The Ever-Present Guide that is You

sunset-1815991_1280
Photo Credit: Pixabay

There was one workshop at the fair  I attended last weekend that I found to be truly genuine. The speaker wasn’t trying to sell us anything other than the belief in ourselves. He was an unassuming man. A geriatric physician dressed in understated clothes. He had no props, not even a poster. It was just a man beyond middle-age, standing before us talking about death. And life. Mostly life. Life that goes on despite death. That inner Life that is ever-present but not often heeded amid the cacophony of every day “life.”

He had pretty much seen it all. As a caregiver of the elderly, this sixty-five-or-so-year-old physician had born witness to many a death, but also the transition stages before the body dies, and to people who had “died” and come back to life. Despite his work experiences, the doctor was not there to convince us about any specific type of afterlife, instead he was there to demonstrate that we all have an essence within that is never lost.

An essence that comes from the place of a wisdom and greater knowing that many of us choose to forget to access. As a proponent of meditation, the physician did nothing more than demonstrate the inner wealth that can flow from a mind stilled into the place of greater knowing. There is no cost, but much to gain.

It was a breath of fresh air.

Thousands of individuals had flocked to that fair over the course of its two days, and my guess is that most were seeking some sort of outer validation, a special elixir to fix what ails them, or a message from outside of them that they could, if they chose to, find the answer from within.

The night before the fair, I had a dream. I was in a room with a healer who told me three things. First she told me that my body needed more calcium and magnesium, and then she demonstrated how I could energetically heal my thyroid. When I told my husband the next morning that I needed more of these two minerals in my diet and why, he laughed. “At least you’re listening to someone.” You see he knows how stubborn I can be, and he also knows how wise the body is. The wisdom we seek is always within, we just need to learn how to listen to it.

The answers I seek or need often come to me in my dreams. My higher self, or inner wisdom, which took the form of the “healer” in my dream, knows how to reach me. Yours does too, or at lest it’s trying its best to. As the physician at the workshop demonstrated to us, that wisdom is always there, but the mind needs to tune into it. It needs to quiet the outer chatter and find the frequency of the truth that is you. Amazing things can happen when you listen to it. Miracles unfold. Life becomes not only meaningful, but magical. It all just starts to make sense.

I’ll confess, I don’t always tune in. Every day. Mediation is not a habit for me. I have dreamtime, but in the waking hours I’ve learned to listen to. When I go for walks, nature speaks to me with birds and animals. Even plants carry messages. So do our computers, TVs, phones, and radios, which can be tuned into the frequency of our inner wisdom. Have you ever turned on one of them and found the answer you were seeking in a song or image? Or maybe it was a word spoken just at the right time.

Although there are oh so many benefits to engaging in a daily meditation practice, where the body and mind are sitting in silence, open to receive, life itself can be a mediation. Each breath, when breathed with awareness becomes open to receive. Each moment, a lesson to learn and engage in the classroom that is life. Your life. Not your neighbor’s, yours. That inner voice is speaking to you, always, trying to get you to tune into it and listen. It is beautiful and wondrous because it is always in the frequency of truth.

Why we stop

stop sign

I’m having one of those quiet days that come to me when my children and husband are back in school and work after a vacation. The house is quiet, aside from the occasional sigh and bark from the dogs, the whirr of the pellet stove, and the click of the keys on my computer. There is the scratch at the porch door that gets me up and moving to let in the smaller of my two dogs, and the ensuing smile that reminds me that love is about patience and the willingness to shift.

Today I am pondering the pause, the quiet space in our perception of time when stillness takes over the kinetic moments of life. Transitioning from one extreme to another can be uncomfortable, it’s a bit of a shock to the system of self. We can find ourselves a little lost in the place of quiet space where we wait for the next event to occur.

I love solitude, sometimes I crave it to the point of irritation. I need it, we all do, and yet I also crave the yell of bliss that ignites the spirit, forgetting that I can have both. I dwell on the wait, wondering when the next body of words will form to create a poem or a chapter, when someone will call for a healing session, or Spirit will bring me another gift of journey. I get caught up in the wait, forgetting that it is the very gift I need most.

Canada goose on pond

We feel the pulse of our divine light when we succumb to the deep breaths of silence. Here we remember who we are and where we come from. We recharge and realign so that we will be ready to move again.

Consistency

If you eat one meal a week, your body will not be nourished. The same concept applies to our souls. We are each here to fulfill the journey we set out to follow when we decided to incarnate in this life. Yet, we often forget to nourish ourselves.

I have been inconsistent in feeding my soul this summer. With my children home, I have chosen not to focus on my own needs. Meditation has been sporadic, at best. On my children’s last day of school I got certified for Shamballa energy healing, levels 1 and 2. Ideally I would be practicing energy healing on myself every day, but that too has been sporadic. Then there is writing. Something I know I need to do everyday. A psychic once suggested that I at least try to journal everyday. Journaling has never been something I am happy doing, but she had a good point. My soul needs me to write everyday. I’m not doing that this summer.

So, I shouldn’t have been surprise last week (and I wasn’t, I knew the results before they came) when I had my TSH levels checked and found out they were rising instead of dropping. If we don’t heal and nurture our souls, our bodies won’t heal. They are our barometers for our spiritual health. When we experience dis-ease in the physical, our souls are crying out for nourishment.

The confirmation that my throat chakra was not spinning in a glorious blue wheel of truth was not a surprise, but it was a good wake up call. Sometimes we need to let things go and make way for our needs. Let the laundry sit another day. Let the kids watch another half hour of TV. Let the grass grow another day. Sit and listen to your soul and find our what it wants. Do it everyday and you will thrive.

Namaste

Lightning

I was surprised by the lightning, even though I had welcomed the steady rain that promises to fill the day with the possibility of quiet reflection, meditation and writing. I began by spreading the oracle cards from Steve Farmer’s deck Earth Magic, in a circle upon my coffee table. Twice I let my hand gravitate to the cards at the top of the circle before I pulled out Lightning/Power, and looked at the orange fire spread in a vein of electricity  touching the turquoise crest of waves. There are rocks along the shore, the trees lean against the pull of the wind. The sky is indigo. Least I doubt my choice of cards,  Farmer’s guidebook folded open to its page.

I spread tiger-eye, lapis lazuli, malachite, turquoise and carnelian agate around my pillar of unpolished rose quartz, guarded it with my white angel and lit the pink candle on the table. I was ready to welcome power in whatever form it wanted to speak to me, but first I placed amethyst in my left palm and angelite in my right. Closing gently my fists, I felt the pulses of crystal energy.

I spent about an hour in meditation, letting my thoughts come and go, feeling the hiccup of my breath against my heartbeat. I cannot tell you everything I saw or felt, because some things are stored only for our experience and not for memory. I can tell you that Angelite brought three animal totems to me. First came Seal, a new visitor, wearing the gray silk of creative waters. Then Bat appeared, another surprise, upside down like the Hanged Man card in tarot. (Yesterday I found myself thinking about this card and how it relates to rainbows. That red energy turned towards the sky.) Bat evokes nighttime, like the Power/Lightning card I drew. It foreshadows a time of transition and initiation. I heard the rustle of the crystals still left in their bags beside me. Bat reminds us that there is rebirth out of darkness if we are willing to let the old die to make way for new life. Through facing our fears we can become empowered. The last two nights I shifted through the clutter of old fears still nesting inside of me. I entered dreams within dreams, analyzing the residue of bathrooms, wiping feces from white walls. I tried to resist, but could not, the scattering of superficial beauty tangled into necklaces in boxes and scattered like dust under beds…

After I watched Seal and Bat appear, my old friend, Snake stopped by, twisting its body into dance, its head lifted with two wide eyes daring mine to close. I must tell you that before, during and after these three animals appeared to me, my body was experiencing pockets of pain.  I watched yellow/white energy transfer to my more closed-off right side of my body in gentle waves. This was easy compared to the dis-ease stored in my belly, that center of  power. Nausea came and the impulse to pull out of my meditation. From outside my body I felt my breath deepen as it traveled to the source of the pain, urging release of the old, stored energy to make way for new. This, was not easy.   Hovering at the base of my spine was a spinning vortex, its hum lifting, energizing. The kundalini of Snake. And then there was that dark pit, deep inside my lower right abdomen. I felt and heard my breath deepen its pull as it worked to release an energy accumulation beyond this life. I put my feet on the floor, welcoming the red energy of Earth to aid my breath, feeling the easy hum inside my left foot, but not my right.

This morning I took my first dose of my decreased thyroid medication. 88. A double-dose of infinity. It’s just the beginning.