On Showing up For Our Part

I was on the phone with a certain very wise sir the other day. We were talking about this and that when I cracked up open, telling him all my ferocious plans for the next year that really light my fire. What he responded I carry with me.

“Yes, well. The plans sound amazing, but then you have to let Life happen for you.”

His reply really provoked my deep, unsatiable need to control things. It provoked my once-knowledge that us humans only co-create this amazing, full, joyous, our life. We co-create it with all that is (which we are also part of). All that is can translate as god, Universe, Inteligence, Pachamama. And this highly compassionate Presence is aware of all our wishes and continues to readily fulfill them under the condition that it serves as the highest good for all. And ourselves as beings that dig to learn our lessons and deepen our connection to ourselves and life itself, practice acceptance along the way.

Acceptance of what is in trust that all is good, because life itself is good, and because we are deeply loved and guided, is the very essence of the female energy.

“And it harm none, so mote it be.”

Today seems like a good day to let go of my plans.

*Sure, I’ll have desires … but they won’t make me clench my teeth when not fulfilled the minute I want them too.

*And I’ll have wishes still … but never so big so as to prioritize them over my feelings or feelings of loved ones nearby.

*And I’ll continue to dream my dreams … ever so vast, ever so huge, ever so blue-skied and free.

I will show up for my part of the deal, and trust that the Universe will show up for its part of the deal, as it always does. I will rest assured that it will lead me – directly or over a few turns – to the Woman I Have Yet To Be.

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Renewal

This moon’s cycle is all about Renewal. Renewal of Trust.

Yesterday I spiralled down to the place where I felt hopeless. Is everything I used to believe a lie? Is this the kind of world where I want to raise my son? I went to bed with my mouth full of bitter ash and I had a hard time sleeping with all these pictures running through my mind. I didn’t want to feel what I felt but I knew I had to feel it. Once a month I allow myself to take the pains of the world as my own; I drown myself in the scars and sink deep … only to rise again stronger and lighter then before.

Today I rose again. I was blessed with time and space for me, as my boys were away. I was working on an inspiring project that I’m preparing for all of you, guys. Reminding myself of what I stand for, what I believe in, and what I praise and preach towards instilled in me a new sense of Trust. Trust into the World that I doubted yesterday. Trust into My World. This meant: no, I didn’t feel like cooking. I felt the way I feel every menstruation, and it is to spiral down, cuddle up and dig, dig. No, I didn’t feel like cooking, but instilled with the new sense of Trust into the world that wants to caress us … I knew we would be fed.

So I finished work, and went for a ten minute barefoot walk on my meadow before picking my boys. I followed the sun’s invitation and cuddled up with golden grass beneath the top of the hill, where the Bora couldn’t get me, and soaked in the last autumn rays … when my mother called. She seemed excited to invite us all for dinner because she was blessed with beginner’s luck to find three big mushrooms on a walk through the woods.

Mushroom pasta for dinner? Thank you, heavens, for guarding my descent to renew my Belief into the world.

I knew we would be fed. And I knew, even in the darkest hour, when I had trouble sleeping, that everything would be okay. Everything is always okay, if there’s Trust in the okay. It’s the same kind of Trust that the story will come; even if it is 8 p.m., when I slowly unplug myself from the World.

If I Trust that there is a story to come, the story will come.

If I Trust that everything will be okay, everything is always okay. The question is … are we okay with the okay, or are we aiming at something else?

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A Goodnight Story

I had very intense days lately. There has been a lot going on, a lot of jumping around, and a lot of communicating. While these are all the things that I love, I did feel like my creative juice was missing. I felt like there was nothing I could put out here, both because my mind was too tired to express itself, and because my spirit was too distraught to hear what I should write about tonight. Well, this was true until five minutes ago. As I was telling Svarun a goodnight story, I got a message to share. A reminder, more like. So my dear ones, since telling you to close your eyes and listen to the story would be absurd, rather keep your eyes open and keep on reading.

There once was a mother goat that had two little goats: billy goat named Rudi, who was three and a half, and a baby goat called Alice. One night after dinner, mother goat said to Rudi: “My dearest boy, it’s getting late. Go pee, put your pajamas on and brush your teeth.”

Rudi looked at his mother and nonchalantly said: “No.”

His mother looked at him, and said: “I beg your pardon?” Rudi repeated: “No, I won’t.”

His mother looked at him and said nothing, but took Alice into her arms and started breastfeeding her, while Rudi went to play with his Lego’s.

After a few minutes, mother goat said again: “Rudi, it’s time you went to bed. Go pee, put on your pajamas, brush your teeth and go to bed.”

Rudi didn’t even look at his mother, but said: “No.”

His mother looked at him, and said: “I beg your pardon?” Rudi told her again: “No, I won’t.”

His mother looked at him and said nothing, but continued to breastfeed his little sister. At some point, Rudi asked his mother: “Mommy, can you give me some water?”

Rudi’s mother said: “No, I can’t.” Rudi didn’t like her answer, so he got a bit angry. He stood up fiery and started marching towards the kitchen, when he stepped on a Lego. Now, anybody who ever stepped on a Lego knows it’s no fun. But Rudi’s anger made his step a bit too heavy and the accident much more painful. Rudi shrieked, crashed down on the floor and started crying over his accident.

He said: “Mommy, come help me. I’m hurting.” But his mother said: “No, I won’t.”

Rudi cried: “Why won’t you help me? Don’t you love me?” His mother replied: “My dear Rudi. Why didn’t you do the things I asked you to? Don’t you love me?” Rudi said nothing.

His mother kneeled to him and in the most compassionate way said: “My dear, don’t you know that everything I tell you to do is for your own good? If you did what I told you, the accident wouldn’t even happen, because you would be lying in bed by now, where there are no Lego’s to step on. What I’m here for is to protect you and what you are here for is to learn to trust me.”

I went on to tell the story until the final hug and kiss, but I’m stopping here now. I feel that in a lot of ways, we are all like billy goat Rudi, while the Universe is the mother goat. All of us are constantly given gentle guidance from the Universe in form of feelings, the sequences of angelic numbers, the songs we hear on the radio, our “mistakes”. The answers are given before we ask, but do we listen? Are we willing to receive and trust?

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