I love lighthouses because they don't meddle in others' lives. They simply stand firmly inside themselves upon a rock-hard foundation of their own unique creation, and they polish and shine out their brightest light in the moment at hand. They are the epitome of true compassion and friendship--of true mercy and grace.
When darkness of storm rages, with winds and waves of change tossing everything in the sea of life chaotically and frighteningly about, the lighthouse doesn't rush out into the sea to save ships--some who maybe don't even want to be saved or rescued. The lighthouse, as a true friend, realizes that maybe those ships would rather be reminded that they are the captains of their own life with their own unique path. All the friendly lighthouse does is stand quietly upon its own one-of-a-kind, safe and sacred shore; and it provides illumination in the darkness, revealing myriad potential paths of safety or treachery, fun or not-so-fun, ease or difficulty--not perceivable before. It's up to the captain to choose her/his own path of experience.
The lighthouse honors that FELLOW SOVEREIGN'S choice, no matter what, because the lighthouse knows deep within herself that ultimately everything works out okay. That, in her own experience, she was unaware of her own strength and grandness and gift of being until she journeyed through her own storms, her own way, using the lights of other houses of her choosing (or not) to sail her narrow, one-boat-wide path.
I'd rather have someone choose to be my friend simply because they liked interacting with me--not because I saved them and they feel indebted to me, or because I commiserated with them and felt sorry for them. Nor would I care to be some one's obligatory friend because they pitied me and felt superior from the deal. I'd rather walk away from a friendly interaction eyes smiling, and feeling uplifted and happy with myself--with them feeling the same about themselves. To me, that is pure friendship.
A few years ago, Adamus (see crimsoncircle.com) encouraged us to make the choice to lovingly and quietly disconnect for a time from our families in order to become aware of what we were bringing to the party antics that we call "family." By separating out for a bit, it would be easier to clearly see, and to let go of, our old relationship roles, patterns, stories and identities that no longer served us. We could choose to re-connect with them once again afterward, but we would do so more consciously aware of what we wanted from our interactions with each other.
What I realized in doing this exercise was astonishing for me--you see, I actually LIKED, LOVED and ADMIRED my family members before doing this. (To keep this simple, I'm speaking here about my parents and my brothers and sisters). But afterward--I FREELY like, love and admire them even more! And that is a huge FEELING difference.
I saw more clearly what I was unconsciously radiating out (or, more often than not, holding in and hiding) in my interactions with each individual. I saw the belief systems from which I was operating and co-creating my experiences with them. Many times it was the same old situation, just a different day. I realized how tightly I'd been holding myself in with them--for fear of their rejection of me! I had actually erected the strongest ego-protective barriers when around my family than with anyone, anywhere else.
The driving desire and passion under all of that is that I simply wanted them to like being with the authentic me as a true and pure friend. I didn't want them interacting with me out of obligation because we were biologically related--and holiday traditions or traumas/dramas dictated that we get together because that's what families do. I didn't want my family members coming to visit me because they thought it was the "right" thing to do--I wanted them to come because she/he liked her/him-self with me. And I'm actually okay now if people don't come to visit--I no longer take it as a personal slight. Compassion and love does let go--in their purest form, you have no expectations to fulfill.
Adamus's little exercise helped me let go of all those old perceived betrayals that my mind kept wanting to revisit just because it kept me occupied by feeling like a victim, which resulted in me sucking off the energy of anyone who happened to be in my vicinity at the time. Commiseration is kind of seductive, but it's not really that fun when one's done playing it out, and I never found a solution over any actual stumbling block by engaging in it.
Thirty years ago, I gave a high school graduation speech that I embarrassingly bawled my way through, not realizing at the time that I was a bit more sensitive to the emotional pain all around me--so much so that it all felt like it was my own. I would struggle for decades before I became aware that most (about 97%) of what I was feeling wasn't my own stuff. I was feeling into, empathing, the mass consciousness of humanity. I was stepping into other people's shoes and wearing them for periods of time, and playing with their belief systems and the stories created from them like they were my own. I then tried to figure out how to fix things for that person--make them happy so they'd like me. Those kinds of friendships sucked the big one. The more I slaved over trying to be in service to someone else, the more taken for granted and ultimately, guiltily resentful, I felt about the whole situation.
I've realized I no longer care to feel all that empathy. To take on the pain and burdens of others and carry it around like it was my own in order to more closely analyze it to death, followed by trying to mentally figure out how to handle it for them. That was exhausting. I choose in its place to be a compassionate lighthouse: I'll self-fully radiate the brightest light I can muster, all the while, unconditionally accepting myself and everyone else in the moment at hand.
As Adamus reminded me, "If it's in your life, you put it there--and only you can un-create it." No one can do anything to me or force me into something unless I've first radiated out into the universe that I want to play that particular game. On some level, in all the situations I've felt stuck in (or felt like I was being used or taken for granted), I've liked what I had going...and so it continued TO BE SO.
So I'm constantly going through my days now, taking moments to close my eyes, take a conscious breath, and feeling into what I'm radiating out into the world--am I open and smiling? Or am I braced for the worst?
In the speech, I quoted a song by the Beach Boys entitled, The Winds of Change. The line that resonated with me was, "There's a part of me that would like to be a shining lighthouse for all to see--and when the dark night hides the sun, shine a light for everyone to see."
True to form for me in my amazing, unintentional ability to hear lyrics incorrectly--thanks to recent access to the song via YouTube--I realized I misquoted the lyrics in my speech. It was 1982, we listened to music on cassettes, and we didn't have access to the lyrics unless they were printed on the album covers (no such thing as the Internet). I said instead, "In my life's dream, I'd like to be a shining lighthouse for all to see..." Hey! It worked, too! Ha!
As Adamus pointed out, it's not about shining a light for the world or anyone else. First, no one else really needs it--everyone has their own unique light, and a person can just end up stirring pots of trouble and ticking people off trying to be a flashlight for someone who is SO not interested in your beam. For me, it was simply about taking the lampshade off my head and quitting my hiding of my true heart, and self, from the world around me. It was about letting myself FREELY EXPRESS. For me, part of that has been done by writing this blog.
My point of all of this is:
The winds of change are definitely blowing, flowing and swirling around our doors. It's pretty stormy all over the world, whether it's a political or relationship fracas, a war, a storm, an earthquake, etc. It's an opportunity for each person to discover themselves and their unique expressions of light in all these storms that shake us awake out of our life-numbing hypnoses.
These dark tunnel experiences make us first become aware of, and then question, the belief systems/suggestions we've blindly made our truths in the past. In blindly living out "this is the way life is and this is how you live it" we never realized we could choose and live something else--possibly something MORE. These potentials for change are something to be embraced and celebrated.
As for the paths one picks to sail--well, they don't have to be difficult and traumatic. Maybe that's the experience you want--that's fine. But if you want it easy and gracefully smooth--just choose that, and understand you don't have to mentally figure out how to make it so. Just choose it and breathe, dropping off all the protective armor, lowering all the guarding walls surrounding the you within...literally.
Just open up and flow, flow, flow...quit thinking, judging, analyzing. Close your eyes, and allow GRATITUDE for everything instead.
Remember: the imperfect Little Human you is simply one COSTUME of many for your Divinity to experience itself. We're all just acting out fictional stories together.
Treat yourself with unconditional acceptance and gratitude for being ALL your ways.
I've breathed myself through many a trauma and storm, and hugged and encouraged myself like no one outside of me could. I encourage everyone to embrace and discover who you really are--there is no such thing as an ordinary lighthouse.
I have the opportunity to shine my light into my world, highlighting and choosing possibilities of life lived more joyfully and abundantly and PEACEFULLY than I ever imagined before.
I'm thinking my life's dream is coming true for me...in my own simple way...
With love, my friends and fellow lighthouses...
Your friend,
Beamer
We're all quite the characters--actors, that is--role-playing together. These are stories of my awakening, my remembering realization that Home/Heaven is wherever I am. That I am not the puppet on someone else's string. The search is over. I simply FREELY CHOSE to quit searching outside of myself, and realized all my answers have always been within.
Friday, November 30, 2012
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
Hey There, GUILT--We're Done!
If you've read any of my earlier posts, you know that I've struggled long and hard with feelings of guilt. My beloved Adamus Saint Germain (via crimsoncircle.com, the Nov., 2012 Shoud) shared with us last month the key to finally letting all those stories of guilt go--completely this time. It's been an amazing month of releasing myself from old prisons I'd put myself in.
Adamus made the shocking, seemingly outrageous statement about Self-Forgiveness:
"Self-forgiveness is as simple as saying, 'That wasn't me! May have looked like me, sounded like me...That wasn't me!'"
I actually immediately discovered that this resonated with me. I've realized for a long time that the things I did in the past that I've wished I hadn't done--well, I did them blindly out of fear and desperation. I was in survival mode. And the more I've embraced enlightenment in me (it's been as simple as saying, "Yes! I AM ENLIGHTENED!"), the more I realize I'm not interested in harming or controlling anyone. The more truly compassionate and appreciative I've become of all of life.
Years ago I came across this analogy of two pictures that helped me put all the conspiracy theories I indulged in to permanent rest:
The first picture is a close-up of a horrendously, evil-looking man. He's not fair in his actions--he fights dirty, without honor. He actually appears crazy.
The second picture is a broader view of the first so you can see that the man is backed into a corner. It's dark, but behind him you can see his wife and his children--all that he holds dear, all that he's trying to protect. Suddenly that evil maniac doesn't appear evil at all. It was all just a matter of perspective.
Truly enlightened, sovereign beings have no fight in them, nor do they desire having power over, or responsibility for, another. If anything, I've discovered the desire in me to empower each individual in themselves--but, sovereign that I recognize them to be--they don't have to choose that either.
After reading the story of Saul-turned-Paul in the New Testament, I wondered for years how Paul managed to get over the guilt he had to have been feeling over killing all those Christians prior to his enlightenment on the road to Damascus. Adamus's above statement on self-forgiveness now makes a whole lot of sense. That wasn't Paul who killed those Christians. A name denotes a nature--a way of being--and Paul wasn't anything like the Saul who did those murderous acts. Saul was an alone-feeling man trapped in the darkness, caught up in his traditions. He was afraid for his own survival and those he loved--similar to the man in the picture analogy. It's WHY he changed his name--his entire nature had changed!
This also puts into perspective why I had such difficulty ever calling Yeshua/Jesus my savior. You see, I was guilty of murder if I believed I was the one responsible for nailing him up on that cross. I had enough feelings of guilt to deal with in other areas of my life without piling on murder. While, in my past, I used to be so terrified of some people I had judged as being evil that I felt the only way life would be better is if they just died, I didn't have it in me to kill them. Not this time around.
As far as taking responsibility for those things in my past that I regret--I choose to do so with self-compassion--which is simply unconditional self-acceptance/self-love. First of all, that wasn't the true me that did those things. That was an all-alone, unworthy-feeling, desperately scared, human--trying to perfect and protect herself, always hitting brick walls of self-judgment and self-condemnation. I wasn't self-aware. I wasn't awake yet. I was entangled in a web I'd created but had no idea how I did it--or how to un-create it. But, that evil-looking person of yesterday struggled long and hard to bring the true me forth as I AM right this moment.
And while I realize that that evil-appearing me wasn't me at all, I'm forever grateful to her...so grateful that I'm unwilling to carry around feelings of guilt about her actions. I choose to let her go. I choose to let go of feeling guiltily responsible for her actions. For me, the responsible thing to do is to simply say, "That wasn't me! That wasn't me! How I love her, but that wasn't me! And I'm honoring her by building a new life founded instead on love, compassion and joy in being--in place of the guilt and misery.
I AM here, and I AM happier that I've ever been before...Thanks so much for the simple reminder, Adamus.
Adamus made the shocking, seemingly outrageous statement about Self-Forgiveness:
"Self-forgiveness is as simple as saying, 'That wasn't me! May have looked like me, sounded like me...That wasn't me!'"
