An Excruciating Emotional Reality

July 19th, 2012

Crazy stories swarm my head as I spend a quiet Sunday morning, June 10, 2012, attempting to center and ground myself. Even though I absolutely know that the last two chocolate ceremonies were perfect for what I needed, bringing profound growth and understanding to my inner-work journey, incessant inner stories demand and insist otherwise.

The inner bullshit generator is insisting that one specific man is responsible for the overabundance of shallow and stuck masculine energy on the porch – that he is intentionally bringing in the distractions and indirectly driving away those who would want to focus on real inner work.

I attempt to ignore these inner storytellers, recognizing them as ego and projections of past childhood pain – but in spite of my best efforts, the stories persistently nip at my heels all morning. I realize as I prepare to walk out to Keith’s porch that these inner stories are a major setup for my process today.

Questioning Reality Creation

To my shock, the afternoon chocolate ceremony is very small. In addition to Keith and myself, we start out with only two other men and one other woman. The woman and one man have been major contributors to past stuck energy on the porch. The other man is new, and it turns out he sees himself as a teacher in the area of sexual energies.

“Wow, I am already having a heart orgasm,” this new man exclaims a few minutes after drinking his chocolate. “It is OK to talk about heart orgasms, isn’t it?”

The other two quickly join in to this man’s sexual-energy discussion as I withdraw in extreme discomfort. I feel so deeply triggered that I am ready to stand up and leave the porch … right now.

“At least stay for a little while,” my heart encourages me. “Remember that you create or allow everything, and that this is happening for a reason.”

“But why would I manifest this?” I argue with my heart. “I wouldn’t do that … so why did I? What do I need to learn from this deeply triggering situation?”

I feel extremely shut down, still considering leaving when two other women show up on the porch. I do not serve chocolate to the newcomers. In fact, I am so rebellious that I do not even glance upward. I just sit in my stories, desperately attempting to raise my vibrations, trying to ride the elevator in my high-rise apartment. It does not help at all when I occasionally do glance upward, only to see the man who made the “heart orgasm” comment grinning in my direction, attempting to lock me into sustained eye contact. I quickly close my eyes and look downward, wanting to vomit.

‘Nun’ Of The Above

Keith guides a very unusual ceremony – one that makes sense given the stuck nature of those on the porch today. Without any type of introductory discussion or meditation, Keith simply meditates silently, as do I, while many on the porch engage in bantering conversation. Keith does eventually mention that he is not going to make usual rounds of the porch – but that he is available to work with anyone who wants to speak up and ask for assistance.

Finally, after perhaps an hour of silence, one of the new women speaks up to ask for help.

“I would like to talk about my issue, and I believe that others are working on the same thing,” This woman begins. “There is a part of me that absolutely knows that I either get a relationship, or I get spirituality … but I do NOT get both … it is one or the other.”

“‘Nun’ of the above,” Keith jokes back, referring to a metaphor he occasionally uses when describing that many people, in their past lives, were trained in spiritual traditions where their teachings profoundly demanded that to be spiritual they absolutely must abstain from all sexual/relationship energy. Thus, the “Nun” reference in Keith’s comment, referring to the most common tradition of Nuns and Monks who had a celibacy requirement.

Based on experience, I totally believe Keith is going to guide this woman into a past-life regression where he will help her to explore such a belief by exploring what she did in that lifetime. But instead, Keith guides her into a subconscious journey. I resist at first, but soon opt to follow along in my own way.

Stern Demands

Soon, Keith has guided her into an inner conference room, deep in her subconscious.

“Sit on one end of the table,” Keith guides the woman. “Have your Higher Self, inner children, and guides, etc…, sit on one side, and then invite this part of you – the part that absolutely knows that you are not allowed to have both spirituality AND a relationship – to sit on the other end of the table.”

As the woman meditates into this inner environment, I attempt to do the exact same thing, but quickly experience extreme resistance – resistance that refuses to allow me to sense any type of connection to the energy at the other end of my table.

Finally, several minutes later, I sense the presence of a very strong, judgmental, stern, pushy, forceful, and controlling energy sitting at the far end of the table. I do not see a visual, but am shocked to strongly sense my own dear mother’s face as representing this energy. It is an energy sternly demanding that I follow my Fundamentalist Christian teachings about sexuality – point blank – no exceptions.

Guaranteed Loss Of Love

“Ask this resistance part of you to release some of the resistance onto the table in front of it,” Keith guides the other woman. “You are not yet completely letting it go … just temporarily taking it outside onto the table.”

As I try to imagine this mother/resistance part of me doing this, I experience extreme stubborn refusal on the part of this energy, refusing to participate in this temporary-release process. Finally, as I repeatedly focus and intend, I sense a very tiny bit of this resistance energy on the table. It is not much … just a small token. Meanwhile, I am experiencing intense fear and anger at this aspect of myself – an aspect continuing to carry my mother’s face.

“I absolutely KNOW that undoing this religious and family programming in the area of relationships and sexuality means guaranteed loss of ALL future love from family and religious friends,” A sudden feeling intuitively consumes me. “I cannot release this programming … there will be deep judgment all around if I do so … I MUST CONFORM and restrict my sexual beliefs and behaviors to fit into that childhood box … PERIOD!”

“Ask that part of you what it needs from you,” Keith guides the other woman.

As I keep following along, I recognize that this resistance voice with my mother’s face is an actual aspect of my loyal energy that I literally put there sometime during my childhood and/or youth – that I put it there to protect me … to keep me safe and alive … and that I owe it deep gratitude and love. Had I not asked this part of my energy to keep me in the box, I would likely have done things that would indeed have caused all loss of love from family and religion – doing so during a period of my life when it was crucial and important to maintain stability.

But as I ask Bobby and Sharon (my inner children) to go sit by that resistance energy … to give it love … I begin to sink into deep agitated tears as nausea swells in my abdomen.

Crabby Metaphors

As Keith guides the other woman to release more and more of her own conditioning to the middle of the table – to her Higher Self, I try to do the same. But I increasingly meet stern resistance and raging fear. I experience so much emotional discomfort in this meditative process that I cannot function. Twice, I actually go into the bathroom in an attempt to vomit out the agonizing nausea in my abdomen, and twice, I return to my seat, unsuccessful, still in extreme discomfort.

“I want this sexual and relationship conditioning out of me,” I hear the nausea metaphorically screaming.

But I have no luck. After returning to my seat, feeling agitated and noticeably disturbed, one man makes brief eye contact with me. Just the sight of his concern makes me want to sob – but I do not feel safe doing that on the porch today – I will not allow myself to sink into deeper emotional release.

Meanwhile, I watch as Keith works with another man who has shown up late – working at a surface level – talking about a metaphor of how crab fishermen just throw their crabs into an open basket, having no fear of the crabs escaping. As soon as one of the crabs tries to climb out to freedom, the others will reach up and pull it back down into the basket.

“That is exactly what my religious culture has done to me for a lifetime,” I ponder with resonance. “It is impossible to climb out of those belief systems without consequences. If I do try, those still in the basket reach up and grab me with projected judgment and fear. I cannot leave that basket without losing the love of those still in the basket.”

Pandora’s Box

Finally, when Keith is again sitting in silence, I glance his way with a look of desperation. As he returns the glance, Keith begins to speak.

“Wow,” Keith smiles at me, “you’re finally ready to go into your process, aren’t you.”

“Keith,” I share in panic, “I feel as if I have opened Pandora’s Box, and that I am a ping pong ball in a moving box car. I am all over the place with relationship panic.”

I quickly fill Keith in with other details of my ongoing inner-conference room meditation.

“I’m trying to figure out if I need to cry or bring in the light,” I express my frustration. “Meanwhile, I am just struggling to maintain a connection to the light.”

Providing very little guidance, Keith quickly calms me down, encouraging me to relax, to breathe deep, and to reconnect to the light. I soon find myself back in my gently flowing river, surrendering and floating downstream with the Higher Energies as my guides.

Next, I imagine a mountain scene, with “sex” and “relationships” being two separate mountains. My river flows between these two mountains, and I imagine myself floating peacefully through the fear. But I am anything but peaceful. The inner voices are intense, as fears chatter away and doubts demand my focus.

