Emotional Bank accounts

This morning I lay awake and wondered how it was that I survived all these years with my secrets stuffed deep inside me. Years of crushing heartaches, fear and low self esteem kept me afraid to face the secrets. Secrets have a way of rising to the surface under the moonlight! How could I possibly have made a deal with my unconscious to hide them from me?  What kind of conversation was that?  It must have gone something very covert.
Ann- "Ugh, I don't ever want to think and feel like that again!"
Unconscious Mind- "We can arrange that! It is quite simple really.  I will protect you from that and you can go on with your life without ever having to relive that."  After the deal was made that seven year old little girl went on her merry way. Never looking back, never having to feel those painful memories again. 
Time went on, fear resurfaced in another costume, trust was fleeting, I wanted it so badly I projected it onto people in my life that truly didn't have the capacity to be trusted.  How very vulnerable, how very human of me.
What would I have done if in fact I had slowed down long enough to listen and screen those in my life.  Looking for the genuine trust and trust ability, I could have screened them much like a job candidate has references checked, a loan application, loaning my heart to an applicant.  I never did a background soul check.
Left without the means to recover from those emotional mishaps and heart breaks, bankrupt once again in the emotional and spiritual savings account.  There was no guaranty to recover my lost investment.  These were not losses that were deductions on my taxed soul.
Knowing that this was a long term loss and one that no one could replace for me.  There was no bail out for my soul and my life. This was just that literal loss of joy.
Now looking back I have regained my investment by investing in myself, my mind, my body, my heart and my awareness of me.  Surely I couldn't have recovered it in its original form. Now my soul's fiscal recovery act has been in the recent years of action. Undoing the devastation of a soul's heart of fiscal irresponsibility.
Do something for thirty days and it becomes a habit, do something for thirty years and it becomes a lifestyle.  Right or wrong, it is still the past and it is still mine.  I won't throw it out with the bath water. There is a lesson in it that catches my thoughts often. Remembering is the pill to change what was bitter and painful.

Finding My Muses

I woke this morning with this topic fresh in mind.  Who and what is my muse? I didn't really think about it much before now, so this is an unusual place for me. An honest and raw place that I feel compelled to go. Taking a big deep breath to launch my truths.

Where do I really get the inspirations for these blogs and any of my other writings? At first easily answered in saying that my muse is my pain.  The pain and sadness and frustration that surfaced during my journey. Being alone in facing my demons and having to listen to my heart while the Universe sets out a vibrational signal of code for me to follow.  That code is the communication of my guides, holding up a cosmic mirror to reflect the inner truths and rawness of my humanity.  The vibrational code much like the tones from the aliens that came to visit in the movie "Close Encounters of the Third Kind" with Richard Dreyfus. In that movie he struggles to make sense of the tonal melody that resonates in his being, until that fateful day that he is actually face to face with proof of higher intelligence and his own purpose of existence. 

Yes, I am feeling that vibration constantly. Trying to understand the song of my soul and the message in the ether's from the Universe to help me evolve or dissolve!  The message comes to me in pieces. Sometimes in my slumbers and sometimes in a flash, a moment, in the car, in the shower or in a discussion with a trusted friend. Not always the complete symphony or the short snappy tune I wish it would be.
Thus my painful, lamentings and writings come in pieces. I feel that the pain in my writing is too long, too often and over-rated. The drive of securing the emotion and letting it dwell within me with conscious intention is the reason for the writing. Avoidance of the raw is not acceptable in the growth process.  To become refined, the element must feel the heat of the refiners fire and hammer to evolve. Those are the strikes of pain and challenge for me. The heat ever increasing to take the misleading imperfections from my perceptions of my reality up to this point in my life. It was Sue Frederick that told me "Pain is fuel" and using it to bring the divine self into reality is our job. The pain is like jet fuel on some days driving me through lightening speed evolution, while other days the fuel is slow and dull as regular gas in a lawn mower plodding along in drudgery and duty. This pain is still pain, whether jet fuel or daily fuel that keeps me going and feeling alive, changing and working through my existence.

Then out of the blue, I am hit with a symphony of joy and knowing, a relief from the pressures of my pains, with a shot of joy.  That shot of joy makes it all worthwhile, all so do-able. When a smile is not enough, but only joyful tears are enough to do my soul justice.  Shaking, joy, bliss on a cellular level each rampant strand of energy shooting through my heart is more than electric. Sometimes it comes at the sight of the stunning Pacific Northwest mountains, sometimes seeing a full moon through the tall noble firs at night.  Then others it comes from  somewhere within me and within my soul that was always there and I had not allowed it to surface to my consciousness. Keeping it repressed, kind of like a root cellar waiting for me to slow down and throw open the doors to allow the light into my soul and consciousness. Breathing air and light into the darkness of my soul and into my awareness. Seeing the dust release from my heart and mind, as it sprinkles around and in between the rays of sunlight and moonlight.

As if passion were a pill one could take, I would have a complete prescription for a daily dose. Regulated by my society and tempered by the food and drug administration. But alas, I do not have the dosage right by society's standards. "Too passionate" was the feedback I got from a past job interview. I laugh at it now thinking back, how unbridled I was when I spoke from my heart and yet those in the midst of it most couldn't handle my passion. The volume was too loud, too high and too real. It is funny now to see how I tempered it to fit, to be salable to those around me. I used the passion of my journey to evolve within an industry that was in no way ready for the divine passion I have been designed to fulfill.  I know now ,that my light is more than some can handle. I know stepping into my truth, that I am designed specifically to be the strong passionate creature of my own evolution. No bars, no template to keep me in. Whether it be pain or joy or fury of passion, it is just as it should be. Inspiring myself, my soul, my consciousness to stand tall in its place and bringing my awareness into the front of the world. Free at last to radiate the purpose of  what my heart longs to be. That unbridled creature by design with complete power and love. Showing myself the deepest forgiveness and compassion, I have wrapped my arms around the pieces of me that were fractured, weak and sore. I am now seeing the complete vision of who I am to be.  I hear the symphony from my heart. Capable of dancing for the first time in my lifetime to the song of my soul and with joyful tears in my eyes and a heart bursting with passion that I can't describe.
Now the muse is within me rather without. I no longer have to wait for it to come to the surface. I am now rewritten to have a shortcut to my muses.

For Humanity's sake!

What just happened to me doesn't reflect the depth of the impact on the soul.  For what I am feeling and knowing and remembering, I am still not, breathing into my own experience of the moment called "NOW"! 
How can I create that tether to bring myself back into the moment of now and to consciously work on the wounds of who I am and how I should take the next step forward?  Sitting quietly is not enough.  Listening to the air swim by to the accompaniment of my "yes, but..." and wondering how do I hear more deeply, feel more deeply and to process the inner formula of the change that is washing over me.
My wonderment is powerful and fragile. Keeping in line with the inner child. My soul longs for the presence of knowing, yet is unable to recognize the knowing in now.
Afraid of the shame, the self judgment and most importantly the value of the self in society's eyes.
What I have done up till now does not define me and my reality anymore. It is the reality of constructing in the moment that allows me to breathe into my soul.  Taking long breaths and sitting still for a moment before my consciousness takes over the wheel of my mind and its forthought.

Where is that porch swing in my mind to sit and ponder?  Back and forth and back and forth bringing rhythm to my consciousness lulling me into the trance that allows for my breathe to slow down, my thoughts to loosen up and bring a state of stillness.  Stillness in my souls inner closet. Counting toes and fingers from the battle and bringing inventory of things let go and lost. Also celebrating the victories and gains and scars. Getting to the present inventory gives a sense of relief and pride.
Another deep breath brings a widened eye, to a wider scope to the scope of my view.  Seeing behind and seeing forward has clearer acuity for me now. In this moment and with this thought and that feeling I am able to know , I am just where I should be I am exactly as I designed it to be in this moment and in this place and in this lifetime.  Feeling and reeling from the real me.
I am done shedding and am not ready to grow into the new me, the new size, the new color and especially the new life of an aware sould, waking to the now. 

Sometimes the sadness for those left behind, confused in their reality brings a furrowed brow to my face.  It is for me to know the purpose of that role has passed and given me a place of reflection and a gift of recognition to my soul's view of the me and the reality for the place we all must arrive at is here.

What if...? what if I don't want to?  What if I don't like it when I get there? What if it doesn't fit and has no resonating similarity for my soul?  In a matter of speaking it is just what I must do.  Taking the first step and knowing that out of my specifically designed plan, I must have that next step. Nothing can stop me from taking the next step in the path.  The momentum has already started and I am hard wired to follow through.

Owning it, naming it and dealing with it!

I was that good girl. The one who was told to be grateful for what I got.  I was supposed to take it, smile and play nice.  I wanted grape, instead I got lemon.  It isn't good enough. I wasn't truly happy. I felt slighted and cheated to my true self. A big sigh of frustration escaped my mouth. It was better than nothing.  Semi-satisfied in the life of what was drawn out for me. Measured, how other people saw fit to their paradigm of what should be.
That was how it spelled out in each marriage, in each relationship and in each business interaction.  Do the right(aka nice) thing. Being acceptable to the present perspective of how a woman should act, behave and believe. I had no clue in how to ask for more. I had no idea that there was a voice that I could use out loud and not just in my head. Did other species like me actually get what they wanted? Did they speak up and get the very things their hearts desired?  Weren't they label and shunned. Did they shame their parents and family for stepping out of the nice and tidy box of femininity? Dishonor's threat always looming in the consciousness. Lurking and shaming us.  What a tremendous amount of power we were trained to yield up and give away. My own power and divine right, handed over unconsciously.

Being feminine in a world that longs for healing, nurturing and touch. Being able to give compassion and empathy with abandon.  That is a power in itself. Where is the rule that says women shouldn't be powerful?  The better question is "Why"?  The answer is "because they said so" or they truly didn't know the answer to my long held questions. "That's they way it has always been" and "that's the way it should be." Fear of not knowing. How dare we question their wisdom and place in society. We might see they did not have the power rightfully. We might actually see that the wizard is actually hiding behind the curtain, actually just a man or creature equal to our own. Being drawn out and finding ourselves in a place of lacking or not enough means weakness and fragility.  Of course it is easier to pretend than to allow for each of us to be co-creators and inhabitants in this realm.

Power is masculine. Power is not attractive in a woman. Power is manipulative when it is in a woman. Power is authority. Being powerful is prideful and pride is a sin. Powerful women are witches. Powerful women are not pure. Powerful woman are selfish. Being powerful is selfish and only men are allowed to be selfish. From the place of a child's curiosity of making sense of the world and  my place in it.  How do I fit into a background of conformity? How do I remain complete and whole in the face of shame for the divine gifts we are all given.
What happened to the healing rights in femininity? When one has the magic, light and the power to touch a soul and heal on a cellular level, it is of a divine design.  Where did the fear of femininity come from?  What wounded souls took it upon themselves to deny the rest of mankind the power of balance and femininity? The wizard decided to step behind the curtain of falseness.  To upset the balance of power and equality. How sad could the Universe have been when humanity did this to an entire species. Stoicism is not conducive to the design of humankind.  Being tough is a function of our species, man and woman. It is not a lifestyle, despite what some people might believe today.
Fairly given to each soul. Empowered to the highest good.   Like elastic, power can surge and stretch. It is good for the soul to stretch the power and experience it in all its glory in the moments that this lifetime requires.  Operating without this power leaves our circuitry dampened and unable to clean and regenerate.
There is beauty in being fragile, there is strength in being fragile.  Imagining how it would feel to be strongly fragile or to have fragile strength. It is just the journey and not the destination.  Wondering what it would have been like to have been born a male into this lifetime.  Thinking that I might not have had the same chances, experiences but knowing my soul would feel the same about this imbalance of power.  Would I embrace my feminine side and celebrate my balance and love it and nurture it? That is the thing most heterosexual men fear. The fear of feminine power and love. That femininity is somehow demonized by our religion and culture and society.

Once you smell burnt popcorn the memory of it stays with you forever. Just as the feeling of injustice in power. Laughing out loud at myself. This is was the superhero dreams I had in my youth. My fascination with Wonder Woman, her strength, power and gifts to help humanity. Knowing that we are the justice league taking on the out of balance this species has disproportionally imposed on countless souls and generations. I need justice for the demonization of femininity and how it has impacted my identity and self esteem. It will be mine own, that justice that only I can serve. The justice that only I can take back, love and embrace! There is room in me for all that I am feminine, powerful and strong. It is great to be whole and balanced. Balancing and breathing.