The Quest for Authenticity

Black/White Heart 2011

One day several years ago, I opened a door and said to the Universe, “Hey, I’m ready to find whatever it is I’m seeking. I know it’s there, just show me how…”  That simple request started my life in a new direction that has become an amazingly rich adventure. Once I made that commitment, everything that might have kept me from moving my life forward came up and was in my face; and yet everything I needed to support me on my path also arose… teachers, friends, healers, opportunities, etc.

I’ve learned that this is how it works: once we make the commitment to “seek,” everything that is in our way comes forth for clearing so we can move beyond it. And, everything we need to support us on the journey also comes forth. There’s no turning back; we have no choice but to keep going. Well, that’s not exactly true. We always have choice. The thing is, if we stop, it’s like standing in the middle of the fires of change. And if we go back, we return to a life of self-denial and lies, only they feel bigger now because we know what we want. And that truth continues to eat away at us. In the silent spaces of our minds, we cry out and die a little bit more each day, not knowing how to get from where we are to where we want to go. All our energy gets used up in denying the truth as we do our best to pretend we’re happy, which isn’t a complete lie yet it’s also not the whole truth. For if it were, we wouldn’t be seeking in the first place.

We open that door because there’s a part of us that knows the truth. There’s a part of us that wants so desperately to remember who we are. There’s a call inside our hearts that says, “Hey, wake up! Remember!” We open that door – we make that commitment – because there’s a part of us that does remember, and the rest of us seeks the beauty, power and peace that is held in that part. We recognize that there’s more to our selves and our lives than we’ve been aware of, told or shown. And so we become seekers of the truth, like archeologists exploring the hidden world and history of our inner being, so we can gain a clearer understanding of the material remains in our outer lives.

As we align ourselves, our intention and our energy with this path, things begin to move and shift. We arrive at new levels of awareness, and dormant parts of ourselves begin to stir and awaken. It’s like taking a flashlight to the dark corners of a room we’ve lived in for years, but never fully explored. Suddenly, the light shines on things we had no idea were there, and we see them for the first time, and everything we thought we knew about that room and our life in it changes.

This is where the magic begins! Once we have a more clear perspective on our place in the world, we can navigate beyond the obstacles that keep us bound. We can dismantle the parts of our lives that aren't serving us and bring in new parts that do. And we can reclaim our personal power to inspire and fuel our future vision. I call this the spiritual quest for authenticity.
As the Fall season comes to a close, I realize that I have made this quest. The emptiness and disillusionment I felt years ago in my life as I began my quest have long since vanished. I have stepped firmly into my authenticity and I express my truth in the world as best as I can every day.

The approaching Winter Solstice marks our movement out of the longest, coldest and darkest nights of the year and into growing days. This seasonal shift is not only about the returning of the daylight but it is also about reconnecting with our own inner light - our essence. This year as I enjoy the colorful Christmas lights all around me, I celebrate that I am doing my best to express my own bright light - my authenticity - in the world. Living from my authenticity is a gift that I cherish and don't take lightly. It's a "Merry Christmas to me!" 

May your own bright light shine out into the world, a gift for all to receive.

[Adapted from the book The Six Sacred Gifts: A little book of wisdom for fellow seekers, which will be released in March 2012 as a part of Spirit Paths™: The Quest for Authenticity, a 6-month Circle I am co-facilitating with Gerry Starnes. This Circle is designed to support seekers along their spiritual journey and into a new place of authentic being in the world. It is an intensive and experiential journey of contemporary shamanic wisdom for living authentically. For more details, go to http://www.shamanicpassages.com/SpiritPaths/.]

A Bucket Full of Hope

I spent the last weekend volunteering at a local hospice event for adults who had lost a beloved - a parent, a spouse, a child or grandchild, a sibling... This was the parent camp. Some of their children were at a nearby location having the kids camp. Two camps, one common purpose, and lots and lots of healing.

What touched me most deeply was watching the transformation of these adults from closed, sad, pained strangers to open, laughing, relaxed friends who were willing to give life another chance. Yes, they had all experienced heart-breaking loss in their lives, yet here they were - courageously allowing themselves to share, connect and grieve together - some of them for the first time.

My role was to help them settle in and put their bags down (yes, they stayed the night in bunk rooms), to offer support to anyone who wanted it, to hold space for them as they moved through their activities, and to share with them during the meetings.

There are so many unanswered questions to this journey, and so many unresolved feelings that arise for those walking it. The hardest parts were the "What if..." and "If I had only..." and "If I just hadn't...." things that arose. Such regrets create deep pain in the Human heart, and yet, we can never know how or when death will happen; we only know that for all of us, it will.

I watched these beautiful parents reach out to each other in understanding and compassion. I saw them openly witness each others anguish. I cried as they held each other through their distress. And I laughed as they hugged each other goodbye with gratitude and love.

There are no words for what I felt when I left them on Sunday. I believe that this was one of the most touching life experiences I've ever had. I can't wait for next year's camp!

[My deepest gratitude to Hope Hospice, a non-profit organization based in New Braunfels, TX, for the opportunity to be a part of such a beautiful and loving experience: 1-800-499-7501. For more information and support through loss and grief, contact your local hospice services, or check out my "Ask Dr. Z" article series on how to support yourself and children through a death by clicking here.]

