The Enchanted Room

Saturday was all magical.

I visited a dance-performance for toddlers. We entered a white silk Yurt. Seven parents with eight babies about one year old – a happy 3 year old boy – and me. We sat on the floor at the walls of the Yurt, and in our center was a white feathered bird/angel-like girl who with great presence delicately  danced and moved and wordlessly related to the children- and lots of red balloons. She moved with complete presence – delicate slow movements. The babies connected with her and each other.

The dancer played with tiny glass rods in mobiles, their delicate clanking sounds made the babies first look wide eyed and then smiling. At one point, the dancer stepped into what looked like a bird nest of Origami triangles made by many colored silk. She pulled it up – now it looked like a moving pyramid-dress – and then she started to whirl like a dervish.

A strong wind arose in our room, and suddenly all the red balloons lifted and danced

I can’t really share the beauty, poetry and magic about it – but we all felt it and connected on a deep level, and time and space disappeared in pure bliss

At no time – it lasted about 30 minutes – did any baby make a sound – there was one who repeatedly crawled out, was fetched by his mother and at the end was in rapture as the rest

The dancer also played with a big bird-puppet – man-size – became the bird, and played with the babies. At the end, she fell asleep, sitting, and we all tiptoed out not to wake her up

At the door, I asked a smiling lady who had made this wonder of a performance and who had made those amazing props and costumes. “It is me” she beamed – “Oh, are you a theater-person?” I said I was, and started to share about my bliss and gratefulness that some people made creations like this – serving presence, beauty and poetry. I found myself taking her hand and kissing it, she looked at me with tears and gave me a warm hug.

Then a tall beautiful man was standing there – it was her husband, and the composer. We shared about our love for simplicity and presence and poetry, In that moment, my late theater-husband’s spirit was present, I felt his gratitude at the performance and the work – and the husband took a step toward me and embraced me

*

This text  below –in blue – has disappeared two times while writing it. Now I write it for the third time. Thank you God for my determination.

In bed same night, I go into the pelvis again as a teacher has recommended, to find the blocks in the two lower chakras and just BE with them. I find my little Leelah there, and also a huge black snake. She points to it and her eyes are crossed in fear.

I look at it. In a big rush of release and gratitude, I tell her: “Sweetie – it is just a big black balloon!” She instantly becomes present. “Who blew that up?” I asked – she answered dreamingly, “I did – “

“Yes you did honey – and so, the only thing that powers that snake is your own breath and your belief that it has power over you”

She is completely motionless. Gradually her eyes come alive. She looks at me – “I made this up to scare myself and keep myself from doing the bad things all the men told me that I did.”

An awesome smiling Presence is around us. I ask her if she would like to let the air out of that balloon – to allow the fear-image to just … deflate?

She finds something sharp and sticks it into the very tip of the snake. She is not strong enough. I find a sledge and hammer the sharp thing into the rubber – and whhoossh, the punctured snake is catapulted in the air, doing the spastic dance we all know that balloons make when we pull their plug.

It sinks to the ground – a pitiful black rubber skin.

And now we discover the plug – it was there, all the time.

She looks at me right in the eyes now. ” I decided this , Mum. I don’t want to be scared any longer.”

I feel the deep release in my body. Fear has been punctured, seen to be self made.

I see Jesus taking her on his lap, putting his arms around her, and I go to sleep. For the first time in 25 years I have a good night’s sleep: I meet my father in our shared Christed Self, all stories have fallen away – punctured. I notice that next to our house there is a large enclosed area: a beautiful church is there. Its energy reminds me of Corfe Castle in Dorset

*

Before I fall into deep restful sleep, it dawns on me that that white Yurt is such a great image and symbol of a healed root-chakra: the parents and the babies, held and nurtured, bathing in the safety of the white yurt, with playful red balloons and a birdlike messenger from Heaven

 

Sunday  October 12

The Drowning

Sunday, in the morning, I dosed off, and when I awoke, the old agony was there. As usual. I heard “get up” and I would not listen: I was utterly convinced that only sleep could make it better. I was wrong

Sitting with the little Child in the morning, again going into my pelvis and the two lower chakras, I saw an image of a child bursting up from deep down in the sea, gasping for air – oh my God, the agonized feeling in the morning is just Child’s constant companion – “I am drowning – I am going under – and nobody cares.”

I talk to her – reminding her that I am with her in this. After a while, a feeling of death arises – a place where nothing moves or lives, desolated, isolated . At first, I sense irritation – and then, seeped in Grace, it is clear that this is the outskirts of Loneliness – the deepest feeling in the specter of separation.

I feel a surge of release and gratefulness: we have found the outskirts of it, now is the time to dive in.

And we dive.

It is intensely visceral. First the nothingness – the stifled never -voiced cries for help – the hopelessness – the toxic ice needles throughout the body – the fear of being suffocated by violent men’s too big penises – the girl realizes that she does not die, since she is aware of it all – she is what can not die – at this point everything flows easy, and no more dissociation.She hears:

What do you want?

I don’t want this!

SAY IT AGAIN

And there is her voice and her will -!

I – adult Leelah – sense it with all my body: this is my will and I mean it.

Now comes the hatred and rage, like a volcano from her: “I want to shove this penis down God’s throat so he experiences what he wanted me to experience.” Her language is crystal clear, her hatred and violence as well – as well as the details. The venom pours out, all the thoughts and images are just experienced and allowed = forgiven – and suddenly we sense that there is  radiant clear light around us

Like awakening from a nightmare.

I knew about this hatred and fear of God intellectually – the Course really drives that in  – but this was experience. Now I test-drove my new racing car!

She tells me that she needs to rest now, and Jesus sits down with her and they are playing a game with glass pearls.

Thank you Holy Spirit for the clear demonstration that the hatred and violence comes from one false thought in the mind: that God is a cruel God who sees us as sinful and guilty and subjects his children to unnameable cruelness and punishment.

The victim and perpetrator are forever two sides of the same coin: the belief in separation – and separation is happening each moment I believe that I am anything else than the Light and Love He has created me to be.

This Light of Awareness is Who I Am

 

2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Mona Gustafson Affinito
    Oct 13, 2014 @ 17:17:57

    Oh Leelah, This is soul poetry. You are more than a “theater person.” You are an artist in all senses.

    Reply

  2. leelotchka44
    Oct 13, 2014 @ 19:01:52

    Thank you!

    Reply

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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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