Brenda's Bicycles

The first huge rainstorm of the season, a downpour of tremendous energy and power, seems to electrify my body. Later Thursday evening, as I meditate in bed while enjoying beautiful high-vibration energy, I suddenly experience a brand new and unexpected electrical sensation – one that is delightful and impossible to dismiss with rational mind. 

I sense what feels like a sharp needle prick, poking me at the exact center of my crown chakra, right in the top of my scalp. Immediately I feel an unfamiliar energy flow, as if a small electrical wire has been inserted deep into my head. This tiny flow of energy tingles pleasurably, beginning at what intuitively feels like the exact center of my brain, exiting my scalp at the exact spot of the initial poke, and not ending until several inches above the top of my head. 

To my surprise, my physical senses actually feel the tiny focused energy column even after it leaves my body, as if invisible external nerve cells relay messages back to my brain, letting me know of its presence above my head. 

“I wonder if my pineal gland is beginning to open.” I excitedly ponder before drifting off to sleep. 

Fishing For Answers 

On Friday morning, April 22, I begin with yet another very high-energy meditation, again briefly experiencing the tiny vertical column of tingling energy in my head, but I soon begin to  doubt myself, quickly tripping into a small ego-based “I will fail” loop that spirals me into wasting half the morning. It is a loop of tiredness, lack of motivation, believing that spirituality is a lot of work, and playing mindless computer games to further numb my shutting-down mind. 

As early afternoon finally arrives, six of us gather on the magical porch. Keith immediately asks me for a status report. 

I hem and haw, sharing generalities of powerful meditations followed by a short ego loop – but Keith seems unsatisfied by my vagueness, as if waiting for more details. Finally I excitedly remember the amazing sensations of that tiny tingly column of energy piercing through my head. 

“That’s exactly what I was looking for.” Keith responds with a grin, acting like he already knew that I had experienced something quite unique. 

Energetic Curiosity 

Keith goes on to share with the group how he and Serg have been doing some powerful extended meditations for the past couple of mornings, exploring several amazing options for assisting others in clearing out their energy fields, even from as far away as halfway around the planet. 

“Did you do something to help me?” I ask Keith curiously. 

Keith just grins and leaves me wondering. The only thing I know for sure is that prior to my arrival on the porch, he intuitively knew that I had experienced something quite unique since yesterday afternoon. 

Spiraling Deeper 

During the first several months of practically living on Keith’s magical porch, I rarely witnessed the subject of childhood shutdown come up in more than just a casual passing way. But for me, it now seems that the unraveling of my own shutdown journey is occurring intensely on a nearly-daily basis – showing up in almost every direction that I look. 

To my delight, many people on the porch are suddenly beginning to enter deeply into their own childhood explorations – how they too had been deeply shutdown by the loss of childhood magic – magic that was not understood or validated in their birth families or cultures. Almost every day, someone else on the porch has begun to launch into deep realizations about childhood experiences. I can only hope that the example of my own journey is inspiring others to open up – to further explore their own buried pain. 

Serg and I have already been mirroring each others’ childhood journeys for a couple of weeks, but today I am quite shocked and amazed when more than half of the group begins to delve into issues of suppressed childhood magic. 

As one young woman begins to work with her inner child, I again connect with little Bobby who has been in and out of his imaginary isolation chamber since yesterday. As the young woman digs deeper into her pain, I focus on bringing in more light and divine energies to share with my Bobby. Suddenly I feel myself inexplicably sinking into deep sadness and resistance.  

The observer in me sounds internal alarms. I recognize signs of doubt, avoidance, fear, feeling overwhelmed, expected failure, confusion, sadness, and depression all beginning to pull me into a patterned loop of emotional shutdown. 

Quickly I attempt to bring in additional higher energy vibrations, but with each attempt to bring in the light and to raise myself up, I seem to sink even further into the depths below. 

You’re Going Down 

Past experience tells me that once in such a loop, that the only way out is to complete the pattern … to hit some type of deep emotional bottom where I either release the emotions in a productive experiential way (such as on Keith’s porch), or where I numb myself via once-trusted methods such as isolation, television, movies, extra sleep, or computer games. 

“Quit trying to resist,” the voices taunt me. “You’re already too far into this loop. You know there is no way out. You’re going to the bottom and there is nothing you can do to stop that fact.” 

The impartial observer in me would like to prove this ego voice to be wrong. 

An Inside Job 

As I ponder what is happening to me, I quickly recognize that the loop was entered at the moment when I began to bring in higher dimensional energies to share with my little Bobby. As I reflect on the experiences that Bobby and I shared yesterday in metaphorical meditation, an idea flashes into my awareness. 

“Bobby is the one who once had the powerful connection to divine energies as a tiny child,” I suddenly understand, “and it was his connection to those energies that resulted in so much pain that he eventually had to shut it all down, isolating himself in a desperate attempt at survival.” 

“The last thing little Bobby wants to do is to further immerse himself back into that light. It is Bobby himself that is attempting to shut me down at this very moment.” 

“Bobby is terrified of that light.” 

Stubborn Resistance 

“Bring Bobby into your heart.” Keith guides me. 

It takes me a few minutes to coax him to join me, but I finally sense that Bobby has begrudgingly complied. 

“Now have the child go out through the back door of your heart and into the meadow where he can hang out with your Higher Self.” Keith guides me further. 

In past meditations, Keith has introduced me to the metaphor of imagining a beautiful meadow in which my inner child can play. The doorway that leads to this meadow is in a very convenient location, directly behind my heart. 

“Ask your Higher Self to help Bobby to understand, to learn, and to relax.” Keith continues. 

As I imagine little Bobby walking out the back door of my heart chakra, I suddenly experience sharp pains in the very center of my back where the doorway would be metaphorically located. Intuitively, I recognize the pain as telling me that little Bobby is fiercely resistant, not at all happy about being sent out to the meadow for new understanding. He stubbornly wants things to remain exactly as they are. 

Peaceful Reunion 

Nervously, I sit on the sidelines, simply feeling the pain in the back of my heart chakra while only imagining what might be taking place between Higher Self and little Bobby. 

From past experience, I trust that I do not need to know, that I do not need to be directly involved in the conversation, and that it is probably best to step aside, leaving such a delicate and difficult task to someone as unconditionally loving as my own Higher Self. 

Finally, after about thirty minutes, I experience a sensation of relaxation and peace in the back of my heart. I feel no trace of prior emotions that almost pulled me into deep tears. 

“Bobby has come back inside.” The little Jedi voices in my heart whisper.  

Reality Questioned 

As I glance around the porch, I feel strangely disoriented, as if I just woke up from a lucid dream, seriously questioning my reality. 

“Who am I?” I ponder momentarily. “Where am I? What am I feeling?” 

Rational mind cannot fully grasp what just occurred – that sending a frightened and resistant metaphorical inner child out to an imaginary meadow to have a chat with Higher Self could have such an amazing result. 

But I cannot deny what I feel. I know that it was indeed all real. 

An Unplanned Opportunity 

For the remainder of what turns out to be a ceremony of only three hours, I sit in awe, basking in the glow of divine energy, inhaling the vibrations running through me, pondering the mysteries. 

Shortly after 3:30, everyone except Keith, Serg and I have left the porch – either they feel as if their work is now complete, or they have other commitments.  

Excitement tells me that this is all my creation – that for some reason I need this alone time with Serg and Keith. I could never have predicted what would unfold next. 

Disappearing Keith 

“Keith,” I inquire with deep curiosity, “Can you explain further about how you and Serg have been exploring new ways to use your energy to help others clear out emotional densities? 

Rather than answer my question directly, Keith stands up, begins to walk into his kitchen and then looks back. 

“I’m getting that you and Serg need to work together for a while.” Keith quickly adds as he disappears from the porch. 

A Look In The Mirror 

My several-month journey in frequently rubbing shoulders with Serg has been overloaded with frequent-but-unexpressed projection and judgment. My own deep struggles to overcome the limitations of logical thinking have been repeatedly and painfully mirrored back to me by Serg’s deep processes. 

I have often found myself avoiding opportunities to work with Serg because of these painful reflections into my own issues. 

In the last few months I have grown to deeply love and appreciate the genuine soul that Serg is – a man that followed an amazing yogic path through much of his life – a man who is profoundly gifted in the energies – and yes, a man who continues to struggle as he progresses through his own self-limitations and belief systems. 

But even as my judgments have melted, I have never fully dropped the wall of resistance. 

Today, as Keith asks me to work with Serg, I am momentarily forced to look deeply into the mirror. To my surprise, that wall of resistance is completely gone. 

Basking In The Flow 

Serg and I are soon sitting cross-legged on the porch, directly opposite each other as he begins to guide me into a powerful light meditation. 

From several feet away, Serg begins to coach me using the profound energy gifts with which he has been blessed. In a way that I have yet to understand, this energy genius deeply senses energy flow in another. He can tell where it is, how much there is, where it is blocked, and where it is flowing – and he does it all while quietly sitting with his eyes closed in meditation. 

With Serg’s help, I soon have a delightful and powerful flow of energy coming down from above, flowing around the outside front of my body, while simultaneously entering the front of each of the top four chakras. I continue to experience strong resistance at the third-eye, but clearly sense the flow entering my crown, my throat, and my heart areas. 

Gradually, Serg coaches me into allowing the energy to trickle back through the chakras until it reaches my spine and then begins to flow up the back side of my body, returning again to the crown. This latter process is filled with many delightful surprises as I experience the tingling of long-blocked spinal areas beginning to finally open up and flow with divine energy.  

Serg’s feedback is amazing, helping me to trust and to recognize what I am feeling as he skillfully points out where the blockages are, and then congratulates me as they open – even before I say anything about what I feel. 

Soon, Serg coaches me into opening blocks in the shoulders and parts of my neck. His energy sensitivities defy all rational logic as he continually coaches me in fine tuning the flow. 

Eventually, after nearly an hour, I am basking in a beautiful and continuous flow of this powerful and peaceful energy that circulates throughout the upper half of my body. 

Severed 

“All of the upper body meridians are now open,” Serge reassures me, “and energy is flowing in all of your channels from the heart up.” 

But then Serg gives me something to work toward, letting me know that while all areas in which we have worked are open, that my flow is only at beginning levels, and that there is much room for strengthening and improvement – that much of the energy is just barely moving. 

Another disconcerting bit of feedback comes when I ask Serg about working with my lower chakras. 

“It metaphorically feels as if the flow from the bottom of your heart chakra into the solar plexus has been severed.” Serg shares his impression. 

Intuitively, Serg’s words feel right. I know that much more emotional density work remains to be done in my lower chakras. The lack of energy flow in my abdomen continues to baffle me, but I trust that everything happens for a reason. 

Reappearing Keith 

Feeling quite proud of what he has helped me to do, Serg soon enters the kitchen and drags Keith back out onto the porch to see the finished product. 

“Wow,” Keith smiles as he validates that he too is impressed by the changes in my energy flow. 

Keith glows as he tells me that I am rapidly approaching an energetic space where I will no longer need to do as much of my emotional processing using the physical trauma/drama methods, and where I will instead begin to do much more of that density release using the partnership with higher energies. 

I can only hope Keith is right. I am so tired of crying things out the hard way. 

Building Trust 

“Surrender to the light,” Keith soon coaches me. “Ask the light to consume your body.” 

Soon I feel an even stronger vibration throughout my entire upper body – but oddly enough I still feel nothing from the solar plexus downward. 

As I melt back into amazing meditative bliss, I again begin to feel a tingling and sharply-focused energy stream briefly penetrating from above the top of my head, passing through the crown chakra, and ending exactly in the center of my brain. 

I wish I could sit in this powerful flow all night long – but darkness is approaching and I know Keith needs his porch back. After another hour or so, I reluctantly end the blissful experience, rise to my feet, and exchange a warm round of hugs and gratitude with both of my teachers. 

As I begin a solo walk back toward town, I am lost in another world, dreaming about an ocean that no longer seems quite so far away.  

“I did it.” I proudly pat myself on the back. “I stayed out of my head and did not feel any resistance. 

“I actually felt the energy flowing in powerful physical ways, more than ever before.” I continue to congratulate myself. 

I smile as I ponder the story of two little frogs, one that lives in a well and one that lives by the ocean. 

“I might just make it to the ocean after all.” I giggle to myself.  

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

 

After an incredibly intense four-day weekend consumed by explorations into childhood sanity, I finally surface from the bottom of the emotional lake. 

On Tuesday, I gratefully enjoy a serene day of writing and meditation, a much needed breath of fresh air indeed. 

In the chocolate ceremony on Wednesday, peaceful energy abounds – no personal issues arise, and I am delighted by the opportunity to merely hold energetic space for the emotional journeys of others. A large group appears on the porch, several of whom speak little or no English. It is fun for a change to attempt awkward Spanish translations rather than attempting to translate the symbolic language of the subconscious. 

But this energizing vacation from inner work is short lived. Thursday, April 21, brings with it a whole new wave of exciting emotional insight and growth – growth that only unfolds as I release doubts and begin to further trust an amazing synchronous flow of metaphorical threads. 

Contrasting Energies 

Learning to actually get up when I awaken during the wee morning hours has been, and continues to be, a tedious, long-and-drawn-out challenge. But for some reason I find it quite easy on Thursday morning to actually sit up in bed at 4:30 a.m., soon immersing myself in deep meditation. 

The unplanned mind journey takes me further into self awareness, exploring patterns of thinking – patterns of slipping into confusion, of feeling overwhelmed, and of inability to understand instructions – patterns of being in a conversation with friends and suddenly realizing that I have slipped into mental isolation, not remembering a single word of the previous five minutes – patterns of varying forms of mental shutdown during stress. 

As I spiral through the increasing insights of ‘Know Thyself’, I experience a rush of energy in my spine and head. Another obvious realization simultaneously settles in, “I am feeling almost no energy sensations, none whatsoever, in my lower chakras.” 

“I wonder what that is about … and could I be about to find out?” 

Meditative Magic 

This meaningful morning meditation leaves me in a motivated and energized state, soon leading to four dedicated hours of non-stop language study. Little by little my Spanish skills continue to grow, as does an increasing freedom from past ego-driven loops – loops consisting of various forms of subtle self-sabotage. 

The chocolate ceremony begins with a long period of silent meditative magic – not peaceful magic mind you, but magic that instead begins to guide me on a new journey through chaos. 

Interruptions Of Silence 

As I venture further into meditation, I am bombarded with confusion and doubt – feelings that only intensify with every attempt to calm the overwhelming chatter. This incessant mind babbling will not allow me to focus. Each time I grab hold of a worthy thought, trying to follow it deeper, the distracting confusion and resistance raise their heads like a two-headed dragon, knocking me off balance, causing me to retreat in bewilderment, taking me on a distracted and meaningless tangent. 

“This must be something really big,” I think to myself as I ponder the strength of the inner resistance. “Why else would ego be fighting back so forcefully?” 

“Keith, I could really use some help,” I finally interrupt the silence. 

A Portfolio Of Evidence 

“Go deeper into self observation.” Keith coaches me, congratulating me for being so aware of the ego loop unfolding inside of me. 

As I allow myself to spiral deeper, observing myself from an impartial third-party perspective, I am able to see the ongoing process with increasing clarity. The doubts, the mental chatter, and the feelings of being lost continue to parade their presence through my consciousness with rising intensity. 

I simply watch and learn, fully recognizing that ego is attempting to again suck me into my God/ separation drama, desperately trying to convince me that I will never receive the actual help that I seek – help that ego insists must come from a validating external source. 

This hidden voice inside is wallowing in distracted confusion and predicted failure – declaring itself to be utterly helpless in resisting the ongoing barrage. The voice whines incessantly, proclaiming its desire to simply give up – tediously detailing a vast portfolio of collected evidence – evidence that proves beyond any doubt that there is no point in proceeding with this lame meditation. 

A Flash Of Understanding 

“Failure is assured and inevitable.” The voice screams. “Why further trouble myself in the face of what will surely end in embarrassing disappointment.” 

This frantic voice – a voice that is clearly ego – is alone, separate, abandoned by God and teachers – helpless, and hopeless, pitifully lost in an endless game of smallness and futility. 

Over the months, Keith has explained several times that the God/separation drama involves the fear that “If I am not pathetic enough, then God or teachers will surely never help me – that the only way to receive such help is if I am pathetic enough to need it.” 

I have often felt slightly confused by Keith’s words. At times the ego voice would whisper that Keith was attempting to subtly convey that he thinks “I myself am pathetic” – but my heart knows otherwise. 

I am now clear in this crazy meditation that ego is desperately trying to lead me down a journey of being absolutely pathetic and helpless – attempting to show me that I simply cannot do this type of inner work all by myself. 

Today, I finally understand. 

A Frightening Thought 

An intuitive flash causes the observer-in-me to suddenly reverse the words of those fear-based ego words. 

“A deeply rooted part of me believes,” I ponder with profound clarity, “that if I am strong and empowered then I will be expected to do everything on my own – all by myself – that no one will ever again offer me assistance if I appear capable of doing the task by myself.” 

“Being capable and empowered will cause me to be all alone.” Ego shouts with convincing power. “God will no longer assist me and no one will help me ever again.” 

What a frightening thought. 

A Pathetic Help History 

Inside, I do indeed carry a firmly-rooted subconscious belief that, “If I am empowered and capable of doing something on my own, then no one will ever step up to help me.” 

Repeatedly in my life, personal experience has seemingly-proven this false-belief to be true. I have a long history of being fiercely independent – doing my own yard work – my own major remodeling and home repairs – my own psychological self-help – stubbornly struggling through every this and that, no matter how huge and/or difficult the task, whether physically or mentally. 

Even as I attempt to write these words today, I giggle as I realize how I am struggling just to write this very section, refusing to pause and ask for higher guidance to help me. 

Life evidence has seemingly proved to me that being empowered and capable has an implicit outcome of “I will have to do it all by myself.” 

But if I am honest with myself, I see that the opposite is true.  

An Ironic Twist 

Yes, as I honestly reflect back in time, I did indeed repetitively fall prey to the belief that help would not be available until I got pathetic enough to require it. 

Ironically, I had it all backwards. 

The help was always available, simply waiting for me to open my heart and to ask. 

The problem was in my own stubbornness and independence. It was I who refused to seek out the help until I collapsed into that pathetic state of helplessness. 

Ego Is A Liar 

“Brenda,” Keith has often told me, “I’m a smart cookie, but I could have never figured this all out on my own.” 

I have always recognized that this statement is also true for me. I clearly recognize that I am but an embryo in my understanding – that guidance from higher sources is my only hope of further progression down the path toward that mysterious spiritual awakening. 

But ego continues to encourage me to be stronger, more independent, and less needy – continuing to whisper that requesting help means I am stupid and dumb – that by now I should be capable of doing it by myself. 

Ego is a liar! 

The more I expose ego’s games, the more I discover that the divine guidance I seek is always right there, simply waiting for me to ask. 

Preacher On A Soap Box 

The energies on the porch are now high enough.” Keith unexpectedly interjects as I begin to reach greater peace and clarity. 

“I think we can all connect in meditation at a much deeper level,” Keith continues, “just like Serg and I did this morning.” 

Keith is referring to a meditation this morning in which he and Serg had accessed a very profound high-vibration energy connection. 

Immediately upon hearing these words, I again sink into confusing shutdown, beginning to doubt my energy and meditation abilities in a huge way. 

“I feel as if my rational mind is standing up on a soap box.” I exclaim to Keith in frustration as my confidence wavers dramatically. 

“This uninvited preacher is screaming that I simply cannot access these higher levels,” I continue, “declaring that it WILL NOT happen – that I am not now capable, nor will I ever be capable of meditating at such high-vibration levels.” 

“Replace that rational mind voice with an image of your religious leaders.” Keith guides me in an unexpected twist. “Take your power back from that voice.” 

No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot seem to do it. The task feels unachievable. 

A Tale Of Two Frogs 

To my initial annoyance (I guess I have not yet learned), Serg interrupts the discussion in an attempt to help me. 

Serg quickly shares a delightful little story about two frogs. Please forgive me for paraphrasing. 

It seems that one frog lives at the bottom of a deep well. His entire reality consists of the confines of the well. He is intimately familiar with every reachable corner of his physical world. This little frog is an accomplished expert on the Universe as he experiences it, being happy and content to live out his days in this tiny little kingdom. 

One day, a second frog comes to visit the first. This traveling frog has come from the ocean, and shares fantastic stories – stories that sound unbelievable – stories of an unlimited world – of a huge reality of powerful waves, sandy beaches, warm sun, and an unrestricted potential for exploration and learning. 

“I don’t understand what you are trying to tell me!” The first frog declares as he listens intently to the frog’s ocean stories, attempting to understand, but struggling with the concept of whether such bizarre truths could actually exist. The tiny frog wants to believe, wants to understand, but is simply incapable of grasping concepts so foreign to his current experience. 

“I cannot possibly describe the majesty, beauty and wonder of my world using words.” The second frog finally gives up even trying to explain. “Why don’t you just come and visit me at the ocean? You can find out for yourself.” 

I Don’t Know How 

As Serg completes this delightful little story, new insights begin to burst forth with every thought. 

“I am living in a well.” I ponder humbly. “I have lived in this limited reality for my entire life. How can I ever presume to understand the vast and unlimited ocean?” 

Yes, intuitions have given me glimpses of the occasional blurry photo. Powerful experiences have brought the taste of salt to my tongue, the sound of distant seagulls to my ears, and brief feelings of the warm sun on my skin … but I long for a personal visit to this amazing place … I crave a first-hand understanding … I desperately desire to actually visit the ocean. 

Tears begin to trickle down my cheeks as I feel deeply humbled and hopelessly lost. The ocean seems so far away. I wish I knew how to proceed. 

Attempting To Deceive 

“I can’t do this Keith,” I whimper through newly humbled tears. “As much as I want to take my power back, that preacher on a soap box seems to have too much control over me.” 

Soon Keith guides both me and Serg into our own individualized subconscious journeys. This journey involves extra doorways and several additional hallways, where at the end of my journey I discover a small room. In the center of the room is a short pedestal, on top of which rests an open book – a book containing the rules that continue to run my life. 

I briefly see a visual of the pedestal and book, but as Keith asks me to read the words on the already-open page, I can only feel the invisible content. I slowly share with Keith what my feelings tell me is written on that page. 

“I must defer absolute authority to my church leaders. My personal guidance will never guide me outside the boundaries carefully outlined by those leaders. If any intuitive guidance goes against church teachings, then I will know that the guidance is coming from evil satanic sources that are attempting to deceive me.” 

Pulverized To Dust 

“Rip the pages out and destroy them.” Keith guides me. 

Keith emphasizes that the pages containing the subconscious rules must be destroyed in a permanent and creative way, and that the metaphorical process must be repeated for a total of three times. 

For the first time, I take the pages to a fireplace, where I toss them into the flames of a huge, blazing fire. As I watch the final paper disappear into ashes I return back to the book. 

After ripping out the same pages for a second time, I tear them into tiny shreds, sprinkle acid all over them, and then carefully immerse them into a large vat of paper-eating acid. When the process is complete I again return to the book, rip the pages out one last time, and cover them with hot wax, following which I pulverize them to dust using a flaming blow torch. 

A Serious Rule

As I finish my process, I intuitively take another glance at the open book and sense that another rule is waiting to be destroyed. This one has a slightly different twist. 

“My life journey is to be taken very seriously. Spirituality is serious business. No fun is allowed. Fun is a distraction.” 

As I reach phase three in the destruction of this second rule, I feel quite creative and choose to have some fun. First I rip the pages into tiny bits and soak them to a pulp in water. Next I toss the pulpy water into a nearby river where fish quickly rush up and devour the sinking blobs of mushy paper. Repeatedly, the smaller fish are eaten by larger and larger fish who are eventually swallowed by sharks. 

Taking Back My Power 

As I finish this process I again return my focus onto taking back my power from that pushy preacher standing on a soap box – the one telling me I cannot raise my energies to new levels in meditation. 

Suddenly, I see the hot-air filled church leader as being a huge hot-air balloon. Grabbing the man-shaped balloon in my hands, I untie the end where the air is inflated. Then, placing my lips to the open end, I suck the air out of the balloon, breathing it back into my body. 

To me, this is deeply symbolic of taking back my power, breathing it back into my own soul. The metaphorical process brings with it a great sense of emotional peace. 

Absolutely Nothing 

As Keith proceeds to work with others, I decide to continue on my own, to find out if I can really do this type of work with minimal assistance from a physical teacher. 

Remembering recent experiences, I again ask my unnamed higher-being friend to blend energy with me. Almost immediately after silently expressing my intent, I feel the same warm presence pressing on the upper portion of my heart chakra, letting me know that my friend is here. 

“Will you help me work with my solar plexus?” I ask the higher being. “I would like to figure out how to further open up this painful and shutdown chakra.” 

As I place this request out into the Universe, I immediately feel … absolutely nothing. 

Metaphorical Threads 

Keith has frequently taught me that making direct requests of the higher energies is totally appropriate. The higher energies will always respond, but the answer may not necessarily be what I requested. Once my intent has been expressed, my job is to release all attachments, and to instead begin to follow and unravel the metaphorical threads of whatever response I do receive. If I surrender and follow these unraveling metaphors, I always find great treasures. 

As I ponder this wisdom from Keith, realizing that this is what I must now do, I quickly begin to feel more sharp pains in my solar plexus.  

“That is definitely a metaphor to follow.” I begin to coach myself. 

As I flow into the pain, I am intuitively guided to feel as if I am working with a scared puppy – some type of fear that is too frightened to fully communicate with me. 

I imagine myself placing a bowl of milk – milk filled with love and light – into my abdomen for the little shaking puppy to drink.  

I feel absolutely no change. I repeat with more loving milk. Again I sense no difference. I send a stronger wave of love with the same result of nothing. In confused desperation, I invite my precocious little inner child Sharon to go play with the puppy. Again the offer is ignored and rejected. Nothing changes. 

It seems that my solar plexus is overflowing with resistance. 

An Isolation Chamber 

Not giving up, I return to an even deeper meditation, again trusting my own feelings without seeking outside validation from Keith. 

