Death Really Messes Me Up

Today, I learned that a wonderful, sweet, funny, and amazing friend of mine, Matt, passed away several days ago. I found out by way of a Facebook post, which is super weird. Like, that’s how we all communicate now. That’s how you find out good and bad news. That’s how you learn of events in people’s lives. No one calls anyone any more. We post to Facebook.

When I saw the message, it was like something unseen came up and punched me right in the heart chakra. It literally took my breath away. I held my phone, staring at the screen, re-reading the words, with an open mouth, and then hot, huge tears blasted out of me. I’m in shock. My heart hurts so badly right now. My body is shaking. I’m anxious, cold to the bone, and so, so utterly sad. Matt is gone.

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Travis and Matt

I believe that Matt had a plan, that he followed the plan, and left when he was done with this incarnation. He was done. He left planet. Even though he and his partner Travis had just gotten married in Hawaii. Even though he regularly gifted the world with the biggest laugh, the biggest heart, and the deepest warmth that I have ever experienced from another human being. Even though he was divinely happy with his life, lived it to the hilt, traveled with his husband all over the world, drank fine wine, ate awesome food, and lived like none other. He left. YOUNG.

I believe that we choose our day and time of death. I believe that our souls are eternal. I believe that you never kill energy, and at the core of it, we are energy beings in bodies for but a short time. I believe in an afterlife. I believe that we live many, many times. I find no conflict inside of me for holding these beliefs and imbuing them with loads of thought and emotion despite not really knowing.

Yes, at bottom, I’m agnostic, but I love believing what I believe. I love imagining that there is a God/Goddess (or many of them) and that they care about humanity and our expansion. I love feeling how my beliefs feel inside of my mind and body. I love searching for answers to things that have no answers.

ocean_unsplashBut, no matter how much I read, study, delve into, and process my beliefs, no matter how comfy I get myself in any given moment with death, it truly makes no sense to me at all. I cannot fathom that a body lays down and is animated no more, the spirit leaves, the body decays. I cannot wrap my mind around it. I have meditated on death, read about it, felt it inside of me, held little birds in my hands that crashed into my windows, and watched them take their last breath despite the high frequency energy I was offering to them. I have devoted hours of satsang to death in order to fully arrive at the truth of it and accept it. But, I cannot. I cannot accept death. Death is unknowable, untraceable, and unacceptable. 

Well, I accept that it happens. But what effs with me is why now? Why do we leave when we leave? Why did Matt leave when everything was right and well and good in his life? Why now? Why didn’t I get to see him or hug him one last time? Why did he leave Travis like this? Why, why, why, why, why? Maybe it’s my ginormous ego that refuses to really look at death and open to it. Probably. I dunno.

Matt, if you’re reading this, feeling this, hearing my heart, know how much you added to my life just by being here, by being my friend, by living so fully and richly when you were here. mattKnow how much love and joy you radiated, how much like the sun you were in others’ lives. For, you, my dear friend, were so bright, so warm, and so healing to others. You touched many, many people in your line of work and travels, people who are now pouring their love out to you and Travis by way of their posts on Facebook, people who are thinking about you, crying over the loss of you, and remembering you. I want to believe that you know all of this and are taking in just how lovely you were in this life and reveling in the mark that you made on this world. Honey, there will never be another one like you. My heart is so full of love for the journey that you let all of us share in and experience with you. I love you, Matt. See you around, my friend. I hope.

Step Away from the Body!

Sometimes…you just have to get away. Peel out of there like a shot. Bail. Abandon ship.

There are moments when it’s nearly impossible to be in the body, to stay with the body. I’ve found that this usually occurs in times of intense feeling, trauma, anxiety, or fatigue. If you’re anything like me, your feelings are massive, earth-shaking, and, well, bigger than the universe. Feelings are messy, deranged, reckless, momentous, and impossible to contain. Our feelings are so big that we’re often afraid of them and sometimes so raw that it feels like they’ll choke us (or at least, do tissue damage). Damn emotions. ;)

Whenever something gets too close, hurts too much, or feels too big or confusing, I bail on my body. This is called disassociation; it’s pretty common in people who have been abused. I do it subconsciously, of course, and it happens so fast that I can’t stop it. Most of us disassociate to some degree. When you daydream, that’s disassociation. When you drum, you enter a disassociated state. When we trance while listening to music, deeply relax, or even when some of us do yoga, that’s a type of disassociation. But, some of us disassociate dozens of times per day (or more) to avoid feelings. Some of us live more “out” than “in”. I lived more out of my body than in my body for decades.

