A Forgiving Grandmother -Chapter 3 – At the Rainbow-Striped Boundary
Chapter 3 – At the Rainbow-Striped Boundary
Written on: 3rd November 2025
This was the work I began at the rainbow-striped boundary — the threshold where human love begins to yield to Source love.
Regina had asked, “What happens in the rainbow-striped boundary of the heart seed?”
Her question stayed with me. It felt alive.
I began to see this boundary as a meeting place — where what is human in me meets what is eternal.
Each colour of the rainbow seemed to hold a lesson: courage, joy, compassion, truth, surrender.
Not separate, just different tones of one love learning to express itself through me.
Sometimes I feel close to that boundary. It happens when I forgive, or when I stop defending myself.
Other times, I move away — when I tighten, judge, or hold on to being right.
It is always the same invitation: soften, listen, return.
This is not about rising above my humanity. It is about letting it be lit from within.
Love becomes real when it passes through the cracks of being human.
After reading Chapter 2, Regina wrote:
“So wonderfully put, until the border alchemizes, transcends, metamorphs, ascends into the love of all that is, in the frequency of pure love, universal. I experienced it first in praying with all the energy of my heart, to be filled with the pure love of Christ, promised to all true disciples… It became the greatest desire of my heart, written beneath the rainbow.”
Her words moved me. They reminded me that this journey — from human love to Source love — takes many forms, yet always follows the same rhythm. A pulse. A prayer. A movement toward wholeness.
Regina calls it sanctification, at-one-ment, ascension. I might call it remembering.
Different words, same song.
What connects us is the longing itself — the desire to know love as both human and divine.
To live from that current, even when the way feels uncertain.
Perhaps this rainbow-striped boundary is not a fixed place after all, but a living rhythm — expanding, contracting, opening again — as love continues its work of alchemy through each of us.
Regina’s reflection also reminded me that love’s alchemy is not only spiritual.
It is physical. It wants to live in the body.
For me, the lesson came through my knees.
In Chapter 1 my Higher Self had said:
Inflammation is the body’s cry when forgiveness has not yet reached the cells.
Your knees bend the will; they ask for surrender.
Bow to life — not in defeat, but in reverence.
I am still learning what that means.
Some mornings the stiffness returns, and I notice the old habit of pushing through.
Other days, when I slow down and breathe, I can feel the energy soften.
It is as if my knees are teaching me how to kneel again — not to anyone, but to life itself.
Humility, I am finding, is not about lowering myself.
It is about aligning with what is real.
It is standing inside truth without pride or resistance.
It is saying: I do not know, but I am willing to listen.
When I move from that place, the pain eases.
Forgiveness begins to reach the cells.
The rainbow-striped boundary becomes less an image and more a living process — the body remembering how to bow, and the heart remembering how to love.
Ancestral and Past-Life Echoes in the Knees
Lately, I have begun to sense that not all forgiveness belongs to this lifetime.
Through a session with Jen Ward, I was shown a past life in the Ching Dynasty, where I carried the energy of Chinese nobility — proud, commanding, even imperial. The body remembers what the mind forgets. I wonder if the stiffness in my knees is part of that old pattern — the energy of authority asking to be released, transformed into humility.
“You’re connecting the spiritual root of the knee work — humility — with a deeper energetic imprint that has accompanied you through lifetimes. If in another incarnation you carried the frequency of authority, control, or imperial power, the physical knees — which symbolize bending, yielding, and allowing — could indeed hold the residue of that posture.”
Seen this way, the inflammation or stiffness is not a punishment, but a messenger. It’s showing where the energy of command and control still wants to soften into reverence and service.
As I do the SFT tapping, I hold gentle inner dialogues such as:
“I release all patterns of arrogance, superiority, and command that no longer serve love.”
“I allow the energy of humility and service to flow through my knees and my life.”
“I bow to life — freely, joyfully, without fear of losing power.”
Perhaps the real work now is to let that ancient pride bow to life — to allow the will that once ruled to serve. Forgiveness, then, is not only for mistakes made here and now, but also for the echoes of power, control, and separation that have travelled with us across time. When those echoes are met with love, they dissolve into wisdom — and the body begins to rest again in its natural rhythm.
Living the Practice
To let the healing take root, I now work with my knees from every angle.
Each day has its rhythm:
- Physical care. Gentle movement, short walks, simple strengthening, a warm compress when needed. I use nourishing creams, eat anti-inflammatory foods, and follow my Pink Salt protocol.
- Nutrition and support. I include good oils, greens, and a few trusted supplements to feed the joints from within.
- Rest and listening. Instead of pushing through pain, I pause. Sometimes stillness heals more than effort.
- Emotional awareness. When impatience or fear arises, I breathe into it and whisper forgiveness to my body.
- Spiritual alignment. Each morning I place my hands over my knees and say, I bow to life, not in defeat, but in reverence.
This quiet practice is teaching me that healing is a conversation, not a command.
Every small act — a stretch, a prayer, a meal prepared with care — becomes a way of crossing the rainbow boundary again and again.
Regina and I are learning the same lesson in different languages.
She prays to be filled with the pure love of Christ; I listen to my body asking for surrender.
Both paths meet in the same field — the field of humility, where love becomes whole.