“I don’t have to wake up from a dream, it just happens to me,” I ponder during an early morning meditation. “While dreaming, there is a window where I believe the dream to be my reality, and then suddenly, when I wake up, I am aware that it was all a dream.”
“I don’t sit there in the dream thinking that I need to wake up,” I continue pondering, “I don’t do anything to wake up … it just happens. And when I do wake up like I did yesterday, feeling deep emotions that originated in dreamtime, then that emotion carries over into physical reality, influencing my functioning in this dimension … even though the emotions were from another dimension.”
“Likewise,” the insights keep flowing, “as I work on waking up in this dimension, beginning to open to an even higher dimension, my lifetime of accumulated emotions continue to heavily influence me, causing me to want to stay angry, victimized, betrayed, hurt, and frustrated.”
It is Tuesday morning, June 19, 2012 as I bask in these unfolding metaphors – metaphors that were triggered by a profound and vivid dream about a strange and bizarre trip to a yoga retreat center – one deeply paralleling my life, and the God drama emotions that continue to influence me.
Lucid Parallels
Suddenly, the idea of a lucid dream inspires me deeply. Before my time at Las Piramides Del Ka in the summer of 2010, I did not even understand the concept of what a lucid dream was. But in the course of that summer, I did manage to briefly experience a couple of them for myself. A Lucid dream is one in which something in the dream causes the dreamer to become aware that they are dreaming – a dream where the dreamer actually wakes to physical-reality consciousness while continuing to remain inside the dream, then being able to manipulate and experience the dream dimension from a higher level of consciousness.
“The object in this lifetime is not just to wake up from the dream via death, after which we ascend,” I ponder with intuitive giggles. “The object in this lifetime is to awaken while still in the dream … to essentially have a lucid dream … still being in the physical body, but being fully awake and connected to Source … to my true identity.”
“And during the few times where I successfully woke up in a nighttime dream,” I further giggle, “it was a fun and playful experience … one where I realized I could do anything I wanted, because the reality where I found myself was merely an illusion, my own personal dream … a dream that I create and direct.”
“Physical reality is just the same,” I ponder with delight. “If I can wake up to truly knowing who I really am, I too can do anything I want … I too can play in this physical dimension … being completely connected to higher consciousness without having to die first. Wow!”
Joyful tears of insight flow down my cheeks during this magical morning meditation.
Empath Empathy
I cannot help but giggle as the remainder of my day begins to parallel my dream from yesterday. Keith, Angela, and I do indeed catch a private boat. We leave the dock near Keith’s home at noon, and arrive at the yoga retreat center at precisely 12:30 p.m.. The main difference between my dream and this reality, however, is that we really do arrive at a spiritual retreat center, Keith is actually with us, and we do indeed have all of the supplies we need.
After a huge round of heartfelt hugs with a few friends, we scurry to make final preparations before beginning the magical ceremony at 1:30 p.m., one with just over twenty of us present. As initial meditations progress, I fill my heart with powerful energy and imagine myself as waking up in a lucid dream. During the first couple of hours, I bask in glowing energy, experiencing no doubts, simply radiating my heart.
Eventually, while Keith works his way around the group, I feel guided to work with a woman who is experiencing deep emotion. As she cries, I encourage her to surrender and to let it flow. Soon, intuitions guide me to function as an empath, asking this woman to release some of her emotions to me – reassuring her that I will not take them inside. The woman begins to cry deeply.
“Most of this is not even your own emotion, is it?” I suddenly feel guided to speak, trusting the intuition that put those words in my mouth.
The woman quickly agrees that she is carrying the pain of others, again increasing the intensity of her release. We talk for nearly an hour as I gradually coach her in various concepts related to being an empath … sharing deep beautiful understandings about the positive ways she can use this gift … helping her to understand that she can let her emotional density go without others needing to take it on.
A Beautiful Day
It is a beautiful conversation. Keith has his back to me the whole time, and I perceive that he has no idea that I am even doing this.
“I do not need him to know,” I ponder with giggles. “I am quite proud of following my intuitions, and have received my own validation through this woman’s responses.”
