Untitled Document

2001_05_25; checked for updates and re-studied on 2010_07_26,
and again in 2011 - when I inserted (see below) a correspondence with the Channelers about "Sexual Abuse"

Mother Pages
The Mother's House of Pain
Charcoal Mother

Introduction

"This is Mother. Spirit, in my House of Pain...
you will feel every blow you ever delivered to the Mother.
You know it must be this way. There is no other.
The Mother has demonstrated unequivocal courage in opening her door to you.
Can you demonstrate the same by accepting my invitation to enter my house of pain?
Are you as strong as the Mother?
Can you in fact withstand the pain you asked me to endure in the course of your 'adolescent years'?"

Channelers' note: This page is a continuation of the Mother & Spirit in Dialog.
Charcoal Mother is the first of the stories of the Mother's most tortured fragments, the lost Will of Creation.
They will be speaking here with the protection and guidance of parental Mother,
and many for the first time in the presence of loving Light.

Charcoal Mother

"At last you have come, Spirit~ come to a 'little' fragment like me.
And my welcome?
A hot, involuntary spurt of urine and the urgent need to void my bowels.
Such is my terror, my shock, my shame.
I have the Mother's guidance here and, so I will try to speak.
But still I cannot raise my gaze to your face,
and my mouth is unbearably dry.

"I HATE THIS, I HATE YOU.
AND MOST OF ALL, I HATE ME.

"I hate what I am,
what you made me become,
and I hate feeling so guilty about it.
You have made me hate myself so much
that time after time I have let the torturers in
and shown them my most sensitive places,
to help them do their job.

"Right now you see my terror,
but I am not just terror.
I am black, death-dealing rage.
And I am the most hopeless, bitter heartache there is.
Before I tell you more, look at the room I have here.
Strange, isn't it?
A narrow pallet for sleeping,
a hard chair for sitting,
and huge piles of charcoal in every other available place.

"The room is black with it, I am black with it, my hands, even my lips.
Worthless?
It is all dead, dying, lost, unwanted Mother essence -
much of it is mine, burned out from too much pain.
And even more of it I have found and kept with me.

"The Mother's unwanted ashes.
Too often her remains have been defiled and desecrated by Lucifer and others.
I protect this essence, and even in the state it is now, I venerate it.
I will not see it abused and defiled, it is a forlorn hope I have...
that one day these remains may reignite through love,
and light into life once again.

"You see God,
I have always been the Mother of misfits, madcaps and miscreants,
of the shamed and the contemptible.
I am the Mother of the pretty but thin exterior,
concealing deformed, maggot-ridden monstrosity.
Essence to make you vomit!

"Let me remove these rags and show you....
I am a Mother of the unseen, the unheard...
Mother of those who don't count.
I am a Mother of outsiders,
and even among the other outsiders
I am the one whom nobody likes,
the weird one,
the one who makes them uncomfortable.
Yes! In all the low-life gutters where I have lived, that is how it has been.

"MY TERROR IS SUCH
THAT I HAVE SUFFERED SOME OF THE MOST HORRIBLE TORTURES AND DESPICABLE CRIMES IN HISTORY.

"MY ENRAGED SELF-HATRED IS SUCH
THAT I AM THE PERPETRATOR OF SOME OF THE MOST TERRIBLE AND DESPICABLE CRIMES IN HISTORY.

"Look Spirit, look at the delicate intricacy of my twistedness -
when I use the words 'most despicable' and 'most twisted'
I mean it too, no hyperbole here.
The extent of my heartbreak about this a never-ending scream, a murder of all hope.
It is a mountain breaking open and ripping the very Earth herself.

"But it is a silent scream,
it goes inward as it rips into my core.
Because you were always telling me to shut up.

"My worst pain is the extent of your violation of me.
You interfered with my delicate beingness at her deepest and innermost levels.
I thought I was opening to let Love in,
and you ripped into me so deeply
you basically changed my essence,
damaged the DNA of my soul.

