I really was a grinning Cheshire Cat when I hit the publish button on my last blog, way back on August 16, 2012. Feeling on top of the world, I had no idea of the smashing tidal wave that was headed in my direction – an emotional wave that would nearly derail my journey.
Now, on December 13, 2012, nearly four months later, I am finally beginning to return to whispers of that higher-consciousness state – brushing off the sand and dabbing soothing ointment on my stinging emotional wounds from having my face drug in the sand beneath the weight of the constantly pounding surf that caused me to almost drown … repeatedly … in an endless uncontrollable loop.
I cannot count the number of times in the last few months when I have wanted to just give up in futility and allow myself to drown … but perhaps I am getting ahead of myself. It is time to go back to the beginning … to fill in a few details.
Illusive Childhood Bonds
On the evening of August 16, 2012, after finally being caught up in my writing, I celebrate by treating my inner children to a burger and fries … and I even enjoy a little live jazz and blues music at a local restaurant.
As I prepare for bed, I find a quote on Facebook that really reaches out and touches me. It is one I have heard before, but this time it seems to have a special impact, bringing clarity to my process. It is a little story called “The Elephant Rope” … one for which I am unable to find the original author … one that seems to have several variations floating around in the ethers of the internet.
The Elephant Rope
As a man was passing the elephants, he suddenly stopped, confused by the fact that these huge creatures were being held by only a small rope tied to their front leg. No chains, no cages. It was obvious that the elephants could, at anytime, break away from their bonds but for some reason, they did not.
He saw a trainer nearby and asked why these animals just stood there and made no attempt to get away. “Well,” the trainer said, “when they are very young and much smaller we use the same size rope to tie them and, at that age, it’s enough to hold them. As they grow up, they are conditioned to believe that they cannot break away. They believe the rope can still hold them, so they never try to break free.”
The man was amazed. These animals could at any time break free from their bonds but because they believed they couldn’t, they were stuck right where they were.
Like the elephants, how many of us go through life hanging onto a belief that we cannot do something, simply because we failed at it once before?
As I read these words, I love the message … and I even smile as I believe myself to have finally broken free of the illusive childhood bonds that have held me prisoner.
Looking back in retrospect, however, I could not have been further from the truth. As I now write, some four months later, I can see that I was indeed very close to breaking free, but those simple illusory bonds remained quite intact. In fact, they were about to drag me on an excruciating journey.
A Golden Discovery
For the next several days, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat, I enjoy a state of peace. I rejoice in conversation with a friend on Skype, do considerable reading, engage in a few yoga stretching sessions, and find great pleasure in simply doing nothing. I even do a little hiking and Spanish study. Life is good. I am riding my surfboard on top of the wave, simply enjoying the fruits of a much needed rest, waiting fur further guidance.
On Monday, August 20, the first bread-crumb clue unfolds. Late in the evening, as I am munching away on a leftover pancake from breakfast (something I rarely cook here in Guatemala), I suddenly feel a sharp and unexpected crunch between my teeth. Further investigation leads to the discovery of a large piece of crumpled up gold in my mouth. It seems that a huge gold filling on a left-rear-bottom molar has rotted away and come loose, leaving behind a large exposed hole in that once-healthy tooth.
I had been hoping for guidance taking me on a little journey, perhaps to a beach somewhere. Instead, it seems that I am being told to stay put, to work with a local dentist. Still in good spirits, I simply giggle as I go to bed with plans to go see a local dentist, first thing in the morning.
A Tale of Two Choices
Early the next morning, I catch a boat to nearby San Pedro, locate the dentist office, make an appointment for 4:00 p.m., and then return to San Marcos. After engaging in a solo chocolate meditation – one in which I realize that a great deal of triggering and projection is churning inside – I again scurry across the lake for my afternoon appointment, eagerly hoping that the dentist can simply replace the old filling with another.
I am in such a good mood that I manage to genuinely giggle when the dentist informs me that the molar is cracked and cannot be repaired with just a new filling. My options are to either pull the tooth and put in a three-tooth bridge, or to do a root canal, add some type of constructed pin to the center (because there is not enough tooth left for a crown), and then put a crown on the pin. I opt for the latter.
“Would you like to begin the root canal right now?” My dentist, Doctora Veronica, then surprises me with her question.
