Guides and Angels

I have had hundreds of dreams where I am on my way home. Penniless, maps lost, seemingly stuck in isolation . Quite a nightmare.

So I asked my angels and spiritual guides to show up in my dreams. And lately, I have had wonderful helpful “people” showing me the way, helping me in any way conceivable. When I wake up, I marvel at their kindness, and the feeling that they are old friends really –

-and today I know: they are my angels of course!

Happy sigh

***

And a recent poem:

The worried boy

You have wanted it to end
for a while
maybe years to be honest
and better be honest when it
comes to the end

The end shall be clear
and make an impact you say.
No mess to mop up after you
No wrinkly sweaty sheets
and God forbid, no worry-face-boy

But the ocean rises outside
the pretty-please curtains
and soon it may crash through
your Chippendale chairs
and the Ming Ming Ming

And what about
your scout diploma with acorns
moans the worried boy within .
and the criss crossed cones
and the faded red badge:

Lone Wolf Tribe

The most obnoxious man in the world

I dreamt about him this night – and I am so happy!!! that I now have this energy clear and distinct inside me so I can relate to it with healing instead of my usual full reaction: hate, fear, rage, disgust, terror, judgment, and extreme resistance.

This is truly an archetype of the stalker/abuser who lures children/people to them: they are SO “kind” and SOOO helpful, and you just feel a twitch in your stomach but you are caught in the costume of the little bird being hypnotized by the snake, who hisses: “There you go – yes, YES take a step onto my lovely tounge here SO I CAN SWOLLOW YOU ALIVE!!! ( Evil snake-laughter here.)

Know this once and for all: abusers can “dress up” as incredibly kind and helpful and NICE and even loving. And still, you most probably ALSO felt a signal from inside that was NOT pleasurable. And here is starts – we push our own instincts back to earn love – and we only learn to do that from parents who have learned it too.

Due to indescribable happenings through my first 18 years – and 30 years in my therapy-practice –  I know that ANYBODY with abuse in their story will carry the scars of their own perceptions and repressed memories and images, and they will go on projecting them on everyone they see – until they realize what has happened and WANT to heal and wake up. A Course in Miracles teaches ways to change our perception: we are taught and trained to ask for help by the Holy Spirit ( or any other word you would like – like The Dude or the Buzz that Pam Grout calls it )- since you may agree that the name God carries more baggage that the Chicago Airport ( also a quote by Pam Grout.)

I love the name Holy Spirit, though – since it is easy for me to find that Spirit as the essence of everything alive. And that includes the snake-man: inside is something that cannot be corrupt – something that he has learned and been shown  how to hide and he has learned it from other people who also have learned it.

Well – I did the thing I have been taught to do by The Holy Spirit /Jesus / the Universe/ the Joyful One etc etc – I blessed the image of the dream-man in his original innocence, his childlike joy and playfulness, everything opposite of the disgusting form. I blessed myself in my willingness to see through his form, to find his sacred essence and holiness and recognize it as mine.

Then I went into the living room and found a stack of colored cards  where I the last 30 years have noted truths and beauty, and pulled out this one:

” I will not give you power to scare me anymore.My holiness blesses and releases this pattern from my mind; I have used it to hide form God’s Love. God is not fear, but Love. I deny fear’s hold on me – fear has not the power to take the peace of God away.

Fear has not the power to take the peace of God away that was what I needed to see. Since my human child-experience certainly was that fear was MUCH stronger than God – and that it all meant that there had to be something weird about “me” that these happenings kept happening.

That belief has electromagnetically pulled to me more abuse – and taught me to abuse/devalue myself – as most victims do without blinking an eye.

And it was the mechanisms of all of this that causes me to start my therapy practice in 1988 – “How do we participate in creating this? and what can be done to heal it?”

You will find the results in my three books in the right menu – above all “When Fear Comes Home to Love”

For me and my patients and students, the path goes through play, painting, storytelling, poems, dance – and the forgiveness lets us see everything with new eyes: the perpetrators are really scared-to-death- little children that cry out for love – deep deep down inside.

That does NOT mean that we condone the acts. But when I ask for help to see the inner child of the perpetrator, he WILL pick it up on some level – and MAY feel that first push to stop his crazed behaviour. And I will be freed of MY hatred – which only hurts ME.

When you click on the books, you will get to reviews that can help you find out how others have been affected. I would truly love to share them with you too

 

Inner Images and Sounds

Hi all

This blog shares my explorations with my mind, memory and body – to dissolve and release imprints of trauma in the cells. I have been shown clearly that any symptom comes from a memory of trauma that had to be stacked away when it happened – I have great respect for those parts of me that hid those parts. Through deep love and non-judgment for these parts, they have opened up for me – and today I will share how a deep inner itching – “Shingles” – came from inner images and sounds that my mind and heart could not be present too – as they at that time were far too frightening and threatening.

We all have those places. It is my experience that sending love to them is possible and healing.

In When Fear Comes Home to Love, I share my path through almost 30 years of explorations – with myself and my patients in therapy. When I sat up in the night when the itching was too overwhelming, I asked for help and opened the book randomly – always trusting that Spirit leads my fingers. They landed here:

Exercise: Giving is receiving

The images we store in our subconscious of the Fuckeat-attacks***, still have the power to put us in a permanent position of alert. This exercise may heal the inner enemy-image, and help us see the scared child within the aggressor – calling for help, just as our own inner Child.

Sit, or lie down. Close your eyes. Allow your breathing to become slow and deep. Put your focus on your heart for a while; know that your loving essence waits for you there. Breathe into this love, expand it. Feel and see it as a light within your heart that expands, embracing you in a cocoon of loving light.

Now visualize your abuser in front of you. If that is too scary, visualize him/her in the arms of their guardian angel. Look for a light-spot within him. When you find it, allow it to expand, until it surrounds him like a cocoon. Now see, within his heart, the image of his own inner child. See the child becoming aware of the light s/he is surrounded by. See her/him relax.

Go with whatever happens.

If you want to, allow the two light-spheres to merge. Remind yourself that the image you see within the light-sphere is a mirror of your own inner child.

Give whatever happens over to the Holy Spirit, or your own Highest Love.

***”Fuckeat” is the name I have given the enemy-archetype of the abuse-variety.

We all have our own inner guides of Spirit. When you faithfully do this work, they will arrange the most wondrous and funny synchronicities for you,, as they do for me.

After having worked a couple of hours in the night with embracing the energies and letting go of some of the images, a completely new sensation filled my chest and solar plexus-area. A feeling of safety the body never has felt in this life. And I had a great dream:

I am having a medical procedure in a hospital The doctor is the epitome of kindness and gentleness. After this, the door opens and a multitude of small children swarm in. I run around and call out: I am a love magnet! And whenever I touch a child, I tell it that now it is glued to me. There is a huge joy in this silly game, and I end up being in the middle of a large heap of giggling children

When I open my door to get the paper in the morning, a child has painted this heart right outside of my door:

I love to end this post with a poem I wrote recently:

The Last Judgment

First
The curve and fragrance of the cupola
The sweetness and dependability of the milk
The age old rhythm of the heartbeat

Landing

Belonging

Middle
You and me in the blue boat
Calm vast sea
Resting in the here – membrane
Between above and below
Looking and knowing
Smiling

Last
Being quietly present all the time
In dreams and awakenings
The knowing:
The Last Judgment
Is Love

 

Blackbird

 

Latest fun synchronicity.

I wrote a poem in my flash-poetry group.  The form is called ‘Specular’, after the Latin for a ‘mirror’, because the second half of the poem uses the same lines as the first, but in reverse order, as if the whole thing is looking back at itself in a mirror.

SPRINGSONG
 

When you don’t know where to go and what to do
sit down and do nothing.
Breathe the calm unfluttering air
and watch the blackbird sucking it all in and swallow it.
Then allow the song to be exhaled in a musical way

while you look at a little boy
and watch the happy dog running over the green green field
then get up and breathe that song back inside
you did a great job indeed,
tell yourself that you did a great job
breathing that joyful song out

Breathing that joyful song out
tell yourself that you did a great job
you did a great job indeed,
then get up and breathe that song back inside
and watch the happy dog running over the green green field
while you look at a little boy

Then allow the song to be exhaled in a musical way
and watch the blackbird sucking it all in and swallow it.
Breathe the calm unfluttering air
sit down and do nothing.
When you don’t know where to go and what to do

****************

You will notice that a blackbird stars in it. And the fun thing is, last week i took a hike in the nearest wood. It is a circular trip, I can choose which way I want to.  Just as I was about to leave the main dirt-trail and enter the wood, I spotted this black wonder.

The Blackbird is my favorite singer in the whole wide world – no-one touches my heart like it. And now it was just 2 meters away. I sneaked my cellphone up, and the minute I clicked the camera, she flew away.

Yesterday, one week later, same day, I walked the same path – but the opposite direction – just like the poem. And now, as I was exiting the wood, at the exact same place, by the exact same spruce, she was there again. This time I prayed to the god of blackbirds and managed to take a photo.

 

When I am dead – poem

I am writing this in the the style of e.e.cummings whom I love a lot.

when i am dead and

you pour my ashes under that

special writing bush

i had when i was six

i loved to write stories

 

then and afterwards

if you take a spoon

with ashes a spoon

is enough and

 

if you were an elephant

then would you place your

foot on it and rock tenderly

on it and would you

hold you trunk over it

and blow softly

 

when I am dead

Receiving my Self

I wrote two poems these last days. I knew I liked them a lot – and I wanted to RECEIVE them with all of me.

I stood up, stretched my arms up  toward Self and prayed to be helped RECEIVING MY SELF, the beauty and bubbling creativity that comes through me.

AND IT CAME! Rushes of bliss flowed through me, intense joy and gratitude without bounds

AT LAST  RECEIVED ♥

My Others

Moanie Molly is mean on Mondays

frivolous on Fridays and

satyrical on Saturdays

 

Pretty-bow Prune tinkers with truth

on Tuesdays and

tortures toddlers on Thursdays with

a terrible smile of too- twinkling -teeth

 

Wednesday is my day – Woolly Wendy

is my wame. I call them in through

my windows of welcome

I wind them warmly into my

wet and woolly wembrace,

tucking them in, wriggling and wailing

wrapping them up in well-meaning waffle words

 

Sunday is sublime-day.

All of us together.

Singing in the supersonically choir of sunflowers,

Visiting soothsayers and sweet-shocked solicitors,

Swimming in star shined seas of sovereign surprises,

Summoning slithering salamanders

and cute little ducks.

Then we go home

and sleep the slumber of

sincere sinners

and saints

*

OTHER

You think you can avoid me

Climbing the highest mountain

I am your  holy ground

Diving the profoundest depths

I am the reflective surface

Traveling straight forward

I am the tail you bite

You look at me and shiver at the

Dark mask

And I am looking at you through the slits,

Stretching my arms out towards you

You see threat

I see you

Heart  broken open

No other

 

 

 

 

 

 

Poemcrazy

What is happening for me now –

Sometimes – maybe twice a week or more – I meet somebody’s eyes and we both are completely present and awake. “Foreigners”, that is. And they all feel like the oldest bestest friends. We never stop, I’ve noticed – just a 2-3-second eye-soul contact, deep peacefulness and joy, and then the habit takes our feet away.

But the imprint of love and joining is as strong NOW as it was when it happened – just fully remembering Who we are.

In the night, the dreams are chaotic and very very unpleasant and tiring. But when i get up and abide as Christ, I ask what belief lies under all of that. Then i realize that earlier,this belief was helping me stay “protected” from saying something and causing dangerous situations – so I thank that pattern, own it. and see that it is not valuable any longer.

Today I sat like this in the five-minutes abiding as Christ  – which turned into 3/4 hour – and at some point, a river of toxicity left my brain through my temples or ears in two streams.

Afterwards I felt I had lost about 20 pounds

*
Today I got a new book by Susan Wooldridge:  Poemcrazy. When I was sitting with it, the doorbell started co-cooing like crazy – 6 times, and then a seventh while I was looking at it through the window. THIS IS FOR YOU. DO IT!

Oh yes I will – funny thing is. I have done so many of this word-games she describes in earlier workshops. And now, I am back -and I will find somebody to play with 🙂

Recent poem:

Choices

Left road:

Rain on Monday evenings between 19-21
Military marches for small men with big dogs on Wednesdays
Digging holes for manure Fridays
Flag rising on Sundays, only on municipal buildings
No singing on Thursdays
Whistling: never
Red clothes only Saturday evening after 7pm
Weeping and gnashing of teeth 10 minutes after 5pm each day

Right road:

Moonlight serenades by small insects with lighted bottoms
Checkered dresses and flowered suits whenever
Pink bubbly and chocolate mousse whenever
Nothing matters
Ever
Nothing changes
Ever

Turn around.
Wait for the little red and yellow copter
*

Life Loves Me

The gratefulness I feel right now is enormous

The methods I use and teach as a healer, beside Expressive Arts Therapy, are A Course in Miracles and Spontaneous Transformation Technique©

Yet another digital thingy has helped me lately – my readers will remember  the out-door lamp and the door bell – is the timer on my cell phone! I have used it to time a five minutes x 3-meditation in lesson 3  in The Way of Mastery – and it has done weird things: I sit and wait for the timer to ring – and it does not – and I sit and wait and wait – and it does not ring …

So I open it to look how many minutes I have left, since it feels I have sat there for 10 minutes at least – and the second I grip the phone to open it, it rings.

The two first times this was fun – but now, after this repeating for the last 4 weeks, today I got the idea to watch the TV-clock in front of me. Sure enough, it showed 10 minutes as I sat there waiting for the timer to sound the five-minute-signal.

I was aware that what I started out with today, was the tremendous feeling of pressure and force, OCD-like – I HAVE TO “get” this – control this – understand this. And I sat as Christ with it, allowing it to be there,truly wanting to be guided to realize what the gift was.

These obsessive-compulsive feelings have laid my creative life barren for the last two months: I have been stuck in believing I have to produce a creative “result” – a painting, a sculpture, a poem – instead of enjoying myself playing and watching where it wants to go. Everything has shut down, coalesced into a hard ball of compulsion, no joy whatever,  life becoming dull and pale as a tepid puddle

Now -the cellphone behavior has stayed that way until I at last today KNOW what that time-weirdness was FOR: Yet another digital way my Universe  shows me that I AM SAFE. I am taken care of – I can trust this, and therefore trust the process, completely.

The moment I realized, I left the Christ meditation and found that part of me who had needed to hold on to this compulsive self-coercion as a way to survive. I asked where it could be found in my body: left lung. I went there and saw this terrified one who needed to control herself completely after severe trauma in order to stay safe inside her family. The moment I discovered her and told her that I saw her and was there for her, the energetic connection was made. The dams of grief broke. She saw she was not alone any longer. I acknowledged to her that it had been a vital choice to make when she was little – it would have been dangerous to be open about this in the family – she would not have been heard at all. As long as nobody would see and hear and listen to her, this was a wise choice to take. Holding on to this, creating this pattern, has kept us alive and functioning – and now is the glorious moment to let it out and express, with me as her loving companion.

So she did the best thing she could at that time: making a decision to control ,repress, push away whatever reminded her of the agony.  NOW – with me – she was no longer alone, the spell could be dissolved.

And so we dissolved it – I encouraged her to feel the fear and anger and express in any way she wanted and needed, while I was witnessing it all from a neutral and all-loving observer-state – like a fairy godmother maybe. You know these godmothers – they love us and support us, but will never interfere with our feelings, they trust us completely to have the strength and wisdom necessary to go through life – into the desert and out again. Some even does that in 40 days. I have used a bit longer.

There came a moment where she discovered that the LOVE that embraced her was stronger than the original trauma, and the beliefs unwound beautifully.

I asked her then, what did she need now – after all of this?

Pause. “That you don’t get mad if I fall back into the control-pattern.”

Realizing, that only if I believed that to be serious, I would be in trouble – just being aware that “oh, there I go again, no biggie” would be just fine.

Watching how the ego wants guilt and punishment to strengthen its hold on us

 

Now I checked out the cellphone timer again in 5 minutes –  meditation. Twice. The timer behaving like other timers – signaling after five minutes. What does this mean?

OH! here comes rushes of spiritual energy! It means I am looked after! This is the third time God has shown me She uses whatever means to show me that I am NOT a separated traumatized human being.

The first was my outdoor lamp that lightens automatically when it is dark. Whenever it did not, for 3 years, I could stand there and look at it and find whatever darkness in me at that moment that I believed was true – and acknowledge it and forgive myself – and the light went on.

The second was the electronic door-bell, who the last year has co-cooed in a different way than when one pushes the button – it co-coo’es when nobody is there. Except I now know that my Self is there, each time letting me know to put everything I do away, sit down and pay attention to the energies that wants to come through and be released

The third – all good things go by threes – is today, my cellphone-timer. It took me just one month to see it this time.

All of this – through the last 5 years – to help me see that I am taken care of

It pretty well takes care of the separation-conviction!

It shows me: in each and every situation where “things happen,” I have the choice to how I want to relate to it. As a victim – oh this is too serious, I am being punished, I must have done something to deserve this, I haven’t done “enough “ (therapy, work on myself, exercise blah) – or as creator:

This has come up for me to see and love. I acknowledge that something happened sometime  – in this or other lives / in other dimensions of the multidimensional hologram of the universe, that caused me to make beliefs and draw conclusions from what happened – and what they all have in common is the root-belief of the human: I am on my own here. Every man for himself. Love and acknowledgments must be earned from others/ the outside.

As soon as I turned toward that compulsive obsessive controller inside with curiosity and love, she led me straight back to Source – and then the Outer ( this time the cell-phone) mirrored my new – and true – perception. As soon as I saw the real meaning of the cellphone-behavior, it turned back to normal.

*

Back to the little one in the left lung:

I asked her to imagine out how it would feel to truly KNOW that the pattern was gone, that is was absolutely safe – just pretending , just playing –

She told me it would feel so safe

And how does it feel to feel so safe?

Like life is safe for me –  life is simple – life loves me! LIFE LOVES ME!

I sat as the observer and allowed the energy of this belief to flow through me – LIFE LOVES ME

And we had a little ceremony where she said three times with me I AM LOVED BY LIFE, claiming it and owning it

 

 

The Blue Hole

The deep chest pain and cough was particularly nasty this morning. I prayed deeply and sincerely for help to see this differently. I got up, and found myself looking at a book in the shelf above my head. I got the message, pulled it out. It was a journal, 29 years old, from my first training in Sweden in Expressive Arts Therapy.

I had no idea I had done that. And that I had not seen it before! I opened the first page, and read about an exercise we did the second day: “Who am I now?” Paint it.

This “I” had the day before been initiated into a shamanic journey through 4 years, and the opening into all this “new” exercises ( but not new to my Soul 🙂 felt like an earthquake. Maybe cataclysm is a better word.

In that image, there were two parts – a childlike playful colorful one, and a chaotic threatening one.

And then, there was an opening. Kind of a “hole.” That hole was the only thing I liked – 29 years ago. We were told to enlarge the one detail we loved the most, and I happily painted it again. I needed to have it clean. It was filled with BLUE. I wrote under the sketch in the journal:

I need my hole. It sits in the chest region. It has to do with the throat chakra

THIS is what I am shown: what I have seen as something I hate and want to get rid of – for about 30 years – is something I have told myself I needed when I grew up.

It is not something bad to get rid of – it is a huge gift, to be unwrapped delicately!

The moment I withdraw all my judgments of the wound – and the ways I have “protected it” and built shells around it – tears flowed like Niagara.

I sit with it, and the familiar almost-fainting state appears. For the first time I truly realize that it is not something “wrong” with me, health wise – it is a unraveling of old tight holdings around my heart. It was something I needed then– in order to feel safe.

I do not know more for the time being – other than that this is such a wonderful process – and i let myself off the hook for not having discovered it until now: things had to happen first, to prepare the way.

*

A poem today – this way of writing has been deeply healing for me

 

Easter and Wester

 

Easter is a town in the land of Tobble

It is to the right.

There is a sweet wind there

and a special sunrise

with magenta and lemon-yellow,

and white and pink Praising Birds

who sing hymns in Bird language.

 

Wester is to the left

of Easter

and has sharper wind and broad lanes

for expensive cars.

Easter has eggs in the grass in the ditches

Not all of them are fresh though.

Wester has Weeping Willows with Wlackbirds

and multitudes of Taxidermists

and rather foul air quality on Friday afternoons

 

I much prefer Easter for picnics I must say

Wester is more for nitpicks

but nice if you are rich

and own a limo.

The asphalt is smooth and black

in Wester,

while in Easter there is more walking

on gravel and many places on grass

And there’s the Ocean of course

That counts a lot

*

 

 

 

Selfhatred – and Grace

For new followers:

I started this blog in 2010 as a way to be honest and vulnerable with what was happening to me,  as a sort of diary. A place where I could  help myself and also, by transparency, be of help to others, by just sharing what I experienced on my way to awakening. I forget easily, and it has been very helpful  for me to come to it and read what I have written earlier.

I am a student and teacher of A Course in Miracles, and part of this blog is exploring the blocks that I/humanity/ have put up between ourselves and our true nature – the Self. One of those blocks – or darker energies that we all have, is self-hatred – and under that, a deep belief in unworthiness.

Yesterday I discovered the light that came out of accepting the energy of hatred of a person in my past. That happened when I allowed the energy without judging myself for being bad.

Hatred is based on fear and separation – and still, when we place our belief in it, it becomes real for us. We start to identify with it and tell ourselves ( and are told by our parents/teachers/media from we are born) that worth is something that must be earned and not our true nature.

My spiritual practice is about finding those blocks – flushing them up – being with the energy of them without judgment, forgiving them – forgiving ourselves what we think they have meant about us – and let them go.

This deep deep did I say deep feeling of self-hatred – coming from the belief that we are unworthy – has many layers. This night I was graced with letting go of one of them.

For as long as I can remember, I have dreaded ANY appointment I have had with others – included  the social ones that are supposed to be fun. And with people I loved. Always there was this DREAD when I thought about it – and this night I asked myself, “what do I really desire? “To be happy” I heard. And then: the thought came: “Just BE with the energy of this dread. Relax, and breathe into it.”

All dread vanished, and Grace filled me up.

I saw that the dread was me trying my best for preventing myself from being happy – since the unworthy( me me me) must of course be punished and suffer to be saved. The unworthy does not deserve to have fun and enjoy life. And I thought, that may well be the reason why humanity believes that all joy must be paid with grief/sorrow – like it is a Law of Nature. It is a Law: a Law of separation, living as separated me’s in a world perceived by fear – minded perception.

I rested in my bed, allowing the energy of WORTH to come in – my birthright.It felt like ….the utmost simplicity…i need do nothing to have this – I AM this- I just laid there and allowed myself to be held by Love

The dream that came after this affirmed the shift in my soul: my father, who I have made into a monster, now was completely transformed – all the scary stuff about him was absent. I LIKED him. There was not more fear.

*

And now, another  sillybillynillywilly:

In the knickers of time
This was in the ancient times when time was inserted as a way to perceive for humans – and some person, it might have been me, who later created costumes for plays, got the idea to put knickers on time to make time more substantial – time was far too confusing at first, for the mind that was used to Oneness.
So knickers was a good idea, thought this person, and then time wanted more of course and demanded blouses too – and then wigs and gloves – sigh
time to undress time again I say

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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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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