The Power of Feeling

Transmuting the Energy of Rage Out from the Deep Depths of Darkness

I was laying in the bathtub journeying through dreamtime realms.  Scanning, sensing and feeling. Slowing down whenever a glimmer of insight became present.  Allowing the space to deepen into the darkest depths of hidden, suppressed and repressed feeling ...

Following the dancing synapses lighting up the neurons from one to the next, I dive into each story. Moving old energy like an avalanche into a river, before traveling to the next light dancing on the horizon of an inner multidimensional subatomic landscape.  

My attention allows blocks of energy to pulse and flow. Breathing as I sense and explore.  Attention and breath assisting this release: from my right foot up and down my system, through my left hip socket and sit bone and on down to my left heel. 

​Electromagnetic pulses of something held being dislodged and let go.

​I become aware that I feel grief and sorrow.  

Listening more deeply I feel the regretful sadness of how I was not present one night in my first born’s early life. For 11 years I consoled myself with the knowledge that she, at least, cried herself to sleep in her nanny's arms and was loving held against a kind nurturing heart. But it was not my heart nor my arms.  I was not there. In the presence of this remembering, I can still feel her infant longing and need for her mother, and I was not there.  

​I allow myself these feelings and in their acknowledgement allow them to move through me. I cry and grieve, releasing the residue of that sorrow from my body in womb pulsing waves as tears stream down my face into the bath water.

Experiencing the pulse of this amniotic fluid around me shifts my focus and lulls me into a sense of peace and fearlessness.  I allow myself to dive under this sensation into deeper awareness of what treasure and power is buried underneath the new mother memory. ​ Brought into the awareness of my embryonic infancy, I then sense my own buried longing.  

​A young child's need for an absent mother. ​​

​And I grieve some more, an old grief, still not yet fully acknowledged and released and transmuted and reclaimed. It has stayed with me up until now, for this moment of remembering and release.  The wisdom of its' waiting, dormant all these years, so that it would be received as medicine now both for myself and to be shared with others in this way, here and now.  My womb pulses and pulses, energy softly flowing with feeling.

​Suddenly I am propelled into the future and see myself sitting and video-recording this journey (I haven't yet but I may). 

​In the dark light casting shadows across my grieved face, the fertile crone feeling the rage of loss asks aloud ...

Are you afraid?  Afraid of this darkness? This grief?

​Have you ever felt the rage of loss? Have you ever had something precious taken from you? A toy stolen from your hands and broken, the death of a lover, or of an infant not yet born or a child too soon taken from this life? 

What does that rage sound like? 
Ahhhrrrgh!!! Roarrrr!!

​What is underneath that feeling?  
Deep in the dark crevasses beneath the depths of your psyche.
​
How does it ache?  Where?  Feel it.  Embody it.  Lift the lid of the cauldron of that rage and get inside it to feel, heal and release all the energy attached to that rage.

Back in the present turbulence, waves of sorrow, grief, and well-hidden shame at how the emotions of grief feel, pulse through my womb and body.  Relieved and grateful to unearth what had been hidden from conscious perception, I surrender it all in the waters of this nurturing womb in my bathroom.

​Now go.  Journey through time and space on one of the many paths wanting to be cleared to make more room for joy in your body and in your life.  Take a long hot bath and let it all go.