The Larger Story of Love

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The pieces of my life are laid out before me. It feels like it’s time to pick them up and begin moving towards life again.

It’s not like I’ve dropped out of life, but I have been in resting and waiting mode mostly and learning more through writing. But I haven’t really moved forward much in terms of my work in the world. And that’s all good. Sometimes we need to be in that space, be with what is and stare at the abyss of possibility. With my eyes closed, I can see what rises to the surface to be lived next.

Much has become clearer over the past few months. I know that writing is my path. In a visioning the words “sharing stories” came to me. This may mean more than just mine…though that is a part of it. Lately I’ve been moved more than ever by the suffering of others. Though I know we can overcome suffering, and I understand how it’s often related to how we perceive the situation, this doesn’t make the experience any less real or painful. And sharing our stories can help others know they are not alone as well as bring about healing within and without. We share in order to let go.

Once upon a time a seed was planted by an English professor I had in University. He saw something in the way I wrote my papers in a Canadian Lit class. He shared more than the usual canon of works. We read women and people of color that may not have made it into that canon. He helped us see the experience of being Canadian was more than our mainly white, middle class world. We were faced with the injustices and I was moved to focus on those aspects of people’s stories.

I once tried to bring together the Pagan community in LA by writing about many of the individuals who were a part of it, maybe beyond what some thought of as the Pagan community. In doing that, I tapped into my storytelling ability. This was different from the novels I was writing. Fiction can bring much to light as well, but sharing the stories of individuals within a community with others of that community felt like being a part of the weaving of a larger story that was only partly mine.

Another class in University, Epistemology, which was a philosophy class about how we know, brought insights to me about how sometimes we can help bring light to the troubles of others by sharing their story. Sometimes they can’t be heard in a culture that marginalizes them, and so maybe those of us that have the means and ways can help them be heard. We can’t speak for others, but we can share their story as they view and live it.

These ideas have been with me for over 20 years and have surfaced in such ways as mentioned above, but there is more to this story. What’s surfacing now feels like all of the pieces of my life coming together. Where once they were aspects of my story, they now are now becoming coherent.

I’m also beginning to understand in my heart that my story is a piece of the larger story of women, of Canadians, of Americans, of citizens of the world, of Spirit itself. It’s all just experience in the heart of Love which beats and lives each one of us. We tell Its story with each breath, each step, each beat of our heart. We are here as Love’s purpose. Keep living your life and sharing your stories. It’s all has value and the ability to bring forth Love.

Freedom is Fearlessness

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Freedom is fearlessness. It is only from this place of freedom that you can find true fulfillment. The Sufi teacher, Llewellyn Vaughan-Lee says, “Real freedom means never knowing what is going to happen, and never resisting change.”

I used to think freedom was about doing what you wanted, but that kind of freedom is limited. I wanted certainty and often found myself resisting the very change that would allow me to be free.

And what is true fulfillment? What fulfills me?

It feels good to contribute and help others. I feel as though I do that with my writing and just creating gives me a sense of following my bliss.

But there is a deeper desire that goes beyond a sense of contribution and feelings of bliss. That desire is to know Love, to be connected to Source and completely let go of any needs. It is to know you are already filled. To be in the embrace of Love is to not want or wish but to simply be.

From this place of true freedom, fearlessness and fulfillment our lives fulfill the greater purpose of Love. We become the living light, a beacon even in the darkest night.

There is no path, only the one you create as you go. Others can be examples and we can learn from them, but their path is not ours. We must stand on the edge of creation and let our hearts, let Love guide us. We must look into the abyss and trust. It is with each step we create the ground beneath our feet, and it is holy.

Born Again Through the Word

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I bring my experience to the page. It is here the Great Work plays out for me. I live and die on the page in order to be born anew.

The book Lessons from a Lifetime of Writing stared back at me from the shelf so I picked it up. In it David Morrell asks his writing students why they write. They are stunned and when they answer they miss the truth. He suggests they write because they have to. I’ve heard this before. Is it my truth? Yes.

That same day The History of Magic by Eliphas Lévi made itself obvious. I was drawn to the chapter “Initiations and Ordeals” which was already bookmarked. It was about the Great Work, that inner journey to transform ourselves and our lives.

Why did these two books come to my attention? I believe it has to do with the type of writing I’m to do. I wrote about what Nature had to teach me yesterday on the Nature Is My Guru blog. Nature simply expresses itself. But it’s not straight expression, there is intention behind it. What I write isn’t just straight expression. Well, my journal may be, but I’m transmuting my experience in much of what I write and share.

And why am I transmuting it through words? Because it is healing for me. If it is healing for me, it may be healing for others. To be healed is to reveal our wholeness. To be healed is to be born again. This is the Great Work. To know ourselves again, for the first time. To know the world with our heart. To know we have the power to create because we are that which creates all.

My words are full of life, my life. My emotion expressed is what moves others. Life is motion. Death is letting go into stillness. Stillness is the place of possibility.

I put pen to paper and begin again.

Meeting My Mother Outside of Time

My mother Margaret Young

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about how I finally released most of the anger I had about my mother and my childhood. Now, I just miss her. In so many ways, I miss her.

The other day I saw a woman walking her dog. Her gait and size were like my mother’s. It felt like she was right there. In some ways she is, but it’s not the same as her being her in flesh and blood.

Years after my father died, he came to me in a dream. It felt so real. It was good to hear from him. He told me he was sorry for leaving so soon. There was a sense of release and relief in that experience. I hope my mother will come to me in that way. I’m open and will continue to open and practice being with what is, with all of my feelings.

I may have released my mother, but I have yet to release myself. I can still feel the guilt about not seeing her for so long. I talked to her on the phone, but… It’s not the same as being there in person. I have to let it go. I wasn’t ready to face the past. I wasn’t ready to deal fully with my present. But it’s time to let that all go.

Grief helps us lean into loss if we let it. We may feel lost, which is okay because then we can just be. Psychologists have come to understand grief can cause us to lose our sense of identity. Maybe that’s a good thing, at least temporarily. Maybe we need to no longer live and process life in the old way in order to fully grieve. Grief can then become the unknown where all is possible. This is where I can meet my mother again. Free from the old stories, perhaps we can meet as though for the first time, perhaps where we first met, in the cosmos, in the swirl and pulse of Life before time and story made us.