Lonely Girl in the Heart Comes Alive

In the usual night agony, I heard a clear and no-nonsense voice: sit up right now!

I did, and in a king of whoosh I saw that the carrier of the agony energy was my spiritual ego – the one who has followed 10 Mystery schools  and  a zillion of trainings and and and and still feels this agony/rage/anxiety/death wish/killing lust.

It’s simply the whole “false” identity, the perceived “separate one” – the one who sees herself as NOT healed and worthy and a failure – she is ALL OF THAT.

And after reading Carrie Triffet’s last book – about the importance to completely utterly love the “subterranean self” – or those parts of us we have kept as a secret…that I fully acknowledge her presence, and realize how unavoidable it is to continue AS her. From now on relating TO her – is my intention.

Now, this night, I saw that I was asked to intend to LOVE ALL OF THAT – the whole old package of “the ego though system” as the Course calls it – all those parts of me that I had attached to those thoughts and called MINE and ME.

IT was strange to get up in the morning – it felt different. I could neutrally watch “her” and all her thought patterns – but they did not attach to me. That much. I witnessed her go bananas when she lost something on the floor – for the first time did I allow her to yell and curse and it felt just fine and NEUTRAL. No judgment.

She like very much to be praised for having been such a good girl – and I enjoy doing that, loving her, truly loving her, embracing her with what Carrie calls “the rose-golden Light.”

Bow this is weird and wonderful: the above in blue attached itself here ABOVE the text that I had composed on Word and copied. When I clicked glue in, it came too – helping me realize that what I wrote today was the continuation of the blue text.  Clearly  this is archetypal matter.

Lonely Girl in the Heart

 

In the middle of the Heart

there is a fog of woe and wonder –

so little known to itself,

so dreamingly absorbed in the

layers of illusion.

But look:

it’s floating in the Sun of the heart!

I am so lonely so lonely

and I do not know of my fears –

I sense them only when I am held

but very carefully, or I’ll burst into a million little pieces

someone has stolen my words

and my hopes

but my story is still here

under the layers of centuries.

I have a right to tell the story,

but who are the listeners?

A great light and soft love surround me when I finished writing the above, and a Voice speaks:

Child, listen – I am your mother, Aurora – Queen of the Heart

And I know that She has listened to it all

 

The inner Child is doubting that Aurora is real: “Please give me a sign, Blue – let me see this name within three days!”

Next day I read in the column for TV/radio: “Arcadian radio and The Arcadian Explorer’s editorial Staff continue their trip down Mississippi on the riverboat Queen Aurora.”

*

Today is 23.March 2020 – 22 years after I wrote the above, as a part of my book “When Fear Comes Home to Love”  – and I found the child, the Heart -and -body connection was made, and my whole experience of life has changed.

Before that, earlier today,  I sensed with deep grief that I truly wanted to be grounded – but there has always been something that refuses to be inside the body. I have sensed there is a root connection through my feet and the perineum – but I wanted the feeling/energy of the dissociated child  to be fully incarnated. I prayed deeply for help with this, and suddenly I KNEW that she was HERE – inside me – and the mother of all griefs burst forth. I have never cried like THAT before – completely new quality – now embracing all that loneliness.

Do you know what more is present:

My creativity – and two years of crazy wolf hunger is GONE

JUST GONE

The constant inner strong bumping pulse in the midsection – gone

So now I knew how I feel – and how SHE felt – so I decided to play with her with words. It felt like an adorable little girl of 4 years was present, a separate being – and I communicated with her just as I would do with a girl of flesh and blood.

It was very helpful to have worked with “parts” most of my 30 years as a therapist 😊

She has been behind the wolf hunger – and the impossibility to do anything creative and playful. Now she composed an adorable story about a pig who had the moon inside her and spread moonlight all over her surroundings.

I am aware that this energy of her needs time to solidify and integrate. Of course! Bless her!

 

I feel tired in a healthy way.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Resisting Love

Anybody who has been abused/molested or has been on the perpetrator side,this is for you. You may just be helped a lot by “When Fear Comes Hoe to Love” in the right menu.

Last night in bed, I wanted to link up with Love again – realizing this is a habit that needs reinforcing to build new neural pathways. Big hiccupping started in the solar plexus, and I saw an intense dark resistance there: I will NOT have any connection with Light!

“What do you need?” I asked – remembering my old work with the demonic 25 years ago. I told it “ I am here for you, I am not going anywhere..”

At once I saw the image of myself in the old garden four years old, that I describe in the Chapter BIRD in my book “When Fear Comes Home to Love.” BIRD is the archetype of the one who sees her SOLE worth as being there for everybody else – and not herself, whom she judges wrong and guilty.

It is the archetype that resists the light – as it is anchored and springs from the very belief that it is the opposite of love, and so would be annihilated by it.

I hold the child who identified with the archetype: now: I got you! This is just a memory – what you feel are just coming from your conviction that you are NOT what you are: Pure Light made in God’s Image. And when you put an “I” behind those thoughts, they become your identity.

I see the energy gestalt squirming and fighting, and ask my beloved female illumines Quan Yin, Aurora, Shekinah and Anna to stand around what I called me, and I ask the Legions Of Light to stand at the very entrance of the Solar Plexus Chakra in the spine – and from there shine their light through the Solar Plexus out of the navel. They tell me it will take some time, and that I need to remember to breathe it all out when I notice the discomfort.

The little one that I split off completely sits on my lap and witnesses it, no longer identified with it – like waking up from a thousand years old nightmare

 

 

Lava-anger

What I am describing here is the very essence of torture belonging to anyone who cannot share humongous pain – be it trauma of any kind, abuse,war,illness – the occasion where this goes on continuously and there is no-one who will listen or acknowledge what goes on.

In the case of abuse,the family will not under any circumstances acknowledge it, And as soon as your face shows that there is something going on with you, you are told that ” do you have to look so forlorn – you, who are SO well cared for.

So the circumstances are:

constant abuse of any kind – (could be both inside the family and outside, from others,  as in my case) – and you discover that any signs of “something wrong”  psychologically/mentally are simply not tolerated.  If you get a flu, you may get lots of sympathy – breaking an arm gets you “Oh your poor child” and ice-cream. But ANY signs of inner agony – that anything is “wrong with you” – STOP IT. NO expression at all.

The consequence is that you can never relax. You cannot rest anywhere. You cannot even let yourself know how lonely you are, how terrible all that inner pain is, since it is denied from your closest ones, and consequently by yourself too.

This is how grave splits and dissociation happen in the psyche, and we get cases of severe denial and  “multiple selves” – and this is what I describe in my book you see in the right menu – “When Fear Comes Home to Love.”

Dream this morning:

I was hiking with a group of people to a place where we were to stay and live for some days. The weather was rugged, and I saw that I had only my old (at least 40 years old) red rain jacket on.

When we arrived, I went from room to room to find a free bed (mattresses on the floor.) There were clothes on everyone –  all were taken.

The metaphor: I have no place to rest, to sleep.

Maybe you can  recognize that belief – that feeling deep inside?

I saw clearly HOW repressed my desperation was at that time – due to deep abuse and also sexual torture from several people outside the family. It lasted years. It became the normal. My dream showed me the depth of my repression – and anyone’s repression, in the cases where there simply are no healthy people who CAN notice and care for the children who are victims of this. This kind of total repression goes far back through the ancestral lines – and you who read this may be one of those people who were never HEARD and welcomed and listened to.

After this realization, the underlying lava-anger started to erupt. There were strong murderous feelings and images, I allowed them all, honoring that child  – now I received the images of her hacking people to death: “Of course you has these impulses! This was at least an expression of the anger you felt – and any of us may feel  – when any sign of suffering is simply not allow to SHOW. And I am so grateful you did NOT show them there and them – that would most certainly have been dangerous for you. I am so very sorry for what happened to you, and that led to all your beliefs about who you were ( despicable creature being all wrong, not worthy of being seen and listed to) and all the coping mechanisms that you made, that saved your sanity. But I am here now to hold you and support you and  allow you to express any feelings at all – you have a right to them.NOW you are not alone, I AM HERE with you – and that makes all the difference.”

“I hate GOD!” you wail – “I prayed that God stopped them doing what they were doing, and he did nothing! He is evil! He wants me to suffer! And that must mean that I am guilty!!” and the next thoughts, following from this – ” He is punishing me for something – ” and the next thoughts:  “this punishing may save me from Hell later.”

That last one has a deep impact, I feel. That way of thinking actually draws  opportunities for suffering to me.

My printer is now reflecting this to me: the color blue will not print. (BLUE is what I call inner spiritual guidance in this blog.) Also, the support-plate for the paper will not tilt/lean back – pointing to the fact that it is almost impossible for me to lean back and support myself and all I want to share – symbolized with the printed papers with my words on them.

I am one of those who has actively chosen to see anything that happens as metaphors. It has served me well, and the Universe plays with me here – as now, with the printer. Right now a wave of bliss and laughter wells up in me, and  Blue reminds me of all the occasions where I have discovered that God loves to play. I have included numerous of these short stories in my book – all humorous and peculiar and odd.

Here is a couple:

Blue is playing:

Lesson today in A Course in Miracles: “I am not a body. I am free.”

In the evening, I am looking at “Joan of Arcadia” on TV. Joan’s class is performing a play. Their finale-song goes: “We are not flesh and blood. We are love!”

 

Blue is playing:

“…someone has stolen my words

and my hopes

but my story is still here

under the layers of centuries.

I have a right to tell the story,

but who are the listeners?”

A great light and soft love surrounds me when I finished writing the above, and a Voice speaks:

Child, listen – I am your mother, Aurora – Queen of the Heart

And I know that She has listened to it all

*

My inner child is doubting that Aurora is real: “Please give me a sign, Blue – let me see this name within three days!”

Next day I read in the column for TV/radio: “Arcadian radio and The Arcadian Explorer’s editorial Staff continue their trip down Mississippi on the riverboat Queen Aurora.”

 This is from When Fear Comes Home to Love, Chapter: BIRD

Lonely girl in the heart / poem to image / 1998 /

ill. 13

In the middle of the Heart

there is a fog of woe and wonder –

so little known to itself,

so dreamily absorbed in the

layers of illusion.

But look:

it’s floating in the Sun of the heart!

I am so lonely so lonely

and I do not know of my fears –

I sense them only when I am held

but very carefully, or I’ll burst into a million little pieces

someone has stolen my words

and my hopes

but my story is still here

under the layers of centuries.

I have a right to tell the story,

but who are the listeners?

A great light and soft love surrounds me when I finished writing the above, and a Voice speaks:

Child, listen – I am your mother, Aurora – Queen of the Heart

And I know that She has listened to it all

*

Blue is playing:

“Child” is doubting that Aurora is real: “Please give me a sign, Blue – let me see this name within three days!”

Next day I read in the column for TV/radio: “Arcadian radio and The Arcadian Explorer’s editorial Staff continue their trip down Mississippi on the riverboat Queen Aurora.”

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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