Excerpted from The Wonder of Living in the Heart in Sacred Fire Magazine Issue 10
. . . That place inside is where your heart beats its gentle rhythm, that place you point to when you point to yourself, that place where your deepest, truest self lives. Babies are born living from this space. Small children still know how to live there. But we, in Western culture, teach them to live in their minds rather than in their bodies and their hearts. We may be the only culture that does this. Aboriginal peoples grow up still living in their hearts, still connected to nature and wonder.
We do not. We grow up living in our heads, disconnected from our deepest experiences, from our connection to the Earth and to all of life. I am convinced that this is part of why we are destroying the Earth and aboriginal peoples are not - because we (unlike them) are out of touch with our bodies and hearts, where our sense of kinship with the rest of life lives. By learning to live in our hearts again we can reconnect with that sense of kinship and with our deepest experiences of life. We can reconnect with the wonder and immense power of nature.
. . . You feel as though you are coming home after a long absence, and in a very real sense you are doing just that. You are coming home to the way life was meant to be lived. You are coming home to your truest, deepest self. You are coming home to . . . well, life.
. . . It is in the heart center that we feel our inherent worth as human beings, and that we feel the inherent worth of all other beings. The heart center is a place of love for yourself and for all Creation. It is the place where you experience your larger self - where you know, as one of my teachers kept telling me that "you are so much more than this."
This morning, I read this upon waking . . . and realized that my focus could be turned away from the area of my body that is numb, towards my heart. Because ultimately my heart is the root of all else, and has the ability to transform anything that I feel elsewhere. I laid one hand in my heart space, and one hand on my lower abdomen, breathing deeply and repeating the mantra, 'Here in this moment, is who I am.'
And slowly I understood myself to be larger than the pain that this process of facing the sexual abuse and rape has brought to me. I felt little need to 'understand' how those experiences shaped me. And instead fell into the rhythm of my body, into its softness, and into its wholeness. I recognized the safety that was inherently found in being present to my heart center. As I did this, the numbness dissolved.
This will be part of my waking meditation each morning.
Showing posts with label receive. Show all posts
Showing posts with label receive. Show all posts
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Sunday, November 8, 2009
Grandmother Ocean
I've been quiet again. There is only so much that my heart can take, and this week has put me on overload almost every single day. I have gratitude for my genius of a friend who encouraged me to make a list of five things I could accomplish each morning, and then following through on that list. Guaranteed I was productive. And then the very second that the fifth thing was crossed off, I was going around in circles again. She also suggested that I cap my personal writing time to 30 minutes, until I finished everything on my list. That seemed to help as well. Even writing has me spinning in circles.
I've either felt incredibly grounded IN my body . . . AND completely uncomfortable. Or I've been walking around feeling in shock and completely OUT of my body . . . AND completely uncomfortable.
I think, after a PSM treatment, a community fire, and a day at the ocean I can rightfully claim that order has been restored in my system. I feel much more calm. Centered. Whole.
So today, I had my date with Grandmother Ocean . . . who requested that I visit her weekly. I took an incredibly long bike ride along the coast . . . sincerely could not get enough of moving my legs or just moving in general . . . I was like an addict searching for my next fix. But when I finally did lock up my bike and head to the ocean, I stood in the tide for almost an hour and barely moved. That was her request of me.
The tide was a bit tricky today. Sometimes it seemed as though it would never come to greet my toes, and other times it came rolling in up to my mid-thigh area. I watched it for awhile as I stood there . . . asked Mama Sequoia to come and join me - she had a message she needed me to deliver to 8. And then gave an offering to Grandmother, to share my gratitude for whatever she was going to teach me.
Today's lesson was about faith. Quite poignant considering that this is a word that I used at the fire on Friday evening . . . sharing how faith comes from the heart . . . as opposed to belief which comes from the head. I can't say that I've ever truly experienced 'faith'. And yet, in the process that I'm in now, faith is what I'm being asked to have . . . to cultivate . . . to live. Feeling that space in my heart, where it resides . . . begin to heal . . . has left me in tears for most of the weekend. For me, faith is a feeling . . . something that I'm working to breathe light into . . . so that I can live from that space once again.
So, Grandmother Ocean, in her wisdom . . . taught me about faith . . . taught me about standing in the tide, with my feet planted in the sand . . . holding faith above all else as her waters came to me over and over again. She is faith. The second that I moved in the tide, out of fear, instead of staying in place out of faith . . . I almost fell. And after a long dance like this . . . she finally asked me to close my eyes and stand in one place. For some, it would seem that trust would be key in this request. But trust, for me, represents something seen. Faith is what cannot be seen. So I closed my eyes and stood. And at times she was gentle with me. And at other times, not so gentle. There were only a few times where I opened my eyes. And each time I did, I heard her asking me to have faith.
Faith is where I stand right now. For the first time in my life, I cannot see what is ahead, for better or for worse. I cannot even guess as to what the best or worst case scenario would be. The only thing that I can do, is have faith.
Faith is guided by action. My own, in this moment. And I realized today, that those actions can be quick or slow . . . I do have a choice. I don't need to rush into unraveling the pain and humility of the sexual abuse and rape simply because I feel called to do so in a particular way. It is okay . . . more than okay for me to take my time and to build my faith, like a muscle . . . there are smaller things that I can do in the process of all of this . . . that will serve me well in preparation. The space in my heart that is healing . . . that is asking to be my guide as I move forward . . . will let me know when it is time for me to embark on particular things that will move me through this process. Until then I can rest easy in knowing that while those past events in my life were pushed upon me . . . these events now are choices that I have a say in. Ultimately I will find my way to what I feel called towards. Even if only five tasks at a time.
I've either felt incredibly grounded IN my body . . . AND completely uncomfortable. Or I've been walking around feeling in shock and completely OUT of my body . . . AND completely uncomfortable.
I think, after a PSM treatment, a community fire, and a day at the ocean I can rightfully claim that order has been restored in my system. I feel much more calm. Centered. Whole.
So today, I had my date with Grandmother Ocean . . . who requested that I visit her weekly. I took an incredibly long bike ride along the coast . . . sincerely could not get enough of moving my legs or just moving in general . . . I was like an addict searching for my next fix. But when I finally did lock up my bike and head to the ocean, I stood in the tide for almost an hour and barely moved. That was her request of me.
The tide was a bit tricky today. Sometimes it seemed as though it would never come to greet my toes, and other times it came rolling in up to my mid-thigh area. I watched it for awhile as I stood there . . . asked Mama Sequoia to come and join me - she had a message she needed me to deliver to 8. And then gave an offering to Grandmother, to share my gratitude for whatever she was going to teach me.
Today's lesson was about faith. Quite poignant considering that this is a word that I used at the fire on Friday evening . . . sharing how faith comes from the heart . . . as opposed to belief which comes from the head. I can't say that I've ever truly experienced 'faith'. And yet, in the process that I'm in now, faith is what I'm being asked to have . . . to cultivate . . . to live. Feeling that space in my heart, where it resides . . . begin to heal . . . has left me in tears for most of the weekend. For me, faith is a feeling . . . something that I'm working to breathe light into . . . so that I can live from that space once again.
So, Grandmother Ocean, in her wisdom . . . taught me about faith . . . taught me about standing in the tide, with my feet planted in the sand . . . holding faith above all else as her waters came to me over and over again. She is faith. The second that I moved in the tide, out of fear, instead of staying in place out of faith . . . I almost fell. And after a long dance like this . . . she finally asked me to close my eyes and stand in one place. For some, it would seem that trust would be key in this request. But trust, for me, represents something seen. Faith is what cannot be seen. So I closed my eyes and stood. And at times she was gentle with me. And at other times, not so gentle. There were only a few times where I opened my eyes. And each time I did, I heard her asking me to have faith.
Faith is where I stand right now. For the first time in my life, I cannot see what is ahead, for better or for worse. I cannot even guess as to what the best or worst case scenario would be. The only thing that I can do, is have faith.
Faith is guided by action. My own, in this moment. And I realized today, that those actions can be quick or slow . . . I do have a choice. I don't need to rush into unraveling the pain and humility of the sexual abuse and rape simply because I feel called to do so in a particular way. It is okay . . . more than okay for me to take my time and to build my faith, like a muscle . . . there are smaller things that I can do in the process of all of this . . . that will serve me well in preparation. The space in my heart that is healing . . . that is asking to be my guide as I move forward . . . will let me know when it is time for me to embark on particular things that will move me through this process. Until then I can rest easy in knowing that while those past events in my life were pushed upon me . . . these events now are choices that I have a say in. Ultimately I will find my way to what I feel called towards. Even if only five tasks at a time.
Sunday, October 18, 2009
A Day of Receiving
It struck me last night to take today away from technology. 6 days a week I'm connected to my phone or to my laptop. And it was obvious to me that after last night's meltdown, my soul needed some rejuvenation. So I took today - from sunrise to sunset, away from technology.
8 had sent me an email this morning, letting me know that she was worried about me, and that she had lit our candle. I wrote her back and shared a dream that I had . . . one of speaking with an Indigenous Elder - a woman (not sure from which culture) and she had shared with me that my grandmothers were with me - that I carried them with me everyday . . . they were the beauty of my soul, and as such I was never alone. I had taken some mugwort and put it under my pillow last night. I had asked the mugwort to show me what I needed to know in order to heal . . . and this dream was the response. It was a beautiful dream . . . very peaceful.
And then, I dressed and I biked to the ocean. It was an overcast morning . . . clouds in the sky, the air still damp and slightly chilly. And about halfway there, I kicked into a zone and cycling became effortless. The ocean was calling. I thought perhaps when I arrived that I would meditate or do qi gong, but instead I continued to bicycle. When I reached the more exposed side of the beach, I turned around and came back . . . and in doing so, witnessed a group of surfers . . . one of whom was giving CPR to another surfer. I don't know what happened. And I don't know if they were able to resuscitate him - ambulances and the beach patrol arrived. I just know, in that moment, I said a prayer for him and gave gratitude for my own life.
I played in the tide for awhile . . . dancing with the surf . . . the ocean gave me a poem . . . one that reminded me that it was okay to trip . . . she spoke to me so strongly this morning . . . and I listened and danced with her as I wrote. Then I slowly biked home, stopping for some Kombucha . . . and spotted a card and a small token that I wanted to send to 8. Instead of going home, I went to the park near my house . . . to visit the Eucalyptus tree that I love to meditate with . . . and once there, did some qi gong in the small grove of sycamore and eucalyptus trees that grow there. And then meditated with the tree and spent some time writing in my journal. My heart felt incredibly clear. I felt incredibly connected to my body. Peace came through my soul in waves.
I biked home, and took a nap with my cat. An hour . . . which is long for me . . . in my favorite t-shirt. And then slowly propelled myself out of bed and into the bathtub . . . where I stayed for another hour or so . . . reading about Redwood trees and focusing on 'receiving'. After the bath came some small chores to help my landlord . . . and then sipping some vegetable broth in my backyard while my cat napped on my lap. And then I planted the vegetable garden, and cleaned up from the downpour of rain that we had. After that was finished, I came inside and cleaned my apartment, started laundry . . . and as the sun set, I took some time and I meditated.
Here I sit, peacefully.
What I've recognized today is that while the 'events' that have led me here are ones of sexual abuse and rape . . . the lesson and the root of all of this, is in learning to receive. I am a giver by nature - most women are. And while I have become more balanced in terms of how much I give, I have struggled in truly receiving. Being intimate with someone is about learning how to fully receive. And it's a lesson that needs to be learned in every day life . . . not just in the bedroom.
So the promise that I make to myself . . . is to give myself one day a week - most likely Sundays . . . where my focus and intention are solely about 'receiving'. Where I can play and wander and laugh and explore . . . and learn how to receive all that is available to me, in love and gratitude. I will work on this the other 6 days a week as well. But one day a week, everything will be turned off, and the focus will go inward. This is an absolute, if I wish to step into all that the gods are asking of me.
Today also gave me the opportunity to hear my heart clearly . . . regarding 8 and her role in my life . . . as I sat under the Eucalyptus tree, I wrote this as part of my journal entry:
There are moments where I feel crazy in loving her like this . . . in feeling so clear about what my heart sees in the future for us. For being so willing to feel so much . . . to open so wide. And yet it is what I feel called to do . . . so deeply and profoundly. To understand her. That is what my heart calls for. To understand her, on all levels. And to honor and respect that understanding. I feel my heart making the choice for her to be in my life. Making the choice to understand her. Choosing her to be my life partner, regardless of what the path looks like. That is what the most authentic part of my soul speaks. Clearly and loudly. And with intention. And I embrace it. I trust my heart. I trust hers. I trust the gods.
In my most recent life . . . everything that has felt 'crazy' has been an incredible gift to me . . . and has ultimately brought more joy and light into my day and into my heart. And so . . . I embrace the 'crazy' . . .
8 had sent me an email this morning, letting me know that she was worried about me, and that she had lit our candle. I wrote her back and shared a dream that I had . . . one of speaking with an Indigenous Elder - a woman (not sure from which culture) and she had shared with me that my grandmothers were with me - that I carried them with me everyday . . . they were the beauty of my soul, and as such I was never alone. I had taken some mugwort and put it under my pillow last night. I had asked the mugwort to show me what I needed to know in order to heal . . . and this dream was the response. It was a beautiful dream . . . very peaceful.
And then, I dressed and I biked to the ocean. It was an overcast morning . . . clouds in the sky, the air still damp and slightly chilly. And about halfway there, I kicked into a zone and cycling became effortless. The ocean was calling. I thought perhaps when I arrived that I would meditate or do qi gong, but instead I continued to bicycle. When I reached the more exposed side of the beach, I turned around and came back . . . and in doing so, witnessed a group of surfers . . . one of whom was giving CPR to another surfer. I don't know what happened. And I don't know if they were able to resuscitate him - ambulances and the beach patrol arrived. I just know, in that moment, I said a prayer for him and gave gratitude for my own life.
I played in the tide for awhile . . . dancing with the surf . . . the ocean gave me a poem . . . one that reminded me that it was okay to trip . . . she spoke to me so strongly this morning . . . and I listened and danced with her as I wrote. Then I slowly biked home, stopping for some Kombucha . . . and spotted a card and a small token that I wanted to send to 8. Instead of going home, I went to the park near my house . . . to visit the Eucalyptus tree that I love to meditate with . . . and once there, did some qi gong in the small grove of sycamore and eucalyptus trees that grow there. And then meditated with the tree and spent some time writing in my journal. My heart felt incredibly clear. I felt incredibly connected to my body. Peace came through my soul in waves.
I biked home, and took a nap with my cat. An hour . . . which is long for me . . . in my favorite t-shirt. And then slowly propelled myself out of bed and into the bathtub . . . where I stayed for another hour or so . . . reading about Redwood trees and focusing on 'receiving'. After the bath came some small chores to help my landlord . . . and then sipping some vegetable broth in my backyard while my cat napped on my lap. And then I planted the vegetable garden, and cleaned up from the downpour of rain that we had. After that was finished, I came inside and cleaned my apartment, started laundry . . . and as the sun set, I took some time and I meditated.
Here I sit, peacefully.
What I've recognized today is that while the 'events' that have led me here are ones of sexual abuse and rape . . . the lesson and the root of all of this, is in learning to receive. I am a giver by nature - most women are. And while I have become more balanced in terms of how much I give, I have struggled in truly receiving. Being intimate with someone is about learning how to fully receive. And it's a lesson that needs to be learned in every day life . . . not just in the bedroom.
So the promise that I make to myself . . . is to give myself one day a week - most likely Sundays . . . where my focus and intention are solely about 'receiving'. Where I can play and wander and laugh and explore . . . and learn how to receive all that is available to me, in love and gratitude. I will work on this the other 6 days a week as well. But one day a week, everything will be turned off, and the focus will go inward. This is an absolute, if I wish to step into all that the gods are asking of me.
Today also gave me the opportunity to hear my heart clearly . . . regarding 8 and her role in my life . . . as I sat under the Eucalyptus tree, I wrote this as part of my journal entry:
There are moments where I feel crazy in loving her like this . . . in feeling so clear about what my heart sees in the future for us. For being so willing to feel so much . . . to open so wide. And yet it is what I feel called to do . . . so deeply and profoundly. To understand her. That is what my heart calls for. To understand her, on all levels. And to honor and respect that understanding. I feel my heart making the choice for her to be in my life. Making the choice to understand her. Choosing her to be my life partner, regardless of what the path looks like. That is what the most authentic part of my soul speaks. Clearly and loudly. And with intention. And I embrace it. I trust my heart. I trust hers. I trust the gods.
In my most recent life . . . everything that has felt 'crazy' has been an incredible gift to me . . . and has ultimately brought more joy and light into my day and into my heart. And so . . . I embrace the 'crazy' . . .
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