Brenda's Bicycles

As the afternoon chocolate ceremony gets underway on Sunday, June 24, 2012, I am delighted by the beautiful speech that Keith delivers at the start of the ceremony. The introduction is one I have longed to hear for a very long time. I almost giggle inside as I realize how the timing synchronizes perfectly with my process. I have struggled for a couple of months as Keith has intentionally allowed various forms of distraction and chaos to dominate frequent ceremonies … and every time this had happened, the resulting growth was profound for me. But just two days ago, I reached beautiful closure in finding peace and non-judgment in the midst of another potentially-chaotic ceremony – a ceremony in which I think I let go of my continued need to see such chaos reflected back to me in the external mirror called reality.

Keith spends nearly half an hour explaining how he works on the porch, talking about fixing energy, asking people to be respectful and to hold space for others, etc…

And he strongly emphasizes that he spends his time focusing on people who want to do real work, that he does not validate people’s ego, or tell them what they want to hear, and that he does work with people who insist on resisting from a place of denial.

“Those with ego might leave the porch feeling cheated, like they were not given their fair assistance, and then go all over town creating drama and talking about it to anyone who will listen,” Keith refers to reports that someone did that again, just last night. “This is not how I work. I follow guidance and work with those who are open to working through their issues.”

I love how Keith is firm yet gentle, clearly explaining why he spends more time with some people, while seeming to pass over others.

Rooted Hooks

During our initial meditation, peace fills my heart, but as I focus on relaxation, I begin to feel mild fear and panic, both in my solar plexus and in my heart. I sit with the fear, simply observing, recognizing that this fear stems from my continued focus on lowering my defenses – defenses that protect me from unwanted energies. Intuitions whisper that the primary defense was a protection from what I perceived as the fixing attacks of my mother and other proponents of my cultural conditioning.

I attempt to breathe energy into my heart, to fill with love, and to function as an empath while assisting my inner child to release this fear and panic … but such attempts fall flat.

As Keith is working with someone else, he shares with her that she has an energy hook rooted in her lower chakras, and that it needs to be pulled out. Keith explains something I have heard him discus before – that energies in the lower chakras can sometimes have very deep roots. Minutes later, Keith also addresses the topic of energy vampires … of how there are some people that do thrive by preying on the energy of others.

“I have been giving my power and energy away to my mother and others throughout my life,” I ponder. “I wonder if I still have some type of hook in my lower chakras that allows such people to take my energy … and that perhaps I need to remove that hook.”

Exploring The Wall

“Sit with that thought,” Keith guides me when I ask for feedback on the issue. “Get to know it … go deeper.”

After a while, intuitions are quite clear that my mother did not suck my energy. It was the other way around. I freely gave it to her. I feel a very strong power cord linked between us … one that remains plugged in … but my mother is not draining me. I am draining myself, continuing to surrender my power in an effort to keep the peace.

As Keith works with an empath across the porch, I begin to assist. As I do so, the pains in my solar plexus greatly increase. In response, I focus on bringing in more light, further energizing my heart – and my heart does indeed feel very powerful right now. I continue functioning as an empath for quite a while. My sensitivities remain muddled and low, but I do experience a great deal of prickling sensation in my hands and even more pains in my solar plexus.

Finally, as I continue to sit with these self-observations, I begin to realize that the pains in my solar plexus are related to my wall – to that protective wall that protects me from the fixing energies of my mother.

“This wall is also an attempt at protecting my power center,” I ponder with intuition. “My power was being constantly drained and I was trying to keep myself safe, to conserve my power, to prevent it from draining away to others.”

Strong Shields

At one point, when I ask Keith for suggestions on how to go deeper, he does not provide a direct answer.

“Brenda,” Keith expresses his guidance, “I am getting that you will find what you need on the inside. Trust that and go further into it.”

Suddenly, I am intuitively inundated with Star Trek metaphors – images and stories from old Star Trek movies and television episodes. Such images are perfect for me, since I have always loved Star Trek – not to the point of obsession, but deeply enjoying every spinoff series and movie. I really was a left-brained geek for much of my life.

I apologize in advance to anyone for whom these metaphors make no sense. I will try to explain the basics as I go along.

“That wall in my solar plexus is my shields,” I suddenly ponder. “I have lived my whole life on emergency red-alert, with nearly all power redirected to my shields to keep me safe from attack.”

“In fact,” I continue, “I am the “Starship Enterprise” and, in an effort to conserve all possible power, I am running with only minimal life support so that I have enough power to keep the shields up. I have been in this state ever since childhood … barely surviving while keeping those shields strong.”

A Shielding Paradox

“All of the loving power I need is surrounding me,” I ponder, “but my shields keep me from accessing that divine power.”

Soon, as an experiment, I imagine myself lowering the shields, hoping to allow in the loving power that will refuel my fuel cells … but suddenly a huge internal resistance fights me.

Following intuitions, I get Scotty on the intercom (the ship’s engineer), explaining to him what my reasoning is for wanting to drop the shields. He begins to comply, but then vehemently fights me.

“Captain,” Scotty protests, “that will make us too vulnerable to attack. We cannot do that, not even for an instant.”

Again, I ponder a strong sense of knowing that these shields are not only protecting us (the ship and crew) from outside energies, but they are also preventing us from accessing the love that we need to replenish and awaken who we are.

Protective Survival

The metaphor continues to unfold in delightful ways. Eventually, it comes to this:

As a child, I was a starship captain, and we were under attack by the world of cultural conditioning and fixing. The attack was so strong and persistent, that survival was impossible. All of our power was drained whenever we fought to defend ourselves. We were ahead of our time … in a universe that was not ready for our magic … and the constant attacks on our struggling ship were just too strong and too draining.

In an act of desperation and survival, we guided the ship into an asteroid belt, found a deep cave in one of the asteroids, parked the ship in that cave, raised our shields, and reduced all other power consumption to minimal life support so that we could survive as long as possible. We knew that one day in the future it would be time to reemerge from that cave into a universe that was then ready for our magic. Until then, we had to hide out, protecting ourselves from attack.

Meanwhile, I had assigned Scotty (the ship’s engineer) to be down in the power core of the ship, diligently watching over and managing the ship’s power resources, making sure that we kept the shields at full strength while not wasting power in other activities. It was crucial to protect ourselves from potential attacks – attacks that were all around us.

A Star-Trek God Drama

As my solar plexus begins to hurt even more, I briefly interrupt Keith, explain my metaphors, and ask for guidance. He again tells me that his guidance is that I need to find the help I need on the inside. I quickly return to my meditation, sitting with this pulsing pain in my solar plexus.

“This pain is Scotty in the power room,” Intuitions suddenly guide me. “He has been locked away, stressing over his job, trying to keep the shields operational for five decades – and he is tired and pissed.”

“And I forgot that I was the ship’s captain,” I suddenly realize. “I am the one that had asked Scotty to sacrifice his life to protect the ship, and he has literally saved our lives during repeated external attacks. He is angry, feeling forgotten and ignored as he fulfills a thankless job, getting no reward or words of gratitude from his captain.”

“This is the God drama,” I ponder with a giggle. “It is an inner part of me – an angry part – an energy that has sacrificed himself in my name. He feels betrayed by me, insisting on an apology, and is tired of playing the game with no reward or appreciation.”

An Inside Job

This metaphor is fun, making it quite clear that the God drama is totally an inside job. It is not some external God who has wronged me … it is I, as the ship’s captain, acting as God, who has ordered my own loyal and dedicated inner energies to protect me, and I have betrayed them, ignored them, and abandoned them.

“I CAN get that fleeting apology from God,” I giggle silently. “But it is upside down and backwards. I am the God that can and needs to provide that apology to my loyal inner energies. It will not come from outside sources. It can only come when I embrace my divine nature and take responsibility that I, as ship’s captain, have victimized my inner energies, and then projected that victimization outward into the mirror called reality. ”

In quiet meditation, I go through a deep outpouring of love and gratitude, extending a heartfelt apology to Scotty (and others) for leaving him down there all alone for five decades, doing a thankless job with no reward. I beg his forgiveness. I have blamed him for keeping these shields up, for preventing us from accessing the divine love that we need. But now, I take full responsibility that it was I who had given him the order to keep the shields at full strength – that he was only serving me with devotion and loyalty.

A Loving Partnership

Suddenly, the meditation takes on a completely new twist.

“Scotty, in this metaphor, is MY masculine power,” I ponder with intuitive shock. “He is my masculine self … and I, Captain Brenda, am the feminine self that Scotty has struggled to protect throughout our lifetime together.”

“In my teens, Scotty stuck his neck out to keep me safe and shielded,” I continue the metaphor. “But I forgot about him, and blamed him for all my problems. I later left him to die while pursuing my life as Brenda. All the while, he continued to faithfully protect me by keeping the inner power safe and intact, and keeping the shields strong.”

“What a beautiful metaphor for the inner masculine and inner feminine battle that has been going on inside of me,” I ponder.

Soon, I ask Scotty to take his role as my co-captain. I quickly imagine that there are two captain’s chairs on the bridge of the Enterprise, with Scotty and I sitting side by side, running the ship as partners. As I do so, I note that the pain in my solar plexus has subsided, and I literally do feel the love between us.

I feel deep gratitude … my feminine side thanking the masculine side for keeping her safe all these years … and my masculine side thanking the feminine for her love, releasing much of the anger and abandonment of the underlying God drama. For the first time ever, I begin to feel a partnership between my masculine and feminine sides. Intuitions tell me that I am just beginning to heal this rift, but I also know that what I am doing in this fun subconscious metaphor is quite magical and profound.

Subconscious Reality

“I literally have been living in a nightmare Star-Trek holodeck,” I ponder the overall metaphor. “I have been hiding from cultural attacks, on red-alert status for so long that it seems normal. I have been protecting myself for so many years that I have actually forgotten what freedom, joy, peace, and happiness even feel like.”

The metaphors are profound, powerful, vivid, and accurately apply to my life in nearly every aspect. I feel the emotional power, and while it is only a made-up story, I absolutely know that it is real in the “communicating with the subconscious” department.

Deep intuitions reassure me that I did real and massive healing work today … but suddenly, my head wants to doubt, calling it all silly make-believe.

“Brenda,” Keith responds when I ask about these head doubts, “If you have to ask that question, you need to go back and watch the “What the Bleep” movies again.”

As I ponder those movies, movies that clearly discuss how our subconscious mind literally rules our reality, I find renewed peace and confidence. I absolutely know that I have been working today with real subconscious energies … with masculine “power parts” of me trying to protect the feminine … and with feminine energies that were still angrily rejecting and blaming the masculine … and that the ultimate forgiveness and healing are very real.

Synchronous Reflections

I almost giggle as I ponder several events from the ceremony today.

I usually abhor it when someone lies down on the ground and rudely sticks their dirty bare feet almost in my face. Today, one beautiful young woman had done just that – a beautiful feminine energy literally forcing her “grounded-to-Mother-Earth” feet right next to my face. I had simply ignored the space intrusion and found great peace.

A while later, a new young man had reclined in the center of the porch, putting his feet together, bringing them up to his buttocks, and then letting his knees fling to either side … and as he did this, I felt him metaphorically throwing his masculine energy at me, with his crotch aimed right at me. At first, I almost asked him to move – to please shift positions – but then I realized that his behavior was my creation, showing me my hatred and inner repulsion for what I perceive as dysfunctional, space-marking masculine power.

Both visual, external metaphors, occurred while immersed in my Star Trek adventure, while exploring issues of rejected and abandoned masculine power, and feminine power that hated the masculine. I love how such events that appear to happen outside, are really perfectly timed, synchronous reflections of what I need to face on the inside.

A Needed Social Respite

“Con-grat-YOU-lations,” Keith giggles at me as the ceremony concludes. “You did profound work today with very little pain and lots of higher energy assistance.”

I love Keith’s feedback, and I love the beautiful and profound metaphors that intuitively surfaced and guided my process today in amazing ways.

And I love even more when Keith, Angela, and I decide to get together for a Sunday evening dinner at a local restaurant. We delight in fun conversation for nearly two hours. I so need the social time. After weeks of intense processing, much of it while feeling like a social loser, such a fun evening of friendly talking is exactly what I need to top off an amazing day of healing.

Reality Creation

Early Monday morning, after a normal routine of meditation, internet, and breakfast, I am just beginning to sit down to write when Sufi steps into the living room. Feeling guided to engage her in conversation, I set my writing aside … and we talk, and talk, and talk.

The conversation is beautiful, but at times gets quite intense and confusing. First, we talk extensively about how we each create our own reality, but when I attempt to share how I like to simplify and view reality as my own “personal holodeck,” I can tell I have pushed one of her buttons. Even though, in concept, we agree on every topic, she sees my metaphor as originating from strong ego – as being deeply negative. I try to explain that it is just my way of simplifying an extremely complex and indescribable topic.

“Each one of us creates our own reality, and when interacting in groups, we somehow create a very complex joint reality where we play scripts for each other,” I attempt to acknowledge that there is a bigger picture. “There are so many dimensions involved in this joint creation, with each interaction serving both parties beautifully.”

“But it is also true that I can simplify that complexity by merely focusing on my little piece of the reality … on my own personal holodeck.” I try to explain. “I don’t need to figure out or concern myself with how the entire Universe works. Personal experience strongly validates that I can simply focus on my own individual interaction with that reality.”

Sufi adamantly rejects my description, and I feel deeply confused, realizing that even though we agree in principle, at many levels, that I am trying to explain my version of truth to someone who cannot see it my way. I quickly back off, apologize for attempting to push my version of truth onto her, and change subjects.

Deaf Ears

To my shock, Sufi soon shares how she sees a great deal of ego in my attempts to discuss my journey on Keith’s porch over the last few months. She perceives that when I talk about my healing journey, and when I discuss how my buttons were pushed etc…, that I am expressing deep judgment onto Paul and others.

“I readily admit that I have been profoundly triggered in ways that have repeatedly served me,” I attempt to respond. “But when I talk about experiences that have triggered me on the porch, and how I have subsequently healed myself, I am not judging anyone. I am simply describing my healing journey, as I perceive it. I am actually quite grateful for how things have unfolded … even though they have been extremely painful. In every instance, I took my projections inside, took personal responsibility for my triggers, and healed the issue inside myself.”

“Especially, with Paul,” I share my truth, “I always ate humble pie and took my projections inside. There is no judgment to be found here … no ego in my perceptions … it is just the opposite … I am healing ego … working on undoing it and changing the film in my inner-reality projector.”

But the more I try to defend the purity of my heart, to simply explain that I am trying to share the healing journey from a space of integrity, I perceive that my words seem to fall on deaf, judgmental ears.

Childhood Understanding

Suddenly, after a long and confusing conversation with my dear friend – a conversation that traces my journey on Keith’s porch into childhood pain – I suddenly realize what is happening.

“I am projecting my childhood inability to talk to my mother about my perceptions and my reasons for crying,” Intuitions begin to giggle inside. “I am seeing Sufi as my mother, and recreating exactly what happened to me as a child. No matter how hard I tried to explain to my mother my reasons for crying, I was seen as being judgmental, in my ego, and was made-wrong. My perceptions were rejected as slamming others. My genuine heart was misunderstood and judged.”

“Or as Keith might say,” I continue pondering, “I was emotionally brutalized for being in my integrity and trying to simply share genuine perceptions.”

“And the more I tried to explain and defend myself, the deeper I dug my own hole,” I ponder in pain.

As I take this whole conversation into a childhood reality, I quickly become deeply emotional as muffled sobs consume me. This childhood emotion has suddenly become very real and very deep as it begins to flow up and out of me.

Sufi and I sit in complete silence for several minutes. Finally, I give her a hug, thank her, tell her that this whole conversation has led me to a beautiful understanding, but that I need to go into this emotion alone.

Intense Release

Seconds later, I am in my bedroom, allowing wave after wave of sobbing, dry-heaving tears to flow through me. The emotional agony that accompanies the release is gut-wrenching – total sadness at not having been able to safely express myself, to be heard, to be understood, or to be validated by my own mother. And then, there is intense sadness at remembering that I totally gave up on even trying to express my emotions. Doing so always got me into trouble.

In fact, as I dig into my teenage memories, I rarely remember ever crying except when watching a sad movie, or when someone died. In other situations, I saw crying as weak and unmanly – as something that would expose my hidden feminine nature.

After these insights flow, I soon bring in light and begin to experience powerful energy in my head light that transmutes that sadness.

Self-Loathing Voices

Then, to my shock, a few minutes later, a hidden reservoir of self-hatred begins to scream for expression, boiling up through my awareness.

“You are such a loser for creating this awkward conversation with Sufi,” these loathing inner voices begin to rant. “You just rambled on and on, digging your hole deeper and deeper like you have done your whole life. You are just being a stupid freak and making things worse. Now, Sufi hates you too, blah, blah, blah…”

I do my best to ignore these ranting, angry, self-hating voices while continuing to focus on bringing in more light and love.

“Bobby and Sharon,” I ask my inner children, “will you roll these voices up in a carpet and haul them off to the angelic dumpster for me?”

As I imagine the unfolding scene, I literally feel those inner voices kicking and screaming, demanding that I listen, refusing to go away.

The feelings of self-judgment and self-hatred continue to mumble in my head. Finally, after twenty minutes of trying to remain in the light … of trying to ignore and discard these voices … I make a new choice.

“If these voices are demanding my attention,” I ponder an upside down approach, “perhaps I need to surrender to them, to dive deeper into them, to allow them to be my teachers.”

Real Emotion

As I surrender to the voices, I again sink into a deep round of emotional release, letting the emotion flow rather than trying to push it down. After perhaps ten minutes, I reach what feels like a bottom, and I bring in more light. Very soon, I start to feel much better – actually good enough to return to my computer.

As I finish up a few notes, Sufi comes out and we talk for an hour or so. To my surprise, as I attempt to describe my journey into childhood emotion, another layer of that intense childhood pain rages through me.

“I was not free to talk about my feelings,” Intuitions flow as I share with Sufi. “Tears were wrong, and that was that. Crying was never justified … having deep feelings was never justified … and my reasons for having those feelings were invalidated and made wrong.”

For yet another hour, I meditate silently, allowing intense emotions to flow through me. What is amazing, is that now, rather than needing to cry my way through this layer of emotions, I feel them as a very strong flow of agitated, vibrating energy.

It is agonizing, but beautiful at the same time. I feel the agitated vibrations in my heart – vibrations that are moving through me and out of me on their way to transmutation. I absolutely know these are real suppressed emotions from teenage years. In fact, the emotion is so real that I find it extremely difficult not to grab onto it or make it real in the now.

This is very real dense emotion from the past … real emotion that has been trapped inside me and that is now flowing out of me without being reenergized. But the whole process requires intense focus on my part.

A River Of Sewage

I am deeply grateful for how Sufi gently and lovingly triggered me today – and for how she later supported my process in moving the emotions that were unexpectedly unearthed as a result.

Even late in the afternoon, I still feel this intense agitated river of emotion continuing to flow through me – one that could be aptly described as a moving river of sewage. I do feel a good portion of the emotion, but I somehow manage not to attach to it.

Shortly before 6:00 p.m., I stroll out to Keith’s home. I feel honored by the opportunity to spend yet another evening participating in a beautiful Skype session with a dear friend back in Utah.

“I have had one of those wildly emotional days, and it is still flowing through me,” I share with my friend before we actually begin the session.

During the session, this river of emotional sewage continues to flow through me. I feel it intensely, both as tip-of-the-iceberg emotions and as very agitated energy flowing through my heart. It is all I can do to maintain my sanity while I attempt to hold space for my friend. I never lose sight of what I know is happening, but the experience is quite overwhelming and the emotional river is intense.

Suicidal Triggers

This river of agitated emotion flows in waves throughout the Skype session. I take delight that my friend has an amazing meditation, one that brings giggles of joy at various times.

But I have to admit, that this also triggers my God drama … my “F@ck you God” feelings at watching yet another beautiful person have such an amazing experience while I continue to struggle on the hard bus.

Soon, the emotions are too strong, and I burst into muffled sobs. We are at the end of the session, and I try to stifle sobs as we say our goodbyes. I do not want to rain on my dear friend’s magical parade.

“Brenda has tapped into a new level of stuff that is flowing through her, and she is deep into that right now,” Keith explains to my friend after I make an attempt to speak through my sobs.

A few minutes later, I do manage to pull myself together enough to say my own goodbyes.

“I’m going to walk Brenda home, now, or maybe push her off a cliff or something,” Keith jokes to my friend.

I am quite surprised by Keith’s bizarre joking, but take no offense. I actually find it funny and perfectly appropriate for the moment – amazingly appropriate.

“I’ll help you push me off the cliff,” I respond through sobs that again burst forth.

Suddenly, deep suicidal feelings rage through that river of sewage. These are intense teenage emotions. I had no idea such feelings could still remain inside me.

Upbeat Validation

“How are you doing Brenda?” Keith soon asks as we prepare to walk back to town.

I quickly share major details of my day, and explain what I believe to be happening with me … and with this bizarre river of emotional sewage that continues to energetically rage onward.

“Brenda,” Keith validates my experience. “As you have been talking I have repeatedly checked with my guidance to find something to tell you about how you might be missing this or that, looking for some way to help, but my guidance is very clear, over and over telling me that you are perfect and ‘right-on’ with your assessment of what is happening.”

“You are flowing teenage emotions,” Keith continues, “having to feel some of it, not attaching or identifying with it, but having to feel it intensely. It is a powerful educational lesson that you are in … one that has been building up for months.”

“You couldn’t have done this, three or four months ago,” Keith adds with an upbeat tone as he walks me home.

“I could not have done it even a month ago,” I respond with a painful giggle, still feeling the energy flow through me.

As Keith drops me off at the bottom of my steep apartment steps, he again congratulates me, reassuring me that I am at a powerful place in my process.

Another Layer

When Sufi walks in a while later, she glances around the living room with an amazed look on her eyes.

“Whatever you are doing,” Sufi tells me with giggles, “you are doing it beautifully. I see angel lights all over the room.”

I can only imagine what Sufi sees. She is deeply sensitive to energies, and has been since her earliest memories. All I know is that I feel very positive and upbeat, filled with optimism – and her feedback makes me giggle, even though the river of emotion continues to lightly flow – and will keep flowing for much of the night.

As I later rest on my pillow, I ponder back to what Keith had told me on the way home when I had asked about my earlier conversations with Sufi. I love how Keith agreed, telling me that I was trying to speak a version of truth in a way that my friend was not able to hear. And he also congratulated me on how I used that experience to take me deep into surrendering to childhood emotion – a process that had allowed me to take the lid of this massive river of emotional sewage – allowing me to have another layer of powerful opening and learning.

Radiating Self-Love

Tuesday morning, June 26, 2012, I have every intention to write, but inner energies resist. Soon, I begin to watch a continuous flow of Glee episodes. By midday, the television episodes have taken me into another intense layer of healing related to transgender issues and not fitting in at school. I love how these episodes repeatedly and gently take me into teenage social healing.

Before bed, I meditate for an hour, and then imagine myself spending time in the mountains as I used to do – singing inspiring spiritual songs, and reviewing my personal mission statement with passion. This is something I have not done in a very long time. I am alive with energy … and radiating with self-love.

Magical Star Trek Metaphors

I giggle when I realize how beautifully a few strong pains in my solar plexus transformed into a powerful and deeply meaningful subconscious journey. Who would have thought that Star Trek metaphors could take me into a journey of such profound clarity?

It is now clear that, as a very young child, I put a masculine-energy part of myself – the maintainer of my power – in charge of keeping my shields at full strength to protect myself from the onslaught of societal, cultural, and religious programming – and then forgot about it. That loyal part of me never gave up, continuing to protect me through the painful years, and still doing the same as I now try to wake up and heal. Rather than judging this part of me, I owe him a huge debt of gratitude. He is the most loving and loyal part of my masculine energy, and I honor him deeply.

And it is also quite obvious that the God drama – one that I have been projecting outward in every which way – is also an inside job. I am that dastardly “God” that has betrayed and victimized my own inner energies, abandoning them, not guiding them, ignoring them, and forgetting about them. And it is I who can set it all right, apologizing to those betrayed aspects of self, learning to love them by developing more self-love, self-acceptance, and deep compassion.

And wow, did I ever have an intense journey with that river of emotional sewage that flowed through me yesterday. Such learning could never have been gained from a book. It is something that one has to experience for themselves.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

About a year and a half ago, Keith gave me an Aloe Vera plant from his garden. Ever since, that plant has found a home in a large pot, sitting on a table out on my patio. After returning from a three-month trip last summer, I was saddened to find my little green friend lying on the ground. The pot was broken, soil was scattered, and many of the lower leaves where somewhat brown and beginning to shrivel at the ends. Last October, in honor of my medicinal plant, I purchased a new pot, replanted it, and placed it back on the table. Ever since, those bottom Aloe leaves have remained somewhat brown, shrivled, and ugly.

As I fast-forward to the present, it is late Friday morning, June 22, 2012, when Sufi mentions that the lower leaves of my Aloe plant are dying from a lack of water.

“I have lots of ionized water to water it with … and we could add flower extracts, blah, blah, blah,” Sufi eagerly volunteers. “The Aloe plant is a sentient living being and this would really help it to heal.”

I pause in shock for a minute to gather my bearings. Ever since my dear roommate has moved in, I have purchased the vast majority of our drinking water and other extra supplies, and now she wants to water a plant with that expensive drinking water. I cannot believe what I am hearing.

Loving Assertiveness

I remain calm and loving, but the ensuing conversation catches me off guard. I gently respond to Sufi that if she wants to go purchase more drinking water on her own, and then ionize it, that she is free to water the plant however she wants.

“But please,” I ask her, “do not use the drinking water that I have purchased. The tap water is fine for the Aloe. I don’t want to use my expensive water when it is not necessary.”

“But it is a sentient being and needs healthy water,” Sufi protests.

For nearly an hour Sufi continues her protest as I attempt to explain that the tap water here is natural, having no chemicals, coming from rain and springs … that the only reason we do not drink it is because it also contains amoebas and giardia – little parasites that will not affect the plant in any way. The heated discussion never turns into an argument, but I feel horrible for being so firm in speaking the truth-as-I-perceive-it in my heart. I recognize this as an exercise in being lovingly assertive – in setting loving-but-firm boundaries – but I feel awful and even cruel for telling Sufi “No” … for unflinchingly standing my ground.

“I honor your beliefs,” I express, “but I do not believe the way you do. Please honor my beliefs, and when you get your own aloe plant, you can care for it however you wish.”

A Difficult Discussion

The whole issue takes me deep into inner frustration regarding how so many people in the new age spiritual movements have such strong beliefs about this or that … and they are so convinced as to the absolute truth of their beliefs that they cannot rest while someone else follows a different heartbeat. I have repeatedly been confronted by situations where I have had to stand firm in the midst of an “almost attack” by someone who wants to preach a certain diet, exercise, meditation, yoga, medical views, or nutrition issues, onto me. I honor their views as true for them, but my heart repeatedly reminds me that I have a different path to follow – a path to work with things at an energetic level rather than on a physical body level.

I totally believe that our actual beliefs about a certain practice have far more influence and power over our life, than does the practice itself.

By the time the conversation ends, I have been forced to be bluntly honest about various aspects of expense sharing in which I am carrying a major burden, subsidizing my roommate’s presence in a way that is costing me money. I feel guilty for even mentioning these facts, but the conversation forces such sharing – even though I have already found peace in so many ways that the benefits of my friend’s presence far outweigh the added expense for water and other supplies that she consumes.

The gentle loving triggers that come from sharing space have brought deep growth in many ways.

At the end of our difficult talk, I get up and hug Sufi, expressing my guilt for having so bluntly-but-lovingly shared my feelings – repeatedly reassuring her that I love her, that I am grateful for her presence in my home, and that I am not mad at her in any way. The discussion has been long and bizarrely intense … yet we have reached a loving and peaceful conclusion.

“Go ahead and use the purified water for the aloe plant if you feel a strong need to do so,” I tell Sufi, coming from a place of genuine love and peace in my heart.

Perfectly Peaceful

I still feel a slight emotional charge as I walk out to Keith’s porch for a Friday afternoon chocolate ceremony. I focus on Keith’s former words about how Sufi’s presence is lovingly triggering me into new growth … and that if I were to attempt to avoid such triggering, that the whispers would likely return as shouts in some other way. I also review the profound growth that came from taking personal responsibility for the buried metaphors that resulted from a silly little tube of toothpaste.

“I wonder what magical wonder this unexpected morning trigger will bring to my life,” I ponder, as the ceremony gets underway.

Later, I realize that by trying to defend my own opinions against a perceived attack, I have been partially giving away my power – that in trying to be right, even in the tiniest way, I am strengthening conflict. It is a lesson of learning how to allow others to have their own truth, while not giving away my own power in any way.

As the normal starting time comes and goes, only one other person has arrived on the porch. I giggle inside as I realize that I am perfectly peaceful with the fact that we do not actually start until 1:00 p.m. – perfectly peaceful with the fact that most people show up quite late – perfectly peaceful with everything being exactly as it is, with no judgment coming from my old cultural conditioning.

Another Opportunity

Again, for the first hour of the ceremony, the porch is engulfed in social talking. Even though we do have a couple of new people today, Keith does not do any introductions, not talking about his background, about chocolate, or about anything else related to what we do on the porch.

“This is Keith’s porch,” I ponder with an unattached giggle. “If his guidance tells him that this is what is necessary for today, then I can support that fact without judgment.”

I delight with how perfectly peaceful I feel today. I see the perfection in breaking from routine, in following the flow of the energies, and I clearly see that today is another opportunity to find loving peace. In fact, I clearly recognize this as a beautiful stage-play for me – another opportunity to make a different choice. The beginning today is nearly identical to that crazy ceremony on Wednesday, but today, I see it with love rather than judgment.

New-Age Sticks

During the “Glow Meditation,” I focus on my own process – a process of continuing the meditation from my private session early yesterday evening. As I review how I gave that big “God-stick” back to my mother and to my ancestors and church leaders, I suddenly realize that I have many more sticks to give back. Most of those sticks have to do with new-age dogmatic beliefs that are pushed around in what I perceive as a new-age circus – beliefs preached as being facts – beliefs that are actually “guilt-ed” onto those who do not agree and comply.

Many of these are beliefs that focus on physical-reality aspects of “right and wrong” or “good and evil,” – beliefs preaching more shoulds, musts, need-tos, and judgments. These are beliefs imposed by well-intentioned people as being requirements to be a “good spiritual citizen.” As spiritual programming from the consensus new-age movement, many of these beliefs have absolutely nothing to do with true spirituality, but are simply new-age versions of ancient dogma.

I begin to give these sticks back, one at a time.

In an effort not to offend anyone, I will not list the sticks in my writing, suffice it to say, that everything we think we know is potentially one of these sticks.

Resistance Sticks

Soon, as I realize that there are far too many sticks to return individually, I retire to my metaphorical inner conference room and invite all of these new-age energies to join me. I ask each belief to place a stick on the table. Then I ask Bobby and Sharon (my inner children) to gather the sticks into a huge bundle, and to carry them off to our Higher Self.

Without needing to know details, I meditatively ask the originators of each of these sticks to come to my Higher Self and retrieve their appropriate sticks. When this process is complete, I imagine the light as transmuting whatever sticks remain.

Next, I return to the table in my conference room and imagine all of my inner resistance energies as joining me there.

“I would like each of you energies to expose your own sticks, and to place them on the table,” I direct this inner visualization.

Soon I have a table filled with things such a protection, judgment, fear, and projection. I do not try to itemize each stick, not using rational mind to analyze every detail. Instead, I simply ask Bobby and Sharon to carry all of these new sticks off to our Higher Self.

A Porch Observer

Soon, I feel guided to become an observer of the porch. I watch as Keith works with a young man who is stuck and in deep denial. As Keith moves on, one of my friends moves in to work with this young man. I observe that my friend’s behavior seems to be totally “fixing” – enabling the young man to avoid going deeper into his journey – instead allowing him to focus at the surface level of energy flow rather than going to the true subconscious source of his blockage. I clearly recognize that this process is giving this young man a glimpse of what lies on the other side of his denial, but that it is not solving anything in the longer term. I observe with no judgment – simply perceiving what is.

A few minutes later, I watch as Keith works with a beautiful young woman – an unknowing empath herself. But as soon as Keith moves on, yet another friend moves in and begins to do energy work on her. Again, I observe that what I am witnessing is a form of “energy-work” fixing, but that it IS serving a purpose for someone who is too stuck to dive deeper into the true cause of her blockage.

Motherly Insights

Suddenly, I realize that both of these ongoing situations are modeling my mother. Both of these friends are magical healers … and both of them have their own blind spots as to what they may or may not be doing to assist others (as do I) … but both are using their gifts to do the absolute best that they know how.

“Their motivation is pure,” I contemplate. “Neither fully understands what Keith does and how he works … neither has a deep grasp on the concepts of subconscious inner work, on creating their own reality, etc. … but they are both engaged in their own unique and beautiful journey, both perfect where they are.”

“This is how my mother was,” I ponder with pure insight. “Yes, she fixed the hell out of me, but she did it from the only truth that she knew and understood. And she did it with the purest of motivations that she could access – fervently doing so for my healing and benefit as she saw it.”

“And yes, her fixing did hurt me deeply,” I continue to ponder, “but it was all by my own design.”

Motherly Projections

As Keith progressively works around the porch, I continue to focus on this unfolding understanding.

“My resentment at many ‘unhealed healers’ is based on my dear mother’s fixing,” I deepen my insights. “Her fixing came from a place of not understanding my version of the heart-based truth that resonated within me. As a result, I perceived her behavior as an attack on me, as invalidating and disempowering me, and as deeply damaging me.”

“When I see other healers coming from a place of surface-level fixing – from a place that does not resonate with my own heart-based version of the truth,” I ponder with delight. “This is why I project that same “my-mother-is-attacking-me-pain” onto those healers.”

“I am seeing all of these healers as a projected version of my mother,” I ponder. “All of my painful projections onto ‘unhealed healers’ in the ‘new age circus’ are projections of my own childhood pain onto someone that I perceive as potentially harming and/or damaging others.”

I giggle inside as I focus on seeing everything around me through the eyes of “loving what is” … of allowing, surrendering, and being at complete peace with everything.

Two Peas In A Pod

Just as Keith nears completion of his first round of the porch, as he begins to turn to me, Paul interrupts and asks for help.

As Keith asks Paul to close his eyes and to go inside, I can only giggle when Paul protests, insisting that he needs Keith’s help, that he cannot do this by himself. I giggle because this is my own struggle as of late – my God-drama belief that Keith is not going to help me.

“I’m trying to help you, but cannot do it if you resist and fight me,” Keith responds firmly. “Now go inside and …”

Paul complies and Keith skillfully guides him to the edge of his inner blockage – to a place where there is too much fear to go deeper.

“You and Brenda are like two peas in a pod,” Keith suddenly surprises me. “You both set up intense blockages that would create great fear and stuckness so that the only way to move beyond the block is to develop compassion, self-love, and self acceptance – and to be completely humiliated.”

It shocks me to be compared to my projection-buddy Paul, but I clearly recognize the truth in Keith’s words – at least as they apply to me.

Powerful Compassion

I will not discuss Paul’s process here, other than to say that Keith gets very blunt and honest – doing so lovingly-but-firmly, more so than I have ever seen Keith do with Paul.

As the process continues, I begin to feel deep empathy for Paul’s stuckness, especially when I can see so many parallels between our respective projections and God dramas.

“That is something that Brenda is an expert in,” Keith again surprises me as he tries to help Paul understand his state of stuckness.

“It took me three years of humiliation before I was able to move out of my stuckness,” Keith adds as he continues his profound guidance. “But I am not here to feed your ego … I am here to speak the hard truth.”

I know Keith is desperately attempting to help my projection buddy – partly being so tough about it because in just over a week, Keith will be ending ceremonies and preparing to travel. I feel deep love for Paul, and I see that Keith is acting from the same energy of unconditional caring.

Soon, I imagine my own inner children running over to hug and play with Paul’s inner child. I send him deep space-holding love … and I am completely unattached as to whether he receives that love, feeling a powerful compassion for where he is at in his process.

This entire process fills me with deep healing as I ponder back to the many times Paul has pushed my core-issue buttons in agonizing ways – to the times he has screamed and yelled at me in the middle of my vulnerability. Today, I see him as a wounded little inner child that needs my love. I cannot give it to him in person, but I can share it energetically. He could not receive it from me any other way.

Say What?

Finally, in the midst of Paul’s silent journey, Keith glances at me several times, makes eye contact, and encourages me to begin sharing my process. I hesitate because I do not want to be guilty of interrupting the silence of Paul’s journey.

The moment I begin to talk, Paul stands up in frustration, packs up his belongings and leaves. I perceive that Paul is deeply sulking, feeling profoundly rejected in his own version of the God drama. I relate so powerfully, having been tempted to do the same thing so many times in the past when Keith’s words were hard for me to accept.

“How are you doing, Brenda?” Keith asks with a glowing thumbs-up gesture.

“I am doing really well,” I start to respond with a giggle. “When I walked into that …”

“Stop right there!” Keith jokes with me in a serious way. “Wow! Did I hear what I thought I heard? Did you say that you are doing really well?”

Keith quickly admits that he is simply teasing me, because so often, as I begin sharing my process, I am deeply mired in struggle.

I spend nearly ten minutes explaining my amazing journey of insights, being quite careful not to mention names of the people who had triggered my insights about unhealed healers.

Humble Pride

“I have a wall erected to keep out my mother’s fixing and conditional love, and that wall keeps out all love,” I share with Keith. “I am now focusing on relaxing that wall. As I do so I am feeling all kinds of energy expansion in my high-heart / upper-chest regions.”

Keith and I discuss this beautiful opening for a few minutes before he again moves on to work with others. Suddenly, the ceremony quickly disintegrates as most people begin to leave. I sit and enjoy my beautiful energy until the very end. I love the unfolding sensations of relaxation in my heart chakra. And even my arms seem to be relaxing slightly, making me wonder if my clenching is part of that protective wall trying to keep my mother’s fixing at bay.

As I prepare to leave, I share final insights with Keith and give him a quick thank-you hug. Keith responds with beautiful compliments on my energy today, sharing how pleased he is with my work, on my insights, how I had held space, and how powerfully I had assisted as an empath with one particular woman. I bask in the glowing comments, wishing I could really sense how I actually helped that one empath woman, because I had been assisting from a space of blind intuition.

As I walk home, powerful peaceful energy resonates from my heart. In a very humble way, I am quite proud of myself.

Internet Woes

As I arrive at home, I note that my internet is not functioning, and all symptoms point to the fact that the wireless signal IS reaching my home, but that the internet cable has been unplugged down at the internet café itself – at the place where I get my internet access. Unplugging the cable is something that the workers frequently do when there are internet problems. Usually, they quickly plug the cable back in when the problems are resolved, but sometimes I must walk fifty yards down the street to kindly request that they reconnect me.

When I step into the small internet café, the young man behind the counter is someone I have never before seen – someone who appears just to be filling in at the last minute. I am concerned, because if this young man cannot solve my problem, I know I will have no internet until sometime later tomorrow morning.

“The wireless is unplugged, can you please plug it back in?” I ask kindly and confidently.

“It IS plugged in,” the young man responds after barely glancing down at the router.

His energy and attitude are clearly uncaring, unhelpful, and almost depressed.

“But you just looked from above,” I attempt to share the solution. “Normally, when it is unplugged, the worker bends down and reaches back behind to check and reconnect the cable on the backside of the router.”

“It IS plugged in,” the young man again responds without looking. “The internet is slow … that is all I can say.”

An Opportunity To Glow

I begin to walk away, resolving myself to the fact that I will have no internet all night. But then, I turn around in frustration, and return to the doorway, speaking from a space of empowerment, but also feeling annoyed and frustrated.

“Excuse me,” I speak firmly to get the young man’s attention. “I am a paying customer and I really want to use the internet tonight. I would really appreciate it if you would at least act like you cared about my problem.”

“There is nothing I can do,” he defends himself in a resentful, uncaring way.

As I sit in my living room, I attempt to love and accept what is. But I am also slightly fuming and obsessed, feeling quite frustrated by the young man’s attitude. Quietly, I ponder my choices.

“This is an opportunity to find peace by simply accepting and loving what is,” I repeatedly remind myself.

“No, this is an opportunity to practice lovingly speaking my truth to resolve a pressing issue,” I retort.

Soon, inner guidance tells me that either statement could be true, but if I choose the latter statement, I have an opportunity to “go to glow” and to practice resolving an issue using love.

A Glowing Solution

After putting on my shoes and grabbing my umbrella (it is raining), I walk back to the internet café, filling myself with a “Glow Meditation” energy – one of finding a glowing smile in my heart.

“I just rebooted my computer and the internet still does not work.” I begin to explain from a space of love. “I know that the problem is definitely on your end of the link. Do you perhaps have the ability to call the owner or someone else who can tell you how to resolve the issue for me? I really need to use the internet tonight and early tomorrow morning.”

After pausing for a second, the young man shifts his attitude, agrees to make a phone call, and walks over to the telephone. As he begins to dial a number, however, he suddenly stops. I perceive that he is embarrassed to ask for help.

“It is not the satellite link that is the problem, and the modem is sending a strong signal,” I again explain with loving patience, but firmness. “The problem is that the internet cable is not connected to the back of the modem. This is always the case when I have this issue.”

Finally, after unsuccessfully fiddling with a few more things, the young man swallows his pride and calls someone who works fulltime at the internet café. A minute later, he bends down under the counter, reaches behind, and plugs the cable into the modem.

“There were two cables that had been unplugged, and I did not know that,” the young man shares the solution, not even acknowledging that this is exactly what I had attempted to tell him, several times.

When I arrive at home, my internet works beautifully.

“Yippee,” I giggle inside. “I have internet, and I resolved the issue with love and gentle glowing, with sweet-talking persistence. It was a very good lesson for me. It doesn’t even matter that the young man never apologized for his attitude.”

Green Paper With Pictures

Early Saturday morning, June 23, 2012, I enjoy a little internet time before gobbling down my chocolate oatmeal with papaya.

As I prepare to write, my roommate Sufi steps into the living room. I take the opportunity to engage her in a “clearing the air” conversation, hoping to resolve the slight tension that had lingered after our discussion about watering the aloe plant with store-bought, Brenda-purchased purified water.

“Our conversation set me up beautifully for the work I ended up doing in the chocolate ceremony,” I thank Sufi for her loving and gentle triggers.

“It triggered me in my own issues too,” Sufi lovingly responds.

“Would it be disempowering to your process if I were to donate some green paper with pictures on it,” Sufi jokes with me.

“Absolutely not,” I giggle. “My side of the process is to find loving peace and to be perfectly content whether you do, or do not, donate money. Your process is to decide how or if you will contribute. I will gladly accept whatever green paper you wish to donate.”

Magical Energy

Even with many interruptions throughout the day, I manage to spend a beautiful day of writing. My processing lately has been so intense, that this is the first time in nine days where I actually have the time and energy to sit down to resume my deeply integrative process of writing.

Early Saturday evening, I proudly click the publish button on “An Eye-Opening Empath Education.” As usual, the writing brings great insight and understanding to events that happened nearly eight weeks earlier. Part of me is somewhat stressed that I am so far behind in my writing, but the peaceful observer in me knows that all is well. Very soon, Keith will be traveling, and I will have all the time in the world to integrate and write.

After a late evening of watching two more episodes of Glee – a television series that is indeed helping me to integrate the healing of countless high school social issues – I retire to my bed, giggling and flowing with a great deal of magical energy.

An Aloe Vera Reality

I continue to feel amazed by the synchronous flow that guides my process. How could I possibly predict that a silly-but-intense, unexpected, out-of-nowhere debate over watering a suffering sentient Aloe Vera plant could trigger such subsequent growth and insight – growth into lovingly speaking truth – growth related to new-age beliefs – growth related to green paper with pictures – and growth about going to glow.

This has been two days of several difficult discussions, both before, during, and after a beautiful Friday afternoon chocolate ceremony. In every case, I have learned the power of approaching differences from a place of inner heart-glowing love – the power to find peace in each situation.

The first discussion over using purchased purified water to care for an Aloe Vera plant resulted in profound insights about my journey with some new age beliefs – a journey where I have often felt triggered and attacked by people who wish to force their version of truth onto me. The resulting growth has helped me to understand that I do honor and respect all paths – all people’s resonating truth – but that I must be true only to the truth that resonates in my own heart – a truth that guides me to see reality as a manifestation of energy. I see the physical world and body as a projection that originates from the emotional body … and that to alter or heal the physical, the true answer is to heal the underlying emotions.

This journey guided me into further releasing those “new-age God-sticks” and other “resistance-sticks” – a journey that ultimately guided me into understanding how all of my resistance toward any type of “fixing by others” – or beliefs forced on me by others – is ultimately my projected childhood pain at having felt damaged and harmed by my mother’s well-intentioned attempts to help me.

And I absolutely love the deep compassion I now feel for my projection buddy Paul. Who would have thought that, at the core level, we are both dealing with the same type of stuckness and wounded-child pain – just approaching it quite differently.

I love how growth can be so random, unexpected, and profound when simply remaining present, learning to respond with love to whatever flows my way.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

“I don’t have to wake up from a dream, it just happens to me,” I ponder during an early morning meditation. “While dreaming, there is a window where I believe the dream to be my reality, and then suddenly, when I wake up, I am aware that it was all a dream.”

“I don’t sit there in the dream thinking that I need to wake up,” I continue pondering, “I don’t do anything to wake up … it just happens. And when I do wake up like I did yesterday, feeling deep emotions that originated in dreamtime, then that emotion carries over into physical reality, influencing my functioning in this dimension … even though the emotions were from another dimension.”

“Likewise,” the insights keep flowing, “as I work on waking up in this dimension, beginning to open to an even higher dimension, my lifetime of accumulated emotions continue to heavily influence me, causing me to want to stay angry, victimized, betrayed, hurt, and frustrated.”

It is Tuesday morning, June 19, 2012 as I bask in these unfolding metaphors – metaphors that were triggered by a profound and vivid dream about a strange and bizarre trip to a yoga retreat center – one deeply paralleling my life, and the God drama emotions that continue to influence me.

Lucid Parallels

Suddenly, the idea of a lucid dream inspires me deeply. Before my time at Las Piramides Del Ka in the summer of 2010, I did not even understand the concept of what a lucid dream was. But in the course of that summer, I did manage to briefly experience a couple of them for myself. A Lucid dream is one in which something in the dream causes the dreamer to become aware that they are dreaming – a dream where the dreamer actually wakes to physical-reality consciousness while continuing to remain inside the dream, then being able to manipulate and experience the dream dimension from a higher level of consciousness.

“The object in this lifetime is not just to wake up from the dream via death, after which we ascend,” I ponder with intuitive giggles. “The object in this lifetime is to awaken while still in the dream … to essentially have a lucid dream … still being in the physical body, but being fully awake and connected to Source … to my true identity.”

“And during the few times where I successfully woke up in a nighttime dream,” I further giggle, “it was a fun and playful experience … one where I realized I could do anything I wanted, because the reality where I found myself was merely an illusion, my own personal dream … a dream that I create and direct.”

“Physical reality is just the same,” I ponder with delight. “If I can wake up to truly knowing who I really am, I too can do anything I want … I too can play in this physical dimension … being completely connected to higher consciousness without having to die first. Wow!”

Joyful tears of insight flow down my cheeks during this magical morning meditation.

Empath Empathy

I cannot help but giggle as the remainder of my day begins to parallel my dream from yesterday. Keith, Angela, and I do indeed catch a private boat. We leave the dock near Keith’s home at noon, and arrive at the yoga retreat center at precisely 12:30 p.m.. The main difference between my dream and this reality, however, is that we really do arrive at a spiritual retreat center, Keith is actually with us, and we do indeed have all of the supplies we need.

After a huge round of heartfelt hugs with a few friends, we scurry to make final preparations before beginning the magical ceremony at 1:30 p.m., one with just over twenty of us present. As initial meditations progress, I fill my heart with powerful energy and imagine myself as waking up in a lucid dream. During the first couple of hours, I bask in glowing energy, experiencing no doubts, simply radiating my heart.

Eventually, while Keith works his way around the group, I feel guided to work with a woman who is experiencing deep emotion. As she cries, I encourage her to surrender and to let it flow. Soon, intuitions guide me to function as an empath, asking this woman to release some of her emotions to me – reassuring her that I will not take them inside. The woman begins to cry deeply.

“Most of this is not even your own emotion, is it?” I suddenly feel guided to speak, trusting the intuition that put those words in my mouth.

The woman quickly agrees that she is carrying the pain of others, again increasing the intensity of her release. We talk for nearly an hour as I gradually coach her in various concepts related to being an empath … sharing deep beautiful understandings about the positive ways she can use this gift … helping her to understand that she can let her emotional density go without others needing to take it on.

A Beautiful Day

It is a beautiful conversation. Keith has his back to me the whole time, and I perceive that he has no idea that I am even doing this.

“I do not need him to know,” I ponder with giggles. “I am quite proud of following my intuitions, and have received my own validation through this woman’s responses.”

When Keith eventually arrives to where I am assisting, I move away, giving him space to work. I silently giggle as Keith lovingly guides her even deeper, seeming to validate everything that I had already done with this woman.

Eventually, I back away completely, returning to my own seat and holding space at a group level. My heart is strong, and confidence surges in my veins. I need no validation or feedback. I find it quite interesting as I observe Keith give repeated, beautiful feedback to Angela and others – but neither Keith nor Angela say even a single word to me about my participation. Somehow, I know that this, in and of itself, is a part of my own process.

Inspiration From Oneness

Later Tuesday evening, we enjoy a nice dinner at the retreat center before catching a return boat to San Marcos. As I step into my apartment shortly after 9:00 p.m., I quickly check my email and discover a couple of quotes from Rasha that deeply inspire me. The first is “Wisdom of Oneness #47”:

“Buried in the depths of your illusions, far beneath the distortions of all you were taught to believe, is a level of self that would remain untouched. It is that precious spark of your own Divinity that you’d seek to discover, safe within you, when all else failed – as you knew it would. You were the one who set it up that way.”

Wow, this ties right into my God drama and the lucid dreaming insights I had this morning – fitting in exactly with where I find myself in my process. I AM deeply focused on finding and awakening in the dream, seeking that precious spark of my own Divinity – a Divinity that is the actual consciousness doing the dreaming.

The second quote, “A Moment Of Oneness #64” also inspires me deeply, speaking for itself:

“You are amongst the forerunners of a new paradigm who will set the precedents upon which the ground rules of the new world will be based. You have identified yourself to yourself and have dared to stand alone in the Light of your inner truth, while others, still cloaked in the self-righteousness of consensus thinking, throw stones – as the very fabric of that reality unravels. And you have exercised the wisdom to stand firm in your truth and watch quietly as the cards are shuffled and reshuffled and the lives of others succumb to the shifting tides of change.”

Self-Perpetuating Loop

Early Wednesday morning, after a difficult night of sleep, I drag myself out of bed, take a quick shower, gobble down some chocolate oatmeal with papaya, and rush down to the boat dock. As I ride the 8:00 a.m. boat on my way to Panajachel, a myriad of emotions flow through me … childhood stories … present stories … and God drama stories from throughout life. It seems that I am quite annoyed, projecting more of my God drama onto Keith for how, yesterday, he seemed to gush his praise over Angela and others, but literally ignored me, acting as if I was not even present at the yoga retreat.

I begin to feel the triggered pain of a lifelong pattern that has actually repeated itself several times – a pattern where I am doing really well in work, or in this situation and that situation. Then, suddenly, a younger star, with more magic and a dynamic personality unexpectedly waltzes into the picture and upstages me. From that point on, even while doing amazing work of my own, someone else gets all the glory and attention.

“Why am I creating this pattern in my life, yet again?” I ponder with painful curiosity. “What is it I need to learn?”

The obvious answer is that this is another deep example and manifestation of my God drama – of how, no matter what I do with my own magic, someone else always steps in to take the glory. I then get ignored (by God), and eventually forgotten, blah, blah, blah.

I struggle with these stories, but am determined to allow them to flow. I know that the only way to heal is to dive into the drama, to understand it from the inside out, and to learn to love myself in the middle of it all. I have a deep resolve to heal this self-perpetuating loop, and “know myself” and “love myself” seem to be the key ingredients in doing so.

Sandal Silliness

I giggle as I engage in this quick banking and shopping trip. I also have another silly-but-very-real errand. Just a month ago, I carried three sandals to Panajachel – one-half of three different pairs of sandals that had all suddenly started to fall apart in quick succession. Today, I carry the other half of each pair. Less than a week after repairing those first three sandals, the other three (opposite feet) had rapidly begun to fall apart. But today, I also carry both halves of a fourth pair of sandals – the same sandals I had worn when that exotic-looking tick bit me during a dance ceremony in the middle of the jungles of Ek Balam in the Yucatan (Nov 2009) – the same sandals that I had never worn since, because they rubbed that third-degree burn area.

When ALL of my other sandals had become unusable, those old sandals were my only option. Then, to my shock, as I began to wear them, they too began to literally fall apart.

“I wonder what the message of the Universe is on this crazy metaphor?” I ponder as I hand parts of four pairs of sandals to a street vendor who repairs shoes. “Why would literally all of my casual footwear quickly fall apart at the same time?”

The answer to this metaphor never fully gels, other than wondering if the message is perhaps that it is time to connect more with the Divine feminine energies of Mother Earth … to take off and remove the obstacles that prevent me from more directly connecting.

I giggle when I pay my thirty quetzales (about $4.00 US) for the five repaired sandals. The man spent more than an hour, tediously repairing the stitching. The work has a definite homemade look but is perfectly adequate and functional for my needs.

Need For Safety

After rushing home on the 11:00 a.m. boat, I arrive on Keith’s home at 12:15 p.m. – expecting that the porch will be ready to roll … but Keith is just as late as I am. As we scurry around with last minute preparations, we do not actually begin the ceremony until about 1:15 p.m.

But there really is no official start … no introductions … no meditations. Keith feels guided simply to sit down and allow the porch to take its own course. As I drink my chocolate, I immediately feel an aching nausea in my stomach.

“Why am I creating this chaotic environment?” I ponder with frustration as the gathering is consumed by random surface chatter.

I feel so annoyed, so lost in my God drama, that I almost just stand up and leave. I do not want to go through another crazy ceremony.

“But I know I am somehow creating this,” I ponder. “Surely, if I stay, something good will come as a result. But why would I be doing this to myself?”

As I focus on peacefully seeing the porch as my own personal stage play, with all participants being my leading actors and actresses, my abdomen shakes with wild anxiety.

“This is about my deep personal need to control my sandbox,” I ponder with clarity. “It is about my unmet childhood need for security, peace of mind, structure, and order in my environment – about my need to feel energetically safe. Just like I feel today, I was raised in an environment that was not supportive of emotional release or the magical energies that caused me to feel those emotions.”

Unsettling And Unnerving

Eventually, after more than an hour of random disorder, Keith opens his eyes, speaks up, and announces that he is available for personal work if anyone would like some help.

About this same time, I finally recognize that I am in a powerful process – one that is driving me crazy with anxiety. I continue to observe, remaining present, trying not to judge anything, attempting to visualize myself floating down a river. To my dismay, these metaphors of surrender only serve to create even more anxiety.

I attempt to love myself as being the creator of this stage play – a stage play giving me an opportunity to practice peace amidst chaos … to just be, to lighten up, and to not judge what is.

Over the next while, several people ask questions at a shallow, rational-mind level. Each time, Keith briefly engages them, but does not give them the rational-mind answer that they want.

As I observe this scenario, my God drama is again triggered – causing me to feel afraid to ask questions – causing me to project that I too will receive no help today. I begin to loop back into the same patterns that have lately been so prevalent in my process.

Meanwhile, a great deal of surface level bantering continues to unfold as my anxiety intensifies. I have energetic popcorn in my belly as I experience deep and painful energetic pressures – pressures causing me to feel nausea – pressures that are unnerving and unsettling.

A Lost Loser

Finally, during a pause, I glance at Keith, and he returns my gaze.

“I am struggling with two things,” I begin to share. “The first is being present with increasing panic that is consuming me … and the second is with my God drama fears of even asking for help, believing I will not receive it if I ask.”

Keith seems to validate my fear when he seems to give no help at all. Instead, he simply encourages me to be the adult empath that I am while connecting with my inner child and helping to release the fear of the child.

“I am so deep in these emotions that I feel unable to do that,” I protest to Keith. “I have been trying to do that for the whole ceremony.”

“Brenda,” Keith gently responds, “you do it the same way that you do it with other people in ceremony. How do you do that?”

“I bring energy into my heart, express my intent, and get out of the way … trusting my heart,” I respond quickly. “But I can’t do that with all of this emotion plugging me up.”

Suddenly, another woman interrupts, someone else then interrupts her, and the conversation gets away into another round of distraction. Keith closes his eyes, and I just face back into my corner of being a lost loser.

Permission To Sob

After another half hour of painful futility, making no progress with my emotions, being unable to focus because of distractions, and believing I will receive no attention or help, I finally fold up my blanket, grab my belongings from the storeroom, and prepare to leave. I cannot do this anymore. I am hopelessly stuck and do not want to be here. I want to go home and cry … and I absolutely do not feel inclined to humiliate myself in front of such a stuck and distracted group.

But before actually leaving, I stack my three small cushions in front of me and briefly lean forward onto those cushions – my face being hopelessly buried in the top one.

In a last ditch effort, I try to imagine myself being an empath. Suddenly, I realize that my little inner child just wants to sob. As I imagine that precious child beginning to cry, doing so only on the inside, I suddenly feel as if I am able to bring in a little light to hold space while giving my inner child permission to sob.

“That little child never had permission to cry,” intuitions begin to flood me. “And when I did cry, I got into trouble for doing so. I was coerced into stopping as soon as possible. My crying made others uncomfortable … it was seen as unhealthy and disruptive.”

To The Bottom And Back Again

As I burry my head in the cushion, I begin to feel as if I actually am being an empath for my child. The inner emotion soon overwhelms me and I begin to sob on the outside, doing so silently, with lots of dry heaving and muffled tears. I begin to intentionally clench my hands and arms, doing so to help me further connect to the child’s energetic blocking.

Someone soon comes over and places their hand on the center of my back. The energy feels so warm and pure, so soft and unconditional. The “old me” almost pushes the energy assistance away, but I clearly recognize the pure intent. When I look up to see who is touching me, I see the face of a young woman that I do not know. With her support, I sob for perhaps a half hour. When the young woman eventually returns to her seat, I continue to allow the sobs for another twenty minutes or so.

Finally, after reaching the bottom of the pain, and after focusing on bringing in the light, I feel much lighter – very relaxed.

Guidance To Cry

Eventually, Keith checks in with me. After discussing my journey for a few minutes, Keith begins to share.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you were not allowed to feel or express your emotions for much of your youth and childhood. You now need to give yourself permission to feel these emotions to the core.”

“But I feel so humiliated and unsafe crying on the porch anymore, especially in environments like today,” I share my dilemma.

“Brenda, that is your creation,” Keith responds, helping me to realize that I am literally recreating my childhood environment for learning purposes – an environment where sharing emotions was forbidden and very unsafe.

“You need to cry into this emotion without getting lost in it,” Keith continues. “Cry to the bottom and then bring in the light … or don’t cry to the bottom and then wallow in it for a few days.”

As I ponder Keith’s words, I clearly prefer the first choice – that of crying to the bottom and bringing in the light.

Childhood Projections

I perceive that Keith keeps his distance from me for the remainder of the ceremony. It seems that he is preoccupied and somewhat annoyed by me – doing the bare minimum to keep me satisfied and quiet.

But the detached observer in me clearly sees that this is my own childhood paranoia projecting this reality onto Keith … that he is actually (knowingly or unknowingly) playing the role of my parents and others who did exactly that to me as a child. My caretakers were preoccupied, annoyed by my outbursts, and treated my crying as a symptom that must be fixed.

The deeply emotional part of me, however, absolutely knows that such treatment is all I will ever get. I feel so lonely in this painful reality.

Perfectly Orchestrated

Later that evening, after running home for a couple of peanut butter sandwiches, I again find myself on Keith’s porch – this time participating in the bagging of freshly ground chocolate.

As I perform my duties, I merely tolerate the environment around me, while feeling like a total stranger. I am still lost in that childhood reality, feeling dysfunctional and withdrawn. My magic eraser is fast at work, erasing memories of my beautiful light connections while showing me the deep dysfunction that remains inside.

As I methodically double check the weight on every bag of chocolate, deep emotions of hopeless futility swarm me.

Meanwhile, I quietly observe as Angela runs around the porch with her camera. Keith frequently engages her in magical discussions about this and that. I quickly return to feeling like an abandoned loser, feeling totally stupid about how they are both so connected to the energies while I am an energetic loser.

As I ponder before bed, I obviously see how the ceremony today was perfectly orchestrated for me … that I really did create this reality in a very powerful way. I just wish I did not need to feel this profound childhood pain, rejection, and isolation so deeply.

Masking The Pain

After numbly playing computer games for two hours, I finally retire to my bed shortly before 11:00 p.m.. To my chagrin, I immediately sink into fifteen minutes of deep sobbing and gut-wrenching dry heaves. But rather than resist, I dive into the pain with my observer eyes wide open. When the wave of emotion passes, I again feel much lighter.

Soon, I ponder ever deeper – exploring the deep social agony of my youth, and the inability to cry about it, or to express such emotion in any healthy way. Instead, to minimize suspicion, I felt obligated to pretend to be the Eagle Scout, the righteous and religious award winner, the mask-wearing athlete, the honor-role student, the teacher’s pet, and countless other smiling roles of perfection.

“Crap, crap, crap,” I ponder in agony. “I had to put on a fake happy face … never being able to feel any of the deep pain … feeling obligated to push it all down and bury it. That is what is bubbling inside now. I was terrified of crying … terrified of expressing this emotion. It was so bottled up that I was socially dysfunctional and could not do a thing about it.”

Painful Realities

Thursday morning, after less than two hours of actual sleep, I am wide awake at 1:00 a.m.. Finally, after five hours of failure at returning to sleep, I crawl out of bed at 6:00 a.m., exhausted and frustrated.

Emotional pain from the past continues to flow through me … pain telling me I am a teenage loser, a social misfit, and that this loop is one that I am destined to repeat forever.

At 9:00 a.m., I walk out to Keith’s home, hoping to schedule an appointment to discuss this hopeless dilemma. After scheduling me for a 6:00 p.m. session, Keith asks how I am doing.

“I belong in a mental institution,” I express through tears. “One minute I am fine and deeply connected to the light. In the next minute I am lost in social dysfunction and loser-ness.”

“As long as you identify with it, you will keep manifesting situations to bring it up,” Keith shares a profound truth.

“But it is so current and real in my life that I find it impossible not to attach to it as being my present reality,” I express in emotional frustration.

“We’ll see if we can help you move some of that this evening,” Keith reassures me.

An Unwanted Outsider

Throughout the morning, I pass through repeated waves of emotion, each time giving myself permission to cry, to feel the pain to the core, and to then bring in more light. Soon, my roommate Sufi offers loving support.

“I know this is not real,” I express my situation, “but right now I am lost in it … and I keep manifesting it.”

“I feel like an outsider, like an unwanted loser-presence that people around me just tolerate,” I share through renewed sobs.

“Ouch that hurts,” I blurt out through increased tears. “That last sentence hits really close to home. That really is how I felt throughout my teenage years, and most of my life since.”

Finally, shortly after noon, feeling exhausted from lack of sleep, I attempt to nap – but even with only two hours of nighttime sleep, further rest is fleeting and impossible.

Savor The Transformation

Again, I find comfort as another quote shows up in my email. This one deeply inspires me to trust my flow, to simply surrender to my process. It is “Wisdom of Oneness #48”

“Permit yourself the luxury of savoring this experience of transformation. It is not one to be rushed. The end result will manifest in its own time in a very natural way, when you allow the process to direct you and cease trying to direct the process.”

I do not wish to rush my process, and I totally appreciate that this transformation is one to be savored … but the thought of savoring the ongoing pain and anguish causes me to cringe. It hurts too much … but I will try.

I spend the remainder of a very long afternoon, cycling through repeat episodes of the flowing emotion and further episodes of Glee, doing all I can to honor the emotions flowing through me without reenergizing them.

Finally, I stabilize in a very peaceful place, eagerly anticipating my evening session with Keith.

Self-Brutalized

To my delight, as I sit for a long chat with Keith, he greets me with a wonderful, sensitive, and caring approach.

“I could tell when I talked to you this morning that you were in a really good place,” Keith congratulates me for going deeper. “You are doing what you need to do. You need to go into this pain to release it.”

“I am doing layer after layer with baby steps,” I share my intuition. “Each layer is frightening. I go as deep as I can, I sob for a while, and I bring in more light for transmutation and stability.”

“I really do feel like I belong in a mental institution for the massive mood swings,” I express through suddenly flowing tears.

“Brenda,” Keith immediately responds. “You WERE in a mental institution then.”

“Yeah,” I acknowledge. “Today, as I processed deeper, I realized that the emotions were so agonizing and intense that I did not even want to live … but I had to pretend that all was perfect so that no one would even suspect my situation.”

“Brenda, intense agony is a massive understatement,” Keith emphasizes. “You were brutalized.”

“Yeah, and when I got older I took over that role of brutalizing myself,” I add with clarity.

Do What You Need To Do

“But how many layers of these emotions do I have to process?” I beg for hope.

“Brenda,” Keith responds, “in order to be done, you need to reach a point where you do what you need to do … such as going into these tears, layer after layer … without caring what anyone else thinks.”

“I was almost at that point until I recently felt slammed by a friend who insisted that I should not still be going into the tears,” I express my frustration to Keith. “She is such a powerful and magical being that it is hard to allow myself to cry when I feel her judgment insisting that I should not.”

“She just does not know how to help you,” Keith reassures me about my friend. She cares about you a great deal and respects what you are doing.”

A Sense Of Duty

Soon Keith offers to assist me in releasing some of that emotion in an easier way – releasing it to him as the powerful empath that he is.

“Let go of what you can,” Keith holds his hands out in front of me.

“Can you please guide me,” I beg, “perhaps giving me play-by-play feedback on how you perceive my energy.”

“Just don’t think about the feedback,” Keith responds. “Just go to a place of nothingness, no thinking, not needing to know.”

“Now you are letting some emotion flow out of you,” Keith shares about ten minutes later. “You are not allowing more to leave because you believe that it is your duty to carry this stuff.”

“Can we work on releasing that duty?” I query.

“That is what we are doing now,” Keith responds.

Channeled Magic

Finally, in a way I have never before seen him do, Keith begins to channel my guides for me, giving me amazing guidance for the next half hour. How I wish I had a voice recorder with me … I want to remember every beautiful word.

“Do not try to remember,” Keith guides me when I briefly interrupt to share my dilemma, “Just listen and allow.”

Later, as I attempt to record memories, most of those beautiful words have vanished. I totally believe, however, that the essence of those truth-filled messages remains deeply engrained in my soul.

Following is an inadequate paraphrasing of the few words I can remember:

“You set it up to go through layer after layer of exploring your pain, and each layer is getting easier and smoother. You set it up as your teacher, and you are learning. Your lesson is to let go of all judgment about the present moment. Until then, you will continue to loop through this process. At any point in time you have a choice as to how you will proceed, but do not judge any of it …”

The words that Keith channels to me are beautiful, peaceful, and profoundly trust enhancing. Many times as I listen with awe, tears of joy stream down my cheeks. Deep peace resonates in my soul as he soon finishes and resumes talking as Keith.

Profoundly Peaceful Patience

“Brenda,” Keith soon guides me, “you are being prepared, by your own choice, to fully understand all aspects of the ‘hard bus’ so that you will be able to help people move to the ‘easy bus’.”

Then, Keith smiles and speaks from a place of pure unconditional love and profoundly peaceful patience – speaking from deeply genuine energy – unexpectedly telling me something that I desperately need to hear.

“I fully understand what you are going through,” Keith lovingly reassures me. “I have never been bored or frustrated with you, not even once. I, in my own way, did the same humiliating work and I deeply understand and honor you for doing what you are doing.”

“But you are often so frustrated and impatient with me,” I beg for clarity.

“I play my role well when the energies tell me to do so,” Keith confesses with a huge grin. “You are doing beautifully in your process.”

Profound Trust

“I love Angela dearly, and know she profoundly deserves your praise …” I seek further feedback. “But when you were gushing all over her with compliments in the last few days, while at the same time not even acknowledging my presence, do you have any idea how triggered I felt … how deeply that took me into my God drama?”

“Yeah, I know,” Keith responds with a sly smile. “I was fully aware of how it was affecting you.”

As I listen to Keith lovingly admit the depth to which he plays roles for me under the direction of my higher energies, I almost giggle inside about how deeply triggered I have been.

I have always seen how profoundly the events on the porch seem to serve me – how they are all my creation – and now, Keith’s loving confessions are helping me to recognize how awake he has been in his knowing participation with those events.

Such realization gives me a sense of profound trust – more trust than I think I have ever had for my guide and mentor.

A Big Stick

“I often judge myself because I think I should be able to do things differently, more easily, on the fun bus,” I ask Keith for guidance.

“Let go of the shoulds, the musts, and the need-tos,” Keith strongly emphasizes.

Keith then guides me into a meditation, telling me that I am holding a stick that represents self-flogging, self-judgment, guilt, shoulds, must, and other such things. He tells me that beginning in childhood I had to beat myself with this stick in order to be worthy … and to conform.

“I think my mother is the one that originally gave me that stick,” I ponder out loud. “And then, when I got older, I took over using that same stick to flog myself.”

“If she is the one who gave that stick to you,” Keith guides me, “it is time to give that stick back to your mother.”

Holding The Stick

As I further meditate, I clearly recognize that my mother is simply the spokesperson for a whole culture that stands behind her.

“Bring them all in,” Keith guides me to expand the meditation.

I struggle for several minutes, doubting myself, unable to trust my sensitivities, not believing that my mother’s energy is standing in front of me.

“She is already standing right there,” Keith soon reassures me, referring to my mother’s higher essence.

As I imagine myself holding that metaphorical stick out in front of me, I experience a great deal of resistance in doing so.

“It is my sacred duty to hold this stick,” I ponder the powerful resistance, “This stick came from my religion, and was later adapted to my culture. Now, even without that religion and culture, I have modified the stick to control my view of my new beliefs.

Finally, I am able to intuitively feel myself pushing the stick out in front of me. I am grasping it in the middle, with it suspended horizontally.

Vivid Descriptions

“How long is it?” Keith asks me to describe the stick.

“About three feet,” I eventually respond as a clear intuitive picture begins to form. “It is perhaps an inch and a half in diameter, made of a branch, mostly straight, but with a few knots and slight bends, having had all the bark peeled off.”

“It is clear that I used it for flogging myself,” I again emphasize.

“There are little designs carved into it,” I soon describe what I cannot see with eyes but what I clearly sense. “The designs are to make it all pretty. It was my precious God-stick to use in worship … honored and cherished … created to keep me in line with obedience and doctrine.”

Shocking Truth

“That stick is God’s love,” Keith eventually tells me.

“Ouch,” I exclaim. “No wonder I hate God so much. In order to be loved by God, I had to beat myself with all of those judgments, shoulds, musts, etc…, and the stick kept my heart shut down because an open heart caused so many problems.”

“And so now, bringing in more love means having an even bigger stick,” Keith throws in more shocking truth.

“Ouch,” I again exclaim. “No wonder my God drama runs so deep. I am terrified of more love … of an even bigger stick … knowing that I already cannot measure up to the stick that I have. I could never live up to an even bigger stick. I would surely be manipulated, controlled, beaten, and fail – far beyond my capacity. I cannot live up to that image of the light shadow. It is a beautiful visual metaphor, but quite frightening.”

Returning The Stick

“Give the stick to your mother and let it go all the way to the founding fathers,” Keith gives me semi-puzzling advice. “I am guided that you will know what it means when I say that.”

“I think it refers to the founding fathers of my childhood religion … to the men who organized that religion,” I soon respond.

I soon imagine my mother standing in front of me. Behind her are my father and an expanding “V-like” triangle of both church leaders and direct ancestors … a triangle going all the way back to the beginning of my childhood religion.

As I visualize myself passing the stick to my mother, holding it horizontally in front of her, I intuitively feel it pass right through her. The stick continues to flow through all the others, to the very back of that group of ancestors and church leaders. Then It seems to simply vanish.

“I did not see white light or anything like that,” I share with Keith, “but I felt the stick sort of swoosh back through them all before it transmuted into thin air.”

Angelic Programmers

“Under the direction of your Higher Self,” Keith then guides me, “invite the higher programming that you are now ready for, to come in and occupy the space in you that is now free.”

I giggle as I quickly imagine a large team of angelic software engineers. As they stand in front of me, I ask them to connect with my Higher Self and to fill me with divine reprogramming. I then get out of my head, without expecting anything specific, not having a clue what will happen next, choosing to simply observe and feel.

I visualize myself as resting on a beach, basking in the sun, observing the sensations in my body as I gradually relax. Soon I begin to feel little pains in my solar plexus, sacral chakra, high heart region, throat, head, legs, and arms. The little sensations are prickly, like tiny foot-waking-up pains scattered throughout my body.

The more I relax my body, the more anxious I begin to feel. I literally feel as if I am out of breath, as if the squeamy sensations from my clenched forearms have spread into my abdomen, lungs, and heart.

I sit in this beautiful meditation, observing the anxious fears that come and go mixed with the beautiful energetic sensations that tantalize my physical being. I clearly recognize that the anxious fears stem from that fear that more love means a bigger stick. I can only trust that these fears are being released as I allow myself to feel them.

When Keith gently interrupts my bliss to announce that he has an upcoming Skype session in a few minutes, I give him a quick thank-you hug and leave for home. I am very grounded and peaceful, dancing all the way. At least for now, I know that my unfolding process is perfect … that I can simply be present, and trust each present moment with no judgment.

True Colors

The gentle flow of recent days has been magical, beginning with profound metaphors of how the awakening process is quite similar to entering a lucid dream – of waking up to the truth of who I really am while continuing to function inside the dream of this illusory physical reality.

But another theme has been quite dominant – further guiding me into ever-deepening understanding of the God drama. This time the synchronous flow has taken me to another lifelong loop – one of being a magical and devoted worker, but always ending up being overlooked, overshadowed by an even more magical worker who does not carry the same social dysfunctions that cause me to isolate and back away from creative ventures. And, as the metaphor unfolds, it seems that God, as projected onto Keith, is once again the fall-guy onto whom I project blame for ignoring me, abandoning me, betraying me, and leaving me to feel all alone and stupid.

The next recurring theme is that of being unable to ask for help, knowing that if I do ask, the help will not be given anyway. Mingled with this theme is the almost paranoid knowing that others will judge me if I ask, that others will scorn me if I cry, and that any emotional expression whatsoever only causes punishment and abandonment, making me feel as if I am an unwanted outcast whose crybaby presence is merely tolerated. I have magically created repeated ceremonies to show me this childhood “unsafe to cry” environment – to place this issue in front of me as it demands my focus and attention.

But perhaps my deepest joy came from a beautiful private session with Keith. In spite of my ever-increasing projections onto Keith, he has shown his true and genuine colors – gently reminding me that he deeply understands what I am going through, and that he honors me for having the courage to do what I am doing. I love how he repeatedly encourages me to ignore the judgments of others, to do what I need to do, to cry to the core of my endless layers of pain, and to then bring in the light.

It really is time to stop flogging myself with that God-stick – that fake version of God’s love that was passed down through church and ancestors – that self-flogging weapon that was used to instill guilt, shame, shoulds and musts. It was controlling manipulation that caused me to hate and feel betrayed by a love that should have been pure and unconditional.

As I ponder how that stick magically disappeared into transmuted nothingness, I smile inside.

“Maybe … just maybe … that big stick is gone for good.” I giggle with hope.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

For the fourth day in a row, I sit at my computer with the intention of writing. The last three attempts at integrating and documenting my journey have resulted in three days of surrender – three days of sinking into emotions that continue to run much deeper than expected. Today, July 27, 2012, optimistic feelings encourage that I just might be successful.

I now return in time – to a day nearly six weeks ago. It is Sunday, June 17, 2012.

Love Yourself

As I quickly scan the internet early on Sunday morning, I note two facts with passing interest. First, today is Father’s Day back home in the United States. Second, I smile with delight as I realize that I feel no painful emotion – that a day that used to trigger emotional guilt and regret carries no charge whatsoever. I quickly scribble a curious line in my notes “Father’s day … no emotions about it … but I wish??”

It will be weeks before this line in my notes returns to haunt me.

I feel lighter this morning, experiencing glimpses of renewed happiness, yet I also sense a confusing layer of repressed emotion just beneath conscious awareness. As I immerse myself in reading the book “Oneness” by Rasha, one particular section jumps out at me. I do not bother recording the actual quote or reference, but clearly remember the message – a message about how important it is to love yourself even in the midst of humiliation and dysfunction.

As I later assist Keith in preparations for a Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony, I find myself content and happy, being giggly and social with others who arrive early. I even do some joking around with Paul.

Mind Reading

“I am in my power today,” I ponder during the initial meditation. “I suspect that I will be helping others.

Later, as the “Glow Meditation” proceeds, I feel strong inner guidance to work with a woman across the porch – a woman who is crying a great deal. Intuitions strongly whisper that it is my job to go assist her – yet I resist, doubting myself, feeling a sense of “not yet.”

Eventually, Keith glances my way with a glow in his eyes.

“Go work with her,” I feel Keith’s silent guidance, without his needing to say a single word.

“I know,” I respond with my thoughts. “I have been feeling that too.”

I grin, because I feel as if both Keith and I are literally communicating without words, simply reading each other’s minds and gestures.

Soon, I am sitting sit with this woman, holding loving energetic space, occasionally encouraging her to surrender and to go deeper, bringing in the light when appropriate. Eventually, intuitions tell me that my participation is over, and I return to my seat.

A Time Of Humiliation

As Keith slowly works his way around the porch, I continue to watch and observe, holding space for others – doing so from the comfort of my own cushion. I begin to pay particular attention when Keith works with a young woman, I will call her Deb. She is very shutdown, but deeply magical. Keith and Angela both comment about the amazing energetic gifts that they sense in her, but Deb is unable to see it, struggling to trust herself. Keith explains to her how she is standing in front of an obstacle that cannot be solved with the mind – a metaphorical five-meter wall of glass that she cannot climb under her own power.

Soon, Keith shares personal stories about how he spent three years in humiliation – being unable to move beyond his own inner blocks – explaining how he was doing some of the best inner work in his own group, but was still stuck, sometimes feeling judged and ridiculed by others.

I deeply relate to Keith’s story. I continue to frequently experience the humiliation of my own state. I am doing profound inner work, but feel as if I am using a spoon to move a mountain, making little progress toward my final goal. Meanwhile, it seems that other magical beings can suddenly move an entire metaphorical mountain with little effort at all.

When Keith leaves Deb to work with her issue, she indicates that she is only perhaps twenty percent of the way over the wall, and that progress feels hopeless. Perhaps an hour later, however, when Keith turns to check in with Deb, she is glowing with energy as she confidently announces that she made it over the wall, that she has healed so much.

My sense of humiliation again skyrockets. I feel like a loser – doing layer after layer of profound inner work, yet still standing at the bottom of that unsolvable riddle.

The Voice Of Hopelessness

There are several young women who are at the ceremony for the first time today – beautiful magical beings from elsewhere in Central America. As I observe Keith work with them, it becomes profoundly obvious that they are all extremely sensitive and deeply aware empaths, sensing things in their first ceremony that boggle my mind.

“I am such a stupid loser,” the inner voices scream in my head.

I am frustrated, feeling the hopelessness and futility of my own inability to open up even basic sensitivities that seem obvious and natural to these young women. After more than a year and a half of nearly nonstop deep work with Keith, I still cannot do what they are doing in their first ceremony – and they do not even appreciate it.

“I am a stupid, stupid, stupid loser,” the voices continue to humiliate me in my head. “There is no hope for me. I just want to give up. I will never be able to do what they can do.”

“And if I ask for help,” I silently scream in frustration, “I know I won’t get it.”

Stupid Loser Energy

Meanwhile, I observe as Keith begins to work with the woman that I had assisted at the beginning of the ceremony. He spends nearly half of the entire ceremony working only with her, assisting her with powerful growth and opening.

I am increasingly losing myself in the God drama, into a state of absolute knowing that I am not going to get any help today. Inner voices insist that if I DO ask for help, I will likely be rejected, ridiculed, and ignored.

I am projecting my God drama onto Keith, clearly recognizing how I am creating this reality on the porch – understanding how Keith is weaning me from dependency – but desperately knowing that I cannot progress without further assistance. It is a very confusing dilemma.

Finally, just as Keith begins to approach my cushion, someone else interrupts him and diverts his attention. Soon, the topic of this man’s real-life sisters becomes quite relevant.

Suddenly, I recognize that much of my own “I am a stupid loser” energy – energy that is surfacing today in a big way – comes directly from my brother

Voices Of The Past

“When I was four my brother was twelve years old,” I ponder. “He used to tease me incessantly, and being a twelve-year-old who was just entering puberty, having to share his room with a four-year-old emotionally sensitive crybaby and effeminate little boy (me), would have been quite difficult for him.”

“I got slammed by him,” the unfolding intuitive insights mix with actual memories. “I remember how his frequent teasing actually frightened me. Even though I can now clearly see that in his perspective he was just innocently teasing me … I was often quite afraid of my brother. From as early as I can remember, up until about age ten, his behavior intimidated me. I can only imagine how I must have driven him crazy and how, as an empath, I unknowingly took in his struggling emotions – emotions that he would have been feeling as a young teen.”

“A great deal of this “I am stupid, I can’t do it, I am a loser” energy comes from my brother,” I again ponder with deep clarity. “I need to give this energy back to my brother.”

I want to be clear that I love my older brother dearly. I understand how he was just dealing with his own teenage survival during my very young and tender formative years. But I also recognize that some of what I am carrying at an emotional level does indeed originate with and belong to my brother, and it is his job to energetically release it, not mine.

Soon, I imagine my brother’s Higher Self essence standing in front of me. I begin to cry as I ask my brothers energies to take back any of the voices and beliefs that might indeed belong to him. Almost immediately, I invite my mother’s Higher Essence to join us, also asking her to take back more of the conditioning that came from her.

I feel a certain amount of hesitation and guilt for giving these voices back – as if the voices will hurt those I love – but I clearly recognize that many of these self-perpetuated belief systems are not mine to carry. I remain in this very emotional space, asking Higher Energies to sort out what voices belong to whom, for perhaps a half hour.

Damned If I Do Or Don’t

Finally, as the ceremony nears completion, Keith glances my way to check in. After I quickly summarize my journey for the day, I ask if perhaps he can guide me to a next step or help me go any deeper.”

“Nope,” Keith congratulates me. “You have done great work today. My guidance is for you to take a rest and to integrate and to feel good about what you did.”

I love Keith’s deeply validating feedback, but again feel the buttons of my God drama being triggered – buttons that almost speak, rubbing it in that when I am strong and self-sufficient that I am ignored and expected to do everything by myself.

As Keith finishes up with another beautiful young man, I sink deeper into this God drama anger.

“I DON’T GET HELP,” The inner voices silently scream.

I clearly recognize that I am experiencing the childhood emotions of resentment and confusion – confusion about a cycle of futility and hopelessness – confusion about how I know I will be rejected and punished regardless, whether I need help, or whether I try to do something by myself.

“If I ask for help then I am ridiculed, resisted, and shamed until I finally get pathetic enough that those in authority give me the help I need,” I ponder the drama I have played out since being a tiny child. “I am damned if I need help, and damned if I do not.”

Unsolvable Riddles

Again, I ponder a looped rope course – one that was used as an experiential exercise during one of my psychology classes – one where classmates tied a continuous loop of rope around trees and signs in a parking lot. After being blindfolded, I was told that the objective was to find the end of the rope, and if I got stuck I could ask for help. I quickly discovered that there was no end – but refused to ask for help because I was determined to solve the riddle using my mind – to prove my intellect by doing so. Later, I silently fumed when I learned that the solution to the unsolvable riddle was simply to “ask for help.”

Soon, Keith turns to work with me and I explain how my own stuck process feels like an agonizing unsolvable loop – of how I need help but know I will not get it if I ask.

“You set up this unsolvable loop,” Keith explains. “You intentionally designed it to be impossible, with no way out … so that you would have to rely on Higher Energies to help.”

Keith suddenly becomes quite helpful, sharing a great deal of guidance, most of which disappears into my swirling confusion. I feel like a crazy and stupid loser for pursuing my need for more guidance. But Keith quickly eliminates my self-judgment when he patiently begins to explain my dilemma to the handful of others who yet remain on the porch.

Self-Love And Self-Acceptance

“What Brenda is doing is not wrong,” Keith emphasizes quite loudly. “She carefully crafted this entire situation for a reason, and the only way out of her loop is to arrive at the lesson that she wanted to learn. During my own three years of humiliation, I needed to learn compassion for being in such a place.”

“I know that my own unsolvable loop has a lot to do with the same,” I respond. “I need to learn compassion, self-love, and self-acceptance for being so humiliated and stuck – because I understand that I will be working with many others who are equally stuck and I need to have the inner love and patience to understand them.”

A great deal of my own “I am a loser” energy quickly dissipates as Keith tells others that I am doing advanced and powerful work.

Seconds later, I ponder the profound words I read this morning in “Oneness” by Rasha – words encouraging me to love myself in the middle of humiliation and dysfunction.

“I know this whole process is designed to teach me self-love,” I ponder.

Yucky Childhood Emotions

But right now I am still swimming in a reservoir of childhood emotions – a yucky muck of futility and hopelessness. I am drowning in that stinking swamp, wanting to give up, not caring, believing that help will never come regardless of what I do – knowing that help is never available once I begin to show signs of self-empowerment.

“Empowerment absolutely equates to rejection and abandonment,” I ponder the futility.

Keith and I soon discuss how I am still at the bottom of my own five-meter wall of glass – that I am mired in my God drama, and that the only way out is to “own the game that I am playing with God.” It is a game where I refuse to allow such Higher-Energy help until I receive that apology from God.

I know that self-love and surrendering to the flow of my process are my only hope – but right now the yucky muck of childhood emotions have their slimy hands around my neck. I cry in futility for a while as others ignore me. One young man encourages me to scream it out if I need to, but I am unable to access such anger – recognizing that there is no one to be angry at – that I designed this whole situation to learn compassion.

“But perhaps I need to further feel and get to know the truth-with-a-lowercase-t of these victimization emotions,” I ponder in my confusion. “Perhaps I need to go deeper into subconscious experience and know-myself before I can get the learning I need.”

Eraser Frustration

“Congratulations on your awareness,” Keith reassures me during a post-ceremony conversation. “As frustrating as it feels, you are in a very good and powerful place. If there was anything I could say to help you, I would do so … but this is an individual process … one that you must do. I have already told you everything I can tell you.”

“But I have a huge magical eraser,” I express a plea for some type of rational-mind settling. “I know I am in a very beautiful place … very close to some type of magical growth. I am just following my flow with no expectations, and am willing to go wherever that flow takes me.”

Gratitude fills my heart as Keith does take a few minutes to discuss my plight from a purely rational-mind level. I so desperately need to regain my footing and to rebuild my trust – a trust that even in my craziness, I am doing very well.

“Go home, take your notes, rest, integrate, allow, surrender, and follow whatever comes up,” Keith guides me, reminding me that my normal post-ceremony routine is very good – reminding me to simply trust my process.

Who I Want You To Be

After quickly munching down a plate of rice and beans, I lose myself in an episode of Glee, one that is deeply encouraging of “being your true self … not what others think you should be.”

Finally, at around 10:00 p.m., I return to meditation, calling on the Higher Essences of brothers, sisters, mom, dad, church leaders, teachers, and friends, etc…

“I want you to take back all of the “you are stupid, you are a loser, and why can’t you just be who I want you to be” energy,” I tell all of the gathered energies from my past.

That “why can’t you just be who I want you to be” line just blurts out of nowhere.

This is one of my favorite lines from the movie “Martian Child.” It is one of those rare movie lines that resonate so profoundly that the words are never forgotten. As I ponder this thought, I begin to quietly cry. Within seconds, I am sobbing and dry heaving, experiencing a freight train of emotion that lasts for about two minutes and then ends as quickly as it began.

“I have spent my whole life trying to be who my parents, family, and church wanted me to be,” I ponder the pain, “and I still struggle with being different from their expectations. I love myself for who I am. No one else has the right to define me or to judge me. I get to define myself.”

Inner feelings whisper that something has suddenly shifted. Only time will tell.

Dissenting Voices

As I drift off to sleep, I ponder with fascination how the mix of people on Keith’s porch has shifted so dramatically in the last two ceremonies. For weeks, it seemed as if the ceremonies were dominated by intense masculine stuckness. Today, however, the ceremony was quite large, dominated by feminine energy, with many people doing deep work. I can clearly see a pattern – one showing how every ceremony serves me greatly, no matter how it appears on the surface.

Shortly after 3:00 a.m. on Monday morning, I wake up with a very nice energy in my head … but I cannot go back to sleep. Part of me says, “Get out of bed and meditate,” but I fight that feeling. Then a weird sensation floods my awareness.

“I am upset by the light,” the knowing unfolds. “I am actually annoyed that the light is helping me. I want to feel the repressed anger, and to process the sadness, etc – and I feel cheated when the light takes that away. I don’t believe it is real.”

“Another part of me is deeply grateful for the assistance of the light,” I ponder, “but this part is suspicious, waiting for the anvil to fall … not believing that the help is real or lasting.”

“I want my apology from God,” Inner voices demand, “I want my reward for all the profound inner work I have been doing.”

Paradoxical Ponderings

“The help I am receiving from Keith is deeply inspired,” the observer in me ponders. “He is steering me in the right direction, but not doing the work for me. He frequently reminds me to trust my inner connection, and to reread a couple of my recent blogs.”

“Brenda,” Keith told me yesterday after the ceremony. “If anyone is even semi-conscious when they read those blogs, they could see what a powerful connection you have had.”

After the ceremony last night, Keith had again firmly insisted that I print out and laminate portions of “Sordid Social Secrets” and “A Subconscious Book Of Beliefs,” placing them around my apartment for frequent reading.

For more than an hour, I ponder crazy paradoxical emotions. They are feelings of enjoying the light, but at the same time resenting and not trusting the light. I want to do something proactive to move the flow along, but also clearly recognize that the flow of my process is happening through me in beautiful ways – ways far more beautiful than I could ever think up with my mind.

Finally, I fall back to sleep.

Profoundly Pissed

Shortly after 7:00 a.m., I wake up and begin to ponder the profundities of an extremely vivid and symbolic dream.

In the dream, Keith, Angela, and I are scheduled to perform a chocolate ceremony across the lake at a yoga retreat center – a beautiful place where I have often assisted Keith in the past. We are supposed to begin at 1:30 p.m. and be done by 5:30 p.m. – and, as usual, I eagerly anticipate the experience.

But to my dismay, as Angela and I travel across the lake, Keith is nowhere to be found. It seems that the two of us are supposed to do the ceremony without him … and that Angela is bringing all of the necessary supplies. Rather than question what is happening, I simply accept the added responsibility.

When Angela and I arrive at our destination, I feel dismayed by what happens next. Rather than finding ourselves at the yoga retreat center, we walk into a very large cafeteria-like, chaos-filled room. As I look around the noisy room, intuitions tell me that there are 56 people here, with about two-thirds of them being younger children.

I still feel somewhat optimistic as I recognize the difficulty of facilitating such a large group with so many children. Acting quickly, I grab a big handful of supplies out of Angela’s large, cream-colored, purse-like bag … carrying them over to a kitchen-like counter along the far wall so that I can organize them. Suddenly, as I begin to sort through the random supplies, deep confusion consumes me.

I have before me a bag of cinnamon, which, while yummy, is something we never serve in public ceremonies. Next I find a chunk of un-chopped ginger root – something we could not possibly use without a great deal of work. Frustrations then begin to flare when I find a huge bag of cayenne pepper and only one tiny little bag of panela (raw cane sugar).

“There is no way we could ever use or need that much cayenne pepper,” I ponder in deep annoyance, “and how can we possibly do a ceremony for such a large group with so little sweetener.”

But it is when I find the small one-half pound block of chocolate, not even chopped up, still in block form, that I begin to feel profoundly pissed by the lack of advance preparation.

Lost And Found

As I leave the counter and return to the cream-colored bag to see what else Angela brought, I clearly recall having seeing at least one other pound of chocolate, perhaps more. But to my shock and dismay, both the bag and Angela are now missing, and no one around me seems to be the least bit concerned, giving me no assistance whatsoever.

Finally, I begin to search the halls by myself. I now clearly see that I am in what feels like the hallways of a large high school. I search and search and search, going into this room and that, running every which way in search of the missing supplies – but I find absolutely nothing but empty rooms.

“I’m supposed to do a ceremony for 56 people with just a half pound of chocolate?” I ponder the absurdity with angry futility. “There is no way that will work. And how can I possibly facilitate such a large group by myself.”

Finally, feeling angry, abandoned, stood-up, and extremely stupid, I give up on my search and return to the big chaotic room to gather my wits.

“We found the guy that ran off with your bag,” a man apologizes as he hands me all that was left inside … a single one-pound block of now-crumbly, half-destroyed chocolate.

Refusing To Play

Consumed by frustration, I note the time on a nearby clock. It is now 4:20 p.m. as I stand here with no visible support in a crowded and chaotic room filled with active children … and I barely have enough unprepared chocolate to serve fifteen adults. I clearly recognize that it will take at least forty-five minutes to heat the water, chop up the chocolate, and to make other hurried preparations.

“This is not my fault and I will NOT to play this game,” I grumble as I angrily glance around the chaos-filled room. “I refuse to even try … I will not even facilitate a simple meditation … I give up.”

“I have been abandoned, sabotaged with inadequate supplies and no support,” the anger festers. “Even if I were to try to fulfill my mission, we could not possibly start before 5:15 p.m., and we need to be finished by 5:30 p.m..”

“I am all alone, Angela is nowhere to be seen, and I am not prepared for this mess.” I silently scream. “It is a hopeless environment where there is no chance of conducting a spiritual chocolate ceremony … nor chocolate to even do it … and no advance preparation of any type. I have been deeply let down.”

A Raw Deal

After suddenly waking up around 7:00 a.m. on Monday morning, the anger from the dream lingers for several hours, leaving me in an exhausted, frustrated, and rebellious state.

“It was a setup!” I ponder the annoying dream and how it applies to physical life. “My whole life was a setup, destined for failure. I came into a foreign environment filled with chaos. My Higher Energy companions abandoned me and left me with unprepared ingredients, having little hope of success. I am alone, rebellious, and feeling dumped-on by life.”

“On the other hand,” I ponder, “I know the dream is extremely positive, metaphorically showing me exactly how I created my life … on purpose. I intentionally chose to enter a 1955 reality – wanting to experience a cultural reality that would shut me down until it was time to begin waking up nearly five decades later.”

“There was not enough spiritual energy on the planet in 1955 – inadequate energetic supplies available to fulfill my mission – and the little magic that I brought with me to this planet was quickly stolen (shut down by culture) even before I had an opportunity to begin.”

The anger at my “Raw Deal” is enormous, yet I almost giggle as I ponder the profound way in which this dream has metaphorically modeled my actual life – a life that, in a sense, really has been a looped rope course, an unsolvable dilemma where all possible success routes were intentionally blocked. It was a crazy life designed to teach me self-love and trust.

God Drama Setup

Later, as I meditate, the metaphors from the vivid dream unfold with giggling and profound clarity.

First is the obvious idea that Keith represents God, and that he seemed to abandon me from the very beginning of my scheduled ceremony. He never even showed up, not even helping to prepare the necessary ingredients. Then he sent me into a bait-and-switch environment that was unsuitable for a chocolate ceremony (lifetime).

Second, I clearly see Angela as representing my Higher Self, Spiritual Guides, Angels, etc… They seemed to guide me into the ceremony (birth), but then quickly disappeared. I was never again able to find those higher, supportive connections – feeling all alone in the chaos.

In and of themselves, these first two insights are clearly related to the God drama that I have been exploring for a very long time.

Ingredients And Environments

Third, I giggle at the ingredients – unnecessary supplies such as cinnamon and whole ginger (tart, spicy, distracting times) – and then very inadequate supplies of needed ingredients. Conspicuously missing were enough chocolate (spiritual connection) to fulfill my mission, and raw cane sugar (sweetness, joy, hope, laughter, etc) to see me through to completion. Then there was a huge overabundance of cayenne pepper, which we only use in tiny amounts to spice the chocolate. In my life, cayenne pepper was literally sprinkled on my tongue to shut me down – to repress and punish my anger when I tried to defend myself and/or speak my truth. It seems that my life (chocolate ceremony) was supplied with plenty of opportunities for my voice (and energies) to be shut down.

Forth, the ceremony (life) environment is extremely symbolic. As it turns out, rather than being sent to a peaceful spiritual retreat center, I ended up in a noisy, crowded, chaotic school building. The school seems to be symbolic of the “school of life,” of going through the shut down process and being culturally conditioned in a cafeteria-like assembly-line way. In that cafeteria-like room where the ceremony was supposed to take place there were 56 people, two-thirds of them being children. In addition to “large numbers with chaotic energy unsuitable to a peaceful chocolate ceremony (life)” the number 56 equates to an “11” in numerology – the same number as derived from my birth name – the same number often attributed by some teachers as representing a spiritual guide. Finally, the number “two-thirds” fits my family dynamic perfectly. I was raised in a family of six, with two-thirds of us being children – and in my religious environment, that same ratio (adults to children) was quite applicable.

Perfect Timing

Eventually, with continued meditation, I suddenly realize that even the clock times surrounding the ceremony have major significance. Intuitions guide me that noon represents my birth … 1:00 p.m. is age ten … 2:00 p.m. is age 20 … 5:00 p.m. is age 50 … and so on.

To give us adequate preparation time, Angela and I would have left for the ceremony at noon – my birth at age 0. We would have arrived at around 12:30 p.m. (age 5) – after which I was completely abandoned, lost, and shut down before the planned starting time of 1:30 p.m. (age 15). Finally, after floundering in futility while searching the school of life, I eventually gave up the search at 4:20 p.m. (early forties) which is exactly when I learned that another pound of damaged and crumbled chocolate (spirituality) had been returned (the time of my transition to Brenda). With the knowing that the ceremony was supposed to be complete by 5:30 p.m. (mid fifties), I was angry, feeling hopelessly abandoned, knowing that the odds of success were now nearly impossible.

I could not have designed a more perfect dream to clearly illustrate all major aspects of my own personal God drama, right down to the very timing.

Dreaming On Different Levels

Even at midmorning, I continue to wallow in the actual emotions of this very vivid nighttime dream. I feel victimized, sad, stupid, inadequate, hopeless, helpless, and like an utter failure. Even though it only originates from a dream, I cannot let the emotion go. In fact, I feel deep anger toward Keith and Angela, feeling like I really do need an apology for how they wronged me.

“Wow!” I ponder with shock. “Even after awakening from a mere dream, the emotion of “victimization and refusal to play the game” is very real.”

Soon, I contemplate how many spiritual traditions describe physical reality as also being a dream, or an illusion – something very real while in the middle of it, but clearly just an energetic holodeck of sorts once we wake up – one in which our consciousness is a profound co-creator in unimaginable ways.

“I am just now beginning to wake up from the dream of this physical reality,” I ponder. “In this physical dimension, I too have felt deep struggles, confusion, victimization, and emotions of betrayal. I know in my head that none of that past defines me in any way – that it was all just thoughts and emotional stories. But given the depth of how dreamtime emotions still linger this morning … it is easy to see how unprocessed and unreleased God drama emotions from childhood can yet remain so strong.”

Parallel Dreams

After recognizing that the strong level of emotions will not allow me to write today … my heart guides me to a different path. In recent days, I have loved my exploration of teenage emotions while watching further episodes of the television series, Glee … so I quickly decide to continue that venture. As it turns out, I lose myself in such videos for the entire day.

After dinner, as I prepare for a very early bedtime, I can only giggle when I receive unexpected visitors calling at my door. It is Keith and Angela. They have been visiting together, and decided to stop by to touch base regarding plans for tomorrow.

I already know about a real private chocolate ceremony at the yoga retreat center across the lake tomorrow. I already know that Keith has invited me to assist. And just like in my dream, the real ceremony will begin at 1:30 p.m. and needs to be completed by 5:30 p.m..

What I do not know until now however, is that Keith has also invited Angela to join us. As we discuss plans, we talk about calling for a private boat to pick us up at noon. The only problem is that none of us has the phone numbers for the boat drivers. Within minutes I get on Facebook and send a message to a friend who is facilitating that yoga retreat – and as synchronicities always seem to flow, the desired phone numbers are in my inbox just a few minutes later.

As I soon share details of my vivid dream with my two friends, I do so in a playful, and giggling way.

“You are really fun when you are this way,” Angela complements me.

As I later prepare for bed, I grin and make faces in the mirror. That heavy, angry dreamtime emotion from this morning is long gone, having been replaced by giggling optimism. I can only hope that the hidden God drama emotion – emotion that eerily parallels that of my dream – will also follow a similar course.

Profound Parallels

As I Ponder these last two days, I almost giggle at the profound parallels between so many different realities.

I find great comfort in the way my own journey with stuckness and humiliation, as further explored yesterday, seems to parallel many aspects of Keith’s former journey into learning compassion and self-love. I can only hope that the results of my parallel journey ultimately take me to similar levels of profound energetic and intuitive sensitivity – in my own unique way, of course.

Then I love how my “looped rope course” metaphor continues to serve me greatly. It is a metaphor that came into my life during my psychology training – a metaphor that, in synchronous ways, continues to illustrate how a simple little unsolvable riddle can so profoundly parallel the frustrating dilemmas of my God drama.

What really boggles my mind, however, is how an unexpected dream can so magically parallel the whole God drama and trauma of my life. It is a dream that symbolically-but-clearly illustrates the key figures who let me down, extra and missing ingredients, places, times, and even ages – making it hard for me to deny that the dream literally is a parallel summary of my entire physical life – right down to the lingering God-drama emotions. With each passing day, it becomes increasingly difficult to deny that this stage-play-called-life is no more real than the dreamtime.

As I giggle and ponder the events of tomorrow – thinking of an actual waking-life journey to a magical yoga retreat center across the lake – I can only hope that the real-life experience with Keith and Angela is a little dramatic and more fun than the profoundly symbolic and growth-filled one modeled for me last night in my dreams.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

It is just after midday on Friday, June 15, 2012, as I stand in Keith’s kitchen, assisting in the setup for yet another magical chocolate ceremony. But I am not feeling quite so magical today. Crazy stories have been running through my head all morning. I am trying to figure out why I continue to manifest and/or create such bizarre ceremonies in recent weeks.

“Keith, could you help me understand how I can shift my energy to manifest a more fun ceremony – one in which everyone comes with a desire do inner work – one in which everyone comes to support the inner work of others?”

“Brenda,” Keith responds a minute later,” I am getting that this is all taking you deeper into letting go of rational mind and learning to trust the flow of your process. Just trust and allow exactly what is happening. Don’t try to figure it out or control it with your rational mind.”

“Thanks, that really does help,” I respond sincerely.

Even though I clearly see that every bizarre ceremony as of late has served me greatly, inner voices have been judging those crazy, stuck, distraction and disturbance-filled ceremonies as being wrong and bad. Today, I am determined to again simply trust that whatever happens will be perfect for what I need – not judging any of it.

Popcorn Popping

The ceremony begins in beautiful fashion, with eighteen souls crowding the porch. I love Keith’s introductory speeches as he gently lays down guidelines about exactly what it is that he does on his porch – lovingly reinforcing his behavioral expectations and asking people to hold space for others, etc…

I perceive that Keith too realizes that the crazy distraction, disturbance-filled ceremonies have served their purpose, at least for now.

But in the midst of listening to Keith’s discussion, while focusing on his earlier advice about simply letting go and trusting my flow, I suddenly begin to struggle. I literally feel as if I have a bowl of popcorn popping in my abdomen. A deep panic attack bubbles inside, at the edge of bursting into emotional chaos. Intuitively, I recognize that what I feel is panic about further giving up of control – further trusting the flow of Higher Energies, and less micromanaging of my environment via rational mind.

“My inner clenching is all about trying to control my energetic environment so that I will feel safe,” I ponder flowing intuitions. “And now, the inner panic I am experiencing is part of the process of releasing that need for such a safe environment – both outside and in.”

Head Games

As the initial meditation concludes, Keith opens up the porch for individual work, asking who would like some help. Immediately he glances at me with a glowing smile.

“I have popcorn popping inside and am on the edge of a panic attack,” I quickly share. “It is all about what we discussed earlier, but greatly magnified. I am exploring deeply into trust issues while trying to release my need to control, protect, and manipulate my environment to my liking … trying to let go of needing my sandbox to be a certain way.”

Without providing much guidance, Keith encourages me to continue what I am doing. I remember that before the ceremony he had suggested that I stay out of my head and just trust what happens.

“That is what I will do,” I ponder. “I will just sit here and observe the inner fears.”

As I sit with the crazy panic that rages inside, I begin to think up possible metaphors to work with those energies, perhaps in my inner conference room – but then my head jumps in with the idea that “thinking up metaphors is using my head … trying to use my mind to control, change, and manipulate energies.”

Now I am getting really confused, splitting hairs in my mind, doubting everything I thought I knew, not allowing my head to even participate in the process at all.

Building Trust

As Keith starts to work around the circle, the first two people with whom he works both comment that, just like me, they too relate deeply with the trust issue that I am exploring. I love how my inner issue is also being mirrored to me via the work of others – confirming in a powerful and synchronous way that all is exactly as it needs to be.

At an appropriate moment, as Keith glances my way to check in with me, I briefly ask for advice to clarify my confusion regarding the use of rational mind.

“I’m struggling right now,” I beg for guidance. “I’m trying to stay out of my head, but am now deeply confused as I realize that using metaphors to facilitate my process is engaging my rational mind.”

“You are taking my words to extremes,” Keith reassures me. “The rational mind IS a very useful TOOL for working with subconscious metaphors. Just remember to do so under the direction of your heart and intuitive guidance.”

I love the clarification – the fine-tuning of my understanding. The difference is so subtle. Of course, I can use rational mind as a tool – I just need to do so from within the flow of my guidance rather than trying to manipulate the flow using my mind.

In the midst of continued inner panic, I am in a space where I literally do NOT trust myself to be able to move forward by myself … yet I also recognize that no one else can do it for me.

As Keith continues to work with others, he eventually points out that the seven new people on the porch today are also working on building trust – cautiously observing things on the porch, unsure if they want to dive deeper.

Stuck In Futility

After working elsewhere on the porch for a great while, Keith eventually turns to work again with me.

“I am feeling a lot of density in my solar plexus,” I begin to share, “and it just intuitively occurred to me that what I am feeling in my solar plexus surrounding the issue of trust and panic might not even be my own emotion – that perhaps I am running the trust issues of others through me.”

“Yeah,” Keith responds, “there is a lot of trust issue today on the porch.”

“I’m getting that about two-thirds of what you are feeling IS coming from other people,” Keith soon shares after checking his own guidance.

“I want to stop doing this,” I beg for help, “but I don’t seem to be able. I know I cannot use my head, and everything I have tried so far isn’t helping at all. I am hurting and do not want to run this through me. I feel helpless and angry inside, not knowing what to do.”

“I am totally stuck,” I share my futility. “I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Good,” Keith responds.

“I realize that my head has no clue as to what to do,” I continue. “I realize that this is a good thing, but I am panicking and clueless about what to do if I do not use my head. Just sitting back, doing nothing, and trying to trust the flow is causing me to panic.”

“I am in confusion, stuck, disconnected, unable to trust that Higher Energies will help me,” I express my frustration. “I desperately need that help, but do not believe it will happen. Right now, I am unable to focus enough to even try.”

Perceived Humiliation

“This is the game you are playing with God,” Keith shares with blunt and forceful emphasis. “You are terrified to let go of this game because you absolutely know that if you do, you will lose all hope of ever being loved.”

“Keith, I know I am playing this game, and I DO want to let go of it,” I insist, trying to defend my honor against a perceived attack. “It is a subconscious part of me that is playing those games, and I am clueless as to how to get in touch with that part of me so that I can get it to stop.”

“No Brenda, YOU are playing this game,” Keith firmly responds with harsh emphasis. “The first step is that YOU have to own that YOU are playing this game.”

“A hidden part-of-me is playing the game,” I again try to defend myself. “I don’t want to play it anymore.”

Meanwhile, I am beginning to feel quite humiliated by what I perceive as Keith’s attack on my honor. I know where he is coming from, but I feel embarrassed that he is emphasizing his words so strongly, making it clear to everyone on the porch that I am refusing to let go of the games I play with God and Deity. I feel as if he is telling everyone that I am a loser – a loser that is simply not cooperating with my own healing.

“That part-of-you is much stronger than the part of you that insists you do not want to play,” Keith firmly responds, not allowing me to deny ownership of this hidden part of me. “YOU are playing this game and YOU need to own it.”

Really Mean It

“Repeat after me,” Keith then guides me. “I refuse to let go of this game because I absolutely know that if I do, I am giving up all hope of ever being loved.”

Almost immediately, I forget the words Keith asks me to repeat. I am so focused on defending my honor that I cannot think clearly.

“You want me to say that out loud?” I ask a minute later.

“Yes,” Brenda, Keith responds with a stern voice while the rest of the porch stares on.

“Can you repeat the words for me?” I beg for help from my state of resistant confusion. “I cannot remember exactly what you asked me to say.”

When Keith simply frowns at me, not enabling me by repeating his earlier words, I finally try to speak what I think he said.

“I refuse to let go of this game because I absolutely know that if I do, I am giving up all hope of ever being loved,” I speak matter-of-factly in a calm voice, not feeling the meaning of what I say.

“Brenda, say it like you mean it,” Keith prods me to go deeper. “Really feel it.”

Owning The Anger

“Keith, I am so stuck and helpless right now,” I beg for compassion. “It is like I just used my magic eraser to wipe out everything I know about my connection to the light. Right now, I feel like I am begging my mother to write a school paper for me. In this confused state, I absolutely know that I cannot do this myself … that I will fail … that there is no point in trying … that someone has to help me do it.”

Finally, I try to comply with Keith’s strong guidance, attempting to speak the words out loud as if I really believe and mean them. Embarrassment and humiliation will not allow me to do it loudly, but I do repeatedly begin to whisper the words – each time doing so with increasingly deeper feeling.

Soon, I bend forward and begin punching a small cushion. Keith quickly piles several other cushions around me. Seconds later, I am engulfed in deep tears and sobs as waves of dry heaving consume me. Repeatedly, I have to stop … grabbing more tissues, clearing my nose, and coming up for air so I can breathe.

Over and over I quietly repeat the words – quietly feeling them to the core. Soon, intense anger begins to surface. It is anger at God … anger that feels like the intense betrayal energy that has occasionally surfaced in my life. As I continue repeating those frightening words of admitting the game I play with God, I increasingly begin to own that the emotion behind those words is extremely real and deep.

Saying these words repeatedly is triggering me deeply. There is a huge reservoir of anger buried somewhere down inside me. I am extremely hesitant to permit this anger to explode.

Understanding, Support, And Encouragement

Soon, I take comfort in the fact that Keith lovingly encourages everyone in the group to gather and hold energetic space for me. For most of the next hour, the group sits in almost complete silence, supporting my process as I go through wave after wave of deep emotional release.

But try as I might, I cannot seem to go as deeply as intuitions tell me that I need to go.

I feel really stupid that everyone on the porch is watching me in this deep pain and stuckness. But I ignore my humiliation, and instead derive great confidence at pondering words that Keith has shared with the group several times during this intense process.

“In three or four years many of you will find yourselves remembering this day and what Brenda is doing today,” Keith had shared with the group. “It is only then that you will understand how profoundly frightening it is when you begin going into a core issue.”

Keith uses the opportunity to talk more about core issues and God drama stuff – deeply validating that what I am doing is profound and advanced inner work. Each time Keith says something like this, I find inner permission to go a little deeper – to surrender to more humiliation, trusting that what I am doing is powerful, and that as long as Keith understands, supports, and encourages what I am doing, that is all that matters. I do not care what anyone else might think.

Something Magical

Still, I find myself resisting and floundering in helplessness. My rational mind is clueless. I do not know what I am doing. I am simply allowing myself to feel the pain as deeply as I can go while at the same time trying to remember that I am the observer as I engage in this emotional release work.

Finally, intuitions tell me I have gone as far as I can go. I surrender to the knowing that I need help … that I cannot heal my God drama by myself.

Soon, intuitions guide me to utilize a metaphor that Keith commonly shares. I imagine myself standing at the bottom of a five-meter wall of glass. As I stare up at this restrictive wall that ominously blocks my forward path, I clearly know that rational mind has no clue as to how to move beyond this blockage. This obstacle was intentionally placed here in my path to force me to surrender and rely on Higher Energies – to make it impossible to solve the unsolvable riddle using rational mind.

“Higher Energies,” I meditatively surrender and ask for assistance. “I need your help. I have reached a place in my journey where I know that the only way to move forward is to trust you … to trust the light.”

Soon, I sink deeper and deeper into meditation, imagining myself as breathing in light and breathing out density. The more I attempt to surrender and trust, the more I feel inner resistance, fighting me, demanding that I need to do this myself.

The more I meditate, the lighter I feel. I recognize that something magical is happening. With each in-breath I experience deep peace. With each out-breath, my abdomen shakes with fear as I release more density. Eventually, I gradually begin to sit up – feeling ever more relaxed – experiencing a state of shock while continuing to focus on the light.

As I finally return to an upright position, I occasionally reenter a small wave of emotional release, but mostly manage to remain in the peace.

Inner Drama, External Faces

Suddenly, another powerful wave of understanding rushes into my awareness. I begin to imagine all of the people in my life who I perceive as having betrayed me in one way or another. As I put these external faces on my inner God drama, one-by-one imagining each person as being the God at whom I am angry, my inner resistance to God and Higher Energies develops profound clarity.

I experience an intense inner refusal – refusal coming from an angry and deeply hidden place –refusal that demands that I cannot allow myself to release my reservoirs of anger toward these people until certain conditions are first met.

This part of me insists that I must not and will not ever allow these evil people to share unconditional love with me, or to be a part of my life, until they first acknowledge and admit what they painfully did to me. It will not happen until they justify and validate my anger toward them. It will not happen until they admit their guilt and apologize for how they have maliciously attacked and victimized me.

“Only after I receive a genuine and heartfelt apology from Paul, making up for how he has repeatedly attacked me on the porch, and how he has gossiped all over town about me, could I ever allow him into my inner circle,” I ponder.

“Until Shannon (not real name) acknowledges how she hurt me, convincing me of her genuine sincerity, I could never again associate with her at other than a shallow surface level,” I ponder another friend who hurt me deeply about seven years ago.

“In fact,” I continue pondering with deep insight, “before I can ever again be friends and trust any of the people on this list of those who have triggered my betrayal energy, I would first have to go through a deep trust-rebuilding process. This is what I have had to do with Keith, numerous times, whenever I have had my God drama painfully projected onto him.”

“I GET IT,” flashes of insight flood me with clarity. “These are the exact same hurt and angry emotions that I carry toward God and Higher Energies. I have been projecting these inner emotions onto others.”

At some buried level as a child, I felt so deeply hurt and betrayed by God that I absolutely refuse to allow or have anything to do with Higher Energies until I feel validated and sincerely apologized to. If that trust is not reestablished … if I do not feel understood and acknowledged by God … if I do not receive validation and apology for my perceived victimization … then this powerful part of me WILL NOT allow Higher Energies to help me.

“I DO NOT TRUST Higher Energies,” I ponder with deep insight. And I will never do so until I give up the inner game I play, insisting that Higher Energies must first apologize for my perceived abandonment and betrayal as a child.”

“Wow,” I almost giggle inside. “This is intense experiential understanding. I love it.”

External Reenactments Of Inner Pain

A few minutes later, I have an opportunity to discuss my insights with Keith.

“We all play our God drama issues out with others in our life,” Keith validates my new understanding. “It is a way of developing understanding about the games we play with God.”

I am now profoundly clear that all of these perceived betrayal incidents in my life have been nothing more than reenactments of my God drama, carefully orchestrated as trauma/ drama in my life to help me to understand, today, in this very instant, why I am so angry and refusing to allow God and Higher Energies to reconnect with me.

Ultimately, I know that God is inside of me – that Higher Energies surround me, just waiting for me to allow them in – that no such betrayal ever took place.

“But that little child in me did feel deeply betrayed,” I ponder. “Those betrayal energies are profoundly locked into place, and I am playing them out in ways that I finally understand at a deep experiential level.”

“I am not sure if I have gone deep enough yet,” I soon express to Keith. “I have the feeling that there is more intense and buried pain hidden much deeper than I have yet been able to go. But I will go wherever I need to go, following the flow as it takes me. For now, I am just focusing on bringing in more light.”

And right now, I am basking in the peaceful glow of that light.

Powerful Stuff

Suddenly, the porch dissolves into noisy conversation as several people begin to leave.

“Why am I creating this?” I ponder with curiosity.

I soon see the events as a stage play, giving me a choice as to whether I will surrender my power, or go deeper inside, further connecting to my Higher Energies. I choose to go inside and connect – giggling as I ignore the events around me – feeling quite grateful for the real-life actors giving me this opportunity to learn and grow.

“Congratulations on beautiful work today,” Keith shares with deep sincerity as others begin to put cushions away.

“Can you add any more words of clarity to that feedback?” I beg for more definitive comments.

“You know the powerful stuff you did today,” Keith smiles back, saying no more.

A Long-Term Setup

“I had a feeling today that this God drama betrayal began as an infant,” I soon share an insight with Keith.

“That is quite possible,” Keith responds. “In fact, you have probably been setting up this betrayal energy for multiple lifetimes.”

“Would it help to do a past-life regression to one of those lifetimes?” I ask with deep curiosity after hearing Keith’s unexpected words.

“I’m getting that it may help in the future, but not now,” Keith reassures me. “Right now you need to work on the betrayal issue in this lifetime, working with your inner children, etc…”

An Empath Experience

When the porch is mostly empty, I grab the hand of a dear friend, and we have a beautiful clearing conversation. I have felt some tension between us lately, and desperately desire to preserve the precious friendship. I am determined not to allow petty betrayal feelings to sabotage me any more. We sit on the porch for more than an hour, during which my friend begins to go into nonstop stories intended to help me understand her own life of struggles.

This dear friend adamantly insists that these are all healed issues … that she no longer has any attachment to any of them … that she feels no emotion, and is only sharing experiences to help me understand her life.

But as she talks, I sense deep emotional intensity and begin to feel a great number of pains in my abdomen. Immediately, I focus on intending that the emotions NOT run through me … that I NOT eat them.

With deep focus and concentration, I manage to stay ahead of the density in my abdomen. I clearly have the intuitive guidance that I am helping her, but that she does not know it. She is not even the slightest bit aware of the emotion I am receiving from her.

“This is exactly what I did with countless friends in the past,” I ponder. “When I would listen to them share stories, I unconsciously took in their densities, leaving them feeling much better. Today, it is hard and difficult, requiring constant focus, but I am doing so consciously.”

Near the end of our long conversation, I casually mention what I have been experiencing. I giggle inside when my friend denies the presence of any emotion at all … when she expresses that I am mistaken and insists that no emotional densities have been leaving from her.

“It must be your own density, or perhaps the density from someone else,” she suggests.

As I walk home, I realize that it does not matter whose density it was. Regardless, the experience was quite powerful for me, showing me how I have done the same thing throughout my life, especially with many who have eventually triggered my betrayal energy.

Stuck Between Worlds

As has been a frequent pattern lately, I wake up Saturday morning with emotions of stuckness, resistance, and rebellion.

After wasting some time on the internet, and playing a few mind-numbing computer games, I am suddenly overwhelmed by an intense flow of emotion. Without having a clue as to the nature or origin of this emotion, I retire to my bedroom and allow the raging flow to release through buckets of brief tears. Suddenly, about ten minutes later, the intensity of the mystery-emotion diminishes – but continues to flow mildly in a way that does not allow me to focus on anything, especially on writing.

I am eagerly looking forward to participating in a group Skype ceremony with five young friends back in Utah. I conducted a chocolate ceremony with four of these magical young men last summer when I was building my confidence during a three-month trip to the United States.

As I walk out to Keith’s home, I feel a great deal of energy flowing in my body. The energy in and of itself feels powerful and important, but an overwhelming confusion accompanies the energy, leaving me somewhat struggling.

“I feel as if I am on a tiny narrow ledge,” I explain to Keith when he asks how I am doing. “I am hanging on to the edge of a cliff, contemplating whether I trust myself to climb higher, but feeling unbalanced and unstable, fearing that I will fall off if I try to climb.”

“I am stuck between two worlds,” I add, “not yet trusting the new, but unable to go back.”

Simultaneous Power And Fear

Keith and I have no time to talk before jumping directly into the Skype session. Even with my present state, I do feel a great deal of Higher Energy flowing through me, and I am confident that I will be able to hold a powerful energetic space for others. That is exactly what I do.

In a paradox of feelings, I simultaneously experience deep strength and intense fear. While holding space, I breathe energy into my heart and imagine it reaching out, extending all the way to my friend’s living room in Utah. One young man in the ceremony later tells me that he actually felt my presence in the room at one point, early on.

That intense fear escalates to panic and anxiety in the center of my heart as I again step up the Higher Energy that flows through me. In my mind, I imagine myself stepping barefoot into a huge electrical socket that is currently disconnected from Source power. Then I imagine the power being turned on with a dimmer switch, getting stronger and stronger. With each imagined power increase, the level of real fear increases considerably.

Nevertheless, I maintain a powerful heart, holding quiet energetic space while engaging in this deep inner journey.

“Ever since the ceremony yesterday, I have felt unwillingness and refusal to meditate for myself,” I begin to ponder the rebellious mood that greeted me when I woke up this morning. “But right now, I am quite willing and eager to meditate for the purpose of holding powerful space for my friends …and it is immensely benefiting me in the process … Wow!”

Abandoned yet Again

At one point, Keith needs a short break to interact with his construction workers down in the garden. As I take the opportunity to quickly converse with my new friends, one young man reminds me of how I helped him last summer.

“It deeply touched me when you discussed your intense journey with masculine and feminine energies during our ceremony together,” the young man shares his heart.

When Keith returns from the garden, this same young man asks Keith to guide him deeper into his own masculine and feminine energy issues. I decide to follow along with this guided experience, doing so in my own unique way.

Imagining myself in my inner conference room, I sit on one end of a small table, with my feminine self on the left side, my masculine self on the right, and my Higher Self joining us on the far side of the table.

As Keith guides this young man to have his Higher Self share energy with his own little inner child, intuitions whisk me away in an unexpected direction.

“I do not believe that Higher Self or any other Higher Energies are going to help me when I need them most.” I ponder the intense feelings that suddenly surface out of nowhere. “Instead, they will tease me and give me tantalizing glimpses, but when it comes down to the wire, they will not be there for me.”

“AND I am projecting this same belief onto Keith as an intense version of my God drama,” I ponder with shock. “I know he is helping me tremendously, but part of me believes that he is not going to help me in my deepest hour of need … that he will abandon me and make me do it all myself … and I will fail … yet again.”

A Blatant Lie

“I DO know that the Higher Energies are helping me and will increasingly do so as I allow more such assistance,” I ponder with countering clarity.

“I AM receiving that assistance NOW,” I refute this inner voice. “It is a blatant lie that I do not and will never receive the help I need.”

As I engage in this inner exploration and debate, deep emotion swells in my heart. Not wanting to disturb the Skype session, I do not make any audible sounds, but when the tears begin to stream with considerable intensity, I quickly grab a roll of tissue to muffle the flow.

For much of the remainder of the ceremony, this emotion silently rages. I continue to hold space, but do so from a place of deep emotion and flowing tears. When Keith encourages the young man to bring in more trust, I attempt to do the same, but the trust is waning.

A Flash Of Insight

Later, as Keith starts an empath training with this small group of young men, he explains that those of us who are empaths had no opportunity for training in a positive polarity. When we were children, we unknowingly connected to our parents, and their emotional stuff just came pouring out of them and right into us.

“If you tried to talk to your parents about what was happening and what you were feeling,” Keith explains, “you got in trouble, being made wrong, and slammed for talking about things that could not possibly be true in their reality.”

Suddenly, listening to this discussion, I have a profound flash of insight.

“This was the start of my betrayal energy … of feeling betrayed by my mother and by God,” I ponder with deep clarity. “As a tiny child, I needed to feel loved and safe, but when I took in the emotional pain of my mother and others … it was agonizingly painful, and I cried a lot. When I tried to explain and defend myself for the crying, I was punished, feeling invalidated and deeply betrayed by those who should have been there to help me and love me unconditionally.”

“I felt deeply betrayed by my mother, and I massively projected that betrayal onto God and Higher Energies at the same time,” I continue to ponder. “My mother was indeed the first person who triggered that betrayal energy in this lifetime. No wonder I resisted her so much when I was a child.”

These deepening insights cause my silent tears to turn into silent sobs. Wow, the emotion hurts, causing bigger piles of tissue to grow on the floor beside me.

Gratitude And Tears

I feel a deep connection to the beautiful young men on the other end of the Skype connection. They are amazing souls. I can feel their magic from thousands of miles away. Toward the end of the ceremony, as we are just chatting, I feel much lighter … almost giggling.

“Thank you everyone for including me in the ceremony,” I express gratitude to my friends. “I have been on quite the journey today, but the session has really lightened me up. I am so grateful for being able to participate.”

“It was your energy and your powerful magical connection abilities that helped Brenda today,” Keith quickly adds his own feedback to the young men. “You helped her in ways that I and others on the porch her in San Marcos have not been able to do.”

“Wow,” I ponder with a giggle, “the only thing I know for sure is that I deeply reached out with my energy and love, and came away more healed and whole.”

“You get so many magical people coming through your porch,” One young friend addresses Keith. “It must be amazing.”

“We do have some very stuck people come through too,” Keith comments after acknowledging the daily magic that occurs here.

“Like Brenda,” I immediately interject. “I have been soooo stuck in my process.”

“And then we have some incredibly magical people like Brenda come through,” Keith quickly adds. “I am so grateful to have her here.”

My heart warms with love and joy as I immediately sink back into tears – this time into tears of deep gratitude for the words that Keith just shared with the others.

“I cannot talk,” I mumble through the tears while trying to say something to my friends back home. “I am deeply honored, gifted, and touched by your support and loving acknowledgment.”

Childhood Parallels

“How are you doing, Brenda?” Keith queries after the session is over.

After quickly describing my emotional journey to Keith, I take the opportunity to seek feedback on other issues. First, I explain to Keith what I experienced last night during my hour-long conversation with my friend – the one after the ceremony where I felt her emotional density flowing through me – an experience that she flat-out denied.

“First of all,” I beg Keith, “I would like feedback on whether my perceptions were accurate. The whole experience reminded me of what I used to unknowingly do in all of my friendships.”

“I’m getting that twenty percent of what you felt was your empathy for her situation,” Keith responds after checking with his own guidance. “But you are right, about eighty percent of what you felt last night was actually her emotion, unbeknownst to her, flowing into and through you.”

“Wow, that is just like when I was a child doing the same thing with my mother,” I express with excited clarity. “The density came out of her, without her even needing to know. Then, when I tried to talk about it, my perceptions were denied. As a child, I was made deeply wrong and punished for doing this, causing me to feel profoundly betrayed.”

“You are doing really well,” Keith congratulates me as I hurry away from his porch. He has someone else waiting for a private session, and I am eager to get home, to take some notes, and to reward my inner children with a burger and fries at a local restaurant.

A Theme Of Betrayal

As I rest on Saturday evening, a beautiful feeling of lightness, hopefulness, happiness, and peace resonate through my soul.

Wow, what a beautiful-but-intense two days these have been. After exploring deep issues of trust – issues triggered by questions regarding why I would manifest such bizarre ceremonies – issues triggering deep popcorn-popping anxiety – the unfolding breadcrumbs of those trust issues have taken me on a profound journey of self-discovery and healing.

Soon, I landed at the crux of the matter – the real issue of how I just plain do not trust God and Higher Energies to help me when the going gets tough. I felt abandoned as a child, and part of me still believes that when it comes down to the wire, that I will always be abandoned.

With Keith’s blunt “watching my back” honesty, and his insistence that it is time to quit beating around the bush and to actually OWN the game I am playing with God, the journey gets real … and deeply painful.

I am blown away by the beautiful insights that synchronously follow – insights into how my lifelong patterns of feeling betrayed actually stem from a childhood feeling of betrayal. That betrayal originated because I was an empath, unknowingly consuming the pain of my parents, being made-wrong and punished for expressing the resulting pain. That same betrayal energy was angrily-but-stealthily projected onto Deity, and later projected onto anyone else who hurt me deeply.

I am profoundly grateful for the beautiful journey of “knowing myself” that continues to flow through me. I never cease to be amazed by the synchronous, step-by-step understanding that faithfully guides my healing. As love and light radiate in my heart, I eagerly anticipate the next step.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

I am in the back seat of a car, somewhere on a mountain road. My dear friend Isaias is driving, but he needs to stop the car for a moment to run a quick errand. As he rushes away from the car (which is still idling in the middle of the highway), Isaias first asks a man in the front passenger seat to park the car and wait for him. Before I know what is happening, that man reaches over, grabs the steering wheel, and backs the car down the busy highway, doing so at high velocity. I repeatedly ask the man to please pull over and stop, insisting that we are supposed to wait for Isaias – but he continues backing down the mountain against the flow of traffic. When we finally reach the bottom, I suddenly wake up, somewhat confused, frustrated, and annoyed. As I realize that I have been dreaming, I note that it is 4:05 a.m. on Wednesday morning, June 13, 2012.

“Wow, that was a crazy-making, nonsensical dream,” I ponder as I go back to sleep.

Suddenly, I find myself working with an old friend who is a licensed mental health counselor. We are preparing to guide a healing workshop together. For what feels like hours, I repeatedly reshuffle seating arrangements, but the workshop never starts. As people and chairs are moving from this place to that, shuffled from one room to another, I am disoriented and frustrated that my friend does not take charge. Again, I wake up, quite confused and annoyed. It is now 7:30 a.m. on that same weird Wednesday morning.

It seems that the Universe is giving me a message about the crazy-making and out-of-control feelings that have consistently dominated my life.

Know Rather Than Believe

After a beautiful conversation with my roommate, I sit down in an attempt to meditate – to figure out what is going in with these dreams. But inner emotions suddenly surface – emotions of anger and rejection at God.

“I don’t want to meditate,” the self-sabotaging voices rage. “I know from experience that I will just fail and feel more rejected and abandoned by God. This is the story of my life … I give it my all … I struggle to do what is right … but Higher Energies always abandon me in the end. I would rather not try to meditate than feel abandoned yet again.”

I am quite surprised that these two strange dreams seem to have triggered additional God drama emotions.

Later Wednesday morning, I do find the centeredness to at least do a little reading in “Oneness” by Rasha. I love chapter twenty-three. I could quote many sections from those pages, but one jumps out as particularly applicable to my age-twelve social suicide struggles. It is the first paragraph of page 220, and reads as follows:

“When one is working with information that constitutes major shifts in one’s life perspective, it is to be expected that repeated episodes on that theme will manifest as experience. In this way one is able to build a base upon which a radical shift in one’s world-view can rest. These are not understandings that can be instilled overnight. One can anticipate being exposed to a concept and to then experience several examples of that concept in rapid succession. In this way, the conceptual understandings of the world at whose edge you now stand can be reinforced. And ultimately, one is able to ‘know’ rather than to ‘believe’.”

I clearly recognize that this is exactly what is happening to me with regards to past emotional realities flowing through me, and with re-experiencing the nightmare emotions from my youth. I am building, through successive examples, a deep ‘knowing’ as to how such a process works – a knowing that cannot be achieved through reading a book.

Learning To Read

As the Wednesday afternoon chocolate ceremony gets underway, I cannot help but notice that of the eleven present in the circle today, eight of them are men. Again, a very masculine, stuck, not-interested-in-processing energy is dominant. Deep curiosity causes me to wonder why I continue to manifest such ceremonies.

As the “Glow Meditation” begins, I find a gentle and loving smile while feeling quite connected to Higher Energies – at least as much as I am currently capable of doing. After a while, I begin to feel strong pains in my solar plexus.

“My heart is strong right now,” I remind myself as I check in with body awareness. “This tells me that the pain I am feeling in my solar plexus is not MY pain … that I am reading the emotions of others.”

A few minutes later, Keith glances my way. I hold a hand on my painful solar plexus while pointing at someone else.

“I’m reading these pains from them, aren’t I?” I whisper to Keith, not wanting to disturb the meditation.

“You are reading it from somewhere in the group,” Keith confirms without singling out one source.

Sweetness Of Life

As I sit in continued meditation, I note that a very persistent honeybee repeatedly attempts to fly through the cheesecloth blocking Keith’s entryway. I watch with keen interest and deep fascination as the bee relentlessly persists.

After a while, the bee lands on my blanket. As I put my hand next to the little messenger, the bee climbs up on my finger, and then crawls around while checking me out for about five minutes. After the bee eventually flies away, he soon returns, again landing on my blanket. To my delight, when I place my right index finger near the little guy, he once again climbs up to explore my presence.

I giggle when the bee repeats this scenario a third time, again taking an adventurous ride on my finger. This time I quietly tap Keith, showing him the bee on my finger. He briefly interrupts the ongoing meditation to comment.

“The bee is telling you that you are beginning to return to the sweetness of your life,” Keith shares guidance.

“If it does not come back again,” Keith adds when the bee soon flies away, “you will know that what I said is the message that you needed.”

Keith and I briefly discuss how bees have been a repeated metaphor in my journey, beginning with a powerful dream in April 2009, then seeing a swarm in Belize after visiting my first (and only) cacao orchard in March, 2010. But perhaps the most amazing experience was having an entire swarm take up residence in my bedroom window in November, 2010. Just this past week, several times per day, a single bee has repeatedly entered my kitchen, gravitating to my honey bottle, determinedly climbing all over that clean and sealed jar … refusing to leave for hours at a time.

I only giggle during this conversation as the bee again starts to fly back onto the porch, but it suddenly turns around, flies away, and never comes back for the remainder of the day. I love my little “sweetness” messenger.

A Teacher Perspective

Soon, as the “Glow Meditation” resumes, I focus on following other metaphorical breadcrumbs of my process – feeling quite proud of myself for exploring the pains in my solar plexus. Eventually, convinced that I am still not just reading, but instead eating this painful density, I find an appropriate moment to speak.

“I’m still running this density through me, aren’t I?” I whisper to Keith during a pause in the meditation.

“Yes, you are still running a little bit of it through you,” Keith quietly responds a minute later after checking his own guidance. “Go inside and find out why.”

Initially, I judge this occurrence – my continued bringing of other people’s density into me – as a bad thing. I focus on figuring out what I am doing wrong, on trying to fix myself, and on attempting to coax that metaphorical “assemblage point” to go back outside me to where it belongs so that this density will not flow painfully through me.

After a confusing period of seeming to fail in my quest, I latch onto a statement Keith makes as he continues to guide the “Glow Meditation” – a statement about “when you feel a physical metaphor happening inside, don’t try to fix what is happening, but instead see it as your teacher and ask the light to show you what you need to learn.”

Immediately, I shift energies, seeing this pain as a metaphor for something I still need to learn – as something trying to help me grow. Without saying a word, I follow guidance and quickly step into Keith’s kitchen to retrieve that large quartz “teacher” crystal. I would love a little inner guidance from a different realm.

Love Equals Garbage

“I still have love hooked together as being equivalent to eating people’s emotional garbage,” intuitions soon flood my mind. “I need to explore the reason why I still have this hooked.”

Soon, I venture deeper into subconscious metaphors. I am determined to find the reason why I still have these concepts hooked together. As I venture into the metaphors, I access more self-love – finding love and gratitude for my journey – eager to learn the lessons that await me.

“Give what you are feeling to the crystal,” Keith interrupts the meditation he is still guiding.

“That is what I am trying to do,” I explain my ongoing journey to Keith. “I am focusing on loving what I am doing while releasing the beliefs and energies that continue to cause me to run these emotional densities through me.”

When Keith finally finishes the opening meditation, he asks who would like assistance.

“I still have love hooked with eating more emotional garbage,” I respond a minute later.

“Take a trip down into the subconscious,” Keith guides me. “Find the doorway with a sign that reads “Love Equals Garbage” and go inside. See what you find and then work with that.”

Part of me hopes that Keith will guide me there, that he will interact with me step by step, but I realize that I already know how to do it all by myself. His instructions tell me that he wants me to make this journey solo … trusting myself. I resist, because I was hoping for more personal assistance.

“OK, I’ll do it,” I soon respond, “and if I get stuck somewhere I will ask for more guidance.”

Powerful Pervasive Distractions

The very moment that I close my eyes to imagine myself walking down a staircase – even before I get to the first step – a man on the porch asks a very distracting and irrelevant question. Within seconds, the rest of the porch launches into talking and loud storytelling. The whole porch is deeply distracting and I find it impossible to focus on my own process. I continue to struggle with even taking my first step down that inner staircase.

Even Keith joins in to what I perceive as a noisy, off topic, distracting disturbance.

“I wonder why I am creating this massively distracting environment,” I ponder quietly, choosing to perceive what is happening as my personal holodeck.

Finally, after sitting in this strange situation for a while, I glance at Keith and begin to share my puzzled confusion.

“I know this is my creation,” I express inner truth, “but I am so distracted that I still cannot get to the first step.”

“Keep working on it,” Keith encourages me, not offering any solution or guidance.

After hearing my words, the man who initially started this massive distraction immediately apologizes, but then another man distracts in a huge way with surface-level storytelling. Keith again feeds into the shallow party-like atmosphere.

“A very powerful part of MY energy is creating this scenario in a very skillful and profound way,” I start to ponder with deep clarity. “This part of me is massively powerful because this distraction is so pervasive and obvious, coming from nearly everyone in the group, including Keith.”

A Loyal Servant

“Why would I be creating such intense distraction energy?” I ponder. “Distraction has always been a huge issue for me. This is showing me something.”

Finally, still being unable to move beyond the first step of the staircase in my subconscious meditation, I begin to follow what are now quite obvious breadcrumbs – shifting my focus to one of working directly with the distraction energy.

First, I visualize myself in my inner conference room. Then I invite the distraction energy to join me, across the table. Rather than attempting to put a face on the energy, I see it as a faceless orb.

“This distraction energy works for me,” I soon understand with clarity. “Distraction is a loyal member of my resistance team, serving me by fulfilling a job that kept me alive as a teenager. It kept me so distracted from my emotional pain that I did not have time to suffer as deeply from the anguish and self-hatred – doing so just enough that I would not kill myself.”

As I explore deeper, I also recognize that this same distraction kept me separate from the Higher Energies. Every time that I tried to connect with God, the distraction would keep me from going there. This is because, at a subconscious level, I have God, Higher Energies, and true unconditional love hooked with pain and eating emotional garbage from others. The distraction energy protected me from creating and consuming even more pain – doing so by shutting down loving energy connections that would have only fueled the painful fire.

From Resistance To Survival

“I wonder how this distraction orb fits into that group of resistance orbs that I worked with last night,” I explore the breadcrumbs further.

“This distraction orb is the chief, the leader, the powerful ‘mob boss’ of all the other resistance orbs that served to keep me alive,” I continue to follow unfolding intuitions. “As a group, those resistance energies literally were in charge of keeping me alive and in a shut-down state. They were in charge of my physical survival on this planet, and that distraction energy was the ‘mob boss’ of them all.”

I suddenly see these energies as needing my love and gratitude for how they have served me. Immediately I focus on reconnecting with the love and peace from last night’s meditation during my private session with Keith.

“And these are not resistance energies,” I ponder another insight. “They are survival energies, trying to keep me alive.”

Soon, In the midst of continued, loud, ongoing external distraction, I have found a place of deep meditative peace in seeing these distraction and other energies with deep gratitude.

Survival Team Leader

After a long meditation – one in which I find deep awe for how I manifest such crazy distractions – Keith looks my way and begins to work with me again.

After filling him in on my awe-filled journey and sharing insights about this distraction energy being the “mob boss” of the other survival energies – energies like confusion, projection, judgment, clenching, etc. – Keith interrupts me.

“‘Mob boss’ has a negative connotation,” Keith coaches me. “It implies that those energies are evil and bad … and that you are trying to attack and fix them from a perspective of seeing them as your enemy.”

“No,” I defend myself, “that is not at all what I am feeling as I use that term. I am finding love and gratitude for these energies, seeing them as having kept me alive, as being in charge of my survival.”

“I am responsible for watching your back,” Keith firmly retorts, “and that is what I am doing by pointing out the subtle energy of the term ‘mob boss’.”

“If people don’t share their process,” Keith adds, “then I cannot point out where they are scamming themselves.”

I clearly perceive that while Keith’s last words were spoken to me – and done so with truth – that he really intended for them to be heard by another person on the porch who is in deep silent self-scamming.

“Thank you for watching my back,” I soon respond. “Wow, the subtleness is quite profound, and I now see what you mean.”

“How about you see those energies as your ‘survival team’,” Keith then suggests, “and see this distraction energy as the leader of your survival team.”

“I like that,” I giggle, “I will play with that for a while.”

Distractions To The End

After continuing my silent meditation in a long quest – a journey that continues to be dominated by the loud, laughing distractions of others, I engage Keith in what turns out to be a winding-down conversation.

“I have been working with Higher Self to give this distraction energy a new job description,” I update Keith on my process. “Rather than calling it my “survival team,” I am asking that this energy’s job description be updated to leader of my “thriving team.” That sounds like so much more fun.”

As I begin sharing further details of my journey with Keith, the rest of the porch goes wild with even louder distraction and conversation. I discuss openly with Keith regarding how I created this distraction today to take me on this journey.

One man who is listening in actually interrupts with boasting about how proud he is for being a part of my distraction. I sense huge ego on his part.

“One of my biggest reasons for distraction and defense in my life was the profound trigger I have with big egos,” I whisper to Keith when that man is not listening.

“I am thrilled that I can now say this from a state of perception with no judgment,” I quietly share with Keith. “Such huge out-of-control egos used to drive me insane. Today, I am quite happy with myself for not judging this.”

Lesson Learned

At shortly after 4:00 p.m. – ending one of the shortest chocolate ceremonies in which I have ever participated – Keith does something quite unusual, standing up on the still noisy and distracted porch and announcing that he is going into his kitchen to get ready for tonight.

I clearly know that I have already completed the processing I needed to do today – and I perceive that Keith recognizes what I perceive as truth – that no one else on the porch is the slightest bit interested in doing any inner work at all. Keith has better things to do with his time.

“Wow, what an interesting ceremony,” I tell Keith as I follow him into his kitchen to give him a quick thank you hug. “I’ll see you tonight for chocolate bagging.”

As I walk home, I cannot stop smiling at the bizarre one-of-a-kind experience. I see the ceremony today as a beautiful creation to give me another profound message about my healing journey – about my own journey with distraction energy. I am quite proud of myself for having learned the lesson without trying to analyze it with rational mind. Today, I trusted my flow, trusting that what happened was my creation, not needing to judge what took place as bad or wrong in any way.

“Brenda,” Keith had quietly shared with me just before going into his kitchen. “What you are doing is teaching you how not to judge others when they go into such distraction energies themselves.”

Lesson Missed

Shortly before 6:30 p.m., ten of us are rapidly bagging, weighing, and sealing one-pound bags of chocolate, doing so in assembly line format. We are working quite rapidly, zooming along in near-record speed as we finish bagging the first four of six fifty-pound buckets of freshly ground still-barely-liquid chocolate.

But suddenly, four of the volunteer workers get distracted and stop working, deciding instead to take a smoke break before sitting on the garden steps for the remainder of the evening, simply visiting with each other, acting quite proud of themselves for not working.

Because forty percent of our assembly line is now missing, the remaining six of us are working very slowly at handicapped speeds. Only two people remain spooning chocolate into the bags, and they are doing so at a snail’s pace.

The whole scenario frustrates me deeply. I am anxious to go home. I am exhausted and want to go to bed, but now, because of these “slackers” I will need to remain working for an extra hour. What frustrates me even more, however, is that no one else seems to care, not even the other workers who are forced to pick up the extra load. To me, this is a huge and annoying issue, triggering me deeply.

I sit in this annoyed energy for the remainder of what is now a long evening, struggling to maintain a non-judgmental and calm composure. I am not enjoying myself … not at all.

It is only in retrospect, as I write about this experience, that I clearly see what happened. During the ceremony, in an environment where I am now quite accustomed to seeing things as my reality creation, I easily weathered an entire ceremony of inconsiderate distracting energies from others, doing so with huge inner peace and personal insight-filled growth.

But, just hours later, in a different environment, I completely missed the fact that this too was my creation – and that this entire chocolate bagging experience was also filled with intense distraction energy. I think I missed the lesson entirely. I was not quite so adept in “not judging others when they go into their own distraction energy.”

A Different Light

On a positive note, I had felt deeply complimented earlier in the evening when Paul had actually commented, congratulating me several times for my fun and playfulness. I was indeed in a state of playful joy when we first began bagging the chocolate. It was only when I lost myself in “judging others for their distractions” that I gave away my power and lost touch with that joy.

I am so annoyed as we finish our work for the night, that I am the first to leave, choosing to walk alone in the dark rather than face fears of being social with those who have pushed my buttons so deeply.

“Congratulations on the work you did today,” Keith calls out to me as I disappear down his garden steps.

Even in my state of deeply confused frustration, I love the feedback. I know that I did do great work today – profound work might be more accurate. I took an extremely difficult situation and found the treasure hidden underneath. I used the massive distractions to access ever deepening healing insights regarding one of the more powerful childhood energies that, in a strange twist of understanding, actually kept me safe.

During the ceremony, I was not the least bit attached to what anyone else did or did not do. I kept my power, with no judgment, and instead did only what I needed to do to heal myself.

Even though, in that moment, I missed the “distraction” lesson during chocolate bagging, I will eventually figure it all out and get the lesson after-the-fact.

“I create my reality in every environment, not just in chocolate ceremonies,” I ponder with clarity. “I will never again see the distractions of others in the same light.”

God Drama Emotions

As I meditate early Thursday morning, June 14, 2012, angry stories of renewed frustration begin to consume me. The stories rant on and on about the unruly and inconsiderate distractions during the chocolate ceremony, and about those deeply frustrated “work distractions” during chocolate bagging last night.

Repeatedly, I attempt to ignore the stories, focusing instead on a quest to find joy, understanding, and clarity with the distractions that had occurred. But after about forty minutes of futile attempts to cover the stories with fluffy white light, I suddenly realize that I am extremely angry about what happened yesterday – and deeply angry at the distractions from “other people” throughout my entire life – people who kept me from my focus, my peace, my passion, and my ability to function.

It is soon quite clear that I really blame God for what happened in yesterday’s episode of “The Muppet Show.” I again ponder how I frequently project my God drama onto Keith – and how Keith seemed to intentionally feed into those distractions yesterday in a massive way, doing nothing to create my idea of a safe environment for me to do inner work.

“I am angry at God for the distractions that parents, religious authorities, and other leaders caused or perpetuated in my life,” I ponder my shock at the angry emotions that rage inside. “I am angry that they did nothing to create a safe environment for me to be myself.”

As I immerse myself in this new layer of God drama, I note that the surfacing emotions involve an intense mixture of deep anger and heavy sadness. As I allow the emotions to churn and boil, intentionally giving them permission to come up and flow out, I soon sink into several minutes of deep emotional release – an intense mixture of muffled sobs, muffled screeches, and overwhelming breath-restricting dry heaving.

Another Layer Gone

Finally, when the emotions stop, I continue to fill with light as intense squeamy (squirming and screaming) sensations consume my wrists and forearms.

“Wow,” I ponder with shock, “that was intense.”

I feel so much better after releasing this next layer of raging God drama emotion. The intensity of this new layer of anger and sadness astounded me, and the newfound peace that follows behind is magical.

I now clearly see that all of the distraction energy in my life has been my creation, my own survival mechanism to maintain a thread of sanity during extremely difficult periods of emotional survival. I am so thrilled to have released yet another layer of that mysterious anger at God and Higher Energies.

Speaking Truth

With the emotional charges now released, I spend more time pondering the strange events of yesterday.

“I wonder if part of my lesson was that I needed to learn how to lovingly speak my truth,” I ponder with curiosity. “Perhaps I needed to interrupt the distractions and lovingly ask people to honor our sacred space on the porch.”

“But wait,” I ponder with delight,” I actually did speak up yesterday – many times. I clearly and confidently discussed the distractions with Keith, doing so in a way that everyone could hear if they wanted to listen. And I did it from a place of love and non-judgment – from a place of empowerment, while realizing that what was happening was my creation and that I could choose how to respond. The fact that nothing changed when I spoke my truth was simply another reinforcement that I do create my own woo-woo reality, and that what I ‘needed to happen’ yesterday is exactly what DID happen. I was given a profound experience of seeing how I can be nonattached to annoying behavior – seeing how distraction has served me in my life – and how distraction still annoys me when I lose focus and connection to Source.”

After finishing beautiful-but-intense morning meditations, I finally put distractions aside and spend a magical day writing and publishing “A Magical Interlude” as I reminisce about a much-needed week with my dear friend Pyper.

Life Distractions

As I look back at yesterday morning, I almost giggle at the synchronous nature of two crazy dreams, and of my reading in the book “Oneness” by Rasha.

Those dreams both dealt with crazy life distractions – a dream of wildly backing down a mountain road while the driver was distracted and simply ignored my request for more peace – and a dream of spending an entire day distractedly rearranging chairs for a healing workshop rather than doing the workshop itself.

And that quote from Rasha, talking about how repeated episodes on a theme will manifest as experience – I now obviously recognize that the quote was preparing me for an onslaught of distraction experience that would help me understand one of the major disconcerting themes of my life.

The ceremony yesterday began with beautiful metaphors – a cute little honeybee bringing delightful messages of life’s sweetness finally returning – and intuitive understandings that took me into attempting to work on subconscious hooking between love and the eating of emotional garbage.

But then, the ceremony took a sudden and extremely unusual twist. Having had frequent training to condition my observer-awareness, I quickly realized that the “massive distractions” on the porch were my teachers – teachers that took me on a wild ride through childhood emotion, God drama, and clear recognition that I still have more to learn.

I love how a normal ordinary day – one that appears so distracting and frustrating on the surface – can bring such profound inner growth. After finally discovering love and gratitude for how massive distraction kept me safe and alive for all those emotionally agonizing years – I will never again perceive the distracting behaviors of others in quite the same way.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Crazy stories swarm my head as I spend a quiet Sunday morning, June 10, 2012, attempting to center and ground myself. Even though I absolutely know that the last two chocolate ceremonies were perfect for what I needed, bringing profound growth and understanding to my inner-work journey, incessant inner stories demand and insist otherwise.

The inner bullshit generator is insisting that one specific man is responsible for the overabundance of shallow and stuck masculine energy on the porch – that he is intentionally bringing in the distractions and indirectly driving away those who would want to focus on real inner work.

I attempt to ignore these inner storytellers, recognizing them as ego and projections of past childhood pain – but in spite of my best efforts, the stories persistently nip at my heels all morning. I realize as I prepare to walk out to Keith’s porch that these inner stories are a major setup for my process today.

Questioning Reality Creation

To my shock, the afternoon chocolate ceremony is very small. In addition to Keith and myself, we start out with only two other men and one other woman. The woman and one man have been major contributors to past stuck energy on the porch. The other man is new, and it turns out he sees himself as a teacher in the area of sexual energies.

“Wow, I am already having a heart orgasm,” this new man exclaims a few minutes after drinking his chocolate. “It is OK to talk about heart orgasms, isn’t it?”

The other two quickly join in to this man’s sexual-energy discussion as I withdraw in extreme discomfort. I feel so deeply triggered that I am ready to stand up and leave the porch … right now.

“At least stay for a little while,” my heart encourages me. “Remember that you create or allow everything, and that this is happening for a reason.”

“But why would I manifest this?” I argue with my heart. “I wouldn’t do that … so why did I? What do I need to learn from this deeply triggering situation?”

I feel extremely shut down, still considering leaving when two other women show up on the porch. I do not serve chocolate to the newcomers. In fact, I am so rebellious that I do not even glance upward. I just sit in my stories, desperately attempting to raise my vibrations, trying to ride the elevator in my high-rise apartment. It does not help at all when I occasionally do glance upward, only to see the man who made the “heart orgasm” comment grinning in my direction, attempting to lock me into sustained eye contact. I quickly close my eyes and look downward, wanting to vomit.

‘Nun’ Of The Above

Keith guides a very unusual ceremony – one that makes sense given the stuck nature of those on the porch today. Without any type of introductory discussion or meditation, Keith simply meditates silently, as do I, while many on the porch engage in bantering conversation. Keith does eventually mention that he is not going to make usual rounds of the porch – but that he is available to work with anyone who wants to speak up and ask for assistance.

Finally, after perhaps an hour of silence, one of the new women speaks up to ask for help.

“I would like to talk about my issue, and I believe that others are working on the same thing,” This woman begins. “There is a part of me that absolutely knows that I either get a relationship, or I get spirituality … but I do NOT get both … it is one or the other.”

“‘Nun’ of the above,” Keith jokes back, referring to a metaphor he occasionally uses when describing that many people, in their past lives, were trained in spiritual traditions where their teachings profoundly demanded that to be spiritual they absolutely must abstain from all sexual/relationship energy. Thus, the “Nun” reference in Keith’s comment, referring to the most common tradition of Nuns and Monks who had a celibacy requirement.

Based on experience, I totally believe Keith is going to guide this woman into a past-life regression where he will help her to explore such a belief by exploring what she did in that lifetime. But instead, Keith guides her into a subconscious journey. I resist at first, but soon opt to follow along in my own way.

Stern Demands

Soon, Keith has guided her into an inner conference room, deep in her subconscious.

“Sit on one end of the table,” Keith guides the woman. “Have your Higher Self, inner children, and guides, etc…, sit on one side, and then invite this part of you – the part that absolutely knows that you are not allowed to have both spirituality AND a relationship – to sit on the other end of the table.”

As the woman meditates into this inner environment, I attempt to do the exact same thing, but quickly experience extreme resistance – resistance that refuses to allow me to sense any type of connection to the energy at the other end of my table.

Finally, several minutes later, I sense the presence of a very strong, judgmental, stern, pushy, forceful, and controlling energy sitting at the far end of the table. I do not see a visual, but am shocked to strongly sense my own dear mother’s face as representing this energy. It is an energy sternly demanding that I follow my Fundamentalist Christian teachings about sexuality – point blank – no exceptions.

Guaranteed Loss Of Love

“Ask this resistance part of you to release some of the resistance onto the table in front of it,” Keith guides the other woman. “You are not yet completely letting it go … just temporarily taking it outside onto the table.”

As I try to imagine this mother/resistance part of me doing this, I experience extreme stubborn refusal on the part of this energy, refusing to participate in this temporary-release process. Finally, as I repeatedly focus and intend, I sense a very tiny bit of this resistance energy on the table. It is not much … just a small token. Meanwhile, I am experiencing intense fear and anger at this aspect of myself – an aspect continuing to carry my mother’s face.

“I absolutely KNOW that undoing this religious and family programming in the area of relationships and sexuality means guaranteed loss of ALL future love from family and religious friends,” A sudden feeling intuitively consumes me. “I cannot release this programming … there will be deep judgment all around if I do so … I MUST CONFORM and restrict my sexual beliefs and behaviors to fit into that childhood box … PERIOD!”

“Ask that part of you what it needs from you,” Keith guides the other woman.

As I keep following along, I recognize that this resistance voice with my mother’s face is an actual aspect of my loyal energy that I literally put there sometime during my childhood and/or youth – that I put it there to protect me … to keep me safe and alive … and that I owe it deep gratitude and love. Had I not asked this part of my energy to keep me in the box, I would likely have done things that would indeed have caused all loss of love from family and religion – doing so during a period of my life when it was crucial and important to maintain stability.

But as I ask Bobby and Sharon (my inner children) to go sit by that resistance energy … to give it love … I begin to sink into deep agitated tears as nausea swells in my abdomen.

Crabby Metaphors

As Keith guides the other woman to release more and more of her own conditioning to the middle of the table – to her Higher Self, I try to do the same. But I increasingly meet stern resistance and raging fear. I experience so much emotional discomfort in this meditative process that I cannot function. Twice, I actually go into the bathroom in an attempt to vomit out the agonizing nausea in my abdomen, and twice, I return to my seat, unsuccessful, still in extreme discomfort.

“I want this sexual and relationship conditioning out of me,” I hear the nausea metaphorically screaming.

But I have no luck. After returning to my seat, feeling agitated and noticeably disturbed, one man makes brief eye contact with me. Just the sight of his concern makes me want to sob – but I do not feel safe doing that on the porch today – I will not allow myself to sink into deeper emotional release.

Meanwhile, I watch as Keith works with another man who has shown up late – working at a surface level – talking about a metaphor of how crab fishermen just throw their crabs into an open basket, having no fear of the crabs escaping. As soon as one of the crabs tries to climb out to freedom, the others will reach up and pull it back down into the basket.

“That is exactly what my religious culture has done to me for a lifetime,” I ponder with resonance. “It is impossible to climb out of those belief systems without consequences. If I do try, those still in the basket reach up and grab me with projected judgment and fear. I cannot leave that basket without losing the love of those still in the basket.”

Pandora’s Box

Finally, when Keith is again sitting in silence, I glance his way with a look of desperation. As he returns the glance, Keith begins to speak.

“Wow,” Keith smiles at me, “you’re finally ready to go into your process, aren’t you.”

“Keith,” I share in panic, “I feel as if I have opened Pandora’s Box, and that I am a ping pong ball in a moving box car. I am all over the place with relationship panic.”

I quickly fill Keith in with other details of my ongoing inner-conference room meditation.

“I’m trying to figure out if I need to cry or bring in the light,” I express my frustration. “Meanwhile, I am just struggling to maintain a connection to the light.”

Providing very little guidance, Keith quickly calms me down, encouraging me to relax, to breathe deep, and to reconnect to the light. I soon find myself back in my gently flowing river, surrendering and floating downstream with the Higher Energies as my guides.

Next, I imagine a mountain scene, with “sex” and “relationships” being two separate mountains. My river flows between these two mountains, and I imagine myself floating peacefully through the fear. But I am anything but peaceful. The inner voices are intense, as fears chatter away and doubts demand my focus.

“This is not working,” inner voices scream. “I need to cry this out … to feel it more. None of this fluffy ‘light stuff’ is going to help.”

I am bouncing around in that boxcar, struggling, trying to stay connected, wishing I could just sob, but determined to do my release differently today. I want to have less tears and more light.

I sit in this crazy up-and-down meditation, alternating between peace and near-craziness for a very long time.

God-Drama Setup

“How are you doing now, Brenda?” Keith eventually checks in with me.

I quickly explain that my “squeamys” are quite intense now, and that the pains in my solar plexus are intuitively telling me that my clenching and lifelong loss-of-inner-power are deeply related to this meditation – to the issue of sexuality and relationships – to the intense fear of loss of love. I then share details of the incessant stories, the doubts, the emotions, and nonstop inner voices.

“You forgot to mention the light,” Keith chimes in.

“Yeah,” I respond, “I am also barely able to maintain a small tiny connection to the light.

Again, Keith does not guide me further, leaving me to flounder in my inner confusion.

I clearly recognize this as another “God drama setup” – that I am being shown the nature of my solo journey. Both as a child, and as a teenager, I struggled profoundly, believing myself to be alone and abandoned – desperately needy of Higher Energy assistance – desperately craving God to hold my hand through every step. But at the same time, I had so much shame, guilt, and hatred at feeling abandoned by God that I simply could not allow any help, no matter what the source.

Bullshit Stories

As I continue pondering, I clearly see that I am “erasing” all my positive experiences again, that I am once more surrendering to doubts and not trusting myself. Quickly I invite Bobby and Sharon to assist me.

“Will you roll up those doubts in a carpet and throw them into an angelic dumpster?” I ask my inner children.

I silently work with this inner metaphor for at least a half hour before suddenly remembering all the other “bullshit” stories that have plagued me since early this morning. I soon ask my inner children to discard each of these inner bullshit stories, one at a time.

“Keith,” I eventually interrupt the silence. “I am working with tons of bullshit stories that are telling me this and that about why I can’t move foreword.”

“That is why you are so annoyed by other peoples’ bullshit stories on the porch,” Keith stabs me with an unexpected comeback.

In a brief conversation, Keith painfully emphasizes concepts I already believe – concepts of how reality is a mirror, and that on the porch, my own inner stories have been shown to me in that mirror.

Almost immediately, another bullshit story rages inside me. It is a story of how Keith is being so rudely insensitive to my profound admission – of how he is stabbing me rather than congratulating my self-awareness.

I soon ask Bobby and Sharon to roll this newest bullshit story up in a metaphorical carpet and to haul it off to the nearest angelic dumpster.

Struggling With Craziness

I continue to meditate in these struggles until the end of the ceremony. When people leave, the man who had made the initial “heart orgasm comments” comes over to give me a long warm hug. I respond with a short hug, quickly relaxing my grasp – but he hangs on much longer than my comfort zone can stand.

I simply do not connect with this man’s energy. I see him as condescending – as coming from a place of believing himself to be “sexually healed” while I am the wounded soul that he intends to help with his wisdom. I can only imagine putting words to the energy I feel coming from him – words speaking “you poor wounded sexual child … I see how I can help you … and I am going to do that by hugging you with my powerful energy … I could fix you if you would only allow it and come to my workshops.”

Finally, when I am alone on the porch, Keith spends a while allowing me to talk in private. I again confess how clearly I recognize my inner bullshit stories – and how I carry and wield a huge eraser.

“But I am struggling with the craziness,” I beg for guidance. “I want to further connect to the light, but I am feeling as if maybe I just need to go home and cry this out. I did not feel safe crying in the group today.”

Keith quickly emphasizes that my “not feeling safe to cry today” is my own creation … and then he gently scolds me for being in my head … for still trying to figure out my process.

I am so confused that I just do not get it. I have “erased” all prior understanding about being in my head and am again lost in needing to control my process from rational mind.

Repressed Expression

“Your half-crying is just dragging your process out,” Keith provides feedback. “Either cry and sob to the core, or do it with the light … but don’t just tiptoe in the tears. That is not productive.”

I silently disagree, but do not feel up to expressing such feelings in words. Throughout the ceremony, I have been allowing myself to go as deep as I dared – restricting the external tears, yes, but still feeling the emotions profoundly. Each time I did so, I connected with what tiny bit of light I could find – allowing myself to meditate in that light until the emotions settled enough that I felt safe trying again to go still deeper.

Yes, I was half-crying, but I was feeling deeply, and was inviting light as best I could in those moments.

I again mention my “not feeling safe to sob publicly” with those present today … and Keith again reminds me that this was my creation.

“This was the story of my teens,” I suddenly speak with new clarity. “During those agonizing years, it was not safe for me to cry … to express any emotion. If I had done so, such expression would only have triggered concern and fixing in my parents.”

It is quite clear now. I have skillfully created my teenage environment on this porch today – doing so to extremes – struggling with sexual and relationship pains but not allowing myself to express such pain.

Crazy-Making Voices

“I have dealt with some pretty crazy-making voices in my head today,” I soon express to Keith. “They were extremely convincing, driving me insane and batty. I was on the edge of losing the battle with them.”

“Brenda,” Keith validates my struggle, “you have been dealing with those voices for your whole life. Today was just triggering them for you, bringing them back to your awareness.”

“This craziness that you are in is what your mother had to put up with when you were young,” Keith shares another unexpected guidance. “Maybe this can help you to develop compassion for your mother and what she had to go through in not being able to help you.”

“If someone had attempted to explain to your mother what you were going through,” Keith adds, “she could not possibly have understood.”

“If someone had tried to tell me the same thing,” I respond with clarity, “I could not have understood either.”

Magic Eraser

Keith spends considerable time reminding me of my “magic eraser” and of how I repeatedly get lost in the doubt and confusion while erasing all memory of the beautiful spiritual experiences I have had. He immediately refers to my magical channeling experience while meditating in a hotel room in Antigua – while pondering experiences later written about in my “Sordid Social Secrets” blog.

“Even when I wrote that blog,” I confess to Keith, “I was already beginning to doubt myself … to discount that profound experience.”

“Those words you channeled were very true,” Keith reassures me. “Don’t doubt them. Print them out, laminate them, and put them on your coffee table for frequent reading to remind yourself of your spiritual connectedness.”

Rattled And Unstable

Thank you for another bizarre and unordinary ceremony today,” I share with Keith. “It is exactly what I needed to take me deeper. But I am so rattled right now … and I am so unstable that I cannot fully appreciate it. I am steeped in the dysfunction of my youth. I am actually quite terrified of where I am at. The inner bullshit voices are overwhelming and convincing.”

“Those voices are desperate to hang on,” Keith confirms, “fighting for their lives. This is NOT the time to give up and allow them to win.”

“I know I need to further surrender to these voices,” I express to Keith, “but I am so afraid of losing myself in those voices.”

“Stop pushing yourself,” Keith reassures me. “Follow the flow. Stay connected to the light, and trust your process. Stop before you get so far that you lose yourself again.”

“Part of me wants to go home right now and just sob,” I share the strength of my feelings, “but maybe I should just watch movies instead.”

“Either option is OK … just trust yourself,” Keith confirms.

“The movies would keep me from going deeper and getting lost,” I ponder out loud. “But maybe I could sob it out and not get lost too.”

“Brenda, quit using your rational mind to control your process,” Keith again gently reprimands me. “You cannot do that. Rational mind is not the tool. It does not work that way.”

I know Keith is right regarding my present insistence on involving rational mind. But the inner craziness is so overwhelming that I continue to fight it.

Craving Physical Touch

“Even though I feel crazy right now,” I share with Keith. “I am in a very good place. Thank you for spending this half hour talking to me alone.”

After a quick thank you hug, I begin to walk away, completely unsure what will happen next.

“Thanks for being in the ceremony today,” Keith calls out as I am part way up the steep hill by his home.

As I continue walking, I can think of nothing more than my desire to simply isolate and sob until the emotions dry up. But after taking a few notes and getting some dinner, the emotion is not quite as strong.

As I sit on the daybed, wishing I could sob, I just feel numb. Soon, my roommate Sufi comes over to ask how I am doing. When I respond, I begin to cry … a lot. She listens with loving concern while lightly rubbing my knee.

“I never had physical contact as a child,” I mumble through increasing tears. “We were not a hugging family. We never had loving emotional exchanges like this. I always craved such gentle physical contact with others, but felt like such a ‘loser outcast’ that I couldn’t go there, even if the opportunity were available.”

“What can I do,” Sufi, gently queries.

“I need to be alone, to go deeper into the pain and sadness … but I cannot do that with anyone here,” I ask for privacy.

Soon, Sufi hugs me good night as she steps out to socialize with friends.

Surrender And Release

Minutes after Sufi leaves me alone, I isolate in my bedroom, sinking into deep wailing moans as I allow repressed emotions to express themselves through intense agony. This emotional release is among the deepest and most painful I have ever experienced.

Finally, after nearly an hour of sobbing and building piles of tissues, the emotions cease as intuitions tell me I have reached a good stopping point.

I have not gotten lost in the emotional release as I had previously feared. Instead, a great deal of energy is now swirling in my head. I begin to meditate into this energy, now focusing on inviting the light to flood my soul – to transmute what I just allowed myself to feel. All emotions have vanished as I gradually drift off to sleep.

Sordid Suicidal Hopelessness

At 2:45 a.m. on Monday morning, I wake up, feeling emotionally numb. After repeated unsuccessful attempts to return to dreamland, I turn on my computer at 3:30 a.m., hoping to take notes about a few of the insane feelings that are raging through me. But the emotions are so raw that I am unable to write.

As I sit playing mindless computer games, I increasingly experience intense suicidal feelings – emotions that I intuitively recognize as belonging to myself at the tender age of twelve – forgotten and never expressed emotions from a young boy lost in the futility of hopeless humiliation. (See Blog titled: Sordid Social Secrets.)

“I have utterly blown it,” the feelings of despair rage through me. “I cannot talk to a living soul … I cannot cry or express any emotion because someone will suspect something … I don’t want to live … I cannot love or be loved … I want to block out all love because if I let my parents too close, they will know what I did … I am an evil and unworthy loser.”

What frightens me is that I suddenly have a feeling of wanting to place a knife to my heart. While the present-day observer in me would never allow such a thing to actually happen, this stab-myself-in-the-heart feeling is intense and very real. This part of me has no remaining hope … does not want to go on … and is completely shut down because of a fear of God’s judgment.

“I will sabotage and reject loving energies before they judge and condemn me,” I ponder the clear understandings that flow. “I loathe myself, I am unworthy, and I need to hide from God.”

The Perfect Loser

Prior to today, I had no memory of feeling these suicidal feelings at age 12. But based on what happened in my life at that time … based on having completely blocked out and repressed all memories shortly after that experience … and based on strong intuition and guidance … there is no doubt that I am now experiencing the utter self-loathing and hopeless emotions of how I felt after destroying all hope of a happy teenage social life.

Beginning at age twelve, my life theme became “The Perfect Loser.” I knew inside that I was an absolute loser, a complete failure, an evil sinner who could never rise above my shame. Yet, on the outside, I genuinely and sincerely did all I could to be the perfect young boy – excelling in school, scouting, athletics, and in blocking love and pushing people away before they could see the fraud and façade that I knew myself to be.

Confident Conscious Surrender

By 5:00 a.m., early on this Monday morning, June 11, 2012, I am so immersed in the agonizing emotional pain that I am nearly lost. I am numb and alone … absolutely knowing that I have messed everything up beyond repair. The emotional reality flowing through me is painful and real.

“I know that everyone hates me,” this part of me screams. “What is the point of going on? I would rather just give up and die in absolute hopeless futility.”

This emotion is so real that it frightens me – even though a tiny part of me clearly recognizes what is happening as a regression to age twelve. The stories and emotions are intensely overwhelming.

Soon, I give up fighting the flow of emotion, no longer trying to suppress and restrict its power. Instead, intuitions remind me that the best way out of an emotional reality is to go deeper into it. Rather than resist, I consciously decide to surrender to the flow.

“I AM the observer and I will NOT get lost in these emotions,” strong intuitions confidently remind me.

For the remainder of the day, I surrender to the hopelessness and futility, allowing the entire day to be consumed by videos and computer games. I have learned that the mindless computer games provide me a powerful tool to access stuck emotions – keeping rational mind occupied while subconscious self-hatred further swells from within.

Finally, at 10:30 p.m., I prepare for bed after a long and mind-numbing day. As I rest on my pillow, I remember Keith’s guidance to reread the channeling section from, “Sordid Social Secrets” – and to do it frequently.

“F@ck it all,” I ponder Keith’s guidance. “I don’t want to read that stupid Higher Energy stuff.”

Wow, these suicidal stories of hopelessness remain intense. Even so, a tiny part of me does remain profoundly connected to my observer status – to the knowing that I am surrendering to this process for an inspired reason.

A Walking Contradiction

Tuesday morning, I am awake at 4:00 a.m., again unable to sleep.

Feeling somewhat more in control, I open a new email quote from Rasha. I love the words – words reassuring me that even though what I am doing appears to be a walking contradiction, that I am indeed working at a very high level.

Following are the words of this “Moment of Oneness #60” quote:

“It is best to suspend judgment about the levels of progress made by others whose dramas may include you. For there are those amongst you who are walking contradictions, working through issues at the highest levels, and manifesting extreme scenarios that might be misinterpreted. Best to reserve judgment for your own process, and to tune inward for clues to the patterns that keep you in a spiral of experiential repetition that may have been transcended on other levels.”

Hopelessly Screwed Up

As I sit alone, isolated and sad – deeply sad – I also know that what I am experiencing is an emotional reality from the past – one that is giving me a profound education.

But as I send a couple of emails to family regarding the birthdays of two dear grandchildren, my sense of “loser-ness” slams me. I suddenly burst into wails, sobs, and screeches. As I do so, I actually feel emotional densities moving around, especially in my head.

Finally, at 8:30 a.m., I surrender to Keith’s guidance and re-read “Sordid Social Secrets” – reliving that painful August day in 1967. Again, I sob and wail frequently as I read. The emotions this time around are unbelievably agonizing, excruciating, and WOW so shockingly real and painful – much more so than when I wrote this blog just four short days ago.

I clearly realize that on that frightening evening in 1967, I could not cry or be sad, because doing so would betray me and my hopeless dilemma. No one could ever know.

“I NEVER processed any of that old emotion in a healthy way,” I ponder with clarity. “That is what is flowing through me now – the feelings of having hopelessly screwed up my life and feelings of futility are roaring out of me.”

Tarot Teasers

Shortly before 9:30 a.m. on this Tuesday morning, I begin to feel slightly lighter, opting to pull a few tarot cards for clarity. When I ask for guidance on my present situation, the three cards I pull tell an intuitive story that goes as follows: “I am standing firmly rooted on the ground with a myriad of emotional choices floating in front of me. I am free to choose my next move, but am clearly reminded that nothing in this physical reality is as it seems, that everything is upside down from the consensus reality perspective.”

When I ask for guidance on whether I should follow a hunch telling me it is time to seek further guidance from Keith, I only giggle when I pull a card that implies strong balance and connection to the subconscious world.

As I ponder these cards and the intuitions that flow so clearly in my soul, I know I am in a very good place with my process – but still, the experience is quite overwhelming.

Before walking out to Keith’s home, I again meditate for a while, gleaning ever deeper insights regarding a life of social paranoia that originated at age twelve, and how that paranoia contributed to my God drama.

When I arrive at Keith’s porch, I feel lighter, but still dazed and in shock – clearly recognizing my situation as a childhood reality that is flowing through me – clearly knowing that I need to just love myself for where I am at. Keith is quite busy this morning, but soon I have a session scheduled for later this evening.

Healing With Glee

As if synchronously guided with perfect timing, I then spend the day watching recently-acquired episodes of the television series “Glee” – beginning with season one. Prior to today I knew nothing about the series, other than that I was drawn to watch it.

As I watch the first six episodes, I am blown away by how perfect the subject matter fits with where I am at. The episodes play out a crazy mish mash of high school social games – with popular kids picking on the loser kids, social trauma and drama, adult and teen interrelationship drama, gay issues, plus entertaining music and dance to bring a little smile to my face.

My own social struggles are beautifully illustrated in so many unique ways, giving a new perspective on my traumatizing teenage memories.

Finally, at shortly before 6:00 p.m., Keith stops by my home to let me know he is ready earlier than expected. While walking together to his home, I fill him in on the agonizing two-day journey through which I have passed – every pertinent detail.

A Resistance Face

For the first forty minutes or so, Keith and I simply meditate silently, not engaging in any conversation. Inner guidance tells me that silent meditation is exactly what I need, and that if Keith needs to share something with me, that he will do so.

I focus on bringing in Higher Energy as I breathe slowly and deeply. My breathing is restricted, and I experience a great deal of energetic pressure in my forehead – as well as an energetic wall at the top of my solar plexus.

I try several things, asking my heart to assist, doing a little soul retrieval, drifting in my river raft, and responding to the occasional intuition.

Finally, I interrupt to ask for feedback and guidance, asking Keith about the various pains that I suspect are most likely manifestations of internal resistance.

“Connect with that resistance energy in your conference room,” Keith then guides me.

I struggle with this meditation for a while as rational mind repeatedly gets in my way.

“My head is trying to label this resistance with my own ‘twelve-year-old’ face,” I explain to Keith, “but other intuitions tell me that my rational mind is making this up – interfering with the process. Can you suggest anything?”

Faceless Orbs

“Drop the metaphors completely,” Keith quickly guides me out of my rational mind. “Instead, see the resistance energy as a faceless orb of energy.”

“Is there one orb, or a group of orbs?” Keith then surprises me with his next question.

“I sense a whole group of orbs gathered across the table,” I soon respond. “It feels like they are about two-feet in diameter, and that there are maybe somewhere between five-to-eight of them.”

“Are they working separately from each other, or as a group?” Keith encourages me to connect further.

“I feel like they are working as a group unit,” I respond a few minutes later. They have been resisting together for so long that I get the feeling they are pretty much working as a team.”

Keith quickly congratulates me, expressing agreement with my perceptions.

“What do they need from you?” Keith then asks a standard question that I have already anticipated – causing me to wonder again if I am in my rational mind.

“Obviously,” I respond quickly, “they need my love … divine and self-love … they need me to see them with gratitude, and to understand that they are loyal and devoted parts of me – aspects of self that I have asked to do a very difficult and thankless job. They have been doing it flawlessly for almost five decades. They need my gratitude and appreciation, rather than resentment and judgment.”

Stepping Aside

“Bring in some of that love,” Keith quickly guides me. “Let’s start with self-love for now.”

As I spend fifteen minutes meditating on this task, I experience a great deal of self-doubt and resistance along with the feeling that rational mind is trying to control the process. Rather than surrender to the doubt, I send love, both to rational mind and to that doubting part of me. I have beaten up on my genuine rational mind far too much. It is not my enemy any more … it is simply not the tool.

I continue to pursue various “surrender metaphors” – each of which feels as if I am forcing things with my mind. Finally, I follow intuitions and ask my Higher Self to work directly with my heart, and with these orbs.

“I want self-love to connect and heal wherever needed,” I express intentions to Higher Self. “I don’t know how to do that, but you and my heart do … so please just take care of the details while I step out of the way.”

Subconscious Symbolism

Soon, I experience a few physical pains in my third-eye region as emotions of fear and anxiousness come and go.

“Brenda,” Keith soon interrupts. “Find where that self-love is … and what happened to it.”

“I know I pushed it out of me when I was young,” I respond. “It is in the safekeeping of my Higher Self.”

“Bring this back in,” Keith encourages me.

I focus for ten to fifteen minutes, again wandering in my head for a while. Finally, I start to focus on gratitude and several other techniques that have at times helped me reconnect with the heart. I repeatedly explore various memories of experiences that have brought deep spiritual connectedness in the past.

“Is this using my head?” I query Keith. “What I am doing feels like I am directly accessing heart memories, but part of me wants to doubt.”

“No Brenda,” Keith reassures me, “you are using subconscious symbolism to guide your subconscious mind into where you want to go.”

Vulnerable To Attack

“Brenda,” Keith again interrupts after a while. “Imagine that self-love as being an orb too. Find it outside of yourself. Where is it?”

“I feel several orbs here and there,” I begin to talk aloud. “Part of me insists that this is just imagination, but strong intuitions tell me the self-love orb is above and slightly to my right, perhaps a foot away.”

“Connect with that orb and bring it inside,” Keith quickly guides me.”

As I do this, I initially experience a lot of love, and a mild tingling sensation moving directly into my heart. Soon, occasional painful resistance energies come and go. Gradually, the tingling sensations move into the high heart, throat, chin, and face. My entire face is now vibrating. Suddenly, I experience tickling all over my face – giving me the sensation that mosquitoes or small flies are landing on my skin and biting me.

“This is an energetic metaphor for my fear of surrendering to these energies,” I soon express intuitive clarity. “I am afraid that if I open myself to be vulnerable, that I will be bitten and stung by the things that ‘bug’ me. In fact, many times when I used to meditate in the mountains, I would have to leave because of the bugs that literally swarmed me.”

Keith strongly agrees with my intuitive guidance.

An Irreparable Reality

“I think you are done for the night,” Keith finally interrupts after another long period of beautiful meditation. “You have reached a very good flow, and know what you are doing.”

“Yeah, I feel really good,” I respond with a giggle. “In the last two days I did not know if I would ever be able to return to this peaceful energy. I was so lost in teenage emotional pain.”

“Congratulations for doing what you had to do,” Keith smiles.

We then discus how I had surrendered to the depths of the emotional nightmare – to the stories, beliefs, and densities – feeling them to the core.

“You allowed yourself to go the bottom of that pain while never losing track of being the observer,” Keith points out.

“I literally felt as if that age-twelve reality was extremely real in the present-day,” I reminisce with shock. “The emotions were overwhelming … as if my present-day situation was irreparable. I found it extremely difficult to remain nonattached. Wow!”

The Big Picture

I could never have possibly imagined where that bizarre Sunday afternoon ceremony – a ceremony triggering sexuality, relationships, and spirituality issues – would lead.

The experience first took me to frightening depths of childhood sexual conditioning, knowing with clarity that if I were to ever abandon such conditioning that I would lose all hope of ever receiving future love from family, and even some friends.

Yes, on that afternoon, just two days ago, I did open a frightening Pandora’s Box – one leaving me in the depths of ping-ponging craziness that took me to the core of forgotten emotions. When I left for home later that evening, feeling crazy, rattled, and unstable – having received Keith’s counsel to re-read a blog titled “Sordid Social Secrets” – I had no idea as to the adventure into which I was about to be unknowingly committed.

It is only in retrospect, as I write more than five weeks later, that I clearly see the profound wisdom of the big picture.

Wealth Of Wisdom

That Pandora’s Box took me deep into the forgotten emotional reality of a young twelve-year-old Bobby – into repressed emotions that I have never before felt to such horrendous depth – into suicidal feelings of futility that I blocked out and repressed in a clinging effort to somehow survive after what I saw as an irreparable sexual scandal.

I am so thrilled that I granted myself permission to dive into the frightening murky depths of that excruciatingly painful swamp – finally allowing myself to experience those agonizing emotions – allowing myself to feel them to the terrifying core.

What blows me away is just how unbelievably real and powerful that forbidden reality became as it flowed through me – how convincing the emotions were at luring me into present-day suicidal futility – and then how easily those same emotions simply vanished as I spent a couple of hours meditating in the light while immersed in Keith’s magical space-holding presence.

On that Tuesday evening in mid June, I was clueless as to the significance of how powerfully that astonishing reality had come and then gone, now transmuted and released forever. Today, in retrospect, I clearly see that those three days in June were among the most profound and powerful healing journeys I have yet experienced – a journey whose power I will always respect – a journey for which I will be forever grateful.

I am finally beginning to understand the wealth of wisdom in Keith’s words – words he has repeatedly taught me – words encouraging me to learn how to allow past emotions and realities to flow through me without attaching or identifying to them.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

After spending two rejuvenating and restful days while writing, enjoying a break from what has been very intense inner work, I am back at it on Wednesday afternoon, June 6, 2012. As I focus on meditation from the very beginning, I find myself in a state of deep trust, bringing in light, and manifesting a beautiful ceremony – one that will be perfect for me in whatever way I need.

“You look happier today,” Tim smiles at me before the ceremony begins. “And your skin seems lighter and smoother.”

I blush as I express gratitude for his feedback. I clearly recognize that the difference in my demeanor comes from my renewed attempts to access and fill myself with joy – something I had profoundly explored in the last ceremony. I do indeed feel a little more joy, but still have emotional densities tugging at my heartstrings.

Riding The Wave

Early during the “Glow Meditation,” Tim, the young man who rambled with countless stories in the previous ceremony – the young man who had beautifully mirrored young teenage Bobby while helping me to find unconditional love for my teenage adolescent – begins to lose control with beautiful childlike laughter.

“You are connecting with part of your genuine child that was pushed out,” Keith briefly guides Tim. “Allow this to happen, and let the joy come back.”

As I observe the contagious laughter, I also begin to laugh a tiny bit. I still feel self-conscious about laughing, and greatly restrain myself, but I have a huge grin on my face.

Tim continues to laugh almost continuously, quite uncontrollably. Very soon, I get up on my metaphorical surfboard and begin to ride Tim’s joyful wave. I do not laugh as much as Tim, but I profoundly enjoy the beautiful show while giving myself permission to sort-of laugh – even if it is only a very hidden and reserved giggle.

Further immersing myself in the meditative moment, I imagine myself in a circle with Bobby and Sharon (my precious inner children), dancing around joyfully, swaying around a cauldron of bubbling and boiling witches-brew-like emotional density. As we watch that yucky density boil and splash in the large round cauldron, we just laugh at it.

Kitchen Conversation

Soon, someone arrives late and I slip into the kitchen to pour another cup of chocolate. To my surprise, Keith follows me in to run a quick errand of his own.

“How are you doing?” Keith asks me.

“I’m on a deep journey with my inner children,” I respond, while quickly explaining how I am riding Tim’s wave and dancing around a cauldron filled with emotional density.

“Go deeper with this metaphor,” Keith encourages. “Bring in other parts of yourself to join you in that dancing circle.”

“You mean bring in the whole gang?” I ask.

“Yeah,” Keith smiles back. “Bring in your inner children, inner adolescents, and whoever else wants to join you.”

Keith then suggests that when I get far enough along in this process, that it would be a good idea to bring in the light and to ask my Higher Self for assistance in transmuting the bubbling cauldron. As I ponder Keith’s words, I realize that in the past, I have tried to do most of this transmuting all by myself.

Playful Sarcasm

When I sit back on my cushion, inviting teenage Bobby and Sharon to join the circle, things suddenly get painful. There is a great deal of inner resistance as I clearly recognize that these inner adolescents are not at all happy with the idea of playing right now. I soon ask everyone to alternate positions, asking little Bobby and Sharon to get between teenage Bobby and Sharon … and I invite a three-year-old angel too. Soon, I have invited adult masculine and feminine selves, my Higher Self, other Guides, and other aspects of myself. The circle of inner friends is quite large.

As the “Glow Meditation” completes, Keith turns directly to me. When I fill him in with unfolding details, Keith suggests that as I dance around that cauldron with my entourage of inner children and adolescents, that we sing and play together as well.

Soon, I have a clear emotional image in my mind. My entire entourage is holding hands, giggling and laughing, marching around the cauldron as if we are playing a game of “Ring around the Rosie” – only singing different words.

“We’re not allowed to have fun..un,” We sarcastically sing out in a catchy tune. “We’re not allowed to have fun..un … we’re not allowed to have fun..un.”

We repeat the phrase over and over again. My heart giggles with silliness as I imagine this scenario. Every inner part of me taunts and ridicules the silly idea that I am not allowed to have fun, to be joyful, to feel emotions judged as negative, to be creative, to be loud and giggling, etc…

“Ouch,” I suddenly ponder. “As I focus on not being allowed to be creative, that triggers a great deal of painful emotion.”

Energy Of Stuckness

When I eventually get to a place where I meditatively attempt to transmute the density in the cauldron, I feel deeply stuck – making no progress whatsoever as I approach the task with various metaphors, repeatedly inviting Higher Energies to assist.

I also note with deep curiosity that as Keith works around the porch – that virtually everyone with whom Keith works is either highly resistant to doing any work at all, in denial that they have work to do, stuck in rational mind concepts, or too fearful to go deeper.

Finally, one woman, I will call her Jen, begins to do a little work. Keith guides her into her subconscious mind to find a room. In that room, Jen begins to find clues about why certain things are hooked together in a dysfunctional way. But after a while, Jen hits too much fear and returns to rational-mind storytelling, unable to progress further.

Uniqueness Equals Rejection

Meanwhile, while Jen worked with Keith, I silently joined in, engaging in my own parallel journey. After walking down a long flight of steps and exploring a hallway, I feel guided to a doorway having a sign that reads, “Uniqueness equals rejection and ridicule.”

Inside that room, I find a “Book of Beliefs” opened to a page with a paragraph that reads something like the following:

“I am not permitted to do anything that is uniquely me, whether it is creative, imaginative, laughing, expressing emotions, sharing feelings and opinions, etc. If I do express my unique self, I will get into trouble and later regret it.”

I soon invite Bobby and Sharon to help me tear out the page, which the three of us do together. However, when I try to destroy that page, I, myself, am stuck in deep distractions. I am unable to trust what I am doing. As I attempt to burn the page, I cannot visualize it. I throw the page into the fiery pit of “Mount Doom” (in Mordor, from Lord of the Rings), but the molten lava does not dissolve or burn the page. Finally, I just fake it and pretend that the page burned up – but I absolutely do not feel it in my heart.

As I repeat the process, again inviting Bobby and Sharon to help, we rip out and destroy the page two more times – but each time I feel as if I am forcing and faking the entire process – that it is not really doing anything at all – that what I am doing is a distracting joke.

Back To The High-Rise

As Keith finally completes his first long journey around the porch, I update him in my process – sharing how I felt stuck and distracted – that what I did feels very unproductive.

“I’m struggling and getting lost in the densities that I am trying to release,” I explain to Keith. “I feel as if I am swimming in that swamp, living in that cockroach-infested house, and I am unable to get back to the light.”

“That is my biggest issue,” I share the obvious with Keith. “When I start working with emotional density, I tend to get lost in it.”

“Go back to that high-rise,” Keith suggests and moves on to work with others.

I clearly recognize that Keith is referring to the metaphor of not needing to live in that cockroach-infested house with crack dealers on the corner – that I need to return to my higher-vibration home before continuing to work with the densities.

Lovingly Speaking Truth

As I begin to focus on shifting to higher-vibration neighborhoods, Jen begins talking in loud social conversation with Tim – conversation having nothing to do with the porch or inner work. I struggle to focus with all the distraction, but continue trying. After about ten minutes, Paul calls out loudly to Jen, asking her to please save that conversation for the restaurant. When Jen defiantly ignores Paul’s spot-on request, Paul repeats his words several times.

Finally, I too speak up. I have been feeling quite annoyed, but have no desire to give away my power to the situation. I am trying to fill with loving power, to raise my vibrations. I am somewhat successful in that endeavor, on a very gradual increase – but the loud distraction is quite difficult to ignore.

“I would like to ‘second’ Paul’s request,” I share with Jen. “Your conversation is very distracting.”

I am actually quite proud of myself. I lovingly speak my truth, but I do not disempower myself in the process.

Energetic Empowerment

Keith then gets involved, engaging Jen for nearly a half hour as he attempts to help her understand how her distracted talking and storytelling is not serving her. She defends herself and lightly argues back. I giggle when Keith firmly takes control and explains that this is not a social porch – that when someone is not in their own process that he wants them to hold a high vibrational space for others.

“But I was guided to talk to Tim,” Jen demands, refusing to back down.

I giggle when Keith simply disengages from the debate, maintaining his own high energy. I perceive that Keith recognizes that he does not need to win an argument here, and that he has said everything he needs to say.

Almost immediately, another man begins a rational-mind journey with nonstop storytelling. He is in his head and will not stop talking, he will not listen to Keith’s feedback, and he will not attempt to connect inward in meditation. This young man argues with Keith and continues his rational-mind barrage.

I watch this entire scene unfold as I go higher and higher into my energetic high-rise home. In fact, I am profoundly giggling inside while smiling deeply on the outside. I see this scenario as perfect, showing me how I can be empowered and joyful in a very disruptive environment.

Insight Inventories

In fact, as I sit here giggling I take inventory on my experience during the ceremony.

I clearly see how this entire ceremony has been a perfect reenactment of the childhood drama of my life. I began the ceremony reconnecting with my joy – symbolizing how I came into this world. However, as the ceremony unfolded, everyone around me was deeply stuck, acting out my childhood world – a world where people were stuck in their head, buying into consensus-reality behaviors, too afraid to access inner feelings, sharing meaningless rational-mind stories, having no heart-based connection, lost in resistance, stuck in emotional denial, blah, blah, blah.

“And I took all of that world, cultural, and religious programming into me, making it my own,” I ponder with a giggle. “I believed it all … I wanted to fit in and be a part of it … but I got stuck in it myself. I too was lost in the consensus reality muck, losing my joy, giving away all of my power to the endless distractions around me.”

“Now that I am back in my joy,” I continue giggling, “I can clearly see that today I have been given a profound gift of seeing my childhood acted out in skit form, showing me how I lost that joy in the cultural shutdown process.”

“And after returning to that high-rise,” I share with Keith, “I am able to reclaim my inner joy, to maintain an inner connection to source, and see how I can be in such an environment without needing to disempower myself in any way – actually filling with more light and love.”

Deeper Understanding

“Remember,” Keith takes the insight deeper, “that the more joy and love that you took in as a child, that the more density you took in from others. At the start of the ceremony today you found your joy and then immediately began to inhale all of the density, the stuck-ness, and emotional denial from all over the porch – and you temporarily became shut down and lost in it yourself.”

“Wow,” I exclaim, “I was not aware of it at the time, but that is exactly what I did today. All of the stuck energy on the porch became my own. I temporarily resumed living in that low-vibe neighborhood all over again. Now that I am back in the high-rise apartment, I am free and giggling, quite excited by the deeper understanding.”

Speaking To Myself

I hang around the until the end, helping to clean up the porch while observing as Keith continues to talk with one young man who refuses to back down in his self-defense and arguments against what I see as Keith’s beautiful and perfect handling of a very interesting situation on the porch. Keith handles the difficult situation with peaceful grace.

Before Tim leaves, I pull him aside and thank him from the bottom of my heart for how he has, in the second consecutive ceremony, played an integral role in my process.

“Thank you for the superhero metaphor,” Tim grins back at me, indicating how my words had also deeply helped him.

“In many ways you are still acting like Clark Kent,” I point out an observation to Tim, “but you are Superman, Wolverine, Spiderman, and all of those magical heroes combined … trust yourself … ignore all of the craziness that shut you down … trust your magic.”

I realize that as I speak these words to Tim, I am also speaking a profound truth to myself – a truth that I need to hear.

I soon wrap my arms around this beautiful young man to give him a short hug. I have a standing rule that I rarely break – a rule that I do not release a hug until the other person does so first. My heart giggles as this beautiful and blossoming young man hangs on with genuine warmth for nearly ten minutes. I love hugs.

Density-Dominated Ego

As I later finish a dinner of yummy rice and beans, I have an “aha moment” while briefly meditating about an amazing day.

“Healthy masculine energy is in no way related to distorted rational-mind control,” I ponder with a burst of insight. “True masculine energy includes the healthy strength and power that I require to fuel and power my heart.”

“And yes, rational mind is healthy too – it is simply not the tool to use for most inner work,” I giggle with insight. “That dominating, doubting, needing-validation voice that has controlled my life is NOT my masculine side, nor is it my rational mind. THAT voice is the density-dominated ego that masquerades and pretends to be those other parts of me – giving them a bad reputation while confusing me and causing more inner self-hatred and dysfunction.”

From Sordid To Inspired

In a breath of fresh air, I am able to spend Thursday, June 7, in a combination of very intense writing, social discussion, and even participating with Keith in a Skype chocolate ceremony involving a group of five young friends back in Utah.

I love the evening Skype session – a session where I am able to maintain a beautiful high-energy connection – and I giggle at the fact that I have been able to spend a peaceful day of writing while lovingly integrating many distractions. It is not until Friday morning, however, that I finish final touches on one of my most intense and difficult-to-write blogs ever – one titled “Sordid Social Secrets.”

It is profoundly healing and integrating to finally share that story with the world – a story of how a confused twelve-year-old Bobby literally destroyed his social confidence, creating a lifelong nightmare for himself in one single act of unspeakable curiosity.

I find deep peaceful closure as I finally click the publish button on this once-frightening piece of writing. My shame has been shared with the world – a shame that is now replaced by profound self-love and deep intuitive clarity – clarity that such a horrifying experience was a divinely guided and supporting part of my chosen life path, and that as painful as it was, it actually served me in ways I can not possibly fathom.

Not My Own

The Friday afternoon chocolate ceremony repeats a pattern that has recently boggled my mind. As I assist in distributing the chocolate to the group, I note with interest that there are ten men and only three women present, including me. And one of those women, while quite feminine, has a very left-brain, rational-mind, masculine air about her.

As I sit looking around the porch, I ponder the obvious metaphor of a porch dominated by masculine energy, curious as to how this fact may affect the flow of my process today.

To my delight, during the “Glow Meditation,” Tim again begins to access deep laughter – pure little-boy happiness. As it did on Wednesday, Tim’s energy begins to rub off on me, and I decide to ride his wave.

As I quietly giggle, I am feeling connected to Higher Energies, but I also experience a deep feeling of being stuck – a feeling that flows through me with power. I postulate that this is emotion that I am “reading from others” – that maybe it comes from many of the stuck men on the porch. (This is not a judgment – it is a perceptive observation.)

I struggle not to judge myself for having these perceptions, because the emotions are so strong that I find it hard not to believe they are my own.

Stuck Heavy Energy

After opening meditations, Keith first engages in inner work with one of the women on the porch – helping her in a layer of beautiful growth and opening. Keith then surprises me when he randomly turns back to work with me. 

“I am feeling a lot of that joy and connection to the light again today,” I explain my state to Keith. “I am trying to remain in that high-rise vibration … but I’m really struggling today with what feels like a strong feeling of stuck-ness and resistance flowing through me. I do not believe it is mine, but the emotion is overwhelming.”

To my delight, Keith quickly confirms that I am acting as a ground for the energies of the group – that the stuck energy that I feel is NOT mine – that I am picking it up from an intense stuck-ness on the porch and am having a hard time separating it from my own feelings.

“There is a very strong energy of stuck-ness here today,” Keith then announces to the whole porch.

Keith then turns to work briefly with a man who is dramatically and joyfully swirling energy around the porch. The man first expresses guilt about not working with his own density, but Keith encourages him, telling him that he is doing the same thing that I am doing – trying to help with the stuck energy on the porch today.

Stuck Beginnings

Keith then begins to work with a man who is deeply shut down. The man pretends to be doing some inner work, asking Keith to help him go deeper. But as Keith attempts to guide him, the man argues and begins to scam himself. I perceive the self-scamming situation quite clearly, and am not at all surprised when Keith immediately moves on to work with the next man – simply choosing to not further engage with someone who does not want to listen.

To my shock, the next man, who is a first timer, suddenly starts talking about construction issues. Adding to my shock, Keith engages the man in nonstop construction discussions for more than fifteen minutes.

By now, I see this clearly as being some type of intentional behavior on Keith’s part – an inspired role-play designed to make a point in some way. My interest perks up considerably as I ponder what the message might be for me.

After briefly talking to two more men who also have no interest in doing inner work, Keith moves on to chat with the third woman on the porch.

Reality-Creation Mirrors

“I’m feeling very frustrated today,” the woman begins to angrily complain. “You started doing work with so-and-so (the man who was clearly self-scamming) and then, just when he was about to go somewhere, you ignored him, just walking away. Then you wasted a lot of time talking with the next man about construction.”

“Why are you frustrated?” Keith turns the question back to this woman, not accepting any of the blame that she is throwing at him. “Why don’t you go inside and find out! Imagine a basket in front of you. Use what you find in that basket to help you, blah, blah, blah …”

This woman quickly goes into meditation with an angry look on her face. When, after a few minutes, her eyes are still closed, Keith moves on.

I giggle inside as I realize that I am witnessing an external mirror of something that happened to me more than a year ago – a day when I had expressed deep frustration and annoyance to Keith about huge distractions and disruptions on the porch.

“Brenda,” Keith had responded on that long-ago day, doing so in a way that shocked me. “You created those distractions. Why did you do that?”

That was perhaps the first time I really began to grasp the concept that I actually do create or allow everything in my reality. I love having that initial lesson reinforced in such a beautiful external mirror. In this moment now, I am almost giggling as I clearly recognize that in some way, I am also participating in creating the weirdness on the porch today, and I am eager to discover why.

It Hurts

After working with another young man who actually takes his inner journey seriously, Keith then turns to the next man – a man who immediately launches into a long and nonstop string of storytelling (not Tim).

As I listen to this mind-boggling and distracting storytelling, I am actually beginning to feel quite crazy inside. I clearly see this whole scenario as a beautifully scripted personal episode of “The Muppet Show,” and for a long while now I have been imagining myself sitting with the two older white-haired men in the balcony, cracking jokes as they observe the show – but what I am repeatedly observing is beginning to trigger deep and painful emotions. I cannot stand watching this stage play any longer – even though I clearly KNOW it is a setup personally designed for my benefit. It is emotionally painful and it hurts … it HURTS … I am struggling to observe with non-attachment because the surfacing emotions are powerful.

But at this point, I still do not get it – I still do not understand why I am observing this scenario.

Shocking Insights

Finally, Keith interrupts this incessantly rambling young man, stopping him in his tracks and telling him that his storytelling is how he unloads his empath density.

The young man immediately launches into another defensive round of nonstop storytelling, explaining why he is right, not paying any attention to what Keith just told him. I can clearly see the power of this young man’s head-talk and it is driving me crazy.

“This young man’s emotions are driving me insane,” I ponder silently as I squirm in my seat. “Get out of your fricking head and listen to Keith. I cannot handle your stuck craziness.”

I can’t believe I am thinking these thoughts. The rational-mind chatter really is causing me intense discomfort. The young man’s denial and self-scamming is agonizing. I cannot detach from the reality of it. I want to speak up and stop him myself.

Finally, Keith convinces the young man to stop the stories and to go deeper. As the young man eventually begins to bring in Higher Energies, I too start to feel considerably lighter and more peaceful.

“Wow, I can literally feel, in my own body, the difference in this young man’s energy,” I ponder with giggling shock. “I get it. I am taking on his emotion as REAL EMOTION.”

Eye-Opening Experiential Understanding

“I have spent all of these months wondering when I would figure out how to energetically distinguish the emotions of others, expecting to sense such emotion as some type of energetic vibration that I would learn to interpret,” I ponder with flashing insights. “All of this time I have been feeling those emotions in a way that was so profound and clear that it was driving me crazy. It was so close and personal to me, so common, that I could not see it.”

“I don’t feel the emotions of others via some energetic ‘woo-woo’ vibration,” I reinforce the realization. “I actually feel the emotions of others as if they literally ARE my emotions – MY pain – MY frustration – MY judgment – MY sadness.”

“Duh!” I giggle with delight. “I have been taking in all of this emotional stuff throughout my entire life, thinking that everything I felt was originating inside my own dysfunction – deeply experiencing the pains of others, believing them to be my own.”

“I literally do feel the emotions of others as if they are actually MY emotions,” I repeat to myself several times, hoping to strengthen the lesson.

Compassionate Understanding

Suddenly, it all makes sense. For six months, I have been learning to let my own past childhood and teenage emotions run through me. I am finally quite clear that when I can fully recognize such emotions as not belonging to my present-day reality, and to instead allow them to flow through me with nonattachment and non-identification, that they can be released without becoming reenergized as “being real in the now.”

The same thing is true in working with the densities of others. I need to recognize when something I feel is not my own. Then I can simply feel it and let it flow, without owning it, without internalizing it as my own.

“No wonder I thought I was such a loser as a child,” I ponder with a giggle. “What I felt was profoundly real, and at that age I could not possibly have understood that everything I felt was not mine.”

Almost immediately, I go deep into meditation and focus on sending love and compassion to my inner children – finally understanding in a deeper way what they actually went through. Tears of compassion stream down my cheeks.

Finding The Inner Pain

“Brenda,” Keith soon interrupts. “I can tell you are deeply connected to this young man’s process. Do you want to help him to release this emotional density?”

“Give me a minute,” I ask as I dry up my tears. “This is really powerful for me and I am quite emotional as I send love to my child.”

“Is this why I have had such a hard time on the porch all this time?” I ask after quickly sharing my insights with Keith.

Keith doesn’t answer directly, but I know the answer is yes. Every time I take in someone else’s emotion, I deeply empathize with the pain, believing it to be my own. After digging inside, searching through my own vast personal reservoirs of emotional density, I always find my version of that same pain in me. I do not give up until I heal that pain, feeling it to the core. Because of my God drama and refusal to allow assistance of the light, I have slogged through the swamp, processing every one of these emotions the hard way.

I am so anxious to heal the God drama, to fully allow the assistance of the light, so that I can transmute my own remaining densities to the level where I no longer attach to every empath emotion as being my own.

Running It Through Me

Soon, I join Keith in assisting the young man who had been storytelling on my stage.

I silently express my intent for the emotional energy to come toward me, and to then go up or down to its higher evolvement. But immediately I feel sharp pains in my high heart and lower throat regions.

“Keith, do I still have that metaphorical assemblage point pulled inside so that this density is running through me?” I ask with a grimace.

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith acknowledges, “you HAVE put it back inside you again.”

As I continue assisting, I focus on relaxing my body while asking my heart and my inner children to please help move that energy-collecting center back out in front of my body where it belongs.

“Can you help me understand why I have so many pains in my high heart and throat right now?” I ask Keith.

“The density that is running through you is trying to run up to your crown, but you have it choked off at your throat, and only part of it is moving.” Keith provides beautiful feedback, reassuring me that some of the density is actually leaving me.

An Energetic Experiment

“Shut all of this energetic flow down and see what happens to your solar plexus,” Keith suddenly guides me through an experiment.

I am shocked when, within about ten to twenty seconds, my solar plexus begins to hurt dramatically and I feel quite nauseas. Over time, the intensity of the pains and nausea build stronger and stronger.

“This is what happens when you eat the density,” Keith points out. “What is running through you is trying to go up, but you are restricting it.”

Soon, I reverse the experiment and express my intention for the energy to flow again. I still have blockages and restrictions – making the process less than smooth. But I am thrilled by the added understanding that is already bringing greater clarity.

As I return to work with the young man in front of me, my hands are prickly and tingly – and I simultaneously feel an increasing lightness in my own body, even in the solar plexus.

This experience is totally different from what I have expected things to be like. But the personal experience – one that is unique to me – is very real and undeniable.

True Observation

As Keith moves on to work with someone else, I observe while holding a large smoky-quartz crystal in my lap – a crystal that Keith often tells people has a Higher Being teacher inside. In the past, I have felt frustrated while trying to work with this crystal, expecting it to somehow speak to me, but never receiving any such communication.

Suddenly I realize that I need simply express my intention and then pay attention in a way that I do clearly trust – listening to what I call my intuition.

And wow, the intuitions that result are beautiful!

“I have been trying to observe what I am calling the ‘stage-play’ or ‘Muppet Show’ all these years,” I ponder with sudden clarity. “But all along, what has really been happening is that I have been emotionally EXPERIENCING that ‘Muppet Show’ on the inside. I have been thinking of observation as a rational-mind task, when in reality observation is an intense multidimensional sensory task.”

Wow, what an incredible shift of perception to realize that true observation is not something done with rational mind.

Complicated Clarity

As clarity consumes me – clarity that watching my stage-plays has always been a head-job in the past – my face lights up with giggles as I glance to look at Keith.

At that exact instant, Keith suddenly turns around and grins at me. He even mentions that his guidance tells him that I have learned something new. I quickly respond by eagerly filling him in on my progress.

“You are continuing to unravel the puzzle with deeper and deeper insights and understanding,” Keith congratulates me with a huge grin on his face.

As Keith works with someone else a short while later, I experience another sudden flash of understanding.

“The reason I struggle so much with trying not to judge others, especially when the betrayal energy is triggered, is that when I take something in from someone – it actually hurts – and I resent the pain at a deep subconscious level. I believe the pains to be emotionally attacking me in a very uncomfortable way. It is complicated, but at a deep level, I do know that I felt good before being around that person, and that I later felt painfully wounded after they unloaded their hurtful energy onto me. How could I not judge and blame them.”

“No wonder I have perception so tightly hooked with judgment,” I ponder deeper. “My version of perception causes me to actually hurt in deep ways when perceiving the emotions of others. I am not just perceiving their energy – I am feeling it – and it hurts.”

A Pain In The Neck

As I begin to ponder my journey with judgment and being an empath, I realize that today, I spent the first several hours struggling to remain in the high-rise vibrations. I was clearly feeling that connection to the light – clearly recognizing the unfolding stage play as being exactly that – but still struggling deeply with ever-increasing and inexplicable emotion as I found myself feeling judgment toward stuck people, and then feeling guilty about it.

“How could I not feel such judgment when I was emotionally hurting so much in ways that rational mind could not explain?” I ponder the paradox. “I really want to clean this up … to stop bringing so much emotional pain inside me … to stop believing such emotion to be my own. This gives me quite the incentive.”

As I sit in this motivated-but-painfully-confused state, attempting to meditate in silence, Keith eventually reaches over and touches the back of my neck with his left hand.

At first, nothing happens, but I know there must be a reason he feels guided to share energy with this location on my neck. Immediately, I focus all meditative attention to the same place.

Soon, I feel the pains from the lower front of my throat move further back and up, doing so in small increments. Each time I sense the pains move, I experience a strong “kicked in the stomach” feeling that leaves me almost breathless and deeply emotional. I am not sure what this is about, but WOW, I recognize the feelings that surface as including deep fear and deep emotional pain.

“This is related to taking in density through the third eye and storing it in my solar plexus,” I ponder incoming intuitions. “When that happens, the density has to flow through the neck. It only makes sense that I would have blocked it there.”

Something To Write About

“If I open this reverse flow in my neck, will I hurt even more?” I query Keith with a concerned look.

“Keep observing and following breadcrumbs,” Keith responds with a diversion.

Eventually, as I relax more, I get the intuitive guidance to further connect with the light. As I meditatively invite increased light and love, the energies at the top of my head become more active and I experience what I can only describe as peaceful and cool vibrations – like a breath of cool air – now flowing from the base of my spine all the way to the top of my head. The sensation is nothing extreme – just a nice feeling of vibrating energy that is pleasant and peaceful.

I remain in this beautiful and peaceful place, experiencing this very nice energy, not wanting to move until everyone else leaves.

“Wow, for the second ceremony in a row, you really have something to write about.” Keith soon congratulates me.”

“Yeah,” I respond with amazement.

“You can sit here as long as you like,” Keith shares with a grin as he steps into his kitchen to take care of evening chores.

High-Rise Habitation

Friday evening, after completing notes and gobbling down a quick plate of rice and beans, I want nothing more than to continue basking in the glow of beautiful energy and deep insights.

Saturday, June 9, 2012, as I write and publish “Trust And Anticipation,” I feel what is now a different and unfamiliar flow of energy. It is actually quite pleasant, but very active. The energy is so new and disorienting that I clearly recognize another reason why, as a child, I would have shut it all down.

It has been a beautiful six days of passionately publishing four blogs, while experiencing mind-boggling growth and insights from two very unusual chocolate ceremonies – each of which was highly dominated by the presence of stuck masculine energy.

In both ceremonies, I began by riding the wave of Tim’s joyful laughter, accessing the high-rise habitation of love and light energies – only to find myself later sinking inexplicably into the emotional pains of the group around me. Finally, in each of the similar-but-different experiences, I was able to return to the high-rise, basking in the glow of profound new insights.

Tale Of Two Ceremonies

In that first ceremony, I accessed profound new clarity as to why joy has been so shut down in my life. But as a result of the second, I am finally beginning to understand with complicated clarity, the subtle and confusing way in which my empath abilities have caused me so much pain and confusion throughout my life.

While I have acquired great understanding and experience in areas I never dreamed possible, I continue to have a strong tendency to turn a blind eye to my emotional ‘binge-eating’ – yet I am clearly headed in the right direction. I now understand why I eat so much emotional density, stuffing it in my belly, and believing it to be my own. And I am well on my way toward partnering more closely with the light in clearing out my own densities so that I will be able to work with the emotions of others in a nonattached and non-identified way.

I still seem to run the dense, dark, yucky stuff through me, eating and storing much of it in my solar plexus. But that binge-eating behavior is rapidly being exposed to the light … rapidly on its way out.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

At 12:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, June 3, 2012, I wake up and notice that my living room light is again shining through the cracks in my door. When I get up to investigate, I discover Sufi in a state of excited anxiousness as she quickly explains that there is a large spider by her bed, and she cannot sleep with it there. She has been trying unsuccessfully to capture the young arachnid so that she can take it outside to release it.

I giggle when I see the poor frightened spider. It is one of the large, and usually harmless (unless attacked) wall spiders that are extremely common in this part of Guatemala. This one is perhaps three inches across from leg-tip to leg-tip. It is flat, clings tightly to walls, and can move extremely quickly. I first encountered such a frightening spider while at Las Piramides Del Ka, almost two years ago. I was terrified when I first saw one, but now, when I see them, I just smile and sometimes give them a name.

Ten minutes later, I have successfully captured the poor frightened creature, carrying it outside in a peanut butter jar, before releasing it into the vines on the neighbor’s patio (currently unoccupied). I have to actually shake the jar several times because the poor little guy is so frightened he will not let go.

Firmly Tugging Emotions

After going back to a restful-but-restless sleep, I am finally up for the day at 6:15 a.m., again surprised by how emotions are tugging on my semi-low heart. As I sit at my computer, I experience a fierce tug-of-war between futile feelings of wanting to give up versus a strong desire to be happy and productive. Finally, in frustration, I nearly surrender to the giving up.

“I am so stuck in limbo that I can’t stand it,” I ponder in emotional confusion. “I am too far gone from the old world. I know I cannot go back. I cannot even imagine myself wanting to try to squeeze back into those suffocating walls. Yet I still feel like a total loser in the new world. This new world is polluted by a new-age circus that drives me crazy. There is so much ego … and so much magic … and I cannot tell the difference – so I end up seeing it all as craziness.”

“I do not have my sensitivities fully opened,” I continue pondering, “and I am deep in my God drama, projecting all over Keith, Angela, Paul, and others. I feel abandoned, lost, and not wanting to go forward. I have a huge eraser that obliterates all memories of my positive growth. I have lost my passion to go forward … and I do not trust myself anymore.”

The Eternal Laughing Stock

Even in these overwhelmingly futile emotions, I am able to grasp a tiny recognition that these hopeless emotions do not really stem from present-day circumstances. I trust my flow, and decide to “be where I am” and allow them to consume me. I want to know myself more fully, so that I can allow the emotion to be transmuted rather than reenergizing it in another repeat performance at a later date.

As I surrender to the crazy out-of-proportion emotions, several waves of gut-wrenching teeth-chattering tears and dry heaves rage through me. As the emotions shake my inner world, I recognize them for what they are – another layer of pain from a numb, stuck, hopeless, abandoned teenager (me) – a layer on its way up and out.

As I allow the emotion to flow, it becomes intensely real and convincing – profoundly educational in reminding me of the depths of forgotten and repressed pains from my youth.

“I am a fool to think my journey is taking me anywhere,” I begin to project that hopelessness onto present-day circumstances.

“The more I do inner work, the more I am just humiliated,” I continue projecting. “I am a failure. I have not yet made it, and I will never make it. I will never publish a book, never succeed in my passions, and will never be respected – ever again. Right now I feel like the eternal laughing stock of San Marcos, and of the world.”

These teenage emotions are extremely convincing, feeling as if I will never be free of them, as if I am forever doomed to succumb to their suppressive domination.

Swimming In The Swamp

Finally, after allowing myself to experience another intense episode of regressed and eye-opening emotion, I bring in a little light, managing to stabilize myself in a peaceful place.

Soon, as Sufi steps out into the living room, I put down my book and engage in a beautiful and two-way healing conversation – a conversation that reminds me in many ways of why I am so passionate on healing myself so that I can one day shine my light for others.

When the conversation turns to my frustration over those who want to just throw blankets of joy and light all over their densities, pretending that they are not really there, Sufi shares a profound metaphor that inspires me deeply.

Sufi compares our emotional densities to a swamp.

“There are some people who dance around the swamp, pretending it is not there,” Sufi shares with wisdom. “And then there are people who spend their entire life in the swamp, unable to get out.”

“And then there are those who learn to go swimming in the swamp when needed, and then return to dancing when they are done,” Sufi finishes.

“Wow,” I ponder out loud. “After having spent a large percentage of my last eight months swimming in that swamp, I have become a very strong swimmer … but I really want to learn a few more dance moves.”

The whole metaphor reminds me of one Keith occasionally uses – a story of someone who lives in a dirty, crime-and-cockroach infested neighborhood – a story of how it is preferable to move to a nicer, high-vibration neighborhood before trying to clean up the old house.

All It Takes

“How are you doing, Brenda,” Keith asks me when I step into his kitchen to help prepare for a Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony.

I spend a few minutes filling Keith in on another crazy journey with teenage emotion flowing through me, trying to remain connected to the light with a semblance of sanity.

“I barely managed to maintain a tiny thread of observer awareness as I let that stuff flow through me,” I share with Keith.

“That is all it takes,” Keith reassures me with a smile.

As I finally sit back on my cushions at the start of the ceremony, I begin my process almost immediately.

Protected Personal Space

A very nice thirty-something young man decides to occupy the pillow directly to my left. But he does not sit in the middle of his pillow. He instead sits on the right edge, and then crosses his long legs such that his right knee is protruding deeply into my personal space.

Immediately, I intuitively sense an intense energy of what I perceive as dysfunctional masculine behavior – a behavior of “marking” his space – a masculine energy that is literally overwhelming me. I know the young man is oblivious to his behavior – that he is innocent and genuine in his heart – but I clearly sense an underlying subconscious mandate for him to dominate and announce his presence to me, unknowingly exerting his masculine power over me.

As I ponder whether or not I might be just imagining this, making it all up, I realize that it does not matter. Regardless of true facts, this is triggering something very deep in me – something that I am eagerly prepared to explore.

As I look at the man to again confirm his genuine heart, I feel a dominant intensity in his energy that cannot be described. I then look at all the other men on the porch. I clearly perceive that this intensity is not coming from anywhere else … it is all from this beautiful man on my left.

I scoot my pillow several inches to the right, further blocking the entrance to Keith’s kitchen. Seconds later, I note that the man’s pillow has again moved closer to me. Not only is he following me, but he leans at least six inches to the right, so that his head and right shoulder are also crowding me.

I move over a second time … and again he further crowds me. When I again move, he crosses his legs even wider. I see that his behavior is totally innocent, that he is not even aware of what he is doing – but I feel deeply dominated by his unconscious refusal to grant me my protected personal space.

A Metaphorical Mother

This “space-hogging” and “space-invading” behavior persists for a very long time. I clearly see the whole scenario as a beautifully orchestrated and almost humorous stage play, being acted out for my benefit.

The whole experience takes me deeply into a painful agonizing journey into further understanding how dysfunctional masculine energy has dominated my life, pushing and smothering me under its influence.

As I gaze around the porch, I note with interest that eight of the eleven people now present in the ceremony are men. In fact, we have had an unusually high percentage of men on the porch lately. Even so, not one of the other men on the porch triggers me – other than the handsome young man who is again nearly on top of me.

“My mother had this dysfunctional masculine energy,” I soon ponder a realization from a few ceremonies back. “Her energy dominated my life with masculine power, fixing energy, control, manipulation, and keeping me in line – all done with the purest of intentions – all done in the name of God while trying to mold me into a righteous child. She was doing the best she could, and I gave away all of my power to her.”

“This young man on my left is metaphorically playing my mother for me in profound ways,” I giggle and cringe at the same time.

Unable To Smile

Soon, I observe a beautiful young woman who is giggling across the porch.

By now, inner emotions swell so strongly that I deeply struggle to maintain a connection to the light. An incredible swirl of teenage emotional nightmare is again flowing through me – a flow that is extremely agitating and emotionally painful.

I have established a nice energy connection from my crown down to my heart, but still I struggle to bring in enough light to maintain observer status. I am cycling between going ever deeper while focusing on not getting lost in the swirling swamp.

As I again observe the young woman giggling across the porch, Keith looks at me. I briefly lock eyes with him, and shrug my shoulders in deep frustrated struggle.

“Smile, Brenda,” Keith encourages me in a way that feels more like a loving order.

Suddenly the woman and another young man across the porch burst into strong and loud giggles. I know they are purely in their own energy – but I take this as an innocent childhood reenactment of me being teased and “made fun of” for not being able to smile.

Shame About Smiles

Suddenly, intuitions take me to several agonizing memories from childhood – memories of not being able to smile.

The first memories are clear emotions of how I felt when posing for the camera at age six. It was my first-grade school photo, and I was deeply self-conscious because I absolutely knew that I did not know how to smile right.

“How would I as a six-year-old child come to believe that I did not smile correctly?” I ponder with questioning shock.

“At such a tender young age,” the intuitive clarity flows, “the only reason for believing such an absurd lie is if someone had already teased and taunted me, making me feel shameful about the way I smiled and/or was not able to smile.”

Then I recall how, when I was very young, people used to encourage my sister to go into deep belly laughs because of how much they loved her ability to laugh. I remember feeling deeply jealous, wishing I could laugh like that, absolutely knowing that I could not … that I did not dare even trying to do so. Belly laughing was out of the question. I would be so shamefully embarrassed. Such memories are very clear, but I can only speculate as to the exact age. Circumstances lead me to believe I was no more than five years old, or perhaps even younger, when such insecurities already ran rampant in my tiny broken heart.

“I would never have felt so stupid about how I smiled if someone had not made fun of me for the way I did not, or could not, do it correctly,” I again ponder with profound clarity.

“Wow,” I continue pondering. “I know my older brother teased me ruthlessly. Perhaps this came from him. And I know I cried a lot. Perhaps I simply could not smile because of all the intense empath emotion … and perhaps I was just taunted and ridiculed for not being able to smile through all the sadness.”

Childhood Projections

The emotions I now feel in the midst of this self-exploration are so strong that I desperately want to burst into tears. I struggle to maintain a connection to the light as this emotional journey takes me deeper.

But I do not feel safe opening the tear floodgates. Several recent criticizing attacks from others, along with gossip around town, have caused me to feel deeply self-conscious about public tears. I know I am projecting childhood “fear of crying” onto others, but in the past week, it feels as if even Keith has slammed me for allowing the emotions to flow.

I decide to follow this childhood projection idea a little deeper.

“As a child, I really was not allowed to cry,” I ponder clear memories of crying uncontrollably while my mother tried to ‘help’ me to stop.

“I was scolded and made fun of for being a crybaby,” I ponder, “teased and emotionally tortured for crying with no reason. I clearly remember my mother’s loving impatience and frustration when I cried, and I absolutely recall my intense fear of my brother’s ‘harmless’ teasing.”

I valiantly continue this deep-swamp diving, barely hanging on to an observer thread. The emotions are so intense that I feel quite insane and crazy – but I dive even deeper.

Time To Work

Soon, my heart glows with gratitude when I glance up and notice that Keith is reaching out his left hand shaped in a slightly cupped formation, focusing a flow of energy in my direction.

A few minutes later, he places that same hand on the top of my crown, holding it there, sharing beautiful energy with me for at least fifteen minutes. Finally, as I feel my energy stabilizing, Keith lifts his hand from the top of my head and backs away slightly, eventually removing his hand entirely.

When I am finally energetically stable, I glance up at Keith, make eye contact, and note that he is grinning back at me.

“Alrighty then, let’s start some individual work,” Keith immediately pipes in as he stands up.

I find it hard to believe that I have already done so much processing, yet we have just finished the “Glow Meditation” plus perhaps a half hour of silent meditation.

“Brenda, how are you doing today?” Keith asks before quickly disappearing into the kitchen, not giving me an opportunity to reply.

A Dangling Plug

A minute later, Keith returns to the porch and sits on the ground in front of me. I quickly fill him in on the “masculine energy” and “mother/brother” insights, while not sharing any information regarding the man on my left who made it all possible.

“As a child, I was ridiculed for being in joy, and ridiculed for crying,” I share profound insight with Keith.

“Congratulations for your primo processing,” Keith respond with a grin. “Take the joy thing to a different level … expand this understanding to other areas.”

For several minutes, Keith guides me in meditation, trying to help me find the place where I disconnected my joy.

“I am feeling, and even almost seeing a visual of an electric cord coming out my nail-in-my-heart spot, dangling with a disconnected plug that just hangs in front of me,” I soon share unexpected insights. “Because of the pains in my solar plexus, I get the feeling that this cord is supposed to be plugged in there.”

“Good, Brenda,” Keith responds before moving on. “Work with that.”

Sheer Timing

I struggle for a while, trying to imagine the cord being plugged back into my solar plexus, but I am unable to complete the visualization. Finally, after a long while, I just fake it and imagine myself forcing the metaphorical electric plug back into its proper place. With continued imagination, I hold the cord securely.

As I engage in this meditative process, I experience considerable pains in my solar plexus – most of which were already manifesting before the meditation – but now the pains are spreading, down the center of my belly, through the belly button, and all the way to the bottom of my abdomen.

“Whenever I begin to want to express joy, I find myself second guessing as to whether or not it is safe to do so,” Intuitive feelings suddenly flood my mind. “I am terrified that expressing joy will result in someone making me feel stupid, maybe even ridiculing me, etc…”

Within two seconds of this insight flashing into my mind, Keith, who is now across the porch, suddenly turns around with a glowing glance.

“What’s up?” He asks with profound recognition.

His sheer synchronous timing clearly tells me that he is paying close attention to my energy.

A Pushed-Out Self

After acknowledging Keith’s perfect timing, I explain my fresh profound insights.

“Take that ‘joy’ metaphor even deeper, into other areas of your life,” Keith again encourages before returning to what he was doing across the porch.

“This was not just about my joy,” I get a sudden insight about ten minutes later. “It also encompassed all creative, intuitive, right-brained, heart-based, imaginative expression. Before allowing myself to engage in any such activities, I always flinched (and still do) with fearful wondering if my expression would be received as genuinely intended, or if it would get me into trouble in some unexpected way.”

“I was absolutely terrified to do anything creative like that,” I ponder while actually experiencing the inner fright.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me a few minutes later. “Find a way to bring back some of that ‘pushed-out self’ that you lost as a child. Ask your Higher Self to help you.”

I clearly know that Keith is encouraging me to engage in what many shamans call soul retrieval – but as Keith describes it, nothing was actually lost. Instead, in an effort to protect precious energetic parts of me from harmful scarring, I pushed them out as a child, leaving them in the care of a loving Higher Self for safekeeping.

Chocolate Necco Wafers

As I engage in the process, expressing my intent for the assistance of my Higher Self, I also invite my little inner children, Bobby and Sharon, to join me in my heart … asking them to giggle and be joyful with me … to help pushed-out parts of us to return.

Soon, new subconscious metaphors begin to guide me.

I suddenly realize that, as a child (and an adult), I did not have much sweetness or joy in my life. Giggling intuitions quickly guide me to find a fun and very sweet metaphorical way to bring this energy back inside me, from the crown to my root chakra.

I first imagine one of my favorite childhood candies, yummy chocolate Necco wafers. I also enjoyed the non-chocolate varieties, but the chocolate variety was my absolute preference.

In smiling meditation, I feel the thin wafers dissolving in a flavorful burst on my tongue before crunching down with my teeth on their chalky texture – soon swallowing them slowly down my throat, all the way to my stomach and lower chakras – magically bringing sweetness and joy back to all of the chakras along the way.

Then, I imagine a small column of chocolate Necco wafers stacked on each of my chakras, feeling them absorb into my energy field. Next, I bring in a black licorice image that lines a channel from crown to root. At the top of the licorice channel, I imagine a funnel into which I pour a bubbling root beer float into the core of that licorice tube.

I play with this “sweetness” metaphor for a long while.

Playful, Imaginative Memories

Suddenly, new intuitive guidance takes me to the age of ten … when I first moved from Western Colorado to a small rural farming town in the deserts of central Washington State.

Clear memories begin to flow through me – memories reminding me of how, as a tender fifth grade boy, I almost always hung out with the girls while on the playground during recess. While the rest of the boys were off doing whatever macho things they did, I was playing make-believe with the girls. One of my favorite activities was creating an imaginary house on the playground field, lining walls and entryways with sticks or coats. Then we would role-play a family, engaging in play-acting while joyfully giggling and fantasizing. The only thing I would have changed is that I hated the implied expectation that I always had to play the role of father or brother … but I did not dare suggest otherwise.

Only one or two other boys ever joined me in playing with the girls. It was not until sixth grade, at age eleven, when I began to realize that felt ostracized and confused by how I did not fit in with the boys.

“As an innocent ten-year-old, I still had an imagination.” I ponder with surprise. “I had a fun and silly personality, and I loved teasing people. I clearly remember laughing in the classroom, and being quite social with the girls – and I clearly remember not relating to the games and activities of the boys. In fact, I believed some of their behaviors were stupid and even appalling.”

A Spark Of Joy

“It was somewhere between age ten and early age eleven when this final imagination and playfulness were slammed out of me,” I ponder with profound clarity. “It was not until I was ridiculed, ostracized, and teased for being different – most of which was done in a very casual and subtle way – that I began to close the final doors on my magical self. By early age eleven, long before the gender struggles consumed me, that playful magic became my horrifying self-hatred and shame. In fact, it was only after the outward feminine behavior was squelched that the gender struggles turned inward.”

Until this meditation, I had mostly forgotten how I had been such a feminine, playful, and teasing boy. Prior to age ten, I felt happy and accepted while surrounded by people with whom I grew up. It was only after moving states and schools – going through puberty while trying to fit in with new friends – that I began to recognize and reject my own magical and sensitive feminine side.

To put things back in perspective, I clearly remind myself that I was obviously extremely self-conscious as a young first-grader – already deeply shut down and conditioned by culture and religion – already a rule robot striving to win the love and approval of mother and God.

“But at age ten,” I remember with a grin, “I really did have a small spark of that inner joy still glowing inside. Even with all the painful conditioning, some of my joy and imagination had survived – only to be destroyed later.”

Inappropriate Anger

The beautiful insights continue flowing while high vibration energy saturates my soul.

Meanwhile, I start to pay close attention when Keith begins to work with a young man – one that I will call Tim. Almost immediately after receiving the focus, Tim begins to share details of his life story, rambling incessantly as he shares story after story of feeling like an alien, not fitting in, suffering social fears and dysfunction, being ignored, etc…

It is obvious that this young man has suffered greatly from the prejudices of others – both cultural and racial. A man in the group suggests that he needs to get angry to help move out some of the pain. Many begin to tone various sounds, encouraging him to do the same.

“I just do not feel safe doing that right now,” Tim responds humbly.

“Come on Tim,” Paul suddenly jumps in with an angry yell, “go into the anger, you need to yell and scream, blah, blah, blah. Your culture has a history of repressing their anger, blah, blah, blah.”

Paul’s energy is filled with personal rage – rage that to me feels extremely inappropriate for this level of work. He is almost yelling AT Tim rather than encouraging him to safely access his angry emotions.

Restoring Power

Suddenly another beautiful young man from the same cultural background jumps into the conversation. I will call this young man “Lee.”

“Paul,” Lee protests with firmness. “I really wish you would stop using that generalized metaphor about my culture. It is just not true.”

To my shock, Paul begins screaming with rage, ranting and angrily defending himself for a couple of minutes, insisting that he is right and that Lee has no right to attack him.

Lee soon lashes back in self-defense, causing Paul to again scream in attack. Lee soon disengages, showing energetic signs and facial expressions of feeling dejected, rejected, confused, and stunned. As I observe, I giggle while remembering my own “Profound Glimpse Of Grace” that I just barely finished publishing – a situation where Paul had screamed even more viciously at me.

“Lee … take your power back,” I soon jump in with loving advice. “You have let go of the high vibrations that you were in just a few minutes ago.”

“But I don’t want to engage in more yelling,” Lee replies with confusion.

“No, I respond with a giggle. “It is not done that way. You gave away your power on the inside by engaging in the defensive exchange. Take back your power on the inside. Find your INNER connection to that power … to your Source.”

Lee quickly resonates with my words, and goes into deep inner meditation. Remembering my own glimpse of grace, I radiate loving energy in Lee’s direction while he gradually returns to a glowing radiant energy of his own.

Re-Glimpsing Grace

“That was NOT tiger energy,” Keith firmly reprimands Paul.

Keith then spends several minutes speaking to the group, teaching about how both love and anger can have healthy and unhealthy expressions – sharing how both are healthy when expressed appropriately, and both are unhealthy when expressed inappropriately.

In the interest of privacy, I will spare the details … but I am deeply gratified when Keith spends a while discussing behaviors in generic ways, lovingly trying to make a point that could be ignored by someone who is not open to hearing the truth … and that could be deeply useful for someone honestly willing to look inside.

As the palpable tension on the porch begins to settle, I continue to light up with radiating, glowing energy. I am deeply energized by the whole experience, repeatedly returning to that glimpse-of-grace sensation of how wonderful it feels to bask in Divine love while not taking such external situations and energies personally.

I giggle inside when I see that Lee is now smiling again. Soon, Tim resumes his incessant and rambling storytelling.

A Beloved Mirror

It is a beautiful continuous monolog of sharing.

At first I am surprised that Keith simply sits back and allows Tim to share stories like this – but it soon becomes clear to me that not only is this profoundly therapeutic for Tim, but it is deeply inspiring my own process.

Literally everything that this beautiful-but-shutdown young man says about his being a social reject, not fitting in, feeling people’s prejudice, being called ‘girly’, etc… – literally everything (at least at the emotional level) describes ME in my youth – externally mirroring my youth in profound clarity.

“Tim, I am so grateful for your sharing,” I interrupt at one appropriate breaking point. “I relate so deeply to all of your pains. They are NOT silly like you imply. I feel honored to hear your story.”

Tim goes on and on. I love and inhale every word. I imagine myself filling my heart with overflowing radiant love for this young man, seeing him as the mirror of my beloved Bobby as a ten-year-old, and as an older teenager.

Internalizing Mirrored Love

As my heart radiates, I feel the love consume that nail-in-my-heart spot.

“Heart,” I silently request, “I do not have a clue how to work with this love … but I know that you do. Please, do what you do best.”

I feel deep power in my heart as I step out of rational mind, surrendering control to another part of me.

Without exchanging a single word, Keith suddenly looks over at me and glows a huge grin at what I am doing.

Eventually, I focus the same metaphor, asking my heart to bring in intense self-love.

“If I can love this external reflection so profoundly, seeing Tim with such love, realizing that I can love this mirror of Bobby without conditions,” I ponder with power, “then I can also find that same love for Bobby on the inside.”

I spend the entire remainder of this beautiful chocolate ceremony focusing on both self-love and external unconditional love. When I feel energetically lacking, I ask Higher Self to please ramp the energies up a level. I still feel as I am not at full strength, that there is more to come – but I accept myself where I am at, radiating what I have in this moment.

A Superhero

I can only giggle that Tim is still talking when the ceremony finally winds down to closure.

“Sometimes I wish I were a superhero,” Tim shares a genuine desire.

“Tim,” I interrupt, “just like Peter Parker or Clark Kent, there IS a very magical and powerful Superman or Spiderman-like superhero inside of you. Believe that … trust that.”

As these words leave my lips, I realize that such magic also resides in me, as it does in all of us.

Giggling While Gobbling

When the ceremony concludes, I hang back to share details of my amazing journey with Keith.

“Thanks for such beautiful examples of being present in the way you handled the group today,” I grin with profound sincerity. “I learned so much by observing the way you worked with me, how you allowed Tim to ramble in his beautiful process, and in how you handled Paul’s angry outburst. All of it was perfect. The entire porch today was a beautiful and personal stage play for me. Every single person seemed to play a magical role in my own process.”

“Your work today was really powerful,” Keith congratulates me with a grin as I begin to walk away.

As I walk homeward bound, I revel in the memory of how, early in the ceremony, Keith had looked at me and mentioned that I was doing “primo processing.” But I realize I was only following the flow. I showed up with an open heart and mind, responding from my heart to every clue and situation that was presented in the mirror.

It all started when feeling invaded by the unconscious “space marking” of masculine energy. It flowed from one step to the next, guided by external reflections and inner intuitions, taking me to deep insights of joyful memories around age ten. And I can only giggle when I ponder how a beautiful young man provided me an external mirror of that beautiful young boy named Bobby – one that I am finally beginning to truly love.

“Wow,” I giggle as I gobble down a plate of rice and beans, feeling energies, and glowing with hope.

“What an amazing day!” I smile with a hint of pure joy. “It was a day filled with magical metaphors and inner mirrors that guided me with synchronous precision. I could never have dreamed up such an experience with rational mind.”

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Friday morning, June 1, 2012, is a day I have been eagerly anticipating for almost nine months after learning that my dear friend Isaias – a beautiful young man who has worked full time for Keith for more than eight years – was studying to be a Sacerdote (saw-sair-DOE-tay) Maya. The direct translation of this would be Mayan Priest – but in English, we would more likely translate this as Mayan Shaman.

Today is Isaias’s graduation, and I feel deeply honored to be among a small group of Westerner’s that were invited to participate. I really have no idea what to expect of the ceremony. In my mind, I envision a small gathering with Isaias, his teacher, a few family members and more close friends – and I expect a small fire ceremony followed with perhaps a few congratulatory talks at the end.

Shortly before 7:00 a.m., I walk to a restaurant where the group is gathering before climbing a nearby hill to a sacred ceremonial site. At first, we are only a small group waiting for Isaias’s beautiful teacher (A Mayan Priestess) to arrive. But at around 8:00 a.m., I am amazed when a group of at least 25 or 30 additional people show up wearing colorful ceremonial clothing, carrying musical instruments, large drums, and even a full-size Guatemalan marimba (a very large wooden xylophone).

Spectacular And Amazing

Soon, our large group of around 40 or 50 people begins a steep trek up a nearby hill. I giggle when I realize that several men are actually carrying the marimba up the rough and rugged trail. I assist by carrying one end of a box – a box that is so heavy that I can only carry my end about halfway up the hill. To my shock, when I express my tiredness, Isaias grabs the box and throws it over his shoulder, as if it is a box of feathers.

At around 9:30 a.m., the ceremony finally begins. I am completely unprepared for what is clearly the most magical and authentic ceremonial experience of my life.

At least six to eight other Mayan Shamans from all around the region join us in the festivities – each dressed in colorful and unique traditional outfits. The pageantry is amazing and beautifully choreographed, and the fire ceremony is unlike any I have ever seen.

Intermingled with sacred ceremony, there is repeated speaking from the heart (some Spanish, most in Mayan dialect), frequent live marimba music, drumming, a dance performance in ancient Mayan costumes, group dancing in a huge circle around the fire, colorful authentic clothing, and more heartfelt sharing from other spiritual leaders.

The spectacular and amazing spiritual celebration goes on for several hours. As each moment unfolds, I feel more privileged and gifted by the honor of being present in such a sacred experience. Given the special circumstances surrounding my unique friendship with Isaias, I can only assume that witnessing such an event is not a common opportunity available to most foreigners.

Courage To Trust

I am so deeply proud of my young friend – so honored to be included. At the end of the ceremony, the entire group again gathers in a huge circle. I eagerly await the opportunity to hug Isaias, his beautiful wife, his teacher, and others.

“Brenda, thank you so much for being here,” Isaias shares from his heart when we finally connect. “I consider you to be a part of my family.”

My heart melts into a pile of grateful mush at receiving such beautiful words.

I resonate with the deep emotional heartache that I soon observe as Isaias hugs many close family members. While Isaias’s deceased grandfather was also a Mayan Priest, literally all of the rest of his family – including the vast majority of all the indigenous people in San Marcos – have converted to be either devout Catholics or members of one of several Evangelical religions.

I can tell by emotion and facial expressions, that these dear family members struggle with the same anguish that many of my own family members have faced when I walked away from my own family religion (and much more), choosing instead to follow my heart (as Isaias is doing) in a direction that takes me far away from the beliefs of those I dearly love.

I honor my young friend for having the courage to trust his own heart.

Dancing Energies

The ceremony runs long, and after rushing home for a quick change of clothes, I do not arrive on Keith’s magical porch until shortly after 1:00 p.m.. Keith himself had also spent the morning witnessing the magical events, but had left when the hugs began.

A total of thirteen show up, and since all present have participated in previous ceremonies, Keith opts to forgo all introductory speeches and meditations. After drinking my own yummy chocolate, I close my eyes and go straight into meditation while Keith guides a few others. I cannot help but notice that Keith skips me when working randomly around the porch – but I trust deeply that this is my own creation – one helping me to trust myself and to further lessen my dependence on outside guidance.

I quietly observe my energies. I am in a beautiful flow today. Soon, I feel a distinct and very physical energy that forms a vertical column – one that runs from the bottom of my sternum to the base of my throat. This tingling and vibrating energy gradually expands, consuming the front of my throat. I begin to experience various mild pains, telling me that something is energetically trying to open, but part of me is slightly resisting.

Then I feel another wave of similar pains spreading around the high heart (upper chest) region as I frequently experienced in late December and most of January. Feeling no doubts, I simply trust the flow, stay out of my head, focus on self-love, invite Higher Love and Light to assist, and observe the amazing dancing energies in my body.

Anxious Observation

I bask in this beautiful energy for a very long time while Keith mostly meditates in silence as well – occasionally working with this or that person.

At around 2:00 p.m., Keith stands up and briefly excuses himself, indicating that he needs to go down to the garden to talk to his construction workers. Their shift is over and they need to go home for the weekend. When he returns, Keith indicates that the workers are going to store all of their tools in his bodega (small storage shed by the porch), and asks people to help move all of their personal belongings out of the way in order to make room for the tools.

As several people jump up to move shoes and bags, I remain on my seat while observing the items being passed out onto the porch. I begin to feel a little anxious about whether my bag has been moved, not wanting it to become trapped behind the tools.

Annoyed Frustration

“Is my bag still hanging on the hook?” I ask Keith when the commotion begins to die down.

“No, Brenda,” Keith responds, “I handed everything out to people, and it got put somewhere, either on the porch or in the house.”

“But I don’t see it anywhere,” I ask with nervous concern. “Are you sure it is not still there?”

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith replies with a tone of frustration. “Don’t worry … it is somewhere on the porch or in the house.”

I still do not see my bag or shoes, and finally, feeling quite nervous, I stand up and walk to the bodega to see for myself. After confirming that my stuff really isn’t there, I check all around the porch. When my belongings are still missing, I walk into Keith’s kitchen and make a visual scan of the area. My stuff is nowhere to be found and I am beginning to feel quite annoyed.

“Don’t worry about it, Brenda,” Keith again tells me. “Your stuff is somewhere.”

As I sit back on my pillow, I am feeling deeply frustrated, but choose to stuff my feelings and not make a further scene.

A Toothpaste Trigger

I soon begin to realize that this is another childhood trigger – one just like that silly tube of travel toothpaste that Sufi used up and threw away (see blog: A Toothpaste Tale). I also clearly recognize signs of my own self-created stage play.

I attempt to just ignore the deep emotions, clearly seeing that this is again triggering pain from a childhood inability to have my own possessions, opinions, and beliefs – and that my precious treasures were not valued by others (especially my mother). When I tried to protect my stuff, others invariably slammed me, scolded me, invalidated me, shamed me, and much worse.

I was made to feel crazy and stupid for wanting to protect and know the whereabouts of the special things I valued.

As I recognize the truth behind this intense beautifully orchestrated trigger, the anxiety churning in my stomach is now extremely intense.

“Brenda, how are you doing?” Keith finally interrupts the silence with perfect timing.

Hesitant Feedback

“I am back in that childhood God drama stuff,” I respond. “Just like that toothpaste thing a few days ago, I am deep into feeling, even more painfully, the invalidation for wanting to have and protect my own belongings and opinions … the agony of how I was literally slammed for trying to defend my property and feelings.”

“Good, Brenda,” Keith congratulates me with a huge smile. “Go into the feelings. It is very important not to push them down.”

“May I say something,” Angela pipes in.

I hesitate to go give permission, because I fear she may provide harsh feedback.

“Yes,” I finally respond. “Please say whatever you need to say.”

“I’m surprised you did not get up and look for your stuff sooner. I felt your panic almost immediately.”

Unexpected Validation

“I feel so stupid,” I speak up several minutes later. “This is so silly. I know my stuff is somewhere either in the bodega or on the porch … but I just cannot see it or find it.”

“Brenda, this is absolutely NOT silly,” Keith surprises me, “it was extremely painful as a child … deeply invalidating and filling you with panic about not being allowed to have your own stuff, opinions, and feelings, etc…”

I feel deeply grateful for Keith’s profoundly validating feedback. I was already projecting that, in the eyes of other people on the porch, that I should feel humiliated for appearing to be a fool with such silly anxiety.

Soon, Keith gently asks someone to go into the bodega to see if they can locate my bag and shoes. A minute later, they find my stuff hidden underneath another backpack that someone had left right by the door. Keith denies it, but I half suspect that he had been guided to hide it there.

Two Realities

“I do feel like a fool for having such silly anxiety,” I ponder silently. “But I also deeply understand the profound emotion as this childhood stuff is coming up and flowing through me in this new regression.”

The intense emotion now flowing through me is so overwhelming that I struggle not to identify with it as being real … not to identify with it as my present-day reality. I am so overwhelmed with the pain that I am close to tears. My abdomen is rocking and churning with intense sensations of a severe panic attack.

Yet, at the same time, I remain deeply connected to Higher Energies, continuing to experience a two-inch-wide channel of beautiful energy flowing between my heart and my throat, with more beautiful vibrations in my crown and third-eye regions.

“Brenda,” Keith soon chimes in again. “This is another opportunity to practice remaining connected to the light while allowing other-dimensional reality emotions to run through you. Remain connected to the light.”

Keith soon moves back into silent meditation while I further immerse myself into this intense journey right through the middle of a panic attack – one highlighted by the fact that I feel beautiful energies in my body at the exact same time. Feeling no self-judgment, I instead overflow with self-love and self-acceptance as I focus on allowing and surrendering to the flow of my process.

Rational Mind Is Not The Tool

Finally, when a young man speaks up and asks for guidance, I observe with interest when Keith soon repeats something I have heard hundreds of times.

“The rational mind is not the tool,” Keith shares this familiar and often frustrating phrase.

But today, something is different … something inside clicks. Even when trying to just surrender and allow, my mind is constantly active trying to figure out my next move … “trying” to surrender … “trying” to create metaphors when I should just be experiencing energies.

“I know the flow is taking me where I want to go,” I ponder with clarity. “Why can I not trust the flow and just believe that the Higher Energies know exactly what to do … that my heart knows exactly what to do … that I do not need to figure anything out with my head … that if I do need to do something via metaphors or other processes I will receive inner guidance telling me to do so.”

Intuitive Subconscious Guidance

Soon, I feel guided to imagine myself floating in a rubber raft, just drifting down a river with no worries. The sun is shining on me as someone hands me a refreshing drink. I glide peacefully with no need to steer or be in control.

After a while, intuitions guide me to imagine myself climbing out of the raft, directly into the water, floating on my back in those calm flowing waters.

To my delight, as I imagine this scene, I literally feel the sensation of energy saturating my back, wrapping around the edges of my head, neck, torso, and legs – exactly as if I were surrendering and actually doing a back float in a real lake.

As I further relax into this scene, letting my head lay back, allowing my hair to get wet, strong emotions of panic consume my abdomen – fearful emotions of losing control.

“This is quite profound,” I giggle silently. “When real emotions are triggered while working with subconscious images, this is deep confirmation that what I am doing is quite real at an energetic and emotional level.”

Exploring Fears

I play with this metaphor for at least an hour, drifting in and out of mild anxious feelings while imagining myself in various states of floating and surrender.

Soon the water instead becomes a lake of light, allowing me to breathe even when my mouth is below the surface. I sense this metaphor as an incredible way of simply surrendering to the light … trusting the light … knowing that I will be Ok and that the water/light knows what I need and how to help me as I merely drift with the flow. I do not utilize my mind except when responding to guidance.

Finally, I share what I am doing with Keith, who suggests using a small metaphorical air mattress or other floating aid to help remove the fears I am experiencing.

I honor Keith’s suggestion, and play with that metaphor, but intuitions tell me it is not necessary. The fears are not that strong, and I feel as if they are actually being released … that the fears are an integral part of my process.

Awakening Energy Flow

Soon, I note that the “squeamy” sensations (combination of squirming and screaming) in my arms are becoming quite intense. I attempt to further relax, and as I do so, the anxiety in my stomach deeply intensifies. In the beginning, I see these sensations as emotional density, anxiety, and fear … and I focus on further surrendering, allowing more light and self-love.

But after a while, an intuitive feeling surfaces – one telling me that the anxious energetic feelings I am experiencing are instead related to the anxiety of how I would feel when a sleeping foot is first beginning to wake up.

“Perhaps the relaxing of my head, arms, and legs, is allowing energy to begin to flow in my lower chakras?” I ponder. “The energy flow in those areas has been blocked for decades. The sensation of flowing energy in my abdomen is so uncomfortable and unusual that it is likely triggering painful memories of why I shut this all down in the first place. I experienced so much pain during that shutdown process that the anxiety I am experiencing is a result of what is now beginning to open up.”

“This really is like the sensation of blood beginning to flow in a foot that has been sleeping,” I congratulate myself on the intuitive understanding. “That is why I feel the panic.”

You Got It

“When I relax,” I eventually share my insights with Keith, “the energies begin to flow and my abdomen freaks out with a foot-waking feeling. As the anxiety escalates, I immediately abort the relaxation and return to the clenching. It has been a lifelong cycle.”

“You got it!” Keith proudly responds.

“I am not sure if this is the key to my power shutdown,” I respond with a giggle. “But it is definitely another important piece of the puzzle.”

I play with this beautiful meditation until the end of what turns out to be a short ceremony – one that ends at around 5:00 p.m.. Before leaving, I step into Keith’s kitchen to thank him and give him a quick hug.

New Levels Of Partnering

“Congratulations for taking your work to a different level of connectedness and partnering with the light,” Keith smiles at me.

“Yeah,” I giggle, “I was surrendering and trusting so much more … getting new insights into how the “rational mind is not the tool” … just trusting that my flow and heart know what to do and that I do not need to know in advance or try to figure it out.”

“And if you do need to know something,” Keith adds the missing piece, “it will be given to you in some way.”

As I walk home, my heart is alive as I ponder how – not only did I make amazing progress on lovingly involving Higher Energies in resolving a very deep and painful childhood trigger – but I also felt genuine loving connections with literally everyone on the porch, even those who, in the past, have often triggered deep reactions.

Other-Dimensional Reality

Early Saturday morning, shortly after 2:00 a.m., I wake up with very shallow and rapid breathing. To my shock, I am back to deep coughing with fluid in my lungs, being unable to take deep breaths without causing intense coughing fits.

But even with the unexpected physical metaphor, I am in good spirits, experiencing beautiful energy, feeling no emotions whatsoever. Giving my lungs an opportunity to clear, I sit meditating on my bed for an hour or so. Soon, I am again breathing normally, easily relaxing, and returning to dreamland.

But to my surprise, when I wake up shortly after 6:00 a.m., I am immersed in vivid memories from another round of several bizarre dreams – dreams involving confusion, chaos, abandonment, struggling to find my way home, mixed-up telephones, and computer stuff. These weird dreams are a mishmash of jumbled up emotions – of a dream experience overflowing with confusion and frustration.

What surprises me even more, however, is that these vivid dreams leave me deeply immersed in the intense emotion of that dream-reality – as if those events had actually happened in waking life – as if I had been hurt and victimized.

I almost laugh as I sit in these intense and overwhelming emotions, allowing them to flow. A beautiful and obvious metaphor is becoming profoundly clear.

The emotions that I now feel running through me are from a different dimensional reality – from dreamtime. But in truth, what is happening right now is not much different from how I feel when allowing childhood and teenage emotions from this lifetime to run through me. They feel just as real, and affect me just as deeply. I clearly see that there is little or no difference between the two concepts.

For six months, I have been learning to allow such emotions from my own past to run through me. Those childhood and teenage emotions have dominated my life, creating intense repeating patterns of dysfunction – yet intuitions are now quite clear that those childhood emotions are no more real than the emotions of a silly dream.

“Wow,” I ponder with a giggle, continuing to allow the dream emotion to flow.

Tired And Content

The beautiful-but-crazy dream emotions linger with intensity for several hours – continuing to flow with surprising strength. Just as with other emotional regressions, I actually find it difficult not to identify with or attach to the feelings that rage through me.

Trusting that many emotions need to be felt to the core before the light can transmute them, I soon surrender and isolate in my bedroom. I actually giggle as I soon hit several minutes of intense and excruciating screeching and wailing sobs.

Soon the intensity passes, leaving me experiencing apathy, futility, numbness, stuck-ness, and hopelessness.

By now, I realize that the dream emotions are so real that I wonder if I have also activated another layer of childhood emotions that are simultaneously flowing through me on their way out. But I realize this does not matter … that I do not need to figure it out.

Trusting that I need to “be where I am rather than where I think I should be,” I allow these emotions to continue flowing while focusing on asking the light to fill me.

As the flow dries up, I remain in a state of shell shock by what just happened. Rather than further attempting to analyze the emotional freight train that just plowed through my present-day reality, I simply giggle and give myself permission to immerse myself in self-love – and to just watch movies for the remainder of the day.

Three movies later, having dined on healthy options of peanut butter sandwiches and popcorn, I retire to bed quite early. I am tired but amazingly content.

Effortless Flowing

These first two days of June have been both amazing and intense.

I will never forget the honor and heartfelt joy of participating in the authentic and colorful pageantry of my young friend’s magical day – a day when an incredible and spiritual young man culminated the first significant milestone of choosing to follow his heart – choosing to follow in the footsteps of his Mayan ancestors.

And who would have thought that another toothpaste tale would find me with such synchronous grace – a silly-but-profound experience where my belongings were temporarily hidden from me – another beautiful stage play taking me back to childhood emotions – a beautiful setup that I used as an opportunity to soar to a new level of partnership and connectedness with the light. I am so proud of how I took that opportunity to go inward, to access healing light while allowing another level of childhood reality to flow through me.

And I cannot help but giggle at the magical lesson brought to me through several crazy confusing dreams – a lesson of dream-dimension emotions that flowed through me like a river – emotions from a different dimension that also had the power of reality-quicksand.

I love the way synchronous growth flows effortlessly through me. All I need to do is show up and be willing to look inside.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved