At Any Moment, There Is Sacredness

I watched the sun rise again yesterday – gold and pink and red, above the tender fog resting on the bay. I stood at the edge of the slough, the crisp air slipping in large swallows in to my eager lungs. From my car, the driver side door open, the soft, insistent song of Caressa Starshine added a melodic and sacred quality to the expectant atmosphere, the sun slowly ascending to the tip of the mountain peaks. Joy ascended in me, in kind – filling, as though I were a chalice, with the Universe’s light pouring steadily within.

Moments like those, penetrating and filled with hope, make the tears often worth it. Slowly, I get better at picking myself up when I’m down. I remember those moments of sacred joy, and I recall that, at any time, I can invoke that feeling.

As in this morning – irritated, cranky, shaking. Dispelled with lit incense, ocean waves, and a pronoiac prayer to the lightening sky. Then, the donning of colorful clothing. And now, sitting in Two Sister’s Bakery and Cafe, sipping Lady Grey tea and smiling at the sun as it reaches through the lace curtains and onto my cheek. Later, reiki healing and divine laughter.

And them the daydreams – conscious manifestations of that which waits deep in my soul.

I surrender to the universe.

 

~

 

A PRAYER FOR US

 

This is a perfect moment. It’s a perfect moment because I have been inspired to say a gigantic prayer. I’ve been roused to unleash a divinely greedy, apocalyptically healing prayer for each and every one of us — even those of us who don’t believe in the power of prayer.

And so I am starting to pray right now to the God of Gods . . . the God beyond all Gods . . . the Girlfriend of God . . . the Teacher of God . . . the Goddess who invented God.
DEAR GODDESS, you who always answer our very best questions, even if we ignore you:

Please be here with us right now. Come inside us with your sly slippery slaphappy mojo. Invade us with your silky succulent salty sweet haha.

Hear with our ears, Goddess. Breathe with our lungs. See through our eyes.
DEAR GODDESS, you who never kill but only change:

I pray that my exuberant, suave, and accidental words will move you to shower ferocious blessings down on everyone who reads or hears this benediction.

I pray that you will give us what we don’t even know we need — not just the boons we think we want, but everything we’ve always been afraid to even imagine or ask for.
DEAR GODDESS, you wealthy anarchist burning heaven to the ground:

Many of us don’t even know who we really are.

We’ve forgotten that our souls live forever.

We’re blind to the fact that every little move we make sends ripples through eternity. Some of us are even ignorant of how extravagant, relentless, and practical your love for us is.

Please wake us up to the shocking truths. Use your brash magic to help us see that we are completely different from we’ve been led to believe, and more exciting than we can possibly imagine.

Guide us to realize that we are all unwitting messiahs who are much too big and ancient to fit inside our personalities.
DEAR GODDESS, you sly universal virus with no fucking opinion:

Help us to be disciplined enough to go crazy in the name of creation, not destruction.

Teach us to know the distinction between oppressive self-control and liberating self-control.

Awaken in us the power to do the half-right thing when it is impossible to do the totally right thing.

And arouse the Wild Woman within us — even if we are men.
DEAR GODDESS, you who give us so much love and pain mixed together that our morality is always on the verge of collapsing:

I beg you to cast a boisterous love spell that will nullify all the dumb ideas, bad decisions, and nasty conditioning that have ever cursed all of us wise and sexy virtuosos.

Remove, banish, annihilate, and laugh into oblivion any jinx that has clung to us, no matter how long we have suffered from it, and even if we have become accustomed or addicted to its ugly companionship.

Conjure an aura of protection around us so that we will receive an early warning if we are ever about to act in such a way as to bring another hex or plague into our lives in the future.
DEAR GODDESS, you psychedelic mushroom cloud at the center of all our brains:

I pray that you will inspire us to kick our own asses with abandon and regularity.

Give us bigger, better, more original sins and wilder, wetter, more interesting problems.

Help us learn the difference between stupid suffering and smart suffering.

Provoke us to throw away or give away everything we own that encourages us to believe we’re better than anyone else.

Brainwash us with your compassion so that we never love our own freedom more than anyone else’s freedom.

And make it illegal, immoral, irrelevant, unpatriotic, and totally tasteless for us to be in love with anyone or anything that’s no good for us.
DEAR GODDESS, you riotously tender, hauntingly reassuring, orgiastically sacred feeling that is even now running through all of our soft, warm animal bodies:

I pray that you provide us with a license to bend and even break all rules, laws, and traditions that hinder us from loving the world the way you do.