“Yes,” I respond while anxiously checking my watch, realizing that the final boat returns to San Marcos in less than an hour.
Soon, after surrendering to long prickly needles, I attempt to meditate to the sound and vibration of screeching drills, intermixed with poking and prodding. It seems that this particular molar has four distinct roots.
With less than ten minutes to spare, Doctora Veronica slaps a temporary on my tooth and tells me that we will finish the second half of the root canal on Friday. As I rush to barely catch my boat, I giggle inside as I contemplate that the total cost of all of my work – work that will stretch out over the next several weeks – will be about $375 US dollars – less than what the co-pay would have been back in the US.
Lucid Concentration
Early the next morning, I am delighted by what is my first lucid dream in ages. Once I realize that I am dreaming, I am actually able to remain in the dream for what feels like a very long time. It is a fun experience, one in which I am able to force myself (still in the dream state) to actually look in a mirror and see myself, one in which I am initially able to do a little flying. Intense concentration is required, and eventually I give up trying to control things and instead just remain in the dream, observing vivid and colorful images that float by. Finally, all I can do is open my eyes and get up to enjoy the day. The concentration is too difficult to maintain.
Nevertheless, the experience instills me with great confidence that deeper states of astral experience are indeed waiting for me.
True Approval
As I later browse Facebook, I find a new quote from Matt Kahn that literally jumps out and grabs me. Following is the quote from “Sacred Heart Wisdom from Matt Kahn” that was posted on August 22, 2012.
The aspect of self that seeks validation and approval doesn’t really want what it continuously chases. Simply because, the act of being validated or gaining approval would mean there is nothing left to seek. The part that wants doesn’t actually want what it believes it wants. It simply searches for what appears to be missing, as a way of avoiding the fear of receiving. The seeker is always afraid of receiving, which is why seeking is pursued. The energy of seeking doesn’t want what it seeks, but endless opportunities to constantly crave and seek it out. Once this pattern is uncovered, it can be seen that any form of seeking is a fear of receiving. Even deeper, any fear of receiving is a life-long war against intimacy.
This is because whenever one is rooted in the act of receiving they are open, exposed, and fully surrendered to the unexpected changes of their environment. It is here where those who have been left in their intimate heart space have a greater chance of rejecting and abandoning the one who only knows validation or approval as something imagined to be gained from others. When you realize you can only gain true approval from yourself, there is no longer a war against intimacy. Once the war against intimacy has ended, there is no fear of outcome during any personal encounter or anything else to crave or chase. From this space, the heart feels safe enough to burst wide open to the innocence, honesty, and appreciation of your natural state of being. This is the grace of letting go. http://www.truedivinenature.com/.
The words of this quote resonate deeply. I have spent my whole life seeking outside validation, outside approval. Part of me knows that I am still stuck in “seeking mode” – still unable to actually find what I seek – still unable to embrace that true approval from myself.
Dizzy Surrender
Thursday I wake up in an extremely dizzy state. Intense energies are flowing through me, disorienting me. As I attempt to adjust the blankets at the foot of my bed, I fall forward with no physical control, nearly collapsing on the floor.
Quickly, I return to my bed and pull the covers back over me. Each time I breathe deeply, more energy surges through my head, causing me to feel increasingly dizzy. Intuitions tell me that what I am experiencing is not a physical problem – I clearly know it is some type of energy flow that is working with me – but I am also somewhat frightened by the overwhelming intensity.
In fact, the experience is so intense and uncomfortable that I can do nothing more than surrender, using the rest of the day to practice self-love while allowing myself to isolate and simply watch videos and play computer games.
Friday is a repeat day of the same dizziness. Even when sitting in the dentist chair as Doctora Veronica finishes my root canal, the dizzy sensations overwhelm me. Again, I surrender to self-love and videos, finding great inspiration in watching “August Rush” and later finishing off season two of “Glee”.
Earlier in the week I had felt an inner nudge telling me to re-watch all three seasons of Glee – to see what new healing might occur when I again watch that episode just past the middle of season three – the episode that had pulled me into intense suicidal feelings on the final day of June.
Handle With Care
Saturday, the same intense energetic dizziness continues to periodically overwhelm me. Again, I surrender to self-love and videos – this time watching videos from one of my favorite “A Course In Miracles” teachers. But I find myself feeling quite annoyed that this teacher talks about the joys of being in his high energy state, but seems to leave out all of the details of how he managed to achieve that state.
I realize that true self-love continues to elude me.
Following what seems like a touch of guidance, I get the idea to begin doing things that in the past have triggered my own self-hatred – things as simple as mindlessly playing computer games. Somehow, I know that this buried self-loathing and negative self-chatter needs to surface.
“Surely, when this self-hatred surfaces, I can use the experience to heal and find more self-love,” I gently reassure myself regarding the soundness of my logic.
I do not yet know it, but I am playing with metaphorical old sticks of dynamite – fragile explosives that are ready to blow up at the slightest inappropriate handling.
A Cheshire Grin
After finishing off the weekend with some beautiful hiking and intense Spanish study, I watch a Facebook video, late on Sunday evening – a video that unexpectedly triggers intense angry energy focused in the direction of my childhood religion. I do my best to process the emotions, but am quite shocked by the intensity of what yet remains inside of me – of what yet continues to be unexpectedly triggered.
Monday, August 27, finds me back across the lake with Doctora Veronica drilling away on my tooth – my third day of heavy dental work out of the last seven days – grinding away to make a hole for the ceramic pin that will be the foundation of a future crown.
Still, however, I manage to remain positive, still holding on to most of that “Cheshire Cat” grin – still managing to remain mostly centered in my quest for more self-love.
Deeply Relating
Later Monday afternoon, I resume watching episodes of “Glee”, beginning with the early episodes of season three. As I watch one episode where “Emma” is flashing back to a time when she was a young struggling girl – a girl being judged and badgered by family – a girl praying to God for help – I lose myself in a brief outburst of intensely agonizing emotional release. I deeply relate to Emma’s experience in a way that I cannot justify with any actual physical memories.
“Maybe I need to get on my knees and try a traditional prayer,” I ponder.
But as I attempt to return the manner of prayer that was taught to me as a child, I again feel intense anger – intense “God drama pain” – flowing through me. Rather than fight and push the emotion down, I just let it flow, trying not to attach to it in any way, desperately wanting this putrid emotion to come up and out of me.
Survival Mode
Flashing forward to Tuesday, I engage in a brief-but-powerful Skype conversation with a dear friend who is following her own heart in the process of pulling up her roots and moving to a beautiful new location.
In the flow of the conversation, I learn how my friend’s son is using a combination of guilt and his own childhood pain to slam his mother – my friend – for abandoning him in order to follow her own heart.
Again, something very familiar triggers me, ever so slightly, taking me back to my own childhood – taking me to an unknown time and place where guilt and my parent’s own childhood pain was used to manipulate me into compliance and conformity.
It is a crazy Tuesday, with both the water and the electricity being off for almost eight hours. Then, when I go to a local restaurant for a late lunch, a friend engages me in a long crazy-making talk about US and world politics.
At the end of the day, as I prepare for bed, I am exhausted – yet there is no physical reason for this exhaustion.
Little by little, overwhelming energies, festering emotions, and external triggers are building, draining me; and I am ever so slowly slipping into survival mode.
Subtle Rebellion
Wednesday morning, in an effort to shift my moods, I take a three hour walk, high up on a mountainside to the east of Tzununa (a nearby Mayan village). By the end of my five or six mile hike I am physically exhausted, yet somewhat energetically revived at the same time.
After doing a little much-needed house cleaning, I begin to realize that what I am doing is not working – that I am slowly slipping into deep-but-subtle rebellion at my spiritual path – rebellion projected onto Keith and emotional inner-work in general – and at several specific others who have triggered me so deeply.
On the one hand, I know that all of the triggers have served me, and that all of the densities that surfaced as a result were my own. I take full ownership for them and love the growth that has resulted.
But on the other hand, the inner ego chatter is growing increasingly incessant, creating angry stories – vicious imagined projections onto Keith, and other magical people from the porch. This past year has been one of the most grueling experiences of my life. I would not wish what I have been through onto anyone. A huge eraser seems to be erasing all of the positives. I start to wallow in the pain of this year, beginning to blame Keith and others for causing and/or contributing to my pain.
