HEALING THE FATHER WOUND

It’s 11:11am now on the island of Bali and thru divine timing this is the time where I have decided to write about my experiences with healing the father wound within me. I did not premeditate this, I just happened to look at my phone because it beeped and saw the date and time. It’s the angel number for growth and enlightenment. Seeing this number is a reminder to actively work toward this growth and to acknowledge where I am and where I am going on my spiritual journey. I feel if you wait for a sign to start working on yourself you have already missed the bus. I feel working on yourself is your birthright and the reason for being a human. But also, I know things are revealed when you are ready to see and heal them.

After 50 years of life on this planet it seems funny that I only recently realized that there was such a thing as a father wound. It has shifted my understanding of the processes that I have gone through in my journey towards healing, growth, and self-discovery. The father wound is a disconnect within you that is mirrored by your relationship with your father. But not just your biological father but any father figure or male authority in your life. This mirror might have been expressed in your life experience of these men as emotionally unavailable, unsupportive, physically absent or who exhibited toxic characteristics like abuse, narcissism, and manipulation. It is important to understand that your father tried his best with what resources and mental situation he was in. It is more constructive to view the consequences of your interaction with this wound in whomever it was presenting itself as opportunities for your self-healing and growth. If you learn to transcend it, then it no longer has power over you and disappears from your field completely. However, the control switch for this transcendence is actually inside of you and needs to be extracted. I am writing this out of great compassion and gratitude that finally, after 50 years of life in this human body and after many lifetimes of struggle with wounded masculine energy, I am free.

The possible symptoms of the father wound are:

·       Low self-esteem & low confidence

·       Chronic anxiety and depression

·       Angry outbursts and rage

·       Self-criticism, shame and feeling ‘not good enough.’

·       Difficulties keeping healthy boundaries. 

·       Gravitating towards partners who are emotionally unavailable.

·       Self-sabotaging behaviors that hinder growth

·       Refusal, inability, or lack of desire to thrive.

·       Excessive laziness and procrastination

·       Ongoing struggles with addictions

·       Inability to trust men

·       feeling like no one truly has your back.

·       Being highly isolated

·       Issues with authority (mistrust, resentment, paranoia)

·       Being highly reactive to criticism

Going through this list myself checking which items I have experienced I would say all of them. The exception would be the lack of desire to thrive, which I have always had. Armed with this precious jewel and divine grace I share my story.

JUNIOR THE CHILD

My father always wanted his first child to be a boy. But then I came and disappointed immediately. However, he decided not to let that stop his fulfillment of all the dreams he had about what he and his first-born child should be doing together. My father was the youngest of 18 children from 2 wives and his father died when he was 11 years old. I believe he did his best to do all the things with me that he wished his father could have done with him. In the process he completely ignored who I was.

Growing up I got to do a lot of things most male children dream of doing with their dad. He taught me how to box; we even had matching gloves, a punching bag, and a speedball. We played basketball together because he used to be a point guard in university basketball. He even taught me how to shoot a gun and we occasionally went to the firing range to play with pistols, submachine guns, and shotguns as he was an avid collector of firearms. Some of my favorite memories were hanging out in his fish farms and jumping into the water during the fish harvest but instead of helping I would jump into the nets to set the fish free. One day I was playing in the boats when I was around 6 years old, and I jumped barefoot on a large rusty boat screw which cut a 1 cm diameter hole in my foot. We were in the middle of nowhere and he said there was no doctor. I was screaming in pain, so he handed me a bottle of kerosene and instructed me to keep pouring it into the hole. I remember him telling me “This is going to hurt but you can take it Junior.” It was the most painful thing I had experienced, and I literally saw stars, but I did it – this is how much I loved the guy; I wanted him to see that I could be who he wanted even if it killed me.

Although we had a lot in common there were some things that I liked to do that my father discouraged. In general, it was everything that was considered girl behavior. I like to dress up and put on makeup, but my father would say that I don’t look good, or I look fat and shouldn’t bother. I liked to sing a lot and was talented: he was always telling me I couldn’t sing. One day a TV director talked to my dad and asked if I could be in this children’s show because I had a good voice. My father looked at me and told him that only prostitutes go on TV so the answer was No: I was 9 years old and didn’t even know what a prostitute was. I also like to dance alot and was constantly dancing everywhere I went. My father was constantly telling me I have 2 left feet and am super clumsy and dance was not for me. Besides, only prostitutes perform dancing. Fortunately, he liked to cook so when Santa gave me a Betty Crocker play kitchen when I was 5, he actually encouraged me.

