This hallowed rain

Deluged with ancient souls

Torments the sky above me

Crying over every wound

Humanity has pierced itself with.

Every voice wants to return

To the gentle womb that gave it life

As well as limb and breath and hope.

If every pain was witnessed

By a light that was afraid to shine

By a darkness that could forgive,

How fortunate we would be to

Meet each other in grace.

The place that would soothe all our wounds

And remind this hallowed rain

That its holiness serves a purpose.

Its teardrops remind us we are all a part of God.

Do we let go of our integrity to remain in power?

Moral and ethical principles don’t always provide us with that sense of control, whether internal or external, when we are faced with challenging situations. The flight or fight response, the repetitive response we have to trauma, signals our brains that we have to survive. It doesn’t give us the time to contemplate integrity or sit with our powerlessness in any given moment.

Whatever we do to control any given situation when we are threatened might always feel like we are doing the “right” thing because we are trying to keep ourselves safe. Our challenges lose sight that we might be fighting for our beliefs because fighting for our survival usurps anything else. We believe that we are in integrity because we then relate integrity to feeling safe, in control and in power. I wonder how many of us can equate powerlessness with integrity? I wonder how many of us even want to try? It’s hard when we are engrossed in a world where we correlate our identities individually and collectively with having power. We experience this in every facet of society.

Integrity is one of the most potent forms of empowerment I have ever personally known and witnessed, especially in the face of undeniable powerlessness.


Trauma is entrancing.

Its darkness ignites a certain curiosity within us, testing the realms of our fear, our powerlessness, the unknown.

Its tentacles waging war in our psyches, in every universe within us.

We become mesmerized by both its strengths and its weaknesses.

We become mesmerized by our responses to what trauma triggers within us.

Some of us become so fascinated by the power it wields that we would rather allow ourselves to be engulfed in the flames

than to sit back and bear witness.

We name it, we love it, we hate it.

We identify with it at the same time we run from it.

We challenge it.

In understanding and knowing it more deeply, we feel we can know ourselves.

The day will come when you are not hypnotized by it any more.

The power struggle will quiet itself and you will simply walk away.

Bearing witness sometimes offers a greater reward than continuing to engage.

This is something I speak about often with clients. It seemed to be a recurring theme this week with sessions which is why I wanted to share a few thoughts here. Let’s look at the shaming around illness, especially around illness that is not so obvious to others, even those closest to you. There are so many new “illnesses” that are being diagnosed everyday, and younger people are coming down with conditions at a higher percentage from twenty years ago, ten years ago, even five years ago. It is not uncommon for me to hear from a client that people remark they look okay, so there isn’t an understanding or comprehension of a physical malady upon sight. A friend yesterday showed me a photo of a young woman she knows who is very ill and I said, “You wouldn’t know it because she looks amazing.” Yet many of these illnesses work insidiously, depleting a body of its most necessary resources and causing a myriad of symtoms for the sufferer. We are in a society where people are uncomfortable with their bodies first and foremost, and more so when it comes to becoming ill. We are a culture that does not know how to respect or approach illness within ourselves or someone we know. Please take a moment to take that last statement in. People are uncomfortable around illness and have many times, create shame based thoughts and relationships around that uncomfortability as opposed to learning new ways of approaching and respecting what are bodies or minds are struggling with. The shame based relationship we create with illness keeps us disassociated from ourselves and each other, furthering isolation and stress. Indigenous cultures understood the importance of relating to illness authentically, so that there was a sense of honor in alignment with one’s suffering no matter the extent of the illness.

There is such isolation that comes with the loss of emotional freedom, especially when it comes to people being able to express how they feel when they are ill.  A separation from society and from what is considered the norm is prevalent. Well, we are being shown that illness is again, occuring at any age these days and that there are so many “mystery” illnesses on the horizon. We are being faced with having to shift a paradigm of shame and uncomfortability around sickness and how we treat, define and separate ourselves from people who are facing these challenges.

I am willing to be with any uncomfortable thoughts that might get triggered around other people’s ailments. After all I have had my own struggles and have been working with people with physical and mental health issues for almost thirty years now. Once in a while, yes, I  still get triggered when I see someone suffering to the point that my own mind thinks is unfair. But I sit with it so that the space I hold for them becomes more authentic as I listen. 

If we can contribute to rising above the collective shame around being sick, I think that allows us to take a step closer to becoming a more compassionate world.

We are all afraid of carrying ourselves in front of people.

Of unveiling our vulnerabilities down to the distinct rawness of

character we imagine helps us feel safe

as we create our life narrative.

The labels we put on those narratives

as though self love is dictated by every measure of worth we attribute to those stories.

Oh the effort we expend to be real, to be seen, to be heard, to be valued.

When all we have to do, as daunting as it may seem, is to accept ourselves with such an intensity until we believe that we matter, that everything about us matters.

Freedom can be so exhilarating.

Some of your ancestors have taught you how to love.

Some of your ancestors have taught you how to hate.

What stories are you carrying in your weary bones

That ignite confusion across generations

Especially in the pivotal moment

Where you need to choose what kind of ancestor

You want to be to future generations to come.

Retreat slowly

So that when worlds collide

You will know where to find

Your solitude

Amidst the chaos.

It will liken itself

To an innocence not lost,

Only hidden from sight

Until it was ready to

Be completely understood.

Being human is not for the faint of heart.

Life is so very real, fragile, exhilarating, painful, luminescent.

Your bones bathe in your ancestor’s wounds

While your soul carresses a future lineage awaiting

Each breath of your awakening.

You could taste the earth, its rooted energies,

As it draws life into your blood

And moistens your marrow.

A life so vast the rocks and trees know you by

Your name.

The stars await your confession

The hardships you can no longer bear

The resentment without a place to call home

Within a mind and heart that was created to love.

No, being human is not for the faint of heart.

But I know you.

Perhaps in the way God knows you.

Perhaps in the way you know yourself

But are afraid to see the truth.

You are braver that you think..

After all, you are right here, right now.

So live and be human.

Sometimes a story needs to be told through your body.

Your ancestors might need to speak through your cells

Your blood and bones might need to relive a pattern until it comes to rest.

There are a myriad number of reasons why our illnesses and maladies are gateways to another world.

Be kind to your bodies, in weakness, and in strength.

From ashes to ashes

And dust to dust

We lay down our lives with each dawn

That passes when we 

Turn our hearts against each other.

There is no realm

Where we will not wait

For a patient judgement

That softens the hardness

From generations past

Who crave leniency for a prayer

Not yet spoken

Because pain for some is 

Easier to bear than love.

We will not be resurrected alone.

Lineages will gather

Upon a sullen earth

To tend to the needs of many.

If your desire for pain is greater than your need for love,

Will you be able to stand by your brothers and sisters?

The time has come to live an honorable life

Where your heart becomes one heart, living and breathing

For the many.

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