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

Inner Images and Sounds

Hi all

This blog shares my explorations with my mind, memory and body – to dissolve and release imprints of trauma in the cells. I have been shown clearly that any symptom comes from a memory of trauma that had to be stacked away when it happened – I have great respect for those parts of me that hid those parts. Through deep love and non-judgment for these parts, they have opened up for me – and today I will share how a deep inner itching – “Shingles” – came from inner images and sounds that my mind and heart could not be present too – as they at that time were far too frightening and threatening.

We all have those places. It is my experience that sending love to them is possible and healing.

In When Fear Comes Home to Love, I share my path through almost 30 years of explorations – with myself and my patients in therapy. When I sat up in the night when the itching was too overwhelming, I asked for help and opened the book randomly – always trusting that Spirit leads my fingers. They landed here:

Exercise: Giving is receiving

The images we store in our subconscious of the Fuckeat-attacks***, still have the power to put us in a permanent position of alert. This exercise may heal the inner enemy-image, and help us see the scared child within the aggressor – calling for help, just as our own inner Child.

Sit, or lie down. Close your eyes. Allow your breathing to become slow and deep. Put your focus on your heart for a while; know that your loving essence waits for you there. Breathe into this love, expand it. Feel and see it as a light within your heart that expands, embracing you in a cocoon of loving light.

Now visualize your abuser in front of you. If that is too scary, visualize him/her in the arms of their guardian angel. Look for a light-spot within him. When you find it, allow it to expand, until it surrounds him like a cocoon. Now see, within his heart, the image of his own inner child. See the child becoming aware of the light s/he is surrounded by. See her/him relax.

Go with whatever happens.

If you want to, allow the two light-spheres to merge. Remind yourself that the image you see within the light-sphere is a mirror of your own inner child.

Give whatever happens over to the Holy Spirit, or your own Highest Love.

***”Fuckeat” is the name I have given the enemy-archetype of the abuse-variety.

We all have our own inner guides of Spirit. When you faithfully do this work, they will arrange the most wondrous and funny synchronicities for you,, as they do for me.

After having worked a couple of hours in the night with embracing the energies and letting go of some of the images, a completely new sensation filled my chest and solar plexus-area. A feeling of safety the body never has felt in this life. And I had a great dream:

I am having a medical procedure in a hospital The doctor is the epitome of kindness and gentleness. After this, the door opens and a multitude of small children swarm in. I run around and call out: I am a love magnet! And whenever I touch a child, I tell it that now it is glued to me. There is a huge joy in this silly game, and I end up being in the middle of a large heap of giggling children

When I open my door to get the paper in the morning, a child has painted this heart right outside of my door:

I love to end this post with a poem I wrote recently:

The Last Judgment

First
The curve and fragrance of the cupola
The sweetness and dependability of the milk
The age old rhythm of the heartbeat

Landing

Belonging

Middle
You and me in the blue boat
Calm vast sea
Resting in the here – membrane
Between above and below
Looking and knowing
Smiling

Last
Being quietly present all the time
In dreams and awakenings
The knowing:
The Last Judgment
Is Love

 

Begging at the Bridge

I had a Skype session yesterday with a healer who saw a part of me that felt not worthy and not deserving of all the help I have from angels and guides and masters. I set an intention to find it and I did: I was seeing the image of a Rumanian woman who begs in our little town. There are four “beggars” there – the three others just sit there with their papercups, but this woman stretches her arms out after us, speaks in Rumanian, rubs her fingers together and my stomach crawls. Last time she did it, I indulged in showing her my disgust, turned back at her and frowned, and her face was contorting in disgust at me.

The energetic response in the body was hatred, anger and a huge feeling of toxicity. Now I lay in bed in the morning and felt literally sick to my stomach at the thought of having to pass this woman next time on my way to the Mall – when I heard Blue say the word “ not worthy.”

Ah! Freedom: she is a mirror. She does something I have judged tremendously: beg for help to live, to be seen and acknowledged as somebody who needs help. Completely dependent on peoples’ willingness to give her money – or care.

In this moment, gratitude flows through me: all judgment melts. I take my little inner child in my arms and allow her to scream for help. There is a big need to be seen in her worth – not because of any talents she has, just as she IS. I watch the tremendous meaning I have given to my talents – and the need to feel valuable and worthy by being a “good girl” who sees others as deserving, but who pales at the idea to acknowledge her own God given value.

I speak to the begging woman inside and ask for help to see her innocence. Michael is helping me, asking me to bless her in her true Self. Again I sense the strong waves of disgust and toxicity, the strong self-hatred, and also hatred at the “rich” people around her who seems to hate her – and I so own my own hatred at the people I saw around me who I believed all knew what was happening to me but couldn’t care less because I really was not worth caring about.

At this point, I realized that I was inside an archetype, and the cause of this was a thought in the One Mind that it was a good experiment to separate from God.

No wonder the “no worth” -identity is one of ego’s most cherished corner stones.

I prayed to Holy Spirit to replace my false perception of myself – and the “ beggar” – with His perception: all Love and Loved forever.

Now I see the sweet mirror: the Mall may symbolize abundance and Self . There is a bridge between me and Self – and to truly cross it, I must learn to not judge my response to the two beggars there : there is my classroom. Forgiving the idea of man of no value, and the ego’s contempt of this.

 

 

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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