Friday morning, April 20, 2012, I finally crawl out of bed at around 9:00 a.m.. It has been a long night where the fluid in my lungs again had me up and coughing several times. Even now, I know that I am not sick, that the fluid in my lungs is an energetic metaphor of emotions (represented by fluid) preventing me from flowing my life force (breath). In the midst of all this physical discomfort, I have somehow found a way to relax and enjoy the vibrating energy in my body.
After a busy morning of running errands, I rush out to Keith’s home, being slightly behind schedule.
A Fearful Flow
The chocolate ceremony today begins just as any other. During the Glow Meditation, I focus on relaxing and watching the energies in my head and abdomen. As I attempt to relax my jaw, more pains form in my head, especially in the forehead area. Later, as I try to relax my upper thighs, I begin to experience feelings of panic in my lower chakras.
When the meditation ends, at the point where Keith would normally begin doing individual work with others, he instead remains seated, indicating that he is open to helping anyone who asks. For a long while, the porch is mostly quiet. A few people assist each other with mild emotional release, but as far as my perceptions tell me, no one seems interested in doing any deep inner work.
Keith remains mostly quiet, and I simply meditate silently, continuing my focus on deeper relaxation.
“You are being taken into a place of trusting and not needing to know or understand with rational mind,” Keith turns and briefly speaks to me. “You are just allowing and trusting.”
“Keith,” I speak up a few minutes later, “As I imagine myself simply floating down a river, trusting and allowing, some deep fear is coming up.”
Just Fix it
Not letting Keith even respond, a woman I will call Jill speaks up. She is deeply psychic, but is also profoundly in her ego and not doing her own inner work.
“You have a constant storm inside of you,” Jill interrupts the conversation. “Just allow it to settle.”
I simply ignore her uninvited comment. Keith soon begins to work with me on the topic of developing more trust.
“Brenda,” Jill again interrupts me a few minutes later, “when I connect with your energy, you are deeply stuck in your left brain. You just need to let go more, and be lighter…”
Finally, after repeatedly ignoring a few other such comments, I decide to speak up.
“Jill, can I give you some feedback about the things you are saying to me?” I ask politely.
“Sure,” Jill responds, “I would love feedback.”
“What you are saying is quite accurate as to what is energetically going on inside of me,” I speak lovingly, “but your comments are coming from a place of being clueless about the process that I am going through, about why I have these blocks, and about why I am stuck in my head. You are deeply gifted about seeing what is going on in my energies, but oblivious as to my process. It feels as if you are saying “just fix it” with no compassion or understanding behind your words.”
Just Stop it
“For example,” I share with Jill a few minutes later, “I am working with a deep block to receiving love, one that I further understood on Wednesday as related to events at age twelve when I further strengthened my wall against love. You would be quite right in saying that I have a wall preventing me from receiving love, but I PUT THAT WALL THERE AS A TEACHER.”
“I have a journey with that wall,” I continue. “I am learning to understand the agony and humiliation of being so stuck in my head that I cannot move forward … and hearing people who have not experienced such stuck-ness just throw out fixing comments does not help at all. Yes, I am learning the hard way, which is how I set it up before this lifetime … to help me develop compassion for people who are deeply stuck like me. When I do open these blockages – blockages that are perfect where I am in my process – I will be able to have true compassion for the people I am working with. This will allow me to be patient and loving when offering true assistance to someone who is stuck like me rather than just telling them what is wrong with them and how easy the fix is if they will just STOP IT.”
An Ego Polarity
Jill does not appear to understand anything I am saying, and with an air of frustration, immediately defends herself as being right.
“It IS that easy,” Jill insists with firmness, “and I am just following guidance in what I am telling you. I have received beautiful feedback from others when I share my guidance.”
“Guided by your own ego,” I ponder obvious thoughts that I know are true, but do not dare verbalize.
To my delight, Keith quickly comes to my rescue and begins to work with Jill, trying to help her to understand where she is coming from.
