The Enchanted Room

Saturday was all magical.

I visited a dance-performance for toddlers. We entered a white silk Yurt. Seven parents with eight babies about one year old – a happy 3 year old boy – and me. We sat on the floor at the walls of the Yurt, and in our center was a white feathered bird/angel-like girl who with great presence delicately  danced and moved and wordlessly related to the children- and lots of red balloons. She moved with complete presence – delicate slow movements. The babies connected with her and each other.

The dancer played with tiny glass rods in mobiles, their delicate clanking sounds made the babies first look wide eyed and then smiling. At one point, the dancer stepped into what looked like a bird nest of Origami triangles made by many colored silk. She pulled it up – now it looked like a moving pyramid-dress – and then she started to whirl like a dervish.

A strong wind arose in our room, and suddenly all the red balloons lifted and danced

I can’t really share the beauty, poetry and magic about it – but we all felt it and connected on a deep level, and time and space disappeared in pure bliss

At no time – it lasted about 30 minutes – did any baby make a sound – there was one who repeatedly crawled out, was fetched by his mother and at the end was in rapture as the rest

The dancer also played with a big bird-puppet – man-size – became the bird, and played with the babies. At the end, she fell asleep, sitting, and we all tiptoed out not to wake her up

At the door, I asked a smiling lady who had made this wonder of a performance and who had made those amazing props and costumes. “It is me” she beamed – “Oh, are you a theater-person?” I said I was, and started to share about my bliss and gratefulness that some people made creations like this – serving presence, beauty and poetry. I found myself taking her hand and kissing it, she looked at me with tears and gave me a warm hug.

Then a tall beautiful man was standing there – it was her husband, and the composer. We shared about our love for simplicity and presence and poetry, In that moment, my late theater-husband’s spirit was present, I felt his gratitude at the performance and the work – and the husband took a step toward me and embraced me

*

This text  below –in blue – has disappeared two times while writing it. Now I write it for the third time. Thank you God for my determination.

In bed same night, I go into the pelvis again as a teacher has recommended, to find the blocks in the two lower chakras and just BE with them. I find my little Leelah there, and also a huge black snake. She points to it and her eyes are crossed in fear.

I look at it. In a big rush of release and gratitude, I tell her: “Sweetie – it is just a big black balloon!” She instantly becomes present. “Who blew that up?” I asked – she answered dreamingly, “I did – “

“Yes you did honey – and so, the only thing that powers that snake is your own breath and your belief that it has power over you”

She is completely motionless. Gradually her eyes come alive. She looks at me – “I made this up to scare myself and keep myself from doing the bad things all the men told me that I did.”

An awesome smiling Presence is around us. I ask her if she would like to let the air out of that balloon – to allow the fear-image to just … deflate?

She finds something sharp and sticks it into the very tip of the snake. She is not strong enough. I find a sledge and hammer the sharp thing into the rubber – and whhoossh, the punctured snake is catapulted in the air, doing the spastic dance we all know that balloons make when we pull their plug.

It sinks to the ground – a pitiful black rubber skin.

And now we discover the plug – it was there, all the time.

She looks at me right in the eyes now. ” I decided this , Mum. I don’t want to be scared any longer.”

I feel the deep release in my body. Fear has been punctured, seen to be self made.

I see Jesus taking her on his lap, putting his arms around her, and I go to sleep. For the first time in 25 years I have a good night’s sleep: I meet my father in our shared Christed Self, all stories have fallen away – punctured. I notice that next to our house there is a large enclosed area: a beautiful church is there. Its energy reminds me of Corfe Castle in Dorset

*

Before I fall into deep restful sleep, it dawns on me that that white Yurt is such a great image and symbol of a healed root-chakra: the parents and the babies, held and nurtured, bathing in the safety of the white yurt, with playful red balloons and a birdlike messenger from Heaven

 

Sunday  October 12

The Drowning

Sunday, in the morning, I dosed off, and when I awoke, the old agony was there. As usual. I heard “get up” and I would not listen: I was utterly convinced that only sleep could make it better. I was wrong

Sitting with the little Child in the morning, again going into my pelvis and the two lower chakras, I saw an image of a child bursting up from deep down in the sea, gasping for air – oh my God, the agonized feeling in the morning is just Child’s constant companion – “I am drowning – I am going under – and nobody cares.”

I talk to her – reminding her that I am with her in this. After a while, a feeling of death arises – a place where nothing moves or lives, desolated, isolated . At first, I sense irritation – and then, seeped in Grace, it is clear that this is the outskirts of Loneliness – the deepest feeling in the specter of separation.

I feel a surge of release and gratefulness: we have found the outskirts of it, now is the time to dive in.

And we dive.

It is intensely visceral. First the nothingness – the stifled never -voiced cries for help – the hopelessness – the toxic ice needles throughout the body – the fear of being suffocated by violent men’s too big penises – the girl realizes that she does not die, since she is aware of it all – she is what can not die – at this point everything flows easy, and no more dissociation.She hears:

What do you want?

I don’t want this!

SAY IT AGAIN

And there is her voice and her will -!

I – adult Leelah – sense it with all my body: this is my will and I mean it.

Now comes the hatred and rage, like a volcano from her: “I want to shove this penis down God’s throat so he experiences what he wanted me to experience.” Her language is crystal clear, her hatred and violence as well – as well as the details. The venom pours out, all the thoughts and images are just experienced and allowed = forgiven – and suddenly we sense that there is  radiant clear light around us

Like awakening from a nightmare.

I knew about this hatred and fear of God intellectually – the Course really drives that in  – but this was experience. Now I test-drove my new racing car!

She tells me that she needs to rest now, and Jesus sits down with her and they are playing a game with glass pearls.

Thank you Holy Spirit for the clear demonstration that the hatred and violence comes from one false thought in the mind: that God is a cruel God who sees us as sinful and guilty and subjects his children to unnameable cruelness and punishment.

The victim and perpetrator are forever two sides of the same coin: the belief in separation – and separation is happening each moment I believe that I am anything else than the Light and Love He has created me to be.

This Light of Awareness is Who I Am

 

The Smile

I am currently working on Chapter 30 in the Course, “Rules for decision.” We are told that only when we choose with our “advisor” – Self/Christ – can we expect to be happy. And the ego hates it: it means that it will be abandoned. So today I wanted to go to the movies, and heard an insistent voice telling me not to go. Since it felt so non-loving and nagging, I took the bus anyway – and then I prayed for a sigh that it was true that I should NOT go to town and movie.

There was a pram standing in front of me – its front turned 45 degrees away from me. I did not see the baby’s head earlier – but the second I prayed for a sign, the baby’s head shot out, turned 45 degrees so it looked right at me and smiled and smiled and smiled.

All doubt fell away. I exited the bus and returned home.

 

Changing dreams

What  wonderful experience: ugly scary stressful dreams where I or others are mean, controlling, hateful and freaked out to each other, now correce themselves while I am dreaming. I recently saw a movie where an arabic young mother  screamed and cussed at a little baby of 1,5 years because she did not use the potty. The mother called her all kinds of bad words – dirty, bad girl, stupid – and the little baby that was used as an actor looked bewildered and sad and anxious. I hated what they did to the child, and I hated the mother for using this method of potty-training. I judged her with all my heart.

In tonight’s dream I had become this mother, screaming at my daughter: metaphysics tells us that what we condemn, we become. Lots of my family was present, and we fought.Really fought.

Then it all melted – and we all loved each other and showed it.

This is the second dream lately where these patterns have played themselves out – showing me that a healing component in my mind itself corrects the false ideas I have of unrest.

Pure emotion

If you haven’t already seen this – please do

Have you ever seen a baby react like this before? I haven’t.

 

Inner and outer landscapes

This night the cramps were unbelievable – and what helped was strongly denying the truth of the thought “there CAN be darkness that  can hurt me”. The thought was recognized as false, and the cramps abated gradually.
This morning they were back, and I sat down with them. An insight came: the origin of this came from the womb. I “saw” the fetus in the womb where there were strong tensions and subconscious intense fear from the mother – I “saw” the baby/”me” screaming  a lot  -and my father’s intense anger at these signs of needs and pain. I forgave myself for dreaming this, i forgave the father and the mother and whatever baggage they carried with them that manifested as tremendous defense against expressions of pain and need – and the impressions they had got which they now transferred and projected on the new baby  – maybe the first “law” I accepted as true:

“There is something WRONG WITH being in pain. One should be painfree and needfree = perfect.”

I forgave the beliefs and asked H.S to come into my mind and heal what I have made. I also sat with that”repressed” baby, blessed it and experienced it crying in relief. Tensions abated.

I realize that there is so much inside my mind that simply is terrified to relax – because that would mean that it would be open to to these terrible tensions that have been repressed. So I decide that when these old tensions/cramps come up in this NOW, I will deny that their psychological origin/cause is real – but I WILL acknowledge that as long as it seems to be present, my forgiveness will both acknowledge that I have made this, and I am willing to be wrong about it – and also accept as much as possible the cramps themselves – realizing that this is coming up to be released, it is on its way “out” so to say.

And “The origin comes from the womb” may of course be read as ” the origin of these pains comes from believing the Tiny Mad Idea of believing in the possibility of separation from Source.

And it needs presence – and patience with my self.

This is the way that seems the most loving.

*

And today’s fun: I am following a great blog – Living Europe  and suddenly saw how their descriptions of these hidden/unknown landscapes are exact metaphors of the explorations we do of our inner world and its landscapes:

There are some places which need to be visited discreetly, on tiptoe, and there are some communities who have always struggled to jealously safeguard their identity, especially when it’s the result of centuries of unique cultural merging. These are not sites every tourist can reach. But, if you are passionate travelers who are moved by curiosity and respect for diversity, this tiny village may be the perfect next landmark in your journey.

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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