(Your Word is sown on the fertile earth of my soul and sprouts only to be choked by the weeds and thorns of my attachment to the outer world. In the tenderness of green sprouting, pathology pollutes Your word. Grabs It, harbors It - either by suppressing or twisting It into something used to trick others into believing, is Your word. This blasphemy damages – every other breathe is an exhaled contagion of Your Word.)
Dear Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. I will walk where you tell me to. I will make mistakes and need your constant help. I am finally learning to discern the polluted from the pure in me, but it only the beginning. I am a novice and often cannot find the fertile ground in my soul that is truly ready to receive your seed and reap.
There is a flood of writing in me that I withhold and believe there are certain times and ways and means to write. This is not true. It is a lie that the pathology tells me to keep me bound in the horrid trap of believing that there can be peace created out of earthly life if it only managed just so.
I feel resistance now. Like I am trying to convince myself that I could be your servant, like I am trying to convince You that I really will do your will, like I don’t fully believe that I am Your chosen one, or ‘much less’, that I too could be a pencil, a polishing cloth in Your hand. Polishing cloth.
“Know that I will always be with you. In the darkest hours. And there will be dark. Know that I will always be with you.”
“This is your work now”, says the Anima and she shows me the symbol.
The symbol is me. Straight arrow clear shot direct and yes, I am a penis. All of me engorged and ready. The spear is my name sake. Two sweeping curves, joined in grace, create a settling place, a vessel into which I find myself receiving His love. This, You have given me and This I will serve. Not for me. Not for the earthly aims – the nice house, the happy family, the looking good, the appearance of being a good employer, being a worthy citizen, neither the hidden rack of shame that binds me down in self loathing, self degradation, abuse. None of this.
The phallus and the vessel is the gift You have provided so that I may do Thy will. Thy will.
In my latest dream, I see a man in a car and he has a gun and I am scared. Then He points it at me and He is going to kill me and I am terrified.
My homework is to feel This Fear! And let Him shoot me. I must know that every time I feel fear in my daily life, it is really a projection of This Fear. Rather than projecting this fear into the many situations in life where I am afraid, I can ‘introject’ This Fear.
When I was given this homework in my session, I began to feel utterly blank and disassociated. This is what happens when I do not want to feel the fear. I must also recognize when I am ‘blank/disassociated” in daily life (which happens a lot!) and allow myself to feel the fear of dying to His will. I must know that all of my fear in daily life – inner and outer, is This Fear of dying. And let Him shoot.