Tag Archives: soul

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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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.

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.

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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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Guest Post: Yoga Saved Me from Body Hatred

This is a guest post by the darling Jen at Yoga-Moods.com. Jen and I have connected deeply on our mutual love of yoga and the body. On her highly informative, wonderful, and serene blog, she writes about the precious gift that is yoga and how it is helping her and others live richer, fuller lives. So, my BBB friends, let’s show Jen some love for so bravely exploring her transformation from body-hater to body-lover.

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Hello! I’m so honored that Liz invited me to write a post for Big Body Beautiful! I hope that my words resonate with you and perhaps help someone who is searching for a way to deep self-love.

For many years, I struggled with self-hate. I didn’t realize that’s what it was at the time. It was more a feeling of the world being against me. I see it clearly now, though. I didn’t love myself enough. I was painfully shy as a kid and I felt inferior to my peers. I remember the first day of kindergarten feeling so overwhelmed by everyone around me. I felt different from the rest of them.  While they laughed and chatted freely with each other, I shrank into the background, feeling as if I didn’t fit in. My red hair and freckles set me apart. I felt ugly and cursed my uniqueness. I was uncomfortable when called on in class. I surely couldn’t have anything valuable to contribute. Anxiety exuded from me and others felt it, too. This exacerbated the problem. Kids teased me, bullied me, and sometimes simply ignored me. I felt left out and diminished. I truly believed there was something wrong with me – and it started with my looks. Thankfully, I was blessed with real friends who accepted me and celebrated my individuality. But, that wasn’t enough to change my opinion of myself. I cringe to think how much easier things could have been had I discovered then what I know now: self-love is necessary for happiness!  Cultivating self-love is crucial in order to serve your purpose and live your dreams.

I remember as a second-grader sizing myself up in a full-length mirror.  My body is OK, I thought, but my face and hair? Terrible!  When I was 12, a family member asked me why my belly wasn’t flat like my friend’s after a day at the beach. I often heard this person bemoaning her own “thunder thighs,” saying I was lucky that I took after Dad. She often talked about how many of the women in her own family thought of themselves as ugly, though most of them were quite beautiful in reality. Still, the message was that my stomach was “too flabby” at age 12. I wish I could have ignored this comment, but it cut me to the core. For years, I focused so much on that belly wishing it would shrink. I starved myself. I berated myself. I did sit-ups and crunches like there was no tomorrow! My family then worried that I was getting “too thin.”

Despite having boyfriends who were clearly attracted to me, I still compared myself to models. I was unhappy with my face, my hair, my breasts, my butt…. One time, a boyfriend remarked how sexy my “potbelly” was, and instead of taking it as a compliment, I fell further into self-destruction. Strict diets, outrageous exercise routines, and constant self-criticism ruled my life.  It didn’t get me anywhere except unhealthy. Not to mention, I was thin – talk about body dysmorphic disorder. And, I was so focused on myself I couldn’t possibly serve others, which was always my life’s goal.

And then, something miraculous happened. I discovered yoga! It was, quite literally, as if a light shone down from the heavens! I felt as if I had found the key to life. Yoga has healed me in so many ways; I’d need to write an entire book to scratch the surface. But, the most important way yoga healed me was in allowing me to cultivate true self-love and acceptance. I got physically healthy in a gentle way, pushing myself to my limits but being kind to myself when I needed rest. I gained strength, which led to confidence. I had found a refuge – my yoga mat or my meditation cushion – where I could put everything else aside for a while and just be. All of this led to a profound self-love, which continues to grow and enhance my life today.

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Years of asana practice helped me tune in to my body’s capabilities, strengths, and needs. I discovered I could do things I never would’ve believed. When I mastered a new pose, it was an instant confidence boost. Yoga helped me finally come to peace with my body, and to actually develop that more toned stomach I always yearned for. It helped me begin to make healthier choices in my diet, my lifestyle, and with whom I surrounded myself. It helped me to accept that, as a woman, my body is constantly changing. My weight will fluctuate, I will experience break-outs, I may not always feel energized, and that’s all OK. Under it all, I am a beautiful soul, perfect and complete. When I focus on this, and my “connectedness” with others (which yoga also encourages), I am much more happy and productive. Every day I practice asana. Whether it’s a 90-minute class, a few sun salutations, or a quick break at work, it is a part of my life. If, for some reason, I can’t do my asana practice, though, I don’t worry about it. It’s not a chore; it’s a joy. I do it because I love it, and I do it for the continual benefits it brings.

