Liberation of the Root-chakra

For old readers, who has followed this blog for some years – you will remember the “morning-gloom-and-doom” that has stayed in place, whatever else I have done healingwise.

These glorious days I see it as my greatest liberator.

Let me repeat that with an exclamation mark!

These glorious days I see it as my greatest liberator!

The last two days it has come with a ferociousness that is remarkable – and luckily I remembered this advice I had received recently:

“Scary difficult memories/energies/sights: Now you have the choice NOT to launch into your habitual patterns of resistance, but to stay with the rawness and discomfort of the situation – and let it transform you. ALLOW IT to set you free!”

And as soon as i dropped the identification with the feelings – I am NOT this, I am the awareness of it – it dropped, and it was tolerable. I talked lovingly to the part that had held on to the pattern of resistance as a surviving/coping mechanism, and honored for her choice to do that – she kept us alive and reasonable sane – well, sane enough to go through educations, get a job, get married etc etc – all the stuff we call life.

As soon as I saw this as a gift, the energies started to move. The part of me went through several layers –  intense terror, then dense fields of confusion and thought-spin – then huge rage and anger, then deep grief, then loneliness –  then I allowed it to wash through me, but knew all of this belonged to her – that little one that had gone through all of that. I was in the observer-position – and the part was not fused with me any longer, and could feel it all. I felt it with her, but did not identify with the “me” in it -it was just energy, it had come for a reason – to be seen and acknowledged and held and honored, so “she” and I could finally experience the LOVE that surrounded all of that.

The little one asked the Light “why wasn’t you there when the awful thing happened!” and the Light gently and lovingly told her :

“We were there when it happened. You dissociated from the trauma, and your fear and horror prevented you from seeing our presence. Now you know that we were there – and in that way, you will feel safe being in touch with the repressed feelings later. We have witnessed it, and our love and space for you will melt the negative energy-fields still clinging to your aura – as you yourself find forgiveness within.”

The last paragraph is part of the book ” When Fear Come Home to Love” which I present in the right menu. I have “known” this for 30 years – but these days, it feels like a much more comprehensive healing – like i visit it through many layers. It feels blissful each and every time i get to this place – it is only the resistance, and my identification of this victim, that keeps the pain and energies going. WITNESSING the pain FROM the Self – the loving Observer – transforms and transmutes it.

And now to the fun stuff – the synchronicities after such a lovely process. I get out of bed, and are nudged to open one of the many creative journals I have in front of me in the bookshelf. I open it randomly, and find this image:

The freed Root wicenter

After taking a photo of this to share, I found my had going into another cupboard and taking out a miniature book. I opened it on this page:

 

 

Loneliness and not knowing what to say

Kit is sharing her way of being with her almost 3 year old son – who is in the period of defiance. As she speaks, and pays attention of how this theme feels in the body, she becomes quiet, and a word comes to me: Loneliness. Kit shares a time when a seer told her that there was much loneliness in her family – both in her parents and herself. She remembers being in a small motorboat with her parents as a 10 year old girl, and being overwhelmed by the feeling of loneliness, and at the same time her throat felt like after drinking milk – phlegm was coming up.

I am aware of the loneliness of the taboo of sharing/talking about feelings – and that this is the very sickness I have felt many mornings now – for some months – this is my own loneliness in the morning, when so much is processed in the night – the loneliness of not connecting to oneself. One feels locked inside

This is the theme that is being played out between Kit and I now – we realize that it is not “our” personal loneliness, but THE loneliness. It is the feeling of having our reactions “locked inside” – that is lonely!

Writing this down, the sickness is strong, and I do not need to be personally obsessed about it: just a general reaction in the human nervous system.

“ That feeling may be what Eddie is experiencing when he can’t get his will” – says Kit.

“ And maybe that again could just be the old pattern you took as yours, there in the boat, and now he picks it up and acts out the helplessness and frustration ?”

“It’s like “original sin.” We identify with whatever is transferred from one family member to another, and then we perceive each other as the separated single atom we are not: When we do that, we are not aware that what happens, happens in the field between us.”

Outside my window, the sky is overclouded – except for two bright spots where the light is shining through. It really looks like there are two separate spots – but that is clearly an illusion. The cloud-material just makes it look like that.

“ Eddie thinks he is an atom – and that I am too – that really makes it lonely – the illusion of “lonely” becomes so strong.”

Just like the overclouded sky looks so convincing and makes us overlook our shining shared eternal Presence behind the clouds. We – humans – believe in the appearance of separation.

Kit shares that just before the bus came, and Eddie had howled the whole way, and she had many times embraced him and carried him, he said: “I am sorry, mommy.”

And she told him she was sorry for having been such an angry and strict mom

*

I recognize how lonely it feels to have lost contact with myself – ourselves – on all those places where the old taboo of sharing existed. I don’t need to know psychological details and fix them – I just need to want that connection. -Saying these words brings up a wave of strong nausea. Kit shares noticing a white piece of plastic looking like a human figure who looks like it is throwing up. I notice the metaphor:  the part that wants to throw up is not real, not a “Leelah” – it is a made-up part –

*

I am mentioning a whole life of believing in “evil spirits” – and therefor having experiences with them that seem real -and that I lately have believed that they are not “stronger”: they can’t be, they are just my/collective projections.

Kit tells me that she believes me when I say that. That means it must be true: she heard me as trustworthy. Even though I don’t seem to believe fully in it yet, my words still conveyed the truth.

And now comes a holy moment of great importance to me: it is Kits time to share.

She shares that right now she does not know what she will share – and realizes that she does not need to know.The value of waiting –  give what needs to emerge T I M E  – trusting it. “It is not I that shall create something – that is the illusion –  it just IS created. It is here. We are being dethroned – the “doer” is undone, and  creation happens. The belief that “I” have to do something creative – as a therapist, for example – is tragic- when all I have to do is trust and wait for what comes up by itself. If I believe in this role – that I have to do something, and do not know what – then I become a failure. What an incredibly unnecessary pain…the belief that I could add or subtract something from what is already here – ah, there is a guilt playing in here.

I, Leelah, am starting to see how valuable trust is in the creative process.

“I want to be an Iconoclast!” says Kit. Me too. Let’s shop those icons – or false idols – down.

“I thought that I needed to know what to say. That’s just not true. The “I” cannot know what to do: the “I” is a thought, and thoughts do not think.

 

 

Pesta

Yesterday I was led to Pamela Wilson. On this website she suggests that instead of asking ourselves “who am I”, we ask our “parts” “who are you?

Quote:

“Now, if we are not who we are, how come everything else is who they are? Wouldn’t it make more sense to say, “Well, if I’m not my role, maybe nothing else is its role.”

And rather than wondering what that role is, just ask it directly, “Who are you?” It’s so much faster than trying to figure it out.

You don’t ask it, “Who am I?”

One of thought’s functions is to project onto you, because you have no form. It has to come up with projection after projection, and just in case you relax out of your role it has to create an diversion, quickly.

So ask it, “Who are you?”

Curiosity is the way wisdom gets revealed inside. It is the forerunner of wisdom. Curiosity arises and, if you sit with it, connected right underneath is the wisdom. They are not two.”

Yesterday I sat with “something” that wanted to justify its constant anger. I welcomed it in, and opened my heart completely to it. “It” felt so loved. I felt so much love.

This morning, the usual leg-cramps and tensions were intolerable. I remembered to ask this “something” that was the source of this agony who it was. It answered: “I am Plague.”

Here is an image of her:                 Drawn by Theodor Kittelsen. In 1348, the plague came to               

Norway. It took 60% of the population. As a child, i  was drawn into Kittelsen’s evocative images of strange beings and trolls and figures from Norwegian folklore. Pesta ( a nickname of  the Plague) has a broom and she brought horrible sufferings and deaths – and nobody was saved where she visited.

So now I talked to something in my mind that called itself Pesta – something/somebody that believed in the role of the bringer of death.

Abysmal loneliness. Hatred of itself and everybody who fear and hated it. A belief that this was a role that was given to it and that it had to take – nothing else was available for this, not possible.

I invited it to sit with me, and it did. I gave a willingness to be wrong in the minds decision to choose to identify with such a role. The warmth of truth was allowed to shine on it. It wanted nothing else than to be included in my mind, to just BE without being hated.

Each time I remember this “session” I feel deep release and relaxation.

And gratitude for the possibility to meet whatever who comes up to be blessed and seen, so the roles can slide off and I can see Life underneath the costume: just another forgiveness-opportunity. Not for Pesta – for my mind’s need for scapegoats for guilt.

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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