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Personal Sharings / Healing Fragmentation
These pages are the verbal expression of a process that, for me, is far from verbal, mental or rational. If you are drawn to reading these stories, I assume (and hope) that you're as off-the-beaten-track as I am.
The stories and memories I'm sharing here don't come to me in meditation or in visions or through hypnosis. They are not a product of any kind of psychic or third eye type activity. I do not channel, except for one time and I have no idea how that happened or how to make it happen again.
These memories come when I cry. They are the memories of the parts I bring in and cry. And often while I'm crying the feelings, the memories themselves make no sense. After I'm done crying I can go through the feelings and memories and usually I'm able to put events together into a coherent flow. But not always. Sometimes it takes quite a while, of crying a memory in bits and pieces, of peeling back the layers of the onion.
Mind tries to fill in the blanks, in any case, and there are times, such as with the MotherBody memories, where I feel crazy and disjointed, because I don't have a linear, complete memory. I assume that eventually the picture will be more complete.
Because they are memories that have been trapped in bubbles of pain, I try to remember that nothing is literal. The Will / subconscious / soul is not linear or logical. It is representative, and communicates with pure emotion, images, and movement. All the memories coming from the depths of our unconscious have to pass through the filter of mind, and as with dreams, are prone to reinterpretation. So, like a dreamer awakening, trying to find words to describe events of the dream, we are all trying our best to define these realities. This makes it possible for me to believe that my memories are as valid and true as anyone elses. I might be remembering the same things as someone else, but my mind paints a different-seeming picture. It doesn't matter, both are true.
I don't care.
I began the path of emotional healing when I was ten years old. Not my choice, I assure you. My mother found the path of tears in 1966, she is responsible for setting us on this path. She is the explorer, Christopher Columbus, forging a path, plowing through uncharted territory. I invite you to read a little of her childhood story.
The beginning of this path was guided by the work of Harvey Jackins (The Human Side of Human Beings and Re-Evaluation Counseling), which focuses purely on emotions moving. My mother embraced these methods so far as to become a certified instructor, and for many years she held classes and workshops at the request of friends and family members, although she was really a "fringe" teacher, heretic that she is at heart. Most importantly, she brought it to our family and it became a way of life for us.
A Word About RC
I spent my teenage years crying almost every day, but I didn't make a conscious, "adult" decision to embrace the process until my junior year of high school.
I went through a period of rebelliousness and one of the things I tried to rebel against was the constant crying that went on in our household. I tried to stop. I refused to cry at all, about anything. And what I found was I was only doing damage and hurt to myself by not letting my feelings out. I also found that after years of crying freely, I no longer knew how to hold it in very well. When feelings welled to the surface, triggered by everyday life, I tried to hold the tears back and found the holding so much more painful than anything I'd experienced before. The clenching, the freezing, the holding it inside, created such pain in my eyes and throat and chest!
I lasted about 3 months, and then I finally realized that this was not something forced on me by an overbearing parent. This process was something *I* needed and wanted to do. Something *my* body wanted to keep doing. I actually laughed with relief and let myself have a good long throatful cry.
At that point I turned from child and follower, to embrace the Path of Tears and walk it with my mother as an equal and partner. We have been traveling this path together ever since.
We saw ourselves as being on a path that would lead back to God. We believed that what stood between God and ourselves was the unexpressed pain from past painful experiences. Frozen and built up over time, unexpressed pain created repeating destructive life patterns and a barrier between our consciousness and our higher conciousness, which was where our connection to God was. Our primary goal, then, was to cry all the pain, find the frozen memories involved, and reconnect with God.
I spent a lot of time during my 20's trying all kinds of things in addition to crying ... meditation and body work and chanting and visualizing... all to try to reconnect with God. I couldn't understand why I was having so much trouble. What was this huge barrier between me and God?
And then my aunt found the first of the Right Use of Will books in the late 80's. The blue book coming into our lives launched us on another leg of the journey. The RUOW books helped me put many things I'd been crying and remembering into context, they helped me understand why I had so much trouble connecting with God. They allowed me to open the door to all those feelings that I had in denial about God, and over time, helped me understand who I am and what my focus is.
For the last 4 years, I believed that I was a fragment of the Mother. That was not an easy thing to admit. I fought against it for a long time. Finally I accepted it within me. And the acceptance brought with it a whole new batch of triggers.
I have wanted to elevate myself to a visible place, sit on the Queen's throne, wear the Wise Woman's robe. I have raged at not being acknowledged or recognized. I have raged at myself for being too attached to being the Mother. I have strongly identified with the parts of the books where the Mother doubts herself and begins to believe that maybe somebody else would make a better mother, she's wrong to want to be the Mother, she's wrong to want to have that place.
I have cried terror and heartbreak and pleaded with God to kill me, let me sink down into the earth and forget and be forgotten. I have tried to diminish myself and make myself smaller than anybody else. I have tried so hard to be nothing. I have tried to go out of existence.
I'm not sure today who I am. I am still working on fragmentation and identity issues and personality and building my inner core, and looking forward to a time of greater knowing.
And that is the last thing I'm still sure of, and after almost 40 years, I doubt this one will change. Crying works. No matter what the pain is, or how hard it is, or how confusing it is... I can cry it. I can cry the rage, the terror, the heartbreak that feels it will never mend... and come out the other side with more essence and greater understandings.
The problem of fragmentation can be healed, even with the most polarized parts. I have brought in warring parts and have found that, once they cry and express everything they're holding, they can heal with eachother. They reach a sort of natural alignment. But they have to each be allowed to cry whatever it is they're feeling with full acceptance. This is my focus, my thoughts and feelings are bent on solving this problem all the time. That's the primary purpose for these pages, to share this process...