Someone else’s salt.
Your wound and pain.
Their salt didn’t your wound create.
Their salt just revealed to you the opening, the break.
Like a canary in the coal mine,
The pain calls to you that
Something is awry.
Go to the pain.
See it for what it is.
Diving into the pain
frees you from it.
When their salt no longer hurts,
You know that wound is healed.
Namaste.
Photo by Ambro at freedigitalphotos.net
This is from a dream I had over the weekend, followed by my interpretation of the dream’s message:
He was brought to me in chains. I was tasked with keeping him incarcerated until his ride to jail was arranged. As a mere citizen, I was intimidated. I knew not his crime. I knew not his name. I just knew that he was to remain chained.
The law enforcement officer left him with me. All alone with the prisoner, I felt small and inadequate. Soon thereafter he began to escape his bonds.
Desperate, I tried to keep him down by climbing on his back. I called to other guests to call 911, they just looked at me and then kept walking. I tried to convince them of my plight and his danger, to no avail. Once I could no longer hold him down, I sat back and let him go.
Then, in the mystical way dreams transform, we were outside in the cold. There was a heated pool that we began to swim in, enjoying our new found freedom: mine from fear and his from being chained.
The more I got to know him, the more I liked him and wondered why he was ever being held in the first place. He was definitely not the monster I was told that he was. He just wanted to be acknowledged. He just wanted to be loved. To him, these were the keys to his freedom.
~~~~
Dream Interpretation using the idea that each person in the dream represents a part of the dreamer:
This dream shows me where I am holding myself back. Someone has told me to fear myself, to hold myself back as a result. Without questioning this “authority,” I have held myself in bondage, even climbing onto my own back when I started to get free. I’ve called in others to help me to keep myself down, looking for reinforcements.
The part of me that I am holding back is ready to be freed. Once I can see, acknowledge and love this part of myself we are both free: free of fear and free of bondage.
In the seeming cold, I am able to swim freely in the warm waters of my emotions.
Conclusion: To free myself from myself, it is time to love and accept those parts of me that the “authorities” told me were a menace. Time to free myself from the bonds of my own construct, so that I may be free of fear, free of bondage and free to move easily through my own emotions.
Feel free to join me, the water is just fine!
Namaste.
Photo by imagerymajestic at freedigitalphotos.net
There are things that each of us does not want to see or feel about ourselves and our lives. We push it away, sweep it under the rug or put our heads in the sand rather than seeing it for what it is. What we resist (or deny) persists, regardless of what we do to ignore it or push it away. These fears control us, driving our daily choices when we allow them to exist.
Recently, I have been struggling against myself. Not wanting to do my usual self-care routines, I sat in resistance which was just building on itself. Rolling away, pushing, and screaming, I moved away from the things that open my heart. It was when I stopped fighting that I was reminded to love, to accept, to surrender into the “dark” parts of myself that were seeking attention and affection.
Ironically, the very cure to the resistance is surrender; acceptance. It is a practice that takes awareness, valor and stillness to perform.
This is a practice. With each part into which we surrender, we grow stronger. How counter-intuitive it can be to gain strength by laying down the sword, removing the battle armor and opening our hearts, to our own worst enemies: ourselves.
How ironic that the very person we resist loving is the very person whom we need to love the most: ourselves.
Please join me in letting the light in, bringing the darkness to the surface to see it for all that it is: illusions and lies about ourselves that someone else told us and that we carried forth.
Letting the light in bit by lovely bit. That’s where it’s at.
Namaste.
Photo by prozac1 at freedidigitalphotos.net
Too much.
Too loud.
Too big.
Too smart.
Too much talking.
Too quiet.
Too many needs.
Too many things.
Too much food.
Too much to drink.
Too much thinking.
Too much feeling.
So I shrink my
Voice,
Body,
Thoughts,
Aspirations,
Words,
Silence,
Needs,
Possessions,
Diet,
Consumption,
Thoughts,
Feelings.
All so that you might feel better about me.
No more.
No more shrinking to make you feel better.
Now I shine more than I shrink.
And sing my song from the rooftops.
Well, at least I’m getting there.
Please, join me with your own song.
Namaste.
Photo by Pixomar at freedigitalphotos.net
For the Women Who Are Over the Top Words by Kate Rose
To be 100% true is to be naked.
Perhaps that’s why it’s
called the naked truth.
I can no longer hide
behind this mask.
Behind these layers I’ve laid down.
To show you who I am,
I must, layer by layer,
remove the armor.
Separating the truth from the not
requires cutting away.
The knife feels serrated.
The pockets of resistance,
the places I most fear your rejection,
are the hardest to reveal.
As I show it to you,
I must within
heal it, too.
For how can I expect you
to accept this part of me,
if I, myself, cannot let it be?
Breathing in, I remove the chainmail: Inspiration.
Breathing out, I peel back the flesh: Expiration.
Exposed now for you to see.
Open, feeling, being, breathing.
I want to run from it,
as much as to it.
Revealing soft, supple flesh.
Now you see
another part of me.
Naked.
Revealed.
Pulsating in vulnerability.
No longer evading the light,
I can now rest more easily
in the truth of me.
Namaste.
Photo by stockimages at freedigitalphotos.net
I want you to want me.
Just don’t for
one bloody second
need me.
Walk next to me, equally.
Just as we are.
Accepting the truth.
As trees stand together in the forest,
each to each’s own whole and complete,
yet by the presence of others supported.
Walk with me through the valley.
Where death is but a shadow.
Fear not the hallow.
Reflections of one another; balanced.
Be your own, the yang.
Allow me mine, the yin.
Sing your song to me,
a unique melody.
Taking turns; reciprocity.
When you need me,
I stay out of guilt.
Hurting us both.
When you want me,
I can choose to remain out of love,
sans fear.
Namaste
Photo by dan at freedigitalphotos.net
For many years of my life, I have chosen to do the things that made me feel small. I feared sticking my neck out, being too big, too loud, too much 0f anything. I drove a small, quiet car that was fuel efficient. I wanted to blend in. I wanted to hide. I feared being seen. Mostly, I feared being big.
I thought I was safe in my little shell. I thought that if I just kept my head down and kept moving that I would incur less damage. I mostly wore demure clothes, never wearing heels or doing things to call attention to myself in public.
Being a 5’8″ tall woman does not lend one to being small.
No longer able to shirk my calling to be a bigger, better version of myself, I am learning to sing my own praises, and accept them from others. Trading in the light colored Prius for a “Firecracker Red” Jeep was also a start as the Prius was cramping my style; driving for just 5 minutes made my hip hurt.
Growing emotionally, I am now sharing the very things that scare me most and that make me feel the most vulnerable. This strengthens my emotional body.
While it is scary as hell, I pass through the valley. Once on the other side, I can revel in my newly exposed, wrinkle-free skin. With each revelation, I grow further into my magnificence, the glory of God that I am here to be.
Please join me!
Namaste.
Photo by amenic181 at freedigitalphotos.net
Opening my heart, sharing my vulnerabilities and being 100% honest can feel much like being flayed alive. I hold the knife.
The muscles ’round my throat tighten their grip as I breathe only into my chest, which tightens as I reveal another aspect that scares me about myself. This is far worse than public speaking. I feel naked.
While I am at the helm, I am steering my vessel headlong into turbulent waters. My mind feels watery, thoughts melt before they can be solidified. I grasp for something solid in shifting sands. The thoughts that usually flow freely feel clogged in the drain. Going nowhere. Fast.
Breathe, I repeatedly tell myself. You know this. You live this. You’ve got this.
With each sharing of my truth, I build strength within my being. With each card laid on the table, my light shines brighter. With each fear that I slay by bringing it to the light, the more faith I have in myself.
The flesh no longer flayed, the muscles relaxed, the breath returned, the truth is told and the wound begins to heal. With each wound healed, I grow further into my authentic self. Complete. Whole until myself. Another muscle built.
May we all be free of the fears that hold us back from our greatest potential.
Namaste.
Photo by anankkml at freedigitalphotos.net
It can sometimes be a challenge to dig under the veneer of our fears. There seems to be an emotional roadblock that can develop when we refuse to peer underneath the surface. On the other hand, freedom is easily granted to those who are willing to scratch the surface.
Over the past weekend, I saw where I was ashamed of my basic needs for food, shelter and comfort. It was only when I sat with the feeling that I was able to see its face clearly. Once I was able to see the underlying belief, I was able to talk back to it. Most importantly, it was then that I was able to release it.
It can be hard to dive into the water and see past the surface. It can be scary. How can you ever expect to find your sunken treasures if you never leave the safety of the boat?
It is once we leave the safety that we can discover the key to our freedom. Often times the very thing we resist is the place where we need to be.
Go ahead, jump in! The water, and your treasures, await!
Namaste.
Photo by Chaiwat at freedigitalphotos.net
