Melancholy and sadness filled my field for a time the past couple of days. A couple of folks called to check in, was I feeling it too? Nice to know we are not alone, that others are experiencing the waves with us. That it is not personal, rather an expression of the collective consciousness. Our earth is going through more changes, earthquakes and volcanoes erupting in Chile, New Zealand, Nepal and elsewhere. A friend in Idaho called and said that there were a couple of small ones in her area. We feel more of the collective energy as it moves up and out for release. There is no hurrying it along. It flows in, seeking the love light, it opens my heart so the love light streams forth, I walk with it, listen to its story, feel its energy, allow it space….and it departs into the field of love that is.
Just realized that the word, holy is within melancholy. As we discover more and more, there is holiness and wholeness in what we are taught are negative states. Clues embedded for us to discover and bring into the light of our consciousness. We have been so programmed to shed the shadow, to keep running as if to outrun its reach. It is a relief when we finally stop and face it. To witness the fluid nature of feelings when we allow them entrance into our heart’s home. I recall the shock when I finally opened the door to the pain of my divorce and invited it in. I had thought that I would die on some level. Indeed, something did die. A dream, a vision, a creation. Yet, I did not die. As I became more comfortable with this guest, as its character became more known to me, as I began to love it, peace flowed in. It departed then, coming back for short visits when I required it. A messenger baring gifts of wisdom and strength.
Amazing how many states of feeling I can experience in a day. I honor each as an invited guest and in doing so, discover that none overstay their welcome. In previous times, I so desperately wanted a feeling to depart, that invariably, they stayed and stayed! No hints or encouragement saw them head to the door, rather they simply settled in more comfortably, tucking the pillows just so behind their backs. Now, I offer to rearrange the pillows, bring the refreshing liquidlovelight, offer my attention.
Before the glass is drained, they are usually up and out the door. Just as with our children, if I ignored the one hanging on my leg and kept with my task, the cries and attachment grew. If I bent down, offering my full attention, the hold loosened, the cries ceased and I could return to my task at hand.
The liquidlovelight is penetrating deep, the debris is floating upward to be cleansed. We are transmuters, alchemists of old, turning the dross to the golden love light. It was never about the golden coins, the true riches have always been the spirals of love light found in our hearts. We are blessed. We are.