Guides and Angels

I have had hundreds of dreams where I am on my way home. Penniless, maps lost, seemingly stuck in isolation . Quite a nightmare.

So I asked my angels and spiritual guides to show up in my dreams. And lately, I have had wonderful helpful “people” showing me the way, helping me in any way conceivable. When I wake up, I marvel at their kindness, and the feeling that they are old friends really –

-and today I know: they are my angels of course!

Happy sigh

***

And a recent poem:

The worried boy

You have wanted it to end
for a while
maybe years to be honest
and better be honest when it
comes to the end

The end shall be clear
and make an impact you say.
No mess to mop up after you
No wrinkly sweaty sheets
and God forbid, no worry-face-boy

But the ocean rises outside
the pretty-please curtains
and soon it may crash through
your Chippendale chairs
and the Ming Ming Ming

And what about
your scout diploma with acorns
moans the worried boy within .
and the criss crossed cones
and the faded red badge:

Lone Wolf Tribe

Presence

When I logged in to post right now, I read the post on January the 28th. It was a surprise – since this was exactly today’s theme too: all the crazy thoughts that yesterday drove me half insane through the night, were now lovingly accepted. NO resistance, just vast gratitude, and relaxation. The charge was gone.

Then – the chronic coughing and constriction in lungs: there was a realization  that “I cannot breathe” is a thought – and I don’t need to believe it. I breathe just fine with this limited capacity.

The breath instantly responded with deepening

Instant peace

 

 

 

A Path through the Jungle

When the mind tries to understand d things – to feel safe and have control – it cannot open to the beauty of life in all its nuances. Those of us with big trauma in our luggage has actually survived by controlling, pushing the traumas deep down- and because of all of that underground activity, Illnesses arrive, physical and psychic. All the avoiding systems, carefully architected, grow like a jungle, slinging their lianas criss – crossing through our nervous system. It saved us then, and now it produces strange fruit.

I wanted to know – how can I be of help? How can I use my jungle-knowledge to serve in this world with so much putrefying agony, where frequently the trees grow so dense that the light cannot reach us down here?

I have been given a muse – I write stories and poems that may heal and give hope. The muse is full of strength and outrageousness and laughter; it is a pleasure to allow her to use me.

In my practice as an Expressive Arts Therapist, the healing story arises in the sacred space between the student and me. One of us start with a sentence or more, the other continues when it feels right. The story grows and we follow, often fantastic and outrageous, and there use to be a place where we both have no idea where – and IF – it will find an end. It ends when we stick with it- trusting the spirit that plays with us, knowing precisely what we both need to heal and grow. When we get there, there is relief, gratitude, deep breathing. And it turns out that this particular story precisely addressed the student’s predicament at that moment in time.

Hilaryon Stories is created in this way. If you “try to understand” you will hurt. I invite you to you read by just going for the ride –  trusting that the path through it will lead to a clear and beautiful space within you ( and the jungle.) No need to try to understand – the story, as it was given me through 5 years and two years pause – has ability to heal deep collective unconscious patterns. I know that from experience. If you are one of those travelers who would like to clear a bit of jungle, your soul will thank you for it. In these Corona times with tremendous uncertainty about most anything, Hilaryon Stories is a bona fide path back Home – it teaches you to let go and trust – just like it did me.

My muse presented me with the chapters in a seemingly chaotic pattern – precisely to give the readers the experience of having lost the path in the jungle –  and then, if you hang in there, joining the characters in their experiences of loss, longing and playfulness, I trust that you will find your  own joy – the point of it all.

Here is a review:

I finished the book – and miss it dearly! I wish I could read on every night from now on!
The sense of it all still escapes my mind, yet it left me feeling uplifted and joyful, playful and very grateful!
When I did a little grounding meditation yesterday, I decided to visit my belly from the inside. ( My belly has been like seven months pregnant for years, feeling uncomfortable. I believe, I shut it down in many ways.) So I let my awareness travel down there and found only darkness and barren land. Then, suddenly it started to transform! I saw grass growing, and streams meandering – looked like Ireland. A change again and it was a kind of Hobbiton ! Flowers, little houses and JOY! Abundance everywhere! Little people dancing, singing, eating, creating! Perhaps not so dissimilar to Hilaryon…
My life force energy was moving as a strong tingling in my lower belly! I just loved it!

 

The Arborist

I just had such a radiant example of projection of another – projecting all my fear, confusion and “not finding words” on him. He is an arborist – he climbs trees and cut away what is needed, with love.
I asked for 5 different arborists to make an offer, and this guy answered first, in a very clumsy way – only a few words on my cellphone. The horrible energy I felt, I was certain I picked up from him. 1) I went directly into enemy/victim mode – BUT I was aware of it and gave thanks for it. I worked most of the first night melting my usual automatic fearful experience – knowing that it was my perception of him that created this.
Next day the fear was changed in a way – he was no longer seen as an actual threat – now it was impossible to get a clear answer from him on my phone if I could have a written contract. He omitted answering the request again and again – and then told me he was dyslectic. I immediately supported him by sharing how I recognized all the troubles he must have had – and that lightened the connection remarkably.
Then I was in agony one more night – since now the mind brooded about that he was volatile and would fall into attack or strange ways of relating.( I have had A LOT of encounters with these kind of men in my childhood and youth – so no wonder!)
I held onto acknowledging how I felt AND looking beyond it, and blessed the space around us and between us. LOTS of blessing:)
In the morning I called him again to set up an appointment for him to come and look at the huge Beech I have in my garden. Beeches are very rare in Norway! I am the proud owner ( or friend) of her beauty. But last year she has grown TREMENDOUSLY in all directions ( hmm just like me :)) and she needs some “pruning” to get more air.
His voice was quite different. Deeper, much more space inside him. Patient now. We both spoke differently. And as he before had complained about having FAR too little time to come and look, now he said he could come at once.
So he came. He was tall and beautiful. I told him what I wanted, and he listened. And said: ” I want to give her what SHE needs and wants. What is best for HER.”And I started to cry from happiness, and the Beech was VERY happy, radiantly happy.
We smiled to each other, and I told him if it had not been for the Corona, I had been hugging him crazy right now.
And oh how wonderful it feels to know that whatever I think belongs to others of the old attack/victim pattern, and judge, is part of my soul  – now to be melted with love and release in the One mind

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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