Well shit... So I called on every spirit being I've ever known and all that were interested that would help. Had quite a turnout. I got handed off back and forth quite a bit so not sure I remember who was who in any particular moment. Plus going into and coming out of the trance fucks with the memory quite a bit. We all met at the wall. Wolf spirit wanted us to find a way through, break away a small bit at a time and create a narrow breach into the unknown. Through this point, I can travel to and from, each time wearing down more and more until it disappears. Although not in disagreement, the shaman came from the shadows and in conjunction with the horned god of nature, took me straight up to the wall, turned me so my back was facing the wall and pressed me against it. They told me that the wall was put up with intention and would therefore be removed with intention. Facing into my known life, and without the illusion of vision, I perceived their message and with their help in modifying the way my spirit perceived, I saw the wall simultaneously as before and as it's own negative, intention. We switched to the negative perception and the wall faded completely for a few moments. It began to fade back proportionately with my recurring inhibitions; the reason for the wall in the first place. This is a time of great change and I must tread slowly as to not ensure I eventually transmute all of the intention to keep that wall, and that I don't venture too far past it when I do, until I have better control of my intentions for its existence.
I heard a voice nearby; the same child's voice that had called out to me before. I realized that it did not come from beyond the wall and exercised the same ability to perceive my environments negative that made the wall disappear. The world turned black in front of me except for a yellow-orange light emanating from a younger version of myself, battered and on his knees on the ground. I went to him to lift him up and he thanked me, saying that he'd been stuck there in that prison for so many years. He was very weak and the spirits that had come to help with the wall helped me hold myself up. We sat for some time together, face to face, and as the older me, showed my younger self [some of the] compassion I hadn't received then. We sealed our intention with a sensuous union of spirits, and I will continue to heal and integrate myself to wholeness. I knew then that I had locked myself away years before, hoping I would just change into something I wasn't in order to get the love I couldn't give myself from others in my life. There is much healing ahead, this part of me literally needs to receive the strength to walk again, and integrating a much less mature part of myself to an older me will be interesting to say the least. I know that the path must be compassionate and abundantly accepting.
I find it strange that I cannot recall whether it was the night before or after my soul journey, but I had a very disturbing dream: I was with a group of good friends in some wilderness location just doing whatever friends do, when we were attacked by gunfire. Helicopters, assault rifles, all the accoutrements of an all-out assault against my current state of being. After running for some time, loosing people on both sides, we finally glimpsed our attackers: 2 adolescent boys, about 12 years old. They started to shoot my friends where they were hiding, so I came out unarmed to confront them. I asked them what they wanted and why they were hurting us. Their answer is foggy but I remember they wanted to be known/recognized. I tried to be friendly and they seemed to respond fairly amiably. I got them to stop shooting at us but they told me I had to come with them. They said no one had ever been kind to them and that I needed to be their friend. The second boy went somewhere I couldn't see and so I stayed talking to the first. I realized he was me; a negative dream-aspect of myself saturated in so much enmity as to be willing to murder friends and my older-self. I did my best to provide as much compassion as possible to this younger me whilst in fear for my life at the volatile nature of his emotions. The dream memory ends there and I know the road to healing will be long, nuanced, delicate and difficult. It will take enormous courage but what other choice is there when I know I am to be made whole? [A rhetorical question, to be sure.]
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