Rachel's comment: TIME-PRESSURE has been my PREDICAMENT all my life,
even after the very gradual changes I made by limiting action and interaction to the utmost.
I am very triggered by watching the pressure of the combattants in Masterchef
and by the fact, that almost the main criterion for their success is their stamina,
their degree of endurance in this time-pressure.

What seems to be more than pathetic and ridiculous, is,
that I slow down their movements, their thinking and feeling, to the utmost,
but in doing so, I must "manage" such an immense quantity of material,
that - while re-creating Masterchef - I am almost as time-pressured as they are.
[I wrote this probably 3 weeks ago, and in re-editing it today on October 27, 2011, 19:45,
I wonder if I "reach my goal" of completing the last 10 pages before going to sleep tonight.
Tomorrow, Oct. 28, I'll travel to Shoham again, since Immanuel returned to his (irregular) flights.
By then I wish to be free of the time-slavery, in why I entangled myself one other time...]











October 31, 2011

I've, indeed, freed myself from my slavery,
yes, more so:
exactly because this enslavement to "time" has been - this time! - beyond any proportion and balance,
It seems ~~~ better: I want to believe ~~~ better: I desire, I intend and I do believe,
that I'm not only free of my Re-creation-in-slow-motion of "Masterchef",
but that I've taken a huge step in freeing myself from the enslavement to my website.
Since yesterday afternoon - after my return from an extremely "stormy" Shoham -
I try to live without planning anything except planning to FEEL, what not-planning means:





It means - as far as I understand on this day -
to deliver myself wholly to the threefold inner guidance {Body, Feeling, Understanding)
- if Body - in this case my back - is in pain, then I give all my attention to healing it
(in this case the guidance calls me to do two parallel things:
- activating "Paula's Keys" to help Body to do what it needs to heal, mainly "Palming my Eyes",
and opening totally to the feelings, caused by outside events, especially by other people's tribulations,
and do what makes HEAL what I FEEL: physical vibration (moving, breathing, sounding, yawning)
and the release of judgments which cause the soul to contract and shrink, to cringe and cower
thus transferring its task of coping to Body and put an unnecessary burden on it.




While following this guidance, I also followed other desires:
to write/sculpt an important message and to read/answer some e-mails.
This - today - granted me with an insight concerning one of my life's issues:
When people "cast me off discourtously" (how did this line from a song enter my mind?), "blaming" me,
that "nobody can understand anything on your side",
I know, of course, that it's a "hole" in me that calls this "blaming",
it's me who has a hole in her wholeness that attracts a trigger so the hole may heal.
What is new, is the identity of the hole!
It's not the hole of "I - in my ego - am not received, if nobody understands me".
It's not even the hole of "If I'm like the biblical prophets, who did not communicate their messages well,
and if so I'm failing to fulfil my task, my vocation".
Even the second hole I've managed to heal over the last 5 years, or so it seems.
The not-yet-identified hole is actually ridiculous - as so many of our holes:
This hole says: "I'm not good enough in technical things!"


In this case I'm aware of at least one - funny - origin of the hole:
I was 18, when I one morning approached my bicycle and exclaimed:
"Oh, how stupid, I forgot to swith off the electricity last night".
My brother, then 14, was present and scorned me for not knowing,
that the electricity for the lamp of a bicycle is produced by pedalling, not by a battery.
When I was 31 and my brother came to visit me in Israel,
he brought his painting "The State of Israel", the last before his death 6 months later.
I took a chisel to make a hole (hole!) in the wall, for introducing the dowel for the hook.

(My husband: "Since you want to be a liberated woman, it's you who must do such jobs in the house".
I actually yearned to be a 19th century woman, not at all "liberated", but without this chisel-dowel training,
I wouldn't have managed with building and living in my bus, leave alone with "Succah in the Desert"!)
At some point during that short chisel-dowel process I made a mistake and my brother laughed.
This served as an immense trigger of the 'humiliation' and lack of self-worth from the bicycle incident.
When he saw my explosion beyond proportion, he said;
"I only laughed, because this happens to me , too".



And yet, - I now ponder - perhaps the third hole is after all connected to the second hole:
the feeling of failing "God":
I'm no better in communicating than were "my three peers: Moses, Eliyah and Jeremiah".

After "understanding" and with breathing, moving, sounding" - there is just one thing "to do":
to laugh! "Laughter is the final stage of healing" [see puzzle piece 51]
and to sing "Abraham's" glorious statement:
"You'll never get it done, nor can you ever get it wrong"