A voice crying in the wilderness

How to start this.....the moment in the hive....the healing dance I was invited to.....
    
   In flashes that experience envelops me.  

Drowning I was
In the darkness. 
Held under I was
Pressed down

What rises from the dark water?
    I was buried alive. 

Drowning I realized
I am
Not I 
But She. 
I am She.

She voiced the sound of every infant crying
Every suffering creature
Every ecstatic eruption

She exists
And nothing else can. 

So tonight, she came through again, consciously
Yesterday she came through, consciously.

  There is so much responsibility in that embodied voice.  I have not wanted to take it. 
It seemed better to be quiet and take what was freely given.  And perhaps steal secretly what was not. 
 
Until.....I am 35 and my throat is restricted.  Every time I am sick it is my throat.    When I come up against an obstacle in my practice it is my throat.  My neck is always tight.  I barely sing anymore. 
   
  It is too high a price to pay. 

Sophia has come to help me use this power.   I open up my mouth like diving into an enormous wave.  And I trust that the right thing will come.  Forget outcome.  Just speak what needs spoken. 
   
    Wisdom speaks. 
 
 

 
 

an american girl

Independence.  When is the last time I felt that?

 I remember spending mornings taking care of the horse farm, then hopping on Synara's back and taking off into the forest at the end of an afternoon.
  There were also the times when I packed up my car and Chaska and took off on the open road headed west to wilderness and adventure...and the time we headed east as well.
  There was college in Albuquerque, riding my bike to school through the city.  Towards the end of that adventure though, I was well ready for a little support and interdependence.
  And now.
Today.

  I realize my style can rub up against some people's sore spots.  But there are others who can appreciate it.  It's alright.  I have the same reaction with other people.  I must dig deeper to appreciate the wisdom of people who spend their lives in a well known comfortable place with well known people and situations.  
 
  I have found myself surprised, pleasantly, by people who want me.  "Really?  You like me?" It's still a bit of magic that I find myself drawn to people that also recognize me as their own.  
  I spent a night in a neighborhood I adore last night, but the sweetest part was being with comrades.  Imagine!

I have been nothing and no one for a while, uncomfortably so at times.  I needed some time for a reinvention, a retooling, a transformation, a revolution.  As always we are doing.  In some way.
  And so now, I am feeling this need for a sharp independence.  For the first time in a while I sense a sharp need to be my own separate entity.  It arises up on it's own.  

  My have I been in a cocoon!  So hidden and protected, quiet and obedient!
And so, to be finding my feet, and my wings and my companions, oh how sweet.

 

Dominoes

What it feels like is the city popped my balloon.  No one floats above like that. 
It feels like sydney felt the energy inside me coming and quickly found a way to drain it.  So now I can drudge about like a half blind trapped animal along with everyone else. 
   That's only what it feels like.  
What it is, is just getting a virus hanging about at work in a moment when I was vulnerable after long extended travel. 
It was also an opportunity to see how long it took me ( if ever) to surrender to the process and just be with it. 
 
The spell has been broken.  Both the former order of my life and the transitional period leading out of it seem to have evaporated like a puddle on a hot day. 
  I am no doubt now inhabiting a new place.  The entrance and exits are moved,  magic words have become mundane,  the band's been replaced. 
  I am wondering how long I must stay here before I am moved along as well.  

       Dominoes.  Part of my consciousness is setting them up carefully so that another part can set off the famous chain reaction. 

Sink or swim

I did it.  I took 3 weeks and spent most of them solid with my parents in their world.  Church, cedar point, breakfasts lunches, dinners, company, grocery shopping.  Some of the time, if I am honest, only some of the time, have I been conscious enough to witness my reactions and feelings surrounding it all.  And judgment....well.  I have dealt with plenty of judgment.   From myself about my family and place of origin, towards my family.....

  I can tell that I will be processing this for a while to come.  Its been a large dose of strong medicine.   I am not sure how graceful it's been.    With my friends too I have had shifts.    My relationship to how I hear them and how I receive their influence feels less reactive.  Just a little.   I felt little shifts of seeing them differently as we interacted. 
I feel that much of what we go on for relationships is based on dead past.  We have months and years of stories and memories stacked up on top of the people we have relationship with.   Are we afraid to look honestly at the whole person we love? Are we unable to?  I found that in moments that I saw something in someone I had never seen before that I found my mind comparing myself to that thing.  Which sometimes created a sense of separation  and pain. 
   In my parents I find a different thing.   I am trying to peel them away from the stacks of memories and old known habits and encourage new choices..... like I'm counseling addicts....like I need them to change in a certain way which feels healthy to me.  Probably so I don't have to look at the dark parts of my own journey that I am working with.  If I heal me, maybe I can heal them, or if I heal them, maybe I can heal me. 

  The pain and the shadows here are my most difficult body of work.  I don't want to shy away, to back down, to run off and hide. 
             This must also be the place of deepest healing and truth.