Shadow dance

In my window there hangs an ornament: a circle of silvery metal, inside the circle a Unicorn and a sun with rays – all made of metal. Inside the sun is a clear crystal prism which gathers the light and separates them into the specter of the rainbow. Early in the morning, my living room is filled with dancing rainbows.

Now, I sit in the sofa with the blue book, and look at the dance of shadows on the table before me. Outside my window is a big tree, and its shadow-leaves are creating ever-changing patterns on the table-surface.

There is my ornament too, as shadow-image – and the sun is now an opaque blob, and the rays coming out from it makes the sun look like a spider.I  fear spiders…

This may be a metaphor of the Son of God’s perception, looking with the ego: God turns into a spider who eats her children. Matter turns transparency into dense forms – and as I observe it, I sense how even this image – which I KNOW is illusion – still seems to have power over my nervous system and making me cringe.

The image itself is meaningless – but golly, have  I given it meaning! And it is these stories about it, that I believe in, that makes me cringe.

As the sun moves, the shadow of the big trunk of the tree moves onto the table-surface – and the spider is covered. So is most of the sunlit surface. The leaves still dance, and the sun-filled spots changes. I discover that I notice that the sun is there, even when the shadows flicker over it.

The sun is there all the time – it is the only permanent factor. Well, you could argue that it disappear when a cloud floats in front of it – but the only thing that has happened is that I have allowed myself to focus on the shadow.

No wonder that I am fooled by appearances: bodies, landscapes, words.

We are not required to see truth instead illusions in the world – but we can WANT it, be willing to remember that what we are seeing are false perceptions, and that we have given it all the meaning it has for us, based on concepts made through our lives. We uphold the image with our collective belief in it: without our belief, the Universe disappears.

I want to remember to look behind the appearances of shadow-dance and remember our shining eternal Home.


Pearls in the poop

The most frequent trap in my practice is to resist feeling hate, anger, fear – that means, judging those feelings as bad, or telling myself that if I feel hatred that means that I am a bad person, really not worthy to live. I see that much of my intense fear of these feelings comes from believing that I can turn into one of those “monsters” I experienced as a child – so each time I am resisting one of those feelings, automatic defenses come up like a fountain,

In the shower-session today 🙂 I saw – again – that all of those feelings belong to the story I have been playing out this incarnation. More and more bits and pieces of it comes effortless to the surface, as something of a nightmare that dissolves in the clear light of the day. “There I go again” Blue reminds me to say – and smiles.

A little later, I was sitting in the living room. about to read “Of course!” Reflections on A Course in Miracles By Ian Patrick, when I noticed some hairs on my red woolen shawl. Instant disgust. I watched it: this is disgusting, obnoxious, I am about to vomit, my hair fall out, I am old, decrepit, not worthy – and on and on it went, like an avalanche.

“Hating anything about yourself.” said Blue, “really means that you believe these thoughts about you. Just notice it – be willing to be wrong about it 🙂 – and ask me to correct your perception.”

The thoughts evaporated – just as the old stories – and as I just sat with the heavy energy and allowed myself to let it be, I saw the Holy Son of God putting on several disgusting costumes, looking in the mirror and believing the ugly images he saw. While in reality, he could just realized that under all those layers of ugly, he remained just as God created him.

I smiled as I sensed the Love under all that hate – unchangeable Love. And I opened Ian’s book and read: “Pearls in the Poop” – describing the exact process I already had been through.

Waking up in the shower

In the shower, I sense chaos subsiding, energies align with clarity.I sense the aura purring like a cat who is stroked. I am aware of some very clear thoughts:

The suffering child/me – and my whole childhood –  is a projection. The memory of the violated suffering little child me is in this moment seen as a construct of ego. I have told myself that I must never betray her, as she was betrayed – meaning I must keep “her” close so I can be there for her if she falls into panic or psychoses. Now I SEE that if I withdraw my investment in the belief that she is ME and that it happened in REALITY, the whole story crumbles and evaporates. There simply IS no “me” to save.

What has given her reality – brought that story into flesh and emotions and vulnerability and victim-hood and me and other, is ONLY  the Holy Son of God’s  choice for the possibility of separation. That choice is taken with the free will that God gave His Son – and so it is manifested.

As the water strokes the aura, I know in gratitude and release that in Truth, there is no suffering, no separation, no victims and predators – there is a false belief in guilt and sin projected into the separated fragments of the One Son. I am not leaving “her” – betraying her – there is no HER other than in my constructed story of separation. I can turn of the projector – I am willing to see clearly.


Writing the last sentence, this poem by Thich Nhat Hanh comes to mind.

Please Call Me by My True Names

I have a poem for you. This poem is about three of us.
The first is a twelve-year-old girl, one of the boat
people crossing the Gulf of Siam. She was raped by a
sea pirate, and after that she threw herself into the
sea. The second person is the sea pirate, who was born
in a remote village in Thailand. And the third person
is me. I was very angry, of course. But I could not take
sides against the sea pirate. If I could have, it would
have been easier, but I couldn’t. I realized that if I
had been born in his village and had lived a similar life
– economic, educational, and so on – it is likely that I
would now be that sea pirate. So it is not easy to take
sides. Out of suffering, I wrote this poem. It is called
“Please Call Me by My True Names,” because I have many names,
and when you call me by any of them, I have to say, “Yes.”

Don’t say that I will depart tomorrow —
even today I am still arriving.

Look deeply: every second I am arriving
to be a bud on a Spring branch,
to be a tiny bird, with still-fragile wings,
learning to sing in my new nest,
to be a caterpillar in the heart of a flower,
to be a jewel hiding itself in a stone.

I still arrive, in order to laugh and to cry,
to fear and to hope.

The rhythm of my heart is the birth and death
of all that is alive.

I am the mayfly metamorphosing
on the surface of the river.
And I am the bird
that swoops down to swallow the mayfly.

I am the frog swimming happily
in the clear water of a pond.
And I am the grass-snake
that silently feeds itself on the frog.

I am the child in Uganda, all skin and bones,
my legs as thin as bamboo sticks.
And I am the arms merchant,
selling deadly weapons to Uganda.

I am the twelve-year-old girl,
refugee on a small boat,
who throws herself into the ocean
after being raped by a sea pirate.
And I am the pirate,
my heart not yet capable
of seeing and loving.

I am a member of the politburo,
with plenty of power in my hands.
And I am the man who has to pay
his “debt of blood” to my people
dying slowly in a forced-labor camp.

My joy is like Spring, so warm
it makes flowers bloom all over the Earth.
My pain is like a river of tears,
so vast it fills the four oceans.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can hear all my cries and my laughter at once,
so I can see that my joy and pain are one.

Please call me by my true names,
so I can wake up,
and so the door of my heart
can be left open,
the door of compassion.

Expanding ripples of Love

How amazingly liberating to see how I can use the Course-principles for non-Course students.

I have noticed how my student/patient easily and gratefully falls into practicing being wrong, and being willing to not know what to do or think, and being willing to see the situation differently and observed her lighten up and becoming peaceful when she find this willingness. What a wonder to see somebody so willing to learn to choose love over fear, and the wondrous effects it has on her psyche and body.

A little more than one hour was used today to observe the healing process in the body-mind when she let go of ego concepts – and her observation of what that did to her feelings of peace and freedom of tensions.  As she willingly allowed things to be as they were, because she did not have  “to do” something with anything, a remarkable field of Love permeated the room. And I saw a clear image of Self as a clear and silent pond: a stone was dropped in it, and the ripples expanded and expanded and expanded.

We are these ever-expanding waves of love, expanding. I realized how helpful this image is for me – it surpasses the intellect, which is where ego easily traps me. When I can see myself as this Love- ripples-expansion as a correction, that is so helpful.

And unlike our world, where all ripples eventually come to a stop, in reality there is no end to the expansion of Love-ripples.

And I KNOW that.

Thank God for my patients – my gifts

Just not interested

Skyping with Kit – the last 5 minutes of our 1-hour sharing/awareness-session. I am sharing a joyful episode at the D.U-group last week: a woman complained that the Course didn’t work for her, and I felt inspired to give some suggestions pr private mail. She mailed back and said she had experienced a miracle. That helped me recognize that the suggestion really came from Truth.

She then mailed me again, to tell me that she had had a fall-out with her best friend for 15 years. Now she had texted her friend, and all is well.

Kit shares that when she hears this, she has  a huge energy reaction in her body. As she describes it, I recognize that she is picking up what I have refused to open up to in my body. As I realize this. I can sense the echoes of the release.

Now I just sit with what is going on in the body and energy-field: a dense brown energy-field is coming from outside my head, seeping into my head/right eye and ear and out again. I acknowledge that this is just something I have programmed to obscure Truth and Love. I do not need to know where it comes from – I just say that I am willing to be wrong about it being serious ( or interesting to analyze) – and I want to experience Truth instead of this.

I see how I feed ego by taking it seriously. HOW I do this – by becoming irritated, angry or scared – does not matter one iota. The only thing that dissipates it is my choice for Truth.





Letting be is letting go

I was just reading Myron Jones’ blog. As soon as I started to read, hate welled up like a geyser. Sitting in grace, I noticed the hatred, gave it to H.S and let it be as it was – remembering that “doing something with it” is not my business.

A wave of peace moved through me.

Next paragraph: now the hate became more personified: this came from a little girl’s hate of God, who was thought to abandon her. I forgave the attachment to the little girl-story, gave it up, and the same wave of release.

How simple life is when I stop being my own fixer

About leadership

Luggage left


My late husband, my then 11 year old daughter and I were preparing to return home(are all my dreams about that??) and we had HUGE amounts of luggage. Among other very important things where out three mattresses. Lots of suitcases and rucksacks too. And all had to be carried over cliffs for about one mile before we reached the place where our car was parked. I hated it.

I awoke in the very common state of dread, angst,depression, pains and crushing sensation in the chest. At the same time, there was something that was not touched by it :even though it felt like the usual hell-experience, I was not sucked into that story in the same degree as before. I was pretty soon aware that Love was present. I found myself saying: “Holy Spirit, I forgive myself for believing that there is something terrible in my mind that can hurt me. I am wrong about this: false experience appearing real = fear.

As soon as I noticed that the crushing abated as soon as I felt confident that whatever happens to me physically can NOT remove God’s Love from my heart, has not the power to take God’s peace away. I am acutely aware this moment that what is impermanent is not real, but God is always present.

I am willing to go home without any luggage at all. And without my dream husband 🙂 For the first time there is not stress and anxiety about leaving luggage/the past behind.



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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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