Trapper Self

In journey space I see into an aspect of me that is a trapper. There are two versions of her. First, an eight-year-old, small and gangly yet lethal. Her prey -Shame. We go together her showing me her prey and how she traps it. She opens a little door in her lower left rib cage. Inside is a small blackish hard ball.  She gathers the shame placing it all in here. Me: Can we remove the shame inside of you?  If I could remove the shame out of her maybe she could feel better. She simply says OK. Delicately removing the small black ball, I hold it in the palm of my hand. Invoking the violet flame and the blue flame we both watch as the black ball fizzles and burns to ashes. The ashes form a small heap in my hand. We both leaned in to look more closely at the ashy contents in my hand. Suddenly the ash implodes, an orange phoenix bursts into flames flying straight up into the air disappearing in plain sight. We are stunned! We crumple into full belly laughs from our amazement. Once the laughter subsides, I ask permission to clean the shame storage area. She nods her head in agreement. Using sage, smoke fills the little cavity. Cleaning and clearing the storage area. Additionally placing something in its place to honor her service for others and transitioning into a new cycle of not harboring shame for others. Out comes a burp, literally. A small prayer is said to bless this place inside her. The small area had been dark. The walls were blackened in a state of decay. The smoke cleaned the walls until a soft light pink began to show through the blackness. Light begins to beam through the cracks. Quartz crystals are placed in key points inside then a sprinkling of fairy dust before closing the door sealing it shut. Rubbing the outline of the door with my finger the scar begins to sink back into the normal flesh surrounding it. No scar or any trace remains once the job is complete.

Secondly, the other trapper is a young woman 15-16 years of age. Older and filled out to a wiry femininity, she lives in the wilds. Her prey- Predators. The trapping she does seems important and her particular skill set feels needed so I suspend any personal judgment. We go together as she shows me the trap sets. She shows me all the furs collected through time. There are many. Her bed is covered in furs like a Viking warrior. She runs to her bed rubbing herself all over the furs. In this brief moment I understand. She loves the predators she hunts. Almost like she is reading my mind she sits upright looking me square in the eye. Trapper Me: I know them all. Predators have few enemies. When they become old or sick or weak their suffering can be great. I trap them to ease their suffering, so they do not die a long and agonizing death.  I understand now. The drum begins to slow and I return to the beginning which is also the end