What is sacred to me? What is sacred to you? Two different answers, always, is my guess. I am my own sovereign self, my own sovereign being. I just know that and feel that. I haven’t remembered this lately though. And to understand this, to feel this, is to be in the world but not of the world.
I’ve felt blocked, stymied, tired, spent, POWERLESS. I’ve been resisting, angry, irritated, squirrely. I could not WRITE! Thankfully, gratefully, this has shifted as I do re-member my sovereignty. No more resisting. I’ve had to let go, move through, melt and be re-shaped. I’ve been catatonic, un-inspired, shiftless. I have not been nice to myself! Sadness, tears, insomnia… I’ve felt all of you, I get it, I’m moving through now. Thank you. I’m realizing as I write this that it is all NECESSARY; I do believe one of my hardest lessons in this lifetime is how to BE with the ickyness, the feeling of being lost, of having no purpose, bouts of no self-confidence. I want to fight, stuff it down, forget about it, ignore it. Kids, don’t try this at home! Because it doesn’t work. I say this with confidence. Let me be your poster child for how much that DOESN’T work!
Many incarnations ago, my life came to a very abrupt and violent end. The physical carrier, the body for my soul, was enlightened enough, powerful enough to understand the magic of her (our) own soul. She needed her healing power magic to be preserved, protected, and safe; understanding with this foresight that this soul-family magic will be “un-earthed” in time, as it needs to make its way into the world again.
My clarity of purpose, my healing journey, comes from this. Moving through all of the emotions seems like a walk in the park compared to the struggles of my Ancestors. So I shift myself, my energy, my perspective out of respect for them. I was shown their power, influence and LOVE for me. I can feel them around me. It’s very humbling. Someone always walks before us.
With them, I feel moved to freedom. I feel moved to be inspired again. I feel the CONNECTIONS between tragedy, despair, hope and blessings. I feel moved to be kind to myself and live life on life’s terms, and to really accept that. If something feels really awful, it doesn’t have to stay feeling that way forever. Yet I have felt awful for many months now. So I will sit with deep respect and gratitude to all that is around me, helping me, seen and unseen, as I take in healing and blessings.
This journey that I’ve been on with the uninvited guest we’ll name as cancer, has left me feeling powerless, tapped, inept. Thankfully my healing explorations, experiences and trainings over the years have allowed me to cross the paths of some really incredible healers and magical beings. Like minded souls. Another Fool on the Journey. We all speak the same language even though we all speak different languages.
10 months of walking the Cancer Path with my husband as we work to release the disease in him. Sometimes we run, sometimes we crawl, sometimes have to sit and rest for a day or two before continuing on.
Where is the gift? Where is the joy? I often ask myself. Why is it all sh*t, all the time? The fog hasn’t lifted. What has happened to my life?
Fact is, life as I have known it has been forever changed. Forever. It’s taking me a long time to REALLY feel into this. This is what “life on life’s terms” means to me. It’s a really hard concept or feeling to grasp. I thought that’s what COVID was for- to remind us that life will never be the same again and things have to change- WE need to change in order to move forward into our new life paradigm. So what’s with the double-whammy, huh?! HA! Joke’s on me!
I like to make jokes because it helps me be friends with hard truths. My life “pre-cancer” needs to be mourned. And the hard truth is, that I have been resisting this, even if I didn’t fully understand it.
I realize there is so much power in the day. The gift is in life itself, every day. Just when I feel like the four walls are closing in and I can’t be where I am for another minute without exploding and raging, the magic comes back to remind me to RE-member. The energy of that incarnation all those lifetimes ago rises like a swelling sea, lifting me, moving me to shore. Somehow, I remember the gifts I’ve been given, I remember the magical people around me who are here to help me. Thank you.
I walk a little lighter now. My neck isn’t so tense now. I’m ravenously hungry as I write this, but these words need to come out first, because someone needs to hear them. I know I need to hear them, too.
It’s the gift. The gift of life. The gift of loving. The gift of loving someone so much that it seems unbearable to live without them here on earth. To know we are capable of such depths, moves me.
I recall the faces and expressions of well-meaning people who looked at me with sorrowful, doe-like eyes after listening to me expound upon my optimism of a bright future with my husband despite a dire diagnosis and prognosis. I eventually stopped sharing my POV, because it just doesn’t matter, does it?
It doesn’t matter what breaks me, because there is always the opportunity to become whole again. Remember the Leonard Cohen song, Anthem, “There is a crack, a crack in everything That’s how the light gets in.” It’s true. I’ve got so much light coming in me now, and I now there is more to come. I know on every level of my soul what’s to come, but I won’t dwell on any of that. It almost seems inappropriate or like I’m spoiling a surprise. I don’t want to deny any of the gifts being offered to me. I don’t want Santa to put me on the Naughty List.
I prefer to dwell on the gift of the present. It just FEELS better, so why not? The gift of the everyday is all around me: cuddles from a 90 pound dog who thinks he’s 30 pounds; snuggles from my cuddle-bug boy who tells really funny jokes; smiles from my daughter that simply melt my heart every day and I’m continually in awe of HER magic; and of course, hugs from my tall, handsome husband that make me feel every bit as loved and safe as they did 16 years ago. Messages from friends that love me and hold me sacred as I do them. The beautiful rain, the way it washes everything away. The vision of breath on a cold morning. Candles in the windows, a brightly lit tree with thoughtful, handmade presents underneath it already… These gifts matter. All of this COUNTS.
A Wise Healer said to me: Sometimes in order to know what our soul needs, we have to feel broken.
Well, hot damn. I think we just found a new Leonard Cohen.