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Category: Musings of a Mystic

Find Your Water and Flow

Find Your Water and Flow

Moab, Utah ©Dylan Mattina, 2018

 

Everybody has a little bit of the Sun and Moon in them.

Everybody has a little bit of man, woman, and animal in them.

Darks and Lights in them.

Everyone is part of a Connected Cosmic System.

Part Earth and Sea, Wind and Fire, with some

Salt and Dust Swimming in them.

We have a Universe Within ourselves that mimics the Universe outside. None of us are just black or white, or never wrong and always right.

No one. No one exists without polarities. Everybody has good and bad forces working with them, against them, and within them.~

~Suzy Kassem

 

Fire, water, air and earth; all necessary for life as we know it. As a water sign, I tend to flow with circumstance. Neither one to be overtly confrontational or flighty, I observe, listen and only speak when I am absolutely sure my thoughts are in order. Watery landscapes are familiar territory for me and I quite like living in the flow of this element.

 

My last post quoted a Hopi elder asking “Where is your water?”. Water can shape a landscape by simply flowing around and sometimes through rock that obstructs. This flow may take millions of years with the end result being a breathtaking canyon. Water can be incredibly strong in the gentlest of ways. Never underestimate the power of water.

 

What in your existence gives you life?  Is it a spiritual practice, family, friends or even a creative pursuit? You must know the answer in order to be fulfilled mind, body and spirit. Without this precious element, flow will be disturbed, and life will be bumpy, dramatic or flighty. When the same challenge is constantly rearing its ugly head and you wonder why life must be so hard, ask yourself this question.

 

Consider approaching the challenge from a different perspective. If you have tried to be forceful and are not getting the result you desire, flow with the situation. Observe, listen, learn and gather your new perspectives. If you are like me and do a little too much flowing, consider activating your fire element and testing out the fiery side of your personality…in measured doses of course. It will take some time to find the correct balance specific to you.

 

Do not shy away from darkness in this venture, it is vital to the understanding of self. In order to appreciate joy, one must walk the shores of despair and swim in the tides of grief. Then and only then can joy be given breathe as seen by the sun in the sky above. Even when drowning in self-doubt one can see this distant light, a beacon of possibility. It may seem terribly far, and you might be tired from the journey. Allow the water to carry you through your grief and sadness and towards this light. There is no shortcut, one must walk the shoreline for as long as it takes.  

 

My water has always been writing and my faith. They nourish me in every way by providing strength when the current gets too rough. As I continue walking down the shoreline, I wonder how many more twists and turns the path will take. I see the stream and know that under the surface strong currents and undertow await.  I often picture myself floating above the depths, the cool wetness lapping at my sides and the warm sun in my eyes. Water caresses every cell in my body and light lifts me higher. As I float, all the many difficulties that linger below seem so far away. I am weightless, and the journey is effortless in this moment.  Find your water and flow.

 

Still Wandering And Still Lost

Still Wandering And Still Lost

Hovenweep Ruins Trail

A Hopi Elder Speaks

“You have been telling the people that this is the Eleventh Hour, now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour.  And there are things to be considered . . .

Where are you living?

What are you doing?

What are your relationships?

Are you in right relation?

Where is your water?

Know your garden.

It is time to speak your Truth.

Create your community.

Be good to each other.

And do not look outside yourself for the leader.”

Then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, “This could be a good time!”

“There is a river flowing now very fast.  It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.  They will try to hold on to the shore.   They will feel they are torn apart and will suffer greatly.

“Know the river has its destination.  The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above water.   And I say, see who is in there with you and celebrate.  At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, Least of all ourselves.  For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.

“The time for the lone wolf is over.  Gather yourselves!  Banish the word struggle from you attitude and your vocabulary.  All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.

“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.”