For the longest time, I didn’t know that I was employing this type of coping mechanism. I didn’t even know what it was until I went through therapy. Analysis revealed to me that when the sh*t goes down, I leave my body effortlessly and instantly. My spirit vacates. Again, for years, I did this without realizing it. And, it was a real process to identify my penchant for disassociation.

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Unsplash art is free and fabulous; check ’em; http://www.unsplash.com

I was in my second year of high school and going crazy. Years of living with abusive parents (four of them between both sides of the fam) and siblings (two of them between both sides), plus gobs of other physical and emotional trauma, had literally brought me to the edge of sanity. I was a complete and utter wreck. I was anorexic/bulimic and torridly addicted to cigarettes (1.5 packs) and caffeine (1200 milligrams) per day. I ate one meal per week. My life was imploding all of the time, but, hey, I looked competent. I acted brave. I was thin and beautiful. People thought I was well.

At the end of my Sophomore year in HS, I was trying to move out of my dad’s insane household and struggling to pay for food, school supplies, clothes, and the bare essentials. I was working under-the table at a video store and putting in as many hours as I could get, in addition to going to school. So, there was intense pressure in my life, intense pain, and heaps of childhood damage that I was doing my best to hold down and avoid. It was a truly awful time. And, being in high school, with all of its pressures and torment, was the last thing I needed or wanted. But, of course, I went to school every day, because if I hadn’t, my dad, (read: bad-ass cop/investigator), would find me and drag me back into the hell from which I had escaped. He warned me that he would. I knew he would. So I toed the line, stayed in school, did my time.

“Doing my time” included a stint of living in my car, which was preferable to actually going back and living with the damn-family. Yep, it was pretty bad. But, my ego had me convinced that I was fine. What other 16-year-old lives on their own? I didn’t need any help. I just needed to stay away from my crazy family and work harder, that was all. This was the stuff my ego was routinely telling me and since I was rarely ever in my body, it was easy to believe my ego, easy to believe that I had things under control.

In talking with an older friend of mine one day (who was a regular at the video store where I worked), I let some of the “crazy” out. I admitted that my childhood had been pretty abysmal and I was often so depressed that I had trouble getting out of bed. He suggested that I call a therapist with whom he had worked and gotten some help.  At first, I balked because “everyone has families like mine, right?” He assured me that no, what I suffered through was actually far worse than what many people go through; it had damaged me; I clearly needed help. His words burned me. They did. I felt them pinging somewhere deep inside of my body as he spoke them, and I knew he was right.

I called the shrink soon after, made an appointment, and in the consult with the doctor, I begged her to help me. I offered to pay her $10 per week for our sessions, because it was all I had. I ended up going to her for three years. And, despite the fact that my therapist tried really hard to turn me into a Christian (a story for another post), the therapeutic process actually saved my life. In my sessions, I finally caught up with the damage that had been done to me. I saw and re-experienced, in garish detail, the abuse, the trauma, the heartbreak, the devastation, the agony. I crawled through the dark woods of myself over and over and got lost inside of those woods many times and sometimes for days on end.

I learned about disassociation and how I had used it exclusively to avoid my feelings. I learned when I do it, how to catch myself doing it, and how to stay in my body (or at least, how to return to it faster and catch some of the feelings that I was trying to avoid). And, while therapy made me feel like sh*t, often, it also began to work in subtle ways, ways that I couldn’t articulate until much later. I learned how to descend into the body and hold the feelings that I was running away from. This work was harrowing, painful, awful, and at the same time, illuminating and beautiful. Analysis helped me so much. I loved and hated it. But, I did the work. I kept going.

Truthfully, even now, it’s a daily struggle to stay present and descend into the depths of my body versus pop out and retreat to my mind or somewhere “out there”. Sometimes, it’s such a chore to dig in on my feelings, trace them to the thoughts I was thinking, ask questions, wait for the answers, and not run away from my emotions. Sometimes, I just can’t do it. I have to leave. And, I’ll be honest, I like bailing. I like being “out there”. It’s safer. There are fewer feelings “out there”. But, I’ve learned that it’s not always helpful to bail.

While disassociation is a coping mechanism that serves a purpose, is necessary, and even arguably “natural” for human beings, when we do it too much, it can keep us from healing our inner wounds and fully living. It also cements a less-than-healthy relationship to the body because you’re not fully feeling the body or living in the nuances of experience from the body. You know what I mean. We all struggle with body image issues. We all reject our bodies sometimes. I had to learn how to dig in versus bail out and I had to learn how to  walk into my wounds. When I did that regularly, when I did the work, huge transformation happened for me.

So, tell me about your experience. Do you disassociate? How does that feel for you? What is your journey with it? Have you come up with some ways to manage your departures? Tell me about it in your comments. Let’s talk.

