Days of Our Lives
Kathleen and I are in Grass Valley, on our way to breakfast at 11 with Wajid in Auburn, on the West Coast Express.
What I’d like to share today is how we can be totally gripped by something that we don’t even know was there. And that something can be a major conditioner on our lives.
I awoke at around 4:30 in the morning, totally consumed with fear. And, with Kathleen’s loving assistance, I passed through a core issue that, when experienced by people in society in its generic form, I think utterly dumbs them down. Let me explain.
The minute I arrived at Tahoe, so to speak, I was presented with a heart-tugging issue. I need to preserve the person’s anonymity so let me just say an attendee was going through one of the deepest issues I’ve ever witnessed and called me at 5 in the morning for assistance.
I mention it because what I saw her go through, I went through at 4:30 this morning (Monday). That’s the relevance of mentioning it.
We then began the Gathering and went through three days of readers of the blog approaching us and saying that they read the blog every day, that the blog was a lifeline, that they had learned so much about spirituality from it, and that they wanted to thank the team that produced it.
I was supremely grateful to hear that, but it also had a totally unforeseen impact on me. It obliged me to open my heart again and again. And by the third day, I was starting to long to be “off” rather than “on,” “offstage” rather than “onstage” – for reasons I could not have commented on.
It climaxed at the final dinner, where I felt I would “pop” if I had to remain as open as I had been for the previous days. I was alarmed at feeling that way. I felt as if I were on the brink of a panic attack. The circumstances seemed to be forcing something up from deep inside of me.
After our last dinner with the gang, Kathleen and I left Lake Tahoe, got as far as Grass Valley and took a room in a motel.
And at 4:30 in the morning, I awoke absolutely convulsed and trembling with fear. Whatever it was that was crying to come up chose the early hours of the morning to make itself known.
There was an incident in my earlier life where my life itself stopped and receiving that much love from people brought me closer and closer to that core issue.
The incident occurred the day in 1968 I examined the Coroner’s Report on my Mother’s death, turned the page and saw a picture of my Mother’s burned-out body after the house fire she died in.
It’d take a page to say why I was looking at the Coroner’s Report but I felt I needed to, that doing so was unavoidable. Let me leave it at that, if you would.
At that moment way back then, I went into shock, as I discovered in the process Kathleen assisted me go through to to re-experience the incident.
My whole body was vibrating with horror and I could particularly feel it on the insides of my arms and at the calf of both feet. Now why would that be?
When I turned the page and saw that picture, I was traumatized and went into shock. And I don’t remember how I drove my car to my then girlfriend’s house and collapsed in grief.
But the only parts of my body I used to get to her house were my arms, which worked the steering wheel and my calves (feet) which worked the clutch, brake and gas. Hence those areas remained working and now were the most intensely gripped by the unprocessed horror.
I saw why so many people of my Mother’s generation walked around in a daze, as if they were dumbed down. The men had been through World War II and had probably seen scores of burned-out bodies and body parts, etc. They probably had no more processed the horror of that than I had.
That horror probably closed them down to the free flow of life and love. Nowadays I think we call it “post-traumatic stress disorder.”
Kathleen led me through a process of release and I allowed the horror to work its way through my body. It took probably twenty minutes to complete and then it was gone.
At some point, I reached a tipping point where enough of the horror had left my body that I could carry on even with the modicum of horror still left.
This feeling of horror was being brought more and more to the surface by people expressing love to me. For me to reciprocate was to talk over top of this deeply-buried emotion. I was getting close and closer to having to acknowledge that something remained that was unprocessed and hidden in my life.
I don’t think I need to say a great deal more. I released myself, with Kathleen’s patient and loving assistance, and, when I did, I felt strong and stable again.
But more to the point, I could receive love without almost going into a panic attack.
Now do I mourn having to pass through events like this? No. This is what we came here to do and this is why we had to endure these tragedies: to demonstrate passing through them and recovering from them for the collective.
I’m now ready for my mission in a way I wasn’t before. And I’m now able to love this angelic being I’m in sacred partnership with in a fulsome way I never could before.
And how timely this is, because we begin today meeting with light workers all up and down the west coast of America. And listening to them, as my generous and supremely-loving (Earthly) Mother would to all who came to her in their pain. My Mother’s gift to all who knew her was her compassionate listening.
Oh, what a release. Oh, how good life looks today!