 

-attributed to an unnamed Hopi elder, Hopi Nation

 

Driving into Monticello, Utah after having been at Hovenweep for two days was like an assault on my senses. Hovenweep was a mystical place, devoid of obnoxious noise and city lights. The Milky Way and shooting stars painted the night sky, displaying the vastness of the universe. The only audible noise was the gentle breath of the wind against the canyon walls and the swoosh of wings from birds above. It was the closest I have come to peacefulness this entire trip.

 

The clouds rose every afternoon as if fluffy cotton balls shooting forth from the mesa. Monsoon rains could be seen approaching miles away and in one instance were escorted by a rainbow giving spectacular color to the tumultuous weather. An unexpected electrical storm the first night lite up the entire mesa revealing secrets in the blackness of night. With the ruins close by, any separateness I had felt from others disappeared and was replaced with an embodied lightness felt deeply within.

 

Hovenweep Ruins Trail

 

As my time in Hovenweep began to near completion, the outside world began to knock at my door. It began as a gentle knock with a few emails and phone calls and progressed to a young child’s temper tantrum with escalating business issues disturbing my peace. The only safe space remaining was outside. I could walk the campground next to the ruins, look at the dynamic sky and regain peacefulness if only for a few moments.

 

“We will be known forever by the tracks we leave.” – Dakota

 

Upon arriving in Monticello to attend to some much-needed RV housekeeping, I felt the jolt of the unwanted all too quickly. Not only was I back in Utah, the home of some unfortunate memories, but the RV park was right next to the only road through town with constant traffic. The icing on the cake was a dog barking all night. Yes, Monticello felt like the Van Nuys of Utah.

 

Staring at the map and considering possibilities, I was struck with a feeling of anxious awareness. I have been wandering for the past two months and feel more lost than ever. I certainly have experienced a good number of enlightened moments, but these in no way have given breathe and depth to a greater awareness. What is left is a lingering feeling of being completely lost.

 

 

I am not naive enough to believe one trip will produce revelations powerful enough to change my life in drastice ways, but I guess I was expecting something more tangible. I can’t help but think of what my life will be like when I return to Southern California. I had planned to stay in an RV park for six months or so while figuring out the where and what of my next chapter. Now the thought of living shoulder to shoulder with other travelers is not appealing. I need space to breathe, space to ponder and space to just be. National Parks have been ideal for this type of contemplation but are not a long-term solution when considering my current work life.

 

Wolf Creek Pass, Co

 

The question becomes, how does one extend the glow of open space and fresh air and insert this feeling into a constrictive office space with four walls. I am lost as to how I will proceed. Juxtapose this against other personal challenges, and all I see is confusion, gray where I had hoped there would be vivid colors.

 

Maybe it is within my wandering ideals that I have missed the mark. No matter what natural beauty is approached, I still must find the beauty and calm within myself. No amount of external prodding will assist me in this task. As the Hopi elder states, I must let go of the shore and keep my head above the water. I thought I had already let go simply by releasing my material hold on the world but have now realized letting go involves so many layers of self. I am in the middle of the river with eyes open, yet still struggling to swim.

 

My work now is to face this transition with an open mind and heart without giving in to a persistent inclination to withdraw further into solitude. As the Hopi elder says so well, “we are to take nothing personally, Least of all ourselves.  For the moment that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.” While I still require a fair amount of quiet, I cannot remain isolated forever. My walk in the woods has always been a temporary proposition. This too shall end. It is so important that I see this end as a beginning and find joy in all that a beginning allows.

I offer the possibility that we are all wandering home in our own way. It is a slow and tedious stroll that requires patience, resilience and compassion. I miss home so very much, this place I cannot define but know exists. This world is so harsh on the senses and so ugly at times, a difficult place for a sensitive spirit such as myself.

I suppose accepting the wandering and confusion is just a part of the package when living out a life contract. When my journey reaches an end as it will, I hope to finally understand. Then and only then will I be able to say with confidence, I was always right where I needed to be.   

