Note: This is a continuation from my previous blog titled, “A Conscious Choice Point.”
Still glowing in magical energy after making a conscious choice to embrace the light shadow in a beautiful Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony, I find it quite difficult to relax and fall asleep. New, extremely active, higher vibration energy dances around in my spine, engaging in tantalizing tingles from the root all the way to my crown. The energy is magical, but extremely distracting … almost overwhelming. It continues the nonstop activity right up until the time I finally fall asleep, giving me perhaps five hours of restless sleep.
Early Monday morning, I forgo normal routine for what is recently becoming a frequent activity. Shortly after 7:00 a.m., I am on a Tuk-Tuk, beginning the first short leg of a four-hour journey to Guatemala City. Another friend from Utah is coming for a short visit. This is a woman I met briefly in the summer of 2011 while visiting Salt Lake City. That was a time of stretching inner limitations while conducting my own chocolate ceremonies. I will call this friend by the name of Linda.
It is a whirlwind journey involving eight hours of riding chicken buses and a new first-time venture. Linda feels quite adventurous, and has only a small backpack for luggage, so the two of us make the long walk from the airport to the chicken-bus stop, courageously exploring parts of Guatemala City on foot. After a giggling visit and exploration, we barely catch the final “direct” bus going home, arriving back at my apartment at 8:00 p.m..
After a quick restaurant dinner, I again find myself on my pillow, with that same extremely active energy beginning to do the two-step dance on my spine.
“This is going to be another interesting night,” I ponder as I attempt to drift off to sleep. In retrospect, I actually sleep quite well.
Tiring Tourist Trips
Tuesday, March 26, 2013, would normally be a writing day – but instead of sitting at my computer, I guide Linda on a long walking tour of various areas and restaurants in San Marcos. I find myself constantly giggling with surprise as we frequently bump into friend after friend. I have been so isolated in my life, spending five days each week doing inner work, and the other two days writing, that I do not get out much. I giggle with delight at how many people there are with whom I truly do feel a magical heart connection. The day ends with another such connection with Sufi – my three-month roommate from last summer. She stops by my apartment, and we share a long, beautiful, healing conversation.
Wednesday morning begins with another quick round of tourist activities as I guide Linda for a boat ride to nearby San Juan, and then to San Pedro. Our return boat ride is one of the slowest and bumpiest I have ever experienced, but we make it home safely, with barely enough time to rush over to Keith’s porch.
A Renewed Choice
I am shocked by the size of the large crowd that shows up for the chocolate ceremony, with just around forty people crowding this tiny area. When I briefly stand up to help serve some chocolate, I return to my seat, finding two extra people now squeezed in beside Linda and I – with five of us squished into an area that is only comfortable for three.
“I can do this,” I reassure myself, remembering claustrophobic panic from ceremonies past.
But finally, as an empty seat opens up across the porch, I jump at the opportunity for a place to stretch my legs. Besides, there is a woman crying right next to that seat. I feel guided to go work with her. I coach her for a while, helping her do more release and bring in additional light. She is quite confused and deeply appreciative of my assistance. When my work with her is complete, I help another woman on my right.
Rational mind has no clue what I am doing. I am simply sharing energy, and speaking words that pop into my mind, trusting that I do not need to know much more than that. I somehow know that I am being powerful, and helping a great deal.
Through it all, I continue to focus on that “conscious-choice-with-blinders-on” – on choosing to embrace the light shadow, the joy, the inner power, and the unconditional love in my heart.
Excruciating Empath Agony
When Keith eventually conducts an empath training, I try to hold energetic space, but I am deeply distracted and stop my participation. In fact, my abdomen is twitching wildly, going crazy with inner activity that is freaking me out.
Keith eventually glances my way, and I fill him in on this crazy inner reality.
“I am wondering if this is my inner child throwing a shut-down tantrum,” I share a passing theory, “but I am not convinced that this is what it is. My abdomen feels like a literal popcorn popper inside.”
Keith quickly agrees that it is not an inner tantrum.
“Brenda,” Keith then surprises me, “you participated in the empath training at a new level today.”
Keith does not say much more than that, leaving me guessing, because I did not feel as if I had participated at all. My abdomen had begun twitching wildly at the very beginning, and I had totally disengaged. As I ponder more deeply, I begin to realize that during phase-one of the training – a stage where we invite a Higher Being to send us real emotional density – that I had begun to freak out with old fears that surfaced.
But rather than analyze with my head, I put the thoughts on hold and totally focus on inviting Higher Energy vibrations to fill me, simply surrendering to what is happening.
Cycling In Craziness
After about twenty minutes of such surrender, I am overwhelmed by the ongoing inner intensity, feeling an insistent desire to isolate myself, to run away from the porch and go home. But instead, I go sit in the corner of the porch, hiding out behind Keith’s green camp chair. I meditate as deeply as I can, imagining myself floating on my back in Lake Atitlan, giving up control, in total surrender to Higher Energy and trust.
In my heart, I remain in a good state, but my abdomen is going crazy with what I could only describe as an intense panic attack.
I mostly ignore the inner chaos, but it is extremely uncomfortable at the physical level. Perhaps a half hour later, Keith turns his head and looks at me.
“I am experiencing a near panic attack,” I explain to Keith, begging for some guidance.
“You are minimizing it Brenda,” Keith smiles at me. “It is more like a huge inner panic freak-out.”
