The work I’ve been doing with Erica has required me to go deep in myself and try to get what’s going on there. It’s a non-verbal part of myself, so usually I get a feeling and then try to translate the feeling into an image. Mostly the image comes on its own, or starts simply and gains definition with time. The first image had to do with the frozen baby
From my journal for January 11: Nancy Napier talks about creating a lifeline between the adult and the child by extending a line of light from the heart of the adult to the heart of the baby. When I did this before (years ago) I was connecting to a lost child out in the void. This time the frozen baby is inside me, in my lower abdomen. I am opening my heart to her and offering her a connection, and allowing her to absorb it at her own pace. I visualize her as grey and squeezed into a box about the shape and size of a safe deposit box. (That’s interesting.) — She’s been put into a space where she can be safely locked up and no one can get at her.
Journal January 14: While driving, I felt so odd, loose, relaxed, like nothing seemed important. It felt like some kind of shell had cracked, broken into several pieces. They could move around but were still connected somehow. It was also true that whatever was inside, something soft, could well out through the cracks. Feeling/watching this image, it came to me that this was the frozen baby unthawing.
Later in the day, the loose, cracked up feeling started to become completely liquid. I quickly put a container around it, but that brought up scared and sad feelings. Much more painful feelings are to be expected as the baby thaws. They were intolerable to begin with, that’s why she froze. So I’ve been expecting to feel pain like I felt last Saturday, when I was asking “What’s the point of going on?”
Journal January 15: What a mixed tangle of feelings! It’s like my life just got stirred up and the pieces are still moving. Wouldn’t it be good to be comfortable with this process? Maybe even let go of the feeling that my life has to be stable and solid. Actually, what I really need is a stable and solid container for the feelings that are erupting. and the loneliness which is so hard. Can I put my arms around loneliness and comfort her?
Journal January 21: Hard painful session with Erica. Having trouble connecting with her. Found a part of myself, down deep in something like a tunnel that got narrower. It was closed at the bottom so she couldn’t fall forever. She was just a little round ball – like an embryo. Looking at her now I see that she’s curled up in a ball, trying to be as small as possible. Erica said she was defending herself against disruptive energy. Seeing how much it costs to defend myself.
Erica asked how I think she perceives me. I said she looked concerned. She asked why. I said “Because you care about me,” and convulsed into tears. So painful to imagine that someone could care about me. She suggested I try to let it in, one drop at a time. So I let one drop come in and the tiny being took it in. “Where in her body did she take it in?” asked Erica. I couldn’t see the tiny being as anything different from a ball, so I said in the center. I imagined the drop as honey and it appeared as a golden glow in the center of the ball. We did another drop, and then the little one conveyed to me “That’s enough.”
Journal January 31: Just spent some time paying attention to the tiny one. Feeling affectionate, so I surrounded her with a golden sphere. She was not happy to be completely surrounded, so I opened a window and then took it down to half. She indicated that she wanted a little more so I let it come up a little, like cupped hands. Actually that’s what I’m more comfortable with. I think she just sat up, and then curled down again as though in a nest.
Journal February 3 Tough session. I cried a lot. I told Erica I had a hard time with her lack of response to my drawings. She apologized, sincerely, sick kids back-to-back. She said it was legitimate for the little one to be disappointed, angry and sad. Of course anger was too scary. Got in touch with intense pain inside. Too painful to be with, like an animal hurt too bad to live. What did I feel inside? Sore, “it hurts to be me.” Does the pain extend love or does she ask me to be with it? I say “poisonous. I’m poisonous.” She asks “Is that from inside or outside?” “Outside.” “Can you separate it a little?” The poison becomes a sphere around the pain. I try to make it go away. Erica says “just be with it.” I see that there are thorns directed both ways. I realize it’s in a lot of pain. I say “O poor thing,” and feel a gush of compassion. “Can she take it in?” “No.” As we hug I tell Erica she’s forgiven.
This picture doesn’t seem to fit the sequence. After I finished it, I saw that the object in the center was my heart, the circle outside looked like a crown of thorns.
Journal February 10 Erica said the quote from BVDK about attachment would trigger me, I need to reconnect. Because my excitement about astronomy can trigger the little one — it may bring me out of depression, but leave her alone — Erica suggested I talk to her about my excitement. She stops shivering, gets curious, as I explain my excitement. Later on, I started talking about something that excited me, and I had just started when I remembered the Tiny One. I stopped talking and put my hand on my belly. Erica said “Beautiful!”
Journal February 14 Massage was lovely. I checked in with Tiny One and she was ready to take in another drop of caring. I’m really pleased with our relationship.