Flowers and Garbage-Prologue Part Three

Evil was everywhere! Selfishness ruled no matter where I looked--cruelty, fighting, deceit, greed, condemnation, aggrandizing, indifference, thievery, murder, abuse...even everywhere I looked in me.

I questioned my own motivation for anything supposedly good or nice I had ever said or done. Helping people had made me feel good. Did I stay up all night with the people on the bummers because, deep down, it made me feel better about myself? Because it felt good to be needed by strangers and known to be useful in situations other people ran from? Ego! It could be traced back to ego!

My dear son. Did I think I loved him so much just because of that big hole I had in my chest ever since I can remember and I was just trying to fill it up? Had I been worrying about his body and soul, going without sleep, holding vigil over him--was that actually just fulfilling some ego need of mine? To focus on someone else instead of looking into my own dark soul? Yes. That could be true! Did I really, truly love him if I couldn't teach him about this selfish, evil world so he could protect himself and claw out his own corner of it? Or did I just selfishly want to see someone else hang on to ideals and fantasies that I was having a hard time letting go of? Was love just selfish, too? I was nothing but a dark, tattered ego...out for myself...just like everybody else fighting for survival down here. God this was a horrible place! And where was God, anyways? Was there even something beyond us? Was there anything truly good and pure out there?

I remembered hearing about people who gave away their food in the concentration camps. Was that somehow selfish, too? I started reading every personal account I could find on the holocaust--devoured them--searching in true darkness to find an act of unconditional love. Something that was pure goodness. Something where I couldn't uncover a subconscious selfish motivation. Just me. Nothing scientific. Just a personal quest for my own selfish soul's benefit, my own selfish opinion.

I'd read and read. Individuals would recount how a total stranger in the camp would give them food or clothing...or advice on how to survive. They didn't know the person--sometimes never saw them again after the one act of supposed kindness. But, did the person act because others may be watching (motivation for many) who might think better of them? Not really. Most of the inmates thought anything you did to not selfishly survive was crazy foolish! And if it was a soldier trying to whisper to you on arrival--they could be killed for that. Hummm....

I could see a subconscious selfish family line survival thing with giving food to relatives and lovers...but what would be the gain with an absolute stranger, no one watching you, and you are expecting to die? If we are bottom-line truly selfish and evil--what possible gain could there be? What advantage could there possibly be for you to give up something precious to your own selfish survival for a total stranger's?

Love? A spark of unconditional love...of something beyond the horror of this life? Why did it make me cry?

The more I examined it and rolled it over and looked at it from all sides...the brighter it was in the darkness. I believed it was as close to unconditional love as a human can probably get.

And I kept reading and reading...about the people who risked their own lives to hide and save the lives of others...and, most amazing, the ones who forgave their torturers...the murderers of their loved ones. Shining lights in the darkness! I would read and cry...as I am crying now writing this...

...and no matter what is real or isn't about our nature...just knowing these things exist makes my heart swell and my soul lift...I can physically feel it! Goodness! Love! That is as real as evil.

Suddenly I could see little bits of light--like stars in a black sky--everywhere I looked! It really is true...seek and ye shall find. You will find what you are looking for.

The last year had been bleak and hopeless. Had felt dead inside. I didn't want to live like that. It was a miserable existence. My soul had been shriveling away to something hard and dry. Yes, my eyes had been opened to evil, but...I also truly believed in good and love...

So, now what? I had never been good at seeing evil intentions, telling when people were lying to me...or just being able to protect myself, in general. But--I had absolutely had it with the darkness! If you believe in God, you had to believe in the Devil. If I believed in Good and Love--and I believed in Evil and Hate--well, then--enough fence sitting. Now that I knew--down to my core--I had to pick a side.

How could I teach Dagan how to survive and pick goodness and love if I was clueless how to run the nasty maze, myself?

Okay--I picked God/Good/Love and I was ready for battle. Felt tremendously overmatched and under-skilled, but I don't do things half-assed--was fully prepared to die trying. I knew how close I had been to losing my soul. I wasn't giving it up without a fight. And I announced all this to the heavens--to GA (my guardian angel)--to God.

"I am going to do this--with or without your help! I don't know what to do--how to protect myself. I am scared to death. I'm not a really good person, but I will not give up trying to be! If you are really out there--if you even care at all that someone like me is on your side--if you want to help me out--or even just give me a sign--I will wait for you every night before I fall asleep."

And every night I laid in bed and waited...and milled over questions in my mind. How do you know who to trust? How am I supposed to react when people are mean to me? Or I find out they have been lying to me? What about the people who seem to emotionally suck you dry? Should I still be suspicious of everyone? What should I say to Dagan? How to I teach him if I don't know yet? How do I deal with my anger with the people who do bad things? Should I stay away from people as much as possible? How do I protect myself? Do I need a big wall around my heart?.........

I milled and milled...and waited and waited...

Until one night. I was answered!! :):)

Flowers and Garbage-Prologue Part Two

First of all--before I forget:

The Red Rubber Ball.

I was in the kind of relationships where the "loved one" would constantly find fault with me. They'd know just which buttons to push to get me all wrapped up in defending myself against false accusations, insults, lies, and blame.

After the kids went to bed one night, one of these arguments ensued...for several hours. He finally went off to bed...feeling the victor in this endless battle. I felt drained and baffled. How could he not know who I really am? How could he say those things to me? How did I end up, in just a matter of months, in another marriage where I am defending myself all the time and I feel totally misunderstood and alone?

****

I was feeling pretty darn sorry for myself as I curled up on the pantry floor. As he snored, I cried...as silently as I could. With the first marriage, he was so seldom home and we so seldom had conversations that the insults and disgust was spread out infrequently compared to this endless barrage. This was not the man I fell in love with. This was not the man I thought I married. How could I be so foolish and, obviously, not even capable of seeing who they really were?

****

Crying in a ball on the pantry floor I got one of those "instant information" things from GA. I've had them enough times in my life that I know to pay attention. ;)

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I watched this picture of my husband and I fighting. He threw a hard, little, red, rubber ball directly at my chest--hit me, knife sharp, right in the heart--and, when I went to defend myself, I was actually tossing the ball right back into his hands--and he would slam it into my chest again. This was the game.

****

And I wasn't supposed to defend myself anymore. I was supposed to just stand up straight--calmly--with my arms held wide open and let him hit my heart with that red rubber ball...and let it just slide off of me and roll to the floor. Don't play. No matter how much it hurts. Don't play. You know it is not true.

****

So, after that night, that is what I tried to do. I got sucked back in a few times, but the more I refused to play the less effective the game was for him and the easier it became for me to leave my arms wide open. No fun to play alone, I guess. And the clearer it became to me that, by attacking me, that kept the focus off of himself. I didn't have to attack him, in kind. He just felt me withdraw from the game--from him. And soon came the confessions.

****

So that is The Red Rubber Ball concept.

Has come in very handy many times in all sorts of relationships since then--even at work. ;)

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Back to the Prologue...

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It was a dark, dark year...

I still laughed, but I think I must have sounded more like one of those tough, hardened bar maids in the old west. Distant, joyless, sarcastic, defeated by life.

Once again, it was Dagan who changed my perspective. I noticed that I just couldn't teach my young boy the truth. That it was a dog eat dog world, that's it's a horrible place where you can't trust a word anybody says, that everyone is ultimately out for themselves, that we are all selfishly motivated...etc, etc. I couldn't get the words to come out of my mouth and into his ears...

Why? (I can never leave one of my whys alone--LOL!)

Did that mean I didn't really believe it? I loved my son, didn't I? I wanted to protect him. Why couldn't I teach him how to protect himself in this bleak and evil world? Teach him the way it really is out there? What was my selfish motive? It had to be selfish, right?

In the meantime, while these questions were going round in my head, a couple of people who were close to me were so very concerned about me that they finally convinced me to go in for counseling. I sat in her office and told her the facts of my life story (took many visits, as you can imagine--LOL!). But when she was up to speed, I had filled her in on what I had learned from the different experiences, and I wanted to talk about God and good and evil and how do you live down here...religion of any kind was off limits. She decided that I had such an emotionally traumatic life that I had become detached from my emotions and needed to go to a women's counseling group. I disagreed. Told her that when I cry, I cry alone. That I had felt these things and I had already cried about them, examined them, turned them inside out. She did say she'd never had a client who did the self-analyzing and probing that I did (see--not normal), but said there was nothing more she could do for me and sent me off to this woman's group for 12 weeks.

Ten to fourteen women showed up each week to sit in a big circle in our folding chairs. Every week we went around the circle and the women would each tell their stories and crumble into pieces. And if they were close and didn't crumble, the counselor prodded them until they did. Other women would pat them on the back and give them tissues. Judging from the woman in charge, the goal seemed to be to actually re-experience the traumatic event with great emotion and tears. Now, don't get me wrong. This is an excellent and necessary thing for people who have not ever dealt with those events. Some of these women had obviously never had anyone to talk to, had never thought about the whys, had never revisited the events, never pondered, never grappled with their life, you know? My heart went out to them. But I thought we should be focusing much more on the whys and the what to do about it in the future?

It took three weeks to get around the circle to me. My turn. By this time I understood why my original counselor thought I needed to go to this group--thought I wasn't in touch with my emotions. If this is what was "normal"--she was absolutely correct. I was not normal. I do not need or want pity or sympathy. Crying, for myself, is a very personal thing...and being there in this group made me realize that when I do cry (especially for myself) it is soul level crying. Much easier for me to cry for someone else. That is, why I seldom cry over my life and, if I do, it's between me and God, you know? Comes from my "safe place" and that is private. Up to me to choose who to share that with, if anybody.

Needless to say, I was a great disappointment to the tissue ladies and visibly frustrating to the prodding counselor. I have no problem telling anything about my life--and no problem not even being tempted to cry about it as I tell you. They have already settled into my core. Once I have deeply experienced, wallowed, searched, examined, shredded, wailed, evaluated, absorbed, and gleaned everything I can learn from whatever it was--then it is part of my past. Available to me at any time for even deeper knowledge and guidance, but--been there, done that. If I could have talked about what was actually bothering me right then--good and evil and god and life--I may have easily cried. That was present--unresolved--raw. But I discovered, just as in the individual counseling sessions, we were not allowed to talk about anything remotely spiritual or religious.

The group counselor called the individual counselor who called me--to tell me I could come back to her after the group sessions were over. I thought I was going to cry out of frustration!! LOL!

I lasted five weeks in group. Watched and listened as they went around the circle again...nothing new, nothing learned, just reliving the pain--over and over. Discovered during the coffee and cookie sessions afterwards that a lot of these women went from group to group to group and had been going for years!

I thanked both of the counselors. Told them that I learned that my issues were not just about what happened and how I felt. They were all about much deeper whys and were absolutely between me and God.

I decided that if I was going to teach Dagan the truth, to the best of my ability, then I needed a better idea what it was. I had to closely examine evil--hatred--selfishness...which led me on a hunt for unconditional love...

To be continued...

Flowers and Garbage-Prologue Part One

I woke up thinking about Flowers and Garbage so I figured I would just dedicate myself today to trying to put this into words again. Not an easy task, as it is a concept that spreads out in all directions like a drop of water on a still pond. That's why I was curious to see what I had written down almost 30 years ago because, since then, flowers and garbage has never left me and has actually grown over the years to cover light and darkness. (The above sunrise this morning seemed quite appropriate--LOL!) Don't worry. I promise I won't overdo, so this could end up being told in parts for all I know. I won't know until my timer and I really get into this. ;)

Okay, I need to start by telling you the backstory of how my arrogant, self-pitying, demanding, stubborn self was given this whole concept in the first place. ;)

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I had already had my heart broken more than once, been raped, robbed, lied to, cheated on, back-stabbed, homeless, seen miracles, cheated death with Dagan, and always managed to survive and land on my feet without my spirit being broken. I still loved life, had faith in people, and had managed to retain my optimism and my belief in goodness and in love conquering all...kind of by the skin of my teeth through sheer determination, despite evidence to the contrary--ROFL! My tattered flower child soul had managed to survive.

My relationship with Dagan's father was oddly sterile, unhealthy, one-sided, and heart-breaking. We were together and apart, together and apart--before we were married, during the marriage, and after the marriage. He'd want me, tell me everything I wanted to hear, get me back, lose interest, and discard me--and later Dagan, too. (Dagan was expected to die, after all, so he didn't want to get attached to a son he was going to lose.)

It was Dagan who changed my perspective. Freezing me out and insulting me was one thing, but hurting my baby boy was another thing altogether. I left Dagan's dad whenDagan was two and didn't go back to him.

A few years go by and lots of things happen. I am more and more confused by people--and how to remain a good, open, honest person when some people seemed to take that as an open invitation to attack. But most people were nice, life went on, and I assumed I would figure it out one day if I just tried hard enough and didn't give up.

I had been in PWP (Parents Without Partners) for a couple of years when this guy I had seen around for a long time kind of zeroed in on me. He seemed too good to be true. (Red flag, people!) Was divorced and had custody of his two boys--so must have been a great guy to have custody, right? (I had no idea you could frighten an ex-wife into handing over a child.) Long story short--he told me toward the end of our brief one-year marriage that he had been watching me and listening to me for over a year at PWP functions and knew exactly what to tell me--what I wanted to hear. He cut way back on his drinking and even quit to "get me". After we were married he went back to steady drinking, secretly. Confessing all this, he honestly believed that I would forgive him and stay.

Stay with a man who (within six months of our marriage) was like Jekyll and Hyde, who beat his oldest son, who screamed in my face, smashed things when he was angry, who threatened to shoot me, who refused to get help for his confessed perpetual drinking, whose devoted 9-yr old attack dog put his muscular doberman body between us and growled at his master when he threatened me? I don't think so. It's one thing to leave me shaking and trembling while the kids slept, but nobody messes with my Dagan. This was escalating quickly. I saw the blood and bruises on his own son when he slumped back into the house after his dad "taught him a lesson". I knew eventually it would be me...it would be Dagan (he was just seven years old).

Nobody hits me. Nobody messes with my son.

I secretly borrowed the money, found an apartment, had Dagan staying elsewhere, and broke the news that I wanted a divorce and was moving out. He kicked and beat the dog out of the house, spittle sprayed on my face, furniture flew, but I didn't flinch or back down. (GA gave me the "red rubber ball" vision that helped me so much--explain later.) He threatened to shoot me...in tears, to shoot himself. I learned that when it comes to my soul...I'd rather be dead than give it away.

The divorce was volatile, to say the least. He'd go from begging me to come back, to threatening and stalking me. I was moving things in a Pacer (had just learned to drive that year at 30) and needed him to help me move the bigger furniture. He'd bring over one thing at a time to drag it out. Give me things. Ask for them back (including the used Pacer). I'd never argue--bring whatever back the next day while he was at work (including the car) and then he'd call and tell me to take whatever again. (Even yarn plant hangers!?)

Guess who started coming around telling me how much he'd changed in the past five years and wanting to be a shoulder for me to cry on? Yup! And guess who was gullible enough to believe him? Yup! Frying pan into the fire.

Several months later I was over at Dagan's dad's house washing clothes, running a bit later than usual, and the phone rang. When I answered this young girl was really upset and demanded to know who the hell I was. His ex-wife. Click. Suddenly memories of other young girls (waitresses from work) and other odd things kind of fell into place...and I decided to hell with trust and scruples...and went thru his house. I found love letters from this girl...who dotted her "i"s with hearts. Took them with me and left.

That night I left Dagan with my sister and drove to his house to confront him...threw the letters in his face! And you know what he was upset about? He absolutely could not believe that I had gone through his things--was shocked! He knew me that well. Had been so confident I would never break my own moral code that he let me come over and wash clothes by myself at his house for months. He informed me that he was bored with me, anyways. I was no challenge because I believed anything anybody told me. "You have sucker written right across your forehead." He laughed. I cried.

I broke.

My soul cracked.

I had always told myself that if people really knew they were hurting other people they probably wouldn't do or say what they did. They are just self-involved or misguided or damaged, as we all are to some degree. I'd make excuses. I'd forgive. Sometimes with gritted teeth, but I'd forgive, right? But he had known me better than anyone. Knew the hell I had just endured with my second marriage. He had hurt me deliberately. With malice and cruelty--and for sport, apparently.

I had looked evil in the smiling face. Could find no good...no excuses...no forgiveness.

I was destroyed. Stricken to the core. Devastated. I laid in bed and couldn't move for two days. Overwhelmed with the bleakness. Immobilized by fear. How do I live in this world? How do I function? How can I protect myself? How can I protect Dagan? I have just been a human target with a big neon arrow over my head...with "sucker" on my forehead...and big sign on my chest shouting "foolish flower child soul--strike here".

I saw evil everywhere I looked--in some form, on some level or another--including my own dark side I had been battling all my life.

I gave up.

I became bitter. Hard. Sarcastic. I didn't trust anybody. It was a dog eat dog world. I had just been too naive and blind to see it.

People who were close to me were very worried about me. Please! This isn't you! You're not like this!

How the hell do you know?

People had told me over the years--you have your head in the clouds--you're just weird--you think too much--you're not being realistic--normal people aren't like that--you're not like other people...

Well, maybe I wasn't!

But you get your heart ripped out and your teeth kicked in enough times and you finally wise up to how things really are in this world.

It was a dark, dark year.

To be continued......

Me, GA, and SC-Part 6: Soul Comfort

Okay--it's New Year's Eve morning and this is the final installment. :)

You'd think I'd remember the date on something as monumental as this, but I don't. I'm sure I have it written down somewhere in my "Angel Books" (small spiral notebooks where I thought on paper to GA about all this stuff--which I definitely am glad I didn't destroy and think I should go back and read now). Anyways, the years I did energy work mostly were from 1993 to 1999 when I moved up here to Fargo-Moorhead--and very infrequently the last two of those years due to the hours I put in at the senior building working two jobs.

I'm guessing this was somewhere in 1995:

The hypnotherapist, Gary, and I had worked out a trade. I was hoping to get more information through hypnosis. Gary did hypnosis sessions with me and then I did some energy work with him.

I found that I could use Healing Touch methods to work my way around the person, but then when I got back to their heads I always felt compelled to stay there. Had this strong need to hold their head in my hands--and even got to where I had a specific placement of my fingers cupping the sides of their head with thumbs near their crown that just felt right. People said they could feel energy coming down their body from their head and many people dozed off--hehe! I had occasionally been feeling more of that zappy energy when I worked on people--that tingly feeling I got coming down into the top of my head and out my hands.

Gary usually scheduled me as his last client so that I could work on him after he did the hypnosis session with me and we had no time constraints. We'd pull his big comfortable hypnosis lounger chair out into the room so that I could make my way around the lounger and eventually sit in a hardback chair behind his head. We had already done this a couple of times previously, so we kind of had a routine.

I'd worked my way around his body, had settled into the chair, and was holding his head as he lay prone in the lounger. Everything was normal, but I remember I did feel more energy in my hands the whole time before I got to his head.

After a couple of minutes something started to happen to me. The tingling sensation washed strongly down over my entire body and I had this feeling more was coming. I remember I kind of sucked in my breath and was actually frightened for a moment. The unknown, you know?! Get ready--GA popped into my head--and I automatically started this rapid mouth/nose breathing thing I'd never done in my life--and felt like I was almost lifted up ram-rod straight in that chair. Open your heart. I quit resisting it at all--handed myself over--trusting GA...and this tremendous force of vibrating energy came down through the top of my head, bolted me to the spot, and quite literally took my breath away.

I couldn't move--my hands, my feet, my body--and I could feel my hands vibrating on the sides of Gary's head. The energy came in waves--down into the top of my head and out my hands. Tears streamed down my face. I don't even know how to describe the experience very well in words. Was like having this pure god-love passing through my body. Total peace, joy, love, forgiveness... Awe--no, there's not a big enough word for how that vibrating energy felt flowing through me.

After about 10 minutes the waves subsided and my hands slowly stopped vibrating. I felt crazy wonderful--like floating with joy! Gary had listened to my sudden panting and how I stopped just as suddenly and felt my hands start to vibrate. He had just kept quiet and let the energy flow through him. Listened to me tell him afterwards what happened to me. Neither of us knew exactly what had happened, but knew it was a good thing. :)

I thought this intense energy occurrence was probably a one-time thing, you know? But then later on it happened again when I was working on somebody else! And then again. I asked the ladies in the Women's Group, but none of them had heard of anything like it.

[Aside: The women asked me to see if it might happen with one of them at one of our meetings. To my surprise--it happened. Jill, the really visual one who did long-distance healing on Dagan, said she saw this huge pillar of white light come down from above me that enveloped my entire body and also the person I was working on!?]

The intense vibrating energy would happen randomly and very infrequently. Never happened with the same person twice. I had no control over who or when. If I tried to force it to happen--the energy actually dropped. Like GA indicated in the first place--I had to get out of the way. My ego cannot be involved--at all--like in a crisis. That energy passes through me--like a super straw--but it's none of my business, you know? It is not mine to control or direct. True--who am I to think I could know what a particular soul needs? Just like with the people on the bummers--and how I trusted that I would be guided. Not my doing. Faith. (Honestly--I would probably screw it up if my head consciously got involved--ROFL!)

GA gave me a kind of image one time of there being layers and layers of energy--from deep inside a person's body and spreading outward--very far, actually. A person may have physical, intellectual, or emotional issues--but all those obstacles or wounds or blockages or whatever you want to call them--they are all chosen to be carried by that soul--sometimes for many lifetimes. They can choose to learn, accept, and release them, too. Free will. And since we don't know what particular soul lesson is being learned, we don't know what obstacles that individual needs to learn to overcome. Or when divine elimination of an obstacle may be the very source of knowledge for that particular soul. (God can do anything.)

This gift of free will is a double-edged sword. We can be our own worst enemy. When we don't have to be. We can choose to cling to our particular dark spots or obstacles and carry them with us. When, in fact, each of us is a shining, pure, vibrational note of soul energy. One unique note in God's orchestral symphony.

This godforce energy felt too--well--holy for me to be calling it "bunny stuff" anymore. Good grief! That was like making light of something that felt so precious, you know? It was actually GA who gave me the term "soul comfort" to describe it. Perfect!

Well, looking back, I would probably guess that what I came to call the "full blown soul comfort" only happened maybe a dozen times altogether. The last time was a while before I moved up here in 1999.

[Aside: I bought my very first computer in 1998. When I was supposed to pick a screen name--and back then they told people not to use their own names--just to be clear on this, it was GA who wanted me to use soulcomfort. That just seemed sooo arrogant and was extremely uncomfortable to me. I couldn't decide on another name--kind of argued in my head, like we do, over this for a day or two. (I only had a couple hours a day online available to me back then-on call and only one phone line.) What GA does--he just keeps popping something into my head--over and over and over. Very annoying when you are trying to work. I finally relented. (Figured I could change it later, but get him off my case--hehe!) Turned out--over the years--I have grown comfortable with it. But now that I have told you all this story--maybe not so much anymore.]

Well, all of this long tale was actually leading somewhere. GA gave me new "information" mid-December. I am supposed to learn how to do the full blown Soul Comfort here--by myself. Just send it outward.

Say what?! (He's been really quiet for the better part of a decade! Then, out of the clear blue sky he hits me with this!?)

It's for you, too--he tells me.

That struck to the very heart of one of my major core issues. Not feeling worthy. Makes me cry to even talk about this. I've been getting from GA that, for it to work the very best way, I have to include the straw itself--allowing and absorbing that energy, too.

I have been wrestling with this for the last two weeks. Feels like a lifetime ago that I was doing energy work--over 11 years now. Truth--GA wanted me to write about all of this for all these days and be done by today--New Year's Eve. I got that loud and clear after Dagan and Leah and I had Sacred Circle on the 21st. Probably because I needed to let this sink in and I told Daganand Leah I planned to start trying to learn how to do this at my usual New Year's Eve ceremony I'd be doing by myself. (Can check other years on my blog.)

As I told you--it is shocking how well I have been physically doing despite sitting at the computer all these hours--for all these days! (Maybe I am already accepting some of that energy??) And I know one big reason why he wanted me to write about this. When I write--I kind of go back there, you know? The writing has turned out to be almost like spiritual prep time--ROFL!

I'm sure I'll have more to say along the line, but now you are all caught up. 2011 is the year for Soul Comfort. Since it took me a long time (1-2 years?) to build up to being able to handle the intensity of that energy before, I am not expecting to reach that point for quite a while--but I will tell you all about it if and when it happens. :):)

Tonight: I will gather up all my crystals and such, like I always do. Since we just had Sacred Circle and did the angel cards and burning bowl--I think I will just write in my brand new spiritual journal. And then I am going to light a candle, turn on my Music To Disappear In CD (yes, I have it on CD now--wore out a couple cassettes--hehe!), sit quietly, and hand myself over.

Wish me luck! :)

Happy, happy, happy new year!!!

Me, GA, and SC-Part 5: Energy Work

Let's start out with a little giggle this morning. Truth be told--this is who I've been sleeping with for the past 17 years.

The "bunny stuff" bunny. He doesn't look too much the worse for wear for sleeping cuddled under my chin lo these many years. He had a big red ribbon around his neck when he was new but that got in the way and was removed posthaste. Oddly, he has no name. I, who name sooo many inanimate objects, have always just called him "the bunny stuff bunny". He's been fine with that. :)

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Okay--practicing on people.

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I really didn't know what to do. Kept "getting" to think about mother's and babies--and how mother's send energy to their babies without even knowing it. A love energy. How I knew to keep people who were upset (myself included) away from Dagan when he was an infant in the neo-natal unit--to surround him with positive energy. People send energy without knowing it--all the time--positive, negative, neutral.

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Well, all I could think of was to sit across from somebody--either cross-legged on the floor or seated in chairs--and hold hands. (I felt like I wanted to put my hands on people's heads, but that seemed a bit forward for a Minnesotan, ya know.) We'd try to send energy and see if we could feel anything. Naturally I started with very close friends, Dagan, and the man I was still living with at the time. We'd put on Music To Disappear In and sit quietly holding hands. Some people said they could feel a little something. Sometimes I could feel a little of that tingling down my arms like I got when I was zapped. Nothing too exciting or definite, to be perfectly honest. But it was pleasant and meditative.

****

Found that if I stood up and the person was in the chair--then I felt more of that tingling sensation. Seemed more "right" for some reason. I was kind of surprised that people volunteered (I've always been a talker) from the pet shop where I worked and there were a few other people--relatives or friends of people I had done "bunny stuff" with. I started hearing about "energy work", of course. You know how when you move in a new direction, suddenly you hear what you need to hear? People would tell me that the "bunny stuff" must be energy work.

****

To be honest, trying to remember back--well, I'm not sure about the order of things with the energy work. There was so much else going on in my life at the time, too. My relationship ended, I tried to stay in a place that was too expensive for me (we had a lease), I got my fingers in that pressure roller at the factory (crushed the bones in two fingertips and tore the fleshy part of the one almost off), moved to a cheaper apartment in Osseo, the muscles shredded in my wrist from compensating for the finger accident about a year or so later (lack of grip and had to lift 100 pound+ rolls of paper), eventually they let me go from my job (after they re-injured my wrist 4 times-no union-either I did what they said or I'd be fired with no workman's comp-didn't care that the doctors said I couldn't do the work-sent me to different ones till I got one who said it was all in my head, etc), had to file bankruptcy, Dagancollapsed at the driving range (heart failure-had surgery to save his life-but invalid-wheelchair-could barely walk), I was supposed to be looking for work (Workman's comp was threatening to cut me off), but Dagan needed 24 hour care, experimental surgery at University of Minnesota, Dagan made it back to college up here in Moorhead, and I was suddenly offered a position (off the record by my comp job lady, because it had no pay) as a live-in emergency response person in an elderly complex (didn't have to lift anybody because not allowed to for insurance reasons). Makes me tired just to write all that down--hehe!

****

Anyways, during all these life happenings (a couple of years worth)...there was lots of energy stuff going on, too. I remember using visualization on my torn finger-imagining it looking like the other hand (it does and has feeling, too!). They made me wrap it and go clean and scrap machines since I couldn't run mine one-handed--and got a raging infection from it being wrapped in plastic and being around 100 or so degrees by the glue machines. Medications weren't helping-doctor was talking about having to cut it open again and drain it (awwwkk!)--so I tried to think about kind of imagining it draining (and it went down). And I used a kind of meditation to deal with the pain level.

****

When the factory folk were trying to force me to leave the job (so they wouldn't have to pay me unemployment, either)--they had re-injured me so many times that my whole arm was really bad up to my arm pit and in a sling so they finally quit trying to force me to use my bad arm. BUT--they still made me come to work and made everybody else do my work for me. *sigh* All I could do was turn my machine off and on--other rewinders had to come and do all the physical work (90% of the job) and yet they were counting my output as a worker--so this effected our shift's bonuses! I worked the night shift. We used to illegally play radios on the night shift. They knew this and ignored it. But suddenly they actually had office people pop in during the night to make sure we weren't listening to the radio--or doing any of the other things we did for the ten minutes while our rolls were finally rewinding. So-no music, no reading, and no writing letters (me, of course). So all of us were punished on the whole shift because of me. I felt just horrible about it. Luckily people liked me. They knew I wasn't faking anything and that I'd be on the street if I had no job and the company was just trying to get out of paying me anything. What a wonderful group of people!!

****

Anyways- *deep breath*-what better opportunity to learn how to meditate and be in the present moment. I had all night, every shift, for over three monthsbefore they finally relented and let me go. Thanks to them, tho, I learned a lot of things about energy and meditation, mind over matter, focus, sending positive energy (to all those wonderful people!)...lots of things.

****

Along the line over those couple of years I took levels one and two in Reiki. I was searching for some kind of actual energy work that felt right for me. Reikididn't. Becoming a "master" was a long, very expensive, secretive process. I believed that positive energy was something that should be open and shared--shouted from the rooftops, actually. :)

****

My friend, Lynnette, found out about a Healing Touch seminar. She's a nurse and this was one of the things she could attend for recertification. We went together. Healing Touch was awesome! It's an umbrella term for several modalities and they talked about how everyone can learn this and sharing the knowledge, etc. Ahhh! I attended all the classes for Level One and for Level Two at St. Catherine's college. (Finished Level Two certification while I lived at the senior complex.)

****

Oh--and I went to classes called "Talk To Your Angels" (how could I resist!) and the lady running the class invited me to a Woman's Spiritual Group that rotated meeting at the women's homes. I felt totally out of my comfort zone, but I went. And I met these wonderful ladies! Some of them were energy workers, psychics, long distance healers, etc. Some were visual, audio,kinesthetic (learned a lot of new terms and of books to read). Had no idea why I was invited, but I was thrilled to be there. They disbanded years ago and I moved away from Minneapolis, but I still miss that group of women.

****

When Dagan ended up an invalid for those months after his surgery at Children's--well, one of the things was that he'd had a blood clot land in a lung (thank God-watched him having a stroke as it passed through his brain). Couldn't dissolve it--even with a tube into his lung dripping directly onto the clot. They said he had permanent lung damage to the bottom third of his lung. Plus, when he sat upright he lost blood pressure and oxygen because he's always had a tendency in that direction and the pressure had been so high in his heart when they did the Fontan re-do after he collapsed in heart failure that they had to put a hole between the top two chambers.

****

The experimental surgery at the University of Minnesota was to go in via acatherization procedure (wire up the groin into the heart) and attempt to close the hole. They'd release a patch on one side of the hole and then a patch on the other side. (Commonly done now and called something else.) But they weren't hopeful about the pressure in his heart because it had always been on the high side to begin with and there were no guarantees that they could leave the patch in. They'd have to try it and wait and see about the pressure and remove it right away if it was too high. The new procedure was called "angel wings". Need I say more. Dagan and I both thought he should go for it. :):)

****

Meanwhile--the ladies in the Woman's Spiritual Group told me that had been doing long-distance healing on Dagan. Several of them had come over when he was still in Children's and we did a healing energy circle standing around his bed. The one lady, Jill, had been working on him a lot on her own, too, over those months and she told me he was better and that his lung was healed. Well, when Dagan went for the Angel Wings surgery they were shocked to find out the pressure in his heart was suddenly lower than it had ever been since he was born! So they were able to "install" his heart angel wings--hehe! And they thought as long as they were in there they took a camera down to look at the lung damage--"don't know what they were talking about at Children's, we couldn't find any damage in either lung." (Jill always said she could "see" into people's bodies when she was doing long distance work on them. Totally, totally believed her after that!!)

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Just writing about all of this makes me feel like dancing! :):)

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I was told about a Unity Church and a Lake Harriet Community Church in Minneapolis--that they both had people there who did energy work. I had to go check that out! Ended up volunteering at both churches doing Healing Touch. At Unity they worked on people while they sat in a chair. At Lake Harriet they had rooms with massage tables! I volunteered mostly at Lake Harriet. I could bring my boom box and MTDI cassette, a candle, and have a little privacy and quiet. Was wonderful! People tended to fall asleep on me--hehe!

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That's it for today. I'm still on schedule, I think. One more part left and you should be basically all filled in. TaDa!

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I just wanted to say that if anyone wants to talk to me privately or ask me questions or tell me their own stories...please feel free to email me. Just put something in the subject line so I know you're not spam--hehe! (soulcomfortat gmail dot com) I may be very open about myself, but I greatly respect other's privacy.

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This is food for my soul!! :):):)

Me, GA, and SC-Part 4: the running girl and "bunny stuff"

My life was filled with challenges and changes--leaps of insight and fallow years--loves and losses--great spiritual confusion and moments of crystal clarity. Even after "meeting" GA I never believed he was around all the time. I knew he flashed in when somebody else needed assistance, but I thought he begrudgingly arrived when I was so spiritually lost it was his obligation to show up and kick some spiritual butt. Like he had drawn the shortest straw with the guardians. Obviously everyone has a guardian angel or I certainly wouldn't have one, right?

I gradually learned to pay closer attention to coincidences and to this zapping thing that would happen to me ever since I can remember. A tingly feeling starting at the top of my head and working down my body--usually happened when I was wrestling with spiritual decisions, pondering what was the right thing to do--when I was struck speechless by the beauty of words or the earth or music or love--and it was always there at those spiritual light bulb moments. Hard to explain because I wasn't paying attention as to when it happened--it had just always happened on occasion and I related it to soul-positive things.

Fast forward to January, 1993. I had been married twice and my second live-in relationship was ending. My dream of finding that soulmate had slipped through my fingers--several times. There was obviously something deeply flawed in me. And I was unable to make good choices when it came to men--period. So, I totally gave up. Washed my hands of it. Handed my love life over to God/GA. Vowed that I would never get involved again unless the man was "GA Approved". And told GA that he would have to be as hit-me-over-the-head-obvious about it as he was with the quitting smoking. (Been alone since--ROFL!)

http://soulcomfort.blogspot.com/2010/12/tuesday-930am-winter-cottonwood-and.html

I thought my spiritual path had been the most important thing in my life, but I was so easily sidetracked by wanting to be loved (men), money issues, jobs, moving, and starting over so many times my head was spinning. I told GA that I wanted to put my spiritual path first from now on.

[Aside: I couldn't remember which year this all started and just went to go look it up in a box where I knew I had the "Soul Comfort" sheet I wrote out to give to people I worked on years ago. I just now realized that after I grumpily declared these things to GA in January--it was a few months later that I caught my fingers in a pressure roller at my fairly new job (I didn't want to be sidetracked by work so I got a factory job)--and then later my wrist muscles shredded because of the first accident and I was forced to leave that job....and the long downward health spiral began. ?? Maybe GA had to help kick me (forcefully!) right off my path--several times--before I ended up here in Fargo unable to do much of anything at all anymore! I am very stubborn and single minded at times. *ahem* Talk about your putting your spiritual path first, eh? Be careful what you ask for--ROFL!! Everything happens for a reason. Even if you have to wait a decade or two to be able to look back and see the bigger picture more clearly. LOL!!]

Anyways--I also don't recall exactly (but it was around Jan 1993) when I had one of those GA information things as I was waking up where he told me I was to learn how to do what I did in a crisis without the crisis.

What?! Come again?

He brought the accident with the girl who was hit by a car into my head. "Remember. Think about it."

I had forgotten all about her. Dagan was about three years old. I had split up with his dad (for the second and last time) and Dagan and I were living in Coon Rapids nearby where my dad worked. My folks encouraged me to come over and wash clothes over at their place to save money and my dad had picked us up after work with all our dirty clothes. It was cold, dusk, and it had started to snow--enough that there was a dusting of snow on the ground. Had to be late fall/early winter because there wasn't much snow accumulated on the ground at all--may have even been the first snowfall? We were driving down East River Road in Fridley--two lanes each direction and we were in the far right lane. My dad is a careful driver and the car up ahead of us, I noted, must have been, also, because we were keeping pace with him as the sun was disappearing.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a girl crossing in the middle of the road. A bus had just gone by in the other direction, so I figured she must have just gotten off the bus. I hadn't noticed her until she was about to cross the center line and come trotting across our lanes of traffic--head down--watching her feet so she didn't slip. But she never glanced up and kept going! And ran right in front of that car ahead of us!! She flew up and over the hood and landed on the side of the road!

Stop! Stop! I shouted at my dad! He pulled over. I told Dagan to stay right there in the car and wait--and I ran down the road toward the girl. I remember thinking maybe she was dying or having a seizure--because her legs were out stiff and shaking oddly. I tried to remember what I did--auto-pilot is a blurry thing. But I know I immediately got down on my knees in the snow besides her on her right side and held her hand. She was not conscious.

The driver was beside himself. I remember telling him it wasn't his fault--she never looked up to see him coming. A remember a couple strangers showed up--I asked someone to call an ambulance (this was long before cell phones and I don't know if we even had 911 yet?) and people to go look for a blanket or something. She was alive because she started to shiver. I told the driver man to go out on the road and get her shoe and I saw a book. He really needed something to do--was frozen in panic. So he did that in between cars.

She started to come to and was fighting to get up! I knew she shouldn't move. I laid my hand fully on her forehead--telling her to just lie still--and she sunk back onto the ground. Someone did come with a blanket or something to lay over her--but I remember I didn't let go of her hand to help them with the blanket. I remember explaining to her that she'd been hit by a car and that the ambulance was coming and she was going to be alright. I slowly stroked her forehead--like you are brushing hair back, you know? Told her--I'm here. I'll stay right here until they come. She never spoke. Just nodded her head that once. And she laid quietly while I talked to her-until the ambulance men came racing up. Couldn't have been more than 10 or 15 minutes from the time she was hit. I moved when they told me to.

My dad had come up. I remembered seeing him earlier. Where did the people come from? Cars that stopped? There wasn't really much around there as far as buildings go? I remember wondering where they had found to call for the ambulance? I listened to her cry and watched as they cut her jeanpant's leg up the side and saw the bone sticking out of her leg--poor thing! Gave a policeman my memory and then dad and I walked back to the car where little Dagan was sitting so quietly in the warm car--waiting with big eyes. I told him all about what happened.

[Aside: I wrote everything down when I got to my folks' place and gave a detailed statement over the phone a few days later. Years later the case was going to court and they called me to testify. I saw the girl in the hallway, but she quickly turned away from any eye contact. I was relieved that she was okay, tho--and walked fine. I was there to repeat my story that the man couldn't have possibly expected anyone to run across three lanes of traffic right in front of his car in the near darkness. Not that I blamed her, either. She was a young teenager at the time, with her mind on other things and made a grave mistake. Someone came out and said they didn't need me to physically testify after they read my statement. But I was glad I got to see her.]

Anyways, so how do you deliberately replicate whatever the heck it was that you did in a crisis? Good grief! I usually couldn't remember too much of what I said--even right afterwards. I was totally lost on how on earth to proceed.

Different mornings I'd be told--"remember-think about it"--and be reminded of these things I already mentioned--the hamster--the crow--the tornadoes--the people on bummers--Dagan--and other incidents in my life.

Well, first of all, when you are on auto-pilot you do not think about yourself at all. In fact, I was so totally focused on the other person or animal that I wasn't fully aware of my surroundings unless I had to be. But how do you put yourself in that state of mind without an emergency to act on?

I "got" to sit quietly.

Well, my brain was always going 90mph and I couldn't shut it off. I tried music, but everything I had back then had somebody singing and I'd just listen and daydream and think. I was telling my friend, Ruby, about my dilemma and Ruby said she had recently heard this music on Public Radio and had gotten the cassette. Said she'd send me a copy. Music To Disappear In by Raphael. Well, the second it started I knew--this was it! (New age music and I became the best of friends--hehe!)

I practiced and practiced--until as soon as I heard Music To Disappear Inbegin I was like Pavlov's dog and could feel myself fall into the zone pretty quickly. This was not an easy task and took me months to accomplish. (I haven't been called "motor mouth" in my lifetime for nothing--hehe!)

Okay--now what?

Send energy out through your hands.

Huh? I don't remember that part. No--I don't remember doing that at all!

Okay then--I guess I needed something to focus on--to put my hands on. I used to do this in bed before I went to sleep and a girl I used to work with named Roxy had given me this stuffed rabbit for Christmas. I was not a stuffed animal person and wondered why on earth she had given me this stuffed rabbit in the first place. Well, it would do, I guess. In most times I remembered I focused on heads and hands. This stuffed bunny had a head and tiny stumpy arms, right? It would have to do.

So, I practiced with my music and my bunny--feeling mighty foolish at times, I tell you--not having a clue whether this was working or not working--or if I was doing it properly or just wasting my time holding a stuffed bunny's head--ROFL!

I had only told my closest people about any of this "bunny stuff". Didn't know what else to call it, you know? I felt kind of ridiculous and pompous to think I could actually do any of this in the first place, so a bit of a silly label seemed fitting. I didn't think of any of this as "energy work" or "meditation" or any of those terms at that time. Just was trying to figure out with GA's guidance how to do what he "suggested" that I learn how to do.

Since his next step was to try this with actual people--well, I needed to call it something, right? It became "bunny stuff".

And here is my favorite part of Music To Disappear In. It lifts the soul. At least mine. Enjoy! :):)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hUPLxgB12hs