I do a drawing.
I listen to an interview with Sandra Anne Taylor. (Look her up on the web)
What I hear makes sense to me. There is a place to put a question in, like in a chat box. She will answer some of the questions that will be put to her.
I write. I know she will answer me. “Why does the pain not leave me, in spite of doing so much healing work on it?”
I am the third person whose question is being answered.
She connects with my energy, she says. She sees that I am a farmer in some previous life. I have a vineyard. She sees a cart, full of grapes, rolling out of control and crushing my foot. From that point on, in that life, I can’t work and my life is miserable till the end.
Go into meditation, she says. Imagine that you see that cart rolling. This time, escape it and be safe. Go through that life again and make it a really good life. Reach an old age and be satisfied. In this way you will change the memories that you keep. Then there is more to do, and it will come on a CD that I’ll send you for free. In it you’ll find how to make your cells open to change back to their original way of being.
All of this is a wonderful gift.
The next morning I look at the drawing and write down a few lines:
Strong and delicate
A warm living mountain in the middle
A broken stone ground turning into trees
Hot giraffe clouds stretching their necks into thin air
Trees of another kind
All elements seem to go clockwise around the mountain but the mountain does not move.
The mountain is like many people, standing together, with a common cause.
Unified front. Facing left.
It is not a poem. Just a collection of lines.
Suddenly I know: It is resistance. Everything moves but this collection of bodies or the mountain refuses to move.
Two questions appear now:
1. What is this resisting? It seems to be looking left toward outside of the paper. Can I go to the left of the paper and see what is there?
2. What does it protect?
Then I suddenly know: It is that cart, rolling fast and out of control, coming straight from the left and about to hit who I was in that life.
It is all stuff of the past, but amazingly the resistance is still alive today. It still experiences the danger, the horror of being hit and the pain that was caused and ruined a life. There is a refusal in me to let this experience go. This is what happens after traumas. The fear that it will happen again stays. Then, what we fear comes to us. This is how the universe works. Lester Levenson used to say: “Fear it – appear it”
The three purple lines on the left stand between the mountain and what is coming from outside. They shake with fear. Is this fear the reason for my pain?
Since everything is clear now and the only thing to relate to is the feeling of refusing to let go of the horror, I decide to draw the resistance again and again and see how it changes, and what it will change into. This is how I deeply listen to it.
Will my pain leave now, as soon as I release this feeling of refusal to let go of the fear?
There were five drawings of this feeling that I made that day. I will present them in the next entry.