Soon, a new semi-visual metaphor pops unexpectedly into my head, replacing that of the puppy. I feel and partially see the presence of a round isolation chamber with a submarine-like hatch for a door. To my surprise, the door is locked from the inside, behind which I sense an isolated little boy – the little boy of my childhood – my little Bobby. 

Beautiful little Bobby is hiding out, refusing to leave his isolation chamber. More than half a century ago little Bobby locked himself in this room as a protection from the outside world – the fearful world of the chaos and confusion that energetically shut him down. 

I try to coax Bobby to open the hatch, to perhaps even come outside, but he will neither come out nor allow me in. He does not trust me, seeing me as the cause of his problems. 

The experience is quite similar to one in which I discovered my little girl Sharon – a story fully documented in a blog entry titled Sharonsky. 

Building Trust 

Sharon quickly comes to my rescue as I ask for her help. When she too fails to coax little Bobby to come out, Sharon waves her wand and magically teleports herself to the inside of the isolation chamber where she begins to have a little chat. Bobby continues to be stubborn, refusing to listen. 

Eventually, with a great deal of coaxing, Sharon reminds Bobby that he is magical, and that he can make the isolation tank disappear and reappear at will. The two of them do it several times together. Bobby is actually quite excited about his magical ability. 

I simply watch and allow as my two inner children play and develop mutual trust in one another. 

An Excited Child  

At one point in the ceremony, I briefly fill in Keith regarding what I am doing, but I then resume working on my own without seeking his further guidance. 

As Keith begins to work with one of my friends, little Bobby suddenly makes his isolation chamber disappear and begins to pay careful attention to what is occurring outside on the porch. 

When Keith begins to work with an empath, I briefly ponder how in the past two weeks Keith has twice pointed out that I move emotional density like an empath. Considerable doubt continues to linger in my head, but I trust Keith when he tells me it did indeed happen. 

Suddenly as Keith announces that we are going to do another empath training, I feel the energy of little Bobby jumping up and down excitedly, bouncing around in my abdomen with glee. 

“I know how to do that!” I sense Bobby exclaim as a surge of energy begins to vibrate in my tummy. 

“I want to practice.” Little bobby giggles. “I want to do the training.” 

Without even thinking, I feel intuitively guided to hold my hands in a certain position, and I immerse myself deeply into the learning process, imagining this beautiful little child as guiding me through each step. 

Fading Doubts 

“Brenda,” Keith suddenly interrupts the process. “Why don’t you try to coax little Bobby out of his chamber and ask him to help. I am getting clear guidance that he would already know how to do this type of energy moving, and that he would really enjoy the fun experience.” 

“Uh, Keith,” I giggle, “I am a little ahead of you on that one.” 

“I thought so,” Keith chuckles with acknowledgment. 

I quickly fill Keith in on what I have been doing for the last while. I love the fact that my personal guidance had already led me to this very same place prior to Keith’s inspired words. 

For most of the next hour I simply allow Bobby to show me how to move this dense emotional energy – energy that flows in undeniable strength – a flow that I experience in a very physical way. 

Many nagging doubts begin to lose their power. 

Migrating Pains – Many Meanings 

As the process nears completion, I begin to feel strong pain in my shoulders. 

“It is the fear of new responsibilities.” Keith guides me intuitively. 

Keith goes on to explain that a part of me is deeply fearful of developing new magical gifts – fearful of the burden of being a more powerful healer – fearful of having my life overwhelmed and consumed by the requests of others seeking my time and assistance.  

“Your body is trying to warn you,” Keith adds, “saying NO, STOP, don’t do it, we already have enough responsibility.” 

As the pain in my shoulders subsides, it is quickly replaced by renewed pain in the solar plexus – an area that has been pain-free for most of the last hour. 

“You are not trusting your inner child.” Keith quickly interjects. “Now that your child has shown himself to be a powerful healer, you are a little afraid of him controlling you.” 

Almost as if on cue, the pain quickly shifts to my collar bone. 

“This is your Christ Consciousness center trying to open up,” Keith again follows me, “but you are resisting.” 

As I focus on relaxing the resistance, I immediately experience a powerful flow of energy in the area of my upper heart chakra, experientially confirming Keith’s words in a delightful way. 

“This high-heart center is a major part of your future healing abilities,” Keith adds lovingly. “It is opening up even more.” 

Metaphorical Wrap-Up

As Thursday afternoon gradually fades to evening, I sit on my pillow in deep contemplation, peacefully absorbing and integrating the rapid succession of metaphorical threads that quickly unfolded this afternoon. 

From the beginning, chatter-filled meditation led me to eye-opening observations of ego, followed by powerful self-understanding regarding my God/separation drama. 

Then, as I began to raise my energy vibrations, a pompous little preacher came out onto his soap box to again remind me that I am doomed to forever fail. Following this metaphorical thread, I uncovered and released two subconscious rules that prevented me from taking back the power that I had once handed over to this religious hot-air power-parasite. 

With my inner power back where it belongs, combined with the new-found humility given to me by the grace of two frogs, I then set out on another adventure – one of asking for blending assistance from a higher being. 

Not getting what I thought I wanted, I trusted myself enough to simply follow the unfolding threads on a treasure hunt that took me on a delightful clue-filled synchronous journey with a mystical and magical little boy named Bobby. 

As I reflect on this amazing mish-mash of growth, I am peacefully overjoyed to realize that my higher-being friend is still with me, continuing his support and love, continuing to make his presence felt in my upper chest. 

I could not have asked for a more amazing day – a day that has profoundly taught me to deeply trust the process – to simply embrace the first metaphor that comes along and to follow the threads that synchronously unfold as a result. 

It seems that deep trust and self-confidence are indeed beginning to take root. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

How do you relax and integrate after three grueling days of deep emotional exploration and processing? 

Why of course, you schedule a three-hour private session for the next morning. And then you would be sure to immediately follow that up with another five or six hours of afternoon chocolate ceremony. What sane and rational individual wouldn’t do the same? 

Perhaps I really do need to question my sanity. 

A Synchronous Flow 

As I awake early on Monday morning, April 18, I feel tired and unmotivated. My heart desires to be productive, but my head loudly screams, “No, I want to simply crash and numb myself by playing mindless computer games.” 

In a rare standoff with ego, my heart actually wins as I follow strong inner guidance and quickly turn on some music, meditating in bed for an hour and a half, basking in the energizing and enchanting light of Josh Groban’s creative mastery. 

Tears frequently ebb and flow in bubbling waves – a frothy mixture of joy and grief, blended together in beautiful harmony. In one moment I bathe in profound joy at the awakening process in which I am engaged. In the next, I sink into overwhelming grief as I ponder the suffering of that shutdown child that was once me. 

Then the joy returns to stay, reminding me that this energetic shutdown is being gradually and systematically reversed in an amazing synchronous flow. 

Clueless As To Why 

My 9:00 a.m. private session with Keith begins with a beautiful discussion – a simple connection of sharing stories and experiences regarding my growth journey of the last few days. At times, I had felt as if my path was covered with loose gravel, coming dangerously close to the edge of steep cliffs, with dangerous rocks hovering below. 

Deeply sought-after closure begins to settle as Keith and I exchange our perceptive experiences about that crazy Friday afternoon when I sank into childhood and questioned my sanity. I am again immersed in a time warp – feeling as if the crazy stage-play happened yesterday while part of me whispers, “No, it was a lifetime ago.” 

“I know these types of automatic-shutdown experiences still continue to sabotage my life.” I confess to Keith. “But I am clueless as to how or why.” 

“Can you help me explore that a little? I ask humbly. 

A Metaphorical Twist 

“Let’s do explore that,” Keith immediately responds. “Close your eyes …” 

Keith again guides me through the same meditation with which I had so deeply struggled just three days ago … down a flight of stairs … strolling along a hallway … and eventually arriving at a doorway.” 

I have absolutely no trouble descending the stairs, except for the fact that those confusing stairs seem to lead on forever into the depths of the subconscious.  

“I’m never going to find the bottom of these stairs.” I begin to ponder helplessly as confusion and doubt again take hold of my arms. “Surely I should have reached the hallway long before now. I am such a stupid failure at this.” 

I continue to force myself to try seeing a hallway, to leave the staircase and begin walking … but my feelings will simply not obey. All I sense is a continuing descent of endless steps … down … down … down. 

Suddenly, I intuitively recognize a funny and amusing metaphorical twist. 

“Keith,” I interrupt my own process. “In a meditation where I intend to explore the energies of why confusion and doubt continue to shut me down in my adult life, I find it a humorous paradox that confusion and doubt are preventing me from even finding the bottom of a staircase.” 

Feels Like Bambi 

After recognizing my confusion and doubt as simply an ego loop, I eventually reach the bottom step of the metaphorical staircase and walk down a long hallway. At last I sense the presence of a doorway directly in front of me. 

As I nervously imagine myself walking through the door, I feel as if I am in limbo. There are absolutely no feelings, sensations, images or metaphors forming in my mind – just blank emptiness. 

Doubts again attempt to consume my confidence. Patiently I wait for something to intuitively manifest itself. 

“Keith,” I timidly speak, “I think I am finally sensing the presence of a large tree. I seem to be near a clearing in the woods.” 

After a short dialog with Keith, I return to meditation, increasingly growing in self-trust.

“There is a rabbit here.” I share what feels like a totally childish thought. “Now I feel a hummingbird … now there is a deer. This is silly, but it feels like Bambi.” 

A Magical Paradise 

Gradually, I begin to feel as if I am actually living in the classic Walt Disney movie “Bambi” – living in the pure innocence of those endearing forest creatures. Thumper is there and butterflies abound. Childhood purity and joy saturate the ambient air. It is an entire seen filled with joy, love, not a care in the world, and no adult interference or dogma. 

“In the trees beyond the clearing are the bad things in the ‘real-world’” I tell Keith. “There are men with guns that shoot deer, forest fires that destroy everything in their path, and dangerous predators – but here in the meadow, all is innocent and childlike. It is pure magic.” 

Stuck On The Outside 

Insights begin to freely flow – insights telling me that my childhood confusion stemmed from trying to embrace the world of magic while at the same time being forced by trusted adults to leave that magic behind in an imaginary toy chest. The pressure to embrace the ‘real’ physical world felt crazy and chaotic. 

Yes, those controlling adult voices pushed so loudly that I simply could not cope with the chaos. In the midst of my resistance, I repeatedly shut down, retreating to my safe zone in tearful outbursts, attempting to find shelter and protection back in the world of magical energies. 

While continuing this vivid meditation, I suddenly sense that a tall fence has been erected around my magical meadow. A new round or realization floods my awareness. 

“Yes, I felt so confused that I built this fence to provide that desperately sought-after shelter,” I fill Keith in, “… to keep the adults out and to give myself a place to hide.” 

I now clearly sense that the enclosure is constructed using chain-link, barbed wire, and a large supply of razor wire around the top. I was deeply desperate to protect myself from that scary outside world – a world that felt so foreign and frightening. 

“Ironically,” I explain to Keith, “I somehow seem to have gotten stuck on the outside of that invisible metaphorical fence.” 

Hopelessly Overgrown 

“But the inner voices never completely abandoned me.” I ponder while continuing to meditate. “As I found myself caught up in the citizen-factory programming, those whispers continued to speak to me. The only problem is that they were increasingly drowned-out by the overwhelming shouts of responsibility, logic, and structure.” 

I realize that in the midst of that ongoing and intense inner war, that my protective wall of confusion somehow switched roles. Now, instead of using confusion to shutdown and hide-behind in order to protect myself from having to hear the adult voices, I use confusion and doubt to prevent myself from hearing the magical whispers. 

“I grew to totally distrust the intuitive voices, firmly entrenching myself in the provable world of logical thinking,” I think to myself. “My fence became hidden and lost, hopelessly overgrown with a jungle of trees, shrubs, and weeds.” 

Always Seeking 

“Now that I am finally on a path toward awakening,” I explain to Keith, “that fence is so covered over and hidden that I feel a complete and overwhelming sense of futility.” 

“I may never find that magical place again.” I have often found myself pouting at various points in my path. “Someone up there seems to be hiding it from me.” 

“Continuously seeking but never fully finding,” seems to be the theme of frequent ego chatter – chatter reminding me that I am separate, and that God will never help me, no matter how hard I seek. 

Yes, I am seeking for that beautiful magical clearing in the woods – a meadow of innocence, occupied by Bambi, butterflies, and Thumper – but I never seem to find it. 

Frozen In Doubt 

Still deep in meditation, I now find myself standing outside this overgrown wall in the woods. I am here at last, but there is no way in. I am helplessly stuck, stifled yet again. 

At this moment, outside of my meditation, a young child begins to run through Keith’s garden. Her mother is purchasing chocolate from Isaias. At first reaction, I begin to grasp for judgment, believing the little child to be interrupting my meditation – but suddenly I remember “This is my creation, my reality.” 

Following this cleverly-provided physical-life clue, I quickly grab the hand of my own little inner child. Slowly and surely she guides me to a specific spot in the fence, pulls back some hanging vines, and reveals a hidden gate. 

I stand there, paralyzed, frozen with doubt. 

“I can’t go in there.” A voice in my head screams loudly. 

“Either I won’t be able to enter, or when I get inside there will be absolutely nothing to find.” The voice continues its internal rampage of doubt. 

An Angelic Software Engineer 

“What is that voice?” Keith quickly jumps in to help. “And where is it?” 

“It is in my heart,” I soon respond, “and it is like an old fake wizard from Kansas speaking into a loud microphone from behind a small curtain.” 

“Go into your heart and find that curtain” Keith guides me. 

I begin to cry at the thought, doubting my capacity, fearful of failure as I further listen to that insidious ego voice masquerading as me. 

“Call in your Higher Self and the angels to help you reprogram the parts of that voice that are now ready to be let go of.” Keith again coaches. 

As I immerse myself in this new task I first sense a giggling angelic presence shoveling out a portion of my heart chakra. Soon there are two. Eventually I sense the existence of a rectangular stone box. The giggling angels are utilizing chisels and tiny brushes to clear out the corners – like dinosaur excavators delicately uncovering the bones with extreme care. 

Simultaneously, I begin to feel a dancing group of angels working in my brain circuitry, joyfully and carefully rearranging energies, as if they are removing old and outdated programming from my brain cells. 

“Bring in an angelic engineer to finish the reprogramming job.” Keith coaches. 

As I do so, I have no idea what, if anything actually changes – but past experience gives me confidence to believe that this is indeed real, and that something will be different in my field when the process is complete. 

An Orange Nebula 

“I intuitively sense that the process is now complete.” I finally inform Keith. 

“Now, go back to that gate in the fence with your little girl.” Keith guides me. “Go through the gate.” 

To my amazement, as I feel myself approaching the gate, I no longer experience any fear or resistance. Suddenly, without a pause, I sense that I am being energetically pulled through the gate. I cannot stop even if I had wanted to try. 

Instead of finding a meadow with Bambi and Thumper, I find myself floating in outer space, sensing and partially visualizing a beautiful pale-orange nebula. I am floating in the nebula, being pulled … pulled … pulled. 

It is only as I later write in the present day that I begin to wonder if the color could be referring to my second chakra – that of my sexuality and creativity – one that was severely blocked during childhood. 

Floating In Peace  

Surrendering to the pulling, I eventually find myself landing on the ground in front of an old stone pyramid. It is fairly small, surrounded by trees, and overgrown by shrubs and smaller trees. Leaves and other decaying plant debris are also scattered around the surface. 

“This is my temple,” I intuitively recognize. “It is my sacred inner temple.” 

“My little girl is showing me that I still have more cleanup work to do,” I continue pondering, “but this beautiful sacred space is nearly ready to occupy.” 

Immediately, I recall a past life regression that spontaneously unfolded during a private meditation near the end of my Moon Course in my room at the Pyramids, over eleven long months ago. In that meditation, I had visually seen the exact same stone pyramid with a small stream of crisp and clear water running down the steps – a stream that had been suddenly tarnished by what felt like a bucket of mud coming from somewhere behind me. 

As this memory floods my awareness, I immediately feel myself pulled back into space. Momentarily, I visualize New York City fading into a rapidly disappearing planet earth below. It is close to the exact same visualization I had eleven months ago. 

Again, I find myself simply floating in space, overflowing with beautiful peace and joy, having absolutely nothing to do or see. 

“Your little girl has brought you here to tell you that you can simply float in this peace while trusting the process.” Keith lovingly interjects. “Just enjoy the peace and bring it into your soul.” 

For the remainder of the morning I simply sit in silent meditation, basking in the light of this incredible peace while Keith begins to prepare for a rapidly approaching afternoon ceremony. 

Another Level 

Besides Keith, only two others show up on the magical porch for the afternoon chocolate journey. I remain so overjoyed by the peace in my heart that I soon curl up on a large overstuffed pillow while Keith proceeds to engage the other two in individual inner work. 

“Your energy is really powerful today.” Keith soon congratulates me. “You are rising up on a wave that you can ride for a while.” 

Keith’s reassuring words add fuel to my meditative bliss as I further relax into the beautiful and peaceful vibrations. 

“Go up another level in awareness and consciousness.” Keith gives new guidance as I begin to sit up on my pillow. 

Rational mind has no idea how to comply with Keith’s instructions, but heart simply whispers “follow me” as I again sink deeper into the energies. 

Got The T-Shirt 

Deep realizations begin to filter into my awareness – profound insights that warm my heart and fill me with confidence. 

“My shutdown as a child has been a huge gift.” I ponder excitedly. “The absolute magnitude of my total energy blackout – a blackout that left me feeling abandoned by God and the higher energies – has made it possible for me to profoundly understand the depths of the process in a way that I will be capable of providing great assistance to others in the future.” 

“Yes,” I giggle inside, “this is the type of assistance that can only be provided by someone with a comprehensive first-hand understanding of the deep, painful, and excruciating processing, and the patience that it often takes to get through it all.” 

“I will be able to say that I have ‘been there, done that, and got the t-shirt’,” I chuckle as I ponder a metaphor that Keith often uses. 

Consumed By Curiosity 

“I’m feeling a little painful density manifesting itself in my tummy.” I share with Keith as he later inquires how I am doing. 

“Do you think I need to move this density myself?” I ask curiously, “Or might it be possible for someone like you who is an empath to simply help me move it in a less dramatic manner.” 

“Yesterday,” Keith responds, “I checked and my guidance told me that you needed to learn a new way to do it yourself.” 

“But I’m getting that we can try something different today.” Keith adds. 

Curiosity and anticipation quickly consume me. 

Being Blending  

“I want you to invite a Higher Being to join with you and to help you.” Keith continues. 

“This is not a part of your Higher Self,” Keith continues, “but is a separate being, one with whom you have been deep friends since before this lifetime – one that you knew quite well as a child.” 

Keith has my absolute attention. 

“I want you to connect with this being and blend your energy with it.” Keith finishes his guidance. “Then ask it to help you with the density. 

Unexpected Fear 

I begin to meditate alone as Keith returns to work with the other two. As I ask the being to connect with me, I immediately feel a strong connection in my heart chakra, manifesting as actual physical pressure on my body throughout the chest area. 

To my shock, I also begin to experience huge resistance and inner fear – fear that seems to haunt me – fear of connecting with something I do not yet know – fear of the implied intimacy that automatically accompanies this type of deep heart connection. 

For thirty long minutes I cycle in and out of this unbelievable and inexplicable fear – feeling terrified to fully allow this strong heart connection, wondering if I am doing it correctly, wondering if I should interrupt Keith. I am not at all surprised that Keith has not even looked in my direction for a very long time. 

“Surely he is following me.” I reassure myself. “I know him well enough to know that this feeling of abandonment, of needing to do it by myself, is actually a major part of the process – and I know that Keith knows this too.” 

Fear Of Intimacy 

When Keith finally looks in my direction, I find the courage to interrupt and describe my fear-filled journey, asking for guidance, validation, and reassurance. 

“Yes, I have been following you the whole time,” Keith confirms lovingly. 

“What you are experiencing is the fear of intimacy,” Keith fills me in. 

He goes on to clarify that I am afraid that a relationship with this being will get complicated, playing out many of my deeply-rooted relationship fears that continue to follow me around in the physical world. 

An Intimate Stare 

Keith surprises me by getting the attention of a man on the porch – a man I will simply call Mike (not his real name). 

“Mike, Connect to Brenda,” Keith guides my new friend. “Sit in front of her.

Immediately I lock eyes with Mike and begin to engage in an unbroken stare. I am determined to not be the first one who glances away

Repeatedly, mild waves of fearful tears come up and out of my eyes, slowly trickling down saturated cheeks – but I maintain my intimate eye-connection, barely even blinking. I am determined to plow through these fears. 

While doing so, I imagine that Mike’s eyes really belong to my “Higher Being Friend” – the one with whom I am still continuing to blend. The undeniable physical pressure on my chest – pressure from an unseen source – continues to remind me that this is real. 

As I maintain an intimate stare with Mike, I simultaneously feel a strong sense of inner trust building in my heart. Throughout the process I also maintain an ongoing conversation with Keith detailing everything that I feel and experience. 

I remember little if any of the words that Keith and I exchange, but I profoundly remember the emotions surrounding the deep intimacy, the flowing fears, and the flowing tears. 

Just The Right Moment 

“I feel very vulnerable and open.” I tell Keith as tears continue to trickle. 

“Great,” Keith reassures me, “just stay with it and build your trust. Allow yourself to deeply experience every feeling.” 

“This being has been your friend for a very long time,” Keith again guides me. “I have been waiting for just the right moment to introduce this process to you.” 

“You have been asking about channeling,” Keith adds, “and this is the first step in connecting with a being … building that love and trust which is all that happens at first. Depending on your relationship with this being, it may eventually turn into more communication.” 

Reversing Reminders 

Mike soon needs to leave for another appointment. We have gazed non-stop into each others eyes for nearly an hour. 

“I am still feeling this pain in my abdomen.” I remind Keith of my original question. 

“Ask the being to help you in moving it.” Keith reminds me of his original guidance. 

A Bucket Of Muck 

Feeling clueless as to how to proceed, I silently express my desire to this profound energy-friend of mine, asking if he will assist and teach me what to do. 

For a very long time, I feel stuck and doubtful, feeling nothing shift inside and feeling no intuitions regarding energy movement. 

“Release just a part of it.” Keith coaches me. 

Again I go through the motions, feeling very little. 

“There, you did it.” Keith reassures me. “What did you experience?” 

“Almost nothing at all,” I respond as I again begin to slip into my ego loop of doubt and self-created failure. 

“Dip a bucket into the muck,” Keith gives me new instructions, “and lift it out of your crown chakra.” 

“Wow I felt that.” I giggle to Keith as I use my heart to metaphorically follow Keith’s guidance. 

“Did you notice that stuff not in the bucket also followed it up and out?” Keith inquires. 

“No.” I reply feeling stupid. 

“Then do it again.” Keith prods. 

“Yes, I felt it this time.” I reply with glee. 

A Continuous Stream 

“Now, do it with your hand, without a bucket.” Keith further guides. 

“I felt it again.” I happily respond. 

“Now, just ask it to form a continuous stream.” 

To my amazement, I physically sense a stream of mild energy leaving my solar plexus, traveling delightfully up my spine, and exiting through the top of my head. 

This pleasurable sensation continues on for a while as I continue a short conversation with Keith. Soon, after realizing I had been momentarily distracted, I take note that the sensation of energy movement has completely ceased. 

Put It On Autopilot 

I explain my dilemma to Keith and again ask for his advice. Again he reminds me of his original advice. 

“Ask your higher-being friend to assist you.” Keith coaches me.  

Keith further explains that it will not happen in a “channeling way”, but will instead happen in a “channeling-love way”. To my surprise, I actually understand what he means. No words will be exchanged, but my divine friend will indeed supply help via the magic of love. 

Keith emphasizes to me that this being is not helping by acting in the role of an empath, but is instead simply an assistant to my process. 

Repeatedly I begin to feel the emotional density begin to move, but then it keeps stopping when I get distracted. 

“Put it on autopilot mode.” Keith provides what now seems to be obvious advice. 

Channel Dabble 

Throughout the remainder of our Monday afternoon ceremony, Keith and I engage in a beautiful conversation about my ongoing journey of intuitive inner work. All through the conversation, I continue to monitor the energy movement beginning in the solar plexus and flowing out my crown. To my delight, the flow continues without my need to consciously mange or control. 

I begin to beg for more understanding from Keith regarding higher beings with whom I can connect and blend. Keith loving reminds me of what I already know and understand – that lower-energy astral beings are not going to waste their time connecting with me unless I put out a specific request and intent. As long as my intentions are pure and loving with a desire to seek out the light, I will not be bothered by such entities at all. 

“Your mother is very proud of you.” Keith unexpectedly shares during the heart of our discussion. 

Keith then guides me in establishing my own brief personal connection with my deceased mother’s essence. Again, a few doubts buzz around my head like annoying mosquitoes, 

I’m not quite sure what I experience. My intuitions are not developed enough to fully understand, but I do indeed feel intuitively that she is very peaceful in her ongoing journey in another dimension. 

Our discussion continues to dabble in a myriad of directions related to channeling, but sadly enough, I am so new to the topic that I mentally retain only fragments of Keith’s loving words. 

Late-Night Blending 

Later that evening, after a quick flurry of note-taking and rice-and-beans, I immerse myself in the Walt Disney classic, Bambi. The movie is not a perfect match for my memories, but remains a beautiful and very useful metaphor for my processing.  

As I prepare for bed, I first decide to try another go at blending with my new friend, the unnamed higher being. To my delight, I experience a beautiful flow of energies throughout my entire body – energies that are both pleasurable and peaceful. 

But to my dismay, it seems that this energy blend does not resolve the ongoing cloudiness in my third-eye chakra. It seems that there is yet more emotional work to be done on another day. 

Back To The Future 

This morning as I began writing about that beautiful Monday nearly six weeks ago, I was filled with an inspired thought while documenting how Josh Groban’s music had electrified me early that morning. 

I rarely listen to music while I write – mostly because I am so immersed in what I am doing that I don’t want to be distracted – but today I break with routine, following inner guidance to cue up all four of my Josh Groban albums, allowing them play softly in the background. 

Suddenly, a very profound feeling tells me “Turn the volume up and listen … NOW!” 

The song is one written and performed by Don McLean in 1971 – one that I loved during those troubled High School years. I never fully understood the significance of the words, but something about the song energetically tugged at my heartstrings. 

In 2001, during another extremely difficult period of my life, a dear friend excitedly introduced me to a new version of the same song as sung by Josh Groban. Immediately I fell in love, again not connecting so much with the words as with the energy of the song. From that day onward, I became an avid fan of this amazing male vocalist and his debut album. 

Today while writing up a storm, as the song “Vincent” (frequently called Starry, Starry Night) begins to play loudly in my field, I pay deep and close attention to the words. 

Now I Understand 

Suddenly, I regress again to the desperate struggle through which I myself passed as a child – the very shutdown that I continue to process in so many profound ways. As a child, desperately wanting to be heard and understood, I finally gave up in a battle – a battle for permission to be different and unique – a battle that seemed futile and hopeless. 

Following is a selection of a few words that profoundly touched my heart – words that I now imagine myself lovingly singing to that lost and frightened little boy that was me. 

…
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now

…
For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you 

…
Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will…

Yes, my dear sweet child did indeed suffer for his sanity. He tried to talk back to his parents but simply ended up being more confused and shut down. After desperately seeking pure unconditional love and understanding, he finally gave up in despair by committing “energetic” suicide – seeing no other possibility of fitting in and being understood in a society that would not listen. 

Yes, I believe that “Now I Understand” what my little child so desperately wanted to say, both to me and to others. 

Vincent 

Vincent Van Gogh died on July 29, 1890. At only 37 years of age, he briefly survived a self-inflicted gunshot wound to the chest, but passed-away two days later as complications took their toll. For much of his life Vincent struggled with his so-called sanity, having self-committed himself to an asylum for most of the final year of his life. His famous painting “A Starry Night” was painted while behind those locked doors. 

Vincent released himself from the asylum a couple of months before his death, stating that he believed his doctor to be sicker than he was. 

I know that this song was written by someone else more than eighty years after Vincent Van Gogh’s death, and I myself know very little of substance regarding his life, but even so, I wonder if perhaps Vincent too was deeply struggling with an inability to survive in a society that would not allow him to be different and unique – a society that demanded that he too must be a programmed citizen. 

Following are the full lyrics to this beautiful song.
 

Vincent (also called Starry, Starry Night)
Written by Don McLean in 1971
Performed by Don McLean, and later by Josh Groban 

Starry, starry night
Paint your palette blue and grey
Look out on a summer’s day
With eyes that know the darkness in my soul
Shadows on the hills
Sketch the trees and daffodils
Catch the breeze and the winter chills
In color on the snowy linen land 

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now 

Starry, starry night
Flaming flowers that brightly blaze
Swirling clouds and violet haze
Reflect in Vincent’s eyes of china blue
Colors changing hue
Morning fields of amber grain
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist’s loving hand 

Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They did not know how
Perhaps they’ll listen now 

For they could not love you
But still your love was true
And when no hope was left inside
On that starry, starry night
You took your life as lovers often do
But I could have told you Vincent
This world was never meant for one as beautiful as you 

Like the strangers that you’ve met
The ragged men in ragged clothes
The silver thorn of bloody rose
Lie crushed and broken on the virgin snow 

Now I think I know
What you tried to say to me
And how you suffered for your sanity
And how you tried to set them free
They would not listen
They’re not listening still
Perhaps they never will.
 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Saturday morning, on the day after an incredible experiential adventure into the actual shutdown of my own inner magic, I enter a meditation with that beautiful little boy of my childhood. 

“You were indeed the only sane one back then.” I repeatedly and lovingly reassure him. 

Over and over again, I send my deepest love and apologies for the pain through which he was required to pass, reminding him that he was right all along. 

A Right-Angle Turn 

Suddenly, the process takes a wild turn in a completely unexpected direction. Rather than further consoling that lonely child of so long ago, I end up regressing deeply into the pain that he felt, sinking again into the inexplicable confusion he experienced when being told by parents and church leaders that he needed to think and behave in a certain way – a way that greatly differed from the inner whisperings of his own heart. 

The emotions are so overwhelming and powerful that I cannot seem to extract myself back to present-day reality. An attempt at writing quickly becomes an act of futility. I am rebellious and tired so I surrender and go back to bed, sleeping for most of the remaining daylight hours. Finally, I do manage enough strength and motivation to at least watch a movie on my computer. 

Depression eventually consumes my entire Saturday. Yes, I do succeed in eating three meals and drinking a little water, but other than food and a movie, the entire day disappears into a black hole. Saturday night also fades into the same darkness. 

A Deep Hole 

Sunday morning begins much the same, but by mid-morning I at least motivate myself to study a little Spanish. 

As I walk onto Keith’s porch, feeling dead to the world, I am greeted by a smile. 

“Congratulations,” Keith tells me proudly as he gives me a quick welcome hug. 

“For what?” I ask glumly. 

“Well, you wrote me such a beautiful email on Friday night that I assumed …” Keith begins to expound.

“That was Friday night,” I interrupt, grinning and frowning at the same time. 

I briefly fill him in on the deep hole in which I now find myself trapped; it is a place of stuck-ness, depression, and inability to move forward. 

Angry At God 

“Brenda,” Keith speaks unexpectedly as the ceremony gets underway, “your guides are sympathetic with your pain, but they are sorry to inform you that there is more that you must learn before you can be free of this childhood pain. There is something more that you must uncover and deal with first.” 

“In your left hand, imagine your pure, genuine and happy child.” Keith gives me a little nudge of guidance. “In your right hand, hold the suppression received from your parents, and the suppression that you did to your own children.” 

“Sit with it,” Keith continues, “feel and experience both sides … explore your emotions for a while.” 

I begin to whimper as I delve deeper into the suppression side. I continue to feel so shutdown, so helpless, and so futile. 

“I’ve been stuck back in the darkness ever since Saturday morning.” I remind Keith. “I feel unable to free myself … in fact I am feeling quite rebellious, as if I don’t even want to try to pull myself out of this … like I deserve to be trapped down here.” 

“Brenda,” Keith nudges me further, “you are deeply immersed back in your God/separation drama … you are angry at God.” 

Something Else 

Keith proceeds to tell me a few personal stories about his own childhood shutdown process – realizations that he came to, struggles through which he passed. His beautiful loving words give me a great deal of comfort, helping me to find increased compassion for myself, increased self-love and decreased self-judgment for again being so stuck in darkness. 

“Is my own situation like what you just shared with me?” I ask Keith curiously. 

“That is not where we are going today.” Keith lovingly redirects. “Your guides want you to discover something else.” 

The Pleasing Game 

As I sink deeper into meditation, I finally begin to access anger – anger at God for allowing me to be so brutally shutdown (energetically of course) – anger at my mother for being the primary architect of that loving programming – and anger at my father for having modeled a manner of being much more intellectual than emotional – and anger at myself for doing the same thing to my own children. 

I recall frequent and countless times in my childhood where my mouth was washed out with soap, or where I was spanked on the butt with a hand or a belt. I remember the mouthy rebellions, fighting back at being forced to do things, at being forced to embrace ways of being that didn’t feel right or make sense to me. 

Again, I have no physical memory of exactly what I was rebelling against, but I strongly remember the profound emotions of feeling rebellious, desperately misunderstood, and having to helplessly surrender to the will of those in authority. After all, they were my parents, they were bigger, they knew more, and as most children do, I saw my parents as knowing everything, as being akin to God. 

Like a good little child, I knew my parents were right and that I must be wrong. I suppressed my evil feelings of rebellion and soon learned to be happy by playing the pleasing game. 

Inner Arguments 

“How does a child feel when they are psychically abused,” Keith asks pointedly, “when they have no voice to defend themselves?” 

I now deeply understand why I have always had an innate feeling of:  “I just want to be understood and loved for who I am.” 

For most of my life, I have believed that such a deeply rooted desire to be understood only originated with my recognition of gender struggle in my early teens, but now I vividly recognize it as already existing at around age six. 

As I look at my first and second grade photos, I see and feel a sad and depressed little boy. I recall strong, vivid memories of how I felt while posing for those photos. I clearly remember being horrified by the thought that I might smile wrong, being profoundly self-conscious about my ugly appearance, of the fear that I would not fit in unless I could put on a proper outward appearance.  

“But I remember being happy as a child.” I argue with myself. “My parents loved me, I had everything I wanted, I obeyed, I played with friends and siblings, and we did many fun activities as a family.” 

“Yes, on the outside I appeared to be quite happy.” I remind myself with certainty. “I did everything to please my parents …, but if I am truly honest with myself, I also have powerful memories of an underlying thread of sadness and self-doubt, of never really fitting in – of absolutely knowing that I would not be loved if people knew the real me.” 

Overwhelming Anger – Overwhelming Nausea 

Again I begin to focus on the self-anger – the anger at myself for having thrust the same love-motivated shutdown process onto my own beautiful children. The very religious doctrines that I helped to teach them in their formative years are now the beliefs that cause them to struggle with fully accepting me today. We all know that a deep bond of love joins us together, yet a deep religious canyon keeps us awkwardly apart.

As I further slip into the anger, both inward and outward, profound nausea again consumes me. I desperately want to vomit. I even slip quietly into the bathroom in an attempt to gag, wanting to force myself to get this emotion out of me in some physical way. 

While in this process, I overhear portions of a muffled conversation. 

“Is Brenda OK?” a female voice asks Keith. 

“Yes, don’t worry about her,” I hear Keith reply, “I am keeping close track of her process, and I already have a plan to work with her.” 

I smile inside as I step back onto the porch, returning to my seat, having been unsuccessful in my attempts at physical release, still feeling overwhelming nausea of the emotional variety. 

A Useful Metaphor 

Soon, I dare to gather a few foam cushions and take a few swipes at them with my fist. The putrid life-choking anger is so deeply buried and stuck that I cannot seem to access it. 

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith acknowledges, “the anger IS stuck, but you cannot release it that way today.  

“Come up with a metaphor to help you release just a few drops of it.” Keith soon guides me. 

After a few minutes I am still so mind-boggled and cloudy that I have not felt capable of thinking up a single metaphor. I am not even sure that I understand what Keith wants me to do. 

“Will you please help me or give me a hint of some type of metaphor to use?” I beg Keith. 

“See that huge water tank over there?” Keith points at a large storage tank on his property. 

“Use that metaphor.” 

Subconscious Symbolism 

I totally understand that the subconscious mind does not function in the rational-mind arena. Instead, as Carl Jung taught, the subconscious mind communicates with the conscious world using symbols, images, and metaphors. As we work with those metaphors, we are actually working with real energies in our subconscious. These symbols and images allow our rational mind to interact with subconscious energies in a way that allows us to bridge the communication gap. 

It is as if rational-mind speaks English and the subconscious speaks some ancient form of hieroglyphics, long forgotten to the educated world. 

I am anxious to move on with my process, utilizing a brand new metaphor – one that I hope will help me release some of the deep nausea and pain that plague me. 

The Water Tank 

I envision myself as having a large water tank in my body – a tank filled with putrid, unexpressed, and bottled-up toxic anger. At the bottom of the tank is a tiny faucet. 

Deep in meditation, I feel myself approaching the tank while holding the plastic cup from which I earlier drank my chocolate. I casually place the cup below the tiny faucet and gently turn the handle – just barely enough to allow a few drops of toxin to ooze out into the pink cup. 

As I try to imagine pouring these disgusting drops onto the ground I experience a powerful and surprising reaction. Panic and fear immediately consume me, causing me to freeze in terror. Within seconds I am crying profusely and my belly is shaking. 

Finally, as I face these inexplicable fears, I force myself to imagine myself pouring this tiny amount of toxic waste out onto the pure soil of Mother Earth. 

Disgusting Discarded Toxins 

Slowly, I walk back to the tank, this time filling my glass up to half full. Again I experience the same tear-inducing terror. Again I finally force myself to pour the putrid solution out onto unspoiled earth. 

Over and over, I repeat the same process, each time pushing through the fears – each time checking in with Mother Earth to make sure that what I am doing is OK, that she is not being poisoned. 

After what must be at least ten repeats of this slow process, I even visualize myself pouring a few drops onto a flower to verify that I am indeed not harming the earth. To my surprise, I feel the flower grow bigger and stronger. In fact, as I look around in my meditative world, I sense the presence of flowers growing in every previous hole in which I have discarded the disgusting toxins. 

Speed It Up 

Even with repeated success, each and every act of pouring this toxic anger onto the earth triggers deep fear in my soul. 

“How are you doing, Brenda?” Keith soon asks. 

“Really, well,” I begin as I fill him in on my metaphorical journey, “but it seems to be an extremely slow and tedious process.” 

“Find a way to speed it up.” Keith gives me an obvious hint. 

A Light Show 

After a few minutes of pondering, I come up with what feels like a clever idea. I imagine a small garden hose hooked up to my belly button. With the power of my imagined intention, I ask the toxic anger to flow directly out of my belly button, through the hose, and into the earth, without needing my constant intervention to manage it. 

Almost immediately, I find myself back seated on the edge of a bottomless pit with my little inner child, Sharon – a place that metaphorically entered our lives just a few weeks ago. We are both seated on lawn chairs while we giggle and watch the waste disappear down the deep dark hole. Surprise and delight consume us both as we begin to see flashes of bright light in the depths below. The density is transmuting into pure light, gradually beginning to fill this bottomless pit with loving energies. 

Simultaneously, I begin to imagine that the empty space in my large storage tank is also being replaced with light and love. 

Hoover Dam 

Suddenly an overwhelming image pops into my mind. I see all of Lake Mead backed up behind Hoover Dam. I am standing at the bottom of the dam with my hose, attempting to drain an entire reservoir of emotional density through a tiny garden hose. 

A sense of futility begins to consume me as I am metaphorically shown how much density continues to be stored in my energetic field. I quickly imagine that my garden hose is upgraded to a fire hose. 

I can actually feel the flow in a very physical way as a sensation of agitated energy pours out of my abdomen. It is tingly and active, definitely moving from inside to out. Occasionally I experience what seem like temporary clogs. Rather than trying to push anything, I simply observe, waiting for them to clear, allowing the energy to drain at its own pace. 

Spotlight Of Energy 

“Bring in an angel with an advanced engineering degree.” Keith soon interrupts with a clever metaphor. “Ask that angel to design and create a faster flow system for your densities.” 

Soon, I am feeling an increased flow of energy, approximately eight inches in diameter, leaving my abdomen from slightly left of center. The physical sensation is both weird and amazing. 

As I passively observe, I experience considerable dancing and movement in and around the belly button area – much of it being quite painful – all of it definitely flowing noticeably faster. I literally feel as if I have a small spotlight of powerful energy bursting out of my abdomen, rushing out and down into the earth, arching into the depths of my bottomless pit. 

Firework Show 

“Go get your little girl and tell me what she thinks of this process.” Keith guides me. 

“I already have her sitting in the lawn chair beside me,” I respond with a giggle, “and she really likes it. She is happy and excited by what I am doing. The light show in the depths of the pit is like a huge display of fireworks, entertaining us both.” 

For more than an hour, my little Sharon and I simply sit on lawn chairs while a large spotlight of toxic energy spews out of my body, creating a fascinating firework show below. 

Heart Power 

“Brenda, how much of your reservoir have you drained?” Keith finally asks. 

“It feels like about thirty percent,” I respond intuitively with the first figure that flashes into my mind. 

For much of yet another hour, I again merely observe while frequently inviting my angelic-engineer to adjust the flow, gradually increasing over time. 

 “Speed it up by engaging your heart center.” The now-obvious thought finally floods my mind. 

Almost immediately after fully engaging my heart, I physically experience the increased flow of energy, and to my delight, it is also much less painful. 

Trusting Higher Self 

As sundown rapidly approaches and people begin to scatter from Keith’s magical porch, intuitions tell me that I am about ninety-eight percent done. Finally, a few minutes later, the magical completion number floods my intuitions. 

“Keith,” I inquire with a puzzled tone, “I now feel that I am one-hundred percent done in draining that reservoir of toxic anger – but my abdomen still hurts a little. Is there anything else I need to do tonight?” 

Intuitively I know the answer without needing to hear Keith’s words – words that backup exactly what I feel. 

“No Brenda,” Keith lovingly replies. “It is time to go home, to integrate, and to write. If there is more to do, it will come up later.” 

And then Keith says something that deeply reassures me in my process. 

“Your Higher Self will not let anything go undone.” Keith adds. “If you miss something today, you can be sure that it will come up again later.” 

A Tightly Wrung Rag 

As I go to bed early and exhausted on Sunday evening, I begin to work on relaxing the blockages in my head. 

Intuitively, I am drawn to imagine an old rag in my head – as if it had been tightly twisted in an effort to wring out all the water after doing laundry. But I instinctively know that this rag represents the muscles in my head – muscles that are tightly wrung and twisted in an attempt to squeeze out every last drop of energy flow. Somehow I know this is what happened – that my little inner child literally clenched every possible muscle in a desperate effort to restrict the flow of divine energies – in an effort to stop the magical energies that got her into so much trouble during the shutdown process. 

To my amazement, as I imagine myself actually untwisting this metaphorical rag, I begin to feel a considerable flow of healing energy tingling in my head, neck, and upper chest – as if it is forming the beginnings of an energy connection that will join my head and heart together in cooperative partnership. 

This magical tingling process takes me deeper and deeper into relaxation as exhaustion and tiredness gradually transform into dancing sleep. 

I love how each little step of the emotional release process always seems to bring with it a new treasure, a new experience, and a glimpse of new energy possibilities. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Trepidation and hesitation sit on the daybed surrounding me. As I attempt to write today, a feeling of cloudiness clogs my mind, taunting me, predicting that I will fail, cruelly reminding me that there is no way I can capture what I wish to convey in a concise, loving, and helpful manner.  

I face a very difficult task. 

Friday, April 15 was one of these extremely traumatic days – a day of near-emotional meltdown in which I sank into a state of such confusion and memory lapse that even to this day I am not quite certain what really took place on that crazy afternoon. Even scarier is the thought of reopening the lid to those chaotic emotions; for in the past two days I have come to realize that what happened that day continues to push fearful emotional triggers. 

“What will happen if I go back down in there to write about this?” A very real part of me panics. “Will I get stuck in there? Might there still be other scorpions hiding in those scary depths, just waiting to creep up and sting me when I least expect it?”

Of course I have to share the story through my own eyes – through the perceptions of what became a frightened little child who regressed into a very deep state of attack, defensiveness, and confusion – a cornered little child that desperately just wanted to be heard and understood.

But I must also attempt to capture the story through the eyes of others – through the eyes of Keith and a couple of friends who shared space with me on that magical porch nearly six weeks ago. Their memories vary considerably from my own, causing me to seriously question the truth of my reality – causing me to seriously question my own perceptual sanity. 

And now, we journey back six weeks in time, to a porch long long ago … 

Goodbye To Joy 

That beautiful Friday in the middle of April begins quite innocently, with a 7:00 a.m. walk to the dock, accompanying my dear friend Joy as she boards a morning boat to Panajachel. She too is saying goodbye, flying home to resume her other life. I will love being alone again – having the time to write without interruptions, but I will also deeply miss the companionship of someone whom I have grown to love. 

I love you Joy! 

A Detached Observer 

As it always continues to astound me, the people who show up on Keith’s porch for the Friday afternoon ceremony seem to have been personally handpicked by my Higher Self. It is a very small group – three casual male friends plus me, and then Keith of course.  

As occasionally happens, this is one of those days where the first ninety minutes of group becomes consumed by what my rational-mind wants to classify as ‘wasted conversation’, with the last half of that conversation focusing on various aspects of channeling as seen from a left-brain perspective. 

Silently, I observe a rising state of inner frustration while at the same time I lovingly question why I might be creating such a reality. 

Setting The Tone 

Finally, at shortly before 2:00 p.m., Keith shifts gears. 

“Brenda, how are you doing?” Keith turns first to me. 

“I’m just watching myself, feeling a lot of painful density in my abdomen, wondering why I might be creating such a long drawn-out discussion about channeling.” I respond. “Perhaps I wanted to learn more about it from an intellectual angle.” 

“Gee, Brenda,” Keith adds with a strange grin. “I wonder why we are doing so much talking today.” 

In retrospect, this initial delay is meaningless in content, but it sets the stage in very powerful way. 

Because of my desire to understand how I create my own reality, I enter the heart of the ceremony with a deeply curious mind – a mind that is fully focused on the concept that everything taking place on this porch is created and designed by me – designed to trigger and heal in ways that I could never possibly plan at a conscious level. 

The Process Begins 

“My abdomen is really stirred up again.” I explain to Keith after my initial comments. “I would really love to figure out this ongoing metaphor.” 

“I’m beginning to wonder if this is just some physical reaction from the chocolate.” I momentarily speculate. “It has been consistently happening for a very long time now. How could so much emotional pain continue to remain in my lower chakras, even after all the tears I have shed this week? 

“But I know in my heart that it is emotional and not physical pain.” I continue sharing with Keith. “Perhaps I simply need to discount and ignore the pain, refusing to entertain these silly doubts.” 

“No Brenda,” Keith interrupts quite forcefully. “Do not ignore the pain!” 

I note that Keith’s manner is almost harsh and uncharacteristically pushy and challenging. In fact I am quite shocked by the force of his response. To me it feels almost bullying and confrontational. After dismissing my initial reaction of shock, I immediately recognize that Keith must be following my energy, and that he is about to teach me something very powerful.  

The flip side, however, is that I quickly sink into and get deeply lost in the subsequent process that gradually unfolds as Keith begins to talk. 

An Innocent Request 

I am listening and literally hear every word, yet I honestly cannot remember what Keith just barely told me. I am so shocked by his tone and delivery, and so caught up in my sudden and delightful realization that he is simply following my energy, that the actual content of his message has completely evaporated from my mind. Every single word is mysteriously missing from my memory. 

“Could you please repeat what you just said?” I ask innocently. 

“Why are you being so resistant, Brenda?” Keith dismisses my harmless request for clarification. 

“I’m just asking you to repeat what you just told me.” I again beg. “I honestly can’t remember what it was.” 

Keith then unleashes a barrage of what I perceive as ranting and criticism, saying things like: “Why are you so stuck in your head?” … “You heard me the first time, why are you refusing to cooperate?” … “Quit interrupting me Brenda and just hear me out.” … and “Why are you arguing with me? 

I attempt to respond to each statement – to simply restate my innocent intentions – to defend my honor – to beg for him to listen to what I am really trying to ask – to plead for a chance to be heard and understood. 

Yet Keith interrupts and cuts me off forcefully at every turn, continuing to sternly lean toward my face, confronting me, seemingly twisting my every statement into the opposite of what I am trying to say without allowing me to defend or explain. 

In a matter of a minute or two, I have unexpectedly slipped from a state of empowered clarity into one of deep shock, defensiveness, and confusion.  

Crazy-Making 

“Why is he chiding me?” I struggle silently, feeling helpless and beaten down. “I feel as if he is manipulating me … confusing everything I say … discounting my feelings … and making me feel crazy.” 

With all of my heart, I know I am innocent. My original request for Keith to simply repeat what he had said was genuine and simple. I just want the opportunity to explain myself, to be heard, to be understood, and to be respected. Instead I am being scolded and verbally abused. 

“I know I don’t deserve any of this.” I think to myself. “Yet Keith does seem to be urgently and deeply concerned about me – desperately trying to get his message through to me – desperately and forcefully attempting to get me to see the light as he sees it. 

There must be something I am missing, some reason he is doing this, something critical going on inside of me to which I am turning a blind and confused eye. After all, Keith is my teacher and my friend. I trust him with my life. He would never hurt me. He has my best interest at heart … at least I believe that he does. It must be ME that is somehow wrong. 

I feel as if I am going insane, being made out to be crazy. Nothing makes any sense whatsoever. 

Finally I simply lower my tear-filled face and submit to Keith’s authority. 

“He must have a reason for what he is doing.” I again console myself. 

A Buried Pattern 

As soon as I submit and surrender, finally giving up in all attempts at being understood, Keith unexpectedly starts in a new direction. 

“Brenda, you have emptied some deeply intense containers of emotional density lately,” Keith begins to guide me, “and those containers shocked you at their pain and power.” 

“What you are feeling in your belly now, however, is NOT another container.” Keith continues. “Instead, it is the current pattern that you run that created these containers in the first place – a pattern of ignoring and then pushing down all of this painful density, and of then putting a lid on top to bottle it up.” 

“Today we are not going to release another container,” Keith surprises me again. “We are going to work on the pattern that created and continues to create all of these containers, even now. That is why you have built up so many containers over the decades. This pattern that was established as a child is still in operation and needs to be discovered, uprooted, and released.” 

Keith goes on to explain that I have a lifelong pattern of using confusion and not hearing things, of not being able to understand things, and of creating a diversion of tearfully shutting down so that I can avoid reality and things that I cannot deal with. 

An Informational Flashback 

Almost immediately a memory flashes into my mind – a memory from around 2001 – a memory from a time in my post-transition life where everything around me seemed to be emotionally crumbling. I was a dedicated volunteer at a local hospital – working not only at the information desk but also as the secretary to the volunteer board. My busy life was stretched in countless different directions. One day the volunteer director came to me and asked if she could train me on a simple new procedure to register hospital patrons in a series of classes. 

To my shock, rather than smiling and saying “yes”, I instead broke down in tears as if in a nervous breakdown. I had so much pain and confusion going on in my life that the thought of one more responsibility pushed me into complete shutdown. I could not deal with anything else, even something so simple. 

As I ponder further, I remember countless other times in my life where new responsibility and information was met with confusion, emotion, avoidance, and forgetfulness. 

Confusing Manipulative Chaos 

Keith begins to guide me into a meditation – a very familiar meditation designed to take me deeper into the subconscious realms. I have done this many times before, but the experience today feels annoyingly different. 

In my perception, Keith talks loudly and nonstop, not giving me any time in which to calm my mind and actually complete the meditation. 

When Keith finally finishes guiding me down a flight of stairs, along a hallway, and up to a door, I feel as if I am barely on the first few steps of the staircase. I am in such a state of shutdown that I cannot even visualize myself walking down a flight of stairs. 

“Keith, I feel like you were talking and repeating so many statements so loudly that I couldn’t concentrate or follow you.” I confess, feeling stupid for my admission. 

“Brenda,” Keith emphasizes lovingly but firmly, “I guided the meditation today exactly as I always do it … there was nothing different.” 

My mind is frazzled and confused. I trust Keith’s reassurance – and he later tells me the same thing several more times – but in that moment the only reality I can see is one of confusing manipulative chaos. 

The Third Step 

“How are you doing Brenda?” Keith again asks me after giving me another minute or two to meditate in silence. 

“I’m still trying to walk further down the steps,” I reply with doubt and frustration, “but I feel as if I am not going anywhere, and am totally unable to focus and concentrate, unable to trust myself.” 

“Go back up to the top and just walk down a few steps at a time.” Keith lovingly coaches me. 

I follow Keith’s instructions and imagine myself going down three steps before encountering a feeling of intense fear and emotional shutdown. 

“Stop right there and simply feel where you are at.” Keith patiently guides. 

Emotions swell inside. I begin to whimper, desperately wishing I could cry harder. Deep fear consumes me as the gut-wrenching sobs suddenly burst forth, accompanied by intense nausea and a repeat of dry-heaves.  

This panic and emotion is crazy, indescribable, and unexplainable. It comes in waves, increasing and decreasing in intensity. 

“When I begin to calm myself I am fine,” I explain to Keith. “But as soon as I attempt to bring in the higher energies I start to hit this intense emotion every …” 

“Stop!” Keith interrupts me abruptly. 

“Stop trying to calm yourself.” Keith guides me with love. “Go into the emotion and feel it. Talk about your progress as you do it. 

For nearly forty-five minutes I do nothing but sit on that imaginary third step, in and out of emotional waves, talking through each intense burst of emotion and fear. 

Bottomless Staircase 

Finally, I get the courage to attempt another step down the imaginary staircase. But each time that I try, a feeling of absolute panic consumes me, causing me to stop and cry some more while still on the third step. 

“I think I am afraid of what I might find,” I tell Keith after pondering for a few minutes. “I’m afraid that I might find out that my whole life has been a lie, based on untruths “ 

Finally I imagine my little inner child Sharon grabbing my right hand, with my Higher Self taking my left, supporting me with their love and higher energies, giving me the courage to go on. 

Repeatedly we take a few more steps down and then pause. Confusion and doubt again begin to consume me as I realize that there seems to be no bottom to this flight of stairs. As I continuously search for the hallway that will take me to the next part of the meditation, the only thing I can feel is more steps headed downward. 

Through it all, Keith continues to be patient and supportive, quietly waiting for me to complete what he describes as a trust-building process. 

Floating Hallway 

“I finally feel myself in the hallway.” I happily tell Keith. “But as I start to walk down it, I feel as if am floating along instead.” 

I am so immersed in bewildering doubt and rational mind that I am deeply confused, struggling to believe my intuitions, not trusting anything that is taking place. Ego is desperately taunting me, telling me that this entire meditation is a huge joke, a figment of my imagination. 

One thing is absolutely certain. If I were doing this meditation by myself, without Keith’s guidance, I would have given up long ago, walking away and throwing up my hands in distrust, disgust, and frustration. I never would have even made it to the third step. 

Finally, I intuitively sense that Sharon, my Higher Self, and I are standing in front of a doorway. 

“I think I am finally at the door.” I tell Keith with relief, still doubting myself. 

Container Farm 

As I step through the imaginary door with Higher Self and Sharon, I initially feel a state of absolute nothingness. 

“Well,” Keith inquires, “What do you find or see inside?” 

Finally, I feel as if I am standing by a huge white container of emotional density. A submarine-like hatch remains closed on the top. 

“As I look around further,” I exclaim to Keith, “I suddenly feel the presence of hundreds if not thousands of such containers arranged in a huge geometric array all around me.” 

I am terrified by the thought that these containers could each be filled with an unlimited supply of unreleased emotional density. Even the idea of opening just one of the containers brings a feeling of sheer terror. 

Job Well Done 

Imagine my surprise when I finally find the courage to turn the wheel and open the hatch. Inside is nothing but a large empty container with white walls. Quickly I open another, and another with the same peaceful result. The next one contains a small stone in the corner. 

“Transmute the stone.” Keith quickly guides me. 

“I can’t seem to do it.” I respond, after trying for a minute or two. “No matter what I do, it feels as if it is still there.” 

“Then give it to your Higher Self.” Keith continues. “What happens to it now?” 

“It simply dissolves into nothingness.” I respond with a grin. 

“Open all of the rest of the containers and magically have their contents pile up in front of you.” Keith goes on. “What is there?” 

“Very little,” I respond with great relief, “not much at all. I get the feeling that I have already successfully released most, if not all, of the stuff in these visible containers. I also feel as if the Universe is congratulating me on a job well done.” 

“Now transmute all of the containers themselves.” Keith guides me. 

A few minutes later, I feel as if this entire array of mostly-empty containers has vanished. It is only later when I realize that this container farm was here to receive new density that has not yet been stored away. 

“It looks as if my fears about these containers were all for nothing.” I conclude happily. 

Shutting Down … Big Time 

Again, I feel extremely doubtful and confused, as if this is all totally stupid and fabricated with my mind, as if I am making it all up with wishful thinking and that it is all merely childish fantasy. 

In that same instant, I feel as if I am beginning to shut down energetically – as if all of the power of my heart is being sucked out of me. 

“Brenda, is your little girl still there?” Keith quickly inquires. 

“Yes,” I reply. 

“Connect with her, NOW!” Keith coaches me. “What is happening?” 

“I feel her feeding me with divine energy.” I reply weakly, still struggling to not shut down completely. 

“Where is the energy going?” Keith follows up. 

“To my heart … but then it weakens and simply stops,” I reply, feeling exhausted. 

“Brenda, connect with her again!” Keith guides me with a sense of urgency. 

I feel her beginning to fill up my heart, but the energy again fizzles. 

“Brenda, where is your Higher Self?” Keith asks with a tone of urgency. “Connect with it … what is happening?” 

Again, I feel a little more energy on my left side and some in my head, but it begins to fizzle and fade away. No matter how much I attempt to focus, I cannot maintain these divine connections … I am fading away and drifting. 

“Connect again.” Keith orders me. “What is happening?” 

I feel a little energy trying to flow in my neck, but it is not lasting. 

“Brenda, you are shutting down.” Keith proclaims. “Bring in more light. This is exactly what you do when you get so confused and you don’t trust yourself. You shut down and disconnect from the energies … now bring in more light … bring in more energy from Sharon and your Higher Self.” 

Sinking in Futility 

“It all feels so futile.” I explain through tear-filled eyes. 

“Where is the futility that is stopping you located?” Keith again follows up. 

“It is in my tummy.” 

“Where is the futility?” Keith pushes. 

“I can’t tell; but it kind of feels like it must be in my tummy.” 

“Where is it?” Keith again digs deeper. 

I ponder for a few minutes before I finally experience a sharp pain in my heart. 

“It is in my heart.” I finally answer with more clarity. 

“Now you are getting somewhere.” Keith responds happily. 

Surrender To The Futility 

I sidestep in and out of this futile feeling for what must be at least twenty minutes. Deep helplessness consumes me as I repeatedly attempt to bring in more light, only to sink back into a feeling of helpless futility. 

Back and forth, I try and then give up, repeatedly beginning to feel a glimmer of hope only to sink back into emptiness. I am totally out of control. 

“What will your Higher Self do if you surrender to this futility?” Keith inquires. 

“My Higher Self will love me and allow me to come back and do it all over again in another lifetime.” I respond with clarity. 

“What will Higher Self do?” Keith again asks. 

“Support me in whatever I do.” I reply again with confidence. 

“Surrender to the futility.” Keith gives me bizarre guidance. “Go ahead and shut down, lose yourself in the shutdown.” 

“I don’t want to.” I respond quickly. 

“I am trying to understand if you are serious about me doing this,” I continue after a minute of pondering about Keith’s bizarre behavior, “or if you are playing devil’s advocate, trying to push me with reverse psychology.” 

“Do you really want me to surrender and shut down?” I ask with deep confusion. 

Keith snaps sharply at me, telling me to quit questioning him with my mind and to just do what he asks. I am shocked that he suddenly seems to have shifted back into a strong manipulation and domineering control mode. 

Continued Craziness 

“I’m just trying to understand what you want me to do so I can better follow your directions.” I respond feebly, feeling even more confused. 

“Quit trying to understand!” Keith barks at me. “Just do it.” 

I perceive his tone as being deeply frustrated, and I again enter an even deeper state of shutdown. His crazy-making is really making me think I actually am crazy. 

I try to comply with Keith’s wishes, but they make no sense. Each time I attempt to seek clarification, he again interrupts me, accusing me of arguing and being uncooperative. 

His treatment of me feels brutal, manipulative, and controlling. It makes no sense to me at all. I desperately wish to follow his guidance, but I first desire clarity. However, any attempt to ask for clarification results in further confusion and despair. 

Lectures In Arguing 

Finally, I again just surrender, close my eyes, ignore Keith’s advice telling me to lose myself in the shutdown, and instead desperately attempt to bring in the light – begging the higher energies to fill my confused and exhausted body. 

For fifteen minutes I sit in silence, feeling empty and shutdown while meditating in futility. Keith moves and sits in front of a nearby friend, as if he is about to move on to work with someone else. Then he suddenly looks back and engages me again in what feels highly confrontational. 

Quickly moving back into his own chair, Keith proceeds to lecture me, telling me how he has been trying to work with me for a very long time, but that I am simply arguing with him – arguing with his guidance – arguing when he asks me to simply shut down – arguing when he asks me to bring in the light to move beyond the futility. 

“You are choosing the futility because that is where you want to be, blah, blah, blah” Keith goes on. 

With a deeply frazzled mind, I feel as if I can only remember a small fraction of what Keith tells me – but I profoundly remember the emotions. I am being bombarded by manipulative, controlling, condescending, logic-twisting, unfounded accusations – and I am helpless, unable to be heard, completely misunderstood, hopeless at ever having the chance to explain myself. 

One Futile Thought 

Giving up to the confusion, I simply surrender again, no longer asking questions, sinking further into submissiveness. 

“I know Keith has something up his sleeve.” I whimper silently through muffled tears of confusion. “I desperately hope he is not really serious about all of this.” 

“Perhaps I will just leave the porch and never come back.” One futile thought passes through my mind with great persuasive force. 

Manipulative Badgering 

“Connect with your inner child,” Keith soon begins in a serious voice, “and ask her if you as a child had a pattern of using confusion, not remembering, and shutting down in futility as a means of stuffing things down and not dealing with issues.” 

I am so numb that I feel absolutely nothing, no intuitive senses whatsoever. I feel so beaten down that the only thing I desire to do is to please Keith so that maybe he will get off my back. 

“Yes,” I respond feebly, not really believing the answer I provide, simply telling Keith what I believe he wants to hear. 

“Do you as an adult have this same pattern of doing this and getting so confused that you cannot function?” Keith continues prodding me in a way that I perceive as pushy and forceful. 

“Can you please clarify the question?” I beg as confusion literally overwhelms my mind. “I don’t quite understand.” 

“The question is very simple Brenda.” Keith replies in what I interpret as being a very mean tone. “Why are you being so resistant and uncooperative? Just answer the question!” 

“Can you just please repeat the question?” I ask again humbly. “I honestly can’t quite remember what or how you asked it.” 

“Just answer the question.” Keith sternly pushes back. “It is very simple.” 

“Please,” I beg Keith, “I am trying to cooperate with you, but I honestly am so confused that I don’t understand and I just want a little clarification.” 

“Ask your inner child if you as an adult have this pattern that causes such dysfunctional ignoring and stuffing of new emotional density into receptacles.” Keith finally responds with a tone that feels deeply impatient.  

“Oh,” I respond with confusion, “I thought you were asking me if I had this problem …” 

“It was obvious that I was asking you to ask your inner child.” Keith retorts sternly. 

“Yes, my inner child says that I do.” I respond with zero confidence. 

I honestly cannot feel any intuition whatsoever, but respond only because I feel bullied into complying with Keith’s demands and I want to get him off my case. Besides, it only makes sense that since I am actually struggling, confused, and shutdown right now, that I must actually still fall into this behavior. Again I flash back to several additional shutdown memories as an adult – memories of being overwhelmed and confused, simply giving up in frustration – memories of being unable to hold anything else in my head, going numb and blocking out the world in order to survive. 

Going Through The Motions 

Keith proceeds to give several more questions for me to ask my inner child. With each question, I struggle with deep confusion as I merely attempt to understand the wording of his questions. Either he is intentionally mixing his words up in very confusing ways, or I am a total basket case.  

Feeling crazy and numb, I continue attempting to cooperate and respond, but I am only going through the motions, simply making up answers that I believe Keith might want to hear. I no longer have the strength or will to even try to be real and genuine. 

Beginnings Of Clarity 

As Keith ends his barrage, I sit numbly on my pillow, confused and in shock. I am deeply frustrated, feeling unreasonably attacked, massively misunderstood, shutdown, and empty inside. 

Yet I refuse to strike back in defensive anger and resistance, still trusting that what has happened on the porch today must be some type of peculiar stage play.  

I understand absolutely nothing – but I continue to trust Keith with my life. I know there must be some good and loving reason for what just happened, some logic and reason to his bizarre treatment. 

Finally, I simply close my eyes and focus on bringing in more light. Over time, I gradually begin to feel glimmers of higher energies vibrating weakly here and there in my body. Slowly, ever so slowly, the energies begin to intensify – just enough to start filling my heart with a feeling of loving confidence, peace, and clarity. 

The evening is late. Keith has briefly gone inside the house to perform a few post-ceremony errands. 

The entire session has been consumed by this crazy nightmare, and it seems that two of the others on the porch suddenly have great advice to share with me, trying to boost my spirits with words of rational logic and well-intentioned encouragement. 

But to me their words fall flat, reeking with a strong energy of “fixing”. Nothing they say resonates with my heart. Yes, I easily recognize from whence their logic arises, but they are clueless as to the inspired guidance that is barely beginning to blossom inside my heart. 

I simply smile and ignore the words of my friends while sinking quietly into further meditation.  

The Only Sane One 

After a while, Keith briefly returns to the porch and I decide to speak up. 

“Keith,” I confidently declare, “I feel like you are crazy-making with me, and that I am the only sane one here.” 

“Brenda,” Keith eagerly responds. “Apply that statement to your inner child.” 

“Huh?” I question with confusion. 

“Apply that statement to mean that your little child was the only sane one,” Keith smiles with excitement, “and that everyone else doing the bombarding, programming, and crazy-making of that child were themselves the insane ones, trying to program the sanity out of the child.” 

Programmed With Love 

“That little child had a pure and close relationship with the real and genuine Jesus,” Keith again emphasizes. 

Keith goes on to explain that everyone else in my life was crazy-making me in order to program me into following their way of thinking – to shut down the childhood magic that was alive inside of me. I finally got so confused, feeling so battered by the powerful opinions, the energy, and the psychic attacks from parents and other trusted adults that I eventually surrendered to the craziness – simply giving up in futility, despair, and hopelessness – no longer having the strength or the will to defend myself. 

“You experienced the psychic death of your will and your ability to trust your own feelings.” Keith further explains. 

Any and all attempts to explain myself, to defend my version of reality, only resulted in accusations of not cooperating, of me being difficult and argumentative, and of being made wrong. I eventually gave up any efforts to be understood and simply surrendered. What else could a small child do around loving-but-powerful adults? 

Yes, what else would any loving and dedicated parent do with a child that fought against such well-intentioned programming? They would do everything in their power to lovingly teach their child just how wrong his or her misunderstood thinking was, and to instead teach the child “correct behaviors and beliefs.” 

This is exactly what I did to my own children – I lovingly programmed them to incorporate the cultural and religious beliefs that I personally held at the time. 

A Stage Play 

“This entire porch today was a stage play designed to recreate a real-life reenactment of that shutdown, wasn’t it?” I look at Keith with an excited glimmer of recognition in my eye. 

“You played your role so perfectly.” I exclaim with delight. “You had me feeling so deeply crazy and shutdown.” 

I am blown away with ongoing insights. 

Today on the porch, I have been given a gift of precious jewels. I was given the gift of actually experiencing, in an extremely real and dramatic way, the real-life trauma of being manipulated, programmed, and controlled by loving and trusted adults. I went through the entire spectrum of experiences – feeling the rebellion, the futility, the hopelessness, and the eventual giving up. 

What an amazing education – what an amazing gift! 

A Perfect Reenactment 

Then the crazy-making continues as Serg and one other gentleman jump into the conversation to validate everything that Keith did during the ceremony. 

“Brenda,” one friend tells me, “you literally became an uncooperative child. Your behavior was completely shut down and confused. Keith was giving you loving and clear guidance throughout the ceremony, and you simply could not hear or understand it. 

To these two friends, I was the one who was literally crazy. They saw Keith as having treated me kindly – firmly yes, but kindly. 

“That is your reality, what you saw in your part of the script,” I tell my friends with determination, “and I do believe that this is exactly what you experienced today.” 

“But my reality was entirely different,” I further explain. “It was as if Keith literally were doing everything in his power to drive me crazy and to confront me with unreasonable back-talk, twisting my words back in my face, attacking me with things I did not say. I was fully being disempowered by someone who should have been my guide and my teacher. That is what I saw and fully believe took place in my reality.” 

“I believe it was a perfect reenactment of what happened to me as a child, and that I was indeed the only sane one here on the porch today.” 

No Way? 

At one point in this follow-up conversation, Keith mentions something about a process where he asked me to put my “knowing little girl” in my left hand and to put my “parents’ shutdown stuff” in the other. 

“What are you talking about?” I ask with deep confidence. “I have no memory of doing that … that absolutely did not happen!” 

Keith grins, nods his head at two of my friends, and asks them to volunteer what they remember. To my dismay, both clearly indicate that the process definitely occurred. 

“How could I possibly have been confused so deeply that I would have no memory of something like that?” I ponder intensely. “Do I really shut down so profoundly in such times of confusion?” 

Ongoing Defense Mechanisms 

Yes, I feel both confused and empowered as I reflect on my understanding of what took place today. 

But then Keith helps me out by reminding me that I was deeply triggered – that I did regress powerfully into a profound child-like state, overloaded with confusion, incapable of dealing with even innocent bombardments. He emphasizes that this is a continuing and ongoing problem for me – one that I must resolve before I can successfully work with Higher Self. 

Today I acted out my God/separation drama in a big way. I felt totally abandoned again and again by my teacher, accused unfairly, and rejected by God – and I mostly fell for it.  

The Universe and Keith gave me a huge gift – the realization that I still react to these old triggers in a major way. These same defense mechanisms that I constructed as a child in a desperate and futile attempt to protect myself do indeed continue to exist.  

Yes, I understand this now more profoundly than ever. That little child in me developed some serious defense mechanisms to protect against the bombardment of confusing outside domination and dogma – patterns that kept me safe during my youth, but patterns that sill affect me in now-dysfunctional ways, even to the present day – patterns that cause me not to trust God, my Higher Self, and other teachers – patterns that cause me to overload, to go into confusion, and to go into shutdown mode – patterns that sometimes cause me to isolate and retreat, simply giving up and hiding from responsibility in a desperate attempt to merely cope and survive. 

Trusting My Self 

Keith again retreats into his kitchen while my friends resume their well-intended advice-giving. I again tune them out and re-enter deep meditation, I am blown away with these new realizations. The words of my friends still do not resonate, and I choose to bask in the glow of divine light rather than to further confuse the issues with well-intentioned statements that do not resonate in my heart. 

After about ten minutes, Keith returns to the porch. 

“Congratulations on your empowerment.” Keith tells me proudly. “You are trusting your own self and your own energies over the words of others (those of my friends) who simply do not understand the depth of what you are experiencing – who simply do not understand the profound growth through which you just passed.” 

“Go home and love that little inner child.” Keith again guides me. “Tell her over and over again how she was the only one who was sane during that shut down process in which she was finally forced to surrender.”

Bedtime Email 

It is 6:45 p.m. before I finally leave Keith’s magical porch. The entire ceremony today ended up being focused on this amazing stage play of a crazy reality – and I had the perfect cast to support me. 

“Thank you from the bottom of my heart for playing each of your roles so beautifully today,” I tell my friends as I hug each of them, “thank you for doing what you did with such perfection, for doing exactly what I needed in order to relive my shutdown in such a profound way.” 

“Brenda,” one young man tells me, “I thought you might never speak to Keith again after today.” 

“So did I for a while there.” I giggle. 

Later that night, I send a long thank-you email to Keith. Following are a few excerpts: 

“… I still don’t remember a lot of the nearly five-hour process, but the insights I do remember were powerful … and you played your authority role perfectly (and as gently as you could) in helping me totally lose and surrender my sanity … just long enough to feel the deep pain before remembering that I was simply creating a reality … and to highlight a pattern that continues today, one that I can now begin to release.” 

In Retrospect 

As I finish writing for today, I am now totally in the present. It is Thursday evening, May 26, 2011. One of the young men who was with me on the porch during that crazy afternoon six weeks ago just happened to synchronously show up at the chocolate ceremony yesterday. It was the first time he has come in several weeks. When I briefly mentioned what I was going to be writing about today, we ended up having one of those “strange conversation” days on the porch where a great deal of time focused on what happened on April 15. 

To my dismay, the more we talked, the more I came to realize how utterly frightened I have been to go back and write about that day – fearful that I have never actually addressed the ongoing shutdown issues that were unexpectedly uncovered – fearful that my perceptions of that day might really turn out to prove me crazy after all. 

In that ceremony yesterday, I actually began to regress slightly into that same state of mind, feeling quite jittery. Then, this morning before meditation, I again regress momentarily as I attempt to clarify a question with Keith – a question about ego and asking versus not-asking for help. As if on cue, I momentarily lapse into the confusion as Keith briefly replays that same parental role of not giving me the clarity and understanding that I seek. 

Luckily, I recognize what I am doing and soon retrace my steps without getting lost. But the ninety minute meditation that follows turns out to be quite an emotional adventure as I again dip deeply into the fears of regressing back to that day. 

From those who were on the porch that day, I have been repeatedly told that they witnessed Keith as being firm but loving, and that I literally regressed into being a confused and rebellious child. This morning one friend gave me another piece of feedback – one that I desperately wanted to hear – one that deeply soothed my troubled fears. 

“I thought Keith was being quite hard-assed with you during parts of the ceremony.” My friend tells me. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you.” I giggle. “I am so grateful to be told by an outside observer that my feelings were not totally unfounded.” 

Trusting The Flow 

“Keith,” I again ask after this morning’s meditation, “can you please tell me one more time what was going through your mind on that crazy afternoon six weeks ago?”

My dear friend Keith proceeds to clarify that early during the ceremony he received strong guidance that he needed to play the very specific the role that he did – and that he was not supposed to try to pull me out of my confused shutdown. At the time, he had no idea whatsoever just where the process might take us, but he trusted the flow, knowing it was exactly what needed to happen. 

Keith, as I conclude my writing today, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for teaching me to further follow my own flow – and for doing it with personal example. 

As strange as that crazy day was, I believe it to be one of the most profound lessons – one of the most profound gifts of my life. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

 

After a painful-but-beautiful scorpion interlude I now return to the present, I mean the past, but wait, the past is the present. You know what I mean. 

In clock we trust. 

A Usual Start 

On Tuesday, April 12, I enjoy what has been quite rare as of late – an entire free day in which I can simply write – following which I get to enjoy a beautiful conversation with my roommate Joy. I cannot believe that I met her only a couple of weeks ago. I feel as if I have known her my entire life … but then again, maybe I have, since my entire life only exists in the “now”. 

Wednesday begins equally as relaxing, other than the fact that I spend half of the morning filing my taxes online. It is strange that even in Guatemala, I still feel compelled to file those silly little tokens to society, even though I did not earn a single penny during all of 2010. 

The afternoon chocolate ceremony also begins in relaxed fashion. As I start to meditate regarding my desire to further open my third-eye and sacral chakras, I experience the usual light-headedness, mild pains in my forehead, and considerable churning in my tummy. 

But something different also shows up. I am beginning to feel renewed pain in my shoulders. 

Their Own Masters 

“I feel like this metaphor is showing me that my continued low energy in the second and sixth chakras is related to the fact that I continue to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders.” I speculate with Keith. 

At this point in time I am still feeling quite emotionally stable, mostly living in logic and the rational mind. 

Soon, however, I go further into the subconscious, asking for something to be shown to me. 

What immediately pops into my awareness is an image of a cat. Throughout my life, I have always felt a special affinity with these playful furry creatures. 

“Hmmm…” I think to myself. “Cats do what they want, whenever they want, without following clocks or rules. Instead of listening to society or to their masters, they are their own masters – masters at following their heart.” 

“Cats don’t take on the responsibilities and seriousness of the word.” I further ponder. “I want to be more like a cat, connecting more with the inner joy … the childlike joy … the playful joy.” 

Bored Silly 

For nearly two hours, Keith works exclusively with a new couple in the group – coaching them in connecting with each others’ hearts, learning to trust each other, etc… 

At first I am quite engaged in listening, but eventually I grow extremely bored. I have heard all this before and am unusually distracted. 

“If I create my own reality,” I finally begin to question myself, “and I do indeed believe that I do … then why am I creating this boring scene on the porch with Keith engaging in long drawn-out couple therapy?” 

Breach in Fidelity 

My first answer is that I am learning about relationships – but everything Keith says and does is a repeat from many other such sessions.  

Then I remember that the woman earlier mentioned that there had been a breach of trust and fidelity in their relationship. 

Flash To The Past 

Suddenly, I am taken back in time to a horribly painful experience in my own marriage. I am thirty-one years old, suffering from excruciating mental torment. The gender struggles have grown so intense, so all-consuming, that I am approaching a state of complete breakdown. 

On the one hand, I cannot dream of leaving my family, and the thought of walking away from my childhood religion is terrifying. No, I cannot do either. 

Yet, on the other hand I am so desperate inside that the only thing I can actually dream of is finding some type of inner peace with my gender struggles. Worse yet, I cannot share my desperation with another living soul. 

With all of my heart, I want to remain with my family and my religion – but I feel trapped, believing it to be utterly impossible for loved ones to accept a father transitioning into Brenda. 

No, I know I can never just walk away from family and church. That seems emotionally impossible. But then a crazy and desperate idea enters my head. 

“If they hate me enough,” I think to myself, “perhaps they might push me away, giving me the freedom to further explore what is now a painful and agonizing inner journey – a journey that has me paralyzed in its clutches.” 

In a state of emotional numbness and hopelessness, I do something crazy. I deliberately engage in an act of infidelity – something that will make both family and church push me away. 

Yes, the church does excommunicate me, but for ten more long-and-difficult years my wife and I attempt to find some way to make the marriage work. 

I had emotionally stabbed her in the heart – yet in her grace and beauty she valiantly and courageously attempted to love and forgive, as did I. 

An Unexpected Twist 

As I reminisce through these horrifyingly painful events of twenty-four years ago, I begin to feel deep pain while tears simultaneously flood my eyes. 

“What’s up?” Keith quickly asks from across the porch as he notices my emotion.

 After I fill him in on my journey, Keith quickly gives me unexpected instructions. 

“Energetically connect to her.” Keith guides me, pointing to the beautiful woman who had briefly mentioned the breach of fidelity in her own relationship. 

“Your feelings and experiences will help her deeply.” Keith further encourages. 

“You don’t want to be like this in your fifties when you could have worked things out with love and letting go.” Keith coaches the young couple with love as they watch tears pour out of my eyes. 

I fully recognize that my situation at age thirty-one is quite different from that of this couple. However, I am quite grateful that my sudden recognition of unhealed pain can be slightly adapted to help someone else. 

In a very generic way, I share my struggles and regrets with this young couple, telling them of the ongoing guilt and sadness that follow me here and there. My words touch the woman quite deeply. The couple moves in closer to each other, each holding the other as they observe my continuing emotional release – a release of guilt and sadness from a time so very long ago. 

Soon, the couple needs to leave the porch. As they do so, they both give me deep bear-hugs, thanking me for helping them so profoundly. 

An Ugly Tar-Ball 

The afternoon is late as Keith begins to work exclusively with me. He asks two others, both gentlemen, to remain to assist – to hold a loving energetic space for my ongoing work. 

“I feel like I have a deep pain stuck inside.” I tell Keith through a river of tears. “It feels like an ugly emotional tar-ball that I just want to vomit out of me.” 

I cry and cry, but the emotional release seems to be going nowhere. The yucky tar-ball remains stuck in my abdomen. 

“Keith,” I ask with confusion, “can you please clarify for me regarding when we should use higher energies to move emotional densities versus doing it through tears?” 

“Sometimes you just need to cry it out,” Keith reassures me, “and sometimes higher energies are the answer. It is different every time. You just have to flow with your own energies and learn to trust yourself.” 

After listening to Keith’s words, I begin to cry more, feeling the deep pain of my own hopelessness at age thirty-one – feeling how deeply I betrayed my family – feeling the profound sadness, helplessness, futility, and anger of a thirty-one-year-old father so stuck and lost. 

All of these emotions are jumbled up in that tar-ball of despair that will not leave me. My second chakra feels completely clogged with this deep and painful energy blockage.  

Pulling By The Roots 

Even though I am painfully aware that still-deeper tears are begging to be expressed, I cannot seem to access them. Tears continue to flow, but the large tar-ball remains lodged and stuck. 

I attempt to visualize myself energetically vomiting the dark, dense energy from my abdomen. I reach down with all the strength of my heart, imagining that I am grabbing tightly at these dense energies, using the power of my will to pull them out by the roots, from the inside out. As I do so, my body goes into a mixture of dry heaves and coughing while I struggle to free myself. 

Finally, after a long and excruciating inner journey, I feel as if I have succeeded. These emotional energies have settled and the tar-ball is gone. 

The Doubts Are Just Doubts 

While Keith moves on to work with Serg, I immerse myself in deep meditation, attempting to engage the higher energies, asking them to fill me up with unconditional love and light, asking them to transmute any left-over dense energies that might remain in this layer of release. 

“Brenda,” Keith suddenly interrupts, “I’m guided to tell you that the deep doubts you are feeling are simply that … they are merely doubts. They are not buried truths. They are simply you … you doubting yourself.” 

As I listen to Keith’s words I suddenly realize that I had indeed been questioning myself, regretting the unbearable pain, wondering how things might have unfolded twenty-four long years ago had I known then what I know now, wondering if I could have made better choices with a better outcome. 

“The truth is,” Keith continues his wisdom, “that you already know that everything that happened needed to happen exactly the way it did.” 

My heart resonates powerfully that Keith’s words are indeed true. 

As painful as my journey has been both to me and to others in my family, I have never had any doubts. I have always known that the pain was necessary – that the journey was necessary – that while I may not yet know where it is taking me, I absolutely have to go there. 

“Part of what you released today was that of your family,” Keith continues his channeled wisdom. “It was something to remind you of just how powerful your internal agony at that time truly was.” 

“Congratulations for some powerful work,” Keith concludes his much-appreciated feedback. “Not only did you follow a powerful metaphor and realization (that I create my own reality) in discovering this buried emotion, but you also deeply helped that beautiful couple in the process. You served them deeply.” 

Another Day 

As I return home on Wednesday evening, I am again experiencing slight pain and nausea in the second chakra – but it is mild and intuitively communicative. 

“You are not done yet.” The pain whispers. “But you did a great job today. The rest can wait for another day.” 

Rather than fret about the continuous series of emotional layers that need to be peeled away, I instead choose to celebrate in a joyous dinner conversation with Joy – burgers, fries and nachos at a local restaurant.  

A Light Headache 

The continual journey of deep emotional release – day after day – layer after layer – is beginning to take its toll. Not only am I growing further and further behind in my writing, but I continue to feel my once-stable emotional foundation beginning to crumble below me. 

Thursday morning, in an attempt to shore-up that foundation, I engage in a diversion – some much needed Spanish study and meditation. 

But it seems that I have a light headache that simply won’t stop. I take this headache with me to the afternoon chocolate ceremony. 

Blocked Energies 

At the start of the ceremony, Keith asks each of us to describe what we feel. 

Religious Chaos 

A young man on the porch brings up a deep inner battle. He himself was raised in an Evangelistic family, while his dear wife was raised as a Catholic. But now, his heart is guiding him in a completely different spiritual direction. He is deeply confused by the rejection, judgments, and questions from family and friends.  

As he tries to please others, he finds his life filled with “hot air” – empty words being exchange on both sides – words that only lead to further frustration and confusion. 

“What do I do,” the young man begs Keith for answers. 

Religious Guilt 

As I again focus on the fact that I create my own reality, I realize that this religious discussion is serving me deeply. 

“This is triggering the second half of what began yesterday.” I suddenly realize. “It is triggering the religious guilt that accompanied that devastating period of my life.” 

Almost immediately, the deep emotional pain in my second chakra returns. The unseen “tar-ball” is so physically painful that all I want to do is vomit it out energetically. If only I could. 

Crying silently, I wait for Keith to work his way around the porch. I desperately need assistance, and I need it now. The tearful release only grows stronger as the intense emotions boil and churn in my abdomen … waiting … waiting … waiting. 

I’ve Had Enough 

“Brenda here is connecting deeply to what you are working on.” Keith suddenly shares with a woman across the porch. 

Keith immediately follows his own guidance, switching to come over and work with me. Through deep tears, I quickly fill him in on my excruciating journey. 

Immediately, Serg begins to cry in a very vocal manner, begging Keith to help him right now. I recognize that Serg’s process parallels my own quite profoundly and I know that his work has often facilitated my own work in amazing ways … but I have had enough of his interruptions. 

Keith responds to Serg’s plea by abandoning my side … moving instead to sit in front of Serg. 

In a manner very uncharacteristic of my personality, I decide to speak up and say something about my frustrations – to actually express those buried feelings verbally. 

“Keith,” I interrupt with confidence. “I am feeling very annoyed by Serg’s frequent interruptions to my process, and by the fact that you again abandoned me to go work with him.” 

“It seems that Serg does this almost every time that I hit my own deep pain.” I finish my vocal outburst. 

Part of me applauds my courage … part of me is horrified by what I just did. 

A Perceptual Shift 

“But Brenda,” Keith shocks me with his reply, “You manifested him to mirror your healing so that he could help you via his processing. Serge is simply helping you.” 

I am deeply humbled both by Keith’s words, and by the kind and loving manner in which he delivers them. 

I needed to be reminded that everything that happens on this porch is part of my process, and even more profoundly, that “it is my personal creation and manifestation.” 

I begin to giggle inside as I immediately switch from being a victim of Serg’s interruption to instead being grateful for it. I quickly begin to search and listen, hoping to learn exactly how Serg can help me in my own process. 

It Is Their Job 

While Keith works further with Serg, I continue to sob, attempting to muffle the emotional outburst so as not to make a huge dramatic scene. True to my expectations, Serg’s processing does indeed trigger me far more deeply, causing the tears to flow with increasing volume, greatly facilitating what happens next. 

“Brenda,” Keith begins to work with me again, “rather than crying-out or pulling-out the energies, I want you to identify the religious leaders or institutions that gave them to you … and I want you to give those energies back to their rightful owners. 

“It is their job to either transmute the energies or to internalize them.” Keith continues. “It is not yours. These are not your energies to deal with.” 

Just A Drop 

I feel horrible. I cannot give this deep pain to anyone, not even to my worst enemy (if I had one). I just want to transmute the pain myself. The thought of giving this agonizing pain to someone else is beyond comprehension. I simply cannot … I will not … do it. 

“No,” Keith again coaches me firmly, “give the energies back to those who own them.” 

Still, I am frozen … I cannot do it. Even the thought causes me deep pain and anguish. 

“Give them just a tiny drop of the energy.” Keith encourages me. 

As I attempt to visualize myself releasing this tiny flow, I begin to sob and shake. Again I start to cough and experience dry heaves. 

“There, you gave up a tiny drop.” Keith reassures me with confidence. “Can you feel the difference?” 

“No,” I respond puzzled, “I cannot tell any difference at all.” 

As I ponder briefly, I recognize that “not feeling anything” actually gives me confidence to continue – to fully realize that what I am doing is not going to physically hurt anyone else. 

Breathe Brenda 

“Breathe, Brenda,” Keith coaches me when he realizes what is going on. 

I suddenly gasp for breath and begin to hyperventilate rapidly. 

“Good,” Keith encourages me. “Give up some more.” 

The experience is unexplainably terrifying. I still want to cry this pain out of me. I don’t have the slightest inkling of desire to curse anyone else with it, not even those who gave it to me … especially not to my parents if they might be among the receivers. 

Gradually, with Keith’s loving guidance, I release more and more, even bringing in the angels to help. Over time, I feel a steady lightening process occurring in my abdomen. 

But the process is not fast. It is extremely slow and tedious, lasting for more than an hour as I layer-by-layer allow the deep, horrendous, painful emotion to be felt and then released. 

Repeatedly, I catch myself holding my breath as a way to tolerate the pain. 

“Breathe, Brenda,” Keith guides me over and over, again causing me to gasp and hyperventilate. 

Return To Sender 

Finally the deeply rooted emotions seem to have completely evaporated, having been sent to those who own them. I can only trust that receiving these emotional densities is indeed a part of their own life journey – a part of their own process of learning and growth. 

I feel no guilt for packaging up the energies and “returning them to sender.” I feel only a deep sense of relief. 

Life Support Terminated 

As evening falls and everyone else leaves the porch, I remain briefly for a quick wrap-up discussion with Keith. 

“Imagine what a child would feel,” Keith shares with me, “if each time they went to church this is the energy that they felt shutting them down.” 

I again reminisce about the intense energetic pains I felt today. 

“This is what happened to you!” Keith emphasizes strongly. “You felt this painful energy each time you were being shut down. Imagine how you felt with all of this unexplainable pain inside.” 

“Horrible, dead, hopeless, futile, martyred, confused, crying as a child for no apparent reason …” I think to myself. 

“You had a beautiful and genuine connection with the real Jesus as a young child, “Keith again emphasizes his point. “But you were forced to give it up for a false connection. Your divine lifeline was cut.” 

Following My Heart

Keith’s words cause me to ponder deeply. While they indeed resonate as profoundly true, I again have to honestly acknowledge to myself that I have no physical memories of this intense emotional pain as a child. 

What I do have, however, are very clear memories of crying unstoppably for no apparent reason – memories of feeling confused and misunderstood – memories of futility and unexplainable sadness and lacking in self-confidence.  

Rational mind wants to laugh and vehemently deny that any of this ever happened. 

My heart and intuitions, however, simply stand up and cheer as they proudly proclaim “It is about time you began to figure this all out.” 

I choose to listen to my heart. 

Appreciated Feedback 

As I prepare to leave the magical porch, Keith again pulls me aside to offer support and congratulations. 

“I don’t know why I crave such feedback.” I often ponder to myself. “Is it ego or is it simply part of the learning process?” 

Perhaps it is a little of both. I only know that I continue to fall victim to occasional periods of self-doubt, and the feedback Keith provides always gives me a little burst of energy and self-trust when I seem to need it most. 

“You are ‘right on’ with your growing insights about creating your reality.” Keith reassures me, “and the beautiful work you did today really helped a lot of people on the porch.” 

Salsa Delight 

After enjoying a delightful farewell dinner for my dear friend and roommate Joy, I decide to indulge myself for an evening of releasing myself from inhibition. 

It seems that a local restaurant/hotel is having a free salsa class, and Joy is excited to attend, encouraging me to accompany her. 

“I will come for just a few minutes.” I respond to Joy’s eager prodding. “I am really tired after a long emotional day.” 

I simply giggle as I walk home two hours later. The salsa dancing was delightful. I love the amount of self-confidence that seems to be building inside. It seems that I am feeling lighter and less-inhibited every single day. 

Sneeze Delight 

As I walk alone down a dimly-lit dirt path back toward my apartment, I suddenly sneeze. To my surprise and amazement, I experience a powerful surge of tingling energies that literally overwhelm my entire body.

“Wow,” I exclaim with delight. “I think I need to sneeze like that more often.” 

I find it amazing how the energy flow in my body is gradually opening and increasing – and I owe it all to the powerful emotional work I am doing – work that is releasing what still seems like an unlimited supply of dense emotional energies – energies that I never before understood were literally clogging and blocking the flow of divine energies in my body. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Today I take a momentary step out of linear time. My journey of the last six days has been quite profound – so profound that I must begin to share parts of it now – so profound that my inner guidance will not allow me to do otherwise. 

Blending with Love 

I earlier mentioned that writing about my healing journey after a seven week lag is turning out to be quite profound. Wow, did I ever underestimate that statement. On Saturday, May 14, I posted a blog entry titled “A Journey with Doubt” – a piece of writing that highlighted a private session I had with Keith on April 4. In that session – a session that I believed at the time to be my last private session with Keith – he guided me to blend my energy with the Angel Moroni, and to allow myself to simply experience divine love. 

On May 14, as I rested on my pillow after finishing that writing, I suddenly realized that I had never successfully blended with the unconditionally-loving energy essence of Moroni, nor had I taken the time to simply feel loved by the divine. I had been too busy just trying to keep my head above water during intense five-day-per-week chocolate ceremonies that continued to pull me deeper and deeper down the rabbit hole of emotional healing. 

Immediately after this realization, I entered a deep meditation in which I did both. Powerful and pleasurable energy seemed to consume my entire body, focusing mainly on my troublesome lower chakras. For several hours on that Saturday night nine days ago, and continuing to this day, blending and feeling the love of these divine energies has become a regular part of my routine – something that I eagerly anticipate with each meditation venture. I have never meditated so much in my life.

Layers of Waste 

On Tuesday, May 17, I published my most recent blog entry titled “In Clock we Trust” – describing profound metaphors that had surfaced during a chocolate ceremony on Sunday April 10. 

The first of those unexpected metaphors was that of discovering an inner room in my solar plexus – a room filled with deep layers of human waste. In that eye-opening meditation, I was assisted by angelic metaphors in cleaning out the majority of that waste, triggering deep feelings of “I don’t deserve this help.” Even more profound was the realization that the room covered by human waste was actually my own inner temple, and that no matter what I tried during that Sunday ceremony in early April, I could not get the waste to completely clear. 

Routine Shifts 

Also beginning in early May, Keith shifted his routine, switching to have only two chocolate ceremonies each week – on Sundays and Wednesdays. 

But he also surprised me with something new. 

“Brenda,” Keith told me, “I feel guided to open up my porch for a 7:00 a.m. meditation every morning. Anyone that wants to come is invited – and it will be free.” 

“What a beautiful way for me to begin transitioning to doing my own work.” I quietly ponder. “I can still be on the porch, enjoying the amazing energy – and I can practice receiving divine guidance and following metaphors all by myself.” 

Tears Can Wait 

On Wednesday afternoon, May 18, I find myself totally unprepared for what will turn out to be the beginning of an arduous and grueling rollercoaster ride – a ride that begins during a very ordinary morning meditation. 

As I sit cross-legged on my favorite pillow, I sense an incredible amount of energy in my body – a body that because of the intense energy flow feels very hot and sweaty, even though the morning air is cool and crisp. Joyful tears trickle down my cheeks as I begin to feel a strong loving energy embracing me, holding me. 

“We have been here all along.” I feel the energy silently whisper to me. “We love you, you are home.” 

With each deep breath, I feel as if I am breathing love into my heart – but oddly enough my solar plexus simultaneously begins to shake with fear, as if it were saying “Yes, I want this energy … “wait” … “No, stop, I don’t want this energy … yes … no … yes … no …” 

Feeling slightly shocked by the intensity of the fearful and painful emotions that are suddenly surfacing, I attempt to stuff them down. Even so, sad and painful tears begin to trickle, quickly replacing the joyful ones of a few minutes earlier. 

“This is supposed to be a beautiful meditation.” I think to myself. “I will delay this emotion for a few more hours. It can wait until the afternoon chocolate ceremony.” 

The Process of Distractions 

At the start of ceremony, the neighbors are engaged in construction, noisily splitting concrete blocks using a machete. The thud, thud, thud, thud of the metal blade on concrete is quite distracting. 

“This is part of my process.” I intuitively tell myself. “This is to remind me of the pounding chaotic energies that have taunted me throughout my life, stalking me in the shadows, bringing anxiety and confusion to keep me from discovering the little ego man from Kansas hiding behind the curtain.” 

My attention is again drawn to the feeling of deadness in my forehead – a feeling that is accompanied by my old friend, the aching pain in my solar plexus. For nearly two months this solar plexus pain manifests itself during nearly every deep meditation. Today, the pain is quite pronounced and intense, right between the belly button and lower ribs. 

Suddenly another distraction enters the fray. It seems that several dogs have followed someone to the porch today – and a couple of them have managed to maneuver their way under both chain link and chicken wire, approaching Keith’s porch with drooling grins as they playfully seek loving attention from their friend and master. 

“This too is part of my process.” I immediately deduce. “It reminds me of how my solar plexus is starved for love, how each organ in my abdomen is represented by a junkyard dog, desperately seeking loving nourishment from my heart.” (Full story in ‘Junkyard Dogs and Puppy Love’). 

“Could it be that my journey today will take me deeper into my childhood shutdown …” I begin to ponder, “… and deeper into the issues of self-love?” 

Five Meter Wall 

Meditating intensively, I watch myself, observing every feeling, seeking out new healing metaphors. I feel totally stuck, even when an old metaphor pops into my mind – one that Keith frequently talks about. 

I imagine a five-meter-tall wall of glass on the path in front of me. I need to go forward in my path, but don’t have the slightest idea how to proceed without asking for assistance from a Higher Source. 

“Higher Self,” I silently beg in meditation, “I feel helpless, not having the slightest clue about how to proceed today. Will you please help me?” 

I visualize my little inner child “Sharon”, asking her to join me, to show me what I need to work on. Next, I make a plea for help to the angels. 

Desperate To Get Out 

I notice a woman across the porch bending forward as if in deep emotional pain. 

“When I send healing love to others,” I ponder, “that love always fills me too. Maybe that is my answer.” 

I center myself, beginning to breathe slowly and deeply, imagining every breath as filling me with deep unconditional love. I imagine myself as expanding my heart, stretching my inner magic, my magical theme park, to cover the entire porch in an attempt to share light and higher energies. 

With each deep breath, I notice that my solar plexus again begins to shake with deep “yes/no” fear, just as it had begun to do this morning. But this time, the shaking is quite wild and intense. What I am experiencing makes absolutely no sense to the rational mind. And I also experience absolutely no intuitive understanding regarding the origin of this powerful emotion – other than that it feels related to fear. If I were not on Keith’s porch, I might think I was going crazy. 

Tears begin to trickle. With each deeper breath, the tears push harder, as if forcing themselves through solid rock, determined to find release. Nausea begins to form in my abdomen. 

“I don’t have any idea what it is,” I begin to realize, “but something in my solar plexus is desperately begging to get out of my body.” 

Terrified of Love 

I immerse myself in an new quest – that of imagining my Higher Self, the angels, and my little Sharon – imagining them all hugging me and holding me with unconditional love. 

The tears intensify greatly. 

“I’m feeling terrified of this love.” I begin to realize. “Why of all things would I be terrified of love?” 

Send Down a Dipstick 

Finally, for the first time in the ceremony, Keith stops by to check on me. I am quite proud to have gotten this far all by myself. I take a few minutes to fill him in on where I am at in this profound inner journey. 

“Go sit with that terror.” Keith guides me firmly. “Take the love in your heart with you, and go down there in your solar plexus. Find out what this is all about.” 

As I make a valiant attempt, I immediately feel stuck. Something at the base of my heart chakra will not let me proceed further. I am completely baffled. The love refuses to go to my solar plexus with me. 

“Just sit down right there on top of your solar plexus,” Keith begins to guide me further. “Send down a dipstick and bring up something to tell you what is down there.” 

More Ugly Brown Waste 

Immediately my mind flashes to what I wrote just yesterday. 

“I don’t know if it is just because I recently wrote about this,” I tell Keith with doubt, “but I am remembering that inner-temple room that is still covered with a disgusting layer of human waste – waste that I was not able to remove in mid April – waste that I have never since gone back to explore.” 

“So the dipstick brought up some of that disgusting waste?” Keith asks the obvious question. 

“Yeah,” I respond, “that is what I am getting, even though I still doubt myself a little.” 

Another Appeal 

As Keith moves on, I again attempt to bring in more divine love. The more I do so, the more intense become my nausea and my tears. Each deep breath increasingly shakes with painful yuck. I wish I could physically vomit, but the source of the sensation is not physical. 

As the overwhelming emotions strengthen, I continue to have no clue as to their origin, other than the stark realization that deep fear is involved. 

Again I make an appeal for help, begging for my Higher Self, Sharon, anyone at all, to show me what to do, where to go from here. I am desperate to find the energy that is blocking me – that is causing this unbearable emotion – that is preventing me from reaching clarity – that is causing me so much physical pain and nausea. 

Turned OFF 

“Sharon,” I soon feel guided to be directive, “will you bring this yet-unidentified energy into a conference room so that we can talk.” 

I know that I myself cannot find the energy, but I am sure that my beautiful little inner child knows exactly what and where it is. 

As I sit down with this conference-room metaphor, I nearly fall asleep. The distractions are so intense that I literally forget what I am doing. 

A few minutes later I suddenly remember and realize what just happened. I check in with my feelings. My heart chakra feels lifeless and dead, as if someone found the power switch and flipped it to the OFF position.  

Big Stuff 

“Congratulations” Keith tells me when I soon fill him in on my progress with the conference room distractions. “This is big-time stuff going on here.” 

Keith goes on to teach me that when this many inner defense mechanisms activate to divert and to distract me, then I am definitely getting close to something major – telling me that these defenses will try to keep me at a distance, preventing me at all costs from getting closer to the dysfunctional issues at my very core. 

Know Thyself 

“Right now,” Keith tells me, “this is about getting to know your self. It is about observing what is so powerfully happening, and then learning about it.” 

“But I want this emotion out of me now.” I protest weakly. 

“Just learn about yourself.” Keith regretfully responds. 

Not Even Mine 

As I go back into lone meditation, I desperately want this pain out of me – but I have no clue how to proceed. I simply follow Keith’s inspired advice – watching, feeling, experiencing deep nausea, and crying exhausting rivers of tears. 

In the back of my mind, I have learned to keep tabs on what Keith tells others, knowing that quite often his words apply directly to me. 

“This negative energy in me is not even mine.” I silently exclaim in my pain. “It comes from my religious and cultural programming. I took it in as a child and have been running this program for my whole life.” 

“I want it out now!” I again ponder in agony. “But how do I do that? Higher Self, please help me.” 

It Is I 

I again pay attention as Keith works with a couple on a few relationship issues. I suddenly realize that the issue of not allowing myself to be loved is endemic, pervasive both inside and out. I am not allowing any type of love, whether it is self-love, divine love, or relationship love. Every time that I get close to someone, such as Anton, I find a way to sabotage it. I block that love completely. 

“The love is freely available,” I ponder deeply, “but it is I, me, myself, that will not allow the love in.” 

Resistance Is Futile 

“Get on your hands and knees and hit some pillows.” The little Jedi voices whisper quietly. 

“No, I don’t want to embarrass myself.” I resist the internal guidance. “I will do this one without tears and anger.” 

Finally, I give in to my inner prompts, knowing that resistance is futile. I swallow my pride and remember how Keith has repeatedly told me that sometimes you have to bawl your brains out – to feel the emotions to the core – in order to discover the hidden treasure that lies below them as your teacher. 

I Hate You 

I am extremely angry at this energy for having so much insane power over me. I again hesitate, not wanting to go into trauma-drama mode in front of the group. 

“The group today is so calm and quiet.” I ponder with doubt. “I will embarrass myself. I want to find some other way … peaceful and loving … no screaming or crying.” 

“I want this out of me now!” I silently exclaim in pain. “This energy does not belong inside! Get it out! I hate it!” 

Trying to be as quiet and inconspicuous as possible, I begin to slowly pound my fist on a small foam cushion, at the same time whispering “I hate you … I hate you … I hate you … I hate you … I hate you!” 

As I do so, the dam breaks and my bottled up emotions surge and burst forth. I attempt to quietly sob as deep gut-wrenching tears find their release, accompanied by violent teeth and jaw chattering. My belly shakes; my whole body shakes. 

I still don’t know what the real source of the anger is. 

I Was a Teenager 

“How old were you?” Keith asks lovingly as he turns attention back to me. 

Confusion still consumes my mind. I ponder silently for a few minutes while continuing my not-so-inconspicuous emotional release. 

“I don’t know.” I finally respond. “I have no clue.” 

But one thing Keith’s question does is to somehow give me permission to go deeper – permission that I seemed incapable of granting to myself. 

I begin to hit the cushion more forcefully, again whispering “I hate you … I hate you … I hate you.” 

The intensity of the gut-wrenching emotion shocks me. This is real stinging venom, all-consuming hatred, deadly poison that still resides in me.  Suddenly, the realization comes. 

“It is intense self-hatred,” I mumble to Keith through snarled and moist hair that has fallen over my tear-filled eyes, “and I was a teenager.” 

Skillfully Hiding 

As I continue the process of release, I literally hate myself. I remember horrendous emotions of self-hatred that began with my first gender struggles, sometime around age eleven. Those putrid emotions of hatred intensified rapidly into my teen years, gradually beginning to level off and lessen after my late thirties. 

After completing a powerful therapy workshop in June of 2004, I had thought myself to be finally free form these emotions of self-degradation. 

“Wow,” I think to myself, “how could these deeply buried emotions have continued to hide so skillfully?” 

Isn’t There Some Way? 

“I hate you … I hate you … I hate you.”  I continue to repeat to myself as the sobs and belly shakes continue to rumble. Gradually, the release fades to whimpers – but the painful emotions of self-hatred continue to rage a silent inner war. 

“Keith, isn’t there some way I could do this easier and faster? I ask pleadingly. 

“No Brenda,” Keith responds, “What I’m getting right now is that this is exactly the way you need to be doing it.” 

“Can’t she move this with higher energies,” a woman across the porch speaks up. “Can’t she ask the energies to speed it up and to help?” 

“No,” Keith responds with confidence. 

A New Level 

Keith goes on to give the group a beautiful explanation of my process. I listen with deep loving appreciation, for I too desperately need to hear what Keith has to say. 

“I have been watching Brenda very closely for a long time.” Keith shares with the group. “This is exactly how she does things, and it is exactly how she needs to do them for her own process. It is not my process … and it is not yours … but Brenda needs to do it this way.” 

Keith goes on to explain that because of my Master’s degree in counseling, and because I am a writer, that I will be a powerful teacher for others. He explains that I need to go deep into the pain from every possible angle, right to the very core. It is part of my learning process … a process that will allow me to understand and to help others. 

“This is how Brenda starts a new level,” Keith continues as my ears perk up. “This is how she begins an even more powerful opening … with a painful, tedious, drawn out process of self discovery. Usually, within a day or two after something like this, she opens up another amazing layer of energy and light.” 

“I continually monitor this porch for unnecessary trauma-drama.” Keith continues teaching the group. “What Brenda is doing is NOT trauma-drama. Yes, it is dramatic, but it is exactly what needs to happen right now.” 

I love hearing Keith’s words. They deeply reassure me that I am OK – giving me permission to continue – to allow more self-love to enter, and to eliminate some of the additional self-hate that ego would pile on to make the process even more difficult. Yes, ego would definitely dump on me, rubbing it in that I am an emotional loser for doing my processing with such dramatics. 

Bring In The Light 

Gradually, I arrive at a point where I know I am done with today’s emotional release, yet I know that I am not completely done. In fact the little Jedi voices in my heart whisper that I am just beginning this new level of deep excursion into the unknown. 

Slowly, I rearrange my cushions and sit back upright, quickly beginning a self-directed process of asking the higher energies to flood me with loving light from above. 

“Bring in the light from Mother Earth.” Keith surprises me. 

I try, but feel very little energy flow from below, either through my feet or the root chakra. I understand the importance of what Keith has asked me to do, and I focus intensely. A sense of frustration soon consumes me as I continue to feel a famine of feminine energy from the earthly mother herself.  

“Just come from any higher source.” I finally ask the energies. “Please just fill me with light and higher vibrations.” 

My hands soon begin to tingle with soothing vibrations as the power switch of my heart chakra again seems to be have been flipped to the “ON” position. It is as if I am on the “Goddesses operating table” – a term that Keith often uses when someone feels as if the energies are working on them, making internal shifts in their field. The sensation is mild, but extremely soothing. 

Reassuring Others 

After group I remain behind to seek more clarity. For the second time, Keith reassures me that his guidance resonates and is in complete alignment with the process through which I am passing. He again congratulates me for stepping into another level of deep core issues, and doing it in a big-time way. 

Both Keith and I are profoundly aware that I am just beginning this new journey. I can only hope that it will be fast and short. This much emotional intensity is overwhelming. But as usual, I will take whatever comes. 

I feel as if I want to go home to cry some more … to pursue a deeper release. I am anxious and eager to push forward. I don’t want to delay. I just want to be done. 

“Brenda,” Keith makes a request. “Would you please reassure others in your writing that they will most likely not need to go through such an intense path as yours? Let them know that your own learning path is especially difficult because of your need to learn how to help others.” 

“Yeah,” I quietly reassure Keith as I exhaustedly begin a slow walk back to my apartment. 

Much Needed Sleep 

At 7:00 p.m., near the end of a very long Wednesday, I find myself pulling the covers up to my chin as I relax an exhausted head on my pillow. Strangely enough, the emotions have completely settled. There are no more tears to cry. 

Even though exhaustion consumes me, I am unable to sleep. A powerful heavy feeling of confusing energy dominates my head, keeping me slightly distracted and agitated.

Recognizing that sleep is not eminent, I embrace meditation as a perfect backup option. The meditation is powerful, significantly lightening the heavy energy in my head, replacing the denser energy with higher-vibration, tingling, and dizziness-inducing energy. 

Before I know what happens, the meditation converts into sleep. 

Trickles Of Tears 

At 5:00 a.m. on Thursday morning, the noise in the nearby basketball court is so loud that sleep is nearly impossible. Some local school youth are practicing for some type of drill-team competition, and it seems they need to play their rap music at performance-class volume in order to practice more effectively. 

I simply smile and accept “what is”. By 6:00 a.m., I decide that I will consume a two-thirds dose of chocolate with my morning oatmeal. The little Jedi voices inside are telling me that now is no time to rest – that now is the time to get on with exposing those inner emotional densities. 

As I arrive at Keith’s porch for 7:00 a.m. meditation, I am slightly confused, primed and ready to go wherever the chocolate spirit might lead. 

“How are you doing?” Keith asks me with a smile. 

“I’m not sure.” I reply. “I may be crying today, and I may be bringing in the light. I am deep in a confusing process, and the destination is not at all clear.” 

Even as I speak these words to Keith, small teardrops begin to form in the corners of each eye. 

And The Tears Win 

When I begin meditation, I immediately focus on bringing in more high-vibration energies – more light. 

As I do so, while focusing on deep rhythmic breathing, my solar plexus suddenly returns to a state of intense yes/no fear-filled shaking while intense tears struggle to burst out of my eyes. I struggle to push them back in. 

“I guess I’m doing emotional release this morning.” I finally concede. 

Still Disgusting 

I again feel determined to bring in more light, somehow hoping that the higher energies will diffuse the tearful emotional uprising – but again the higher-dimensional energies only seem to intensify the emotional process. 

Internal guidance immediately reminds me to ask for help. As I connect with my dear little inner child, she grabs my hand and takes me back down a flight of stairs, leading me right back into the inner-temple room – a room that continues to be filled with disgusting human waste. 

As before, I connect with Higher Self and ask for another work-crew of angels to be organized to come and clean. 

“Why else would I be here again?” I ponder. 

Again I imagine a room full of angels, dancing and singing as they clean up the disgusting waste from the walls of my inner temple – but this process only serves to bring up even deeper tears combined with “I don’t deserve” emotions. Try as I might, the room does not seem to get any cleaner – yet I do indeed feel the angel’s energetic presence of love, excitement, and willingness to help. 

A thought crosses my mind. “Is this room filled with human waste, or could it be chocolate?” 

Sadly enough, my intuition reassures me that it is indeed disgusting waste. 

I repeatedly bring in more love and light, again asking Higher Self for guidance, over and over asking little Sharon to connect and to help. Every time, she guides me right back into that disgusting room – my own inner temple covered with human waste. 

Disgusting Memories 

“I guess I have to go deeper into this.” I finally succumb. 

For another thirty minutes, I relive memory after memory of teenage struggles – struggles related to gender explorations – struggles that always left me with even more self-disgust, even more self-hatred. 

“I hate myself … I am disgusting.” 

I cannot seem to shake these overwhelming emotions. They stick to me like a powerful unbreakable bond. 

I imagine myself shouting back at these voices, telling them how wrong they are, defending myself against these unfounded accusations – but these imaginary conversations go nowhere. The voices continue to overwhelm me. 

Finally, after reliving these painful memories again and again, I start to feel a glimmer of love for that young teenage boy who struggled so deeply – a boy trying so hard to fill himself with light and love, so confused by the gender and sexual confusions that raged inside his innocent little mind, not having another living soul to talk to, being so lost and alone, having such a pure mind and a genuine heart. He was so loving, trying so desperately to conform to the wishes of his parents, his religion, and his culture. 

In spite of my efforts, the tears continue to flow; the unbelievable energy of self-hatred persists, ever more strongly. 

Meditation Interrupted 

“How are you doing?” Keith unexpectedly interrupts meditation at about the half-way point in our ninety-minute session. 

“Bring in the light.” Keith guides me after I briefly fill him on my intense saga. These are the only words of advice that he gives during the entire meditation. I am completely on my own with this one. 

Again I focus on bringing in higher-dimension, loving energies. Again I begin to cry even more intensely as emotions of unworthiness, I-don’t-deserve, and sadness flood my heart and mind. 

You Don’t Have To Live Here 

Finally I recall a metaphor that Keith shared in the first session with my Sun Course, clear back in July of 2010. 

In this metaphor, Keith described a rundown living quarters filled with cockroaches, surrounded by a neighborhood overflowing with drug dealers, gang violence, and crime. 

“You don’t have to live there to clean it up.” Keith had told my friend. “You can first move to a higher-vibration energy state. Once in your new home, you can clean up the mess from a place of greater clarity and awareness.” 

I suddenly recognize that I am stuck in a very low-energy place – that I have now felt it to the very bottom. I believe myself to have learned my lessons. I deeply understand the self-hatred and I feel its profound power. I have ground my face in the sand long enough. It is time to get up on the surf board and get on top of the rolling waves of divine energy. 

The Reality Of Love 

I try and try, but my efforts to move to a higher place seem in vain. 

“I am simply observing The Muppet Show.” I remind myself over and over again. “I am in a nightmare. None of this is real. This is merely energy from the past that still lives inside of me. It is only memories, memories that are nothing but energy. It is time to wake up from this dream.” 

I again go into the metaphors of the movie “Inception.” Repeatedly, I remind myself that I am only dreaming, lost in a lower-energy world, a world that continues to live inside of me, a world with unbelievable power.  

Finally, after repeated struggles and intense effort, I feel myself successfully returning to the present-day reality of unconditional love. 

A Fire Hose 

Once back in a place of loving empowerment, I again beg Higher Self and Sharon for some energetic assistance. 

Quite soon, I am hooking up an imaginary fire hose to my tummy, visualizing those hate-filled emotions flowing out of my abdomen, through the hose, and out to the angels who will transmute the dense energies back into light. 

Next, I ask these disgusting energies to filter through my own heart, feeling as if my own self-love should be the first energy to touch them. But as I experience the energy flow through my heart chakra, I begin to feel considerable pain and prickly-ness. Deciding that this is too much for me to handle right now, I make a compromise, asking the angels to directly take anything that I am unable to handle. 

Gradually I ask the higher energies to crank up the volume to maximum capacity and speed. I sit in this beautiful meditative state for the remainder of our Thursday morning meditation. I imagine the angels moving the bottom of the hose around in my inner temple, sucking up every last piece of that inner waste, joyfully assisting in my process. 

I again attempt to visualize my inner temple as being clean and sparkling … but to my dismay, I continue to sense that it remains coated with disgusting waste. 

“Perhaps it just needs a good scrubbing now?” I begin to reassure myself. “After all, I did feel considerable quantities of dense energy flowing out of me.” 

Making It Up? 

“How are you doing?” Keith again asks as meditation ends. 

I briefly share the main details of my powerful meditative journey. 

“I often feel as if I am just making it all up.” I then confess to Keith. 

“But it feels true … like something energetically real is actually happening.” I add. “I know I just need to trust myself more – that all will be clear as the results settle in.” 

Always when I simply allow myself to trust – when I allow myself to let the process unfold over time – I am repeatedly blown away by the actual power of this inner meditative work.  

Today, a little internal voice simply reassures me, “Yes Brenda … continue to trust … what you did today was indeed powerful … give it more time … you will see that everything is perfect.” 

Slow Down Brenda 

With my mind so frazzled, I cannot even imagine trying to write today so instead I make a quick decision to take a boat trip to Panajachel. I need cash and supplies, and hope to possibly connect with a friend via Skype as well. 

But everything seems to frustrate my intentions. When I arrive in Panajachel I discover that I left my purse in San Marcos. I have no money to pay the boat captain. Luckily I do have my backpack and my debit card. I hurry to the bank, withdraw some much-needed cash, get some change and rush back to the boat before the captain leaves. Twenty minutes later, I am exhausted as I begin walking back into Panajachel. 

“Slow down Brenda,” I tell myself as something inside pushes me to run. “Relax and take it easy. You have the whole day ahead of you.” 

But for some unexplainable reason, something inside will not slow down. I push myself rapidly to the vegetable market, then to several other western-type grocery stores. A couple of hours later, my backpack is filled with so many food items that my shoulders ache when I attempt to walk. 

The pain and a new headache are so intense that I give up on a visit to the internet café. The thought of attempting a Skype call to friends only causes more frustration. 

A New Direction 

After a long grueling walk back to the boats, my driver seems to putt-putt across the lake at a snail’s pace. Eventually, as I arrive back home, I am so exhausted that the only thing that sounds appealing is a long snooze in the neighbor’s hammock. The adjacent apartment is empty and the hammock and deck are quite inviting. 

I almost giggle as I attempt to maneuver my way into the hammock with a warm blanket wrapped tightly around my body. To my shock, I get half-way into it when the mesh maze suddenly twists sideways. A fraction of a second later, I am on the wooden deck with a painful carpet-burn-like scrape on my right elbow. 

“I guess that option is out” I giggle as I head straight for bed, not even grabbing lunch. I am just too exhausted to do anything else. I have to rest. 

An Amazing Meditation 

As my head hits the pillow, a little voice whispers silently, “Now sit up on your pillow and meditate.” 

“Huh” I think to myself. “I’m achy and exhausted. I don’t want to meditate. I can’t meditate.” 

“Sit up and meditate.” The feeling repeats itself over and over. 

Finally I surrender, pile two pillows in the center of my bed, and cross my legs beneath me. To my amazement, I sit cross-legged, with no back support, meditating for three full hours. I barely move my legs just a couple of times during the entire process. 

“Pain is resistance.” The voices whisper in my head. “Push your way through the pain. Bring in the higher energies to transmute the pain.” 

To my shock and delight, it works. When I feel pain, and I do initially feel a considerable amount, especially in my back, I simply imagine high-vibration healing energies flowing in and through the pain, seeing the sharp aches as nothing but emotional densities that can be released to the angels.

At 5:00 p.m. I opt to lie down, continuing my meditations for an additional hour and a half. The energy flow in my body is amazing, unbelievable. My hands vibrate like they have never vibrated before. Every pain simply melts and fades away. I initially feel considerable resistance in both my solar plexus and my heart chakras, but eventually, as I lovingly and gently move through that resistance, my entire body vibrates with delightful energy. 

Over time, I feel long-forgotten energy stability returning to my lower four chakras – as if long-rejected parts of my energy field are beginning to return.  

By 6:30 p.m., four and a half hours after beginning my reluctant meditation, I finally decide that it is time to stop – time to eat – time to actually get some very much needed sleep. 

“Thank you Universe for getting me to go to bed at 2:00 p.m. so that I would meditate.” I giggle to myself as I finally drift off to sleep. 

Double Stings 

“There’s something crawling on my left shoulder,” I suddenly realize as I awaken from what was actually a very deep sleep.  

I am sleeping on my right side, with my shoulder exposed above me. With automatic reflex movements, I instinctively lift my right hand from the sheet and swat at the unknown little creature that dares to invade my private space. 

Suddenly something unseen falls onto the dark bed beside my right elbow. 

Instantly I experience a stinging pain, as if someone just injected a hypodermic needle filled with fire directly into my right arm – on the back side just above the elbow. Milliseconds later I also feel the same excruciating pain on the outer side of my left shoulder.  

“I have just been stung twice by the same scorpion.” I suddenly realize. 

What To Do? 

In sheer panic I leap from my bed to find the light switch; both of my arms are now throbbing with intense pain. For some strange reason, the first thing I do is look at the clock. It reads exactly 11:30 p.m.. 

I search and search my room, finding absolutely nothing. Carefully I remove my blanket, fold it up, and place it in the adjacent bedroom. Next, I remove the top sheet and also fold it up too. Still nothing! 

Realizing that the stealth invader has disappeared from the radar, I give up my search. I have something much more pressing to deal with – the pain and fear associated with two quick-succession scorpion stings. 

I have no idea as to the severity of my throbbing wounds – as to the danger of scorpion venom in Guatemala. My first thought is to rush over to Keith’s home to wake him up, to ask for help and advice. But first I decide to get online and check the internet. 

Spiritual Message 

To my surprise and delight, one of my Guatemala friends – a friend who just happened to be stung by a scorpion on her finger last week – a friend who is currently in New York on a short trip – just happens to be awake and on Facebook at 2:00 a.m. eastern time. 

“Scorpion stings in Guatemala are not deadly,” my friend immediately reassures me, “and scorpions bring a powerful spiritual message of change and transformation.” 

I too have a strong energetic feeling telling me that the two stings, one on each arm, are indeed a spiritual message.  

After posting a very upbeat status message on Facebook, I set out to find ways to be positive – ways to look for the buried treasure in the whole experience. After all, it has already happened. There is absolutely nothing I can do about that fact, but I do have complete creative freedom in how I choose to respond. 

All Is My Creation 

The severe pain only lasts about two hours, but the toxins that quickly spread create little painful areas in my chest and abdomen – plus my throat is scratchy and my lips began to feel as if I were just coming home from the dentist, tingling like they are just starting to wake up from anesthesia. 

But the energy in my body is amazing. Not only am I alive with spiritual energies, but the toxins of the scorpion facilitate an additional high. I feel vibrations throughout my entire body, as if I am about to float away into another dimension. 

Finally, after still finding no hiding scorpions, I get the courage to replace the sheet and blanket on my bed at around 2:00 a.m.. Understandably, I am still quite nervous about potential creepy crawlies as I cautiously slip under my covers, not quite sure what to expect.

But I also glow with trust that all is exactly as I created it; after all, I do believe that I create my reality. 

The Adventure 

At 4:00 a.m. on Friday morning, the dancing youth crank up the speakers in the basketball court. 

“It looks like I only get a couple of hours of sleep tonight.” I tell myself exhaustedly, of course realizing that I did in fact get nearly three hours before the scorpion first stung me. 

I actually decide to go to 7:00 a.m. meditation on Keith’s porch. I am distracted, and beginning to recognize myself in a small ego-loop – observing one part of myself wish it had more love and sympathy from friends, feeling all alone and resenting that it needs to be strong. 

I simply observe this part of me, again working on “Know thyself.” I am fine right now, and I will continue to be fine. In fact, I am actually quite excited about the adventure of it all. 

Meditative Bliss Revisited 

After a quick breakfast I simply do not feel like writing. Nope, it is not going to happen. No, I don’t feel sick, but I am wired, my whole body continues to vibrate, and my lips are still tingly. I know I will simply not be able to concentrate. 

Feeling deeply exhausted, I quickly go to bed with intentions of taking a nap – but as with yesterday afternoon, the little Jedi voices in my head will not let me get away with that trick. 

“Sit up and meditate again.” The voices insist. 

I soon comply with that inner guidance, still knowing that resistance is futile. 

For an hour and a half, I enter another meditative bliss – experiencing beautiful energy while pondering on the intuitive words of a friend from back home. 

An Inspired Message 

Upon returning from early morning meditation, I had been pleased to discover that my friend Mont, a beautiful man and an incredible crystal healer, sent me a message. I loved his words: 

“Wow! That is an interesting experience to be sure! I’m getting that your ‘visitor’ is showing you an emotional, elusive pain that leaves a physical mark. Something you are going to ‘dig deep’ to find. But once you do, it will be painfully obvious and easily removed. Look for a hard shell (defense) pinchers (grasp/hold) multiple legs (to evade) and a stinger (to get attention). Sounds like a fun session! Here’s a hint: in your session, become one with the scorpion and look at your history together from his/her perspective.”

Meditative Insights 

As I meditate on Mont’s message, pondering just what the “emotional and elusive pain” might be, it suddenly becomes quite clear to me that my self-hatred is deeply emotional and that it has been extremely elusive throughout my life. 

Almost instantly, another intuitive thought flashes into my mind, telling me that all of the physical densities in my body – the sore back, shoulders, jaw, joints, and muscles – are nothing but dense energy dispersed and hidden through my body.  

“Of course,” I think to myself, “that inner temple covered by human waste is my body itself – and the disgusting waste that will not go away is all of that elusive self-hatred.” 

For the remainder of this delightful meditation, I go deeper and deeper into the wonderful world of energy, beginning to stretch and send loving energies throughout the tight, constricted areas of my body, determined to send love to every area that hurts. 

The meditation seems to be working amazingly well. Shortly before 11:30 a.m., however, I decide to continue the meditation lying down, recognizing that I can more thoroughly relax the densities if I am reclining. 

I feel so alive, so filled with loving energy. Eagerly I lay my head back on the pillow as I stretch my bare legs down toward the end of my bed, letting them drop lightly onto the top of a little red woolen blanket. 

Stinging Times Three 

“OUCH!” I exclaim as I feel another hypodermic needle-filled-with-fire pierce my skin, this one entering the muscle of my left leg on the back side, just above my knee..

Immediately retracting my legs, I jump out of bed, race for the light switch, and spy the ugly and repulsive culprit still hiding under a wrinkled fold of the blanket. I again glance quickly at the clock. To my shock, it is exactly 11:30 a.m.. 

“Hmm,” I pause briefly. “There is that same number again … three stings, and all of them at 11:30. I wonder what that means?” 

As I quickly return to focus on my perpetrator, I am quite shocked. He is much bigger and much more haunting than I expected – having a body about 1.25 inches in length with pinchers that stick another inch out in front, and a long stinger-terminated curved tail that stretches about two additional inches to the back. 

Seconds later, the little bugger is safely caged in a large kitchen glass. 

A Scorpion Saga 

The rest is another very long story … a story that will be told some other day. Suffice it to say that this third sting turns out to be the most painful of all. 

Friday afternoon through Monday morning evolve into an incredible and intensified journey of self healing – a journey that brings profound insights into the self-hatred, deeper explorations into ego, and some much needed self-love and physical rest. With profound confidence and trust, I believe that each of these painful-but-powerful stings was a necessary part of my journey, and I am indeed grateful for it all. 

Today I am finally feeling capable of resuming my writing as I take a momentary leap forward in time to share a glimpse of these current experiences. 

Provided that nothing else slows me down, I plan to resume my intense writing marathon tomorrow. Sorry, but you will have to wait for the rest of the scorpion saga. Beginning in the morning I will return back in time, continuing from where I last left off. 

I am indeed truly grateful for this six-day interlude in my writing – a very painful but amazing scorpion saga. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Here is round two of my long-overdue photos. As usual, each photo displayed is a thumbnail image. If you desire to see the full-resolution photo, simply click on the image. This allows you to view or download.

Miscellaneous Chocolate Ceremony Photos

Keith drinking his chocolate, beginning another ceremony.

Vanessa sitting next to me … 

Me, in my favorite spot, right by Keith’s kitchen door. Keith in the background.

A few people on the porch. Dana sitting on the bench in the middle. Anton, seated meditating on the floor.

Keith seated on the ground, working individually with the young man in the chair. My friend Rachel is doing some energy work on his heart chakra.

Semana Santa Rehersal

Beginning in early March, local catholics begin to do an every-Friday-afternoon Easter parade. In the center background, you can see Christ carrying his cross. In this photo, the worshipers have briefly stopped for a short devotional.

Another view of the parade. These local men are carrying the statue of Christ on their backs.

Mystical Yoga Farm

I have talked about the Mystical Yoga Farm several times in my blog. It resides in a sheltered little cove on the other side of the lake, behind the San Pedro volcano. It is a beautiful little retreat center.

Prior to our March 12 ceremony at the yoga farm, we drank our cacao in the kitchen area. Keith is seated on the ground, surrounded by several of the participants.

Another view of drinking chocolate in the kitchen area. Keith on far right.

Meditating in the outdoor pavilion, near the lake, at the start of the actual ceremony.

More meditating at the start of ceremony. You can see a volcano across the lake at the upper right. The town of Santiago is right at the foot of this volcano.

Two more of the amazing yoga students.

And two more. This is not the best photo, but you can see the lake and some of the shoreline on the far side. The Yoga farm is situated on a small inlet of the lake, sandwiched between two volcanoes.

Anton

Anton resting on Keith’s porch with the main healer working on him. This healer-cat is named Squeaky, because she talks about literally everything.

Another view of Squeaky the healer-cat, enjoying the high-vibration energy emanating from Anton’s chest.

Me and my friend Anton after one of the ceremonies on March 14.

Back to the Mystical Yoga Farm

On March 24, several of us joined Keith back at the yoga farm for a three-day retreat that he was leading.

My dear friend Jody — roommate for a week in early January. This photo was taken near the San Pedro boat dock, our first stop in traveling to the yoga farm.

Another dear friend, Barbara. I met her at my very first ceremony with Keith, clear back in July of 2010.

Jody and I at the San Pedro boat dock. I have to giggle because Jody gave me the NBA sweatshirt when she flew back to Australia to be with her grandmother in November. When Jody returned in January, I asked her if she wanted it back … but she let me keep it. I love this sweatshirt on a cold day.

Keith and Lital (spelling?) standing near the San Pedro boat dock. Keith was negotiating with the man in this booth to rent a private boat shuttle to take us the rest of the way to the yoga farm.

We got our private shuttle boat, making the remainder of our trip much easier and faster. This is me on the boat as we zoom across Lake Atitlan.

The front of the boat with our luggage. On the front bench are Keith and Barbara. Jody is just at the right edge of the photo. My red backpack is right in the center of the luggage.

Beautiful Lital from Israel. Her sister Dana was in a previous photo sitting on a bench on Keith’s porch.

Looking out the back of the boat with a view of our driver. As fate would have it, this is the exact same driver that drove us on the public boat from San Marcos to San Pedro. His boat was available so we ended up hiring him to take us the rest of the way.

Keith and Barbara at the start of the first ceremony of our three-day retreat at the Mystical Yoga Farm.

Vedantin (right) and Randi (left) at the start of the ceremony.

These two local men were carrying huge loads of firewood on their backs. I can only presume that they are carrying it back to their village about ten minutes up the lake. I tried to get a better photo, but this is the best I could to. They were walking very fast, and we were in the middle of a ceremony. The obstacle at the top left is one of the hammocks in the outdoor pavilion.

I love this photo of two local Mayan men paddling by in their canoe. They are wearing traditional clothing for the area, and as many do here at the lake, they are standing while paddling.

A view of the volcano across the lake. At the bottom left you can see traces of the town of Santiago.

From the end of the yoga farm’s boat dock, looking back toward shore. The first round-top grass roof is the outdoor pavilion where we held our chocolate ceremonies.

Me sitting on the end of the boat dock, enjoying a beautiful view as we prepare for early morning meditation.

Another view of the volcano across the lake. In the right foreground is the same canoe headed in the opposite direction, minus one passenger.

From the boat dock, looking east along the shore. Just to the right of the three tall trees, you can barely see a scarecrow. This is a small farm where some of the locals grow vegetables.

Same as previous photo, only zoomed in. You can now easily see the make-shift scarecrow and lots of corn growing.

Keith and Barbara enjoying the end of the boat dock.

Vedantin meditating on the end of the boat dock.

Slumber Party

As you may recall from my writing, on March 27, I was delighted to host a large extended family of nine for a large slumber party in my apartment. I had the two Mayan priestess (shaman) women, their brother, their sister, and five young children. It was quite the fun evening.

This is three of the young boys preparing to sleep on the floor between my two spare twin beds. The floor was covered by camping pads, courtesy of Keith.

A sister of the Mayan priestesses (in the colorful top) and the other two children. They were all so well behaved. I had a blast playing hostess to this beautiful extended family — an experience I wrote about in my blog “A Cultural Sandwich”.

Trip To The Mountains

On March 29, several of us set out on a trip to go visit the same Mayan family, this time at their home high up in the mountains, a few hours from Lake Atitlan. This is the same family that several of us visited on January 18.

Skye (left) and Lital, standing in the back of a moving pickup. This was our transport for the first leg of our trip to the mountains. We had a beautiful view of the lake below as we wound our way up the mountain switchbacks.

Me standing in the back of the same moving pickup. In this photo, we are winding our way along the shoreline road between San Marcos and San Pablo.

Looking forward as we begin to wind our way up the mountainside.

My beautiful friend Joy (in foreground) and Isaias, Keith’s trusty helper and my dear friend just above Joy’s right hand.

One of the young boys who slept at my house … but this time we are at his home in the mountains. I found this fascinating. You cannot see it well in this photo, but the family had this cat tied up to the post. Apparently, it had been a bad kitty, sneaking into the kitchen and eating some of the chicken which was being prepared for our visit.

Another photo of the naughty kitty tied up to the post. The kitty doesn’t look very happy.

Isaias and his beautiful wife, posing in front of a small store.

Me with four beautiful little boys — the same ones who slept over at my home two nights earlier. I had a blast playing with them, and they seemed to take a liking to me too.

One of the Mayan Priestesses (shaman) preparing the ceremonial fire, right in their yard. You can barely see Isaias in the background.

Isaias and the two shaman women. (sorry, not a very good photo)

Our group of six standing in the front yard of the Mayan family. It was nearly 11 p.m., we had finished the fire ceremony and then enjoyed a beautiful chicken soup (in spite of the kitty).

Lots of little orbs showed up on this photo … not sure if my camera lens is dirty, but it seems quite clear on other photos.

On April 10: Joy and Skye dancing around in my kitchen/living area. (Skye in stripped blue). Skye had put on a fun song that they both loved, and they went crazy. I loved it … I loved them … I miss them both.

Still April 10 — the day before Skye flew home to Canada. This is our last breakfast together. They made me a delicious bowl of fruit and a yummy smoothy. Left to right: Skye, Me, Joy.

This is a view of my apartment as seen from the kitchen sink. The daybed is in the back left corner. The uncomfy sofa (wood with cushions stuffed with rags) is on the back right. My bedroom is the first door on the left. Their bedroom is the second door on the left.

Joy, climbing my steps from the path below, giving me a playful warning snarl. “Don’t mess with me!”

Joy and Skye (Skye has the green sleeves). As you may recall, Skye is the younger sister of my dear friend Rae who was here from mid January until early March.

Another fun photo of Joy and Skye.

Me with Joy.

And another of me with Joy.

Me with Skye.

And one final shot of me with Skye on my patio.

Skye at her going away dinner, later that night at the local Japanese restaurant.

Keith doing a really cool energy thing on Veronica, with Joy sitting on the right. Somehow, Keith makes really fast clicks with his fingernails and moves his hands quickly in circular motions, causing an amazing sensation. I love having this done to me.

Semana Santa and Feria

Every year San Marcos celebrates it’s patron saint day, the birthday of Saint Mark. This year, Easter Sunday fell in the very same week, causing for a double celebration.

This is the local catholic church (less than 75 yards from my apartment). It was decorated for the festivities.

Obviously, this is not of Holy week or Saint Mark’s birthday — but I took this picture in the same group. This is looking at the bridge that was badly damaged last May during Tropical Storm Agatha. You can see how efforts are being made to rebuild this wall before rainy season hits this year.

From the same spot, looking up the river channel. Most of the damage of the collapsed walls has been repaired, but it is kind of make-shift, pieced together in a haphazard way. Already, we have had one severe two hour cloudburst that has partially deposited rocks in this channel.

One of the official Friday evening Semana Santa (Holy Week) procession. This is an early morning parade on the Friday before Easter Here the procession walks along the river channel, carrying a statue of Mary.

I did not get photos of the evening procession … I was coming home from Keith’s porch just as it passed by, and I did not have a camera.

View of a home complex, just up from the procession, quite close to the river channel.

Another view of the procession marching along.

Two men in the procession … one carrying a large drum, the other beating it slowly as the group walks …

Mother Mary, being caried on the shoulders of worshipers during the Friday morning parade.

More of the procession on Friday morning.

And another shot from a slightly different perspective. The young men in the front are swinging incense burners in front of the procession.

One of the streets on which the procession passed. Notice all the leaves on the cobblestone.

The approaching procession is in the far distance. I found this arch quite interesting. It was placed here for the procession, with lots of various kinds of fruits hanging from above.

A local school band practicing in a nearby schoolyard, preparing for the Feria festivities (which start officially the day after Easter).

The main street of San Marcos is lined by a huge assortment of street vendors/booths. Many of them sell these type of donut-like biscuits — a cookie-like donut that is very hard and crunchy. They must really like them to have so many booths selling them.

At least four or five of the booths in this photo sell only the donut-looking biscuits … and they have huge baskets of them.

This is the store where I buy all of my five-gallon water jugs. If you notice on the right side of the photo, there is a man there with a broom. He is right at the top of the main path that runs north-south from the center of town toward the boat docks. I live about 50 feet down this path.

All of the remaining photos were taken two days later on April 25, the day after Easter. This is what the main street of San Marcos looked like that evening. Not visible, but just to my immediate right is the basketball court. I bought several pizza slices at a couple of the booths on the right.

A shop that sells a huge assortment of CDs and DVDs.

Another shop …

And another …

Many vendors simply  placed their for-sale items in the middle of the street.

Care for a mango, cut watermelon, or large grapes, etc…

One of the donut-like biscuit vendors hard at work.

A large assortment of mugs and miscellaneous ceramics, right in the middle of the road.

A sign in front of the catholic church, in honor of the patron saint. In English, the words read: Welcome, Patron Fair, In honor of Saint Mark the Evangilist (Saint Mark = San Marcos).

I could not resist this photo. The annual fair includes several nights of live entertainment in the basketball court. This is one of four huge arrays of speakers set up in the basketball court. Two of them were like this, two were slightly smaller. On this one I count thirty speakers.

Even a single speaker of this size, when cranked up to full volume, can rattle my home. I live on the second floor, less than 150 feet due south of the basketball court. The roof of the basketball court is shaped in such a way that it funnels all sound due south and due north, like magnifying cones.

One night, in my apartment, I tried to watch a movie during a concert. It was so loud that even with my external computer speakers cranked up to full volume and held just an inch from each ear, I could barely hear the sound above the concert noises. My whole body literally shook and vibrated with every sound coming from the concert .

All I can say is “I had a great time learning how to not be attached to a traditional definition of peace.”

The stage on one end of the basketball court. (There were two stages, one on each end). This shows a beautiful angle of the mountains above San Marcos on the north side of the basketball court.

There are several huge speakers up on the stage itself, and two large arrays (not visible) on either side.

A few people beginning to gather before one of the events.

This little stand is selling cut-up fruit in the plastic bags … mangos, payayas, and watermellon.

An ice cream vendor (Helados = ice cream). Sorry it is blurry.

A street food vendor selling fried chicken and french fries. I never got around to sampling this fancy cuisine.

Another view of the street, with the Ferris Wheel in the background. This is the only carnival-type ride in town. There were two portable buildings erected behind the Ferris Wheel for really old out-dated video games — even some like Pong and Pac Man …

Thursday evening, while resting on my pillow, I am overwhelmed by the intensity of what just unfolded on Keith’s porch – by the intensity of emotion that my little four-year-old self had been carrying around through all of these years. As I drift off to sleep, gratitude for the emotional release swells in my heart – but a profound awareness also tells me that I am not yet done, that more early childhood emotion yet remains to be uncovered, examined, felt to the core, and released. 

Time Twists 

After a peaceful and relaxed Friday morning, I slip on my flip-flops and begin another ten-minute journey – one that I now feel as if I could make blindfolded at midnight in a torrential rain storm. Yes, I have walked this beautiful path to Keith’s home many more times than I could count – and I love the journey every time. 

One single day seems like an eternity, yet weeks seem to flash by in what feel like seconds. On this eighth day of April, I feel as if I have been working with childhood shutdown issues for many decades. 

But last night’s process still dominates my thoughts. 

Dizzy Delight 

Several times I awoke during the night, again feeling quite dizzy. This morning, as I rest, read, and meditate, the dizzy spells randomly continue. Still, my heart remains peaceful and content, confidently reassuring me that the swirling in my head is similar to what happens when a foot has been asleep. As the blood first rushes back in, the foot initially feels quite painful and disoriented. 

“Yes,” my heart whispers, “the dizziness is the same as a foot waking up. The confusing sensations are merely part of the awakening of areas long deprived of life-force energies.” 

With this perspective of confidence, I consider the dizzy spells to be delightful. I cannot wait to see what shut-down part of me wakes up next. 

Return to Chaos 

After an hour of drinking chocolate, introductory discussion, and go-to-glow meditations, Keith begins individual work, immediately turning to work with me. 

“I would like to continue yesterday’s process.” I share with Keith. “Something tells me I have only scratched the surface of what happened to me as a child.” 

Just as Keith begins to guide me into meditation, my favorite star-healer from yesterday wanders up to the porch and asks if she can join the ceremony. For the next twenty minutes, Keith engages this woman from New York in what I perceive as meaningless conversations that wastes valuable time. 

“Just hand her a glass of chocolate and tell her to shut up.” I ponder judgmentally as I feel myself momentarily slipping into victimhood, annoyed at my process being interrupted. 

My loving-observer part gently reassures me that this entire interruption is my creation – that my energy asked for it – that it is part of my process – that I need to find a space of unconditional love – and that there is a hidden treasure to be found. 

During these twenty minutes of interruption I rapidly sink back into the energetic chaos of how a beautiful four-year-old boy felt while being bombarded with distracting energies that disconnected him from his magical unconditionally-loving self. 

These throbbing chaotic energies seem to enter through my third eye area, first pounding around inside of my head, then migrating down into my heart chakra where they punch me energetically with even more painful force.

As Keith finally resumes the ceremony and immediately turns back to me, I know exactly why I needed the interruption of the previous twenty minutes. 

“Thank you Keith,” I smile, “This little interruption has served me quite well. I am right back where I need to be, deeply experiencing that painful chaos in my heart.” 

Serg-ical Interruption 

The moment I finish sharing my insights with Keith, Serg immediately launches into deep emotional pain related to his own traumatic childhood shutdown, into the victimization that he felt as a child, and into his God/Separation drama. 

As if on cue, Keith immediately leaves me to follow my own metaphorical threads while turning to work with my friend and mirror.  

Rather than feeling annoyed by this second interruption, I choose to remain in my empowered state, again recognizing that everything is my creation, that this process is unfolding outside of me for a very good reason. 

Reflected Issues 

Literally everything that Keith discusses with Serg deeply resonates with me and my own emotional journey. It is as if Keith is speaking directly to me, focusing on my own childhood pain. The only difference being that he is looking at Serg when he speaks. 

As I sink deeper into this new emotional release process, Keith soon returns to work with me. 

Interruptions Galore 

I explain my powerful insights regarding how Serg’s work has deeply triggered and assisted me, helping me to go even deeper. But rather than remaining to work with me, Keith suddenly begins to move on to work with someone else. 

“You are interrupting me yet again?” I ask Keith with shock. “It seems like every time we start something today, you immediately abandon me to work with someone else.” 

I quickly explain to Keith my sudden burst of insight – an insight that tells me that these interruptions are actually serving me. 

“It seems that most of my life I have not felt as if I deserved help and attention.” I tell Keith with unfolding clarity. “If anyone else’s problem was more important than mine I was abandoned and ignored while the other person’s issues were addressed.” 

“I would never speak up or say anything.” I add with emphasis. “I would simply become more invisible, sitting back and accepting that I don’t deserve … that I don’t get the help that I desire and need.” 

There’s A Devil Inside 

As Keith immediately guides me into an inner meditation, my abdomen begins to hurt with a vengeance. A feeling of considerable sharpness begins to poke me from the inside, painfully moving around the area of my belly button. 

“What cartoon-like character is in your abdomen?” Keith asks with a grin. 

I ponder for several minutes, but nothing comes to mind. I soon ask Keith if he would mind giving me a clue. 

“You have a little devil in there with a pitch fork.” Keith unexpectedly gives me the answer. “It is poking you from the inside of your belly.” 

Keith goes on to explain that my religious upbringing filled me with structured ideas about what God is – ideas that did not line up with my own perception of the divine energies flowing inside of me. The end result of this dilemma is that when I finally gave up and succumbed to the citizen-factory programming being thrust upon me, I literally felt as if I had a devil inside of me. 

I Don’t Deserve … 

A few minutes later, as I listen to Keith work with a beautiful woman across the porch, I listen intently as she explains her feelings to Keith. 

“I feel like I don’t deserve…” She begins her sentence to Keith. 

This simple sequence of six words suddenly unleashes painful energies that begin to poke me all over in my heart. 

Tears begin to stream down my cheeks as I deeply experience the effects of those simple words: “I don’t deserve.” 

Through most of my life, this underlying energy has ruled my behavior, causing me to hide in shadows, to step out of the way for others who seemed to be more important than me, to deprive myself of basic self-love at times when I needed it the most. 

“Good, Brenda,” Keith immediately speaks from across the porch. “This is a great breakthrough.” 

“Now take your little girl’s hand,” Keith briefly guides me, “and ask her to show you more about what you need to work on.” 

Dancing Angels 

“Little Sharon took me down some stairs and showed me a disgusting room.” I tell Keith when he later returns to work with me. 

“The bottom two feet of the room were completely filled with what intuitively felt like human waste” I add with hesitation. “I was so distracted by that process that I did not stay there.” 

“Call in a crew of angels with buckets,” Keith immediately guides me, “and go back down there. Put your Higher Self in charge of the crew and ask the angels to clean out the room for you.” 

Within about thirty seconds of visualizing this process, I begin to sob. My heart is warmly overwhelmed by the loving assistance that I feel as I imagine the angels singing and dancing, lovingly cleaning up the horrible brown waste that drowns this metaphorical room. 

Family Service

Briefly, my memories flash to an experience that happened when I was probably around nine years old. I had been wandering the neighborhood, taking on odd jobs to earn some spending money. An older gentleman living just around the corner from my home had hired me to clear all of the weeds from a nearby vacant lot. He offered to pay me the whopping sum of $6.00 US – a huge sum for a young child in the early 1960s. 

I slaved in that vacant lot for what felt like days, struggling to cut through the jungle of weeds. As I was on the verge of giving up with failure, my parents suddenly came to the rescue, organizing a family gathering to support and to help me. In one long evening, my parents, brother and two sisters all helped me to successfully finish clearing the weeds from that huge lot. 

I was deeply grateful for that unexpected loving support that helped me complete a seemingly impossible and difficult task. 

Tears of Loving Gratitude 

Tears continue to swell and stream down my cheeks as I bask in the love that I feel as I now imagine these loving angels performing another seemingly impossible and disgusting task. So much beautiful unconditional love pours through my heart as I sit back and watch them unselfishly doing the work for me. 

At times the tears reach the level of deep sobbing, coming and going in intense waves while I continue to envision this room being lovingly cleaned by dancing and singing angels. 

But try as I might, no matter how much I attempt to imagine it, the room never gets fully clean. The floor and walls continue to remain covered by an inch or two of yucky, brown, disgusting waste. 

I ask my little inner child, Sharon, to wave her wand around. Momentarily, I see beautiful sparkling tile show through as the waste briefly disappears, but almost immediately the layers again return, refusing to allow the room to be fully cleansed. 

An Inner Temple 

Suddenly I burst into another round of even more intense tears as another realization floods my conscious mind. 

“This room is my inner temple.” I tell Keith when he returns to work with me. “My inner temple is clogged and covered by layers of horrible human waste.” 

Over time, my emotions stabilize and I begin to feel a deeply renewed energy in my hands – but the room continues to feel soiled and contaminated. 

As the ceremony nears conclusion, my inner temple remains only partially cleansed, but a strong sense of peace whispers all is well – that the job will be completed later. 

With a giggle in my eye, I grab a spoon and stick it into a nearby plastic container, quickly scooping two heaping spoonfuls of panela into my mouth. Panela is an unprocessed cane sugar – dried and then shaved into small chunks. We use it to sweeten our chocolate at the beginning of ceremonies. As Friday evening quickly fades, my little inner child tells me that she wants more sweetness in her life. I eagerly comply with this request. 

As I stroll homeward, I am thrilled by my progress in uncovering further mysteries of my childhood shutdown, but I also intuitively know that much remains to be explored. I am excited to continue. 

Faux Fashion Fantasies 

After a beautiful Saturday of writing and socializing, I am right back at Keith’s magical porch on Sunday afternoon. I have no idea what I will discover, but my eagerness to explore pushes me onward into the unknown. 

As Keith guides one woman deep into her subconscious, I choose to follow along and participate in my own self-guided process. 

Soon, I find myself in a small waiting room. There is only one chair and a small table. Lying face up on the lone table is a women’s fashion magazine. 

As I sit down, I feel as if I am waiting for some type of “expert” to walk into the waiting room – an expert who will soon call me into his office to provide me with the help that I seek. But all of my attention quickly focuses on the magazine. 

Such a magazine is filled with articles, stories, and adds, telling me how to dress, how to apply makeup, how to act, how to think, how to be in a relationship, how to be … blah blah blah. 

In my late thirties and early forties, I spent countless hours devouring such magazines, hoping to find some type of guidance that would teach me how to more adequately fit in as a woman striving to adapt to and belong in the competitive world around me. 

“Isn’t it interesting,” I think to myself, “that I am relying on this magazine to give me outside opinions that will make me successful, pretty, loved, sexy, etc… 

The message of my subconscious is clear. I have spent far too much time in my life waiting for outside experts to tell me who I am and how I should think and behave. The guidance I really crave – the guidance I actually need – comes only from my heart. 

A Question of Deserving 

Later in the ceremony, I again focus on the mild headache that continues to cloud the front of my forehead; it is a heavy feeling telling me that I am still blocked in my third-eye chakra. This mild headache has been making its presence known at almost every ceremony now for what feels like weeks.

“Pain is resistance.” I remind myself. “I wonder what it is that I continue to resist here in my third-eye chakra.” 

I feel helpless and hopeless in discovering the answer. I have tried many times, and the intuitions continue to elude me. Today I would like to take a stab at perhaps uncovering another layer of the mystery, but I have no clue as to how to begin. 

I remember that Keith frequently tells me that there are many things in our spiritual journey that we simply cannot do by ourselves without higher assistance. He likens the experience to someone walking along a trail, suddenly arriving at a wall of glass that is five meters tall. Without special equipment, no human can scale such an obstacle by themselves. 

Keith teaches that at such points in our path, we need to humble ourselves and ask for help from higher energies such as our Higher Self. This act of asking is actually an important part of our process. 

“Higher Self,” I begin to plead in my meditation. “I am stuck here. I haven’t got a clue how to proceed and I could really use some assistance now. Would you please help me with this obstacle in my spiritual path?” 

As I go through the meditative-motions of asking for help, I begin to sink deeply into emotional and tear-filled resistance. 

“I am feeling undeserving again.” I tell Keith as he responds to my surge of emotion. “I don’t feel worthy of assistance from my Higher Self.” 

“Brenda,” Keith quickly points out, “the emotion that you just blocked was your Higher Self actually sending you unconditional love.” 

Again, I push forward in my meditative journey. Repeatedly I go back to asking Higher Self for help. Over and over my heart is overwhelmed by tender emotions – joyful emotions of finally allowing myself to begin receiving assistance that I have previously not allowed. I almost laugh out loud as I imagine a group of giggling angels lovingly helping me to do something that I am incapable of doing by myself. 

Front Row Seat 

Suddenly, a new metaphor pops into my mind. 

My left-brain self is sitting in the front row of a large movie theatre. I have an unlimited supply of popcorn, soda, and candy. 

A feeling of relief floods my heart as I realize that I can simply sit here and watch the movie. I don’t need to be in charge of creating the script, of directing all the actors, and of trying to project every scene in the exact way that I think it should go. 

No, I can simply sit here on the front row and let my right-brain operate the projector. 

“This will be really fun.” I reassure myself as I imagine myself further surrendering control to my intuitive side. 

“You might want to consider giving that part of yourself a headset/microphone link.” Keith suggests after listening to my current adventure. 

Keith explains that by doing so, my left-brain rational mind will not feel left out and rejected. If it ever sees something in the movie that it would like to change or modify, it can simply relay the suggestion to right-brain via the headset – thus being a partner with right-brain rather then being pushed out of the flow completely. 

I love my new metaphor … and to my delight so does my cloudy headache. While a small amount of heaviness continues to presence itself in front of my third-eye, I feel much lighter. 

As I return home on Sunday, a beautiful feeling of loving peace flows through my soul. 

Goodbye to Skye 

Time continues to fly by, and the time for Skye to fly home to Canada has come all too quickly. 

At 6:15 a.m. on Monday, April 11, Joy and I escort Skye down to the boat dock. She has been unable to purchase a tourist-shuttle ticket to the airport, but being the confident and experienced traveler that she now is, Skye totally trusts herself to be able to find her own way on public transportation. The first leg of her adventure will take her via boat to Panajachel. 

A few minutes later, as a boat arrives, it is so overloaded with people and baggage that Skye refuses to even attempt boarding. I have to agree that it is one of the most overcrowded boats I have ever seen on the lake. Finally at 6:40 a.m., Skye steps into the next boat – one with considerably more available space. 

We barely have time to hug and say goodbye before the boat pulls away from the dock, quickly disappearing into the distance. 

Soon, Joy and I walk slowly back to my apartment. Have I said yet that I love my roommates? 

I love you Skye. I will miss you, but I trust that our paths will cross, yet again. 

In Clock We Trust 

Joy and I quickly engage in an impromptu giggle fest. Lying side by side on the daybed in the living room, our conversation unexpectedly evolves into a delightful discussion about the craziness of time, clocks, and schedules. 

It all begins as I mention an ongoing minor annoyance that seems to shadow me everywhere that I go in my travels. It seems that everyone in Mexico and Central America ignores the holy sanctity of the clock. 

“How dare they have the audacity to live life on their own terms?” I joke sarcastically. 

Soon our conversation turns hilarious as we begin chanting things like “In clock we trust,” “God save the clock,” and “All hail to the mighty clock.” 

The discussion is actually quite profound as well as funny – talking about how we give so much of our personal power to the past and the future, focusing our entire lives around a clock and a schedule. The rabbit hole takes us further into discussions about time and space – about the crazy cultural conditioning that rules our lives around the issues of time. 

Energy Healing 

Joy has struggled with sinus congestion for several days now. After giggling for more than an hour, I feel guided to ask a simple question. 

“Would you like me to try some energy work on your sinuses?” I ask Joy. 

For the next hour I enter a deeply-centered energy of unconditional love, breathing meditatively while holding my hands in various positions around Joy’s head and neck. I feel the energy vibrations in my hands. My heart resonates with deep loving peace. 

As I eventually feel guided to stop, I ask Joy for a little feedback. 

To my sheer delight, she tells me that she experienced a lot of flowing energy, and that her sinuses have now dried up. 

I don’t know why, but I continue to experience shock and amazement when such things happen. 

Our conversation and experience is so empowering to both of us that we lose track of the almighty clock. To our delight we realize that we are running late – that if we leave right this very second we will be nearly fifteen minutes late as we walk into the Monday afternoon chocolate ceremony. 

“In clock we trust.” Joy and I giggle in unison. 

Energies Waking Up 

During the afternoon ceremony, I immediately return to the same meditation in which I ended yesterday, visualizing my left-brain self on the front row of a movie theatre, munching on popcorn and drinking soda while allowing my intuitive/creative self to project the show. 

I again call on Higher Self and the metaphorical angels to assist me with something. Anything would be nice. 

I soon begin to feel chaotic energies – energies that make me feel quite dizzy – energies that bounce around in my head. Had it not been for the many lessons of the past week, I may have tried to immediately shut this experience down – interpreting the discomfort as painful and bad. 

But now, I again think of a sleeping foot as the blood first rushes back in. 

Yes, the discomfort in my head is painful and alarming at first, but I am thrilled to feel it – thrilled to realize that new life is returning to a long-dormant portion of my brain. 

Pulsing Pains 

At first I attempt to be directive, asking the angels to do specific things (under the direction of Higher Self of course) – things such as cleaning energy channels, rewiring areas of my brain, adjusting the auto-clench programming in my jaw, etc… 

But then I begin to feel as if am “pushing the river.” Instead, I make my requests very generic, simply asking that the energies do whatever needs to be done – whatever I am ready for. 

For a very long time, I simply sit in surrender, feeling extremely light-headed as pulsing pains begins to surface and then disappear in various areas of my head. 

“What is happening, Brenda,” Keith guides me briefly, “is that your Higher Self is taking you on a journey.” 

Keith further explains that my childhood shutdown process is being replayed in reverse order, as portions of the shutdown are now being energetically undone in the opposite order in which they occurred. 

Suddenly the pain enters my eyebrows. The aching is quite intense. It does not move and it does not go away. 

Second-Chakra Expression 

“Go into that pain.” Keith guides me with confidence. “Lose yourself in that pain.” 

As I do so, the pain only intensifies. It is a very familiar pain.  

After a period of feeling and pondering, a deep intuitive realization finds its way into my mind.  

“This pain is associated with my solar plexus – the chakra associated with my will and my power.” The inner voices whisper. “This pain closed off my third-eye vision, attempting to get me to stop seeing. Such energies got me into so much trouble as a child.” 

I further immerse myself in the pain, going through another long period of dizziness and intense light-headedness. 

“Brenda,” Keith eventually intervenes. “Imagine that the light-headedness wants to express itself somehow. How does it do it?” 

“I feel the energy go through my mouth.” I respond to Keith. “This tells me that this light wants to express itself.” 

Soon I feel intuitively guided to place one hand on my second chakra. With that hand, I sense a strong rush of energy going into my tummy as I breathe out through the mouth. Almost immediately, I experience a great deal of churning in the lower intestinal areas – churning that is centered right at the core of the chakra associated with sexuality and creativity – right at the core of the chakra whose ability to express was completely severed. 

I continue to monitor and observe this adventure all the way to the end of the chocolate ceremony. To my delight, the sensations in my head return to normal as group eventually ends – letting me know once again, in a very powerful way, that the painful chaotic energies are all metaphors, not actual physical maladies. 

The Rabbit-Hole of Time 

I am thrilled by the unbelievable energetic journey that I continue to experience in the present, as I work toward healing energies from the past, which are also manifest only in the present. 

And I love how the future is barely an ignored blip on the radar (but of course that blip is also in the present too). 

In clock we trust … NOT! 

I simply trust the flow of my life … the flow of an amazing healing journey that continues to unfold in perfect harmony, one beautiful and amazing present moment at a time. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Ego is having a heyday, catching me off-guard at every turn. 

Just yesterday I managed to enter a deep loop of angry victimized judgment and then successfully return to a state of loving empowerment, all in the space of less than ninety minutes.

Today, Tuesday, April 5, is a whole new ballgame. 

It is my day to write. Skye and Joy have ventured out on a daytrip, giving me some desperately-desired seclusion. 

I start out with good intentions. 

Stuffed Frustration 

Last night, I retired early after an emotionally exhausting day on Keith’s porch.

But Skye and Joy wanted to have a little dinner party with a couple of new friends who had moved in to spend a few days in the tiny one-bedroom studio apartment right next door. In a heart-felt effort to honor my need for restful quiet, Skye did a very thoughtful thing by deciding to take the party to the neighbor’s porch and kitchen. 

But Skye didn’t just take herself next door. Unbeknownst to me, she also borrowed my music speakers and many of my dishes, pans, silverware, and Tupperware.  

This morning, when I notice that many of my belongings are missing, I casually ask about the whereabouts of my stuff. I feel quite annoyed and violated by Skye’s response.  

“It’s no big deal.” Skye responds. “Everything is just next door. I can go get it later. If we need stuff sooner, you can just go knock on their door.” 

Skye’s intentions are pure, genuine, and innocent, and I know with all of my heart that she cannot comprehend why or how I could possibly feel upset at all – but I am almost boiling inside. 

“No problem” I respond, stuffing down deep emotions of victimization and frustration. 

Pitiful Pouting Unexpressed 

“These are my belongings!” I pout silently. “She has no right to loan MY stuff to anyone. She is free to use anything and everything right here in my home, but not to take MY stuff and leave it elsewhere.”

“How dare she be so casual about scattering my belongings around?” I continue my silent pity party. “I don’t know for sure exactly what is missing, and based on Skye’s relaxed nature, I have no confidence regarding whether she even kept track of what she left next door.” 

In my feelings of possessiveness and violation, I imagine the worst. 

“Since the neighbors just barely moved in, they will not have a clue what is mine and what belongs in their own badly-under-equipped kitchen. They will be moving out in a few days and I may never see my stuff again. I shouldn’t have to deal with this extra stress!” 

After Skye and Joy disappear for a daytrip, I note that many of my dishes are still missing from my kitchen. I pout even more when I decide to boil a bag of black beans. 

“I need my large pot to cook beans. I shouldn’t have to walk next door to beg for it back, hoping the neighbors will be home when I need my stuff.” 

The observer in me is fully aware that I am projecting all over the place – that these emotions are all just silly and petty issues of worldly attachment and ego – that “it is never about what it is about” as Keith would say. 

“Why am I so desperately attached to these meager worldly belongings?” I ponder in wild confusion. “None of these things matter in the least. WHY, WHY, WHY is this causing such confusing agitation and resentment in my heart?” 

The strength of the emotions is surprisingly overpowering. I am inexplicably consumed by unexpressed anger and frustration – deeply overwhelmed by my stuffed emotions of victimization and violation. 

Through it all, I glue a cute fake smile on my face and sulk in my journey with judgment. The thought of verbalizing my frustration to Skye is terrifying – and deep down I fully recognize that it is all my own issue anyway – that I created this reality for a reason. 

“Yes,” I tell myself, “it is better to suffer and process my projections on the inside rather than to speak prematurely and to risk offending my dear friend.” 

Continued Collapse 

The emotions have a huge hold on me, but I am also firmly seated in the loving role of observer – watching myself sink deeper and deeper into the chaotic confusion. 

Soon, blaring loudspeakers are blasting in the center of town. It seems that just 75 yards away, a small local basketball tournament is being hosted, and in typical Guatemalan style, everything of such major importance absolutely requires that the speakers be turned up to maximum volume. The noise is earth-shattering (literally). 

As I repeatedly attempt to write, I begin to recognize that I am again sinking into the bombarding energies of chaos that have recently come to my awareness. The energies are overwhelming and I cannot seem to handle them right now. 

I know that my agitation and chaotic confusion are all a big metaphor – part of my deep process – and I desperately begin to meditate, hoping to find some way out of this energy distress. Just yesterday morning, Keith had asked me to blend with the energy of the Angel Moroni. As I futilely attempt such a connection, I experience absolutely nothing. 

My heart feels totally disconnected from the light; my motivation is drained. 

In an effort to maintain some type of sanity, I finally give up. For three long meaningless hours I simply play mind-numbing computer games. Then for the next five hours I lose myself in two beautiful movies. I accomplish nothing in the visible realm, but at least I survive the day without exploding under the pressure. 

I Love My Roommates 

When Skye and Joy return Tuesday evening, we have a delightful discussion in which I share details of my confusing emotional roller coaster ride. We giggle together over dinner and have fun evening chats as well. 

But I continue to stuff down the ongoing frustration regarding my missing dishes. 

Daunting Dizziness 

At about 5:00 a.m. on Wednesday morning, I awaken with a startling sensation – as if something “popped” in the center of my head. 

To my shock, as I soon stand up for a quick trip to the bathroom, I suddenly begin to wobble and collapse. Dizziness consumes me as maintaining my balance seems to be an extremely unlikely afterthought. With luck, I manage to fall backward onto the blankets of my little twin bed. 

After a few minutes of sitting and regrouping, I make another attempt at wobbly mobility. I am still very dizzy, but manage to walk slowly – as long as I carefully hang on to walls and furniture. 

A few minutes later, I am back in bed, meditating and pondering about what has just occurred. I sense a gentle flow of higher energy flowing in through my crown chakra, as if a pleasant morning breeze is blowing slowly into my head. Whatever this energy may be, it is extremely disorienting to a long-shutdown brain. I spend the next few hours in quiet reclining meditation. Each time that I sit up, I am briefly overwhelmed by a period of dizziness – a dizziness that mostly disappears by mid-morning.

Reading Energies 

For months Keith has reassured me that I have the capacity to read the energies of others. Several times I have experienced glimpses of such abilities in a very physical way. But these glimpses have been few and far between, leaving many opportunities for doubts to consume a rational mind that continues to throw out frequent road hazards in my journey. 

The afternoon chocolate ceremony on Wednesday becomes an amazing opportunity to further erase some of the doubt that still clouds rational mind. 

A large group of twenty-five crowd Keith’s porch on this beautiful sunny afternoon. Many in town have heard that Keith is leaving, and they all desire a final opportunity to share in his magical space. 

It also seems that a significant percentage of those on the porch today are empaths – a topic that is heavily discussed during the afternoon.

 I begin the ceremony feeling quite disconnected and spacey, even reverting to some of my earlier dizziness. I mention the dizziness to Keith, but he agrees with me that it is higher energies that are opening up – nothing physical with which to concern myself. 

Soon, I feel more connected and feel strongly guided to begin working with others. I find myself working with a woman who is struggling, being in deep denial about various events in her life regarding her own energy shutdown as a child. Suddenly I feel my throat constrict. It is so scratchy that I can barely talk – so scratchy that breathing without coughing becomes extremely difficult. 

“Help, Keith!” I wave across the room. “Is what I am feeling telling me that her throat chakra is shut down?” 

“Yup,” Keith replies confidently.  

To my surprise, Serg and several others then speak up and indicate that they too are feeling the extremely scratchy and constricted throat sensations. 

My only concern is that I cannot seem to find the “off button” and I feel the sensations quite intensely. This definitely gets my attention. 

A Bending Head 

As Keith and I continue to work with this same woman, she closes her eyes in meditation. I feel intuitively guided to hold my hand just a few inches above and behind her neck, not touching her at all. 

Suddenly, less than a second after putting my hand in place, I feel a powerful energy flow leaving my hand. Simultaneously, this woman turns her head down and to the left, turning to face directly at my face before opening her eyes. 

“I felt an undeniable pull to turn my head.” She comments with surprise. “It was like I was being sucked in your direction and I could not resist.” 

Again, I am blown away at the instantaneous feedback that I receive regarding the effect of intuitively placing my hand two inches behind someone’s neck. 

Moving Energy 

A while later, I decide to try something Keith told me I was doing on Monday – helping to move the energy of someone else’s ready-to-be-released emotional densities. In spite of the fact that rational mind laughs and says “you are making this all up”, I actually feel the sensation of energy moving. 

I practice this budding ability on a couple of dear friends. One tells me that I definitely helped him to bring up a deeper emotional release. Another begins to access profound tears as I engage in the same heart-based energy work with him. 

It seems that today my magic is alive and powerful. 

Rational mind still has no idea what I am doing, having no clue how to control or make the magic happen – yet something very warm and powerful in my heart seems to know and trust, lovingly reassuring me that what is happening is indeed real and magical. 

Trust Yourself 

At one point in this amazing afternoon, I am working with a woman, trying to build up her self-confidence. 

“Trust yourself.” I tell her with love. 

“Listen to your own words, Brenda.” Keith immediately chimes in. 

“You have done some powerful healing today on the porch.” Keith continues. “You need to learn to trust who you are, and what you can do and ARE doing.” 

Both Skye and Joy quickly jump in with votes of confidence, indicating that they would definitely trust me and come to see me for healing assistance. As my two roommates speak their loving words, several other heads on the porch simultaneously nod in agreement. 

I hear their words, I believe their words – and I then immediately place an imaginary hand over my ears and eyes. Something inside will not allow me to fully embrace those beautiful words of encouragement. Perhaps it is fear. 

Dizzy to the Max 

Near the end of the chocolate ceremony, I meditate for a while as I sit on my favorite overstuffed pillow by Keith’s kitchen door. As I stand to go home, I am quite shocked as I again nearly fall over with dizziness before quickly bracing myself and sitting back down. After Keith checks his guidance, again reassuring me that I will be fine, I walk slowly home with Skye and Joy. 

A couple of hours later, Keith stops by to exchange a few computer files. As I stand up to tell him goodbye, I again wobble with dizziness. 

At 11:30 p.m., as I get out of bed to scribble a few additional notes regarding my day, I again almost fall onto the floor. I literally feel as if the energy in my head is swirling around in deep circles. I can only imagine that this whirling energy that flows in through my crown is completely re-inventing the world as I know it. 

Scissor Saga 

With the silliest of provocations, I again enter yet-another strange ego loop on Thursday morning. One of the neighbors comes over early and asks if I have any scissors that he could use to cut his own hair. As I grab a large pair of scissors and hand them over reluctantly, I remember how I felt on Tuesday about my speakers and dishes. 

“I will return them as soon as I am done.” He reassures me. 

Of course, in the logic of my loopy rational mind, this means that my scissors will be back in my possession in the next hour or so. 

“WHY am I so bizarrely attached to this stuff?” I again struggle in quiet observation mode. 

To my dismay, four hours later as I wander out to Keith’s porch I am still scissor-less. I am obsessed with the silly saga, deeply confused as to why ego is so strong with this miniscule issue. 

For some strange reason, ego has chosen this week to suddenly exert major temper tantrums over the topic of possession. Less than three years ago, I eagerly gave away nearly everything I own, doing so with loving peace, barely batting an eye. Now I am in the depths of despair over a stupid pair of scissors. Go figure. 

Giggling Thoughts 

I can barely contain my excitement on Thursday afternoon when I learn that Keith is not flying to Canada this weekend. It seems that some very strange events are occurring. 

Just this morning, Keith received indirect word from an acquaintance that his friend in Canada is desperately attempting to reach him, wondering why he is not responding. 

“It is strange,” Keith shares with the group. “I have sent repeated emails to various addresses throughout the last few weeks, and I have not received one reply.” 

“It seems to me that the Universe is preventing communication from occurring in both directions.” I giggle silently as I ponder the thought. 

I am soon delighted when Keith shares that it he is not fully sure yet what he will do, but that it feels energetically right for him to stay in San Marcos for a little longer. 

Peace settles into my heart as I realize that I will continue to have Keith’s amazing assistance in my life, at least for the short term. 

Large-Screen Projections 

As the Thursday afternoon chocolate ceremony gets underway, I struggle with accessing any type of unconditional love. 

“I seem to be looping in ego again,” I tell Keith with frustration as I explain my morning. “It is the same as what happened on Tuesday with my dishes, only even sillier.” 

From my energetically-disconnected state, I watch with deep judgment as a woman from New York, in her first-ever visit to Keith’s porch, suddenly becomes the star healer of the day. 

“Her behavior is extremely inappropriate,” I whine silently to myself, still pouting on my pillow in a deeply disconnected (and now judgmental) state. 

Before long, this woman begins to guide people through energy and chakra meditations. She works her way all over the porch, spending time with most everyone. In my opinion, she is loud and disruptive – so loud that I can barely hear Keith through all of the noise. 

“It feels to me like she is spreading ‘fixing energy’ all over the porch,” I ponder with deep judgment.” Instead of following a flow, she is pushing people’s processes in directions that do not serve them well. Why is Keith allowing this?” 

And then there is Serg. Suddenly he picks today to begin his own debut as a healer. He too makes his way around the porch working noisily with various people, loudly talking while coaching them through various yogic energy-flow techniques. 

Through all the noise, Keith continues to work quietly with others, completely ignoring what to me are extremely inconsiderate distractions. 

Adding to the confusion, many people are constantly coming and going, up and down from their seats. I am so annoyed that I want to scream. 

It seems that I am projecting big time – projecting so much in fact that perhaps I need a bigger movie screen – perhaps one so big that it would fit only in one of those colossal IMAX theatres. 

Reality Flashback 

As I write about this experience some six weeks after the fact, I easily recognize that this day on the porch is another of those strange days where Keith was simply following my energy, allowing things to happen that would serve me and my needs. I no longer see the events of that day through the lens of judgment. Instead, I see them as deeply inspired and powerful. 

I was literally creating this reality – a reality of chaos and confusion. As it turns out, this chaos and confusion did indeed serve me very well. 

Stuck In Chaos 

“Why don’t you just go for a walk down to the lake or something?” Keith suggests when I explain my deeply agitated state. 

I am deeply puzzled by Keith’s suggestion – one which I ignore. I know myself well enough to know that if I leave, I will not come back. Even worse, the woman from New York has briefly left the porch herself – her destination being a short walk by the lake. The last thing I want to do is bump into her. She is the trigger for most of my major projections. 

Help, Mr. Wizard 

Around 5:30 p.m., as the porch is now nearly vacant, Keith walks over and sits down beside me. I have already overheard him tell several people that he will meet them in town at 6:00 p.m.. I have little hope of receiving any type of guidance or closure to the extreme chaos that now holds me in its clutches. 

“How are you doing, Brenda?” Keith asks with a loving tone. 

I explain my crazy energy chaos and my extreme state of continued shutdown. 

“Please help me.” I beg. “I don’t know what to do.”

 To my surprise, Keith asks one of my friends to remain on the porch, to sit beside me and support me, while he guides me deeper. Ego had already convinced me that I don’t matter, that Keith will never help me at this late hour. 

I Was Four 

“What age were you?” Keith gets right to work, surprising me with his first question. 

I am so shutdown that an answer does not come. Finally, after a couple of minutes of meditation I tell Keith that I was probably nine or ten. 

Keith and I discuss the chaos in my life during that time, but it does not feel intuitively correct. I have clear memories from that age, and I don’t remember feeling such chaos then. By age nine I was already deeply conditioned by my programming – trying to be the perfect little Mormon boy – seeking love and validation from others. 

As a brief interruption takes Keith to the gate, a little Jedi voice whispers loudly to my heart. 

“I was four.” I tell Keith with confidence as he again sits in front of me. 

They Are Our Teachers 

“Go deeply into your emotions,” Keith quickly guides me, telling me to bring the emotions up to the surface and to let them flow. 

“But I thought that I wasn’t supposed to use the trauma-drama approach for emotional release anymore.” I tell Keith with surprise. “I thought I was supposed to try to use higher dimensional energies to transmute such densities now.” 

“Where in the world did you get that idea?” Keith asks with surprise, telling me firmly that he never implied any such thing. 

“But you are always teaching people to bring in the higher energies, asking them to transmute the densities with light.” I point out to Keith. “You have told us many times that it will take many lifetimes to release all of our densities if we continue to process them through the slower trauma-drama approach.” 

“I’m still not done crying.” Keith tells me with firmness and clarity. 

Keith’s unexpected statement pulls me back to reality. Yes, using higher dimensional energies is indeed an amazing and much faster way to move many, if not most of the densities in our field – but there are other emotions that absolutely must be felt to the core, to the very bottom of the gut-wrenching tears. 

These are issues that we came here to work on in this lifetime. It is important to go deeply into such emotions, because we put them there as our teachers. 

Crying For No Reason 

As I literally regress back to the emotions of my innocent four-year-old self, many deep emotional memories begin to surface. 

Strong memories of profuse crying flood my awareness. I cannot remember one physical reason regarding why I would be crying – I had not been beaten nor physically hurt – but I clearly remember crying unstoppably, and my tantrum was based on emotions of rebellion and resistance, fighting off some type of suppression of my will.  

As I immerse myself in these memories, I profoundly feel the helplessness and futility of a deeply misunderstood little boy. 

The phrase “I just want to be understood” repeatedly floods my mind. 

At that tender age, I cried hard and long, and could not stop. I clearly remember lying on my bed, bawling my eyes out with my mother either sitting on the bed beside me or kneeling on the floor in front of me. 

My mother’s approach is one of loving firmness, begging me to stop crying, insisting that I have to stop crying. She never hits or threatens me, but I do have the distinct feeling that she is very frustrated with me, and that she does not like/love me as much when I cry. 

“I want to stop crying.” I whimper to my mother through continued tears. “But I can’t stop.” 

Finally my mother brings me a glass of water. Somehow a glass of water alters my physical flow just enough that I can stop the otherwise-unstoppable tears. Putting that cool glass of water to my lips and then swallowing always seems to do the trick. 

As I reminisce about how the glass of water always helped me stop crying, I clearly remember that needing to drink a glass of water in order to be able to stop crying was a very frequent experience for that young toddler.  

A Dizzy Pause 

As I regress into the reality of my four year old child, I feel deep emotions beginning to surface inside of me – emotions that I know are begging for deep cathartic release. 

But I also feel something else surfacing – a deep need to first run to the bathroom. 

As I begin to stand up, a strong bout of dizziness again overwhelms me. After sitting back down to catch my balance, I gradually stand. Keith helps me to the door, at which time I begin to cling to anything and everything around to hold me vertical. Soon I am back on my pillow, still dizzy, but ready to release. 

A Dizzy Release 

It only takes a minute for my emotions to engage in flash-flood mode. Rivers flow down my cheeks as I cry every type of tear imaginable. My breathing is rapid, deep and very heavy. At times my entire jaw shakes with teeth chattering and rattling. At other times, I cough uncontrollably. And then there are the dry abdominal heaves. Something inside of me desperately wants to get out, and now that the lid has been removed, my body is doing everything humanly possible to rid itself of the deeply rooted emotions. 

As layers of deep emotional release burst forth, I begin to give a verbal running commentary of the memories flashing through my consciousness as I continue to sob. 

Feelings of deeply repressed anger begin to make themselves known. I have no idea why I am angry, but I know the anger must come up to my awareness and then out. Grabbing a few foam cushions, I begin to hit and punch, physically expressing an emotion that is barely hitting the radar at the conscious level. 

“I was angry that I was not allowed to express my tears.” I tell Keith. “I was angry that I had to push everything down and simply do as I was told. I was angry that I did not have a voice. I was angry that I simply had to smile and obey.” 

The strongest waves of emotions continue nonstop for more than thirty minutes. Gradually, the waves slow down. When the expressions of intense release finally fade, I gradually sit up on my pillow and open my eyes. A few straggling tears continue to trickle. 

Again, I am extremely dizzy, almost too dizzy to even be able to sit upright.  

Inside I feel a deep sense of relief. 

You’re In Danger … 

“Go to glow, Brenda.” Keith quickly guides me. 

I am quite familiar with this profound and extremely simple meditation – a meditation where you simply let the smile in your heart find you, where you connect to divine energies and let them radiate from your every pore in oneness with all that is. 

As I powerfully immerse myself in the glowing higher energies, I suddenly experience a beautiful gift. My hands tingle profusely, more than I have ever felt before. At the same time, even with a few tears still forming in my eyes, I imagine a huge smile on my heart. 

“I need to warn you Brenda,” Keith interjects with a firm voice. “You’re in danger of giggling with joy.” 

Hidden Gifts 

As I go deeper into the glow, I begin to feel my hands lighting up, big time, as if huge spot lights are powerfully radiating out of the center of each of my palms. Then I begin to feel the familiar sensation of lightning bolts streaming out of my fingertips. Again these are not as powerful as those from last fall, but they are indeed very strong. 

Several people on the porch come over to place their hands above my upward-pointing finger tips. Each can feel the powerful flow of energy. 

The energy is so amazing that I feel like a child in a candy store. For another half hour, I play with my new energy gift while enjoying a delightful conversation with Keith. We talk about anything and everything – conversations about today, about the dizziness that I am experiencing, and about my ongoing awakening process. 

But my favorite topic is discussing the amazing magical gifts that are opening up in my awareness – gifts that continue to grow and expand with every layer of emotional processing. Yes, as more densities and old belief systems melt away, more amazing energy is simultaneously lighting up inside of me. 

Bring It On 

I eventually begin to give the energy to myself, first channeling it into my heart, then my abdomen, then my throat and finally my third-eye. Eventually, I have an entire vibrating ball of energy surrounding my head. It feels so amazing. Soon, I playfully expand the ball to encompass the entire porch. 

I am overflowing with radiating joy as I giggle and play with the energies, allowing my imagination to create, to believe, and to feel. The physical vibrations in my own body are undeniable, allowing me to simply revel in the reality of the magic I am experiencing. 

At 7:00 p.m., as I finally stand to walk home, the dizziness is so overwhelming that I know I will need assistance in walking. Soon, Serg and another friend sandwich me in the middle, lovingly stabilizing me through what is normally a ten minute walk to my door. Today it takes twenty. 

This emotional deep-sea-diving expedition is turning out to be quite painful – but I am thrilled by the unfolding results – thrilled by the increasing clarity in my energy field.  

No matter how much emotional heartache I need to suffer in the release process, if the end result is going to be this type of energetic, joyful, and magical expansion, then all I can say is … 

Bring It On. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved