1 hour ago
A painful looping appears in the vessel – a limiting core belief, painful emotion, a burning sensation, an urgent impulse to exit the realm of pure feeling.
While operating in large part within shadowlands, they eventually emerge into conscious awareness. “Yes, I see you. You are welcome as a temporary visitor, but I will not merge with you. I will not forget what I am.” By way of primary experience – setting aside the discoveries and fantasies of others – illuminate that middle place where you come close, but not too close where you fuse or become flooded.
Separate just a bit, seed the field with space, but not so much distance that you split and dissociate. Allow yourself to be touched. Penetrate into the creative core.
The ancient pathways will always be there to greet us, archaic invitations to repress what has come, or to act it out. To spin to purge it from our embodied experience. To discharge it lest we fall apart, drown, and become engulfed by its overwhelming manifestations.
Bear witness to these pathways, adaptive human responses to the trauma of dysregulating thought and unbearable feeling. The understandable responses of a tender developing little one, lifesaving primitive forms of self-compassion, aching now to be updated and reorganized.
But here we are now, no longer lodged in the “there and then,” but alive in the ripened “here and now,” with capacities once not available. With a heart and nervous system that long to reach into the mystery and to re-encode the system.
It is an act of love to enter the unknown middle as an archaeologist of soul, an alchemist of the inner landscape, and to open a portal into wisdom-essence.
Yes, it will take courage and an undying love of the truth to step inside and facilitate the sacred return. But if not you and me, and us together, how will love find its way here?
If we do not tend to the visitors with a fiery care and compassion, we will locate their emanations into the relational field in less-than-conscious ways, thereby generating additional suffering for ourselves and others. Let us turn to them now.
Art credit: Wildflower dream by Krista Marleena