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I won’t tell you that fear is an illusion.

I won’t tell you that you will always feel safe.

I won’t tell you to let go of your grief.

I won’t tell you that the universe will always provide.

I won’t tell you that what you put out there is what you will attract.

I won’t tell you that if you surround yourself with white light that no harm will come to you.

With all the sages and saints whose wisdom has found its way to my heart,

What I can tell you is this.

We are part of a larger mystery

Where all emotions are raw and powerful gateways into deeper parts of ourselves

Where suffering is real and part of our spiritual development

And yes, we will lack truths and what we need to survive here at times,

That no matter what you extend into the universe, you will attract both light and darkness

Because that is life.

But we have been given choice,

An opportunity to grow or contract with what comes our way.

An opportunity within each moment to redefine

Our journey internally with our reactions and responses.

A freedom so powerful that many of us dare to utilize it.

The freedom to choose.

Holidays are not merriment and good tidings for everyone.

There are people that alchemize insecurities and fears, dreading the all too familiar power struggles at family gatherings.

I’ve listened to people for weeks before a major holiday celebration sharing the angst they feel, summoning up the pretense

To elicit an inescapable joy they feel others want to witness.

Polishing every emotional crack and crevice so the facade created hides the gnawing truth they would rather be somewhere else.

Sometimes that somewhere else is even outside of their own being, detached from familial memories of holidays gone awry.

Then there are those who have no family or home to go to. 

They wait with intense anxiety for the day to pass, for a courage to be ignited that reminds them

That they too, are a valuable force contributing to humanity.

They reach for any semblance of worthiness in the hopes that they might be a flicker of a thought in someone else’s day.

Then there are people who don’t want to celebrate, as memories of a loved one gone too soon triggers a pain so deep

That cultivating happiness is a daunting feat.

And the others, the people who can’t wait to greet the smiles and hugs of friends and families they hold dear.

Of stories they might have missed along the way and a familial experience which captures their soul.

This complex matrix that we weave around holiday time.

There is no right or wrong way to celebrate.

Each one of us is entitled to our experience, to carry it and live with it.

What I do hope is that no matter which thread we are weaving, that we do find something to be grateful for.

I believe we can, and that we actually owe it to ourselves and the life that has brought us to where we are now to do so.

I am grateful for my life, and for all of you who are in it.

Warmly,

Laura

Sometimes your wounds need a restFrom figuring out where you went wrongJudging them for not being good enoughShaming them for not knowing betterSeparating them from forgivenessIsolating them from truth.

Sometimes your wounds just need
To be gathered gently and held
By a heart filled with prayers of love
A kindness which allows them to
Breathe silence in its purest form
So that awakening is a softer path
And healing becomes more merciful.

Your unworthiness becomes an altar

Laden with burdens from an ancestral past

Tears strolling down your cheeks

With each footprint on your path

Joy becomes unrecognizable

As you feel responsible for the pain of others.

Who was it that taught you to live this way?

Freedom of self becomes an abandoned vision

That only mystics can obtain

The mountain too high to climb

The heart too heavy to forgive

Fragments of a life not lived strewn across the landscape

Of your inner humanity

Will your unworthiness be your only legacy?

Only you can decide.

Perhaps the precipice is not as steep as you think it is

Perhaps the tempest is merely a gentle rain cloud

Disguised as darkness

To test your faith

To make you believe that one step forward into the light

Worthiness waits to greet you.

I’ll be waiting for you.

Follow me amidst the graves of your ancestors, whose footprints you walk upon against the fertile earth beneath you with each passing day. Follow me as my voice beckons, calling out to your mother, your father, your grandmothers and grandfathers, their relations and their relations before them.

The earth may carry their bones but their spirits are ever present in every facet of your being. Your anger, your sorrow, your joy, your peace, each emotion permeating every cellular thread from the heavens to the earth. It is between and within those spaces where we have the power to change the past, the present and the future. When you follow me, you follow every footprint. Your first step, your baby step, your seminal imprint in this world is ensconced within a million footprints. If you want to change the world, honor the footprint. Honor the thread that connects you with a million souls before you and a million souls still awaiting their powerful births into this world.

Their stories of creation, their stories of survival, their stories of hope, their stories of love…those stories will not change, nor necessarily those that are predestined. What will shift is the way in which we perceive these stories, the ways in which we carry them in our bodies, the ways in which our cellular threads communicate every syllable through our ancestral genes.

Oh dear child, your ancestors will hear you. Your ancestors will know you differently than they do now. You will even come to know yourself differently. Follow me, amidst the graves of your ancestors. Learn their footprints by name so your own name might be revealed to them by the gods.

You are not broken.

You’re human.

Life wasn’t meant to be easy.

It was meant to be lived.

Choices weren’t meant to always make you feel safe.

They were meant to help you feel empowered despite the outcome.

Loneliness wasn’t meant to be healed.

It was meant to remind you just how much we are connected.

We all eventually rise.

We just have to remember the fall comes first.

Stop hating yourself because of the struggle.

Love yourself because therein lies the opportunity for growth.

There is this liminal space between bodies, the ones we incarnate into over and over again.The threshold where we may not get to choose gender or culture, limbs or features, or perhaps even the narrative that will earth our bodies into that experience.The fragrance and color of our hair, the width of our bellies, the flexibility of our aging joints, the health of our tissues and organs.The smile we may or may not have upon reflecting in a mirror.The narrative that will pursue us until we evolve into acceptance of each and every cell that has chosen to partner with our spirits.In that liminal space, you don’t expect illness or injury, harm or pain.We hope to be protected, embraced in a soothing portal of infinity where we reside with a holiness incapable of suffering when we reenter the earth realm.These bodies.Whether we choose them or not, they exist to carry us through this realm.Each cell yearning for a gentle humanity where every body is respected and honored.Each cell receiving even the slightest touch from another as grace moving fluidly between the heavens.These bodies become our home as long as God wills it.A form bestowed upon us to cherish for all time.Treat them with the respect as the Divine would have it.

You were made manifest

To cast spells of divine love

To conjure magic across realms 

Where ancestors await your whispers.

You were made manifest

To create imaginary worlds

Where all life is recognized as holy

Where every birth humbles the sun, the moon and the stars

And every death shares a story with God before resting.

You were made manifest

To run wild across the universe

And leave your footprints

Still dancing amidst the ethers singing your praises

Long after you’ve gone.

Unrecognizable. I was saturated with this immense feeling of joy. Its sweetness captured my breath And I was in a whirlwind of holiness From my head to my toes. If it wasn’t for the reflection of hope I saw in Every human being who crossed my path,I wouldn’t have known my joy as they don’t know theirs. It is written all over our souls. No matter how hard we try to deny it. It dances to each story we carry and each life we live. Oh to be embellished by such nectar. Thank you God.