning, and I feel indirectly involved in the middle of that anger.
“Paul is angry that I was invited and that he was not.” I begin to ponder. “In a strange way, I feel as if he blames me for that fact. Even more bizarre is that I feel a sense of guilt and responsibility for his anger … and yet I had nothing to do with it. I would have been fine either way.”
Empathic Dilemmas
As I ponder deeper into this confusion, I recognize an old lifelong pattern of feeling horrible about perceived conflict in others – especially when I know that they indirectly and/or incorrectly blame me for their suffering. Such realization has always devastated me.
Even when I know I am not responsible, I still feel their pain, and I feel as if I should have – or somehow could have – prevented them from feeling the pain. It has always broken my heart to be around such situations where I insanely blamed myself for the suffering of another. It is now quite clear to me that I feel this pain because I am an empath – and because I have always been unable to fully distinguish my own personal emotions from the emotions that I unknowingly inhale from others.
As I sit in meditation, while still being quite connected to the love in my heart, a strong and painful emotional knot physically forms behind my belly button. The pain is so sharp that it literally feels as if someone kicked me there. I cannot explain how I know … but I know that what I am feeling is coming from Paul.
Eating Versus Reading
When Keith begins to work with individuals, he first turns to me. I feel deeply handicapped in my ability to communicate, because it feels inappropriate to discuss actual circumstances in an explicit way.
“I feel as if I am absorbing the emotions of others,” I explain generically to Keith.” These emotions are related to conflict and anger. I am taking them inside of me … yet I am not attached to the emotions … not identifying with them. I am in a very good place while remaining the observer. I feel the pain quite deeply, but I know it is not my responsibility.”
“Brenda, you are not eating that emotion,” Keith surprises me. “You are just reading it, feeling it in your body without storing it inside.”
“You’re right,” I respond with a smile. “My heart is not shut down. In fact it remains quite loving and powerful.”
“Remember to pay close attention to your heart,” Keith reminds me. “If your heart is shutting down, then you are eating the emotion. If it remains open, you are simply reading it.”
Grounding Group Emotions
“Brenda is what I call a ground,” Keith then unexpectedly begins to explain to the others.
Keith clarifies by sharing that I work with group energy … that right now I am connected to the whole group … and that I am like a lightning rod, often being the path of least resistance for other peoples’ energy when they do not want to deal with it themselves.
“She is starting to understand this and to be more powerful with it.” Keith continues talking about me to the group.
“I want everyone here to consciously stop releasing any of their negative emotions.” Keith guides an unexpected experiment.
“Brenda,” Keith asks a few minutes later. “How do you feel now?”
“It is amazing,” I respond with a smile. My solar plexus has totally stopped hurting. This is powerful. Is this why I have cried so much at so many ceremonies?”
“Sometimes, but not always,” Keith answers in the mostly affirmative.
“Yeah, I know that most of my tears have been my own stuff,” I brainstorm with Keith. “But it is also becoming increasingly clear that my own stuff is often deeply triggered when I empathically feel the emotions of others. When that happens, I find my version of their issue inside of me, and work on it in myself.”
An Eye-Opening Energetic Empath Experiment
“Brenda,” Keith takes me deeper. “Go inside and notice the fingers of energy that leave your heart and connect to everyone here.”
“Yeah,” I respond. “I don’t feel them physically, but I sense their presence. I cannot say how, but I know that I am connected to everyone here.”
At this point, Keith guides me deeper and deeper into understanding the dynamics of how I use my energy to work with a group. It is all so new to me that I still find the realization quite confusing.
Soon, Keith continues the energetic empath experiment.
“I want everyone to begin allowing their emotional density to flow again.” Keith guides the others.
Gradually, I feel more and more pains begin to swell in my solar plexus. After about five minutes, I literally feel as if I had been kicked in my belly button.
The entire experiment proves to be very eye opening.
Slowly-But-Surely
As Keith gradually continues to work his way around the porch, I maintain a powerful connection with everyone in the group. Again, I cannot say how I know … I just intuitively know it.
Without moving from my seat, I repeatedly participate as an empath in the emotional release process of others … doing so from across the porch. At other times, I simply observe as Keith engages others in beautiful work while imagining a heart connection joining my heart to theirs.
