Ancestral Knowing

If we allow ourselves to be aware of the truth within our cellular structure, it will teach us things that we cannot learn in any other way. The spirit aspect of us is no more or less powerfully present than the density of what we determine to be physically 'solid', and is interwoven on all levels of our being. This may include things about our animal nature we don't wish to acknowledge, and speaks not only of ourselves, but all that surrounds us. Knowing, in this way provides divine support from within, and requires no need for outer protection or a masking of self. Our body and blood hold the keys to unlock ourselves and heal our ancestry back to the first; back to source. Freedom begins within.

A story of water and fire...

My mind reaches backward,
stretches forward
in a futile quest to stop the pain
twisting my gut
with worry and fear.
Heat sears my body,
as I toss and turn,
Inflamed.
Incensed.

Visceral,
fear memory of not being wanted--
sourceless,
deep vulnerability present within
crying out for wordless expression--
to be taken where it will,
though the mind struggles to pull me out,
like a drowning child.

This feeling is ancient,
and wants to attach itself here,
in this space.
Desperate for reassurance
of my own desirability,
that my existence matters
at all.
Feelings wash over me
like water;
I'm not even sure they belong to me,
yet they need expression,
and proof of Love.
What is that, in the face of eternity?

Is my own life not proof enough?

Tears carry me,
and my throat is hoarse, and raw.
Release is within,
but not accessible today.
The core of me knows
a truth I can't yet reach.
Calling into the dark,
Begging,
for someone to hold my heart--
to tuck me away
in a space of love
until I can find
where I lost the thread...

How we love...

The Beloved wears your face
in a waking moment
opening my mouth gently,
breathing in desire;

A longing in the belly,
and a spiraling movement of heart,
awakening a depth within
the center
unknown even to itself.

'Oh god' floats on the released throaty breath,
Adoring eyes watch, and feel and know.

This is how we love into and through
the Other.
This fragile, imperfect honoring
reaches depths and unlocks doorways
into Bliss.

It beckons like a crooked finger--
Urging, insistent,
Come with me.

Surrender

photo-- Dana Levy-Wendt

When you are crying, cry.
When you are flailing, flail.
When you are lost, sit and be still.
When you are in a tempest, let go.
Don't let anyone tell you how; you already know.

You can only be where you are.
So be there,
In the best way you know how.
That is enough, for now.

There will be a candle lit,
for when you find your way home.

Medicine for the Heart

Mexican spiritual heart with angel wings © Miroslaw Oslizlo

The heart in its wisdom

leads us;

At times with a gentle nudge

or with a bit and reins.

Nothing you've done

has led to this.

This isn't about the 'you' that does.

It's about the 'you' that IS.

No one is always happy.

Look at the false smiles

and desperate busyness

all around you.

So many others,

forlorn of simple kindness

and attention; "SEE ME!"

They hide the lie

even from themselves.

Medicine for the heart

can wear a thousand faces.

The heart of stone and water

knows this truth,

in its cold, still deep.

The heart of fire and wind

knows this,

whipped into frenzy

at the merest touch.

The heart within you

knows this, as well

and wishes to share a secret--

There is a gift to being contented

with one's life...

even with hell outside

the door,

and a raging storm within.

Your heart,

an ever-shifting cauldron

of movement and yearning,

calls you home

in every moment.

If only you will be still, and listen.

Can you hear the fluttering of its wings?