It truly has been a wild ride over the last few days – a ride filled with unexpected role-plays in my personal holodeck of self-created reality. I have learned that I need not concern myself with whether the person at the other end of my script is consciously or unknowingly triggering me. What really matters is that I recognize that any emotions that may be triggered are my own. I would not have an emotional trigger, and my buttons could not be pushed, if I did not still have unhealed issues residing inside of me.
I love how both Keith and Paul have played roles for me this week, taking me deeply into the understanding of how I felt as a child when my mother, and others, were frustrated and impatient with me. I was not given an opportunity to feel and express the painful emotions that flowed through me, and I was invalidated for even having the emotions.
But as I rest on my pillow, late on Friday evening, March 23, 2012, all the peaceful knowing in the world takes a back seat to ego as the stories begin to flow. These are persistent stories about the crazy projected anger and resentment I feel toward Keith and others who would treat me the way I have been treated – invalidating me, being impatient and frustrated with me, accusing me of doing things I did not do.
Crazy Making
“How dare Keith imply I was lost in my confusion in the middle of ceremony today!” inner ego voices begin to complain. “And how dare he talk to me with such frustrated and impatient emphasis in his voice! I don’t care if I struggle a thousand times on his porch. Each time I do so, I deserve his kind and loving patience.”
“But he was role-playing for me,” my loving heart answers. “He was skillfully showing me how I felt as a child when I desperately sought validation, but instead was met by frustration and impatience. It does not matter whether Keith knew he was role-playing or not, what matters is that what he did and said is exactly what I needed for the profound growth and insights that came about as a result.”
“But I deserve better,” the ego voices demand. “I deserve to be treated with love and respect! I deserve to be gently assisted when I ask for help. Instead, I felt as if Keith was crazy making with me.”
As I take a step back, I recognize clearly that my parents unknowingly did crazy making on me as well. They had a cultural mandate to teach me how to fit into a tight little box – a box that they believed was for my own good.
Remaining The Observer
As 10:00 p.m. comes and goes, my inner agitation only increases. I am unable to sleep and the stories continue to intensify. I am having a difficult time separating triggers from reality – separating how I felt while talking to Keith this afternoon from how I felt as a vulnerable and lost child.
“This is actually my God/separation drama projected onto Keith,” I suddenly realize. “I am projecting deep subconscious anger at Higher Energies that in my limited perception seemed to abandon and ignore me during my darkest nights.”
Recognizing that the emotions and stories are not in alignment with present-day reality, I attempt to remain the observer, to not give them power, and to simply allow the feelings to flow through me. Finally, shortly after midnight, I manage to fall asleep for about an hour – and again, I manage to snag a small amount of sleep between 2:00 and 4:00 a.m. – but for the remainder of the night and morning, I simply stare at the ceiling.
Yet, to my amazement, I do not feel angry or upset. I somehow manage to accept what is, to find self-acceptance for my stuck state. In the midst of my sleepless hours, I feel a great deal of trapped energy movements around my body – especially involving energetic twitching on my back.
Holding Back The Sobs
Finding myself unable to focus or write, I make a decision to walk out to Keith’s porch at 10:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. He is teaching three classes today as part of a local San Marcos Festival of Consciousness. I am exhausted and just hope to hang out in a high-energy environment – hoping to possibly learn something in a discussion about “Sound Healing”, while doing so as an inconspicuous fly on the wall.
To my dismay, after about thirty minutes of discussion, Keith asks each person in our small class to practice making various sounds.
“Brenda, it is your turn,” Keith soon turns to me.
“Can I please pass?” I respond without even looking up, attempting to suppress bubbling emotions.
“Brenda,” Keith asks a few minutes later, “would you like to sit in the middle and be our guinea pig?”
“Sure,” I respond glumly, “I can’t do anything else. I am exhausted from having only gotten a few hours of sleep last night, and right now I am swimming in deep childhood emotions.”
For several minutes, this small group of six makes continuous sounds – sounds ranging from toning, ohming, humming, and even singing. When they stop, I am crying, desperately attempting to maintain my composure. I appreciate the help being offered, but feel utterly stupid for being the center of attention in this context.
“I’m not supposed to be here doing my inner work,” I protest to Keith. “I am feeling guilty for doing this in the middle of your class. I didn’t come here for a private session. I just wanted to meditate quietly in Higher Energies. I am regressed deeply into childhood emotions, exhausted, highly emotional, and desperately trying to hold back the sobs.”
Sound Surrender
“There is no reason to hold anything back,” a woman immediately responds. “You are blessing me by showing how the sound therapy works.”
With the group’s reassurance, I surrender while they do another round of sounds. As they do so, I allow myself to cry even more. When they finish, I feel somewhat lighter … yet I am experiencing a swarm of deeply heavy and confused energy that swirls in the top of my head.
As the group again engages in another long round of vocalizing a variety of sounds, I begin to feel slight energy tingles in my head and shoulders – tingles that continue to integrate after the sounds end. To my surprise, the emotions are gradually evaporating to nothingness, and I soon move back to my seat – zoning out for the remainder of this two-hour workshop.
At noon, as Keith begins leading a “Connecting to Higher Energies” workshop, I begin early and simply meditate for the next two hours. The heavy swarming confusion energy remains quite intense.
Confusing Chaotic Energy
I spend the entire two hours engaging in one energy meditation after another, attempting to leave rational-mind behind while focusing on various methods of balancing this confusion energy. First, I play with the energy channels surrounding my pineal gland. Next, I engage in a “Mer-Ka-Ba” meditation. Even so, the energy in my head remains intense.
“Just show me what you would do with this energy,” I finally surrender to the light.
Eventually, as I quit attempting to do anything, the energy seems to pool at the front of my forehead, in the region of the third-eye chakra. Then the energy moves lower, plugging up the bridge of my nose. Finally, with patient intention, without pushing or judging, the energy seems to relax and flow down my nose … then it comes back … then it flows again … then it comes back.
As I play and observe, I begin to capture glimpses of understanding regarding this strong and swarming confusion energy. The fact that it moves around from place to place provides significant evidence that the issue is energetic and not physical. Over the last year, I have also clearly noted that the confusion energy surfaces primarily when something takes me deep into the frustration and impatience of my mother or another authority figure – such as when Keith role-played with me last evening.
When triggered, this energy is so overwhelming that it literally confuses my ability to focus and to think about or remember anything from short-term interactions. Keith has often reassured me that, as a child, such energy was my only way to protect myself from cultural programming. What shocks me is that, even now, this energy continues to get triggered in such intense ways.
A “Light” Day
As Keith prepares to lead his third workshop for the day, I excuse myself at 2:00 p.m., utterly exhausted and unable to focus. After a quick lunch, I sleep for over four hours. When I awaken, I watch a quick movie and then return to bed. Exhaustion continues to consume me.
Sunday morning, after a much-needed restful sleep, I spend several hours watching an assortment of Abraham videos. As I ponder the importance of maintaining my connection to Higher Energies, I also ponder how I used to make a weekly trek into the mountains, hiking and meditating solo, reconnecting with my heart, reconnecting with the energies of nature. I realize that over the last few months I have been so focused on deep inner work that I have severely neglected that link to the light.
As Keith has so frequently pointed out to me, I have continued to do a great deal of my inner work by “slogging through the trenches”, still not being fully able to bring in the light to help me.
Prior to the afternoon ceremony today, I make a deep concerted effort to meditate into a powerful state of heart energy. I am determined to try something different.
As the glow meditation begins, I focus on many blissful memories – memories of times when I have felt deeply connected to light and love. Then, I spend the next four hours basking in this energy, often sharing it with others as I assist in their deep inner journeys.
It proves to be a deeply satisfying afternoon.
Exploring Judgment
Around 5:00 p.m., as I sit relaxed and focusing on my connection to the light, Keith reaches over, gently touches my leg, looks into my eyes, and congratulates me on my beautiful energy today.
I giggle inside, because this is literally the first words he has said to me since beginning the ceremony. I have been totally in my element, trusting myself, not needing or asking for any guidance or reassurance.
“I’m working on bringing more love to my inner children and inner adolescents,” I fill Keith in on my process. “I’m beginning to feel some fear and blockage in there, but I am just holding space and loving it all.”
