I’ve been thinking a lot about matter recently. It’s a common word in our language and now in our headlines.
We quite literally, are matter. Stardust, in fact. We have something like octillion atoms in our bodies, yet if you took all of the matter in those atoms, we would each fit on the tip of a pin, and all of humanity would fit into a sugar cube. We are a lot of empty space.
Things that matter have substance and take up space.
Approximately 80 years ago, a man and a handful of followers captured the power to kill millions of people. This photo is from a Facebook post that was widely shared. Having spent 20 years as a military spouse, the next to the last thing I want is for my sons to end up in the military. The last thing I want is for something anything like World War II to happen again. The horror of war on soldiers and civilians is nothing to be proud of.
As Mitch Landrieu said in his speech on taking down the confederate monuments in New Orleans, much of our history has been one of omission one of historical malfeasance on the part of people trying to stay in power.
I believe that we repeat history because we get stuck in it, not because we ignore or forget it.
Let me be clear
We are all part of the problem
The surfacing of white supremacy on the global stage is showing you
Where you hold hate
Where your ancestors didn’t heal their trauma
I am moving out of my office at the end of this month and committing to altering the paradigm of my business. I know I said this a few months ago, but I still held on to a bit of my old business as some kind of a backup plan, or the remnants of all the voices in my life that told me that I couldn’t ever be that successful.
In my dreams, my fear of failure always shows up as a bear.
I have had both an amazing and a difficult time the last couple of weeks since I realized I healed myself of being a healer. I knew this at some level before, but had not put it into such a succinct statement. My entire life has been a journey to heal others (and myself) in the most efficient and effective ways possible.
I have been doing a couple of #365projects on Instagram – posting once a day for a healing prayer or sorts, which I call a Creation Invocation, and once a day for my word of the year: circle. I didn’t post this weekend
I am done whispering. I need to scream. If you ever needed proof that we each create our own realities, we all have it now. My professional reputation has been that of the “Body Whisperer.” I use very gentle touch to clear up people’s pain and trauma. I usually put forth an effort to write and speak with grace, as I see and feel people at the soul level. The United States just elected its shadow to be its leader, and all of my usual meditation, oneness, imagination, magic, play in the quantum field, and fairy dust can’t change that today.
I am a puddle of tears today. I am not normally like this. I am usually the rock solid one who doesn’t cry very often. I have thrived in viewing the election through intuitive, archetypal and astrological lenses. I love the symbolism of apples, the astrology of Eris, the contest between Poseidon and Athena that resulted in the naming of the city of Athens, and comparing Medusa to myself and all of the “nasty women” I know.
However, since watching the first presidential debate between Hillary Clinton and Donald Trump, I have had some unexpected feelings bubble up. I feel as if my own glass ceiling is about to shatter and I am not sure my husband and sons will recognize me afterward. As Hillary Clinton sits on the verge of being elected President of the United States, I can say that it is truly different to have a mirror of yourself as the leader of the free world.
As I feel more sure about the outcome of the presidential elections in the U.S., I am still uneasy about the aftermath. I had one scared child in my house last night. He loves following politics. He is frightened for our country. He is also frightened by where we live, in New Orleans. Violent crime is high here, and in the last two weeks, two of those violent crimes took place one block from our usually quiet street. I am not as unsettled by the events close to home, as they seem to have been targeted crimes, but gunshots before bedtime are not comforting in any way.