Essentially Powerful

Essentially Powerful

It’s 6am. I haven’t thought about my dreams yet. They’ll evaporate soon. Melt into the ether like so much party banter from the night before. It’s Sunday. I’m wondering about who will ask me for what and whether that’s what’s really going on. What’s really going on?

The universe asks you to listen. When it’s loudest you can’t bare the dissonance (Ken Stone might say), the distraction (John Carter might say), the high pitch alarm, the smoky haze, the multiple demands from various directions. I’m not sure how to pin down exactly what it feels like because it’s different every time, and there’s no sense of it being an unnatural interruption… for me.

For other people, for the people I care about, it’s a catastrophe! It’s painful, a disaster. An unpredictably dangerous attack on their very capacity to exist. It screams so brightly they feel the urge to end it all, to remove themselves in order to find some peace. But not for me.

For me, it is an urgent telegram. A loud invitation, a call to action (to be present). It’s like a rapid heart beat asking you to breathe or a sensitivity to dust asking you to wipe down all the surfaces in your home and refresh the world. Each moment, each scenario, each ‘distraction’ is a calling. Right now the calling of purpose is loudest. It asks me to say “no” for myself. It asks me to stand in my power and demonstrate my love for those closest to me by giving them space to stand in theirs. It is an unfamiliar request. I am not sure of the protocols, except to listen to the call and speak my truth.

The unspoken fills my early morning, my late night. I know to bring myself back to what is happening, to where I am present to my power. I know to trust that this is enough, that I am enough, that the request is never without purpose. If I can stand in my truth, in the face of any other pull – to be caring, to sate another’s hunger, to quell their storm, to find the familiar – then I am serving. I am embodying my purpose, my present.

It is never as you imagine. For many, the story of being pulled away from what they know is not about a violent stranger. It is the one’s we truly love, the things we hold dear, that tempt us to stay silent when asked to speak. They are more likely everyday moments than grand political statements where clear lines can be drawn. Do you know them? Can you feel the last time you stood in your power and allowed some lesser calling to direct your actions?

It is nought to be ashamed of. Shame can only blur your vision. It tells you the story from a particularly ugly place. A picture of you justly punished and rewarded is not acknowledging your purpose, or your power. Those moments that frightened you to give your power away (again, as Ken would say) are yet another invitation. To know yourself, to know your experience of the world uniquely yours. The feelings and tales you tell about how they came about, all central to your knowing as only you can. No shame in that.

No shame in admitting that things felt a particular way or told a particular story. Not if you give yourself permission to embody the spiritual experience as a human being. Not if you know all experiences as serving you, as valuable conversations with the All That Is. Not if you know your own sense of life having no bounds bar the stories you now tell, in this moment.

A breath. A moment to pause, to take in the world from this place. To know myself as a powerful being with a purpose I cannot sway from no matter how many temptations to give my power away. No, I am what I am. Not because I do things in a particular style that other people can identify and label, but because it is my essence. And no amount of ‘distraction’ or the unspoken can diminish this truth.

So go gently as you listen for the calling. Go gently as you answer it’s pious bell. There is nothing more beautiful than an embodied experience. Whether a powerful toll or mere tinker bell. The world is not looking for soldiers of spirit unwavering obedient disciplined men. It seeks a more natural family circle, tormented by choice and uncertain as hell. With the truth revealed in every moment there can be no more rules to give you an edge. We each have a place to stand on the planet. A role, a part, an essence, a pledge. I can’t know yours but from how I’m connected to this moment with time to tune for myself. You cannot know mine and so it continues, until we all plug in to right now for ourselves, indifferent to stories of what ‘they’ are doing too busy focused on what’s happening now. Responsible only for how you are feeling as far as the story for who, what, and how. One great big recycled language of energy pointing us all to how we feel loved. Our uniqueness the thing that draws us together, interdependent, entangled. No below, no above. Just one multi-dimensional conscious experience expressing itself in every breath. No time, no journey, no struggle for enlightenment. The lessons are over. There will be no test. I’m standing in time as a powerful being receptive to life as a phrase to embrace. If you’re waiting for something to change to invite you, it’s already happened. Just surrender to grace…

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I must be…

I must be…

Sometimes I feel as if I have fallen out of time. There’s an email from a new friend and I see the sparkles of a life I am destined to live. It takes me into a vision then dissolves leaving me to my present moment, wondering if I am delusional or simply connected.

How many times do you need to be reassured before you know that your gifts are real? Is it not so much a matter of numbers but more about who tells you you’re fabulous? Or perhaps the truth will never sink in and you will live out your life in doubt, forever questioning whether you deserve it or not – all that effortless being.

I am an oracle. I see-feeL-hear and know things that need to be expressed. The adventure I am on is a particularly exciting one. Every day a new reality, every moment an invitation. Stimulated by curiosity and undampened by pauses or storms, my life is a brutal honesty that really does see nought but the beauty of souls yearning to touch and feel, to smell life’s romance, to taste joy, and breathe poetry like wild wild flowers.

Instead, you are oft afraid. Afraid to look silly or be misunderstood. So, you fill up the spaces with music and echoes of conversations you don’t even know you want to have. Sometimes looking confident is important. So much so that you forget how to be anything else. How to indulge your innate curiosity about living for the sake of being present to each and every sensation.

You feel rude and imposing when being yourself, when indulging your fascinations. You apologise for the way you laugh, the way you look when you cry, the things you want for yourself. And then you realise there’s no way around it. Life is nothing without joy.

Happiness is a series of surrenders to feeling the fear and doing it anyway: to telling the truth, to asking for what you want, to walking out to the edge removing your cloak and shining, unashamed of your innocence. The rest of your exploits are dust upon the surface, floating in the air. Suspended in time, the dust mesmerises you. Settled on the surface, in the creases of ornamental trinkets, the dust annoys you: makes you question your own ability to care for things, to deserve things, to know what represents you. The dust distracts you with busy work. It asks you to go over your possessions, your photos, your windows into other worlds you might explore if it weren’t for all the dust.

“I must be” you ponder.

I am what I am, and there is no other way for me to know God but to be a moment in time. A child embroiled in the art of life, singing and staining the world with all that lifts my heart like so much faith. An oracle who can see-feel-hear your beauty and communes with your soul. An empath who knows you long to feel loved, I dive deep into the fear of all that open space that is being made for me, and know that I must be.

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