Show us how to purge the wishy-washy wishes that distract us from our daring, dramatic, divine desires.

And teach us that we can have anything we want if we will only ask for it in an unselfish way.
DEAR GODDESS, you who just pretend to be crazy so you can get away with doing what’s right:

Help us to be like you — wildly disciplined, voraciously curious, exuberantly elegant, shockingly friendly, fanatically balanced, blasphemously reverent, mysteriously truthful, teasingly healing, lyrically logical, and blissfully rowdy.
And now dear God of Gods, God beyond all Gods, Girlfriend of God, Teacher of God, Goddess who invented God, I bring this prayer to a close, trusting that in these pregnant moments you have begun to change all of us in the exact way we needed to change in order to become the gorgeous geniuses we were born to be.

Amen
Om
Hallelujah
Shalom
Namaste
More power to you
Oh, but one more thing DEAR GODDESS, you pregnant slut who scorns all mediocre longing:

Please give us donkey clown pinatas full of chirping crickets,

ceramic spice jars containing 10 million-year-old salt from the Himalayas,

gargoyle statues guaranteed to scare away the demons,

lucid dreams while we’re wide awake,

enough organic soup and ice cream to feed all the refugees,

emerald parachutes and purple velvet gloves and ladders made of melted-down guns,

a knack for avoiding other people’s personal hells,

radio-controlled, helium-filled flying rubber sharks to play with,

magic red slippers to contribute to the hopeless,

bathtubs full of holy water to wash away our greed,

secret admirers who are not psychotic stalkers,

mousse cakes baked in the shapes of giant question marks,

stories about lightning strikes that burn down towers where megalomaniacal kings live,

solar-powered sex toys that work even in the dark,
knowledge of secret underground rivers,

mirrors that the Dalai Lama has gazed into,

and red wagons carrying the treats we were deprived of in childhood.

 

Nature-Deficit Disorder and Earth-Based Spirituality

Have you been outside today?

How about yesterday? The past week? The past month?

How long were you out there? Did you stop for a couple precious moments, before rushing back inside or into your car, escaping from the wintry air? Or did you take a long walk, moving past the cold and soaking yourself in the silence and birdsong?

‘Nature-Deficit Disorder’ is a term that was first popularized in the book Last Child in the Woods, which focused on the negative effects of children not spending any time in nature and too much time in front of screens. More recently, the same author wrote The Nature Principle, which focused on adults who have nature-deficit disorder, and how to create a balance between technology and nature.

It’s an unfortunate truth that most of us do, in fact, have NDD. Don’t believe me? Keep a notebook for a month and write down every single time you are inside, and for how long every day. Then, write down how much time you spend outside on a daily basis. For most children, young adults, and adults in today’s technology-focused society, nature is a nice thing to think about or spend time within in the summer once in a while, but it’s not an active and integral part of our lifestyle.

What this means, for those of us who practice a nature-based spirituality like many of those that fall under the label of “Paganism,” is that we, more than ever, must learn to practice what we preach. As I read through The Nature Principle, I looked back on the nearly-over month of January 2013, and I tried to remember all the times I had spent more than a few minutes in nature. I was horrified to realize that my nature excursions were limited to a select few days, spread out over the past 26 days – two days where I was forced to walk to and from town because my car was at the shop, one day for an hour-chunk in which I took some kids I was babysitting for a walk per request of the mother, and lastly, just two days ago when it was unusually warm for an Alaskan January (35 degrees Fahrenheit – it was like a spring day!) and I spent a few hours on the beach with a friend, taking photos.

I pride myself on the fact that I follow an earth-based path, and it’s what motivates me to try my best – as money allows – to eat all-organic and local, as well as to do what I can to lower my energy consumption. However, if I have nature-deficit disorder, as many people my age do, do I really practice what I preach, and am I really as connected with the earth and its patterns as I like to think I am?