Asana practice alone, however, I’m not sure would’ve done the trick. Dedicated meditation practice (also a major part of yoga, though we often think of yoga as physical) was also essential. Meditation took me to the depths of my soul and back. It was difficult, and I encountered things I’d have preferred to keep hidden. I emerged from meditation in tears on more than one occasion, but it was worth the effort. Over time, a deep, profound love developed inside of me. Love filled my entire being and overflowed into the world. Love sustains me every day and has enhanced my relationships. I confronted my deepest fears and allowed things to arise in my consciousness that I wasn’t fully aware were affecting my daily life. My self-limiting beliefs became very clear and I started working on changing them.

yoga_buddhaRegular meditation practice and checking in with myself, with love, keeps me steady, confident, and calm.  As much as possible, I wake up every day and meditate for 20 minutes.  I try to do the same when I come home from work. If I miss a day, I don’t fret, I just continue the following day. I take the meditation off the cushion, as well, engaging in mindful walks, eating, listening to music, creating art, making love….The list goes on. Just being present wherever I am. Meditation gives the gift of mindfulness that seeps into all areas of life. It trains us to bring ourselves into the present moment, the only moment during which we can act. This precludes worry and anxiety and allows us to truly enjoy living! Namaste, my friends!

And Then He Touched Me

…and it was all over. I was mush. I was a puddle on the floor. I was the ocean, the air, the sun, everything and nothing. I was he. He was me.

It never ceases to amaze me how “open” I am and how other people can simply floor me with the simplest of gestures. Sometimes, I’m waylaid by a soft look in one’s eyes, or I’m hypnotized by the barely perceptible smile at the edges of someone’s mouth, the curl of hair across a long neck; other times it’s a well-crafted sentence uttered softly in the room, the timbre in a voice that I love or the brush of one’s skin against my skin; all of these things (so easily and randomly) thrill me out of myself.

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Recently, a friend grabbed my hand and I practically fainted from his touch. It was so amazing. I spent the next several minutes catching my breath and trying really hard to pay attention to what was being said. I know there was talking, but I have no idea what was said. I was GONE!

With that one simple touch, a touch that most would think nothing of, the rock of my heart was blasted open and the shock of sudden, penetrating sunlight illuminated every square inch of me. I was breathless, spinning. That touch radiated through the palm of my hand, a silky electricity, raced up my arm, sped through my chest and gently snapped my heart chakra wide open, where that silk-strand then softly landed and fluttered there, heaving against me with the sweetest, most mesmerizing pulse.

Here’s the crazy thing. I can still feel that energy from him. I can conjure up that moment over and over and still feel it radiating through my body like it just happened. But, it’s deeper than this. It’s both of us together that makes it so intense. It’s the coalescing of energies that builds the monument to the moment. It’s the exchange that I’m after, the heart below the heart, the words below the words, the subatomic particles below the atoms.

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And, I’m so deeply appreciative, so adoring of this open channel, so in awe of him, his energy, his heart, and this connection between us. Because, even if he would not characterize the exchange in quite the same way as me, it did happen; I know that he feels it. I know that it’s happening all of the time. It’s happening to all of us on earth. And, it means something. Something big.

Namaste, my friends. Feel this with your lovely body, with your soul, pull these words into you and hold them against you. Take this in and go forth looking for opportunities to open your channel. There is nothing to fear here, my darlings. There is only love. Use it.

Happiest with a Big Harley Between My Legs

The title of this post is not a tawdry euphemism. LOL! One of the many awesome things that my healthy body lets me do is ride a big, heavy, 103 cubic-inch, 1690 CC, 2012 Harley-Davidson Street Glide. For those of you who ride, you understand the allure and necessity of this freedom-seeking activity without me even having to explain it, but for those of you who have never ridden, well, you’re missing out, my peeps. Riding is a perfect tool for exploring one’s spirituality and for generating happiness, lasting happiness. Following is a photo of my bike, “Anja”, or as I also call her, “my savior”:

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She’s the reason I’m still on this planet doing ma thing. Seriously. I live for three things: riding Harleys, helping people (women, in particular) and loving animals. Fortunately, I get to live in a place where I ride 300+ days per year. Riding, for me and some one million women in this country like me, is absolute nirvana; it’s uplifting, freeing, exhilarating, and happiness-inducing. I’ve written about this quite a bit on my blog for Biker Babe Tours, but now I’m going to describe it for you, my body-loving peeps.

But, first, a little exploration of why I ride.

It might be obvious to you all by now, but I have an enormous ego and intellect. I am not bragging. These have not completely served me in this incarnation. While they have helped me survive a traumatic childhood and made me some good money (among other things), they have kept me from drilling down on my softer, intuitive, and I’ll just say it, my psychic side. They have not made me happy.

My intellect has made it very, very difficult to walk forward into my feminine faculties. The ego has kept me chained to the mind and the mind’s machinations. It has distracted me from my real work, the work that I believe I came back here to do (which is to explore and develop my psychic abilities); it has waved a large flag of academia, science, and reason at me, kept me looking back at the past or toward the future instead of staying present, and ego has taken me down paths thick with vines of a false self, the self of illusion. Check out the groundbreaking works by Echart Tolle for more on this affliction.

So, like lots of other people on this planet, the mind has kept me far away from anything that could diminish the ego’s stronghold. Meditation? “Naw, we don’t need it,” my ego says confidently. Tapping into the divine feminine? “No, that will just get you hurt”, my ego whispers severely. Showing any weakness? “Certainly not!” my ego shouts. Thus, I have gone on and on, using my mind, growing it and my ego bigger and bigger and bigger.

So, what does this have to do with riding a motorcycle? Everything. Riding a HOG is my meditation. It’s how I rest. It’s how I feel and stay present. Eyes open. Heart open. In the zone. Feeling the road and the world. Releasing myself. Riding is my means of escaping the ego and the preponderance of thought, intellectualism, analyzing, quantifying, weighing, and describing that I do everyday. Riding is my chance to step out of the mind and simply be in the moment, which is exactly what I most need.

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Because it would be dangerous, I cannot get on the bike and process my technical work. I cannot get on the bike and process my relationships. I cannot get on the bike and think about quantum physics. I have to be present. Riding demands that one is totally, utterly available and honest about being able to be present. You have to be aware, awake, and attentive when riding. You have to watch the cars around you; you have to assume that other drivers cannot see you and thus, ride as safely as possible. You have to be totally in the moment and ready for anything.

Riding my Harley is the quickest way for me to tap into my deeper self, my soul. It’s a chance to rest my active mind and feel my body, be in my body, be in my body in the moment. I ride at least three times per week and average about eight hours of saddle time each week. In a good week, on the weekends, I’m out there both days for at least four hours per day. On weekdays, I might get a couple more hours of riding spread across a couple of days. Heaven! Nothing else feeds me like riding does. Nothing. Not even meditation. And, when I’m riding, I’m the happiest, most centered, and non-egoistic woman you’ll ever meet. Come with me, body-lovers. Let’s ride.

I Want You

Okay, I’ll admit it: I want you. I want to hold you in my arms, really feel your contours with my hands, with my being. I want to rest beside you and breathe you in and touch you. I want to hear your heart beat, feel your presence emanating inside of me; I want to savor the quickening of my blood when you look at me. I want to stare at you longingly, watch you thinking, tease apart the nuances of your words, decode the mystery of you, and feel how you feel when you are feeling it. I want to know that you sense this, too, that I’m not making it up. It’s real.

I love how your mind feels in my body. Your mind is riveting, fascinating, and so rich. You are incredibly brilliant. In my cells, I want to know what you know, what moves you, what brings you happiness, and what you think. Your spirit, which is hugely evident in your full, gentle eyes, is buoyant, larger than the sun, and shimmering; every time I see you, your spirit crosses the room and enters me with the sweetest little sound and I breathe it, you, into every pore. I pull you into me with force, deeply and fully. Every time this happens, I swoon; my legs buckle. I am filling up with you. I am filling up with the ancientness of you, the forever of you.

When we press together, colors stream from my head, your head, our hands and feet. The colors flush and then contract and careen around the room like bands of dripping wax, coating everything in succulent light. Blue shivers of electricity course the length of me, opening, releasing, shuddering, and shifting. I feel like I’m splitting open, my contents spilling and circling out in waves, touching everything and penetrating the surface of each object. But, then, there are no objects, no separation between anything. There are no edges to me, there is no start or stop to us; we are fused, bound together by light and love. We are simply everything and nothing and everything.

Our electrons combine. You are talking to me. At first, in the heat and energy around us, the words are quiet but then they stand up crisply. I hear them. I hear your soul. You are using my words, reciting things that I have written, which have touched you and have changed you inside. You are whispering words against my neck as we move together. You know that there is no greater gift than to have you uttering my words as we press into each other. You are my mind, my body. I am yours. My soul wraps around you; you receive it. Your soul envelopes me; I receive it, as we turn and spin together and weave the colorful parts of each other open. The two of us exposed, exultant, and finally, home.

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I want you to know that the mind has no true place in this place. Despite having to use mind to formulate these sentences, this is from the soul of the body, the soul of the soul, and this is how it feels to invite love, really invite another into my being and let them have their way with me.

This is total vulnerability and tenderness, staggering, breathless love, and the deepest spiritual connection; it’s beyond my mind’s abilities to truly capture. But, you get this. I don’t have to fill the space with more than this, more words. It is enough for me to know that these feelings and sensations live inside of you as they do me. We feel this together.

Lizzy_in_Love

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When we love another, when we want another, we are really seeking a deep and lasting connection with our Source; we are seeking the boundless love of the universe that is available to us at any time; it’s the love that we remember from the Other Side. This is why loving another feels so good, because when we adore someone, we are feeling our own alignment with Source energy; we are tasting our own endless capacity for affection and tenderness and we know that this is our soul’s true purpose. The above is how it feels for me. What about you?

“Chubby Yoga…

…and Other Tales of Spiritual Abundance” is the name of yet another book that I’m writing and have been writing for, well, several years (which, if you haven’t figured out by now, is a common refrain with me). ARG! If I didn’t have so much dang writing to do for large corporations, I might actually get a book or two finished and pushed out into the world once in a while….excuses…excuses…

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Chubby Yoga and Other Tales of Spiritual Abundance chronicles my exploration of Hatha yoga and the often funny things that have happened in my quest for transcendence. The book also explores the importance of modifying poses (which I dislike having to do), being patient (which I’m not), being fully present (which is really hard for me), and giving myself permission to be less than perfect (which makes me cringe to even type).

Why modify poses?

Chubby or not, many of us have to modify at least some yoga poses to accommodate various aspects of our physiology, whether due to injury, body type, flexibility, health-level, etc. So, it occurred to me that modifying poses in yoga is a perfect metaphor for, well, the rest of life.

Learning to modify one’s poses means easing up and relaxing, being more patient with ourselves. It’s a declaration of protection for oneself, because it means that instead of crashing into daily experience, pushing ourselves to do more than we are capable, and doping ourselves with constant stress, we learn how to ease into living (or a stretch). We pull back, just a little, and we save some for later. In mastering this, we send a clear message to the body that we are not here to dominate or control or change her, but to work with her, to learn greater acceptance, to generate appreciation and even love for her, to listen instead of talk. The same goes for other areas of our lives. (Oi vey! Am I ever in trouble!)

yoga_buddha

It is said that one teaches what one most needs to learn, so yeah, this is a biggie for me. Modifying poses (and not just in yoga) is a practice that I want to embrace. Fully. And, as you can guess, it’s difficult because I’m so used to being so very physical. I’m strong and bold and have never met a physical task that I couldn’t do. I have never met something that I cannot explain or lift or at least move enough to solve a problem, like the Volkswagen beetle that I literally picked up one end of and moved (with my friend Brian) because the owner had blocked my car in while we were hanging out in Laguna Beach one night. But, that’s a story for another post.

I am just larger than life and very capable of physical feats of strength. I’m just used to being able to do or figure out anything that I want, from bungee jumping to racing motorcycles to shingling a roof to writing about integrated circuits and other physics-laden topics. Pulling back is hard for me. Modifying poses is hard for me. But, it’s necessary to my expansion and I argue the rest of humanity’s, too.

You all know that I believe we humans, in general, must develop a much more open channel with our bodies, but I also see a benefit to doing this in all facets of our lives–be it marriage/partnership, child-rearing, spirituality, relaxation, career, and so on. If we are to gain the body’s trust and develop greater self respect, we have to learn how to be good to our bodies, to ease up, to modify our approaches and practices. Once we learn how to do this with the self, we can then apply it to our other relationships. For, without self love, there is no real love.

Amitabha Stupas in Sedona

Pulling back instead of pushing deeper is sometimes the very thing that our bodies (or relationships) most need. Not holding a pose (or a stance or an argument) for longer than necessary is sometimes the order that we must heed. Dropping one’s defenses and being vulnerable might be the best way to solve a dispute with another person. Admitting that you are afraid and not feeling capable, might be the turning point to greater awareness, understanding, and change inside of yourself or your marriage. 

We so clearly know that domination (of the self, earth, or others) is not working. Domination is not a healthy model for humanity and has not gotten us what we really want, which is spiritual connection, love, peace, forgiveness, patience, and understanding. Negating the body or other people has not served our greatest good. It’s time to question those behaviors, push through (or go around) them, and learn to lighten up. Pulling back on a viewpoint or a pose might be the very thing that helps us transcend the ordinary and achieve the greatest expansion that we have ever known. I want to try it. Are you with me? I’ll be out on the deck in a modified down-dog if you need me.

All my love and light to you, friends. ~BigLizzy