“How about if you work on loving the judgment,” Keith suggests.
“This is kind of what I am doing,” I respond, slightly puzzled by Keith’s words.
But as I meditate deeper into this concept, I realize that focusing only on the judgment removes a need to focus on the origin of that judgment – whether it be parents, church, self, or from others – and instead, I am simply loving the judgment that seems to be deeply entrenched in hidden vaults.
Loving The Make-Wrongs
As I meditate ever deeper, I begin to clearly recognize that my painful solar plexus, being my power center, is what got me into most of my trouble as a child who often fought back in rebellion at rules that felt stifling, being mouthy and rebellious when feeling unjustly attacked by those who might judge me. Finally, in hopelessness and futility, I surrendered my power, severing my solar plexus energies, shutting down my will until I felt like a broken and obedient horse.
I soon begin to focus on loving the power struggles of my childhood. As I do so, deep emotions and trickling tears start to surface. Gradually, I feel some of the heaviness and blockages in my abdomen begin to vibrate and loosen – especially throughout my lower back region. Something inside is definitely shifting.
“Love the ‘make-wrongs’,” Keith soon guides me after I again fill him in on my journey.
I am delighted how I am able to go even deeper with such a subtle shift in meaning. Removing “judgment” from the equation also removes the feeling of “blame”, helping me to realize that I was simply an alien child who could not and did not necessarily want to understand the religious culture of the era. Yet I clearly recognize that I chose my parents and birth circumstances – that all of this was part of my plan – that it was something in which I needed to become profoundly lost.
“What I went through hurt deeply,” I ponder with peace, “but I can indeed love that hurt.”
Giggling Feedback
I sit in this meditative space until the ceremony finally fades. As I begin to walk away from a now-empty porch, I can only giggle when Keith gets silly. After putting his fingertips to his mouth, Keith gestures with a “mmmwwaaaaa” as if he were at an Italian restaurant congratulating the cook on a marvelous meal. Keith then shares how proud he was for my energy today, for my being “in the love”, for not needing feedback, and for trusting myself the whole time.
I too feel quite proud of myself today. I am eager to go home to integrate the beautiful experience and to bask in that much-needed energy of self-love.
Power Equals Alone
In an inexplicable turn of events, Monday morning begins with a deep lack of motivation. I did not sleep well, I feel lazy, and nervous unsettled energies twitch throughout my body, letting me know that something is still shifting inside of my field – something quite outside of rational-mind understanding.
As I attempt to focus on Abraham videos, I suddenly overflow with uncontainable emotion – emotion that results in deep teeth-chattering sobs. There is no valid present-day reason for this emotion, but it is real and profound, and I have long-since learned to simply let such emotions flow through me.
Along with the emotions come feelings of being profoundly alone and isolated … of just wanting to be held and loved … of being deeply alone even when surrounded by many people.
“Am I regressing?” I question myself, suspecting that I am likely just releasing old stuff that is now bubbling to the surface for release.
As I ponder and meditate about these strange emotions, however, I remember a feeling I had yesterday at that powerful Sunday afternoon ceremony. I realize that I was not as deeply connected to empowering divine love as I might have wished … and I recognize a very clear feeling that has surfaced throughout my life.
“When I am strong and in my power,” I ponder as the feeling flows, “that is when I feel most alone. Being strong means being alone because people know that I do not need their help. That is exactly what happened yesterday … I was so in my power that I received almost no personal guidance.”
“This sounds like my God drama,” I ponder.
But in an act of control, I force all emotions aside and instead focus on whitewashing those emotions with a blanket of Higher Energies. In just a few minutes, I will be assisting in an afternoon private-group ceremony on Keith’s magical porch, and I do not want to show up with tears in my eyes.
Mysterious Overbooking
A very awkward situation is unfolding. I am on the edge of anxiety as I wonder how Keith might resolve it. Yesterday, about an hour before the Sunday ceremony, I had been talking to Keith when he scheduled a private session with two women, one of which I will call Julie. The session was primarily for Julie’s friend. Julie was going to be there too, and at Keith’s suggestion, the friend indicated that it would also be OK if I were there to assist. The women made it quite clear however that they did not want any men there (except Keith that is).
