The more joy, clarity, transparency and exuberance you feel

…the clearer the evidence that you truly individuate…Individuation meaning ultimately that you are actually ridding yourself of the generational collective madness which steals and gives itself to be your true life.

Why has it to be us? – a dialogue between Melanie and me

The sickness of our ancestors – passed down as generational pain – will haunt us until someone has enough support and awareness to face and move through that ancient grief. (Toko-pa Turner)

– Shit, why has it to be us?

– Indeed so…That was too much for them, I guess. They had to lie in order to survive. This doesn´t make them into more forgivable cowards. They could get around with those lies. We can´t.

– I know, it was too painful for them! Sometimes I wonder how they could survive and built up a life as well. Thus, it was quite an effort. Still, sometimes it seems unfair that it has never been talked about. They never faced the pain which we have to do now.

They built up a life of shards…- and the actual effort is to fight against and stubbornly deny this evidence. IT IS UNFAIR THAT ALMOST NO ONE DARES TO SPEAK ABOUT THAT. If unconfronted, these consciously maintained lies are our downfall. Either we have the guts to go through and give a name to this pain, or we simply perish.

– True Julien!

– So the question is: Where do we get that support from? Meaning that WE NEED TO ASSUME THE RESPONSIBILITY OF SPEAKING OUT THE TRUTH, and back up each other…

– Yes, it helps to write about it. Talk about it, don’t accept the silence!

–  For sure, it does help to write or talk – but above all, what we need is facing and internalizing this Truth and speak it out boldly, whenever it´s required.

THE TRUTH IS ITS OWN ACTION!

Ancestral Healing – if you heal the past, you heal your future

I reblog here this amazingly meaningful article by Toko-pa Turner.

“One of the most powerful dreams I was ever given was a visitation from my maternal Grandfather who came to me as an adult, twenty years after he died.

Like many ancestral dreams, it was singularly vivid and more lucid than everyday dreams.

I looked into the bright clarity of his eyes, felt the warmth and weight of his hand on my shoulder, and recognized the melody of his thick accent even though I was 7 years old when last I heard it.

A great stillness stretched around us as he looked at me tenderly and said, “I’m sorry for having given you my eyesight.”

Towards the end of her life, my Granny told my brother and I many stories she’d kept secret for a lifetime. She spoke of many unfathomable atrocities, and the near-death miracles that kept my Grandparents alive.

But there’s one story in particular which haunts me, of a long walk they took together to escape Poland at the end of the war. My Granny always told it with pride for the man my Grandfather was, how he covered her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see the piles of corpses strewn by the roadside.

“Nothing influences children more,” Jung says, “than the silent facts in the background.” Survivors of the Holocaust mostly take one of two ways to cope with the horror they lived through: One is to speak at length about their experiences, and the other is to never speak of it at all. My Grandpa was a never-speaker. In fact, it wasn’t until my mother was in her fifties that we found out he was Jewish.

“The child is so much a part of the psychological atmosphere of the parents,” Jung writes, “that secret and unsolved problems between them can influence its health profoundly. The participation mystique … causes the child to feel the conflicts of the parents and to suffer from them as if they were its own. It is hardly ever the open conflict or the manifest difficulty that has such a poisonous effect, but almost always parental problems that have been kept hidden or allowed to become unconscious.

What Jung calls “participation mystique,” is the deep enmeshment that can happen in intimate relationships when an individual doesn’t do the inner-work to heal their unconscious pain. The wounds get passed through the generations, metastasizing through our relationships and literally shaping our children’s lives. The sickness will stay in the family tree until someone in the outer branches has enough support and awareness to face and move through that ancient grief.

Perhaps my Grandpa had to bury his pain in order to survive his lifetime. Indeed, it was too much for one generation to bear. He came to me in the dream to apologize for having passed on what he denied, and while I recognize the echoes of inherited shame, anxiety and despair in my own psyche, I also understand that it is the privilege and responsibility of my lifetime to heal the trauma, past and future, personal and collective alike.

As Paul Levy so beautifully puts it, “we have the precious opportunity to liberate these ancestral, rhizomic strands of trauma which extend far back in time and equally far into the future, but which also converge and are spread throughout the present in the form of the society and culture in which we live. We can be the ones to break the link in the chain and dissolve these insidious, mycelium-like threads, which are literally the warp and woof upon which the tapestry of the past, present, and future history of our species is woven.

Who am I…? Who are you?…Writing as living the True Story

Most people on this planet have no idea Who they are – that is quite evident…That because it´s no one there in the beginning of our lives to guide us towards self-knowledge. Instead, we are all relentlessly turned into some depersonalized instruments to serve a faceless existence.

Writing for me is unraveling myself, finding out Who I Am. Understanding myself. It is my weapon in this peculiar and perilous Odyssey of self-discovery. Indeed, writing is about deconditioning myself from the bullshit imposed by my family, school and society.

And in this process of inner questioning and self-examination, I naturally find that my
inherent Meaning has been there all the time, but wasn´t discernable for my perception.

No, I couldn´t see myself, as I WAS A STRANGER IN MY OWN LIFE.

When I think of it I am overwhelmed by sadness.

For so many years, in fact, all my so-called life up to now, it was not me living, but other people´s nightmares – huge and chaotic generational pain, others´ dire unfulfillment, in truth, my ancestors un-lived lives were howling inside my soul, those hoarse voices calling themselves “me”…

These blind and inertial complexes quashed my sense of self – my sense of a meaningful relation with the true Me. In the last months such outlandish and ruthless battles have taken place BOTH WITHIN AND WITHOUT – these delirious forces having incredible power to manifest so-called outward events.

These forces are what we call “destiny”…- that´s the most difficult thing to fathom.

THESE FORCES´ INSIDIOUS AGENDA IS TO KEEP YOU AWAY FROM THE TRUE YOU – from realizing who you truly are.

Nobody wants to face or acknowledge the truth in its overarching depth – I was totally on my own in this abyssal dispute, with no one beside me. I seem to have made it – so far. Fact of the matter is that after such a combat either you crumble or you come out alive – that is, enlightened. It would be preposterous to claim that I am enlightened, but, the very fact that I came out alive after these battles, points to that direction – Illumination.

Know that to retrieve your True Soul, your Inward Meaning, is the most difficult task in this world:
To individuate. To become You.

Unless you want to live someone else´s life, you will have to take this initiatory journey back to Who You Really Are. Who you truly are is life´s highest meaning. If you find your immanent Meaning you have found the living source of Creation.

You have to start telling your True Story. And in this sense, Writing is your torch in the process of self-discovery, your only weapon in the combat of the inner and outer darkness.

Not more. Not less.