Note: This is a continuation from my previous blog titled “Hiding in A Cage.”
Sunday morning, December 9, 2012, I continue to avoid myself by watching videos, but today I spend my time watching spiritually uplifting material – two different videos with Neale Donald Walsh and Louise Hay respectively. As I finally change out of my pajamas and walk toward Keith’s porch, a traveler on the street engages me in intense fixing conversation.
“You need to find crystal clear goals, make firm plans, and manifest abundance,” This woman begins to badger me with her un-asked-for opinions. “You need to read so-and-so book, and oh, this other self-help book too, that would really help you to get grounded again, blah, blah, blah.”
I giggle inside as I politely thank her for her suggestions, struggling to find a loving way to say, “Please, go away, everything you are saying strikes me with judgment, make-wrong, and fixing energy.
The woman exhibits no perceived understanding of where I am at in my process, and is desperately trying to bring me back to her version of consensus reality. Every word from her mouth reeks with “you are wrong to be where you are at; I know better, and I am trying to help you.”
Somehow, I gently manage to express appreciation for her words and intentions. I am quite proud of myself for lovingly allowing her to have her own truth while not allowing her reality to dominate mine.
Empathic Reminders
After drinking my chocolate in a ceremony with only twelve people, my abdomen almost immediately swells with bloated pain as familiar emotional metaphors seek my loving attention. The pain is so intense that not judging it proves to be quite difficult.
As Keith guides the “glow” meditation, he glances at me and makes eye contact. I point at my abdomen and let him know through gestures and facial expressions just how much it hurts.
“Brenda,” Keith interrupts the meditation, “imagine that a connection of light is joining you to about eighty percent of the group, and that you are taking their energy into you. Focus either on letting it run through you with less resistance or on moving that assemblage point out of you to where it belongs.”
I am deeply grateful for Keith’s quick feedback, letting me know that my initial flooding with pain is indeed another profound adventure with my empath magic – one I continue to experience on the hard bus. I clearly recognize that I am again eating the painful emotions of others. The “assemblage point” that Keith refers to – the place in my energy field where I receive such emotions from others before passing them on for transmutation – well that place is still inside my abdomen rather than being out in front of me where it belongs, thus causing me to painfully feel every emotion that flows through me.
An Agonizing Understanding
I focus on trying to move that energetic point out of my body, but all “effort” proves futile. Instead, the overwhelming pain just increases. Soon, as I focus on trying to learn from the pain, I realize that I am again experiencing exactly what little Sharon felt (my inner child) – and how she received absolutely no validation for doing it. What has already been a profound rational-mind understanding quickly takes on another layer of deep experiential “heart” understanding. I am physically re-living the pain of a tiny child taking in the agonizing emotional energies of everyone around her.
“No wonder Sharon is hiding in that metaphorical cage in my abdomen,” I ponder. “She is pissed, angry, rebellious, belligerent, self-loathing, and throwing tantrums. She refuses to cooperate … wanting nothing more to do with her magic … still refusing to come out of the cage … feeling betrayed that she cannot verbalize the pain to her parents and others, because when she tries to explain and / or defend herself, she gets punished for pain that is not even hers.”
As these agonizing realizations filter into internal understanding, I enter a short stage of intense, heavy, angry emotion of my own, holding back on external expression as a huge wave of dry-heaving throws another layer of this putrid pain out of my body.
A Little Troll
When Keith finishes his first circle around the porch, I fill him in on my journey, telling him that I am trying to imagine one of my granddaughters sitting with, and holding Sharon’s hand.
“But Sharon is rejecting my granddaughter’s help,” I explain to Keith. “My granddaughter’s energy is NOT welcome in that lonely cage … she is too happy and giggly for Sharon’s liking.”
“Brenda,” Keith assists me, “I’m being guided to have you invite a troll-like character to join Sharon in her cage, to come in and work with her. He is about Sharon’s size, very magical, but misshapen from the pain and struggle.”
To my surprise, after spending a few minutes playing with this metaphor, I suddenly discover that the troll is Yoda from the Star Wars movies … and I am delighted when intuitions indicate that Sharon is very eager to work with Yoda. I visualize them having conversations and I giggle as Yoda speaks to her in his backwards grammar style.
“Hmmm … hurting we are,” Yoda tells Sharon, “Magical and angry we are … Strong is the dark side you feel …”
There is a beautiful energetic connection between Sharon and Yoda. She profoundly relates to him and trusts his magic … much more so than she trusts her own magic. Sharon eagerly encourages Yoda to work with her. Over the next hour or so as I imagine these subconscious playmates metaphorically conversing, I experience a considerable lightening of the heavy energies inside. Yet I still know that a great deal of repressed anger remains.
