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This time last year

Back then it didn’t make sense. Now I see you, sun, moon and stars. You are God. You are Divine and You are Her.

This time last year I was barely holding it together. My home was under construction for months. I was eating crap, not exercising and drinking every day just to cope with the dust, the disaster and the stress. I began taking hotline calls after finishing a 12 week training. Everything felt difficult, like walking through mud. My soul was sticky and dark. My loftiest intention to help other women was met with resistance from my heart. Why are you going to help others? What about me?

It was a good try on my part, albeit tricky and dishonest in a way I was aware of. The facilitator warned, you must have your issues resolved before taking the training. Of course. I’ve got this. I thought that if I helped others, I would indirectly be helping myself. Two birds, one stone. It was a distraction. And the nightmares persisted.

I just couldn’t bear the horror show that became my sleeping hours. I’ve had them since I was a child. They were getting worse and more frequent. I couldn’t ask my spirit to keep carrying that trauma for me anymore. The violence in my dreams was nearly unspeakable. But I had to speak it, to a trusted friend or colleague, because if I didn’t it would swallow me whole and I would walk around inside of it all day.

A year has passed and my kitchen now opens up to a vast panorama of the woods and rock ledge behind my home. Light floods in like heaven during the day and the moon sets down here at night. I sit here in the morning and meditate. I pray. I connect and do my angel and oracle card readings. I might as well be floating compared to where I was last year.

Last night, the full moonlight poured into my space and I understood what it means to be aligned to what God wants for me. It is so simple. Love. Meditation isn’t the daunting and serious undertaking I had always imagined. It is love. It is sitting with yourself, for yourself,  in love. It is letting the light into the cracks of your darkness. It is where you find the good stuff. The magic and the mystery. It is the sweetness you find when you realize it is safe to come undone. At the end of all that hurt me was this undefinable and beautiful space waiting to hold me.

My husband told me that the other night I was sleep talking, giggling and thanking Mother Mary. Laughter and divinity in my dreams.

I am proud of myself. I have done some hard work. There was no sweetness there then. No light. But last night I sat with the moon. I will do it again tonight. I will continue to give Her the burden and accept Her bright light. I am not alone. Am I whole or broken? I don’t even need to know anymore.

I am like the moon.

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