Only A Breath Away

Updated: Sep 21, 2019



I have been struggling to finish a post. Which usually means there is some aspect of the post that I am not ready to articulate, see, or that I am writing in the wrong direction, the wrong avenue of deepening into insight, truth.


To allow ourselves to see our resistance, to allow myself to see that my heart was asking me to attend to something else, something deeper, perhaps harder.


Oh, the post I’d been working on was the post that followed chronologically the journey I’ve been traveling–from the east to the south to the west, to Sedona, to Nevada, to Oregon, to California, back to Oregon, to California, to Arizona again, and then the Four Corners, and then the journey back to the northeast––but the post was not the words, experiences, that needed to be articulated. In fact, the post I needed to write, I was told, would free the energies of the post I’m struggling with.


Honesty. Chronology. Spiraling…

Honesty: to allow the heart to take lead instead of the head.


And we want chronology to make sense of things. But our lives, our experiences of knowing, understanding, spiral more than move in any forward, linear motion. We revisit and deepen into understanding––though outwardly the days pass, the miles pass, and the scenery changes across one state-line after another. But honesty, deepening, and spiraling eradicate the easy chronology of our lives. Instead, we re-visit, re-turn, spiral back to deepen into our knowing, understanding. The whirling dervish of our heart, our Soul…


We return to be more honest not only with others but with ourselves–to see and acknowledge all the things within us that we don’t want to see, to find expression for. We deepen into and revisit them in unexpected moments, ways. Suddenly, we’re back in the town of our childhood, or back in an argument with a past lover, or suddenly in some misunderstanding, some prior loss. And to know those experiences, know their gifts, takes being present with them. Being honest with them and ourselves.


Authentic presence is honesty–allowing ourselves to be in the truth of who we are.


And don’t let anyone tell you it’s easy–it takes courage, resilience, and desire to know oneself in the truth of who and what we are. It takes a willingness to reveal our truths to ourselves, to reveal the limiting ideas we’ve held, and then to articulate, manifest in expression, our True self. I’ve always appreciated what the Guides, channeled by Paul Selig, have said: “There’s nothing convenient about these teachings, about aligning to the Truth of who and what you are.” And for me, part of that alignment, that expression, occurs through words. Always words.


Words carry power: they are energetic containers, vessels, conduits of intention and Being. There is a reason, the Guides begin with “I Am Word. Word I Am Word.” It is not ‘the’ word, but “Word.” Articulated, expressed, by each of us. And when we are honest, authentic with those words, we create intention, we create worlds.


To not acknowledge this creative aspect of words is to fundamentally deny the expression of who and what we are. “In the beginning was the Word.” Voice. Source. Creation. Expression–the world as we know made manifest. Each of us, the creator of narratives, ideas, stories that bring things into form, matter. And the ‘beginning’ is happening over and over again with each breath, with each articulation of our experience, each story, each structure we build and claim as ‘us’, ‘me’. And then, we hang onto those stories, identities, words, and limit ourselves to them, because we want security, familiarity. We develop limiting beliefs that align with the structures that we then have to acknowledge and dismantle to grow–to experience the new, to allow the true nature of our Being to express once more.


We are that powerful, that creative….


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And so it was that I came back to Woodstock. I followed a story I was trying to understand, a sense of being of who and what I thought I was, and where I should be, and who I loved/love, and allowed it to take me on its deepening journey. And it is a story of love…an ongoing story of love…as all stories are. Love of family, love of another, love of life, and love of humanity itself…


Love stories…


All stories are love stories.


They are born and dissolve through passion, desire, growth, and finally, conscious awareness, the realization of who we are.


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Love stories though are often filled with learned expectations, desires, hopes, potentials–not just the love they are. And to allow the Love to be greater than all these was/is the story I was beginning to learn, know, in a such deeper way… a conscious way. A spiraling deeper way.


For it is/was in fact, not a story, but a state of Being…


But Being Love, returning to that state of Being over and over…that’s not always an easy process if we are in the authenticity of who we are. It’s a practice, a practice that includes stories that are messy and unclear at times in the world we live in. It is easy to talk about Love in the abstract, but we are not here in the abstract–we are here in bodies, in the deepest and rawest humanity of our expression. To be love in this…this is a practice, a way of Being…


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Here is part of my story, Being: I made choices because of love in all its variations: I left a career, I shed so much of who I thought I was, am; I left my home to travel, to be near my mother who passed, I learned so much about Being, about the land we walk on and call earth, its sacred nature, and I carried inside me this deeply abiding love for a another…


And then I returned.


Spiraling, spiraling…spiraling…


Always deeper…always deepening into greater presence, greater awareness, Being…


love….