I actually immediately discovered that this resonated with me. I've realized for a long time that the things I did in the past that I've wished I hadn't done--well, I did them blindly out of fear and desperation. I was in survival mode. And the more I've embraced enlightenment in me (it's been as simple as saying, "Yes! I AM ENLIGHTENED!"), the more I realize I'm not interested in harming or controlling anyone. The more truly compassionate and appreciative I've become of all of life.
Years ago I came across this analogy of two pictures that helped me put all the conspiracy theories I indulged in to permanent rest:
The first picture is a close-up of a horrendously, evil-looking man. He's not fair in his actions--he fights dirty, without honor. He actually appears crazy.
The second picture is a broader view of the first so you can see that the man is backed into a corner. It's dark, but behind him you can see his wife and his children--all that he holds dear, all that he's trying to protect. Suddenly that evil maniac doesn't appear evil at all. It was all just a matter of perspective.
Truly enlightened, sovereign beings have no fight in them, nor do they desire having power over, or responsibility for, another. If anything, I've discovered the desire in me to empower each individual in themselves--but, sovereign that I recognize them to be--they don't have to choose that either.
After reading the story of Saul-turned-Paul in the New Testament, I wondered for years how Paul managed to get over the guilt he had to have been feeling over killing all those Christians prior to his enlightenment on the road to Damascus. Adamus's above statement on self-forgiveness now makes a whole lot of sense. That wasn't Paul who killed those Christians. A name denotes a nature--a way of being--and Paul wasn't anything like the Saul who did those murderous acts. Saul was an alone-feeling man trapped in the darkness, caught up in his traditions. He was afraid for his own survival and those he loved--similar to the man in the picture analogy. It's WHY he changed his name--his entire nature had changed!
This also puts into perspective why I had such difficulty ever calling Yeshua/Jesus my savior. You see, I was guilty of murder if I believed I was the one responsible for nailing him up on that cross. I had enough feelings of guilt to deal with in other areas of my life without piling on murder. While, in my past, I used to be so terrified of some people I had judged as being evil that I felt the only way life would be better is if they just died, I didn't have it in me to kill them. Not this time around.
As far as taking responsibility for those things in my past that I regret--I choose to do so with self-compassion--which is simply unconditional self-acceptance/self-love. First of all, that wasn't the true me that did those things. That was an all-alone, unworthy-feeling, desperately scared, human--trying to perfect and protect herself, always hitting brick walls of self-judgment and self-condemnation. I wasn't self-aware. I wasn't awake yet. I was entangled in a web I'd created but had no idea how I did it--or how to un-create it. But, that evil-looking person of yesterday struggled long and hard to bring the true me forth as I AM right this moment.
And while I realize that that evil-appearing me wasn't me at all, I'm forever grateful to her...so grateful that I'm unwilling to carry around feelings of guilt about her actions. I choose to let her go. I choose to let go of feeling guiltily responsible for her actions. For me, the responsible thing to do is to simply say, "That wasn't me! That wasn't me! How I love her, but that wasn't me! And I'm honoring her by building a new life founded instead on love, compassion and joy in being--in place of the guilt and misery.
I AM here, and I AM happier that I've ever been before...Thanks so much for the simple reminder, Adamus.
Saturday, November 3, 2012
Let's Loose the Shackles--Guilt, Shame and Misery
I could easily entitle this story The Johns and Me, but that would probably draw more spam than I care to deal with.
On the many walks I used to take around the lakes and along the Minnehaha Parkway in Minneapolis, I was approached by three individuals, on separate occasions, named John--and, no, I've never done the prostitution thing in this particular lifetime. But, still, I find myself grinning at the funny synchronicity of their names along with my own: John and Penny L. There is a character named John Peniel that caught my attention years ago, and the meaning of his name is "The Beloved Face of God." I guess it's probably one of those inside jokes I pretty much can only share with myself.
While it appeared these men were seeking a safe space with me, they actually turned out to be teachers for me--making me more fully aware of myself and the inner issues most humans deal with--guilt and shame, and the misery that accompanies them. So this post is in honor of these men--thank you for gracing my life, My Beloved Johns--and well done!
The first one saw me walking and said I appeared to be deep in prayer as I walked (I was actually just working through my own stuff, discovering a few answers for myself with each step). He asked if he could just talk with me a bit--he was feeling lost, and said that it was easier to talk more freely to a stranger than someone he knew. He approached me in a setting where there were people all around, my neck hairs didn't rise, so we sat and talked. He'd divorced recently and the business he ran was tied to his in-laws--not an easy situation. That was pretty much it--he just needed to have someone listen as he worked things out his own way, but by saying it out loud. I would run across him in my walks a few times over the span of a handful of years, and I think of him as my friend.
The last time he shared with me that he was struggling with feelings of guilt--he said he was raised Catholic, and that the guilt thing seemed to come with the territory. The funny thing is, that I've read that line in so many books and heard it from so many other people (many of them, Catholic) over the years, that I do wonder at the connection. As you can see from my many posts throughout, Catholics aren't the only ones--I struggled with that one, too. I remember telling him, that, for me, it was all about learning to practice love of oneself. In the years we visited, I went from having parents to losing them both, and I was going deeper and deeper into my own awakening. John seemed to see me when I'd made a personal breakthrough in some area--and that helped me by giving me someone to express these ah-ha!s out loud to, as well. We'd catch up a bit on profound things and then go our separate ways.
I was again walking alone along the creek (though surrounded by a few people) when John #2 looked into my eyes and saw someone he felt safe with, too. He asked if he could talk with me, so we sat on a picnic bench and visited until the sun began to get low enough that it turned cool, and, gentleman that he was, he loaned me his long-sleeved shirt as covering. He had served time for armed robbery and murder, and had been currently released and was staying with a Christian couple. He had been using alcohol as a coping tool, and they were trying to help him stay sober. He was in a moral dilemma at the time--didn't tell me anything specific, but was trying to figure out what was the right way to go. All that came to me to share with him at that time was to first go to the mirror, look himself in the eyes, and apologize to himself for being so hard on himself.
I looked into the mirror one day, prior to talking with John, and realized how much I'd been mentally beating upon myself--I had been merciless and relentless in the degradation of myself until that day. I gazed into the tear-filled eyes of a simple human who had been trying so hard to please me! I hardly ever gave myself the benefit of the doubt--though I was almost always willing to do that with anyone else outside of me.
I had seen John #3 many times in walks around the lake, and he'd never acknowledged me. The day he did approach, I knew that he was going to the moment we met that time--we were going opposite directions. I had just had an insight into my own childhood experience highlighting the sexual energy virus in consciousness (see my earlier post, Overcoming the Victimhood Addiction), and I knew someone with that struggle was going to approach me.
I think of him as John/Amy. He was a woman in a man's body, living with his macho brothers, trying to keep his feminine side secret from them, while trying to steal away moments to dress as the beautiful woman--aka, Amy--he so desired to be. His rage and anger at everything male emanated in waves off him--and empath that I was, I managed to feel that suppressed energy like it was my own. It was awful. He was so crazed with his secret that he was putting himself in situations that were dangerous to himself and others.
He wanted me to see him dressed as a girl, so I met him in a park right across from some homes. He was so caught up in showing me his feminine undies and slip, that he dropped his skirt in front of me, out there in the open (thankfully, he had tights on, but still). I told him that behavior like that was going to have concerned parents in the neighborhood calling the police. He was a literal magnet for awful experiences--all of his own unconscious creation.
With me, he was harmless--I was just a safe space--but he knew where I lived and would come knocking at my door every now and then, asking me to keep an eye out for clothes for him. The last time he knocked, I was ready with a letter I'd written for him. He was so caught up in himself and his sad and pitiful story when we'd talk, that he'd never actually listen to me whenever I did manage to slip in a few words. I was done trying to figure out how to handle his issues and his rage (along with all the "stupid men" jokes) and I was done with his visits to my door. I told him that as long as he was unwilling to embrace his masculine aspect (along with his feminine), it didn't matter what parts he got cut off, he was still going to be miserable. And that was how I ended our interactions.
Kryon stated in a channel this past year that when we switch genders, it takes three lifetimes to make that shift on all the levels of consciousness--thus the confusion manifested by those like John/Amy. Once again, it comes back to the creation of a SAFE and SACRED SPACE of unconditional acceptance of everyone in our lives. John/Amy, in the throes of trying to hide and not hide herself, was more of a danger while trying to keep a secret than he was if he would have felt accepted simply for being as he was.
I still remember his rage that I felt as if it was my own--it took me going to my safe brother and a favorite hill out on our farm in ND to feel safe enough to get it out. Solitude is truly golden in its healing.
There is a running theme through all these stories: Simply go to the mirror, and from now on, gaze into the eyes of the human who has tried so hard to be accepted and appreciated. Acknowledge the guilt and the shame that you feel surfacing: "Ah-Ha!--I see you!"--I bid you good riddance.
We all do crazy things when we feel so lost in our stories and identities. And remember that your life is a gift--to you, to the Eternal One, to All--no matter how it manifests.
Basically, I recommend everyone quit hauling that guilt and shame B.S. around like it's some religious, self-sacrificing cross to bear. Frankly--I was no fun to be around when that yammering, self-condemning voice was running the show. In the past, I hypnotically played the part of the energy/life sucker in many scenarios--BUT IN TRUTH, THAT WASN'T THE REAL ME. And the more self-aware and self-loving I've become in place of the blind self-loathing and condemnation, the more unconditionally accepting, fun and easier I am with everyone.
Drop the protective ego armor and the weapons. When I open my heart and mind to life--life opens up for me, and all those old battles fall away...it's just a matter of LIKING MYSELF and choosing the easy path for a change. We don't have to prove a thing to anyone.
Once again, none of us REALLY does anything wrong on this safe, Eternal One-given stage where we play things out together and grow in wisdom every step of the way. It's truly time to take the pressure off ourselves and breathe that freedom in (close our eyes and actually FEEL IT within)--to let ourselves dance, letting our lives out of the box of old expectations, by releasing at last, the guilt, the shame and all that misery and suffering that accompanies them.
How many wonder-filled experiences have you had when guilt was the foundation they were created upon?
On the many walks I used to take around the lakes and along the Minnehaha Parkway in Minneapolis, I was approached by three individuals, on separate occasions, named John--and, no, I've never done the prostitution thing in this particular lifetime. But, still, I find myself grinning at the funny synchronicity of their names along with my own: John and Penny L. There is a character named John Peniel that caught my attention years ago, and the meaning of his name is "The Beloved Face of God." I guess it's probably one of those inside jokes I pretty much can only share with myself.
While it appeared these men were seeking a safe space with me, they actually turned out to be teachers for me--making me more fully aware of myself and the inner issues most humans deal with--guilt and shame, and the misery that accompanies them. So this post is in honor of these men--thank you for gracing my life, My Beloved Johns--and well done!
The first one saw me walking and said I appeared to be deep in prayer as I walked (I was actually just working through my own stuff, discovering a few answers for myself with each step). He asked if he could just talk with me a bit--he was feeling lost, and said that it was easier to talk more freely to a stranger than someone he knew. He approached me in a setting where there were people all around, my neck hairs didn't rise, so we sat and talked. He'd divorced recently and the business he ran was tied to his in-laws--not an easy situation. That was pretty much it--he just needed to have someone listen as he worked things out his own way, but by saying it out loud. I would run across him in my walks a few times over the span of a handful of years, and I think of him as my friend.
The last time he shared with me that he was struggling with feelings of guilt--he said he was raised Catholic, and that the guilt thing seemed to come with the territory. The funny thing is, that I've read that line in so many books and heard it from so many other people (many of them, Catholic) over the years, that I do wonder at the connection. As you can see from my many posts throughout, Catholics aren't the only ones--I struggled with that one, too. I remember telling him, that, for me, it was all about learning to practice love of oneself. In the years we visited, I went from having parents to losing them both, and I was going deeper and deeper into my own awakening. John seemed to see me when I'd made a personal breakthrough in some area--and that helped me by giving me someone to express these ah-ha!s out loud to, as well. We'd catch up a bit on profound things and then go our separate ways.
