by Maddy Schafer
On 12-12-2014 I felt the prompt to take my camera when I walked to the top of the hill. Arrived at the top to see this brooding cloud hanging right over the harbour. Strange light and beautiful colours.
What shall I write of my transition into 2015? How I had no holiday to speak of? How I got so stressed by circumstance and necessity that my adrenals crashed and I followed? How an unrecognised abscess of trauma was accidentally and perfectly and painfully sliced open so I could heal it?
Although it would be a dramatic and interesting story I'd rather give you something you can use.
This year I'll keep sharing my life journey with you, but you'll notice a shift. It's time I tackled something I've always found close to impossible - to share, to teach, to explain, the nuts and bolts of how I heal myself. Because this is the basis of how I help others do the same.
If we manage to explain it well we hope to be of service to you, to help you empower yourself for healing. Because you are the only person to do this for yourself. All others merely facilitate - you are your own and only healer.
I've tried to explain our processes before and got bogged down in detail, and the thousand different ways healing processes can unfurl. By the same token I've been unable to create or even describe generic healing processes, because I see how precisely crafted each individual's healing process is.
A still morning inspired an attempt to photograph the beauty of grass flowers. You can see just a few pollen grains falling out of the flowers into the breeze.
Now ensyth encourage me to explain my own process as it has unfolded in recent weeks. But not as a story. Rather as a teaching tool. Something you can use. Like a facsimile, or a template, or a guide to, and maybe even through, your own experience.
So bear with me as I fumble. It's strange trying to put shape around this. Here goes.
All healing begins with something out of place. Out of balance. Out of tune. It can be anything from a tiny jarring note in an otherwise sweet symphony, to the cacophony of a train-wreck.
Sometimes you notice dissonance all of a sudden. Sometimes it takes hours, days, weeks or longer to make itself heard.
The dissonance that split me open early in the new year has been with me since I was so young as to have no memory of anything different. It was wallpaper, and wallpaper inevitably has to shout very loudly to be heard. Here's how my wallpaper looked as 2014 drew to a close:
Along with my beloved I spent Christmas day with my elderly mother. She's quite disabled with arthritis and was upset by the changes in routine brought on by the holiday period. She missed her usual patterns and helpers. She was happy to see us but it was a lot of work and emotionally stressful.
Before the holiday season mum asked me to contact my 2 sisters and arrange a family gathering in the new year. I set it up, and had very mixed feelings about seeing them. They are both great people, we just have very little in common, and we hadn't been together for a long time.
From Christmas to when my sisters visited I spent a lot of time at mum's place. She had a small accident on Boxing Day and needed me to help her at home the next day. After that, her garden needed heaps of work and it was a good reason to be there and help her feel less lonely. I didn't go every day but the time I spent was a big chunk of time I would otherwise have used doing stuff at home, some of it time dependent. And it was emotionally stressful.
When I was at home, it was hard to get mum out of my mind. I was very aware of her. Too aware. I knew I was getting fed up, but I didn't feel I had any other options. I was hanging out for my sisters to arrive, and for some space on the morning of that day.
I knew this wallpaper. I knew I found it hard to be around mum, and I knew I felt isolated from my sisters, and in truth, even as I knew they care about me, I felt unsupported. I never said this was (or is) accurate, it's just how I felt.
I had been struggling to find a better way to be around mum in those 2 difficult weeks, because it seemed the only way I could survive was in 'shutdown' mode. A kind of practical, distant and rather hard factual-ness. Fortunately she can't perceive the difference between when I am relaxed and open and streaming energy and when I'm in this state, so it causes her no pain. I don't think she's ever been able to notice that kind of stuff. It's nobody's fault, just how it is. In any case, try as I might I couldn't find a better way to handle it.
Sooner or later, something turns up the volume enough that you hear your internal dissonance.
Maybe the colleague who lightly teases you at work reactivates (for the thousandth time) the niggling pain you remember from being teased mercilessly at school for something now irrelevant, but vitally important at the time. And for once, for whatever reason, you pay attention, instead of pushing it down. (This is not me.)
Maybe you find yourself following a chain of thought that leads to a dark and strange place you've forgotten. And you remember, and think 'ouch'. Or 'ick'. Or 'no, I'm not going there, no matter what'. (This has been and still is me, from time to time.)
Maybe your elderly mother asks you to take her to the doctor on the morning you were going to have to yourself. And then briefly loses the plot at you because she's stressing about remembering the PIN on her EFTPOS card. And with those 2 words, twice repeated, in THAT tone of voice, slices open the cellular memory of every word she ever spoke at you in frustration or anger. And there were many. Because she was so unwell when you were young.
This was me. Fortunately we had to wait for her prescription, so I had 15 minutes to go to the loo, quietly rage and cry a bit, wash my face, and stooge around the shop getting myself into some kind of order so I could take her home.
Which I did. Got everything organised, aware of being very angry. Very sad. Actually had an opportunity to say to her 'Please don't ever speak to me like that again'. And took it. And had to repeat it because she's deaf. And split apart. I remember her looking at me with... what was it... curiosity? Almost wonder? I don't think she's ever seen me so distressed as an adult.
She was kind, and said I could tell her how I felt. It was perhaps the most honest, even the sweetest, communication we've had, although I don't think she understood at all, and she may not remember now. There's no blame, I know how hard it was for her when we were young. I understand better now, that it was hard on me too.
The new moon on 24 December. You can actually see the silhouettes of craters.
I left, got home, unpacked, and washed the dishes, because it's something simple and peaceful and I can look out of my kitchen window at my garden. And it creates order out of chaos and I can do that when I'm out of my mind. And I was.
I finished the dishes and went into the lounge to face myself. Couldn't stop crying. Realised that this was some serious shit I was dealing with. As in, surprisingly, apparently, it was something at the level of trauma. Reminded myself not to fight it, because everything passes, everything flows through, to just go with it.
I know it's taken a while but here's the point. When you notice dissonance or pain or an irritating or uncomfortable feeling, pay attention.
Another walk, just a few days ago. This beauty waiting on the other side of the hill.
Pay attention when it's just tiny, before it needs to grow into a mountain.
Listen to yourself. See yourself. Feel yourself.
And pass no judgement on what you see or hear or feel. Let it be.
And if like me you have wallpaper that must screech painfully to be noticed, give yourself as much space as you can when you finally realise what's going on. Because it can hit you like a Mac truck. Or it can just be like a little itch that doesn't go away when you scratch.
Please. Pay attention.
Give yourself this love, to pay attention.
Now I've got this far, I know this information will be given in 2 parts. It's like ensyth are sending me a signal - enough for now.
There's huge healing power in paying attention to yourself! Try it. Just try it. Please, if you will.
Give yourself complete, loving and undivided attention - to your joys and your successes and your strengths, as well as to your struggles and pains and weaknesses. Whether they're small and can speak to you gently, or they're large and raging.
All are valid and beautiful parts of You.
The water was so softly beautiful, like an embrace.
If you think it insane that struggles and pains and weaknesses could be valid and beautiful parts of you, I hope this will make more sense after you read the second half of this transmission. I'll explain what I do after I've noticed what's going on, and how trauma can become treasure.
Because it can, and it has, and it will.
PS: Would you like to be the Creator in your life? We're cooking up simple and enjoyable opportunities for you to do just this! If you're not already in our loop, we invite you to sign up so you're the first to know when they're ready.
Or invest in one of our one on one sessions where you can find the answers to your questions, as you meet YourSelf in the safety of the ensyth space.
Visit Maddy Schafer at www.ensyth.com
Maddy is a graduate – and forever a student – of the University of Life. She holds a ‘Masters’ in energy and crystal work, empathy and perception, and a ‘PhD’ in other lives, dimensions and places beyond Earth, DNA activation and intuitive quantum stuff. She knows that Earth is not her home and draws upon a galactic heritage of many lives in other star systems, and other dimensions outside this Universe.
An abiding interest in yoga, nutrition, bio-identical hormone replacement and detoxification gives practical balance to her energy work. Her knowledge springs from first-hand experience of adrenal fatigue and low thyroid function due to toxicity, stress and genetics.
Maddy is also ensyth – a collective consciousness which con-currently exists in another dimension. ensyth chose to send a part of itself here, to learn from the experience of being an individual, and to make the collective’s wisdom, compassion and ability to co-create change available to humanity.
ensyth-maddy loves to teach Mastery, and then watch with joy as people create their own miracles. They love to help people remember their I-Am-ness and their own ability to heal themselves.