Last night my daughter and I were on Skype together, and I got to witness one of the most exhilarating experiences that as her mother I got to witness. She described to me a session she had with a client who had been in pain most if not all of his life. She showed me the energy waves she felt and how it had affected both of them. She had to stop talking several times because she was so moved to tears. Her face altered as she spoke and as she cried. She became right in front of me the angel being that she truly is. She opened her heart so freely and lovingly to another soul who blended his energy with hers to create this healing of great magnitude. I saw in her every difficulty, every tragedy, every remorse, and every painful experience morph into this light being that shone brighter than I ever thought possible. I watched this transformation, and it gave me not only hope that I could do this for myself, but it also gave me direction on how to do it.
She has been a master teacher for me from the first time I held her. I knew we were going to be on a ride of our lives back in 1980, but I had no idea that it would turn out like it has so far. She teaches me over and over how to let go and to trust in the moment, to trust in who I really am, and to allow that being to show up. I've allowed others to define my life and how I live it. I have been a people-pleaser, and let others determine for me my own living conditions and my work. I have watched my daughter meander through her own life, test-driving different personas until discovering the one that is truly hers. I watch in awe and gratitude for having a model from which I can learn. I see how the Universe bends over backwards to open doors for her when she's so presently in the moment and happy there. I see the doors slam shut that do not serve her, and I watch how she adjusts her own sails with expertise and grace. I watch her flow through the choices presented to her, following the signs that show up. She sifts through the feelings of wonderment and lets the detritus fall away.
What I most want to acknowledge in this post is the joy I felt as she described the natural process of bringing her gift forth and showering it with great love for another soul who had come to her bearing his pain and sorrow. She opened herself up and allowed that light we all have within us to merge with another's light and it raised them both up to a place they'd never been before.
The only way I see to uncovering that magic within is to be still and to excavate until I get down to that very core that is my true-ness, my connection to all that is, that light spark that shines every time I feel tremendous joy. It is in that moment that I recognize myself and every doubt disintegrates. It is that instant that my own light can shine, and it is my desire to allow those instants become how I live my life. Those joy-filled, over-the-top exciting moments allow me the expansive imaginings to create a life of creativity in which I can grow. I drop the pretenses of who you think I am because it's a road that dead ends, and it is so damn desolate there. I choose the path that leads to fulfillment, and that path lies within.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Friday, March 7, 2014
relish happy
Guidance from Eileen Caddy
Enter Into The Secret Place of The Most High
There is so much going on in the outer that these times of withdrawal for you are most important, these times of entering into the ‘secret place
of the Most High’. There in the peace and silence you can readjust your
whole being, draw on the source of all power and so return refreshed
and revitalised, ready to cope with all that lies ahead of you. Every
soul needs these times of readjusting. Some realise it but others don’t
and busy themselves in great activities, which exhaust them and they
become like a rundown clock that needs rewinding. Unless they go into
the silence for rewinding, they become ineffective and eventually stop
ticking. That is why every now and again I have to remind you how
vitally important these times of withdrawal are. The hours spent alone
with Me are vital for the work you are doing for Me, are vital for your
spiritual advancement. These times alone with Me mean more to you than
anything. They are your meat and drink, they are the food of the Spirit
which enables you to do what you know has to be done with courage and
without hesitation.
7 March 2014
I just read the above paragraph right after making my coffee and bagel this morning, after settling down on the couch, after letting the dog out and then back in, and after questioning (as I too often do) what I'm doing with my life.
I have been a working maniac most of my life, if not all, until recently, and there are more than just a few moments that I find myself critical of my present inactivity. I'm in a place right now of re-inventing my life by re-directing my thoughts, and I am finding this not the easiest task I've ever encountered.
I don't want to work just to keep busy and "feel" productive anymore. After three years of being a machine that rarely turned off, I find myself in a peculiar situation for me. Time stretching out before me, unraveling endlessly, and me sitting here at my laptop with a hot cup of coffee beside me wondering just what in the hell do I do with myself today?
My thoughts meander around all kinds of possibilities that create a bit of angst in my soul because I question how I ended up here, and more importantly why I ended up here. I question my own heart sometimes too. My intuition seems to have led me astray. Or, are all of these questions just unfocused meanderings in my head that serve absolutely no purpose but to help me feel my way back into the vibrations I enjoy dancing with?
I have always awakened with a full to-do list. Years have been spent with those to-do lists growing longer and never being completed. I don't make those lists anymore. I've turned off that machine. I'm learning to quiet my mind without activity. I'm learning what it means to just be still and find that happy place within. I'm not playing by the rules I was raised with anymore, and now I'm standing at a precipice wondering how I live in a world without the rules I had internalized years ago.