“This is not working,” inner voices scream. “I need to cry this out … to feel it more. None of this fluffy ‘light stuff’ is going to help.”

I am bouncing around in that boxcar, struggling, trying to stay connected, wishing I could just sob, but determined to do my release differently today. I want to have less tears and more light.

I sit in this crazy up-and-down meditation, alternating between peace and near-craziness for a very long time.

God-Drama Setup

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

I quickly explain that my “squeamys” are quite intense now, and that the pains in my solar plexus are intuitively telling me that my clenching and lifelong loss-of-inner-power are deeply related to this meditation – to the issue of sexuality and relationships – to the intense fear of loss of love. I then share details of the incessant stories, the doubts, the emotions, and nonstop inner voices.

“You forgot to mention the light,” Keith chimes in.

“Yeah,” I respond, “I am also barely able to maintain a small tiny connection to the light.

Again, Keith does not guide me further, leaving me to flounder in my inner confusion.

I clearly recognize this as another “God drama setup” – that I am being shown the nature of my solo journey. Both as a child, and as a teenager, I struggled profoundly, believing myself to be alone and abandoned – desperately needy of Higher Energy assistance – desperately craving God to hold my hand through every step. But at the same time, I had so much shame, guilt, and hatred at feeling abandoned by God that I simply could not allow any help, no matter what the source.

Bullshit Stories

As I continue pondering, I clearly see that I am “erasing” all my positive experiences again, that I am once more surrendering to doubts and not trusting myself. Quickly I invite Bobby and Sharon to assist me.

“Will you roll up those doubts in a carpet and throw them into an angelic dumpster?” I ask my inner children.

I silently work with this inner metaphor for at least a half hour before suddenly remembering all the other “bullshit” stories that have plagued me since early this morning. I soon ask my inner children to discard each of these inner bullshit stories, one at a time.

“Keith,” I eventually interrupt the silence. “I am working with tons of bullshit stories that are telling me this and that about why I can’t move foreword.”

“That is why you are so annoyed by other peoples’ bullshit stories on the porch,” Keith stabs me with an unexpected comeback.

In a brief conversation, Keith painfully emphasizes concepts I already believe – concepts of how reality is a mirror, and that on the porch, my own inner stories have been shown to me in that mirror.

Almost immediately, another bullshit story rages inside me. It is a story of how Keith is being so rudely insensitive to my profound admission – of how he is stabbing me rather than congratulating my self-awareness.

I soon ask Bobby and Sharon to roll this newest bullshit story up in a metaphorical carpet and to haul it off to the nearest angelic dumpster.

Struggling With Craziness

I continue to meditate in these struggles until the end of the ceremony. When people leave, the man who had made the initial “heart orgasm comments” comes over to give me a long warm hug. I respond with a short hug, quickly relaxing my grasp – but he hangs on much longer than my comfort zone can stand.

I simply do not connect with this man’s energy. I see him as condescending – as coming from a place of believing himself to be “sexually healed” while I am the wounded soul that he intends to help with his wisdom. I can only imagine putting words to the energy I feel coming from him – words speaking “you poor wounded sexual child … I see how I can help you … and I am going to do that by hugging you with my powerful energy … I could fix you if you would only allow it and come to my workshops.”

Finally, when I am alone on the porch, Keith spends a while allowing me to talk in private. I again confess how clearly I recognize my inner bullshit stories – and how I carry and wield a huge eraser.

“But I am struggling with the craziness,” I beg for guidance. “I want to further connect to the light, but I am feeling as if maybe I just need to go home and cry this out. I did not feel safe crying in the group today.”

Keith quickly emphasizes that my “not feeling safe to cry today” is my own creation … and then he gently scolds me for being in my head … for still trying to figure out my process.

I am so confused that I just do not get it. I have “erased” all prior understanding about being in my head and am again lost in needing to control my process from rational mind.

Repressed Expression

“Your half-crying is just dragging your process out,” Keith provides feedback. “Either cry and sob to the core, or do it with the light … but don’t just tiptoe in the tears. That is not productive.”