In a desperate attempt to balance myself, realizing that I need to do something different to regain my slipping sanity, I begin to focus on “A Course In Miracles” (ACIM) – a path that continues to deeply inspire me, but one that I have mostly put on the shelf while following a similar-but-different path of working with my emotional blockages.
Remembering that I have audio files of a friend reading the entire text of ACIM, I re-immerse myself in the channeled words that have so deeply inspired me in the past, beginning with the first two chapters.
A Repeat Performance
But it is Thursday, August 30, when the real intensity begins. An intense mood consumes me from the moment of waking. Later in the day, after watching four more episodes of Glee, season three, I lose myself in the same attempted-suicide scene that nearly caused me to drown in agony at the end of June – the same hopelessness and life-threatening emotion that had nearly consumed me.
When I felt guided to revisit these videos, I had expected to find myself much more healed this time around. But as I watch the agonizing scene of a father finding his gay son almost dead in his bedroom, I go through another debilitating layer of my own repressed suicidal pain – an explosive layer of astounding intensity.
I sob and sob and sob, coughing uncontrollably while repeatedly dry-heaving as if my body is trying to turn itself inside out. When the release eventually subsides, I am drained, exhausted, and drowning in intense residual pain.
“It is time to heal this teenage stuff,” I tell myself in shock. “It is time to no longer be afraid of the social nightmare that continues to repeatedly trash my life with doubt, fear, and insecurity.”
“But how?” I ask myself with a feeling of all-too-familiar hopelessness.
Repeated Waves, Repeated Doubts
At 10:30 p.m. I retire to my bed, hoping for some rest. But deep suicidal sadness quickly takes over. Another round of gut-wrenching sobs and dry-heaving consumes me for about fifteen minutes. Then, after a short pause, another wave rages through like a flash flood of fiery lava, leaving me in a state of drained exhaustion.
Suddenly, two deep sneezes fill me with delightful energy – energy that temporarily brings magical relief – fleeting but real relief.
As midnight rolls by, I am still wide awake – wanting to, but unable to meditate – unable to find motivation to even attempt to regain that temporarily delightful energy.
“I am lost,” I ponder in agony. “I stirred up this next emotional layer on purpose. I intentionally revisited the videos and wanted to go into them so that I could heal more deeply, but had no idea that it would so overwhelmingly devastate me … again.”
“I am terrified to ever go here again,” I continue in shock.
I am doubting everything, feeling the hopelessness and futility, wondering if I will ever be able to heal this. But still, a sense of inner confidence tells me I am on the right path – that I can get through this – that I can and must do it – that I must do it via my own personal self-love and divine connection on the inside.
Kamikaze Determination
As if on a Kamikaze mission, I decide to drink chocolate at around 11:00 a.m. on Friday morning – the final day of August, 2012. I am determined to work through and release this relentless emotion – and am still quite naïve as to the immensity of its putrid power.
Almost immediately, a swirling maze of intense emotional energy fills my abdomen. As the intense feelings surface, I willingly surrender to another round of deep sobs and gut-wrenching dry heaves.
A river of anger flows through me, followed by a flood of deep sadness. Determined to feel the emotion to the core, I allow it to flow, knowing that without the aide of higher energies, this is the only way that I know how to let this emotion leave me.
Frustration builds – anger builds – anger that the higher energies are not assisting me – anger that I am still doing all of this the hard way, on the hard bus. My anger soon spreads to be projected onto Keith, onto all of the magical people on the porch, and even onto all of San Marcos and Guatemala in General. Deep down, I know that the anger is really my own internal God drama being projected onto any and all available outside targets.
“I was spiritually empowered before I came to San Marcos and started doing inner work with Keith,” a silent inner voice desperately screams in my head. “I am far worse off now than when I got here over two years ago. I am going insane rather than healing. I don’t want to be here for another season of inner work.”
But even in the agonizing pain, I realize that Keith really has been helping me – that all of this putrid emotion really was locked away inside of me, and that it really does need to come out – that these very emotions are what is blocking me from allowing the higher energies to assist me. I know that these blocks must be released in order to allow divine love that I crave to fill my being.
Magical Assistance
With deep determination, I begin to focus on connecting with higher energies.