A friend told me last night to focus on what I want, to write it down, proclaim it to the world, and let it go. Apparently right now is a major vortex of dreams coming true, or so I was told. The matrix is losing its dominance over those awakened, and now is the time of our lives to allow those dreams to be fulfilled.
Hm, the difficulty with that, declaring what I want, is that I don't have great clarity on what it is I really want besides living off-grid with an amazing garden, animals and like-minded souls. I have not discovered that here in upstate NY, and I want a longer growing season and milder temperatures than what's offered here. (Hm... sounding like I do know the basics of what I want.)
I have spent my life going after what I wanted with such a strong will that nothing was going to hold me back. I don't have that strong desire right now. I don't know where it went, but I got nothing right now. I have always known where I wanted to live, where I wanted to move to and how I wanted to be once I got there. Well, not now. I feel emptied out. It's been a time of seclusion without constant productivity. I was secluded for three years in my last relationship, but I was so damn busy that when I did stop to view my life, where I lived, how I lived, and what I was doing, I would get depressed. The solution? Stop being still. There was no time with my mind being emptied out. If my hands weren't busy, I was reading. I read everything in sight. I had four library cards, and almost all my outings consisted of collecting more and more books. Don't get me wrong. I am NOT complaining about my life at all. I am sifting through the memories to decide what I want to bring forward now.
I have spent my life going after what I wanted with such a strong will that nothing was going to hold me back. I don't have that strong desire right now. I don't know where it went, but I got nothing right now. I have always known where I wanted to live, where I wanted to move to and how I wanted to be once I got there. Well, not now. I feel emptied out. It's been a time of seclusion without constant productivity. I was secluded for three years in my last relationship, but I was so damn busy that when I did stop to view my life, where I lived, how I lived, and what I was doing, I would get depressed. The solution? Stop being still. There was no time with my mind being emptied out. If my hands weren't busy, I was reading. I read everything in sight. I had four library cards, and almost all my outings consisted of collecting more and more books. Don't get me wrong. I am NOT complaining about my life at all. I am sifting through the memories to decide what I want to bring forward now.
And what are those things I want to carry with me? The knowledge and skills I acquired. I was more creative in those three years than in all my years combined. I drew things. I've never drawn in my life, at least nothing I wanted to show anyone. My drawings were screen-printed onto t-shirts, and some of those shirts I made into dresses.
I went through an experience with my daughter last fall that brought me closer to her father and allowed such beautiful space for me to love him and his wife. I realized then with the four of us together what a family we had created. I knew then that my partner of three years was not part of that. He chose not to join me, and I was perfectly happy to not have him with me. I was able to view my life without him in it, and I could see intense love and gratitude with and for people I now had in my life. I saw that I was not alone. I realized that I could suffer great helplessness, despair, and fear and come out on the other side with an army of warriors beside me. That recognition deepened my love for all involved, and showed me not only how strong I am, but also how secure my footing is no matter what's going on around me.
Months later I propelled myself into a new environment, one more conducive to who I have become, a life of respite with a furry friend and like-minded housemate. I am breathing easier and more deeply for the first time since I've moved to New York. I have made the time for self-reflection, meditation, and indeed more creativity, and now I get to choose the next step. Ha! Something I thought I always wanted, and now it has come to pass. The difficulty for me is that all possibilities lay before me. Nothing is written in stone. I can go anywhere at this point in my life. For the first time I don't have an agenda, no one waiting for me, no desires that compel me. I have offers that I am weighing, and yet I am still just as undecided as before the offers came in. So, right now all I can do is be happy in each moment. That's my job right now. No matter what, sink into the now and relish the happy there.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
revelation
REVELATION MUST BE TERRIBLE
Revelation must be
terrible with no time left
to say goodbye.
Imagine that moment,
staring at the still waters,
with only the brief tremor
of your body to say
you are leaving everything
and everyone you know behind.
Being far from home is hard, but you know,
at least we are all exiled together.
When you open your eyes to the world
you are on your own for
the first time. No one is
even interested in saving you now
and the world steps in
to test the calm fluidity of your body
from moment to moment,
as if it believed you could join
its vibrant dance
of fire and calmness and final stillness.
As if you were meant to be exactly
where you are, as if,
like the dark branch of a desert river
you could flow on without a speck
of guilt and everything
everywhere would still be just as it should be.
As if your place in the world mattered
and the world could
neither speak nor hear the fullness of
its own bitter and beautiful cry
without the deep well
of your body resonating in the echo.
Knowing that it takes only
that first, terrible
word to make the circle complete,
revelation must be terrible
knowing you can
never hide your voice again.