In the midst of scheduling, Keith had noted that he had another private session already scheduled at the same time with another woman that I will call Sarah.
“I will try to move Sarah’s session to a later time,” Keith had told Julie. “Why don’t you tentatively plan on 1:00 p.m. and I will let you know via email if that is not going to work out.”
When the two women leave, Keith goes into his house to send a quick email to Sarah, hoping to reschedule her.
“Brenda,” Keith suddenly calls out with surprise, “my internet modem just expired a few minutes ago. I have no way to get online.”
An hour later, just as we are finishing preparations to start the Sunday ceremony, Sarah walks onto the porch. I try to get Keith’s attention to suggest that he should talk to her about changing her session time. Keith looks at me as if I am an alien, acting extremely confused about what I am trying to tell him. Meanwhile, in the middle of the ceremony, Keith begins telling a few people that several women are gathering for a small private group session tomorrow afternoon, suggesting that they might also want to join us.
I just bite my tongue and trust the process. As it turns out, later that evening, when several from the Sunday ceremony shared dinner at a local restaurant, this person invited that person, and that person invited another. What began as two double-booked private sessions had now randomly expanded to an entire group of people being invited – including several men – and neither Julie nor Sarah knew of that fact.
An Awkward Group
As I walk out toward Keith’s home, this complicated overbooking scenario is hot on my mind when I bump into Julie who is also walking in the same direction. In the course of our walk, Julie mentions that the reason she wanted a tiny private ceremony is that there was way too much “fixing energy” on the porch, and that she did not want people there who would try to fix her.
While conversing with Julie, I opt to say nothing regarding the double booking because I have no idea what Keith may or may not have done to resolve the issue. I trust that Keith will resolve everything when we arrive. When we sit on the porch, I can tell that Julie is noticeably confused by the fact that seven or eight other people are also gathered. When Keith steps out onto the porch, he says nothing to Julie or Sarah regarding what is happening, and instead begins to conduct a group ceremony.
I am feeling intense frustration. I assume that Sarah must know what is going on, but I can clearly see that Julie is confused. I feel her awkwardness – and her awkwardness becomes my own. As much as I have learned to “trust the process”, this is one time where I feel a great deal of unexpressed judgment and anger toward Keith.
Bait-And-Switch Regression
Julie does not even drink chocolate, and seems quite defensive when anyone else engages her in conversation.
Meanwhile, I silently sink back into my God drama, further fuming in unexpressed projections onto Keith. I feel angry about what I now perceive as his “crazy making” onto me yesterday when I had tried to point out the developing awkward situation. He had shut me down and had literally refused to listen to my concerns.
I am fully aware of my projections and fully aware that such crazy making happened to me frequently as a child – but I am so lost in the emotions that I am unable to disengage from the power of those projections.
I am also quite angry that two men are present. Julie had made it quite clear that men were not to be there. In my mind, the situation could not be more disastrous.
Yet in the midst of my stewing and fuming, part of me knows that this whole situation must be a “create-my-own-reality” setup … that I am here to be an observer as these emotions surface. Yet a huge part of me wants to stand up right now and simply walk away from the situation, wanting nothing to do with it.
I know this situation is not my fault … but just the fact that I am here and had initially tried to help resolve it makes me feel as if I am internalizing all of the guilt. I am unable to connect with Higher Energies from above or from Mother Earth.
I am regressed to childhood … a little child who is angry about God/church saying one thing while the energy/reality that I feel is another. I am a tiny child angry with God and with my dear mother … angry about the bait-and-switch crazy making that took place with both.
This tiny child is very angry.
Fixing Fest
“The energy is with you,” Keith soon turns to speak to Julie, who appears quite surprised.
Seconds later, in the midst of the conversation, a young woman on the porch bursts into deep tears. Three women rush over to hold and comfort her. I perceive the whole situation as profoundly fixing … as saying “Oh, you poor thing, you are hurting. Let us hold and comfort you so you do not need to cry.” I watch with deep interest as the situation unfolds.
I find it quite fascinating as Keith point-blank tells the emotional young woman that she is an empath, and that as a child, people tried to fix her, not allowing her to feel her emotions, etc… Keith then spends several minutes teaching the whole porch about fixing energy, about what it is and why it is so disempowering. The three women listen with deep interest, but do not seem to draw any parallel understanding that Keith’s words are subtly directed at them.
Meanwhile, I squirm as I observe, knowing that Keith must have a reason for not intervening more directly. Finally, Keith turns back to work with Julie.
Dancing Expression
For ten minutes, Julie dances around the issue and struggles to find a way to express her frustrations about fixing energy, while at the same time desperately attempting to do so in a soft generic manner that does not directly offend anyone. Finally, after others on the porch repeatedly challenge and badger her to be more direct and honest, Julie admits that she has a very strong aversion to the fixing that just took place in front of her.
“I’m right behind you,” I quickly and publicly express my support and understanding for Julie’s bold words. “I have had my own lifelong journey with fixing energy, and I totally understand what you are sharing.”
I can see that the others are annoyed by my support of Julie. Without backing down from my own position, I take a back seat and observe what happens next. The awkwardness increases dramatically when the three women begin to debate and reason with Julie, practically psychoanalyzing her as they insist that no fixing was taking place, that instead Julie is angry, resistant, and projecting onto them – that the issue is all Julie’s and has nothing to do with them.
“Please stop,” Julie requests, “I am not here to work with you. I want to work directly with Keith.”
I totally relate to Julie’s request. There have been so many times on the porch that people have interrupted Keith to try to give me advice. Every time I have felt annoyed, and rarely does their advice or counsel even come close to resonating.
Story Of My Life
What I am witnessing resonates deeply with my own process. I recognize myself in Julie and in what she is doing.
In my perception, it appears to me that Julie is doing profound inner work, facing her fears, and boldly expressing her truth … and her reward for doing so is that she is the one that others want to blame for being the troublemaker. Her perceptions are real and valid, yet she is being badgered and psychoanalyzed for expressing them.
For me, this is the story of my life … desperately attempting to be true to myself while constantly having stones tossed in my direction.
I only smile when, as Keith resumes working with Julie, he does the “relationship-rule turn around” with her, pointing out that nothing changes until she does, that she is the one that needs to go inside to heal her sensitivities to the “new age circus” and “fixing energies” out there. Keith may as well have been speaking to me.
Sharpened Knives
Meanwhile, I am sinking deeply into a feeling of intense hatred toward the “energy of fixing” that was a frequent occurrence with my beloved mother when I was tiny. I feel the energy of me doing my own genuine processing as a child, trying to explain and defend myself, while the adult fixers in my life got out their knives and sharpening stones, determinedly preparing to cut out my flaws and dysfunction so that I could be more like them – so that I could be saved in God’s Kingdom.
It is clear today that I feel the “fixing energy” as being a significant portion of my God/separation drama. I realize that the resistance that I feel when trying to send love to that little “child-that-was-me” – that the emotions of heavy thick resistance that always prevent me from doing so – are actually emotions of deep hatred for that rebellious brat (me) that desperately refused to be broken … until I finally gave up and succumbed, that is.
As I attempt to send love to my inner child, my eyes instead fill with tears as I sink deeply into the pain. I am trying to love that anger … trying to love the judgment … trying to love the make-wrongs.
I know that the painful emotions flowing through me must be yet-another childhood regression, and I attempt to not identify with these emotions … yet the experience is so overwhelming and powerful that I find it extremely difficult to not get lost. I am barely hanging on as the observer.
I know that what I am feeling is a projected form of my God drama, but I also know that this childhood pain is quite real, and I need to feel it to the core. I simultaneously try to bring in love to assist, but the more I try, the more I feel confused and lost.
Uninvited Advice
Julie soon looks over at me and asks what I am feeling. I begin to blubber as I share details of my inner journey – details of how I was so profoundly fixed as a child – details of the intense anger that is flowing through me.
A few people immediately jump in to interrupt, attempting to add supportive feedback and suggestions to me, but I ignore them, ask them to please stop, and lovingly point out that their feedback may be well intended, but that it is not serving me.
No Way Out
By now, I clearly recognize that this whole ceremony has been a beautiful setup for my process – but it is also quite obvious that the ceremony is beautifully serving others, including Julie and Sarah.
I am so deeply stuck in my emotion that I see no way out … no hope of returning to love and light. I want to release my anger, but do not feel safe doing so in this group. I am not even sure it would be productive if I tried. Instead, I sit quietly on my pillow, feeling the emotion to the core while attempting to stifle all external expression. I know Keith is aware of what I am going through, but he skillfully ignores me. Intuitions tell me that he is waiting for me to make the first move.
Finally, I look at Keith, make eye contact, and express how stuck I am. I stop short of actually verbalizing a request for help. As I sit in my pain, Keith does not respond. Soon, I lower my head and return to my muffled tears, letting the emotion flow the hard way. Unbeknownst to me, Keith has been motioning to Julie for her to come over to help me.
As Julie finally sits in front of me, I briefly glance into her eyes but quickly return to resistance, lowering my head and returning to my tears.
“Look in her eyes,” Keith guides me.
I raise my head, briefly making eye contact before again returning my gaze to the ground.
Fixing Versus Assisting
Keith repeatedly nudges me to further connect with Julie. Finally, after considerable resistance, I reach out and hug her. Seconds later, I am sobbing while Julie holds me.
When my emotion finally subsides, Julie and I engage in a beautiful conversation. She explains how Keith kept pointing to her to come over and help me … and how she had resisted because she did not want to be guilty of the same fixing energy about which she had just gotten upset.
“What you are doing is not fixing,” I quickly share with Julie. “You are holding space for me and sharing loving support while assisting and empowering me to go deeper in my process.”
As the ceremony quickly dissolves into small social conversations, Julie and I sit and talk for more than an hour.
Life Parallels
“It seems like whenever you begin to go into deep emotion,” Julie shares her observation, “that you get interrupted and left alone.”
“Yeah, I feel like Keith is doing that to me on purpose,” I explain to Julie, also pointing out that this has only been going on for a few weeks.
“I think it is related to my God drama,” I add. “I have been clinging to a need for outside help and have not been trusting myself … and I have this deep belief that when I am independent and in my power, that God will no longer have a need to help me. I really believe that Keith, whether he is aware of it or not, is graphically showing me my God drama in a stage-play format.”
Soon, I am sharing much of my life journey with Julie, exploring how my God drama so deeply parallels real life experience – experience repeatedly confirming to me that the more self-sufficient I am, the more alone I end up – the more abandoned I feel.
Perfect Triggers
Eventually Keith sits down to join our conversation. In our loving and light-hearted discussion, I get bluntly honest with Keith regarding my frustrations about feeling ignored for the last week or two.
“When you need help, ask for it,” Keith responds with a smile.
“Keith,” I respond, “I have rarely needed to ASK for help in the past. You always jump in to work with me exactly when I need it. Now it seems that you ignore me a lot … and when I do genuinely ask for help, you either continue to ignore me, point out how stuck-in-my-head I am, or else you get impatient and frustrated with me as you did when you role-played my mother a few days ago. It seems like when you do talk to me, it is done with extreme vocal emphasis, as if you are frustrated and impatient, trying to trigger me. My heart is pure and I need loving patience and compassion.”
“Brenda,” Keith responds with a smile. “Whether I am doing it on purpose, or whether I am a dense jerk asshole does not matter for you. It is the same from your perspective … you need to see it as your creation. You need to look at that. It is not about me and it is not about what it is about … and nothing changes until you do.”
“And if I AM being a dense jerk asshole,” Keith adds with loving confidence, “then that is my own issue to look at.”
I just want to slap Keith. I know he is right, but the ego in me wants him to admit he is mean and wrong. I want an apology. In actuality, I know that everything he has done, and continues to do, is quite perfect … triggering me in exactly the ways I need to be triggered.
“I think I am triggering a lot of growth in you,” I lovingly share with Keith.
“Everyone does,” He responds with a smile.
A Suggested Vacation
It is shortly before 7:00 p.m. when Julie and I give Keith quick good night hugs. Julie needs to catch a night boat to San Pedro, so I walk with her back to the boat dock.
