Two Net of Light Gatherings in Europe were just completed. Germany, after we did Ancestral work, was flooded with Forgiveness and deep Peace was anchored in Belgium. Today I will speak of the miracle that occurred in Trier, Germany and will share the Belgian Gathering in the next newsletter.
Tanya, a psychotherapist who traveled from the bombing in Ukraine to the Net of Light Gathering in Trier, Germany, spoke the words that opened our hearts to forgiveness. “I didn’t know why I was coming to this Gathering,” she began. “Germany destroyed my country in the war and I was angry, but all of you at Net of Light invited me and paid my way so I felt I must come. But I didn’t know why. After the Ancestral work we did together yesterday, I remembered.
“About twelve years ago I saw a famous German psychologist ‘map out’ the family of Europe on T.V. Bert Hellinger had been a soldier in the war, so for this map, he took on representing Germany while other people represented the various countries of Europe. Dr. Hellinger then stood before each country and expressed his sorrow and shame at what he (Germany) had done to them. He went around to each country and when they felt his sincerity, they forgave him. But when he came to the woman who was representing Ukraine, she said, ‘I cannot forgive you. I cannot. You murdered my family, you destroyed my life and I cannot forgive you.’ They bowed to each other then, and afterwards someone asked him, ‘What happens to Ukraine now because Ukraine couldn’t forgive?’ And with great sadness, Hellinger answered, ‘Within ten years, Ukraine will suffer hard times.'”
“I am here in Germany today,” Tanya announced then, “and now I know why. The Ancestral work we did yesterday made me aware that anger doesn’t help,” she said. “It never helps. So I speak today for Ukraine, and I forgive you,” she said. “I forgive Germany and I forgive all the German people for what they did.”
All over the meeting hall people now began to weep. German women, sobbing as they spoke, voiced their gratitude to Tanya, shared their lifelong grief, and spoke of carrying a weight of sadness and despair their whole life. Some were racked with sobs, and as one of them broke down, another one stepped in to hold her. They shared a collective burden of grief and guilt. Each one understood the weight that the other carried, so immediately they were there for one another. Beautiful in their compassionate understanding, the room filled with grieving, comforting and embracing. Everyone was crying.
Then another woman stood up. “I speak now for Belgium” she said, and we took in a collective breath. “I forgive you also,” she said. “I forgive you.” And as she spoke people from the other eleven countries that had assembled here walked forward to stand with her, as they had felt the same impulse. Together they began the Ho’oponopono, the Hawaiian chant of forgiveness. “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I love you. Thank you.” The Netherlands spoke forgiveness to the Germans, Switzerland, Poland, Norway, Austria, France, Luxembourg, Ireland, and the United States spoke. Two women stepped forward and spoke for Russia and now throughout the room, everyone was voicing the Ho’oponopono.
An older German man now stepped before Tanya. “My father was a soldier in Ukraine and he would never talk about it. When I was a child, I would ask him about the war, about what he did, what he saw, but he would never speak of it. I learned only a little from seeing some letters he wrote to my mother, but only a little. I think he could not speak of what he did and saw there. I am deeply sorry for the suffering my father caused the Ukraine. Please forgive me,” he said, and Tanya opened her arms to him.
Then a tiny woman, part of the German greeting team, stepped to the front. “My family is Jewish,” she said and I speak for the Jews. I forgive you,” she said, and now the whole room was on its feet—120 people crying and holding one another. People were sobbing, listening, and bearing witness as this great unfolding of grief, shame, blame and pain rolled on. And as we witnessed for one another, together we opened our hearts. Opened and opened yet more. The room was rocking with sobs, with keening and moaning as we stood and bore witness. Together as human beings we stood, unashamed in our humanness. It was a moment of holiness. We who had gathered in this place had become awe-inspiring in our love.
No one in that room will ever forget what happened there. We are more now. We are wiser now. We are far better human beings