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It’s hard in a partnership to not want to analyze or judge the other person’s experiences, thoughts, emotions or intentions.

It’s hard to identify your own inner process when we are too busy interfering in theirs.

I’ve seen this happen far too often.

A partner on a spiritual path or some kind of conscious inner work, yearning for their partner to bear witness to the changes they are going through. To bear witness to the transformation and evolution that has been a challenge in the making. I used to tell clients they cannot expect their partner to begin to understand the new person being birthed in front of them, especially when patterns in the relationship were years in the making.The desire for the transformation to be seen, heard, felt and witnessed may not always be met by those closest to us. That disappointment can leave us feeling empty, angry and alone. I remember when some partners in haste thought of leaving the relationship because expectations were met with emotional abondonment.

We have a tendency to judge the time frame in which a person heals, the amount of inner work they have done on themselves, and subsequently, blame may follow for not relating to the new person we have become and the ways in which our patterns have changed. We feel powerless as we look at our narratives so differently and we want our loved ones to rise to the occasion in the ways that serve us, not the ways that serve them or are safest for them. Think about that for a moment. They need to feel safe too. It’s not just about us.

Relationship becomes a power struggle when one or both people are healing. There’s this rush to heal and work through issues to mitigate the pain and uncomfortability. We think it is up to the other to connect to our new core, to the new ways in which we see things, as opposed to bearing witness to the ways in which they see things. Remember, once you have changed, your experience of your partner will change. If you allow for space, you will begin to see that their process might look a little differently than it did before.If one reality in a partnership shifts, so does the other but it can’t shift to our will and expectations.

So you take a step back, embody patience and compassion, and allow for change to be a choice for your partner, not a requirement.

There is a descent into the underworld where we embrace flesh and bone as much as we do spirit.

A descent into darkness where we fall upon our knees and give thanks to the landscape that nourishes our understanding of good and evil.

How fortunate we are to listen to the wilderness that runs through our veins, echoing our names over and over again until the illusion slowly dissipates into oblivion. To realize that we die so many times during our lifetime. The psychopomp materializing out of an emptiness, appearing in a form of a being we recognize as aspects of oneself.

A hidden landscape versed in the chorus of angels as well as the entreatments of demons. The ruler of this underworld are those wounds we hold close, yearning to ascend, reaching for any hand to help guide our way out of pain.

We become the master of life and death within our own experience. A nuanced pulsation of light and darkness, love and hate, a hunger for light to be fulfilled by pushing through the mire

of a reality created by thousands of years of disconnect from grace. We become the psychopomp that we have prayed for to carry us through this confusion of self and to leave the underworld as we originally left it. With love.

Yes, with love.

The wind in her long brown hair

Her heart beating against the unknown

Listening to the silence

So sacred

That one could hear the whispers of angels

In realms above.

Her womb pulsed to every story in creation.

Slowly, she became the silence itself

As all her fears dissolved into a grace

So peaceful

She clasped her hands and blew

A kiss to the only God she knew

That could make this hallowed dream possible.

Powerlessness rising with each flame.

A scorched earth crying

for anything holy to comfort its tears

Trembling lungs gasping for air

In a sea of purgatory and smoke

A fire with no boundaries

As it contemplates its existence

A fury that recreates itself 

Until the unknown 

Has nowhere to turn.

The sounds of chaos like shards of glass

Tearing away at any semblance of safety.

The thought of such intense emptiness

Amidst the landscape of an identity

Which has sheltered our souls.

The graves are not done being dug,

Death has not even reached its pinnacle.

But we have one thing the fire does not

We have each other

We have the whispers of prayers that are carrying

themselves across continents

Between a multitude of generations

And from angels above.

We have hope

That no flame can destroy

And a faith that will unite

Every broken heart bearing witness to this devastation.

Sending our love to California!

Where every wilderness unimaginable

Earths itself in silence until awakened

By a hunger only recognized by the gods.

What has withered away is nothing more

Than a loneliness yearning

To confess its sins to a heart

Emblazoned by love.

My wilderness whispers

each time it sees the sun.

Anointed by its radiance,

prostrating itself before a kingdom unknown.

A self gently unwinding into tenderness

Slowly making peace with

A life half lived

Waiting for communion

With a heaven within and beyond.

Solitude never looked so beautiful.

You become your own home dear child.

Giving birth amidst the chaos,

Ensconced in every landscape plundered

By multifaceted wounds from every dimension.

You’ve mastered the art of breathing in the darkness.

Haven’t you?

Reaching for any earthen holiness

To hold you tightly against the ravages of time

Waiting in earnest to walk with a God

You have only dreamed of meeting.

A God to guide you during every labor pain

Life has given you

Do you trust enough to rise from the ashes

Or let them engulf you?

Keeping still can make you feel like warrior or prey

But giving birth is the only choice

Afforded your soul in this very moment

Even when physical death is imminent.

Oh the life that humbly awaits you

The home that you crave has nestled itself

Inside you all this time

Waiting for drenching tears of joy

As you breathe faith into your lungs

For the very first time

Ever.

Welcome home my love, welcome home.

Happy New Year 2025!

Shepherding each other toward a world of light,

The littlest of joys sneak upon us

With such merriment

That we are cradled in wonder

From spirit to soul.

Oh how the child within us

Remembers with pure innocence

The magic of celebration

Of holiness dancing upon our hearts.

How we dreamed of more light

Until we could no longer fathom being separated from love.

Christmas….yes Christmas….

The sun will whisper its longest prayer to our ancestors.

It’s rays will spiral into fractals of grace, releasing us from forms of old. Both master and servant will yield to the unknown power of the Solstice.

There will be a moment for both humans and spirits to dwell in the house of the gods, both the powerful and the powerless, the wise and the ignorant, the just and the unjust.

The Solstice renders mercy, so much so that the earth weeps in ecstasy. Weaved within compassion, this portal, this reunion of parallel realities in linear time where God’s handiwork of creation kisses your cheek with warm tender lips leaving your heart open to receiving.

The sun’s prayer will change us all.

Forever.

May the powers of this Solstice Bless you.

Our landscape and emotional architecture protects us from a pain which is greater than any individual wound can carry.

Our landscape is interwoven, over time, with emotions so visceral and raw that even our ancestors from centuries past can hear us crying. And tears have been shed, especially these last few years. Our stories have changed because we have changed. How could we not? We have been reincarnated a thousand times in the bodies in which we live as a consequence of the major shifting and collective trauma that has unfolded before and within us. We have all been touched by it these last few years in some way. Our collective duality has transformed into a single testament to life, a single sacrament towards struggle, a single prayer towards love. And what are we to do with this new found intimacy once we realize we are at the edge of the Divine precipice?

You breathe into it. So deeply and profoundly that all the lives around you depend upon it, not just your own. You breathe loudly until it echoes into the canyons of souls awaiting redemption and understanding. You breathe incessantly until your breath becomes the breath of God.

Thinking God would love me more

Estranged from The Divine

Sheltering amidst the graves of my ancestors

For centuries before I asked

What did I have to prove?

There is no shame in darkness

Or the abyss that accompanies

The path.

The splendor of every tear

The magnificence of every wound

Do not be afraid to caress

The waters from which you ascended

The underworld from which you healed

And the light you so richly deserve.