“Is what you are saying coming from Brenda’s Higher Self, or is it something that you just think she needs to hear?” Keith asks Jill a pointed question. “If it is the latter, then it is coming from your ego.”
I am deeply grateful for Keith’s intervention. I was beginning to wonder if I was out of line, and if perhaps he might be mad at me for trying to speak up. I am thrilled that he is backing me up on this one.
Keith tries for several minutes to help Jill understand the difference between being a channel and a psychic – explaining that a channel speaks words exactly as they come from a higher source, but a psychic gets downloaded information and then interprets it through their own experience – often distorting that interpretation with ego if they have not cleaned up their own inner issues first.
“Your biggest issue,” Keith bluntly speaks to Jill, “is to learn to use your gifted magical psychic abilities from a positive and empowering polarity rather than from an ego polarity.”
On The Couch
Jill simply does not get it and strongly resists Keith’s attempts to teach her, barely stopping short of telling him he is flat out wrong.
Before her conversation with Keith is even over, several other people immediately jump into the mix to start psychoanalyzing me – asking me lots of questions that clearly imply that they believe they know more than me and want to help me see the light.
“Whoa,” I put my hand out and ask them to stop. “Please do not put me on the psychiatrist’s couch. I am deeply immersed in a powerful process right now, and what I am doing is a part of that perfectly designed flow of my process. There is nothing wrong here, and I do NOT need any rational mind analysis from others.”
For several minutes, the chattering goes on as people continue to express their head opinions. I simply disengage and tune out, retreating to deep meditation where I know I need to be. I am beginning to see the events in front of me as a powerful stage play of the left-brained consensus reality of my childhood.
Stage Play Alert
Within a minute or two, the entire ceremony begins to fall apart as one young woman expresses a desire to go deeper. As soon as Keith begins to guide her, a young man stands up beside her and begins to roll a cigarette, making a very noisy and distracting disturbance right next to her.
“Your distraction energy is your defense against going into your own issues,” Keith explains to the young man. “Please either hold space or go out into the garden with your disturbance.”
The young man immediately protests and talks back to Keith, defending his behavior as just fine and normal. Others quickly jump into the conversation, and for nearly twenty minutes, Keith just sits by and observes with a detached grin as the porch goes crazy with rational mind conversation.
Given the bizarre nature of what is happening, my “stage play alert” has again gone off. I clearly recognize that what is happening is for my benefit. I find myself in a beautiful role-play. I am an alien teenager sitting in a roomful of absolutely clueless aliens who just want to remain at the surface level and be funny … to talk and rebelliously disrupt others who want to do real work … and who are too terrified to go anywhere deep within themselves while vehemently defending their behavior as the norm.
In this role, I am the alien who is that troublemaker that no one understands. I am emotional, withdrawn, and cannot relate to anyone on the porch right now (except for Keith of course). In fact, I have no desire to even attempt to connect or relate to anyone. I see them as people who just want to judge me and fix me – as people that see me as being the one with the problem, when in reality I am the only one being courageous enough to do real and deep inner work.
Deep Pondering
“Wow,” I ponder silently. “I AM that teenager. This is a perfect setup for showing me how foreign and alien I felt as a teen … how absolutely hopeless I was about fitting in … not even wanting to fit in, while at the same time desperately wishing that I could. I absolutely knew that I could not be like the others around me – that it would kill me – that if I got close to them they would learn the truth of my inner struggle, and that would be worse than death.”
As I ponder those teenage years, I clearly feel the “this is what is wrong with you” statements – the “you need to do such and such to make yourself better, blah, blah, blah” statements. I picked up the intense fixing energy from everywhere – from family, from church, and from peers. Much of the intensity of that fixing energy came unknowingly from the fact that I could feel their emotions and judgments, whether expressed verbally or not.
My heart aches as I ponder the disempowering teenage feelings of judgmental superiority that I picked up from the more “enlightened ones” around me – while none of them had even a clue about the deep painful process that was my life … how frightening it was and how courageous, real, and genuine I was on the inside.
Crazy Continued Chaos
“This is profound,” I painfully ponder.
