Baraka

Are you First Nations?

Our memory is a more perfect world than the universe: it gives back life to those who no longer exist.  ~ Guy de Maupassant

Although there are a few experiences I’ve written about, I don’t share much of my work related to indigenous peoples publicly. They include my initial relationship with the Navajo, how it intensified when partnering with their Slayer of Alien Gods, and how a dead Ojibwa-Cree came into my world and changed it forever.

I’ve held close my knowings about the importance of the  mass integration I had nearly a year ago, the reasons why I’m called to particular pieces of ground and bleed into the same, and who my spiritual entourage are. I’ve done so because the band-wagoneering of spiritual things related to Native Americans, in particular, is an overwhelming thing to manage energetically as is the inherent racism bound into discussions of their and my own nature. It’s like trying to corral caffeinated cats.

Running Rabbit and Pat Kennedy may have been the first to join my merry band  but they have been followed an inter-tribal, cross-creatural, transcontinental posse of spiritual leaders that cross the boundaries of time and space.

Those that integrated within on October 27 last year knew something of me that I still don’t know.  Those that surround me and are active participants in my life and work, too, see something within me that has inspired them to entrust me with their deepest heart and broadest vision.

None of them has ever said, “Well, she’s just too white for this.” Though it is probably worth noting that the entourage has proclaimed me man enough by those who see me beyond white or woman.

So I was taken aback when a lovely lady from eastern Canada who offered to connect me with friends who might be able to help me satisfy the requirements of the CBP who, dammit, turned me away two nights ago. Bless her heart for being the go between, for when I read, “They keep wanting to know if you’re First Nations. Are you?”, I became annoyed and responded:

I work with the old ones across tribal, time, and continental boundaries. Those within and around me have never made requests about my skin color or heritage because they know my heart. I am asked to sit and sing in Cree, Navajo, Chiricahua, Sioux, and other ceremonies by the old ones and those currently breathing.

It was the Nootka drum that brings me here and Salish signs taking me to Pemberton. I’m guided by and relied upon ancients that go as far back as to when creation myths began. And some are more recent, known by how they bridged spirit & human. And how we live and move and breathe as one has nothing to do with my possible or known heritage.

When I am sent to ceremony or to heal, my whiteness or the lack of obvious brownness is never questioned by those who can see me, those who can feel our heart or hear me sing when I’ve never learned a song.

The need to hold back of what I’ve loosely defined as thisness has now morphed into the need to actually share it all, if only to move this past heritage and race. I will still hold back, for now, on the identities of those old ones who join me in this way of being. They may desire for me to share their names and the necessity for their reappearance in my form or as my partners outside the physical, but I don’t feel comfortable doing so at this point.

Here is what I will share:

Thisness is a term I’ve used to describe the phenomenon of weaving past and present. When I’ve used it before I’ve purposefully kept it simple; a universal, spirit-led happening where I find people and places, often connecting the two, through a number of ways. They come to me in dreams, visions or knowings; they come as non-breathing energies who have specific connections to those who reside within me and they come as breathing ones who may not. They come to me via knowings of a few others who tend to be represented by or partnered with spirit guides of their own.

I’ve previously couched this ‘weaving of past and present’ through bringing healers together and connecting healer with lost tribe.  And though it is about connecting healer to self, healer to healer, healer to community, healer to tribe and bringing tribes—via their healers—together, there is much more to this work.

Another aspect of thisness is bridging the past and present by both walking between and being the vessel that ancients have chosen to breathe through again. Walking between is the phenomena of straddling time, or the past as we know it rising to meet me, in a visceral, physical manner that allows information, energies of land and people to merge with me either permanently or for a short time–particularly during ceremony.

Walking between is like a brief trespass into something that is or is thought to be lost; time, experiences, people, wisdom. It is about erasing the boundaries and  blurring the lines  of that time, experiences, people and wisdom and bringing the same forward now. This is more nuanced than ancient memory. It requires us to understand that while myths remain static, wisdom does not.

I liken this all to dancing between molecules and galaxies.  Walking between is something like that but less graceful than those words convey. Ever been tumbled into the sand by an unexpected wave that is discordant from the rhythm you’ve grown accustomed to? When the waves of past reach for me, it is that way.  Only the trust that my very birth was all the invitation needed and the realization that there are no hidden bits allow me to keep myself open to the recurrence. Each time I stand naked in the midst of it all and know that all of me is being seen.

