by Hal Gatewood on Unsplash

 

Last night, with my pointer-fingers, I circled both my forehead (third eye) and my heart chakra—located vertically where our physical heart is but at the body’s center.

I aim to move forward with open eyes and an open heart aligning with truth and justice.

Yesterday, in a cushioned high-backed chair, I watched as my friend Jasmine acted out what’s been haunting me these past several months. Seated on a pillow on the wood floor in our vaulted-ceiling big room, dark hair framing her pale face, she said “Unforgiveness is all I am, it’s my identity. Only unforgiveness helps me fight for justice.”

His hands balled into fists, her partner Kenny— long hair to his waist and wearing sweatshirt and shorts—stood rigid beside her playing the part of Unforgiveness. After what seemed like forever, he finally asked Jasmine (in the role of my wounded feminine from a lifetime long ago) if he could maybe rest his hands.

“I’m ready to destroy and hurt others, but I’m also hurting us,” he said.

“You can rest for three minutes,” she said, “but I want you ready.”

The remaining four of us breathed to digest and release tension as we watched. It took Jasmine a long time to shift. She stayed in unforgiveness for at least 11 minutes, even as as Phil Cerdorian, our leader for this form of healing called Family Constellation Therapy, brought our friends Patti onstage to play Justice and then Eric to play my ancestors.

(When Eric first appeared on the scene, Jasmine shouted “My ancestors suck. They allowed this unfair system to exist!”) Little by little I felt space emerge in my belly.

“Please let it shift,” I begged God as I watched. I’d been stuck in vengeance for so long, maybe a thousand years. And I’d been grappling with this lifetime consciously for weeks during long runs that threatened to turn me inside out.

About a month ago, Phil arrived at our house saying he’d had a dream that my husband had died, and that David Bowie was playing at his funeral. We’d talked with Phil at one point about doing some healing work on a lifetime where both C and I think he killed me, likely about 1,000 years ago.

“I think it’s time,” Phil said.

A few years ago, while walking in the community gardens in North Boulder, Christopher and I spontaneously compared notes.

I told him I sensed I’d had a lifetime where I had an arranged marriage, and that my husband murdered me, maybe for money.

He said, “I am pretty sure I lived a lifetime where I killed my wife.”

Then, one an evening a couple of years ago while we cleaned up from dinner, Christopher said, “You know, I think your music would be a lot more powerful if you integrated your anger.” My husband and I are both musicians in a band together. We write and co-write songs often.

I lashed out at him in that moment—big surprise here—with anger. And yet I took his suggestion to heart.

When I was little, whenever I got mad at my Mom, she’d cry. So I thought that being angry meant being a hurtful, bad person. I disowned the feeling henceforth.

For the past few months, the anger (and the fear of it) have both grown so intense that I’ve taken to long runs just to work these powerful emotions through my body. Somehow, I’ve known that my power is all wrapped up in this miasma. I even had this image of me—strong thighs in ripped leather pants—riding a black horse.

I grew up on the Lord of the Rings and I am devoted to our shared One Source. I didn’t want to be a black rider. I knew I needed to decouple my power from the dark and serve a different master, but how?

No matter how much I ran through it all to heal, exhausting myself, the heart of darkness remained.

And there it was being played out for me by a small cluster of good friends devoting their time to our healing. My heart swells with gratitude.

After several minutes with Jasmine still needing Unforgiveness close by, Phil called Christopher in to play the Truth and My Voice. Clustered with him touching her heart and third eye, and her able to see Patti as Justice and her supportive ancestors (played by Eric as a very kind and wise grandmother knitting), she was able to let go of Unforgiveness. She finally said felt like she didn’t need him.

When Jasmine reported feeling much, much better, Phil asked me to join the circle. Each player gave their energy back to me. Kenny, meanwhile, had transformed from Unforgivenss into a warrior. And we welcomed him, too into the circle.

“That energy is beautiful, powerful Kali energy, once it’s decoupled from Unforgiveness,” Jasmine said afterward, as we debriefed. She wanted to make sure I knew that my power is divine and holy, once it’s aligned with Source, with the Light.

Because in the beginning, all Jasmine (as me) wanted was to destroy everything. Because how dare God deliver this life where she/I was murdered, with no justice, total unfairness, wrong in every way. How dare life deliver these brutal circumstances, so undeserved, so unwarranted?

And this fighting with all life, with God himself, clinging to Unforgiveness as somehow my very identity, the only thing capable of righting this wrong…it all just felt utterly familiar.

Phil kept looking at me, wondering how the words coming out of Jasmine’s mouth felt. I just kept nodding, eyes wide, tears streaming down my face.

Yep, that’s it.

Is it possible, then, that now I am different, now that I’ve watched this theater of healing, of transformation? I know it is. It might take some time to integrate.

Last night, as I rubbed my forehead and the space between my breasts below the breastbone, huge light filled me, awakening everything to wide open truth-bliss. I felt more aroused than I’ve ever felt, an unruly awakening that felt larger than life. And I kind of overrode it in that moment because I felt like if I embraced it, I’d never sleep, not ever, like I’d get sick from the shock of it all.

And yet, I am willing to awaken fully like that for all time now.

Gentle Earth-body, gentle human who shares my name, I mean to awaken in the timing your system can embrace. Maybe it’s just a habit, keeping this wild light seen only through these antiquated crumbling walls, as if the light itself is too much to bear.

I’m willing to let free the vast and powerful me. In service to the good of all.

Thank you Source, healers, and friends. We begin whole, anew, refreshed in You God, in your wild goddess Kali. All the power of our origins—even the blackest black of the absolute before we say, in Amen with Thee, Let there be Light.

Wonder Woman rides a black horse holding a sword.

by Gunaydin Dunya, Creative Commons