A reader has asked me to continue processing “financial stress” publicly because, in her view, a lot of lightworkers share it.
If it’s of general value, I will.
Where I left off in my processing was that, as a result of watching myself while having a small accident, I saw myself misnaming my feeling states.
I dropped a meat product which spilled on the fridge and floor. I immediately felt what I thought of as “stress.” But, as I watched myself react to this accident, I saw that below my “stress” was fear. My stress was not really stress. It was actually fear.
In looking at these things, I’m relaying to you what my thought process was, as I processed what I thought was “stress.” We’re on the awareness path and I’m relaying what I’m aware of.
I also hear again and again in my mind the word “loss.”
For me, what I fear is catastrophic loss, something life-threatening or increasing the danger I may be in, such as my becoming homeless. When I was homeless – once – there was nothing else that I could think of or attend to before finding myself another home.
I had to toss away most of my possessions, rescue my finances somehow, etc. It makes my head spin just remembering what those years were like.
Our homes are our sanctuaries, our castles, our retreats. To be without one and facing the prospect of living in a car – I can think of no worse situation to be in.
When one is walking the financial razor’s edge as many lightworkers are today, a catastrophic loss like that is a huge blow, from which it takes time to recover.
My first reaction to the thought of all this last month was almost to faint. I’m sure I spent most of my week off recovering from … not stress, but fear … after generous help arrived.
So I live – perhaps many of us do – in a very trigger-able state. As long as things are going along, we’re fine. But one massive financial loss would wipe us off the map and reduce us to despair.
We’d surface again, after the Reval, sure enough. And we’d have learned a lot in between that would be valuable later. But until then life would be a tremendous struggle.
Memories Flood in
The memories are starting to flood in now. This is the original traumatic event at the basis of my vasana of “financial stress.”
I received an offer from a friend to stay with her until I could find a room.
My first new home after that was a Single-Room Occupancy (SRO) in the Downtown Eastside, no charge for the bedbugs and cockroaches. That was where this blog was born.
I remember waking up one night with a cockroach scurrying past my nose. It was a long road back from those days.
So there’s fear there, which ordinarily is not there because sufficient funds exist. When there’s a credible prospect of insolvency, the fear comes right back.
That’s a classic vasana, but a really deep one that I haven’t yet gotten to the bottom of. But we do see what the fear is connected to: A fear of catastrophic loss, such as homelessness.
But I keep hearing another word as well, “lack.” That’s a piece of the puzzle that I haven’t yet solved. I imagine it refers to a lack mentality.
Do I have a lack mentality? That’s the next place to go, if we follow our inspiration or guidance.
OK, when I look, I see that I do have a grievance over the way money was used by the patrilineal side of my family.
They wreaked havoc with their money, rather than helping anyone. I’m being right about holding money in the proper regard.
Unbeknownst to me, I’ve been making money wrong all my life and now I find myself in lack: As within, so without.
If I don’t like it, I’d better forgive everyone in the scenario, including myself, for my own sake. Otherwise I’m scuttling my own boat.
Forgiving the Patrilineal Line
Forgiving money brings me right back to forgiving the Father lineage. And I still struggle with that. So, yes, I am indeed stuck. I’m having trouble forgiving my Father’s lineage – as I always do.
But at least now I can identify this strongly-resistant feeling – hatred, really – which arises out of my unfinished business (or vasanas) with my Father’s side of the family.
I know this feeling is the price I pay for not forgiving them. I condemn myself to feel hatred, subterranean of course, for all my life and after. This is the price I pay.
“Alex, the love that you withhold is the pain you carry, lifetime after lifetime,” the Andromedan said to Alex Collier. (1)
It’s so simple.
Where all this has led me, I say to the reader who asked, is into seeing the necessity of forgiveness if I want to offer myself anything other than continuing pain for the rest of my life. Our resistance only brings us a lifetime of pain.
I don’t say that as if the mere seeing of it is a magic bullet or miracle cure. Foraying into the realm of forgiveness of others and self is proving difficult for me. Real slogging. I’m not even completely clear about what’s at risk here that makes it that way. This is unmapped terrain for me.
I’m flashing on being tied down in the crib, so my fear must go back a long way.
So I’m not done here yet in terms of processing financial “stress.” But I do feel a mite lighter. Since the truth will set me free and I feel lighter, I must be going in the right direction.
(1) Somehow I’ll Find My Way Home. A Tribute to Lightworkers.flv. Production by Kees de Graff. Jon and Vangellis recording at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8HC38xupAaY