Eyes close. I let my body go limp & my mind float freely as I listen to Brian Weiss guide me deeper & deeper into meditation of an early childhood experience.
Before I could see it in my mind’s eye, I felt it. I sensed my 13-year-old body transported back to my grandparent’s basement where the pain & betrayal & utter disgust with myself flooded back into me like an ocean wave. My nose wrinkled & my lips turned down as I saw my one-legged grandpa sitting on the couch next to me, asking my conscious “Really? Here? This memory?”
I see him reach over for me, going underneath my grey middle school track sweatshirt & denim overalls & begin to touch my little lumps of fat I had just started to grow a few months before when I hit puberty. Frozen in shock, I could not move despite my mind’s plea to run as fast & as far as I could. Horrified, confused, ashamed. As he slid his hand underneath my panties I crossed my legs as hard as I could, physically resisting the penetration he begged me for. I pleaded, “please stop” over & over until finally he did. After he regained composure & a grip on what he had just done to his innocent, white-faced granddaughter, he handed me a 100 dollar bill & instructed me to tell no one.
I of course did. I confided in my mom as soon as I got home. In my current level of awareness I was able to go outside of my experience sitting alone on my queen-sized bed, and into my parents room where blame & guilt & lack of knowing how to deal with this situation filled their beings. My mom assured me I did nothing wrong & was to feel no blame, although I knew she was placing an even bigger load of blame on herself for not being there to protect me.
Back further, in utero, floating in my mom’s womb. Heartbeat & peace. But I could feel her doubt. Her knowing of having lost several babies before me & a lingering fear that I might be another of those nameless dates, crocheted & hung on a wall. I wasn’t. My spirit chose to be born into this body, into this life, and I was received warmly by my father’s strong carpenter hands.
An arched wooden door, carved with memories of all my lives. I turn the big brass knob & push it open to reveal at first only light. Then I look down, half expecting to come to the same life I had in a few of my previous meditations, but I see that I am instead walking bare feet on a sandy beach. I am alone, completely lost in my own world. Walking along the ocean perimeter, eventually going all the way into the water. Floating until I hear a distant & panicked shout of my name. I emerge from the water & run frantically over a hill & see my home in flames. I fall to my knees & sob, knowing my family had been trapped inside & burned to death. Someone comes to comfort me but I am irrational, filled with grief & guilt & such an immense sense of loss.
When I come to my death, I am back at the ocean. I slit my wrists before walking into the water & float away in gentle salty waves & blood until my spirit leaves my body. When I ascend upwards into the spirit realm, I am greeted by my family. Holding each other so tight & knowing well we are never apart. Knowing there is no need to fear loss because we all come back to the same blissful place. I cried as I realized this, able to release my current fear of losing the ones I love & breathing into the comfort of always returning to peaceful oneness.
Eyes open & I am back in my current body.
Feeling lighter than before. Thankful for this experience whether real or completely imaginal… just trusting there is a greater force helping me to overcome my fears so that I may thrive in this life.