When Keith eventually arrives to where I am assisting, I move away, giving him space to work. I silently giggle as Keith lovingly guides her even deeper, seeming to validate everything that I had already done with this woman.
Eventually, I back away completely, returning to my own seat and holding space at a group level. My heart is strong, and confidence surges in my veins. I need no validation or feedback. I find it quite interesting as I observe Keith give repeated, beautiful feedback to Angela and others – but neither Keith nor Angela say even a single word to me about my participation. Somehow, I know that this, in and of itself, is a part of my own process.
Inspiration From Oneness
Later Tuesday evening, we enjoy a nice dinner at the retreat center before catching a return boat to San Marcos. As I step into my apartment shortly after 9:00 p.m., I quickly check my email and discover a couple of quotes from Rasha that deeply inspire me. The first is “Wisdom of Oneness #47”:
“Buried in the depths of your illusions, far beneath the distortions of all you were taught to believe, is a level of self that would remain untouched. It is that precious spark of your own Divinity that you’d seek to discover, safe within you, when all else failed – as you knew it would. You were the one who set it up that way.”
Wow, this ties right into my God drama and the lucid dreaming insights I had this morning – fitting in exactly with where I find myself in my process. I AM deeply focused on finding and awakening in the dream, seeking that precious spark of my own Divinity – a Divinity that is the actual consciousness doing the dreaming.
The second quote, “A Moment Of Oneness #64” also inspires me deeply, speaking for itself:
“You are amongst the forerunners of a new paradigm who will set the precedents upon which the ground rules of the new world will be based. You have identified yourself to yourself and have dared to stand alone in the Light of your inner truth, while others, still cloaked in the self-righteousness of consensus thinking, throw stones – as the very fabric of that reality unravels. And you have exercised the wisdom to stand firm in your truth and watch quietly as the cards are shuffled and reshuffled and the lives of others succumb to the shifting tides of change.”
Self-Perpetuating Loop
Early Wednesday morning, after a difficult night of sleep, I drag myself out of bed, take a quick shower, gobble down some chocolate oatmeal with papaya, and rush down to the boat dock. As I ride the 8:00 a.m. boat on my way to Panajachel, a myriad of emotions flow through me … childhood stories … present stories … and God drama stories from throughout life. It seems that I am quite annoyed, projecting more of my God drama onto Keith for how, yesterday, he seemed to gush his praise over Angela and others, but literally ignored me, acting as if I was not even present at the yoga retreat.
I begin to feel the triggered pain of a lifelong pattern that has actually repeated itself several times – a pattern where I am doing really well in work, or in this situation and that situation. Then, suddenly, a younger star, with more magic and a dynamic personality unexpectedly waltzes into the picture and upstages me. From that point on, even while doing amazing work of my own, someone else gets all the glory and attention.
“Why am I creating this pattern in my life, yet again?” I ponder with painful curiosity. “What is it I need to learn?”
The obvious answer is that this is another deep example and manifestation of my God drama – of how, no matter what I do with my own magic, someone else always steps in to take the glory. I then get ignored (by God), and eventually forgotten, blah, blah, blah.
I struggle with these stories, but am determined to allow them to flow. I know that the only way to heal is to dive into the drama, to understand it from the inside out, and to learn to love myself in the middle of it all. I have a deep resolve to heal this self-perpetuating loop, and “know myself” and “love myself” seem to be the key ingredients in doing so.
Sandal Silliness
I giggle as I engage in this quick banking and shopping trip. I also have another silly-but-very-real errand. Just a month ago, I carried three sandals to Panajachel – one-half of three different pairs of sandals that had all suddenly started to fall apart in quick succession. Today, I carry the other half of each pair. Less than a week after repairing those first three sandals, the other three (opposite feet) had rapidly begun to fall apart. But today, I also carry both halves of a fourth pair of sandals – the same sandals I had worn when that exotic-looking tick bit me during a dance ceremony in the middle of the jungles of Ek Balam in the Yucatan (Nov 2009) – the same sandals that I had never worn since, because they rubbed that third-degree burn area.
