The Inner Children 2

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Taken at the Glastonbury Tor, UK

Revealing another one of my inner work experiences, which involves taking a feeling to explore and guiding it towards integration. For this particular feeling some very new discoveries and old mysteries emerge.

I started with the feeling of unworthiness. A current situation that resulted in me feeling this was not receiving attention from the friends I consider close and dear to me. Moving to England had taken its toll on me and I needed them the most, those that were back in New York City. Once again I settle into my meditative state and allow the feeling of unworthiness consume me. It rushes over me like a flame on paper, sinking to my stomach (solar plexus) area, vibrating like the sound a rock makes as it hits the bottom of an empty drum.

“When was the first time you felt unworthiness?” My inner voice mutters, as I poke energetically through the darkness, waiting for an image to appear. In a matter of moments a memory appeared when I was about 12 or 13 years old, a girl I liked with long black hair and pale skin play-fighting with another one of my male friends. Play-fighting on my couch in the first apartment I grew up in, the younger me had invited her to the apartment because he was very fond of her, but because he was overly shy he asked his other friend to join them. The younger me watched as I could feel from him the unworthiness of being unable to have her touch and receive her playful smile. However, I knew it wasn’t the original birthplace of unworthiness. I watched it for a while longer as I could feel the emanating rays of unworthiness coming from the younger version of myself.

It took a little longer than normal. Since I do the process so much, I would automatically assume the origin of a feeling would appear around the toddler age — a thought of daycare emerged. This version of myself was roughly 3 to 5 years of age. At that age I was very attached to my mother, whenever I was taken to daycare I would become very upset when my mother left me there. I would cry because she left me, an aspect of the origin of unworthinesses revealed itself. I couldn’t believe how little it took to feel unworthy, just this action, but then something else revealed itself instantly. The head care taker, a beautiful woman whose name I still remember till this day, held me in her arms. I watched how this woman held the younger me as if I were her own. He, the younger me, looked at her with great intensity, he was in love with this woman. What I felt from my younger self lit up my entire body like a christmas tree, immediately, tears of uncontrollable happiness flooded out of my eyes. The tender feeling of concentrated love beamed into the younger me as the care taker looked right back into his eyes with the same intensity. A mixture of romantic love and motherly love filled my mind, her dark hair with fair white skin, the birth of my preference in women.

Part of the inner child work (if you choose to go further into this) is to change aspects of the past with a version that would better suit you. By recreating this memory you realign the energy of yourself that has been distorted. Watching the immense love coming from the care taker I decided to assign her as my mother. The current version of myself materialised in the room and I stood with both of them, my hand around my caretaker as the younger me in her arms. As soon as that happened I was propelled to the first memory of my 12-13 year old version of myself that had been watching the girl he liked having fun with his other male friend. I appeared behind him and put my hands on his shoulders. He looked up at me and we both looked at the two playing, my caretaker also emerged and knelt down next to the younger me. She stroked his cheek and the intense feeling of love encased him. This version of myself had dissolved into my being and filled the empty shell that had been displayed to me before (in previous post). I proceeded by asking the younger me: “What would you like to do now?” He said confidently, “I don’t want my friend to be here, I just want her with me.” And so we made it so that the girl was alone with him and it was revealed to me the possibility that that girl didn’t really find the other guy interesting but had wanted to be just with me the entire time. I felt an instant release in my current body, which filled my heart.

This process was so intense that afterwards I felt exhausted. The rest of the day I was depleted and slept really well that night. A discovery within discoveries happened in that session, one in which I’m extremely proud of.

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The Inner Children

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Photo taken at Glastonbury Tor.

Over the the last month I’ve been undergoing a process that is not commonly experienced by the average person. Not that there is anything wrong with being average, but by going beyond the norm, you learn many more things about yourself. It started with a feeling: ashamed. I felt ashamed because I don’t have a form of income at the moment, since moving to England to be with my wife a few months ago. This circumstance and feeling didn’t just stroll along and say: “Today is the day to feel shame!” No, no, this feeling had been around for a very long time and had found its opportunity to show itself in this current situation. So, this is what I do: I lay down on my white sofa, my head placed on a soft cushion, muscles relaxed in my back and shoulders; I invite shame into my being. Discomfort trickles behind my eyelids causing twitching around my forehead. The heaviness in my chest reveals a responsibility and burden behind the shame. I ask myself: “When was the first time I felt shame?” The echo of this question vibrates throughout my body and into my soul as the blackness fills my mind, a second later I see a younger me (around 6 or 7 years old) standing in the airport. I’m looking around, frantic as I cannot find my father. I stare at my mother and I repeat “Where is Daddy!? Where is Daddy?!” My mother, her eyes glued to the person she’s talking to, ignores me. Finally, out of frustration she yells: “HE’S NOT HERE!” The younger me’s body completely tenses up, my younger sister, the other person my mother was talking to, passer-by’s, and my mother all stare at me; distressed, surprised. The intensifying feeling of helplessness, I look back at these very people looking at me, tears of restraint erupt. Shame was born that day. As I watched 525fba3c3fccedd11a17e4a9cc4ed946the younger me cry, my current shame made a link to its raw counterpart in front of me. I felt the pain of the younger me as my own tears welled, and, forming a single drop, rolled down the side of my face, dripping into my ear lobe. I am literally reliving what was once in the past. As I often do with this type of inner child work, I materialised as my current self in the time frame my younger me was in. He knew who I was immediately, as our eyes connected. I reached out to him, at the same time he reached to me and we embraced. The love in my heart expanded rapidly as this younger me had needed this love dearly. I squeezed him tightly, his head curled up in my chest, only him and I existed in the airport, like a painting on a white canvas. Soon after, the younger me began to dissolve into my being revealing shells of myself, like Russian dolls. Different ages of my being suspended as empty shells within, waiting to be filled, parts of life that had been stuck in past negative feelings, unhealed and awaiting to be integrated. As this process continues I asked the younger me: “What would you like to do now?” He lifted his head and replied “I want to fly in the clouds.” We lifted off from inside the airport, the ceiling revealing the sky with fluffy clouds, and flew through the air. Our fingers cutting into the clouds, happiness echoed in my body. Radiating energy from the centre of my chest, my eyes filled with tears of joy. The look on the younger me was breathtaking. Awakening from this delightful imaginary, I realised that much more work needs to be done and being whole is clearly in reach. Many layers of my being are stuck in different feelings, waiting to be felt. The beginning of a fine adventure for my inner children.

Light Show 3 (Originally 03-Nov-2014)

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Taken at Coney Island, NYC

Another interesting night with Laura at Coney Island. One of our last encounters together before I headed off to be with my wife in England. That night was the beginning of cold weather which is slowly approaching us for the seasons change. It was a nice refreshing air though, with warm clothing I felt a bit of “epic-ness” fill my body as I waited for my timer to finish while this photo was taken. Beside me, Laura inspecting her camera intensively as she watched the seconds go by on her phone to get the right exposure. Underneath us was the flowing water. It’s always nice watching the water be water. It doesn’t get told what to do or how to function majority of the time, it just is.

I watch how a lot of my fellow human beings put systems to everyday life, from work all the way down to cooking. The rules must be followed or else things will be ruined, in some cases. The stature of limits we place on ourselves at times makes me feel so uneasy at moments in my life like needing to urinate when you’re in a swimming pool, left with two choices, either get out and used the restroom or release it where you swim.

This photo exploits the breaking of boundaries in which a photo that is taken with long exposure must stay at a fixed focal length. In other words I became bored, tired of the same; place-tripod-here, set exposure here, then, lets see what happens kind of thing. Evidence has shown that over the centuries of human existence that systems have worked and how following the rules keep things in “order.” At the same time there is evidence that when rules are broken they give birth to new creations and experiences. Although I like breaking rules, it oftentimes jars people because of how systematic and comfortable we get with what we call “traditions.” I’m even understanding that rules can be broken even if you don’t know the rules.

With Nature (Originally 20-Oct-2014)

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Taken at Central Park, NYC

This past weekend I was honored to take photos of this up and coming yoga teacher.  Her past consists of her getting a metal rod put in her back, a story that involves much more than I’m allowed to say. This photo is a symbol of oneness and diligence. There are a number of miraculous people in the world and seldom do we know them as they walk among us as regular people from day to day.

Each morning I get up early and I take a walk in a nearby park. The changing colors of the trees, with a slight gust of wind, the leaves dance in the air. When I approach a stump of a cut down tree, I sit at its center.  I close my eyes and immediately see for a moment a swirling energy pulling away from me.

As I take in a deep breath, the scent of wet grass and leaves fills my body, peace washed over me.  My body becomes as solid as the tree, the feeling of gravity is revealed to me with a pull from the base of my spine.  As with the main image above, this sense of peace radiates off of the yoga teacher as she bonds with nature.

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Autumn (Originally 14-Oct-2014)

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Taken at Bronx River Park, NYC

On my morning stroll, I noticed these guys on the ground. I continued walking on when I saw them at first and immediately thought, take a picture! But I walked on still and then I stopped to walk back. I love how the water sits on the leaves, it’s as if water doesn’t sit like that anywhere else but leaves. The ground gave such a wonderful background as you could tell that autumn is here and that Earth was making it’s cycle again.

I often think about life and how many things repeat over and over again. Like the seasons it seems even nature follows this mundane pattern and we, the humans, are accustomed to it’s stability. However, whenever the weather changes it causes uproar. For example, the winter of 2013-2014 in NYC was one of the roughest in years. I always wonder why the seasons consistently go in the order they do. Of course there is a scientific explanation, the Earth rotates and so on, but seeing how winter was so long at one point, I’ve rarely seen summer stretch further than where it’s “supposed” to be. Maybe I’m naïve to think that the Earth could possibly have a mind of it’s own to decide, “you know, I feel like being hot today.” I guess that would make Earth too human like.

My wife really loves this photo and she wants to make a print of it and place it on the wall in our home. She really loves lines. I love the way photos can make different people feel different things, I can imagine listening to people talk about this piece, about how bad or happy they feel because of it. Maybe one day.

Fragile (Originally 04-Nov-2014)

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Taken in Long Island City, with background view of NYC

A few weekends ago I hung out with my cousin and took some amazing photos for him. It runs in the family when it comes to art, he’s a musician and producer. However, this lovely photo here has a friend of mine who didn’t feel she look great in photos. It’s a bit of a challenge for me when someone says they look bad in photos because that really pushes me to find that right angle, lighting and motivation. It took her about 45 minutes, with the encouragement from my cousin and I, to get her to feel comfortable enough for posing. We were in Long Island City and as you can see the sun was setting behind the buildings. I love this because it really brings out the essence of who she is. To me she has a gentle fragility to her that is utter brilliance.

A lot of us have this, the fragile part that wants to be loved, catered to and accepted. The true beauty in it is to actually see it. Take it in for what it is and embrace it as your own. Majority of the time in my life I’m always observing, taking in and admiring the people, places and subtleties of life. I do often daydream and it allows me to be even more creative with my photography.

I could say, for the most part, this photo brings out the essence of my own heart, as my subject has already expressed to me the strength and beauty of fragility, with her own heart.

The Man and the Flower Hill (Originally 29-Sept-2014)

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Taken in Long Island City, NYC

There was once a man who spent hours everyday sitting on a hill overlooking fields of sunflowers. He lived in a small village with his wife and two children. Every morning, he would watch the sun rise over the fields and his heart was filled with joy. His wife did much of the up keeping of their house and took care of the children, she loved her husband dearly and always made sure he had enough food when he went off to the hilltop. One day, the man’s youngest daughter asked him “Poppa, why do you sit her all the time?” The man replied, “Because it makes me so happy to be with the flowers.” The man’s daughter looked out into the fields and smiled happily as she went off to play in the grass near him.

Suddenly the man’s wife fell ill and he had to take care of all the household chores and take care of the children. The man’s wife, although very sick, repeatedly apologized to him for he could not see the fields of sunflowers. The man told his wife, “I love the flowers and I love to sit on the hill, but most importantly I love you and the children.” His wife smiled heart-fully as she rested. The man’s heart still yearned to sit on the hill.

After several months of looking after everything, the man’s wife became well again, however he was afraid to leave her due to his fear she may fall ill again. The man’s wife encouraged him to go back to the hill but he refused, and the children seemed to love the man being around more. A few days later the woman came up with an idea, “Why don’t we give flowers to the people in the village?” The man’s eyes lit up with joy and he thought it was a wonderful idea.

The man went to the hill every morning to watch the sun rise over the fields and pick sunflowers to give to the people in the village. Many travelers who came into the village gave the man money for the sunflowers. Eventually the man opened a flower shop in the village and shared his happiness of the sunflowers and his family for years and years.