Thursday, April 11, 2013

follow the sun

"The weak can never forgive.  
Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong."  
--Mahatma Gandhi

"Bee your King," she channeled,
speaking for my Highest Self as my present Self sat, cross-legged, in the grass.
While telling her of my most recent commitment to align myself most intimately
with those whose Earth-based ethos and values mirror my own, the birds in the trees
began to chirp loudly, flapping their wings and fluttering about. 
"Were they doing that before?" she asks.
"No," we both notice.

She leads me through the deepest healing I have ever received.
Intuitively guided by the images that arise from the deep pit of our collective consciousness,
she is led to release too many years of toxic build-up that have meta-physically gathered, like tar, in my ears.  My tears finally runneth over when the highest selves of my parents make themselves known.  Conveying through her how they intentionally chose me as their daughter, they let me know how much my presence in their lives is needed now for our continued growth together.  Asking for my forgiveness, I quickly respond - for that path has always been an easy one.  Still, my inner child feels the need to speak up.  "I am afraid," she shares.  "I am afraid I will get hurt again." 

My best friend of fifteen years visually guides me to a meandering stream where she encourages me to pick up a rock.  "This talisman will protect you," she says, "with it, you are able to immediately take the shit and turn it into gold."  It's a practice I've had to master in this lifetime.

Today, I awake and feel the sadness of all of the destruction that has been a result of my imbalanced self.  Yet, I've discovered how to compassionately communicate my vulnerability so that those who LOVE me can show up for me.  And, they do.  With black tourmaline and white selenite gemstones in my pocket, I rise to the challenge and the opportunity.

Last week, a psychic at work shared how powerfully potent this new moon time period was to bee.  And, today, while closing "Lady of the Lake," the croaking frog that goes "ribbit" whenever someone walks by, went ribbit when I was on the farrrrrrrr side of the store.

"RIBBIT."