I was again walking alone along the creek (though surrounded by a few people) when John #2 looked into my eyes and saw someone he felt safe with, too. He asked if he could talk with me, so we sat on a picnic bench and visited until the sun began to get low enough that it turned cool, and, gentleman that he was, he loaned me his long-sleeved shirt as covering. He had served time for armed robbery and murder, and had been currently released and was staying with a Christian couple. He had been using alcohol as a coping tool, and they were trying to help him stay sober. He was in a moral dilemma at the time--didn't tell me anything specific, but was trying to figure out what was the right way to go. All that came to me to share with him at that time was to first go to the mirror, look himself in the eyes, and apologize to himself for being so hard on himself.
I looked into the mirror one day, prior to talking with John, and realized how much I'd been mentally beating upon myself--I had been merciless and relentless in the degradation of myself until that day. I gazed into the tear-filled eyes of a simple human who had been trying so hard to please me! I hardly ever gave myself the benefit of the doubt--though I was almost always willing to do that with anyone else outside of me.
I had seen John #3 many times in walks around the lake, and he'd never acknowledged me. The day he did approach, I knew that he was going to the moment we met that time--we were going opposite directions. I had just had an insight into my own childhood experience highlighting the sexual energy virus in consciousness (see my earlier post, Overcoming the Victimhood Addiction), and I knew someone with that struggle was going to approach me.
I think of him as John/Amy. He was a woman in a man's body, living with his macho brothers, trying to keep his feminine side secret from them, while trying to steal away moments to dress as the beautiful woman--aka, Amy--he so desired to be. His rage and anger at everything male emanated in waves off him--and empath that I was, I managed to feel that suppressed energy like it was my own. It was awful. He was so crazed with his secret that he was putting himself in situations that were dangerous to himself and others.
He wanted me to see him dressed as a girl, so I met him in a park right across from some homes. He was so caught up in showing me his feminine undies and slip, that he dropped his skirt in front of me, out there in the open (thankfully, he had tights on, but still). I told him that behavior like that was going to have concerned parents in the neighborhood calling the police. He was a literal magnet for awful experiences--all of his own unconscious creation.
With me, he was harmless--I was just a safe space--but he knew where I lived and would come knocking at my door every now and then, asking me to keep an eye out for clothes for him. The last time he knocked, I was ready with a letter I'd written for him. He was so caught up in himself and his sad and pitiful story when we'd talk, that he'd never actually listen to me whenever I did manage to slip in a few words. I was done trying to figure out how to handle his issues and his rage (along with all the "stupid men" jokes) and I was done with his visits to my door. I told him that as long as he was unwilling to embrace his masculine aspect (along with his feminine), it didn't matter what parts he got cut off, he was still going to be miserable. And that was how I ended our interactions.
Kryon stated in a channel this past year that when we switch genders, it takes three lifetimes to make that shift on all the levels of consciousness--thus the confusion manifested by those like John/Amy. Once again, it comes back to the creation of a SAFE and SACRED SPACE of unconditional acceptance of everyone in our lives. John/Amy, in the throes of trying to hide and not hide herself, was more of a danger while trying to keep a secret than he was if he would have felt accepted simply for being as he was.
I still remember his rage that I felt as if it was my own--it took me going to my safe brother and a favorite hill out on our farm in ND to feel safe enough to get it out. Solitude is truly golden in its healing.
There is a running theme through all these stories: Simply go to the mirror, and from now on, gaze into the eyes of the human who has tried so hard to be accepted and appreciated. Acknowledge the guilt and the shame that you feel surfacing: "Ah-Ha!--I see you!"--I bid you good riddance.
We all do crazy things when we feel so lost in our stories and identities. And remember that your life is a gift--to you, to the Eternal One, to All--no matter how it manifests.
Basically, I recommend everyone quit hauling that guilt and shame B.S. around like it's some religious, self-sacrificing cross to bear. Frankly--I was no fun to be around when that yammering, self-condemning voice was running the show. In the past, I hypnotically played the part of the energy/life sucker in many scenarios--BUT IN TRUTH, THAT WASN'T THE REAL ME. And the more self-aware and self-loving I've become in place of the blind self-loathing and condemnation, the more unconditionally accepting, fun and easier I am with everyone.
Drop the protective ego armor and the weapons. When I open my heart and mind to life--life opens up for me, and all those old battles fall away...it's just a matter of LIKING MYSELF and choosing the easy path for a change. We don't have to prove a thing to anyone.
Once again, none of us REALLY does anything wrong on this safe, Eternal One-given stage where we play things out together and grow in wisdom every step of the way. It's truly time to take the pressure off ourselves and breathe that freedom in (close our eyes and actually FEEL IT within)--to let ourselves dance, letting our lives out of the box of old expectations, by releasing at last, the guilt, the shame and all that misery and suffering that accompanies them.
How many wonder-filled experiences have you had when guilt was the foundation they were created upon?
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Let's Talk About Death
"Let the dead bury the dead...."
This seemingly harsh response that Yeshua (Christians know this man as Jesus) gave the young man who was torn between following Yeshua and his desire to first bury his dad, kept running through my mind almost like a mantra those last days as the life of my beloved Max cat slipped away from my perception. I had told my husband weeks before that I was done burying corpses, and thankfully, he handled all of that for me--and I, by no means, think of my husband as being one of the dead. He performed a service for me, because I still had a corpse to deal with, much as I so wanted it to turn out differently this time around.
Over 2000 years later, and here I am, still burying corpses. Why? And I'm still completely certain that my beloved pets have all been helping me to break through this really dense belief system where we just accept it as fact that life actually ends.
What if no life ever really ends? What if just the story--an identity--ends, and then it transforms into something new, and when that is done, changes yet again? And what if we could continue to perceive each other regardless of the form? And is a belief in death the only thing keeping me from seeing and touching my lost loves?
"Come to me as little children..."
For me, the above statement (another of Yeshua's) means, "Set aside your education, all your grown-up views and belief systems for a moment, and then we'll take a look at things before your immersion in your human-ness got everything so complicated and muddy. Your knowledge is important to the wisdom gained--just allow that knowledge to flex and to flow and to expand naturally."
A few days ago, I went back into my childhood and remembered the first experiences I had with death. I read a great deal and loved stories about animals. I loved "Old Yeller" until the end of the book where the boy had to shoot his dog who got rabies. TV made it a movie, and I can't say that it was entertaining or fun. It not only made me afraid of death, but rabies seemed to be possible every time I turned around and interacted with an animal.
As for the deaths of people--I learned that most people wear black to a mourning ritual called a funeral, and even though the same verse is read ("Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."), and the same hymn (Amazing Grace), and even though all kinds of people gather together to honor the ones who have passed and to try to comfort those they leave behind--well, the pain and suffering is still there for those still here. No one deserves such pain. I don't like the powerless feeling of not being able to truly comfort someone who is hurting. I choose to have some REAL answers.
To sum all of these memories together, I basically learned from well-meaning, but most often, sad, powerless-feeling--sometimes even guilty-feeling--adults that "dead" meant "gone for good." That we would never perceive or see dead loved ones again.
As to what it was like to experience death--well, no one wanted to even talk about it much because of the fear of drawing it to yourself before you were ready.
All the loved ones I've lost over the years, whether people or pets, I've interacted with in my nightly dream state--I've done this throughout my entire life. At some point though, as I surfaced into this reality consciousness--what we think of as being awake--my human mind would kick in and always remind me (leaving me heart-broken and bereft all over again) that they were "really dead."
Now I'm looking at death as a belief system that I over-indulged in--my own experiences seem to be pointing this out to me. Would my past experiences surrounding death of my loved ones have been different had I instead viewed death as a transformation--a change into a form that I COULD STILL PERCEIVE from my state as a human? Maybe I could have awakened refreshed and smiling with the memories of my interactions in my dreams.
Close your eyes for a moment and imagine with me a new, open-ended conversation about death between an adult and a child. Feel into yourself playing both the role of child and the role of adult:
Child: "What does it mean to be dead? What does dead look like? Am I going to die? Does it hurt? Can we still talk to those who have died? Where do dead people go?"
Adult: "You know, I wonder about all of that, too. How about we explore it together? When you have ideas, share them with me. And when I discover something, I'll share it with you."
I've read and heard all kinds of stories of children and adults interacting with those who have crossed the veil. I've read and heard all kinds of stories about near-death experiences.
After the experience I had with my own dad's death, I resonated with the concept of dreamwalking (as introduced through Adamus Saint Germain via Crimson Circle) with our dead loved ones. Dreamwalking is simply walking beside those who have died, as a comforting and reassuring presence. You don't interfere or advise the person transforming--you're simply in a dream state--a quiet agenda-free radiant lighthouse, walking alongside them, whatever path the person chooses. *Dreamwalking is NOT to be done with suicides or mentally imbalanced cases, as the highly confused, victim feeding energies can be too entangling and dangerous to the person trying to help.*
I've realized I don't have any desire to be the grown-up who thinks she has to have the well-meant, but tough, answers for the young ones--I'd rather keep my mind and heart open to the possibilities that life in all its forms and transformations is something to be embraced and to be spoken about openly. Maybe death doesn't have to be so hard and frightening for anyone.
What if there are truly happy endings possible--and I've been letting old beliefs get in the way of my experiencing them............?
This seemingly harsh response that Yeshua (Christians know this man as Jesus) gave the young man who was torn between following Yeshua and his desire to first bury his dad, kept running through my mind almost like a mantra those last days as the life of my beloved Max cat slipped away from my perception. I had told my husband weeks before that I was done burying corpses, and thankfully, he handled all of that for me--and I, by no means, think of my husband as being one of the dead. He performed a service for me, because I still had a corpse to deal with, much as I so wanted it to turn out differently this time around.
Over 2000 years later, and here I am, still burying corpses. Why? And I'm still completely certain that my beloved pets have all been helping me to break through this really dense belief system where we just accept it as fact that life actually ends.
What if no life ever really ends? What if just the story--an identity--ends, and then it transforms into something new, and when that is done, changes yet again? And what if we could continue to perceive each other regardless of the form? And is a belief in death the only thing keeping me from seeing and touching my lost loves?
"Come to me as little children..."
For me, the above statement (another of Yeshua's) means, "Set aside your education, all your grown-up views and belief systems for a moment, and then we'll take a look at things before your immersion in your human-ness got everything so complicated and muddy. Your knowledge is important to the wisdom gained--just allow that knowledge to flex and to flow and to expand naturally."
A few days ago, I went back into my childhood and remembered the first experiences I had with death. I read a great deal and loved stories about animals. I loved "Old Yeller" until the end of the book where the boy had to shoot his dog who got rabies. TV made it a movie, and I can't say that it was entertaining or fun. It not only made me afraid of death, but rabies seemed to be possible every time I turned around and interacted with an animal.
As for the deaths of people--I learned that most people wear black to a mourning ritual called a funeral, and even though the same verse is read ("Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death..."), and the same hymn (Amazing Grace), and even though all kinds of people gather together to honor the ones who have passed and to try to comfort those they leave behind--well, the pain and suffering is still there for those still here. No one deserves such pain. I don't like the powerless feeling of not being able to truly comfort someone who is hurting. I choose to have some REAL answers.
To sum all of these memories together, I basically learned from well-meaning, but most often, sad, powerless-feeling--sometimes even guilty-feeling--adults that "dead" meant "gone for good." That we would never perceive or see dead loved ones again.
As to what it was like to experience death--well, no one wanted to even talk about it much because of the fear of drawing it to yourself before you were ready.
All the loved ones I've lost over the years, whether people or pets, I've interacted with in my nightly dream state--I've done this throughout my entire life. At some point though, as I surfaced into this reality consciousness--what we think of as being awake--my human mind would kick in and always remind me (leaving me heart-broken and bereft all over again) that they were "really dead."
