Creating My Reality

April 19th, 2011

… Continued from “Don’t Wait Up” … 

Anton is a pure gentleman. Intermixed with the occasional energy meditation, the two of us talk and cuddle for hours. I love the safe and secure feeling of being held in his strong warm arms. 

In the past, thoughts of such an evening were nothing but fantasy – but now, in the very week in which I am healing many deeply rooted issues surrounding my rejection of masculine energy, the forces of the Universe have guided me to embrace that fantasy in a very real way. A sense of awe and wonder fill my soul as I realize that I am experiencing neither guilt nor regret, none whatsoever. 

Eventually, the active interactions fade as I attempt to surrender waking consciousness, craving the experience of simply falling asleep in Anton’s embrace – but a nagging little voice in the back of my mind constantly reminds me that this is a very unlikely event – that the simple act of sleeping while touching the energy field of another human body will continue to evade me. 

Finally, sometime between 1:00 and 2:00 a.m., I roll over in desperation, feeling absolutely drained.

“Anton,” I whisper tiredly. “I think I need to go home to get some sleep in my own bed. I simply cannot fall asleep, and I’m going to be exhausted tomorrow.” 

“Why don’t you just go up in my loft and sleep in the bed up there?” Anton volunteers. 

Kundalini Delight 

After perhaps two hours of broken sleep I suddenly wake up with a start. My attention is immediately drawn to some type of strange pulsing in my back. After ignoring an automatic urge to try to suppress the strange energy, I instead opt to embrace it, to relax my muscles and to allow the energy to flow unobstructed through my utterly exhausted body. 

Within seconds, I feel a mild and delightful energy flowing throughout my entire being – an energy that flows strongest from my root chakra up through my crown, focusing mainly in the area of my spine. Immediately, I recognize this energy as something I have felt on occasion – a very pleasurable, almost erotic energy that tickles the insides of my body as it circulates gently amid the sensation of soft vibrations. 

My thoughts flash to Anton, sleeping just eight feet below me, wondering if he is somehow transmitting this beautiful energy in my direction. I cannot help but assume that my experiencing of this amazing energy is somehow related to the unexpected events of the past five days. Nevertheless, I ignore any urge to investigate, choosing instead to fully immerse myself in the present moment. 

After what must be nearly an hour of immersion into pleasurable energies, biology finally gets the best of me. I eventually succumb to a desperate need to pee, beginning an awkward descent down the steep wooden ladder that separates me from Anton and his bathroom below. 

By the time I reach the bottom of the rickety ladder, the unavoidable squeaks and creeks have woken Anton, who kindly reaches his arm into the bathroom to flip on a light to aid me in my unfamiliar journey. 

Energy Feast 

Rather than returning to the rafters above, I make an unexpected decision to climb back into Anton’s arms, recognizing that I would rather play further with energies than attempt to force the unlikely outcome of further sleep. 

I ask Anton to guide me back into a meditation where I find myself basking in the energy of thousands of tiny quartz crystals, tickling and tingling over every square inch of my electrified skin. Then, for what feels like hours, Anton waits patiently while I engage in my own internal energy meditations. 

As I lie safely and securely in Anton’s arms, I simply inhale the magical energy environment that seems to vibrate from his very essence, using my imagination to direct the energy as it explores the unmapped territories of my now-tantalized skin. 

Reality Check 

By around 9:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning, my glorious energy meditations give way to a deep and honest conversation between Anton and myself.  

I am completely unprepared emotionally for what Anton shares. He talks openly and honestly about the general details of a long-term relationship in which he is involved back home – a committed, but non-exclusive (open) relationship with a beautiful woman that he loves. Anton goes on to tell me that he is planning to tell his partner about the two of us and the friendship that we are beginning to share. 

My gut reaction shocks me. For several weeks, I have been aware of another friend who lives in an open-relationship community. I have felt no judgment whatsoever toward her lifestyle. While listening to her experiences, I even bounced around various open-minded ideas in my own head – ideas that might help to safely pull me out of a sexually repressed shell. Yet a deeply rooted part of me had resolved that what I really want in a relationship, if I ever do enter into one, is a relationship where my partner is fully committed to an exclusive relationship with me. 

While listening to Anton’s unexpected words, I begin to sever my emotional connection with him, feeling a surge of self-righteous (but unexpressed) accusation aimed at Anton for not having shared these details with me earlier. 

Then I flash back to our conversation last night at the Japanese restaurant, less than fourteen hours earlier.

Conflicting Instructions 

“Are you in any type of relationship back home?” I had asked Anton at dinner. “Are you married or dating someone?” 

Then, before Anton could answer I had immediately interrupted. 

“No, don’t answer that.” I told him firmly. “It doesn’t matter to me. I don’t even know if I am interested in a relationship myself. I just need to experience a safe night of energy sharing and cuddling with a man.” 

Paradoxical Shutdown 

“How could I feel judgmental toward Anton,” I think to myself. “I specifically told him last night to not respond to my question about current relationships … telling him that I don’t care, that I am not sure if I am even interested in any type of relationship myself.” 

Yet apparently, a part of me does deeply care – and that part of me is now quietly projecting all over the place, while at the same time attempting to reign in those projections, not expressing them verbally until I have a chance to process my own emotions. 

As a result, I simply go numb and mostly silent, communicating in a bare minimum way, telling Anton that I am very tired from a long night of very little sleep and that I need some time to sort out my feelings. 

As I stare into Anton’s eyes while we continue to go through the motions of talking, I am shocked by what I see. Suddenly, I don’t even find him attractive. In fact, I feel strangely repulsed by the man in front of me. 

I find it amazing how emotion can make someone handsome one minute and ugly the next – without them changing anything at all about themselves. 

Persistent Scent 

As I arrive home to an empty apartment, I note that the time is around 10:30 a.m.. Part of me feels deeply dirty. Quickly stepping into the shower, I scrub my skin and wash my hair, desperately attempting to remove Anton’s unique scent – a scent that continues to linger on my body even after my shower is complete. 

In an added exercise of futility, I throw all of the clothes that I had been wearing into a laundry bag, determined to wash them as soon as possible. 

I am shocked by my own feelings and behavior. I recognize that I had a beautiful experience with Anton – that I was safe and loved, that we shared amazing energy together, and that he was fully honest with me – yet I now find myself in a state of mind where I utterly want to reject Anton, where I never want to see him again, where I want to completely block him out of my reality. 

An Old Loop 

I realize that I am deep in an old behavioral loop – a loop of betrayal and projection – a loop that I recognize as what happened after I broke up from my last relationship almost ten long years ago. Even so, my emotions of today are real, and I allow myself to feel them to the max. I have no idea what will ensue in my healing path, but I am determined to find out. 

That last breakup had been devastating, a breakup that left me deflated and lacking in personal identity. Only after several years of deep emotional struggle and suffering had I managed to fully begin my long healing journey.  

Now, a feeling of strong internal confidence tells me that what once took years will take only a matter of days. 

I feel bad for how my strange behavior must appear to Anton, but I know that I must fully pass through this old loop in order to completely understand and heal it. 

Kundalini Revisited 

Feeling exhausted, I curl up in bed in a desperate attempt at sleep, but rest is fleeting and unobtainable. After a while I attempt to meditate. To my surprise, I am soon deeply immersed in another mild Kundalini energy flow. My spine is alive with pleasurable energy dancing up and down. It is impossible to not draw the conclusion that somehow, my proximity to Anton’s energy has primed my body to be much more capable of flowing these beautiful energies inside of myself. 

As the energies finally leave my body, I am relaxed, feeling quite rested and much more stable in the emotional arena. 

Spill the Beans 

Finally Rae comes home from her own daytime activities. I am shocked to learn that she is going through her own emotional journey. The two of us eagerly swap stories, devour spaghetti, and do our own version of energy sharing on the daybed before walking out to Keith’s magical porch for an evening of bagging freshly ground cacao – cacao that is now a thick liquid that will soon harden. Rae and I will help get all of the chocolate into one-pound and half-pound plastic bags before the hardening process sets in. 

“Well, spill the beans.” Keith begs with a smile as I sit in his kitchen before Isaias arrives with the freshly-ground chocolate. 

Given that Keith is both my counselor and my friend, I freely share the general details of my confusing up-and-down roller coaster ride of emotional exploration. 

Did Someone Say Kundalini? 

Early Wednesday, I again awaken to another mild-but-pleasurable flow of Kundalini energy. 

“I could get quite used to this.” I tell myself as I bask in the energizing experience – the third such experience in just over twenty-four hours. 

Two Little Birds 

As Rae and I contemplate breakfast, we are both feeling low, sinking into another round of emotional confusion. She invites me to sit on her bed as we discuss our inner struggles while simultaneously staring out the open window. 

“Oh my gosh!” Rae suddenly exclaims. “Do you see that?” 

Just as the words pass through her lips, I too am startled as I watch two little birds land on the window shutters of Rae’s open window – one on each side of the window. The shutters are gently swaying under the mild influence of the bird’s momentum. 

“We’re supposed to go outside!” Rae intuitively pronounces at seeing this unique display of nature – one that neither of us has ever seen before. 

“Let’s go out for breakfast.” Rae continues. “Let’s go over to that restaurant by the lake, right by the hill on the west end of town.” 

Her intuition resonates true with my own, and the two of us are soon slipping out the front door. 

Guess Who 

Rae and I want nothing more than to simply talk to each other in the morning sun, exploring our emotional sagas while devouring a yummy breakfast against the gorgeous backdrop of Lake Atitlan.  

“What if Anton or the friend you are struggling with are there?” I ask Rae with a feeling of premonition. “What will we do?” 

Seconds later, as the restaurant comes into view, my jaw drops. There at the exact table where I sometimes like to sit is none other than Anton.

 Ignoring my urge to simply turn around and run, Rae and I approach Anton, asking if we can join him. His response to me is his own look of shock and surprise as he indicates that he has just been wishing that I would show up. (I rarely go out for breakfast). 

As if the Universe is simply toying with us, the young man with whom Rae is struggling also shows up in the same restaurant, less than five minutes later. 

Anton and I have a delightful conversation, but I remain quite emotionally reserved. Gratitude swells in my heart at the fact that I already feel as if I am beginning to let go and to heal my projections. I explain to Anton that I am simply going through my own process, asking him to please be patient with me, and to not take any of my behavior personally. 

Hill-Top Treat 

As breakfast conversation dwindles, Anton announces that he needs to leave for an appointment. Rae and I quickly take advantage of the opportunity to hike up our favorite local hill. 

The two of us share joyful tears while standing around a Mayan fire-ceremony pit, feeling the cool morning breeze dance against our skin while basking in the energy of the moment – a beautiful feeling of undeniable synchronicity that continues to bless both of our lives. 

But soon, it is time to scurry off toward our favorite magical porch for an afternoon chocolate ceremony. I cannot help but wonder how the ceremony will be, given the current awkwardness that I continue to feel toward Anton. 

Chocolate Confusion 

My afternoon on the porch is one of overflowing unconditional love. Somehow, two little birds, a synchronous morning meeting with Anton, and a subsequent joy-filled celebration in the breeze have left me filled and bursting with beautiful loving energy. I spend the entire afternoon simply glowing and sharing my energy freely with anyone who needs it – except for Anton that is. 

I am still not ready to reach out in a closer way. I watch with confusion as Anton further explores his own energy gifts. Keith asks him to do some energy sharing with a beautiful young woman in the group and I simply watch out of the corner of my eye. The young woman appears to be deeply enjoying the energy that is being shared with her. 

At one point, Anton gets Keith’s attention to ask advice regarding whether he is done sharing yet. In a teaching opportunity, Keith turns the question back around onto Anton, asking him to figure out the answer on his own. 

For the next hour I watch as Anton continues sharing energy with the young woman. I notice with slight judgment and a tiny bit of jealousy as her facial expressions and behavior move increasingly into the sensual pleasure arena. While there is no inappropriate touching, the energy she is receiving is obviously very pleasurable for her, and she makes no effort to disguise her sense of deep and intimate enjoyment. 

Unconditional Sharing 

As Anton finally decides that he is done sharing energy, I notice that both he and the woman look quite exhausted and slightly flustered. 

Feeling nothing but pure love for both of them, I make my way over to the corner of the porch, sit between and slightly behind them, and proceed to place one hand on each of their backs, pumping them both full of the unconditional loving energy that continues to overflow from my heart. 

About twenty minutes later, the young woman, appearing much more energized, lifts her head, gives me a huge smile and follows up with a huge hug of gratitude. 

Later, Rae tells me, “Wow, Brenda. That was amazing how you were able to share such loving energy with both of them, given what you are currently going through.” “Yeah,” I respond, “It blew me away too. I am so proud of myself.” 

Awkward Stroll 

As group ends, both Anton and I remain behind to talk to Keith. 

“Keith,” Anton comments sincerely. “I was really concerned about my energy sharing today. When I first asked you about knowing when to stop, I was feeling like I was done and that maybe it was time to move on to work with someone else.” 

“After that point,” Anton continues, “I feel like the energy became much too sexual, much too personal and intimate, and I was very uncomfortable with it.” 

As I hear Anton engage Keith in this line of questioning, I feel deeply grateful and proud of him, recognizing that the earlier judgments that had begun to surface in my heart were totally unfounded – that the unconditional love that flowed through me at the end was indeed perfect. 

After I am done with my own quick conversation with Keith, Anton asks if he can walk me home. I wish I could avoid the short trek together, but respond in the affirmative, seeing no other polite way to respond. 

“Would you like to get together for a drink sometime?” Anton asks me innocently. 

“I am still interested in the possibility of exploring energies with you sometime.” I reply with a slight diversion, “but before we do that again we will first need to talk a lot. Right now, I don’t think I am capable of meeting with you except for the time that we share together on Keith’s porch.” 

I am quite proud of myself for having reached this level of clarity in my feelings – but still very surprised by the intensity of doubt and confusion that continue to dance around in my soul. 

Chaotic Collapse 

Before the young woman with whom Anton was working left the porch this afternoon, I accidentally overheard her tell Anton, “I’ll see you tonight.”

I know they are friends, and that she is leaving tomorrow. I also know that Anton has borrowed a book from her and needs to return it. I want to assume that they really are just friends. I don’t even know why I care so much. 

“You do know that they are having dinner together right now, don’t you?” Rae shares as the two of us go out to a restaurant. “I just bumped into them on my way home.” 

After acknowledging Rae’s words, I feel quite hurt as I let my imagination and projections take it from there. 

Even though I know that Anton is friends with pretty much everyone in town, and that since he is alone he shares meals with lots of different people, I still allow my imagination to run rampant. 

With absolutely no evidence to back up my assumptions, I presume the worst – assuming that Anton is going to spend the night with this woman just two nights after the two of us did the same. 

Flashbacks haunt my memory – memories of my painful breakup ten years ago. Less than two weeks after my emotional heartbreak, I was devastated upon learning that the man I almost married was now sleeping with a woman just over half my age. I had been so deeply hurt that our loving relationship could be so easily replaced. 

I do not yet realize it, but tonight, as I imagine Anton with this other woman (and imagine is the key word here), I am actually reliving the trauma of that breakup ten years ago. 

At dinner with Rae, I decide I am done with Anton – absolutely finished. I will not expose my heart to such risk. 

“I don’t even like him that much.” I tell myself. “Why would I explore a relationship that I know is simply not going to work?” 

Dinner becomes quite uncomfortable as Rae decides she wants us to sit with two people that I have never met. I really want to have time for a private conversation with Rae. Then we are casually invited to come to a nearby party for someone who is turning forty years old. I don’t know the birthday gentleman, but Rae convinces me that it will be fun, and that I don’t need to stay very long. 

To make a long story short, I feel very let-down by Anton (my imagination), I do not enjoy dinner, and I then walk into a house full of crazy partiers, most of whom I have never met. Of the ones I do know, most of them are drinking or dancing to loud music that is of such an intense volume that a simple conversation is virtually impossible. 

I do find one beautiful friend out in the garden. We spend about thirty minutes engaged in deep conversation about how we both hate such parties. My heart is overwhelmed with a feeling of out-of-control chaotic energies. All I want to do is run away and hide from the chaos. I am feeling confused, anxious, and agitated. I am proud of myself for facing my fears and staying as long as I do, but eventually I give my friend a warm hug, say goodnight, and escape into the darkness. 

A few more weeks will yet need to pass before I begin to understand my strange connection to these chaotic energies. 

As I crawl under the covers, late on Wednesday evening, the safety and comfort of my warm bed never felt so good. 

New Day, New Pain 

With all of my heart, I hope to wake up energized, but Thursday, March 3, begins with continued confusion and pain. In the middle of enjoying a beautiful breakfast with Rae, my abdomen begins to swell and fill with pain as I drink a smoothie and munch on a bowl of fruit. Soon, we set out on a walk with intentions to climb the nearby hill, but as we arrive at the bottom of the trail, I feel so much nausea that I have to sit down. 

Soon the discomfort is so intense that climbing the hill is out of the question. Minutes later, Rae and I have returned home, both of us resting on the daybed while I attempt to give my tummy an opportunity to recover. 

“This is physical.” My head banters. “There is no way I can go to group today. I should just go suffer in bed.” 

“No,” My heart replies, “This pain is of emotional origins. I have to go to group today. I absolutely will go to group today, no matter how I feel.” 

To my surprise, as I arrive at group ten minutes late, my nausea is greatly reduced. Yes, my stomach is still physically weak, but I know that I will somehow make it through group, and that things will be much better when it is all over. 

Perfect Group 

The first thing I do is find a huge pillow and curl up with my eyes closed, resisting any type of participation, simply wanting to hide out while the rest of group unfolds around me. 

It seems that the Universe is laughing at me. Only five people have shown up today – Keith, me, Rae, Anton, and Isaias (Keith’s amazing helper). As I contemplate Anton’s being on the porch, I have no desire to have anything to do with him, nothing whatsoever. I am feeling deep judgment and anger toward him, projecting all of my assumptions onto Anton in a myriad of ways. Even though all evidence points in the other direction, I feel completely used and tossed out. I refuse to look in Anton’s direction, terrified that I might actually make eye contact. 

To make matters worse, after the chocolate is passed around (of which I drink none today because of my stomach), the group falls completely silent. No one speaks a single word, not even Keith. We simply meditate silently. 

In nearly every group in which I have participated, Keith talks extensively about chocolate during the first hour. 

“Why is it so silent?” I think to myself as I wish I could simply run away. 

My mind is boggled regarding how Keith is so adept at simply following the energy. It must be obvious to everyone that today’s group is about me – that the people who are here are exactly the ones that I need to work with – and that no one is going to push me to do anything. It is I who must speak up and spill the beans. 

Rock Bottom 

Remaining silent, I simply pout, feel stuck, and continue to simmer in deep emotion. Eventually my tears begin to bubble to the surface. I try to stuff them down but they continue to grow in intensity. Finally, after nearly an hour of nerve-wracking silence, I respond to my intuition – a strong intuition telling me that nothing is going to happen in group today until I break the bizarre silence. 

“I am totally shutting down.” I begin to finally speak out loud. “I am projecting judgments, knowing that what I am experiencing in the relationship arena is not what I want.” 

Everyone in the room knows that I am talking about Anton, except Isaias that is. I feel no need to mention Anton’s name out loud, instead preferring to remain vague and generalized. 

“I don’t know if I believe that what I am looking for in a relationship even exists.” I blurt out between flowing tears. “I am feeling like I will get ‘none-of-the-above’ – that I am defective and undesirable. The energy in my second and third chakras is shutting down again, and I feel hopeless, like I simply want to pack up and run away.” 

I still refuse to look in Anton’s direction. My heart is too broken and devastated to even care what he might be thinking or feeling – even though I know that he is merely the victim of my projections – the victim of my healing process from past relationship failures and self-hatred. 

It takes a while, but through the benefit of deep emotional release and the bringing in of high vibration energies, I eventually reach a powerful state of loving peace – just in time to be unconditionally loving and present with my dear friend Rae who begins to go into deep sadness and fear about the fact that she is going home in just a few days. 

I am amazed at the contrast of my emotions. I came into group at rock bottom, and am and now feeling divine loving energies flow through me as I counsel my dear friend with deeply inspired words. Better yet, my abdominal pain is completely gone. 

Through it all, I continue to ignore Anton. 

Surprise Exit 

“You want to leave early today.” The little Jedi voices whisper in my heart. 

This prompting makes no sense to me whatsoever. In all of the sessions that I have participated on Keith’s porch, I don’t remember ever leaving early, not one single time. I see no logical reason to do so today. 

“If I leave early, I can avoid walking home with Anton.” My ego projection voice pipes in. I recognize this voice as having nothing to do with my intuition, but it does remind me that I am afraid to be around Anton and actually have to talk to him. 

“You know that you need to leave right now.” The little Jedi voices again vibrate in my inner knowing. 

Seconds later I walk over to Keith, give him a big hug, thank him for a beautiful session, and tell him that I don’t know why, but I need to leave early today. As I begin to walk out, Rae asks if she can join me. 

“I have been thinking about wanting to film the sunset from the top of the hill.” Rae pipes in as we begin to walk. “Today might be my last opportunity to do so.” 

“Can I go with you?” I ask her, feeling guided that perhaps this is why I was supposed to leave. 

At 5:00 p.m., both Rae and I are eagerly rushing down the road, racing back to the apartment to grab camera equipment, hoping to catch the sun before it disappears behind the San Pedro volcano. 

Impromptu Interview 

After filming a beautiful sunset, Rae turns her camera on me. 

“Brenda,” Rae smiles, “let’s finish that interview that I promised to do.” 

For the next hour, Rae films me as I share my story on camera, answering questions, talking about my life, providing raw footage to my dear friend. I trust her implicitly. Perhaps she will make a ‘you-tube’ video about my blog; perhaps she will use the footage in her documentary. I have no attachments. All I know is that the peaceful feeling in my heart tells me that what we are doing is very important. 

Called on the Carpet 

Thursday evening brings with it a very unexpected and difficult conversation. As I talk with Rae about my emotional struggles regarding Anton, she turns the topic around, calling me on a couple of my own issues regarding my unreasonable and brutal rejection of Anton. 

To her surprise, I respond to Rae that she is correct – that I recognize that I am indeed running a pattern of rejection – a pattern that I now realize as being one that I have engaged in many times during my life. The pattern has been triggered every time I have gotten close to someone (mostly friends) with whom I later felt betrayed by or rejected in some way. 

In each of those situations I went into a deep backslide, often taking years before I could reach a point of forgiveness and of taking personal responsibility for what actually happened between us. 

“I recognize that this is what is happening with Anton.” I confess to Rae. “But I have a very optimistic prediction. I predict that rather than taking years to work through the loop, this time I will do it in a matter of days.” 

Unexpected Assistance 

As I drift off to sleep on Thursday evening, I begin to feel a deep sense of confusion regarding the way in which I treated Anton today. Rae’s gentle pushing has caused me to be more honest with myself, yet I also feel completely justified in backing away. I know that I simply can not talk to Anton until I work through my own projections first. If I make any attempt to do so before working out my issues, I might say or do things that I will most likely regret. 

Before totally drifting off to dreamland, I send a quick email to Keith asking if it is possible to come over early on Friday morning to discuss my confusion – perhaps a while before his first private appointment of the day. 

Early Friday morning, after achieving a great deal of peaceful closure via Keith’s loving assistance, I am unexpectedly invited to remain on Keith’s porch in order to assist in his 9:00 a.m. private appointment. The woman who made the appointment knows me, and would greatly appreciate my supporting energy. 

To my surprise, the entire topic of the three hour private session is her current ongoing relationship struggle. I chuckle as I again recognize how the flow of the Universe brings exactly what I need. 

Throughout this other woman’s appointment, many of the words that Keith shares with her are also deeply appropriate for me. 

I Created It? 

The 12:30 group session starts exactly on time, but after the chocolate is distributed, the next hour and fifteen minutes is uncharacteristically filled with absolutely boring and irrelevant chatter – people talking about regional politics around Lake Atitlan, and many related issues regarding which I am not the least bit interested. To make matters worse, Keith is eagerly participating right in the heart of this conversation, actually encouraging it. 

Having been through the judgment routine a few times before, I patiently wait, knowing that any minute now Keith will disengage from the meaningless drivel and will actually begin some real work in group. I am happy when I make it through the first hour still having a very calm and peaceful attitude. 

It is the next fifteen minutes that really begin to wear on me, driving me gradually from minor annoyance into deeper judgment – but still, I resist the desire to interrupt, opting instead to continue sitting back – knowing that when group actually does start that I will briefly mention to Keith that I was a little triggered by the delay, and ask to talk about it. 

Finally, at 1:45 (yes, by then I had actually begun to closely track my watch), Keith casually interrupts the discussion and says, “OK, let’s do some work now.” 

It is no surprise to me when Keith turns and looks right at me. 

“I’m feeling a little bit triggered by having spent the last hour and fifteen minutes in what feels like meaningless conversation.” I innocently volunteer my frustration. “I feel as if I am wasting both my time and money when we delay like this.” 

“That is very interesting,” Keith replies quite matter-of-factly, “seeing how you created this reality. I am merely following YOUR energy. You are the one who wanted me to do this today. You are the one who created this. Why did you do that?” 

“This is not the first time this has happened to you.” Keith continues, “It is a very big-time event when you begin to realize this.” 

“It is time for you to see yourself as either a victim of this reality,” Keith adds with emphasis, “or to see yourself as a sovereign being who creates your own reality.” 

Speechless in the Dream 

I am utterly speechless as I stare back into Keith’s eyes. He is absolutely serious about the words that just left his lips. I trust him implicitly and begin to regress deeply into the bizarre meaning and possibilities of what I just heard him say. I soon lose myself deep in meditation while Keith talks to a few other people. 

“Brenda, how are you doing?” Keith suddenly turns attention back to me. 

I am surprised by my own response. 

“I feel as if I am in a lucid dream,” I begin, “and that everyone here on the porch is literally a part of that dream, playing their appropriate roles, giving me exactly what I need to trigger me and to help me heal and wakeup.” 

As if on cue, everyone on the porch lets out a slight chuckle. To me, the chuckle sounds eerily like beings from another realm, acknowledging that “It is about time you figured that out.” 

I look blankly into Keith’s face. His eyes are glowing with light. 

“Could he be one of my guides, trying to help me wake up from inside of the dream?” I ponder to myself. 

The thought boggles my mind. 

“Are you awake?” I ask bluntly when Keith’s attention returns to me. 

“No, Brenda,” Keith replies lovingly, “if you are asking whether I am an awakened being, I am not. I am still in the dream just like you are.” 

Fear of the Light 

As Keith begins to work his way around the porch, assisting others, I gradually shut down and melt into a puddle of tears. Deep fear is beginning to run through my soul – fear of waking up in the dream – fear of losing my smallness – fear of no longer being able to use the excuse that I am a victim of my childhood shutdown – fear of having to actually live up to the light that is beginning to surface inside of me. 

Perhaps terror might be a better word. 

When Keith finally returns to work with me, I am deeply emotional, crying in mild waves. As I attempt to express to him how numb, empty, helpless, and hopeless that I feel, the tears suddenly rise exponentially to a new level of outburst. 

Without asking permission, one budding empath in the group walks over and lovingly places her hand on my heart. Almost instantly, I feel the intensity of my deep emotion vanish, as if she had literally taken it away from me. 

“Stop,” I exclaim lovingly, “please don’t do that. You are fixing me. I need to feel these emotions. I need to understand and work through them. You made them all go away simply by touching me. You are very powerful, and I thank you, but please stop.” 

The poor woman feels devastated as I lovingly reprimand her. She begins to turn away to move back to her seat. 

“No, I want you to stay and assist.” Keith asks as he tells her to sit down by my feet without touching me.” 

For a short while, I am completely unable to access my tears, while at the same time I know that I need to find them again and get them out. Gradually the emotions inside again begin to boil, rising to the surface once more in the form of deep tears. 

Swallowing My Pride 

A deep internal knowing soon speaks to my heart. 

“Ask Anton to help you.” The inner voices prod me incessantly. “You need Anton’s help for this next emotional release.” 

I resist the intuition and say nothing. 

“Get over your pride and just ask already.” The intuitions again flood through my heart. 

Finally I give in and decide to swallow my pride. 

“I can’t explain why,” I tell Keith, “but I feel strongly that I need to ask for Anton’s help in this next process.” 

“Thank God,” Anton tells me with a sigh of relief. “I have been waiting for that request all day long.”

Seconds later, Anton is sitting at my feet, his energy-filled hands working their magic on me. 

What Was That 

Literally, within ten seconds of Anton grabbing my feet, I begin to experience deeply intense, heart-aching, horribly-painful emotion. It is powerful emotion, stronger than I remember ever consciously feeling in my entire life – yet the emotional intensity is eerily familiar. Deep intuition tells me that this emotion has merely been forgotten – that it is emotion that originated and was later stuffed away during my late teen years. 

I begin to experience what I can only describe as dry heaves, going through the motions of actually vomiting out this emotion in a physical way – only what comes out of my throat is merely energy. The sensation of feeling my heart squeezed by the agonizing pain is overwhelming and almost unbearable. 

The energetic vomiting goes on for five or ten minutes. Gradually it slightly lessens in intensity, first shifting into hyper ventilation – extremely rapid and deep breathing – as if I am catching my breath after an intense round of aerobic activity. Eventually, the emotion fizzles with a few final spurting waves – last ditch sobs followed by calm silence.

 When my breathing has completely returned to normal, I open my eyes and look around until I make confused eye contact with Keith. 

“What was that?” I ask with an expression of shock and amazement. 

Bring in the Light 

“Bring in the light, now,” Keith coaches me after a brief discussion. “Fill up the empty space that has been left behind by the emotional densities that are now gone. Bring in the light to fill it up.” 

Soon I am once again basking in the higher energies. 

For the remainder of session, I sit in shock, feeling quite weak and light-headed. As group comes to conclusion, the tides are turned as I am now the wobbly one needing help in getting home, and Anton is the one who volunteers to help me. 

I realize that I continue to have more of my own issues and projections through which I need to work before my friendship with Anton can be completely healed, yet I am deeply grateful for how his assistance played such a key role in today’s growth and release – and I profoundly appreciate the way in which he lovingly supports me in spite of the way I am treating him. 

As the two of us walk quietly toward my house, I simply smile in quiet reverence at how my Higher Self does indeed seem to be taking me on a powerful journey of healing, and the only thing I need to do is to show up and to be present, paying attention and responding appropriately to the cues that are continuously placed in front of me. 

I am blown away as I ponder the possibilities. 

Reiki Magic 

Later that evening, as Rae and I prepare for bed, I volunteer to do a little more Reiki and energy sharing with her. To our amazement, we both notice that the energy flow coming out of my hands is much more powerful than ever before. For a couple of hours, I bask in the beautiful energies while sharing them with Rae, loving the instant feedback that I often receive as she shares her experience with me. 

Finally, Rae and I cuddle again on the daybed until around midnight. I am so deeply grateful for my amazing friend – for the beautiful experiences we have shared in so many ways. I am going to deeply miss her when she returns home on Sunday morning. But in the meantime, I relish every opportunity to share her energy and to strengthen our friendship – a friendship that I know will continue to grow and flourish well beyond Keith’s porch. 

My Creations? 

As I finally rest my head on my pillow late on Friday night – actually during the wee hours of Saturday morning – I cannot help but reflect on what has truly been an amazing day – actually make that an amazing week. 

“Can it be true?” I again ask myself. “Is it really possible that I am actually creating my own reality?” 

Of course, I realize that my finite rational mind is not the one doing the actual creating. It is the flow of my own higher energies that is doing the creating. The closer I get to connecting with the reality of that Higher Self, the more I begin to feel and recognize the undeniable flow as it works its magic all around me. 

A quick glance backward through time tells me that literally everything that has taken place in the last couple of weeks has been beautifully orchestrated in ways that seem specifically tailored for my needs. I could not have architected them myself in a more powerful and amazing sequence. 

I am eager to begin paying much closer attention to everything that goes on around me. The first and most obvious place I plan to do that is right in my favorite magical playground – the middle of Keith’s porch. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Don’t Wait Up

April 12th, 2011

It is Wednesday – the last Wednesday of what has been a deeply healing and powerful month of February. As I sit on Keith’s magical porch, my heart is aglow, overflowing with loving energy, light energy that I freely radiate and share with others – well at least with others of the female gender, that is. 

My heart ties itself in knots whenever I ponder the thought of approaching anyone of the masculine persuasion with the intention of volunteering to share a portion of my overflowing light. The source of this intense fear remains deeply buried. 

As I sit cross-legged in the middle of the chocolate porch, I quietly share a little energy with a woman who I intuitively know needs a little loving support. During a quick glance to my left, I notice the large bare feet of a man, less than a foot away, within easy reach of my loving energy. I later learn that his name is Anton. 

“Put your left hand on his feet.” The Jedi voices vibrate quietly in the recesses of my heart. 