“Brenda,” Julie lovingly suggests at one point in our delightful conversation, “you need a vacation.”
“How I wish I could,” I respond with a glow in my eyes, “but my heart tells me otherwise. As difficult and often frustrating as this deep inner work is, I am right where I need to be, doing what I need to be doing.”
“But your eyes lit up when we talked about it,” Julie pushes a little harder.
“I have to admit, a vacation would be really nice,” I ponder with a smile. “Right now, I am deeply burned out on inner work, but it really does not feel right.”
A Day Of Rebellion
Tuesday morning, March 27, 2012, I awaken feeling quite rebellious. That vacation idea is sounding extremely attractive right now. Giving up on my journey feels like a very viable option.
I am so exhausted from incessant inner work and from having my painful buttons pushed. It has been four months of being intensely triggered by Paul and others – six nonstop months of digging through emotional pain that I had no idea continued to hide inside. I am frustrated to the max, running on empty, and my brain feels as if it is ready to fry.
For breakfast, I eat an ice cream sandwich. For lunch I dine on popcorn, a slice of cheese, and an apple, and for dinner, I treat my rebellious inner children to a burger and fries.
The rest of the day is filled to the brim with rebellious emotions and six back-to-back movies on my computer.
I feel utterly alone. I have no desire to go outside or to socialize with anyone. I am disconnected and deeply disoriented. I wish I could dig a hole and just crawl inside.
The strange thing about all this is that, even in my rebellion and refusal to do anything at all, that I still felt Higher Energies flowing today – I still felt a continuous glimmer of inner peace. An observer part of me was conscious throughout the day, lovingly giving me permission to rebel and do absolutely nothing, confidently knowing that all is well, that today is actually precisely what I needed.
In retrospect, it is quite clear that another profound layer of God drama emotions was flowing through me – emotions triggered by the profound dysfunctional belief that being strong and empowered – being connected to Higher Energies – is always met with abandonment and aloneness, with being left to fend for myself and never again receive the help I think I need.
A Team Dream
Around 5:00 a.m. on Wednesday morning, I awaken with a start. Memories of a very vivid dream continue to flood my consciousness. I quickly get up, scribble a few notes, and begin to ponder.
In the dream, I was playing in a basketball game on what feels like an all-female team. In a chase for a loose ball, an opposing player tips the basketball out of bounds. I run to retrieve the ball and turn to throw it back into play when an opposing player challenges me, insisting that the ball belongs to the other team. Finally, the referee hands the ball back to me and blows his whistle.
When I look out onto the court, deep confusion suddenly overwhelms me. Rather than the expected sight of two teams of five players each, I see a basketball court crowded by hundreds of people. Most of them women, all of them dressed in random non-uniform clothing, and I do not recognize a single face.
My team has been switched and I am in a state of near panic. I do not know to whom I need to throw the ball. In an effort to get my bearings, I pause and ask everyone on my team to please raise their hands. In response, perhaps ten hands go up in the air scattered throughout the crowd, one being quite near to me. I still do not recognize any of the faces, and know that I will never be able to remember who my teammates are.
“How can I possibly play this game when I do not even know who I am playing with?” I ask in frustration as I suddenly wake up from the dream.
New Game, New Rules
After brief meditative pondering, the deeper meaning of the dream seems intuitively obvious.
I am extremely lost and frustrated right now. I am refusing to play the game anymore because it suddenly feels as if all of the rules have changed behind my back. I do not know any of my new teammates (Higher Beings), and I am terrified to continue playing while in such a state of disconnect and not knowing. My rebellion of yesterday is a natural pause in my process … my basketball was knocked out of bounds. It is now time to step back from the rulebook … to quit playing by the old rules … to realize that I do not even begin to understand the rules to this new game. I need to step back from the trauma and drama; I need time to regroup; and I need time to get to know my new teammates.
Teeth-chattering tears stream down my cheeks as I scribble my insights. I feel so alone, so lost, so like a fish out of water, so wandering into unknown territory. I want to run away … to run back to the familiar … to what I know … back to what was safe in my old world.
But I know that, at least for me, the old world is gone. There is no going back.
… to be continued …
Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved