Month: June 2021

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True Confessions: I am an Amateur.

I felt like a kid in a candy store. 

Arriving to help my friend pack up her office in preparation for a move, I encountered two rooms with wall to wall book cases. This was my idea of heaven. My conversational skills receded as my head tilted to browse hundreds of titles lining the shelves. So much knowledge! My curiosity and delight threatened to take over.

I got a hold of myself. After all, I had a job to do.

I was there to corral a fellow book lover into letting go of a lifetime of really cool books. To release a multitude of journals, notebooks, and workshop notes. Ouch. That’s the thing about downsizing. You can’t take it with you. Well, you can take 10 tightly packed bankers boxes. A treasure trove of delight awaiting a new home.

As books were being offered to me, I realized the book addict in me was being tempted.

I got my head clear and activated my purpose for being there. It wasn’t so I could “shop.” After two days of organizing, packing, tossing, and donating books, one room was clear. With a plan and a sprinkle of hope that one day those other shelves would be emptied, I headed home. 

Taking only 3 books with me. Wait, I meant 4. 

With one being mailed to me. Okay, 5. And 3 photos of books I have to order. And 8 books to pass on. A few things for Soul Sanctuary. One new journal for some special person. And a really cool workshop handout. That’s it. Scout’s honor.

Here’s the skinny on those 3 books.

I put the yoga book away. Very interesting, but I thought I’d wait ’til I returned to practicing yoga.  The Egyptian Goddess? I peeked, but I’m not so keen on diving in yet. That will take some attention. I have a pile on my shelf where she went.

Why put off exploring this beneficial wisdom? 

I discovered the answer by reading the third book cover to cover. 

Light bathing on my deck the following afternoon, surrounded by birdsong and breeze, I devoured this small gem. They say don’t judge a book by its cover, but I did grab this book because of its title.

The War of Art. 

Cleverness intrigues me. And it was a small book.

It was a good thing the sun was shining on my comfort and curiosity. Because the author, screenwriter Steven Pressfield, calls it like it is. He offers a map to bring creativity into form. Taking your art – painting, writing, musical composition, entrepreneurial pursuits, or [put your art here] – and bringing it out of the realm of idea into material reality.

He challenges the artist to create consistently and with a diligence I’ve never achieved. And now I know why.

Because I’m an amateur, not a professional.

 

Pressfield distinguishes a profession, such as me being a psychologist and a mother, from a professional approach to creating art.

Even reading a few pages about what this means is enough to offer a mindset intervention. Yet, perhaps not quite sufficient for changing a life long pattern of being an amateur artist. 

The magic word in this book? Resistance.

Page after page. Example after example, he describes the resistance which lies within each of us. Ready to strike with a healthy dose of self sabotage, distraction, doubt or any of those internal obstacles which inhibit success. 

Resistance crashes dreams. Sometimes before they get lift.

After a while, I stopped reading as an “artist” and saw the influence of resistance across so many areas of my life. 

This tiny book was a lovely wake up call. Kind of like an artistic bitch slap. 

It stings a bit, but it’s a good sting if your creativity longs to express more fully. 

Just when my cheeks were red and sore, I got to the good part of his map. I’d hate to spoil the end of any book. Let’s just say any artist who mentions resistance, resilience, and creativity along with angels and the muse has got my full attention.

I’m still a book lover. Piles tend to manifest in my home as if out of thin air. 

They are artistically arranged in every room, bringing me great pleasure and a nugget of wisdom any time I wander into the open page. I guess that makes me a “professional” book lover and seeker of knowledge.

As for the artist in me. Well, she’s still an amateur.

An amateur who is appreciating the artistry and creative capacity of my inner resistance. I’ve got a lot to unpack and toss here. Downsizing my resistance so I can upsize my professional engagement of the muse. Sounds like a map I can follow.  

Moral of this story?  Good things happen when you clean your room.

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Are you prone to procrastination? A recent study from Bishop’s University in Canada suggests that procrastinators may have higher levels of stress (no duh). And a potential for lower levels of self-compassion. Ok, that makes sense. Increasing self-compassion helps you recognize the downside of procrastination (and other kinds of “resistance”) without getting lost in negative rumination and emotions. Increasing self-compassion may help you decrease stress, disrupt negative self-view, and support positive behavioral change.Sounds like a map you can follow.

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Love’s Song

 

What if it was true?
That you were made of Love,
worthy of Love,
guided by Love,
empowered by Love?

What if it was true?
That Love Flowed Freely
as Life,
as Unified Consciousness,
as what is called
Angels, You, Them, Earth?

What if Loved simply moved?
All particles of Love
Aware as they
Danced the Light Divine.
Singing
I AM that Love.
I AM that Light Divine.

Let go the illusion
which leaves the ‘i’ 
separate, unworthy, afraid.
Longing to be
embraced
re-membered
sourced
by Love Itself.

Let go the false longing.


Witness the Truth of Love’s 
ever present movement.
Participate in the Song of Life.
I AM here. I AM available. 
I AM the Light Divine.

Gone, then, are the humans,
angels, earth forms.
Only Love moving 
as humans, 
angels,
earth forms.

Singing ONE song
which is 
Love’s Song. 

Let yourself know this is true.
This Song is What You Are.
Love’s Song
Broadcasting 
Beautifully
Always and 
Forever
Amen.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

“Love is a lot like air. It may be hard to see, but it’s in you and all around you.” Psychologist Rick Hanson, PhD isn’t pulling this idea out of thin air. Many scientists believe that love, defined broadly, has been the primary driving force behind the evolution of the brain. Groups of early humans who were skilled at understanding and caring for each other outcompeted less cooperative and loving groups. They lived to pass on genes of empathy, bonding, friendship, altruism, romance, compassion, and kindness. Love is in your DNA.

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Two Brides. One Love. New Eyes.

A Friday night outdoor wedding with more than a hint of rain. 

This was my thinking as I scanned my schedule last Friday. I had a small time window between work and picking up the “package.” The package being my mother-in-law. I realized I still had to try on my dress, find shoes, get gas in the car, write the card, eat lunch, and run an errand. Kinda wished I had thought this all out earlier in the week. 

I wandered around the house muttering “umbrella” so I wouldn’t forget to bring one. 

I tossed out the suede shoes for another pair that could tolerate wet grass and a heavy downpour. My skirt fit loosely so I packed a big safety pin in case there was wild dancing and it was at risk of falling down. (No one needs to see that.) With amazing efficiency, I was only 15 minutes behind schedule. Which is on time for me.

The package acquired and looking lovely, we hit the open road.

There’s something about heading to the shore that triggers a massive relaxation in my being. I put my bare feet up on the dashboard and enjoyed the ride. Even a threat of rain couldn’t dim my anticipation. I was heading to a big party to celebrate two lovely women who, like many, postponed their wedding a year due to COVID.

I hadn’t seen this extended family in almost a year. Not in person, that is. 

Arriving at a beautiful vineyard, I was transfixed by the lovely gardens and neat rows of vines. The day was warm and the sun was peeking through the clouds. Weather nerds were on their phones predicting the downpour had shifted course. We were not to be blessed by the holy water from the heavens. 

I imagined there were other blessings in store. 

As we claimed three rows together, I delighted in seeing everyone. It warms my heart even now, this pleasure of face to face contact, kisses, and hugs. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed all of them until I was in their presence. I’m moved by weddings, funerals, warmhearted stories, and hallmark commercials. Often to tears. So, I was already primed to flow a drips with the joy of settling in with these lovely people.

Here’s the thing about two brides. 

I knew these lovely ladies. I knew they each would walk down the aisle and profess their love and commitment for each other. I anticipated that wonder. I took that for granted. 

I had not considered, perhaps, how different such a union is from the prevailing societal expectations for weddings and marriage. 

Since high school, my friends, colleagues, and extended circles have always included people who favor same sex relationships. That was normative in my experience. And I’ve had plenty of conversations of their experience in the world, different from mine, which opened my mind and heart more fully.

These conversations weren’t only about sexual preference and the courage to live true to oneself.

As friends, the conversations were about everything.

 I wonder now if perhaps my comfort level actually left me insensitive to how deeply the dominant view of weddings as heterosexual was buried within my psyche. And our societal psyche.

The entrance of the bridal party took my breath away. 

Two by two, beautiful ladies in dresses of their own choosing walked down the grassy aisle. Alternating to reveal themselves as friends of this bride or that bride. There were a lot of bridesmaids and they just kept coming. Two by two.

Making a visual statement that resonated deeply within my body. All ladies with the exception of two brothers. All walking together as women. Together as men. Making a point. Priming us for the entrance of one gorgeous bride. And then another. 

This was a blessed union of two women. 

I saw that. Really saw that. And how different this was from just about every wedding I had witnessed with the expected male and female pairs leading a single bride down the aisle. I recognized that the last wedding of friends, who were a long time couple, had walked in by themselves. Just as I was used to seeing them walk into many gatherings over the years.

It was a welcome shaking of my stored inner photo of what weddings looked like.  

Here, I was greeted by a solidarity that boldly and beautifully stated the truth of the day.

This is what our love looks like.


The ceremony was precious, as would be expected. The brides glowed. Also expected.

The celebration was enthusiastic. Made more so because of the long separation we had all shared. The love for the couple was free and boisterous. The toasts were heart bursting and tear inducing all around. Leaving a glow around every body – however they identified. Looking around, at times, I felt my heart grow a few sizes.

What a wonder it is, to be free enough to celebrate love in all of its forms.

How very lucky we are to be free enough in our country, in our families and social groups, and in our inner world to experience such joy. So we danced. In celebration of what love looks like. For me, I was grateful that my visual wedding image, held deep within my memory, was dashed to the ground.

Priming me for my cousin’s bridal shower the next day. 

Two brides. Beautifully unique. At a small outdoor gathering in a relative’s home. I met my cousin’s bride to be. Not on FaceTime or via telephone updates about their lives. In real time with a real hug. I connected with more family that I had not seen in a long time. I met the future in-laws and family. All ladies of course. After all, it was a bridal shower. 

Oh, yes. And the Man of Honor. 

He did a great job, the bride’s brother. First, he burst my heart a bit more as he gamely handed over presents and managed the gift opening. Sitting at the feet of his sister and her bride-to-be.

Busting another myth about that role for me.

Enthusiastic, but inexperienced, he laughed with the group when the paper plate was handed to him. Confused, he looked for some rational reason a paper plate was part of this traditionally female ritual, so foreign to him. His mother rescued the Man of Honor, taking over the creation of a hat of ribbons for the bride to be.  (This is a strange ritual. Gotta acknowledge that.) 

My cousin hated that hat. She would’ve rather worn a top hat, I imagine. 

I look forward to that wedding. To celebrating this love in its form with more family I haven’t seen in forever. To shed some tears of happiness, dance in celebration, and share the warm glow. As for the details, I’m not sure how this wedding will look. I’m not asking. I’m open for anything.


I figure I have more to learn about the nature of love.

I’m all for breaking down more societal myths and melting some hearts. I imagine I’ll enter my third wedding of the summer, traditional in many ways, with new eyes. I expect to discover something more about the beauty of sharing one heart with another. More glowing on the horizon.

After all, Love is a great teacher.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Even as the world changes and LGBTQ rights gain recognition, there are plenty who believe same sex marriage is unacceptable. I’m not trying to change your mind. In fact, research suggests it’s hard to shift deeply entrenched beliefs for a few reasons. The brain has a tendency to “stay the course,” especially on matters deemed important. Letting go of preexisting beliefs, which serve to form identity and connect us with our tribe, may signal danger. The fear of exclusion or judgement of the group is primal, influential. Downplaying inner discomfort may seem safer than accommodate a new point of view. Exploring inner beliefs with curiosity, respect, and understanding opens the conversation. And that’s a start.

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Food Coma or Celestial Trance?

“I fell asleep and missed part of the meditation.”

That’s a pretty common statement at my workshops and retreats when I guide the group in a meditation or journey. Even when participants intend to stay relaxed and alert, they may find themselves drifting off into the Land of Nod.

It begs the question, are you just really that tired or is there something else going on?

That question surfaced last night as I enjoyed dinner on my deck. The weather was perfect and my newly potted flowers delighted my senses. It was a free for all night, so I had my plate and was ready to dig in before my husband.

Sitting alone, I looked forward to exploring a book about a Goddess who was calling my attention.

While I knew who She was, I hadn’t really paid her much mind over the years. A mention here or there, and a nod of acknowledgement if someone mentioned Her. Yet here She was, subtly present and a bit mysterious. Over the past two weeks, Her name appeared in my thoughts and emerged as my own voice called Her name.

I thought I was inviting Her into conversation, yet She remained quiet.

Her energy arriving in the night as if she were beckoning me closer. Not saying anything. In fact, there was no identifiable conversation beyond a statement of Her name. For me, so used to talking with celestial beings, this was different.

A bit of a mystery that wouldn’t reveal another clue.

So, I ordered a book focused upon Her story which was filled with devotional writing and prayers. It arrived yesterday and I felt a sense of anticipation as I settled in to eat and read. Beyond a few facts I didn’t know, I found the collection of prayers and descriptions stilted. They left me flat.

I was seeking a living mystery and I encountered other people’s dead prose.

 

Two details left me filled with wonder and appreciation. Her intent and Her miracle.

I’m not one who generally entertains saints or deities like this, but these two details revealed an intent of connection, sustenance, and belonging which has sustained for centuries. I felt an abiding gratitude to this mythic Goddess who could unite and nourish disparate peoples.

Close to the end of this little book, I went out like a light.

I was mildly aware that my eyes were closed and body was limp. As if Rip van Wrinkle himself had done me in. A brief attempt to wake up was unsuccessful and I surrendered to the trance.

I heard patterns of sound as the birds sang and the trees danced with the wind in my backyard.

I was aware of a conversation, rich and deep, within the movement of the world around me and the warmth upon my face. There were no words nor visions, save a barely glimpsed pattern that was mirroring the symphony playing in the natural world.

Occasionally I felt my body, uncomfortable in a slumped posture, yet unwilling to be disturbed.

Surrendering to the discomfort, I followed my senses as they felt, saw, heard, and knew what was singing throughout my neighborhood. Not one tangible transcription nor idea was garnered during this time. Yet, I knew in the depth of my being that the experience was essential and the conversation rich.

And then it was over. The stiffness in my body suggested that some time had passed.

It was difficult to surface. If it were morning and I was in bed, I would’ve definitely rolled over and let sleep overtake me. Yet, I knew it was time to get up. As I sat up, my husband came out to see how my nap was. Witnessing my lolling head, he had figured I needed some sleep so ate alone inside. Nice guy.

It could’ve been a nap or a food coma, except for the rich conversation that I couldn’t remember nor translate.

Well, I couldn’t translate it consciously that is. I had no doubt that every nuance of the communication was now singing within my body field. And for that I was deeply grateful.

While you might be tired with a body primed for relaxation, there’s usually something more going on when you get knocked out.

When your energy and brain waves shift to another frequency, you may feel like you are relaxed and drifting or end up snoring like a sailor after a bender. It all depends upon the interaction between the subtle energy – the high vibrational information that is streaming and the subtle energy that makes up your system.

“I don’t know where I went or what happened.”

That’s another common statement during my workshops. During the guided meditations and journeys, that is. If folks fall asleep when I’m talking, then either they are really tired or I’m really boring. Both are possibilities.

When you engage higher frequency beings (eg, Angels, Deities, Guides) and Divine information, your subtle energy field shifts naturally.

Relaxing and opening so that conversations at multiple levels may inform you. While amplified in a group or a sacred setting, this experience may occur when reading a book, sitting in meditation, or during hypnagogic states – that twilight as you fall to sleep or awaken. Just about anything can lead you into an informational exchange with higher vibrational energy.

Even when you are blissfully unaware of what was shared and how your energy was subtly shifted.

I’ve had a few food comas. Usually they involve lots of pasta, Chinese food, or way too many cookies. And I’m as tired as at the next person at the end of the day. Yet, fatigue and food were not the culprits on my deck. It took a long walk in the woods to integrate this new energy into my body. Leaving me relaxed, grateful, and open to the next exchange.

I’m dancing with a mystery I don’t understand. Curious and patient, I’m okay to let Her lead.

I do wonder how many times you’ve explained away a celestial encounter by interpreting it as a nap. Or a dream. Or a full stomach. The thinking mind wants to make sense of things that surprise you.

The Mystery needs no explanation.

Have fun exploring how you interact with the beautiful conversations that are streaming to you in so many ways. It helps to set an intent to become more aware of the subtle and “knock you out” obvious ways the celestial realms are informing you. If concern arises at the thought of these conversations taking you unawares, brighten up your Light Globe. This practice supports your intuitive awareness, strengthens the boundary of your biofield (aura), and cleanses your energy body.

I’ve recorded the Light Globe meditation as a free download for you.

Access it at the bottom of my AngelicEnergetics page (scroll down to find it). Download and begin! In time, you won’t need the recording as you’ll make the practice your own.

The creative energy, back behind every form and myth, has plenty to reveal. Enjoy your “conversations.

 

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

HeartWarming

 News

Don’t think you’re intuitive? Don’t be so quick to rule it out.  There is a growing body of research on what is known as “intuitive intelligence.”  Researchers at Leeds University in England explore a body of research on nonconscious aspects intuitive perception, such as implicit knowledge. It is commonly recognized that intuitive perception plays an important role in learning, business decisions, medical diagnosis, spiritual growth, healing, and general well-being. Researchers at the Institute of HeartMath suggest three types of intuitive processes: implicit learning/knowledge, energetic sensitivity, and nonlocal intuition.