I spend at least the next hour in this space of deep self-observation, feeling everything while focusing on bringing in more self-love for that teenager.
Meanwhile, the porch continues to be rebellious, distracted, chaotic, and shallow – all a perfect setup to take me deeper and deeper into my stage-play meditation.
Finally, in the midst of this crazy continued chaos, one person makes a spontaneous request.
“Why don’t we all join hands and connect to help bring the energy of the group back together?” This person suggests.
Remembering the many times that Keith has told people at the beginning of ceremony that what we do here is not a touchy-feely hug pile, but instead we work on light shadow and dark shadow issues … I inconspicuously roll my eyes at this comment. The last thing I want to do right now is to join the touch-feely consensus reality of sheeple that is rebelliously refusing to do any deep inner work.
“That is not what we do here,” I quietly comment aloud as no one listens.
I find deep clarity in the fact that even this circle of hand-holding is a powerful metaphor for me – showing me how the world around me as a teen tried to make everything better by touchy-feely surface connections – something in which I simply could not participate with all of the sordid social secrets that were shamefully buried in my heart.
Courage To Be Different
Everyone on the porch joins hands – everyone except for me, that is. I lovingly refrain from participation, leaving a conspicuous gap in what is now one-person short of a completely connected circle.
I am not being rebellious or obstinate in a negative way … but instead I know I am doing this in a deeply empowered way. This is actually incredibly powerful for my process. I am being given a stage-play opportunity to follow the crowd so that I will fit in … to sacrifice my feelings in order to conform to public opinion. I instead choose to simply be in my power while I meditate and focus on my own personal connection to Source. I am refusing to go along with the consensus reality. I do not need to fit in with the others or with this process. I need to be meditating in my own.
As I sit alone, going deeper into a mild high-vibration connection with Source, I ponder a lesson from the book “Oneness” by Rasha. This book frequently talks of how each of us is on our own solo journey – that no one else can make this journey for us – that it is a journey we must make in our own unique way, following our own inner guidance. Somehow, this thought gives me the courage to be different … to be true to what my heart is telling me to do right now.
Profound Experiential Learning
After this nice quiet interlude, the group is still absolutely insistent on not doing inner work. One woman actually speaks up and says she is tired of doing inner work – that she does not want to do inner work – that instead she wants to learn how to manifest. She acts quite proud of herself for making this rebellious statement. Others in the group quickly agree.
I am not the least bit surprised when Keith lovingly complies, going along with the group energy while continuing to deeply serve my process in this bizarre personally-created episode of The Muppet Show.
Soon, Keith guides the group through a meditation related to manifestation. When the meditation is over, Keith briefly connects with me, asking how I am doing.
“I’m doing some very deep inner work,” I explain to Keith with a huge smile on my face. “I am that twelve-year-old and teenage-self in an alien world, surrounded by people who would judge, fix, and not understand me at all … experientially learning why I felt so isolated and alone … finding my own inner self-love … learning who I am and knowing that I have my own personal connection to Source.”
I stop short of verbally expressing the words, “and clearly recognizing that I was indeed the only sane one.” It is obvious to me that such a statement would not go over well in this group. It is enough to simply remember those words that Keith has told me several times … words about how, as a child, I was indeed the only one in my family who understood what my magical connection to Source was all about.
Deeply Relating
As Keith and I converse for a few minutes from a rational mind level, he congratulates me for being deeply immersed in powerful inner work. In this short conversation, he validates precisely where I am and what I am doing.
I clearly know that I do not need to hear this validation … but intuitively recognize that Keith’s words are really intended as educational statements for the rest of the group, just in case someone might actually be listening.
“Brenda,” one young woman suddenly speaks up. “Are you sure that all of what you are feeling is your own … that you are not taking it in from others?”
“Yeah,” I respond with confidence. “I am very sure that at least most of it is my own pain and emotions.”
“I ask because I deeply relate to what you are saying,” this young woman continues. “I was the same as a teenager.”
