Father and son

I sensed his energy already before he dumped down in the bus seat beside me. Everything stood still inside me – huge fear- the energy that he brought, and acted out from, was all “Fuckeat” – energy – an archetype of violence, abuse and dominance that is described in my book “When fear Comes Home with Love.”

I froze – and then remembered that I am here to BE Love – therefore, him sitting down was an opportunity for me to BE with the energy and to BE the space of Love where it could be witnessed.

Judgment flared up like a volcano when he slapped his baby son on his lap hard – twice – on its little hands. This baby was obviously used to it – it did not cry, just whimpered, and got a strong expression of worry.

I recognized that feeling inside my mind: “I have done something wrong and am punished – and for me, there is no recognition of why.”

I felt sick now, but still blessed the father silently in his true nature, again and again.

I was shown a bloodline of fathers like him – in this case, Moslem fathers who think their boy-babies have to be taught by pain and fear when their expression is not up to the standard for what is correct male behavior.

I saw his wife sitting there, across the isle – with another little boy beside her. He was looking down as the father hit his baby, and was smiling a stiff smile.

The wife looked like she was 19-20. Her eyes, watching her husband, were devoid of any life and presence – I recognized that energy/memory inside myself too and forgave it. She had taken refuge in that space where “this does not happen. I can do nothing about it that would not make it worse.”

As I felt sicker and sicker, drawn longer into merging with the Fuckeat-archetype, I heard a suggestion inside: “Holy Son of God, give me your blessing.”

Yes – there it was: they were playing out for me something in MY mind that had not yet been fully forgiven- and it was in my mind that I now forgave myself for choosing to see the Son of God in a violent manner. I blessed him again – and again – and there came a soft peace, the father rose from his seat and sat down elsewhere – I saw him relating to two other children.

His wife was looking at him now – they were quietly talking – and she was completely present, unfearful, and love poured out of her eyes to her husband

The Fuckeat structure in my mind had opened itself to yet another layer of healing – and all because I was truly willing to SEE beyond brutality to his true Self.

When they left the bus some minutes later, I saw two other children – at least 8-10 years old – they were all smiling, and I saw his father – pride in them

Sharing this with you had also started yet another release of Fuckeat-energies

Thank God

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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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