-- David Whyte
When I got into bed tonight I pulled my David Whyte River Flow book of poetry into my lap. I held it in my hands, breathing deeply and just feeling the warmth of the pages between my fingers. I absorbed David's words through my hands and slowly rested upon a poem. Opening my eyes and looking at the pages, I read the words, and then I read them again, as I do with all of his works. This one resonated with me so much that I felt pulled to the keyboard to not only type his words, but then to write from my heart what those sentiments mean to me in the moment.
I am now at the precipice of that revelation, that knowing that my voice cannot be hidden or silenced again. I opened my heart to what I breathed in as the truth for me, the angelic wings of knowingness after a long blackened cocooned lifetime. The revelation of seeing the light once that cocoon was broken open turned my world, and continues to do so, upside down. I am discovering moment by moment that what I had once deemed true, so true that I would have bet my life on it, is not what I thought all along. The revelations keep showing up. They are terrible in the sense that I must learn to fly with my new wings, but first I have to figure out how to pull this new body out of the small hole I managed to make for my emergence.
I am on my own again with less stuff weighing me down. I carry less inhibitions, less expectations, less certainty, and less rigidness. My calm is fluid. I stare as if I have for the first time opened my eyes and seen the world anew. I poke my head out and wonder what's before me. Is there anything to tether me? To silence me? I test my new voice. It echoes in the stillness. A tear meanders down my cheek. I lift myself free from the darkness within, struggling with the tightness of the familiar, but yet yearning for the adventure of the unknown. I look about me, around me, and above me. The colors sustain me. I am clothed in beauty I have just now only grasped. I breathe in the blue, the green, the purple, and do not recognize their scents, but I am willing to step forward and smell the unfamiliar, to take it in with each breath, and awaken to the magic of stepping a foot forward on shaky ground knowing that if my foot slips I will be carried safely by my wings.
Revelation must be
terrible with no time left
to say goodbye.
Imagine that moment,
staring at the still waters,
with only the brief tremor
of your body to say
you are leaving everything
and everyone you know behind.
Being far from home is hard, but you know,
at least we are all exiled together.
When you open your eyes to the world
you are on your own for
the first time. No one is
even interested in saving you now
and the world steps in
to test the calm fluidity of your body
from moment to moment,
as if it believed you could join
its vibrant dance
of fire and calmness and final stillness.
As if you were meant to be exactly
where you are, as if,
like the dark branch of a desert river
you could flow on without a speck
of guilt and everything
everywhere would still be just as it should be.
As if your place in the world mattered
and the world could
neither speak nor hear the fullness of
its own bitter and beautiful cry
without the deep well
of your body resonating in the echo.
Knowing that it takes only
that first, terrible
word to make the circle complete,
revelation must be terrible
knowing you can
never hide your voice again.
-- David Whyte
When I got into bed tonight I pulled my David Whyte River Flow book of poetry into my lap. I held it in my hands, breathing deeply and just feeling the warmth of the pages between my fingers. I absorbed David's words through my hands and slowly rested upon a poem. Opening my eyes and looking at the pages, I read the words, and then I read them again, as I do with all of his works. This one resonated with me so much that I felt pulled to the keyboard to not only type his words, but then to write from my heart what those sentiments mean to me in the moment.
I am now at the precipice of that revelation, that knowing that my voice cannot be hidden or silenced again. I opened my heart to what I breathed in as the truth for me, the angelic wings of knowingness after a long blackened cocooned lifetime. The revelation of seeing the light once that cocoon was broken open turned my world, and continues to do so, upside down. I am discovering moment by moment that what I had once deemed true, so true that I would have bet my life on it, is not what I thought all along. The revelations keep showing up. They are terrible in the sense that I must learn to fly with my new wings, but first I have to figure out how to pull this new body out of the small hole I managed to make for my emergence.
I am on my own again with less stuff weighing me down. I carry less inhibitions, less expectations, less certainty, and less rigidness. My calm is fluid. I stare as if I have for the first time opened my eyes and seen the world anew. I poke my head out and wonder what's before me. Is there anything to tether me? To silence me? I test my new voice. It echoes in the stillness. A tear meanders down my cheek. I lift myself free from the darkness within, struggling with the tightness of the familiar, but yet yearning for the adventure of the unknown. I look about me, around me, and above me. The colors sustain me. I am clothed in beauty I have just now only grasped. I breathe in the blue, the green, the purple, and do not recognize their scents, but I am willing to step forward and smell the unfamiliar, to take it in with each breath, and awaken to the magic of stepping a foot forward on shaky ground knowing that if my foot slips I will be carried safely by my wings.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
This
SWEET DARKNESS
You must learn one thing.
The world was made to be free in.
You must learn one thing.
The world was made to be free in.
Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
© David Whyte: Excerpted from SWEET DARKNESS
In THE HOUSE OF BELONGING: Many Rivers Press
I am discovering several times over those things that are "too small" for me. I call them course corrections. I am a deliberate and conscious sifter of my own experiences, and I am sifting through those things that don't "sift" well with me. I could write on and on about them, but that just doesn't feel good to me to dwell on what I don't want in my life. Instead, I'm discovering those things that do feel good, and when I see them or experience them they feel better than I could have ever imagined.
One thing is my reconnection with nature. Right now that reconnection is more in my mind and on the computer than being outside as I am not one who loves being frostbitten again.
I found a house built in its natural surroundings in Thailand. It took six weeks and $8,000 to build. It is built in nature and with nature, and I have revisited the website over and over again because it feels good to watch the video where the front door opens and I can see myself walking right through. I can see myself living in that house, coffee brewing in the "kitchen", showering in the bathroom, sitting in the bedroom window, relaxing in the hammock outside, meditating by the pond, wandering through the vegetation, and on and on and on.
I realize how disconnected from the earth I have been especially since leaving Colorado in 2008. I loved hiking in the mountains and walking along the Yampa river. My next stop was Texas where I immersed myself in a concrete jungle, and my earthly connection diminished. The walking I did there was between buildings on paved streets and concrete sidewalks. The summers were too hot to be outside, and my only solace was inside air-conditioned rooms. On the flip side has been the harsh winters I've endured farther northeast where being outside in blizzards has been treacherous and soul-numbing.
I had felt my inner strength grow while planting my garden last year. I loved sticking my hands in the dirt, plopping in seeds, and tapping down dirt. I would sit amongst my crops and read in the mornings with a hot cup of coffee. I watched bees sit on my snap pea blossoms. I read little while gazing at the butterflies lighting on the pole beans. I made myself a home out there with vines growing up the fence, and sunflowers shading me from the sun. I ate my meals of mesclun leaves, snap peas, pole beans, carrots, cherry tomatoes, and green peppers while weeding and thinning. Birds provided me with easy listening, and baby rabbits entertained me immensely.
I remembered the wealth of growing my own food, the experience it provided me of self-sustenance. I was rich in my garden. I had plenty. I had untainted vegetables. I had longed-for sunshine on my shoulders. I had it all.
Now, I'm creating a life of utter fulfillment. I'm going next where the growing season is longer, where I can get my hands in the dirt more often, and where I can be around others who understand that need for earth connection. I am going where sunshine is revered and not admonished with long sleeves, caps, and lathering of sunscreen. The sun is not my enemy. It never has been.
I'm going where I can live with pets, where I can live with those who love animals in their lives. These conditions are important to me. Do I have to have them to be happy? No, but I want animals and growing my own food in my life. These things fill me. I want to be surrounded by people who cherish the same things, who love our Mother, who appreciate the sacred in what She has to offer us.
This brings me alive. Anything less is too small.
except the one to which you belong.
Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn
anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive
is too small for you.
© David Whyte: Excerpted from SWEET DARKNESS
In THE HOUSE OF BELONGING: Many Rivers Press
I am discovering several times over those things that are "too small" for me. I call them course corrections. I am a deliberate and conscious sifter of my own experiences, and I am sifting through those things that don't "sift" well with me. I could write on and on about them, but that just doesn't feel good to me to dwell on what I don't want in my life. Instead, I'm discovering those things that do feel good, and when I see them or experience them they feel better than I could have ever imagined.
One thing is my reconnection with nature. Right now that reconnection is more in my mind and on the computer than being outside as I am not one who loves being frostbitten again.
I found a house built in its natural surroundings in Thailand. It took six weeks and $8,000 to build. It is built in nature and with nature, and I have revisited the website over and over again because it feels good to watch the video where the front door opens and I can see myself walking right through. I can see myself living in that house, coffee brewing in the "kitchen", showering in the bathroom, sitting in the bedroom window, relaxing in the hammock outside, meditating by the pond, wandering through the vegetation, and on and on and on.
I realize how disconnected from the earth I have been especially since leaving Colorado in 2008. I loved hiking in the mountains and walking along the Yampa river. My next stop was Texas where I immersed myself in a concrete jungle, and my earthly connection diminished. The walking I did there was between buildings on paved streets and concrete sidewalks. The summers were too hot to be outside, and my only solace was inside air-conditioned rooms. On the flip side has been the harsh winters I've endured farther northeast where being outside in blizzards has been treacherous and soul-numbing.
