Repeating the incarnation trauma

 

I have images of an incarnation trauma, and the feelings to go with it. I am in a heavenly realm. A group of beings convey to me that I am about to incarnate, for the benefit of Earth and myself. I agree. I don’t speak for the part of me that deeply loves the heavenly realm, and doesn’t want to incarnate. And it’s quite traumatic. There is a loss of what’s most important for me, and a deep pain from this loss.

It seems that I have repeated this incarnation trauma several times in my life, especially around intimate relationships and also in other situations. I lose what’s most important to me (a relationship, a person, a place, an opportunity) right at the threshold of it happening, or shortly before or after it happens. The feeling, images and experience of it is very similar to the incarnation trauma. There is a deep sense of love, connection being home, rightness. And it’s lost.

A part of me also experience that a woman (relationship) will either save me or destroy me. And this too mirrors the incarnation trauma. God/the divine saved me, destroyed me (by sending me here), and may save me again. A woman will save me (if it is a deep soul connection, deep soul love, aliveness), or destroy me (if she has blind hangups, anger, and I feel trapped in it). Both the incarnation and some relationships (the ones with a deep soul connection) become a big thing, a life and death situation, in my mind.

Of course, I see that what was there before incarnation isn’t really lost. It’s here now. And it’s all God / the divine, whether it’s a heavenly realm or this life with all the usual human experiences.  And still, the pain is here, and it’s worth meeting with love and curiosity. It’s worth allowing the pain to come home.

(more…)

Wishing to be here

 

The incarnation trauma has surfaced for a while for me, the shock of going from what was before incarnation (all as infinite love, presence, luminosity, home) to this existence as (apparently) a human being in a sometimes bewildering world.

There is a part of me that wants to be here, and another that doesn’t.

Someone suggested I visualized an anchor at the center of the earth, and that’s one approach. For me, it’s part of noticing/visualizing the cable of black light going down from the belly and heart into the center of the earth (and then infinitely beyond that), and a golden cable from the heart and up infinitely.

Another, which I notice I am equally or more drawn to, is to connect with and welcome the part that doesn’t want to be here, the one that longs for something else, the one that is spacey.

You are welcome here.

Thank you for protecting me. Thank you for your deep devotion for me. Thank you for your love for me.

I am sorry for having pushed you away.

How would you like me to be with you?

What do you long for? What would make you satisfied forever?

(more…)

Incarnation trauma

 

This keeps coming into focus:

As a kid, I had memories of how it was before this incarnation – all as a presence with infinite love and wisdom, an infinite sense of being home, timelessness. What’s closest in the physical world is perhaps an ocean – in this case of awakeness, love, presence, wisdom, beyond and including the impersonal and personal – and of myself and any other more personal presences as part of this ocean. Before this incarnation, there was a council of sorts and a knowing of all of us that it was time for me to incarnate again. It was good for me (especially the first half of my life?) and good for others and humanity (especially the last half of my life?). There was a match between what I – as a soul – could learn and contribute, and what humanity as a whole would be learning and shifting into in this phase of our history. At some point, resistance set it, pretending I didn’t want it and didn’t chose it, pretending I was a victim, had lost something of infinite value, that God had chosen it for me, that it was a terrible tragedy to incarnate (not so much because this life isn’t enjoyable and interesting, but because of what was lost).

So there was a knowing that it was all right, and a wanting of this incarnation. A pretending it was a terrible tragedy. And quite a split between the two.

Later on in my life, I see some of these themes play themselves out, especially not fully wanting to be here (with my whole being) and repeated stories of loss of what’s most valuable to me, especially people, places and opportunities.

I also see how I tend to make idealized images of the past, as I did very early in life with my images of how it was before incarnation. Compare them with the present. And get caught up in the suffering created that way.

And I see how I – for a while – imagined that what was then isn’t here now. By holding onto an idealized image of the past, comparing it with an image of the present, and telling myself I lost something of infinite value, mind distracted itself from noticing it here, noticing it didn’t go anywhere.

Right now, I am most drawn to letting the (soft, gentle, loving, infinitely wise) light of Christ shine on this, the wound, the part of me pretending I didn’t want this incarnation, pretending I lost something of infinite value. And in this, there is a very quiet, soft, wordless loving inquiry, or sometimes just a whisper.

Is it true? What’s more true? How is it to take it in? Feel it? Stay with it?

(more…)

Loss of heaven

 

As a child, I had memories of how it was before this incarnation – all as a golden divine presence with infinite love and wisdom, a sense of being deeply at home. Later on, I remembered – or at least had images of – a group (of 12 or so?) beings/presences, a knowing that it was time for me to incarnate again, and that the first half of my life would for mainly for my benefit (growing, maturing), and the second mainly for others (service, guidance). And at some level, although knowing it was the right time and for the good, I resisted. I pretended to resist.

There are other images, including of a profound sense of loss when I incarnated, and of deep disappointment in my mother, my father, life, the world and God.

How could they do this to me? Why can’t my parents live up to or match the infinite love and wisdom from before incarnation, or at least show they know? I’ll show God he (she, it) made a mistake by having me incarnate. I’ll show my parents my pain and disappointment they couldn’t match what I had. I lost something of infinite value to me. I am unfairly treated. I am a victim.

And I notice that loss is a theme in my life. The pain of losing what I tell myself is most important to me, whether it’s people, places, situations or opportunities, and the expectation of future and continued loss and pain.

This all happens within my own images now, of course.

Inquiring into this, I have found that I did agree and want the incarnation, and that what I remember from before incarnation is something I can find here now. (It’s happening here, it’s reflected in a thought, another thought says it happened in the past, and noticing that I can find it here again.) And I notice there is something still left around loss, something left to feel and see, and find as love and find love for.

(more…)