About Stories... Part VII

Okay, so I said I would explain some more parts. Like why the feeling of being responsible for the destruction of civilization being reflected in the psychic reading was so important. But first, let me come to the present for a little while. In Part I of these stories, I said that I wasn't sure exactly why I was writing about them. I'm starting to get a bit of a picture of what it's all for, but I don't want to reveal it all yet. What I've enjoyed so much so far is seeing other people relating to my stories; the insecurities, the shame, the feeling of procrastination. But also seeing the love underneath it all and the innocence. And some of the people reading, are simply like, "That's not you! I don't know you that way at all!" Thank you for sharing your love so openly with me. The other thing that has happened has been more personal. I'm reliving my life with each story and I too can see the innocence... and I've also been confronted with some unhealed moments in the story. It's not a surprise, really; I'm pretty much baring it all and with more openness comes more surface area for the light to hit. So, that's what's been happening. There's been a feeling of sorrow and mourning, like something is dying, like I'm dying. Not in a morbid way; in a quiet way, like when someone's life flashes in front of their eyes at the point of death, only for me it's happening more slowly, and as far as I know, I've still got plenty of time left here. So... perhaps it's the story, then, that's dying, falling away—and with it, my hair too had to go. It's a wondrous experience. Sometimes all it takes is one comment from someone, perhaps someone that's been idolized, a comment that triggers something so ancient and deep-seated that my whole world comes crashing down. This is what happened yesterday and I couldn't shake it. I couldn't even see what the belief was that was causing so much pain. On the surface, it seemed I was being belittled. It wasn't comfortable at all and I felt completely unsupported. And yet, I've seen this before. An old memory came back, and others too, and the storyline seems to be this: I, in my perfect innocence, baring my heart on my sleeves, am taken down and ridiculed, laughed at. Viciously (in my experience). And then I found the belief: I'm always going to be the laughing stock of everyone; I'm never going to get this. Sound familiar? So I sobbed for a while on a walk and again this morning. And with the help of a true friend, my mind cleared. This was part of an old story. It was good to let the pain be felt—since that hadn't happened until this point. And then came space and laughter. And strength and assertiveness: No, I do not need to listen to that voice anymore (you know which one)! Get thee behind me, satan! Things are moving. After the psychic reading, I did take to heart his instructions. Pray "Not my way, but Your Way" and welcome the pain, make peace with the pain. I've always been afraid of what I would find in the dark, unseen corners of my mind, so I never looked. Like the bad monster under the bed or in the closet; you're not going to look because it will kill you! But during the reading, I received assurance that I was going to be fine. I wasn't going to die, and perhaps not even feel pain, once I made peace with it. The fear of it was more disturbing than the pain itself. So, every day I sat for an hour and eight minutes (the precise number given by the psychic), and just prayed, "Not my way, but Your Way. Not my way, but Your Way. Not my way, but Your Way. Not my way, but Your Way..." And nothing really happened. No revelations or crazy epiphanies. But what did happen is that this prayer, this mantra, snuck its way into every moment outside of that hour and eight minutes as well. It was running in my mind constantly. So, somehow nothing had happened and yet somehow my life had also totally changed—I was learning to feel what it was like to get out of my own way. And I started praying to welcome the pain. I would sit and say in my mind: "I welcome the pain. I want to make peace with the pain. Show me what I need to see." And I meant it. And there was no fear anymore of seeing what might be shown. I believed what the psychic told me and all of a sudden my mind didn't seem like such a scary place anymore. It was so relaxing.

Let it all in

Nothing happened in the moments when I actively invited the pain in except a feeling of acceptance, but almost every day, some opportunity would arise to see something, to feel something I hadn't allowed before because it was too scary and too embarrassing. So, this is how my life has been going. Some days are pure bliss and others have a little hiccup of a memory that needed to be healed still, and the rarer ones are those that include a full-on breakdown because something deep has been brought to the surface. Those days aren't fun, but they are so rewarding and... honestly, I really love them now. I want to see where I still have pain lingering in my mind so it can be released—because if I don't, I will be a slave to a belief and fear that I can't even see. Let's see what is to come next. For now, this feels like all I want to say in this part. As always, thank you for reading. Love, Jutta