This Exquisite Madness

People often say to me: “Lizzy, how can you possibly feel all of the stuff that you write about? Where does it come from? You can’t possibly process this much, channel this much, can you?” I smile. I look into their eyes and ask them in my mind: “What do you think? Do you not feel the worlds of movement in my writing? Do you not see the soul peering back at you when you catch my eye? Do you not grasp the immense, unfathomable, endless infinity of experience, emotion, and thought when you stand beside me?

But, here’s the secret: all of that is exactly what I feel when I look at you, when I stand next to you, when I peer into the soul of you. This exquisite madness, this thing that we’re all doing here together, as in, expanding mankind’s consciousness, is the only raison d’etre any of us really need and it’s our only important work. We are doing it together. It is happening.

So, yes. I really do feel everything that I write about. I came here “on” and there is no holding back, no tapping out, no turning this off. Admittedly, this madness scares people, people who are not ready for someone who is so awake. I’m not bragging when I say this, guys. This is simply the case. I’m awake. It’s acutely painful at times. It’s lonely at times. But, it’s worth it. And, you do this, too. You’ve gotten to your own version of “here”. Your exquisite madness is more lovely than mine, I venture.

So, for those of you wondering how it feels…

When I eat food, explosions of emotion erupt inside of me. I can feel the soul of the food entering my cells. I can feel the essence of how the food was grown, how it was handled, packaged, and shipped. I can sense the atoms of sunlight bursting on my tongue. I can hear the messages from the food, the acid in the soil, the alkalinity of the water that fell on the plants. I can feel my consciousness changing shape when I consume food, when I feed my lovely body. The plants hold ideas for us. I decipher them with my senses. I close my eyes when I eat often because the feelings are so full, so big, so voluminous. And, I’m giving myself over to the experience. I’m fully receiving the experience.

When I listen to music, the notes expand inside of my body, shake feelings from the deepest recesses, spin my head with such dizzying movement and joy. I cry alot when I listen to music but not from sadness, from fullness. The lyrics burst through me, become me, live inside of me: glowing, radiant, energized, and precise. Music stretches me out on my back, opens my limbs, changes the structure of my cells. I love laying on my yoga mat, blasting house music, and widening my entire body to it, my psyche taking off like a shot through the universe.

When I’m writing, words shake me at my desk, the phonemes strangle me with energy; it’s a ravishing experience to be taken like that, to yield to it, to let go. Words are not just words. Words are life essence. Words are the conveyance system for me. They are so important. You want me to fall in love with you? Use your words. Tell me what you feel inside; go there, find the emotion, locate it inside of you, tell me where it is. Tell me how it is to be in your body, to stand on a mountain, to be seeing creation, to be pulling life through you. I’ll love you forever. And ever.

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Lovely art, compliments of lovely unsplash; check ’em: https://unsplash.com/

When I touch his hand, my body opens, drops, undulates like a flag in high winds, receiving, pulling in, and emptying out. I feel his energy crossing, entering my veins, filling my insides, living inside of me, in all parts of me. When I look into his eyes, my whole body vanishes and I’m suspended there for a millisecond, floating out to edges of the universe, holding the beam of energy between us, riding that wave, feeling that spark, that atomic connection crossing the distances between us, over and over. When I merely think of him, my cells jump up and dilate, tasting all of the moments that have transpired between us, the words, the sentences, the laughter, the love, reliving everything, drawing it all in, holding it, teasing apart the meanings. And, there is sooooo much meaning between us.

Yes, this is real, people. This is what it means to be fully awake. This is how it feels to accept what comes, to enter the garden of the self, to know that all of my experiences have been drawn to me, by me, for a reason. Each moment, whether positive or negative, holding a gift in its hands for me. To live life fully awake, means, at bottom, to demonstrate a willingness to be vulnerable, a willingness to search for personal answers, to open your rib cage and let life trifle with your innards, to look inside of the psyche, hold what’s there, ponder the self, and above all, to be honest about the self, regardless of how messy or real or uncomfortable.

It takes courage to do this work, to lower one’s defenses, to head out toward an unknown horizon, and stay this open, but in the process, we see colors, feel feelings, have thoughts, and taste experiences that we would not have otherwise had and we grow profusely in the process. Yes, it’s acutely unnerving at times; it’s scary at times. I have been punished, rejected, ridiculed, hurt, and misunderstood in life because of my open, full-feeling nature, but it hasn’t stopped me; no one has dimmed my light and no one ever will. This is how it feels to channel the madness of sages and saints and shamans. This is how it feels to be “on”. Come with me. You know this road. You’ve stood on this bridge. You built this tower. Come stand beside me.

Being on Fire, All of the Time

Admit it. From reading the title of this post, you think this is a diatribe about menopause, don’t you? I would. I mean, yeah, everyone who is in female body this time around goes through it. Most of my readers are female. And, many of you know that I’m knee-deep in the “change” and physically hot much of the time. But, no. This post is not about menopause. I’ll spare you that particular madness today. LOL!

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Artwork, thanks to unsplash, which gives us beauty, freely: https://unsplash.com/

 

No, this is a post about living wide open, living on fire. It’s about allowing our bodies to channel energy, consciousness, feeling, thought, and experience in a greater capacity; it’s about accepting that we are conduits for spirit and aligning ourselves with that primary thought. It’s about how to lay down the barricades, let experiences live inside of us, pull deeper meaning from the tissues of the body, grow from the exercises, and contribute a more authentic part of the self to all that is. In short, this post is imploring you (and me) to turn “on”. I want us to walk forward in life, gilded by the fire of self-awareness, knowing that we are never alone, never abandoned, never truly damaged by anything, not even death.

Ambitious, I know. Not sure I can do this topic total justice, but you know me: I’ve got lots of words and I’m going to use them. I’ll do my best and am counting on you to tell me if I fall short.

oneFirst rule of being on fire all of the time: Accept that everything you feel is good, right, makes sense, and has a place. Everything we feel is right. Are you feeling so angry that you could kill someone today? It’s okay. That feeling is right. You have every right to feel that way. Those are not “bad” feelings. They are just feelings. Feel your feelings. Know that your emotions are always there for a reason. You aren’t making this shit up. Some people suck. Some people are cruel to us. Some people, in the expression of their own harm, offer harm to us (that we then decide to pick up, let in, and work with). Your feelings about anything going on in your life are always right, true, good, and useful to you.

It’s what we do with the feelings that counts. It’s about digging out, from deep inside of us, what the feelings mean, and their origins. So, how do we accept that our feelings are always right? We think about them. We observe when we are having them. We identify them. For example, “Oh, this is anger. I’m angry. Why am I angry about this? What’s below this anger? What’s the message that I’m taking from this person’s behavior? What are my thoughts associated with this episode of anger?”

We can then seek to dialog with the feelings and trace them back down into the depths, into the core places, to the beginning. Why am I angry? Pause. Let the question float into your body. Feel it there. Find the spot where it lives in your body. Your epiphany will come. “Ah, I see now. This person’s behavior triggered some thoughts in me that go all the way back to childhood about feeling less than okay in my family. Ah. I see. This person’s behavior is a message that I maintain about not being good enough. Okay. I get it now. These feelings are valid and merely indicating a part of me that I’m animating in this moment. I want to dig into this more. I want relief from this and I want to take responsibility, so I’m going in…deeper…”

This practice of accepting feelings takes some people an entire incarnation (or more). Just this one step. But, if you can get to the place of largely accepting that your feelings are right and a result of your thoughts, your core beliefs, you are living on fire. You are living a more healthy life. It’s a simple-sounding thing to do. But, it takes real work. It takes astuteness. It takes being awake and being present. It takes a willingness to be responsible. Your feelings and thoughts are your responsibility. You created them. If you can also accept your emotions, you are ahead of the game. Now, go forth and own how you feel, invite your feelings in, hold them, understand them, ask questions of them, get to the source of why you react the way that you do, know that your emotions will shift when you are ready, and thank your feelings for telling you about the thing that you wanted to explore. If you do this one thing, you’ll see your life open up in miraculous ways.

two

Second rule of being on fire all of the time: Accept that there is more going on in your life than what you can physically see. The physical manifestations of energy, what we physically see in the world, are varied, rich, and infinite, but they are only half of the picture. There are truly countless things happening below the level of our perceptions, in what I call the soul-level consciousness, that directly impact how we move through and create this world.

I love the Pierre Teilhard de Chardin quote that says: “We are not physical beings having a spiritual experience; we are spiritual beings having a physical experience.” Yes. Like it or not. Believe it or not. We are spirit in physical form. We come back here to earth for a core reason that is often only known to us in our souls. Some people can get right in there and find out what that core reason for their being is and then move on it. While, others struggle to understand it or grasp it and may never know. But, it changes nothing. What we see is not all there is, regardless of what “ology” or “ism” or “non-belief” you might entertain in this lifetime.

How can you sense this? Close your eyes. Call in one of your spirit guides (whether you believe in them or not). Ask your guide to give you a sensation in your hand or leg. Wait for it. If you train yourself, you will be able to feel them show up. You will feel something. Still not convinced? Walk into your room angry and see how your dog or cat reacts to you. Watch the energy emanating from your physical body in the reactions of others. THIS IS WHAT’S REAL. You are sensing the invisible realm that is at the core of all life, the spirit, the Source of all that is, the impetus for all things, and it is each of us. We are extensions of Source energy in physical bodies.

