cocoons

Hi Maggie,

I love it!  I love your blossoming psychicness.  I know the woman was there, the mama you share sons with.  I did some editing for a young woman this week.  I gave her my email recently and told her she could send me a paper she was writing. She got really, really quiet.  She said she never met someone who did things like this for people they really don't know. She said she heard of things like this happening, but never to her.  Taking in someone's children doesn't compare, but the impulse is the same.  It feeds both sides...

Mama did something right!

I wonder what we can do to make you foster and accept your boobs. I wonder if S#4 is having a similar reaction.  I wonder if we should have some kind of a breast ceremony, complete with boobie prizes.  I like the idea of tattooing something beautiful, making the mounds a work of art.

So I could not sleep last night.  I was awake in the dark, and decided to try to find that primal part of me that is controlling me.  What I found was a sort of string tied tight at the top of my cervix. I understood this was the source of my horrible menstrual cramps.  I also heard this was why my deliveries with girls were longer and more exhausting than with at least two of my boys.  I heard, "Who would want to bring girls into this family."  (Kind of coincidental that we only have three girl cousins on Dad's side, compared to thirteen boys.)

I was trying to trace the cord, and came to our grandmothers. Both of them.  I look like one and am built like the other. I am both of them, or maybe they are me, or in me or part of me.  Each one was holding one of my hands. It was powerful.

I had all four grandparents and we were looking at the lines and we all focused on Pop.  So he was there, with his parents behind him, their parents behind them and I was suddenly angry. Maybe suddenly aware that it was possible he got to me when I was six months old.  We were moving from one base to another, and stayed there for a while on the way.   Something happened to rip of a piece of me, a piece that is still in hiding.  And so I stood up in front of Pop and that line.  And I was angry. And I called my sisters, and the four of you were with me.  Then I called our brothers - B#2 had a hard time standing.  And I called our aunts and uncles who have passed.  Then my children were behind me. And their cousins. We were a huge family continuum. And I asked everyone to send Pop love. To send as much love as we possibly could. Because even in this state, I remembered that violence is never the way to peace. Only love can heal us.  And we did it. We showered him, we baked him, until he exploded and was a young boy, about 6 or 8.   And we sent the Light back the line as far as we could see.

I understood part of the reason I hide in fat is because Grammy did. I inherited the process when I inherited her trauma.  But I look like Grandma, and so there is something of her in me.

I definitely saw that there is a cocoon inside of each of us in this family.  Each of us, each cocoon, needs to complete its metamorphosis.  I think that inside my cocoon may be the primal ruler in me, that initial shred of destroyed soul, the initial violation that showed me that this world is painful, and no one will ever protect me. It is being kept safe, as well as trying to keep itself safe.  Unfortunately, it is a child-like vision of safety, since it never grew up...

And so we wait for metamorphosis.  We wait to become new beings...

I'll be back at it tonight if I am not too exhausted.

Weirdly weirded out, but still with love and hugs,

Clare