The Know-it-all

Or, should we call him/her the Besserwisser, the Lecturer.

Yesterday I had a serious case of being besserwissed.(Ha, the word-corrector suggested blessed!:)) And it sure has turned out to be a blessing.

I asked a question to a teacher, and for over ten minutes he lectured and besserwissed and droned on, with great power and conviction. I felt: invisible – dropped – powerless- crushed –  intimidated – a stupid klutz. And angry.

I  subconsciously called that response out of him, so to at last see the pattern and heal it.

So this morning I went into the Observer mode of  the Spontaneous Transformation Technique: *** see below

Neutral, emphatic,patient, no agenda – just wanting to BE with this part that was lectured to. I told it I saw it ( it sat in my solar plexus): I am here. I am not going anywhere.I am in support of you.

There was a substantial relaxing response, showing me that this “part” had made the connection. It was no longer isolated and separated. And there is the first shift: awareness comes into this old pattern of victimhood: the one with no power, no voice.

So what was the advantage of that position? was my question – (I know that I can’t let go of anything that I think I am the victim of -) why did I need others to lecture me?

Simple. So that I could be the nonthreatening powerless one. The one who was not noticed, had no responsibility. The one who did not provoke status quo, the belief system/religion on the rulers – and who therefore was reasonable safe from being accused and burned at the stake or tortured by one of the zillion inventive was man has concocted.

I truly saw that this was  a CHOICE I had made: to shut down my true authentic voice and will. I have made that choice WITH the power that God has given us all – the one we have, being created in His/Her Image. So that choice to be powerless is mighty powerful!

So I had made my Universe, as Jennifer McLean teaches: we all made it from 1)the beliefs we made when small when we were hurt and traumatized – in my case: ” Life is dangerous if you talk back,if you say no. You are here to make others feel better.You do not count at all as YOU – you are a “wrong copy.”

And then life works like this: 2) we make our coping mechanisms to survive – based on these beliefs – and voila, this is our Universe now: I think/believe that I will not be respected – this is a “Universal Law” for me now, based on my beliefs based on my early experiences. And I will perceive the world THROUGH the filters that I put up – and people who enters my Universe will have no choice, they will turn up to disrespect me – until I  can forgive myself for these creations, and deeply honor and love the aspect of me who started this Universe.

When I encouraged that aspect of me to feel it all, there was tremendous fear from all the times this soul experienced torture – and most of all, all the times it spoke up and loved ones suffered the consequences of that. It’s all there, in the One Mind we all share – and what we all heal, seemingly on our own, we make available for us all to tap into and share.

These times, huge waves of awakening sweep over the planet – what was before tucked under, now comes up to confront us – (a reluctant thank you, Mr Trump!) – We can only heal what we allow ourselves to see, to forgive, to release. And my deep experience is that when I allow these old defense and protection-mechanisms to come up – to be seen, and HONORED for their way of protecting us from harm – then  my Universe mirrors THIS new view of me/my life/ back to me.

*** The Spontaneous Transformation Technique is a unique, therapeutic system of healing. You can read more under “Services.”

This is a healing way to deal with the energy that get trapped in our stories and traumas, and help it to unravel and transform, when it at last is looked at with love. This opens a space of great healing and allowing of what is – and from this space you can play and explore how you want your future to look – free from the old patterns.

1.session is free!

BLESSINGS

Yesterday I prayed to find the blocks between me and finding my desires.  They were many and mean and I asked for help, and was lead to this note in my latest wise-quotes-book

“I cannot heal what I first haven’t embraced and forgiven. This is not the same as condoning it – it is saying YES to being with the energy of it. I have to KNOW it as such – as energy –without judging it as energy – in order to be able to bless it and embrace it and THEN let it go.”

With help of Jesus, through the deep guilt that permeated me, I was led to see – I was shown –that everything I did in the past, I had been doing it to mySelf. Now this was known and not only accepted as an axiom.

In  the night, after praying intensely for help to see a horrible memory differently, I was shown that  the kittens, trees, children and scary adults of my scary memory were made of the exact same substance – LOVE.

This time I witnessed it, clear as LIGHT.

And for the first time I could truly get what Jesus says in the Course and Way of Mastery: ” You are doing it to your Self.”

I looked around and found LOVE appearing as table, PC, hands, person in red morning coat, body, red lamp, water bottle, window, blue sky, clouds.

Magnificent illusion.

Now Jesus is nudging me to mention Pierre Pradervand’s book “The Gentle Art of Blessing.” In it, he mentions a story a friend of him told him from the civil war in Rwanda. Pierre has allowed me to share this wherever I want. You are free to do so too, as long as you give full credits to Pradervand and his book.

His friend was an African spiritual healer. “One night, around two in the morning,…an armed band entered my home.—They were armed with guns and bayonets, I was armed with Truth And Love. As they pointed their weapons to menace me, a thought came to me in a flash, immediately dispelling the fear, which was attempting to invade my thought. Love and Life are indestructible and permanent. I am the idea of Life, God, indestructible in Life, permanent in my being! There is only Life, God, which remains undivided, not two or more lives, This infinite Life is the life of these so-called killers, my life and that of my family.

–.”When at one moment one of his daughters started crying, the head of the band gave the order to kill her. Without even pronouncing a word out loud, the healer immediately affirmed that the man who had received the order to kill was the perfect child of divine Love. “The Law of Love is present here, controls the situation and governs each and everyone.” Immediately, the man who had already raised his bayonet to pierce the girl interrupted his gesture.”

