The Adventure has led me here to St. Petersburg as I pursue my passion for the hoop and all it has to offer me, as well as the world. I have been assisting Abby in many Hoola Monster endeavors, such as Saturday morning markets, classes, workshops, and my favorite things so far, charity based events. Out of all of the events I have participated in, there is one that is calling me to share with all of you.
There is a home for girls called Brookwood. These girls are 12-18 in age, and are in this home for various reasons. Perhaps they have been schlepped from foster home to foster home, with no success for adoption. Maybe they were taken away from their families due to abuse, neglect, or legal causes. I do not know why any of these girls at such a vulnerable age are living at Brookwood, as opposed to living in warm, nurturing, loving households. All the same, I am blessed to have been able to be able to be a part of a an hour long workshop that facilitated smiles on faces that most likely are turned downward daily, looking at the ground, feeling like there is no reason to look up.
When we arrived the girls who greeted us looked at us like we were slightly crazy. I’m used to this, actually. For me, having hoops on my shoulder is totally natural, like a fifth appendage. I don’t even think about what it might look like to someone else. So when these girls saw us coming with 45 brightly colored hoops wearing tanks sporting the Hoola Monsters logo and smiles from ear to ear, they were basically wondering “What the F*#@?!” They helped us carry our things inside, but under their breath were mumbling about how they were certainly not going to participate in something as stupid and silly as this, they were not about to exercise, and certainly didn’t want to do anything fun. One girl, when I mentioned Hoop Dance being super-fun, said ‘I don’t have fun. And I definitely don’t dance’. I just smiled on the outside, but my heart was breaking.
Most of the girls were still asleep when were ready to start. A couple of the girls, one named Tori in particular, were seriously excited. She went to go wake up the other girls, enthusiastic about the pink hoop she had already claimed as hers for the day. Abby and I turned on some music and danced away while more girls trickled in. I could tell they were impressed and intrigued. It showed they wanted to be a part of this. I could also tell by the expressions on their faces that they had not had this kind of fun before. I could tell that our appearance (fit, smiley, skilled attractive females) intimidated them. These girls seemed rough and tough, so for something that was on the opposite end of the spectrum of rough and tough to intimidate them had to be uncomfortable. There were a handful of girls that picked up hoops and started hooping and smiling right away. Thank goodness that joy is contagious! More and more girls started picking up hoops and giving it a try. There were a few who didn’t get it right away and left. Hopefully they will find time to pick up the hoop we left behind and try it again. A few of the girls, who in the beginning were just observing and refused to participate, finally got up and let loose. They were having such a good time. I could tell it had been a long while since they shared laughter and love like that with anyone.
As Abby was instructing, I was walking around helping each girl if she had any questions or needed help. I came to Tori, who had tears and frustration in her eyes. She wasn’t getting it. She was feeling like a failure. After a little while of doing my best to communicate the tricks and moves in different ways, she still was having trouble. She sat out for a while. I said a silent prayer, sending her love and encouragement.
After a while it was time for the jam circle. The jam circle is a staple of every hoop class Abby teaches. It is a time for all the participates to gather in a circle, each one getting time to be in the middle of the circle and jam out, while the outside of the circle cheers and claps, supportive of the dancer in the middle. I could see fear on Tori’s face. She wanted to participate, but she was afraid she wouldn’t be able to do the things we had learned. I told her to do whatever she wanted in the middle of that circle. I told her there we no rules to hoop dancing, and she could express herself any way she wanted with the hoop. ‘How long can I stay in the middle and dance?’ she asked. “As long as you want”, I said encouragingly, and with a smile. Tori was the first one to dance in the circle, eager and excited. She did some super cool, amazing moves that we hadn’t gone over, and everyone loved it. She stepped out of the middle with a smile so big it brought tears to my eyes. Tori had a powerful affect on me. She affirmed for me that when all else fails, do it your way. Be you! Thank you to Tori, wise in her 16 years of existence.
When Abby and I concluded the workshop, girls were begging us to stay longer, to come back, to leave all of the hoops, and telling us how much fun they had. These were the same girls who despised the very idea of hoop dancing only an hour earlier. It was a transformation incomparable to anything I’ve ever seen. There were girls who were teary-eyed asking us to please come do birthday parties for their little siblings and parents who they hadn’t seen in a long time. They wanted to spread the hoop love to the people that they loved. This expanded my heart on a profound level. By being who I am, I am changing lives and making a difference, making someone’s day brighter and replacing frowns with smiles. One beautiful girl, named Leah, even asked for my autograph. She asked me to sign a business card I gave her. That took my breath away. It is amazing the effect one can have by sharing a passion. As humans, we are who we are, and it may never be revealed to us in our human form the effect we have on those around us. Our actions and words are so powerful, and the girls at Brookwood reminded me of this important Truth. It was so rewarding for me to watch these girls dance and smile, engage with each other, encourage each other, play with each other, and thrive despite their destitute and discouraging situations. I am so blessed. So, so, so blessed to have the awareness I have and it is my duty that I lovingly take on to share it with everyone, even those that have fallen through the cracks of society’s broken foundation. I realized how much light I have to spread and share, and the hoop has been a tool that has enabled me to do that. This experience, The Brookwood Blessing, allowed me to remember that Spirit has given me many gifts and talents to share with others, and I vow not to waste this. I am of service to my fellow sisters and brothers, and so happy to be! Thank you, wonderful young women of Brookwood, for mirroring for me how love looks in all forms.
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Wild, Wonderful West Virginia
I have not written in some time. I had so many profound experiences during my time in West Virginia, one right after the other, that I needed time to process and analyze. I am still sifting through each moment, realizing each day what a magical adventure I was gifted in the lush land of mountains and rivers.
My intention is still the same, though my path has led to me wonders unexpected. I went to this place to seek truth and embrace the unknown. I had such a rapid spiritual growth spurt. Each day I was challenged to truly be myself and connect with the unfamiliar. As I connected to the unfamiliar, it became very familiar, and I unveiled one little bit of my authenticity at a time. I grew up in suburbia, eating processed food and watching TV. I have since altered my diet to be far more conscious and haven’t own a TV or a microwave in three years. Kudos to me, but living the way these locals did opened my eyes and my mind to a truly conscious way of living.
I ate meals prepared almost entirely out of organic produce from backyards and local farms. I shared meals with families and friends. The consumption of this delicious food was always accompanied with delightful company and jovial conversation. Everyone was family. This community of people is so special and connected to the very source that brings us together; Love. A lot of people I stayed with ran there homes with no electricity, just a generator, primarily used for use of wood working shops or other crafts. Oil lamps at night ☺ Out-houses, self-composting toilets, and the good ole’ woods became my bathroom. It impacted me. I realize how many gallons of water I’ve wasted by just flushing a little pee and a measly few squares of Charmin down the toilet. I prefer the woods to be honest. I like peeing outside. I’ll do it for me, and for my Momma Earth! Watching how blissful these people were in the self-sustainable environments they cultivated was truly inspiring and has moved me into action. This is a blessing.
One morning I woke up and picked fresh blackberries right off the bush and cooked them in oatmeal on a wood-burning stove. It was the most delicious breakfast I have ever tasted. I look at food differently now. I will do my best to support local farmer’s markets and continue to learn about self-sustenance. I admire so much the way these people share everything with each other. I was so blessed to be a part of the Lewisburg Farmer’s Market every Saturday morning. I danced away with my hoops, played with the children, proved to ladies my senior that they can still hula hoop, sold some hoops, and found myself totally in awe of the beautiful connectedness I was witnessing. The baker sold bread; the farmers sold their meats, produce, and eggs. There were homemade herb tinctures and teas, flowers, fruits, soaps, salves, and spices. They accepted and embraced me, and I them. We all shared our selves and our offerings. I will hold this in my heart forever. They were so grateful that I brought such colorful hues and vitality to the market. I was equally grateful that I could just show up and be a part of something so magical. Support Local Farms! Seriously. No farm, No food. I realize this more and more each day as I eat food that is not grown locally that it makes a difference in my body and my consciousness. Local Famer’s Markets are not everywhere, so that means that we need to be our own farmer’s, grow our own food, and sustain ourselves, so that we no longer need to relay on corporate super markets to supply us with food. Not only is food fresh from the land better for you and far tastier, it is the ‘green’ solution both environmentally and financially.
There was so much country to discover there. The Greenbrier River was magical. I hooped with women and children of all ages at a righteous swimming hole known as Blue Bend. I bathed bare skinned in the sun with my Sister Susan at Cat’s Eye, my personal spiritual spot on the River. I found many spots on the river where I was completely alone with the earth and let her embrace me wholly. Many tears and fears were release into the river rocks of the Greenbrier. I swam with no suit. I sung to the trees. I pretended I was a cat and tried to catch brook trout with my hands. It is amazing what freedom one can experience with the combination of the natural world and imagination. This is why I honor the children.
I white-water rafted down the New River, known for its Class 5 rapids. That was an intense experience. Not only were the rapids demanding of respect and focus, but the visual intake itself was life changing. The sunlight danced across the water and through the leaves of the trees. I charged the rapids with the same intensity they charged in me. Susan was with me as well, and we found ourselves immersed in the magnificence of the river. Together, we shared some intense breakthroughs. As we acknowledged the healing that was taking place the earth spoke to us through the animal kingdom. A bright yellow and black butterfly with the most unique markings made its presence well known to the two of us. I instinctively knew it was dying. We connected with this butterfly on the bank of the New River gorge, honoring its message that this was a time of transformative, cyclical change. The beautiful insect did die, in our presence, gifting us with the most glorious part of its three-phase life; it’s conscious death. It allowed me to remember that all that is, even the beauty, passes on and changes form. Be like the river, the butterfly said. Cut your own path; meander your way down the mountain and to The Source. Flow. Flow. Flow.
I took many hikes and spent time on peaks and in valleys. The view is just as awesome from the bottom as it is at the top. The mountains were great teachers, as I learned that it is perfectly all right to spend time in the womb of the valley, as well as the accomplished glory of reaching the mountains peak. This is a metaphor for life, as we all wind our way around the world.
I thought I was going to travel westward from the Appalachians to the Pacific and regal Redwoods. This is still my goal, and after some blatant signs from Spirit I realized it would require some patience. Noah and I realized it would be best to entertain a friendship as opposed to a partnership, and went our separate ways. I decided to leave WV and travel back down the east coast to reconnect with loved ones and pursue my passion to be a performance artist. I am now living in St. Petersburg, FL with my radiant sunbeam of a Soul Sister, Abby. She is the founder and president of The Hoola Monsters, my new hoop troupe family. I am so stoked to be here doing exactly what it is that I love, with people I love, who love doing the same thing I love to do; hoop! I am also exploring other Flow Tools such as poi and rekindling my relationship with belly dance. I am so grateful! Abby and I have such an open and honest connection and I am learning and growing by leaps and bounds with her as a teacher, mentor, and fellow artist. Her passion for Hoop Dance has catalyzed me into wanting to be the best I can be, not just inside the hoop, but also in all areas of life. She understands, respects, and supports my goals to travel to California, Maui, and The World. She teaches me the ins and outs of how to ask for what I am worthy of receiving. We encourage and motivate each other in so many amazing ways. It will be a partnership filled with opportunities to learn and grow and I could not ask for anything else <3
This is totally different from the plan I had when I left Florida almost five months ago and, wow! I am so grateful that I followed my heart and it led me to this amazing opportunity to be the Artist I have always dreamed of being. West Virginia sparked something inside of me that I can only describe as Wild and Wonderful, just like the state itself. Wild and Wonderful isn’t just the state of West Virginia, it is now my state of mind. There will never be enough words to express my gratitude for the people and places of this place. I honor every single second spent in the humble home of my very dear friend and Soul Sister Serah Morningstar, as well as the homes and company of her sensational siblings: Mary, Faith, Anastasia, Zeke, Jeremiah, and of course Noah, who helped me feel at home in every situation. Also, it was a pleasure to share my writing, wine, and dinners with the father of all of the wonderful children, Larry, who bestowed much wisdom and insight. Serah’s children were also amazing teacher and friends. Kiah (10) and Suzanna (15) grew so dear to my heart and there is where they will always remain.
There is so much I could say, and so many more blogs to be written of this place. To be continued… ☺ Ciao for now! Gratitude & Blessings <3
My intention is still the same, though my path has led to me wonders unexpected. I went to this place to seek truth and embrace the unknown. I had such a rapid spiritual growth spurt. Each day I was challenged to truly be myself and connect with the unfamiliar. As I connected to the unfamiliar, it became very familiar, and I unveiled one little bit of my authenticity at a time. I grew up in suburbia, eating processed food and watching TV. I have since altered my diet to be far more conscious and haven’t own a TV or a microwave in three years. Kudos to me, but living the way these locals did opened my eyes and my mind to a truly conscious way of living.
I ate meals prepared almost entirely out of organic produce from backyards and local farms. I shared meals with families and friends. The consumption of this delicious food was always accompanied with delightful company and jovial conversation. Everyone was family. This community of people is so special and connected to the very source that brings us together; Love. A lot of people I stayed with ran there homes with no electricity, just a generator, primarily used for use of wood working shops or other crafts. Oil lamps at night ☺ Out-houses, self-composting toilets, and the good ole’ woods became my bathroom. It impacted me. I realize how many gallons of water I’ve wasted by just flushing a little pee and a measly few squares of Charmin down the toilet. I prefer the woods to be honest. I like peeing outside. I’ll do it for me, and for my Momma Earth! Watching how blissful these people were in the self-sustainable environments they cultivated was truly inspiring and has moved me into action. This is a blessing.
One morning I woke up and picked fresh blackberries right off the bush and cooked them in oatmeal on a wood-burning stove. It was the most delicious breakfast I have ever tasted. I look at food differently now. I will do my best to support local farmer’s markets and continue to learn about self-sustenance. I admire so much the way these people share everything with each other. I was so blessed to be a part of the Lewisburg Farmer’s Market every Saturday morning. I danced away with my hoops, played with the children, proved to ladies my senior that they can still hula hoop, sold some hoops, and found myself totally in awe of the beautiful connectedness I was witnessing. The baker sold bread; the farmers sold their meats, produce, and eggs. There were homemade herb tinctures and teas, flowers, fruits, soaps, salves, and spices. They accepted and embraced me, and I them. We all shared our selves and our offerings. I will hold this in my heart forever. They were so grateful that I brought such colorful hues and vitality to the market. I was equally grateful that I could just show up and be a part of something so magical. Support Local Farms! Seriously. No farm, No food. I realize this more and more each day as I eat food that is not grown locally that it makes a difference in my body and my consciousness. Local Famer’s Markets are not everywhere, so that means that we need to be our own farmer’s, grow our own food, and sustain ourselves, so that we no longer need to relay on corporate super markets to supply us with food. Not only is food fresh from the land better for you and far tastier, it is the ‘green’ solution both environmentally and financially.
There was so much country to discover there. The Greenbrier River was magical. I hooped with women and children of all ages at a righteous swimming hole known as Blue Bend. I bathed bare skinned in the sun with my Sister Susan at Cat’s Eye, my personal spiritual spot on the River. I found many spots on the river where I was completely alone with the earth and let her embrace me wholly. Many tears and fears were release into the river rocks of the Greenbrier. I swam with no suit. I sung to the trees. I pretended I was a cat and tried to catch brook trout with my hands. It is amazing what freedom one can experience with the combination of the natural world and imagination. This is why I honor the children.
I white-water rafted down the New River, known for its Class 5 rapids. That was an intense experience. Not only were the rapids demanding of respect and focus, but the visual intake itself was life changing. The sunlight danced across the water and through the leaves of the trees. I charged the rapids with the same intensity they charged in me. Susan was with me as well, and we found ourselves immersed in the magnificence of the river. Together, we shared some intense breakthroughs. As we acknowledged the healing that was taking place the earth spoke to us through the animal kingdom. A bright yellow and black butterfly with the most unique markings made its presence well known to the two of us. I instinctively knew it was dying. We connected with this butterfly on the bank of the New River gorge, honoring its message that this was a time of transformative, cyclical change. The beautiful insect did die, in our presence, gifting us with the most glorious part of its three-phase life; it’s conscious death. It allowed me to remember that all that is, even the beauty, passes on and changes form. Be like the river, the butterfly said. Cut your own path; meander your way down the mountain and to The Source. Flow. Flow. Flow.
I took many hikes and spent time on peaks and in valleys. The view is just as awesome from the bottom as it is at the top. The mountains were great teachers, as I learned that it is perfectly all right to spend time in the womb of the valley, as well as the accomplished glory of reaching the mountains peak. This is a metaphor for life, as we all wind our way around the world.
I thought I was going to travel westward from the Appalachians to the Pacific and regal Redwoods. This is still my goal, and after some blatant signs from Spirit I realized it would require some patience. Noah and I realized it would be best to entertain a friendship as opposed to a partnership, and went our separate ways. I decided to leave WV and travel back down the east coast to reconnect with loved ones and pursue my passion to be a performance artist. I am now living in St. Petersburg, FL with my radiant sunbeam of a Soul Sister, Abby. She is the founder and president of The Hoola Monsters, my new hoop troupe family. I am so stoked to be here doing exactly what it is that I love, with people I love, who love doing the same thing I love to do; hoop! I am also exploring other Flow Tools such as poi and rekindling my relationship with belly dance. I am so grateful! Abby and I have such an open and honest connection and I am learning and growing by leaps and bounds with her as a teacher, mentor, and fellow artist. Her passion for Hoop Dance has catalyzed me into wanting to be the best I can be, not just inside the hoop, but also in all areas of life. She understands, respects, and supports my goals to travel to California, Maui, and The World. She teaches me the ins and outs of how to ask for what I am worthy of receiving. We encourage and motivate each other in so many amazing ways. It will be a partnership filled with opportunities to learn and grow and I could not ask for anything else <3
This is totally different from the plan I had when I left Florida almost five months ago and, wow! I am so grateful that I followed my heart and it led me to this amazing opportunity to be the Artist I have always dreamed of being. West Virginia sparked something inside of me that I can only describe as Wild and Wonderful, just like the state itself. Wild and Wonderful isn’t just the state of West Virginia, it is now my state of mind. There will never be enough words to express my gratitude for the people and places of this place. I honor every single second spent in the humble home of my very dear friend and Soul Sister Serah Morningstar, as well as the homes and company of her sensational siblings: Mary, Faith, Anastasia, Zeke, Jeremiah, and of course Noah, who helped me feel at home in every situation. Also, it was a pleasure to share my writing, wine, and dinners with the father of all of the wonderful children, Larry, who bestowed much wisdom and insight. Serah’s children were also amazing teacher and friends. Kiah (10) and Suzanna (15) grew so dear to my heart and there is where they will always remain.
There is so much I could say, and so many more blogs to be written of this place. To be continued… ☺ Ciao for now! Gratitude & Blessings <3
Full Circle: Reflections From The Third Ring
Note To Reader: I wrote this in June. I found it recently and realized the importance of posting it. Forgive the delay, and enjoy the day!
HPIII- My Creativity Comes Full Circle
I am simply spilling over with Love. As I write, my mind is struggling with my heart to express the appropriate words. “Love, enlightenment, perfection!", screams my psyche. “Cliché”, my heart responds. So this is my best effort to document the transcendence that I experienced with 140+ others at The HoopPath Retreat 2009. (Also known as HPIII!)
I am a part of the Third Ring. This is the third year that Bax and Ann have envisioned and delivered this amazing gathering. (The first year attendees are the First Ring, second year Second Ring, you get the idea...) It started with the tastiest Welcome I have ever experienced. The adventure began in a lovely spot in the wise hills of North Carolina called Snipe’s Farm. The grass was lush and green, the barbeque perfectly tangy, the tea sweet and southern, and the company incomparable. The Meet-Greet-N-Eat was full of life as hoopers from around the county converged and felt the energy of the coming days. The Flowcase was the most super-righteous performance I have every witnessed. Laurie graced us with the beauty of the Goddess, Ann and Beth with their Angelic voices, Cassandra with rhythmic rhymes, and of course, there were some of the most amazingly talented hoopers of our time performing their hearts out. Spiral made cameo appearance and blessed us with the Divinity that is her performance. Miss Rosie livened the crowd with a rockin’ Shamanic cheer. “If you want to be enlightened then you’ve got to lighten up! Relax, chill out, be here, NOW!” Christabel moved with authentic grace as she opened her heart and danced outside of her hoop for just as much of the performance as she did inside of her hoop. She actually kissed her hoop. It was a beautiful public display of affection for this tool that we all use to get higher. I loved her music. Tina Malia’s ‘Sound of the River’, was the song. It’s an amazing album that I also love to groove to. I could have left after the first night and been completely full, happy, and full of hoop love. Three more days of this? I am in heaven <3
Friday through Monday is all still swirling around in my head. During the orientation we were split up into Mini Tribes. The tribes were composed of the people you were staying with plus some others. My mini tribe rocked so hardcore. I stayed with a super cool guy named Vaughn. When I arrived at Vaughn’s house, a family of deer and the most charming mountain house I’ve ever seen greeted me. I walked inside and Vaughn was busy making ice cream. I’ll be blunt; his homemade butter pecan aroused me it was so friggin’ tasty! Anyway…
The house was amazing. Jess and Emily had already arrived and picked their sleeping spots. I was left with this cute and cozy loft that I shared with some hanging plants and a bamboo tree trunk. Perfect ☺ I had never met Vaughn or Emily or Jessica. Emily was from Richmond, VA and had a flight time (hoop experience) of 1.5 years. Jess was from Arlington, TX and has been hooping for 8 months. Both of these women were so beautiful in their own right, and are officially my sisters. Together, Me-Vaughn-Emily-and Jessica formed Camp Ice. And a lovely quadrangle we were!
At orientation we were paired up with the rest of our mini tribe. There was Gina from Columbia, SC (synchronicity!) Kelly from Winston-Salem, NC, & Kathleen from Maryland. Together, we formed the Sacred Seven. We shared our stories, some laughter and some tears. Each mini tribe was given the task of creating something to burn as a group at the Kava Fire Ceremony that would be held the following evening. We met up a couple more times and together created the most beautiful offering. Jess taught us how to make paper cranes. We wrote on the inside of the cranes all of the aspects and virtues we loved and accepted about ourselves, along with things we wanted to embrace but had not yet. On the outside of the cranes we wrote all that we wanted to release into the fire, for those aspects we felt did not serve us anymore. Then we made one big huge crane and as a group wrote on that one in the same style. On one side of the crane all that we embraced: our bodies, sharp minds, elevated consciousness, self-love, patience, acceptance, and trust to name a few. On the other side all that we burn in love: guilt, shame, attachment, image, false truths, distractive and abusive thoughts, and anger were definitely all on there. We attached the big momma crane to a stick and hung all of our baby cranes underneath her. Gina started a piece of writing, and asked me to finish it. I was honored. She is a beautiful writer and inspired me to take mine to the next level. Together we wrote a magnificent piece of writing that conveyed the united purpose of each tribe member. We gathered our hoops, and headed to the Fire Ceremony, being held at Beth’s, on the Summer Solstice, exactly one year to the day that I picked up a hoop for the first time. It is amazing that at a Summer Solstice Fire Ceremony in 2008 I saw and honored the hoop for the first time, and one year later I am here, at the Hoop Path Retreat, inundated and overflowing with love an gratitude that I am in the presence of so many amazing, beautiful, connected individuals with this magical ring being the connecting link.
The Ceremony moved me beyond words. Each group individually, uniquely, and with gratitude presented their offerings to the fire. There was laughter and tears, poetry and song, dance and drums, and the eternal rhythm of Life was so strong in presence. Bax honored a former Hoop Path family member that had passed recently and suddenly. His name was Kevin. As we were holding silence for Kevin, a baby that had been nestled quietly against his mother’s bosom, started to coo and cry. It was the most beautiful sound, at the most beautiful moment. In remembrance of a life lost, we were so divinely reminded of the life that is here, now, new and blessed. Tears streamed from my eyes in immense gratitude for all of the Love I could feel flowing through every single cell of every single being in the circle, and in the World.
The Workshops. Wow, the workshops. It is hard to describe the teachings of Jonathan Baxter. Let me set the scene…
We sit in a circle. No hoops. Just us. Bax begins to speak about the idea of Image and Appearance. This set the tone for the rest of the Retreat. We must learn to drop the image, the ideas, the appearance of what we look like, Bax preaches. It is not about what we look like inside or outside of the hoop. It doesn’t matter what we look like, but what we feel like. After some deep philosophical teachings and references to Bax’s unique mythological Maidan, we reflect, and then begin our practice. We go blind. This means we hoop blindfolded. Like Bax says, no sight, just feeling. As we are in our own darkness, all you can hear is deep bass and rhythm from Paris (super-conscious hip-hop) and Bax guiding you through the movements. ‘It’s Ok. It’s Ok. It’s Ok. Unlock. Unlock. Unlock. You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.’ As Bax speaks his mantras in threes, the energy in the room is palpable. Though we can’t see each other or our tools, all of us ‘Hoopers’ certainly feel connected, conscious, and creative in these workshops. I was so excited to take Ann’s workshops. Ann is Bax’s long-term partner and hoop phenom. I have such an inclination for the technique that Ann has so gracefully practiced and wanted to share: Sustained Spinning. I resonated with all she said and at the end of the workshop when it was time to just spin away I found myself inside of the universe, all things physical faded away, and I was at one with myself and all creation. I had so many major, huge, life-changing, mind-elevating experiences at these workshops that I will remain grateful for the rest of my days.
Hoop Church. What? Yes, Hoop Church my friends. Bax, like myself, is a preacher’s kid. His father was a Methodist Minister and his mother, a Quaker. In a Quaker worship setting, there is silence until The Spirit moves someone to speak. This was the premise for Hoop Church. We walked into the gym in silence. This in itself was amazing to me, over a hundred people gathered without speaking. Bax held up signs he had hand written expressing his gratitude that we were there with him and how much he loved us. As we spun and hooped to amazing music, I cried inside my blindfold tears of gratitude and transformation. It was the most moving experience of the weekend for me. I have few words to truly describe the way I was broken down and rebuilt into a more supreme being in those short hours of Hoop Church.
The Hoopers Ball was the big Finale of the retreat. Everyone came dressed to the nines. If you aren’t familiar with the super-cool-awesome-Burner-style of dress, you should totally check out some pictures of this amazing experience. I had so much fun watching everyone hoop in such awesome get-ups! It was a blast. Then we all gathered for drinks and much appreciated social time together. SO MUCH FUN ☺!
My Experience at HPIII is one that I will hold in my heart forever more. I am so honored that within one year of picking up my hoop I was able to be in the presence of such conscious and connected Hoopers. To Bax, Ann, Beth, Vaughn, Mary and ALL of the Hoop Path and the beautiful, self- sustainable town of Carrboro, NC- THANK YOU. I can close with only those words. Thank you, thank you…thank you. It was so nice I must say it thrice <3
HPIII- My Creativity Comes Full Circle
I am simply spilling over with Love. As I write, my mind is struggling with my heart to express the appropriate words. “Love, enlightenment, perfection!", screams my psyche. “Cliché”, my heart responds. So this is my best effort to document the transcendence that I experienced with 140+ others at The HoopPath Retreat 2009. (Also known as HPIII!)
I am a part of the Third Ring. This is the third year that Bax and Ann have envisioned and delivered this amazing gathering. (The first year attendees are the First Ring, second year Second Ring, you get the idea...) It started with the tastiest Welcome I have ever experienced. The adventure began in a lovely spot in the wise hills of North Carolina called Snipe’s Farm. The grass was lush and green, the barbeque perfectly tangy, the tea sweet and southern, and the company incomparable. The Meet-Greet-N-Eat was full of life as hoopers from around the county converged and felt the energy of the coming days. The Flowcase was the most super-righteous performance I have every witnessed. Laurie graced us with the beauty of the Goddess, Ann and Beth with their Angelic voices, Cassandra with rhythmic rhymes, and of course, there were some of the most amazingly talented hoopers of our time performing their hearts out. Spiral made cameo appearance and blessed us with the Divinity that is her performance. Miss Rosie livened the crowd with a rockin’ Shamanic cheer. “If you want to be enlightened then you’ve got to lighten up! Relax, chill out, be here, NOW!” Christabel moved with authentic grace as she opened her heart and danced outside of her hoop for just as much of the performance as she did inside of her hoop. She actually kissed her hoop. It was a beautiful public display of affection for this tool that we all use to get higher. I loved her music. Tina Malia’s ‘Sound of the River’, was the song. It’s an amazing album that I also love to groove to. I could have left after the first night and been completely full, happy, and full of hoop love. Three more days of this? I am in heaven <3
Friday through Monday is all still swirling around in my head. During the orientation we were split up into Mini Tribes. The tribes were composed of the people you were staying with plus some others. My mini tribe rocked so hardcore. I stayed with a super cool guy named Vaughn. When I arrived at Vaughn’s house, a family of deer and the most charming mountain house I’ve ever seen greeted me. I walked inside and Vaughn was busy making ice cream. I’ll be blunt; his homemade butter pecan aroused me it was so friggin’ tasty! Anyway…
The house was amazing. Jess and Emily had already arrived and picked their sleeping spots. I was left with this cute and cozy loft that I shared with some hanging plants and a bamboo tree trunk. Perfect ☺ I had never met Vaughn or Emily or Jessica. Emily was from Richmond, VA and had a flight time (hoop experience) of 1.5 years. Jess was from Arlington, TX and has been hooping for 8 months. Both of these women were so beautiful in their own right, and are officially my sisters. Together, Me-Vaughn-Emily-and Jessica formed Camp Ice. And a lovely quadrangle we were!
At orientation we were paired up with the rest of our mini tribe. There was Gina from Columbia, SC (synchronicity!) Kelly from Winston-Salem, NC, & Kathleen from Maryland. Together, we formed the Sacred Seven. We shared our stories, some laughter and some tears. Each mini tribe was given the task of creating something to burn as a group at the Kava Fire Ceremony that would be held the following evening. We met up a couple more times and together created the most beautiful offering. Jess taught us how to make paper cranes. We wrote on the inside of the cranes all of the aspects and virtues we loved and accepted about ourselves, along with things we wanted to embrace but had not yet. On the outside of the cranes we wrote all that we wanted to release into the fire, for those aspects we felt did not serve us anymore. Then we made one big huge crane and as a group wrote on that one in the same style. On one side of the crane all that we embraced: our bodies, sharp minds, elevated consciousness, self-love, patience, acceptance, and trust to name a few. On the other side all that we burn in love: guilt, shame, attachment, image, false truths, distractive and abusive thoughts, and anger were definitely all on there. We attached the big momma crane to a stick and hung all of our baby cranes underneath her. Gina started a piece of writing, and asked me to finish it. I was honored. She is a beautiful writer and inspired me to take mine to the next level. Together we wrote a magnificent piece of writing that conveyed the united purpose of each tribe member. We gathered our hoops, and headed to the Fire Ceremony, being held at Beth’s, on the Summer Solstice, exactly one year to the day that I picked up a hoop for the first time. It is amazing that at a Summer Solstice Fire Ceremony in 2008 I saw and honored the hoop for the first time, and one year later I am here, at the Hoop Path Retreat, inundated and overflowing with love an gratitude that I am in the presence of so many amazing, beautiful, connected individuals with this magical ring being the connecting link.
The Ceremony moved me beyond words. Each group individually, uniquely, and with gratitude presented their offerings to the fire. There was laughter and tears, poetry and song, dance and drums, and the eternal rhythm of Life was so strong in presence. Bax honored a former Hoop Path family member that had passed recently and suddenly. His name was Kevin. As we were holding silence for Kevin, a baby that had been nestled quietly against his mother’s bosom, started to coo and cry. It was the most beautiful sound, at the most beautiful moment. In remembrance of a life lost, we were so divinely reminded of the life that is here, now, new and blessed. Tears streamed from my eyes in immense gratitude for all of the Love I could feel flowing through every single cell of every single being in the circle, and in the World.
The Workshops. Wow, the workshops. It is hard to describe the teachings of Jonathan Baxter. Let me set the scene…
We sit in a circle. No hoops. Just us. Bax begins to speak about the idea of Image and Appearance. This set the tone for the rest of the Retreat. We must learn to drop the image, the ideas, the appearance of what we look like, Bax preaches. It is not about what we look like inside or outside of the hoop. It doesn’t matter what we look like, but what we feel like. After some deep philosophical teachings and references to Bax’s unique mythological Maidan, we reflect, and then begin our practice. We go blind. This means we hoop blindfolded. Like Bax says, no sight, just feeling. As we are in our own darkness, all you can hear is deep bass and rhythm from Paris (super-conscious hip-hop) and Bax guiding you through the movements. ‘It’s Ok. It’s Ok. It’s Ok. Unlock. Unlock. Unlock. You are loved. You are loved. You are loved.’ As Bax speaks his mantras in threes, the energy in the room is palpable. Though we can’t see each other or our tools, all of us ‘Hoopers’ certainly feel connected, conscious, and creative in these workshops. I was so excited to take Ann’s workshops. Ann is Bax’s long-term partner and hoop phenom. I have such an inclination for the technique that Ann has so gracefully practiced and wanted to share: Sustained Spinning. I resonated with all she said and at the end of the workshop when it was time to just spin away I found myself inside of the universe, all things physical faded away, and I was at one with myself and all creation. I had so many major, huge, life-changing, mind-elevating experiences at these workshops that I will remain grateful for the rest of my days.
Hoop Church. What? Yes, Hoop Church my friends. Bax, like myself, is a preacher’s kid. His father was a Methodist Minister and his mother, a Quaker. In a Quaker worship setting, there is silence until The Spirit moves someone to speak. This was the premise for Hoop Church. We walked into the gym in silence. This in itself was amazing to me, over a hundred people gathered without speaking. Bax held up signs he had hand written expressing his gratitude that we were there with him and how much he loved us. As we spun and hooped to amazing music, I cried inside my blindfold tears of gratitude and transformation. It was the most moving experience of the weekend for me. I have few words to truly describe the way I was broken down and rebuilt into a more supreme being in those short hours of Hoop Church.
The Hoopers Ball was the big Finale of the retreat. Everyone came dressed to the nines. If you aren’t familiar with the super-cool-awesome-Burner-style of dress, you should totally check out some pictures of this amazing experience. I had so much fun watching everyone hoop in such awesome get-ups! It was a blast. Then we all gathered for drinks and much appreciated social time together. SO MUCH FUN ☺!
My Experience at HPIII is one that I will hold in my heart forever more. I am so honored that within one year of picking up my hoop I was able to be in the presence of such conscious and connected Hoopers. To Bax, Ann, Beth, Vaughn, Mary and ALL of the Hoop Path and the beautiful, self- sustainable town of Carrboro, NC- THANK YOU. I can close with only those words. Thank you, thank you…thank you. It was so nice I must say it thrice <3
Monday, July 27, 2009
Sheila Strikes Back
Remember the famous seen from Poltergeist when little, blond Carol Anne turns from the static and snow speckled TV screen and says, "They're baaaack..."? Well, when it comes to that scene in The Shellie Show... She's back. The ghost. The shadow. The Sheila. That's right. The little bitch has reared her ugly head. It's like cancer that goes into remission and then comes back four years later as stage 5 terminal. It's like the alcoholic falling off the wagon after a four year sobriety. It's gaining back the 50 pounds you were so proud you lost. It's devastating. Sheila, for those of you who may not be familiar with this entity, is my (alter) ego, my head, my raging river of a mind, my little cherry red, shoulder-sitting-devil, complete with horns, pitch fork and evil smirk. Sheila is Satan. She must die. I will love her to death, literally.
I am having a hard time with this. I thought I was "better". I thought I had this "manic/depressive" stuff under control. I thought I figured out how to always be happy. I thought. I thought. I thought. Ah, there's the problem. I let my thoughts take control. That is Sheila's fuel. Thought. Random, errant, flippant words running around inside. She feeds on the Negative. The Real Shellie has valuable knowledge, though. It's powerful. This knowledge is the weapon that will hold the line, and hold Sheila at bay. The knowledge is...Thoughts are like pets. They are trainable. If you let something slide, the thought creates it own reality. Usually one filled with doubt, fear, assumptions, personal gain, and self-sabotage. If you catch it in the moment with simple acknowledgment and replace it with something purposeful,you create your own reality. I was lazy about monitoring them. I got confused, and thought thinking about my thoughts would do me some good. My mind has become convoluted with to do's,future, past and the like. Time to sweep up shop. It's best to do this job in full. Get under the rug, find the tumble weeds in the corners, wipe the base boards and then mop with a a solution of 100 parts bleach and 1 part water. No spec of fear based thought form will survive. This translates spiritually into 90 minutes of hot yoga twice a week, uncountable hours of flight time in the hoop, solitude in nature, receiving and giving bodywork, meditation, being conscious of my eating, finding gratitude for the most minuscule of gifts and trusting all the while.
Sheila takes many forms. And, boy, is she crafty. In her dormancy she was plotting a strategic game. She has learned how to change forms. The last time I encountered Sheila she was a feisty word-smith, with a sharp tongue and slightly violent tendencies. I overcame this by honoring its purpose and simply deciding it didn't serve me anymore. Instead of hurling cell-phones at faces, I did my best to take a deep breath instead. This took practice. A LOT of practice. Busting lips doesn't work. Taking your own personal time out does. Sheila is super-powerful, I won't deny this. But she underestimates the power of The Source. This Source is My Source. When I finally decide to make a change and call on Source, and my intention is fueled by love for all of humanity, love for the earth, and curiosity for all of the unseen universal truths I have yet to experience, Sheila stands no friggin' chance. None. Zip. Zilch. She is neutralized instantly. It is a simple switch that I flip, and I am whole again, with no division, no separation. I will admit, however, that I am responsible for her return. As Gandhi says, "No one can hurt me without my permission." I am not a victim of Sheila. I have, through unconscious thinking, eating, and lack of motion, allowed her to sneak through the back door. She's back with a vengeance, attacking my confidence, authenticity, trust, belief in myself, and occasionally spewing a bit a toxicity all over those around me. She was dormant for so long, and now, after a brief break from the little ego-tripper, she's risen again, full strength. Batteries recharged. Dammit!
All is well. In honesty, this is a breakthrough. I am able to acknowledge the triggers that ignite the fire of the Sheila Beast. To be aware of the triggers is the first step to healing. Let me define the word 'trigger' via Shellie speak.
Trigger- noun. A word, person, place or experience that instantly teleports one from the present moment into a past or future based on fear. This causes a 're-action' which is usually irrational, unconscious, defensive and possibly destructive behavior. The trigger itself is often harmless. It is the perception of the 'triggered' one that creates the illusion at hand.
One day it's your mom, then your dad, then the boyfriend, then the sister or the brother or the boss or the friend or the freakish looking lady cashing you out in Wal-Mart. That's the thing about triggers. The ego (Sheila) can turn just about any Joe Schmo into someone that facilitates feeling small, silly, stupid, insecure, enraged, catty, ugly, worthless, and completely and totally insignificant. She is the master shape shifter. She is clever, but she isn't real.
I am a warrior. I have an arsenal of tools to aide in my healing conquest. I know now what I must do. I must activate my inner Alchemist. I embrace, Love and transmute Sheila and all she represents. I cannot 'beat' Sheila. I cannot 'win'. All of those concepts are ego-driven. Those concepts are based on duality, the idea that one side is better, greater, good or bad. Sheila has surfaced to teach me something. Sheila is Shellie. Shellie is Sheila. Shellie and Sheila are both just identities. Really, neither one exists. Both identities are based on a stories. My True Being is formless. No thought, no body, no-thing. This is the place where the two must meet, integrate, and become one. I am not just the dancer, I am the dance. I am not the healer, I am the healing. I am not just the human, I am the being. Simply by typing these words I can feel my chest open, my heart open, my mind open, and my breath deepen. Today, I loved myself a little more. In realizing that my shadow side is a product of Light, I expanded. In realizing that the way to dissolve the demons is to love them, I evolved. I believe that love is the tool we have been given on this planet to experience what we all ultimately desire; freedom. I love Sheila. I love Shellie. I love being able to observe both of them and how one affects the other. I love that I am unattached to both of these identities. I love that when I find myself in attachment to these identities, I suffer. I love that I acknowledge suffering as an opportunity to expand, grow, and become more aware of My Divinity. I love my thoughts, as I am NOT my thoughts. I am the one that observes, sifts through, and edits my thoughts. I love the triggers. I love You. I love. I love. I love. This is the answer. This is the affirmation. Love.
I am having a hard time with this. I thought I was "better". I thought I had this "manic/depressive" stuff under control. I thought I figured out how to always be happy. I thought. I thought. I thought. Ah, there's the problem. I let my thoughts take control. That is Sheila's fuel. Thought. Random, errant, flippant words running around inside. She feeds on the Negative. The Real Shellie has valuable knowledge, though. It's powerful. This knowledge is the weapon that will hold the line, and hold Sheila at bay. The knowledge is...Thoughts are like pets. They are trainable. If you let something slide, the thought creates it own reality. Usually one filled with doubt, fear, assumptions, personal gain, and self-sabotage. If you catch it in the moment with simple acknowledgment and replace it with something purposeful,you create your own reality. I was lazy about monitoring them. I got confused, and thought thinking about my thoughts would do me some good. My mind has become convoluted with to do's,future, past and the like. Time to sweep up shop. It's best to do this job in full. Get under the rug, find the tumble weeds in the corners, wipe the base boards and then mop with a a solution of 100 parts bleach and 1 part water. No spec of fear based thought form will survive. This translates spiritually into 90 minutes of hot yoga twice a week, uncountable hours of flight time in the hoop, solitude in nature, receiving and giving bodywork, meditation, being conscious of my eating, finding gratitude for the most minuscule of gifts and trusting all the while.
Sheila takes many forms. And, boy, is she crafty. In her dormancy she was plotting a strategic game. She has learned how to change forms. The last time I encountered Sheila she was a feisty word-smith, with a sharp tongue and slightly violent tendencies. I overcame this by honoring its purpose and simply deciding it didn't serve me anymore. Instead of hurling cell-phones at faces, I did my best to take a deep breath instead. This took practice. A LOT of practice. Busting lips doesn't work. Taking your own personal time out does. Sheila is super-powerful, I won't deny this. But she underestimates the power of The Source. This Source is My Source. When I finally decide to make a change and call on Source, and my intention is fueled by love for all of humanity, love for the earth, and curiosity for all of the unseen universal truths I have yet to experience, Sheila stands no friggin' chance. None. Zip. Zilch. She is neutralized instantly. It is a simple switch that I flip, and I am whole again, with no division, no separation. I will admit, however, that I am responsible for her return. As Gandhi says, "No one can hurt me without my permission." I am not a victim of Sheila. I have, through unconscious thinking, eating, and lack of motion, allowed her to sneak through the back door. She's back with a vengeance, attacking my confidence, authenticity, trust, belief in myself, and occasionally spewing a bit a toxicity all over those around me. She was dormant for so long, and now, after a brief break from the little ego-tripper, she's risen again, full strength. Batteries recharged. Dammit!
All is well. In honesty, this is a breakthrough. I am able to acknowledge the triggers that ignite the fire of the Sheila Beast. To be aware of the triggers is the first step to healing. Let me define the word 'trigger' via Shellie speak.
Trigger- noun. A word, person, place or experience that instantly teleports one from the present moment into a past or future based on fear. This causes a 're-action' which is usually irrational, unconscious, defensive and possibly destructive behavior. The trigger itself is often harmless. It is the perception of the 'triggered' one that creates the illusion at hand.
One day it's your mom, then your dad, then the boyfriend, then the sister or the brother or the boss or the friend or the freakish looking lady cashing you out in Wal-Mart. That's the thing about triggers. The ego (Sheila) can turn just about any Joe Schmo into someone that facilitates feeling small, silly, stupid, insecure, enraged, catty, ugly, worthless, and completely and totally insignificant. She is the master shape shifter. She is clever, but she isn't real.
I am a warrior. I have an arsenal of tools to aide in my healing conquest. I know now what I must do. I must activate my inner Alchemist. I embrace, Love and transmute Sheila and all she represents. I cannot 'beat' Sheila. I cannot 'win'. All of those concepts are ego-driven. Those concepts are based on duality, the idea that one side is better, greater, good or bad. Sheila has surfaced to teach me something. Sheila is Shellie. Shellie is Sheila. Shellie and Sheila are both just identities. Really, neither one exists. Both identities are based on a stories. My True Being is formless. No thought, no body, no-thing. This is the place where the two must meet, integrate, and become one. I am not just the dancer, I am the dance. I am not the healer, I am the healing. I am not just the human, I am the being. Simply by typing these words I can feel my chest open, my heart open, my mind open, and my breath deepen. Today, I loved myself a little more. In realizing that my shadow side is a product of Light, I expanded. In realizing that the way to dissolve the demons is to love them, I evolved. I believe that love is the tool we have been given on this planet to experience what we all ultimately desire; freedom. I love Sheila. I love Shellie. I love being able to observe both of them and how one affects the other. I love that I am unattached to both of these identities. I love that when I find myself in attachment to these identities, I suffer. I love that I acknowledge suffering as an opportunity to expand, grow, and become more aware of My Divinity. I love my thoughts, as I am NOT my thoughts. I am the one that observes, sifts through, and edits my thoughts. I love the triggers. I love You. I love. I love. I love. This is the answer. This is the affirmation. Love.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Burning Woman
The fire of the summer continues to sizzle at my soul, scorching away my ego layer by layer. Nothing has been easy. It has all been fun and in the name of love, but ease is not the case when your going up hill. It's all good, for I would rather be headed up than at the plateau. I want to peak, coast downhill, and find another mountain to explore. The thing about up hill is that is takes a while. It's tough, but the bird's eye view is worth it. It's important to be able to zoom out, eliminate the detail, and see a bigger picture. The thing about downhill is that is fun, short, easy, simple, effortless, and then over. Leaving you with a huge smile and saying "I want to do that again!". Downhill can't last as long as we might like, for that would be more like an avalanche, and you could become buried in the rubble.
The Mountain of Lewisburg, WV have been wise with their teachings.They have shown me truth. This is the real world. There is life abundant that is not human. There are winding roads that require complete alertness or you will end up 50 feet down the bank, injured and with a totaled car. I hear ambulances at least once an hour. The town is small. You must value yourself enough to know that your actions will be heard of, remembered, and repeated. I'm learning the importance of a good reputation. I've also learned that hula-hoops are in high demand here in Lewisburg! I've sold so many, and taught a class at the local yoga center. This town has really embraced me and accepted me. I am so grateful :)
Speaking of hoops , while selling hoops at the Farmer's market this past Saturday morning I met a girl named Susan who is a fire performer from Maui. Ok Spirit, the signs are clear! Susan, at the ripe age of 18, has been the catalyst to make the commitment to myself that I WILL be on Maui by December. I am going to live with my cousin Bekah sometime this fall in LA, and from there I will save as much as possible so I can be on the island as soon as possible. I am on fire. I am on fire for the fire. The nature of fire is to consume, and I am ready to direct my fire to my passion and my purpose.
Susan is bad-ass with poi. She has other super fun toys, too, like fire nun chucks and a neat little thing called 'The Zipper'. (Stay posted because I have a crush on that toy!) What I'm getting at I spun fire with Susan the other night around a camp-fire to some awesome live music (thank you Xander, Orion, and Justin of BrownChicken BrownCow String Band!) I had never spun poi before, but it felt right, it felt good, and it felt natural. I am sure of my purpose now. It is no longer a pipe dream. It is becoming real. Meeting Susan helped me realize the next step. I can't do it alone, plus I love doing things in fun groups, so it's time to find a Troupe. Cali or Maui is where I feel that will happen. So this is my mission: To dance with fire, and find other people who already dance with fire and learn as much as I can about this type of performance as well as many others.
Ok, back to the grindstone. I'm working the lunch shift at the Tavern, a local fine-dining restaurant downtown. I have to be there, like, now :) Until then, thanks again for being such a beautiful light reflecting back to me all of the love that is available to all of us all the time. You are radiant, and I love you <3
The Mountain of Lewisburg, WV have been wise with their teachings.They have shown me truth. This is the real world. There is life abundant that is not human. There are winding roads that require complete alertness or you will end up 50 feet down the bank, injured and with a totaled car. I hear ambulances at least once an hour. The town is small. You must value yourself enough to know that your actions will be heard of, remembered, and repeated. I'm learning the importance of a good reputation. I've also learned that hula-hoops are in high demand here in Lewisburg! I've sold so many, and taught a class at the local yoga center. This town has really embraced me and accepted me. I am so grateful :)
Speaking of hoops , while selling hoops at the Farmer's market this past Saturday morning I met a girl named Susan who is a fire performer from Maui. Ok Spirit, the signs are clear! Susan, at the ripe age of 18, has been the catalyst to make the commitment to myself that I WILL be on Maui by December. I am going to live with my cousin Bekah sometime this fall in LA, and from there I will save as much as possible so I can be on the island as soon as possible. I am on fire. I am on fire for the fire. The nature of fire is to consume, and I am ready to direct my fire to my passion and my purpose.
Susan is bad-ass with poi. She has other super fun toys, too, like fire nun chucks and a neat little thing called 'The Zipper'. (Stay posted because I have a crush on that toy!) What I'm getting at I spun fire with Susan the other night around a camp-fire to some awesome live music (thank you Xander, Orion, and Justin of BrownChicken BrownCow String Band!) I had never spun poi before, but it felt right, it felt good, and it felt natural. I am sure of my purpose now. It is no longer a pipe dream. It is becoming real. Meeting Susan helped me realize the next step. I can't do it alone, plus I love doing things in fun groups, so it's time to find a Troupe. Cali or Maui is where I feel that will happen. So this is my mission: To dance with fire, and find other people who already dance with fire and learn as much as I can about this type of performance as well as many others.
Ok, back to the grindstone. I'm working the lunch shift at the Tavern, a local fine-dining restaurant downtown. I have to be there, like, now :) Until then, thanks again for being such a beautiful light reflecting back to me all of the love that is available to all of us all the time. You are radiant, and I love you <3
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
The Shellie Show is On The Road! ☺
Here I am. I’m doing it; I’m actually on the journey! No furniture or job or address. I’m shit scared and so excited. It’s been three weeks but it feels like no time an entire lifetime simultaneously. To sum it all up: I left and vacationed in Edisto Beach, SC for a week with the wonderful women that are my family. It was perfect. I had an amazing experience swimming with wild dolphins and witnessed a lightening storm comparable to being directly inside the neural pathway of God’s mind. There was no expense spared in the all-natural special effects department in this episode of The Shellie Show. The beauty was so vivid and alive within me. The tone is set. I’m ready to roll.
I spent some time in Georgia with Mom and Dad. I ended up having life changing conversations with these people who I know now as humans, as well as parents. I let go of a lot of assumptions and false beliefs on who they were. This led me to so much more of myself, and I acknowledge that I have shifted now from being a child into being a woman. I am so grateful that my journey has led me to this beautiful understanding.
Onward, to Carrboro, NC. This lovely little spot is the hoop dance Mecca of the East Coast. The Hoop Path Retreat was the most profound experience I have had on my journey thus far. I am fully aware, after attending this creatively combustive event, that my purpose is to be the dancer. I will always honor this about myself. This is a gift I am so humbled and grateful to receive. Praise to Bax, Ann and the Locals for being the finest examples of goodness and grace that the hoop community knows.
The scene switches now to the majestic mountains and valleys of Lewisburg, WV.
It was wonderful to be able to appreciate this landscape on such a contrasting level. After living in flat Florida I am childlike in my curiosity to explore the trails, caves, rivers, and rocks within these mountains. My soul Sister Serah and her beautiful family have welcomed me with full hearts and open arms. I have had so many memorable experiences in such a short time. Stay tuned for some righteous pictures. I am currently in Sarasota for a few days for a visit. It feels great to be lazy in the balmy heat and to just BE. Noah’s company is also nice ☺ I really missed him for the three weeks I was bouncing around. I’ll be headed back to Lewisburg in a few days. I’ll look for massage clients, future hoopers, and uncharted terrain. I already had a river bend full of kids and adults hooping their hiney’s off up there. I hope Lewisburg is ready for the hoop, because it’s coming their way! So, I’m off into the unknown again. I have so much trust and patience in my heart right now. Thank you for supporting me on this Pilgrimage and all that it means to me. Blessings <3
I spent some time in Georgia with Mom and Dad. I ended up having life changing conversations with these people who I know now as humans, as well as parents. I let go of a lot of assumptions and false beliefs on who they were. This led me to so much more of myself, and I acknowledge that I have shifted now from being a child into being a woman. I am so grateful that my journey has led me to this beautiful understanding.
Onward, to Carrboro, NC. This lovely little spot is the hoop dance Mecca of the East Coast. The Hoop Path Retreat was the most profound experience I have had on my journey thus far. I am fully aware, after attending this creatively combustive event, that my purpose is to be the dancer. I will always honor this about myself. This is a gift I am so humbled and grateful to receive. Praise to Bax, Ann and the Locals for being the finest examples of goodness and grace that the hoop community knows.
The scene switches now to the majestic mountains and valleys of Lewisburg, WV.
It was wonderful to be able to appreciate this landscape on such a contrasting level. After living in flat Florida I am childlike in my curiosity to explore the trails, caves, rivers, and rocks within these mountains. My soul Sister Serah and her beautiful family have welcomed me with full hearts and open arms. I have had so many memorable experiences in such a short time. Stay tuned for some righteous pictures. I am currently in Sarasota for a few days for a visit. It feels great to be lazy in the balmy heat and to just BE. Noah’s company is also nice ☺ I really missed him for the three weeks I was bouncing around. I’ll be headed back to Lewisburg in a few days. I’ll look for massage clients, future hoopers, and uncharted terrain. I already had a river bend full of kids and adults hooping their hiney’s off up there. I hope Lewisburg is ready for the hoop, because it’s coming their way! So, I’m off into the unknown again. I have so much trust and patience in my heart right now. Thank you for supporting me on this Pilgrimage and all that it means to me. Blessings <3
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Lunar Love <3
The Moon is mine. I certainly know how to share, but she is mine. I dance for her when she is full, ripe, and juicy. Last night, I tasted the Freedom she brings with senses heightened. I have danced the shore under her pale, lunar love many times. Last night was different. Here, on the island of Edisto, something shifts inside of me. I morph into a woman who understands that there is no time, only this one moment. I feel as though the island understands my needs right now, and is aiding me in every way possible to grow, blossom, and be while I am in her arms. She gifted me the most perfect spot on the island to have a midnight moon dance, followed by a seriously liberating skinny dip with the sea. I had to deliberate for a while before I actually allowed myself to be naked, in the ocean, at 12:15am. I finally just threw off my clothes and ran laughing, heart racing, soul exhilarated, splashing my way into the salty saving grace. It was an amazing experience to be naked in the most natural saline solution Mother Nature offers. I floated and dove and waded around. I cried a little, only out of pure awe and respect for the amount of beauty that was around and within me. There was no one else. Just me, my ocean, and my moon. Anyone could have chosen this exact experience, but no one else did in that moment. That moment, with that moon, in that part of the Atlantic, in front of those particular sand dunes, with no else around I chose that moment. My moon, my moment. It is beautiful the way it was orchestrated so that everyone else in the world was doing whatever it is that serves them I and was able to have this experience. I am so grateful for my life. It really is limitless. I am glad that I am capable of creating a life that is so full of one liberating experience after another. It’s ok if no one else is beside me, for I am aware of what is above me, below me, and within me. No one else really even needs to know about it but me. But, like I said before, I want to share. What self-realized person doesn’t want to read a story about a girl who is finding her womanhood one moonlit-midnight-skinny dip at a time? Here’s to you, and all of the times you have been, and will be, bare skinned with your sun-starved-butt gleaming in the basking radiance of Lunar Love.
The Beginning
The adventure has begun. I am myself today. This is beautiful, for this is the nature of the adventure. It seemed so awkward at first, almost like learning how to walk for the first time. The packing was difficult, but as I gave some things away to people I loved and trusted, it was easy to just let it all go. I sold some things, trashed some things, and gave most of it to Goodwill. Liberation.
I left on June 4, 2009 with all of my worldly possessions in (and on top of) my Mitsubishi Galant. (Kudos to Noah’s super-righteous packing skills!) I left Florida after a perfect lunch at Peach’s with three of the people I love most in the entire world. I took my time leaving the state I am proud to call my home. It is not my birthplace, but it is my home. My first stop on the adventure, however, happens to be the city in which I was born. Orangeburg, SC. My grandmother, who I lovingly call Nonnie, resides here, and this has been a comforting constant throughout my life. It was nice to pull into a driveway I know, be greeted by the face that has been familiar to me since the day of my birth, and sleep in a bed that smells like my grandfather. I am grateful for this symbolic and poignant beginning.
I am so blessed. Even if I turned around and came home tomorrow, it would not be in vain. Before I left I had the rare and immensely satisfying experience of seeing every single one of my friends. I enjoyed home-cooked dinners, late night/full moon beach talks, sunshine and hoops, body painting, woods-walking, hoop making and wine drinking, So You Think You Can Dance!, massaging my loved ones, giving to and receiving from my dearest friends, cookouts, cherries and chocolate, and plain ole’ time well spent with the people who mean so amazingly much to me it makes my heart smile. Thank you all for being in my life. I love, love, love you.
It was easier than I thought to let go of the physical things. That felt great, actually. I have this calm, empty feeling inside. A little fear bounces around in there from time to time, the emptiness amplifying the acoustics of that nagging, persistent voice. But then I take over, and remind myself why I am here, consciously choosing this current situation of having no home, no job, no certainty. It is the ultimate exercise in trust. I must remind myself, especially after decisions such as this, that I am fully capable of taking care of myself, trusting myself to know what to do, trusting the force that guides me, trusting that money will come, trusting that I will find a bed, a shower, and nourishment. I trust it. Whatever it is, I trust it.
So here I sit. I am sitting on the porch of the beach-front house my Momma rented for the week, gazing in awe at the first full moon of the journey, realizing how special I am, this is, we are, and always will be. I almost forgot about the full moon. But then I remembered to take a breath, and go outside. There she was, in all of her beauty, glory, and innocence. The full, white sphere is sitting over the ocean, reflecting herself without reserve. She is a beacon. The goddesses of the moon are calling me towards what I know is already there. Freedom, love, laughter, and life. At one point tonight, the clouds took an interesting formation. This one cloud appeared as an arm with a hand reaching out, and as it gravitated closer and closer to the perfect orb it looked like it took the moon right into its wispy hand. In that moment I almost felt the universe itself was handing me its most precious gem. The moon. I feel as though it is certainly a guiding force. It reminds me that the night is, indeed, kind. Even when I am alone, I am a part of the whole. This is very comforting. So now, to show my appreciation, I will depart from my words to go take part in my own sacred ritual that I practice every month- a dance under the light of the full moon. I am grateful that I have the beautiful Atlantic Ocean as my audience. The Gulf may just get a little envious, but he knows I will return in due time. As I go now, to dance and be divine, I encourage you to give yourself a serious hug. Let it last awhile, and remember that every moment is a spectacular experience. One Love <3
I left on June 4, 2009 with all of my worldly possessions in (and on top of) my Mitsubishi Galant. (Kudos to Noah’s super-righteous packing skills!) I left Florida after a perfect lunch at Peach’s with three of the people I love most in the entire world. I took my time leaving the state I am proud to call my home. It is not my birthplace, but it is my home. My first stop on the adventure, however, happens to be the city in which I was born. Orangeburg, SC. My grandmother, who I lovingly call Nonnie, resides here, and this has been a comforting constant throughout my life. It was nice to pull into a driveway I know, be greeted by the face that has been familiar to me since the day of my birth, and sleep in a bed that smells like my grandfather. I am grateful for this symbolic and poignant beginning.
I am so blessed. Even if I turned around and came home tomorrow, it would not be in vain. Before I left I had the rare and immensely satisfying experience of seeing every single one of my friends. I enjoyed home-cooked dinners, late night/full moon beach talks, sunshine and hoops, body painting, woods-walking, hoop making and wine drinking, So You Think You Can Dance!, massaging my loved ones, giving to and receiving from my dearest friends, cookouts, cherries and chocolate, and plain ole’ time well spent with the people who mean so amazingly much to me it makes my heart smile. Thank you all for being in my life. I love, love, love you.
It was easier than I thought to let go of the physical things. That felt great, actually. I have this calm, empty feeling inside. A little fear bounces around in there from time to time, the emptiness amplifying the acoustics of that nagging, persistent voice. But then I take over, and remind myself why I am here, consciously choosing this current situation of having no home, no job, no certainty. It is the ultimate exercise in trust. I must remind myself, especially after decisions such as this, that I am fully capable of taking care of myself, trusting myself to know what to do, trusting the force that guides me, trusting that money will come, trusting that I will find a bed, a shower, and nourishment. I trust it. Whatever it is, I trust it.
So here I sit. I am sitting on the porch of the beach-front house my Momma rented for the week, gazing in awe at the first full moon of the journey, realizing how special I am, this is, we are, and always will be. I almost forgot about the full moon. But then I remembered to take a breath, and go outside. There she was, in all of her beauty, glory, and innocence. The full, white sphere is sitting over the ocean, reflecting herself without reserve. She is a beacon. The goddesses of the moon are calling me towards what I know is already there. Freedom, love, laughter, and life. At one point tonight, the clouds took an interesting formation. This one cloud appeared as an arm with a hand reaching out, and as it gravitated closer and closer to the perfect orb it looked like it took the moon right into its wispy hand. In that moment I almost felt the universe itself was handing me its most precious gem. The moon. I feel as though it is certainly a guiding force. It reminds me that the night is, indeed, kind. Even when I am alone, I am a part of the whole. This is very comforting. So now, to show my appreciation, I will depart from my words to go take part in my own sacred ritual that I practice every month- a dance under the light of the full moon. I am grateful that I have the beautiful Atlantic Ocean as my audience. The Gulf may just get a little envious, but he knows I will return in due time. As I go now, to dance and be divine, I encourage you to give yourself a serious hug. Let it last awhile, and remember that every moment is a spectacular experience. One Love <3
Thursday, May 7, 2009
The Pilgrimage
Here it comes! I have felt the fire in my belly burning away everything that was holding me back. The intensity is growing. I can actually hear Mother Earth calling to me in the birds, the waves, the wind, and the trees. I am embarking on my journey, my right of passage, my walk-a-bout, my entrance into Womanhood. I feel like a native, an aboriginal, about to be initiated into a more conscious and purpose filled life. I have been patient in my waiting for this moment, and I am enthralled to have arrived. I showed up :)! I'm really here. I mean, I am so present in this very moment, it is beautiful. I am making the promise to document everything every chance I get. I love you and I want to share it all with you because it is also your story and your healing. I want to do this so that you may have the courage and the strength to do it also. You can do anything you want, right now. There is no more time for hesitation. You must do that which you desire right now. Break free of your imprisoning thoughts, shut them off, put them aside and 'hitch your wagon to a star'. I am so happy to be right here right now to share this amazing existence with all of you. It has all come full circle. Wish me luck and lots of laughter:) <3
Relationship-Relat+Creat=Creationship
You follow? I had several equally wonderful epiphanies this past month, and wanted to share one with you. I decided I am officially done with 'relationships', and I am moving onward in my evolution to the art of Creative Partnerships. Creationships, if you will. The word 'relationship' simply is not serving me any longer. But a Creative Partnership, now that sounds interesting. I feel that when people are around each other, when they are healthy, they are in constant co-creation with each other. They are consciously creating every moment, whether it be laughing, kissing, holding silence, giving, body painting, receiving, making a fire-hoop, traveling, dancing, writing, sleeping, listening, and simply just being. A Creationship is label free, based on trust, joy, passion, self-love, true sharing, open hearts and is earth centered. It holds no past and expects no future. It evolves and is open minded, communicating with respect, ease, and compassion. It honors the opinions/thoughts/programming of others, always listening and free of judgment. The partners have an understanding that there is no time frame. Only the moment. The partners honor the True Source in their individual and unique ways, holding space for the other to be totally free. There is connection, laughter, and love. It is simple. It is free. It is easy. It is perfect. I am so intensely grateful for my Creative Partnership with Spirit, for that makes all of the other partnerships simply delicious. Thank you, thank you, thank you for every cell in my body and it's beautiful service to my creative devotion! Blessings.
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Meet Sheila
Meet Sheila. Sheila is the borderline psychotic personality that I take on when my emotions are deep, my heart is hurt, and my pride is drowning in whatever hot mess of a situation I have created. Sheila says things I choose not to remember. ‘Things’ is a bit of an understatement, actually. She turns her words into razors, purposefully cutting into the old scar tissue of another’s wounds. If you look into Sheila’s eyes it is easy to see her heart is absent, and the gaping hole creating the void is visible in the darkness of her pupils. If you look long enough, deep enough, you may even see small little Shellie hiding inside, shaming herself for giving Sheila her power once again.
Sheila, once released, is on a seek-and-destroy mission. She will use her powers in wicked ways. She knows where you are soft and weak, what areas of your psyche are tender and which emotional veins you leave vulnerable. She digs deep into your dignity with her sarcastic claws. Her cavalier references to your traumatic past will leave you paralyzed. The poison of her words runs deep into your existence as the tongue-lashing leaves your throat closed. Even if you could speak, Sheila has no ears. Anything she hears is perceived as a threat, insult, dig, injury, defamation, or interruption. An encounter with Sheila is certain death, for the relationship at hand, that is.
Sheila met her match, once, with a Welshman. Sheila gave it her best, but after a while the continuous love and forgiveness the Welshman showed Sheila started to make it easier for me to take control of the beast. There were moments when Sheila would force her way through, but her attacks only went as far as an intense glare or a few snippy remarks. The Welshman’s tactics were clever, yet from the heart. Through hugs, sweet kisses, and much-needed bouts of playful fun and laughter, Sheila became dormant. She will always be lurking in my shadow, and that is fine. That is her place. Sheila represents all of my unmet needs, insecurities, and false truths. Sheila believes that she is unlovable and a victim. She is so far removed from her Divinity that she cannot feel even one iota of compassion for herself or anyone else. Her only goal is to defend the empty space that is filled with hate instead of a heart. It is a very small, sad existence.
We all have our Sheila’s. I gave this aspect of myself a name, because it is easier for me to understand it and let it go when I realize it doesn’t define me. I am grateful to the young Welshman for helping me to deal with one of the darkest parts of myself. I did it, but he certainly was a facilitator. There is a Welshman of your own somewhere in your life. Someone is the sunshine that will willingly help you deal with your scary shadow side. These lovely teachers come and go, always leaving us with a very important lesson. We can accomplish so much when we love with an open heart. Sadly, it is the nature of relationships to sometimes end. When this happens, we cannot re-release our Sheila’s, letting them run wild. It is important to understand this is where the true growth happens. Leave Sheila as part of the shadow, and let the light shine instead of reaching into the defense-mechanism grab bag. Crawl into those cracks of your being where Sheila seeps through, find the un-met need, and meet it with a simple deep breath.
I actually hugged myself today. I found myself in a needy, tiny, microscopic frame of mind and gave myself a big-ass freakin’ bear hug and cried for about 15 seconds. I felt Sheila shrink. It’s subtle, but I can tell her extinction may be near. It will be interesting to see what new breed of animal stems from this period of solitude in my life. I have a feeling this one will have wings. ☺
Sheila, once released, is on a seek-and-destroy mission. She will use her powers in wicked ways. She knows where you are soft and weak, what areas of your psyche are tender and which emotional veins you leave vulnerable. She digs deep into your dignity with her sarcastic claws. Her cavalier references to your traumatic past will leave you paralyzed. The poison of her words runs deep into your existence as the tongue-lashing leaves your throat closed. Even if you could speak, Sheila has no ears. Anything she hears is perceived as a threat, insult, dig, injury, defamation, or interruption. An encounter with Sheila is certain death, for the relationship at hand, that is.
Sheila met her match, once, with a Welshman. Sheila gave it her best, but after a while the continuous love and forgiveness the Welshman showed Sheila started to make it easier for me to take control of the beast. There were moments when Sheila would force her way through, but her attacks only went as far as an intense glare or a few snippy remarks. The Welshman’s tactics were clever, yet from the heart. Through hugs, sweet kisses, and much-needed bouts of playful fun and laughter, Sheila became dormant. She will always be lurking in my shadow, and that is fine. That is her place. Sheila represents all of my unmet needs, insecurities, and false truths. Sheila believes that she is unlovable and a victim. She is so far removed from her Divinity that she cannot feel even one iota of compassion for herself or anyone else. Her only goal is to defend the empty space that is filled with hate instead of a heart. It is a very small, sad existence.
We all have our Sheila’s. I gave this aspect of myself a name, because it is easier for me to understand it and let it go when I realize it doesn’t define me. I am grateful to the young Welshman for helping me to deal with one of the darkest parts of myself. I did it, but he certainly was a facilitator. There is a Welshman of your own somewhere in your life. Someone is the sunshine that will willingly help you deal with your scary shadow side. These lovely teachers come and go, always leaving us with a very important lesson. We can accomplish so much when we love with an open heart. Sadly, it is the nature of relationships to sometimes end. When this happens, we cannot re-release our Sheila’s, letting them run wild. It is important to understand this is where the true growth happens. Leave Sheila as part of the shadow, and let the light shine instead of reaching into the defense-mechanism grab bag. Crawl into those cracks of your being where Sheila seeps through, find the un-met need, and meet it with a simple deep breath.
I actually hugged myself today. I found myself in a needy, tiny, microscopic frame of mind and gave myself a big-ass freakin’ bear hug and cried for about 15 seconds. I felt Sheila shrink. It’s subtle, but I can tell her extinction may be near. It will be interesting to see what new breed of animal stems from this period of solitude in my life. I have a feeling this one will have wings. ☺
The Shellie Show: Episode One: Change
Change. Ironically, it is the only constant in life. I used to be very fixed, rigid, and uncooperative when it came to the idea of change. “I am this way. I am that way. This is how it is. This is my opinion. I am right. You are wrong. We are different,” I would proclaim. I am a Scorpio, after all. Our ruling element is water, which could insinuate fluidity. My water, however, took the form of ice. This made my life an entertaining spectacle full of drama, crisis, and cheap thrills. I thrived on the theatrics and created one colorful experience after another. There were many times when it all became so painfully hard I seriously considered how much I actually wanted to participate in the goings on of this world. I broke free of this addictive cycle when I embraced the one thing I was truly petrified of experiencing. Change. If I was driven/stubborn enough to avoid it for this long, perhaps I could take that same mindset and conquer the unknown. I am eternally grateful for this sudden change in personality.
Since I have willingly taken on change I have the confidence to approach life without fear of failure. This is massive. It has catalyzed an enormous amount of growth for me, and for my purpose. I never wanted to leave the South. Now, I want to experience the entire world and all of the beautiful people in it. I never wanted to be too different from anyone else for fear of not fitting in. Now, my desire is to be exactly who I am, and trusting that I will fit where I belong. I thought having a large circle of friends/acquaintances was what I needed to feel important. I realize now that a true connection with someone is so special, as opposed to tiny strings attached to dozens of people scattered about. I used to be all about me. I was the star, taking center stage of The Shellie Show. I am now so comfortable with giving, and becoming a much better listener. About that Shellie Show of mine…
The Shellie Show’s ratings were dropping, so I needed to revamp the script and incorporate some variation. One script re-write I am working on now is the removal of old patterning. I am sick of having interactions with my partners/bosses/teachers/friends/strangers that mimic my relationship with my father. So, two alterations are taking place simultaneously. One. I am changing my relationship with my father. I flung the doors of communication wide open. He will walk through on his own time. Two. I am recognizing the ways in which I can deal with my habitual behavior. My long-term goal is to dissolve the needy tendencies, cravings for approval, and childlike addiction to attention. There are a few scripting changes that The Director suggested that I wasn’t too fond of at first. I.e., the removal of my co-star (partner) but I trust that both my co-star and I will find the gifts hidden in this re-write. I think he (my co-star) was ready to embrace some changes of his own. He is missed, and all is well. Another will audition soon enough…
I’ve learned that in order for The Shellie Show to be a hit I have to communicate with The Director on a regular basis. We need to be on the same page, discussing details about how this will all unfold. I trust that my Director always wants my joy to take center-stage, and that the scenes involving pain and sadness will be laced with humor and refreshing bouts of creativity. I have suggested a few changes in scenery. The Director mentioned to me sometime back that The World would be a great place for a sequence of episodes to take place. I feel that setting the stage for change/evolution in a few different foreign, beautiful, and sacred remote locations could really boost the morale of the main character (me).
Overall, change and healing have been the running themes throughout The Shellie Show. I believe the two go hand in hand. I was reading ‘The Prophet’ the other day. I flipped to the part on Joy and Sorrow. “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain”, the author states. Certain changes could be viewed as sorrowful, perhaps a relationship that has come to an end. The important thing to realize is that the only reason you are sorrowful is because whatever you have ‘lost’ gave you great joy. Sorrow and joy are inseparable, as are change and healing. Things are changing for the main character of The Shellie Show, and damn it, I’m doing my absolute best to make the most of this moment.
I like the way my character has adapted. I’m punctual more often, that’s a new development. I’m creating a healthy routine, also. For example, I went to the gym tonight, for the third time this week. The bowl of cereal I ate minutes after completing my two-hour work out was not a part of my healthy new regimen, but I enjoyed it all the same. I’m flossing regularly, writing a hell of a lot more, even doing my own taxes. I’m even making my food for the next day the night before. Hold the phone, am I getting organized? Is there any Virgo in my chart?
The point is, is that change changes people. When met with resistance, change can feel so friggin’ funky and end up catalyzing a dark period. I said dark, not bad. Dark is just dark. It is meant for reflection and rest. In contrast, when change is met with fluidity and acceptance a helluva lot of joy seems to follow suit. I finally learned how to do the latter, and I am thankful that I found this courage. But this little dark stint was welcomed with open arms. Pain is pain. Pain is growth. It just is.
I am malleable. I allow myself to be clay in the hands of The Director. I am letting go of my personality, for I am only 24. It’s OK to change my mind, my heart, my style, my beliefs, opinions, needs, wants, and habits. When someone asks me something I would normally have a pre-programmed answer to I stop for a moment, and then answer with ‘I don’t have an opinion about that’. It’s true. I don’t want to have an opinion about every issue on the planet. Opinions are like butt-holes. Everyone has one, and some stink. I can’t get rid of my anus but I can certainly drop a bunch of unnecessary opinions.
Opinions and beliefs are simply segregating. They create arguments and separation. This doesn't resonate with me anymore. And anyone who knows me that is reading this is probably thinking ‘WTF? Shellie is the most passionately opinionated person I know!’ Well, I’m changing. And that’s that. It feels good. I do like to debate and argue, but only because I was taught that it was an appropriate form of communication. Again, it doesn’t resonate with me anymore. Instead of forcing my program onto someone else I would rather listen to them and say ‘Wow, that is a really beautiful way to feel about that’. What I feel works best is to realize that we all interpret this world differently. I have The Shellie Show running all day long, so it’s nice to check in to other channels. But still, The Shellie Show is MY PROGRAM. You have yours, he has his, and she has hers. I can’t possibly know how the main character of The Jamie Show is experiencing her day because I am experiencing my own day, my own episode. I can check in with her though, open a line of communication, and maybe take some scripting ideas she got from her own conversation The Director and put them into effect in my own, my own life. The point is that we all see the world differently and that is what makes it so special. We each see the same thing in a different way. So, we end up with beautiful things like art and music and tragic things like murder and war. Our differences are our connection, and in the same breathe, our separation. It’s only contrast.
Maybe, if we could merge all of our programs, create one big network, and trust that The Director had all the details taken care of, perhaps we could all embark on change together. We could face the unknown together, trust in the Source that brought us all here together. For now, I will keep on healing, learning, and loving myself so that The Shellie Show will be an appealing example for others. As for you, I honor your script, scene, and style. Thanks for tuning in!☺
Since I have willingly taken on change I have the confidence to approach life without fear of failure. This is massive. It has catalyzed an enormous amount of growth for me, and for my purpose. I never wanted to leave the South. Now, I want to experience the entire world and all of the beautiful people in it. I never wanted to be too different from anyone else for fear of not fitting in. Now, my desire is to be exactly who I am, and trusting that I will fit where I belong. I thought having a large circle of friends/acquaintances was what I needed to feel important. I realize now that a true connection with someone is so special, as opposed to tiny strings attached to dozens of people scattered about. I used to be all about me. I was the star, taking center stage of The Shellie Show. I am now so comfortable with giving, and becoming a much better listener. About that Shellie Show of mine…
The Shellie Show’s ratings were dropping, so I needed to revamp the script and incorporate some variation. One script re-write I am working on now is the removal of old patterning. I am sick of having interactions with my partners/bosses/teachers/friends/strangers that mimic my relationship with my father. So, two alterations are taking place simultaneously. One. I am changing my relationship with my father. I flung the doors of communication wide open. He will walk through on his own time. Two. I am recognizing the ways in which I can deal with my habitual behavior. My long-term goal is to dissolve the needy tendencies, cravings for approval, and childlike addiction to attention. There are a few scripting changes that The Director suggested that I wasn’t too fond of at first. I.e., the removal of my co-star (partner) but I trust that both my co-star and I will find the gifts hidden in this re-write. I think he (my co-star) was ready to embrace some changes of his own. He is missed, and all is well. Another will audition soon enough…
I’ve learned that in order for The Shellie Show to be a hit I have to communicate with The Director on a regular basis. We need to be on the same page, discussing details about how this will all unfold. I trust that my Director always wants my joy to take center-stage, and that the scenes involving pain and sadness will be laced with humor and refreshing bouts of creativity. I have suggested a few changes in scenery. The Director mentioned to me sometime back that The World would be a great place for a sequence of episodes to take place. I feel that setting the stage for change/evolution in a few different foreign, beautiful, and sacred remote locations could really boost the morale of the main character (me).
Overall, change and healing have been the running themes throughout The Shellie Show. I believe the two go hand in hand. I was reading ‘The Prophet’ the other day. I flipped to the part on Joy and Sorrow. “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain”, the author states. Certain changes could be viewed as sorrowful, perhaps a relationship that has come to an end. The important thing to realize is that the only reason you are sorrowful is because whatever you have ‘lost’ gave you great joy. Sorrow and joy are inseparable, as are change and healing. Things are changing for the main character of The Shellie Show, and damn it, I’m doing my absolute best to make the most of this moment.
I like the way my character has adapted. I’m punctual more often, that’s a new development. I’m creating a healthy routine, also. For example, I went to the gym tonight, for the third time this week. The bowl of cereal I ate minutes after completing my two-hour work out was not a part of my healthy new regimen, but I enjoyed it all the same. I’m flossing regularly, writing a hell of a lot more, even doing my own taxes. I’m even making my food for the next day the night before. Hold the phone, am I getting organized? Is there any Virgo in my chart?
The point is, is that change changes people. When met with resistance, change can feel so friggin’ funky and end up catalyzing a dark period. I said dark, not bad. Dark is just dark. It is meant for reflection and rest. In contrast, when change is met with fluidity and acceptance a helluva lot of joy seems to follow suit. I finally learned how to do the latter, and I am thankful that I found this courage. But this little dark stint was welcomed with open arms. Pain is pain. Pain is growth. It just is.
I am malleable. I allow myself to be clay in the hands of The Director. I am letting go of my personality, for I am only 24. It’s OK to change my mind, my heart, my style, my beliefs, opinions, needs, wants, and habits. When someone asks me something I would normally have a pre-programmed answer to I stop for a moment, and then answer with ‘I don’t have an opinion about that’. It’s true. I don’t want to have an opinion about every issue on the planet. Opinions are like butt-holes. Everyone has one, and some stink. I can’t get rid of my anus but I can certainly drop a bunch of unnecessary opinions.
Opinions and beliefs are simply segregating. They create arguments and separation. This doesn't resonate with me anymore. And anyone who knows me that is reading this is probably thinking ‘WTF? Shellie is the most passionately opinionated person I know!’ Well, I’m changing. And that’s that. It feels good. I do like to debate and argue, but only because I was taught that it was an appropriate form of communication. Again, it doesn’t resonate with me anymore. Instead of forcing my program onto someone else I would rather listen to them and say ‘Wow, that is a really beautiful way to feel about that’. What I feel works best is to realize that we all interpret this world differently. I have The Shellie Show running all day long, so it’s nice to check in to other channels. But still, The Shellie Show is MY PROGRAM. You have yours, he has his, and she has hers. I can’t possibly know how the main character of The Jamie Show is experiencing her day because I am experiencing my own day, my own episode. I can check in with her though, open a line of communication, and maybe take some scripting ideas she got from her own conversation The Director and put them into effect in my own, my own life. The point is that we all see the world differently and that is what makes it so special. We each see the same thing in a different way. So, we end up with beautiful things like art and music and tragic things like murder and war. Our differences are our connection, and in the same breathe, our separation. It’s only contrast.
Maybe, if we could merge all of our programs, create one big network, and trust that The Director had all the details taken care of, perhaps we could all embark on change together. We could face the unknown together, trust in the Source that brought us all here together. For now, I will keep on healing, learning, and loving myself so that The Shellie Show will be an appealing example for others. As for you, I honor your script, scene, and style. Thanks for tuning in!☺
Monday, February 16, 2009
Needy Girl
Warning! Needy girl alert! The subject is 5’2”, brunette, brown eyes, and heartbroken. She has been known to use methods such as rebounding, sexual co-dependency, and various numbing techniques to avoid her pain. Be careful! She’s armed and jaded. She has the verbal venom ready and there is a force field of steel surrounding her heart. If seen, approach with caution. She may cry or leave her body at any moment. Don’t make any sudden moves, for two things could happen. She may cling to you and suck you dry of your life force. Or, she may be so closed off that all of your emotions will rebound off of her armor and smack you in the forehead, leaving scars that could affect you for lifetimes. This needy girl just needs time. If you really want to help her then hug her, appreciate her uniqueness, and let her be herself. If you, or anyone you know, is a needy girl then it is important to acknowledge the awesomeness of the feminine, bask in the radiance of being an emotional woman, and find solace in knowing and speaking your own truths.
To all the needy girls out there, it’s ok to be in your own company. You will find it refreshing to not worry what others think. It will help you to evolve into the Goddess that you are. You will find it a great deal easier to be yourself and not a modified, watered down version of you. Welcome to being truly alive, where each day you are grateful that you are living your own dreams, no one else’s. Welcome to feeling fabulously free. Embrace the solitude, take time to dance with the Great Choreographer, and find fulfillment in the stillness. Love the silence, for it is the wordless conversations that will lead your to your answers. It’s ok to be needy right now, needy girl. Now is a brilliant time to learn to satisfy your own needs. You are strong enough. Turn the needs into deeds. Start becoming exactly who you want to be. Take all the actions you can in order to live the life that calls to you. By being at peace with who you are, where you have been, and where you are going, you are doing yourself and the world a great justice. This will attract all of the right people to you, ultimately attracting the one who will allow your true essence to shine, your blossoming to occur, and your fragrance to permeate the atmosphere. He will be the key that opens you all the way, so that your heart may give and receive so fluidly it will be like breathing. Ah, yes, breathing. That is your homework, needy girl. Breathe. Just breathe. When it’s all falling apart, find your gratitude and breathe. All is well, and you are whole.
To all the needy girls out there, it’s ok to be in your own company. You will find it refreshing to not worry what others think. It will help you to evolve into the Goddess that you are. You will find it a great deal easier to be yourself and not a modified, watered down version of you. Welcome to being truly alive, where each day you are grateful that you are living your own dreams, no one else’s. Welcome to feeling fabulously free. Embrace the solitude, take time to dance with the Great Choreographer, and find fulfillment in the stillness. Love the silence, for it is the wordless conversations that will lead your to your answers. It’s ok to be needy right now, needy girl. Now is a brilliant time to learn to satisfy your own needs. You are strong enough. Turn the needs into deeds. Start becoming exactly who you want to be. Take all the actions you can in order to live the life that calls to you. By being at peace with who you are, where you have been, and where you are going, you are doing yourself and the world a great justice. This will attract all of the right people to you, ultimately attracting the one who will allow your true essence to shine, your blossoming to occur, and your fragrance to permeate the atmosphere. He will be the key that opens you all the way, so that your heart may give and receive so fluidly it will be like breathing. Ah, yes, breathing. That is your homework, needy girl. Breathe. Just breathe. When it’s all falling apart, find your gratitude and breathe. All is well, and you are whole.
Hoop Healing
Since I have been flying solo in the relationship realm I have picked up my hula-hoop everyday. I hoop at the beach during sunset every chance I get. I wait for the moon to arrive and then I hoop a little more. And then, when I’m ready and I have all kinds of feminine energy flowing through me, I sit down in the sand, hug myself, and let the tears and wails flow freely. This has been a profound healing experience for me. I feel incredibly alive. You know you’ve reached a new milestone in your life when a good, hard cry feels as satisfying as a belly laugh.
I really missed hanging out with myself. I still don’t really know what the hell to do with my time, however. I overstayed my welcome until almost midnight at Jamie’s one night. I went to sleep around 8:30pm at least two nights in a row. I was at the gym for three hours last night. I find myself wandering around the grocery store for hours when all I need is a jar of peanut butter. Side-note: I am quitting peanut butter. I read recently that peanuts are a source of aflatoxins, a highly carcinogenic mold. Also, the reason for the cravings may indicate a copper deficiency (peanuts are high in copper.) Plus, the oil is PB is usually rancid. Ew. And, just to top it all off, my PB fix of choice is Skippy Natural, which has added sugar. I read the find print the other day and it said ‘Peanut Butter Spread’, indicating that this was not simply peanut butter, but an imposter. WTF?! Giving up my boyfriend and peanut butter? This could get dangerous.
So, to deal with all this in a healthy way I am hooping my sweet ass off. I hooped in the rain tonight. That was refreshing. I didn’t care that my hair was all matted to my face, mascara creating little black rivers on my cheeks, or that I smelled as good as two-month-old leftover meatloaf. I was ok with it, and that was the only opinion present, therefore the only opinion that counted. It’s kind of nice to have the option of showering, as opposed to the obligation in consideration towards the poor soul who would be sleeping inches from your meatloafyness.
I have a hoop workshop coming up in next weekend that I am seriously psyched about. I have worshipped this guy as a Hooper since I started last summer. His name is Jonathan Baxter, and he and his wife Ann are simply awesome. They’re good ole southern folk from North Carolina, which I resonate with immensely, and I admire the practice and philosophy they teach very much. Because hooping gets me connected, I’ve developed some awesome connections with other hoopers, and I will get to stay all three nights of the retreat in the same house that Ann and Bax will be staying in! I am so so so excited about this. I am ready to learn all I can from them, and from myself, during this time.
I believe that this is all divine timing. I loved spending time with my boyfriend. I rarely turned down a chance to sleep next to him. If we were still involved, I would have made different decisions, and most likely wouldn’t have lead myself towards this amazing opportunity. Therefore, I am so very grateful for it because I honor the exchange I have had with Spirit. I gave up a lot when I finally surrendered and trusted that I would be taken care of outside of a relationship with a partner. Spirit is already blessing me so wonderfully with such significant opportunities for growth and exciting change. I grieve the loss of my best friend/boyfriend, but I see the larger picture.
I am finding myself in the hoop, and it is an experience I will share with others when the time is right. This liberation is like nothing I have ever experienced. To have the Hoop as your partner instead of a person is an adventure. It is a relationship. I trust my creativity and myself, and I surrender to the rhythm of the hoop. I’ve found that I can feel sexy without it having to be for someone else. All of this occurs in the presence of a circular piece of plastic tubing decorated with flashy tape. It’s too simple. I love it. Try it, you will, too ☺
I really missed hanging out with myself. I still don’t really know what the hell to do with my time, however. I overstayed my welcome until almost midnight at Jamie’s one night. I went to sleep around 8:30pm at least two nights in a row. I was at the gym for three hours last night. I find myself wandering around the grocery store for hours when all I need is a jar of peanut butter. Side-note: I am quitting peanut butter. I read recently that peanuts are a source of aflatoxins, a highly carcinogenic mold. Also, the reason for the cravings may indicate a copper deficiency (peanuts are high in copper.) Plus, the oil is PB is usually rancid. Ew. And, just to top it all off, my PB fix of choice is Skippy Natural, which has added sugar. I read the find print the other day and it said ‘Peanut Butter Spread’, indicating that this was not simply peanut butter, but an imposter. WTF?! Giving up my boyfriend and peanut butter? This could get dangerous.
So, to deal with all this in a healthy way I am hooping my sweet ass off. I hooped in the rain tonight. That was refreshing. I didn’t care that my hair was all matted to my face, mascara creating little black rivers on my cheeks, or that I smelled as good as two-month-old leftover meatloaf. I was ok with it, and that was the only opinion present, therefore the only opinion that counted. It’s kind of nice to have the option of showering, as opposed to the obligation in consideration towards the poor soul who would be sleeping inches from your meatloafyness.
I have a hoop workshop coming up in next weekend that I am seriously psyched about. I have worshipped this guy as a Hooper since I started last summer. His name is Jonathan Baxter, and he and his wife Ann are simply awesome. They’re good ole southern folk from North Carolina, which I resonate with immensely, and I admire the practice and philosophy they teach very much. Because hooping gets me connected, I’ve developed some awesome connections with other hoopers, and I will get to stay all three nights of the retreat in the same house that Ann and Bax will be staying in! I am so so so excited about this. I am ready to learn all I can from them, and from myself, during this time.
I believe that this is all divine timing. I loved spending time with my boyfriend. I rarely turned down a chance to sleep next to him. If we were still involved, I would have made different decisions, and most likely wouldn’t have lead myself towards this amazing opportunity. Therefore, I am so very grateful for it because I honor the exchange I have had with Spirit. I gave up a lot when I finally surrendered and trusted that I would be taken care of outside of a relationship with a partner. Spirit is already blessing me so wonderfully with such significant opportunities for growth and exciting change. I grieve the loss of my best friend/boyfriend, but I see the larger picture.
I am finding myself in the hoop, and it is an experience I will share with others when the time is right. This liberation is like nothing I have ever experienced. To have the Hoop as your partner instead of a person is an adventure. It is a relationship. I trust my creativity and myself, and I surrender to the rhythm of the hoop. I’ve found that I can feel sexy without it having to be for someone else. All of this occurs in the presence of a circular piece of plastic tubing decorated with flashy tape. It’s too simple. I love it. Try it, you will, too ☺
The Epiphany
Epiphany! I have found the reason for all of my failed relationships. Of course, I figure this out one relationship too late. God must get a kick out of irony. (I know it’s all divine timing I’m just pouting.) So back to my epiphany, it all comes down to my relationship with my father. Now, one must understand that I have always known that my relationship with my father would play a part in every partnership I would encounter. However, I was unaware of how, well, unaware I would be about this. I knew it, but did nothing to reconfigure the karma. Frannie Hoffman is a wonderful catalyst for such a shifting. Side note: Frannie Hoffman is a spiritual counselor and intuitive. If you have any issues (meaning if you have a body you occasionally find imperfect, insecurities, financial dilemmas, emotions, came from a womb, anger towards anyone, or have ever had any question about the purpose of your existence) then you should seek this sort of counseling. It will allow you to work your own miracles, develop trust, and realize that any form of dysfunction you may be feeling always comes back to a lack of Divine Connection.
Ok, so back to my epiphany. That’s the thing about epiphanies. There are always there, but distractions are so easy…
My father was a pastor, a man of faith, a disciple of the Lord, speaker of the Truth, leader of the Way, and a seriously shitty father. I was forgotten at school, sometimes not picked up until well after the sun had set. I was verbally berated, constantly feeling small and defenseless, leading to defense mechanisms that would continue to space between my father and I, and ultimately my partners as well. I saw my dad as an obstacle that would eventually overcome. Something I could move on from and forget about, as I got older, moved out, and made my own decisions. Man, did I have another thing coming.
I have realized over the past few years that my differences with Dad are karmic. I will never, nor should I desire to, escape from it. It will be cyclical, repeating itself over and over again until I figure the damn thing out. Whenever I reach the point where I can look at my father and see him as a man, and not the ultimate creator of my pain, powerlessness, and darkness, then I will be free. Today I had a major breakthrough with this. Because my father was a minister, I associated him directly with God. Because I was raised a Southern Baptist, I was taught many lessons on how to be afraid of God. Well, I was afraid of my father, my father spoke often about knowing God, so by deductive reasoning my father must be God. That should be where I discover God. My seven-year-old self asks herself, “Where is God?” That man there in the pulpit, your father, the source of your reality, the provider of your home, food, and feelings. I realized today that because I chose to disconnect from my father, stray from him, never know him, never respect him, and avoid all he brings up in my emotional field, I have remained disconnected from my Truth, my Source, my God. God is not in my father. My father represents the duality, and my separation. I was so pissed off, thinking that none of my boyfriends were really connected to Spirit, that I was doing all of the Spiritual growth work hoping they would follow suit, jump in, and we were float away together on a cloud right up God’s butthole. I wasn’t really doing anything except looking for God IN them. Just like when I was a little girl and thought I could find God in my Daddy, I have held on to that lie thinking I can find God in someone else, something external, something other than myself. So after the layers are peeled away, there it is. If I STAY connected to God, then it doesn’t matter what my partner is doing, because I will see them as I see myself: connected. It was just frustrating them to hear me talk about it, and not really live it. I was sometimes connected, but I wasn’t staying connected when I was in their presence, leading me to experience the shadow of Shellie, the fearful Shellie, the small seven-year-old Shellie who did not know what her needs were, but certainly knew they weren’t being met by God, I mean, Dad.
Whew! Man, it’s so heavy. But you know what? I’m willing to go there. I’m willing to realize that there will be days when my entire belief system falls apart and it’s not about the other person. It’s about me. It’s about me, and my stuff, and the other person is just my reflection, projection, and wounded sibling. It wasn’t just my dad that fucked me all up, it was his dad too, and your dad, and my dad’s dad. It’s not just my abandonment and rejection and disconnection- it’s humanities. It is the entire existence. All I can do is see my own self, love unconditionally, receive instead of reject, invite instead of abandon, and connect with myself. Even when it sucks ass and the other person is triggering me in every way possible I still have a choice. I can freak out and lose myself, or, I can take a deep breath way down into my belly and stay connected. Stay connected to the negative, shadowy, small feelings, and realize that it’s mine. I earned it. Breathe into it, and let it out with each exhale. Invite the person triggering me to go take a walk, sit with me in a bath or under the stars, and let the weird sticky sensation dissipate. It’s MY shit. MINE. MINE. MINE. I feel like I should lick it or pee on it so no one else will want it. I’ve never wanted to claim it until now. I am simply ready to move forward. I know that if I just break-up and shut down, then I will certainly experience it again, just in a different shade, on a different set, with a different co-star.
So I think it’s time for Shellie at 24 to grab hands with Shellie at seven and get to know her Pop. Perhaps I’ll give Dad a call, or write him a letter just asking how his life is. If I don’t get to know him now, I fear I may cling to the father I knew seventeen years ago. That seems unfair, to think someone hasn’t changed or evolved in seventeen years. I mean, I certainly have, haven’t I? Or am I still perpetually seven years old? If I can’t get a present day relationship with my Dad, I will most likely continue to have past-tense relationships with my partners. My Dad was a pastor who couldn’t connect to the very Source he spoke of. My most recent partner was Healer who is couldn’t connect the very Source he spoke of. I am a Healer who couldn’t connect to the very Source she spoke of. Anyone see a pattern? For once, I do. I bow to the men who have brought me to this gift. Divine Connection. I couldn’t find it in them, but I found it from my interactions with them, and I am finally feeling right where it was the whole time. My heart. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, for all who were involved in bringing me to my Connection.
Ok, so back to my epiphany. That’s the thing about epiphanies. There are always there, but distractions are so easy…
My father was a pastor, a man of faith, a disciple of the Lord, speaker of the Truth, leader of the Way, and a seriously shitty father. I was forgotten at school, sometimes not picked up until well after the sun had set. I was verbally berated, constantly feeling small and defenseless, leading to defense mechanisms that would continue to space between my father and I, and ultimately my partners as well. I saw my dad as an obstacle that would eventually overcome. Something I could move on from and forget about, as I got older, moved out, and made my own decisions. Man, did I have another thing coming.
I have realized over the past few years that my differences with Dad are karmic. I will never, nor should I desire to, escape from it. It will be cyclical, repeating itself over and over again until I figure the damn thing out. Whenever I reach the point where I can look at my father and see him as a man, and not the ultimate creator of my pain, powerlessness, and darkness, then I will be free. Today I had a major breakthrough with this. Because my father was a minister, I associated him directly with God. Because I was raised a Southern Baptist, I was taught many lessons on how to be afraid of God. Well, I was afraid of my father, my father spoke often about knowing God, so by deductive reasoning my father must be God. That should be where I discover God. My seven-year-old self asks herself, “Where is God?” That man there in the pulpit, your father, the source of your reality, the provider of your home, food, and feelings. I realized today that because I chose to disconnect from my father, stray from him, never know him, never respect him, and avoid all he brings up in my emotional field, I have remained disconnected from my Truth, my Source, my God. God is not in my father. My father represents the duality, and my separation. I was so pissed off, thinking that none of my boyfriends were really connected to Spirit, that I was doing all of the Spiritual growth work hoping they would follow suit, jump in, and we were float away together on a cloud right up God’s butthole. I wasn’t really doing anything except looking for God IN them. Just like when I was a little girl and thought I could find God in my Daddy, I have held on to that lie thinking I can find God in someone else, something external, something other than myself. So after the layers are peeled away, there it is. If I STAY connected to God, then it doesn’t matter what my partner is doing, because I will see them as I see myself: connected. It was just frustrating them to hear me talk about it, and not really live it. I was sometimes connected, but I wasn’t staying connected when I was in their presence, leading me to experience the shadow of Shellie, the fearful Shellie, the small seven-year-old Shellie who did not know what her needs were, but certainly knew they weren’t being met by God, I mean, Dad.
Whew! Man, it’s so heavy. But you know what? I’m willing to go there. I’m willing to realize that there will be days when my entire belief system falls apart and it’s not about the other person. It’s about me. It’s about me, and my stuff, and the other person is just my reflection, projection, and wounded sibling. It wasn’t just my dad that fucked me all up, it was his dad too, and your dad, and my dad’s dad. It’s not just my abandonment and rejection and disconnection- it’s humanities. It is the entire existence. All I can do is see my own self, love unconditionally, receive instead of reject, invite instead of abandon, and connect with myself. Even when it sucks ass and the other person is triggering me in every way possible I still have a choice. I can freak out and lose myself, or, I can take a deep breath way down into my belly and stay connected. Stay connected to the negative, shadowy, small feelings, and realize that it’s mine. I earned it. Breathe into it, and let it out with each exhale. Invite the person triggering me to go take a walk, sit with me in a bath or under the stars, and let the weird sticky sensation dissipate. It’s MY shit. MINE. MINE. MINE. I feel like I should lick it or pee on it so no one else will want it. I’ve never wanted to claim it until now. I am simply ready to move forward. I know that if I just break-up and shut down, then I will certainly experience it again, just in a different shade, on a different set, with a different co-star.
So I think it’s time for Shellie at 24 to grab hands with Shellie at seven and get to know her Pop. Perhaps I’ll give Dad a call, or write him a letter just asking how his life is. If I don’t get to know him now, I fear I may cling to the father I knew seventeen years ago. That seems unfair, to think someone hasn’t changed or evolved in seventeen years. I mean, I certainly have, haven’t I? Or am I still perpetually seven years old? If I can’t get a present day relationship with my Dad, I will most likely continue to have past-tense relationships with my partners. My Dad was a pastor who couldn’t connect to the very Source he spoke of. My most recent partner was Healer who is couldn’t connect the very Source he spoke of. I am a Healer who couldn’t connect to the very Source she spoke of. Anyone see a pattern? For once, I do. I bow to the men who have brought me to this gift. Divine Connection. I couldn’t find it in them, but I found it from my interactions with them, and I am finally feeling right where it was the whole time. My heart. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, for all who were involved in bringing me to my Connection.
The Process
The moonlight was brighter than the man-made lights of the resorts, condominiums, and street lamps. It cast my shadow onto the white sand. I used my silhouette as my mirror as I danced on the shore. It was a Wolf’s moon. The brightest sphere of reflective light I have ever seen. The silver light bathed me in my solitude. I embraced my femininity as I moved my hips, stretched my legs, arched my back, and allowed gravity to have hold of my head. I was the wind. I let go in all of the ways a woman wants to let go. I was barefoot, no bra, just a tank top and boy-shorts, moving my body to my music, under my moon, on my time. Each time my foot sunk into the cool earth I was grateful. I had nowhere to be, no one to be. It was freedom. I have tasted it.
When I was seventeen I got my first tattoo. I was underage, but clever. I paid the artist an extra $20. I spent my first semester of my junior year in Economics class sketching the tattoo I longed for. I walked out that day with my first tattoo: a feather. Above it, the word ‘Freedom’. It sits in its simplicity on my sacrum, where most other girls have bouncing butterflies or the typical tribal. I was so young, but I knew one thing for sure. Freedom was all anyone was ever truly seeking. We work so we can have money so we can go on vacation so that we can feel free for a moment. It is the epitome of irony. I work, I desire money, I certainly desire a vacation, but my heart understands something my brain does not. Freedom comes far more easily than we think. I felt that for the first time last night under the glow of the Wolf’s Moon.
Freedom is this simple thing that we are programmed to believe is complicated. Being free requires one action and one action only: be blissful. Blissful? I mean, I’m happy and all. But to exist in a state of total bliss? Can’t say that I know much about that. It’s strange. I’ll fall into little stages of bliss occasionally without even trying. And that’s just how it happens I suppose, you can’t be trying to find bliss. You just have to be ‘being’, and bliss finds you. If one is totally blissful just being in one’s presence, then one is free. I was dancing, and on the verge of this mysterious ‘Bliss.’ So I danced a little more, thought a little less, sang a little louder, moved a little less timidly and bam! There it was. Euphoria. On the beach, under the moon, with some music and a little help from my hula-hoop, I had a blissful experience. I was alone. No else was around. Well, I was not alone at all really. I had the most amazing company one can have, The Divine. Ah, eureka! Communing with The Divine in any way, on any day, all day…Bliss! Finding the specialness in every single second. I know now how to at least create moments of bliss when I’m having trouble letting them find me. If I keep creating it, then it only makes sense for that act to become easier and easier, eventually becoming habitual. I suppose this means this whole ‘Living in Bliss’ thing is what I like to call, a process. This is no surprise.
Spirit’s greatest works occur in stages, human evolution being the most interesting I’ve witnessed. From an egg and sperm to cells to embryo to a fetus to a baby to a child…and if we are conscious our psyche will follow our bodies and we grow to become adolescents, adults, sages and crones, and then back to the magical dust from whence we came. God didn’t just bless the world with a bunch of beautiful butterflies. He gave us caterpillars. Maybe these crawling leaf-eating creatures are the most enlightened beings to ever walk the planet. I mean talk about evolution! They go from being on the ground, to finding the resources inside of themselves to build their own coffin (for the insect probably feels death approaching), and they let go of everything they knew in the world. I am sure the caterpillar falls into a state of deep meditation and communion with Spirit. Just when the bug feels like it’s over, voila! He bursts forth into the world a brand new being. No longer does he crawl and nibble from the floor of the earth, fighting to stay hidden from hungry birds and slithering hunters. Now he flies high! He is full of color and contrast and clarity. He feeds from the sweet nectar of life inside of the flowers. He frolics and finds nothing but joy and freedom. I admire this process. Therefore, I will continue to pursue this process that will lead me to bliss. So while I’m still here, on the ground, I might as well look up and enjoy the beautiful, celestial view of the Universe I am so gratefully a part of.
When I was seventeen I got my first tattoo. I was underage, but clever. I paid the artist an extra $20. I spent my first semester of my junior year in Economics class sketching the tattoo I longed for. I walked out that day with my first tattoo: a feather. Above it, the word ‘Freedom’. It sits in its simplicity on my sacrum, where most other girls have bouncing butterflies or the typical tribal. I was so young, but I knew one thing for sure. Freedom was all anyone was ever truly seeking. We work so we can have money so we can go on vacation so that we can feel free for a moment. It is the epitome of irony. I work, I desire money, I certainly desire a vacation, but my heart understands something my brain does not. Freedom comes far more easily than we think. I felt that for the first time last night under the glow of the Wolf’s Moon.
Freedom is this simple thing that we are programmed to believe is complicated. Being free requires one action and one action only: be blissful. Blissful? I mean, I’m happy and all. But to exist in a state of total bliss? Can’t say that I know much about that. It’s strange. I’ll fall into little stages of bliss occasionally without even trying. And that’s just how it happens I suppose, you can’t be trying to find bliss. You just have to be ‘being’, and bliss finds you. If one is totally blissful just being in one’s presence, then one is free. I was dancing, and on the verge of this mysterious ‘Bliss.’ So I danced a little more, thought a little less, sang a little louder, moved a little less timidly and bam! There it was. Euphoria. On the beach, under the moon, with some music and a little help from my hula-hoop, I had a blissful experience. I was alone. No else was around. Well, I was not alone at all really. I had the most amazing company one can have, The Divine. Ah, eureka! Communing with The Divine in any way, on any day, all day…Bliss! Finding the specialness in every single second. I know now how to at least create moments of bliss when I’m having trouble letting them find me. If I keep creating it, then it only makes sense for that act to become easier and easier, eventually becoming habitual. I suppose this means this whole ‘Living in Bliss’ thing is what I like to call, a process. This is no surprise.
Spirit’s greatest works occur in stages, human evolution being the most interesting I’ve witnessed. From an egg and sperm to cells to embryo to a fetus to a baby to a child…and if we are conscious our psyche will follow our bodies and we grow to become adolescents, adults, sages and crones, and then back to the magical dust from whence we came. God didn’t just bless the world with a bunch of beautiful butterflies. He gave us caterpillars. Maybe these crawling leaf-eating creatures are the most enlightened beings to ever walk the planet. I mean talk about evolution! They go from being on the ground, to finding the resources inside of themselves to build their own coffin (for the insect probably feels death approaching), and they let go of everything they knew in the world. I am sure the caterpillar falls into a state of deep meditation and communion with Spirit. Just when the bug feels like it’s over, voila! He bursts forth into the world a brand new being. No longer does he crawl and nibble from the floor of the earth, fighting to stay hidden from hungry birds and slithering hunters. Now he flies high! He is full of color and contrast and clarity. He feeds from the sweet nectar of life inside of the flowers. He frolics and finds nothing but joy and freedom. I admire this process. Therefore, I will continue to pursue this process that will lead me to bliss. So while I’m still here, on the ground, I might as well look up and enjoy the beautiful, celestial view of the Universe I am so gratefully a part of.
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