Hey Wait… I Didn’t Order Drama!?!

Souldipper once confessed that her stomach turns on occasion when she reads the unabashed, heated pleas I occasionally throw in God’s direction.  She wants to leap through the computer, give me a sobering slap and say, “Athena Grace, don’t just fire your prayers from the hip like that… unless… you’re prepared to lay in the nail-laden resulting bed, Sweetheart.”  Of course these are my words.  I am notorious for taking the words of others, distilling them to the purest essence and then dressing them back up in drama and lackluster.  Besides, I don’t imagine Souldipper to be the slapping type… except under ostensible circumstances.  But look at me burying myself in a meaningless pile of words, when what I really wanted to say is~

 

I LOVE YOU!  As I was washing myself clean in the placid, healing waters of Hanalei Bay this morning… actually, I remember the precise moment~ I was floating on my back, making Ocean Angels~ and I felt all of You.  All of you who witness my journey.  All of you who walk by my side, digesting, celebrating and integrating your own unique snowflake of a vantage point in this curious, holy Dream.  In the magnifying bath softly undulating between earth and sky, I prayed for all of your hearts to be FREE!   For all of your ways to be illuminated by Love, washed in cool, bracing Peace.  Thank you for sharing this journey with me!  Thank you for your individual commitments to serving the Great Love!  Keep Going!  Your efforts matter.  Your simple kindness stretches eons and lightyears beyond the visible world unfurling before your shy earthly eyes…

 

Phew, I had to let that out before I could get on with spooning out today’s steaming heap of intimate slop for all you ever-hungry soul pilgrims.  So here goes…

 

You know how I’m often wishing that I could be Saint Theresa?  I’d even settle for remaining me, but just getting bludgeoned through the heart with Ecstasy’s arrow… Well… our ever benevolent Maker granted my wish last night.  I lay on my bed, my heart utterly shattered.

 

(Time out again… a HELLA radiant older woman just walked by (I’m at the local coffee shoppe in Hanalei this am~ “Java Kai”) and I was moved to reflect back to her her overt radiance!  Strange how that works.  I felt like I was just following holy orders.  She said I looked like someone she knew and we must be kindred spirits.  I realized she too resembled someone that I know and *respect*…I asked her if she’d have tea with me someday.  She said yes.  Her eyes shone like evening stars.)

 

Time in.  I found out why my housemate is not speaking to me.  But not from her… I called my writing partner for our requisite evening exchange of the day’s novel progress… Before we dove in, he said he had a pressing issue to address~ why on earth had I told my housemate, his close friend, that we had showered together????  He was not happy.  At all.  He said that the entire island knew of this now tainted incident and this was not okay with him.  The classical light bulb flashed on over my head.  Ah-HA!  This is why my housemate ain’t talking to me.  I had confessed to her this intimate exchange after it happened… because she had more or less requested that… and I felt some guilt that I wanted to shed…

 

God, I am feeling ashamed to be suddenly flailing in a swampy pool of drama.  Like, REALLY??!?  I CREATED THIS????  Yes, Athena Grace, you certainly did.  Now stand up in it.  And keep lifting your heart and your mind up to God.  Sigh… Ohhh-kay…

 

In the moment that I shared it with her, my intention was to maintain integrity and connection.  But instead I created a mirror who *seems* furious, punishing, collapsed… Amazing how easy it can be to so radically miss the mark.  Talking with my writing partner, (who has staunchly requested that I refrain from using his name or exposing his identity) I quickly fell from sobriety and the revelatory state of inspired purpose into the innate proclivity to fly and fight.  I told him that I didn’t want to pursue our project any further.  He said sleep on it.  We hung up the phone.

 

I lay alone, suffocating behind the closed door of my bedroom.  And guess who, of ALL people I chose to call?  Mykael!!!  This surprised even me.  But he knows me.  And I needed to be known, as I was feeling wholly misunderstood by every single person on Kauai and maybe even the island Herself.  Yes, for the first time since I’ve been here, I dreamed of returning “home” to Oakland!!!!  Surprise!  Up until then, I had been 99.9999999999% sure that I AM home.  I felt so relieved dreaming of flying back into the staticy urban sprawl… even if I suffocated in all the chaos, pavement, pollution and noise.  A microscopic price to pay…  You know what I most lusted for in these moments of intense discomfort?!?!?!