“I need to hold space for myself,” I ponder.
“How do I do that?” I search for inner guidance.
“Oh yeah, I need to bring energy into my heart and radiate it outward, just like I have done countless times in the past,” I respond in silent meditation.
I begin to breathe deep and slow, focusing on inhaling love, and then radiating it back to that suicidal inner teenage boy that is so lost inside of me. The energy feels nice, and the emotion that was so intensely consuming me soon and unexpectedly vanishes to nothingness.
I can only assume that it was transmuted by the light.
A White-Out Pen
Now, feeling quite connected, I begin to meditate.
“I have a huge magical eraser,” I ponder with clarity. “When I get into intense heavy emotion, I quickly forget all of my good and magical experiences.”
I take this meditation deeper and deeper, and soon realize that this magic eraser served me profoundly when I was a teenager. I used that eraser to wipe away all of the pain – pain that would have killed me if I had not been able to suppress and hide it – at least a major portion of it.
“This eraser helped me survive, but now it no longer serves me,” I ponder with both gratitude and confusion. “How do I stop doing this? How can I remain connected to the light?”
As I continue taking the metaphor deeper, I realize that it is not an eraser at all, but is instead a “white-out” pen – one that has simply heaped layer after layer of whitewash on top of my pain.
“I never released any of that emotion when I was young,” I ponder with clarity. “It is all still inside me, covered by whitewash that helped me survive, but still deeply influencing my life in quite dysfunctional ways.”
An Inspired Pep Talk
Soon, I ask all of my inner energies to join me in a metaphorical inner conference room.
“I want all of the healed energies to join me,” I begin, “and I also want those who are still in progress, and especially the lurkers who are too afraid to step out of the shadows. I want all of you to join me for a heart-to-heart conversation.”
After sharing a pep talk with my energies, I then get deeply genuine and honest about my failures as their leader – my failures in giving them the love and respect that they each deserved from me. I apologize for heaping layer after layer of crap onto them. I let them know I am striving to regain their trust, and ask them to please support me and help me in this difficult task.
Finally, I invite my Higher Self to join us, asking these inner energies to work directly with my Higher Self while I simply step back and hold space while meditating for a while.
Overall, I feel quite proud of my progress in this profound meditation – but am still quite overwhelmed by the roller coaster ride on which I have found myself.
Attack of the Squeamys
After a brief interruption and beautiful heart-sharing talk with my friend Sufi, I return to quiet meditation, simply holding space for myself, breathing deeply, and relaxing.
Suddenly, as 5:00 p.m. approaches, I begin to panic. A sense of intense distraction and inability to focus consumes me. Every cell in my body seems to be shaking with agonizing fear. The panic is throughout my body, but primarily focused in the abdominal region. I soon recognize this as something that Keith has often called “Squeamys” – a sensation of squirming and screaming at the cellular level.
I recognize this sensation as extremely familiar. In fact, I have felt it many times before when I attempted to deeply meditate and connect with higher energies. In the past, when I have felt this frightening and uncomfortable sensation, I have always freaked out and immediately abandoned my quest, running away to a distraction.
“I am going to go right through this intense squeamy panic,” I tell myself with determination. “I now see this for what it is – that every cell in my body is terrified of further connecting with the light.”
An Agonizing-But-Rewarding Hour
As I push through the panic, refusing to back away, it gets stronger. I am quickly immersed in what I can only describe as a full-scale panic attack that begins in my abdomen, then manifests in my forehead, then to my heart chakra, and randomly surfaces as freak-out sensations all over my body.
Eventually, the intensity focuses mainly in my abdomen, heart, forehead, and forearms. I find myself loving the process. I smile into it with love and compassion – with a total absence of judgment. I simply watch and observe, holding my ground, refusing to run away.
But to be truthful, this is one of the most intensely difficult and agonizing meditations of my life. For more than an hour I struggle, committed to surrender and allow, committed to loving observation of what is overwhelmingly crazy panic.
At 6:00 p.m. I finally decide I have had enough and I end the meditation. I feel quite proud of myself.
“For the first time EVER I pushed through this feeling without running away from it,” I congratulate myself.
