I sit on the sofa, with D in front of me. He just arrived, as we had agreed the day before. He said ”I noticed a resistance, like my timing was off?” and yes… he was so right. I had four more hazelnuts I wanted to munch down, before we got started. Felt a bit embarrassed at myself, chewing, chewing, chewing. As he raises the slightly off-vibes, immediately I drop into the NOW, and realize, here is a person who sees so much more than that which is visible using only the eyes. An hour long therapeutic process awareness experience commenced, widening me, to the extent that I felt I was close to being without boundaries – so far outside of my own body, it’s almost scary. But just almost. I would not trade that experience for anything in the world.

Being seen. Held. Loved.

Tears and laughter.

Deep anguish, as well as the most divine experience of slowly dissolving into the infinite, that which is me, and outside of me, ‘til the end of spacetime…

I don’t know how to describe what D leads me to experience, but it’s something other than anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s going within, while simultaneously going out, far and wide, reaching all that is, has been and will be.

When we are done, and I’ve landed again, somewhat at least, within the confines of my own body, there is a translucent feeling to it, to me. I am tired. Like having run a marathon… or so I imagine, since I never have.

Time disappeared as we sat opposite each other on the sofa. All that was, was all that is. All. And nothing. At the same time.

I saw more of me.
Saw those that came before me, the generations upon generations of women who have given birth to babies, who in turn bore babies, and somewhere along the line this resulted in my mother giving birth to me. And me giving birth to my daughter.

About holding it in…. or not.
The pivotal moment in time when the path ahead, for the women stemming from my womb, going back all the way to the womb of my First Mother, shifts, no longer carrying the weight, the burden, of judgement and inner harshness, concealed within. Letting it out into the world. Being, perhaps, created by those who cannot stand to see it, visibly, so used to it being concealed. Cringing from the physical aspects of it, when it is recreated outside, rather than sneakily hidden underneath the skin, the flesh, deep within our soulbodies. So much easier to ignore, pretend it’s not existing, turning it into something that-we-must-not-name…

About the jagged sensation of Worry.
And the much softer and huggable Concern.

Running a gauntlet.
Not because of the session itself, but because that’s what I have been doing, inside myself, for so long. So long I almost cry thinking about it. And cry I did. Oh, how I cried. For what has been. And what might be.

Dream-paralysis.
Lethargy.
Heavy. So heavy I cannot even flutter an eyelid. Impossible to move.
And yet… the ability to move is there. I choose not to. But why? Why?

Tired.
Oh, so tired, from running that gauntlet.
Feeling so alone. Absolutely alone, with no assistance… and then D reaches out his being to me, and hold me with his eyes.

Crying, desperately. But for once, sharing the burden of my pain, not alone in it, not having to carry it all alone. D is there, helping me carry… and I can imagine what it would feel like, to let go of all the responsibility that is not mine to carry, that I have been lugging around, for eons of time… believing that I should? That I would have no value unless I took it all on?

Oh. Be gentle. I am still learning. Stumbling about on earth, doing the best I can, failing miserably at times, exultingly successful other times. And meanwhile, putting myself through that gauntlet, over and over, a never-ending story.

Or? Might my time as a gauntlet-runner be coming to an end? Now that I’ve seen it, experienced it, become aware, so aware, excruciatingly painfully aware of what I’ve been internally putting myself through, out of… what? Fear?

Pure. Innocent.
Might I be? Am I allowed to be? To just Be? Aware?
Letting go of all that has been, being reborn. Like Phoenix, reborn from the fire, rising from the burning embers, flapping it’s wings and flying off… Being, Aware, and only carrying theweight of the responsibility that is Mine to carry. Letting the rest burn off, turn to ashes in that fire.

Liberated.
Jivanmukta.

As I write this, it’s there once more. The sensation. Dissolving into infinity.
At least, I feel it again, I revisit it as I write. I close my eyes, and it is within me. The liberation, experiencing the moment that is what is, all that ever has been, and all that will ever be. In one single point. Now.

Have I ever had an experience as humbling as this?