Taking Down the Barriers
Jun. 30th, 2007 07:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
qosLast night as I snuggled down into bed and reached out to connect with LM, I thought he felt more present than before, that perhaps his voice was starting to come through with a bit of clarity.
And then I realized that a part of me was resisting hearing him as more than a memory-echo. I could almost see the stone wall in my mind, a barrier set up to keep out any actual, direct perception of anything that is not of the material world.
Why? I asked of myself, of the stone wall.
What I got was a jumble of images of otherworldly perceptions pouring into the mind of a young girl long ago, a girl who naively and boldly spoke of the powerful images she saw -- and was utterly rejected and persecuted by those around her. (As I type this, I realize that such a girl is part of the backstory of my novel.)
For most of my life I've yearned to have faery, magic, and psychic powers be real -- but at the same time felt a deep-rooted belief that to actually see proof of such things would be terrifying and Bad. So even after I started studying Wicca and shamanism, even after I realized that the 'imaginary' figures with whom I interacted in my meditation times probably had existences beyond mine, I maintained a measure of distance and skepticism. I feared both delusion and being overwhelmed by power beyond my understanding or ability to control.
LM (and our partner) challenged my perpetual skepticism. For the first time in my life, my eyes, my ears, my flesh conveyed to me the reality of things previously beyond my ability to contemplate. My rational mind had to either accept their reality or come up with a better explanation. It never did. Time and again my paradigms were shifted as the unthinkable became the ordinary.
But the wall is still there, the wall that keeps out the Otherworld and divides my rational mind from my the fullness of my intuitive perceptions and abilities. Its stones are made of fear.
And so last night I told the wall -- and my guardians, and whoever else was listening -- that I wanted to take down the wall. That I was ready and willing to be open to the Otherworld, and to face the challenges. That I am no longer afraid of what I may see, or what may come to me. I am no longer a child surrounded by fearful people who will abandon me to the visions and hurt me for speaking of them. I am a grown woman, a priestess in a fellowship of priestesses, and I have Work to do -- and a husband to be close to.
After I made that statement, I felt my mind expanding -- not in the willful way I forced the boundaries out the night before, but in a quiet, flowing way. I know that part of the wall is still there, but I also believe progress has been made. I've spoken for years of an amorphous 'something' that has kept me from my abilities. Last night, I Named it and I told it that it no longer serves the purpose it once did. It is no longer needed.
Actually, I didn't do that last night in quite the way I'm doing it now. I need to honor the reason it was put there in the first place, not just reject it as a frustrating stumbling block on my current path. I need to own the girl who was frightened and hurt, and consciously, mindfully, accept the risks of taking down the barrier that was put up to preserve me from her fate.
And then I realized that a part of me was resisting hearing him as more than a memory-echo. I could almost see the stone wall in my mind, a barrier set up to keep out any actual, direct perception of anything that is not of the material world.
Why? I asked of myself, of the stone wall.
What I got was a jumble of images of otherworldly perceptions pouring into the mind of a young girl long ago, a girl who naively and boldly spoke of the powerful images she saw -- and was utterly rejected and persecuted by those around her. (As I type this, I realize that such a girl is part of the backstory of my novel.)
For most of my life I've yearned to have faery, magic, and psychic powers be real -- but at the same time felt a deep-rooted belief that to actually see proof of such things would be terrifying and Bad. So even after I started studying Wicca and shamanism, even after I realized that the 'imaginary' figures with whom I interacted in my meditation times probably had existences beyond mine, I maintained a measure of distance and skepticism. I feared both delusion and being overwhelmed by power beyond my understanding or ability to control.
LM (and our partner) challenged my perpetual skepticism. For the first time in my life, my eyes, my ears, my flesh conveyed to me the reality of things previously beyond my ability to contemplate. My rational mind had to either accept their reality or come up with a better explanation. It never did. Time and again my paradigms were shifted as the unthinkable became the ordinary.
But the wall is still there, the wall that keeps out the Otherworld and divides my rational mind from my the fullness of my intuitive perceptions and abilities. Its stones are made of fear.
And so last night I told the wall -- and my guardians, and whoever else was listening -- that I wanted to take down the wall. That I was ready and willing to be open to the Otherworld, and to face the challenges. That I am no longer afraid of what I may see, or what may come to me. I am no longer a child surrounded by fearful people who will abandon me to the visions and hurt me for speaking of them. I am a grown woman, a priestess in a fellowship of priestesses, and I have Work to do -- and a husband to be close to.
After I made that statement, I felt my mind expanding -- not in the willful way I forced the boundaries out the night before, but in a quiet, flowing way. I know that part of the wall is still there, but I also believe progress has been made. I've spoken for years of an amorphous 'something' that has kept me from my abilities. Last night, I Named it and I told it that it no longer serves the purpose it once did. It is no longer needed.
Actually, I didn't do that last night in quite the way I'm doing it now. I need to honor the reason it was put there in the first place, not just reject it as a frustrating stumbling block on my current path. I need to own the girl who was frightened and hurt, and consciously, mindfully, accept the risks of taking down the barrier that was put up to preserve me from her fate.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-01 12:57 am (UTC)The wall may come down slowly, bit by bit, and it may sometimes slam itself back up for brief periods. Don't let either of these get you down; they'll pass, and in the end the wall will be nothing but rubble.
As far as that little girl goes, love her and protect her and let her know she doesn't need that wall anymore. That will sink in.
I've been trying to find the title and author of a science fiction story I read years ago, with no luck. In it, the POV character has a baby son who is completely open to the inner realms. The POV is also psychic, and is sitting enjoying his son enjoying being in the mind of a rabbit who is hopping around on the lawn, feeding. Then the rabbit gets hit and killed by a hawk. The baby freaks in sheer terror, and when daddy has him calmed down baby has shut his psychic perceptions down completely. He's just an ordinary tot from there on.
The story leaves the reader with the sense that this happens to all children; we're all born psychic and we all shut it down at some point because it's too much to handle. I think there's much truth to that idea, especially when you add in the point that what's too much to handle is often the social reaction to this sort of perception. Had I not been born into a family of natural psychics, I'd probably have landed in the same boat you did. :-p
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-01 04:47 am (UTC)This was good to read. I know that I'd be tempted to believe nothing really happened if it all didn't go away at once.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-07-02 12:04 am (UTC)Good thing I said something, then, because it hardly ever _does_ all go away at once. Usually one gets a significant breakthrough, and then the resistance rebuilds a bit, and then you knock some more down, and a little comes back, and you knock some more down, generally knocking down more than comes back (although sometimes not), and one day you realize it's pretty well gone. Not many people can let go of a deeply-established reflex in one fell swoop.
Priestess to Priestess
Date: 2009-12-22 08:44 pm (UTC)Thank you for letting me in to explore.
Re: Priestess to Priestess
Date: 2009-12-23 12:55 am (UTC)