Tick Tock, Tick Tock, Tick Tock
That is the menacing sound of your belly clock telling you that time is passing you by.
It has set itself up as the grand adversary opposing your dream.
With every tick, your once-grand vision seems to move farther away. With every tock, another one of the fragile supports holding up your diminishing supply of hope breaks loose.
Splish, splash, another gallon of emotional provision has just been lost.
Don't you feel it pressing against your ribs, squeezing your heart, compressing your lungs, making your hands tremble with the vibration of something that is trying its best to leap through your fingers and into the world?
And yet, it cannot move through you. Don't get me wrong. It is yours to deliver.
But the channels are clogged.
Cat's got your tongue.
The lid's on too tight.
Pick your metaphor.
All I know is that every single time you try to make this thing happen, something stops you dead in your tracks, spins you around like a top, and refocusses your attention on something much more compelling:
Now, of course, I am not saying injustice isn't happening. Without a doubt, it is.
You were born into a field of natural adversaries so diverse that it's a miracle you are still here.
And that is the problem!
Injustice is all you know. It is the thick mist on the rambling moors that seem to stretch out endlessly between your yearning and the rich fertile deltas simply awaiting your soul's outpouring somewhere in an alternate reality.
Please understand that I am not making light of this predicament at all!
It is gut-wrenching to perceive the potential, to feel it welling up inside of you, and then to find yourself lost in the fog scrambling across a giant, open expanse of infertile lands.
It wouldn't matter how much nourishing soul milk you poured out in this place anyway.
You could plant a million seeds and water each one personally every single day.
Nothing, and I do mean, absolutely nothing will grow in this place.
You know I am right too because you have tried growing your dream garden here and failed over and over and over again. If the problem of infertility stalking this land could be solved, you would have solved it.
You have spent sleepless night after sleepless night running the numbers, calculating the probabilities, imagining solutions ...
That is why you are dangerously close to handing over your dream to the sullen sound of that infernal tick, tocking clock and simply calling it impossible.
Hold on! Not so fast there time warper.
Injustice is such a fancy word. It sounds so sophisticated and it has just a hint of romance to it. It calls up images of the noble underdog, bleeding and exhausted, but still in the fight.
It has a seductive kind of ring to it.
So let me demystify it with a new, diminutive, two-syllable (instead of 3), far more manageable, word adversary:
Injustice is just trauma turned into a system and weaponized.
That's also, in straightforward terms, what we are all living through at this moment in history (i.e., systems of trauma).
Those vast, infertile, possibility-gobbling moors are made of trauma too and trauma is the very thing sucking all the nitrogen out of the soil you could otherwise count on to yield a bumper destiny crop.
I know. For just six little letters, it sure has ballooned into an all-consuming, never-relenting reality.
Let me put another crack in the spell!
Trauma has its ways, but they are not the only ways.
They are mesmerizing. But trauma's pathways and systems are, to be very honest about it, built upon complete fabrications.
Trauma is reliant upon mind tricks and mirror traps to hold you.
One of one of its stay-in-power tricks is DISTRACTION. Trauma loves to get you into a good fight with the unfairness of it all or lock you into the immediate, desperate fight for survival.
And who could argue? It all feels so real, so ironclad.
Who wouldn't stop everything to try and staunch the bleeding?
After all, nobody wants a bleed-out life.
No matter how many times you bandage the wound and get back up with good intentions to charge ahead, the wound reemerges, weeping and festering, demanding all your focus again.
That's because the wound is coming from the inside out and I don't care how many bushes you ACTUALLY snag your leg on or how many unfair knife fights you stumble upon. The force that pushes you towards injury cannot be addressed as circumstantial only!
Yes. The sharp edges are real, protruding, and made to tear open your skin. But you are also wired for the tear. Your inner GPS is set to anguish and so you find it over and over again.
Another way trauma holds its place is with the voice of procrastination. It sounds convincingly like YOU.
"Whenever I—fill in your own personal, terminally unique excuse—I will do something about this dream-suffocating cycle of madness."
No! You have to do it now.
The systems of trauma will never make time for you to break apart the trauma structures, though they might finally break you down so there isn't any other choice.
Trust me, that rock bottom do-over is no fun at all.
But that isn't the main reason I am shouting about the immediacy of your dilemma. Your pain interests me, but not as much as your potential.
Allow me to introduce myself:
Rebecka Eggers, Freedom Activator, Choas Composer, and Dream Midwife at your service. I'm on the dream team and I am here to deliver a message and a method.
First the message:
That pent-up potential trying to turn your ribs into projectiles is exactly what this world needs right now and it's locked inside of you, trapped in the systems and structures of trauma that would prefer to see you take it to the grave because...
In the wake of every world-changing dream that dies from neglect a field of injustice blossoms.
Now for the method that will liberate your destiny from the ravages of Trauma Time immediately, if not sooner:
REDSHIFT the clock; bring time back to life.
What do I mean by that?
In alchemy, the redshift is the moment when a new order is established in the physical world. In this case, that means within the physical structures of your brain and your nervous system. It also means you must create changes in the world around you and how you interact with that world.
What does that have to do with the clock or with time (which everyone seems to think is an immutable reality that moves in only one direction)?
Trauma Time is linear; it's Chronos time.
When you are stuck in it, you can't access the deep (Kairos) time that is immersive and holistic.
You also can't liberate your mind (center of perceptual reality) into spontaneity. You will never be persuaded that the false things you believe are actually untrue or that new, more nuanced things could be true. You will cling to what you "know."
Ultimately, in Trauma-Time you are unable to access anything new.
You just keep following the same linear progression through the same freeze-frame experience over and over again. Clock-time (Chronos) progresses through a linear count--tick-tock-tick-tock just as Trauma Time does.
You never move even when you are moving. 1-2-3-4-5-6-7-8-9-10-11-12-1-2...
Your inner clock is set to suffering. It's always Anguish-O'Clock.
Deep time, by contrast, exists within the spaciousness of your creative brain. It's incredibly spontaneous, alive, and holistic! Deep time exists within the spaciousness of your creative brain. It is concerned with right time and multidimensional time. The hour on the clock is just the hour on the clock (a way of marking periods in an otherwise holistic day that is part of a holistic life that amounts to a symphony of moments).
To REDSHIFT time, you must restore the aliveness and movement that will allow you to choose renewal and creativity consistently. To do that, you must break out of the prison of Trauma Time and restore your access to Kairos time (and all the other functions of your full creative brain unleashed).
You can start today!
Book Flourishing Fusion: Activate the REDSHIFT Renaissance!
Take your first steps in a whole new world today!