I leave out bits of the story here – this book is a HUGE gift and you might just want to read it.

–“After working spiritually for about thirty minutes, these men became very calm, as is feeling the love we reflected. The chief called them and they left the room. This gave me time to affirm still more forcefully absolute truths about the perfect man of God’s creation.

Once back in the room, these men were transformed. They had become new persons. Even their language had completely changed. They were disarmed and friendly, and started to confess the crimes they had committed. They stayed at our home for two hours. No one was hurt, everybody was safe and sound.”

*

“The Law of Love is present here, controls the situation and governs each and everyone.”

*

 

 

Blue is playing

For new readers: BLUE is my guide in my book “When Fear Comes Home to Love.” Here is an excerpt from the Introduction, describing the process of painting the Tree on the Cover – the Image that gave rise to the book and the exploration of archetypes.

During my education in Expressive Arts Therapy in Switzerland, our class gathered in Gwatt by Thunersee a couple of weeks in May to explore our birth families through painting, sculpting and storytelling, under the magic leadership of Mariagnese Cattaneo. Each of us was to visualize our family as a tree, and then paint the tree (see the Image / the cover). Afterward we made a story from the painting and shared it with a partner. The day after, we expanded the work further – making rapid sculptures of our family members from all kind of materials. I choose clay and painted tissue-paper.

As I closed my eyes during the visualization of my family tree, a tremendous energy soared through me. A door to a blocked and hidden room inside me opened – now the freed energy rushed forth to greet me. “Pay attention! This is important!” was the clear message within the experience. A melting sense of gratitude and release opened my heart and soul – something within whispered “at last” and relaxed deeply.

The image of The Tree presented itself with great force and detail. I painted as if in a trance, with lightning speed, serving the Image as well as I could – not censoring any of the strange mythical figures. The Image commanded faithfulness from me, and my feeling of curiosity and wonder grew as I allowed it to come through me.

After having written the story coming from The Image, and having shared it with my classmate Aaron, The Image and Story would not let me rest. I decided to create a healing ritual from The Story. I did this with Aaron as co-player and witness. The insights were startling.

I sensed I was being shown something that must not be interfered with intellectually, not analyzed or controlled in any way. Once again, Aaron and I took my sculpted family out into the friendly Swiss wood, just outside our painting studio, to unravel them and explore their mystery and gifts of healing. The ritual exploration was done within a circular sacred space we created, and showed us with uncanny clarity the split within my family’s psyche. One the one side, there was blind need and terror, caused by trance-like sexual abuse. It was accompanied by the denial of the acts and all the pain they caused, which created the adapting, conforming survivors. The family had successfully dissociated from this. And then we all had dissociated from our Self and the light within – our true I Am. This was the beginning of the process that connected me to my forgotten personal story or myth – which later turned out to be a blueprint of the collective Myth, described in “The Jekyll and Hyde-family.”

*

And since I like to mix the silly with the  more “serious” – here is my latest poem:

Life on the outbreath

I paint my nails

With a lovely boat

With sky-blue sails

While I take my stout.

 

For a furry hat

And a shocking shirt

I take my cat

And my boa Curt

 

I’m eightyfour

And I do as I like

I leave with a roar

And return with a Mike

 

Lesson 282: I will not be afraid of love today.

Amazing day

I woke up with a strong dizziness for the third day in a row. At the mall, I was aware of a cluster of energy around me,and that it was neutral, not “mine.” In that second, the dizziness started to evaporate.

I was aware of my condemnations and judgments – and they were neutral, I allowed them to be.

What a tremendous difference: between judging my judgments = PRESSURE and SHOULDING and SELFBLAMING – and just noticing it with interested curiosity

Then I heard a thought that said: You have ordered everything that happens today. And absolute everything was great. Feeling irritation at waiting for the bus was great! Feeling bored listening to a lecture was great! There simply wasn’t a small me it was happening to.

walking to the bus I noticed this tree – or entwining of two trees, really:

DSC_0455 A spruce – entwined with the red wine.  It seemed like they co-existed harmoniously. Like all those pesky ego-voices inside – today just allowed, but given no power at all.

NICE

I noticed that the body felt just as crappy as it uses too – I was just interestedly being aware of it. Neutral.  No fear, no guilt and worry – just sumthin.

There’s still pressures and stuff going on in the body – but I don’t take them personally or serious. Which does not mean that I ignore them – I allow them to be there- but there are no stories about them.

For me, that is just L I B E R A T I N G  beyond description.

There was just a tremendous tiredness – and I sat down and allowed it. It did not mean anything – I just sat, with no pressure to fix anything – and it just slipped away, gently.

Ah. The simplicity of non-doing.

Not being afraid of Love today.

Resting in being, letting life be lifing

Reality – and where we think we live

My friend Coreen R.Walson allowed me to print her crystal clear teaching story about reality here.  When you find yourself reacting with WHAT! please read to the end: reality is the upside-down of what it seems to be in this world.

And I couldn’t have read that if I had not experienced this upside-down perception myself –  where the laws of Love were seen to be quite the opposite from the laws of “nature.”

Enjoy.

*

THE HALLWAY –

Imagine a long hallway, and you are at the beginning of it. And at the other end is a brilliant, white light, yet it is soft and warm, and inviting. And you know intuitively that it is your job to keep focused on this white light. While you are in this hallway, you experience perfect peace, complete satisfaction, a quiet sense of joy and a tremendous sense of gratitude, and a remembrance of your connection to and Oneness with the Creator floods your consciousness. And in this stillness you know that everything works together in perfect harmony, and all that you ever need is effortlessly supplied for you, because it is your Creator’s pleasure to provide all that it’s creation needs and desires. And you are in a state of awe before the grandeur of reality, the perfect balance, the rhythm of life, the perfection, the beauty and the Love the permeates you and your surroundings.

