What a strange day today is, following a strange week, month…actually
YEAR!
Susie and I seem to be deeply involved in dismantling our
ego self-image at the deepest level at the moment. Everything we consult to
shine a light on this initiation, from guides to oracles, point to total
rebirth heralding a freedom of being that we have never before encountered. It
is my belief that our upcoming trip to India will serve to restore to us
long forgotten aspects of our higher selves and that our current challenges of surrender and
release are preparing the way for this to occur.
Entrenched karmic relationships have fallen away; old
patterns have impacted the physical with never before seen vehemence, all
creating a tempest of self-doubt and pain as well as hope and excitement. Susie
works with power, I with love and both of us walk tenderly, or should that be tentatively,
on the path of divine justice. That
is manifesting in ways we could never have predicted, operating completely
beyond the ego’s demands of ‘right and wrong”... but that is a topic for another day.
So within all this clearing it is no surprise that I came
across an old journal of mine from … wait for it … 1995! It’s positively cringe-worthy. I remember
some moments from that year, one being watching a terminally ill Ted Whitten
farewell the M.C.G in the arms of his son at the AFL State of Origin - a magic
moment. I remember being deeply entrenched in my career as a trainer but nothing compared
to how desperately I was trying to find my 'spirit'. I’m still single, though I make mention of my ‘doormat’
relationship returning, so not sure what was going on there. Pretty sure though it will be
a reference to my now husband as we were 'off and on' for many years. (And I was the ‘doormat’
in case you’re wondering, though not anymore!).
What struck me as I read through the pages of my tattered journal was the
indecision and fear that characterised, no dominated, my life. This was well before we began
work on Your Beautiful Life and it seems I was always polarised and wound tight as I sought ‘right’
action, decisions and choices. Every feeling, every discomfort, every confront had to be
eliminated and that had to be done by ‘right choice’. I was so busy analysing my
life I’m surprised I had time left to actually live it.
As I winced over my “3 possibilities” for the angst I was
feeling toward one particular mentor and re-read my list of ‘6 things’ I’d
learned from my struggle that led me to eventually leave the group that I
actually loved, (yes really!) I could
only feel immense gratitude that I no longer lived my life in that way.
The search for ‘right’ response in connection to a desired
outcome is one we make forever in vain. To lean in to life as it is in
openness, fearlessness, faith and love is the only response that is necessary. If
that is too difficult right now because life is too brutal, simply begin by
accepting whatever is occurring in your reality right now and breathe into it.
Try to respond in a way that breaks the lower response and attachment to those things that we
feel all too easily - that is, jealousy, anger and hatred. This can only be
done in the moment, one response at a time. However, those responses will gain
mass and life WILL expand accordingly ... my dusty, angst filled 1995 journal is witness to
that truth.
In all those pages of fear and uncertainty, I found one
sentence that is worth sharing here in love. It crystallises the real source of
my fear as well as my deepest hope, proof again that the seeds of one are
always found in the other and hence we must master both. Avoidance is futile.
“She who cannot howl, will not find her pack”
It is dated 1/4/95 and I gave it an entire page to itself –
such was my reverence for it.
I can’t remember whether I wrote it or was merely repeating
it. I really hope I wrote it and given that wolf is my spirit totem and the punctuation is wrong, I think I
did!
Until next time, I hope you hear my howls and our pack
continues to grow. I’ll meet you all in the energy of the full moon, in the
inner planes of awareness.
Namaste
Sally
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