Here is an excerpt from the next book in The Recapitulation Diaries. I am a few months away from finishing the recapitulation. If you’ve been following my experiences and reading my books you might remember it was a three-year-long journey of intense inner work. As the third year was nearing its end, the recapitulation intensified, my old self and my old world attachments not willing to give up so easily. As they say, it’s always darkest before dawn. Here is the excerpt:
February 4, 2004
I wake in a panic at six a.m., mind and body vibrating so hard I fear that I’m shattering, breaking apart into a million tiny pieces, turning to dust between the covers of my bed. Why now, when I’ve worked so hard to bring myself together? I breathe and breathe and breathe, willing myself back together with every breath I take. Pushing the panic away, I remind myself of why I’m doing this recapitulation: for life, for wholeness, for oneness, for the joining of my two souls. And then I remember that I woke in the night in fiery pain! I cried, calling out, “Sorry, sorry, sorry,” whimpering as the pain tore through me. Gradually the pain stopped and I fell back to sleep. It was like a bad dream, but it was no dream at all; it was an old memory searing through me.
Why am I still suffering such pain? What is the point of it? And why did I feel I had to apologize? I was the one in pain and yet I felt I had to apologize, and for some crazy reason it worked, it made the pain go away. Now I lie still, just breathing, turning myself over to the safe hands of my guides, knowing that they won’t let me die. It’s not my time. It’s time now to finish this healing journey.
Eventually, I’m able to move my body and get out of bed. If I can just get through the next few days and months, I’ll be fine, I tell myself. I make coffee and set my sights on the day ahead. I have a meeting with an outdoor art committee, an article to write, an illustration to do, and a decorative painting job to start, so all of that will keep me busy. The key is to remain busy.
To whom was I apologizing last night? To the abuser? It felt as if I were apologizing to him for killing him off, for having to commit this act of war against him, for we are at war as I seek to take back my energy. Or perhaps I was apologizing to my inner girls because we are leaving those old familiar places of pain and comfort, of fear and depression, where everything is so known and predictable, and so strangely safe. It’s striking how pain and comfort are so terribly linked. But the apology worked, the pain eased, and I fell easily back to sleep.
“Something wants you to go back,” Chuck said to me yesterday. “Do the movements [Magical Passes] to counter it. Every time you go through a major shift something wants to pull you back. Fight it.”
Everything is shifting and changing now and I’m feeling the full brunt of it, a head-on collision of the old and the new.
© 2020 J. E. Ketchel, Dreaming All The Time, Volume 5 of The Recapitulation Diaries