“I am just observing the panic, trying not to think about it, simply imagining myself floating in the lake,” I explain my ongoing process. “But just talking about it right now is deeply intensifying the emotions. I am thinking this is just another scammer attack to pull me out of my power, but inner chatter demands that this is density – that I need to feel and release it. I am determined to choose my power and light shadow.”
“I am so confused right now,” I explain to Keith.
Keith does not provide much guidance, leaving me to follow my own inner breadcrumbs. I am quite emotional at this point, cycling in craziness.
A Rebellious Counterattack
To my delight, my friend Nancy suddenly comes over to my isolated corner and loving “swarms me” with beautiful compassionate support. I love it, but at the same time, her attention seems a little overwhelming. She tells me that she is intensely feeling what I am feeling – and to her it feels like a massive child tantrum in my belly – like a mother with fifteen children all refusing to cooperate with her.
“I solved a similar issue by getting really angry at the energies inside me,” Nancy shares a personal experience.
“But I know I need to do this with love,” I contest Nancy’s advice.
“In this case it IS loving to get firm with these parts of you refusing to cooperate,” Nancy counters.
I do not necessarily agree with this approach, but I do know that right now I am feeling deep anger toward these parts of me who are in distracting rebellion. I still feel that these parts are scamming me – parts demanding that I remain small and insignificant – and I am tired of listening to their rebellion and self-sabotage.
“This part of you is demanding that you buy into its lies,” Keith momentarily interrupts my conversation with Nancy.
Keith’s words seem to validate that a part of me is throwing a huge rebellious counterattack tantrum. I feel deep anger toward this part of me, but continue to trust that, even though I need to feel and release this emotion, that the inner solution still involves self-love.
From Anger To Peace
Even so, I opt to give myself permission to feel and express the anger, desperately wanting those emotions to surface and flow out of me. Nancy supports me through about fifteen minutes of anger release. The emotions are so intense that I literally want to punch pillows and scream, but I do not go there. Instead, I feel the anger emotionally, and give myself permission to sob and dry heave.
The process is intense. When it is over, I feel lighter and calmer, but even more confused … and very dizzy. I know I did something powerful, but am confused as to whether or not I did the right thing – or whether I just used the wrong emotional response by attacking a scared puppy using a big stick.
But I literally feel that this inner rebellion has its arms wrapped tightly around my neck, choking my life force and self-expression. I have felt totally helpless and hopeless to move forward in embracing the light shadow, and in the process of choosing my power and magic, this expression of repressed anger has helped to release a great deal of that hopeless apathy.
I feel much lighter as Nancy and I quietly chat for a while. I love her so much. Her guidance is so supportive, but also confusing, because a few of her words of advice directly conflict with things Keith has told me.
Nancy reminds me that this confusion is to give me the opportunity to trust my own inner knowing, to embrace my own power and personal connection to Source.
Crazy Making Confusing
At the end of the ceremony, I explain to Keith that I believe that what I experienced today was indeed an inner tantrum orchestrated by a rebellious shut down child. Keith initially implies “no,” but then checks his guidance.
“Part of this is to get you out of analyzing with your head,” Keith then tells me. “Confusion is good at this point.”
“But I WAS staying out of my head,” I protest to Keith. “I was NOT analyzing, I was simply floating in a lake, surrendering, connecting with Higher Energy, and trusting that I did not need to do anything mentally. Then all of the help from Nancy showed up and I followed the flow. I wasn’t trying to figure it out at the time.”
I know these words are true, but I do have to admit that right now, I AM trying to figure it out – trying to understand all the confusion.
“This stage of the process can be crazy-making and confusing,” Keith smiles at me, “and this is part of the process.”
Higher-Energy Dizziness
I do indeed feel quite crazy right now. Soon, a beautiful young woman from Switzerland grabs me and hugs me nonstop for fifteen minutes. I begin to cry and sob as she touches various parts of my back and shoulders where emotional pain is released … triggering deep emotions of wishing my “mommy” had been able to hold me like this. I so needed such physical support, but never had it. In fact, I never would have allowed it even if it were available.
Then Nancy gives me a huge genuine hug, followed by one from Steven, and one more from another beautiful young woman. Before walking home, I give Keith a quick brief hug. I do not speak. I trust that all is perfect, and that I need no verbal guidance.
Right now, the panic is gone, and I feel overwhelmed by Higher-Energy dizziness. I want to be alone – to go home, to isolate and hide in a hole. But with my friend Linda visiting, I cannot do this. I need to be social.
Speaking of Linda, she had left just over halfway through the ceremony. As I observed from afar, I could see that she was not resonating with events, with what was happening, or even with Keith. Intuitions whisper that her leaving the ceremony will prove to be a huge growth opportunity for me.
I walk home at a half-snail’s pace, stopping frequently to stand and stare at clouds or distant volcanoes. I am overwhelmed by the shifting inner reality, and am actually quite thrilled when I arrive at home to find a note from Linda indicating that she is out for a walk. I quickly begin typing up notes for the day, eager to record the crazy emotional events.
I absolutely know that what I went through today was another layer of God / separation drama rebellion – a lash-back from parts of me that do not want to embrace the power – an absolute panic attack. It does not matter if it was an inner-child tantrum, emotional density, ego, or just plain inner scamming trying to stop me. In the end, it is all the same. I raised my vibrations, released a great deal of repressed anger, and I feel much better.
Pillow Pondering
I am both dizzy and delighted as I converse with Linda over dinner. We both agree that the ceremony served a powerful purpose for each of us. For her it was an awareness that she does not resonate with Keith, and that her path is guiding her elsewhere. For me, her walking away was a profound lesson in non-attachment – in not being attached to my friends needing to resonate with my path … not at all.
