Putting the Demons to the Sacred Bonfire


About 1 ½ month ago, I got a strong pain in the right knee. That was the time when I first posted about my vision of a seven week online course: Dragons and Princesses. About changing our relationship to our dragons – illnesses, problems – through play and creativity and sharing. Spirit showed me how the very dynamics of the illness would be changed, when we stop relating to them with resistance and judgments, and open to them with curiosity, wonder and play instead.

I told Spirit  a happy YES to lead such groups, and then of course the fears and resistance that have to do with “being creative” popped up. It took until this morning to understand: I had listened to fear, and fear said: You have to see to it that nobody sabotages the process.

And I believed that, I really did, and fear grew inside – and the knee hurt more. Until this morning, when I asked Spirit what this was about, and  was reminded what our marvelous leader Paolo Knill taught us in the beginning  of one of our long training periods in Switzerland. “ We will bring our demons to the fire.”

He lighted a candle, and we all brought our demons/fears of creativity to it:

‘I must guess what she wants me to do and do it just perfectly like that, or else’

‘If I don’t do it “right”, I will screw everything up for the others and they will hate me. It will be MY fault. They will hate me!”

‘I am so scared that I won’t find out what the “right” thing to do this exercise is.  I MUST find it!’

‘I must find out exactly what she/ the leader/ means, or else’

‘This is my only chance to be free of my dragon’

‘I will let absolutely NO one know about what I think and feel.” (Under that sentence lies a bunch of demons.)

‘If I sabotage now – not doing it perfectly – it means that I simply don’t deserve to live’

Here is one of my strongest: “ I can’t show the others my own clumsy efforts! I am the group-leader, I must deliver great artistic stuff all the time forgossake!’

Here is a fascistic variety: ‘I can’t upload a photo of my little sculpture to the group – it is too perfect and fantastic, the others can’t deliver up to this standard and so they will lose hope, poor amateurs.’ 

( I know! Ohmygohd!)

So I realized that I wanted to relate to the part that had created this painful knee, and told it “I am here for  you, I  am not going anywhere, I am here to support you to feel whatever you need to feel.” There was an instant visceral connection. I “saw” her as a “little one”, and I allowed her to have her feelings – I was the observer of HER having the feelings. She was thrashing around, like drowning under all these demon-demands, believing they were real, believing they were important to follow and obey for her to be safe. She was also angry and deeply sad

I acknowledged that all of this were perfectly reasonable feelings to have, believing what she did ( and what we all have learned at some point  by parents who themselves had learned the same.)  I saw myself with her, placing my hand on her heart, asking her to feel the love and support from it, encouraging her to allow and express whatever she needed.

(Demon: Nina!! You have to express this PERFECTLY! Or else!!! ( fill in your own ‘or else.’ J)

Nina ( putting him to the sacred fire) I am satisfied with it, sweetie.

The little one felt the love, and knew that the love and support was greater than the first pain. The beliefs unwound, and there was a beautiful release.

The pain in the knee has done its job – I saw what it needed me to see: – how vital it is for us on this course to bring our judgments/demons freely to the sacred bonfire in the Garden – not hiding or suppressing our fear of performance in any way. What if the illnesses can really grow because of our resistance to Love, in form of these judgements? What if judging judgments truly IS demonizing them – what if that were true?

If so, play is the very antidote to illness.

Next post I will share the story about how I created a healing ritual of demons during a workshop of Pottery and Meditation at Ennismore in Cork, Ireland – earlier a Monastery, now a retreat and conference center. It was led by the outstanding Father Donagh O’Shea  OP  – potter and Dominican Father. This story is also a chapter in my book “When Fear Comes Home to Love – the healing gifts of art, play and forgiveness.” in the right menu. It is possible to “look inside” at the Amazon page.

(When posting this to my Facebook wall just now, the application crashed – it said” this is an unknown application.” I knew it was a message from Spirit, who wanted me to look out the window. On the great green field outside my window are two black figures. One of them falls to his knees, like praying for his life.Two kids are playing a game with a gun that spews arrows. They enjoy changing roles from killer to victim. They have costumes and all 🙂

And when I posted it here, this site crashed too 🙂

I acknowledged the big unconscious collective fear we all have on “creating” – I told myself, OF COURSE you are afraid of posting this -and Firefox found it and let me re post it 🙂

In A Course in Miracles, the world is an illusion – a play

It says we all have played all the roles, to explore separation

I don’t judge it anymore – and I also want to wake up fully














The Trauma Body

Those who have followed this blog for a time, will know that I have talked about the Pain Body – an Eckhart Tolle-term.

For me, a free space opened in my mind this morning, when I saw so clearly that what I feel each morning – and frequently in the day – has nothing to do with who I am: it is just the trauma-body,

I have experienced deep traumas and told myself ” this are MY traumas, MINE, they belong to ME – separating me from others, giving me an identity –  ” just like my patients and clients. It is a false identity:) – thank God – I/we have have seen it falsely: what you are, is the Observer – the part that still is like God created us, the part that can NOT be harmed.

That still sacred place is still found in the Heart.

This morning, suddenly calling the stories that glue all those traumatic moments together to “me” and “mine” for the TRAUMA-BODY. created a LOT of space inside – a clear separation from that pain-creation.

Suddenly, I was in the Observer, embracing it with Love – looking at it just as energy-imprints that I still had not forgiven and released. I have worked with this in a zillion ways – and each time it seems it is on a slightly more loving and spacious ring on the upward spiral of evolution.


I wrote this yesterday, to Robin Williams – thinking of him and his ability to go so high and so deep – feeling we have this SMILE in common. And it does not belong to “us” 🙂  so I want to pass it on:)

Oh Captain my Captain

The waves of your lives in your roles
Break on the shores of my heart
Like the pulse of the heart of the Goddess
Who spat you out here to play

I find the eternal love for Dead Poets’ Society
and for the Muse who cannot die
I see her in your achingly tender smile as you
leave your classroom that last time:
some standing on the desks, having found the
freedom of truth
and those still sitting, bent and scared
You lent yourself to all your roles
The smile is in most of them

As you, as Parry in Fisher King
Longed for the grail and flied
From the red dragon –
In the end, you put your head in its mouth
But this is what I will remember:
Your play with chopsticks and meatballs
With your Queen of Clumsy
Your trouser legs stapled shorter
And the wild and tender smile
When you looked at her
And joined her

O Robin my Robin


My Father’s House by Alan Dolit

I love to include this great parable of separation and illusion as A Course in Miracles sees it. With lots of smiles, as Alan always does it
I’ve always lived at Home with my father. I am always in a state of bliss and rapture. It feels as if it is always now, as I don’t experience time passing. I have a thought that I am missing something. It is only a thought. I ask dad about it. He laughs and says :”Son, you have everything. How could anything be missing? You can’t have more than everything? There can’t be everything and something else.” While this makes perfect sense, the thought returns. Rather than mention it again to dad, I decide to leave home. My father is the most wonderful loving father. He has never as so much even criticized me in the slightest. He does nothing except extend perfect love, however he is so powerful, he could crush me like a bug. I don’t know what happened, but after I had the thought that something was missing, I experienced sheer terror and had to leave. I had a panic attack and an insane thought that my dad would actually destroy me. I couldn’t get that thought out of my mind. I don’t know what to do. I know the thought is totally preposterous, and yet for some reason I am unable to shake off these feelings of gloom and doom. Just when I think my mind is going to split I hear a voice telling me to hide where my dad could never find me. This makes sense.
As I continue on my journey I hear sounds coming from a theater. I go in and see there are a bunch of people standing around. One of them says: “Finally. We were wondering when you were going to show up.” Obviously they’ve mistaken me for someone else, but I decide to play along. This would be a good place as any to hide from dad. The same person says go to the wardrobe room and get your costume. I seem to know where it is and go there. Immediately I am fitted with a costume and given a script with instructions to read it immediately. I go back on stage and tell him that I can’t act. He tells me to fake it till I make it. I do so and join the play in progress.
Pretty soon I have faked it so well, I am lost in the part and really think I am this character. I forgot who I really am. After a while I tire of this character and remember this isn’t who I am. I start to take my costume off and everyone gets upset. I am strongly urged to go back to the wardrobe room and I will be given another part. It seems that I do this for many times, playing many roles both male and female. I play son, daughter, mother, father, doctor, lawyer, grandparent etc. Eventually I remember that I wandered in here because I was afraid that my father was going to destroy me. I now realize the absurdity of this and remove the present costume and start on my way home. I continue on my way trying to retrace my steps. It seems like I was gone so long I am having trouble finding my way home. However I notice some land marks and am about to follow one of them when I hear the voice that originally told me to hide in the theater. He tells me that my father is still mad and I need to follow his directions to avoid my dad.
Some how I lose the last land mark and see something up ahead that looks very interesting. I spend much time with this new activity and forget that I am on my way home. After being involved in the activity that seemed to be endless, I again realize I had been side tracked and leave the activity and again continue to head for home. I walk past a baseball diamond in which there are two teams playing. I stop to watch the game and one of the captains sees me and motions me to come down to the playing field. I do so and he says. “It’s about time you showed up. Now get into your uniform.” Deja vue strikes again. It feels as though I am in some sort of dream and have to follow his orders, even though I know nothing of the game. All of a sudden I find myself at home plate with a bat in my hands. The pitcher throws the ball at me and the captain says “swing”.
 I hit the ball into the outfield and the captain tells me to run around the bases. I run to first and then second and then third, and then start for home. All of a sudden there is a man in a iron mask trying to prevent me from getting home. Then I hear my father’s voice telling me how much he loves me and wants me to come home.He won’t let any one stop me from coming home. In fact , dad says, “you never left. You’ve been here all the time, dreaming the whole thing up. I slide in to home plate and when I open my eyes, I‘m right back at home and no time had elapsed. “Dad”, I say, “You won’t believe this really weird dream I had.” Dad says: “Just laugh and all the effects of your dream will disappear.” I laugh… And nothing is left of the dream. It is like taking my finger out of water. There is no hole to indicate where my finger had been. How simple is salvation.
Seriousness causes  reincarnation; guilt is an acronym for Godless Useless Insane Loveless Thought; sin is an acronym for Self Inflicted Neurosis; ego is an acronym for Exponential Guilt Orchestrator. Ego is also the master Travel agent for guilt trips.

My innocence

Dear Holy Spirit

Reveal my innocence to me

As long as I don’t acknowledge it, I believe I am guilty

And so I project my unconscious guilt on others – good strategy as ego, but impossible to wake up

When others projects their guilt on me and I fell MEAN and BAD: it is the greatest gifts I could receive. Now ( no, I still cannot do is AS it happens, but when I am alone, I can) – now I can allow that feeling to come to the surface. Sit with it in great patience, letting it unfold, letting it melt: In this allowing, I am sitting in God’s arms.

Which is really my own Self’s embrace.

With a full heart I now thank those who played the roles of betrayers: you know, the ones you share complete and utter love and Unity with. The one moment they talk to you and tell you that there are no words for this Love, and that it will never change. They might be on the other end of the world in a phone, you still feel the connection, and you are not mistaken: this is the real thing – this is God’s impersonal Love where all is included –  you two too:)

The other person then makes a spontaneous promise to do something for you, to send you something as a symbol for this love.

It never comes

You start to make stories about it – guilt is distributed.

You send him a “reminder”… it comes from fear and distrust, but you do your best to pretend you don’t mind – you are really spiritually above this –

He makes promises – it still does not come

Then:you  suddenly truly KNOW inside that this – his “betrayal” – IS the gift – but the ego is clever in its insisting that nonono, he has betrayed the Love and betrayed his promise.

But what if his REAL promise was to play this disgusting role of the betrayer?

Now you know he is NOT -so AT LAST you can allow the very feeling you always avoided like the plague – (and which therefore was repeated in countless incarnations . . . ) to fully be allowed and felt

Are you starting to giggle now?


Welcoming Home the feeling of being betrayed:

Here it is.

Body starting to itch – your eyes feel like exploding – your bone-structure is creaking – something unfathomable old and tired and angry is moving behind your heart – your head, lead heavy – tears are coming – images of tired multitudes  of refugees in the desert – have faith, you are soon coming to the Red Sea, big surprise is waiting

The insight that you have carried this false belief as a body-mind: I am limited to what the ego tells me through its play of illusion, its razzle dazzle convincing appearances. But I have chosen this: to experience the consequences of this belief that it is possible to exist outside of God’s eternal Love.