 

CHURCH!  I was elated at the idea of being reunited with the East Bay Church of Religious Science!  I felt like one crawling on hands and knees through the parched desert and finally spotting a lustrous oasis on the horizon.  I miss that church SOOOO much.  So much.  Just for the record.

 

But Mykael held me just how I needed to be held.  I felt loved, gotten and perfect AND stretched into broader perspectives, greater compassion and insight.  After we’d picked the bone at hand long enough to remove all the juiciest meat, I asked him casually how his date was the other night.  I felt his satiated heat flooding through the phone.  I asked him if they had sex.  He said YES!!!!  The kind of yes that dripped with bestial sounds, shooting stars, reverberating exclamation points and of course plenty of bodily fluids.

 

In an instant, I was torched with the hot, poisonous sting of JEALOUSY.  I had had a modest, homeopathic dose of it when he told me that he had a date… and I leaned into the sting.  Why not?  I have no reason to fret about who my ex is sleeping with.  And if there is pent up energy in me, I want to face it and dispel it.  I aspire to create a peace treaty with this unsightly, long condemned emotion.  Honestly, I don’t even necessarily believe in monogamy.  I aspire to feel whole enough that my beloved(s) can be free to express themselves fully in OR out of relationship with me.  What’s higher than seeing one you love fulfilled and joyous?  So I saw this as an opportunity to air and illuminate old fears.

 

But tell that to my emotional body, who was now conflagrated.  I had just thrown back quite a dangerous, circumstantial cocktail.  Zowie!!!  Folks, don’t try this at home… and if you do, accidentally, be sure you have the number for Poison Control close at hand.  I lay there imagining Mykael penetrating some faceless FOXY bitch, making her scream in holy rapture… and my heart split and burned and bled and my pussy felt like an immense red hot coal.

 

But even in the thickest of the thick of it, I could clearly feel my higher self standing within me, clear, loving and wide awake.  I gave myself permission to CRY.  No holds barred.  I let it RIP, and as I did, I remembered Saint Theresa.  I let myself break.  Because I often pray to be broken.  Mykael stayed with me.  Quietly.  He’s a good man.  Even if our relationship turned to mud.

 

I could say a lot more… but I’ve already burned through my acceptable word quota.  You see, my blogs are mere snacks.  Hearty snacks, mind you… So I guess I’ll resume this thread tomorrow if needs be.

 

I’ll conclude by telling you that my observer self sees so clearly my habit of feeling discomfort and wanting to FLEE.  Fuck did I want to leave the island last night!  But thankfully, my higher wisdom is clearly reminding me that this is a rite of passage and purification.  I have the opportunity to open my heart when it feels terrifying and impossible.  I have the opportunity to LOVE MYSELF unconditionally.  And see my housemate AS a reflection of myself… and rather than take a defensive stance, I can pray and pray and pray to God that I may see her through Divine Eyes.  And I can become adept at remaining still, peaceful and rooted in Truth Everlasting in the face of extreme discomfort.  What a magnificent blessing!!!  I accept.  God, wash me CLEAN.  Oh, please wash me clean.

 

Amen.

Milkmaids, Blessings and a Moon Who Wouldn’t Quit!

When I woke up this morning, the dark was unusually thick.  I was sure that it couldn’t be more than one or two o’clock, so lay in bed, practically squeezing my eyes shut and lamenting that I was so wide awake.  After a few tortured, timeless moments, I checked the time on my phone and was surprised to see that it was after five!  Word on the street is that the darkest hour comes before the dawn.  I have found this to be absolutely true in the metaphorical sense.   You know, since I am on the precipice of rediscovering the [dawning] light inside me, and so far, my life has mostly felt like one, long, arduous, thirty year dark night of the soul… But last night it was absolutely true in the most basic, literal sense.  Add to that vision of an ambiance so black, it feels velveteen, like petals on a rose of death, a wholly unabashed waning half moon spilling a steady stream of beams so coy, I could hear them casting a continuous hum of carefree mantras into the deep, vivid, black mystery.  The cold light tickled me like being teased with a melting ice cube.  Soon enough the birds began to spread the word that all this wicked beauty was unfolding from God’s very mind.  Their voices were solemn and ominous like chanting Benedictine monks trying to speak in angel tongues.  Even though I hadn’t quite had a full six hours of sleep, I could only feel blessed as I nestled deeper into the warm safety of my covers.  It’s not every day that the pre-dawn screams such beautiful poetry at me.

I’m sure it was some kind of blessing spoken in a forgotten language.  Our native tongue, the language of the soul.  Strange that we feign ignorance for a language that courses through the veins of our most essential selves, and yet it can so easily slide by, unnoticed.  Well, I am starting to remember.  And I am here to remind you that you speak another language… you are speaking it all the time, but I think it’s easier to notice in the midst of a peaceful heart and a mind set on loving.

I love the things I say sometimes.  I feel so lucky that I get to sit here and type them!  Last night I stayed up past my bed time because two of my favorite friends in the world were in Mykael’s bedroom, which proved to be a very stimulating and blessed occurrence, which made it hard to renounce in the name of good night sleep.  As I was preparing, finally, to take my leave, Maha told me that he sees me as a radiant expression of the Goddess.  Holy spilt mind of the ego!  Something in me felt so relaxed and receptive as he poured this loving confession upon me.  And another part of me felt like it was enduring a rare form of torture.  That’s the ego for ya.

And as I’ve been learning in A Course in Miracles, GIVING AND RECEIVING ARE ONE.  I am really starting to recognize this on an experiential level.  Come on, it’s not that esoteric, after all.  Picture it~ there’s Maha, eyes steady, deep and pouring with light.  He fixes this auspicious gaze on me and drizzles rich, generous, heart-stained words on me like artisan hot fudge.  As I receive the deep sweetness that lies just below the linguistic communion, our hearts brush blushing cheeks and sigh in sweet relief, because we are choosing to meet in a moment alive as the spontaneous celebration of love!  I want to say that it’s analogous to a cow that aches to be milked.  If she is neglected, she will suffer, bursting at her seams with the very nectar of life.  The relief she must feel when her udders are tugged, squeezed, emptied.  And the holy milkmaid and her posse of innocent, ripe dreamers, too benefit as they imbibe in the sweet, luscious, creamy dream juice.

But that’s not the perfect metaphore… because in the moment that Maha gave the blessing of divine seeing, he claimed his own divinity.  Get it?!  This is the secret of prosperity consciousness.  Prosperity is not you or me having something that others don’t… It’s not having MORE than someone else.  It is the vigilant stance in the truth that there is enough for everyone, just by virtue of WHAT WE ARE.  It is such a radical shift for me to practice thinking like this.  But I have groomed my consciouness adequately, and I am ready to stretch myself into this revelatory, awake mental posture.

Jealousy is such a phenomenal entry point for me.  I have had such a long standing habit of feeling threatened when I recognize a woman having what she wants, feeling fulfilled, because I have been carrying around a covert sentence that I do not deserve that and am incapable of creating and allowing that in my life, and that if she has it, there is less for me. Jealousy= She has something that I want, but I can’t have, because I am not really made of Love Its Self, I am just a cheap, Walmart imposter.  (Universe, you know I am only poking fun, don’t you dare take me literally!)  Lately, when a woman tells me that she is feeling very fulfilled in her life, I widen myself so that I feel her success, her light, her joy as my own, as OURS.  I tell myself she IS me.  If she tells me that she had amazing sex, instead of feeling sorry for myself because I haven’t had amazing sex in like three days, I let myself feel what it feels like to be fucked really well!  A far superior experience.  If I see a woman flourishing in her work life, making lots of money, opening her heart and imbibing in the deliciousness serving others as she was born to do, I let myself feel the very high, holy blessing of that experience.  In witnessing that, in celebrating her fulfillment, it is also mine!

This takes practice.  But it’s not nearly as difficult a practice as say, opening my heart to Mykael in the moments when I am seized by my dream of pain, my compulsion to PUNISH… I am ready to claim true prosperity for the team!!!!  Not the kind I have to fight for, sweat for, grind my teeth in my sleep for… No, the kind I melt into, like stepping into a hot bath.  Like in Anusara yoga, when a teacher says to let your skin soften and drape on the fullness of your inner light.  It’s a radically different feeling than clenching every muscle and fighting for my right to be here now.

Think about it, life is constantly hurling blessings at you.  Every ray of sunlight that extends its self to your heavenly body… every flirtatious smile sprinkled from a fat baby’s lips… the inadvertent brushing of shoulders with a stranger… the duet modestly spun between shoe and sidewalk.

May you recognize and bathe in even a fraction of the blessings throwing themselves at your feet, begging to be received today!  And too, may you be the peaceful hurler of blessings into the sea that we are all semi-forgetfully flailing in!

PS~ Sparrows splashing in the murky gutter puddle!!!