Gather the bones of your ancestors my friends. Gently whisper into their ears.
The time has come to be released from their form.
Even in the world of spirit, some still struggle with the darkness. Others still fear the light.
Accompanied by the Divine, you will become master of your own heart as this portal emerges upon us.
A solstice so inviting, the sun and moon weep tears of ecstasy,
The stars surrender to a rhythm only love can create.
We are in a brief moment in time where we can dwell in the house of the gods.
All of us.
Both saint and sinner, equally held by tender mercies of a great compassion we have yet to behold.
It is here the unknown will be known to us.
Where God’s magnificent handiwork upon creation
Will be afforded the indispensable opportunity to forgive one another.
To release each other from the very darkness that brought us to this place.
To release our ancestors from their own fears.
Yes, a brief moment in linear time is upon us my fellow travelers.
We beseech you Solstice, have mercy on us and give us the strength to enter into love unconditionally.
The earthquake in Marrakesh
The fires in Maui
The flooding in Libya
Just a few of the tears in our sorrowful tapestry as we wait for more to come.
The earth has become a battlefield and
Death has become a neighbor
Waiting to be recognized with the
Early morning sun only to rest before the rising moon.
We are drenched in the unknown
Not knowing which ancestor to call upon for mercy
Forgetting that our hatred of those who have different wounds
Than us has scorched the earth
Dried her womb of creation
Drained her blood of hope.
We have been given time to remember the valley of God from which we came.
Every angel has shouldered the burden of our mistakes
Has forgiven our trespasses
Has talked with the sun, the moon, the stars
Has begged the earth to forgive us for not understanding what it means to love.
We still have time
To love.
It is a choice.
One that shouldn’t be so difficult to make.
Dehumanization
Dehumanization.
So much suffering goes unnoticed or is marginalized. I watch as violence rises within humanity whose moral compass has been challenged by wounds past and present. Bearing witness to our own challenges, not to mention those around us, has become all about survival of the fittest.
Why do we reward the emotionally and spiritually strong and berate those we see as weak?
Why is there a need for separation?
A wound can leave a sense of depersonalization that all of us struggle with. It begs the question, who are we without our wounds?
We tend to isolate in times of weakness but present ourselves when we feel brave.
I see so much separation with our individual and shared suffering. It has an element of dehumanizing us because somewhere in that separation, our unworthiness motivates us to continue to separate even further from ourselves, from each other. Bearing witness for many carries shame, as though a wound becomes a trademark for our life story and survival is a means by which we attach our deepest insecurities to life itself instead of receiving life as a gift.
It takes a lot of inner work to truly see life as a gift and not a race to thrive and rise above suffering.
This competition we have created so that we may live evokes such an emotional and spiritual death, the dehumanization of humanity.
The us vs. them mentality will not help us rise above, but will only compel us to fold inward.
I respect your suffering.
I respect my suffering.
May an inspired peace arise from that space.
Not everything is projection.
There’s this place within us where chaos desperately searches for silence.
Where trauma is recognized on a preverbal level, having occurred transgenerationally.
Where cellular memory works tirelessly to integrate parallel realities and collective wounds.
Where the narratives of our ancestors dwell in our cerebrospinal fluid pulsing to the rhythms of every experience they have ever shared with us.
Where identity and integration become pathways for the validation of thoughts and emotions
We were never allowed to honor.
Not everything is projection.
Perhaps what we call projection is simply a need to feel safe.
An undeniable yearning for the acknowledgement that feeling safe Is a human and spiritual right
Afforded to us as we pass from the womb onto this sacred earth
Carrying our stories in our hearts not to be told through someone else’s experience,
But to be spoken when we do feel safe enough that even the silence can be heard rejoicing.
You’ve spent a lifetime trying to overcome your fears.
Waiting for the sun to rise because someone once told you
That fear cannot exist where there is love.
You’ve heard that ego is a poison which treads heavily on
The spiritual path and ridding yourself of this aspect of being
leads to enlightenment.
You’ve been taught that this world is illusion and to practice non-attachment to all things physical.
I don’t remember a time when fear did not exist without love.
When darkness did not acknowledge the light and light learned from the darkness.
When ego did not balance the spirit and the spirit needed ego to grow.
When the physical world was a manifestation of love and creation was not illusion but a gift.
Who was it that claimed to know the perfect path to enlightenment?
Life is an experience and a consciousness..
Steps into your own heart and mind.
The silence will tell you everything you need to know.
The stillness will show you how to embrace it.
The emptiness will teach you how to live it.
Dear Earth,
Your wounds are becoming more visible each time you burn or flood with embers of stories past
trying to reconcile themselves with the present. Tears are no longer raindrops but immense storms that ravage peoples and lands leaving them unrecognizable for generations to come. The sun and the moon dissolve into your shadow like a newborn birthing out of the womb unsure of its new surroundings. Humans and animals prey upon each other like adversaries whose swords only end up piercing their own hearts. I stumble each time I call out to you in bewilderment, wondering if you and God can sit down in a field and talk placidly. You implode at every moment you are disgraced, which seems to be unyielding these days. How can I blame you?
You were once a Garden of Eden immersed in innocence before the toils of ego ran rampant amidst humanity. I pray you forgive us our trespasses and that we learn a gentler way to honor you. And perhaps one day, we too can join you and God in that lush field of wildflowers touched by an earth whose time has come to finally know peace.
All my love,
Laura
Resurrection
Immersed in grief
She tip-toed through the emptiness
Trying to push through the wounds
Scattered like molten flesh and bone
Against an earth she deemed as foe
Against a heart she left unclaimed
In her quest to abandon her burdens
She forgot her own sacredness
Her own birth born to lifetimes of confusion
About to enter another incarnation
Another portal seeped in holy waters awaiting
The moment when the womb will set her free
To begin again
Another breath, another life
Another moment in time
When she can become the master of her own darkness
While dancing with the light.
Firefly
There are moments you feel consumed by emptiness
Yet flickers of light enter into the abode of your heart
The fireflies yearning to illuminate every shadow on your voyage.
You wait, with bated breath, for your world to stop crumbling
For your heart to start beating again
For a firefly to find its way upon your shoulder with its light
Simply to whisper in your ear
“You are not forgotten.”
I see you.
Struggling through the darkness and hiding your wounds
Afraid to let anyone see your despair.
I see you.
Lighting candles along the way for everyone else
When no one sees how alone you feel.
I see you.
Raw with such grief that each tear has its own name
as it rolls down your cheek.
I see you.
Embodying such isolation only to pretend it is solitude.
I see you.
Afraid to disappoint others when no one even remembers to
thank you.
I see you.
Praying so hard for others in need while prayers for yourself
never cross your lips.
I see you.
Embedded in shame that you feel you are not worthy of love.
I see you.
Losing faith while trying so hard to inspire it in others.
I see you.
Especially in those times you do not see yourself.
I see you.
In those moments you do not want to be seen or feel you do not deserve such acknowledgment.
Know that as much as you are seen you are also deeply loved.
Standing naked before God with streams of
tears running down my cheeks.
I watch as they collect like rainwater
On the weary ground beneath me.
A soil warmed by centuries of wounded
souls witnessed by the sun and the moon
that never waivered as they sheltered
nature’s creation and the beings that
were borne upon it.
Oh to be held by such compassion
by every god in the heavens
Embodying the miracles whispered
as every tear strolling down my cheek
held a prayer by our ancestors to be heard
and answered by all of creation.