Red Emma
Memory aid: Amethyst? Quartz Crystal?
I tried both this afternoon. I'm trying to remember -- to remove its sting -- something that happened to me when I was five years old. Both my therapist and today's 3-card Moon Garden reading said it's important that I do. The feelings it caused need to be confronted and destroyed. Vaporized.
This afternoon I came to my little room, sat on the couch with a quartz crystal in one hand and an amethyst ball (about 2 inches in diameter) in the other.
I closed my eyes and counted down into a meditative state, then retrieved the time (about 1930 on a farm near Spokane, WA). I visualized the farm house, the yard, my parents putting luggage, and my brother and sister into the car for the several hour drive to Yakima. Then getting in and driving off down the lane. Without me.
It had been explained to me that I would stay for six months with the grandparents whose farm it was. I loved them dearly, but my five year old heart was broken. I felt I was a terrible child if my mother and father would drive off and leave me behind.
Now, as I write this, I can see the little girl I was running down the lane behind the car, waving and shouting and crying. I wanted to go home.
I didn't -- go home -- until I was ten. AFter that first rush of guilt and terror, it was a magical time. I went to a 1930's country school, which was just about like all the books you've ever read about those little red schoolhouses. Although mine was white clapboard. I played in the woods and helped Grandad milk the cows and Granny feed and care for the chickens. I loved it most of the time. After a while I couldn't remember what either of my parents or my siblings looked like.
Also, since displaying unseemly emotions was strictly forbidden in those strict and forbidding times, I shoved the terror and guilt at being abandoned out of my mind. Until recently, I had no idea what destruction it had set loose in my system, and was wreaking on me.
Odd. Neither the amethyst nor the quartz crystal helped my memory, nor dredged up the old, buried terror. But writing this did. I hope it's not too much of a downer.
I tried both this afternoon. I'm trying to remember -- to remove its sting -- something that happened to me when I was five years old. Both my therapist and today's 3-card Moon Garden reading said it's important that I do. The feelings it caused need to be confronted and destroyed. Vaporized.
This afternoon I came to my little room, sat on the couch with a quartz crystal in one hand and an amethyst ball (about 2 inches in diameter) in the other.
I closed my eyes and counted down into a meditative state, then retrieved the time (about 1930 on a farm near Spokane, WA). I visualized the farm house, the yard, my parents putting luggage, and my brother and sister into the car for the several hour drive to Yakima. Then getting in and driving off down the lane. Without me.
It had been explained to me that I would stay for six months with the grandparents whose farm it was. I loved them dearly, but my five year old heart was broken. I felt I was a terrible child if my mother and father would drive off and leave me behind.
Now, as I write this, I can see the little girl I was running down the lane behind the car, waving and shouting and crying. I wanted to go home.
I didn't -- go home -- until I was ten. AFter that first rush of guilt and terror, it was a magical time. I went to a 1930's country school, which was just about like all the books you've ever read about those little red schoolhouses. Although mine was white clapboard. I played in the woods and helped Grandad milk the cows and Granny feed and care for the chickens. I loved it most of the time. After a while I couldn't remember what either of my parents or my siblings looked like.
Also, since displaying unseemly emotions was strictly forbidden in those strict and forbidding times, I shoved the terror and guilt at being abandoned out of my mind. Until recently, I had no idea what destruction it had set loose in my system, and was wreaking on me.
Odd. Neither the amethyst nor the quartz crystal helped my memory, nor dredged up the old, buried terror. But writing this did. I hope it's not too much of a downer.