When ALL of my other sandals had become unusable, those old sandals were my only option. Then, to my shock, as I began to wear them, they too began to literally fall apart.
“I wonder what the message of the Universe is on this crazy metaphor?” I ponder as I hand parts of four pairs of sandals to a street vendor who repairs shoes. “Why would literally all of my casual footwear quickly fall apart at the same time?”
The answer to this metaphor never fully gels, other than wondering if the message is perhaps that it is time to connect more with the Divine feminine energies of Mother Earth … to take off and remove the obstacles that prevent me from more directly connecting.
I giggle when I pay my thirty quetzales (about $4.00 US) for the five repaired sandals. The man spent more than an hour, tediously repairing the stitching. The work has a definite homemade look but is perfectly adequate and functional for my needs.
Need For Safety
After rushing home on the 11:00 a.m. boat, I arrive on Keith’s home at 12:15 p.m. – expecting that the porch will be ready to roll … but Keith is just as late as I am. As we scurry around with last minute preparations, we do not actually begin the ceremony until about 1:15 p.m.
But there really is no official start … no introductions … no meditations. Keith feels guided simply to sit down and allow the porch to take its own course. As I drink my chocolate, I immediately feel an aching nausea in my stomach.
“Why am I creating this chaotic environment?” I ponder with frustration as the gathering is consumed by random surface chatter.
I feel so annoyed, so lost in my God drama, that I almost just stand up and leave. I do not want to go through another crazy ceremony.
“But I know I am somehow creating this,” I ponder. “Surely, if I stay, something good will come as a result. But why would I be doing this to myself?”
As I focus on peacefully seeing the porch as my own personal stage play, with all participants being my leading actors and actresses, my abdomen shakes with wild anxiety.
“This is about my deep personal need to control my sandbox,” I ponder with clarity. “It is about my unmet childhood need for security, peace of mind, structure, and order in my environment – about my need to feel energetically safe. Just like I feel today, I was raised in an environment that was not supportive of emotional release or the magical energies that caused me to feel those emotions.”
Unsettling And Unnerving
Eventually, after more than an hour of random disorder, Keith opens his eyes, speaks up, and announces that he is available for personal work if anyone would like some help.
About this same time, I finally recognize that I am in a powerful process – one that is driving me crazy with anxiety. I continue to observe, remaining present, trying not to judge anything, attempting to visualize myself floating down a river. To my dismay, these metaphors of surrender only serve to create even more anxiety.
I attempt to love myself as being the creator of this stage play – a stage play giving me an opportunity to practice peace amidst chaos … to just be, to lighten up, and to not judge what is.
Over the next while, several people ask questions at a shallow, rational-mind level. Each time, Keith briefly engages them, but does not give them the rational-mind answer that they want.
As I observe this scenario, my God drama is again triggered – causing me to feel afraid to ask questions – causing me to project that I too will receive no help today. I begin to loop back into the same patterns that have lately been so prevalent in my process.
Meanwhile, a great deal of surface level bantering continues to unfold as my anxiety intensifies. I have energetic popcorn in my belly as I experience deep and painful energetic pressures – pressures causing me to feel nausea – pressures that are unnerving and unsettling.
A Lost Loser
Finally, during a pause, I glance at Keith, and he returns my gaze.
“I am struggling with two things,” I begin to share. “The first is being present with increasing panic that is consuming me … and the second is with my God drama fears of even asking for help, believing I will not receive it if I ask.”
Keith seems to validate my fear when he seems to give no help at all. Instead, he simply encourages me to be the adult empath that I am while connecting with my inner child and helping to release the fear of the child.
“I am so deep in these emotions that I feel unable to do that,” I protest to Keith. “I have been trying to do that for the whole ceremony.”
“Brenda,” Keith gently responds, “you do it the same way that you do it with other people in ceremony. How do you do that?”
“I bring energy into my heart, express my intent, and get out of the way … trusting my heart,” I respond quickly. “But I can’t do that with all of this emotion plugging me up.”
Suddenly, another woman interrupts, someone else then interrupts her, and the conversation gets away into another round of distraction. Keith closes his eyes, and I just face back into my corner of being a lost loser.
Permission To Sob
After another half hour of painful futility, making no progress with my emotions, being unable to focus because of distractions, and believing I will receive no attention or help, I finally fold up my blanket, grab my belongings from the storeroom, and prepare to leave. I cannot do this anymore. I am hopelessly stuck and do not want to be here. I want to go home and cry … and I absolutely do not feel inclined to humiliate myself in front of such a stuck and distracted group.
But before actually leaving, I stack my three small cushions in front of me and briefly lean forward onto those cushions – my face being hopelessly buried in the top one.
In a last ditch effort, I try to imagine myself being an empath. Suddenly, I realize that my little inner child just wants to sob. As I imagine that precious child beginning to cry, doing so only on the inside, I suddenly feel as if I am able to bring in a little light to hold space while giving my inner child permission to sob.
“That little child never had permission to cry,” intuitions begin to flood me. “And when I did cry, I got into trouble for doing so. I was coerced into stopping as soon as possible. My crying made others uncomfortable … it was seen as unhealthy and disruptive.”
To The Bottom And Back Again
As I burry my head in the cushion, I begin to feel as if I actually am being an empath for my child. The inner emotion soon overwhelms me and I begin to sob on the outside, doing so silently, with lots of dry heaving and muffled tears. I begin to intentionally clench my hands and arms, doing so to help me further connect to the child’s energetic blocking.
Someone soon comes over and places their hand on the center of my back. The energy feels so warm and pure, so soft and unconditional. The “old me” almost pushes the energy assistance away, but I clearly recognize the pure intent. When I look up to see who is touching me, I see the face of a young woman that I do not know. With her support, I sob for perhaps a half hour. When the young woman eventually returns to her seat, I continue to allow the sobs for another twenty minutes or so.
Finally, after reaching the bottom of the pain, and after focusing on bringing in the light, I feel much lighter – very relaxed.
Guidance To Cry
Eventually, Keith checks in with me. After discussing my journey for a few minutes, Keith begins to share.
“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you were not allowed to feel or express your emotions for much of your youth and childhood. You now need to give yourself permission to feel these emotions to the core.”
“But I feel so humiliated and unsafe crying on the porch anymore, especially in environments like today,” I share my dilemma.
“Brenda, that is your creation,” Keith responds, helping me to realize that I am literally recreating my childhood environment for learning purposes – an environment where sharing emotions was forbidden and very unsafe.
“You need to cry into this emotion without getting lost in it,” Keith continues. “Cry to the bottom and then bring in the light … or don’t cry to the bottom and then wallow in it for a few days.”
As I ponder Keith’s words, I clearly prefer the first choice – that of crying to the bottom and bringing in the light.
Childhood Projections
I perceive that Keith keeps his distance from me for the remainder of the ceremony. It seems that he is preoccupied and somewhat annoyed by me – doing the bare minimum to keep me satisfied and quiet.
But the detached observer in me clearly sees that this is my own childhood paranoia projecting this reality onto Keith … that he is actually (knowingly or unknowingly) playing the role of my parents and others who did exactly that to me as a child. My caretakers were preoccupied, annoyed by my outbursts, and treated my crying as a symptom that must be fixed.
The deeply emotional part of me, however, absolutely knows that such treatment is all I will ever get. I feel so lonely in this painful reality.
Perfectly Orchestrated
Later that evening, after running home for a couple of peanut butter sandwiches, I again find myself on Keith’s porch – this time participating in the bagging of freshly ground chocolate.
As I perform my duties, I merely tolerate the environment around me, while feeling like a total stranger. I am still lost in that childhood reality, feeling dysfunctional and withdrawn. My magic eraser is fast at work, erasing memories of my beautiful light connections while showing me the deep dysfunction that remains inside.
As I methodically double check the weight on every bag of chocolate, deep emotions of hopeless futility swarm me.
