It happens to us all. We're humming right along in life, things are a-okay, and then we wake up one day in an undeniable funk. We don't exactly remember why we feel so bad, but we know for sure that we don't feel good.
We find ourselves analyzing and judging it in our minds. We push against it, and before we know it we're owning it. We're talking about it on repeat with our friends and family, and it weaves itself right into the definition of who we are.
This morning was one of those rushed sort of scenes in our household. My daughter's breakfast was still only half-eaten when we were supposed to be walking out the door, I was slapping hummus on her sandwich while barking at her to EAT, and my husband was running upstairs to take his first call for the day.
Go. Go. Go.
It wasn't until I got home from dropping her at school that I caught myself in the frenzy of the energy. All at once I noticed that I felt anxious and clenched, and I found myself instinctively taking a deep breath and reminding myself to just be here right now in this moment.
"How do you know you're psychic? Is it something we can all be taught?"
I was curled up in my favorite glider in the living room just a few days ago, and my friend was across from me on my dark charcoal couch peering at me with inquisitive eyes. I had been telling her about my recent experience with a Peruvian shaman, and suddenly we were neck deep in a conversation about reading energy, talking to spirits and traveling through dimensions.
I can still smell the sweetly spicy scent of the florida water that floated through the air in a fine mist and coated my bare skin. The prickles of chilly dampness that landed on my face, stomach and back were like tiny kisses from the divine herself, and the whole scene felt as if it were happening in slow motion, a surreal blur of excitement and nerves as I silently wondered if I had indeed been "cleaned" and what tale my body would tell in the coming days.
For years now I've had the kind of experiences in meditation that make people either want to smack me or study me. Violent shaking, loud guttural noises and orgasmic energy movement are all par for the course these days, and I've stopped trying to diminish my experience for the sake of making other people feel better. What happens to me isn't normal.
A little over a year ago I traveled halfway around the globe to sit really still for 10 days. My older sister was leading a meditation retreat in Bali, and I had one of those deep, guttural knowings that my ass needed to be on that cushion sitting in that circle listening to what the Divine wanted me to know.
I have cocooned myself in my bedroom today.
Strewn around me is the evidence of a life lived somewhere between the concrete and the illusory. Piles of crystals of all textures and sheen litter my white down comforter. Decks upon decks of precariously-stacked oracle cards quietly hum with witchy words and haunting illustrations. Books by poets and mystics lay open and marked, giving away the roads into my soul.
I am hiding.
I feel so soft this morning. I am connected to myself and the whole in such a sweet, surrendered way.
I’ve been noticing lately how hard my edges get when I am entrenched in the trappings of the mind. When I am consumed with my body or with money or with whatever other distraction the ego tells me is truth. But when I pull myself away and I feel into the soft spaces of myself and the earth, I realize how false it all is.
I meditated on my connection with the earth this morning. I felt her beneath my feet, and I slipped into her steady warmth. I felt her core emanating vibrance and her waters fueling life. I felt a part of something bigger, and I released into it with relief.
I am a science experiment for the Divine. And it's showing up in the form of an alien presence in my meditations.
Today I went into meditation so clogged, so heavy. My stomach was upset from eating late, my body was tired from a weekend of too much sun and my muscles ached from two solid days in the car and a new bed.
But as I moved from the base of my spine up my body focusing the energy of expansiveness in each center of power in my body, I felt the clogs move. I observed my own resistance and with a trail of shaking and moaning that trembled throughout my cells, I experienced the clear sensation of a rag being dragged through the center channel of my being, scraping away the energetic goo that had formed inside my body.
I am feeling all the feelings this morning.
It's been this big storm swirling in my heart and gut for a few days, and I woke up this morning with it heavy and clunky inside my body. And just like that I felt more human than spirit, more matter than energy. And I'm openly and wildly resisting it. (Which usually doesn't help.)
I'm always a little miffed when my energy cycles back to the common. I have been entrenched in this healing work for many devoted years now, and I find myself believing that I should be immune to the "normal" spectrum of emotions. Why can't it just be rainbows and sunshine all the time?
Contrast. This is why.
The beings are back.
There was a time at the end of last year when they were there every morning. When I would close my eyes and breathe through my body, and just like that they would appear. Usually there were three of them, and they worked swiftly and thoroughly.
It was a strange feeling to know I was being tinkered with, to literally feel cords of energy being stretched outside my body, scrubbed at incredible speeds and then returned. To know that I was being watched and adjusted, tuned and programmed.