“I now understand why I am still projecting so much anger onto magical young people who seem to open their magic and power with such ease,” I later explain to Keith. “Sharon is extremely angry that her magic was profoundly and brutally repressed. She deeply resents anyone who reminds her of that shut down magical side. She feels traumatized by the magic. It hurts. She was slammed for having it, and experienced overwhelming physical pain as a result of it, continuing to carry huge deposits of that density inside from so very long ago.”
“She still refuses to open up,” I add. “My heart right now feels so cramped and squished.”
Learning By Teaching
Soon, my attention is drawn to a young man across the porch – a young man struggling to find the courage to allow his emotions to surface. I begin to hold space from afar, ignoring inner urges to move closer. Keith is talking to him and I do not want to interfere.
But finally, responding to increasingly strong and persistent inner guidance, I stand up and move to a spot right in front of the young man, literally sitting between Keith and him. Without asking permission from Keith, I take over the conversation, beginning to coach the young man to trust his emotions, to find the courage to feel them deeper. Intuitions tell me he is dealing with deeply repressed anger.
“If you need to get angry to release this repressed emotion, here is a pillow you can punch,” I guide the young man. “That will really help you to access the pain.”
I quickly place a cushion between us. I can feel his buried anger and I resonate deeply with his pain. For several minutes, I hold space and guide him deeper and deeper, never pushing, only encouraging him to trust himself.
As I begin to make vocal tones with the young man to help him express his buried pain through the throat chakra, Keith touches me on the arm and guides me to lightly-but-firmly tap on the center of the young man’s heart chakra. I had already been wanting to do this, but was not trusting my feelings. Immediately, I respond to Keith’s confirming guidance, using the base of my right hand to lightly vibrate the center of the young man’s chest.
Still sensing his buried anger, I lightly punch on the pillow between us, encouraging him to join me, to let his anger up and out. I am delighted when his own fists briefly strike the pillow, gently allowing his hidden pain to surface. I then lovingly use vocal tones to encourage him to express his pain – an auditory expression that soon reaches the level of a wailing screech of agony.
To my shock, as this happens, I lose myself in my own wailing screech of agonizing release. As I do so, I am profoundly aware that many others on the porch suddenly give themselves permission to go into their own versions of deep release. I dry heave for a minute or two, intuitively knowing that this is another profound layer of Sharon’s repressed anger finally finding release.
After a few minutes, feeling complete in my own process, I coach the young man in front of me to begin bringing in light to fill all of the space that was occupied by heavy density. I do the same with my own empty spaces.
Inner Trust And Peace
For the next half hour or so, I hold beautiful space for this young man, filling myself with light while abundantly flowing loving energy in his direction. Meanwhile, Keith proceeds to do deep work with others around the porch who have now magically opened up to their own vulnerability and emotional release.
Later, while sitting back in my own seat, I feel deep gratitude for the synchronous flow in which I was guided to actively participate. I helped someone else, and the process also served me deeply.
“You were perfect with what you did,” Keith later shares when I check in to make sure I had not stepped on his toes.
Later, as Keith works with a woman across the porch, I suddenly begin to swell up in my own abdomen, yet I note that my heart feels open and peaceful. I point at my abdomen and speak up when Keith glances my way.
“Am I just reading her energy?” I ask with deep-but-confident curiosity.
“Yes you are,” Keith glows back at me.
As I later walk home, I resonate with peace, recognizing that I am slowly returning to my old self, trusting inner guidance and intuitions, and starting to see beautiful results.
Moving Forward
Early Monday morning, I awaken at 4:00 a.m., filled with clear memories of a very vivid dream. It was an extremely crazy-making dream filled with constant confusion of not being able to move forward. There were weird taxi cab experiences, my own car that was unknowingly moved by a family member to a different parking lot, and a young boy seeking help with a bicycle on which the chain had come off – a chain that I help him put back onto the sprocket.
“All of these dream metaphors take me to periods of my life where I have been unable to ‘move forward’,” I later ponder with clarity. “During my life I have had repeated dreams where I needed to run forward, but struggled even to lift my feet in the forward direction. In most of those dreams, I learned that if I turned around and ran backwards, that I could actually move with speed.”
It is only in this pondering that I realize that “forward” was the direction of the conditioned world around me – a direction in which I was not supposed to continue moving – and that going backward from conventional wisdom was indeed the only way for me to move.
In the midst of this same early-morning dream – in the middle of the crazy making and trying to put things right – I found myself walking through a mall, up some stairs, and through a mirrored room where a dance rehearsal was in process. As I walk in front of the mirrors, I note that I am dressed in a beautiful white dress.
“It is time to walk forward in ‘my own direction’ with beautiful confidence,” I giggled before waking up. “It is time to put my shoulders back and love myself.”
It is immediately after this “white dress” scene that I do finally wake up. I am confused, angry, overwhelmed by the residual emotions that linger in this physical reality after such a bizarre and crazy-making dream.
