The original laughter

I love theater for babies and toddlers, and Sunday visited a pearl: Twist and Tangle, a dance performance with two playful acrobatic girls. No words of course – just two bodies making the most inventive and unexpected forms and playing with sets made from foam. The babies did not make much sounds at all – just paying acute attention as I saw them –

until one of the girls started to make sculptures of the other: –

for each new posture one of them formed the other girl to take, the babies burst out in a choir of laughter. After a little while I felt like sitting in an audience of connoisseurs of the finest art  – and it was a collective appreciation. They saw something that was invisible for my adult mind – and the laughter was intensely moving:  a laughter with no evaluation, no judgment, no learned response – just a chorus of 30 babies or so laughing at exactly the same places, at something that was not visible for adult eyes

but the sound and energy in that laughter brought me right into Heaven –

 

Dismantling the costume

Dream:

Sitting with a (theater)costume. It has elaborate seams: hundreds of them, vertical – like an old fashioned corset. I sit with a Stanley surgical knife and cut stitch for stitch, opening all the seams, and in his way dismantling the costume completely.

I used to work in professional theater with my husband. We had both a lot of paranoid traits.

I am dismantling the seams of my paranoid persona – stitch for stitch. It is very pleasurable.

These “seams”…what a sweet metaphor: the seams are “seems” = appearances.

I am seeing that I am cutting them, and that the cutting process is SO pleasurable

Sleeping and  then waking up…

There is a sudden radiant clear insight that what I have all my life- and lives – considered as threats from the outside -or from inside the mind, but not “mine” – in Truth IS me threatening me, attacking me – there is nothing outside the mind -it is confused mind, choosing the ego

choosing to attack myself – punishing myself for imagined sins against an imagined wrathful god…this comes from a perceived need to keep the Leelah-identity as my safety. Here is the very root of my fear:  the perceived need to keep the “me” identity in order to be safe

My only safety lies in resting in my true identity – the Christ Self.

Right now, there is laughter and release in seeing that I have wanted this dance of being attacked and  feeling righteous about it. It seems wonderful silly and hilarious.

The small identity has been terrified of its own choice to be punished

But that choice in MINE, and mine to choose against

I am unhurriedly on the path toward removing this self abuse pattern in the mind –

…( I am speaking the experience into my recorder in bed. Here is a long pause)

I am bathing in a divine Space of Peace and safety. I have demonized my own Self and  perceived it as “other” and then experienced the attacks from “the outside”  –  how impossible it is to be safe as this limited role we have made of our Self –

– the separated me does not exist: there is only a thought about a “me”, believed in – and because this belief is fully empowered and not doubted, the world of separation seems to come into existence

I am willing to see it differently now

I am all smiles

 

we can’t see it: it is there anyway

In a summer-program from Swedish Radio,I listen to  Norwegian author Karl-Ove Knausgård. He is sitting at the roof of his home in a town in Sweden He is describing his  mixture of feelings the day after the bomb went off in the Government-area, and the shootings at Utøya. As he listens to the sounds of the day – the traffic, the shouts – he is acutely aware of his deep grief and shock, and describing it to us. It hits me right in my gut and heart.

Then – in the middle of that agony- he hears a little child laughing in blissful happiness. He also notices a man’s happy voice, and imagines a father throwing his baby in the air, and the child laughing. I shiver when he mentions the happy laugh: there is such innocence in it. There is only one “place” where this innocence is: Heaven.

He tries to see where the child is, and understands that it must be hidden behind some houses below him. And then he says the words that  send me right into bliss:

“We cannot  see it. It is there anyway. It is that which is home.”

And all at once I recognize this truth – that there might be disasters, agony and grief – and this is there anyway.

I love that Knausgård and non-acimers know it exactly as well as Course-students.

*

Yesterday I saw a memorial program from the 22nd. The ones who were there was the King, the Royal family, the Government from the Nordic countries, all the survivors and their families, the volunteer-helpers from Utøya who saved lives, the official helpers who had been involved, like Red Cross – everyone who had directly been involved. I was noticing how caring and wise somebody had arranged their seats: in the middle of the great room, the people who were directly involved, and who’s grief was most raw and in need of comfort and holding. Around them in circles, the helpers.

The symbol in this image is wonderful: the central pain, and the circle of Loving Embrace which is there.

And I notice how there in this disaster has been symbols of right minded thinking: everybody in this country cares about the pain of the ones directly involved: we all share it, and the desire to comfort and love. And the involved ones all say the same: healing comes from knowing that their pain is allowed and welcomed.

 

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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