At the House of Healing, under a living tree in a corner on the second floor, a dead branch nests precariously in a white porcelain bowl, its black bark jagging up in twisted attempts to stand on its own. Midway up, at its very centre, a break exposes what was once the living tissue of the tree. There, a thorn juts out into its surrounding space, and I think I hear it screaming silently.
Every time I look at it, I think this is what I look like inside. My tree of life, my chakras, my kundalini energy, whatever you may wish to call it, is dead. It was murdered a long time ago. The vortex that twisted it into its present shape still continues its act of disfiguration.
Embedded deep, that thorn is in my heart.
There is a legend in The Thorn Birds about a bird that searches for just such a thorn. Then, impaling itself upon it, the bird sings a song so sweetly that the world, standing still, listens in ecstasy. Sometimes I close my eyes and pray that such a song springs from my soul, in the pietistical hope that it pleases this God, whose good pleasure it is to demand sacrifice in return for resurrection. And I shudder as I remember that he would not even spare his own son.
March 15, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…You ask me to go where there is so much pain. Yet when I get there, even after the crying and the pain (I am amazed at
how I can feel this), I actually feel better. Makes no sense. Tonight was so intense. I have been so tired these weeks. Yet, I feel as if something is shifting, almost like I’m an iceberg about to go topsy-turvy.
March 29, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…My left leg is bothering me so much. It has been such a long time since it hurt like that and I am very impatient with it. It was difficult to go back to that place. It had been such a long time since I was there, either here or with EMDR. Very hard to go back. But now I can resume where I left off. I saw a C-14 in large green letters.
March 31, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt lighter. I feel good. I think what happened tonight is what you call a release. Good. The images were there, but now I don’t try to keep them out. Big difference.
April 3, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…There is a burning furnace in my stomach. My head hurts, of course. I am determined to get it all out of my system. There is pain almost all the time now, physical pain, and I get the feeling the processing no longer remains contained on the table. It stays with me and is always bringing me surprises.
Does it ever, ever end?
April 5, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…I don’t know if you’d call it remembering, but it certainly is something akin to that. I feel the pain. I know what is happening, yet I see nothing. The images happen at the beginning, but when the pain comes, all is black. Just pain. How could anyone do such things? How?
April 10, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…My heart was racing from the first adjustment.
Sometimes that happens, but usually after the third or fourth. Lots of pain in my chest, in my lower belly. Very difficult adjustment. I
think I prefer it when I make more noise or cry. I now feel terribly sad. My chest still hurts, and other places too.
April 12, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…Most of my feelings are gone now. But I can say that a lot of the pain I was feeling is gone, too. Thank you.
April 17, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…I don’t want to make so much noise and I try to keep quiet, but sometimes it just takes over. I am aware, as I make all that noise (coughing), that I am being loud. Yet it seems I cannot control it (or that) at this point. Today I felt the panic very strongly, and I am proud of myself because I worked at getting past it. The only memory that I have is the pain. Maybe after the pain, there will be the memory.
April 19, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…Everything now seems to be so far away. I like to just be, to let each adjustment do its thing, to not breathe for a while and just feel. But the sitting adjustments are so different.
I do want to resist and not go there. Then I tell myself I must. It is when I finally let it come through that I end up making all that noise.
Yet I still don’t know why. Where does all the screaming come from?
Where does it reside inside me? It’s not in my head, it seems, so where is it? All I know now is that this is good. Lots of things happen in between adjustments too, but that’s okay. It appears that I can be in two worlds: the world of Network and my little everyday world.
April 26, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…not good. Actually, I’ve been unwell since last Friday.
Aside from that, tonight I felt trapped, incapable of releasing any of the pressure from the different adjustments. Everything burns: my back, all along the spine and my neck. I ache along my entire back.
My right arm, too. I am so sad. This is not right. I should be happy.
It seems to me that what happened so long ago could have caused me a lot more problems. Still, here I am at fifty-six and I’ve never been in a hospital. So why do I react like a stupid victim and like it was the
end of the world? For that matter, why do I keep coming back for more of the same? Trapped — cannot release — I’m trapped.
May 4, 2000 (letter to Hell)
I will not be coming to see you for a while. No, I’m not quitting, I am merely pitching my tent for a rest. Now that I’m back ‘down,’ I am amazed at what I see.
I’m tired. Too tired; completely exhausted. The iridologist is helping me, but that too is tiring. I collapsed on Easter Sunday. The clearing on the Wednesday after Easter seemed unnecessary.
On the Friday, I overreacted at work and undid a lot of the good work I had done to keep my job. I broke down and cried like an idiot in front of this man who used to think well of me — but not anymore.
I am trying very hard to undo this, but I doubt it will ever be the same as it was before. I had shown I was capable of handling stress, and any amount of work, for that matter. Not anymore. He will probably reduce my work load but that will be to my disadvantage.
I need rest, lots of it. I should not have come to your centre Easter Saturday; I had the flu all night and had only slept from 5:00 a.m. to 8:00 a.m.; not enough sleep. Generally, I am finally sleeping better now. It is important to be rested for the conference in the Maritimes next week, as I’m expected to be back at work on the Monday. There will be lots of workshops and lots of new things to learn (can you teach an old dog new tricks?)
The clearings take too much out of me; enough for now. At this moment, I’m not certain I’ll attend the next clear day. I think we should just forget this one and leave room for someone else to participate. I will be at the concert for certain; I’m looking forward to it.
I find that I’m not so confused anymore. I’m not saying that I don’t want to go back, just that I need rest. I am pitching my tent to rest not only my physical self, but my emotional self, as well. When I start the clearings again, I will be stronger and, as I go up the spiral again, I will probably have a better understanding of the twelve stages of healing.
I have come to accept that ‘bad things happen to good people,’ and that I am not alone. Some have had it much worse. I think whatever
happened is definitely in the past and, although it has coloured my life for over fifty years, it does not have that power anymore.
Tonight I am seeing Patricia. She is a very good iridologist.
May 26, 2000 (NSA Journal after adjustment) Today I felt…It is quite a thing, to go back there after so long, but now I think differently and feel differently. No more being scared or feeling crazy, or both. No more wanting to run away. My words are different, too. Less those of a victim, more those of someone regain-ing their power: “You are not allowed!”
Soon (or not), I will get to the other side of the pain. My right wrist has been trying to tell me something. I try to listen, but I only hear static. Hopefully, some clearing will help me tune in better. Thank you for so much healing. Who would have known?
May 27, 2000 (Computer Journal)