Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Pain Is an Illusion

"Pain is just an illusion, 
though it does really hurt like hell."
(Paraphrasing Adamus Saint-Germain)

According to Adamus, pain is a memory of a trauma stored in the cells of our body of consciousness. It's an illusion. It's the memory of a pattern in the way that space and time flows to and through us.

The wonder and miracle of the human avatar.

Our consciousness, our bodies never actually move. Our feet never actually touch the ground in a push-force movement when we walk. Yet, our body's intelligence and our five senses tell us that we have body parts--bone, tissue, organs, nerves and muscle that feel and interact with the world around us. It's so convincing that we really feel like we have bodies that need to breathe and pump blood, and that we can die if certain parts of us are traumatized to a certain extent that they can no longer function properly. We believe we exert effort and we are the ones who trudge through time and space. That is the beauty of the gift of this human body avatar. It FEELS so REAL!

As I wrote the above paragraph, I kept seeing clips from the actual movie, Avatar. It keeps popping into my mind as I'm experiencing myself going for walks. I notice more and I take less for granted--I'm more aware--when I imagine myself as being a human avatar. My body is the vehicle--or robot--that I use to experience this--my--reality world.

But we never move, and objects and other beings never actually move in our reality. Our own limbs don't move. Time and space flows through and around us in different patterns creating the objects and movements we perceive as our reality. We exert no effort, we just believe and feel like we do.

And we've been re-creating our world--pretty much the same type of situations over and over again--because of this foundational belief that we are little humans moving through a huge world. Time and space is stuck in a pattern of flow in service to our belief. It only becomes unstuck when we start choosing to shift our perspective around.

I've been out walking and enjoying this new perspective of time and space flowing to and through and around me, rather than me lugging and hauling a tired and sometimes run-down feeling body over hard terrain. Then I get home and the bottoms of my feet are sore, bordering on feeling blistered, and I experience sudden jolts of pain through my hip and legs. What was once an enjoyable excursion delighting in the pain-free length of my stride and a feeling of limitless energy shifted into a night of sleeplessness filled with hip pain followed by a morning of the same thing.

But it was another beautiful sunny day in March, so I couldn't resist taking another walk, even though the jolts were still there, though not quite as bad. When a hitch in my shortened stride hit, I chose to take a conscious breath with it and to remind myself it was just a cellular memory--an illusion--and I assured myself that there was nothing wrong with me. That there was nothing to fix.

There was nothing I needed to adjust--it was just a memory of a pattern of the flow of time and space based on a past experience that I had once judged as something that was wrong with me.

With that BREATH of remembrance that truly all is well with me and all of creation, the pain left--and I was able to enjoy my time pretending I was walking outside in nature without issue.

Emotional pain is an illusion, too.

A few posts back, I told about the fear I feel inside every time my husband leaves me, especially when he takes his motorcycle out for a ride. We had a 70 degree day in March this past Sunday, and he couldn't resist taking it out for a spin. I took myself out for a walk before he left in order to help myself look at the whole situation differently. It helped me to get out of the house--away from stewing and listening and waiting for him in the old manner.

I lost my first boyfriend in a motorcycle accident--that's a pretty traumatic cellular memory. It's a painful illusion that I've BEEN CHOOSING to haul around for decades. It was a living hell for me coming home to see my parents and siblings waiting out on the steps for me to get home from my night out with my cousin.

Yet, even as I screamed, a part of me observed myself acting the part. I knew I was acting. I drama-queened it. I was behaving "appropriately" for the circumstances.

It wasn't that I didn't care that he was gone, because that loss did hurt...and yet...a part of me still watched the whole thing play out like the movies. I felt a bit guilty about that sense of detachment, and I spent years punishing myself for simply authentically feeling that way about such a traumatic experience.

As I walked it through, seeing and feeling it from the perspective of it simply being a memory and an illusion that I could actually CHOOSE to let go of, the whole situation shifted for me. I was no longer "poor Penny."

I've always acknowledged that not everyone dies riding motorcyles or any of those other toys and vehicles people seem to love. This was something I've known all along, yet I kept inserting myself into that story the same way. I was literally choosing to continue the act I had going, so it stayed the same. When I look back, in a warped way, I was mentally trying to protect myself from feeling that pain again. My thoughts angrily jumped to having to deal with a ripped up body to bury and all the details of a life without him--always, I was questioning how I would handle it the next time around, heaven forbid.

Yet, all I had to do was to CHOOSE in one moment, to decide that I didn't have to make that my story anymore. I could choose to be FREE of it, and so I was! It was as simple as that. I let the story and my identifying with it go.

It's rather hard to find the words to convey this in a way you might be able to feel. It was just so simple and effortless--it only took that one moment of clarity to decide to let it go. My human mind was surprised. It almost couldn't believe it was so easy, and yet it was okay with me just quitting the issue. We'd had enough playtime with that story.

It was just an illusion--it was the memory of a past experience that I used as a tool to help shake myself awake from the hypnosis of believing I was an insignificant human puppet with someone else pulling my strings.

No one's pulling my strings anymore. I know I am the creator effortlessly creating my own reality--and I'm also aware that I'm the only one who can perceive it the way I do.

I'm the only one who can choose to change my perception of an experience.

Pain is just a cellular memory.

"Whenever you are able to accept 
whatever state you are in
without seeing it as wrong,
then you really have breakthroughs." (Lee Harris)

And so I did, and so it is...

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