healing through triggers

They stood there assuming he knew me better, while he sang his ugly song. It would have been funny, it is a funny song; "I’m gonna fuck you softly, I’m gonna screw you gently, I’m gonna hump you sweetly, I’m gonna ball you discreetly… and them I’m gonna love you completely, and then I’ll fucking fuck you…" I'm gonna fuck you gently by Tenacious D, ok you get it? So, in the context of my current reality and the sexual violence in my history, it just wasn’t funny. It threw me back in time with such force it took my breath away. I did more, than I thought I could, saying “you can’t dedicate that song to me, take it back.“  In absent minded, self aggrandizing indulgence he kept playing. Like sucking the choice from my lips was his intention all along, it has always been the intention.

I immediately reverted back, to where I had previously been, three times. “be quiet, it’ll be over soon” sitting shrugged over, hands covering the tendrils of my hearing, I just let him play. While three other men stood, and watched. The three of them, so out of touch with what is acceptable male behaviour, and devilishly close to being the ones behind the guitar. Silence. “be quiet, it’ll be over soon”. The song did end, and then I rode my bike home with him, guitar. I couldn’t help but hear playing over and over in my head, “gomeshi” “gomeshi” “gomeshi” … those women, and their voices.

I got home that evening, after being told that I was dishonouring him by not conceding to go have beers with him. Can you smell the foul reality of emerging as a women in a post Piscean age, men is their delusions thinking they have the right to make demands of our time, to attempt to posses our consciousness as best suits their needs. I meditated. I immersed myself in light, cards, candles and smoke. I scurried so far up my healing tree I didn’t have to feel the impact piercing the layers of my skin. I was free, I know how to be free from the deluge of humanity. I went home.

As I lay in bed that night my mind wandered back to the scene. What didn’t I do, what did I do? Was I accidentally presenting a smile, the kind of smile a woman makes when she knows she’s close of the end of her safety rope? That smile that inverts the heart and twists the sacral root. Were my fingers pulling down on my hair and my face bowed down to my knees not enough of a signal for anyone of those men to notice that I needed an assist? How did I fail myself, again?

As I continued down my path of shame and blame, beating myself up for having failed in this mission, again. I eventually came to a new conclusion. A pivotal moment of realization, had I actually failed, did I still have time to save my honour and serve the sisterhood?

Accountability. I realized it was my sacred duty to hold all four of those men accountable. Moments before I finally slept, I was prepared to put my spiritual practices to the test. I was ready to respond to a call I have been training for since my late teen years. I was going to hold them all accountable.

I made contact with guitar the very next morning. Outlining very specifically what he did wrong, how it affected me, and that never again under no circumstances ever, was he to behave that like with me or any other women again. I was fortunate enough to receive a heartfelt apology, which was the first of its kind in all the history of my abusers. I preceded throughout the work week to address the issue with deep simplicity, serenity and presence. Each man receiving a different and yet relevant to them synopsis of my experience and encouragement to step in when a sister is stuck, weighed down in the depths of trigger. Each responding in their own, authentic way. I received, four apologies.

I felt I had actually accomplished the task at hand. I have been learning of and meditating with the throat chakra for the past three months. My voice, my authentic powerful voice was called to action, not only in defence of my spirit but in quest to teach men, of an integration age, how to better relate to women.

A step. I listened to the deep yearning of my spirit, I heard her. I obeyed her.

Holding those men accountable was a step towards a shamanic gift I received in session the following week. I was working with a client, she, an incredible being; the kind that feeds the evolution of the women surrounding her, the kind that challenges you to see yourself as greater than your biggest insecurities. She asked me to facilitate a journey for her. This quality of session does not typically exist in my practice – mostly because I was afraid of it. The experience was for the most part entirely ineffable, non-transferable and purely mystical. I became something I already knew, something I had practiced thousands of times in a previous staging of cycles around the sun. Something so deeply ingrained in my cosmic body that it landed with reverence, power and grace. A new threshold of healing. It scared me, naturally, as any contact with the limitless universe would for a human. I sat in awe.

My voice, Spirits voice alive within me; does she have the courage to hold the truth we have for her? I did, I do.

I urge you now, in what has been a re-occurring session theme this week to say yes.

We have goals, dreams and spiritual aspirations or non striving – these are all goals, what comes before the goal are the steps, the leg work, the effort. The effort is not only comprised of obstacle and challenge, but also opportunity, yearning and adventure. We have to listen to the heart center, to hear; for example ... 

Me: I want to be a successful ________ … (I want a mountain of papaya!)

Universe: ________   ________   _________, she wants the fires of transmutation

Me: No, that will be too much, too hard… I cant do that? Who am I to …? 

Universe: no no no no no no no no no

……. Nothing ……

Me: I have no money, I feel empty, who am I?

Universe: no no empty no no no who no no no? FIRES

……. Nothing ….. (from earthly standards)

Me: Mantra

Me: Meditation

Me: Mantra

Me: Meditation

Me: Mediation

Me: Meditation

Universe: apricot

Me: No, I said "I want a mountain of papaya"

Universe: apricot

Me: …..

(four years pass.. really, four..)

Universe: apricot

Me: yes.


Me: joy!

Universe: peach

Me: YES!!

Etc.. ( for years… yeah, like a long time… how bad do you want it? )

Mountain of papaya: I am at peace

Universe = ME

Figure out how to surrender, and then, START SAYING YES.

Chances are if you listen closely there is an answer.