Inner sculptures

Later yesterday I read more in my old journal in my Expressive Arts Therapy training –  29 years old – and found an exercise that used bodies/persons to sculpt inner feelings.

We were told to find an “inner sculpture” for “me.” I saw a person who knows “I am holy” and a dark being who point his tongue at that person – and a little child who sits close to them and want to be seen and held – an in front of this sits “Nirvana”.

She is present always. All is well. All is allowed.

And I saw that what that person in yesterday’s blog thought she needed, and that manifested as that “dark figure”, ridiculing the Holy – was that Boo-boo’er.

And that it all was all right – as it was

I am eternal Spirit – whole and complete and innocent. I have a bodily experience where my soul has chosen a scenario to explore – in order to learn to see through it to the shining Source at the center. Only when I have stopped judging the feelings can I see that what seems to happen happens in a dream – and that I, as Spirit, is the dreamer.

All I want is to wake up and truly KNOW myself as LOVE. As I get closer, all the old wounds open up for me to see them and see through them to the LOVE behind. In the night I could so lovingly see through the huge amount of self-hatred in  my soul – for not being perfect, for not being as “others” wanted me. And I saw that behind any dark  and violent feeling and act, there was an innocent yearning and need to be loved. Just held.

My daughter has played out all what I needed. She has been my greatest teacher. When she was small, and I was taking all my trainings and learning a lot, I remember I wanted to demonstrate EFT on her. She vehemently protested.

This night I saw why: she wanted me, not a “method.” She wanted nothing between her mother’s love and herself. She wanted to be held, and to be told that she was perfect the way she was, and that I loved her exactly as she was. And that I saw the truth in her and about her. She wanted me to express this with all of me, so she could believe this about herself.

And so I saw that the hatred we both had – to our parents and ourselves – came from innocence: we made a wrong conclusion that we were wrong, at fault, when our parents were crazy. We judged ourselves for needing comfort and love. We told ourselves that it was wrong and not possible, and that the only way out – that our parents demonstrated so perfectly – was to be hard on ourselves and trying to “better” ourselves and never complain – or need anything. Any inner need had to be met with hatred to kill it, anesthetized it.

I sat with this energy that I have judged for eons until it lightened – and asked Holy Spirit to replace my wrong-minded perception with His .

The dark boo-booer tried to intervene. I discovered that I didn’t want to be hard on myself any longer – no value in it. The silence that came was beautiful.

I recognize it is a habit, and that I need to be vigilant when “he” is there again to “save me” from hoping and open to love and being tricked and crushed. That is the old story – and I am free to choose again: each time he comes, is a new opportunity to choose LOVE instead

 

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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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