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Robert Lanza, M.D.

Need more? You can read this life-changing book: Biocentrism: How Life and Consciousness are the Keys to Understanding the Universe by the esteemed and amazing, Robert Lanza, M.D. (AKA: God in the flesh). I guarantee that this one book will change your life forever. You could read 500 other books and never arrive at the shores of this particular truth so concretely and so satisfyingly. Yeah, the book is dense and quantum-physics-central, but don’t let the math and density scare you. If I can get it, you can, too.

This book explains mankind’s “universe” in a mere 207 pages. You will never, ever be the same. You will never look at your feelings, thoughts, or behaviors in the same way. You will be freed from your past, freed from your limited focus, freed from your narrow ideas about what it means to be alive. You will finally understand that true life is what’s going on in the invisible realms and it includes the physical stuff, but the physical is just a result of the invisible, the consciousness called you. Physical manifestations: bodies, cars, books, trees, mountains, etc. are all coalesced by your consciousness, my consciousness, not the other way around. We create matter. Plain and simple. We do. These things do not exist at all without our consciousness directing them, shaping them, molding the molecules. And, humanity is getting very close to proving this.

threeThird rule of being on fire all of the time: Accept that your body is your fastest and biggest ally in growing your consciousness. You cannot get what you came here to do done without your physical body. You cannot live without your body. Your lovely body is how your spirit advances. It’s how you get what you came to manifest manifested. Your body is vital to your growth as a consciousness, a soul; it’s necessary, right, and good. Your body is the quickest messenger and “manifester” of your thought and feelings. Your body is your first and closest barometer for the direction of your thoughts. Plain and simple. If you’re sick, that means you are resisting something. What? Find out.

If you can get to the point where you can accept that your body, right or wrong, sick or well, fat or thin, is your chance to expand as a soul, you’ll be living on fire; you’ll be living a more authentic experience. The fact is, our bodies are giving us lessons that we chose to work on before we even got here. Don’t blame your body for the lessons that you chose to come in and work on; it’s not your body’s fault that you are unwell. Your body made an agreement to work with you and you need it, so love it. Your body (like everything you experience) follows your thoughts, every time, without exception. The more compassion and love you can show your body, the faster you will expand, the quicker you will heal, the faster you will get your lessons done, and the richer your experiences will be.

So. Let’s make a vow to live on fire all of the time. Let’s make a decision today to let life pull through us and accept the permutations of experience that we draw to ourselves for the purpose of expanding. Let’s know, at our core, that what we feel is right, that we can act from feelings without consciousness or we can act from feelings with great precision and reflection. Both work, but one brings us greater gifts. We can decide to accept our feelings, accept the unseen help and support that is all around us, and accept that our bodies are a very vital part of this journey. And, finally, we can use the fire that we generate to eliminate what no longer serves mankind: self-recrimination, fear, hatred, judgement, lack of responsibility, and so on.

I don’t know about you, but I’m burning. My office is now filling up with the sweetest smoke. :)

Body Poetry is Craaazy Cool!

Lately, I’ve been writing what I call Body Poetry and it’s pretty cool. What is Body Poetry?  It’s poetry that bubbles up from the body consciousness to the mind, not the other way around as is typical with writing poems.

This is how I do it. I sit for a few minutes, close my eyes, breathe deeply into my core, and ask my body to give me sensations, feelings, or words. I invite my body to talk with me. It takes a long time for me to center and still myself long enough to hear, really hear my body, and not trample what I’m receiving with my mind. But, I’m getting better at “hearing” my body with practice. Sometimes I get physical sensations in a particular area. I then zero in on that area and ask “What do you want to say to me? I’m listening.”

The first few things that came through me were really odd, like stream-of-consciousness stuff that seemed to have little coherence or meaning to my current circumstances; here’s an example of something that recently came from the area of my chest and ribs:

yellow curl
heart-scape sealed
grab air
nothing
float
closed

My heart said these things, or “breathed” these words to me as I meditated. I had to wait a while for the words to come up from my body and settle softly in my mind. It’s hard to describe what’s actually happening when I do this, but the words flit through me really fast from way deep in my body. I didn’t understand the meaning of the words that first came through me, but I made sure to hold them, welcome them, feel each one, and live there inside of them for a few minutes. Then, when I traced the words back down into my body, they were crowding my heart area and their meaning became clear. I realized that I had been guarding my heart toward someone because I was recently offended by them. At the time, my mind had quickly and dismissively characterized the whole episode as “their problem”, but when I held the feelings and traced them deeper, I found that my heart was actually still stunned and a bit sore from the exchange between us.

