Halloween:ghost and small devil visiting…

The night was filled with scared expectations of how to respond to children/youth wanting treats. The mind went bananas and made the scary thoughts real – what should I do to protect myself from these expected fears and attacks?

Then I had a session with Kit. Oh beauty,oh truth, oh smiles. Without me having shared anything about my fear, she started sharing how she loved the Halloween – death as a costume for play, playing with the thought of death as threatening, while all it is is a difference in perception, a falling away of one form of life into another “invisible one”.  She helped me see that I can see the scary costumes as the ego’s fear of dying.She talked about the warmth of the pumpkin color – the mother-like quality of its belly being lit from inside by a candle – the quality of autumn, the dead crackling leaves, a putting behind, a resting -an opportunity for the slow pleasures: reading. Drinking tea.

I recognized that she was showing me the healthy part of my mind – it was available for my choosing it. And I did.

So – for the first time I went and bought “treats” – jellybeans, mandarins, apples. I made 3 little bags.

Then I heard shrill shrieks and my heart leaped. I opened the window and leaned out to show them they were welcome – it was  young mother with a little girl and a boy. The girl had a plain white sheet as ghost-costume. They laughed and enjoyed themselves. The mother pointed to me and the little girl ghost came running up to me  – and the entrance light* went out.  I heard myself saying ” Oh! You killed the light!” and knew in that moment that no,  a fear in my mind had turned the light off. The little girl danced and laughed from joy and thanked me a thousand times, her mother thanked me too.

Then the little boy devil came all the way to me window. The light went on.:) He was all dressed in shiny black lacquer, with horns – very elaborate costume. Something inside of me relaxed – it had believed in the reality of ghosts for a moment, but this little devil – no.

He just stood there and stared at me for a long time, without saying anything.

“What about me?” he said – thinking I had no treats for him – but I did, and gave it to him.Again the mother and girl ghost called their loud “thank you so very very much!”

I think I thanked myself for giving up the old pattern of expecting attack  – and also truly seeing the innocence and gratefulness behind the ghostly appearance.

the entrance light*

Some of this blog’s readers may remember several posts where the entrance light played an important role in allowing me to find the light inside when fear was present – and the lamp always mirrored that decision. For those who might want to check out these teachings, just write “Entrance light” in the search field.

 

Blue is playing

Blue – my name for Holy Spirit – is enjoying Itself,playing with Nichola now.

This morning I got this mail from her:(everything printed here from Nic is with her permission)

The first person I saw at the beach today was a woman with long dreadlocks(snakes?) standing in the water. A swimmer was telling her that the water
was full of jellyfish – and it was, for the first time this summer – small ones almostcompletely transparent…

My answer:

oh that is precious, Nic!  How absolutely adorable funny hilarious. We really  need it spelled it out to us –

ah –

just like when you get the 13 empty mails –

hm

I have already forgotten what that was about – do you remember?

Nic:

It was nine empty emails after the empty tomb – also I thought later that there
are 9 children in my family – so one empty tomb for each hehe

*

I had a very stressful dream about a young boy demon who harassed me and my friends in obnoxious way. At the end of the dream I decided not to pay attention any longer, and he started to splash huge amounts of  pinkish water on me. I iggnooorrred him

At last he stopped,looking sad. I went over to him and explained that we all hated what he did, and that we would not play with him unless he behaved. Then he surprised me he said “Do you forgive me?”

And automatically I said yes, and he was gone

*

Now this is a very unusual behavior from the dubies – my nickname of them.Don’t want to strengthen that label anymore! I sat with that for a while after waking up, and suddenly remembered that I once made a drawing of a dubie who had a little girl inside – somebody who believed she was a dubie. I talked a lot with that little girl, and learned that she of course was a projection of everything this little Leelah had to repress and deny when she was small, to stay sane and survive. I truly learned how the dubies were made – and explored it for years in my therapy/healing practice. You will find these investigations and healings in my book “When Fear Comes Home to Love”

Now – at this age, and 22 years after I learned about how the dubies are made – it is truly clear that this “dubie” was a part of “me.” I used the sacred will God shared with me to create him  – and so he was experienced as real.

I want to remember this when/if they return – truly remember – I can welcome them Home through the “window” in the Heart, into the formlessness they came from, and allow a wave of blessings to pour forth from that formless Presence into the world of form and thoughts.

And there is nothing to forgive – nothing serious and bad happened in reality – only in the dream that seems so real

if “he” returns, I will remember that he is a child of mine that I have judged so deeply as to dubying it, and take him back into the Heart.

And tell him that all that happened, happened in a dream and we are OK now:)

*

I am including a favorite Flashmob: Carmina Burana. I marvel at how wonderful refreshing   it is to see a woman in straw hat play the violin, and cleaners doing ballet – they are all taken out of their roles, costumed in very unconventional ways – how liberating: usual labels of singers and orchestra are screwed up, and I listen as the first time

The Medusa

Today we have our 4th sharing on Skype, with the intention of lifting in to the light our common false perceptions of God as an angry punishing father.

This is Nichola’s rapport:

The day started with a swim in the ocean and so maybe it’s no surprise that I was feeling light and happy when Leelah and I had the Skype session. When I looked further the feeling was like a golden light a couple of centimeters from my face – shining gold with rays going out like hair or like the rays of the sun. A big deep feeling of joy came up from my belly and the golden light became a mask, ancient made of some kind of metal. The energy traveled down my arms and my fingers were alive with energy so that I saw that they were made of small wriggling snakes.

I had a feeling of rising from the sea – standing on a rock and the image of the Medusa with her hair made of snakes standing  the rock in the middle of the ocean.

 Leelah suggested we look at Medusa –  the myth of the Greek goddess who turns people into stone and she asked me if I had been (or if I had turned myself?) into stone. I said yes. In fact the stone cold boy in a story that I wrote is me, I recognised that when I was writing it, and today I remember that when my father was speaking in his familiar humiliating way I would purposefully harden my body and mind so that the hate from my father couldn’t get in.  

I remember giving my bother a painting of the Medusa when he was about fifteen. Leelah asks if he was also turned to stone and I remember that yes he was, more than me I think.

After that we looked at the Medusa jelly fish on You Tube. Leelah asks me why I think it is called Medusa and I think it is because of its sting, and also maybe because of its tentacle that look like hair. The fish is transparent, very primitive and beautiful.

As we watch it gives birth to several tiny jellyfish. Beautiful. Around this time I am struck with how much the tentacles of the fish remind me of synapses, the nerve endings that are sometimes damaged in MS and which I have been trying to visualise growing back in my own body.

I am also struck with the seemingly rambling way that we have meandered through this session, guided by Leelah’s instincts and I am very much surprised and almost enchanted.

 Leelah suggest that the way the medusas are born from the jellyfish – just “plop” out very easily, is something that I can use to think of the way my own synapses can easily be regenerated.

 Then I look to the side of the screen and see that there are a number of YouTube videos in a column going down the page and oddly, amongst them there is a five or so minute lecture by David Hoffmeister called the death of the Ego –  there amongst all these jellyfish. I can’t believe it. I tell Leelah but it does not appear on her page, just mine. As it turns out we are using different browsers  but strangely I have returned to that page this morning and David Hoffmeister has disappeared and there are only jelly fish there.  (Right now I am wondering about that – it feels like a notice to pay attention to things when they appear.)

We watch the video together and Leelah asks me at the end if there was anything there for me, as it had only appeared on my browser . I say, yes – the very last sentence. Which is stop looking for fulfillment outside yourself. That seems a very strong thing for me to look at, as I feel I have identified as a searcher or hunter who does not find. Like I am constantly trying to get something from the world that I can’t.  So this is a big thing for me to explore – that I am just looking outside for what I think I want, instead of inside.

*

I mention for Nic how the very essence of the ego thought system is “look, and do not find.”

I find this image very symbolic for deep transformation – from snakes to rays of light:

shining gold with rays going out like hair or like the rays of the sun.

 

I too have  stone – symbols:

Petrified

My mother has become stone

I am pummeling her chest with my fists

Come out! Come out!

My fists are made of ice,

My tears are burning

Come out!

And

Whack

My father hits my bottom hard and unexpected

Warm pee flows down my legs

“Go to your room!”

But my mother

Where is my mother?

 

 

 

Quan Yin

Last night was one of the darkest I have had. I practiced what i found out yesterday, and the attacks became vicious. What was great was that while they were happening, there was no fear in me. But much identification with being a victim of all of that. And feeling like 500 years in the morning.

The last week i have been thinking a lot about Quan Yin – the Chinese Buddha of compassion. Always felt close to me, this one. I remember Stephen Levine talked about Quan Yin’s life story in one of the Levine’s wonderful videos, and the last week I felt a deep desire burn in me to find that story.

Today  – in the mail – was Stephen’s last book: Becoming Quan Yin – the evolution of compassion.

Sent from his sweet self to me, with his greeting: “Treasure yourself.”

Suddenly the attacks are seen in a different light. Not any longer something that I have to push away or defend from – “it shouldn’t have been here” – just something to forgive, extend love into. Not to “improve it and heal it” – to BE the Love to extends Itself.

I am half through the book. I have cried almost all the time

I am blessed

*

Dear reader of this blog: Stephen and Ondrea Levine are still alive, still teaching. One video a month is ridiculous 10 dollars. Please don’t miss the possibility to follow two of this worlds greatest teachers while they are still in their bodies.

http://www.amazon.com/Becoming-Kuan-Yin-Evolution-Compassion/dp/1578635551

http://levinetalks.com/

Loneliness and not knowing what to say

Kit is sharing her way of being with her almost 3 year old son – who is in the period of defiance. As she speaks, and pays attention of how this theme feels in the body, she becomes quiet, and a word comes to me: Loneliness. Kit shares a time when a seer told her that there was much loneliness in her family – both in her parents and herself. She remembers being in a small motorboat with her parents as a 10 year old girl, and being overwhelmed by the feeling of loneliness, and at the same time her throat felt like after drinking milk – phlegm was coming up.

I am aware of the loneliness of the taboo of sharing/talking about feelings – and that this is the very sickness I have felt many mornings now – for some months – this is my own loneliness in the morning, when so much is processed in the night – the loneliness of not connecting to oneself. One feels locked inside

This is the theme that is being played out between Kit and I now – we realize that it is not “our” personal loneliness, but THE loneliness. It is the feeling of having our reactions “locked inside” – that is lonely!

Writing this down, the sickness is strong, and I do not need to be personally obsessed about it: just a general reaction in the human nervous system.

“ That feeling may be what Eddie is experiencing when he can’t get his will” – says Kit.

“ And maybe that again could just be the old pattern you took as yours, there in the boat, and now he picks it up and acts out the helplessness and frustration ?”

“It’s like “original sin.” We identify with whatever is transferred from one family member to another, and then we perceive each other as the separated single atom we are not: When we do that, we are not aware that what happens, happens in the field between us.”

Outside my window, the sky is overclouded – except for two bright spots where the light is shining through. It really looks like there are two separate spots – but that is clearly an illusion. The cloud-material just makes it look like that.

“ Eddie thinks he is an atom – and that I am too – that really makes it lonely – the illusion of “lonely” becomes so strong.”

Just like the overclouded sky looks so convincing and makes us overlook our shining shared eternal Presence behind the clouds. We – humans – believe in the appearance of separation.

Kit shares that just before the bus came, and Eddie had howled the whole way, and she had many times embraced him and carried him, he said: “I am sorry, mommy.”

And she told him she was sorry for having been such an angry and strict mom

*

I recognize how lonely it feels to have lost contact with myself – ourselves – on all those places where the old taboo of sharing existed. I don’t need to know psychological details and fix them – I just need to want that connection. -Saying these words brings up a wave of strong nausea. Kit shares noticing a white piece of plastic looking like a human figure who looks like it is throwing up. I notice the metaphor:  the part that wants to throw up is not real, not a “Leelah” – it is a made-up part –

*

I am mentioning a whole life of believing in “evil spirits” – and therefor having experiences with them that seem real -and that I lately have believed that they are not “stronger”: they can’t be, they are just my/collective projections.

Kit tells me that she believes me when I say that. That means it must be true: she heard me as trustworthy. Even though I don’t seem to believe fully in it yet, my words still conveyed the truth.

And now comes a holy moment of great importance to me: it is Kits time to share.

She shares that right now she does not know what she will share – and realizes that she does not need to know.The value of waiting –  give what needs to emerge T I M E  – trusting it. “It is not I that shall create something – that is the illusion –  it just IS created. It is here. We are being dethroned – the “doer” is undone, and  creation happens. The belief that “I” have to do something creative – as a therapist, for example – is tragic- when all I have to do is trust and wait for what comes up by itself. If I believe in this role – that I have to do something, and do not know what – then I become a failure. What an incredibly unnecessary pain…the belief that I could add or subtract something from what is already here – ah, there is a guilt playing in here.

I, Leelah, am starting to see how valuable trust is in the creative process.

“I want to be an Iconoclast!” says Kit. Me too. Let’s shop those icons – or false idols – down.

“I thought that I needed to know what to say. That’s just not true. The “I” cannot know what to do: the “I” is a thought, and thoughts do not think.

 

 

Inner and outer landscapes

This night the cramps were unbelievable – and what helped was strongly denying the truth of the thought “there CAN be darkness that  can hurt me”. The thought was recognized as false, and the cramps abated gradually.
This morning they were back, and I sat down with them. An insight came: the origin of this came from the womb. I “saw” the fetus in the womb where there were strong tensions and subconscious intense fear from the mother – I “saw” the baby/”me” screaming  a lot  -and my father’s intense anger at these signs of needs and pain. I forgave myself for dreaming this, i forgave the father and the mother and whatever baggage they carried with them that manifested as tremendous defense against expressions of pain and need – and the impressions they had got which they now transferred and projected on the new baby  – maybe the first “law” I accepted as true:

“There is something WRONG WITH being in pain. One should be painfree and needfree = perfect.”

I forgave the beliefs and asked H.S to come into my mind and heal what I have made. I also sat with that”repressed” baby, blessed it and experienced it crying in relief. Tensions abated.

I realize that there is so much inside my mind that simply is terrified to relax – because that would mean that it would be open to to these terrible tensions that have been repressed. So I decide that when these old tensions/cramps come up in this NOW, I will deny that their psychological origin/cause is real – but I WILL acknowledge that as long as it seems to be present, my forgiveness will both acknowledge that I have made this, and I am willing to be wrong about it – and also accept as much as possible the cramps themselves – realizing that this is coming up to be released, it is on its way “out” so to say.

And “The origin comes from the womb” may of course be read as ” the origin of these pains comes from believing the Tiny Mad Idea of believing in the possibility of separation from Source.

And it needs presence – and patience with my self.

This is the way that seems the most loving.

*

And today’s fun: I am following a great blog – Living Europe  and suddenly saw how their descriptions of these hidden/unknown landscapes are exact metaphors of the explorations we do of our inner world and its landscapes:

There are some places which need to be visited discreetly, on tiptoe, and there are some communities who have always struggled to jealously safeguard their identity, especially when it’s the result of centuries of unique cultural merging. These are not sites every tourist can reach. But, if you are passionate travelers who are moved by curiosity and respect for diversity, this tiny village may be the perfect next landmark in your journey.

Giving and receiving is the same

New guest-post from Nichola today. I had the idea to speak less and just meet as two friends and common explorers of whatever blocks our clear connection and access to Love.  I used a timer to give us equal amount of time to share what is alive within us, and how it feels in the body. More equality.

And – Nic is not a Course student – still, in our shared time she comes up with insights that are as taken right out of the Course. What a great gift that is to me – to see Course teachings being affirmed by a non-Course Student.

Nic:

It is a warm spring evening a wind is picking up and the clouds are promising heavy rain. I am feeling a refreshing lightness and ease which is the opposite of how I was feeling at the beginning of the last two Skype sessions I had with Leelah.

She ask me to say how it feels.

I feel that I am slightly outside of my body by a few centimetres at the front of my face . Then in my belly is a deep relaxed feeling and it wants to chuckle like a deep laughing Buddha and the thought is that everything is as it should be. It is immensely peaceful and joyous. I notice that I am sitting with my eyes closed and holding out each hand as if each had is balancing a large ball  – Leelah asks me what do the hands want to do – I say they want to give.

The hands are giving golden light. I want to give it to Leelah but also to everyone. Now there is a temple and I am aware of all the elements stone, wood metal air earth fire and water and I feel them all together in synergy, almost make a sound together, breather together. Ahhh. Behind the temple there is a forest and I see a beautiful deer there that turns and look at me momentarily.

My hands are still stretched out and the thought comes that giving is the same as receiving – it is the same thing – it is conducting energy, which cannot be owned anyway. I feel immense light and energy coming of my body and my hands and Leelah asks me what it is and I say “my power”.

I feel that Leelah and I shared the immense peace that was flowing this evening.

 When it is my turn, I see a brown hare in my heart, and my ego sourly mumbles that it should be white. I share with Nic my poor spiritualized ego,  and how pissed it is now of just coming up with a brown hare while Nic is displaying a Buddha!

Nic asks: “Could the brown hare be you?”

First there is biting anger – and as soon as I know I am not those thoughts and that anger, I know there are no distinctions in reality.  No, it is not “me” – it comes TO me to show me what I have excluded from my Love.

If i am not able to love that brown hare just as much as the Buddha, I am the one who suffers. So I hug the little silky soft brown adorable hare. It is perfect

Later Leelah asks me some questions about the MS:

What does the very powerful BuddhaSelf think about the MS?

I tell her that it doesn’t believe in it at all.

What kind of information could the MS be giving me?

I see an Egyptian mummy but I don’t know why.

I offer the symbol of the mummy as a preservation of the soul within the body – in other words, a strong belief in the body as necessary and our true identity. I ask her to look up BA and KA in Egyptian Mythology –  to help find out what this symbol of preservation offers her.

At the end of the session I am still sitting with my hands outstretched feeling the light and energy streaming from my arms and hands.


3 time: CORRECT LINK to Magic Journey

1 Follow me

For the third time I have attached a link here to the magic journey. I failed  before to click the correct box for having the photos publicly shown There is also a opportunity for me to write this intro to the photo-journey:a dear friend told me that at first she found some of the photos chaotic and destructive. I need to talk about that here:

The first sign for me that I was entering a guided “magical” journey and exploration, was my own shadow, waving for me – and when i noticed it and took a photo of it, I knew something was brewing – and then i turned and saw that i was standing in front of a gate into the wood – a potent symbol if it ever was one.’The first symbols and photos brought me in touch with mother nature and a wonderful grounded feelings. The rays of light that was seen through th camera felt mysterious and awe inspiring, the wood transformed itself.

Then I was standing in front of the tagged concrete wall. I went closer, and saw “jeg elsker karoline” in the middle – “I love Karoline.”

It was then that I saw all the police tape circling a big area – and wanted to see what that was about.

My first impression was destruction and chaos too – but something inside insisted on seeing everything here as with Christ’s perception = Love. I took a lot of photos as the Love grew, and the fun thing they day after was finding good titles to the works of “Pie” – the main artist.

For me, coming in to that closed.off-area with police-tape, was to enter a story of somebody who bubbled with creativity and mounted their work on trees. The signs of trying to rise structures and build bridges touched me deeply, and for me it was  feelings laid bare – like cries for help, and also anger for not having any outlet for this creativity elsewhere. me – but with nakedness, straightness, wildness, punk if you will 🙂

The Madonna

New guest post from Nichola

I have corrected the “god” to God:  the God we give our stuff to needs to be all powerful and all loving, and not “a” god at all 🙂

This will be a little back to front. I had a session with Leelah on Friday in which I was very surprised to see the Madonna emerge, floating above the sea. I have some very old and deep scorn for the image of the Madonna. I think it has to do with some scary nuns and my mother. I had a Madonna figurine, though, I remember, by my bedside when I was younger and I loved it. The image became tainted for me, that is all. Anyway when I came to write about that session all I could see were the nuns and an old school desk and I was angry and felt that I must refuse to write the blog about it. Until now, some days later when the anger towards the nuns, or whatever it was, is dropped.

Leelah was telling me: Look out for the thought “you should feel different than you feel,”because I was feeling bad that my MS symptoms were returning. They had been retreating for a couple of weeks before.

The bad feeling felt like a rock in the middle of my stomach, dragging me down. When I allowed it that is when the Madonna emerged.

Leelah says: What does she want to tell you? and I tell Leelah that she says: You can be like a child in your innocence – you don’t have to take care of anything – I will take care of it.

Leelah sounds happy: Give all the shit to Mary… she says

Leelah says something next that I have been using all week: What I am feeling is sickness and pain that is leaving–I can just be with what is leaving while it is leaving…..

…And sometimes I can’t just do it….and ask for help

This has helped me every time I feel these things since then, and another thing she says: If it is not loving, it is not the Holy Spirit. Which has been useful when I hear myself with some criticism.

I am worried about taking this new diagnosis of MS on as a new identity

Leelah advises me to talk to Maria: I believe that I am MS and I give this belief to you…I am willing to be wrong about it….and I allow you to choose God for me now  in this situation

It feels wonderful to have this sentence.

Sickness is a way of the ego separating from god and attacking itself – belief in separation means that I believe God and love are outside, and me  separated and  then I can attack myself .

Leelah’s part I didn’t write at the time and now it has been some days – but I remember that she is cold and covers herself in a red shawl that feels better. She has anger – is banging her fists on the table tired of carrying all the shit for men – she feels it in her arms

I feel a bit dazed as we are closing and feel it is like a golden light, so we finish by sitting in a golden light and I am smiling and smiling

Magical journey

Here is the link to the journey into the abandoned village with mysterious relics in the wood 🙂

I have used the day to find the correct succession of the images, and find good titles

the titles are on the left side of the images, down below. To follow the trail, just click on the right arrow

Comments are very welcome 🙂

http://www.flickr.com/photos/organize/?start_tab=one_set72157636300292715

Image

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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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