Now I'm looking at death as a belief system that I over-indulged in--my own experiences seem to be pointing this out to me. Would my past experiences surrounding death of my loved ones have been different had I instead viewed death as a transformation--a change into a form that I COULD STILL PERCEIVE from my state as a human? Maybe I could have awakened refreshed and smiling with the memories of my interactions in my dreams.
Close your eyes for a moment and imagine with me a new, open-ended conversation about death between an adult and a child. Feel into yourself playing both the role of child and the role of adult:
Child: "What does it mean to be dead? What does dead look like? Am I going to die? Does it hurt? Can we still talk to those who have died? Where do dead people go?"
Adult: "You know, I wonder about all of that, too. How about we explore it together? When you have ideas, share them with me. And when I discover something, I'll share it with you."
I've read and heard all kinds of stories of children and adults interacting with those who have crossed the veil. I've read and heard all kinds of stories about near-death experiences.
After the experience I had with my own dad's death, I resonated with the concept of dreamwalking (as introduced through Adamus Saint Germain via Crimson Circle) with our dead loved ones. Dreamwalking is simply walking beside those who have died, as a comforting and reassuring presence. You don't interfere or advise the person transforming--you're simply in a dream state--a quiet agenda-free radiant lighthouse, walking alongside them, whatever path the person chooses. *Dreamwalking is NOT to be done with suicides or mentally imbalanced cases, as the highly confused, victim feeding energies can be too entangling and dangerous to the person trying to help.*
I've realized I don't have any desire to be the grown-up who thinks she has to have the well-meant, but tough, answers for the young ones--I'd rather keep my mind and heart open to the possibilities that life in all its forms and transformations is something to be embraced and to be spoken about openly. Maybe death doesn't have to be so hard and frightening for anyone.
What if there are truly happy endings possible--and I've been letting old beliefs get in the way of my experiencing them............?
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Physical Symptoms Of My Awakening Self-Awareness & Sovereign Healthcare
I see my life, my body, my mind, my spirit--All That I Am--as complete and naturally self-sufficient, self-balancing, and self-rejuvenating. I always felt that The Eternal One placed everything I needed to exist, and to have abundant happiness, right here inside of me--that I didn't need to worship any deities, enter any specific place or building, purchase any healing tools or do anything in a disciplined way. I just had to remember how to tap into ALL THAT I AM.
This is why I seldom sought out medical or professional services in the last couple of decades when it came to my health. It was too easy to get caught up in a diagnosis story and never get out of that self-made prison. I observed others, as well as myself, playing out our diagnoses--even enjoying it because of the attention it got us from others--though we don't like to admit that, do we? I admit, sometimes I've felt so overlooked by others around me that I've tried out the I'm sick and dying over here--do you care about me now? path, too. It worked for a moment, and then I was left feeling hungry again--kind of like a drug addict, I suppose.
The first times that I had the physical symptoms hit, I was so new to all these concepts of true self-responsibility that I got really scared, wondered if it was going to be my last breath on Earth, wondering what I did wrong. Being scared tightened up already rigidly tense/long-stuck energies in my body and made the symptoms even more painful.
The Universe gave me teachers in the form of insights and people and I was reminded to just breathe into the pain. I literally talked myself through pain of all kinds:
Just breathe, Pen. Close your eyes and follow the pain to its source and center. You're okay. We're okay. Just breathe, honey. You didn't do anything wrong--you just have some old stuff coming loose to be released from your life. Setting a broken leg hurts, doesn't it? You're healing--it's going to hurt a bit, but you need not suffer with pain for so long anymore. It's okay to cry--tears flush out toxins. It's okay to even scream and yell to help your voice loosen and speak your truth, no matter if you're rejected for it or not. You're just shifting. You're transforming from a caterpillar to a butterfly--they don't even resemble each other, do they. That's how big this shift is. Just breathe...I'm so glad you're here. This is amazing--you're so much more than you ever humanly believed, and the beauty of you is that you see that in everyone and everything...........keep breathing, Honey--we don't want to miss out on this...........
I've been mentally reviewing the last decade. If I had sought medical attention for every symptom I experienced I would have been labeled a hypochondriac and probably mentally off-my-rocker crazy. I truly had no safe place to go for help except inside myself.
I still have moments of exhaustion where I can't function mentally or physically until I've gotten horizontal and closed my eyes--sometimes it's only a few minutes, sometimes I'm out for 2-3 hours, and sometimes I'm not feeling completely embodied until long after I wake up. Usually this happens when I have a profound, life-changing insight surfacing so I allow myself to do so without judgment about my "being lazy." Early on, I used to feel so frustrated with this because I was afraid that I was letting life pass me by with all that napping--but I was helpfully reminded that the understandings I was gaining were less likely to blow my mind and body circuitry by resting them and allowing the insights to flow in more freely. I had to break through layer upon layer of mental belief systems. And this was the most gentle and easy pathway through.
I had erratic heart rhythms, sometimes sharp pains that took my breath momentarily away. I did whatever struck me to do in the moment. I was constantly reassuring myself that I was okay, that it was just shifting.
I have to say, I'm not afraid of dying (haven't been that way for a long time) and I have a strong sense that I have a choice as to whether or not I live or die, moment by moment--so I know that has a tremendous influence on my perception of these symptoms. If you're afraid of death--study it. Look for ideas that resonate with you, that bring you peace and comfort. Because we all die, don't we....And it's the loved ones we leave behind who suffer the most. But that's a whole blog in itself.
Another one is stomach bloating. I've learned to not eat foods or even take medicines that don't feel appealing to eat or ingest in the moment at hand. I quit popcorn for a whole year, and then suddenly started enjoying it again, though now, I only like the smaller, white kernels--because they have a nuttier flavor. I never did like microwave stuff and that has stayed the same. Food preferences change constantly and I've found I don't follow any dietary rules anymore--I follow my body's cravings and how it feels afterwards, and I've gotten more present while I eat (used to just cram stuff down without really tasting it because I believed I needed to eat to stay alive). I eat chocolate and I eat sweets, but I have noticed that I enjoy plain unadulterated fresh fruit more than processed sweets and baked goods anymore. I also don't seem to eat as much, though I can still pack away the French Fries. When in doubt, I remind myself to quit doubting myself.......and enjoy the frickin' food! When I bloat up, I get a hot pad, sometimes down a couple tablespoons of blackberry brandy--that's my personal remedy, and it may not work for anyone else.
Dizziness and mental fogginess are also quite common symptoms. I have a tendency to faint or pass out from stomach cramps, so after a few episodes of coming to on the floor with bruises and cuts, I've learned to stay low and move slowly when I'm feeling the least bit light-headed or dizzy. Sitting on a chair with my head on the table IS NOT low enough either, FYI--get your head down below your knee level right away. I still feel a bit on the dizzy side again lately, but it's nowhere near as bad as it used to be years ago. I just move with care and more slowly, making sure my feet are planted on the steps and that I'm using the handrail.
Head and ear pain--sometimes sharp, sometimes a general area throbbing that's difficult to narrow down, sinus congestion, blurry vision--these all come and go. Most of this I use whatever intuitively hits me to do in the moment, and most often that is simply giving myself permission to lie down and rest until it passes. I see all pain as temporary and the easier I make it for myself to move it through, the quicker it will pass. Humans have a tendency to medicate to mask the pain a bit so they can keep moving and being busy. Trying to force my body to keep running often catapulted me into more painful, longer-lasting symptoms. It got to be so that I didn't care whether others thought me lazy or low in pain tolerance. I gradually started embracing my body and started having a relationship with it once again--and that has been more rewarding than someone patting me on my back for my self-sacrificial work ethic.
The symptom that has probably kept me awake at night the most is the joint pain. For awhile, aspirin, Tylenol and Aleve helped--and I've used even those things very sparingly over the years. I have had a prescription for muscle relaxers a couple times, but I don't like how they make me feel, so I only used them a handful of times in extreme moments. In the past year, the medications don't do anything anymore. I wake up a couple times or more in the night (sometimes having to grab the headboard frame in order to lever myself up from the bed), I always use the bathroom (its an energy release), sometimes stretch or walk to the other end of the house (my cats like me escorting them down to their food dishes in the wee hours--smiling), have my husband deeply massage a specific area if it's really bad. Nice warm baths and warm soft cotton, body-encasing pajamas feel really good.
Another symptom is the lump-in-the-throat sensation, accompanied by coughing fits. I used to get this all the time when I had old life-story wounds coming to the surface of my awareness and I needed to allow myself to let them be expressed. I always used to experience the lumps when I returned home to my family, which used to astound me, because I really like my biological family. But then I realized that my identity has been established the longest with my family and that a rejection by any one of them was probably going to be the most painful rejection of all. While I was apart from my family, I had more profound insights in myself. Then I'd go home and automatically fall into my old established role has the youngest sister and the 2nd-to-youngest sibling--the one who wanted to please everyone. And the one who made all the truths of those around her, whom she loved so much, her own--without question as to whether those accepted suggestions really resonated within her.
I had to disconnect from my family members for a bit so I could see them more clearly, as well as myself. It was worth the time apart--there is a lot less relation-shit. I've gotten much better at just letting myself be, knowing I simply appreciate us, each and all--not just because we are family who we think we're obligated to love, but because I see them as my friends--people and beings that I genuinely like to be with.
I've had weird symptoms:
About 7 years ago, after having become aware that there were physical symptoms of awakening, I couldn't stretch my right (dominant) arm in any direction without a body-wrenching shock of pain. My husband actually shared this symptom with me. We quit stretching our arms overhead in bed upon first waking up in the morning, and we became quite adept at using our left hands. Even reaching down into a cupboard would slam a shock through. This lasted nearly a year. The left brain (masculine/reasoning side) controls the limbs on the right side of the body--and I'd experienced most of my life left-brained dominant. The right brain (feminine/intuitive side) was waking up in me so my body was supporting my exercising my sleepy right-brained functions by making me use my left hand. In hindsight I can see it all so clearly now--it was a form of natural physical therapy--but at the time, it was really strange.
I used to feel extreme pressure at the very tip of my tailbone--to the extent that it felt bruised and battered, but I'd done nothing to injure myself, nor did it appear black and blue. It just felt that way. Our energy runs along our spines and sometimes the pressure of new light-energy coming in is made more painful due to old stuck energies blocking up the path. Neck, shoulder and lower back pain are very common awakening symptoms. I've dealt with it in all those areas--even lately. I had to quit walking and gardening for a good year due to the pain in my knees and hips--I used to be able to walk and stretch things out, but it no longer worked that way--forcing things made it worse. I am walking again, but I still have days when I just realize that it is probably better to not walk that day. I found comfort in knowing that it was just a temporary thing. By temporary, I include everything from the feeling of a symptom for just a moment to days, weeks, months and even years of some of these things--but they all do eventually pass.
A few years ago I was especially sensitive to crowds for awhile. I'd be walking along in the mall or Walmart and suddenly couldn't step forward. It was really embarrassing, and the more silly and agitated I felt about it and the more I tried to force myself to move, the more leaden my leg, the more stuck I was. I used to have to try to discreetly beg my husband to slow up and wait for me for a moment, so I could take a moment to consciously breathe and center myself--and, like magic, I could walk again. I learned to exercise self-compassion here--I couldn't just shake it off and force myself to walk. Forcing didn't work.
The skin is the largest organ with the ability to excrete or release old toxins/old energy--I've had my share of skin rashes come and go, too. Warm sea-salt only water baths have helped, along with wearing loose-fitting natural fibers like cotton.
Just so you know, too, all of this shifting affects all physical body parts--including the sex parts--so if you find yourself in some bewildering experiences in those areas, please know you're not alone, and that you'll be okay there, too. Some stuff is just too personal to share in a blog.
A couple of weeks ago, as I grabbed my walking shoes in preparation for a walk with my husband, my ankle had a pain hit that was like hitting my not-so-funny bone in the elbow. It affected my entire leg to the extent that I wasn't going to be able to walk--it hurt to touch it. But it only lasted a few minutes at the most, and we walked just fine shortly afterwards. I get a lot of foot cramps and pain in the joints of my feet lately. It's gotten so I prefer going barefoot.
I realize this stuff sounds awful, but the symptoms have lessened in intensity over the years, especially as I've let go of my fears surrounding them. Initially, anytime a symptom would pop up I used to find myself over-analyzing everything, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong.
Now I just look at it as being a part of an amazingly grand shift on all levels of consciousness--physical bodies included. I actually think of it all as shifting and there is no more fear to it. The symptoms aren't nearly as painful in intensity compared to the early years--I've actually forgotten the pain. In trying to remember my own experiences for this blog, I've been astounded how much I've moved through. A person just goes through it moment by moment--ALWAYS BREATHING it through--and once the pain is gone, you forget it.
The personally freeing insights have been worth the journey every step of the way.
Not all awakening symptoms are painful. I've had warm, tingly sensations in my head and throughout my body. I discover myself smiling with the experience--it's like a warm, lovingly gentle touch, a reminder that I'm not alone.
As for that whole healthcare issue that our politicians have legislated--it doesn't matter to me. I AM the sovereign of my body domain--no one outside of me can legislate that or affect me if I choose to no longer give them that power. I simply stepped out of the game. Those that want can play it to their hearts content, but I choose to no longer play in the game of giving my gift of life, or my sovereignty, away.
Related Posts: Just click on the highlighted titles or phrases:
I Don't Like Diagnosing or Labeling of Dis-Ease: Here's Why...
Physical Symptoms of My Awakening, Part 2
This is why I seldom sought out medical or professional services in the last couple of decades when it came to my health. It was too easy to get caught up in a diagnosis story and never get out of that self-made prison. I observed others, as well as myself, playing out our diagnoses--even enjoying it because of the attention it got us from others--though we don't like to admit that, do we? I admit, sometimes I've felt so overlooked by others around me that I've tried out the I'm sick and dying over here--do you care about me now? path, too. It worked for a moment, and then I was left feeling hungry again--kind of like a drug addict, I suppose.
The first times that I had the physical symptoms hit, I was so new to all these concepts of true self-responsibility that I got really scared, wondered if it was going to be my last breath on Earth, wondering what I did wrong. Being scared tightened up already rigidly tense/long-stuck energies in my body and made the symptoms even more painful.
The Universe gave me teachers in the form of insights and people and I was reminded to just breathe into the pain. I literally talked myself through pain of all kinds:
Just breathe, Pen. Close your eyes and follow the pain to its source and center. You're okay. We're okay. Just breathe, honey. You didn't do anything wrong--you just have some old stuff coming loose to be released from your life. Setting a broken leg hurts, doesn't it? You're healing--it's going to hurt a bit, but you need not suffer with pain for so long anymore. It's okay to cry--tears flush out toxins. It's okay to even scream and yell to help your voice loosen and speak your truth, no matter if you're rejected for it or not. You're just shifting. You're transforming from a caterpillar to a butterfly--they don't even resemble each other, do they. That's how big this shift is. Just breathe...I'm so glad you're here. This is amazing--you're so much more than you ever humanly believed, and the beauty of you is that you see that in everyone and everything...........keep breathing, Honey--we don't want to miss out on this...........
I've been mentally reviewing the last decade. If I had sought medical attention for every symptom I experienced I would have been labeled a hypochondriac and probably mentally off-my-rocker crazy. I truly had no safe place to go for help except inside myself.
I still have moments of exhaustion where I can't function mentally or physically until I've gotten horizontal and closed my eyes--sometimes it's only a few minutes, sometimes I'm out for 2-3 hours, and sometimes I'm not feeling completely embodied until long after I wake up. Usually this happens when I have a profound, life-changing insight surfacing so I allow myself to do so without judgment about my "being lazy." Early on, I used to feel so frustrated with this because I was afraid that I was letting life pass me by with all that napping--but I was helpfully reminded that the understandings I was gaining were less likely to blow my mind and body circuitry by resting them and allowing the insights to flow in more freely. I had to break through layer upon layer of mental belief systems. And this was the most gentle and easy pathway through.
I had erratic heart rhythms, sometimes sharp pains that took my breath momentarily away. I did whatever struck me to do in the moment. I was constantly reassuring myself that I was okay, that it was just shifting.
I have to say, I'm not afraid of dying (haven't been that way for a long time) and I have a strong sense that I have a choice as to whether or not I live or die, moment by moment--so I know that has a tremendous influence on my perception of these symptoms. If you're afraid of death--study it. Look for ideas that resonate with you, that bring you peace and comfort. Because we all die, don't we....And it's the loved ones we leave behind who suffer the most. But that's a whole blog in itself.
Another one is stomach bloating. I've learned to not eat foods or even take medicines that don't feel appealing to eat or ingest in the moment at hand. I quit popcorn for a whole year, and then suddenly started enjoying it again, though now, I only like the smaller, white kernels--because they have a nuttier flavor. I never did like microwave stuff and that has stayed the same. Food preferences change constantly and I've found I don't follow any dietary rules anymore--I follow my body's cravings and how it feels afterwards, and I've gotten more present while I eat (used to just cram stuff down without really tasting it because I believed I needed to eat to stay alive). I eat chocolate and I eat sweets, but I have noticed that I enjoy plain unadulterated fresh fruit more than processed sweets and baked goods anymore. I also don't seem to eat as much, though I can still pack away the French Fries. When in doubt, I remind myself to quit doubting myself.......and enjoy the frickin' food! When I bloat up, I get a hot pad, sometimes down a couple tablespoons of blackberry brandy--that's my personal remedy, and it may not work for anyone else.
Dizziness and mental fogginess are also quite common symptoms. I have a tendency to faint or pass out from stomach cramps, so after a few episodes of coming to on the floor with bruises and cuts, I've learned to stay low and move slowly when I'm feeling the least bit light-headed or dizzy. Sitting on a chair with my head on the table IS NOT low enough either, FYI--get your head down below your knee level right away. I still feel a bit on the dizzy side again lately, but it's nowhere near as bad as it used to be years ago. I just move with care and more slowly, making sure my feet are planted on the steps and that I'm using the handrail.
Head and ear pain--sometimes sharp, sometimes a general area throbbing that's difficult to narrow down, sinus congestion, blurry vision--these all come and go. Most of this I use whatever intuitively hits me to do in the moment, and most often that is simply giving myself permission to lie down and rest until it passes. I see all pain as temporary and the easier I make it for myself to move it through, the quicker it will pass. Humans have a tendency to medicate to mask the pain a bit so they can keep moving and being busy. Trying to force my body to keep running often catapulted me into more painful, longer-lasting symptoms. It got to be so that I didn't care whether others thought me lazy or low in pain tolerance. I gradually started embracing my body and started having a relationship with it once again--and that has been more rewarding than someone patting me on my back for my self-sacrificial work ethic.
The symptom that has probably kept me awake at night the most is the joint pain. For awhile, aspirin, Tylenol and Aleve helped--and I've used even those things very sparingly over the years. I have had a prescription for muscle relaxers a couple times, but I don't like how they make me feel, so I only used them a handful of times in extreme moments. In the past year, the medications don't do anything anymore. I wake up a couple times or more in the night (sometimes having to grab the headboard frame in order to lever myself up from the bed), I always use the bathroom (its an energy release), sometimes stretch or walk to the other end of the house (my cats like me escorting them down to their food dishes in the wee hours--smiling), have my husband deeply massage a specific area if it's really bad. Nice warm baths and warm soft cotton, body-encasing pajamas feel really good.
Another symptom is the lump-in-the-throat sensation, accompanied by coughing fits. I used to get this all the time when I had old life-story wounds coming to the surface of my awareness and I needed to allow myself to let them be expressed. I always used to experience the lumps when I returned home to my family, which used to astound me, because I really like my biological family. But then I realized that my identity has been established the longest with my family and that a rejection by any one of them was probably going to be the most painful rejection of all. While I was apart from my family, I had more profound insights in myself. Then I'd go home and automatically fall into my old established role has the youngest sister and the 2nd-to-youngest sibling--the one who wanted to please everyone. And the one who made all the truths of those around her, whom she loved so much, her own--without question as to whether those accepted suggestions really resonated within her.
I had to disconnect from my family members for a bit so I could see them more clearly, as well as myself. It was worth the time apart--there is a lot less relation-shit. I've gotten much better at just letting myself be, knowing I simply appreciate us, each and all--not just because we are family who we think we're obligated to love, but because I see them as my friends--people and beings that I genuinely like to be with.
I've had weird symptoms:
About 7 years ago, after having become aware that there were physical symptoms of awakening, I couldn't stretch my right (dominant) arm in any direction without a body-wrenching shock of pain. My husband actually shared this symptom with me. We quit stretching our arms overhead in bed upon first waking up in the morning, and we became quite adept at using our left hands. Even reaching down into a cupboard would slam a shock through. This lasted nearly a year. The left brain (masculine/reasoning side) controls the limbs on the right side of the body--and I'd experienced most of my life left-brained dominant. The right brain (feminine/intuitive side) was waking up in me so my body was supporting my exercising my sleepy right-brained functions by making me use my left hand. In hindsight I can see it all so clearly now--it was a form of natural physical therapy--but at the time, it was really strange.
I used to feel extreme pressure at the very tip of my tailbone--to the extent that it felt bruised and battered, but I'd done nothing to injure myself, nor did it appear black and blue. It just felt that way. Our energy runs along our spines and sometimes the pressure of new light-energy coming in is made more painful due to old stuck energies blocking up the path. Neck, shoulder and lower back pain are very common awakening symptoms. I've dealt with it in all those areas--even lately. I had to quit walking and gardening for a good year due to the pain in my knees and hips--I used to be able to walk and stretch things out, but it no longer worked that way--forcing things made it worse. I am walking again, but I still have days when I just realize that it is probably better to not walk that day. I found comfort in knowing that it was just a temporary thing. By temporary, I include everything from the feeling of a symptom for just a moment to days, weeks, months and even years of some of these things--but they all do eventually pass.
A few years ago I was especially sensitive to crowds for awhile. I'd be walking along in the mall or Walmart and suddenly couldn't step forward. It was really embarrassing, and the more silly and agitated I felt about it and the more I tried to force myself to move, the more leaden my leg, the more stuck I was. I used to have to try to discreetly beg my husband to slow up and wait for me for a moment, so I could take a moment to consciously breathe and center myself--and, like magic, I could walk again. I learned to exercise self-compassion here--I couldn't just shake it off and force myself to walk. Forcing didn't work.
The skin is the largest organ with the ability to excrete or release old toxins/old energy--I've had my share of skin rashes come and go, too. Warm sea-salt only water baths have helped, along with wearing loose-fitting natural fibers like cotton.
Just so you know, too, all of this shifting affects all physical body parts--including the sex parts--so if you find yourself in some bewildering experiences in those areas, please know you're not alone, and that you'll be okay there, too. Some stuff is just too personal to share in a blog.
A couple of weeks ago, as I grabbed my walking shoes in preparation for a walk with my husband, my ankle had a pain hit that was like hitting my not-so-funny bone in the elbow. It affected my entire leg to the extent that I wasn't going to be able to walk--it hurt to touch it. But it only lasted a few minutes at the most, and we walked just fine shortly afterwards. I get a lot of foot cramps and pain in the joints of my feet lately. It's gotten so I prefer going barefoot.
I realize this stuff sounds awful, but the symptoms have lessened in intensity over the years, especially as I've let go of my fears surrounding them. Initially, anytime a symptom would pop up I used to find myself over-analyzing everything, trying to figure out what I was doing wrong.
Now I just look at it as being a part of an amazingly grand shift on all levels of consciousness--physical bodies included. I actually think of it all as shifting and there is no more fear to it. The symptoms aren't nearly as painful in intensity compared to the early years--I've actually forgotten the pain. In trying to remember my own experiences for this blog, I've been astounded how much I've moved through. A person just goes through it moment by moment--ALWAYS BREATHING it through--and once the pain is gone, you forget it.
The personally freeing insights have been worth the journey every step of the way.
Not all awakening symptoms are painful. I've had warm, tingly sensations in my head and throughout my body. I discover myself smiling with the experience--it's like a warm, lovingly gentle touch, a reminder that I'm not alone.
As for that whole healthcare issue that our politicians have legislated--it doesn't matter to me. I AM the sovereign of my body domain--no one outside of me can legislate that or affect me if I choose to no longer give them that power. I simply stepped out of the game. Those that want can play it to their hearts content, but I choose to no longer play in the game of giving my gift of life, or my sovereignty, away.
Related Posts: Just click on the highlighted titles or phrases:
I Don't Like Diagnosing or Labeling of Dis-Ease: Here's Why...
Physical Symptoms of My Awakening, Part 2
Thursday, September 20, 2012
What I Desire From The FaceBook Experience
You, me, us, sharing our stories and insights from living the experiences--that's why I participate in FaceBook. It's a grand way to connect.
Those that went to high school with me remember me as the (shuddering here) "nice girl with the good grades and the really thick, ugly glasses." It was the seventies and eighties--need I say anymore about the fashion statement that I was? I didn't get the good grades because I had a huge intellect, or because I was a brown-noser. I had decent memorizing abilities, and I caught onto concepts fairly quickly and easily, and--well-trained gopher that I was for certain family members--I was also great at fulfilling the requirements asked of me.
But I'm pretty sure my teachers liked me mainly because I was a respectful and considerate listener. A couple of weeks ago, I was out with my husband celebrating his birthday by going out dancing to one of our favorite bands who were in town--and at the end of the night, one of the performers thanked me for staying to the end.
My favorite memories growing up on the farm are of sitting around the big kitchen table with family friends, relatives, and people just passing through; or in my brothers' room with their friends, listening to the stories everyone had to share. There was so much laughter, and I remember dreading having to go to bed before everyone else in case I missed out on something. I had parents, brothers and sisters who were great story tellers. They'd share some of their most embarrassing moments, and easily laugh at themselves. I loved trips home to re-unite with my family for those reasons--it reminded me to not take myself so seriously, and to take another look at the stuff about myself, see the humor in me.
How does all of this relate to FaceBook? When personal computers first came out, they opened up a whole new world for me. Using a word processor, I could actually type (the typewriters were my nemesis) my thoughts out quickly as they hit and then finesse them up easily later--I started writing. And then e-mail came along and I could easily share those thoughts with another without having to re-write it, stamp it, and then mail it, and then wait a few days for a reply. I was an e-mail junkie--until I started getting inundated with jokes and forwards that people used instead of their own words and stories. I lost the personal connection--and I missed it.
Then a few years ago, along came FaceBook, and the opportunity for me to re-connect with friends and acquaintances that I never expected to meet again--and many of them, on a level I never dreamed I'd be able to achieve with just a few.
It's been fun at times, and I've used it as a tool to come out of hiding and express what I'm really thinking.
It's also been frustrating because it's going the way of e-mail--quotes, sentiments, jokes, political gossip, etc. being forwarded without my "friends" connecting personally with me. Quotes that inspire and uplift, the occasional joke that makes me chuckle--they're all great, but honestly, if a person doesn't share with me how that relates to a story in their life--I'm going to forget it in the blur of forwarded messages. It turns into spam in my consciousness.
Politics, religion, relationship spats--that's all just gossip to me. And gossip is energy-stealing and feeding at its worst. There's not a damn thing I can do about what others say and do, and I don't feel the need to be anyone else's watchdog. In this day and age, anyone out to steal the power from another is going to get slapped right back with what he/she puts out without me having to take a second look at any of them. And people can't steal from me or affect me in any manner unless I'm first handing myself over on a platter saying, "Poor, pitiful me--here I am--Eat ME!" With me, it's all about how to empower myself in my life and thus being able to empower another in theirs.
FaceBook posts for special causes are also irritating in that most of them end in the guilt trip, "Only 99% of people reading this will dare to re-post this as their status..." Because of this line, I WON'T re-post it, and sometimes there's something in the missive that I actually like.
Anyone else remember the old chain letter? FaceBook has it's own version and it uses superstition and fear to get people to re-post nonsense in order to get blessings. Frankly, my beloved friends, I always wish for you the blessing of living your most wildly abundant lives--no strings, no conditions attached.
In short, I just wanted you all to know--it's YOU that I want hear. You ARE the blessings in my life. I AM thankful for FaceBook providing me with the opportunity to participate in sharing ourselves with each other. I hope you'll share yourself with me--I LOVE your stories and personal insights and comedies.
Those that went to high school with me remember me as the (shuddering here) "nice girl with the good grades and the really thick, ugly glasses." It was the seventies and eighties--need I say anymore about the fashion statement that I was? I didn't get the good grades because I had a huge intellect, or because I was a brown-noser. I had decent memorizing abilities, and I caught onto concepts fairly quickly and easily, and--well-trained gopher that I was for certain family members--I was also great at fulfilling the requirements asked of me.
But I'm pretty sure my teachers liked me mainly because I was a respectful and considerate listener. A couple of weeks ago, I was out with my husband celebrating his birthday by going out dancing to one of our favorite bands who were in town--and at the end of the night, one of the performers thanked me for staying to the end.
My favorite memories growing up on the farm are of sitting around the big kitchen table with family friends, relatives, and people just passing through; or in my brothers' room with their friends, listening to the stories everyone had to share. There was so much laughter, and I remember dreading having to go to bed before everyone else in case I missed out on something. I had parents, brothers and sisters who were great story tellers. They'd share some of their most embarrassing moments, and easily laugh at themselves. I loved trips home to re-unite with my family for those reasons--it reminded me to not take myself so seriously, and to take another look at the stuff about myself, see the humor in me.
How does all of this relate to FaceBook? When personal computers first came out, they opened up a whole new world for me. Using a word processor, I could actually type (the typewriters were my nemesis) my thoughts out quickly as they hit and then finesse them up easily later--I started writing. And then e-mail came along and I could easily share those thoughts with another without having to re-write it, stamp it, and then mail it, and then wait a few days for a reply. I was an e-mail junkie--until I started getting inundated with jokes and forwards that people used instead of their own words and stories. I lost the personal connection--and I missed it.
Then a few years ago, along came FaceBook, and the opportunity for me to re-connect with friends and acquaintances that I never expected to meet again--and many of them, on a level I never dreamed I'd be able to achieve with just a few.
It's been fun at times, and I've used it as a tool to come out of hiding and express what I'm really thinking.
It's also been frustrating because it's going the way of e-mail--quotes, sentiments, jokes, political gossip, etc. being forwarded without my "friends" connecting personally with me. Quotes that inspire and uplift, the occasional joke that makes me chuckle--they're all great, but honestly, if a person doesn't share with me how that relates to a story in their life--I'm going to forget it in the blur of forwarded messages. It turns into spam in my consciousness.
Politics, religion, relationship spats--that's all just gossip to me. And gossip is energy-stealing and feeding at its worst. There's not a damn thing I can do about what others say and do, and I don't feel the need to be anyone else's watchdog. In this day and age, anyone out to steal the power from another is going to get slapped right back with what he/she puts out without me having to take a second look at any of them. And people can't steal from me or affect me in any manner unless I'm first handing myself over on a platter saying, "Poor, pitiful me--here I am--Eat ME!" With me, it's all about how to empower myself in my life and thus being able to empower another in theirs.
FaceBook posts for special causes are also irritating in that most of them end in the guilt trip, "Only 99% of people reading this will dare to re-post this as their status..." Because of this line, I WON'T re-post it, and sometimes there's something in the missive that I actually like.
Anyone else remember the old chain letter? FaceBook has it's own version and it uses superstition and fear to get people to re-post nonsense in order to get blessings. Frankly, my beloved friends, I always wish for you the blessing of living your most wildly abundant lives--no strings, no conditions attached.
In short, I just wanted you all to know--it's YOU that I want hear. You ARE the blessings in my life. I AM thankful for FaceBook providing me with the opportunity to participate in sharing ourselves with each other. I hope you'll share yourself with me--I LOVE your stories and personal insights and comedies.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Bring That Which Is Hidden Into The Light: Overcoming the Victimhood Addiction
"Penny--Bring that which is hidden into the Light."
At the time I allowed my most hidden, sordid-seeming childhood secret to come fully into my conscious awareness, I knew it was for the healing of myself, but I wanted to move through it quickly in order to put it behind me, and never have to address the subject ever again. But, no-ooo, that warm and tingling, gently hugging, knowingness conversation that I was having with the Eternal One within me was just getting me started....evidently......
I was in my thirties (I'm now 48) when I became friends with a woman who shared with me that she had been a victim of child molestation. She'd been institutionalized for anorexia and bulimia as a teenager and young adult. Though she professed to be Christian, she did phone sex in order to earn her living. When I first knew of her, she was highly obese and walking around in a Prozac haze. After experiencing her as the animated and fun-loving friend I came to interact with later on, you'll understand why I'm so adamantly against the use of drugs for emotional or mental therapy. She mirrored back to me beautifully what I could expect my own life to be like if I didn't take personal responsibility for my own well-being and happiness. Bless her heart for playing that part for me.
After she shared her little personal bomb with me it irritatingly started my own experience to rise to the surface of my thoughts, though I didn't reciprocate in the sharing of stories. I had planned to take that particular nugget of shame to my grave. I was out shoveling snow from around our car in the parking lot when the whole she-bang came bawling out of me late one night.
Several years earlier, the memories had been forced to the surface when the person who'd played the part of sexual molester (I really hate labels, so I'm using this for clarity purposes only) for me, sought me out in order to apologize for their part in our past--to take full responsibility. I held no grudge against the person, even prior to the apology. Part of me was angry at the time, because I had convinced myself it was all just a dream and never really happened--when suddenly I was forced momentarily to acknowledge that it had. I unhesitatingly told the person I'd just believed it was a dream, that they were forgiven, not to worry about having hurt me. Then I quickly crammed that whole story so far back in my psyche that I almost, once again, convinced myself it hadn't happened.
This person had gone out on a very precarious limb by coming forth to apologize--they literally put their life in my hands. As the "victim" of the scenario, I had the power--the mass consciousness of humanity, who pities the "poor" victims, gave it to me--and I was aware that how I handled this story was probably the biggest responsibility of my life.
Now back to shoveling snow. As I mulled over what my friend had shared about her experience--and she played the victim role to the hilt--I had insight into the person who "victimized" me. With every scoop of snow I threw, I literally FELT my "molester's" remorse, the longing to have the chance to change our history (a seeming impossibility) in order to make a different choice to not have done what was done. The prison and hell that that person was in, of their own making, was far worse than any punishment any human, god, or institution of torture could design for a "criminal." I sobbed with their pain and sense of powerlessness and unworthiness. And I sobbed with my own of the exact same stuff.......
I knew I had to find that person, and let them know, without a doubt, that I forgave them our trespassing. During our conversation, it seemed important that I encouraged the person to understand that I believed there was a good purpose behind our experience together--I knew this deep down. There is a time and a season for everything under the sun--Ecclesiastes. I also knew that in order to perceive--or to experience life as we know it--we needed both contrasts of darkness and light (duality)--they were both the gift of The Eternal One, that comforting spark of Home that I carried within me, no matter where I was or what the circumstances.
I neither condone nor condemn sexual abusers. I'm sharing all of this because it's time to put some real light on the subject of this sexual energy virus that's running rampant through our mass consciousness. Filling jail cells, posting sex offender notices, pointing fingers, keeping secrets--none of these things have stopped the abuses, have you noticed? I am unwilling to settle for anything less than pure resolution of this matter.
In order to keep my postings short, I'm taking a break here. This is just the tip of the iceberg. I've had many experiences and insights in the days, months and years since the memories surfaced. I've done a great deal of walking as my form of meditation, and while on one such walk, I was told by the knowingness within that I had to share my secret with my husband--thus, the subject of my next post.
Part 2:
"God/Father--he (meaning my husband) is going to ask 'Who?' ....and I don't want to bring harm to anyone. I don't want to blame anyone. Do I have to reveal the identity?"
My answer to the question was "No. You never have to reveal the identity. That's not what this is about. This is about YOUR SECRET, Penny, and the hold it has over you. A secret brought out in the open loses its power to control you. Once again, bring that which is hidden out into the Light."
And so I told my husband. He asked, "Who?"--and I told him I was never going to share that part with anyone. It was really rather undramatic--he didn't reject me for my past, which was my second worst outcome fear. My world didn't come crashing down around me, and I felt a great deal lighter in burdens shouldered.
The next day I woke up with what turned out to be some compressed and bulged discs in my neck and shoulders. The chiropractor asked me if I'd suffered some sort of emotional trauma, and I answered with what I thought at the time was a truthful "No." It didn't feel like a trauma the previous day. It felt more like a huge relief, but in hindsight, I had made a huge consciousness shift, and a spine that had been twisted and tight with years of tension was obviously going to spring a bit out of alignment once it was loosened. I was learning about returning to balance on all levels--physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually.
The voice within wouldn't let me off the hook with just telling one person. My story got shared with at least a couple dozen more people. I couldn't share it with my parents--I was too afraid it would hurt them from their possible viewpoint of not having protected me enough or some such nonsense. I share this because--moms and dads--your kids don't tell you everything, do they. Especially if they're feeling really ashamed about something.
One of those with whom I did share was my actual brother, who blessed me by being willing to be that one person outside of me who created a SAFE SPACE with me, where I could talk candidly about the experience and how I truly felt and perceived it--all without condemnation or judgment of me or the other person. He honored my intentions and my choice of the process of healing all the way through. I wrap him in hugs of profound thanks.
I also had help in the form of the lyrics and melody of the song I'm posting in these pages. This, too, came to me as I walked--to the rhythm of my steps. The child in me needs my listeners to understand that I was trying to find the words to express myself clearly, and through music and art, the language of Heaven, I found my voice. I never wanted to play the victim card in this particular instance, though as a human, I've played victim more times than I can count in many other scenarios.
I give Oprah a great deal of credit for bringing the subject of molestation out into the open, but she could only go so far with it according to the context of the time (the nineties). While the subject matter was brought out into the open, unfortunately, it was too easy to point a dramatic, audience-pleasing, sensational finger of blame at someone else and not really dig into the guts of the matter to address the core issue of why it was happening.
This energy feeding/stealing, manifesting here in its most obvious form of physical sexual abuse, is a result of the sexual energy virus in consciousness--the imbalance of the masculine/feminine aspect inside every single one of us--no matter our gender.
If one mentions the word "sex" everyone automatically leaps to the physical act--but the virus I'm talking about here permeates every relationship.
If you find yourself seeking outside of yourself for a person, a god, or some other being to complete you, to LOVE you--or if you're trying to control or maintain a position of power--that is the sexual energy virus.
You already are complete and whole in yourself--just like the wandering bridegroom discovered in The Song of Solomon.
If you're perceiving yourself as a victim in any way--you are dealing with the sexual energy virus.
Even the perpetrators--the abusers--perceive themselves as a victim.
Both sides of the story--victim and abuser--are seeking power and control. When there are no more victims, there is no more abuse.
Oprah didn't have this information at the time--so here I am.
One little nine-year-old guest of Oprah's was praised for legally accusing her abuser while the "experts" in the field glossed over the fact that not all sexual interactions--even molestations--physically hurt. This moment on the show angered me, because no one made a safe space for a child to be completely truthful--a necessity to true healing--about her experience.
Any adult who's had sex with a considerate, if not also loving, partner knows how sensual and pleasurable the act can be. And sometimes a child's curiosity about that which isn't talked about openly can find himself succumbing to the temptation to experiment. And if that child has a pleasant experience, he/she might allow it to happen more than once, even encourage it--even though she knows she shouldn't. And that, folks, was the crux of the matter for me.
The guilt and shame I carried had nothing to do with the other person--it didn't matter who they were, what we did or didn't do. I did know that all I had to say was No and walk away, but I didn't. I allowed it to happen--and that was why I tried to bury it all away. My guilt and personal shame was running the show. To point a finger of blame at anyone else was to have it point right back at me!
This is why I chose to tell my story--there are other children of all ages just like me out there. And I simply want them to know that they're not alone, and that it can all turn out okay if you learn to FORGIVE, LOVE and TRUST YOURSELF.
Self-Forgiveness is just realizing you were a curious, naive, blind human--we ALL have done harmful things to ourselves, and others, when we didn't remember who we really are. That wasn't the true you. That simply was NOT a CONSCIOUS, FULLY AWARE/AWAKENED person who did those things in the past. And it doesn't do anyone any good to carry that shame into your present--doing that actually perpetuates the sexual energy virus.
You have to ask yourself, "Why would a child who was molested grow up to do phone sex? Why do some victims of abuse become abusers, and others, not? And if they aren't stealing energy from others through physical sexual abuses, is it showing up in other areas of their relationships and interactions with themselves and others? Why did so many priests who tried to suppress and control their sexuality succumb to sexually abusing those in their care? How many physical and mental dis-eases/imbalances can be traced back to some childhood experience that the person silently carries around in the guilt bag draped across his/her shoulders?"
How about helping me create a SAFE SPACE in our society that encourages everyone in the possibility of healing these imbalances in themselves? Gossip and speculation (the virus running rampant) about the ghosts in other people's closets heals nothing.
Victimhood--I was determined to no longer succumb to it in any aspect of my life and relationships. I was tired of the disempowering pity parties that it promoted, and I was tired of how it was being used to energetically feed off others. If you're always perceiving yourself as the victim in any type of relationship or interaction (physical sex doesn't have to even be a part of the picture), then you're not accepting COMPASSIONATE RESPONSIBILITY for that part of your life. You're not letting that wounded child within you speak her/his truth to at least, yourself--and that scenario of victimizer/victim will never change for you--even to the death--until you do.
Little One
At the time I allowed my most hidden, sordid-seeming childhood secret to come fully into my conscious awareness, I knew it was for the healing of myself, but I wanted to move through it quickly in order to put it behind me, and never have to address the subject ever again. But, no-ooo, that warm and tingling, gently hugging, knowingness conversation that I was having with the Eternal One within me was just getting me started....evidently......
I was in my thirties (I'm now 48) when I became friends with a woman who shared with me that she had been a victim of child molestation. She'd been institutionalized for anorexia and bulimia as a teenager and young adult. Though she professed to be Christian, she did phone sex in order to earn her living. When I first knew of her, she was highly obese and walking around in a Prozac haze. After experiencing her as the animated and fun-loving friend I came to interact with later on, you'll understand why I'm so adamantly against the use of drugs for emotional or mental therapy. She mirrored back to me beautifully what I could expect my own life to be like if I didn't take personal responsibility for my own well-being and happiness. Bless her heart for playing that part for me.
After she shared her little personal bomb with me it irritatingly started my own experience to rise to the surface of my thoughts, though I didn't reciprocate in the sharing of stories. I had planned to take that particular nugget of shame to my grave. I was out shoveling snow from around our car in the parking lot when the whole she-bang came bawling out of me late one night.
Several years earlier, the memories had been forced to the surface when the person who'd played the part of sexual molester (I really hate labels, so I'm using this for clarity purposes only) for me, sought me out in order to apologize for their part in our past--to take full responsibility. I held no grudge against the person, even prior to the apology. Part of me was angry at the time, because I had convinced myself it was all just a dream and never really happened--when suddenly I was forced momentarily to acknowledge that it had. I unhesitatingly told the person I'd just believed it was a dream, that they were forgiven, not to worry about having hurt me. Then I quickly crammed that whole story so far back in my psyche that I almost, once again, convinced myself it hadn't happened.
This person had gone out on a very precarious limb by coming forth to apologize--they literally put their life in my hands. As the "victim" of the scenario, I had the power--the mass consciousness of humanity, who pities the "poor" victims, gave it to me--and I was aware that how I handled this story was probably the biggest responsibility of my life.
Now back to shoveling snow. As I mulled over what my friend had shared about her experience--and she played the victim role to the hilt--I had insight into the person who "victimized" me. With every scoop of snow I threw, I literally FELT my "molester's" remorse, the longing to have the chance to change our history (a seeming impossibility) in order to make a different choice to not have done what was done. The prison and hell that that person was in, of their own making, was far worse than any punishment any human, god, or institution of torture could design for a "criminal." I sobbed with their pain and sense of powerlessness and unworthiness. And I sobbed with my own of the exact same stuff.......
I knew I had to find that person, and let them know, without a doubt, that I forgave them our trespassing. During our conversation, it seemed important that I encouraged the person to understand that I believed there was a good purpose behind our experience together--I knew this deep down. There is a time and a season for everything under the sun--Ecclesiastes. I also knew that in order to perceive--or to experience life as we know it--we needed both contrasts of darkness and light (duality)--they were both the gift of The Eternal One, that comforting spark of Home that I carried within me, no matter where I was or what the circumstances.
I neither condone nor condemn sexual abusers. I'm sharing all of this because it's time to put some real light on the subject of this sexual energy virus that's running rampant through our mass consciousness. Filling jail cells, posting sex offender notices, pointing fingers, keeping secrets--none of these things have stopped the abuses, have you noticed? I am unwilling to settle for anything less than pure resolution of this matter.
In order to keep my postings short, I'm taking a break here. This is just the tip of the iceberg. I've had many experiences and insights in the days, months and years since the memories surfaced. I've done a great deal of walking as my form of meditation, and while on one such walk, I was told by the knowingness within that I had to share my secret with my husband--thus, the subject of my next post.
Part 2:
"God/Father--he (meaning my husband) is going to ask 'Who?' ....and I don't want to bring harm to anyone. I don't want to blame anyone. Do I have to reveal the identity?"
My answer to the question was "No. You never have to reveal the identity. That's not what this is about. This is about YOUR SECRET, Penny, and the hold it has over you. A secret brought out in the open loses its power to control you. Once again, bring that which is hidden out into the Light."
And so I told my husband. He asked, "Who?"--and I told him I was never going to share that part with anyone. It was really rather undramatic--he didn't reject me for my past, which was my second worst outcome fear. My world didn't come crashing down around me, and I felt a great deal lighter in burdens shouldered.
The next day I woke up with what turned out to be some compressed and bulged discs in my neck and shoulders. The chiropractor asked me if I'd suffered some sort of emotional trauma, and I answered with what I thought at the time was a truthful "No." It didn't feel like a trauma the previous day. It felt more like a huge relief, but in hindsight, I had made a huge consciousness shift, and a spine that had been twisted and tight with years of tension was obviously going to spring a bit out of alignment once it was loosened. I was learning about returning to balance on all levels--physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually.
The voice within wouldn't let me off the hook with just telling one person. My story got shared with at least a couple dozen more people. I couldn't share it with my parents--I was too afraid it would hurt them from their possible viewpoint of not having protected me enough or some such nonsense. I share this because--moms and dads--your kids don't tell you everything, do they. Especially if they're feeling really ashamed about something.
One of those with whom I did share was my actual brother, who blessed me by being willing to be that one person outside of me who created a SAFE SPACE with me, where I could talk candidly about the experience and how I truly felt and perceived it--all without condemnation or judgment of me or the other person. He honored my intentions and my choice of the process of healing all the way through. I wrap him in hugs of profound thanks.
I also had help in the form of the lyrics and melody of the song I'm posting in these pages. This, too, came to me as I walked--to the rhythm of my steps. The child in me needs my listeners to understand that I was trying to find the words to express myself clearly, and through music and art, the language of Heaven, I found my voice. I never wanted to play the victim card in this particular instance, though as a human, I've played victim more times than I can count in many other scenarios.
I give Oprah a great deal of credit for bringing the subject of molestation out into the open, but she could only go so far with it according to the context of the time (the nineties). While the subject matter was brought out into the open, unfortunately, it was too easy to point a dramatic, audience-pleasing, sensational finger of blame at someone else and not really dig into the guts of the matter to address the core issue of why it was happening.
This energy feeding/stealing, manifesting here in its most obvious form of physical sexual abuse, is a result of the sexual energy virus in consciousness--the imbalance of the masculine/feminine aspect inside every single one of us--no matter our gender.
If one mentions the word "sex" everyone automatically leaps to the physical act--but the virus I'm talking about here permeates every relationship.
If you find yourself seeking outside of yourself for a person, a god, or some other being to complete you, to LOVE you--or if you're trying to control or maintain a position of power--that is the sexual energy virus.
You already are complete and whole in yourself--just like the wandering bridegroom discovered in The Song of Solomon.
If you're perceiving yourself as a victim in any way--you are dealing with the sexual energy virus.
Even the perpetrators--the abusers--perceive themselves as a victim.
Both sides of the story--victim and abuser--are seeking power and control. When there are no more victims, there is no more abuse.
Oprah didn't have this information at the time--so here I am.
One little nine-year-old guest of Oprah's was praised for legally accusing her abuser while the "experts" in the field glossed over the fact that not all sexual interactions--even molestations--physically hurt. This moment on the show angered me, because no one made a safe space for a child to be completely truthful--a necessity to true healing--about her experience.
Any adult who's had sex with a considerate, if not also loving, partner knows how sensual and pleasurable the act can be. And sometimes a child's curiosity about that which isn't talked about openly can find himself succumbing to the temptation to experiment. And if that child has a pleasant experience, he/she might allow it to happen more than once, even encourage it--even though she knows she shouldn't. And that, folks, was the crux of the matter for me.
The guilt and shame I carried had nothing to do with the other person--it didn't matter who they were, what we did or didn't do. I did know that all I had to say was No and walk away, but I didn't. I allowed it to happen--and that was why I tried to bury it all away. My guilt and personal shame was running the show. To point a finger of blame at anyone else was to have it point right back at me!
This is why I chose to tell my story--there are other children of all ages just like me out there. And I simply want them to know that they're not alone, and that it can all turn out okay if you learn to FORGIVE, LOVE and TRUST YOURSELF.
Self-Forgiveness is just realizing you were a curious, naive, blind human--we ALL have done harmful things to ourselves, and others, when we didn't remember who we really are. That wasn't the true you. That simply was NOT a CONSCIOUS, FULLY AWARE/AWAKENED person who did those things in the past. And it doesn't do anyone any good to carry that shame into your present--doing that actually perpetuates the sexual energy virus.
You have to ask yourself, "Why would a child who was molested grow up to do phone sex? Why do some victims of abuse become abusers, and others, not? And if they aren't stealing energy from others through physical sexual abuses, is it showing up in other areas of their relationships and interactions with themselves and others? Why did so many priests who tried to suppress and control their sexuality succumb to sexually abusing those in their care? How many physical and mental dis-eases/imbalances can be traced back to some childhood experience that the person silently carries around in the guilt bag draped across his/her shoulders?"
How about helping me create a SAFE SPACE in our society that encourages everyone in the possibility of healing these imbalances in themselves? Gossip and speculation (the virus running rampant) about the ghosts in other people's closets heals nothing.
Victimhood--I was determined to no longer succumb to it in any aspect of my life and relationships. I was tired of the disempowering pity parties that it promoted, and I was tired of how it was being used to energetically feed off others. If you're always perceiving yourself as the victim in any type of relationship or interaction (physical sex doesn't have to even be a part of the picture), then you're not accepting COMPASSIONATE RESPONSIBILITY for that part of your life. You're not letting that wounded child within you speak her/his truth to at least, yourself--and that scenario of victimizer/victim will never change for you--even to the death--until you do.
Little One
Words and Music by Penny Lewton Binek
Little One--come out, be free
Little One--come and play with me!
It's all right--let your secrets unfold,
Cry the tears of pain you've tried to hold.
Come to Me, I'll hold you tight,
And the darkness I'll not let bite.
Shout your anger! Vent your fears--
FEEL your sadness and your sorrows,
Then watch them disappear...
Little One--come out, be free
Little One--come and play with me!
It's all right--let your secrets unfold,
Cry the tears of pain you've tried to hold.
Come to Me, I'll hold you tight,
And the darkness I'll not let bite.
Shout your anger! Vent your fears--
FEEL your sadness and your sorrows,
Then watch them disappear...
Little One, come fly with me!
I've loosed your shackles--guilt, shame and misery.
Little One, come let your spirit soar
Through wondrous places you've never dreamed before...
(Instrumental)
Little One, come sing with me--
We have a song, a glorious melody.
Little One, come lift your heart in song
Giving thanks for all parts played,
Whether right or seeming wrong.
Hear the thunder, hear the ROAR--
A celebration like we've never felt before!!
Little One, at last you're free!
Little One, come and dance with me.
It's all right--you've let your story be told.
And in the Light of Day, behold!
You're a wonder!
Life's a gift!--
A celebration of ALL THAT IS.
Though you stumble, though you fall--
When it all is said and done,
All there is--
IS LOVE!
All there is IS LOVE, Little One.
All there is IS LOVE, Little One.
All there is Is Love, Little One--
How you've grown into my sun/son!
Part 3:
"Judge NOT, lest you BE judged."
When I first read Yeshua's (I knew him first by the name Jesus) above statement in The New Testament, I pictured him pointing this stern finger at me chewing me out for judging people, and I cringed inwardly with guilt and shame.
But in the latter years, after many experiences, I've had a different insight on this--and my two previous posts highlight it for me. It's helped me a great deal in healing myself and finding my inner peace, so maybe it will help someone else. Take it or leave it, okay? It really doesn't matter to me.
It is my own understanding that, when Yeshua made that statement, he was teaching us how the spiritual/physical physics of reality manifestation works. I don't believe he intended to trigger my guilty feelings. He was telling us that when we have an experience and then make a judgment about that experience as BEING "right" or "wrong," we actually emotionally trigger/CAUSE that experience "TO BE" manifested in our reality--to last LONGER in our reality.
If we allow ourselves to simply have an experience without judging it--it simply comes forth and then disappears or stays accordingly, AS WE CHOOSE, moment by moment.
For instance, I'm at a place now where that old childhood story of mine really doesn't affect me anymore. From where I stand now, it doesn't even feel as big as I made it out to be--we were both just curious. But back in the early days of the resurfacing of the memories of it, I shed A LOT of tears, walked about with lumps in my throat, and coughed a great deal as I gradually worked up the courage and gave myself permission to express on the subject. But with the last two posts--I cried not a single tear, felt not a lump or even a single bit of guilt or shame about my part or my partner's part. And that FEELS REALLY GREAT!
Yeshua's statement surfaced in my thoughts again today and I realized that both of us made a judgment about a choice we each made to have an experience together--an experience we both perceived as "the wrong thing to do" but we did it anyway. Because of that judgment, we felt guilty and made it a secret--so we perpetuated that experience over and over again throughout our lives in many different forms in our relationships of all types.
When my partner took the bull by the horns, and approached me with an apology, they actually opened the door of letting that experience then begin to disappear--actually making the pain start to depart. But there were two of us involved in its creation, and in order to truly put it to rest, I also had to take responsibility for my part in perpetuating the manifestation, and had to open a door, too--which was addressing my own guilty feelings about my perceived "wrong way to be" judgment. I had to simply forgive myself and realize THAT WASN'T ME--I wasn't aware of my I AM THAT I AM. I wasn't awake to my TRUE self.
Beloved friends, if you truly want to help a child molestation victim, let go of pitying and feeling sorry for them--an approach that keeps the awful story playing out in one's reality. Instead, empower them to stand as the self-master of their own life--learn and teach the concept of SELF-FORGIVENESS.
My beloved Tobias's (another messenger in my life) parting message was, "Remember--you've done nothing wrong, not really, EVER."
Life--it's an amazing potential of experience of all kinds, helping us all grow in wisdom. Thank you ALL with my most deeply-felt, unconditional love and gratitude for playing all parts with me and for me.....
Related posts:
Walk Like a Master
"I need..." Indicates the Sexual Energy Virus is Present
Forgive Yourself: We're All Just Role-Playing Together
My Big Ah-Ha!/Yahoo! Moment
I've loosed your shackles--guilt, shame and misery.
Little One, come let your spirit soar
Through wondrous places you've never dreamed before...
(Instrumental)
Little One, come sing with me--
We have a song, a glorious melody.
Little One, come lift your heart in song
Giving thanks for all parts played,
Whether right or seeming wrong.
Hear the thunder, hear the ROAR--
A celebration like we've never felt before!!
Little One, at last you're free!
Little One, come and dance with me.
It's all right--you've let your story be told.
And in the Light of Day, behold!
You're a wonder!
Life's a gift!--
A celebration of ALL THAT IS.
Though you stumble, though you fall--
When it all is said and done,
All there is--
IS LOVE!
All there is IS LOVE, Little One.
All there is IS LOVE, Little One.
All there is Is Love, Little One--
How you've grown into my sun/son!
Part 3:
"Judge NOT, lest you BE judged."
When I first read Yeshua's (I knew him first by the name Jesus) above statement in The New Testament, I pictured him pointing this stern finger at me chewing me out for judging people, and I cringed inwardly with guilt and shame.
But in the latter years, after many experiences, I've had a different insight on this--and my two previous posts highlight it for me. It's helped me a great deal in healing myself and finding my inner peace, so maybe it will help someone else. Take it or leave it, okay? It really doesn't matter to me.
It is my own understanding that, when Yeshua made that statement, he was teaching us how the spiritual/physical physics of reality manifestation works. I don't believe he intended to trigger my guilty feelings. He was telling us that when we have an experience and then make a judgment about that experience as BEING "right" or "wrong," we actually emotionally trigger/CAUSE that experience "TO BE" manifested in our reality--to last LONGER in our reality.
If we allow ourselves to simply have an experience without judging it--it simply comes forth and then disappears or stays accordingly, AS WE CHOOSE, moment by moment.
For instance, I'm at a place now where that old childhood story of mine really doesn't affect me anymore. From where I stand now, it doesn't even feel as big as I made it out to be--we were both just curious. But back in the early days of the resurfacing of the memories of it, I shed A LOT of tears, walked about with lumps in my throat, and coughed a great deal as I gradually worked up the courage and gave myself permission to express on the subject. But with the last two posts--I cried not a single tear, felt not a lump or even a single bit of guilt or shame about my part or my partner's part. And that FEELS REALLY GREAT!
Yeshua's statement surfaced in my thoughts again today and I realized that both of us made a judgment about a choice we each made to have an experience together--an experience we both perceived as "the wrong thing to do" but we did it anyway. Because of that judgment, we felt guilty and made it a secret--so we perpetuated that experience over and over again throughout our lives in many different forms in our relationships of all types.
When my partner took the bull by the horns, and approached me with an apology, they actually opened the door of letting that experience then begin to disappear--actually making the pain start to depart. But there were two of us involved in its creation, and in order to truly put it to rest, I also had to take responsibility for my part in perpetuating the manifestation, and had to open a door, too--which was addressing my own guilty feelings about my perceived "wrong way to be" judgment. I had to simply forgive myself and realize THAT WASN'T ME--I wasn't aware of my I AM THAT I AM. I wasn't awake to my TRUE self.
Beloved friends, if you truly want to help a child molestation victim, let go of pitying and feeling sorry for them--an approach that keeps the awful story playing out in one's reality. Instead, empower them to stand as the self-master of their own life--learn and teach the concept of SELF-FORGIVENESS.
My beloved Tobias's (another messenger in my life) parting message was, "Remember--you've done nothing wrong, not really, EVER."
Life--it's an amazing potential of experience of all kinds, helping us all grow in wisdom. Thank you ALL with my most deeply-felt, unconditional love and gratitude for playing all parts with me and for me.....
Related posts:
Walk Like a Master
"I need..." Indicates the Sexual Energy Virus is Present
Forgive Yourself: We're All Just Role-Playing Together
My Big Ah-Ha!/Yahoo! Moment
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)