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
*

Resting

This night felt like one big blessing. There was resting and not much sleep, but it felt like a dark spell had lifted – I felt safe.

After having slept for a while, I awoke as something very unpleasant arose. “Are you ready?” I heard, and I was – and I spent long time breathing and being with a huge load of toxicity releasing itself. There was NO identification with it at all – again a sign that there had been a break in the dark connection.

I want this to last. I want to feel this freedom each time I go to bed from now on – the simplicity of resting in my body and energy, and being the Loving Self embracing it all.

Hole in the Shitbag

The  teachings are so exquisite lined up for me. Not so pleasurable in the middle of it though-

At the writer-forum, I made a decision that spurred an unbelievable chaos and  confusion, and which was judged by many – and also supported by others, who messaged me: “I am with you to the end.” I used the toxic comments to see how they mirrored toxic beliefs in the mind – one about “passive aggression” struck a chord 🙂 I sure have judged my aggression – I saw that I had  even connected it to being killed, if I let it out. I decided that enough is enough – I would much rather be straight and real than “nice.” Making that decision gave a felt sense of peace and smiles.

In the night, listening to John Mark Stroud’s “deepenings” of The Way of Mastery, lesson 11 a, Jeshua talked about the importance of finding the roots of our affliction, and I prayed to find the roots to the chaos, fear and toxicity I was experiencing. I was taken down to a decision to want to be punished for “my” guilt – it felt like I carried the world’s guilt on my shoulders, and it felt very convincing. I was shown that I had created a dark being to scare me and “punish” me – and was helped to see that this was my creation – so it was mine to uncreate. Not Leelah-mine – it was created by the One Mind behind time and space as a way to separate from God, to truly explore all the feelings that were a consequence of that decision. ” Do you still value exploring them?” asked Love, and no. I truly don’t. It felt like I had found the root of it, and allowed it to be uprooted.

There was also a clear insight of the unreality of this “me” – this Leelah. These feelings and experiences do not belong to personalities or “separate” beings – they come through us to be played out, to be experienced, and ultimately, to be released.We are not limited bodies, we are the Loving Space the bodies float in.

Just sharing this here brings a delicate release and joy

I then had a dream where a powerful wizard like man with a disgusting way of sexual innuendo made passes, and my anger erupted like a fire storm. I woke up, and decided I want to be real and not hide it behind nice: I now know who I am, and Who loves me and supports me – and that They come when I call on them.

And then Love gave me this hilarious sign and symbol on the bus-station:

The shit is out of the pretty-bag

This is a doggy bag. In pretty pink. It’s not inside the littler box, but on top of it – right in front of me, not to be overlooked. And there’s a big hole in it: the shit is out now:)

No more inside  pink sweetness

I giggled all the way to town

Irritation

The signals lately of irritation have been huge.

In a Forum, just the other day, all the members were being verbally abused by a person whose vocabulary showed a remarkable variation in  imaginative and very graphic descriptions of lover body-parts. He let it all hang out, and his self-hatred were projected on us.

I knew inside that I was asked to pay attention to what this was mirroring in me – and knew that it had to do with the dream about the irritation: that which made interruptions all the time – that which wanted  and needed to express RIGHT NOW.

I go out on the veranda to roll down the solar protection. Suddenly a swarm of wasps surround me – I run inside and close the door and windows. Looking out, i see that they live in an old cupboard for tools on the veranda. Now that is a good  reflection of the toxicity inside the mind: I want to find the thoughts in the mind that I still believe are truth.

So today, in wonderful timing, I Skyped with Caren, who was kind enough to step into the role of the one who irritated me.Or an old crushed part of me, as it turned out to.

That foul-spewing guy on the Forum mirrored this part exactly, as I found out today.

When Caren asked me if i could allow the awareness to expand, this old part snapped: “Don’t tell me what to do!”

I choose to allow its anger to freely be expressed. It spoke from an identity who never could say no or “go away” or “stop” or “fuck you” or “too much” or leave me alone or I’ll kill you!” Expressing these borders was not an option for this one – because the price would be to be cast out of the family unit, and wander the word as the most shameful person evvver.

So when Caren invites me to let it out, it is at first impossible –  the feeling of condemnation and  shame is overwhelming: “What a naughty obnoxious girl you are! You really deserve to die, horrible scum you are!” But nudged to do what I really would have loved to do, I notice that I would have liked to do exactly what the invective-spewer did yesterday on the Forum ( and for which he was banned from the Forum by the administration.)

I would like to yell and scream and be violent and hurt and see people suffer and that it lasted for a long very long time, and then i would leave them to suffer and enjoy their screams for a very very long time, thank you.

It is allowed now – the sickness rises almost to vomiting.

Shut up! don’t say anything! Give me space! Step back! Don’t even open your mouth! Don’t tell me what to do or think or how to be! Don’t tell me how to be! Shut up!Don’t look at me! Don’t poke me!! Its too much too much! Don’t interrupt me! Listen!

The overwhelm is absolute in this child – and all was repressed and denied. No wonder the poison grew in that not-allowed space

The door is opened now. Expressions is allowed, and there is no condemnation and no shame. *

I phone a pest removal firm, and talk to a man who has visited me before, removing a huge wasp nest. He does not hate them, and has the loveliest energy.

Feeling fully what the wasps symbolized took care of yet another repressed part. It all is such a blessed process

Crushed – not broken

These words came into my mind this morning. Clear, calm voice spoke them.

Yesterday several years of agony due to holding on to a false story crumbled.
Peter and Betty had been visiting – and I had planned to confront Peter with something he did here when he was visiting that I thought was both weird and irreverent.

He did it this time too – and the same night was without one minute’s sleep, just endless automatic spinning of the old attack-story. The sensations of toxicity were so overwhelming that I believed I would not survive one more night with them.

So I mailed Betty about this thing Peter did – and it turned out that what I had spun out was utterly made up in my mind, seen through the filter of the stiffened enemy image my mind has used as a lens of true perception.

When all the beliefs that this story was true and said something dangerous about Peter were gone, I could lay down and just allow the toxicity and strong physical pains and tensions just come up to be seen and forgiven and released. Each time a new layer surfaces, I relaxed around it and intended to release it.

The night before – and months before that – my mind had been feverishly busy in trying to foresee what I thought were Peter’s strange acts, which in my story meant that he was projecting hugely on me. This belief was enough to catch me in the old “foresee disaster so you will not get stuck in it”-pattern.

And it was seen as my old story completely, with no trace of reality in it.

This morning, after many vivid dreams forgotten when I woke up, I felt strange. I had a breakfast and threw up. It felt very liberating to do that: I almost never throw up.

Then I went to a matinée, and saw “Broken.”

So much violence – all coming out of a failing ability to open to one’s grief. And all the characters were described in such a way that their helplessness was evident – the bad guys and girls where just helplessly caught in a blind pattern of acting out violence to attain a semblance of control in their lives.

At the end, control breaks, all the “worst” happens, and the ending is happy.

Yes. Not broken. What broke, was the belief in the value of violent defense-mechanisms.

Just as this night, that old mechanism was brought to the surface and truly seen through and related TO and not FROM

Today feels like a cellular re-structuring.

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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