Re-do considerations!

There is something intrinsically reminiscent about fall.  I can sit or stand for great lengths of time viewing the leaves changing and feel the temperature of the world shift slowly from the summer heat to a sunny cool fall.  Obtaining a gazed expression while climbing deep into my memory I begin the journey. What is it that was good about this past summer and spring?  I realized there was a great deal of drama and crisis to reflect upon. Graduation, weddings, birthdays, apologies and appreciation given.

The mind races through the memories as if they were sound bites of a few mere seconds with snap shots and emotions wired into each of them.  I felt I hadn't been present enough in those moments. I hadn't given myself more time to sit and relax and relish the souls of those I was around.  I spent so much energy being minutes and days ahead of where I should have been. I often stayed in the future worrying so much I forgot the event and left the unspeakable burden of collecting memories to my unconscious mind.

I missed remembering hugging my son, complimenting my daughters and sincerely just being present in their presence. I forgot how hard I laughed and only remembered how hard I cried.  I spent so much time worrying that I often didn't plan to breathe in life and went into auto pilot burdening my unconscious mind to make sure I was still supporting my physical body's needs.  I was lost in the worry and the thoughts that robbed me of the joy and tenderness I so craved and dreamt of coming in the someday scenarios of "when"!

I want a summer redo! I want a "Do over!" to make things better, to regain my moments, to relish the fragile parts of my life and to admire the moments of super hero strength!  I want  to go back and make sure I actively archive my moments from the summer. Archive them in complete surreal Technicolor and smell-a-vision! I want a redo for the big moments and small moments. I want to redo and save the tokens of affection from my loved ones, from the birthdays and other events that marked time and space for this journey called my life! I want to find the goodie bag with the talismans of wisdom from the quiet moments, sad moments and the happy moments!

I am stepping into today with a stronger sense of self, a greater desire than I have ever had before. I am taking this moment and the coming moments to be more present. I am now, I am the beholder, I am co-creating my reality with my love not my worry or fears! Yes there are second chances at tomorrow but not yesterday. I am taking the chance again each day to be more present and aware and grateful and loving!

The Oracle Inside: Listening to what our soul is saying!

A new morning and I sat waiting for the doctor to come into the examination room. I sat for more than forty minutes waiting, just so he can go over the pre-op details for tomorrow's procedure.  I read text messages and read a few articles in the magazines next to me.  What I didn't due was tell myself this waiting is crazy!  I felt like my time was not being valued. I had a strong indication that I was feeling more irritated as the moments passed by.  I wanted to get up and walk out but knew I couldn't get the procedure done without it.  What more to add to this journey of being a woman in menopause.  Two periods a month was not comfortable. Constantly feeling tired or run down and subject to the pull of the lunar cycle kept me sitting.

I realized I was ready to take my health back into my own hands a while back.  I have more recently decided that we give our western medical industry too much power over our bodies.  We wait for a pill to change our moods, to alleviate our pains and make us forget that our bodies are in need of change and nurturing.  We think that doctors know more about our bodies than we do. What if we sit and listen to our souls, feel their quiet small voice and know that we are alive inside, operating our bodies to fulfill our destinies. There is an inner oracle that is with us every moment and is able to do great things, miracles and even magic!

Once a long time ago, we were able to communicate with our own oracle as a child in simpler times.  Knowing we have a captain to our life, knowing we were more than flesh and bone was an intrinsic part of our young knowledge.  Part of this knowledge also gave us insight into every living creature.  Simple understanding and clarity from a young human. Isn't it remarkable that as young children we can see things so easily and not judge ourselves for not being "enough"?  The idea of being enough is later implanted into our awareness when we gain the skill of comparison. Somehow taught in a scientific way in school or at home. Sameness and differentness becomes our first lens as we are socialized. It is that sameness or differentness that we measure the rest of our lives, our actions, our thoughts, our bodies and our emotions. That is the origin of losing our ability to hear our own inner voice and oracle.  Instead of listening to our own inner oracle we listen to our inner critic and give our power away to an event or an outside source.
Traveling through the years I can recall moments when I participated with a collective hoping to gain great blessings and joys.  Blessings and joy did cross my path and also with it, I stopped listening to my inner oracle, trusting the outside world for my validation and joy.  Giving the power to recognize and measure myself by others.
Reawakening to the gifts and blessings I have had all along has been a scary experience due to the programming.  This reawakening has given me more strength to keep trying harder and harder with each new scary moment.

The Next Big Trick: Letting Go!

Here it is the eve of Labor day and the onset of the upcoming school year. Summer is ending tonight and I am sitting in this season of deep reflection.There isn't any one emotion I haven't already run through in my mind and in my heart.

Happy, that my ten year old returns to school to further challenge his intellect. It has been a lonely summer for him without a vacation.  So a vacation without a vacation is a "stay-cation" and a prison term for a ten year old boy.
Yes, there were a few events to look forward to this summer.  Events such as numerous family birthdays and movies and BBQs with friends.  Sadly they were all at home and with very few little kids his age.  As his Mom I fought the urge to let him wile away the hours playing video games or watching television till an hour melted into four hours upon my return from work.  His older sisters were all too happy to let him melt into the "boob-tube" to keep him from being that ever annoying little brother with countless memorized knock-knock jokes and asking questions he already know the answers for.  We have watched movies together and tried to maintain some sense of politeness when he becomes "Captain Obvious" announcing every written word or stating the obvious in each and every scene change.   There isn't much I can do to protect each and every nerve left by the end of the summer from his annoying boy like habits of picking his nose, grabbing his penis when he is nervous or twirling his already short hair.

