Moving through the Valley of Shame

I began to feel better as soon as I reentered the world. It is really only in the tangles of my isolation that I touch that pure raw edge of shamefilled lonliness, as soon as I can be useful in the world the nakedness finds at least some of its clothes. As with every shame bomb that goes off there is always the long fallout, a hangover that takes time to leave.

I had an incredible dream last night as the Storms raged outside. It was also stormy in my dream and I was walking down to the waterfall I go to sometimes in the Conwy Valley, despite the storminess of the weather I came to the waterfall to find it serene, not in spate, gentle, the water clear calm and inviting. I wavered, I hadn't brought a towel, its the middle of winter, would I not be cold?

All at once though I was in the Pool fully clothed and I thought "I wonder if I can breathe?" and I tried and I could. Like in Aquaman. I turned and admired the long view under the clear water of the waterfall pool which in real life is relatively small and the overflow of the waterfall just drops gently away in rapids. But in the dreamscape I could see as I turned slowly in the water that beyond the edge was an immense, huge, vast waterfall far far greater than this one.

In fact, this pool I was in was on a ledge that overlooked a ginormous waterfall, there were long drops and cascades and rapids, falling from far above where I was and ending far below. I rose in the water so my head was above the surface and I took it all in with Awe. Now I had the capacity to breathe under water I wondered for a second whether it would be safe to explore beyond the edge; but just as before simply in the wondering it was happening.

And I was in the massive waterfall and I was dancing, soaring in fact, then diving. Like I was a salmon or otter but to have been able to navigate that sheer force of water I would have needed to be something like a Dragon. Oh, I was a Dragon and I was rolling in the waters.

Immediately in the rolling I was rolling on the landing of a house, I was a dog and I was play fighting with another dog. Suddenly I was not the dogs, the two dogs were play fighting and I was watching. They disappeared through the railings of the bannisters and fell together down the stairs. One yelped, a Black Dog, a young labrador; he limped up the stairs. I lay him down and placed my hands around his wounded leg and he became a young boy. This young boy looked up at me and his eyes were shining with tears, he said his knee was hurting him.

I had my healing hands around his knee and I looked around to see there was a room full of medical staff, doctors and nurses, and I asked them "hey, would any of you like to offer your medicine here?" and they said No. I turned back to the young boy, who seemed to me to have indigenous qualities, he and I had a clear psychic connection. I communicated to him that all was well, he stood up with my help and he was fine. He ran around a little and turned back into the black dog, who came and lay next to me with loyalty.

This morning I have set a day aside to channel all the content, there's a lot of course content, newsletter content and the like to just get out of my head into the written word. I started by walking the dogs in the storm, then lighting the fire and having a good breakfast before settling down to meditate. All three beings, the two dogs and the cat are all touching me still; when I meditate they always congregate. I sat in silence for around an hour and 15; using my beads and a Sufi prayer to clear my mind; I then put on some music in my earphones and sat with it; it was the Maha Mantra and it moved me so much.

Initially in the cinema screen of my hearts mind I was shown my mother's inner state throughout her life to have been that same barren valley of shame piercing loneliness that I articulate; her whole preoccupation was around ensuring she would never be so abandoned again, I knew this of course, she and I even talked about it in her later years; but there was something about seeing it in my heart with the Maha mantra playing behind it that was different. I could reach the very soul of that little child she once was and gather her into my heart in love.

I then saw, again on the heart-screen, an image of the World, as seen from Space. Something happened in the sound of the Maha mantra, it started to sound like it was being sung to me. Like the voice of the singer was That, and the Mystery was singing to me. And I was Krishna, Rama, I was being called. And in that moment I saw an image of God holding the World in their lap, in the same position I was seated in and I was that God and I was holding the World and I was singing the mantra to those suffering, and I wept.

Third image on the screen was of the exile from the Garden of Eden, the doctrine of Sin, this mythology of rejection and abandonment and I remembered then that this Valley of Shame is not mine alone. The Valley of Shame is what lies beyond Eden, it is the net result of the shame imposed upon first Europe and then the world through abuse of the teachings of the man Jesus to control and break the masses, to fuel white "supremacy", slavery and colonisation, the perpetual hunger of the descendants of white Europe; severed from the Land of their ancestors, driven to consume, exploit and manipulate the people, land and resources to try to meet our unmeetable needs.

And then I saw the Valley and realised it is not so barren as I first experienced it to be. If it is the space I am exiled to then it is also the Path of Return. When I am in the most broken and vulnerable state and aware of my nakedness, vulnerability and powerlessness then I actually couldn't be closer to Love. As I said yesterday, it is the perfect state to meet God in, after all, without all my masks I am most honest self and with my masks I am not able to fully meet my Beloved. But in that seeming desert, in that bleak wilderness, there is also the Hiraeth, the longing, the seeking, the prayer, the crying out, the earnest and desperate impulse for connection.

And these things, the longing, the seeking, the crying out... these are the Green Shoots of life returning. These are the tendrils of vines that remember the innocence before the fall. And then the Return is inevitable if the prayer is honest. At the very be-wildering edge of aloneness, I am only one step away from Unity. Like being in the small waterfall pool and realising the immensity of what lies ahead, one only has to wonder and it reveals itself.

This Shame is systemic and it is the very ground upon which the Western World is built. My prayers today are that I can know it sufficiently well to remember it; but not to become mired in it for it is the most effective way for the forces of Ill to sabotage me, us, any of us from being of deep service. And realistically to heal this wound, none of us can survive that desert alone. We must gather and share the stories of our solo journeys so we can move forward, together.