In many ways this feels like childish imagination – yet I know that imagination is real magic – and I do continue to observe mild emotional feelings coming and going, as if they are flowing through me. My head is alive with energy, and my third-eye chakra occasionally pulses with pain, which I intuitively interpret as continued resistance to further opening. In fact, I believe that most of the metaphorical pains I feel today are resistance to what is slowly-but-surely starting to open … in baby steps.
Droplets Of Love
Eventually, when Keith does an empath training with the group, I remain deep in my own meditation – one in which I am focusing on attempting to allow myself to bring in more self-love.
I visualize myself as a love-starved baby and toddler … terrified of love … yet beginning to receive that love. As I do so, I begin to lightly cry and whimper … but the tears are more from joy than they are from fear. I am actually getting tiny glimpses of pure unconditional love.
After a while, I begin to visualize myself as a confused teenage boy, in various stages of dress. When I do so, the level of my emotions intensifies greatly, switching much more into the fearful side. I am deeply afraid of the love … feeling evil and undeserving of the love … knowing that the love will judge and condemn me … knowing that the love will manipulate and control me. But even so, I feel this frightened teenager reluctantly receiving very tiny glimpses of that pure unconditional love.
I notice that I am unable to visualize where the love is coming from. I attempt to imagine myself as walking into that brilliantly glowing room where my divine circle of friends hang out … but I cannot do it. The thought remains overwhelming and impossible. Nevertheless, little droplets of love continue to find their way through the cracks in my thick wall.
As the empath training ends, Keith feels guided to quickly check in with me. When I let him know that I am just focusing on bringing in lots of love, he deeply congratulates me on how my energy feels.
A Basket Of Love
In a different twist of events, Keith then guides everyone into a meditation where they visualize a basket in front of them.
“In the basket,” Keith tells us, “you will find a gift from your Higher Self.”
To my delight, as I imagine a basket sitting in my lap, I am gifted by an unexpected visual of my little heart seed – the same one that fell out of the sky and landed in my hand as I walked down the street in Panajachel on the morning after Christmas – a morning in which I was emotionally struggling. (See blog, A Dragon Quest, Part 3, published February 1, 2012.)
“My gift from Higher Self is self-love for my child … and from my child.” I ponder with tears in my eyes. “It is beautiful love, just for me.”
I bask and glow in this love for the remainder of this beautiful ceremony.
Reading The Book
“Brenda,” Keith congratulates me after ceremony. “You were very low-key today … but you did some powerful work.”
“Yeah, I know that,” I respond with a smile. “Do you have thirty seconds to walk with me out to the gate?”
Paul remains on the porch, and I do not want to talk in front of him. As Keith and I stand by the gate, I quickly share details of my experience at the start of the ceremony, how I know that I was painfully reading Paul’s anger, how I was actually feeling quite guilty for feelings of conflict and confrontation in which I played no contributing role.
Keith validates that I was indeed entering an old childhood loop of feeling responsible for the emotions of others.
“But you didn’t eat any of that density,” Keith again congratulates me. “You were aware of what you were doing, and you were just reading the emotions, not attaching to them as being your now.”
“I’m really starting to get it.” I respond as I give Keith a quick hug before beginning to walk up the steep hill above his home.
Heart Grace
As I ponder before bed, I am glowing in new feelings and understandings. I’m really loving the self-love that is beginning to blossom in my heart. This budding sense of Divine Love is so peaceful. I know that my protective wall remains tall and thick (but partially crumbling), and that I am still in the early stages of allowing such love into my heart … but I glow with the awareness that I am on the right path. I know it … and I increasingly believe that as I allow this love to fill me that it will transmute more and more of the inner density for me without my having to slog through every single dense emotion on my own, doing it the hard way.
Several times as I meditated during the final hour of the ceremony today, I was intuitively taken back to memories of an incredible special experience that happened on Valentines Day, 2011 (documented in “Heart Magic”, published March 9, 2011). As I ponder that experience, I now realize that the incredible power that had filled my heart on that amazing day was a gift of Divine grace – a gift showing me where I am headed – showing me the potential power and capacity of my heart that will return once I clear out all of the blockages that keep me separated from that power.
