No one is spared…we are all going through something.
Something transitional. And for many of us, transcendent.
We may each feel the weight of our inner-being either still clutching or shedding a held-story (or both), while we witness the outer world compressing with real pain, burning. and suffering. And beneath the veneer of the parties and possessions, we may feel we are breaking in a moment, brought to our rubble. The image in the beautiful charcoal drawing from the’70s by my profoundly talented, rawly-expressed-through-her-art Mother, Arlene Offer Scult, may also speak to you in metaphorical remembrance for moments this year (right now?) you breathed deeply as best you could, stripped naked to your core, with the rubble in surround.
I’ve felt moments of all this in 2018 with a far too young passing of a dear heart in my life, family challenges where the most emotionally consistent element might have been my mother deep in her Alzheimer’s journey, personally playing games on both sides of doubt (absolute <> no doubt), releasing contracts that may be ancestorial, being slapped in the face with the real as fuck largely ignored planetary alarms that galvanizes my waking on-purpose work to go “beyond-sustainable” within a nature-is-inside-us message, all while navigating without a playbook of how to share this purpose-driven anthem (one golden thread) out to the world of cluttered minds.
It’s all inter-connected.
What have i experienced and discovered that perhaps may serve you? Four themes are woven below I see to be truth.
- Whenever we allow ourselves to be open to being open to our personal journey, when we individually make the choice to actually feel what we are feeling…
And in doing that…
We are the antithesis of breaking. We are opening. No longer white-knuckle clutching anything, we can star.
Because…
In that opening, there’s a release, a space and discernment and galvanized courage to do whatever it is we are intended to do within a frictionless flow.
Rubber bands are a motherfucker. Mine have snapped back to past patterns long enough to take a pound of flesh in my life.
As John Jay lyricized, “let go or be dragged.”
Every day, I’m choosing to let go to what has built up anew, self-surrendering into an avalon-called framework of self-surrender leadership.
For each of you seeing yourself in this proposal, I also submit you can trust this:
2. Your rawness and realness is a gift not just to your self but others you encounter who may also be feeling the bubbling volcano dangerously suppressed just below the surface, choked from them out of fear of bursting the illusionary social bubble of the greatest lie of them all — the perception of presenting perfection.
No matter how brightly we have shined, we all carry the wounding of being ridiculed, of being rejected, of being doubted, all these buried themes of shame by our greatest ally, our selves. What do i believe to be true? In my own experience, my surrender past shame and blame, and compassion in my pain, is the most powerful ownership I can embrace to live free. Perhaps you will also see this to be true. Because ….
3. I see this all the time in you: As we each choose to own our shit through acceptance, forgiveness, without self-judgment, AND without worry of what another sees and thinks about us (spoiler alert from Universe: that negativity is the suppressed and / or repressed autobiography of their own calcified lies), we each become elemental to catalyze and express all that we each are.
Which leads to this, an expression I channeled from witnessing our human experience may speak directly to you, as the fourth
4. “You are a miracle. Miracles are messy. Make a mess.”
Self-permission granted, by you.
So to all of you miracles who push past your resistance to fear to live in the courage of letting it all come, however messy it may be, without judgment, and then let it go, to breathe in the discerning gift of now, shredding the illusion of control we laughingly believe as we spin on this rock a million and eight miles an hour through space — thank you.
We are all mirrors for each other to see and to shed layers no longer serving, revealing the badass butterfly we each are. Thank you for listening, to your self. If this speaks to you, don’t like it. Be it. Fly like a motherfucker, YOU ARE THE BUTTERFLY this week and next, into 2019 and beyond.
I wrote this to myself. And one other. Perhaps that person is you. Share your selflove with someone you love. Or perhaps even a stranger that can use some love…
