Once again, I came across the concept of permission. We know each other very well.
She is a permanent resident in my unconsciousness.
She tells me – she will stay there until she is visible in the collective memory of my people.
I am not arguing.
“Why does a person need permission to feel free?” you would ask.
Well just imagine that, when your freedom is only one generation old, it is a new concept.
I try to give it a form in my life.
As a female, I have noticed, my existence is loaded with skeletons of ancestors.
As an artist, I learned to work with it, give it a place, set it free, paint it, sing it and write it.
Since I opened the door to the depth of the underworld, I found a treasure of ancient knowledge and power, but also a heavy weight of responsibility to heal myself and others.
I personally blame my unconsciousness. I believe that what we find in ourselves is also what can be found in our collective. So I suspect that a lot of us don’t accept their power, apologizing for it, hide it, embarrassed about it.
So are you also feeling guilty about your freedom? Intimidated by its power? Feel guilty when you waste its stardust quality?
To answer that, I am diving in to meet a subpersonality, I do that often when I need to find a core in me that needs transformation. I can feel something refusing to abandon its post and embrace freedom. Who needs to give permission? I ask
I correspond with him in my meditation journey, I observe his clothes and body and I conclude ’a homeless person living in a hell of an existence in an alley of a cold urban city’.
I ask him his name.
I offer to help him improve his existence. He is afraid, doesn’t feel worthy, afraid that freedom is an uncontrollable beast. But he trusts me.
We start our journey like friends, no, actually like sister and brother.
I take him into a spa, where everything is beautiful, quiet and most important with lots of clean water. Good people are grooming him from head to toe, his hair, his teeth, his head, his nails, his feet, and his skin.
He gives permission for every step.
I bring the healer in me out and I can see that his chest is full of stones. His feet are wounded, and half of his brain is missing.
Slowly, very slowly, we clean and clean him. He gives permission; we go further, with healing, reconstructing and loving.
Then I let him go. He chooses to go into the woods, he said: ”to bring nature back to my feet and hands”.
When he comes back, I see him as a distinguished old man, with white hair and tanned skin and wisdom.
He is playing chess and he says to me: “I am ready to help youngsters, to expand their horizons, beyond the safety of the nest. This is the destiny I choose to enjoy. This is my idea of freedom.”
I am happy, another subpersonality is liberated.
Now, only 4976 to go.