Holding Steady

I allowed myself to be cradled in the Creator's arms today, just like these rocks are held in the wood's womb.

I allowed myself to be cradled in the Creator’s arms today, just like these rocks are held in the weathered wood’s soft womb.

The days roll by in interesting waves. Yesterday I arranged for more time here as I keep hearing  “wait”. Today I intended to live in the stillness, dropping all thoughts of where to, what next for this pilgrim. I awaited a response from a woman about a possible house share that came about  through following an inner prompting. She is assisting her mom as she transitions to another realm, so I knew that was where her focus was needed. I expanded into that breath, allowing it to move in its right time. Two days, that felt stretched wide, had passed since our contact. Two other offers came of temporary spots, how I appreciate these dear hearts. Still, the “wait”.  I went off to further explore the island. I was prepared with snacks and water this time as I intended a longer walk. I took off my shoes and stashed them behind a tree so as to feel the earth and rocks. I went a ways, took a call from one so dear to me. He offers yet again, the support of a landing spot and assistance in finding and furnishing a place. If I am at the end of my tether with this no home situation, he is ahead of me. He wants me safe and settled as he has been the backup support for too long. He is tired, I am tired of me. I end up feeling beleaguered. Tears, even defensiveness come up in me. Yes, my moving about does not make sense on one level; yes, I want a place; yes, I want community; yes, I want to participate in life. No, my actions have not facilitated any of this and yet…and yet. The idea of a lease and commitment to future time feels impossible to me. The thought of gathering furnishings feels like a weight that will bury me. Still there is the impulse to run back to the known, to be held for a moment, to be assisted in doing all of this as nothing else feels right. Something holds me back.

Eagle on wing, flying into the treetops.

Eagle on wing, flying into the treetops.

I hear the “wait” once again. I turn back and retrieve my wool socks and hikers as suddenly I am too tender to be walking with bare feet on the cold earth. I press on to the sea, watch two eagles follow one another into the forest. I find a weathered tree toppled along the bluff that offers a lunch spot. I take out my hard boiled egg, carrots and celery, feeling smug that I am so prepared. I answer a call from a friend. A moment later, a bee or wasp, stings the base of my thumb on the hand that was holding the phone. It went flying as I screamed in pain, scraping the insect away. It felt like a wasp as it is still sore, hours later. I had cleaned out my backpack that morning and forgot to put my first aid kit back in. I carry this green tin of Bert’s Bees’ res-Q-ointment that works for bites, burns and scrapes. I regretted my lapse as it would have offered some relief. I asked my body what that was all about. I heard, “activation and time to head back.” I don’t need any more shocks!  I felt teary, the wind had turned cold and suddenly I needed another layer on. What is this fragility that I seem to live in of late?  Everything is on the surface, I am as raw as the wind blowing off the sea. Time for warmth and a hot bath.

This was my gift as I turned from the sea, the sun spilling her silver liquidlovelight for me.

This was my gift as I turned from the sea, the sun spilling her silver liquidlovelight for me.

I lay in the tub, feeling underneath the rolling of my emotions to a deep stillness that is carrying me. I am a wave, being carried ever closer to the shore of my desires. Shambhala, that misty place, my heart resides. I feel each drop that forms this wave, all of us, courageous hearts.  We make our way, up and over, crashing and churning, relentlessly moving. An ancient knowing drives our movement, to leap and throw off what no longer serves, to dive deep to the place of remembering, to steadily surge forward towards that shore. No time given for arrival, no knowing what awaits…….Christopher Columbus and his men had nothing on us. We are explorers of an inner land. No landmarks, no navigational tools. Only this instinct, surging and moving us onward. Elemental. Yes, reduced to the elements. That is how I feel. I am carbon, crystal, water. A flame, a torrential storm, desert sand, the mist that floats in.

I AM. That is all I know this night. I AM.

Pink blossoms, muffins and Shambhala Masters

Sitting in bed at 11:33 pm eating the remains of this morning’s delicious muffin. Last night I did not sleep much at all. I felt nauseous and out of sorts, the earth was moving on some deep level and I with her. Today I napped in the late afternoon with the feeling that I could sink into the bed forever. We are entering into the equinox, the time of balance. Am I turning upside down in mine? Many are feeling overwhelmed as they continue to push themselves to work that seems to have no end and schedules that allow no room to breath. This is happening everywhere as there is less staff and more work in most businesses. People try to keep up, to juggle all the balls in the air until eventually something gives. For me, I began to cry in meetings, cry in my office, tears of frustration that it was not possible to do all that was asked. For many it is their health that gives way and allows a way out. All strives for balance and what is not in balance will come to the fore for resolution. The old way of moving through the world will not be sustained in the new energies. This can feel frightening yet each moment offers the possibility of balance and peace. For me it seems that it all comes down to trust. Trusting that all will be well. The old way of trying to control it all is not working. Doing more is not the answer. Surrender is the name of the game.

The rain today is feeding my soul. As did these pink hollyhock blossoms, catching the raindrops and filtering the misty light through their petals. I am in this blue/green/grey/white world of forests, mists, and waters and then there is this wild pink! A shock almost of color that dances across my heart. I am a lover of pink. One of the things I loved so about India was the use of bright pink and orange together. I was just doing a meditation where they described the color of the love flooding in as pink-orange! Of course.
Today a friend called to ask me to vision with her. She began to tell me what had come to her to prompt the call. She saw us looking down at a “verdant valley”. Those two words triggered an outburst of sobbing. I was sitting in a cafe at the time but the tears knew no time. I could not say what it was but it was as if the words were a key that opened a deep recess in my being. Every cell in my body knew to respond to those words. We journeyed into a space of such beauty. She is the visionary, I the feeler. Together we see. We were asked to don our Shambhala robes. We were told that we had earned them and that they were eternal. More sobs. Shambhala masters were with us, greeting us and working with us. We were seeding our visions of the New Earth. The women were in a circle, then an outer circle of men. Light came streaming in the center of our circle. My free hand was moving, weaving the strands of light. There were babies coming in, we were holding them. Then the men bent down to gather the babes in their cloaks, guarding and protecting them. It was so beautiful as it was the new masculine, sure in its strength and clear in its role. The women were laughing and dancing, flirting with the men as they were free to play. The raising of the children was shared by the fathers as well as the trees, the air, the elementals. The babies were so protected and honored by all. I cried at the freedom for the young women, to dance and laugh and be in their joy. And I cried at the pride of the young men as they delighted in the women’s play and in their strength as the protector. The babies were so excited to be here, to be in this place of peace and joy. Codes of light streamed down from the heavens. The earth opened to receive this light with such reverence. All felt sacred.
The time is here. We are called to our roles. I feel drawn to the stillness to purify my being. To make sure that there is no distortion in my field as this template must be laid down in truth and in peace. All that is not truth, will be magnified so it must come through with purity and love. We have been witness to the distortions in Atlantis and other times and I cannot bear to have it end so. Every part of me is focused on bringing this vision through in its pristine wholeness and holiness.
I write and speak these things not to elevate my ego but rather to aid in my own adjustment to who I am. We are each beings of great light. We are masters or we would not be on the earth at this grand juncture. My personality self shies away from claiming my self hood. As I speak of these things, Shambhala master robes, being a creator being, crowns of stars…I am allowing myself to breathe into the vastness of who I am. I know that we cannot play small any longer. We must shine our full light out into the world. As I step into my truth, I widen the space for each one to enter into their truth.
Here is a fairy house I came upon in the woods. Isn’t it cunning the way the spider wove the roof and the leaves laid the carpet? My grandchildren will be able to play with the fairies openly, all will be seen and known. The delight of this knowing, fills my heart. The fairies are pretty excited too! They are ready to be seen and interacted with on a grander scale. All is ready to be seen on a grander scale. We are ready to be seen by others and most importantly, by ourselves on this grander stage. I love the costumes! We get robes of fabulous colors and textures as well as swords, crowns, staffs, unicorns and dragons to ride and crystals and wands to play with. We do indeed get to be as little children again as we learn to live in the moment. I heard Lindsey Wagner speak (the actress who played the Bionic Woman on TV years ago) and she said to watch little children emote. They are so dramatic in their tears and tantrums but then they are free to feel the next wave of emotion that comes if we do not stop the process. If we allow the expression, it clears and they are free of the emotion. I loved this quote of Lindsey’s: “Pain is a wave. Suffering is a sea wall.” That really hit home for me. It is time to ride the waves in our lives. We can be choose exhilaration or terror. It is all our choice. I am ready for the ride of my many lives!