A Tiny Toddler
Further meditation regarding this nighttime adventure takes me back to childhood – to how I felt as a tiny toddler – to how the authority figures in my life expected me to follow them blindly. But I resisted, not being able to move forward in their direction. In my confusion, I was labeled as strong-willed, rebellious, and disobedient, frequently getting my mouth washed out with soap and cayenne pepper sprinkled on my tongue. I was made to believe that I was the one who should feel guilty if I could not embrace the “forward” movement of others.
Words do not do justice to this lingering and angry emotion that rages inside me. Regardless of how I attempt to shake off this dreamtime reality, the emotions cling to my soul in the waking world. I absolutely understand that nothing in the present-day physical world is responsible, but nevertheless I feel deeply emotional, profoundly made-crazy, agonizingly misjudged and made wrong, and struggling with a deep understanding of how, as a child, I was forced to conform to the consensus reality. In fact, I was terrified of having love withheld if I did not do things just right.
I lay in bed for several hours, meditating with the emotion, sifting through childhood memories, some old and some newly remembered. As I deeply explore such prominent emotional recollections from the past, inner awareness and understanding deepens.
A Broken Horse
When I think of my childhood, the majority of physical memories are of a mostly normal, happy upbringing – one of growing up in a loving, religious, middle-class family, experiencing nothing that society would even slightly consider as abuse. My parents did indeed do the best they knew how, teaching me to walk in their footsteps, in every way possible.
But as I venture ever deeper down the rabbit hole, I am constantly blown away by new layers of insights that continue to unfold regarding the subtle nature of childhood conditioning in our culture. These are insights profoundly showing me how a normal, loving, and seemingly innocuous home environment can leave such profound emotional wounds on a magical child that does not fit in with the norms.
As I meditate in my bed after this emotion-triggering dream, I clearly see how I was broken like a horse. My free spirit and creative individuality were obliterated at a very young age. It was a ruthless, ongoing, and sometimes brutal culturally-sanctioned training process – one performed by parents, religion, schools, and peers – one innocently designed to turn me into a loving, obedient child – into a robotic, rational-minded sheep.
Agony fills my heart as I again feel little Sharon in that cage, angrily protesting, refusing to cooperate, feeling betrayed by the God-figures in her life, crazy-made by parents, made wrong by family, church, and culture, taught to conform, obey, tow the line, and to “fear” God. All of her inner magic was rejected and destroyed; all her hopes had vanished. Pure and unconditional divine love was rejected by those around her, being replaced with a counterfeit – a fake, culturally accepted, conditional love used to manipulate and control – a fake love that felt like a leash around her neck.
These are Sharon’s emotions … these are MY emotions … agonizingly vivid and painful emotions of how it feels to be broken and programmed in the name of conditional love. Finally, after three intense hours of painful reflection and emotional release, I have achieved a state of true compassion for little Sharon, and what she went through.
The Hard Bus
This new wave of emotion dangles a perfect hook in front of me, begging me to dive down into the putrid depths for another loop through my God-drama. I refuse to go there, but for the next several hours, the mind-chattering temptation remains deeply inviting.
Rather than slip into another repeat loop of experiencing agonizing betrayal, I meditate on how I can expand my practice of feeling unconditional love – not just for family and friends, but for everyone, especially those who seem to trigger me.
Today is the first of what will soon be regular Monday and Thursday chocolate ceremonies – ceremonies not open to the general public and tourists – ceremonies instead focused on giving those who resonate with Keith’s approach an opportunity to go deeper into their inner work, with a little more personal attention.
After drinking chocolate early on this Monday afternoon, Keith almost immediately turns to me and asks how I am doing. I quickly explain my deep emotional journey.
“Keith,” I beg for clarity, “am I just manifesting layer after endless layer of pointless emotional density as one person harshly suggested in that final ceremony on June 30?”
“No, Brenda,” Keith responds with compassion. “I’m getting that this is not that … that this is another real layer. You are still unable to do the easy bus so you need to do it the hard way … on the hard bus … without the assistance of Higher Dimensional Energies.”
God Drama Roots
As Keith works with someone else, a friend soon mentions that she is suddenly feeling pain in her solar plexus. When I hear these words, I realize that I too just felt a sharp kick of agonizing pain in my own solar plexus. When asked, Keith confirms with a smile that we are both reading the energy of the woman with whom he is currently working.
“This is why my little girl is so angry,” I express to Keith with renewed insight as I begin to cry. “She took in all of this pain as a child, and was then punished for it … and if she tried to speak the truth she was punished for that. Her magical self just got her in more trouble … and more punished. She is angry, rebellious, belligerent, and resentful … and every time I dip into feeling her emotion (my own past emotion), it overwhelms me and becomes present-day projected reality.”
We again discus the concept of God / separation drama, and how I absolutely know that this is the game I am playing with God – that I feel so betrayed by this childhood reality that I still refuse to allow Higher Energies to assist me.
