Water Station

Dream: it is night. The sky is enormous. There are new star constellations:  they are now red – like a miniature milky way. I point them out to a fellow traveler: Look! LOOK! She has nothing to say, and I instantly give her power to take my excitement away.

Instead of the myriad of train tracks, there is now water. Crowds of people stand on the platforms, the water is dark.

I have a boat! An old plastic boat, like the ones in the sixties. I maneuver it clumsily, since there seems to be no oars-still, the stream in the water takes me in the direction I want to go.

There is a strong energy of insanity in the air


Awake, I go into the Rose garden where I meet my inner children. I find an 11-year-old and also a 14-year-old and a 15-year-old. I tell them I am there for them, to listen and love and support them. They are terrified of dying and being caught in this field of insanity, where there seems to be demons everywhere. And it so happens that I, as Christ Self, hold them and witness them and they feel safe feeling all of that agony – that is possible as soon as they are being loved. Now they are not alone.

It takes some time, but we have it.

They realize that they see everybody around them through filters of terror and confusion. Gradually they realize that it is safe to look WITHOUT these filters.

The children think THEY have to change the insanity-energy – I tell them, NO – the only thing they have to do, is to ALLOW the Light to do it FOR them and THROUGH them. Willingness to surrender the “doing” is all it takes.

They recognize that their hands are bone dry, there is no moist inside.Their terror has chased all feelings and water away in their bodies. I call forth the Angel of Water, and gently she arrives and takes her place inside us, watering our bone dry places, our deserts of postulating that we are without Love. We are willing to be wrong 🙂 and how lovely it is to be wrong about the belief that we are stuck in agony-land

I see how many of the babies here are frozen within this fear too.  And smiling I witness my healing children running to them and picking them up, singing to them, humming, stroking, embracing, rocking them, singing



What I am describing here is the very essence of torture belonging to anyone who cannot share humongous pain – be it trauma of any kind, abuse,war,illness – the occasion where this goes on continuously and there is no-one who will listen or acknowledge what goes on.

In the case of abuse,the family will not under any circumstances acknowledge it, And as soon as your face shows that there is something going on with you, you are told that ” do you have to look so forlorn – you, who are SO well cared for.

So the circumstances are:

constant abuse of any kind – (could be both inside the family and outside, from others,  as in my case) – and you discover that any signs of “something wrong”  psychologically/mentally are simply not tolerated.  If you get a flu, you may get lots of sympathy – breaking an arm gets you “Oh your poor child” and ice-cream. But ANY signs of inner agony – that anything is “wrong with you” – STOP IT. NO expression at all.

The consequence is that you can never relax. You cannot rest anywhere. You cannot even let yourself know how lonely you are, how terrible all that inner pain is, since it is denied from your closest ones, and consequently by yourself too.

This is how grave splits and dissociation happen in the psyche, and we get cases of severe denial and  “multiple selves” – and this is what I describe in my book you see in the right menu – “When Fear Comes Home to Love.”

Dream this morning:

I was hiking with a group of people to a place where we were to stay and live for some days. The weather was rugged, and I saw that I had only my old (at least 40 years old) red rain jacket on.

When we arrived, I went from room to room to find a free bed (mattresses on the floor.) There were clothes on everyone –  all were taken.

The metaphor: I have no place to rest, to sleep.

Maybe you can  recognize that belief – that feeling deep inside?

I saw clearly HOW repressed my desperation was at that time – due to deep abuse and also sexual torture from several people outside the family. It lasted years. It became the normal. My dream showed me the depth of my repression – and anyone’s repression, in the cases where there simply are no healthy people who CAN notice and care for the children who are victims of this. This kind of total repression goes far back through the ancestral lines – and you who read this may be one of those people who were never HEARD and welcomed and listened to.

After this realization, the underlying lava-anger started to erupt. There were strong murderous feelings and images, I allowed them all, honoring that child  – now I received the images of her hacking people to death: “Of course you has these impulses! This was at least an expression of the anger you felt – and any of us may feel  – when any sign of suffering is simply not allow to SHOW. And I am so grateful you did NOT show them there and them – that would most certainly have been dangerous for you. I am so very sorry for what happened to you, and that led to all your beliefs about who you were ( despicable creature being all wrong, not worthy of being seen and listed to) and all the coping mechanisms that you made, that saved your sanity. But I am here now to hold you and support you and  allow you to express any feelings at all – you have a right to them.NOW you are not alone, I AM HERE with you – and that makes all the difference.”

“I hate GOD!” you wail – “I prayed that God stopped them doing what they were doing, and he did nothing! He is evil! He wants me to suffer! And that must mean that I am guilty!!” and the next thoughts, following from this – ” He is punishing me for something – ” and the next thoughts:  “this punishing may save me from Hell later.”

That last one has a deep impact, I feel. That way of thinking actually draws  opportunities for suffering to me.

My printer is now reflecting this to me: the color blue will not print. (BLUE is what I call inner spiritual guidance in this blog.) Also, the support-plate for the paper will not tilt/lean back – pointing to the fact that it is almost impossible for me to lean back and support myself and all I want to share – symbolized with the printed papers with my words on them.

I am one of those who has actively chosen to see anything that happens as metaphors. It has served me well, and the Universe plays with me here – as now, with the printer. Right now a wave of bliss and laughter wells up in me, and  Blue reminds me of all the occasions where I have discovered that God loves to play. I have included numerous of these short stories in my book – all humorous and peculiar and odd.

Here is a couple:

Blue is playing:

Lesson today in A Course in Miracles: “I am not a body. I am free.”

In the evening, I am looking at “Joan of Arcadia” on TV. Joan’s class is performing a play. Their finale-song goes: “We are not flesh and blood. We are love!”


Blue is playing:

“…someone has stolen my words

and my hopes

but my story is still here

under the layers of centuries.

I have a right to tell the story,

but who are the listeners?”

A great light and soft love surrounds me when I finished writing the above, and a Voice speaks:

Child, listen – I am your mother, Aurora – Queen of the Heart

And I know that She has listened to it all


My inner child is doubting that Aurora is real: “Please give me a sign, Blue – let me see this name within three days!”

Next day I read in the column for TV/radio: “Arcadian radio and The Arcadian Explorer’s editorial Staff continue their trip down Mississippi on the riverboat Queen Aurora.”

It just wasn’t there anymore

For the very first time – when the usual morning-agony came – ( I am talking more than 30 years here – deep depression and suicidal thoughts) – there was no resistance and no judgment. Just quiet. Guess what happened to the agony

God happened

Self happened

No control happened

Now the ego is very quiet, it stands to my left and looks up and wonders “how did i manage that? I must remember it so I can replicate it.”

Truth is, it wasn’t THERE. And truth is, I feel soft towards it too – whatever it is


For years I have had a chronic difficulty breathing. There have been strong constrictions around the heart and lungs. I have knows it has to do with earlier defense in traumatic situations, and have unraveled many layers. Two days ago I found a new one – what in shamanism we call “lost soul-part.”

In my spiritual practice, my body, house and surroundings mirrors back to me what goes on in my mind. Two days ago, my stove-fan broke down.

For me, it mirrors my lungs, and my ability to breathe and filter out the stronger smells from cooking. I knew it was a signal to yet another layer with the lungs/heart.

The same late evening, I sat down in my Healing Room to do a daily Chi Gong Kidney – exercise which has shown to be very efficient. Video below. When it came to ex.nr.seven, where we softly circle our hands around our  breast, I heard distinct tapping sounds behind me, as if somebody tapped the door/window: “let me in!” Then my body shivered and shuddered and was filled with an energy that did not feel “mine.”

I completed the exercise and prayed for insight – got that it was a “visitation:” some part of me that I had exiled wanted to reconnect. That made it easier for me: I truly want the LOVE that I am to transform all those memories and energies and “soul-parts.”

She was easy to connect to now, and I opened myself to fully be with her and acknowledge everything that she had felt – and her interpretations and conclusions about what this meant about her:

deeply unworthy of love from parents AND God. I let her know I saw and acknowledged all her hatred at self and others – “of course you felt this, it is a perfectly normal response to your situation. You have a right to feel all this now, WITH me, not alone.”

The constriction was at first so strong that I thought I may die – and then I realized that it was her constrictions that I felt, so I could be there as her  neutral loving witness. There was a big shift, the constrictions abated the more I realized that this happened for me and not to me: this was part of loving myself free from the old pattern I had seen as my safety, and that now almost choked me to death.

On x-ray one can see a mass around the heart/lungs – and doctors let me know it is not cancer or any sickness. I know the part of me had to create a lot of pain and goo and coughing there – it was like a bomb inside that said “don’t go here! Go away! We will NOT remember this terror!” So the constriction has been a life-saver, allowing me to heal memory after memory all the way up to this NOW. The exiled part is back, and presenting me with the agony, as much as she is able and willing to.

I bless the part in its true being. I forgive myself for all the judgments I placed upon this, and I embrace it. I allow it to be transmuted in Divine Light.

So…the stove-fan?

I have decided to let God take care of that. No worries: I am taken care of each step of the way

I invite you to click the two book-covers in the right menu, and check out if my two books may be for you.

Here is the video:











Scream and play

Last night, I wrote myself through a nightly terror:

The Code

When lungs are raisin-dry and dirty demons nibble at your feet,
when you can’t take a breath and cannot cry for help cause there is no-one there to meet
this agony with anything at all, you’re stumbling through the night
and stubbing toes on stones and hearing angry voices who just may be right
in their insistence that you’re not worthy of a life,
you have done something wrong and just this knife
is all you need, to put an end to it and plunge it in your heart.
Since then this pain will have to end, you think, that seems so evident and smart
if only you could find the code to tell you where you fail and sin,
then you could remedy your ways and calm the screams and din
of this old mind that never stops in finding reasons for your pain
-but as you seek for them, you know that trying to find rest will be in vain.
And trying to get out of it and feeling good again is doomed, you say!
Then Love says, now go to the heart and stay
there, child, just let it be, allow it space to breathe; that darkness is just shadow play.
Now turn toward it Sweetie, tell it, hey
old agony, old friend, what if we have some fun instead and write a pome
about it. The Muse is here to take you Home.
We may just recognize the simple truth right here to be:
The Code for healing agony is Play, you see


In the morning, I woke up from a reaction I have to something going on in the world – feeling the horrible energy from it.It feels like a global scream.

Exactly at the moment I notice this scream, I am reminded: this is just an energy in the mind that I haven’t forgiven. It’s not “mine,” it’s not  serious – it’s not a sign that I have done something wrong- it’s just this energy.


I turn toward it and say, “welcome! Welcome. Welcome” with a full heart –

and it’s just not there anymore



The loving Heart

I have great respect for the work I have done the last 26 years in this life – and the strength in the archetypes that I have written about in “When fear comes home to Love” ( you may click on book in right menu to find out more.) The most common complaint this Leelah has, is this: “Whatever I do and experience of healing and realizations obviously are not enough to remove this all-powerful energy field, manifesting as huge pains everywhere and depression. And let’s not forget hatred and hopelessness and desperation. HOPELESS.”

Still, I have trotted along – most frequently remembering to trust the process.

The – shall I call it “madness”? returned with full power this morning. I sat down with it, asked for help, and suddenly the voices of Love were all there was.

“You know what this is: it is the old Leelah-child-identity. What hurts so much is your belief that you you ARE it – still. And the only way for you to give up this belief is for you to allow her to express whatever she wants – in your voice, out loud:) and just listen. Repeat back when needed. The more you experience that you ARE the big heart that holds is all, it will be impossible for the old energy-identity to claim that it is you.

Your one and only problem is your belief that you think you ARE this agony when you feel this agony. You know this too – right?

And each time you wake up – or lay sleepless the whole night – with these agony fields – is a shining possibility to turn TO it and thus claim your divine identity as Christ.

The Christ in you (all) has already healed everything. We remind you of that, again and again: you but see what has already happened. Be aware of this when your inner girl’s agony screams out to be heard: allow the feelings to rise – and now, safely anchored in the Christ consciousness that is your birthright. All It does, is to bless – and not judge. If you hear judgments, that is the little girl too – forgive them all, remember you are listening to an old tape from human consciousness that is healed the moment you listen without judgment.”

I went downstairs and opened my journal. This sketch lay on the page I opened. It is just a blob of colors on a paper-palette – and I noticed that I had made a figure and a story of out that blog years ago.

Here is “The Loving Heart” – or angel – holding the red bleeding wound/child/ close to the one Heart that we all share.

And more than anything, this is a God-sent sign that I CAN – and CHOOSE to – trust the process. When pain and depression comes,  my job is to turn toward it and love it: knowing I AM that LOVE.



Peter disappeard

Oh the beauty of surrendering old thought systems!

Last night a saw that Peter had sent me a friend request, and all the old gloom and doom-energy raised its ugly head. Oh that feels SO bad!So I sat with the energy of it, and in bed  I asked for correction of my perception again and  saw my Self embracing him, right where he thought himself to be.

Today he has disappeared off the Forum/website completely.

That is exactly what we are told will happen when we change our response to the people who we find difficult: either they start to move towards love and share our thinking – or they disappear off the chart.

I sat in the sofa with God, telling him I am here to be helpful. The doorbell rang, the sweetest young girl with a beautiful loving smile asked me to by a Sundaypaper. I don’t like that paper, so I thanked no. Then I realized: by calling her back and telling her I loved her smile i WOULD be truly helpful – in ways I have no idea about. So I did that, and she smiled even broader, and her way of moving was lighter.

It felt amazing!

There was also a strange and surrealistic thing happening last night: when the old disaster thoughts with their accompanying energies came, I got the idea that I did not want to do what I always have done: figuring out what to do that is the right thing to do – going from wrong-mindedness to rightmindedness. That still implies some thinking and figuring out for me. So, all of a sudden, I just started to imagine the most surrealistic  ways to see the surrendering of fear. I don’t remember the details, but I started to giggle and felt a great release just being willing to  think in a different way. And what a different way: playful,surreal, NOT SERIOUS.

