Art, ascension, change, Children, Christ, Community, Connection, God, love, Messages, poet, Poetry, spirituality

THE HAND.

THE HAND.

They didnt treat her well so she became
a better person.
They didnt approve of her
so she tried to prove herself.
They blamed her, so she took on
all responsibility.
He didnt answer, so she could not let go.
Thinking, dwelling, convinced she could not meet you, your needs, herself, anyone, anything.
Was she flawed.
Was she too closed, open, wounded – so she changed and changed and changed.
Yet nothing changed.
Other than the shattering of time.

All this.

For a while it made her too soft, too hard, everything and nothing at all.
Not knowing what was wrong with her.
Broken beyond perhaps.
Cursed.
Maybe she wasn’t loveable.
Maybe she didn’t deserve love.

She couldn’t even weep any longer.
Tears dried up.
Like a sponge sitting on a shelf for all eternity.
Yet no thing worked.
She most definitely tried.
It was like trying to wash with no water.
Expecting to be clean.

It was never her pain, challenge or task to bear.
Yet she couldn’t see.
She held herself, body limp, no strength left to try.
Something awakened her to the truth.
A clear sign.
She poured deeply into her very own cup and vowed never to abandon herself ever again.

A miracle she is, was and always had been.
Strength pouring through her veins.
That was when life changed.
For she knew she was the one.
This could never and would never ever be taken away.
Even in death.
Eternal light.
Eternal love.
Breath.
Life.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.

change, Christ, Connection, God, life, MOVEMENT, presence, Source, spirituality, Trauma

SEIZURES AND STORED TRAUMA.

SEIZURES – TRAUMA RELEASE.

For the past 90mins or so I have been conscious and having a seizure, many seizures, more release yet to come as I can feel it.
I couldn’t stop it once it started.
I don’t know if I have ever seizured before but haven’t consciously.
I am perfectly incredibly more than fine.
So please don’t be concerned.
I’m actually quite amazed.
It’s incredible the gift that I’ve been given.
I’ve known something major was unfolding in my life leading up to this.
I’ve felt heavily held as if they are with me energetically and still am by the energy of living family members, ancestors, God, Christ within for the past few days.
There’s been huge unfoldment leading up to this.
A seizure from what I have experienced (I can only comment on my own experience) is the reinactment of traumatic events stored within the body.
It is a discharge and release of the trauma imprint and memory.
This was confirmed by the third eye visual I received whilst it was happening of someone I know who suffers with seizures.
I was very ready for this!
This part of me has been frozen in time as such.
My mind, body and soul aligned to this knowing I was ready for this!
I have just witnessed exactly what happened to me through body movement, body reactions and non reactions and the movements that were forced upon my limp body in 2012.
The body has just released the exact movements both where my body was moved by them and the uncontrolled natural body responses (like the heart beating or when we sneeze etc) and I most definitely was fully unconscious when it happened.
A seizure from what I experienced is a delayed trauma release, it’s not something forced it just happens naturally and is a delayed reaction like that of which an animal naturally flows to after freeze in a near death situation; shaking itself back into it’s reality and releasing the stress and hormones that are surging through the body.
The release from freeze state when it’s been many years later can brought on and triggered by a simulated experience or similar experience of the unfoldment of the initial trauma e.g movement, smells, tastes, touches, visual etc.
I asked God for divine intervention so much for this.
Hope this helps someone.
Please only take what resonates.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, fun, God, life, love, musings, Mystic, One, philosophy, poet, purpose, Source, Spirit, spirituality, Trauma

FUNNY BITS, FANCY BITS AND EVERYTHING INBETWEEN.

FUNNY BITS, FANCY BITS AND EVERYTHING INBETWEEN.

What I’ve found in life is that nearly everything changes, what never changes is that pure essence that cannot be described with words that is experienced from within and without simultaneously.

This expands and expands and expands into an eternity, an infinite space of no space in absolute truth.

The changeable aspects we all wear are life a change of clothing, some you grow out of some you like, some you dont like, some fit, some don’t.

Sometimes we may try to squeeze into things that don’t fit out of denial. Sometimes we wear things that are to big to hide.
We can wear costumes to act like we’re unknown to draw attention from what’s underneath but does this then draw attention to a persona that just cannot ever be maintained.

We all have problems, flaws beauty, difficulties, opportunities, surprises, experiences and a range of diverse emotions, feelings and beliefs.

Like a tree, we may have straight bits, smooth bits, lumpy bits, inverted bits, projected bits, plain bits, multicoloured bits, textured bits, hairy bits, you get the message they’re all part of the whole.

Sometimes we can embody wisdom and consciousness expansively. Sometimes we realise why a mountain bike is actually called a mountain bike.

We look to others at times like they have caused the stuff that’s bubbling up inside of us be it hate, love, lust, projections, numbness, seperation, unity, rejections, oneness.
We contain all that we “hold.”

We aren’t defined by that which we hold, that isn’t us and neither is the reasons we may feel this way.

Patterns, traumas, processes, hand me down ornaments from ancestors (no blame here), history and a lot of pain that’s affected the way we can see truth is the root that’s needed to delve into kindly, curiously, openly with love and a keen eye.

The patterns change form and changes form, frequency, fluidity and density along the spiral whether it be up to ascend or down to descend. The spiral looks more as an hourglass in the truth of how I’ve experienced it and downwards can mean inwards when consciously working with the somatics of the body.

We hold different beliefs, different views, different titles, etc etc etc.
We can judge this think we’re right, stay stuck.
We can accept that our differences are our journeys, our paths, unique flavours that may be used in a range of meals, delicacies, delights, concoctions, chaotic sensory flops.

Is judging perceived greatness any more or less than judging perceived failures.

Which eye do we use to truly see and which ears do we hear from, inner, outer, something inbetween.

I don’t have any answers.

I do have love though, I am love and in that not even love yet the unchangeable essence with no explanation that was the beginning and is now the end.

We all are.

We all ARE.

Art and Musings by Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, change, Connection, God, life, love, Messages, musings, philosophy, Poetry, relationships, Source, Spirit, spirituality

RESTORATION.

I thought I was deeply flawed.
As life pushed me away from all I wanted.
Broken, torn.
A masquerade of false promises by a dissolutioned mind.
Breaking through, wanting more.
Given less.
Losing, losing, lost myself.
Who is that now.
Pushed and pushed to work things out.
All around me fell to the wasteside.
Crumble, crumble, crumble, drop.
The tower fallen.
Broken hot.
Scattered tears of yesterday’s.
Mangled dreams transformed a nightmare.
Looking in the mirror.
Lost.
I do not know who stood there.
It was not me.
A fallen creation.
Crossed.

Written by Helen Rebecca Hart.

Art, ascension, change, Community, Connection, life, love, Messages, MOVEMENT, musings, philosophy, Poetry, relationships, Revolution, Source, spirituality, Trauma

BOUND TO BREAK FREE.

BOUND TO BREAK FREE.

Bound to break free of the patterns imposed on we.
From lives gone past.
Ancestral longings, locks last.
Bound to we.

I cannot carry the weight of these chains no more.
Denial isn’t an option.
Nor running and chasing.
No score.

Meet me face to face.
Dare you will.
Face our inner demons.
Consciously, still.

Meet me face to face.
Mirrors are loud.
In this space.
No masks allowed.
Discomfort turns red.
Hidden gets loud.

Take this into ourselves.
Feeling all that’s shroud.
Drop the guard.
Playing proud.

There is no war.
No power trips.
It’s for us to rise in our own ships.

Can you commit to healing all within.
Can you commit to yourself.
To break this bill.
Can you lay your weapons on the floor.
Let us pick up a rose.
For our very own hearts.
No need to impose.
Chainbreaking the goal.

I’m done with these energetic hidden games.
Peak out from the curtain.
No need for shame.
I’m not willing to be part of the hunger games.
I lay this to rest.
I will not remain.
In the hall of blame.

Burdened by binds of years gone past.
A fairy tale in duality.
A nightmare that lasts.
I need one not to make me whole.
This is not what I propose.
I care to break these binds.
For I, my self.

If you cannot rise.
Together.
Apart.
Then drop your pull.
Go.

Beating heart.

Art + poetry – Helen Rebecca Hart.