I have no idea as to the nature of the emotions that were releasing themselves at the cellular level. I do not try to analyze any of it with my head. All I can do is trust that something very profound was moving out of me, and doing so at a level completely separate from the mind.
Convincing Distractions
It seems that I am a dedicated and determined glutton for punishment.
After a lazy Saturday morning, I gobble down a ceremonial dose of chocolate with my oatmeal and dive back into serious meditation, desiring to recreate yesterday’s experience and to go even deeper.
After about three hours I begin to go into the physical stir-crazy squeamys for about twenty minutes, but there is no panic. But by 3:30 p.m., I enter a state of extreme distraction.
The insistence that “I’m done for today,” repeatedly consumes my thought process, and almost convinces me. I am thoroughly overwhelmed by the feelings of distractions – almost succumbing to them.
“Wait,” I suddenly ponder, “this distraction is ego trying to get me to stop.”
Not trusting my own judgment, I pull a tarot card, asking if I should continue meditating and the message I get clearly tells me to continue. I dive back in to the craziness.
Pushing the Limits
Shortly before 6:00 p.m., I reach a state of deep anxiety. My body physically shakes with aching and twitching as anxiety and nervous energies consume my heart and high-heart regions. This intense fearful anxiety continues for a very long time as I focus on my breath – breathing in love and releasing fear.
Finally, defying logic, I ask my angels and guides to step it up a notch. Quickly, I experience a great deal of twitching throughout my upper high heart region. It is a very sharp pain, but feels magical at the same time. Soon, the pain starts to intensify at that “nail-in-my-heart” spot, at the very center of my heart chakra. Slowly the pain begins to migrate, moving downward until it ends up in the upper solar plexus region. I am actually grateful when the pain moves, because it confirms that what I am feeling is energetic and not a physical malady.
As the pain pulses in my solar plexus I recognize what I already clearly know … that I have intense blockages in this region. I push onward with the meditation, observing as my entire abdomen aches with this pain. The agitation in my solar plexus is intense as I begin to imagine a river of dense energy shooting out of my body, releasing to the angels for transmutation.
Eventually the pain grows much lighter, leaving me with an almost-giggle on my face. I know that something very powerful happened, but I am exhausted and fatigued – very emotionally scattered from the intensity of what I just put myself through.
Recognizing that I have clearly done enough for the day, I focus on inviting the higher light and love to fill all of the spaces left empty by the now-released emotional density. Finally, at 6:00 p.m. I end the meditation, feeling settled and drained.
Before bed, I listen to additional chapters of ACIM and watch a couple more episodes of Glee.
As I sleep, I clearly recognize that something is shifting inside, as I am aware that a great deal of energy seems to be flowing in areas where I have never before felt such energy.
A Heart-Felt Journey
Sunday, I again feel a strong urge to push forward, again focusing on a long day of solo meditation.
After about three hours I feel guided to direct the meditation into a metaphorical journey of increasing self-love. For several additional hours, I work my way through this inner journey, beginning by focusing self love and forgiveness on my baby-self, gradually increasing the age, and eventually ending with my twelve-year-old self – that young boy who shamed me so deeply when he went to the swimming pool in a bikini on that late summer day in 1967.
With each step of the meditation I find great peace, great love, and great forgiveness – but I am also quite clear that I am far from finished – that much resistance to true unconditional love yet remains.
At a logical level, I clearly recognize that there is nothing to forgive – that throughout every step of this journey I have acted from a place of purity and loving innocence in my heart – but understanding that and actually putting it into heart-felt practice are two completely different things.
Stuck Intense Energy
It is only during the latter stages of this meditation that much of my bottled-up projected anger begins to also release and flow out of me.
“Perhaps I might be able to stay in San Marcos for another season after all,” I begin to ponder. “Maybe I will just back off, not do so many chocolate ceremonies, and perhaps actually start to write my book.”
The thought of another year like the last one still seems unbearable – something I would rather die than repeat.
As I prepare for bed on this Sunday evening, September 2, 2012, my body really hurts, especially in my shoulders – mostly in my shoulders and my head.
As I ponder further, I realize that the aching in my head is really an overwhelming deposit of stuck and intense higher energy, trapped in my head, driving me slightly insane because it is not moving or flowing anywhere, just pulsing with energetic pressure.
