At the gates of ancestral trauma – The chosen one

Continued from here and here

I felt strongly about what was revealed to me during my shamanic journey with Dad. It felt relevant and I believed that it was up to me to release the bonds of family trauma, including my own. It was up to me to heal ancient wounds and according to Dad I was the chosen one to do it.

I even had a better understanding as to why I always felt so sad about Mom’s traumatic life. Fleeing the war with a few things on their backs, not knowing her father until he was released from being a POW when she was 11, the early and sudden death of her husband, my father, and the lack of joyous events in her life. I always felt burdened by the lack of balance and that the tears and heartaches dominated happiness and smiles.

There was a time I would have done anything to spare my parents the hardship they experienced. There was a time I would have switched with Mom, carrying these sorrows in exchange for her happiness. Even if meant to give my own life. It’s just how much I loved her. Here I was, a 10 year old who took on the enormous responsibility to bring joy to Mom, to make her happy, to fill a void and smooth the loss of her husband. It was a burden impossible for me to take on. A burden I couldn’t carry, yet I tried, and perhaps it was what my soul had agreed to for this lifetime.

Coming to terms with the events of my life and my childhood, I now stared into the depths of the impossible. An unimaginable task that wasn’t mine to carry. A task that I could never fulfill. And yet somehow I made a soul contract with myself, because there was nowhere else to turn to. There was no help available at that time, and people had to deal with their tragedies in their own way.

Nobody asked any of this from me, but knowing myself I’m sure I felt that I had to do something. I didn’t know at the time that by doing so I would leave myself wide open for many wounds to accumulate. And I’m not sure if that would have made a difference. For me it was nothing more than the love of a daughter for her Mom, trying to help her see better days again.

Now decades later of carrying this burden, years of working through the emotions and the heartache, I finally heard the voice telling me that it was up to me to heal our family’s ancestral trauma. It’s a moment I will never forget, a moment that feels very surreal and powerful. A moment so important in my life that it has become an actual game changer.

To be continued….