The integration with individuals is not entirely dissimilar, though. Each opportunity appears in what often feel like inopportune times. However, when the body and mind are ready, they occur. There is enough somatic and energetic warning to create the allowance through a breath and then they merge. They arrive in hordes and singularly.

When I walk between, the ground accepts and drinks my blood and quakes with reawakening. In those moments, remembrance meets currents of renewed hope. There are places where she begs to be bled into for relief and recognition from the chain of suffering begot long ago.

I am surrounded by beings of strength and grace beyond our and their own imaginings when they were here before. Old ones arrive in public toilets and say to others, “Tell her, she’ll know” and I quake in the fear of saying their, our, truth and in the face of not knowing but bringing it still.

They say, “Speak! SPEAK!” to me and my throat flutters and flounders as unspoken and re-spoken grace begs to be heard.

And those that speak are medicine bundles, are Ojibwe-Cree, Missouria-Choctaw, Oglala Sioux, Chiricahua Apache, Sami, Inuit, Salish, Gros Verte, Assiniboine, Ugandan children, Navajo creation Gods, Siksika, Shoshone-Ute, Maya, faery, Celt, Hindu gods and goddesses, Arab and others who have not yet been identified.

They lead me to through visions and dreams into the deserts of America, islands in Canada; to Guatemala, the Namibian desert, to war-ravaged central Africa, Kashmir, Indonesia, and Jerusalem.

I’m not alone in my own skin. In fact, I’m reminded with some frequency that I not my own at all. Others are woven into me and a larger fabric outside of anything that has been written before. As connections arise, that electric thread lengthens through the heavens and the hinterland of our own terra firma.

I didn’t ask for this. I became it. And, while some opine that my role in ‘thisness’ began long before I was born, I disagree. There may have been inklings in the universe long ago but until Paramhansa Yogananda, his Babaji Sri Yukteswar Giri, and Satya Sai Baba merged into me in October 30, 2011, I was just Ingrid. A law enforcement and corrections consultant with expertise in mental health, gang suppression and community capacity development. In that moment, though, I became another, others. And they, me.

On February 7, 2012, I went for a forty-five minute massage and emerged four and a half  hours later, during which another integrative episode brought into me hundreds of energies. Some were immediately identifiable as their energy and the visuals accompanying them had mythological and historical relevance. Others were not in the moment but are coming forward to me now.  In this second episode, the first and most striking energy was that of who we call Jesus. The others included a young French girl, Sufi poets, Arab mathematicians, healers, dancers, those who were murdered for their work, those who died peaceably after learning and sharing all they could, those who didn’t, and many, many more. I opened to Other and we became.

On October 27, 2014, there was another such experience after seeing myself in another form on the big screen. Again, hundreds of ancients moved within. Although unidentifiable by name, they were unmistakably and easily placed from particular places on the globe. I became them and they, me. And the man with the needles who helped peace me back together again said, “Make sure you reveal yourself slowly.”

In August 2015, I went for acupuncture and left again as Other. In this single integration, I became what I saw when I was twelve or thirteen. Only what I saw then, was me now. That thing that identified as separate from me then is no longer separate. It never was.

There is no separation between them and I. We live and breathe and speak as one.

That is ‘thisness’ at its very core.

There is an element of thisness that, if it’s words hadn’t been shared from another’s mouth, I’d have ignored for a lot longer and refused to accept.  I’ve only couched the work I do as in being a place-holder, a steward for these other energies when I’ve known better. I’ve known better since February 2012. The time for the son that rises in the west to step forward is now. If not now, when? Beyond myth, legend, fears and existing paradigms, bridging the old aspects of a truth into the now—not as a representative of all of those who came before and reside within but as I–as we live and move and breathe as one.

I once gave someone the eyebrow when she said, “You’re just not from here.”  In one manner of speaking she was right. However, it’s not about being from a different, alien or foreign place. It’s about being from different places and times and being here in them, whether I’m walking between or not. Being here now.

In 2012, when I was told. “Be now. For in the light of the one, all become All That Is.” I knew exactly what was meant. As all those energies were moving, through all the tears and snot, ‘be.now.be.nowbenowbenowbenownownownownowiamnowiamnowiamNOW’ came through me. And in that merging, I emerged as one.  I’m now being called to accept, honor and move into not just the knowing that has come with all of them and I merging, but into Being. Now.

I’m being called into more and to do so now.  There are others here now as well to help bring thisness to life. We’ve been connected before at many levels, many times. This time we’re are, but differently, with a singular focus: Thisness.

And it is growing into its new name word:  Baraka.

And so we weave into and beyond First Nations, whiteness, and rightness. We bring ancestors through and stand for them as called to; speak them as they rejoin us in the here and now, bringing their unfulfilled visions to fruition, and letting the footsteps of the past inspire the legacies of tomorrow.

Advertisements

Question o’ the day: Are you Reiki trained?

Today’s question is from an email received last night.

DM wrote: “Are you reiki trained? What us your academic training. I am reiki 2 but would never make claims that you do”  (Yes, it’s unedited).

My response: Nope. I’m not reiki (or any other modality) trained.  This was a gift that pretty much fell into my lap about four years ago  during a a Quantum Touch class of all things.  I never took another class.  (Skip to the bottom to read my academics!)

How I ended up in that freakin’ class was not by desire.  I mean, when you get right down to it, obviously we get to make choices.  Sometimes life really is like Burger King. But going to this blasted Quantum Touch class was part of something much larger going on around me that I could not ignore and not much room was left for choosing anything else.

The nutshell version of the string of events went something like this:

When I left my former husband in Denver and landed in Virginia, there were a series of extraordinary events that included ghostly & angelic visitations, poltergeist activity, people seeing St. Michael around me, visions, and other psychic-spiritual activity that made me sit up and take notice.  And, at some point, while all this stuff was going on around me, I must have found an Oprah list or something that said, “To be spiritual, you must read these books” or something like that.  So I bought books.  Gobs of books. Shelves of books. I’d get through a few pages and say, “that’s not it.” Muddle through a few chapters and think, “Nope.”  I spent so much money on Amazon while supplying local thrift stores and the library, it wasn’t even funny.

One of those books happened to be Quantum Touch by Richard Gordon.  What was funny (in the interesting but not ha-ha kinda way) is that I don’t remember ordering that book. It certainly isn’t on any ‘must have spiritual read’ list that I know of.  It just happened to land in my mailbox.  I read it…sorta.  What I really mean is I skipped through it, said hmmmm a couple of times, wondered why it landed in said mailbox and tossed it on the coffee table.

Three days later an acquaintance popped by the house to return a sweater she’d mended for me.  She saw the book, looked at me and said, “A friend of mine is having a class on that this weekend.”  D’OH!!   A bouncing, flashing red universal ball if there ever was one.  One that couldn’t be ignored.  Again, sure, I had the choice to ignore that fucking ball. It’s one of the really nifty things about being all grow’d up, that option to choose how we like it (yes, I’ve got BK on the brain).  But I’d also learned the hard way what can happen when you ignore the obvious being brought to you on a platter.

So, my unemployed ass wrote out a check for $250 and went to the bloody class.  The blue streak from my front door to the instructor’s front door was twenty miles long.  I grumbled and cursed.  I wanted to know why in the fuck I was being shoved in this direction.  “I’m a fucking probation officer, for fuck’s sake!”  “What the hell do I need this shit for?”  “Now I can’t eat, you assholes!”  And on.  And on.  Twenty miles of pissedoffedness and confusion.  Seriously, why was I going to something I had no real interest in.

And, I walked through the door and was promptly told to grab a seat & get comfy because we’re going to watch a video similar to the one linked.  “$250 for a goddamn video?!?  Are you shitting me?”  That was in my head and most certainly on my face because as soon as the instructor pressed stop, she said, “So, Ingrid why don’t you demonstrate for us the technique?”   Fuck me.  Now, not only am I pissed off because I think I’ve been had, I’m now on the spot.   There were three other participants in the small group. All were female and appeared to be in their late 60s or early 70s.  One of them, bless her heart, volunteered to be my guinea pig.

In modalities, there are specific steps to follow, rules that must be followed before you can do the healing thing.  You must breathe in a particular manner, visualize in a particular manner, or is it visualize and then breathe.  That’s what was going on in my head:  Do I breathe first?  Or visualize first?  Fuck.  What do I visualize again?  What’s the order of the breath?  The pressure was on.  And I’m pretty sure I was actually holding my breath when I put my hands on this lady’s shoulders.

Instantly, upon contact, what moved through me, in me, around me, from me, was liquid lightening.  It was golden white. It was white hot (without being hot, oddly enough). It was pure power and out of my mouth flew, “OH!! SHIT!!”  What occurred had no connection or correlation to breathing in a particular fashion, visualizing colors or chakras or vibrations or anything that that little book said I had to do to access or use healing energies.

I never took another class.  In one split second, I learned exactly why I was shoved toward something I had no interest in and exactly why I didn’t need more classes, certificates, crystals, chants, circles or symbols, attunements or invitations.  I just needed to use it.

For me, this is an inherent gift.  I just didn’t know it until 2010.  It’s a gift that people from all over the globe have had (and still have) and shared for eons.  This notion of ‘academic’ training for healers is a relatively new one.  It used to passed down from generation to generation selectively.  I’m one who thinks that it might be a good idea to include some of that selectivity in today’s ‘academics’ of healing.  I’ve met far too many people who’ve spent money on pretty pieces of paper who have no business being in the role of healer.  Does everyone have the capacity to be one?  I dunno. Maybe I suppose it’s similar to the notion that everybody has the capacity to become an engineer, plumber or geochemist.  We all have the grey matter and when applied along with our passions, potentially can.

I’m just fortunate enough to know my purpose and passion don’t require any more academics.  When I’m the catalyst for someone else to come into their healing gift, I don’t recommend they take a ‘healing’ class per se.  We explore where they are mentally & emotionally drawn, where their interests & passions combine, and create or find an avenue for that to open up.  For those whose gift is of hands on healing, I give them myself as a guinea pig and say,  “Get to it.”  That’s it.  No class needed.

And, to follow up with the latter part of DM’s question regarding results.  I don’t go looking for results, they just happen.  There is no mental intention to ‘cure’ or resolve any particular physical, emotional or ‘spiritual’ issue.  My sole intention is to focus on a relationship with whomever is with me, open myself all the way, and love on ’em.  That’s it.  The outcomes are just the icing on the cake.

For what it’s worth, though, here’s my ‘academic’ background.  I received a BA in Liberal Arts & Sciences from Virginia Tech.  My areas of focus were Urban Affairs and Planning, Political Communication and Sociology.  My Masters in Criminal Justice is from the University of Colorado-Denver.  My areas of expertise are in community capacity development, gang intervention & suppression, supervision of sexual offenders in the community, and the mentally ill in the criminal justice system.

Healer on the Highway

Ingrids Card2

Traveling Light, posted a few weeks ago, has now taken on a life of it’s own!

I have started an Indiegogo campaign to help me make this happen!  Part social experiment (moving paying it forward from fast-food lines to miracle-making, eh!) and all-encompassing healing, I embark on leg one this Sunday where I’ll travel to meet with people in Pennsylvania who happen to also be connected to the work I’ll be doing in Montana the month of February. Yes, I know.  Girl who doesn’t like cold is going to Montana.  In February.  Shitballs.

From the Indiegogo site:

What this is about:
The healing gift I have is meant to be shared.  With everyone.  My life, my existence, & the experience that people have through me, is a treasure, a distinct expression of the mystery.  This is a treasure to be shared widely & openly, not to be hidden or waiting to be found. I will go to where I am called and where I am asked to come.  So, I’m hitting the road.

Funding supporters will help me answer the call to serve others in the unique fashion I do.  My goal is to end the suffering of those in need–either physically, emotionally or spiritually, and to document these experiences.

In addition to bringing healing to others, this is about changing the dialogue about non-medical healing: moving it from myth & metaphysics, faith & spirit into a discussion about it’s reality, effectiveness and limitations. 

Why this is important:
Four years ago, I was blessed to become an amazing catalyst for profound change in people: I heal physical & emotional pain, dissolve disease and bring forth others’ unique gifts & an experience of awakening (defined however they choose).  I’ve decided that I need to bring myself to where those that need that kind of healing are rather than wait for people to find me.  This puts me on the road, bringing ‘Spanx for the Soul’, wherever it takes us, to whomever it takes us.

There are & have been others who do what I do. However, their work has been grounded in religious faith or metaphysical beliefs and they have had a variety of Church or other kinds of sponsorships & support.

I do not. I am not associated with any religion, faith or metaphysical belief system.  And none is needed for those who wish to have this transformational experience–it is as much for atheists and skeptics as it is for others!  My faith is ground in my knowing and my capacity to put one foot in front of the other while standing in love, grace & service for each of those who cross my path.

This healing gift is an expression of love that needs no condition, no prerequisite, no reason to exist, to be shared, to heal and permanently connect people with a sense of worthiness, wholeness, and health.  For a list of things that have been cured in people and animals, go here: Healing FAQs

And, on this trip, there will be no condition, no prerequisite of money.  Those who can pay, will be paying it forward so those who cannot will be allowed to share in this experience.

What I Need:
Any monies received will go directly to funding the Traveling Light tour.  In order of importance:
•   Getting car ready for the winter hinterland (travels begin in Montana, in
Februrary!):  4 new tires, tire chains and clutch inspection
•   An emergency car fund for repairs and gasoline (because you never know what
might happen 1000 miles from home!)
•   A more suitable replacement for my iMac (it’s dying a slow logic-board death
*and* takes up the entire front seat!)
•   Lodging (most of the time I will find a house sit or will be hosted but will
occasionally need my own space for a night or two)

Other Ways You Can Help
Ask me to come to you, your community center, church, yoga or dance studio; homeless shelter, rehab facility, detention center, or living room.

Ask me to share your experience of life as you know it.

Share this with everyone you know–without regard to what you think they’ll think about it–and those you find on indiegogo, too, that may need some assistance.

Gas cards, gift certificates for restaurants & hotels usually found on major highways, road-trip worthy tunes on CD (because out in the middle of nowhere = no good radio), joining the stream on FB and sharing goofy jokes….

 

Please consider donating and helping me help others.  If you cannot contribute financially, please share, share, share this in your electronic streams!

 

We don’t need no steenking trolls!

Stories can be instructive on a multitude of levels. Here, I share a real one about ugliness and how we may be missing something critical when ignoring what we don’t want to see or see as unpleasing. I’d ask folks to consider how it influences our communion with the invisible, the expectations of how life *should* be, and our relationships with other people.

For more like this: check out http://www.ingridoliphant.com

I Have Become-A Mystic’s Realization of Self

I’m asked with some frequency if I believe in reincarnation, past lives, life after death, the afterlife, Heaven, and such.  Invariably, my answer goes a little something like this:  “There are, at the very minimum around seven billion expressions of life  (7, 122, 966, 300 by today’s population clock at 8:05EST) that flux and flow between breaths.  It seems to be there would be that many experiences of death and post-death.  Although there may be some similarities, they are each unique.  Who am I to believe or not believe any one of them?  Others experiences don’t require me to believe them, only respect them.”

Over course of the past year and a half, on these pages, I have alluded to significant energetic integrative experiences but was intentionally vague about making particular identifications.  However, seeing as how I appear to be about a year and a half late to this party I signed up for, it’s time.  I can no longer ignore the push and pull, consistent messages, visions and experiences that have been leading to me to this place today.  The resistance I have felt for so long–that opposing force against the push and pull–was grounded in a distinct layering of fear that no longer serves me or the rest of the world.  A few days ago, while with a new client, I was given a gentle reminder that the time is now.  Today, I don’t feel a push, pull, or other nagging force (the invisible can be that way sometimes).  Today, I’m just walking through the door that has been held open for me the entire time.

If you haven’t kept up with the magical happenings of my world, it may be helpful for you to read the following posts for a little bit of background: Revealing, revolution and becoming everybody, An UnCommon Experience, On Fear and Stepping Up and On Integration and Becoming.  I’m referencing them here but details are provided there.