Meanwhile, I quietly observe as Angela runs around the porch with her camera. Keith frequently engages her in magical discussions about this and that. I quickly return to feeling like an abandoned loser, feeling totally stupid about how they are both so connected to the energies while I am an energetic loser.
As I ponder before bed, I obviously see how the ceremony today was perfectly orchestrated for me … that I really did create this reality in a very powerful way. I just wish I did not need to feel this profound childhood pain, rejection, and isolation so deeply.
Masking The Pain
After numbly playing computer games for two hours, I finally retire to my bed shortly before 11:00 p.m.. To my chagrin, I immediately sink into fifteen minutes of deep sobbing and gut-wrenching dry heaves. But rather than resist, I dive into the pain with my observer eyes wide open. When the wave of emotion passes, I again feel much lighter.
Soon, I ponder ever deeper – exploring the deep social agony of my youth, and the inability to cry about it, or to express such emotion in any healthy way. Instead, to minimize suspicion, I felt obligated to pretend to be the Eagle Scout, the righteous and religious award winner, the mask-wearing athlete, the honor-role student, the teacher’s pet, and countless other smiling roles of perfection.
“Crap, crap, crap,” I ponder in agony. “I had to put on a fake happy face … never being able to feel any of the deep pain … feeling obligated to push it all down and bury it. That is what is bubbling inside now. I was terrified of crying … terrified of expressing this emotion. It was so bottled up that I was socially dysfunctional and could not do a thing about it.”
Painful Realities
Thursday morning, after less than two hours of actual sleep, I am wide awake at 1:00 a.m.. Finally, after five hours of failure at returning to sleep, I crawl out of bed at 6:00 a.m., exhausted and frustrated.
Emotional pain from the past continues to flow through me … pain telling me I am a teenage loser, a social misfit, and that this loop is one that I am destined to repeat forever.
At 9:00 a.m., I walk out to Keith’s home, hoping to schedule an appointment to discuss this hopeless dilemma. After scheduling me for a 6:00 p.m. session, Keith asks how I am doing.
“I belong in a mental institution,” I express through tears. “One minute I am fine and deeply connected to the light. In the next minute I am lost in social dysfunction and loser-ness.”
“As long as you identify with it, you will keep manifesting situations to bring it up,” Keith shares a profound truth.
“But it is so current and real in my life that I find it impossible not to attach to it as being my present reality,” I express in emotional frustration.
“We’ll see if we can help you move some of that this evening,” Keith reassures me.
An Unwanted Outsider
Throughout the morning, I pass through repeated waves of emotion, each time giving myself permission to cry, to feel the pain to the core, and to then bring in more light. Soon, my roommate Sufi offers loving support.
“I know this is not real,” I express my situation, “but right now I am lost in it … and I keep manifesting it.”
“I feel like an outsider, like an unwanted loser-presence that people around me just tolerate,” I share through renewed sobs.
“Ouch that hurts,” I blurt out through increased tears. “That last sentence hits really close to home. That really is how I felt throughout my teenage years, and most of my life since.”
Finally, shortly after noon, feeling exhausted from lack of sleep, I attempt to nap – but even with only two hours of nighttime sleep, further rest is fleeting and impossible.
Savor The Transformation
Again, I find comfort as another quote shows up in my email. This one deeply inspires me to trust my flow, to simply surrender to my process. It is “Wisdom of Oneness #48”
“Permit yourself the luxury of savoring this experience of transformation. It is not one to be rushed. The end result will manifest in its own time in a very natural way, when you allow the process to direct you and cease trying to direct the process.”
I do not wish to rush my process, and I totally appreciate that this transformation is one to be savored … but the thought of savoring the ongoing pain and anguish causes me to cringe. It hurts too much … but I will try.
I spend the remainder of a very long afternoon, cycling through repeat episodes of the flowing emotion and further episodes of Glee, doing all I can to honor the emotions flowing through me without reenergizing them.
Finally, I stabilize in a very peaceful place, eagerly anticipating my evening session with Keith.
Self-Brutalized
To my delight, as I sit for a long chat with Keith, he greets me with a wonderful, sensitive, and caring approach.
“I could tell when I talked to you this morning that you were in a really good place,” Keith congratulates me for going deeper. “You are doing what you need to do. You need to go into this pain to release it.”
“I am doing layer after layer with baby steps,” I share my intuition. “Each layer is frightening. I go as deep as I can, I sob for a while, and I bring in more light for transmutation and stability.”
“I really do feel like I belong in a mental institution for the massive mood swings,” I express through suddenly flowing tears.
“Brenda,” Keith immediately responds. “You WERE in a mental institution then.”
“Yeah,” I acknowledge. “Today, as I processed deeper, I realized that the emotions were so agonizing and intense that I did not even want to live … but I had to pretend that all was perfect so that no one would even suspect my situation.”
“Brenda, intense agony is a massive understatement,” Keith emphasizes. “You were brutalized.”
“Yeah, and when I got older I took over that role of brutalizing myself,” I add with clarity.
Do What You Need To Do
“But how many layers of these emotions do I have to process?” I beg for hope.
“Brenda,” Keith responds, “in order to be done, you need to reach a point where you do what you need to do … such as going into these tears, layer after layer … without caring what anyone else thinks.”
“I was almost at that point until I recently felt slammed by a friend who insisted that I should not still be going into the tears,” I express my frustration to Keith. “She is such a powerful and magical being that it is hard to allow myself to cry when I feel her judgment insisting that I should not.”
“She just does not know how to help you,” Keith reassures me about my friend. She cares about you a great deal and respects what you are doing.”
A Sense Of Duty
Soon Keith offers to assist me in releasing some of that emotion in an easier way – releasing it to him as the powerful empath that he is.
“Let go of what you can,” Keith holds his hands out in front of me.
“Can you please guide me,” I beg, “perhaps giving me play-by-play feedback on how you perceive my energy.”
“Just don’t think about the feedback,” Keith responds. “Just go to a place of nothingness, no thinking, not needing to know.”
“Now you are letting some emotion flow out of you,” Keith shares about ten minutes later. “You are not allowing more to leave because you believe that it is your duty to carry this stuff.”
“Can we work on releasing that duty?” I query.
“That is what we are doing now,” Keith responds.
Channeled Magic
Finally, in a way I have never before seen him do, Keith begins to channel my guides for me, giving me amazing guidance for the next half hour. How I wish I had a voice recorder with me … I want to remember every beautiful word.
“Do not try to remember,” Keith guides me when I briefly interrupt to share my dilemma, “Just listen and allow.”
Later, as I attempt to record memories, most of those beautiful words have vanished. I totally believe, however, that the essence of those truth-filled messages remains deeply engrained in my soul.
Following is an inadequate paraphrasing of the few words I can remember:
“You set it up to go through layer after layer of exploring your pain, and each layer is getting easier and smoother. You set it up as your teacher, and you are learning. Your lesson is to let go of all judgment about the present moment. Until then, you will continue to loop through this process. At any point in time you have a choice as to how you will proceed, but do not judge any of it …”
The words that Keith channels to me are beautiful, peaceful, and profoundly trust enhancing. Many times as I listen with awe, tears of joy stream down my cheeks. Deep peace resonates in my soul as he soon finishes and resumes talking as Keith.
Profoundly Peaceful Patience
“Brenda,” Keith soon guides me, “you are being prepared, by your own choice, to fully understand all aspects of the ‘hard bus’ so that you will be able to help people move to the ‘easy bus’.”
Then, Keith smiles and speaks from a place of pure unconditional love and profoundly peaceful patience – speaking from deeply genuine energy – unexpectedly telling me something that I desperately need to hear.
“I fully understand what you are going through,” Keith lovingly reassures me. “I have never been bored or frustrated with you, not even once. I, in my own way, did the same humiliating work and I deeply understand and honor you for doing what you are doing.”
“But you are often so frustrated and impatient with me,” I beg for clarity.
“I play my role well when the energies tell me to do so,” Keith confesses with a huge grin. “You are doing beautifully in your process.”
Profound Trust
“I love Angela dearly, and know she profoundly deserves your praise …” I seek further feedback. “But when you were gushing all over her with compliments in the last few days, while at the same time not even acknowledging my presence, do you have any idea how triggered I felt … how deeply that took me into my God drama?”
“Yeah, I know,” Keith responds with a sly smile. “I was fully aware of how it was affecting you.”
As I listen to Keith lovingly admit the depth to which he plays roles for me under the direction of my higher energies, I almost giggle inside about how deeply triggered I have been.
I have always seen how profoundly the events on the porch seem to serve me – how they are all my creation – and now, Keith’s loving confessions are helping me to recognize how awake he has been in his knowing participation with those events.
Such realization gives me a sense of profound trust – more trust than I think I have ever had for my guide and mentor.
A Big Stick
“I often judge myself because I think I should be able to do things differently, more easily, on the fun bus,” I ask Keith for guidance.
“Let go of the shoulds, the musts, and the need-tos,” Keith strongly emphasizes.
Keith then guides me into a meditation, telling me that I am holding a stick that represents self-flogging, self-judgment, guilt, shoulds, must, and other such things. He tells me that beginning in childhood I had to beat myself with this stick in order to be worthy … and to conform.
“I think my mother is the one that originally gave me that stick,” I ponder out loud. “And then, when I got older, I took over using that same stick to flog myself.”
“If she is the one who gave that stick to you,” Keith guides me, “it is time to give that stick back to your mother.”
Holding The Stick
As I further meditate, I clearly recognize that my mother is simply the spokesperson for a whole culture that stands behind her.
“Bring them all in,” Keith guides me to expand the meditation.
I struggle for several minutes, doubting myself, unable to trust my sensitivities, not believing that my mother’s energy is standing in front of me.
“She is already standing right there,” Keith soon reassures me, referring to my mother’s higher essence.
As I imagine myself holding that metaphorical stick out in front of me, I experience a great deal of resistance in doing so.
“It is my sacred duty to hold this stick,” I ponder the powerful resistance, “This stick came from my religion, and was later adapted to my culture. Now, even without that religion and culture, I have modified the stick to control my view of my new beliefs.
Finally, I am able to intuitively feel myself pushing the stick out in front of me. I am grasping it in the middle, with it suspended horizontally.
Vivid Descriptions
“How long is it?” Keith asks me to describe the stick.
“About three feet,” I eventually respond as a clear intuitive picture begins to form. “It is perhaps an inch and a half in diameter, made of a branch, mostly straight, but with a few knots and slight bends, having had all the bark peeled off.”
“It is clear that I used it for flogging myself,” I again emphasize.
“There are little designs carved into it,” I soon describe what I cannot see with eyes but what I clearly sense. “The designs are to make it all pretty. It was my precious God-stick to use in worship … honored and cherished … created to keep me in line with obedience and doctrine.”
Shocking Truth
“That stick is God’s love,” Keith eventually tells me.
“Ouch,” I exclaim. “No wonder I hate God so much. In order to be loved by God, I had to beat myself with all of those judgments, shoulds, musts, etc…, and the stick kept my heart shut down because an open heart caused so many problems.”
“And so now, bringing in more love means having an even bigger stick,” Keith throws in more shocking truth.
“Ouch,” I again exclaim. “No wonder my God drama runs so deep. I am terrified of more love … of an even bigger stick … knowing that I already cannot measure up to the stick that I have. I could never live up to an even bigger stick. I would surely be manipulated, controlled, beaten, and fail – far beyond my capacity. I cannot live up to that image of the light shadow. It is a beautiful visual metaphor, but quite frightening.”
Returning The Stick
“Give the stick to your mother and let it go all the way to the founding fathers,” Keith gives me semi-puzzling advice. “I am guided that you will know what it means when I say that.”
“I think it refers to the founding fathers of my childhood religion … to the men who organized that religion,” I soon respond.
