Gratitude Lounge

Hello my dear friends here in the Lounge, please allow me to share something quite personal, which currently moves me deeply. Recently something decisive happened. Out of nowhere, an old memory appeared, and not only that, but also the associated feelings which had been suppressed unobserved since childhood. I have known for a long time that it was my parents’ excessive demands in their struggle for survival that provided the framework for the experience described below. This article will be quite long for once, and I kindly ask for your understanding and patience.

Something happened during a lecture. All of a sudden, sentences are spoken that completely unexpected frighten me, triggered by words and images such as “red light”, “nothing works anymore”, “isolation”, “being cut off from the others”, …. I can no longer hear what they refer to, but hear them through the ear of the past. There is a time jump and a fall into a kind of paranoia. I begin to cry, then sob, can no longer calm myself down, and this in the middle of a seminar. People are affected. Inexorably, deep despair breaks its course inside of me, and such a strong fear of punishment.

I see myself again as a six or seven year old girl. It was the first time I had been given a responsibility. I was supposed to bring money to a bank. There was still time left, the streets were deserted because of the siesta, so I thought of a game. I wanted to do magic and try to move the purse towards me with a spell. So I put the purse on the sidewalk, turned around, said a made-up spell, hopped back joyfully about 10 steps and then looked through the straddled legs to where I had put the purse, hoping that maybe it would have been moved towards me by the spells like on an imaginary ribbon. But: she was gone! Restless and confused, I tried other spells, but the wallet did not appear. I ran to the place where I had put it down, looked into the entrances of the house and around one or two lonely cars nearby, but there was not a soul. The purse remained missing.

“This time they’ll beat me to death,” I thought at that time, “because now I have actually really done something bad”. Suddenly it became clear to me: the trust placed in me I had gambled away.
I no longer knew where to go and was in mortal fear for hours. At some point it got dark. After endless hours of pain, I finally crept home. Against all expectations, they were relieved and nobody hit me. That they might have been afraid for me had not occurred to me for a second.

This event had a drastic effect on my life. Today I know: that is what experiences of violence do with children – panicky fear, fear of death, perhaps also irrepressible rage.

But you know what? Since the revival, things do change. Having been gifted with re-experiencing this trauma and gaining consciousness of the deep emotions, which have been unconsciously fixed to it is freeing and sets things in motion. Finally. For this I am eternally grateful to those who helped me to loosen the (hidden and ancient) spiritual knot. It is hardly to believe: Sometimes, I feel like playing again. Harold and Maude send their regards! ☺ !
And you know what? After the lecture where this all broke open, the gold-colored embroidered ritual bag, which always contains my travel Buddha and which mysteriously had disappeared for a few days, reappeared. Life really is a mystery. It is an arrival in the here and now. I am happy and deeply grateful to life and to my dear friends for this unexpected and fundamental help. And a big Thank you to you here, dear friends, for reading this far and being here.