When I finally went to school and interacted with other little girls it was really confusing. My way of bonding with them was teaching them how to climb trees because I was surprised to find that they did not know how. I remember half my third-grade class was up a tree and the teacher came running out to scold us. Every now and then a rare little girl would appear who was into running out into the fields looking for bugs or climbing trees but in general, little girls were from another planet.

What compounded things was that I was a really cute little girl. Strangers were always telling me what a cute little girl I was, but I never heard it from my father. Every time they complimented me in this way it felt weird because that was not the kind of treatment I was used to. One day when I was much older one of my relatives found out that I was taking a public bus to the state university, and she told me that beautiful young ladies should not be riding the bus alone because it wasn’t safe. I had no idea about what she was saying. One day someone did try to grope me on the bus, and I punched him in the face.

I loved my father a lot and spent more time with him before the age of 8 than my mother so I really wanted to make him happy. You can say growing up he was my ideal of how a person should be like because I spent so much time with him. He drank a lot and sang karaoke with his friends and every now and then they would let me have a song and this made me feel accepted and appreciated. He would also sing me to sleep on his guitar at night. Because of how much he drank there were times when he was asleep all the time and even when he promised me, we would do things together, it never happened because he was always asleep. I did not know back then what chronic depression was. I did not know back then what alcoholism was either. I also did not know that my mother’s father was also struggling with the same things.

JUNIOR GROWS UP

My father was very athletic and supported my early sport which was horseback riding. I was very much into equestrian sport when I was in Philippines but when we moved to America because my father started a business in California, the sport was too expensive for my family. Fortunately, I found gymnastics and then figure skating. By this time Dad was too busy trying to make his business work and was not able to be present in this part of my life. I cannot remember my father ever coming to any of my performances or competitions. However, I had a devoted fan in the form of my grandmother who just loved seeing me dance around on the ice or on the balance beam. She would buy me the most beautiful competition outfits and always told me how proud she was. But my number one fan when I was six years old was not around much anymore because things had changed. Instead of my childhood hero, what I encountered was a wounded and broken man.

My father’s business was going bankrupt. At night he would drown his sorrows on a bottle of alcohol, and he would call me to join him. At that point I was not drinking but sat there while he shared his day with me. Mostly he would ask me for financial or business advice which I tried my best to give him. But what would someone in sixth grade know about corporations? I blame myself for not being able to give him good advice and felt the pressure of the mounting debt and this has impacted my abundance later in life. As things got more desperate my father’s behavior towards me became more angry, violent, and twisted up by the combination of alcohol and failure. Things that happened during this time were the most painful and traumatic.

Sometimes when he would not get out of bed, I would snuggle up to him and he would tell me how much he loved me and that he felt sorry that we could not do things together now. But also, at that moment I felt so much love. I felt the most love from him when he was drinking because this is the only time he expressed his feelings the most and when I grew up and we started drinking together I really felt a genuine connection with him that I remembered we had when I was younger, before he was constantly drunk or asleep.

This all changed when I was thirteen. While I was snuggling with my dad in bed, he did something that felt wrong. I stopped it and he acted like this was normal and nothing weird was going on, but I ran from the room so scared I could not sleep. For years I tried to convince myself it never happened but how can you actually cover up the truth that all your cells remember? The mind is not actually that powerful…

SYMPTOMS OF TRAUMA

In my late teens and as a young adult I had a lot of anger and anxiety. I could not fall asleep at night without walking six kilometers first. Also, if you touched me while I was asleep, I would wake up in a panic and punch you. I would wake up angry and be excitedly waiting for someone to cross any kind of line so I could have a go at them to vent some anger on them. I really questioned where this was coming from and one day, I got an acceptable answer.

