You’re on such holy ground.
The stirring, the revealing, the accepting, the healing.
We are all both light and dark and we have to learn how to live in the balance of both.
We set ourselves free by loving both, honoring both, giving space for both to breathe - that’s how we keep ourselves from being consumed by darkness or idealizing light.
It’s what every sage and mystic went to the deep desert to learn and as empaths we’re actually given a stronger tendency towards living in the balance.
We just have to hone our ability to live in the tension of being both light and dark and with self kindness and self love fueling the way we wander.
Being human and divine means being both earth and stars, both inward and upward, both grounded and rising, both gentle and strong, both light and dark.
It’s the birthright we aren’t taught to explore.
You’re exploring and that’s so fucking powerful.
You’re deep in the desert, my love.
Encountering, struggling, and encountering again.
It’s all going to shift here.
The Divine has ALWAYS dealt in wilderness.
When you feel lost remind yourself of the mantra Brene Brown wrote for us: being all light is as dangerous as being all dark, simply because denial of emotion is what feeds the dark.
Be both. Without shame or fear.
Without questioning your innate goodness.
We’ll always circle the law of detachment, knowing that our hearts want to grip the known like it’s the only thing keeping us breathing. We’ll thread our fingers through the past and call it love, but love has always been the unraveling, the tug to unfurl our lives like sails and let the unknown open up around us. We were meant for open water, for endless horizon, for risk and for experience. We were meant for more.
And we’ll face ourselves over and over again, tiptoeing around the fear of what new thing could liberate us or demolish us. We can set ourselves free, but not without severing the pieces of ourselves we’ve left in another heart. We can rewrite the story, but not without the grief of moving from one chapter to another. We can choose healing, but not without exposing the wound to the air. We can light the way, but not without setting fire to the bridges we have spent years building.
The law of detachment will invite us to the clarity of where we are right now and where we know we are going. The practice of relinquishment will ask us to give up control of how we get there. We may know that the goal is wholeness, freedom, wildness, and growth, but we don’t need to know how we get there. Let the universe move around you, the divine flow pull life all the way through you, let love expand your broken heart.
Let yourself live.
Just as life happens with you.
How we move from here to there is a free fall, a knowing that we will land softly if we give way to the process rather than struggling against it. So detach from control, from desperation, from manipulation, from codependency. Practice letting the force of Love do its thing. Maybe the sensation of falling will become the full, powerful sense of sails full of wind and ships that fly over the water. Maybe you’ll wake up to what divine love has been creating all along. Freedom, babes. The story is always about freedom.
Some things just burn for a very long time, I guess. Some hurt just pounds away in your body until you start to mistake it for the sound of your own heartbeat. Familiar. Constant. Instinctual. And even when you lift layer after layer of the ache away into the air, there it is. There it is because there you are. And the questions that linger like smoke around the bonfire of grief in your heart, they surface when it’s time to let loose again. Maybe you forgot that it was pain at the ground floor so you let the lion through the gate, desperate for something wild to stir your soul again. Maybe you named so many aches, so many traumas, so many losses, so many abuses but this one just kept burning.
And there is now. There is you. There is this. The way you burn so deep you can hardly breathe. It’s never the pain of what is. It’s the pain of what never was.
So okay. Curl in, reach out, love yourself whole. You’ll have to do it again in the morning and again at the next curve in the road, but you are made of fire and air. You are made to rise, to lift, to release. Burn on, love.
“You are your medicine.”
/ S.C. Lourie
Things I’ve learned through doing deep heart work in the middle of heartbreak, loss, and reclaiming myself:
🌵 I wasn’t the best version of me for a long time & that’s ok. I lost a lot because of the way grief moved through me, but I can have compassion for myself & others. Some relationships don’t outlast emotional hurricanes, but maybe they weren’t meant to.
🌵 Someone said something to me and about me once in their own grief & anger that offended the hell out of me. I pushed back on it. Hard. But it keeps coming back to me & I’m realizing now that they were right. It stung when they said it because I already felt so lost, but I can hear it with clarity now.
🌵 Healing is a mess. It is painful, & uncomfortable, & requires a daily cleaning out of the wound. It limits the way we move & live, making it hard to even be human some days. And I’m okay with that. I know I’m slowly working my way into a new kind of life. I know it’s going to cost me the old life.
🌵 Mistakes are a given. They ARE going to happen & they’re going to happen often. I stopped trying to live perfectly & made peace with the mistakes I am bound to make. That was the most liberating decision.
🌵 Energy matters. I’ve known almost right away who I vibe with & I’ve learned how to trust that. Wherever I have a deep, energetic connection with someone there is opportunity for a massive amount of healing or freedom. We are meant to serve love to one another & it comes in so many different ways. The universe is always moving forward & I’m learning how to follow.
🌵 I’m a good mom. I’ve worked my ass off for years to trust that (just ask @ginadpollard). I’m not perfect & I don’t pretend to be, but my kids know how fiercely loved they are & how free they are to be themselves. They are my first thing. Always. I will mama wolf my way all the way home with them & they never have to doubt that.
🌵 Forgiveness has nothing to do with forgetting, but everything to do with setting myself free. It’s the daily decision to cut the rope and let people float away. It’s the intentional practice of refusing to poison myself with resentment & I am free-er because of that.
“Run for, run for those hills babe
let go of the dark days.
let go of the world.
Make it all up as you dance along
just like we all have done,
for all of our lives.
It all comes, it all comes when
it wants to, not when you want it to,
at the strangest times.”
The practice of staying present, staying soft, staying brave when its hardest to. The commitment to breathing all the way through anger, or resentment, or pain when it presents itself. Not around it, but through it. Not away from it, but into it. Dissolving it with presence and compassion. Unraveling the words that fling straight into your gut and aim for your heart. Remembering that once you were loved here, once you were face to face with a friend. Guarding your own love, determined to not let it burn down with the house, to not let it lift like smoke. Because love is what keeps us kind, keeps us soft, keeps us moving forward.
But holding your heart safe from the flames, learning how to rise up anyway. Letting go of the dark days even as they happen, shedding the fear even as it surfaces. Hands on your own soul, eye contact with your own thoughts. Letting them say what they need to say before you open your hands and let them lift away.
Once @thetypeahippie told me, “Everything will be okay because we will make it okay.” And that’s the mantra. All will be well. We will make sure that it is.
Don’t slip under, don’t grow hard, don’t lose your own soul in exchange for revenge. Revenge is not a language your good heart speaks. It is a language that fear teaches you, ache presents to you, and desperation convinces you of. Let the shame live anywhere else. But not here. Not in your body, not in your energy, not in your mind. When it comes for you, run for the hills. Find a place to breathe and forgive. Find a way to cut the rope and set yourself free.
“this is a
touching of the hem.”
Let’s do this; let’s hold our hands up against the thoughts, and memories, and words that stick to our skin while they turn the story into a painful examination of what is wrong with us. Let’s shed that. Let’s walk humbly with one another, always watching for the ways we can turn softer, but with an innate knowing that we aren’t meant to live underground. Let’s stop burying our good good hearts under the way people treat us, the way they talk about us, the way they misread us. Let’s grow together, straight out of solid rock if we have to. But let’s shed everything that slides in under our ribs and leaves us feeling ashamed of who we are.
I remember doing my friend @morgandaycecil’s pilgrimage years ago and cutting out a little square of paper that said, “my heart is good”. I put it on my fridge and asked those words to uproot the toxic theology of being forged with a deceiving heart (sin nature). I left it there until I felt it, until I could say it out loud without choking. I mantra’d the hell out of that one. And it started something for me.
I KNOW this now. I know it for me and I know it for you: your heart is good. You entered into this world good and things have happened to divorce you from your own birthright, but it’s never left you. The Divine breathed life into existence and called it good. That word still reverberates at the base of creation, shining like om at the core of who we are.
Everything else is just a misdirection. And those misdirections are a symptom of spiritual inflammation, its how our souls tell us to come home, to return, to find our way back to the path. Without shame, without getting small, without losing our freedom - we just redirect to the Divine goodness that lives in us like a rainbow of energy and hope.
You are good. Your heart is good. Divine Love spoke it and everything else is just commentary.
how do you give yourself
back to someone
that someone is you?”
It’s all grit and gentle thoughts, forgiveness and saying what you need to say, softness and sharp clarity, surrender and honesty. It is always always always a giving back because you have never really left you. You’ve just been silent, or lost, or afraid to balance your dark with your light. You may have scattered your pieces everywhere with everyone and forgotten that you are a healer who always regenerates. You might still feel battered, or fragmented, or gun shy, but none of that has anything to do with the relationship that is you and you.
If I could I would thank every person who helped me unlock the parts of me that were so desperate to be wanted. Whatever I thought I was holding back with human presence, I wasn’t. It was all still there, churning in me and leaking out. But gentle, kind, and honest people let me explore myself with them. They let me read my own soul while I was searching through theirs. And that is a gift I didn’t know I needed.
Take the step - or the whole freaking journey - to give yourself back to you. Because the truth is, babes, once you have yourself again you’ll wonder why you ever wanted someone else to have you. You’ll understand what every love story has ever been truly getting at, what every artist has ever been really creating. Love that wells up inside your soul and then burns away all the edges, and hems, and barriers that kept you distracted - that shit is powerful. Be that force. But first be a soft river of forgiveness, find your own instinctive, compassionate rituals - the kinds that move like waves over glass until all of it’s broken edges are smooth enough to run your fingers over and not be cut. It seems scary now, but I promise, I promise you’ll never be more alive than you are when you are yours.
We were talking about redemption and religion and how stagnant those two things seem to be painted. But then what we know about redemption, and spirituality, and creation, and life. How they aren’t stagnant at all, they’re always evolving and becoming something new. She said that the redemptive act of a tree when it dies it not to come back to life, but to have dropped seeds that bring something new to life. And THAT is what I’ve been doing with my life - not trying to come back to an old life, but trying to make something new with the seeds I’ve been infused with.
Whatever it takes to do that, do it. Whatever makes you feel alive in a new way, do it with all your soul. Don’t worry about what religion says redemption is, it is rarely something so tangible anyway. Redemption is the ongoing creative act of divine love, it is the spark of divine breath that fills our lungs and exposes itself every time we see new plant life, new regeneration, new growth. We are the manifestation of divine creativity and it is fucking incredible.
PC: Lisa Boehm
“You’re worth love that doesn’t disguise itself. Love that doesn’t hide when it’s name is called out. Love that doesn’t run away when it’s approached with dilemma. Love packed full of honesty, vulnerability, and sweetness.”
Sometimes we have to hear the same line over & over again until we hear it. Sometimes the process of healing starts with denial, with resistance, with a quiet rebellion of fear & hurt. All the traumas, rejections, & reasons to NOT believe that the universe wants GOOD for us piles up around us & it takes awhile to dismantle them.
Gina keeps telling me that I am worthy of healthy love and I hear her, but everything in me resists it. Wanting something and being worthy of it are two very different things. But healing is the peeling away of every painful layer, every moment over a lifetime that has said otherwise, every encounter that gives us reason to believe that healthy love doesn’t even exist.
It’s funny how the complete deconstruction of my faith system has left me with more capacity to believe in something I have barely witnessed. Spiritual awakening is like that, I guess.
I climbed up in the desert last night and spent forever just staring at a scraggly bush, thinking about Moses and the burning bush. Thinking about Rob Bell saying that Moses didn’t take off his shoes because the ground was suddenly Holy. He took of his shoes because he suddenly realized the ground had ALWAYS BEEN Holy. It has to be like that. Love has to be like that. It’s not that it suddenly arrives, it’s just that at some point we wake up to it.
Eventually we find ourselves in the presence of something extraordinary and then we know in our guts that it was always there, always burning in us. We just didn’t have eyes for it until now.
We leave everything familiar, abandon the normal we’ve been conditioned to, and wander alone for awhile. We take apart the walls we’ve built to keep us safe, to keep us quiet, to keep us small. We risk everything, we become willing to have nothing, to become soft again. Otherwise we’ll miss it.
Is anything less than an epic, and overflowing, and healthy love even worth having?
“Let a new life happen to you.”
Open your rib cage to it, let newness trickle through your tired body and into your dry soul. Breathe it, lungs stretching with oxygen and prana flooding your veins. It will startle you by asking you to trust, to risk, to feel. Let it. You lost so much in the old life, you trusted love then and now it takes all of your fire to believe that love is still good. You gave soul, and loyalty, and touch to a source that couldn’t see you - you tried to wring water from a dry sponge. But that was then and this is now. So let a new life happen to you. Let a new Way open in you. Let a new moon pull the emptiness back and turn your depletion into a new well of new love. Heal. And open. And inhale. And know that you are worthy of it, that you have always been worthy of it but now you are ready for it.
“You will become a graveyard
of all the women you once were
before you rise one morning
embraced by your own skin.
You will swallow
a thousand different names
before you taste the meaning
held within your own.”
Every internal death and every spiritual rising will be worth it. Every loss and every painful breaking will crack the sky open even more. Every act of becoming will shake the hurt out of your bones, the shame out of your soul, the shallow out of your capacity to love.
You are worthy of every good thing, every kind word, every true soulmate. You are worthy... and that may be the thing you’ve been trying to name all along.