 

Ancient Spirits

Ancient Spirits

 

I walk with spirit, strong and fierce

Each crack of thunder, light does pierce

Souls of those wandering long ago

Traces of energy as if arrows to a bow

 

One moment the valley is quiet in repose

The only sound witnessed, the squawk of the crows

Suddenly wind dances and spirit beckons

Drawing in those who dare to reckon

 

The mesa stands, resolute as before

As if, representing a historical door

Breathing in the air, lungs holding life

Stone to a hearth, bone to a knife

 

Storm clouds billow from the crest of hills

Ancient spirits painting with time honored will

This place is forever present, no matter the map

Spoken in the rumble of each thunder clap

 

-Lavinia Busch, 2018

 

Mesa Verde. What words can one speak to paint a picture worthy of the actual? It seems trite to write about a place that speaks and sings as if teaming with life still today.  The storms roll in and can be seen miles away in all directions. The ravens playfully squawk, taunting all those who venture this sacred ground. The sun playfully kisses the tops of the mesa and the moon shines with a silver beauty reserved for ancient souls and brilliant spectacles of light.

 

I could stay in a place like Mesa Verde and be content for the remainder of my life. The dynamic energy is humbling and begs to be explored, not superficially as a passing tourist might. This place is a living, breathing organism and would take a lifetime to understand if only in some small way. I am certain that given the opportunity, I would listen intently to the sky and hope to hear what it has to say.

 

Returning to Los Angeles fills me with a deep sense of melancholy with the knowing that Mesa Verde lives on. Maybe this is the way the ancients felt, leaving the majesty of these cliffs and the intimacy of these rocks. I understand that thumbprints remain on some walls after having been smoothed by ancient builders.  What I would give to rest my finger upon this ancient graffiti and feel the spirits of long ago.

 

I suspect if given the opportunity, I might find a kindred soul among the ancients. Being one who has never felt of this time, the intimate relationship between people, land and spirit speaks to me as no other place has. How can one return to the bustle of city life, rush hour traffic and the disease of busyness? For the moment, I plan to soak in all this place has to offer in the whispers of the wind and the painting of the sky. I will imprint the memory of this place until I can return once again to walk with the ancients.

 

Walking the Lonely Road

Walking the Lonely Road

 

With all the celestial happenings of this summer, one would be hard pressed not to have great anticipation nearing the end of this cosmic tunnel and welcoming the return of lighter energy. Going into the depths of self-evaluation and introspection can be arduous and exhausting work. I for one am awaiting this end with bated breath. Cooler air brings with it a break from the heated lens of the moment both literally and figuratively.

 

The long, winding roads and rolling hills of this area speak to me as if the answer was always right here, waiting to be discovered. The hills say, “Lavinia, you must walk the lonely road with a beginner’s mind. No promise will be made, and the destination may never make itself known.” My hope was for some direction, a giant celestial foam finger, pointing me in the correct direction. This recent revelation is disheartening and quite intimidating.

 

With a sense of humor, my guardian angels have instead let me know I must walk this lonely road ahead, for as long as it takes. No final chapter has been written and no conclusion is in sight. I am acutely aware of the persistence that is now required of me. The wind is my partner, protecting, directing, sheltering and sometimes correcting me. No matter how much effort I commit to traversing the questions, I may never find the answers I seek.

 

Herein lies the dichotomy. The road to nowhere becomes the road to everywhere simply in bearing the footsteps of a weary seeker. It is so easy to get caught in a need to know mentality. Mysticism gently teaches once again, this simple road may be all I am given, the rest is up to me. The experiences gathered along the way become the destination. The questions become the answers.

 

What courage it takes to face each day with a willingness to question, seek and learn. The beginner’s mind is forever a seekers mind and one I aspire to inhabit with much commitment and vigor.

 

I continue to pray for protection from guardian angels as I walk into the loneliness of this eternal road, forever searching, forever seeking. Stretching on and on into oblivion, the peacefulness of this eternity is comforting, the repetition of this task daunting.

 

Take a few steps each day, no matter the hesitation, on your own lonely road. Let the wind walk beside you and your angels above you. I will meet you when our roads converge, be it in the near future or in the eternity of forever.

 

Nothing is Ever New

Nothing is Ever New

 

“We invent nothing, truly.  We borrow and re-create.  We uncover and discover.  All has been given, as the

mystics say. We have only to open our eyes and hearts, to become one with that which is.”

–   Henry Miller

 

Sitting at the base of Devils Tower in Wyoming, I feel as insignificant as one could. As important as I believe my existence to be, looking at this great monument puts things in perspective very quickly. The igneous rock making up this formation is millions of years old. These millions set aside my age, demonstrate geologic opposition placing us both in stark contrast.

 

Many times, I have felt out of step with the world, as if having been here before. An old soul perhaps, or maybe just with an awareness that does not allow one to get caught up in the day to day grind without considering the greater meaning. Devils Tower does not make any statements nor share any philosophical approach. Devils Tower simply is and has been for many, many years. Once again, the simplicity of existence is laid bare.

 

It is far too easy to get caught up in ideas, thoughts and plans. It is far too easy to forget life is so very short. It is far too easy to fall victim to illusions and supposed realities and it is far too easy to forget who we are and of whence we came.

 

This place is sacred and as such the energy is palpable. Without thinking, I speak with a whisper, listen closely to the wind and bow my head in gratitude and respect. This place demands a certain dignity as a powerful spiritual vortex. Native Americans have been making the pilgrimage to this tower for thousands of years around the summer solstice. I am woefully behind on this account but find myself in good company.

 

If there is anything to take away from this visit, it is that nothing is ever really new. Not an idea, thought, belief or otherwise. Things are only discovered as one is ready and willing to receive. It is heartening to imagine the many who have contemplated existence in this same location and feeling their energy sustains me. The wind speaks here, if one is only willing to listen.

 

My challenges and joys will pass as is proven by the persistence of this rock. One must not get too caught up in the worry or planning of an abbreviated life. No matter how much is done, this life will come to an end much sooner than expected. It is in the more important soul work that emphasis should be placed. Are we living a life of service and loving one another while leaving a gentle footprint on this precious planet?

 

Sitting here in the early morning, listening to the chorus of crickets and birds welcoming the day, I ponder what my words might accomplish. Any feeling of separateness from others is alleviated by the weight of this tower.  I am just one person, one voice. When my time comes to leave this place, I pray my voice will be heard by at least one lost soul.

 

Spending time becoming one with all else, I move one step closer to this end by removing illusions one creates in defining a life. Leaving a small part of self on the meandering hillside below the tower, a prayerful connection is made with those who have taken this same walk before. We are one in the same, in all things.

 

 

Benton Hot Springs

Benton Hot Springs

 

The Wind Speaks

Crickets sing as the veil of darkness descends

Sun and moon dance together, with no need to defend

Silence surrenders as the silhouette of a moon remains

Softy the wind speaks, all else abstains.

-Lavinia Busch, 2018

 

 

I can breathe once again. My soul feels the weight of all that is heavy being lifted and my heart sings with joy. It is one thing to proclaim a letting go of unnecessary obligations, yet quite another in practice. The logistics of this transformation have been suffocating and at times so confounding I thought myself crazy.

 

Now, a few days after setting down the road of the new, I sit here typing in a place of arrested beauty rather than decay. Nestled between Mono Valley and the vast emptiness of Western Nevada is a place that has ushered in a serenity long in the making. In what can only be labeled an old dilapidated ghost town resides nourishing hot springs for weary souls. The geothermal activity that fuels these deep wells results in a healing tonic of mineral water, fresh air, open valleys, mountain views and a quiet reserved only for the most spiritual of places.

 

As the sun set in the evening, the heat of the road and the long day of travel melted away.  Hypnotized by a crackling fire and a chorus of crickets, the warm water lapped against my skin with a smooth touch. Clothing is optional in this place and as one might expect, I have not been fully dressed since I arrived. The weight of conforming has been lifted and my skin is breathing a deep sigh of relief.

 

“I, the fiery life of divine essence, am aflame beyond the beauty of the meadows, I gleam in the waters, and I burn in the sun, moon, and stars …. I awaken everything to life.”
~Hildergard of Bingen. (11th century)

 

Absolutely nothing brings one closer to self than communing with the natural world on its own terms.  This place has settled my anxious mind and soothed my restless heart. Quite a feat given the preoccupations of late. I hear the wind speaking to me as if to say, “Breathe in, breathe out…you belong here.” The trees seem to hug me as they gently sway in the softness of this system.

 

After a restful night, I begin the morning by floating in the hot tub listening to the rustling leaves as the sun stretched its rays between the branches. The most glorious natural piece of art appears as the light dances among all else, a symphony of spectacular beauty. I could stay in this place forever, if only the world could stop the constant beckoning of the busy. The hot springs have been rejuvenating in reminding me of this connection. The trees do not compete to see who has the strongest and best-looking branches…they just grow. I too must remember, I am enough simply because I exist. My life has no binding rules, expectations or constraints unless I allow them.

 

Just as in the natural world, I must continue to forge a balance between obstacles and my true self. The trees are confronted by all types of elements, yet they continue to thrive by stretching their limbs to an ever-clear blue sky. Each one is beautifully unique and impressively resilient. I leave this place knowing how important resilience will be moving forward. Let the trees be my inspiration and my salvation. Listening to the wind speak among a gallery of natural wonders, the message is clear. Breathe…just breathe.

 

Find Your Magic

Find Your Magic

 

 

The Day Sky

 

Let us be like

Two falling stars in the day sky.

 

Let no one know of our sublime beauty

As we hold hands with God

And burn

 

Into a sacred existence that defies –

That surpasses

 

Every description of ecstasy

And love.

 

Hafiz

 

Life is funny. Everyone hopes to be seen in some small way. Moving through life feeling invisible is such a state of separateness, debilitating to both heart and soul. The dichotomy being we are all “seen” each and every day just by being ourselves. Lest we forget when dwelling in the space of obscurity, being here right now is profound and creates a spectacular energy. We are all a bit of magic, pixie dust, elemental and soulful. Our desire to be “seen” has already come to pass simply by being in this moment. There is nothing left to be gained, we are given all we need and will ever need.

 

It is so very easy to forget what a miracle it is to live this very human experience.  How fortunate that yet another day of a messy and unpredictable life is upon us. Many leave this world far too early, a sober reminder of the value of life despite the many peculiar and sometimes unforgiving detours it may take.  

 

 

“If a man is to live, he must be all alive, body, soul, mind, heart, spirit.”

― Thomas Merton, Thoughts in Solitude

 

 

How do we best live with this knowing? I believe the only way to honor this universal connectivity is to be true to self and share this truth with a loving heart. Living in a modern and fast paced world, the simplicity of this becomes blurred in the busyness of a task-oriented lifestyle.  The ease in which we forget our magic is astonishing. As in the zombie movie trend of late, we are all the walking dead unless we stop to really “see” those around us.

 

 

“Many of us have made our world so familiar that we do not see it anymore. An interesting question to ask yourself at night is, What did I really see this day?”

― John O’Donohue, Anam Cara:

 

How do we see others? Stop this culture of busyness and breathe into your life. We are all wonderfully unique and a rainbow of precious personalities. I simply adore the weirdness, quirkiness and uniqueness of everyone I meet. As a subject of the human condition, it is perennially fascinating to hear stories, observe interactions and get a sense of another. Each time I do so, I learn more about myself in the process.

 

You see, in this magical tapestry, threads of myself are intrinsically woven within the seams of all else. I cannot help but marvel at the complexity of these interconnections. Be it the way someone catches my eye, speaks to a friend, walks to the store or holds a child close. Both the light and darkness of another have gifts of self-discovery if I choose to look closely.

 

Take a moment and look for the beauty in others. See the rainbows of colorful energy and honor what you see reflected back at you. Just as a mirror gives face to name, so too does the act of “seeing” another as part of self. Look for what is familiar and what is not. Remind yourself how absolutely special you are in your very own configuration. Don’t let anyone take ownership, criticize, assign blame or look down upon you as you are meant to be. Find your magic and carry it with you always. Shine brightly.

 

Dreaming My Way into the Next

Dreaming My Way into the Next

 

“Yes: I am a dreamer. For a dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.”

― Oscar Wilde, The Critic as Artist

 

It is often in the most heated of summer days that one feels the need for utter surrender to all that is being held back. Emotions simmer as the final days of summer vacations, pools and adventure draw to a close. Being on creative leave from work,  I find myself vacillating between an uneasy anxiousness and a building excitement of the unplanned. Gently, I remind myself this time has been granted so I may let go of the burdens of the typical and allow creative forces to guide me to the unexpected, a logistics free zone if you will.

 

The difficult aspect of this place is that my thoughts, the constant narrative in my mind, continue to barrel towards the typical. The tug of all sorts of responsibility is ever present and it takes “work” to let go. It is only in the dark of night and in my deepest of dreams where a momentary respite is found. As one that has always dreamed, I find that the messages of purpose and direction are flooding my sleep as if a tsunami of suggestion. Avoidance of such messages is always attempted, but alas I am unable to resist the call of my intuition.

 

Dreaming is never just a downloading of useless information, but rather a convoluted storyboard containing information my psyche is begging me to hear. Dreams can contain morsels of suggestion that are meant to be heeded and applied in daily life. Sadly, I often reject what I have seen. I am one that has learned many lessons the hard way and have paid the price for my refusal to listen to spirit.

 

“There is only one thing that makes a dream impossible to achieve: the fear of failure.”
Paulo Coelho

 

 

In the heat of a summer night, with the new moon and Venus caressing one another, I sense a quantum shift has begun and feel a bit helpless in the midst of such tumultuous celestial activity. This shift has been in the making for some time with many experiencing great change in all aspects of life. This is no easy transformation, on the contrary it has been quite painful at times. Having deep wells of emotion bubbling under the surface, I find myself teary and completely overcome by the onslaught of this atypical energy.

 

I have no shame in stating my current emotional temperature. What troubles me is the persistent awareness of things looming yet not discovered. This foreshadowing has built to a spectacular crescendo and all I can think of is when will it be over. Yes, I have many dreams, hopes and aspirations; some of which I tremble to say out loud. I dream of writing. I dream of finding others who are moved by my ideas and I dream of wide open spaces, nature and solitude.

 

I understand that by speaking my dreams out loud, I must make a choice to move in their direction or stay frozen in a sea of contradiction and worries. The simple act of speaking my truth somehow provides strength and hope in making decisions that are otherwise uncomfortable. Along with these truths, I would be reticent to ignore the other elephant in the room, my self-confidence. By stating my dreams and listening to my intuition, I honor the Divine within me. This builds layer upon layer of confidence over the heaps of “not good enough”  that have littered my subconscious for years. It is exceptionally difficult to move past the stories we tell ourselves. If not careful, I easily fall back into untruths that subtly smoother me in thinking I am less than. It is only in my deepest of dreams that relief is found, if only I pay attention.

 

In the approaching dog days of summer, I commit to making every effort to listen for the messages meant for me. I promise to believe in myself and dream BIG! Nothing is ever achieved in the status quo.  I allow myself to bloom by being beautifully different, embracing all that is unique about myself, while forgiving missteps along the way. No one is perfect, but the critic speaks from a position of judgment and it is a choice to silence that beast. Lastly, I chose to swim freely in the depths of my dream world and explore all that resides within. The shift beckons and I will follow.

 

The Full Moon Speaks and I Listen

The Full Moon Speaks and I Listen

Art- Jonathan Solter

 

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don’t go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.

Don’t go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the door sill

Where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don’t go back to sleep.

-Rumi

 

Looking out the window, all I see is goodbyes. A sense of lingering lasts being rustled away by uncertain firsts. Being well familiar with long goodbyes, the feeling is still unwelcome. The winds of change have been a constant, yet more like turbulent storms instead of gentle breezes. Reinvention is a dear friend; the kind you wish would not stop by unannounced. It is terribly difficult to only see unknowns, a blank canvas.

 

On the eve of yet another full moon, I have agreed to step out of the life I know and into the unknown. Never one to do things small, the looming storm clouds of change are rumbling above. As with any electrically charged storm, I feel the hair standing up on my arm alerting me to pay attention. “Listen to the moon speak”, it says.

 

My work life is shifting with a six month creative leave. What a blessing it is to be able to move at my own speed, no rushing from one fire to the next. Stepping onto this blank canvas requires letting go of everything I know and facing the storm head on. I must leave my overpriced townhome, pack up my belongings and live like a nomad for a while. As a Cancer and homebody, this is excruciating. My home is my sanctuary and I cling to it always. It is no mystery that this move is taking place on a full moon, in the month of July and with a bevy of celestial shenanigans happening at the moment.

 

Dwell as near as possible to the channel

in which your life flows.

Henry David Thoreau

 

This shift also calls for faith. Financial security, while a falsehood, has always been something I struggle with. Living in relative poverty for so long, it is difficult to let go of an imagined security blanket. Frightfulness is the only word that comes to mind. Once again, the full moon is speaking. A profound letting go is required with the belief that all will be well. This is not just a letting go of material items, but emotional wounds, fears and insecurities. All WILL be well. It will be stormy for a while, but the sun will shine again.

 

My children are also on the move with my daughter moving with her long term boyfriend and my son in a beautiful relationship and moving forward with his life goals. Once again the full moon speaks. No matter where I travel, I carry them in my heart. Love does not require being in close proximity, love is universal and boundless. I am so very proud of how they have grown into such beautiful souls. It is time to let go of the need to “be close by” and fly.

 

Whatever you can do, or dream you can, begin it.

Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.

Begin it now.

—Goethe

 

Finally, Dylan and I have agreed to take this journey together. An unsigned contract with two souls entwined. We offer support for one another and are willing to stand in the middle of the storm, holding each other tightly. Each with our own scars, our own work to do; but together we are stronger. As Goethe writes, “Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it.” Dylan, we must be bold now. We must face everything with an open heart and mind and be gentle with each other’s wounds. We must listen to the full moon speak and keep stepping out into the stormy winds of change. It is only when facing the storm that one is blessed with the rays of light shining through the clouds. We have many sunrises in our future and that is something beautiful to look forward too.

 

Let your full moon speak and choose to listen. The moon is wise, intuitive and ethereal. Bath in the light and be quite. What does it call you to do? Is it time to take that leap of faith?  Listen and believe all will be well. Face the winds of change with a brave heart and a calm mind. 

 

For My Children: Move to Your Own Music

For My Children: Move to Your Own Music

 

FOR ANY DAUGHTER/ FOR ANY SON

Do not let yourself be blindfolded early on.

Do not accept harsh or kindly lashing, slashing …

even when it is called “traditional,” “required.”

Do not be lulled by sensations…

soft velvet wrapped around your head

will blind thee nonetheless.

Do not hide behind, “It can’t be bad,”

“It’s not that bad,”

“No real harm’s been done. . .”

Do not try to convince yourself by bargaining,

“See, they’re such exquisite velvet blinders. . .

a cut above the usual.”

Be wary of “doing what we do here,”

“doing as we have always done.”

Withstand grinning Death in his many disguises;

he will promise fleeting excitement ,

a once a year glory in exchange for forfeiting

your one precious and wild life forever.

Do not pour salt

into the earth of your mind

and expect lilies to grow there.

For us, resistance is ceremony.

We are the proof that the soul’s truths

transcend the oldest time-honored lies.

 

“For Any Daughter, For Any Son” by Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés

 

Nothing feels stronger than the tug of tradition, an incredibly magnetic pull toward the past. Traditions are an important part of any family story. What would we be without those that have come before? That being said, it is important to understand that we have no obligation to take ownership of what may not be meant for us, including our family traditions. We flex our courage muscle each time we resist doing things as they have always been done as opposed to listening to our hearts and moving in that direction.

 

Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes writes, “Do not pour salt into the earth of your mind and expect lilies to grow there.” Breathing in these words, I experience an instant release of the unwanted. Salt is an abrasive yet essential mineral for life. The metaphor of a mind filled with this life mineral, yet unable to blossom, is powerful.  Why not sprinkle salt and leave some room for the lilies to germinate? After all, beauty is discovered only by giving breathe to an otherwise constricted way of being.

 

Resisting the status quo can be difficult. By its very nature, resistance can be insidious.  If I wish my daughter and son to be strong minded yet gentle hearted, I must let them forge their way into this role even if their path differs from mine. Who is to say one way is the only way? Walking through life with a different cadence does not dishonor.  It takes many cadences to create the beautiful music of a symphonic variation. One cannot possibly bloom if trying to walk, act or behave as everyone else.

 

The harsh words of the critic will sound, seeing all that is different and speaking to these differences without permission.  Forget what you hear and see. As Dr. Estes writes, “For us, resistance is ceremony. We are the proof that the soul’s truths transcend the oldest time-honored lies.”

 

The following thoughts are for my beautiful children. My wish for them is that they continue to honor the voice within and dance to their own music, no matter how different it may be. Dance my loves and live fully.

 

Know your truth and honor it with every action and thought. Be freely and unabashedly yourself and revel in knowing that no matter the outcome you have lived life on your own terms.

 

Be brave and circle your on wagons as need be. Bravery is hard fought each time you face a fear that is not yours to hold. Toss out the ceremonial makings of the expected and dance a new war dance of your own. Listen for direction on the winds of change and let the breeze elevate your soul.

 

Face hardships with a humble heart and know that this life was not meant to be easy. Everyone, no matter how they appear, has experienced darkness bringing them to their knees. It is only face down in the dirt that one can finally let go of all expectations, inhibitions and unwanted observation by committing to the blooming of a beautiful soul.

 

Let go and flower into the sun, dance in the wind and smile broadly. This life is such a beautiful and precious gift. Remember that each new day is filled with possibility no matter what obstacles you may experience.

 

Smile at your troubles, laugh during your hardships and release the fear of the unknown. Silence the voices and refuse to change the music of your own drum. It is only when being completely self that life unfolds as it should.

 

Love unconditionally. Love those that make you uncomfortable, love family that you do not understand, love strangers that appear odd and love those that argue for the obscene and confrontational. Approach all with love in every instance. Think before you speak and hold your tongue if you do not trust what might be said in haste.

 

Do not acquiesce to others but simply send them love as you move in your own way. Try not to hold hate in your heart. Hate is a darkness that will take root and strangle the bloom before it has seen the sun.

 

Finally, dance. Dance to the music in your heart and the soothing sounds of the universe. Feel the rhythm of your day as if turning pages on a score. Balance moments of excitement with moments of repose just as an allegro meets an adagio. Feel joy in your body and do not be ashamed by this. Jump into the freedom that comes from moving your body in your own unique way. Embrace the oneness you experience in this movement and cherish the togetherness of body and soul.

 

Dance your way through the hardship and heartbreak and continue to listen to the music of your heart…turning it up loud. Be simple in your complexity, an open book that sits on a shelf waiting for those that wish to read you. Stand in honor of this authenticity and refuse to back down. Never forget, you are a beautiful soul and deeply loved.