The past relaxed (instead of the past tense)


Introduction:

So I’ve relocated to Palma de Mallorca for a while, having been granted a stay of absence after serving out my time in Central London, England. Twelve months for my sins!!! Did I really commit that many wrongs??? Or was it more that those wrongs were wrongs from a past life, or all of my lives long-since-gone before… and, as I have often felt; even more so recently: in this life it was my choice, my destiny, to attone for and fix them all?

I’ve sensed since way back, since when I could first remember… that I came here to resolve; that I am the one to put a stop to the continuation of a great many things:

• the things that impacted me growing up,
• and the things that impact me still…

And I’ve tried to, as much as I could.

Yet there are boulders that remain, walls that will not fall; patterns and behaviours that, consciousness and open, actively working upon, even I am guilty of repeating. We are all, to some extent, mini-me’s of those who made us. They mini-me’s of those who made them. And if the ‘me’ who planted the seed of your family tree was a ‘me’ beset by complex and neurosis: it stands to reason hundreds of years on, you too are a ‘me’ beset by complex and neurosis. But we can try. And there is both peace and joy to be found in the process and the journey of trying.

~

Action:

1. What are your emotional blocks, triggers and issues…?
2. What would you most like to resolve?
3. What stressful bad or ugly would you – if you had a magic wand
   like Hermione Granger…
like to erase or make go away?

Personally, I can think of many… But this is about you.

So have a think, write it down, make it solid: so that you can then (with it as a point of focus, a thing to still and then fixate upon) take it and dissect it and pull it into pieces. Apart things are easier to face than those that remain rigid and solid, containing less ferocity in their energy than those left untouched. And dissecting is the first part of the process of unravelling and healing.

There are those who would protest to this level of detail and perhaps protracted length of analysis, asserting that it is better to heal in blindness and ignorance, claiming that pain, instead, can be removed simply by painting by numbers: this problem requires this solution, that problem that… And it can. Only in my experience – accumulated over many years with the help of both my own curiousity and exertion and the help of many experienced practitioner and therapist – pain removed without clarity and dialogue, without knowledge of ‘what’ and ‘why’, is pain that leaves leaving a root. A garden can be weeded, sprayed with chemicals, ploughed, etc… but unless the source of the thing you are trying to remove is found and then extracted, the bit that’s left is inclined to recover and, shortly thereafter, regrow. How often do we tend to a headache only to have it return? Or treat an aching limb to a massage to have it feel equally as bad the following day?

Only recently I addressed a pain in my chest, a tension and a tightness that had no business being there. And, because I attempted to appease and release it a novel way, a way that was different to anything that I had read about or experienced before (part of a personal experiment, an experiment to further growth), it went and then returned, reduced but not (as desired, as required for the continuation of my emotional wellbeing and overall physical ease, entirely absent. Roots are stubbornly inclined and have a tendency to remain hidden in order to re-emerge, putting forth shoots that effortlessly grow back into bushes and trees.

So:

• find it, name it, own it, claim it,
• reach out and touch it,
• pick it up and hold it in you hands,
• look down upon it and smile, thinking only of gentleness and feeling only love,
• speak to it as if it were a child… and, in a journal or a notebook,
  write down its reply.

Then, if you can:

• place that book over your heart and press it up against your chest with
  both palms facing down,
• then sit or lie comfortably and close your eyes and still your breathing,
• inhale and exhale deeply – visualising white light entering, black light
  leaving, focusing your thoughts on cleaning and clearing, letting go of
  all undesirable things.

I like to see the white light as Heaven-sent, the black as a long but obedient serpent (Harry Potter style). With my mind’s eye concentrated on connecting – to God, to Angels; to fairies, friendly spirits and other benevolent beings – I draw down the power of the Universe and fill myself up. Think of it like a download of unconditional love, with enough magic and mojo thrown in to completely heal and clear you of everything that is antagonistic to your essential nature and highest good. If it helps, you can picture the white light as water or rain and (if you are good at visualising), even feel it as it pours onto and over you, covering you from head to foot.

This is a great daily exercise which:

• with practice and devotion,
• with focused attention and genuine desire,

…yields big results. Especially if combined with other techniques:

• music
• essential oils
• crystals
• flower essences
• herbal infusions
• light
• movement and breathwork
• smudging…

Music can do wonders for the soul and, alone, be excellent therapy.

Smell is a powerful stimulent, different essential oils shifting and releasing unwanted emotions and energetic imbalances.

You can use crystals to address specific concerns, like exhaustion, grief, anger, anxiety, pain…

A stick of incense, palo santo wood or sage can clear negative energy from either you or a space, removing anything that has become stuck. We collect energy from every interaction and experience. Both good and bad, it all impacts us and, if ignorant to that fact or else dismissive of it, we can become anxiety-riddled, sick, toxic and polluted, without ever reaslising that it’s got very little to do with us.

I like to put essential oils on my wrist points, inhaling as I draw my attention inwards; using them as an aid to relaxing and slowing down, as well as a tool for inward focus and an awareness of how each separate part of me feels.

I also like to light a candle and dedicate it to specific guides, asking them to protect me while I work.

And I have a prayer blanket, created with love, that covers me.

What you choose is up to you and it will be different for every person.

Trust your intuition and follow what you are drawn towards. Your body knows best. Listen to that ‘belly’ brain, the one just above your navel, combining it with what you hear and feel in your heart. And don’t overthink, because it’s that brain, the thinking brain, that got you into trouble in the first place. No offence to the ego (bless it and all that… it means well), but most of what ails us is there as a result of that conscious part attempting to control and maintain authority over the older, deeper, more authentic soft and squishy parts underneath.

So:

• honour your inner baby and talk to your inner child,
• love your difficult and often overwhelmed adult,

…picking up the crumbs of potential and possibility and following where they lead, remaining, as you do so, open and receptive to all manner of majesty and magic.

To be healed is having an awareness that you were never broken

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In subtle ways

Standing in the shadows, I cannot see you.
Walking behind me, I miss the help you give.
Yet you are there; people attest to this.

When the sky is grey,
when the land is wet,
when the air is cold and crisp;

when my body aches,
when my heart is heavy,
when my mind is full of clutter:

a flash of colour,
a burst of song,
an unbidden smile,

a stranger’s kindness,
a shaft of light,
a falling feather…

In subtle ways on countless days
you light my journey
and I feel your love.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

To be healed is having an awareness that you were never broken

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Ask me a question or book an appointment
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I believe in fairies

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It is said that every time you say ‘there’s no such thing as fairies’, a fairy dies. And so it’s not something I’ve ever done. But I’m not sure either if I’ve ever really believed, not since I was a child and believing in magical things was easy, just part of the course, as natural as walking and sleeping and breathing. In fact, back then, it would have been an effort not to believe, because I was a dreamy child and I have always had a vivid imagination.

But as I got older and my life turned outwards, things like fairies and Santa Claus and magic and miracles fell off. It happens to all of us. It’s part of growing up. A sad fact of life that only a few of us escape.

I continued to love fairies. Angels too, but in a distant, only half-aware kind of way. I might turn to my guardian angel every so often to help me to get past something, to heal me in ways where I was stuck. But I was more likely to turn to God and ask for his forgiveness and love.

Until recently, that is… when I woke up.

Since then, the magic has filtered into my life in delicate streams, small amounts that fit me ‘just right’; amounts that are knowing and gentle, respectful and kind. Some simply see, waking overnight, shutting their eyes to one world and opening them to another. I have slowly had the blindfold removed and I am still unveiling.

Today is one of those days when I experienced a shift, one of several large ones when something remarkable happened, something so impossible, so undeniable, so inexplicable otherwise, it could only be a miracle.

I have a bracelet that is very dear to me. It symbolises many things. And each time I wear it and look at it: I find peace and stability and reassurance and strength. It’s a talisman, each individual bead, each crystal, chosen for its reason and meaning, its inherent properties; its power further heightened by the symbols I’ve placed into it. So when I woke this morning and its absence was felt, I went into panic. How could this be? How could this happen? There was no logic. The clasp is secure. I wear it carefully, I don’t take it off. And yet… here it was: missing, no longer resident on my arm.

I scoured the apartment. I searched high and low. I turned out drawers and looked inside pillow cases and underneath beds. I was distraught. A new one wouldn’t hold half of the meaning or symbolism this one did. It wouldn’t have travelled nearly as far. It would be a replica and thereby impotent. The thought was distasteful to me. I’d rather be without than with alien, with fraud.

After an hour, I gave up: reality setting in. I was tired yesterday, out of sorts. I must have lost it while out shopping, the bags on my arm unclipping the clasp. I must have then not noticed it all afternoon and all evening. I must have slept not noticing it still. I was distracted, desensitised. And, anyway… it’s so much a part of me, I no longer feel it. It just is until it is not.

I concluded that it was gone, that someone had found and taken it, that a stranger had chanced upon an unexpected gift. I buried my head in distraction, surrendering myself to the process of grief.

But there was one thing I did that was different, that was unexpected and new. I went to my bookcase, I selected a book, I looked up lost objects and I called upon Chamuel and asked him to help me. For Chamuel is the archangel of finding lost objects and so, in my newly awakened state, referring to him was the next logical step. But I was doubtful. I’ve asked for feathers and coins as proof of existence before and come up short. In fact, I haven’t seen a feather in months. Maybe that’s a sign in itself? You see, there’s this resistance, this reluctance to bother something so mighty and powerful, so divine, with something as trivial as me. And asking for feathers and coins, just really isn’t my thing. I’d prefer to wait for the big one: helping a loved one, healing a bone, overcoming a really big block. But I have been wanting something more tangible, more solid than the flickers of light that appear just outside my vision and the inexplicable smells that suddenly appear, and the strange noises I hear in certain places and the visions that come unbidden and the things that I know with such surety, such clarity, they can only have come from elsewhere. So I asked. And then I let go and left it there, trusting to the Universe and the grace of things I cannot see but which I am increasingly aware of and gradually more certain.

And I was leaving it, accepting it and letting it, until I suddenly had this urge to go look out the window and check to see if last night’s rubbish was still there. Now this is central London and rubbish disappears fast. Dustmen come at least once a day. And if not dustmen, then other men looking for things that might hold worth. So the chances of my rubbish still being there a good 16 hours later were slim. I’d go as far as to say impossible. And yet, as I looked out the window: there it was, the bag that this morning, only hours earlier, had not been there. Because I had checked, just on the off chance, in the name of not leaving any stone unturned. As much as I had retraced my path to each shop and pavement. But I had come up empty as I had expected to.

It was a sign and one that had me racing down the stairs, washing-up glove in hand, to retrieve the now dirty bag from the opposite pavement, avoiding the looks, the feelings of shame, that picking up things that are dirty seems to attract.

I sat in the kitchen: eager, hopeful, somehow certain. And yet… as the bag grew empty and the amount of pieces that might be hiding it shrank, my faith shrank too. Maybe it was just another test? Another challenge? Because there have been many of those.

And then there is was, staring up at me from the bottom right corner: my beautiful bracelet; complete, whole, undamage, returned.

I won’t go into how I leapt about like a child, thanking Chamuel until my energy was spent. Or how I then picked up the phone, needing to share. I shall simply leave you with this… We are not alone. We are not abandoned. We are watched and cherished and guided and loved.

There are things out there I cannot explain. Things, even, I cannot see. But I have faith and I am learning to surrender, because the more I let go, the more I see.

If you are in need of guidance or holding, why not give the angels a chance? After all, the worst that could happen is nothing at all.

by Rebecca L. Atherton

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To be healed is having an awareness that you were never broken

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Within our reach: joy

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“I salute you. I am your friend, and my love for you goes deep. There is nothing I can give you which you have not. But there is much, very much, that, while I cannot give it, you can take. No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in it today. Take heaven! No peace lies in the future which is not hidden in this present little instant. Take peace!

The gloom of the world is but a shadow. Behind it, yet within our reach, is joy. There is radiance and glory in darkness, could we but see. And to see, we have only to look. I beseech you to look!Life is so generous a giver. But we, judging its gifts by their covering, cast them away as ugly or heavy or hard. Remove the covering, and you will find beneath it a living splendor, woven of love by wisdom, with power. Welcome it, grasp it, and you touch the angel’s hand that brings it to you.

Everything we call a trial, a sorrow or a duty, believe me, that angel’s hand is there. The gift is there and the wonder of an overshadowing presence. Your joys, too, be not content with them as joys. They, too, conceal diviner gifts.

Life is so full of meaning and purpose, so full of beauty beneath its covering, that you will find earth but cloaks your heaven. Courage then to claim it; that is all! But courage you have, and the knowledge that we are pilgrims together, wending through unknown country home.”

by Fra Giovanni Giocondo

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To be healed is having an awareness that you were never broken

To keep up to date with my progress and receive love and light in your inbox, send me your email address.

• Ask me a question or book an appointment
Buy remedies, healing aides and helpful accessories
• Check out my Etsy shop Lemon Rose Petals 🍋 to see what else I do