Deep inside, however, a rebellious energy is brewing. Linda bluntly shares many of the reasons behind her non-resonance with my teacher at the ceremony today. In honesty, I have to admit that all the things she says are things that have also triggered me many times in the past. But they are things that I have chosen to ignore because they are part of my process … part of my own inner healing … part of my deep understanding that if something triggers me that, “it is not about the other person, it is not about what it is about, and that nothing changes until I do.”
But when an outside person expresses the same doubts and triggers, a buried and rebellious part of me begins to chatter … questioning whether I am simply fooling myself … insisting that I need to be a people pleaser and go along with the beliefs and criticisms of a friend.
“Wow,” I ponder on my pillow. “I have been doing this my whole life. When a friend questions something I am doing, I have a strong tendency to doubt myself, to question and potentially invalidate my own inner knowing. In fact, this has been the source energy behind much of the betrayal in my life.”
New Age Woo-Woo
Thursday, March 28, 2013, begins in crazy-making fashion. I wish I could run away. I am not relating to Linda’s energy or viewpoints, or to what I now perceive as rational-mind stories. Rather than disconnect, however, I eventually remind myself of my ability to listen with compassion and understanding. As I act on the latter, I nudge my end of the conversation back into a heart-connecting one – one of each person allowing the other to have a different truth, but one filled with mutual love and respect.
I am really happy with the results of this heart-listening, yet recognize that deep inside of me is rampant impatience and frustration with rational mind stories. I know that this is my own struggling inner reality being projected outward, but ego wants to point the finger of blame onto an external figure.
After engaging in some fun hiking and exploring with my friend, I silently sink deeper and deeper into unexpressed fear relating to something Keith told me on Sunday. He pointed out that the more I embrace my light shadow, the more I will give up my stories – causing me to bump into a fear that I will be unable to relate to other people and maintain friendships. A great deal of fear is surfacing inside me surrounding this issue – especially seeing how difficult it is for me right now to discuss my inner truths and feelings with Linda. From subtle conversational twists, it is obvious to me that she thinks many of my beliefs are a bunch of “woo-woo new age crap.”
“My path is leading me to a place where I will relate to no one,” I ponder the surfacing fear. “I will end up a total dysfunctional hermit with no remaining ability to relate to people at the rational-mind level, or the emotional level, or even the woo-woo new-age level.”
Permission To Feel
When I arrive at Keith’s porch, a friend who is also there sharply growls at me, telling me she is in process, advising me to give her space. I back off and move away, not fully preparing the porch for ceremony until the last minute – leaving me in the awkward feeling of KNOWING that I am never going to fit in. Even friends I love and cherish seem to be rejecting me. I know this is not true, that this beautiful friend is simply in her own process, but given where I am at in my process, the timing is a perfect setup.
As the ceremony begins, I am drowning in deep repressed anger, fear, and rebellion toward God and Higher Energies – in a knowing that I am doing a “no-no” by embracing more light – that I will be alone and abandoned for good, ending up an utter failure, not resonating with, or being accepted by anyone ever again. Right now, I feel these emotions to the core.
This emotion causes deep pain in my solar plexus. At first, I ponder the idea that just maybe this emotion is something I am reading from someone else – perhaps from my friend. But eventually, after a long silent meditation, I come to the conclusion that what I am feeling is my own. I recognize that I am again at that God-drama choice point of needing to choose power, joy, and light. But the pain and emotion are so strong that I believe I cannot make that choice. I cannot go there; I refuse to go there. A part of me insists that I am a victim of the light, and that by embracing the light I am admitting failure.
Finally, I give myself permission to feel the anger. I breathe in and out with emphasis, breathing in deeply into the solar plexus, and breathing out with a focus on the throat – on my self-expression chakra. As I do so, I feel the power increase in my heart and high-heart regions. It is a magical sense of power that is returning – but as I feel it, I also struggle not to break down into sobs.
Searching for a way to release this emotion in an easier way, I imagine myself throwing anger at a group of angels. This inner visual triggers even more intense emotional release, involving dry heaving and streaming tears. For a while, I pull a scarf over my head and face, attempting to hide the process from others, trying to stifle the audible-side of things. Nevertheless, I am in deep emotional release.
Desperate For Release
Eventually, the emotion is so strong that I stand up and walk behind Keith’s house, seeking isolation where I can physically trigger a little of the anger by punching a pillow or two.
I manage to go through a few bursts of deep release, and even bring in a little light, but the anger and rebellion continue to dominate my mood. The only difference now is that the overwhelming emotion behind the moods has slightly reduced.
I know I need to bring in more light, but I refuse even to try. This rebellious emotion is dominant, overwhelming, real, and all consuming. I am too afraid to let it go – too afraid to try. I am confused, insane, crazy, and loopy – clearly knowing that I am deep in a God-drama loop – in one of the games that I play with deity to force my separation. Somewhere along the line, I took the bait, decided to isolate, dig a hole, and pull the lid over the top. I feel as if I could sob for weeks.
At one level, I know exactly what I am doing, but feel helpless to stop myself, feeling victimized by my own tantrum. I wish Keith could help me somehow. All day today, I have watched him do compassionate, patient work with others – with many people all over the porch – but he seems to be intentionally ignoring me.
Begging For Help
Finally, still lost in these crazy emotions, still unable to find the will power to bring in the light, still looping in insanity and confusion, I look up at Keith.
