It is becoming quite clear that the dark cloud I lived under was a Dark Side attack. And it wasn’t personal, quite a few of my clients and students have reported being effected by it.
In Ireland it even effected the water… it didn’t energize for quite a few days… and some other reports on well-being.
One good thing is coming out of this though is quite unexpected:
Insights that make a difference.
Understanding that has eluded me, understanding what and how certain freedoms aren’t available to my students.
This is what happened:
My partner in crime… making the ideas get out and be ‘consumable’ easily, and getting the work out bigger than ever… Miko participates in every workshop I give, so he can do his work better and better.
The Pendulum
So he was in the 3-wishes workshop on Saturday, where we hunt for the missing item.
The missing item is a way of being, a way of feeling that eludes you. That you can’t even imagine being.
In fact, the opposite is your most dominant fear and concern around which your life is organized… unconsciously.
So Miko’s was and is: being worthy… or the opposite: being worthless. Why? When he was three, he wanted to go left, the parents wanted to go straight, and they left him in the street, not even noticing that he wasn’t following them until they did… and the father went back for him. by that time he was wailing, a friendly woman asked him how she could help…
The father dragged him home, and for good measure, he spanked him.
What happened for him, in his reality, is he wasn’t wanted, he was worthless, he was a throwaway… and if you observe his life he acted out both ends of the pendulum, both worthy and worthless… always wondering what makes him worthless.
I am reading a book, a novel, and the main character, as a baby, was dropped into the trash receptacle, and left there to die… She was also a throwaway… worthless… and struggled with that all her life.
I suddenly connected the dots… yeah.
I also managed to go back to MY worthless incident, when MY mother left me in the street because I couldn’t keep up with her… Worthless, throwaway, like a paper cup…
I had never thought of looking at the missing item as the result of an incident… just never thought about it… but suddenly it is a diagnostic tool, and a healing tool… amazing.
Some of us have a string of ‘missing items’, some have one or two… I’ve had many I needed to look square in the eye and overcome.
These missing items are the reason you behave in self-defeating ways.
It’s so hard to understand why you would do some of the silly things you do… And if their importance is not appreciated, they run your life… like they ran Miko’s, mine, and many of my students’.
Of course it is not sufficient for most people to just see… it is important to work with it, instead of allowing it to work on you. I am looking at my experience that just watching a commercial disappeared my missing item: hopeless, at least for a day… hopefully, now that I am aware of it, longer.
So the value of the 3-wishes exercise has grown in my eyes: it is a valuable diagnostic tool, not to be belittles… even thought the exercise sounds so innocent.
Maybe the best tools feel innocent…
I am going to do another one of these 3-wishes workshop… again on a Saturday, either this coming Saturday, or the next… I need at least 4 participants, for the sake of the group dynamic.
If you want an interesting, enjoyable, and ultimately healing little exercise, and you can make yourself available on a Saturday afternoon (4 pm New York time) sign up now. You’ll thank me for it later.
Sign up to the 3 wishes workshop
Sounds like fun.
When I was younger I used to fantasize about questions like that… spend hours spending my imaginary money… So here is your chance to play that again… lol.
PS: I just listened to a rant audio from my teacher. His wife says, for the listeners’ sake, that her husband is a good man.
But he is yelling! my mind was arguing.
I grew up with a yelling mother. I cry when I hear yelling. I am reduced to a little girl abused, or going to be abused… yelling always accompanied beating…
I see I need to separate the two… and hear yelling as talking passionately… And snap out of being a little girl… snap out of being completely defenseless, good enough to be beaten upon.
Maybe I can listen to the wife and believe her: my teacher is a good man. Even though he yells.