(Note, this is part four of what will likely be at least six parts. In this writing, I share my experiences from my second integration period at the “Temple of the Way of Light”. More parts will follow …)
Because the month of February is so short, there is only one day of break between the end of my second ayahuasca workshop and the beginning of my second integration period. And this Sunday, March 2, 2014, turns out to be a beautiful day. Sleep is at the top of my list, but that desire is preempted by beautiful social conversation. After feeling like a social loser just last night, I find deep loving validation from a new friend, who emphasizes repeatedly how deeply she values my wisdom. I needed that.
And later, another young man in my group refers to me as being “charismatic.” I blush with a huge smile at the term. I don’t believe that I have ever been called charismatic at any other time in my life.
As this relaxing day enters the history books, I spend a late evening listening to Krishna Das on my IPOD, while playing silly games with Bobby-bear and Brenda-doll, all while a huge thunderstorm excitedly rages outside in the dark jungle. My legs tingle and flow with vibrating energy as the storm progresses. I love the magic of the moment.
Unanswered Questions
I wake up on Monday morning, the first day of integration number two, being startled out of a dream that feels very familiar. It is a recurring dream that I have never before retained in conscious memory. In this slightly different version of a familiar nighttime journey, I had gone back to work as a consultant for two different computer companies, including the one that had employed me for eighteen years before my mutually-agreed-upon layoff in 2007. Suddenly, in the middle of the dream, I realize I had been working for at least two months for each company, without having ever received a paycheck from either or them.
Just prior to waking up, I had set off in search of Human Resources, hoping to resolve the issue of, “Why am I not being paid for my work?” But, just as in all previous recurring versions of this dream, the quest ends in vain as I wake up without the answer.
“Am I supposed to be getting paid for what I am doing?” I ponder a possible interpretation as I meditate, trying to understand this very familiar (yet forgotten) dream journey.
“And where am I supposed to be working?” I continue the questioning.” Is it time to get a job? … or write my book? … or perhaps seek employment here at the Temple?”
A Perfect Setup
In the afternoon, after several new participants arrive for the deep-immersion workshop starting today, I am surprised by a very long, weird, and tense group introduction meeting. The “substitute” facilitator attempts to guide the group into making a series of mutual “agreements” (rules that are not rules) – but in the process of trying to resolve issues about quiet times and being considerate with music, the facilitator manages to stir up emotions on all sides. I simply sit and observe with curiosity, not letting myself get sucked into any emotional viewpoints (even though I have many).
In fact, I am quite confused by my own feelings. When I came to the Temple in January, I had the impression that it was supposed to be a very quiet place, with no music allowed, except with earphones. But during the last two weeks, several friends in my workshop were musicians, and they frequently played instruments and sang in the common areas during daytime hours. Our facilitator had allowed the music, and I had developed a love/hate relationship with the rule variation – at times joining in and wishing I could make all the noise I wanted, wanting to sing out – and at times feeling violated by the nonstop playing at inconsiderate volumes.
The result of the afternoon meeting seems to me to be the worst of all possible scenarios. The musicians seem tense and frustrated, and those arguing in favor of no music seem equally as annoyed and unsatisfied.
For me, it is a perfect setup to enter the next two weeks of solo inner work.
A Long And Difficult Day
Early on Tuesday, March 4, I participate in a 7:00 a.m. yoga class. I resisted going, but was glad I went. As was the pattern in my first integration period, the intense hip stretching again triggers intense emotional release.
And for whatever reason, that old “lantern on my building” issue continues to trigger me. It is almost comical, but bothers me immensely. The security guard was changed again, and the new guard is again skipping my building.
It is a long and difficult day – one that passes very slowly – with one little issue after another being presented for my evaluation.
By evening, my body surprises me with an intense round of intestinal purging, cleansing my entire digestive system for nearly two hours. Rather than react by taking medication, intuitions tell me to just let the cleanse happen naturally. Whatever it is releases quickly, and by bedtime, I am back to normal. I am learning to trust everything that happens, without needing to judge or understand every little detail.
Another Perfect Setup
The emotional triggering continues on Wednesday, as I scribble in my journal that, “I feel as if I am an alien misfit today.” I wonder if this was triggered by the hip releases in that yoga class yesterday, but I really have no clue. I only know that I am back to feeling emotions of being “alone and abandoned”.
The musicians in my group seem more interested in music than in participating with integration activities, and many others seem to only want to pass their entire days engaged in mundane conversation about topics that simply do not interest me in any way.
In my little “projected world”, I perceive that I am the only one in my group right now who is interested in actually healing my life.
It is actually a perfect and interesting place to find myself. I have spent most of my life trying to “fit in” with others by sacrificing and/or ignoring what is important to me. In this situation, I am presented with new clarity.
“I am here to do inner work,” I smile silently in confidence. “I do not need the love or approval from anyone outside of myself. What everyone else is doing is perfect for them, but what is perfect for me is to focus on my own personal healing journey. I don’t need to try to fit in by engaging in the activities that interest them.”
Part of me demands that I “SHOULD” try to fit in and join my group more. The other part says “NO, I don’t want to fit in with things that do not resonate in my heart.”
It is another perfect setup – giving me the opportunity to “try to fit in and belong’ to situations that do not interest me – or giving me the opportunity to really focus on self love and a personal connection to source.
To The Depths, And Back Again
In an effort to heal all these crazy evolving emotions, I eat a full dose of cacao at 2:00 p.m., just after lunch. Then, I head to an afternoon yoga class. As is the norm, as I go into deep hip stretching (lunges and pigeon pose), I start to quietly sob. I continue to participate in the yoga, repeatedly wiping tears throughout most of the class. The experience is intense, and I again sit alone on my mat, continuing to cry after others leave.
The teacher notices me, and when I glance at her, she comes over to check on me. I explain that many deep and overwhelming emotional layers are surfacing, but that I am fine. I explain that I have felt nothing but intense projections for most of the last two days, but that I am keeping them contained while trying to work with the emotions inside of me – not externalizing them.
We have a beautiful chat, and I continue to cry a lot, both before and after she leaves. Soon, I return to my room.
It is hard, but I force myself to meditatively imagine sitting at the edge of the fiery pits of mount doom, finding the willingness to let this emotion go – to let “my precious” ring (reference to Lord of the Rings) be dissolved by the transmuting power of the lava below. In an effort to lighten the mood, I engage little Bobby-bear and Brenda-doll, giggling with them while asking the light to help and show me – to lead me in a process that cannot be directed with the mind.
Finally, I feel the emotions simply transmute and vanish. As my mood stabilizes, I walk down and join five members of my group as they socialize, maintaining a high vibration as I simply observe conversation that does not interest me in any way.
Later, during dinner, I have another beautiful connecting chat with Diana. In the process of talking about our work with cacao, a nearby young woman (work-exchange) overhears and asks if I mean “Keith, the chocolate guy from Guatemala.” I can only giggle when she explains that she did a ceremony with Keith last year when he was touring in England.
I love how I am now back in positive energy, once again – and how amazing synchronicities continue to unfold.
Trust What Comes
Late Wednesday evening, I find myself engaged in beautiful meditation while energies fill my belly and chest, working especially in areas that have been deeply blocked in the past.
It is a beautiful meditation, one that eventually leads me into sleep, and another familiar dream – another dream that has been frequently repeated but never brought back to conscious memory until now.
In the dream, I am about to perform in a stage play, but I have not practiced my lines for a very long time. I ask a nearby woman for the “pink book” with the script. But the book is shrunken and tiny, and I cannot read it. Suddenly, three of my fellow cast members start to sing a song from the play, and I join in, knowing all the words. It is during this part of the dream that I wake up, with the song still flowing (but quickly fading within a few minutes).
The dream was strangely familiar, and the play felt real, as if I have done it many times before, but never in waking reality.
The meaning of the dream is never clear, even with meditation afterward. As I again fall asleep, I begin to wonder if the message is that, “I already know my role … my purpose … my song to sing … and the gist of my lines … and I don’t need that pink script book anymore. I can just trust what comes through me without needing a memorized script.”
It is only as I write that the color “pink” jumps out with resonance. Pink is usually considered to be the color of self-love. Wow, I don’t need a script to love my self and to follow the guidance of my own heart.
Going Insane
Thursday morning yoga again triggers more deep emotion during both pigeon poses and lunges. I manage to be compassionate with myself, feeling the emotion, but without crying visibly.
But later, during breakfast, I feel weird triggers again as I observe my group from afar.
“I don’t fit in here,” the emotions scream in my head. “And Peter (my former neighbor and continued nemesis) is triggering me to the max. This morning, there was only one mango, and he (our kitchen helper) took it and ate it all by himself, not sharing with anyone else.”
As I look around the dining hall, every member of my group seems to trigger me again. I want to scream and isolate.
After a quick “bucket shower” with cold water, I return to my room to continue reading in Paulo Coelho’s “The Alchemist” – a beautiful little book that I am reading for the third or fourth time in my five-year journey.
Meanwhile, I eat a half dose of cacao, determined to go deep. It is another strange day, with a few nice lunchtime conversations, but mostly filled by many deep ongoing triggers and buttons being pushed.
“Help! I am going insane!” I scribble in my journal at 5:00 p.m., just before dinner.
A Volatile Short Fuse
As I meditate deeper into the emotion, I begin to wonder if the emotions I have been feeling all week are even my own – or if perhaps I have been simply feeling the emotions being repressed by other people.
“Does this emotion even really belong to anyone?” I ask myself.
I realize that perhaps, I am still just wide open in my energy, and taking in everything from all around me, innocently believing that it is all my own.
I have seen and felt things in others since my earliest memories, but have always confused by what I felt, believing myself to be a horrible, judgmental, and evil person for perceiving such things in others.
Now I see that such experiences have made me feel attacked since I was a tiny baby. No wonder I have had so much confusion and chaos in my life, and in my relationships with my mother, with God, and with so many others.
“None of this emotional energy is even mine,” I ponder with clarity. “All of it is just impersonal collective stuff that I have chosen to feel and heal in my lifetime.”
But as I continue to meditate before dinner, I want to scream, run away, and die. I am so emotionally sensitive right now that it scares me. I do not know how to balance – and not sure if I even want to try. I am literally feeling overwhelmed by hatred for certain people right now, wondering if this is their own self-hatred, or what it actually is.
The “volatile short fuse” that I feel right now is so familiar. I realize that throughout my life it has always been noise, chaos, and commotion that has carried an energetic component that overwhelms me, making me feel victimized. And knowing that no one else around me even seemed to be affected by those triggers made me feel even more confused. I received no outside validation for my emotional sensitivity.
As I prepare to go to dinner on this Thursday, March 6, I cannot find the strength NOT to identify with this onslaught of intense emotional energy. I cannot find that illusive self-love that I so desperately need.
I literally feel insane as these emotional energies continue to overwhelm me.
An Inner Journey
The journey continues as I go to the dining hall at 5:30 p.m.. In the midst of what starts out as a beautiful connecting conversation with Diana, another member of my group interrupts and hijacks the conversation. I end up eating my meal in silence.
As I quickly leave when done eating, I grab an extra lantern to take back to my still lantern-less porch. The facilitator for the present workshop group sees me and asks how I am doing.
“I’m really emotional right now,” I tell her as I start to walk away, trying to avoid interaction.
But she follows me and tells me she is free to talk if I need a listening ear. I try to resist, but as I turn around to tell her I am fine, tears stream down my cheeks.
Most of our conversation does not resonate much with me, but one simple little catch phrase touches me deeply. She reminds me that “E-motion” is just “Energy in motion”. I quickly tell her that I agree, but as I later ponder the simple message, it is clear that everything I am feeling is simply impersonal emotional energy that happens to be in motion flowing through me – and I am struggling NOT to identify with it.
I soon thank the facilitator for her kind offer to talk more, but explain that “all the talk in the world will not solve this … that I need to go inside and reconnect to my heart … and that my head and mental concepts cannot fix anything.”
Soon, I am back in my room, meditating, with a lantern on my porch. It is an intense, tantrum-filled inner journey. After nearly an hour of deep sobbing, dry heaving, and silently screaming out intense anger at the angels, I finally reach the bottom of the layer.
I feel much better, and even manage a giggle or two with Bobby-bear, but for the most part I remain quite emotionally numb as I drift off to sleep.
Flowing Insights
I awake on Friday, March 7, day five of the integration, feeling slightly better. Sleeping helped a lot, but there is still a great deal of intense processing to go during the morning.
I eat and run after a quick breakfast, drink a full dose of cacao, and hunker in for a full day of meditating, remaining mostly in my room except for meal times.
In the morning, I write down the following insights, some of many that flow easily.
1. My whole life has been metaphorically like my first six ayahuasca ceremonies in Iquitos. I have felt overwhelmed by literal hurricanes of energy – energies that felt like a massive attack. I felt like an alien loser through it all.
2. I have literally lived my entire life behind defensive walls, desperately trying to defend my sanity from the sand-blasting, attacking, emotional energies that have felt as if they would tear me apart. It is like I was in a castle surrounded by moats, shields, and an array of armaments. I have expended massive amounts of energy simply attempting to survive and maintain these defenses.
3. My physical clenching is not just in my structural muscles. It also includes my organs, my heart, my breathing, etc. – and all of it is a part of my defense against the siege of energies.
4. The way out of this “life of protection” is the same as what happened in that New Years Eve ceremony – the one where, with the help of Ramon and Slocum, I found that centered spot in the midst of absolute surrender, in the eye of the energy storm. It was a place of trust, relaxation, breathing, and feeling peace.
5. I again remember “the rope course” (an unsolvable rigged game trying to find the end of a circular rope) and realize the hopelessness of solving this unsolvable riddle using the mind. There remains a huge amount of repressed anger in me (directed toward higher powers) regarding a life struggle that is unsolvable with the mind.
All of the above is now intuitively and experientially obvious to me, but as I contemplate meditating into that “sweet spot,” I instead move into a layer of intense anger and rage. I go through layer after layer of intense emotional release, struggling not to project the emotion onto Peter and others. The inclination to project is so strong that I want to leave Peru, and I even feel suicidal feelings of wanting to die.
Relaxed And Free
Still deep in meditation and agitated with ongoing projection, I intentionally arrive late for lunch, and then sit in a corner while eating. I do not want to risk projecting any of this emotion onto another living being.
Soon, I am back in my room, again resuming an agonizing inner journey into this repressed angry emotion. I spend most of the afternoon unable to access or release the emotion. In fact, I do not even want to let it go. It seems that this is part of my ammunition for my God Drama – my justification as to why I have a right to be angry at Deity.
Just before 4:00 p.m., I step out of my room for a restroom break. My whole mood quickly shifts to love and compassion as I briefly chat with a young man (on the other end of my three-room building) who is extremely sick (possible malaria). When I return to my room a few minutes later, I meditate into that light and joy, asking for higher assistance while expressing my readiness to now let go of this very ugly and extremely sticky emotional layer.
Finally, I feel relaxed and free at around 4:30. I am very proud of myself for doing such incredibly deep work, without turning it into the intense trauma and drama that it could so easily have become. I wanted to project the emotion. I was so close to wallowing in it. But I contained it, I felt it to the core, and when I finally found the strength and willingness to do so, I released it to the light.
Return To Love And Gratitude
At dinner, I am surprised to realize that I still feel very un-social and emotionally numb – mostly in shock.
At 6:40 p.m., I am back in my room, in bed, feeling unmotivated and numb. I feel gratitude for all the deep emotional work I have been able to complete, but I feel no desire to use my wisdom and experience to help anyone else. I just want to isolate.
Soon, I immerse myself into meditation, focusing on loving myself – loving the me that has been so angry, hateful, rage-filled, etc…
As I send love, love, love, I start to sob and dry heave, metaphorically screaming out more of the emotional energy at a group of angels. Quickly, I separate from the emotion, imagining myself as holding high vibration space for a teenage me that was deeply struggling. Wow, the journey is intense, intense, and more intense.
With the process continuing, I move up to other ages of my life, repeating profound release and self-love for each stage of a life of struggle. I express profound love for every cell of my being – for every molecule at every age in every experience.
Soon, I begin to feel magical energy opening and moving around in my heart, from the front to the back. It is joyful energy, perhaps not as strong as I experienced last week, but more stable and permanent.
I absolutely know that the intense sorrow and anger I have been releasing were the source of the deep heartache that I felt last week in ceremonies – the feelings of deep inner aching that I was unable to access or purge during that February 28 ceremony of rejected misery.
Wow, what a difference an hour of profound meditation can make. At 7:45 p.m., I am feeling inspired and alive, free and ready to take on a new day.
Just a short while ago, I literally wanted to die. Now, I am deeply grateful for life. I accessed such profound self-love and gratitude in this process, and found such a sweet union of masculine and feminine selves. When complete, I feel deep gratitude for my masculine and feminine inner children. They were so courageous, and so filled with awesome and incredible love.
An Insane Round Of Triggers
On Saturday, March 8, I wake up rested, still in a very nice energy, feeling quite social. But it seems that more triggering is on the way.
As I casually share with a friend how I had an unpleasant experience of needing to wipe urine off the bathroom seats this morning, several other women speak up with similar experiences. Suddenly, Peter (my arch nemesis former neighbor) speaks up angrily, barking that it is “Not just about men.” He proceeds to angrily express his disgust at women that left certain things in the shared bathroom of the work exchange center.
Intuitively, I know without a doubt that Peter’s anger and defensiveness is aimed directly at me.
Then, shortly before lunch, as Peter comes into the dining hall from outside, he smugly barges through the front door, pushing it rapidly. The door bounces firmly and remains open about three feet, leaving the entire dining hall vulnerable to further invasion by mosquitoes (which are becoming more of an issue every day).
“Uhhhhh … can you PLEASE shut the door?” I speak to Peter in a stern, somewhat impatient voice. I feel shocked by his inconsiderate behavior.
Peter looks at me with a deeply annoyed look and grudgingly marches back to the door, forcefully flings it again, and leaves without looking back. The door again bounces open, leaving a several foot opening for mosquitoes to enter.
“Uhhhhh … it is NOT closed,” I speak, again feeling quite annoyed.
“If you want something, you need to do it yourself,” Peter barks back.
“It is the job of the person who opens to door to make sure it is closed again,” I patiently-but-firmly speak as Peter stomps away.
Feeling transparent to Peter’s rude behavior, I get up and simply close the door for him. I have no desire to engage in his petty tantrum behavior. I am quite clear that, at least for now, this is NOT my issue … it is his.
The Brink Of Repeating
Later, while in the food line for lunch, I was casually explaining to a friend what had just happened with the dining room door issue. Thinking I am speaking in a low volume, I mention that I had politely asked Peter to close the door, but that he got extremely angry at me.
“It wasn’t a polite request!!!” Peter suddenly shouts loudly from about twenty feet away, making sure everyone around can hear.
I realize I was out of line for talking about the situation at all, but I was being truthful and simply talking to a friend. I know I did nothing wrong in the earlier exchange, and that his behavior was extremely rude. Yes, my speech had been firm and slightly impatient, but it WAS polite.
Again, I feel very transparent and let the entire encounter just fade without engaging or attaching to any of the emotion. But I start to sink into emotional shock just a while later. I suddenly realize that my relationship with Peter is rapidly escalating to a repeat performance of what happened with both Paul and then Catherine on Keith’s porch in Guatemala. It is obvious that I am on the brink of repeating those same intense patterns of painful projection, with yet another person. I do not want to go there.
Frozen In Silence
As fate would have it, just after lunch there is an improve comedy class called “Love Space”. I want to participate, but the deep emotions that are now surging have me all twisted up inside. The idea of repeating those old patterns, with another person, yet again, is heart wrenching, and my emotions are on the raw edge of disaster.
I am quite tentative as I sit waiting for the “Love Space” to begin. I quietly approach the leader and ask him if it is OK to simply observe if I do not feel comfortable participating. He reassures me that this would be fine.
When things get going, the first activity is to stand in a big circle and to introduce ourselves using a really silly adjective and our first name, along with some type of boisterous body action to emphasize the adjective. The first eight or nine people in front of me seem to have a lot of fun being out-of-control silly, but the closer my turn approaches, the more panic fills my heart. I cannot think of any adjective that begins with a “B” (at least one I want to use), and I am not feeling even the tiniest bit silly.
Suddenly, when all attention turns to me, I freeze up in silence, wait five seconds, and then point to the person next to me.
“C’mon, Brenda,” several people encourage me. “Join us.”
In response, hiding my emotional panic, I stand up and go sit in the back of the room, leaning against the wall. I don’t want to run away completely, but there is no way I can participate. My heart is pounding and I feel trapped. Deep emotions of self-hatred are rampant, raging, and raw.
In what feels like self-torture, I endure the next hour as an observer, feeling totally alien, utterly stupid, wishing I could hide and bury myself in a deep hole. But for whatever reason, I force myself to stay and observe. Everyone else is having so much fun. I just wish I could die.
Intensely Emotional
At 3:30 p.m., the improve ends, and those of us in integration remain for a group sharing meeting. I am the second to last to share. All of the topics discussed before my turn seem to trigger me deeply. There are problems with not enough food in the kitchen. I absolutely know the answer is simple; simply cook more food. But every time I have tried to suggest this solution in the past, I have met with rejection by Peter (who is in charge of the food). He insists that people just need to not be such pigs and instead, eat less. Peter refuses to budge when I suggest otherwise. I simply observe this discussion, knowing that keeping my mouth shut is the best option.
Then, another hot topic arises when one member of my group asks about doing a “plant dieta” during our next workshop. The topic turns controversial when the facilitator tells the group that there will be no more dietas. She gives a lot of “reasons” why they are being discontinued at the Temple, but every one of those reasons seems like just an excuse to me. I already had a strong agreement with my previous facilitator that I would be able to do an extended “plant dieta” during my final month, and I have had my heart set on the idea. The idea of having this option taken from me just further pokes me where it already hurts.
Finally, the intense discussions ends and it is my turn to share.
“This is a very powerful and intense integration period for me,” I express through muffled emotional tears. “I have done a lot of deep processing over the last four days, and have had some deep profound breakthroughs … but right now I am back in another layer. I have a lot of emotion over the topics that have been discussed, but I know it is best for me not to speak right now.”
“Can we talk privately … later?” I ask the facilitator.
Coerced Sharing
After the room clears, the facilitator approaches and asks if we can talk now. I try to back out, explaining that I am still too emotional, and it would not be productive. But she talks me into sharing anyway.
I explain my deep history of struggle with “Peter” and how it is turning into a major battle. I tell her that I accept full responsibility for my projecting and triggers.
“But I am NOT crazy about the behaviors I am observing in him,” I add with firmness.
I feel guilty even talking about the topic, but the facilitator keeps convincing me to share more. Telling me that she will take care of the kitchen issues (more food), she reassures me that my name will not be mentioned, and then she advises me to simply avoid all interactions with Peter.
“He’s leaving soon,” she then reassures me, as she also acknowledges that I am not the only one to have a problem with Peter.
Then, when I explain my deep emotion over having my promised “plant dieta” taken away from me, she reassures me that based on my former verbal assurances from my previous facilitator, that we can probably work something out … and that I just need to make a case for my dieta as being necessary for medical reasons. This makes me feel much better.
Even though I did not want to discuss these issues publicly, I feel much better for having cleared the air with my facilitator.
Bursts Of Insight
After a nice validating discussion with a friend at dinner, I return to my room, going into deep meditative reflection about the intense emotional journey on which I find myself. As I close my eyes, I am quite surprised by the absence of emotion.
“I finally get the life-long lesson,” intuitions begin to flow. “Since I was a young child, I have been punished and tormented for knowing truths that others could simply not see.”
Keith (Chocolate Shaman) had explained this to me repeatedly in my first years working with him, but finally I truly understand the idea at an experiential level. There is no doubt in my heart that my assessments of Peter are quite accurate. But I also know that I am attracting him into my experience to pound this lesson home. My job is not to change Peter in any way. My job is to learn to be totally transparent and to heal any emotional reactions that may arise in me as a result of our interactions. His innocent triggering of my pain is actually a blessing to me.
From day one with Paul in Guatemala, I saw his behavior and understood his motives. After six months of torture, Keith eventually admitted to me that I picked up on many things in Paul’s behavior even before he (Keith) had seen them. Even so, with all the pain and projections that I went through with Paul, I am profoundly grateful, because I learned to trust myself, and I learned to allow others to be who they are, having their OWN truth.
And the same is true with Catherine. I was (and partially still am) engaged in deep projection battles with her. Yes, I needed to heal my side of the issue (which was huge), but my observations and awareness of her unhealed ego issues (and how she projected them onto me) were always quite accurate.
In each of these cases, when I attempted to share my observations, I simply got in trouble for being judgmental and intolerant of others.
“Wow,” I ponder again with shock. “As a tiny child, I KNEW a lot of truth, but was metaphorically body slammed for trying to express my truth. My mouth was repeatedly washed out with soap or cayenne pepper, I was belt whipped and accused of being judgmental if I expressed my observations over things that “I could not possibly know”.”
Living Personal Truth
“By age six, I was devastated,” The insights just keep flowing. “My truth was so invalidated by others that I abandoned all belief in myself, losing myself in confusion. No wonder I didn’t even trust my ability to smile correctly in first grade.”
Everything I knew in my heart was made wrong and/or punished out of me. I was left not trusting anything about myself, living solely in search of outside validation, refusing to do anything unless there was a recipe or set of instructions on how to do it correctly.
All of my inner knowing only got me in trouble. I gave up all belief in anything and everything creative. If there was no formula for assured success, I would refuse to even try.
In fact, as I ponder further, I realize that throughout my life, I have been “made fun of” for knowing truth. Even knowing answers to mental/academic topics has gotten me in trouble. To this very day, if I express obvious solutions to what for me are easily solvable problems, people frequently give me dirty looks and/or make fun of me.
“Even now,” I ponder, “I am still terrified to trust what I know, especially when it involves my perceptions of other people.”
After these realization finish flowing, I engage in another round of deep emotional release, silently screaming out years of painful frustration. Then I spend another hour and a half in deep meditation.
The result of the meditation is profound. My only job in life is to embrace and live my own personal truth (as revealed to me) to its fullest. In my unique reality, all of my inner knowing is one hundred percent true for me – but what is true for me may not necessarily be true in anyone else’s reality. What matters is that I trust my own journey … my own knowing … in my own personal holodeck of creation.
The Alchemist
Wow, as Sunday, March 9, begins, I am shocked that my integration period has been so intense, and I am barely halfway through the process. Today is day seven of this second integration period.
Beautiful energy swirls in my belly and heart regions as I feel new sensations opening and expanding in my energy field. It is a beautiful experience. It is now easy to see that from my perspective, “Peter” is simply a wounded little boy, desperately trying to carve out and protect a piece of the world for himself, taking what he deserves as he tries to survive in his own personal holodeck.
I enjoy a delightful breakfast while simply avoiding any interaction with Peter. Afterward, I drink another full dose of cacao and immerse myself in reading “The Alchemist” by Paulo Coelho. As I read page 153, I burst into deep tears of profound recognition as I read the following words:
“The boy told himself, that on the way toward realizing his own destiny, he had learned all he needed to know, and had experienced everything he might have dreamed of.”
This resonates to my core as I realize my own personal journey has done the same for me, teaching me everything I needed to know to heal my life, in ways I could never have imagined using my mind.
But it is when I read page 155 that a sense of deep, joyful inner knowing consumes me in the form of deep tears.
A Beautiful Heart Tapestry
I don’t want to ruin the story for anyone, so skip ahead if you have not read the book. In the story, the young boy Santiago had been on a quest to follow his heart and connect with the Universe. He was literally following a dream that took him all the way to the pyramids of Egypt. Near the end of the story, he was beaten, robbed, and left near death, only to have the robber share his (the robber’s) own dream, telling Santiago in a coded message that what he sought was now back home, in the place where his (Santiago’s) dreams had first started.
Shivers shake me to the core as intuitions whisper that I too am near the end of my own journey, and that very soon, the treasure I seek will be found right back where I started.
It seems that, for me, “The Alchemist” is metaphorically my own personal story. At the very end of the book, on page 160, one more line jumps out at me (in reference to Santiago now knowing that his treasure lies back home):
“If I had told you, you wouldn’t have seen the Pyramids.” The wise man tells Santiago. “They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
My journey has indeed been a beautiful blessing filled with growth, learning, and wisdom. I cannot wait to see where my guidance takes me from here.
The remainder of this Sunday is amazing and beautiful, filled with magical social encounters with beautiful people, one after the other. Words simply cannot do justice to the shifts I feel in my energy after the beautiful deep inner work I have done in the last few days, and especially last night.
“It is as if all the disjointed threads of my healing journey suddenly got woven together into a beautiful tapestry in my heart,” I tell several people as I try to explain my sudden shift.
“It is like all of the pieces of the puzzle suddenly came together in my heart, glued in place by love.” I explain to others.
During dinner, one young man tells me that when we took turns looking into each others’ eyes during an earlier dance therapy exercise, that when he looked in my eyes he saw profound “wisdom”.
As I finally drift off to sleep at the end of an amazing day, I feel extremely confident as lots of energy shifts around in my body and forehead.
Happy Birthday To Me
Not only is Monday, March 10, 2014 the eighth day of this second integration period, but it is also the fifty-ninth anniversary of my birth on this earth – the fifth birthday that I have celebrated during my travels.
I begin the day with more magical meditation. I am quite excited, because today I will be leading a small cacao ceremony for four of my new friends. They have been begging me for weeks to do a ceremony with them. Today, everything has aligned, and I cannot think of a more beautiful way to spend my special day.
After everyone sings Happy Birthday to me at breakfast, my four friends and I disappear into a nearby staff tambo, circle up, and begin the ceremony. I will not talk about the experiences of my friends, other than to say that I am deeply impressed and humbled. Each does amazing journeying, doing so with courage, engaging in profound subconscious work, each unique and deep.
As has been my experience during the other times that I have led ceremonies, I simply need to hold deep, high vibration space, and speak when guided. My dear friends do all the work. I later receive magical feedback from each of them.
When I felt intuitively clear, I guided and asked non-leading questions, allowing each person to direct their journey. When they seemed stuck, I simply asked more questions to help them find their own answer. When I felt somewhat lost and unsure, I simply sat back and said nothing, trusting that this is the best option. Repeatedly, I suggested possible ways to work with the arising issues, and every time it seemed to be perfect. I surprised myself with the depth and wealth of knowledge that resides inside of me.
An Exciting Ride
After the ceremony, I return to my room. My head feels “wired” with energy. I am unable to focus in my own meditation. So rather than push myself, I seek out a friend and end up having a lovely evening of beautiful conversation.
By 7:15 p.m., my over-stimulated energy finally settles enough that I can do my own meditation.
As I rest in meditation, it occurs to me that it is almost exactly fifty nine years, to the hour, that my mother was at the hospital, waiting for an emergency caesarian section.
“Wow,” I ponder with giggles. “Fifty nine years full circle, from magic and innocence, surrounded by unseen and unrecognized angelic choirs, to deep shutdown that happened almost immediately, to finally beginning to come back to my awakening magic, innocence, and self-love.”
“And finally,” I giggle with love, “I can truly say that I am grateful for the exciting ride.”
Three Funky Days
On Tuesday, March 11, I am blessed with my first easy day in a long time. It is a relaxed day in which I share my story with a couple more people, engage in beautiful social conversation, and then do a little restorative yoga. I cannot put my finger on it, but a new energy is also buzzing through me – one that is almost uncomfortable. Today during a qigong class I was quite dizzy and could not even finish the class.
Wednesday, March 12, begins in a similar way, but by early afternoon I feel like isolating, and I actually walk out of the “self inquiry” class when I don’t feel comfortable with answering the questions. I am in a good place, but feeling somewhat disconnected and tired, with very low energy. In a kind of plea for something different, I begin to read a science fiction novel. I am so tired of dealing with emotions right now.
Thursday is another day of emotional disconnect. Rather than interact with others, I remain in my room and read, read, and read, eventually finishing that long science fiction novel that I began just yesterday.
It is mid afternoon when the leader of the “self inquiry” class stops by and knocks on my door. She wants to talk about my walking out yesterday. I apologize for leaving her in that awkward state. As I do so, I begin to stream tears down my cheeks. This is exactly what I need to pop the cork. Before she leaves, this young woman tells me she heard wonderful things about my chocolate ceremony. I love the third-party feedback. Soon, I return to my room and sob or a while, and let the pressure release from whatever is blocking me right now.
By evening, I am again very disconnected. But rather than judge my three days of funkiness, I simply remain gentle with myself, trusting that all is well.
Disconnected But Nice
Day twelve, the final day of this second integration, sneaks in out of nowhere. It is a “nice” day, but I remain quite disconnected from the social vibe of my group. I show my face for meals, and hang around the dining hall for some socializing, but I just don’t feel like connecting all that much.
Many in the group go on another jungle hike (like the one a month ago) out to find that same huge tree (Feb 14, 2014). I decide that I am just too physically weak right now to even attempt a repeat journey.
At 5:15 p.m., I am resting in a hammock on the balcony of the dining hall. As a young European man walks up, he looks at me and says “Beautiful.”
“It was?” I respond, referring to the hike.
“I was talking about YOU!” he answers back.
I enjoy a fun conversation with this beautiful young man, and even have a few really nice interactions with two other members of my group.
Mind Versus Heart
But one event in the day nags and eats away at my heart all afternoon. While waiting for lunch to be served, I had started to comment on the vegetarian dish being placed in the wrong location. Suddenly, a young man reprimands me, telling me the dish will be fine where it is, speaking in a very condescending tone, as if he sees himself as my teacher (which he really does).
As I withdraw and choose not to respond, I see the perfect “high school” setup of this particular event and of most of my other triggers from the last several weeks. I realize that I have been given ample opportunity to give away my power and to seek the approval of others – or to seek the validation and friendship of others in a way that invalidates who I am. But instead, I have not taken that bait. I have remained true to myself, still being social when I wanted to, but not trying to win approval from anyone, especially when doing so would negate my own personal guidance.
In fact, as the day nears completion, I am very content to retire to my room. I feel absolutely no desire in my heart to be that “socialite” because it simply does not resonate as why I am here. The big difference between now and high school, however, is that I know in my heart that I love everyone here, and I know they love me too. I am simply choosing to remain in my own focused energy vibration when external events do not appeal to my intuition.
But even with this self-confidence, my mind wants to beat me up, telling me that I “NEED TO” match the vibrations of others and join in socially, at all costs. My heart, however, clearly disagrees with the mind, telling me that my job is to remain in high vibrations, period. Just before dinner, several of my friends had been in the corner of the dining hall, talking and laughing about social/cultural/celebrity gossip issues – issues that mean nothing to me. Part of me felt guilty, telling me I should join them to fit in. But my heart told me otherwise.
I giggle as I realize this is the core of many of my life-long social struggles. Fitting in at the expense of my heart knowing does not serve anyone. I love how I can see this, and how I can put my own needs at the top of my priority list.
Noise Healing
After dinner, as I meditate in bed, I again dive deep into old emotional wounds, taking me into agonizing release work – most of which is situated around inconsiderate noise. I am reminded of how noisy situations have seemingly energetically attacked me during my whole life. This has been a repeated and ongoing theme just in the past five years of my travels.
Noise has been a trigger for as long as I can remember. Inside, I feel terror at the idea of speaking up, because invariably, I always get in trouble when asking for quiet consideration. No matter what I say or do, my energy is so deeply agitated that I attract others to judge and reject me. And, of course, having this issue has only served to magnetize situations to push my noise buttons over and over and over again.
The result has been self-hatred for being such a dysfunctional noise hater.
The repressed pain is so deep that I find myself feeling terrified to access it. It is an explosive mess that erupts when agitated – a forever repeating loop of attracting noise and then being unable to deal with it in a loving way. This whole last month has been a perfect setup for this moment – especially with all the musicians currently in my group.
Today, I decide to try a different approach. I begin to send deep self-love to the parts of me that hate noise – that despise and are agitated by noise. To my shock and surprise, as I do so, I begin to sob. I meditate deeper and deeper into loving parts of myself – parts that I have rejected time and time again in the past. These are not mean, spiteful, judgmental demons who hate the noise of others. Instead, they are deep wounds that desperately need to be held, caressed, validated, and loved.
It is a beautiful and healing meditation, one helping me to realize, yet again, that there is nothing to judge inside of me. That in all cases, I have always acted with pure intentions. My noise struggles have merely been the rejected and wounded parts of me, begging for love – and anyone who has ever played a role for me in triggering these wounds has only been serving me by showing me where those wounds still are.
Pondering Silence
Saturday, March 15, 2014, is the first of three break days – days between the end of the last integration period and the beginning of my next workshop. But for me, there is not much difference as I continue my focus on ongoing inner work.
As I take advantage of some time to do a little laundry (all by hand), I continue to focus on self-love from that meditation last night. I am finding great healing from this process.
Meanwhile, I also ponder the idea of going into complete silence during the last month of my retreat. I bounce back and forth with the idea, because I want to make sure that my motivation is genuine, and not just an attempt to avoid social triggers (triggers that have actually served me). As of today, no decisions are made, because I remain unsure of whether this would be a positive or negative for me.
On another note, at the completion of this integration period, I now find myself tightening my belt to the fifth loop. During the last two weeks I have lost another inch off my waist, for a total of four inches. (The belt used to be perfect on the first loop.)
As evening comes, I do a little reading in Rasha’s Journey to Oneness, and then enjoy several hours of beautiful inspirational music on my IPOD. I am so grateful for these songs.
On The Brink
I can only giggle on Sunday, when, after recently feeling so socially disconnected, I make a beautiful new friend with an instant energetic connection. It never ceases to amaze me how easy it can be to open up and be deep friends when the energies are in alignment.
And Monday proves to be another beautiful day. It is March 17, 2014, the final day of the break before my third and final ayahuasca workshop begins (tomorrow). It is a day of beautiful socializing, reading, and meditating.
As I look back on the last sixteen days, gratitude fills my heart. They have been beautiful, and they have been emotionally turbulent. They have been filled with love and have overflowed with intense social triggers.
But the one thing I am most proud of is that (with a few tiny exceptions) I managed to not project most of those triggers onto an external screen – and when I did, I quickly pulled the emotions back inside me, determined not to reenergize them even one more time. I would not wish my difficult emotional dumpster diving on anyone. It was not fun and it was not always pretty.
But wow, was it ever productive. Every day, I am feeling the difference. With each emotional layer felt and released, my heart seems to open more, increased confidence fills my soul, and eagerness to continue my healing consumes me.
I am so excited to see where this next and final seven-ceremony ayahuasca workshop takes me. As I approach these next two weeks of healing, a sense of wonder and excitement fill me to the core. I feel as if I am on the brink of huge growth and healing.
… To be continued …
Copyright © 2014 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved