I love how both Keith and Paul have played roles for me this week, taking me deeply into the understanding of how I felt as a child when my mother, and others, were frustrated and impatient with me. I was not given an opportunity to feel and express the painful emotions that flowed through me, and I was invalidated for even having the emotions.

But as I rest on my pillow, late on Friday evening, March 23, 2012, all the peaceful knowing in the world takes a back seat to ego as the stories begin to flow. These are persistent stories about the crazy projected anger and resentment I feel toward Keith and others who would treat me the way I have been treated – invalidating me, being impatient and frustrated with me, accusing me of doing things I did not do.

Crazy Making

“How dare Keith imply I was lost in my confusion in the middle of ceremony today!” inner ego voices begin to complain. “And how dare he talk to me with such frustrated and impatient emphasis in his voice! I don’t care if I struggle a thousand times on his porch. Each time I do so, I deserve his kind and loving patience.”

“But he was role-playing for me,” my loving heart answers. “He was skillfully showing me how I felt as a child when I desperately sought validation, but instead was met by frustration and impatience. It does not matter whether Keith knew he was role-playing or not, what matters is that what he did and said is exactly what I needed for the profound growth and insights that came about as a result.”

“But I deserve better,” the ego voices demand. “I deserve to be treated with love and respect! I deserve to be gently assisted when I ask for help. Instead, I felt as if Keith was crazy making with me.”

As I take a step back, I recognize clearly that my parents unknowingly did crazy making on me as well. They had a cultural mandate to teach me how to fit into a tight little box – a box that they believed was for my own good.

Remaining The Observer

As 10:00 p.m. comes and goes, my inner agitation only increases. I am unable to sleep and the stories continue to intensify. I am having a difficult time separating triggers from reality – separating how I felt while talking to Keith this afternoon from how I felt as a vulnerable and lost child.

“This is actually my God/separation drama projected onto Keith,” I suddenly realize. “I am projecting deep subconscious anger at Higher Energies that in my limited perception seemed to abandon and ignore me during my darkest nights.”

Recognizing that the emotions and stories are not in alignment with present-day reality, I attempt to remain the observer, to not give them power, and to simply allow the feelings to flow through me. Finally, shortly after midnight, I manage to fall asleep for about an hour – and again, I manage to snag a small amount of sleep between 2:00 and 4:00 a.m. – but for the remainder of the night and morning, I simply stare at the ceiling.

Yet, to my amazement, I do not feel angry or upset. I somehow manage to accept what is, to find self-acceptance for my stuck state. In the midst of my sleepless hours, I feel a great deal of trapped energy movements around my body – especially involving energetic twitching on my back.

Holding Back The Sobs

Finding myself unable to focus or write, I make a decision to walk out to Keith’s porch at 10:00 a.m. on Saturday morning. He is teaching three classes today as part of a local San Marcos Festival of Consciousness. I am exhausted and just hope to hang out in a high-energy environment – hoping to possibly learn something in a discussion about “Sound Healing”, while doing so as an inconspicuous fly on the wall.

To my dismay, after about thirty minutes of discussion, Keith asks each person in our small class to practice making various sounds.

“Brenda, it is your turn,” Keith soon turns to me.

“Can I please pass?” I respond without even looking up, attempting to suppress bubbling emotions.

“Brenda,” Keith asks a few minutes later, “would you like to sit in the middle and be our guinea pig?”

“Sure,” I respond glumly, “I can’t do anything else. I am exhausted from having only gotten a few hours of sleep last night, and right now I am swimming in deep childhood emotions.”

For several minutes, this small group of six makes continuous sounds – sounds ranging from toning, ohming, humming, and even singing. When they stop, I am crying, desperately attempting to maintain my composure. I appreciate the help being offered, but feel utterly stupid for being the center of attention in this context.

“I’m not supposed to be here doing my inner work,” I protest to Keith. “I am feeling guilty for doing this in the middle of your class. I didn’t come here for a private session. I just wanted to meditate quietly in Higher Energies. I am regressed deeply into childhood emotions, exhausted, highly emotional, and desperately trying to hold back the sobs.”

Sound Surrender

“There is no reason to hold anything back,” a woman immediately responds. “You are blessing me by showing how the sound therapy works.”

With the group’s reassurance, I surrender while they do another round of sounds. As they do so, I allow myself to cry even more. When they finish, I feel somewhat lighter … yet I am experiencing a swarm of deeply heavy and confused energy that swirls in the top of my head.

As the group again engages in another long round of vocalizing a variety of sounds, I begin to feel slight energy tingles in my head and shoulders – tingles that continue to integrate after the sounds end. To my surprise, the emotions are gradually evaporating to nothingness, and I soon move back to my seat – zoning out for the remainder of this two-hour workshop.

At noon, as Keith begins leading a “Connecting to Higher Energies” workshop, I begin early and simply meditate for the next two hours. The heavy swarming confusion energy remains quite intense.

Confusing Chaotic Energy

I spend the entire two hours engaging in one energy meditation after another, attempting to leave rational-mind behind while focusing on various methods of balancing this confusion energy. First, I play with the energy channels surrounding my pineal gland. Next, I engage in a “Mer-Ka-Ba” meditation. Even so, the energy in my head remains intense.

“Just show me what you would do with this energy,” I finally surrender to the light.

Eventually, as I quit attempting to do anything, the energy seems to pool at the front of my forehead, in the region of the third-eye chakra. Then the energy moves lower, plugging up the bridge of my nose. Finally, with patient intention, without pushing or judging, the energy seems to relax and flow down my nose … then it comes back … then it flows again … then it comes back.

As I play and observe, I begin to capture glimpses of understanding regarding this strong and swarming confusion energy. The fact that it moves around from place to place provides significant evidence that the issue is energetic and not physical. Over the last year, I have also clearly noted that the confusion energy surfaces primarily when something takes me deep into the frustration and impatience of my mother or another authority figure – such as when Keith role-played with me last evening.

When triggered, this energy is so overwhelming that it literally confuses my ability to focus and to think about or remember anything from short-term interactions. Keith has often reassured me that, as a child, such energy was my only way to protect myself from cultural programming. What shocks me is that, even now, this energy continues to get triggered in such intense ways.

A “Light” Day

As Keith prepares to lead his third workshop for the day, I excuse myself at 2:00 p.m., utterly exhausted and unable to focus. After a quick lunch, I sleep for over four hours. When I awaken, I watch a quick movie and then return to bed. Exhaustion continues to consume me.

Sunday morning, after a much-needed restful sleep, I spend several hours watching an assortment of Abraham videos. As I ponder the importance of maintaining my connection to Higher Energies, I also ponder how I used to make a weekly trek into the mountains, hiking and meditating solo, reconnecting with my heart, reconnecting with the energies of nature. I realize that over the last few months I have been so focused on deep inner work that I have severely neglected that link to the light.

As Keith has so frequently pointed out to me, I have continued to do a great deal of my inner work by “slogging through the trenches”, still not being fully able to bring in the light to help me.

Prior to the afternoon ceremony today, I make a deep concerted effort to meditate into a powerful state of heart energy. I am determined to try something different.

As the glow meditation begins, I focus on many blissful memories – memories of times when I have felt deeply connected to light and love. Then, I spend the next four hours basking in this energy, often sharing it with others as I assist in their deep inner journeys.

It proves to be a deeply satisfying afternoon.

Exploring Judgment

Around 5:00 p.m., as I sit relaxed and focusing on my connection to the light, Keith reaches over, gently touches my leg, looks into my eyes, and congratulates me on my beautiful energy today.

I giggle inside, because this is literally the first words he has said to me since beginning the ceremony. I have been totally in my element, trusting myself, not needing or asking for any guidance or reassurance.

“I’m working on bringing more love to my inner children and inner adolescents,” I fill Keith in on my process. “I’m beginning to feel some fear and blockage in there, but I am just holding space and loving it all.”

“How about if you work on loving the judgment,” Keith suggests.

“This is kind of what I am doing,” I respond, slightly puzzled by Keith’s words.

But as I meditate deeper into this concept, I realize that focusing only on the judgment removes a need to focus on the origin of that judgment – whether it be parents, church, self, or from others – and instead, I am simply loving the judgment that seems to be deeply entrenched in hidden vaults.

Loving The Make-Wrongs

As I meditate ever deeper, I begin to clearly recognize that my painful solar plexus, being my power center, is what got me into most of my trouble as a child who often fought back in rebellion at rules that felt stifling, being mouthy and rebellious when feeling unjustly attacked by those who might judge me. Finally, in hopelessness and futility, I surrendered my power, severing my solar plexus energies, shutting down my will until I felt like a broken and obedient horse.

I soon begin to focus on loving the power struggles of my childhood. As I do so, deep emotions and trickling tears start to surface. Gradually, I feel some of the heaviness and blockages in my abdomen begin to vibrate and loosen – especially throughout my lower back region. Something inside is definitely shifting.

“Love the ‘make-wrongs’,” Keith soon guides me after I again fill him in on my journey.

I am delighted how I am able to go even deeper with such a subtle shift in meaning. Removing “judgment” from the equation also removes the feeling of “blame”, helping me to realize that I was simply an alien child who could not and did not necessarily want to understand the religious culture of the era. Yet I clearly recognize that I chose my parents and birth circumstances – that all of this was part of my plan – that it was something in which I needed to become profoundly lost.

“What I went through hurt deeply,” I ponder with peace, “but I can indeed love that hurt.”

Giggling Feedback

I sit in this meditative space until the ceremony finally fades. As I begin to walk away from a now-empty porch, I can only giggle when Keith gets silly. After putting his fingertips to his mouth, Keith gestures with a “mmmwwaaaaa” as if he were at an Italian restaurant congratulating the cook on a marvelous meal. Keith then shares how proud he was for my energy today, for my being “in the love”, for not needing feedback, and for trusting myself the whole time.

I too feel quite proud of myself today. I am eager to go home to integrate the beautiful experience and to bask in that much-needed energy of self-love.

Power Equals Alone

In an inexplicable turn of events, Monday morning begins with a deep lack of motivation. I did not sleep well, I feel lazy, and nervous unsettled energies twitch throughout my body, letting me know that something is still shifting inside of my field – something quite outside of rational-mind understanding.

As I attempt to focus on Abraham videos, I suddenly overflow with uncontainable emotion – emotion that results in deep teeth-chattering sobs. There is no valid present-day reason for this emotion, but it is real and profound, and I have long-since learned to simply let such emotions flow through me.

Along with the emotions come feelings of being profoundly alone and isolated … of just wanting to be held and loved … of being deeply alone even when surrounded by many people.

“Am I regressing?” I question myself, suspecting that I am likely just releasing old stuff that is now bubbling to the surface for release.

As I ponder and meditate about these strange emotions, however, I remember a feeling I had yesterday at that powerful Sunday afternoon ceremony. I realize that I was not as deeply connected to empowering divine love as I might have wished … and I recognize a very clear feeling that has surfaced throughout my life.

“When I am strong and in my power,” I ponder as the feeling flows, “that is when I feel most alone. Being strong means being alone because people know that I do not need their help. That is exactly what happened yesterday … I was so in my power that I received almost no personal guidance.”

“This sounds like my God drama,” I ponder.

But in an act of control, I force all emotions aside and instead focus on whitewashing those emotions with a blanket of Higher Energies. In just a few minutes, I will be assisting in an afternoon private-group ceremony on Keith’s magical porch, and I do not want to show up with tears in my eyes.

Mysterious Overbooking

A very awkward situation is unfolding. I am on the edge of anxiety as I wonder how Keith might resolve it. Yesterday, about an hour before the Sunday ceremony, I had been talking to Keith when he scheduled a private session with two women, one of which I will call Julie. The session was primarily for Julie’s friend. Julie was going to be there too, and at Keith’s suggestion, the friend indicated that it would also be OK if I were there to assist. The women made it quite clear however that they did not want any men there (except Keith that is).

In the midst of scheduling, Keith had noted that he had another private session already scheduled at the same time with another woman that I will call Sarah.

“I will try to move Sarah’s session to a later time,” Keith had told Julie. “Why don’t you tentatively plan on 1:00 p.m. and I will let you know via email if that is not going to work out.”

When the two women leave, Keith goes into his house to send a quick email to Sarah, hoping to reschedule her.

“Brenda,” Keith suddenly calls out with surprise, “my internet modem just expired a few minutes ago. I have no way to get online.”

An hour later, just as we are finishing preparations to start the Sunday ceremony, Sarah walks onto the porch. I try to get Keith’s attention to suggest that he should talk to her about changing her session time. Keith looks at me as if I am an alien, acting extremely confused about what I am trying to tell him. Meanwhile, in the middle of the ceremony, Keith begins telling a few people that several women are gathering for a small private group session tomorrow afternoon, suggesting that they might also want to join us.

I just bite my tongue and trust the process. As it turns out, later that evening, when several from the Sunday ceremony shared dinner at a local restaurant, this person invited that person, and that person invited another. What began as two double-booked private sessions had now randomly expanded to an entire group of people being invited – including several men – and neither Julie nor Sarah knew of that fact.

An Awkward Group

As I walk out toward Keith’s home, this complicated overbooking scenario is hot on my mind when I bump into Julie who is also walking in the same direction. In the course of our walk, Julie mentions that the reason she wanted a tiny private ceremony is that there was way too much “fixing energy” on the porch, and that she did not want people there who would try to fix her.

While conversing with Julie, I opt to say nothing regarding the double booking because I have no idea what Keith may or may not have done to resolve the issue. I trust that Keith will resolve everything when we arrive. When we sit on the porch, I can tell that Julie is noticeably confused by the fact that seven or eight other people are also gathered. When Keith steps out onto the porch, he says nothing to Julie or Sarah regarding what is happening, and instead begins to conduct a group ceremony.

I am feeling intense frustration. I assume that Sarah must know what is going on, but I can clearly see that Julie is confused. I feel her awkwardness – and her awkwardness becomes my own. As much as I have learned to “trust the process”, this is one time where I feel a great deal of unexpressed judgment and anger toward Keith.

Bait-And-Switch Regression

Julie does not even drink chocolate, and seems quite defensive when anyone else engages her in conversation.

Meanwhile, I silently sink back into my God drama, further fuming in unexpressed projections onto Keith. I feel angry about what I now perceive as his “crazy making” onto me yesterday when I had tried to point out the developing awkward situation. He had shut me down and had literally refused to listen to my concerns.

I am fully aware of my projections and fully aware that such crazy making happened to me frequently as a child – but I am so lost in the emotions that I am unable to disengage from the power of those projections.

I am also quite angry that two men are present. Julie had made it quite clear that men were not to be there. In my mind, the situation could not be more disastrous.

Yet in the midst of my stewing and fuming, part of me knows that this whole situation must be a “create-my-own-reality” setup … that I am here to be an observer as these emotions surface. Yet a huge part of me wants to stand up right now and simply walk away from the situation, wanting nothing to do with it.

I know this situation is not my fault … but just the fact that I am here and had initially tried to help resolve it makes me feel as if I am internalizing all of the guilt. I am unable to connect with Higher Energies from above or from Mother Earth.

I am regressed to childhood … a little child who is angry about God/church saying one thing while the energy/reality that I feel is another. I am a tiny child angry with God and with my dear mother … angry about the bait-and-switch crazy making that took place with both.

This tiny child is very angry.

Fixing Fest

“The energy is with you,” Keith soon turns to speak to Julie, who appears quite surprised.

Seconds later, in the midst of the conversation, a young woman on the porch bursts into deep tears. Three women rush over to hold and comfort her. I perceive the whole situation as profoundly fixing … as saying “Oh, you poor thing, you are hurting. Let us hold and comfort you so you do not need to cry.” I watch with deep interest as the situation unfolds.

I find it quite fascinating as Keith point-blank tells the emotional young woman that she is an empath, and that as a child, people tried to fix her, not allowing her to feel her emotions, etc… Keith then spends several minutes teaching the whole porch about fixing energy, about what it is and why it is so disempowering. The three women listen with deep interest, but do not seem to draw any parallel understanding that Keith’s words are subtly directed at them.

Meanwhile, I squirm as I observe, knowing that Keith must have a reason for not intervening more directly. Finally, Keith turns back to work with Julie.

Dancing Expression

For ten minutes, Julie dances around the issue and struggles to find a way to express her frustrations about fixing energy, while at the same time desperately attempting to do so in a soft generic manner that does not directly offend anyone. Finally, after others on the porch repeatedly challenge and badger her to be more direct and honest, Julie admits that she has a very strong aversion to the fixing that just took place in front of her.

“I’m right behind you,” I quickly and publicly express my support and understanding for Julie’s bold words. “I have had my own lifelong journey with fixing energy, and I totally understand what you are sharing.”

I can see that the others are annoyed by my support of Julie. Without backing down from my own position, I take a back seat and observe what happens next. The awkwardness increases dramatically when the three women begin to debate and reason with Julie, practically psychoanalyzing her as they insist that no fixing was taking place, that instead Julie is angry, resistant, and projecting onto them – that the issue is all Julie’s and has nothing to do with them.

“Please stop,” Julie requests, “I am not here to work with you. I want to work directly with Keith.”

I totally relate to Julie’s request. There have been so many times on the porch that people have interrupted Keith to try to give me advice. Every time I have felt annoyed, and rarely does their advice or counsel even come close to resonating.

Story Of My Life

What I am witnessing resonates deeply with my own process. I recognize myself in Julie and in what she is doing.

In my perception, it appears to me that Julie is doing profound inner work, facing her fears, and boldly expressing her truth … and her reward for doing so is that she is the one that others want to blame for being the troublemaker. Her perceptions are real and valid, yet she is being badgered and psychoanalyzed for expressing them.

For me, this is the story of my life … desperately attempting to be true to myself while constantly having stones tossed in my direction.

I only smile when, as Keith resumes working with Julie, he does the “relationship-rule turn around” with her, pointing out that nothing changes until she does, that she is the one that needs to go inside to heal her sensitivities to the “new age circus” and “fixing energies” out there. Keith may as well have been speaking to me.

Sharpened Knives

Meanwhile, I am sinking deeply into a feeling of intense hatred toward the “energy of fixing” that was a frequent occurrence with my beloved mother when I was tiny. I feel the energy of me doing my own genuine processing as a child, trying to explain and defend myself, while the adult fixers in my life got out their knives and sharpening stones, determinedly preparing to cut out my flaws and dysfunction so that I could be more like them – so that I could be saved in God’s Kingdom.

It is clear today that I feel the “fixing energy” as being a significant portion of my God/separation drama. I realize that the resistance that I feel when trying to send love to that little “child-that-was-me” – that the emotions of heavy thick resistance that always prevent me from doing so – are actually emotions of deep hatred for that rebellious brat (me) that desperately refused to be broken … until I finally gave up and succumbed, that is.

As I attempt to send love to my inner child, my eyes instead fill with tears as I sink deeply into the pain. I am trying to love that anger … trying to love the judgment … trying to love the make-wrongs.

I know that the painful emotions flowing through me must be yet-another childhood regression, and I attempt to not identify with these emotions … yet the experience is so overwhelming and powerful that I find it extremely difficult to not get lost. I am barely hanging on as the observer.

I know that what I am feeling is a projected form of my God drama, but I also know that this childhood pain is quite real, and I need to feel it to the core. I simultaneously try to bring in love to assist, but the more I try, the more I feel confused and lost.

Uninvited Advice

Julie soon looks over at me and asks what I am feeling. I begin to blubber as I share details of my inner journey – details of how I was so profoundly fixed as a child – details of the intense anger that is flowing through me.

A few people immediately jump in to interrupt, attempting to add supportive feedback and suggestions to me, but I ignore them, ask them to please stop, and lovingly point out that their feedback may be well intended, but that it is not serving me.

No Way Out

By now, I clearly recognize that this whole ceremony has been a beautiful setup for my process – but it is also quite obvious that the ceremony is beautifully serving others, including Julie and Sarah.

I am so deeply stuck in my emotion that I see no way out … no hope of returning to love and light. I want to release my anger, but do not feel safe doing so in this group. I am not even sure it would be productive if I tried. Instead, I sit quietly on my pillow, feeling the emotion to the core while attempting to stifle all external expression. I know Keith is aware of what I am going through, but he skillfully ignores me. Intuitions tell me that he is waiting for me to make the first move.

Finally, I look at Keith, make eye contact, and express how stuck I am. I stop short of actually verbalizing a request for help. As I sit in my pain, Keith does not respond. Soon, I lower my head and return to my muffled tears, letting the emotion flow the hard way. Unbeknownst to me, Keith has been motioning to Julie for her to come over to help me.

As Julie finally sits in front of me, I briefly glance into her eyes but quickly return to resistance, lowering my head and returning to my tears.

“Look in her eyes,” Keith guides me.

I raise my head, briefly making eye contact before again returning my gaze to the ground.

Fixing Versus Assisting

Keith repeatedly nudges me to further connect with Julie. Finally, after considerable resistance, I reach out and hug her. Seconds later, I am sobbing while Julie holds me.

When my emotion finally subsides, Julie and I engage in a beautiful conversation. She explains how Keith kept pointing to her to come over and help me … and how she had resisted because she did not want to be guilty of the same fixing energy about which she had just gotten upset.

“What you are doing is not fixing,” I quickly share with Julie. “You are holding space for me and sharing loving support while assisting and empowering me to go deeper in my process.”

As the ceremony quickly dissolves into small social conversations, Julie and I sit and talk for more than an hour.

Life Parallels

“It seems like whenever you begin to go into deep emotion,” Julie shares her observation, “that you get interrupted and left alone.”

“Yeah, I feel like Keith is doing that to me on purpose,” I explain to Julie, also pointing out that this has only been going on for a few weeks.

“I think it is related to my God drama,” I add. “I have been clinging to a need for outside help and have not been trusting myself … and I have this deep belief that when I am independent and in my power, that God will no longer have a need to help me. I really believe that Keith, whether he is aware of it or not, is graphically showing me my God drama in a stage-play format.”

Soon, I am sharing much of my life journey with Julie, exploring how my God drama so deeply parallels real life experience – experience repeatedly confirming to me that the more self-sufficient I am, the more alone I end up – the more abandoned I feel.

Perfect Triggers

Eventually Keith sits down to join our conversation. In our loving and light-hearted discussion, I get bluntly honest with Keith regarding my frustrations about feeling ignored for the last week or two.

“When you need help, ask for it,” Keith responds with a smile.

“Keith,” I respond, “I have rarely needed to ASK for help in the past. You always jump in to work with me exactly when I need it. Now it seems that you ignore me a lot … and when I do genuinely ask for help, you either continue to ignore me, point out how stuck-in-my-head I am, or else you get impatient and frustrated with me as you did when you role-played my mother a few days ago. It seems like when you do talk to me, it is done with extreme vocal emphasis, as if you are frustrated and impatient, trying to trigger me. My heart is pure and I need loving patience and compassion.”

“Brenda,” Keith responds with a smile. “Whether I am doing it on purpose, or whether I am a dense jerk asshole does not matter for you. It is the same from your perspective … you need to see it as your creation. You need to look at that. It is not about me and it is not about what it is about … and nothing changes until you do.”

“And if I AM being a dense jerk asshole,” Keith adds with loving confidence, “then that is my own issue to look at.”

I just want to slap Keith. I know he is right, but the ego in me wants him to admit he is mean and wrong. I want an apology. In actuality, I know that everything he has done, and continues to do, is quite perfect … triggering me in exactly the ways I need to be triggered.

“I think I am triggering a lot of growth in you,” I lovingly share with Keith.

“Everyone does,” He responds with a smile.

A Suggested Vacation

It is shortly before 7:00 p.m. when Julie and I give Keith quick good night hugs. Julie needs to catch a night boat to San Pedro, so I walk with her back to the boat dock.

“Brenda,” Julie lovingly suggests at one point in our delightful conversation, “you need a vacation.”

“How I wish I could,” I respond with a glow in my eyes, “but my heart tells me otherwise. As difficult and often frustrating as this deep inner work is, I am right where I need to be, doing what I need to be doing.”

“But your eyes lit up when we talked about it,” Julie pushes a little harder.

“I have to admit, a vacation would be really nice,” I ponder with a smile. “Right now, I am deeply burned out on inner work, but it really does not feel right.”

A Day Of Rebellion

Tuesday morning, March 27, 2012, I awaken feeling quite rebellious. That vacation idea is sounding extremely attractive right now. Giving up on my journey feels like a very viable option.

I am so exhausted from incessant inner work and from having my painful buttons pushed. It has been four months of being intensely triggered by Paul and others – six nonstop months of digging through emotional pain that I had no idea continued to hide inside. I am frustrated to the max, running on empty, and my brain feels as if it is ready to fry.

For breakfast, I eat an ice cream sandwich. For lunch I dine on popcorn, a slice of cheese, and an apple, and for dinner, I treat my rebellious inner children to a burger and fries.

The rest of the day is filled to the brim with rebellious emotions and six back-to-back movies on my computer.

I feel utterly alone. I have no desire to go outside or to socialize with anyone. I am disconnected and deeply disoriented. I wish I could dig a hole and just crawl inside.

The strange thing about all this is that, even in my rebellion and refusal to do anything at all, that I still felt Higher Energies flowing today – I still felt a continuous glimmer of inner peace. An observer part of me was conscious throughout the day, lovingly giving me permission to rebel and do absolutely nothing, confidently knowing that all is well, that today is actually precisely what I needed.

In retrospect, it is quite clear that another profound layer of God drama emotions was flowing through me – emotions triggered by the profound dysfunctional belief that being strong and empowered – being connected to Higher Energies – is always met with abandonment and aloneness, with being left to fend for myself and never again receive the help I think I need.

A Team Dream

Around 5:00 a.m. on Wednesday morning, I awaken with a start. Memories of a very vivid dream continue to flood my consciousness. I quickly get up, scribble a few notes, and begin to ponder.

In the dream, I was playing in a basketball game on what feels like an all-female team. In a chase for a loose ball, an opposing player tips the basketball out of bounds. I run to retrieve the ball and turn to throw it back into play when an opposing player challenges me, insisting that the ball belongs to the other team. Finally, the referee hands the ball back to me and blows his whistle.

When I look out onto the court, deep confusion suddenly overwhelms me. Rather than the expected sight of two teams of five players each, I see a basketball court crowded by hundreds of people. Most of them women, all of them dressed in random non-uniform clothing, and I do not recognize a single face.

My team has been switched and I am in a state of near panic. I do not know to whom I need to throw the ball. In an effort to get my bearings, I pause and ask everyone on my team to please raise their hands. In response, perhaps ten hands go up in the air scattered throughout the crowd, one being quite near to me. I still do not recognize any of the faces, and know that I will never be able to remember who my teammates are.

“How can I possibly play this game when I do not even know who I am playing with?” I ask in frustration as I suddenly wake up from the dream.

New Game, New Rules

After brief meditative pondering, the deeper meaning of the dream seems intuitively obvious.

I am extremely lost and frustrated right now. I am refusing to play the game anymore because it suddenly feels as if all of the rules have changed behind my back. I do not know any of my new teammates (Higher Beings), and I am terrified to continue playing while in such a state of disconnect and not knowing. My rebellion of yesterday is a natural pause in my process … my basketball was knocked out of bounds. It is now time to step back from the rulebook … to quit playing by the old rules … to realize that I do not even begin to understand the rules to this new game. I need to step back from the trauma and drama; I need time to regroup; and I need time to get to know my new teammates.

Teeth-chattering tears stream down my cheeks as I scribble my insights. I feel so alone, so lost, so like a fish out of water, so wandering into unknown territory. I want to run away … to run back to the familiar … to what I know … back to what was safe in my old world.

But I know that, at least for me, the old world is gone. There is no going back.

… to be continued …

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

At 7:00 a.m., I find myself on Keith’s porch, eagerly helping to clean-up and set-up. A group of us had been on the porch late last night, tediously bagging over 250 pounds of freshly ground chocolate. When I arrive, there remains much work to do to straighten up and organize before the tour group arrives at 8:00 a.m.. I am deeply excited by the opportunity to assist in a ceremony with this group. Twice before, I have participated with similar groups, and they are always amazing.

Love, Confidence, And Peace

This early-morning ceremony is a much-needed breath of fresh air. After months of painful projections, regressions, and digging deep into emotional processing, parts of me have gotten quite lost in the pain of a lonely and disconnected past. As I visit with the group before we begin, a much needed burst of confidence reminds me that I do still have a fun social part of me that loves working with people. I seem to come alive as I laugh and giggle while the chocolate is served.

For most of the ceremony, I simply hold energetic space for others, imagining my heart as developing a personal connection with each of their hearts. Several times, I also assist Keith, participating as an empath, assisting in beautiful processes of emotional release.

This collection of amazing people has been traveling together for three weeks. They have developed a strong and cohesive group energy, which creates an environment of profound shared support.

By the time the afternoon chocolate ceremony begins, my heart is overflowing with love, confidence, and peace.

Pondering Pains

As a group of seventeen magical beings crowds Keith’s porch for an afternoon of inner journeying, it is soon quite obvious that the porch is filled with a large percentage of empaths.

I quickly find myself facing my own inner fears as I observe the work of others. It seems that every time Keith works with someone else, their work deeply resonates with me, deeply triggering my own process. I watch with special interest as a woman regresses into agonizing pains from when she was five or six years old. As her work unfolds, I experience deep pains in my own solar plexus. Intuitively, I know that the pains I feel are not my own – that I am simply “reading” the pains of my friend. Keith quickly confirms my intuitions, reminding me that my heart is open and strong, and that I am simply learning more about my own ability to literally feel the pains of others inside my own body.

“Wow, this really hurts,” I ponder silently. “It really, really, really hurts. If this is what I felt as a child, how could I possibly have survived that onslaught of pain? How could I have allowed myself to be joyful when doing so caused me to feel so much of the pain of others? Not only did I have love hooked together as resulting in pain, but I did the same with joy and play. Whenever my magical heart was happy and open, I took in this type of agonizing emotional pain. I then cried or acted out in some way– and was punished for doing so – causing me to take in more pain, self-hatred, self-judgment, and self-flogging.”

“No wonder I cannot remember being joyful as a child.”

The Sword Of Truth

As I drift through meditation, I find myself playing with Archangel Michael’s Sword of Truth … asking Michael to cut me free of my doubts, my fears, and the dysfunctional emotional hooks that no longer serve me. But I do not attempt to control or fix anything. Instead, I simply ask that “whatever I am ready to let go of be taken from me”. I remain in the back seat, watching as an interested observer.

After a while, I begin to feel a really nice energy opening up in my head, especially on the back side from the top of my neck up to my crown chakra. I love such energetic reassurance that all is well.

As Keith conducts an empath training with the many gathered empaths, I zone out and continue to explore my relationship with Michael, just playing with visualizations of the Sword of Truth. To my surprise, even without consciously participating in the training, my solar plexus begins to fill with sharp pains. Again, I believe I am “reading” the emotions of others rather than actually eating them and storing them inside of me.

My Personal Sword

As the empath training concludes, Keith breaks with normal routine and quickly moves into a subconscious basket meditation. To my shock, as I imagine a metaphorical basket suspended in the air in front of me, I get a brief-but-very-clear intuitive image of the Sword of Truth that unexpectedly shows up as lying across the edges of the basket.

In meditation, I imagine myself picking up this sword, grabbing the handle with both hands, with the tip pointing to the sky above me.

“I am the owner of this divine sword,” I ponder the magic that is being shown to me. “It is my own personal Sword of Truth … my magical gift from the Universe.”

Soon, I quietly slip into Keith’s house to retrieve a long pointed quartz crystal that Keith occasionally brings out during ceremonies. I hold it in my hand for the remainder of the ceremony, imagining it as physically representing the empath magic that I am gradually opening.

I do not share my metaphor with anyone, so I am quite surprised when a man across the porch asks Keith for guidance. He too found the Sword of Truth in his basket. In all of the times that I have done this meditation, I have never seen anyone pull this metaphorical sword out of their basket. Today, as I quietly bask in my own meditation, I am blown away by the energetic confirmation – a synchronous message telling me that my own meditative experience is very real indeed.

An Uncomfortable Pause

I soon find myself delightfully enjoying a long period of silent meditation on the porch – something that occasionally just happens when Keith feels guided to disengage and wait for more guidance. Peace fills my heart as I simply breathe.

Suddenly, Paul interrupts the silence, suggesting that we should do a “Pillar of Light” meditation.

“Quit trying to run the ceremony,” is the first unexpressed thought that runs through my mind as I begin to automatically project “past stuff” onto my projection-buddy Paul.

“When there is a quiet spot in the ceremony,” I continue silently projecting, “just let Keith do what he is guided to do.”

Suddenly, I remember that I have recently been projecting my mother onto Paul, and I make a deep intuitive connection about what is really going on in my process.

“My mother never let me have a quiet moment to myself,” I begin to ponder with clarity. “Whenever there was an uncomfortable pause, she interrupted me and tried to fill my life up with busywork.”

An All-Consuming Face

Rather than resisting Paul’s timely suggestion, I eagerly immerse myself into the meditation – but to my dismay, I meet fierce internal resistance at every step.

First, I am unable to imagine myself as sitting on a thin layer of light. Then, I struggle, trying to fake-it-till-I-make-it, barely able to imagine a support layer of this same light as it curls up around my hips. When Keith then guides us to send down roots to the earth – to the center of the Divine Mother – I find myself in extreme difficulty as I attempt to imagine such roots growing and descending from my root chakra.

Then, to my shock, as I continue in deep-but-distracted focus, I begin to shake with fear as my dear earthly mother’s face suddenly consumes my meditation. I am trying to connect and root myself to the pure unconditional love of the Divine Mother, but this visualized face has a different agenda.

I feel deep fear as I ponder sending down roots into the conditional nature of my mother’s love. She loved me deeply in the only way she knew how – in a way that literally put a leash around my neck.

Emotions of terror flood my body as I experience sudden brief-but-nightmarish regressions. A feeling of red-alert causes my body to physically shake as I involuntarily regress into the energies of control, manipulation, fixing, and loving judgment that clouded the perception of love in my childhood.

I cannot send those roots down … not now.

Waves And Cycles

The level of this regressed terror deeply catches me off guard. I quickly wield my imaginary Sword of Truth, asking Michael and my inner energies to release me from that which no longer serves me – to release me from the doubts, fears, panics, hooks, etc. As I do so, I begin to feel peaceful energy slowly lowering from my heart, filtering toward my solar plexus.

But then, my dear mother’s face again unexpectedly enters my visualization, and I once more I start to shake with inexplicable terror.

“I know that my mother’s love will control me,” I ponder in this craziness. “Her love will try to fix me … and micromanage my life.”

For more than a half hour, I sit quietly in this bizarre emotional meditation. I shake and cry in waves and cycles as the loving energy descending from my heart gradually approaches my belly button. Each wave of emotion begins with another visualization of my mother’s love. Between the tears and shaking, I find brief moments of peace and calm.

It feels as if something in my solar plexus is healing, or perhaps opening, but I attempt to stay out of rational mind – to stay out of the way – and instead simply watch and observe this completely unexpected journey unfold inside of me.

Ignored And Abandoned

Finally, after an unusually short session, people begin to filter away from the porch. Soon, I am left alone, still in the middle of my process, continuing to allow this bizarre and painful emotion to flow through me.

“You did great work today,” Keith briefly shares in passing as he walks into his kitchen to begin evening chores.

I want to finish my inner work. The hour is still early, and I suddenly feel deeply annoyed, abandoned, ignored, invalidated, and cut-short … as if who I am and what I am doing is not important to anyone else.

“Keith,” I call out into the kitchen, “can you please help me with my process?”

“Brenda, you are doing beautifully,” Keith responds with what I perceive as an extremely impatient and frustrated tone of voice. “You wait until the very end to begin your work, and then you want help.”

“Keith,” I again call out through the doorway, “I did NOT wait until the end. It is not even the normal ending time yet. I have been following my flow all day, and this is where it took me. I have been lost and alone in this emotion for a very long time.”

“Well, let me check,” Keith responds in what I again perceive as a frustrated and impatient tone.

“I’m getting that you are just fine,” Keith responds a few seconds later. “You are doing powerful work.”

Again, the kitchen goes silent. No help is offered.

Caught In The Act

As I ponder my deep annoyance at feeling invalidated, ignored, and abandoned, I begin to realize that I am profoundly reliving emotions from childhood.

“This is exactly what my mother did to me when I experienced deep emotions,” I ponder with clarity. “She was frustrated and impatient with my tears and need for assistance. She put me down, left me alone in my room, and ignored me … making me feel as if my tears were not important … as if I were bad and wrong for asking to be helped and understood.

“You are sounding and acting just like my mother treated me,” I call back into the kitchen with growing clarity. “You are modeling her frustration, impatience, and refusal to help me.”

“In fact,” I quickly add a request for confirmation, “this whole scenario of feeling ignored and abandoned at the end of ceremony, which has recently happened several times, is exactly what happened to me as a child, isn’t it? As a child, I was never given an outlet to process my emotions. When it was my turn, the support vanished. I was invalidated, my parents were impatient and frustrated with me, and I was told to just quit crying.”

To my delight, as I begin to find clarity, Keith soon steps back out to the porch.

“You are role playing and channeling my mother right now, aren’t you?” I suddenly challenge Keith with a big smile of recognition.

“Brenda,” Keith grins back at me. “That is what I am here to do.”

No Reason To Cry

“If you insist on crying, I’ll give you a reason to cry,” I soon blurt out a painful phrase.

“Ouch,” I begin to cry as Keith watches on. “That is what I did to my own children. It was done to me when I was tiny, and I passed along that invalidation and emotional abuse.”

“The piano really was one of the only outlets I had to release emotion in a safe way,” I share with Keith in newfound clarity. “It was difficult for me to release my emotions any other way, without creating more problems.”

Profound clarity continues to unfold as Keith and I converse. I realize that as a tiny child, I really was an alien, labeled as an emotional crybaby, not understood, and not validated. People were frustrated with me, impatient with me, and I was not allowed to process my confusing empath emotions – because there was no visible socially acceptable reason for me to even have those emotions in the first place. I was invalidated for trying to talk about my feelings, cut short if I began to share, abandoned and left alone by the very people that I needed to understand and help me.

“And today in the last part of the ceremony,” I share with Keith, “my mother’s face represented all of that love that should have understood and helped, but instead came with conditions that literally invalidated me and my magical essence … nagging, controlling, and micromanaging my life until I finally gave up and joined the cultural herd.”

A Controlling Collar

Keith soon walks back into town with me. He is having dinner with several people from the ceremony today. I have been invited to join them, but am exhausted and drained … and I am actually eager to isolate myself, to continue integrating the emotional insights that are flowing through me like a river. Part of me knows that what I need right now is to be alone … to have time to think and just be.

As I sit in my dark living room, I ponder the deep love that I have for my mother … and I know that she also loved me in genuine ways. Yet, I am blown away by the image of her stern face that continues to pop into my mind as I ponder that bizarre “Pillar of Light” meditation earlier this afternoon. That terror and shaking fear were real.

I do, and always have loved my mother … but I am profoundly clear that the conditional nature of her love did indeed traumatize me deeply when I was a young child. Her motherly love actually felt as if someone put a tight controlling collar on my neck … as if my own right to be an individual were being sacrificed. The only love I knew at the time was forcing me to give up who I am and to instead join the collective – a collective that made me feel as if I were an alien.

A Growing Inner License

As I lay on my pillow, late on Wednesday evening, I ponder something Keith had shared during the ceremony today. He indicated during the empath training that some people open up their magic very quickly.

“But some people have so much dysfunction inside because of how their magic caused problems,” Keith had added, “that they need to spend considerable time in cleaning up that dysfunction first.”

As sleep begins to consume me, I clearly recognize that I am among the latter group. And I am actually grateful for my dysfunction. I am learning so much compassion for others … and the experience of healing my own inner issues is ever strengthening my growing inner license.

Powerlessness

Thursday morning, prior to beginning another long day of writing, I take the time to watch a full length Abraham video … one titled “The Secret Behind the Secret, Part 1.” As I devour the beautiful messages in this video, I begin to find great clarity behind a few of my painful projections onto Paul from the past few months.

Following is a powerful quote that happens about thirty minutes and thirty seconds into the video.

“When you see someone who behaves in a way that is upsetting to you, and you cannot do anything about it, that feeling of powerlessness that comes over you is the strongest factor in disconnecting from your Source Energy.”

As Abraham talks about “powerlessness to change a situation”, I realize that this issue – which I have been profoundly projecting onto Paul as “powerlessness to protect my sacred space on Keith’s porch, and Keith doing nothing to change it” – was actually one of my most profound core issues as a tiny child.

“I was absolutely powerless to change my life situation as a child,” I ponder as tingles consume my body. “I felt the hopelessness and futility of being stuck in a place where events around me were painful and not to my liking, but as an innocent child, I was powerless to change a thing. I finally just gave up and disconnected from Source. I felt as if God had let me down, and that I would never receive help from the one source that should have had my back.”

An Exciting Start

Friday morning, March 23, 2012, begins in an exciting way. I begin by pulling a beautiful Tarot card. Then, in a beautiful Skype call with my dear friend Pyper in Alaska, we giggle with delight as we confirm plans for her to come visit me in about a month. Next on my magical list is picking up my two new debit cards from a friend who just returned to San Marcos late last night. Finally, after reading a powerful chapter in the book “Oneness” by Rasha, I pull another powerful Tarot card.

I could not imagine a more beautiful way to begin what I hope will be a profound Friday afternoon chocolate ceremony.

“You have really nice energy today,” Keith makes a passing comment at the beginning of the glow meditation.

As the meditation progresses, my heart feels alive, opening, and strong. I invite higher love to fill me, and as I do so I feel beautiful energy in my crown, but I also note that my lower chakras continue to feel dead. As I invite energy from Mother Earth to fill me from below, the resistance from Wednesday begins to fight back. I quickly abandon attempts to connect with the Divine Mother, and for now, choose to receive the love that I am able to allow.

Reframed Perceptions

As Keith begins working with individuals, I note with curiosity that this is one of those days where Keith seems deeply guided to focus a great deal of attention on certain individuals who are ready for some type of major growth. As I observe the unfolding scenario, strong inner guidance tells me that I might be journeying mostly on my own today. I quickly get right to it, returning directly to the resistance from Wednesday – to the place where I was unable to connect with the Divine Mother – to the place where my dear mother’s visualized face caused me to sink into inexplicable waves of tears.

As I sit in this painful place, tears begin to trickle down my cheeks. Soon a young Spanish woman comes over and takes hold of my hands, attempting to console me and make me feel better. Immediately, my emotions vanish, and I am about to ask her to please stop.

But instead, I realize that her intention is genuine, that being pulled out of my process is a choice over which I have power, and that I can choose to instead reframe my own thoughts – seeing her as an angel feeding me with powerful space-holding unconditional love. Soon, I am able to reconnect with my intense emotions. I am quite proud of myself for how I am able to take what I could easily have labeled as fixing energy, and turn it into a powerful metaphor that supports me while I release a great deal of emotion.

An Un-climbable Wall

As Keith works with a young woman across the porch (I will call her Stephanie), I watch with curiosity as some of what Stephanie does relates to my own process. She is deeply stuck in a mental blockage that keeps her from moving forward.

Soon, I find myself in a very familiar place, stuck at the bottom of my own wall of glass – an impassable obstacle of thick un-climbable glass that is five meters tall. My obstacle today is that I am unable to connect with the Divine Mother. I desperately want to get over that wall, to connect with this loving energy, but I clearly realize that my rational-mind does not have the slightest clue as to how I can possibly do that.

I attempt to surrender, to simply allow, letting myself freely feel what little love that I can feel. I imagine myself standing in the hallway next to that metaphorical “circle-of-friends” room where all of my divine-being friends hang out … but I still cannot enter. A huge hidden part of me remains too frightened to feel that profound love. In my conscious mind I desperately crave that love, but something inside is terrified of receiving it, absolutely knowing that I do not deserve it, that connecting to it would overwhelm and destroy me.

I attempt to imagine a group of beautiful earthly friends filling me with love. I know that such divine love is freely available, that it is everywhere around me if I can simply remove the blocks and allow myself to receive it. But I am stuck … hopelessly stuck … so stuck that fear-filled tears begin to trickle.

Help, Please

While focusing on allowing pure divine love to join me in my stuck place, I notice someone on the porch holding a crystal. Seconds later, responding to intuition, I return from Keith’s kitchen, holding his large wand-shaped quartz crystal – the one that reminds me of my own personal “Sword of Truth”.

I quickly close my eyes and imagine myself as a young child, using this sword – my own magical sword – to cut away the lies and conditioning – to cut away my resistance and fears that prevent me from allowing the love that another part of me craves.

Soon, Keith surprises me when he pauses and asks if anyone else needs help. After a long pause, I speak up.

“Yeah,” I respond, “I could use some help in my stuck-ness.”

I quickly fill Keith in with a brief summary of my metaphorical and emotional journey.

A Puzzling Paradox

Suddenly, as I share about how I am holding my “Sword of Truth” at the bottom of my wall, Stephanie interrupts up with a question.

“What if those Divine Friends and your Sword of Truth ARE the wall that is blocking you from moving forward?” Stephanie asks.

I deeply resent Stephanie’s question. It makes no sense to me, and feels like she has no understanding whatsoever about the metaphorical journey on which I am traveling.

It is only as I write, nearly seven weeks later, that I semi-understand what Stephanie was trying to tell me – that the act of trying to do something so that I can get over the wall is the very act that is keeping the wall in place … making the wall real and impassable. As I ponder while writing, my mind returns to a quote Keith often paraphrases from the description of the Osho Zen Tarot Burden card – one that talks about the truth not needing to be found … that the truth already is … that seeking after the truth is the lie’s way to hide.

“Am I really creating that block to love, simply by trying to find a way to receive it?” I ponder the puzzling paradox. “Is seeking after the love, the love’s way to hide?”

A Confusing Touch

“Can I come over and touch you?” Stephanie surprises me with her next request.

To my surprise, after I say “yes”, Stephanie walks over to my pillow, briefly touches the fingers on my left hand as she takes the crystal out of my hand, and then returns to her seat on the far side of the porch, taking my crystal with her. I am quite annoyed about losing my (Keith’s) crystal, but deeply curious as to where this joint flow might be taking us.

I simply stare across the porch, making deep eye contact with Stephanie.

“How are you feeling now?” Keith asks after a few minutes of silence.

“I’m feeling a little lightness spreading in my heart,” I respond with confusion, feeling somewhat amazed by how Stephanie’s brief touch is energizing me.

Soon, Stephanie sits directly in front of me, takes my hands, and we share energy for most of the next hour or two.

Energizing Energy

Stephanie seems deeply energized by my energy … and I feel the same effect from her energy. Intuitively, I recognize that I am using Stephanie as a transparent channel for the divine feminine energy that flows through her into me, and that I am a similar channel for her. Keith has moved on, while Stephanie and I continue in this beautiful process. We talk quietly between us in what is a profound experience for both of us. Stephanie shares about how she is terrified of giving love to others. I respond by sharing how I am terrified to receive pure divine love.

We are talking quietly, in what is actually a very deeply shared joint process/healing exploration together. I find it almost humorous when Paul soon interrupts Stephanie, asking her to please be quiet and to hold space for what is happening across the porch. We are not being the least bit disruptive or inconsiderate.

“Just ignore him,” I smile with confidence as I continue talking to Stephanie.

I find it quite fascinating how someone who is still an occasional disruptor on the porch is now attempting to play the other end of the script, scolding us for softly chatting during a very deep life-changing process – at least for me. On a side note, I clearly see my projected mother in this perception of Paul’s behavior.

A Painful Wall

As Stephanie and I continue working together, I soon feel a sharp and painful wall form across my heart chakra, feeling as if it is near the surface, just beneath my ribs. Intuitively, I know this is my resistance to bringing in the Divine Mother energy … I know that part of me erected this wall to stop me from doing so. I begin to cry lightly in small tender waves.

As we continue to whisper our profound insights to each other, I recognize that I am gradually, ever so slowly, bringing in some pure divine love to my heart. This energetic wall across my heart is painful and obvious. I do not judge it and I do not attempt to fix it, but instead simply observe and trust that all is well.

Soon, the empty cushion beside me to the left becomes occupied by a woman (I will call her Beth) who has been on the porch a few times before – a woman who is deeply stuck in her stories, and who has a very stubborn feeling to her.

Honoring Me

“Will you please be quiet,” Beth angrily whispers to me with a serious scowl in her face. “I am trying to hear what Keith is doing across the porch.

“I’m sorry, but I am in the middle of a very deep and profound process for me,” I respond lovingly. “We need to keep talking about it, and we are whispering. If you want to hear Keith, why don’t you just move closer to where he is working?”

Beth scowls back at me and begins to go into a dramatic vocal expression.

“Me, me, me, selfish, selfish, selfish, all about you, me, me, me,” Beth taunts me with childish, self-righteous, ranting, criticism about how I am so horribly inconsiderate and selfishly victimizing her.

As I observe this scene, I am quite delighted about how lovingly empowered I am, and continue to be. I feel no judgment or resentment whatsoever towards Beth, and I am quite clear that my process right now is beautiful, profound, and deeply important for me.

For the first time in my life, I clearly feel no guilt about knowing that I need to honor myself and my process, that I need to give myself permission to heal, regardless of any criticisms that naysayers around me may throw in my face.

Unconditionally Loving Empowerment

Suddenly, new and very profound recognition and insights flood my awareness. With a huge smile and pure love in my heart, I respond to Beth.

“Thank you so much for showing me what my mother did to me,” I lovingly whisper to Beth. “This is really quite powerful for me.”

“Me, me, me, selfish, selfish, selfish, all about you, me, me, me,” Beth again goes into trauma and drama as she repeats her angry words about how horribly inconsiderate I am.

“Wow, this is really powerful,” I again respond with pure love. “Thank you so much for showing me how much my mother tried to shut me down in the middle of my emotional processing as a child.”

As I stare into Beth’s angry eyes, with no judgment felt or intended, I literally feel as if an angry witch is staring back at me, attempting to control and humiliate me into conformance with her wishes. I simply continue to smile as my heart radiates with profound loving clarity and awareness. I hardly even notice when Beth storms off to a different seat and soon exits the ceremony entirely. She has done so before, and she will be back … or not.

“I cannot believe how profound this is for me,” I ponder with delight. “I have lovingly stood up for myself, my needs, my childhood self, following my heart, doing what is right for me, without letting an angry witch shut me down with guilt. And I did it from a state of calm, unconditionally loving empowerment … not having any type of in-your-face attitude, no emotional charge whatsoever … just a smile and a gentle suggestion that Beth might consider moving seats.”

A Quiet Release

Continuing to feel nothing but love in my heart, I sink into inner excitement about the profound insights that were just triggered. I realize that, in a very huge way, I have just been given an amazing gift – a gift of deep understanding regarding how I, as a child, was rarely allowed to process emotions without having guilt and resistance dumped on me for being a disruptive child. My needs did not matter. All that mattered was that I keep my mouth shut and not disturb the peace of those around me.

As I further disengage and go inward, giving myself permission to feel intense anger at my beloved mother, I begin to cry quietly. For a long while, I go into intense release while doing so extremely quietly, still remaining quite aware that an important process is also taking place across the porch.

My process includes a variety of deep muffled sobs, quietly whispered swear words, and gut-wrenching dry heaves of energy that I literally feel leaving my chest region.

Lightning Love

Soon, as this intense-but-quiet release subsides, I begin to experience a noticeable lightening of the energy in my chest as mild lightning bolts begin to run through my hands and fingertips. It seems that the more I release the internal blockages, the more such magical energy begins to wake up in my hands and elsewhere. I still remember the first time such energy spikes dazzled me as they surged out of my fingertips back in November 2010. Today’s energy show is powerful, but nothing like that initial experience.

“Can you feel that?” I ask Stephanie with a look of delighted surprise on my face.

“Yeah, I can,” she responds with a look of awe on her own face.

Keith soon takes note of what I am doing as he prepares for an empath training.

“Share that lightning energy with yourself,” Keith encourages me.

Soon, I place my fingertips at the center of my heart. As I do so, I begin to feel weak abdominal pains that migrate throughout my abdomen. These pains feel different from those I have felt before. At one brief moment, I feel a strong beautiful flowing channel of energy form between my belly button and my heart. When it soon subsides, I recognize that I have been given a quick glimpse of grace, showing me what it feels like to have energy flowing from my power center to my heart.

Frustration, Impatience, And Confusion

When the ceremony is over, I remain behind for what I imagine will be a very short and beautiful discussion with Keith. I want to ask about what happened between me and Beth.

“You were right to continue your inner processing,” Keith reassures me. “She was just looking for an excuse to leave early, and you gave her that excuse.”

“Can we talk about the work I did today?” I ask Keith for a few more minutes. “I do not feel done … I do not feel closure with my process.”

“Brenda, you know what you did,” Keith responds, “but we can talk about it if you want.”

As Keith talks, I pick up on what I strongly perceive as a deeply frustrated tone in his voice. Almost immediately, I feel triggered by what feels like his impatience with me – as if he is telling me something for the hundredth time and is tired of having to say it. Keith denies being impatient or frustrated when I ask him about my perception, but the exaggerated emphasis in his voice does not change. I perceive it very strongly. I feel unjustly attacked and judged and begin to sink into deep confusion regarding why Keith would be treating me this way.

It feels as if my mother is being profoundly impatient with me. I am simply wanting and asking for a little understanding and validation.

Palliative What?

In retrospect, I clearly recognize that Keith (knowingly or unknowingly) beautifully played the role of my mother for me – not slamming me with words, but instead triggering me through the subtle tones of his voice.

It takes me a minute to figure out that I have deeply sunk into my all-too-familiar loop of childhood confusion – one that I first wrote about over a year ago. I try to discuss this confusion with Keith, begging him to be patient with me, explaining that no matter how I struggle, I need him to be patient with me. But try as I might to defend myself, I feel as if Keith simply scolds and slams me … not necessarily with words, but with the way I feel about his overall way of talking to me.

“You have looped in this doubt and confusion over and over,” Keith firmly refuses to honor my request. “At this point in your process, continuing to give you what you want is no longer helpful. It is just palliative.”

“Huh,” I ask Keith to clarify that last word – a word that he has used before.

“It just fixes symptoms and gives you a non-solution, not solving anything,” Keith plays the tough role for me. “It just enables you to go around and around this same loop, over and over again.”

“But I was not in this loop when we started talking.” I protest. “You triggered me into it. How do I stop this? How do I break beyond this pattern?”

“You love yourself for being right where you are, for being stuck,” Keith responds with a loving tone.

Deep And Pathetic Confusion

“But I just need some rational-mind assurance to help calm me down from this confused state,” I again beg Keith to be patient with me.

“That is palliative,” Keith responds with a firm no.

“But I need it,” I protest.

“Brenda, I have given you that reassurance over and over,” Keith speaks in what I continue to perceive as a very impatient and frustrated tone.

“Please,” I beg Keith, “when I slip into this regressed childhood state I cannot help it. It does not help me when you are impatient and frustrated with me.”

“I’m just talking like I always do,” Keith insists.

“No you are not,” I respond with certainty. “Your tone is extremely impatient and frustrated.

“You’re just triggering this loop on purpose, aren’t you?” I suddenly have a flash of insight and clarity.

“That’s why I am here,” Keith responds with a grin.

A Confident Response

“You sunk down into the dense emotions and went into this confusion during the ceremony today,” Keith continues his apparent role play, again trying to see if he can suck me into more confusion.

“No, I did NOT,” I respond with unconditionally loving empowerment. “I was confidently following the flow wherever it took me – doing so throughout the whole ceremony. I intuitively knew very early on that I was not going to get a lot of guidance today, and I was great with that. I knew that I was going to be journeying mostly by myself today.”

“When I was at the bottom of that wall,” I continue in confident expression, “I was not doubting myself. I was following guidance that whole time, doing things to love myself and to help soften my resistance using visualizations etc…”

I continue this speech for a few more minutes, sharing beautiful details of my process, explaining how confident I had been in simply doing my own thing.

“It was only during this conversation that I got lost into this childhood confusion loop,” I lovingly share my truth. “I just wanted to discus my interactions with Stephanie and Beth, and to talk about the lightning energy I had felt again. And I was just hoping for a kind acknowledgment about what I am doing.”

God Drama Revisited

By now, I clearly realize what is happening. Keith has brilliantly triggered my loop of childhood powerlessness and helplessness – my loop of needing approval and needing a recipe – my loop of how asking for help only makes things worse. Whether he knows he is doing it or not, Keith has played his role quite well.

I am also quite proud of myself. I initially got lost in the crazy confusion, but am quickly finding the clarity to exit the loop … doing so with loving empowerment.

“This is your God/separation drama,” Keith reminds me when I share my insights. “You were not really angry at your mother, but were actually angry at God.”

“Processing this emotion with your mother,” Keith continues teaching, “is a step in understanding that ultimately takes one to what is behind all of that at the Deity Drama level. These arenas are where we gain experience and understanding in the core dramas that we came here to work with.”

I Took The Bait

For a few minutes, I sink into a round of deep emotional release surrounding the feelings of futility, powerlessness, and hopelessness that had been the theme of my childhood – the theme of feeling as if I was an alien who was forced to live in an environment that did not resonate with my soul. I recognize that I am right back into the realizations that were beautifully shown to me while watching that Abraham video yesterday morning.

“Thank you for taking me to this crazy place,” I share my gratitude with Keith when the emotions soon subside. “Thank you for helping me to deeply understand the pain and futility of myself as a tiny two-year-old child.”

“You probably tried to express yourself, to explain yourself, and to ask for help,” Keith shares his insights. “And every time you did so with your parents, it just backfired, making things worse. And then, being the empath that you are, you took in all of your parents’ frustration and stuffed it inside of yourself.”

“Yeah,” I respond with deeper understanding, “I really was an alien who had to simply give up like a broken horse. Resistance was futile.”

Again, I briefly discuss Keith’s skillful role-play with me. As difficult as it has been, I clearly see how I needed him to do that with me … how I needed to be triggered as part of my healing and “know myself” process.

Keith lovingly reminds me that future opportunities to enter this loop will continue to present themselves … until of course I no longer take the bait. It seems that this time I did nibble on that hook for a while, but I am actually quite proud of myself for letting go of the hook before it was completely set.

Real Life Metaphors

After A quick hug, I again thank Keith for taking me to such a profoundly difficult place.

“You are making wonderful progress,” Keith reassures me as I begin to walk away.

Upon arriving at home, I discover that my internet connection is down for the night. In a very real way, just as in childhood, I am alone and disconnected.

As I cook my usual rice and beans, I ponder how close I felt today – close to actually receiving some type of increased love. I know I am still in process. As the observer, I know that something quite profound is gradually shifting inside, and that rational-mind is not the tool. Nevertheless, rational-mind is somewhat frustrated and annoyed that it cannot figure out what to do.

Shortly before 10:00 p.m., as I rest my head on a fluffy feather pillow, the mind-chatter begins. It seems that even though I have found profound peace regarding the inspired role-play between Keith and I earlier this evening, that a little fellow called EGO has a very different idea about what took place tonight. As the endless stories begin to parade through my head, all hope of sleep begins to fade.

But such a crazy journey is best saved for another day … another very painful day.

A Wild Ride

The roller coaster ride of these last five days has been an adventure with fun thrills and blind frightening curves, involving three very different chocolate ceremonies and three long-but-rewarding days of writing.

On Wednesday, after a beautiful morning ceremony, I am shocked by the sharp turns in an afternoon ceremony as I learn just how deep my resistance remains toward receiving love from the Divine Mother, from Mother Earth herself. Even more intense is the terror and shaking that rocks my inner world when the image of my mother’s face pops into my visualization. It is an image reminding me of the “love is a leash” feeling of love being equivalent to control, manipulation, and being forced to join the collective cultural reality.

Thursday brings beautiful insights through a powerful quote from Abraham – a quote that helps me profoundly understand one of the main reasons I completely disconnected from Source – one of the main reasons for my ongoing God/separation drama. I experienced a childhood where culturally-normal circumstances deeply upset and traumatized me – a childhood where I was powerless to do anything about the pain – a childhood where I was forced to simply give up and conform.

In a very innocent way, Friday begins as a calm and relaxed continuation of Wednesday’s turbulence, but soon, pulls me into another blind curve of confrontation, loving empowerment, lightning bolts, and deep confusion as Keith’s perfectly-orchestrated behavior guides me into a profound “know-myself” process.

The ride is far from over, and I am totally unprepared for what lies around the next bend, but for now … just for now … I have found peace.

Riding this wild roller coaster, at least when viewed in retrospect, is turning out to be quite fun.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

The dilemma is that secure and reliable mail delivery here in Guatemala is quite difficult and expensive. I have an important issue to resolve, and I need to do it quickly. If not, I will be unable to conveniently withdraw cash for rent and daily living expenses.

Thursday morning, after walking around and asking for advice from several friends and business owners in San Marcos, a new idea pops into my head … use Facebook. Without hesitating, I logon to Facebook and send messages to all my San Marcos friends, asking for advice on how to safely receive mail. A little while later, as I busily write away on my next blog, one Facebook response hits the jackpot. A friend from San Marcos just happens to be in Arizona, and will be returning to Guatemala next week. If I can get the cards expedited to her Uncle’s address by Monday, she can bring them back to me.

I send a quick email to my son, giving him all the information, asking him if it is possible to get the cards in the mail sometime on Friday. I get no response … nothing … nada. Yet the peace in my heart tells me that all is well. I know that if this does not work out, other options will present themselves.

A Verbal Slam

Early Friday morning, I find myself on a boat, zooming across the lake to Panajachel, making a quick trip to a local ATM to withdraw as much cash (daily limits) as possible before my old cards are cancelled. By midmorning I am back home, stowing about two-month’s rent away for safekeeping. I know that if my situation does not get resolved, I will be able to make several more such trips before the cards expire next week.

Soon, I walk over to Keith’s magical porch in preparation for an afternoon chocolate ceremony. After explaining my debit card adventure to Keith, telling him that my son has not yet responded to my email, I am totally unprepared for the shakedown I receive.

“You should call your son,” Keith gives me stern advice … advice that feels as if it is coming from a place of fearful urgency.

“I can’t do that now.” I respond calmly. “It is time for the ceremony, I don’t have his number with me right now, he is busy at work, and it is his daughter’s birthday today. I don’t even know if they are home this weekend.”

“See how you are just making excuses for what you cannot do?” Keith verbally slams me in what I perceive as a condescending and attacking tone of voice.

Projected Fears

Before continuing, I need to briefly regress to the past.

A few months ago, after a ceremony across the lake, one of the participants (I will call Judy) had asked if she could share our private lancha for a quick boat ride to Santiago, a small town just a short hop across the bay. She and a friend wanted to go to dinner and would return to their retreat center later that night. When Judy had mentioned that the boat driver told her he would not be able to pick them up later to bring them back to the retreat center, I allowed my own fears to surface.

“I don’t think you should go unless you have a way back later tonight.” I had told Judy. “If you can’t get a boat, you will be stuck all night in Santiago.”

As these words left my tongue, I was feeling my own fears … fears of what I would do if I were stranded at night with no way to return home.

A few weeks later, when asking Keith for feedback in another difficult situation (one in which I was on the edge of giving up and running away from San Marcos), Keith had reminded me of this incident on the boat. He let me know in a firm way that I had been way out of line in projecting my personal fears all over Judy … telling me that I was trying to control and manipulate her behavior because of my own insecurities … telling me that it was not my place to worry about her choices and decisions.

Stuffed Resentment

“What is the difference between what I did to Judy a few months ago and what Keith is now doing to me?” I ponder in annoyed and defensive frustration.

I feel somewhat angered by what I perceive as Keith’s hypocrisy. I feel as if he is projecting his own fears and insecurities all over me, trying to control and manipulate me into doing things his way … even though I feel completely trusting and peaceful about doing them in my own way.

But rather than make waves, I just stuff my resentment down and prepare for what I hope will be a beautiful healing chocolate ceremony.

Terrified Of Losing Control

During the glow meditation, I experience some peace in my heart … but am also intuitively aware that fear is bubbling in my abdomen. I do not know how I know this, I just do.

I am totally focused on flowing with nonattachment to my process … simply allowing the river of my flow to take me wherever I need to go … through the rapids of pain or the calm of bliss … trusting my Higher Self to guide me.

When Keith begins working with individuals, he first asks if anyone would like any personal assistance. After a few minutes of silence, I finally speak up, explaining that my heart feels mostly strong, but that I have a sensation of fear in my abdomen.

“I think it has to do with surrendering control to the flow of my river.” I express my feelings to Keith. “I think that part of me is terrified of losing control … not trusting that flow.”

After Keith validates my feelings and encourages me to keep following the inner metaphorical bread crumbs, another man on the porch interrupts with some rational-mind head advice … advice about how surrendering control can be a scam.

I simply smile, acknowledge his words, and then continue my process … remembering how Keith once reminded me that I can receive divine guidance from the words on a cardboard box. This man’s words do not resonate with me – and they are totally out of context with my own process – but I choose to allow him to have his own truth.

Shared Fear

Soon, I watch as someone (not Keith) begins to encourage and verbally push a friend who seems to be stuck in deep fear … trying to coax him into forging forward through his fears. I note that my friend seems terrified to go deeper into his own process.

I feel my friend’s fear … feeling it quite intensely … and begin to wonder if perhaps some of the fear I was feeling earlier in my own abdomen was in fact, not even mine. Intuitively I know that much of what I feel is indeed my own fear, but I also recognize that feeling my friend’s fear has facilitated me in feeling my own.

A few minutes later, I note with nonattachment that my friend stands up and leaves the porch. He is too afraid to go deeper right now … too afraid to face the inner demons that lie on the other side of those fears. A sense of peace resonates in my heart that all is well … that my friend is doing exactly what he needs to do. I trust that whenever two people share an interaction, that each is a willing participant in either creating or allowing that reality to unfold.

I love how clearly I am beginning to trust the flow, not just of my own process, but also trusting the flow of other peoples’ processes.

Unable To Hop

I begin to recognize a clear unfolding theme. As Keith works with a woman next to me, she is dealing with fear and control. Everything Keith does with her resonates deeply with me as well.

But it is the next woman’s work that begins to trigger my own deep journey. She is a powerful empath who does not yet even know what an empath is. As he works with her, Keith glances at me because he knows that I am deeply connected with her process. When my eyes meet Keith’s, I smile my acknowledgment. No words are necessary in this exchange.

The woman describes a recent dream in which she was a grasshopper who could not hop.

“As a child, you were not allowed to hop.” Keith shares wisdom with this woman.

Keith’s words take me into my own meditation. I do not know how I know it, but I am now regressed to two years old as I consider my own inability to “hop” … subconsciously remembering how my innocent toddler explorations were severely controlled and restricted because a child in their “terrible-twos” is too active and gets into too much unbridled mischief.

In fact, I spend the remainder of the ceremony deeply knowing that I am regressed to the tender age of two.

A Knowing Ground

“I was not allowed to cry,” this woman shares with Keith as she now begins to cry quite profusely in the ceremony today.

“I was not allowed to cry either,” I ponder clear emotional and physical memories. “Crying got me into trouble. I could not be a bubbly, bouncy, hopping child, and I could not cry when I was sad. Both got me into trouble.”

To my surprise, I begin to feel a deep sense of anger and rage flowing through me as Keith continues working with the woman.

“You were unable to express anger to your parents,” Keith almost simultaneously tells this woman who continues to explore deeply into her own childhood shutdown.

“I can feel her anger,” I interrupt Keith at this phase of the process. “She cannot feel it right now, but I sure can. It is nearly overwhelming me.”

In fact, the anger I feel flowing through me is so strong that I am beginning to wonder if it could be my own. But somehow I know that what I am feeling is the anger that this woman has inside, but is not allowing herself to feel. Since I am a “ground”, and since I am deeply connected to her process, her emotion is flowing through me.

When I ask for guidance, Keith confirms that I am indeed feeling her emotion and not my own.

A Punishing Dilemma

As Keith moves on to work with someone else, I sink deeper in my own process. My heart remains connected and loving while fear continues to bubble inside me. I am pondering my own status as a two-year-old alien – a young magical child not fitting into a 1957 world.

“As a two-year-old I was punished for feeling everyone else’s pain,” I ponder with clarity. “And I was punished for crying about the pain I felt … punished for being angry when I was unjustly punished … and punished for being too active, and for “hopping” too much.”

“And I cannot blame my parents,” I further ponder. “They were doing the only thing they knew how to do … honorably loving me and training me as best they could. I literally was an alien child, going through a shutdown that was a necessary part of my process.”

Whitewashed Wonderings

As Keith works with others, most people are stuck in some type of deep inner resistance. While one man is sarcastically joking, Keith points out that he has a layer of whitewash smeared over his issues, keeping them hidden.

“Go below that layer where all of this stuff is whitewashed,” Keith guides this man.

“Wow,” I ponder my own process ever deeper. “Am I still so stuck in denial that I have all of my shutdown pains hidden by a layer of whitewash? Is this why I am still unable to open my power connections? Am I still too frightened to know the truth about my own childhood?”

A Traumatized Toddler

Eventually, Keith returns to check-in with me, and we end up talking for a half hour as I share and discuss all of my deepening insights from the last two hours.

“I am a stuck two-year-old who could not hop, cry, or be angry … and I have a whitewashed cover over the pain that keeps me from moving forward.” I summarize my insights to Keith.

Keith quickly takes this opportunity to remind me of how I am regressing into childhood emotions … and he spends a few minutes educating the group on the way such regressions work, while also explaining how it is important to allow regressed emotions to flow with nonattachment … without identifying them with present-day reality.

I am blown away by how intense my own emotions have become. I feel this two-year-old toddler’s crazy fear, his overwhelming desire to cry, his anger, stuck-ness, and denial. But as I do so, I am also lovingly and peacefully holding space as the adult observer, making no attempt to judge, to fix, to make-wrong, or to heal. Instead, I simply hold a butler-tray of love for this traumatized toddler.

But I feel as if my process is stuck and going nowhere fast.

Waving Flags

Soon, another man starts to do some work, but he too is stuck. Keith gently tells this man that he is scamming himself.

“Your inner metaphors are a flag waving in the breeze, saying dig here,” Keith shares with the man who is refusing to listen.

“Brenda does this a lot,” Keith then shocks me as he continues. “She has flags waving faintly to get her attention and she often does not trust them.”

Keith’s words cause me to stop what I am doing and to pay more attention. I know that I often do not trust myself, that I frequently need validation from Keith before I will trust my own waving metaphorical flags, but I begin to wonder if there is something I might be missing right now.

I feel slightly triggered by the fact that Keith is not pushing me to see my own flags. But when I observe that Keith also does not push this man beyond what he, himself, is able to see and admit, I am lovingly reminded of the beauty of the way Keith works. Unless otherwise guided by their own Higher Energies, Keith never pushes anyone into a place to which they are not ready to travel.

Spinning Confusion

I almost giggle when another woman shows up on the porch in a deeply stuck state. I will call her Leslie. It seems that “stuck in fear and control issues” is very much the underlying theme of today. As Keith works with Leslie, he begins to guide her into a subconscious meditation. I decide to follow along in my own way.

To my shock, as I try to follow Keith’s guidance, I am overwhelmed by crazy swirls of energy in my head … a dizzying confusion that has now become quite common in my process.

“I am feeling the swirling confusion of my two-year old,” I begin to ponder with intuitive clarity. “It was at this tender age when my inner magic began to severely clash with a left-brain culture of logic, literally causing my head to spin in confusion as it is doing right now.”

Painful Puppy Metaphors

Soon, as a part of this same guided meditation, Keith encourages Leslie to use the love of her own heart to love and assist her inner child. When Leslie and another person on the porch begin to sob, I ride their wave. I am attempting to use my own powerful love to help my two-year-old inner child feel loved – not in a pushing way, but as a butler, making unconditional love and metaphorical hugs available to my precious child.

To my shock, as I begin this process, I feel deep heel-dragging resistance toward loving my own inner child. A part of me hates this crybaby rebellious child. Wow.

Simultaneously, I am reminded of a YouTube video I recently watched about a frightened puppy that just needed to be loved. Intuitively, I realize my own little inner child is that terrified dog and I am the judgmental adult that wanted to send the dysfunctional puppy to the pound.

As I ponder this scene, I break down in muffled sobs. I feel my inner child in anguish and screeching as the love is offered. And I remember my own emotional reaction in recent times when others have held me in their arms me on the porch – recalling several times when I have broken down into screeching wails as someone held me with pure love.

For anyone wanting to view the YouTube video, it can be found at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K8KwKgumceM

Riding The Wave

As Leslie’s emotions settle, so do mine. Keith guides her to bring in light, and I do the same. I am momentarily stable.

But a few minutes later, when Leslie returns to agonizing sobbing, I profoundly feel her emotion and again sink into my own two-year-old pain … right back into my own teeth-chattering muffled sobs.

When the meditation is over and the emotions settle, Keith turns to me to acknowledge verbally how I have been profoundly riding Leslie’s energetic wave.

“Wow,” is the only way I can respond. I am nearly in shock.

For the remainder of this amazing chocolate ceremony, I focus on bringing in love and light while meditating, simultaneously expressing my intent for this light and love to be made available to my inner child. Later, I also begin to visualize my mother’s higher essence as I imagine her sharing the purity of her real love for this tiny child.

A Flow Of Guidance

As the ceremony concludes, I am delighted by the opportunity to engage in a short “wow-filled” conversation with Keith regarding my experiences in the ceremony.

“You achieved a new level of trusting and following your flow today,” Keith congratulates me.

“But I really think you should have oars in your raft,” Keith suggests, referring to the fact that I always talk about floating down the river of my flow in a raft with no oars. “You need to look ahead and make minor course corrections to avoid the big rocks, etc…”

“I don’t want to have oars,” I respond. “I want to be able to trust the flow to take me to exactly the right places at the right time.”

“But you need to be able to respond to guidance,” Keith suggests why I might need oars.

“Of course I do,” I clarify, “but to me, the guidance is part of the flow. When I think of oars, I picture that as me trying to be in control. But if you are suggesting oars as a means of following guidance then I absolutely agree.”

As I walk home shortly before 6:00 p.m. on this beautiful Friday evening, I giggle at how words and differing perspectives can complicate communication.

Confronting Conflict

After a beautiful Saturday of writing and publishing a blog titled “Confronting Conflict”, I am again blown away by how my inner work and writing seem to line up so synchronously together.

Early Sunday morning, March 18, 2012, I find an email that was sent to me by my son. I am shocked when I read the words and then check the date and time when they were actually sent. It was an email clearly sent into the system on Thursday afternoon, confidently stating that “I believe that we can get the cards sent out tomorrow” (referring to my two debit cards). The email had been mysteriously lost in the system for two and a half days before finally showing up in my inbox.

As I ponder the weird synchronicity, I realize that the entire situation with my debit cards, right down to the fact that an email was strangely lost in limbo for two and a half days, has been a clear and unusual setup by the Universe.

I have been learning to work with conflict for several months now, and right in the midst of writing about it, I am synchronously given a scenario where intuitions tell me it is time to have an interesting conversation with Keith. I am still quite annoyed by the manner in which he had badgered me before the ceremony on Friday. Something tells me that Keith was knowingly following guidance when he triggered me in that conversation. I really want to explore the situation in a loving and honest way – in a way that will take me deeper.

Partying With Doubt

The Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony starts out quite small, but we soon end up with fifteen people crowding the porch. When Keith checks in with me after the glow meditation, I fill him in with where I am at.

“I was beginning to struggle with doubts,” I share my journey, “so I invited all of my doubting energies to join me in my inner conference room, along with my inner children. I am asking all of these energies to throw dramatic temper tantrums like you had me do in a meditation a few months back. I am working on releasing these doubts through the silliness, and it seems to be working somewhat.”

“Brenda,” Keith suggests a different metaphor. “Why don’t you set it all up as you would set up a childhood party, with party favors, goodies to eat, hats, horns, toys, etc, and ask them to all play at the party?”

As I focus on this party scene for a minute or two, I experience deep inner resistance to the concept of partying. These energies absolutely do not want to party.

A Forbidding Mandate

A few minutes after Keith moves on, he turns to work with me again.

“I feel like the adult energy in me is preventing me from being able to party or play,” I share unfolding insights.

“Explore the metaphor itself rather than the concept of play,” Keith quickly suggests. “The idea is to be joyful and in your magic. These energies are not allowed to be in their divine joy.”

“Wow,” I respond. “That feels so much more in line with what happened. My parents had boundaries on my play, but I did play hard as a child. However, I was not allowed to be my genuine, divinely joyful self.”

“The deep resistance I feel right now is strongly showing me that I was forbidden to be in my joy, to be in my divine magical self,” I further clarify.

“Brenda, I’m getting a stronger word,” Keith interrupts. “I’m getting the word ‘mandate’. It was a mandate that you could not be in your divine joy and magic.”

Love Is A Leash

I continue to meditate quietly in these metaphors while Keith works with others. At one point, I am deeply resonating with the work Keith does with a woman across the porch. Suddenly, Keith turns around to work with me.

“Brenda,” Keith surprises me, “she is working on the same thing that you are.”

As I shift gears to focus on what Keith is sharing, a new series of ideas suddenly flood my process. I am again intuitively guided to memories of that frightened-puppy video – the one to which I shared a link earlier. As I review my terrified love-starved state, combined with images from the video, I sink deep into the childhood terror of being my real self.

“I have love hooked as being equivalent to a leash,” I suddenly blurt out to Keith as I imagine a scene in the video where a puppy screeches with fear as a leash is placed on her neck.

“As a tiny child I learned that love was a leash that would drag me around to do whatever my parents wanted,” I begin to share insights. “That leash controlled me, prevented me from following my heart and doing what I wanted. That leash was a prison … love felt like a prison.”

As I imagine myself at age two, I see that every person that represented love to me was clearly, with genuine intention, trying to put such a leash around my neck. At such a young age, it was impossible to separate the concept of love from the concept of being controlled by those who loved me.

To my surprise, as I hold space from the observer perspective, I begin to feel as if my inner child is crying deeply inside, screeching in agony, screaming out “No, don’t love me that way … I don’t want that type of love.”

Empath For An Energy

Soon, Keith returns to work with me. After filling him in on more details of my journey, he suggests that I, as the adult empath, connect with one of those terrified, love-starved energies.

“Ask that energy if it would like to release its pain to you,” Keith suggests.

As I follow Keith’s guidance, I suddenly begin to sob and dry heave.

“Yes, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to feel it.” Keith reassures me. “As this emotion passes through you, you will feel portions of it.”

After perhaps ten minutes of intense emotional release, the dry heaves cease and the tears fade.

“I don’t know if I am done,” I express my shock to Keith, “or if I just shut it down … but it has stopped.”

“Trust yourself,” Keith reassures me. “If there is more, it will come back. Now, reverse that channel and bring in divine love. Make it available to that frightened, love-starved energy, whether it is accepted or not.”

Divine Joy Equals Pain

Almost immediately, I intuitively sense a stiff resistance to receiving this love. I feel a great deal of loving energy in my head and chest, but only a trickle of this flow makes it into my tight and painful abdomen.

I focus on this process for a while as Keith moves on. I bring in a nice vibrational energy of loving peace. The energy swirls delightfully in my crown area, my heart glows with peace, and an ever-so-gradual flow begins to fill my still-resistant lower chakras. The process is very slow and limited, but I clearly recognize that I am in a trust-building process. Many aspects of my inner child energies (and other love-starved energies) remain quite frightened of receiving such love – love that remains hooked as being equivalent to a leash. I trust that over time these energies will relax and allow.

When Keith begins to guide the group in an empath training, I remain deeply in my own process, but do partially participate with the group. But about halfway through, panicked inner energies cause me to stop. These parts of me remain quite terrified of further opening to my magic.

As the training continues, a new understanding suddenly unfolds in my heart.

“It was not necessarily the adults or parents in my life that would not let me play or be in my divine joy,” I begin to ponder. “Instead, I had learned that more divine love meant more magical connection … and when I was more magically connected I internalized more emotional pain from others … and when I experienced that emotional pain I cried and attempted to explain myself and/or seek validation. Eventually I was punished in some manner for my behaviors related to those pains.”

“I suppressed my divine joy in order to control the pain that always came as a result,” I ponder with clarity.

A Room Of Leashes

Later in the ceremony, Keith guides a woman deep into her subconscious. As I usually do, I choose to follow along in my own way.

After climbing down a ladder, sliding down a fireman’s pole, riding to the basement in an elevator, and finally walking down a spiral staircase, I reach what I intuitively feel as being the end of my descent into the subconscious mind.

Soon, continuing to adapt Keith’s guidance for my own individual process, I walk down a hallway and find a doorway that reads, “Love equals leash.”

As I stare at the words on this doorway, I suppress muffled tears as a few tissues begin to pile beside me. This door is extremely intimidating.

Finally, when I find the courage to open the door and step just under the doorframe, I am unable to go any further inside. The entire room is filled with leashes that dangle from all areas of the ceiling.

An Uncut Hook

Meanwhile, Keith is talking to the group about the truth energy and how it relates to the Christian/Jewish metaphor of Archangel Michael, the angelic being who represents this truth energy. Keith teaches that the number one project of Archangel Michael is empaths – people who use the sword of truth to cut people free of their inner lies and densities.

“Use Michael’s sword to cut you free of ‘love-equals-pain’,” Keith encourages the woman for whom he is primarily guiding the meditation.

As the woman begins to sob, Keith points out that cutting this “hook” of “love being equivalent to pain” can be quite intimidating – making you feel as if you will never again receive love if you cut this hook. For many, receiving love through such dysfunctional hooks is the only way they know how to be loved – and undoing such a hook means losing all hope of future love.

The woman is eventually able to cut her hook, and as she does so, she begins to laugh with joy. I am very jealous. It seems that in my own process of attempting to cut my “love-equals-leash” hook, I am still unable to even enter the room.

“You made great progress though,” Keith congratulates me after I express my insecurities about not being able to complete my journey. “What you did today is perfect. There is no need to push the process.”

Facing The Fear

As the ceremony concludes, my heart skips a beat as I express my desire to Keith to have a half hour of personal conversation before I go home. I still need to discuss my festering feelings of conflict, and fear of expressing myself. I am honored when Keith agrees to my request for some one-on-one time.

I begin by sharing my fears, expressing that what I want to say feels as if I am about to engage in intense conflict and confrontation.

“I have a lifelong pattern insisting to me that directly speaking my truth always leads to rejection and loss of friendship,” I express my nervousness to Keith while my heart thumps loudly in my chest.

Soon, I lovingly lay out the entire scenario through my perspective … sharing how I had felt bad when he told me a couple of months ago that I was out of line for projecting my fears onto Judy. I then hesitantly add how much I was annoyed and bothered when he did the exact same thing to me on Friday morning when he projected fear onto me by telling me I should call my son, and insisting that I was making excuses when I attempted to explain why I did not agree with him.

Love And Hate

“Keith,” I giggle as my sense of peaceful trust begins to return, “this morning when I received that delayed email – the one lost in limbo for two and a half days – I clearly realized that this debit-card thing was all a setup to trigger the need for this very discussion. I realized that it is time to break my pattern and to learn how to have such a frightening conversation.”

“Brenda, it doesn’t matter if what I said to you on Friday morning was staged or real,” Keith then admits that he was indeed aware of the energy when he shared his words on Friday. “What you need to do is to figure out what you want to do about this issue inside of you.”

I both hate and love how Keith always keeps me guessing, not quite admitting whether he was or was not following guidance on Friday – whether he was or was not role-playing for me – and how he always reminds me that my reaction is an inside job.

Pattern Recognition

Once the ice is broken, Keith and I engage in a delightful discussion and exploration of my lifelong pattern – the one telling me that speaking my truth always results in conflict and loss of relationship.

I love how the incident with Judy (a few months ago) gave me deep understanding of how I tend to project my fears and limitations onto others. I love even more how the delayed email caused me to profoundly experience how it feels to be on the receiving end of such projected and controlling fear from others.

But what I love most is that Keith is showing me how I can speak my truth in a loving way. In the course of our conversation, I share several real-life examples from the past ten years where I have been deeply troubled by the behavior of others, yet I stuffed and repressed my feelings until they finally reached a boiling point. I now clearly realize that the reason speaking my truth resulted in rejection is that by the time I found the courage to speak up, I was so filled with angry repressed emotion that I could not share my truth without projecting torrents of emotion as well.

Healing And Preparing

“I have changed so much over the last few years,” I share my delight with Keith, “but it is still sometimes a big stretch for me to find the courage to talk about such feelings.”

Keith reminds me that there are no rules for when to speak up and when to process the emotions in another way.

“Just follow your inner guidance,” Keith encourages me. “Sometimes you need to talk to the person. Other times you may just want to write a letter and burn it. It all depends on the situation.”

“Bring in a generic friend in front of you,” Keith soon guides me into meditation. “If you cannot speak your truth to this friend without it creating a conflict, is this person really your friend?”

“Of course not,” I easily respond a few seconds later. “I do not want to be close friends with someone who will not allow me to lovingly speak my truth. It has only been in the last ten years when I began to attract friends with whom I could be completely honest without such fear. But even with those dear friends, I still sometimes panic at the thought of sharing something that may be rejected.”

“Brenda,” Keith guides me further, “this whole process is preparing and assisting you to heal these issues so that you can have more real friends, and maybe even an intimate relationship, where you can speak your truth.”

As I stroll homeward around 6:00 p.m., I again ponder the beautiful sequence of events that have guided me to this profound lesson – events from three different time periods all flowing beautifully together, topped off by a mysterious email delay. I giggle how such synchronicities are becoming ever more frequent … and I love how I am learning to confidently speak my truth while doing so from a space of unconditional love and nonattachment.

A Tale Of Three Journeys

Three separate journeys have intertwined my process this week, each seeming quite different and separate on the surface.

The first seemed to begin with two debit cards that were being cancelled. But that journey quickly pulled in a multitude of synchronously-related situations, two of which were months old. The tantalizing event to top it off was a magically-delayed email. The culmination of this journey ended with a fear-inducing need to speak my truth and face potential conflict.

The second journey took me through profound emotional regressions to a time that I clearly recognize as being around age two. Events of that Friday afternoon chocolate ceremony helped me to deeply understand the twisted and confusing emotions of my young childhood – emotions that found me puzzled by the rules of the world around me – a world that would not allow me to hop, to cry, or to get angry – a world that literally punished me for feeling and expressing the emotions that were at the very core of my being.

The third took me deep into the understanding that I have had a lifelong journey with the feeling that love is like a leash around my neck – a leash that is meant to control me and keep me in line so that others can be happy.

Interestingly enough, these three journeys tightly overlap. The “love is a leash” journey taught me that disagreement and disobedience would be punished, and that humble compliance is the only way to be loved by others. The journey with a two-year-old regression taught me that being my true self, and expressing my true feelings, was sure to cause the leash to be tightened and pulled in extremely unpleasant ways. And the trek with conflict itself … well that makes perfect sense given my journeys with the other two.

I know it is time to let go of my “need for the leash” … but a very frightened energy inside me continues to subconsciously fear that if I release the belief that “love is a leash”, that I am also ultimately giving up all hope of ever receiving love.

While I am not quite there yet, a little sparrow flying above me tells me that the end result will be just the opposite.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

The journey of the last six months has been so intense that I had nearly forgotten how to laugh as I repeatedly regressed through one painful emotion after another. Spending a delightful week of sharing with Pyper has shown me in beautiful ways that I still know how to belly laugh. Wow did I ever need her giggling energy to remind me of the fun that life has to offer. However, now that her short visit is over, I am eager to get back to routine.

But I am getting ahead of myself. My desperately needed giggle-fest has left me seven weeks behind in my writing. It is time to return to the past, to March 11, 2012 – to the day after a beautiful birthday celebration.

Time To Journey

During an inspiring Sunday morning Skype conversation with a dear friend in Arizona, my tiny little sparrow friend stops by several times to check on me as he perches in my window to say hello.

“The sparrow is sharing a message of love,” my dear friend Susan intuitively channels for me. “She is telling you to love yourself for where you are at in your process, and to enjoy the freedom.”

Soon, after a few hours of delightful conversation with Conny (who has decided to spend the weekend in my spare bedroom), I find myself strolling out to Keith’s magical porch.

It is time for more journeying through the inner labyrinth of my subconscious.

Reading The Pains

During the first half of the afternoon, I find myself in a beautiful heart space. Even though I feel intense pains in my solar plexus, my heart is alive with energy, and a smile remains lightly implanted on my face.

“I am feeling a lot of solar plexus pain today,” I soon share with Keith. “But since my heart still feels trusting and powerful, I think that I am just reading the densities of others. Would you agree?”

“Brenda,” Keith quickly confirms, “there is a great deal of intense solar plexus energy on the porch today.”

To my delight, another woman quickly confirms that she too is noticing the same pains in her body. It seems that with each ceremony, I take another baby step in learning to trust the subtle nuances of my inner energy sensitivities.

Emotional Quicksand

During this peaceful period of observation, I watch as Paul continues to make his way around the porch, sharing his version of healing energy with others. I am delighted to recognize that I am no longer projecting any type of emotional charge in Paul’s direction.

But then, about halfway through this beautiful ceremony, I abruptly sink into the quicksand of this well-performed stage play. To my shock, I suddenly catch an unexpected glimpse of my mother as I observe Paul. I feel the deep annoyance of my loving mother’s attempts to rescue and fix me – of her being my metaphorical shadow, not allowing me to stumble and fall, or to step into emotional release. While continuing to watch Paul work with others, I see my devoted mother, doing the best she could, desperately trying to serve me while simultaneously causing me to push and stuff my emotions down.

This journey through buried memories begins to push all of my painful buttons. I am profoundly triggered by what I observe. As I sink further into the clutches of this emotional quicksand, I find it increasingly difficult not to identify with these emotions – to separate this childhood regression from present-day reality.

Over the course of a few minutes, I completely withdraw from the group energy. I feel like an alien in a place where I do not belong – in a place where no one understands me – in a place where my mother seems to be rewarded for her loving and dedicated efforts to rescue me, while I want nothing more than to run away and hide from such invalidating assistance.

I have profoundly regressed into the self-loathing emotions of childhood.

Disconnected Isolation

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts my isolation at one point in the ceremony. “Remember how you recently complained to me about having no group energy and cohesiveness in ceremony?”

“Yeah,” I respond from my state of shutdown and isolation.

“Well today, the group is working together in profound ways.” Keith points out bluntly. “People are supporting each other on different issues …working together and sharing energy.”

“I feel like I just completely disconnected from the group.” I respond glumly. “I feel like I want to go dig a hole and climb down into it. I am not feeling the connected energy.”

“Exactly,” Keith points out with a firm-but-loving tone.

A Lost Loser

Soon, Keith begins to work with another woman who has been stuck and in resistant denial throughout the entire ceremony. As he engages her in conversation, talking to her about her stuck isolation, I recognize that Keith is really talking to me.

I find myself feeling like a total isolated looser – an alien in a world that does not fit, a world that does not understand me, one that I do not want to be a part of. Right now, in my state of emotional regression, this magical porch feels like that alien world. A huge inner energy begs me to stand up right now and leave.

“Everyone else is having energy breakthroughs,” I ponder in my deeply agitated state. “Even this woman who has been so stuck is now beginning to successfully bring in loving Higher Dimensional energy.”

“I continue to be a stuck alien,” I further flog myself in silent frustration. “I am the only looser who cannot seem to do it.”

An Unknowing Choice

When I later check in with Keith, briefly explaining my deep emotions, he emphasizes to me that I am deep in my God/separation drama … and that my feeling of isolation and disconnection is a choice.

As I ponder Keith’s words, I just want to scream.

I realize that this is a “choice” made by a part of my inner energies that are just outside of my awareness. I know that this “choice” is related to deeply ingrained subconscious anger at having felt abandoned by true Higher Energies as a child – but knowing that this is a “choice” only increases my sense of alien frustration.

In my state of isolation, it seems like everyone on the porch is “getting it” except for me. I try to reach out and connect to my “Higher Dimensional” friends – but I only feel more isolated and alone – feeling a sense of self-flogging and hopelessness.

Hidden Screams

Eventually, as others in the group begin sounding some “ohming” tones together, I begin to resist and further resent the group energy from which I am so profoundly isolated. Tears begin to stream down my cheeks as I pull a large blue scarf over my head to further withdraw. I want to scream out in anger – anger at my stuck-ness – anger at being such a stupid looser.

Finally, I join in with the gentle verbal toning. As I do so, buried emotions begin to bubble to the surface. I cycle between random waves of stuck-ness, mild tears, and feeling numb. I cannot allow myself to go deeper.

Soon, several men across the porch begin to go into their own release of angry yelling emotions. I am so detached from the group that I have no idea what or why they are doing so, but I take advantage of the opportunity for my own process.

Each time the men across the porch go into the loud screaming sounds, I join in underneath my scarf, engaging in my own screaming that is cleverly muffled by theirs. As I do so, I access deep rage at my powerlessness, at my inability to understand, to fit in, to do what everyone else seems to find so easy and natural. Angry and agonizing tears stream down my cheeks as I subtly join in with this now-group process.

Incognito Anger

When Keith shares a personal story with the group – a story detailing how he himself had struggled with his own version of such humiliating stuck-ness – my inner anger intensifies. I do not want to struggle for three years to learn how to allow myself to receive Divine Love. I want to figure out how to allow that love now, but I continue to feel like that dry and barren Sahara desert with a huge wall surrounding it – a wall that continues to keep most all love out.

Based on past experience, I decide to use my anger in an attempt to access my resolve to overthrow this feeling of inner powerlessness.

When the men across the porch yell some more, I start to wail in agony, anguish, and waves of sobs. I attempt to do so incognito, remaining disconnected under my scarf. I want to ride their wave, under the cover of their noises, not drawing any attention to myself.

“Yeah, Brenda, Join in,” Keith encourages me when he notices my secret participation.

With the added encouragement, I let go of more inhibition and cut loose even more – but continue to be quite restrained. I still want to just stand up, grab my things, and walk away. I remain deeply disconnected from the group energy, desperately wanting to climb into a hole and pull the lid over me.

Fear, Tears, And Shaking

Finally, still feeling as profoundly stuck as ever, I recognize the answer. As much as I do not want to admit it, the answer to my dilemma – to getting out of this stuck state – is to bring in Higher Love to help me. I realize that this part of the journey is a solo one – that no one can do it for me, not even Keith.

As I attempt to bring in some loving energies, I feel a tiny bit of tingling in my crown, but remain quite stuck.

Intuitively, I am guided that the love I need to bring in to help me right now is my mother’s true love – the underlying love that she had for me behind the conditional lenses that clouded it. As I silently express my intention to the Universe, asking for my mother’s true love to join me, I also ask for filters to keep out any energy that is not pure.

To my shock, as I begin to surrender and allow this experience to unfold, deep fear consumes me as I begin to cry and shake. As I search for actual memories when I was able to feel such pure love from my mother, I cycle between waves of intense fear and mild feelings of trickling love. I begin visualizing a few experiences of tender hugs prior to age five. When I take this inner journey into my teen years, the fearful emotions increase dramatically – but I also begin to experience a sensation of solidness and power in my High Heart region, extending from my heart all the way to my throat and shoulders.

I clearly recognize that I am feeling a small flow of real love from my mother, but continue to cycle in the waves of fear, tears, and shaking.

Transparent Reception

“How are you doing?” Keith eventually queries as he gently nudges me on the leg to get my attention.

After I fill him in, Keith asks me to trust him.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me. “Invite a Higher Being to stand in front of you, and ask that Being to send you conditional love, just like the love you received from your mother and others. Let it all come to you with NO filters. Instead, just be transparent, non-attached, not being affected by anything that is colored with conditions.”

“Just receive the only love that is offered,” Keith continues. “Receive what is offered without being disempowered by the conditional nature, without allowing someone else to drain you, to have power over you, or to affect you in any way. Their behavior is theirs … their love is enough … you are the one in charge of how you feel when receiving this love.”

As I put Keith’s beautiful words into meditative practice, I realize that he is reminding me that how I feel when receiving such love is an “inside job” – that no matter how conditional someone’s love might be – that I can still receive the pure essence of that love with transparency, without allowing myself to feel disempowered in any way.

Soon, I am immersed in deep peace as I feel portions of this love flowing through me … and none of it feels threatening or disempowering. In fact, I feel just the opposite … I feel deeply blessed.

Detached Disorientation

As I continue receiving this conditional love from the Higher Being in front of me, I begin to feel a wall in my heart. As it increasingly forms, a buildup of pain develops in my solar plexus.

I see the wall as resistance to, and fear of, the conditional stuff that is filtering in. Again I focus increased attention, silently expressing meditative intent that none of the conditional distortions can touch me, that only the unconditional love will fill me and that all conditional energies will just flow right through me.

I sit in this focused state until the end of the ceremony, which soon dissolves into nearly an hour of disjointed socializing and chatter. While quietly meditating in my solo journey, I again feel like an alien. I want to finish what I am doing and simply pay no attention to the detached distractions of the porch.

As I sit in this solo state, I feel deeply connected to the love, while simultaneously experiencing dizziness and swirling energy in my head. I recognize this head-swirling as a feeling of disorientation – of being how I must have felt as a child when feeling like an alien that does not fit in, that does not want to be here.

I consider leaving, but do not want to walk home in this confusing state of disorientation. I hang around to the end, hoping to get closure through a brief conversation with Keith.

Unable To Run

“Keith, I feel like I am in multiple worlds right now.” I finally get the chance to discuss my journey in private.

“Brenda,” Keith responds, “you are. You are deeply regressed into your childhood. This is not the present day. You are feeling what the child felt in an alien world where you did not feel as if you belonged.”

“Today was a powerful stage play for me.” I expound on my journey. “When I felt like a loser, just wanting to scream, I literally was that young child who could not understand the world as my parents described it to me. I felt as if I were surrounded by a world where everyone seemed to fit in and belong – everyone except me. I just wanted to run away and isolate myself.”

“But you couldn’t run away,” Keith aptly points out.

An Important Insight

When I explain to Keith that I remain quite confused and disoriented, he reminds me that I am still in the middle of being regressed into those childhood emotions.

“They are flowing through you on their way out.” Keith shares what I already know on one level.

“My heart is really peaceful right now,” I express confusion to Keith, “but my head remains quite dizzy and disoriented.”

“These are your childhood experiences flowing through you.” Keith again reminds me. “You are experiencing how it felt to have those chakras open in a world that did not fit.”

“I feel as if I am in that state of confusion that I have often experienced here on the porch,” I express to Keith. “It feels as if I was punished for being in this confusing state, which only increased my confusion.”

“That is a very important insight.” Keith points out.

Right-Brained Roots

“I don’t want to go home while I still feel so disoriented, not feeling closure to my process.” I soon express my nervous fears to Keith. “I still feel the childhood need-to-isolate running through me … as if I do not belong … as if I do not want to participate in this reality … and my friend Conny is sleeping over at my house again tonight.”

“Just let it flow through you,” Keith calms me after repeatedly congratulating me on my unfolding insights. “Trust your process … trust that you can go home right now and that all is well.”

Keith then reminds me that I simply need to remain non-attached and unidentified with these emotions … that if I can do so then the emotions are being released … but if I attach and recharge my emotional reactions to what is flowing through me, that I will be given repeated opportunities to play it out over and over again until I am done.

As our beautiful conversation comes to conclusion, Keith and I briefly revisit the alien metaphor. He talks about how most people who are now waking up to their magic during this period on the planet chose to be born in a time and place where they too felt like aliens who were born into a foreign planet.

“Yeah,” I respond with new insight. “As a child, I was magically connected, a right brained child who was an alien in a logical left-brained world. Today I feel as if I regressed through the exact opposite in reverse. Now I am still somewhat stuck in my head as a conditioned left-brained alien who is attempting to reconnect with my right-brained roots.”

Immigration Or Bust

After a delightful final evening of visiting with my dear friend Conny, the two of us are up very early on Monday, March 12. With a full tummy of chocolate-laced oatmeal, we board an early-morning Tuk-Tuk to nearby San Pablo shortly before 6:20 a.m.. Conny is beginning her return trip to Mexico, and I am off on an adventure of my first-ever solo visit to Guatemala City, hoping to pick up my precious passport at the immigration office. Sensations of nervousness are far outweighed by a feeling of trust and confidence that “I can do this … all by myself”.

Minutes later, the two of us are sharing a chicken bus destined for Xela, wildly winding our way up the steep switchbacks overlooking gorgeous Lake Atitlan. An hour later, at 7:30 a.m., I hug my friend goodbye and work my way toward the front of the extremely crowded bus. Conny will continue on toward Xela, but I need to get off at the intersection of the main Inter-America highway, where I will catch a different bus that will carry me on to the capitol city.

The long bumpy bus ride is tedious and tiresome, but very reliable, dropping me off at the end of the line just before 11:00 a.m., in a cement jungle near the heart of Guatemala’s crowded capitol. It takes me about thirty minutes to walk down traffic-laden streets to the immigration office, and I finally have my renewed passport in hand by 12:15 p.m..

Feeling quite proud of myself, my first solo trip to the city is flawless. After a hurried walk back to my bus stop and a four-hour return journey, a little Tuk-Tuk finally drops me off near my home at just after 5:00 p.m..

I am exhausted, so the rest of my evening turns into a burger-fest for my inner children and a relaxing movie before bed.

Daunting Regression

Tuesday morning brings a return to the emotional regression. I want to write, but deep childhood emotions tug forcefully on my heart. I try to watch a happy video clip in preparation for writing, but the process just serves to emphasize how unhappy my weird emotions are. I am feeling very depressed, hopeless, and antisocial. I am loathing myself, I do not want to write, and a strange sense of hating other people flows through me.

I know these emotions are not true … I know they are a continuation of the childhood regression from Sunday … but the emotions are overwhelming and deeply convincing.

I recognize the hopeless, antisocial feelings as arising from my teenage years. I feel as if I was given a one-day reprieve from my process, but am now deep in the whiplash of my flowing journey.

The emotions are so overpowering that I decide to walk over to Keith’s home to return a map of Guatemala City – one that I could easily have returned tomorrow. I am not sure what I need, but sitting alone in these regressed emotions is daunting.

A Series Of Initiations

“I am back in that flow of childhood nightmare,” I express to Keith as a few tears unexpectedly burst down my cheeks. “I feel like I want to crawl into a hole and pull a lid over me.”

Soon the tears flow freely as Keith begins to search on his computer for a quote that he feels guided to share with me. It is one from the book “Oneness” channeled by Rasha. Following is this beautiful quote.

“In order to know, experientially, the state of fearlessness that comes of aligning with one’s Godself, it is necessary to undergo what might be considered to be a series of initiations. These manifestations, as experiences, of one’s fear of the state of disconnection, are in fact illusory devices that you have created for yourself so that you might have the means of proving otherwise. By consciously choosing, in one’s darkest hour, to reject the vision of hopelessness that appears inevitable, and to choose instead the knowingness that the outcome will reflect your highest possible good, you open the doorway within to the place of loving trust that will lead you home.”

As I read these beautiful words, I recognize myself and in many ways feel as if I am in one of my darkest hours of hopelessness. I clearly recognize that these emotions have nothing to do with the present day – but the currents of these emotions are strong and swift. With all my heart, I want to find and open that doorway within.

Surrender To The Flow

“You are in a powerful place,” Keith reassures me.

But when he reminds me that there are no formulas and that I need to find my own way through this process, I want to scream. I desperately want help from outside … but realize that this is an inside job and that the help I seek must come from inner connections.

“I feel an agonizing sense of extreme hopelessness,” I share the intensity with Keith. “I feel as if my observer-self is hanging on by a thread, on the verge of getting lost in this.”

“There is no way to teach surrender.” Keith surprises me by his response.

“You mean I am just supposed to surrender to this flow?” I ask for clarity.

“Yes,” Keith smiles back at me.

Gentle Surrender

Keith suggests to me that rather than going home right now, that I just sit and meditate in his kitchen for a couple of hours while he goes about his normal morning chores. I am deeply grateful for his kind invitation. I need all the support I can get right now. In this meditation, I am able to access some nice energy, but a deep and distracting energy of confusion continues to dominate my head. I try to walk down into my subconscious mind, but the distracting confusion is so overwhelming that I cannot make it even one step down. I realize that for now, my journey is simply to sit with this confusing emotion, to allow it to flow through me, and to surrender.

Shortly after noon, I thank Keith for his kindness and return home, feeling somewhat stable while still flowing this intense emotional river through me. I am so exhausted from emotion and travel that I lovingly choose to honor my humanness, and gently grant myself permission to withdraw for the rest of the day – a day consumed by three movies and a tiny earthquake that interrupts just over halfway through the second movie.

Bedtime cannot come fast enough.

Animal Guides

Wednesday morning at 5:36 a.m., I awake to the sounds of someone using a sledgehammer to break concrete just around the corner from my bedroom wall. I have long since given up all judgment for such bizarre morning noises. Using the opportunity as an unexpected alarm clock, I instead get out of bed to attempt a Skype call to a dear friend who is celebrating her birthday tomorrow.

I love my friend. In the midst of an hour-long conversation, her loving support helps to ground me … helping me to further surrender to the unknown wonders of my process. This dear friend guides me to see my process as a journey through the jungle, where a magical jaguar guides me from the tree branches above, keeping me safe and leading me through each step.

As the afternoon chocolate ceremony gets underway, I use my dear friend’s metaphor as the basis for my meditation, visualizing myself in a jungle sitting with a black jaguar who is my male-energy protector and guide. Soon, my little sparrow friend pops into the visualization, revealing herself as my little free-spirited female guide. As she dances and plays in the air above me, I realize she has no cares for tomorrow, and she is not anchored to the ground as I know it. I love this amazing meditation with my male and female energy guides.

I sit and play with this fun experience until well after the glow meditation terminates.

An Unexpected Invite

When Keith has progressed about halfway around the porch, he begins to work with a young woman that I will call Melissa. As Keith explores with her, it becomes obvious that Melissa is a powerful empath who, much like me, functions as a ground (or lightning rod) for the emotions of people in groups. She has been deeply agonized by the shutdown of her magic as a child, and is beginning to experience painful anguished emotions as Keith works with her.

“Brenda,” Keith soon interrupts and turns toward me, “Melissa was shut down in much the same way as you, and is feeling the same type of deep pain over what happened to her. I would like you to come over here and connect with her … connect with her pain and see if you can feel it yourself.”

Sharing Journeys

As I sit directly in front of Melissa, staring into her eyes while putting out silent intentions for my heart to connect with her energy, I gradually begin to feel a mild ache at the center of my heart chakra. After about ten minutes of intense focus and surrender, I have an area about eight inches in diameter, directly over my heart chakra, that is overwhelmed by sharp painful aching – so painful that I begin to cry.

Meanwhile, Melissa has gone deeper into her own unfolding process, and is now hitting deep screeching wails of anguish as she processes her emotions. The more I focus, the more her pain becomes my pain. When she cries out in pain, I too feel like crying right along with her.

“Good, Brenda,” Keith soon interrupts, “you’re getting there.”

I continue my process of surrender and connecting, continuing to relate profoundly to Melissa’s release process. In the midst of this, Keith asks another woman to sit directly behind me, holding space for my own process.

Soon, I begin to go extremely deep into gut-wrenching pain, expressing itself mostly through agonizing dry heaves of energy and some coughing.

Suddenly, as I experience one especially deep dry-heave, I have a powerful physical feeling that I am vomiting out energy from that nail-in-my-heart spot.

Way Out There

Almost immediately, I am intuitively reminded of the metaphorical “Phillips screwdriver” that continues to be energetically immersed in this spot – one representing the fixing energy of my mother – one that I have attempted to remove on several occasions, but which has remained quite securely lodged in my energy field.

I quickly mention this reappearing metaphor to Keith while continuing to dry heave agonizing energy from this spot at the center of my chest.

“Do you want to do something ‘way out there’?” Keith soon asks Melissa when my own emotional release eventually subsides.

After explaining more details to her about the metaphorical screwdriver stuck in my heart, Keith tells Melissa that she is going to help me to pull it out.

Shifting Metaphors

“Reach your hand right here in front of her,” Keith guides Melissa.

I already have my right hand clenched tightly over the spot, and Melissa places her hand right above mine.

“Imagine yourself holding the end of the handle,” Keith guides Melissa.

For the next twenty minutes, Keith coaches Melissa through her own experience of feeling the screwdriver in her hand while I focus entirely on relaxation and surrender, trusting my black jaguar and tiny sparrow to guide and protect me … trusting and allowing … doing nothing else.

“Can you feel that the screwdriver is somewhat relaxed and partially loose now?” Keith asks Melissa.

As I observe and surrender, I begin to get lost in the metaphor, starting to doubt the existence of such a weird appendage sticking out of my heart. To make things easier, I feel intuitively guided to release the metaphor and instead simply view the energy in my heart as a blob of fixing energy that now needs to be psychically removed. To my delight, this shift in metaphors allows me to get more out of my head and into full surrender.

Removed And Released

As Keith continues to work skillfully with Melissa, I note that he begins to be overwhelmed with emotion as well. Tears form in his eyes as he feels the powerful significance of what we are all working on together.

As I again look into Melissa’s eyes, tears saturate both of our faces. I see divinity in her glowing eyes as I continue my unfolding process of surrendering, allowing, and trusting that she has the magical ability to assist me. Fears dance through my soul as I further allow someone from outside to help me do something that I cannot do for myself.

“There, it is free, pull it out now,” Keith finally guides Melissa after another ten or fifteen minutes of deep emotional coaching.

As Melissa pulls her hand back and releases the energy to the angels, she expresses that she definitely felt the energy coming out of me. Keith confirms that he too felt it quite clearly.

I do feel slightly different, but my energy sensitivities remain so weak that for me, at least for now, trust is a major element of my process. On the intuitive level, however, I have strong inner guidance telling me that this has been a very real process indeed. As Keith often shares, this is a process that cannot be validated using rational mind. It is something that I will need to integrate – something that will eventually be quite clear to me over time.

Healing Old Wounds

As Keith moves on to work with others, I sit in deep peaceful meditation, integrating and bringing in peaceful loving energies.

Gradually, I begin to feel a sensation of solidarity at that nail-in-my-heart spot – as if power and clarity are beginning to return to my energy. While Keith coaches someone else in a “soul-retrieval” process, I begin to engage in my own soul-retrieval – focusing on bringing in increasing amounts of higher energy and light while silently expressing my intention for whatever parts of myself that I may have pushed out of this place to now begin returning as appropriate.

Again, I visualize my black jaguar and tiny brown sparrow, asking them to guide me while I simply breathe and allow. As I do so, I experience many random pains and sensations of expansion in my high-heart region. I am now feeling a definite and noticeable difference in my energy field – one that feels as if old stinging wounds are beginning to heal with new love.

Need-To-Know Basis

“The screwdriver is out,” Keith confidently reassures me a while later when I ask for feedback. “It will stay out unless you choose to bring it back in a few days time.”

I definitely do not want to do that. I want to fill this place with healed light and love. But I clearly recognize that when energy work such as this is done, that unless changes are made and new paths are chosen inside of me, that the old energies will indeed return.

As I further integrate in deep meditation, I feel as if I am lying on the “Goddess’s operating table” – a metaphorical term that Keith sometimes uses to explain to people what they are feeling when energy shifts begin to move around in their body.

“Keith,” I eventually ask, “can you help me understand what all of these energy movements are in my body?”

“Part of you doesn’t want to know right now,” Keith lovingly responds. “This part of you is not ready to know or sense this yet. It is better, as part of a trust-building process, that you don’t need to know. Your rational mind might get in the way if it is given more feedback.”

Powerful Pauses

For the remainder of this beautiful ceremony, I mostly tune out from other events on the porch and instead continue integrating in my own process. I feel a beautiful energy flowing through me in spite of the fact that my head is still partially clouded by that confusion energy that has followed me all week. But intuitions tell me this confusion is fading fast, being replaced by newfound clarity.

By Thursday morning, I feel emotionally on top of the world. I wish I could say I was done with my intense journeying, but I clearly recognize that instead, I am being given a gift of grace, a beautiful opportunity to spend the day writing a blog titled “Defying Gravity”. I love such powerful pauses in my process – desperately needed pauses to give me a chance to reconnect with the light, to recharge my passion, and to prepare for my next adventure.

Magical Metaphorical Animals

It has been an amazing and intense five-day journey – a journey graced by animal metaphors from two dear friends. That magical black jaguar and tiny free-spirited sparrow have proven to be powerful metaphors in helping me surrender control to a higher flow – to trust and allow that my own Higher Self is guiding me through the labyrinth of my jungle journey.

On Sunday, I was immersed into an unexpected childhood regression, one that took me back into the forceful flow of intense teenage emotions – emotions that made me feel socially lost and alone – emotions of being an alien in a world not my own. In fact, it becomes increasingly clear that such a feeling of being an alien began at a very young age. In a twist of trust, I learned that I can indeed begin to allow self-love and motherly love to fill me – to heal my love-starved heart. I learned that I can receive the conditional love directly, in a state of transparency, and that it is possible to feel the pure unconditional love hidden behind the conditions.

After a day of fun-but-tiring travel to Guatemala City, Tuesday took me ever deeper into that emotional regression, nearly overwhelming me.

And on Wednesday, those magical metaphorical animals guided me through a jungle of emotions – emotions of connecting to my empath abilities more deeply than ever. And to my amazement, after connecting to and assisting Melissa, she became a beautiful angel in helping me to remove fixing energies that have been stuck in that nail-in-my-heart spot for nearly five decades.

Finally, on Thursday, after writing all day about defying gravity, I really do feel as if I can fly.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

I note with interest that Paul is also on the porch, helping in the set up as well. He is dressed up in nice clothes … and based on what I observe I assume that Keith must have asked him to participate too. To my delight, I am fine with this. I am making huge strides in dropping all judgments and projections that have long held me hostage.

As the 10:00 a.m. starting time rapidly approaches, I am deeply surprised when Keith lovingly engages Paul in a firm conversation, reminding him that he was not invited to participate, asking him to leave.

Paul protests, indicating that the last he knew, that I was not invited either, and since I was there he assumed he could be there. Soon, Paul begrudgingly picks up his things and storms away with his head down. I can sense his confused and resentful anger.

Assumed Guilt

The private ceremony turns out to be small but very powerful. I have a delightful time holding a beautiful heart space, and am deeply connected to my heart power today. I feel quite bubbly and socially connected as well.

After this first beautiful ceremony ends at 1:15 p.m., I gobble down a couple of apples while quickly assisting in the setup for the normal public ceremony, which has been pushed back to begin at 2:00 p.m. in order to allow for two ceremonies in one day.

I continue to be in this same beautiful energy as the afternoon “Glow Meditation” gets underway. In fact, I am able to maintain that powerful energy of unconditional love throughout the ceremony, even while doing my own work.

But as I sit quietly during the “Glow Meditation”, I unexpectedly feel strong pains in my solar plexus. Intuitively I know I am physically feeling Paul’s anger. It is easy to observe that Paul remains in the same emotional state that caused him to storm off Keith’s porch earlier this morning, and I feel indirectly involved in the middle of that anger.

“Paul is angry that I was invited and that he was not.” I begin to ponder. “In a strange way, I feel as if he blames me for that fact. Even more bizarre is that I feel a sense of guilt and responsibility for his anger … and yet I had nothing to do with it. I would have been fine either way.”

Empathic Dilemmas

As I ponder deeper into this confusion, I recognize an old lifelong pattern of feeling horrible about perceived conflict in others – especially when I know that they indirectly and/or incorrectly blame me for their suffering. Such realization has always devastated me.

Even when I know I am not responsible, I still feel their pain, and I feel as if I should have – or somehow could have – prevented them from feeling the pain. It has always broken my heart to be around such situations where I insanely blamed myself for the suffering of another. It is now quite clear to me that I feel this pain because I am an empath – and because I have always been unable to fully distinguish my own personal emotions from the emotions that I unknowingly inhale from others.

As I sit in meditation, while still being quite connected to the love in my heart, a strong and painful emotional knot physically forms behind my belly button. The pain is so sharp that it literally feels as if someone kicked me there. I cannot explain how I know … but I know that what I am feeling is coming from Paul.

Eating Versus Reading

When Keith begins to work with individuals, he first turns to me. I feel deeply handicapped in my ability to communicate, because it feels inappropriate to discuss actual circumstances in an explicit way.

“I feel as if I am absorbing the emotions of others,” I explain generically to Keith.” These emotions are related to conflict and anger. I am taking them inside of me … yet I am not attached to the emotions … not identifying with them. I am in a very good place while remaining the observer. I feel the pain quite deeply, but I know it is not my responsibility.”

“Brenda, you are not eating that emotion,” Keith surprises me. “You are just reading it, feeling it in your body without storing it inside.”

“You’re right,” I respond with a smile. “My heart is not shut down. In fact it remains quite loving and powerful.”

“Remember to pay close attention to your heart,” Keith reminds me. “If your heart is shutting down, then you are eating the emotion. If it remains open, you are simply reading it.”

Grounding Group Emotions

“Brenda is what I call a ground,” Keith then unexpectedly begins to explain to the others.

Keith clarifies by sharing that I work with group energy … that right now I am connected to the whole group … and that I am like a lightning rod, often being the path of least resistance for other peoples’ energy when they do not want to deal with it themselves.

“She is starting to understand this and to be more powerful with it.” Keith continues talking about me to the group.

“I want everyone here to consciously stop releasing any of their negative emotions.” Keith guides an unexpected experiment.

“Brenda,” Keith asks a few minutes later. “How do you feel now?”

“It is amazing,” I respond with a smile. My solar plexus has totally stopped hurting. This is powerful. Is this why I have cried so much at so many ceremonies?”

“Sometimes, but not always,” Keith answers in the mostly affirmative.

“Yeah, I know that most of my tears have been my own stuff,” I brainstorm with Keith. “But it is also becoming increasingly clear that my own stuff is often deeply triggered when I empathically feel the emotions of others. When that happens, I find my version of their issue inside of me, and work on it in myself.”

An Eye-Opening Energetic Empath Experiment

“Brenda,” Keith takes me deeper. “Go inside and notice the fingers of energy that leave your heart and connect to everyone here.”

“Yeah,” I respond. “I don’t feel them physically, but I sense their presence. I cannot say how, but I know that I am connected to everyone here.”

At this point, Keith guides me deeper and deeper into understanding the dynamics of how I use my energy to work with a group. It is all so new to me that I still find the realization quite confusing.

Soon, Keith continues the energetic empath experiment.

“I want everyone to begin allowing their emotional density to flow again.” Keith guides the others.

Gradually, I feel more and more pains begin to swell in my solar plexus. After about five minutes, I literally feel as if I had been kicked in my belly button.

The entire experiment proves to be very eye opening.

Slowly-But-Surely

As Keith gradually continues to work his way around the porch, I maintain a powerful connection with everyone in the group. Again, I cannot say how I know … I just intuitively know it.

Without moving from my seat, I repeatedly participate as an empath in the emotional release process of others … doing so from across the porch. At other times, I simply observe as Keith engages others in beautiful work while imagining a heart connection joining my heart to theirs.

In many ways this feels like childish imagination – yet I know that imagination is real magic – and I do continue to observe mild emotional feelings coming and going, as if they are flowing through me. My head is alive with energy, and my third-eye chakra occasionally pulses with pain, which I intuitively interpret as continued resistance to further opening. In fact, I believe that most of the metaphorical pains I feel today are resistance to what is slowly-but-surely starting to open … in baby steps.

Droplets Of Love

Eventually, when Keith does an empath training with the group, I remain deep in my own meditation – one in which I am focusing on attempting to allow myself to bring in more self-love.

I visualize myself as a love-starved baby and toddler … terrified of love … yet beginning to receive that love. As I do so, I begin to lightly cry and whimper … but the tears are more from joy than they are from fear. I am actually getting tiny glimpses of pure unconditional love.

After a while, I begin to visualize myself as a confused teenage boy, in various stages of dress. When I do so, the level of my emotions intensifies greatly, switching much more into the fearful side. I am deeply afraid of the love … feeling evil and undeserving of the love … knowing that the love will judge and condemn me … knowing that the love will manipulate and control me. But even so, I feel this frightened teenager reluctantly receiving very tiny glimpses of that pure unconditional love.

I notice that I am unable to visualize where the love is coming from. I attempt to imagine myself as walking into that brilliantly glowing room where my divine circle of friends hang out … but I cannot do it. The thought remains overwhelming and impossible. Nevertheless, little droplets of love continue to find their way through the cracks in my thick wall.

As the empath training ends, Keith feels guided to quickly check in with me. When I let him know that I am just focusing on bringing in lots of love, he deeply congratulates me on how my energy feels.

A Basket Of Love

In a different twist of events, Keith then guides everyone into a meditation where they visualize a basket in front of them.

“In the basket,” Keith tells us, “you will find a gift from your Higher Self.”

To my delight, as I imagine a basket sitting in my lap, I am gifted by an unexpected visual of my little heart seed – the same one that fell out of the sky and landed in my hand as I walked down the street in Panajachel on the morning after Christmas – a morning in which I was emotionally struggling. (See blog, A Dragon Quest, Part 3, published February 1, 2012.)

“My gift from Higher Self is self-love for my child … and from my child.” I ponder with tears in my eyes. “It is beautiful love, just for me.”

I bask and glow in this love for the remainder of this beautiful ceremony.

Reading The Book

“Brenda,” Keith congratulates me after ceremony. “You were very low-key today … but you did some powerful work.”

“Yeah, I know that,” I respond with a smile. “Do you have thirty seconds to walk with me out to the gate?”

Paul remains on the porch, and I do not want to talk in front of him. As Keith and I stand by the gate, I quickly share details of my experience at the start of the ceremony, how I know that I was painfully reading Paul’s anger, how I was actually feeling quite guilty for feelings of conflict and confrontation in which I played no contributing role.

Keith validates that I was indeed entering an old childhood loop of feeling responsible for the emotions of others.

“But you didn’t eat any of that density,” Keith again congratulates me. “You were aware of what you were doing, and you were just reading the emotions, not attaching to them as being your now.”

“I’m really starting to get it.” I respond as I give Keith a quick hug before beginning to walk up the steep hill above his home.

Heart Grace

As I ponder before bed, I am glowing in new feelings and understandings. I’m really loving the self-love that is beginning to blossom in my heart. This budding sense of Divine Love is so peaceful. I know that my protective wall remains tall and thick (but partially crumbling), and that I am still in the early stages of allowing such love into my heart … but I glow with the awareness that I am on the right path. I know it … and I increasingly believe that as I allow this love to fill me that it will transmute more and more of the inner density for me without my having to slog through every single dense emotion on my own, doing it the hard way.

Several times as I meditated during the final hour of the ceremony today, I was intuitively taken back to memories of an incredible special experience that happened on Valentines Day, 2011 (documented in “Heart Magic”, published March 9, 2011). As I ponder that experience, I now realize that the incredible power that had filled my heart on that amazing day was a gift of Divine grace – a gift showing me where I am headed – showing me the potential power and capacity of my heart that will return once I clear out all of the blockages that keep me separated from that power.

After that Valentines Day experience, the amazing power had endured for several days before subsiding to a level to which I was accustomed. Every once in a while I have again glimpsed the magic of which my heart is capable.

“It is not my rational mind … or work … that will take me back to that power.” I ponder on my pillow. “It is all about allowing the self-love and Divine-love to take me there as I follow the flow, one step at a time … not doing … but being, allowing, and trusting this process to continue unfolding … just like it did today.”

Magical Mornings

Thursday morning, as I busily write “A Synchronous Powerful Flow”, my magical winged friend – my favorite little brown sparrow – returns for a visit. For a couple of minutes the brave little explorer checks out my kitchen and bedroom, looking for hidden treasures before returning to the great outdoors.

Friday morning, the magic continues as I devour three additional chapters of the book “Oneness” by Rasha. Every word seems to resonate deeply, profoundly inspiring me in my inner-work path.

But the highlight of the magical morning is a visit from my dear friend Conny – a friend that I first met while spending three months in Valladolid, Yucatan, Mexico, while recovering from a severe third-degree burn on my left foot. During the month of December 2009, she had inspired me to have the courage and confidence to travel further south into Central America – even giving me her Lonely Planet guidebook as a heart-felt Christmas gift.

And I had mutually inspired her to find the courage to further follow her own heart. It was not long after flying back to Germany that Conny decided to return to Mexico to see where her heart would take her. To my delight, on the weekend of my birthday, Conny has unexpectedly shown up at Lake Atitlan. She needed to leave Mexico for a six-month visa renewal, and I am delighted that Lake Atitlan is her out-of-Mexico destination of choice. We spend two delightful hours in catch-up conversation before we part ways so that I can spend Friday afternoon journeying with chocolate. I cannot wait until she returns tomorrow to help me celebrate my birthday.

Intuitive Confirmations

Early during the “Glow Meditation”, I begin to feel a great deal of solar plexus pain, but my heart remains open and flowing with power.

“I feel strong intuitions that I am again reading the emotions of others.” I interrupt Keith at an appropriate moment, hoping to confirm my feelings.

“Yes you are,” Keith confirms my inner guidance, helping me to trust myself further.

When I thank Keith for the feedback, he surprises me with even more clarity.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “there is really strong solar plexus pain here on the porch today. It is from several people, not just one person.”

A few minutes later, as I focus on assisting others to move this painful emotion, Keith interrupts the silence again.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you are entering a new level of working with your empath abilities. You are connected to lots of people … assisting with their densities … while simultaneously bringing in Higher Energies to share with them. Can you feel that?”

“I cannot feel it physically,” I respond to Keith, “but I intuitively know that I am doing it.”

Hidden Awareness

Early in the ceremony, I work with one man, assisting in his release work. I follow intuitions, and feel as if I am really helping him, but rational mind continues to get in the way, bringing up doubts and telling me that I do not have a clue what I am really doing.

After sitting back on my pillow, I begin to hold-space for the group, again opening my heart and imagining a magical connection to everyone on the porch. A couple of times, as I experience unusual pains in my body, I check with Keith to validate that I am reading someone else’s energy. Each time, he confirms my perception. I am starting to increasingly trust myself … but feel somewhat frustrated that my sense of knowing is not more concrete … and that I continue to doubt myself.

Again, during another empath training (which is happening a lot lately), I let my fears get the best of me, and I mostly disconnect. Something inside of me continues to be quite freaked out by the thought of bringing these energetic abilities to more conscious awareness. Nonetheless, I do participate a little bit, and while my sensitivities are minimal, I find a new level of self-trust as I practice “faking it till I make it”.

Detached Observation

In the meantime, I begin to observe Paul as he engages in behavior that once triggered me quite deeply.

“I’m aware of things.” Keith speaks quietly when I briefly glance in his direction a few minutes later.

I silently giggle inside. I am delighted that I am able to watch what I now see as innocent distorted behavior from a state of complete detachment, totally trusting that all is well – totally trusting Keith’s guidance.

My Triggers, My Issue

Soon, however, I observe behaviors that do deeply bother me. I do my best to remain unattached and in a non-judgmental state – but it seems that no matter how many projections I heal, that Paul has a way of triggering me ever deeper – challenging me to continually delve further into my own inner journey.

As I observe with attempted non-attachment, my lower abdomen fills with sharp pains on either side of the belly button. In fact, these areas quickly become very painful to the touch. Then sharp energetic jabs begin to poke me in the centerline of my lower abdomen. The pokes are random and very painful. I know that what I am witnessing is triggering great energetic unrest in my second chakra.

I will not share details here in my writing – and Keith never does answer concerns that I express to him in a follow-up email. As much as I desperately want and think that I need Keith’s validation, I get the intuitive message to back off – that my triggers are my issue – that this is a reality that I have created for my own growth – and that nothing will change until I do.

Stuck And Disconnected

At an appropriate moment, I eventually ask Keith for guidance regarding the pains in my lower abdomen.

“Connect to the pains,” Keith guides me. “Go sit with them and ask them what they are about.”

“I think this is related to what is happening on the porch,” I respond in a state of deep stuck-ness. “But I don’t feel comfortable talking about it openly. I am really stuck and disconnected right now.”

After calmly asking a few people to rejoin a space of holding energy for the group, Keith returns to work with me. The situation that was bothering me is now resolved.

“Congratulations on being profoundly stuck.” Keith shocks me. “This is right where you need to be for your understanding.”

Feel And Allow

As I sink deeper into observing my pains, I soon get the strong intuitive feeling that I am a two or three year old child – and that these pains belong to my stuck child – a child with no self-trust – a child filled with doubts about trusting my heart. Whenever I tried to follow my heart, it got me in trouble. I was deeply puzzled by the unexpected reactions of my parents.

“I am in a state of being totally stuck, and not understanding the reactions of those around me.” I express to Keith. “I am unable to do anything without getting in trouble, and it hurts.”

After Keith congratulates me for my unfolding understanding, I ask for guidance, asking if I should just sit with these pains in a state of non-attachment.

“Brenda,” Keith responds. “You are stuck in your head, trying to figure out this process with rational mind. Just trust your process … you cannot figure it out … just feel and allow.”

Lost In Frustration

As Keith moves on, I notice that a young woman who is on the porch for her first time (I will call her Mary) is looking at me while appearing to be sending energy in my direction. I feel appreciation for her gesture, but sense no energy flow except for the sharp pains in my belly.

I begin to imagine myself floating downstream in a raft, just trusting the flow … but this does not help much. Finally, I begin to sense a nice influx of energy in my crown, but the pains in my abdomen continue to ache strongly.

Remaining mostly unattached to these pains, I continue to allow and observe the unfolding events, trusting that I do not need to understand – trusting that I do not need to push – trusting that whatever needs to happen will just happen.

After a while, Keith and I again chat for a few minutes. My trust and self-confidence are waning.

“I am stuck, not going anywhere,” I express with frustration. “I am overflowing with resistance and feel as if I am wasting my time.”

Keith calmly reassures me that I do not need to know what is happening, that my process really is moving and going somewhere, and that I am not wasting my time. But even with Keith’s loving words, I am on the edge of just going home for the day.

A Motherly Embrace

Meanwhile, as I talk to Keith, Mary moves over to occupy an empty cushion on my left.

“Can I hold you?” Mary asks me with beautiful intentions.

“Please no,” I start to push her away.

I cannot possibly see how this could take me anywhere productive. I want to reject her loving offer because it feels so much like fixing energy. While I interpret her intention as genuine and pure … it seems as if she just sees my sadness and wants to hold me to make it all better.

“Brenda,” Keith shocks me with his encouragement. “Why don’t you allow it?”

Soon I lean to my left and allow Mary to wrap her right arm around me … which she quickly uses to pull me into her embrace. Before I know what happens, my left ear is glued to her upper chest. She holds me so tightly that I can hear the soft rhythmic beating of her beautiful warm heart.

As I surrender to this comforting motherly embrace, with her arms holding me tight, I sink into the state of being a love-starved little child … and I begin to cry deeply.

Feeling Guilty

“Brenda,” Keith lovingly encourages, “this is exactly what you need. Allow yourself to receive this love. She is absolutely overflowing with it.”

Soon, my crying turns into sobs – waves of gut-wrenching sobs that go up and down like the waves of the ocean. I cry and sob … sob and cry … cry and sob … seemingly forever.

Keith occasionally checks in with me, lightly touching my right leg to offer support, while encouraging me to allow, telling me that I am doing great.

“Are you sure I’m not hurting your arm?” I ask Mary after about ten minutes, feeling guilty for all of the attention I am getting.

“I’m fine,” She reassures me.

After another ten minutes of crying and sobbing, I ask the same question.

“I’m fine,” Mary again lets me know that this awkward hugging position is not a problem.

Hurtful Conditional Colorations

“Brenda,” Keith chimes in, “allow the love in.”

“Keith,” I respond through my whimpers, “I’m a love-starved little child.”

“No, Brenda,” Keith responds. “You are not just love-starved … you are love-resistant. You will not allow it in.”

As I hear Keith’s words, I resume sobbing and crying in waves. Keith encourages me through layer after layer of these deep emotions, often predicting when the next wave will hit even before I feel it.

“Keith,” I begin to share what is going on with me, “I have no memory of ever receiving such love at any time in my life … not even from my mother, except for a few random hugs that were probably at around age three or four.”

“You had this love, Brenda,” Keith reassures me, “but it just came with conditions.”

I know Keith is right. I know my mother loved me deeply. But her love was so colored by conditions, judgment, manipulation, and control (well intentioned, all of them) that her love hurt me deeply.

“Are you sure that your arm is OK?” I again check in with Mary.

Terrified Of Love

“And then,” I continue my rambling, “when I reached around age eleven, I hated myself with such self-despising passion, that I built the walls taller and thicker. I was terrified of allowing in the love, because if people got close they would discover what an evil and defective person I was – and they would surely reject and abandon me.”

“I was terrified of such love,” I keep pondering aloud. “In my marriage, I kept those huge walls. I never spent any time alone with my parents … and I never let anyone near the inner chambers of my true heart. I remained at the surface, desperately maintaining my distance to protect my evil secrets.”

In my thirties, when I began to open my heart to explore my gender struggles, I immediately encountered the long-feared rejection, which hurt deeply, so I put the walls up again, even stronger.

“I have never allowed this love,” I express to Keith with newfound understanding.

Barely Allowing

“Brenda, another layer,” Keith tells me that more emotions are coming. “Allow it … allow more love to come in.”

As I surrender to this next wave of emotion, I am astounded by the intensity. I am soon engulfed in deep agonizing wails and screeches of pain and aguish. Deep sobs consume me as dry-heaves and more screeching wails force their way out of my throat.

I am shocked by the pain of how love-starved … how craving of this love that I am. I feel so safe and warm being held in Mary’s arms. I could remain here all day were it not for the painful pulsing in my sleeping leg and foot. When I mention my pain, Mary admits that her leg is also asleep. We quickly take a two-minute break to shift positions.

But bless her heart, as soon as we are comfortable, Mary again grabs hold of me and pulls me into her motherly embrace.

Mary’s heartbeat is so comforting. I begin to imagine her as my own mother’s pure Higher Essence … loving me unconditionally, without any conditional distortions coloring it. I love the warmth … I love the love that I am able to allow to flow into me … but I feel as if I am only allowing a small part of this love to actually get in.

“Most is being pushed away,” Keith confirms my suspicion when I ask for feedback.

“Yes, you are still resisting,” Keith again reassures me a few minutes later, “but some love is getting through … and Mary is overflowing with plenty, with much more than you are able to allow in.”

A Frightened Puppy

“Brenda,” Keith eventually interrupts, “I’m guided to tell you that about 40% of the love you are now bringing in is not coming from Mary … you are bringing it in directly … you have your direct connection flowing.”

“Keith,” I mention a video link that I recently shared, “I’m being guided to remember that frightened love-starved dog at the pound … the one that just desperately needed to be held and loved. I AM that frightened dog … starved for love that I can’t let in.”

Finally, at around 6:30 p.m., after most people have left, I sit up in shock. It must be at least two hours since Mary first began holding me.

Still in a daze, I graciously thank Mary for an experience that continues to have me amazed and blown away. Several of the few people remaining on the porch come over to hug me.

“I knew the first time that I saw you that this was going to happen,” One woman shares with me. “I am so grateful that I got to be here to witness it.”

Trust The Process

“Congratulations for the beautiful work today.” Keith shares when I step into his kitchen to give him a quick goodbye hug.

“Keith,” I express with shock, “I feel like it is the Sahara Desert in there … my heart is still dry and craving love … and it feels like I continue to maintain castle walls surrounding the whole desert. It seems that I am still fighting it. I desperately want this love, but something in me will not allow it.”

“Brenda,” Keith lovingly guides me, “this is to powerfully show you how you can want something so bad, and yet your resistance can be amazingly powerful in fighting it. It is a part of your education.”

“What you did today was perfect,” Keith reassures me when I express fears about some type of emotional backlash that always seems to follow such major forward advances.

“What happens next is anyone’s guess,” Keith continues. “But whatever that is, it will be perfect too. You might have a major rejection, rebellion, or revolt inside that fights back in some way as you have had other times when you brought in love. You might be able to bring in more love. Trust whatever happens and do not attach to it, judge it, or resist it. It is all part of your process … and it is beautiful.”

Grateful Goodbyes

When I step back onto the porch to hug and thank Mary, she is occupied as Paul does a little energy work on her headache. I know Mary is leaving tomorrow … but I feel awkward, not wanting to interrupt, and I am anxious to go home to integrate … so I send my gratitude energetically and begin the short walk home in the dark.

As I reach the center of town, I am craving French fries, and I just happen to have a little money in my bag (I rarely carry money at night). To my delight, as I wait for the street vendor to fill a small plastic bag with yummy-but-oily fries, Mary finds me. She is just as excited as I am for the opportunity to say goodbye.

“Thank you so much,” I express my deep gratitude. “You are amazing. You have no idea how much you helped me today.”

“I had no idea how love-starved I was, and still am.” I tell her as I quickly fill her in on my Sahara Desert metaphor – a huge dry heart with castle walls around it.

“Well, my love is like rain,” Mary smiles.

“Wow, I love that,” I giggle back to her. “Castle walls could never keep out the rain.”

Beginning Stages Of Revolt

As I prepare for bed at 8:30 p.m., all I have eaten are French fries. I know what happened today was profound … and I know that I have no idea what will happen next. I am not attached, and feel determined to simply trust the flow of my process … whether the next step seems to be up or down.

As I rest on my pillow, a tight knot behind my belly button tells me something in my abdomen is quite unhappy. My heart feels somewhat shutdown, and I intuitively sense some type of major emotional rebellion forming in its beginning stages.

I will just trust and observe, being willing to go wherever events might lead me.

Love Is A Collar

Early Saturday morning, March 10, 2012, I am awake several times with crazy dreams. The details are not important, other than that the dreams give me the profound understanding of another reason why I hated love. It seems that I also have “love” hooked together with “loss of privacy”.

As I further ponder this forgotten theme of my life, it seems that being surrounded by love always meant being watched, followed, judged, and controlled. There were only rare occasions when love did not feel like a collar around my neck. Even when I spent time alone, I felt an obligation to explain and defend what I had done during that alone time.

As a result, both as a teen, and as an adult, I felt hard pressed to explore my confusing struggles. If I did spend time alone to try to figure myself out, I would have to account for that time later … and I would have to either lie about my actions or face stiff judgment, rejection, and abandonment by the ones I loved. Neither was a pleasant option.

Birthday Therapy

As I sit browsing Facebook on Saturday morning, I am extremely moody. It is my birthday and I am suddenly feeling quite lonely.

I have received beautiful birthday wishes from many friends and family members … but nothing dents the unexpected and inexplicable loneliness. I know it is related to the events of yesterday.

As I ponder what might be going on, I finally realize that I have torn down part of the walls that kept me strong … the wall that kept out love also kept out the vulnerability and the possibility of getting hurt. With this wall further disintegrating I am feeling the increased vulnerability … yet since I am not yet fully allowing in self-love or love from Source, that vulnerability is demanding my full emotional attention.

Finally, Conny arrives to spend my birthday with me. When she greats me with a hug and asks how I am doing, I am shocked as I begin to cry. We talk and talk for the next couple of hours. She plays therapist and gives me a beautiful listening ear. By the time we are done, I feel much better … but exhausted.

A New (Same) Look

It has been a very long time since I spent a day simply playing with a friend, and Conny gives me the perfect excuse.

Soon we are on a small public lancha, taking a boat ride over to nearby San Pedro. The lake is extra bumpy today, due to windy conditions. As we walk up a steep hill leading to the center of San Pedro, we pass a small beauty salon operated by a local Mayan woman.

“It has been thirteen months since I had a haircut,” I casually mention to Conny. “I have cut my own bangs many times, but the last time someone cut the rest of my hair was in February, 2011.”

“Brenda,” Conny insists. “Come with me right now. We are getting you a haircut. It is your birthday and it will make you feel better.”

I resist, but finally give in when Conny does not take no for an answer. She marches me inside, and takes care of all the arrangements … except the cutting itself. Fifteen minutes later we are all done. The front is only an inch or two shorter; while the back (which was several inches longer) is now even and free from straggly ends that often got snarled and tangled in my hairbrush.

I do not look much different, but my hair feels so much better – and it only cost me about $3.25 (US) plus tip.

Birthday Fun

After strolling around town, visiting over lunch, and buying a peanut butter square at the local health-food store, Conny and I again find ourselves on a small boat headed back to San Marcos. This one is even bumpier than the first. We are being drenched by spray from every bump until someone gets out a large plastic tarp to partially block the persistent wind-blown shower.

Later that evening, Conny and I walk out to Keith’s house to see if he would like to join us in conversation over a meal and dessert. I love my pizza and large piece of chocolate cake.

By 9:30 p.m., I am exhausted as I eagerly return to my cozy pillow. It has turned out to be a very fun birthday.

Tale Of Three Birthdays

It is hard to fathom that I am in the final months of almost three years of travel. I spent my first amazing birthday away from home in a tiny Mayan village in southern Belize. And now, I have spent these last two birthdays nestled in a small Mayan town along the shores of a beautiful lake in Guatemala – a lake surrounded by Mayan villages and three scenic towering volcanoes.

It is equally hard to believe that I have spent nearly half of those three years engaging in deep, sometimes agonizing emotional inner work. (Actually, the other half involved a great deal of self-directed inner work as well.) So many times I have been close to giving up in this often-difficult quest to “know myself” – but time and time again events have passionately shown me that I am exactly where I belong, doing exactly what I need to be doing at this stage of my now-adventurous life.

A Birthday Boat Ride

These last four days have been a powerful reinforcement that I am indeed on the right path. I have continued to chip away at my doubts and inner blockages, gradually opening up my energetic sensitivities, and learning to trust how I work as an empath … even when I cannot yet fully feel what I am doing.

But the most profound realizations have come in recognizing how much I crave pure unconditional love, and how strongly I simultaneously block myself from receiving it. It makes no sense to a love-starved mind, but hidden parts of me remain quite terrified of love – the conditional kind – the kind that feels like a controlling collar around my neck.

Because of this fear of conditional love, I have dried up, becoming a moisture-starved Sahara Desert surrounded by protective castle walls. The very unconditionally loving moisture I crave surrounds me … is right here … everywhere … and has always been there … directly available from Source if only I can allow.

As I think about the birthday boat ride from San Pedro to San Marcos, just a few hours ago, a new metaphor comes to mind. The windblown spray drenching us on that bumpy lancha is just like that readily available unconditional love, but in my fear and craziness, I would rather hide behind a protective tarp to stay as dry as possible.

“What if my hair and clothes get drenched and I have to wash them? And even worse, Heaven forbid if there is something dirty (colored by conditional love) in that water! How horrible would that be?”

So in my fears of getting drenched by loving waters … fears of having my energetic clothes and hair polluted in some way … I would rather protect myself from all love … unconditional and conditional … and instead simply hide behind a tarp.

I want to be a child again. I am tired of being a water-starved desert. I want to drop these protective defenses and play in the spray.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

As I sit on Keith’s porch for the Friday afternoon ceremony, I am in total surrender, simply flowing with my process, prepared to go wherever intuitions and guidance may take me. Even before starting the “Glow Meditation”, Keith begins to work with a friend of mine – a friend who struggles with being there for her very magical little daughter. This work deeply triggers my own inner issues – issues with my own magical inner child – launching me with full force, right into my own process.

Metaphorical Bread Crumbs

Intuitive guidance takes me right back to where I left off with Keith yesterday – returning to the intense sadness of a tiny child who was giving up on life – beginning to again sense the inaccessible rage that hides just beneath the surface of the sadness.

Pains soon begin to form in my upper left abdomen, in the area of my pancreas.

“The pancreas is associated with insulin and the processing of sweetness.” I begin to ponder. “This metaphor is showing me that as a tiny child, I felt no sweetness for life … and that I struggled to find the joy and happiness.”

Other pains come and go, both in my abdomen and heart regions. An interesting pattern forms. All of these pains are on the left side of my body – on the feminine side. Then, I even feel aches pulsing in my right brain regions (also the feminine side).

“My feminine side was sad, angry, and profoundly suppressed at a very young age.” I cry mildly as I meditate through these metaphorical breadcrumbs.

As these emotions surface, I feel them deeply, but through it all I remain connected to peaceful loving energies.

I also note that I am suddenly beginning to be overwhelmed with more of that swirling head confusion – the feeling of my third-eye energies being stuck in the mud.

Alien Allegories

“Remember to take the light with you.” Keith briefly interrupts the glow meditation as he speaks to me.

“I think I am doing that.” I respond through my mild tears. “I invited the light and am remaining unidentified and not-attached to the pain. I am feeling it, crying through it, but not getting lost in it.”

“Good,” Keith congratulates me, “keep going.”

Immediately after the glow meditation, Keith returns to working with my friend. I watch with keen interest as he explains to her how she was a magical little girl, born into an alien world that was not yet ready for her magic – that she chose to be born in those circumstances so that she could be the age she is now at this time in the planetary shift.

All of these are things I also know to be true about me – Keith and I have discussed them several times. As Keith continues working with my friend, he points out how, as a child, no one understood her, she did not fit in or belong to that shut-down world, not relating to parents or siblings, feeling as if she herself were the alien.

A Place To Die

As I listen to this beautiful metaphorical description of what is also my own childhood emotion, I finally begin to access that intense reservoir of hidden rage. I begin to feel the intense putrid anger quite deeply as I ponder how I too was an alien, a genuine magical child, made wrong at every turn … and how everything I did from my pure and loving heart was rejected and turned upside-down by adults in such crazy-making and confusing ways. I ponder the emotions I felt when I, as that tiny innocent child, was subjected to such an invalidating and foreign state of powerlessness.

As I cry in a subdued manner, I continue to focus on the light while allowing myself to sink deeper into the rage, intentionally using that emotion as leverage to push through the intense complacency that continues to trap me in this powerlessness, even today. While engaged in this process, I again start to see myself in that cold, dark, dank, rancid, moldy, humid, putrid cave-like room – a room devoid of all love.

I soon imagine myself propping the door open with a stick, allowing a tiny breeze of love to flow into this hopeless place. As I do so, I focus on bringing in divine love from Mother Earth, and soon feel mild-but-minimal tingles flowing through my body. Intuitively, I feel the breeze in this dark room beginning to make a slight difference. The increased light energy triggers more of the rage – and I begin to feel even more intense anger at having felt stuck in this lonely room with no way out.

As the emotions flow, I literally return to the state I was in yesterday after an almost sleepless night – a state of hopelessness, self-loathing, giving up, knowing there is no way out, of wanting to die … of knowing that I will die here in this room.

A Blob Of Mush

When Keith eventually turns to work with me for the first time, I share details of my deep and profound meditative journey.

“Is your child, or any part of your child, in that room?” Keith surprises me by his question.

“Yes, I feel an aspect of my little child is still in this room.” I respond after a few minutes of deeply searching for a heart-felt answer.

“How does this child feel while you are bringing in this light and loving energy?” Keith continues his guidance.

“As I attempt to further connect, I’m again feeling that whimpering panic that is so familiar,” I respond.

“No, wait, I feel as if I am just talking from my head.” I interrupt Keith before he can continue. “Let me go in and actually connect with this child.”

“I think my child is numb and doesn’t care.” I finally share after a few minutes of meditation. “She is hopeless and powerless … she has given up … a blob of mush that is so numb that she simply does not care what happens anymore.”

Rotting In Hell

“This is where you were when you were shut down.” Keith validates my journey.

“Yeah,” I respond with recognition, “it is the same place where I was yesterday … a place of not wanting to live … of giving up.”

“Brenda,” Keith adds, “I’m getting another metaphor … comparing this state to being like you are ‘rotting in hell’.”

“That really rings true,” I respond, “and hell in my childhood religion is reserved for only the worst offenders … for murderers and adulterers. The emotions I feel are as if I am one of them … that I belong in hell. It is a hopeless place with no way out. I feel as if I am sentenced to be stuck here for eternity … with no hope for love or connection.”

Surrendering Control

As I try to imagine Higher Energies assisting me, I visualize myself taking my little inner child Sharon’s hand with my left hand, while reaching into the glowing room of my divine circle of friends with my right hand. I whimper and cry as I visualize myself being lifted up into more divine love. There is too much fear. I cannot seem to go there. Sharon remains in that dark, putrid room.

I soon imagine a tiny tunnel – a tiny channel being formed that connects my heart to the top of this dank and moldy room. I place a metaphorical door on this tunnel, attach a string to the door, and give that string to my inner child … telling Sharon that she can pull on this string whenever she wants to allow a little more love from my heart to trickle in, and that the door will automatically shut when she does not pull. I then lovingly tell Sharon that she is in control here … that she gets to decide when and if she allows this love … that I will not push her.

As I totally surrender control, I cry and whimper for a while as I feel more and more of the love-starved emotional agony. Meanwhile, I focus on something that I can do – I bring in peaceful energy from above, mostly through my crown. As I do so, much of the emotion begins to release. After a while, the agonizing emotions have completely vanished.

Continuing to surrender to the flow, I now observe that I am back in that swirling confusion of my third-eye chakra. Rather than resisting, I surrender to the swirling confusion, asking it to get bigger while I imagine a waterfall of liquid light flowing into my crown, through my third eye, and out my nose. The swirling goes on, and on, and on … with no apparent release in sight.

Water Torture

Soon, Keith checks in on my progress. When I share what I have been doing, he congratulates me.

“Do you have any suggestions for my process?” I ask, hoping for some magical guidance.

“No, you are doing great,” Keith responds, “just keep following the metaphors and see where they lead you.”

As I continue to sit with this swirling whirlwind of confusion energy, it soon switches into a thumping, ‘water torture’ feeling as light pulsing pressure and twitching repeatedly poke me at the top of my forehead, near the hairline, like heavy drops of water dripping constantly.

“Brenda,” Keith responds when I ask for more guidance. “See those twitches as something very positive that you need to allow and embrace.”

I release all judgments, allowing myself to see all of this crazy energy as positive. Even before, I was not resisting it, but now I fully encourage this energy to do whatever … to go wherever … while I fully surrender and just observe. As I do so, I experience a variety of shifting currents, and multiple forms of pulsing sensations.

The common denominator of all these energy pulses is that they give me that yes/no/yes/no/yes/no crazy-making feeling – the feeling that I am being energetically made-wrong, being mentally tortured, and driven crazy.

Balance And Surrender

Finally, a new idea intuitively pops into my awareness. I remember energy techniques that I learned during a sacred geometry class, while studying in a two-month healing course during the fall of 2010. These are techniques to calm and stabilize the energy flow in my head, balancing the pineal gland.

For five or ten minutes, I flow energy through my hands while using my hands to balance various energy channels in my head, each of which intersects at the center of my brain. As the energies in my head begin to calm, I shift my focus onto imagining a flow of energy that runs from crown to toes – using my imagination to connect my chakras.

As I engage in this energy balancing focus, the confusing energies in my third-eye chakra mostly fade. Soon, I sink deeper into surrendering to the flow of Higher Energies, having no rational-mind agenda.

“How are you doing, Brenda?” Keith eventually checks in with me again.

“I’m doing great.” I peacefully respond.

“Surrender and allow this energy to flow.” Keith guides me.

Squeemy

Eventually, intuitions guide me to relax my forearms as a part of this surrender and allow process. For the next ninety minutes, I focus all attention onto watching and observing the crazy fearful journey unfolding in my arms. In fact, the more I attempt to relax them, my forearms literally feel as they are going crazy with resistance and fear.

“Keith,” I explain after sharing my journey, “this is not just an energy of pain in my arms … it seems to be an energy of intense distraction and confusion. It is so uncomfortable that it is trying to make me stop. But it is not my muscles that are painful … I somehow know that it is extremely agitated energy.”

“Great observation, Brenda,” Keith congratulates me.

What Keith shares next completely surprises me.

“I have coined a word for this state,” Keith shares with a smile. “I call it squeemy. It is a cross between squirming and screaming. I experienced it many times in my own process, and my teachers talked about it a lot.”

Cellular Release

“Keith,” I add with surprise at this unexpected validation. “It feels like there is extreme fear in my forearms … as if they are in a panicked red-alert state. Even my abdomen and heart are showing real physical signs of a mild panic attack as I continue relaxing. The sensation in my forearms is that this is a matter of energetic life or death.”

“This is your body consciousness telling you that this IS a matter of life or death.” Keith responds. “Your body is telling you not to allow this to happen.”

“I have repeatedly tried to relax these forearms many, many times in the past,” I share new insights. “But I always quit because of this pain-and-panic feeling that overwhelms me when I try. Now, today I am not attached or identified with it … just watching it.”

“This is actual fear being released at the cellular level without mind involvement.” Keith shares with me multiple times during this enlightening conversation. “This is how it feels to release emotion without involving rational mind.”

I love how Keith continues to grin when he uses the word ‘squeemy’ over and over.

Roaming Squeemys

“Wow,” I repeat my amazement, “I have felt this many times, but I always stopped it because it was so confusing and crazy-making … as if there were an inner desperation to abort what I was doing … a distracting, panic-filled, absolute mandate to stop.”

“Keith,” I add quickly, “this feels a lot like that crazy-making swirling confusion energy in my head … only it is in my arms. This energy is extremely desperate to confuse me and to stop me from releasing this blockage. Is it possible that my swirls of confusion energy in my head were this same squeemy sensation?”

“Yes, that is a possibility.” Keith acknowledges.

To my surprise, as I continue relaxing, observing, and allowing, the ‘squeemy’ feeling gradually spreads at what I would describe as a snail’s pace. It first spreads from the center of my forearms all the way up until it consumes my elbows. Then it begins to spread downward toward my wrists while slowly receding from the elbows.

After about an hour of non-stop observation, the squeemy feeling is now sharply focused from about two-inches above my wrists, down through my palms, and all the way to the fingertips. I love how these sensations are moving around, confidently showing me that this is real energy movement and actual cellular emotional release. If the crazy pains remained static, in one place, it would be easy to rationalize that it was merely a physical muscular pain.

Intuitively, I absolutely know that this forearm clenching is deeply related to lifelong subconscious attempts to prevent the flow of Higher Energies through my body.

Giggling Trust

After a beautiful and fascinating squeemy journey with Keith as my guide, attention soon focuses elsewhere on the porch.

Near the end of the ceremony, a well-known author stops by the porch for a quick chat with Keith. She is in town teaching a writer’s workshop. At an appropriate moment, I make eye contact and remind her that I met her a year ago, and that I would love to buy her a meal sometime, just to chat. I totally understand when she replies that she would love to get together, but that she is too busy this time around. She adds that she will be back in San Marcos later this year, and that she would love to talk then.

“You’re a writer, aren’t you?” She then asks me.

“I’m not published,” I respond, “but I am working on my travel memoirs in blog form right now.”

“You are VERY published.” Keith emphasizes with a smile as he publicly compliments my writing.

I love this brief exchange, and totally look forward to whatever future interactions the flow of my being may bring. I giggle inside, because I am in a confident place of inner trust, knowing that if I need assistance from someone such as an established author, that it will just happen – that I do not need to force anything. The only thing I need to do right now is continue passionately engaging in the guidance of my present journey. The rest will take care of itself.

Optimism Abounds

Friday evening, as I rest on my pillow, I notice that my lower back is flowing more delightful energy, and that my abdomen feels much softer than it has been in a very long time. I love how the gradual physical changes seem to validate and encourage what I am doing. On a day-to-day basis, it is often difficult to notice the changes … but if I look back a year, or even a month, I am aware of constant and impressive changes to my energy.

Saturday, March 3, is a lazy and peaceful day as write and publish “Happy, Peaceful, And Drained.” It is a long day of writing, one that does not end until shortly after 8:00 p.m. – but as usual, it is well worth it. It seems that every time I write about events in my recent past, the integration and growth are profound and powerful.

Sunday morning, I find myself alive and immersed in optimistic energy. After spending a morning reading from the “Oneness” book by Rasha, and listening to “Abraham” videos, I am overflowing with positive energy as I sit on a pillow, eagerly awaiting the unknown flow of yet-another, never-the-same, chocolate ceremony.

Flowing With Love

During the early parts of the ceremony, I hold space for others while experiencing a great deal of energy flow in my head. And then, of course, as I relax my arms, that extremely familiar squeemy sensation consumes my upper wrists and hands.

Throughout the “Glow Meditation”, I envision myself in a raft, drifting downstream in the flow of Higher Energies, feeling those energies flow through me, feeling a sensation of additional softening in my abdomen. I continue to be somewhat shut down, but for the first time in forever, I have no metaphorical pains in my belly – and I seem to be making great progress in allowing in more self-love.

Kicked In The Gut

At one point, a new man on the porch gets quite confrontational. He is confused by misunderstandings (a language translation issue), and is deeply stuck in his head. In extreme ways, I see him as a dramatic mirror of my frustration at desperately wanting recipes and instructions – insisting that I need an old Shamanic model where someone like Keith will fix me, rather than making me figure out the impossible for myself.

This man does not want to have to look inside at his own issues, and he refuses to listen. Instead, he repeatedly asks deeply frustrated questions – yet when Keith attempts to answer, the man goes into panic and resistance, refusing to listen to the responses. In many ways, he is throwing a confusion tantrum – again reminding me of how I must have looked to my parents when I went into a complete state of chaotic confusion over what they were trying to teach me as an alien child.

Eventually, after watching this confusing conflict for a while – repeatedly drawing parallels to my own journey – I begin to feel deeply triggered. I isolate and go inside as tears start to stream down my cheeks and my solar plexus swells up with inner pains. I literally feel as if I were kicked in the gut.

Regressing To Past Pain

“You either need to stop your drama or leave the porch.” Keith eventually makes a firm-but-loving ultimatum.

Repeatedly, the man begins to leave, and repeatedly Paul convinces him to stay. As I observe from a detached state, the conflict, drama, and chaos are increasingly triggering me. Keith momentarily turns to me and asks how I am doing, while reminding me to not identify and attach with these childhood emotions.

Gradually, I am able to return to beautiful energy in my upper chakras – but my abdomen continues to twitch painfully with that kicked-in-the-gut feeling. I attempt to remain not-identified and unattached to these emotions – but a part of me deeply identifies.

I know this is childhood emotion that needs to surface and flow through me, and as I give myself permission to cry, I also focus on bringing in the light and love. In fact, I bring in a great deal of light through my crown. I attempt to bring in energy through my lower chakras, but remain quite blocked to the Divine Mother.

My focus on the light seems to be softening and transmuting the intense energies in my abdomen. The peaceful vibrations of energy seem to be gradually dissolving the densities, and I actually feel a small flow as the energies leave me. By the time Keith begins to prepare the group for an empath training, I am almost peaceful again, even in my abdomen.

Conflict Triggers

But suddenly, the struggling man again flares up in frustrating and angry resistance. Keith soon shares another loving ultimatum … telling him he either needs to stop the drama or leave the porch. For a while, Keith plays ‘bad cop’ while Paul plays ‘good cop’. I find it extremely agonizing to observe the conflict as the man melts into frustrated tears. Yet the conflict continues, the man will not listen, and Keith finally shares his loving ultimatum again.

As the man starts to walk away, Keith interrupts with a beautiful idea.

“Why don’t you pretend that you left,” Keith suggests to the man, “and then come back onto the porch, sit quietly in your chair as if you were not here, and then just observe while saying nothing. If you can listen without talking, you might be able to learn from what I am going to show the others.”

By now, I am crying again. I pull a scarf over my head while mild muffled sobs express themselves through me. I cannot watch the unfolding events. They are triggering deep feelings of childhood conflict.

Empathic Conflict

“Keith,” I express when asked how I am doing, “I don’t remember this conflict with my parents … but the emotions tell me it is very real … that I had to fight to try to be heard and validated. It was an intense battle of conflicting wills, and I always came out the loser.”

“And I remember being terrified of my brother.” I add. “He saw his taunting me as innocent teasing, but I saw his behavior as attacking conflict. When he got angry at me, I panicked in terror … much like I am feeling right now. All of my life I have been terrified of conflict … I have avoided it like the plague … I have avoided even the thought or appearance of it.”

“Brenda,” Keith adds further insight, “even if the conflict was not openly expressed in your family when you were a child, you were an empath around a society of people who were not allowed to express their conflict. You would have literally felt that unexpressed conflict screaming at you energetically, even in a room full of people pretending to be happy and civil.”

“That makes so much sense based on the crazy emotions I am experiencing.” I respond with recognition.

Heavy Tingles And Moving Energy

The more I peel back my layers of resistance, the more I seem to sink into emotional terror at the start of each and every empath training. Today, I am in so much emotional pain as the training begins that I block it out and detach. Instead, I focus on the confusing journey with conflict that continues to cause tears to flow down my cheeks.

As I meditate on my own, I repeatedly go into painful emotional nightmares around the issue of conflict … experiencing deep childhood terror surrounding actual or potential confrontation. Rational mind cannot explain what I feel. Suffice it to say that right now an intense terror runs through me … agonizing fear of conflict … excruciating pain surrounding the powerless feeling of having to shut myself down because of being helplessly on the losing end of that conflict.

By the end of the empath training, I am much more stable. Most of the emotions have passed through me. I can only assume that I released them to the angels and that they have been transmuted. I still doubt my energy sensitivities, but I know that during this release process, I felt very heavy energy tingles in my hands and abdomen … and I know that this energy in my abdomen was somehow moving out of me.

Opposite Ends

As the ceremony fades, both Paul and I remain behind on the porch with Keith. Soon, Paul unexpectedly engages me in a conversation, asking me about the emotions I was feeling during part of his work where I was crying while he too was crying.

A pleasant conversation unfolds regarding our varying views of conflict. It soon becomes clear why the two of us are playing opposite ends of the same script. Paul seems to thrive on conflict. He enjoys pushing and getting angry at others, believing it to be a healthy form of speaking his truth and creating change. On the other hand, I feel deeply frightened and disempowered at even the thought of potential conflict. In the past, I rarely openly disagreed with people in my life, because of the fear that such disagreement would surely lead to conflict. Now, as I learn to courageously speak my own truth, I am learning to verbally express my true self … but doing so where potential conflict is involved continues to trigger me deeply.

“Brenda, just get your courage up and go into it when things happen.” Paul starts to give me advice about how to go into conflict.

Paul’s advice is the last thing I want to accept, because learning to embrace and eagerly go into conflict is the last thing I want to do. Instead, I want to journey deep inside to understand my fears and childhood issues surrounding conflict.

“Paul,” I respond, “thanks, but you are in your head, with head advice. What you are saying might be accurate for situational stuff where you need to face your fears, but I am wanting to go deeper into exploring subconscious patterns that cannot be handled in the mind.”

Perceived Misconception

Soon our conversation shifts into the area of pushing other people’s buttons and triggers.

“Keith has pointed out to me that I have ‘love’ and ‘button-pushing’ hooked together in some ways.” Paul expresses genuine insights.

“Yeah,” I try to explain. “I understand that you do that. I just want to say, that in my way of thinking, I would never enjoy any type of relationship with anyone who intentionally tried to push my buttons as a way to trigger my growth. That is definitely not my idea of fun, or of a loving relationship style that would work for me.”

“Pushing buttons is not a good way to trigger people into growth.” I attempt to explain to Paul.

“But that is the same thing that Keith does when he works with people.” Paul explains to me. “He connects with them and challenges them where they need to grow.”

“No, that is not at all what Keith does,” I begin a futile attempt to explain to Paul about his bizarre misconception.

Slammed For My Truth

“Brenda,” Keith abruptly and forcefully cuts me off. “You need to allow Paul to have his truth and quit trying to be right. Let him have his truth and you can have your own and I can have my own. This behavior of trying to be right has gotten you into trouble your whole life. As a healer, you can never function with trying to be right with clients. Just let it go.”

I feel deeply attacked by Keith’s confusing words. I know I am right. I know that Keith knows I am right. His words deeply stab me. I feel like a tiny child trying to explain a pure divine truth to my parents – a truth that I know deeply in my heart – yet I am being slammed by my parents, unable to feel validated, unable to be heard and understood … and desperately wanting to explain and defend the unjust and unfounded attack on me.

I feel as if Keith is telling me that Paul is right, and when I look over at Paul, I see that Paul believes the same thing. The smug look in his eyes tells me that he is delighted that Keith is validating him and slamming me.

I literally feel like a three-to-six year old child, sitting with my parents. Keith is playing my father and Paul is playing my mother. Both are now condescending and lecturing me. Keith’s tone is very authoritative and somewhat angry as he speaks in a lecturing tone. Several times, as I attempt to defend and explain myself, I actually tell Keith that he is unjustly lecturing, speaking to me as a little child.

“It doesn’t matter whether this situation is real or contrived,” Keith slams me some more. “This is a real and deep core issue that is coming up now because it is time to move it. You cannot be a healer if you have to be right about everything … if you cannot allow others to have their own version of the truth.”

Humiliated And Angry

“Keith,” I try to explain a new and sudden insight. “In most situations I have no problem allowing others to have their own truth. It is only in deeply personal situations, when trying to explain deep emotional issues of the heart that …”

Keith again cuts me off and lectures me for not listening.

“You do this with everything,” Keith insists. “You need to stop needing to be right.”

I feel horrible, like I am being unjustly reamed by my parents. It is a feeling that resonates as being deeply familiar – from childhood, during my marriage, with children, and in an occasional friendship.

“Remember how your extended family member and a former friend slammed you on Facebook.” Paul smugly throws in his brilliant wisdom. “I can see this pattern so clearly.”

Paul has no idea what I am really going through right now. I perceive him as a condescending know-it-all, coming from a place of seeing a behavior, but having no inner license to understand it, no compassion or true recognition of the underlying issues. I would love to reach out and slap Paul right now, but instead, I completely ignore his words.

He is really enjoying this scenario where he is “right” and I am “wrong”. I feel humiliated and angry at Keith for putting me in this situation.

Releasing Rightness

Every time that I attempt to simply explain my feelings to Keith, he cuts me off and lectures me some more. This process goes on for at least ten or fifteen minutes.

Finally, I interrupt in extreme protest, insisting that I be given the respect that I deserve – demanding that I be listened to and heard without my genuine statements being invalidated.

“That may be so,” Keith acknowledges my genuine statements of self-defense, “but you still need to go inside and face this issue, blah, blah, blah.”

I feel angry and victimized by my parents. I am increasingly beginning to recognize that this is not the normal Keith that I am talking to … that this has to be a role-play. It is so unusual, and is perfectly taking me back into emotions of childhood. I just want to run away … to pout and cry for days … I want closure.

In the midst of this frustrating, lecture-filled conversation, Keith actually does agree with the original point I had tried to make, but he is skillfully taking me into a real core issue, triggering my deep pain in a brilliant way that seems real and profound. Paul remains clueless of the fact that Keith is skillfully role-playing for me, taking me into childhood emotions.

I want to discuss my role-play theory with Keith, but realize it would be futile to do so while Paul is still here. Paul remains clueless and somewhat gloating. I decide I do not need to be right in Paul’s eyes, and that I can wait to talk to Keith until after Paul leaves. In the meantime, I begin to let go of my intense identification with and attachment to this crazy-making confusion.

Please Disengage

Right before Paul finally leaves, he launches into a beautiful rational-mind description telling me how I can get over my issue … telling me how deeply he understands what I am struggling with … blah, blah, blah.

First, I just put my fingers in my ears, making my point with a physical gesture. Then I realize how childish this is and simply decide to speak up.

“Paul,” I beg for some sanity, “can you please just disengage.”

Paul reluctantly stops preaching and soon vacates the porch.

A Brilliant Reenactment

“Keith,” I express with a smile, “I think I get it. What you are brilliantly showing me, whether you are role-playing or not, is that I cannot explain my truth to Paul, because no matter how many times I might try to say it or to explain it, he would not be able to hear it. It would not matter how right (or wrong) I am… he will not hear it, and there is no point in getting into that debate with him right now.”

To my delight, Keith then readily admits that has been role playing – and that he agrees with the original truth I had attempted to share with Paul.

“Paul is simply not in a place where he understands right now.” Keith smiles at me.

“That was brilliant.” I giggle back at Keith. “Thank you so much for showing me this intensely profound trigger. I literally did feel as if I were being unjustly lectured by concerned and frustrated parents … slammed for simply trying to express real truth to someone who could not hear it. It gave me first-hand understanding of the confusion and futility I felt as a child when I attempted to express my heart-based truth to my parents.”

“I can clearly see why I have ‘love’ hooked so tightly with ‘conflict and rejection’.” I continue. “When I spoke from my heart, I was powerless to defend or explain myself … to explain how I knew something. Today, this little role-play took me right into the gut-wrenching emotional pain of this reenactment.”

Rather Be Happy

“Paul really does believe that you heal people by pushing them.” I express new clarity to Keith. “He believes that you push them into changing … and that is why he continues to try to push on the porch … why he is still trying to show you how to do things better … because HE doesn’t believe that YOU fully get how to do it right.”

“But I also clearly recognize,” I admit with newfound humility, “that no amount of explaining or teaching right now would convince him otherwise. That would not serve him in any way.”

I feel so much better. I was so perched on the edge of sinking into an old loop, and then sulking about it … of feeling horrible and miss-accused. But instead, I was able to get the lesson the easy way. I felt the pain, but did not fully identify with it … not fully attaching to it. I listened to and observed what was going on, experienced the pain to the core, intuitively began to understand what was really happening, and then brought in higher energies to help me release the confusion and beliefs.

“The lesson truly is,” I express my understanding to Keith, “that I continue to get deeply attached to being right when it involves an issue of my heart … especially when confronted by someone like Paul with whom I have a long history of agonizingly painful projections.”

“It comes down to one of my favorite ‘A Course In Miracles’ principles,” I explain new clarity. “Trying to be right never is a source of happiness. I would rather be happy.”

Adult Discernment

“Brenda,” Keith shares new wisdom. “As a child, you were unable to discern when to try to speak your truth and when it would not be helpful … and so you got into deep trouble with parents and were shut down as a result. But as an adult, you now have the ability to discern when it is appropriate to try to explain a truth to someone else, and when it is appropriate to simply back away and let them have their own truth … no matter how wrong you may believe their truth to be.”

“Wow,” I thank Keith. “This is so true … I do not need to be right … Paul can believe whatever he wants to believe. This was so charged for me because of my intense history of projections with him. This has been a profound and brilliant lesson. Thank you so much for helping me to learn it at an experiential level.”

I have long understood this principle at a rational-mind level, but today I was given the profound gift of understanding it from the level of the heart.

A Winged Visitor

In the past, such a role-play experience with Keith would have left me devastated, angry, and deeply looping in emotions. I am delighted that tonight I am giggling and on top of the world. I am quite proud of myself for being so quick to recognize that the emotions that were being triggered – and the situation doing the triggering – were simply showing me old stuff that had nothing to do with the present. I am even more delighted that I was able to learn this lesson without the pain of fully identifying with and attaching to those deeply agonizing emotions.

I am in such a positive mood after this life-altering experience, that I am able to spend two passionate days writing nearly nonstop. On Monday, March 5, 2012, I write and publish “A Powerful Exclamation Point”, and on Tuesday I eagerly write, “A Humbling Journey.”

At 4:59 p.m. on Tuesday afternoon, just as I begin my final editing, I giggle as a tiny sparrow flies into my kitchen and perches on the door next to my refrigerator. He then flutters around my kitchen area, hopping from place to place, before quickly disappearing back out onto the patio a minute later.

This is the first sparrow to visit me in a while. He could not have come at a more beautiful time – seemingly congratulating me for an amazing five-day journey – congratulating me for spreading my wings and letting go of what could have so easily become a reason to feel deeply betrayed.

Winged Wonder

These two days of ceremony and three days of writing have indeed been eventful and profound. I took an intense journey through childhood sadness, experiencing a deeper understanding of the confusing confusion that muddied my world, and I began to get a profound education into the concept of “squeemy” – of releasing deep emotions at a cellular level without involving the rational mind.

And then, wow did I ever take a dive into the deep-end of the emotional pool, profoundly exploring, in an experiential way, the childhood feelings surrounding that emotional nightmare called conflict. I could not imagine a more beautiful day in which conflict was first modeled for me in an external way. After sinking into the childhood emotions of terror surrounding conflict, I was then sucked head first into the currents in a crazy-making role-play with Keith – one involving conversational conflict with Paul.

That profound lesson was more valuable than anything I could have ever gotten from a book. I remembered, at a deep level, exactly how it felt to explain my genuine heart-felt truth, only to be slammed and blindsided by adults who simply were not in a place where such truth could be accepted. In my desperate attempts to be right I only made things worse – a pattern that I have played out for decades – a pattern that is finally exposed in a painful way that I will never forget.

And I am so grateful to a tiny little sparrow who again stopped by to congratulate me with winged wonder, reminding me that my time to fly is now.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

“I would love to tag along on the journey.” I share my interest with Keith. “An intuitive feeling tells me I need to get more familiar with Guatemala City, and this would be the perfect opportunity. Would that be OK?”

I am delighted when Keith encourages me to join in, pointing out that Rosa would likely enjoy my company, and that my assistance in translating would be greatly appreciated.

Getting To Guate

It is early Monday morning, February 27, 2012. I am up at 3:50 a.m., scurrying around my apartment to cook a quick bowl of oatmeal and pack a small backpack before Keith and Rosa meet up at my apartment.

Soon, Rosa runs up the steps to let me know they are both here. Seconds later, we begin a rushed thirty-minute walk to a neighboring village. There are no Tuk-Tuks at 4:45 in the morning, and we are hoping to catch a bus that passes through San Pablo around 5:20 a.m.. The skies are still black when we arrive at the center of nearby San Pablo with just a few minutes to spare. I am almost wheezing from the rapid walking that took us up three steep hills. These are the first hints of asthma symptoms that I have experienced in nearly three years of travel. In my pre-travel days, my exercise-induced asthma would surely have acted up much worse from such vigorous walking.

A few minutes later the chicken-bus from San Pedro to Guate pulls up to the curb where we are eagerly waiting. The name “Guate” is a nickname the local people use for Guatemala City. After an hour of winding up and down the switchback-and-pothole-filled roads that take us over the mountains surrounding Lake Atitlan, we finally arrive at the main inter-American highway. Another three hours after that, our crowded refurbished school bus arrives at our final destination – a chaotic bus-crowded street in the heart of Guatemala City.

A Panic-Filled Passport Process

After another brisk thirty-minute walk down a noisy and dirty traffic-laden street, the three of us arrive at our first stop – a huge indoor “Mercado” (market). Rosa has never been to such a large market – a market filled with many square blocks of tiny crowded aisles of makeshift mom-and-pop vendor booths selling their wares – a place where the interested shopper can find just about anything from spices, hardware, clothing, nuts, fruits, meats, and even pig heads.

Soon, we are off on another hurried walk as we make our way down a series of crowded streets toward the immigration office where Keith needs to retrieve his passport. While there, I make a quick decision – a decision to face my own fear at doing something new – a decision to submit my own passport into the system. This is my first time ever facing the red-tape bureaucracy of doing a three-month visa renewal at the “migracion” office in the capitol city. For some crazy reason, the thought of doing this complicated process all by myself induces a feeling of gut-wrenching panic.

Seconds after making my decision, I rush into a crazy process – first filling out papers – then running downstairs and out onto the street to make passport copies and get photos – back upstairs to wait in line to talk to a customs agent where he fills out more papers. Then I go to a different window, after which I run back downstairs to a bank, pay a few fees, and run back up to wait for the original agent to complete my paperwork.

I am quite proud of myself when, more than an hour later, after communicating entirely in Spanish, I have faced my fears and the process is complete – except for the fact that I now need to return to Guatemala City all by myself, in about two weeks, to retrieve my passport.

Contentment And Gratitude

It is early afternoon when Keith, Rosa, and I complete another long walk back to our original bus stop, where we then catch a city bus for the whopping sum of about thirteen cents each – a bus that will take us to a very modern shopping mall.

I note with somber interest that an armed guard carrying a loaded automatic weapon stands at the front of the beat-up old bus – an obvious reminder that Guatemala City has an issue with crime. But when we arrive at the mall, I literally feel as if I am back in the United States – as if I am walking in any safe and beautiful shopping center back home.

Two hours later, we divide up a heavy stack of newly-purchased cookbooks, each of us carrying a portion of the precious payload as we pay “one Quetzal” to ride a city bus back to our original chicken-bus stop. Ten minutes later, we are on a 2:30 p.m. bus that whisks us away on the four-hour journey back to Lake Atitlan.

After a short Tuk-Tuk ride, I am finally back in my apartment in San Marcos just shortly after 7:00 p.m.. It has been a very long and exhausting day – a day of over two hours of walking and eight hours of bumpy, bouncing, crowded buses – my feet are killing me, while contentment and gratitude fill me with peaceful love.

Keith and I participated in a beautiful service today, and for the first time ever, I spent time in Guatemala City (other than landing in an airport and zooming away in a taxi).

Feedback And Knowing

Early Tuesday morning I take the opportunity to finish watching the final episode of the Star Wars saga before walking out to Keith’s magical porch to assist in a private chocolate ceremony that will begin at 10:00 a.m.. Even though such extra ceremony days cause me to slip further behind in my writing, I love participating in such private groups.

My energy today does not feel especially powerful, but I am happy, connected, and ready to hold powerful space for others. During the first couple of hours in the ceremony, I do just that. I giggle inside when Keith eventually interrupts while I am working with one woman.

“Can you feel what you are doing?” Keith asks the woman. “You are releasing a lot of density out of your feet, letting it go to Brenda.”

As I listen to Keith talk, I am deeply grateful for his words. My hands are tingling, and I do feel a lot of power in my heart – yet I am so shut down in the area of sensitivity that I really do not fully understand what it is that I am doing.

“In fact,” Keith further surprises me while talking to the group, “most of you in this corner are releasing density through Brenda. Brenda is good at working with entire groups of people.”

As I continue to hold space and assist, I can only trust that Keith’s words are true. I feel confident and unconcerned by my cluelessness as to the scope of what I am doing. I trust that right now I do not need to know what I am doing – that I can simply ask my heart to do whatever it does, and that the knowing I need will come when it is time.

Holding Divine Hands

Eventually, I sit back on my own cushion. I feel tired and know it is time to do a little “me” meditation. I trust that Keith will call on me if I am needed to assist.

As Keith works with a woman next to me, he suggests that she connect to her angels/guides/Higher-Energy with one hand and to her inner child with the other. Intuition causes me to follow along in her process. Soon, I am imagining myself back in a meditation from nearly a year ago, standing reluctantly in a hallway just outside of a room that glows with brilliant light. Inside that room are all of my Higher Dimensional friends – Higher Beings that I have known for many lifetimes – a circle of friends that are now supporting me during my earthly journey. (See June 23, 2011 blog titled “Circles Of Friends”.)

As I try to imagine myself finally walking through this glowing doorway, I still cannot find the ability to do so … but I somehow do find the courage to reach an imagined hand through the open doorway. Then, I ask my inner children to take my other hand. As I do so, visualizing my friends grasping my hands with loving divine support, I tear up in a mixture of both joyful emotions and intense fear. I am deeply touched by this image.

A Divine Lift

When Keith guides the woman next to me to imagine herself lying down and giggling in a mud puddle, I do the same, visualizing myself in the mud, still holding the hands of my angelic friends. I imagine my circle of friends lifting me out of the mud while little Bobby and Sharon use magic wands to remove all the dripping slimy mud from my skin and clothing.

Then, another metaphor intuitively presents itself – one Keith often shares with people. I see myself standing at the bottom of an un-climbable wall of glass – an obstacle in my path that I cannot cross using rational mind – an obstacle that can only be passed with the assistance of Higher Energy.

As I imagine my circle of friends lifting me, I feel them flying me into the air, showing me the possibilities – making it quite clear that they have the ability to lift me over that wall. As I intuitively feel myself suspended in the air by the pure love of my friends, I cry some more, again shedding tears mixed with both joyful and fearful emotions.

I recognize that I am not yet being taken over the wall, but am being given a powerful meditative glimpse into the possibilities of where I am headed.

Releasing Fear And Resistance

Soon, Keith leads the group in an empath training – one that again causes me to sink further into my ongoing process. As I contemplate the buildup of pains in my abdomen, I begin to get the feeling that these pains are not emotional densities at all – that they are pains caused by intense fearful resistance regarding the consequences of reopening this level of magical awareness.

As Keith guides the group, I disengage and focus my intent on allowing fears and resistance to be released to the metaphorical angels. By the end of the training, I have completely relaxed my body. I continue to feel some painful blockage, but am glowing with light and peaceful energy. I am even more convinced that the remaining pains – at least the layers I am experiencing today – continue to be fear and resistance.

Soon, I am back in my “mud meditation” – imagining my circle of friends and inner children lifting me out of the quicksand of rational mind that has me trapped. As I do this, intense tears again begin to surge inside me. I attempt to keep them mostly in check, not wanting to make a personal scene in this private ceremony.

A Faint Flow

Next, Keith mixes things up by throwing in an unexpected meditation. It is one with which I am quite familiar, but to my surprise, many parts of it feel brand new.

First, Keith guides us to feel an energy that supports us from below – an energy that metaphorically equates to being held in the palm of God, or sitting in the lotus of the Buddha.

As I focus on finding this energy, I instead encounter a feeling of emptiness – of being unable to feel anything.

“I am unable to bring in such motherly love from the Divine Mother Earth,” I think to myself in confusion. “I feel nothing at all.”

After finding this energy, Keith guides people to send down roots from this energy – roots that reach to the very center of the earth. Next, as we use these roots to pull energy up from the Divine Mother, I manage to feel a very tiny flow of mild energy in my lower two chakras, but this faint flow gets deeply stuck at the base of my solar plexus.

Dark, Dank And Depressing

“Now,” Keith guides, “bring up the energy to support your heart. Imagine the scent of the lotus fragrance drifting up to your heart, even if it is just a drop or two.”

As I focus on this process, I begin to be overwhelmed by deep fear – profound inexplicable fear and near panic.

“Motherly love is not allowed in my heart.” I ponder with deep painful insight. “I am afraid of it.”

After completing this beautiful meditation, Keith unexpectedly guides the entire group deep into their subconscious, walking down and down, deeper and deeper into the subconscious mind, ending up somewhere in our heart or solar plexus.

To my shock, in a very vivid intuitively perceived visualization, I find myself frightened and isolated in my solar plexus. I am in a very dark, cold, putrid cave-like room. The walls are damp and smelly, covered with slimy mold and mildew. The dank and dark cavern is disgustingly devoid of love – undeserving of love.

Intuitively I feel as if a thick layer of steel reinforcement prevents any love from entering.

Shocking And Overwhelming

“I hate my mother’s love,” unexpected words flow strongly into my mind. “I am disgusted by what that love feels like.”

(NOTE: I love my mother very much – and I absolutely know that she loved me as well. She loved me with all of her heart, in the only way she knew how. What I am writing about here is not the reality of my mother’s love, but is instead the colored and filtered perceptions of a lost and frightened child who was incapable of clearly perceiving the real love that my mother had for me.)

As I ponder these surprising feelings, I begin to realize that the only real memories I have of feeling an unconditional connection with my mother during my younger years were at around age three or four when we occasionally hugged each other during moments of brief connectedness. From age five and older, I have only memories of being annoyed by what I felt was her constant nagging – by her attempts to keep me on a loving straight-and-narrow path. She did it with pure genuine intention, but I felt as if her love was always focused on manipulating me to be better – as if it were conditional, based on my obedience and conformity to her teachings.

I learned at a very young age that I could not perceive my mother’s love unless I was pleasing her.

“I hate love.” The agonizing words flow uncontrollably through my mind. “I hate love … I hate love … I hate love … I hate love.”

The level of disgust and hatred for what I, as a child, perceived as love is shocking and overwhelming.

Judge The Sinner

In later brainstorming, I clearly see that this “hatred at love” had nothing to do with my mother. I felt the same manipulation and control from nearly all adults in my life – family, extended family, some friends, and even total strangers. It stems from the deep conditioned awareness that punishment, judgment, and perceived withholding of love, were the result of stepping out of the box – that these “sins” of being different could not be tolerated.

A concept of “loving the sinner, but not loving the sin” was a predominant force in how I perceived the teachings of my religion. The only problem was that most people (in my perception), in their attempt to reject the vilified sin (no matter how miniscule), invariably ignore and ostracize the “sinner” as well, because they feel as if loving a person who is committing a sin is somehow endorsing and enabling that sin to continue. In this twisted logic, the only way that someone in such a mindset can help another to “stop sinning” is to withhold love – to make them feel like an outcast.

So as a youth, absolutely understanding this judgmental behavior to my core (from personal experience, personal observation, and via being an empath), I did my best to be perfect – to hide my true self and my horrible sins. True or not, I absolutely knew that I would not be loved if those evil inner feelings were made public – I absolutely knew that the love others had for me was conditional – conditioned on my conformance.

In an agonizingly painful way, as I write these words I recognize that a hidden portion of this conditioning continues to live inside of me in the way I perceive the behavior of others.

Outside The Door

At the end of this shocking “I hate love” meditation, I am crying quite strongly-but-silently – attempting to minimize my noise while piling up the tissues. I wish I cold permit this intense emotion to burst forth, but hesitate because I am assisting in a private ceremony.

As the ceremony reaches perceived conclusion, Keith asks if anyone has anything else they would like to work on. After a several minute meditation gap where no one speaks up, I decide to open my mouth.

“I would love some help.” I express to Keith as I briefly explain my painful meditative journey.

Seconds later, Keith asks a woman to sit in front of me, touching my feet, assisting me in bringing in the Divine Mother energy. I begin to cry deeply as I struggle to allow this love.

“Open your eyes and look at her.” Keith points to the women in front of me. “She doesn’t have any conditions, doesn’t care if you receive it or not, and doesn’t care what you did or do … she is just making the Divine Mother energy available to you.”

“Yeah,” I respond as I stare at this beautiful and peaceful face. “I feel this love’s purity and unconditional nature. I feel it just outside the door. I feel how beautiful and safe it is … how nonjudgmental it is … how peaceful it is … but I don’t seem to be able to let it come into my disgusting, dark, dank, and moldy room.”

Tiny Tidbits

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “just find the door to the room and open it to let a little bit of the love come in.”

“When I open the door,” I respond after meditative attempts, “I feel it immediately swing closed again.”

“Just open it to let a little in,” Keith gently encourages. “Then let it close. Let the little bit that comes in do whatever it does to build trust.”

“It feels peaceful, calming, and not threatening.” I respond a few minutes later.

“Open the door and let in a little more.” Keith guides.

We repeat this process several more times. Gradually I feel more and more tiny tidbits of love enter this room.

Shared Visualizations

Eventually, I experience weird twitching in my solar plexus, as if something is kicking and poking me from the inside.

“Trust this as part of the process.” Keith guides me. “This is what it felt like when your mother controlled and manipulated you with love. It literally felt like being kicked or poked on the inside. You have to go through this same process during the undoing.”

I observe this bizarre inner kicking for a while. It feels as if huge gas bubbles are popping in my solar plexus, actually twitching and poking me in bizarre spasms. After about twenty minutes, the inner turmoil fades at about the same time that the chocolate ceremony fades to natural conclusion.

I find myself in a very good place. The woman who was sending me Divine Mother energy soon shares that she actually saw my dark, dank, disgusting, moldy room. Keith gives me similar feedback, sharing that he too saw that room. I never actually saw it as a visual, but I vividly felt its putrid, rank, disgusting nature.

Conditionally Delivered

As I gather up my belongings, I feel the significance of the progress I made today – progress that continues to provide more insight into understanding these crazy pains in my solar plexus. It becomes increasingly apparent that many if not most of these pains are indeed related to a wall of resistance to allowing Divine Feminine love to reach my heart.

“Could this be another strong clue to my ‘blown fuse’?” I ponder with curiosity.

I am quite pleased that, at least for today, I received more trust-building glimpses reassuring me that energy can indeed flow into my lower chakras.

In a short conversation with Keith after the ceremony, he makes it very clear that my dear mother loved me very much – and that she loved me in the only way she knew how – with that conditional coloration.

I know she loved me deeply … and I know that because of that love, and the culture in which we were both raised that it was absolutely mandatory for her to control and manipulate me into conforming to the beliefs of our religion. I clearly recognize that all of her discipline, nagging, and punishments were done from a loving stance – an act of desperation to keep me safely in the fold.

I am also pleased that I am increasingly learning to understand the intricate complexities of love delivered in a conditional way.

Peace To Distraction

After a rushed morning of shopping across the lake, I barely make it back to San Marcos in time to hurry over to Keith’s porch.

In no way could I possibly be prepared for the emotional turmoil and trauma that awaits me.

When the chocolate ceremony begins, I am in beautiful energy, bringing in peaceful vibrations while imagining myself working with the Divine Mother meditations that had so profoundly touched me yesterday.

“Brenda, there is a very beautiful energy here today.” Keith had surprised me early before the glow meditation. “If you connect with it, it can help you go where you want to go.”

“I am already deeply connected to that energy,” I respond to Keith. “In fact, I believe I am helping to anchor it into place.”

But as this statement leaves my lips, I realize I have suddenly slipped into my head, starting to think about what I am doing rather than just BEING what I am doing. By the end of the glow meditation, I feel deeply distracted by language translations, noises, interruptions, and head chatter as Keith begins to work his way around the porch.

Damned Regardless

After more than an hour, when Keith finally turns to me, I begin to share my crazy journey – a journey beginning with beautiful energy and now being plagued by very distracted, confused, angry, anxious, and agitated emotions.

“I literally feel as if I regressed back to my childhood again.” I express my confusion. “The emotions I feel right now make no sense based on present reality – yet these emotions ARE very real. I am feeling the sensation of being horrendously nagged and manipulated … taking me back to that feeling of ‘I hate this kind of love’ that I had yesterday.”

“I’m struggling, trying to figure out what to do.” I express frustration to Keith. “I don’t know if I just need to sit and feel these emotions, if I need to cry, or if I need to try to bring in light, …”

Keith congratulates me on my awareness, and points out that my need for rules, recipes, and handholding guidance is a part of this confusion.

“You don’t know what to do,” Keith guides me, “because as a child, no matter what you did, it was wrong.”

“I was always in that damned if I do and damned if I don’t spot.” I share with Keith. “My true heart was always wrong, rejected, and getting me into trouble. Following my parents did not feel good.”

Observing Emotional Eruptions

“I’m getting physically nauseas.” I share with Keith. “It hurts. As a child, I had tons of intestinal and digestion pains. I am wondering if that was my only childhood way of getting real loving attention in a way that would not get me into trouble. Such pains gave me a valid reason to be crying.”

Keith agrees that I am onto something with this new line of thought. I begin to observe these pains while asking the light to support and assist me. Gradually I relax and the pains subside – yet the emotions continue and I isolate from the group, lost in emotion, simply sitting on my pillow and feeling.

At one moment while working with Keith, I begin to sink deeply into agonizing emotion. I smile when at that precise moment Paul jumps up and begins to create disturbance by running around and passing out more chocolate.

“Just like clockwork.” I whisper to Keith while continuing to explore these emotions.

On another occasion, when I slip into the kitchen to pour chocolate for a new arrival, I almost break down into sobs while in the kitchen. But seconds later, after stuffing the emotions and returning to my seat (doing exactly what I did as a child), I simply melt into the invisible framework of the porch – disappearing to numbness and isolation while continuing to observe at a different level for the remainder of the ceremony.

Indignant Projections

As the ceremony concludes, I remain behind to hold space for the processing of one person who is deeply struggling. This person’s work leads me to profoundly recognize a painful pattern in my own life – one that has repeatedly played out. The pattern tells me that I have the act of receiving Divine Love as being hooked and equivalent to rejection, abandonment, and being alone.

“I’m not sure I want Divine Love.” I share these insights with Keith. “Conditional love hurt, but it kept me in the box. Divine love took me out of the box, and when I left the box, I met nothing but rejection and abandonment.”

As these words leave my lips, I being to sob, deeply experiencing those emotions of abandonment, as if they were in the present-day.

“You have moved some very deep stuff today.” Keith congratulates me.

But in my state of still being lost in unbelievably strong waves of emotion, I am not really sure if congratulations are in order. I have little trust in what I have been doing.

Keith momentarily steps into his house to add a layer of clothing for the cool evening air. As he does so, I witness the behavior of another person – behavior that triggers me into a state of deep judgment, anger, and projection. My professional ethics as a not-yet licensed counselor launch me into a state of unexpressed indignation. In retrospect, I can see how such events were innocent and lovingly motivated – but at the time, my projections and imagination were at full strength.

A Series Of Slams

I will not provide details – suffice it to say that a few minutes later, when Keith and I are alone on the porch, I attempt to express my concerns.

“Brenda, those are your projections.” Keith gets sternly frustrated and impatient with me.

“Keith,” I angrily respond. “I am not sure if I want to be part of an environment where such things are allowed and ignored.”

For a few minutes, I feel as if Keith and I are deeply arguing – I perceive that I am being unjustly slammed for my genuine attempts to express real valid concern. I am so engulfed in my feelings of betrayal and abandonment that I am prepared to stomp out angrily and never return. I actually do stomp halfway down the garden steps before turning to further engage Keith.

“I’m too emotional right now … I won’t be here to help with bagging chocolate tonight … I don’t think I can do it.” I express to Keith regarding his plans to bag 250 pounds of freshly ground chocolate that is probably on its way back from the mill as we speak.

I am then blown away by how this statement results in what I, in my childhood emotional state, perceive as an absolute slamming rejection from Keith. I feel as if I am being made into the bad guy here – being blamed for my incapacitated emotional state. I know that I am not really needed – that there will be plenty of others to help with the bagging.

In retrospect, as I write about these events, I can now see that all of this is a beautiful stage play – a setup showing me exactly what happened to me as a child – but at the time I am extremely devastated and feel deeply abandoned by someone who should treat me with loving compassion.

Bullied And Manipulated

“Brenda,” Keith points out, “you are on the edge of sinking into another deep loop of isolation, resentment, and judgment. Remember that you can choose to go into this loop, or you can refuse to take the bait. The choice is yours.”

“I will go home and put on some jeans and grab a sandwich.” I mumble in frustrated emotional tones. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Whatever you choose is fine.” Keith lovingly reassures me.

I absolutely do not want to come back. I feel bullied and manipulated into coming back – as if Keith’s loving words were used to shame, control and manipulate me (another beautiful stage play of what happened to me as a child).

After a quick round trip for two peanut butter sandwiches and a banana, I soon arrive back on Keith’s depressing porch. Others are giggling, laughing, and interacting with each other in happy magic. I sit over in a corner, double-checking weights on a scale, struggling not to burst out into emotional sobs – struggling to keep my eyes open from the exhaustion of such an intense emotional journey.

I use the evening to wallow and ponder in my misery, struggling to remain the observer and to not get further lost in the trauma and drama.

Several times Keith walks over and touches my arm.

“How are you doing?” He asks with a loving, concerned glow in his eye.

“Struggling, but surviving.” I respond.

Eventually, during one of these check-ins, Keith reassures me that it would be OK if I need to go home. I refuse to leave, sulking in my misery, continuing to feel quite resentful regarding how I felt manipulated into being here against my better judgment – against my own personal needs and wishes. All I want to do is go to bed and sob in a pile of tears.

Running Is Not An Option

It is after 10:00 p.m. when I finally enter my apartment and sit down at my computer. I am lost in a state of angry childhood confusion – so angry and confused that I struggle to recall even the basic details of what took place this afternoon. After nearly an hour of angrily and numbly typing notes, I am more upset than ever. Perhaps “pissed” would be a more accurate word.

“I am pissed, pissed, pissed.” I scream out in deep gut-wrenching sobs.

In my present state, I am so profoundly filled with righteous indignation, feeling so “done with Keith’s porch”, that I am ready to go on a temporary-and-perhaps permanent vacation. The only problem is that my passport is at the immigration office in Guatemala City.

I find it bizarrely humorous that tonight I am so angry that I really could just pick up and go to Mexico (or somewhere else) for a while to calm down. I have never before been this angry at Keith and this ready to abandon my inner work on his porch. But because I have followed the flow, synchronous events have caused me to be without a passport for the next couple of weeks.

It seems that in my darkest hour, running anywhere is not an option.

A Sobering Thought

After going to bed and staring angrily at the ceiling, I get up to write a few more notes.

I remember how Keith had talked about a statement I made during our argument … a statement that part of me would “rather die than shift these beliefs” (beliefs related to my reason for the anger).

“Brenda,” Keith had told me, “This anger is your teacher … preparing you to work with people who are terrified of shifting their conditioned beliefs. People like that will come to you for help, already being in this same state of panic.”

“I don’t want to work with people like that.” I had expressed my terror to Keith. “I can work with you because I can somewhat hear what you are trying to tell me … but I cannot work with someone like me right now if they are not willing to listen.”

“Then you will have to be OK with watching them get lost,” Keith shares the stark facts.

As Keith mentions that I will have to watch people I love and care about go down the emotional toilet because they have too much fear to face their issues, I know he is actually talking about me too – that he is OK if I bolt and run – that he is OK if I suffer a meltdown and never come back to my spiritual path. The thought is very sobering.

Broken Sleep

I am still up at 11:35 p.m., and I am still pissed. At 12:23 a.m. on Thursday morning, I am again sitting at my computer typing the words, “pissed, pissed, pissed.”

I am not at all sure if I will get any sleep tonight … any at all.

Finally, at 2:30 a.m., still being wide awake, still steeped in my anger, I begin to ponder whether or not I have the will power to even attempt to leave this emotional loop before it runs to full completion. I begin to focus on self-love … on loving myself for being right where I am at … on loving myself no matter what I am doing.

As I do so, I begin to feel something shifting inside. Intuitions take me to a thought of moving from the dark side of the force, gradually returning to the light. Finally, I get about two hours of broken sleep – sleep that is filled with dream metaphors from “Return of the Jedi” and “The Force”.

Hopeless Self-Loathing Surrender

By 4:30 a.m., I am again wide-awake – and remain so for the remainder of the long night. I want to meditate and bring in more self-love, but when I walk in to the bathroom to look in a mirror, the only thing I want to do is to scowl at the face I see and to loudly scream the words “F@ck you!!!”. I am lost in a total state of self-loathing.

“I’m too tired to effing care.” I ponder in self-deprecation. “I don’t feel like another living soul cares at this point … no one understands. Right now I am also projecting ‘F@ck you’ energy all over Keith. I know self-love is the answer, but I don’t effing want self-love … I literally would leave the country right now if my passport were available.”

Several times in my angry restlessness, I get up and walk by the bathroom mirror. Each glance at my face is met by angry snarls, swear words, calling myself a loser … and sobs, sobs, and more sobs.

The intensity of this self-hatred has me scared. I am stuck, and the way I feel right now I am quasi-suicidal. I am not yet thinking about ways to do myself in, but I literally am so low and depressed that right now I have no desire to go on with life. I feel like I have ruined everything … that Keith is now abandoning me … and that I will forever be a failure. I am literally giving up.

A Perfect Setup

At 9:30 a.m., still struggling, I walk out toward the edge of town, hoping to find Keith at home. I am exhausted and non-functional, wondering if a session with Keith might help versus the idea that maybe I just need to observe myself and let this crazy agonizing loop play itself out to conclusion.

“C’mon in,” Keith greets me with a smile, quickly dropping everything to spend the next two hours helping me.

“Your Higher Self set all of this up to take you to this next state of childhood experience.” Keith guides me after I share my long depressing journey.

“You reached a state of just giving up,” Keith continues, “of having no more hope.”

“Yeah,” I respond with new hope and recognition, “that makes a great deal of sense. It makes no sense to me as an adult, but I have reached a regressed state where I do not believe in anything or anyone … wanting to just fade away … knowing I will never be an author … that I will end up penniless … without family or friends … with no place to live or call home … to just die and disappear.”

“This is exactly what you finally ended up experiencing as a child,” Keith guides me. “Go into that emotion and feel it … connect with that child.”

Swirling Energy

As I meditatively connect with my little inner child, I begin to sob intensely.

“There is a lot of sadness in here.” I mumble through my gut-wrenching sobs.

“And there is a huge amount of buried rage underneath that sadness.” I share strong intuitive feelings a few minutes later.

“Release that rage.” Keith encourages me.

“I’m trying,” I express my confusion. “But it is not coming to the surface and now I cannot feel it anymore.”

“Then you are not ready for that today.” Keith gently reassures me.

“My forehead is swimming in severe confusion.” I express new feelings. “It feels so distracting that I cannot remember hardly anything. It feels like swirling energy in my third eye – as if my third eye is stuck in the mud.”

“Now your inner knowing is starting to teach you.” Keith guides me.

I have no idea where that “stuck in the mud” metaphor came from … but my forehead feels as if it is clogged with mud, and the intense swirling is trying to stir things up a little.

No Other Choice

Keith congratulates me on my unfolding intuitive ‘knowing’, teaching me that the densities I am working with can only be released after I achieve this ‘knowing’ as to why I designed my life to put those densities/lessons there in the first place.

For a while, we talk at a rational-mind level about how my third-eye is my place of divine knowing and understanding.

“You shut it down at a young age because it got you into trouble.” Keith reassures me. “Your parents did not do it to you … you did it yourself to get out of trouble.”

As we talk, my entire third-eye region feel increasingly congested, as if I am developing a severe sinus infection in my third-eye – as if thick plugs of mucus are blocking the flow of my energy.

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you were connected to this knowing as a child. The emotions of ‘giving-up’ that you are experiencing now as an adult are what happened to you when you had to shut this magic down. You had no other choice.”

“Yeah,” I respond, “if anyone had tried to explain to my parents what was happening to me, they never would have understood or accepted it.”

A Little Light

“Go in and ask your Higher Self to help you with this energy,” Keith guides me. “Ask for help to bring in the light, or to do whatever you are ready for.”

As I sink into meditation, I return to what I was doing on Tuesday, envisioning myself reaching my right hand into that Divine room filled with my circle of Higher-Dimensional friends. As I begin to feel tiny glimpses and hints of Divine Love, I freeze into a state of panic and mild whimpers.

“Keith,” I begin sharing, “I do not necessarily remember, but this type of crying feels eerily familiar … I remember it … it is what I did when my mother was trying to stop me from crying … it was a state of frightened panic and whimpers that simply would not stop.”

“If there is too much fear to go there today,” Keith reminds me, “then we can come back and do the rest on another day.”

“Ask the light to help you release this fear.” Keith guides me.

I meditate for a while, feeling a few drops of light, then feeling more whimpering as the fears again swell. I repeat this pattern a few times, but finally, I cannot proceed. The fears are simply too intense.

Rational Understandings

Keith interrupts my meditation to engage me in a little rational-mind talk that helps me stabilize. As we talk, I feel very clearly that this entire experience has been a profound and beautiful setup – a role play that served me deeply, even though Keith was not aware at the time that he was playing a role for me.

As a child, when I attempted to express my truth to my parents, they rejected me with frustration. Then, when I just gave up and cried, they slammed me with more frustrated rejection and disapproval. I got into trouble no matter how I attempted to express my confusing feelings. Finally, I just gave up completely.

Drug By The Nose

As I continue my meditation into the swirling energies of my congested third-eye, I feel as if I am going nowhere fast. I continue to feel a great deal of energy moving around, but cannot make sense out of it. I continue to feel blocked, stuck in the swirling mud of this confusion.

“Is this moving energy normal?” I ask Keith. “I am so confused that I do not even know what an open third-eye chakra feels like. How can I know what I am looking for?”

“It is not open, Brenda.” Keith reassures me as he guides me to meditate more.

Soon, I begin to observe as the energy moves around from place to place. First, the energy in my third-eye relaxes and I feel a strong buildup of energy that forms at the bridge of my nose. Soon the energy leaves my nose and returns to the lower forehead. This movement repeats back and forth several times, with the pressure finally resting in my nose.

“It feels like the bridge of my nose is being squeezed or pinched.” I share intuitions that flow through me.

“What metaphor does that remind you of?” Keith asks.

“Of being drug around by my nose,” I blurt out a minute later. “But I do not remember that happening to me.”

“Whether it happened physically, or just energetically,” Keith confirms my metaphor and reassures me, “that IS what happened to you.”

A Stuck Nose Energy

Eventually the energy moves down into the lower portion of my nose, near the nostrils.

“Good,” Keith guides me, “let it flow out of your nose … all of the confusion and swirling wants to release.”

I meditate for over ten minutes, attempting various types of visualizations, but nothing moves.

“Brenda,” Keith soon guides me, “imagine a waterfall of liquid light flowing through your third-eye and out of your nose.”

Again, I do this for another ten minutes, and nothing moves.

“I’m just too stuck,” I finally explain my feeling of failure.

“Then the energy is not ready to move yet,” Keith explains. “It will happen when you are ready … when you have learned everything you need to learn. That feeling of being stuck is exactly where you were as a child … shut down and unable to connect.”

Energized And Reborn

Slipping back into rational-mind discussion, I explain to Keith how, throughout my life, I have had difficulty learning by listening to lectures or simply reading a book.

“The most effective learning for me was hands-on doing.” I share. “But if someone did not give me detailed instructions, I would go into a panic of confusion and fear … like I did when thinking about getting my visa renewed in Guatemala City on Monday.”

“Is this panic, confusion, and needing of recipes and instructions related to my confusion from childhood? I ask Keith for any guidance he might bring in from my guides.

“Yes,” Keith responds, “that is part of the pattern … but I’m getting that for you the confusion began as a way to shutdown your third-eye … and as a way to move emotional densities through using confusion as a way of expressing that emotion.”

After two hours with Keith, I feel energized and reborn with new hope. After treating Bobby and Sharon to a burger and fries, we all take a much needed nap.

Keith’s response makes a great deal of sense, but it is not until writing and integrating six weeks later that I begin to recognize that frequent emotional confusion is a major clue to further opening my third-eye chakra.

Heartfelt Gratitude

These last twenty-four hours have been among the most angry and rebellion-filled hours of my emotional journey on Keith’s porch – but as usual, they have resulted in an eventual unfolding of beautiful insights relating to childhood emotional issues.

It never ceases to amaze me how synchronous events continue to coordinate a series of days into a beautiful cohesive journey. Not only did my trip with Keith to Guatemala City give me much needed confidence in going to the city and in working with the immigration office and bus system – but that trip was crucial in keeping me from being unable to run away when my tendency to do so was stronger than it has ever been. Had I had my passport in hand I very well might have opted to hop onto a tourist shuttle on Thursday morning rather than confronting my issues and returning to talk with Keith.

And the inner work that entered my awareness on Tuesday, as if out of nowhere, was also a key player. It was that experience that helped me to deeply understand how much I (as a child) hated controlling and manipulative forms of conditional love – how even when that love has a basis in true genuine foundations, that if it is used to induce shame or control (as Keith role played for me), it stirs intense inner childhood rage.

Finally, the ceremony on Wednesday took me deep into the vulnerability of absolutely knowing that, as a child, I knew that connecting to Divine Love was equivalent to absolute and utter abandonment by those I love.

Those synchronous events were precisely timed to bring me to a state where a series of loving and innocent circumstances after the ceremony on Wednesday (also beautifully scripted) took me deep into getting lost in that agonizing loop of childhood hopelessness and abandonment – taking me frightfully close to angrily giving up my work with Keith – it was a very close call.

But none of it would have happened without the patient and compassionate assistance of a dear friend and teacher.

Thank you Keith … and have I apologized yet for how profoundly I was projecting onto you? I am so grateful that you have enough inner knowing and connectedness to stand by my side even when I find myself deeply immersed in the emotions of being a crazy lost and abandoned child.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

At 4:30 a.m. on Thursday morning, I awaken with a start, as one emotional story after another flows through my head. This raging river of regressed childhood emotions continues to overwhelm me, further causing me to wish I could isolate and withdraw in rebellion.

Briefly surrendering to my inability to sleep, wanting to record insights that are passing through my mind, I get up and write a short paragraph.

“Whenever I get into these childhood shut-down emotions, especially now, they take me to a place of anger, powerlessness, and hopeless separation. When I buy into them, identifying with them (which I am still doing), I lose my connection to God and the Divine. This is deep in my God/separation drama. When I lose my connection (as I have done right now), I do not reach out to God for help, because I am in so much separation and pain that I want to say ‘F@ck you God’. It seems that I am stuck here until I break this cycle.”

Lost In ‘The Force’

Finally, after getting a little more sleep, I get back out of bed around 8:00 a.m. and begin to meditate … and meditate … and meditate. Still feeling rebellions, struggling to feel even the tiniest of connections to Higher Energy, I simply observe the raging river rapids of crazy non-stop emotions and stories.

Over four hours later, when meditative rebellion sets in, I give up in frustration. I have no desire to do anything except hide – and I do so for the rest of the day while watching the first three episodes of the Star Wars saga (episodes 1, 2, and 3).

Finally, at around 9:00 p.m., I crawl back in bed. I made it through the day. I have escaped a little, but I have NOT gone crazy. In fact, it is clear to me now, that losing myself in the magical “Force” of the movies has been deeply therapeutic.

Do Or Do Not

Friday morning while still continuing my state of emotional rebellion – of checking out from the physical world – I watch episodes 4 and 5 of the Star Wars series – with episode IV, “A New hope”, being the first movie released originally in 1977. In episode V, “The Empire Strikes Back”, as Luke is being trained by Yoda, Luke is deeply frustrated when his ship sinks into the marsh … and when he fails in trying to use “The Force” to lift it back to dry ground. In this sequence, Yoda gives Luke a series of beautiful teachings about “The Force”. Following is a tiny snippet of this scene that takes place just over half way through the movie.

“Oh no … we’ll never get it out now,” Luke complains, referring to his ship that is now covered with murky water.

“So certain are you.” Yoda responds. “Always with you it cannot be done. Hear you nothing that I say?”

“Master, moving stones around is one thing,” Luke responds in deep frustration. “This is totally different.”

“No … no different … only different in your mind.” Yoga responds. “You must unlearn what you have learned.”

“Alright, I’ll give it a try.” Luke turns to face the marsh.

“No … try not … do … or do not … there is no try.” Yoda guides Luke.

Soon, Luke begins to lift his ship, partially succeeding, but then giving up in failure.

“I can’t … it’s too big.” Luke speaks in out-of-breath exhaustion.

“Size matters not.” Yoda responds. “Look at me … judge me by my size do you? … Hmm? … and where you should not … for my ally is the force, and a powerful ally it is … life creates it … makes it grow … its energy surrounds us … and binds us … luminous beings are we, not this crude matter … you must feel the force around you … you, between you, me, the tree, the rock, everywhere, yes, even between the land and the ship.”

“You want the impossible.” Luke expresses his frustration and walks away.

A minute later, Yoda calmly and confidently closes his eyes, reaches out his arm, and uses “The Force” to lift the huge ship out of the marsh and onto dry land.”

“I don’t … I don’t believe it.” Luke expresses with surprised amazement.

“That is why you failed”. Yoda responds with a sigh.

Perfect Delivery

“Wow,” I ponder to myself while watching this scene, “this is so exactly where I am at. I know this magic exists … and I know it is inside of me … yet my own doubts and lack of firm belief continually cause me to repeatedly succeed at failure.”

I love how even when I am just watching movies out of sheer withdrawal and emotional rebellion, that the ideal message – exactly what I need to hear – is delivered to me at a perfect time.

As I prepare for an afternoon chocolate ceremony, I realize that I am still believing that my emotions are me … buying into the lie that ‘what I feel’ is ‘who I am’. I am now in the process of learning not to identify with my emotions … to observe those emotions without being or becoming them.

Bizarre Beginnings

As I sit on Keith’s magical porch, waiting for the afternoon ceremony to begin, I am shocked, and somewhat amused at what I observe. It is a bizarre beginning by any standards.

A woman asks Paul to walk with her down into the garden. A minute later, Paul yells out in anger and defensiveness.

“You’re so resistant!” The woman calmly barks back at Paul. “I was just trying to give you honest feedback.”

Again, Paul lashes out in anger. I simply sit in my chair and smile at the woman, who then smiles a frustrated smile back at me. I know exactly what she is feeling – only I no longer attempt to give such feedback directly to Paul.

As the ceremony finally begins, a woman who is on the porch for the first time is quite pushy and defiant, constantly interrupting Keith, challenging him on everything he says, and then not giving him an opportunity to respond fully before she interrupts again. She seems to be insisting on a group discussion rather than allowing Keith to talk while she listens.

Repeatedly, she asks “prove it” types of questions, creating havoc and chaos without allowing a moment’s peace for any of us. Then, when Keith attempts to answer, she does not listen, instead turning to her neighbors and loudly stirring up more validation for her cause.

To make matters even more interesting, there are four or five men present, who are also here for the first time. Several of these men feel this woman’s energy and join in, siding with her, insisting that her behavior is valid … that inquiring minds want to know … that her doubts need to be listened to and answered. Even Paul jumps into the mix, defending the woman, and insisting that Keith should be more responsive to her.

A Rebellious Stage Play

I watch this unfolding scene with observant surprise and wonder.

“This is my creation.” I ponder to myself. “It is my stage play, my Muppet Show, showing me my own rebellion at authority.”

After a chaotic hour in which interruptions prevent Keith from fully delivering his normal introductory discussions, we finally begin the “Glow Meditation.” As Keith guides the group, this same woman constantly continues to interrupt, making loud noises, and engaging her neighbors in disruptive conversation. Keith makes several loving-but-pointed comments aimed in her direction … talking about how some people are so afraid of going into their own issues that they use distraction as a defense, etc…

Finally, Keith feels guided to ask this woman to leave. Paul again comes to her defense, later lashing out at Keith with a burst of anger at how Keith did not do enough to work with her.

Keith lovingly explains to the group that three types of people are welcome on his porch … those who just want to observe … those who want to do their own work … and those who want to hold space for others if their own work does not surface.

“But there is no room for today’s distractions, where one person’s behavior interferes with the ability of others to do their own work.” Keith explains his action to the group.

As the next half hour unfolds, several others on the porch end up leaving as well. Strong intuitions tell me that this rebellion at authority is all part of my personally orchestrated stage play.

Paradoxical Pondering

“This is bizarre,” I ponder with amazement, “it is perfect to show me another part of myself … that being my judgment toward those who rebel at authority.”

I realize that, as a child, it was engrained into me that rules must be followed. I never had any tolerance, none whatsoever, toward those who refused to follow the rules. In fact, I judged such people quite harshly in my tiny mind. It seems that I was so angry at having to follow those horrible rules myself, that I believed everyone else should have to follow them too – no matter how little sense the rules made.

“It is quite the paradox,” I ponder, “that here I am trying to undo all of that childhood conditioning – trying to undo and break all of those conditioned rules – yet I still feel such judgment toward anyone who defies authority.”

A Run Of Rebellion

“How are you doing today?” Keith quickly turns to me after the glow meditation ends.

“I am still in that same process I was in when I left on Wednesday,” I respond pensively. “I remain stuck in regressed emotions, trying to not identify with them, and still not feeling connected to Higher Energies. Today, I am feeling emotions of rebellion flowing through me … rebellion at rebellious people.”

After discussing my state for a few minutes, Keith reassures me that I am in a perfect place – that I should just continue to sit with those emotions and trust my process – that he has nothing more to add.

I observe with love and gratitude as I watch Keith work with a young woman across the porch, spending a full focused thirty minutes with her – telling her that her process is so important that he was strongly guided to pull in the reins to prevent others from interfering.

Soon, as one man leaves because he is too afraid to address the inner metaphors that are surfacing in his body, Keith gently tries to explain what is happening, and reassures the man that if he stays, that he can find some answers. Again, conflict erupts as a couple of first-time men on the porch rebel and accuse Keith of pushing. I just smile, because I can see the love from which Keith is operating, and I – the queen of sensitivity to pushing energy – see absolutely nothing but pure guided ‘following’ on Keith’s part.

“Why am I creating so much conflict and rebellion at authority in my stage play today?” I again sink into deep pondering.

Conflict Craziness

By the time Keith moves on to work with the next few people, I now clearly realize that my deeper issue for today, one that is wildly churning in my abdomen, is my lifelong terror of conflict and passive-aggressive anger.

When I briefly interrupt Keith to share my unfolding insights, he clarifies that this is also triggering how I picked up the energy of my parents when I tried to be my magical self.

“When you tried to speak your truth,” Keith guides me, “not only did you pick up on the conflict that was generated in physical responses, but you empathically picked up on their energetic judgment.”

“Wow,” I share new insights with Keith, “conflict was totally terrifying to me as a child. I learned that speaking my truth was a sure way to be slammed by the conflict … that I would surely LOSE if I tried. The cayenne pepper on my tongue was not just for mouthing off with inappropriate words … it was for futilely attempting to defend myself during my shut-down process.”

Experiential Education

As Keith does beautiful work with another woman on the porch, I observe from afar, deeply riding her emotional wave. Soon, I move in closer to hold space, further connecting to her childhood journey.

I sink deep into tears surrounding the childhood agony at facing helpless conflict with the adults around me – into the agony of not being allowed to speak my truth – of being painfully punished for trying to defend myself in the only way I knew how.

As my friend sinks deeper into her own journey, I am profoundly experiencing the emotional energies that caused my terror of conflict. I feel myself as a tiny child, a magical being who is not being understood, not being validated for what I knew, judged for being different and rebellious, judged for crying all the time when I empathically took in the pain of others … and I absolutely learned at a very tiny age that any type of confrontation was sure to create agony for me.

A Bubbly Bounce

After Keith guides my friend to bring in light and self-love, he turns and talks briefly to me, sharing that the whole porch is now riding her wave.

“Do what she is doing,” Keith guides me. “She is bringing in self-love.”

As I immediately focus on doing the same, I begin to feel glimmers of joyful love for that child that was me. I almost want to giggle at that tiny fourteen-month-old baby whose image is implanted in my mind. I can feel a bubbly bounce in my baby … I can feel myself really shifting in subtle ways.

Eventually, still in this beautiful energy of self-love, I return to my seat and glow.

A Perfect Review

As another friend begins to do some deep emotional work, Keith surprises me by giving him the same speech that he gave me earlier in the week, during the yoga retreat. Keith explains to my friend how he too is regressing into the experience of deep childhood emotions – explaining how he needs to allow himself to feel them without identifying with or attaching to them as his now.

I am blown away, because when Keith first explained this to me a few days ago, it was all so new to me. I had never heard him tell anyone any of this information. I am so grateful for the personally manifested review – a beautiful opportunity for me to relive and further understand the process through which I myself am passing.

Finding The Joy

As the ceremony fades, I mention that Bobby and Sharon are begging me for a burger and fries. When a friend asks if he can join me, Keith jumps in and indicates that he would love to join us as well.

The three of us engage in delightful inner work conversation for two hours. It is the perfect opportunity to clarify and further understand my process – to tie several loose ends together.

“You cannot take the wrong bus.” Keith reminds me when I beg for clarity about why I continue to slog through emotional things in the hard way. “It is all part of your process.”

“How do I get on the easy bus … the one with joy?” I beg for answers.

“But joy seems like a scam,” I interrupt before Keith answers. “With where I am right now, it feels like joy is just throwing a blanket of light over my pain, and pretending it is not there.”

“Joy means still feeling the emotional pain, but not identifying with it, not being attached to it.” Keith shares a beautiful insight.

“Keith,” I beg for clarity, “last Tuesday morning, when you told me that you could feel my emotion so strongly that it was making you cry … and you had tears in your eyes even before I did … do you feel such deep emotion so personally all of the time?”

“Much of the time I do,” Keith acknowledges nonchalantly. “Lately, I have felt a ton of emotion on the porch, but I know it is not mine … I do not attach to it as my own … I do not identify with it … and I remain in my joy.”

“Wow, what a concept,” I ponder. “And doing all of my own painful childhood regression is preparing me to do the same … not only with assisting others, but with my own past lives and parallel lives in other dimensions.”

An Inner Light

Saturday evening, after spending the day writing, the electricity flickers on and off several times over a five-minute period. Finally, the light goes off one last time, and remains off – leaving me giggling in the middle of editing my blog titled “Lost And Bewildered”.

An hour later, as pitch-blackness continues to consume the outdoors, I cozily enjoy peaceful meditation in my living room while several candles providing glimmering light all around me.

I am suddenly shocked to see something I have never seen inside of my apartment – something I rarely even see outside my apartment. A little lightning bug is turning his inner light on and off as he crawls on my wall just inches away from my right shoulder. Each time I blow a tiny breeze of air in his direction, the little bug again lights up.

“What a beautiful metaphor.” I ponder with delight. “For more than a year now, I have been exploring a magical theme park with no power, a blown fuse, and many other profound emotional metaphors of disconnected powerlessness. Now, here I am, surrounded by physical pitch-black powerlessness, and a little bug with glowing inner light stops by to visit.”

It seems so obvious to me … I am being shown in a very profound and clear way that my true source of power and light is not external, but is instead a beautiful and loving inner glow, an inner connection to source that needs to be developed and nurtured.

Ice Cream Giggles

Just recently, last night in fact, I bought twelve ice cream sandwiches – little motivating treats that my inner children love to gobble down after a long day of writing or inner work. Knowing how electricity works (or does not work) in San Marcos, I realize that the power may be off for so long that my freezer might completely thaw. Seconds later, I begin gobbling down three of those luxurious frozen treats.

Just after 8:00 p.m. I hear sounds on my steps as Keith’s voice calls out. He has stopped by to tell me about a fascinating light show he just observed – of how he was with friends down by the lake and saw huge fiery orange flashes across the lake near where a power substation is – of how with each flash the power in all surrounding villages would go dark. Then, as the lights came back on, more huge balls of flame would flare out, until finally, after several repeats of this flickering scenario, everything went black.

“I just stopped by to tell you,” Keith talks with excitement, “that based on what I observed, we could be without power for quite some time, perhaps for three or four days. If you do not have any, you might want to run over to a store and buy a bunch of candles just in case.”

“Then I better eat more of my ice cream sandwiches.” I giggle to Keith. “Would you like to help me?”

For the next half hour, before Keith decides it is time to move on to his next stop, I pick his brain regarding my process while we combine efforts to gobble down another seven of my precious ice cream treats.

I love how even an extended power outage can turn into inner-light metaphors and fun giggles.

A Subconscious Quest

Early Sunday morning, February 26, 2012, my apartment is eerily black as I use a flashlight to check the time. Noting that I still have time for a few more hours of sleep, I close my eyes and go through the motions. But by the time the sun’s faint morning glow is peaking across the distant horizon, I am up, cross-legged on my daybed, meditating with a passionate purpose.

I have recently realized that deeply rooted inner beliefs and self-doubt continue to stifle and muffle my ability to trust and follow my heart – and I plan to go deep into my subconscious beliefs to find out why. I just recently wrote, on February 7, about a similar process in a blog appropriately titled “A Subconscious Book Of Beliefs”. If you want to further understand the mechanics of this process, please read that blog.

After meditatively journeying down all manner of staircases, elevators, ladders, and fireman’s poles, I then meander through a maze of hallways until intuition tells me I am at my destination. Not being a particularly visual meditator, I use my intuitions and inner knowing to read the metaphorical book that part of me somehow knows is already open on a pedestal in front of me.

Intuitively, I begin to read the energetic content of the pages of that book – with each paragraph laying out the rules as to why I must not trust and follow my heart. Most all of these beliefs stem from deeply engrained religious teachings.

Restrictive Heart Rules

“Your heart is not to be trusted,” the first belief flows intuitively through my knowing. “It cannot help you earn a living or survive in this world. Your heart is beautiful, but it is filled with fanciful thoughts that will lead you astray from the Kingdom of Heaven. It will distract you, confuse you, deceive you, and cause great heartache in your life.”

“Use your heart in your future marriage,” the second rule flows, “but do not let it deceive or distract you in other ways. Instead, trust the scriptures, church leaders, and the Holy Ghost to guide you.”

“If inner voices come and they do not agree with the counsel of the church,” the third rule firmly dictates, “then ignore them. They are Satan trying to deceive you. Inner voices cannot be fully trusted. They must be compared to gospel teachings. True inner guidance will never lead you away from the church.”

“The heart is sentimental,” another rule reveals itself, “subject to great folly and distortion. Do not follow it to your destruction. Following your heart is the pathway to destruction. You must work and be responsible, provide for your family, and keep the commandments. There is no room for the heart in all this.”

“The heart is play,” rule five further spoils the fun. “You must work, work, work. You must grow up and live in an adult world of responsibility.”

“Your heart only gets you in trouble.” Number six takes me into how I have the concept of ‘love’ hooked with pain and rejection. “No one honors your heart. You must suppress it in order to be loved by others, to not be rejected, to not be in pain. Following your heart will result in deep rejection and pain.”

“Your heart is defective.” Number seven gets deeply personal. “Trust other people’s hearts more than your own. Your heart is evil. It wants you to do things that are sinful.”

Raging River Of Emotion

“I hate my heart because it gets me in trouble.” I ponder with deep gushing emotion.

At this point in the meditation, I realize I have left the book of beliefs and am now deeply regressed into a bottomless pit of childhood emotion – feeling the emotions of myself as a little child – a little child who was methodically taught that his pure and genuine heart-based feelings were invalid and troublesome.

“I am bad because my heart doesn’t fit in.” Another emotional wave overwhelms me.

For at least fifteen minutes, I allow myself to slip into a fit of profuse sobbing, coughing and dry heaving. This meditation has touched on the taproot of heart-based pain – at the pain-pressurized point of having my own heart knowing invalided and punished.

This emotion is so powerful that I know it is a real substance – one that I have tapped into – one that is causing real physical reactions. I know this emotion is not me in the present, and I do not identify with it in any way. It does not define me, but it runs through me in an agonizingly physical way.

I watch, I feel, I cry, but I do not identify. Once I sense that I am at the bottom of this pain, I invite the light to assist and show me what it would to with these emotions. Soon, the flow subsides and I am stable enough to resume my meditation.

Page Removal

For the next half hour, I meditate through the process of destroying these pages from my subconscious book of beliefs – ripping the pages out of the book and uniquely obliterating them three separate times.

In the first meditation, I rip out what feels like three pages of the book, visualize myself cutting them into tiny pieces, and then very carefully mixing them up with a small block of C4 explosive clay. I place this explosive on the airtight box (from previous inner work – a box where distorted Gestapo-like masculine energy ruled over my dysfunction). Running around a metaphorical corner, I push an old-fashioned detonator plunger and “kabooey” – that airtight box explodes to smithereens, along with all of these heart-limiting beliefs.

Next, I rip the pages for a second time and place them on a funeral raft piled high with carefully stacked firewood – like you might see in the funeral scene of a medieval movie. After the raft is pushed out into a lake, I launch a flaming arrow from a bow, arching the flaming ball out over the lake. As it lands on the floating raft, the oil-soaked wood explodes in a ball of whooshing flames, cremating the raft, the pages, and everything else on the raft.

Finally, I rip the pages out one last time, slice them up into thin confetti using a razorblade, and then throw them into the air above an Olympic-sized outdoor swimming pool filled with gasoline. From a distance, I shoot a flaming arrow into the pool, which explodes into a hot fire that burns and burns until the pool is finally empty. Those beliefs are obliterated.

Need To Know Basis

As I finish my profound and deeply emotional meditation, I feel guided to check the light on my nightstand. Low and behold, it glows with brightness. It is 10:00 a.m. when I check the two remaining ice cream sandwiches in my freezer. As suspected, they are total mush.

After quickly finishing the editing and posting of my latest blog, I scurry over to Keith’s porch for yet-another round of chocolate journeying.

My heart feels connected and peaceful as I hold loving space through most of the ceremony. I watch with unattached interest as little emotional densities move around in my abdomen, but do not identify with them, simply allowing them to flow and release.

As Keith works with a woman next to me, I suddenly feel deep pains in my abdomen. Intuitively, I know these pains are not my own, but turn to Keith for confirmation.

“Yup, they are hers.” Keith smiles at me, giving me the confidence to keep doing what I am doing.

As my upper chakras remain lovingly connected, I observe and hold space for the porch for several hours, watching small pains come and go in my abdomen. I do not know if the pains I feel are mine or if they come from others, and at least for now, I realize I do not need to know. I just allow.

Perfect Guidance

Finally, Keith turns to talk to me. I quickly fill him in with descriptions of what I have been doing and feeling.

“Can you give me some feedback?” I ask.

As Keith begins to respond, giving me supportive feedback, we are rudely interrupted.

“Brenda,” Paul pompously and smugly scolds me. “You already know what you are feeling! Quit pretending that you don’t.”

I would love to smack Paul across the head, but I restrain myself, ignore his rude behavior, and then watch with surprise as Keith stands up to go work with someone else. Keith tells me later that he did not even realize that he had abandoned me at that moment … and says he was just doing what he always does, following guidance to move on. As I look back, I can see how his guidance was perfect.

Meditative Turnaround

As I ponder how I was just deeply invalidated and disempowered, I begin to experience churning and angry emotions in my solar plexus.

“This is not about Paul,” I remind myself over and over. “This is not about what it is about. And nothing changes until I do.”

“Then what is this about?” I ask myself with genuine desire.

Soon, I am meditatively exploring childhood invalidation done to me by what seemed like pompous ego-based adults who absolutely knew what was wrong with me, told me what was wrong, and told me what I needed to do to fix it – all without having a clue as to what was really going on inside of me.

“This is my God/separation drama.” I ponder as I take it deeper. “Keith represents God and Paul represents those who used ego to act in God’s name. Paul is showing me how the adults in my life lovingly slammed me with pompous fixing energy that made me feel stupid, invalidated, and disempowered – all because they did not understand me.”

A while later, when Paul comes over to work on a woman seated next to me, I quietly speak my truth.

“Paul, please stop interrupting Keith when he is working with me.” I speak sternly. “That is out of line when I am working with him.”

Saying nothing more, I return to allowing these painful childhood emotions to flow through me. The emotions of my little child are intense – ranging through anger, sadness, and deep feelings of invalidation and victimization. Through it all, I lovingly remain unattached to these emotions, not identifying with them as my present-day now, and mostly maintaining a peaceful loving space in my heart as the observer watching it all.

Withdrawal and Observation

As Keith prepares to guide the group in an empath training, one man, who is deeply stuck in his rational mind, begins to panic and create agitated conflict and confrontation over his inability to understand the non-logical guidance that Keith is sharing with the group.

Again, this intense quasi-conflict triggers my core issue-of-the-day quite deeply – taking me right back into the heart of my terror at confrontational situations. I observe the situation as it is lovingly resolved by others, but again sink deeper into childhood regression over the panic that any situation of conflict has always triggered in my soul.

During the actual empath training, however, I am so triggered and into my own space-holding-for-myself process, that I completely check out and do not participate in any of it. As the training unfolds for much of the next hour, I stew in contemplative observation mode, holding loving space while watching my child repetitively cycle between anger, sadness, victimization, and powerlessness. Throughout this process, my heart remains strong and unattached to the painful drama while my abdomen twitches wildly and angrily, all over the place.

Triggered Past, Tangled Projections

“Anyone else have anything they want to work on?” Keith asks when the training is over.

“Keith,” I quietly respond, “I would love some help.”

“What’s up?” Keith glows back at me.

I briefly explain the crazy emotional saga of my day – of how I am dealing with childhood disempowerment that has been triggered by events on the porch.

“I am doing my best to separate my projections,” I beg Keith for guidance,” and to deal directly with the childhood cause of these emotions. But I am having a hard time doing that.”

“I am deeply triggered by adults in my life who profess to be healers, yet who would come from a place of ego while disempowering others,” I share bluntly with Keith. “Then, without understanding what is going on in someone’s process, they throw fixing statements at them in a condescending way.”

Keith smiles at me as I share these words. Seconds later, I make direct eye contact with Paul. As I observe the look on Paul’s face, there is no doubt that he knows exactly what I am referring to.

Crazy Creations

“What do I do?” I ask Keith for advice. “Can you help me work with these emotions?”

“The first thing to do, Brenda, is to quit trying.” Keith responds with compassion.

Almost immediately, I quit trying to suppress my emotions, to keep my feelings at bay. As I do so, I sink into deep gut-wrenching, jaw-shaking sobs. Keith quickly asks all of the empaths in the group to support me and assist in this emotional release. This emotion runs very deep.

Like clockwork, I am not the least bit surprised by my “create my own reality” creation when Paul jumps up and begins to inflict multiple distractions, folding blankets, putting away cushions, talking out loud, etc… Within a few minutes, just one woman remains focused on supporting me. She immediately takes in a bunch of my emotion and begins to store it inside of herself.

Keith quickly turns to work with her while I continue my own emotional release.

“You need to be helping Brenda,” This woman cries as she lovingly scolds Keith.

“No, I need to be here, helping you.” Keith reassures her.

I could not agree more. I am doing just fine on my own, and I would not be able to release any more emotion if I thought she were taking it into her. I am grateful that Keith is assisting her.

Candid Conversation

“I need a few minutes alone with you.” I share with Keith when he finally checks in with me.

“Fine,” Keith responds, “I’ll walk home with you later.”

The woman who was helping soon gives me huge hugs, which causes me to cry some more. She shares amazing feedback about how strongly she perceives my heart energy, and of how I remind her of her mother’s powerful loving energy. She makes my heart metaphorically melt with love.

Finally, Keith begins walking into town with me. I am craving this opportunity for candid conversation.

First, I engage in a brief and honest conversation regarding my ongoing triggers with Paul. I am filled with sanity and gratitude as Keith validates my perceptions while reminding me that Paul is in his own unique process, that he (Keith) is following guidance, and that I can trust that all I need to do is continue to work on my own inner triggers.

“Nothing changes until I do.” I repeat to myself out loud … wondering how strongly I really believe this statement.

Non-Validating Validation

“How do I tell if I am actually moving density?” I ask Keith to teach me. “And how do I tell if it is my own or if it belongs to someone else?”

“Brenda,” Keith patiently responds, “you will only get that knowing when you quit trying to figure it out with your head. As long as you try to figure it out, the knowing will not be there.”

I scratch my head at how Keith can share such clear wisdom in ways that make my mind want to scream.

“I had that knowing for most of the ceremony,” I respond, “and I stayed mostly out of my head. I just feel like I want some validation for rational mind – validation that will help me continue to trust that I am not scamming myself.”

Without actually validating me, Keith does agree that everything I have told him about what I believe I was doing today makes sense … that there is no reason to dispute my intuitions. Again, I love how Keith can validate me without actually validating me.

But believe it or not, I actually love this short conversation. It leaves me realizing that my head really cannot validate any of this … and I need to quit trying to validate it at that level. Thinking I need outside validation is a major part of my childhood loop – one that I worked on with my subconscious book of beliefs just this morning – one that stems to the core of my shutdown – one in which I was taught to not trust my own inner knowing … the inner knowing of my heart.

The Proverbial Emotional Swirling

Late Sunday evening, as I check emails before bed, I find another beautiful quote from the “Oneness” book channeled by Rasha. As do most of the quotes from that amazing book, this one speaks to me deeply, being exactly what I need to hear right now.

“Be conscious of what you are feeling and how you are responding in the dramas of your daily life. Be honest with yourself in your acknowledgment of your emotional responses. And be not so hasty in rejecting, within your own repertoire of sensibilities, the poignant feelings that you might have yourself believe are “beneath you”. Your emotional response mechanism is very real. The key to all you would accomplish in this lifetime hinges upon your willingness to embrace all that you are, for the chance that you may come to experience – in Oneness – all that you truly are.”

I love how this quote validates that the emotional feelings that continue to surface in my process are not beneath me … that these emotional response mechanisms with which I am dealing are very real.

It often feels quite discouraging to return to such emotions over and over again. But each time I give myself painful permission to do so, I clearly recognize that this time is much deeper – that the healing and understanding that are coming to me are indeed worth all of the humiliation that comes from repeatedly appearing to spin ever deeper down the emotional toilet that it sometimes feels like.

Feeling The Spray

This last week has been a painful and wildly-emotional river run – a rafting trip down rushing rapids that began at a yoga retreat center as I became overwhelmed and consumed by inexplicable emotions – emotions that Keith lovingly helped me to understand were actually very real emotions experienced during my pre-memory years as a tiny child. The emotions were astoundingly real – so much so that as I felt them, separating from them as my adult-self was initially quite difficult indeed.

Since launching my raft into the raging river on Monday, February 20, I have repeatedly regressed – into one stage after another of agonizing emotions – each of which I experienced and recognized as correlating to various stages during the gradual shutdown of my childhood magic.

Just a week ago, I had no idea that a present-life regression was even possible. Now I have experienced such truth time and time again. What is even more amazing, however, is that I am gradually learning to do it with more grace and less attachment. It seems that as I recognize what is really happening – that these emotions are not really me in the now – that I can actually watch these emotional memories surface, feel them to the core, and let them flow through me and out of me, without attaching to them as being me, without identifying with them as being my present-day now.

It has indeed been a wild river run, rushing down the rapids as unexpected regressions greeted my experience at every bend. But to my delight, the journey no longer feels quite so relentless and raging … in fact it is growing increasingly easier and more fun with each experience.

Once I understand the process, it is somewhat exciting to feel the splashing spray of the upcoming rapids.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

I look forward to holding space and powerfully assisting in these ceremonies. As usual, the Universe has different plans.

A Steel-Toed Boot

Keith and I arrive at our destination at noon. I am delighted to engage in a round of huge angelic hugs with my friend – the one I have called Angela in previous writing – a beautiful young woman who has again returned to the lake to help teach this retreat.

As I nibble on fruit in the kitchen, waiting for the 2:00 p.m. ceremony to begin, I hold my hand on a very painful solar plexus – one that has been hurting me all morning. I feel as if an extremely hard and painful rock has taken up residence at the center of my abdomen, just below the ribcage.

When the ceremony gets underway, it becomes obvious that a large percentage of this group could benefit from an empath training – one that Keith quickly conducts at an unusually early stage in the ceremony. As the training progresses, my pains worsen. By the end of phase one, my solar plexus aches profusely. By the end of phase two, I feel so pain ridden and shutdown that I disconnect from the group, returning to my yoga mat about ten feet from the others.

I am unable to access any sensation of light, love, or Higher Energies. As I grasp for ways to describe the pain, it feels as if I were metaphorically kicked by a steel-toed boot – both at that nail-in-my-heart spot at the center of my heart chakra, and in the center of my solar plexus.

Miserable Desires

I feel like a recluse loser as I simply observe the remainder of the ceremony, doing so from afar. I hurt too much. The thought of trying to assist or hold space for others seems like an impossible task.

I try to send love to the pains in my body, but the emotions and pains are so strong that it takes every ounce of strength I have simply to sit where I am at – to not run away, dig a very deep hole, climb in, and scream with agony at the top of my lungs.

As the ceremony ends, I note that Keith remains behind to assist one woman who continues to process very deep emotions. I remain detached from the events, quickly locate my tent and set it up on the concrete floor of this outdoor yoga paradise – first lining the ground with layers of yoga mats, then my tent, then more yoga mats, air mattresses, and my sleeping bag. As far as I am concerned, I could crawl in that tent right now, isolate myself, and be quite happy in my misery.

A Full Stomach

When Keith finishes what he is doing, I briefly touch base, apologizing for my emotional state, expressing my deep confusion regarding what I am experiencing.

“Brenda,” Keith surprises me, “I’m getting that you have regressed into the depths of childhood pain … being taken back to feel and experience the actual childhood pain that you went through. Trust the process, allow yourself to feel it, and let the knowing unfold.”

Keith and I are both late for dinner, so there is no time to talk. A minute later, I am glumly picking through what is left of this vegetarian buffet. The salad is dripping with dressing – and I am not especially fond of salad dressing – so I end up grabbing three medium sized boiled potatoes, a stack of warm corn tortillas, and a small bowl of broccoli soup. In my current state of crazy emotional depression, the only thing with which I concern myself is that my stomach is not empty.

Present-Life Regressions

“How are you doing?” One young woman asks after dinner.

“Keith tells me I am regressing to childhood, experiencing the agonizing emotions of how I felt when I was being shut down at a very young age.” I answer politely, still not fully grasping or understanding what I am doing.

As the dining room is being rearranged for a group “Kirtan” gathering, I seriously consider running away, crawling in my tent, and checking out … but something causes me to stay. I feel utterly stupid and detached from events. As the group talks, laughs, sings, chants, and plays instruments together, I simply isolate and breathe, attempting to not burst out into agonizing tears.

An hour later, Keith leads a smaller group in a discussion about past life regressions and related topics. At one point in the discussion, Keith talks about the concept of doing a regression into present-life feelings and emotions – going back in time to see through the eyes and feel the emotions of that part of us – the same as we do when regressing into a past-life experience.

“Are you saying that there really is such a thing as a present-life regression?” I beg for more clarification, speaking for the first time in a couple of hours.

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith confirms confidently. “That is what you are doing right now … feeling your child’s emotions and pains while being in your adult body.”

“Wow,” I ponder to myself, “that puts what I am doing into a whole new perspective and understanding. I had no idea I had hurt this much as a child, but these emotional and physical pains feel very familiar.”

A Call For Love

Keith soon guides this group of around twelve people into a meditation where each journeys individually into a regression – going wherever their own subconscious mind takes them.

As I watch and listen, I do not participate – I am feeling so much nausea and pain that I almost stand up and leave – but again, something causes me to tough it out and remain right where I am … discomfort and all.

Around 9:00 p.m., as Keith continues to guide what turns into a very long session, a few things he says trigger me to go deeper into my own experience.

“If I am feeling the pain of my child at what intuitively feels like one-to-three years old,” I ask myself, “what would I be doing then, if I were actually feeling like I do right now?”

“I would be screaming my head off in pain,” I ponder the obvious answer. “It would not be a temper tantrum, but it would be even more emotional and painful. The pain would be caused and heightened by the fact that I was also inhaling the emotions of everyone around me.”

“I need to provide love for that child.” I suddenly consider a new course of action.

Shocking Emotions

As I meditate and try to imagine myself sending love to this screaming little inner child, I cannot do it. The thought triggers feelings of revulsion. To my shock, I feel deep anger at this child for screaming so much.

I feel hopeless, powerless to help that child. I am frustrated. I hate the screaming, and I do not know how to stop it. I want to help, but the little brat just keeps screaming for no reason. As I try to love, I feel only deep anger, judgment, and exasperated frustration.

“Shut the f@ck up you screaming ninny!” The insane words pop into my head. “If you want to cry, I’ll give you a reason to cry.”

“I hate that child,” I ponder in confusion. “He is a terrible crybaby … STOP CRYING!!!”

These emotions shock me. No matter how hard I try to focus, I cannot love this terrified screaming child. He does not deserve love. He is NOT loveable.

The intensity of the hatred frightens me. I realize that this anger and hatred is something I have been carrying around inside of me – literally despising myself for having been such an out-of-control and emotionally struggling little boy.

Time For Me

“Higher Energies,” I beg in meditation, “please help me in releasing this anger, hatred, and loathing.”

Gradually, as I sit quietly, repeatedly asking Higher Energies to assist me, I begin to feel the strongest portions of this angry emotional charge start to fade. Finally, at around 9:30 p.m. when Keith finishes up with the group, he walks across the room to where I have isolated myself, sits down in front of me, and speaks.

“All righty then,” Keith smiles. “Let’s work with you a little bit.”

Tears stream lightly down my cheeks. I feel so deeply grateful for Keith’s compassion. I had half expected him to be angry with me for how I have gotten so hopelessly lost in my own process, not assisting him in any way.

Soon, however, Keith realizes that it is “light’s out” for the retreat center … and that there are many people trying to sleep in a loft directly above where we are. Seconds later, Keith and I walk down to the “palapa” together – the large outdoor patio area with a circular thatched roof. I shine a light in the darkness while Keith quickly sets up his tent, perhaps ten feet from my own. Finally, when we are all settled in, we continue our little discussion in a very unique way … we talk back and forth between tents.

Cellular Memories

As I rest in my sleeping bag, I cry a lot as Keith explains to me a process that often happens when people change their diet and do a physical detoxification, telling me that as their body cleanses, that people frequently regress, one by one, back through every illness they ever had, right to the beginning.

“It is cellular memories being undone.” Keith explains to me as I whimper while listening from afar.

“Brenda, this is the same thing you are doing,” Keith guides me, “but you are processing cellular memories at an emotional and energetic level instead of a physical level. You are methodically going back and re-experiencing all of your childhood emotions as part of a very beautifully planned process.”

Keith explains that I need to do this – that I set it up this way, so that in the process of re-experiencing, releasing, and healing all of these past experiences, that I could also get the learning that I need in order to be able to eventually help others.

“It is necessary for you to go back in time to re-experience all of these pains.” Keith reassures me.

A Flow Of Memories

“I had no idea that I had hurt this much as a child.” I express my agony to Keith. “But as I feel these pains, all of my inner knowing tells me that this is real and absolutely accurate. I remember the intense crying … crying for no reason … the physical pains in my abdomen … and my mother, in her frustration, trying to help me stop crying.”

“All of my intuitions tell me that this pain was heightened by being an empath, by feeling the emotions of others around me, and believing that their emotions were my own.” I ponder out loud.

As these words flow through my mouth, I recall frequent, actual memories, of crying uncontrollably with my mother sitting beside me on my bed – begging me to stop crying. I cannot match these memories with an actual age, but I know they were very early in my life.

Methodically Moving Memories

“You are methodically and gradually being taken through all of the experiences that you need to remember and release.” Keith repeats to help me understand. “The pain you are feeling is the portion of the release that needs to pass through the conscious mind. You need to feel it in order to release it.”

“The key is to allow,” Keith guides me, “to not identify with the pains and emotions as being in the present day … to not attach to them and to instead simply allow them to flow through you … and to eventually reach a state where you can be blasé about it.”

As Keith shares this guidance, I remember how, during empath trainings Keith often tells people they might feel the pains of others, but that they will be so unattached that they will be able to say, “Ha, I ate worse than that when I was eight years old.”

“What you have been doing is methodically going through reservoirs of suppressed cellular memories,” Keith again clarifies. “They are moving out of you as you feel them. Allow the process. Don’t resist it or judge it.”

Empathically Internalized Emotions

“Brenda,” Keith then surprises me. “The emotions you felt tonight when trying to send love to your child were not your own emotions. You were experiencing the emotions and feelings of your parents … their sense of helplessness and frustration at not being able to get you to stop crying … their feeling like bad parents, not knowing how to help you … and their unexpressed anger and judgment at your screaming for no reason.”

“You picked up those emotions from them empathically,” Keith teaches me, “and you are also re-experiencing their emotions as part of your education.”

“I felt and said some of those same things to my own children when they would be crying, screaming, or throwing tantrums for no reason.” I confess to Keith. “I think I took those emotions in so deeply, believing them to be my own, internalizing my anger at children who cry without reason, that I passed the energy along as my own. I was impatient and frustrated when they cried. I didn’t know what to do and judged myself as a bad parent for feeling that way.”

Keith then confirms that I needed to experience this emotional frustration in multiple ways, first inhaling it from others as a child, then believing it to be my own (turned into self-hatred), and later playing that same role as a parent.

A Unique Session

It has been the most unique counseling session I have ever had … with Keith and I camping on a hard concrete surface, in the open air under a thatched roof, just a short stone’s throw from the calm waters of Lake Atitlan. Lightning bugs sparkled in the darkness, as Keith and I called out to each other, back and forth through the mesh windows of our respective tents.

After thanking Keith for taking the time to help me understand what is happening to me, I close my eyes and attempt to sleep. Emotionally, I am now quite relaxed, and the physical pains inside my abdomen are no longer obviously apparent. But when I touch my belly, I recoil with pain as I experience physical pains that feel like tender bruises all over my solar plexus. Even though this is all energetic pain, the physical effects continue to feel as if I am now experiencing the bruising of having been literally kicked by a steel-toed boot.

But somehow, I manage to get a little bit of sleep, even with a tender belly and uncomfortable pads on hard ground.

Allow And Detach

Tuesday morning, I isolate myself in a hammock chair with a beautiful view of Lake Atitlan. I literally feel as if I am recovering from PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) – continuing to feel emotionally traumatized, still being deeply contemplative and confused. I am actually feeling somewhat afraid to participate in another chocolate ceremony, one that is only hours away.

“How long does this type of childhood regression last?” I beg Keith for guidance when he stops to briefly chat with me.

“Usually, not much beyond the time it takes for you to allow and detach.” Keith reassures me.

I internalize Keith’s reassuring words, but the emotions continue to agonizingly flow through me. I am doing everything I can to simply be the observer of these emotions, to not attach to them, to not identify them as being me in the present-day. But these emotions are so overwhelming, that remaining in such an observer-state requires intense focus and concentration.

Intense Emotional Insights

Later, as I walk up near the kitchen, I see Keith standing nearby and again engage him in a short conversation. I am still struggling, as these childhood emotions rage through me with the power of river rapids.

“I’m still feeling like crying,” I express my confusion to Keith. “Is it OK to cry, or do I need to use the light?”

“Brenda,” Keith responds with compassion, “crying helps you feel the emotions so that you can release them. Of course it is OK to cry.”

What Keith says next, blows me away.

“Brenda,” Keith tears up, “I’ve been feeling your emotions all morning. It is strong enough to make ME cry.”

“You mean you can feel what I am feeling?” I ask with shock.

“Yes,” Keith responds with teary eyes, “I have been feeling your emotions very strongly.”

Wow, I had no idea Keith was so deeply sensitive to the emotions that he feels flowing in others.

Not Numb But Healed

Soon, I isolate myself on the boat dock. With notebook and pen in hand, I meditate and take notes regarding this crazy emotional journey. I am trying so hard to love that tiny child that was me … and I am feeling so much more compassion for how I now realize I had struggled as a tiny child … but I still recognize that some self-hatred and self-judgment remain inside me.

Once I finish scribbling all memories of the previous twenty-four hours, I set my notebook aside. I now want to cry, I want to release all of this pent-up emotion, but I am feeling so shut down and numb, that no more tears will flow.

“Brenda, numb is not the right word.” Keith later tells me as I share how my emotions have temporarily dried up. “Try ‘gone’ or ‘healed’ … more layers may come and go … but you are not numb … those emotions you were feeling earlier have been released.”

Journey Into Terror

Our second ceremony at the retreat center finally starts around noon. For the first half of our time together, I am fine, feeling reserved but stable. Feeling guided to help, I do a little energy work on a man who is struggling with some deep emotion-based nausea. As I do so, I feel my own heart shut down, and I myself begin to feel the nausea.

“Keith,” I ask for guidance, “I am feeling his emotion in my own body, and as I do so I feel tiny energetic shocks in my finger tips.”

Keith encourages me to continue what I am doing. I sit with this man for a while, but I finally disconnect and go sit by myself.

“I’m shutting down again,” I whisper to Keith as he briefly checks in with me. “Am I regressing again? … What am I doing?”

“Just allow and trust your process.” Keith reassures me.

As I sit, isolated and alone, I watch Keith continue to work with the others. I ponder how playing with my empath and energy abilities is increasingly causing me to panic and withdraw.

“I’m getting closer and closer to the pain of that empathic child,” I silently reflect, “and the closer I get, the more terrified I get – terrified of reconnecting with that actual pain in the present day.”

Too Much Fear

I remain silently disconnected from the group for the remainder of the ceremony. At the end, as Keith continues to engage one woman in a deep discussion, I finally feel strong enough to go over to sit with them.

“I feel your beautiful heart,” this deeply psychic woman shares with me. “But I am also connected to your deep pain.”

“Open your heart,” Keith guides this woman, “and allow Brenda to bring what she needs through you.”

As I sink into this shared process, imagining myself receiving channeled divine love through this woman, I briefly cry, feeling deeply vulnerable – but then the tears dry up and the emotions fade. I feel as if I shut the process down.

“Did what I needed come through?” I later ask Keith. “All I felt was the fear and my tears as I released some of that fear.”

“That WAS your process,” Keith reassures me. “When there is too much fear to do something, you do what you can and then try again another day. You processed some of that fear, which is exactly what you needed to do. Trust that your process is perfect. Quit trying to figure it out with your head.”

Emotional Burnout

Tuesday evening, as darkness settles in, Keith and I, along with a few other women, hire a private boat to glide us safely across the waters of Lake Atitlan, back to San Marcos. I am so exhausted, physically and emotionally, that I go to bed early and sleep late.

As I get ready for a chocolate ceremony on Wednesday, I am on the edge of emotional and inner-processing burnout. Today will be my seventh ceremony in the last eight days – with one of those being a one-on-one session.

Right before walking out to Keith’s house, I decide to pull a few more Tarot cards – all of which seem particularly appropriate for where I am at in my process. The last one that I pull, however, makes me nervous. I have once again pulled the three of swords – a card showing three swords (representing mind) stabbing a heart – a card that, to me, always indicates tough emotions ahead.

Perturbed Palliative Perceptions

I start feeling fairly centered and present in the chocolate ceremony, but do not feel connected with very much energy during the “Glow Meditation”.

When a few people begin to sink into emotions, I watch as Paul jumps to the rescue.

I want to be quite clear here in admitting that I am projecting quite strongly, that I am only describing my process, my perceptions, and my perturbed projections here. Paul is actually quite beautifully engaged in his own process – one that seems to dovetail amazingly well in driving all of my triggers in the direction of insanity.

When I observe Paul, what I perceive is a huge ego, running around the porch being the superman that saves everyone from their emotional pains – doing so beautifully in a palliative (symptom removing) way. But in my opinion, this is also shortchanging people, energetically releasing them from their emotions, so that they don’t need to actually heal the root cause. And I perceive this whole scene as frantically distracting, making it so people on one side of the porch (where Paul is working) cannot focus and pay attention to the true wisdom and healing being done on the other side through Keith’s guidance.

I watch my perceptions of Paul’s behavior with annoyed detachment. It drives me crazy, but I am aware that what is being triggered are my own inner issues – and I refrain from judging Paul himself.

Trapped Between Worlds

“What do you want to do today?” Keith eventually begins to work with me.

“I don’t know,” I respond with confusion. “I’m feeling very disconnected from everything, feeling like an alien in a place where I do not fit in, where I do not want to be, where everything in that place is driving me crazy.”

“Brenda,” Keith quickly shares, “I’m being guided to tell you that you have now regressed to that time in your childhood when you were in the process of being shut down … when much of your magic was shut down … when your magical world was no longer accessible to you … but when you did not yet fit into the world of your culture and family.”

“I felt hopeless and powerless,” I begin to explore the insights of this regression with Keith. “I was an alien in a place where I no longer wanted to be. I was powerless to do anything about it. I desperately wanted to run away and cry. I could not go back to the magic, and I did not want to go forward.”

On The Other Side

“You are being taken on a beautiful journey,” Keith takes a few minutes to guide me. “You need to allow and detach … allowing this experience to flow through you without making it real … without identifying with it as your now.”

Keith explains that if I attach to it, that I will manifest additional experiences to go through this again and again until I do let it diffuse with no more attachment, no identification, no making it real in the present day. He emphasizes that I am the adult, feeling these childhood emotions in the present, but that these are NOT my present-day emotions.

“You are literally feeling the emotions of this child.” Keith confidently reassures me. “Allow them to come up. You are being taken on a journey of undoing what was done … and your magical self lies on the other side of these experiences.”

Desperate Disempowering Assistance

I sit quietly meditating in this guidance, and begin to observe the ceremony from this new point of view. As I continue to observe what I perceive are Paul’s chaos-causing actions, I remain completely detached from judging Paul, instead being the observer of all of the emotions that are raging inside me as a result. I actually feel gratitude for how Paul is unknowingly acting in a stage play, showing me my deeper issues – issues that are agonizingly confusing and annoying to my side of this mutual script.

When I observe Paul, I repeatedly sink into a painful visual of my mother, running around my life with a metaphorical squirt bottle, squirting me with “fixing” whenever she saw the slightest thing out of place in my life. She was faithfully and desperately attempting to keep me on the straight and narrow path to God as she knew Him.

But as I observe these surging emotions of resentment toward my beautiful loving mother for trying to constantly help me, I am bombarded with the feeling that each time she corrected me, she was actually saying that “something was wrong with me” … “that she could see what was wrong” … “that my way was defective” … “and that she was going to correct it for me so that I will not stray.”

I know my mother’s intentions were pure, but I now realize, more than ever, that every time she “helped me be better”, that I actually felt increasingly disempowered by her involvement.

Confusing Childhood Chaos

Finally, I am so overwhelmed by this regression into confusing childhood chaos that I can handle no more triggering observation. Giving up in painful panic, I spread out a few cushions, pull a scarf over my shoulders, and curl up on my side – attempting to completely zone out for a while.

I literally become that detached child, alone and confused, not wanting to be here as I listen to what, in my current state, I perceive as chaos on the porch.

“I wish I could just run away.” I ponder in deep frustration. “I don’t want to be here in this new-age zoo.”

I know this is metaphorical, that these are the emotions of me as a child, not wanting to be in the culture of my family and religion, feeling detached, disconnected, judgmental, and just pretending to fit in … but I am getting LOST in this pain.

Eventually, as a friend briefly walks by and gently touches the side of my head with one hand and my thigh with the other, a few waves of tears gush out. As the tears flow, I feel a longing to be loved by a genuine love that actually understands me – not just a love that loves my mask and costume. But alas, a sense of knowing (remember I am still regressing) tells me that this love is something I cannot have.

Internalized Parental Projections

As my emotions again pass, being back in a state of detached numbness, I eventually sit up and lean back against the wall. I soon watch as Paul begins to engage in some emotional processing.

Crazy judgments suddenly surface in my heart. Almost immediately, I recognize these new judgments as being self-judgments that I internalized from my parents during my own shutting down.

“No, Keith, don’t help him,” these past voices rage in my head. “He is a troublemaker. He is faking it. He doesn’t deserve your assistance.”

I am shocked by the anger, resentment, and frustration that I suddenly feel toward Paul. Intuitively, I recognize that I am feeling all of the emotions that I can only imagine my parents must have felt toward me. I was also a magical little boy, who could simply not fit into the system that was being thrust upon me.

This Movie Sucks

As I struggle to maintain observer status, to not get lost in this new wave of childhood emotion, I remember something Keith had shared with me earlier.

“Brenda, see this all as a movie,” Keith had guided me. “Don’t get lost in the movie. The movie is designed to suck you into the emotions … but remember that it is a movie … you need to feel the emotions, while as best you can not buying into or identifying with them as your now.”

I mostly succeed in detaching from the projected movie around me … but not getting sucked into my childhood emotions and projections remains quite difficult.

I am shocked, and my heart warms, when at one point in his process, while Keith is on the other side of the porch, Paul actually asks for my advice on how to do something. This gesture helps me to somewhat soften and relax.

Chaos, Disconnection, And Confusion

As the ceremony concludes, I remain behind to chat with Keith. I am deeply consumed by my triggers and projections, desperately attempting to separate projection from reality.

In the process of sharing frustrations with Keith regarding how I perceived the ceremony today – of how I am projecting an environment in which I literally do not want to participate – I step over the limit with my projected complaints.

“Brenda,” Keith firmly scolds me, “you, in your space of confusion and judgment can turn a beautiful situation into one that was only chaos, disconnection, and confusion.”

Keith then reminds me that some beautiful and powerful work took place today, and that both he and Paul received many beautiful hugs and expressions of gratitude for the amazing ceremony.

“You are being taken on a journey,” Keith lovingly reminds me. “It is a journey that was set up by your Higher Self – a journey that is forcing you to let go of more of your need for rational mind.”

Begging For More

“I am so confused.” I share with Keith. “I spent my whole life desperately needing recipes for everything I would do. Can’t you give me some type of guidance as to how I can proceed?”

Keith tells me “no”, that he cannot give me guidance, that it cannot be done with the mind.

“Can’t you give me metaphorical guidance of how to address this without the mind?” I stubbornly refuse to accept no for an answer. “I am lost in my confusion and need for help.”

“No, I can’t,” Keith lovingly refuses to enable my childhood behavior, “You just need to allow this process to unfold.”

“But I’m terrified of getting lost in it.” I beg for something to hang onto. “I am barely not being lost in it now. I do not want to do this kicking and screaming … but it seems that this is what I am doing. I need to know how to do it an easier way.”

Several times, Keith has previously told me that I am regressing – that I simply need to allow, remain unattached, and not identify with the emotions as they flow and release through me – but in this painful confusion I cannot seem to see this beautiful advice as being enough.

I am really pathetically lost right now, projecting my God/separation drama all over Keith, refusing to take responsibility, refusing to remember and understand all of the beautiful guidance that has already been given me. I am in a very painful process, and it appears I need to learn this lesson the hard way.

Helpless Anger

Seconds later, Paul returns to the porch, and I believe there is no point in continuing my discussion with him there. I begin to say goodnight to Keith as I walk toward him to give him a hug.

“Hold on for a minute while I do this on my computer.” Keith asks me to wait.

“Brenda, this is your own creation,” Keith lovingly reminds me as we resume our discussion. “Everyone’s process is unique and different, and your Higher Self set this up for you to face one of your most core issues. It cannot be done with the mind and I cannot tell you how to get the answers. Your Higher Self set it up, and you have to find the answers yourself.

“F@ck my Higher Self,” I raise both middle fingers into the air with helpless, frustrated anger. “I feel so lost and alone. I just want to go crawl into a hole and pout … to be angry … and to throw a pity-party tantrum.”

“Brenda,” Keith reminds me, “these are not your emotions. These are the emotions of that child.”

Helplessly Lost

“Yeah,” I smile in frustration. “I realize that. That is actually what I was remembering and thinking about when I said that. That little child was angry at God, angry at Higher Self, and angry at anyone representing any type of Higher Energies. He was deeply angry that he was no longer getting the help he desperately needed.”

“Brenda,” Keith guides me, “you have been lost and alone your whole life. What is happening now is your own unique process to help you get out of being lost and alone. I cannot tell you what to do because I do not know what you need to do. It is YOUR process. You have to find your own way through it.”

“I am feeling so pissed.” I express to Keith. “I want help. I know I am deep in my God drama, angry at a God that would abandon a child to such a state of helpless confusion, of being lost and alone, not providing any answers on how to proceed. I know I am being taken back there to that state of anger at God … to the hopelessness of not knowing how to survive … of being turned into a people pleaser that could not think for myself … a people pleaser that could only win praise and acceptance by obeying rules.”

“I remembered in meditation this morning,” I share new understanding with Keith, “that I was so pathetically helpless and lacking in confidence as a child, that when asked to prepare a short talk for church, or to do any type of book report or paper for school, that I would throw a fit of confusion, demanding that my mother help me. I knew that I could not do it right on my own. I was terrified of what people would think of me if I did it wrong.”

“I had no creativity left in me,” I continue, “I thought I was stupid, that my ideas would be judged, that I wouldn’t fit in … WOW … I was terrified of the opinions of others, needing someone I trusted to do things for me.”

An Abandoned Alien

Finally, when I sense that my conversation with Keith is over, I turn around and walk away. I do not say goodnight. I do not give Keith or Paul a hug. I just walk home.

I am so lost in this childhood helplessness and anger, that even though I know I am projecting and simply regressing into past emotion, I cannot separate from it.

I feel pissed … I feel alone … I feel confused … and I feel deeply angry at a God that will not give me help that I can understand (projected onto Keith).

I want answers … and right now, the rational mind is all I know and trust … but everyone tells me that the mind is not the tool.

Interestingly enough, I realize that this is the exact opposite of what happened to me as a child. At the time of my shutdown and programming, I was connected to Higher Energies and the world of right-brained intuition – and I could not understand the crazy logic that was repeatedly used to invalidate what I knew. Through normal, loving, religious, and cultural conditioning, I was robbed of that divine connection and left as an alien in a world in which I did not know how to function.

Now, I remain somewhat disconnected from the Higher Energies, and it feels as if my Higher Self is robbing me of the use of my mind. I literally feel like an alien that no longer fits in either world. My old world is toast … and my new world remains just out of reach … and I am judging my self-created reality with a self-deprecating fury.

A Common Thread

As I flounder around my apartment, I am all worked up and emotionally pouting, continuing to feel indignant anger at God for not helping me in my darkest hour. I feel deeply alone and not trusting the flow … even though I continue to recognize that I am right in the middle of it. I feel as if I am being drug by the flow, kicking and screaming, because I do not know how to do this any other way.

As I browse my emails before bed, I find a quote from the book “Oneness” channeled by Rasha. The quote speaks to me. Following are those beautiful words:

“Time, as you know it to be, is moving forward at an unprecedented pace. Events appear to be crammed into an improbably short space, and at times seem to be happening simultaneously which, in fact, they are. It is crucial, as your rendezvous with Oneness draws you ever nearer, that you come to completion with the life themes that tether you to this reality. It is crucial that you attain a state of detachment from the energy charges that have magnetized you, habitually, throughout this lifetime. It is crucial that you recognize the common thread in the web of dramas that you have woven – that continue to ensnare you. And it is crucial that you allow yourself the grace of your own humanness in responding to these recurring situations – and love yourself for it.”

I love this quote. As I sit back to ponder the words, I also notice the Tarot cards that I pulled this morning. They are so perfect for where I am at – using spiritual fighting to try to regain my magic, using my rational-mind to massage emotions, resulting in a broken heart that is indeed being stabbed by swords from the mind.

“I need to back off a little,” I ponder the Oneness quote. “I am going to allow myself a little grace of humanness, loving myself, allowing, and surrendering to the flow. I am going to allow these childhood emotions to flow through me, to allow the charges to dissipate, and to not identify with them in the present. This childhood emotion is indeed a very common thread throughout my life’s biggest struggles.”

Painful Preparations

My web of dramas stem from my childhood helplessness in the creative side … demanding recipes and blue ribbons … feeling utter panic and confusion if I am expected to be creative without an external being holding my hand or doing it for me.

“God and divine love are inside of me,” I ponder, “but I cannot trust this knowledge because it was slammed, shammed, and psychically severed from me.

Near the end of my conversation with Keith this evening, while standing in his kitchen, he had congratulated me for no longer manifesting these patterns and inner issues as trauma and drama in the outside world … pointing out that I am instead manifesting it on the porch as a stage play with which I am mostly not identifying.

“That is still quite painful,” Keith had pointed out to me, “but far less painful than if you were playing it out in actual relationships with loved ones, etc…”

“This is preparing you to learn how to allow emotions to run through you without attachment and identification,” Keith had lovingly shared profound wisdom with me. “When you master doing this with your own present-life emotions, you will then be ready to work with past-life and parallel-dimension emotions – doing so in a way that you won’t identify with them and freak out by getting lost in them.”

In fact, several times today, Keith had told me I was actually doing quite well. In response, I had wanted to flip him off because I felt like such a loser for feeling what I was feeling.

A River Runs Through Me

As I struggle to fall asleep on Wednesday evening, my emotions remain extremely agitated. I am trying to allow my child’s emotions to run through me, but they continue to overwhelm me with confusion, anger, and doubt.

I struggle to not identify with these childhood emotions, to remember that they are not my reality today … but are instead the excruciating reality that I experienced as a child during my shutdown process.

I continue to be in the middle of this agonizing pain, wondering if I really trust anything that I thought I believed. It shocks me how overwhelmingly painful these emotions are … and if this is how much I am going to feel it, I cannot fathom trying to allow the emotions from parallel or past selves from other dimensions to run through me.

Then my mind wanders back to Keith’s tear-filled eyes on Tuesday morning as he told me that my emotions were so strong that he was having a hard time not crying.

“And if I further open my magic, am I going to feel the emotions of others that strongly too?” I ponder with fright. “I am not really sure if I like this very much.”

… to be continued …

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved

These dysfunctional voices that try to pull me back into past pains are strong. Just a few minutes ago, as I meditatively asked my little inner children to carry those voices over to a metaphorical angelic garbage can in my subconscious mind, intense emotions erupted.

It is Monday, April 2, 2012, as I sit to write. Events in the past few days have taken me deep into new understandings about my God/separation drama – understandings that were facilitated by writing and integrating my last blog. Part of me can giggle and laugh with delight about the beautiful unfolding wisdom. Another part of me continues to kick and scream as it throws inner temper tantrums. It is an interesting journey to say the least.

I am half-tempted to skip out of time, to write about present day events, but my heart is now guiding me back in time – to a beautiful day in mid-February when I was also dealing with unfolding insights related to this God/separation drama. It is Friday, February 17, 2012.

Subconscious Relays

After a beautiful relaxed morning, I find myself in a very common spot – sitting cross-legged on a large red pillow, next to the kitchen door on the magical porch of a man that many call “The Chocolate Shaman”. Eighteen of us crowd this tiny covered patio area.

During the familiar “Glow Meditation”, I first focus on finding a big grin in my heart – but very soon I am back in a relay race with my little inner children, Sharon and Bobby, recreating the same imaginative subconscious play that I had done extensively in a private session with Keith, just yesterday.

I observe as Sharon rips a page out of a small rulebook – a book of rules that anchor me to a logical left-brained world. Then Bobby runs over to Higher Self and brings back a piece of my pushed-out magic. Next, my two tiny children switch places and repeat the process with Bobby ripping out the page.

Being almost oblivious to the world, I continue this imaginative relay in my subconscious until Keith taps me on the foot and asks me to participate in the process of another.

Deep Heart Sharing

Keith asks me to stare into the eyes of the young woman with whom he is working. She is a beautiful soul, deeply connected to the energies. For more than twenty minutes, the two of us stare into each other’s eyes with unbroken vulnerability on both sides. Throughout the process, Keith shares beautiful insights and guidance with this young woman.

In my role, I feel as if I am channeling Higher Energy through me and into her heart – while simultaneously receiving channeled love through her as well. I find this to be a beautiful glimpse into divine love on a very personal and vulnerable scale.

After a while, following inner guidance, I lock eyes with a young man across the porch and do the very same thing with him. I love the deep heart sharing.

A Frightened Two-Year-Old

Later, as he sets the stage to conduct a group empath training, Keith guides everyone to step it up a notch, to pull up the metaphorical floorboards and go deeper into their processes, another level down.

As I listen to Keith’s guidance I am already feeling a great deal of beautiful loving energy, but I also have some density in my abdomen that I have been simply observing with love and trust.

As I go deeper, I suddenly catch an intuitive visual of my two-year-old inner child, Sharon, hiding and crying behind a rock. I am not sure which aspect of Sharon that I am working with, but I get a strong feeling that this aspect of Sharon is in the process of being shut down, and that she is frightened, terrified, and scared of what is happening to her.

While I am not actually seeing an image, the intuitive picture is unusually vivid in my mind.

Please Show Me

As Keith progresses with the training, I feel much more trust in my imagination, and decide to “fake it till I make it” as I practice being an empath – asking little Sharon to participate with me. As I continue, I have the distinct impression that it is a magical and healed aspect of Sharon that is now working with me, holding space for me, showing me that we can do this.

I feel a little physical pressure on my throat and collarbone during the first phase where we repeat patterns of actually “eating” the emotional density and stuffing it away in our body. I find this experience to be as traumatic as ever when my abdomen begins to fill with density. I cannot wait for this exercise to end.

During the second stage, where we practice one way of moving emotional density from a positive polarity – letting the density move through us without touching us – I again feel the usual panic as I ask my little girl to run the density through me, to show me how it is done. As I do this, I again feel deeply connected to that little two-year-old hiding behind the rock – hiding from her magic – terrified to do this exercise.

“Please,” I ask Sharon with love, “show me how to do this. You do know how, and you know that this is safe because we are working in partnership with a Higher Being.”

While I do not feel a lot of energy movement in a physical way, I do experience very nice energy in my upper chakras while sensing mildly increased physical churning and pulsing in my abdomen.

Real Imagined Magic

During the third phase, I again remain quite blocked as far as energy sensitivity goes, but am delighted by visual metaphors that suddenly grace me.

Memories of a very vivid lucid dream flood my awareness – a dream that took place during my Sun Course at Las Piramides Del Ka during the summer of 2010. It was a dream in which I encountered a daughter-in-law at a town across Lake Atitlan – a dream in which strange events caused me to realize that I was dreaming – but I managed to remain in the dream while becoming fully conscious and aware. In that dream, my daughter-in-law had used a slingshot to launch a large shipping container into the air, sending it across the lake to deliver merchandise to other villages. Realizing it was a dream, I had playfully used my magical abilities to cause the container to explode – and then, as the contents fell into the lake, I had used my “will” to cause them to all rise back up into the container as I sent it back on its way. Needless to say, my daughter-in-law had been shocked by what I did.

“Sharon,” I giggle during this stage of the empath training, “why don’t we do the same thing, being lucid and wide awake in our imagination?”

For the next ten minutes, Sharon and I silently giggle as we imagine the emotional density that is coming toward us. Using our magic, we send that density out across the lake. When it is far enough away, we cause it to explode into a column of light that goes both up and down – up to the angels and down to the lake/Mother earth. This is actually quite fun, and for the first time during an empath training, I am really beginning to believe it is happening.

It is real magic, done with the imagination and heart connection. I am filled with a sense of confident knowing that it is actually happening. I cannot justify this with my logical mind, but I know it. At least for now, I feel a new sense of trust – trusting the perceptions that I cannot justify with logic – perceptions that were invalidated when I was young.

After the training is complete, while the group practices assisting two different women, I spend another half hour engaged in this delightful and magical visualization.

Childhood Innocence, Childhood Shame

Soon, I begin to observe a beautiful and innocent little girl across the porch. This young girl, brought by her mother, is about the same age that I am visualizing Sharon – right around two years old.

As I observe this young girl’s activity on the porch I begin to imagine myself as tiny little Bobby, just reaching the age of being able to talk, taking baths with my older sister in our family bathtub. At this stage, I am beginning to notice body parts, and I intuitively feel myself innocently questioning my mother as to why I am different from my sister, curiously asking what is wrong with me.

While I have no physical memory of such an incident, the intuitive visualization is very strong, and I deeply feel the painful emotions as my mother explains that I am a little boy, not a little girl. I feel shameful for having asked the question – as if I took on the emotions of my mothers panic and concerns for my having asked. I feel the confusion about my body – I already don’t like what I am being told – but I realize at a very young age that this is something that will get me in trouble if I talk about it – that I just need to accept it.

I am so alone, so curious, with no answers. As I ponder this scene, and other scenes from actual early memories at around age six or seven, I find myself feeling, in an unattached way, the guilt, shame, self-hatred, and self-loathing. I now recall clear and emotional memories, from as early as age six, of being deeply curious, wishing I did not have to be a boy.

I continue to observe this beautiful little two-year-old girl, using her as a focal point for helping me access my own playful innocence at such a tender age – for exploring the emotions that surface in waves as I feel myself longing to be in her little-girl body.

Gender Journeying

As I dig deeply, I can find no memory of ever liking my male appendage. I always felt somewhat shameful for having that weird thing between my legs, wondering what it was for – feeling an inexpressible and obsessive curiosity about girls and what it would be like to be able to be one. I believed myself to be a shameful pervert for having such feelings – desperately trying to suppress such curiosity – not then understanding that my feelings were actually a genuine longing of true self-expression.

After about fifteen minutes of losing myself in observing and feeling the pure innocence of this beautiful little girl, of wishing that I was her, Keith glances in my direction with a glowing look of recognition in his eyes. As I momentarily lock eyes with Keith, I am quite filled and overflowing with the awareness that the agitation that is right now boiling in my solar plexus is sexual and body self-hatred of having grown up with a male body. I know that these are real childhood emotions flowing through me – real buried painful feelings – not fabricated adult thinking.

“I would say it is more self-loathing.” Keith responds after I fill him in, in a generic way, regarding my unexpected meditative journey.

Utilizing Anger

“Brenda,” Keith guides me. “Imagine how an empathic child would feel, when any innocent comments to mommy were verbally resisted and corrected with strong emotional energies of shame and desperation to correct a deviant little child.”

The answer is so obvious. I would easily detect by her words and emotions that something was wrong with me, that what I had talked about was shameful, forbidden, evil, dirty, and something that could not be discussed. Of course, I would be filled with self-loathing.

As this meditation continues, I am starting to feel exceedingly angry. I want to push this self-loathing, shame, guilt, and self-hatred out of me.

“What is the proper way to utilize this anger?” I again beg Keith for guidance.

“Access that anger to give you an inner power to activate your life force to flow through you.” Keith responds. “As you do this, whatever is ready to move will move.”

Energetic Movements

My heart chakra remains filled with loving energy throughout this process, but as I meditate deeper, attempting to use my anger to initiate the flow of life force, I feel several sharp pains, one at the exact center of my third-eye chakra, and several in the base of my lower abdomen, on both sides.

“Should I try to pull this energy out by its roots?” I ask a question based on a few past experiences regarding second chakra energy.

“Not yet,” Keith guides me. “Let the process develop more before you do anything like that.”

I focus on bringing in love, simply surrendering to the divine love, asking it to show me what it would do – simply inviting and allowing. I also ask the light to show me what, if anything, it would do with my third-eye pains.

As I do this, I feel the pains soften, and intuitively know that something is flowing. The top of my head begins to tingle as I feel unfamiliar energy movements in that area. Soon, I experience the sensation of energy moving down a narrow channel in the front of my body, starting at the crown, and stopping somewhere in the upper solar plexus region. I feel very pleasant vibrations in all of my chakras.

Give It Back

“Keith,” I soon express new insights, “I am getting that these pains in my lower abdomen are not densities at all … that they are resistance to allowing my love and life force to flow in this region. I am so shut down that the resistance hurts. I have hated this sexuality part of me. I loathed it, not allowing any loving energy down there.”

“Good, Brenda.” Keith congratulates my awareness.

“I’m just allowing with no attachment,” I continue rambling, “trying to relax and trust that what needs to happen will happen … nothing more nothing less.”

Soon, a young woman interrupts the discussion to talk about rape issues, and about how she has taken on her mother’s rape victim energy as well.

“Give that energy back to your mother and others,” Keith guides this young woman. “It is theirs to deal with, not yours. By keeping it in you, it is being held away from them so that they cannot process and release it. You might release it together with her Higher Essence, or she may need to do it by herself.”

“Can I do this too?” I jump in as the conversation inspires my process. “I’m getting that my shame and self-loathing over sexuality need to go back to those who gave it to me.”

“Yes, Brenda,” Keith responds, “but it is not just your mother.”

“Yeah,” I quickly add, “I get that it was also my father, family, and all of my religious culture combined.”

A Disintegrating Rock

I feel myself just going through the motions as I engage in this process, starting out by simply faking it till I make it, just trusting, watching, and learning.

Soon, with my third eye chakra hurting sharply once again, a new intuition pops vividly into my mind.

“Keith,” I express with mild giggles, “the rock that my two-year-old Sharon was hiding behind is the block to my magic – a metaphorical rock that is plugging up my third-eye chakra.”

“Ask the light to show you what it would do.” Keith guides.

Soon, after expressing my intent and feeling no attachment, I intuitively sense that the rock is glowing brightly. Over time, it gradually begins to come apart, disintegrating and crumbling.

“Good, Brenda,” Keith congratulates me. “You are now in a space of trusting the flow, not judging yourself for what does or does not happen … very nice … you have come a long way from where you used to be.”

Progressing Perfectly

This mediation is a beautiful one – one of non-attachment, simply trusting that divine love will do all the work, and that I just need to cooperate as guided, and trust when I am waiting for more guidance.

Several times, something inside reminds me that I am trying to “do” something. Each time I catch myself, I again relax, surrender, and invite more divine loving energy into my heart. Every time I relax and surrender, I feel more energy movement. My third eye feels more relaxed and my abdomen, while still prickly with tiny pains, begins to move with more lightness and relaxation. Intuitively I know that things are progressing perfectly, and feel no judgment regarding what should or should not be happening with my process. I am being given a beautiful lesson in trusting the flow.

Something Magical

In the midst of this beautiful process, I am overwhelmed by the heat flowing through my body.

“Is it suddenly hotter here on the porch, or is this MY energy?” I ask Keith with a feeling of confused shock.

“Brenda,” Keith smiles back at me, “you are flowing so much life force right now that it is getting very hot.”

I am literally sweating from all of the energy. I take off my scarf and dry my underarms while flapping my shirt attempting to get some airflow on my sweat-dripping body. This intense energetic heat goes on for more than a half hour.

In this midst of this profound flow, I visualize my inner children using the inside of my belly as one of those blow-up playgrounds, imagining them jumping and bouncing off the cushioned walls. This seems to mix things up even more, allowing a little joy into the process. I want to giggle – and I do smile a little – but I sill cannot allow myself to belly laugh. Eventually, I get the strange sensation that Bobby and Sharon are using my bladder for a trampoline, and make a silly joke about that fact as I get up for a quick comfort break.

It is fun to feel a little humor. I am feeling much lighter, and energies are definitely flowing, but my rational mind has no idea what or why – only that something very magical is happening.

Gleefully Glowing

“Congratulations on some beautiful work today.” Keith shares near the end of ceremony. “I think you have probably done enough for today.”

“I’m not doing anything,” I giggle back, “except for bringing in love and observing. This is not work. It is perfect.”

As I am about to leave, three new people show up with a desire to drink chocolate, so I opt to remain for a while to hold space. Soon, Keith guides them in a “Glow Meditation”.

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts, “I’m being guided to tell you that if you pay attention, you will understand more about why you don’t glow like you want to.”

“Am I not doing it fully?” I question with surprise. “I thought I WAS bringing in Higher Energies and glowing.”

“Just pay attention and listen and observe.” Keith counsels.

“I’ve never fully glowed before,” I answer as the insights flow, “because I’ve never fully allowed Higher Energies to come in. The more I allow, the more I feel real self-love and divine energies flowing.”

At least for now, I am very much out of my head and into Higher Energies – plus I am trusting my imagination. As I surrender ever deeper, I feel even more energy vibrating in my crown, a mild peaceful presence on my forehead, and very nice energy in my throat and heart. My abdomen continues to agitate with mild pains, but it is pleasant at the same time. I can tell that things are happening, churning, and dissolving into pieces as the vibrations continue.

It is probably the best “Glow Meditation” I have ever had.

Penetrating Noisy Nuisance

Saturday, after a delightful day of writing about magical mutants, I treat my inner children to a burger and fries before finishing my blog and retiring for some much-needed sleep.

But it seems I am facing a new challenge. I have lovingly learned to handle almost any type of noise in San Marcos (and they are at times extremely loud) – any type except noisy rude neighbors, that is. There is a small studio apartment adjacent to my living room wall. The walls are thick concrete, but there are cracks near the wooden ceiling, with no insulation of any type. Any talking at slightly louder-than-normal volume seems to echo through the ceiling, between rooms, as if we were occupying the same space.

As several people loudly party and drink next door, they loose all inhibition – laughing, playing loud music, and talking as if they are yelling across a noisy nightclub. The whole experience has me remembering a repeating pattern – that of family camping trips – and of many times in Mexico and Belize when I was overwhelmed by the noises of loud partying people.

“I wonder what the lesson for me is?” I ponder as I struggle to accept and ignore this penetrating noisy nuisance.

Even at 1:30 a.m. on Sunday morning, the noise is continuing so loudly that earplugs give me very little relief. Eventually, I manage to doze off a tiny bit. But agitated energy flows through my body – so much so, that the rest I do get is very broken and restless.

Further Out Of the Box

Sunday morning, I am exhausted as I crawl out of bed shortly after 6:00 a.m. – the energy in my body remains so agitated that attempts at further sleep seem futile. I focus on meditating, attempting to find non-attachment to the idea of neighborly noise. I realize that noisy neighbors have always triggered a sense of self-righteous anger in me – a feeling of “how dare they be so rude and do this to me”.

As I ponder, I know that I need to let go of emotional attachment – to release the sensation of being personally attacked by their rudeness. Based on the language being spoken, I know that they are from a Spanish-speaking country. I know from extensive experience, that in the Latin-American cultures I have visited, noise seems to be a normal part of everyday living – that people make whatever noise they want to make – that others simply ignore it as being normal, make their own noise, and get on with their lives.

“I’ll just quit being angry and instead make my own noise – but doing so without any negative or revengeful intent.” I resolve to try a new experiment – an experiment to push me further out of the box of my own cultural conditioning.

Embracing Noise Patterns

At first I am quite quiet … but as I notice the noise levels again beginning to heighten next door, I stop being careful about my own noise.

“I can’t be noisy,” I temporarily fight myself, “it is being extremely rude if I am noisy.”

Soon, however, I turn on some music, to normal volume, just loud enough to mask the noises next door. Then, a little later, I watch a movie on my computer, without earplugs – nothing blaringly loud, but at normal volume. I note that when I get noisy, they quiet down a little, and I respond by doing the same, turning my volume down to match theirs. I sense that they are realizing how thin the walls actually are, and are trying to compensate and be polite. I feel a sense of appreciation for their perceived behavior.

I find myself feeling extremely uncomfortable, beating myself up at how rude I am being – but every time I check in with my motives, I realize that I am not being rude or vindictive, but am simply stepping further out of my own cultural box, embracing the noise patterns of my neighbors.

What I Need

“How are you doing today?” Keith asks when I step into his kitchen before the Sunday afternoon chocolate ceremony.

“Exhausted,” I respond, quickly filling him in on my nighttime saga.

“Last night was part of your process.” Keith smiles at me, reassuring me that all is well.

I already know he is right. I am totally learning that everything in my life, on or off Keith’s magical porch, seems to synchronously line up as part of a perfectly created reality – always giving me exactly what I need next, whether I want it or not.

Group Observations

As the ceremony progresses, I observe with detachment as Paul runs around doing lots of energy work on others. I perceive his behavior as extremely hyperactive, as seeking to catch people even before they go into emotional release, heading them off by helping them flow tears and move energy long before the need is obvious to me. It seems that every time I watch him, something inside me is deeply triggered, reminding me of how much I hate what I perceive as fixing.

But I do not know if Paul is fixing or not. I do not even care or judge Paul’s behavior. I trust that if something needs to be said, that Keith will intervene. Instead, I simply observe Paul’s behavior, noting that what I see continues to cause me to painfully look within at my own dysfunctions.

Meanwhile, I see Paul’s behavior as such overkill, that I respond by doing nothing except sit still, filling my heart with love while imagining myself holding a powerful energy space for the group as a whole – energetically connecting to each person, while simultaneously observing the pains in my solar plexus.

I note that I feel some loving power in my heart – but it is weak, nowhere near full strength.

Giving is Receiving

Soon, I watch as a woman feels guided to do some energy work on a man seated near to me. As she soon begins to sob, I intuitively know that she is taking in painful emotions from this man, bringing them inside of her.

“Disconnect from him,” I lean over and whisper. “You are taking his pain into you. Now release all of the energy that you took in and give it to me.”

For about ten minutes, I hold her hand and lightly touch her heart and high heart areas, occasionally touching her forehead. I am still not very sensitive to the actual flow of energies, but intuitively, I know that I am acting as an empath, and that she is letting me handle those painful densities for her.

“Now bring in the light.” I guide her when I sense that she is done releasing.

Soon she is giggling with joy … and working with her has also filled me with new loving energy.

Energetic Metaphors

When things settle, I again focus on holding a powerful group space. I feel no motivation to run around the porch, as Paul does, unless something guides me inside to do so.

Late in the ceremony, Keith is guided to conduct another empath training for those in the group who tend to sponge the emotions of others and take them inside of themselves. As has been happening nearly every ceremony, the training today triggers an increasing level of inner fear and energetic agitation. Something inside is terrified to open this up.

During the training, I feel a very sharp pain at the “nail-in-my-heart” spot … but I also note that the location seems to be an inch or two higher than I remember it.

“This pain is resistance to bringing in higher energies to my heart.” I share my intuitions with Keith at an appropriate moment. “And I am realizing that this spot is slightly moving around from one ceremony to the next. Right now it is higher than usual.”

“That is to let you know that it is energetic and not physical.” Keith coaches me.

Phase three of the training leaves me whimpering as I sense the crazy fearful emotions that are running around inside of me. For the next half hour, I sit holding my heart, lightly crying as I allow these fears and pains to flow without judgment.

A Loving Gesture

“OK, is there anyone else that needs help?” Keith asks as the ceremony nears completion.

I am still whimpering quietly, holding my heart, desperately wanting assistance. But I am also somewhat lost in my God/separation drama, feeling as if Keith is ignoring me today – believing that my need is obvious and that I should not have to ask – believing that if I do ask that Keith will not really help me anyway – believing that he will make me find my own answer, and I do not feel capable of doing that right now.

It will be weeks before I fully understand the nature of these games that I am playing with Higher Energies, and that I am projecting onto Keith.

“I think Brenda is ready for something,” Paul speaks up.

I am blown away by Paul’s loving gesture.

An Energetic Oven

“I feel like something is ready to open further.” I share with Keith when he then turns to me. “But I am dealing with lots of pains and feeling emotions of terror. Can you help me or guide me?”

Without answering my question, Keith turns and talks to a man across the porch.

“Come over here and feel this.” Keith guides the man to place his hands above my crown chakra, just an inch or two above my head.

As I continue to sit in my terror and pains, I notice that the man acts totally amazed.

“Wow, I can feel a lot of warm energy flowing through her crown.” The man tells Keith.

I almost feel as if Keith is teasing me when he continues to ignore my situation, and instead calls multiple people over, one after the other, asking them to each take turns feeling the powerful heat coming out of my crown.

As this scene unfolds, I notice that I too am feeling extremely hot, just as I was on Friday. The intense heat forces me to remove my sweatshirt. I am sweating profusely. Meanwhile, the pains in my nail-in-my-heart spot and solar plexus are rapidly intensifying as my terror and emotional discomfort grow ever stronger.

Only one out of about five people tells Keith that he cannot feel the heat coming out of my crown.

“That was to show you that this heat is energetic and not real physical heat.” Keith later tells me in response to that person’s insensitivity to the energy.

A Powerful Flow

Keith asks Paul to read a short paragraph regarding the significance of the seventh chakra (crown chakra) – talking about its powerful connection with spirituality. I feel quite annoyed by this and express that this feels mental and I do not relate to it.

“I don’t want rational-mind descriptions right now,” I beg Keith for his focus, “I want help with my pains and terror.”

“We’re not making fun of you, Brenda.” Keith reassures me. “We’re just pointing out the powerful flow of energy you are bringing through you right now … and this comes from someone who says they cannot bring in the light … this is powerful stuff.”

“Yeah, I can feel the intensity of the heat,” I respond, “but I am still so shut down that I would never have recognized it as a flow of energy.”

Finally, I take everyone seriously, and realize that this is real, that I am indeed running a lot of light energy through me. When I surrender and focus, even with blocked sensitivities, I can indeed feel some energy. I mildly perceive it as a narrow channel of energy flowing down the front of my body, starting at the top of my head, flowing to the bottom of my rib cage, skipping my solar plexus, and then vibrating lightly in the bottom of my abdomen. And my third-eye chakra is tingling as if it is trying to open a little more.

Bring Vs. Allow

Meanwhile, I have continued to whimper lightly throughout this conversation, and Keith has asked three or four young women to sit in a semi-circle in front of me, holding space while I process this emotion.

As I begin to increase awareness of this flow of energy, and as the pains in my “nail-in-my-heart” spot sharply intensify, I begin to involuntarily dry-heave and cough, along with intensified tears. I feel as if my body is attempting to force these heart-chakra pains out through my throat – and I literally feel some of the pain flow out of that sharply aching spot as I do so.

“Brenda,” Keith interrupts lovingly. “The way to move this density, fear, and pain, is to allow the light to do it for you … relax … allow … quit trying to do it yourself. You set this whole situation up to give you a powerful example of the power of allowing.”

“Hold out your hands.” Keith guides me into a familiar metaphor. “In your right hand, hold the concept of ‘bring in the light to help you’ … and in your left hand put the concept of ‘allow’. Sit with them both for a minute and tell me how you feel the subtle difference in the energies of these two hands.”

“The ‘bring in the light’ feels like work,” I respond, “and the ‘allow’ feels like simply trusting the flow, watching, and observing. I want to allow.”

Peaceful Surrender

As I surrender all effort, I sit back on my pillow, relax my muscles, and simply allow. Gradually, I begin to feel an increase in the flow of energy down the front channel that I felt earlier. One by one, the sharp pains subside and disappear, being replaced by calm, relaxing, peaceful vibrations.

And the emotions have vanished too – there are no more signs of that terror and fear that had inexplicably gripped me so strongly.

I sit and bask in this beautiful space until the very end of the ceremony, which lasts for at least another half hour or so.

Ceremonial Wrap-Up

It has been a beautiful ceremony today. I have observed behavior (Paul’s) that would have once triggered me deeply – but I have somehow managed to once again simply ignore it, having no noticeable emotional charge.

And wow, did I ever bring in a lot of energy. As confused as my rational-mind continues to be, I know that my upper chakras are gradually opening more every ceremony – and there is definitely a softening happening in the lower three as well.

The energy I feel is so peaceful that I simply sit on my pillow as people begin to filter out of the ceremony. I feel as if I did not do much other than to focus on my own process, but several people stop to hug me, expressing gratitude for my contribution. One young woman even mentions that she felt as if we were doing the same work together.

I love such feedback. I love knowing that even when I am mostly just doing my own work, that others can share in the energy and find their own wave to ride.

Rehearsed Courage

As the porch mostly clears, I briefly chat with Keith, summarizing my lifelong history with emotional reactions to noisy neighbors.

“Can you give me some advice about how to handle my triggers and emotions regarding noisy neighbors?” I ask Keith for guidance. “I am tired of repeatedly creating a reality where noisy neighbors disturb my peace. How can I respond in a positive way where I can release all of the energetic charges that keep causing me to manifest a repeat of this lesson?”

“Last night was part of your process,” Keith again confirms. “But perhaps another important part of this lesson might be for you to find the courage to express your feelings in a positive way.”

Keith then suggests walking next door, introducing myself, and mentioning something like “You may not know it, because I am a very quiet person, but these walls are paper thin, and I hear everything next door as if it was in my own room.”

“I wanted to do that last night,” I share with Keith. “But there were a couple of really loud men over their, they were drinking, and I did not feel it would be particularly smart for me to talk to them at that time.”

As I walk home, I repeatedly rehearse a loving neighborly speech. I am delighted to discover that no speech is necessary. The neighbors have cleared out, having only spent one night.

Quite Hot

It has been a powerful three days – filled with increasing clarity and insights regarding the use of imagination as a powerful tool in working with magic and the subconscious mind.

On Friday, that imagination connected me with profound insights regarding the emotions of my own inner children – of two different aspects of my two-year-old self – giving me strong intuitive glimpses into the frightening journey of a young child engulfed in the shutdown of magic and sexuality. That same imagination allowed me to heal portions of that magic, using it to access the metaphors of a lucid dream, and using those metaphors to have a very real experience in moving energy.

And the unexpected dessert for that magic was an amazing flow of energy that made me feel so much heat in my body that I could barely tolerate it.

On Saturday, that imagination allowed me to have a great deal of fun connecting to the metaphors as I wrote “A Marvelous Magical Mutant Adventure”.

And On Sunday, that same tool took me deep into the pain and terror of a young child attempting to reopen the magic – taking me on a beautiful adventure of peaceful surrender and allowing – an adventure that once again ended with an amazing flow of magical heat-producing energy throughout my body.

If I say so myself, I have been quite “hot” lately.

Copyright © 2012 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved