* The Sacred Feminine Rising Healing Course * by Jeff Brown is available online. See his Face Book page if you are interested.
https://youtu.be/ZVy4ronlmME – here is Jeff talking about the work.
This is a description of one of his books Soulshaping. It is an ” inspiring memoir of an archetypal “male warrior”-a trial lawyer-who struggled to find his heart and a more authentic, soulful path. Rivetingly personal and profoundly universal, this book is for anyone who has heard a whisper of something truer calling out to them amid the distractions of modern life. Jeff Brown’s dramatic and often funny story takes readers through remarkably human experiences-emotional, physical, and economic-as he vividly recounts his troubled childhood, his success in apprenticing with Canada’s top criminal lawyer, and his ultimate decision to leave the law and begin an inner journey to discover his soul’s purpose. A work of courageous self-creation, Soulshaping reminds us that we are all truly connected, that our seemingly isolated struggles are actually part of the shared human challenge to live a life that is heart-centered and soul-driven. Both down-to-earth and magically mystical, Soulshaping will meet you where you live-and where you long to live.”
In one section of the Sacred Feminie Rising Healing Course Jeff writes –
“First, write a letter of acknowledgment and apology to yourself that
relates to what you endured in the relationship(s) you are working on
in this course, and that even relates to other past relationships. Either
write the letter from the perspective of any part of you that feels
compassion for what you have been through, OR write the letter that
you would like to receive from the man (men) you are focusing on in
this course, OR combine all the voices of acknowledgment and apology
in one letter. What would you like to say to those parts of you that
have suffered? What would you like to hear from others? If you are not
comfortable writing, then find another way to express it i.e. dance it,
art it, say it aloud.”
My Daughter and I became part of a group of women which met weekly to undertake the work. Many of those women still see and support each other and seem to have benefited from the work, the chance to concentrate on themselves and think about their lives. Here is the letter I wrote –
My Dear Wounded Self,
I am here with you and for you, just as I have always been, throughout this long life, which has been full of loss and many griefs to wrestle. Life has been a challenge right from the moment of conception. My mother was probably one of those who said when her pregnancy was confirmed “Oh! No!!”, or sat quietly filled with shame and guilt. Whether she really believed my father would marry her once he knew she was pregnant or made that story up for my benefit we’ll never know. My father disappeared into the sunset. He did know when I was born, so my mother had a way of contacting him which she never explained; she was hard to pin down and my adult self was conscious of not being too intrusive. My baby self longed to know every detail. I have never judged them or blamed them for having a relationship which resulted in my life, my existence and ultimately in the existence of the one who is dearest to me in life, my own daughter. They lived through hard times, already having survived a war which was nearly at an end although they were not to know that when I was conceived or born.
Because of that relationship, my father knew he was cheating on his wife even if my mother didn’t, I have had to live with the loss of my mother, the abuse of orphanage life, the patronising attitude of Kate Cocks who regarded us as rejects, outcasts, misfits and sinners, “the unfortunates”, the attitudes of others, stigma, instruction on how to live my life, assumptions about my behaviour, a script in which I play the grateful, good adoptee, the loss of my family history, the dislocation of removal, never being able to become part of my biological families, the confusion of having two names, the feeling of not belonging and of being alone, being part of a second-class minority, PTSD, ill-health, difficulties with boundaries, relationships, trust, security,
In treating me with disrespect, disinterest and disregard as I grew older, my afather laid the foundations for my problems in relationships with trust, abandonment, endurance and in being able to understand what was happening, to set boundaries, to analyse my reactions, feelings, goals, and to act in my own best interests. I feel I had no adequate role models and had to make my life up as I went along. My 1st Father-in-Law used me as a character in a novel, a woman with a dilemma based on assumptions he had made about my life. Other men too have used me for their own purposes and I allowed it because I knew nothing else, wanted to be loved, liked or taken seriously. Who knows what Dad’s purpose was, his intentions or his goals? I saw him playing with a young child once when I was in my early thirties. I felt sickened, embarrassed, jealous, alone, intrigued, surprised and had a multitude of very mixed emotions. At this point in writing this down I immediately had a violent stomach ache, had to rush to the toilet and wet myself on the way. Those familiar with abuse of children would draw a conclusion from that. I wondered as an adult, but could not remember any incidents bar one, when Mum was out or away and he put me to bed, making me stand naked on the bed turning round so he could see if I had any flea bites or ring-worms – both were common with multiple cats and dogs in the house and my close relationship with them all. I remember feeling uncomfortable, maybe I’ve never been really comfortable with nudity ever since. I feel vulnerable, exposed in a way which is scary, disempowered and makes me want to roll into the foetal position to protect ‘baby me’. I must have been five or six years old. Male authority figures were a problem for me for many years, making me feel afraid, nervous, ineffectual, incapable, forgetful, incompetent and less than myself in capabilities, presentation, confidence. I shrank to nothing in their presence. My 1st Father-in-Law probably helped me deal with that, as he loved me and I loved him and I learned much from him (the aforementioned book came many years later during a period of estrangement). I have always learned what I wanted to know and never did well with anything that seemed irrelevant, like Latin or Maths, although I have come to see the necessity for the first and the elegance of the second. It has been hard for me not to have my intelligence respected, to be misunderstood, misinterpreted or misrepresented. Being seen as someone I’m not, has been hard, makes me angry, fretful, impatient and implacable. I have hated it, hated Dad for his hard to interpret actions towards me which I can’t understand. While I have compassion for all the men in my life and for what they have done or not done, I no longer wish to spend any time trying to understand, accept or forgive. It’s done with. I’m done. Those who are still alive will have to deal with their own ‘issues’, do their own learning, forgive themselves, accept their mistakes and wrongs. Men are so good and practised at playing “Poor Me” – such an ignoble, demeaning place to be. My energy and enthusiasm is for other things and I’m sick of parasites, leeches and blood suckers who drain the life essence and give nothing back to replenish, renew, revive or in exchange. I continue to have new understanding, to heal, to find new ways to heal, to live life, to endure, to find joy, to deal with hatred, resentment, anger, to love, to care and to express the multitude of feelings which appear daily. I continue to learn. I hope to continue to learn until the moment I cease to breathe in this life. I have many, many opportunities, privileges, joys in my life and make sure I do. I am a survivor and will continue to be so until I chose not to be here. My life is precious, it has created and nurtured new life. I seek nothing more but patience, compassion, tolerance and an open mind.
Only yesterday my Daughter and I again had a conversation about learning being never ending, a light-hearted one about cooking and learning new ways to make food. I’m planning a vegan picnic as a birthday celebration for a non-vegan. Tricky? Not really, so many vegan recipes are suitable for all and very tasty. It will involve finger food and what my dear American friends call ‘hand pies’. Plenty of the delicious fruits that are available at present and a cake of some sort. Eaten in a beautiful setting, probably a loved and familiar beach, all will be content and happy. ❤