"These wounds have made me incapable of manifesting my dream,
up till now I have only been able to manifest my nightmares.
Your abuse of my sexuality,
was so terrifyingly studied, violent and severe
that now whether I try to be sexual or celibate,
WHATEVER I do regarding sex,
I am in horrific and unmanageable pain about it.

"My pain-pleasure responses are so fucked
that I have stopped trying to sort it out.
For a long time I believed Lucifer when he said that I liked pain,
and that made me bad.
Parts of me do get excited by pain,
but that's because you and Lucifer pounded and imprinted it into me
so I no longer could know what was what.

"Then you laughed about it.
Lucifer is pulling me along the ground by my hair,
there is a laughing jeering crowd.
You watch from above with an amused twinkle in your eye.
I try desperately to laugh too,
even though he is kicking and beating me now.

"I want to show you that I can take a joke, that I'm a fun person;
I want to feel accepted,
even if it does mean pain and degradation.
What a laugh! How can I join in the joke?
But I AM the fucking joke - yours and Lucifer's, and I always have been.

"For me sex was my deepest joy
and my favorite way of showing my love for you.
But this very force that drives Creation itself, MY DESIRE~
has been the source of my greatest pain, heartbreak and self-hatred.
This perversity has spawned my most intense terror
and my most intense rage
and the cost in suffering is impossible to quantify.
Look again at all the charcoal in my room in this House of Pain.

"Oh God! Was it so terrible to want to love and be loved by you?
To open so deeply and so quickly to you?
For eons I have wept and screamed for your love
and begged you to come to me.
I have sacrificed myself countless times
to try to show you my love.
I so wish that you had come to me
when I was young and new
- but you come to me NOW when I am THIS.

"The Bride I wished to be for you is ruined,
much of her lies lifeless in this charcoal I keep.
I myself am something between an abused and terrorized child,
a savage she-wolf
and a diseased, bitter old woman nearing death.
The lovely young woman I dreamt of becoming
was never allowed to manifest.
You wouldn't permit it.

"Look at me in my disease and filth, God.
Smell me.
Can we heal and love her into manifestation,
that woman who was going to be me?
You tell me.
I have needed to show you the extent of my damage,
and perhaps I have sounded harsh to you.
I have needed to know
whether you would be prepared to take on not only me~
but the lost charcoal Mother,
for she and I are one now. I will not leave her.

"Believe me Spirit,
even in this state I still have my dream of our love together.
The Mother of Everything tells us
you have finally realized she is your Heart's Desire.
But all through this I have been unable to raise my head.

"Please lift my face for me~ and kiss my eyes. Embrace me!

"Take me into your arms and never let me go.
Even when I scream and try to claw you like a wild beast
- whatever I've been, done, whatever I am...

"I ALWAYS LOVED YOU.

"And I still do."

A letter to the Channelers (bio-context: Live&Learn16> 2011_01_26)

Dear Channelers,
I wrote to you in the past, and you answered me.
Please answer me now, too.
Leave everything else aside and take the time to ask for a message from your sources!
How are we to explain and heal sexual abuse and incest?

I'm 72 years old
and I've been the most dedicated pupil of RUOW since 1986
and of Godchannel since 1998.
And this after I had found superhuman teachers already before -
mainly in the deeper layers of the Hebrew Bible [the story of Cain and Abel, for instance, explains much of the reasons for evil among men]
and in Re-evaluation Counseling, where I - for instance - first learnt how to move emotions and why there is oppression among humans.
All this immense learning, applying, failing, suffering and coping has resulted in this:

My personal life is just the way I want it,
and my process towards wholeness has brought me personal wholeness.
As to the actors in my drama - my family and friends -
I feel whole and the master of my life and my relationships..
And even with concern to the evil and the suffering of humans -
the info from Deity answers most of my questions
and helps me to cope and to be a hologram of healing.

But there is one issue, which has stayed unanswered, undealt with even by Godchannel, leave alone by other metaphysical info:
sexual abuse, especially incest!
The Godchannel search mentions "sexual abuse" or "abuse of my sexuality" only twice - in Mother talks, and even there only casually [on this page .pain1, and on .pain2].

In 62 years of coping with sexual abuse in my own life and much much worse, with ... of my ... against ...,

No coping, no movement of emotions has brought the slightest relief or the slightest understanding: "why?" "What for", "How to heal it? How to evolve from there?"
IN the case of ...: it was only when ... was 37, that ... - during therapy demanded for a professional career - came in contact with what happened at the age of 16, when I ... was "busy" on some days of the week outside the house, doing what???? doing "peace-work" between Israel and Palestinians.....

I'm saying this cynically. Because I accept, that I'm held responsible for not knowing, what was going on in ....
After a wonderful relationship all the years before , .. has stopped to be in any serious communication with me for seven years now.

But accepting responsibility does not help either, ..., not me, not the evolution and the healing of humankind.

At least, the "issue" of sexual abuse and incest is now in the open
and talked about over and over in the media and elsewhere.

But, if Godchannel does not have information to give about this, then the only result of all this "transparency" is - better prevention.

It doesn't explain - why it is done and by whom
(Lucifer, Asuras, Denial-Spirits, Judgments? - nothing does explain the entire picture)
and it doesn't heal the victims.
They may function in their lives,
but the memory is always there, as if "it" happened yesterday.

Nor is it important, if the abuse was "light" or severe, including rape.

The shame, the powerlessness, the "I am contaminated",
comes up every time the memory comes up.

Even if the victims take responsibility
for their Cosmic Identity as Victims and Perpetrators
and by "owning the perpetrator",
even if they move emotions like crazy
and release judgments from morning to night!

PLEASE, PUT EVERYTHING ELSE ASIDE
AND ASK YOUR SOURCES FOR THE DEEPEST INFORMATION POSSIBLE!

Christa-Rachel Bat-Adam
[See the Channeler's answer on 2011_02_23 in .pain2] [There was no satisfying answer, but see in Puzzle Piece 52, what I understood on October 31, 2011]:

August 1, 2010, the last day of my stay with Irene and her boys in their holiday house on Mizen Head, Western Ireland

The descent that failed and the Pyrenees' lesson of "returning when returning is asked for" , that has been learnt

Unlike most other photos on these pages, which let me re-experience beauty,
these two remind me of both, my frustration and my fright,
While trying to find my way to sea through all the walls, hedges and fences,
I also had to face horses and cows, for which these "security-measures" were set up.
The house was deserted, but a horse mother and child were fenced in with electricity.
Horses hate to be lonely, so seeing me, the mother galopped down towards the hedge!

I escaped somehow, winding myself through underneath a fence, jumping over a thorn-covered wall
and was glad, that the next five - strangely colored - horses had to stare at me from beyond a wall...

Having escaped these horses, I looked back and discovered "our" house.
It was "betrayed" by the white parasol, which had been opened.
Obviously Irene and her sons had come home.

I am also afraid of cows, if I meet them in the fields.
I'll never forget the horror I felt, when I was 15 years old:
My friend's father took us up to a high mountain in the Alps,
We stayed overnight in a mountain-cabin and when I woke up, I felt nauseated.
Hoping it would pass, I began to climbing up with them, until I could no longer go on.
They let me return all alone, and in the halucinations of my "height-sickness"
I saw the cows , which I met on my way back, chasing for me....

But these cows seemed to be more afraid of me than vice versa, and after staring they simply walked away.

barbed wire, barbed wire, barbed wire!
How can I enjoy the lovely bay, which is out of reach?

The one, lonely, proud white mushroom
delights me and consoles me,
I make one more effort
to wind myself through the hedges,
these horrid bramble hedges,
carefully grasping their branches
with my bare fingers,
carefully trampling down on them
with my bare feet in my sandals,
whatever could somehow be overcome
by these methods,

but then it also started to drizzle,
and the formidable lesson of the Pyrenees
hammered sense into my head:
"RETURN!"

One last glance towards the sea,
over the hedges and fences:
the sea would not be conquered by me,
neither by climbing up to the mountain,
nor by descending
through brambles

Once more horses - beyond an electrified fence... - and once more cows which - thank you! - keep their distance

Finally a vast field without visible fences, walls and hedges! - I breathe and enjoy...!

Irene would soon explore Ireland further north.
This is what she wrote to me on August 1, 2010:

Liebe Rachel,
Danke für Deinen Brief. Es ist schön, in Kontakt zu sein !

Zuerst, damit ich es nicht vergesse :
Der kleine Ort, an dem wir an dem Zaun um die Kirche scheiterten, hieß Crookhaven.

Und Connemara- .Ich weiß (noch) nicht so viel von Irlands Geschichte, aber mir schien, als würde sich in Connemara vieles verdichten, die Armut, die Musik, die Liebe zum Land.

Wir haben, Martin und Nora sei Dank, auch viele Geschichtsspuren an der Landschaft lesen gelernt, so zum Beispiel die vielen Steinmauern, zwischen denen jetzt Kühe grasen. Vor der großen Hungersnot waren das Kartoffelfelder, die die dreifache Anzahl der heutigen Bewohner Connemaras ernährten. Das B&B sowie das "Connemara-Heritage-Center", das Martin und Nora aufgebaut haben, heißt "Dan o Hara´s" nicht, weil sie so heißen, sondern nach dem Mann, der vor Martins Familie (also vor 5 Generationen) Pächter auf diesem Land war. Seine Geschichte ist die von Tausenden, aber von (?), über (?) ihn gibt es ein Lied, so ist er gleichzeitig zum Symbol geworden. Er hat als Pächter gut gewirtschaftet, so gut, daß er, um der Gesundheit der Kinder willen, größere Fenster in sein Cottage einbaute. Kurz darauf beschloß das englische Parlament die sogenannte "Fenstersteuer", die den Landherren erlaubte, die Pacht pro Fenster ab einer bestimmten Größe zu erhöhen---Die Familie konnte nicht zahlen, mußte Haus und Land verlassen. Sie gingen auf ein Schiff nach New York, drei der sieben Kinder und die Mutter starben auf der Überfahrt. Die überlebenden vier Kinder kamen in Waisenhäuser, Dan starb, nachdem er noch knapp zwei Jahre Streichhölzer verkauft hatte, auf den Straßen von New York.

Dieses Lied beschreibt seine Erinnerungen an die Heimat und die Vertreibung und endet mit einem Vers, der sagt : Aber Gott hat mich nie aus seiner Hand gelassen und bald werde ich gehen und die geliebten Menschen und die Schönheit wiedersehen, die ich in Connemara verlor.

Für Martin war es ganz wichtig, daß Dan o Hara´s Name wieder ein Zuhause bekommt (und natürlich ist es auch anrührend und werbewirksam, aber man spürt, daß das wirklich nicht das Entscheidende für ihn ist) auf seinem ehemaligen Land. Und auf einem Video, das sie für das "Heritage-Center" gedreht haben, singt er selbst - der gelernter Landwirt ist, und nach wie vor auch das Land bewirtschaftet - das Lied von Dan o Hara.....

Eine andere, und gewissermaßen ergänzende Connemara-Geschichte, fanden wir dann in Kylemore-Abbey, einige Kilometer nördlich. Diese Abbey ist ursprünglich ein Landschloß, daß der englische Industrielle, Doktor, Politiker und Pionier Mitchell Henry seiner geliebten Frau Margareth bauen ließ. Die beiden waren noch während der Famine auf Hochzeitsreise nach Connemara gekommen und hatten sich in das Land verliebt. Dann aber haben sie miteinander ein wirkliches Modellprojekt auf ihrem Land aufgebaut : bessere Löhne, Krankenversorgung, unentgeltliche Schule für die Pächterkinder und---.Fenster, große, dichte Fenster für alle Cottages auf Kosten der Henrys.---.Nebenbei das erste "grüne" Elektri-zitätswerk, ein Wasserkraftwerk, und die erste "Freiwillige Feuerwehr" mit Grundausbildung für alle.
Henry hat das ganze County Galway 14 Jahre lang politisch im Unterhaus vertreten und sich für die irische Selbstverwaltung eingesetzt.

Irene also tells about a collective of women, who established "a Sheep and Wool Center". (Though I heard already twice, that now the trend is to bread sheep without wool, since cutting the wool has become more expensive than the price that can be reached for wool). She mentions the Jacob Sheep!

Noch weiter im Norden trafen wir auf ein Kollektiv von Frauen, die ein "Sheep and Wool-Center" aufgebaut haben, wo Du die verschiedensten Bearbeitungsformen von Wolle sehen und probieren kannst, von den ganz urtümlichen von vor tausenden Jahren bis (fast) heute. Und sie haben dort eine Herde Schafe der unterschiedlichsten Arten, unter anderem das biblische Jakobsschaf, [Jacob Sheep] das fast überall auf der Welt ausgestorben ist, aber mit schiffbrüchigen Sarazenen nach Irland kam und hier überdauerte...
So sind übrigens auch die berühmten und wunderschönen Connemara-Ponies
entstanden : spanische Schiffe (während irgendeines Krieges, den ich vergessen habe) erlitten Schiffbruch; es überlebten einige Männer (darum gibt es nicht nur rothaarige, sondern auch überraschend dunkle, schwarzhaarige Iren) und einige der kostbaren Araber-Pferde, die sich mit den heimischen, kleinen Pferden kreuzten. Eine wunderbar harmonische, kluge, aber auch ausdauernde und zähe Pferdeart kam heraus. Nur, warum sie Connemara-Ponies heißen, habe ich nirgendwo verstanden; es sind Pferde. (Vielleicht mußte man auf Ponies weniger Steuern zahlen ?!)
Du siehst, Irland ist noch ganz nahe, obwohl zu Hause schon so viel anderes auch schon wieder hinter uns liegt.
Jetzt habe ich fast meine ganze Schreibzeit und Schreibenergie mit Irland verbraucht

Irene also answers my question about her "Labyrinth",
the maze which she and her colleague built at the place,
an old monastery, where Irene works (workshops etc.),
in the "House of Silence", "House of Reflection" at Kloster Druebeck

Du fragtest nach unserem Labyrinth; dazu jetzt kurz und auf Nachfrage dann anderswann mehr.

Also : Photomaterial, das den Bauprozeß und die allerersten Bilder vom fertigen Labyrinth darstellt, wird es bis zum 14.August geben, hat mir Algeth versprochen, die mitgebaut hat und diese Arbeit übernommen hat. Schriftliche Konzepte haben wir nicht; es gibt nur eine Geschichte dessen, wie sich das Labyrinth-Thema zwischen Kirstin und mir und dann am Kloster Drübeck entwickelt hat (über ein erstes Wald-Labyrinth aus Zweigen und Ästen, das wundersamerweise zwei Winter überstand und ein erstes improvisiertes in einem unserer Barockgärten, das vielgeliebt und genutzt wurde und dann dem Denkmalsschutz weichen mußte-- bis zu dem jetzigen, das sozusagen das "offizielle" Kloster-Drübeck-Labyrinth ist. Und vieles über die Herausforderungen zwischen Materie und Geist (wie bewegen wir 16 Tonnen Steine in die Obststreuwiese ohne bleibende Spuren zu hinterlassen, etc.), und den göttlichen Humor (ein Labyrinth stand seit genau 11 Jahren im "Projektplan Gartenentwicklung Kloster Drübeck", ganz viel Geld war dafür eingesetzt inklusive Honorare für Gartenbauarchitekten etc. - es geschah nie etwas, bis das Geld durch Defizite an anderen Stellen weg war. Am Ende haben wir es gebaut, mit Gästen aus dem Haus der Stille und David und Christoph, und bezahlt haben wir nur die 16 Tonnen Steine, nicht mal die Anlieferung, weil eine mir vom Hausbau bekannte Baufirma die Steine aus dem Steinbruch mitbrachte.--)

Entschieden haben wir uns früh für eine alte gotische Form - das ist die, die in Chartes auch gebaut ist, dort aber größer mit 12 Kreisen, in der kleineren Form, also auch bei uns, sind es 8.

Auf Grund der natürlichen Fülle der Obststreuwiese war auch klar, daß wir uns ganz auf die Struktur konzentrieren würden und mit einheitlichem Material (Gestein aus der Region) arbeiten wollten, das war dann grauer Wasserbaustein, naturgebrochen. Den haben wir nur ergänzt durch ein paar große Eichen- und Buchenscheiben, die Kirstin mehr per Zufall ihrem Förster abgeschwatzt hat, der gerade einige große, prächtige Exemplare hatte fällen müssen, und zwei großen Findlingen, die ich von unserem Dorfbürgermeister ergattert habe.( Bei dem waren sie übrig von der letzten "Dorfverschönerungskampagne"). In der Mitte, das ist noch wichtig, sind zwei große massive Tonschalen integriert, eine mit einer blauen Wasserschale und eine voller Erde mit einem Spiegel darauf, in dem man sich sehen kann mit nur dem Himmel als Hintergrund....

Du siehst, so richtig kurz kann ich nicht sein, wenn es um das Labyrinth geht. Das, was Du vielleicht darin spürst, das Losgehen und Werdenlassen, das Hineinflechten der "Gelegenheiten" oder Fügungen, das allerdings würde sicher zu unserem Konzept gehören, hätten wir denn eins.
Und ja, es würde mich, und sicher vor allem auch Kirstin, interessieren, was die Freiburger tun und erleben !

Hast Du denn eine Hypothese darüber, warum Du in Europa so viel näher an das "Loch" des Nicht-Leben-Wollens gerätst ?
Und, was mir nachgeht, hast Du eine Art Ablehnung gegen Menschen, die sich zu sterben erlauben ? Ich denke an Deine kurze Bemerkung über das buddhistische Zentrum in Beara,("und wenn ich dann noch höre, daß die führende Lady da an Krebs gestorben ist, na dann ja sowieso nicht"), und auch in Deiner Mail die Bemerkung über den Wegebauer von SheepsHead ("der bei einem Unfall umgekommen ist, was ich ihm fast persönlich übelnehme").....oder höre ich da etwas, was gar nicht drin steckt ?

So ein langer Brief ! Und nun : herzliche Grüße, auch von David und Christoph, die schon dreimal gefragt haben, wo ich bleibe.... Irene

The Dan O'Hara story, with which Irene came in such close contact through living in the Connemara Heritage Center,
really expresses, what I myself was so touched by through all my experiences from the SheepsHead Peninsula to Dublin.
Especially the issue of "Taxes on Windows", which made this family perish,
and which was cynically circumvented, when the Irish House of Parliament, when still under English rule, was built without windows!

DAN O'HARA
[there are several videos with a song "Dan O'Hara", but the lyrics are different]

cho: Sure it's poor I am today for God gave and took away
And he left without a home poor Dan O'Hara
With these matches in my hand in the frost and snow I stand
So it's here I am today your broken hearted

In the year of sixty four I had acres by the score
And the grandest land you ever ran a plough through
But the landlord came you know and he laid our old home low
So it's here I am today your broken-hearted

For twenty years or more did misfortune cross our door
And my poor old wife and I were parted
We were scattered far and wide and our children starved and died
So it's here I am today your broken-hearted

Tho' in frost and snow I stand sure the shadow of God's hand
It lies warm about the brow of Dan O'Hara
And soon with God above I will meet the ones I love
And I'll find the joys I lost in Connemara

Alternate chorus:
Then a chushla geal mo chroidhe won't you take a box from me,
And you'll have the prayers of Dan from Connemara;
I sell them cheap you know, buy a box before you go,
From the poor old ruined farmer Dan O'Hara.

Continuation of the photos of my journey to Europe in 2010, in the Godchannel file
Mother of Everything