Well, the answer is no, of course. Although the left side of my brain is scrambling to rationalize my relatively few nature excursions – it’s Alaska in January, it’s effin’ cold out there! Just a week ago, a guy was lost for three days in the wilderness and almost died! - the right side of my brain is recognizing that my spirituality and life would be all the more richer if I spent more time in nature each day. I know, at my core, that nature is healing, and if ever I feel within myself an imbalance, if my emotions are out of whack and I feel out of place, sad, angry, or uninspired, a simple walk in the forest or on the beach for an hour will give me more rejuvenation that a pint of ice cream and a movie will ever do. Yes, it’s cold outside (today, it’s six degrees Fahrenheit out, not including wind chill, which lowers it to about zero degrees Fahrenheit), but that’s what clothing layers, jackets, hats, mittens, and fleece-lined leggings are for.

If I believe, in my spirituality, that the earth is Divine, and that we are part of the Earth, does that not mean that I should be out there communing with it? That I should be out there connecting with it? More than that – if I want to create the life I truly wish to live, that is, one of peace and joy and creativity every day, then spending time in nature is the ingredient that I haven’t yet taken a hold of yet. I keep searching for the missing link to happiness, and it’s been in front of me all along – nature is the key, and I have no excuse to not take it and put it in that lock.

Ways to Incorporate More Nature into My Life

• Take a at least ten-to-twenty-minute walk each day
• Make the walk fun by incorporating a creative or spiritual goal into it, like walking meditation or collecting natural items for art
• Walk with a like-minded friend
• Take art into nature – paint or draw or photograph in a natural setting
• Practice my spirituality in nature – for example, circles in the woods or balefires on the beach
• Plant a garden (this will have to wait until I move to Maui in April, of course)
• Recycle and compost

The Spiritual Struggle of Travel Versus Staying Still

Since I was young, my soul has always pulled irrevocably in two directions: the desire to connect with every mysterious nook and cranny of the Big Wide World (starting with my age-ten dream of buying a hippie van and driving all over the world in it, oceans be screwed), and the desire to immerse myself in a state of stillness, in a place I can call Home.

You can see how these two desires can tend to clash – on one hand, I feel the expansive parts of my self tugging and pulling me to other countries, other lands, the great unknown that I wish desperately to know. On the other hand, I feel a deep and abiding need to have a space of my own, to fill with my energies and the energies of the love of my life, to create art and educate myself on the wonders of the Universe that I’m not capable of traveling to.

Each need is rooted in a deeply in a need to connect with myself and with the world on a spiritual level. Since I was old enough to know what spirituality meant to me, I knew that my soul needed to travel. I felt that, in order to know and appreciate the Divine and the world he/she/it has created, I needed to put myself bone-deep into it – experience every place, every culture, every way of being. But on yet another hand, as I have grown, I have come to realize that travel itself is not enough to satisfy the spiritual longing deep within my soul: the hunger to feel the sacredness in each and every moment, to be immersed in the Divine each second of the day – it can’t simply be learned through travel, but it needs to be learned through being still, by learning to appreciate every minute, by consciously creating my reality and putting myself in a state of contentment with my life.

When I set off, at 18, to Australia with a backpack and a plane ticket, I wanted it to change my life. I had a picture of myself in my mind, of what I wanted to be when I came back from travel: enlightened, joyful, at peace, and fully connected with divinity. But as I went through Australia and had my experiences and made mistakes and had fun, I realized a deep truth that I had a hard time admitting to myself before: travel will never enlighten me, unless I find a way to enlighten myself, regardless of where I am and what kind of situation I’m in. I kept pursuing the false dream of many would-be budget backpackers: that travel would somehow, miraculously, make me more than I am. And indeed, traveling Australia for that year was life-changing in many ways – I discovered a lot about who I am and what I really want out of my life. But it did not enlighten me, and it did not bring me peace. Perhaps that was because it was my first time backpacking – there is a lot I would have done differently would I could go back and do it all over again; but what it all comes down to is my final realization that travel alone will not bring me peace. I need to find the peace within myself first, before I will be able to fully appreciate travel for what it is: the pursuit to see the world and the wonders it contains.

And so, for the first time in my life, I’m striving to find peace and sacredness right where I am, right now. And I’m moving into my first apartment with the love of my life in Maui – a place to call my – our – own, and a place where I can learn to be still, right now.

The spiritual struggle that is there, is that my need to travel hasn’t abated with this realization – every day, I lapse into daytime dreaming, envisioning myself traveling to all the mysterious lands: Mongolia, Turkey, Africa, Europe, the Middle East, Southeast Asia, Antarctica….the longing to send myself into the wonderful chaos of the world has not ceased, and I don’t think it ever will. It’s a struggle for me, choosing to be in one place for an extended, set amount of time in order to cultivate deliberately stillness and peace within myself, instead of hopping onto a plane and launching myself into the unknown. I know both experiences will hold incredible things for me, and yet I feel a strange sense of panic when I realize I’m putting off travel for at least the next year, and I wonder how in the world I’ll be able to survive, and how in the world I’ll be able to achieve the state of peace I long for.

It is a struggle, and yet I keep on walking forward. For now, my walk will be slow and intentional, my goal always in the fore-front of my mind – but that tugging, that pulling to travel, will also always be there. And somehow, I must reconcile the two.

Two Thousand Thirteen, Early Morning

Silence –

deep like the rumbling

in my breast.

Slipping tendrils and

shades of pink, touching

the dripping, shimmering

sticky snow

on the near-skeletal branches.

 

Inaudible gasp –

delight and Spirit

penetrating the hard

exterior.

A sacred expansion

seeping out the pores of

my shivering, goose-pimpled,

light-shedding skin

that reaches to touch.

 

An owl –

announcing its presence,

resounding its question

into the morning sunlight-strewn mist.

 

I call back,

and feel the joyful, striking pain

of consciousness stretching.

 

It’s quiet here,

in the deep.

Book Review: The Bowl of Light by Hank Wesselman

As I have mentioned before, while my love and I were in Maui, I had a series of spiritual experiences, the only one of which I described in detail on here being the West Maui labyrinth. In an effort to seek information about the experiences I was having, I went to a bookstore and began to look through the spirituality/New Age section. I came across the book The Bowl of Light: Ancestral Wisdom from a Hawaiian Shaman by Hank Wesselman, PhD.

While I’m not normally one to try and get into the spiritualities of other cultures, this book called to me and I found myself picking it up and walking to the cashier with it. Promptly after, I began to read it. It took me a couple of weeks to get through it, as I found it to be intensely deep – full of ancient wisdom and ancestral knowledge, offered up by the late Hawaiian kahuna, chief, and shaman Hale Makua to his dear friend, scholar, and anthropologist Wesselman. I often had to put it down and think on what I had read – meditation became a much more regular practice as I perused this book!

The first thing I noticed and was very impressed by was the care and respect Wesselman went at lengths to take as he wrote of his friendship with Hale Makua, and as he wrote of the chief’s teachings and wisdom. He shared only what he had been given permission to write prior to Makua’s death, and honored Hawaiian kapu – sacred law – by only revealing that which was allowed to be revealed. This alone impressed me and causes me to recommend the book, because cultural appropriation and disrespect for indigenous spiritualities is something I avoid whenever possible. Wesselman, in his utmost love for Hale Makua and for the Hawaiian culture, went out of his way to be respectful in every word he put on the pages.

Moving along, this book largely focuses on two things: the deepening friendship between Hale Makua and Wesselman throughout the years they knew each other, and Makua’s teachings as an authentic, initiated, and highly revered kahuna, chief and shaman. Their friendship is important in the book because it is through this friendship that an innate spiritual connection was made between the two, and through this connection, Hale Makua was able to entrust vast amounts of sacred information to Wesselman, much of which was kapu, and could not be revealed in the book. Makua obviously loved and trusted Wesselman very deeply, and considered Wesselman to be one of the central figures who would spread the message of aloha, love, and what Makua calls the Ancestral Grand Plan.

The wisdom throughout the book that Makua reveals hits right to the core and is largely soul-affirming and ground-shaking. Much of his teachings, which he would receive as direct messages from the ancestors, align exactly with scientific and historical events and discoveries, as well as what is happening in our world as we speak. It was quite incredible, as I read along, to find that every word Makua spoke resonated with the spiritual revelations I was beginning to have, as I am still beginning to have. Much of it was new information with me, and yet it spoke to a wild and pure Truth deep in my soul (of which Hale Makua says we have three). Towards the end of the book, as Makua spoke of the Ancestral Grand Plan in its relation to the world as it is today, I was struck once again by the validity and accuracy of what Makua says the ancestors, long ago, set in motion. He went right down into the detail, even referencing 2012 and 2013, making me wonder just how much of a coincidence it really was that I picked up this book rather than another one.