So, my heart’s message was one of curling inward, yellowing, and sealing off. In looking for a connection with the other person and getting nothing in return, my heart then went away with a residue of pain and carried this pain until I asked it to tell me what was going on. And, when I held the words and asked where they were from, the person’s image loomed up in my mind and my heart constricted. Ah-ha! To get this message from my heart was profound. To see that my heart has its own code, it’s own language, and its own presence, aside from the rest of me, was so moving. And, it’s only continuing to deepen as I continue to do this kind of work.

So, I’ve been practicing this a little each day. I can tell you this: My belly wants to and likes to speak. My belly often speaks of force, strength, will, and drive. It often holds a simmering impatience and irritation. But, staying with the static from my belly longer, reveals something else inside all of that bluster and bravado; there’s a supple tenderness, a wish to protect, a yearning to be really seen and considered and loved. And, oh, my Goddess, my belly loves to be touched! She asks for it all of the time. :)

Anyway, I’ve found that the loudest feelings are often covering up my more gentle ones; the loud stuff is masking my vulnerability. It makes sense, but until I actually “lived there” with a deep concentration, I was missing all of this.

I have a particular person in my life, whom I adore and who is energetically in my body alot. This person gives me unending pleasure to ponder, sift, feel, and hold inside. When I dial in and ask for belly emotion, his face sometimes looms up inside of my mind, and then I feel such body joy, such pointed awareness of his physicality, his “essence”.  I get chills and radiating blue electricity inside my core and can actually feel my Chi radiating outward; it’s so pleasing. He’s incredibly tangible and physical for me. So, with the help of my belly (and some attention from my mind also), I wrote this poem:

Wanting to gently pull from youjournal_pages
a confession
softly uttered
in the stillness

of
a never-ending night

the barely audible
but steady
timbre of your voice
carrying the weight
of a thousand years
inside it
carrying me open
and down into your
body
as you bare
who you are
at that moment
in the darkness
and use your
missives
to ease the
latches of
my core places
open and
loosen points of
light
into the eaves
where they breathe
and blink above us
like night on
the mountain
whispering
your name
through me
over and over.

This is my belly wanting deep recognition, a confession that he feels as much as I do; it’s a sweet, soft, and pure recognition of the fact that he and I have known each other before now; it’s a longing to hear his words about that experience, our experiences together, then and now. As he speaks, my body opens and becomes his body; parts of me that are usually hidden are gently unlatched and the light of those energies is freed into the corners and eaves of the room where they blink like stars in the night, on the mountain, which has its own messages and mantra. It’s about trusting that this person, whom I’ve let into my core is gentle enough and reverent enough to know what a big deal it is for me to have him there. Few people make it into my core, so this is a significant shift in my energy paradigm. To be honest, it scares the hell out of me to have someone so inside of me like this, so deep, and so prevalent, but my belly largely dictated this reality, so I’m going with it. I’m holding the energy despite my fear.

I think I wrote about this before, but some years ago, I had the pleasure of talking with a psychic that could receive messages from a person’s body parts. She told me that my left knee was unhappy about some of the things I had been saying about it to other people. I was stunned at first and then incredibly apologetic. I begged my knee to forgive me. I simply didn’t know that the body listens to us so intently and never regarded the body as having its own code, it’s own consciousness, its own “life” outside of me, the soul and psyche operating it. Well, I learned such a valuable lesson that day. The lesson has obviously stayed with me. The body poetry work that I’m doing now is an extension of that work from so many years ago. It’s delicious.

Today. These are the words that came from my body:

Heart says: “blue haze quiet longing”

Belly says: “sifting
memories through layers
touching
edges of meaning
holding you
holding you and me”

My left knee says: “walk into future”
My lower back says: “need change need”

Interesting. So, so interesting. I have a feeling that big shifts are coming for me. My body is telling me in advance. I can feel it coming and I’m ready! What about you? You wanna try this? Please do and leave some comments about your experience; or, better yet, write a guest post. Would L<3ve that!

Put the Needle In

I’m an addict. I freely admit it. I’ve had this problem for a very long time. Um, lifetimes. I’ve struggled and battled with a pervasive, all-encompassing urge, a hot need inside of me that feels larger than the sun.  When I rest my head, it’s there whispering through me, easing me to sleep, asking me to give myself over to it. When I wake up, it’s there softly chanting in my blood, singing from the edges of my consciousness, pulling me into another day of deep feeling and longing.

Every face I peer into tells me about this desire of mine. I see it in other people’s eyes, I can taste it from the air around them. Every time I stop for a few moments, the tingle of this thing washes through my body, stirs my mind. It’s an invocation, an asking from my highest self. It’s a relentless voice at the core of me, asking…asking.

I’ve tried (unsuccessfully) to push past it, brush it aside, ignore its plea, stay out of its way, but it always catches me. It always catches up. I’ve gone into each living day full of hope that I can beat it, that I will not make the same choices, but I know that I won’t beat it. I will choose this over and over. I won’t beat this thing. Even when I rail to the heavens and ask why I came back here to this place, I know that I’ll succumb. Again. I always do.

needle

What is this addiction of mine? Living. Despite the pain it causes. Despite the heartbreak. Despite the loss. Despite the countless, exhausting, relentless, and charmingly beautiful experiences chronicled inside of my soul (Akashic records), I come back to this loathsome, but breathtaking planet over and over and over. I’m addicted to being in a body. I’m addicted to life. I’m addicted to feelings and thoughts and other people. And, like all addictions, there are all kinds of results.

Now, before you roast me for being cavalier about addiction, which I assure you, I’m not being, and have had my struggles with (work addiction, anyone?), hear me out. In my belief system, we humans plan lots and lots of details about each life we enter into before we get here. We sit in a classroom of sorts, with our guides, and choose core parameters around each life and the lessons on which we hope to work for each incarnation. We do not plan down to the minutia, but we place high-level markers in our path for specific lessons that we want to “advance” or “master” in a particular lifetime. We place agreements with other souls, in our plan, so that these people will come into our path and work with us on advancing. Yes, we make agreements with the so-called “good” people and the “bad”. We invite all of it.

We control lots of aspects of living before we live yet again. And, then we come in, hit some of the markers, live the experiences, and do our work of advancing as souls. None of life experience is “bad”. None of the stuff we do is “wrong”, nor for that matter is any of it “right”; it just is. We come in, live the plan (roughly) or deviate from it wildly, in some cases, and gain from it all. Our consciousness expands and grows and ripens with each experience. All of life experience serves us on a soul level. And, we ask for all of it, even the bad stuff.

When we are out of bodies, it all makes perfect sense, this pain, this torture, life’s hardships, and the joys. When we are in bodies and solely focusing from within an incarnation, however, life sucks so bad at times, we hate ourselves and every living thing on the planet. We struggle. We are stunned, injured, happy, depressed, angry, joyous, sad. Life hurts. Bad. Life is also excruciatingly gorgeous, heady, and beautiful. But, it hurts more than it is beautiful, in my experiences.

So, how does all of this relate to addiction? Ha, glad you asked. I, my friends, am addicted to life. I’m addicted to coming in here and going another round. I’m a classic “A-type-overachiever-perfectionist.” And, I know that these traits are core to my soul signature like I know that I have a physical face. I know that I choose really difficult lifetimes so I can advance “faster” but in so doing, I make myself pretty damn miserable. Alot. For, like, lifetimes.

How do I know this? My guides gave me the entire “download” one day as I sat talking about life lessons and reincarnation with my bestie. Behind my eyes, without warning, I saw a vision of me, an amorphous blob of soul sitting at a table, pouring over my records, and saying with a childlike exuberance:

“Oooo…ooo! I know! I’ll come in and be abused. YES! That’s what I’ll do. My mother will be a monster and she’ll help me work on trust, so let’s mark that down. I’ll then have incest experiences with a psychotic/sociopathic stepfather and my narcissistic brother and then, oooo!! I’ll be raped at age 12 and then go anorexic! Yes. THEN! I’ll have an abusive first husband and after that, I’ll get really fat and be workaholic and try to work myself to death at a young age…”

Yep, the entire thing played out for me in my third eye in a hot flash. I knew it was the truth because I heavily edit my “psychic ability” and ordinarily do not let things like this through. But, it busted through my firewall like nobody’s business. I “saw it” all before I could clamp down on it. And, then, I started laughing so hard because in that moment, I got total clarity. That moment led to others in which I was able to then see the decisions that I made and take utter responsibility for my path, my pain, my problems, my choices. It also led me to deeper understanding of my wiring, in this life and many, many others.

So, here’s the truth: I load up my plate with all kinds of pain and hardship before I get here and then when I get here, I bitch about the choices that I made in my planning. I bitch about how my life if going because it hurts. It’s true. I get here and forget that I’m eternal. I get here and I forget that all of “life” is an illusion and the real stuff is what happens outside of life (and in the soul). Life is just a play that is playing out on a stage of my own creation and I can change every aspect of it or none of it. I get here and forget that no matter what choices I make, I am loved beyond measure. We all are, by the way. I get here and complain that “life is too hard” or “my body hurts too much” or “that person is disrespectful” or, “why do I keep coming back here” or a real biggie for me, “I can’t advance fast enough”.

Shit, man. I am so good at bellyaching. And, this complaining that I do keeps me in victim mode. So, the first few steps in changing this pattern is to accept that I’m addicted to living, embrace that I’m getting what I need from my lifetimes, no matter how challenging they are, and writing this blog post to tell on myself. I want to accept that I am a spiritual being having physical experiences and that I will reincarnate, out of choice, not force. I want to stop pushing against my spirit guides, stop threatening them for sending me back here. I want to stop pushing against my psychic ability, my true nature. I want to embrace my lives and extract every ounce of precious learning that I can and I want to be okay with the pain. Truly okay with it.

In 2012, I got really, really sick: lung embolisms, a huge clot in my right leg (due to birth control pills), severe anemia, gallbladder loss, an ablation to my uterus, surgery for a filter to be placed in my vena cava, then an unsuccessful surgery to remove the filter seven weeks later (on and on). It was a crazy few months. I think part of that journey was a planned “way out” for me, a window that I worked in prior to getting here where I could “pop out” if I wanted to. Part of me didn’t want to face the rest of my work, even more work, the hard stuff that I’m now actively doing. But, I chose to stay. I’m still here.

I’m not afraid of dying. I mean, I have moments where it kinda freaks me out, but I have a strong sense that I’ve lived before and I’ll live again. I have this sense because I’m so close to the veil between here and there. I’m so close to the Other Side that “death” doesn’t scare me. What scares me is reincarnating again and going through this crap again and being in physical and emotional pain again.

A psychologist friend of mine, Robert, said to me recently (when I was… yes, you guessed it, bitching) “You’ll stop incarnating when you no longer care that you do”. Ha! Son of a… Ahhhh…the sweet truth, in a tidy little package of delicate little words, from a guru. God, how I love that man. Anyway, yes. he’s right. When I embrace my addiction to living, have gotten everything I need from it, come back here just to serve others, and question not what creator sends me in to do, then and only then will I no longer come back and face ever-grueling, painful, but illuminating and precious life in a body.

So, from the bottom of my bottomless soul, I say to each of you: “Hi, I’m Elizabeth H. ‘Liz’ Casey, aka, BigLizzy, and I am an addict”.

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Got My Pigeon Back!

…sort of…as you can see from the following photos (that my hubby took of me in our cluttered studio and which inspired this impromptu post), I’m back to doing yoga every day and LOVING IT! Goddess, why did I ever stop? Oh, that’s right. Bulging disks, the holidays, working two jobs, life, stress, etc. Thaaaaat’s right.

pigeon_asana1

Well, body lovers, I wanted to share these photos with you to simply re-affirm that every triumph, no matter how small, is good to recognize, celebrate, and pause long enough to let it into one’s core. Every success causes us to rise in energy or effectiveness or joy or consciousness and it’s all worth acknowledging. When one rises, we all rise. I have really missed doing my favorite pose, pigeon (aka, Eka Pada Rajakapotasana), and after four weeks of daily practice, it felt like a good time to try it. Ahhhh…

pigeon_asana2

However, I have to be honest. At first, I balked at sharing these photos. Pigeon is not the most flattering pose. BUT, just as quickly, I realized that my entire blog encourages self-acceptance and pushing oneself to explore all of the nuances of feeling and behavior that results from the exploration. So, sharing these photos was what I very much must do, if for no other reason than to drill down on my discomfort, to short-circuit my ego, to live what I write on a deeper level (like when I shared the demodex photo with you some time ago). So, I forced myself to post these.

Is my pose perfect? By no means. Is the pose flattering? No, but yoga teaches us that acceptance is key. Breath is key. Trying is key. Staying present is key. Staying with the body is key. And, above all, accepting the journey, whatever it looks like. I get to accept that not every pose will be as deep as the day before. Not every pose will “look good”. Not every minute will you be successful at staying totally present in your asanas, but it’s okay. You might not be able to do pigeon or tree or cobra every day, but that’s okay, too. There is room for all facets, all phases, all expression. Just show up. Keep showing up for your body. Keep listening to your body. Keep loving your body.

pigeon_asana3

It’s funny, but when my hubby snapped these, I was actually deep in the process of praising my body and thanking her for letting me do what I was doing. I was simultaneously feeling the delicious difficulty of pigeon, reveling in the sweat tricking, and glorying in my body for being so strong and flexible and wonderful. I L<3ve this.

So, there it is. Me, deep in yoga at the end of my daily practice, and loving the process of getting over my ego’s fear of being “less than beautiful”, which is funny because I am beautiful, even in pigeon asana. :) What about you guys? Have you been celebrating the small triumphs? Have you praised your body today? Have you tried pigeon or any other pose that made you think and feel deeply? Talk to me. I live for it. :)