Unexpected Grief
I wake up on Monday morning with fluid in my lungs – something that has been happening now for four days in a row. As I cough out the yuck, I clearly recognize that I am again experiencing physical metaphors that have frequently surfaced in my process many times during the last year.
It seems that no matter what I do now, intense emotions are being triggered. After yet another mid-morning trip to the dentist to have the “pin” put in my tooth (preparation for the crown), I surrender to exhaustion and decide to watch a movie – a movie that I have always loved ever since the first time I saw it in the theater.
At one particularly intense and tragic moment in “Bridge to Terabithia” – a part where a magical young girl dies – I suddenly burst into an intense sobbing/ dry-heaving fit. I have watched this movie many times, and even read the book, and have never felt this emotion like this – never.
When the overwhelmingly intense emotions clear, I spend time in deep reflection. It seems that, as a child, I was deeply conditioned not to grieve. I do not remember ever being explicitly taught such a silly lesson – but I clearly remember my uncontrollable crying as a child – and I clearly remember feeling the deep frustration of my mother when she struggled to “help” me to stop crying.
Pondering Self-Sabotage and Fear
Early Tuesday morning, I wake up twice with deep coughing fits. All of the emotional intensity is taking a physical toll, and I am beginning to feel the stress. Perhaps I was pushing myself too hard – so hard that I am turning everything into work and pressure – so hard that I am actually considering a week-long silent retreat in which I will do nothing but meditate every day, all day long.
I want to do it, but at the same time I am frightened because I do not believe I can actually meditate with that intensity – because I think I will go stir-crazy with distraction and anxiety – because a self-sabotaging part of me knows I will fail if I try.
But something inside of me insists that I should attack and plow right through that fear with a big stick. Not exactly the wisest plan in the book.
Surfacing Projections
After a Wednesday morning at the dentist (final preparations for the crown), I am tired and unmotivated, crashing into a blob of escape … aka videos.
Thursday, I eagerly jump right into meditation, having a beautiful day, including a delightful visit with my friend Sufi who unexpectedly stops by in the early afternoon.
Friday, not too far into another full day of meditation, I momentarily lose myself in anger and judgment when a young Mayan man walks below my apartment window loudly playing an off-key trombone. He continues playing loudly nearby, from the center of town, driving me batty.
In an act of curious self-discovery, I temporarily abandon my meditation to go observe the young man from afar. When I see his face, I note that he is having a great deal of fun.
“Wow,” I ponder as I suddenly fill with insights. “I was not allowed to be noisy when having fun as a child. All of my fun had to be quiet and proper.”
“No wonder I feel such severe judgment toward this young man,” I continue. “I am outwardly projecting my own inner judgment at noisy fun – judgment taught to me by my mother. It seems that an angry inner part of me wants to project this severe judgment at anyone who is having any type of noisy fun that does not directly involve me.”
After this brief ego distraction, I return to my full day of meditation – a meditation that turns out to be quite beautiful, with nice energy … but nothing extraordinary.
Persistent Elephant Ropes
As Friday, September 7, 2012 comes to an end, I have no idea regarding the wave of intensity that is about to hit. I do not yet know it, but I am about to have my faced rubbed in the sand as more and more of my inner densities start to manifest in the form of inner trauma and drama projected outward. In the midst of my intense meditations of this past week, I have been bringing in a little more light that I am used to – and perhaps I have been pushing the river just a bit too hard, trying to force my process beyond my mental and emotional limits.
The intensity of the last three weeks has been overwhelming … but somehow manageable.
I have been strong enough that I have repeatedly succeeded in owning and healing my projections as they have come up – strong enough that I have repeatedly dived to the bottom of unexpected deep emotional release and then returned to the light. Over and over, I have pushed myself into intense inner work, and somehow found the strength to crawl back onto my surfboard and ride the wave of light after each episode.
But it seems that the elephant ropes of my childhood conditioning are about to grab my leg and pull me backward with their imaginary power. It seems that old limitations and beliefs are about to suck me into the quicksand of perceived failure and frustration.
Deep inside I still hang onto a belief that those invisible elephant ropes will keep me from succeeding – constantly taunting me, reminding me that I have failed every time I tried in the past.
But that story will have to wait for another day.
… to be continued …
Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved