Brenda's Bicycles

I find it hard to believe that it is already the first day of May 2012. After taking a short two-week break from writing – a much-needed reprieve – I now feel deeply inspired to resume my integrating. These two weeks have been profound – digging deeper into inner work and enjoying a delightful visit from my dear friend Pyper.

The journey of the last six months has been so intense that I had nearly forgotten how to laugh as I repeatedly regressed through one painful emotion after another. Spending a delightful week of sharing with Pyper has shown me in beautiful ways that I still know how to belly laugh. Wow did I ever need her giggling energy to remind me of the fun that life has to offer. However, now that her short visit is over, I am eager to get back to routine.

But I am getting ahead of myself. My desperately needed giggle-fest has left me seven weeks behind in my writing. It is time to return to the past, to March 11, 2012 – to the day after a beautiful birthday celebration.

Time To Journey

During an inspiring Sunday morning Skype conversation with a dear friend in Arizona, my tiny little sparrow friend stops by several times to check on me as he perches in my window to say hello.

“The sparrow is sharing a message of love,” my dear friend Susan intuitively channels for me. “She is telling you to love yourself for where you are at in your process, and to enjoy the freedom.”

Soon, after a few hours of delightful conversation with Conny (who has decided to spend the weekend in my spare bedroom), I find myself strolling out to Keith’s magical porch.

It is time for more journeying through the inner labyrinth of my subconscious.

Reading The Pains

During the first half of the afternoon, I find myself in a beautiful heart space. Even though I feel intense pains in my solar plexus, my heart is alive with energy, and a smile remains lightly implanted on my face.

“I am feeling a lot of solar plexus pain today,” I soon share with Keith. “But since my heart still feels trusting and powerful, I think that I am just reading the densities of others. Would you agree?”

“Brenda,” Keith quickly confirms, “there is a great deal of intense solar plexus energy on the porch today.”

To my delight, another woman quickly confirms that she too is noticing the same pains in her body. It seems that with each ceremony, I take another baby step in learning to trust the subtle nuances of my inner energy sensitivities.

Emotional Quicksand

During this peaceful period of observation, I watch as Paul continues to make his way around the porch, sharing his version of healing energy with others. I am delighted to recognize that I am no longer projecting any type of emotional charge in Paul’s direction.

But then, about halfway through this beautiful ceremony, I abruptly sink into the quicksand of this well-performed stage play. To my shock, I suddenly catch an unexpected glimpse of my mother as I observe Paul. I feel the deep annoyance of my loving mother’s attempts to rescue and fix me – of her being my metaphorical shadow, not allowing me to stumble and fall, or to step into emotional release. While continuing to watch Paul work with others, I see my devoted mother, doing the best she could, desperately trying to serve me while simultaneously causing me to push and stuff my emotions down.

This journey through buried memories begins to push all of my painful buttons. I am profoundly triggered by what I observe. As I sink further into the clutches of this emotional quicksand, I find it increasingly difficult not to identify with these emotions – to separate this childhood regression from present-day reality.

Over the course of a few minutes, I completely withdraw from the group energy. I feel like an alien in a place where I do not belong – in a place where no one understands me – in a place where my mother seems to be rewarded for her loving and dedicated efforts to rescue me, while I want nothing more than to run away and hide from such invalidating assistance.

I have profoundly regressed into the self-loathing emotions of childhood.

Disconnected Isolation

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts my isolation at one point in the ceremony. “Remember how you recently complained to me about having no group energy and cohesiveness in ceremony?”

“Yeah,” I respond from my state of shutdown and isolation.

“Well today, the group is working together in profound ways.” Keith points out bluntly. “People are supporting each other on different issues …working together and sharing energy.”

“I feel like I just completely disconnected from the group.” I respond glumly. “I feel like I want to go dig a hole and climb down into it. I am not feeling the connected energy.”

“Exactly,” Keith points out with a firm-but-loving tone.

A Lost Loser

Soon, Keith begins to work with another woman who has been stuck and in resistant denial throughout the entire ceremony. As he engages her in conversation, talking to her about her stuck isolation, I recognize that Keith is really talking to me.

I find myself feeling like a total isolated looser – an alien in a world that does not fit, a world that does not understand me, one that I do not want to be a part of. Right now, in my state of emotional regression, this magical porch feels like that alien world. A huge inner energy begs me to stand up right now and leave.

“Everyone else is having energy breakthroughs,” I ponder in my deeply agitated state. “Even this woman who has been so stuck is now beginning to successfully bring in loving Higher Dimensional energy.”

“I continue to be a stuck alien,” I further flog myself in silent frustration. “I am the only looser who cannot seem to do it.”

An Unknowing Choice

When I later check in with Keith, briefly explaining my deep emotions, he emphasizes to me that I am deep in my God/separation drama … and that my feeling of isolation and disconnection is a choice.

As I ponder Keith’s words, I just want to scream.

I realize that this is a “choice” made by a part of my inner energies that are just outside of my awareness. I know that this “choice” is related to deeply ingrained subconscious anger at having felt abandoned by true Higher Energies as a child – but knowing that this is a “choice” only increases my sense of alien frustration.

In my state of isolation, it seems like everyone on the porch is “getting it” except for me. I try to reach out and connect to my “Higher Dimensional” friends – but I only feel more isolated and alone – feeling a sense of self-flogging and hopelessness.

Hidden Screams

Eventually, as others in the group begin sounding some “ohming” tones together, I begin to resist and further resent the group energy from which I am so profoundly isolated. Tears begin to stream down my cheeks as I pull a large blue scarf over my head to further withdraw. I want to scream out in anger – anger at my stuck-ness – anger at being such a stupid looser.

Finally, I join in with the gentle verbal toning. As I do so, buried emotions begin to bubble to the surface. I cycle between random waves of stuck-ness, mild tears, and feeling numb. I cannot allow myself to go deeper.

Soon, several men across the porch begin to go into their own release of angry yelling emotions. I am so detached from the group that I have no idea what or why they are doing so, but I take advantage of the opportunity for my own process.

Each time the men across the porch go into the loud screaming sounds, I join in underneath my scarf, engaging in my own screaming that is cleverly muffled by theirs. As I do so, I access deep rage at my powerlessness, at my inability to understand, to fit in, to do what everyone else seems to find so easy and natural. Angry and agonizing tears stream down my cheeks as I subtly join in with this now-group process.

Incognito Anger

When Keith shares a personal story with the group – a story detailing how he himself had struggled with his own version of such humiliating stuck-ness – my inner anger intensifies. I do not want to struggle for three years to learn how to allow myself to receive Divine Love. I want to figure out how to allow that love now, but I continue to feel like that dry and barren Sahara desert with a huge wall surrounding it – a wall that continues to keep most all love out.

Based on past experience, I decide to use my anger in an attempt to access my resolve to overthrow this feeling of inner powerlessness.

When the men across the porch yell some more, I start to wail in agony, anguish, and waves of sobs. I attempt to do so incognito, remaining disconnected under my scarf. I want to ride their wave, under the cover of their noises, not drawing any attention to myself.

“Yeah, Brenda, Join in,” Keith encourages me when he notices my secret participation.

With the added encouragement, I let go of more inhibition and cut loose even more – but continue to be quite restrained. I still want to just stand up, grab my things, and walk away. I remain deeply disconnected from the group energy, desperately wanting to climb into a hole and pull the lid over me.

Fear, Tears, And Shaking

Finally, still feeling as profoundly stuck as ever, I recognize the answer. As much as I do not want to admit it, the answer to my dilemma – to getting out of this stuck state – is to bring in Higher Love to help me. I realize that this part of the journey is a solo one – that no one can do it for me, not even Keith.

As I attempt to bring in some loving energies, I feel a tiny bit of tingling in my crown, but remain quite stuck.

Intuitively, I am guided that the love I need to bring in to help me right now is my mother’s true love – the underlying love that she had for me behind the conditional lenses that clouded it. As I silently express my intention to the Universe, asking for my mother’s true love to join me, I also ask for filters to keep out any energy that is not pure.

To my shock, as I begin to surrender and allow this experience to unfold, deep fear consumes me as I begin to cry and shake. As I search for actual memories when I was able to feel such pure love from my mother, I cycle between waves of intense fear and mild feelings of trickling love. I begin visualizing a few experiences of tender hugs prior to age five. When I take this inner journey into my teen years, the fearful emotions increase dramatically – but I also begin to experience a sensation of solidness and power in my High Heart region, extending from my heart all the way to my throat and shoulders.

I clearly recognize that I am feeling a small flow of real love from my mother, but continue to cycle in the waves of fear, tears, and shaking.

Transparent Reception

“How are you doing?” Keith eventually queries as he gently nudges me on the leg to get my attention.

After I fill him in, Keith asks me to trust him.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me. “Invite a Higher Being to stand in front of you, and ask that Being to send you conditional love, just like the love you received from your mother and others. Let it all come to you with NO filters. Instead, just be transparent, non-attached, not being affected by anything that is colored with conditions.”

“Just receive the only love that is offered,” Keith continues. “Receive what is offered without being disempowered by the conditional nature, without allowing someone else to drain you, to have power over you, or to affect you in any way. Their behavior is theirs … their love is enough … you are the one in charge of how you feel when receiving this love.”

As I put Keith’s beautiful words into meditative practice, I realize that he is reminding me that how I feel when receiving such love is an “inside job” – that no matter how conditional someone’s love might be – that I can still receive the pure essence of that love with transparency, without allowing myself to feel disempowered in any way.

Soon, I am immersed in deep peace as I feel portions of this love flowing through me … and none of it feels threatening or disempowering. In fact, I feel just the opposite … I feel deeply blessed.

Detached Disorientation

As I continue receiving this conditional love from the Higher Being in front of me, I begin to feel a wall in my heart. As it increasingly forms, a buildup of pain develops in my solar plexus.

I see the wall as resistance to, and fear of, the conditional stuff that is filtering in. Again I focus increased attention, silently expressing meditative intent that none of the conditional distortions can touch me, that only the unconditional love will fill me and that all conditional energies will just flow right through me.

I sit in this focused state until the end of the ceremony, which soon dissolves into nearly an hour of disjointed socializing and chatter. While quietly meditating in my solo journey, I again feel like an alien. I want to finish what I am doing and simply pay no attention to the detached distractions of the porch.

As I sit in this solo state, I feel deeply connected to the love, while simultaneously experiencing dizziness and swirling energy in my head. I recognize this head-swirling as a feeling of disorientation – of being how I must have felt as a child when feeling like an alien that does not fit in, that does not want to be here.

I consider leaving, but do not want to walk home in this confusing state of disorientation. I hang around to the end, hoping to get closure through a brief conversation with Keith.

Unable To Run

“Keith, I feel like I am in multiple worlds right now.” I finally get the chance to discuss my journey in private.

“Brenda,” Keith responds, “you are. You are deeply regressed into your childhood. This is not the present day. You are feeling what the child felt in an alien world where you did not feel as if you belonged.”

“Today was a powerful stage play for me.” I expound on my journey. “When I felt like a loser, just wanting to scream, I literally was that young child who could not understand the world as my parents described it to me. I felt as if I were surrounded by a world where everyone seemed to fit in and belong – everyone except me. I just wanted to run away and isolate myself.”

“But you couldn’t run away,” Keith aptly points out.

An Important Insight

When I explain to Keith that I remain quite confused and disoriented, he reminds me that I am still in the middle of being regressed into those childhood emotions.

“They are flowing through you on their way out.” Keith shares what I already know on one level.

“My heart is really peaceful right now,” I express confusion to Keith, “but my head remains quite dizzy and disoriented.”

“These are your childhood experiences flowing through you.” Keith again reminds me. “You are experiencing how it felt to have those chakras open in a world that did not fit.”

“I feel as if I am in that state of confusion that I have often experienced here on the porch,” I express to Keith. “It feels as if I was punished for being in this confusing state, which only increased my confusion.”

“That is a very important insight.” Keith points out.

Right-Brained Roots

“I don’t want to go home while I still feel so disoriented, not feeling closure to my process.” I soon express my nervous fears to Keith. “I still feel the childhood need-to-isolate running through me … as if I do not belong … as if I do not want to participate in this reality … and my friend Conny is sleeping over at my house again tonight.”

“Just let it flow through you,” Keith calms me after repeatedly congratulating me on my unfolding insights. “Trust your process … trust that you can go home right now and that all is well.”

Keith then reminds me that I simply need to remain non-attached and unidentified with these emotions … that if I can do so then the emotions are being released … but if I attach and recharge my emotional reactions to what is flowing through me, that I will be given repeated opportunities to play it out over and over again until I am done.

As our beautiful conversation comes to conclusion, Keith and I briefly revisit the alien metaphor. He talks about how most people who are now waking up to their magic during this period on the planet chose to be born in a time and place where they too felt like aliens who were born into a foreign planet.

“Yeah,” I respond with new insight. “As a child, I was magically connected, a right brained child who was an alien in a logical left-brained world. Today I feel as if I regressed through the exact opposite in reverse. Now I am still somewhat stuck in my head as a conditioned left-brained alien who is attempting to reconnect with my right-brained roots.”

Immigration Or Bust

After a delightful final evening of visiting with my dear friend Conny, the two of us are up very early on Monday, March 12. With a full tummy of chocolate-laced oatmeal, we board an early-morning Tuk-Tuk to nearby San Pablo shortly before 6:20 a.m.. Conny is beginning her return trip to Mexico, and I am off on an adventure of my first-ever solo visit to Guatemala City, hoping to pick up my precious passport at the immigration office. Sensations of nervousness are far outweighed by a feeling of trust and confidence that “I can do this … all by myself”.

Minutes later, the two of us are sharing a chicken bus destined for Xela, wildly winding our way up the steep switchbacks overlooking gorgeous Lake Atitlan. An hour later, at 7:30 a.m., I hug my friend goodbye and work my way toward the front of the extremely crowded bus. Conny will continue on toward Xela, but I need to get off at the intersection of the main Inter-America highway, where I will catch a different bus that will carry me on to the capitol city.

The long bumpy bus ride is tedious and tiresome, but very reliable, dropping me off at the end of the line just before 11:00 a.m., in a cement jungle near the heart of Guatemala’s crowded capitol. It takes me about thirty minutes to walk down traffic-laden streets to the immigration office, and I finally have my renewed passport in hand by 12:15 p.m..

Feeling quite proud of myself, my first solo trip to the city is flawless. After a hurried walk back to my bus stop and a four-hour return journey, a little Tuk-Tuk finally drops me off near my home at just after 5:00 p.m..

I am exhausted, so the rest of my evening turns into a burger-fest for my inner children and a relaxing movie before bed.

Daunting Regression

Tuesday morning brings a return to the emotional regression. I want to write, but deep childhood emotions tug forcefully on my heart. I try to watch a happy video clip in preparation for writing, but the process just serves to emphasize how unhappy my weird emotions are. I am feeling very depressed, hopeless, and antisocial. I am loathing myself, I do not want to write, and a strange sense of hating other people flows through me.

I know these emotions are not true … I know they are a continuation of the childhood regression from Sunday … but the emotions are overwhelming and deeply convincing.

I recognize the hopeless, antisocial feelings as arising from my teenage years. I feel as if I was given a one-day reprieve from my process, but am now deep in the whiplash of my flowing journey.

The emotions are so overpowering that I decide to walk over to Keith’s home to return a map of Guatemala City – one that I could easily have returned tomorrow. I am not sure what I need, but sitting alone in these regressed emotions is daunting.

A Series Of Initiations

“I am back in that flow of childhood nightmare,” I express to Keith as a few tears unexpectedly burst down my cheeks. “I feel like I want to crawl into a hole and pull a lid over me.”

Soon the tears flow freely as Keith begins to search on his computer for a quote that he feels guided to share with me. It is one from the book “Oneness” channeled by Rasha. Following is this beautiful quote.

“In order to know, experientially, the state of fearlessness that comes of aligning with one’s Godself, it is necessary to undergo what might be considered to be a series of initiations. These manifestations, as experiences, of one’s fear of the state of disconnection, are in fact illusory devices that you have created for yourself so that you might have the means of proving otherwise. By consciously choosing, in one’s darkest hour, to reject the vision of hopelessness that appears inevitable, and to choose instead the knowingness that the outcome will reflect your highest possible good, you open the doorway within to the place of loving trust that will lead you home.”

As I read these beautiful words, I recognize myself and in many ways feel as if I am in one of my darkest hours of hopelessness. I clearly recognize that these emotions have nothing to do with the present day – but the currents of these emotions are strong and swift. With all my heart, I want to find and open that doorway within.

Surrender To The Flow

“You are in a powerful place,” Keith reassures me.

But when he reminds me that there are no formulas and that I need to find my own way through this process, I want to scream. I desperately want help from outside … but realize that this is an inside job and that the help I seek must come from inner connections.

“I feel an agonizing sense of extreme hopelessness,” I share the intensity with Keith. “I feel as if my observer-self is hanging on by a thread, on the verge of getting lost in this.”

“There is no way to teach surrender.” Keith surprises me by his response.

“You mean I am just supposed to surrender to this flow?” I ask for clarity.

“Yes,” Keith smiles back at me.

Gentle Surrender

Keith suggests to me that rather than going home right now, that I just sit and meditate in his kitchen for a couple of hours while he goes about his normal morning chores. I am deeply grateful for his kind invitation. I need all the support I can get right now. In this meditation, I am able to access some nice energy, but a deep and distracting energy of confusion continues to dominate my head. I try to walk down into my subconscious mind, but the distracting confusion is so overwhelming that I cannot make it even one step down. I realize that for now, my journey is simply to sit with this confusing emotion, to allow it to flow through me, and to surrender.

Shortly after noon, I thank Keith for his kindness and return home, feeling somewhat stable while still flowing this intense emotional river through me. I am so exhausted from emotion and travel that I lovingly choose to honor my humanness, and gently grant myself permission to withdraw for the rest of the day – a day consumed by three movies and a tiny earthquake that interrupts just over halfway through the second movie.

Bedtime cannot come fast enough.

Animal Guides

Wednesday morning at 5:36 a.m., I awake to the sounds of someone using a sledgehammer to break concrete just around the corner from my bedroom wall. I have long since given up all judgment for such bizarre morning noises. Using the opportunity as an unexpected alarm clock, I instead get out of bed to attempt a Skype call to a dear friend who is celebrating her birthday tomorrow.

I love my friend. In the midst of an hour-long conversation, her loving support helps to ground me … helping me to further surrender to the unknown wonders of my process. This dear friend guides me to see my process as a journey through the jungle, where a magical jaguar guides me from the tree branches above, keeping me safe and leading me through each step.

As the afternoon chocolate ceremony gets underway, I use my dear friend’s metaphor as the basis for my meditation, visualizing myself in a jungle sitting with a black jaguar who is my male-energy protector and guide. Soon, my little sparrow friend pops into the visualization, revealing herself as my little free-spirited female guide. As she dances and plays in the air above me, I realize she has no cares for tomorrow, and she is not anchored to the ground as I know it. I love this amazing meditation with my male and female energy guides.

I sit and play with this fun experience until well after the glow meditation terminates.

An Unexpected Invite

When Keith has progressed about halfway around the porch, he begins to work with a young woman that I will call Melissa. As Keith explores with her, it becomes obvious that Melissa is a powerful empath who, much like me, functions as a ground (or lightning rod) for the emotions of people in groups. She has been deeply agonized by the shutdown of her magic as a child, and is beginning to experience painful anguished emotions as Keith works with her.

“Brenda,” Keith soon interrupts and turns toward me, “Melissa was shut down in much the same way as you, and is feeling the same type of deep pain over what happened to her. I would like you to come over here and connect with her … connect with her pain and see if you can feel it yourself.”

Sharing Journeys

As I sit directly in front of Melissa, staring into her eyes while putting out silent intentions for my heart to connect with her energy, I gradually begin to feel a mild ache at the center of my heart chakra. After about ten minutes of intense focus and surrender, I have an area about eight inches in diameter, directly over my heart chakra, that is overwhelmed by sharp painful aching – so painful that I begin to cry.

Meanwhile, Melissa has gone deeper into her own unfolding process, and is now hitting deep screeching wails of anguish as she processes her emotions. The more I focus, the more her pain becomes my pain. When she cries out in pain, I too feel like crying right along with her.

“Good, Brenda,” Keith soon interrupts, “you’re getting there.”

I continue my process of surrender and connecting, continuing to relate profoundly to Melissa’s release process. In the midst of this, Keith asks another woman to sit directly behind me, holding space for my own process.

Soon, I begin to go extremely deep into gut-wrenching pain, expressing itself mostly through agonizing dry heaves of energy and some coughing.

Suddenly, as I experience one especially deep dry-heave, I have a powerful physical feeling that I am vomiting out energy from that nail-in-my-heart spot.

Way Out There

Almost immediately, I am intuitively reminded of the metaphorical “Phillips screwdriver” that continues to be energetically immersed in this spot – one representing the fixing energy of my mother – one that I have attempted to remove on several occasions, but which has remained quite securely lodged in my energy field.

I quickly mention this reappearing metaphor to Keith while continuing to dry heave agonizing energy from this spot at the center of my chest.

“Do you want to do something ‘way out there’?” Keith soon asks Melissa when my own emotional release eventually subsides.

After explaining more details to her about the metaphorical screwdriver stuck in my heart, Keith tells Melissa that she is going to help me to pull it out.

Shifting Metaphors

“Reach your hand right here in front of her,” Keith guides Melissa.

I already have my right hand clenched tightly over the spot, and Melissa places her hand right above mine.

“Imagine yourself holding the end of the handle,” Keith guides Melissa.

For the next twenty minutes, Keith coaches Melissa through her own experience of feeling the screwdriver in her hand while I focus entirely on relaxation and surrender, trusting my black jaguar and tiny sparrow to guide and protect me … trusting and allowing … doing nothing else.

“Can you feel that the screwdriver is somewhat relaxed and partially loose now?” Keith asks Melissa.

As I observe and surrender, I begin to get lost in the metaphor, starting to doubt the existence of such a weird appendage sticking out of my heart. To make things easier, I feel intuitively guided to release the metaphor and instead simply view the energy in my heart as a blob of fixing energy that now needs to be psychically removed. To my delight, this shift in metaphors allows me to get more out of my head and into full surrender.

Removed And Released

As Keith continues to work skillfully with Melissa, I note that he begins to be overwhelmed with emotion as well. Tears form in his eyes as he feels the powerful significance of what we are all working on together.

As I again look into Melissa’s eyes, tears saturate both of our faces. I see divinity in her glowing eyes as I continue my unfolding process of surrendering, allowing, and trusting that she has the magical ability to assist me. Fears dance through my soul as I further allow someone from outside to help me do something that I cannot do for myself.

“There, it is free, pull it out now,” Keith finally guides Melissa after another ten or fifteen minutes of deep emotional coaching.

As Melissa pulls her hand back and releases the energy to the angels, she expresses that she definitely felt the energy coming out of me. Keith confirms that he too felt it quite clearly.

I do feel slightly different, but my energy sensitivities remain so weak that for me, at least for now, trust is a major element of my process. On the intuitive level, however, I have strong inner guidance telling me that this has been a very real process indeed. As Keith often shares, this is a process that cannot be validated using rational mind. It is something that I will need to integrate – something that will eventually be quite clear to me over time.

Healing Old Wounds

As Keith moves on to work with others, I sit in deep peaceful meditation, integrating and bringing in peaceful loving energies.

Gradually, I begin to feel a sensation of solidarity at that nail-in-my-heart spot – as if power and clarity are beginning to return to my energy. While Keith coaches someone else in a “soul-retrieval” process, I begin to engage in my own soul-retrieval – focusing on bringing in increasing amounts of higher energy and light while silently expressing my intention for whatever parts of myself that I may have pushed out of this place to now begin returning as appropriate.

Again, I visualize my black jaguar and tiny brown sparrow, asking them to guide me while I simply breathe and allow. As I do so, I experience many random pains and sensations of expansion in my high-heart region. I am now feeling a definite and noticeable difference in my energy field – one that feels as if old stinging wounds are beginning to heal with new love.

Need-To-Know Basis

“The screwdriver is out,” Keith confidently reassures me a while later when I ask for feedback. “It will stay out unless you choose to bring it back in a few days time.”

I definitely do not want to do that. I want to fill this place with healed light and love. But I clearly recognize that when energy work such as this is done, that unless changes are made and new paths are chosen inside of me, that the old energies will indeed return.

As I further integrate in deep meditation, I feel as if I am lying on the “Goddess’s operating table” – a metaphorical term that Keith sometimes uses to explain to people what they are feeling when energy shifts begin to move around in their body.

“Keith,” I eventually ask, “can you help me understand what all of these energy movements are in my body?”

“Part of you doesn’t want to know right now,” Keith lovingly responds. “This part of you is not ready to know or sense this yet. It is better, as part of a trust-building process, that you don’t need to know. Your rational mind might get in the way if it is given more feedback.”

Powerful Pauses

For the remainder of this beautiful ceremony, I mostly tune out from other events on the porch and instead continue integrating in my own process. I feel a beautiful energy flowing through me in spite of the fact that my head is still partially clouded by that confusion energy that has followed me all week. But intuitions tell me this confusion is fading fast, being replaced by newfound clarity.

By Thursday morning, I feel emotionally on top of the world. I wish I could say I was done with my intense journeying, but I clearly recognize that instead, I am being given a gift of grace, a beautiful opportunity to spend the day writing a blog titled “Defying Gravity”. I love such powerful pauses in my process – desperately needed pauses to give me a chance to reconnect with the light, to recharge my passion, and to prepare for my next adventure.

Magical Metaphorical Animals

It has been an amazing and intense five-day journey – a journey graced by animal metaphors from two dear friends. That magical black jaguar and tiny free-spirited sparrow have proven to be powerful metaphors in helping me surrender control to a higher flow – to trust and allow that my own Higher Self is guiding me through the labyrinth of my jungle journey.

On Sunday, I was immersed into an unexpected childhood regression, one that took me back into the forceful flow of intense teenage emotions – emotions that made me feel socially lost and alone – emotions of being an alien in a world not my own. In fact, it becomes increasingly clear that such a feeling of being an alien began at a very young age. In a twist of trust, I learned that I can indeed begin to allow self-love and motherly love to fill me – to heal my love-starved heart. I learned that I can receive the conditional love directly, in a state of transparency, and that it is possible to feel the pure unconditional love hidden behind the conditions.

After a day of fun-but-tiring travel to Guatemala City, Tuesday took me ever deeper into that emotional regression, nearly overwhelming me.

And on Wednesday, those magical metaphorical animals guided me through a jungle of emotions – emotions of connecting to my empath abilities more deeply than ever. And to my amazement, after connecting to and assisting Melissa, she became a beautiful angel in helping me to remove fixing energies that have been stuck in that nail-in-my-heart spot for nearly five decades.

Finally, on Thursday, after writing all day about defying gravity, I really do feel as if I can fly.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Early Wednesday morning I arrive at Keith’s porch, eager to help with preparations for a small private chocolate ceremony – a ceremony being held for a group of writers that are in town for a week of workshops. Just last night, Keith made a last-minute decision and asked me to assist. I am excited to do so.

I note with interest that Paul is also on the porch, helping in the set up as well. He is dressed up in nice clothes … and based on what I observe I assume that Keith must have asked him to participate too. To my delight, I am fine with this. I am making huge strides in dropping all judgments and projections that have long held me hostage.

As the 10:00 a.m. starting time rapidly approaches, I am deeply surprised when Keith lovingly engages Paul in a firm conversation, reminding him that he was not invited to participate, asking him to leave.

Paul protests, indicating that the last he knew, that I was not invited either, and since I was there he assumed he could be there. Soon, Paul begrudgingly picks up his things and storms away with his head down. I can sense his confused and resentful anger.

Assumed Guilt

The private ceremony turns out to be small but very powerful. I have a delightful time holding a beautiful heart space, and am deeply connected to my heart power today. I feel quite bubbly and socially connected as well.

After this first beautiful ceremony ends at 1:15 p.m., I gobble down a couple of apples while quickly assisting in the setup for the normal public ceremony, which has been pushed back to begin at 2:00 p.m. in order to allow for two ceremonies in one day.

I continue to be in this same beautiful energy as the afternoon “Glow Meditation” gets underway. In fact, I am able to maintain that powerful energy of unconditional love throughout the ceremony, even while doing my own work.

But as I sit quietly during the “Glow Meditation”, I unexpectedly feel strong pains in my solar plexus. Intuitively I know I am physically feeling Paul’s anger. It is easy to observe that Paul remains in the same emotional state that caused him to storm off Keith’s porch earlier this morning, and I feel indirectly involved in the middle of that anger.

“Paul is angry that I was invited and that he was not.” I begin to ponder. “In a strange way, I feel as if he blames me for that fact. Even more bizarre is that I feel a sense of guilt and responsibility for his anger … and yet I had nothing to do with it. I would have been fine either way.”

Empathic Dilemmas

As I ponder deeper into this confusion, I recognize an old lifelong pattern of feeling horrible about perceived conflict in others – especially when I know that they indirectly and/or incorrectly blame me for their suffering. Such realization has always devastated me.

Even when I know I am not responsible, I still feel their pain, and I feel as if I should have – or somehow could have – prevented them from feeling the pain. It has always broken my heart to be around such situations where I insanely blamed myself for the suffering of another. It is now quite clear to me that I feel this pain because I am an empath – and because I have always been unable to fully distinguish my own personal emotions from the emotions that I unknowingly inhale from others.

As I sit in meditation, while still being quite connected to the love in my heart, a strong and painful emotional knot physically forms behind my belly button. The pain is so sharp that it literally feels as if someone kicked me there. I cannot explain how I know … but I know that what I am feeling is coming from Paul.

Eating Versus Reading

When Keith begins to work with individuals, he first turns to me. I feel deeply handicapped in my ability to communicate, because it feels inappropriate to discuss actual circumstances in an explicit way.

“I feel as if I am absorbing the emotions of others,” I explain generically to Keith.” These emotions are related to conflict and anger. I am taking them inside of me … yet I am not attached to the emotions … not identifying with them. I am in a very good place while remaining the observer. I feel the pain quite deeply, but I know it is not my responsibility.”

“Brenda, you are not eating that emotion,” Keith surprises me. “You are just reading it, feeling it in your body without storing it inside.”

“You’re right,” I respond with a smile. “My heart is not shut down. In fact it remains quite loving and powerful.”

“Remember to pay close attention to your heart,” Keith reminds me. “If your heart is shutting down, then you are eating the emotion. If it remains open, you are simply reading it.”

Grounding Group Emotions

“Brenda is what I call a ground,” Keith then unexpectedly begins to explain to the others.

Keith clarifies by sharing that I work with group energy … that right now I am connected to the whole group … and that I am like a lightning rod, often being the path of least resistance for other peoples’ energy when they do not want to deal with it themselves.

“She is starting to understand this and to be more powerful with it.” Keith continues talking about me to the group.

“I want everyone here to consciously stop releasing any of their negative emotions.” Keith guides an unexpected experiment.

“Brenda,” Keith asks a few minutes later. “How do you feel now?”

“It is amazing,” I respond with a smile. My solar plexus has totally stopped hurting. This is powerful. Is this why I have cried so much at so many ceremonies?”

“Sometimes, but not always,” Keith answers in the mostly affirmative.

“Yeah, I know that most of my tears have been my own stuff,” I brainstorm with Keith. “But it is also becoming increasingly clear that my own stuff is often deeply triggered when I empathically feel the emotions of others. When that happens, I find my version of their issue inside of me, and work on it in myself.”

An Eye-Opening Energetic Empath Experiment

“Brenda,” Keith takes me deeper. “Go inside and notice the fingers of energy that leave your heart and connect to everyone here.”

“Yeah,” I respond. “I don’t feel them physically, but I sense their presence. I cannot say how, but I know that I am connected to everyone here.”

At this point, Keith guides me deeper and deeper into understanding the dynamics of how I use my energy to work with a group. It is all so new to me that I still find the realization quite confusing.

Soon, Keith continues the energetic empath experiment.

“I want everyone to begin allowing their emotional density to flow again.” Keith guides the others.

Gradually, I feel more and more pains begin to swell in my solar plexus. After about five minutes, I literally feel as if I had been kicked in my belly button.

The entire experiment proves to be very eye opening.

Slowly-But-Surely

As Keith gradually continues to work his way around the porch, I maintain a powerful connection with everyone in the group. Again, I cannot say how I know … I just intuitively know it.

Without moving from my seat, I repeatedly participate as an empath in the emotional release process of others … doing so from across the porch. At other times, I simply observe as Keith engages others in beautiful work while imagining a heart connection joining my heart to theirs.

In many ways this feels like childish imagination – yet I know that imagination is real magic – and I do continue to observe mild emotional feelings coming and going, as if they are flowing through me. My head is alive with energy, and my third-eye chakra occasionally pulses with pain, which I intuitively interpret as continued resistance to further opening. In fact, I believe that most of the metaphorical pains I feel today are resistance to what is slowly-but-surely starting to open … in baby steps.

Droplets Of Love

Eventually, when Keith does an empath training with the group, I remain deep in my own meditation – one in which I am focusing on attempting to allow myself to bring in more self-love.

I visualize myself as a love-starved baby and toddler … terrified of love … yet beginning to receive that love. As I do so, I begin to lightly cry and whimper … but the tears are more from joy than they are from fear. I am actually getting tiny glimpses of pure unconditional love.

After a while, I begin to visualize myself as a confused teenage boy, in various stages of dress. When I do so, the level of my emotions intensifies greatly, switching much more into the fearful side. I am deeply afraid of the love … feeling evil and undeserving of the love … knowing that the love will judge and condemn me … knowing that the love will manipulate and control me. But even so, I feel this frightened teenager reluctantly receiving very tiny glimpses of that pure unconditional love.

I notice that I am unable to visualize where the love is coming from. I attempt to imagine myself as walking into that brilliantly glowing room where my divine circle of friends hang out … but I cannot do it. The thought remains overwhelming and impossible. Nevertheless, little droplets of love continue to find their way through the cracks in my thick wall.

As the empath training ends, Keith feels guided to quickly check in with me. When I let him know that I am just focusing on bringing in lots of love, he deeply congratulates me on how my energy feels.

A Basket Of Love

In a different twist of events, Keith then guides everyone into a meditation where they visualize a basket in front of them.

“In the basket,” Keith tells us, “you will find a gift from your Higher Self.”

To my delight, as I imagine a basket sitting in my lap, I am gifted by an unexpected visual of my little heart seed – the same one that fell out of the sky and landed in my hand as I walked down the street in Panajachel on the morning after Christmas – a morning in which I was emotionally struggling. (See blog, A Dragon Quest, Part 3, published February 1, 2012.)

“My gift from Higher Self is self-love for my child … and from my child.” I ponder with tears in my eyes. “It is beautiful love, just for me.”

I bask and glow in this love for the remainder of this beautiful ceremony.

Reading The Book

“Brenda,” Keith congratulates me after ceremony. “You were very low-key today … but you did some powerful work.”

“Yeah, I know that,” I respond with a smile. “Do you have thirty seconds to walk with me out to the gate?”

Paul remains on the porch, and I do not want to talk in front of him. As Keith and I stand by the gate, I quickly share details of my experience at the start of the ceremony, how I know that I was painfully reading Paul’s anger, how I was actually feeling quite guilty for feelings of conflict and confrontation in which I played no contributing role.

Keith validates that I was indeed entering an old childhood loop of feeling responsible for the emotions of others.

“But you didn’t eat any of that density,” Keith again congratulates me. “You were aware of what you were doing, and you were just reading the emotions, not attaching to them as being your now.”

“I’m really starting to get it.” I respond as I give Keith a quick hug before beginning to walk up the steep hill above his home.

Heart Grace

As I ponder before bed, I am glowing in new feelings and understandings. I’m really loving the self-love that is beginning to blossom in my heart. This budding sense of Divine Love is so peaceful. I know that my protective wall remains tall and thick (but partially crumbling), and that I am still in the early stages of allowing such love into my heart … but I glow with the awareness that I am on the right path. I know it … and I increasingly believe that as I allow this love to fill me that it will transmute more and more of the inner density for me without my having to slog through every single dense emotion on my own, doing it the hard way.

Several times as I meditated during the final hour of the ceremony today, I was intuitively taken back to memories of an incredible special experience that happened on Valentines Day, 2011 (documented in “Heart Magic”, published March 9, 2011). As I ponder that experience, I now realize that the incredible power that had filled my heart on that amazing day was a gift of Divine grace – a gift showing me where I am headed – showing me the potential power and capacity of my heart that will return once I clear out all of the blockages that keep me separated from that power.

After that Valentines Day experience, the amazing power had endured for several days before subsiding to a level to which I was accustomed. Every once in a while I have again glimpsed the magic of which my heart is capable.

“It is not my rational mind … or work … that will take me back to that power.” I ponder on my pillow. “It is all about allowing the self-love and Divine-love to take me there as I follow the flow, one step at a time … not doing … but being, allowing, and trusting this process to continue unfolding … just like it did today.”

Magical Mornings

Thursday morning, as I busily write “A Synchronous Powerful Flow”, my magical winged friend – my favorite little brown sparrow – returns for a visit. For a couple of minutes the brave little explorer checks out my kitchen and bedroom, looking for hidden treasures before returning to the great outdoors.

Friday morning, the magic continues as I devour three additional chapters of the book “Oneness” by Rasha. Every word seems to resonate deeply, profoundly inspiring me in my inner-work path.

But the highlight of the magical morning is a visit from my dear friend Conny – a friend that I first met while spending three months in Valladolid, Yucatan, Mexico, while recovering from a severe third-degree burn on my left foot. During the month of December 2009, she had inspired me to have the courage and confidence to travel further south into Central America – even giving me her Lonely Planet guidebook as a heart-felt Christmas gift.

And I had mutually inspired her to find the courage to further follow her own heart. It was not long after flying back to Germany that Conny decided to return to Mexico to see where her heart would take her. To my delight, on the weekend of my birthday, Conny has unexpectedly shown up at Lake Atitlan. She needed to leave Mexico for a six-month visa renewal, and I am delighted that Lake Atitlan is her out-of-Mexico destination of choice. We spend two delightful hours in catch-up conversation before we part ways so that I can spend Friday afternoon journeying with chocolate. I cannot wait until she returns tomorrow to help me celebrate my birthday.

Intuitive Confirmations

Early during the “Glow Meditation”, I begin to feel a great deal of solar plexus pain, but my heart remains open and flowing with power.

“I feel strong intuitions that I am again reading the emotions of others.” I interrupt Keith at an appropriate moment, hoping to confirm my feelings.

“Yes you are,” Keith confirms my inner guidance, helping me to trust myself further.

When I thank Keith for the feedback, he surprises me with even more clarity.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “there is really strong solar plexus pain here on the porch today. It is from several people, not just one person.”

A few minutes later, as I focus on assisting others to move this painful emotion, Keith interrupts the silence again.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you are entering a new level of working with your empath abilities. You are connected to lots of people … assisting with their densities … while simultaneously bringing in Higher Energies to share with them. Can you feel that?”

“I cannot feel it physically,” I respond to Keith, “but I intuitively know that I am doing it.”

Hidden Awareness

Early in the ceremony, I work with one man, assisting in his release work. I follow intuitions, and feel as if I am really helping him, but rational mind continues to get in the way, bringing up doubts and telling me that I do not have a clue what I am really doing.

After sitting back on my pillow, I begin to hold-space for the group, again opening my heart and imagining a magical connection to everyone on the porch. A couple of times, as I experience unusual pains in my body, I check with Keith to validate that I am reading someone else’s energy. Each time, he confirms my perception. I am starting to increasingly trust myself … but feel somewhat frustrated that my sense of knowing is not more concrete … and that I continue to doubt myself.

Again, during another empath training (which is happening a lot lately), I let my fears get the best of me, and I mostly disconnect. Something inside of me continues to be quite freaked out by the thought of bringing these energetic abilities to more conscious awareness. Nonetheless, I do participate a little bit, and while my sensitivities are minimal, I find a new level of self-trust as I practice “faking it till I make it”.

Detached Observation

In the meantime, I begin to observe Paul as he engages in behavior that once triggered me quite deeply.

“I’m aware of things.” Keith speaks quietly when I briefly glance in his direction a few minutes later.

I silently giggle inside. I am delighted that I am able to watch what I now see as innocent distorted behavior from a state of complete detachment, totally trusting that all is well – totally trusting Keith’s guidance.

My Triggers, My Issue

Soon, however, I observe behaviors that do deeply bother me. I do my best to remain unattached and in a non-judgmental state – but it seems that no matter how many projections I heal, that Paul has a way of triggering me ever deeper – challenging me to continually delve further into my own inner journey.

As I observe with attempted non-attachment, my lower abdomen fills with sharp pains on either side of the belly button. In fact, these areas quickly become very painful to the touch. Then sharp energetic jabs begin to poke me in the centerline of my lower abdomen. The pokes are random and very painful. I know that what I am witnessing is triggering great energetic unrest in my second chakra.

I will not share details here in my writing – and Keith never does answer concerns that I express to him in a follow-up email. As much as I desperately want and think that I need Keith’s validation, I get the intuitive message to back off – that my triggers are my issue – that this is a reality that I have created for my own growth – and that nothing will change until I do.

Stuck And Disconnected

At an appropriate moment, I eventually ask Keith for guidance regarding the pains in my lower abdomen.

“Connect to the pains,” Keith guides me. “Go sit with them and ask them what they are about.”

“I think this is related to what is happening on the porch,” I respond in a state of deep stuck-ness. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about it openly. I am really stuck and disconnected right now.”

After calmly asking a few people to rejoin a space of holding energy for the group, Keith returns to work with me. The situation that was bothering me is now resolved.

“Congratulations on being profoundly stuck.” Keith shocks me. “This is right where you need to be for your understanding.”

Feel And Allow

As I sink deeper into observing my pains, I soon get the strong intuitive feeling that I am a two or three year old child – and that these pains belong to my stuck child – a child with no self-trust – a child filled with doubts about trusting my heart. Whenever I tried to follow my heart, it got me in trouble. I was deeply puzzled by the unexpected reactions of my parents.

“I am in a state of being totally stuck, and not understanding the reactions of those around me.” I express to Keith. “I am unable to do anything without getting in trouble, and it hurts.”

After Keith congratulates me for my unfolding understanding, I ask for guidance, asking if I should just sit with these pains in a state of non-attachment.

“Brenda,” Keith responds. “You are stuck in your head, trying to figure out this process with rational mind. Just trust your process … you cannot figure it out … just feel and allow.”

Lost In Frustration

As Keith moves on, I notice that a young woman who is on the porch for her first time (I will call her Mary) is looking at me while appearing to be sending energy in my direction. I feel appreciation for her gesture, but sense no energy flow except for the sharp pains in my belly.

I begin to imagine myself floating downstream in a raft, just trusting the flow … but this does not help much. Finally, I begin to sense a nice influx of energy in my crown, but the pains in my abdomen continue to ache strongly.

Remaining mostly unattached to these pains, I continue to allow and observe the unfolding events, trusting that I do not need to understand – trusting that I do not need to push – trusting that whatever needs to happen will just happen.

After a while, Keith and I again chat for a few minutes. My trust and self-confidence are waning.

“I am stuck, not going anywhere,” I express with frustration. “I am overflowing with resistance and feel as if I am wasting my time.”

Keith calmly reassures me that I do not need to know what is happening, that my process really is moving and going somewhere, and that I am not wasting my time. But even with Keith’s loving words, I am on the edge of just going home for the day.

A Motherly Embrace

Meanwhile, as I talk to Keith, Mary moves over to occupy an empty cushion on my left.

“Can I hold you?” Mary asks me with beautiful intentions.

“Please no,” I start to push her away.

I cannot possibly see how this could take me anywhere productive. I want to reject her loving offer because it feels so much like fixing energy. While I interpret her intention as genuine and pure … it seems as if she just sees my sadness and wants to hold me to make it all better.

“Brenda,” Keith shocks me with his encouragement. “Why don’t you allow it?”

Soon I lean to my left and allow Mary to wrap her right arm around me … which she quickly uses to pull me into her embrace. Before I know what happens, my left ear is glued to her upper chest. She holds me so tightly that I can hear the soft rhythmic beating of her beautiful warm heart.

As I surrender to this comforting motherly embrace, with her arms holding me tight, I sink into the state of being a love-starved little child … and I begin to cry deeply.

Feeling Guilty

“Brenda,” Keith lovingly encourages, “this is exactly what you need. Allow yourself to receive this love. She is absolutely overflowing with it.”

Soon, my crying turns into sobs – waves of gut-wrenching sobs that go up and down like the waves of the ocean. I cry and sob … sob and cry … cry and sob … seemingly forever.

Keith occasionally checks in with me, lightly touching my right leg to offer support, while encouraging me to allow, telling me that I am doing great.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting your arm?” I ask Mary after about ten minutes, feeling guilty for all of the attention I am getting.

“I’m fine,” She reassures me.

After another ten minutes of crying and sobbing, I ask the same question.

“I’m fine,” Mary again lets me know that this awkward hugging position is not a problem.

Hurtful Conditional Colorations

“Brenda,” Keith chimes in, “allow the love in.”

“Keith,” I respond through my whimpers, “I’m a love-starved little child.”

“No, Brenda,” Keith responds. “You are not just love-starved … you are love-resistant. You will not allow it in.”

As I hear Keith’s words, I resume sobbing and crying in waves. Keith encourages me through layer after layer of these deep emotions, often predicting when the next wave will hit even before I feel it.

“Keith,” I begin to share what is going on with me, “I have no memory of ever receiving such love at any time in my life … not even from my mother, except for a few random hugs that were probably at around age three or four.”

“You had this love, Brenda,” Keith reassures me, “but it just came with conditions.”

I know Keith is right. I know my mother loved me deeply. But her love was so colored by conditions, judgment, manipulation, and control (well intentioned, all of them) that her love hurt me deeply.

“Are you sure that your arm is OK?” I again check in with Mary.

Terrified Of Love

“And then,” I continue my rambling, “when I reached around age eleven, I hated myself with such self-despising passion, that I built the walls taller and thicker. I was terrified of allowing in the love, because if people got close they would discover what an evil and defective person I was – and they would surely reject and abandon me.”

“I was terrified of such love,” I keep pondering aloud. “In my marriage, I kept those huge walls. I never spent any time alone with my parents … and I never let anyone near the inner chambers of my true heart. I remained at the surface, desperately maintaining my distance to protect my evil secrets.”

In my thirties, when I began to open my heart to explore my gender struggles, I immediately encountered the long-feared rejection, which hurt deeply, so I put the walls up again, even stronger.

“I have never allowed this love,” I express to Keith with newfound understanding.

Barely Allowing

“Brenda, another layer,” Keith tells me that more emotions are coming. “Allow it … allow more love to come in.”

As I surrender to this next wave of emotion, I am astounded by the intensity. I am soon engulfed in deep agonizing wails and screeches of pain and aguish. Deep sobs consume me as dry-heaves and more screeching wails force their way out of my throat.

I am shocked by the pain of how love-starved … how craving of this love that I am. I feel so safe and warm being held in Mary’s arms. I could remain here all day were it not for the painful pulsing in my sleeping leg and foot. When I mention my pain, Mary admits that her leg is also asleep. We quickly take a two-minute break to shift positions.

But bless her heart, as soon as we are comfortable, Mary again grabs hold of me and pulls me into her motherly embrace.

Mary’s heartbeat is so comforting. I begin to imagine her as my own mother’s pure Higher Essence … loving me unconditionally, without any conditional distortions coloring it. I love the warmth … I love the love that I am able to allow to flow into me … but I feel as if I am only allowing a small part of this love to actually get in.

“Most is being pushed away,” Keith confirms my suspicion when I ask for feedback.

“Yes, you are still resisting,” Keith again reassures me a few minutes later, “but some love is getting through … and Mary is overflowing with plenty, with much more than you are able to allow in.”

A Frightened Puppy

“Brenda,” Keith eventually interrupts, “I’m guided to tell you that about 40% of the love you are now bringing in is not coming from Mary … you are bringing it in directly … you have your direct connection flowing.”

“Keith,” I mention a video link that I recently shared, “I’m being guided to remember that frightened love-starved dog at the pound … the one that just desperately needed to be held and loved. I AM that frightened dog … starved for love that I can’t let in.”

Finally, at around 6:30 p.m., after most people have left, I sit up in shock. It must be at least two hours since Mary first began holding me.

Still in a daze, I graciously thank Mary for an experience that continues to have me amazed and blown away. Several of the few people remaining on the porch come over to hug me.

“I knew the first time that I saw you that this was going to happen,” One woman shares with me. “I am so grateful that I got to be here to witness it.”

Trust The Process

“Congratulations for the beautiful work today.” Keith shares when I step into his kitchen to give him a quick goodbye hug.

“Keith,” I express with shock, “I feel like it is the Sahara Desert in there … my heart is still dry and craving love … and it feels like I continue to maintain castle walls surrounding the whole desert. It seems that I am still fighting it. I desperately want this love, but something in me will not allow it.”

“Brenda,” Keith lovingly guides me, “this is to powerfully show you how you can want something so bad, and yet your resistance can be amazingly powerful in fighting it. It is a part of your education.”

“What you did today was perfect,” Keith reassures me when I express fears about some type of emotional backlash that always seems to follow such major forward advances.

“What happens next is anyone’s guess,” Keith continues. “But whatever that is, it will be perfect too. You might have a major rejection, rebellion, or revolt inside that fights back in some way as you have had other times when you brought in love. You might be able to bring in more love. Trust whatever happens and do not attach to it, judge it, or resist it. It is all part of your process … and it is beautiful.”

Grateful Goodbyes

When I step back onto the porch to hug and thank Mary, she is occupied as Paul does a little energy work on her headache. I know Mary is leaving tomorrow … but I feel awkward, not wanting to interrupt, and I am anxious to go home to integrate … so I send my gratitude energetically and begin the short walk home in the dark.

As I reach the center of town, I am craving French fries, and I just happen to have a little money in my bag (I rarely carry money at night). To my delight, as I wait for the street vendor to fill a small plastic bag with yummy-but-oily fries, Mary finds me. She is just as excited as I am for the opportunity to say goodbye.

“Thank you so much,” I express my deep gratitude. “You are amazing. You have no idea how much you helped me today.”

“I had no idea how love-starved I was, and still am.” I tell her as I quickly fill her in on my Sahara Desert metaphor – a huge dry heart with castle walls around it.

“Well, my love is like rain,” Mary smiles.

“Wow, I love that,” I giggle back to her. “Castle walls could never keep out the rain.”

Beginning Stages Of Revolt

As I prepare for bed at 8:30 p.m., all I have eaten are French fries. I know what happened today was profound … and I know that I have no idea what will happen next. I am not attached, and feel determined to simply trust the flow of my process … whether the next step seems to be up or down.

As I rest on my pillow, a tight knot behind my belly button tells me something in my abdomen is quite unhappy. My heart feels somewhat shutdown, and I intuitively sense some type of major emotional rebellion forming in its beginning stages.

I will just trust and observe, being willing to go wherever events might lead me.

Love Is A Collar

Early Saturday morning, March 10, 2012, I am awake several times with crazy dreams. The details are not important, other than that the dreams give me the profound understanding of another reason why I hated love. It seems that I also have “love” hooked together with “loss of privacy”.

As I further ponder this forgotten theme of my life, it seems that being surrounded by love always meant being watched, followed, judged, and controlled. There were only rare occasions when love did not feel like a collar around my neck. Even when I spent time alone, I felt an obligation to explain and defend what I had done during that alone time.

As a result, both as a teen, and as an adult, I felt hard pressed to explore my confusing struggles. If I did spend time alone to try to figure myself out, I would have to account for that time later … and I would have to either lie about my actions or face stiff judgment, rejection, and abandonment by the ones I loved. Neither was a pleasant option.

Birthday Therapy

As I sit browsing Facebook on Saturday morning, I am extremely moody. It is my birthday and I am suddenly feeling quite lonely.

I have received beautiful birthday wishes from many friends and family members … but nothing dents the unexpected and inexplicable loneliness. I know it is related to the events of yesterday.

As I ponder what might be going on, I finally realize that I have torn down part of the walls that kept me strong … the wall that kept out love also kept out the vulnerability and the possibility of getting hurt. With this wall further disintegrating I am feeling the increased vulnerability … yet since I am not yet fully allowing in self-love or love from Source, that vulnerability is demanding my full emotional attention.

Finally, Conny arrives to spend my birthday with me. When she greats me with a hug and asks how I am doing, I am shocked as I begin to cry. We talk and talk for the next couple of hours. She plays therapist and gives me a beautiful listening ear. By the time we are done, I feel much better … but exhausted.

A New (Same) Look

It has been a very long time since I spent a day simply playing with a friend, and Conny gives me the perfect excuse.

Soon we are on a small public lancha, taking a boat ride over to nearby San Pedro. The lake is extra bumpy today, due to windy conditions. As we walk up a steep hill leading to the center of San Pedro, we pass a small beauty salon operated by a local Mayan woman.

“It has been thirteen months since I had a haircut,” I casually mention to Conny. “I have cut my own bangs many times, but the last time someone cut the rest of my hair was in February, 2011.”

“Brenda,” Conny insists. “Come with me right now. We are getting you a haircut. It is your birthday and it will make you feel better.”

I resist, but finally give in when Conny does not take no for an answer. She marches me inside, and takes care of all the arrangements … except the cutting itself. Fifteen minutes later we are all done. The front is only an inch or two shorter; while the back (which was several inches longer) is now even and free from straggly ends that often got snarled and tangled in my hairbrush.

I do not look much different, but my hair feels so much better – and it only cost me about $3.25 (US) plus tip.

Birthday Fun

After strolling around town, visiting over lunch, and buying a peanut butter square at the local health-food store, Conny and I again find ourselves on a small boat headed back to San Marcos. This one is even bumpier than the first. We are being drenched by spray from every bump until someone gets out a large plastic tarp to partially block the persistent wind-blown shower.

Later that evening, Conny and I walk out to Keith’s house to see if he would like to join us in conversation over a meal and dessert. I love my pizza and large piece of chocolate cake.

By 9:30 p.m., I am exhausted as I eagerly return to my cozy pillow. It has turned out to be a very fun birthday.

Tale Of Three Birthdays

It is hard to fathom that I am in the final months of almost three years of travel. I spent my first amazing birthday away from home in a tiny Mayan village in southern Belize. And now, I have spent these last two birthdays nestled in a small Mayan town along the shores of a beautiful lake in Guatemala – a lake surrounded by Mayan villages and three scenic towering volcanoes.

It is equally hard to believe that I have spent nearly half of those three years engaging in deep, sometimes agonizing emotional inner work. (Actually, the other half involved a great deal of self-directed inner work as well.) So many times I have been close to giving up in this often-difficult quest to “know myself” – but time and time again events have passionately shown me that I am exactly where I belong, doing exactly what I need to be doing at this stage of my now-adventurous life.

A Birthday Boat Ride

These last four days have been a powerful reinforcement that I am indeed on the right path. I have continued to chip away at my doubts and inner blockages, gradually opening up my energetic sensitivities, and learning to trust how I work as an empath … even when I cannot yet fully feel what I am doing.

But the most profound realizations have come in recognizing how much I crave pure unconditional love, and how strongly I simultaneously block myself from receiving it. It makes no sense to a love-starved mind, but hidden parts of me remain quite terrified of love – the conditional kind – the kind that feels like a controlling collar around my neck.

Because of this fear of conditional love, I have dried up, becoming a moisture-starved Sahara Desert surrounded by protective castle walls. The very unconditionally loving moisture I crave surrounds me … is right here … everywhere … and has always been there … directly available from Source if only I can allow.

As I think about the birthday boat ride from San Pedro to San Marcos, just a few hours ago, a new metaphor comes to mind. The windblown spray drenching us on that bumpy lancha is just like that readily available unconditional love, but in my fear and craziness, I would rather hide behind a protective tarp to stay as dry as possible.

“What if my hair and clothes get drenched and I have to wash them? And even worse, Heaven forbid if there is something dirty (colored by conditional love) in that water! How horrible would that be?”

So in my fears of getting drenched by loving waters … fears of having my energetic clothes and hair polluted in some way … I would rather protect myself from all love … unconditional and conditional … and instead simply hide behind a tarp.

I want to be a child again. I am tired of being a water-starved desert. I want to drop these protective defenses and play in the spray.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Friday morning, March 2, 2012, I am in a very good place, but remain quite emotionally drained. The last few days have been an exhausting roller coaster ride, taking me to the brink of giving up. I am now very much back in the passion of my process, and am being gentle with myself in the ‘rest department’. Rather than push myself, I spend the morning simply playing games and repairing a few torn seams in a skirt that I sometimes wear for chocolate ceremonies.

As I sit on Keith’s porch for the Friday afternoon ceremony, I am in total surrender, simply flowing with my process, prepared to go wherever intuitions and guidance may take me. Even before starting the “Glow Meditation”, Keith begins to work with a friend of mine – a friend who struggles with being there for her very magical little daughter. This work deeply triggers my own inner issues – issues with my own magical inner child – launching me with full force, right into my own process.

Metaphorical Bread Crumbs

Intuitive guidance takes me right back to where I left off with Keith yesterday – returning to the intense sadness of a tiny child who was giving up on life – beginning to again sense the inaccessible rage that hides just beneath the surface of the sadness.

Pains soon begin to form in my upper left abdomen, in the area of my pancreas.

“The pancreas is associated with insulin and the processing of sweetness.” I begin to ponder. “This metaphor is showing me that as a tiny child, I felt no sweetness for life … and that I struggled to find the joy and happiness.”

Other pains come and go, both in my abdomen and heart regions. An interesting pattern forms. All of these pains are on the left side of my body – on the feminine side. Then, I even feel aches pulsing in my right brain regions (also the feminine side).

“My feminine side was sad, angry, and profoundly suppressed at a very young age.” I cry mildly as I meditate through these metaphorical breadcrumbs.

As these emotions surface, I feel them deeply, but through it all I remain connected to peaceful loving energies.

I also note that I am suddenly beginning to be overwhelmed with more of that swirling head confusion – the feeling of my third-eye energies being stuck in the mud.

Alien Allegories

“Remember to take the light with you.” Keith briefly interrupts the glow meditation as he speaks to me.

“I think I am doing that.” I respond through my mild tears. “I invited the light and am remaining unidentified and not-attached to the pain. I am feeling it, crying through it, but not getting lost in it.”

“Good,” Keith congratulates me, “keep going.”

Immediately after the glow meditation, Keith returns to working with my friend. I watch with keen interest as he explains to her how she was a magical little girl, born into an alien world that was not yet ready for her magic – that she chose to be born in those circumstances so that she could be the age she is now at this time in the planetary shift.

All of these are things I also know to be true about me – Keith and I have discussed them several times. As Keith continues working with my friend, he points out how, as a child, no one understood her, she did not fit in or belong to that shut-down world, not relating to parents or siblings, feeling as if she herself were the alien.

A Place To Die

As I listen to this beautiful metaphorical description of what is also my own childhood emotion, I finally begin to access that intense reservoir of hidden rage. I begin to feel the intense putrid anger quite deeply as I ponder how I too was an alien, a genuine magical child, made wrong at every turn … and how everything I did from my pure and loving heart was rejected and turned upside-down by adults in such crazy-making and confusing ways. I ponder the emotions I felt when I, as that tiny innocent child, was subjected to such an invalidating and foreign state of powerlessness.

As I cry in a subdued manner, I continue to focus on the light while allowing myself to sink deeper into the rage, intentionally using that emotion as leverage to push through the intense complacency that continues to trap me in this powerlessness, even today. While engaged in this process, I again start to see myself in that cold, dark, dank, rancid, moldy, humid, putrid cave-like room – a room devoid of all love.

I soon imagine myself propping the door open with a stick, allowing a tiny breeze of love to flow into this hopeless place. As I do so, I focus on bringing in divine love from Mother Earth, and soon feel mild-but-minimal tingles flowing through my body. Intuitively, I feel the breeze in this dark room beginning to make a slight difference. The increased light energy triggers more of the rage – and I begin to feel even more intense anger at having felt stuck in this lonely room with no way out.

As the emotions flow, I literally return to the state I was in yesterday after an almost sleepless night – a state of hopelessness, self-loathing, giving up, knowing there is no way out, of wanting to die … of knowing that I will die here in this room.

A Blob Of Mush

When Keith eventually turns to work with me for the first time, I share details of my deep and profound meditative journey.

“Is your child, or any part of your child, in that room?” Keith surprises me by his question.

“Yes, I feel an aspect of my little child is still in this room.” I respond after a few minutes of deeply searching for a heart-felt answer.

“How does this child feel while you are bringing in this light and loving energy?” Keith continues his guidance.

“As I attempt to further connect, I’m again feeling that whimpering panic that is so familiar,” I respond.

“No, wait, I feel as if I am just talking from my head.” I interrupt Keith before he can continue. “Let me go in and actually connect with this child.”

“I think my child is numb and doesn’t care.” I finally share after a few minutes of meditation. “She is hopeless and powerless … she has given up … a blob of mush that is so numb that she simply does not care what happens anymore.”

Rotting In Hell

“This is where you were when you were shut down.” Keith validates my journey.

“Yeah,” I respond with recognition, “it is the same place where I was yesterday … a place of not wanting to live … of giving up.”

“Brenda,” Keith adds, “I’m getting another metaphor … comparing this state to being like you are ‘rotting in hell’.”

“That really rings true,” I respond, “and hell in my childhood religion is reserved for only the worst offenders … for murderers and adulterers. The emotions I feel are as if I am one of them … that I belong in hell. It is a hopeless place with no way out. I feel as if I am sentenced to be stuck here for eternity … with no hope for love or connection.”

Surrendering Control

As I try to imagine Higher Energies assisting me, I visualize myself taking my little inner child Sharon’s hand with my left hand, while reaching into the glowing room of my divine circle of friends with my right hand. I whimper and cry as I visualize myself being lifted up into more divine love. There is too much fear. I cannot seem to go there. Sharon remains in that dark, putrid room.

I soon imagine a tiny tunnel – a tiny channel being formed that connects my heart to the top of this dank and moldy room. I place a metaphorical door on this tunnel, attach a string to the door, and give that string to my inner child … telling Sharon that she can pull on this string whenever she wants to allow a little more love from my heart to trickle in, and that the door will automatically shut when she does not pull. I then lovingly tell Sharon that she is in control here … that she gets to decide when and if she allows this love … that I will not push her.

As I totally surrender control, I cry and whimper for a while as I feel more and more of the love-starved emotional agony. Meanwhile, I focus on something that I can do – I bring in peaceful energy from above, mostly through my crown. As I do so, much of the emotion begins to release. After a while, the agonizing emotions have completely vanished.

Continuing to surrender to the flow, I now observe that I am back in that swirling confusion of my third-eye chakra. Rather than resisting, I surrender to the swirling confusion, asking it to get bigger while I imagine a waterfall of liquid light flowing into my crown, through my third eye, and out my nose. The swirling goes on, and on, and on … with no apparent release in sight.

Water Torture

Soon, Keith checks in on my progress. When I share what I have been doing, he congratulates me.

“Do you have any suggestions for my process?” I ask, hoping for some magical guidance.

“No, you are doing great,” Keith responds, “just keep following the metaphors and see where they lead you.”

As I continue to sit with this swirling whirlwind of confusion energy, it soon switches into a thumping, ‘water torture’ feeling as light pulsing pressure and twitching repeatedly poke me at the top of my forehead, near the hairline, like heavy drops of water dripping constantly.

“Brenda,” Keith responds when I ask for more guidance. “See those twitches as something very positive that you need to allow and embrace.”

I release all judgments, allowing myself to see all of this crazy energy as positive. Even before, I was not resisting it, but now I fully encourage this energy to do whatever … to go wherever … while I fully surrender and just observe. As I do so, I experience a variety of shifting currents, and multiple forms of pulsing sensations.

The common denominator of all these energy pulses is that they give me that yes/no/yes/no/yes/no crazy-making feeling – the feeling that I am being energetically made-wrong, being mentally tortured, and driven crazy.

Balance And Surrender

Finally, a new idea intuitively pops into my awareness. I remember energy techniques that I learned during a sacred geometry class, while studying in a two-month healing course during the fall of 2010. These are techniques to calm and stabilize the energy flow in my head, balancing the pineal gland.

For five or ten minutes, I flow energy through my hands while using my hands to balance various energy channels in my head, each of which intersects at the center of my brain. As the energies in my head begin to calm, I shift my focus onto imagining a flow of energy that runs from crown to toes – using my imagination to connect my chakras.

As I engage in this energy balancing focus, the confusing energies in my third-eye chakra mostly fade. Soon, I sink deeper into surrendering to the flow of Higher Energies, having no rational-mind agenda.

“How are you doing, Brenda?” Keith eventually checks in with me again.

“I’m doing great.” I peacefully respond.

“Surrender and allow this energy to flow.” Keith guides me.

Squeamy

Eventually, intuitions guide me to relax my forearms as a part of this surrender and allow process. For the next ninety minutes, I focus all attention onto watching and observing the crazy fearful journey unfolding in my arms. In fact, the more I attempt to relax them, my forearms literally feel as they are going crazy with resistance and fear.

“Keith,” I explain after sharing my journey, “this is not just an energy of pain in my arms … it seems to be an energy of intense distraction and confusion. It is so uncomfortable that it is trying to make me stop. But it is not my muscles that are painful … I somehow know that it is extremely agitated energy.”

“Great observation, Brenda,” Keith congratulates me.

What Keith shares next completely surprises me.

“I have coined a word for this state,” Keith shares with a smile. “I call it squeamy. It is a cross between squirming and screaming. I experienced it many times in my own process, and my teachers talked about it a lot.”

Cellular Release

“Keith,” I add with surprise at this unexpected validation. “It feels like there is extreme fear in my forearms … as if they are in a panicked red-alert state. Even my abdomen and heart are showing real physical signs of a mild panic attack as I continue relaxing. The sensation in my forearms is that this is a matter of energetic life or death.”

“This is your body consciousness telling you that this IS a matter of life or death.” Keith responds. “Your body is telling you not to allow this to happen.”

“I have repeatedly tried to relax these forearms many, many times in the past,” I share new insights. “But I always quit because of this pain-and-panic feeling that overwhelms me when I try. Now, today I am not attached or identified with it … just watching it.”

“This is actual fear being released at the cellular level without mind involvement.” Keith shares with me multiple times during this enlightening conversation. “This is how it feels to release emotion without involving rational mind.”

I love how Keith continues to grin when he uses the word ‘squeamy’ over and over.

Roaming Squeamys

“Wow,” I repeat my amazement, “I have felt this many times, but I always stopped it because it was so confusing and crazy-making … as if there were an inner desperation to abort what I was doing … a distracting, panic-filled, absolute mandate to stop.”

“Keith,” I add quickly, “this feels a lot like that crazy-making swirling confusion energy in my head … only it is in my arms. This energy is extremely desperate to confuse me and to stop me from releasing this blockage. Is it possible that my swirls of confusion energy in my head were this same squeamy sensation?”

“Yes, that is a possibility.” Keith acknowledges.

To my surprise, as I continue relaxing, observing, and allowing, the ‘squeamy’ feeling gradually spreads at what I would describe as a snail’s pace. It first spreads from the center of my forearms all the way up until it consumes my elbows. Then it begins to spread downward toward my wrists while slowly receding from the elbows.

After about an hour of non-stop observation, the squeamy feeling is now sharply focused from about two-inches above my wrists, down through my palms, and all the way to the fingertips. I love how these sensations are moving around, confidently showing me that this is real energy movement and actual cellular emotional release. If the crazy pains remained static, in one place, it would be easy to rationalize that it was merely a physical muscular pain.

Intuitively, I absolutely know that this forearm clenching is deeply related to lifelong subconscious attempts to prevent the flow of Higher Energies through my body.

Giggling Trust

After a beautiful and fascinating squeamy journey with Keith as my guide, attention soon focuses elsewhere on the porch.

Near the end of the ceremony, a well-known author stops by the porch for a quick chat with Keith. She is in town teaching a writer’s workshop. At an appropriate moment, I make eye contact and remind her that I met her a year ago, and that I would love to buy her a meal sometime, just to chat. I totally understand when she replies that she would love to get together, but that she is too busy this time around. She adds that she will be back in San Marcos later this year, and that she would love to talk then.

“You’re a writer, aren’t you?” She then asks me.

“I’m not published,” I respond, “but I am working on my travel memoirs in blog form right now.”

“You are VERY published.” Keith emphasizes with a smile as he publicly compliments my writing.

I love this brief exchange, and totally look forward to whatever future interactions the flow of my being may bring. I giggle inside, because I am in a confident place of inner trust, knowing that if I need assistance from someone such as an established author, that it will just happen – that I do not need to force anything. The only thing I need to do right now is continue passionately engaging in the guidance of my present journey. The rest will take care of itself.

Optimism Abounds

Friday evening, as I rest on my pillow, I notice that my lower back is flowing more delightful energy, and that my abdomen feels much softer than it has been in a very long time. I love how the gradual physical changes seem to validate and encourage what I am doing. On a day-to-day basis, it is often difficult to notice the changes … but if I look back a year, or even a month, I am aware of constant and impressive changes to my energy.

Saturday, March 3, is a lazy and peaceful day as write and publish “Happy, Peaceful, And Drained.” It is a long day of writing, one that does not end until shortly after 8:00 p.m. – but as usual, it is well worth it. It seems that every time I write about events in my recent past, the integration and growth are profound and powerful.

Sunday morning, I find myself alive and immersed in optimistic energy. After spending a morning reading from the “Oneness” book by Rasha, and listening to “Abraham” videos, I am overflowing with positive energy as I sit on a pillow, eagerly awaiting the unknown flow of yet-another, never-the-same, chocolate ceremony.

Flowing With Love

During the early parts of the ceremony, I hold space for others while experiencing a great deal of energy flow in my head. And then, of course, as I relax my arms, that extremely familiar squeamy sensation consumes my upper wrists and hands.

Throughout the “Glow Meditation”, I envision myself in a raft, drifting downstream in the flow of Higher Energies, feeling those energies flow through me, feeling a sensation of additional softening in my abdomen. I continue to be somewhat shut down, but for the first time in forever, I have no metaphorical pains in my belly – and I seem to be making great progress in allowing in more self-love.

Kicked In The Gut

At one point, a new man on the porch gets quite confrontational. He is confused by misunderstandings (a language translation issue), and is deeply stuck in his head. In extreme ways, I see him as a dramatic mirror of my frustration at desperately wanting recipes and instructions – insisting that I need an old Shamanic model where someone like Keith will fix me, rather than making me figure out the impossible for myself.

This man does not want to have to look inside at his own issues, and he refuses to listen. Instead, he repeatedly asks deeply frustrated questions – yet when Keith attempts to answer, the man goes into panic and resistance, refusing to listen to the responses. In many ways, he is throwing a confusion tantrum – again reminding me of how I must have looked to my parents when I went into a complete state of chaotic confusion over what they were trying to teach me as an alien child.

Eventually, after watching this confusing conflict for a while – repeatedly drawing parallels to my own journey – I begin to feel deeply triggered. I isolate and go inside as tears start to stream down my cheeks and my solar plexus swells up with inner pains. I literally feel as if I were kicked in the gut.

Regressing To Past Pain

“You either need to stop your drama or leave the porch.” Keith eventually makes a firm-but-loving ultimatum.

Repeatedly, the man begins to leave, and repeatedly Paul convinces him to stay. As I observe from a detached state, the conflict, drama, and chaos are increasingly triggering me. Keith momentarily turns to me and asks how I am doing, while reminding me to not identify and attach with these childhood emotions.

Gradually, I am able to return to beautiful energy in my upper chakras – but my abdomen continues to twitch painfully with that kicked-in-the-gut feeling. I attempt to remain not-identified and unattached to these emotions – but a part of me deeply identifies.

I know this is childhood emotion that needs to surface and flow through me, and as I give myself permission to cry, I also focus on bringing in the light and love. In fact, I bring in a great deal of light through my crown. I attempt to bring in energy through my lower chakras, but remain quite blocked to the Divine Mother.

My focus on the light seems to be softening and transmuting the intense energies in my abdomen. The peaceful vibrations of energy seem to be gradually dissolving the densities, and I actually feel a small flow as the energies leave me. By the time Keith begins to prepare the group for an empath training, I am almost peaceful again, even in my abdomen.

Conflict Triggers

But suddenly, the struggling man again flares up in frustrating and angry resistance. Keith soon shares another loving ultimatum … telling him he either needs to stop the drama or leave the porch. For a while, Keith plays ‘bad cop’ while Paul plays ‘good cop’. I find it extremely agonizing to observe the conflict as the man melts into frustrated tears. Yet the conflict continues, the man will not listen, and Keith finally shares his loving ultimatum again.

As the man starts to walk away, Keith interrupts with a beautiful idea.

“Why don’t you pretend that you left,” Keith suggests to the man, “and then come back onto the porch, sit quietly in your chair as if you were not here, and then just observe while saying nothing. If you can listen without talking, you might be able to learn from what I am going to show the others.”

By now, I am crying again. I pull a scarf over my head while mild muffled sobs express themselves through me. I cannot watch the unfolding events. They are triggering deep feelings of childhood conflict.

Empathic Conflict

“Keith,” I express when asked how I am doing, “I don’t remember this conflict with my parents … but the emotions tell me it is very real … that I had to fight to try to be heard and validated. It was an intense battle of conflicting wills, and I always came out the loser.”

“And I remember being terrified of my brother.” I add. “He saw his taunting me as innocent teasing, but I saw his behavior as attacking conflict. When he got angry at me, I panicked in terror … much like I am feeling right now. All of my life I have been terrified of conflict … I have avoided it like the plague … I have avoided even the thought or appearance of it.”

“Brenda,” Keith adds further insight, “even if the conflict was not openly expressed in your family when you were a child, you were an empath around a society of people who were not allowed to express their conflict. You would have literally felt that unexpressed conflict screaming at you energetically, even in a room full of people pretending to be happy and civil.”

“That makes so much sense based on the crazy emotions I am experiencing.” I respond with recognition.

Heavy Tingles And Moving Energy

The more I peel back my layers of resistance, the more I seem to sink into emotional terror at the start of each and every empath training. Today, I am in so much emotional pain as the training begins that I block it out and detach. Instead, I focus on the confusing journey with conflict that continues to cause tears to flow down my cheeks.

As I meditate on my own, I repeatedly go into painful emotional nightmares around the issue of conflict … experiencing deep childhood terror surrounding actual or potential confrontation. Rational mind cannot explain what I feel. Suffice it to say that right now an intense terror runs through me … agonizing fear of conflict … excruciating pain surrounding the powerless feeling of having to shut myself down because of being helplessly on the losing end of that conflict.

By the end of the empath training, I am much more stable. Most of the emotions have passed through me. I can only assume that I released them to the angels and that they have been transmuted. I still doubt my energy sensitivities, but I know that during this release process, I felt very heavy energy tingles in my hands and abdomen … and I know that this energy in my abdomen was somehow moving out of me.

Opposite Ends

As the ceremony fades, both Paul and I remain behind on the porch with Keith. Soon, Paul unexpectedly engages me in a conversation, asking me about the emotions I was feeling during part of his work where I was crying while he too was crying.

A pleasant conversation unfolds regarding our varying views of conflict. It soon becomes clear why the two of us are playing opposite ends of the same script. Paul seems to thrive on conflict. He enjoys pushing and getting angry at others, believing it to be a healthy form of speaking his truth and creating change. On the other hand, I feel deeply frightened and disempowered at even the thought of potential conflict. In the past, I rarely openly disagreed with people in my life, because of the fear that such disagreement would surely lead to conflict. Now, as I learn to courageously speak my own truth, I am learning to verbally express my true self … but doing so where potential conflict is involved continues to trigger me deeply.

“Brenda, just get your courage up and go into it when things happen.” Paul starts to give me advice about how to go into conflict.

Paul’s advice is the last thing I want to accept, because learning to embrace and eagerly go into conflict is the last thing I want to do. Instead, I want to journey deep inside to understand my fears and childhood issues surrounding conflict.

“Paul,” I respond, “thanks, but you are in your head, with head advice. What you are saying might be accurate for situational stuff where you need to face your fears, but I am wanting to go deeper into exploring subconscious patterns that cannot be handled in the mind.”

Perceived Misconception

Soon our conversation shifts into the area of pushing other people’s buttons and triggers.

“Keith has pointed out to me that I have ‘love’ and ‘button-pushing’ hooked together in some ways.” Paul expresses genuine insights.

“Yeah,” I try to explain. “I understand that you do that. I just want to say, that in my way of thinking, I would never enjoy any type of relationship with anyone who intentionally tried to push my buttons as a way to trigger my growth. That is definitely not my idea of fun, or of a loving relationship style that would work for me.”

“Pushing buttons is not a good way to trigger people into growth.” I attempt to explain to Paul.

“But that is the same thing that Keith does when he works with people.” Paul explains to me. “He connects with them and challenges them where they need to grow.”

“No, that is not at all what Keith does,” I begin a futile attempt to explain to Paul about his bizarre misconception.

Slammed For My Truth

“Brenda,” Keith abruptly and forcefully cuts me off. “You need to allow Paul to have his truth and quit trying to be right. Let him have his truth and you can have your own and I can have my own. This behavior of trying to be right has gotten you into trouble your whole life. As a healer, you can never function with trying to be right with clients. Just let it go.”

I feel deeply attacked by Keith’s confusing words. I know I am right. I know that Keith knows I am right. His words deeply stab me. I feel like a tiny child trying to explain a pure divine truth to my parents – a truth that I know deeply in my heart – yet I am being slammed by my parents, unable to feel validated, unable to be heard and understood … and desperately wanting to explain and defend the unjust and unfounded attack on me.

I feel as if Keith is telling me that Paul is right, and when I look over at Paul, I see that Paul believes the same thing. The smug look in his eyes tells me that he is delighted that Keith is validating him and slamming me.

I literally feel like a three-to-six year old child, sitting with my parents. Keith is playing my father and Paul is playing my mother. Both are now condescending and lecturing me. Keith’s tone is very authoritative and somewhat angry as he speaks in a lecturing tone. Several times, as I attempt to defend and explain myself, I actually tell Keith that he is unjustly lecturing, speaking to me as a little child.

“It doesn’t matter whether this situation is real or contrived,” Keith slams me some more. “This is a real and deep core issue that is coming up now because it is time to move it. You cannot be a healer if you have to be right about everything … if you cannot allow others to have their own version of the truth.”

Humiliated And Angry

“Keith,” I try to explain a new and sudden insight. “In most situations I have no problem allowing others to have their own truth. It is only in deeply personal situations, when trying to explain deep emotional issues of the heart that …”

Keith again cuts me off and lectures me for not listening.

“You do this with everything,” Keith insists. “You need to stop needing to be right.”

I feel horrible, like I am being unjustly reamed by my parents. It is a feeling that resonates as being deeply familiar – from childhood, during my marriage, with children, and in an occasional friendship.

“Remember how your extended family member and a former friend slammed you on Facebook.” Paul smugly throws in his brilliant wisdom. “I can see this pattern so clearly.”

Paul has no idea what I am really going through right now. I perceive him as a condescending know-it-all, coming from a place of seeing a behavior, but having no inner license to understand it, no compassion or true recognition of the underlying issues. I would love to reach out and slap Paul right now, but instead, I completely ignore his words.

He is really enjoying this scenario where he is “right” and I am “wrong”. I feel humiliated and angry at Keith for putting me in this situation.

Releasing Rightness

Every time that I attempt to simply explain my feelings to Keith, he cuts me off and lectures me some more. This process goes on for at least ten or fifteen minutes.

Finally, I interrupt in extreme protest, insisting that I be given the respect that I deserve – demanding that I be listened to and heard without my genuine statements being invalidated.

“That may be so,” Keith acknowledges my genuine statements of self-defense, “but you still need to go inside and face this issue, blah, blah, blah.”

I feel angry and victimized by my parents. I am increasingly beginning to recognize that this is not the normal Keith that I am talking to … that this has to be a role-play. It is so unusual, and is perfectly taking me back into emotions of childhood. I just want to run away … to pout and cry for days … I want closure.

In the midst of this frustrating, lecture-filled conversation, Keith actually does agree with the original point I had tried to make, but he is skillfully taking me into a real core issue, triggering my deep pain in a brilliant way that seems real and profound. Paul remains clueless of the fact that Keith is skillfully role-playing for me, taking me into childhood emotions.

I want to discuss my role-play theory with Keith, but realize it would be futile to do so while Paul is still here. Paul remains clueless and somewhat gloating. I decide I do not need to be right in Paul’s eyes, and that I can wait to talk to Keith until after Paul leaves. In the meantime, I begin to let go of my intense identification with and attachment to this crazy-making confusion.

Please Disengage

Right before Paul finally leaves, he launches into a beautiful rational-mind description telling me how I can get over my issue … telling me how deeply he understands what I am struggling with … blah, blah, blah.

First, I just put my fingers in my ears, making my point with a physical gesture. Then I realize how childish this is and simply decide to speak up.

“Paul,” I beg for some sanity, “can you please just disengage.”

Paul reluctantly stops preaching and soon vacates the porch.

A Brilliant Reenactment

“Keith,” I express with a smile, “I think I get it. What you are brilliantly showing me, whether you are role-playing or not, is that I cannot explain my truth to Paul, because no matter how many times I might try to say it or to explain it, he would not be able to hear it. It would not matter how right (or wrong) I am… he will not hear it, and there is no point in getting into that debate with him right now.”

To my delight, Keith then readily admits that has been role playing – and that he agrees with the original truth I had attempted to share with Paul.

“Paul is simply not in a place where he understands right now.” Keith smiles at me.

“That was brilliant.” I giggle back at Keith. “Thank you so much for showing me this intensely profound trigger. I literally did feel as if I were being unjustly lectured by concerned and frustrated parents … slammed for simply trying to express real truth to someone who could not hear it. It gave me first-hand understanding of the confusion and futility I felt as a child when I attempted to express my heart-based truth to my parents.”

“I can clearly see why I have ‘love’ hooked so tightly with ‘conflict and rejection’.” I continue. “When I spoke from my heart, I was powerless to defend or explain myself … to explain how I knew something. Today, this little role-play took me right into the gut-wrenching emotional pain of this reenactment.”

Rather Be Happy

“Paul really does believe that you heal people by pushing them.” I express new clarity to Keith. “He believes that you push them into changing … and that is why he continues to try to push on the porch … why he is still trying to show you how to do things better … because HE doesn’t believe that YOU fully get how to do it right.”

“But I also clearly recognize,” I admit with newfound humility, “that no amount of explaining or teaching right now would convince him otherwise. That would not serve him in any way.”

I feel so much better. I was so perched on the edge of sinking into an old loop, and then sulking about it … of feeling horrible and miss-accused. But instead, I was able to get the lesson the easy way. I felt the pain, but did not fully identify with it … not fully attaching to it. I listened to and observed what was going on, experienced the pain to the core, intuitively began to understand what was really happening, and then brought in higher energies to help me release the confusion and beliefs.

“The lesson truly is,” I express my understanding to Keith, “that I continue to get deeply attached to being right when it involves an issue of my heart … especially when confronted by someone like Paul with whom I have a long history of agonizingly painful projections.”

“It comes down to one of my favorite ‘A Course In Miracles’ principles,” I explain new clarity. “Trying to be right never is a source of happiness. I would rather be happy.”

Adult Discernment

“Brenda,” Keith shares new wisdom. “As a child, you were unable to discern when to try to speak your truth and when it would not be helpful … and so you got into deep trouble with parents and were shut down as a result. But as an adult, you now have the ability to discern when it is appropriate to try to explain a truth to someone else, and when it is appropriate to simply back away and let them have their own truth … no matter how wrong you may believe their truth to be.”

“Wow,” I thank Keith. “This is so true … I do not need to be right … Paul can believe whatever he wants to believe. This was so charged for me because of my intense history of projections with him. This has been a profound and brilliant lesson. Thank you so much for helping me to learn it at an experiential level.”

I have long understood this principle at a rational-mind level, but today I was given the profound gift of understanding it from the level of the heart.

A Winged Visitor

In the past, such a role-play experience with Keith would have left me devastated, angry, and deeply looping in emotions. I am delighted that tonight I am giggling and on top of the world. I am quite proud of myself for being so quick to recognize that the emotions that were being triggered – and the situation doing the triggering – were simply showing me old stuff that had nothing to do with the present. I am even more delighted that I was able to learn this lesson without the pain of fully identifying with and attaching to those deeply agonizing emotions.

I am in such a positive mood after this life-altering experience, that I am able to spend two passionate days writing nearly nonstop. On Monday, March 5, 2012, I write and publish “A Powerful Exclamation Point”, and on Tuesday I eagerly write, “A Humbling Journey.”

At 4:59 p.m. on Tuesday afternoon, just as I begin my final editing, I giggle as a tiny sparrow flies into my kitchen and perches on the door next to my refrigerator. He then flutters around my kitchen area, hopping from place to place, before quickly disappearing back out onto the patio a minute later.

This is the first sparrow to visit me in a while. He could not have come at a more beautiful time – seemingly congratulating me for an amazing five-day journey – congratulating me for spreading my wings and letting go of what could have so easily become a reason to feel deeply betrayed.

Winged Wonder

These two days of ceremony and three days of writing have indeed been eventful and profound. I took an intense journey through childhood sadness, experiencing a deeper understanding of the confusing confusion that muddied my world, and I began to get a profound education into the concept of “squeamy” – of releasing deep emotions at a cellular level without involving the rational mind.

And then, wow did I ever take a dive into the deep-end of the emotional pool, profoundly exploring, in an experiential way, the childhood feelings surrounding that emotional nightmare called conflict. I could not imagine a more beautiful day in which conflict was first modeled for me in an external way. After sinking into the childhood emotions of terror surrounding conflict, I was then sucked head first into the currents in a crazy-making role-play with Keith – one involving conversational conflict with Paul.

That profound lesson was more valuable than anything I could have ever gotten from a book. I remembered, at a deep level, exactly how it felt to explain my genuine heart-felt truth, only to be slammed and blindsided by adults who simply were not in a place where such truth could be accepted. In my desperate attempts to be right I only made things worse – a pattern that I have played out for decades – a pattern that is finally exposed in a painful way that I will never forget.

And I am so grateful to a tiny little sparrow who again stopped by to congratulate me with winged wonder, reminding me that my time to fly is now.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

When I first hear Keith talk about traveling with a young Mayan friend of mine (I will call her Rosa) to Guatemala City, my ears perk up with interest. She is interested in expanding her ability to cook – something she enjoys and something that will increase her ability to earn a little extra money. Keith is taking Rosa to a modern bookstore to let her choose an assortment of cookbooks, and he is generously picking up the tab.

“I would love to tag along on the journey.” I share my interest with Keith. “An intuitive feeling tells me I need to get more familiar with Guatemala City, and this would be the perfect opportunity. Would that be OK?”

I am delighted when Keith encourages me to join in, pointing out that Rosa would likely enjoy my company, and that my assistance in translating would be greatly appreciated.

Getting To Guate

It is early Monday morning, February 27, 2012. I am up at 3:50 a.m., scurrying around my apartment to cook a quick bowl of oatmeal and pack a small backpack before Keith and Rosa meet up at my apartment.

Soon, Rosa runs up the steps to let me know they are both here. Seconds later, we begin a rushed thirty-minute walk to a neighboring village. There are no Tuk-Tuks at 4:45 in the morning, and we are hoping to catch a bus that passes through San Pablo around 5:20 a.m.. The skies are still black when we arrive at the center of nearby San Pablo with just a few minutes to spare. I am almost wheezing from the rapid walking that took us up three steep hills. These are the first hints of asthma symptoms that I have experienced in nearly three years of travel. In my pre-travel days, my exercise-induced asthma would surely have acted up much worse from such vigorous walking.

A few minutes later the chicken-bus from San Pedro to Guate pulls up to the curb where we are eagerly waiting. The name “Guate” is a nickname the local people use for Guatemala City. After an hour of winding up and down the switchback-and-pothole-filled roads that take us over the mountains surrounding Lake Atitlan, we finally arrive at the main inter-American highway. Another three hours after that, our crowded refurbished school bus arrives at our final destination – a chaotic bus-crowded street in the heart of Guatemala City.

A Panic-Filled Passport Process

After another brisk thirty-minute walk down a noisy and dirty traffic-laden street, the three of us arrive at our first stop – a huge indoor “Mercado” (market). Rosa has never been to such a large market – a market filled with many square blocks of tiny crowded aisles of makeshift mom-and-pop vendor booths selling their wares – a place where the interested shopper can find just about anything from spices, hardware, clothing, nuts, fruits, meats, and even pig heads.

Soon, we are off on another hurried walk as we make our way down a series of crowded streets toward the immigration office where Keith needs to retrieve his passport. While there, I make a quick decision – a decision to face my own fear at doing something new – a decision to submit my own passport into the system. This is my first time ever facing the red-tape bureaucracy of doing a three-month visa renewal at the “migracion” office in the capitol city. For some crazy reason, the thought of doing this complicated process all by myself induces a feeling of gut-wrenching panic.

Seconds after making my decision, I rush into a crazy process – first filling out papers – then running downstairs and out onto the street to make passport copies and get photos – back upstairs to wait in line to talk to a customs agent where he fills out more papers. Then I go to a different window, after which I run back downstairs to a bank, pay a few fees, and run back up to wait for the original agent to complete my paperwork.

I am quite proud of myself when, more than an hour later, after communicating entirely in Spanish, I have faced my fears and the process is complete – except for the fact that I now need to return to Guatemala City all by myself, in about two weeks, to retrieve my passport.

Contentment And Gratitude

It is early afternoon when Keith, Rosa, and I complete another long walk back to our original bus stop, where we then catch a city bus for the whopping sum of about thirteen cents each – a bus that will take us to a very modern shopping mall.

I note with somber interest that an armed guard carrying a loaded automatic weapon stands at the front of the beat-up old bus – an obvious reminder that Guatemala City has an issue with crime. But when we arrive at the mall, I literally feel as if I am back in the United States – as if I am walking in any safe and beautiful shopping center back home.

Two hours later, we divide up a heavy stack of newly-purchased cookbooks, each of us carrying a portion of the precious payload as we pay “one Quetzal” to ride a city bus back to our original chicken-bus stop. Ten minutes later, we are on a 2:30 p.m. bus that whisks us away on the four-hour journey back to Lake Atitlan.

After a short Tuk-Tuk ride, I am finally back in my apartment in San Marcos just shortly after 7:00 p.m.. It has been a very long and exhausting day – a day of over two hours of walking and eight hours of bumpy, bouncing, crowded buses – my feet are killing me, while contentment and gratitude fill me with peaceful love.

Keith and I participated in a beautiful service today, and for the first time ever, I spent time in Guatemala City (other than landing in an airport and zooming away in a taxi).

Feedback And Knowing

Early Tuesday morning I take the opportunity to finish watching the final episode of the Star Wars saga before walking out to Keith’s magical porch to assist in a private chocolate ceremony that will begin at 10:00 a.m.. Even though such extra ceremony days cause me to slip further behind in my writing, I love participating in such private groups.

My energy today does not feel especially powerful, but I am happy, connected, and ready to hold powerful space for others. During the first couple of hours in the ceremony, I do just that. I giggle inside when Keith eventually interrupts while I am working with one woman.

“Can you feel what you are doing?” Keith asks the woman. “You are releasing a lot of density out of your feet, letting it go to Brenda.”

As I listen to Keith talk, I am deeply grateful for his words. My hands are tingling, and I do feel a lot of power in my heart – yet I am so shut down in the area of sensitivity that I really do not fully understand what it is that I am doing.

“In fact,” Keith further surprises me while talking to the group, “most of you in this corner are releasing density through Brenda. Brenda is good at working with entire groups of people.”

As I continue to hold space and assist, I can only trust that Keith’s words are true. I feel confident and unconcerned by my cluelessness as to the scope of what I am doing. I trust that right now I do not need to know what I am doing – that I can simply ask my heart to do whatever it does, and that the knowing I need will come when it is time.

Holding Divine Hands

Eventually, I sit back on my own cushion. I feel tired and know it is time to do a little “me” meditation. I trust that Keith will call on me if I am needed to assist.

As Keith works with a woman next to me, he suggests that she connect to her angels/guides/Higher-Energy with one hand and to her inner child with the other. Intuition causes me to follow along in her process. Soon, I am imagining myself back in a meditation from nearly a year ago, standing reluctantly in a hallway just outside of a room that glows with brilliant light. Inside that room are all of my Higher Dimensional friends – Higher Beings that I have known for many lifetimes – a circle of friends that are now supporting me during my earthly journey. (See June 23, 2011 blog titled “Circles Of Friends”.)

As I try to imagine myself finally walking through this glowing doorway, I still cannot find the ability to do so … but I somehow do find the courage to reach an imagined hand through the open doorway. Then, I ask my inner children to take my other hand. As I do so, visualizing my friends grasping my hands with loving divine support, I tear up in a mixture of both joyful emotions and intense fear. I am deeply touched by this image.

A Divine Lift

When Keith guides the woman next to me to imagine herself lying down and giggling in a mud puddle, I do the same, visualizing myself in the mud, still holding the hands of my angelic friends. I imagine my circle of friends lifting me out of the mud while little Bobby and Sharon use magic wands to remove all the dripping slimy mud from my skin and clothing.

Then, another metaphor intuitively presents itself – one Keith often shares with people. I see myself standing at the bottom of an un-climbable wall of glass – an obstacle in my path that I cannot cross using rational mind – an obstacle that can only be passed with the assistance of Higher Energy.

As I imagine my circle of friends lifting me, I feel them flying me into the air, showing me the possibilities – making it quite clear that they have the ability to lift me over that wall. As I intuitively feel myself suspended in the air by the pure love of my friends, I cry some more, again shedding tears mixed with both joyful and fearful emotions.

I recognize that I am not yet being taken over the wall, but am being given a powerful meditative glimpse into the possibilities of where I am headed.

Releasing Fear And Resistance

Soon, Keith leads the group in an empath training – one that again causes me to sink further into my ongoing process. As I contemplate the buildup of pains in my abdomen, I begin to get the feeling that these pains are not emotional densities at all – that they are pains caused by intense fearful resistance regarding the consequences of reopening this level of magical awareness.

As Keith guides the group, I disengage and focus my intent on allowing fears and resistance to be released to the metaphorical angels. By the end of the training, I have completely relaxed my body. I continue to feel some painful blockage, but am glowing with light and peaceful energy. I am even more convinced that the remaining pains – at least the layers I am experiencing today – continue to be fear and resistance.

Soon, I am back in my “mud meditation” – imagining my circle of friends and inner children lifting me out of the quicksand of rational mind that has me trapped. As I do this, intense tears again begin to surge inside me. I attempt to keep them mostly in check, not wanting to make a personal scene in this private ceremony.

A Faint Flow

Next, Keith mixes things up by throwing in an unexpected meditation. It is one with which I am quite familiar, but to my surprise, many parts of it feel brand new.

First, Keith guides us to feel an energy that supports us from below – an energy that metaphorically equates to being held in the palm of God, or sitting in the lotus of the Buddha.

As I focus on finding this energy, I instead encounter a feeling of emptiness – of being unable to feel anything.

“I am unable to bring in such motherly love from the Divine Mother Earth,” I think to myself in confusion. “I feel nothing at all.”

After finding this energy, Keith guides people to send down roots from this energy – roots that reach to the very center of the earth. Next, as we use these roots to pull energy up from the Divine Mother, I manage to feel a very tiny flow of mild energy in my lower two chakras, but this faint flow gets deeply stuck at the base of my solar plexus.

Dark, Dank And Depressing

“Now,” Keith guides, “bring up the energy to support your heart. Imagine the scent of the lotus fragrance drifting up to your heart, even if it is just a drop or two.”

As I focus on this process, I begin to be overwhelmed by deep fear – profound inexplicable fear and near panic.

“Motherly love is not allowed in my heart.” I ponder with deep painful insight. “I am afraid of it.”

After completing this beautiful meditation, Keith unexpectedly guides the entire group deep into their subconscious, walking down and down, deeper and deeper into the subconscious mind, ending up somewhere in our heart or solar plexus.

To my shock, in a very vivid intuitively perceived visualization, I find myself frightened and isolated in my solar plexus. I am in a very dark, cold, putrid cave-like room. The walls are damp and smelly, covered with slimy mold and mildew. The dank and dark cavern is disgustingly devoid of love – undeserving of love.

Intuitively I feel as if a thick layer of steel reinforcement prevents any love from entering.

Shocking And Overwhelming

“I hate my mother’s love,” unexpected words flow strongly into my mind. “I am disgusted by what that love feels like.”

(NOTE: I love my mother very much – and I absolutely know that she loved me as well. She loved me with all of her heart, in the only way she knew how. What I am writing about here is not the reality of my mother’s love, but is instead the colored and filtered perceptions of a lost and frightened child who was incapable of clearly perceiving the real love that my mother had for me.)

As I ponder these surprising feelings, I begin to realize that the only real memories I have of feeling an unconditional connection with my mother during my younger years were at around age three or four when we occasionally hugged each other during moments of brief connectedness. From age five and older, I have only memories of being annoyed by what I felt was her constant nagging – by her attempts to keep me on a loving straight-and-narrow path. She did it with pure genuine intention, but I felt as if her love was always focused on manipulating me to be better – as if it were conditional, based on my obedience and conformity to her teachings.

I learned at a very young age that I could not perceive my mother’s love unless I was pleasing her.

“I hate love.” The agonizing words flow uncontrollably through my mind. “I hate love … I hate love … I hate love … I hate love.”

The level of disgust and hatred for what I, as a child, perceived as love is shocking and overwhelming.

Judge The Sinner

In later brainstorming, I clearly see that this “hatred at love” had nothing to do with my mother. I felt the same manipulation and control from nearly all adults in my life – family, extended family, some friends, and even total strangers. It stems from the deep conditioned awareness that punishment, judgment, and perceived withholding of love, were the result of stepping out of the box – that these “sins” of being different could not be tolerated.

A concept of “loving the sinner, but not loving the sin” was a predominant force in how I perceived the teachings of my religion. The only problem was that most people (in my perception), in their attempt to reject the vilified sin (no matter how miniscule), invariably ignore and ostracize the “sinner” as well, because they feel as if loving a person who is committing a sin is somehow endorsing and enabling that sin to continue. In this twisted logic, the only way that someone in such a mindset can help another to “stop sinning” is to withhold love – to make them feel like an outcast.

So as a youth, absolutely understanding this judgmental behavior to my core (from personal experience, personal observation, and via being an empath), I did my best to be perfect – to hide my true self and my horrible sins. True or not, I absolutely knew that I would not be loved if those evil inner feelings were made public – I absolutely knew that the love others had for me was conditional – conditioned on my conformance.

In an agonizingly painful way, as I write these words I recognize that a hidden portion of this conditioning continues to live inside of me in the way I perceive the behavior of others.

Outside The Door

At the end of this shocking “I hate love” meditation, I am crying quite strongly-but-silently – attempting to minimize my noise while piling up the tissues. I wish I cold permit this intense emotion to burst forth, but hesitate because I am assisting in a private ceremony.

As the ceremony reaches perceived conclusion, Keith asks if anyone has anything else they would like to work on. After a several minute meditation gap where no one speaks up, I decide to open my mouth.

“I would love some help.” I express to Keith as I briefly explain my painful meditative journey.

Seconds later, Keith asks a woman to sit in front of me, touching my feet, assisting me in bringing in the Divine Mother energy. I begin to cry deeply as I struggle to allow this love.

“Open your eyes and look at her.” Keith points to the women in front of me. “She doesn’t have any conditions, doesn’t care if you receive it or not, and doesn’t care what you did or do … she is just making the Divine Mother energy available to you.”

“Yeah,” I respond as I stare at this beautiful and peaceful face. “I feel this love’s purity and unconditional nature. I feel it just outside the door. I feel how beautiful and safe it is … how nonjudgmental it is … how peaceful it is … but I don’t seem to be able to let it come into my disgusting, dark, dank, and moldy room.”

Tiny Tidbits

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “just find the door to the room and open it to let a little bit of the love come in.”

“When I open the door,” I respond after meditative attempts, “I feel it immediately swing closed again.”

“Just open it to let a little in,” Keith gently encourages. “Then let it close. Let the little bit that comes in do whatever it does to build trust.”

“It feels peaceful, calming, and not threatening.” I respond a few minutes later.

“Open the door and let in a little more.” Keith guides.

We repeat this process several more times. Gradually I feel more and more tiny tidbits of love enter this room.

Shared Visualizations

Eventually, I experience weird twitching in my solar plexus, as if something is kicking and poking me from the inside.

“Trust this as part of the process.” Keith guides me. “This is what it felt like when your mother controlled and manipulated you with love. It literally felt like being kicked or poked on the inside. You have to go through this same process during the undoing.”

I observe this bizarre inner kicking for a while. It feels as if huge gas bubbles are popping in my solar plexus, actually twitching and poking me in bizarre spasms. After about twenty minutes, the inner turmoil fades at about the same time that the chocolate ceremony fades to natural conclusion.

I find myself in a very good place. The woman who was sending me Divine Mother energy soon shares that she actually saw my dark, dank, disgusting, moldy room. Keith gives me similar feedback, sharing that he too saw that room. I never actually saw it as a visual, but I vividly felt its putrid, rank, disgusting nature.

Conditionally Delivered

As I gather up my belongings, I feel the significance of the progress I made today – progress that continues to provide more insight into understanding these crazy pains in my solar plexus. It becomes increasingly apparent that many if not most of these pains are indeed related to a wall of resistance to allowing Divine Feminine love to reach my heart.

“Could this be another strong clue to my ‘blown fuse’?” I ponder with curiosity.

I am quite pleased that, at least for today, I received more trust-building glimpses reassuring me that energy can indeed flow into my lower chakras.

In a short conversation with Keith after the ceremony, he makes it very clear that my dear mother loved me very much – and that she loved me in the only way she knew how – with that conditional coloration.

I know she loved me deeply … and I know that because of that love, and the culture in which we were both raised that it was absolutely mandatory for her to control and manipulate me into conforming to the beliefs of our religion. I clearly recognize that all of her discipline, nagging, and punishments were done from a loving stance – an act of desperation to keep me safely in the fold.

I am also pleased that I am increasingly learning to understand the intricate complexities of love delivered in a conditional way.

Peace To Distraction

After a rushed morning of shopping across the lake, I barely make it back to San Marcos in time to hurry over to Keith’s porch.

In no way could I possibly be prepared for the emotional turmoil and trauma that awaits me.

When the chocolate ceremony begins, I am in beautiful energy, bringing in peaceful vibrations while imagining myself working with the Divine Mother meditations that had so profoundly touched me yesterday.

“Brenda, there is a very beautiful energy here today.” Keith had surprised me early before the glow meditation. “If you connect with it, it can help you go where you want to go.”

“I am already deeply connected to that energy,” I respond to Keith. “In fact, I believe I am helping to anchor it into place.”

But as this statement leaves my lips, I realize I have suddenly slipped into my head, starting to think about what I am doing rather than just BEING what I am doing. By the end of the glow meditation, I feel deeply distracted by language translations, noises, interruptions, and head chatter as Keith begins to work his way around the porch.

Damned Regardless

After more than an hour, when Keith finally turns to me, I begin to share my crazy journey – a journey beginning with beautiful energy and now being plagued by very distracted, confused, angry, anxious, and agitated emotions.

“I literally feel as if I regressed back to my childhood again.” I express my confusion. “The emotions I feel right now make no sense based on present reality – yet these emotions ARE very real. I am feeling the sensation of being horrendously nagged and manipulated … taking me back to that feeling of ‘I hate this kind of love’ that I had yesterday.”

“I’m struggling, trying to figure out what to do.” I express frustration to Keith. “I don’t know if I just need to sit and feel these emotions, if I need to cry, or if I need to try to bring in light, …”

Keith congratulates me on my awareness, and points out that my need for rules, recipes, and handholding guidance is a part of this confusion.

“You don’t know what to do,” Keith guides me, “because as a child, no matter what you did, it was wrong.”

“I was always in that damned if I do and damned if I don’t spot.” I share with Keith. “My true heart was always wrong, rejected, and getting me into trouble. Following my parents did not feel good.”

Observing Emotional Eruptions

“I’m getting physically nauseas.” I share with Keith. “It hurts. As a child, I had tons of intestinal and digestion pains. I am wondering if that was my only childhood way of getting real loving attention in a way that would not get me into trouble. Such pains gave me a valid reason to be crying.”

Keith agrees that I am onto something with this new line of thought. I begin to observe these pains while asking the light to support and assist me. Gradually I relax and the pains subside – yet the emotions continue and I isolate from the group, lost in emotion, simply sitting on my pillow and feeling.

At one moment while working with Keith, I begin to sink deeply into agonizing emotion. I smile when at that precise moment Paul jumps up and begins to create disturbance by running around and passing out more chocolate.

“Just like clockwork.” I whisper to Keith while continuing to explore these emotions.

On another occasion, when I slip into the kitchen to pour chocolate for a new arrival, I almost break down into sobs while in the kitchen. But seconds later, after stuffing the emotions and returning to my seat (doing exactly what I did as a child), I simply melt into the invisible framework of the porch – disappearing to numbness and isolation while continuing to observe at a different level for the remainder of the ceremony.

Indignant Projections

As the ceremony concludes, I remain behind to hold space for the processing of one person who is deeply struggling. This person’s work leads me to profoundly recognize a painful pattern in my own life – one that has repeatedly played out. The pattern tells me that I have the act of receiving Divine Love as being hooked and equivalent to rejection, abandonment, and being alone.

“I’m not sure I want Divine Love.” I share these insights with Keith. “Conditional love hurt, but it kept me in the box. Divine love took me out of the box, and when I left the box, I met nothing but rejection and abandonment.”

As these words leave my lips, I being to sob, deeply experiencing those emotions of abandonment, as if they were in the present-day.

“You have moved some very deep stuff today.” Keith congratulates me.

But in my state of still being lost in unbelievably strong waves of emotion, I am not really sure if congratulations are in order. I have little trust in what I have been doing.

Keith momentarily steps into his house to add a layer of clothing for the cool evening air. As he does so, I witness the behavior of another person – behavior that triggers me into a state of deep judgment, anger, and projection. My professional ethics as a not-yet licensed counselor launch me into a state of unexpressed indignation. In retrospect, I can see how such events were innocent and lovingly motivated – but at the time, my projections and imagination were at full strength.

A Series Of Slams

I will not provide details – suffice it to say that a few minutes later, when Keith and I are alone on the porch, I attempt to express my concerns.

“Brenda, those are your projections.” Keith gets sternly frustrated and impatient with me.

“Keith,” I angrily respond. “I am not sure if I want to be part of an environment where such things are allowed and ignored.”

For a few minutes, I feel as if Keith and I are deeply arguing – I perceive that I am being unjustly slammed for my genuine attempts to express real valid concern. I am so engulfed in my feelings of betrayal and abandonment that I am prepared to stomp out angrily and never return. I actually do stomp halfway down the garden steps before turning to further engage Keith.

“I’m too emotional right now … I won’t be here to help with bagging chocolate tonight … I don’t think I can do it.” I express to Keith regarding his plans to bag 250 pounds of freshly ground chocolate that is probably on its way back from the mill as we speak.

I am then blown away by how this statement results in what I, in my childhood emotional state, perceive as an absolute slamming rejection from Keith. I feel as if I am being made into the bad guy here – being blamed for my incapacitated emotional state. I know that I am not really needed – that there will be plenty of others to help with the bagging.

In retrospect, as I write about these events, I can now see that all of this is a beautiful stage play – a setup showing me exactly what happened to me as a child – but at the time I am extremely devastated and feel deeply abandoned by someone who should treat me with loving compassion.

Bullied And Manipulated

“Brenda,” Keith points out, “you are on the edge of sinking into another deep loop of isolation, resentment, and judgment. Remember that you can choose to go into this loop, or you can refuse to take the bait. The choice is yours.”

“I will go home and put on some jeans and grab a sandwich.” I mumble in frustrated emotional tones. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Whatever you choose is fine.” Keith lovingly reassures me.

I absolutely do not want to come back. I feel bullied and manipulated into coming back – as if Keith’s loving words were used to shame, control and manipulate me (another beautiful stage play of what happened to me as a child).

After a quick round trip for two peanut butter sandwiches and a banana, I soon arrive back on Keith’s depressing porch. Others are giggling, laughing, and interacting with each other in happy magic. I sit over in a corner, double-checking weights on a scale, struggling not to burst out into emotional sobs – struggling to keep my eyes open from the exhaustion of such an intense emotional journey.

I use the evening to wallow and ponder in my misery, struggling to remain the observer and to not get further lost in the trauma and drama.

Several times Keith walks over and touches my arm.

“How are you doing?” He asks with a loving, concerned glow in his eye.

“Struggling, but surviving.” I respond.

Eventually, during one of these check-ins, Keith reassures me that it would be OK if I need to go home. I refuse to leave, sulking in my misery, continuing to feel quite resentful regarding how I felt manipulated into being here against my better judgment – against my own personal needs and wishes. All I want to do is go to bed and sob in a pile of tears.

Running Is Not An Option

It is after 10:00 p.m. when I finally enter my apartment and sit down at my computer. I am lost in a state of angry childhood confusion – so angry and confused that I struggle to recall even the basic details of what took place this afternoon. After nearly an hour of angrily and numbly typing notes, I am more upset than ever. Perhaps “pissed” would be a more accurate word.

“I am pissed, pissed, pissed.” I scream out in deep gut-wrenching sobs.

In my present state, I am so profoundly filled with righteous indignation, feeling so “done with Keith’s porch”, that I am ready to go on a temporary-and-perhaps permanent vacation. The only problem is that my passport is at the immigration office in Guatemala City.

I find it bizarrely humorous that tonight I am so angry that I really could just pick up and go to Mexico (or somewhere else) for a while to calm down. I have never before been this angry at Keith and this ready to abandon my inner work on his porch. But because I have followed the flow, synchronous events have caused me to be without a passport for the next couple of weeks.

It seems that in my darkest hour, running anywhere is not an option.

A Sobering Thought

After going to bed and staring angrily at the ceiling, I get up to write a few more notes.

I remember how Keith had talked about a statement I made during our argument … a statement that part of me would “rather die than shift these beliefs” (beliefs related to my reason for the anger).

“Brenda,” Keith had told me, “This anger is your teacher … preparing you to work with people who are terrified of shifting their conditioned beliefs. People like that will come to you for help, already being in this same state of panic.”

“I don’t want to work with people like that.” I had expressed my terror to Keith. “I can work with you because I can somewhat hear what you are trying to tell me … but I cannot work with someone like me right now if they are not willing to listen.”

“Then you will have to be OK with watching them get lost,” Keith shares the stark facts.

As Keith mentions that I will have to watch people I love and care about go down the emotional toilet because they have too much fear to face their issues, I know he is actually talking about me too – that he is OK if I bolt and run – that he is OK if I suffer a meltdown and never come back to my spiritual path. The thought is very sobering.

Broken Sleep

I am still up at 11:35 p.m., and I am still pissed. At 12:23 a.m. on Thursday morning, I am again sitting at my computer typing the words, “pissed, pissed, pissed.”

I am not at all sure if I will get any sleep tonight … any at all.

Finally, at 2:30 a.m., still being wide awake, still steeped in my anger, I begin to ponder whether or not I have the will power to even attempt to leave this emotional loop before it runs to full completion. I begin to focus on self-love … on loving myself for being right where I am at … on loving myself no matter what I am doing.

As I do so, I begin to feel something shifting inside. Intuitions take me to a thought of moving from the dark side of the force, gradually returning to the light. Finally, I get about two hours of broken sleep – sleep that is filled with dream metaphors from “Return of the Jedi” and “The Force”.

Hopeless Self-Loathing Surrender

By 4:30 a.m., I am again wide-awake – and remain so for the remainder of the long night. I want to meditate and bring in more self-love, but when I walk in to the bathroom to look in a mirror, the only thing I want to do is to scowl at the face I see and to loudly scream the words “F@ck you!!!”. I am lost in a total state of self-loathing.

“I’m too tired to effing care.” I ponder in self-deprecation. “I don’t feel like another living soul cares at this point … no one understands. Right now I am also projecting ‘F@ck you’ energy all over Keith. I know self-love is the answer, but I don’t effing want self-love … I literally would leave the country right now if my passport were available.”

Several times in my angry restlessness, I get up and walk by the bathroom mirror. Each glance at my face is met by angry snarls, swear words, calling myself a loser … and sobs, sobs, and more sobs.

The intensity of this self-hatred has me scared. I am stuck, and the way I feel right now I am quasi-suicidal. I am not yet thinking about ways to do myself in, but I literally am so low and depressed that right now I have no desire to go on with life. I feel like I have ruined everything … that Keith is now abandoning me … and that I will forever be a failure. I am literally giving up.

A Perfect Setup

At 9:30 a.m., still struggling, I walk out toward the edge of town, hoping to find Keith at home. I am exhausted and non-functional, wondering if a session with Keith might help versus the idea that maybe I just need to observe myself and let this crazy agonizing loop play itself out to conclusion.

“C’mon in,” Keith greets me with a smile, quickly dropping everything to spend the next two hours helping me.

“Your Higher Self set all of this up to take you to this next state of childhood experience.” Keith guides me after I share my long depressing journey.

“You reached a state of just giving up,” Keith continues, “of having no more hope.”

“Yeah,” I respond with new hope and recognition, “that makes a great deal of sense. It makes no sense to me as an adult, but I have reached a regressed state where I do not believe in anything or anyone … wanting to just fade away … knowing I will never be an author … that I will end up penniless … without family or friends … with no place to live or call home … to just die and disappear.”

“This is exactly what you finally ended up experiencing as a child,” Keith guides me. “Go into that emotion and feel it … connect with that child.”

Swirling Energy

As I meditatively connect with my little inner child, I begin to sob intensely.

“There is a lot of sadness in here.” I mumble through my gut-wrenching sobs.

“And there is a huge amount of buried rage underneath that sadness.” I share strong intuitive feelings a few minutes later.

“Release that rage.” Keith encourages me.

“I’m trying,” I express my confusion. “But it is not coming to the surface and now I cannot feel it anymore.”

“Then you are not ready for that today.” Keith gently reassures me.

“My forehead is swimming in severe confusion.” I express new feelings. “It feels so distracting that I cannot remember hardly anything. It feels like swirling energy in my third eye – as if my third eye is stuck in the mud.”

“Now your inner knowing is starting to teach you.” Keith guides me.

I have no idea where that “stuck in the mud” metaphor came from … but my forehead feels as if it is clogged with mud, and the intense swirling is trying to stir things up a little.

No Other Choice

Keith congratulates me on my unfolding intuitive ‘knowing’, teaching me that the densities I am working with can only be released after I achieve this ‘knowing’ as to why I designed my life to put those densities/lessons there in the first place.

For a while, we talk at a rational-mind level about how my third-eye is my place of divine knowing and understanding.

“You shut it down at a young age because it got you into trouble.” Keith reassures me. “Your parents did not do it to you … you did it yourself to get out of trouble.”

As we talk, my entire third-eye region feel increasingly congested, as if I am developing a severe sinus infection in my third-eye – as if thick plugs of mucus are blocking the flow of my energy.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you were connected to this knowing as a child. The emotions of ‘giving-up’ that you are experiencing now as an adult are what happened to you when you had to shut this magic down. You had no other choice.”

“Yeah,” I respond, “if anyone had tried to explain to my parents what was happening to me, they never would have understood or accepted it.”

A Little Light

“Go in and ask your Higher Self to help you with this energy,” Keith guides me. “Ask for help to bring in the light, or to do whatever you are ready for.”

As I sink into meditation, I return to what I was doing on Tuesday, envisioning myself reaching my right hand into that Divine room filled with my circle of Higher-Dimensional friends. As I begin to feel tiny glimpses and hints of Divine Love, I freeze into a state of panic and mild whimpers.

“Keith,” I begin sharing, “I do not necessarily remember, but this type of crying feels eerily familiar … I remember it … it is what I did when my mother was trying to stop me from crying … it was a state of frightened panic and whimpers that simply would not stop.”

“If there is too much fear to go there today,” Keith reminds me, “then we can come back and do the rest on another day.”

“Ask the light to help you release this fear.” Keith guides me.

I meditate for a while, feeling a few drops of light, then feeling more whimpering as the fears again swell. I repeat this pattern a few times, but finally, I cannot proceed. The fears are simply too intense.

Rational Understandings

Keith interrupts my meditation to engage me in a little rational-mind talk that helps me stabilize. As we talk, I feel very clearly that this entire experience has been a profound and beautiful setup – a role play that served me deeply, even though Keith was not aware at the time that he was playing a role for me.

As a child, when I attempted to express my truth to my parents, they rejected me with frustration. Then, when I just gave up and cried, they slammed me with more frustrated rejection and disapproval. I got into trouble no matter how I attempted to express my confusing feelings. Finally, I just gave up completely.

Drug By The Nose

As I continue my meditation into the swirling energies of my congested third-eye, I feel as if I am going nowhere fast. I continue to feel a great deal of energy moving around, but cannot make sense out of it. I continue to feel blocked, stuck in the swirling mud of this confusion.

“Is this moving energy normal?” I ask Keith. “I am so confused that I do not even know what an open third-eye chakra feels like. How can I know what I am looking for?”

“It is not open, Brenda.” Keith reassures me as he guides me to meditate more.

Soon, I begin to observe as the energy moves around from place to place. First, the energy in my third-eye relaxes and I feel a strong buildup of energy that forms at the bridge of my nose. Soon the energy leaves my nose and returns to the lower forehead. This movement repeats back and forth several times, with the pressure finally resting in my nose.

“It feels like the bridge of my nose is being squeezed or pinched.” I share intuitions that flow through me.

“What metaphor does that remind you of?” Keith asks.

“Of being drug around by my nose,” I blurt out a minute later. “But I do not remember that happening to me.”

“Whether it happened physically, or just energetically,” Keith confirms my metaphor and reassures me, “that IS what happened to you.”

A Stuck Nose Energy

Eventually the energy moves down into the lower portion of my nose, near the nostrils.

“Good,” Keith guides me, “let it flow out of your nose … all of the confusion and swirling wants to release.”

I meditate for over ten minutes, attempting various types of visualizations, but nothing moves.

“Brenda,” Keith soon guides me, “imagine a waterfall of liquid light flowing through your third-eye and out of your nose.”

Again, I do this for another ten minutes, and nothing moves.

“I’m just too stuck,” I finally explain my feeling of failure.

“Then the energy is not ready to move yet,” Keith explains. “It will happen when you are ready … when you have learned everything you need to learn. That feeling of being stuck is exactly where you were as a child … shut down and unable to connect.”

Energized And Reborn

Slipping back into rational-mind discussion, I explain to Keith how, throughout my life, I have had difficulty learning by listening to lectures or simply reading a book.

“The most effective learning for me was hands-on doing.” I share. “But if someone did not give me detailed instructions, I would go into a panic of confusion and fear … like I did when thinking about getting my visa renewed in Guatemala City on Monday.”

“Is this panic, confusion, and needing of recipes and instructions related to my confusion from childhood? I ask Keith for any guidance he might bring in from my guides.

“Yes,” Keith responds, “that is part of the pattern … but I’m getting that for you the confusion began as a way to shutdown your third-eye … and as a way to move emotional densities through using confusion as a way of expressing that emotion.”

After two hours with Keith, I feel energized and reborn with new hope. After treating Bobby and Sharon to a burger and fries, we all take a much needed nap.

Keith’s response makes a great deal of sense, but it is not until writing and integrating six weeks later that I begin to recognize that frequent emotional confusion is a major clue to further opening my third-eye chakra.

Heartfelt Gratitude

These last twenty-four hours have been among the most angry and rebellion-filled hours of my emotional journey on Keith’s porch – but as usual, they have resulted in an eventual unfolding of beautiful insights relating to childhood emotional issues.

It never ceases to amaze me how synchronous events continue to coordinate a series of days into a beautiful cohesive journey. Not only did my trip with Keith to Guatemala City give me much needed confidence in going to the city and in working with the immigration office and bus system – but that trip was crucial in keeping me from being unable to run away when my tendency to do so was stronger than it has ever been. Had I had my passport in hand I very well might have opted to hop onto a tourist shuttle on Thursday morning rather than confronting my issues and returning to talk with Keith.

And the inner work that entered my awareness on Tuesday, as if out of nowhere, was also a key player. It was that experience that helped me to deeply understand how much I (as a child) hated controlling and manipulative forms of conditional love – how even when that love has a basis in true genuine foundations, that if it is used to induce shame or control (as Keith role played for me), it stirs intense inner childhood rage.

Finally, the ceremony on Wednesday took me deep into the vulnerability of absolutely knowing that, as a child, I knew that connecting to Divine Love was equivalent to absolute and utter abandonment by those I love.

Those synchronous events were precisely timed to bring me to a state where a series of loving and innocent circumstances after the ceremony on Wednesday (also beautifully scripted) took me deep into getting lost in that agonizing loop of childhood hopelessness and abandonment – taking me frightfully close to angrily giving up my work with Keith – it was a very close call.

But none of it would have happened without the patient and compassionate assistance of a dear friend and teacher.

Thank you Keith … and have I apologized yet for how profoundly I was projecting onto you? I am so grateful that you have enough inner knowing and connectedness to stand by my side even when I find myself deeply immersed in the emotions of being a crazy lost and abandoned child.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Note: this is conclusion of a two-part story. If you have not yet read “Part 1,” you may want to read it first …

At 4:30 a.m. on Thursday morning, I awaken with a start, as one emotional story after another flows through my head. This raging river of regressed childhood emotions continues to overwhelm me, further causing me to wish I could isolate and withdraw in rebellion.

Briefly surrendering to my inability to sleep, wanting to record insights that are passing through my mind, I get up and write a short paragraph.

“Whenever I get into these childhood shut-down emotions, especially now, they take me to a place of anger, powerlessness, and hopeless separation. When I buy into them, identifying with them (which I am still doing), I lose my connection to God and the Divine. This is deep in my God/separation drama. When I lose my connection (as I have done right now), I do not reach out to God for help, because I am in so much separation and pain that I want to say ‘F@ck you God’. It seems that I am stuck here until I break this cycle.”

Lost In ‘The Force’

Finally, after getting a little more sleep, I get back out of bed around 8:00 a.m. and begin to meditate … and meditate … and meditate. Still feeling rebellions, struggling to feel even the tiniest of connections to Higher Energy, I simply observe the raging river rapids of crazy non-stop emotions and stories.

Over four hours later, when meditative rebellion sets in, I give up in frustration. I have no desire to do anything except hide – and I do so for the rest of the day while watching the first three episodes of the Star Wars saga (episodes 1, 2, and 3).

Finally, at around 9:00 p.m., I crawl back in bed. I made it through the day. I have escaped a little, but I have NOT gone crazy. In fact, it is clear to me now, that losing myself in the magical “Force” of the movies has been deeply therapeutic.

Do Or Do Not

Friday morning while still continuing my state of emotional rebellion – of checking out from the physical world – I watch episodes 4 and 5 of the Star Wars series – with episode IV, “A New hope”, being the first movie released originally in 1977. In episode V, “The Empire Strikes Back”, as Luke is being trained by Yoda, Luke is deeply frustrated when his ship sinks into the marsh … and when he fails in trying to use “The Force” to lift it back to dry ground. In this sequence, Yoda gives Luke a series of beautiful teachings about “The Force”. Following is a tiny snippet of this scene that takes place just over half way through the movie.

“Oh no … we’ll never get it out now,” Luke complains, referring to his ship that is now covered with murky water.

“So certain are you.” Yoda responds. “Always with you it cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say?”

“Master, moving stones around is one thing,” Luke responds in deep frustration. “This is totally different.”

“No … no different … only different in your mind.” Yoga responds. “You must unlearn what you have learned.”

“Alright, I’ll give it a try.” Luke turns to face the marsh.

“No … try not … do … or do not … there is no try.” Yoda guides Luke.

Soon, Luke begins to lift his ship, partially succeeding, but then giving up in failure.

“I can’t … it’s too big.” Luke speaks in out-of-breath exhaustion.

“Size matters not.” Yoda responds. “Look at me … judge me by my size do you? … Hmm? … and where you should not … for my ally is the force, and a powerful ally it is … life creates it … makes it grow … its energy surrounds us … and binds us … luminous beings are we, not this crude matter … you must feel the force around you … you, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere, yes, even between the land and the ship.”

“You want the impossible.” Luke expresses his frustration and walks away.

A minute later, Yoda calmly and confidently closes his eyes, reaches out his arm, and uses “The Force” to lift the huge ship out of the marsh and onto dry land.”

“I don’t … I don’t believe it.” Luke expresses with surprised amazement.

“That is why you failed”. Yoda responds with a sigh.

Perfect Delivery

“Wow,” I ponder to myself while watching this scene, “this is so exactly where I am at. I know this magic exists … and I know it is inside of me … yet my own doubts and lack of firm belief continually cause me to repeatedly succeed at failure.”

I love how even when I am just watching movies out of sheer withdrawal and emotional rebellion, that the ideal message – exactly what I need to hear – is delivered to me at a perfect time.

As I prepare for an afternoon chocolate ceremony, I realize that I am still believing that my emotions are me … buying into the lie that ‘what I feel’ is ‘who I am’. I am now in the process of learning not to identify with my emotions … to observe those emotions without being or becoming them.

Bizarre Beginnings

As I sit on Keith’s magical porch, waiting for the afternoon ceremony to begin, I am shocked, and somewhat amused at what I observe. It is a bizarre beginning by any standards.

A woman asks Paul to walk with her down into the garden. A minute later, Paul yells out in anger and defensiveness.

“You’re so resistant!” The woman calmly barks back at Paul. “I was just trying to give you honest feedback.”

Again, Paul lashes out in anger. I simply sit in my chair and smile at the woman, who then smiles a frustrated smile back at me. I know exactly what she is feeling – only I no longer attempt to give such feedback directly to Paul.

As the ceremony finally begins, a woman who is on the porch for the first time is quite pushy and defiant, constantly interrupting Keith, challenging him on everything he says, and then not giving him an opportunity to respond fully before she interrupts again. She seems to be insisting on a group discussion rather than allowing Keith to talk while she listens.

Repeatedly, she asks “prove it” types of questions, creating havoc and chaos without allowing a moment’s peace for any of us. Then, when Keith attempts to answer, she does not listen, instead turning to her neighbors and loudly stirring up more validation for her cause.

To make matters even more interesting, there are four or five men present, who are also here for the first time. Several of these men feel this woman’s energy and join in, siding with her, insisting that her behavior is valid … that inquiring minds want to know … that her doubts need to be listened to and answered. Even Paul jumps into the mix, defending the woman, and insisting that Keith should be more responsive to her.

A Rebellious Stage Play

I watch this unfolding scene with observant surprise and wonder.

“This is my creation.” I ponder to myself. “It is my stage play, my Muppet Show, showing me my own rebellion at authority.”

After a chaotic hour in which interruptions prevent Keith from fully delivering his normal introductory discussions, we finally begin the “Glow Meditation.” As Keith guides the group, this same woman constantly continues to interrupt, making loud noises, and engaging her neighbors in disruptive conversation. Keith makes several loving-but-pointed comments aimed in her direction … talking about how some people are so afraid of going into their own issues that they use distraction as a defense, etc…

Finally, Keith feels guided to ask this woman to leave. Paul again comes to her defense, later lashing out at Keith with a burst of anger at how Keith did not do enough to work with her.

Keith lovingly explains to the group that three types of people are welcome on his porch … those who just want to observe … those who want to do their own work … and those who want to hold space for others if their own work does not surface.

“But there is no room for today’s distractions, where one person’s behavior interferes with the ability of others to do their own work.” Keith explains his action to the group.

As the next half hour unfolds, several others on the porch end up leaving as well. Strong intuitions tell me that this rebellion at authority is all part of my personally orchestrated stage play.

Paradoxical Pondering

“This is bizarre,” I ponder with amazement, “it is perfect to show me another part of myself … that being my judgment toward those who rebel at authority.”

I realize that, as a child, it was engrained into me that rules must be followed. I never had any tolerance, none whatsoever, toward those who refused to follow the rules. In fact, I judged such people quite harshly in my tiny mind. It seems that I was so angry at having to follow those horrible rules myself, that I believed everyone else should have to follow them too – no matter how little sense the rules made.

“It is quite the paradox,” I ponder, “that here I am trying to undo all of that childhood conditioning – trying to undo and break all of those conditioned rules – yet I still feel such judgment toward anyone who defies authority.”

A Run Of Rebellion

“How are you doing today?” Keith quickly turns to me after the glow meditation ends.

“I am still in that same process I was in when I left on Wednesday,” I respond pensively. “I remain stuck in regressed emotions, trying to not identify with them, and still not feeling connected to Higher Energies. Today, I am feeling emotions of rebellion flowing through me … rebellion at rebellious people.”

After discussing my state for a few minutes, Keith reassures me that I am in a perfect place – that I should just continue to sit with those emotions and trust my process – that he has nothing more to add.

I observe with love and gratitude as I watch Keith work with a young woman across the porch, spending a full focused thirty minutes with her – telling her that her process is so important that he was strongly guided to pull in the reins to prevent others from interfering.

Soon, as one man leaves because he is too afraid to address the inner metaphors that are surfacing in his body, Keith gently tries to explain what is happening, and reassures the man that if he stays, that he can find some answers. Again, conflict erupts as a couple of first-time men on the porch rebel and accuse Keith of pushing. I just smile, because I can see the love from which Keith is operating, and I – the queen of sensitivity to pushing energy – see absolutely nothing but pure guided ‘following’ on Keith’s part.

“Why am I creating so much conflict and rebellion at authority in my stage play today?” I again sink into deep pondering.

Conflict Craziness

By the time Keith moves on to work with the next few people, I now clearly realize that my deeper issue for today, one that is wildly churning in my abdomen, is my lifelong terror of conflict and passive-aggressive anger.

When I briefly interrupt Keith to share my unfolding insights, he clarifies that this is also triggering how I picked up the energy of my parents when I tried to be my magical self.

“When you tried to speak your truth,” Keith guides me, “not only did you pick up on the conflict that was generated in physical responses, but you empathically picked up on their energetic judgment.”

“Wow,” I share new insights with Keith, “conflict was totally terrifying to me as a child. I learned that speaking my truth was a sure way to be slammed by the conflict … that I would surely LOSE if I tried. The cayenne pepper on my tongue was not just for mouthing off with inappropriate words … it was for futilely attempting to defend myself during my shut-down process.”

Experiential Education

As Keith does beautiful work with another woman on the porch, I observe from afar, deeply riding her emotional wave. Soon, I move in closer to hold space, further connecting to her childhood journey.

I sink deep into tears surrounding the childhood agony at facing helpless conflict with the adults around me – into the agony of not being allowed to speak my truth – of being painfully punished for trying to defend myself in the only way I knew how.

As my friend sinks deeper into her own journey, I am profoundly experiencing the emotional energies that caused my terror of conflict. I feel myself as a tiny child, a magical being who is not being understood, not being validated for what I knew, judged for being different and rebellious, judged for crying all the time when I empathically took in the pain of others … and I absolutely learned at a very tiny age that any type of confrontation was sure to create agony for me.

A Bubbly Bounce

After Keith guides my friend to bring in light and self-love, he turns and talks briefly to me, sharing that the whole porch is now riding her wave.

“Do what she is doing,” Keith guides me. “She is bringing in self-love.”

As I immediately focus on doing the same, I begin to feel glimmers of joyful love for that child that was me. I almost want to giggle at that tiny fourteen-month-old baby whose image is implanted in my mind. I can feel a bubbly bounce in my baby … I can feel myself really shifting in subtle ways.

Eventually, still in this beautiful energy of self-love, I return to my seat and glow.

A Perfect Review

As another friend begins to do some deep emotional work, Keith surprises me by giving him the same speech that he gave me earlier in the week, during the yoga retreat. Keith explains to my friend how he too is regressing into the experience of deep childhood emotions – explaining how he needs to allow himself to feel them without identifying with or attaching to them as his now.

I am blown away, because when Keith first explained this to me a few days ago, it was all so new to me. I had never heard him tell anyone any of this information. I am so grateful for the personally manifested review – a beautiful opportunity for me to relive and further understand the process through which I myself am passing.

Finding The Joy

As the ceremony fades, I mention that Bobby and Sharon are begging me for a burger and fries. When a friend asks if he can join me, Keith jumps in and indicates that he would love to join us as well.

The three of us engage in delightful inner work conversation for two hours. It is the perfect opportunity to clarify and further understand my process – to tie several loose ends together.

“You cannot take the wrong bus.” Keith reminds me when I beg for clarity about why I continue to slog through emotional things in the hard way. “It is all part of your process.”

“How do I get on the easy bus … the one with joy?” I beg for answers.

“But joy seems like a scam,” I interrupt before Keith answers. “With where I am right now, it feels like joy is just throwing a blanket of light over my pain, and pretending it is not there.”

“Joy means still feeling the emotional pain, but not identifying with it, not being attached to it.” Keith shares a beautiful insight.

“Keith,” I beg for clarity, “last Tuesday morning, when you told me that you could feel my emotion so strongly that it was making you cry … and you had tears in your eyes even before I did … do you feel such deep emotion so personally all of the time?”

“Much of the time I do,” Keith acknowledges nonchalantly. “Lately, I have felt a ton of emotion on the porch, but I know it is not mine … I do not attach to it as my own … I do not identify with it … and I remain in my joy.”

“Wow, what a concept,” I ponder. “And doing all of my own painful childhood regression is preparing me to do the same … not only with assisting others, but with my own past lives and parallel lives in other dimensions.”

An Inner Light

Saturday evening, after spending the day writing, the electricity flickers on and off several times over a five-minute period. Finally, the light goes off one last time, and remains off – leaving me giggling in the middle of editing my blog titled “Lost And Bewildered”.

An hour later, as pitch-blackness continues to consume the outdoors, I cozily enjoy peaceful meditation in my living room while several candles providing glimmering light all around me.

I am suddenly shocked to see something I have never seen inside of my apartment – something I rarely even see outside my apartment. A little lightning bug is turning his inner light on and off as he crawls on my wall just inches away from my right shoulder. Each time I blow a tiny breeze of air in his direction, the little bug again lights up.

“What a beautiful metaphor.” I ponder with delight. “For more than a year now, I have been exploring a magical theme park with no power, a blown fuse, and many other profound emotional metaphors of disconnected powerlessness. Now, here I am, surrounded by physical pitch-black powerlessness, and a little bug with glowing inner light stops by to visit.”

It seems so obvious to me … I am being shown in a very profound and clear way that my true source of power and light is not external, but is instead a beautiful and loving inner glow, an inner connection to source that needs to be developed and nurtured.

Ice Cream Giggles

Just recently, last night in fact, I bought twelve ice cream sandwiches – little motivating treats that my inner children love to gobble down after a long day of writing or inner work. Knowing how electricity works (or does not work) in San Marcos, I realize that the power may be off for so long that my freezer might completely thaw. Seconds later, I begin gobbling down three of those luxurious frozen treats.

Just after 8:00 p.m. I hear sounds on my steps as Keith’s voice calls out. He has stopped by to tell me about a fascinating light show he just observed – of how he was with friends down by the lake and saw huge fiery orange flashes across the lake near where a power substation is – of how with each flash the power in all surrounding villages would go dark. Then, as the lights came back on, more huge balls of flame would flare out, until finally, after several repeats of this flickering scenario, everything went black.

“I just stopped by to tell you,” Keith talks with excitement, “that based on what I observed, we could be without power for quite some time, perhaps for three or four days. If you do not have any, you might want to run over to a store and buy a bunch of candles just in case.”

“Then I better eat more of my ice cream sandwiches.” I giggle to Keith. “Would you like to help me?”

For the next half hour, before Keith decides it is time to move on to his next stop, I pick his brain regarding my process while we combine efforts to gobble down another seven of my precious ice cream treats.

I love how even an extended power outage can turn into inner-light metaphors and fun giggles.

A Subconscious Quest

Early Sunday morning, February 26, 2012, my apartment is eerily black as I use a flashlight to check the time. Noting that I still have time for a few more hours of sleep, I close my eyes and go through the motions. But by the time the sun’s faint morning glow is peaking across the distant horizon, I am up, cross-legged on my daybed, meditating with a passionate purpose.

I have recently realized that deeply rooted inner beliefs and self-doubt continue to stifle and muffle my ability to trust and follow my heart – and I plan to go deep into my subconscious beliefs to find out why. I just recently wrote, on February 7, about a similar process in a blog appropriately titled “A Subconscious Book Of Beliefs”. If you want to further understand the mechanics of this process, please read that blog.

After meditatively journeying down all manner of staircases, elevators, ladders, and fireman’s poles, I then meander through a maze of hallways until intuition tells me I am at my destination. Not being a particularly visual meditator, I use my intuitions and inner knowing to read the metaphorical book that part of me somehow knows is already open on a pedestal in front of me.

Intuitively, I begin to read the energetic content of the pages of that book – with each paragraph laying out the rules as to why I must not trust and follow my heart. Most all of these beliefs stem from deeply engrained religious teachings.

Restrictive Heart Rules

“Your heart is not to be trusted,” the first belief flows intuitively through my knowing. “It cannot help you earn a living or survive in this world. Your heart is beautiful, but it is filled with fanciful thoughts that will lead you astray from the Kingdom of Heaven. It will distract you, confuse you, deceive you, and cause great heartache in your life.”

“Use your heart in your future marriage,” the second rule flows, “but do not let it deceive or distract you in other ways. Instead, trust the scriptures, church leaders, and the Holy Ghost to guide you.”

“If inner voices come and they do not agree with the counsel of the church,” the third rule firmly dictates, “then ignore them. They are Satan trying to deceive you. Inner voices cannot be fully trusted. They must be compared to gospel teachings. True inner guidance will never lead you away from the church.”

“The heart is sentimental,” another rule reveals itself, “subject to great folly and distortion. Do not follow it to your destruction. Following your heart is the pathway to destruction. You must work and be responsible, provide for your family, and keep the commandments. There is no room for the heart in all this.”

“The heart is play,” rule five further spoils the fun. “You must work, work, work. You must grow up and live in an adult world of responsibility.”

“Your heart only gets you in trouble.” Number six takes me into how I have the concept of ‘love’ hooked with pain and rejection. “No one honors your heart. You must suppress it in order to be loved by others, to not be rejected, to not be in pain. Following your heart will result in deep rejection and pain.”

“Your heart is defective.” Number seven gets deeply personal. “Trust other people’s hearts more than your own. Your heart is evil. It wants you to do things that are sinful.”

Raging River Of Emotion

“I hate my heart because it gets me in trouble.” I ponder with deep gushing emotion.

At this point in the meditation, I realize I have left the book of beliefs and am now deeply regressed into a bottomless pit of childhood emotion – feeling the emotions of myself as a little child – a little child who was methodically taught that his pure and genuine heart-based feelings were invalid and troublesome.

“I am bad because my heart doesn’t fit in.” Another emotional wave overwhelms me.

For at least fifteen minutes, I allow myself to slip into a fit of profuse sobbing, coughing and dry heaving. This meditation has touched on the taproot of heart-based pain – at the pain-pressurized point of having my own heart knowing invalided and punished.

This emotion is so powerful that I know it is a real substance – one that I have tapped into – one that is causing real physical reactions. I know this emotion is not me in the present, and I do not identify with it in any way. It does not define me, but it runs through me in an agonizingly physical way.

I watch, I feel, I cry, but I do not identify. Once I sense that I am at the bottom of this pain, I invite the light to assist and show me what it would to with these emotions. Soon, the flow subsides and I am stable enough to resume my meditation.

Page Removal

For the next half hour, I meditate through the process of destroying these pages from my subconscious book of beliefs – ripping the pages out of the book and uniquely obliterating them three separate times.

In the first meditation, I rip out what feels like three pages of the book, visualize myself cutting them into tiny pieces, and then very carefully mixing them up with a small block of C4 explosive clay. I place this explosive on the airtight box (from previous inner work – a box where distorted Gestapo-like masculine energy ruled over my dysfunction). Running around a metaphorical corner, I push an old-fashioned detonator plunger and “kabooey” – that airtight box explodes to smithereens, along with all of these heart-limiting beliefs.

Next, I rip the pages for a second time and place them on a funeral raft piled high with carefully stacked firewood – like you might see in the funeral scene of a medieval movie. After the raft is pushed out into a lake, I launch a flaming arrow from a bow, arching the flaming ball out over the lake. As it lands on the floating raft, the oil-soaked wood explodes in a ball of whooshing flames, cremating the raft, the pages, and everything else on the raft.

Finally, I rip the pages out one last time, slice them up into thin confetti using a razorblade, and then throw them into the air above an Olympic-sized outdoor swimming pool filled with gasoline. From a distance, I shoot a flaming arrow into the pool, which explodes into a hot fire that burns and burns until the pool is finally empty. Those beliefs are obliterated.

Need To Know Basis

As I finish my profound and deeply emotional meditation, I feel guided to check the light on my nightstand. Low and behold, it glows with brightness. It is 10:00 a.m. when I check the two remaining ice cream sandwiches in my freezer. As suspected, they are total mush.

After quickly finishing the editing and posting of my latest blog, I scurry over to Keith’s porch for yet-another round of chocolate journeying.

My heart feels connected and peaceful as I hold loving space through most of the ceremony. I watch with unattached interest as little emotional densities move around in my abdomen, but do not identify with them, simply allowing them to flow and release.

As Keith works with a woman next to me, I suddenly feel deep pains in my abdomen. Intuitively, I know these pains are not my own, but turn to Keith for confirmation.

“Yup, they are hers.” Keith smiles at me, giving me the confidence to keep doing what I am doing.

As my upper chakras remain lovingly connected, I observe and hold space for the porch for several hours, watching small pains come and go in my abdomen. I do not know if the pains I feel are mine or if they come from others, and at least for now, I realize I do not need to know. I just allow.

Perfect Guidance

Finally, Keith turns to talk to me. I quickly fill him in with descriptions of what I have been doing and feeling.

“Can you give me some feedback?” I ask.

As Keith begins to respond, giving me supportive feedback, we are rudely interrupted.

“Brenda,” Paul pompously and smugly scolds me. “You already know what you are feeling! Quit pretending that you don’t.”

I would love to smack Paul across the head, but I restrain myself, ignore his rude behavior, and then watch with surprise as Keith stands up to go work with someone else. Keith tells me later that he did not even realize that he had abandoned me at that moment … and says he was just doing what he always does, following guidance to move on. As I look back, I can see how his guidance was perfect.

Meditative Turnaround

As I ponder how I was just deeply invalidated and disempowered, I begin to experience churning and angry emotions in my solar plexus.

“This is not about Paul,” I remind myself over and over. “This is not about what it is about. And nothing changes until I do.”

“Then what is this about?” I ask myself with genuine desire.

Soon, I am meditatively exploring childhood invalidation done to me by what seemed like pompous ego-based adults who absolutely knew what was wrong with me, told me what was wrong, and told me what I needed to do to fix it – all without having a clue as to what was really going on inside of me.

“This is my God/separation drama.” I ponder as I take it deeper. “Keith represents God and Paul represents those who used ego to act in God’s name. Paul is showing me how the adults in my life lovingly slammed me with pompous fixing energy that made me feel stupid, invalidated, and disempowered – all because they did not understand me.”

A while later, when Paul comes over to work on a woman seated next to me, I quietly speak my truth.

“Paul, please stop interrupting Keith when he is working with me.” I speak sternly. “That is out of line when I am working with him.”

Saying nothing more, I return to allowing these painful childhood emotions to flow through me. The emotions of my little child are intense – ranging through anger, sadness, and deep feelings of invalidation and victimization. Through it all, I lovingly remain unattached to these emotions, not identifying with them as my present-day now, and mostly maintaining a peaceful loving space in my heart as the observer watching it all.

Withdrawal and Observation

As Keith prepares to guide the group in an empath training, one man, who is deeply stuck in his rational mind, begins to panic and create agitated conflict and confrontation over his inability to understand the non-logical guidance that Keith is sharing with the group.

Again, this intense quasi-conflict triggers my core issue-of-the-day quite deeply – taking me right back into the heart of my terror at confrontational situations. I observe the situation as it is lovingly resolved by others, but again sink deeper into childhood regression over the panic that any situation of conflict has always triggered in my soul.

During the actual empath training, however, I am so triggered and into my own space-holding-for-myself process, that I completely check out and do not participate in any of it. As the training unfolds for much of the next hour, I stew in contemplative observation mode, holding loving space while watching my child repetitively cycle between anger, sadness, victimization, and powerlessness. Throughout this process, my heart remains strong and unattached to the painful drama while my abdomen twitches wildly and angrily, all over the place.

Triggered Past, Tangled Projections

“Anyone else have anything they want to work on?” Keith asks when the training is over.

“Keith,” I quietly respond, “I would love some help.”

“What’s up?” Keith glows back at me.

I briefly explain the crazy emotional saga of my day – of how I am dealing with childhood disempowerment that has been triggered by events on the porch.

“I am doing my best to separate my projections,” I beg Keith for guidance,” and to deal directly with the childhood cause of these emotions. But I am having a hard time doing that.”

“I am deeply triggered by adults in my life who profess to be healers, yet who would come from a place of ego while disempowering others,” I share bluntly with Keith. “Then, without understanding what is going on in someone’s process, they throw fixing statements at them in a condescending way.”

Keith smiles at me as I share these words. Seconds later, I make direct eye contact with Paul. As I observe the look on Paul’s face, there is no doubt that he knows exactly what I am referring to.

Crazy Creations

“What do I do?” I ask Keith for advice. “Can you help me work with these emotions?”

“The first thing to do, Brenda, is to quit trying.” Keith responds with compassion.

Almost immediately, I quit trying to suppress my emotions, to keep my feelings at bay. As I do so, I sink into deep gut-wrenching, jaw-shaking sobs. Keith quickly asks all of the empaths in the group to support me and assist in this emotional release. This emotion runs very deep.

Like clockwork, I am not the least bit surprised by my “create my own reality” creation when Paul jumps up and begins to inflict multiple distractions, folding blankets, putting away cushions, talking out loud, etc… Within a few minutes, just one woman remains focused on supporting me. She immediately takes in a bunch of my emotion and begins to store it inside of herself.

Keith quickly turns to work with her while I continue my own emotional release.

“You need to be helping Brenda,” This woman cries as she lovingly scolds Keith.

“No, I need to be here, helping you.” Keith reassures her.

I could not agree more. I am doing just fine on my own, and I would not be able to release any more emotion if I thought she were taking it into her. I am grateful that Keith is assisting her.

Candid Conversation

“I need a few minutes alone with you.” I share with Keith when he finally checks in with me.

“Fine,” Keith responds, “I’ll walk home with you later.”

The woman who was helping soon gives me huge hugs, which causes me to cry some more. She shares amazing feedback about how strongly she perceives my heart energy, and of how I remind her of her mother’s powerful loving energy. She makes my heart metaphorically melt with love.

Finally, Keith begins walking into town with me. I am craving this opportunity for candid conversation.

First, I engage in a brief and honest conversation regarding my ongoing triggers with Paul. I am filled with sanity and gratitude as Keith validates my perceptions while reminding me that Paul is in his own unique process, that he (Keith) is following guidance, and that I can trust that all I need to do is continue to work on my own inner triggers.

“Nothing changes until I do.” I repeat to myself out loud … wondering how strongly I really believe this statement.

Non-Validating Validation

“How do I tell if I am actually moving density?” I ask Keith to teach me. “And how do I tell if it is my own or if it belongs to someone else?”

“Brenda,” Keith patiently responds, “you will only get that knowing when you quit trying to figure it out with your head. As long as you try to figure it out, the knowing will not be there.”

I scratch my head at how Keith can share such clear wisdom in ways that make my mind want to scream.

“I had that knowing for most of the ceremony,” I respond, “and I stayed mostly out of my head. I just feel like I want some validation for rational mind – validation that will help me continue to trust that I am not scamming myself.”

Without actually validating me, Keith does agree that everything I have told him about what I believe I was doing today makes sense … that there is no reason to dispute my intuitions. Again, I love how Keith can validate me without actually validating me.

But believe it or not, I actually love this short conversation. It leaves me realizing that my head really cannot validate any of this … and I need to quit trying to validate it at that level. Thinking I need outside validation is a major part of my childhood loop – one that I worked on with my subconscious book of beliefs just this morning – one that stems to the core of my shutdown – one in which I was taught to not trust my own inner knowing … the inner knowing of my heart.

The Proverbial Emotional Swirling

Late Sunday evening, as I check emails before bed, I find another beautiful quote from the “Oneness” book channeled by Rasha. As do most of the quotes from that amazing book, this one speaks to me deeply, being exactly what I need to hear right now.

“Be conscious of what you are feeling and how you are responding in the dramas of your daily life. Be honest with yourself in your acknowledgment of your emotional responses. And be not so hasty in rejecting, within your own repertoire of sensibilities, the poignant feelings that you might have yourself believe are “beneath you”. Your emotional response mechanism is very real. The key to all you would accomplish in this lifetime hinges upon your willingness to embrace all that you are, for the chance that you may come to experience – in Oneness – all that you truly are.”

I love how this quote validates that the emotional feelings that continue to surface in my process are not beneath me … that these emotional response mechanisms with which I am dealing are very real.

It often feels quite discouraging to return to such emotions over and over again. But each time I give myself painful permission to do so, I clearly recognize that this time is much deeper – that the healing and understanding that are coming to me are indeed worth all of the humiliation that comes from repeatedly appearing to spin ever deeper down the emotional toilet that it sometimes feels like.

Feeling The Spray

This last week has been a painful and wildly-emotional river run – a rafting trip down rushing rapids that began at a yoga retreat center as I became overwhelmed and consumed by inexplicable emotions – emotions that Keith lovingly helped me to understand were actually very real emotions experienced during my pre-memory years as a tiny child. The emotions were astoundingly real – so much so that as I felt them, separating from them as my adult-self was initially quite difficult indeed.

Since launching my raft into the raging river on Monday, February 20, I have repeatedly regressed – into one stage after another of agonizing emotions – each of which I experienced and recognized as correlating to various stages during the gradual shutdown of my childhood magic.

Just a week ago, I had no idea that a present-life regression was even possible. Now I have experienced such truth time and time again. What is even more amazing, however, is that I am gradually learning to do it with more grace and less attachment. It seems that as I recognize what is really happening – that these emotions are not really me in the now – that I can actually watch these emotional memories surface, feel them to the core, and let them flow through me and out of me, without attaching to them as being me, without identifying with them as being my present-day now.

It has indeed been a wild river run, rushing down the rapids as unexpected regressions greeted my experience at every bend. But to my delight, the journey no longer feels quite so relentless and raging … in fact it is growing increasingly easier and more fun with each experience.

Once I understand the process, it is somewhat exciting to feel the splashing spray of the upcoming rapids.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

After spending a lazy Monday morning, simply relaxing, I stroll over to Keith’s house at 10:00 a.m. – I am excited to have been given the opportunity to assist Keith in two chocolate ceremonies, both of which will take place at a small yoga retreat center across the lake. One will be this afternoon, February 20, after which I will camp in a small tent near the cool water’s edge of Lake Atitlan. The other will be tomorrow morning.

I look forward to holding space and powerfully assisting in these ceremonies. As usual, the Universe has different plans.

A Steel-Toed Boot

Keith and I arrive at our destination at noon. I am delighted to engage in a round of huge angelic hugs with my friend – the one I have called Angela in previous writing – a beautiful young woman who has again returned to the lake to help teach this retreat.

As I nibble on fruit in the kitchen, waiting for the 2:00 p.m. ceremony to begin, I hold my hand on a very painful solar plexus – one that has been hurting me all morning. I feel as if an extremely hard and painful rock has taken up residence at the center of my abdomen, just below the ribcage.

When the ceremony gets underway, it becomes obvious that a large percentage of this group could benefit from an empath training – one that Keith quickly conducts at an unusually early stage in the ceremony. As the training progresses, my pains worsen. By the end of phase one, my solar plexus aches profusely. By the end of phase two, I feel so pain ridden and shutdown that I disconnect from the group, returning to my yoga mat about ten feet from the others.

I am unable to access any sensation of light, love, or Higher Energies. As I grasp for ways to describe the pain, it feels as if I were metaphorically kicked by a steel-toed boot – both at that nail-in-my-heart spot at the center of my heart chakra, and in the center of my solar plexus.

Miserable Desires

I feel like a recluse loser as I simply observe the remainder of the ceremony, doing so from afar. I hurt too much. The thought of trying to assist or hold space for others seems like an impossible task.

I try to send love to the pains in my body, but the emotions and pains are so strong that it takes every ounce of strength I have simply to sit where I am at – to not run away, dig a very deep hole, climb in, and scream with agony at the top of my lungs.

As the ceremony ends, I note that Keith remains behind to assist one woman who continues to process very deep emotions. I remain detached from the events, quickly locate my tent and set it up on the concrete floor of this outdoor yoga paradise – first lining the ground with layers of yoga mats, then my tent, then more yoga mats, air mattresses, and my sleeping bag. As far as I am concerned, I could crawl in that tent right now, isolate myself, and be quite happy in my misery.

A Full Stomach

When Keith finishes what he is doing, I briefly touch base, apologizing for my emotional state, expressing my deep confusion regarding what I am experiencing.

“Brenda,” Keith surprises me, “I’m getting that you have regressed into the depths of childhood pain … being taken back to feel and experience the actual childhood pain that you went through. Trust the process, allow yourself to feel it, and let the knowing unfold.”

Keith and I are both late for dinner, so there is no time to talk. A minute later, I am glumly picking through what is left of this vegetarian buffet. The salad is dripping with dressing – and I am not especially fond of salad dressing – so I end up grabbing three medium sized boiled potatoes, a stack of warm corn tortillas, and a small bowl of broccoli soup. In my current state of crazy emotional depression, the only thing with which I concern myself is that my stomach is not empty.

Present-Life Regressions

“How are you doing?” One young woman asks after dinner.

“Keith tells me I am regressing to childhood, experiencing the agonizing emotions of how I felt when I was being shut down at a very young age.” I answer politely, still not fully grasping or understanding what I am doing.

As the dining room is being rearranged for a group “Kirtan” gathering, I seriously consider running away, crawling in my tent, and checking out … but something causes me to stay. I feel utterly stupid and detached from events. As the group talks, laughs, sings, chants, and plays instruments together, I simply isolate and breathe, attempting to not burst out into agonizing tears.

An hour later, Keith leads a smaller group in a discussion about past life regressions and related topics. At one point in the discussion, Keith talks about the concept of doing a regression into present-life feelings and emotions – going back in time to see through the eyes and feel the emotions of that part of us – the same as we do when regressing into a past-life experience.

“Are you saying that there really is such a thing as a present-life regression?” I beg for more clarification, speaking for the first time in a couple of hours.

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith confirms confidently. “That is what you are doing right now … feeling your child’s emotions and pains while being in your adult body.”

“Wow,” I ponder to myself, “that puts what I am doing into a whole new perspective and understanding. I had no idea I had hurt this much as a child, but these emotional and physical pains feel very familiar.”

A Call For Love

Keith soon guides this group of around twelve people into a meditation where each journeys individually into a regression – going wherever their own subconscious mind takes them.

As I watch and listen, I do not participate – I am feeling so much nausea and pain that I almost stand up and leave – but again, something causes me to tough it out and remain right where I am … discomfort and all.

Around 9:00 p.m., as Keith continues to guide what turns into a very long session, a few things he says trigger me to go deeper into my own experience.

“If I am feeling the pain of my child at what intuitively feels like one-to-three years old,” I ask myself, “what would I be doing then, if I were actually feeling like I do right now?”

“I would be screaming my head off in pain,” I ponder the obvious answer. “It would not be a temper tantrum, but it would be even more emotional and painful. The pain would be caused and heightened by the fact that I was also inhaling the emotions of everyone around me.”

“I need to provide love for that child.” I suddenly consider a new course of action.

Shocking Emotions

As I meditate and try to imagine myself sending love to this screaming little inner child, I cannot do it. The thought triggers feelings of revulsion. To my shock, I feel deep anger at this child for screaming so much.

I feel hopeless, powerless to help that child. I am frustrated. I hate the screaming, and I do not know how to stop it. I want to help, but the little brat just keeps screaming for no reason. As I try to love, I feel only deep anger, judgment, and exasperated frustration.

“Shut the f@ck up you screaming ninny!” The insane words pop into my head. “If you want to cry, I’ll give you a reason to cry.”

“I hate that child,” I ponder in confusion. “He is a terrible crybaby … STOP CRYING!!!”

These emotions shock me. No matter how hard I try to focus, I cannot love this terrified screaming child. He does not deserve love. He is NOT loveable.

The intensity of the hatred frightens me. I realize that this anger and hatred is something I have been carrying around inside of me – literally despising myself for having been such an out-of-control and emotionally struggling little boy.

Time For Me

“Higher Energies,” I beg in meditation, “please help me in releasing this anger, hatred, and loathing.”

Gradually, as I sit quietly, repeatedly asking Higher Energies to assist me, I begin to feel the strongest portions of this angry emotional charge start to fade. Finally, at around 9:30 p.m. when Keith finishes up with the group, he walks across the room to where I have isolated myself, sits down in front of me, and speaks.

“All righty then,” Keith smiles. “Let’s work with you a little bit.”

Tears stream lightly down my cheeks. I feel so deeply grateful for Keith’s compassion. I had half expected him to be angry with me for how I have gotten so hopelessly lost in my own process, not assisting him in any way.

Soon, however, Keith realizes that it is “light’s out” for the retreat center … and that there are many people trying to sleep in a loft directly above where we are. Seconds later, Keith and I walk down to the “palapa” together – the large outdoor patio area with a circular thatched roof. I shine a light in the darkness while Keith quickly sets up his tent, perhaps ten feet from my own. Finally, when we are all settled in, we continue our little discussion in a very unique way … we talk back and forth between tents.

Cellular Memories

As I rest in my sleeping bag, I cry a lot as Keith explains to me a process that often happens when people change their diet and do a physical detoxification, telling me that as their body cleanses, that people frequently regress, one by one, back through every illness they ever had, right to the beginning.

“It is cellular memories being undone.” Keith explains to me as I whimper while listening from afar.

“Brenda, this is the same thing you are doing,” Keith guides me, “but you are processing cellular memories at an emotional and energetic level instead of a physical level. You are methodically going back and re-experiencing all of your childhood emotions as part of a very beautifully planned process.”

Keith explains that I need to do this – that I set it up this way, so that in the process of re-experiencing, releasing, and healing all of these past experiences, that I could also get the learning that I need in order to be able to eventually help others.

“It is necessary for you to go back in time to re-experience all of these pains.” Keith reassures me.

A Flow Of Memories

“I had no idea that I had hurt this much as a child.” I express my agony to Keith. “But as I feel these pains, all of my inner knowing tells me that this is real and absolutely accurate. I remember the intense crying … crying for no reason … the physical pains in my abdomen … and my mother, in her frustration, trying to help me stop crying.”

“All of my intuitions tell me that this pain was heightened by being an empath, by feeling the emotions of others around me, and believing that their emotions were my own.” I ponder out loud.

As these words flow through my mouth, I recall frequent, actual memories, of crying uncontrollably with my mother sitting beside me on my bed – begging me to stop crying. I cannot match these memories with an actual age, but I know they were very early in my life.

Methodically Moving Memories

“You are methodically and gradually being taken through all of the experiences that you need to remember and release.” Keith repeats to help me understand. “The pain you are feeling is the portion of the release that needs to pass through the conscious mind. You need to feel it in order to release it.”

“The key is to allow,” Keith guides me, “to not identify with the pains and emotions as being in the present day … to not attach to them and to instead simply allow them to flow through you … and to eventually reach a state where you can be blasé about it.”

As Keith shares this guidance, I remember how, during empath trainings Keith often tells people they might feel the pains of others, but that they will be so unattached that they will be able to say, “Ha, I ate worse than that when I was eight years old.”

“What you have been doing is methodically going through reservoirs of suppressed cellular memories,” Keith again clarifies. “They are moving out of you as you feel them. Allow the process. Don’t resist it or judge it.”

Empathically Internalized Emotions

“Brenda,” Keith then surprises me. “The emotions you felt tonight when trying to send love to your child were not your own emotions. You were experiencing the emotions and feelings of your parents … their sense of helplessness and frustration at not being able to get you to stop crying … their feeling like bad parents, not knowing how to help you … and their unexpressed anger and judgment at your screaming for no reason.”

“You picked up those emotions from them empathically,” Keith teaches me, “and you are also re-experiencing their emotions as part of your education.”

“I felt and said some of those same things to my own children when they would be crying, screaming, or throwing tantrums for no reason.” I confess to Keith. “I think I took those emotions in so deeply, believing them to be my own, internalizing my anger at children who cry without reason, that I passed the energy along as my own. I was impatient and frustrated when they cried. I didn’t know what to do and judged myself as a bad parent for feeling that way.”

Keith then confirms that I needed to experience this emotional frustration in multiple ways, first inhaling it from others as a child, then believing it to be my own (turned into self-hatred), and later playing that same role as a parent.

A Unique Session

It has been the most unique counseling session I have ever had … with Keith and I camping on a hard concrete surface, in the open air under a thatched roof, just a short stone’s throw from the calm waters of Lake Atitlan. Lightning bugs sparkled in the darkness, as Keith and I called out to each other, back and forth through the mesh windows of our respective tents.

After thanking Keith for taking the time to help me understand what is happening to me, I close my eyes and attempt to sleep. Emotionally, I am now quite relaxed, and the physical pains inside my abdomen are no longer obviously apparent. But when I touch my belly, I recoil with pain as I experience physical pains that feel like tender bruises all over my solar plexus. Even though this is all energetic pain, the physical effects continue to feel as if I am now experiencing the bruising of having been literally kicked by a steel-toed boot.

But somehow, I manage to get a little bit of sleep, even with a tender belly and uncomfortable pads on hard ground.

Allow And Detach

Tuesday morning, I isolate myself in a hammock chair with a beautiful view of Lake Atitlan. I literally feel as if I am recovering from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) – continuing to feel emotionally traumatized, still being deeply contemplative and confused. I am actually feeling somewhat afraid to participate in another chocolate ceremony, one that is only hours away.

“How long does this type of childhood regression last?” I beg Keith for guidance when he stops to briefly chat with me.

“Usually, not much beyond the time it takes for you to allow and detach.” Keith reassures me.

I internalize Keith’s reassuring words, but the emotions continue to agonizingly flow through me. I am doing everything I can to simply be the observer of these emotions, to not attach to them, to not identify them as being me in the present-day. But these emotions are so overwhelming, that remaining in such an observer-state requires intense focus and concentration.

Intense Emotional Insights

Later, as I walk up near the kitchen, I see Keith standing nearby and again engage him in a short conversation. I am still struggling, as these childhood emotions rage through me with the power of river rapids.

“I’m still feeling like crying,” I express my confusion to Keith. “Is it OK to cry, or do I need to use the light?”

“Brenda,” Keith responds with compassion, “crying helps you feel the emotions so that you can release them. Of course it is OK to cry.”

What Keith says next, blows me away.

“Brenda,” Keith tears up, “I’ve been feeling your emotions all morning. It is strong enough to make ME cry.”

“You mean you can feel what I am feeling?” I ask with shock.

“Yes,” Keith responds with teary eyes, “I have been feeling your emotions very strongly.”

Wow, I had no idea Keith was so deeply sensitive to the emotions that he feels flowing in others.

Not Numb But Healed

Soon, I isolate myself on the boat dock. With notebook and pen in hand, I meditate and take notes regarding this crazy emotional journey. I am trying so hard to love that tiny child that was me … and I am feeling so much more compassion for how I now realize I had struggled as a tiny child … but I still recognize that some self-hatred and self-judgment remain inside me.

Once I finish scribbling all memories of the previous twenty-four hours, I set my notebook aside. I now want to cry, I want to release all of this pent-up emotion, but I am feeling so shut down and numb, that no more tears will flow.

“Brenda, numb is not the right word.” Keith later tells me as I share how my emotions have temporarily dried up. “Try ‘gone’ or ‘healed’ … more layers may come and go … but you are not numb … those emotions you were feeling earlier have been released.”

Journey Into Terror

Our second ceremony at the retreat center finally starts around noon. For the first half of our time together, I am fine, feeling reserved but stable. Feeling guided to help, I do a little energy work on a man who is struggling with some deep emotion-based nausea. As I do so, I feel my own heart shut down, and I myself begin to feel the nausea.

“Keith,” I ask for guidance, “I am feeling his emotion in my own body, and as I do so I feel tiny energetic shocks in my finger tips.”

Keith encourages me to continue what I am doing. I sit with this man for a while, but I finally disconnect and go sit by myself.

“I’m shutting down again,” I whisper to Keith as he briefly checks in with me. “Am I regressing again? … What am I doing?”

“Just allow and trust your process.” Keith reassures me.

As I sit, isolated and alone, I watch Keith continue to work with the others. I ponder how playing with my empath and energy abilities is increasingly causing me to panic and withdraw.

“I’m getting closer and closer to the pain of that empathic child,” I silently reflect, “and the closer I get, the more terrified I get – terrified of reconnecting with that actual pain in the present day.”

Too Much Fear

I remain silently disconnected from the group for the remainder of the ceremony. At the end, as Keith continues to engage one woman in a deep discussion, I finally feel strong enough to go over to sit with them.

“I feel your beautiful heart,” this deeply psychic woman shares with me. “But I am also connected to your deep pain.”

“Open your heart,” Keith guides this woman, “and allow Brenda to bring what she needs through you.”

As I sink into this shared process, imagining myself receiving channeled divine love through this woman, I briefly cry, feeling deeply vulnerable – but then the tears dry up and the emotions fade. I feel as if I shut the process down.

“Did what I needed come through?” I later ask Keith. “All I felt was the fear and my tears as I released some of that fear.”

“That WAS your process,” Keith reassures me. “When there is too much fear to do something, you do what you can and then try again another day. You processed some of that fear, which is exactly what you needed to do. Trust that your process is perfect. Quit trying to figure it out with your head.”

Emotional Burnout

Tuesday evening, as darkness settles in, Keith and I, along with a few other women, hire a private boat to glide us safely across the waters of Lake Atitlan, back to San Marcos. I am so exhausted, physically and emotionally, that I go to bed early and sleep late.

As I get ready for a chocolate ceremony on Wednesday, I am on the edge of emotional and inner-processing burnout. Today will be my seventh ceremony in the last eight days – with one of those being a one-on-one session.

Right before walking out to Keith’s house, I decide to pull a few more Tarot cards – all of which seem particularly appropriate for where I am at in my process. The last one that I pull, however, makes me nervous. I have once again pulled the three of swords – a card showing three swords (representing mind) stabbing a heart – a card that, to me, always indicates tough emotions ahead.

Perturbed Palliative Perceptions

I start feeling fairly centered and present in the chocolate ceremony, but do not feel connected with very much energy during the “Glow Meditation”.

When a few people begin to sink into emotions, I watch as Paul jumps to the rescue.

I want to be quite clear here in admitting that I am projecting quite strongly, that I am only describing my process, my perceptions, and my perturbed projections here. Paul is actually quite beautifully engaged in his own process – one that seems to dovetail amazingly well in driving all of my triggers in the direction of insanity.

When I observe Paul, what I perceive is a huge ego, running around the porch being the superman that saves everyone from their emotional pains – doing so beautifully in a palliative (symptom removing) way. But in my opinion, this is also shortchanging people, energetically releasing them from their emotions, so that they don’t need to actually heal the root cause. And I perceive this whole scene as frantically distracting, making it so people on one side of the porch (where Paul is working) cannot focus and pay attention to the true wisdom and healing being done on the other side through Keith’s guidance.

I watch my perceptions of Paul’s behavior with annoyed detachment. It drives me crazy, but I am aware that what is being triggered are my own inner issues – and I refrain from judging Paul himself.

Trapped Between Worlds

“What do you want to do today?” Keith eventually begins to work with me.

“I don’t know,” I respond with confusion. “I’m feeling very disconnected from everything, feeling like an alien in a place where I do not fit in, where I do not want to be, where everything in that place is driving me crazy.”

“Brenda,” Keith quickly shares, “I’m being guided to tell you that you have now regressed to that time in your childhood when you were in the process of being shut down … when much of your magic was shut down … when your magical world was no longer accessible to you … but when you did not yet fit into the world of your culture and family.”

“I felt hopeless and powerless,” I begin to explore the insights of this regression with Keith. “I was an alien in a place where I no longer wanted to be. I was powerless to do anything about it. I desperately wanted to run away and cry. I could not go back to the magic, and I did not want to go forward.”

On The Other Side

“You are being taken on a beautiful journey,” Keith takes a few minutes to guide me. “You need to allow and detach … allowing this experience to flow through you without making it real … without identifying with it as your now.”

Keith explains that if I attach to it, that I will manifest additional experiences to go through this again and again until I do let it diffuse with no more attachment, no identification, no making it real in the present day. He emphasizes that I am the adult, feeling these childhood emotions in the present, but that these are NOT my present-day emotions.

“You are literally feeling the emotions of this child.” Keith confidently reassures me. “Allow them to come up. You are being taken on a journey of undoing what was done … and your magical self lies on the other side of these experiences.”

Desperate Disempowering Assistance

I sit quietly meditating in this guidance, and begin to observe the ceremony from this new point of view. As I continue to observe what I perceive are Paul’s chaos-causing actions, I remain completely detached from judging Paul, instead being the observer of all of the emotions that are raging inside me as a result. I actually feel gratitude for how Paul is unknowingly acting in a stage play, showing me my deeper issues – issues that are agonizingly confusing and annoying to my side of this mutual script.

When I observe Paul, I repeatedly sink into a painful visual of my mother, running around my life with a metaphorical squirt bottle, squirting me with “fixing” whenever she saw the slightest thing out of place in my life. She was faithfully and desperately attempting to keep me on the straight and narrow path to God as she knew Him.

But as I observe these surging emotions of resentment toward my beautiful loving mother for trying to constantly help me, I am bombarded with the feeling that each time she corrected me, she was actually saying that “something was wrong with me” … “that she could see what was wrong” … “that my way was defective” … “and that she was going to correct it for me so that I will not stray.”

I know my mother’s intentions were pure, but I now realize, more than ever, that every time she “helped me be better”, that I actually felt increasingly disempowered by her involvement.

Confusing Childhood Chaos

Finally, I am so overwhelmed by this regression into confusing childhood chaos that I can handle no more triggering observation. Giving up in painful panic, I spread out a few cushions, pull a scarf over my shoulders, and curl up on my side – attempting to completely zone out for a while.

I literally become that detached child, alone and confused, not wanting to be here as I listen to what, in my current state, I perceive as chaos on the porch.

“I wish I could just run away.” I ponder in deep frustration. “I don’t want to be here in this new-age zoo.”

I know this is metaphorical, that these are the emotions of me as a child, not wanting to be in the culture of my family and religion, feeling detached, disconnected, judgmental, and just pretending to fit in … but I am getting LOST in this pain.

Eventually, as a friend briefly walks by and gently touches the side of my head with one hand and my thigh with the other, a few waves of tears gush out. As the tears flow, I feel a longing to be loved by a genuine love that actually understands me – not just a love that loves my mask and costume. But alas, a sense of knowing (remember I am still regressing) tells me that this love is something I cannot have.

Internalized Parental Projections

As my emotions again pass, being back in a state of detached numbness, I eventually sit up and lean back against the wall. I soon watch as Paul begins to engage in some emotional processing.

Crazy judgments suddenly surface in my heart. Almost immediately, I recognize these new judgments as being self-judgments that I internalized from my parents during my own shutting down.

“No, Keith, don’t help him,” these past voices rage in my head. “He is a troublemaker. He is faking it. He doesn’t deserve your assistance.”

I am shocked by the anger, resentment, and frustration that I suddenly feel toward Paul. Intuitively, I recognize that I am feeling all of the emotions that I can only imagine my parents must have felt toward me. I was also a magical little boy, who could simply not fit into the system that was being thrust upon me.

This Movie Sucks

As I struggle to maintain observer status, to not get lost in this new wave of childhood emotion, I remember something Keith had shared with me earlier.

“Brenda, see this all as a movie,” Keith had guided me. “Don’t get lost in the movie. The movie is designed to suck you into the emotions … but remember that it is a movie … you need to feel the emotions, while as best you can not buying into or identifying with them as your now.”

I mostly succeed in detaching from the projected movie around me … but not getting sucked into my childhood emotions and projections remains quite difficult.

I am shocked, and my heart warms, when at one point in his process, while Keith is on the other side of the porch, Paul actually asks for my advice on how to do something. This gesture helps me to somewhat soften and relax.

Chaos, Disconnection, And Confusion

As the ceremony concludes, I remain behind to chat with Keith. I am deeply consumed by my triggers and projections, desperately attempting to separate projection from reality.

In the process of sharing frustrations with Keith regarding how I perceived the ceremony today – of how I am projecting an environment in which I literally do not want to participate – I step over the limit with my projected complaints.

“Brenda,” Keith firmly scolds me, “you, in your space of confusion and judgment can turn a beautiful situation into one that was only chaos, disconnection, and confusion.”

Keith then reminds me that some beautiful and powerful work took place today, and that both he and Paul received many beautiful hugs and expressions of gratitude for the amazing ceremony.

“You are being taken on a journey,” Keith lovingly reminds me. “It is a journey that was set up by your Higher Self – a journey that is forcing you to let go of more of your need for rational mind.”

Begging For More

“I am so confused.” I share with Keith. “I spent my whole life desperately needing recipes for everything I would do. Can’t you give me some type of guidance as to how I can proceed?”

Keith tells me “no”, that he cannot give me guidance, that it cannot be done with the mind.

“Can’t you give me metaphorical guidance of how to address this without the mind?” I stubbornly refuse to accept no for an answer. “I am lost in my confusion and need for help.”

“No, I can’t,” Keith lovingly refuses to enable my childhood behavior, “You just need to allow this process to unfold.”

“But I’m terrified of getting lost in it.” I beg for something to hang onto. “I am barely not being lost in it now. I do not want to do this kicking and screaming … but it seems that this is what I am doing. I need to know how to do it an easier way.”

Several times, Keith has previously told me that I am regressing – that I simply need to allow, remain unattached, and not identify with the emotions as they flow and release through me – but in this painful confusion I cannot seem to see this beautiful advice as being enough.

I am really pathetically lost right now, projecting my God/separation drama all over Keith, refusing to take responsibility, refusing to remember and understand all of the beautiful guidance that has already been given me. I am in a very painful process, and it appears I need to learn this lesson the hard way.

Helpless Anger

Seconds later, Paul returns to the porch, and I believe there is no point in continuing my discussion with him there. I begin to say goodnight to Keith as I walk toward him to give him a hug.

“Hold on for a minute while I do this on my computer.” Keith asks me to wait.

“Brenda, this is your own creation,” Keith lovingly reminds me as we resume our discussion. “Everyone’s process is unique and different, and your Higher Self set this up for you to face one of your most core issues. It cannot be done with the mind and I cannot tell you how to get the answers. Your Higher Self set it up, and you have to find the answers yourself.

“F@ck my Higher Self,” I raise both middle fingers into the air with helpless, frustrated anger. “I feel so lost and alone. I just want to go crawl into a hole and pout … to be angry … and to throw a pity-party tantrum.”

“Brenda,” Keith reminds me, “these are not your emotions. These are the emotions of that child.”

Helplessly Lost

“Yeah,” I smile in frustration. “I realize that. That is actually what I was remembering and thinking about when I said that. That little child was angry at God, angry at Higher Self, and angry at anyone representing any type of Higher Energies. He was deeply angry that he was no longer getting the help he desperately needed.”

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you have been lost and alone your whole life. What is happening now is your own unique process to help you get out of being lost and alone. I cannot tell you what to do because I do not know what you need to do. It is YOUR process. You have to find your own way through it.”

“I am feeling so pissed.” I express to Keith. “I want help. I know I am deep in my God drama, angry at a God that would abandon a child to such a state of helpless confusion, of being lost and alone, not providing any answers on how to proceed. I know I am being taken back there to that state of anger at God … to the hopelessness of not knowing how to survive … of being turned into a people pleaser that could not think for myself … a people pleaser that could only win praise and acceptance by obeying rules.”

“I remembered in meditation this morning,” I share new understanding with Keith, “that I was so pathetically helpless and lacking in confidence as a child, that when asked to prepare a short talk for church, or to do any type of book report or paper for school, that I would throw a fit of confusion, demanding that my mother help me. I knew that I could not do it right on my own. I was terrified of what people would think of me if I did it wrong.”

“I had no creativity left in me,” I continue, “I thought I was stupid, that my ideas would be judged, that I wouldn’t fit in … WOW … I was terrified of the opinions of others, needing someone I trusted to do things for me.”

An Abandoned Alien

Finally, when I sense that my conversation with Keith is over, I turn around and walk away. I do not say goodnight. I do not give Keith or Paul a hug. I just walk home.

I am so lost in this childhood helplessness and anger, that even though I know I am projecting and simply regressing into past emotion, I cannot separate from it.

I feel pissed … I feel alone … I feel confused … and I feel deeply angry at a God that will not give me help that I can understand (projected onto Keith).

I want answers … and right now, the rational mind is all I know and trust … but everyone tells me that the mind is not the tool.

Interestingly enough, I realize that this is the exact opposite of what happened to me as a child. At the time of my shutdown and programming, I was connected to Higher Energies and the world of right-brained intuition – and I could not understand the crazy logic that was repeatedly used to invalidate what I knew. Through normal, loving, religious, and cultural conditioning, I was robbed of that divine connection and left as an alien in a world in which I did not know how to function.

Now, I remain somewhat disconnected from the Higher Energies, and it feels as if my Higher Self is robbing me of the use of my mind. I literally feel like an alien that no longer fits in either world. My old world is toast … and my new world remains just out of reach … and I am judging my self-created reality with a self-deprecating fury.

A Common Thread

As I flounder around my apartment, I am all worked up and emotionally pouting, continuing to feel indignant anger at God for not helping me in my darkest hour. I feel deeply alone and not trusting the flow … even though I continue to recognize that I am right in the middle of it. I feel as if I am being drug by the flow, kicking and screaming, because I do not know how to do this any other way.

As I browse my emails before bed, I find a quote from the book “Oneness” channeled by Rasha. The quote speaks to me. Following are those beautiful words:

“Time, as you know it to be, is moving forward at an unprecedented pace. Events appear to be crammed into an improbably short space, and at times seem to be happening simultaneously which, in fact, they are. It is crucial, as your rendezvous with Oneness draws you ever nearer, that you come to completion with the life themes that tether you to this reality. It is crucial that you attain a state of detachment from the energy charges that have magnetized you, habitually, throughout this lifetime. It is crucial that you recognize the common thread in the web of dramas that you have woven – that continue to ensnare you. And it is crucial that you allow yourself the grace of your own humanness in responding to these recurring situations – and love yourself for it.”

I love this quote. As I sit back to ponder the words, I also notice the Tarot cards that I pulled this morning. They are so perfect for where I am at – using spiritual fighting to try to regain my magic, using my rational-mind to massage emotions, resulting in a broken heart that is indeed being stabbed by swords from the mind.

“I need to back off a little,” I ponder the Oneness quote. “I am going to allow myself a little grace of humanness, loving myself, allowing, and surrendering to the flow. I am going to allow these childhood emotions to flow through me, to allow the charges to dissipate, and to not identify with them in the present. This childhood emotion is indeed a very common thread throughout my life’s biggest struggles.”

Painful Preparations

My web of dramas stem from my childhood helplessness in the creative side … demanding recipes and blue ribbons … feeling utter panic and confusion if I am expected to be creative without an external being holding my hand or doing it for me.

“God and divine love are inside of me,” I ponder, “but I cannot trust this knowledge because it was slammed, shammed, and psychically severed from me.

Near the end of my conversation with Keith this evening, while standing in his kitchen, he had congratulated me for no longer manifesting these patterns and inner issues as trauma and drama in the outside world … pointing out that I am instead manifesting it on the porch as a stage play with which I am mostly not identifying.

“That is still quite painful,” Keith had pointed out to me, “but far less painful than if you were playing it out in actual relationships with loved ones, etc…”

“This is preparing you to learn how to allow emotions to run through you without attachment and identification,” Keith had lovingly shared profound wisdom with me. “When you master doing this with your own present-life emotions, you will then be ready to work with past-life and parallel-dimension emotions – doing so in a way that you won’t identify with them and freak out by getting lost in them.”

In fact, several times today, Keith had told me I was actually doing quite well. In response, I had wanted to flip him off because I felt like such a loser for feeling what I was feeling.

A River Runs Through Me

As I struggle to fall asleep on Wednesday evening, my emotions remain extremely agitated. I am trying to allow my child’s emotions to run through me, but they continue to overwhelm me with confusion, anger, and doubt.

I struggle to not identify with these childhood emotions, to remember that they are not my reality today … but are instead the excruciating reality that I experienced as a child during my shutdown process.

I continue to be in the middle of this agonizing pain, wondering if I really trust anything that I thought I believed. It shocks me how overwhelmingly painful these emotions are … and if this is how much I am going to feel it, I cannot fathom trying to allow the emotions from parallel or past selves from other dimensions to run through me.

Then my mind wanders back to Keith’s tear-filled eyes on Tuesday morning as he told me that my emotions were so strong that he was having a hard time not crying.

“And if I further open my magic, am I going to feel the emotions of others that strongly too?” I ponder with fright. “I am not really sure if I like this very much.”

… to be continued …

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

As I attempt to write, fierce resistance tries to suck me back into newly exposed ego games. The part of me that wants to write knows these games for what they are – just a scared ego desperately attempting to hang onto a safe little sandbox created by childhood conditioning – desperately wanting to maintain control of my life as I thought it needed to be – desperately demanding that I will only play with Higher Energies on my terms.

These dysfunctional voices that try to pull me back into past pains are strong. Just a few minutes ago, as I meditatively asked my little inner children to carry those voices over to a metaphorical angelic garbage can in my subconscious mind, intense emotions erupted.

It is Monday, April 2, 2012, as I sit to write. Events in the past few days have taken me deep into new understandings about my God/separation drama – understandings that were facilitated by writing and integrating my last blog. Part of me can giggle and laugh with delight about the beautiful unfolding wisdom. Another part of me continues to kick and scream as it throws inner temper tantrums. It is an interesting journey to say the least.

I am half-tempted to skip out of time, to write about present day events, but my heart is now guiding me back in time – to a beautiful day in mid-February when I was also dealing with unfolding insights related to this God/separation drama. It is Friday, February 17, 2012.

Subconscious Relays

After a beautiful relaxed morning, I find myself in a very common spot – sitting cross-legged on a large red pillow, next to the kitchen door on the magical porch of a man that many call “The Chocolate Shaman”. Eighteen of us crowd this tiny covered patio area.

During the familiar “Glow Meditation”, I first focus on finding a big grin in my heart – but very soon I am back in a relay race with my little inner children, Sharon and Bobby, recreating the same imaginative subconscious play that I had done extensively in a private session with Keith, just yesterday.

I observe as Sharon rips a page out of a small rulebook – a book of rules that anchor me to a logical left-brained world. Then Bobby runs over to Higher Self and brings back a piece of my pushed-out magic. Next, my two tiny children switch places and repeat the process with Bobby ripping out the page.

Being almost oblivious to the world, I continue this imaginative relay in my subconscious until Keith taps me on the foot and asks me to participate in the process of another.

Deep Heart Sharing

Keith asks me to stare into the eyes of the young woman with whom he is working. She is a beautiful soul, deeply connected to the energies. For more than twenty minutes, the two of us stare into each other’s eyes with unbroken vulnerability on both sides. Throughout the process, Keith shares beautiful insights and guidance with this young woman.

In my role, I feel as if I am channeling Higher Energy through me and into her heart – while simultaneously receiving channeled love through her as well. I find this to be a beautiful glimpse into divine love on a very personal and vulnerable scale.

After a while, following inner guidance, I lock eyes with a young man across the porch and do the very same thing with him. I love the deep heart sharing.

A Frightened Two-Year-Old

Later, as he sets the stage to conduct a group empath training, Keith guides everyone to step it up a notch, to pull up the metaphorical floorboards and go deeper into their processes, another level down.

As I listen to Keith’s guidance I am already feeling a great deal of beautiful loving energy, but I also have some density in my abdomen that I have been simply observing with love and trust.

As I go deeper, I suddenly catch an intuitive visual of my two-year-old inner child, Sharon, hiding and crying behind a rock. I am not sure which aspect of Sharon that I am working with, but I get a strong feeling that this aspect of Sharon is in the process of being shut down, and that she is frightened, terrified, and scared of what is happening to her.

While I am not actually seeing an image, the intuitive picture is unusually vivid in my mind.

Please Show Me

As Keith progresses with the training, I feel much more trust in my imagination, and decide to “fake it till I make it” as I practice being an empath – asking little Sharon to participate with me. As I continue, I have the distinct impression that it is a magical and healed aspect of Sharon that is now working with me, holding space for me, showing me that we can do this.

I feel a little physical pressure on my throat and collarbone during the first phase where we repeat patterns of actually “eating” the emotional density and stuffing it away in our body. I find this experience to be as traumatic as ever when my abdomen begins to fill with density. I cannot wait for this exercise to end.

During the second stage, where we practice one way of moving emotional density from a positive polarity – letting the density move through us without touching us – I again feel the usual panic as I ask my little girl to run the density through me, to show me how it is done. As I do this, I again feel deeply connected to that little two-year-old hiding behind the rock – hiding from her magic – terrified to do this exercise.

“Please,” I ask Sharon with love, “show me how to do this. You do know how, and you know that this is safe because we are working in partnership with a Higher Being.”

While I do not feel a lot of energy movement in a physical way, I do experience very nice energy in my upper chakras while sensing mildly increased physical churning and pulsing in my abdomen.

Real Imagined Magic

During the third phase, I again remain quite blocked as far as energy sensitivity goes, but am delighted by visual metaphors that suddenly grace me.

Memories of a very vivid lucid dream flood my awareness – a dream that took place during my Sun Course at Las Piramides Del Ka during the summer of 2010. It was a dream in which I encountered a daughter-in-law at a town across Lake Atitlan – a dream in which strange events caused me to realize that I was dreaming – but I managed to remain in the dream while becoming fully conscious and aware. In that dream, my daughter-in-law had used a slingshot to launch a large shipping container into the air, sending it across the lake to deliver merchandise to other villages. Realizing it was a dream, I had playfully used my magical abilities to cause the container to explode – and then, as the contents fell into the lake, I had used my “will” to cause them to all rise back up into the container as I sent it back on its way. Needless to say, my daughter-in-law had been shocked by what I did.

“Sharon,” I giggle during this stage of the empath training, “why don’t we do the same thing, being lucid and wide awake in our imagination?”

For the next ten minutes, Sharon and I silently giggle as we imagine the emotional density that is coming toward us. Using our magic, we send that density out across the lake. When it is far enough away, we cause it to explode into a column of light that goes both up and down – up to the angels and down to the lake/Mother earth. This is actually quite fun, and for the first time during an empath training, I am really beginning to believe it is happening.

It is real magic, done with the imagination and heart connection. I am filled with a sense of confident knowing that it is actually happening. I cannot justify this with my logical mind, but I know it. At least for now, I feel a new sense of trust – trusting the perceptions that I cannot justify with logic – perceptions that were invalidated when I was young.

After the training is complete, while the group practices assisting two different women, I spend another half hour engaged in this delightful and magical visualization.

Childhood Innocence, Childhood Shame

Soon, I begin to observe a beautiful and innocent little girl across the porch. This young girl, brought by her mother, is about the same age that I am visualizing Sharon – right around two years old.

As I observe this young girl’s activity on the porch I begin to imagine myself as tiny little Bobby, just reaching the age of being able to talk, taking baths with my older sister in our family bathtub. At this stage, I am beginning to notice body parts, and I intuitively feel myself innocently questioning my mother as to why I am different from my sister, curiously asking what is wrong with me.

While I have no physical memory of such an incident, the intuitive visualization is very strong, and I deeply feel the painful emotions as my mother explains that I am a little boy, not a little girl. I feel shameful for having asked the question – as if I took on the emotions of my mothers panic and concerns for my having asked. I feel the confusion about my body – I already don’t like what I am being told – but I realize at a very young age that this is something that will get me in trouble if I talk about it – that I just need to accept it.

I am so alone, so curious, with no answers. As I ponder this scene, and other scenes from actual early memories at around age six or seven, I find myself feeling, in an unattached way, the guilt, shame, self-hatred, and self-loathing. I now recall clear and emotional memories, from as early as age six, of being deeply curious, wishing I did not have to be a boy.

I continue to observe this beautiful little two-year-old girl, using her as a focal point for helping me access my own playful innocence at such a tender age – for exploring the emotions that surface in waves as I feel myself longing to be in her little-girl body.

Gender Journeying

As I dig deeply, I can find no memory of ever liking my male appendage. I always felt somewhat shameful for having that weird thing between my legs, wondering what it was for – feeling an inexpressible and obsessive curiosity about girls and what it would be like to be able to be one. I believed myself to be a shameful pervert for having such feelings – desperately trying to suppress such curiosity – not then understanding that my feelings were actually a genuine longing of true self-expression.

After about fifteen minutes of losing myself in observing and feeling the pure innocence of this beautiful little girl, of wishing that I was her, Keith glances in my direction with a glowing look of recognition in his eyes. As I momentarily lock eyes with Keith, I am quite filled and overflowing with the awareness that the agitation that is right now boiling in my solar plexus is sexual and body self-hatred of having grown up with a male body. I know that these are real childhood emotions flowing through me – real buried painful feelings – not fabricated adult thinking.

“I would say it is more self-loathing.” Keith responds after I fill him in, in a generic way, regarding my unexpected meditative journey.

Utilizing Anger

“Brenda,” Keith guides me. “Imagine how an empathic child would feel, when any innocent comments to mommy were verbally resisted and corrected with strong emotional energies of shame and desperation to correct a deviant little child.”

The answer is so obvious. I would easily detect by her words and emotions that something was wrong with me, that what I had talked about was shameful, forbidden, evil, dirty, and something that could not be discussed. Of course, I would be filled with self-loathing.

As this meditation continues, I am starting to feel exceedingly angry. I want to push this self-loathing, shame, guilt, and self-hatred out of me.

“What is the proper way to utilize this anger?” I again beg Keith for guidance.

“Access that anger to give you an inner power to activate your life force to flow through you.” Keith responds. “As you do this, whatever is ready to move will move.”

Energetic Movements

My heart chakra remains filled with loving energy throughout this process, but as I meditate deeper, attempting to use my anger to initiate the flow of life force, I feel several sharp pains, one at the exact center of my third-eye chakra, and several in the base of my lower abdomen, on both sides.

“Should I try to pull this energy out by its roots?” I ask a question based on a few past experiences regarding second chakra energy.

“Not yet,” Keith guides me. “Let the process develop more before you do anything like that.”

I focus on bringing in love, simply surrendering to the divine love, asking it to show me what it would do – simply inviting and allowing. I also ask the light to show me what, if anything, it would do with my third-eye pains.

As I do this, I feel the pains soften, and intuitively know that something is flowing. The top of my head begins to tingle as I feel unfamiliar energy movements in that area. Soon, I experience the sensation of energy moving down a narrow channel in the front of my body, starting at the crown, and stopping somewhere in the upper solar plexus region. I feel very pleasant vibrations in all of my chakras.

Give It Back

“Keith,” I soon express new insights, “I am getting that these pains in my lower abdomen are not densities at all … that they are resistance to allowing my love and life force to flow in this region. I am so shut down that the resistance hurts. I have hated this sexuality part of me. I loathed it, not allowing any loving energy down there.”

“Good, Brenda.” Keith congratulates my awareness.

“I’m just allowing with no attachment,” I continue rambling, “trying to relax and trust that what needs to happen will happen … nothing more nothing less.”

Soon, a young woman interrupts the discussion to talk about rape issues, and about how she has taken on her mother’s rape victim energy as well.

“Give that energy back to your mother and others,” Keith guides this young woman. “It is theirs to deal with, not yours. By keeping it in you, it is being held away from them so that they cannot process and release it. You might release it together with her Higher Essence, or she may need to do it by herself.”

“Can I do this too?” I jump in as the conversation inspires my process. “I’m getting that my shame and self-loathing over sexuality need to go back to those who gave it to me.”

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith responds, “but it is not just your mother.”

“Yeah,” I quickly add, “I get that it was also my father, family, and all of my religious culture combined.”

A Disintegrating Rock

I feel myself just going through the motions as I engage in this process, starting out by simply faking it till I make it, just trusting, watching, and learning.

Soon, with my third eye chakra hurting sharply once again, a new intuition pops vividly into my mind.

“Keith,” I express with mild giggles, “the rock that my two-year-old Sharon was hiding behind is the block to my magic – a metaphorical rock that is plugging up my third-eye chakra.”

“Ask the light to show you what it would do.” Keith guides.

Soon, after expressing my intent and feeling no attachment, I intuitively sense that the rock is glowing brightly. Over time, it gradually begins to come apart, disintegrating and crumbling.

“Good, Brenda,” Keith congratulates me. “You are now in a space of trusting the flow, not judging yourself for what does or does not happen … very nice … you have come a long way from where you used to be.”

Progressing Perfectly

This mediation is a beautiful one – one of non-attachment, simply trusting that divine love will do all the work, and that I just need to cooperate as guided, and trust when I am waiting for more guidance.

Several times, something inside reminds me that I am trying to “do” something. Each time I catch myself, I again relax, surrender, and invite more divine loving energy into my heart. Every time I relax and surrender, I feel more energy movement. My third eye feels more relaxed and my abdomen, while still prickly with tiny pains, begins to move with more lightness and relaxation. Intuitively I know that things are progressing perfectly, and feel no judgment regarding what should or should not be happening with my process. I am being given a beautiful lesson in trusting the flow.

Something Magical

In the midst of this beautiful process, I am overwhelmed by the heat flowing through my body.

“Is it suddenly hotter here on the porch, or is this MY energy?” I ask Keith with a feeling of confused shock.

“Brenda,” Keith smiles back at me, “you are flowing so much life force right now that it is getting very hot.”

I am literally sweating from all of the energy. I take off my scarf and dry my underarms while flapping my shirt attempting to get some airflow on my sweat-dripping body. This intense energetic heat goes on for more than a half hour.

In this midst of this profound flow, I visualize my inner children using the inside of my belly as one of those blow-up playgrounds, imagining them jumping and bouncing off the cushioned walls. This seems to mix things up even more, allowing a little joy into the process. I want to giggle – and I do smile a little – but I sill cannot allow myself to belly laugh. Eventually, I get the strange sensation that Bobby and Sharon are using my bladder for a trampoline, and make a silly joke about that fact as I get up for a quick comfort break.

It is fun to feel a little humor. I am feeling much lighter, and energies are definitely flowing, but my rational mind has no idea what or why – only that something very magical is happening.

Gleefully Glowing

“Congratulations on some beautiful work today.” Keith shares near the end of ceremony. “I think you have probably done enough for today.”

“I’m not doing anything,” I giggle back, “except for bringing in love and observing. This is not work. It is perfect.”

As I am about to leave, three new people show up with a desire to drink chocolate, so I opt to remain for a while to hold space. Soon, Keith guides them in a “Glow Meditation”.

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts, “I’m being guided to tell you that if you pay attention, you will understand more about why you don’t glow like you want to.”

“Am I not doing it fully?” I question with surprise. “I thought I WAS bringing in Higher Energies and glowing.”

“Just pay attention and listen and observe.” Keith counsels.

“I’ve never fully glowed before,” I answer as the insights flow, “because I’ve never fully allowed Higher Energies to come in. The more I allow, the more I feel real self-love and divine energies flowing.”

At least for now, I am very much out of my head and into Higher Energies – plus I am trusting my imagination. As I surrender ever deeper, I feel even more energy vibrating in my crown, a mild peaceful presence on my forehead, and very nice energy in my throat and heart. My abdomen continues to agitate with mild pains, but it is pleasant at the same time. I can tell that things are happening, churning, and dissolving into pieces as the vibrations continue.

It is probably the best “Glow Meditation” I have ever had.

Penetrating Noisy Nuisance

Saturday, after a delightful day of writing about magical mutants, I treat my inner children to a burger and fries before finishing my blog and retiring for some much-needed sleep.

But it seems I am facing a new challenge. I have lovingly learned to handle almost any type of noise in San Marcos (and they are at times extremely loud) – any type except noisy rude neighbors, that is. There is a small studio apartment adjacent to my living room wall. The walls are thick concrete, but there are cracks near the wooden ceiling, with no insulation of any type. Any talking at slightly louder-than-normal volume seems to echo through the ceiling, between rooms, as if we were occupying the same space.

As several people loudly party and drink next door, they loose all inhibition – laughing, playing loud music, and talking as if they are yelling across a noisy nightclub. The whole experience has me remembering a repeating pattern – that of family camping trips – and of many times in Mexico and Belize when I was overwhelmed by the noises of loud partying people.

“I wonder what the lesson for me is?” I ponder as I struggle to accept and ignore this penetrating noisy nuisance.

Even at 1:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, the noise is continuing so loudly that earplugs give me very little relief. Eventually, I manage to doze off a tiny bit. But agitated energy flows through my body – so much so, that the rest I do get is very broken and restless.

Further Out Of the Box

Sunday morning, I am exhausted as I crawl out of bed shortly after 6:00 a.m. – the energy in my body remains so agitated that attempts at further sleep seem futile. I focus on meditating, attempting to find non-attachment to the idea of neighborly noise. I realize that noisy neighbors have always triggered a sense of self-righteous anger in me – a feeling of “how dare they be so rude and do this to me”.

As I ponder, I know that I need to let go of emotional attachment – to release the sensation of being personally attacked by their rudeness. Based on the language being spoken, I know that they are from a Spanish-speaking country. I know from extensive experience, that in the Latin-American cultures I have visited, noise seems to be a normal part of everyday living – that people make whatever noise they want to make – that others simply ignore it as being normal, make their own noise, and get on with their lives.

“I’ll just quit being angry and instead make my own noise – but doing so without any negative or revengeful intent.” I resolve to try a new experiment – an experiment to push me further out of the box of my own cultural conditioning.

Embracing Noise Patterns

At first I am quite quiet … but as I notice the noise levels again beginning to heighten next door, I stop being careful about my own noise.

“I can’t be noisy,” I temporarily fight myself, “it is being extremely rude if I am noisy.”

Soon, however, I turn on some music, to normal volume, just loud enough to mask the noises next door. Then, a little later, I watch a movie on my computer, without earplugs – nothing blaringly loud, but at normal volume. I note that when I get noisy, they quiet down a little, and I respond by doing the same, turning my volume down to match theirs. I sense that they are realizing how thin the walls actually are, and are trying to compensate and be polite. I feel a sense of appreciation for their perceived behavior.

I find myself feeling extremely uncomfortable, beating myself up at how rude I am being – but every time I check in with my motives, I realize that I am not being rude or vindictive, but am simply stepping further out of my own cultural box, embracing the noise patterns of my neighbors.

What I Need

“How are you doing today?” Keith asks when I step into his kitchen before the Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony.

“Exhausted,” I respond, quickly filling him in on my nighttime saga.

“Last night was part of your process.” Keith smiles at me, reassuring me that all is well.

I already know he is right. I am totally learning that everything in my life, on or off Keith’s magical porch, seems to synchronously line up as part of a perfectly created reality – always giving me exactly what I need next, whether I want it or not.

Group Observations

As the ceremony progresses, I observe with detachment as Paul runs around doing lots of energy work on others. I perceive his behavior as extremely hyperactive, as seeking to catch people even before they go into emotional release, heading them off by helping them flow tears and move energy long before the need is obvious to me. It seems that every time I watch him, something inside me is deeply triggered, reminding me of how much I hate what I perceive as fixing.

But I do not know if Paul is fixing or not. I do not even care or judge Paul’s behavior. I trust that if something needs to be said, that Keith will intervene. Instead, I simply observe Paul’s behavior, noting that what I see continues to cause me to painfully look within at my own dysfunctions.

Meanwhile, I see Paul’s behavior as such overkill, that I respond by doing nothing except sit still, filling my heart with love while imagining myself holding a powerful energy space for the group as a whole – energetically connecting to each person, while simultaneously observing the pains in my solar plexus.

I note that I feel some loving power in my heart – but it is weak, nowhere near full strength.

Giving is Receiving

Soon, I watch as a woman feels guided to do some energy work on a man seated near to me. As she soon begins to sob, I intuitively know that she is taking in painful emotions from this man, bringing them inside of her.

“Disconnect from him,” I lean over and whisper. “You are taking his pain into you. Now release all of the energy that you took in and give it to me.”

For about ten minutes, I hold her hand and lightly touch her heart and high heart areas, occasionally touching her forehead. I am still not very sensitive to the actual flow of energies, but intuitively, I know that I am acting as an empath, and that she is letting me handle those painful densities for her.

“Now bring in the light.” I guide her when I sense that she is done releasing.

Soon she is giggling with joy … and working with her has also filled me with new loving energy.

Energetic Metaphors

When things settle, I again focus on holding a powerful group space. I feel no motivation to run around the porch, as Paul does, unless something guides me inside to do so.

Late in the ceremony, Keith is guided to conduct another empath training for those in the group who tend to sponge the emotions of others and take them inside of themselves. As has been happening nearly every ceremony, the training today triggers an increasing level of inner fear and energetic agitation. Something inside is terrified to open this up.

During the training, I feel a very sharp pain at the “nail-in-my-heart” spot … but I also note that the location seems to be an inch or two higher than I remember it.

“This pain is resistance to bringing in higher energies to my heart.” I share my intuitions with Keith at an appropriate moment. “And I am realizing that this spot is slightly moving around from one ceremony to the next. Right now it is higher than usual.”

“That is to let you know that it is energetic and not physical.” Keith coaches me.

Phase three of the training leaves me whimpering as I sense the crazy fearful emotions that are running around inside of me. For the next half hour, I sit holding my heart, lightly crying as I allow these fears and pains to flow without judgment.

A Loving Gesture

“OK, is there anyone else that needs help?” Keith asks as the ceremony nears completion.

I am still whimpering quietly, holding my heart, desperately wanting assistance. But I am also somewhat lost in my God/separation drama, feeling as if Keith is ignoring me today – believing that my need is obvious and that I should not have to ask – believing that if I do ask that Keith will not really help me anyway – believing that he will make me find my own answer, and I do not feel capable of doing that right now.

It will be weeks before I fully understand the nature of these games that I am playing with Higher Energies, and that I am projecting onto Keith.

“I think Brenda is ready for something,” Paul speaks up.

I am blown away by Paul’s loving gesture.

An Energetic Oven

“I feel like something is ready to open further.” I share with Keith when he then turns to me. “But I am dealing with lots of pains and feeling emotions of terror. Can you help me or guide me?”

Without answering my question, Keith turns and talks to a man across the porch.

“Come over here and feel this.” Keith guides the man to place his hands above my crown chakra, just an inch or two above my head.

As I continue to sit in my terror and pains, I notice that the man acts totally amazed.

“Wow, I can feel a lot of warm energy flowing through her crown.” The man tells Keith.

I almost feel as if Keith is teasing me when he continues to ignore my situation, and instead calls multiple people over, one after the other, asking them to each take turns feeling the powerful heat coming out of my crown.

As this scene unfolds, I notice that I too am feeling extremely hot, just as I was on Friday. The intense heat forces me to remove my sweatshirt. I am sweating profusely. Meanwhile, the pains in my nail-in-my-heart spot and solar plexus are rapidly intensifying as my terror and emotional discomfort grow ever stronger.

Only one out of about five people tells Keith that he cannot feel the heat coming out of my crown.

“That was to show you that this heat is energetic and not real physical heat.” Keith later tells me in response to that person’s insensitivity to the energy.

A Powerful Flow

Keith asks Paul to read a short paragraph regarding the significance of the seventh chakra (crown chakra) – talking about its powerful connection with spirituality. I feel quite annoyed by this and express that this feels mental and I do not relate to it.

“I don’t want rational-mind descriptions right now,” I beg Keith for his focus, “I want help with my pains and terror.”

“We’re not making fun of you, Brenda.” Keith reassures me. “We’re just pointing out the powerful flow of energy you are bringing through you right now … and this comes from someone who says they cannot bring in the light … this is powerful stuff.”

“Yeah, I can feel the intensity of the heat,” I respond, “but I am still so shut down that I would never have recognized it as a flow of energy.”

Finally, I take everyone seriously, and realize that this is real, that I am indeed running a lot of light energy through me. When I surrender and focus, even with blocked sensitivities, I can indeed feel some energy. I mildly perceive it as a narrow channel of energy flowing down the front of my body, starting at the top of my head, flowing to the bottom of my rib cage, skipping my solar plexus, and then vibrating lightly in the bottom of my abdomen. And my third-eye chakra is tingling as if it is trying to open a little more.

Bring Vs. Allow

Meanwhile, I have continued to whimper lightly throughout this conversation, and Keith has asked three or four young women to sit in a semi-circle in front of me, holding space while I process this emotion.

As I begin to increase awareness of this flow of energy, and as the pains in my “nail-in-my-heart” spot sharply intensify, I begin to involuntarily dry-heave and cough, along with intensified tears. I feel as if my body is attempting to force these heart-chakra pains out through my throat – and I literally feel some of the pain flow out of that sharply aching spot as I do so.

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts lovingly. “The way to move this density, fear, and pain, is to allow the light to do it for you … relax … allow … quit trying to do it yourself. You set this whole situation up to give you a powerful example of the power of allowing.”

“Hold out your hands.” Keith guides me into a familiar metaphor. “In your right hand, hold the concept of ‘bring in the light to help you’ … and in your left hand put the concept of ‘allow’. Sit with them both for a minute and tell me how you feel the subtle difference in the energies of these two hands.”

“The ‘bring in the light’ feels like work,” I respond, “and the ‘allow’ feels like simply trusting the flow, watching, and observing. I want to allow.”

Peaceful Surrender

As I surrender all effort, I sit back on my pillow, relax my muscles, and simply allow. Gradually, I begin to feel an increase in the flow of energy down the front channel that I felt earlier. One by one, the sharp pains subside and disappear, being replaced by calm, relaxing, peaceful vibrations.

And the emotions have vanished too – there are no more signs of that terror and fear that had inexplicably gripped me so strongly.

I sit and bask in this beautiful space until the very end of the ceremony, which lasts for at least another half hour or so.

Ceremonial Wrap-Up

It has been a beautiful ceremony today. I have observed behavior (Paul’s) that would have once triggered me deeply – but I have somehow managed to once again simply ignore it, having no noticeable emotional charge.

And wow, did I ever bring in a lot of energy. As confused as my rational-mind continues to be, I know that my upper chakras are gradually opening more every ceremony – and there is definitely a softening happening in the lower three as well.

The energy I feel is so peaceful that I simply sit on my pillow as people begin to filter out of the ceremony. I feel as if I did not do much other than to focus on my own process, but several people stop to hug me, expressing gratitude for my contribution. One young woman even mentions that she felt as if we were doing the same work together.

I love such feedback. I love knowing that even when I am mostly just doing my own work, that others can share in the energy and find their own wave to ride.

Rehearsed Courage

As the porch mostly clears, I briefly chat with Keith, summarizing my lifelong history with emotional reactions to noisy neighbors.

“Can you give me some advice about how to handle my triggers and emotions regarding noisy neighbors?” I ask Keith for guidance. “I am tired of repeatedly creating a reality where noisy neighbors disturb my peace. How can I respond in a positive way where I can release all of the energetic charges that keep causing me to manifest a repeat of this lesson?”

“Last night was part of your process,” Keith again confirms. “But perhaps another important part of this lesson might be for you to find the courage to express your feelings in a positive way.”

Keith then suggests walking next door, introducing myself, and mentioning something like “You may not know it, because I am a very quiet person, but these walls are paper thin, and I hear everything next door as if it was in my own room.”

“I wanted to do that last night,” I share with Keith. “But there were a couple of really loud men over their, they were drinking, and I did not feel it would be particularly smart for me to talk to them at that time.”

As I walk home, I repeatedly rehearse a loving neighborly speech. I am delighted to discover that no speech is necessary. The neighbors have cleared out, having only spent one night.

Quite Hot

It has been a powerful three days – filled with increasing clarity and insights regarding the use of imagination as a powerful tool in working with magic and the subconscious mind.

On Friday, that imagination connected me with profound insights regarding the emotions of my own inner children – of two different aspects of my two-year-old self – giving me strong intuitive glimpses into the frightening journey of a young child engulfed in the shutdown of magic and sexuality. That same imagination allowed me to heal portions of that magic, using it to access the metaphors of a lucid dream, and using those metaphors to have a very real experience in moving energy.

And the unexpected dessert for that magic was an amazing flow of energy that made me feel so much heat in my body that I could barely tolerate it.

On Saturday, that imagination allowed me to have a great deal of fun connecting to the metaphors as I wrote “A Marvelous Magical Mutant Adventure”.

And On Sunday, that same tool took me deep into the pain and terror of a young child attempting to reopen the magic – taking me on a beautiful adventure of peaceful surrender and allowing – an adventure that once again ended with an amazing flow of magical heat-producing energy throughout my body.

If I say so myself, I have been quite “hot” lately.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

It is February 15 – the day after Valentines Day – the day after energetically connecting with beautiful and deeper dimensions of love. I wish I could hang onto this profound sensation of loving peace, but I know in my heart that I am still engaged in an unfolding adventure, that there is no such thing as “having arrived”, and that “this too shall pass”.

But I had no idea how quickly this connected loving peace would do just that.

Basking In the Light

After a lazy and relaxed Wednesday morning, I walk out to Keith’s porch for what I anticipate will be another beautiful afternoon chocolate ceremony. Approximately fifteen people fill the porch as we find the smile in our hearts and surrender to the usual “Glow” meditation.

As I focus on basking in the love of divine light, I begin to experience very familiar-but-mild aching in my solar plexus. Rather than judge this physical metaphor of emotional density, I simply focus on divine love, not attempting to fix the pain in any way. As I observe this process, nothing changes. The pains do not dissolve into the light, and no intuitive insights flow. I feel somewhat stuck.

Afterward, when Keith eventually turns to work with me, I share my experience.

“Bring in the light,” Keith coaches me, “and ask it to show you what it would do with this density.”

“That is what I am already focused on doing.” I respond. “But I’ll do it some more.”

Soon, I am back in silent meditation, focusing on getting out of my head and simply being the observer, having no expectations, just allowing and surrendering.

Spinning My Wheels

“I feel as if I am just spinning my wheels and going nowhere fast.” I share with Keith when he eventually returns to work with me. “I am still bringing in love and just observing, but nothing is happening.”

“Go into that ‘spinning your wheels’ metaphor.” Keith coaches. “There is something else that you have not yet gotten … something that needs you to find it.”

“But when I actively look for things, I feel as if I am in my head.” I respond in confusion. “I feel like I am pushing rather than following a flow.”

“Close your eyes and go back inside.” Keith guides me before again moving on to work with others.

A Sliver Of Light

Soon, I feel guided to invite my resistance energies to join me in a metaphorical inner conference room. As I visualize all of these energies gathered around a large oblong wooden table, I am surprised to note that the room is very dark. All of the windows are covered by thick louvered blinds. Soon I open up a tiny crack in one of the blinds, allowing a sliver of divine light to filter through.

As I feel the brightness of this light suddenly streak into the dark room, I intuitively sense that many of those seated around the table are quite squeamish and uncomfortable – but they remain in their seats.

As I sit for a while with this metaphor, I begin to feel the increasingly intense fear that permeates this dark room. All of these resistance energies are extremely frightened by the concept of bringing in any more light.

Emotions begin to consume me as the intensity of the fear becomes quite real … as does an emerging sensation of repressed anger.

Vanishing Emotion

“How are you doing?” Keith asks when he eventually returns to work with me.

After verbalizing my silent inner journey, filling Keith in on my metaphors, I ask for advice, indicating that I want follow this process with the assistance of Higher Energies.

“That is definitely our goal.” Keith strongly agrees.

“Go into this deep emotion,” Keith guides me after I begin to cry. “Bring in more light and take the light with you.”

“I thought I was already connected to the light.” I respond with confusion.

“Well, bring in some more then.” Keith reiterates his guidance.

As I focus on bringing in more light and love, the fearful and angry emotions that were pulsing in my body suddenly vanish.

“I feel somewhat cheated,” I express my confusion, “like the light just pulled me out of my process, causing me to lose the emotion completely. Part of me insists that I have to feel that emotion longer and deeper.”

“Brenda, the light simply transmuted the emotion in that instant.” Keith explains. “It is no longer there. That is how powerful your gifts are. You felt it to the core, asked for more light, and it vanished. That is all you needed.”

“Really?” I ask with surprise. “I felt violated and fixed when the emotion disappeared. I am smart, but I would have never figured that out on my own.”

“I needed the same assistance and feedback during my own training.” Keith acknowledges.

Somehow Squashed

As I sit in a state of “WOW” realization, my thoughts wander to the fact that I continue to bridle my feeling of joy, consistently resisting expressions of uninhibited laughter.

“I used to think this inhibition started at around age eleven.” I share with Keith. “But I am suddenly remembering being very young, sitting in the back seat of our family car, while my sister was belly laughing. She was having so much fun as everyone laughed with her – except for me that is. I remember that I felt extremely inhibited.”

“Even then, at what must have been around five years old,” I tell Keith, “I envied my sister’s ability to belly laugh. I simply could not allow myself to laugh like that … I was too nervous and self-conscious.”

“I don’t understand why or how,” I query Keith for insights, “but my ability to be joyful was somehow squashed at a very young age.”

Rejected And Sad

“That word you just recently wrote about comes to mind.” Keith talks in riddles.

“Huh?” I respond with a puzzled tone.

“Reverence,” Keith reminds me.

“Yeah, I think I was raised in a home where reverence was honored above all,” I begin to ramble, “and joy had to be reined in within acceptable boundaries. Of course we laughed and had fun during shared family activities – but something inside me always knew that if I laughed too hard or ‘inappropriately’, that someone would say something to rein me in, to ridicule and tease me, or to make me feel self-conscious – after which I would completely shut down, feeling rejected and sad. I was extremely sensitive.”

“Brenda,” Keith guides me before moving on. “See that child as the scared puppy under the sofa … frightened of laughing.”

A Pushy Giggling Gang

Meanwhile, as I ponder this lifelong fear of laughing, I observe a strange stream of events on the porch – and to my delight, I watch them without feeling any type of emotional charge or judgment.

First, I note that a new couple on the porch begins to work with a man I will call Bill – a man who has been profoundly stuck in suppressed anger for several ceremonies. At first, I am quite pleased by what I see. This couple and several others gather around Bill in a small circle. They hold hands, laugh and giggle, and attempt to get Bill to join them in their laughter. Bill does not laugh with them, but is not seeming stressed or resistant either.

Soon, however, I observe as this young couple begins to gang up on Bill, trying to push him deeper. Repeatedly I overhear as Bill tells them “I am not ready to go there today … maybe I can do that on Friday, but not today.”

But this couple continues to push. To my delight, I watch as Paul suggests to the couple that maybe they should stop – yet they ignore Paul and continue to push anyway. I deeply relate to Bill’s resistance, so I finally decide to speak up.

“You are trying to push him where he is not ready to go.” I lovingly express to this couple. “Pushing him right now will only trigger fears and cause his walls of resistance to go up even stronger, backfiring on the whole process.”

The couple ignores me too and continues to push, forcefully attempting to coerce Bill into joy and laugher. While watching this scene, I ponder how strong my own resistance would be if someone were to try to force me to laugh – to force that scared little puppy under my sofa to laugh.

Twice more, I express my truth to the couple, suggesting that they back off and stop pushing Bill. Both times, they ignore me, yet again.

Still feeling pure love in my heart, having no emotional charge, and being completely unattached to the situation, I withdraw and say nothing more, feeling complete acceptance, knowing that if this were critical that Keith would feel guided to shut it down (Keith is deeply involved in working with someone else right now).

A Pushing Reprise

Meanwhile, elsewhere on the porch, I watch as another woman begins to do energy work on a young man that I will call Steven. As I watch the unfolding events, “fixing red alerts” sound all over in my intuitions. Minutes later, three others join in the gang, including Paul, eagerly pushing Steven to go deeper, soon driving him to a point of resistant tears.

“I am not ready to go there right now.” Steven pushes back to this small group of well-intentioned healers. “I don’t want to do this right now.”

The group does not stop. Repeatedly Steven tells them he is not ready, but they continue to try to push him to move beyond his fears.

Not feeling guided to intervene, I simply observe and learn, wondering what the purpose of this might be. Soon, Keith asks me to join him in working with someone else. Before settling in, I ask him about the pushing that is going on – and Keith reassures me that all is OK. Trusting Keith, I observe with pain as I note that Steven remains quite shut down and detached for the remainder of the ceremony.

Double Delighted

Later, after a beautiful empath training in which I again struggle with fears of opening, I return to my seat and focus on my own energies.

Soon, Paul goes over to Bill and begins to push.

“Come on,” Paul laughs loudly in Bill’s face, “just laugh with me. Allow the joy to come in.”

“Paul,” I interrupt. “When someone cannot laugh, it is an assault on them to laugh in their face … attempting to goad them into laughter. You are pushing him where he does not feel capable of going right now.”

“I can laugh if I want to,” Paul barks at me. “If that is what I am feeling, I will express it.”

“Well, just for the record,” I respond. “For me … being so stuck in being unable to feel the joy myself … if you pushed me this way it would backfire in a big way. It would feel like ridicule, invalidation, and pushing … as if you were saying that my inability to laugh is wrong and stupid … that I should just get over it.”

I am delighted that I am having this conversation without any emotional charge or feelings of judgment. I am simply lovingly speaking my truth, expressing my own perceptions with confidence.

I am even more delighted when Paul reaches out his hand in a friendly gesture of a handshake and a knuckle bump – a loving acknowledgment that we can disagree without hating each other. I am very proud of myself for my non-attachment – for how I can perceive and express my perceptions without the attack, the emotion, the judgment, the resistance, or the self-flogging. Wow….

The Reverent Repressor

Soon, at Paul’s request, Keith guides the porch into a group meditation. My mind quickly wanders as I ponder the events of the last few hours … my childhood insecurities surrounding the expression of laughter … the metaphor of the scared puppy under a sofa (me, afraid to laugh) … and the obvious synchronous unfolding of events as I observe the pushy attempts of others in trying to force someone to laugh.

I begin to whimper with sadness as I realize the perfection of my conversation with Paul about how I thought it was so inappropriate to push joy and laughter onto someone who cannot laugh.

“This is me, pushing seriousness onto my own inner child.” I ponder as I begin to cry with flowing, gentle tears.

I feel deep guilt and sadness that a hidden part of me continues to take the “reverence-enforcer” role of scolding any attempts to push joy … to express joy. In fact, I feel deep gratitude toward Paul for how our little friendly spat unfolded.

“Wow,” I ponder with shock, “Part of me is that fuddy-duddy adult, repressing this child … and I still do not know why I do it.”

Self-Inflicted Discipline

I cry mildly in my own little meditative world while Keith continues guiding the group meditation.

“Feel that loving support.” Keith suddenly interrupts the group meditation and speaks to me.

“Huh,” I look up confused. “I’m not even following the group meditation right now. I am in my own little world, feeling a lot of powerful love in my heart, while simultaneously feeling deep sadness. I feel things moving around inside of me, and am experiencing energy vibrations at that nail-in-my-heart spot.”

“I think this shutdown of my ability to feel joy is part of the key to my blown fuse. It happened at a very young age. I was somehow not allowed to express divine joy and playfulness … believing that my heart must be contained within the boundaries of proper reverent expression. And now, as an adult, I continue to do to myself what was done to me … I discipline myself whenever I get close to unbridled laughter.”

Following The Flow

As the group meditation continues, I sink back into my own private reality. I am beginning to dip my pinkie into vast reservoirs of anger – anger at how my joy was somehow repressed – anger at a hidden part of my own energy that continues to repress this joy.

I recognize this hidden repressor as a very real energy – an energy that tediously enforces the no-joy-zone … the no-laughter-zone … unless of course I am in appropriate situations where I might allow myself to express a small amount of “proper and restrained” laughter in very limited doses.

When the group meditation ends, the ceremony quickly dissolves. Part of me was hoping to work more deeply into this emotion, but I can now clearly see that the flow is taking me in a different direction.

Inspired Courage

Steven quickly comes over and asks if he can sit by me. I quickly give him a huge hug, responding that I would love to visit.

“I admire your beautiful courage and the strength of your heart.” Steven blows me away with unexpected feedback. “I look up to you so much.”

“Wow,” I respond, “Thank you for the feedback.”

“How are you doing now?” I shift the conversation. “I could feel and see how traumatized you seemed earlier when people were trying to help you. I was really concerned.”

“Thanks for noticing that … and for saying something about it.” Steven validates my perceptions. “It was you, and what you said to the others that gave me the courage to finally ask them to stop. I feel so bad … they were trying so hard to help me … their hearts were in the right place … and I didn’t want to say anything to them … but you gave me the courage to ask them to stop.”

Conversations On Pushing

As this conversation with Steven unfolds, I notice that Bill is still seated across the porch, listening in.

“You too were pushed way beyond your comfort zone.” I speak to Bill. “How are you doing?”

Bill also acknowledges how people were trying to push him … minimizing the impact, while thanking me for noticing and being concerned.

Paul then jumps into the conversation. I was unaware that Paul was even listening.

“We were just doing the same thing today that you did with Chris last week.” Paul defends the pushing.

“No, it was not even close to the same.” I lovingly respond with confidence. “When I was working with Chris … I was aware that I was pushing a tiny bit, but I was constantly checking in with Chris to make sure that my help was wanted, repeatedly asking Chris to tell me to stop anytime. Throughout that interaction, Chris asked me to continue what I was doing, and the result was a beautiful one.”

I love how Paul is also noticing that both Bill and Steven are validating my words.

“I have a profound sensitivity to the energies of fixing and pushing.” I share lovingly with Paul. “Today I observed and perceived a great deal of it … but I did not judge … I did not get emotionally charged … and I provided loving feedback throughout.”

To my delight, Paul gives me a “high-five” and another knuckle bump, showing his approval at my ability to speak up without engaging in conflict.

Overthrowing Powerlessness

After the porch clears, I chat briefly with Keith, first touching base about the pushing energy today. Keith validates my perceptions and congratulates how I handled myself. I can clearly see how not intervening more at the time has served as a deeper teaching lesson for all involved. I love how that works.

Then I share more about my own process near the end – a process of connecting to the light, the sadness, and the hidden anger – wondering if I was accessing real emotions or just letting ego distract me from further connecting with the light.

“I was feeling a lot of love while I was crying at the end.” I ask for guidance. “But I’m wondering if perhaps I am scamming myself.”

“Trust what you feel.” Keith responds. “If you miss something, it will come back around … and if you felt a lot of love with the sadness, trust that perception.”

“What about feeling like I need to access this anger?” I dig further. “How do I do that with the light? I don’t want to punch and scream the anger out … I want to do it more smoothly.”

“Use the anger to overthrow the inner energy that is squashing you.” Keith responds. “Find the power to overthrow the powerlessness of simply being complacent with the energetic part that continues to suppress you.”

Bedtime Pondering

As I finish up my notes for this beautiful day, I remain slightly confused. I find myself in new territory, doing things differently, wondering if I really did anything at all today.

I ponder more about my childhood … remembering many times when I felt very happy. But then I realize that those times were always when I was stretching outside of the restricted emotional boundaries – singing in an amazing fourth-grade choir – playing the piano – and playing rough-and-tumble games around the neighborhood. But when I was home, in most other circumstances, I felt an implicit, restrictive, energetic wall that somehow suppressed my heart.

“It was only in acceptable creative expression or organized play that I was able to access that joy.” I ponder with new clarity.

“And wow, what a beautiful series of interactions I had with Paul today.” I ponder in a different direction. “He even hugged me when he left.”

Nagging Doubts

But as I rest on my pillow, nagging doubts begin to consume me. I am taken back to a few days ago when Keith asked me to access the power of the masculine voice inside of me – something that had originally been suggested by Paul several weeks earlier – something that had repeatedly confused and annoyed me ever since that original suggestion. The way Keith handled it had left me feeling deeply frustrated. After chewing on this, and not being able to spit it out, I write Keith an email, shortly before 10:00 p.m., asking for some type of clarification to sooth my projected confusion.

“Several times the same advice has come up,” I write to Keith in my email, “and just a few days ago (on Sunday) you again (along with Paul) gave me the same advice. I felt like you were speaking riddles to me, with me having no clue what you wanted me to try to do. […] What confuses me is that the way you give the advice it sounds like any dummy should understand what you are saying. I’m no dummy, but I am totally and utterly lost by the translation of the metaphor.”

“This is so silly … but it is really driving me crazy right now … like I’m a dummy or something … my ego is really chewing on this one LOL … I want to follow this clue, but am clueless.”

A Dunce Among Geniuses

Thursday morning I am up at 6:15. I feel so annoyed and detached that I delay any attempts at meditation. Finally, at 7:15 a.m., I slip into a quick round of deep tears and allow myself to go deeper.

As I meditate, I find myself connected to a little inner child who was unable to express perceptions. While deeply experiencing the agony of this intense pain, I invite the light to help me. But, as I step back to focus on the Higher Energies, the emotions suddenly vanish. Feeling as if I simply “lost” the emotion, I guide myself back into feeling it deeply, and again invite the light – and again the emotions vanish.

Both times, I feel violated and invalidated, shortchanged by how the emotions disappeared, feeling as if I must have just stuffed them down. I am so confused about what I am doing … so confused as to whether I am making progress in working with the light, or whether I am just spinning my wheels, just stuffing the emotions down so they will come back on another day. I am in new territory, feeling like a dunce in a school for healing geniuses … a logical software engineer trying to make sense of a right-brained world.

Games With God

“I have always ‘just known’ stuff such as my awareness yesterday of pushing and fixing energies.” I ponder with clarity. “But I have beaten myself up because I could not possibly know such things, and it was impossible to validate or explain how I knew them. So, throughout my life when I have perceived things, I always invalidated myself … just like I was probably invalidated when I tried to express such perceptions at home as a tiny child.”

“I have no physical memory of such childhood invalidation,” I further ponder, “yet when I meditate deep into inner child issues, I experience reservoirs of emotional pain regarding this invalidation – reservoirs that rise from somewhere deep inside … somewhere buried and hidden in my subconscious.”

But as I further ponder these issues, I realize how stuck I am, and how much I doubt my own perceptive memories – at least for right now. I recognize that I am increasingly playing out my God/separation drama with Keith – playing out my ego games of inability to trust and receive divine assistance, while projecting all of that drama and blame onto Keith.

Yes, I am playing out my God drama – the drama of the games I play with God – and I am doing it big time.

Lost And Frustrated

At 9:00 a.m. when I have still not received an email answer from Keith, I walk over to schedule a private appointment. I am getting lost in the craziness … in my self-doubt.

“I just responded to your email a minute ago.” Keith grins at me as he schedules me to come back at 1:00 p.m. for an individual session.

Keith has me read the response on his own computer before walking home. His email is actually beautifully written, filled with teaching and compassion … but part of me is so deeply confused and projecting that I still do not understand his logic. Even when I read the email a few times after returning home, I still feel lost and frustrated – so much so that I simply play computer games and eat popcorn before returning for my afternoon appointment.

Understanding Resistance

Keith’s email is filled with loving wisdom, but I do not fully understand until I re-read it during later integration, pondering, and writing. Keith explains that when talking about finding the energy of my “healed masculine self” he was essentially referring to finding the healed strength, support, and power within that the metaphor of a healed masculine self represents. He then goes on to share beautiful encouragement. Following is one paragraph that addresses my intense struggle and resistance to doing inner work on a non-rational-mind level.

“And again – as you are beginning to conference table work with your inner masculine and feminine – there is general recognition and encouragement to head on into these issues. And they do indeed point to the obstinate heels-dug-in resistance to doing inner work on levels other than rational. This is immensely frustrating – as I well know! – because it cannot be figured out… rationally. And yet you can go inside and sit with aspects-of-self and do productive work with them – and they are no more rational.”

I know Keith understands my obstinate heels-dug-in resistance, as he has often shared details of his own difficult journey.

Tired Of The Game

Then Keith explains the core of my God drama using a beautiful metaphor.

“I see you sitting with the end of a garden hose trying to get water to come out. The valve is on. There is water pressure. You wait and wait, try and try. And all you get is a dribble. It is a bit like that circular rope. You are going to sit there focused on the hose end where the problem is … until God proves he is real and loves you by fixing the flow … all the while pretending you do not know about the kink you put in the hose…”

“It’s a game. Play on! Till you are done. Till you get the compassion, acceptance, or self love you went there for. Until the frustration succeed-at-failure bait is no longer attractive. It is all about dropping the lie, getting out of the way, going in and finding kink after kink to the core kink … it is done through imagery that has emotional content (the Jungian language of the subconscious) … and you are good at it … and at the game. Notice where you are good at it and where you are so confused is seemingly arbitrary … and then you have caught self in the act and have the red flag waving in the breeze showing you where to dig … to kink follow … oh dear, the rational mind is not the tool…”

“And … in overview … you are doing very well indeed! Wander on over today if you wish. Stop off at a sweet lake view and ask the grand Lady of the Lake for some new fun. Tired of the old game?”

“How long have I been playing this old game?” I ponder. “And how long have I been projecting this game onto Keith? It seems more and more obvious that I have been doing this for a very long time.”

Something Has Shifted

As 1:00 p.m. rolls around, I find myself seated in a green camping chair on Keith’s porch. To my delight, Keith spends a great deal of time communicating with me at a rational-mind level, helping me to further understand his email from this morning – and helping me to understand recent events on the porch (fixing and pushing etc) as interpreted from his perspective.

Keith shares a new word with me: palliative. As we look it up in Keith’s dictionary, I learn that the word refers to fixing of symptoms – to things like calming, soothing, painkilling, sedative, etc… – to lessening the effects of an illness in ways that do not heal the underlying root cause.

Then Keith explains that fixing is palliative – and that some people need such assistance in order to give them a glimpse of what it feels like to be healed, so that maybe they can find the strength to make a new choice at an energetic level – one that will lead to true energetic healing.

“Yeah, yeah, I already understand all of that.” I express to Keith. “In fact, I am actually quite proud of myself that I could watch all of the fixing and pushing going on yesterday without being emotionally triggered by it …”

“Close your eyes, Brenda,” Keith interrupts me. “Now congratulate yourself for being in a totally new place. Something has shifted for you in a major way, and I want you to take note that rational mind cannot explain it.”

A Bizarre Turnaround

I love how Keith and I can frankly discuss my frustrations related to my God drama projections onto him. I have never been in a friendship where I could talk so bluntly about my interactions with someone else, where such a discussion was not extremely dangerous, without feeling as if I am walking on eggshells. After lovingly discussing such frustrations, we move on to new topics.

“I suddenly realized this morning that my childhood was the exact opposite of my God drama.” I excitedly blurt out to Keith. “I was a deeply intuitive/ creative/ right-brained/ connected child being raised in a world, culture, religion, and family that were very left brained and intellectual. I was literally an alien in a foreign reality. At first, I did not understand any of what they wanted to teach me … and I rebelled … desperately fighting for validation, understanding, wanting to be heard and accepted for who I was. Their logical woo-woo did not make sense to my tiny right-brain connections. I felt betrayed by God … not helped by God … abandoned by God … misunderstood and not validated by God, blah, blah, blah.”

“Now, I am stuck in the left-brained programming, doing the exact same blame-game as I attempt to reconnect to my right-brained creative and magical side.” I share with Keith. “It is quite the bizarre turnaround.”

Creative Insights

As with my last discussion with Keith, I love how he is spending the time to help calm me at a rational-mind level.

I have discussed this topic with Keith before, but today I take the opportunity to go deeper into verbal explorations of my rule-robot personality as a child.

“My own self-confidence was so shattered at such a young age,” I share with Keith, “that for as long as I can remember I have needed guidelines from outside of myself in order to feel safe and secure. I needed rules, detailed instructions, and recipes for everything that I did … otherwise I would be in utter panic of possibly being made-wrong by someone else – anyone else.”

“I have spent my whole life being micromanaged by the need for such outside guidance.” I continue. “I was a brilliant software engineer … but I would never stick my neck out in any creative way. I always needed a creative coworker to come up with the original ideas. If some one else told me what they wanted me to produce, I could do it better, faster, and more problem-free than most anyone around me … but I was paralyzed if someone asked me to stick my neck out by suggesting an abstract idea that was open to the possibility of criticism.”

“I know all of this is the reason that I struggle to let go of rules and logical recipes – why I struggle to re-connect with the right-brain world of imagination.” I share unfolding insights with Keith. “This is why a very frightened part of me insists that I need you/God to show me how to allow in the Higher Energies. The fact that there is no recipe terrifies this part of me.”

A Devastating Journey

Finally, at my request, Keith guides me into meditation.

“Go back in time as a Future Self to your own little child,” Keith guides me. “Go back to before he was shut down, before he lost all of the magic, the creativity, joy, spontaneity, connection to energies, perceptive abilities, and empath abilities, etc…”

“Invite your mother to be in the room, but not as part of the process.” Keith continues. “Now appear to that child as your Future Self, perhaps seeming like an angel to that child.”

“I’m feeling that this child is between one and two years old.” I share with Keith.

“As you share with that child,” Keith guides me deeper, “tell him that he has a mission to give up all of his creativity, joy, spontaneity, divine connection, etc … for safekeeping to your Higher Self … that gradually, in the next several years, he will need to give up this magic bit by bit. Tell him that after the two of you eventually heal all of the pain, that you can bring all the magic back when it is time to do so … unscathed in its original form. And tell him that it will be an extremely painful, lonely, and difficult journey.”

As I sink into this meditative journey, I begin to sob.

Worst Type Of Abuse

“Let the child do the crying,” Keith quickly guides me. “You be there as your present-day adult self.”

“But I feel so much pain as I do this,” I beg for clarity. “I cannot separate from that pain. I feel deep sorrow and sadness.”

“I feel like the worst type of child abuser as I do this.” I share with Keith a few minutes later while struggling to not identify with the anguishing emotions. “I feel so sad and weak. I am incapable of being a happy and supportive Future Self for him.”

“Can you please tell me that list of things that he has to give up again?” I beg Keith for assistance. “I have fallen into so much of my childhood confusion loop that I cannot remember all of what you guided me to do.”

Keith ignores my question as I quietly continue to meditate. I soon ask another question, and Keith continues to ignore me … not enabling my confusion.

One by one, I imagine myself telling my dear little child the precious things he has to give up … to give to our Higher Self for safekeeping. Repeatedly, as I do this, I cycle between crying and then trying to be strong.

Backwards Perceptions

Eventually, I manage to stabilize myself in a feeling of love while gradually filling with more divine light and love. Suddenly, new insights flash into my mind.

“My little child was not the sad one,” I excitedly blurt out to Keith. “He was not panicking or in deep sorrow. At that time in my life, my little child was still connected to those divine energies. He totally understood everything at a non-rational mind level – he knew exactly what we came here to do and why it was necessary to temporarily surrender our magic for safekeeping. He was actually excited to embrace this beautiful life mission.”

“It was only after giving up that magic, and living through the struggles, that I as the adult went back with a heart full of pain and projected that pain back onto my child.” I ponder aloud. “As usual, everything I thought I knew is totally backwards.”

“That child will be coming forward in time to help me locate and re-integrate those pushed out pieces that were lost.” I share my thoughts with Keith.

“They were not lost,” Keith reminds me. “Those parts of you are safe right there with your Higher Self.”

Subconscious Communications

“I have another meditation for you.” Keith soon guides me. “Give up part of your rational-mind resistance … just a little bit … whatever is ready to go today. Your Higher Self knows what part it is.”

After struggling with doubts, feeling quite stuck, not having any strong intuitions about what I am doing, I interrupt Keith.

“I feel like I am just making it up … like I’m just faking it till I make it.” I share my frustration with Keith.

“Good,” Keith congratulates me, “that is a perfect way to start.”

“The knowing will unfold with time,” Keith tells me. “The imagination is your means of communication with the subconscious mind.”

Keith quickly and patiently reminds me that using imagination is a very real tool, performing a very real job, actually engaging in real two-way communications with the subconscious mind through the method of symbols, images, and metaphors. He reassures me that I can communicate my intent to the subconscious by imagining things in my mind … and that I can receive real answers through the images and other types of energetic responses that return.

I have profoundly understood, for a very long time, that I receive symbols, images, and metaphors from the subconscious, and that I meditatively interact with emotional journeys in this way. But for some reason, I had never fully grasped the idea that I can initiate communication with the subconscious mind in the same powerful way. Today, the concept makes more sense than ever before.

Faking It Till I Make It

“Now release that part of your resistance that is doubting.” Keith guides me into the obvious, seeing how my doubts are what first stopped me in that resist-dance.

After spending a few minutes imagining the process of these doubts being released, Keith takes me deeper.

“Now find that book of rules and rip portions of it out,” Keith guides me. “Perhaps tear out a few pages or parts of all the pages … whatever works for you … whatever is ready to go today. This is all of the old programming that you are ready to let go of that holds you stuck in the left brain.”

Even though doubts continue to present themselves, I ignore those doubts, confidently going through the motions, imagining myself doing this – but feeling nothing at any other level.

“Now bring something back from the pushed out parts of yourself … the parts being kept by your Higher Self.” Keith guides me.

Again, I ignore my doubts and go through the meditative motions, but feel next to nothing, simply faking it till I make it, just trusting Keith.

Undeniable Validations

“Now do it again.” Keith takes me forward.

Suddenly I begin to feel deep emotions of panic, even terror, while simultaneously experiencing energetic agitations in my lower abdomen.

“Good,” Keith surprises me. “This is your way of knowing that what you are doing is very real. The emotional charge is very real … the fear and terror are very real. This tells you that the voice inside, the one that insists you are making all of this up, is a liar.”

“Release that voice to your Higher Self.” Keith quickly guides me.”

Again, I imagine this process.

“Now, release that fear to your Higher Self.” Keith continues.

I try to let go of the fear, but no matter how much I imagine the process, the fear remains, quite strong.

“If I do this and I still feel the fear, what do I do then?” I ask Keith for guidance.

“Express your intent, use your imagination to communicate with the subconscious, and trust that the fear is leaving.” Keith reassures me.

Finally, I mention to Keith that the energetic agitations that had surfaced when I first felt the fear have now grown weaker and moved upward into my solar plexus.

“Good,” Keith congratulates me. “The fear is released. Now rip out more pages … repeat the process.”

An Inner Child Relay

Soon, I get creative and invite little Sharon and Bobby to assist, making this journey into imagination, into communicating with the subconscious mind, a little more fun.

My dear little inner children, Bobby and Sharon, take turns. First, Sharon goes to the book of rules and rips out a page, following which Bobby goes to our Higher Self. As I imagine him returning with a piece of our pushed-out magic, I feel him holding a tiny silver heart-shaped container, which he then opens to release the magic back into us. Next Bobby rips out a page and Sharon returns with a small heart-shaped container.

As I visualize this scenario, I continue to not feel a great deal at an energetic level – as if I am making all of this up. Keith again confidently reassures me that I am giving real metaphorical guidance to my subconscious mind – telling it that I want my old programming to begin releasing and more of my magical being-ness to come back.

“With each trip,” Keith teaches me, “you are doing something very real in interactions with the subconscious.”

Keith reminds me that my sensitivities are still shut down, because my magic was slammed and invalidated as evil – because I was taught that imagination is silly and childish and could not possibly be real – and that this is where my resistance now comes from.

Communicating Intent

“Ask Sharon and Bobby to help you pick up that voice and take it over to an angelic garbage can and dump it in.” Keith guides me with a smile.

“Does that really work?” I ask with surprise.

“Yes,” Keith reassures me. “When you do this, you are metaphorically telling the subconscious that you no longer want that programming inside of you. Your rational mind does not need to know or have a clue how this all works … but your subconscious mind knows exactly what to do and how to do it … you just need to communicate your intent.”

“How do I tell if this voice is an energy that needs to be given a new job versus a density that needs to be released?” I ask a question that pops into my head.

“If it helps,” Keith gives a suggestion, “take the voice to Higher Self and say that you don’t need this voice any more, asking Higher Self to take care of it and to replace your original magical programming. Then you don’t need to know.”

Resonating Rational Reassurance

“You cannot get on the wrong bus,” Keith reminds me. “Whatever you do is perfect. It is communication with the subconscious. Trust it.”

Keith reassures me that the rational-mind knowing will come later – that if I miss something that needs to be done, that it will come back again – that if I feel emotions in a process, go ahead and feel them to the core and then bring in the light to transmute them – and that if I get lost in the emotions, stop before I get lost. If I am not at the bottom, then I can transmute what I was able to feel, and the rest will come up another time when I am able to remain more connected to the light.

I love this beautiful rational mind conversation. It resonates deeply in my heart and helps me let go of so many doubts and misunderstandings, giving me the confidence that just maybe I really can do this right-brained method of emotional release – even if I just have to fake it at first.

Play, Play, Play

For more than an hour, I quietly continue a meditation where Bobby and Sharon take turns ripping out pages and bringing out parts of my magic in a tiny silver heart-shaped container. At no time do I feel any strong earth-shattering changes … but something inside quietly whispers that this is indeed real.

But when I inadvertently sneeze, I experience several seconds of beautiful swirling energy in my heart. I love it.

Shortly before I leave for home, Keith gives me more beautiful guidance, emphasizing that this is a dynamic process, reassuring me that eventually my little children and/or Higher Self, or perhaps some other energy will begin to be more communicative with me, giving me guidance or intuitions, new twists and metaphors to follow.

“Trust the flow,” Keith advises me. “Be dynamic and not rigid. Use this as a starting base to work directly with the subconscious using imagination as a tool.”

“Trust this process,” Keith reassures me repeatedly. “You are learning to play with magic. You shut this down at a very young age. You knew it was real then, and that knowing will return to you as you work with it, as you believe and trust this process.”

As I hug Keith and prepare to walk home, he suggests that I just play with it for a half hour here and there … emphasizing the word play … play … PLAY.

Playfully Engaging

It has been an interesting two days – days of deep inner exploration – of exploring an inability to laugh – of repressed sadness and anger – of exploring pushing and fixing energies – and of realizing that I have indeed shifted in many ways that rational mind cannot explain. I am delighted that I continue to gain confidence in lovingly speaking my truth.

It seems that the God/separation drama is increasingly dominating my healing journey. My projections onto Keith are beginning to trouble me greatly – yet I always know that no matter how much I project, that I can go talk to him and find the peaceful closure and sanity that I seek.

And wow, did I ever receive profound guidance on how to work with the subconscious mind. I am anxious to begin playfully engaging these guidelines into a more trusting and dynamically flowing process.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Sleep, restful sleep. After a four hour nap and a few hours for dinner and a movie, I am finally able to relax, sleeping for another ten-and-a-half hours. Having survived two agonizing days of minimal sleep and non-stop emotional processing, I am blissfully blessed with the peaceful rest that I need.

But on Friday morning, February 10, 2012, I slip right back into emotional journeying – not in the intense release category, but in the soul-searching pondering realm.

A Costumed Facade

Inner guidance takes me back to a morning of watching Abraham videos. As I ponder and meditate over the messages, I sink and regress into childhood emotions.

I experience a sense of profound powerlessness – feeling that I (as a child) am an alien in an alien world – a world where I am not understood and not allowed to be myself. This childhood regression takes me right to that ‘damned if I do, damned if I don’t’ spot … if I am my true self, I am not understood or accepted. The only way to get the understanding and acceptance is to wear a mask, to be a fake self – but then I am still not understood, because what people are seeing is not really me.

Then I reflect back into my God/separation drama as I realize that it was the religious culture around me that coerced the people in my life to force me to present that fake costume – and that I literally saw my dilemma as being caused and endorsed by God.

Painful Dysfunctional Hooks

“I was an alien.” I ponder deeply. “I was powerless to be my true self … powerless to be genuinely loved. I know my parents loved me deeply, yet I felt as if that love was given to my fake self. A part of me absolutely knew that if my real self were exposed, all love would be withdrawn.”

A sense of anger surfaces in my soul – anger at the perceived injustice of my religious culture – anger at the energies of scrambled hypocrisy of those who distorted the unconditional love of the Universe into a conditional love used for controlling me, for molding me into who they wanted me to be, all in the name of God.

“I have distorted masculine energy deeply hooked as being equivalent to God, and to all who used God’s name to justify their distortions.” I ponder. “No wonder I have such an emotional trigger around anyone of the male persuasion who professes to be connected to Higher Energies, yet who simultaneously engages in distorted behaviors – no matter how innocent or blind their motives might be.”

The Venus Energy

In fact, as I ponder the first thirty years of my life, I realize that I was wearing a costumed façade whenever I was receiving love – that I was always putting my best foot forward – always pretending to be something I was not – always knowing that the love would not be there if my true self were known, if my magical and creative feminine sides were exposed to the light of day.

Even though I have since received considerable love as my true self, I continue to engage in these old dysfunctional patterns and projections – continuing to resist the very divine love that I crave.

Just prior to walking out toward Keith’s magical porch for a Friday afternoon chocolate ceremony, I pull another Tarot card. This time I pull “The Empress” card – one that represents the feminine creativity and sexuality – the healing of the Venus energy. I love this card – it represents these repressed inner feminine energies, many of which continue to be locked away in dark cages.

Love The Façade

As I embrace the glow meditation, I mostly focus on the energies in my lower chakras, attempting to send love and light to the still-dead and love-starved regions of my energy field. But as I do so, I note that my heart is not full – not radiating much light or love at all.

When Keith begins working with individuals, he turns to me first. I quickly explain my unfolding insights about why I have never been able to receive pure unconditional love – filling him in on my morning journey of meditative exploration.

“I was an unlovable alien,” I share my thoughts with Keith, “an alien whose external costume was loved – with conditions – but I never received love as the genuine me.”

“Stop right there, Brenda.” Keith interrupts. “I’m being guided to ask you to find love from the inside … and to send that love to that costumed façade self … send love to that part of you that put on the fake front.”

My Warrior Self

At first, this concept seems inconceivable and bizarre. I have always seen this part of me as a fake pretense – as a disgusting false self, a role that I hated, but had to play in order to survive in a world that would have otherwise rejected me.

“Brenda,” a friend who is deeply connected to my process interjects her beautiful advice, “think of that façade as your warrior self.”

“Wow,” I respond, “I like that. I have never thought of it that way. This façade-self actually saved my life. It kept me from being labeled as a misfit, from being committed to a psych ward or even having a lobotomy. Yes, it was my distorted masculine front, imitating the energy of my culture – but it was also the warrior side of me doing what I had to do to keep attention off of the genuine and then-vulnerable Brenda hiding underneath. That fake façade was not killing me, it was keeping me safe and out of sight from the persecutors who would kill me.”

“I love this warrior part of me – the part that did what it had to do to fit in so that I would be protected.” I thank my friend for the beautiful advice.

A Perceived Stage Play

Meanwhile, as Keith begins to work his way around the porch, I note with delight as Paul seems to have an entirely new persona in ceremony. I can only guess that Keith must have had a beautiful talk with him. Paul seems deeply interested in doing his own work, and requests feedback several times, on whether he is healing versus pushing etc…

As I watch Paul go into some of his own work, I am able to ignore all initial triggers, and instead begin to giggle silently. After Keith guides Paul to focus on a specific internal metaphor, Keith moves on to work with someone else. For the next half-hour I fight to hide my inner smile as I watch what I perceive as a recreated Muppet show as Paul unknowingly re-enacts my God drama in a very obvious (to me) and dramatic way.

In this humorously orchestrated stage play (this is my perception only) I observe as Kermit (being played by Paul) begins to act like a young boy frog who has no confidence whatsoever about how to proceed with his own work. Constantly, Kermit looks up, seeming to hope for some attention, and then closes his eyes in disappointment. He is wiggling and making loud yawning and sighing noises, wiggling some more, and making more dramatic noises. I have no idea what Kermit is actually doing, but in the stage play that I am perceiving, I see this as “me”, throughout much of my early life, unsuccessfully begging for the help and attention of God (played by Keith).

Lightly Laughing

The metaphor I see is profound. I see Kermit representing my young masculine side, showing me my history of being in denial while putting on a fake costume of perfection – showing me the fixer and rescuer parts of me that always got me in trouble – dramatically begging God (Keith) for attention … BUT feeling completely ignored by God.

As Keith moves on to work with others, Paul continues to burp and yawn very loudly. I am literally fighting back the unexpressed laughter – not laughter at Paul, but laughter at seeing the absurdity of “myself” shown to me in a mirror.

I also see this stage play as being me in my late twenties – a time when I begged God to cure me, to help me, to fix my horrible gender struggles.

When Keith eventually returns to work with me, I am lightly laughing at myself.

Inner Metaphors

After quickly explaining my inner journey, without making any outward reference to my perceived stage plays on the porch, I share with Keith new perceptions regarding my various inner energies.

“Great work on your new insights,” Keith congratulates me. “Now, start working with those inner masculine and feminine energies directly. Bring them into your inner conference room.”

As I begin to visualize these metaphorical parts of myself, I initially see both my masculine and feminine selves as real visuals, but then the image suddenly fades to no-longer-there cloudiness – as if a dark cloud is now making this meditative connecting impossible.

“This is good,” Keith surprises me with his reaction. “This cloudiness is part of your process.”

“What part of you is preventing you from seeing them, from working with them?” Keith queries.

“Ego.” I respond a few minutes later. “Ego is terrified that I will heal and is trying to prevent me from doing so.”

“Why doesn’t ego want you to heal?” Keith continues leading me.

“Because this part of me is terrified of having to be powerful,” I respond, “terrified of having no excuses and nothing to blame for my failures. It is afraid of healing and having to embrace the light.”

Living In The Heart

After Keith moves on, I continue working with these inner masculine and feminine energies. Finally, I realize that these energies are not in my heart, but are still stuffed in my solar plexus – with the masculine on the right and the feminine on the left. Each is near the other, but is in his or her own curtained-off room.

They seem to be terrified of being face-to-face in each other’s presence – like being around an old friendship that went painfully sour. In fact, each despises the other in a way that continues to feel as intense as a lifelong feud between hated enemies.

Following a hunch, I imagine that the curtain between them has a place where they can place their hand for the other to see. As the feminine energy places her hand under the curtain, the masculine attempts to touch it – but then I feel him recoil with terror, in deep unhealed fear. I had no idea that the masculine side of me remains so terrified of the feminine.

Both masculine and feminine just want to feel loved, to be understood, to be validated … both know this about the other … both know that we are one, part of the same being … but yet neither will speak to the other.

After continued meditation, however, I do reach a minor peace accord. Both agree to live in my heart (male on right, female on left), and both agree in their willingness to work directly with my heart.

Remembered Guidance

As I play with these metaphorical, but very real energies, I as the observer take on the role of being the waking-up empath that I am. I ask them to release what unhealed emotions they are able, releasing them to me. I then ask an imagined Higher Being in front of me to take the emotional densities and send them to their higher evolvement.

This process does not seem to be working so I further surrender and allow guidance to filter through me. Soon, I feel inspired to simply ask each energy to work directly with my heart, without my conscious participation – and to allow my heart to be their personal counselor and healer.

As I engage in this process, I recall guidance that Keith had given to me yesterday – guidance I had completely forgotten. As I sat in a long healing conversation in his garden, Keith had given me homework to connect with three energies inside of me – the perpetrator energy, the victim energy, and the rescuer energy – letting me know that finding each of these three elements inside of me is an important step in the healing that I am working on.

Perpetrators, Victims, And Rescuers

“Obviously,” I think to myself, “At one time or another in my life, both my masculine and feminine energies have powerfully perpetrated against each other. And right now, each of them continues to feel viciously victimized by the other. But just who is that evasive rescuer energy?”

It makes sense that my own beautiful and powerful heart is the rescuer, but I resist this association, because to me, in the world of psychology, the term “rescuer” has a deeply negative and dysfunctional connotation – and I do not wish to associate any dysfunctional or enabling role to my heart.

“Keith,” I ask for guidance during an appropriate pause, “I’m seeing my heart as this rescuer energy – but I’m confused by what I perceive as negative implications of this word. Can you please clarify?”

Keith quickly explains that he is using the word “rescuer” from a totally positive polarity – as meaning the energy inside of me that would, in a healthy way, give a hand-up to, and assist in healing the other wounded energies.

A Healing Heart

I have now identified all three energies – and it seems that both the masculine and feminine energies are somewhat willing to be assisted by my heart – in healing both their perpetrator and victimized aspects. In fact, at this point, I believe that my own heart is about the only source of healing that these energies might trust.

As I begin to meditate deeper into these energies, I start to feel pain on the right side of my heart chakra – on the masculine side.

“Heart, will you provide whatever loving and healing support is needed?” I ask my own heart before stepping aside, keeping my head out of the process.

As I sit and observe my feelings, I soon realize that my heart is not very energized right now – that it is in fact feeling quite drained and weak. Dropping everything else, I focus on bringing in light and love to my own heart. As I do so, I begin to feel myself open and ground beautifully in the energies. Once my energy is strongly balanced, I begin to feel unknown energetic sensations flowing inside my chest, moving back and forth between the masculine and feminine sides – two parts of me that still refuse to meet face to face.

Slow And Unsure

“Keith,” I soon interrupt my process, “I am feeling a deep intuitive desire to help work with Chris (a person seated by me – not his/her real name – keeping identity secret), but I don’t want to abandon my own process. Can you give me any suggestions on what to do?”

“Your masculine and feminine energies will be just fine, working on their own while you assist Chris.” Keith reassures me after checking his own guidance. “I think helping Chris would be very good for your process.”

I start out quite slow and unsure of myself, simply sharing energy and holding space while speaking the occasional comment that seems to come through me. Once in a while, I touch my fingers to the center of Chris’s heart chakra, or share energy with his/her throat or third-eye chakras. I move my hands lightly where I feel guided, and move on when intuitions seem to tell me to do so.

Finally, I synchronize breathing with my friend, and begin to make light ohm-ing sounds with my voice as Chris teeters on the edge of what feels to me like angry emotions. I have the feeling that this anger needs to be accessed and pushed out in a vocal way.

“Please, let me know anytime you want me to stop.” I ask my friend to be honest. I do not want to push.

Profound Release

After an extended period where Chris seems to just sit on the edge of the emotion, I feel guided to do something.

“Chris,” I confidently suggest while holding a hand in front of Chris’s belly, “just give me a few drops of this anger.”

As Chris does so, surrendering to the release, he/she explodes in deep tears. I am pleased to sense an energy surge in my hand as the release takes place. Chris cycles in and out, engaging in many strong waves of powerful emotional and verbal release. Finally, Keith comes over to join in, mostly just supporting what I am already doing.

As the process nears completion, both Keith and I guide Chris into asking for light and love to fill the empty spaces that were just cleared.

For much of the next hour, I simply sit and hold deep loving space for Chris. I love how faint energy sensations are occasionally starting to register in my hands … and how simply following intuitions – intuitions that feel somewhat silly – is bringing such profound results.

Baby Steps

“Brenda, you did amazing work today,” Keith congratulates me after the ceremony. “You are increasingly working with the light and making good progress with your inner masculine and feminine selves. It is really powerful when you heal these two aspects of yourself.”

“I’m just taking baby steps,” I giggle back to Keith, feeling deeply grateful for his encouragement.

“These are HUGE steps, not baby steps.” Keith responds with confidence.

After a delightful evening, sharing conversation with a friend while enjoying food at a nearby restaurant, I sleep like a baby, trusting that all is well. I congratulate myself, being quite proud for how I was not triggered by Paul, but instead used his beautiful behavior as a catalyst to launch me into a deeper journey with my inner masculine and feminine energies – and for how I was able build more self-trust by following intuitive guidance to assist in the profound release process of a friend.

Sparrow Reminders

Saturday, I resume my nightmare journey. But this time I am not experiencing it personally as triggers and projections, but am instead writing about what I then perceived as a nightmarish journey that began on the first Thursday of January, 2012.

As I am deeply immersed in the painful emotions of that difficult writing journey, my tiny sparrow friend comes to pay me a delightful visit – as if he is here to cheer me up – to remind me to not get too bogged down in my emotional writing – to remind me that it is time to fly … time to defy gravity.

I glance quickly at the time on my computer. It is 3:42 p.m. as my little friend begins to zoom around my kitchen. After flying around briefly from one door top to another, he then flutters his wings goodbye and disappears back out my patio door.

Late Saturday evening, when I finally hit the publish button, I breathe a huge sigh of relief. I made it through part one.

A Radiating Heart

Sunday afternoon, February 12, I find myself right back in another beautiful chocolate ceremony – one attended by nearly twenty people. It is an unusually intense ceremony – one filled with profound and powerful emotional release that ignites very early in the glow meditation. There is so much suppressed emotion simultaneously exploding in several people all at once, that Keith could not possibly address it all by himself.

“Get busy and help others.” My heart lovingly-but-loudly directs. “You can do your own work later.”

I find myself feeling quite comfortable as I help one man access deep sadness and tears while he sinks into agonizing emotional release stemming from childhood pains. I glow with delight as I assist in similar processes with others. Fully recognizing that I am merely channeling energy and following the flow, my heart sings with joy and gratitude for the opportunity to assist in such a powerful and magical way.

As Keith himself moves around the porch, working with others, he takes a moment to acknowledge what I am doing, and to congratulate me for the energy I am in today. This makes me glow even more.

Fear Of Opening

A couple hours later, when things have considerably settled down, Keith begins to lay the verbal framework for an empath training.

“Am I going to cry during the second phase again?” I ask Keith.

I am hoping for insights and guidance about the fact that the more I begin to bring in trickles of divine unconditional love, the more terrified and emotional I seem to be getting during every empath training. Keith acknowledges my concern, and reminds me that I need to trust the flow of my process. It seems that a hidden part of me is increasingly frightened that the more I open up my empath awareness – the more I will uncontrollably consume and be overwhelmed by unbearable pain that I cannot handle.

As phase one of the training proceeds, I begin to experience the usual fear and agitation in my solar plexus as we each ask a Higher Being with whom we have worked since before this lifetime, to begin generating emotional density and sending it to us. The purpose of this first exercise is for empaths to gain further insight and understanding in how we have “eaten” the emotional densities of others throughout our lives. In my case, the most painful place where I store such outside emotions is in my abdomen.

I disengage from this initial first phase long before Keith tells the rest of the group that it is over. I am filled with so much pain and fear that I cannot handle any more, even if it is being done at the enlightened level, and can be disappeared at any moment.

Eating Times One-Hundred

During phase two, where our Higher Being friend generates ten times the emotional density that we have ever experienced, we are instructed to intend for the energy to still come into our body – but that it will run through us like a river and never touch us.

As I visualize this process, I feel a slight trickling energy flow running from my forehead down to my abdomen (this is all I will allow myself to feel). But rather than feeling like this density is moving through me and out, taking part of my own stuff with it, I instead feel as if the pain in my solar plexus is increasing.

During phase three, where one-hundred times the density is generated, but where it never even enters our body, I am surprised to feel the pains in my solar plexus gradually grow stronger still.

As this final phase ends, my abdomen is swollen, hard, and extremely painful. I feel like rather than running this density through me, I have eaten every bite, and it is causing painful indigestion.

“Keith,” I beg for assistance. “Is it possible that I brought all of this density inside of me and stuffed it in my abdomen, even though we were just learning and asking it not to come inside?”

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith responds after checking his guidance. “That is exactly what you did.”

Exactly Why

Keith surprises me by what he does next.

“I want everyone that just did the training to now connect with Brenda and assist her in letting go of what she just took in.” Keith makes a request to the whole porch.

As the process unfolds, I am stuck in my head. I feel as if some density is being released, but it is very slow, and a hidden part of me is still not allowing me to be very sensitive to the flow of energies. In fact, I intuitively know that a subconscious part of me is clinging to this new painful density, refusing to let go of it, somehow believing it is my duty to store it.

“This is exactly why I shut down my energy gifts in the first place,” I ponder while the group continues to assist me. “The part of me that refuses to open is terrified that I will bring in more of this stuck pain – terrified that I will be fried by it – terrified that I will be helpless to move it out of me. That is exactly why I am still shut down … and what I am doing right now is gradually building trust in the opening process.”

Lost In Doubt

I begin to cry lightly as the group continues to assist.

“Go into it, Brenda.” Keith encourages me to let the emotions come up.

I cry a little, but not extensively. Another part of me refuses to cry, insisting I have to be stronger and just allow the density to leave.

Doubts begin to consume me. I feel as if I am starting to make some progress, but I want feedback and reassurance of what I am doing. Keith gives such feedback to others all the time, but he is forcing me to find my own inner feedback. I want validation. I want feedback.

I am not yet aware of it, but it seems that I am sinking into a common ego loop – one where I get lost in my doubt.

Impatient And Pushing

Keith quickly moves on to work with someone else, while most of the group continues to work with me.

Soon, I feel an inner obsession with the blocked energy at the nail-in-my-heart spot. I know that this region is connected somehow to my inability to reconnect with my inner power flow. Finally, I begin to push the river as I imagine myself using my will to try to pull the energy from the Mother Earth, up through my lower chakras and into my heart.

But I soon get out of the way when I overhear Keith reminding someone else to simply intend and then allow. As I surrender, I begin to feel some energy flow rising up my spine on the back side of my abdomen, ending just below my heart.

But I am impatient. I want more flow. I am tired of this stubborn blockage. I begin using my hands to sweep the energy up on the outside of my body, trying to encourage and force it to flow, desperately trying to ‘fake it till I make it’ – to imagine an open energy channel flowing between my solar plexus and heart.

Later in the evening after Sunday’s defying gravity experience, I had clearly felt a solid flow of energy between my solar plexus and heart – a flow that lasted for perhaps an hour. I want it back, and I do not want to wait any longer. I want to force this … I want to make it happen now … I am tired of being blocked and shut down.

Vibrating For Power

Finally, I realize that I have been working with a metaphor of being “powerless” for nearly a year – and I also realize that accessing anger is a profound way to overthrow powerlessness – whatever its source.

But not wanting to simply scream and punch pillows, I begin to use my voice. I have learned that my ability to speak my truth was shut down at a very young age – and that when I make “ohming” or deep vibrational toning sounds with my throat, it often triggers that suppressed anger – anger at not having been able to fully express my self and my magic.

I begin to make vibrating ohm-like noises while attempting to make them at such a deep level that I can also feel the vibrations in my heart and solar plexus.

Gradually, as I do this, tears of emotion begin to flow. Those tears begin to pour out of me in increasing waves.

Waves Of Release

Soon, I notice that a small group of people have gathered closely around me to offer loving support – the same type of space-holding support I had given to several of them earlier. I continue to breathe deeply into my solar plexus, while sounding deep vibrating tones through my throat.

It does not take long before a few waves of sobs consume me, accompanied by a sensation that is now becoming quite common – one I have been calling dry heaves. It is hard to explain, but feels as if I am literally being involuntarily forced to go through a vomiting motion – but as I do so, only energy comes out. I often feel that energy actually leaving from various spots in my chest or abdomen when this happens.

I go through waves of this release, cycling between tears, sobs, coughs, and dry heaves – back and forth, up and down, with all of the empty spaces being filled with vibrational tones in my throat. I am trying to do this the easy way – trying to move energy through the powerful vibrations themselves.

Green Light Of Encouragement

“Take that sound deeper inside.” Keith suggests as he moves closer to participate in my process. “Access your inner masculine power.”

I am not sure what Keith means, and I am too into the emotion to stop for questions, so I simply lower my vocal tones more toward the masculine direction, attempting to feel the vibrations deeper in my body.

“Breathe, Brenda.” Keith reminds me several times when I am holding my breath.

I am trying to breathe slowly and consistently, doing so from the power center of my solar plexus … but when the release gets intense, I often find myself no longer breathing. I want this blockage out. I do not know how to do it. All I can think of is to allow the emotions to get stronger, to vibrate and tone louder – and based on how Keith is supporting me, I seem to have a green light of encouragement to do so.

Ousting With Anger

Soon, a beautiful young woman sits in front of me and takes my hands. I have given up on trying to do things myself, and I completely surrender to the love she offers, no longer resisting anything. Several others join in and begin to ohm and make vocal tones right along with me, supporting me with their power, making it easier for me to raise the power of my own vocal intensity without feeling so obvious.

“Get angry at this blockage.” Keith calls out to me.

I had been holding back because the ‘proper’ part of me is still trying to not scream and yell out the anger, but Keith’s words seem to unleash the floodgates of my resist-dance.

Suddenly, I allow myself to let out several curdling screams, followed by several very loudly yelled choice phases such as “F@ck you blockages!!!” … “Get the F@ck out of me!!!!” … “I hate you … I hate you … I hate you … Get out of me … I’m sick of you … I don’t want you anymore.”

Between these verbal expressions, I often collapse into more sobs and dry heaves. I am shocked by the intensity of my release. In the background, I hear several other people cutting loose with their own angry release and tearful sobs. But I do not stop to find out what is going on. Intuitively I know that whatever they are doing – that my work has given them permission to go into their own work – and I simply focus on what I need to do.

Puzzled, Confused, And Unsure

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the angry emotions dry up, the sobs and dry heaves turn to wet cheeks, and the piles of tissue stop growing. I continue to breathe deeply from my solar plexus, while still emitting vibrating tones through my throat, but I do not feel as if I am making any progress at all – I still feel as stuck as ever.

I have many people gathered around me, all of them very sensitive to the energies, and all of them attempting to help me at the same time.

“Grab the blockage with your hands and pull it out.” Keith guides me.

I repeatedly place my hands over various places, including the nail-in-my-heart spot, my solar plexus, and my second chakra – each time using all of the energetic will I can muster and imagining myself pulling the energy out of those tightly stuck places.

As I work on the center of my heart, one man who seems energetically connected to what I am doing says, “Yeah, now you’re getting it.”

“There is a block at the back of your heart chakra.” Another sensitive woman tells me. “Allow the love to help you with it.”

Paul then calls out with his own advice, about using my inner masculine power to assist.

“At Keith’s request,” another woman comes over and places her hand on my high-heart region.

“Brenda,” Keith surprises me, “she is showing you where that masculine power is at.”

I’m hearing and accepting and attempting to do everything anyone suggests, not rejecting any of the help, but am becoming deeply puzzled, confused, and unsure about what I am doing.

“Congratulations for moving the energy on the back of your heart.” I overhear a woman whisper to me from behind.

Compassion, Understanding, And Wisdom

“Part of the blockage was successfully released, but there is more for another day.” Keith eventually reassures me after the powerful process quiets down.

“I want it all out now.” I respond, still feeling some anger at the blockage.

I try to push some more energy out of me. I do not want to wait. I hate this block. I am sick of it. I want to move it now.

“You have done enough for today.” Keith again lovingly reassures me. “It is best not to push.”

Even though I do not want to hear them, I feel the deep compassion, understanding, and wisdom in Keith’s loving words.

Inner Videos

“Brenda,” Keith soon guides me into meditation. “Close your eyes and connect to that blockage energy. What does it want from you?”

“It is terrified of opening too much too fast.” I respond to Keith while not being totally sure if I really trust what I am saying.

“This is a part of you that you put in charge of keeping you safe.” Keith again guides me. “Connect to it in that inner conference room and find out what it needs.”

“It needs time to build trust.” I respond, still tentative about whether I trust what I feel.

“Is that part of you willing to connect with your Higher Self and to watch one of those inner videos about the beautiful work you are all doing, and to consider taking on a new job?”

Keith is referring to a meditation he taught me late last spring – one where I invite resistant energies to gather in my inner conference room, after which I ask my Higher Self to show them a metaphorical video with details of all of the beautiful work that we have been doing together. Technically, the video could be very long, but in meditation, the process can be done in seconds, simply by expressing intent. It is a process that seems to be quite effective in building inner trust between various energetic aspects of myself.

“Yeah, I think so.” I respond to Keith’s former question.

A Scamming Job

“Work with that for a while,” Keith guides me.

A few minutes later, I tell Keith I am feeling a sharp pain in the back of my heart chakra, right along the spine.

“Connect with it.” Keith encourages me. “What does it want?”

“It is resistance to allowing in more love.” I respond from sheer metaphorical instinct. “It is terrified of going too fast … terrified that more love will fry us.”

“Wait,” I interrupt Keith before he speaks. “That doesn’t feel right. Am I scamming myself?”

“Yes,” Keith responds.

“This is ego, isn’t it?” I ask Keith for feedback.

“Yes,” Keith grins back at me, “but you don’t need me to tell you that.”

“Hmmm,” I think out loud. “Ego wants me to resist bringing in more love … imagine that … ego is afraid that love will cause him to lose his job of scamming me.”

Find It Inside

As I begin to focus on bringing in love, empowering my heart with this much-needed divine energy, Keith interrupts me.

“Look in her eyes,” Keith points to a woman to my left – the woman who is still holding my hands.

“That is what you need.” Keith tells me. “You will find it in her eyes.”

As I stare into the glowing soul of this beautiful young woman, I find pure unconditional love and compassion. Gradually, I begin to fill with beautiful energy as I stare into her eyes, as I imagine allowing a channel of divine love to flow through her and into me.

“Now Brenda,” Keith eventually interrupts, “close your eyes and find that same energy inside of yourself … inside of your own heart. Give it to yourself. That is what you need right now.”

As I follow Keith’s guidance, I soon find that same feeling of unconditional love radiating from visualized inner eyes – the eyes of my heart. I sit and bask in this beautiful energy, while focus on the porch drifts to others who are now deep in their own processes of emotional release.

Powerful Peaceful Vibrations

I sit alone in this beautiful energy for a very long time, slightly shocked and confused by what just happened – while at the same time knowing that I did powerful work.

Head chatter is buzzing all over, wanting to figure out what just happened – chatter telling me that I need to do more – that I need to DO something else. But my heart continues to glow, peacefully resonating a feeling of “JUST BE”.

After pleasurably basking in this stunned silence for a very long time, I eventually return to my familiar pillows by Keith’s kitchen door, deeply in my own process, completely disconnected from everything around me.

As Keith finishes working with one young woman who has been accessing her own deep painful tears, he asks her to use her power to come over and place her hand on my heart.

To my delight, she places her hand directly over that nail-in-my-heart spot – the same spot where I now sense a metaphorical screwdriver of fixing energy. As she works on me, I gradually feel beautiful energy flowing from her as it fills my entire heart, high-heart and throat chakras with powerful, peaceful vibrations.

Powerful Hearts

Soon, Keith tells the young woman that she needs to move this energy out of her as part of her own process – and that she can do this by sharing it with others as she is now doing with me, helping me through fun power – or she can move the energy through tears.

“Which way do you want to do it?” Keith asks the woman.

I intuitively know Keith is talking to me too – that sharing loving energy with others always helps me in my own process – yet I resist, because I continue to face the dilemma that when I am in such deep painful emotional states, I find it almost impossible to access my loving magical connections – the very higher-energy connections that could help me if I shared them more.

Eventually, the young woman removes her powerful hand from my heart, and I lean back against the wall, amazingly peaceful and relaxed.

“Wow,” she later tells me, “what a powerful heart you have. When I worked with you, I could feel your heart radiating all around me, powerfully surrounding me with profound love.”

“It was the touch of your amazing powerful love that helped me to reenergize my heart.” I respond back to her. “I am just your mirror.”

The Understanding Will Come

As I prepare to walk home at the conclusion of this amazing emotion-packed ceremony, I ask Keith if he can share with me any words that might help me figure out how to write about what happened today.

“You don’t need to understand.” Keith responds with a grin. “The head is the last to understand. That will come in time. Just go home and integrate.”

To top off a beautiful evening, I spend a couple of hours sharing desserts at a local restaurant while visiting with my dear friend Tina who is flying out tomorrow on the first leg of her trip home to India – the same friend who recently used my home to host a delightful dinner party.

I am going to miss her. She has been a fabulous neighbor.

Surviving Nightmares

Late Monday afternoon, as I work on Part two of “My Worst Nightmare”, my dear little sparrow friend returns at 4:06 p.m.. As he flies around my kitchen, landing here and there while searching for crumbs, I am again magically reminded not to let my difficult writing suck me back into past emotional nightmares – to remember to keep myself light – to fill with that healing light – and to allow myself to spread my wings and fly while I write.

Tuesday, Valentines Day, as I finish the third and final installment of that “My Worst Nightmare” series, no little sparrows are necessary on this celebrated day of magical love. My heart overflows with this love.

I survived those painful nightmares in early January, and I again survived the grueling process or writing about them.

And now, after riding a beautiful rollercoaster ride of ups and downs over the last five days, I have survived another mini-nightmare while courageously facing one of the deepest and most difficult emotional release processes I have ever experienced.

I can only trust Keith when he tells me that portions of that inner blockage did indeed leave me on that crazy Sunday before Valentines Day. But no trust is needed as I remember the profound power of the love that later filled me. What a perfect day to begin taking in even deeper new dimensions of divine love, further healing my heart, and learning to allow that heart (and the love it contains) to become my healer and teacher.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Agitated energy consumes my lower chakras, so much so, that I cannot sleep. Finally, around 2:30 a.m., I slip out into the living room and curl up on my daybed, hoping that a change of scenery will help in the relaxation process. While I am finally able to get some rest, the uneasy energy continues to flow.

As I finally surrender to morning daylight, I spend several hours of continued energetic agitation – with mild, restless energy flowing from the lower second chakra, right up the middle, ending at that nail-in-my-heart spot. My right eye is blurry and I cannot focus my attention on much of anything for more than three seconds.

Intuitively, I know that all of this crazy energy is in some strange way preparing me for today’s chocolate ceremony – but I cannot imagine what it might be. It is Wednesday, February 8, 2012, slightly before noon.

Teasing Tarot

As I prepare to walk out to Keith’s humble home, I feel a desire to pull three Tarot cards.

The first is “The Lovers” card which I take as reminding me that it is time to allow in the love – to work with higher energies in allowing more unconditional love into my life.

The second card is the “Ace of Cups” which I feel is letting me know that I am working with core emotional issues at my very root.

And the third card is the “Eight of Swords” – a card in the mental suit – one that today seems to tell me that certain elements of my mind are blindfolded – things about which I am not aware, but which might be on their way into my awareness.

Growing Nausea

“What are you ready for today?” Keith unexpectedly turns to me before he prepares to guide the group through a glow meditation.

I quickly explain my crazy agitated energy, and my confusion regarding whether it might be density or perhaps something that wants to open.

“Just sit in the confusion and observe.” Keith encourages me to go deeper.

As the glow meditation proceeds, my stuck-ness seems to grow ever stronger. I attempt to find the inner smile in my heart while inviting loving energies to fill my being. I feel some love … but not much. Mostly, I remain stuck and clueless.

Intuitively, I feel as if something wants to open, but the agitation in my abdomen is now shifting into growing nausea. This whole experience is uncanny, reminding me of something I wrote about just yesterday – about a day when I literally wanted to vomit out my yucky resistance. (See blog “A Subconscious Book Of Beliefs” published Feb 7, 2012).

An Inner Relationship

When Keith begins his round of individual assistance, he turns to me first. I quickly share unfolding insights about the Tarot cards I pulled this morning.

“Take a slightly different twist.” Keith suggests regarding the ‘Lovers’ card. “Focus on the inner masculine and feminine energies … ask them to join you in your inner conference room … find out how they feel about each other.”

I am stuck in doubt, not trusting my abilities, unable to feel a connection with these aspects of myself, and unable to visualize or imagine anything. I get lost in the inner chatter, trying to figure out if I should be imagining adult energies … or perhaps my masculine and feminine energies as a teen, or a child etc…

“Why don’t you work with present day energies,” Keith guides me after I express my confusion. “Don’t worry about how they present themselves, just put out the intention to connect.”

A Writing Nightmare

After Keith moves on to work with others, I get lost in a swamp of projection.

Oh, how I hate trying to write about things that simply cannot be written about without potentially creating more problems … but write I must, because this is deeply about my process.

As usual, Paul is involved in agonizingly triggering me – and this time I DO take the bait.

Suffice it to say that Paul is a well-intentioned and innocent little boy, but he is also a grown man with hormones, and I perceive him as being clueless as to how those hormones sometimes cross-the-line and subtly interfere in the way in which he engages some women in healing interactions.

I want to also add that I was raised in a very conservative religious environment, where issues of sexuality that may be perfectly innocent and normal for some people, continue to deeply trigger my profoundly entrenched conditioning. I am attempting to let go of the dysfunctional aspects of such conditioning – but in a healing environment, especially for me having been trained in counseling ethics, I have no room to tolerate what I perceive as sexually predatory behavior, no matter how innocently or unconsciously it may be performed by the one doing it.

I also want to add a very strong caveat here. I fully recognize everything that is taking place on the porch as my creation … as being a stage play to point out my inner dysfunctions and to help me heal them.

Refusal To Comply

I begin to feel deep judgmental disgust as I observe Paul do some energy work on one beautiful young woman’s feet before then placing her feet on his lap. For an extended period, Paul seems to be deriving great pleasure from sharing her energy, in a way that literally makes me want to both vomit and scream at the same time. I will spare the details.

I desperately wait for a moment to capture Keith’s attention. Finally, he glances my way and I attempt to use hand signals and mouthed-words to express my concern. Keith glances toward Paul and then continues what he was doing without taking any action. I do not know if Keith even notices my concern, or if perhaps he is simply guided to ignore it for now.

Then Paul proceeds to do five or ten minutes of lower abdominal massage on the woman, working vigorously with her lower chakra energies. Keith has repeatedly asked him not to touch anyone in these places – not because it is necessarily wrong to do so, but because you never know when you might be working on someone who has been sexually abused, and when touching them there might re-traumatize them.

Paul has repeatedly fought Keith’s rules about appropriate versus inappropriate touching, and today, he ignores Keith’s former guidance in what I perceive as a blatant refusal to comply – not just doing so once, but repeatedly on several people.

Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!

I am triggered into deep anger – anger that I bottle up inside – anger at my perceptions of Paul’s distorted masculine energy manipulation of this woman (and others) – anger at how Paul is ignoring Keith’s repeated guidance in such behavior – and even stronger-but-repressed anger at Keith for doing nothing about it.

I am also increasingly angry at how Paul, on the porch today, is constantly interrupting Keith in the middle of other people’s processes, trying to insert his own expert guidance. The story I create in my own head is that Paul does not believe Keith is doing a good enough job, and that he feels obsessed with showing and telling Keith a better way to work with people. Keith simply smiles, lets Paul do his thing, and then returns to working as he was before.

I literally see Paul as believing that he is here to save the porch from Keith’s inadequacies. Paul’s behavior is driving me crazy. Aaaarrrrgggghhhh!

Painfully Projected Distortions

Meanwhile, I still cannot feel my own inner energies. The nausea in my abdomen seems to be painfully projecting my distorted inner reality outwardly, creating a stage play in front of me – a created reality that I find intolerable.

Finally, I feel so sick that I step into the bathroom, lock the door, and spend twenty minutes attempting to vomit the yucky energy out of my stomach. But I have no luck, no success in the purging department. What I am going through is not physical. As I kneel on that hard, cold, concrete floor, I just cry and cough.

Finally, I return to my seat and pull a blanket over my head … observing myself … listening … projecting.

I had perceived (and overheard) that while I was in the bathroom attempting to vomit, Paul had been crying on the porch. Regardless of why he may or may not be crying, I perceived his tears as fake vulnerability – as a perfectly timed attempt to take the attention away from my emotional struggles. But now that I am back on the porch, hiding under a blanket, he is all cheerful again.

“Why am I creating such a crazy and painful projection loop?” I ponder with fright.

Clockwork Disruptions

Finally, after Keith begins to do some deep inner work with me – just seconds after beginning a deep emotional release – Paul jumps up, grabs a large bottle of chocolate out of the kitchen, and creates a major disturbance while he runs around on the porch and pushes extra chocolate on people.

“It is just like clockwork.” I mention to Keith. “The moment I begin to go into my own deep inner work, he suddenly interrupts … as if he is doing it intentionally … on purpose.”

Keith disconnects from me during this disturbance and works with someone else. Finally, when the porch quiets down again, Keith returns back to work with me by guiding me deeper into the journey with my inner masculine and inner feminine energies.

“Sit with those energies in your conference room.” Keith takes me into a familiar meditative metaphor. “Your masculine energy is on your right. What does he look like?”

A Painful Image

“I don’t see the masculine energy as a visual,” I begin to explain to Keith, “but I sense a very strong representative image, and I really do not want to describe it out loud.”

With my fingers under a blanket, I then lift the corner of the blanket in such a way that only Keith and one other person can see that I am pointing at Paul.

I am projecting disgust all over Paul. Right now, he is my perfect projected model of what I hate about distorted masculine energy – what I hate about my own inner masculine energy. He is distracting, controlling, filled with ego, demanding attention, acting like the cool healer – yet not doing his own inner work, pretending to be vulnerable at what seem like very calculated times. Overall, I see my inner masculine energy (projected at Paul) as being a dense asshole jerk.

As if on cue, several times during deep emotional points of my attempted work with Keith, Paul blasts out loud spontaneous emotional sounds of his own – something he often does when he is accessing his own inner world.

An Unsolvable Dilemma

“I am literally living a nightmare.” I exclaim to Keith. “I KNOW I am projecting this distortion and creating it physically in my reality … I hate it … and I feel powerless to do anything about it.”

What I cannot express in group is that I am blaming Keith for allowing this external reality to continue … for seeming to encourage what is taking place … for seeming to take delight in making me a victim of it.

It is obvious that I am deeply embedded in my God/separation drama … deeply blaming God for all of my problems, not wanting to take responsibility for how I am feeling victimized by my own creations, and I am finding it increasingly obvious that I am projecting that God drama all over Keith.

I am literally at the bottom of that metaphorical wall of glass that Keith often uses as an example … standing in front of wall of glass five meters high … knowing that everything I want lies on the other side of that glass wall, but also knowing that I am powerless to climb the wall. It is an unsolvable dilemma.

The Divine Masculine

“You cannot do this yourself.” Keith responds when I express how stuck I am.

“But how?” I ask with desperation.

“You need to allow that divine masculine energy … the energy that you hate and are projecting all over … to come in and help you heal it.” Keith gives me an answer that I do not want to hear.

Keith works with me for at least twenty minutes, with Paul repeatedly interrupting and distracting during portions of that time. I want to do real work, I want to access my anger, but I feel incapable of doing much of anything with the object of my projections sitting noisily just a few feet away.

“Do I need to access this anger in order to throw off this distortion?” I beg Keith for answers.

Playing The Game

Keith quickly reminds me that I am deeply immersed in my God/separation drama, reminding me how a part of me believes that the only way to receive assistance from God is if I am so pathetically lost that God will feel sorry for me and finally step in to help.

“This is your game, Brenda.” Keith speaks bluntly. “It is the game you are playing with God … and playing with these energies … etc… It doesn’t change until you own the game and end the game … and that comes from ‘Know Thyself’.”

“But how do I access that anger to overthrow this game.” I beg for clarity. “It is a nightmare … I am tired of creating it … it is destroying my ability to enjoy life … it is horrible … I want it to stop but I can’t do it … and I don’t know how to use the anger in a positive way.”

“You bring in life force energy,” Keith responds, “starting at your root, in small drops, bringing it gradually as you can, all the way up through those blockages into your heart.”

I am so confused … I feel as if Keith is speaking Greek.

Stuck And Powerless

Keith quickly moves on to work with others.

I cannot feel anything. I cannot feel any energy. I want to scream and get angry … but the object of my projecting is only a few feet away and I have too much integrity to do that to him.

“It is not about Paul,” I remind myself. “It is not about what it appears to be about, and nothing changes until I do.”

“But I CANNOT do my work while he is sitting there,” I ponder in powerlessness. “I cannot speak about the intense emotions I am feeling while I am projecting so angrily onto Paul.”

I feel stuck, angry, hopeless, powerless, and numb. Finally, after thirty minutes of emptiness and unexpressed futility, I do something I have never before done at this point in a chocolate ceremony. I grab my stuff, put on my sandals, and start walking off the porch. As I am halfway down the garden steps, I turn and make eye contact with Keith, who glows kindly back at me.

“I don’t think I’ll be here to help bag chocolate tonight.” I tell Keith as small tears trickle down my cheeks. “Do you have time for a private session tomorrow?”

After we settle on an appointment at 9:00 a.m., I turn back down the steps and do not look back.

Isolated, Rebellious, And Angry

I feel sick about walking out of a ceremony … I have never walked out of a ceremony … but I simply cannot stay.

Being around Paul right now is triggering all of my hatred at distorted masculine energy – at the evil distorted energy I see as living inside of me. Trying to work on my inner issues right now would be like trying to work on the trauma of being an abuse victim, while my abuser sits in the chair next to me. I know it is not real, I know it is all a projected and beautifully orchestrated stage play … but I am so lost in the script that I cannot function.

I am home by 4:15 p.m., and finished scribbling notes shortly before 5:00 p.m. – I am angry, numb, stuck, clueless, exhausted, pissed, hopeless, powerless, disconnected, and you name it – whatever is dysfunctional in the world … I am that.

By 7:00 p.m., I am in bed – isolated, rebellious, angry, agitated, and emotionally charged.

Profoundly Projected Anger

For an hour and a half, I lie in bed rehearsing angry speeches – things I want to demand of Keith about why such horrible behavior on the porch has to stop. For the first time ever, I now clearly recognize that I am fully projecting my God/separation drama directly onto Keith.

A very unpleasant metaphorical analogy comes to mind … that of visualizing Paul as my abusive husband in a marriage that I was forced into by Keith (representing God). No matter how much I heal myself, Keith (God) demands that I have to stay in that abusive marriage, because my abuser is simply my creation … that I want him to abuse me … that he is serving me by abusing me.

Right now, I have lost all faith in the “I create my own reality” concept.

“I want Paul’s presence severely restricted.” I rehearse my imagined speech to Keith. “I don’t want him to have any healing privileges on the porch until he does his own work, cleans up his own act, and quits breaking all of the rules and disrupting everything. I do not want to be here if his behavior is permitted to go unchecked. It is just too miserable.”

My anger toward Keith is quite intense … but the observer in me (barely hanging on by a thread) understands that it is really anger at God.

An Angry Inner Tirade

At 8:30 p.m., I get back out of bed and continue my nonstop angry inner tirade.

“I can handle Paul treating me like shit,” I ponder angrily to myself, “but when he is a total dense jerk asshole with others, in a way that I perceive as being a predator of women, I cannot sit back and watch.”

“Enough already with the chicken bus,” I mumble in frustration, “Keith’s porch should make it possible for the fun bus … and Paul continually takes me right back to the nightmare bus.”

“He has no power over me,” I remind myself, “but I am sick and tired of him taking punches at me.”

“And I’m f-ing angry at God for permitting distorted masculine energies to dominate me … to dominate my life at every turn … to dominate the planet!”

Profound New Awareness

As I observe myself spiraling down the rabbit hole of angry victimization, profound and new realizations flood my awareness.

“I love my male and female energies inside.” I ponder with clarity. “They are beautiful and genuine, not being distorted at all. I have been seeing them as being distorted, but they are not … they are deeply loving … both of them.”

“And it is this crazy external reality that I am projecting outside that is making me angry enough to see the truth of what I am projecting inside …”

“Oh, I like that,” I ponder. “I am projecting this distorted dysfunction on both the inside and on the outside. My inner energies really are loving and pure.”

“It is time to go love myself.” I ponder this beautiful new awareness. “And it is time to ask my Higher Self, guides, angels, and Higher Energies to hold me and to love me.”

Bullshit Stories

As I sit on my daybed, unable to sleep, I begin browsing Facebook. Soon, I stumble upon a harshly worded thought – one of those catchy sayings that people share all over the place.

“The only thing standing between you and your goal is the bullshit story you keep telling yourself as to why you can’t achieve it.”

At first glance, I simply ignore this little tidbit of advice – but something inside causes me to go back and reread it multiple times.

“I am creating Paul as one of those bullshit stories that keeps me from moving forward.” I ponder clearly.

Soon, I go back to bed, repeating versions of this mantra over and over for the next several hours.

“I don’t deserve divine love because of Paul.” I repeat the first absurd ego lie.

“I am not worthy of love because I feel angry … I don’t deserve love because I am projecting onto Keith … I don’t get love when I am a bitch and stand up for myself.”

I repeat such bullshit lies over and over. Their absurdity is almost humorous … yet I have been believing them.

“I AM worthy of divine teddy-bear love,” I begin to repeat positive stories, “no matter who I am, what I do, or how I feel … such divine love is my birthright. It is absolute bullshit that an inner part of me would tell me otherwise … that an inner part of me would tell me that I don’t get this love because I am a victim of distorted masculine energy … that such energy keeps me from deserving divine love.”

Running Rampant

I am finally able to drift off to broken sleep around 11:00 p.m. – but to my dismay, after perhaps three hours of sleep, I am wide awake at 2:00 a.m. on Thursday morning … and the angry stories have returned with a renewed vengeance.

Again, I clearly recognize that I am immersed in my God/separation drama … that my anger at Keith is really anger at God … but the emotions of self-righteous indignation and victimization are intense. I realize that I cannot simply suppress these emotions. They need to find a healthy release or they will be back yet another day – and I am quite tired of them.

So, rather than pushing the stories back down I indulge them, letting them run rampant in my head until they run their course. It is an exercise in “Know Myself.”

“I feel like I am a victim of God’s representatives throughout my whole life,” I ponder with increasing emotional clarity, “and the only options I have allowed myself to have were to either humble myself and to comply with their wishes, feeling victimized yet again … or to simply walk or run away, which also makes me feel victimized because I have to leave something behind that I otherwise love.”

“I have never had a right to be angry or to confront my oppressors.” I ponder deeper. “I have always believed that confrontation is extremely evil … definitely not loving.”

A Pontiff And A Priest

Since I am allowing my emotions to surface and run rampant – and since I am projecting my God/separation drama all over Keith, I allow a new crazy metaphor to take shape – allowing it to bring absurd clarity to what my ego is trying to show me. My apologies go to the Catholic Church for my using of this stereotyped metaphor – one for which that church receives countless criticism.

I begin to see Keith as being the Pope, with Paul as being his all-star Catholic priest – a blessed priest being given full reign in the local parish. Last, but not least, I am a young alter boy.

Paul is magical and gifted, but at the same time is an angry wounded child with an empowered adult ego. But no matter how much good Paul does in the congregation, he abuses me, and a few other alter boys, all in the name of God and the Pope. This subtle abusive manipulation far outweighs and cancels the good he might do in the parish.

In my present state of projection, I honestly do feel as if I am that young alter boy, being abused by a sanctioned healer while God simply looks on and tells me to deal with it.

Give Up On God

“What does one do in an abusive marriage?” I ponder my previous metaphor. “The answer is obvious … they disconnect, heal themselves, and then if their partner does not heal, they get divorced.”

I feel as if the only way to divorce Paul is to leave the porch … something that breaks my heart to even think about doing. Yet, I cannot take the perceived abuse any more, and I am losing all belief that anything will ever change, no matter how much healing I do inside myself.

“When do I disengage and walk away from this marriage?” I ponder the frightening question. “Is that time now? Will Paul ever change? Will Keith ever step in to intervene on my behalf?”

My God/Separation drama is raging, big time. I have no hope that God is going to help … and I am feeling as if the only solution is to give up on God, once again.

Keith-Sanctioned Crap

“I love my pure and genuine masculine and feminine selves.” I again begin to return to loving reality. “It is the distortions that I project onto each of them that devastate me. I am massively projecting these distortions both inward and outward.”

“What I am projecting onto nearly all masculine energy is what happened to me at the hands of distorted men, most of them religious, when I was a child, teenager, and even as an adult.” I ponder with clarity. “I am projecting the distortions that were modeled for me as God-sanctioned, culture-sanctioned, as a “boys-will-be-boys” cart blanche attitude that allows men to be jerks and tells women that they just have to submit and take it.

“Bullshit,” I again access the harsh language. “My inner male is beautiful, humble, genuine, loving, devoted, and magical … as is my inner feminine.”

“It is my God/separation drama that is really up.” I ponder ever more clearly. “I am angry at all of that God-sanctioned crap – crap that is now being beautifully modeled for me as Keith-sanctioned crap.”

Nightmares For Growth

Just before walking out to Keith’s porch for my 9:00 a.m. appointment, barely functioning on three hours sleep, I feel guided to pull another Tarot card. To my delight, I pull the “Tower” card, which to me represents the tearing down of all structures (physical, mental, emotional, etc) that no longer serve – that prevent me from moving deeper into a pure connection with divinity.

How perfect and appropriate for what I am going through!

One of the first things I do when I sit down with Keith is to confess to him how angry I am, and how strongly I am projecting my God drama all over him. We spend the first hour simply talking, building trust and understanding, discussing my awareness and the difference between my projections versus my concerns about real events that actually need to be dealt with.

“Brenda,” Keith reminds me, “You have repeatedly been shown that everything on the porch is part of your own created reality. You have written about this countless times in your blog.”

“You created this nightmare because you wanted it for your growth.” Keith gently reassures me.

My Personal Nightmare

“But isn’t there a ‘fun bus’ way to do this?” I beg Keith for guidance on how I might manifest things in an easier way.

“This is the way you created it.” Keith lovingly reassures me. “You need to deeply understand this nightmare … you will be working with many people who are deeply immersed in the middle of such nightmares and you have to have been there yourself in order to understand and help.”

“I don’t want to work with people in that state of nightmare projections.” I protest in panic. “I don’t think I can do it … I know I cannot do it in my current state.”

Keith goes on to remind me of how, when we near the end of an ego pattern, that we often manifest situations that seem to go “wham, wham, wham”, slamming us with painful scenarios to give us an opportunity to work through final issues, and to release all of the emotional charges surrounding ego patterns that are nearing completion. He also reminds me that if I re-escalate the emotional charges, that I will again manifest additional situations to help me find completion.

Reality Creation 101

Keith reassures me that he is aware of the issues, and is now preparing to begin making necessary changes, as guided, to ensure a proper therapeutic environment for all involved on the porch – but that I need not concern myself with that aspect.

He again emphasizes that the only thing I need to worry about is that I need to quit fighting the flow of my own creations on the porch – of my own projections – that I need to actually surrender to the emotions that are triggered rather than blaming them on someone else.

I am actually starting to believe again – to believe that Keith has been allowing these behaviors to go unchecked because I needed to experience the intense emotions and growth that would be triggered as a result. I needed to develop further trust that I am joint partners with Paul (and others) in creating this reality, and that the highest good is unfolding for all of us – including for Paul and everyone else on the porch.

I am finally starting to remember that there are no victims in this situation – that everyone jointly creates or allows everything that takes place in their interactions together, even if at a conscious level they fight the process as I have been doing.

“When these things are triggered,” Keith guides me, “You need to learn to stop projecting them onto Paul, and to instead recognize their true source. Then you need to allow the higher energies to assist you in moving them.”

Rational Mind Calming

“Do higher energies really do that?” I beg Keith to help me have more trust. “I continue to have so little experience in allowing higher energies to help me … so little trust that they actually will.”

To my delight, Keith continues to discuss issue after issue with me at a rational-mind level. I love the mental clarity that he shares with me. I love how he is just talking to me at a loving intellectual level.

“Keith, I am confused,” I giggle while begging for clarity. “When I want you to help me at a rational-mind level, you usually refuse, resisting my requests for such guidance. But today, I came here expecting you to guide me into meditations that would help me move through these painful projections, and here you are, remaining totally in the mind. What gives?”

“Brenda,” Keith lovingly responds, “today I feel guided that we need to remain at the rational mind level. You need the calming reassurance of such a discussion.”

I love it. I am learning a great deal, and the conversation is exactly what I need to calm my projections and panic.

A Co-Triggering Relationship

“You and Paul are in a deeply-agreed-upon spiritual relationship of co-triggering each other.” Keith confidently reassures me.

“You are playing out each others’ scripts … opposite ends of the same script … serving each other beautifully.” Keith continues. “You set this up as a profound way to address all of your issues … issues with distorted male energy, your God drama, and with things like sexual predators.”

“This is triggering the most painful core issues of your life … all at once … in a powerful way, as guided by your higher energies.” Keith goes on. “If you continue to fight it, to buy into the projections, they will keep coming and coming. If you do not buy it, as you were able to do on Sunday and a few other occasions, you will be able to cooperate with the process and release these patterns as part of the flow.”

“How is that done?” I beg Keith for more guidance.

“It is not done with the mind.” Keith teaches. “It comes from trusting the flow … ‘Knowing Thyself’ … not buying the triggers when they happen … still feeling the emotions when they are triggered, but finding their true source … using the light to partner in the process.”

Seeking Answers

I spend a little time sharing with Keith regarding my turbulent emotional journey of last night.

When I tell him how I reached a point of realizing that I deserve love no matter who I am or what I do. Keith quickly coaches me that there is an energetic charge attached to the word “deserve” – recommending that I instead recognize that pure divine unconditional love is abundantly available to all of us, all the time – that we just need to undo our blocks that prevent us from receiving it.

Next, I share with Keith how I finally realized last night that my inner masculine and feminine energies are already genuine, pure, healed, and loving.

“Are those energies really already healed … and am I just projecting my unhealed stuff both inward and outward?” I ask Keith to help me understand.

Keith responds that his guidance is that I have actually connected to my future feminine and masculine selves – those already healed energies of where I am headed – the energies that all of us can connect to when we need guidance on how to move forward.

“Believe me,” Keith glows as he speaks to me, “it is so powerful when you finally heal these two parts of yourself into a beautiful inner relationship.”

Powerful Incentive

When I again ask Keith “How do I get to the fun bus?”, he reassures me that everything that is happening is a perfect setup – created by me – manifested for the healing of all the crazy unhealed stuff still inside of me – that this is my version of the easy bus, which is much easier than playing it all out in the world as trauma and drama.

“You are doing it all at once,” Keith grins at me, “so that you can allow more of your magic to flow through you to others. You set it up this way … this is leading to the fun bus … but it is the way your energies created and manifested it. The more you fight it, the more your nightmare will prolong.”

Keith’s words give me a powerful incentive to process my triggers and to no longer push them down, or project them onto others – instead allowing myself to feel them, but to attribute them to their true origin.

Magical Energy Flow

After answering several more questions, Keith then guides me into a very simple but beautiful meditation – simply asking me to bring light into my hands and to share it with my belly.

Occasionally we chat about the experience I am having, but mostly, we spend the next hour and a half in peaceful silence.

As I observe the energy flow in my hands, I feel sensations and slight pains that migrate all over my belly. The little pains and prickles begin mostly on the left (feminine) side of my solar plexus, soon spreading to the lower second chakra as well. Eventually the mild prickly energies move to the center of my abdomen where they spread up into my heart region.

Peace and trust gradually consume me.

As I prepare to walk home, I glance at my watch and am shocked to discover that Keith and I have been working together for three and a half hours. I am so profoundly grateful for the amazing and guided way in which he has once again succeeded in helping me to regain a beautiful sense of trust, emotional stability, and magical energy flow.

Refusing To Run

Before leaving, I engage Keith in one final short conversation.

“Last night, I was feeling so pissed, powerless, and hopeless,” I share with Keith, “that I was more inclined than I have ever been to pack my suitcases and to run away from all of this. But now, I am so grateful that I stuck it out, once again.”

“You created a profound manifestation,” Keith gently reassures me. “You created someone who would simultaneously trigger your deepest core issues – but someone from whom you could not run, short of giving up your path completely.”

“Yeah,” I respond, “If I were anywhere else in the world, in any other situation, I would have no problem just walking away … but this is the one place I am committed to be … and it is the one place where Paul also refuses to leave. No other situation could have forced me to look inside so painfully and powerfully.”

Energetic Rewards

After treating myself, and my inner children, to a burger and fries, I am home in bed shortly after 2:00 p.m., taking a much-needed nap of over four hours. When I finally do climb back out of bed, beautiful energy is flowing throughout most of my body. I love how this vibrating peaceful energy surrounds me, reassuring me that all is well.

After watching a movie while gobbling down a dinner of hot buttered popcorn, I am again back in dreamland by 9:00 p.m., feeling utterly exhausted from two long days of emotional processing and sleep shortages.

Perfectly Painful Projections

These two days were among the most difficult days of my ongoing journey with emotional inner work. I had no idea that I could yet be triggered so deeply by the behavior of another human being.

Today, nearly six weeks after the fact – even though I am now on very beautiful and peaceful terms with Paul – I was again nearly overcome with anger and tears as I regressed into the agonizing emotional anguish of that painful Wednesday evening back on February 8, 2012.

While writing about that Wednesday evening, I literally collapsed into a puddle of jaw-shaking tears on my daybed. With angry emotions spewing out of my body, and tears streaming down my cheeks, I was quite unsure as to whether I would be able to continue the daunting task of writing. Whenever I write, I literally relive the emotional experiences that I am attempting to integrate and share.

Somehow, I found the strength to finish my writing … to move forward into that beautiful healing conversation that took place with Keith on that Thursday morning in February… and as I did, I gradually reintegrated that healing as well.

It is amazing how six additional weeks of processing can give me so much perspective over what happened so long ago in early February. Now, as I sit here typing these final words, I can breathe a sigh of relief.

I made it. I went through the painful projections once again … I healed and integrated many things today while doing so … and I can indeed see in retrospect how every aspect of that projected painful journey was profoundly perfect.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved