I entered the elevator, pressed -7 and went down seven floors. It took me a while to actually descend. I could see my body go down, but I wasn’t there myself. I mean my brain, my consciousness were still up at 0. I tried again, and again, until it worked. Finally I descended, all of me. Slowly, going down to -7.
The door opened, I stepped out and into my inner garden. Actually, this time it was more like a meadow, with very green, very soft grass. I kicked off my favorite shoes, the ones I always wear when I go there. And went on barefoot. The grass felt delicious under my naked feet. Like walking on clouds, cool and soft, yet closely and firmly connected to the earthy, fertile ground.
I heard a horse make a sound nearby, went towards it to caress and stroke it. There was no barrier. I wasn’t afraid. It was very gentle. Then it bowed down, lowered its back for me to get on. I did, even though I don’t know how to ride, and there was nothing to cling onto but its body, head and hair. It took me gently to a another meadow near a forest.
There was a shrine, with a stone buddha statue in the middle and a flower in its lap. But I didn’t feel like sitting there. It was too dark, too humid, too close to the forest. I decided to wander around, look a bit further, and found a beautiful sunny meadow with lots of purple wildflowers that suited me more.
I sat down, soaked in the flowery aroma, the light breeze, looked up into the sky, saw the birds fly by and listened to them sing. There was a distant noise from a farm further away. A cow mooing. It didn’t bother me. I got one of my favorite incense sticks out, Sweet Aloeswood, lit it and put it in my favorite holder, a Japanese copper bowl. Then I lay down to relax and prepare for my sacred self to arrive, trying to picture her.
She looked good, healthy, vibrant, tanned, with white healthy teeth. But most of all, she was so calm, content, smiling, at peace. All dressed in white and beige, of course. What else would you expect from a sacred self?
She came and sat down in a cross-legged position opposite me. I still had my eyes closed, she didn’t wake me, just sat there, calmly, looking away into the distance, like she had all the time of the world. Sometimes she would turn and just calmly smile at me in my sleep, with a compassionate look in her eyes, knowing.
Then I woke up. I wasn’t surprised to see her, or that she had waited. We just looked at each other.
I said ‘hi’, told her that she looked good, and asked her what her secret was.
‘It’s not really a secret’, she said, ‘I’m just fine. I am where I want to be’.
‘Yes’, I said, ‘but how do you do it? How did you get there? How can I get there?’
‘You will know’, she replied, ‘you will know’.
‘But HOW?’, I was getting desperate for a more concrete answer? ‘And what do I do about the fear?’
‘The fear’, she paused for a moment, ‘let it show you the dangers, but don’t let it guide you.’
‘What shall I let guide me then?’
‘That feeling inside you’, she answered, ‘the feeling that knows. Your soul, your heart. You can trust it. It knows what is good for you.’
‘Will you protect me next week?’
‘Of course, I will, and not just next week.’ She moved closer and took my hand. ‘I will always protect you, always have.’
And then she stood to leave.
‘Can I come back here?’, I asked. ‘I mean, will you be here? Can I come for advise?’
‘I’m always here. You can come whenever you need me.’
‘You are strong, and you are courageous’, she said, before turning to go, smiling at me compassionately again, and encouragingly.
She left towards the farm.
Ok, ok, don’t be freaked out. I know this is a bit of an unusual post for me. I’m basically trying out something new. I’ve recently started reading The Dark Side of the Light Chasers by Debbie Ford, at the recommendation of one of my dear readers and herself a great blogger: Karen Lanser.
She had called the book a major turning point in her own personal journey of finding her way. And since she seems to have found it, I thought, what the heck, I’m going to try that. Can’t hurt. But might help.
The purpose of the book and the journey Debbie Ford is taking you onto is to meet your dark side, the parts of yourself that you dislike and have locked away. She has you meet the person you’d rather not be, befriend it, integrate it and restore your original, natural wholeness.
Since I have started it, I can’t stop thinking about it. I have to pause reading once in a while, because you can’t just plow through it, be done with it and healed. It’s a lot of work, if you do it properly. The author doesn’t let you off the hook, not for a minute. You gotta work hard. Do exercises. Stuff that takes a while to do, and even more so to digest.
This morning I did the „Meet your sacred self“ exercise. I didn’t expect too much from it, to be honest. And I certainly didn’t expect to meet a horse. Or hear the sounds of a farm. So very weird. It took on a strange dynamic of its own. I was surprised I didn’t sit down at the buddha statue. That would have been the natural thing to do during a meditation, wouldn’t it? But I just didn’t feel like it. I wanted to find a place that felt lighter and sunnier. And the flowered meadow was just what I needed. It felt so, so good to just lay down in the middle of it. I could have stayed there forever.
And then she came. My, ahem, sacred self. I have to get used to the idea. Just writing „my sacred self“ makes me feel awkward and shift in my seat. But I kind of like how our conversation went. I didn’t get the clear-cut answers I had hoped for. Like, do this, do that, and you’ll be fine. It was a bit airy. And yes, it sounded a bit like lines you read in self-help books.
What really stuck with me, though, was what my sacred self said about the fear: ‘Let it show you the dangers, but don’t let it guide you’. What the heck? Where is this coming from? I’ve read stuff like this before. But I never heard myself say it to myself. This is really new.
Same about that protection thing. You have to know that I’m not a religious person. I just wasn’t raised that way. In fact, I grew up in a country that strongly discouraged religious beliefs. But I sure am a spiritual person. I just have my trouble with angels and stuff. I prefer to think about it in terms of energy and vibration and universal wisdom. That’s a bit easier to digest for my rational trying-to-understand-analyse-and-categorize mind.
But I did actually feel quite nice and safe in that moment. And it is kind of reassuring to know that she is going to be there. And thinking about it, I also like her advise. Especially the one about the fear. I keep repeating it in my head over and over since.
Hm, do I post this now, or not? I’m a bit wary about it. Weird stuff. But, hey, you might have a good laugh, at least. And I can always take it down again, if I come to feel too uneasy about it.
Here is a link to the meditation instruction, at least, so you know I haven’t gone nuts (just yet).
Press publish. Gulp. And wait.