And as you begin walking down this hallway, you notice that this hallway is lined with doors. All of them look identical. Then all of the sudden, one of them swings open and there stands your best friend, with a panicked look on their face, motioning for you to come in and look! And because you love your friend, and you are concerned, you enter into the door, and find yourself in a room, where there are chairs lined up facing a movie projector, that is playing a movie called scarcity. And your friend is talking rapidly about how the economy has been hit very hard recently due to a crisis in the housing market, how prices for food and gasoline have gone up, how there is a shortage of food, and jobs are hard to find, and she can’t afford her rent . . . . and you watch your friend point to the movie playing, and you see how agitated she is, . . . and as your eyes become accustomed to the dark in the room, you see people sitting in the chairs, some with their eyes glued to the screen, some have fallen asleep in their chairs because they’ve been there so long. And then you receive a stirring within you, . . . . and a still, small voice reminds you of where you just came from, . . .that feeling . . . where was it . . . oh yes, back outside in the hallway, where all your needs are always provided for effortlessly, where you are safe and loved and cared for. And you try to take your friends arm and go back out the door, but your friend keeps staring at the movie screen, irritated that you aren’t seeing what is right before your eyes. “Look!”, she insists, “don’t you see what’s happening?” “don’t you care?” But as you try to explain what is on the other side of the door, the volume of the movie gets louder, and your friend goes back to the screen, mouth open and eyes full of fear. You realize that you cannot help her, that you must go back into the hallway alone.

As you enter into the hallway, the stillness and peace welcome you. You take a moment to allow yourself to readjust from the previous scenes of chaos and calamity to the knowing off the presence of God and His dominion over all. You exhale, and are so grateful to be back Home.

As you continue down the hallway further, another door opens and it’s a family member, crying and begging you to come into the room and see. You immediately head for the door to see what’s the matter, and just as you cross the threshold into the room, there was a still small voice that asked you whether that was a good idea, but this is family, and they are crying, and you dismiss the voice and you go into the room, and there on the movie screen are very disturbing and very real looking sick people and scenes of illness and disease, with narrators talking about symptoms and the seasons that people will most likely suffer from these unavoidable illnesses, how long they will last and what medications you can buy to help alleviate your inescapable suffering. You see the fear and horror in the eyes of your family member and you begin telling him that what they are looking at is only a movie being played out on a movie screen, that it isn’t real, . . you point out that there is, in reality, nothing going on except that he or she is mesmerized by what is playing out in front of them. There is nothing actually taking place, that all he or she needs to do is come out of the room where everyone experiences perfect health. But your family member looks at you like you’re absurd, argues on the side of the scenes of numbers showing high fevers, paled skin color, runny noses and difficult breathing. “Look at the pain these people are in! How can you deny this?! You obviously don’t care, either that or you are delusional.” And with defiance in their eyes, they turn away from you, and you see that he or she has returned to join the others, sitting in their seats, staring at the movie screen, fixated on the images of suffering sense, . . . and again, you feel the familiar tug to go out of this room, and you head back out into the hallway.

You continue on a bit further now, again a door opens wide, and your mother steps out, and she looks frail and scared. And she asks you to come into the room with her. And you don’t want to go, but it’s your mother, and your heart wants to reach out to her, and you go in and the movie of unavoidable death is playing. And your mother is wringing her hands, and you go to comfort her. And you want her to come out in the hallway with you, where Life is eternal and she listens to you for a bit. You tell her that her life is complete out in the hallway, that she is spiritual and eternal, you ask her to remember Who made her and that she is not a limited, physical body but a free and perfect spiritual Idea of the Divine Mind that created her. And you think she’s convinced, and she stands up with you, and as you head for the door, she takes another look at the movie screen, and looks back at you, and with great sadness tells you that death is inevitable and that she loves you. You stand there, looking at the screen, and tears well up inside you, but your hand is on the door to the hallway, and you shudder over this moment, as you are being called to remember the Truth of being, all the while being consumed with the sadness and grief on the screen in front of your physical eyes. Just then you hear the still small voice tell you that you are of no real help to anyone as long as you stay in the room. The only place you can help another is from the standpoint of perfection, back in the hallway. If you are in the room, you are accepting the reality of the movie being projected, and you are no longer awake to Truth and Reality. “Aha”, you exclaim as you remember once again the experience of the hallway and with this renewed strength you grab the door handle, and enter back into it.

A wave of joy, of gratitude, wash over you, you shed tears in Thanks to an All Mighty God and his infinite goodness as the former pictures are wiped away and you recall the Truth that sets us free.

As you continue your journey, new doors begin to open up, some people you recognize, some you don’t. And you acknowledge these people, and sometimes you might strain your neck to see what movie is playing in the room, but you don’t enter into the room. You begin talking to those in the room while standing in the hallway. Some of them slam the door on your face, others listen for a moment and then shake their head and close the door. But you begin to realize that the longer you stand in the hallway, the more certain you are about the truth of being, the more influence you begin to have over those who are in the rooms. They listen to you a bit longer, they notice that there is something different about you, . . a light perhaps, a certainty, a knowing . . something that they recognize in you . . . . . that makes them want to listen to you more, . . . .

And then one day, a woman opens a door, and pleads with you to come in to see the “help me my child is dying” movie. And there is not a single part of you that is in the least bit interested in going into that room. But you feel immense compassion for this woman. And you look back up at the light at the head of the hallway, and with this surge of Love and Power, you look her straight on in the face, and you declare to her that what she is standing aghast at is nothing! It is a movie on a movie screen, and nothing more. And that she has the power and authority and ability to walk out of that room any time she wants to! That her life and the life of her child are always perfect, safe and secure with God. That no power exists to end, alter or destroy Life. Life is of God, He is Life itself, Eternal Life, with no beginning and no ending. You share with her the story of your brother Jesus Christ, how he came to prove the nothingness of death, the Allness of Life, that he overcame the grave, and gave us the victory over the illusion of death. And you saw something click in this woman’s eyes, she remembered, . . . . she smiled and without looking back she entered into the hallway with you. She was transformed as she walked out to join you, beauty and holiness radiated from within her, she laughed as she threw her head back and faced the light, she was overjoyed to recall her birthright, and sang out in thanks because she was overcome with gratitude. And you felt something, as you looked down, her child had joined the both of you, and the child took your hand and his mother’s hand, and looked into your eyes, and said “thank you”.

And that’s when more Truth began dropping into place for you. Yes! My job here is to stand firmly in this hallway, where I receive all that I need to do the Father’s Will, and to beckon to those who are in these rooms, hypnotized by the pictures. And this desire sprang up, and compassion was in the driver’s seat, and you humbly asked for guidance on how to spring your beloveds out of these rooms. And you heard the following:

These rooms are like refrigerator doors. The light comes on inside them only when you open the door, and the light shuts off when you close the door. Like the refrigerator door, the movie in these rooms only start when the door opens and when the doors shut, the movie turns off. This is because the movies, which are only false beliefs being projected outwards, need a watcher, a witness, in order to be seen. A false belief requires a believer to have any influence or power. If there is no believer, there is nothing to the false belief. If there is no witness, there is no movie playing in the room.
So unless there is an observer in the movie room, the movie isn’t playing. And if there isn’t a believer, there is no false belief to mesmerize us. And then came the punch line, you hear in the most sweetest, kindest, most loving voice, “ and by the way, I never created a false believer”.

And you take a step back, . . . and you gasp, and the tears fall, and you begin laughing . . . laughing because you realize that you had still been mesmerized yourself while in the hallway, seeing doors with false believers past them, taken in and feeling responsible or concerned for others, . . . . when all along, there is no such thing as a false believer, a false belief, a scary picture, an illness, sickness or death, or a sufferer of an illness, sadness or of scarcity. You see with infinite clarity the perfection of what God is and what God created. The new understanding takes on a vastness, an expansion that goes beyond your physical senses and moves through you and out into everything that you see. You are transformed by the freedom that this Truth brings, and you can’t help but be so grateful that everything that you felt was so real before was nothing but a false concept that you left behind because you know that you have the mind of Christ, and therefore you are not a believer of false images and nobody else is either. What is true for you is true for everyone! And you claim this out loud, and you thank God for it. And then you hear voices from behind you, and as you turn around, there is your best friend, your Mother, your family members, and a host of others that you recollect from the dream, and they are smiling at you, and you are laughing and celebrating with one another, even poking fun at each other, playing like kids and enjoying the Presence of God, the Allness of good, and the absolute nothingness of its supposed opposite. You see the Truth in each other’s eyes, you recognize your Oneness in one another, and you are overcome with Love. There is nothing else. Nothing else matters, nothing else is real, nothing else is acknowledged.

And in a moment, you all stop, and look back towards the light, and the most beautiful music you’ve ever heard starts to play, and the walls to the hallway fall away, and you see colors you’ve never seen before above you, and every part of your being comes vibrantly alive and together you hear, “well done, my good and faithful servant” and you are welcomed Home.

 

LIFE – here – and here- and here

The synchronicities are overwhelmingly loudtalking the last month:

First the movie BIRDMAN with Micheal Keaton – which is about actors  who mesh with the narrative/manuscript they are playing, and you end up not knowing what is script and what is “real” – and in the end, Keaton becomes his fantasyfigure and transcends physical laws.

Then , a play, 2+1,  where 2 terminal old patients take a trip into their common dreamworld/past, and somewhere there a woman says, comfortingly when the one oldie hesitates, “It’s only theater you know -”

Then I am reading the marvelous book “Turtle Diary” by Russel Hoban. It is about an odd couple who steals the big turtles from London Zoo and drives them to the sea and launches them into freedom.There is this fantastic description:

“When a  a photograph in a newspaper is looked at closely one can see the single half-tone dots it’s made of. There one sees the incidence of a single dot,there another and another.Every picture is a pattern of coincidence unrecognizable in the single dot. Each incidence of anything in life is just a single dot and my face is so close to that so that I can’t see what it’s part of. ( My italics.) I shall never be able to stand back far enough to see the whole picture. I shall die in blind ignorance and rage.”

Then she describes how she recognizes the perfection of all the dots, and how they fit – and how every move she does, and everything/person she meets, are parts of this perfect pattern.

And at that sentence, i felt it too – and everything and everybody around me, a busy bus terminal fell into perfect choreographed movements of such beauty that I started to cry.

I was  on my way to a Electronic shop to repair my cellphone. On the way there I sensed that I would later experience  yet another wonderful synchronicity.

And when i stood at the desk with the repairman and waited, I lookd through the long room onto TV- screens at it very far off end:

There were film clips of big turtles there, diving with humans

Then I go to a movie: Sils  Maria – where yet again the actor who plays an actor in a new version of herself 20 years older than the first-play-version – that was simple to understand, right? and she and her assistant mesh with the script of the new film…and if this isn’t enough, there is a line that the actor says, that is almost identical with what I just read in the Turtle Diary book: “I shall never be able to stand back far enough to get the whole picture”

Ah

And then I turned on a taped movie for late dinner:

“Family Man” … where the couple go through 3 possible lives /constellations together –

Nothing is cut in stone, people

Tine and Space are constructs

And I did not need to be far away from the  bigdot-picture – I just had to recognize the beautiful choreography of absolute everything my eyes fell on – inclusive myself – and marvel marvel marvel at the perfection of it all

Ley’s post on Facebook today – and mirroring

For those who want a great example of how the “outer world” change when we forgive the Course-way, this is for you.

Yes, and obviously for me too – grin

Ley:Had a beautiful experience yesterday that I’d like to share with you. My son came over with his girlfriend and her 8 yr old daughter and we were having a lovely time. As the day wore on it was apparent that my son and his girl liked to play fight a lot. We were all laughing and watching them roll around, quite lighthearted and fun but then it kind of turned a bit more serious and you could see the power struggle going on between them. It more and more aggressive and no matter what I said, they just carried on and things came to a head when she kicked out at him and hit him square in the nose, accompanied by a big CRACK!

As i watched, i could see how angry he was and how worried she was at what she had done. He immediately called for pain killers and was making her feel very guilty for what she had done, telling her she had broken his nose. I could see the guilt on her face and she was saying that she felt so bad and kept apologising. He was storming around the flat, very clearly trying to calm himself down and not lash out as he was tempted to, it was all very clear.

As i was watching this, I noticed all kinds of judgements coming up in the mind. I was hearing these thoughts that were saying that this should not be happening, especially in front of a small child. Judgements came about how aggressive he was and also how aggressive she was too. There were thoughts that said she had gone too far and ones that thought she should know better than to allow her child to witness this level of aggression. They just came tumbling out of the mind, one after another. I just watched as the judgements flowed and asked spirit to watch this with me.

As I continued to watch what was going on, it suddenly became clear to me that I was watching the past. I was watching all my own judgements of similar situations playing out right in front of me. I had been a play fighter with my husband and very often it would go too far and someone would end up getting hurt (and there would be guilt). I had memories surfacing of thinking i was a bad mum for letting my children see certain things throughout their lives. I had memories of acting inappropriately in social settings, that i had felt guilt around. It all just bubbled up as i watched this display unfold in front of me. Spirit showed me that I was watching the past playing out in the present. They were all my old judgements of myself!

So instead of continuing and allowing the ego judgements to be believed, I was shown that there was another way of seeing this. No need for judgements, just recognition. I was being gifted with seeing my own guilt, right in front of me, looking like a bad situation in the dream but in reality, it was an opportunity to release and forgive all these judgements i’d had of myself. There is no one ‘outside’ of me to judge. This was my own stuff. Spirit was clearly showing me that what the body’s eyes were reporting was NOT the truth. All it took was to ask spirit to look with me and all of this unfolded and became so very clear to me. As I looked further, so many memories of the past came up, helping me to see where i had believed the judgements that ego had placed on them. I’d listened to the ego’s story and believed it and now, I could finally let that go.

It was like a tsunami of memories flooded the mind, all there asking to be healed. They were lining up to come and be heard. As I saw each one, I forgave it and forgave the whole situation in front of me too. I could see that this was indeed a HUGE gift to see what i was seeing and instead of my son leaving under a cloud of guilt or shame or even anger (or judgement from me), he left peacefully and we parted with a gentle kiss goodbye, not having designed more problems between us. It was peaceful and loving and felt so totally wonderful.(even if his nose was a little sore )

As I forgave, i could see the effect that it had on the situation. It calmed down so quickly, with us even ending up laughing about it. All i could do was sit in awe afterwards. I was just so grateful to have finally seen another huge chunk of what i had been holding in beliefs. The healing is still coming in now. Memories are flooding up to be seen with Spirit and forgiven, I am finally seeing what it was i had been hiding in the unconscious that was holding me in those patterns that told me i was a bad mum, a bad wife, a bad example, aggressive, power hungry, inappropriate.

I release all of these ideas now to spirit and know that more will come, now that I am welcoming them to my conscious mind. There’s no longer fear about allowing this to come. There is only recognition that in all the time i was resisting looking at what i truly believed about myself, all the guilt and the repressed anger and the judgements of me could come now, safely, without fear that I can’t bear to look at it. None of it was EVER true and now I’m truly beginning to see that all along i was just listening to a story that just wasn’t real. (Leelah’s formatting)

Grateful and blessed

This is what resting in God brings. I’m in!!!!

*

Dear Ley, this was really helpful! 3 situations seen through because of your post:

1)I went to the mall, had a coffee and had my first situation up for correction: a veryveryvery fat lady sat beside me, eating very fattening food. Oops judgment galore. Then she left the table – let her bag at the table. I finished my  coffee and went after her, and told her that she might not take the chance of leaving her bag there for everybody to steal. She looked right at me, smiled and said “there is nothing in it of value. I have  all my values here, with me.” – She carried her purse in her hand …

First I looked at the way I have believed that body-appearance had any thing to do with value. Oh boy. Forgave that. And remembered a very unexpected happening this morning.

