Fear’s creation

I live in a little road with houses in a row on each side. We have flat roofs, and they need new roofing. We agree that if we hire a firm to do it for both our rows, that would be the cheapest.

This has awoken really bad nightmares in me. When my father almost lost his factory and livelihood the first time – and a second time, when it sank into quicksand – I remember his agony, the tremendous fear of my parents, and as a child of 9 I made a vow never to have to deal with houses and money myself, since it obviously led to disaster.

So now the mind immediately got fired with retelling these old stories, and telling myself that now I must make NO mistakes, or I would subject my neighbors to disaster. I knew it was an old thought and pattern, but it stuck intensely to my identity. Last night I started to fantasy- all the things that could happen and must NOT happen – and because I resisted them so vehemently, they for sure were going to happen – all in technicolor and surround sound.

So what happened this morning? My oldest neighbor rang my doorbell and told me that the neighbor next to me had had moving cleaners at her house – meaning that she must either be at an institution or hospital or dead. ( She really IS old and sick.) I recognized my fantasy from the night, and thought “see what you have made!” Guilt was what I had made. My old neighbor told me how scared he was that we might have to wait with doing that repair a whole year, until my closest neighbor house was sold – and I registered that he was just voicing my own fears – “but that does not mean that they are not true” said the warning voice. I saw how I saw that voice as my savior.

I talked to my other neighbors, and suggested we sign a paper where we all stated our cooperation and willingness to have new roofs and pay for them. They praised me for my wisdom :), we signed, I left them and I just took a peek inside my closest neighbor’s window – and there she was, her flat still fully furnished, watching TV. I rang her bell and she turned her head a little and shrugged and refused to move.

So I fetched the other old neighbor, he signed the paper too and was very embarrassed by his mistake – and we went to her window and banged it. She saw us and pretended to fall asleep. Now I had gotten really frantic – “open you old stubborn bitch you” ( no, not out loud) and she suddenly turned around and screamed.

So we went away.

I knew when I was alone again that I was caught in a paranoid pattern, I prayed deeply to see this differently, to get helped to disconnect from this old story. I called her son who never takes his phone – he is one of our country’s most popular artists – and he answered my first ring. I told him that his mother’s neighbors needed her to sign the paper – he told me that he was in fact going to visit her the same evening, and would see to it.

Still the fantasies were vicious and intense, I was certain she would refuse to sign just to spite me and punish me for banging. Still, I prayed and forgave and at the same time doubted my prayers.

Just some 15 minutes ago, a big bag of newspapers that I had put out to be fetched the following day was blowing away. I went out  – and in exactly the same second, Mickey came out from his mothers house with the signed paper. To put in my mailbox.

We looked at each other and laughed – me in my pajamas. What a timing.

And what a superdetailed story I had made – and believed in – and STILL, what I had feared the most, DID NOT HAPPEN.

And now I am fully ready to go back to that time where my parents thought that all was lost – and the crazy energy that I picked up on. Listen to little Leelah, what she made that mean. And at last let it go.

How super clear I have witnessed how we create our world and life – and how willingness to doubt it create miracles

Dismantling the costume


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


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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