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Childhood dream

I have a story to tell you

When I was a little child, I was growing up all alone in an inferno, with no one to empathise, understand or support me, let alone care for me, under every kind of abuse, in a desert of pain. I described this in the poem that I attached at the end of this post, in case you want to get a feeling of how my childhood felt. Even as a child, I understood a lot: I was an old soul, so I was wise enough to understand that what I was observing and experiencing was very toxic and dysfunctional, that something was deeply disturbed and distorted in the society around me. I never really lost that inner wisdom, no matter how much people tried to rob it from me. But at the time I did not know why. I had not yet grown and learned the experiences and lessons I needed in order to understand why society was that way, and why I was going through so much suffering. I did not have any answers.

So I often dreamed that I had an older sister, a wiser sister and more mature, one that had already experienced life and grown and evolved and learned through all the needed life lessons, to understand why life was that way, and why I was experiencing what I was experiencing. I dreamed that she was strong and grounded and powerful enough to overcome anything. I called her Samantha. I imagined that I could ask her anything, that I could talk to her about anything any time. I imagined that she cared about me enough to tell me the truth no matter how difficult - because I knew the adults around me were all lying to me. I imagined she cared about me enough not to tolerate any toxic behaviours I would act towards her, but to guide me to heal them if I asked her to. I imagined I could really count on her unconditional love and to hold me without judgement.

As I moved from childhood to adulthood, I forgot about Samantha, and I embarked on a journey searching for answers, for truths, for solutions, for tools, for healing, to the suffering I grew up with and in the world. I trained in many disciplines, practices, teachings, and had many different life experiences. Ultimately I found and trained in those tools and mastered some of them, and I was able to coach and heal myself, and then later, to coach many other people.

I realised that I had become a kind of Samantha for many people, for many of my clients and followers specifically, but also for friends, who looked up to me for guidance, for support, for help in resolving their troubled situations, their suffering, their toxic patterns. I had become the one that is capable of holding them with compassion and without judgement, for their issues, without enabling them, and who they can count on for guidance and wisdom and support. The one they can count on for speaking the truth no matter how difficult and uncomfortable.

Also I am very honoured and blessed today to have not one, but countless older sisters in my own life, both in physical and spiritual form, that I can count on for guidance, support, unconditional love, who are there for me when I need them, who hold me without judgement, with compassion in my toxic patterns, without enabling them, but giving me guidance to heal them if I ask them to.

Most importantly, I realise now that I have made my childhood dream come true. In my deep and intense shadow work, my inner integration and healing work, I have traveled back to the past countless times, to answer the call of that inner child me crying for help, and I have assisted her, in all of her atrocious and horrific experiences and traumas, to help her, guide, her, support her, answer her as she needed, and be there for her with compassion, empathy and unconditional love. So Samantha indeed does exist today, she has become a reality: I did not know it back then, but she was me.

Childhood Dream - Poem

The warm wind of an infinite desert

burns with its blow every life form

leaving boiling sand on its passage

Landscapes remain of war memories

Of a remote time where there was life

Only fragments, scraps, scattered pieces

Only warm wind blows in my ears

But it doesn’t kill me

I walk on the boiling sand

But it does not burn me

Everywhere around remains of death

But I remain alive

The resounding blow of the wind

Leaves no space to silence

Like an incessant inferno

I walk without end

Without direction

Tears are instantly dried from my eyes

Of a pain without memory

Of a loss without recall

Nothing has ever existed

And nothing will ever exist

Aside from the burning wind

And the boiling sand

I walk infinitely

In the anguish

I wake up from the dream

Into the nightmare

Of my childhood home

I get up from my bed, walk towards the living room

Where my parents stare lifeless at the TV screen

Their inhuman faces more terrifying than the remains of war

The expectation for their next abuse

more burning than the sand and the wind

The loneliness in my heart

vaster than the desert


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