After that Valentines Day experience, the amazing power had endured for several days before subsiding to a level to which I was accustomed. Every once in a while I have again glimpsed the magic of which my heart is capable.
“It is not my rational mind … or work … that will take me back to that power.” I ponder on my pillow. “It is all about allowing the self-love and Divine-love to take me there as I follow the flow, one step at a time … not doing … but being, allowing, and trusting this process to continue unfolding … just like it did today.”
Magical Mornings
Thursday morning, as I busily write “A Synchronous Powerful Flow”, my magical winged friend – my favorite little brown sparrow – returns for a visit. For a couple of minutes the brave little explorer checks out my kitchen and bedroom, looking for hidden treasures before returning to the great outdoors.
Friday morning, the magic continues as I devour three additional chapters of the book “Oneness” by Rasha. Every word seems to resonate deeply, profoundly inspiring me in my inner-work path.
But the highlight of the magical morning is a visit from my dear friend Conny – a friend that I first met while spending three months in Valladolid, Yucatan, Mexico, while recovering from a severe third-degree burn on my left foot. During the month of December 2009, she had inspired me to have the courage and confidence to travel further south into Central America – even giving me her Lonely Planet guidebook as a heart-felt Christmas gift.
And I had mutually inspired her to find the courage to further follow her own heart. It was not long after flying back to Germany that Conny decided to return to Mexico to see where her heart would take her. To my delight, on the weekend of my birthday, Conny has unexpectedly shown up at Lake Atitlan. She needed to leave Mexico for a six-month visa renewal, and I am delighted that Lake Atitlan is her out-of-Mexico destination of choice. We spend two delightful hours in catch-up conversation before we part ways so that I can spend Friday afternoon journeying with chocolate. I cannot wait until she returns tomorrow to help me celebrate my birthday.
Intuitive Confirmations
Early during the “Glow Meditation”, I begin to feel a great deal of solar plexus pain, but my heart remains open and flowing with power.
“I feel strong intuitions that I am again reading the emotions of others.” I interrupt Keith at an appropriate moment, hoping to confirm my feelings.
“Yes you are,” Keith confirms my inner guidance, helping me to trust myself further.
When I thank Keith for the feedback, he surprises me with even more clarity.
“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “there is really strong solar plexus pain here on the porch today. It is from several people, not just one person.”
A few minutes later, as I focus on assisting others to move this painful emotion, Keith interrupts the silence again.
“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you are entering a new level of working with your empath abilities. You are connected to lots of people … assisting with their densities … while simultaneously bringing in Higher Energies to share with them. Can you feel that?”
“I cannot feel it physically,” I respond to Keith, “but I intuitively know that I am doing it.”
Hidden Awareness
Early in the ceremony, I work with one man, assisting in his release work. I follow intuitions, and feel as if I am really helping him, but rational mind continues to get in the way, bringing up doubts and telling me that I do not have a clue what I am really doing.
After sitting back on my pillow, I begin to hold-space for the group, again opening my heart and imagining a magical connection to everyone on the porch. A couple of times, as I experience unusual pains in my body, I check with Keith to validate that I am reading someone else’s energy. Each time, he confirms my perception. I am starting to increasingly trust myself … but feel somewhat frustrated that my sense of knowing is not more concrete … and that I continue to doubt myself.
Again, during another empath training (which is happening a lot lately), I let my fears get the best of me, and I mostly disconnect. Something inside of me continues to be quite freaked out by the thought of bringing these energetic abilities to more conscious awareness. Nonetheless, I do participate a little bit, and while my sensitivities are minimal, I find a new level of self-trust as I practice “faking it till I make it”.
Detached Observation
In the meantime, I begin to observe Paul as he engages in behavior that once triggered me quite deeply.
“I’m aware of things.” Keith speaks quietly when I briefly glance in his direction a few minutes later.
I silently giggle inside. I am delighted that I am able to watch what I now see as innocent distorted behavior from a state of complete detachment, totally trusting that all is well – totally trusting Keith’s guidance.
