I lay down on my healing table. Underneath me the pad filled with amethyst, citrine and tourmaline heats up. I have just finished my morning ritual of Rapè in preparation for my meditation.
I place the earbuds in my ears, set my timer for 30 minutes. Hitting the tab the music starts. I pray “Oh Lord, the eternal light of all things, show me, lead me, for so much has changed.”
Immediately a matrix begins to form at the soles of my feet. Thin strands of white gold energy, diamond shaped, held together by points of light. This matrix moves up my body, internally and then out all around me, creating a sacred webbing.
This matrix is the exact replica as the matrix of light that is forming around the earth. Pinpoints of light culminating where great centers for healing and sanctuary are developing.
We are walking worlds, like the planet, carrying great beauty as well as turmoil and uncompromising destruction. We walk this world leaving footprints as we go. Footprints ecologically, emotionally, physically, mentally, spiritually. Resembling the cycles of earth, we are born, we bloom, and we die. Our existence marked by what we leave behind. There are those who are walking off the earth to the next place we call heaven, those who are in the middle of their earth walk, those just beginning their walk and those who cry out harking their arrival to this world, their feet applied to ink and embossed onto paper to certify their birth.
Our egos wiped clean at birth become scarred by trauma and harm. Our egos call us to heal it, so that the ego may achieve its purpose, which is to absorb the wisdom and eldering that comes with all experience.
We are the living matrix. Bound by the deep desire for spiritual relief and human satisfaction. Eternal in our existence, we are the sacred formation of light, incarnate into the dark, to bring light.
I am. We are. God is.
Butterflies: Sound and Silence
Morning has come once again. I make my way to the living area of my home. Pulling on the rod that will open the vertical blinds that cover my sliding glass doors, I am met with an astounding sight. Thousands of painted lady butterflies are flitting past my windows, skirting my terrace, moving amongst the trees. I stand still, mesmerized by the silent cacophony of this natural state of grace.
Several months of drenching rains have shifted the airstreams, flowers that have not blossomed in years have drawn these sweet winged ones to migrate for the first time in over 10 years through Southern California to Monterey, where they will go to rest; hanging upside down in the trees.
I am at a sweat lodge organized by James Uqualla, for the New Year in Sedona, Arizona. We, the people sitting in the lodge waiting for it to start, are talking away, voices loud, voices soft. Life is happening. Uqualla says to us, “This is right, you all go ahead and talk to each other, for in the coming times, if you are not talking to each other, we will be in trouble.”
Sound and Silence, it is all we have left. Stillness in and for the times of prayer and listening. Listening to spirit, and more importantly to each other. A true communion of communication to heal the fear of attack.
Many of us have the memory of what talking did to us. Anger, ridicule, and abuse were in the words. In order for the trauma of communication to be relieved, the opposite must occur: the willingness to communicate, to find common ground.
Silence, filled with suffering. This particular silence turns into the lack of intimate knowledge of each other. Cover your ears, hold your tongue, close your eyes, stay silent, and let no one know. Healthy silence, has peace in it. It is the wise dance of prayerful stillness, quiet mind, and listening.
The butterflies spend all day giving all that see them a lesson on the natural state of living. Their wings moving silently and elegantly. In this silence is the sound of beauty.
Call It Good
I am crying on the phone to my mentor. I hurt. Another surgery; the fear of not being taken care of by GOD. Years of ill health, tests, surgeries. A loneliness so deep I have no words. Exhausted, my faith in GOD is tattered, blowing in the wind. A multitude of emotions and reasons as I shake in anxiety and distress. She listens without word, yet her silence is speaking a million things, all of them good.
Finally I catch my breath. She says to me, “I am here to remind you how much your GOD adores you.” “Did I ever tell you my stories of GOD teaching me to call it good?” I say no. So she begins, telling me of her son. The first story is of his overdosing, and the second of a serious court issue he would get that would have put him in prison for at least seven years.
In the first story she is told by GOD, “Call it good.” She balks, how can she call this good? Her son is at death’s door; mentally ill. God says again, “Call it good.” She begins to call it good. A year later her son is in serious trouble with the law. “Call it good.” How can she call this good, it is her son, who is in trouble. “Call it good.”
Because of the first incident, when her son goes to court for the second incident he is represented by an organization that advocates for the mentally ill. He is not given seven years. He is put in a safe place for a year and gets help.
Call it good. We do not know where all things lead. We cannot foretell the goodness that comes out of all situations. The task is to believe, and call it good. We are the living matrix of eternal life. Born out of prayers from the wisest of wise, highest of high, universal reality. We are walking worlds. Simple and complex. We are the sound of all creation, the silence of all faith. We are the way, the life, and the light. We are eternal. Yet our time here on this planet is short. Call it good. Praise and proclaim.
In the suffering, in the time of aloneness, in the times of prosperity and joy. Call it good. In this voice, the living matrix, the walking worlds, the goodness will touch all things and heaven shall come to earth.
We are, therefore God is.
Let the river of life take you. It will carry you to your prayers. It will bring relief for self-correction. It is life giving. Your thoughts are useless against this river. It is bound by a wisdom that continues whether you fight or not. Let the river carry you.
The river shall wash and bring comfort. Laugh, play, splash, bathe and give reverence in the river.
Conspiring to bring you to yourself, the river banks will be filled with action and opportunity so that you will become the walking heavens. You, the living matrix, many sided, encompassing eternity.
You are the world. You are human. You are the matrix. You are. We are. I am. Therefore GOD IS.