Here I will share the paragraph that resonated with me at this moment in time, because of what is happening not only in my personal life, but indeed, in what is going on in the world at large, but most especially the Western world:

“….it is important to become aware of the Ancestral Grand Plan. Those with a more awakened level of consciousness now have the potential to join the greater collective of awakened souls, and by doing so, they will enhance the matrix of creation itself…As this takes place on an ever-widening platform, a new foundation will be built on which it will become easier for those who are in the process of still getting there to move forward into their own state of awakening. This is happening right now, and this is why the year 2013 is what’s really important, not 2012. That’s when the next cycle of the ages will begin, and whatever we choose to create now will form the foundation of that next cycle.”

Wow. Wow. Wow.  I cannot tell you how many times, in the past couple of months, I have been reminded over and over, in one form or another, that 2013 is The Year. This is the year that, whatever we choose to manifest in our lives and in the world, will, in fact, set the tone for the next decade, the next, century, perhaps for the next thousand years. This is powerful stuff, and the fact that someone as deeply revered and connected to the spiritual and ancestral world as Hale Makua is – Wesselman says that Makua has one foot in the physical and one foot in the astral – has confirmed it, says quite a bit.

I won’t reveal any more that is in the book – I don’t want to deprive anyone else of the powerful impact that the book has. I’ll only say that I think every person in the world, especially those who no longer feel satisfied with the current systems, mindsets, and paradigms, cannot afford to not read this book. What you will discover within these pages is, put simply, life-changing.

I hope you all are having a very happy New Year.

A December Full Moon

For the first time in two or so years, I had a ritual with someone other than myself. How strange that sounds. I look back on those couple of years when I had slews of circles every week with friends – what a magickal time that was. I remember how every moment seemed tinged with  power, and every animal, every flower, every gust of wind harbored the secrets of the world. How joyfully I would circle with my friends, drunk on the energy we called up with our weaving voices.

But I digress. This past Friday, on the December full moon, I had a ritual with a friend. It was full of giggles and and confessions, comfort and solace, predictions and release. Awkward at first, but soon comfortable and tuned into the power around us, we sat in front of the altar facing each other. Candles were lit, and libations poured.

Quietly at first, then with growing confidence, we beseeched the Goddess to join us. We picked up our lunar beverage, and began, in turns, to speak. First, we expressed our gratitude for all we had received this past year in our lives. Then, we spoke of our goals. Though that was all the prepared ritual called for, we felt compelled to continue. We revealed our wishes for this year, as well as what our fears are. With a last toast to Her, we released our sacred words up into the sky, where we felt them received.

Soon, we had our cards out, giving each other readings. The insight was received, and we quietly shuffled them away in our minds. Offerings were given, and, with laughter, we said goodbye to Her and to the Elements, and took down our circle. The night ended in our quiet whispers and soon, sleep.

It felt good. I’m not sure why I felt compelled to share this here, other than how nice it felt to share my spirituality with someone other than myself. Solitary practices are infinitely satisfying, but there is a quality in sharing energy with a like-minded person that makes me feel ever so slightly more content.

In the traditional saying of circle-closing – merry meet, merry part, and merry meet again.

Spirituality Is A Verb

I am a Witch.

And wow, how powerful that statement feels, deep in my breast. It feels right and true and good. It feels powerful and blessing-filled.

Today, I was scrolling through Facebook and there was a photo that struck me quite incredibly – the background was the universe, and on the foreground, it said: “Not only are we in the Universe, the Universe is in us. I don’t know of any deeper spiritual feeling than what that brings upon me.” -Neil Degrasse Tyson

How much truth is there in that? When I am feeling the self-hate going, or when I find myself feeling hateful of someone else, all I have to do to feel the power and compassion of Spirit once more is by remembering: I am a spiritual being. They are a spiritual being. I am the Divine, and the Divine is me. The Goddess within me recognizes the Goddess within you.

I am a Witch, and I am a spiritual being. Powerful stuff, yo. 

But somehow, simply saying “I am a Witch” doesn’t feel enough. Remembering that I am a spiritual being doesn’t always help, either. Each and every time, it comes down to one simple thing: I must turn belief in to action. I must not only be a Witch, but practice witchcraft. I cannot simply be a spiritual being, but connect with and channel the Spirit in me each day. Feeling powerful and blessing-filled is not enough – I must be powerful and blessing-filled.

Spirituality is not a noun, or an adjective, stagnant and a simply description. Spirituality is a verb – an action. A movement, a flow. A spark of flame that grows with each passing moment, until  it is a raging fire which lifts our souls up into the skies. I must live and breathe and dance to the Spirit within me.

For too long, I remained stagnant in my practice. Forgetting the action within the verb, I lost touch with the spiritual being within me, and struggled to connect with it – I forgot all that being a Witch means. I forgot that, as with every art, I must practice.

I thank the Goddess I was able to remember. That I was capable of reconnecting to the spiritual being within me, and reconciling my struggle with witchcraft and with the concepts of light and of dark. I stood in front of my new altar, and I breathed deep, and I declared once more that I am a Witch – and with that declaration, my practice was renewed.

I have made a new resolution – not for the New Year, but for the New Life that stands before me. Spirituality will no longer be a noun or an adjective for me – it will be a verb, in every meaning of the word. And that New Life started when I chose once more to walk the path of Witchcraft. I strive to practice every day.

In the mornings, I meditate and do my card readings for the day. I circle each week, alone and with a like-minded individual(s). I have not been doing spells yet, but I plan to renew that practice as well. As long as I am in my Alaskan town, I will be attending reiki and sound healing circles at a local center. When I move to Maui (that’s right! I said it! Heehee!). I will find a center that does the same practices, and do it there as well. I want to connect further with my practice through art and through crafts, and through sharing that magick with the rest of the world in whatever forms I can find. Most of all, I want to find like-minded individuals in my new home and form a group with them, if there is not already one in existence.

I want my spirituality to once more be an inexplicable and tangible part of my existence, not separate from the rest of my life at all. I envision a life as the succulent wild woman I know I am, deep inside my spiritual self.

This vision fills my body with electricity, with excitement, with knowing.

I am a Witch, and my spirituality is a verb.

The Power of Intention and Dream-Wishing

Sometimes everything seems to fall into place.

An intention lights a fire in your stomach, and you wish fervently, with every cell in your body, for it to come true.

You don’t know how it’ll come true, or even if it will. You just know that you want it from the very depths of your soul.

And when that intention is finally aligned with your highest purpose, is aligned with Spirit – almost immediately, the pieces fall into place. The Universe takes care of the technicalities, and you’re simply left with the decision: to take it, or not to take it.

And of course, you take it.

Because when the Universe places your dreams in your lap, you gather them up in your arms and hold them tight.

It’s hard to believe, I know.

But I trust me.

Because it happened to me.

I woke up one day, a warm breeze blowing into my hotel room – ruffling my love’s hair.

And I knew. I knew what I wanted, wished, desired passionately – my very bones vibrated with the power of my intention. I voiced it to my love, I put those sacred words into the air.

And the Universe responded. All the pieces fell in place within a week. And all of a sudden, I was faced with the ultimate decision: to let go of my old life and embrace the wild beautiful one I had wished for a mere few days before, or to shrink into fear.

I did not shrink.

And I urge you, darling, to not shrink. I urge you, with all my heart, to align your intention and thrust it into the world.

Because you, love? You can create anything – you can create a life that sets your hair on fire.

Trust in yourself, and big things can happen.

Yesterday was a pivotal winter solstice – we’re in the fifth sun now, and the Age of Aquarius. It’s a full moon in a few days – potent time for manifestation. But 2013? That’s the biggie. This is the year, darlings. This is the year that will set the tone for the rest of your life.

This year, will you bring about your wildness dreams? Or will you shrink in fear of the unknown, rationalizing staying in the life you have grown too-comfortable in?

I believe in you, beautiful.

Believe in yourself as well.

I know the Universe does.

<3

Walking the Labyrinth

We got up near noon, and decided to drive up the north end of West Maui, hearing it was beautiful. After getting assorted snacks and drinks, we made our way north, and as we drove, we were awed by the beauty. It was incredible, and it made my love of Maui grow deeper. But it was one spot that solidified my decision.

Pulling over onto the side of the road, we grabbed the camera and headed towards a light beacon and two pools protected from the ocean waves by rocks that we had heard about. As we made our way down the fields, I was stopped short – there was a stone labyrinth next to the sea cliff. The stones had obviously been placed here long ago, judging by how deep they were in the ground and the grass growing over and covering some. But the path of the labyrinth was worn, and it was obvious many, many people had walked it. A welling of divinity flooded me, and an image flashed in my mind of a book cover – and I realized that, a short year or so ago, I had read about this place. Thousands have come here. I had forgotten all about it, but She had lead me to it nonetheless.

My love, seeing my awe of the labyrinth, left to explore the rocks so I could be alone. I put down my water bottle and approached the entrance and paused, letting my eyes sweep over it, feeling the gusting wind on my body. May I enter? I let my heart put out into the breeze. And deep within, I felt the resounding yes and stepped forward.

I walked slowly, feeling the grass under my feet and the sacredness dancing around me. The energy I knew as Spirit could be felt, palpable in the air, as it pressed around me. My skin tingled and my bones knew where I was. The energy bubbled up in my throat as I walked the labyrinth, and I let a song escape from my throat, feeling the energy flowing out with the words and the notes. Tears pricked my eyes as I felt myself overcome by Her, by the Universe, by the sacred love of the earth itself.

The wind blew around me and the ocean roared, crashing against the cliff, as I stepped finally into the center of the labyrinth and my song ended. I sat on the ground in front of the small mound of rocks, in which people had recently placed offerings – pennies, and a fresh coconut. Closing my eyes, I surrendered myself to Spirit and let it flow through me as the tears flowed also down my cheeks. I could feel Her in me, above me, beside me, beneath me, and it was all I could to not cry out in joy.

When I heard my love say my name, I opened my eyes. I kissed my fingers and gave them to the sky, the earth, and the mound of offerings. Wishing terribly that I had something to give, I gave instead my unending awe and love, and the promise that I would return. I stood then, and walked back through the labyrinth, giving thanks with every step, allowing Spirit to push me along. At the entrance once more, I kissed the air, reached my hands out, and brought them back to my heart. I could hear Her message, loud and clear.

This is where I belong.

Goddess Knows

 

That’s the card I pulled, when I asked Her if my decision was a good one. Completion. “Even in the ever-changing flow of life, there are times when we come to a point of completion. In these moments we are able to perceive the whole picture, the composite of all the small pieces that have occupied our attention for so long……whatever has been absorbing your time and energy is now coming to an end. In completing it, you will be clearing the space for something new to begin.”

Goddess knows.

Goddess knows that I’ve spent the past year and a half in a state of floundering flux, trying to sort out what I truly wanted out of life, what I truly wanted to do with my life. Goddess knows that I didn’t know the difference between my desires and other’s desires. Goddess knows that I had no idea whether I wanted to go to college, spend the rest of my life backpacking, or settle down somewhere. Goddess knows I was being bombarded by lots of opinions, and they were all so loud that the small, quiet voice of Spirit wasn’t able to get through – until I picked up a little book left behind in the closet of my hotel room, and began to read it.

Oh, the voice of serendipity. Goddess knows where I was going to get The Answer from.

The book was about a girl who wasn’t sure what she was doing with her life. She was much like me, in a way – desperately trying to sort out what she wanted with what everyone else wanted. Desperately trying to figure out who she was while trying to cut out the voices of everyone else. Gradually, throughout the book, she figured it out. She knew what she really wanted. She learned to push past her fears and listen to her heart. And she made the right decision.

With the turning of that last page, a wild knowing bloomed within me. I knew what I wanted. And I knew that it would be upsetting to all the people voicing different opinions that weren’t mine. I knew what I wanted to do with my life, what would make me happy. I voiced it to my boyfriend, and then to my best friend. And they were happy that I had finally figured it out. What She had been saying the whole time.

Goddess knows.

Goddess knows that you should turn inward, and find a way to listen to Spirit – to your own Spirit. Goddess knows that you can find a way to push aside everyone else’s opinions, and find your wild knowing. Goddess knows you’re strong enough. To make those big, scary leaps. Because sometimes leaps can feel like flying, and sometimes leaps can feel like falling – but they both take you right where you need to be.

I’m holding onto that image. The image of me looking valiantly out to sea, encompassed in my wild knowing, in the life that is mine, in the life that is manifested in the astral plane but not yet manifested in the physical. I’m holding on to that knowledge that it will happen, and that I can make it happen. Because I’m scared that other’s opinions will cloud my vision again. I’m blocking my heart from those voices that seek to lead me to where they wish to go, and not where I wish to go.

Because Goddess knows I will go where I need to be.

What is your wild knowing? What does your God(dess) know?