“No.” I initially resist. “He is a man … I cannot do that … I won’t do that … that would be too forward of me.” 

I repeatedly fight the intuition as I glance upward at Anton’s face. He is seated on the ground, reclining with his back against a chair. He looks pleasant enough with his peacefully closed eyes and slightly messed up short blond hair. My guess is that he is approximately my own age – a fact that makes me even more reluctant to place my hands on his feet. 

“What if he thinks I am showing a personal romantic interest in him?” I cringe with doubt. “That is the last message I want to convey.” 

Permission Granted 

The battle between head and heart lingers for a few long drawn-out minutes, but eventually heart wins. 

Still cowering in fearful hesitation, I tentatively place my left hand several inches above Anton’s feet, focusing the energy that radiates from my palms downward into his toes. 

As I stare into Anton’s face, his eyes still being closed, I notice that his entire expression quickly changes to a softer, more relaxed look. 

I bring my hand down closer, about an inch from the tops of Anton’s feet, continuing to focus my unconditionally loving energy in his direction. I want to briefly tap him on the toes to ask for his permission to continue, but the energy flowing through my hands gets his attention for me. Almost immediately, Anton briefly opens his eyes, makes eye contact, smiles, and nods his head, indicating that it is OK for me to proceed. 

Destination Unknown  

Within seconds, both of my hands are resting lightly on his bare feet. His eyes remain closed and peaceful, but almost immediately Anton’s shoulders, jaw, and eyes begins to lightly shake. I am completely clueless as to what is going on, but strong intuition tells me that my energy is anchoring Anton in some type of spiritual energy journey.  

After about twenty minutes – long minutes in which Anton’s closed eyes and relaxed face continue to lightly twitch and vibrate – internal intuitions tell me that it is time to move on. As I remove my hands from Anton’s feet, I notice a sudden reaction of distress in his face. Slightly confused by what just took place, I continue to share energy with others on the porch, going wherever my heart guides me. 

More than an hour later, I feel guided back to work with Anton – but this time my intuition causes me to sit on the chair just behind him and to his right – between Anton and another young man that is also seated on the ground. 

Facing my uneasy fears of masculine energy, I check in with both Anton and the young man on my right, making sure they are OK with me placing my hands on their backs. 

“Oh oh!” Anton exclaims with a slightly confused look in his eyes before granting his permission. “Am I going to go on another trip?” 

“I don’t know.” I reply with a giggle. “That is completely up to you.” 

As I place my left hand on Anton’s back and my right on the back of the other young man, I feel tingling energy flowing through my palms. I quickly notice that Anton has again entered some type of energy vortex, seemingly going into some type of other reality. As before, I work with Anton and the young man to his right for about twenty minutes before feeling intuitively guided that it is now time for me to sit and meditate on my own. 

Again, I take note of the fact that Anton seems to go into a brief period of deep distress at the very instant in which I remove my hand. 

Feedback Galore 

It is indeed a magical day on Keith’s porch. My own energy skyrockets as I hold space for one person after another, assisting others both in emotional release and subconscious exploration. 

As the chocolate ceremony comes to a conclusion, several people approach me to provide much desired feedback – beautiful words assuring me that they felt a strong flow of warm and loving energy, that my assistance was deeply appreciated and powerfully received. I love to hear such words of encouragement and validation. Often, I still doubt myself, wondering if any of the energy sharing that I am doing is really being felt by anyone else. Today’s feedback warms my heart and fills my soul with joy. But it is Anton’s feedback that most peaks my curiosity. 

“How long was I gone?” Anton asks me with an emotional tone and a puzzled look. “I don’t remember anything – I have no memory at all of what happened during the two times that you put your hands on me.” 

Inception Conceptions 

In a much needed girl’s night out, Rae and I take a detour straight from Keith’s porch, devouring burgers and fries at a local restaurant while immersing ourselves in a showing of the movie ‘Inception’ – a fascinating exploration into the concepts of lucid dreaming and the illusory reality in which we play out our lives. 

Afterward, the two of us engage in an animated spiritual discussion about the concepts raised in the movie – a delightful and thought-provoking conversation that goes on until well after 11:00 p.m..  

Even though it is way past my bedtime, Rae and I stay up even later while I practice Reiki on her, loving the instantaneous feedback she provides regarding the powerful flow of energy that she feels. Soon, the vertical Reiki turns into horizontal Reiki, and the two of us are again cuddling on the daybed in our living room – a cuddling that does not end until 3:00 a.m. at which time I crawl off to my bed, increasingly frustrated that I simply cannot fall asleep while touching the energy field of another. 

I love the feeling of energy flowing back and forth between two living souls – I begin to crave the idea of sharing such energy in a romantic relationship. Such energy sharing is so safe with Rae – but the thought of doing something so innocent and beautiful with someone in a male body continues to be absolutely intimidating. 

“Why is that?” I silently ask myself while drifting off to sleep. “I wonder if I will ever have a safe opportunity to share such beautiful energy with a man.” 

The Divine Masculine 

After a few hic-ups into slight victim energy on Thursday morning, I quickly re-energize my deeply centered loving energy shortly after drinking chocolate on Keith’s porch. I am fully prepared for another amazing day of sharing energy with others, but have long since learned to be completely unattached to the unpredictable flow of events as directed by my Higher Self. 

As Keith places his intuitive eye in my direction, I begin sharing with him regarding all of my deep insights about how beliefs, thoughts, and concepts are all merely energy stored in our field, then raising the question about why these silly little energy blobs have so much power to control our lives – wondering why these dense low-vibration energies carry so much influence in preventing us from connecting to higher energies. 

“Brenda,” Keith soon interrupts me. “Bring in more energy through your crown chakra.” 

Keith’s comment catches me completely off guard. As I check in with my energy flow, I quickly recognize that the energy flow in my head continues to feel flat and nearly nonexistent. Except in rare circumstances, I seldom feel energy flowing in my upper chakras. 

For several minutes I focus on surrendering and allowing, meditatively asking for the assistance of higher energies. For the same several minutes, I feel nothing but stuck. 

“Go in and find out why.” Keith guides me into meditation before leaving to work with someone else. 

Using subconscious metaphors to guide me, I imagine the energy rising from Mother Earth as the Divine Feminine. Even though I am still partially blocked in my lower chakras, today I can indeed feel this feminine flow gently rising from below. Likewise, I imagine the energies coming down from above as being the Divine Masculine energies from the Sun and from the Cosmos above. To my bewilderment, those energy flows continue to feel completely blocked. 

Out of nowhere, a new metaphorical image unexpectedly pops into my imagination – a visual of my father holding his hands gently on the top of my head. 

Masculine Shutdown 

The intuitive understanding immediately floods my conscious awareness. The Mormon religion bestows the Priesthood upon all worthy male members – an ordination of divine (masculine) authority to act in God’s name so long as such priesthood authority is used properly under the rules and direction of the male hierarchy of the church. 

During my early life, my father (and other church leaders too) frequently placed their hands on my head – usually to bestow blessings for healing, or to ordain me with various callings or responsibilities in my religion. Always, the blessings were done with masculine authority, believed to be of Divine origin. Rarely, if ever, did I feel internally comfortable in receiving or giving such blessings to others. 

I quickly remember recent recognitions in which I realized that I was deeply abused by my childhood religion – not in explicit obvious ways, but in psychic, energetic ways. This new metaphor strongly reinforces the intellectual understanding that the shutdown of my inner magic – a shutdown that continues to restrict energy flow in my crown chakra – is directly related to the masculine authority of my religious upbringing. 

As tears begin to stream down my cheeks, I whisper a “thank you” to my guides for bringing newfound clarity. 

Yes, as a very young child, I shut down my own crown chakra in an effort to prevent the psychic abuse of the masculine energies that were subtly being used to reprogram me – to erase my true divine magic, replacing it with what my young inner child knew to be a well-intentioned but masterful counterfeit. 

Throughout my gradual spiritual reawakening, I have subconsciously blamed God for withholding these energies from me. Now, I again receive a powerful understanding of the fact that the energies have always been there, I simply need to unblock my own body, allowing them to once again flow freely. 

Pity Party Palace 

As my tears intensify, Keith soon returns to my side to guide me in a deeper journey. 

“Go down there.” Keith instructs me. “Go right down into the middle of this deep emotion.” 

As I begin to visualize, I feel myself again standing at the edge of what feels like a black and bottomless pit. But this time there is no ladder or staircase, only a single long rope dangling out in the middle. 

“Go down the rope.” Keith again coaches me. 

I try to imagine myself hanging on the rope, slowly climbing down, wrapping my leg around the rope as I slowly inch downward. But try as I might, I feel deeply distracted while simultaneously experiencing considerable internal resistance. I cannot climb down. I won’t climb down. 

“Let go of the resistance and throw it down the hole.” Keith blurts out unexpectedly. “See what happens when you do that.” 

Again I resist. I don’t see how I can possibly let go of the stubborn fears. Finally, in desperation, I simply imagine myself letting go of the rope, falling … falling … falling. 

“I just splash-landed in a pool at the bottom of the cavern.” I begin to explain to Keith as I keep him posted on my progress. “The temperature of the water is cool and I cannot feel a bottom with my feet.” 

I then express my surprise by the fact that a dim light seems to be illuminating a small area just a short distance away. I imagine myself swimming over to the edge of the pool and then climbing out onto what feels like a flat area. 

Almost immediately, I sense the presence of a sofa, a large television, and a surround-sound movie system. 

“This feels like my pity party room.” I tell Keith with surprise. “It is a place I can come to when I am so depressed that I literally need to hide from my emotions … a place where I can lose myself, let go of the pain, and recharge my empty soul. 

I continue explaining how I have always isolated myself during my deepest periods of feeling victimized and misunderstood – periods when I have felt desperate, alone, and hopeless. It is a place where I struggled to regroup, to let go of unbearable emotions, to pick up the pieces of my heart, and to breathe new life and hope into what felt like a future of futility. 

“This place feels very safe.” I explain further to Keith. “I recognize that coming here has literally saved my life, serving me well in times where I had no other outlet.” 

“But now,” I add, “I am tired of coming here …” 

A Drop of Light 

“Now that you have found the bottom,” Keith resumes coaching me, “bring in the higher energies to transmute this dense energy.” 

As I meditate on this new task, I feel very powerful and peaceful, but am still not experiencing a strong energy flow anywhere in my upper chakras. While continuing to envision this incoming light, I imagine that a single small drop of the magical energy finds its way into the center of my head. 

Suddenly, I feel as if I have received a powerful gift – a feeling of deep joy accompanied by vivid purple and blue visual images dancing in my mind – a deep realization that the real gift is a deep understanding of the pain of how it feels to be shut down, an understanding that will teach me to love more fully, to better help others in their own awakening paths. 

Tears of joy and gratitude stream down my cheeks, while at the same time I intuitively know that I have still barely scratched the surface in reopening the deep magic buried deeply in both my upper and my lower chakras. 

Evening Wrap-up 

As the chocolate ceremony comes to conclusion, the rational mind part of me is deeply judgmental, simply ranting that I am looping over and over in the same stuff, scamming myself with imaginary meditations, not really doing anything productive at all. These thoughts of self-judgment and self-doubt are quite persistent, demanding that I give them a voice. 

Deep gratitude warms my heart as I discuss this resurging inner battle with Keith. With love and patience in his eyes, Keith shares how he used to raise the same questions in his own healing journey, and how every time his guides would gently reassure him of the same thing that he now reassures in me – that I am indeed doing real and powerful work, peeling back one real layer of density after another. 

As I briefly review my last eight months, deep gratitude flows in my veins. There is no doubt whatsoever as to the profound healing that continues to expand in my heart – there is no doubt whatsoever that today’s work was indeed real and that considerable magic is already beginning to open up. 

“Just allow more time to integrate.” I gently reassure myself. 

Budding Metaphors 

At the start of Friday’s chocolate ceremony, I experience a feeling of focused and painful pressure, right at the center of my third eye chakra. Churning pains in my solar plexus and sacral areas also demand my metaphorical attention. I do not yet know it, but these pains are destined to be my companions for considerable time to come, frequently recurring whenever I drink chocolate, reminding me of the continued ongoing blockages in both my upper and lower chakras, reminding me of how these blockages are all related to my childhood energetic shutdown. 

But as I ponder these budding metaphorical mysteries, my attention is quickly drawn to the work of others. My heart tells me that today will not be a day in which I work on myself. I soon find myself exploring my own inner magic at the experiential level. 

Gradually, I follow my intuition from one person to the next, while at the same time resisting an internal guidance to go work further with Anton. My strong resistance of male energy continues to push Anton away. Part of me wants to ignore the strange energetic events of Wednesday. 

Finally, after over an hour of shining energetic love for others, I surrender to internal guidance, sitting on the ground by Anton’s side, lightly placing my hands on his feet. 

Suddenly Severed 

Almost immediately Anton’s head sinks forward, with his chin nearly touching his chest. It is obvious that Anton is no longer present in this reality. About thirty seconds later, desiring to test a theory that has been forming in my mind ever since Wednesday, I remove my hands from Anton’s feet. Within a fraction of a second, Anton’s head raises up as he is jerked forcefully back to consciousness, as if his lifeline to wherever he was connected has been suddenly severed. 

Just to make sure I am not imagining things, I again place my hands on Anton’s feet. Almost immediately he sinks into some type of trance for a second time. Fifteen seconds later I once again remove my hands, causing Anton to repeat his sudden jerking motion while appearing to gasp for breath. 

By this time, I intuitively know that something very powerful is taking place, and that I am in way over my head. 

“Keith,” I call out, “I need your help over here.” 

Finger Tip Trance 

For the remainder of Friday’s session, all attention is focused on Anton and on the undeniable energetic connection that exists between him and me. 

Attempting to do so without further traumatizing Anton, I demonstrate to Keith regarding the strange way in which my specific energy pulls Anton into and out of some type of trance. Each time, I feel slightly guilty as I witness the trauma through which Anton appears to pass when my touch is withdrawn. 

Under Keith’s guidance, we perform several repeated experiments in an attempt to further understand what is taking place. Eventually, we discover that just the mere touch of the tip of my little finger is all that it takes to pull Anton into and out of his trance state. Through the process of elimination we also rule out the energy of others – as bizarre as it may seem, only my specific energy seems to have this effect on Anton. 

As occasionally occurs on Keith’s porch, my body eventually informs me that I require a quick trip into a nearby bathroom. To my surprise, as I carefully remove my fingertip from Anton’s leg, he does not seem to react in any way whatsoever. Carefully backing away, I leave him under the care of three other women who are gathered around holding space for him. Less than thirty seconds later, as I hurriedly exit the bathroom door, I am totally unprepared for what I encounter. 

Anton is perched up on a chair, in a state of near panic. The moment he sees my face, he lunges off the chair with hands outstretched, frantically grasping for my own hands. As we reconnect energetically, Anton relaxes back to his position on the ground and quickly drifts back into never-never land. 

I feel quite puzzled, wondering what this all means. 

Impeccable Timing 

“Why is it that Anton and I have such a strange and unique energetic connection?” I ponder to myself. “And why is this happening now?” 

I cannot help but marvel that only yesterday I was deeply processing my lifelong rejection of masculine energy, and that only two days ago, as I cuddled with Rae on our daybed, I was deeply craving the opportunity to share similar safe energy with someone of the male persuasion. 

“This is not exactly what I had in mind.” I joyfully giggle to myself as I ponder the circumstances, realizing that the situation unfolding around me is exactly what I need to experience at this very moment in order to facilitate my growth. 

What’s Your Name? 

“Anton, the goal is to see if you can stay conscious when you connect with this high energy state.” Keith begins to coach Anton. 

Keith asks me to continue working with Anton, holding his hands, feeding him my energy while he attempts to stay conscious. Very frequently Anton drifts off and I try to pull him back with my voice, without releasing our physical connection, attempting to make his transitions easier. 

Occasionally Anton opens his eyes and tries to speak, but no sounds are made by his slowly moving lips. When he attempts to speak, I begin to talk to him. 

“Hello Anton.” I begin. “Are you back … Are you here?” 

When he does not respond, I continue talking. 

“Come back to us … Come back to this dimension.” I coach him. 

I soon get another flash of intuition, one telling me to ask him an obvious question. 

“What is your name?” I ask Anton as he struggles to bring sound to his lips. “Can you tell me your name?” 

Finally, with great effort, Anton squeezes out the words, “Anton … my name is Anton,” following which a big smile returns to his face. 

My Angel 

Anton and I continue working together throughout the afternoon. Gradually, he reaches a state where returning to life in the physical dimension is not as traumatic – but still quite difficult. 

“I don’t want to return when I am there.” Anton whispers to me. “There is so much joy there that it is like I am having a continuous energetic orgasm.” 

Anton struggles to remember anything else, continually coming up empty in the description department, other than reiterating that it is a place of intense pleasure and joy. 

“Several times when you are asking me my name, trying to bring me back,” Anton further fills me in, “I see you as an angel, my angel, helping me, guiding me. You have a bright and radiant golden orangish-pink aura shining brilliantly around you. You are so amazingly beautiful.” 

“I am not sure if you are there in the other dimension with me,” Anton continues, “or if you are simply welcoming me back when I return.”

I almost blush as I contemplate Anton’s unexpected words. 

The Word 

As group ends, people filter out one by one. I remain in the center of the porch, holding Anton’s hand while he sleeps comfortably on several cushions, oblivious to what is going on around him. Keith decides that Anton could use a little rest, so I simply maintain a loving and safe space while continuing to hold his hand, making no attempt to bring him back to physical awareness. 

Finally, around 8:00 p.m., Keith decides that it is time to wake Anton up. I gently begin talking to him, asking him to wake up, calling him back and asking him to say his name. When Anton finally wakes up, I gently release his hand, and we begin to talk. He is exhausted and confused, having very few memories surrounding what has taken place on the porch during the previous five hours, but he does remind me that I am his beautiful angel with the brilliant aura. 

Keith and I slowly assist Anton in walking to his hotel. Anton is quite physically unstable and slightly disoriented, so Keith walks on one side, supporting one of Anton’s arms, while I do the same on the other. 

As my head finally rests on my own pillow, late on Friday night, I cannot help but briefly ponder something that Anton had told me right at the start of group today. 

 “Brenda, I have a word for you, written on a piece of paper in my back pocket.” Anton had told me. “This word came to me in meditation this morning. As soon as you figure it out, I will show you the piece of paper.” 

As I drift off to sleep, I am simply too tired to even care what that silly word might be. 

A Day in Limbo 

Early Saturday morning, I have every intention of writing, but my energy is simply too fragmented and distracted. Even though I am quite emotionally stable, I feel a deep need to simply isolate and integrate the boggling growth through which I have been passing all week long.  A prime opportunity to write turns into a much needed and much deserved day of simply doing nothing. 

Feelings of Jealousy 

As group begins on Sunday afternoon, I am quickly greeted by another round of painful churning energy in my abdomen, casually reminding me that I continue to have considerable blockage in my second chakra – the chakra related to creativity and sexuality. I am getting quite tired of this recurring reminder, but am also grateful for the metaphorical message that I still have more work to do, especially in the areas relating to the suppression of my sexuality. 

As I focus on following the metaphorical threads of my own process, I watch with a sense of slight annoyance and jealousy as Keith asks others to work with Anton, specifically instructing me to remain at a distance, at least for now. The presence of my energy might slightly complicate what Keith wants to accomplish with Anton. 

Keith is now quite certain that Anton is being taken to a very powerful and high state of Kundalini energy – an energy so intense that it literally overwhelms Anton, making him go unconscious. 

“You need to remain conscious so that you can learn how to share this energy with others.” Keith tells Anton. “If you don’t learn how to share this energy gift, rather than simply keeping it for yourself, it is quite possible that the higher energies might shut this process down.” 

Immersed in a feeling of slight sadness, I simply meditate and ponder my own emotional process as Anton begins working with Keith and others, learning how to consciously remain present while sharing his gift with many others on the porch. 

I nearly jump for joy when, after nearly two hours, Keith finally indicates that it is now OK if I too want to participate with Anton, who has now managed to reach a state where he is mostly able to remain conscious. Others in the group have seemed to benefit greatly from the energy that Anton has shared with them. I am eager and hoping that just maybe I might experience similar benefits. 

Intimate Sharing 

“Would you like me to try taking you with me?” Anton asks me lovingly. 

With both of us sitting face to face on the ground, we grasp each other’s hands. Our legs are slightly intertwined, allowing us so scoot closer together while we stare deeply into each other’s eyes. 

I am both doubtful and fearful regarding where I am about to go – or perhaps not go. As much as I meant the “yes” answer that I so easily gave to Anton, I still do not trust my ability to be taken anywhere – it has never happened before, and my energies are still quite blocked. The less-doubtful-but-fearful part of me is quite nervous about the implications of what will happen if I am actually taken somewhere. 

As Anton attempts to guide me deep into the energies, I feel as stuck as ever. Yes, I feel a very pleasurable-but-mild flow of energy passing through my body, but I find it difficult to keep up with Anton’s attempts to get me to visualize colors and energy balls, both his and mine interacting with each other. I feel as if Anton is rushing me and pushing me, not giving me adequate time to internally visualize one thing before attempting to direct me into another. I want to deeply believe that Anton might be capable of guiding me into the same energy that he finds it so easy to experience, yet his methods are simply not working for me while I simultaneously sense a very full porch filled with eyes, all staring in my direction.  

Keith soon joins in on the coaching, asking me to visualize energy coming from Mother Earth, entering through my root chakra, rising up through my body, leaving my crown chakra, looping up into the heavens and back into the earth below me, and then back into my root chakra – all in one continuous circular flow. 

Again, I feel stuck. After nearly an hour of what turns out to feel like a very intimate energy sharing experience, I feel disappointed and unimpressed by the weak energy flow that I was able to achieve. 

Two Possible Truths 

“Something is definitely wrong with me.” Part of me grumbles silently. “So many other people seem to easily feel and share the powerful energy flowing through Anton. I really should be wearing the dunce cap in the back corner of the classroom.” 

A different part of me – a part that is much more awake and aware – simply ignores the silly feelings of disappointment and defectiveness. My process today has clearly revealed that I continue to deal with deeply repressed second chakra issues – both in the areas of sexuality and creativity. As much as I want to heal these areas of my life, I am still completely incapable of fully allowing and embracing male energies into my life. 

It is time to face these deeper issues head on. 

The Flow Continues 

So far, the entire week seems to have been beautifully choreographed for my personal healing. It is no surprise to me that Monday morning continues in perfect fashion. On this final morning of February, I had already previously scheduled a private appointment with Keith – an appointment that had been in the books for several days – an appointment that I made on a mere whim, having had no idea why I needed it, just knowing that I did. 

I ask Rae to join me. As the two of us take an early morning stroll out toward Keith’s magical porch, I already know that I will be digging as far as possible into my deeply rooted issues of repressed sexuality and rejection of masculine energies. 

Diving Platforms 

“I have a very confusing energy that has been presenting itself for over two years now.” I inform Keith as the strange metaphor once again presents itself early during the private session. 

“I have a flat horizontal line of energy that feels as if it is pushing quite firmly right against the bridge of my nose.” I continue. “Can you help me understand how it might be related to the repression of my sexual energies?” 

Keith guides me deeper into meditation, asking me to climb up into my nose and to sit down with the energy, telling him what it is I feel or see. 

“This is quite crazy,” I tell Keith, “but what comes to mind is the large cliff-diving platform on the far side of the hill at the west end of San Marcos.” 

As Keith and I explore the metaphor further, I realize that since this platform is situated right at the bridge of my nose, it is in a perfect place for my third-eye chakra to step right out of my forehead and to take a flying jump right into the depths of my second chakra – a chakra that is now unexpectedly churning with cramps and gas in a mildly-painful and quite physical way. 

I intuitively feel that the shutdown of the magic in my head is directly connected to the shutdown of my creativity and sexuality. 

Bottomless Pit 

“Let’s go down there and explore what is happening in your second chakra.” Keith guides me as we literally jump from one metaphor to the next. 

Sitting with eyes closed in meditation, I again visualize a metaphor which has now been coming to me quite frequently. I find myself standing at the edge of what I know to be a very large bottomless pit. 

As I imagine the depths below, visualizing the darkness into which light is unable to penetrate, a deep sense of overriding fear completely overwhelms my body. 

“I know I need to go down there.” I tell Keith with a sense of frightened confusion. “I desperately want to go down there, but I don’t think I can do it. Something inside of me will not allow me to even try.” 

Light tears trickle down my cheeks as I contemplate the profound intensity of the fear that is now blocking my progress, causing me to tremble at the mere thought. 

Angelic Assistants 

“Go find your little inner child and take her hand.” Keith surprises me by taking the meditation into a new direction. 

“Grab two lawn chairs and go sit down with your little girl at the edge of that pit.” Keith continues coaching me. “Invite your Higher Self to join you, having her stand behind or beside you.” 

Keith then guides me in asking my Higher Self to organize a large work crew of angels to come with shovels and buckets. As soon as I intuitively sense that they are all assembled, I ask them all to work under the guidance of my Higher Self, using their shovels and buckets to begin cleaning up the fears and emotional densities in this bottomless pit as directed by my own higher energies. 

To my surprise, as I use the meditative process to carry out Keith’s instructions, I feel a great deal of peace beginning to flow in my body. I literally feel as if an angelic crew is actually performing energetic tasks within my body – tasks surrounded by so much terrifying fear that I simply could not perform them without some type of higher assistance.  

Deep gratitude fills my soul as I spend the remainder of my private session basking in the active energies of this ongoing excavation project. To my surprise, I shed very few tears, and instead simply sunbathe in the wonderment of what happens when I merely ask higher energies to help perform tasks – tasks that are ready to be done – but tasks that I am quite incapable of performing by myself. 

A Second Try 

During the Monday afternoon session, I again do considerable work with Anton, assisting him in remaining quite conscious while he explores his amazing gifts with energy. In fact, he is becoming quite proficient at remaining present and coherent while at the same time channeling a large flow of energy through his body. 

As the last hour of session begins, I find myself sitting in a large green camping chair when Anton makes his way over to my seat. 

“Would you like me to give it another go?” Anton asks lovingly, indicating that he would like to help me in another attempt to meditate deeper into the energies. 

Before I have time to concern myself with appearances, Anton has placed a couple of foam pads between my feet and is kneeling on the ground between my knees, holding my hands in his while resting his arms on my thighs. 

The position is conspicuously intimate. The old me would have been terrified, making a quick attempt to avoid the appearance of anything that someone may deem as inappropriate – but the new me simply closes my eyes and surrenders, ignoring what anyone else may think, quickly immersing myself into the meditative guidance that begins flowing from Anton’s mouth. 

I am quite enjoying the experience. 

Glass Balls and Tiny Crystals 

Anton soon guides me into a powerful meditation – a meditation in which I find myself inside of a large glass ball that is filled with hundreds of thousands of little tiny quartz crystals, each of which is highly energized with energy. 

As I imagine myself rolling around in the amazing crystal playground, my whole body begins to tingle with mild, pleasurable energy. While I regretfully remain firmly anchored in physical reality, I have definitely found a new favorite meditation – one that I hope will continue to bring such amazing energy. 

Daunting Dinner 

As the final group in February winds down to its final seconds, Anton smiles at me and asks if I would like to go to dinner with him. 

“I would love to.” I eagerly reply, while at the same time recognizing that I have a daunting task ahead. 

While I barely know Anton, it seems obvious that the Universe has brought us together in an undeniably synchronous way. Part of me wonders if perhaps Anton might be someone with whom I might be interested in sharing a relationship. That same part of me also knows that I could never initiate the possibility of such a journey without Anton being aware of my story. 

Sharing my transgender journey has been extremely easy as of late – something I casually do whenever internal guidance gives me the intuitive signals – but sharing my story with a man who might be interested in me in other ways has always dredged up huge fears.  

And The Word Is … 

Soon after Anton and I begin talking in the local Japanese restaurant, Keith walks in with Rae. Somehow, Keith had latched onto the idea that he and Rae were going to join us for dinner.  

“Oh, goody,” Keith approaches with a big smile, “you saved us seats.” 

“Uh, Keith,” I reply with a loving tone, “Anton and I would like a little privacy.” 

I am quite proud of myself for being so confident in my words, and at the same time I believe that Keith was only toying with me, knowing full well the situation, and simply following the prevailing energy by giving me another opportunity to find my loving power. 

Soon I am fully engaged in the daunting task of sharing my life story with Anton. Energetically, I already know that Anton will not have any emotional difficulties with my background, but nonetheless, the fears are present just the same. 

As I receive the expected “yawn” at sharing my story, Anton and I begin to engage in more casual conversation. The topic quickly diverts to our respective life journeys. 

Thirty minutes later, as I discuss the incredible synchronous healing path on which I find myself, I blurt out with confidence, “I am at a point in my exploration of male energies where I would love to have a safe opportunity to simply share energy with a man.” 

Anton’s face lights up with a grin as he interrupts, reaches into his back pocket, and begins to speak. 

“Do you remember last Friday when I told you that I had written a word and placed it in my back pocket?” Anton begins. “Well, here is the word.” 

My jaw drops with astonishment as I stare at the word. In my hand I hold a small scrap of paper on which is scribbled, in bold upper case letters, the word “SAFE.” 

An Unexpected Invitation 

After a few more minutes of deep sharing, Anton again catches me off guard with his next question. 

“Would you like to spend the night with me?” He asks with a loving peaceful smile. 

“Yes, I would love that,” I reply back with a giggle. “But I am not interested in sex, simply safe and energetic cuddling.” 

As Anton and I soon leave the restaurant, I spy Rae sitting by herself at a nearby table. Keith has momentarily wandered to another table to speak with friends. 

“Don’t wait up for me tonight.” I whisper in her ear with a joyful, child-like grin. “I won’t be home until tomorrow.” 

… To Be Continued … 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Quantum Fizz-ics and Wave Theory

April 2nd, 2011

The bed and walls begin to vibrate. It is a gentle shaking that lasts for ten to fifteen seconds. Having grown quite accustomed to the occasional tremor, I calmly glance at the time. It is 4:31 a.m. on Saturday morning, February 19. I later learn that the mild earthquake was only 4.4 on the Richter scale – not strong enough to cause any physical damage, but definitely carrying enough force to send an intuitive message – a message telling me that my world is about to be shaken up again, ever so slightly. 

At 5:30 a.m., as Rae and I scramble around in the kitchen while preparing an early morning breakfast, her large blue-glass bowl of oatmeal unexpectedly cracks and splits down the middle into two large pieces. As the oatmeal and fruit slowly ooze all over the counter, we glance at each other and begin to giggle with wonder and surprise. 

Then, as Rae turns on the faucet to do a little cleanup, an unpredictable and violent surge of water spurts out, ricocheting off a few dishes in the sink, sending splashes all over Rae’s clothes. Laughter again becomes uncontrollably contagious. 

While walking up a dark and narrow cobblestone path at 6:00 a.m., Rae and I again giggle with delight. We are on our way to meet up with Keith. The three of us are headed out on an all-day quest – a quest to purchase cacao beans, following which we will engage in a private chocolate ceremony in a hot spring near Xela. 

Excitement overflows my heart as Rae and I discuss our strange morning of shaking, cracking, and splashing. 

Left Brain Bumps 

By 8:00 a.m., Keith, Rae and I are walking through the narrow crowded aisles of a large outdoor city market. Over the next several hours, we load up on nuts, fruits and veggies – but our main prize is 477 pounds of cacao beans. 

These city wholesale markets are extremely crowded and chaotic, with people rushing to and fro, pushing assorted carts filled with merchandise or carrying heavy loads on their backs. In the midst of this hustle and bustle, I am momentarily distracted while talking to Rae.  

“Bam!”  

I am knocked slightly backward as something hard and solid crashes into the left corner of my forehead. As my left hand instinctively rushes upward to hold my wound and to check for blood, I glance around to my rear to see what hit me. I catch a glimpse of several men carrying large wooden crates on their shoulders, disappearing hurriedly into the distance behind me. The men are completely oblivious regarding my plight, simply rushing away to sell their wares. 

Seeing no blood on my hand, I look to Rae and Keith for a quick confirmation that no gaping wounds exist anywhere in my skull. Within a minute or two, however, a large and painful swollen bump forms at the sight of impact. 

“Hmmmm,” I giggle out loud as I react pleasantly to the unexpected jolt. “My world is being shaken up yet again – this time on my left forehead. I think the Universe is telling me that it is time to let go of a little more of my logical left-brain focus – to get out of intellect and rational mind – to more fully immerse myself in the wonders of right brain creativity and presence.” 

Quantum Fizz-ics 

By early afternoon, our shopping and errands are complete, and Keith, Rae, and I have made our way to the town of Almolonga, less than half an hour from Xela. I am now quite familiar with this little hot spring hideaway– the same place where Keith and I visited in December when I had an amazing energy experience while meditating in the pool. But I am also quite aware that these same waters were home to very painful and difficult emotionally-intense anger-filled growth in late January. 

My heart tells me that today’s experience will be more gentle, but every bit as profound. 

After drinking a half dose of chocolate, Keith, Rae and I spend our first half hour engaged in intermittent chanting, vocal toning, and silent meditation. Gradually, my solar plexus begins to shake with pain – the same pain that so prominently dominated the earlier portion of my week. 

“Brenda, bring in the light.” Keith begins to coach me. “Allow the light to show you what it would do with this density. Allow the light to do the work for you.” 

“But how do I DO that?” I ask Keith with frustration after trying for a few unsuccessful minutes on my own. 

“Even as I attempt to allow the light to help me, I feel like I am trying to DO something rather than simply allowing.” I exclaim to Keith with emotion. “My rational mind will not let go. Can you please give me some type of visual or metaphor that might help me?” 

“Imagine the density turning into little bubbles.” Keith responds without any delay. “Visualize that the light is carrying the bubbles away for transmutation.” 

I find the new metaphor to be a delightful distraction for rational mind. Gradually, as I allow my mind to pretend that the emotional densities are all transforming into bubbles, I actually begin to feel a very real and distinct powerful physical sensation. I literally feel bubbles forming in my abdomen. The bubbles first move slowly to the base of my spine. Then they gradually float upward, ending in my upper back, right between the shoulder blades. As the bubbles approach the bottom of my neck, they simply vanish. 

The entire process is quite pleasurable, taking me deep into present-moment wonders while I silently observe the continuous and ongoing journey of enchanting tingling energy. 

“Just keep watching and allowing,” Keith coaches me. “Simply immerse yourself in the flow of your own being.” 

After more than thirty magical minutes of bubbling presence, the fizzy wonders begin to migrate into my shoulders, spreading lightness throughout the region. I comment to Keith that I am beginning to feel slight pains in my collar bones. Intuitively, I see these pains themselves as being more emotional density that needs to be transmuted, and I begin to expand the bubble metaphor to include this new area of blockage. Soon I begin to feel bubbles forming in and around my collar bone as well. 

To my delight, after a long, slow, and pleasurable process, the bubbles finally begin to flow up through my neck, giving me the sensation of tingling throughout the center of my head. 

“Can it really be this easy to process emotional densities?” I think while immersing myself into the bubbly joy. 

A part of me loudly cheers, “YES, it can be this easy, and it can be fun too!” 

Another silent part of me grumbles silently in the background, remaining hidden while quietly pouting, “NO, I think it is more powerful when I can cry out my emotions with tears, giving them a proper expression and release. Something as easy and fun as bubbles cannot possibly be as effective as the trauma-drama approach.” 

My journey with this silent pouting partner is buried so deeply that it will not surface for days to come. 

Wave Theory 

After what must be more than an hour of fizzy fancies, the bubbles gradually fizzle into nothingness. My once-painful abdomen is now filled with pleasurable peace. I want nothing more than to simply melt into the water around me while meditating deeper and deeper as Keith begins to work with Rae. 

After a while, I feel another layer of painful density beginning to surface in my abdomen – another round of hurting emotions begging to be released in the fun way. 

“Just let the energies show you what to do.” Keith encourages me again before returning to work with Rae. 

After a period of silent meditation, I begin to feel myself being pulled lightly from side to side. As I breathe, I feel as if I am sitting in a waist-deep pool of ocean water with periodic waves entering the pool, gently pulling me physically back and forth. 

“This is a rare but very real energy experience.” Keith informs me after I describe my unusual sensations. “The universal energies are pulling you back and forth like waves, helping to transmute and to release energy, with the energy currents carrying away energies that are no longer necessary for your path.” 

With Keith’s powerful confirmation and encouragement, I simply allow myself to further surrender to what is happening inside of me. 

Making no conscious attempt to move or to restrict movement, I soon find myself being tossed more intensely from side to side in the pool. Repeatedly, I find it necessary to brace myself to maintain balance as I begin to fall into the wall on my right side or as I bump into Rae’s knee on my left. 

From time to time I open my eyes, just to check if there might really be actual waves in the pool. Each time, to my surprise, the pool waters continue to remain completely calm and flat. 

As I glance downward, I take note that my own abdomen is moving back and forth, not under my conscious control. The real wave-like energies pull my abdomen, continuously knocking me off balance as I surrender further to the sensation of sitting in shallow ocean currents. 

While fully engulfed in the wonder of this new experience, I take note that all of the painful densities that I feel on my body are on my right side, giving me the intuitive sense that the emotions I am releasing are all related to left-brained intellectual blockages. 

Throughout the experience, as bizarre as it seems to rational mind, I can say one thing with absolute rational certainty. I am absolutely NOT causing the wave movements myself. Yes, they are definitely happening through my physical body, but conscious logical mind is definitely not in charge. 

As with the bubbles, my ocean wave experience continues for at least another hour. As the process eventually ends, the second round of painful emotional density has completely vanished. I feel rejuvenated and alive, filled with energy, love, and peace. 

Later that evening, during our long drive back to San Marcos, I joke with Keith about the title of my writing regarding these experiences. The name “Quantum Fizz-ics and Wave Theory” sends giggles through my soul. 

Cuddle Flashbacks 

Later that night, Rae and I rest on the daybed in our living room, discussing our amazing day while sharing cuddle therapy and higher-dimensional energies. Were it not for the fact that I find it physically impossible to sleep while touching another person, I might have dozed off and spent the night simply cuddling and sharing energy with my dear friend.

In the midst of this late-evening rest, I begin to recognize just how deep and powerful my energy sensitivities actually are. Many memories flash into my awareness – awkward memories of occasionally sharing a bed with parents when I was tiny – memories of trying to sleep in a shared bed during my marriage – memories of rarely if ever being able to get any type of restful sleep while immersed in the energy field of another living being (unless, of course, I used some type of sleeping pill.) 

Finally, at 1:00 a.m., after giving up on all attempts to surrender to sleep, I drag myself into my bedroom and quickly drift of to a peaceful dreamland. 

Pushing the River 

Sunday’s ceremony has a great turnout, with twenty-six people crowding the magical porch. Because I am deeply centered and filled with balanced loving energy, Keith puts me to work quickly doing what I love – sharing unconditionally loving heart-energy with others. 

Keith first asks me to go work with a woman over in the corner. I later learn that her name is Lisa. As Lisa goes through a gradual process of quiet emotional release, I simply hold space for her, sending her loving energy through her hands and feet, providing her a safe space in which to do her work. When my time with Lisa is complete, I follow my energy wherever it takes me in the group, moving slowly from one person to another, working with whomever my heart tells me could use a boost of unconditional love and support in their own process. 

While I am working with one beautiful young woman, I note that Rae is beginning to access some deep anger on the other side of the porch. I feel her anger; I understand her anger; I want so deeply to assist her in bringing it to the surface, in helping her to push right through this deep emotional process – yet I am busy helping someone else. 

I watch in quiet frustration as Keith also continues working with someone else. I see him glance in Rae’s direction, being fully aware of her emotion, but also obviously ignoring my dear friend. 

At my first opportunity, I pop over to Rae’s side and begin to pump her full of unconditionally loving energy, verbally encouraging her to let the emotions come up and out. Rae vacillates back and forth, never quite reaching the point to which I desire to push her. Frustration again fills my heart as I watch Keith completely ignore Rae’s bubbling emotion. 

It is only later, in a follow-up conversation with Rae that I realize what I was doing. In my quest to be a healer, I took it upon myself to push Rae into a process – a process to which she was still resistant – a process into which she was not quite ready to venture. Keith was fully aware of everything and followed his own guidance, trusting that everything was exactly as it needed to be, that his job was elsewhere on the porch. I, on the other hand, was impatient and wanted to force a healing. 

Keith often talks about attempting to “push the river” rather than “following the universal flow of the river.” 

By evening I realize that I have a problem with trust – that I deeply want to help others, but that I do not yet fully trust the flow of universal energies – that I am still occasionally trying to push the river rather than follow it. 

Crybaby Complexities 

While Keith is ignoring Rae’s emotional buildup, he busily works with a woman that I will call Debra (not her real name). Over the last couple of weeks I have observed Debra in a few groups. I have been frustrated with myself as I have occasionally felt judgment toward Debra – judgment regarding what I perceive as inappropriate behavior – judgment for what I see as manipulative attempts to use dramatic emotional release to draw Keith’s attention, often interrupting the work of others with her own attention-getting outbursts. 

In group today, Keith seems to be giving Debra what I perceive as an excessive amount of undeserved attention, causing me to further judge and project onto both Keith and Debra. (It is only as I write about this experience, more than five weeks after the fact, that I can clearly see the deep synchronous wisdom in how Keith’s behavior profoundly assisted me in the flow of my own healing river.) 

Imagine my surprise when Keith asks me to leave Rae’s side to come over to help him work with Debra. As I sit behind Debra, holding and supporting her in loving space, I am deeply impressed as I watch Keith guide her into a profound past-life regression experience – a process that brings Debra great clarity and emotional release. Humility swells in my heart as I realize how judgmental I have been – how wrong I was in my feelings and perceptions. 

As the work continues, I begin to immerse myself into my own process – a previously unrecognized process that has already been going on for a week or two. I finally realize that I am deeply judgmental of people whom I perceive to be crybabies. 

“Don’t be a crybaby.” I hear my mother speak in the back of my mind as I picture myself as a young child, desperately attempting to defend myself with an outburst of tears. 

“Being a crybaby is very bad.” I hear another inner voice pipe in. “People should never cry to get sympathy and attention. I will never allow myself to stoop to such low and manipulative behavior.” 

I suddenly recognize the source of my judgments toward Debra. It is my own self-judgment being projected outward. I won’t allow myself to be a crybaby, so I judge others for doing what I myself cannot do. 

I desperately want to be a crybaby when I need to be – to give myself permission to simply let my emotions burst open, even in public – to quit having to be proper and respectful of others – to allow myself to interrupt and to cry when I desperately need to do so, without needing to worry about how those emotions may influence others – to demand the personal attention that I so desperately crave in my own healing journey. 

Yes, a great deal of my intuitive magic was squelched and suppressed during the childhood process in which I was forced to be serious and structured – forced to conform and to obey – scolded and punished for any emotional outburst of protest, for any behavior that labeled me as a crybaby. 

Crybaby Surrender 

As my insights deepen, I realize that it is time for me to fully immerse myself in my own process – to allow myself to feel and to cry when I need to – to follow my own energy that tells me that right now is a time to take care of me. Quietly, I get up from behind Debra and go lay down on a large pillow, sinking into a feeling of sadness, allowing deeply suppressed emotions to bubble from the depths. 

I cry a little and pout a little as I simply curl up in my emotional process. It is not long before Keith is at my side, listening to a tear-filled explanation regarding my new insights. 

“Bring in the light and allow it to take something that will make things easier for you.” Keith lovingly coaches me. 

Again, the concept of trying to do something causes my rational mind to jump in with confused resistance. When I ask Keith for assistance with another metaphor to occupy my mind, he amazes me with another round of inspiration. 

“Lie down in a river of energy.” Keith begins. “With your head upstream, allow the river of energy to sweep by you and through you, taking unneeded parts of your own energy with it.” 

I remain quiet, happy and connected to my heart as I envision the river of energy fully engulfing my body. The meditative experience is peaceful, filling my heart with love and gratitude. 

Yet a part of me is strangely restless, rebellious, and feeling quite annoyed. This part of me – the same part that remained hidden in the hot spring on Saturday – silently demands the satisfaction of a good cry, telling me angrily that Keith is denying me that opportunity. This unexpressed part of me remains totally convinced that pleasant, non-dramatic forms of energy release and transmutation are not functional. 

This buried energy in my soul seems to actually enjoy being a crybaby victim, and is feeling quite pissed off that such an opportunity is being denied. I quietly push that buried and angry energy back down, not yet fully understanding just how strong it is. 

Unexpected Surprise 

Shortly before group ends, Lisa (the same woman I worked with at the beginning of group) comes over to give me a hug, telling me that she has just started the new Moon Course at the pyramids and needs to leave early to go to meditation. 

“Brenda,” Lisa then shocks me with a surprise revelation, “I have been reading your blog for almost a year now. You are the reason that I am here in San Marcos. I was really hoping that I would get to meet you here on Keith’s porch today. I was so happy when Keith sent you over to work on me. I would love to get together some time for lunch and conversation.” 

How cool is that? 

As I walk home on Sunday evening, peaceful and loving energy consumes my soul. After dinner, Rae and I play a fun “spiritual transformation” game that we borrowed from Keith, following which we again engage in our own form of cuddle therapy until midnight. 

Have I said yet how much I love cuddling? 

Bottomless Pit 

At the beginning of group on Monday, I share details with Keith regarding my current insights on crybaby energy, thoughts about being in the flow versus pushing the river, and my ongoing God/Separation drama – also telling him how I continue to find myself projecting anger and blame. 

Almost immediately, Keith puts me right to work, asking me to delve deeper into self-discovery. 

“Brenda,” Keith begins, “hold your hands out in front of you, and imagine that in your right hand you hold your God/separation drama, your victimization, your failures, your need to push and/or control, and your doubts. In the left hand, visualize your true self, being connected to Source, living in the flow of your Higher Self.” 

“Now, take a journey deep into your right hand,” Keith guides me. “Go deep into all of that dysfunction.” 

As I focus on meditation, I feel as if I am climbing down a steep wooden ladder into a very dark, dimly-lit, vertical cavern. While resting briefly on a narrow ledge, I begin to feel a sensation in my stomach, as if I were kicked violently in the gut. Fears begin to consume me as tears stream down my cheeks. Rather than stifling the tears, I allow my emotions to surface. I feel them deeply – to my core. 

After a brief rest, I climb further down my ladder, deeper into the cavern, finding yet another ledge, this one being pitch black with no light whatsoever. Almost immediately, I experience the thought and emotional sensation of my bank accounts being completely empty – of having no financial resources whatsoever. 

“Go down deeper.” Keith guides me. 

“I feel like I am just creating pain and panic by going down here.” I tell Keith. “I know that none of this is real. I know that I am being profoundly guided on my spiritual path and that there is nothing here for me to worry about – that I will be provided for in my journey.” 

“Just trust me.” Keith responds. “We are only exploring the contents of your right hand. Allow yourself to feel all of the pain and the fear. Allow yourself to experience your dysfunctional thoughts and beliefs to the very core.” 

I again visualize myself climbing down yet another ladder, stopping at another ledge. At this spot, I profoundly feel as if I have just lost all of the love and respect of both family and friends. I am now homeless, penniless, and am a huge burden to everyone I love. 

“I feel as if I am finally at the bottom of my pit now.” I tell Keith. 

“Go down another level.” Keith insists. “Rip up the floorboards, open a trap door, or do something else, but find a way to go down even deeper.” 

After a brief search of the pitch black cave, my intuitions finally locate another ladder. As I begin to again step downward, a powerful sensation sends chills through my spine, whispering “There is no bottom where you are going – you will never get out of this dark and cold bottomless pit” 

Diving Deeper 

Suddenly the ladder disappears and I feel as if I am scuba diving in the famous blue hole off the coast of Belize. I am already 150 feet below the surface, dropping in the dark waters like a rock, being completely out of air with no hope of ever returning to the sunlight above. Again, I experience the strong physical sensation of being painfully kicked in the gut. 

Eventually, as I drift deeper and deeper, I feel as if I have arrived at some type of bottom. To my utter surprise, I momentarily experience a very peaceful sensation. 

“Am I scamming myself?” I ponder quietly. “How can I be so peaceful in such a hopeless scenario?” 

But the feeling of peace is short lived as I quickly sink into fear. Reality as I know it seems to disappear around me as I begin to deeply ponder my existence, who I am, and what I am. 

“I know this is all a lie.” I exclaim to Keith as I attempt to verbalize my meditative journey. “I know none of this is true – that this is only a dramatization of the fears that follow me around in the shadows.” 

“Brenda, we are not searching for the truth here,” Keith reminds me with love. “Your true connection with source is represented by your left hand. Right now, we are following the dysfunction in your right hand, going all the way to the very bottom.” 

“Now find another way to go even deeper.” Keith guides me yet again. 

To my surprise, a stone staircase opens up nearby. The dark stone walls spiral down in front of me, disappearing around the next bend. Periodic candles placed in small alcoves provide just enough glow for me to see the next few steps. 

As I continue downward into the depths below, I eventually reach a state where my feet can step no further. I suddenly feel as if I am suspended in nothingness, simply floating, suspended in mid air with no hope of ever leaving what now feels like a hopeless graveyard. 

Intense anger begins to course through my veins. I am angry at God for allowing me to go all the way to the bottom of this ruinous path of self-destruction without rescuing me, seemingly guiding me deeper and deeper while leaving me penniless, friendless, bookless, and Godless. I am a total failure, being deeply angry that God did not guide me into the blessings that I know were supposed to be mine. 

Bulging Unbearable Pain 

As I visualize myself floating in nothingness, I notice that my abdomen is again extremely painful. But the pain is not just a part of my meditation; it is a real physical sensation. My entire belly is bloated and swollen, ranging from the pubic bone all the way to the base of my rib cage. The swelling and tightness are so painful and intense that I can hardly breathe without crying.

“Please help me Keith.” I fearfully beg. “I am not sure if I can handle this much bloating and pain. I don’t know what to do.” 

“Now that you are at the bottom of your journey,” Keith casually responds, “having recognized your fears and anger towards God, it is time to bring in the light to help you transmute these dense energies.” 

For several minutes I struggle in vain while asking the light to help me. I attempt many different meditation techniques, many of which have worked for me in the past, but nothing seems to bring relief. As usual, these energies cannot be manipulated using formulas. 

Then, remembering my “Quantum Fizz-ics and Wave Theory” experiences in Xela, I attempt to visualize the painful density transforming into tiny fizzy bubbles. When that technique also fails miserably, I attempt to imagine ocean waves pulsing through my body, carrying away the painful emotions. Again, I come up empty, simply encountering an energetic dead end. Nothing I do seems to bring any relief from the intense physical pain. 

“Burst open some windows in your abdomen.” Keith coaches me with more confusing words. “Ask the light to help you and then simply watch it help.” 

Trusting Keith’s advice implicitly, I give my efforts another valiant try. Between random outbursts of intense and agonizing tears, I continue to focus on joyfully bringing in the light, visualizing the light passing through hundreds of imaginary windows – windows that are now wide open. 

The process takes nearly thirty minutes, but the pain and swelling gradually dissolve, slowly disappearing into nothingness. As I finally allow myself to again lie down on a large pillow, my tummy is pain-free and totally relaxed. 

I find it difficult, if not impossible, to explain what has just occurred. Rational mind is clueless as to what just happened, but I intuitively recognize that I have experienced the results of a few of my worst nightmares – physically experiencing the deep emotions, the fears, and the anxieties – then allowing those panic-filled emotions to be lovingly transmuted and carried away by the light. 

Light versus Tears 

As I enter the final week of February, I find myself waffling between two seeming truths. Over the past several days I have experienced my share of tears, but I have also begun to more profoundly understand the possibilities surrounding the transmutation of emotional densities using fun and imaginative energy journeys into the light. 

I know that the emotional densities I continue to carry around with me are my most profound teachers. I believe that I chose my own difficult journey prior to being born into this lifetime – that I and my Higher Self designed this growth path as part of my educational process – an intense healing process that could not possibly be learned simply by reading a book. 

I also believe with all of my heart that the healing process cannot be short-circuited – that I must feel and understand every growth lesson before the underlying energies can be transmuted by the light. 

In the past decade, I have experienced profound and powerful healing through the process of emotional release, most of which has been greatly facilitated through various experiential processes involving tearful emotional expression. 

I deeply trust these powerful methods of emotional catharsis and healing – of releasing and healing emotion by re-experiencing the pain of a past journey – doing so in the here and now, and then energetically remolding those past experiences using the magic of a present-day unconditionally-loving perspective. By doing so, I have literally changed my perceptions of the past, magically pulling that healing forward into my present day life. 

But in the unfolding of my past healing journey, I have locked myself into the belief system dictating that in order for the healing to be effective, a great deal of tears must first be shed. 

Keith has helped me to have a magical taste of releasing painful emotions (after having felt them) through the use of higher energies. I will never forget the sensation of feeling fizzy little bubbles trickle delightfully up my spine. I will always remember how it felt to be physically moved by imaginary ocean waves while emotional densities magically disappeared into the receding waves. And how could I ever deny the feeling of being bloated and swollen with intense pain, only to have that pain gradually dissolve away in the light as I simply opened the windows and sunbathed in loving energies. 

As Monday, February 21, trickles away into the history books I am still slightly confused. With all of my heart I know and understand the healing power of tearful release, but I have now been given profound examples of doing the same without tears. Yes, I still had to personally and deeply feel the pain, but tears were not necessary to release it. 

Part of me still wants to pout – continuing to insist that tears are the faster, more powerful, more satisfying way to purge the dense emotions. 

Nevertheless, my new adventures into Quantum Fizz-ics and Wave Theory force me to keep a curious and open mind – to continue delving deeper into the wonders of right-brain connections to my Source. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

The Burly Bodyguard

March 20th, 2011

The energy still vibrates powerfully. It is now Tuesday morning, February 15, nearly eighteen hours after an amazing heart-opening experience. The feeling of magical light in my heart continues to dazzle my imagination, giving me the sensation of living in a mystical energy playground. I begin to wonder just how long I might be able to sustain this new heart magic – an unconditionally-loving Valentines Day gift from the universe. 

It is my day off from Keith’s porch – a day in which I would normally want to write – but I want nothing more than to simply enjoy the flowing energy. After a delightful morning conversation, Rae and I break from tradition and head out to a local restaurant for breakfast. As an unexpected synchronicity, Avril soon joins us. 

“Wow Brenda.” Avril exclaims from six feet away. “I can feel your heart energy vibrating clear over here.” 

Rae nods with agreement, as she too acknowledges that she can clearly feel the energy that continues to flow through my heart. I simply focus on the beautiful energy – feeling as if I am breathing it in through every pore in my body and then radiating it out as pure unconditional love. 

Park Bench Playfulness 

“I want to sit on a park bench and simply watch the world float by.” I tell Rae as I think of stories told by Eckhart Tolle, one of my favorite authors. “I want to enjoy this amazing energy for as long as it lasts.” 

“I know just the place.” Rae responds. 

Soon Rae, Avril and I are giggling at the top of a nearby hill – a hill that I have rarely visited since the completion of my Sun Course. To my shock and surprise, all of the thick brush has been cleared away and two modern park benches have been erected right in the very same spot where I many times meditated in complete isolation amidst thick underbrush – the exact same spot where I first began to experience powerful awakening energies in my second and third chakras. 

As the three of us banter in playful silliness while basking in the morning sun and gorgeous views, I spot a young man in the distance. Our visitor begins to turn away when he notices that the benches are occupied. Avril joyfully calls out and invites him to join us. 

Following the Energy 

Seconds later, we are all engaged in silly conversation with this handsome, thirty-something young man. Avril and Rae seem to playfully tease him relentlessly, keeping the conversation at a safe surface level. For some reason, my heart draws me to engage Peter at a deeper level of discussion. Soon the two of us are discussing our respective spiritual paths. Within a few minutes, Rae and Avril disperse to do their own silent connection with nature while Peter and I discuss synchronicities, issues of following our hearts, and my favorite topic – that of a special magical porch in San Marcos. 

I cannot explain why, but the peaceful vibration in my heart tells me that this conversation is important. For more than an hour, Peter and I sit and share stories. His energy is very intriguing. A whispering Jedi voice tells me that we are two old souls who knew each other in another dimension. 

I am deeply curious to see where this chance meeting might lead. 

Chaotic Confusion 

By mid-afternoon, after nearly 24 hours of basking in my newfound heart magic, I again find myself at home, attempting to begin tapping away on my tiny laptop. 

Minutes later, Avril stops by for another visit. She and Rae begin to chatter while I try to ignore them both, determined to get back into the swing of my writing. Soon, another new friend, I’ll call her Kathy, drops by. For reasons not-yet understood, my energy spikes into a mode of anxiety and near panic attack. I soon isolate myself in my bedroom, desperately wanting to peacefully type while my friends visit in the living room. But with every sound that I overhear, I feel as if a huge wave of dense energy is shaking me at my very core – as if the sounds themselves are attacking my heart. While everyone in the living room simply engages in animated conversation, confusion and chaos overwhelm my soul. 

As my heart magic fades away, the glowing love is quickly replaced by a painful churning in my solar plexus, directly above my belly button. All attempts at writing fade into nothingness as the onslaught of confusing waves of dense energy consume my peace.

Minutes later, having given up on writing, I attempt to rejoin the bustling energy in the living room, but my tummy is so painful that I cannot concentrate or participate in the discussions. I have gone from bliss to pain in a matter of minutes. I am soon in a mode of total shutdown. 

To make a long story short, the next hour feels like a lifetime of energetic chaos. As I describe my pain, no one seems to believe what I intuitively know to be true – that the pain is merely emotional density demanding my love and attention. I somehow survive the continued waves of anxiety – waves that subside considerably when my houseguests depart.

Writing Wars 

As Rae and I finally have a quiet evening to talk, I burst into tears, attempting to process through my emotional war zone with the help of her loving assistance. 

I misread the onslaught of chaotic energies and interpret it as merely frustration regarding my writing. Yes, I am in deep conflict over my writing, returning to the same dilemmas that I faced last November, namely “Do I write or do I more fully immerse myself in the growth experiences?” I desperately want to do both, but recognize that this is simply not possible. 

I want to have more time to play and to be social and I desperately want to feel less internal pressure to remain current with my writing – yet I absolutely know that I must write. 

Anger swells in my soul. That anger is again directed at God. I am angry at the internal guidance that tells me I must write. I feel rebellious, wanting to just grow and play. Writing is once again beginning to feel like work. I am resentful that my heart continues to push me forward, not letting me slow down or stop to rest along the way. 

I feel trapped, once again struggling with my God Drama – the drama of blaming God for the situation in which I have placed myself. Deep down I recognize that I am responsible for creating the insane pressure and guilt – that I am the one turning my writing into a resented chore. 

After releasing the pressure through a flood of tears, I make an internal peace treaty with my heart. 

First, I will continue to fully immerse myself in the intense non-stop growth process, taking detailed notes throughout the hurricane-like journey. Second, I will continue to write, but I will be gentle and loving with myself, giving myself time to heal and to integrate my growth between writing sessions. If I get a month or two behind, I can always catch up in April when Keith ends his daily classes.  

Thou Shalt Not 

On Wednesday morning, February 16, as I attempt to take notes regarding Tuesday’s emotional journey, I again experience the same deep painful agitation in my solar plexus, accompanied by the identical chaotic anxiety energies. That pain had completely disappeared during the night, and had only resurfaced as I attempted to document the emotions. 

The “old me” would have written this all off as an intermittent tummy ache or as a volatile case of parasites, but I know with all of my heart that my subconscious is beginning to communicate with me in powerful physical metaphors. 

As I begin to sink into a feeling of helplessness regarding the intensity of the confusing pain, an intuitive tickle causes me to meditate – to ask my Higher Self for guidance on what is really happening with the pains inside of my body. 

Almost immediately the intuitions begin to flow freely. First, the pain clearly tells me its name. It is the name of one of my extended family members – a name that reminds me deeply of religious patriarchy and authority. For the sake of family privacy in this writing, I will simply call this pain ‘Frank’ (not the real name of my relative). Second, I intuitively know that the pain is related to all of the “Thou shalt not” feelings that have suppressed me through my life, with the most prominent of those being sexual repression – an issue that continues to taunt and to haunt me through relationship dysfunction and fears. 

For nearly a year I have been gently releasing deeply rooted resistance to the possibilities of a relationship. In the middle of my meditation today, I now realize that the time has arrived for me to swallow my pride and fears. It is time to address the deeper core issues in a head on manner. 

As I further ponder the intense panic-filled energies that swarm around me in my attempt to write, I remember how these same energies have overwhelmed me in the past. Escaping to a movie theatre has always been my favorite antidote of choice – but today I will do something else. I will plop myself down in the middle of Keith’s magical porch, asking for help in exploring a very embarrassing issue. 

Yes, my newfound heart magic is giving me just the courage I need to face this intense emotional discomfort without fleeing in avoidance. I am tired of running away from the emotional chaos. I will stand and face these trembling energies with nurturing love. 

Astral Rascal 

At the start of afternoon group, as I begin to focus on my own processing, Keith grabs my attention and asks if I will work with a woman seated on the ground next to his green camping chair. I am clueless as to the nature of her tearful panic-filled outburst. 

“Keith,” I ask quietly, “I’m concerned that the strong pain in my solar plexus is energetically affecting her, making her emotions more intense? Are you sure it is OK for me to be working with her even when I am going through my own deep release process?” 

After Keith reassures me that everything will be OK, and that he does want me to work with this woman, I simply focus on holding her hands, anchoring in a powerful energy of unconditional love and radiating that energy in her direction. 

The woman’s agitation and panic seems to grow even stronger as I send her more love. 

A minute later, Keith focuses his attention directly onto the woman with whom I am working.

“How long has this being been with you?” Keith asks the woman abruptly, literally shocking me with his question. 

For the next thirty minutes Keith lovingly works with this woman, guiding her through a safe and loving procedure of her releasing the unwanted astral rascal that is sharing her body. Throughout the process, I continue to grasp this beautiful woman’s hands while holding a loving energetic space for her. I am deeply connected to this woman’s energy. I can see and feel the ongoing panic in her eyes, and I can intuitively sense the intense emotions through which she is passing. 

Yet I feel quite small and helpless as I watch the process. I am envious of Keith’s deep connection to the energies, and I begin to wonder if I will ever begin to sense that type of deeper guidance flowing directly through me. But even though the unfolding events seem beyond my present intuitive grasp, there is no doubt in my mind that they are real. For the second chocolate ceremony in a row, I am participating in a process that I simply cannot deny. 

Sovereign Beings  

Weeks later, as I discuss the possibility of briefly writing about this experience, Keith gives me permission but asks me to make a few points extremely clear in my words. 

Each of us is a sovereign being, in full control of our body and our reality – everything that happens to us is either something that we explicitly create or something that we allow to happen. No such outside force has either the power or the capacity to occupy our space without our implicit agreement. 

There is always a “payoff” to allowing an other-dimensional being to share our field. We are not a victim of such a being, nor are we at its mercy. It is personal choice as to whether one wants to keep the payoff or have the being leave. It helps if we can make this choice from a place of love. Without a deep readjustment in beliefs, agendas, and payoffs, a removed companion or a replacement would likely be back within a few days. 

Keith’s role in situations like these is to help the person recognize what they are doing and why, to empower them to take responsibility for their choices, and to present them with options. 

Not About Fixing 

After participating in the first half of this amazing Wednesday afternoon ceremony, my own second and third chakras continue to be extremely agitated. Somehow I found the stamina and love to assist others but my capacity to do so is running on empty. I am slightly confused why all of the loving energy that I have been channeling through my body does not seem to transmute the painful density that is still running rampant in my tummy. 

“Keith, I need your help.” I beg as group begins to shift in a new direction. “I cannot do this by myself. I am feeling quite nervous and helpless.” 

“It is not about fixing it.” Keith soon responds. “Simply invite the light to join you in your abdomen and show you what you need to know about the next step of your process.” 

A deep intuition resonates in my soul, confirming that this entire energy ‘freak-out’ is based on my desire to fix the unpleasant pain. The lesson is teaching me to simply shine love and to allow things to be exactly as they are – to recognize that they are happening for a reason, and that the reason will unfold and teach me over time. My job is simply to love, accept, connect, feel, and observe – doing so without attempting to fix or to judge the situation as wrong or bad. 

I visualize the energy earthquake in my abdomen as being a frightened and scared puppy. In quiet meditation, I sit down with the puppy and ask it to teach me. 

Sexual Abuse 

“Keith, I feel as if I was sexually abused by my religion.” I suddenly blurt out. 

“Don’t get me wrong,” I continue, “absolutely nothing ever happened to me in a physical way – but I do feel as if I was deeply abused in an energetic and emotional way.” 

As I make these bizarre statements, my mind is overflowing with the feelings of religious guilt and shame that dominated my youth. I begin to deeply contemplate how the judgmental beliefs of my childhood literally traumatized me during periods of deeply emotional gender struggle. 

“This morning, during my meditation,” I continue telling Keith, “I suddenly recognized that this painful density is named ‘Frank’, that it deals with religious patriarchal domination, and that it is shaped and feels like a prickly pear cactus that is poking me on the inside of my abdomen – to get my attention – to get my focus.” 

Keith congratulates me for discovering another piece of my healing puzzle. I am excited to further explore the subconscious metaphor. But that will have to wait for a future group, as our time has run out. For now, my abdominal pain has settled, but something tells me it will be back. 

Budding Friendship 

That evening after group, I share a delicious pizza with my new friend Peter – the same young man who I met yesterday – the same spiritual seeker who I had invited to join me on Keith’s magical porch. 

Peter and I enjoy a long and delightful conversation, discussing today’s eventful afternoon following which I feel guided to share considerable details of my own life journey. I find it quite interesting that the Universe is beginning to flood my life with friends of the male gender at a time when I am fully immersed in attempting to re-integrate deep and long-held rejection of male energy in my life. There is no doubt in my mind that a higher influence is guiding my path. 

I love having a thirty-two year-old young man as a beautiful friend – a friendship that has developed in deeply synchronous ways.

Sexual Repression 

Thursday turns into an unusual day off. Keith is involved in a private ceremony across the lake, and I crave the opportunity to spend another day pursuing my writing. 

But as I attempt to write, my emotions are still too raw. I simply lay on the daybed, moping and depressed. Too many repressed feelings stir in my consciousness, making concentration and focus next to impossible. Rae soon puts on some music and begins to dance around the living room, inviting me to join her. 

As I drag myself off the daybed and begin to dance, I am surprised to notice a sense of repressed sexuality surfacing in my body movements. Almost simultaneously, deep anger surges in my soul – anger at how such feelings and expression had been so energetically suppressed during my tender years – a self-imposed suppression that continues to this very day. The words satanic and evil come to mind. 

As Rae strolls down to the lake to spend some alone time, I continue to explore the bubbling emotions that are swirling around inside of me. For several hours I dance, I listen to music, and I meditate. The deep emotions continue to surge like rising and violent tides. I simply allow the currents to ebb and flow, determined to allow the buried pain to find its way to the surface of my churning emotional waters. 

Open Minds 

Later that afternoon, Rae returns with the woman I’m calling Kathy – a woman who has previously confided to Rae and I about her open sexual lifestyle. I finally begin to put the dots together. The first time I felt this intense abdominal pain was when Kathy walked in to my living room on Tuesday. The pain is related to repressed sexuality, and Kathy represents to me the exact opposite of repression in the sexual area. 

Prior to today, I have felt extremely uneasy around Kathy, even projecting slight judgments in her direction. But now, I opt to share my life story and to engage her in a full-on discussion about my own present struggles in healing from perceived past sexual repression.  

At the end of the conversation, my self-imposed frustration continues. I begin to realize that the most obvious way to push through issues of sexual repression would be to have open and uninhibited sexual experience – but the idea is not appealing to my heart. I have absolutely no desire to simply sleep around, and there are no prospective men in my life. I know that physical intimacy without a deeper connection is simply something in which I am not interested – yet part of me desperately craves a safe way to explore at this level of intimacy with a man. It has been nearly ten years since I have even been held by a man. 

“I wish there was a way to simply do some type of cuddle therapy.” I later comment to Rae with a smile on my face. “I would love to simply experience what it feels like to be held and to just share energy with a man – the type that you and I share with each other.” 

To my surprise, Rae pulls a card out of her bag and shows it to me. It is the card of a “cuddle therapist” that she recently met in California. I just giggle and smile at the synchronous coincidence. 

Energy Cuddles 

For a week or two, Rae and I have gotten into the habit of enjoying spiritual healing conversations with each other while resting together on the daybed in the living room, lightly touching an arm, a foot, our backs, etc… We often perform a little Reiki on each other. Other times, we simply rest and allow the energy to trickle through whatever part of our bodies might be touching. Through this process, I have developed a great appreciation for the amazing power of human touch.  

For us, this has become our own unique form of beautiful cuddle therapy – one that has been quite powerful – one that has taught me that if I ever do get into a relationship, that cuddling at an energetic level is an absolute requirement, something I deeply crave. 

Lucid Letdowns 

Overactive energy again churns in my tummy as I awaken and squint at the clock. It is 2:30 a.m. on Friday morning. I am beginning to wonder if this painful abdomen will be my lifelong companion – yet I continue to trust that I am simply in the midst of a powerful subconscious process that is gradually unfolding. 

After what feels like hours of simply surrendering and observing the painful grumbling rumbling of my solar plexus, I finally doze off again. To my surprise I experience my first lucid dream in a very long time. 

I find myself in Utah, at the home of an acquaintance. I was invited to a spiritual gathering that was promised to include dinner, but I soon learn that my only nourishment for the evening will be two tiny dessert tarts. I head into the kitchen to get some water. As I fill a glass from the tap, I suddenly catch myself. 

“We’re in Utah, right?” I ask a nearby person. “It’s OK to drink this water, right?” 

Soon, I seamlessly find myself at a local ATM, pulling out some much needed cash. To my surprise, the money that pops out of the machine is Guatemalan Quetzales. 

“Wait, this must be a dream!” I exclaim to myself with excitement, barely managing to remain partially asleep in the dream. For five minutes, I play around, doing a little flying and exploring in my dream – but I gradually become too conscious to do anything but open my eyes and ponder what just happened. 

“Hmmm,” I think to myself as I attempt to analyze the dream. “I was invited to a spiritual gathering where I was also supposed be given physical nourishment – yet the only thing I got in a physical way was what feels like broken promises and a couple of tiny unfulfilling treats.” 

My God drama again comes to mind – blaming God and my spirituality for the lack of physical gratification – for the sexual suppression that continues to find me going without a cuddling/romantic relationship in this lifetime. 

Just a year ago, romance was the last thing I wanted. Now, I deeply believe that an opportunity to safely share intimate cuddling energy with a partner would be a powerful way to further my healing journey. 

Universal Setup 

For several months, Keith and I have both been working on getting a joint friend of ours to schedule a session. As fate would have it, she was scheduled to meet with Keith at 9:00 a.m. on Friday morning, and I had been invited to participate. 

As I wander out in the direction of Keith’s energy playground, I bump into my friend – only she is heading in the opposite direction.

“Brenda,” she begins apologetically, “I have cancelled my appointment because I have a bad cold. I’m so glad we bumped into each other so that you won’t need to walk all the way out to Keith’s. 

My heart giggles as I recognize another synchronous storyline unfolding. I desperately need my own private time with Keith and I realize that the Universe has just set me up with that opportunity. I continue walking forward in the direction of Keith’s magical porch. 

Burly Bodyguard 

“Close your eyes and walk down into your tummy.” Keith guides me in meditation. 

While I still do not visualize well, I have a powerful intuitive sense of my surroundings. I am in a very dark cave. There is no way in our out. I am in an absolutely dark place with no windows or doors. The rock walls are moist, cold, and rough. The uneven floor is covered with an eerie layer of human bones.  

As I stand motionless in this dark, lifeless room, I feel as if I am going crazy. My heart beats rapidly as familiar feelings of panic and anxiety begin to consume my soul. My solar plexus vibrates wildly with a feeling of shaking terror. 

“Create a trap door in the floor.” Keith guides me. 

Anxious to find a way out of my frightening place, I quickly visualize a small trap door below me. Somehow, a light must have turned on somewhere in the cave-like room, because I see that the ground is a reddish-brown color. 

After descending through the trap door and down a ladder, I find myself in an alley. 

“Find a doorway and walk through it.” Keith guides me. 

I look around and find a door, but as I begin to walk toward it, a large burly bodyguard steps out of the darkness and stands in my way, refusing to let me pass. 

“I don’t know what to do.” I tell Keith with a feeling of puzzlement. “I intuitively know that the bodyguard will simply not let me enter this area of my subconscious. It is forbidden to me.” 

“Can the bodyguard go inside the door?” Keith asks me what at first feels like a strange question. 

“Yes, I think so.” I respond after meditating briefly. 

“That is what I’m getting too.” Keith replies. “Why don’t you ask the bodyguard to go inside and bring something back outside for you.” 

Embarrassing Revelations 

It is with great hesitance that I resume sharing again with Keith. A sense of embarrassment surges through my soul as I contemplate whether or not I am capable of talking about what the bodyguard just brought me. 

“I am all in.” I silently tell myself, determined to heal this part of my life so that I can finally be free of the subconscious dysfunction that still plagues my waking life. 

“The bodyguard just brought me a couple of Kotex pads.” I shyly relate to Keith, part of me wanting to just run away and be done with this process. 

I then proceed to share a story that happened at age eleven. I was a very shy boy, playing after school in my elementary school playground. Suddenly, several of the popular boys ran out of the school and called for me to follow them to the far corner of the softball field.  

As I watched curiously, they inserted firecrackers into what looked like large first-aide pads, and then proceeded to blow them up. 

“What are those?” I asked naively. 

“They are Kotex pads from the girls’ bathroom.” One of the boys responded while laughing at me. 

To make a long story short, I later snuck into the girls’ bathroom to buy a few pads for myself. I had no idea what they were, but I had to find out. Shame and feelings of being evil swarmed through my soul as I brought those curious treasures home to examine in secrecy. I was terrified that someone would find out – that I would be deeply punished if anyone ever knew. 

Heart Fantasies 

“Ask the bodyguard to go back in and to bring something else back outside.” Keith again guides me. 

As I do so, another series of memories soon surface in my subconscious mind – painful and deeply embarrassing memories that I have never before shared with a living soul on this earth. 

I hesitate to go on sharing, but soon swallow my pride as I delve into my second embarrassing story of the morning. I am determined to face my fears and to find the answer to transmuting these dense energetic memories. 

“A whole series of flashbacks just flooded my mind.” I tell Keith. “I was reminded about how I used to fantasize about being a woman – but the fantasies were always very perverted and evil.” 

“I used to imagine myself as a beautiful woman whose body was exploited.” I continued to explain. “I envisioned myself as being kidnapped by evil perverted men, then being kept as a sex slave or being forced to model for pornography, etc…” 

As I ponder the embarrassing revelations that just splattered out of my mouth, another set of powerful healing insights unexpectedly floods through my consciousness – thoughts that had never before crossed my mind. 

“My heart desperately craved the opportunity to experience life as a woman,” I explain to Keith while light bulbs begin to simultaneously flash in my head, “but I found it impossible to envision any possible way to ever experience normal healthy sexuality as a woman. I was so religiously shut down in the sexual arena, that even entertaining my heart’s deepest desires to be female felt like an evil satanic perversion.” 

“Yes, at the tender young age of eleven,” I continue pouring my heart out to Keith, “sexuality felt so intensely evil that the only way I could imagine exploring sexuality as a female, without being sinful, would be if it were forced on me against my will – to be used as a sex object by others. That way I would not be committing a sin. Any type of voluntary sexual expression was unthinkable, evil, a sure ticket to Hell.”  

“I absolutely knew that if my heart’s fantasies were to ever come true, I could never experience a normal life as a woman.” 

Fearful Explorations 

“You are having a deep fear come up.” Keith tells me matter-of-factly. “It is something that you want to know, but something that you are afraid to know.” 

It takes me a few minutes to muster the courage to continue, but I finally tell Keith just what the fear is about. 

“Ever since my teen years,” I hesitatingly begin, “I have worried and wondered if my deeply rooted gender identity issues were what caused my sexual confusions, or if it might have been the other way around – that maybe my sexual confusions caused me to engage in weird fantasies that caused me to become gender confused as well.” 

“Let’s explore that issue.” Keith reassures me. “Go back to the bodyguard and ask him to bring something else back through the doorway. 

Bathtub Tears 

Almost immediately, another long-forgotten memory floods into my consciousness. 

“I was in the bathtub with my sister.” I begin to share with Keith. “I could not have been over three or four years old, so she must have been about five or six.” 

I don’t know why, but I was mad, throwing a little bit of a tantrum. My sister and I were sitting face to face in the tub. I reached out with the bottom of my foot to try to lightly kick her, but in the process I accidentally hit her quite hard with my heel, right in the center of her crotch. As my sister began to scream with pain, my mother came running into the bathroom to see what was happening. 

“You can’t kick her there.” My mother angrily scolded me. “She is a girl and it really hurts.” 

I remember feeling horrible for what I had done, but I also remember feeling extremely confused about the boy/girl thing. I felt quite devastated that she was a girl and that I was not. At that tender young age, I had never paid any attention to genitals, and that was the last time I ever shared a bathtub with my sister. That little thing between my legs really confused me. I didn’t know what it was for, or why I was different. I accepted the fact that I was told that I was a boy – it was a physical fact that I seemed incapable of disputing – but from that age onward I was always very confused and curious while being kept completely in the dark. 

Faded Memories 

“Brenda,” Keith reassures me, “I am getting strong guidance that your gender struggles were already in full swing during that bathtub scene. Everything you say and everything I feel energetically points to the fact that your struggles started much earlier than age ten.” 

I explain to Keith that when I look at my first and second grade photos, I recognize a very sad little boy – a little boy who I know felt very awkward, insecure, and even ugly – but I have no memory regarding the origin of those feelings – I have absolutely no evidence to back up the feelings that are surfacing in my heart. 

As Keith again reassures me that my gender issues started at a very young age, I do have to admit that I went through my entire childhood as a people pleaser, desperately trying to win the love and approval of my parents by playing the role of a perfect little boy – but again, I have no clear memory of wishing I were a girl other than the fact that I loved doing girl things with my sister, and I loved helping my mother with the cooking and sewing.  But I also loved many rough and tumble boy things too, including riding bicycles and playing baseball. 

From age six or seven onward, however, I do have many quite clear traumatic memories in which I was deeply curious and confused about body issues – mostly dealing with curiosity about the weird appendage between my legs and my inability to talk about it with anyone. 

I again share another embarrassing story with Keith – a story which must have taken place when I was about ten years old. My oldest sister was a senior in high school, and was dancing around the living room. 

“Come and slow dance with me.” My sister innocently asked me. 

As I got close to her and held her in dance position, I cowered and blurted out in a very embarrassed manner, “But I don’t want to get you pregnant.” 

The only thing I knew was that if boys and girls slept together, then the girl might get pregnant. It only made logical sense that if they stood up together, side by side, the same thing might happen. 

I was horrified and humiliated when my sister screamed out to my mother, “You need to teach him about the birds and the bees.” 

Sexually Neglected 

Keith is very firm in what he tells me next. First he re-emphasizes that I do have the ability to read energy, and that as a young child I picked up on energetic emotions and shame-filled judgments of others even when they were not verbally spoken. Then Keith reassures me that the majority of my magic was shut down prior to the ages in which I would be able to remember ever having had that magic. 

“For instance,” Keith tells me, “your mother may not have verbally said a great deal to you when you kicked your sister in the bathtub, but you picked up a huge amount of judgment, shame, and guilt from her as you absorbed the underlying energy of her behavior, her beliefs, and her religious background. You would have energetically understood the shame-filled gender/sexuality messages even if they were not verbally expressed.” 

“Brenda,” Keith emphasizes strongly, “You were given absolutely no sexual education or guidance during your formative years. You had no one to talk to about your confusing curiosities and struggles. You were not provided with any information and did not feel safe in asking questions. You energetically read the judgmental religious energy of your surroundings, and you were overwhelmingly filled with shame about your unexpressed sexual feelings and curiosities.” 

“There may have been nothing physical,” Keith goes on, “but nevertheless, as a child you were deeply abused in the sexual arena – abused by neglect, misinformation, non-information, and shame-based energies at every turn.” 

I want to say “No, that did not happen.” 

In my heart, however, everything that Keith tells me rings deeply true. 

Tearless Gratitude 

As my Friday morning private session with Keith reaches conclusion, I am filled with deep gratitude – gratitude for having been gifted the amazing opportunity to explore painful and fear-filled childhood memories in a safe way – gratitude for the deep intuitive confirmation and realization that my gender struggles did indeed begin at a much earlier age – and gratitude for the profound meditation experience in which I had personally experienced my subconscious mind (the burly bodyguard) dishing up real memories that provided great clarity to many childhood struggles. 

But one thing that did not happen in the morning is that there was no opportunity for actual emotional release. 

Tears of Release 

Early during the Friday afternoon public chocolate ceremony, my emotional tears begin to flow. As the tears quickly intensify, I intuitively recognize them as deep tears from childhood, deep sorrow for the emotional pain of that little boy. As I sob intensely, I often hit gut-wrenching, belly-shaking sobs – sobs reinforced by the sensation of re-experiencing the hopeless and confusing emotions of that frightened and confused little me. 

The tears flow in waves, sometimes subsiding briefly only to re-intensify in another powerful surge. Twice, Keith wanders over to my seat and gently touches my back with the palm of his hand. Both times, the waves of tear-filled emotion again surge with unexpected intensity, as if Keith is magically causing the emotional release to step up another level. 

After what must be at least a full hour of strong emotional release, the tears begin to fade and my breathing slowly returns to a normal rhythm. 

Headache Energy 

“I now have another small focused headache centered right over my third-eye chakra.” I tell Keith with confusion. 

Keith tells me that the energy in my second chakra is somehow connected to my third eye, and that the pain in my forehead is energy that wants to be allowed back into my third-eye chakra.  

“Allow the energy to flow back in.” Keith coaches me. 

“I don’t know how to allow it.” I respond in frustration after having tried for several minutes. “My head keeps getting in the way, telling me that there is something that I need to do in order to allow, and then it turns into a rational mind game.” 

“Can you give me some type of metaphor to help guide me, and to keep my rational mind busy?” I ask hopefully. 

“Imagine a cracked egg yoke sitting on your forehead.” Keith begins. “Then gradually imagine the yoke flowing down tiny little paths through which it leaks slowly into your head.” 

I love this new metaphor. It keeps my mind occupied while I soon begin to experience the amazing feeling of energy flowing slowly into the center of my head. Simultaneously, I feel an immediate calming energy in my second chakra as well. 

For the next few hours, I give myself permission to simply lie on a pillow, playing with the energies while the rest of group continues around me. What happens is quite amazing. At times I feel my third-eye chakra close up. When it does, my headache returns and my second chakra again begins to feel painful. As I re-engage the egg yoke metaphor, I again feel the third-eye energy begin to flow, at which point the headache disappears and my sacral chakra again returns to a feeling of peaceful vibration. 

As the chocolate ceremony eventually comes to a close, there is no doubt in my mind that both my headache and my abdominal pains are energetically related – and they stem from emotional densities, not physical causes. 

An Ongoing Process 

As I walk home on Friday evening, another intuition has quite clearly imprinted itself in my heart. 

“You have made amazing process in following the unfolding flow of your process.” The Jedi voices whisper. “But you are nowhere near the end of the process. You have only just begun.” 

I nervously, but eagerly look forward to discovering where the flow of my own soul takes me next. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Heart Magic

March 9th, 2011

As I sit on my favorite magical porch, waiting for a Thursday afternoon chocolate session to begin, a strong feeling of annoyance begins to permeate my soul. 

“We just seem to be starting later and later all the time.” I ponder to myself while feeling a tad self-righteous. 

As group finally does begin, my frustration shifts to a new judgment. It seems that there is one man in the group who frequently interrupts and begs Keith for attention. I watch as Keith focuses on several newcomers to his porch while constantly being pulled back to work with this other man. 

“This is ridiculous.” I grumble to myself. “I will never get any attention for my own work while this man is on the porch. 

I begin to feel as if my growth doesn’t matter to Keith. I know this to be a lie, yet it seems that the only way I might get some help and guidance would be through some type of emotional outburst. I feel a deep sense of resentment toward this beautiful man – a man who I begin to perceive as a crybaby – a squeaky wheel who steals all of the attention that I desire, leaving no time left over for me. 

No One Will Help Me 

Deep resistance begins to flow through my body.  

“Maybe my time on Keith’s porch is coming to an end.” I ponder sadly. “Maybe Keith is just getting too busy and I will never again get the personal attention that I so desperately crave.” 

“I know these judgments are all a lie.” I continue my silent thought process. “I’m struggling and projecting onto Keith. Maybe I should just schedule a private session to deal with these emotions.” 

Determined to expose my projections, I begin to ponder about past behavioral patterns. I recognize that I have repeatedly made similar projections onto many other teachers, also judging them as too busy or too distant, incapable or unwilling to help me with my personal needs. The common denominator with each of these teachers is that I simply refused to ask for help. 

“They were my teachers.” I think to myself. “They should have known that I needed help. A good teacher would offer personal help. I shouldn’t have to ask for it.” 

I think back to my four months of Moon and Sun courses – times that I loved, but times where I also projected onto Chaty for not being more available to help me. I think back to my two months studying with Nadia in my Holistic Healing course – two months in which I frequently projected (but never expressed) similar judgments. I think of similar projections that I have made onto other teachers and leaders throughout my life. 

Now, here I am, beginning to dump the same judgments onto Keith.  

My pattern is now clearer than ever. I am dealing with a “when is it my turn” energy – a life-long belief that my needs will never be met – that no one will ever help me – that I am un-helpable. Yes, deeply rooted in my core is the belief that I will never get the help that I need – that the help is instead given only to the squeaky wheels. 

Know Thyself 

By the time Keith gets around the circle to work with me, I have become a basket case. Tears are already bubbling to the surface as Keith asks how I am doing. 

“Can I do this without the trauma-drama of tears?” I ask Keith. “Can I simply call in the light to transmute these crazy emotions?” 

“You will do it however you do it,” Keith begins, “but no, this is not a case where you can simply give these emotions over to the light. These emotions need to be examined.” 

“I am being guided to tell you that this is an exercise in ‘know thyself.’” Keith adds. “I want you to dig deeper – to bring in the light and to observe what it shows you – to see what comes up.” 

As I attempt to surrender to the light, I feel nothing, no light at all. Instead I begin to be aware of a feeling of blockage. I sense a wall of resistance scurrying to form at the top of my heart. 

Keeping God Out 

Rae reaches over to hold my hand. As she does so, I become aware of a strong physical sensation in my body. I feel a strong horizontal pressure running from side to side, directly across the middle of my chest, right on top of my heart. I intuitively know that this energy wall is something that I erected during my youth. I desperately want to tear the wall down – to open up my heart more completely. 

“Go deeper.” Keith verbally prods me during a period of silence. 

After a long lingering pause, I continue. 

“This wall is about God.” I begin. “I always felt like God was withholding from me, shunning me, refusing to help me when I begged and begged for help during my teen years.” 

“Yes,” I continue, “this wall is a thick impenetrable wall that I erected to keep God out of my heart – to protect myself from the pain of feeling rejected and abandoned. I was afraid to let God in, so I locked him out.” 

As I take my pondering still deeper, I realize that I constructed this wall for multiple reasons – partly to protect my inner magic that had already been severely shutdown at a very young age – partly to protect myself from parents whose attempts to help would have only driven my shame even deeper into hiding – but mostly as a desperate attempt to hide from the judgmental and fearful God of my youth. 

Yes, I believed that my thoughts and feelings were evil, that God could read my thoughts, and that my horrible transgender struggles would surely merit me an eternal life in Hell. I was determined to keep my heart as shutdown and opaque as possible. 

Deity Drama 

Keith informs me that I am beginning to experience my ‘God drama’ or my ‘Deity drama’ – a state where I begin to further recognize the deeper nature of my inner struggles – that my real problem is with the fact that I am separate from God and that I blame God for being the source of that separation, but in reality it is I who am keeping God out. 

“When you start to work with your God drama you are getting into some very deep and powerful work.” Keith lovingly guides me. 

At the time I do not fully understand all that Keith tells me – but I do know that my biggest struggles are with the divine – feeling separation – feeling abandoned by God – feeling clueless regarding why I often feel as if I am the beginner in a class full of geniuses – feeling that I will never get the help I crave, that for some reason God is withholding the help from me. 

Yes, in my early years, I feared God. I did everything I could possibly do to appease and to please what I saw as a being that could judge me and either reward me or condemn me. I was horribly trapped in the clutches of that belief system.  

Now, rather than seeing God as a judgmental being that needs to be respected and feared, I see my divine source as being a beautiful and unconditional loving presence that permeates everyone and everything. 

But the walls that I built in my youth continue to forcefully prevent this peaceful vibration of loving energy from flowing freely in my body. 

At a very subconscious level, I continue to block the divine energies, while at the same time I feel confused and abandoned at a conscious level, wondering why the energies will not further assist me. 

I project this “God Drama” onto my teachers. While consciously wishing they will help me more, I subconsciously lock them out and sabotage my own growth by maintaining walls of resistance, by refusing to ask for extra guidance, etc… 

Yes, as much as I want divine help, I continue to run subconscious programming that is afraid to let that divine assistance in, blocking it at every turn. My belief systems continue to proclaim that I am un-helpable – that divine assistance might hurt or destroy me – that such help is for everyone else but me. 

A subconscious part of me continues to judge those who cry and ask for help – demanding that I simply sit back in the corner with a smile on my face, pretending to be OK, simply waiting for help that might never be provided. 

As I go deeper into this process, I express to Keith that I am beginning to seriously doubt all of my energetic gifts – to feel as if I am simply a confused fraud – that none of this is real. 

A Small Paradox 

“Remember,” Keith interrupts our discussion, “this is an exercise in ‘know thyself.’ This is not about trying to fix anything. Just continue observing and learning.” 

“Rae,” Keith directs his question at my dear friend. “What do you feel as you continue to hold Brenda’s hand?” 

“I am feeling Brenda’s warm energy coming in through my hand and spreading in my body.” Rae lovingly replies. 

“See Brenda,” Keith adds “even while you are shutting down God, you are sending divine energy to Rae. That is quite the paradox.” 

“Yes, I know.” I reply with a sheepish grin. “All through this entire process I have been consciously focused on sending energy through my hand to Rae. I know this energy is not my own – it is only flowing through me.” 

As I walk away from the ceremony later that evening, I find myself in a very peaceful emotional state. Yes, I still feel the energetic blockage in my heart chakra, but I continue to feel a powerful and peaceful divine energy flowing through me. There is no doubt in my mind that I am on my way toward clearing this bizarre paradox that has shadowed me for decades.

Joyous Jealousy 

As I wake up on Friday, February 11, I find it difficult to believe how fast the days are flying by, yet even more amazing is the fact that each day seems to feel as if it contains an entire lifetime. 

Friday comes and goes quickly. After a beautiful chocolate ceremony in which I am thrilled to simply help others, the evening’s focus then shifts toward Rae. She has scheduled a private session with Keith to explore a deep past-life issue. I feel honored when I am asked to participate. 

As I watch the clarity with which Rae easily slips into the meditation, fully engulfing herself in the emotions of traumatic events that took place in a different dimension, I find myself experiencing very mixed feelings. I am joyous that Rae is finding profound healing, and I am simultaneously jealous that she seems to do it so easily. Again, I see myself with a dunce cap sitting in the back corner, feeling as if I am the only one that never gets it. 

After Rae’s powerful inner work, the two of us sit up talking till after 2:00 a.m.. We are both energetically on fire, basking in the energy of the beautiful events that took place earlier in the evening. 

I love my dear roommate with all of my heart. 

Oohhmming For Anger 

As my eyes first pop open during the early morning darkness, I am completely caught off guard by the feelings of anger that permeate my soul – yet the anger is not on the surface, it is buried quite deeply. 

While contemplating my emotional dilemma, my psychological training begins to jump into the foreground proclaiming that to the uninformed observer, I must literally appear to be bipolar, rapidly swinging back and forth between joy and depression while suspended on a high-speed pendulum of intense mood swings. 

I desperately want Rae’s love and assistance, but I also desperately want to isolate myself, pushing everyone away so as not to involve them in what feels like a downward spiral of self-destruction. 

I can only speculate how crazy I must appear to my sweet roommate. Yet in my heart I know that I am not crazy, that I am literally zeroing in on an intense fear-filled core issue, and that I must continue pushing forward into what feels like utter chaos. 

Again remembering my recent experiences in which vocal toning assisted me in accessing suppressed anger, I make a decision. While continuing to lie on my bed in the dark, I begin to lightly chant “ooohhhhmmm” in a barely-audible manner. As I do so, the anger begins to swell and surface. The anger is simultaneously accompanied by intense clarity. 

God Drama Revisited 

“I am deeply angry at God,” my heart whispers loudly. 

The more I verbally express my quiet gentle tones, the stronger the intense unexplainable anger swells in my heart. The emotions tell me that I am deeply angry at God for having abandoned me – not only now in my present-day spiritual pursuits, but throughout my life. 

Even though I know these thoughts to be just a silly lie, I allow the emotions to build, allowing them to find a healthy form of expression. Yes, these emotions are real – emotions that have been buried deeply in my soul since a very young age – emotions that continue to affect me on a daily basis at the subconscious level. 

“Are you OK?” Rae whispers with a concerned voice as she quietly enters my room. Even with my attempts to restrain my volume, she could not help but hear and feel my emotional journey. 

Rae and I spend several hours in deep loving conversation. Some of my anger has found its way to the surface, but much remains buried, stuffed and covered under layers of deep emotional debris. I do not allow myself to fully express the suppressed emotions. I will not allow myself to dump them onto Rae. 

Avril soon knocks at the door, and I again explain my roller-coaster ride to her. Another beautiful conversation ensues, but the emotional densities continue to agitate throughout my body. 

Holding Space 

Had it not been for a previous commitment, I might have spent the afternoon in complete isolation, but I had previously promised to assist Keith in a private session with three student interns and their chaperone, all of them living in the Xela area. Desperately wanting to be around Keith’s high-vibration energy, I stroll out to his porch for the Saturday afternoon encounter. After briefly explaining my emotional state, I ask for Keith’s advice regarding whether my presence would be helpful or just a burden. To my surprise, he asks me to remain. 

For the next six hours, I do nothing but hold a space of loving silence, meditatively focusing every ounce of my consciousness into simply trying to remain connected to higher energies. When the session is over, Keith walks me home in the dark. I break out in tears as I express my continued feelings of anger and hopelessness. 

“Will you please explain to Rae about what I am going through,” I beg Keith. “I know my emotional mood swings must be extremely difficult for her to tolerate, and I don’t want this to affect our relationship in a negative way. 

Loving Reassurance 

To my delight both Rae and Avril are still talking in the living room when Keith follows me through the front door. 

“Brenda is going through some extremely deep core emotional growth right now,” Keith tells them after an initial greeting. “I want you to know that what she is doing is extremely powerful for her. Please be patient with her, support her through this journey, and don’t take her mood swings personally.” 

I feel so grateful at hearing Keith’s kind and reassuring words. I know those words help both Rae and Avril, Keith’s words also give me the loving reassurance that I desperately need – reassurance that I am not certifiably crazy – that I am not on my way to the funny farm. 

To my surprise, I am soon able to relax and drift into dreamland. I have no idea what Sunday morning might bring. I only know that my emotions remain on “red alert.” 

Clenched Energy Flow 

The first half of Sunday’s chocolate ceremony is joyous and amazing. At every turn, I find myself working what feels like magic on people – sending them loving energies with my heart and my hands. As I move from one person to the next, I often get instant feedback, most of it internal, that what I am doing is truly making an energetic difference.  

At one point in the ceremony, Keith begins to guide a young woman in some soul-retrieval work. In this beautiful work, Keith guides the woman to work with an energy that she had pushed out of herself when she was young – an energy that contains part of her own inner magic that was kept safe by her Higher Self. 

As Keith gently nudges the young woman through her process, I get a strong intuition telling me that now is the time to switch from healer mode back into meditation mode. 

I begin to envision another piece of my own inner magic – a piece of magic that I pushed out of my body as a very young child. I feel this energy wanting to rejoin me in my own energy field, wanting to reconnect with me after all of these years of being kept safe by my Higher Self. 

Tears quickly begin to trickle down my cheeks – tears that soon transform into powerful and emotional sobs. 

“Brenda, go deeper … this is powerful work,” Keith reassures me. 

I soon realize that Keith has asked several other people to surround me with their presence to support me in this new process. 

“I’m guided to tell you something quite strange.” Keith again interjects. “I want you to find an energy that says ‘No, no, I don’t want that part of myself back … no, no, I don’t want it.’” 

Keith’s guidance sounds quite strange, but with Keith I have learned to implicitly trust “strange.” I begin to focus on finding and reinforcing my inner resistance. 

Soon, I find what at first feels like a scared puppy. I quickly recognize this puppy as “Sharon”, the little three-year-old inner child with whom I worked extensively last November. As the meditation spirals deeper, I intuitively sense that this little girl is clenching every one of her muscles in a desperate attempt to shut off the energy flow in her body – desperately attempting to prevent the divine energies from being able to move freely. My mind immediately flashes to memories of a woman I once worked with on Keith’s porch – a woman who was doing exactly that with her tightly clenched hands and feet. 

I immediately recognize that my little inner child is providing me with a powerful metaphor, showing me exactly how I shut down my own energies. It was not God that stopped sending me the energies, it was me that clenched my body so tightly that I could no longer feel them. 

Tale of Two Energies 

“I have a severe headache throbbing in a very small area, right on top of my third-eye chakra,” I tell Keith with surprise. 

Keith then gives me another strange set of instructions.  

“Brenda, embrace and hold the ‘No, I don’t want this energy’ voice in one of your hands. Then use your other hand to work with and to follow the energy in your forehead.” 

Keith goes on to explain that the headache is a result of energy blockage that was caused when I shut my energy down as a young child. 

I begin to focus on two simultaneous efforts. For what must have been an hour or more, I use the bunched-up fingers of my right hand to slowly track the energy in my forehead. To my surprise, the pain gradually moves, ever so slowly. First it moves along my right eyebrow, remaining above my eye, moving until it reaches the outside corner of my right eye. Next the pain moves directly into my right eye itself, reinforcing a message that I wrote about last fall – a message triggered by fears of a cataract – a message telling me that I am not seeing with my right eyes. Then, to my surprise, the painful energy moves up into my temple and then to the right side of my head, just above my ear. Finally, the energy moves to the upper right side of my forehead – the place where it finally fades to a mild ache. 

While tracing this amazing energy in my head – the mobile nature of which strongly confirms that the energy is not a physical headache – I also focus on little Sharon, the three-year-old inside of me who is tightly clenching her body, doing everything that she can to prevent the energies from flowing. I lovingly hold her in my energy field, sending love to comfort her intense fear. I imagine myself gently rubbing her hands and feet, soothing and encouraging her to relax and to allow. All the while, I am extremely careful to retain the image of a scared puppy, never pushing Sharon, always responding to her energy with loving support. 

Finally, as I sense that my inner journey is complete, I give myself permission to do something which I have often judged in others. I lie down on a large pillow and simply zone out during the remainder of group. 

“It is time to learn how to break the silly rules that I myself made up.” I tell myself while simply doing what I want to do. Peace and joy fill my heart. 

Addiction Turnarounds 

After a round of joyful hugs, Rae and I make our way into town to feed our ravished hunger. When our stomachs are delightfully full, we wander over to a local restaurant to find some type of yummy dessert. While there, we bump into several women who were at today’s ceremony. 

One of the woman proceeds to tell me how much Keith’s porch needs me. She goes on to tell me about how she spent lots of the time in group today manifesting that I would come over to work with her. 

“I could feel your powerful love.” The woman tells me genuinely. 

“I am growing quite addicted to Keith’s porch.” I respond, trying to divert the attention away from me. 

“Keith’s porch is addicted to you.” The woman counters with a loving glimmer in her eye. 

I cannot help but float all the way home, my heart being alive with joy and gratitude for the beautiful feedback. 

Confidentiality Comments 

It is with deep and humble reverence that I proceed with this next story – a story involving a young man whom I shall refer to as John (not his real name). At the start of the session, Keith swore the entire group to secrecy, while at the same time telling John that he was free to share his experiences with anyone of his choosing. At the end of the session, while John and I were talking to Keith, Keith suddenly paused, looked at John, and told him that I am writing a blog about my growth experiences. 

“Would it be OK with you if Brenda writes about today’s experiences in her blog?” Keith asks John. 

My heart swells with delight when John gives a positive answer. Even so, I will keep my commentary to a minimum in order to protect John’s privacy. 

Shift In Plans 

At the start of our Monday afternoon group, Keith makes a surprising announcement. 

“I have a young man in my house that needs our help desperately, and today’s session will be all about him. Since none of you will be getting personal attention, this session is on me. If you want to stay to help, please do. If you do not feel called, feel free to leave.” 

To my delight, no one opts to leave. There are nine of us who are eager to be of assistance in any way that we can. 

Shared Space 

“I am guided to tell you all that John’s story is quite real,” Keith begins to fill us in. “He is not making any of this up, and we are going to help him.” 

My heart swells with love as I listen to the background – information that I most likely would not have believed just ten short months ago. Truth resonates through my soul as I now listen to the story unfold. 

During the chocolate ceremony yesterday, I had worked with John extensively, assisting him in achieving a great deal of emotional release. At that time, I was clueless as to the nature or depth of John’s tears. Later Sunday evening, John had gone much deeper into those tearful emotions, sharing his unusual story with a friend. After a very difficult night, John showed up this morning on Keith’s porch, asking for help, knowing it was time for something to change. 

A year or two before John was born his mother had been pregnant with another child. John does not know specific details, but he does know that the baby boy died before he was born. Ever since John can remember, he has known that his baby brother has been sharing space with him, inside of his own body, mostly in his solar plexus. John used to talk to his brother when he was very young, and has always felt his presence with him. 

Loving Lessons 

Keith asks John to sit in the middle of the circle. The rest of us surround him, some in chairs, some sitting nearby on the floor. I choose to sit at his right side, cross-legged, close enough to help in whatever way necessary. 

John begins to cry almost immediately. Perhaps crying is not an adequate word. John sways his body in large circles while deeply held tears stream down his cheeks like small-but-raging rivers. 

I gently place one hand on John’s chest and one on his back, sending him loving support, letting him know that I am here to hold space in whatever way he needs. It takes all of my strength to sway with John, being vigilant to flow with him, making no effort whatsoever to restrict his movements. As I connect with his energy, I feel my own solar plexus tighten up considerably. 

Keith begins to talk extensively while guiding John through his process, giving John’s rational mind all of the feedback it needs in order to allow the process to continue. 

“This is not about taking your brother’s spirit out of you,” Keith begins, “this is about releasing him with your love. This is an agreement that the two of you made before this lifetime. It is a teaching opportunity to help you connect with other dimensions.” 

“You are being forced to deal with the reality of other dimensions via your connection with your brother,” Keith continues, “so that when he leaves, you can then have the training and the faith that you need to learn to communicate with higher, more-evolved, enlightened beings in other dimensions.” 

Doubts Revisited 

Keith asks several of the empaths in the group to assist John by helping him to release his pain and fear, allowing him to go forward with the process that needs to unfold. As I watch the process unfold, I again begin to shrink in confidence, fully recognizing that others around me have energy gifts that I cannot even come close to emulating. 

I note that Keith is keeping very close tabs on these empaths, coaching them frequently, keeping them safe from consuming the dense energies into their own bodies. Soon, I silently giggle as I realize the hidden compliment in the fact that Keith hardly pays me any attention at all. Many times he has told me that he trusts me implicitly and he knows that there is no need to watch me. I take this as a deep compliment and simply do what I know – I radiate love, I do Reiki, and I share a peaceful heart-energy vibration, using my essence to create a safe and loving space in which John can do his own work. 

Energetic Rebirth 

What happens next surprises us all. Without communicating to us verbally, John lies back and begins to twist and move his body as if he is in labor, giving birth to a new baby. The process continues for most of the next hour. If I did not know better, I might have believed that he was indeed a pregnant woman in childbirth, enduring deep pain, struggling to free the new life that lives within. 

Finally, after a long and tearful process, Keith announces that the process is over, that the spirit has been lovingly released. John continues to cry lightly for another ten to fifteen minutes while he gradually regains his composure and presence. John appears to be deeply emotional as he grieves the loss of his life-long companion and brother. 

Suddenly John begins to laugh. 

“I see him.” John exclaims with joy. “He is a black baby, being born right now in Africa. He has his own body and is very happy with his mother.” 

“I am being guided to tell you that you will meet this brother in person,” Keith interjects. “The two of you will definitely cross paths in this physical reality.” 

Mirror, Mirror, On the Wall 

After a period of resting and integration, John sits up and begins to sip a little drinking water. As several of us tell John how different and alive he looks, Keith asks someone to go into the bathroom to bring out a mirror. 

“It’s me! It’s me!” John exclaims through joyful tears while staring deeply at his own reflection in the mirror. 

His eyes are alive with love and joyful innocence, as if he were just born today in genuine purity. 

“John,” Keith interrupts. “I am getting clear guidance that you need to go swimming in the lake today – before it gets dark. I don’t know why, but I am being told very clearly that you need to get into the lake today.” 

Soon, John begins to work his way to standing, making early preparations to say goodbye. 

Back To Me 

“I am experiencing a deep pain in my solar plexus,” I tell Keith as the session is at an end. 

“You want to give birth too,” Keith responds matter-of-factly. 

Somehow I believe that Keith literally means what he said – that something in my own solar plexus is just dying to wake up and to be free. 

A Valentines Day Gift 

John gradually makes his way around the porch, giving everyone a hug, spending a few seconds with each person. 

By some strange synchronicity, I happen to be the last one in line. When John and I put our arms around each other, I suddenly feel a powerful energy burst in my heart – as if someone just switched on a huge spotlight of magical unconditional love. I feel as if my heart is about to explode with unbelievable radiating magic. 

John looks at me with shock and amazement in his eyes as he feels the powerful energy exchange taking place between us. My heart is on fire, shining a force that blows me away with unconditional love. 

John does not want to let go. I don’t want to let go. The powerful magical energy continues to flow between us. While I do not know what I am doing, I intuitively know that I am indeed doing something and that this energy is definitely flowing from within me. My heart seems to know exactly what to do, not needing any guidance from me. It simply shines its light – and a brilliant light it is. All I want to do is to continue observing the process in utter amazement. 

We vacillate repeatedly between hugs, eye staring, and forehead touching. Several times John weakly utters the words “I love you”. As I begin to feel weak and dizzy, I respond with my own “I love you too.” 

I intuitively know that I have magically given birth to a new heart power. I have felt and experimented with this powerful radiant sensation of unconditional love for a very long time, but today it is more radiant and strong than I have ever felt.  

Finally, I begin to share with John that what he is experiencing is pure unconditional love, telling him that this is what true divine love is all about. Were it not for the fact that Keith had told him to go to the lake, I do believe that John and I could have stood there for hours, basking in the glow of that beautiful divine love. 

As John walks away from Keith’s porch, a powerful little Jedi voice in my soul whispers loudly, “Happy Valentines Day, Brenda. This expanded heart is a new gift for you – a beautiful and genuine gift for you to share with the world.” 

Tears of Joy 

As John finally leaves the porch on his way to the lake, I barely have strength to collapse into a nearby chair. Within seconds I begin to spout joy-filled tears as I ponder the amazing energy that just woke up inside of my heart. I simply cannot contain the joy that wants to spill forth. 

Seeing my tears, Keith walks over for a brief chat. I savor the opportunity to share the details of what just occurred. 

Valentines Vibrations 

Rae and a couple women from the group decide to make a salad and a yummy raw-food-chocolate pie. They plan to devour their treats after first visiting the sauna at a local hotel. I am invited, and a little bit of my old ego self wants to say yes, telling me how pathetic it would be to spend Valentines night home alone. 

But the new heart magic in me is so mesmerizing that I want nothing more than to spend a quiet evening alone, simply integrating the newfound energy that is vibrating powerfully inside of me. I deeply crave an opportunity to lie down and integrate. 

For the first few moments in which I am alone, I begin to slip into a feeling of victimization about my friends partying while I am home alone – but I quickly take care of that silly trauma-drama by switching immediately back into my glowing heart space. 

For the remainder of the evening I stretch out on the bed, basking in the sensation of my heart being energetically on fire. The energy simply flows unobstructed, and I love every moment of the experience. 

A few hours later, when Rae returns home, I invite her to sit on the daybed and talk. 

“Whoa … is that vibration coming from you?” Rae exclaims with surprise. “It feels as if the whole area around you is vibrating.” 

I simply smile and respond “yes.” I love this amazing new gift of heart magic. I cannot think of a more wonderful way to spend Valentines Day – an amazing day that I will never forget. 

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

 

A Home Run

February 24th, 2011

My energy is light and bubbly as I briefly step into the middle of the circle to grab a large ‘teacher’ quartz crystal that seems to be calling to me. This first Friday in February feels so peaceful. The emotional roller coaster ride of my previous six days seems like a distant afterthought. The only ideas currently passing through my mind are joyful thoughts of being present for others, assisting them in their own emotional processing.

Imagine my surprise when Keith immediately focuses his magical energy in my direction.

A Crystal Presence

“Brenda,” Keith unexpectedly grabs my attention. “Stare into the crystal and connect with it. Go inside the crystal to see what you find.”

I try to stare with my physical eyes, but the visual image distracts my focus. Instead, I close my eyes and imagine myself energetically entering the crystal realm. Minutes later, I envision myself sitting on a sloped edge of smooth transparent quartz. I see nothing with my inner eyes, but intuitively feel as if the energy of the crystal is pulsing all around me.

“Go deeper.” Keith interrupts a few minutes later. “Keep talking, describing your experience – describing what is going on around you.”

An intuitive sensation guides me to feel as if I am sinking through the sloped edge of quartz – as if the once-solid base transforms into quicksand, pulling me deeper into the crystal’s mystical core.

My head is finally engulfed in the magic as the crystal seems to consume my essence. I intuitively know that I have succeeded in going down another layer.

As I quietly sit in meditation, I sense that an unknown being is nearby, sitting in the crystal with me, waiting patiently for me to connect. I feel guided to reach out with my imagination, taking the hand of this unseen-but-felt being. We both sit quietly in a cross-legged position, meditating together, not expressing a single audible word.

I don’t know why I am here. I have no idea whatsoever. I simply know that I need to sit quietly and observe.

Nightmare Projections

Suddenly, as if on cue, the focus of the group shifts away from me. A nearby gentleman starts to moan loudly as he begins to delve deeply into his own emotional pain.

Keith remains unusually silent as Ambe and Moses begin to work with this gentleman. Keeping my eyes tightly shut, I merely listen as agonizing judgments begin to swell in my heart.

First of all, this particular gentleman has been pushing my emotional buttons for a few weeks. He is deeply gifted in the energy realms, yet at times seems helplessly stuck in his left brain, trying to use his rational mind to fix himself. I struggle with the way his energy reminds me of myself. In addition, he triggers my “crybaby” energy – an energy that will not actually reveal its true nature to me for a couple more weeks.

But the immediate way that Ambe and Moses jump in to help also deeply triggers me. These emotions catch me off guard, because I had believed myself to be in complete loving harmony with Ambe and Moses’s beautiful energies.

A dominant and angry part of me wants to scream out “NOOOOoooo … quit trying to fix him … quit pushing the river by trying to psychoanalyze him … this is Keith’s porch … you are here to learn from Keith … shut up and let Keith do his job … let Keith teach you how to do this rather than trying to show Keith how you would do it.”

I am deeply distressed by the strong emotional reaction boiling inside my belly. The energy is furiously bouncing around in my solar plexus, making me extremely uncomfortable. I continue to sit in silent meditation, eyes closed, imagining myself lightly grasping the hand of the crystal being who still meditates beside me.

I am observing my worst nightmare. Everything that is taking place around me triggers intense emotions of judgment – intense projections of guilt and blame onto others.

A Horror Movie

“This is just a movie.” I feel my crystal companion intuitively guide me. “We are going to sit here and simply watch this scene together.”

I again think of the Muppet Show analogy that I shared with Conny. I desperately desire to see the situation as just a cute puppet comedy, but my heart is so agitated that everything unfolding around me instead feels as if I am watching a bloody and frightening horror movie. I don’t want to watch this anxiety-inducing movie.

Judgment and anxiousness build in my body. My heart is beating rapidly and strongly. I want to run away from the porch.

“This is Keith’s porch!” I again grumble to myself. “This is not the Ambe and Moses healing show!”

Resentment and judgment build in my body. Anxiousness and frustration increasingly consume my soul. I know this is all illusion – all in my head – all perfect – yet I do not want to be here.

The scene is agonizing. I hate this movie. The script is wrong and distorted. It should not be playing out this way.

I long to jump up and run away as the inner discomfort continues to intensify. Instead, I continue to imagine myself sitting cross-legged in a crystal, quietly observing an inner rumbling of intense emotions – emotions that feel like a massive earthquake in my soul.

“Why do you want to run away?” I sense the being ask me intuitively. “Just keep observing while trying to detach yourself from the emotions.”

I note that the distressed gentleman to my left appears to deeply appreciate the help that Ambe and Moses are providing to him. I also feel the profound and genuine love through which Ambe and Moses are operating. Yet my unexplainable agitation and judgment rage on.

Self-Flogging

As I continue to observe the movie scene gradually unfolding in front of me, tears of recognition begin to trickle down my cheeks. After what feels like a half-hour of gentle streaming, the tear floodgates open further as my emotional release becomes even more intense.

I am beginning to recognize the beautiful way in which this scene is being magically brought to my consciousness – a scene that seems to be synchronously teaching me about self-righteous judgments. I recognize that these judgments were innocently programmed into me during my childhood.

I was taught to be proud of and to honor my family name – a teaching that left me feeling slightly better than those who had a less prestigious family history.

My religious upbringing proudly proclaimed that I was part of a “righteous and chosen people” – a teaching that made me subtly believe that I was somehow special and privileged in the eyes of God.

Other teachings of my childhood taught me that I was separate from God and that I needed to respect and honor my church leaders – that I needed to trust that they were God’s representatives and were more connected to divine guidance than was I. Even though I was taught that God could speak directly to me, I also believed that guidance would never differ from that given to my superiors.

As I allow tearful contemplations to take me further down the rabbit hole, I feel my buttons being pushed with increasing intensity – triggering self-doubts, self-judgments, self-hatred that has been skillfully hiding behind a façade of strength and goodness.

I begin to carefully examine each button and trigger that passes through my awareness.

Original Sin

Finally, the painful horror movie comes to an end as Keith again returns to work with me. I fill him in about my current meditative insights – insights regarding my newly-uncovered self-judgment, self-loathing, self-resentment, and self-hatred – insights regarding the deeply-rooted programming and life-long beliefs of my overall stupidity and unworthiness.

“Where does it all stem from?” Keith innocently asks.

I want to tell Keith that my self-judgment and dysfunction originates with the transgender struggles that intensified at around age ten or eleven, yet if I am honest, I must admit that my self-flogging began much earlier than that.

Keith suggests that my self-hatred goes back to the “nail in my heart” – a metaphor that we had discovered in a previous session. Gently nudging me to come up with a term for my guilt, Keith continues to hint and prod until I blurt out the phrase “original sin”.

The concept of “original sin”, while rooted deeply in many Christian teachings, is not exactly part of the Mormon teachings of my youth. Because of this, I do not fully resonate with the phrase until Keith continues.

“Brenda,” Keith clarifies. “You feel evil for even having been born. The fact that you have not yet achieved enlightenment in previous lifetimes implies that you are still flawed, still a complete failure. That is where your self-hatred and guilt originate.”

“Wow,” I think to myself. “That statement really resonates with me. I am subconsciously judging myself and God for the fact that I am still not enlightened – that after countless lifetimes of attempting to connect with my source, I am still a failure, still abandoned.”

Pity-Party Interrupted

Already being deep in my emotions, I start to drift into the realm of self-pity and victimization. Memories of self-defeating statements begin to flood my mind – statements such as “no one will be there to help me” and “I don’t deserve help.” These are the same deeply rooted emotional patterns that I have been playing out in one way or another throughout my entire life.

Keith immediately pulls me out of that pity-party emotion, asking me, “Brenda, please remain focused on observing your judgments.”

Beyond Help

Again, my intuitions remind me that the present scene on the porch – a scene that continues to unfold across the room to my left – is a scene that has been perfectly orchestrated. The entire scenario with my crystal teacher and with Ambe and Moses helping the other gentleman has been beautifully performed – performed in a way that is now shining light on my life-long dysfunctional patterns.

In fact, everything about my life right now seems to underscore and add exclamation points to the fact that I am being deeply guided and blessed at every turn. Yes, I am receiving more guidance than I could ever have imagined, yet I still want to believe that no one is helping me, that no one can help me, that no one will ever help me. A very strong part of me demands that I believe that I am simply beyond help.

Rae to the Rescue

“There is a pile of your own judgment sitting right in front of you.” Keith begins to guide me into meditation. “Ask the light, or perhaps ask the crystal, to take and to transmute part of that judgment for you.”

I focus my mind on the assigned task, desperately trying to give the judgment to the light, yet I feel as if it is all going absolutely nowhere.

I notice a strong heavy pain that feels as if it is sitting right on top of my heart.

“What does that pain represent to you?” Keith queries after I fill him in regarding my new metaphor.

“It feels as if this pressure represents all of the self-judgment that is piled on top of my heart space. It is literally squashing my heart, restricting my capacity to love and holding me prisoner.”

“Keep up your external dialog.” Keith requests after I remain silent for a while. He feels that it is important for me to continue our journey together in a more tightly-coordinated effort.

Again, I try to visualize some of the light transmuting a small portion of this self-hatred.

“There goes some now.” Keith interjects a few seconds later.

I feel almost nothing, other than a slight sensation of energy movement and a brief feeling of lightness above my heart.

“Now, move some more.” Keith guides me.

I seem to be stuck, completely incapable of doing what Keith is asking of me. I again picture myself with a dunce cap on my head, sitting in the back corner of the class.

As Keith momentarily steps into his kitchen, Rae feels guided to come over in front of me, kneeling down on a couple of cushions still positioned at my feet.

“She is an empath.” I think quietly to myself. “She is capable of helping others move their emotional densities. Surely she will be able to help me.”

Almost immediately, I begin to literally feel the judgmental energy flowing out of my body – flowing from my chest, from my head, and through my knees where Rae’s hands are now touching me. I love the feeling and I intuitively know that a layer of emotional density is being effortlessly siphoned out of me in a way that is permanent. There is no fear. I am deeply joyful as I realize that Rae is removing only those energies which I have already felt and identified – energies that I no longer need to carry – energies that I have now sufficiently processed.

Keith soon returns and begins guiding Rae’s progress, making sure that she is not taking any of the emotional densities inside of her. In the middle of the process, I briefly mention to Keith that I am getting a headache in my forehead above my right eye. In later conversation, Rae surprises me by indicating that she had a headache in exactly the same spot, only hers had been present before coming over to work on me, and it had disappeared right before I mentioned my own headache to Keith.

“You took the headache from me.” Rae tells me with confidence.

“Could it be,” I ask myself, “that I absorbed Rae’s headache into my body while she was helping me to move my own emotional densities?”

My memory flashes to a similar experience in early December where I seemed to have absorbed someone’s scratchy throat symptoms during a Shiatsu massage.

I feel very light and happy, even with the mild headache still looming. I cannot explain what just happened, but I know with all of my heart that Rae assisted me in removing a great deal of buried emotional density – density consisting of deep painful issues that I could not move all by myself.

As I begin to rapidly feel much better, the therapeutic focus gradually shifts from me to Rae. I simply sit in silent and peaceful meditation.

“Was that my core issue?” I anxiously ask Keith as the beautiful chocolate session comes to an end.

“I don’t know,” Keith begins, “but you were definitely digging much deeper than ever before, clearing portions of some very deep stuff.”

Control Issues

“I feel like I need to get drunk.” I tell Rae as we walk home in a blissful state. “I cannot explain it, but I feel as if part of my spiritual stuck-ness is related to my fears of losing physical control. I have this strange inner guidance telling me that I need to have an experience where I at least begin to lose partial control of my body.”

The thought of losing control terrifies me – both in a physical way and apparently in a spiritual way as well. A feeling of fear parades through my body as I discuss my strange feelings with Rae.

The subject of alcohol has been one of lifelong judgment and guilt, mostly projected outward onto others. Because of my strict religious teachings, I never touched a single drop of any alcoholic beverage until I was in my mid-to-late thirties, at which time a friend convinced me to take a few sips of wine during a moment of emotional rebellion. Since then, I have learned that I simply do not like the taste of most alcohol and have no desire to acquire one.

Even though I no longer hold any judgments over alcohol or against those who drink it, I still hold a deep fear over what my family might think were they to ever find out that during the past ten years I have consumed a grand total of perhaps ten drinks while in social situations with friends. Such a revelation might break their hearts.

A part of me strongly dictates that I must face my fear of familial judgment and disappointment by actually delving a little deeper into the experience and then writing about it.

But as I walk home with Rae on this beautiful Friday evening, the fourth day of February, I have no idea just how soon I will get my wish.

A Tiny-Bit Tipsy

Within an hour, Rae, Skye, and I are all sitting in a local restaurant waiting for burgers and fries. After an hour of delightful conversation and munching, Rae leans over and indicates that she and Skye are going to go order a beer, asking if I would like one too.

As I begin to say “No, thanks”, I immediately catch myself and reply “Yes …  thanks for asking … I think I need to do that.”

As a young teenager, I remember smelling a mostly-empty beer bottle just once. The scent of the beer was so intense and gross to my sensitive nose that I absolutely knew that I would never take a drink of that disgusting stuff.

Just a year ago, when I told a friend that I had never even tasted beer, I ended up being coerced into taking my first sip. My prior judgment was re-confirmed – I had absolutely no desire to ever drink a bottle of beer – never ever.

Just a few weeks ago, I had actually asked Ambe for a tiny sip of her beer, again reconfirming my utter disgust for the taste.

Friday night, in the midst of two dear friends, I force myself to gradually consume the entire bottle. Just the mere presence of that beer bottle sitting on the table in front of me causes me to simultaneously swallow a huge gulp of self-judgment and pride. I find myself continually looking sheepishly around the restaurant to see just who might be watching as I commit what feels like such an incredibly evil act.

An hour later, as the three of us hang out briefly at another local restaurant where a small traveling trio is playing some really fun music, I cautiously decide it is time for another drink. I simply did not enjoy the beer, so at the bartender’s recommendation, I try a Bailey’s and milk. I actually quite like it, but quickly realize that I have taken my experiment in “loss of control” as far as I care to go.

Even with just two drinks in my tummy, I am feeling quite tipsy. I see no reason to go any further down the rabbit hole at this time. I have faced my fears, learned that when I get a little under the influence I am still a very happy and fun person to be around, and have now written about the experience – facing one of my biggest fears of all.

Cuddle Love

As the evening draws to a close, Rae and I have a little more fun simply listening to music and dancing around our apartment.

As I grow tired and a little more wobbly, I lay down on the day bed that doubles as an uncomfortable sofa in our living room. Rae soon sits beside my tired head, gently and lovingly stroking my hair. I feel a small burst of energy with each stroke. I am amazed at how my ongoing emotional healing seems to parallel a gradual reawakening of a richer sensitivity to the energy of human touch.

I am deeply grateful for this incredible soul named Rae who has entered my life in such a magical way. At times, I see her as a beautiful daughter. At other times I see her as an amazing friend who is helping me to wake up and to face more of my own growth and fears. Tonight, I simply love the feeling of unconditional loving touch as energy flows into my neck from each gentle stroke of my hair.

Skirting the Issues

I have every intention of writing on Saturday, but the energy is simply not supporting me. My ongoing growth has been so intense that I seem to be stuck in emotional processing mode. Part of me is afraid to write, not yet ready to face the onslaught of emotions that I know will accompany any attempts to put my continuing growth into words.

When Avril stops by unexpectedly, she decides to tag along with Rae who already has plans to spend the day in San Pedro. Five minutes after they both disappear down the sidewalk, I find myself pushing my laptop under some pillows, performing a quick change out of my pajamas, and racing to catch up – hoping to catch my friends at the lake before a boat whisks them away beyond my reach.

The first thing I attempt to do in San Pedro is to connect to a couple of friends with Skype at a local internet cafe – but none of my connections go through. The emotions in my heart strongly proclaim that today is not a day for talking to friends back home.

Soon, I am again tagging along with Rae and Avril. I have absolutely no agenda other than to follow Avril, who has no agenda other than to follow Rae. The two of us simply giggle as we follow Rae around on her planned errands.

After a delightful half day of dining and shopping, we stop at a small second-hand clothing store.

“Brenda,” Rae and Avril innocently encourage me, “why don’t you pick out a skirt.”

Forgotten Fears

For a couple of weeks now, I have felt a strong desire to begin dressing in a little more feminine manner – but as I begin to scan the little clothing store for any treasures that might await my grasp, an unexpected guest instead latches onto my heart.

An intense feeling of fear, insecurity and self-judgment consume my soul, reminding me of all the previous times I have gone skirt shopping. I recall feeling incredibly stupid for not being able to pick out a skirt that looks good with my age and body shape, and for never being able to find one that would coordinate with any of the blouses that I own.

I tentatively pick out one skirt that I think might work, but the loving feedback I receive from Rae and Avril only serves to confirm my utter lack of self-confidence when it comes to skirts. Soon Rae and Avril have picked out two other skirts that they think might work, but as I try them on and stare at myself in the mirror, a powerful sense of panic consumes my soul.

The two of them want me to choose what I like, but my confidence level has fallen through the floor. Soon, I am sitting against a wall with tears streaming down my cheeks.

With Rae and Avril’s encouragement, I eventually choose one skirt that I think might work, but my emotions are in turmoil, my self-loathing in full gear, and my confidence literally nonexistent. I feel like a huge burden – an energy suck that is sure to drive all of my friends insane. I simply want to isolate myself, and I absolutely know that I will never actually wear the skirt that I purchased.

Deep Depression

As fate would have it, Rae has plans for the evening. I choose to stay home. My emotions are only intensifying and the last thing I want to do is to be around others.

As Saturday evening progresses, I fall deeper and deeper down the self-pity hole, wallowing in my self-created pain as I watch all of my past insecurities parade through my awareness. The emotions of self-deprecation are overwhelming, more intense than I have ever felt them. As I attempt to spiritually center myself, the visual of a nail piercing my heart passes through my awareness, along with the intuition that I actually died this way in some remote past life.

With increased intensity, I feel as if I am literally sinking in emotional quicksand. There is absolutely no hope for release. I feel like giving up, like running away – but there is nowhere to run.

On this lonely Saturday night, I am not the least bit suicidal, yet I am shocked as feelings of suicide parade themselves through my consciousness. I remember how I had often thought casually of killing myself just a short fifteen years ago – never in a deeply serious way, but I was thinking about it just the same.

Waves of numbness and deep tears push their way through my emotionally tired body as I again feel a deep pressure clamping down on my heart. I am all alone. I want to meditate but I cannot seem to find the mental focus to concentrate for more than one second. I wish I could lose myself in computer games or a movie, but I cannot motivate myself to even try. I want to try calling a friend with Skype, but the thought of reaching out to another from such a depressing state is terrifying. I refuse to be a burden. I don’t want to pull anyone else down with me.

A sense of complete worthlessness overwhelms me as I helplessly observe my own behavior.

Its Just Energy

Shortly after 10:00 p.m., Rae comes home and finds me crying in my room. Sitting at the foot of my bed, she gently uncovers my feet and places them against her bare leg, making just enough contact to ground my energy with her own.

We talk for a while, but I realize the conversation will go nowhere as long as I feel completely disconnected from source.

“Do you want me to guide you through a meditation?” Rae asks lovingly.

“You can try.” I reply feebly, “I don’t know if I will be able to focus, but I would love it if you could help me get re-centered in a higher vibration state.”

For the next thirty minutes, Rae gently guides me through two back-to-back meditations. Gradually, I return to a state of blissful peace.

“All of the past is nothing but a memory.” This idea flows strongly into my heart as Rae continues guiding me through the second meditation.

“The past is nothing but energy and belief systems.” My thoughts continue. “Why does the sheer nothingness of a memory hold such a strong controlling power over my present emotions?”

The question causes me to spiral deeper and deeper into my meditative state.

“Yes,” I repeat to myself. “All of my dysfunction and fear is nothing but an energetic memory. Why can’t I simply let go of the energy?”

Slippery Slopes

With Rae’s angelic assistance, I fall asleep peacefully, and even dream quite soundly, but by 5:00 a.m. on Sunday morning my eyes are wide open as I again struggle to maintain emotional sanity while being bombarded with an ever increasing onslaught of crazy emotions. I spend the entire morning drowning in these smelly emotional waters.

As the Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony approaches, I desperately consider staying home. My slippery slope of intense emotion has pulled me to the middle of an imaginary insanity swamp – a swamp that is sucking me in deeper and deeper.

“If I walk onto that porch I will make an absolute fool of myself.” I ponder with terror. “Even worse, there will likely be a huge group gathered around to watch.”

Surrender to Shame

As I arrive at the dreaded magical porch, I quietly take a seat on a pillow by Keith’s kitchen door. Without saying a word to anyone, I simply stare at the ground and contemplate numbly.

“I’ve been feeling your energy a lot lately.” Keith quietly whispers as he approaches before the ceremony begins.

“Yeah, so have I.” I reply without even glancing upward. “I feel like I have every one of my past negative voices parading loudly through my mind. I am trying to remain the observer, but feel like I am losing my mind. I can’t do this by myself.”

I don’t even want to make eye contact with Keith because I know I will burst out into tears.

As the ceremony begins, Ambe pulls up a pillow and sits directly to my right. As she lightly touches my right arm with her fingers, shame-filled tears begin to flow down my cheeks. Soon, Ambe reaches around my back and rests her head on my shoulder. The floodgates begin to open even wider as a beautiful young woman on my left responds by also reaching over to share her energetic touch.

“I guess there is no point in trying to be strong today.” I ponder as I surrender to the fact that I am about to splatter emotions all over this porch.

Trading Places

Almost halfway through the ceremony, Keith asks a young woman to sit on a pillow in the middle of the porch. He then guides the remainder of the group through an exercise in helping her to energetically walk out of the emotional hell in which she finds herself trapped.

I am quite familiar with this process, and my heart tells me that I should be the one in the middle. As I ponder that jealous thought, my heart whispers that I will be next. As I wait, I allow myself to sink deeper into my own hell hole – deeper into the quicksand of hopelessness and shame. I soon curl up in a fetal position on my pillow and begin to quietly sob.

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts when the exercise is complete, “Would you trade places with the girl in the middle.”

Briefly opening my tear-soaked eyes, I crawl five feet and return to a fetal position in the middle of the room. I am way beyond caring what people might think. The only thing on my mind is that I am miserable and I desperately want to do the necessary emotional work that will allow me to clear these dense energies out of my body once and for all. I know that I am presently incapable of doing the work by myself.

Suffering Screams

I feel stupid and grateful at the same time as Keith briefly explains to the group that I have been dancing around a deep core issue for a couple of weeks, and that I now need some help to release it.

Keith then does something totally unexpected. He launches into another group meditation, this one involving the Cosmic Consciousness or Christ Consciousness – a deep and profound meditation that brings in the powerful energy of unconditional love.

I begin to cry again, but the emotions fizzle. I want to scream but cannot find the courage or the energy to do so. Remembering the anger-releasing emotional power of my “ohm-ing” in Xela, just a week earlier, I attempt to repeat the process, beginning with a very weak and shaky “oooohhhhhhmmmm”.

As I do so, a few others who are surrounding me begin to “ooohhhhmmm” with me. As I gradually increase in strength, the group responds with equally increasing volume and harmony.

The vocal vibrations pop the cork off my bottled-up emotional reservoir, and I am soon crying profusely. To my shock and surprise, I find myself screaming and sobbing at the same time, attempting to muffle the sounds by pushing my face into a blanket. The group assists me in a profound way by continuing to “ohm” loudly while I continue my powerful scream-filled purge.

The deeply-intense crying and screaming go on for several minutes. Gradually, the volume decreases as the tears begin to be replaced by rapid hyper-ventilation type breathing.

I begin to recognize that Moses is gently holding my head, making sure I am OK while Ambe is seated behind me, lovingly singing while caressing my back. Many others are gathered around, adding their own profound support. All are perfect angels. I love them so much.

As my rapid and very heavy breathing gradually fades back to my own quiet “ohm-ing”, I begin to recognize the sound of several others crying on the porch. I am so into my own process that I never learn the details, but I am told that my own deep processing has triggered several others, assisting them to access their own deeply buried emotions – to do their own deep emotional release work. Somehow, this tiny bit of knowledge fills my heart with deep gratitude.

Progressing Peace

“How are you feeling Brenda?” Keith asks me as I finally reach a quiet state of peace.

I have been working on bringing in the higher vibration energies for several minutes now, and Keith asks his question at just the perfect time.

“I’m feeling much lighter.” I reply in a quiet peaceful tone. “But I know I’m not done. I intuitively know there is more to access and release.”

“I’m feeling quite nauseous.” I add a few seconds later.

“Then you have probably done enough for now.” Keith gently replies. “You need to listen to your body, to allow yourself to rest and integrate.”

I continue to breathe deeply. Occasional small bursts of tears trickle down my cheeks. I remain curled up on my pillow for what must be at least another hour, quietly meditating in my own private mental space. I feel the presence of others still gathered around to support me, touching me, holding my hands. I occasionally listen to portions of the ongoing ceremony as others continue their own work.

But the only thing that interests me right now is the love in my heart and the peaceful feeling that progressively infiltrates my body.

A Home Run

“You hit a home run today.” Keith smiles at me as we talk briefly after group. “Don’t think about it now, just integrate with yourself. Rational mind cannot explain what you did today, but the intuitions will begin to flow through you as you process and write about it.”

“What you did today was extremely powerful, not only for you, but for the whole group.” Keith adds. “Thank you for being so awesome.”

“You did it with grace.” Moses tells me later with a huge hug.

“You did it with elegance.” Someone adds from across the porch.

Deep gratitude fills my heart as I crawl into bed at 7:30 p.m. – gratitude for the peace that runs through my veins – gratitude for the amazing friends that guided and supported me through today’s process – gratitude that I found the courage and strength to stand in the batter’s box at a time when the universe seemed to be throwing every possible type of high-speed curve ball in my direction.

Yes, I had surrendered to the process – yes I had faced some deeply rooted fears – and yes, I had faced them with love and courage.

While resting on my pillow, newly awakened energies lightly drift through my body. As I ponder just what these new energies might mean, a feeling of deep relaxation whisks me away into dreamland.

Skirting Joy

Monday morning, I can think of nothing more joyful than to put on the skirt that I purchased in San Pedro on Saturday. As I walk into our afternoon chocolate gathering, wearing my skirt and a tiny bit of makeup, I giggle with delight as Keith and others give me glowing feedback on how pretty I look – but I am in such an enchanted airy-fairy state that I need no outside feedback to make me feel beautiful and confident.

I mostly sit and glow during five hours of group, quietly holding a loving energetic space for others while I continue to integrate my own emotional growth in pensive meditation. I am not sure if my rational mind will ever understand or appreciate yesterday’s events, but in my heart I know that something profound has shifted – something that will only reveal itself in non-rational ways.

I am intuitively aware that considerable emotional density continues to lurk, swimming beneath the surface of my emotional lake. But for now, I will enjoy a couple of days of joyful writing and being – simply being present in a healing path that increasingly reveals itself as a beautifully orchestrated stage play, a play written and directed by my own Higher Self.

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Dancing Around The Edges

February 17th, 2011

It is with great difficulty that I begin writing. I have been avoiding the task for days while my emotional body has been ground painfully into the sand under the crashing weight of a heavy tidal wave – a wave of frightening growth through which I was still passing.

Yes, the emotional tide has been deep and swift, filled with treacherous jagged rocks and strong undercurrents. Many of the things that I must write about are quite daunting. I have been stuck in deep pain and judgment – self-deprecating judgment that was often projected outward.

Through it all, I have struggled to remain the impartial observer – through it all I have often felt as if I were stuck and drowning in the quicksand of guilt, blame, and self-hatred.

The story is a long one – a story having many unexpected twists and turns – a story that must be told.

Momo Markets

It feels like more than a year ago. The emotions seem so distant, yet painfully real and lingering. It was to be a beautiful day – the last Saturday of January – a day of friends exploring the unique and beautiful culture of Guatemala.

Six of us crowd into Keith’s trusty little pickup – Keith, Ambe, and Skye squeeze into the front seat, while Moses, Rae and myself are squished tightly in the camper-like shell-covered bed of the truck, lying on thick foam pads while wrapped up in warm blankets and sleeping bags. The air at 6:00 a.m. is chilly and crisp, especially when crossing over an 11,000 foot mountain pass on the way to Xela.

But Xela is not our first destination. Shortly after 9:00 a.m., after a beautiful and winding drive through pine-covered mountains, Keith parks his trusty truck in the town square of Momostenango (Momo for short) – a place that none of us had ever before visited. This beautiful little mountain village is famous for its handmade woolen products – products such as blankets, ponchos, carpets, purses, etc… Taking our chances, while not having any concrete idea regarding specific market days, we simply show up, park the truck by a small fruit vendor, and begin to explore.

All local eyes immediately focus on our group. We appear to be the only gringos in town. Rather than being tourists ourselves, I instead feel as if we immediately become the main center of attraction. We are the tall, funny-looking, light-skinned fish swimming around in a glass bowl. The local Mayan people are the tourists, looking on with smiles and finger-pointing curiosity. I get the distinct feeling that these beautiful Mayans are not accustomed to seeing such a strange sight as us.

After a delightful breakfast of tortillas and cheese in the local market, we set out to discover just where the woolen goods might be found. We quickly learn that Saturday is not a market day for the local wool artisans – but we do not give up easily.

An hour later, after following a chain of synchronous events, we find ourselves being guided by a short middle-aged Mayan woman to a small family home about a twenty-minute walk outside the center of town. For close to three hours, we enjoy this extended family’s hospitality – watching the grandfather spin wool by hand – playing with the grandchildren – observing with fascination as family members show us how the various fabrics are made on the large assortment of various hand-operated wooden looms.

Several in our group purchase blankets, ponchos, and carpets. I am just along for the fascinating ride, thrilled to see that this large extended family is being rewarded for their generous hospitality.

But my heart tightens considerably as the price bargaining begins. A couple of members of our group are skilled bargainers. It breaks my heart to see them firmly haggle over prices – taking the purchase prices down to as low as one-third of the original quoted price. I think of how it takes an entire week’s worth of labor to make a single blanket – I ponder about how little profit these beautiful people must be making for their tedious labor – and I silently begin to judge my friends for seeming so heartless.

I know that these beautiful artisans would never sell their wares for prices in which they did not receive enough money to compensate their time and resources … yet I simultaneously experience a sense of repressed disappointment aimed at my friends.

The inner battle begins.

Xela or Bust

While I had eagerly looked forward to visiting Momo, I am also keeping a watchful but silent eye on the clock. My heart is interested in only two things. I want Rae to have an opportunity to film Keith purchasing some cacao at the Xela market, and I crave another beautiful and peaceful experience in the hot springs of Almolonga – the very same place where Keith and I had visited in early December – the energizing place about which I wrote in my blog entitled “Surrendering to Love”.

It is already after 1:30 p.m. when we bounce down pothole filled roads, descending the tall mountain where Momostenango is situated. The back of the truck is beginning to feel quite hot and uncomfortable. The victim in me begins to wonder if I will ever get a turn in the front seat. I quietly refuse to say anything about my growing discomfort. Instead, I just stuff my feelings, putting a pleasant smile on my face.

“Just get over it Brenda.” I gently tell myself with loving patience.

I begin to feel even more agitated as I realize that Keith has detoured for a tourist stop in another small mountain village on the way to Xela. The back of the truck is becoming uncomfortable – crowded by purchases, increasingly hotter, and bumpier as we pass over poorly-maintained pothole-filled roads. Adding to my state of growing discontent, Keith eagerly proceeds to take an unknown “shortcut” to Xela.

“We might get lost.” Keith announces as we begin the next leg of our journey.

For what feels like another hour, we bounce relentlessly over rocky dirt roads. The dust rushing in through the back window causes those of us in the bed of the truck to face two distinct choices: Eat dust or tolerate the stuffy heat. We choose the latter option.

Stuffing my emotions, I smile joyfully, and pretend to be having a good time. After all, the last thing I want to do is rock the boat. Making waves is just not in my nature.

Relief fills my soul as Keith finally parks at the large outdoor market in Xela. Solid ground and fresh air never felt so good. With frustrations successfully buried, the mask on my face feels happy and content.

Shoulder Ouchies

With the afternoon already half over, our whirlwind tour through the Xela market is quite brief. Some fruits and veggies are purchased, but the main prize is 225 pounds of cacao beans – a treasured payload that further cramps the already-tight wiggle-room in back.

Soon we are all rushing around the ‘Hiper Pais’ store and adjacent mall, using the ATM machine and grabbing a few quick food staples at this luxurious shopping opportunity. With my eyes still glancing nervously at the watch hidden in my pocket, I note that it is after 4:30 p.m. when we finally hit the roads on the way to the only segment of our journey that is calling deeply to my heart.

The next thirty minutes pushes my good nature to the limit. One person in the back of the truck is occupying nearly half of the space. Combining that fact with two large sacks of cacao beans, traveling conditions are extremely cramped. I keep a smile on my face and my mouth shut. I am determined to work through this growing discontent on my own, intuitively knowing that it is all an ‘inside job’.

By the time we pull into the hot springs at Almolonga, my squished body is extremely sore and my patience is wearing thin.

“My shoulder is absolutely killing me,” I grumble through a forced smile as I finally climb out the back of Keith’s truck, “I won’t be able to ride home like this.”

I am tired of sacrificing my comfort in the name of being nice and pleasant, but am also determined not to make waves. Again I push my emotional cork down securely as the discontent and judgment inside of my solar plexus continues to boil.

Such deep frustration profoundly confuses me, given that I am usually skilled at finding genuine peace and love in any situation, no matter how disconcerting it may seem.

“Why is this intense judgment surfacing now?” I ask myself, feeling thoroughly puzzled by the growing inner chatter.

I know in my heart that everything is OK – that I am merely projecting onto others – but a long suppressed part of me is waking up, demanding to be heard, refusing to be ignored any longer.

Hot Springs Anger

After a thirty minute wait, it is nearly 5:30 p.m. when we finally get a small concrete hot-tub room. Keith suggests that today must be some type of holiday or something, indicating that he has never seen the place so crowded.

I am eager to quietly slide into the hot relaxing water, wanting nothing more than to drink a little chocolate and sink into meditation. I am not in any way attached to repeating my previous amazing experience from early December – an experience that involved several hours of deep spiritual and meditative oneness – but I am definitely looking forward to a quiet relaxing peace.

“Can you please make the water a little cooler?” I beg Ambe as she hurriedly fills up the concrete tub with the hottest water possible. “I really can’t handle the extreme heat.”

“Trust me.” Ambe responds in a tone that I interpret as deeply condescending, inconsiderate and uncaring of my genuine request. “You will get used to the temperature soon, and the water will cool down on its own.”

“I know my body.” I reply with weak power. “I do not do well in extremely hot water. I need it to be cooler or I won’t be able to tolerate it.”

I feel as if Ambe completely ignores me, continuing to fill up the tub in her own way. To make matters worse, I am sitting in the corner nearest to the rushing faucet. My whole body is burning and I can barely breathe, but I again stuff my feelings, opting to wait for a few minutes to see if I can somehow find a way to tolerate the extremely unpleasant experience.

Keith soon walks into the room, takes one look at my stress-filled face, and asks if I want to trade him places. He will sit in the corner while I sit further away from the faucet, over on the steps.

“Yes, please.” I respond quietly.

I am beginning to emotionally shut down.

As I move over to sit on the steps, I am so incredibly angry that I can hardly look anyone in the eye. I know in my heart that my fury is an “inside job” – that it is a deeply-rooted, self-directed anger projected outward. With this knowing in mind, I am determined to not make a scene – determined to stuff the feelings down until a later time where I can deal with the emotion safely.

“If I try to say any more right now,” I think to myself, “I might just explode into angry tears, launching hurtful statements all over everyone that I love. I simply won’t allow myself to do that.”

Seeing my discomfort, Keith fully opens the cold water tap as the tub continues to fill. Ambe again turns off the cold, continuing to fill the tub with hotter water.

“The cold water tap is under water.” Ambe points out to Keith, while holding a small round plastic tub in her hand. “We won’t be able to fill the tub with cold water to dump it over our heads.”

“If you would allow the water in the pool to be a little cooler,” I angrily jab back, “you wouldn’t need to be pouring cold water over your head.”

Shocked by my brief slip of expressed sarcasm, I shut my mouth tightly, and slip up two steps higher. The water is so hot that I can no longer sit with my whole body in the pool. The skin on my face feels as if I have been scalded by hot steam. To me, the temperature is increasingly intolerable.

By now, I am completely shut down emotionally. Anger rages inside. Using my hands to cover my eyes, I simply stare slightly down and forward, refusing to look anyone in the eye, not even Keith. My intense emotion is accompanied by confusion, victimization, resentment, and embarrassment. I am terrified that my emotions might explode all over everyone, making a huge mess that I will never be able to clean up. I go into a deeper state of shutdown, desperately trying to stuff, to bury, to push all of the unwanted emotion back down to where it came from.

Even when I move to the very top step, with only my ankles and feet in the water, my face is so hot that I can hardly tolerate the heat.

“Does anyone mind if I add more hot water to the pool?” Ambe asks quietly, indicating that the pool is getting too cold for her.

One by one, everyone indicates that they are OK with that idea. My response is to mumble a muffled “go ahead” while punctuating my anger by climbing completely out of the pool. I still cannot handle the heat, but feel as if my feelings literally do not matter to anyone. I sit pouting with my back to the wall, hands over my eyes, my head bent over my knees, simply staring at the ground while trying to understand and control my anger.

I wish I could run away, requesting my own private hot-tub room. I would fill the tub with a tolerable temperature and simply sit in meditative silence.

But the Universe has made getting my own room impossible. The hallway outside is packed with people waiting for a free room to become available – waiting for their own turns in the relaxing hot waters.

Whenever I peek through the slits in my fingers, I notice that Keith is sitting quietly at the far side of the pool, relaxing in deep meditation. The others are moving around as if I were not there. I do not necessarily know who is making the noise, but the room is filled with what feels to me like incessant, almost mindless chatter. Deep resentment builds in my heart – resentment that is aimed directly at Ambe and even Moses. It breaks my heart that I am projecting such anger onto my friends.

New Power, New Voice

“Brenda, I am following your emotions very closely.” Keith finally interrupts during a brief moment when no one else is talking. There is a strong emotional blockage building in your abdomen. I am being guided to advise you that you need to make a little noise in order to help release that blockage.”

“I don’t feel like it.” I whine back. “I can’t do it … I don’t want to do it.”

For what must be at least an hour, I sit numbly staring at the floor, emotions boiling uncontrollably inside.

Finally, I have had enough of my self pity and wallowing. I feebly attempt what Keith asked me to do – I try to use my voice to express my feelings.

“ooohhhhmmmm,” I weakly sound in a way that is barely audible.

I hear the noisy room go silent. For the first time all evening, I feel as if others are respecting my needs and feelings.

“OOooohhhhhhmmmmm,” I again sound in a low alto note, barely resonating with a tiny bit more power, my voice still slightly shaky.

Soon, the others in the pool begin to sound and chant with me. As they do so, I get louder and increasingly more powerful.

After a few minutes, as my breath weakens, I take a brief pause. Most people in the room soon return to noisy chatter.

In anger, I burst out a powerful “OOOOHHHHHMMMMMM”, attempting to drown out what I consider to be extremely inconsiderate noise. I want to be heard. I want to have a spiritual experience. I am angry at those who seem determined to ignore my needs.

The others in the room again respond, joining me in beautiful harmonious toning and chanting – amazing sounds that go on for nearly ten minutes.

As the sounds gradually die down, many of the others again begin talking and partying loudly.

“OOOHHHMMM,” I begin again … but this time I can hardly get the sound out. My belly begins to shake with angry rage as sobbing tears attempt to burst forth. I am determined to NOT express my anger via words or tears. As soon as I can control the surging emotion, I again replace the tears with a loud and forceful “OOOHHHMMM.”

Repeatedly, the tears attempt to overwhelm me. Each time as my belly begins to shake I gradually convert the emotion back into a powerful expression of verbal toning. When the conversational noise in the room again begins to go up, I increase my volume as a way of expressing my emotion and power. I am tired of being silent. I am weary of allowing my needs to go un-noticed and un-respected. I love the newfound power that is billowing inside of me – power that is demanding expression, demanding respect.

For another thirty minutes or so, I sit in silence, ignoring the room’s return to noise, allowing higher vibration energies of light to filter into my soul. I invite the light to fill my empty spaces, to transmute the anger that has now mostly converted to peace and powerful unconditional love.

I have absolutely no desire to speak with anyone. Continuing to sit on the floor with my eyes closed, I simply meditate while some others in the pool talk incessantly.

I am no longer the victim. I feel strangely empowered, satisfyingly filled with new courage, having found a new way to process emotions, to move beyond my anger. Without stepping on any toes, I simply do what I want, doing it with power and conviction, doing it without fear of what anyone else might think.

Something inside has shifted, but I am not yet sure just what it might be. It is like a small crack has been opened up in a very thick and invisible wall.

When I overhear others begin to talk about leaving, I quietly get up, grab my things, and walk silently down to the restroom to change. I am happy and peaceful, but I simply want to invisibly integrate what just happened.

Unexpected Guidance

“Brenda,” Keith apologizes lovingly in the parking lot. “I’m sorry for remaining mostly silent tonight – but I need to explain. This morning, even before we began our trip, I was guided that uncomfortable things might happen today. My guides did not give me any clarity on exactly what that might mean, but I was definitely guided that I needed to stay out of the way and to allow whatever it was to simply occur unobstructed.”

“Thanks,” I tell Keith with a hug, “I am still not sure what it is, but I know that whatever I am dealing with is deeply rooted at my core. I know that things happened tonight exactly the way they needed to happen. I feel new growth and new power emerging inside of me.”

Later, as I attempt to climb into the back of the truck, Moses asks me to sit in the front, indicating that I will be more comfortable there.

“I hope you don’t mind,” I tell Keith, “but I need to be in silence. I am not ready to talk about anything that happened today. I need time to integrate, to feel, to meditate, and to seek understanding.”

“Tomorrow, I will do what I want to do”, I continue speaking to Keith. “It is highly unlikely that I will come to the chocolate ceremony. I need to stay home for a day – to take care of me, to write and to be in silence. I don’t think I am capable of helping others until I help myself first.”

Silence is Golden

I do not utter more than a few sentences during the entire trip home. As Rae and Skye are preparing for bed, I momentarily walk into their room. After apologizing for my still-confusing emotional outbursts, I explain that I am actually in a very good place, but that I need to be in silence on Sunday. I am grateful for their unconditionally loving support as they promise to honor and respect my silence.

I go to sleep with three profound statements running through my mind – statements dealing with emotional struggles that appear to be rooted in relationships.

“It is never about the other person.”

“It is never about what it is about.”

“Nothing changes until you do.”

Yes, I know that my emotional pain today has absolutely nothing to do about anyone else. I am determined to look inward, to find the source of my projections, and to change my own inner beliefs.

I am not at all prepared for just how difficult this task will prove to be.

Silly Sunday Silence

Sunday begins as a day of reflection. Rather than writing, I opt to reread some of my own writings, hoping to refuel my heart. Later in the morning, I give myself permission to do nothing – to casually meditate – to listen to music – to simply lie in bed.

But to my surprise, as I meditate about what I really want to do with my day, my heart screams loudly “I want to go to the chocolate ceremony.”

With happy and stable emotions, I soon find myself sitting on Keith’s magical porch with a cute little note taped to my shirt reading, “In Silence.”

I do not know how long the silence will last, but I am committed to maintain it as long as my heart believes it to be necessary.

As Keith makes his introductions in what turns out to be a huge ceremony with 35 people crowded on the porch, he introduces me as one of his students who is capable of helping others.

“Brenda,” Keith asks me in front of the group, “will you be doing your own work today or will you be assisting others?”

“I will be assisting others.” I reply as others in the group gasp at the fact that I broke my silence.

“And I will be talking whenever I need to do so.” I add with a grin.

From that point on, my silence is pretty much history. The afternoon is amazing. Unconditional love overflows from my heart at every turn. I feel more tingling energy in my hands than I ever believed possible, and I receive considerable feedback that continues to aid me in building trust regarding my energy/intuitive connections.

I begin to recognize that whatever I cleared out last night did indeed fill me with a new confidence and a new sense of power. I cannot wait to see were this new growth leads.

Monday Meltdown

The roller coaster ride continues.

As Monday afternoon’s chocolate gathering commences on Keith’s porch, I feel a strong urge to pick up a large quartz crystal – the same “teacher crystal” that I held a few days ago.

As I stare into the crystal, meditating deeply on my feelings, a strong sense of knowing surges in my heart. The powerful intuition terrifies me, driving me into a state of inner panic, nearly pushing me back into the same state of shutdown that I experienced on Saturday night.

“I don’t want to do it!” I silently protest to the crystal.

I cannot explain why, but a strong sense of inner guidance is literally forcing me to return to the same empowered state that I felt at the end of the hot springs experience on Saturday night – but this time the intuitive knowing is guiding me to speak with words – insisting that I must actually express the judgmental feelings that are again unexpectedly surging through my veins with renewed intensity.

I recognize the entire situation as a setup created by the Universe, created for my own growth and empowerment by my Higher Self, but the emotions are so intense and so powerfully real that I am presently incapable of seeing through the eyes of love.

My unexpected buildup of judgment is projected onto Ambe and Moses. Part of the anger is related to my interpretation of their behavior on Saturday – an interpretation wildly insisting that their actions had been extremely inconsiderate and disrespectful. I am surprised by this residual anger. I had thought it to be already resolved.

The remainder of the anger toward Ambe and Moses is triggered by my perceptions of their behavior today in group.

*  *  *  *  *

NOTE – Please Read this clarification: As of this writing I have now fully let go of all of this anger and judgment. I love Ambe and Moses with all of my heart and believe that one reason I manifest them into my life was for the purpose of being beautiful triggers for me – triggers to show me areas of myself that I needed to look at and to heal. For this, I am deeply grateful.

In this writing I will not delve into further details regarding my projections onto Ambe and Moses. Suffice it to say that my judgments had been building for a few weeks.

Verbal Vomiting

“Speak your truth” I feel the crystal silently screaming to my heart as Keith finally brings the group focus to my seat.

“You don’t need to film this.” I tell Rae as I ask her to turn off her camera. I am terrified by what is about to come out of my mouth

“I’m dealing with my own shit.” I tell Keith after a long hesitation. “Inner lies are streaming around inside, begging me to project onto others … but this crystal is demanding that I need to learn to speak up – to speak my truth – so here goes …”

A sense of inner knowing tells me that Ambe and Moses need to hear what I have to say. I don’t know if my words are more for them or for me, but I know with all my heart that I have to say them.

Trying to remain respectful, I express my angry disappointment over the perceived behaviors that are bothering me. Between sentences, I frequently repeat phrases such as “I love you, but I am so angry at you!”

When I am done verbally vomiting, I feel horrible. I feel as if I have walked through a sacred temple wielding a sharp double-edge machete, shredding every sacred object in sight using the razor-sharp edges of my blade. I know that I have committed the cardinal sin. I am evil. I deserve to be punished. Yes, I will probably be banished from Keith’s porch forever.

The Muppet Show

I feel like a total fool as no one directly responds to my statements, neither denying them nor validating them. I almost feel angry at the non-response. I cannot seem to look anyone in the eye – especially not Ambe and Moses.

“They must hate me now.” I think to myself.

A minute later, one beautiful woman in the group congratulates me for having had the courage to speak my feelings. For more than an hour, Keith works directly with this woman as she delves into powerful work that was triggered by my own courageous outburst. Another woman also jumps up and thanks me, telling me that my words helped her too, in a very profound way.

Even with the feedback that my painful outburst has helped others, I continue to feel like an evil piece of worthless garbage.

As I continue to stew in my mental state of self-flogging, Keith wanders over in my direction. Ambe is now actively working with a woman on the other side of the circle as Keith silently maneuvers onto a bench directly behind my chair. With his right hand, Keith reaches around my shoulder and rests his bunched-up fingers all together in a small spot on my sternum, directly above my heart chakra. Then, after gently placing his left hand on mine, Keith simply sits in silence holding a high-vibration energy space for me.

Almost immediately, I picture myself in the audience of the Muppet Show, sitting with Statler and Waldorf, the two hilarious old men who are often portrayed as reviewing the stage show from a private balcony. I had first shared this metaphor with Conny while in Valladolid a year ago. During her visit last month, she had reminded me of how powerful it is for her to visualize unfolding events around her as simply being part of The Muppet Show – seeing them as unreal, as part of the illusion, as part of a stage play where everyone is merely playing their role.

Keith continues to silently hold space, not uttering a single word while I gradually return to a place of energized empowerment – little by little reconnecting to the life-giving flow of high-vibration energies that always bring me back to peaceful joy – little by little remembering that everything going on around me on this magical porch is a beautiful divine setup, giving me an opportunity to safely explore my growth and healing in a powerful way.

The Cardinal Sin

As Keith leaves me alone again, I am actually in a very positive and high-energy space, fully recognizing everything as a mere episode of The Muppet Show.

But my centeredness does not last. I slowly return to a feeling of “I need to be punished.” I began to remember the fear and emotion of my parents either washing my mouth out with soap or placing cayenne pepper on my tongue – something they often did when I expressed any flavor of angry words.

“I feel like I just shot the Pope.” I exclaim to Keith when he later asks how I am doing. “I feel like I have ruined everything … like I just need to run away and never come back … like I deserve severe punishment for expressing such anger.”

“Look into Ambe’s eyes.” Keith directs my gaze.

I can only briefly connect with Ambe’s beautiful loving eyes. I feel angry that she is showing me love – feeling as if her love cannot possibly be genuine.

“She is supposed to be mad at me – to punish me by withholding her love.” I think to myself with deep frustration. “She must just be faking it … or maybe I am the one who is a fake.”

Emotional numbness again consumes my soul as the two women whose powerful work I triggered run over to give me hugs, telling me again how much I helped them today. I begin to sob. I again think of running away … of never coming back to this magical porch. I cannot face my shame.

Parental Programming

“Brenda, scream into the pillow,” one of the women tells me as she places a foam cushion on my lap. Keith has momentarily left the porch to speak with someone at his gate.

“You are always telling me to just let the emotion out,” the woman continues, “so now it is your turn. Just let it out. Do it now.”

“I can’t do it.” I reply as I stare blankly at the pillow.

When Keith returns to the porch, he sits beside me and lightly places his hand on my back. Seconds later, I collapse forward, feeling like a little baby that simply wants throw a tantrum – wanting to cry and scream.

“I want a glass of water.” I think to myself.

This thought brings back deeply buried and long-forgotten childhood memories. I used to cry uncontrollably, and the only way my mother could get me to stop was if she offered me a glass of water. Somehow the cool wet water flowing through my mouth and down my throat always had a way of bringing me back to a place of comfort.

I immediately begin to sob – deep gut-wrenching screaming sobs. Again, I want to run away. I don’t want to be doing this. I feel so stupid, like a dramatic crybaby immersed in meaningless trauma drama.

“Brenda,” Keith speaks lovingly, “you are regressing into a period of your childhood when you were being programmed by your parents. This is very powerful work.”

Keith’s kind validating words are exactly what I need to hear – words giving me permission to allow myself to continue. I almost vomit as memories of my loving childhood conditioning flash through my awareness – memories of being taught to be a ‘Sunbeam’ – to be a good little helper who was happy, obedient and self-sacrificing.

Anger surges in my heart as I remember how I was lovingly coerced into believing that it is not OK to speak and/or defend my own truth if it conflicts with the deeply held beliefs of my parents.

“Oh my God!” I exclaim with shock after quietly meditating for a few minutes. “I did it to my own children!”

I break out in a new round of sobs as I bend back over the pillow, contemplating how I had programmed my own children in the very same way in which my parents taught me. The guilt and sorrow momentarily overwhelm me.

Highs and Lows

The rest of the day feels like a violent roller coaster ride.

By the time the Monday chocolate session is over, I feel deeply connected to the light. Love fills my heart and powerful energy radiates in my back as I assist others in their own healing processes.

But as I walk home, I again sink into disconnected despair and sadness. After a quick peanut butter and honey sandwich, I isolate myself in my room, sliding down the slippery-slope of self pity. I want to run away from San Marcos, never returning to Keith’s porch. I feel ashamed and humiliated.

I know the emotions are not real, but they are extremely powerful. Rather then fighting and suppressing the feelings, I allow them to surface, allowing them to run rampant through my consciousness. As I curl up in a fetal position, a little internal voice reassures me that all is exactly as it needs to be. Soon, I am fast asleep.

Basket Case

After blubbering my continued emotions all over Rae on Tuesday morning, I again return to my bed, sleeping numbly till early afternoon.

With a feeling of hopeful hopelessness, I finally walk over to my favorite porch for an afternoon private session that had been arranged through a late-night email – an email that was also a lonely and desperate cry for help on Keith’s normal day off.

“I feel as if I am drowning in quicksand.” I exclaim to Keith. “I know I am projecting … I know that my process is all an inside job … yet I seem totally incapable of dealing with this by myself. I am completely overwhelmed by the intensity of this emotion, on the edge of losing my mind.”

Keith attempts to help by guiding me to meditate on a basket.

“What do you find inside the basket?” Keith asks with love.

“The only thing I can find is a gun.” I respond glumly after a few minutes of feeling totally disconnected.

“I am not suicidal, yet I feel as if I deserve to be shot.” I mumble to Keith. “I still feel as if I need to be deeply punished for my angry outburst yesterday.”

I am a literal basket case. I am so disconnected from source that meditating for answers seems hopelessly futile.

Dancing Around The Edges

“Brenda,” Keith soon tells me, “I have been observing for a couple of weeks now as you seem to be increasingly dancing around the edges of what I believe to be a deeply rooted core issue.”

Keith goes on to explain that my behavior is very indicative of what people go through when they get close to uncovering their deepest fears and dysfunctional belief systems.

“What you need to do now,” Keith lovingly coaches me, “is to simply remain the observer – remaining detached from the emotions as you observe the patterns of your defense mechanisms – feelings such as wanting to project, to blame, to withdraw, to run away, or to just give up and never come back, etc.”

My sense of hope goes up considerably as Keith repeatedly reassures me that I am very close to some major breakthroughs – that my emotional extremes are very typical at this stage of deep growth. Our three-hour session is filled with mostly rational-mind discussion – discussion that I desperately crave to help quiet my mental self-judgment.

“Can you give me a hint as to what my core issues might be?” I ask Keith inquisitively, hoping he can shorten my extremely painful process.

A slight frown consumes my face as Keith simply reiterates his strong belief that I am very close to a breakthrough, but that the answers must flow through me.

The Waiting Game

As the first three days of February enter the record book, I gradually return to a state of emotional stability and strength.

The remainder of Tuesday proves difficult but uneventful. Powerful waves of emotions continue to crash down on my soul, but my discussions with Keith have locked me firmly into the role of observer. The powerful waves no longer not have power over my behavior. Instead, I simply observe impartially regarding how the emotions attempt to manipulate me.

Wednesday proves to be a beautiful day as I joyfully participate in another incredible chocolate ceremony – a ceremony in which I lovingly observe my judgments melt away to nothingness. I seem to find new internal power as I move around Keith’s magical porch, doing a little Reiki here, providing quiet loving support there. Profound gratitude and unconditional love for my dear friends completely overwhelms my heart and soul. My love for Ambe and Moses is deeply reaffirmed – I am so grateful for the way they had lovingly allowed me to project onto them during my deepest struggles.

Thursday also brings powerful growth – a day in which I practice writing in the midst of seeming ambient chaos. It is also a day of creative expression in which I again face what were once deep fears – fears replaced by the joy of uninhibitedly participating in yet another Ecstatic dance class taught by Ambe and Moses.

Given my peaceful state, I half begin to wonder if my current round of growth might perhaps be complete. The Universe must be laughing at my silly assumption. Unbeknownst to me, another tidal wave of growth is about to blind-side me on Friday.

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Top of the Class

February 4th, 2011

I watch in awe as Keith masterfully guides my dear friend through a long hour of deep inner child work. It is Sunday night, January 23. Keith is still going strong, even after a five-hour chocolate ceremony with twenty-five people crowded onto the tiny porch. What I learn tonight, simply by watching and observing this impromptu session, feels more valuable to me than three years of schooling.

Monday morning, my friend’s profound inner child work continues via private appointment. At one point during this three-hour session – a session in which I am honored to participate – I experience a personal memory flash that catches me off guard.

I can see the scene as if it were yesterday. I am an angry young child, rebelling as my mother attempts to force me to take a nap against my will. I had been happily playing with friends before being called in for my family tribunal. I feel annoyed and justified in throwing a tantrum.

“Why do I have to take a nap?” I demanded angrily. “I’m not tired. This is stupid.”

Crystal Curiosity
I cannot explain it. The crystal seems to be calling to me and I simply obey. This large chunk of elestial quartz has not exactly been my favorite playmate. Experience tells me that every time I hold it, my abdomen is soon rocking and rolling with unpleasant energy – energy that wants to be explored, to be understood.

“I guess I will be doing more personal work today.” I mumble to myself as I honor my inner guidance, placing the large crystal smack dab in the middle of my tummy. I am determined not to interrupt my friend’s powerful inner child work, but at the same time I am quite curious, willingly surrendering to my own unknown journey ahead.

Childhood Programming

During the afternoon group ceremony, I continue to hold the large elestial quartz crystal close to my tummy. The rumbling energy continues to echo in my belly.

Early on, Keith guides us into a familiar meditation in which we visualize a basket in front of us. In my basket, the only thing I can feel is a small black rock – perhaps two inches in diameter. As I metaphorically reach into the basket and grasp the dark stone in my fingers, I notice that the black roundish rock suddenly transforms into a small quartz crystal – yet if I set it back down into the basket, the crystal again reverts to a small black rock.

The whole exercise seems silly, like pure imagination, yet I mentally grasp onto the one idea that flashes through my mind: “What seems to be a plain and ordinary stone will transform into a treasure if I pick it up and examine it.”

The first thing that comes to mind is a flashback from this morning – the powerful memory of me throwing a tantrum in the living room of my childhood home. I am extremely angry at being forced to take a nap. Prior to this moment, I was not the least bit tired or ornery. My parents are forcing me to follow a rule that makes absolutely no sense to my playful and innocent mind. I protest angrily. I don’t want to obey such a stupid rule just because my parents say so.

Then another memory enters my mind – something I have not thought about for a very long time. I recall that as a very young child I often felt extremely frustrated about having to go to church every Sunday. I didn’t like always going to church. The many weekly meetings were so stuffy and boring. Whenever I verbally complained, I was “lovingly coerced” to see things differently – for my own good, of course.

Almost immediately, a Mormon children’s song flashes into my mind. Just this morning I had woken up to the music of this very song. One of my neighbors was playing it loudly down below the kitchen window – in Spanish of course. As I listened, I had done a silly dance around the kitchen, singing the words with giggles while Rae looked on with a huge smile.

“Jesus wants me for a sunbeam, to shine for him each day. In every way try to please him, at home, at school, at play. A sunbeam, a sunbeam, Jesus wants me for a sunbeam. A sunbeam, a sunbeam, I’ll be a sunbeam for him.”

I have long understood my childhood programming at the rational level – but for the first time in my life, I begin to go much deeper into an emotional understanding of the manner in which I was taught to be a conforming citizen.

Tears form in the corner of my eyes as anger begins to swell in my heart – anger at how my magic was squashed – anger at somehow being “broken” like a horse.

“Rip up the floor boards – go deeper – go down another level.” Keith tells me as I describe the insights that are currently flowing through my mind.

A Fatherly Clone

With continued meditation, I follow a chain of seeming-unrelated memories: I notice that my intestines are churning even more wildly with the increased emotion – A memory pops into my head regarding how raw potatoes cause me to develop horrible smelling intestinal gas – I remember that my father is the one who taught me to eat raw potatoes.

“Perhaps if I examine my relationship with my father,” I ponder with a flash of insight, “just maybe I will find the treasure of insight into something that currently seems so plain and ordinary.”

I profoundly love my father. While he rarely expressed his love in the form of hugs and intimate words, I always knew that he loved me with all of his heart. Through his devoted example, he taught me to work hard, to serve others, to be even tempered, to never fight or argue, to never express anger, to love the outdoors, to sacrifice self for the good of others, to value education, to use my intellect, to finish tasks, etc…

As I ponder further, I begin to realize that I have never questioned the wisdom of any of these powerful lessons. On deeper examination, I recognize that not all of these wise character lessons have served me. The values that really start to jump out at me are ones such as being even-tempered, never expressing anger, sacrificing my self for the benefit of others, and always finishing everything I start, even if my heart is no longer in the task.

“But those are all good traits!” I remind myself.

“No they aren’t.” I counter. “Not when taken to unhealthy extremes.”

Sacrificing myself – sacrificing my own needs – is one of my most dysfunctional traits. Being afraid to express my true self – my true feelings – in ways that may seem controversial to others is also right up there at the top of the list.

“I have spent my entire life trying to be my father.” I suddenly exclaim to Keith. “Most of my most positive traits come from attempting to subconsciously emulate my dear father … yet most of my continued emotional dysfunction is also profoundly related to that same quest.”

“Now is the time to begin questioning every element of my childhood conditioning.” I tell myself in deep meditation. “Now is the time to peel back yet another layer of beliefs – beliefs that falsely define who I am and why I am that way.”

The deep inner exploration is ongoing. The treasure is beginning to reveal itself.

Premonition of Growth

Three days pass quite peacefully – days in which I write, engage in delightful conversations with Rae, and continue to explore my budding intuitions as a healer on Keith’s porch.

I expect Thursday, January 27, to be a continuation of the easy flow. As I sit in an afternoon chocolate gathering, a beautiful smoky quartz crystal grabs my fancy. The crystal silently begs me to hold it.

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts unexpectedly, “there is a reason you chose that crystal today. It is a teacher crystal, and it is going to teach you something today – pay close attention.”

“I guess I am in for more growth.” I giggle silently.

Bottom of the Class

While engaging in deep meditative thought, continuing to stare into the beautiful quartz crystal, I begin to realize that today’s lesson will be somehow related to the process of opening up my heart to yet another level of understanding.

As I contemplate just what that new level of understanding might be, I begin to feel quite inadequate in fulfilling the goal. Actually the word “intimidated” might be a more accurate description of my emotion.

As I look around the circle, I recognize that I am surrounded by people for whom deep and magical energy connections seem to be as easy as eating or breathing. Yes, of course these other beautiful souls on Keith’s porch are still learning to recognize and to utilize their magical healing abilities – but they make much of the process look so simple and easy once they get the hang of it.

Even more humbling is that many of those who simply walk in off the street seem to have more energy awareness and skills than do I. Many of them are less than half my age – beautiful young people who have been born into the world with empathic gifts that, once understood and developed, will enable them to be powerful healers.

“Smallness” consumes my soul. I begin to feel as if I belong in the remedial section of the “energy 101 class for dummies.” When looking in a comparative mirror, I see myself as a failing student in a class full of geniuses.

A Differing Perspective

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “hold your hands out in front of you. In one hand, imagine yourself as a failure, at the bottom of the class for dummies. In the other hand, imagine yourself as a top student, at the head of your class.”

Keith then repeatedly guides me into experiencing the emotions of each extreme, back and forth. I cycle into tears as I allow myself to feel one extreme, then I slide into love and confidence as I experience the other. Over and over, Keith has me visualize and experience the emotions of these two extremes, each time having me return to a centered place in the middle of the pendulum swing.

Again, Keith invites me to experience being at the top of the class, telling me that while I am there I will be given a gift.

“What gift do you find?” Keith asks with curiosity.

“It is a gold star on my forehead.” I respond with a giggle as I visualize my teacher placing the small sticky star just above my third eye chakra.

“Go back again and you will get another gift.” Keith guides me further.

As I renter the meditation to look for my next gift, I am overwhelmed with a feeling of deep unconditional love.

“And you recognize this gift as love.” Keith almost immediately interjects before I even have a chance to express what I am feeling.

Amazingly, I no longer feel small. With a heart overflowing with unconditional love, I know that I am exactly who I was meant to be – that yes, I am different in my own special ways – that my own unique gifts will yet bring light and blessings to this beautiful world.

A Different Kind of Music

A song instantly flashes into my mind – a very different and unique song from one of my favorite Christmas albums. It is a story-telling song titled “Handel’s Dream” found on Michael McLean’s “The Forgotten Carol’s” album.

In the beautiful little story, the great composer Handel is said to have a dream that he is a tiny angel in heaven. He hears that there will be an audition for angels to sing at the announcement of Christ’s birth. Desperately wanting to be a part of the glorious choir, the young angel auditions, singing his heart out. But he is lovingly turned away for a very obvious reason – he cannot sing.

Later in the story, the little angel discovers that his heart is filled with beautiful music. The heavenly choir master lovingly reassures the little angel that even though he cannot sing in the choir, that his time will come – that his music will be sung around the world. The story finishes with a medley of some of Handel’s most famous music.

As I ponder the beautiful story in my heart, I am filled with joyful realization – realization telling me that I am not meant to be one of the choir of gifted empaths that are so commonly attracted to Keith’s porch – realization telling me that I have my own unique healing gifts that I will one day share with the world in my own beautiful way.

With a heart overflowing with pure unconditional love, I stop comparing myself to others. The only thing I need do is to continue opening my own beautiful heart, continuing to let my own unique light flow through my veins.

Dance Delight

My worst nightmare is now an opportunity to express joyful loving self-confidence. Just minutes after ending Thursday afternoon’s powerful session on Keith’s porch, I find myself participating in an “Ecstatic Dance” class taught by none other than Ambe and Moses. They have reserved the large outdoor palapa (grass-roof-covered patio area) at a local hotel.

As I glance around at the more than twenty participants, I do not feel the least bit intimidated. The “old me” would have made a complete fool of myself. The “real me” simply laughs in the face of my biggest fear.

Before the guided, free-flowing dance experience begins, Ambe asks everyone to briefly check in, sharing names along with a little about where they are at with the experience. When my turn arrives, I publicly announce that “I am laughing in the face of my worst nightmare.”

I am quite proud of myself as the evening progresses. Filled with love and confidence, I do not have the slightest concern regarding what anyone else might be thinking. At times I whirl barefooted around the concrete floor with my eyes wide open, a smile on my face, and a giggle in my heart. At times, I close my eyes and simply shift my movements into an uninhibited meditation. My physical movements may not be considered graceful by professional dance critics, but my heart deeply applauds an internal display of graceful and loving confidence.

We finish the evening in much the same way that we began – once again circled up in a short round of sharing. When my turn arrives, I jokingly announce that I am frustrated by the fact that no one laughed at me. In response, most of the group lovingly chuckles at my confident words. I look across the patio at Keith, who responds to my quick glance with a huge grin and two thumbs up.

When another young woman takes her turn to share, she is moved to emotional tears. I recognize her as a beautiful young empath who occupied a seat on Keith’s porch just yesterday. Briefly hesitating, wondering what my role might be in the process, I watch with peace as Ambe and Moses invite the young woman to the front of the patio. Without hesitation, I know exactly what my role will be. I confidently scoot to the front of the circle, sitting directly in front of the young woman, holding her hands while staring into her eyes with a love-filled gaze. Soon, the remainder of the group has also moved forward, everyone connecting with each other – connected both with energizing love and with physical touch.

As the young woman continues her heart-felt crying, I simply stare into her eyes, holding a loving presence. The rest of the group remains silent. After a few minutes, I begin to gently sound a soft and confident “ooohhmmm”. Soon, the entire group joins in with beautiful harmony. Before long, the entire room, including the young woman, is giggling with joy and connection. I am humbled and deeply grateful for the opportunity to play a small role in what I recognize to be but a small portion of the unique inner music that is beginning to blossom inside of me.

Celebrating Growth

The evening is far from over. Keith, Ambe, Moses, Rae, Rae’s sister Skye, and myself all go out for dinner and visiting. A new aliveness is bubbling in my soul – a feeling of being high on life.

On Friday, January 28, I attempt to do some writing, but my heart strongly dictates, “No, you will spend the morning having a fun discussion with Rae and Skye.”

Skye had showed up on Wednesday, announcing her desire to share a room with Rae while she figures out what she wants to do in her own travels. With peace in my heart, I joyfully replied, “You are welcome here anytime, but the decision will be between you and Rae, since it is the two of you who will be sharing a room together.

In the afternoon chocolate ceremony, my heart is filled with deep, overflowing, unconditional love.

My newfound confidence in “dancing as if no one is watching” is spilling over into all aspects of my life. As I begin to feel more comfortable in my skin as Keith’s student healer, I lovingly recognize that my job is not to copy the healing techniques of others. Instead, my job is to do what comes naturally for me – to do what flows from within the music of my own heart. With all of my essence, I realize that I need simply surrender – surrendering to my heart – radiating unconditional love and responding to situations only when my heart guides me do or say something.

Celebrating a New Roommate

To my delight, as I arrive home from Keith’s porch, I discover that Rae and Skye have prepared a delicious meal. Dinner conversation is delightful and loving energy abounds. While I am busy chewing away on the final bites of my second soft-shelled taco, Skye looks up excitedly at her sister.

“Rae,” Skye announces joyfully, “I think I am staying.”

As the two beautiful sisters exchange hugs, I throw in my own two cents, “Skye, I am delighted to have you here. It is going to be a fun journey together.”

Later, as Rae and I have a quiet late-evening chat, she checks in with me one more time, wanting to be sure that I am OK with the new living arrangements.

“As long as you are happy, I am happy.” I respond. “My heart is overflowing with love and peace. The whole situation just feels right.”

I am so blessed to now have two beautiful roommates.

Top of the Class

As I prepare for sleep on Friday evening, my heart is indeed glowing with love and confidence. There is no doubt in my mind that I am indeed graduating at the top of my class.

It is not a large class, being simply a class of one – a class uniquely designed for me by my own higher self. No comparisons are needed and no grades will be given out. Mine is a gentle and loving class, a class where I need simply learn to be my true and genuine self.

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Dance As If No One Is Watching

January 25th, 2011

 
“It is with a flight of monarchs in my belly that I write to you. I truly hope it reaches you. I’ve never written to anyone’s blog before …”

These are the first words I ever read from Rae … and now, through a beautiful flow of amazing synchronicities, she is my new roommate. Energizing shivers pulse through my spine as I attempt to capture the story in words – words that are so inadequate in describing the joyful feelings that fill my heart.

For me, the story goes back four months – back to the beautiful introductory comment that Rae posted on my September 19th blog entitled “Sun Silence: Chocolate Decisions.”

For Rae, the synchronous story goes back three years to a travel adventure of her own – an adventure that began with a ten-day Vipassana meditation retreat – an adventure where she later unexpectedly found herself stranded in Bocas del Toro, a small island off the Caribbean coast of Panama. Rae had lost her bank card and ended up living and working on the island for a few months while waiting for a replacement card to arrive. During her time living in that beautiful island paradise, Rae met a woman who told her about San Marcos and the pyramids meditation center.

Sound familiar?

Two months later, Rae found herself on a small lancha, surrounded by towering volcanoes while gliding across the deep-blue waters of Lake Atitlan. As she took her first steps on the shores of San Marcos, Rae knew in her heart that she was here for a reason. During her memorable time in San Marcos, Rae participated in two chocolate ceremonies with Keith – experiences that impacted her life greatly.

Full Circle

Nearly three years later, new dreams bubbled in Rae’s heart – dreams that guided her to enroll in a documentary film-making program at a University in Ottowa, Canada – dreams that passionately called her to return to San Marcos, to spend more time learning and healing with the Chocolate Shaman while at the same time filming a small documentary surrounding the amazing intuitive work that Keith does.

While performing a deep internet search, hoping to find some way to contact Keith, Rae stumbled across my blog and posted her first heartfelt comment. With great delight, I began to correspond with Rae, while also putting her in direct contact with Keith. In early November, Rae composed a joyous email excitedly announcing that her scholarship application had been approved. She would be arriving here in San Marcos in mid January.

In early December, with energy tingling through my soul, I followed an internal guidance of my own. While trying to decide whether or not to move into a smaller one bedroom apartment at around Christmas time, a strong sense of knowing gently but energetically whispered: “Keep the two bedroom apartment … you will need it … you need to offer the space to Rae when she arrives.”

I find the timing to be quite amazing. Just last week my, my own synchronous journey to San Marcos came full circle as my dear friend Conny came to visit me. Now, just a few days later, Rae’s own journey has also brought her back to the beautiful shores of San Marcos.

I feel deeply delighted and honored to have Rae as my new roommate, and I cannot wait to get to know her better. A whole host of little Jedi voices inside my heart are whispering quite loudly that these next two months are going to be very powerful and profound for everyone involved.

Chocolate Intros

The process has been in motion for many months. Keith’s helper, Isaias, has developed a friendship with a young Mayan man who lives in a small village situated in the mountains just a couple of hours away from San Marcos.

Every twenty days, Isaias travels to the village so that he can perform a Mayan ceremony in honor of his Nagual in the Mayan calendar. Isaias performs his ceremony with the help of his friend’s two older sisters, both of which are Mayan shamans, perhaps more appropriately called Mayan priestesses.

A few months ago, Isaias’s friend came to San Marcos and sat on Keith’s porch, participating in a small chocolate ceremony. It so happens that this was a “first” for Isaias’s friend in two ways – it was his first time drinking cacao and it was his first experience ever spending time around foreigners.

As a result of the experience, Keith was eventually invited to do a small cacao ceremony with the two Mayan women. Even though cacao is believed to have been one of the “Gods” of the ancient Mayan people, its ceremonial use in Mayan tradition has been lost to this beautiful culture – lost for hundreds of years.

In his trip to the village in late December, Keith had two primary hopes – the first being to develop a friendship with these two beautiful women while showing them how he himself uses cacao to help others connect with their own higher energies – the second being a deep hope that the process might somehow inspire these two women to rediscover their own spiritual roots with cacao. Perhaps the process may even be a small step in helping other Mayan spiritual leaders to reconnect with an amazing force from their past.

That trip was a beautiful experience for Keith, resulting in an invitation for him to return.

“Brenda,” Keith told me eagerly on the day after he returned to San Marcos, “Reserve January 18 on your calendar – you will be going back to the village with me.”

Simple Abundance

Shortly after 6:00 a.m. on Tuesday, January 18, we squeeze into the crowded back of a little pickup – a small public transport that happens to be headed in the direction of San Pablo. Keith’s friends Ambe and Moses also join us, as well as my new roommate Rae – who of course brings along her video camera.

In San Pablo we wait eagerly for our first bus connection. Nearly two hours later, after two crowded buses and a short ride in a tuk-tuk, we finally arrive at our destination – a peaceful little village nestled among the beautiful mountains of Guatemala.

To protect the privacy of these beautiful people, I will keep my comments brief, not sharing any identifying details.

As we enter the home of Isaias’s friend, we are greeted with profound love and hospitality. Counting Isaias and his young wife, there are seven of us seated in a small circle of plastic lawn chairs. One of the beautiful Mayan women serves us sweet breads and some type of hot grain drink (the name escapes me).

The room, perhaps fifteen by thirty feet in dimension, has a dry, lumpy, dirt floor, being lit only by warm rays of morning sunlight that filters through the open door. Two double beds fill the corners behind me. At the far end of the room is a small eight foot square area that is curtained off by colorful fabric. I can only assume that this area is another small sleeping space.

When I ask to use a bathroom, I am not at all surprised when Isaias hands me a roll of toilet paper and leads me outside. The seventy-five foot stroll leads me across a small stretch of cornfield, already harvested, now parched in the middle of the dry season. Just before reaching the small outhouse, I dance skillfully around a selection of cow-pies while cautiously maneuvering past two peaceful bulls that are tied up along the path, barely ten feet before my intended destination. I giggle as I carefully close the small wooden door behind me. The board walls of the outhouse only go up about four feet above the ground, and between each six-inch-wide board is a one inch gap – allowing for plenty of air and light to pass through.

An old wood stove is the main gathering point in an adjacent building that houses a traditional Mayan kitchen – a kitchen that has the luxury of a concrete floor. Across the yard is another wooden structure – a small shop where the women’s father builds Marimbas. Guatemala is famous for these beautiful wooden hand-made xylophones.

A darling little 94 year old grandma sits on a small wooden chair out in the shade, near a small outdoor sink area in which clothes and dishes are washed. She wears the most brilliant of colors, and has the cutest hat – a light-tan stiff-brimmed straw hat decorated with bright colors and little homemade ornaments that dangle from the wide brim.

I am in love with the family, the children, the grandma, the land, the surrounding mountains, and the simplicity-filled abundance. These beautiful people have everything they need.

Tale of Two Ceremonies

It is mid-morning as the valley floor disappears from view. After a breath-taking and breath-consuming fifteen-minute hike up a neighboring hillside, we crest a small hill, leave the trail, and step into a small clearing surrounded by trees. In the center of the ceremonial space is a tiny fire pit. On the far side is a home-made stone altar. The soil around the center is black and mixed with ash, the result of many sacred fire ceremonies. There is barely room for nine of us to sit around the edges of the small circle. I am lucky enough to have a young tree to support my back as I sit cross-legged above a pile of dry pine needles. Anticipation fills my heart as the ceremony begins.

The mechanics of the fire-ceremony itself are very similar to others that I have experienced in Guatemala – but today is special. This is not a noisy gathering for tourists – this is a quiet and reverent ceremony to honor and celebrate Isaias’s Nagual – a special ceremony performed by a local Mayan woman who works from deeply within her heart. A beautiful energy fills our space – an energy of genuine love – an energy of deep connection to the divine.

Several hours later, the final flames of the small fire dance into oblivion, disappearing in a tiny puff of smoke that soon drifts away in the light breeze. After exchanging hugs, our feet soon scurry along a narrow trail, taking us back toward our starting point, back to the valley floor below. Seconds later, we again view the gorgeous vista of the isolated valley. The valley floor is lightly covered by a puffy-white mist – a light layer of smoke created by cooking fires, one of which was used to cook our delicious lunch.

And a delicious lunch it is – a heaping bowl of chicken soup, consisting of a very flavorful broth, a large chunk of chicken breast, and several large portions of boiled vegetables.

Shortly after 2:30 p.m., we begin a second ceremony, a ceremony in which Keith serves chocolate, not only to the two Mayan women and Isaias’s friend – but also to the women’s mother, their beautiful grandmother, and to many of the young children. Of course, the children are only given very small amounts of the chocolate magic.

For a couple of hours, Keith works with the two women, using Isaias as a translator. Both are gifted in their energy connections. One has struggled through much of her life with the confusing dilemma of being an empath – someone who deeply feels and internalizes the emotional densities of others. I am thrilled with the occasional opportunity to participate, and even more blessed by the opportunity to share rare hugs and emotion with these beautiful Mayan women. Before today, I have never witnessed a Mayan woman express such emotion. I am honored to be in their presence.

As darkness begins to fall, a taxi whisks us away on the first leg of our return journey. Soon, twenty-seven of us are packed in a fifteen passenger van, zooming down one of Guatemala’s mountain highways – Rae and Ambe stand in the doorway, hanging onto the roof-rack while allowing their bodies to catch the cool evening air. Our next bus is large and roomy, with plenty of space to stretch out.

A couple of hours later, as I again step across the threshold of my doorway in San Marcos, I am bubbling with renewed anticipation. The two Mayan women have invited us to return in a few weeks. I am eager and excited to see what happens next. 

Joyous Interludes

“Brenda?”

As I heard my name, I stopped suddenly, turned around, and looked into the eyes of a tall, thin, blond-haired young woman. I had never met her before in this lifetime, yet her face resonated a very familiar energy.

“Rae?” I replied with a giggle, quickly running over to give her a welcoming hug.

It was Friday night of last week. Rae was showing her father around San Marcos and I was headed to an impromptu dinner with Conny and Anjili, less than thirty minutes after finishing an amazing session Keith – the very session where I first began to feel my feet fill with energy – energy that continues to increase on a daily basis.

Rae’s father and sister had accompanied her on the first leg of her trip, so she would not be moving in with me until her family moved on.

This week has shaped up to be quite beautiful. Twenty-four people came to the chocolate ceremony on Sunday – a ceremony that brought with it a powerful energy of loving connections and profound emotional release. That was Rae’s first chocolate ceremony since returning to San Marcos.

I laughed inside as Keith was chatting with the group while they drank their chocolate. He began to mention casually that a woman was coming to San Marcos to film a documentary – and that she was probably already somewhere at the lake by now.

“Uh, Keith,” I giggled as I reached over and tapped him on the knee, “she is right here.”

When I pointed to Rae, Keith jumped out of his seat to give her a hug of his own

On Monday, I followed internal guidance that took me in a different direction – to a small drum circle ceremony in the house of my friend Michelle. But as the ceremony ended, and as conversation unfolded, a strongly distracted energy tugged at my heart, telling me that I did not belong here, that I needed to go back to Keith’s.

Feeling quite awkward, I excused myself from the conversation, told Michelle that I needed to leave, and hurried toward Keith’s porch. Upon arriving at my favorite magical playground, dear Ambe was going through a deep emotional release of her own. With eyes closed, she was shedding a few powerful tears while working with Keith.

“I was wishing Brenda’s energy was here to help me,” Ambe suddenly blurted out as she opened her tear-filled eyes, “and now here she is.”

My heart smiled inside as I clearly recognized that I was now where I needed to be

On Wednesday, the very morning after a beautiful exchange of ceremonies in a tiny mountain village, I returned to more worldly pursuits as I made a hurried trip to Panajachel for money and food supplies. I had been so busy with friends – old friends and new friends – that I had nearly run out of money and other basics.

Again, for the fourth day this week, I was blessed with the opportunity to hone my healing intuitions – to practice following my inner guidance – to fill my heart with love as I learn to share that heart energy with others.

A New Energy

Thursday morning, as I begin to focus on some writing, I am delighted to spot Rae walking up to my patio door, carrying a few of her belongings.

“Can I move my stuff in this morning?” Rae asks eagerly as I swing the door open in front of her. Her family has now left the area and she is anxious to settle in for the next phase of her own journey.

My face grins widely as I invite my new roommate to make herself comfortable. Just being around Rae’s presence seems to stir a dormant creative energy in my soul. A deep sense of inner knowing strongly stirs in my awareness. Rational mind is utterly clueless, but my soul advises me to fasten my seatbelt.

An Empty Hole

Feeling intuitively guided at the beginning of our Thursday afternoon chocolate-gathering, I pick up one of Keith’s crystals – a large cluster of “elestial quartz”. The beautiful crystal seems to be calling to me, begging me to place it over my lower abdomen.

As I do so, I gradually begin to feel a deeply agitated energy in the area of my second chakra – an energy causing both sharp pain and anxiousness.

In the midst of a guided meditation, I discover a deep black cave situated somewhere in my abdominal energy – a dark vertical hole into which I have absolutely no desire to venture. The physical pain increases as my belly begins to feel like a very active popcorn popper. The energy being agitated and stirred by the crystal brings with it a growing feeling of intense anxiety and fear.

“Ask the angels to help you transmute this dense energy.” Keith instructs me lovingly as I ask for guidance. “Don’t try to do it all by yourself.”

Tears stream down my cheeks as I struggle to connect with higher energies. For five or ten additional minutes I feel helpless and lost. At some level I know that this pain is associated with deeply suppressed energies and memories.

I don’t have the courage to go on alone.

“Will you be my angel?” I call out to Ambe as I glance at her across the circle through tear-filled eyes.

Soon, I am curled up on my right side, lying on foam cushions in the middle of the circle, with my head resting in Ambe’s lap. Her warm gentle hands softly caress my cheeks. Muffled tears continue to flow, while further intuitive insights elude me.

To my surprise, Moses soon feels guided to climb on top of me, laying the weight of his body on my left side, nearly smothering me with his gentle masculine energy. Ambe continues to cradle my head, twisting her fingers around dangling wisps of my hair.

“This is to help you achieve more balance between your masculine and feminine energies.” The little Jedi voices quietly whisper to my heart.

Soon, my heart again begins to glow with joy and love. I cannot say what changed inside – I have no rational understanding as to what may have shifted energetically – but the peace in my soul quietly reassures me that I am being gently guided through a very carefully orchestrated healing process – a process being carefully guided by my own Higher Self.

Twirling Terrors

Friday evening, after another magical afternoon on Keith’s porch, my heart stirs as Rae and I begin to share life stories and experiences over dinner.

I look at this beautiful twenty-five-year-old woman and see a creative master – someone filled with so much beauty and budding creativity – creativity just screaming to find an expressive canvas on which to blossom.

Then I look at myself, fifty-five years young, having spent the majority of those years hiding in the prison cells of self-limiting belief systems – cowering behind years of subconscious dysfunction, burying my creative instincts beneath layer after layer of emotional rubble. Yes, I have begun to crack open the steel vault doors of my creativity, but so much passion remains locked tightly behind walls of hidden and unidentified fear.

“I am going to love living around your creative energy” I giggle with Rae as I share my heart. “I intuitively feel as if some of your beautiful energy is about to rub off on me.”

Later that evening, after hours of heartfelt conversation, Rae puts on some music, turns off the lights, and begins to dance and twirl freely around the room.

“Come on Brenda,” Rae encourages me, “why don’t you get up and dance too?”

My heart skips a beat in sheer terror. Rae has unknowingly removed the lid from one of my worst nightmares.

I slowly rise to my feet, access my inner strength, and begin to awkwardly move my body. Even though Rae is not even looking in my direction, I feel like an uncoordinated freak. I have no idea what I am doing – no idea how to move gracefully. I imagine that the whole world is staring at me, laughing at me. I have personally experienced this terrifying scenario all too often – not in real life, but deep in my imagination. Tonight, my imagination again creates a frightening reality.

Rae’s loving energy gives me the courage to risk. In the darkness of night, I begin to move around the living room, gradually increasing in confidence.

As I later retire to my pillow, my emotions are calm, loving, and peaceful – but a part of me recognizes that I am just beginning to take the lid off my nightmares.

Paltry Pity Party

Writing is my primary goal for Saturday. I turn down an opportunity to play a little – to go to the market in nearby Santa Clara with Keith, Ambe, Moses, and Rae. I am determined to keep my writing up to date, to keep my passions alive. Yes, it feels right to do what is good for me, to pass by fun opportunities that do not speak to my heart.

As I stare at my keyboard, I first focus on the energy in my fingertips. I am amazed by how my energetic sensitivities have gradually increased. Next, I become aware of the distinct presence of vibrating energy in the arches of my feet. I ponder about my ongoing focus in relaxing these precious feet of mine – in allowing them to reconnect to the feminine and creative flow of energies from Mother Earth.

I again reflect on last night’s terrorizing fear of dancing – dancing in the darkness of my own living room while someone else was in the same room – someone who was not even watching.

I simply stare at the keyboard, patiently waiting for my fingers to begin typing – patiently wondering when the first key might be pressed.

But absolutely nothing happens – nothing of the creative variety that is.

Instead, fear and pity begin to consume me. Memories flood my mind – emotional memories that stick their prickly needles into my soft and tender heart. These are lifelong memories of stifled creativity, of feeling excessively stupid and inadequate, fearful of taking risks, horrified at the thought of showing something unique and original for fear I would be ridiculed and laughed at.

Yes, I know these fears are all lies – but their sharp claws are dug deeply into my soul. I cannot seem to shake them off – to break free of their clinging grasp. I remind myself regarding how far I have come, how much I have grown, how many fears I have embraced, faced, and overcome.

Still, I stare blankly at my untouched keyboard. Tears begin to swell in my eyes. For most of the next two hours I listen to music while curled up in the fetal position on my bed, crying lightly, mingled with the occasional sob of self-pity. Several times I force myself back to my laptop, muster my inner strength and tell myself that I am going to write. In each instance, I am soon back in bed without typing even a single letter.

Help Mister Wizard

I am quite surprised when Rae returns earlier than I expected. Attempting to hide the moisture in my eyes is not even worth the effort.

“Keith suggested that we should all get together this afternoon.” Rae cheerfully announces as she unpacks the treasures she brought home from the Santa Clara market. “He said that we should either come over to his house, or perhaps he, Ambe, and Moses might walk over here.”

The thought of visiting Keith cheers me up slightly. It has become quite clear that I am not going to write today. I remember a promise I made to myself in December – a promise not to write when my passions are not engaged.

Through waves of tears, I share my woe-is-me self-denigrating struggles with Rae – being sure to emphasize that I am fully aware of my pity party, that I know it is all based on lies, but that I am stuck there, seemingly unable to pry myself free from this toxic quicksand using my own strength.

By 12:30 p.m. I am walking onto Keith’s porch. I know Saturday is his day off, but the fact that social plans were suggested gives me the courage I need – the courage to face my fears, to admit my vulnerability, and to ask for help.

“I’m stuck and having a really hard time.” I blurt out through a fresh round of tears.

Divine Eyes

“I am not nauseous, but I feel like I need to vomit something out of my abdomen.” I exclaim through frightened sobs. “I’m terrified to go in there to take a look.”

The intense emotions run in waves. When I attempt to open the subconscious vault the terror and sobs begin. When I retreat to a safe distance, the fearful anxiety recedes.

“We don’t need to go in there today.” Keith reassures me.

“No, I want to do this.” I interrupt. “I am ready, I want to face my fears, I want to know what this is about.”

I am clueless as to the origin of my gut-wrenching terror. I know it is deeply related to teenage social fears – of self-loathing, self-judgment, self-ridicule. But no specific issues rise to the surface – just intense memories of feeling stupid, of being terrified to dance, of being traumatized by the thoughts of others watching and critiquing my dance style.

I know my fears are being triggered by Friday night’s dancing in the dark, but I am unable to mentally pierce through the outer defenses of my subconscious mind. For more than two hours I vacillate between terror-filled sobs and calm emotion-numbing interludes. No clarity arises in my heart – no deepening intuitions surface to take me further down the rabbit hole.

“Do I need to actually understand and experience these emotions?” I ask Keith inquisitively. “Or can I simply call in higher energies to help me transmute them without actually going deeper into the emotional work?”

“Close your eyes and let’s find out.” Keith reassures me. “Bring in the light and ask your Higher Self to move these emotional densities for you … to help you transmute them.”

I begin to sunbathe in the light of divine energies – something I had been unable to do in the morning by myself – something that my energies would simply not allow me to do – something that now seems so simple and easy. I feel peaceful energy moving within my soul. I have no rational idea as to exactly what might be shifting, just what emotional densities might be on their way out – but I know that I am on the Angel’s operating table, being worked on by higher energies that love and care for me. There is nothing I need do except to surrender and allow.

Ambe soon positions herself on a foam cushion near my feet. For what seems like an eternity, I stare into Ambe’s glowing eyes. In her beautiful gaze, I see divinity. I see my own divine origins reflected back to me, reminding me of the heavenly birthright that we all share. My connections to source are re-established. My heart is once again powerful and loving. Another layer of emotional density has been processed and released.

Dance As If No One Is Watching

“We should all go out tonight to get some dinner and listen to music.” Keith suggests as my healing session reaches completion. During high season, there is always some type of live music going on in San Marcos on a cool Saturday night.

Later that evening, Keith, Ambe, Moses, Rae and I all wander over to a local restaurant to enjoy delightful company and a rare Chinese meal. At around 8:00 p.m., we then gather at yet another local restaurant where a small band is about to play.

As Rae jumps up to dance, I find myself following closely behind, eager to explore my own fears (or lack of them). Soon, Ambe joins the mix, and I realize that I have lost all inhibitions – at least for now. For the most part, I merely dance the way I have always tried to dance – but simply doing so with more confidence. On one song that has a really weird and dramatic beat, I begin to instinctively act out really stupid dance moves – doing so on purpose. Ambe and I then take turns mimicking each other while we both laugh and giggle about our crazy dancing. Later, Ambe teaches Rae and me a few belly dancing moves. Even though I am hopelessly clueless about how I could ever possibly move my belly muscles in such complicated ways, I give it a try and have a good laugh at myself.

Later that night, as I climb into bed, I ask myself the crucial question, “Was my progress tonight real, or is it a one-time temporary burst of extra confidence?”

The answer will only come with time. There have been other times in my life in which I have also had fun at dances. It is entirely possible that this was simply one of those rare occasions.

But my heart swells with a firm sense of knowing, assuring me that something real has indeed shifted inside my soul.

Life is so much more fun when I can write as if no one is reading, and when I can dance as if no one is watching.

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

Synchronous Setups

January 16th, 2011

Today’s chocolate ceremony is anything but normal. Sundays always seem to bring in more people, but today there are sixteen of us – the largest group I have ever seen on Keith’s magical porch.

But my confusion doesn’t stem from the large numbers – it arises from the feeling of a very different energy – a feeling that many of those who have gathered today have brought huge inner walls along with them – walls being carefully guarded. No one seems to want to open a tiny crack in their wall – to expose their hearts to a group of people that does not yet feel totally safe.

My lesson is in judgment. I experience a sense of surprised shock as I begin to observe the very subtle judgmental energy that seems to be flowing through me – an energy that is projected primarily onto Keith.

“Why isn’t Keith doing more to draw out their emotions?” I ask myself with confusion. “Why is Keith allowing the group to remain so stuck – so chaotic – so unproductive? Shouldn’t he be doing something more proactive?”

It will be several more days before I begin to fully understand.

Shifting Perceptions

To my delight, Monday’s afternoon gathering brings together a smaller group of women who are fully prepared to do some deep work. The afternoon is profoundly fulfilling as emotions are released and dense energies are transmuted while hearts return to a balanced and energized space. I am overjoyed that none of my own emotional issues bubble to the surface. The afternoon provides many powerful opportunities that allow me to further explore my own healing intuitions.

The only thing that puzzles me is that for the second day in a row, our usual five hour gathering seems to abruptly end at around 4:00 p.m..

I have to admit that the work feels clearly complete, and that my intuitions themselves strongly confirm that everything that needs to happen today has already taken place. Yet a confused part of me again struggles with the beginning seeds of judgment.

“We have lots of additional time … why isn’t Keith encouraging more work to take place … why isn’t he nudging people to go even deeper?” I begin to question.

Another thought enters my mind – a thought grumbling that Keith is distracted by the presence of his beautiful friends Ambe and Moses – friends who arrived from Costa Rica on late Sunday afternoon. I love both of these beautiful people – I love the incredible contributions that they have brought to today’s gathering – yet a buried part of me is acutely aware that things are going to be quite different during this coming month.

“Am I ready for the changing energies?” I ask myself with deep introspection. “Am I prepared to shift my perceptions and to lovingly flow with a changing Universe? Am I prepared to allow my world to completely shift without projecting judgments and attachments?”

Changing of the Roommates

A slight sadness greets me at the door as I return to a newly emptied apartment on Monday evening. Jody has found a great place to housesit while she continues her own spiritual Quest. I am excited for my next houseguest to arrive, but I will miss Jody’s beautiful energy in my spare bedroom.

Even though she only lived with me for a week, I have learned so much. With Jody’s loving support I was able to practice a new level of energetic balance – remaining loving and caring while simultaneously attending to my own needs without attachment or guilt – remaining true to the passions of my own soul while sharing a loving and relaxed living space with another.

As I spend Monday night quietly reflecting – basking in gratitude for the amazing growth lessons that continue to flow in my direction – I am also eagerly anticipating the arrival of another dear friend.

It was just thirteen months ago when I first met Conny. I was in Valladolid, still cowering with fear as I contemplated several confusing healing options for a frightening and painful wound on my foot – a third degree burn that shifted my destiny. One evening at my hostel, this beautiful and friendly German woman made a kind and loving comment – a gesture of emotional support at a fearful time when I needed it most.

I soon discovered that Conny had followed strong internal feelings that caused her to cancel a planned month-long trip to Southeast Asia, nudging her to instead change her already purchased plane ticket to a new destination – the Yucatan.

As our friendship developed during the month of December, 2009, Conny and I also deeply inspired each other in our own respective spiritual paths. But the synchronicity for which I am most grateful is that it was stories of Conny’s own travel experiences that gave me the courage to travel into Central America by myself – it was Conny who casually mentioned to me about a beautiful place called Lake Atitlan, quickly adding that there was a very spiritually-oriented town called San Marcos with a meditation center called “Las Piramides del Ka”.

And then of course it was Conny who, on Christmas Day, lovingly handed me a little gift – a Central America tour book – the same sentimental guidebook that Conny had used in her own extensive travels. Inside was a handwritten message: “Dear Brenda, It is old, and it is used, but it wants to travel back to Central America with you – to all the beautiful, amazing, and friendly places you will visit one day…”

Were it not for Conny’s loving encouragement, and her precious guidebook, I would most likely not be here in San Marcos today, enjoying an amazing rollercoaster ride of deep emotional and spiritual growth.

I half expect my dear friend to walk in the door any moment, but due to a long day of travel, our giggly reunion must wait until late Tuesday morning.

New Possibilities

Tuesday brings even more change – more magic – more possibilities to consider.

Conny’s first visit is short – a joyful reunion and a quick visit to meet Keith. She has errands to run, is temporarily lodging in Santa Cruz, and has not brought her backpack along with her.

I am filled with eager butterflies as Conny schedules a private appointment with Keith for Wednesday morning. I am even more animated when Conny asks if I will join her. I cannot wait until Wednesday morning – a morning in which Conny will move in for a few days – a morning in which I will have the opportunity to introduce my friend to the wonders of Keith’s magical porch.

To say that I am emotionally attached to my desire for Conny to have a wonderful experience with Keith would be an understatement. I seem to conveniently forget that attachments seem to have a way of guiding me toward new growth.

Tuesday evening, after a very informal afternoon of combining cacao with singing crystal bowls, I am privileged to share a social visit, eating yummy pizza with Keith’s friends Ambe and Moses.

New possibilities begin to tantalize my imagination as I discover that Ambe is highly connected to many Peruvian Shamans – that she recently spent considerable time traveling around Peru participating in numerous spiritual ceremonies with these Incan spiritual leaders – and that she is feeling drawn back to Peru again, possibly even this summer.

I momentarily connect energetically to my dear friend Pyper – a beautiful friend who is right now in the middle of following her own passion – moving her family into the wilds of Alaska where she will continue developing her career as a mental health counselor in a small village accessible only via boat or plane. Pyper herself is deeply interested in Peruvian Shamanism, having extensively studied and practiced the spiritual traditions.

I have long felt an energetic pull tugging me toward Peru. Something deep inside longs to visit places such as Machu Picchu, Cuzco, Lake Titicaca, Iquitos, the Amazon, etc… In fact, Pyper and I had extensively discussed the possibilities of going together in June of 2010 – but both of us felt deeply pulled in other directions, with my strong intuitions guiding me to participate in the Sun Course.

But just two weeks ago, on the morning of New Year’s Day, Pyper sent me a quick message – a message that continues to leave me guessing with butterflies of anticipation.

“Brenda, I’m in packing frenzy!! Can’t talk, but wanted to let you know something’s brewing, so we could both wrap our heads around it – dreamed I was visiting you … six to nine months from now … won’t that be wonderful?”

A feeling of deep synchronous wonder begins to swell in my heart as I contemplate these two completely separate events in my life.

“Could it be that I might be going to Peru?” I speculate.

On the outside, it certainly looks like a support system is building around me, creating the definite possibility of such a trip. On the inside, however, I am fully aware that my own inner intuitions have yet to kick in.

My heart peacefully reassures me that now is not the time to concern myself with the future. For now I will remain in the present moment. Peru will either happen, or it will not. I am here now, and that is all that matters. Even so, I cannot help but feel like a child who is pondering the possibility of a trip to Disneyland.

 

Spiritual Ego

As I continue a deep conversation with Ambe and Moses, many of the words floating my way trigger unexpected thoughts and emotions. Some of the things that Moses shares regarding his own path cause me to feel quite confused regarding my own motivations – my motivations for traveling – my motivations for seeking spiritual enlightenment – my motivations for writing so publicly about my deepest inner struggles and triumphs.

As my head hits the pillow on a beautiful Tuesday evening, I cannot help but feel a little confused as I genuinely question myself. My heart is pure and innocently seeking – yet I begin to doubt – to wonder if a subtle version of spiritual Ego might be accompanying me in the shadows.

Confidence Crash

A mild headache demands my attention on Wednesday morning. Having not slept all that well, my first tendency is to feel slightly victimized by my body’s weakness – but a tiny twinge of intuition tells me that the physical exhaustion has been divinely orchestrated – that my tiredness is all a part of today’s process.

At 9:15 a.m., I am delighted to see Conny cresting the top of my stairs still wearing her backpack. We quickly stow her belongings in the spare room before eagerly engaging in a ten minute walk to the eastern edge of town.

Minutes after Keith instructs Conny to close her eyes, internal frustration begins to boil in my soul.

“Keith is just letting her sit there in meditation.” I begin to silently judge. “I want Conny to have a wonderful experience. Why isn’t he doing something to guide her? Why doesn’t he talk to her, coach her, or ask her any questions about her journey?”

That first hour of silent meditation is brutal for me. Rather than assisting Conny by holding a powerful energetic space, I find myself thinking one judgmental thought after another. These judgments blind me, causing me to lose confidence in Keith – causing me to disconnect from my own intuitive sources. About the only thing I feel is “Why isn’t Keith helping my friend?”

Later, after Conny eventually opens her eyes and describes her amazing meditative experiences, I am deeply humbled and extremely grateful as I learn that Keith’s approach was indeed powerful for Conny.

But I am also silently scolding myself up for becoming lost in my attachments – so lost in fact that I temporarily forgot that Keith never leads a group using his own energy. Instead, he always follows the energy, allowing higher energies to lead the group through him.

“Obviously,” I remind myself, “Keith felt guided today that Conny was having an amazing journey on her own – he intuitively knew that his job was simply to stay out of the way.”

“I have had many amazing experiences with Keith that involved no talking at all.” I continue pondering, “Why was I so disconnected today … and also on Sunday and Monday? Why was I so lacking in trust? It was me who was disconnected and out of tune with the energies.”

Several times during the session with Conny, Keith asks me to share my intuitive insights regarding what she might be feeling. I attempt to give meaningful, inspired answers, but continue to feel lost in the muck – stuck in the quicksand of what is my own self judgment. Conny later confirms that my insights were indeed accurate, but I simply believe myself to be a failure and a fraud.

As I ponder my building judgments – judgments that began on Sunday, I recognize just how disconnected I have become. Rather than remembering to trust in the higher energies, I have indeed become stuck in a subtle form of Spiritual Ego, judging people I love from a very disconnected viewpoint.

Voices from the Past

The morning session is powerful for Conny, but leaves her so overwhelmed with things to ponder and to integrate that she does not feel capable of remaining for the afternoon public chocolate ceremony.

But remain I must – my heart is heavy, emotions are begging to be recognized, released, and healed.

The afternoon session begins slowly, but it does not take long for the tears to begin bubbling in my eyes.

I am stuck and confused – judging myself – still not really sure as to what exactly I am feeling. One thing is clear, however. I feel like a failure and a fraud. I feel stupid, alone, and disconnected from source.

It takes me nearly an hour of stifled whimpering before the intuitions begin to flow – before the healing begins to progress into a stage of intuitive awareness. Suddenly, everything becomes clear – as if someone turned on a light in my soul.

The painful judgmental thoughts that are literally parading themselves through my mind are an expansive collection of all of my past negative self talk. While sitting on Keith’s porch, my mind is bombarded with a continuous stream of self defeating, self-belittling negative voices – voices that remind me of a lifetime of insecurities and perceived social failures.

Somehow, I remain the observer.

Each emotion attempts to kick me in the gut – stabbing me in the heart – mustering a valiant effort to strangle the life-force within. I allow the tears to flow, permitting the gut-wrenching emotional pain to surface – but I refuse to validate the trauma-drama of it all.

Remaining the observer proves challenging. Yes, I know the truth of my divinity – but the lies are so convincing, so overpowering.

As I continue to process this seeming-endless chain of emotional poison, Keith asks Holly to come over to join me – to assist me in my release process. To my amazement, as Holly connects to my energy, I sense that my process greatly accelerates. Within about ten minutes the lies have magically evaporated into nothingness, the emotional pain has vanished, and my heart glows with love and power.

In the midst of my own process, I have been acutely aware of another friend who is engaged in deep, profoundly intense, emotional release. But I also knew that I could do nothing to help while in the midst of my own process. As I complete my own emotional healing for the day, a flood of powerful confidence consumes my soul, telling me that I am indeed a healer, and that now is the time to honor that inner knowing.

Without even looking to Keith for guidance, I go straight to the side of my friend. I feel no doubts, no sense of hesitation, and have no need for validation of any sort. My hands flash straight to my friend’s heart chakra, one hand on his chest, the other on his back. I intuitively synchronize my breathing patterns with those of my friend, breathing out loudly through my mouth whenever he breathes out. At first, the breaths are rapid and erratic as he struggles to bring his emotional release to a peaceful conclusion. The emotional vomiting is complete and his tears are drying – yet my friend’s body continues to struggle in an effort to calm, to return to a quiet rhythm.

For nearly ten minutes I focus my love and energy into one purpose – being vigilant of the fact that I am bringing the energy in from above, not using my own limited supply of divine life force. Soon this beautiful man regains his composure. His energy feels lighter and his face has a new glow of hope and release.

Gratitude fills my heart for the opportunity to have played a small role at the tail-end of this beautiful man’s amazing healing process. Joy overwhelms me as I recognize that my participation had been 100% intuitive, with the rational mind completely disengaged.

I giggle as I silently ponder the huge healing shift that has taken place in my own soul in such a short period of time. Just thirty minutes ago I was struggling to remain the observer in the face of overwhelming negative voices from the past. Now I am empowered and floating in the white fluffy clouds of divine connectedness.

Round Two

Emotional exhaustion sits on my doorstep, patiently waiting for the opportunity to slip through the first crack in my armor.

Wednesday evening and Thursday morning have been filled to the brim with beautiful and deep spiritual conversations – both with Conny and others. I am acutely aware that I am on the edge of repeating old patterns – of pushing myself beyond my physical energy boundaries – of entering an old loop where I will be temporarily consumed by the exhaustion that awaits my first sign of weakness.

But the mere awareness of this process seems to make me safe. Rather than draining all of my energy I continually refuel, remaining connected to the higher sources that sustain my flow.

Thursday afternoon, as I return to Keith’s porch for the fifth straight day in a row, I am keenly aware that I am sitting of the edge of yet-another emotional release. But I am also determined that today I can give myself permission to be strong – to simply be there for others. There is no more need for those humbling tears to flow again today.

Behind the Curtain

The first thing Keith asks is for me to check in – to share where I am at. Wednesday afternoon’s roller coaster ride had been emotionally intense and Keith knew it. I begin to suspect that Keith is fishing, intuitively knowing that another little fish is lurking in my emotional pond.

“Close your eyes and take a walk up into your control room.” Keith unexpectedly guides me into a quiet meditation. My bullshit meter has been detected, and Keith is not going to let me slip through the cracks today.

Within a few minutes an impromptu image pops into my mind as if out of nowhere. I find myself visualizing a very familiar scene from one of my favorite childhood movies – The Wizard of Oz.

The scene that powerfully pops into my mind is one where Dorothy and her companions finally stand in the wizard’s chamber, asking for their wishes to be granted. In the middle of the wizard’s frightening show of bursting flames and thundering angry voices, Dorothy’s little dog Toto barks and runs over to a small curtain at the side of the room. Seconds later, Toto has pulled the curtain to the side, revealing that the great and powerful wizard is nothing but a small and harmless man from Kansas.

Intuitively I recognize that the Ego has just been revealed to me – the curtain has been suddenly pulled back, revealing the harmless source of all of my past negative voices – the voices that paraded through my awareness just yesterday – the voices that terrorized me, that debilitated me, that held me in such a dysfunctional state through so much of my life.

Yes, it turns out that the Ego is nothing to be afraid of. It is all smoke and mirrors – a silly fabrication having no real power or substance.

At first I grin and laugh at this powerful realization. Then I begin to imagine myself wearing a pair of magical ruby slippers.

“There’s no place like home … there’s no place like home.” I begin to silently repeat to myself while visualizing my heels tapping together.

As I do so, I again experience fear. The fear laughs at me, ridiculing me, telling me that I am not ready yet, that I will never find my way home, that I am forever stuck in the illusory world of Oz.

Tears begin to stream down my cheeks as I stare at those fears – as I contemplate how I have been victimized all these years by a harmless old man from Kansas – a powerless wizard representing an Ego that has held me mesmerized by flashy and convincing talk.

The feeling of emptiness strengthens – “How could I have bought into such lies?” I ask myself. “Why did I have to waste so many years walking on that silly Yellow Brick Road only to discover that I have been deceived by Ego? But even worse yet, why am I still afraid to tap my heels together?”

Intuitively, I already know that my journey on the Yellow Brick Road has been perfect, having been extremely valuable. I would never trade it for anything. But nonetheless, I am feeing quite victimized.

After about an hour of me wallowing in my empty state of misery, Keith walks over with a smile on his face, plops a pillow down on the ground in front of me, and plants his smiling face right in front of my sad one. I have not yet mentioned one word to him about my ongoing visualizations.

“Brenda,” Keith laughs, “I think it is time for you to connect with your higher energies. You need to ask them to bring in an express pity party, right here, right now.”

As I contemplate Keith’s words I begin to take him literally, but as I try to enter a deeper state of pity I suddenly burst out laughing. Seconds later I am back to almost crying – then laughing again – and then crying again. Suddenly the dam bursts, and the bottled up emotions all rush forth.

“Haven’t I already cried enough on this porch?” I tearfully ask Keith between the sobs that heave forth from my mouth.

I already know that what I am doing is powerful – that it is the only way to free and to release this next layer of buried emotions that continue to block my path – but I am tired of being so emotional, of crying so much in public – fearful that I may be stuck in an endless loop of emotional release.

Keith again reassures me that this is not the case – that he too needed to shed layer after layer of tears in order to clean out his own emotional densities. His kind reassurance gives me the added courage to allow my process to continue – to allow myself to once again be the center of the healing focus of others.

As the tears conclude, I vacillate between a feeling of numbness and joy. In an effort to stabilize myself, an intuition tells me to use Reiki to build an energy ball around my upper body. Ten minutes later, I do indeed have a powerful energy force surrounding my head and heart – so powerful that I joke with Keith that I will have to spend the night on his porch because I don’t want to leave – I don’t want to lose this amazing energy.

When I do finally step from Keith’s powerful patio, I take the energy with me. I am bubbly and alive, deeply humbled and grateful for such a profound day of healing.

The Wizard of Oz will never again be the same.

Clenched Toes and Shuffled Steps

“Brenda, you are still walking funny.” Conny tells me abruptly (but lovingly) as we walk out toward Keith’s porch for her second private session of the week. “It feels like you are tightly clenching your toes with every step you take.”

Conny’s words no longer sting my heart – I worked through that emotion yesterday when she had first pointed out the same fact. I know that she would never say anything to hurt me, and that her words are intended with love.

“But WHY do the words hurt so much?” I ask myself with shock. “Why am I so sensitive to their impact in my soul?”

Somewhere at around age twelve or thirteen, in the midst of my deepening gender struggles, I had begun to walk with pigeon toes – a style of walking where the toes on each of my feet would point inward at a thirty-degree angle with each forward step.

Such awkward walking became a source of deep shame throughout a period of profound emotional vulnerability. With so much buried pain to protect, my pigeon-toed feet seemed to be an externally visible exclamation point that screamed “You are a loser! … You are an evil freak! … And you walk like one too!”

Throughout my teenage years I struggled with my confusing gait. No matter how hard I tried to correct the manner in which I walked, I seemed to be utterly incapable of doing so. It was not until around age eighteen or nineteen when I finally mastered the art of walking with toes pointing forward.

Since that long-ago time, no one has ever said one single word about the way I walk – not one verbal hint. For over five years I have been painfully aware that my foot muscles always seem to be tightly cramped and hard, but I had no idea that my walking style was different than anyone else’s.

“Could it be that Conny is right?” I ask myself, “And even more importantly, is it possible that my toe clenching and rapid shuffled stepping is directly related to the emotional trauma of those teenage years?”

Conny’s Friday morning private session is beautiful and amazing. As her time with Keith wraps up, we have just enough time to grab lunch together before I return to Keith’s porch to do my own work. This will be my second day this week involving all-day intuitive/emotional processing.

“Brenda,” Conny lovingly requests during lunch, “please promise me that you will ask Keith about your feet. It would really help me to know if my intuitions are accurate or not.”

As I prepare to respond to Conny, a flash of intuition passes through my own awareness. I do not know when, where, or how – but I suddenly know that Conny and I have an other-dimensional agreement regarding the way I walk. It seems impossible, but I just know it to be true. In that other-worldly agreement, Conny agreed to share her intuition with me in a way that would help to facilitate another level of growth and healing in me. I agreed to validate her intuition in a way that would provide her with valuable first-hand feedback – feedback that will help her to recognize and to trust her own developing long-suppressed magical abilities.

Shortly after returning to Keith’s porch, I ask the question, “Do you think that the way I clench my toes when I walk could be related to an emotional issue on which I need to work?”

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith replies after meditating briefly, “I feel very strongly that there is something there that you need to look at.”

“What are you guys talking about?” Moses asks Keith.

“The way that Brenda shuffles her feet when she walks.” Keith responds casually, making me believe that I must be the only one who has not been aware of my tense walking style.

Emotional Collapse

Early during the session, the focus shifts to another woman, one of my friends. As Keith guides her through a meditative visualization, it becomes obvious that the woman’s present healing issue involves blocked or disconnected energy channels in her legs and lower chakras.

In an unexpected twist, Keith feels strongly guided that the woman’s work would be better facilitated by her laying flat on her back, supported by pillows – with Ambe sitting at her head, Moses at her feet, Keith sitting by her right side, and me holding space at her left.

Keith’s coaching is beautiful as he encourages the woman to visualize her Higher Self bringing in additional energy to help her reconnect with and to reenergize parts of herself that have been long disconnected.

As I sit cross-legged by the woman’s side, I feel intuitively guided to energetically connect with her third chakra – placing my hands above her solar plexus and allowing a little Reiki energy to flow through me.

Keith continues to coach my friend through her energy visualization while I simultaneously begin to get lost in my own.

I attempt to remain totally present, assisting my friend by holding a beautiful energetic space – but I soon recognize great emotional tides beginning to shift inside of me. My own third chakra is bubbling with sadness, with confusion, with fear, with hopelessness.

I fight my feelings and again focus on what I am doing to assist my friend – but my own emotions gradually overwhelm me. The more I connect with this woman’s energy, the more my own buried pain seems to surface. I am no longer capable of providing energetic assistance to anyone. My head has collapsed toward my knees as tears quietly stream down my cheeks.

I feel guilty, attempting to muffle my tears. I don’t want to interrupt my friend’s beautiful work – I don’t want to be an energy suck by pulling the attention back to me.

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts quietly and confidently, “I am being guided to tell you that what you are doing is real and very important – that you are not being dramatic or taking energy from another – and that this is the next powerful layer of your own work that you need to allow to surface. Do not fight this. Allow yourself to go through this process.”

Connecting the Dots

Almost immediately I feel Ambe’s warm motherly arms cuddling me from behind as I begin to allow my tears to flow more freely. Keith asks me to lay back into Ambe’s arms – to allow myself to be held and assisted. I simply melt into the warm love that surrounds me.

In a moment between tears, I ask Keith a question.

“Could this be related to my clenched feet and the way I walk?” I ask innocently, somehow knowing that the pain I am feeling goes back to the period when I struggled with walking pigeon toed as a teenager.

Rather than giving me the answer, Keith asks for me to find it within myself.

“Yes,” I reply instinctively. I am then quite surprised as words of explanation seem to flow easily through my mouth.

“These emotions are all about the shutting down my own femininity – my own sexual struggles as a teenager. It was at that same period in my life when I began to subconsciously clench my feet. It was a powerful metaphor – a metaphor in which I was shutting down my energetic connection to Mother Earth – to my feminine side – desperately trying to prevent those feminine energies from overwhelming me.”

“Yes,” I continued intuitively, “when I began to walk pigeon toed it was because my body was attempting to suppress my feminine energy connections.”

I then remembered something that Nadia told me one day during our reflexology course, “Brenda,” she spoke with a deeply concerned look, “I do not feel any energy flowing through your feet … you need to ground yourself … to connect yourself to Mother Earth.”

Powerful Release

Keith asks me to return emotionally to the forgotten time long ago when I shut down the energy flow in my feet. As I do so, my tears return big time. In a continuous flow of what I can only describe as energetic waves, I ebb and flow with powerful emotional release. I vividly remember the horrifyingly painful emotions of a young teenage boy, desperately trying to suppress unexplainable feminine feelings and desires – the shame, the guilt, the self-hatred, the futility, the loneliness, the helplessness, and the hopelessness. The emotions run much deeper than I had remembered.

For most of the next hour, I lay back into Ambe’s arms, cycling between sobs and whimpers. To keep Ambe from being tired, Keith asks Moses to sit behind her – to use his own masculine energy to support her so that she can have the strength to support me.

In the meantime, my friend Jody takes a position at my feet, beginning to massage them with love. Gradually, I feel the energy sensations begin to tingle throughout my feet.

“I’m even feeling an itching-like energy on my burn-scar.” I tell Keith with delight.

“Brenda, that is just a little fly that was biting you.” Keith smiles, “I just killed it for you.”

“That fly was just helping to open up my energy sensations.” I reply with a giggle.

My painful emotions are gone. This wild, powerful, and painful emotional layer has been successfully released. My heart is glowing. My feet are glowing. My entire body is glowing with love and vibrating with peace.

A Magical Walk

I am back in a chair, exploring the afternoon’s events with Keith and the others, filled with deep joy and gratitude.

The woman whose work I interrupted reassures me that what I did greatly assisted her in her own processing – thanking me for having the courage to further assist her in her own work.

“Brenda,” Keith unexpectedly pulls another rabbit out of his hat, “I am being guided to tell you that you need to go for a short walk … perhaps just out here on the street, and then down to the lake and back.”

As I walk down the hundred yards of curved road, my flip flops are soon in my hands as I allow my energy-filled feet to connect with the smooth road below. Everything around me glows with a new beauty. The volcanoes across the lake seem to radiate joy and love. The trees along the road are more colorful. The deep-blue lake begs my feet to move closer while joyful tears begin to fill the corners of my eyes.

Soon I am standing in the warm water of Lake Atitlan, staring out at the white-capped waves, feeling the warm breeze on my face, experiencing the powerful energy of my surroundings.

The Symphony of Life

As I prepare to walk home, Keith fills my heart with butterflies as he points out the amazing synchronous symphony of events that have gradually led up to my experiences today. I feel a deep sense of wonder as I ponder the fact that the entire world around me seems to be collaborating and contributing to my growth and healing – it all seems to suggest that I really am the center of my own universe – that I really am the creator of my reality, and that everything in my reality is designed to bring me exactly what I need, exactly when I need it.

In a powerful burst of inner knowing, I again realize that there is nothing I need to do other than to be present – to allow, to surrender, to be present with the symphony being conducted by my own Higher Self.

I feel mesmerized, almost dizzy, as I ponder my gradual process of letting go, of allowing my heart to take over while the little old wizard from Kansas continues to lose his power and influence.

“Brenda,” Keith pulls me aside and whispers in my ear.” I just want you to know that I am so proud of you. You are not simply repeating the same old loops over and over. You are continuously opening up new layers of emotional densities, facing them and healing them with courage. Your progress is amazing.”

When my feet again hit the pavement, I feel as if I am literally floating between two dimensions – not fully grounded in either. Jody asks if she can walk with me, but she repeatedly needs to slow down and wait, as I am in no hurry whatsoever, taking every step forward with deliberate joy and gratitude.

I know that life will never be the same – that it can only get better from here – and that I need not worry about a thing.

I love life – I adore the beautiful symphony playing all around me, supporting me, nourishing me, and guiding me through each loving step of my journey.

Copyright © 2011 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved