Kriya Notes
During a recent kriya, which was focused on trauma release in my neck and throat, I began speaking...
I recorded what wanted to be said but lack the guts to post it in that form. Too raw for where I am right now.
Instead, here's the transcript.
Trigger warning: I explain the psychic experience of having been hung as a young child. This specific trauma was the inspiration for this "transmission" and is offered as a loose metaphor for where we are collectively in the US today, and perhaps more generally as well.
So much white noise. That's's what I hear.
Does the nation know that we're in reenactment? ...a collective trauma response to what happened here, between 400 and 250 years ago...has continued happening here the whole time. The Ur-trauma of it began with colonization... invasion by someones who didn't understand a land that was in deep relation to its people... to Her people.
The white noise - the confusion, the terror, the psychopathic need for control. The urge to fight, but feeling like you're trapped, you're trapped. You can't move. There's nothing you can do. You've tried it all.
The sensation of knowing you're losing, of losing hope. It's apocalyptic.
That's apocalyptic energy, and whether you're a settler or not, you've been living in that energy on this land and it's gotten into you.
Of course it has. That's how it works. You can't swim in the ocean without getting wet. Reenactment / possession state. These are more alike than dissimilar.
We need public mourning. We need public grieving. People wailing in the streets. Snot flinging and vomit, spiritual ectoplasm, evidence of trauma leaving at least the upper chakras. Many are already grieving, but we humans need to catch up.
I was hung once as a child. Well, once that I remember. I survived, obviously. but not psychically...I shattered.
To the parts of me that stayed in my head when the crushing pressure came, the world became like an ocean. And they found themselves responsible for some sort of balloon. They had to stay out of the water, but near it.
A water world. where we live in the air. Rejects... on a hostile planet.
To some other parts that were lower down, the head just disappeared... went away, abandoned "me", us, they. They had to compensate, replace the original head with various copies, their best approximation of what had been there before, and they didn't all quite agree on what had been there before. They had different types of relationships to it.
And so there are many versions of "head". Of a top, of "front", of "me".
We're never gonna agree on some historical accounting of what really happened here and who those people really were, and what they really meant. Even if we got close, it would never be 100%.
The only way forward is not found in looking back.
It's radical, radical, free love. Like free radicals. It wreaks havoc on the status quo.
I mean the kind of love that sees someone behaving "strangely" and does not look away. Does not judge. Instead is curious...thinks and says and feels "Hey... You, uh, seem to be going through something. How can I help?"
And then listens. Listens all the way. Never doubts the other's experience. Instead does what they can to improve that experience, to help them out... while resisting the martyr's path of self-abandonment.
There is no "us" vs "them". That is intoxicating illusion.
It's the only way we heal as a collective. It is the only way to "solve" global warming. The only way to be what we really could be as a species, as a planet, as a place in the universe.
It is the only way.