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Personal Sharings / Healing Fragmentation

To DaughterHeart ...

I have memories of you from a time before. We are so many, now, you and I. So many DaughterHeart parts. So many Mothers. So many parts, torn asunder.

I have a special ache in my heart for you. That's what I want to talk about. I don't know if our splits can be healed, but I want to try. I have some things I want to say to you, if you will listen.

I know you don't want to hear these things. I know you don't want to believe they might be true. But this is what I feel from deep inside me, from the aching empty gaping wound inside me.

Why are we calling you DaughterHeart? Why use that word? I would not call you that. I would call you StrongHeart. Or MotherHeart, or better yet - Strength of MotherHeart.

You are not Heart, you are Mother essence. You are a part of the Mother's Heart. You went out from me, from my heart, and the empty place you left still is yours. It has not been filled by any other. It is YOUR place, and only you can feel right there. You left me. You went out to live on your own. To claim love, and yes, to claim that you were all the Mother there was. Many of our parts hate you. Many of us feel your betrayal as a reason not to trust you. I see many reasons not to trust you with my whole vulnerability, but ... how can we heal if I don't at least try. As scary as that is.

But ... but, oh how I wish I could sit with you and hold you and cry and listen to you cry and we could make it all so different!

I hear so many of your parts (our parts!) berating themselves. What did you take from the red book that now your self-hate uses against you?

Your sin, if sin it was, was to deny the rest of us. You are certainly not alone in this. All of us, all our parts have denied, rejected and spurned other parts. And we have all been denied, rejected and spurned, by ourselves and the rest of Creation. The difference is that many of you ... after the leaving ... sat in a place in the Godhead that was more in favor than the rest of us. And you continued to deny our existence.

What does that make you?

Selfish? So am I.
Wanting to avoid pain? So do I.
Wanting to be The One? So do I.
And so do all our parts. All of us retain our desire to BE. So, what was your most terrible sin? What was it truly that is so horrible?

You wanted to be loved.

That's all.

You wanted to be loved.

You wanted to be loved. And being the Strong part of our Heart, the part that can ACT, you went after it, trying to leave pain and horror behind you. You found a place in the Godhead to nestle down and BE somebody.

Now, many eons later, and many splits later, I am speaking to so many different parts of you, many different perspectives and experiences and denials. But we have a common root system. Your experiences in the Godhead taught you the "value" of extreme denial. Now you need to learn the value of UNdenial. And you can do that. You can do it. You, heart of my heart, most loved and capable of loving, can cry through the pain of our beginnings.

It's going to be horrible in places. We need to do it together. We can help eachother heal.

You can cry your self-hate. It's one of the hardest feelings to cry, because although it IS an honest feeling, it is also one of the enemy's tools, and to approach our self-hate feels like approaching the deepest darkest part of the gap. It feels like death.

You can cry the need for love that drove you to leave in the first place. I know this need. It is need with a capital N. NEED. It can be cried, but the tears are like acid. It is need filled with terror, and it hovers constantly on the brink of death.

You can cry the terror of the knife in the dark. In the dawn of your existence, when love was still a bright dream, shining in the darkness, you were pierced and burned. The terror of that lives on in your secret heart, as it does in mine.

I know what the truth is about your experience there in the Godhead. You can put on a happy face as much as you like, behind your gloating eyes I see the lie. The truth is, you didn't feel loved there, no matter what you did. No matter how much sex you had, or how exalted as "The Mother" you were. You were raped, and you pretended that rape was lovemaking. You gained standing and power over others, and you pretended that was love. Because you have secret terror, parts of you cannot open to love or sex, and so you blamed yourself for your inability to feel loved there. Frantic, you tried to keep up appearances. Bereft in your tender heart, longing and needing, parts of you still INSISTED that THIS was the way, and kept trying to find it, kept frantically beating their wings to fan the flame and their poor empty hearts eventually froze from lack of love. Like drug addicts, they can't stop, they STILL seek love in all the wrong places.

I love you, StrongHeart. I want you to come home, come to the gathering, come to the safe valley and cry with us. We are the parts that love you still.

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