A Renewal of spirit

Light Heart: 2011

This past month I did something I've never done before: I reached out to my community for financial support. I hadn't intended to, but an opportunity arose that I felt compelled to act on. It was one of those opportunities that may only arise once in a lifetime. Rather than risk missing it, I chose - not just to step out of my comfort zone but to step into my vision of community - and ask for help.

To understand how difficult this was for me, I'll share that not too many years ago I nearly killed myself during an illness because I "did not want to bother anyone." I was too dizzy and weak to do anything but crawl on my hands and knees to get to the toilet, and food was out of the question. My head felt as though it might burst with pain and pressure. I was severely dehydrated.

When help showed up at my house one late night out of worry and fear for my welfare a week later, I was so out of my head with fever and illness that I got startled; and out of my fear, I got angry and yelled at them to leave. They did, but came back the next day and took me to a doctor.

After weeks of tests, no one could identify what was wrong with me. Two rounds of antibiotics later, I began to improve so they let me stay home rather than sending me to a hospital. My Mom came to stay with me to help with my recovery, after my sister called and told her that something was wrong because I wasn't making any sense on the phone. It was a very humbling experience and one that I learned a great deal from.

Months later as I returned to myself, I realized how traumatic that experience felt to me; I'd just been too out of my head to notice it. If my friends had not stopped by, I might have died right there in my own home, for no good reason other than my own internal obstacles. I promised myself I would not do anything like that again to myself, and that I would heal whatever it was in me that kept me from asking for help even in such desperate circumstances. 

Humble Woman: Paris 2004

And so, here is the result of that healing journey. This month I stepped beyond old stories and wounding, beyond embarrassment and shame, beyond fear and excuses, choosing instead to step into a vision of community that I hold - one that is supportive, loving, intimate and authentic - in which we are all held as family. And it's been absolutely beautiful.

Not only has my community shown up to offer financial support, but they have done so with complete joy and gratitude in their hearts. They hold the vision for my expansion just as brightly as I do. They honor my journey just as deeply as I do. They are as happy as I am about this opportunity. The blessings of joy and fullness on this adventure continue to show up in my email and snail mail boxes. And every one of them is sent with pure love and a "Thank you!" to me for the opportunity to help...

My heart is bursting!! This is the kind of community I want to live in. This is the vision of community that I hold. And through this simple, heartfelt request, I've gotten to feel it and watch it in action. And it is SO humbling and wonderful. It has renewed my spirit in the community of Humankind.

And my friends, this is what it's all about: boundary-free, heart-felt love, love love just because you can...

PS: The request was for blessings and/or financial help for Kundalini Yoga Teacher Training so I can take advantage of a scholarship I was awarded and get officially certified. I think after 12 years of practicing and 4 years of teaching, it's time :) With all the loving support from my community, the rather large investment fairly quickly went from impossible to affordable. Thank You Community from the bottom of my heart!

The Angel Speaks

Pere-Lachaise Cemetery outside of Paris, France.
Photo copyright 2004, Cecilia Zuniga

On my way home from a shamanic death ritual in Austin tonight, the car in front of me hit a deer. And just like that, the deer's life ended. It broke my heart. I spent the rest of my drive home praying for and sending blessings to the deer (and the driver).

I thought how cruel it is that we drive these cars that can end a life in an instant. And yet I can't say that it was a cruel act by the Angel of Death; She is simply sharing her gift of completion.

I also thought of a friend of mine who recently died in much the same way - hit by a cement truck while driving down the road and killed in an instant. I bet neither Being knew as they made their way onward that each moment was leading to their very last here. I doubt they were thinking things like "Gee, I'm going to die today" or "This is the last time I'll see this place" or "I will never be here again."

Most of us don't think about such things as we live our lives. In recent years though, I have begun to think such things. I've learned through the ritual deaths I've participated in that any moment could be my last, and as Stephen Levine says, "almost no one knows the day on which the last year begins." Or the morning on which our last day begins...

Even though I don't know when my last year here starts (or started), I can live each day with an awareness that any moment of my life might be my last: my last breath, my last kiss, my last meal, my last visit, my last words, my last dance... When held in that light, every instant of life becomes precious.

That is the gift of the Angel of Death: a deep awareness that every moment is precious. What better reason is there for living it all in love... right now?

An Angel Walks Among Us

I woke up yesterday morning with death on my mind. In my spiritual circle Thursday night, we talked about an upcoming shamanic death ritual we are doing today. I will die... again. I think this will be my 6th or 7th time to die a ritual death. Some of these rituals have lasted a few hours, others a day, and others a year. In fact, the seed of this blog was born out of a year-long "Death Walk" I participated in from November 2009 to November 2010. This year, I am facilitating a year-long journey for others (my Awaken Circle) because the experience had such a profound impact on me.

We've all heard sayings such as "Death walks beside you" and "Death is always standing behind your left shoulder" or "Death is just over your shoulder" and  "Death is always knocking on your door." Have you  ever paused to really feel into what that means? Most of us, because of our social training to fear or resist death, don't give death much attention. But there's a tremendous opportunity here...