It has been a seriously challenging summer for all of us, not just the infamous irritating ten year old boy. I spent the end of June telling and retelling myself that I could actually "do this" private practice and writing thing.  There were so many times people would question me as to why I was insistent about leaving teaching in deaf education.  I was burnt out and stunned by the shrinking pay,  respect and support each of us teachers had endured over the past fifteen years.  I knew I had a superstar inside me my whole life and that some magic needed to come out and it wasn't going to be in the walls of a special education classroom.  Sadly my love for the students and the deep seeded compassion for their life has left me melancholy about not being able to be with them in their school year to celebrate their accomplishments or see their souls emerge each year a bit more valiant and revealed in their own personal journeys.

I gladly welcomed home my middle daughter from her first year away from home at college.  Dorm life was a challenge for her coming from a family such as ours. She struggled from being away from home and yet struggled with being a part of a new community.  She realized how much she was loved and missed by her boyfriend and her family at the end of the school year.  She also realized how much she appreciated home and her family, even if they were nutty most of the time.  I also watch her get her first job and feel the mantle of her choices in adulthood when she was tired and didn't want to go to work after already completing a long shift the day before.  I relished the idea that her feet and lower back ached when she finished her first few days working as a hostess in the local IHOP.  I appreciated her joy when she got her first paycheck for all of her hard work, and yet was told she could pay me back all of the IOUs on her next few paychecks.  Her facial expression was priceless at that moment frozen in my memory forever.  Smart, beautiful, full of integrity and authentic transparency.

I watched my youngest daughter graduate from high school with her freshman year of college already under her belt. I watch and cried as I realized how proud I was to see her feminine power and her authentic identity shine.  I realized how truly powerful she was in her own beauty and in her own skin.  Unapologetic in her world and generation for what she wanted or what she didn't know she wanted as she walked across the graduation stage to participate in the last rite of her public education.  I believe she is such a powerful not to be reckoned with that she can barely see the magnitude of her own spirit and intelligence.  I see in her so many beautiful and powerful things that she will take the world by ear in the next few years.

I sat on the couch across from my ex husband and received the first ever, deeply authentic remorseful apology I had ever encountered in my life.  It was as if he had now been relieved of his mantle to his girls and had realized how harshly he had judged my road and our trials with the impact of his choices.  I had relived all the sadness, joys and trials on that couch in a thirty minute time span that evening after our youngest daughter's graduation. That was so deeply healing and such great closure.

This summer I watched as my oldest daughter get married.  I cried at the misogyny of the event and at the beautiful young woman she had evolved into.  I worried and cried over her keeping her voice and not loosing her passion to be an independent woman in this world.  I was horrified to see how people had judged me and our family at her wedding because we had no longer belonged to the same church as her in-laws.  It all felt like such a head spinning nightmare for me to be reminded of how it felt to be once again "not good enough" after I had worked for the past eight years to undo that terrible inner script and feel powerful and more than enough. It was terrifying to see how easily the shoe slid back on and I had to remember that it was a bad shoe to wear and that it would never allow me to stand in my own power.

The day after the wedding was the hardest of the year.  I drove home alone with an empty car from the wedding in Sacramento California back to Seattle, Washington on my 50th birthday.  I was angry, hurt, sad and confused at life. I cried for what felt like the entire eleven hours straight.  Actually I sincerely believe that I had been crying for the past days, including the days prior to the wedding.  This all seemed so empty, so deeply wrong. Why turn fifty and have lost sight of my joy or perhaps felt I never had any joy, or even worse that I didn't recognize my joy?  I had to maintain my poker face upon my return home to the kids. I was greatly relieved to see all had survived without my supervision and had done a great job at keeping the house in order and their brother out of the dog house.   There was comfort in my typical chaos of home. There was a place a familiar disdain as I crossed into the city boundaries.  I knew even if it wasn't perfect it was familiar. Familiarity is a great fishing spot.  My dear friend, Teri, would always remind me that fishing is good in a predictable place, she would say "Go where the fishing is easy!".  There isn't an easy way to break free. This is the terror barrier that AmyJo Goddard speaks of in her work SPECTRA. Familiarity breeds discontent.

I realized how patriarchal my life had been and deeply ruled by the power given away to men in our society. I realized how much it was important for me to see this imbalance. Could there have been a greater shift in my consciousness than that at such an auspicious time.  Here I was in my prime and power and realized I have been programmed to give that power away and to accept not having control of it in a very deep rich sense.  As if someone had subliminally convinced or hypnotized me to giving over the keys to this luscious Maserati of my body and soul.  With no privilege or say in its use and misuse.

I can see how the years of work in a career driven by male authority figures seemed so mysterious to me. How could I ever have validation and appreciation from them?  Years of living a life without compliments from men in my life that didn't treated me as an equal.  I often wondered how it was that I should actually be able to ever feel good about who I was, or feel good about what my skills and talents could produce.  It wasn't until I was forty years old that my own father told me he was proud of me. It was a moment that knocked me to my knees. It was a moment that he struggled to articulate how in awe he was at my personal power, tenacity and strength and vulnerability.  I cried for days and still tear up while typing now. These are life changers no doubt.  These are the moments that I will hold on to. I will mourn them and celebrate them in their gifts.  The gifts of release, the gift of accepting humanity and understanding society.  I am now gifted with the ability to move on and "Let it go!" for my highest good!

It is easier to say than do and thus makes my next biggest trick...Letting go of the ties that bind me to my old life and beliefs!  Allowing for space to grow and release the scripts that run a muck in my scattered mind of self doubt and confidence.  This is the great challenge in this season of change!

Crossed Paths

Thinking of the idea that I have been here before is not unusual for me.  What is unusual is the "ah ha" moment when that Deja vu is explained in meeting with someone who is evidently a part of our soul's plan this time around. This happens when I realize that there is something unique about a person I have met and or worked with and there is a recognition of sorts that my soul makes.  The belief in reincarnation is one I hadn't given much credit to ten years ago.  Now I am blessed enough to work with people that actually seek out time with me to do Past Life Regressions (PLR) to identify patterns and habits that accompany each of us into each life incarnation.

Some may say it is all baloney and minimalize the larger message such a hypnosis session brings. One can not explain the knowing that comes to individuals about a historical event, a foreign language never learned or geographical details unknown in this current lifetime.

What is more intriguing to me is to go back further past a recent PLR with an individual and explore the souls' path and mission.  Asking the infamous questions like, "Why me?", "What was I thinking when I thought I was strong enough to endure such a life?" are the head shaking parts of our current life that leaves us asking for reasons and rhyme to this crazy dance of a life. I like to think of it as stopping and asking for directions in a town you have been to more than a few times.  We know the way but for some reason have forgotten it.  When we ask these questions all we are really trying to do is see the bigger picture of purpose in our toils and troubles.  Getting the reason for the struggle, the war, the crisis and the pain.  Somehow our humanity thrives on reasons for everything. Our brains are hard wired for reason and order. As infants our first indicator of order is facial pattern recognition.  Figuring out if we have seen that person before and is it the same as the person who cares for me or not.  We then are taught to recognize voice and speech patterns, to color sort and size every bit of information that comes to us in multiple modalities such as vision, listening, tasting, touching, and smelling.  Our brains learn at a rapid rate to categorize all of our experiences and store them for future recall and reference.  We know this from studying the brain development of infants and language mapping research.  Thus with knowing all this we can not recall a past life while in our present consciousness.  It remains a mystery and is shunned as something that is taboo.  knowing all about ourselves is left up to a God.  Knowing about us is our divine right and to take advantage of the patterns our souls present, is in a way, an entitlement to the cosmos.

Sometimes people say, "you look so familiar to me and I can't figure out where I know you from!" or "Something just clicked when we met!"  These things are in our life by no accident.  My belief is that we must have made an agreement, a soul's agreement to be in each other's lives even if for a fleeting portion of it.  This is when we have to sit up and take note and ask ourselves, "what is the message in this path crossing?", "who is this person to me?" and I wonder how we are connected?".  Some of our soul agreements are made to teach each other, some are made to remind us of our divinity and the divinity of the universe and soul! Our greatest lessons come to us delivered by a soul that was in agreement to deliver an experience, or knowing and to remind us of the big picture of our progress as a human but more importantly, to bring us to appreciate our higher purpose and evolution.

Reflect on the people in your life.  Reflect on the lessons they have taught you. Think about what that conversation might have been before this incarnation to create such an event or experience. Who are your exes and who are your  enemies? Who are your children and loved ones? What is their purpose? What is their message to you or yours to them? When we can acknowledge the purpose of people in our journey we can thank them for their gifts, lessons and presence.  Even the painful lessons of hurt, betrayal and shame are equally as important as the joyful ones.

Think about the people who call you up and check on you. Being mindful of your soul and your trials is immeasurable to anyone in a dark or struggling place.  Then when this rodeo is finished we can meet again on the other side and high five even chest bump each other to say "Thanks for being in my life, we rocked it!"

Electric Soul!

I can't sleep. Every muscle is jumping and my mind is racing. I want to sleep and to escape my  mind today. Yes there are things so deeply moving inside me that I am screaming to rest. I am wondering if this is self imposed or an action from God and the Universe! What am I supposed to make of this?  When I close my eyes in longing for mental rest, I see visions of people and things. They feel random to me and feel not at all connected to me in the moment. As if I am watching a darkly lit screen of something on television in my head.
I long for a cup of coffee. I long for a normal easy calm life. I long for a worry-free life and companionship that is simple.  I am nothing close to any of those longings. I am so in my head it hurts.  I feel everything in the Universe in my own body. I can't watch television because the news hurts me.  It hurts to see the pain and suffering in the world, the crime and corruption. It hurts to see people suffer and to feel other people emotions. I can't watch scary or sad movies. I can't see blood and horror.  It is all too painful for me to experience.  I feel it so intensely that I have to run from it. As a super Cancerian, empathic, psychic intuitive, I am too fragile in that way. I am physically feeling things that are happening to others. In a way it feels so intense that I wonder if it is like having the diagnosis of Autism spectrum disorder but that of a psychic!  It is maddening most days.  Especially if I am alone with it.  I know that getting out and about is one cure to making it quiet down. I want to know how to tame it and discipline this power of mine.  Sometimes it feels unruly like a puppy without any direction. Other times it feels like someone turned on a fire hydrant and my mind and body are trying to manage the force of the things I am feeling, seeing and knowing.
I am not hungry and food feels too laborious to be bothered with.  Cooking is really only a social activity to me. Although I love cooking I go through super sensitive days not wanting anything except water and herbal tea.  If I could leave my house I would go outside and pick dandelion leaves and make that into a tea. Perhaps with the current energies I might be able to do just that later.
On days like these I wouldn't dream of going to Walmart or even the grocery store for any necessities! The energy level of the world is too intense to even sit in the parking lots of such places.
I wonder what it would be like to be in a intimate relationship while being this sensitive. I honestly don't think I am suitable for an intimate relationship when I have the amp-age of the world going through my veins and head! I know it feels safest to stay in my room.  Imagine how it felt to be in this form and having to go teach children with multiple disabilities in a preschool classroom! Being among the neediest creatures on earth is often so intense it would make me breakdown and cry! Some days feel un-survivable!
Reeling myself back in one moment at a time, giving in to my humanity is daunting.  Can't we just be who we are as souls and not have to learn the capacity of this human shell in lifetime?  It feels so restrictive, so limiting. I long for stillness and rest. Sleep is the escape. There are no ways to avoid today's energy and impact. Careening down hill at inevitable speeds and feeling the impact before one hits the wall. No numbing out this day!

H. E. L. P.: that four letter word!

For months now I have been in a wallow kind of place and mood. There have been moments when I have been deeply inspired to write but am out and about in the car or not near my computer.  I made every effort to write a few notes of said inspiration into my little black book that I carry around with me but had not gone back to reflect or create from it until today.

"Help" was what I thought I needed to get this thing going.  To get my book written, to get the private practice off the ground and to write and create my marketing and webpage promotions.  I wanted "help" but was afraid to ask anyone for "help"! I had spent money on coaches and individuals to teach me many things but yet a year later the book hasn't budged! I had however done some deeply personal transformational work that has rerouted how I think and feel and see myself.  I am now more feminine and my heart and head are cracked wide open to every facet of my feminine powers and my divine purpose.  With a crystal clear understanding more than ever I know that I am supposed to write and write and write. There in lies the biggest problem!

I have known since I was a little girl that I was different than others, more sensitive, more intuitive and more knowing.  I known that for a very long time in my life I have hidden those gifts for the sheer idea of survival and avoidance of being shamed for them.  Looking back it feels as if I had to unearth them myself because no one could "help" me with that work.  There wasn't anybody that I knew that could really "help" me with the spiritual work.  There were folks that understood it and cheered me on and let me stretch my talents and skills on them to practice.  In the end it was just me, no "help" for this journey.  Part of me also knew that I had to go through this journey to be able to later write about it to "help" others in awakening to their powers and talents.  Just listening to myself read that line makes me shake my head in thinking that is wacko! Who would have thought I could have done that and then perceive myself as a leader in this field?  It was my intuitive talents that really gave me the help I longed for all along!  The help was within me waiting to come out. Waiting to be relied upon and flex its muscles.

For the past twenty-two years I have been a special education teacher, specializing in Deaf Education. All of this brought on by my first born daughter's diagnosis of deafness. As the catalyst that people are in our lives, she was a big one for me. It changed how I communicated, how I spoke up and advocated, how I perceived Divine intervention, and how it would shape my entire world and hers forever.  This was a career in which I could "help" others while helping myself learn about deafness.  That story in itself is a book.

Thus my journey on understanding "help"! I didn't know how to raise a deaf child, alone, I went and asked for advice. I had to do it myself and essentially there were only teachers and wonderful people who crossed our path that could advise us on what to do but, the doing was our own.  Counsel was the "help" I could gain. No one could do it for me.  Throughout my years I sought out the smartest and wisest people in the deaf education industry and sponged every morsel of technical knowledge I could off of them. I vowed to be the best deaf education early intervention teacher on the west coast, let alone in the United States when I finished my masters degree, All of the many endorsements I amassed to feel better and more equipped, each endorsement and each credential was a brilliant compliment to the one before it and the one before that. Yet I still felt I needed 'help"!

I grew up with the idea that "help" was okay to ask for if your were a kid but, not okay to ask for as an adult.  I also know that my previously Christian and Mormon lifestyle prided and valued the souls that could help others while still be resilient and resourceful for being able to help themselves.  This created a rock and a hard place. How can one "help" others if they themselves need "help"?  My parents raised me to fix things first, sew and cook and gain knowledge from books.  There wasn't YouTube videos back then so it was a lot of trial and error.  It is so much easier to offer "help" than to receive "help" for many of us!

Deep in this rock and a hard place, I would find myself stuck at times to know what to do and crying out for "help"!  Crying in my shower, crying in my church, crying out in my daily thoughts for the directional "help" I longed for but couldn't get!  Here I was the so called "expert" in doing such a journey, yet I secretly felt like I needed "help" and was a fraud because I didn't know what I was doing!  Then tragically the journey to the divorce happened. I cried out more and more for "help". I prayed harder, I researched more, I sought counsel from church members and people I thought were more knowledgeable than myself.  I felt lost and confused and so desperately in need of "help" that no one could give me on earth! I could glean nothing from friends or counselors or doctors or the people that I was raised to believe were experts and could "help" me. I needed to "fix" my life and I was at a deep loss for how to do it alone.  The person that I had married and had been my best friend for 14 years was now angry and trying to "fix" his own mess of a life.

