October 15, 2023
This morning I looked at the clock to see it was 3:33. My sleep was solid, no dreams, just complete rest, so I knew I wasn’t getting back to sleep as my mind immediately began thinking about the days agenda. Kathy is picking me up around 10:00 to take me to Medicine Hat where we will meet up with Sherry who I will spend some time with but am wondering how I’m going to keep myself busy so as not to worry about the what if’s. I will take the shuttle tomorrow, so there is some anxiousness about connecting all the dots which will get me to my true destination.
I was thinking this morning as I drank my coffee and worked on my puzzle, about the man I met the other day. Interestingly enough he works with horses and those who have autism as well as trauma backgrounds. We had a really good conversation and have exchanged phone numbers in the hopes we can work together at some point because he is very interested in using the singing bowls as therapy for his horses. This was something I hoped to do with another woman here in town who also does equine therapy, but she does not seem as interested. So the universe brought me someone who is more enthusiastic. This made me think about my intentions when I came back from Ecuador 3 years ago and my need to help the world see a different way. These past few years have taught me that it is not my job to heal others, especially those who do not want to be healed. My need to guide others to see the truth rather than follow stupid solutions like Trump or “the queen of Canada” has evaporated. This is because I now understand people want to believe in such things as this helps them to stay in a victim role. It means they do not have to change, they can remain passively ignorant. If they are helpless (a victim) then they do not have to do the hard work required to step out of that circle.
My whole life has been a process of stepping out of such a circle whether I knew it or not. As you get further along the path on your recovery you begin to see how deep the darkness keeping you from your true self was. Only then can you comprehend the importance of the journey. Staying in the role of victim means you are destined to repeat it. Today as I sit here, I feel I have been forcing my story on others because of my need to get answers. Today I embark on a part of my journey which gives me hope of conclusion rather than another chapter of questions. This does not mean I am expecting anything, but I am hoping for some kind of inner knowing which will bring peace into my soul and quiet to my mind. Over the days since booking my flight, I have wondered about the purpose of this journey and the overwhelming need to go despite being so anxious about actually taking the step. Truthfully I have no idea what will happen or why this is so important, I just know I have to go and it has to be now. As I write these words, determination is slowly replacing anxiousness. This was where I always knew I’d be going, it was just buried deep inside that darkness. In order to receive the truth, one often must take a step into the unknown, into the void.
Years ago when I worked at the resort in Cypress Hills, they had a team building day at the Tree O Six which represented zip lining or the tree top drop which I’d never seen before. We did not know where we were going when we gathered in the parking lot, although we suspected as it was the only logical place being less then half a mile from where we stood. I just assumed it would be the zip line which I’d already done, so felt a measure of confidence in my ability to participate. However, it was the tree top drop which was on the agenda, something which brought fear into my heart. A part of me knew this was going to not work out well for me, but I was determined to do more than just watch, so I geared up and stood in line for my turn.
Climbing the platform was not at all easy, the panic started about half way up the narrow ladder. I just kept thinking with every step, I would be fine once I got on the platform, which was actually true to some extent. The object of this exercise was to grab the rope and step off the platform to drop back down to the ground. Seemed easy enough as I watched others go before me. Unfortunately I just couldn’t do it. Every time I put my foot over the edge of the platform and felt the nothingness beneath, I saw the woman who was like a mother to me for the first 2 years of my life, fall. Worse than seeing her, was actually feeling the sensation in my own body as if I too was falling into the abyss. I kept trying because I did not think I could walk back down the ladder either – stuck in limbo facing a memory that until this moment hoped had just been a bad dream. In the end I did walk back down the ladder, the employees encouraging me as I faced my embarrassment on the way down. For me it was an absolutely horrific experience, the intense emotional residual needing to be suppressed until I was on my own. One of the employees came to me and suggested I stay behind and try again when it was just the two of us, so I agreed, hoping to beat this dreadful fear of heights. But it wasn’t a fear of heights, it was a terrifying reminder of a real event, something which I had yet to digest and comprehend.
She was so patient and kind, but to no avail – I climbed down the ladder for a second time while promising to try again the following year when they reopened. I didn’t. I left the premises feeling as though I failed, that I was a failure, my heart was heavy and I was ashamed. However in the way home a little voice told me the opposite occurred. I had succeeded because I tried so hard to overcome the sensation. Failure happens when one doesn’t try. This lifted my spirits, although the emotional density of the situation remained for some time. It would be the following year when I would read quite unexpectedly about a rather bizarre method of killing people in Argentina during the Dirty Wars. They threw non supporters of the government out of a plane over the ocean to their death. This was what I witnessed happen to the woman who was my surrogate mother when I was a child of about 3 years old. Because those being thrown from the plane tended to resist, there was a great risk those doing the tossing would also fall to their death as they were pulled over by the victim. This inspired them to drug the victims before throwing them so there would be no resistance. Knowing this helped me understand why this woman faced me as she fell with a smile on her face in an attempt to give me comfort.
Had I not made the effort to do the tree top drop, challenging my fear, I would missed out on the opportunity to experience the falling sensation which was the best way to confirm this was a truth of my past, not just a horrible dream I could never forget. I was in the plane watching her fall that day and being an empath I would have felt it had she been more aware of her fate. The reason I remember the sensation of falling is because I too was thrown out of the plane, only I had a parachute, although I was far too afraid to know what to do. The man who fell just before me by some miracle caught me and opened the chute for me. He could have saved himself, but chose not to, letting go as I floated above him. This was a vision which came to me while in lock down staying in Ecuador. To this day, it haunts me to remember it, my resistance to it being a reality also haunts me. Yet I know there must be some truth to it because of how and when I was shown.
My journey to Bolivia is, I believe, going to be a similar experience of remembering through a sort of re-enactment of my fathers last days. Being in the building where he died and the area where he was captured will bring back any memory of what I experienced through him during that time. We were so strongly bonded, I believe I will feel his death all over again, something I need to do in order to accept the reality of what I went through as a child. Anything else will be a welcome addition to an already incredible story.
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