#Daybreak #writephoto

daybreak
Photo Credit: Sue Vincent

Peace arrives upon the horizon of stillness

and the slow letting go fades into the night

We are creatures of the moon and the sun

howling through the winds and the rain

lashing at fears often unfound

we seek the light as though it were

illusive. Stretching our filaments in surrender

the body breaks open to become the sky

The mind, woven in wonder gives way

to the passage. And the voice, that howling

gnashing voice screeching to be heard

becomes the wind. And you

and I, we become the one

crimson wrapping gold

and everything in between

our ocean of light softly surging

and collapsing into the fold

we rock to the music of stars

and find that we were never

forgotten

 

For Sue Vincent’s #writephoto prompt #Daybreak

An Ego’s Stream of Consciousness

Sometimes I crave a glorious battle

To rage and wage a war with another

But to what end? To inflict my pain on

the other whom I believe has caused it?

To even a playing field that has been

trampled on one side? Then we can be

equal in vengeance and strife. Equal

players in the game of justice. To achieve

peace inside. Fool, I say, you harbor

malice for no purpose than to starve

love. The light inside dims to hatred

the desire to show another who is

right and who is wrong; who is better

or worse; who deserves glory when

what you really want is more love

Look inside. Shed the armor. Who

are you protecting? Why do you hide?

No one can stop your light from shining

except the darkness of your own demons

The Body of Night

IMG_2531I enter the dark body of night to heal. To recover the parts of me that have been lost to fear over lifetimes.

I’ve always enjoyed putting together puzzles. The more intricate and mysterious the art of creation, the more I am drawn into the process of discovery. I have found no better place to build the puzzle of self than at night, where I can slip into the inky abyss of darkness where everything exists. It can take some cunning and a good dose of courage to find what I am looking for. Night is the place where veils dissolve, and the landscape of the soul is laid bare. It is the place where mysteries blinded by the sun become tangible when we are brave enough to extend our grasp into the black abyss.

Each dream that unfolds through Night becomes a path with a promise of a gift, or many if we can find them hidden amid the shadows. The dreams that cause the greatest tremor of emotion within our “sleeping” form, often hold the most sought-after treasures. I have learned to love nightmares, for they lay bare those pieces that lurk in the crevices of self, which can only be found after putting the easy and obvious together. They are the stuff of the inside that likes to hide, deceptively camouflaged within an unassuming palette. Yes, it is these gems I know seek, for each piece recovered brings me closer to the whole self that is Love.

Love. That is, after all, what it is all about. This quest we are all on. It is said that to love another, we must first love ourselves. I believe that the more fully we love ourselves, the more fully we love others. I believe we can only love in others, what we love in ourselves, and when we are able to accept and unite those aspects of self that are mirrored uncomfortably in others, we finally achieve the whole self that is Love. When we do this, we are loving not the fear in the form of anger, injustice or abuse, but the aspect of universal self beneath it that we all share. The piece of self yearning to be whole that was once love/loved is still, in essence, love.

Now when I discover a piece of self that has become disconnected over (life)time(s), and has forgotten love in favor of the energy of fear, I rejoice. My dreams are a tool, they work with me, taking me down the paths of self-recovery. They lead me to the source, where the hand of fear tries to hide the light. The clues to how I got there are always found in the scenes. Past lifetimes are revealed with vivid faces, costumes and languages I have not encountered in this lifetime, interwoven with a present-day landscape. It is not my job to judge, but to accept. It is not my task to hold on, but to effortlessly let go. I am brought here to seek, to find, and unite into love. I have learned that our fears do make us stronger, when we accept them with understanding, release the energy that traps and reunite the lost love.

 

 

 

Orange

orange

When you look at the color orange, what do you see? Years ago, before I started working with the chakra centers in the body, I wrote a poem about an orange and compared it to love. Here is the poem, in revised format, with the essence still intact:

Orange

Love should be
like a ripe orange
before it is peeled. Thick,
heavy, sweet

When you turn
its bumpy surface
in your palm, there is
no beginning
no end

Love is the color of the sacred “womb” that resides inside all of us. It is the place where we grow our creative and sensual selves into being with the fire of our soul. The color of passion and love manifested in the form of our unique gifts, it is always present, yet sometimes hides.

I have been thinking and writing a lot about orange these days, as I rebirth dormant gifts held inside the second, or sacral chakra that vibrates in this hue. Rarely do I wear this bold color that tends to overwhelm my complexion, but there I was in a lovely boutique last Friday, buying a dress adorned with orange flowers.

orange flowers on dressOn Saturday I peeled sweet potatoes, carrots and gingers and cooked them into an orange soup. We are drawn to the colors that want to bloom inside of us. There is a reason why our bodies and senses crave certain palettes. I cook with orange to kindle the fire that hides in my belly. Today, my eye is drawn to the flames that warms my house as I nibble the flesh of mango and write, my orange dog staring me down, waiting for her walk.

Rosy, the orange dog

The Sifter

the sifter

It appeared to me at the end of a dream last week. I held the large metal sifter in my hand as I surveyed the boxes of artifacts from my past on the floor of my childhood basement. The sorting and discarding was finished, or so I thought. But, left in my hand was a sifter. What do I do with this? I wondered.

When I dug out my kitchen sifter to take a photo for this post, I noticed how similar it was to the one in my dream. As I studied the metal holes and edges, I realized this sifter, although cleaned after last use, was holding onto debris stuck stubbornly to its meshwork. Instinctively, I started to scrape away at the stuck residue with my nails, then stopped. There’s always something left behind, lingering, isn’t there? Whether it is an actual artifact we can feel through the caress of our fingers, or a memory tucked into the folds of our brain. When we clear the clutter, it never really disappears.

It can only transform. Before my dream of the sifter, I had spent weeks sorting through past fears. Have you ever noticed how the Universal Spirit has a way of kindly dumping a load of our fears at our feet, not one-by-one in a gentle fashion so that we might lightly skip over them, but in a pile so large we have no choice but to notice it? We have no choice, but to make a choice.

We can try to climb the pile to get over the top, then down the other side, but chances are if we do this, its jumbled contents will cause us to trip or fall. We’re likely to get hurt and bruised with the effort, and the pile is still there, slightly less neat, waiting behind us.

Another option is to bury ourselves inside of it and hide. The task of sorting being too over-whelming to accomplish, we simply let it enclose and crush us. How many people do you know who look like they’re carrying the weight of an invisible world on their shoulders?

Years ago, before I started healing my past, I realized it was no fun to carry my fears with me all of the time. It not only weighed me down, the effort made me physically ill. So, I started sorting and shedding. I’m still doing it today. That’s what I was doing in the weeks before I saw the sifter in my dream.

It started with the uncomfortable weight of fears presenting themselves in various daily circumstances. Not fun, it never really is. But, thankfully, I’m learning to take a different perspective on these periods of learning that Spirit sends to me. Ah, ha! I say after I get over my state of grievance (lengths may vary ;-), It’s time to shift! Lets do this!

Yep, that call for sifting is a cue to us that we are ready for a spiritual shift. Our soul is calling us to release a particular burden of fear and transform it into light. So, after I grudgingly accept this (again, the length to time it takes me to do this often varies :-), I now say, Bring on the joy! I’m ready to receive!

The end result of first sifting through our pile of fear, then shifting it into light, is joy! We have now opened ourselves to receive more of the Universal Source of Abundance, that I call the Light of Love, Joy and Truth. Let me give you my most recent example:

For weeks I played with my little demons called fears. In my daily life challenges, and in my dreams, I worked with shifting the energy that clutched my heart and throat, going to the source of the pain, and bringing it out to light. It wasn’t fun, playing with this last patch of fears.  As I sifted through them, they brought me back to my childhood in this lifetime, they brought me way back to distant past lives. They danced in my dreams and I woke up to a heart thumping with exertion.

I even shifted the energy in my home, with the help of a gifted friend. I burned clutter that was weighing me down, asking the fire spirits to transmute its energy. I rearranged and sorted, nothing too drastic, but all with the intention of bringing in more “light” and abundance.

As the shift started taking effect, the metaphorical pile, with its bulky weight, lightened, transforming into a path of abundance. 4 crows and a hawk appeared in the sky while I walked, followed days later by an unexpected surprise in my email box. WordPress had Freshly Pressed one of my erasure poems. I was pleased, but didn’t hold on too tightly to the tether of hope, instead I released it and a few days later my inbox was flooded. 400 pages views in one day on a single poem (I was lucky to get 10 before), over a hundred likes, numerous comments and reblog notices appeared, and the flow has continued with each day. My audience has grown by hundreds, without any direct effort on my part. I simply cleared the clutter abstracting the path.  I brought in more light.

The Gifts of Night #dreams #sleep

I used to go to sleep with Fear. When I was a child, I would check the shadowed corners of my room to see if a ghost, or some other unwelcome presence, was lurking there. Three glances for each corner, then I’d quickly tuck myself into bed, pulling the sides of the covers like a cocoon around my head with only my face exposed so I could breathe. My army of stuffed animals stood guard around the perimeter of my bed, yet my heart would often race my frantic thoughts to sleep.

More than the dark, I was afraid of what was hidden inside of it. I was raised with the belief that ghosts were not real and a fear of the dark was irrational, but my fear was real. It stayed with me long into adulthood and has diminished only over the past few years. Before it left me, Worry started moving in to take its place. Since Worry is a companion to Fear, it merely took the upper hand of an already present relationship.

Instead of fearing “imaginary” ghosts and demons, my mind played with Worry. As many of us do, I re-worried past events, going through the day’s circumstances that caused frustration or other unpleasant emotions within me. Instead of letting the past settle, I dug it back up and resisted sleep as I sifted through what I could no longer retrieve. Sometimes, I’d move into the future, creating a world of what ifs and maybes, mostly centered around the emotion of worry.

As I learn to live more fully in the present, I have find it easier to leave Worry and Fear behind when I tuck myself into bed at night. Most nights I go to bed with feelings of relief, gratitude, and expectation. In the soft cocoon of darkness, nestled under my covers (I still tuck them around my head, some habits stick fast), I welcome the unimpeded drift of the mind.

The veil that Ego grips more tightly during the day quietly dissolves at night when our minds drift into the intermediary realm that occurs before sleep takes over. In this space, Spirit moves freely and, when we are open to it, we travel and commune with beings from other realms often overlooked during the daytime. It is a time, I believe, filled with magic.

Art by Karen Kubicko
Art by Karen Kubicko

If  you are used to going to sleep holding the hands of Fear and Worry, try releasing them. Welcome instead the gentle embrace of Love. Imagine what wonders you will find!

Bringing Light to N. Korea Meditation

I love Diana Cooper. In her latest newsletter, she offers a wonderful meditation to help lift the fear-based energy that is causing so much tension in N. Korea. I’m including the link to it below. It doesn’t take much of your time, and uses the wonderful energies of the fire dragons and unicorns. By interchanging the leaders/persons, you could also use this meditation in other situations around the world, or even in your more immediate environment, to help lift the energy toward love/light.

http://www.dianacooper.com/diana-and-you/newsletter-archive.php?id=139#K

In Peace,

Alethea

 

 

Earth: A Love Story

When I was a child, I would lie on the ground with my face to the sky so I could feel the heartbeat of Earth. In those quiet moments I felt the gentle pulse of energy that radiates from the body of our planet rocking my cells, as I stared at the expanse of sky above me. It brought me peace and comfort, and, at the same time, filled me with an awe of my “small” place inside this vast womb we call home.

Some days you can still find my flat on my back, gazing into the atmosphere. Have you tried it? I hope you have. I hope you will. In our over-industrialized culture we often forget the source of our life force, choosing to drive through our days inside the fog of technology. We hardly stop to think of the impact on the Earth and ourselves as we strip the land of its resources to add speed and “comfort” to our days. We can do this because Earth is a forgiving mother. She keeps feeding us, she keeps offering her oxygen for our breath, and she continues to quench our thirst with her reservoirs of water.

Earth: A Love Story

Yet, when we allow ourselves to observe the body of Earth we see that we have stretched her belly to the extend that she has well-exceeded her capacity to carry a healthy womb of life. We have contaminated her waters, air and soil with our waste, so that not only is her health compromised, but the health of all of her children. Just as a fetus is affected by the nutrients (or lack of) a mother takes into her body, and by the toxins she ingests, so too are we affected by the conditions of this womb of Earth we live inside.

I didn’t set out to preach in this blog, really, I didn’t. Rather, I set out to make a plea for a collective understanding. You see, for me this is a love story. A love story between our planet and us. And some days, like today, I am reminded that it is still taking a very tragic turn. When I logged onto Facebook (no, I’m not denying that I am also slave to technology) this morning I was greeted by a wonderfully beautiful testament to Mother Nature in the form of a friend’s painting. And, I was also greeted by a shared video of an island filled with dying albatross, whose bellies are bloated by our indigestible waste. The bellies of some are so filled with junk that they cannot harbor viable life. How many more decades, I wondered, will I be looking at these heart-wrenching images? How many decades can we afford?

Nature's Love by Karen Kubicko
Nature’s Love by Karen Kubicko

When will we collectively awaken? When will we heal this mother that gives us life, and, in doing so, heal ourselves? We can start by feeling her heartbeat inside our own. Everyday.

Community

This is the word, or concept, that keeps appearing to me when I think of the shift of human consciousness that we are experiencing. The word community has two basic meanings. It can define a group of people living in one geographic area together, or it can represent a population that shares the same values. I think the true definitive though, melds the two.

With our myriad of technological devices and options for connecting to others that seem to negate geographical distance, no longer is there such a need to physically exist in a shared space. Space, in a sense, collapses when we open up our Facebook walls, connect to our loved ones through FaceTime, or send a text message on our cell phones. With the push of a button we are instantly brought together. Or are we?

Although I have found these methods of connection limiting, I have slowly come to embrace them. There are moments when I sit alone on the couch sending out my words, or reading the messages of others, when I feel the lonely pull to physically be with the people I am connecting with through the internet. No amount of blogging of FaceTime can replace the energy of a group of people sharing a space, especially when that space is filled with their collective joy.

So, while I cherish the ability to easily connect to friends and family who are not living near me, as well as the opportunities I have found to form bonds with individuals I have yet to met in person, I can’t ignore the void created by distance.

I am sure I am not alone in my sentiments. What does this mean for our evolution? How will we successfully collapse time and space to share in this new era, which some people call “The Golden Age.” I think some of us are discovering that it is not enough to seek community through the airwaves.

Of course, travel too has become easier and more efficient over time (perhaps not the more recent time), enabling us to move to places where we can find shared values and beliefs. I have a good friend who, through circumstances beyond her control, moved, and found that she and her family landed in a community that was wonderfully suited for them. So much so, that it seemed predestined.

I, myself, often feel the over-whelming tug to hurry time and finish the space I am building inside my home, which will allow me to more easily host gatherings of people who seek a community of shared truths. We are not, after all, a solitary species. Humans, by nature, thrive and multiply through shared love.

Yet, I think, sometimes we forget this. Just as a child will suffer the physical and emotional symptoms of neglect in an orphanage, so does the individual who shuts herself off from interacting with others, or chooses to interact with people out of shared pain rather than love.

When we seek community, or choose not to, it behooves us to examine why. Jealousy and a strong competitive drive can cause us to be drawn to others who appear to have less, or in some way make us feel superior, therefore feeding our fears of not being good enough. Sometimes we are so consumed with our own toxic love-affair with pain that we can’t help but shut others out.

If you don’t know if you are attracting the right community, ask yourself these simple questions: Do my “friends” or family bring me happiness? Do they lift me to joy? There is, after all, nothing that matches the collective vibration of love.