Memories,
cannot access many –
blurry,
scary,
unwelcomed
they are.
Better to keep locked deep –
for now.
The time may come
to visit certain memories,
one by one,
soft and slow,
well resourced,
strongly grounded,
begin to see
the memories differently,
to heal the broken Heart,
melt the frozen bits,
integrate it all,
emanate a clearer frequency.
Submerged!
Buried alive!
your Voice,
your Courage,
your Original Face.
Do not despair.
No one to blame.
Nothing forever lost.
Never to late.
Life has her mysteries,
rhythm,
and timing.
Your Treasure Trove
now recovered,
bring it up –
slowly,
tenderly –
from The Ocean’s Floor.
Open with curiosity,
reclaim
your Voice
your Courage,
your Original Face.
Genius
seems to come
at a very steep price.
Typically,
heavy drugs
for a gifted musician
or
egregious infidelity
for a talented athlete.
Why?
The weight of The Pedestal,
the unrealistic expectations,
the Godlike projections?
Or dizzying fame
borne too quick & too young,
allowing no adequate time
for a stronger foundation?
Always a similar story,
a shared humanity,
the need to escape the anxiety,
that knawing
lethal
relentless
core belief
of innate
unworthiness.
Alas, nowhere to run,
the angst always comes back.
Some heal, eventually learn.
Others, they cannot return.
six years ago,
a dress rehearsal.
Fierce Grace,
it was,
though we did not believe so.
asked to slow down,
to be Still,
to go in,
we choose
to move fast,
to look out,
to go back
no matter the costs.
when will we learn?
what will it take
to grow up,
to repent,
to repair
all that has been lost?
a clock ticks,
a cliff awaits,
Earth, regenerates.
unraveled,
she became completely
undone.
the difference this time:
she allowed herself to be
compassionately
witnessed,
and that
made all
the difference. 🙏
Life
will strip you
all the way down
to The Bone,
to your very Essence,
when you surrender –
holding absolutely
nothing
back!
Succumbing to The River,
arms wide open!
Receptive,
softening the jaw,
the breath,
the doubt.
Being,
present,
feeling it all –
the fear,
the angst,
the panic,
the tenderness!
Relent!
Resistance is futile!
As Life takes the reigns,
Radical Trust
becomes the curriculum.
The madness of the mind
melts
into the background –
its rightful place –
in deference
and service
to its Master,
the grounded Heart.
a bit of a contemplative time,
going within,
diving deep –
deeper than ever before,
meeting and making friends
with all the variations
and parts of Me.
Listening
to all their stories
and different perspectives.
Breathing,
long and slow,
taking it all in,
heart breaking and opening –
no judgement,
only Love ❤️,
patience,
and compassion 🙏
At the core,
The Messages
all seem to be same:
Be you, Beloved,
please do not deviate
from your Original Face 🤗
Original artwork by Lili Arnold for CauseBox, 2017
death.
annihilation.
trans-formation.
no going back,
a time to grieve,
to let go
to let it burn 🔥
it – that which was
and can no longer
be
here
now.
a new identity awaits,
must allow the old
to gently fall away.
scared?
yes, petrified
standing
naked
at yet another Threshold.
where am I going?
where is my Songline leading?
skin shedding,
ancestral beliefs rising –
disempowerment,
unworthiness,
scarcity
the possibility of not living
to full potentiality.
that story ends
here
now
with me,
with fervent prayers,
with aligned community,
with Trust and surrender
day by day,
breath by deep breath,
re-leasing,
re-membering.
not enough
then
suddenly
too much!
something missing
what?
a yearning
for sweetness,
release
from discipline,
a tipping point
of sorts,
can no longer run
or hide
sadness
disappointment
fear?
of what?
barely space
between internal stimulus
and its well-trodden response.
a mere taste
then
suddenly
the deluuge,
surrendering to the waterfall.
a deep
familiar
insatiable
hunger
for sweetness
presence
purpose
excitement
reasons
any
to be
here
now.
innately worthy,
The Source,
from which we all
spring.
when do we forget
what we really are
and spiral
down
deep into The Abyss
of not enough
and the sense of
unworthiness?
grateful for those moments
in exquisite remembrance,
a glimpse,
swirls of pale pinks & greys,
the Curiousity of Creativity
condensing into form,
the fetus,
planted in a womb.
burgeoninc 