I woke up this morning at 7:30am and was calm. Much calmer than I had felt all day yesterday, and I dare say, calmer than I’ve felt in a while.

I had 30 more minutes of my dry fasting period before I could drink water and it’s Saturday, so I laid in bed with my snuggling kittens and got caught up on messages. Before I knew it, it was almost 9am and I was being startled back to my own reality when one of my best friends AND my boyfriend both messaged to ask how my first sip was… and I had to admit that I had forgotten all about it!

Reinstated Self-Control

Even when reminded, though the feeling of thirst instantaneously reemerged in my awareness, I remained calm. I didn’t dash straight to the sink and slobber up my refreshment as desperately as I had longed to yesterday – I didn’t even immediately get up! I remained and observed, curious about this new sensation of peace I was unexpectedly experiencing.

When I did get up, it was still in calmness. I kissed each of my kittens, pulled on my White Tiger onesie and brushed my hair, found my favorite water bottle and washed it – contemplated adding lemon as I usually do but then decided to stick with pure, unadulterated H20 before I filled it up… And even then, I didn’t drink. I went and sat down.

When I would finally take my first sip of water, it was already passed 9:30am. I popped the cap on my water bottle and slowly let the cool, refreshing and life giving nectar pour over my parched lips, feeling the sensation of refreshment consuming me as it cascaded down my tongue and into the back of my throat. It felt 100% erotic.

I may never drink water the same, ever again.

Rediscovering Sanctity

Having sacrificed water, even for just a day, has indeed helped me make it sacred. By withholding this most basic necessity for life from myself, I have become more fundamentally aware of my blessings and grateful for everything.

I feel astonishingly in awe of the technology I’m blessed to live with. The fact that this cool, crisp, life-giving nectar is available to me 24/7 at the turn of a nob is exceptionally wonderful. Yes, I have always *known this, but I feel I truly understand the magnitude of this fact’s significance for the first time in my life right now at 31 years old.

Prompt from my Question App today

Three decades is a long time to live without understanding one’s most basic blessings. Three decades is a long time to go without ever truly appreciating the sensual and nourishing qualities of water. It’s taken me my whole life so far, but I’m so glad to have finally gotten HERE.

Moving Forward into Deeper Layers

For now, I am reveling in the bliss and enchantment of simply drinking water, but I am sure to be feeling to the discomforts of abstaining from food in the next few days. There will certainly be many more challenges and discoveries.

I am feeling more confident and resolved than ever though, ready to break through the next challenge and the next. I’m excited for the lessons to come and invigorated by my short term success.

There is certainly a beauty to starting with the hardest challenge – I feel I have the strength to overcome anything now that I have faced my own biological fear of dying from thirst. If my mind can be an observer of my fear and pain in those most desperate moments, what can’t it do? If my heart can remain committed, if my soul will provide the grace – there is truly nothing that can intimidate me anymore.

Image: Facebook

Internal and External Graces

The change isn’t as simple as can be explained. It’s not just the renewed sense of confidence, or even experiencing romantic and sensual layers to the often ignored blessings of life – it’s so much more.

I feel an upwelling of grace. My ability to overcome, blossoming. Stagnation and densities breaking apart, both within myself as well as without…

It feels like magick. And why, my beloveds, would anyone ever choose to settle for less?

Remnants from a personal magick ceremony performed yesterday at the height of the Lunar Eclipse

Blessed be my beloveds! May you all be inspired to challenge your own privileges and conditioning as well.

Tears stream down my face as I sit cross legged and cross eyed in a room full of others doing the same. We’re all dressed in white and we’ve been doing Kundalini Yoga Teacher Training all day for the past three days. This is our last exercise for the weekend before a monthlong break.

It’s a short, “sweet” exercise my trainer smiles, radiating with an intoxicating yet unassuming grace. She guides us gently through the whole process, watching over us as she speaks: “begin in your most beautiful and regal meditation posture.”

Precise and Prescriptive

We sit patiently as she explains an exacting series of mental, third eye focuses and the silent mantra that we will be repeating throughout the meditation. “Now, draw your eyes down to 1/10th open, your gaze is on the tip of your nose.”

Most meditations and even exercises in Kundalini are done with the eyes completely closed, but as I’ve progressed to training I’ve come to enjoy this one. It has a remarkable disarming and balancing effect, allowing for a lot of clearing – and that’s just what I’ve come to know through my own, very brief experiences so far.

“The eyes focused at the tip of the nose causes the optic nerves to cross at the third eye. Thus it is easier to bring your mental focus to the Third Eye while the eyes are directed at the tip of the nose. Both the pineal and the pituitary glands and the area between them are stimulated by this eye posture, which has the effect of breaking old habits and creating new ones.”

Raviana.com

Taking Aim at Deep Pain

I get excited as I feel my mental defenses begin to shut down.

She then leads us through some corresponding Third Eye excercises, how they will be interspersed with breathwork and finally begins the meditation prompts. “Deep breath in, suspend the breath and bring to mind an encounter or incident that happened to you.”

My mind immediately rushes to one of my earliest traumas, something that has impacted my life greatly and haunts me daily. A memory I don’t care to think about that has also somehow still weaved itself into the very fabric of my heart and mind.

“Really?!” I hear a desperate whisper from somewhere inside of me but there is no stopping to listen, I’m locked into the meditation. The rhythms of the practice’s mantra and Third Eye patterns, the enchanting drishti (eye gaze) and my trainer’s reassuring voice all working together to help me unlock these very deep pains that just minutes before I had no awareness of.

Trusting the Process

We repeat the sequence. That’s when the tears start, flowing uninhibited from my eyes – yet somehow my gaze remains fixed and strong. I’m sweating, profusely, but I’m trembling like I am cold. I can’t even think much about these things though – my entire mental plane is consumed by the prompting of my trainer.

“Visualize and re-live the actual feeling of the encounter.” More tears, more sweat, more trembling. Repeat.

We are lead on a powerful journey, step by step. Switching roles with the Other in our encounter and remembering the experience from their perspective.

Rediscovering the Past

It was a shock. I wasn’t experiencing my expectations or assumptions about my Other’s perspective at all, I was experiencing their stress, their distractions and their fear. They had no awareness of how their pain was affecting me in the memory at all.

We complete the meditation by repeating the internal codes of sacred geometry and vibrations in silence again before we continue on to forgiving the Other and our Self. The cycling finally ending with our focus on “letting go of the incident and releasing it to the universe.”

We then go through the steps of closing out our practice for the day, but I’m still crying. I get a picture of the meditation from my trainer and thank her for the impactful weekend, she asks if I’m okay and I smile, still crying as I nod and say “yeah, just -” while motioning erratically around my head. She nods back silently and I am comforted to know she too has experienced the rewriting of her own history.

Healing with Patience and Joy

I sit on my mat, and cry some more. Another student comes up to ask me something and then realizes I’m processing and respectfully tells me we can talk another time. I smile genuinely at her too, as tears still fall from my eyes.

I returned to my regal posture as the room buzzed around me with everyone preparing to leave. Breathing long and deep I set my intention to clear the rest of my process so I can actually get home and another meditation we learned this weekend comes to mind.

This meditation incorporates celestial movements, mudras and arm movements in specific patterns, with a mantra that you recite outloud. It takes me an instant to decide to do it mentally so I don’t call attention to myself.

It’s a fun meditation for children to do in stressful times. Within maybe a just a few brief minutes I was beaming again, the tears completely gone.

“The mind become a monster when it becomes your master. The mind is an angel when it is your servant.”

Yogi Bhajan

I wrote this poem on Christmas Eve morning, my soul sick with processing decades of abuse and trauma, but ready to move on… Almost ironically, things came to a head in my family that night, with me standing up to an Uncle who is used to using his position in the family to intimidate and stagnate the rest of us. It would seem that by accepting the responsibility for my pain I have also stepped into a new place of inspired authority. I am fearless. All that I have been learning this year has lead up to this. Blessed Be.

My Dearest Tragedies,


I know I have no right to write, not after all this time – not after the pain I caused. I know you must think hell of me, for I remember hell too. I couldn’t see how I was hurting you, so desperate to make everything fit into my agenda. 


Please forgive me. I never meant to hurt you, but I was blinded by my own pain, doomed to fail you because of my own shame. Whatever I made you feel was a reflection of my own self-hate.


This isn’t to say that I’m all better now, I’m still struggling, a lot. Not a day goes by that I am not myself, forced to face to truth of all I’ve done. Yet, there is a grace that’s carrying me, through faith I’ve been brought beyond – not because I’m deserving, but somehow in spite of my own desperate plots.


Truly I wish you only blessings now, in all the same ways I have been blessed and more. Regardless of the way we left things, my hope is that you are lucky, loved and charmed. 


I’d say I’ve changed but it’s more like changing… I’m not sure I’ll ever be “done.” I hope you know what I’m trying to mean, in that language between words humans have almost forgotten. It’s true, this letter is only a vehicle for a communication much more pure – my sincerest hope is that you feel my authentic love, as tough as it may be.




My eyes are opening to the threads that intertwine – to the life in all the spaces that are empty of our Mind. I know that to fully function as a being of this Divine light I cannot withhold love anymore, even in the ways I’d justified before. This is my humbling and my quaking provocation, to prostrate myself before you for either acceptance or slaying.


Do what you will with me. I am still many things that deserve and require pain – but I am not afraid anymore for my own sake. My only woes are the divisions I’ve sown and the catastrophes I’ve made in attempts to be right.


My healing is nothing without the wholeness of our world. Without all of you, I am nothing but my own delusional tyrant and abused pawn. 


I don’t need you to agree with me, in fact, it’s better if you don’t. For all I’ve learned, the value of diversity has proven itself most potent. So go ahead and challenge me, I welcome your rivalry and competition – but I’m not playing to win anymore, if that means one of us is losing.


Blessed be, beloveds. I pray we meet again, and that at our next most fateful crossing we offer more help to one another than hurt.


In Sacred Unity,

mayryanna

I am sick. I’ve been sleeping most of the weekend, feeling unlike myself as cold and flu medicine circulates in my bloodstream. My fever broke but I still smell salty-sweet from my sweating. I’m wearing my shirt inside out for some reason…

My face is broken out and my eyes are glazed with that lost look of sickness. By all measures, I am not exactly desirable right now. Yet here I am, feeling totally, completely and fantastically loved.

Looking in all the Wrong Places

I haven’t always felt this way though, even when at my best. There have been countless times when I was well, fit and primed, yet still felt rejected, undesirable and unloved. It took me over 3 decades to discover what was available to me all along: love starts with ourselves.

See, back then – 2, 5, 10, 20 years ago – I was more concerned with what was “wrong” with me than anything else. Everything was a potential weapon I could use against enemy number one: myself. Of course I was the problem and if I could just look right, act right and be better everything would change.

Well, everything did change, but it’s not because I found some perfectly “right” way of being. I simply allowed myself to start paying attention to more than my fear and pain. I started to appreciate the love in my life instead of justify my rejection of it.

Coming Back to the Truth

I never needed to work out every day to be loved, but I tried to use my own self-worth against me to manipulate myself into doing just that. I never needed to push myself beyond my own boundaries to be loved, but I would sacrifice my integrity for any small semblance of external approval anyway. I never had to lose myself and become what everyone was told to want, but I was too busy listening to the chatter of desperation to tune into my own heart.

I had it all along, I was always loved, but I couldn’t accept it. I was never good enough, never deserving, and my life became a distorted version of who I thought people wanted me to be rather than the expression of my own unique divine existence. I had rejected myself, and from that place I couldn’t accept anyone else either.

The turn around came when I broke through rock bottom and found it was me running things with pitchfork in hand down there. I had to decide if I would keep feeding my inner hatred and disease or if I would endeavor to rise above, so I started climbing out from the pit of my own dispare.

Starting at the Bottom

It wasn’t easy; reclaiming my life would require sacrifice and strength. I would meet challenge after challenge, most from within, my thoughts and emotions seemingly at war with my intention. I had spent decades grooming myself into a victim and undoing all that conditioning is time consuming, and painful.

I wanted to become “the person I could respect most” in this world, and though I have always enjoyed personal development, I started to pursue my actual enlightenment for the first time. That was just over 3 years ago.

Making the Climb

Since making a commitment to authenticity in the summer of 2016, my entire life has changed, and that has included my understanding of love. What I was chasing for all those years was approval, not love. What I deprived of myself of in attempts to try and get approval, that was love.

It started with me, I was the one who decided that not being approved of meant I was unloved. I was the one who denied myself my own affection and care in order to try and manipulate myself into becoming something I wasn’t. And it has to be me who undoes all the damage too.

I am sure I will be continuing to deconstruct, heal and integrate what I’ve learned about loving myself throughout the remainder of my life. I find it absolutely vital that the time it takes does not matter though. I cannot allow myself to create new conditions for my own acceptance and love again, even if they “evolve” with me to sound desirable to my new world views.

Becoming Aware and Appreciating the Journey

You see, love isn’t a destination but a way of traveling. There is no prescription of behavior or belief that makes you more or less deserving of love, but what you believe about love will color every aspect of your entire life.

When I didn’t love myself, I didn’t love anyone else, and I couldn’t accept any love for myself from others either. Love was to be earned and well, no one is worthy.

But that’s just it. True love is a blessing that extends beyond justification and deserving. By opening myself to the grace and beauty of love’s power, I was able to overcome my own limitations as well.

Taking in all the Majesty and Splendor

I am still making this climb, I am still undoing the damage I did when I was desperate to force myself to be “ideal.” I don’t know how long this journey will take, and I don’t care. It’s all great now.

Here I am, feeling gross and undesirable, knowing I am loved. I have opened up and as a result my life has become filled with love.

I had over 150 messages on my phone to catch up on from this weekend – all from encouraging, inspiring and loving people I am blessed to know, from all over the globe. I have a generous and loving family, I’m close with my sisters, my mom, and my grandmother. I get to be a part of things I am passionate about and am no longer afraid to make people uncomfortable or be unliked.

I don’t need everyone’s approval anymore because I have my own. No, I’m not perfect, but I’m also no longer suffering the delusion that I should be either. I am better than perfect, I’m real.

Every Vista an Achievement

I’m not sure that there is a top to this climb, but there are innumerable views along the way. Wouldn’t it be sad to miss everything in a desperate scramble to summit?

That’s what I was doing for the majority of my life, more concerned with achievement than living. I never stopped to admire the speckled inclusions in my sensitivities or marvel at the expanse of my mind, I had been missing out on the immense passions of my heart for even the smallest of delights.

Now? I am enchanted, each moment a blessing. It doesn’t matter how well I do at something because I’m already proud of myself for trying. I no longer try to manipulate myself and my Self is very grateful.

It is in this way I feel I already have everything I could ever want. True richness comes in perspective and true wealth emerges from gratitude. No matter what my life holds, it will be blessed because I bless myself and others. No matter the challenges I may face, I will rejoice because the outcomes are less important than what can be learned.

I wish this freedom and joy for each of you. If you have been denying yourself your own love, decide to stop manipulating and do the work of repairing your heart. You have the power.

“Happiness is not having what you want. It is wanting what you have.”

Rabbi Hyman Schachtel

Blessed be my beloveds!

Another throwback poem transporting me back in time again – not too far and yet, this still feels like it’s from an entirely different life…

Saw your face unexpectedly
What a wicked Web to show me

You look older
Too old

I suprised myself with a physical reaction
Even more with my lack of mental connection

I’m getting there
Slowly

Strange that you still make me sick like this
Until I think about the way you’d kiss

Body tense
Closing

I can’t say that I miss always feeling distance
Still, I can’t help but notice your absence

Anxieties lifted
Weightless

I’m not that much younger, but I look it
You don’t seem so cold, but I lived it

Wearing our pain
Recompense

You’ve chosen to live a shallow life, your bitterness gleaming at the edge of your eyes and wrinkles carving your anxieties into the surface of your skin
My pain has been digested, sucked deep down within the darkest and dampest parts of my soul – I may seem niave and ignorant, but I’m no longer trying to prove what I’ve had to know

You’ve already forgotten me
The real me

Sometimes I think I have as well
Until I remember what you did to me

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Some people are only weak until they have a reason to become stronger
You underestimated me
I believed too much in you

Yet

Seeing all the age you’ve taken on in the short time we’ve been apart
Makes me think something deep within your heart’s still screaming for me to help you

It would seem that by hurting me, you’ve only succeeded in killing parts of yourself