My Triggers, My Issue
Soon, however, I observe behaviors that do deeply bother me. I do my best to remain unattached and in a non-judgmental state – but it seems that no matter how many projections I heal, that Paul has a way of triggering me ever deeper – challenging me to continually delve further into my own inner journey.
As I observe with attempted non-attachment, my lower abdomen fills with sharp pains on either side of the belly button. In fact, these areas quickly become very painful to the touch. Then sharp energetic jabs begin to poke me in the centerline of my lower abdomen. The pokes are random and very painful. I know that what I am witnessing is triggering great energetic unrest in my second chakra.
I will not share details here in my writing – and Keith never does answer concerns that I express to him in a follow-up email. As much as I desperately want and think that I need Keith’s validation, I get the intuitive message to back off – that my triggers are my issue – that this is a reality that I have created for my own growth – and that nothing will change until I do.
Stuck And Disconnected
At an appropriate moment, I eventually ask Keith for guidance regarding the pains in my lower abdomen.
“Connect to the pains,” Keith guides me. “Go sit with them and ask them what they are about.”
“I think this is related to what is happening on the porch,” I respond in a state of deep stuck-ness. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about it openly. I am really stuck and disconnected right now.”
After calmly asking a few people to rejoin a space of holding energy for the group, Keith returns to work with me. The situation that was bothering me is now resolved.
“Congratulations on being profoundly stuck.” Keith shocks me. “This is right where you need to be for your understanding.”
Feel And Allow
As I sink deeper into observing my pains, I soon get the strong intuitive feeling that I am a two or three year old child – and that these pains belong to my stuck child – a child with no self-trust – a child filled with doubts about trusting my heart. Whenever I tried to follow my heart, it got me in trouble. I was deeply puzzled by the unexpected reactions of my parents.
“I am in a state of being totally stuck, and not understanding the reactions of those around me.” I express to Keith. “I am unable to do anything without getting in trouble, and it hurts.”
After Keith congratulates me for my unfolding understanding, I ask for guidance, asking if I should just sit with these pains in a state of non-attachment.
“Brenda,” Keith responds. “You are stuck in your head, trying to figure out this process with rational mind. Just trust your process … you cannot figure it out … just feel and allow.”
Lost In Frustration
As Keith moves on, I notice that a young woman who is on the porch for her first time (I will call her Mary) is looking at me while appearing to be sending energy in my direction. I feel appreciation for her gesture, but sense no energy flow except for the sharp pains in my belly.
I begin to imagine myself floating downstream in a raft, just trusting the flow … but this does not help much. Finally, I begin to sense a nice influx of energy in my crown, but the pains in my abdomen continue to ache strongly.
Remaining mostly unattached to these pains, I continue to allow and observe the unfolding events, trusting that I do not need to understand – trusting that I do not need to push – trusting that whatever needs to happen will just happen.
After a while, Keith and I again chat for a few minutes. My trust and self-confidence are waning.
“I am stuck, not going anywhere,” I express with frustration. “I am overflowing with resistance and feel as if I am wasting my time.”
Keith calmly reassures me that I do not need to know what is happening, that my process really is moving and going somewhere, and that I am not wasting my time. But even with Keith’s loving words, I am on the edge of just going home for the day.
A Motherly Embrace
Meanwhile, as I talk to Keith, Mary moves over to occupy an empty cushion on my left.
“Can I hold you?” Mary asks me with beautiful intentions.
“Please no,” I start to push her away.
I cannot possibly see how this could take me anywhere productive. I want to reject her loving offer because it feels so much like fixing energy. While I interpret her intention as genuine and pure … it seems as if she just sees my sadness and wants to hold me to make it all better.
“Brenda,” Keith shocks me with his encouragement. “Why don’t you allow it?”
Soon I lean to my left and allow Mary to wrap her right arm around me … which she quickly uses to pull me into her embrace. Before I know what happens, my left ear is glued to her upper chest. She holds me so tightly that I can hear the soft rhythmic beating of her beautiful warm heart.
As I surrender to this comforting motherly embrace, with her arms holding me tight, I sink into the state of being a love-starved little child … and I begin to cry deeply.
Feeling Guilty
“Brenda,” Keith lovingly encourages, “this is exactly what you need. Allow yourself to receive this love. She is absolutely overflowing with it.”
