Healing: Life is Futile/Life is Beauty

hope image

(There is so much beauty growing all around me and through me. I feel it like vines growing from my wounds. I feel it like there is medicine in my tears).

This blog was written a couple of weeks ago. I stopped writing it when I started feeling tired and sleepy. I don’t recall the details of how this experience ended but I felt like sharing it tonight anyway. I know I did finish the process and ended in resolution.

Today I was drawn into the emotion of futility once again. The feeling that there is no point in trying, the feeling that life and I am pointless. It is a total giving up on everything. It is apathy born out of experiencing devastation that has happened so repeatedly, that all efforts to feel, be or create anything other than the pain life seems to exclusively bring seems…futile. It is the feeling of being beaten down, drowned, hurt, killed by life over and over and over and over and over and over again, that you no longer see any point in getting back up again…and so you don’t.

Today I did The Completion Process with myself. I haven’t done it by myself for quite awhile. Part of my healing is to have someone see and feel my pain, because so much of the trauma is that I was alone, so a facilitator helps a great deal. But today I felt the call to do it with just myself anyway. It came from one strong thought amidst thousands of the opposite –  “I am going to find out what this part of me needs and give it to her.”

Futility is such a powerful negative emotion. It is only half a step above total powerlessness, which is the lowest vibration in the human emotional experience. The difficult thing with futility is that because you feel like everything is futile, that means you feel like even trying to heal the futility is futile. So you don’t. A lot of people with this negative core imprint don’t live very long for this reason – they kill themselves with the conclusion that there is just no point in enduring life anymore.

When I closed my eyes, I committed to fully feeling my futility. I tried to feel the physical sensations. I couldn’t. Or rather, what I felt, was just nothingness. If I tried very hard I could focus my awareness and feel a particular area momentarily. But basically, I felt nothing. Underlying the nothingness, there was total fatigue and weakness over my whole body. If my whole body could sigh and not take another breath in, that is this feeling (I suppose that is a very accurate description for the emotion itself too – I don’t want to take another breath in because I don’t see the point). I repeated in my mind like a mantra, “I am completely here with you”. I tried to surrender to the weakness even more by breathing into it. I could hear the thoughts of my inner child, “Life keeps hurting me. Why do I keep being so destroyed? I can’t be alive anymore. This is too hard. I can’t. I give up. I give up.” In the distant beneath, my heart held a faded feeling of brokenness. “I’m never going to be happy. I’m never going to be okay. I can’t try anymore. I don’t. I don’t. I won’t.”
I validate myself, “I know, I know, that this is valid. Anyone would feel exactly the same way right now. Life is so fucking hard. Why the fuck would I keep trying when it’s this fucking hard? Why the fuck should I expect myself to? I don’t. That’s insane. I get to give up. I give myself permission to have given up and continue to give up. Fuck this. I feel futile because it all IS futile.”
The feeling intensifies with this internal permission. The feeling of weakness seems to extend into my energy field. I am so completely, defeated, broken, hurt, sad, unable… futile.

I ask myself, “When was the first time I felt this feeling?”

My face ached. A feeling of pressure. I felt dizzy.

“I welcome this memory.”

I’m remembering in first person perspective. I’m like, 5 years old. Then I’m 12. In both scenes I’m being traumatised. But I’m not resisting or anything. I’ve already worked out that resistance is futile so I’ve given up, “I’m dead, I’m just dead”, I hear my younger self think.
(For reasons I cannot yet express, I cannot go more fully into the details of this memory in this blog).

Then I’m just lying there, alive but dead. I bring my adult self into the memory. I sit down next to me and commit to being with me in this. I validate the younger me, “Anyone, anyone, would feel exactly the same as you do right now. Anyone else would just be dead right now. This feeling is valid. Of course it feels like it’s all futile. I’m so sorry you experienced this. I’m so sorry and I get it. I understand completely and I’m here”. My younger self cries. She cries for the grief of not ever having this moment before now, but desperately always needing it.
I query if my younger self wants any other beings around her right now. I see a beautiful, golden haired man of warmth and familiarity. It’s Samuel, one of my spirit guides. He’s wanted. He’s here.
The words, “Divine Mother” come to my mind. The Divine Mother I have created in my healings, Mary Magdalene, mixed with Mother Mary, mixed with an unnamed goddess, motherly being, is now here. She glows soft vibrations of pastel pink and purple.

I ask myself/ves, “What does this part of me need right now?”

I just know.

She wants to go to heaven.

We (my adult self and this younger self) fly upwards and then we’re in a place of soft light. It’s the light of dawn and dusk, mixed with a dust that’s made of sparkling, clear air.

She’s now wearing my pyjamas.
“What do you need or want right now?”
She smiles. The answer is nothing. Just to be.
We stand in the yellow, pink, gold, clear space.
We’re just here for awhile.
Some time passes and she realises, “Oh, we could have Uriel here. And Joe. And Sydnee. And Henry.” She’s referring to all my deceased pets (babies). We bring them into the space. They fly up with angel wings. Henry’s fur is looks so real and vivid to me (I remember how it feels to my touch). He rubs up against my younger self. He’s shining gold and smiling with his energy.

I ask my younger self if she wants to call in the other fractured aspects of us from this particular memory. “Yes”. I call them. They fly. They’re little lights. They merge quickly and she glows. I ask if she wants to go to the Safe Space, if there is anything we need to do to the memory, or any needs she has that remain unmet.
My younger self looks down at the memory (‘heaven’ is high, up above it all). I see water. I know this. From her safety in Heaven, my younger self conducts water and pours it into the top of the scene. It ebbs and flows from right to left as it floods the whole scene. As it lowers down, as floods do eventually, the details of the scene are disappearing. It erases everything. The silvery liquid washes away what was. At the bottom, there is nothing now. Together (my younger self and my current adult self), we induce flower growth where this memory, this pain once was. Multicoloured flowers grow upon the now cleansed scene.

It’s washed away and it’s all flowers and she feels more peace. Now I learn she doesn’t really want to go to the Safe Space. It seems like, ‘too much’. Too much healing, too much to ask, too much. She just wants to be. I’m frustrated because I want integration to happen. I want to rush my healing process because I still have resistance to not being healed. I validate my impatience. “Of course, of course I’m impatient. This takes so much time and doesn’t feel good and I just want a life that feels good. That’s so valid, it’s valid to be wanting to be healed, like, now.” I turn to my younger self, “Okay, you can totally stay here, or wherever you want to be.”

light sea

I think of the need for purification in the healing water of the Safe Space and how she should get to have the option to go to the Safe Space when she wants to in the future. I move the whole ‘heaven’ space to right next to the Safe Space (with my younger self’s agreement). There’s an adjoining energy bridge she could use if she wants to. I feel good about this. “You can stay here forever if you want, but just in case, know you have the option to go to the Safe Space, heal, rest or integrate if and when you want to.” With that, she seems to suddenly fly into the purifying water in the Safe Space for a moment. She flies in and returns as swirling golden light. She is a swirling golden pattern of light. I’m confused for a minute. I wonder what’s happening. “Reborn”. This word comes to my mind, and I understand. The way she is swirling matches the movements of the Phoenix from my vision a few weeks ago. I feel she wants to integrate now and enter my heart chakra. No more needs need to be met, no more validation or purification, she is ready. I focus on my heart for a minute. I feel a faded pain there. I realise the way the light patterns of this younger aspect are moving…it’s like she’s on repeat. I realise she’s waiting. I realise I have to go into the pain in my heart before I can breathe her in.

I feel into the pain in my heart. It’s, “my heart. is. broken.” pain. But it’s distant and numbed out. I let it be and breathe into it. The feeling shifts. The pain is still there a bit but there’s an additional feeling of… restriction. My heart feels so restricted. I ask, “When was the first time I felt this feeling?” and I’m suddenly drawn into a feeling of being pulled through something. I feel restricted. I’m being squeezed into something I don’t fit into. I don’t like it. I wonder how old I am as the feeling grows. “I’m like, no age. I feel zero somehow.” I try to see myself with my awareness. I just sort of see/feel I am not much of anything, I’m like, a wisp of energy or something (my mind loves to try to make sense of things too soon). I be present with the feeling. It shifts to fear, or like, resistance. My breathing becomes troubled. I focus even more. I let it be but my mind is continuing to ponder anyway. “Am I being born?” “No… that’s not this… I’ve done that before.. No..” And then I realise… I’m entering my body inside the womb. I’m entering, so I feel restriction. When I land/shortly after, I feel resistance for the first time. I feel so… restricted, scared, weird, confused, weird.
(And I get it just now. This is my resistance… my ‘resistant to life’ imprint. This is when I first felt restricted by and thus resistant to life. My broken heart… my feeling of being unable to love whom and how I want to love… feeling like it’s never ‘allowed’ and is ‘too much’ for people… reflects my feeling of being unable to live as who and how I want to live… due to feeling fundamentally restricted in life. It all makes too much fucking sense).

I stopped writing here that night. I know I continued to allow myself to feel. I continued with the process until these aspects of myself integrated within me. I know I got back more of my heart that night and closer to hope (our life intention is always the contrast of our greatest pain ;) ).

I felt proud for being there for myself that night because of what I said… futility makes you feel futile to try to heal. But I was able to draw some ether left of hope, strength, or something, to guide myself back to myself.

(I recognise my divine opus to heal and transform myself and others).

The effervescent diamond
Mutli-faceted beyond
Into unknown cataclysm
I become
The light scattered around the room

Born from fractures
We are each surrounded by

“For your heart is like a flower as it grows,
And its the rain, not just the sun that helps it bloom,
And you don’t know how it feels to be alive,
Until you know how it feels to die”
– Noah and The Whale

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