Everything Falls

Everything falls

Stones fall

Rumbling

Trees fall, slowly, creaking, crashing, moaning

Temperature sinks

Snow crystals sink and descend

Moods sink

Birds fall, but only if they are shot

Or attacked in air

Otherwise birds never fall

I never ascend in this body

Unless someone lifts me

Or I am in a metal machine that looks like a bird

I can’t even fly in dreams

Though it so happens that

Sometimes I just bend my knees

And lift my feet up

I fly forty centimeters above

The ground

And wave my hands rapidly

Just to tell you, you don’t

Need to fly to the moon and

Sing about it –

It is OK to fly low

With knees bent

The Lighthouse

My inner guide Blue tells me to share a story from my book  When Fear Comes Home to Love the next 30 days, and tells me that I am far too unwilling to promote my work.

Hmm. Yes.

Here is a part of a case story, where we use storytelling as a path to healing, and where the patient weaves me into one of the roles in the story.

Charlotte tells the story of the little girl with an impossible responsibility: to save everybody from shipwreck. The waves are towering high, and she operates The Lighthouse all alone. But now the electric fire in the tower has gone out – a fault on the installation – and the original fire in the cellar must be re-lightened. As we allow the Story to come forth, Charlotte is wondering a bit what this “original fire” might represent.

Now Charlotte gives me a role in the story.She weaves me into the story as the Old Lighthouse-keeper who comes to aid, so the little Girl does not have to do the overwhelming work all by herself, alone in the storm and the dark. It turns out that the old Lighthouse-keeper has an intimate knowledge of the island: he takes the little girl by the hand and leads her to an oil well in the middle of the island’s center! He tells her that she needs to dig  a new channel from this center and into the old well in the cellar of the Lighthouse: the old channel has been clogged by debris, from the time the electric installation was added.

Together we dig the new channel. And soon the flame that saves the shipwrecked can shine again.

We talk about what this power-source is – this source in the center of the island. When I ask Charlotte to sit with her eyes closed and find the source within herself, she feels her heart become soft and warm. We both sit with eyes closed, and now The Voice of The Heart starts to talk through me. The atmosphere in the room becomes completely quiet, bright and tender. I recognize Blue’s voice talking to me and through me.

I have forgotten the actual words of the heart. I remember the feeling of being completely loved, bathed in a river of light and love. There is something infinitely tender within it all – this is how it feels to sit in a loving mother’s embrace – a mother devoid of fear. I sense my heart expand, and it becomes easy to breathe. The Heart speaks to us and receives our shared fear and our effort of having sole responsibility to save everybody from drowning. The heart shows us that ONLY the Well can nourish the fire that warns the ones in danger and  dark waves. The electric man-made system will always be vulnerable and susceptible to damaging forces. The installment is dependent on good fuses, strong lines, quality light-bulbs, expertly polished glass, and it is expensive to maintain. You have to inspect the works continuously, and cannot let down your vigilance for a moment. As soon as you have changed a bulb, another will burst –  but the fire from the well is eternal: all you need to maintain the fire is keeping the channel open and free from dregs.

While the Heart talks with my voice, we suddenly hear small “cac cac’s” at the window-glass. I open my eyes: two small birds are flying slowly toward the glass, touching it with their beaks. While I continue talking, I observe that each time the contact with The Heart is strong, the birds “cac” again. It is like a musical accompaniment – helping me to not float away and space out in this warm, loving atmosphere. “This really happens – here and now. Don’t forget. Don’t minimize it!” say the birds.

When  The Little Girl finds the connection between her heart / Source and the head / The Lighthouse, she recognizes that she at last can step down from the Tower, sit down by the eternal fire, allowing herself to melt.

And at last to rest.

 

 

Birds under water

 

It has been there as long as I can remember. A strong pain in the butt, spreading down the thighs on the backside – maybe it started when I was maybe 8? I needed desperately to find a place where my mom and I could connect *- and I found one: my mother and I were in the living room, and a black spider – in my memory as big as a grown fist – crawls on the carpet.

She screams! So I scream too – we can connect in fear! THAT is our connection. We look at each other in perfect agreement of how dreadful spiders are, and how allowed it is to scream when one sees them.

*The connection I got with my mom was via fear. I scream and jump and shiver – just like my mom. THIS IS SAFE.

This is love, I tell myself. I believe I don’t have a connection to God – so I MUST have a connection with my mother. We connect in FEAR – so now FEAR has taken the place of Love in my mind as my refuge. Now I share this fear with another – that is love.

In my child’s mind, this connection with Mom is valuable beyond means. It is life-saving: it gives me a space to connect with her, to bond, and only in this connection do I not disassociate from the daily horrors going on that nobody must know about – my mother included.

My mother always told me “now I get a pain in my butt” – and it is this pattern that I have saved, to bond with her.

I see the pattern spreading backwards through our lifetimes.

What does it mask?

What is it that we both, in reality, scream out for?

I want to sit with that for a while

And also recognizing that there is no room for God in that fear-shared space: we chose fear. Fear and Love cannot exist at the same time. It took the place of God – it became God in our mind. Now fear unites us, and we both deny our God-given connection with our Christed Self.

Subconsciously this identity – this holding on to fear-as-love – seems very valuable in my mind. And it stays there until I don’t value it any longer and let it go.

Like right now

What does it mask?

I need….I need to scream that I am terrified!

And so the innocent spider came into the space between my mother and I and allowed us to bond in the only way we were capable of right then – and gave us an opportunity to express our common fear in an acceptable manner.

The deepest need is to know that God is there to take care of me when I am terrified -*

I look into my heart, and there He is, inviting me to sit on His lap – He says: what you really are afraid of – all of you – is to come sit on my lap. You think you are so guilty – but I do not create guilt, you do.

The pain in the butt feels like dirty acid, and God tells me it does not mean anything at all.

Instantly my fear of these pains – and my making them meaningful and serious – falls away.

I realize that I am moving through layers in the elaborate fear-defense-system I have called Love

Here is an angry voice demanding that the pain shall disappear RIGHT NOW!

What does it mask?

A deep mistrust: God cannot help me. WILL not.

“Allow it all to come into your awareness” says Christ. “Leave no part of it left in the bodymind.”

I extend forgiveness to myself for what I have created: a terrified being who has no connection to God. I free me to be my Self.

A vivid image from this morning’s dream: two small birds are living under shallow water. They walk at the bottom. I put a finger down, one of the birds hacks crazily at it as if it thinks it if food. I gently lift to other bird up, it sits in my hand and looks surprised when coming into its true living space. I invite the other bird to come into my other hand, it protests as if I offer it hell. I tell it that it can come whenever it wants to. It then flops into my hand and faints. I place both birds on a soft peace of cloth before me – and the trusting bird places it’s wing over its friend.

In this moment a knowing happens in the child on God’s lap: I HAVE TO OPEN MYSELF UP TO GOD’S LOVE, AND NOT MOTHER’S. She simply CANNOT help me, since she (thinks she)misses connection to God.

The second I share this with Kit, she says:
“The second you said this, I looked at my watch, and the ciphers flickered.”

“She cannot help me.”

There it is: this belief goes through our time -line – and consequently, these are the incarnations we create to explore.

Now I see what the dream was showing me: the hand coming into the water and lifting these beings into their true element, is God’s hand. And I – and everybody denying God’s presence as their Self – are the birds, seemingly trapped in a foreign element, where they flying capacity is removed.

The one bird was ready. The other came too – and lack of trust made it faint from fear.

But all the same – it chose Love

 

*That formatting happened all on itself. In the original Word-doc it is just an italic line like all the others italic-lines – and it does not start with a big T either.

 

 

 

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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