3 December 2011
It's hard, yes...
and scary.
But, don't lose heart.
It's not over yet.
It is far from over.
It's hard, yes...
and scary.
But, don't lose heart.
It's not over yet.
It is far from over.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
Journey to Annali
Down through the tree, feeling the strength, the tightness all round me.
The roots, wet, spongy, soft, cold.
Out into the dirt, not to the river, but still in the dirt.
Worms, bugs, still in the dirt.
Snake comes.
'Snake.' say I, 'What have you to teach me, Snake?'
'Please show me my daughter.'
Back in the field.
She is there in the middle of the field.
Scared, alone, frightened, shivering.
Wants warmth, just needs warmth.
Sun, love, without expectations, so frightened.
Elemental, basic, life.
Nothing else matters.
So scared, so lonely, so frightened of being alone, cold.
Just hold her, just hold her.
'Snake. Tell me how to love my daughter.'
'You know. You know how to be a mother.'
'What do you do when she is frightened?'
'I hold her.'
'What do you do when she is lonely?'
'I stand beside her.'
'What do you do when she is angry?'
'I let her be angry.'
'You are not her anger. You are not her feelings.
You are not her perception of you.
You are not your perception of yourself.
You are more than all that.
It is safe to bear her anger.
You will still be whole.'
She is sitting across the fire from me.
They sing and dance around her.
She is confused, frightened.
Her son, my grandson,
eyes bright, laughing in their arms as they dance.
'Sit across from me, my daughter, while they dance and sing.
Hold my eyes, stay with me, don't run, stay, stay.
I hold the space for you.
Your son is okay - he knows them, he dances with them.
Hold my gaze, stay with me.'
Combing her hair, touching her, washing her hands, spiritual cleansing;
Healing.
They are healing her.
I am not allowed to participate;
must sit and watch;
bless, hold the space, watch, witness;
Never break from her gaze,
Never.
The roots, wet, spongy, soft, cold.
Out into the dirt, not to the river, but still in the dirt.
Worms, bugs, still in the dirt.
Snake comes.
'Snake.' say I, 'What have you to teach me, Snake?'
'Please show me my daughter.'
Back in the field.
She is there in the middle of the field.
Scared, alone, frightened, shivering.
Wants warmth, just needs warmth.
Sun, love, without expectations, so frightened.
Elemental, basic, life.
Nothing else matters.
So scared, so lonely, so frightened of being alone, cold.
Just hold her, just hold her.
'Snake. Tell me how to love my daughter.'
'You know. You know how to be a mother.'
'What do you do when she is frightened?'
'I hold her.'
'What do you do when she is lonely?'
'I stand beside her.'
'What do you do when she is angry?'
'I let her be angry.'
'You are not her anger. You are not her feelings.
You are not her perception of you.
You are not your perception of yourself.
You are more than all that.
It is safe to bear her anger.
You will still be whole.'
She is sitting across the fire from me.
They sing and dance around her.
She is confused, frightened.
Her son, my grandson,
eyes bright, laughing in their arms as they dance.
'Sit across from me, my daughter, while they dance and sing.
Hold my eyes, stay with me, don't run, stay, stay.
I hold the space for you.
Your son is okay - he knows them, he dances with them.
Hold my gaze, stay with me.'
Combing her hair, touching her, washing her hands, spiritual cleansing;
Healing.
They are healing her.
I am not allowed to participate;
must sit and watch;
bless, hold the space, watch, witness;
Never break from her gaze,
Never.
Soul Retrieval
2 April 2011
I knew I needed to reach into the pain to heal
So, I journeyed to learn what to do to heal.
At the tree, the angel picked me up
and carried me through the tree.
She put me together again at its base.
Everyone was there, White Wolf close to me,
Crone by my side,
But, I was a small girl, 5 or 6.
Crone took my hand, the angel close behind,
and we walked through the field,
but the door caught my attention.
I went to the door and realized what was inside.
I was frightened, but knew that it must be me
who opened it.
Finally, I gathered the courage and stepped inside.
It was dark and dank.
Deep in the corner, I saw her.
She was emaciated and grey.
I was now a woman.
I stepped forward to touch her.
She smelled and her countenance was repugnant.
I reached out to her and she placed her bony fingers on mine,
cold and hard.
I was standing over her and realizing that, squatted down.
I told her that I loved her.
I shared my love with her.
But then, I became frightened and ran;
I was, again, the 5-year-old child.
I surfaced at the tree.
Then I saw myself at 12-years-old,
skinny, funny glasses, long-blonde hair,
in love with animals and nature,
wearing a stripped tank top and shorts,
and searching, already, for wisdom.
We started talking.
She said I was old. I laughed.
She was asking questions.
I told her,
'You are seeking wisdom. You will look in the Bible.
You will read there words that are not true.'
'But the Bible is true!' she exclaimed.
'Not all Bibles. Remember they are written by humans
who make mistakes.
The one you will read will share untruths with you.
They will wound you deeply.'
'But why?' she asked. 'Why would they lie to me?'
'Because, you are different. That difference scares them.
They will try to force that differentness out of you.
And, you will believe them, for in your innocence
and your search for wisdom,
you will accept without question.'
'The battle thus begun inside you
will be for the very life of your soul.'
'It will tear you apart, and manifest
in this life as a firestorm, burning
those closest to your heart,
shattering everything in its presence.'
'It will bring you to your knees.'
'And from it, you will spend
your remaining days
healing,
learning,
growing,
into that which you are to be
in this life.'
Incredulous at these words,
the 12-year-old that was me
stood firm in her faith that
this could never happen to her,
and in her belief that she
could fulfill her quest
to find wisdom.
I knew that it was she who could open the door.
So, together we went back.
She opened the door without hesitation and saw
the broken one crouched in the dark corner.
She approached, impervious to the wretchedness,
heart full of compassion and unadulterated love.
She feels no fear. She has a profound, solid faith.
She is strong, of heart and of soul.
I looked upon the figure in the dark and saw it was the 12-year-old.
Then, the little girl appeared.
She was frightened by the figure in the dark.
But, the 12-year-old, once again in her own body,
encouraged her.
'It's okay.'
We all left the dark of the closet and walked to the field.
the broken one felt the sun warm her body;
the children gave her water, she was so thirsty.
But, she wasn't healing.
Then, we knew what we had to do.
The 12-year-old said it.
'We need to enter her body, the little girl and I.
And then, all three of us need to enter you.'
'Together,' she said, 'we can heal her.
I will bring her strength and faith and courage.'
The child showed us a ball of white light in her hands.
'I', said she, 'can bring the light.'
And I, the elder, can bring some wisdom.
The girls entered her.
I saw the light, tenuous and flickering,
and knew they couldn't do it alone.
So, I joined the three with myself.
Together, we can heal her.
The angel lifted me, carried me through the tree,
and left me standing beneath it;
reveling in the warm sunlight;
feeling the light shining inside me.
Gratitude and wonder.
The Kundalini energy rising from my root chakra;
my body gently buzzing;
energy pulsating everywhere;
my hands buzzing.
'Welcome back, my darling.
I love you.'
-------------
5 April 2011
Ever since I merged with the torn part of my soul, things have changed.
I am immensely sleepy, but not an emotional exhaustion, just a gentle, sweet tiredness.
It feels as if it is a tiredness that can be lifted with time and honor and simple love.
There is also an incredible compassion flowing through my veins.
A different awareness.
A sense of wholeness.
A feeling of authenticity.
It is like eternity touched my shoulder
and left a sparkle.
I knew I needed to reach into the pain to heal
So, I journeyed to learn what to do to heal.
At the tree, the angel picked me up
and carried me through the tree.
She put me together again at its base.
Everyone was there, White Wolf close to me,
Crone by my side,
But, I was a small girl, 5 or 6.
Crone took my hand, the angel close behind,
and we walked through the field,
but the door caught my attention.
I went to the door and realized what was inside.
I was frightened, but knew that it must be me
who opened it.
Finally, I gathered the courage and stepped inside.
It was dark and dank.
Deep in the corner, I saw her.
She was emaciated and grey.
I was now a woman.
I stepped forward to touch her.
She smelled and her countenance was repugnant.
I reached out to her and she placed her bony fingers on mine,
cold and hard.
I was standing over her and realizing that, squatted down.
I told her that I loved her.
I shared my love with her.
But then, I became frightened and ran;
I was, again, the 5-year-old child.
I surfaced at the tree.
Then I saw myself at 12-years-old,
skinny, funny glasses, long-blonde hair,
in love with animals and nature,
wearing a stripped tank top and shorts,
and searching, already, for wisdom.
We started talking.
She said I was old. I laughed.
She was asking questions.
I told her,
'You are seeking wisdom. You will look in the Bible.
You will read there words that are not true.'
'But the Bible is true!' she exclaimed.
'Not all Bibles. Remember they are written by humans
who make mistakes.
The one you will read will share untruths with you.
They will wound you deeply.'
'But why?' she asked. 'Why would they lie to me?'
'Because, you are different. That difference scares them.
They will try to force that differentness out of you.
And, you will believe them, for in your innocence
and your search for wisdom,
you will accept without question.'
'The battle thus begun inside you
will be for the very life of your soul.'
'It will tear you apart, and manifest
in this life as a firestorm, burning
those closest to your heart,
shattering everything in its presence.'
'It will bring you to your knees.'
'And from it, you will spend
your remaining days
healing,
learning,
growing,
into that which you are to be
in this life.'
Incredulous at these words,
the 12-year-old that was me
stood firm in her faith that
this could never happen to her,
and in her belief that she
could fulfill her quest
to find wisdom.
I knew that it was she who could open the door.
So, together we went back.
She opened the door without hesitation and saw
the broken one crouched in the dark corner.
She approached, impervious to the wretchedness,
heart full of compassion and unadulterated love.
She feels no fear. She has a profound, solid faith.
She is strong, of heart and of soul.
I looked upon the figure in the dark and saw it was the 12-year-old.
Then, the little girl appeared.
She was frightened by the figure in the dark.
But, the 12-year-old, once again in her own body,
encouraged her.
'It's okay.'
We all left the dark of the closet and walked to the field.
the broken one felt the sun warm her body;
the children gave her water, she was so thirsty.
But, she wasn't healing.
Then, we knew what we had to do.
The 12-year-old said it.
'We need to enter her body, the little girl and I.
And then, all three of us need to enter you.'
'Together,' she said, 'we can heal her.
I will bring her strength and faith and courage.'
The child showed us a ball of white light in her hands.
'I', said she, 'can bring the light.'
And I, the elder, can bring some wisdom.
The girls entered her.
I saw the light, tenuous and flickering,
and knew they couldn't do it alone.
So, I joined the three with myself.
Together, we can heal her.
The angel lifted me, carried me through the tree,
and left me standing beneath it;
reveling in the warm sunlight;
feeling the light shining inside me.
Gratitude and wonder.
The Kundalini energy rising from my root chakra;
my body gently buzzing;
energy pulsating everywhere;
my hands buzzing.
'Welcome back, my darling.
I love you.'
-------------
5 April 2011
Ever since I merged with the torn part of my soul, things have changed.
I am immensely sleepy, but not an emotional exhaustion, just a gentle, sweet tiredness.
It feels as if it is a tiredness that can be lifted with time and honor and simple love.
There is also an incredible compassion flowing through my veins.
A different awareness.
A sense of wholeness.
A feeling of authenticity.
It is like eternity touched my shoulder
and left a sparkle.
It's Still Not Over
Crying, crying
all day
can't stop the tears
They flow from me
like a dam broken.
But it's not a dam really.
It's my heart.
Course corrections
watching, observing
trying to learn
trying to adapt
trying to be creative
to go with the flow
to try different things
to be 'up'
to stay 'up'
to 'hold the line'
to 'keep on going...'
Hoping for a break
but it just doesn't come.
Like a thief in the night,
it alludes me,
tantalizing me with dreams of possibilities
and smashing my heart
with those same dreams
now leaden and dark,
stripped of life and breath.
breathe, breathe, breathe
turn the corner
take another step
it's not over
it's far from over
all day
can't stop the tears
They flow from me
like a dam broken.
But it's not a dam really.
It's my heart.
Course corrections
watching, observing
trying to learn
trying to adapt
trying to be creative
to go with the flow
to try different things
to be 'up'
to stay 'up'
to 'hold the line'
to 'keep on going...'
Hoping for a break
but it just doesn't come.
Like a thief in the night,
it alludes me,
tantalizing me with dreams of possibilities
and smashing my heart
with those same dreams
now leaden and dark,
stripped of life and breath.
breathe, breathe, breathe
turn the corner
take another step
it's not over
it's far from over
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)