Good bye to ghost stories

Thursday 2-3-17

Today I got my mother back.

It was a memory of music that did it – and most probably a session with Tapas Fleming, the creator of TAT: I was helped to let go of my old attachment to ghosts, as their helper and friend.

My mother has gone since 32 years. Her family and ancestors were also  close to that field of existence. She died from ALS, a really nasty disease. It’s a progressive neurological disease that causes dysfunction of the nerves that control muscle movement. Over time, this leads to muscle weakness, gradually affecting how the body functions, and then you die.

I grew up close to a graveyard – beautiful, peaceful, I saw it as MY garden and played there, mostly alone, except for the ghosts, that I perceived as my friends and wrote storied about. In the session with Tapas, my connection to “having to” be someone who could assist them to go home, was healed – and later I realized, that since the intention of TAT is to include all our ancestors, it certainly included my mother’s lineage. I am convinced that this procedure was essential for what happened the day after, when I had a sharing session with my friend Kit.

In this session, while I was speaking I SAW that both my parents had shown me the light, metaphorically – the place inside that is eternal, all loving, never-changing, radiantly truthful, brimming with life and presence. I shared it with my father in 3 areas:

Listening to music, only the two of us – mostly Mozart. We were joined at that Paradise place, and there were no words there, but perfect oneness. If my mother entered the room, that Paradise was always interrupted: my father went into preaching mode.

He could not share that with  both of us.

And – my mother could never share HER love of music with him, precisely because of this preaching tendency of his – but it happened when I came home from school that I overheard her playing the piano: Musette by Sibelius was her favorite. And mine. (NB: this guy plays it twice as fast as I loved to hear it – but still was the best I found on YouTube.)

And I sneaked up the stairs, and she heard me and stopped immediately, and I begged on my knees that she could play it once more – and some rare times, she consented – and we joined the Place of Light.

As I realized that both parents had shown me this Place, a torrent of tears broke and I sobbed with all my heart. Suddenly I SAW my mother as Spirit – healed and whole and innocent – and all the images of her as ice-cold and hard and rejecting fell away like old snow in April sun. I SAW her in front of me, as soul – on “the other side,” but in complete communication with me -just the same connection I shared when I joined with my mother’s ecstasy in music.

The torrent breaks through almost 70 years of denial – I have insisted of holding on to the image I held of her, the stories about her – and now it simply melted in front of this shared love, our union. The longing for her, the longing to join in LOVE broke through – I sob “my mamma, I long so much to join with you in THIS, and not all those stories from childhood!

There is no blame or anger at all in this longing – and for the first time, I see her Self, no projections now – just pure and whole.

I see her sitting in front of me, but still on the other side – she sits in profile, her head bowed, she is listening intensely with every cell to what I am telling her. At first she sits in shadow, but it lightens every second, and now I see her clearly. An inner earthquake shakes her violently, and still she is fully present within it, allowing these shakings to shake lose everything inside her role as woman and mother.MY mother in this particularly difficult lifetime, where she played the role of a mother who rejects her 4 year old daughter returning home after being group raped.  I sense her gratitude for this release, her joy that all that is false is shaken loose. No sense of guilt and sin, just shedding centuries of false beliefs and victim patterns lodged in cells and DNA.” I shake for both of us” she says, I know that is true. Now the shaking is concentrated in Root and Hara. She burps and belches, does not throw up, but throws her arms in the air and swears and smiles – no devil taking her to hell because she swears – we look right at each other and delight in this freedom.

My father, who played the role of a Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde – person, and who showed contempt of the “concept” of a God, now was seen as playing a role – and I was shown places where he had demonstrated Source consciousness.

In addition to the heavenly music-joining, let me share the chanterelle-paradise

All the times he took me deep into woods, long hikes away from the trail, being guided by his phenomenal knowing where the chanterelle-places were. I remember the energy of him sitting silently down and brushing his hand over moss, like a wizard – creating a large patch of shining yellow chanterelles – and then intensely enjoying my delight at this treasure.

Recapitulating these times today made me see that he had guided me to the Light Itself – and that he therefore HAD the light available to him. The atmosphere in these places brim with light and love for me – and deep joining.

Also when we rowed out to the   open sea and fished – when the vast cloudless skies reflected in the mirror as dead calm sea, and  same oneness embraced us in timeless silent space.

When I understood that they HAD shown me Home, both of them – I knew without a morsel of doubt that we all had played in a drama we had chosen to explore as souls – and our roles were perfect. Now I could SEE the Truth of them both, and the joy of recognition was indescribable.

The day after, my daughter the musician visited and played the Musette for me. And my mother was present, glowing with joy.

All traces of ‘ghost’ about her – vanished

*

8/3 More release

Today  with  Heather ,I found that my Mount of Venus really was the shield of a big mother Turtle –  and that her shield stopped the insanity in my father’s energy during the sex to come into the womb. And so, my daughter did not have to swim in that womb energy for 9 months.  And has not been subjected to this energy, as i was.

Seeing that – and honoring that defense-mechanism (= turtle shield-) started an avalanche of releases. I saw how all my defense-places in this body had created their patterns out of the need to keep all parts of me safe – and now, the time has come to be brave enough and ready – to release them all.

At the end of the session I was sitting with a profound cold in the lower body – and heard Blue – my voice for Christ – remind me: “It’s not about becoming warm – to have “succeeded” in this – it is about just noticing exactly where you are RIGHT NOW, and honoring this – trusting the process.”

 

Reykjavik

Yesterday I watched a movie about a man dying from cirrhosis. He was drinking constantly, and smoking too – and when I left the movie theater I found myself crossing the street to the bar right outside the theater. I just felt that I had to have my favorite pizza – and a glass of red.

It just didn’t taste as it used to

The rest of the day was beyond disgusting horrible, the body felt like shit and dying – and then I had the healing dream.

I dreamed I was in Reykjavik, and everything was a chore and a dread – the agonized kind. When I woke up and asked for help, I was told to sit up and take my wise-notes-book. It said: “Let yourself allow to be loved by us.”

Immediately I realized: Reykjavik. That word is very similar to smoking in my language.

Now I realized: I had identified with the main character – it was him who wanted that glass of wine. It was “his” feelings and sensations I experienced the whole day. And he was clinically dying.

In bed it now came to me that I had wanted  – and CHOSEN – to identify with my parents when I started to smoke. I was ten! They both smoked at that time.  My father had to have an oxygen tank at home his last days. He smoked at the hospital, and he smoked at home. I recognize the need to anesthetized oneself.

I stated my willingness to let go of all the energy structures that my father mirrored for me. Soon the image of a huge black snake appeared around my midsection. I saw that I had needed that to stop my breath from going deep, just like they did. I wanted to BE like them, to not be separate in any way.

It took quite a while, this process. I was now aware that whatever happened in the bodymind belonged to that drinking/smoking-field/gestalt, so I did not have to take it seriously. And after a long while, I noticed the stream of love filling the body

It is very good for me to remind myself that whatever unpleasantness seeming to go on in this bodymind, IS an identification with something that is already over – a false identification

Transformation of childhood-house

Those who have followed me will know that I am very deep into symbols. Almost 50 years ago I discovered C.G Jung and his work on archetypes and the subconscious. His thought world felt so very natural to me – and I was intrigued with his way of seeing the house as  symbol for our body and mind – my body felt a strong response at that.

Yesterday I got a strong impulse to visit the place I lived for almost 24 years – from 6 till 30, when I married and moved to a new place with my husband.

I started to film from the moment I stood outside – and very soon I found the owner who invited me inside – so i could document the changes.

I am listing the changes here, and invite you to find what they would mean for yourself – if  you would like to play with symbols like this – like the weeping willow that now is removed. If this was your house now – what would the symbols mean?

The house looks shining new. The path to the entrance is delicate paved, the door is shining white and looks new. Same red color as when i lived there.

The weeping willow in the front has been removed 🙂

The roof is new. The windows are all new.

I find the female owner, she invites me in.

The outer entrance is isolated, no more freezing temperature there.

The inner entrance has lots of more space, and all is so CLEAN and looks so NEW. ALL is so well-tended and cared for.

What used to be the kitchen is now a storage room! And the biggest change: our old living-room is now their new kitchen – all in shining pure white! And they have added a whole spacious new  annex: a new  big living-room.

Oh that was a great symbol for me – this new living room added to the house!

Upstairs, my mother’s room and my room have now become one – just like my connection with my now deceased mother has healed completely.

Going down into the cellar/basement / the subconscious  – new bathroom where the food-storage-room used to be. New cozy cellar-room for hanging out-and a big new room added for guests/children – to sleep.

All symbols show transformation of unconsciousness and fear now turned into  spaces of friendliness and hospitality. Children are welcome here.

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.

 

A miracle of longing

This evening I was watching  “Call the midwife”. There was a woman there who reminded me so of my mother – her mannerism, her way of speaking and moving – and suddenly, simply, there it was – the longing for a mother. My mother. In one near tsunami wave it came, stayed for a little while, and then left. It was clear and straight and neutral: no stories attached. No emotions – just a lifetime’s denied longing for mother.

And it shows me how thorough the emotional healing has been; slowly gradually working/playing through all the layers of disaster and hatred and anger, that I had placed between me and this longing – and now, it simply was there

The Enchanted Room

Saturday was all magical.

I visited a dance-performance for toddlers. We entered a white silk Yurt. Seven parents with eight babies about one year old – a happy 3 year old boy – and me. We sat on the floor at the walls of the Yurt, and in our center was a white feathered bird/angel-like girl who with great presence delicately  danced and moved and wordlessly related to the children- and lots of red balloons. She moved with complete presence – delicate slow movements. The babies connected with her and each other.

The dancer played with tiny glass rods in mobiles, their delicate clanking sounds made the babies first look wide eyed and then smiling. At one point, the dancer stepped into what looked like a bird nest of Origami triangles made by many colored silk. She pulled it up – now it looked like a moving pyramid-dress – and then she started to whirl like a dervish.

A strong wind arose in our room, and suddenly all the red balloons lifted and danced

I can’t really share the beauty, poetry and magic about it – but we all felt it and connected on a deep level, and time and space disappeared in pure bliss

At no time – it lasted about 30 minutes – did any baby make a sound – there was one who repeatedly crawled out, was fetched by his mother and at the end was in rapture as the rest

The dancer also played with a big bird-puppet – man-size – became the bird, and played with the babies. At the end, she fell asleep, sitting, and we all tiptoed out not to wake her up

At the door, I asked a smiling lady who had made this wonder of a performance and who had made those amazing props and costumes. “It is me” she beamed – “Oh, are you a theater-person?” I said I was, and started to share about my bliss and gratefulness that some people made creations like this – serving presence, beauty and poetry. I found myself taking her hand and kissing it, she looked at me with tears and gave me a warm hug.

Then a tall beautiful man was standing there – it was her husband, and the composer. We shared about our love for simplicity and presence and poetry, In that moment, my late theater-husband’s spirit was present, I felt his gratitude at the performance and the work – and the husband took a step toward me and embraced me

*

This text  below –in blue – has disappeared two times while writing it. Now I write it for the third time. Thank you God for my determination.

In bed same night, I go into the pelvis again as a teacher has recommended, to find the blocks in the two lower chakras and just BE with them. I find my little Leelah there, and also a huge black snake. She points to it and her eyes are crossed in fear.

I look at it. In a big rush of release and gratitude, I tell her: “Sweetie – it is just a big black balloon!” She instantly becomes present. “Who blew that up?” I asked – she answered dreamingly, “I did – “

“Yes you did honey – and so, the only thing that powers that snake is your own breath and your belief that it has power over you”

She is completely motionless. Gradually her eyes come alive. She looks at me – “I made this up to scare myself and keep myself from doing the bad things all the men told me that I did.”

An awesome smiling Presence is around us. I ask her if she would like to let the air out of that balloon – to allow the fear-image to just … deflate?

She finds something sharp and sticks it into the very tip of the snake. She is not strong enough. I find a sledge and hammer the sharp thing into the rubber – and whhoossh, the punctured snake is catapulted in the air, doing the spastic dance we all know that balloons make when we pull their plug.

It sinks to the ground – a pitiful black rubber skin.

And now we discover the plug – it was there, all the time.

She looks at me right in the eyes now. ” I decided this , Mum. I don’t want to be scared any longer.”

I feel the deep release in my body. Fear has been punctured, seen to be self made.

I see Jesus taking her on his lap, putting his arms around her, and I go to sleep. For the first time in 25 years I have a good night’s sleep: I meet my father in our shared Christed Self, all stories have fallen away – punctured. I notice that next to our house there is a large enclosed area: a beautiful church is there. Its energy reminds me of Corfe Castle in Dorset

*

Before I fall into deep restful sleep, it dawns on me that that white Yurt is such a great image and symbol of a healed root-chakra: the parents and the babies, held and nurtured, bathing in the safety of the white yurt, with playful red balloons and a birdlike messenger from Heaven

 

Sunday  October 12

The Drowning

Sunday, in the morning, I dosed off, and when I awoke, the old agony was there. As usual. I heard “get up” and I would not listen: I was utterly convinced that only sleep could make it better. I was wrong

Sitting with the little Child in the morning, again going into my pelvis and the two lower chakras, I saw an image of a child bursting up from deep down in the sea, gasping for air – oh my God, the agonized feeling in the morning is just Child’s constant companion – “I am drowning – I am going under – and nobody cares.”

I talk to her – reminding her that I am with her in this. After a while, a feeling of death arises – a place where nothing moves or lives, desolated, isolated . At first, I sense irritation – and then, seeped in Grace, it is clear that this is the outskirts of Loneliness – the deepest feeling in the specter of separation.

I feel a surge of release and gratefulness: we have found the outskirts of it, now is the time to dive in.

And we dive.

It is intensely visceral. First the nothingness – the stifled never -voiced cries for help – the hopelessness – the toxic ice needles throughout the body – the fear of being suffocated by violent men’s too big penises – the girl realizes that she does not die, since she is aware of it all – she is what can not die – at this point everything flows easy, and no more dissociation.She hears:

What do you want?

I don’t want this!

SAY IT AGAIN

And there is her voice and her will -!

I – adult Leelah – sense it with all my body: this is my will and I mean it.

Now comes the hatred and rage, like a volcano from her: “I want to shove this penis down God’s throat so he experiences what he wanted me to experience.” Her language is crystal clear, her hatred and violence as well – as well as the details. The venom pours out, all the thoughts and images are just experienced and allowed = forgiven – and suddenly we sense that there is  radiant clear light around us

Like awakening from a nightmare.

I knew about this hatred and fear of God intellectually – the Course really drives that in  – but this was experience. Now I test-drove my new racing car!

She tells me that she needs to rest now, and Jesus sits down with her and they are playing a game with glass pearls.

Thank you Holy Spirit for the clear demonstration that the hatred and violence comes from one false thought in the mind: that God is a cruel God who sees us as sinful and guilty and subjects his children to unnameable cruelness and punishment.

The victim and perpetrator are forever two sides of the same coin: the belief in separation – and separation is happening each moment I believe that I am anything else than the Light and Love He has created me to be.

This Light of Awareness is Who I Am

 

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.

 

 

 

I AM LOVE

Very early morning, great forgiveness-lesson:

An intense pain in the left sinus-channel  led to a memory of a doctor who rammed a steel pin up this channel to clear the charge of a sinus inflammation. I was maybe 10. He did not bother to use anesthetics. He told me to sit with that pin for 20 minutes -and I went right into the old pattern: “ Do not utter a sound, do not show any sign of discomfort or suffering.”

Deep relief surged through me as I forgave myself for using the doctor to punish myself, and to fortify the old pattern of me as a tortured person. Seeing clearly the enormous power of the mind: The Holy Son of God’s choice for ego as its teacher, and then all the stories being played out in the world, proving that I was a separate being and not Gods Holy Son. Crystal clear I now knew that the thought “I am guilty and must be punished” was there before all the incarnations of my soul – and now, all I had to do, was to forgive this thought that I had ever been separate from my Father in Heaven.