I make direct eye contact with this young woman for a while. It is a beautiful emotional connection while it lasts … until I soon decide to close my eyes and go back inside.
Resisting Depth
After Keith conducts another group meditation for the others who refuse to do personal work, he again checks in with me.
“I am still that teenager in a world of aliens who do not understand me, who just want to fix or judge and remain at the surface,” I respond without concern for who is listening.
As I finish my private sharing with Keith, Paul starts to mumble out loud in words that I cannot quite decipher – but he is obviously making fun of me and ridiculing me. I simply smile and ignore him. I know who I am, and I know that what I am doing right now is actually quite profound.
“Explore this deeper,” Keith encourages me. “Go back in time as your own future self and connect with that teenager.”
“I’ve been doing that all along,” I explain to Keith. “I’m trying to do it now but there is so much pain and emotion that I am having a difficult time focusing and remaining connected. That teen is extremely resistant to love and connection.”
Keith continues to push me to explore further, but I am extremely self-conscious, knowing that what I am talking about is an indirect slam at others in the group who are unknowingly role-playing for me. I do not want to talk about this publicly in more explicit terms because I do not wish to speak negatively of my star actors. I know it is not about them, even though they have played their parts brilliantly.
I am fine with exploring my beautiful process in silence. I do not wish to make a further scene in a group that feels extremely unsafe to me.
If You Can Allow
Keith continues encouraging me. Finally, I resist and speak.
“I do not feel safe going into emotions with this group,” I express quietly to Keith. “It is too surface-level and non-supportive of any emotional depths.”
“Most people here today are terrified to go beneath the surface right now,” Keith lovingly responds in a louder voice.
I know Keith is using me to make a point, but I feel extremely uneasy being the center of attention, when I feel as if the vast majority of those present are breathing down my neck with judgments – real or imagined on my part. I wish Keith would just back off and leave me alone, but I know that this is actually good for me, and with his support and validation, I realize I can continue.
Finally, a very stuck young woman comes over and sits in front of me, placing the palms of her hands on my knees. I allow and ignore her, keeping my eyes closed. I feel her attempts to help me … sensing that she is trying to fix me … but also sensing a genuine and caring side to what she is attempting to do. The teenager inside me cannot receive this gesture of love.
“Brenda,” Keith intervenes, “if you can receive, her love is pure and real. But if it is not working for you, I can ask her to stop.”
I have not said a word and I continue to remain silent, eyes closed … still allowing. As I do so, I begin to get quite emotional and start to cry, but I contain most of my tears on the inside. I simply do not feel safe going into this emotion right here, right now.
A Flying Leap
“Brenda,” Keith guides me tenderly, “you have created one reality after another of people who could not understand and support you in your process, as a child, as a teen, with your own children, and now with this group. It does not matter if they see you as a crybaby and judge you. You need to go into these feelings and allow yourself to feel them.”
After hearing Keith’s gentle validating words, I allow the crying to amp up a little bit, but I remain quite hesitant. I absolutely HATE being put on the spot like this, having to speak my harsh implicit truth to others that do not understand while also crying as I do so. I deeply believe that they see me with disdain and are not at all connected to what I am doing. As I ponder, I realize that perhaps three others in the group today might actually understand and care.
I can feel Paul’s deep judgment … and I can feel the same judgment from the energy of most others in the group. I am not happy with my predicament in which I am being encouraged to cry in such a hostile-feeling environment.
As I further humiliate myself, I focus on my lesson of learning to speak my truth … and to be my truth with humility and love … while simultaneously not giving a flying leap about what anyone else thinks of me. Again, I focus on increasing my self-love.
Personal Prerogative
Keith continues to work with me a little more. We are talking out loud, but by now the group energy is so distracted and scattered that most everyone else is no longer listening or holding space.
“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “as a child, there was no one that you could go to talk to. You were an alien around people who could not and would never understand. You set it up this way. There was no one like you that you could talk to.”
I know Keith is saying this for the benefit of any others who just might be paying attention. We both know that I already understand this topic. But then Keith deeply shocks me by a few quiet verbal statements related to my gender struggles. I know his intentions are innocent, but the things he is talking about are things he has never before brought up in public – and for him to quietly discuss my gender issues in front of this crazy group today makes me extremely uncomfortable.
Yes, of course, I am quite open about being transgendered, about having grown up as a little boy. But I humbly and respectfully reserve the right to share that fact with those to whom I choose to share it. I trust that anyone who feels guided to read my blog would not be reading if such knowledge would shatter them … but I do not blabber my personal situation around to everyone. I feel no need to do so. I have shared before in a few ceremonial groups, but I always share such information when MY guidance tells me to do so.
I am not upset with Keith, but I quickly scold him and tell him that he has committed a no-no in my book. I feel extremely judged by the group today and do not want most of them to have further fuel to dump on me. I am in no way trying to hide my past. I am actually quite proud of who I am and what I have accomplished in my journey. But I still do consider it a very personal prerogative as to whom I share my story. I reserve the right to share my secrets as my own heart guides.
For the record, Keith later profusely apologizes. I am so grateful for his guidance.
Ruffling Feathers
When the ceremony is over, I beg Keith for a half hour of private time to discuss one of the most bizarre ceremonies of my stay here in San Marcos.
“I know it was all perfect,” I express to Keith when we are finally alone, “and I could tell it was all a beautiful setup for my process – a beautiful process for me – one that you fed into whether you were aware of it at the time or not. But I felt extreme discomfort today at having to be the bad guy … the one that everyone else on the porch wanted to judge and hate.”
“I do not feel comfortable with you pushing me into going deeper in my projections while the people that are triggering those projections are sitting right there on the porch.” I add with anxiety.
“Brenda,” Keith responds with confidence. “First of all, I want to make it clear that you were NOT projecting. Those were real events on the porch that took you back to teenage feelings … and what you said today was very appropriate … things that they needed to hear. It was important for you to lovingly speak your truth today, and those people needed to hear your emotional feelings … your lack of feeling safe … and your feeling of being judged, etc…”
“They may not have heard any of it,” Keith continues reassuring me, “but they needed to have it said to them. What you said to Jill early in the ceremony was absolutely appropriate, and I backed you up in what you told her. She simply could not hear the truth, but she DID need to have her feelings ruffled.”
“I just don’t like being the one doing the ruffling,” I express my doubts.
“Brenda,” Keith reassures me. “This is part of healing your fear of conflict. As a healer, you will ruffle a lot of feathers in the future, and this is part of learning to love yourself, to trust guidance, to say what you need to say, and to be OK with that and with who you are.”
A Confident Response
“But Keith,” I express another deep concern. “If the porch continues to be like this from now on … if this type of behavior continues … I am not sure if I would even want to come to ceremonies anymore. Yes, it was deeply powerful for me today, but no, it was not fun, and it was not a safe space for doing inner work.”
“Brenda,” Keith surprises me by his confident response. “If there are very many more ceremonies like the one today, I will probably stop doing public ceremonies and start doing only private sessions.”
Wow, I cannot imagine a more powerful response than this. My worst fears quickly vanish into the nothingness from whence they came.
Interruption And validation
As this conversation nears completion, one of Keith’s workers stops by and I find it impossible to continue talking with someone listening in. But my heart is full, I am thrilled with my growth today in ceremony, and I recognize that Keith and I have already said everything that really needs to be said.
Keith offers to walk into town with me. I hope this will give us more one-on-one time, but his worker walks with us, and then we bump into another woman along the way.
“It was really a bizarre and different ceremony today,” Keith tells this woman.
Just hearing Keith share this observation with someone else gives me all the extra validation I need. And even as bizarre as the ceremony was, it was perhaps one of the most powerful ceremonies I have ever had, in its own unique and crazy sort of way.
A Personal Holodeck
As I type up detailed notes for the day, I remember something Keith had shared right before his worker showed up.
“This is your own personal holodeck,” Keith had emphasized with a giggle. “Everything on the porch today was your creation, with your personal script and cast of characters.”
From that perspective, I have to agree that what happened today was perfect, exactly what I needed for my growth and insight. From any other perspective, I could find thousands of reasons to be angry and upset – thousands of things to judge.
I choose to see it as a profound stage play … as my own personally created holodeck.
I find great peace in this choice.
An Issue Of Trust
Saturday morning, I awaken feeling tired and lethargic. I had felt quite content and peaceful about the ceremony last night, but this morning I am feeling extremely anxious. I still clearly recognize that the ceremony was a profoundly manifested personal gift to me – that in spite of being an extremely crazy day with an afternoon of distracting and rebellious people, I had come away deeply blessed.
“But my friend Pyper will be here next week,” I begin to panic. “She is flying all the way from Alaska to see me, and one of her primary interests is to participate in chocolate ceremonies. If a ceremony like that happens while she is here, I will be devastated and deeply embarrassed.”
I am nearly in freak-out mode as I march over to Keith’s home at 8:30 a.m. – desperately seeking something to reassure me that he will not allow Pyper’s time here to be an embarrassing waste.
“Brenda, you have a deep issue with trust,” Keith lovingly scolds me when I share my concerns. “You are not trusting Pyper, not trusting yourself, not trusting me, and not trusting that we each create our own reality – both individually and jointly. You need to trust that Pyper will create exactly the ceremonies that she needs.”
A Profound Tidbit
Our conversation soon leads further into the God Drama. As we dig deeper and deeper, I come to develop a clear understanding that as a teenager, I did not trust God. I did not understand that everything happens for a reason, and that Higher Energies were holding my hand every step of the way.
As a teenager, I believed that life was supposed to be safe and fun – yet repeatedly I was overwhelmed and beaten-down by circumstances, social ridicule, feeling abandoned, and meeting rejection. Whether it was only in my head or actual self-created events does not really matter.
Near the end of our conversation, Keith points out a profound tidbit of wisdom – one that deeply resonates in countless ways.
“What we are really working with here,” Keith casually points out, “is that when emotions are out of proportion with events, then that is a strong indicator that there is a trigger somewhere inside of you, one that you need to find and look at.”
As I thank Keith profusely for helping me to settle my “out of proportion” emotions, I can only think of one thing … my upcoming adventure.
A Guatemala Travel Adventure
At 10:25 a.m., I find myself riding in a little Tuk-tuk – a three-wheeled motorcycle with an enclosed passenger shell. My young driver quickly whisks me away on a ten-minute ride to nearby San Pablo where I climb into the back of an open-air pickup truck that then zooms rapidly up the winding mountain switchbacks with breath-taking views that lead to the ridge above Lake Atitlan. At the small town of Santa Clara, I leave the pickup truck and find an extremely crowded minivan that takes me the rest of the way to the main Inter-America highway. After an hour of traveling, my purse is now $4 emptier as I wait for a chicken bus that will take me to the town of Chimaltenango.
“Chicken bus” is the term of endearment that foreigners use to describe the refurbished school buses that carry the local people all over the roads of Guatemala – buses on which all kinds of cargo – sometimes even chickens – are transported.
A few minutes later, I flag down a chicken bus headed for Guatemala City. Two hours later, I ask the young baggage-handler/money-collector to tell me the best place to get off the bus in Chimaltenango. I have passed through this town before, but have never been off the bus. The remainder of my journey is now entering new territory for me. Once on the ground, after wandering around aimlessly for a minute or two, I ask someone where I might find the bus that goes to Antigua. He points back up the road and mumbles a few words that I do not fully understand. After walking a block, I ask more questions, and within minutes, I am safely aboard my final bus.
The Dimension Of Sleep
This final hour of winding through mountain roads and small towns finally ends when the bus stops at the end destination – a large market on the northwest side of Antigua. I have been in this market before, but it is huge and confusing. After fifteen minutes of winding through narrow pathways of vendors that sell all types of wares, I finally find my way through and onto the main streets of Antigua.
Again, I follow instincts and get quite lost. Finally, with the help of a traffic officer, I make my way to the central square of this beautiful and quite-popular tourist destination. From this place I know exactly how to get where I want to go – to a small neighborhood with many modest, reasonably priced hotels. It takes me a while, but I finally find a tiny hotel where I pay just over $10 for the night … no paperwork to fill out, no names to exchange … just a simple swapping of money for a key.
My next task is to reserve space on a morning shuttle to the airport in Guatemala City. An hour later, after finally holding a ticket in hand, I am gobbling down on a quick meal. It has been a long and exhausting day – a day of first restoring trust in my process, followed by hours of exhausting travel and settling in for the night.
At 7:00 p.m., feeling utterly exhausted, I turn off the single light bulb in this now-pitch-black barely-big-enough-for-a-bed room, surrendering to my need for sleep, only to discover that the pillows are, fat, hard, and very lumpy. It takes a while of peaceful and meditative relaxation before I eventually slip into the dimension of sleep.
An Inspired Meditation
At around 9:30 p.m., I suddenly awaken with the worst coughing fit I have had in a very long time. Every time I attempt to breathe deeply, I cough violently and uncontrollably as another small spray of fluid flees from my mouth. The coughing is relentless and unforgiving, and I am especially aware that the walls of this dark room are quite thin and not at all soundproof.
“My poor neighbors,” I ponder as I desperately attempt to relax and go back to sleep.
It is perhaps an hour later when the inner guidance finally wins – inner whispers telling me to give up on sleep, and to instead sit up and meditate. It is hours later, during the quiet stillness of early Sunday morning, when I finally end one of the most beautiful meditations I have ever experienced – one in which silent unspoken voices from other dimensions lovingly comfort a distraught and frightened twelve-year-old boy. For details, see my last blog, “Sordid Social Secrets.”
A Whole New Light
As I again rest on my pillow, I ponder words Keith had shared with me early yesterday morning.
“I feel like I want to try to put my process on hold while Pyper is here,” I had told Keith. “I want her week to be as fun as possible, and I don’t want to end up going into deep emotion and ruining it for her.”
“Brenda,” Keith had sternly-but-lovingly guided me. “That is the wrong approach. Pyper needs you to be real and genuine, doing your own work, continuing your own process.”
As I further ponder these inspired words, I suddenly realize something quite profound.
“I think Pyper is coming here to help me at the height of my own process,” I ponder in surprised shock. “Of course she is coming here for her own growth, but she is also coming here to play a life-saving role for me. This trip has been in the potential works for two years, and it suddenly happens now. I cannot imagine a more perfect time for her to join me in my process. We have both manifested this time together and it will be perfect. And right now, I desperately need the giggles that I know she will bring with her.”
“Of all the people in the world,” I ponder with a pre-Pyper giggle, “she is one of only a small handful of magical angels that I could turn to right now.”
As I drift off to sleep for the second time tonight in this pitch-black room, I feel the eager excitement of this coming week with a whole new light.
Trust And Anticipation
Early Sunday morning at 7:00 a.m., I receive a text message on my newly-adopted cell phone. As I read the message, I learn that my dear friend is now boarding her plane in Miami. Excitement giggles in my veins as I hurry out to find breakfast.
At 9:00 a.m., a minivan parks on the street outside of my tiny hotel. It is my airport shuttle. Soon we are bouncing all over the cobblestone streets of Antigua, picking up other passengers.
As I ponder the magical sights around me, profound gratitude warms my heart for one of the most bizarre and growth-filled ceremonies ever, just two days ago on Keith’s magical porch.
Eager anticipation overwhelms me as overflowing trust tells me that all is absolutely perfect. I trust the wonder of it all. I know the world as I see it is indeed my own personal holodeck. I know that Pyper and I will jointly create an unbelievably amazing week filled with powerful chocolate ceremonies, grateful giggle fests, Mayan fire ceremonies, shopping, talking, swimming … and maybe even a little sleeping somewhere in there.
I cannot get to that airport soon enough.
Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved