Akashic Trancework Journey
With Nathan & Astara
On seeking dietary counsel from the Ancestors
Nathan: It’s October 2nd 2019, and we’re just going to have a conversation with Womb. Take a deep breath. Take your time to really relax. There’s memories there for you. I’m going to ask you to use your abilities to access those memories now. I want to hear about one of your Ancestors, I want to hear their stories in whatever way makes sense to you. One of the first Ancestors to experience this kind of discomfort, this frustrating inability to sustain oneself fully. Take your time…
Astara: I’m at a farm. I have a lot of fabric on me. Doesn’t seem very efficient for my work.
I think I have to be on my knees a lot and there’s some things I don’t understand, like…
…I’m in this space that is open on two sides and closed on two sides. It’s like a barn, maybe some sort of structure to protect animals and equipment I think. And there’s hay on the ground. And I see a horse outside the doorway.
There is a bucket next to me… a wooden bucket.
And I don’t understand how I know but there is butter in there.
And there is this thing that I’m doing, I’m on my knees…
And it’s like a crank or like a lever…
It’s heavy, this handle…so that I position it in front of me so I can hold it in both of my hands and then I need to crank it in a circle.
This lever is attached to this wooden wall that’s attached to some sort of
Nathan: A butter churn.
Astara: Like it’s really big, like it must be churning a lot of butter… big amount of butter…
And I have to use a lot of muscle for this… my shoulder and my arms…
And I feel too exhausted for this…
I feel weak…
And there is something about this butter that makes me sick, it makes my stomach hurt.
It’s like butter is making me too weak to churn the butter.
Nathan: It smells so strong, can you smell it?
Day in and day out
Astara: I feel like I lost my sense of smell. I muted it because everything is so strong and I’m always nauseous. Everything is so nauseating, even the smell of all that hay.
This is my house, this is my parent’s farm.
Nathan: So you make it for your family and this is what you all eat, milk and butter.
Astara: And we sell it too!
Nathan: What about the cows, tell me about the cows.
Astara: Everytime I try to find the cows, I see them for a moment, I see them looking sad and then I just don’t want to pay attention to them.
And then I see my horse friend again, leaving, like going past the doorway and I’m wishing I could go with him ‘cause I see his tail swishing in the wind and he looks so free. I can see the sun on his fur and I wish I could feel the sun but I have to be in here.
This butter and these cows are on the side of me. There’s 3 of them right there. Their heads are looking over at me now but I don’t really like them, I don’t like to look at them, they just make me feel sad.
Nathan: Do you eat them? Do you eat the meat too?
Astara: I can’t really keep anything down anymore, I just eat bread.
Nathan: Everything else makes you puke?
Astara: Yeah I just can’t keep anything down anymore.
Nathan: Why not?
Astara: It’s like eating sadness.
Nathan: Whose sadness is it?
Astara: The cows, they are so sad. I just look at them and I get so sad. They just keep me in here so we can keep getting their milk all the time. Horses…they get to run out free. It reminds me of my sisters and my mom…just kept inside to have babies to give milk and life force and just be kept up and caged and not really be seen. I know im going to end up like that too.
Nathan: Is that what happens?
Nathan: Tell me about your children.
Astara: They were all so small, so frightening. Each time I dreaded it. Each time I had another child I was carrying, I dreaded it because it’s so frightening and exhausting, I didn’t know if I would wake up and find them breathing. They were all so small, so frail, it was like a battle every hour to keep them alive for months. Months, each of them.
I never had a say.
I never got to say no more kids. I don’t want that. I never got to choose when he’d take me. Just, just feel like this feather, lived a life as a feather. No power, not even physical strength to hold my body upright. I was always in so much pain, doubled over in pain. I had to keep going,taking care of the kids, house, animals, keep churning the butter.
Nathan: Just eating bread?
Nathan: How long did you live?
Astara: It was… I don’t know my exact age…but it’s also like this feeling. Old but something young too. I suppose in these days it would be just the beginning. But in those days, 34, seemed as though it wasn’t too big a loss. My duties had been done, my children were born. Old enough to stay alive, keep themselves alive. Two of their own.
Nathan: Take a deep breath for me please. I would like to take a moment to hold some space for the suffering that you experienced in that lifetime and offer it blessings and gratitude. You sacrificed so much. One of your children, one of those descendants that you worked so hard to take care of and nourish, now comes before you. She is still struggling with what was done to you, she is still struggling with the butter that seems to run in her veins that she can’t get rid of.
Can she help you?
Astara: I never wanted the babies!
Nathan: But they came…
Astara: I cursed them!
Astara: They forced me to be stuck here. He would just take me whenever they felt like it. There wasn’t even anything I could say or do. Just back to my chores afterwords.
Nathan: Wasn’t fair.
Astara: Then you know, then another baby would come… So I suppose I should be proud and happy about this person…but…I just feel more…more guilt that I don’t have a connection. I never wanted them. I never wanted to be connected.
Nathan: I want to take that guilt from you. I want to take that energy from you actually. It doesn’t serve you because why in God’s name would anyone in your situation choose to have children? Why would a raped woman be able to love their children? It’s not that you didn’t love them, of course you loved them. But how could you look at them, it’s not your fault.
Astara: It was just life. I wasn’t even special.
Nathan: It’s what was done to us as humans, what was done to you, just like what was done to the cows. Those cows are your sisters. I’m going to ask the spirit of the cow to come in now, the sacred cow, and see how she sustains humanity.
See the sacrifice , see her udders, the sacred cow…
She is the mother. She will guide you, spirit of your Ancestors, she has another name. But when you try to remember the name of your Ancestors, go back deeper. Because beneath your pain, so too are your Ancestors. Connect with your distant grandmothers.
It’s not your pain to bear. It’s the pain of a larger work that has been thrust upon you.
Astara: Her milk has been poisoned just like we have as women. Poisoned and stolen from us.
Nathan: I want you to reclaim that milk now, just a drop of it, even if just a drop of it.
Beyond time and space now, beyond body, beyond pain, beyond those conditions…
Astara: I’m sitting now on a bucket of milk and I’m bleeding into it.
Nathan: Purify the milk, purify the milk of humanity now. The milk of your Ancestors. We offer you this moment of transformation. A moment of power and change.
Astara: I’m painting the milk on my skin…
I’m pouring it over my head now…
I’m pouring the stupid fucking bucket on my head…
My hair’s drenched in this blood milk….
My milk to nourish myself.
I’m able to stand. Choose.
Fuck who I want. When I want.
I had a right to love my babies.
Nathan: I now offer you to offer this ascension to all your ancestors and descendants dear one.
Astara: This is our milk.
Nathan: This is our milk.
Astara: This is our life source.
Nathan: This is your Prana.
Astara: Our power our sustenance.
I am bringing this milk back into my body and I’m allowing it to fill myself from the inside out. I can feel myself expanding and am finding the strength to stand tall. Stand confident. Stand in my power. Ripping this fucking apron off.
This fucking stupid ass fucking stupid dress off…setting it in flames.
And I’m going now out from under this roof and I’m standing naked in the sun.
It’s your time in the sun…
Your time in the sun….
Astara: I am galloping through the wind on the back of my horse naked and wet.
Nathan: How beautiful.
Astara: Bloody, milky.
I can smell my own blood all over my body
Astara: I can feel my hair whipping my back.
I can feel my breasts move freely, unbound. For the first time ever. Ever seeing the sun…
Nathan: I want you now to embrace hunger. Not hunger as in suffering. Hunger for fulfillment and life. Hunger for good food. Hunger for life. Hunger for family, hunger for thriving, hunger for nourishing food…not just butter and bread but real food. Food from the womb of the earth. Food from the womb of your mother. The way your ancestors ate nourishing whole, thriving, joyful meals that fill your body, fill very cell. Nourishing , nurturing…
Astara: I’m coming upon a happy apple tree, I can see its joy reflecting the light of the sun off its leaves.
Nathan: The apple is one of the most ancient creatures out there.
Astara: I can feel the warm apple skin on my fingertips. Hear a snap from the tree. Biting into it now.
It’s so sweet and juicy, it’s dripping down my arms, chin, neck… I’m sharing with my horse. Saying thank you to this beautiful tree. She’s telling me she wants to share with me. I can feel us all connected here.
Nathan: The sun and the earth come together in that apple. Feel how each cell contains a kiss from the mother and a kiss from the father. Feel it nourishing you, connecting with your cells, joining with your body, joining with you. And not just us, but all the tiny micro-organisms joining in the biome, join in the symbiotic dance, all beneficial little friends in the top of the apple cells, coming to help you process and move through you.
Astara: I can feel the mother and the father dancing in all of my cells.
Nathan: Take your time and experience this.
Astara: I can feel the texture of the apple skin on my tongue. Where there are little bumps, where it’s smooth, where there are soft spots. Some of the parts of the apple are more gritty, others more firm, some more juicy.
We never had an apple tree in our farm.
My mothers want me to eat warm fruits with medicinal spices.