I have been fasting 2 a week for a couple of months. I stated my intention to weigh 55 kilos – that’s the weight my body feels best with. Last time, 14 days ago when i stepped on that scale, the body weighed 57. I remember the way I felt when i said my decision: “I really prefer my body to weigh 55.” There was no urge there anymore.

Then I forgot the whole fasting for 14 days! The last week I have had very fattening food for at least 5 days – ice cream galore, pie,champagne:) fish swimming in cream and mango-chutney and carry  – all yum. So this morning I started the fasting again and stepped on the scales.

I had lost 4 pounds

The Course tells us that the food we eat does not fatten us – but our guilty beliefs about such food does.

*

2)Then I  encountered an old schoolmate 40 years ago. We happened to be subjected to rape by 2 Carabinieri -friends*- yes – i n  Florenz. Now we live in the same area, and she always looks down and away when we happen to meet. – What does she mirror for me? a denial of the possibility of sharing pain. We both said nothing to anybody afterwards. (We were on a study-trip as art-students.) I forgive myself for believing this happening showed a slutty character – which goes back to childhood, when I was accused of this. – Which again is so typical in abused people’s past.

Forgiven now.

*

Came home. A neighbor told me I needed to cut my lawnInside the strawI said yes and went inside – and thought, no – this little meadow is a sweet piece of art to me: I can lay in it and look through the straw and enjoy life and beauty.

So  I went out and told her it is a piece of art –  and she said, in a complete change of mind, “it is like a fairy tale – like the times when we were small and were inside things..”

I asked her if she could sit down in it so i could photo her – clear no. Mirroring: As child, I would rather be dead that photographed. As I forgave myself for judging myself for this, the sweetest peace came over me. And my neighbor turned towards me and smiled

 

 

*Policemen

 

 

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

 

Being with

Woke up from a recurrent dream of having to control my daughter, or else – catastrophe. I explored it with Kit in our Skype session today – and very fast we recognized – again – that all that is required for healing – and peace – is just sitting with the sensations in the body. The ego goes frantic, tells me I have to figure out and understand –  but the impulse from inside is. just be with it.

As I share the dream with Kit, i sense the familiar sense of urge,frenzy, “don’t interrupt me i have to speak now or else” – and suddenly I am not willing to have it drive me any longer. I stop and breathe and allow myself to receive Kit’s loving small remarks – and it feels as if I have broken an ago-old pattern of trusting the collective demand: only if you understand something can healing happen. Only by “figuring out”  – that is, using the intellect …

Now i just rest in the awareness of what goes on in the body while this pressure-slavedriver is running the body mind: calmly observing pains and aches all over. Anti-achievment.  Most humans I know think we have to “dull” reality, or we get lost in chaos and pain

It is so very clear that “having to understand” really means “control.”And of course we can’t control life – but this impossible demand that we should be able to, creates nightmares like i have, where i project what I think needs to be controlled on my daughter.

There is this collective delusion: I have to do something – add something to a conversation, a relationship – there is a deadly fear beneath it: a fear of life as it is – a dulling of it – to put something on top of reality is to dull it, cover it up, making it manageable in our mind

The ego wants to achieve something – add something to what is

What happens now – in the body? is what I want to be with. And as my 20 minutes goes to an end, I know that an old pattern of control has been seen through and found useless.

“And you had that insight just by sitting with it” said Kit.

Trust – to life – without adding any thing. Projections gone – at least for now:)

*

Later in the session, a pattern of searching out guilt becomes evident. And the old judgment of doing that – such an un-spiritual thing to do, Leelah! – melts when it becomes evident that children are taught to do that to feel safe with angry parents/others: an “I am sorry, my fault” defuses the anger from the possible attacker.

Getting stuck in the pattern comes with a huge cost, though – and we do get stuck if we haven’t felt and allowed the huge fear beneath it: to be annihilated.

*

As always: nice synchronicity and timing: I got this from Gangaji right now:

In recognizing yourself as life itself, you are put rightside up. You freshly live your life, rather than thinking it and then trying to live according to those thoughts. You directly experience your life, and insights naturally follow that experience. The thinking mind becomes the servant—rather than the master—to the direct experience of life.

A fulfilled life is a life of discovery and exploration. It may be touched with excitement or fear or desire, but at the core it is filled with peace, and delight.

We meet in wonder of this mystery that we have named “Life.”

It’s a free life… it’s your life.

 

Reblogged : The Night I Died

I am reblogging this beautiful article with permission from Tracy Cochran and Parabola Magazine
Again the column of Light is mentioned – and also what the Course teaches: that nothing is as it looks – included violence and “evil.”
How wonderful to read such a description as Stacy’s – and what a beautiful rich language.
Parabola Magazine

HH-Cochran03-3The Night I Died
Tracy Cochran

Head down, hugging a grocery bag, I hurried past gutted buildings and empty lots, back to my ex-boyfriend’s apartment in Hell’s Kitchen. It seemed like a good idea at some point, having dinner together as friends. But the little Spanish market on the corner of Ninth Avenue and West 35th Street was the only pocket of light and warmth for blocks. Ahead there was nothing but deserted streets and a cold wind blasting in from the dark Hudson River.

I wondered what I was doing in this godforsaken place, when exactly I had become so insubstantial, agreeing to go out to the store alone at ten, agreeing to do all kinds of things I didn’t really want to do. I shivered a little with self-pity.

Manhattan in the 1980s was a gritty place. I used to think of it as having a dark glamour but no more. A few years before, I had come to Manhattan like someone drawing close to a fire. I wanted to be warmed, enlightened. But nothing turned out the way I hoped, not love, not work, not life. I pictured myself a waif huddling along in a bleak neighborhood, bringing her own pasta to dinner. The image was so pathetic that I savored it, a fragment of a modern Dickens tale.

HH-Cochran03-2I was passing an empty parking lot on West 35th Street near Tenth Avenue when three men rushed out at me from the shadows of a gutted tenement across the street. I heard them before I saw them, pounding toward me, whipping past me, stopping and wheeling around, taking up stations around me, as purposeful and practiced as football players,
or predators.

For a few moments, we stood and stared at each other. Incredibly, I was gripped by an impulse to smile and make eye contact, to diffuse the situation by establishing that we were all fellow human beings, even potentially friends. They were not interested in making friends.

They were pumped up, panting, panicking. Two looked like lanky teenagers, wraith-like in dark hooded sweatshirts, eyes glazed with fear. The third was older and much bigger. A faded green sweatshirt stretched taut across his chest. His wrists dangled out of the sleeves, as if he was wearing someone else’s clothes, and maybe he was because the next day there were reports in the papers of escaped convicts in the area. His broad face was grim.

Darting behind me, he jerked his arm tight across my throat. I felt his chest heave and heard the rasping of his breath. Staring up at the side of his face, I saw a long shiny scar. It was strange to be pulled so close to someone intent on harming me, but even stranger was the sudden pang of compassion I felt for him, for the wounding that had made the scar, for the suffering he must feel to be doing this.

It was the strangest thing. Brain studies show that the readiness of the body to move precedes our awareness
of being willing and intending to move, that everything that happens is dependent on thousands—millions—of conditions and turnings of little wheels that take place below our ordinary limited level of consciousness. But the burst of compassion I felt didn’t feel like an unconsciously conditioned response, like the impulse to smile at my muggers—like almost everything I found myself doing. It was as if another, higher consciousness was descending into my consciousness.

HH-Cochran03-4I read a story about how no animals were found among the dead after a tsunami; sensing the infinitesimal vibration of what was coming, they headed for higher ground. Even before I could grasp what was happening, it was as if the animal of my body and my physical brain was heading for higher ground, opening to receive help from above. Even before I glimpsed the light, my heart was opening to a kind of feeling that cannot be created or destroyed by anyone, only received.

“Money!” His voice was a rasp. His massive arm was pressing down on nerves that made it impossible for me to move my arm to reach the money in my front pocket, and I couldn’t talk to tell him this. “Money now!” He pulled his grip tighter. My vision started going black around the edges. I remember thinking the situation was absurd. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t tell him that I needed to be released to reach my money.

But I also glimpsed the larger absurdity of the larger situation: I was
a young woman alone at night on a deserted side street in Hell’s Kitchen, drifting along thinking about what she liked and didn’t like about her life, what she judged to be good and bad, dreaming that she was in control of what happened, all the while oblivious to reality. “When a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully,” wrote Samuel Johnson. Mind suddenly terribly concentrated, I saw I was in real trouble.

My brain started working faster than it had ever worked, calculating the size and strength of my attacker, the agility of two young men guarding me, my own capacities and the probability of this or that happening if I did this
or that. My brain calculated and recalculated every aspect of the situation I was in until it concluded there could be no escape, no movie-like scene of flipping my attacker with deadly martial arts skills, throwing him into his assistants and running away. The reality I confronted was inconceivable, unworkable. My brain crashed, the screen went white. I surrendered.

HH-Cochran03-1It was then that I saw the light, just a glow at first but growing brighter until it became dazzling, welling up in the darkness to fill my whole body and mind. As it grew, this light gained a force and direction—an authority unknown to me. I remember marveling at the building intensity and intention, wondering where it had come from, not just low down in my body but from unseen depths—and then it became a column of brilliant white light that shot out of the top of my head, arcing high into the night sky.

A Tibetan Buddhist I met who read an earlier account of what happened to me that night told me it reminded her of a Vajrayana Buddhist practice called phowa. I also learned that Vajrayana means “diamond” or “thunderbolt” vehicle, which I understood personally because everything about the experience dazzled, was charged with force. Phowa is described as a practice of conscious dying, or transference of consciousness at the time of death, or even a flash of enlightenment without meditation. Tibetan lamas imprisoned by the Chinese were said to be able to leave their bodies this way.

But this—happening to someone who could barely sit still for a twenty minute meditation—didn’t amaze me
as much as what unfolded next. The column of light joined a much greater light that descended to meet it. Behind the abandoned tenements, behind my attackers, behind all the appearances in this world, there was a gorgeous luminosity. It was clear to me that this light was the force that holds up the world, into which all separation dissolves.

I realized that I could see myself and my attacker from behind and above. I watched myself gasping, watched my knees buckling, watched myself sink, watched myself looking up at the light. And then I was embraced by the light.

Science argues that while near-death experiences feel real they are simply fantasies or hallucinations caused by a brain under severe stress, and certainly my brain was under stress that night. A choke hold can kill in twenty to thirty seconds. Someone skilled in martial arts can knock someone out within eight seconds using such a hold, and brain damage can happen after about fifteen seconds because stopping blood flow to and from the brain can lead to brain hemorrhage, and the pressure on the heart can cause it to stop.

But science can’t account for the intimacy—for the extraordinary presence—of the experience. I didn’t just see the light, I was seen by it, and not in part but in whole. I knelt on the sidewalk, looking up at a light that was not separate from wisdom and love, a light that descended to meet me.

Afterwards, I heard the phrases “communion of saints” and “heavenly host” and “vault of heaven” and felt a thrill of recognition—my mind grasped at religious metaphors to describe what I had seen. The light was vast, vaulted, and all around. I sensed the presence of beings, ranks of beings, an ascending multitude, turning, moving, altogether forming a great witnessing conscious­ness, in every detail and part infinitely finer and higher than my own. There are no words for the majesty and radiance of what I glimpsed and how it made me feel, lifted, seen, accepted into a vast whole.

A particular being drew very close, looking down at me from above with love that had a gravity and grace unlike anything I known. It proceeded to search me, brushing aside everything I thought I knew about myself—my name, my education, all my labels—as if it was not just unimportant but unreal. I once came up with an awkward personal metaphor for the urgency of this part of my experience: fire fighters searching a burning building, shining a light through smoke, looking for signs of life while there was still time. Strangely, I sensed that the urgency and concern weren’t for my physical life.

Finally, the searching stopped. The light came to rest at a particular spot in the center of my chest. It poured through me. I was very still, in thrall, humbled, aware that what was dear and good to this light was not any quality that I knew, but something deep and mute in my being. How long was I held in the grave and loving gaze of this higher being, this angel of awareness? Moments probably, but time meant nothing. I had the sensation that my whole life, lived and as yet unlived, was spread out for examination, that my life was being read like a book, weighed like a stone in the palm of a hand.

I saw that everything counted—or, everything real, every tear, all our suffering. That I didn’t “believe” in
any of this—that I was too cool, too skeptical, too educated to be dazzled by experiences that were clearly, had to be, subjective, that I would never resort to hackneyed religious metaphors, and images like weighing and reading—that also didn’t count. My opinions about what I believed or didn’t believe, what I was capable of or not capable of, were just smoke to be brushed away.

I was lifted up into a field of light and love, flooded with a feeling of liberation, of rejoicing. It was like flying, rising above the clouds into bright sunlight, except that it was more radiant. It was exalted, sublime yet welcoming. Everything I knew fell away, yet I felt completely accepted and acceptable, completely known, completely loved, completely free. There were no words, just experience. Yet ever since, I have wondered if this is what salvation is like, to be lifted
up out of the fog of separation, of sin, of forever missing the mark, and delivered into the whole, into the reality behind the appearances of
the world.

It was clear that this radiant light, this loving consciousness, held everything that is. It was the alpha and omega, the particle and wave, the unifying force of the universe, suffusing us, carrying us when we leave this body, accompanying us always and everywhere, appearing in us when we are open to receive.

I knew I wouldn’t stay long in this radiance, in this sublime love and freedom. I was still sinking to my knees on a dirty sidewalk in Hell’s Kitchen, still struggling to breathe. Yet, as strange as it sounds, I wasn’t struggling inside. I was still. It felt as if I was falling to my knees in prayer—surrendering, not to this attack but to something that was infinitely higher. I understood that a life could have a different sense and meaning, that it could be spent seeking, purifying, practicing—I couldn’t find a word that conveyed the glimpse I had better than the words of the prayer, “Thy Kingdom come, Thy Will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven.”

The being who searched me—who saw me inside and outside, past, present, and future, told me without words to relax, the struggle would soon pass, I would not be harmed. I would return.
I would go on. The light withdrew.

My attacker loosened his grip just enough to allow me to reach a ten dollar bill in the front pocket of my jeans. I threw the bill on the ground. My attacker jerked his arm off my throat, scooped up the bill, and ran off with the others. I stood up. I had my life back. I stared up at
the night sky, then down at the ripped grocery bag, wondering why the muggers hadn’t taken the cigarettes
and the six-pack of beer.

“Of all the pitfalls in our paths and the tremendous delays and wanderings off the track I want to say that they are not what they seem to be,” writes the artist Agnes Martin. “I want to say that all that seems like fantastic mistakes are not mistakes, all that seems like error
is not error; and it all has to be done. That which seems like a false step is
the next step.”

I walked back to my ex-boy friend’s apartment, shaking with sobs. I wasn’t harmed. Settled at the long dining room table in his book-lined loft, tears streaming down, I choked out the story, insisting that I wasn’t harmed. Never mind the weeping, I told him. I was fine, really, perfectly calm at center of the storm, you see. My ex-boyfriend looked miserable. The crying went on and on. He pushed a twenty dollar bill across the table towards me, repaying me for the groceries. I brushed it away and he pushed it back. Just take it.

We aren’t in control in the way we think we are, I told him. Things happen, even terrible things, but they are not what they seem to be. And we aren’t alone. There is a light, a luminosity behind the appearances of this world. There is a luminous, loving intelligence above us, watching over us, caring for us. I knew how this sounded. Religious, mystical, unbelievable. Do you believe me, not about the mugging but about the light? He shook his head no, scowling softly, sorry for me. He just could not.

In the weeks and years that followed, I learned this is how it goes with personal revelation. I was an unreliable narrator, no more so than any other ordinary human, but still very limited, subject to dreams, to the wheels and levers of conditioning. But the experience never grew dim. I told it to people I trusted, or the dying. I told it to my father in his last days, and to another dear old friend near his end. I sure hope you’re right, he said.

What we really have to share is not any spiritual treasure we imagine we have stored up, but our poverty, our common human situation, our inability to know.

Many years after that night in Hell’s Kitchen, I still drift through the world lost in thought, captivated by stories and images. But I know a greater reality and a greater awareness exists. I know there is a truth that cannot be thought, only received.

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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