I silently disagree, but do not feel up to expressing such feelings in words. Throughout the ceremony, I have been allowing myself to go as deep as I dared – restricting the external tears, yes, but still feeling the emotions profoundly. Each time I did so, I connected with what tiny bit of light I could find – allowing myself to meditate in that light until the emotions settled enough that I felt safe trying again to go still deeper.

Yes, I was half-crying, but I was feeling deeply, and was inviting light as best I could in those moments.

I again mention my “not feeling safe to sob publicly” with those present today … and Keith again reminds me that this was my creation.

“This was the story of my teens,” I suddenly speak with new clarity. “During those agonizing years, it was not safe for me to cry … to express any emotion. If I had done so, such expression would only have triggered concern and fixing in my parents.”

It is quite clear now. I have skillfully created my teenage environment on this porch today – doing so to extremes – struggling with sexual and relationship pains but not allowing myself to express such pain.

Crazy-Making Voices

“I have dealt with some pretty crazy-making voices in my head today,” I soon express to Keith. “They were extremely convincing, driving me insane and batty. I was on the edge of losing the battle with them.”

“Brenda,” Keith validates my struggle, “you have been dealing with those voices for your whole life. Today was just triggering them for you, bringing them back to your awareness.”

“This craziness that you are in is what your mother had to put up with when you were young,” Keith shares another unexpected guidance. “Maybe this can help you to develop compassion for your mother and what she had to go through in not being able to help you.”

“If someone had attempted to explain to your mother what you were going through,” Keith adds, “she could not possibly have understood.”

“If someone had tried to tell me the same thing,” I respond with clarity, “I could not have understood either.”

Magic Eraser

Keith spends considerable time reminding me of my “magic eraser” and of how I repeatedly get lost in the doubt and confusion while erasing all memory of the beautiful spiritual experiences I have had. He immediately refers to my magical channeling experience while meditating in a hotel room in Antigua – while pondering experiences later written about in my “Sordid Social Secrets” blog.

“Even when I wrote that blog,” I confess to Keith, “I was already beginning to doubt myself … to discount that profound experience.”

“Those words you channeled were very true,” Keith reassures me. “Don’t doubt them. Print them out, laminate them, and put them on your coffee table for frequent reading to remind yourself of your spiritual connectedness.”

Rattled And Unstable

Thank you for another bizarre and unordinary ceremony today,” I share with Keith. “It is exactly what I needed to take me deeper. But I am so rattled right now … and I am so unstable that I cannot fully appreciate it. I am steeped in the dysfunction of my youth. I am actually quite terrified of where I am at. The inner bullshit voices are overwhelming and convincing.”

“Those voices are desperate to hang on,” Keith confirms, “fighting for their lives. This is NOT the time to give up and allow them to win.”

“I know I need to further surrender to these voices,” I express to Keith, “but I am so afraid of losing myself in those voices.”

“Stop pushing yourself,” Keith reassures me. “Follow the flow. Stay connected to the light, and trust your process. Stop before you get so far that you lose yourself again.”

“Part of me wants to go home right now and just sob,” I share the strength of my feelings, “but maybe I should just watch movies instead.”

“Either option is OK … just trust yourself,” Keith confirms.

“The movies would keep me from going deeper and getting lost,” I ponder out loud. “But maybe I could sob it out and not get lost too.”

“Brenda, quit using your rational mind to control your process,” Keith again gently reprimands me. “You cannot do that. Rational mind is not the tool. It does not work that way.”

I know Keith is right regarding my present insistence on involving rational mind. But the inner craziness is so overwhelming that I continue to fight it.

Craving Physical Touch

“Even though I feel crazy right now,” I share with Keith. “I am in a very good place. Thank you for spending this half hour talking to me alone.”

After a quick thank you hug, I begin to walk away, completely unsure what will happen next.

“Thanks for being in the ceremony today,” Keith calls out as I am part way up the steep hill by his home.

As I continue walking, I can think of nothing more than my desire to simply isolate and sob until the emotions dry up. But after taking a few notes and getting some dinner, the emotion is not quite as strong.

As I sit on the daybed, wishing I could sob, I just feel numb. Soon, my roommate Sufi comes over to ask how I am doing. When I respond, I begin to cry … a lot. She listens with loving concern while lightly rubbing my knee.

