Rage and the Liver

Yesterday I did a lot of Donna Eden’s Energy Therapy – i found a number of excellent poses/holds to release toxins from our organs – like liver and kidney. The strongest release for me came when  I cupped the hands on top of each other over the liver and gently rocked it, like a baby.

I released a lot from the Liver – and in the night, I had strong dreams where I was tremendously anger at my daughter. I woke up and realized, these were the feelings that the liver had held on to – too much to process and metabolize.

AS I went deeper and deeper, asking to find the deepest root, i found something that may be collective: the anger and hatred directed at a mother (in my case) who abandons her child after big trauma – who will not/can not listen, and pretends nothing happened. And i saw that I /the child of course represses that anger – and the root I saw now, was that I of course had projected the anger of the mother ON MY DAUGHTER: she was now the unconscious recipient for my rage.

We have encountered this rage/hatred often – she has mentioned it often to me when we have been together – I never thought it was mine, since SHE felt it 🙂

but of course it might have been.

So I reclaimed it this night, and forgave myself for my self betrayal
of believing that I must be a worthless shit for her ( mother) to not acknowledge what happened. I owned it and it felt great. And there is much tenderness around all of that now.

Velcro

7 October 2015 Velcro

When Peter and Mary visits, and Peter starts his thunder speech against Christians/bad parents whatever, I sit there silently simmering, because the energy of it feels terrible and I can’t stop it.

But The Course tells me that he is such a great mirror for me – so now, one day later, I choose to deal with it ( in this second, a shimmering colorful butterfly flies past my window, not minding that it is October.) So- what do I hate and condemn?

Giggle – I hate and condemn his hating and condemning

When I resist what somebody says, I make energetic hooks where the others’ energy gets stuck- like Velcro. When I change my part of the dynamic, the other will too.

Pema Chödrön, in her book Fail, fail again, fail better says “The Tibetans say the quality no longer have your nose ring ( because they used to put a ring in the nose of the yaks, and then they could pull the yak wherever they wanted.”)

I’d like to use the word Velcro – the two sides of the tape that hook into each other. Both sides/dynamics are needed for the tape to hold together – and when I drop mine, it’s like when you try to have the “feminine” side of the tape – the soft, sleek one – adhere to itself, it can’t be done – just like the hook-side/the masculine/ can’t hook onto itself either – it must have an “opposite” to hook into.”

Hah! I like that analogue

And Peter and I have a super strong Velcro between us. My (silent) resistance and damnation fuels him, feeds him: what you resist, persists.*

But Peter is gold and I love him – I truly know his pattern is a gift to me. And when they have left (we had a lot of laughs too) I can tend to how I feel.

I sink into the heart, breathe, and wait. Ah. Judging and hating anything only drives it deeper into darkness.

Surrendering the idea that small-me/ego shall fix this – “doing”

Doing by non-doing, says the Heart – just breathe and let it be, admit to your feelings of rage and impotence and let it be – releasing any idea of intervention

It reminds me of what my soul sister Ley does: she reminds herself that (ac.to the Course) whatever she listens to by whomever, already has happened -it is already forgiven and released –and in this mode, she can listen to whatever for whatever time, which creates the healing space for the situation to un-velcro itself – no resistance ♥

Oh oh oh in this moment a little greenfinch lands right on the windowsill just 50 cm away from me, it feels like a caress – and something in the brain lets go – all encompassing beautiful gentle release – it feels like wakening from a terrible and very long dream

 

*

 What you resist, persists / Dialogue with Blue 1997/From When Fear Comes Home to Love

This is the second dialogue I had with Blue. He is addressing me where I was at that time: completely victim-identified.

Dear Blue – please explain the expression “what you resist, persists.” Are you really saying that we should not resist an attack – a rape, for instance – should we just give up all resistance and just lie down and be taken?

Let me explain. When you resist certain feelings, they will repeat themselves. When you resist being with certain people, they will pop up to meet you everywhere – because: those people whom you resist, represent certain aspects of your psyche that you still have not learned to accept. You have judged and condemned these traits within, you have disowned them. Your resistance toward these people is manifesting as disgust, anger and hatred – and since LOVE wants all to be loved, She sends you what you resist and hate, so you shall SEE it, accept that it is there, and send love into it.

 

A miracle of longing

This evening I was watching  “Call the midwife”. There was a woman there who reminded me so of my mother – her mannerism, her way of speaking and moving – and suddenly, simply, there it was – the longing for a mother. My mother. In one near tsunami wave it came, stayed for a little while, and then left. It was clear and straight and neutral: no stories attached. No emotions – just a lifetime’s denied longing for mother.

And it shows me how thorough the emotional healing has been; slowly gradually working/playing through all the layers of disaster and hatred and anger, that I had placed between me and this longing – and now, it simply was there

The stone of anger and justified attack

In Pierre Pradervand’s beautiful book, “The Gentle Art of Blessing,” he describes an exercise he gave a group – to find a heavy stone and a steep trail (a simple task in the Swiss Alps) and to carry it up that trail as “your burden” – and then let go of it.

I did that yesterday. It was big and weighed 22 pounds. I put it in my rucksack and  I trudged up the trail in deep snow. What was the burden: my attack-thoughts. The deep old anger, still justified.

It was so heavy! I first thought I could not  manage more than 150 feet – but I made frequent stops and leaned forward, supporting myself on two ski poles.

Suddenly it felt much lighter.

It took some time…the snow was deep, but the weather was magnificent, 23 Fahrenheit, sunlight, and  in 45 minutes I was high up, disposing the stone on a beautiful place with a great view over the Village

DSC_0206

It was sweet to deeply recognize that I was the one who had been hurt, dragging it along all those years – and I am the only one who could choose to set it down. I realized that I actually had believed I kept someone on the hook as long as I kept the rage – like I had power over them –  but it was really me who was poisoned –

It felt sweet to put it down and say enough, and I felt like making an angel in the snow, right at the precipice

DSC_0203

 

 

Attack

“You are the work of God, and his work is wholly lovable and wholly loving. This is how a man must think of himself in his heart, because this is what he is.” A Course in  Miracles

I sent a mail to Lisa about my long and hard depression. She answered that I had to stop hiding – among other things 🙂 I have been afraid to serve at the Prayer Team at the Teachers of God-site – afraid of falling into the old role and pattern of believing I am responsible for other persons wellbeing. I have described this “helper”-archetype precisely and with love in my book “When Fear Comes Home to Love” – but it still remained part of what I saw as “me.”

In the one mind is a deep belief that “I” can be attacked – that has been thoroughly been played out for me in this and countless other incarnations in thinkable and unthinkable versions – my holding on to that belief as real has truly manifested. About 20 years ago, where the physical attacks had stopped many years ago, but the psychic attacks at night still were ghastly, I started talking into my little recorder that I had in bed to talk dreams into. I pretended to talk to God and allowed my pretend-God to answered. After some nights with this, listening to all the recordings, I saw that this was not a pretend-God – it was Love, educating me, speaking to me where I thought I was – a tortured victim. I was taught how the demonic was only repressed feelings and needs, deeply judged and demonized – and that they could only be healed with Love.

In the chapter “Fuckeat – hatred of needs and vulnerability” in “When fear Come Home to Love”, I mention one of my most important teachers – the Tibetan saint Milarepa. There are many versions of the story of Milarepa and the demons – I like the one where Milarepa after offering them tea, sings sweetly to the demons, and all disappear but one grisly beast. And when Mila puts his head into its foul mouth to find out what it needs, it vanishes too.

Mila was just not eatable. And I have decided that I am not eatable anymore either.

*

This morning I saw that I was hiding from my Self as long as I was holding on to the belief that if I don’t please and satisfy the person sending a request for help on the Prayer Team with my answer to them, they may seek me up and kill me. I have been told that countless times from I was a baby, so it is firmly embedded in the structure I call “me.”

Writing this now, I realize with a shudder that the intense threats and vicious violent brutality that I experienced from I was small, was just a part of the very attacker/violator-archetype in my mind – in the One Mind. And that holding on to the thought that this is REAL – that is, created by God – keeps the separation going.

I/One Mind/ am the source of this. I judge it not. I extend forgiveness to myself for dreaming it up. It is a thought in the mind that I keep alive as long as I keep acting out that I am in constant danger of new attacks if I don’t give people what they think they want. I see that as long as I see it as valuable to protect myself – by not being part of the prayer-team – I am telling myself that I CAN be attacked.

And that keeps the fear and victim-story in place.

I am not willing to do that any longer.

I am the source of this story. Holy Spirit, here it is – simple: thoughts from confused mind, believed in. All of the incarnations as a victim I have created – and the insane anger and hatred that I have SO feared and experienced in this and other incarnations – is part of this belief pattern in my mind. Thank God, I have seen this now, and do not any longer need to project it on attackers outside of me.

Lisa – I am in 🙂

 

Worth

I remember a time , maybe 25 years ago, where my brother, his son and my daughter were going in a little motorboat to the nearest town, and my brother started to yell at his son in a way that took all his worth away. Today I recognize that what happened was nothing else than an outpouring of my brother’s internalization of the treatment that his stepfather – my father – gave him, all the time while growing up. It was just an inner tape in him which he now directed at HIS son. The sins of the fathers…

It was a cry for love – and I knew it in my heart then too, but did not see the larger image: just a projection of what my brother had received: “you are not worth a shit and you need to pull yourself together or else!”

No doubt my father had received this message too. And his father –

I also see the perverted love underneath it: “this is the only way I have learned to try to make you safe – to behave like society expects of a man. No room for vulnerability in boys or men!

But the son interprets it as if HE IS WRONG and unlovable. And must compensate for it by being clever and perfect and unfeeling

I remember my daughter as 10 year old telling me in a letter how intensely afraid she was of my anger – and the person I turned into then. At first I did not understand what she meant – so hidden was it to myself. What a wake -up call it was!

We simply have to own it in ourselves – see the innocence of its source: just a false assumption of unworthiness, given us from someone who thinks they are unworthy – just an unending string of beliefs in our ancestral line.

But a lie is a lie – however long it is protected: our worth is give us by our Creator, who creates like Itself

This is no longer our destiny: it has been broken. I allow myself to be the one in our ancestral line who has broken it. I have seen it, my daughter has seen it – it has been forgiven and healed. Well done, Leelah!

The muscle spasms on the right side of the face releases.

Remembering again what Jesus teaches in “The Way of the Heart” – we have chosen everything we experience, in order to learn how to relate to it: with fear or with Love. How other people treat you is their path – how you respond to them is yours.

I see now that what I have seen in my family as small insignificant glimpses of connection in this understanding, is in reality a VAST space of insight that melts the illusion of separated beings. We flicker in and out of it – and whatever calamities that seems to happen has not a chance in hell to change Who we are, and our inherent worth given us by God.

 

Hush little baby, don’t you cry
You know your mama was born to die
All my trials, Lord, soon be over

The river of Jordan is muddy and cold
Well it chills the body but not the soul
All my trials, Lord, soon be over

I’ve got a little book with pages three
And every page spells liberty
All my trials, Lord, soon be over

Too late, my brothers
Too late, but never mind
All my trials, Lord, soon be over

If living were a thing that money could buy
Then the rich would live and the poor would die
All my trials, Lord, soon be over

There grows a tree in Paradise
And the pilgrims call it the Tree of Life
All my trials, Lord, soon be over

Too late, my brothers
Too late, but never mind
All my trials, Lord, soon be over
All my trials, Lord, soon be over
Read more: Joan Baez – All My Trials, Lord Lyrics | MetroLyrics

 

 

 

 

 

Irritation

The signals lately of irritation have been huge.

In a Forum, just the other day, all the members were being verbally abused by a person whose vocabulary showed a remarkable variation in  imaginative and very graphic descriptions of lover body-parts. He let it all hang out, and his self-hatred were projected on us.

I knew inside that I was asked to pay attention to what this was mirroring in me – and knew that it had to do with the dream about the irritation: that which made interruptions all the time – that which wanted  and needed to express RIGHT NOW.

I go out on the veranda to roll down the solar protection. Suddenly a swarm of wasps surround me – I run inside and close the door and windows. Looking out, i see that they live in an old cupboard for tools on the veranda. Now that is a good  reflection of the toxicity inside the mind: I want to find the thoughts in the mind that I still believe are truth.

So today, in wonderful timing, I Skyped with Caren, who was kind enough to step into the role of the one who irritated me.Or an old crushed part of me, as it turned out to.

That foul-spewing guy on the Forum mirrored this part exactly, as I found out today.

When Caren asked me if i could allow the awareness to expand, this old part snapped: “Don’t tell me what to do!”

I choose to allow its anger to freely be expressed. It spoke from an identity who never could say no or “go away” or “stop” or “fuck you” or “too much” or leave me alone or I’ll kill you!” Expressing these borders was not an option for this one – because the price would be to be cast out of the family unit, and wander the word as the most shameful person evvver.

So when Caren invites me to let it out, it is at first impossible –  the feeling of condemnation and  shame is overwhelming: “What a naughty obnoxious girl you are! You really deserve to die, horrible scum you are!” But nudged to do what I really would have loved to do, I notice that I would have liked to do exactly what the invective-spewer did yesterday on the Forum ( and for which he was banned from the Forum by the administration.)

I would like to yell and scream and be violent and hurt and see people suffer and that it lasted for a long very long time, and then i would leave them to suffer and enjoy their screams for a very very long time, thank you.

It is allowed now – the sickness rises almost to vomiting.

Shut up! don’t say anything! Give me space! Step back! Don’t even open your mouth! Don’t tell me what to do or think or how to be! Don’t tell me how to be! Shut up!Don’t look at me! Don’t poke me!! Its too much too much! Don’t interrupt me! Listen!

The overwhelm is absolute in this child – and all was repressed and denied. No wonder the poison grew in that not-allowed space

The door is opened now. Expressions is allowed, and there is no condemnation and no shame. *

I phone a pest removal firm, and talk to a man who has visited me before, removing a huge wasp nest. He does not hate them, and has the loveliest energy.

Feeling fully what the wasps symbolized took care of yet another repressed part. It all is such a blessed process

Thank you opens the door to Love

Michael Brown   writes in the Presence Process how the very process will bring to us wishes for contact from people from long time ago. Yesterday I met my first real friend in this life – Corinne: she phoned me and asked that we met. Her children had asked her to write about her life, and she remembered that she and I used to write stories together. These were stories about ghosts and skeletons! We started with this when we were 3 years old, and went on for a while, until we drifted apart because I moved away.

I still had that book, we met and  she saw it again – and pointed out that we had exactly the same handwriting.

Corinne is the daughter of an Anglican Pastor. Her home was my safe haven -and heaven -when I was small. Her parents were predictable, safe, loving, honest, straight – and her mother baked the bestest bread in the world, and was always available. Once, I was caught in a crazy wind right outside the Pastors house, 3-4 years old and alone.The pastor spotted me from the window, ran out, scooped me up into his arms and ran back into the house with me. It felt exactly as God’s arms. And of course it was.

Now Corinne and I reminisced about how real and alive those stories felt when we made them. And we made them exactly the way I work with stories with patients in my therapist practice today: the story sits in the air and enters us and we both take turns in seeing what happens next.

Corinne told me about her marriage with a wonderful man – happy in his work, with his children, always joyful. She showed me a photo, and thinking about it makes my hair stand up: this is somebody who completely embodies JOY. She tells me that they have been married for 45 years, have 3 children and 5 grandchildren, she likes – and loves – them all. She does not lie: there is a peace emanating from her when she speaks.

In this moment, I think: maybe it IS possible for me to receive love from a man who will NOT turn into a devil when I last expect it. She has done that – and she was my first and best friend – may there be a mirror here?

In the evening I had a Skype session with dear Caren. There was a cramp like pain in the abdomen, and she asked “Could you say thank you to it?”

In the same second I said yes – recognizing that I  do want to befriend what is, not hate it. There was a silent and radiant expansion, like a closed door opening – there was radiant light and joy around me, and I heard a “thank you” from inside – like from a prisoner being let out in the light, realizing that he may have done heinous acts, but they were done from fear and belief in separation, and he sees that in reality, his spirit is free and has always been.

My own belief in the value of self-punishment is once again seen as meaningless and silly –  I also deeply recognize that everything that has happened to this one through incarnations, I have brought upon myself by bringing my beliefs into the ego thought system of sin, guilt and fear. Now I have a deep intention of recognizing the thoughts, and immediately bringing them to the correction of Spirit in my mind, before I attach a belief and an “I” to them.

Today, I received this wondrous video in my mailbox. What a great synchronicity

http://www.karmatube.org/videos.php?id=2046

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Loving reminder

Some week ago I opened the doc where I have saved this blog as a doc. All the titles were gone from the navigation-menu to the left. Whatever I did could not bring them back.

I swore just a little – and as I reformatted all the titles in 16 point bold Times, one by one since 2010  I found myself starting to read some of them. I highlighted the pearls, aiding me in the post-traumatic stress-period after the stone through the window.

And discovered what a great gift it was that I had to do that re-formatting.

Here are some of the pearls – re-given:

(About the stone-fears:)It became so clear how the story is nothing, and how my belief in it gives it all the meaning – and power – it has for me. It became clear how much I held on to it. And what has been the hook is the belief that it can kill me if I let it go. Suddenly I felt a giggle – and a willingness to be wrong about that belief. Holy Spirit took it, and now I know: This cold/hate/anger/fear cannot kill me: it is just a story.

Someplace in the dream, there is a really icky dark poisonous energy. I state my willingness to release the belief that ego can block Love – and after some seconds I have the thought that this is the very substance of the veil of illusion, that warps our perception – described above in the Course-quote. Blue says: “If God is perfect Love, this is a dream.” It’s just stuff. Not a signal of some hidden guilt or dangerous personal memory. I am starting to be excited to know that Heaven is just beyond this veil.

From Barbara: “As Spirit we come to see that “me” is not real.  We try to find “me” and “me” can only be found in the images in our mind.  There is no “me.”  There is no family.  There is nothing but Spirit.  We are free.  We are home.   And we can never again believe that we are “me.” The Awareness was always there.  The Awareness will always be.  As we shift our attention from “me” to  I AM  the perfume of peace envelops us. There is nothing left for us to learn.  We simply have to Be.”

It is just a habit that I call me. I can only let it go now when I see that I choose it.

And in the night, Blue spoke so soft and sweet to me: reminding me that each time I had a memory and felt its nauseating impact on the nervous system -I could remind myself that this was nothing I had to fix, by “forgiving it so it should go away” – I understood, in a melting moment, that all that was required, was silently looking at it.

“The unpleasant feelings you are feeling are all different flavors of resistance. They are just masks – or requests for Love. Take off the ragged costume: just a little fear. Just a little resistance – just a little ignorance. Just see the light under it – just be willing to see it shining through.That’s all that matters”

As I allow the truth permeate me – that if God is perfect Love, anything else must be illusion – the strong sensations of panic abate.

 I got the “message” that all was taken care of between us, whatever happened later was just part of the dream/the script – not to be taken seriously.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stone through entrance

Time is 4:04 am January first. This time is called by some “The time of Angels.”

I wake up by a huge crashing sound. Think it is firecrackers.One more crash – bigger. Intuition; get up and out on the veranda – there is some mischief going on downstairs.

Enormous crash – Look down, man runs away. He looks so strange: pointed blue hat, beige sweather and knickers! He is very tall. I have a feeling of unrealness.

Down in the living-room, I see a big stone in the middle of my floor. The glass-door is broken. you wouldn’t believe how much glass-shards there is from such double-glass doors.

And first now do I realize that that man threw that stone through the door to get in. Or – to just crush something in anger.

Shock. Instant ice-cold. Fear:”He will be back!”

Calling the police, they come quickly,  the male sergeant photographs footprints in the snow ( super-clear prints,) the young blond sergeant listens to me, patiently,gently. They call the glass master who arrives shortly after. He sets up a proviso new glass slate – and removes most of the shards.

That touches me! They all are so kind and helpful. I ask for a hug, and he smiles and gives me a good one. My cold body becomes warm.

No sleep. Next morning I call the police station to set up a time for  filing a claim. They tell me that they will do it for me, so I do not need to travel.

Sitting with this, I know that it is part of a process of healing and awakening.

The night is filled with  full-blown post traumatic stress. The symbol of a man who crashes the door to my home is a metaphor for rape. I notice that the man himself was not inside my house: only the stone. Seeing this brings shivers of release down my spine: this is happening through me,as me, a healing FOR me. “ME” meaning decision-maker in the mind outside time and space.

Next morning – today – I find anger. I welcome it, and tears flood horizontal. What a force behind them! It feels like an encapsulated wound has been burst open, and waves of gratitude flows through me. While the crying is going on, there is a knowing that the stone-thrower has given me a huge gift: he has burst the door to my old repressed and JUDGED anger – the one that thinks it is guilty and sinful if anger is voiced and expressed in any way at all.

I call the psychiatric acute-team and ask them to come home to me. I want to have witnesses to the stone and the glass – witnesses who are professional health-workers, and who can receive this anger and other feelings which may arise, now when the wound is fresh. This is the gift – to have someone witnessing it very soon after trauma and shock happened – so at last I can express the energy. That breaks the pattern of denial that has held the old wound encapsulated.

Oh I love the idea of fetching the stone back into the living room! Now it is seen as a gift – I want to make art of it! Will take photos tomorrow and post here.

*

Later, in the evening:

Two  women from the Psychiatric Acute team was here. I told them the story and showed them the stone. Peggy said: “That is a lava-stone.” We talked about the symbol of a man filled with rage crushing the entrance – and that the stone in fact is fire from the center of the earth, petrified. And fire is a great metaphor for anger – but also for will, power, strength and transformation!

It felt great to have those two professionals listening to what happened: the story could be told, simply, without having to “protect” anybody from it.

Deeply healing

THANK YOU

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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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