I soon imagine my mother standing in front of me. Behind her are my father and an expanding “V-like” triangle of both church leaders and direct ancestors … a triangle going all the way back to the beginning of my childhood religion.
As I visualize myself passing the stick to my mother, holding it horizontally in front of her, I intuitively feel it pass right through her. The stick continues to flow through all the others, to the very back of that group of ancestors and church leaders. Then It seems to simply vanish.
“I did not see white light or anything like that,” I share with Keith, “but I felt the stick sort of swoosh back through them all before it transmuted into thin air.”
Angelic Programmers
“Under the direction of your Higher Self,” Keith then guides me, “invite the higher programming that you are now ready for, to come in and occupy the space in you that is now free.”
I giggle as I quickly imagine a large team of angelic software engineers. As they stand in front of me, I ask them to connect with my Higher Self and to fill me with divine reprogramming. I then get out of my head, without expecting anything specific, not having a clue what will happen next, choosing to simply observe and feel.
I visualize myself as resting on a beach, basking in the sun, observing the sensations in my body as I gradually relax. Soon I begin to feel little pains in my solar plexus, sacral chakra, high heart region, throat, head, legs, and arms. The little sensations are prickly, like tiny foot-waking-up pains scattered throughout my body.
The more I relax my body, the more anxious I begin to feel. I literally feel as if I am out of breath, as if the squeamy sensations from my clenched forearms have spread into my abdomen, lungs, and heart.
I sit in this beautiful meditation, observing the anxious fears that come and go mixed with the beautiful energetic sensations that tantalize my physical being. I clearly recognize that the anxious fears stem from that fear that more love means a bigger stick. I can only trust that these fears are being released as I allow myself to feel them.
When Keith gently interrupts my bliss to announce that he has an upcoming Skype session in a few minutes, I give him a quick thank-you hug and leave for home. I am very grounded and peaceful, dancing all the way. At least for now, I know that my unfolding process is perfect … that I can simply be present, and trust each present moment with no judgment.
True Colors
The gentle flow of recent days has been magical, beginning with profound metaphors of how the awakening process is quite similar to entering a lucid dream – of waking up to the truth of who I really am while continuing to function inside the dream of this illusory physical reality.
But another theme has been quite dominant – further guiding me into ever-deepening understanding of the God drama. This time the synchronous flow has taken me to another lifelong loop – one of being a magical and devoted worker, but always ending up being overlooked, overshadowed by an even more magical worker who does not carry the same social dysfunctions that cause me to isolate and back away from creative ventures. And, as the metaphor unfolds, it seems that God, as projected onto Keith, is once again the fall-guy onto whom I project blame for ignoring me, abandoning me, betraying me, and leaving me to feel all alone and stupid.
The next recurring theme is that of being unable to ask for help, knowing that if I do ask, the help will not be given anyway. Mingled with this theme is the almost paranoid knowing that others will judge me if I ask, that others will scorn me if I cry, and that any emotional expression whatsoever only causes punishment and abandonment, making me feel as if I am an unwanted outcast whose crybaby presence is merely tolerated. I have magically created repeated ceremonies to show me this childhood “unsafe to cry” environment – to place this issue in front of me as it demands my focus and attention.
But perhaps my deepest joy came from a beautiful private session with Keith. In spite of my ever-increasing projections onto Keith, he has shown his true and genuine colors – gently reminding me that he deeply understands what I am going through, and that he honors me for having the courage to do what I am doing. I love how he repeatedly encourages me to ignore the judgments of others, to do what I need to do, to cry to the core of my endless layers of pain, and to then bring in the light.
It really is time to stop flogging myself with that God-stick – that fake version of God’s love that was passed down through church and ancestors – that self-flogging weapon that was used to instill guilt, shame, shoulds and musts. It was controlling manipulation that caused me to hate and feel betrayed by a love that should have been pure and unconditional.
As I ponder how that stick magically disappeared into transmuted nothingness, I smile inside.
“Maybe … just maybe … that big stick is gone for good.” I giggle with hope.
Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved