vampire and angel

Just started a new book: When fear falls away by Jan Frazier. She describes how, after a long ordeal with breast cancer, mammograms and biopsies, and hyperventilating from fear – she then got the idea to pray a little prayer – she did not know to whom – and said” could I maybe do this tomorrow (another mammogram) without being terrified?”

She literally felt the fear slide off her – and it left for good. The rest of the book is how she learned to live the “happy dream” – and how the world is not different, but the eyes that look are. To be able to take her descriptions inside is wonderful for me.

I started to voice my prayer, how much I wanted to see everything and everybody different.

I did not take my medication this day – because I am going to the dentist tomorrow, and he might give me anesthetic – and I don’t know if they mix well. In spite of not taking a pill – in three months now, I think – I still slept fairly well. But toward the morning, the fear attack set in, catastrophizing about having to pull all my teeth. The fear felt exactly like  a poisoned pole through my heart, sticking out of my back. I got the thought that I somewhere must believe I am a Dracula, being stopped in my vampirism.  That did not remove the fear or pain.

Blue said: What you seem to be experiencing has all gone by: what you are seeing is the past. Could you forgive yourself for believing the fear is still there? And could you forgive yourself for believing that you are a body ( and wanting to be one?)

This incarnation, I truly have experienced the archetype of the vampire or Dracula – no wonder it is in my psyche. And also, the Course would say that as the Son of God, we believe that we have vampirized God – and here I lay in bed now, being punished and killed with a pole through my heart.

How does it feel to be a vampire? lonely, very very lonely.

There seems to be so much identity in this vampire – truly guilty and abominable and deserving eternal damnation. Who would I be without this story? would there even be a me left?

I am presenting these images and the identity-beliefs to Jesus. I allow the feelings and fear to be there, and also hear an inner clear voice saying NO to that identity. It is not a NO that is opposed to anything, that has to prove something, that comes from fear. It just states a fact.

I become aware that the fear is part of an addiction: my pain-body, as Eckhart Tolle names it, craves it for its food.

I fall asleep, as the chest-pain is abating when not opposed, and have this dream:

I am in a creative process with spontaneous drama and dance with a group of people I don’t recognize. My professor from my education is there as the leader – and also an inspector or supervisor.

There  is a tall angel there, with big clumsy stiff wings. In the play, I am kissing one of his wings at the top where it bends – this muscle with enormous lifting power –  stroking it, warming it, waking it up. It starts to come alive, it remembers being a real wing.

The Angel is gorgeous: a wild and unruly shock of auburn curls. His naked chest also has this auburn hair. His body is exuding an intense longing to be free of the earth-bound shape – it is his spirit, his joy and love for play and fun are shining through his form. This is what I have been kissing alive – this I want – this I want!

I notice that my top or bra has fallen off, and it’s part of the dance now. There is something radiantly white and shiny about my body.We have danced the whole circle now, and the performance is coming to an end. Then I see that there is a low fence there, and behind it are two figures struggling/fighting. The Inspector tells me that the play cannot end before these two figures are included.

I wake up, and know the figures were one of my brothers and I – the one I lived with, and loved so much, 8 years older than me. I am about 9, he about 17. I don’t remember one single time we fought – he was always my big brother and on  my side. These days – he isn’t any more: he refuses to let go of the image of the good father he got the last month when he lived with my dying father – and refuses to answer  my mails or letters.

This is my dream of loss.

I want to wake up

and see everything very differently –

as Jan Frazier describes in her book.

P.S: the dentist did a thorough examination, and found nothing wrong at all.

It’s all in the mind, hunh?

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. anne h.
    Feb 17, 2011 @ 16:52:27

    Yes – in the mind. Even the dentist!
    ;D

    Reply

  2. Trackback: The eye of the storm II « Ninotchka44's Blog

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Please note that nothing written here is intended as medical advice. Readers who think that they need help with a physical or psychological condition are advised to seek a qualified opinion.

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