The Love that filled me was all encompassing: I knew my true identity:

I AM LOVE

The I fell asleep again and dreamed:

I was having dinner with both my mother and father in my own house. My mother and I were embracing: I was about 30 years I guess, she was just a little older. “I love you I love you I love you!” I exclaimed, and she said “me too” – and “you have really changed!” I said” This is how I have always been – behind all the roles I plaid in our family.

The karma between us – GONE

The father – um, there was still a bit of insanity about him – but the crazy kind that I love, that of the unpredictable Trickster. I was preparing sausages for dinner, and gave my father the job of presenting the dish. He put the sausages in a basket – like a nest – adorned with pastel yarn-skeins and M&Ms!

*

I put the day in God’s hands, and was led in a beautiful flow, always in the moment. I wrote a new chapter of the Hilaryon saga, where I was led to incorporate old stories and poems in this new one, and enjoyed the writing immensely. I posted it – and a few seconds later, I got a “like” from someone following this blog. I went to his blog and read today’s post – called: I AM LOVE

Changing dreams

What  wonderful experience: ugly scary stressful dreams where I or others are mean, controlling, hateful and freaked out to each other, now correce themselves while I am dreaming. I recently saw a movie where an arabic young mother  screamed and cussed at a little baby of 1,5 years because she did not use the potty. The mother called her all kinds of bad words – dirty, bad girl, stupid – and the little baby that was used as an actor looked bewildered and sad and anxious. I hated what they did to the child, and I hated the mother for using this method of potty-training. I judged her with all my heart.

In tonight’s dream I had become this mother, screaming at my daughter: metaphysics tells us that what we condemn, we become. Lots of my family was present, and we fought.Really fought.

Then it all melted – and we all loved each other and showed it.

This is the second dream lately where these patterns have played themselves out – showing me that a healing component in my mind itself corrects the false ideas I have of unrest.

Inner and outer landscapes

This night the cramps were unbelievable – and what helped was strongly denying the truth of the thought “there CAN be darkness that  can hurt me”. The thought was recognized as false, and the cramps abated gradually.
This morning they were back, and I sat down with them. An insight came: the origin of this came from the womb. I “saw” the fetus in the womb where there were strong tensions and subconscious intense fear from the mother – I “saw” the baby/”me” screaming  a lot  -and my father’s intense anger at these signs of needs and pain. I forgave myself for dreaming this, i forgave the father and the mother and whatever baggage they carried with them that manifested as tremendous defense against expressions of pain and need – and the impressions they had got which they now transferred and projected on the new baby  – maybe the first “law” I accepted as true:

“There is something WRONG WITH being in pain. One should be painfree and needfree = perfect.”

I forgave the beliefs and asked H.S to come into my mind and heal what I have made. I also sat with that”repressed” baby, blessed it and experienced it crying in relief. Tensions abated.

I realize that there is so much inside my mind that simply is terrified to relax – because that would mean that it would be open to to these terrible tensions that have been repressed. So I decide that when these old tensions/cramps come up in this NOW, I will deny that their psychological origin/cause is real – but I WILL acknowledge that as long as it seems to be present, my forgiveness will both acknowledge that I have made this, and I am willing to be wrong about it – and also accept as much as possible the cramps themselves – realizing that this is coming up to be released, it is on its way “out” so to say.

And “The origin comes from the womb” may of course be read as ” the origin of these pains comes from believing the Tiny Mad Idea of believing in the possibility of separation from Source.

And it needs presence – and patience with my self.

This is the way that seems the most loving.

*

And today’s fun: I am following a great blog – Living Europe  and suddenly saw how their descriptions of these hidden/unknown landscapes are exact metaphors of the explorations we do of our inner world and its landscapes:

There are some places which need to be visited discreetly, on tiptoe, and there are some communities who have always struggled to jealously safeguard their identity, especially when it’s the result of centuries of unique cultural merging. These are not sites every tourist can reach. But, if you are passionate travelers who are moved by curiosity and respect for diversity, this tiny village may be the perfect next landmark in your journey.

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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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