Insight: Behind my eyelids (another ascension poem)

meditation planter

inbreath when instructing myself to sit and not do

the mind in pictures which flash, fade, emerge

a dog head beelines for my palm and nuzzles bumping cool damp nose bud

palms cupping buzz that tingles

feeling the light prickling where fate line intersects heart and head

waiting for what emerges

what is showing today?

the filmstrip inside my skull splices a never-ending collection of plants

I clearly perceive flowers, leaves of all shapes and colors

they keep coming at me, to me

how do I know them so well?

how do they know me?

in the library that lives in my cellular memory

have I stored and cataloged my interactions with these beings?

Am I a librarian, a botanist, herbalist, healer, a witch?

And why am I so reluctant to remember?

Having loved the plants so long, so well…

has this power brought upon me isolation, demise, misery among men?

remembering is awakening

there is fear, post-traumatic tension with excitement braided in

so many of us with herbs and weeds behind our eyelids

were martyred to human need for certainty, control, designations of good and evil

now insight is returning

as are balance, divinity of female and male

squeezing bitter drops of toxic neediness from each polarization

eager to relax and embrace myself and the plants inside of my eyes

My third eye sees plants and flowers: masculine and feminine aspects of insight

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Dearest readers,

Whenever I paint, I feel as if the source of the images and ideas comes from a deep well somewhere inside of my body. The imagery emerges from this place, the source of which is unseen. Yet it is a distinct place which exists somewhere around my solar plexus. Many interesting pictures and dreams come through from my mind’s eye, which I guess most would call the third eye or pineal gland. These images are visible inside of my head. Last night, in my dream, my “regular” eyebrows had fallen out, and a new set was growing in below the original eyebrows, just below the bone! A lot of the time when I am awake or in the state between sleep and wakefulness, these images spontaneously appear, often depicting a great variety of flowers and plants. Sometimes I see moving geometric shapes or other visions. The photos from this post are from my own garden.

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In general, it seems that people consider the Earth or natural world to be part of the lower realms. I personally feel and know that the human connection to Gaia or Mother Earth is as crucially important and spiritually significant as our connection to the cosmos, sky, sun, soul, and higher self. The physical body is also part of this equation. I believe that there is a clear reason why the Judeo-Christian religious system has squelched the feminine out of its belief system.  The body, the Earth, emotions, sexuality – all of these aspects of being seemed to have been consistently problematic for the establishment of religious power and dogma. The feminine aspects of love, receptivity, emotion, physical pleasure each embody an important measure of human creativity and sovereignty. Without the feminine, the human being is weakened, disconnected from a huge part of self as well as from the consciousness of the planet, and is essentially disempowered. This is how in our collective past we allowed ourselves to be conditioned and enter a program of fear, punishment and reward, guilt and judgment.

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So plants, art, images, and the physical body appear to be my personal gateway to Mother Earth and to the divine feminine. This energy connection for me is an easy one to access. It is natural and requires no effort. A lot of people communicate with their more masculine aspect through the third eye, channeling guides and other beings. Ultimately, since we are all one, there is no being separate from self. Which means that masculine and feminine aspects are also part of the unity of being of which we are all a piece.

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When I wish to communicate with my more masculine, cosmic aspects, I just realized that it is through writing, and more precisely, automatic writing that I can receive responses to my questions. I ask a question, then I wait for words to come, which I record, one by one. Is the source of information different than the one which delivers the images for my paintings or about healing plants? I don’t really know. Possibly yes, possibly no. I don’t think the portal for automatic writing is located in the same area of my body as the one which gives me intuitive images, which are more global or conceptual and less linear. Cultivating patience and the ability to listen seem to be necessary skills or even talents in order to better receive information from the connected self and body.

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More than anything, I want my DNA to be fully activated. To have that fiber optic rainbow bridge of energy and information coursing through my light body and my physical body. For my heart and emotional bodies to be clear and functioning at a high level. To remember who I am and why I am here on Earth at this time. To me, this is the image of happiness. To be a fully connected human being, operating with total alignment and full integrity.

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So much of my life has been spent doubting, searching, trying out different activities and skills, exploring different places. Basically trying to find bits and pieces of myself by interacting with the world. And the world, both natural and manufactured, interacts with me. This is where synchronicities come in. For example, I have been decorating my Little Free Library, which is close to being installation ready, with imagery that is meaningful to me.

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I found a video one day about feathers being visual triggers for DNA activation and awakening to a higher level of consciousness. The color of the feather affects the symbolic meaning of the encounter. And so I began to paint gray, black, and white feathers on the side panels of the library. And on the back, a pair of Eastern bluebirds and a black and white magpie. As I was driving my car yesterday, I happened to be behind an older model Lincoln Towncar. An image of drifting white cutout feathers, just like on my library side panels, was stuck on the rear window of the vehicle. Backwards, I deciphered the word dream at the bottom of the decal. And the license number of the car was RAA. (Ra being the Egyptian god embodying the Law of One, unity consciousness, and ascension.)

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The physical realm, our bodies, and nature are powerful communicators, if we pay attention to details. Just this past week, I have been visited by a beautiful snapping turtle, who bears great wisdom about patience, leaving behind the old, and beginning new chapters in my life. Yesterday, I saw a magnificent red-tailed hawk, much larger than any I have ever seen, soaring above the lake where I walk my dog. The hawk teaches how to see the bigger picture, to hone in and focus on solutions given by source rather than waste energy chasing after ways to control outcomes. These animals are great gifts.

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I know that it is from a place of fear that I wish to control my life, and letting go of that control all while embracing insight, intuition, and wisdom from the natural world and from spirit is the path that brings ease, abundance, beauty, and joy. Having spent many years working through fear, pain, suffering, lack, worry, and stress, I am ready to create something different for my life. So grateful am I to the animals, to the imagery of plants and the information and wisdom that comes in me and through me from so many lifetimes of experience.

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All human beings were made to be connected to Earth and sky, like the beautiful trees that grace our planet. We are moving trees, living libraries. All of us connected to one another, to the planet, and beyond. All of our questions and yearnings are heard. Why is it so hard to let go of the familiar system, even if it keeps us in pain, lonely, and separated from all that is? This is the big challenge for all of us. The time to remember has come. It is a joyful time. At last, we will be able to sit back, relax, love ourselves, and enjoy our lives as we help one another and work together to create harmony within ourselves and within our communities once again.

Pineal (a poem)

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In the bedrock of soft ooze

sprout the rods and cones of a ladder to Jacob’s dream

spruced upwards

gazing inwards

the hallucination of a dream left behind for too long

the yearning of a sunken volcano

a sisterhood of souls abandoned

yearning for the connection

sailing towards the energetics of a wise and warm embrace.

I am told humanity has folded its legs

tucked its head

and wound itself into the embrace of a temporary womb.

the pine cone falls from a lofty place

dropping swirling shedding

layers of forgotten dreams

shattering the brutal murder from the shards of history’s mind wipe

she lies in a tomb shrouded in moss and cobwebs

vines entangle the stone, hair, bone, twig, and flower

enwised

a new being unfolds

tentatively stretches a sticky limb

through a film once designed to hold and protect

she is reborn

looking inward

to revise the heart of humanity