Friday, December 8, 2017

Healing Seas Of Sorrow





I am inspecting my own Emotional Town, a model for looking at and engaging with different emotional aspects, that has recently emerged. In this model, I am the mayor, you might say and all my feelings are residents with their own houses. I can look at the condition of each house and its members to notice and engage with my own emotional health. As I begin to take in the houses and their current conditions, I see and feel, Sadness is leaking out of of me everywhere flooding the landscape going to all my houses like an evicted beggar and asking to be taken in. Her house is boarded and broken. No one would want to visit her there. No one really wants to let her in either. Sadness is a small blue child, who cries rivers of abandonment and sails her boat, Rejection on waves of grief. She feels lost and lonely, unwanted and unlovable, a ghost drowned in sorrow come back to haunt all my choices and my future. Now she won’t come off her boat at all. Her river flows through the middle of town and we are suddenly a coastal town. She pulls right up to my own house and I have no choice but to board her boat. I can’t abandon this small sailor.
I look more closely at her and I see that she is not the blue of drowned and forgotten things, she is the blue of Krishna, soft and radiant, pale periwinkle fading to pink and there is gold all around her. Her boat is actually a treasure ship and she is an adorable imp, a bit of a pirate who has no crew. I see the other emotional houses have paid her off to stay away and so she has become rich. She is rich but she is also lonely. I look into the seas she sails as we pull away from Emotion Town and I see dolphins in the waves. They dip and dive around the boat. They are her companions. She is not now, nor never has been alone, even in her rejection from polite society, she has had company.
She wants to take me away. She wants to show me something. The water has changed as we sail out into the Void. It sparkles and bubbles all around us. Adventure beckons! She doesn’t want to live in town. She wants to sail the seas and be free to do and go wherever she pleases. She is my spirit of adventure and she will never be truly happy just sitting around in town. Town bores her. The houses that have shut to her, she feels hurt by but she has learned not to long for them or the company within. She is wild, creative and a bit unruly. Her hair blows in the wind and she lights a joint. 
Suddenly she is crying and the sea becomes stormy. Lightning flashes in the distance and I get the distinct impression she will sink the boat with both of us on it. She tells me she doesn’t care. We will become mermaids but this is not what I want, a cold lonely existence at the bottom of the sea. She points out the dolphins and whales, friends and guides. Freedom. No one asking anything of her no one needing her, her needing nothing. This now feels lonelier and lonelier. There is lightning in her eyes and lightning all around. I admit I am afraid but I am also curious and I now feel sad for her, with her. She flashes and snarls. She doesn’t want pity and I can really feel now, she doesn’t want to be alone either. 
Her little blue feet are planted on the deck of the boat as it tussles about in the swells. I get down on my knees and open my arms to her but she is not interested. The waves crash harder. We are beyond hugs to fix this. I get off my knees and grab for the rigging. I do not know how to sail but I will not let us go down, either. I manage to pull the sail in and boat calms a little. She looks surprised that I am even trying but I don’t quit. I grab hold of the steering wheel and try to navigate even though I have no idea what I am doing. 
I tell her, I will not let her sink the ship. I will not let us drown. We will not become mermaids this time. I tell her, I’ve got this. I don’t know what I am doing but I will not abandon her and I will not let her sink this ship. She smiles. “That’s all I ever wanted." Her toes wiggle and there are crescent moons in her eyes instead of lightning now. The stars come out above us and a whale breaches near by. Moonlight glitters off the water and plankton glows all around. The ship stabilizes, the seas calm. 
Now she comes to me and we sit in the netting cuddling and watching the sea life stir all around us. She calms and shivers. Now she does indeed seem like a frightened human girl. There are hollows under her eyes and her lips are blue. I use my own magic to manifest, from thin air, a huge soft comforter, which I wrap around her and small brazier over which we cook hot dogs on sticks. As we snuggle into each other, the shivers subside for both of us. Our bodies and bellies warm and I pop a whole huge pillow nest into being for us to fall back into and gaze at the stars. 

“Thank you for showing me your world”, I tell her. “Thank you for coming with me,” she replies. 

Art: Ocean of Dreams by Josephine Wall 

Sunday, November 19, 2017

Integration: Melding The Lovely and The Awkward, Unapologetically



I am committed to integration and the alchemical fusion that it brings. This means owning myself. ALL of myself, the past as well as the present to give rise to the future in which I want to live. Integration is not about forgetting or about making excuses or spiritually bypassing with premature forgiveness before the nitty gritty processing is done. It's about accountability and claiming my energy and feelings within the memories of my past, my energy, my story and my belonging, if to no one else than fully, to myself.
I'm in an odd place right in this moment. I feel weird and wobbly and powerful and the wind howling around the corners of my house is like my own inner banshee, only she is not angry or morose at this moment. She feels free!
Lately I have been sharing on social media, about my own history of violence, as a young adult, as a child, the family heritage of trauma and anger. Doing so not only exposes me, leaving me feeling incredibly vulnerable but also my parents. One who many of you know, who is somewhat of a public figure. I have no desire to tarnish anyones reputation. But really, a reputation is a collection of projections, positive and negative. It does reflect our actions but it will never fully encompass a whole person. It is a mirage. It is not real.
Experiences though nothing more than memories now, are still stored and felt and lived through this body. Those experiences negative or positive affect my energy and choices, my relationships, my life and my body. This body is mine and I need to claim it, beyond the energy that I was steeped in as a child, as a teen, as a young adult. Beyond what my parents could or could not give me. Beyond the leakage of their toxic inner worlds onto me. Even beyond their love and care for me because that too, I must claim to fully integrate.
I love my parents. I know they love me. That is not in question. Nor does that love exempt my own need to examine all the emotional or behavioral references that I inherited from them. As a child they were a lot of fun and they could both be emotionally volatile and it was scary. My mom was manic depressive as I was growing up. I never knew what I was going to get. Now she is one of my best friends, we have done a lot healing of our shared shame heritage together. My dad can be rude, dismissive and emotionally unpredictable. I love him and I love my fathers work, Matrix Energetics, which has been a huge part of my life, something we shared for many years and helped me see him in a new light and grow into more of myself.
That does not change our family history nor my need to investigate and express my experience of it at this time. We are mixtures, all of us, of dark and light. We have the capacity to both hurt and heal each other in life altering ways. Staring only into the light is blinding not healing. Stumbling through darkness is frightening and isolating.
I must integrate all my elements to heal. For me that means acknowledging all the material that I have to work with. Feeling into all the references that have taken up residence in my body, that inform the way I make my choices and agreements as well define who and how I choose to share my life with. It's all in there, in me, the fun, powerful and supportive references as well as the memories that make me tremble with fear and shame.
I wish no harm to anyone through sharing these explorations and revelations. It's not about that or even asking anyone for anything that they may or may never be able to give. I want to let the old traumas go and fully become the person I am meant to be. My deep desire is to claim all of myself and sharing my process openly, is part of how I am doing that as a writer and a healer or at the very least, one who is healing, one who believes in the power of vulnerability and honesty and is tired of holding in secrets. I have no desire to present a one dimensional persona to myself or the world, we've all had enough of the masks. I am not at this time talking about specifics of my past. I will.
Why? To dethrone shame and isolation. I deeply believe we heal when we share our stories. Shame causes us to isolate. It says to us, you are the only one who feels this way who has had this experience. There is something wrong with you. Normal people don't feel or live this way. And we sure as shit don't talk about it!
So I say...
FUCK NORMAL!
There is no such thing.
The truth is pain and trauma, violence and neglect are so pervasive in our society that they have become normal. Hardly anybody talks about it. We hide it and numb it, mask it from ourselves and those whom we want to be intimate with and it kills intimacy. We pretend that it didn't happen, covering up the hurt, either as perpetrators or as victims because to confront it might cause something to shatter. We might lose some ideal of ourself or of our family, a marriage or a reputation may not be able to withstand the truth that with love there is also pain. With love, fun and support we also experience trauma. Intimacy is sharing both. Integration is us allowing it all to be there without shame.
Love and toxicity are not mutually exclusive and we need to stop pretending that they are. We can deeply love someone with as much of our heart as we have access to and still by no conscious or willful ill intentions, cause them pain and inflict trauma. We all harbor hurt and have been indoctrinated with shame language. We internalize and act out diminishing beliefs and behaviors that simply get passed down from generation to generation. Both weeds and flowers grow in our gardens, naturally and some weeds are quite beautiful. Some just keep coming back and if we do not uproot those weeds once in a while they take over and choke out the life needed for other things to grow. They cut us off from the energy and the light that we need to flourish.
I feel very strongly that as individuals and as collective, this is where we are. It's not enough to sit around and try to only focus on how beautiful some things are because those weeds are out of control. We are all slowly being choked by the weeds of shame and guilt and without compassionate intervention, they keep growing.
I see a world that is ready for honesty, generosity and REAL COMPASSION. Not this cheap drug store variety that simply says, it's all ok. You're FINE. Everything is as it's meant to be. Which maybe it is in a sense. But that does not excuse us from confronting what is toxic, or even incongruent, sad or frightening, both in our inner and outer worlds because that is how we clean our wounds. That is how we discover our courage. That is how we truly heal and grow as spiritually and emotionally mature beings. If my sharing of my experiences as well as my process gives one person the permission, the courage to face their own trauma or can act as a glove for them to find the strength to uproot some noxious weed in their garden, then any potential embarrassment or discomfort to me is worth it because others have done the same for me. Others have shared their pain and struggle their process and given me courage. I owe it to myself, to life and to love to do the same.
Thank you for listening, for feeling for being as real as you can be too!
Together We Thaw!

With an open heart and a belly full of courage.
Justice

http://www.playfullyconscious.com

Friday, October 6, 2017

Walking With Death



I write with no authority on this subject but as one who has felt the pain of Deaths passing. I write as one who has lost a loved one, whose beloved dog died in my own bed, as one who has lost friends, as one who is shaken anytime there is a mass exodus of life into the Other Realm, be it through natural or a very unnatural tragedy. I write about this as one who feared her mother would cross to the other side after a heart attack earlier this year. I write as one who lost a client who was more like a grandfather, also earlier this year. I write as one who virtually guided a little girl, a toddler to the other side just a couple of months ago. I write as one who was recently deeply touched by the death of a man, that I confess, I barely knew, my wusbands father. I write as one who holds hands with Death and though shaken and afraid at times, who wants to give up at times but who is in no way ready to go quietly into the Night. I write as one who really truly feels Death as intrinsic a part of life as birth and every bit as sacred and natural.
As I sit here, one hand is held by Life. It pulls and nudges, egging me into adventure through participation with enthusiasm. Skipping a bit now down the path, I feel myself being carried on through it's great momentum. I find bubbles well up and I smile in these early morning hours, a rough giggle escaping my throat as I sip my coffee and feel alive!
My other hand is cradled gently in Deaths. I look down and see a skeletal paw. It rests delicately over my own. Today there is no pressure. No pull. Today Death reminds me that like Life, She is always here. They are two sisters and I am the third, or perhaps they are more like my cosmic aunties and I, a curious, alchemical mix of syntropy and entropy, a puppy like child between their ancient presences.  If I am honest, I know that both the sisters, Life and Death are always with me. Life and Death holding my hands, forever companions. More often than not, I do not really think much about one or the other. I go about my days doing what I do, feeding my body, moving it, creating, connecting and doing my fair bit of checking out.
On those occasions when Life lets go and Death claims a soul or even many, I notice Her. I notice the gasp, a personal or collective jerk, when Deaths grasp pulls a being or many into Her realm. It comes as a shock because while doing the business of life it is so easy to forget that Death is always there. Part of the family, even if it is that one member that we would rather forget. Whether we dwell on Deaths presence or do our damn best to eradicate the awareness of Her from our consciousness, She is always there.
Death is not evil although Her appearance often seems unfair. The immediacy of an ending through a sudden horrific tragedy or the quiet culmination of prolonged suffering, Death does not discriminate. That ephemeral hand suddenly becomes more solid as at the veil thins and an apparition becomes a palpable presence, deeply felt and unavoidable. In Her wake washes anger, grief, rage and despair. But also on some sweet occasions, relief. All these feelings become a a bizarre cocktail that we are compelled to consume and its taste is a strange mixture of all we love and fear traveling through our bodies and into our bellies. Suddenly we become highly aware of both hands tugging and pulling us in opposite directions. Some part of us, the hand held by Death, perhaps, knows that this is a part of peace of existence. Some part of us the part that is suddenly highly aware of the Life's pull, feels the terrible, beautiful, raw brevity of this journey. For some, it seems unfairly brief; cut off from life by fear, disaster, cruelty and disease.
The hold that the material world has on us may lead us to feel that Death is a robber, stealing what is not rightfully Hers. Truly and as unfathomable or as justly as it may seem, Death is a constant companion and the realm which she inhabits, is intrinsic to every nuance of this life in all its mundane and sacred complexity and ultimate simplicity. Simple because energy goes on, maybe not in the way that we are used to but in a way in which energy is eternal, never being born, never dying, a continuity of consciousness expressing itself in a myriad of ways. Where this awareness is not a panacea for those who are grieving, nothing is. Nothing is meant to be. Perhaps we must allow ourselves to feel loss and it's possibility to really fully grasp the precious gift of our own mortality. Perhaps holding hands with Death reminds us of what is always in the other hand, Life.
LIFE. Precious. Brief. Life. Sharp. Soft. Life, full of pain and delight, full of success and failure and if we are honest, many tiny deaths within each span of it.
We die to our infancy when we become toddlers. We die to our childhood when we become adolescents. That adolescent dies when we become and adult. The maiden dies when we become a mother. The mother dies when we become a crone. Yet, up to and even beyond the moment of death all these identities writhe within us, some more suppressed than others, some given more reign to play in our consciousness on any given day. So maybe in that light, nothing dies. Nothing ends. Those who's bodies the light has gone out of, their light goes on in our hearts in our memories and though we can no longer touch their hand or bury our face in their smell, that thing which is intrinsic to them endures. To those we love, to those we knew, to those who we do not know but by virtue of the transpersonal nature of life, who's hands we still hold, they go on in memory in our continued actions in their names, cried and whispered and for the sake of our own existence. We honor them in the quest for justice. We honor them in the way we honor our own lives, in the way that we choose to fully embrace both the Sisters, Life and Death, continuing bravely on this adventure. Being the best we can. Doing the best we can. Feeling what must be felt and tending to those, including ourselves who need love and nurturing. Perhaps loving each other and loving life is the way we honor the souls of those who have gone, those who are here and those who are yet to find bodies in this tragically beautiful place we call Home.

Monday, September 18, 2017

Living A Sensual Life: Here's A Hint It's Not Always Pleasant


Wow!  So it has been some time since I have shared here. The process of converting feelings to thoughts, to words, seems a bit strange and unfamiliar at this point. In the interest of once again, picking up one of my favorite practices, I will attempt to share.
To say in short, that this summer I have been waking into more aliveness, really sounds too pleasant because there have been many elements to it that have not been pleasant at all. Yet, I persist.
I am committed to living a sensual life. That may sound great. Hot tubs, massage, long walks, gardening, eating, dancing, lighting candles and having great sex are some of the things that come to mind when I think of a sensual life. Really it is so much deeper and so much more interesting and intense than that. What I am discovering is that sensuality is really the process of coming fully alive in myself, in my body within whatever experience I am having and that is not always pleasant, not even close! Bringing those numbed out, complacent aspects of myself back online can be frightening and even downright painful but loving them deeply is so rewarding.
For the last couple of years I have been experiencing intermittent anxiety. It began two summers ago when a situation was brought to my attention that kind of rocked my world.  Things were not as they had previously seemed and I found myself constantly worrying my daughters well being. The whole experience left me a bit shell shocked and with a deeper understanding that I cannot control anyone or anything that they do but that I still have to deal with my feelings about it.  These experiences have continued as a common thread that has been unraveling within me for the last two years.
I have really come to realize through this time, that all I can do is tend to me in any given moment, what is coming up from within me and what is happening around me, as best as I can.  Sometimes that looks like sitting on my deck with one hand on my heart and one on my belly, simply reminding myself to BREATHE. In those moments, just doing that hat has felt like a huge accomplishment and in those moments, no matter what I can or cannot do I just have to trust that I am enough, that my being and holding space for myself is enough.
I am not a oblivious to the state of the world, as a feeling being, I cannot be. There is so much turmoil on the planet right now, there is so much global upheaval happening, the earth is trembling and fuming and we are intrinsically connected to her. We can't help but feel what is happening all around. We are feeling both current collective and ancient and ancestral trauma we need to do our damn best to process it.
So how do you know if it's mine to process?  
I can feel it.  Anything that has come into my awareness, often as some unwanted feeling or perhaps, as it has been for me, as a sense of non specific or even very specific anxiety, is mine to tend.
The process I have come to with navigating anxiety is simply this:
BE HERE NOW. Place hand on heart, hand on belly, breathe deeply into my body. Love whatever arises. Act on what is presented.
More often than not, when I feel anxious I am not here in my body. More often than not, whatever I am stressing about is not in front of me, is not in my control or is not happening now. Even if it is, I am going to do better with any challenge if I am actually here to face it. When I am present with myself and my feelings as they are unfolding in any given moment, even when those feelings are unpleasant, I am showing up for me and life as best as I can. These feelings may not all be what I would choose, but they are mine to experience. Mine to tend. I am the one that has to do it. No one can do if for me, even if they can hold space while I cry and shake and come undone. They cannot do for me. I have to do it. The pleasure is all mine, even when it is no very pleasurable.
Another shift in perspective I have had around anxiety is that those feelings are part of my own experience of wakening into myself. Let me explain. If I imagine that my emotions have a similar structure to a physical body then I can take any emotion and tuck it away and eventually it will become numb, much as if you tuck a limb under your body it falls asleep. Now think about when you move that physical limb again. It huts. It tingles. It's not an entirely pleasant set of sensations, even though they are completely necessary to return the blood flow to the limb.
I tend to tuck my arms under myself when I sleep, maybe unconsciously, it makes me feel safe, I don't know but sometimes when I wake up, I'll fling my arms against the headboard to get the blood flow back to them. One day it occurred to me that my emotions were no different. As things continue to surface for me to tend, inwardly and outwardly, I make a new rule. This incredible feeling of energetic unrest that I have been experiencing, is very simply an indicator that some part of me previously configured to numbness was coming back online and as uncomfortable as that was and is, it is also very exciting!  I get to wake up to more of myself and it is a constant process of delight and occasional terror. Oh what will I find, what will I feel next!?
Yesterday living a sensual life was all about walking to the market through a light autumn rain. Today living a sensual life is all about feeling and tending to my own frustration and disappointment. Today I am handling business I hate handling, talking to the IRS and the credit bureaus. Highly unpleasant and necessary elements to living and being in business for myself. Being in that space means I am feeling my frustration with myself with these organizations and asking myself, what do I need to do to show up for me?  Part of showing up is not avoiding, realizing that these issues both the personal, professional and collective ones, will not just go away if I can just stay positive enough.
No. I need to realize that some days I have to dig into the shit that life brings me, has brought me or is so deeply ingrained as part of a cultural identity, I hardly now how or where to find myself in the midst of what needs to be done, what needs to be felt, acknowledged, healed and tended. That is exactly the process that needs to be engaged in to truly cultivate pleasure, allowing it to arise naturally as seeds opening and sprouting rising through deeply furrowed rows and occasional brows. Equal care for the scary, unwanted, numbed out, forgotten aspects as well as that bathing beauty whom I love so well. Today living a sensual life means getting my hands dirty, diving in and loving the hell out of all myself while doing it.

Wednesday, July 26, 2017

Are You Wakening Into Life?!



Do you know you your body is an instrument, a divining rod for all that you feel, all that you know, your own unique interface for who you are and all that you experience, both consciously and unconsciously? Your nervous system is one of the finest networks designed by nature and our endeavors to replicate and recreate, through the internet and other communication webs, what has already been done so exquisitely, by the cosmos, is really an adorable attempt to understand and utilize the finer inner workings of our own highly sensitive, internal system, a radically interwoven web of interconnections, both seen and unseen, measurable and immeasurable to human observation. We are so much more than dull meat suits! Even if you believe that you are soul inside a body, having a human experience, this does not really fully cover intricacies or simplicity, of how fully connected to life you truly are. Stardust walks with you, inside your bones, the very same elements that compose the cosmos, are fundamentally you. You are a universal intelligence, now as you are.  Nowhere to go nothing to become, no process of enlightenment to be undertaken, nothing to prove, heal or even realize, unless you care to realize, in this moment, you are already whole, you are the very answer  that you seek, you are life, breath and Connection itself, ever wakening to Its own existence.
So with this inevitable awareness unfolding all around, more people than ever diving into the experience of their own deliciously, human-divinity, why are we the most, numbed, drugged out, population, ever to grace this earth? It's simple, it is our own awareness that is doing us in. Because we are aware of ourselves, we are also aware of fears, limitations, desires, we are aware that something seems to be missing and none of the things that are promised to us, sold to us in droves, from technology to religion, actually make us feel any better. They don't deliver the everlasting glamour, the piety, the wealth or propriety that they are supposed to and so we drag on through life, wondering silently or not so silently, "What the fuck?!"
We act like beggars and robbers when we are all Kings and Queens, equal to, not above, all things. We act as if our life force is something to be bartered with. We act as if we don't matter, then struggle to assert our personality in all things, attempting to give the world a makeover in our own image, instead of realizing that the images, and experiences of the word are already part of us, part of our very make up both biologically and energetically. We enact these horrors, create these rules and regulations and set ourselves up to be at odds with our very being and then we wonder why we are destructive, depressed, anxious and even suicidal? It is no wonder, we are, so many of us, doing our very best to eradicate our very life force, our ability to choose what we truly value and create in harmony with our souls and nature. It is no wonder that we suffer. It is no wonder that we choose drama, distortion, distraction and intoxication instead of fully feeling ourselves and all that we have engendered in this world. We are both the authors of horror and wonder and we constantly live at odds with ourselves and nature, walking a line between destruction and creation and not really understanding where we fit in, what our purpose is or why we are here, just knowing, deep in our bones, that something is off and it is not supposed to be this way.
As shamans, through antiquity have practiced, mental illness or dis-ease, is also a disease of soul, or perhaps more accurately, an indication of soul loss. How can we feel at ease in our bodies in our lives, when our most fundamental elements of self are diluted or even missing? The answer is we can't and the entire savior culture is more of a detriment than an aid to us divining who we are what we truly need. I do not doubt that medicine has its place and utility, or that religion can bring wisdom and comfort but popping pills, guzzling alcohol, or stabbing ourselves with needles, is not the answer, anymore than trying to pay our way into heaven. We need our souls to function and no one can give that to you, no matter what they promise and no commercial no matter how good they make it look, can fix your life with what they are selling.
Dare I say, and I do, that the very feelings that many of us avoid and perceive to be harbingers of doom, may be the very wake up calls we are looking for? What if what is known as depression, is really a state of deep self oppression, in which we refuse or do not know how to feel, see or acknowledge the deeper realizations and messages that stir within our bodies and psyche? It may be anger, grief, resentment, rage or even hopelessness, but to acknowledge, to feel, is to live. We may not want to feel that way, who does, but we cannot deny the elements of our human composition and expect to retain our humanity. We are programmed left and right with the idea that if we are doing it right, whatever that means, that we we will inevitably be healthy, wealthy and wise, sexy and irresistible to each other and the cosmos, and if not then just give your troubles to Jesus, or whatever guru of the day you wish to lay your autonomy at the feet of, or here's an other option, take some accountability for how you feel, what you have created and the choices that you make based on whomever's value system you are operating under and make a stand for what you actually value! As our own values slowly erode, those codes that give us access to our very soul intelligence, become replaced with a societal value structure and if you do not really buy into what the world seems to want you to value, then well, you can look to a savior or to Prozac, to save you from your own radical self. But here is the truth, you don't need saving. You don't need to lie prostate for anyone living or dead, to redeem yourself, you don't need to barter your life-force and resources to buy little bottles full of little symbols for normalization.
What you need, dare I be so bold to suggest, or no, I will not suggest shit to you. I will say what I have found I need, because who am I to tell you what you need? Not another goo goo with all the answers. No. I don't know what you need, but I can and will advocate for my own.
In my own experience what I have found I need, is to allow myself to fully feel the immensity of my being, the fullness of my humanity, to tend to my insecurities, to lean into the discomfort, to allow to the joy to rise, to ride with exuberance, the ups and downs of being alive and in this body. What I need, is to offer myself patience and compassion for the constant state of contradiction that I embody as a living, breathing human. What I need is to embrace the audacity to focus first on myself, who I am, how I feel, what I love, what I need, discerning breath by breath, moment to moment, what is appropriate for me to commit my life-force to as each opportunity arises and I choose to meet it, exactly as I am, now, not how I wish to someday be. That my friend, is good enough, for me. That is a worthy endeavor, a cause worth playing for, my own delicious enlivening! Yummy!
I recently came to understand for myself, that a sensation that I was associating with anxiety, is actually parts of myself that have gone numb, have fallen complacent, waking up. It's uncomfortable, undesirable even, and yet, so life affirming. The need to tend to the sensations rattling my body, brings back me into myself in a deeper, more compassionate way, and even as it activates me, triggers me even, I acknowledge that every event in in my life unfolds to support this enlivening. I can only thank life for giving me the experiences that I need to fully claim my values, my own life-force as I delve into my purpose, which is so elegantly simple, to become fully alive in this moment, in this body, compassionately attentive to my own humanity, divinity and all my incredible talents a well as shortcomings. I now understand anxiety, simply, as pent up life-force, my own yearning for life to be more fully lived.
So many of us are actually being wakened into life through the very experiences that we try to avoid, to numb, to control, to subvert, to manage. So many of us seek to normalize, whatever that means, our individual signature with the hope of fitting in, of being good girls and boys, of not rocking the boats, not changing too much, not feeling too much and we are all suffering for it. We agree to be a little smaller, a little duller a little less vital than we could be, and so as this great awakening continues to rumble our bellies, shake us from our beds, knock us into our hearts, our guts and out of our heads, we must all ask ourselves, how do I want to play with my one precious life, my vitality, creativity and indomitable spirit? How do I know how to come to alive in this life? I ask you this, when was the last time you laughed until you shook, until tears streamed down your face? When was the last time you let yourself cry, until you were emptied and cleansed? When was the last time you danced for no reason, for no one but you, for the pure pleasure of feeling your own body move?  When was the last time you dreamed, sang, or howled at the moon?
Life stirs inside and all around and will take no substitute for being fully, unapologetically lived. We are being wakened into life!







Sunday, July 9, 2017

Feeling My Way To Freedom

No one is perfect. No one is happy all the time. No couple has it all figured out, no matter how good they may look. Nobody feels good all the time and it is frankly really hateful of ourselves and each other to insist that we do. No one can live up to that kind of pressure! So I invite you to take a breath, sit down, pull your feet up and wail with grief, anger or even joy, if you like. Once the story begins to unravel the expression of any emotion is just so deliciously primal. 
I myself, have been living in a very intensified state. In the last month, a story that I had been particularly fond of, has unraveled, I find myself in a choose your own adventure tale, and I find the choices that are unfolding before me, are not what I thought they would be. 
Through this time, a deeply unsettling sense of anxiety has revealed itself to actually be a rather relentless anger, uncomfortable and yet somehow, so life affirming. Fire melting through numbness, waking sensations both desired and terrifying.
Anger is a hard one for me to register, the fear of becoming out of control with it, turns it to a lurker in my awareness. Other feelings I can register quite readily, but anger, it frankly frightens me and although I know it is mine, it is the feeling that I most readily wish to blame another for. You see, I cannot possibly be the one generating all this discomfort for myself, yet I do and I do even more damage by not acknowledging it, when it is there. I'd rather feign hurt. Hurt I can handle, but when the hurt sears through my body, no longer as hot tears, but more like a brazier in my belly, I shut it down, I ruminate in past pains, rather than letting that sacred fire burn through the old growth, I mean, what if it gets out of control?  My anger could very well consume a small village.
Slowly, I am learning, deeply, not just in my mind, that attempting to manage my emotions through suffocation or replication is not true fluidity and is not actually feeling, and where either of those choices may provide temporary relief, both will also lead to ongoing emotional outbursts, self implosion, recriminating self hate, as well as miscommunication with others. 
I do not belong in a box, not one of anyone else's choosing or my own oh so clever, craftsmanship. I can never be all one thing and when I insist that I am, I find I have to shift others roles in my mind to maintain my position. I will actually poison my perceptions of others and what is between us, to make them the source of my discomfort and pain and latch onto that pain like a dog with a really stinky toy that should have been tossed out a month ago. Yet, is so comforting and familiar, I just don't want to let it go. Pain like a guest that has overstayed it's welcome, yet I am too polite to ask it to leave and too angry to actually be a good host to it. So what now?
What lies beyond this story? What other feelings are waiting to take root? What happens if I let go of my insistence that love must be this way or that? What might happen if I truly let the story go and tend only to the sensations that arise from this body in this moment, making no one's burden my joy or discomfort?
That sounds potentially a lot like freedom!
I know the Light is not courted into existence but is simply allowed. I know that love blooms not because of how many seeds are put into the ground, but how well I tend to the ones that I choose to plant. I know that rage can be fuel, that certain seeds only crack open under the most incendiary conditions. I know that new life is always sprouting and that holding onto certain seasons is as unnatural as it is unsatisfying. I know all of this.  I know an awful lot.
My mind is a most ingenious trap, forever seeking ladders to climb and imagining the most fascinating obstacles to be in my way. But now, in this moment, I am feeling it. I am feeling myself as the storm furious and cleansing, with no object to destroy or to liberate, a storm does not think in such terms. A storm simply does not think! I feel the lighting cracking inside me and the ozone it generates, my senses picking up nuances from the very air around me that tingle with vitality. I am this force and I must live at its center, in and all around it, fully claiming me, which inevitably lets you off the hook.  
I release you! I surrender. This static vog between us, melting in the light of real love and full self acceptance. A new day rises within and without, and as we drag the rubbish from under the beds, from out of the closets, I find these are not the treasures I once thought they were. They are empty costumes, they are outdated outfits, itchy and constricting and we deserve so much more. We deserve liberation! We deserve to see each other stripped of our old constructs and tedious roles, we deserve love and acceptance not these veiled threats, change or else. Change or no change, we deserve freedom.






Thomas Wilfred, Unit #50, Elliptical Prelude and Chalice

Wednesday, June 21, 2017

The Goddess Is Buzzing

The Goddess is singing in my ear, or perhaps more accurately, I should say, buzzing! 


With the Solstice energy rising high, I can feel Her, the Eternal One.  In pagan tradition, She is the Unchanging, the Undying. Yes, she moves through various phases, Maiden, Mother, Crone, but it is the role of the God, to unite with her, to surrender to her and in so doing, be reborn. This is the role of ego, to surrender to the Source, to return, over and over to Darkness, to the Womb, the Void, to Silence. This is life in balance. Ego, or energy going out, can only expand from that space within, lest entropy completely take over and the entire universe fall into disarray! 
Ha! The inward turn, is actually inevitable, so the question is really, how much suffering do we really need to generate in avoidance of that inevitability? The answer is really so simple, none. We do not actually need to generate any suffering, yet we do, so do we believe in the sacredness or purpose of suffering or do we, now choose, to see suffering for what it really is, resistance to natures cycles. 
Our modern society seems hell bent on resisting the cycles of nature. We are the only species that can, not only better its position in life with its creativity, but can use the very same ingenuity to destroy ourselves and all around us. We are inherently, creative and destructive. That is not a bad thing. We must be willing to dismantle the old, to give rise to new growth. Please note, I do not say new paradigm here because that is irrelevant. There is no new paradigm! This notion that a new paradigm can arise from our current value systems to replace the current personal and societal dysfunction, is but a trap of ego, another phase of resistance to the return to Stillness, a clever attempt at salvation through doing and over doing, rather than going within, resting and reconfiguring, which to ego, is very much like dying, and that it resists with every fiber of its existence.  Ego loves the idea of evolution, that we are ever rising to a greater state of never before experienced exaltedness, but that is simply not the case. "This has all happened before and will all happen again." To quote, Battlestar Gallactica. Life is cyclical. 
History provides us with plenty of evidence that we have existed in a paradigm in which we lived in harmony with each other and nature, to a larger degree. In no flaming shock, those times were presided by the principles of the Great Goddess whose values include, harmony, community and collaboration. Similarly, this is how a bee hive functions and looking back through antiquity, the Goddess has been symbolized through time, as a bee or in relation to bees. Honey is one of the few materials that does not degrade over time; honey that has been sealed in jars, found in tombs in Egypt, up to 3,000 years old, is still edible!  Talk about unchanging!
Does it escape your attention, that the bee population has been decimated, in recent years. That the unholy mind of innovation, bent on creating itself, greater than any god, is destroying the very principals through which nature functions in harmony? Do you notice the disease of youth seeking, in our culture, the inability to embrace the next phase of our development.  From maiden, to mother, to crone, these sacred passages are invalidated with every procedure imaginable, the erasure of the evidence of wisdom from the very bodies that bear the life-force into this world. 
Not only does this show in the way we treat our bodies and our obsession with staying youthful, but in our greater society as well, as we refuse to move out of our natural fire phase, our grotesque destruction and consumption of everything, and into the next phase of our natural development, wood, the phase in which our collective begins putting down roots and once again caring for its own people. In the study of ancient cultures, it was through the discovery evidence of an existing social structure, that cared for those who could not care for themselves, through which the humanity of the species was confirmed.  
To return to a truly shared state of divinity, is to once again, fully embrace our humanity, our frailties, commonalities and differences, our interdependence upon each other for more than our mere egos survival, but to truly thrive together as individuals and as a species. We already have the key to cease our cycles of suffering in our hearts, our wombs, deep within the subtle intelligence of our beloved bodies and the body on which we all live, Earth.
As the Great Whee of Life turns, it is once again time to embrace the wisdom of the Bees, community, collaboration and harmony.  

Inspiration for this article, came from my own dreams last night in which I met with the Meissae, the Bee Priestesses and in which it was conferred to me that, we as a society, need to be seen connecting with each other, caring for each other, touching each other, even when that makes others uncomfortable.  In further dream exploration, a utopian society was shown to me, "a new paradigm" world in which the same dysfunctions still underlies, beneath the shiny exterior because that world was still built on regulation and religion.  From latin regulate (v.) early 15c., "adjust by rule, control," move in a straight line. As well as religion, whose roots mean to tie or bind.

To me the Melissae are saying, "Hey honey, this is the sweetness to life as well as its greatest medicine and our eradicable message, is simply to live by the Golden Rule, to do unto others as you would have done to you. Listen to Nature and to the Buzz of your own Heart."

Further inspiration came from this article http://mirrorofisis.freeyellow.com/id576.html