The Crusher

Today I am talking about what lies in our vast unconscious mind of sabotage-patterns that we, long time forgotten, have put there, not to “outshine” others and make them jealous and angry at us, and therefore attack.
What I have done lately is to give it up to God/Universe/Love/ – and honestly admit, ” I was afraid of you, I was afraid of outshine my father and You, afraid of your punishment and vengeance (meaning all that old testament stuff/archetypal stuff/ that the Bible and religions are full off – this vengeful and wrathful God/  and I am completely willing to be wrong about my perception of it, it is partial and dual. I now gladly give this up to you -”

Then I just SIT and do nothing else than noticing what is going on in the body.

Twice I have felt this sweet sweet loving field of –  God/Life   – enveloping me, and gradually a falling away of all my wishes and expectation about how it SHOULD be – sensing and knowing in  that timeless space that all was good, and my manuscript was well taken care of – and i saw that my intense fear of not being supported financially at the same time was my doubt that God/Universe would provide for me if I did what pleased me – like writing.

And from my perspective, doubting God is doubting my Self

These insights just happened while I sat in this  space where i was willing to let go of my need to be right – and righteous 🙂 – about my fears of not being supported.

And something let go

I prayed to be alert to any synchronicities and signs that I WAS supported – and that my stories will be “out there” – AND that I will have the necessary certainty and love to respond to any feedback about the stories.

The excerpt below  is from “When fear comes home to Love” and it is exactly about this fear we all have as a deep unconscious musical theme in our life-symphony, and what happened of wondrous “impossible” happenings in my life when I made a break with it.


6.1 Turn around or die: saying no to Crusher / 1998

Halfway through my education in Expressive Therapy, I decided to take the second half of it in Switzerland – not my own country. The criterion for having my final diploma was to have a certain number of hours of practice at a Psychiatric Institution. My own patients’ sessions within a week in private practice had to be moved together in three days, so I could do my two practice-work-days at the Institution. This involved a colossal burden of work, and an insane pressure on me to “be on top and manage everything.”

Bird ( the perfection and performance-persona) couldn’t take it. After half a year with this workload I felt like death was breathing down my neck. I applied to the Swiss educational director at that time to have the sessions from my private practice included and counted as clinical work, and received a clear no: the hours would only count if they came from institutional practice.

This was the only way I could get acknowledgment for my work, and give me the necessary status as Expressive Arts therapist.

Easter came. I had booked a place on an educational seminar in Switzerland. The ticket was bought, the seminary-tuition paid. The week before the trip I became weaker and weaker. The night before going I felt fragmented and had frequent anxiety-attacks. The Crusher was whipping my brain: “This is THE ONLY WAY you can have paper certification of your education!” “Maybe it will get better when I get there?” I thought – “When push comes to shove, I have long experience in enduring.”

I rose at about 05:00. On my way to the airport in a taxi, I felt as if I was on the way to my own execution. I had the choice: To drop the education, and not have a certificate – or continue, and crush all the signs of deep alarm that my psyche and body gave me. The thought of aborting the education in Switzerland was an unbearable thought – I loved it so much, and there was Paolo and Margo, who received me and nourished my soul in ways I never before had experienced.

We approached the exit road to the Airport. “Now I have to decide!!!” said an inner voice. And the situation I had created, identifying with ego’s teaching of pressure as necessary, now manifested in a beautifully exact symbol of the inner pressure – a HUGE shadow to our left. It was the biggest trailer I ever saw. I sensed the blast from it inside the taxi, and got deadly afraid. Slowly the trailer squeezed us closer to the stonewall on our right side; we were practically down in the ditch now. The trailer drew inexorably nearer. I knew, without an inch of doubt, that here was my choice: proceed and be crushed, or return and survive – return and choose ME. I yelled to the driver: “I have to return back home!” (Yes, very symbolic). In the very same second, the trailer turned back to the highway. The taxi-driver turned to me, white as chalk, sweat dripping: “What the devil was he doing?!”

So I told him to drive me home. Unpacked the suitcases (that had to be done before I could relax) collapsed under the covers and lost control. I had chosen me – with the consequence that I had lost any hope of working as a therapist. Four years wasted – not to mention, over fifteen thousand dollars I had paid until now. I called for a doctor, who told me I was burned out.

The next fourteen days I lay flat on my back, crying. I was the smallest and most helpless in the world – but it dawned on me that I was on my side: at last I had proven to myself that I was more important than a piece of paper. I was certain that I had lost the money for the seminar and the air-tickets – thousands of dollars.

But I got everything refunded – contrary to the Institute’s usual policy. I thanked the Institute, and wrote to the leader that I could not fill the demands of the amount of practice-sessions at the Psychiatric Institution.

And then – listen to the beauty of universal law:

When I support myself, so does the universe. Soon after this the Swiss leader got ill, and another took her place. He accepted the sessions from my private clinical practice – and I received my leaving certificate. He even appointed me as a supervisor.

And by the way: all my money was returned to me, too.

In the moment I chose myself, the Crusher drew back.

Here is the turning-point in our process. Do we go on crushing ourselves (calling it duty) or do we choose LIFE?


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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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