And a nice synchronicity happened this morning: I sensed another big gloomanddoom-habit – the one about  writing  the yearly account for my firm. It suddenly became very clear that I don’t need this agony at all. In the same second a ton of old wet snow slid from my roof with a great thunder. What a great symbol of fear falling off

The hidden sentence


My daughter and I are hanging out with a young girl, about 22 years old. So very likable. There is something that young girl refuses to look at inside herself. She complains that people use to interrupt her when she speaks. I tell her that it is something inside her that really has an irritating energy, and that whenever she touches it subconsciously and energetically, people pick it up and stops her by interrupting her. “But it is really YOU who thinks this is so irritating” I say, and there comes a light in her eyes. She tells us that this is very painful, and my daughter says: You know, I know what you are talking about – when I visited the Torture Center at the University, I…” then her boyfriend enters the room, and my daughter is interrupted and becomes quiet as a mouse.

The young girl starts to talk, and I interrupt her. And now, when typing those words, the telephone interrupted me!! (There was nobody at the other side.)

WOW – pay attention to this theme, Leelah –

I tell the girl, “Even I interrupted you now! What is the sentence you were going to say right now when I interrupted you?”

Suddenly we see the girl inside a large cage. The door is open. She is happy, because she has now received the necessary impulse to start unravel this old story where something has been hidden for so long. And the cage – (door open, she CAN leave) is a safe place to be. She has lived there for so long…

“You can unravel it outside the cage to, sweetie” I tell her – I take her hand to lead her toward me, and in her hand is a paper with her story. Its a very short story.

A narrow strip of paper -one sentence – is ripped off when I take her hand. One short sentence of her story, carrying the hidden, the denied.

“What is the one sentence you are ripping away?” I ask her – “What are these words that has been impossible to know about?”

In this moment there is an intense shooting pain in my left leg, like a lightning, and I wake up.

I ask for help to see clearly. A memory comes: my husband, daughter and I are hiking in a wood. We are looking for chanterelles and berries. My daughter,  then maybe 5 – 6 years old, starts to scream violently and tells us that something mean has bitten her/stung here. There is no sign on her hand. She is completely inconsolable. It lasts for a long time, and we return home, because she is so afraid of the mean thing that has stung her.

I have thought of this many times – and believe that whatever that crying was about, the sting just released an old agony that could find no other outlet than something “physical.” Living in the constant pressure/tensions that was there between my husband I me – both with tons of baggage from our childhood  –  left her with no words to express the pain.

That makes me think about one time I was stung by a wasp in a finger when I was 3-4, and my mother took time to comfort me and read for me. Now she knew what my agony was about, and could give me what I needed – but the real pain was about all the horrors that nobody ever talked about under the nice façade. And nobody could talk about them: they were so well hidden for us all.

If there were ONE sentence that could express the agony – what would it be? I wonder. For me, that sentence maybe something like “I have to squelch this tremendous pain, otherwise…” and the alternative seems to be murder or suicide, no other options.

And there is lots of guilt there..

This is how close I get for now. And for those who may read this – I wonder if you may have such a sentence yourself, that attracts interruption for others? or just plain ignoring? If you know of one such sentence, maybe you could post it here, as a commentary? It might be helpful to open these deep pockets of repressed stuff in the collective mind.

Afterword in the evening:

My daughter and beau visited me today. As I was telling my daughter the dream, her beau came  into the kitchen and interrupted me by hugging me and thanking for the meal we just ended.


Dare to believe what you know

Another nocturnal session with Barb…I found a part that thought it was safe to choose agony, safe to choose terror! Barb said: “but you don’t have to believe that.” And it felt T E R R O R  at hearing that – because it believed its job was to choose terror and agony as its friends.

“You don’t have to believe that” opened a door to freedom –

We see that when we believed the tiny mad idea that it was possible to separate from God, it felt so horrible that we chose to believe it was real. But it is impossible to feel safe away from God, since you can’t BE away from God. It all comes back to choice. Even if you choose to be separated, God is still there

If I think of the stone-thrower, and all that agony comes up – God is there too

Maybe these tensions and agony is NOT necessary, realizes the “part” -and something inside relaxes, tears are falling, no crying, just release –

Leelah sees that this idea coming into this part of the mind – the words “But you don’t have to believe that” – that is a denial of the denial of Truth –

Barb: “You know it Leelah – believe what you know -dare to believe what you know

Leelah:  Dare to believe what I know


I know

that God is always present. Without Love there is no Life

I can believe I am alone

but it is not true

I can believe people want to kill me

and that is part of the dream that comes through me

but it IS a dream-

and it is true that outside the dream there is just Love loveing

Each time I think I am trapped and overwhelmed in agony and terror, this IS a thought that I believe

I CAN  choose to believe in Love

I can dare to believe what I know – that God is present whether I doubt or fear or believe in terror or not: nothing has happened except in my 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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