To be one who is betrayed.

Nay – 🙂 it is not so ( I think Moses is speaking inside) – They are only ever reflecting back to me what I think is real. Now I can discover it, FEEL it fully as it leaves.

Thank you, Beloved, for playing this yucky role.

I am the Source of my experiences

I extend forgiveness to my self for creating this

I bless it –  and all the “betrayers” – “myself” included – with the Blessing of Christ.

I release you to be your Self

And I let it go in Peace














Dreams and Awakening

The Son of God cannot sin. He can have a dream about sinning, about being something God has not created – and because God’ power is within him, his dream becomes real for him.And he identifies with the  “me” and”mine” of it, and believes in it. The shame,fear and guilt that is generated is now perceived only to be alleviated by being punished. And if he can and must be punished, it follows that there must indeed exist a punisher – who is God.

He runs away. Of course. Look at him – is this the Son of God? Or is it a thought in the mind that comes from the ego thought system that springs in action when the Son believes in the Tiny Mad Idea?

Now the Son of God can hide in a dream where he can play the roles of predator or victim. And as victim, a way to feel powerful is to promise “I will never never never forgive you.”

Now he believes he IS the victim. As long as he holds on to this identity – and justifies his decision to never let the perpetrayor off the hook – he is hooked into the play. It is completely real for him, he experiences it – just as you and I, dear reader, believe that our nightdreams are real while we are dreaming them.

Now – if all these “roles” that I am playing are real, “God” must be wrong – I must have succeeded in separating myself from him.

1-0 to the ego


I am willing to let everybody off the hook: I hooked them up, and there is no peace in that. I am willing to let go of the addiction to guilt. I am willing to let go of the perception of good ones and bad ones, right ones and wrong ones. I am willing to see through this with Christ’s perception.



the feeling of “me” and “mine” vanished. There were fields of emotions and pain and fear – they were recognized not as “my” stories, just “stories”. As soon as they were felt, there was a decision to let go of any attachment to it – they were neutral energy, and dissolved quickly.  As the hours passed, I recognized psychological abuse complexes,  felt certain that these had nothing to do with the Truth of me and allowed the Christ to be the field of Love to embrace it.

Taking on roles…

Yes – it IS scary in this world, to truly believe our roles can take us over – and they do, all the time:)

It’s a role

When the familiar pattern of angst and dread visited this night, there was a clear decision that I will not go down that road again – it leads to a never-ending labyrinth of identifying with suffering.
And so this was heard:

I have this life explored the concept of roles and archetypes deeply – for myself, but also taught it to students. I have found wonderful ways to help them experience the energy of different roles – “husband”, “son/daughter”, “jealousy” etc. – and how it feels to literally step out of the role.
What never occurred to me is that our names are roles.

Leelah is a role
Leelah is a construct
Leelah is a program, filled with life and feelings of “me” –
but it IS a role only
it has never existed
So – seeing that, the angst-and-dread happened to no-one, and 90% of it slid right off

Roles can be de-roled, as all actors know.

When I was a child in the fifties, there was a cut-out-theater in one of my favorite weekly magazines. I sat in our attic, which was smelling of mold and dust, with heaps of old Readers’ Digest around, and draft through the chimney. I played for hours with staging plays and playing all the roles. The nice little Lisa – naughty Jack – the Queen – the dragon… the bad ones were all taken care of by police.

Later I made hand-puppets and my father built a great little stage where my own plays were performed by me. Full control.Great satisfaction and relief.And applauds.

My main role was me. I was an excellent me – as we all are, in the human theatre called the world.

Yesterday I saw a play: 33 variations by Moisés Kaufman. After having seen this – I discover yet again how everything in my life is so perfectly orchestrated to bring me to awakening.

Wikipdia says: “The play simultaneously examines the creative process behind Beethoven’s Diabelli Variations and the journey of a musicologist, Katherine Brandt, to discover the meaning behind why Beethoven was compelled to write thirty-three distinct variations on a simple theme by a nobody music publisher. The progression of her ALS and her relationship with her daughter are also themes, as is Beethoven’s growing deafness.

The action takes place both in Beethoven’s time and the present, switching back and forth between the two. However, at certain key points, characters from both time periods appear on stage to deliver lines simultaneously, emphasizing the parallels between the exploits of both sets of characters.

The mother has Lou Gehrig’s disease – which was the disease my mother died from. My daughter is a musicologist. As well as a story about Beethoven and his genius and fate, this is also a play about mother and daughter.

My daughter and I am sitting in the only two chairs which have a distance between them – some 40 cm. I comment on it, and my daughter remarks, “I am sure it is possible to move these seats together in some way.” And for me, she speaks about the seeming separation between mothers and daughters. I feel great warmth within me spreading.

There is a fight going on between the mother and the daughter on stage. The mother is dying, as also Beethoven is dying in another time, on another place on the stage. And then, unexpected, he comes over to her sickbed and stands close to her – and she places her head on his shoulder. When she is in coma, Beethoven comes into her limbo and jokes – quite outside of his role as Beethoven. There is no time. There is this beautiful scene where the pianist plays a fugue within the variations, and the actors start to sing in chorus – spanning different time-lines – all roles coming together in  adoration of the Self that has nothing to do with personalities.

At the end, all actors stand right in front of me. They are beaming with love and happiness. I am deeply touched.

And all of this  led me to me being able to understand the voice in the night, saying:

“It’s a ROLE.”.


Yesterday I was led to Pamela Wilson. On this website she suggests that instead of asking ourselves “who am I”, we ask our “parts” “who are you?


“Now, if we are not who we are, how come everything else is who they are? Wouldn’t it make more sense to say, “Well, if I’m not my role, maybe nothing else is its role.”

And rather than wondering what that role is, just ask it directly, “Who are you?” It’s so much faster than trying to figure it out.

You don’t ask it, “Who am I?”

One of thought’s functions is to project onto you, because you have no form. It has to come up with projection after projection, and just in case you relax out of your role it has to create an diversion, quickly.

So ask it, “Who are you?”

Curiosity is the way wisdom gets revealed inside. It is the forerunner of wisdom. Curiosity arises and, if you sit with it, connected right underneath is the wisdom. They are not two.”

Yesterday I sat with “something” that wanted to justify its constant anger. I welcomed it in, and opened my heart completely to it. “It” felt so loved. I felt so much love.

This morning, the usual leg-cramps and tensions were intolerable. I remembered to ask this “something” that was the source of this agony who it was. It answered: “I am Plague.”

Here is an image of her:                 Drawn by Theodor Kittelsen. In 1348, the plague came to               

Norway. It took 60% of the population. As a child, i  was drawn into Kittelsen’s evocative images of strange beings and trolls and figures from Norwegian folklore. Pesta ( a nickname of  the Plague) has a broom and she brought horrible sufferings and deaths – and nobody was saved where she visited.

So now I talked to something in my mind that called itself Pesta – something/somebody that believed in the role of the bringer of death.

Abysmal loneliness. Hatred of itself and everybody who fear and hated it. A belief that this was a role that was given to it and that it had to take – nothing else was available for this, not possible.

I invited it to sit with me, and it did. I gave a willingness to be wrong in the minds decision to choose to identify with such a role. The warmth of truth was allowed to shine on it. It wanted nothing else than to be included in my mind, to just BE without being hated.

Each time I remember this “session” I feel deep release and relaxation.

And gratitude for the possibility to meet whatever who comes up to be blessed and seen, so the roles can slide off and I can see Life underneath the costume: just another forgiveness-opportunity. Not for Pesta – for my mind’s need for scapegoats for guilt.


Yesterday, I watched an interview of Nouk Sanchez by Ken Bok. Nouk’s view of death – and the unreality of it – did something strong to me. That part starts at 56 minutes.

Then I had a meeting with my daughter in town, and felt the usual squirming before we met.I stated the intention to see her as innocent, without all the stories I lay upon her – she has been my main projection-holder, poor girl.

A miracle happened, and all my false perceptions of our relationship fell away. There’s only Love left now – and everything else that seemed to happen were stories only – no more believed in.All that I perceived as closed between us – defended – opened into beauty and the warmest embrace ever.

It feels like million of years with projections and roles and struggles and resistance just went down the drain -and is seen as never real at all, delusions deliciously gone in a moment.

So this night the usual horror is not taken seriously – there’s no resistance to it, no reactions – and the feeling of a foreign strange and strong influence is gone. Then it stops being horror and turns into energy, and I am just laying there saying yes to it – which is doable now just because I don’t take it seriously/personal.

That’s all the difference. From hell to HERE NOW.


And now to something completely different:

At the storyteller symposium I fell in love with a clown. I was coming into the house from a short stroll, and there he stood outside the auditorium – he had strange instruments on his back, and was alert as a tiger, ready to do unexpected mischief during a lecture. Our eyes met, there was an instantaneous recognition of “I know you and I love you.” The clown was without language, but as our eyes met he kissed the air.

I told him I was in love with him, and we parted.

Later I was talking to Sebastian – the one the clown came through. I am not in love with Sebastian, but That wild creature who came through him: unpredictable, and with a huge power to stir us from our sleep of conditions. I remember a time in my education where I had painted an image –


-and later did a performance where I became this figure, exploring him, allowing him to come through me. He was relating to a figure one of my classmates were playing – a refined woman playing flute. The meeting between them still sits in my cells as pure joy and outrageousness. The class went wild, and my teacher yelled  ” I LOVVVE YOUUU!”

Dearest inner fear free being – not contained in “clown”-category – you are a trickster with power to transform the timid constricted  fear filled ones. Welcome


PS The second I had posted it, it got a “like” from this blogger:


Talk about the power of like attracts like – me like!!! Love you, Clotilda – we belong to the same tribe of sane nuts and sillypots

Letting go of the always available therapist

Draft for letter to my patients:

– I am  at my age and process at a place where I am saying goodbye to outdated roles/identities.  I am talking about one of the main role-expectations of a therapist: be available when your clients need you, and when they are in crisis. I am being guided to see that I need to let go of this: as long as I believe this is my responsibility, I can never fully allow myself to rest. This is my summer vacation – but as long as I still have this role/therapist-identity open and running, my psyche is always alert. I can never fully relax.

This role is a compulsion, originated in childhood: your only justification for living is being the psychic receiver for the family’s shadow.

But for me, it has to stop: the inner child will never feel free to grow up as long as she sees herself in the old pattern of “savior.”

I think it is the most common impulse for becoming a therapist: so many of us have learned that this is the only path that is open for us to receive gratefulness and maybe even love and admiration.

As it becomes clear for me that I will drop this role –   I see what a HUGE ego-trap this is. And what a boost for the ego, which is now indispensable and powerful.

Myself, I am very grateful for my last therapist and Buddhist teacher: he WAS always available – and loved it! He stressed that a good therapist, as he saw it, had to be OK with  patients being dependent on him/her – because that was an important stage in developing a healthy ego. He was the good father for me for many many years, and I love him for it.

And now it is time to let it go- and allow my own process to be my first focus: I want to allow the healing I took birth for, as Stephen Levine puts it.

Dear X – please sense and find out if this is something you can accept and live with: somebody who gives you the full responsibility to find the wisdom, love and comfort inside yourself – and who will share methods to do this., and walk with you as you learn and grow and take risks. And know that it is OK to still need such an available therapist – then you need to find one of those.

But if you say yes to work more with me, you are no longer seen as a client or patient, you are not receiving “treatment” – you are a student.

I sense the great space opening around me when I step into this role: here I am free – and there are no expectations, no cords to the past.


I wrote this yesterday. Today I spent with my daughter. She was sick -and I offered some methods that might bring love and comfort into the roots of the sickness. She listened, and I sensed the deep skepticism and resistance. For some seconds I picked up the old role again – before I remembered that she has exactly the potential that we all have, it is up to her to choose and experience the consequences of her choices. Whatever happens is part if her process of learning. When I let it go, I sensed the rage of the ego: it had lost its moment of being the one with more power to heal than the other.

Oh I am so aware that I will drop back into the morass again – but as long as I forgive it and smile at it, all is well.

Accepting myself  where I am RIGHT NOW – AND NOW – is the job.

I can do that 🙂

Do I really say this from a clear open mind?   hm…what time is it? “5:56am”

I look at my watch: 5:56am

That sounds pretty clear to me

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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