WHITE CARPET : RED STAIN.

                    

Saturday. I woke up this morning with an image in my mind that won’t go away.  So I thought if I gave it a voice it may have more to teach me. It has to do with my personal journey through domestic violence. It was certainly not a journey that I planned for myself, but once the engine pulled out of the station, picking up speed ~ it was hard to jump off the train.

I have spent the past few months working on a piece of “unfinished business” that bubbled to the surface through a series of seemingly unrelated events. Actually it was brought to my attention by my life coach who listened to me ramble on about the random chaos of my life;  a disappointing experience with my male housemate, patchy communication with my son, and yet .. forever optimistic …. my desire for a new relationship. Yes, I believe I am finally ready.

It was she who finally named the elephant in the room. With her help I have been looking at my relationships with the men in my life ~~ from the very beginning to the present. It has been interesting and sometimes painful; sorting through what is important, what needs to be transformed, and what needs to be let go. 

This morning’s vision was a red stain on white carpet.  It was curious and when I stepped back I saw a scene unfold before me.  I was in a living room ~ and I knew it was my living room although I have never lived in a house with white carpet. Someone had spilled dark red wine. They apologized profusely and even as I quickly found things to mop up the mess I was assuring them that it was alright, that everything would be all right.  But I was lying.  I knew the carpet was ruined and would never be the same again. I had the carpet professionally cleaned and the spot looked like it really had disappeared. But by that evening, after the workmen had left, the carpet began to dry and stain popped out again. And every time the carpet was cleaned the spot faded away a little more, until it was so slight that only I knew it was there. Maybe it isn’t really there anymore! Can you see it?  Maybe I only see it because I remember where it happened.

That is what domestic violence feels like. There were many stains …. but it was such a long, long time ago.  I cleaned and cleaned that damn carpet. I even sat a coffee table over the top and could walk right by without even thinking about it.  I thought the stain had finally disappeared … but here it is again. This is what unfinished business looks like.  

Of course there are elements of forgiveness ~ for myself and others.

But what about wiping the slate clean and forgetting all about it. Is that the answer? Is it even realistic? Does time heal all wounds? For me, the answer is “Yes, but” … which quietly dissolves into “No, not really.” 

And so here is where I am today. I realize that stain happened a long time ago to a young girl who had few skills and very little protection. But today I am a very different person. My forgiveness, offered many years ago, is still sincere. What to do next? I booked an energy session with a friend to clear and remove blocked and harmful energy patterns that no longer serve me. I have studied hard, learned many things, yet often stopped to smell the roses. I know honest lovely men, most of them married to dear friends of mine, but I enjoy their company and know there are more men out there like them. Today I walk with my head up, laugh easily, and am surrounded by friends I can trust to be there for me.

I believe the white carpet is my own young innocence. The "red" stain is the anger I felt deeply and never fully acknowledged. Stains happen, so do miracles.  Talking with a qualified coach and receiving energy work allowed me to move through the process with much more understanding; deeper and quicker and with more direction. 

And I know now that I can choose to pull the cord, stop the train and step off, thusly … moving forward with grace.                                    Blessed be.                                            

FIGHTING THE DEMONS

A friend of mine said to me recently, “You have been cycling through this pattern allot recently. You might want to consider a little round of anti-depressants to get on the other side of this.”

I was stunned. And then another tremor of shock went through me as I took a moment to consider how desirable that felt.  Oh, to take a pill and make my life easier. I barely listened as she told me her doctor’s philosophy that our brain synapsis can get off kilter and begin turning left when they should turn right, making connections that are not healthy for our organism ~ and by taking a round of anti-depressants, a person could break the pattern and get back to being their old self. 

My mind, adopting the adage “Inquiring Minds Want to KNOW,” wondered what would cause the brain to get off course in the first place.  My “Wise Woman” training believes that if we cover up  and placate the symptoms, instead of looking at and relating to the malady ~ we stand the chance of driving the dis-ease deeper into our bodies, only to surface again, later, and typically stronger than the first round.  By taking the time to look at it first, we can save time and can promote wholistic healing. 

Her observation had been a response to my statement that I had spent the afternoon “fighting my demons.” For the most part, my demons are the limiting beliefs that take me away from, or rob me of my joy.  They are not new.  (1) I never have enough time. (2) The balance I seek eludes me. (3) I concentrate more on what feeds my pocketbook than what feeds my soul. 

And the one thing I know for sure; ignoring them does not make them go away.  There are times when I address them, have a real conversation, and they diminish slightly allowing me to move forward in my day. But they have yet to disappear. However tempting, slicing them to ribbons with a mighty sword is not the solution.  So I remain optimistic that there is an answer that will satisfy both the "demon" and my “self.”

Besides, do I really want to be my old self?  A mood-elevating pill might be reasonable … but for now I am going to stay in the observation mode. Becoming the “detached witness” that so many of my teachers have talked about. Realizing that putting oneself under the microscope can sometimes be disturbing. Moving beyond old and into a new way of being is my ultimate goal. 

I choose to have an awareness ~ an allowing ~ of my “demon self.” After all, we we share the same space. 
And I am the one, with consistent help from my angels, in charge of how large the microscope is.
In gratitude I realize that every day I have more moments of pure joy than the day before.  And if I don’t?  I will just start again tomorrow.
Anyway, I have to put down my sword to pick up a cup of Tension Tamer tea. 

Expressions – Part 10 of 10

The Beasts Know It

If you know that all is well, you know all you need to know.
And if you know life is supposed to be fun,
you know more than almost anybody else knows.
And if you know that the way you feel is your indicator
of how connected you are to Source,
then you know that which only a handful of Deliberate Creators,
respective to the total population, really know.
The beasts all know it.
Your animals know that all is well.
Your animals live in the moment.
They understand the power of their now.
They expect the Universe to yield to them.
They don't worry or fret or conjure or make laws or rules or try to regulate.
They are Pure Positive Energy.
Your beasts vibrate more on the Energy scale of contentment than of passion.
Their desire was set forth from Nonphysical, and continues to be set forth by those,
like you, who want Energy balance, who want sustenance.
The difference between the beast and the human
is that the beast is more general in its intent.
The human is usually less blended, usually less allowing of the Energy to flow,
but is more specific.
And that is why the human is seen to be the Creator
while the beast is more the balancer of Energy.

                                                                                                       
 – Abraham,  Abraham-Hicks Publications,  dailyquote@abraham-hicks.com 

Dear Reader, thank you for allowing me to share my ever growing vision of how horses can heal us.  I am constantly in awe and grateful for being so blessed to have them in my life.                              And with grace, the journey continues.

    

How to be a Better Human 101 ... cont... again ....

In the past I have jokingly described my spiritual journey as “How to be a Better Human 101”, placing myself in the freshman class with wide-eyed enthusiasm and an unchecked willingness to experience it all. My goal with every semester is to discern the teachings and assimilate universal wisdom.

For the past two years I have decided to up the ante; sometimes advancing with baby steps, sometimes falling on my bum, but encouraged by the brilliant rays of understanding that sometimes break through the clouds.  My teachers are the horses and those two-legged beings that speak through them, to them and with them.  Completing Melisa Pearce’s program, EGCM, Equine Gestalt Coaching Method was a dream come true; it has been nothing short of amazing.  

My self-study curriculum remains challenging, as on-going lessons should, with several mid-course corrections required, and I ride the roller coaster of accomplishment, failure, self-doubt and joy with utter amazement.  This past week-end’s training with Anna Twinney (Reach Out to Horses) was HUGE.  Surrounded once again by humans and horses I stepped into the arena. 

"I want to open you up.” Anna’s words are still ringing in my ears.  I have a very uncomfortable vision of an old fashioned manual can opener lying beside a tin of sardines, split open via a ragged wound, sharp and possibly dangerous. Worth diving into if you happen to like sardines, but proceed with caution, it is to be handled with care.

This Monday morning I take stock.

Physically, I am beat up, things hurt when I move, a temporary un-comfort-able-ness.

Spiritually, I am standing at yet another precipice, wondering how to get across.

Mentally, I know that we have stood in front of different obstacles before and have eventually figured them out. I take comfort in the absolute knowledge that I have tremendous teachers, marvelous mentors and friendly faces to guide me, stand beside me, and encourage me.

The horses stand out in their pasture, absolutely aware while appearing to dream contentedly in their own little world. But as every thing in the universe is connected, we too are connected. They accept their day, knowing that this journey is my own, but still mindful of my progress.

It will be what it will be. I am not sure where we are going but excited for the journey to unfold.

GOING CRAZY &/or PEACE OF MIND

I am both exquisitely happy and excruciatingly sad. Mad even. The difference between the two is driving me crazy. On one level I want everyone to find the joy and happiness that I desire for myself. I have a vision that includes a loving partner, a peaceful home, monetary stability, a deep love and connection with the universe and, last and maybe mostly, love of self.

My dear friend is in the throes of new lust. I want her to be happy and find the right fellow and settle down to a rich and meaningful life, filled with more joy than sorrow.  With all my heart I desire this for her.

At the same time my sanctuary has been violated. My friend and I share the same little farm house and now nothing feels as sweet to me as it did.  He has been here a month; if he paid rent would I be more accepting? When I said he could visit, I didn’t mean that he could move in. It feels like they are two against my one-ness. Her new love makes my life seem emptier than before, I feel dull and flat.  I don’t do well with dull and flat.  It isn’t where I normally reside and it is NO FUN !!!

In the beginning I made him out to be the villain. It was his fault that my life was turned into such chaos. It was so much easier to make him the “bad guy”.  My resentment was off the charts …. it lept tall buildings of the mind’s imagination and colored my life with drab colors of piss-offed-ness. My little world had been invaded and the enemy had no awareness of the depth of my despair. So I showed them. Passive aggressive behavior came back into my life, as easily as it had disappeared with the divorce decree of many years ago. However, the infinitesimal sparks of joy that came with a well thrust imaginary dagger were overwhelmed by excruciating sadness.

And I know. 

They are not the enemy. The battle is once again, always, within me. The situation is yet another way of showing me that I have more work to do. I have much at stake here. I could be on the brink of ruining a dear friendship and it is this thought that propels me to dive deep into the lesson. My house is my sanctuary. My friend is my friend. Sweet as it has been, I always knew that our sharing of this space was temporary. Communication could definitely be better between us but that probably won’t happen until I get to a more accepting place. Her new love is a gift that I wish for myself but not to the extent of their happiness. I desire to be the kind of friend that I want my friends to be to me. A prescription for valium would be appreciated right now, just to take the “sting” out of the situation. I need a stronger mantra …. mine is not sufficiently cutting through the crap of this moment. Once again I turn to my angels and ask for guidance, wisdom, peace of mind ……. Ahhhh, peace of mind. If this cannot be found within, it will never be available in the outer world.

I know.

My Place of Worship

I wrote this as I drove away from Abiquiu, New Mexico.  It was inspired by a conversation sitting in a beautiful sun room with new friends.

My Place of Worship

The landscape is my cathedral,
this rock shall be my pew

and a dandelion leaf my communion.
The bird and the cricket form my choir
and their tracks in the dirt are my hymnal.
The clouds across the azure sky, my stained glass windows,
even as the night-time sky is an open portal welcoming me in.
The trees are my elders,
this pungent sage, my incense.
My love for you shall be an unending tithe.
I kneel beside my horse, in awe of all that I witness.
Dear God, Goddess, Creator of all that is,
thank you for this sanctuary.
No walls to hold me in, nor others "out".
Bless you for this day.
Amen.
    

ZEVON’S GIFT

Recently I was given an incredible and unexpected gift.  It was not a gift the giver was totally ready to give but the circumstance was not to be avoided.

It began with a phone call at 8:45 in the morning from a dear friend of mine, an accomplished horse woman who has spent her entire life in the company of horses.  There was an edge to her voice that hinted of urgency.  “Zevon is colicky and I can’t get a hold of my vet.  Can you call yours and see how fast he can get over here?”  “Of course,” I replied, already flipping through my day timer.  “Is Richard home this morning”, I continued, wondering if she was dealing with this by herself.  Not that she isn’t competent to deal with the situation; she’s told me dozens of colic stories and helped me out twice with my own horse.  “He’s here.  He’s out riding horses.  He’s not really helping me.”  There was that tone again.  Her housemate Richard knows as much about horses as Molly, but I thought she might need a girl friend.  I told her I would come up for a little while.

On an impulse I threw a tamale in the microwave and took it with me for the short drive to her house.  I prayed between bites as I hurried down the country roads.  I have never seen a full blown colic before and I was as curious as I was worried.

I have known Zevon for several years.  He is a handsome fellow, a tall dark bay gelding with a friendly face and a kind eye.  A few years ago he came to my house to babysit my little mare when I was between house mates and Lakota had lost her herd.  Horses are herd animals, most prefer not to be alone ~ they are too vulnerable.  As Zevon liked the ladies, he took his new assignment in stride.  He was a natural born leader and took control of every herd he was in.  He had been retired by the time I met him so I never saw him under saddle, but I knew that in their twenty-seven years together, he and Molly had covered many, many miles. 

When I pulled into the driveway, Richard, still riding, waved me over to the barn.  Zevon was lying down in his stall with Molly kneeling by his side.  She had finally connected with her vet who was now on her way.  Molly told me how every thing had appeared fine this morning but he had deteriorated quickly.  Zevon would lie still and then kick his legs and swing his head around to look at his stomach.  He would sometimes try to stand and end up sitting with his front legs straight in front of him like a trick pony, but this was not a show any of us wanted to watch. 

Richard joined our vigil and shortly after that the vet arrived; she was marvelous.  She told Molly that she was very concerned with the situation, especially as Zevon was not a young horse.  She left us with medications and a time line to follow.  At one point in the early afternoon it appeared that Zevon had turned the corner.  Richard, Molly and I commented over and over how much better he appeared to be feeling.  We walked with him, stroked his beautiful neck and Molly gave him sponge baths.  But our optimism was short lived and Zevon grew more restless as his pain intensified.

It was time for Molly to make the hardest decision an animal owner ever faces.  With tears in her eyes she looked at Richard.  Through the years I have heard them discuss this very moment.  She always told him, “I am going to have trouble making that call when it’s time.  I need you to be honest with me and tell me the truth.”  Even though the words strangled her, she squeaked out the question.  Richard studied the toe of his boot and nodded yes.  I drifted back and tried to get a grip on my trembling chin; I had no intention of making this harder for my dear friend.  The call was made, the vet was on her way back over and we each paid homage to this outstandingly gorgeous being. 

As I drove home later that day I thought what a precious gift Zevon and Molly had given me. I will never forget this day, which was to be his last, and the memory of their dignity will be with me forever. When it is our time, I pray that Lakota and I will have friends to hold us up, to ease us through the transition, to answer the question that can’t even be asked.  What a marvelous example they had presented me ~ filled with Love and Grief and Grace and Tears and Tenderness. 

Such a gift.

Moving Too Fast ~ Making Mistakes

WOW! The past couple of weeks have been so busy. My real estate appraisal business always seems to be feast or famine.  And we have had way too much famine in the past three years of this business ~ so I have been saying “Yes” and accepting every assignment that comes my way.  I am driving all over the front range area from Fort Collins to Parker, which is not ideal, but if that is where the work is, then that is where I must go. 

Yes, I am my own boss, but it hasn’t always been pretty this past week. Up until a certain point, being pretty busy makes me sharp as a tack and I get amazing amounts of work done in a single day. However, I have reached that warp speed where the faster I move the more mistakes I make. The boss woman part of me has screamed her bloody head off at the worker bee part of me. Yikes!

Wednesday, the worker bee part of me left our home office with not enough time  to inspect a new assignment in Boulder that the Boss had scheduled ~and certainly not enough time to stop at Staples to buy printer ink cartridges vital to work the next day ~ and then make it back to Longmont for a business dinner before a professional engagement. What a stupid careless mistake. Now it was raining and everyone else was driving really slow; there was no way I could make it to Boulder.  The boss woman part of me sat at the red light at the intersection on the south side of Longmont and screamed till her throat hurt.  As she drove ahead, she made an executive decision and  sent the worker bee part of self back to Staples and got several important things done!

Thursday, the poor pitiful worker bee part of me picked up the mail at our Boulder post office box, rented only in the hopes of getting more appraisal assignments in the Boulder/Denver area where properties actually sell. The only envelope in the box was her Discovery card bill.  Smoke came out her ears, she was instantly furious.  Who authorized that her Discovery bill would be sent to her Boulder address?  No one asked here, G** damn it!!!!  when she got back into the car, she grabbed a pen and wrote a huge note across the envelope and wrote in large letters, “what the f***” followed by an enormous question mark.  This “note to self” was apparently so that she would not forget to address this grave breech of power once she returned to her office.

Friday, the worker bee picks up the envelope, slices off the end to remove the statement which should have the phone number of someone she can speak her mind to and get the address corrected to its former status.  It was only then that she realized that the intended recipient of this particular envelope was the lady who has the PO Box below hers. It had been deposited in the wrong bin. That was all. Hardly a federal expense. However, now it has a huge blue expletive written across the bottom of the envelope. Oh well, just more minutes spent by the worker bee to camouflage with the help of blank white sticky labels. GEEZ!

The Wise Woman part of me is watching, grinning, waiting for me to remember ...  I am an awakened sacred heart .... and this "reality" is all an illusion .....   Goddess Bless Her !

Horse as Healer: Chakras & Empowerment

Chakra balancing.

I have seen Melisa’s horses do this over and over.  They start at the human’s toes and with their nose they go up one side of the body and down the other, slowly, methodically. Sometimes they walk around the human and scan the back side as well. Sometimes they will stand in front of the client and sway back and forth with their nose at the heart chakra. Well they don’t really sway their whole body, they just gently swing their head back and forth usually standing fairly close to the human.

One very large black and white Gypsy Vanner horse, will slowly back up to a person and press her root chakra onto the client. She will move around the person and press her butt on them from different angles. It looks kind of funny but she is trying to ground the person into the “now-ness” of the moment. She is very gentle and walks very slowly with her large magnificent feet.

 When they are finished the horse will back away or move away from the human and they often look over at Melisa as if to say, “I know it only took two minutes, but we’re done here. This one is cleared and balanced to the best of my ability.”

 It could be scary to the human if they didn’t trust both the facilitator and the horse, but that has not been my experience. The human always love it in the end as they walk out of the round pen glowing.

Empowerment.

Once there was timid woman with a very, very sad story that she told very well. I am beginning to realize how boring stories really are when they are polished and embellished due to years and years practicing of the telling. (And I look at myself and how many tedious stories I have bored people with. Write them, get them out of me, and move on for goodness sakes!) Anyway the woman was going on and Melisa said “Okay I get the idea. Lets try an exercise. Are you willing to do that?”

The woman agreed and we brought in a large dark bay gelding, a very handsome creature to be sure. Melisa also sent someone for the mounting block and brought a couple of extra students.  We all knew that the woman had a little bit of horse experience and were not surprised when she agreed to ride this horse bareback. She looked like a tiny fairy up on the horses back and she immediately broke out in this huge grin. We led the horse around the circle with a side walker on either side to make sure that she was safe and had the woman speak of joy.

Melisa coached her with stem sentences like, “I feel joy when …”

And ended up by asking where in her body was she feeling this joy. “It is like my entire core is filled with golden light; my whole rib cage is expanding with joy.” She bent over the horse and wrapped her hands around his neck, still grinning and indeed, it was if a light were radiating from her. We walked in silence for a while and Melisa instructed her to feel all the joy, to let it soak into her body, and to know that she could come back to this memory in an instant, any time she wanted to. This was her touchstone for joy.

The woman walked out of the round pen and she truly did look different to all of us; softer, more relaxed and happier than we had ever known her.

And still, that is just the beginning……

Gracious Miracle

This was one of my journeys during a shamanic writing workshop that I took a few years ago.

As a group we had been instructed in the afternoon’s process.  Each of the participants began by gently grooming the horse in front of them. As the drumming started we were instructed to step back and begin our journey.  I have never tried journey work standing up before, but, why not ??

Accepting the rhythm of the drum, I moved back away from the horse and closed my eyes. I quickly found myself in total darkness.  I was quiet with the blackness and then it began to take shape.  It somehow felt like I was in a very large tube, the darkness felt soft, like velvet.  It was not something that I could touch because I was somehow suspended in the middle of the tube, easily and gently being supported there. No worries.

I begin to notice a procession. It started way below me, the shapes were small. It looked as if they were slowly walking up black velvet steps that I could not really see, just imagine. The shapes were not close to me, but they further defined the feeling that I was in a large black cylinder. The procession arched around me and as they grew closer I could tell that they were horses, of every color; colors that “real” horses don’t normally come in ~ there were bright yellow horses and pink ones, and green ones.  Some of them looked like carousal horses, but it was also very apparent that they were living, breathing, and moving animals. They were beautiful.  As they grew close, I saw their wings. Some were folded back along their backs but most were standing up, connected at the upper shoulder and moving gently with each step.  It was so awesome I may have stopped breathing.

I have been told for years in different readings that I could work with the horses if I so chose, and help them get their wings.  But I could not visualize it and was totally unsure what to do next ….. and here they were, and they all had their wings.  Sensing my question they said, “Yes, we already have our wings. We have always had our etheric wings. They are a sign of our divinity. Only you humans have never acknowledged them. Some of you are only now beginning to acknowledge our divinity.  It is good and we are thankful.” 

“So what am I supposed to do?” silently formulating another question in my mind.

“There are horses who have forgotten their own wings. You will find them in your healing work. You can help them remember and restore to them their divinity if they so choose. Share this vision with them and they will instantly remember ~ they will re-awaken their own cellular memory”. 

I nodded my head in agreement and continued to watch the procession of amazing creatures, silently climbing, creating now a wondrous spiral around me. I had tears in my eyes as rapid drumming drew me back into the arena and an outside voice instructed each of us to return to our bodies. I quietly whispered my prayers of gratitude for their willingness to be present with me this day. Another gracious miracle received.