crying right there in the meeting room. I sat in one of those ammonia-
filled stalls and felt the rage, which my anger had now become. Oh, I
felt such murderous rage. Some part of me didn’t want to let go of that
rage. But something else kept prompting me to keep saying,“Forgive
me. Forgive me. And I love you.”
I kept saying this over and over to the rage. And then I realized
that this was not a new feeling, that I had felt this same rage percolate
and disguise itself as a slow burn in the background of my consciousness
before—whenever my husband would put me down or whenever (and
always) my lawyer mother had insisted on being right. And, oh, she was
one whose words could make black look white, confusing the innocent
heart of this child.
And then I understood. I “got it.” Aha! This is it! This is some
ancient memory, the beam in my eye, the beam I thrust into others’
hearts.This is the sword of memory that I carry in my heart and drag
into my “now” and slay others with—Dr. Hew Len, my mother, my
husband, Bush, Saddam Hussein, whomever I can accuse and slay out
there.This is what Dr. Hew Len is talking about, the continual loop of
tape that keeps playing over and over again.
I did not leave. I went back into the conference room, and experienced
a deep calm the rest of the day. I kept silently saying in my head,“I’m
sorry. Please forgive me.Thank you. I love you.”When Dr. Hew Len
answered questions after that, I felt only love from him, none of the
previous emotions. He hadn’t changed at all. Something in me had.
Some time after I returned to the room, Dr. Hew Len shared a
personal experience about his own introduction to Ho’oponopono. He
had bailed the course, not once, but three times, each time thinking that
the instructor was “crazy” and each time forfeiting the cost of the
workshop. Did he know what I was thinking? Did he know that I had
also almost just left because I thought he was crazy?
During the next break, I cautiously approached Dr. Hew Len.Very
lovingly, he explained that the ancient, oft-repeated memory of male
dominance had raised its head. He explained that this was a memory
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