Soon, my crying turns into sobs – waves of gut-wrenching sobs that go up and down like the waves of the ocean. I cry and sob … sob and cry … cry and sob … seemingly forever.
Keith occasionally checks in with me, lightly touching my right leg to offer support, while encouraging me to allow, telling me that I am doing great.
“Are you sure I’m not hurting your arm?” I ask Mary after about ten minutes, feeling guilty for all of the attention I am getting.
“I’m fine,” She reassures me.
After another ten minutes of crying and sobbing, I ask the same question.
“I’m fine,” Mary again lets me know that this awkward hugging position is not a problem.
Hurtful Conditional Colorations
“Brenda,” Keith chimes in, “allow the love in.”
“Keith,” I respond through my whimpers, “I’m a love-starved little child.”
“No, Brenda,” Keith responds. “You are not just love-starved … you are love-resistant. You will not allow it in.”
As I hear Keith’s words, I resume sobbing and crying in waves. Keith encourages me through layer after layer of these deep emotions, often predicting when the next wave will hit even before I feel it.
“Keith,” I begin to share what is going on with me, “I have no memory of ever receiving such love at any time in my life … not even from my mother, except for a few random hugs that were probably at around age three or four.”
“You had this love, Brenda,” Keith reassures me, “but it just came with conditions.”
I know Keith is right. I know my mother loved me deeply. But her love was so colored by conditions, judgment, manipulation, and control (well intentioned, all of them) that her love hurt me deeply.
“Are you sure that your arm is OK?” I again check in with Mary.
Terrified Of Love
“And then,” I continue my rambling, “when I reached around age eleven, I hated myself with such self-despising passion, that I built the walls taller and thicker. I was terrified of allowing in the love, because if people got close they would discover what an evil and defective person I was – and they would surely reject and abandon me.”
“I was terrified of such love,” I keep pondering aloud. “In my marriage, I kept those huge walls. I never spent any time alone with my parents … and I never let anyone near the inner chambers of my true heart. I remained at the surface, desperately maintaining my distance to protect my evil secrets.”
In my thirties, when I began to open my heart to explore my gender struggles, I immediately encountered the long-feared rejection, which hurt deeply, so I put the walls up again, even stronger.
“I have never allowed this love,” I express to Keith with newfound understanding.
Barely Allowing
“Brenda, another layer,” Keith tells me that more emotions are coming. “Allow it … allow more love to come in.”
As I surrender to this next wave of emotion, I am astounded by the intensity. I am soon engulfed in deep agonizing wails and screeches of pain and aguish. Deep sobs consume me as dry-heaves and more screeching wails force their way out of my throat.
I am shocked by the pain of how love-starved … how craving of this love that I am. I feel so safe and warm being held in Mary’s arms. I could remain here all day were it not for the painful pulsing in my sleeping leg and foot. When I mention my pain, Mary admits that her leg is also asleep. We quickly take a two-minute break to shift positions.
But bless her heart, as soon as we are comfortable, Mary again grabs hold of me and pulls me into her motherly embrace.
Mary’s heartbeat is so comforting. I begin to imagine her as my own mother’s pure Higher Essence … loving me unconditionally, without any conditional distortions coloring it. I love the warmth … I love the love that I am able to allow to flow into me … but I feel as if I am only allowing a small part of this love to actually get in.
“Most is being pushed away,” Keith confirms my suspicion when I ask for feedback.
“Yes, you are still resisting,” Keith again reassures me a few minutes later, “but some love is getting through … and Mary is overflowing with plenty, with much more than you are able to allow in.”
A Frightened Puppy
“Brenda,” Keith eventually interrupts, “I’m guided to tell you that about 40% of the love you are now bringing in is not coming from Mary … you are bringing it in directly … you have your direct connection flowing.”
“Keith,” I mention a video link that I recently shared, “I’m being guided to remember that frightened love-starved dog at the pound … the one that just desperately needed to be held and loved. I AM that frightened dog … starved for love that I can’t let in.”
Finally, at around 6:30 p.m., after most people have left, I sit up in shock. It must be at least two hours since Mary first began holding me.