“I now clearly own that this is what I am doing,” I state to Keith with conviction. “I can see how I have been looping through it over and over, but I feel helpless to stop.”
A Higher Purpose
For the next ninety minutes, I sit on my pillow, meditating in agony as Keith again works with others. Finally, Keith returns to check in with me.
“I am struggling, and it has taken every ounce of my strength not to just grab my stuff and run away from the porch,” I fill Keith in on my journey. “I feel so rebellious … so shut down … so hopeless and stuck … and I know it is NOT TRUE. Even so, I am projecting all of this onto you and others.”
“I see what I am doing,” I add. “I know it is my inner pain that I do not want to own, so I project it outward … but it is so real that I get lost in it.”
A couple of woman quickly give their “fixing advice” – advice that I know comes from a genuine place of observing and wanting to help – advice that is quite accurate at an energetic level. But I also know that neither of them truly has compassion for the dilemma in which I find myself, nor do they exhibit understanding with ‘why’ I remain so stuck.
“I know nothing is wrong with me or my process,” I silently remind myself. “I know this is all happening for a reason … as part of the flow that I designed at a higher level of myself. I know it is part of my learning so that I can help others.”
Ever Deeper
Keith again shares his own God-drama journey with the group, helping others to understand where I am at in my process.
On the surface, at a conscious thought level, I desperately seek a loving connection with Deity, but deep down inside, at a level I have refused to fully acknowledge and own in the past, I am terrified of making that connection.
In very real ways, it feels as if doing so would be like asking a hypothetical close friend – one who might have massively betrayed me yesterday – to lovingly help me today. The very thought makes me rise up in indignant anger and say “Hell no, you are not getting near to me until you apologize for what you did to me … for how you hurt and betrayed me.”
“I clearly own that this is what I am doing now,” I beg Keith for guidance, “yet that betrayal emotion inside remains so strong … so angry … so wounded …that the very act of connecting with that emotion frightens me. Even touching that emotion in the tiniest of waves often causes me to be sucked in … to feel consumed by it … to get lost … and then I do not want out of the loop.”
“Yet it is this very Higher Dimensional Energy that I must connect with in order to heal the loop,” I continue. “I feel hopelessly stuck in an unsolvable blockage, keeping me stuck on the hard bus.”
A Simple Truth
Keith then again shares more details of his own God drama journey – doing so in vague, high-level stories.
“Keith,” I beg, “I have heard all of that a thousand times. “I do not need to hear how you recognized your God drama … I need to hear how you found your way out of it … how you healed and released your God drama. I need help in knowing how to stop playing the games with Deity … help in how to move through it.”
Keith stops and goes inside for a few minutes, searching for something useful to say.
“Brenda,” Keith finally shares, “The best I can tell you is that I finally reached a point where I realized that what I was doing was not working … that it would never work no matter how many times I tried it … and I went from there.”
As simple as this advice is, something inside deeply resonates. I understand clearly that Keith knows what I am going through, but that he cannot make this journey for me … that it is something only I can do, in my own unique way, listening to my own inner guidance, establishing my own trusted connection to my own Higher Energies. As frightening as the thought is, it is time to follow my own advice … recognizing that this is an “Inside Job” and that I have to change something on the inside before the outside reality will shift.
Much Craved Feedback
Even so, I beg Keith for more guidance. I point out how I have repeatedly watched him “hold back” in not sharing a Higher Truth with someone who simply could not hear it – of how he knew that they would only reject his words if he tried, and that he was serving the highest good by only telling them what they were able to accept at the time.
In the moment, I am so frustrated in my frightened projections that I actually use the word “lie” (referring to Keith’s holding back). But in retrospect, I absolutely know that Keith always lovingly strives to meet people where they are at, not pushing advice onto someone who is unable to hear, and not judging them for being in such a state of denial.
I beg Keith to reassure me that right now, he is not holding back some hard truth from me … that there is nothing I am doing that is causing him not to share what might be more helpful understandings.
“Brenda,” Keith responds, “I can honestly tell you that I have never felt a need to hold back in working with you in any way. There is just nothing more I can tell you to help right now.”
Keith then proceeds to share loving feedback … feedback regarding how beautiful my writing is … of how brilliant (his word) I am in my processing and understanding … how up to now, all of my struggling has been perfect and that I designed it this way in order to learn what I came to this life to learn.
True Compassion
“But I’m getting that you have nothing more to learn from this emotional loop on the hard bus,” Keith then shares with honesty. “You have learned everything about it that you need to know, and you are probably looping unnecessarily in it now.”
“What you are doing is deeply advanced work,” Keith continues. “Most of the magical healers on the porch will eventually hit their walls and have to do the same work. Most healers will need to do it, and it will all happen in their own way, in their own proper timing.”
I feel deeply validated by Keith’s praise and honest feedback – and by his solid reassurance that my process has not been wrong, even though some very magical people on the porch have indeed insisted to my face that it WAS wrong.
Keith then again reminds me that he went through several years of humiliation in his own processing group – something that was profoundly necessary for him to learn compassion. I too clearly understand that much of my learning process has been about exactly that … to learn true compassion for others who might be as stuck as I have been.
Lost In War
Later Monday evening, as I take notes regarding an intense emotional journey, I ponder many alternatives of what “doing something different” might look like.
As much as my rational mind would love to just run away and return to a “normal” life, my heart insists that I am right where I need to be. I just need to approach the next phase of my journey with a new openness to following the flow, going wherever it may take me, while refusing to allow myself to take the bait that will suck me to the depths of my God drama loop.
As I prepare for bed, I am again exhausted and rebellious, ready to throw in the proverbial towel, beating myself up for the stuckness.
“I am taking on the role of my mother,” I ponder with clarity. “I am shutting myself down, being brutal with judgment and condemnation of the magical part of me.”
“In fact,” the understandings continue flowing, “I am literally at war with this magical part of me. The answer is to put down the weapons and to love ALL of me … all parts of me … including both the victim and the accuser.
I know this … I have known this for some time.
“But HOW do I do this?” I ponder in confusion. “Every time I go deep, I slip right back into that same war.”
I am so lost.
New Guidance And Confirmation
Tuesday, after an exhausting night of very little rest, I spend the morning staring at a computer screen, mostly playing mindless games … numb, unable to motivate myself. Finally, I surrender to guidance and do something I was first inspired to do in September. I even bought a new notebook back then, but was never able to convince myself to follow through. In desperation, I grab a pen, sit down on my daybed, and begin to scribble in that notebook, speedwriting as fast as I can, recording every random thought that screams out of my head. I am delighted an hour later, when the process seems to have returned me to a semblance of balance.
In my new state of peace, I head to lunch at my favorite burger spot and make a Skype call to my friend and soul sister Michelle.
When I tell my dear friend that I unexpectedly reconnected with Sharon in her cage, Michelle gets shivers and goose bumps before starting to randomly channel a great deal of insight and wisdom that flows through her in the form of visual images and clear detailed feelings.
Michelle says she can actually see Sharon literally screaming inside of me, shaking her head in agony and anger, throwing a tantrum because of how the density she took in feels.
“Brenda,” Michelle suddenly shifts. “I’m seeing a large black rock in your abdomen (metaphorical blockage); it looks like a piece of hot lava.”
“Yeah,” I respond with excited clarity,” I’m getting that this is the horrible density at the bottom of that barrel that I have not yet been able to get close to. I’m feeling that if I try to process that emotional pain on the hard bus that I will literally die in some way … or at least bawl my brains out for years or lifetimes to come. I clearly get that this pain is beyond my ability to process in the old way. This is my un-climbable wall, my impassable switchback.”
“I have to find a new way to release it,” I express my desperation to Michelle.
“I am seeing that the rock can transmute to a clear crystal,” Michelle continues her insights, “and that when you can do so, you will be overflowing with beautiful magic, beyond your present beliefs. You will light up and be flowing with Higher Vibrations that will then give you clarity on your next guidance.”
As Michelle again emphasizes on how clearly she is seeing Sharon and the putrid black rock, she also mentions that my guides are standing there nodding their heads, confirming what she is telling me. They tell her to let me know that they could pass along more guidance through Michelle, but that it would not serve me … that I need to find these answers by establishing a direct connection with my Source.
“You are still talking in other peoples’ density without being aware of it,” Michelle continues channeling insights, “and this is plugging you up so that you spend a great deal of your time unplugging that density rather than being able to work on your own issues.”
“How on earth are you even able to sleep at night,” Michelle asks with shock as she feels the agonizing intensity of Sharon’s pain and this large blob of rock-like black density still inside of me.
Emotions Before Experience
I am deeply gifted by this phone conversation. I believe and resonate with everything that came through. I know that I can make it through this putrid, betrayal, suicidal swamp of emotional density. I know that I have been, and still am, my own worst enemy. I know that all of the answers are within me, yet this dark emotion is doing everything to convince me that I do not want those answers … that I first want my apology from God for the perceived betrayal before I will allow and act on those answers.
As I ponder, I am drawn back to a Facebook posting from Matt Kahn (Sacred Heart Wisdom from Matt Kahn) – one that I first read this morning. It is long, but also very deep and profound. Following are the first three paragraphs of that quote.
Many believe they cannot be content until they’re free. In reality, you cannot experience freedom until you’re content. Once this is accepted, you allow yourself to accept here as the only location where the grace of being content is found.
The dream insists it’s always over there, but as soon as you get wherever over there is imagined to be, you are here once again. If you’ve spent a lot of time traveling toward there, you may discover an inability to settle here and discover how free and content you already are. Instead, judgments arise to discredit the appearance of here, leading you toward another destination that always seems to be over there somewhere.
Whether in search of freedom, enlightenment, a soul mate, or some sense of acceptance, the never-ending journey towards there exhausts you to the point where you cannot proceed any further. Once this naturally occurs, there is nothing else but the settling into here, where the freedom of being is discovered at last. From this space, you may realize that no matter how life appears, content is always free. Since content is always free, it cannot be victimized in any possible way. Equally so, content is the only reality within you that is capable of being honest. It does so naturally because it has no motive to move away from here in search of whatever is imagined over there.
….
www.truedivinenature.com
As I read these words, I realize I am still doing the “searching” thing, looking for the truth as a future thing that eludes me, knowing that when I find whatever it is, that I will then be happy and content. In reality, I must find that emotional state right here, right now. It is time for me to alter my emotional state exactly where I am at … to find the peace and love inside of me, right where I am, even though I am not yet done with all the emotional density inside.
A Timely Trigger
Wednesday morning, December 12, 2012, I awaken with a beautiful energy, feeling rested – confident that in some way, I can soon abandon the hard bus and begin instead to focus only on trust and surrender. It is time to establish that Higher Energy connection – one that I clearly believe is already simply waiting for me to allow and accept it.
Shortly after 9:00 a.m., I set out on foot, walking to Keith’s home for my first private session in over six months – one that I have been craving for a very long time.
As if on cue, the moment I arrive at his gate, Keith runs out and tells me his workers need something from the hardware shop, and that it is very important for him to get it now.
“Go in and sit down on the porch,” Keith tells me as he runs away. “I will be back in a few minutes.
I do not know whether to laugh or cry.
“Why am I creating an environment where I do not get assistance from a teacher in a body?” I ponder.
The answer is quite clear, but ego is infuriated, having another opportunity to go off on a rampage.
“This is just to show me that I need to find my answers on the inside,” I lovingly remind myself.
For the next twenty-five minutes, I wait patiently as new layers of emotional projection come up – indignant voices of victimization and wrongdoing. It is quite humorous, but very difficult to contain at the same time. The emotions continue to bubble and churn, demanding that I buy into them.
Shortly before 10:00 a.m., when Keith and I finally sit down to talk, my earlier stable emotions have now become tear-streaming, wishy-washy, mush.
A Bent And Worn Spoon
I quickly fill Keith in on all of the amazing insights of the last day and a half, doing so while emotions continue to simmer.
For the first time since my return to San Marcos, I share extended details of my deep nightmare journey of the last six months. I express my fears regarding how toxic and strong this emotion can be, how I am terrified to go anywhere near to it.
And I share my deep insights into how this has clearly been a valuable experiential journey to show me the unbelievable power of the God drama – something I clearly needed to understand from an agonizingly personal perspective.
Keith soon brings back a familiar metaphor – one of a huge and daunting mountain of density that I need to clear – one of me trying to remove it layer by layer with a spoon. In no uncertain terms, Keith helps me to understand that I can move that mountain with the spoon, but that it will surely take me at least five or six more lifetimes to do so, with every one of them being difficult, agonizing, and painful – on the hard bus.
“And your spoon has been used for so long that it is beaten up and bent, with half of it worn down and missing,” Keith shares a vivid visual metaphor, causing us both to giggle.
A New Approach
“Brenda,” Keith again emphasizes, “you have nothing more to learn from trying to move a mountain with that spoon. You needed to do that last year in order to be where you are at now. There is no make-wrong here. That was all perfect. But enough is enough. It is time to do something different.”
“I will die,” I respond, “in fact I think I would rather die than do what I did last year for yet another year in the same way. I absolutely know I have to change … that I have to find my way onto the easy bus … that what I have been doing is no longer working in a way that is acceptable to me.”
“But my problem is that if I follow your past guidance telling me I have to feel emotions to the core before the light can transmute them, then I get lost in there,” I express my fear and frustration. “Once I get to the core of the pain … and it is very real unhealed density … I hurt so much that I no longer want to heal it … I feel betrayed and no longer want the light to help … and in fact I reject the light, feeling cheated if it does take the pain before I am done with it.”
During the last few months, I have known that something needed to change … that what I was doing was no longer working … but the most common idea of “change” was to run away from San Marcos and to abandon working with Keith as my teacher. Suddenly, I realize a new possibility.
“Keith,” I beg for clarity, “would it be wrong for me NOT to feel the density to the core any more, knowing that if I were to do so it would sabotage me right now, and to instead focus solely on raising my vibrations and connecting with Source.”
In asking this question, I feel as if some layer of me is profoundly breaking the rules, short-circuiting the rule that you have to feel density in order to release it.
To my delight, Keith actually likes my suggestion … assuring me that in my situation, feeling this stuff to the core is not currently serving me, and is leading to ever diminishing returns. We both agree that before I try to continue releasing this density, that it is critical for me to first find a way to work with the light.
“Now is the time to no longer identify with these emotions,” I reassure myself, “and now is the time to take personal responsibility for the emotions I feel, no matter what is going on or triggering me. I can release that horrible black rock of heavy density once I get myself to a vibrational state where it is safer to do so.”
Hypnotizing Power
Later Wednesday afternoon, in yet another public chocolate ceremony, I again feel agonizing solar plexus pains, but I do not go down the slippery slope into that pain. Instead, I find myself visualizing the suicidal swamp as a literal stinky marsh, with a wooden platform above it. I am standing on that platform with Bobby, Sharon, Yoda, and a mini version of Gandalf (from Lord of the Rings), with all of us just observing.
I visualize Sharon as working with Yoda, and Bobby as working with the smaller version of Gandalf. We walk around that platform, acknowledging that the swamp below is very real and toxic, but rather than diving in for a swim we practice playing with our magic, connecting to that inner feeling of using that magic in a loving and deeply empowered way. To my delight, that swampy cauldron no longer carries such ominous fear.
Soon, I am imagining myself as Frodo in “The Lord of the Rings, The Two Towers”, walking across the swamp that leads to Mordor. Sam is with me, and Golum is my guide. Step by step, we carefully walk on dry ground, avoiding life-threatening obstacles.
In one scene, where Frodo looks into the swamp, becomes hypnotized, and is sucked in, nearly drowning with the dead bodies, I clearly find deep resonance with what I myself have been doing. I have gone so deep into my own childhood emotional swamp, that the mere act of examining my deepest core pains is hypnotic, sucking me into the deep swamp, powerfully tempting me to surrender my true identity and to just give up in hopeless futility.
Powerful Parallels
“Golum represents little Bobby,” I continue the thought process. “On the inside he has a loving past, but I project anger and hatred onto him because of a lifetime of pain. Bobby (and Sharon) know the way to maneuver that swamp safely, but I first need to reestablish that love and trust between us.”
“In fact,” I ponder with clarity, “I spent my entire last year trying to cross that swamp, repeatedly getting lost in the pain and falling in … repeatedly pulling myself back out and regrouping before going for another putrid swim. But there is another way. With higher guidance, with the light helping me, I can find a way to heal the obstacles without falling in.”
As this meditation continues, I soon find myself inside Mount Doom, in the final scenes of “The Lord of the Rings, The Return of the King.” I am still Frodo, holding the ring in my hand, wanting to destroy it by throwing it into the molten lava far below – wanting to let go of the source of my agonizing emotional burden.
But I cannot.
“I am so hypnotized by the overbearing weight of that ring – of my angry childhood betrayal emotions – that as I now stand ready to let them go, I refuse to give up the ring, to give up my betrayal.”
“In fact,” I ponder with shock, “this God drama is so strong that I would rather keep the pain and agonizing burden than to simply let it go and release it to the light for transmutation.”
I giggle inside at how profoundly relevant these metaphors seem – at how closely they correlate to the metaphors of my present struggle – at how I remain so hypnotized by the ring – the lava rock of childhood pain – that even while literally standing on the brink of releasing the pain, the power of that emotion prevents me from allowing the help that I need.
A Self-Prescription
For the first time in a year, my friend Serg is back on the porch today. During one particularly intense process, Serg suddenly figures out that one reason he struggles so deeply at chocolate ceremonies is that he takes in the emotional reality of others and suddenly believes that reality to be his own. Then he gets lost in the pain and struggle, beating himself up.
I profoundly resonate with this mirrored discovery, realizing that I do the same thing in my own unique way. I still have so much of my own pain inside, that when I unknowingly feel the emotions of others, it triggers my own pain, which becomes jumbled up with the pain of others, and I get overwhelmed by “what is wrong with me.”
Just after 6 p.m, exhaustion and hunger guide me to leave the ceremony early, even though a friend is deep in her own inner work. I check my inner guidance and feel that my presence or absence will not influence her work in any way.
When I quietly step over to give Keith a quick thank you hug, he interrupts the silence to congratulate me on my work today.
“Brenda,” Keith grins at me, “you were able to hold space for others, remaining unattached, and bringing in some light.”
“And I wrote a self-prescription in my notebook today,” I giggle back at Keith. “It reads: Take one drop of self-love or light three times a day, more if needed. Overdose impossible.”
I did something profoundly new today. I felt the emotions deeply inside, constantly tugging at me – but throughout the entire ceremony, I remained on that metaphorical platform with my new magical friends. I remained a level above the dense swamp in a different energetic reality – focusing instead on exploring the magic that will one day allow me to transmute the swamp without having to dive to the depths with a broken and bent spoon.
I’m Back
To my delight, on Thursday morning, I wake up with a ticklish giggly feeling in my belly. As I follow instincts and reach a hand down to lightly stroke the tickling area, I begin to laugh and cry at the same time – a technique that masters use to move energy – feeling the pain, but also in joy that they are moving it.
For a few minutes, the release process is extremely intense, but as I focus on light and love, the intensity suddenly vanishes, leaving me happy and peaceful. I feel great, with no residual emotion, none whatsoever.
Intuitively, I know that I was just given an opportunity to release a tiny layer of density on the easy bus – showing me how fun and simple it can be (even in the intensity).
In fact, I feel so good on this day off from being on Keith’s porch that I actually decide to write for the first time in nearly four months. When I finally publish “The Elephant Rope,” a deep sense of peace tells me that the writer in me is back, that I can do this … that I WANT to do this … and I WILL do this. Only this year I will do it differently. I will write when the flow guides me, and I will no longer beat myself up with guilt if the flow takes me elsewhere. Wow, I like that.
A Head Dunking
Friday, during the next chocolate ceremony, I return to the platform by the swamp, working with the “fabulous four” – Bobby, mini-Gandalf, Sharon, and Yoda. I find myself feeling excited as these magical beings share energy with me.
“Stick your head down in that swamp until it gets uncomfortable,” Keith suddenly guides me when I briefly check in.
I imagine myself leaning over the edge of that platform, sticking my entire head under the putrid, black, tar-like water.
“Now, bring your head back up and have your magical friends clean it off,” Keith continues.
“Wow,” I giggle, “that was real, but not the least bit scary. The yucky density did not even touch me. I am NOT doubting anything … I am believing in my magic … and having a delightful time doing it.”
Projection Perceptions
Later, near the end of the ceremony, I am deeply triggered by a few things that a friend says and does (I will call her Shannon). I remain on my platform, observing the emotions, without taking the bait. But the trigger feelings are intense, and when I mention them to Keith, he guides me into my resistance. The last thing I want to do while feeling triggered by Shannon is to offer her loving energy. Before I allow that, I want to heal myself first. As I later write about this, it becomes obvious that this is another element of my God-drama – that I refuse to connect with Higher energies until I first heal all of the emotional pain inside that continues to be triggered by childhood memories.
“Brenda,” Keith coaches me, “place your hand on Shannon’s back.”
As I place my hand on her back, focusing on being a channel for Higher Energies, I simultaneously concentrate on the understanding from “A Course in Miracles” that “giving is receiving.”
I visualize Shannon through the eyes of purity and innocence, and unconditional love. And Shannon gives me beautiful feedback, telling me how much loving energy she feels flowing through my hand. The best part is that I feel some of that love healing another layer of my own pain, in my own body, bringing me into a beautiful state of peace and presence.
Soon, I realize my projected triggers onto Shannon had really stemmed from my own inner judgment for Sharon, my precious little girl again locked away in that cage.
“I am angry at (and jealous of) Sharon’s magical abilities,” I share with Keith a few minutes later. “When I see others opening up their magic, while I remain stuck, I feel angry at that little brat Sharon who refuses to let me open my own magic. But rather than own this inner energetic anger, it gets projected outward onto others.”
“And I do the same with magical young men,” I add with clarity, “projecting my perceived struggles with shut-down Bobby onto them.”
As the ceremony comes to beautiful completion, I have found a new level of peace and understanding with both internal and externally projected realities.
In magical ways, I have begun to use my perceptions of young women on the porch to show me how I might still be judging and / or sharing love with Sharon … and my perceptions of young men on the porch to show me how I still struggle with my relationship with Bobby. The process is proving to be profoundly eye opening.
The Fabulous Four
To my delight, I spend Saturday, the end of my second week back in San Marcos, writing the second blog entry in three days. When I finally finish publishing “Terrifying Trigger Trauma,” I am no longer ashamed of the wild emotional journey that repeatedly seemed to drown me in its hypnotic pain.
In fact, I can now clearly recognize the beauty in it all. Every struggle, as deeply confusing and agonizing as it has been, has led me to where I am – to a place where I can clearly look back with compassion, understanding the intensity of human emotion and the very real power of the underlying God drama. Had it not been for my own overwhelming struggle, I could never have found this compassion that I will surely need in the future – not only for myself and my inner children – but also for the many others with whom I may be guided to help through their own similar nightmare journeys of hopelessness and futility.
In retrospect, I would not wish what I went through onto anyone, but I am also deeply grateful that I found the courage to do it – to keep going no matter how lost and hopeless I felt – no matter how many times I became hypnotized by the trauma and face-planted myself in the emotional swamp.
And wow, I love my new magical friends – Bobby, Sharon, Yoda, and mini-Gandalf. Just imagining this “Fab Four” of magical metaphorical assistants gives me hope that I can do this … that as I connect with these magical parts of myself, that I will indeed find the strength to no longer be hypnotized by the trance of emotions that I can now clearly see have dominated repeated dysfunctional patterns throughout my life.
It is time to try something different, and I am indeed well on my way toward making that shift.
… to be continued …
Copyright © 2013 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved