writing in reflection of the world around me //
a particular kind of soulfulness //
I asked a question recently to Self/Soul and one of my decks of cards and this is what came through…
What will support healing, integration and soul reclamation with all the has been opened in the collective recently?
plant guide // MINT
I pulled a card from “The Druid Plant Oracle” and the message I felt was an invitation. For you to use the clarity gained from the space within created to intentionally move forward while paying attention to your surroundings. Distractions will always be here— it’s your work to lean into the sensations that bring up resistance and be the witness to the messages soul has for you.
“When an individual’s particular kind of soulfulness, which is both an instinctual + spiritual identity, is surrounded by psychic acknowledgement and acceptance, that person feels life and power as never before”
⫷⚕︎⫸
The proverbial can of worms— Pandora’s Box if you will— that has been opened in the collective brings with it what sometimes feels like never ending source of pain, grief and anger as illusions [or delusions] long held, begin to splinter and fracture, leaving us to sort through the mess. And with the trust and tools to navigate these confronting truth’s we have an opportunity to finally learn a particular lesson: that pain is not to seek nor avoid, but instead to accept as an inevitable aspect of our human challenge and by standing in the tension of its presence, allowing self to feel that which we have so desperately sought to do away with— this is where your true POWER shows itself;
the resilience of a beating heart and fractured soul
And this lesson felt, from this place you can finally make room for the love, joy + pleasure that previously had no space to breath, move, nor lay a foundation in your being. Now that the generations, the lifetimes of unacknowledged and unhealed hurt is being liberated from our being— through being honestly and vulnerably spoken about, tears, righteous rage…in acknowledging it all we are making room for the beauty this life has waiting for us.
These problems, this massive societal “way it is” — it’s not going to disappear overnight. They require more hard truths spoken, more accountability on a personal level of how we are either a part of the perpetuation of suffering or the resolution.
For the record, [and a loving reminder]: it won’t just go away if you avoid it— it will just perpetuate your personal suffering, as well as collective suffering. So rest up, rejuvenate your body, mind and spirit, because it’s not over yet AND we were build to handle this— we came here for this. You have what it takes to keep going. TRUST.
We need you. Perseverance, get creative, take action. Have patience; bit by bit, slow and steady, one layer at a time, and most importantly trust your inner guidance system to lead you exactly where you need to go. One step at a time.
be gentle with yourself and those around you, beautiful human, you’ve got this.
With gratitude and always love,
𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 + 𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭//
The writing of a new [love] story- requires an excavation of the old.
An uncovering of all that has gone unhealed, all this time. I feel their presence, so close to me. As though the thinly veiled layers of past/present/future has taken up residence using my heart, mind and dreams as the battleground to work out the unresolved, the unrequited, the long shoved away...
Oh yea, I see ghosts. But not in the way you may think. I see what lies beneath; the presence and remnants of the soul inhabiting the shell. I feel the stories, their pain and uncertainty. I know their struggle as though it is my own.
In hindsight, it was a dangerous space to be, before I understood what I was: a brief stop on a long and winding journey toward redemption. For I would invite them to come in, sit before my fire and share with me their stories; the troubles and questions lingering on the edges of consciousness; offer companionable silence- much needed and too few and far between-so they may rest easy for a bit. And as we talked, shared space- as they witnessed the truth of me- I sensed the weariness melting away, the armor being removed piece by piece; revealing a clearer version of the truth [the essence of soul already sensed].
𝑎 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑜𝑠
𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈?
These deep and decadent scorpionic waters- a curious resting place, a kind of home- no longer running still; current{ly} overflowing with karmic memory {its all coming to the surface now}
Rosalie: a metaphor for; Taking matters into ones own hands, left hanging by a thread; the only path to freedom in a time long past. Spite, fear. Resolve. A morbid choice. {But I doubt they included that in the eulogy};
Memory housed in sympathetic spaces; a mercurial reminder of pain unprocessed; Violence. Violated. Power and Control at the expense of Sovereignty. Nowhere to go. Screaming at the top of lungs and nobody hears. All that lingers is the nothingness; the void of death;
When did this fragment of self Lose all sensation? Which lifetime, which experience was the one that finally sent that shred of humanity into oblivion?
The path to rebirth paved with questions unanswered— ghosts of times past...
Kali: on a rampage, ripping me to shreds, my insides, out; blood and guts and glitter. stopping at nothing to give me my everything. 𝑨 𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆.
Learning to trust what I feel and know to be true.
Leaning into the uncomfortable edges; all ways, all places.