Still in a daze, I graciously thank Mary for an experience that continues to have me amazed and blown away. Several of the few people remaining on the porch come over to hug me.
“I knew the first time that I saw you that this was going to happen,” One woman shares with me. “I am so grateful that I got to be here to witness it.”
Trust The Process
“Congratulations for the beautiful work today.” Keith shares when I step into his kitchen to give him a quick goodbye hug.
“Keith,” I express with shock, “I feel like it is the Sahara Desert in there … my heart is still dry and craving love … and it feels like I continue to maintain castle walls surrounding the whole desert. It seems that I am still fighting it. I desperately want this love, but something in me will not allow it.”
“Brenda,” Keith lovingly guides me, “this is to powerfully show you how you can want something so bad, and yet your resistance can be amazingly powerful in fighting it. It is a part of your education.”
“What you did today was perfect,” Keith reassures me when I express fears about some type of emotional backlash that always seems to follow such major forward advances.
“What happens next is anyone’s guess,” Keith continues. “But whatever that is, it will be perfect too. You might have a major rejection, rebellion, or revolt inside that fights back in some way as you have had other times when you brought in love. You might be able to bring in more love. Trust whatever happens and do not attach to it, judge it, or resist it. It is all part of your process … and it is beautiful.”
Grateful Goodbyes
When I step back onto the porch to hug and thank Mary, she is occupied as Paul does a little energy work on her headache. I know Mary is leaving tomorrow … but I feel awkward, not wanting to interrupt, and I am anxious to go home to integrate … so I send my gratitude energetically and begin the short walk home in the dark.
As I reach the center of town, I am craving French fries, and I just happen to have a little money in my bag (I rarely carry money at night). To my delight, as I wait for the street vendor to fill a small plastic bag with yummy-but-oily fries, Mary finds me. She is just as excited as I am for the opportunity to say goodbye.
“Thank you so much,” I express my deep gratitude. “You are amazing. You have no idea how much you helped me today.”
“I had no idea how love-starved I was, and still am.” I tell her as I quickly fill her in on my Sahara Desert metaphor – a huge dry heart with castle walls around it.
“Well, my love is like rain,” Mary smiles.
“Wow, I love that,” I giggle back to her. “Castle walls could never keep out the rain.”
Beginning Stages Of Revolt
As I prepare for bed at 8:30 p.m., all I have eaten are French fries. I know what happened today was profound … and I know that I have no idea what will happen next. I am not attached, and feel determined to simply trust the flow of my process … whether the next step seems to be up or down.
As I rest on my pillow, a tight knot behind my belly button tells me something in my abdomen is quite unhappy. My heart feels somewhat shutdown, and I intuitively sense some type of major emotional rebellion forming in its beginning stages.
I will just trust and observe, being willing to go wherever events might lead me.
Love Is A Collar
Early Saturday morning, March 10, 2012, I am awake several times with crazy dreams. The details are not important, other than that the dreams give me the profound understanding of another reason why I hated love. It seems that I also have “love” hooked together with “loss of privacy”.
As I further ponder this forgotten theme of my life, it seems that being surrounded by love always meant being watched, followed, judged, and controlled. There were only rare occasions when love did not feel like a collar around my neck. Even when I spent time alone, I felt an obligation to explain and defend what I had done during that alone time.
As a result, both as a teen, and as an adult, I felt hard pressed to explore my confusing struggles. If I did spend time alone to try to figure myself out, I would have to account for that time later … and I would have to either lie about my actions or face stiff judgment, rejection, and abandonment by the ones I loved. Neither was a pleasant option.
Birthday Therapy
As I sit browsing Facebook on Saturday morning, I am extremely moody. It is my birthday and I am suddenly feeling quite lonely.
I have received beautiful birthday wishes from many friends and family members … but nothing dents the unexpected and inexplicable loneliness. I know it is related to the events of yesterday.
As I ponder what might be going on, I finally realize that I have torn down part of the walls that kept me strong … the wall that kept out love also kept out the vulnerability and the possibility of getting hurt. With this wall further disintegrating I am feeling the increased vulnerability … yet since I am not yet fully allowing in self-love or love from Source, that vulnerability is demanding my full emotional attention.
