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I ran as fast as I could away from the abyss until the unknown reached for my hand and held it tightly.
Restless and shaking in its grasp, my voice trembled as I screamed,
“What do you want from me? Let me go! Let me go!”
No answer from the void.
I writhed and squirmed trying to pull myself away but its tendrils had me bound to uncertainty, fear and doubt.
My cries went unheard by the gods, the trees, the mountains, and the rivers.
No one could be seen for miles.
Tears streamed down my cheeks and the silence became deafening.
That hand held me so tightly that moments seemed like lifetimes.
Until finally, a gentle voice called out to me.
“Why are you hiding my child?
It’s me, God. I’ve been holding your hand all this time.
So have the trees, the mountains and the rivers.
Even the sun, the moon and the stars.
You kept thinking you were alone in the darkness.
But we were all right here with you every step of the way.
Your screams and cries were heard and your tears wiped gently from your cheeks.
We called out to you a number of times, but you didn’t hear us.
We stood in front of you but you didn’t see us.
We held you but you didn’t feel us.”
I slowly shifted my gaze upwards and couldn’t believe what I was seeing.
I hadn’t moved from that very spot where I saw nothing but darkness.
Yet all I saw and felt now was love, surrounding me in many forms.
And then I knew, from that moment on, that there was a place for both amidst the gods.
And where there was one, the other would exist simultaneously.
God showed me it was my choice to exist with each of them peacefully.
I turned to God and asked Him to show me more. I wanted to know all there was to know about the universe. My fear turned into excitement, my dread into curiosity.
He reached for my hand again and gently whispered into my ear.
“Knowing everything will not keep the peace that I am offering you. Accepting the unknown that appeared before you heard my voice will.”
The abyss surrounded me once again, the unknown touched my flesh. But the hand of God was still holding onto mine. And all was right in my world.
Many of my sessions this week thus far have been focused on relationships.
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.
In Greek mythology a psychopomp is a supernatural creature or spirit whose purpose is to guide a soul who has just died to the afterlife. We die many times in one lifetime, aspects of ego and will, body and mind, ancient ancestors communing at the threshold of our passage so that they too, can evolve as sentient beings. We embody a myriad of lineages in our flesh and bones, not just the lineages inherent in our soul’s trajectory, but lineages across parallel realities that seek to serve a higher purpose. There is a sense of surrealism with each death, an altering of reality as we embrace a new one, an altering of a lineage as the sacred womb rises to give birth, life, healing and safe passage to those parts of us which need to die, which need to merge with a laden earth encumbered by human disconnect. Or perhaps those parts of us which need to ascend with the angels, a death absorbing grace as the Divine intended to the fullest experience a soul can have.
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.
She frolicked through solitude
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.
This is everyone’s battle.
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!
Drink from my cup
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
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.
New Year 2025
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!
Christmas
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.
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….
Winter Solstice
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.