In many ancient spiritual teachings, death is held as an important adviser. In the Toltec tradition of the Eagle Knight lineage, we refer to it as The Angel of Death yet s/he goes by many names across cultures (e.g., Kali, Ganesha, Hunhau, Uacmitun Ahau, Kisin, Mictlantecuhtli, Hades, Hecate, Pluto, Hel, Ereshkigal, Cerridwen, Arawn, Skatha, Yen-Wang-Yeh, Ani-lbo, Anubis). You can find mythological or spiritual references to the keeper or guardian of death or the Underworld in just about every culture in the world.

My view of the Angel of Death is that she greets us with the gift of freedom from whatever binds our hearts. She bears the completion of one cycle and yet the beginning of something new. Without this completion, we would remain buried beneath the weight of our own hearts; we would never have the spaciousness to invite healing, change or growth into our lives.

The Angel of Death walks with clear steps and a keen eye. As She approaches, things change. She sees the obstacles to the blossoming of unconditional love in our hearts and does what's necessary to remove them. The gift of Her touch brings acute presence: suddenly nothing matters but the truth. She wields destruction for the sake of construction. It may mean a physical death yet it may also mean a symbolic death.

There's something healing and opening that emerges through the eyes of death. If you've ever sat with the dying, you know that the only thing of importance to them is the clarity of their own heart. I've heard stories about people blurting out their heaviest heart-burdens in the moments of their last breath, revealing family secrets that had been hidden for generations.

This is the gift of the Angel of Death; she offers the soul an invitation to surrender it's burdens and open into the wellspring of freedom born of a clear and unobstructed heart. From this view, nothing matters in life or death except that truth - the truth of a heart broken open. And in the spaciousness of such a heart, only love exists.

For all the human struggles I participate in, for all my searching and clearing and healing around love, there is always more deepening and opening to do. As I approach another opportunity to surrender what obstructs my heart - to hand it willingly over to the Angel of Death so that I can open more deeply into love - I find myself feeling calm and at peace inside. And so I prepare for yet another death of who I am to something new and (hopefully) more purely aligned with my spiritual intentions.

"Today is a good day to die for all the things of my life are present." I've written of this Native American saying before.  This is the state I want to be in when I die, when my body takes its last gasp of air and then releases it with a sigh of surrender. And in that sigh I want to feel the full freedom that comes with a completely clear and open heart, one without obscurations in which everything - all the baggage of my life - has been cleaned up and brought into a present state of love.

Sunrise at Rockport, TX.
Photo copyright 2006: Cecilia Zuniga

So today I do my best to attend to and clean up any areas of heaviness in my life. I heal what needs to be healed, speak what needs to be spoken, request what needs to be requested and I forgive what needs to be forgiven. I choose love and connection over being right and separate. It's not an easy way to live; it takes all the courage and willingness I can muster. It means risking relationships and identities and habits. It means letting go of the old and familiar for the new and unfamiliar. It means taking a radically honest look at myself and claiming responsibility for who I've been, who I am and who I want to become. Sometimes I'm not ready to stand in the blurry and oftentimes painful and muddy lines of personal truth, to risk what I know for the unknown. Yet it is as authentic a life as I can manage right now.

Some days, such as during the past two weeks, I question what's happening. When another layer of mud surfaces from the depths of my being for healing and clearing, I question my integrity. Questioning is a natural part of this journey. It helps me discern what is mine to clean up and what is someone else's. Yet it must be done with radical honesty and heart-centered action. Otherwise, it serves little. This process of questioning helps me return to a clear sense of my own integrity so that I can clean up what needs cleaning, take responsibility for what is mine, and honor my truth in the moment, despite the feelings or reactions of others.

Through this process I've learned that what is true for me requires no defense or explanation; it is simply my truth, whether others understand it or agree with it or not. Expressing my truth does not require understanding or agreement from others or that they change their behavior based on how I experience a situation. And this is true for them as well: I don't have to understand or agree with their views or change my behavior to acknowledge what feels true for them. The best I can do for each of us is listen deeply, honor the feelings that arise, keep my heart open, allow spaciousness for what's next and keep love present through any disagreements.

Limestone heart.
Photo copyright 2007: Cecilia Zuniga

I've learned over the past several years of exploring dying and death more intimately that there is a pre-death process that supports me in preparing for the transition from old to new: whatever obstacles are currently blocking the open flow of love in my heart will be flung into my full vision! Something always happens to enable me to see clearly where my own blocks to love are and where the next step in my healing work rests so that I can go about the business of doing it.

At the time of my own point of rememberance - that moment in death when I suddenly reconnect with my true, pure nature beyond the physical limitations of this body - I want to melt easily and gently into freedom. And so tonight I die knowing that I've done my best to keep learning about and opening to love in all of its expressions; knowing that I am, step by step, killing off love's obstacles and gently growing a deeply faithful, trusting and open heart.

As Stephen Levine so beautifully reflects in his book A Year To Live, I consciously cultivate a heart that cannot be distracted even by death. This is my chosen mission this year as I make my way through Adventures Of A Year To Love.

Don't Take It Personally

We are such ego-driven creatures. We take so many things personally when really, nothing is about us except our own experiences. This is one of the main teachings in don Miguel Ruiz's beautiful spiritual book The Four Agreements: don't take anything personally. The reason for this is that every Human Being on this planet perceives the world in their own unique way, through their own unique filters, based on their own unique perceptions, experiences, agreements and beliefs.

don Miguel Ruiz calls the agreements and beliefs we hold in our unconscious mind our personal Book of Law. This Book of Law is what our brain uses to dictate our behavior based on past experiences. It contains all the rules we have learned to live by - those that we created ourselves and those that were passed down to us through the adults in our lives. It says things like "To be loved I must be good" and "To be safe I must not have fun" and "If I do the wrong thing I will be punished" and "Other people's perceptions of me matter."

These rules are things we learn as children and then carry forward into our adulthood. They rest in the unconscious part of our Being and we live by them whether they continue to apply or not as we grow up. Since we are unaware of them, we can't know if they still apply or feel true for us as adults unless something brings them to our attention. And the truth is, unless they are brought to our attention by some kind of event, we don't care if they apply or not because we don't even know they exist! But they are our unconscious Book of Law and we follow our Book!

Usually it is when something happens that makes us question some part of our lives that we begin to look at the things in our Book of Law and decide if we still believe them, agree with them, and want to keep living by them or not. This is no easy task. Questioning the things we've lived by since we were a youngster takes courage. The things in our Book have been the foundation of our life. To question them means questioning our fundamental beliefs and agreements about life in general and how to survive it. This touches into a deep, primal part of our Being.

When we take someone else personally, it's because some part of us believes them or fears that they may be right about us. We fear that others will discover just how awful of a person we really are and will abandon us. We fear we won't be loved or that we are too broken to be saved. We fear the deepest, darkest parts of ourselves that we try to hide from the world will be revealed... and then, we will die a lonely death. This may sound extreme, yet it is surprising what hides beneath our brave and strong and righteous masks when we dig down really, really deep.

I first began to explore my personal Book of Law following a difficult and painful breakup several years ago. The ending of that relationship brought what was left of my crumbling life down. It seems that for me, my life had to disintegrate before my eyes for me to take a closer and deeper look at what I had created of it. And when I looked, I was shocked to discover that the life I'd worked so hard and followed all the rules to create had simply fallen apart around me, leaving me with nothing but my own wounded heart.

 I was even more shocked to discover that the old life I'd created hadn't really felt the way I'd intended it to, even with check marks by all the right rules in my Book of Law. I'd played by the rules my whole life - graduated from high school, worked hard, gone to college and graduate school, gotten a Ph.D. and started a career. I invested my energy into a professional job and my heart into an intimate relationship with a person I loved deeply. I built my life around my career and my partner.

One day I woke up in a cloud of heaviness. I dreaded going to work; my job was a nightmare. I dreaded going home; my partnership was a vacuum. Neither was inspiring or fulfilling despite my greatest efforts. In those days I described myself as the walking dead. I knew there must be more to life but I didn't know how to get it.

When it all came crumbling down in unexpected and dramatic ways, I was forced to take a radically honest look at my life and what I had created of it. The bottom line: I had not honored myself in my own life. I had listened to and done all the things that others thought I should do, the ways they thought I should do them, and had slowly but surely abandoned myself to the approval and love of others.

I learned a huge lesson about love from that: Loving others from a place of emptiness is not really love; it's need. And when we believe we are so empty within ourselves that we need the love of another to feel full and whole, we become willing to surrender ourselves to get their love. And when we surrender ourselves for love, eventually we lose ourselves to it - like a drug addict seeking out their next fix.

Today I believe (and it is just that - my belief) that we are all whole and divine Beings; we just forget who we are. We get wounded in life and we forget our true, loving and joyous natures. We forget that as children of a Divine Source, however you label that Source - as God, Great Spirit, Allah, Buddha, Creator, etc. - we are divine and whole and beautiful just as we are. We don't need anything from anyone else to be whole; we are already whole. We just have to remember that we are whole.

I like to say that we are all perfectly imperfect. And like drops of water in a divine ocean, we cannot separate ourselves from our divinity. We may forget our divinity, yet we cannot separate ourselves from it any more than we can separate the blood of our ancestors out of our bodies. We can turn our minds away from it and believe that we are somehow separate from the Divine and less than whole just as we are, but that is what spiritual mentor Marianne Williamson calls "error thinking." Forgetting who we are is not a condition; it's a mental mistake.

This past week I've been focusing on the old "don't take it personally" teaching. Today I send gratitude and love out to those who questioned my choices over the years because it gave me the space to deepen my connection to and trust in something bigger than me. Today I have faith in and trust that things unfold and evolve in a perfect way for the highest healing and good of all Beings, even those events that are scary, painful or uncomfortable to our human be-ing.

Today, this belief is in my Book of Law. It doesn't mean that it's true for everyone or even that it will be true for me forever; it only means that it's true for me today because I choose to believe it. No one has to agree with me for it to be true for me; it is true for me because I believe it to be true.

And as it's true for me, I find both Grace and Love interwoven in the dramas of my silly little life.

The Garden of Life

 I've always wanted to be a gardener, mostly because I love the beauty and energy of the plants with their varied colors, shapes, textures and vibrations. On a deeper level, I realize it's because I like nourishing things into creation. Whether it's a pastry, a book or a plant doesn't matter. There's something fulfilling about starting with a few separate ingredients and mixing them together into a whole new thing that has its own purpose, design, flavor and energy. There's something magical about the alchemy of this mixing process and how it generates a new expression of being that wasn't there in the separate ingredients.

I've never had a garden of my own before. When I was a child, my parents grew strawberries, bell and chili peppers, green beans and tomatoes in a small flower bed but I've never had a whole space dedicated to a garden. It feels good to have one now, with fencing high enough to keep the local deer out. Yesterday I planted some onions, potatoes and a tomato plant in my garden. It may not look like much, but it is fabulous to me!

Each step of the way toward creating this garden has been exciting: from getting the fencing up, to gathering the dirt, to starting a compost pile, to creating a dedicated compost pile, to building the beds, to adding the worms, to mixing in fortified soil to our dirt... and finally to planting a few things.

I don't really know how to garden. I only know that I love playing in the dirt and nourishing things into bloom and fullness. I love seeing a bud grow and open into a beautiful flower. I love seeing a tiny sprout evolve into a vibrant plant. I love watching a blossom turn into a piece of fruit. I love lifting a plant from the soil and finding food down there. It's like magic!

Gardens are great metaphors for life. We nourish what we want to grow; we give it our attention and our love. Sometimes things happen and we watch what we've given our nourishment, attention and love to die before it reaches its full expression. We can't stop it or change it; it just dies. And sometimes we get to witness the full movement of what we nourish all the way to it's complete expression, it's last breath, and then it dies.

Either way - whether a thing is here only a moment or a lifetime - we get to experience its unique beauty and expression. It is sacred life force energy moving through space and time in a way we can't control. But we can give it our nourishment, attention and love if we choose to. And we can open to the full experience of it - whatever it is - if we choose to.

This year, I want to; I choose to. Each day offers me another opportunity to build and create the garden of my life.  

What will it be? What will I plant? How big and full will it get? What will die young and what will reach its complete expression? What will I nourish, give my attention to, and share my love with? What will I notice and what will I miss? How will I honor this garden of my life?

"Can I love all that is in my life ~ all that comes and goes ~ wholly and unconditionally, just like the plants in my garden?"

Touched By Grace

On Saturday, I met a beautiful angel. I didn't catch her name because in looking at her, to name her seemed inappropriate for such an ethereal Being. To "name" her seemed somehow dishonoring of her magnificence.

I met her in a store. She was in the arms of her Nanny, a very loving woman who was enjoying this bright Being as much as the rest of us were. This angel looked at me with her clear blue eyes and in them I saw looking back at me... well, I saw me, in a way that I never have before: the undiluted, essential me. I could tell it was me because I felt it to the heart of my Being.

I looked back at her, feeling a subtle urge to bow my recognition, respect and gratitude to her. The more I looked at her, the more I felt something; the more I felt something, the harder it was to identify. Then it came to me: purity. This angel was the purest, most bright light I've ever encountered in this physical world. She was as close to Divine Source energy as I've ever gotten, and in her eyes, the truth was radiating out. My encounter with her touched me deeply, even if only for  a few moments through her eyes. (She looked a lot like this picture, although this is not her.)

 It was pure, unadulterated love that she radiated and that touched me so deeply. There was nothing whatsoever attached to her gaze; just pure and simple light and love radiating out - joyful and present. It was the kind of love that I aspire to achieve this year through my A Year To Love journey. Can I? Will I ever reach that place of innocence to the point of holding only light, love and joyful presence?

Ahhhhh. My teachers come in interesting packages these days and I am grateful to all of them :)

Sacred Intent for the New Year

We're four days into the new year and folks are all about new year's resolutions. Personally, I turned in my resolutions years ago for intentions. My dictionary says that resolution is "boldness and firmness of purpose" while intention is  "an aim or purpose." Call it semantics if you want, but it feels like a softer, gentler, more focused way to hold my energy for the year.

When we set intentions, we are putting things into motion on an energetic level. This is why it is so important to hold intentions in a sacred way. They are powerful acts of creation. When we set an intent, we are, in fact, creating a movement of energy in the infinite field of energy that we live in. We are asking for something new and specific to arise, and we are saying no to what no longer serves us. This is a sacred act not to be taken lightly. In taking such things lightly, we risk creating chaos in our lives.

This is a great time to take stock of our past resolutions or intentions, to choose again what we want to carry forward and what we want to let go of, and then to consciously cut from what we're leaving behind. Consciously cutting from what we no longer want in life is as important as choosing what we want. It frees up the energy we had invested in the old thing to feed the new thing we want today.

 We are allowed to change our minds and change our direction; things change all the time. To ignore the changes means we are not present with what is. We can drag all the old stuff forward if we want, but all it does is weigh us down, slow our movement and add confusion to our journey. Now is the perfect time to review our old intentions and revise them, updating them to the newest version of who we are.

The funny thing about intentions is that they are a two-part process: we have them, we hold them with 100% commitment and yet we surrender them at the same time. Well, we don't really surrender them; we surrender how we think they should look. Usually when we set an intent, our mind butts in and tells us how it should look when the intent is met - how we will know we've succeeded. But the reality is that our mind doesn't see past our nose, so the picture it gives us is very limited and limiting. The mind wants us to believe that what we want is impossible or unobtainable for whatever reasons it conjures up. If we let it, it can stop us in our tracks...

That's why it's important to let go of the image the mind creates as the measure of whether or not we've been successful in our intentions. It's about releasing attachment to the outcome and opening up to the infinite possibilities. The feeling state of what we want to achieve seeds the Universe with what we are asking for; it's the vibration that the Universe responds to. So we let go of the how ("How will this happen? How will this look? How is this possible?") and focus our energy on the what. What is it that we want to feel when we meet our intent?

This is a great year to open up to the infinite possibilities surrounding our intents and invite the Universe to be creative in supporting their expression in our lives. We must open the eyes of our hearts to see the possibilities most clearly. They may not look at all like our mind imagines them, but that doesn't mean they didn't show up. If we limit our view to that of our mind and to what it thinks things are supposed to look like or how they're supposed to happen, we might easily miss what it is when it actually shows up!

I am reminded of how powerful it is to celebrate each intent and hold gratitude for each step we make toward it. Even the ones we let go of and cut from are important markers along our journey. What we don't choose is just as significant as what we do choose. Each choice is an expression of our being; each thing we accept or reject is a reflection of who we are in this moment. Take nothing for granted.

It's easy to fall into the trap of judging ourselves for not meeting our new year intentions. Be aware of this trap! Instead of judging yourself this year, take time to reflect on and decide if each intent you set is really what you want, and then celebrate your freedom to choose anew as you move your life forward.

Happy New Year, my friends. May you be inspired by the infinite possibilities of life.

"Uh-Oh..."

There's a well-known spiritual teaching that basically says "When you set an intent, every obstacle that might keep you from reaching it shows up to be cleared..." Although I'm very aware of this teaching within the context of my spiritual journey, I admit that I didn't consider it when I stepped onto this year-long commitment to walk through A Year To Love. Somehow I was holding this piece of my journey as separate from the rest.

It took less than a week for the obstacles to begin showing up here, and now I'm waiting for the other half of this teaching to appear as well, which says "...and so do all the supports you need to move past them."

It is December 3rd and I am a month into this journey. I have spent this first month acutely aware of coming face to face with some unpleasant obstacles that I thought were long gone from my being. Yet here they are, poking their little heads about to see what's going on and apparently, making a ruckus so I'll be sure to notice them... as if the discomfort I feel in their wake is not obvious enough...

"Do you REALLY want to live from a place of unconditional love? Well, then clean this little icky obstacle up, Honey." 

EVERYTHING that will keep me from truly living A Year To Love is presenting itself for healing and clearing. Suddenly this adventure feels really, really BIG!

You Don't Need A Shirt To Have A Button

 You know, I'm not perfect; no one is. As I like to say, "We are all perfectly imperfect!" But I do my best to put the highest vibration I can into the world. So I have a bit of heaviness in my heart today as I reflect on places during the past few days where I didn't meet up to my own expectation.

There were a couple of places where I took someone's reactions personally. The old button of "No matter what I do or how hard I try, it's not good enough..." got pushed and I went into my own reactions of feeling frustrated or even angry, small and unworthy. Right beneath that button is "... and something bad is going to happen." Then I feel hopeless and victimized. This is a very old emotional "knot" for me and I've worked hard to unweave the threads that keep it in place. Yet if there's one thing that can knock me off balance, that's the one. When this button gets pushed, I might as well be about 5 years old - a small, vulnerable child.

I "watched" myself slip into this pattern yet could not stop the emotions that arose, so I went fully into them. This is a trick I learned through my spiritual studies with the Austin Toltec Center. There's an emotional healing practice of going fully into the experience of emotions that arise rather then pushing against them or pushing them away. This allows the energy behind them to move through the body rather than being stored or getting stuck in the body.

This doesn't mean "go emote all over someone!" It means find some private space to release the emotional energy that arose in me. My emotions arise, exist and dissolve away again within me, not outside of me. They don't belong to anyone else; they belong to me. I am having the reaction; it's happening inside of me and has nothing to do with anyone else really, but that's an entirely different blog... It does have to do with my emotional wounding: my reactions show me where I still have healing and clean up to do within my own being.

When I stepped fully into my reaction, I found myself wanting to isolate myself. That's what I used to do as a child when I felt threatened; I'd go hide in a closet or up in a tree, away from everyone. Now, rather than hiding, I "take space" to feel into what's going on inside of me and figure out what's mine and what's the other person's responsibility. This time, once I connected with the button that got pushed, I was able to do something specific to release the emotional energy from my body (another trick from the Austin Toltec Center), shift out of the reaction and gently get on with my life.

Sometimes that process takes me a few minutes; sometimes several hours. This one, because it's such a deep-seated button for me, took several hours but by the next day, I was feeling more like myself again. The gift is that each time it happens I unweave a bit more of the knot that keeps this button in place, and each time the reaction gets smaller and the shifting gets easier. And now, sometimes I have no reaction at all.

I'm realizing on a much deeper level that walking through this A Year To Love means that I am learning to love myself more fully; then, I can truly love everyone else more fully too...

Countdown

There are so many thoughts and sensations moving through my body these days as I approach the end of my "A Year To Live" adventure. Changing the death countdown from 10 to 9 today felt a bit like hitting the big red button for a shuttle lift-off. I could hear my own voice in my head saying with passion and maybe even excitement and a bit of anxiety: "Ten! Nine!..."

Last night I returned to my favorite labyrinth to walk it beneath the big bright moon. The sky was virtually clear all day and night until about 5 minutes before I walked when a thin cloud bank moved over it. It was interesting to see and feel the difference in the energy of this walk compared to the last. The last moon was bright and vibrant with energy and the contrast between the light and shadows was stark. This time, the moon was veiled and the light-shadow contrast was barely noticeable. The energy and the light was gentle and soft.

I felt my body relating to that shift. As I approach the end of this year, my own energy feels more gentle and soft. There is an urge to slow down, rest into what's here, and stop all the business so I can drop more deeply into connection with it all. It's an interesting contrast between the ending and a beginning. I feel the ending of this year approaching; I also feel the possibility of birth, newness and freshness on the other side of it. There's a sense of spaciousness hovering just beyond the surrender...

Yesterday a client struggled with whether or not her presence in life was helping or hurting the world; she questioned her own purpose for being here. I heard myself say: "There's no greater purpose or service to the Divine than raising our own vibration." This is a truth that I have come to hold. We spend so much time in our lives questioning our choices, our reasons for being here, our purpose. The answer is in the process of questioning...

What I believe is that we don't have to do anything special to make our journey here meaningful or purposeful; all we have to do is question. The questioning guides us to raise our own vibration. That is living a purposeful life.

Every day my question is: "How I can be of service today?" The rest of my day is spent paying attention to that - to what arises within that frame. It's a very simple question with no specific answer. And it unfolds in powerful and mysterious ways.

As I approach this death, I'm still asking that question every day: "How can I be of service today?" Maybe I already have...just by the asking.

Priscilla & The Way

Meet "Priscilla." Priscilla is a beautiful garden spider that set up house on the back  of my office wall outside. She has been there (to my noticing) for about a month. When I first saw her, she was big and vibrant, sitting in the center of a large, intricate web design. When I introduced myself to her, she shared that her name was "Priscilla," adding quite clearly that she was in no way prissy.

Beneath the roof above her was a large round egg sack. A few days later, a second egg sack appeared. I figure she must be pretty stout to create not one but two egg sacks... Priscilla stayed just below the sacks for weeks, diligently rebuilding her web whenever it got damaged. Then about a week ago she relocated herself around the corner of the building, leaving her egg sacks well sheltered and protected.

This week, I watched her slowly fade. Her body went from full and vibrant to shriveled, dull, and dark. Knowing that she was dying, I spoke to her daily, reassuring her that her egg sacks were healthy and safe, and that I would make sure they survived until birth.

Yesterday when I visited Priscilla, she looked and felt very weak in her web. An hour later, she abandoned her web for a single thread which she hoisted herself up onto. She clung there, weakly, for maybe half an hour until she dropped to the ground, nearly lifeless. I took the liberty of picking her up, showing her the safe, healthy egg sacks one last time, and placing her among flowers and greenery in my garden beneath my office window for her final rest.

Priscilla reminded me of the beauty and power of The Way. All things arise from the infinite field of energy, exist for a period of time, and then dissolve away again, having left something behind for those remaining. Although we grieve the surrendering, it is a gift and an integral part of the cycle of all things. Without the shedding of what's served it's purpose and expired, there would be no space or nourishment for the new to arise.

I am reminded of my own tiny deaths each day - the parts of me that I surrender for new parts to be born. From Priscilla's death will come hundreds of baby spiders! I am watching anxiously and excitedly for them to appear from their healthy egg sacks, and am wondering with as much excitement about what will arise in my own life from my upcoming death.

For in just 11 days, another cycle of my life will unfold: I will die and be reborn, free of what no longer serves my highest good and my ability to be of service to the Divine. This is the end of a conscious year of living and life - the end of my A Year To Live adventure. What is beyond it, I don't  know. That's the mystery of the other side: we don't know until we're there.

If you want to take a peek to the other side, consider joining me for a fun and full Dia de los Muertos workshop (http://www.myinnerscapes.com/workshops/) on November 29th, perfectly timed when the veils are thinnest. Learn about the special energy of Day of the Dead, glimpse into the other realm through a psychic medium, make objects for your own altar, and leave with a fun goodies bag to get you in the spirit.

Death is not our enemy but our ally. Celebrate The Way!

Moon Walk

Thursday night I walked my favorite labyrinth under the full moon. I've been visiting this particular labyrinth for maybe 12 years. The stones it is made up of are white and they glow in the moonlight, giving a magical feel to the place and space, especially on a clear full moon night.

As I enter my last month to live on this "A Year To Live" adventure, things are becoming extra poignant. Walking around the labyrinth between the darkened shadows cast by oak trees and the clear white light cast by Grandmother Moon, I experienced in a very concrete way how light exists within shadows and shadows exist within light. There is no separation; the two exist among each other in a beautiful balance of light and dark. Without both, who would really know either one?

I think my experience with this balance was in answer to an intent I sent out to Grandmother Moon before walking the labyrinth: "I ask for your support in releasing any and all attachment or resistance I have to the suffering of myself or anyone and anything else." While dancing among the light and the shadows cast by the trees and the moon, I realized - I felt - that it is all a perfect balance of energies and that both are necessary; both are a part of life and living. Without both, there would be no wholeness or balance.

Following the path to the center, there were moments when my shadow was cast directly in front of me - just like a person - a body double. I connected with this shadowy body double of me and held her as the residue of me that will remain in this physical plane after I'm dead. There she was, a mere shadow of what used to be me; a footprint; a reflection of my energy; neutral space where I once was; someone's fading memories. "How long will she remain?" I wondered, "How long will I be remembered and in what ways?"

I got to thinking about who I am, really. "Am I me or is that shadow the real me? Who is the me that people will remember? Who do I want them to remember and why? What am I leaving behind in my wake?" In one generation or less, any memory of me can be completely erased, my life here dissolved. Every adventure, every experience, every breath completely erased - my existence here forgotten, irrelevant history...

What I realized is that this journey is not about bringing all the things in my life to completion before I die - all the relationships, projects, paper work, teachings, etc. It is about bringing ME to completion before I die. "How much of what keeps me separate from love and divinity can I surrender and release before I die? Because what's left is the real me."

Yes: How much?

A Song For The Dying

These days I'm not sure what's related to what. Am I feeling physically tired and fatigued because of some nutritional or hormonal issue? Or because I'm busier with writing, teaching, and presenting? Or because I'm not sleeping very well? Or because my neck has been giving me grief so I haven't been able to exercise regularly? Or because of the energetic shifts that are happening Universally and within my being? Or because I'm coming close to my death date?


52 DAYS is a very short time that I have left in this experience. I'm contemplating the details of my death and how I want to approach it. Do I want to have a big celebration or a quiet, intimate exit? How important is it that I finalize all the details of how to handle my body? Who do I want to contact and in what way before I die? How do I really want to spend this last 52 days?

Of all the questions flowing through, the one arising the most is What is my death chant? Somehow this one piece feels most important to my process. I feel that it would be comforting to have one rehearsed and intimately familiar when I die. There is something beautiful about the vibration of sound in and out of the body...

Levine describes the healing/death chant as "a familiar path into the unfamiliar - a sacred path." He writes: "A death chant can act as a refuge from the storm, or an open window to the sun. Whatever the chant is it will bring us closer to grace, our original nature, the Kingdom of Heaven that is within."

For all of those that I have death-walked, I've sung to them for hours as they transitioned. It is a beautiful thing to watch the spirit of a being rest into the sounds of a song. I don't know if there will be anyone by my side singing to me when I die, but I can be; I can sing to myself!

Aside from all the formal details of what will happen to me and my stuff, the death chant feels most significant as a bridge between this physical life and the ethereal one that I'll be shifting into. This is the piece to focus on; this is the way forward. The rest feels like looking back, which I've spent lots of time doing already, cleaning up and preparing things.

Yes - my death chant is calling...

Sounds of Silence

In my last blog I said I'd done two things that were different and I wrote about the first: not doing. The second thing I did yesterday that I've never done before was to go into silence. I've done a couple of silent retreats for several days at a time where everyone is in silence, but I've never done silence out in the world just for the heck of it.

When I got up the first time this morning at 5:30 a.m., I forgot my intent to be in silence... So I spoke a few words to my sweetie before I remembered, who was puzzled when I suddenly stopped responding verbally ("What happened to your voice?"). When I gave the "locked lips" signal, it was clear; we'd talked about it the night before ("Ah - you're doing the silence thing."). I thought it was funny that my voice was missed because usually I believe I talk way too much!

After my sweetie left for the day I had the house to myself. I committed to staying offline, not texting, not watching TV and not listening to music too. I did have to respond to a couple of calls, texts and emails that required attention but after that I closed those doors. When I headed to Austin that afternoon for a meeting and to assist with a Toltec class, I gave myself permission to break the silence if necessary within those contexts. But for socializing, silence. 

Two weeks ago I made myself a sign to wear around my neck that says "I am in silence" in anticipation of whenever I decided to do this practice. It worked really well today. People are funny when they read it; they think they can't talk to you either!

But that's not true; I can listen really well and not talk at all. In fact, I can listen better. It's just that when you don't respond to people, they don't know what to do; they are looking for something habitual that's not present in your silence. It's a fabulous game!


I rediscovered yesterday that being in silence deepens your relationship to the whole world. Everything seems brighter, louder, sharper, clearer, more vibrant and more intense. A deeper level of presence, intimacy and love emerges naturally - at least on the silent end.

By midday I was prepared to stay in silence for at least four days; by nightfall, I knew it would be longer - indefinite. Why? Because of what's already emerging through the silence. I like it; no, I love it. Silence brings a freshness to things that gets overshadowed by talking.

But for me it's not just sounds necessarily; it's words. Words seem to create an artificial limitation to sound, giving it a feeling of sharpness or a quality of cutting through space in a disturbing way. But other sounds did not have this affect on me. Whereas I felt startled by my own words when I accidentally spoke a few to my dog this morning, I was not at all startled by the sound of the door closing, the A/C blowing, the chair squeaking or the birds chirping. And although I felt startled by the voices at meetings today, I was not at all startled by the night sounds on my drive home - the crickets, cars and wind... Interesting. This is something I will bring awareness to in my extended silence.

More on that later...