Finally, Conny arrives to spend my birthday with me. When she greats me with a hug and asks how I am doing, I am shocked as I begin to cry. We talk and talk for the next couple of hours. She plays therapist and gives me a beautiful listening ear. By the time we are done, I feel much better … but exhausted.
A New (Same) Look
It has been a very long time since I spent a day simply playing with a friend, and Conny gives me the perfect excuse.
Soon we are on a small public lancha, taking a boat ride over to nearby San Pedro. The lake is extra bumpy today, due to windy conditions. As we walk up a steep hill leading to the center of San Pedro, we pass a small beauty salon operated by a local Mayan woman.
“It has been thirteen months since I had a haircut,” I casually mention to Conny. “I have cut my own bangs many times, but the last time someone cut the rest of my hair was in February, 2011.”
“Brenda,” Conny insists. “Come with me right now. We are getting you a haircut. It is your birthday and it will make you feel better.”
I resist, but finally give in when Conny does not take no for an answer. She marches me inside, and takes care of all the arrangements … except the cutting itself. Fifteen minutes later we are all done. The front is only an inch or two shorter; while the back (which was several inches longer) is now even and free from straggly ends that often got snarled and tangled in my hairbrush.
I do not look much different, but my hair feels so much better – and it only cost me about $3.25 (US) plus tip.
Birthday Fun
After strolling around town, visiting over lunch, and buying a peanut butter square at the local health-food store, Conny and I again find ourselves on a small boat headed back to San Marcos. This one is even bumpier than the first. We are being drenched by spray from every bump until someone gets out a large plastic tarp to partially block the persistent wind-blown shower.
Later that evening, Conny and I walk out to Keith’s house to see if he would like to join us in conversation over a meal and dessert. I love my pizza and large piece of chocolate cake.
By 9:30 p.m., I am exhausted as I eagerly return to my cozy pillow. It has turned out to be a very fun birthday.
Tale Of Three Birthdays
It is hard to fathom that I am in the final months of almost three years of travel. I spent my first amazing birthday away from home in a tiny Mayan village in southern Belize. And now, I have spent these last two birthdays nestled in a small Mayan town along the shores of a beautiful lake in Guatemala – a lake surrounded by Mayan villages and three scenic towering volcanoes.
It is equally hard to believe that I have spent nearly half of those three years engaging in deep, sometimes agonizing emotional inner work. (Actually, the other half involved a great deal of self-directed inner work as well.) So many times I have been close to giving up in this often-difficult quest to “know myself” – but time and time again events have passionately shown me that I am exactly where I belong, doing exactly what I need to be doing at this stage of my now-adventurous life.
A Birthday Boat Ride
These last four days have been a powerful reinforcement that I am indeed on the right path. I have continued to chip away at my doubts and inner blockages, gradually opening up my energetic sensitivities, and learning to trust how I work as an empath … even when I cannot yet fully feel what I am doing.
But the most profound realizations have come in recognizing how much I crave pure unconditional love, and how strongly I simultaneously block myself from receiving it. It makes no sense to a love-starved mind, but hidden parts of me remain quite terrified of love – the conditional kind – the kind that feels like a controlling collar around my neck.
Because of this fear of conditional love, I have dried up, becoming a moisture-starved Sahara Desert surrounded by protective castle walls. The very unconditionally loving moisture I crave surrounds me … is right here … everywhere … and has always been there … directly available from Source if only I can allow.
As I think about the birthday boat ride from San Pedro to San Marcos, just a few hours ago, a new metaphor comes to mind. The windblown spray drenching us on that bumpy lancha is just like that readily available unconditional love, but in my fear and craziness, I would rather hide behind a protective tarp to stay as dry as possible.
“What if my hair and clothes get drenched and I have to wash them? And even worse, Heaven forbid if there is something dirty (colored by conditional love) in that water! How horrible would that be?”
So in my fears of getting drenched by loving waters … fears of having my energetic clothes and hair polluted in some way … I would rather protect myself from all love … unconditional and conditional … and instead simply hide behind a tarp.
I want to be a child again. I am tired of being a water-starved desert. I want to drop these protective defenses and play in the spray.
Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved