Anne's Belief Ceiling Is Rising
A visit from The Unseen Therapist in The Palace of Possibilities Gary's Intro: For those following our recent Webinar series, you may be interested in Anne's progress between the Webinars. As you recall, this inspirational lady was subject to major childhood religious conditioning and was given an "impossible" task of climbing out of this deep hole.
However, thanks to our Webinar audience's work with Anne, as well as her work on her own, she is raising her belief ceiling as to what is possible. Below is a description of her recent session with The Unseen Therapist.
~~~~~~~~~~
From Anne: I am in the basement of my room in The Palace of Possibilities. I am a small fire with a flame flickering all the way to the ceiling. Around me stand Mom, Grandma, and Dad. They are close enough to each other to hold hands, but the fire doesn’t touch them. They had been wrapping me in their cloaks of beliefs since my birth, giving me attention that I welcomed. I so willingly wanted to please them. But now, the cloaks are on fire. I am the fire.
The Unseen Therapist reaches Her hand into the burning fire and pulls me out, a little four-year-old girl. The fire and people remain in place, but I’m laughing. I’m happy. I’m escaping. The cloaks I was given that hold the beliefs of the others are still burning in the fire. I feel full of energy and free. I run with The Unseen Therapist through the dark basement. Her presence lights the way. In the distance, I see a light coming from the ceiling. When we get close, the light beams down on a large ornate throne made of gold with red velvet cushioning. It sits upon a dais.
The Unseen Therapist says, “This is your majesty. This is your magnificence.” I giggle and run up the steps to the chair. I climb up into the chair and sit on one of the ornate golden arms, pressing my little bare feet against the velvet cushion of the seat. The Unseen Therapist climbs up and sits with me. We are both laughing and having fun.
She hands me a bag of popcorn. “Let’s watch a movie.”
A big white screen appears as I pop some popcorn into my mouth. On the screen appears my "nap event" movie. This little girl (me during nap time in a room with my siblings) is lying in bed and puts her hand in her crotch. It feels good. It feels natural. This is part of her body.
Suddenly, her mom jerks her out of the bed, takes her into the bathroom, and starts whipping her.
I put some popcorn in my mouth and look at The Unseen Therapist. “What’s wrong with that woman?”
“She’s scared,” she says. “She’s scared because she does this, too, and it’s a sin in her mind. It’s not allowed. She wants to make sure the little girl understands this. The mother doesn’t know it, but there is an anger in her, too. She is bad like the little girl. She is punishing herself through the little girl.”
When the little girl is set free, she runs back to her bed with tears falling down her eyes. Instead of hiding under the covers, she puts them up to her chin and watches her mother walk out of the room. She can see the woman is disturbed.
I stuff some more popcorn in my mouth as the movie continues.
The mother throws down the switch she used to whip the child as she walks into the kitchen. She did her duty. She fulfilled her obligation to raise her child right. Her own mother would be happy. The Church would be happy. God would be happy. But she isn’t happy.
“Why does she seem upset?” I ask The Unseen Therapist.
“She holds a nagging feeling of guilt. Guilt that she did the same thing with her body and still has the urge to do the same thing. She can’t get it out of her mind. She can’t get it out of her body. So she carries guilt about it and punishes herself with that guilt.”
The mother hears a knock at the door. It’s a neighbor woman. The mother puts on a happy face and invites her in.
I’m still chewing on the popcorn in rapt attention. Some pieces fall on the velvet seat. “What happened to the little girl?” I ask.
“She’s fine. She is seeing the truth about her mother’s actions and fears. She’s understanding that she doesn’t have to take on the same beliefs.”
The little girl smiles as she falls asleep. When she gets up, she goes to the bedroom door and carefully looks at her mother.
Her mother smiles weakly. It’s a false smile. It hides from the neighbor the fact that there is guilt and fear in her heart. But the little girl can see the fear in her mother’s eyes.
“Why is the mother afraid?” I ask The Unseen Therapist.
“She fears she is not a good mother. She fears she is failing at raising her children right. She’s not sure how to keep them from sinning. It seems out of her control. Every child is just one more path to Hell. It’s so unbearable that she hides behind a façade to look happy to outsiders, to make it appear that her family is perfect. But all the while, she knows that God is watching her, judging her, and prepared to punish her for all the things she cannot control.”
A piece of popcorn falls on my toe. I scoot my toes along the velvet seat, so soft and plush. I’m enjoying the popcorn and the movie.
The Unseen Therapist gets up and steps down to let my brother Joey, six years old, crawl up the chair and sit next to me. He has a bag of popcorn, too. He watches the movie with me.
I swallow some popcorn and ask him, “Do you remember that movie?”
“Yeah, now that I see it.”
“Did you know what the little girl was getting in trouble for?”
He shrugged. “What bad thing can a person do in bed? I thought it might be that. I felt bad for her. I was scared myself that I might be next.”
Marie, two years old, crawls up into the chair and leans on the other arm.
“Do you remember that, Marie?” I ask.
“No, but the situation seems familiar.”
“Did Mom punish you, too?”
“I think she slapped my hands. But I wasn’t so obvious. I knew it was wrong, but I just made sure Mom didn’t find out.”
I laughed and tossed a piece of popcorn at her. |