There I was divorced, with three daughters and one foster to adopt son, trying to create a vision for what I wanted in my life and how to be happy again. I was afraid of men, afraid of the economy, afraid of rumors and what people thought about me and my family.  Here we were again, feeling different than those of my community!  I was a single mom with two deaf kids and two hearing kids, making it month to month with a teachers salary and fighting to keep my sanity. I felt the shun from the Mormon church and from my married friends.  Some of my married friends stuck by me but could not relate to my struggles or feelings of isolation and aloneness. My children and I struggled to find ourselves, them in their redefined life without their Dad and me in my redefined life of being all that and the buck stops her kind of gal.  There wasn't any "help", nor did I want any! There wasn't anyway I wanted to look weak to my children or to others so that I might be judged harshly and categorized as "weak" without a man!  That concept just makes my blood boil.

Somehow I found it so much easier to give than to receive as a so called "modern woman".  Perhaps the idea of giving is a way to avoid being in need or somehow associated with the helpless, needy female archetype that is so mythically carried on in our society!  I have never been a princess in my lifestyles or cultures, as that was intolerant in my mid-westerner middle class upbringing.  There was really never anytime to morn, grieve loss or be depressed in our family.  I remember during the years after my father's military retirement he struggled with finding his groove and we all believe he was severely depressed. Despite his depression he couldn't ask for help.  This was the original model for stoicism that started the lifetime of isolation and struggle.  Lucky us!  Please realize that my parents were children of the depression and that was the nature and culture of their parents and their generation, we have all absorbed into of our own fabric! So here it is, we are shamed and celebrated in our stoicism.  If you think back to when the American society started to publicly reinforce hard working women and selfless acts of independence and supporting others.  Remember "Rosie the riveter"? Yes this has been an orchestrated and guilted perception for us as a nation and especially as women. When and were does this soften up and allow us to realize that women are indeed human and need to be treated as such. Allowed to not be expected to do more than anyone just because we carry the role of parent or an icon to our civilization?  Don't we find it ironic that when the government or nation is in trouble they capitalize on the feminine power but can not afford us equality in peaceful more economically happier times?  It is as if the world only wants women of power to be powerful when they have a bully to take on!

So how can one balance the need to "help" and the need for "help"? Be ye man or be ye woman, finding the inner knowing is our only true help that we are all divinely outfitted with. Be kind to yourself first.  One of my favorite quotes about "help' came from a Mormon, "One can not help others to the top without getting there themselves!" -Gordon B. Hinckley  So imagine how hard it might be to push someone to the top if you don't know the way?  Imagine that we now, more than ever need the playing field leveled for women and we need to unshackle the shame that keeps us from achieving help  from the inside and from the outside! I can think of a bunch of other four letter words to bring on shame than "help"!

Gifts from the Past, Present and Future!

Wow it has been so long that I sat here to write , that I forgot how wonderful it felt and how soothing it is to my soul! It feels like playing the piano after a long stint away from my music. I can see the keys on my keyboard as if they were the ivories of a piano. Clicking to a rhythm and flow with a melody to create the words in my heart and on my mind.
It is helpful to look back on my years of posts and see that changes have been steady and raw. Seeing the work in progress and in past makes me proud to know that the trials are just as beautiful as the victories!

I used to think I was cheated when I graduated from high school and my parents gave me an electric typewriter, when my classmates got cars and diamonds and pearls.  To me the typewriter felt like a passive aggressive message, somehow saying to me... "write when you find work!"! What did they know about me that I didn't know at that time was that I was indeed best served by writing and creating and composing the words that I experienced in my heart, my mind and my soul! Did they really put that much thoughtfulness into the graduation gift?   Did they know that my life was to be written for all to read?  Did they know that the signature of a writer was in nine of the twelve houses in my astrological chart? Did they know that my numerology computation is the signature of a writer?  Did they know this was to be my ultimate bliss?  It is amazing to me the serendipity in this story!
Now that I am seeing what I forgot in my thoughts and feelings or the lack thereof I am sitting in my recognition!  Recognition is like possession, 90% of the law of healing and changing from within! Now seeing the change and loss of time at the keyboard I am feeling the numbness in my fingertips again from being able to let the passion of writing take stronghold.

Today there was a sonic boom of sorts in my soul! I stood in the bank parking lot just retrieving cash for my oldest daughter to fund for her trip to her new home in California.  She had come home to get her things and sort her old life to prepare for her upcoming marriage and life.  I hugged her tightly and it occurred to me that I had not done enough to prepare her for the world and to strengthen her.  She seemed so small for a fraction of a second during our hugs goodbye. I wondered if she needed more?  This would be the last time I would see her before she changed her name, her expectations of the world and her relationship to time. She was about to forever change her life and her dreams. The sonic boom came as I drove away and heard the loud wave of sadness rise from my heart in a tight aching that welled up the tears in my eyes.  I was realizing another big event was happening and I needed to release it into the Universe.  At this point could I give myself more? Could I give her anything of value than the understanding of who she was and how much I loved her?  Should I have sat down with her and done her tarot cards or a numerology reading to help her know what she should do with her life?  No, my intuition and knowing are not needed here.  Just the vibrations of love and hope for her and her soul!  This must have been how my parents felt when I drove away with a U-haul full of stuff to begin my new life!  Returning to the place of silence has helped me.  I tried to wrangle my tears driving home. I called my own mother's cell phone. Wanting to tell her thank you and that I am able to see all that she did for me and gifted me with!  No answer.  Would she have been able to accept my message if I had been able to deliver the gratitude over the phone?  I am not sure. It might be a bit too late.

So here it sits with me to keep on task and with focus on the point I tried to make earlier.  There is rhyme and reason in chaos and in stillness! The perfect life is as unpredictable as the imperfect life.  That truly one must be able to live in the flow of life, watching for bubbles of air that rise to our consciousness! Catching our breath in the tide pools and strengthening our muscles and soul in the strong under currents.  There is nothing more my parents could give to me than that.  There is nothing more that I can give to my children than just that as well.  The gift of being present and loving regardless of what happens.

Be Still my Soul!

Wondering at my humanity today.  Seeing the cracks of my imperfection and owning their divine perfection.
Leaving a note to my daughter, how can I say these things? Will you hear me and feel me? Are you able to sense the clarity? Please listen and feel and know how deeply you are loved and supported!

There is such wisdom that I don't even understand in this lifetime.  I remember from my past, laying on the sands on a beach in Moorea, Tahiti and cry my soul out to the melodic song of Pachelbel Cannon in D Minor on a loop from my Walkman tape cassette player.  Wanting and longing to know what will come of the future and what I will become as a person.  I felt so lost. I felt so frightened and alone. I longed to have someone tell me that this very longing to know was hardwired in me from the beginning. That challenge to think, to see and to feel. I was different that what I perceived my kind was.  Those that were in my family, those that were my peers. I was longing on a deeper level and in vibration to that journey's end! I was beautiful in my rawness and in my humanity. In tears and a sense of sadness, I was alone, on my own. No one to rescue me, no one to stop the pain and searing aches of growth and independence.  My fragility was divine just as designed. I longed for my knowing and my soul tribe.

Watching you grow has been amazing! Knowing your divine self is humbling. Thankful to be able to witness this and be mindful of it is earth shaking.  You walk differently, you carry your soul differently. I am proud of you and your journey.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RpC8gQZT9HY

I get this life in a completely different way than I did at twenty-one, thirty or even yesterday's age of forty-nine.  I see my purpose with clarity only in looking at my past, my children and my community.  I see my fragility in listening to what others say and how I interpret the inner language of my disappointment in my present moment.

I now hear what I couldn't hear yesterday. I see what I couldn't see yesterday. I feel what I refused to yesterday. Each day it is given another opportunity to celebrate another chance. To allow for the process to flow over me and to be acutely aware of my human experience.

"Be Still, My Soul" by Catharina von Schlegel, 1697-?
Translated by Jane Borthwick, 1813-1897
1. Be still, my soul; the Lord is on thy side;
Bear patiently the cross of grief or pain;
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In every change He faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul; thy best, thy heavenly, Friend
Through thorny ways leads to a joyful end.2. Be still, my soul; thy God doth undertake
To guide the future as He has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence, let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul; the waves and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while He dwelt below.3. Be still, my soul, though dearest friends depart
And all is darkened in the vale of tears;
Then shalt thou better know His love, His heart,
Who comes to soothe thy sorrows and thy fears.
Be still, my soul; thy Jesus can repay
From His own fullness all He takes away.4. Be still, my soul; the hour is hastening on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul; when change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.Hymn #651
The Lutheran Hymnal
Text: Psalm 46:10
Author: Catharine Amalia Dorothea von Schlegel, 1752, cento
Translated by: Jane Borthwick, 1855
Titled: "Stille, mein Wille"
Composer: Jean Sibelius, b. 1865, arr.
Tune: "Finlandia"

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.

Even Super Heroes Swear! Favoring the f-bomb!

In a moment's time I am able to amass such calmness and bring forth the patience of a warrior, one with a long deep breath and focus.  Yet the moments of daily transformation often kick me for a minor loop.  Having to sit in my skin and realize this could actually be a moment like "Duh" and feel human again! Another deep sigh and then it comes to me.  The forgiveness for my humanity. Knowing that my strength is actually my fragility.  Once afraid of my own power, I couldn't see into the me that I was designed for. I wouldn't open my eyes to the possibility of greatness. Fearing the power, fearing the mantle of such design can terrify us all. Every man and every woman born into this life with blinders of destiny, shielded by religion, culture and our damage we have acquired along the way.

I have been infamously known for dropping a bomb here or there, the eternal "F" bomb. Once or twice at work, once or twice at church, once or twice in a place of reverence.  I realize of course that calling out our own sexuality with this singular word frightens more than 90 percent of my ancestors and peers today. Just because one uses the f-bomb doesn't always denote cognizant awareness of its meaning and origin. As time passes and one's intelligent and exposure increases, everyone can master the handling of such a powerful word. If you don't believe that then just imagine listening to a English language learner using the F-bomb for the first time and it will bring a smile to your face! Such a powerful word and yet so many know so little of it's power! 
"Are you sure you want to say that word?" doesn't get heard inside my head in the nanoseconds just before it's launch. There isn't a loud enough safety to stop me from saying it and sometimes I just laugh at the word and it's social construct so hardily that it brings me to tears.
I remember a time growing up when I heard my own Father use the f-bomb and the accompanying sign language or symbolic representation that is universally known. The Green Beret Colonel, man of steel and integrity and grace as an officer and a gentleman, showing his under belly and his humanity. Shock and amazement, awe and wonder! It was delivered in such a heavy angry tone. This was the first time I recognized my Father as a sexual creature, somehow showing his sexuality in the expression of a word so taboo.  I now look back and confidently knew he dropped the f-bomb throughout his life and his life away from us kids. I can imagine him during the Vietnam era using a daily diet of the f-bomb yet, never using it at home.  No, that would mean that he would admit to being a sexual creature, despite the evidence of him fathering five children miraculously.  Especially never in the presence of women and children. Super hero power!
You know ladies never say the f-bomb. Women confident in their language mastery have plenty of other words to use instead of the f-bomb. Masked in linguistic skill and religious and social constraints.  One can never admit the comprehension to the word, the word that defines our knowledge of our true sexuality. Growing up my mother never ever said the f-bomb. How she held it back while raising five kids nearly alone as a military wife and especially in foreign countries and among strange languages. Raised on an Ohio farm during the depression. The youngest of four children, my Mother had a saying that still resonates to this day, "if you don't have anything nice to say, then don't say anything at all!".  She certainly didn't acknowledge her ability to articulate her sexuality. My parents were perfectly paired in their era.  It wasn't until I became an adult did I ever hear my mother drop the f-bomb. I am sure it was part, awareness and part her reaching comfort in her maturity that the f-bomb even was able to surface.

I believe it was in high school there was a teacher at my high school that would accidentally drop the f-bomb during class. She was a beautifully sexy, vibrant and intelligent woman that had all girls and boys enamored by her skill, candor and her brilliance.  She had such swagger that we thought she was invincible. I know my classmates would remember her. I am sure our parents would label her a slut or trash because she didn't fit into their perceived role as teacher as defined by their generations. We knew then as kids to keep her openness a protected secret. Yes, among fellow students we relished the idea of a teacher that could transcend our generation with one word, with such style and candor. We almost revered her.  Perhaps we did in reality. This was something no one else in the adult world would use. I know we all intrinsically knew that revealing her humanity and ability to use the f-bomb was taboo, tattling and judging her. We actually celebrated it and realized the power of the f-bomb without knowing.  There was safety in the secret taboo. Keeping it from the system's ears and eyes. Keeping the power struggle of righteous dominion in check.  Allowing for humanity to surface without being bridled.
As time passes we can learn to explore the f-bomb.  Much like exploring our very own sexuality.  Using it in different settings, under different circumstances and in diverse company. Do we allow it launch to define us as a person, worthy or not, capable of being and doing differently? I say not. The best part about the f-bomb now is that that one word in the English language has the complexity of a masterpiece, in the right hands it can bring smiles and in the wrong hands it can elicit powerful fear.

 The bomb handler, is a delicate job. Each of us knows that how it has to be handled and delivery requires the skill of a technician deftly bringing timing, geographic, demographics and purposefulness into mastery. Yet even the young f-bomb handler can recall a mishandling event in their timeline and journey.  I remember laughing hysterically, almost peeing in my pants at moments when I or a close friends dropped the bomb in the most auspicious way. The reaction and delivery brought us to our knees.  At the moment it was powerful and precise. Like a true bomb, that brought us great joy and bliss. It wasn't slighted with shame or the deep dark taboo of sexual symbolism in our minds, although it may have well been shamefully taboo to the audience surrounding us. The f-bomb has no sense of stoicism or reverence. It is just what it was designed to be, without pretense and posturing. Raw, real and deeply human. Allowing the sensuality of its meaning to deliver more than the human condition can comprehend in its limited role. The limited role of repressed and shamed.  The power of one word strikes the world to it's core and brings humanity to even the greatest superhero! Oh yes, and by the way, welcome to earth and our own humanity!

A different fit, now a more tailored me!

Even with a deep breath, I couldn't make it feel like before. I knew instinctively that there was no turning back. I would never feel the same as I did just a few days ago. Everything was a bit different, my skin, my eyes, my breath. Yet there was this familiar part of this new feeling, this feeling of change. I have been in this change seat many times before. Change from child to young adult, from student to teacher then back to student again. Change from single to married to divorced. Change from fragile to strong then back to fragile again. Change from standing, to moving forward. I feel the reeling in my stand, like a pendulum in the master's hand. Circling and waving to the vibration of the Universe's signals. Back and forth, swinging with the tides of each new moon.
Partially by need, partially by inner drive, the change has come around and I am now standing in it with a full conscious awareness, hearing "it is about time"!  When I knew the change was coming I put it off, I lamented in it and hoping the lamenting would buy me time to avoid the pain.  Like the perfect parent of a child's journey, I was promptly guided to step forward. I was terribly afraid to breathe, open my eyes and my heart.  The Universe gently affirmed me, "That's right.  You are exactly where you chose to be, and for this purpose, you have come to now." My unconscious knows this deeply, nodding my head, I peered out of one eye, then opened the other shyly. Frightened by what I might see.  I saw the same view I had before the change, now it felt different. It felt fearless, and completely obtainable. Well within my power because my knowing had changed to be a knowing of comfort that the Universe was behind me 100% with all it's love and all of its power.  That power that was mine, there all along and designed for my journey, my joy and my bliss!  "There isn't any holding back now, Ann!  It is just as you asked. You had the power all along. Your fear was just that, the fear of your own power!"

There were those pangs of fear, anxiety and worry about how this would actually work. I longed to know what it would be like. I longed to have a vision for what would come. I wanted the vision immediately so that I could use that as my inner GPS system and ignore the inner dialogue running around in my skull.  Breathing into the vision is my daily task, breathing life into this, to ensure that it grows, that I am working and doing my part to ensure my life's mission, my life plan. This is the point, to be able to complete the agreement of my soul and my highest good.  Change the world, to make it lighter, brighter, softer and gentler.  Accepting the human condition and fragility, recognizing the inner me, the inner you. Taking that breath and knowing the soul's intention and desire is more than what most can ever articulate. Guiding us to find that soul's desire, reaching into the deepest darkest parts of the human condition to bring it up into the light. deep from within the well of our society's empty places.  Empty places created by judgment, power and greed.  When we sit and listen still to the inner voice, recognize the message, we can recognize the pattern of the signal of our inner radio guidance system, we are then able to tune in and resonate with the frequency of a higher message and a higher call.

Sometimes the energy of this frequency may seem unfamiliar.  It is the energetic resonance of the highest good, the Universal creator. It may seem foreign or scattering to our earthly frequencies of thought and knowing.  Finding the quiet place and showering in it is making time for Divine Feminine power.  Ground in this moment. Breathing into my vision and dreams and soul's agreement.
Being present there, here, all at once in the vastness of this experience. I am.

The power of two...

Two handed, I am holding onto this place in the Universe.
Two footed in a journey of unknown destination,
Two sides of the coin bringing chance into play.

Two peas in a pod gives me company,
Two minutes of meditation are better than none.
Two souls acknowledge the divine in each other.
Two thoughts create a pattern.

Two nights in Vegas makes a lifetime of memories.
Two fisted drinking in the world and its refreshing powers!

Two way,
To get.

Too cool.

Two timed.

Two dice,
To chance.

Two headed.
Too heady.

Two places at one time in a flash.
Too much too little.

Too late for regrets,
Two times as good,
Too much fun.

Two sides of the story,
To be or not to be.

Two faced,
too tired.

Too pooped.
Two bookends.

Two stories to tell.
Two heads are better than one.

To gaze too deep.
Two roads to Rome.

Double the pleasure,
Two shakes of a lamb's tail.

Today,
Tonight,
Tomorrow.

To infinity and beyond.
To the tune of,
To make a difference,
To believe.

Two servings, Seconds.
Double up.

To know and not act.

To win one's heart,
Two times the fun.

Two yolk egg,
Two places in a yoke.

Two shoes to journey,
Two nods of recognition.

Two strands in a helix.
Two types of people.

Two parts to each heart.
Two sides of the brain.

Two halves make a whole.
Too hot to handle.

To be continued.

Yee Haw!... what a ride this has been!

Remember that feeling, when you are all strapped in and the car starts to move forward and it makes that click-clacking sound vibrates every bone in your body? That sensation of forward movement and shaking and vibration of the movement and the energy in your veins and in your head. That is the moment of awareness.  Amazingly, it feels so much different than before. I longingly wanted to understand this frequency years before and now I find myself beyond understanding. I am finding harmony in this vibration. It is the harmony of a new individual that is bursting out of the old and emanating the light energy  that has been long hidden, hampered and squelched. Blinding, bold and shocking to look within.  How is it that I could fight this from coming out? Who is this person I am becoming? How is it that the world has kept this a big secret and controlled it with the reins of such power?  Astonishingly, it is in each of us.

It is a vibration of awareness of all shades of gray and all shades of color. With twists and turns and directional disorientation, I am experiencing this in a whole different way. This vibrational awareness is what is shocking my place into the Universe. Calling me to stand up and step forward.  Shaping me into the person I am destined to be.  Now science is the science of humanity not the science of the dark, unknown, it is a science of light. No longer serving falseness, this science of humanity united with spirituality, fully awake, fully alert, eyes and heart wide open and designed to keep us in our now state.  Creating, knowing, growing and placing the good vibrations in the parts of our world where they are rightfully designed to be.  Breaking the image of gloom and misunderstanding of ourselves, our relationships to each other and to the earth.

It is not the vibration of consciousness that I share with my family of origin, nor the vibration of my past, nor the vibration of those in my life that are in a vacuum state of need and fear.
Those vibrations are of an entirely different level. Much lower than this present state of awareness.  Those are the vibrational frequencies of shame, rage, anger and fear.  The vibrational frequency of "less than" or lack.

Some might wonder what I am doing to induce this level of vibrational change.  What are you taking to give you this awareness and attunement? How can you possibly know this is different from any other trip you have taken physically or emotionally and spiritually?  At the cellular level, my heart is broken wide open by the endless experiences of our humanity, our society and lack of awareness has trapped it in.  At the spiritual level, just like all other of my kind, have longed for the more, something more than our perception of what we had. Somewhere, hard wired into our existence that we are more, there is more, and that need for more.  More is better in this instance. Hearts and souls are awakening to the hang over. The gluttony of the binge of this present state to the morning after in our soul.   Now chemically needing, truth, love, integrity to nourish our soul, our body, our mind and more than ever the Universe!

Frighteningly, the roller-coaster ride of peaks and drops, my soul and consciousness screams in excitement and fear. Somehow hanging on with dear life and trusting my brain will remember to breathe in all of the upheaval. Looking around me at the other participants of this change, searching their hearts and faces for the similar awareness and experience. This only validates the thrill of the ride. This knowing and vibration of a continual ride for me is the best thing that has ever happened to my soul!