There is no such thing as "Past": Infant self soul retrieval

Since I see this human daily life in the same way I view the sleeping dreamtime --it's all a dream-- then it seems quite ironic that the kitten, Sufi, is outside my bedroom door meowing incessantly to get in. 

Practically speaking I know what happens if I let her in, she will climb all over me attempting to chew on my face and clamor all over the laptop keyboard.  I want to get these words down before the wee one arrives.  Irony, irony....

As often happens, I woke from sleep with a very small part of a song in my head, "I surrender".  I recognize the song, as it fades from my memory, but am unable to find the version of it on iTunes.  Anyway, even though when this normally happens I like to find the lyrics and get the 'bigger' meaning from the song, I'll let that little cybersurfing distraction go.

The point is, the song is telling me a part of me is willing to surrender, to surrender something that has been held.  Stay with me, this will all come together.

Yesterday I went for an ayurvedic consultation with Heidi Sherwood at the Sapphire Day Spa (http://www.sapphiredayspa.com).  I don't see myself as a 'day spa' kind of guy, but my partner had seen Heidi and been very impressed by her knowledge so I thought I would give it a try.  It was an excellent experience which I would highly recommend to everyone.  You can check out Sapphire's website for more information about ayurveda, but suffice it to say it is a 5,000 year old body of knowledge that became the basis for both Chinese and Indian medicine/healing practices.

Do I seem to be rambling, distracting...?  Hmmm....

After reading my pulses and looking at my tongue she described what she saw: a groove down the middle of my tongue that is representative of grief.  Intuitively she sensed that this stemmed from the experience of being alone and abandoned as an infant, wondering when is anyone going to come?  I know this to be a real experience for me as a child and it is not a stretch to see how this would have happened as an infant as well.

Heidi's suggestion, which frankly made me smile and squirm a little bit, was to do a meditation where I visit my new born self, hold him, and share my love with him. For those of you who know me and/or the work I do, you will know I do soul retrievals with people quite frequently --reclaiming lost soul essence that became separated from us due to some form of trauma.  My squirming came from my superego's judgment that I "should" have already done this for myself. [Superego: picture a very powerful voice in your head that was fully formed by the time you were 3 years old; where you learned everything it needed to know about good, bad, right and wrong; then like a prison warden it keeps you confined in a tiny ego prison cell-like experience of the role(s) you are supposed to play in this life.]

When I was first training in ancient, universal Shamanic healing practices I experienced a powerful soul retrieval of my 7 year old and 16 year old selves.  The former being the most impactful as I reclaimed his innocent playfulness and took him out of a very painful life experience.

So... the kitten has gone quiet at the door.  Has she given up and wandered off in search of comfort somewhere downstairs, or is she waiting quietly outside the door, waiting for me to let her in?

Waking this morning with "I surrender" repeating in my head I decided to attempt the suggested meditation/soul retrieval of my infant self.  I was shocked at the level of distraction that emerged in my psyche.  I managed to visualize the hospital and the baby care area --the one filled with clear plastic bins, like fridge vegetable drawers, all lined up in rows to be monitored by nurses.  I saw what I perceived to be my infant self, having become untucked from that swaddled, tight roll they put babies in to reduce the frantic shock of being outside the mother's womb in this overwhelmingly expansive world.

As I approached this imagined infant self, I reached out my hands, very much wanting to lift him out of that sterile place and hold him.  But, all I found when I pulled my arms back was a stack of plastic clothes hangers!  I know, weird right?

Upon seeing the hangers I immediately flashed to a drawing I did many years ago of a room filled with those metal rolling coat racks --the kind used by hotel valets to wheel around luggage and hanging clothes.  The drawing depicted a vision I had of all these racks of clothes and spinning balls of light hovering around them.  This was my perception, at the time, of how our souls choose the life we are going to enter in our next incarnation; like choosing a suit to wear, or a role to play as it were.

I can see in this moment how many roles I have played in this life.  From the simple and practical son, friend, boyfriend, student, lover, husband... to the more complicated roles where my identity was more deeply entrenched in ideas, beliefs and stories.  These latter roles are the ones that transcend "male, human, friend" identities by adding in the spices and rotting vegetables of the soup that becomes "me: pitiful, abandoned child who never did it right enough to get the love I deserved" --a story, or one like it, that we all construct, renovate, and defend with our minds.

Clearly there is no such thing as "Past".  As we grow and age we drag along our pains and our joys like family jewels that must be guarded against intruders.  Like those 'crazy' moments of awareness that try to get us to open to the possibility that we can let go of our attachments to historic wounds, heal our separation from our true selves, reclaim lost soul essence, and Be in this moment right now.

I'm going to let the kitten in.  She is never pissed off if she has to wait, but rather always delighted to be let in.

I will definitely revisit, over the next 24 hours, my meditation/soul retrieval with my infant self.  I'll let you know how it goes.

Edward