There were these magazines called “Theosophical Digest” by the Madame Blavatsky Society that they were selling in the supermarket of my neighborhood. I would buy these religiously and one of the articles talked about vegetarianism and the impact of animal meat on the human system. I came to learn from this magazine that when you eat meat, you take in all the anger and fear of the animal, and this is stored inside your tissues and becomes part of how you feel. I also got into Buddhist meditation and one of the themes was non-violence, so I was determined to become vegetarian despite not knowing exactly what it means or having the resources to do it. The first time I tried it when I was in high school, I lasted only one week. My dad made the most beautiful roast leg of lamb and paired it perfectly with a bottle of red wine and that was that. But I kept trying and eventually did enough research and learned how to cook vegetarian dishes.

Being vegetarian helped me a lot with the anger and anxiety. The death of an animal causes a lot of hormones to flood their system such as adrenaline and cortisol. We are impacted by the same hormones as we have them too. After 2 weeks of coming off meat, the unexplained anxiety and fear that kept me awake at night melted away. It helped that I threw myself into sports and had an outlet for all this energy.

With my background in gymnastics and figure skating it was easy for me to get into the cheerleading team which I was eventually captain of. I also fell in love with something called high impact aerobics (this was the Jane Fonda era of legwarmers and thong leotards). I started to compete in aerobics marathons and aerobic dance sport competitions. Sports and winning made me feel successful and appreciated. It gave me an outlet for the energy of anxiety and rage within which got transmuted into a highly competitive mindset. I wanted to be perfect, and every win would validate something inside me that just wanted appreciation and connection. Sadly, no one in my family ever came to watch any of my competitions. It was like who I was in my family and who I was outside of it were completely different.

Not only was this true for sports but for the precious jewel that I found in my neighborhood which saved my life. I had a neighbor that was a Tibetan Buddhist nun. Me and my friends would come over to her house all the time and she would teach us meditation. The energy in her house was completely different than where I lived. People were affectionate with each other and not yelling all the time. They served such amazing vegetarian food, and the tea was out of this world. So were the meditations. The feelings and experiences that I found, diving into my inner universe with her guidance, changed the way I interacted with the world. I found my true home within myself. I would practice meditation every day and this helped me feel the difference between who I wanted to be and who I did not want to be. It helped me understand who I really was because you cannot find this outside yourself, and no one can see it but you.

I AM NOT MY FATHER

When applying for Universities, I wanted to go to an agricultural college and run the family farm, but my parents said that only dropouts and drug addicts go to the state-run agricultural college. They made me choose one of the universities that people from my social strata usually went to so I could “be with the right people”. I chose as my first choice: a double major of physics and computer engineering because I wanted to make my father proud since he had always wanted to be an engineer. For my second choice major I chose Mass Communication because it sounded fun and besides, it did not matter because I was going to be an engineer anyway. After the aptitude test the university admissions department put me in mass communication because it fit my personality more. I was so angry and in complete denial. I spent one entire year applying for the engineering course and when I finally got accepted, it only took me 3 years to get irreconcilable failing marks and be kicked out of university. Of course, my father was furious and so was the beating I received. But by this time, I received so many beatings that I had gone completely numb. While he hit me, I just looked into his eyes and did not react at all, showing as much defiance as I could.

Something inside me snapped because of this experience. I reasoned to myself “Ok, so if he thinks I am such a bad kid, let’s be the worst kid ever: let’s be a drunk prostitute”. So, I did the most revengeful thing that I could think of: I joined a musical theatre group so I could sing and dance with the prostitutes that my father was so worried I would become. I found myself in the theatre. I found my family and my tribe (who were all creatives and pursuing arts degrees like Mass Communication). Due to all the roles I landed and the morale boost that I got from performing and expressing all the emotion that was usually pent up inside of me and out of reach, I found some form of therapy. I realized creative expression was the outlet I needed for coming to terms with myself and treasured this part of my life. The sad part was no one in my family ever came to watch me.

Later when I left university, I fell in love with belly dancing and started performing with a dance troupe. This is when I discovered that I have sexy women’s hips. I used to walk like a man but after belly dancing I discovered that Shakira knew what she was doing when she was singing about hips not being able to lie. I also discovered the freedom of expression I felt as a little child when you allow your body to be taken over by the music. People said that I was a good dancer but as usual my parents never even saw a single show.

