My left thigh is tingling and warm

from soft kitten purrs, as loud as they are gentle

He refused to “say cheese” though

The room is cold, here in the basement

as well as quiet, dark and spacious

I can remember when this entire space

was filled floor to ceiling with miscellaneous

I feel connected to it in remarkable ways

And that’s just the basement –

My current home is remarkable

Home

I feel home

Everything feels like home right now

What a difference a few years makes…

I used to be in a bad marriage

I used to be a chronic enabler

I used to recklessly abhor myself

Just years ago…

Don’t get me wrong, and if you read my blog you know

Things aren’t perfect…

They truly are better than perfect

This is why

My unalome/wanderlust mashup tattoo

That is to say, what it represents

They joy of the journey

Remembering to appreciate, even the bad

Even when life is chaos and you can’t breathe

If anything, that got me here

At least from that self-deprecating behavior of my past

But it does go deeper

To a time before I new how to be happy

And only grace got me through that

Om, beloved Divine, quest of my heart

Thank you, thank you, thank you my sweet, sweet loves – my beloveds – my sweet love, my beloved, my endlessly cherished One

In all the ways my devotion has blossomed

I have been endlessly blessed

And if I had not strayed into the depths of hopelessness

Would I have ever known the true heights of bliss

At this time in my life, I am astonishingly aware of how blessed I am. Much of this sense comes from my connectedness to valuable and supportive communities. However, this hasn’t always been the case.

A Scared Little Girl

When I was young, I not only felt isolated, I intentionally isolated myself. I remember lying to my friends over the phone when they asked me to come over to play, “I’m grounded, sorry…” I often preferred the comfortable container of my bedroom and a book to the rambunctious laughter other children.

Even in reading though, I would shy away from fiction stories and narratives, feeling much more comfortable with the facts I could find in encyclopedias and other study materials. People confused and scared me. I felt awkward and unable to relate to the dialogues and interactions that seemed to come so naturally to everyone else.

I could argue that it was because of my limited exposure to society via my homeschool education and rural upbringing, but even among my siblings I was notably reserved. I had very little interest in doing things with my brother and sisters, often even setting out on my own if we were all forced to go play outside together. I never felt like I knew how to “people” right.

When I did try to communicate it was dry and stale. I would ramble off facts and logic akin to the types of books I read. There was no real substance, no vulnerability, no personal truth.

Growing Up Impressionable

Over the years my shyness and inhibitions morphed and changed, a tribute to the fact that I somehow always managed to befriend outgoing extroverts who couldn’t be more different from myself. I marveled at their ease of communication, their confidence and humor, and I became content to find myself in their shadows. My uncomfortability with attention peaked at my birthdays and I would often try to avoid having a party all together, having emotional breakdowns if I had somehow allowed myself to attempt participating in these social celebrations of myself.

I wanted to be invisible, unseen and forgotten. At least that’s how I thought I felt at the time. Attention was the enemy of my comfort, because I thought so very little of myself.

I would be an adult already by the time I learned how to assert my presence socially. It wouldn’t be at the internship after high school, or my first attempt at college classes, or even in the variety of odd jobs I took. Though I did become more comfortable expressing myself to smaller groups of my friends and family during these times, it was in simple and shallow ways. Finally finding my voice would first take completely losing control.

The Masks of My Delusions

I met my exhusband at one of the most vulnerable times in my life. As a young adult it was expected of me to have goals for myself, but I was completely uninspired and lost. I had come to doubt the beliefs I had been raised with and subsequently lost sight of all personal direction – I felt that nothing mattered anymore, and that absolutely terrified me.

I had decided that my lack of purpose and fulfillment must actually be a result of my lack of a romantic relationship, despite my having zero interest in pursuing a significant other at all up until that point. Sure, I had little crushes since I was in middle school, but was always outspoken about my belief that “love doesn’t exist, it’s merely lust, infatuation and obsession.” Interestingly, that’s exactly what I manifested in my marriage.

Sure, I loved him, but it was a love tainted by insecurities. I was caught up in the lust, infatuation and obsession that I had so diligently saught to avoid my entire young life.

Having come from my hyper-conservative background, I had swung to the other extreme, choosing the baddest bad boy I had ever met or could have possibly conceived. I was so naive to his world and his ways, I simply let him take the lead – and he lead me down a dark path. I became someone I didn’t even know I had the potential of being. I was his ride-or-die bitch and played the part well.

Manipulating Myself

That relationship, in all its volatility, helped me to once and for all shed the constraints of my father’s oppressive and controlling influence, but only in the sense that I had shackled myself instead to my ex’s delusions. I had gotten good at pretending. I had become an expert at being who I thought others wanted me to be, blending more and more easily into social situations or different kinds – but, I still had no real autonomy or self respect.

As horrible and demoralizing as things got, my ex was still the one who had to end things between us. I didn’t have the strength to stand up for myself. I didn’t have the nerve to try and be myself in the world apart from the labels and expectations of others.

I continued to mold myself according to what I was exposed to, turning to an extremely unhealthy friendship to create my identity as a divorcee. We dabbled in financial domination and played parts as sugar babies to manipulate men. Eventually our involvement turned into an even more unhealthy polyamorous relationship, but because of my lack of personal awareness, I was blind to the disparity of it all.

Reaching Rock Bottom

It wasn’t until that relationship ended and I finally saw my patterns of codependence, that I made a personal commitment to authenticity and began my journey back to myself. It hurt. I had to face the truth of all of my lies and manipulations, all the ways I had allowed myself to become a part of things that inherently diminished my spirit and tarnished my soul. It hurt, so deeply, and yet healed me completely.

That decision was made just 3 years ago. There I crumbled, with none of my delusions and distractions to comfort me any longer. I was stripped bare and made to take a long, hard look into my life and the whos I had allowed myself to become.

It was in that same moment that I began to recognize and reveal my truth. It started with the shame, the self-loathing and the pain. It started with the acceptance of exactly where I was in that moment, and all of my ugliness – but it began a cascading reaction throughout my entire life and eventually lead to where I am now, enraptured by my inherent beingness.

Learning the Meaning of Love

In these incredibly short but astonishingly full 3 years, I have learned how to forgive and love myself. This has in turn allowed me to truly love and forgive others. Ultimately opening the doors for a wellspring of true community and a sense of belonging I had never dreamed possible.

In rediscovering myself I remembered my magick, reunited with my twin flame and stepped organically into a small and humble, yet remarkably powerful coven of women who embrace their primal truths fully and gratefully. I found my local tribe of healers and gurus at my local yoga studio/healing center, where I began diving into the pursuit of my own healing and began discovering my love and skill for these practices. Then finally, just last year, I connected with my global tribe of world changers and master manifesters through my first Apotheosis retreat and set off the beginning of incredible friendships, mentorships and collaborations with people throughout the High Existence community.

Here, alone on my grandma’s couch; now, writing about my loneliness and struggles with identity; I feel incredibly loved, valued and connected by so many souls far and wide – and by my own precious soul as well. There is no where I could go that would cause me to feel separation and isolation ever again. Yes, because I have the love and respect of so many remarkable and inspiring people, but also because I have the love and respect of myself.

Opening to True Community

Community starts with ourselves. The way we treat ourselves, think about ourselves and limit ourselves inevitably effects our entire world and all the people in it. Creating healthy, thriving communities starts with focusing on our own health and wellbeing. Who we believe ourselves to be directly correlates to the communities we allow ourselves to be a part of.

I am so grateful I was able to make that commitment to authenticity just 3 years ago, and I am so incredibly inspired by the enormous changes that have taken place in my life since. I have better relationships with my family now and even my oldest friends; I no longer feel the need to guard myself from others or guard them from myself. By embracing my truth and becoming vulnerable with my own soul, I have in turn welcomed this high-level of authenticity and love into all relationships and every community I am blessed to be a part of.

That my beloveds, is real magick. We all have it – may you embrace yours as well. Blessed be.

It was a blessed day.

First official day off in months… And I did it right.

Slept in, went to both a Kundalini and a Yin yoga class (my sister taught the Yin class and it was extra special because I haven’t been officially been taught by her before), had lunch and caught up with a good friend I hadn’t seen in months and finally ended my day cuddling my sexy beau ❀

More post yoga glow

There were a lot of confirmations of my quantum jump too… Visions of my past self dancing in fields of wheat, her hair cascading down and around her as opposed to in a tight, efficient top knot, with a flowing red-polka dot on white dress instead of her usual rough rags πŸ™ It was incredible to witness such freedom and joy ❀ And also, watching TV and hearing actors and news anchors bring up quantum theory or their desire for accounts of more spiritual journeys 😍

My heart overflows with abundant, unrestricted bliss and gratitude ⭐

Sitting on the couch late this afternoon, I was taking a breath after our long trip into town for Amu’s doctor appointment, when I texted my sister:

A few minutes later I’m on my mat, going through the asanas of the Internal Balance Kriya. I listen to the Mool Mantra, one of my favorites, as I go through the awkward but invigorating movements.

The practice warms and relaxes me, but I also feel that delicious Kundalini activation take hold. As I finish and lay back for Shavasana I put on another favorite, the Ganesha mantra.

I sing along to the mantra for a few bars, feeling invigorated and light, when suddenly I remember information I read earlier today regarding the Akashic Records. Being in a relaxed and meditative state already, I decide to dip my toes into this new spiritual territory.

I begin with my intention:

With love, light and truth, I intend to access my Akashic Records to find the starting point of my aversion to discipline as well as the cause of my continual self-sabotage.

Immediately, my monkey-mind chimed in, “what are you expecting exactly? Nothing’s going to happen…” Yet, without missing a beat, my Watching Mind echos back: “sshhh…”

In that instant, I am on a road. A red, ruddy road, lined with wheat… And I am running for my life.

I am being chased. I have run away, desperate for freedom. I am an escaped slave.

I veer into the tall golden stalks, attempting to hide myself, but I am accosted by three men. Suddenly, I am aware of what happens next: I am about to die.

The men do not take me back to the plantation, but instead drag me into a small thatch hut… The same men and the same hut that just a year and a half ago I reexperienced amidst one of four past life death regressions I underwent during a deep, Binural Beats/Crystal Bed/Energy Healer induced meditation…

I didn’t need to go back into the hut today to know I was about to be raped, stabbed and then burned along with it. I chose to end the Akashic Reading and let out a broken and pained “thank you” before convulsing into sorrowful shuttering sobs.

What I experienced next was not something I had planned. I began to offer myself, this past incarnation, the gift of Hawaiian Ho’oponopono:

Thank you. I’m Sorry. Please forgive me. I love you…

Again and again, crying and gurgling, yet somehow still speaking the blesaings aloud… I became utterly overwhelmed with the loss, the pain and the betrayals against humanity I had endured as this woman.

This continued until I could breath again, the words gradually becoming calmer and steadier, until I could say them all with ease and grace… But I was no where near done.

Suddenly my mind returned to the hut, to my attackers and my gruesome death to come. Without thinking or questioning, I begin Ho’oponopono for my attackers.

Over and over and over, through tears and gasps as memories of memories flooded my brain. I could see their eyes, one with blue and one with brown, but I was transfixed by the man with the green eyes and fair freckled skin – the attacker that looked so strikingly kin to my soul’s current body…

The tears and sobs return evermore intensely and at times I feel as though I am choking on the words, but I bring them forth anyway. Staring into my attackers eyes, into the eyes of my murderers, as I am being raped and killed – and I am blessing them…

It’s harder, but eventually I can say it all to them with the same steadiness and resolve I gave to myself… And that’s when I jumped.

See, in previous encounters with this past life death, once I died I came up out of the first person experience to watch my dead body go up in flames with the hut as the men set it on fire with me inside…. I was also able to see a progression of my charred bones becoming a part of the earth as time simply continued on… But not today.

Once I had given my final, resolved blessing, my attackers vanished and Ganesha himself appeared in the hut. He scooped up my bruised, bloodied and broken body into his arms, carrying me out and away, into the ethereal plane.

I began to sing the mantra once more, for the first time becoming aware of my physical body as it is now, again. I felt as though I had sleep paralysis and was glued to my yoga mat, as well as a tingling sensation all over my body that I have only encountered before during intense guided Breathwork sessions at Apotheosis retreats… And another feeling too, but this one was completely different from anything I’d felt before.

My chest unlocked. I don’t know how else to describe it, but I’ll try to explain…

I’ve had an ongoing pressure at the top of my chest, between my heart and throat chakras, for as long as I have been becoming more aware of my body/mind connection. Despite yoga and pranayama, Breathwork and this-lifetime’s trauma work, it has never felt open – like there was almost a ceiling on my heart – and often it’s even been painful to try and breathe into that space… But today, it simply lifted and I automatically took the deepest breath of my life.

I am largely still processing all that I experienced and it wasn’t until I came across an article about quantum jumping that I began to make sense of the drastic shift that happened in the hut when Ganesha carried me away into heaven… Through engaging with my realities in this transformational and healing way, I’ve rewritten my timeline and changed this past life…

As far as discipline and self-sabotage, I do feel I understand now, at least in part, how this past life experience has been affecting me throughout this lifetime. I have been viewing discipline as opposition to my freedom, running from my own enforcement as though it seeks to enslave me again… But even more shocking, my choice to run for my freedom was a blatent act of “self-sabotage” that ultimately resulted in my death and yet, I have been proud of choosing a free death over a slave’s life… My self-sabotage, contrary to my previous suspicions, is not due to self-loathing or a belief of unworthiness but rather, it’s a point of pride…

Yea… Definitely still processing. I must say though, I did ask for it πŸ™