Asking for help; Speaking up; Saying no.
Survival: an unconscious motivating force;
Living: a conscious choice
Disassociation: my go to coping.
Every moment longer I stay with the feeling: a victory.
Clearing out old fear, calling back the pieces; it’s time to come home.
-an abstract perspective + full moon musings // [me and my 8th house South Node + 7th house Mercury in Scorpio taking a little ride to the depths on this familiar lunation]
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐩 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 // 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒄𝒆𝒑𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 + 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚
⎜The gap between perception and reality. Cracks I've stepped through time and time again. A shedding of identities, lives, masks, circumstance, fears and limitations; and in this season, gallons of trauma i'm not even sure is mine ["mine" being a contradictory concept at the moment]. Yet here, in this space is what I feel. Viciously churning sea water, throat burning as another wave throttles me as I struggle to catch my breath. Over and over and over.
⎜Shades mask a fatigue of ancient proportions- cracks along the edges of eyes. A result of a weary soul and a life only part lived.
⎜Showing in snippets what this world struggles to look directly at: a collection of experiences that if printed and bound, would culminate in a body of work that would read like some never-ending horror show of humanity's darkest and most devious potentials; everywhere, everyday, in every moment. Unconscious perpetration and equally so, intense and violent upholding of [the status quo].
⎜And amidst the carnage lies the paradox: the beauty of this place. Viscerally painful to witness in its unfiltered everything. To take it all in at once requires a stamina earned; nearly unbearable intensity. It's no wonder we struggle to see it. The beauty. It hurts. And we look away while clawing to maintain our place amidst[History on repeat].
⎜You may think you know something when you lay eyes upon another but what you are intuiting is a perception projected onto a reflective surface- an origin story amidst tall tales created about "them". A witnessing of Self through staring in the mirror of other.
I am you. You are me.
Our stories;
𝒏𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒄𝒍𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒅 𝒏𝒐𝒓 𝒆𝒙𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕.
⎜Humbling lessons amidst the divide attempting to be bridged between divinity and that humane...
⎜Time to get real. It's all coming to the surface. Let's finally face it. So healing may be...
⎜From one human trying to figure it out, to another.⎜I love you. ⎜I see you. ⎜We can do this. ⎜We came here for this.
𝒎𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 ⟁ 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒆𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒇𝒍𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔 // 𝟸/𝟾/𝟸𝟷
from the journal //
𝒎𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒖𝒕 // 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞
⎜meet me in the middle// bring it back to the beginning // Origin stories, autonomy, divine union birthed by balance // Take me back before it all went...
⎟There are moments- in this moment- where an anger- deep and hot and dark, churns in the depths of me. Being taken from, used, betrayed. Manipulations and control tactics implemented in attempts to stifle my flame, my potent life force; out of fear. And I'm angry. And grieving- all the fractures and fragments of my Soul that ran and hid, in order for me to survive; how I performed these amputations of self, in the name of survival. Can I forgive? Will I forgive?
⎟This anger- I feel it in my thighs, my hips and back- calling to me, stuck in a simmering ache. Also present: a grief. Attachment born from lifetimes of repression. Memories of loss come flooding in. What the fuck is all of this? Where is it coming from? [grasping for the rational- good luck with that] I am safe. I am safe. On repeat. A necessary mantra. A door has opened. The collective memoir is being released piecemeal; incoherent chapters and snippets of prose. We are absorbing [remembering]; Big questions formed, answers on the tip of tongues seemingly unable to form words to express...Dreams, stray memories that feel like visions of another time, real-time reminders through physical experience. Righteous rage and bone aching sadness and that feeling that is felt in the instinctive clench of your jaw- crushing teeth to keep from saying the thing that isn't safe, not acceptable; to keep from screaming until you have no breath left and your throat is raw...
⎟ And here I sit. What is this energy? What is mine? What have I been unwilling to surrender? What have I allowed to latch onto and siphon the life from me- what parasite have I allowed to use me as it's host. Mind grasping to sort what is a felt sense, a knowing, a purging, a reclamation. Ebb and flow. I'm tired. How can there be more?
LET GO.
Fucking let it go.
Let me go.
You aren't welcome here anymore.
It hurts too much. It now hurts more to hold on, than it does to let go.
LET GO.
Stop distracting.
Face it.
I know- it hurts.
Let it go.
I am safe.
I am safe.
I am safe.
⎜𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅 ⎜⟁ 𝟸/𝟼/𝟸𝟷
// from the journal
to shine light into the shadows // to untangle the knots in my mind // I write.