Category: Reflections

This unconscious weight I carry, this unconscious burden, complex, neurosis, whatever it might be called… this heavy uneasiness of being and breathing, blocking the longing of my heart, is slowly becoming visible. It’s slowly lighting up the parts that were ignored for too long.

I am not afraid this time, because I am tired. Tiredness always wins the battle, and probably will win the war too. Tiredness leads me personally to surrender. It has always been my last resting place before letting go.

The fire starts with anger, with a hidden force I never thought possible in me, a frustration and rage that moves me into actions and reactions, into movement, ignoring the still, quiet nature of my pain underneath it all.

I need to explode so that after the fires have been put out, I can cover my grieving soul with the ashes of my experience.

Then, I rest in the solitude that sadness brings me, washing away with its rivers of tears the projected passions I had unleashed. In that dark void of sadness I find the quiet truth.

That I am tired, nothing else.

Tired of this game I play with myself. Tired of ignoring Her, my Soul, who always waits patiently for my embrace. In this endless dance I am still learning; the embrace of my inner world, and the reality of an outside world that crumbles around me. And sustaining it all is my Soul, and the Soul of the World. 

Art by me

There is a deeper sense of gratitude when i feel there is an ending… a limit, a change, a transformation… a beginning really.

For me, gratitude stems from the deeper sense that All That Is, is ephemeral, and in its waning and waxing eternally, is constantly dying.

Death has never been something to fear for me. It is the not knowing how to live that creates the immeasurable suffering on many planes. How to live with the Unknown, how to live with loss, how to grieve the transformation of others that are out of our control. If even we ourselves are out of our control… We…just Are.

It doesn’t work the way I thought I was taught. Be a good girl and good things happen. Even if that voice was an illusion of my own hearing, it had its part and purpose. But being good doesn’t change the fact that suffering is inherent in a dual existence. What does it mean anyway? Everything is good or bad always from a different perspective. There is that pain of sustaining the polarities until the explosion bursts open a heart that thought it couldn’t love anymore. But the only thing it has ever done and will do is love.

Gratitude to endings and death and renewal of a world lost in an imaginal concoction that just needed that magical last touch. To be seen. To be heard. And just like that, after the magic word has been uttered and the preconceptions are left behind,    what once was just a dream becomes truly real… at last…

Photo by me in Tenerife

I walk around the garden and I feel life around me blooming. I have a special connection to nature that is different to my other over-intellectualised passions.

It’s in my own essence to want to know everything, an eternal seeker, of truth and beauty above all.

But nature… my curiosity and attraction for it is fueled from a place below, from an unknown known that speaks the voice of instinct and intuition. The witch’s voice deep within me, the potion medicine maker in my heart.

I walk around the garden and I feel a whisper in the back of my neck, I turn around and I can instantly see between the weeds, or hidden away, a new flower, a new fruit, a bee as messenger of the Goddess speaking to me in their own language… I feel where I need to plant what, I feel what new species are growing without touching a book, I just suddenly look at a plant or flower and hear them in me saying “more water please” or “sing to us today”.

It has never happened to me before with anything else… and I am letting myself get swept away with this gift because it brings me actual joy and happiness to experiment in this way.

A part of me will always be questioning everything, reality itself for that matter, but when I feel in my bones the voices of the unknown known I always listen, and books, practice, people that really know about nature, always end up confirming these voices… They are the soul of nature that speaks to all of us, if we just learn to be quiet enough to listen. Thank you Mama Gaia, I love you.

Gift from Hinton, photo by me

“The tree that would grow to heaven must send its roots to hell.” Nietzsche.

If there ever was a sentence that rings true for me this year, this is it.

For the past 10 years I have grown so much, changed in ways I couldn’t have predicted, always in pursue of a better version of myself that could be more than enough and worthy of this life, in pursue of the light, in pursue of inner peace and my home in this existence… and I forgot the most important lesson of them all: balance.

But Life is always wiser than I think I am, and always has a way of putting things back into the balanced perspective. I flew and flew so high, that I burnt my wings in the realisation that nothing underground is sustaining my height. No roots, no base, just a falsely justified list of old values and beliefs that had served their purpose in the past and that were so dusty and old they couldn’t be more than a memory dissolving… hopefully integrating in myself.

It has been a powerful, transformative and truly painful descent to my undergroung cave deep below. Step by step I walked through shadows of my own making, I put on and took off many masks, I uncovered deeply hidden potential waiting to be acknowledged, I forgave, I remembered, I held my own hand and descended through every portal until the only thing left was absolute darkness.

I was afraid, but I was more tired. I was angry, but I was more tired. I was sad, but I was more tired. I had to let go of my tight grasp on who I thought I was, who I think I am, and surrendered and closed my eyes. I spiraled into the abyss. I cried myself into ecstasy. And in that unbearable sufferring that still brings tears to my eyes as I write, I felt it. I felt it all. All.

I felt myself die. I felt all the parts of me I left behind and locked away. I felt how cruel I had been to the me’s that had helped me survive in the past. I felt my heart burst open in my chest as I held my inner self in a compassionate embrace. I felt how all I believed in became smoke, ascending away into oblivion.

You might think that the pain persisted when I emptied myself from all that I thought I was, maybe we think it is the absence of something that creates perpetual suffering. But the emptiness that shook me awake gave me the greatest gift this year; hope. Hope. A bright tiny star shining in the centre of my being reminds me I am held even when I am nothing more than relatedness and relationships, a little minuscule part of it all, but part of it all nonetheless, and that is more than enough.

I close the year knowing I gave myself permission for the first time in my life to really let myself guide me wherever I needed to go. It was, and continues to be an inner journey. Not many will understand, but these inner landscapes and images and life are the truest part of my existence, so much more than the external. I had always known, and at last, I listen.

I would like to end by saying THANK YOU. You all know who you are. Thank you for supporting this journey of mine. Eternal journey to the Self.

Art by me

I have cried almost every day this year. The darkness I feel surrounding my heart is so heavy, and so dense. I have moments of light and insights, lessons from the great below while in this state, but I am still swimming between so many shadows.

I am sad. I am angry. I am frustrated.

None of it is caused by my external circumstances, but by my inner turmoil and confusion.

The people we love the most sometimes are those who don’t understand and can’t. Maybe no one can really understand another person. If there is not even one truth, if there are so many perspectives then it’s normal to feel and be misunderstood. The problem is when our well being depends upon the external factor that others understand us, and accept us.

Here lies my biggest issue, I feel so alone in what I feel knowing it’s not true, but I feel it. And to feel it all, until the most painful fire burns me up into ashes is a practice I give myself out of love.

The kind of love only one can give oneself. The kind of love that can never be found outside oneself. The kind of love that loves the darkness and the suffering and let’s it be what it needs to be, when it needs to be. The kind of love I aspire for myself and others.