Continuity 2.7 It Comes in Threes, overcoming my family violences
When I started this blog, my intention was to continue from where I left off after finishing Woody, My Journey. As I honor that intention, I find that the profound changes that have happened and are still happening to me continue, and I need to address them by writing about them now. One thing I’ve learned about intentions is that if you honor them, they often grow into something quite different than where they started.
Change #1
I don’t know much about astrology; Ophilia is a disciple and deeply involved in this sacred knowledge. As I recount in the book, on November 24, she told me that the stars and planets were predicting a huge change for me late in the month when Pluto moved out of a 247-year rotation.
We were poor when I was growing up. My father was a janitor at my junior high School who never wore his false teeth. I took a lot of brutal comments about being “mush mouths kid”. I had a job from when I was 13, but I kept up my grades, even made the honor roll. I was a good kid.
When I moved out of my house on my 19th birthday, my mother gave me a 12-page letter telling me not to get arrested, not to do drugs, not to get a girl pregnant, 12 pages of her guilt loaded onto me. That night when I moved into my first apartment with a friend, we had a party, and it was the first time I ever got drunk.
I carried that letter from my mother, being the janitor’s kid and all that guilt and meanness, for 52 years; it shaped a lot of my life and decisions that I made. As predicted by Ophilia, I woke up on the morning of November 18 after a very violent dream. When I talked it through with my wife, I realized that I was a good kid, that it was my mother’s guilt and pain that I felt about not being good enough. In 15 minutes, 52 years of pain was gone, and it remains gone to this day. The freedom from this thought is simply wonderful. I don’t know the mechanics of how the healing worked, but it did.
Change #2
At the end of January 2025, I had a battery failure, and I found myself at an auto parts store as the sun went down. The installer had never installed a battery in an older Prius before, and he was struggling with the flashlight in his mouth. I asked him if I could help him hold it. As he handed it to me, I was transported to the driveway of the house I grew up in. My father was yelling at me that I was a stupid kid because I was shining this flashlight in his eyes. He kept telling me how stupid I was, using a lot of colorful language, until he got to the point where he gave up. Then he would beat me. Standing in this parking lot as the sun went down, I was in full flashback meltdown. One way to calm my total panic was to try talking it out. I’m sure the installer was nervous as heck, but we finished the job, and I went home to dinner. I discussed this with my wife, and I began to realize maybe that wasn’t my fault. Two days later, at 6 in the morning, as I was checking my mail, I glanced at Facebook, and this meme was at the top of the page:
I looked at Wendi, showed it to her in total amazement. The universe works in strange and wondrous ways if we only let it.
Change #3
This happened just 2 weeks ago, and I’m still processing it. I had the same dream for six nights in a row. I was walking down the street where I grew up, and I walked up to a yellow house with stairs. It looked like the house I grew up in, but ours had gray asbestos shingles on the outside, which made it pretty ugly. I told Wendi about it on the morning of the 7th, and she suggested that I try to go inside. When I went to sleep that night, I welcomed my dream allies for some clarity, be it good or bad. Sure enough, I had the same dream where I was walking down the street, and I walked up to the stairs of the yellow house. I decided to try to go inside.
As I went up the stairs, Woody showed up next to me, about the size of a Macy’s day balloon. He had appeared to me before in this form. We walked up the stairs together, and when we got to the porch, he disappeared. I went inside. It was my old house, and I could see everything as clear as day. The house was small. I looked ahead into the kitchen, and at the table sat a board that my parents had taken in, I suppose for the money, because we certainly didn’t have any rooms to spare. His name was Ben; he was deaf. I hadn’t thought about him in close to 60 years. As I looked at him, he leered at me, and I realized on the spot, in my dream, that he had abused me, and I had suppressed the memory for over 60 years. As I said, I’m still processing this. Ophilia tells me that dreaming the same dream for 7 nights in a row is very potent dream medicine. I know this to be true.
When I look back at what I have learned about myself in just the last year, it takes my breath away. I’ve carried this damage for so long, and it’s been such a part of the fabric of my life, I feel free. I know that as I go further with my life, I won’t walk the same path I did for so many years, but I’ll walk a new path of growth and strength.
It takes courage.