I had felt my inner strength grow while planting my garden last year. I loved sticking my hands in the dirt, plopping in seeds, and tapping down dirt. I would sit amongst my crops and read in the mornings with a hot cup of coffee. I watched bees sit on my snap pea blossoms. I read little while gazing at the butterflies lighting on the pole beans. I made myself a home out there with vines growing up the fence, and sunflowers shading me from the sun. I ate my meals of mesclun leaves, snap peas, pole beans, carrots, cherry tomatoes, and green peppers while weeding and thinning. Birds provided me with easy listening, and baby rabbits entertained me immensely.
I remembered the wealth of growing my own food, the experience it provided me of self-sustenance. I was rich in my garden. I had plenty. I had untainted vegetables. I had longed-for sunshine on my shoulders. I had it all.
Now, I'm creating a life of utter fulfillment. I'm going next where the growing season is longer, where I can get my hands in the dirt more often, and where I can be around others who understand that need for earth connection. I am going where sunshine is revered and not admonished with long sleeves, caps, and lathering of sunscreen. The sun is not my enemy. It never has been.
I'm going where I can live with pets, where I can live with those who love animals in their lives. These conditions are important to me. Do I have to have them to be happy? No, but I want animals and growing my own food in my life. These things fill me. I want to be surrounded by people who cherish the same things, who love our Mother, who appreciate the sacred in what She has to offer us.
This brings me alive. Anything less is too small.
Tuesday, February 11, 2014
just beautiful
Today I've cried. Buckets.
I can't even remember the last time I've done that. Maybe when I arrived in Steamboat Springs, CO in September of 2006 after leaving a man I had been in a relationship with for 32 years. For the first time since I was 18 years old he was no longer in my life, or so I thought. Last September he came back in with his wonderful, beautiful wife who I just love dearly. I've been learning that sometimes goodbyes really mean see ya later. I didn't think there would ever be a need to see him again until he was the only one who I wanted to be there with me. It was our daughter who brought us together again, and this time he brought his Leslie with him, and our family grew by one. Now I remember the time more recently when the tears flowed so freely, and it was the moment I saw his car pull into the driveway, and he came out to talk with me. I held him and we both cried buckets. His wife joined us. There is something so powerful in the act of letting love guide. I saw love operate amongst us like a soft, kind blowtorch. It cemented a bond that has deep roots and loving kindness.
And today I am remembering that sadness, that overwhelming feeling of helplessness turn into a sweet surrender knowing that there is nothing I need do right now at this very moment but just sit in the feelings that I'm feeling and know I'm okay and so is my world.
Last night my friend and I took my daughter to the train station so she could begin the next leg of her journey. I know some of my tears have a lot to do with seeing her off and having me still be in a state I've been wanting out of for a long time. I am sitting with that feeling right now and breathing through it as I "see" another place for myself with beautiful beings that are truly my brothers and sisters. While I look out the window right now and see the massive quantities of snow, I see in my mind's eye that raised-bed garden where I pick vegetables and herbs for the evening meal shared with my soul family. I see the dresses I make for the goddesses that enter my life and dance in their garments in the moonlight. I see the smiles on faces sitting around the kitchen table, spreading butter on the homemade bread and mingling effortlessly in the communal language. I see that all so clearly, and my tears dry up. I look outside at the vegetation and see growth and abundance. I look inside my heart and feel its expansion, and know that I am loved deeply.
And I breathe. And with that, I know that everything is just beautiful.
I can't even remember the last time I've done that. Maybe when I arrived in Steamboat Springs, CO in September of 2006 after leaving a man I had been in a relationship with for 32 years. For the first time since I was 18 years old he was no longer in my life, or so I thought. Last September he came back in with his wonderful, beautiful wife who I just love dearly. I've been learning that sometimes goodbyes really mean see ya later. I didn't think there would ever be a need to see him again until he was the only one who I wanted to be there with me. It was our daughter who brought us together again, and this time he brought his Leslie with him, and our family grew by one. Now I remember the time more recently when the tears flowed so freely, and it was the moment I saw his car pull into the driveway, and he came out to talk with me. I held him and we both cried buckets. His wife joined us. There is something so powerful in the act of letting love guide. I saw love operate amongst us like a soft, kind blowtorch. It cemented a bond that has deep roots and loving kindness.
And today I am remembering that sadness, that overwhelming feeling of helplessness turn into a sweet surrender knowing that there is nothing I need do right now at this very moment but just sit in the feelings that I'm feeling and know I'm okay and so is my world.
Last night my friend and I took my daughter to the train station so she could begin the next leg of her journey. I know some of my tears have a lot to do with seeing her off and having me still be in a state I've been wanting out of for a long time. I am sitting with that feeling right now and breathing through it as I "see" another place for myself with beautiful beings that are truly my brothers and sisters. While I look out the window right now and see the massive quantities of snow, I see in my mind's eye that raised-bed garden where I pick vegetables and herbs for the evening meal shared with my soul family. I see the dresses I make for the goddesses that enter my life and dance in their garments in the moonlight. I see the smiles on faces sitting around the kitchen table, spreading butter on the homemade bread and mingling effortlessly in the communal language. I see that all so clearly, and my tears dry up. I look outside at the vegetation and see growth and abundance. I look inside my heart and feel its expansion, and know that I am loved deeply.
And I breathe. And with that, I know that everything is just beautiful.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
let it be
Sitting on the couch this morning with the fire roaring and the dog snoring, checking my Facebook page when the following video just "popped up". (I really don't know how things show up in my life, but internet seems to put things in my face like nothing else, and this is a prime example.)
magical video watching
This crazy life I reside in has been a roller coaster ride of the scariest, the most thrilling, and the greatest growing. Sometimes though I just hold my hands up, look at the ceiling, and scream upwards: "Beam me up, Scotty!"
I know there have been people who have thought committing me in some kind of mental facility would serve their purposes well, but the crazy that lingers in my thoughts is not one of the unhealthy mental diagnosis. Instead it's one of much self-reflection, one that steers me down winding and hilly paths that twists and turn by the seconds. Right when I think I have a handle on some direction in my life, poof! there goes that avenue.
So, here I sit clueless as a vagabond, no baggage, light as air, free to leap, and wondering at the moment in which direction. When I've left one place for another, I had always had that "other" place in which to go. This time is different. I thought I had a place. I could still make that my place, but I don't want to. Whatever made me think that I wanted to live in a ski resort community AGAIN? I don't ski. I am not fond of shoveling feet of snow, skidding on ice, feeling "squished" in the valley surrounded by mountains. I'm a wide-open girl. I like space around me to stretch out and sometimes to be alone, but sometimes not.
Back in 2008 I left a mountain resort town after just meeting someone that I had a relationship with. He begged me not to go. I insisted. I had to. I was on my next mission. I had my plan mapped out perfectly. I was on a time schedule. yada yada yada...
Not only did he "let" me go, but he helped pack up my studio carrying boxes down a steep flight of stairs, not once, not one time saying a harsh word, being angry, or even sad. He told me that he would do whatever he could for me because he knew this is what I was determined to do. His only request was to call him on my 1000-mile U-Haul truck driving trip through the mountains before heading south. He just wanted to know that I was okay and was making my way to my destination safely.
Every day since then I have discovered in many ways through many relationships just how brilliantly his actions have shown me genuine non-attached love. I've traveled thousands of miles since I last saw him. I have forged, developed, and ended several relationships, but his feelings for me have been a recent reminder to me that his ability to "let" me go and experience the world without him has been one of the truest forms of kindness I've ever witnessed.
How do I trust my own heart after I feel it has lead me to relationships that I just KNEW were the right ones for me, and they each became ones that needed to end, sometimes rather quickly. Follow my heart? It has lead me down some pretty tough dark alleys lately, but each time I've come through a bit shinier and wiser. That much I'm sure of. So, am I wise enough now to choose what shows up in my life that comes so easily, so effortlessly, so truly? Is it okay for me to know that he still loves me and just be with that, maybe even love him back?
I do feel love for him. I always have. He has shown up in my life over and over again at the most amazing moments. I don't take that lightly. We've had extraordinary experiences together whether we were together physically or not. And now I'm on another road looking west, watching it unfold, feeling into it, wondering just how unattached I can be with it. Maybe this time I can lead with my heart fully without getting my hopes up, without setting my mind on what it looks like, and just allowing it to be whatever it is. Maybe then we can see what happens with our love for each other.
magical video watching
This crazy life I reside in has been a roller coaster ride of the scariest, the most thrilling, and the greatest growing. Sometimes though I just hold my hands up, look at the ceiling, and scream upwards: "Beam me up, Scotty!"
I know there have been people who have thought committing me in some kind of mental facility would serve their purposes well, but the crazy that lingers in my thoughts is not one of the unhealthy mental diagnosis. Instead it's one of much self-reflection, one that steers me down winding and hilly paths that twists and turn by the seconds. Right when I think I have a handle on some direction in my life, poof! there goes that avenue.
So, here I sit clueless as a vagabond, no baggage, light as air, free to leap, and wondering at the moment in which direction. When I've left one place for another, I had always had that "other" place in which to go. This time is different. I thought I had a place. I could still make that my place, but I don't want to. Whatever made me think that I wanted to live in a ski resort community AGAIN? I don't ski. I am not fond of shoveling feet of snow, skidding on ice, feeling "squished" in the valley surrounded by mountains. I'm a wide-open girl. I like space around me to stretch out and sometimes to be alone, but sometimes not.
Back in 2008 I left a mountain resort town after just meeting someone that I had a relationship with. He begged me not to go. I insisted. I had to. I was on my next mission. I had my plan mapped out perfectly. I was on a time schedule. yada yada yada...
Not only did he "let" me go, but he helped pack up my studio carrying boxes down a steep flight of stairs, not once, not one time saying a harsh word, being angry, or even sad. He told me that he would do whatever he could for me because he knew this is what I was determined to do. His only request was to call him on my 1000-mile U-Haul truck driving trip through the mountains before heading south. He just wanted to know that I was okay and was making my way to my destination safely.
Every day since then I have discovered in many ways through many relationships just how brilliantly his actions have shown me genuine non-attached love. I've traveled thousands of miles since I last saw him. I have forged, developed, and ended several relationships, but his feelings for me have been a recent reminder to me that his ability to "let" me go and experience the world without him has been one of the truest forms of kindness I've ever witnessed.
How do I trust my own heart after I feel it has lead me to relationships that I just KNEW were the right ones for me, and they each became ones that needed to end, sometimes rather quickly. Follow my heart? It has lead me down some pretty tough dark alleys lately, but each time I've come through a bit shinier and wiser. That much I'm sure of. So, am I wise enough now to choose what shows up in my life that comes so easily, so effortlessly, so truly? Is it okay for me to know that he still loves me and just be with that, maybe even love him back?
I do feel love for him. I always have. He has shown up in my life over and over again at the most amazing moments. I don't take that lightly. We've had extraordinary experiences together whether we were together physically or not. And now I'm on another road looking west, watching it unfold, feeling into it, wondering just how unattached I can be with it. Maybe this time I can lead with my heart fully without getting my hopes up, without setting my mind on what it looks like, and just allowing it to be whatever it is. Maybe then we can see what happens with our love for each other.
Monday, January 27, 2014
seeking
I just wrote a long paragraph that got erased. I thought I was being honest and pouring my heart out, but apparently the "powers that be" assume otherwise, because in the tech world my words just went "poof"! So, I'm going to try again, and this time I'm going to be transparent.
Here goes.
I am living a life like I never have before. I don't know what's five minutes ahead of me. I have certainly made plans, and all of them have fallen apart. I am learning that I need to stop trying to figure it out. I am getting messages from people I've never met in person, others that I haven't been in contact with in years, and others that I've recently communicated with long distance, and every single one of these people offer a piece of this crazy puzzle I've been trying to put together without having a picture to work from.
First of all the people that have come into my life. What can I say? I am totally blown away by their love and generosity. This month in particular has been the biggest show of love I've ever experienced. These amazing beings are coming to me with such grace and sweetness. My needs are being met over and over in ways that I couldn't have possibly figured out if I'd tried.
I have this vision that has not only changed since the first time conceiving of it last month, but has also gotten clearer and clearer. At first I saw a healing center of great magnitude in the mountains near Aspen. I couldn't ever see it very clearly, and my feelings about it were distant. I just knew that was where I wanted to land. It has been home for me most of my life, and I thought that was where I needed to be finally. Is it still? I shake my head in wonder. I truly don't have any answers about that right now.
However, what I do hold as a very clear vision is something that came to me the other night. It was so vivid and so charged with emblazoned passion on my heart that I couldn't sleep. It was a remembrance of a vision I had seen back in 2004, and something I've put some energy into but not nearly as much as I'd like. Years ago I saw this retail store that I ran called Great Expectations. The items in the store were repurposed and painted chakra colors. Each item had words painted or sewn into them that had the vibrations set for just the right person. There were dresses with words sewn down the front or at the hemline or on the sleeves. A wooden garden bench was painted purple with green ivy leaves running down its legs and "Peace resides here." painted on the back. Every single item in the store was made intentionally for a specific vibrational resonance. People would walk in the store not even knowing they were looking for anything, and be drawn to a particular garment or household item. They'd sit on a couch, hold a pillow, wrap a scarf around their necks, or just lay their hands on a table scrolled with the word "love".
Almost a decade later I saw this vision again very, very clearly, but this time there were differences. One half of the store had a coffee shop with repurposed tables and chairs and some of the retail items. The other half of the store had tables for classes so people could learn how to do their own intentional creativity and a space for healing circles, poetry readings, acoustic guitar playing, tarot card readings, channelings, etc. Down a hallway were treatment rooms for healers -- sound therapy, energy work, shamanic journeys. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I've been working on making new pieces of fabric art with words in them and embedding in each piece the vibration of unconditional love. The times right now are shaky at best, and I'm experiencing a lot of people in the throes of turmoil because their worlds are falling apart, at least that's the way it seems to them. I'm making things that people can wear or see or hold onto that remind them that not only are they loved, but that they are love.
I can see how important a place like this is. I know my part in it. I just don't know who's a part of it with me or where the first one is going to be. So, I'm putting it out there, people. Those of you who want to join my tribe (or are already members of my tribe) and be a part of this new dream, let me know. A place in northern CA has been suggested to me, and I would love to make that happen. The people that I have grown close to out there have my heart. I know there will be a healing center there eventually, but I'm not sure it's to be the first one.
There's a saying that goes like this: "That which you are seeking, is seeking you." I think Rumi said that, but I'm not sure. In any case, I'm putting it out there that if you are seeking what I am, please let me know. I really am swimming in the unknown here, and I can feel things coming together. And I also feel that when they do come together they are going to do so in lightning speed.
Here goes.
I am living a life like I never have before. I don't know what's five minutes ahead of me. I have certainly made plans, and all of them have fallen apart. I am learning that I need to stop trying to figure it out. I am getting messages from people I've never met in person, others that I haven't been in contact with in years, and others that I've recently communicated with long distance, and every single one of these people offer a piece of this crazy puzzle I've been trying to put together without having a picture to work from.
First of all the people that have come into my life. What can I say? I am totally blown away by their love and generosity. This month in particular has been the biggest show of love I've ever experienced. These amazing beings are coming to me with such grace and sweetness. My needs are being met over and over in ways that I couldn't have possibly figured out if I'd tried.
I have this vision that has not only changed since the first time conceiving of it last month, but has also gotten clearer and clearer. At first I saw a healing center of great magnitude in the mountains near Aspen. I couldn't ever see it very clearly, and my feelings about it were distant. I just knew that was where I wanted to land. It has been home for me most of my life, and I thought that was where I needed to be finally. Is it still? I shake my head in wonder. I truly don't have any answers about that right now.
However, what I do hold as a very clear vision is something that came to me the other night. It was so vivid and so charged with emblazoned passion on my heart that I couldn't sleep. It was a remembrance of a vision I had seen back in 2004, and something I've put some energy into but not nearly as much as I'd like. Years ago I saw this retail store that I ran called Great Expectations. The items in the store were repurposed and painted chakra colors. Each item had words painted or sewn into them that had the vibrations set for just the right person. There were dresses with words sewn down the front or at the hemline or on the sleeves. A wooden garden bench was painted purple with green ivy leaves running down its legs and "Peace resides here." painted on the back. Every single item in the store was made intentionally for a specific vibrational resonance. People would walk in the store not even knowing they were looking for anything, and be drawn to a particular garment or household item. They'd sit on a couch, hold a pillow, wrap a scarf around their necks, or just lay their hands on a table scrolled with the word "love".
Almost a decade later I saw this vision again very, very clearly, but this time there were differences. One half of the store had a coffee shop with repurposed tables and chairs and some of the retail items. The other half of the store had tables for classes so people could learn how to do their own intentional creativity and a space for healing circles, poetry readings, acoustic guitar playing, tarot card readings, channelings, etc. Down a hallway were treatment rooms for healers -- sound therapy, energy work, shamanic journeys. I haven't been able to stop thinking about it. I've been working on making new pieces of fabric art with words in them and embedding in each piece the vibration of unconditional love. The times right now are shaky at best, and I'm experiencing a lot of people in the throes of turmoil because their worlds are falling apart, at least that's the way it seems to them. I'm making things that people can wear or see or hold onto that remind them that not only are they loved, but that they are love.
I can see how important a place like this is. I know my part in it. I just don't know who's a part of it with me or where the first one is going to be. So, I'm putting it out there, people. Those of you who want to join my tribe (or are already members of my tribe) and be a part of this new dream, let me know. A place in northern CA has been suggested to me, and I would love to make that happen. The people that I have grown close to out there have my heart. I know there will be a healing center there eventually, but I'm not sure it's to be the first one.
There's a saying that goes like this: "That which you are seeking, is seeking you." I think Rumi said that, but I'm not sure. In any case, I'm putting it out there that if you are seeking what I am, please let me know. I really am swimming in the unknown here, and I can feel things coming together. And I also feel that when they do come together they are going to do so in lightning speed.
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