Triggers are unresolved Mind Files. They are not life sentences, but the Mind Files behind those triggers will hold you hostage until you resolve them.
Identifying the specific Mind File that is at the root of your trauma isn’t as easy as you might think. Even if you know the category, say, for example – abandonment – there might be ten thousand Mind Files within that category, and you have to find the one behind the current trigger to resolve it.
The planned demic triggered numerous Mind Files for me. I’ve written about this before in Justice, Good, Vengeance and Evil, and in Forgive and Forge, but I still hadn’t found the one. The Mind File with the actual wound that was triggered which meant I couldn’t move on until I did.
Oftentimes, we think we’ve moved on from a past hurt because we’ve made a conscious choice to let it go, but the reality is we’ve merely put that Mind File back in the FEAR cabinet. Eventually, life will test you again and you’ll learn that you either have to deal with it or give the Universe permission to keep being challenged.
Years ago, I ran a natural health and wellness business. I hold certifications in natural nutrition and holistic therapeutic mental health counseling, and I’m a certified HeartMath Practitioner. I’m also Brain Story certified, which is a course dedicated to the consequences of childhood trauma, and a couple of years ago I completed HeartMath’s trauma course as well. I do what I can to keep up with information on how to help myself, which in turn helps others heal from trauma.
It took me a long time to fully comprehend what being of service to others actually means. Most people think it’s literal, but it isn’t. Every sacred text talks about the importance of the Word for the Word is the Truth that sets you FREE.
Every time you resolve a Mind File, you gain a little wisdom. Sharing that wisdom with others is how you be of service to them. Giving them stuff – money, clothes, shelter, free drugs, etc., is simply putting a band-aid on their hemorrhaging wound. It’s patronizing and not actually helping them because you’re contributing to their ongoing victimhood. That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t offer temporary shelter, food, and clothing to those in need, but we can’t stop there.
We meet people where they’re at. Yes, but if we know the way down the road, we can offer to show them. If they aren’t ready, that’s ok. That’s their choice and we must honor that choice.
You can’t give away what you don’t possess.
Because I had been studying alternative health for years and knew how deceitful, manipulative, and outright evil Big Pharma is, (just read RFK’s book about Fauci if you really want to know) I knew that whatever the truth was behind convid, the general public was being lied to, manipulated, and intentionally terrorized. In other words, I had information that others didn’t that informed my opinions and decisions. When I tried to warn others, they didn’t want to listen - for whatever their reasons were - so I had to honor that. I had to accept that their choice to disregard my advice could very well end their life. At best – the odds were that it would be drastically shortened.
That triggered a host of negative feelings from my brother’s suicide, and even though I knew intellectually that there was nothing I could have done then, or do differently now that would matter, the frustration, guilt, and sadness still consumed me.
On top of that, the abusers had a list of negative labels ready for those of us who weren’t fooled by their lies.
I was a conspiracy theorist and an anti-vaxxer.
I was part of a small fringe minority with unacceptable views.
I was bad, stupid, uneducated, and I deserved to be locked up and punished.
The mass public became the bullies that I faced as a kid and that triggered a lot of anger. Anger eventually became rage because even as an adult – in this situation I was powerless to fight against the machine behind the convid curtain.
What made everything worse for me, was the physiological state of adrenal exhaustion that I had reached in 2012 complicated things. There’s no coming back from adrenal exhaustion. That, all by itself was a tough pill for me to swallow because I was powerless to fix that too. I had to learn to drastically reduce the stress in my life or face fatal consequences.
The planned demic increased my stress tenfold and despite all the tools I had at my disposal for managing stress, I couldn’t escape the negative energy - fear mostly - coming at me from every direction.
It was an unbelievably tough three years for me. My sense of safety was successfully obliterated. The last few personal relationships I had were destroyed. Trust in pretty much everything was gone and not likely to return any time soon.
An old wound had been torn open, and every day, someone poured salt into it.
BUT – and it’s all caps and big because it’s a BIG BUT
– a diamond was forming in the rough.
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