I also found a part-time profession teaching aerobic dance. Because of my athleticism and theatre training I found it extremely easy to teach dance classes and fitness workouts. I made good money although my parents were desperately waiting for me to “get a real job”. I used this money to go to the agricultural college that they still refused to pay for. I chose BS Agriculture with a major in Entomology (the study of insects) because it sounded fun, and I just wanted to do things I liked. I graduated but quickly realized that my love for singing, dancing, and helping people won out and I became a freelance group exercise instructor, who sang with a rock band on the side. This was so unacceptable that I remember my mother desperately asking me “How do we make sure that your brothers and sisters don’t turn out like you?”

I tried my very best to be the worst kid in my eyes. I was drunk all the time. I crashed at least 6 of my parent’s cars. Of course, they beat me, but cars are more expensive than ribs. I started hanging out in the school of fine arts and away from the cultured business college where I sat bored while people compared their Rolex watches. I broke up with my “acceptable” boyfriend that my parents loved and started dating musicians and artists. I felt free but hated myself enough to abuse my body in various ways due to the subconscious need to punish myself for being bad. I was not happy but at least I was not what they wanted.

IS THIS LOVE

One day at a university party I met a cute guy that had a higher alcohol tolerance than me. I asked him what he did, and he said he was a songwriter and singer in a band. I said, “aren’t we all” and proceeded to plan to get him drunk so I can have a fun time. This was how I met my ex-husband and the father of my children. We immediately felt something strong between us. We thought it was love.

We had a very manic relationship that swung from the extremes of “Kama Sutra” and “World War 3”. I did not know what a Trauma Bond was back then, but as trauma bonds go it was a match made in heaven. A trauma bond is when two people who have survived a common abusive situation get together and mirror that abuse to each other so perfectly they form a strong bond that is usually exceedingly difficult to break out of.

I was super obsessed with him. Subconsciously he made me feel exactly like my father used to. He used to sing to me while playing his guitar and my father used to do this. We would go to karaoke bars after work and get drunk and sing like I used to do with my father and his friends. He was even depressed and would spend a lot of time asleep, and I used to snuggle up next to him to soothe me when he was passed out; just like I used to do with my father when I was little. He would even make me stay up with him while he got drunk and told me about his day, sharing his deepest feelings. Once he came home drunk and broke my nose. I loved him so much I could not leave him. He was just like Dad. For my part I was just like his mom. His mom physically abused him. So did I, taking out on him all the rage I had towards men in general and my father in particular.

While I was in this marriage, once again like when I was a child, my home life was quite different from my successful career teaching group exercise classes. I quickly rose to a high management position, running the group exercise department of a multinational fitness company. I was on the cover of magazines, got sportwear endorsements, was a leader and role model. Since this was the only part of my life that was successful, I threw myself into it like it was the only thing existing. I became the biggest workaholic because I could feel the hole in my heart in every part of my life but when I was working, I got distracted by other “more important things.” Also, anyone who has ever performed to a crowd of people knows that the energy that you can build can be addictive: receiving all their eyes on you, hearing them clap in appreciation, feeling their love. But is it actually love? Who are you really to them? Who are they seeing up on stage? And who does your heart really want to see in the audience?

Later I realized that the only one that could give myself the attention that I was seeking was me. I found it through hatha yoga. For me it was the ultimate answer to my life at that point in time. It was a blend of physical exertion and inner meditative awareness. Because of my meditation background I would gravitate towards yoga styles that had an extraordinarily strong inward focus and understanding of the subtle body of energy channels and chakras. The style that attracted me the most was something called “Anusara Yoga”. The founder of this hatha style believed that people were locked in their hearts and created this style to help people open to Universal Love. It was perfect! I threw myself into it completely. Soon all my group exercise classes were replaced by yoga. All I did was eat, sleep and breathe yoga and soon I was being mentored to train other teachers in it. Hatha yoga and Anusara started me in the process of feeling my inner world and melting the ice around my heart. However, my life was still not balanced because being addicted to yoga means that the other parts of your life that need fixing get ignored.

Weird thing that happened to Anusara is that the leader or “Guru” of the practice got called out as a sex offender and because of that the movement died a swift death. It was a pity because the practice was so powerful at opening people’s bodies and continued to practice it and reap the benefits anyway. So did a handful of people who I still found and learned from. Nowadays an Anusara teacher is harder and harder to come by as there was no one really interested in taking ownership after John Friend’s demise.

TO HEAL YOU NEED TO LET GO OF WHO YOU THINK YOU ARE

One day while I was doing a bellydance performance at a nightclub, a small photo on the way to the dressing room caught my eye. It was a hand-sized Tibetan thangka of Vajrayogini (the Tibetan version of the goddess Kali). I took a photo of this picture and made it the screensaver of my phone because it drew me in so much. In a week I lost my phone. In a few months I lost my job and my marriage fell apart. To keep from going insane I left Philippines and my two children and took a small job teaching yoga in a hotel in Dubai.

It was a blessing that my life fell apart as a better version of me was on its way after the Kali energy had swiftly eradicated my old and miserable life. In only three months, due to my reputation in Asia this led to a bigger job as the regional head of yoga development and training for the same company who I worked for back home. I started training yoga teachers throughout the middle east on their behalf. In a year I was able to bring my children over and started life as a single mother in a foreign country. I was determined to do better for my children and give them a better future than I had in terms of parental attention. I became their mother and the father they never had and who I never had. Instead of focusing on an external action of what I wanted to do with them and who I wanted them to be, I focused on how I wanted them to feel. I wanted them to feel supported, appreciated for who they are, and I wanted to be there for them emotionally and physically when they need me. I can say that my children healed a lot in me. I realized the best thing I could do for them is to work on myself so they would not go through what I went through. But to be completely free from my inner pain I once more needed divine intervention.

I used to teach a pranayama and meditation class every Tuesday at 6am in one of the gyms I oversaw. There was an elderly Indian gentleman who would always come to my class. One day after class he hands me a book and says, “Please read this book because when you teach us, I feel the same energy flowing through you”. So, I took his personal copy of “Autobiography of a Yogi” and started reading. This was my introduction to something called Kriya Yoga.

After reading the book I wondered if I were fortunate enough to meet a Guru who would guide me in this lifetime. I had a real longing for it because at that point in time I felt alone and lacked guidance. I practiced hatha yoga and Buddhist meditation for 2 hours every morning because I was determined to work on myself and knew how important to my healing journey this was. But I was longing for someone to come and support and guide me as I did not feel supported at all. After everything that has happened since this and the present, I only have gratitude for how I overcame this lack of support and all the events both light and dark that brought it about:

Around a month later I was teaching at a yoga festival and my students got lost and accidentally went to the wrong class. This class blew them away, so they invited the man who was teaching it to come to do a private class for them. They also invited me. I skeptically showed up just because I did not want to disappoint my students. I was in the kitchen helping with the snacks when through the kitchen door I saw an Indian man in jeans and a Bruce Lee T-shirt. He was looking straight at me. We locked our eyes. I didn’t know it yet at that time, but Guruji told me later that he was reading my energy and thinking “Of all the people in this room this being is the only one who is fully ready for Kriya Yoga.”

MY TIME WITH MY SPIRITUAL FATHER

I became his disciple. I saw him as THE upgraded father figure. Aside from this was how amazing the practice of Himalayan Kriya Yoga was. At the time he called it “Sampoorna Shakti Sadhana”. Eventually because he was always mentioning it as “kriya” when I started teaching it I called it “Himalayan Kriya Yoga” because I thought that “Sampoorna Shakti Sadhana” was too unrelatable for a multinational audience. Besides I had done some research and found “Himalayan Kriya Yoga” to be a generic term that a lot of kriya lineages in the Himalayas have been using so if anyone where to do a google search it would not turn up empty which would make people skeptical that it was a legitimate thing. I supposed he liked the phrase which is what we called it ever since.

This practice was such a game changer. It’s literally like using a firehose to clean out your garage. Quickly, all the drama and trauma left me for good. Not only this but I started to feel inside me what love feels like. I noticed that what I thought love felt like before was incorrect. What I was feeling before was a nervous system defense built around trauma. Real love doesn’t feel like an ache or butterflies in the stomach. Real love feels like an expansive explosion of bliss from the center of your heart which reaches out to include more and more of the universe inside it. You literally feel one with everything and everything is just bliss. After a while you let the universe in and it all comes rushing into your heart and you actually implode with bliss in every atom of you. This bliss doesn’t depend on where you are or who you’re with or what you smoked. I remember once waking up in bliss and having to drive my kids to school. I was so high that in traffic I was looking at the sky and the beautiful sun then I happened to look at the guy in the car next to me and his face was all pinched up and grumpy and he was ready to run the car in front of him down as we were in a gridlock traffic jam. This made me laugh so much at what a sense of humor life has. One big thing that this helped me with was my addictive personality. One you have this massive experience of love and bliss inside of you, there is no longer needed to distract yourself from how you feel. In fact, the more you want to sit with yourself because it feels so good. This feeling can’t compare with anything else – speaking from experience.

Note this did not happen overnight and it took a journey. And in the journey Guruji was unconsciously undoing all the hurt, pain and anger that I had towards my father through his compassionate example and the universal love and divine transmissions he channels through his mere presence. What was more astounding was the technique itself which also blended ancient yogic understanding with real scientific understanding of our bodies and the universe. More profound than this is the results that it brings to those who practice it. As Guruji says all the time “True Power Lies in Its Effect”. 

I believe in the above statement 100% but aside from this it takes humility to see the effect of your internal energy distortion in the field around you. It is easier on the ego and more convenient to blame it on other people: blame other people as dark when the field is just reflecting the darkness within. It takes even more love to understand that both the darkness and the light are agents of unconditional, universal love that is consciousness itself.

JUNIOR THE LINEAGE HOLDER

In 2017 Guruji asked me to start training teachers. I declined because at that point we were waiting for him to do it. He handed me his manuscript and asked me to finish it because he was doing something he felt more important. By May 2020, at the height of the pandemic I received a message from my guides in the middle of the night that the world was ready and I had to say yes to this mission. I messaged Guruji on Whatsapp and he said “I am happy you finally said yes to this mission. Babaji is guiding you, you are protected and will have everything you need.” So off I went. Being isolated on the island of Bali in the middle of the pandemic I produced the first 2 levels of Himalayan Kriya yoga being inspired by his manuscript and what my inner vision was guiding me. In acknowledgement of my Guru I informed everyone that in order to be officially a teacher of Himalayan Kriya you needed to complete the process by doing a month long intensive in India with Guruji himself. Soon it was evident that the practice was way too intense and intricate for most people to grasp so I created 3 more levels of Himalayan Kriya to break down the path-work that was intuitively channeled by my Guru. I felt that this was the best way for me to contribute to helping other people understand better how amazing this practice was. Very soon I had over 300 students around the world and some of them sharing the practice to others and all in honor and service to my Guru.

In 2022 on his birthday he announced to everyone that I was to be the lineage holder for Himalayan Kriya Yoga when he drops his body and leaves the earth for good. I felt appreciated in being called his “junior” as this was a role that I have been thrust into since I was born: being what someone else hopes and dreams for themselves. But maybe this is not who I am because at the end of the day it really isn’t my dream to begin with. And further it isn’t their reality either. It actually doesn’t exist.

Soon after the ideal dream of the Guru-disciple relationship that I had with this man was replaced by a cold reality. There were whispers discrediting all the work I have done and how it was not the way Guruji wanted to portray kriya. Despite the fact he never addressed these with me directly I come to know later on that the source was he himself. However when confronted he would conveniently blame someone else. One day he threatened to kick me out because I did not follow a direct order from him (I felt it was not aligned and seemed to be a manipulatory scheme). I said to him “Who is this scared, attention seeking hurt child? This is not really you – and if it is me I call on the Universe to smash it immediately for the benefit of all.”

That is exactly what happened one month later.

The manipulation, naming and shaming so that he came out on-top eventually came to a head when several women came out with allegations that he was interacting with them in an inappropriate and morally improper way. What followed was the crumbling of our community in the same way that happened to John Friend, founder of Anusara Yoga and my idol from younger years as a hatha yogi.

How could such a powerful practice once again come from someone who, despite saying to everyone how he is an enlightened master, seems to gather around him so much darkness? How could he not see that there was a misalignment within him? How could he not see the father wound in himself? I know from his background that there was abuse and poor treatment that he bravely brushed off but life was reflecting this was something he had not healed yet. But the bigger question was how come this seemed to be a pattern in all the men in my life?

In my darkest hour after the collapse an unknown woman called me and said she urgently wanted to meet me. “Babaji has a message for you” she said. She turned out to be a longtime kriya yogi from another lineage who saw one of my interviews on youtube. She asked for some private lessons and in return she started life coaching me. One of the things she said which was a big reminder for me was that darkness burns more karma than light. It is in these dark moments that we learn to shine brighter from inside. She also told me “You have no idea how bright you actually are and how special what you are sharing really is because it feels normal and therefore inconsequential.” For years I have been telling my students “If you can see the love beyond the distortion you are on your way to liberation.” Now it was time for me to apply what I have been talking about firsthand and love like I never loved before.

HEALING THE FATHER WOUND

I realized the answers were to be found within and, using the situation as a springboard into my internal state I dug as deeply as I could, pouring love into every space. Along with it I fasted, sang aloud to the Sun, practiced kriya, continued to share kriya and lived life. Along the way many people came from the community and beyond to be the messenger of Source in their own unique way and I received everything I needed. At times it was painful and at times it was blissfully magical. All was part of the process.

As I write this many things have shifted.

I am not angry nor blaming at anyone because there is no angry energy or blame energy in me anymore. I feel supported by life itself and firmly grounded in who I am. This means that I have reached the state of unconditional love for absolutely everyone who played a role in the life I have witnessed so far. I can love someone and at the same time acknowledge the distortion in them but more than that I can let go of all ideal stories from which truly comes pain and disappointment. Love is not the story, love is beyond all stories. All stories must end then only the love remains. 

Aside from this I accept full responsibility and accountability for my actions. No need to hide behind someone and claim falsely that your power comes only through them. I do not need validation from anyone or to be authorized by anyone to be myself and this is part of what self-realization means. I will not pass the buck anymore as this is not in my favor and nor is it a favor on the person that you are hanging this responsibility on or assuming responsibility for. We are all conduits for universal flow and the guidance within will allow you to cross paths with others who are there to remind you of who you are. This is the true Guru within. At the same time I have a deep love and respect for those that have assumed this role, even as imperfect as it was. Perfect doesn’t exist in this world so no one has any business painting anyone as perfect or also calling anyone out to be imperfect. As Jesus Christ said “Anyone that is perfect can cast the first stone.”

That being said 100% accountability sometimes means that boundaries are important. I refuse to enable the energy of the father wound in any of my dealings with myself and others. Now that I know what it is and how it feels I reject this distortion. I will not enable it to claim more victims and this offering of “healing the father wound” is one of the ways in which I devote my energy and time towards this end. Also I am willing to let go of anyone who is not interested in healing, whoever they are. Whether it’s my father, my ex-husband or my Guru. To all of them I say “I still love you but I can let you go. You are not my life. I am not your life. This I can do as the highest offering of love between us. I let you go.”

PROLOGUE

My mother calls me once a week and occasionally I get to speak to my Dad. We have a good relationship and there is no more emotional load from the events I experienced growing up with him as a parent.

My ex-husband is now my website manager and oversees all my websites for various things. He used to do it for free, but I started paying him since last year as I felt it was the right thing to do since I am his boss now and he isn’t my husband anymore. We did have a call explaining to him that it is important for him to be there for my daughter, so she doesn’t grow up like us. It did not work but I am supporting my daughter with her own self-realization.

I still am not in contact with my Guru however I have very deep respect for the role he played in reminding me how important Kriya Yoga is to my role in this lifetime. The light he channeled is the Guru and the person, the wrapper that is the channeler is of course just a person with issues like all of us. But I accept responsibility to not enable this from happening again and therefore am taking the reigns of Himalayan Kriya Yoga now on my own terms. Hari Om Tatsat.