“I never had physical contact as a child,” I mumble through increasing tears. “We were not a hugging family. We never had loving emotional exchanges like this. I always craved such gentle physical contact with others, but felt like such a ‘loser outcast’ that I couldn’t go there, even if the opportunity were available.”

“What can I do,” Sufi, gently queries.

“I need to be alone, to go deeper into the pain and sadness … but I cannot do that with anyone here,” I ask for privacy.

Soon, Sufi hugs me good night as she steps out to socialize with friends.

Surrender And Release

Minutes after Sufi leaves me alone, I isolate in my bedroom, sinking into deep wailing moans as I allow repressed emotions to express themselves through intense agony. This emotional release is among the deepest and most painful I have ever experienced.

Finally, after nearly an hour of sobbing and building piles of tissues, the emotions cease as intuitions tell me I have reached a good stopping point.

I have not gotten lost in the emotional release as I had previously feared. Instead, a great deal of energy is now swirling in my head. I begin to meditate into this energy, now focusing on inviting the light to flood my soul – to transmute what I just allowed myself to feel. All emotions have vanished as I gradually drift off to sleep.

Sordid Suicidal Hopelessness

At 2:45 a.m. on Monday morning, I wake up, feeling emotionally numb. After repeated unsuccessful attempts to return to dreamland, I turn on my computer at 3:30 a.m., hoping to take notes about a few of the insane feelings that are raging through me. But the emotions are so raw that I am unable to write.

As I sit playing mindless computer games, I increasingly experience intense suicidal feelings – emotions that I intuitively recognize as belonging to myself at the tender age of twelve – forgotten and never expressed emotions from a young boy lost in the futility of hopeless humiliation. (See Blog titled: Sordid Social Secrets.)

“I have utterly blown it,” the feelings of despair rage through me. “I cannot talk to a living soul … I cannot cry or express any emotion because someone will suspect something … I don’t want to live … I cannot love or be loved … I want to block out all love because if I let my parents too close, they will know what I did … I am an evil and unworthy loser.”

What frightens me is that I suddenly have a feeling of wanting to place a knife to my heart. While the present-day observer in me would never allow such a thing to actually happen, this stab-myself-in-the-heart feeling is intense and very real. This part of me has no remaining hope … does not want to go on … and is completely shut down because of a fear of God’s judgment.

“I will sabotage and reject loving energies before they judge and condemn me,” I ponder the clear understandings that flow. “I loathe myself, I am unworthy, and I need to hide from God.”

The Perfect Loser

Prior to today, I had no memory of feeling these suicidal feelings at age 12. But based on what happened in my life at that time … based on having completely blocked out and repressed all memories shortly after that experience … and based on strong intuition and guidance … there is no doubt that I am now experiencing the utter self-loathing and hopeless emotions of how I felt after destroying all hope of a happy teenage social life.

Beginning at age twelve, my life theme became “The Perfect Loser.” I knew inside that I was an absolute loser, a complete failure, an evil sinner who could never rise above my shame. Yet, on the outside, I genuinely and sincerely did all I could to be the perfect young boy – excelling in school, scouting, athletics, and in blocking love and pushing people away before they could see the fraud and façade that I knew myself to be.

Confident Conscious Surrender

By 5:00 a.m., early on this Monday morning, June 11, 2012, I am so immersed in the agonizing emotional pain that I am nearly lost. I am numb and alone … absolutely knowing that I have messed everything up beyond repair. The emotional reality flowing through me is painful and real.

“I know that everyone hates me,” this part of me screams. “What is the point of going on? I would rather just give up and die in absolute hopeless futility.”

This emotion is so real that it frightens me – even though a tiny part of me clearly recognizes what is happening as a regression to age twelve. The stories and emotions are intensely overwhelming.

Soon, I give up fighting the flow of emotion, no longer trying to suppress and restrict its power. Instead, intuitions remind me that the best way out of an emotional reality is to go deeper into it. Rather than resist, I consciously decide to surrender to the flow.

“I AM the observer and I will NOT get lost in these emotions,” strong intuitions confidently remind me.

For the remainder of the day, I surrender to the hopelessness and futility, allowing the entire day to be consumed by videos and computer games. I have learned that the mindless computer games provide me a powerful tool to access stuck emotions – keeping rational mind occupied while subconscious self-hatred further swells from within.

Finally, at 10:30 p.m., I prepare for bed after a long and mind-numbing day. As I rest on my pillow, I remember Keith’s guidance to reread the channeling section from, “Sordid Social Secrets” – and to do it frequently.

“F@ck it all,” I ponder Keith’s guidance. “I don’t want to read that stupid Higher Energy stuff.”

Wow, these suicidal stories of hopelessness remain intense. Even so, a tiny part of me does remain profoundly connected to my observer status – to the knowing that I am surrendering to this process for an inspired reason.

A Walking Contradiction

Tuesday morning, I am awake at 4:00 a.m., again unable to sleep.

Feeling somewhat more in control, I open a new email quote from Rasha. I love the words – words reassuring me that even though what I am doing appears to be a walking contradiction, that I am indeed working at a very high level.

Following are the words of this “Moment of Oneness #60” quote:

“It is best to suspend judgment about the levels of progress made by others whose dramas may include you. For there are those amongst you who are walking contradictions, working through issues at the highest levels, and manifesting extreme scenarios that might be misinterpreted. Best to reserve judgment for your own process, and to tune inward for clues to the patterns that keep you in a spiral of experiential repetition that may have been transcended on other levels.”

Hopelessly Screwed Up

As I sit alone, isolated and sad – deeply sad – I also know that what I am experiencing is an emotional reality from the past – one that is giving me a profound education.

But as I send a couple of emails to family regarding the birthdays of two dear grandchildren, my sense of “loser-ness” slams me. I suddenly burst into wails, sobs, and screeches. As I do so, I actually feel emotional densities moving around, especially in my head.

Finally, at 8:30 a.m., I surrender to Keith’s guidance and re-read “Sordid Social Secrets” – reliving that painful August day in 1967. Again, I sob and wail frequently as I read. The emotions this time around are unbelievably agonizing, excruciating, and WOW so shockingly real and painful – much more so than when I wrote this blog just four short days ago.

I clearly realize that on that frightening evening in 1967, I could not cry or be sad, because doing so would betray me and my hopeless dilemma. No one could ever know.

“I NEVER processed any of that old emotion in a healthy way,” I ponder with clarity. “That is what is flowing through me now – the feelings of having hopelessly screwed up my life and feelings of futility are roaring out of me.”

Tarot Teasers

Shortly before 9:30 a.m. on this Tuesday morning, I begin to feel slightly lighter, opting to pull a few tarot cards for clarity. When I ask for guidance on my present situation, the three cards I pull tell an intuitive story that goes as follows: “I am standing firmly rooted on the ground with a myriad of emotional choices floating in front of me. I am free to choose my next move, but am clearly reminded that nothing in this physical reality is as it seems, that everything is upside down from the consensus reality perspective.”

When I ask for guidance on whether I should follow a hunch telling me it is time to seek further guidance from Keith, I only giggle when I pull a card that implies strong balance and connection to the subconscious world.

As I ponder these cards and the intuitions that flow so clearly in my soul, I know I am in a very good place with my process – but still, the experience is quite overwhelming.

Before walking out to Keith’s home, I again meditate for a while, gleaning ever deeper insights regarding a life of social paranoia that originated at age twelve, and how that paranoia contributed to my God drama.

When I arrive at Keith’s porch, I feel lighter, but still dazed and in shock – clearly recognizing my situation as a childhood reality that is flowing through me – clearly knowing that I need to just love myself for where I am at. Keith is quite busy this morning, but soon I have a session scheduled for later this evening.

Healing With Glee

As if synchronously guided with perfect timing, I then spend the day watching recently-acquired episodes of the television series “Glee” – beginning with season one. Prior to today I knew nothing about the series, other than that I was drawn to watch it.

As I watch the first six episodes, I am blown away by how perfect the subject matter fits with where I am at. The episodes play out a crazy mish mash of high school social games – with popular kids picking on the loser kids, social trauma and drama, adult and teen interrelationship drama, gay issues, plus entertaining music and dance to bring a little smile to my face.

My own social struggles are beautifully illustrated in so many unique ways, giving a new perspective on my traumatizing teenage memories.

Finally, at shortly before 6:00 p.m., Keith stops by my home to let me know he is ready earlier than expected. While walking together to his home, I fill him in on the agonizing two-day journey through which I have passed – every pertinent detail.

A Resistance Face

For the first forty minutes or so, Keith and I simply meditate silently, not engaging in any conversation. Inner guidance tells me that silent meditation is exactly what I need, and that if Keith needs to share something with me, that he will do so.

I focus on bringing in Higher Energy as I breathe slowly and deeply. My breathing is restricted, and I experience a great deal of energetic pressure in my forehead – as well as an energetic wall at the top of my solar plexus.

I try several things, asking my heart to assist, doing a little soul retrieval, drifting in my river raft, and responding to the occasional intuition.

Finally, I interrupt to ask for feedback and guidance, asking Keith about the various pains that I suspect are most likely manifestations of internal resistance.

“Connect with that resistance energy in your conference room,” Keith then guides me.

I struggle with this meditation for a while as rational mind repeatedly gets in my way.

“My head is trying to label this resistance with my own ‘twelve-year-old’ face,” I explain to Keith, “but other intuitions tell me that my rational mind is making this up – interfering with the process. Can you suggest anything?”

Faceless Orbs

“Drop the metaphors completely,” Keith quickly guides me out of my rational mind. “Instead, see the resistance energy as a faceless orb of energy.”

“Is there one orb, or a group of orbs?” Keith then surprises me with his next question.

“I sense a whole group of orbs gathered across the table,” I soon respond. “It feels like they are about two-feet in diameter, and that there are maybe somewhere between five-to-eight of them.”

“Are they working separately from each other, or as a group?” Keith encourages me to connect further.

“I feel like they are working as a group unit,” I respond a few minutes later. They have been resisting together for so long that I get the feeling they are pretty much working as a team.”

Keith quickly congratulates me, expressing agreement with my perceptions.

“What do they need from you?” Keith then asks a standard question that I have already anticipated – causing me to wonder again if I am in my rational mind.

“Obviously,” I respond quickly, “they need my love … divine and self-love … they need me to see them with gratitude, and to understand that they are loyal and devoted parts of me – aspects of self that I have asked to do a very difficult and thankless job. They have been doing it flawlessly for almost five decades. They need my gratitude and appreciation, rather than resentment and judgment.”

Stepping Aside

“Bring in some of that love,” Keith quickly guides me. “Let’s start with self-love for now.”

As I spend fifteen minutes meditating on this task, I experience a great deal of self-doubt and resistance along with the feeling that rational mind is trying to control the process. Rather than surrender to the doubt, I send love, both to rational mind and to that doubting part of me. I have beaten up on my genuine rational mind far too much. It is not my enemy any more … it is simply not the tool.

I continue to pursue various “surrender metaphors” – each of which feels as if I am forcing things with my mind. Finally, I follow intuitions and ask my Higher Self to work directly with my heart, and with these orbs.

“I want self-love to connect and heal wherever needed,” I express intentions to Higher Self. “I don’t know how to do that, but you and my heart do … so please just take care of the details while I step out of the way.”

Subconscious Symbolism

Soon, I experience a few physical pains in my third-eye region as emotions of fear and anxiousness come and go.

“Brenda,” Keith soon interrupts. “Find where that self-love is … and what happened to it.”

“I know I pushed it out of me when I was young,” I respond. “It is in the safekeeping of my Higher Self.”

“Bring this back in,” Keith encourages me.

I focus for ten to fifteen minutes, again wandering in my head for a while. Finally, I start to focus on gratitude and several other techniques that have at times helped me reconnect with the heart. I repeatedly explore various memories of experiences that have brought deep spiritual connectedness in the past.

“Is this using my head?” I query Keith. “What I am doing feels like I am directly accessing heart memories, but part of me wants to doubt.”

“No Brenda,” Keith reassures me, “you are using subconscious symbolism to guide your subconscious mind into where you want to go.”

Vulnerable To Attack

“Brenda,” Keith again interrupts after a while. “Imagine that self-love as being an orb too. Find it outside of yourself. Where is it?”

“I feel several orbs here and there,” I begin to talk aloud. “Part of me insists that this is just imagination, but strong intuitions tell me the self-love orb is above and slightly to my right, perhaps a foot away.”

“Connect with that orb and bring it inside,” Keith quickly guides me.”

As I do this, I initially experience a lot of love, and a mild tingling sensation moving directly into my heart. Soon, occasional painful resistance energies come and go. Gradually, the tingling sensations move into the high heart, throat, chin, and face. My entire face is now vibrating. Suddenly, I experience tickling all over my face – giving me the sensation that mosquitoes or small flies are landing on my skin and biting me.

“This is an energetic metaphor for my fear of surrendering to these energies,” I soon express intuitive clarity. “I am afraid that if I open myself to be vulnerable, that I will be bitten and stung by the things that ‘bug’ me. In fact, many times when I used to meditate in the mountains, I would have to leave because of the bugs that literally swarmed me.”

Keith strongly agrees with my intuitive guidance.

An Irreparable Reality

“I think you are done for the night,” Keith finally interrupts after another long period of beautiful meditation. “You have reached a very good flow, and know what you are doing.”

“Yeah, I feel really good,” I respond with a giggle. “In the last two days I did not know if I would ever be able to return to this peaceful energy. I was so lost in teenage emotional pain.”

“Congratulations for doing what you had to do,” Keith smiles.

We then discus how I had surrendered to the depths of the emotional nightmare – to the stories, beliefs, and densities – feeling them to the core.

“You allowed yourself to go the bottom of that pain while never losing track of being the observer,” Keith points out.

“I literally felt as if that age-twelve reality was extremely real in the present-day,” I reminisce with shock. “The emotions were overwhelming … as if my present-day situation was irreparable. I found it extremely difficult to remain nonattached. Wow!”

The Big Picture

I could never have possibly imagined where that bizarre Sunday afternoon ceremony – a ceremony triggering sexuality, relationships, and spirituality issues – would lead.

The experience first took me to frightening depths of childhood sexual conditioning, knowing with clarity that if I were to ever abandon such conditioning that I would lose all hope of ever receiving future love from family, and even some friends.

Yes, on that afternoon, just two days ago, I did open a frightening Pandora’s Box – one leaving me in the depths of ping-ponging craziness that took me to the core of forgotten emotions. When I left for home later that evening, feeling crazy, rattled, and unstable – having received Keith’s counsel to re-read a blog titled “Sordid Social Secrets” – I had no idea as to the adventure into which I was about to be unknowingly committed.

It is only in retrospect, as I write more than five weeks later, that I clearly see the profound wisdom of the big picture.

Wealth Of Wisdom

That Pandora’s Box took me deep into the forgotten emotional reality of a young twelve-year-old Bobby – into repressed emotions that I have never before felt to such horrendous depth – into suicidal feelings of futility that I blocked out and repressed in a clinging effort to somehow survive after what I saw as an irreparable sexual scandal.

I am so thrilled that I granted myself permission to dive into the frightening murky depths of that excruciatingly painful swamp – finally allowing myself to experience those agonizing emotions – allowing myself to feel them to the terrifying core.

What blows me away is just how unbelievably real and powerful that forbidden reality became as it flowed through me – how convincing the emotions were at luring me into present-day suicidal futility – and then how easily those same emotions simply vanished as I spent a couple of hours meditating in the light while immersed in Keith’s magical space-holding presence.

On that Tuesday evening in mid June, I was clueless as to the significance of how powerfully that astonishing reality had come and then gone, now transmuted and released forever. Today, in retrospect, I clearly see that those three days in June were among the most profound and powerful healing journeys I have yet experienced – a journey whose power I will always respect – a journey for which I will be forever grateful.

I am finally beginning to understand the wealth of wisdom in Keith’s words – words he has repeatedly taught me – words encouraging me to learn how to allow past emotions and realities to flow through me without attaching or identifying to them.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

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