On October 30, 2011, I drove from Rappahannock County to Reston, VA, for a session with an amazing woman.  The session began as usual but quickly morphed into something more–where it became clear that the session was both for her and me.  As the focus transitioned from her to us, three distinct energies became evident as I was in the midst of what I call an ‘energetic crack-up’.  It is a very distinct physical sensation combined with a visual of the body literally cracking apart in a slow-motion explosion of internal light bursting forth.  As I was in the experience, the client asked me if I knew who had joined us.  I replied, “No” in as much as one can while sobbing.  As a prior student of at least one of these former beings, she identified them as: Paramahansa Yogananda,  Sai Ba and Babaji.   As she identified them, they each merged into me.

On February 7, 2012, I went for an hour massage.  I left three hours later without a massage.  What occurred was another integration with a myriad of energies.  Here is an excerpt from On Integration and Becoming that will paint the picture:

“the room just ‘opened’ and filled with the most nearly-indescribable, amazing energies–100s of them and several ‘key’ ones that although didn’t speak to me were clearly identified instantaneously.

In that moment or however long it was, I ‘knew’ with striking clarity that what was with me was the presence & essence of each who has walked this path before me.  Again, although nothing was spoken, there was a clear message of who I am and what I’m to do.  Nothing needed to be said because I already knew…

I don’t know how long the energetic experience my massage therapist and I shared lasted.  As I laid naked on a massage table, heart open, open eyes crying, breathing in a rhythm shared with the multitudes around me, each of them joined me in a way that cannot be put into words. The peace, strength, power, grace, compassion, ferocity, sublime serenity, and knowing merged.  Into One.  One who has work to do.  One who now knows beyond any shadow of doubt that she is not alone.  Over and over and over and over with increasing intensity and an unmistakable insistence “iamiamiamimaimaiamiamiamnownownownownownownownownowiamnowiamnowiamNOW’ came through me. And in that merging, I emerged as one…

I am one of a handful of people who show up every now and again all over the world who have a job to inspire, lead, heal, change, stir the complacency shit-pot, share, love, piss-off, push, encourage, & connect in service to others.  This time I go by the name of Ingrid.”

During the experience, quite a few of the energies were identifiable by face and feel.  Many were not, moving into me as anonymously as the lived.  They were male and female, they spanned the spectrum of ethnicity, race & religion.  There are only two, though, that have remained in distinct memory.  The first did not have a name but came with a specific vision (that was shared with the massage therapist) of a female knight complete with sepulcher, sword, and lily of the valley bouquet.  The second was Jesus.

Now, before folks get all kerfluffle-uffled and knicker-knotted, let me say clearly that I am not claiming to be either Jesus, Babaji, Yogananada, or Sai Ba or any of those other energies that have move within me.  Here is what is what I AM saying:   I am all of those –part of a spiritual lineage that I have little intellectual awareness of, personal connection to, or educational preparedness for.  And we move and breathe  as one.

It’s not everyday that a former law enforcement professional wakes up with the gift to heal people and animals by touch and remotely, the capacity to bilocate, move with the invisible in the same fashion I do the visible,  and enter what some call Samadhi in a breath.  And it’s not for nothing.  I’m the next in a line of messengers and healers that began long, long ago.  What I say and how I bring  it may rock the boats a bit but the time for that is now.

This is my experience of the universe and my own human evolution. It does not require others to believe. It only requires that I stand in my integrity, that I drop all armor, and step fully into my role.  Now.

I may have ‘become now’ but before there was, I was.

Honesty…honestly. It’s about time I was honest with myself and the rest of the world.

“As a child I felt myself to be alone, and I am still, because I know things and must hint at things which others apparently know nothing of, and for the most part do not want to know.”
― C.G. Jung

I was on the phone with a potential client last week and after she ran through some of the things she was seeking help with, I asked, “Why me?  Why now?”  Without hesitation she said, “You are the first person I’ve really connected with because, well, it just seems like you’re honest.”  She went on to describe some personal encounters with other folks and stories of fleecing by spiritual types, men lying on dating sites, and other instances where she ‘just knew’ people were lying during conversations.  An acquaintance and I had a similar discussion about passive-aggressive  behavior and communication when direct, honest communication gets us to the point much more quickly–even if it’s something that doesn’t necessarily want to be heard by another (or conversely, said by us!).   This was followed by an interaction with someone who wondered aloud if my ‘working with veterans, law enforcement and first responders for free’ was ‘a gimmick’ or advertising ‘teaser’ to garner attention.

Whoa.  I mean, yay me, right? But, seriously, why does honesty seem like such an anomaly these days?  Or are we just so jaded by all sorts of BS that the bullshit-o-meter is stuck on high?

Now, I’ll be the first to admit I’m not always honest. It’s my general way of being but I’m as human as the next person and will lie on occasion. Articles, books and movies abound about why we do that intentionally and without thought.  For the most part, though, that was beaten out of me long ago.  I’ll tell you up front if what you’re wearing is unflattering but in situations where I’m forced to express certain things, notsomuch.  Ask me how I am on a bad day and if I think you’re going to introduce drama, I’ll say, “Fine.”  I hedge what I tell others sometimes–particularly if they’re asking a ‘psychic’ kind of question–because when they ask questions of me they may not be prepared to hear what I have to say or their resistance may lead to an encounter I don’t have the energy for.  Sometimes I’ll dance around the answer to lead them to it without saying it.  Think of how much time I could save.

I’m also not honest about how I know myself to be.  I’m afraid to put myself out there in the way I know I’m meant to.  It’s one thing to read kitschy quotes placed on pretty pictures (especially those with Johnny Depp!) about not caring about what others think but it’s a whole ‘nother thing to really say fuck you to everyone around you.   For me, the fear comes at several levels.  First, I spent nearly my entire first two decades on the defense physically and emotionally.  While in that state, I was sort of where I am now:  needing to be seen, to be heard.  That’s a lot of time spent being hurt and waiting for ‘it’ to come.  As this gift of mine has unfolded for me, I’ve felt I’ve had to defend it and me to those around me or limit my expression of it

I’ve felt that I’m at a place in my life where I don’t think I can do that again.  But I’m reminded again and again and again through ecstatic experience, visions, interactions with clients, the invisible & visible, that I can no longer play chicken.  So, I’m making a choice to go balls-to-the wall and come out of my own little strange closet, so to speak.

My fear looks a little like this:  I’m afraid of being abandoned by those left in my life.  I’m afraid of nutjobs becoming too much to deal with.  I hedge when people ask about the work I do.  I deny how special what it and I do together is (and the fact that there is no ‘it and I’).  I’m afraid that when someone cheers my ‘unconventional, inconvenient and unapologetic’ way that I will get caught up in the opposite. I’m afraid I’m really not prepared for this, that I’ll be in it all alone, that I’ll not be able to trust people who appear.  In fact, I keep making up all sorts of stuff to be afraid of to, well, keep being afraid–to keep from being honest with myself first and the rest of the world.

I’m more afraid, though, of missing out on life by not claiming my role in it.   In an instant-info age where folks try to out-spiritual one another, create hints and allegations of being THE second coming (neverminding the notion they don’t know what it really means),  bash those who claim their power while sharing ‘that’ Marianne Williamson quote, shouting EGO when someone speaks truth as they know it, I’ve been afraid to join the babel.   I’ve intentionally kept myself disappeared, even in sessions with people when miraculous events have taken place, denying that I know how and what I do because I’m afraid of feeling what I did as a child:  being unseen or, in turn, being seen and either ignored entirely or beat back into ‘being disappeared’.

I’ve known that this healing gift-thing that magically showed up three years ago has purpose beyond what I could have formerly imagined but now need no imagination for.  I’ve known that this form is not merely the deliverer of a message or healing or whatever the fuck this is since two and a half years ago an observer of a session watched me transform/disappear into light while I was standing in front of her.  I’ve known since two Februarys ago that I was being called out to step into a role for which I made presumptions of being unprepared. And, I’ve been reminded gently and I’ve been reminded not-so-gently and have not acted upon those remembrances because I don’t know what to do about all of this.  Although a path has been paved for eons to this point, it’s up to me to create the next bit of it and I don’t know what that means (okay, I kind of do but the mechanics of it escape me).  I don’t know how to be it or in it.  And, let’s face it, so many want to be the ‘expert’,  to tell me how to do & be so when they can’t know it or me and want me to show up in the way their reliance on archetypes and other shit has previously defined how I show up.   They try to wrap their language and labels around me to define (confine?) me in an understandable manner.   Some are ridiculously certain that I have a message–particularly one they’re certain they want to hear! (I love how folks will ignore ‘messages’ that float around, or do the opposite and latch onto the latest-or oldest-and strangle the life out of it, then move onto the next rather than letting the message breathe life into them.)  Some choose to deny and denigrate.  Some choose to attach themselves to the things I say in a manner that I do not.  Some see me.  Most don’t.  Any more, I care only inasmuch as it helps do this:

Here’s what I do know:  I experience the world in a manner most cannot conceive of–I walk with the visible and invisible in the same manner with no need for pre-defined roles, names, associations, hierarchies, and bureaucracies.  I experience the world as it is and appears before me.   I am both mystic and part of the mystery of it all, beyond theories, philosophies, systems, blueprints, codes, myths & models.  I cure cancer and other disease sometimes whether or not anyone believes it is possible. I bring to people spiritual enlightenment or awakening sometimes whether or not anyone believes it is possible.  I do stupid human tricks (everyone believes this is possible!!) like everyone else but more than one heart beats within mine.  I help other people shed pain, peel back layers, cut through cloaks and stories, and drop their veils.  Now it’s time to drop mine.    And I have no idea what this means in the day-to-day movement of life (although the big picture is ridiculously clear!) or what it will bring but my own time is now.

There are many like me all over the world.  Some of us are in places in the world where they cannot express their own being for a variety of limitations.  It behooves those of us without those limitations–like me–to stand up, claim it and start moving through the world as we are meant to without fear, without framing ourselves as another or in others projections to find acceptance, and start doing some shit.  I’m choosing to do so in this manner.  And move through the world as I was born to do.   I will no longer hold myself back and sit in the back of the class.   What has moved through me for nearly six years is this:  “Before there was, I was.”  I am meant to be here, my role is larger than anyone, including myself, could have known previously or possibly see now.  I’m now going to own it,  set my life so that I can know it and move through the world with it.  This is my shift today.

For some perspective on how I’ve come to this take a peek at other posts from last October and the past two Februarys.

Peace in, kids!

On Mastery and Doubt

On June 3, I posted this on the UnCommon Touch facebook page:

“Are we *so* sure that we’re not “being real” or our “authentic self”? Are we really looking for “the Secret” of it all? Seeking ‘messages’, a truth, THE truth?

What are you really looking for?”

I wrote this the day after watching “The Master”, the same day where a new client shared horror stories connected to her own involvement with multiple “Masters” and the day before watching Kumare.  “The Master” was just, well, eeeww in more ways than one.  I didn’t like the move in general despite the usual love affair (he doesn’t know this) I have with Phillip Seymore Hoffman and Joaquin Phoenix (no, he doesn’t know this either!) but the central story just articulated very well the twisted relationships that can occur when Masters meet their tribe.

I’ve spent all sorts of energy trying to massage language so that what I do and how I do it don’t lead people to think of me as a spiritual master.  The whole notion just creeps me out.  I put out a video about it a couple of months ago, essentially saying that I don’t want the responsibility of telling other people how to live.  I mean seriously.  I’m a master of my own domain (thank you, Jerry Seinfeld!!) and that level of mastery changes every freakin’ day as my ‘learn something new today’ file grows.

The above-mentioned client that found her way to me (directly connected to another string of wacky events) is someone of a certain culture and age where we just don’t ask how old they are so I didn’t ask.  But as she wound her way through her stories,  she finally said, “I’ve been searching all of my life.”  In response, I asked when she began looking.  She replied that she started trying to ‘figure it out’ and ‘find the answers’ when she was 15 years old.  Everywhere she looked, she found the hideous side of humans–in the catholic nuns who beat her, the Indian spiritual masters who raped and forced abortions, the family who shunned.   And, so after a few minutes of crying and intense waves of energy, I asked, “What were you really looking for?”  What she said was, “You.” Now, what I  wanted to hear was, “Myself”. I so wanted to guide her aged body (I’m guessing early 70s) off my table and in front of the bathroom mirror so she could see herself in the way I did–with gifted grace, brilliance, and magic of her own that scared those she sought out for guidance to harm her.

Instead, I said, “You know that money you’re saving up to go see John of God?  Take a vacation somewhere else instead.”

She said, “How did you know?”

You know my point.  Please consider it.  Decades lost in a search for the amazingness of oneself at the loss of tens of thousands of dollars, trust, healing nature, safety and self?  Is it worth it?