White horses in the night

Dream

Dark night in the snowy wood. No flashlight, but feeling confident. Not cold. Suddenly, there is a glowing bowl of fire under the snow. It rolls! It knows where it goes, it knows it purpose! A wind of freedom soars through the wood, and there are horses – all shining white in the darkness – , they run 3 feet OVER the snow, oh, their manes – alive  – they know their purpose too –

Then I am out of the wood, and it is seven to nine -still light, no snow here – is it day or night, i don’t know –

right behind me are soldiers, and they seem more like freedom fighters, not serving the government – they have blown up something, and the building beside me is the Police Department, or is it the Ministry of Defense 🙂 I see windows blown up, but the damage seems “civil” to me – done with consideration 🙂

The  white horses are surely in team with the disruptors

*

Last night I followed a teleclass with Zach Rehder –

this is a wonderful demonstration of how his work dismantles old defense patterns. Afterwards, I felt completely overwhelmed, and very close to panic. So I sat myself down and asked for help – breathed into the feelings/sensations, and heard: ” Fill your heart with Love for this scared little part of you.” As I did, it became so clear that I AM this Love and not the scared part. The scared part had come to life because of belief  in separation in my mind – and seen from this loving ME, it was a thought I forgave – it seemed silly.

I remembered my Identity in God, and I forgave my fear-creations and my identification with them all – look where it has brought me – to this sacred moment 🙂

The sensations in the body-mind, that before always have led to psychotic episodes or months of panic and anxiety, this time was seen as an unreal creation with no power except the one I had given it by believing in it

I went to bed, I rested in God

and then the dream happened

Now, the further work – to truly embrace the fear-energies when they come – and forgiving myself if I start to believe in their stories again

Squahed centipede

My son I law is 50 next summer. I have planned a gift which will honor him as a father,friend,dancer and Lieutenant Colonel. I had made numerous ideas, sketches and intuitions on some papers, and hid them when he came visiting. Today a new great idea came, and I could not find those darn papers.

I noted with interest how I instantly went into the old well-known mode of hating myself as the first correct thing to do. Then came the disaster stories – and gradually,  the idea that these somehow belonged to “me.” I watched “me” getting really angry, looking and watching everywhere, noticing the sensations becoming murky and acidly in the body. And decided that it was enough of that – and found myself telling myself that I looked forward to finding those papers and smiling and that it would happen in perfect timing.

Then I found myself open a cupboard which was a very illogic place for putting papers – and there they were, on top of a stack of plates.

It took 3 seconds from I stated my new intention to I found them

It is possible that I will drop the drama next time I search for something

*

Now, a dream from last night:

I am cleaning the space around my child’s bed – she is about 12 in the dream. Lots of old dust  around the head side of the bed –  beanpoles, centipedes – creepy crawlies, the Native Indians call them. Both my daughter and I hate hate hate creepy crawlies.

A centipede runs away from the bed – it senses that I am out to hate and kill, and runs. I find a stick and hit it. Again and again. It is disgusting, it bursts, but it still is alive, and I hate what I am doing but in my mind there is no alternative to creepy crawlies than to kill them and the more I hit the bigger it grows. It now has the distinct head of a porcupine.

I wake up

The more I tried to kill it /resists it, the bigger it grows…yes, I just made it real by resisting it. All the self-hatred and disgust that the Son of God has believed is his identity as a separated  somebody is projected into a world of forms where we now can watch what we have created: now the disgust and self-hatred is projected on the “other” – but as our bodies also are just thoughts in the One mind projected out, our bodies also hide our self-hatred and disgust and shame to a certain degree and put it into muscles,bones and blood

What is Cancer, if not cells attacking other cells in the same body?

What is illness, if not projecting our guilt and perceived sinfulness into our body? We have our own crawlies inside as bacteria. Some  are “good”, some are bad – the body could not live without the “good” ones – yet it is just a reflection of the basic ego thought of kill or be killed.

Good God what a thought-system we believe in – no wonder we fear a god who could be thought to create such a world

I am lying in bed and allowing the ravaging pains in the body — and forgiving myself for believing in the first Tiny Mad Idea

Violently repressed and denied, now sensed inside this body – kept there until I am willing to take the projection back and see that it is just a false thought, part of the insane thought system of the ego.

Waves of sickness and shooting pains rise to the surface – is seen through and released

I remember the image of the growing centipede’s body being smashed to pulp and still, agonized, living – but  seen now, although it appeared completely real, it was just a dream.

This is how the world was – and is – made, ac.to the Course: we believed in the tiny mad idea-thought and took it seriously – and then, using the will God has given us with its all-encompassing power, it becomes our perception and experience.

It is all Maya, appearances

It feels like I am bathed in sweet mercy lying here and just allow what goes on in the muscles – not resisting anything of it – allowed now, to be, to be released

And also seeing that REAL, IT IS NOT – just as the squashed body of the centipede morphing into a porcupine was not REAL, but an image from my mind projected into my dream.

As long as we believe these images are real it becomes our experience

It is an image, believed in – representing false thoughts about shame and violence – just as the world is an image of separation, believed in and experienced as real – and I love to notice that as I go back to the mind and forgive the images I/we have made, with the power God has given me/us, the world becomes beautiful

The image of the porcupine touches me deeply, and allows me to see yet another mechanics of repression: outside our home where I lived from  I was 2-6 years, porcupines were flattened by cars each day. My cousin and I shoveled them up and buried them in our garden, and sung very sad psalms for them. It comforted me: my own experience of being crushed daily was reflected in the spiky squashed bodies, and the psalms felt purifying. Now at least, the pain was expressed – and at the same time, I could keep the terrible fact hidden, that it was me that was crushed.

Well – that is the psychological reason. The real reason, as non dualism sees it – is the deep unconscious guilt in the mind from believing we had left Heaven and deserved all  possible punishment

Reminding myself again: it is a dream

And I truly want to wake up and recognizing mySelf as the One dreamer

*

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Ground Floor

A wondrous awakening is happening. After the nightly session on Skype with Barbara, a knowing established itself: that whatever seemed to happen in thoughts,feelings and sensations/fantasies/pain etc DOES NOT MATTER – it is a dream, it is not real, and I – True Self -is untouched.

I sense an underlying state of consciousness – or level of mind – words are not good here -where I AM with God, as One. I see and experience it NOW as NOW. Sinking into it there is deep rest – and also there is awareness of much resistance in “the upper floors.” That does not matter – whatever goes on there is like a movie, a shadow-play in Plato’s Cave.

What this does for me is removing guilt effortlessly: guilt is from this “level” now seen to belong to the identity of the shadow-players – and extra layer of guilt is placed on most thoughts of the shadow-players. But from the ground floor these thoughts are seen as meaningless – belonging to a script.

The last night was fear-free. Oh the bliss of that! I had a dream that I was surrendering my body to float in a wonderful sea – and in that moment of surrender I received a kiss! I opened my eyes, and looked at my Godfather.

Now, the ego intervened very quickly and the dream turned into a fantasy of my this-life-Godfather fancying me, which was very disconcerting – but when  I awoke, the symbolism was not lost.

Today I was blessed again: seeing the movie Monsieur Lazhar. 

Both the teacher and the class had PTSD – and now,having a “ground-floor” – experience, I saw them all acting out the shock and denial that is part of the PTSD – and it was possible to see all those feelings AND feel them – without getting identified with them. I was crying with release, and was blessed with an experience of complete and utter beauty and truth.

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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