“Help,” I beg.
I then briefly summarize my struggle, explaining where I am at, my God drama, the confusion, the spinning in hopelessness, and my inability to bring in the light.
Keith responds with a matter-of-fact reply telling me what is going on and where I am at, but I do hear his words. He says something about me not needing his help, and instead needing to love myself, love where I am at, bringing in light, etc…
I feel as if a parent is scolding me, even though I know that Keith is speaking with unconditional love, without emotion, and without enabling – but to me, such a style of delivery feels like “not caring.”
I quickly regress to a very frequent emotion of childhood and youth – that of me looping in a tantrum, begging my mother for help, absolutely knowing I cannot proceed with what is expected of me without more help.
A Barrage Of Advice
Before I can even digest the emotions of what is happening, a friend jumps into the fray with rational-mind advice and discussion. I hate it when I ask Keith for help and suddenly other people want to jump in to tell me what is wrong with me, doing so at a surface level of words.
I am so lost in my inner reality that to me, their words are empty. In my present state, I do not believe they understand where I am at, and strongly feel that they see something wrong with me and are attempting to fix me with condescending advice.
I resist my first friend’s advice, and then someone else jumps in with more fixing words. Then another, and another, and another. It is a virtual onslaught of fixing advice about my craziness – most of it coming from people that I know have no clue as to where I am at in my process. I believe they are well intentioned, but I hear everything they say as fixing, simply pointing out the obvious, telling me I am stuck in my rational mind and that I just need to let that go.
“Whoa,” I put my hands up and ask everyone to, “PLEASE STOP.”
A Bizarre Reality Creation
“I know you mean well,” I tell one friend. “I feel your loving compassion. But I did not ask Keith to help so that everyone could jump in and start a rational mind conversation. I was not in rational mind before I asked for help. I was just desperately attempting to feel and allow – but stuck and unable to proceed.”
“I used words in an attempt to describe where I am at,” I continue my protest, “but I do not want words to analyze or tell me what to do. I want KEITH to help me get beneath the words … to guide me somewhere at the energy level.”
Ignoring my plea, another new person on the porch repeatedly tries to speak up with advice.
“Please Stop!” I tell him.
Several times, he attempts to force his opinions onto me, and several times, I again beg him to PLEASE stop.
I feel attacked by rational mind fixing. I clearly recognize the unusual barrage of uninvited commentary. The situation is so unusual and blatantly obvious, that I know I must be creating this, that a higher part of me is manifesting this bizarre stage play to make a point. I know that this happened frequently last year, but has rarely occurred this year. Only because of this awareness do I make a conscious choice to listen and pay attention.
Compassionate Demands
“Brenda,” Keith eventually speaks again, “you ARE in your rational mind. I agree with what others have said.”
“I was NOT in my rational mind before,” I attempt to defend my previous statements. “I was just trying to explain my crazy stuckness, hoping for some compassionate assistance with the intense insanity feelings of being lost.”
Keith and I lovingly argue for a while. I insist that I deserve compassionate help from him, no matter how stuck I might be, no matter how many times I need the help again.
“I deserve patient compassion,” I emphasize again. “I would give it to anyone else, and I believe that a loving Higher Being would be equally compassionate, not refusing to help because he/she already said everything there is to say over a year ago, and there is now nothing more to say.”
“I am here again, right back in that same stuck place,” I beg, “and I deserve that compassionate help today … right now.”
Ongoing Pleading
“I have grown tremendously in the last year,” I speak up in further defense.
“Of course you have,” Keith validates with a smile. “I am not making you wrong for any of that. I am just pointing out that you are at the same place, still not allowing light to transmute the density, still in the God-drama loop.”
“But I am at a much more aware and higher level of doing this work,” I protest.
“Of course you are,” Keith responds with love. “But you are still at the same place you were a year ago.”
“I told you the answer before, but you didn’t listen,” Keith then changes the conversation.
“I don’t remember,” I respond.
“I know you don’t,” Keith answers.
“Would you please tell me again?” I beg Keith for assistance.
“YOU already explained it to me,” Keith turns my words around again. “You told me that you felt your density to the core, but then did not allow the light to come in to transmute it. You need to find compassion for yourself for being right where you are … for having too much fear to allow the light. This is not something you can figure out or do with the mind. You need to love yourself for where you are in your stuckness.”
Tantrums Replayed
“When I am lost in such a dark place, I deserve assistance to help me out,” I again insist.
“That would just be temporary fixing, not solving anything,” Keith matter-of-factly replies.
“It would help,” I fight back. “It has always helped. I believe this with all my heart. It has helped me every time, and if I need such help a thousand more times, I DESERVE it … I love myself enough to know that I deserve it.”
I am feeling very pissed at Keith as he moves on to work with others.
I meditate alone for a while, desperately attempting to bring in self-love, self-compassion, and light, etc. I flash back to the deep pain of childhood tantrums with my mother – tantrums in which I demanded and desperately knew that I needed help from my mother.
I clearly see that I am playing out one of those tantrums right now, doing so with Keith instead of my mother. As a child, I knew that I deserved help. My mother had destroyed all of my self-confidence for doing anything creative or out of the box. She did this through a well-intentioned conditioning process – one that was culturally-and-religiously accepted.
No Slack Cut
Perhaps thirty minutes later, when I am still deep in frustration but beginning to feel slightly better, Keith unexpectedly interrupts the silence.
“Brenda,” Keith surprises me,” where is the joy?”
“I am deep in childhood regression to demanding that I deserved help … having to fight for the help I needed and deserved,” I respond in my own way, feeling annoyed by Keith’s original question.
Again, I engage Keith in another discussion where I insist that I need compassion and patience, expressing that I am smart, but I could never do this alone.
“The Higher Beings that worked with me were equally tough on me,” Keith responds.
Keith then explains how he went for three years bearing the brunt of ridicule from others for being so stuck and unable to move on, and how the Higher Beings channeling through his group did not cut him any slack, none at all.
I have never heard Keith explain this with such detail, and it annoys me. I believe that Higher Beings would be compassionate, patient, and loving in all ways. I believe this with all of my heart.
The Games I Play
Again, I begin to question my teacher. Yet I know that right now I am in a victim/ needy energy, and that this energy state is attracting / manifesting exactly the response I need from Keith.
“No one can heal a victim,” I ponder. “I have to stop being a victim. I am back in that state of demanding an apology from God, demanding assistance from Higher Energies and teachers, when the very love I seek is all around me. I am just refusing to let go of my victim ammunition and my drama … of my anger and rebellion … until that help is delivered on my terms.”
I go back into silence, feeling like a loser, feeling as if everyone hates me … judges me … and thinks I am stupid.
In this state of isolation, I recognize that the compassionate, unconditionally loving assistance is all around me, but that neither Keith nor Higher Beings can give it to me when I am playing out this childhood tantrum with Keith. I understand that in most circumstances, Higher Beings will not lower their vibrations to my level. The love and guidance is always unconditionally available, but I am the one that must raise my vibrations to the level of that assistance.
The Tantrum Continues
When the ceremony is over, I wait for an opportunity to give Keith a quick hug. As I do so, he speaks to me with more compassion, reminding me of how as a child, I had demanded help from my mother – help to do easy things that I could have easily done for myself.
“Not when my creativity, self-confidence, and intuition were slammed out of me,” I again protest. “In that shut-down state it was NOT easy. I needed help because my confidence and trust had been destroyed.”
“I still believe I deserve more help now,” I calmly share with Keith. “I still don’t feel energies in a way that I fully trust. I really need someone to patiently guide me into bringing in energies, telling me what they can see and feel, and helping me to build confidence in what I might just barely feel. This has been deeply helpful when Steven and Nancy have done this with me.”
“Then you DO know what it feels like, and you CAN do it yourself,” Another friend interrupts, twisting my words back at me, seemingly rubbing salt in my wounds.
Pouting My Creation
“I could really use more confidence-building assistance to help open and trust my energy sensitivity,” I respond to Keith.
“I gave you lots of help last year and you didn’t let it in,” Keith uses logic that baffles me.
“But I am letting some in now,” I fight back. “I need the help now that I am beginning to be able to feel it.”
“That is just enabling,” Keith insists.
“Keith,” I plead. “I have had to beg for help my whole life, struggling to function. Is there an energy I am putting off that refuses to give me such help?”
Keith does not answer that question, and does not bend in his insistence that this would be enabling … that I need to do this myself now. In my present, tantrum state, I see Keith as a dense jerk.
“No Higher Being would ever treat me this way,” I ponder and pout.
Yet I know that I am creating this reality, splashing my trauma-drama in my face, causing me to play out this God drama in an extremely obvious manner with Keith. I am not angry at Keith. I am actually fine with everything, completely aware that I am manifesting this insane reality for a reason.
Disparaging Words
But nonetheless, I feel humiliated and stupid. I know I need time away from the porch to regroup and find self-love and compassion – the same beautiful energies I have found a great deal of lately.
“This is the first time in several months that I have looped in my drama like this,” I remind Keith, hoping for a little compassion.
“I am not making you wrong,” Keith responds. “But your job right now is to find self-love and compassion for where you are at, in the stuckness and fear.”
“I am stable, feeling considerable strengthening in my heart and high-heart,” I mention to Keith as I prepare to leave. “I know I am fine. I will be OK … but I still believe I deserve more compassionate help.”
“In fact, I am not even sure I belong here on the porch anymore,” the disparaging words unexpectedly flow off my tongue.
“Wow!” Keith smiles at me. “You are close to something big.”
I know Keith is right, but in my tantrum state, I perceive his celebratory tone as insulting, as not caring about my feelings, and as not validating my frustration. This annoys the hell out of me.
Isolating From Love
I walk home slowly, avoiding people, stepping off the road to a small view area when a friend approaches, hoping she walks on by.
“Thanks for helping me grow today,” the friend speaks as she approaches me.
“Huh?” I respond. “I helped you? I feel like the biggest loser … like everyone on the porch hates me now.”
“No,” my friend answers. “We all love you. You helped us in beautiful ways.”
“When I open my mouth and share feedback it is coming from Source,” my friend explains her motivation for participating in what I had perceived as a barrage of unsolicited comments from others.
“But I perceive such comments as a fixing energy coming from people who do not understand the history or depths of my process.” I explain. “I believe that you understand energetically, but you have no idea as to the terror I feel behind something as simple as just allowing myself to feel love … after fifty-eight years of sabotaging love.”
To my shock, this friend hugs me for ten long minutes, telling me to feel this love from her. I cry and sob, and she does not let go. She tells me to look into her eyes, adding that when I do this I am seeing love. I feel HER love right now, but I still do not feel divine love in a deeper way.
As I continue to walk home slowly, stunned, attempting to avoid, I am repeatedly approached by friends and loving words. I really want to isolate. I am thankful for the expressions of love and support, but I want to be alone.
I am grateful when Linda is compassionate with my need to be alone. She actually suggests that she wants to go watch a movie at a local Hostel, and that she will be fine not spending time together this evening.
I feel hammered and exhausted. Yes, I have a much better understanding of my God-drama loop – of the insane tantrum-filled games I play out with deity – but I still want to dig a hole and cry.
Confusing Stories, Unable To Relate
Friday morning, I wake up at 4:00 a.m., after having already had a very difficult and short-lived sleep. For the remainder of the morning, I do not return to sleep, feeling overwhelming energy pooling in my head. The emotions are somewhat in check, but distraction and chatter consume my mind.
At around 8:00 a.m., Linda and I go out for breakfast. As we sit waiting for our food, I attempt to talk about my emotions, trying to explain the crazy state I am in. Ouch … I am taken back when Linda also accuses me of being in my head with stories. This makes me really think.
“I AM telling stories,” I ponder silently with honestly, “but the only thing I am trying to do is to put words into describing the craziness that I am experiencing inside. I am not blaming anyone. I am only trying to describe what I am feeling. We all have to use words to explain what is going on inside.”
But as I get more honest with myself, I realize that I continue to hang onto many childhood stories – stories around which I anchor my reasons for still being stuck and unable to move forward.
I want to gag when Linda recommends a rational-mind approach to solving my emotional struggle, suggesting the techniques of a teacher whose methods I once used to love. At this point, I begin to realize that we cannot have this conversation. Soon, as I attempt to talk about other things, she slams several beliefs that are dear to my heart. I attempt to explain that the truth is not absolute, that she can have her truth and I can have mine, but she strongly resists this statement as well.
One thing is nice however. Linda compassionately understands my inability to be “socially human” right now – my desire to isolate and need to be alone. She shares her own stories that clearly illustrate that she understands my desire to dig a hole and pull the lid over.
Focusing On Self-Love
After setting up the porch for a Friday afternoon chocolate ceremony, I sit quietly meditating, attempting not to expose the deep reservoir of bubbling emotion. I am pleasantly shocked when one friend who had barked at me yesterday is now extremely sweet, offering a genuine hug.
During the “Glow Meditation,” I begin to get quite emotional. At the conclusion of the meditation, Keith announces he is now open to work with individuals.
“How about if we start with you Brenda?” Keith surprises me. “How are you doing today?”
I look up at Keith with huge tears in my eyes, chocking back sobs as I try to speak.
“I am really trying,” I begin to blubber. “I mean, there is no “try” … I am focusing on bringing in self-love. I am doing the best I know how, surrendering and trusting, attempting not to think about anything, just feeling and observing.”
My whole attempt to share is filled with choked-back emotion. My heart is pure. I really understand that my goal is to bring in self-love for where I am right now. I know that no one else can give me what I need. I am humble and emotionally raw, dropping all pride.
Patient Guidance
“We love you Brenda,” Keith glows at me.
A few other people immediately join in, nodding their heads and glowing at me as I attempt to make eye contact with them, and with Keith. I am struggling not to sob.
I am shocked by this unexpected show of pure compassion. I feel Keith’s words, and those of others, as being genuine and deep – profoundly acknowledging my suffering with patience, and understanding.
Keith and I talk for a minute. I feel deeply validated. The energy today is totally different. I know this is my manifestation, but I feel as if I must now be on a different planet based on my experiences of yesterday. Prior to the ceremony I had set an inner intention to be lovingly open to help in any form, focusing only on self-love, not expecting anything external, just being in a state of inner trust and expectancy.
“I’m feeling a lot of fear right now,” I mention to Keith.
Keith acknowledges that the fear is real.
“There is a nice flow of fear now leaving you effortlessly,” Keith unexpectedly guides me a minute later.
“I don’t feel it yet,” I respond through tears.
Then I carefully choose a positive way to share my words – words that do not create the opposite of what I say.
“I am still working on opening sensitivities, but am deeply grateful for your feedback, acknowledgment, and validation,” I respond with deep gratitude.
For a while, Keith patiently guides me through this loving energy process, helping me trust what I feel as I continue to experience the fear surfacing and then leaving.
Background Story Energies
As Keith moves on to work with others, I feel profound love from both Keith and the whole group. I return to focusing on self-love while cycling in and out of tears as I listen to the processes of others. I remain deeply emotional, but I am experiencing genuine heart-based love for myself.
I soon imagine myself standing in front of a mirror, repeatedly saying things like, “I love you … I am so proud of your amazing courage … of the journey you are on … of your genuine and profoundly loving heart … of your determination to continue healing … of your service to others … of your gratitude … of your compassion and desire to assist others in healing … of your commitment to heal yourself first.”
Finally, Steven unexpectedly tickles my feet and turns to stare in my eyes. It takes me a minute to even allow myself to look up or make eye contact, but I am soon staring back at him.
At first, I just stare numbly, remaining deeply lodged in my story, still struggling to find any relief from the incessant anger, hurt, sadness, and lack-of-joy that continue to be non-stop background energies in my life. I know these energies are based on childhood stories, but no matter what, the energies remain. I have been unsuccessful in letting these energies go … so rather than beat myself up, I love myself for this fact, filling myself with self-love and with an intention to let them go.
Energetic Recognition
A few minutes later Steven leans forward.
“Let go of the story,” he whispers.
I resist at first, now knowing “how” to let go of a story, but I am determined to stay out of my head. I continue to stare into Steven’s eyes, focusing on relaxing completely while allowing energy to flow without thought or expectation … not knowing, not assuming, just observing.
Gradually, I begin to feel a light tickle of energy in the top of my head, moving downward through my crown. Intuitively, I somehow know that this energy will help release pain and bring in joy. The process is extremely slow and gentle, not pushing against the inner resistance in me, allowing me to move at my own pace, gradually letting go.
Increasingly the energy comes in, very gently and mildly. In fact, it is so gentle and mild, that if I were not focused and fully present in this process, I would likely ignore the energy completely, probably not even feeling it. Over time, I begin to recognize this energy as doing something quite similar to what happened when overwhelming suicidal feelings had been transmuted in my body, last July 1, 2012.
Still, the sadness holds on, refusing to be joyful, even though Steven occasionally tickles me a couple of times by grabbing Bobby bear and playfully pushing him into my belly. Each time, I smile and briefly laugh, but then return to seriousness. I cannot seem to maintain a giggle or smile.
Profound Parallels
Soon, Steven gets up and moves, sitting directly in front of me. I am not keeping track, but it feels as if we maintain locked eyes for most of the next hour.
Gradually, I feel the energy make gentle headway in transmuting the story. Ever so slowly, the sadness dissolves and begins to be replaced by lightness, and then by glimmers of joy. Little by little, the glimmers begin to form a glow in my eyes. Then the corners of my lips begin to curl slightly upward. Finally, I feel mostly joyful inside, but some remaining heaviness lingers, showing me the contrast. But to my delight, the joy mostly dominates.
“Wow,” I ponder with magical delight. “This is exactly how those suicidal thoughts dissolved in Keith’s kitchen last summer.”
This is the most profound experience of transmutation that I have had in nine months – deeply reinforcing in my mind exactly what is possible when allowing Higher Energies to work with me.
A Meaningless Story
Steven and I whisper for a while, discussing what has happened, and continues to happen inside of me.
I am amazed as I realize that “the story” has left. I no longer feel identified by anything from my past. At least for now, the story of my life is silly and meaningless. I clearly experience myself as a divine being who has merely been playing a role on a stage, or in a holodeck. It is literally as if I was a method actress – one who got so lost in the real-life role that I forgot who I really am.
I realize that little by little I have been releasing the emotions behind the role, behind the stories of that role, and have been returning to the realization that I am the actress – that I am a divine being who was lost in the role, but I am NOT the role itself. In this moment, this fact has never been more clear. This is not a mental understanding. This is a profound experience – yet one that seems totally ordinary.
While whispering to Steven, I mention an “A Course In Miracles” quote that I used to understand at a mental level, but now, for the first time in my life, I understand it in my heart.
“I am not a body, I am free, for I am still as God created me,” I share the words with Steven. These are words that are heavily repeated in the latter portions of the ACIM workbook lessons. I finally get it at a whole new level. I am here occupying this body, but this body is NOT who I am. I am not “thinking” this … I am “knowing” this.
Whatever just happened with the magical energies, I am somehow more awake right now, being totally aware of the absolute absurdity of identifying with the story and the emotions of the role … knowing for the first time ever that the light can transmute identification with the story … or perhaps the story itself. I do now know which it is. I do not need to know. I only know that, right now, in this instant, the story is not active. In fact, it seems quite meaningless. I find it hard to believe that the story will ever return.
Worth The Wait
Steven soon follows guidance to disconnect, and I close my eyes, sitting in newfound joy. Gradually, over time, more of a smile and giggle form on my face. What little heaviness had remained earlier now seems to be totally gone.
When Keith finishes working with someone across the porch, he turns to face me.
“How are you doing now?” Keith glows with a knowing grin.
“I am doing horribly,” I respond with a teasing, joyful giggle. “Wow, what an amazing shift. It reminds me of what happened last summer, taking me from one hopeless suicidal extreme to the other.”
As I glance around the porch right now, staring into the eyes of others who glow back at me, I literally see everyone here as divine beings who are also simply lost in an acting role, forgetting their true nature. But in this moment, I perceive them as divine and unconditionally loveable. In fact, it is extremely easy to love them.
“We have been waiting for two and a half years for Brenda to reach this place,” Keith tells other on the porch as he grins at me.
Avoided Drama
Keith and I engage in magical conversation for nearly a half hour as the rest of the porch watches on. I giggle frequently as we talk about the amazing shift that has taken place since yesterday. It is a huge validation for me and what I am currently feeling.
After Keith moves on, Steven tells me that yesterday, in my darkest hour, he knew it was not time to help me, but today, he was strongly guided to sit and stare into my eyes. I am so deeply grateful for inspired friends.
At one point, I begin to feel deep pains in my solar plexus, but rather than judge myself for hurting, I go inside to sit with the pain … to see what is up. Immediately I get the intuitive feeling that this is not even my pain – that I am reading it from somewhere else. I glance up and giggle when I notice that Keith is assisting a young man across the porch – helping him release agonizing density from his abdomen. As I observe this and relax, the pain in my belly immediately vanishes.
I giggle as I realize that, just yesterday, such an experience might have taken me to the depths of self-judgment, pushing me into another drama loop.
Unfathomable Possibilities
As Keith continues to work with others, he repeatedly turns to praise me as being the magical being that I am. In this moment, I really feel the magic.
In one such moment, Keith tells me that I will likely go back to the story, doing so repeatedly, and that each time I will learn more of what I need to learn.
“No I won’t,” I giggle back, feeling determined to prove Keith wrong. But I also recognize the likely possibility. I am so clear right now that I find it difficult to fathom how I could be in any other state. The thought of losing this clarity is not one I wish to entertain. But I clearly understand that even if the story does return, that it will never again be quite the same.
Overwhelming Distractions
When Keith again moves on, I glance around the porch, picking up on many distractions that would have once driven me crazy. In this moment, I see it all as acting and entertainment, as an external movie testing my resolve to disengage from this story-based reality.
As I observe some of the crazy distractions taking place, I find it mind-boggling. But with giggles on my face, I remain unattached to the story in any way. I am above the judgment and the story, still seeing everyone here as actors playing a humorous role – all as an opportunity to see how (or if) I will react. For most of the next hour, the level of distraction is increasingly overwhelming and intense. Four separate and very loud side-conversations are taking place, drowning out my ability to hear Keith. A few others are playing with and talking about essential oils and crystals.
“Welcome,” Keith grins at me as I finally stand up and move to the corner where he is working.
My only interest is to disengage from the other situations and to hear more of what Keith is saying. I tell him the stories were trying to distract and engage me again, but I am not going there. Keith congratulates me for how I handled the distractions.
Congratulations Galore
After a while, a friend asks Keith to engage in a group meditation.
“Yes, Please,” I lovingly express agreement. “Can we please rejoin the group energy?”
Keith soon agrees, and the meditation is a beautiful experience for all who remain. I am experiencing magical energy tingling and shifting in nearly all my chakras, with an especially beautiful and radiant energy vibrating in my heart.
As the ceremony concludes, there is a huge round of hugging, as several of my friends are preparing to leave San Marcos. One friend, who hasn’t hugged me in nearly two months, approaches and gives me a huge, genuine hug, giggling and thanking me for being so emotionally real today.
“Congratulations … congratulations … congratulations,” Keith tells me when I hug him. “And thank you for being here. You know you were holding a really high vibration space during most of the ceremony.”
We again talk briefly, discussing the possibility of me not maintaining this new “lack-of-story” focus – but that each time I will grow more, and I will never again see stories quite the same.
A Wild Ride
As I arrive home, I quickly type up a few notes before Linda returns. Seconds later, I hear music playing and we eagerly follow an Easter procession around various parts of San Marcos, engaging in a little cultural flare on her last evening at Lake Atitlan. After a delightful pizza, we set the alarm for 6:00 a.m., so that we can make sure she gets on her Antigua shuttle tomorrow morning.
“Wow, that went fast,” I ponder my friend’s beautiful visit.
The visit did not go exactly as expected … it was more beautiful than ever. I am grateful that her presence was a guiding factor in me exploring the God drama, exploring stories, and exploring social fears. We remain friends, and I love the fact that she can have her truth and I can have mine.
It has been a wild roller-coaster ride this week, beginning on Sunday with a beautiful meditation where I made a conscious choice to embrace the light shadow, ignoring the “blinders” that were trying to derail that decision. With my friend here, I went on a journey to the bottom, to a point of questioning for the umpteenth time whether I really belong in San Marcos at all – throwing a huge and very familiar inner temper tantrum taking me right back to a frequent childhood battle with my mother.
After hitting the bottom, there was nowhere to go but up. With humility and a desire for self-love in my heart, I rode an unimaginable wave that literally dissolved the stories, leaving me in a state of ordinary magic – a state of profoundly understanding the absurdity of thinking that this body is me.
Stranger Than Fiction
As I ponder the absurdity of stories, it occurs to me that I can indeed continue to tell stories. But from now on, they are just fiction, mere stage plays, stories of a lost mind. In the eyes of Brenda, the method actress, these stories are true and real, but from the eyes of the divine, they are simply an experience, no different than a ride down a frightening waterslide.
Saturday morning, after working out a few tricky details, I help Linda get on an alternate shuttle, and she speeds off into the distance for her journey back home. I then quickly return to my apartment to check my emails and do a little meditating. I am eager to prepare for a long day of writing.
I cannot help but reminisce how Keith told me yesterday that he had waited two and a half years for me to reach this place. Giggles fill my heart as I realize that the stories have still not returned, at least for now. In this moment, I really do see through a new perspective, one beautifully described in this new email quote from Rasha, “A Moment Of Oneness #128” – a quote that just happened to show up in my inbox this morning:
“The key to transcending conditions, in which you perceive the evidence of limitation, is not to dwell upon the essence of that limitation, but rather, to dwell, utterly and completely, in a perception of how you would like to have it be. Thus, regardless of the nature of the condition in question, were you to see yourself in circumstances devoid of that condition, you would have initiated the process that would lead, energetically, to that very reality.
Were you instead to dwell, in a state of dread, upon how much you do not wish to be in a certain condition, you succeed in reinforcing the vibrational building blocks for the continuation of those circumstances. For, in stating to yourself what your physical senses have shown you to be your reality, you serve to reinforce the energetic grid that magnetizes that category of experience.”
It occurs to me that my life stories are exactly that … an energetic grid that magnetizes the same category of experience.
As I finish a long day of writing and publishing “Prodigiously Profound Power Parallels,” I giggle at how easy the writing flows, and how, even now, the stories seem so silly and absurd. Time will prove that I am not yet done with such stories, but for now, I continue to revel in this beautiful and magical experience.
… to be continued …
Copyright © 2013 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved