Recently, my friend Trish sent out another of her messages from the Archangel Michael. As I reread her message last night, I immediately realized that it is too good not to share with you.
“Freedom from others’ ideas and opinions comes when you
find freedom within you.
Freedom comes when you Trust yourself, your ideas and intuition,
and then have the courage and Love to live them.
Freedom is the courage to live your own Truth.”
-Archangel Michael
The message is so simple, so clear, and so incredibly powerful. Each one of us does indeed have our own unique and loving truth living deeply inside us.
For the majority of this lifetime, I was stuck in a box constructed by the ideas and opinions of others. The thought of straying outside of the box was terrifying. There was no doubt in my mind that the world as I knew it would end if I were to venture outside the box—even if but for brief explorations. All the while, my soul was suffocating.
Well-meaning caretakers, and society at large, taught me how to construct the box, and encouraged me to stay there—for my own good—for my eternal salvation.
Yes, I now realize that it was I who built the box, and I always had the power within me to tear it down. Just like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz, my emerald slippers were already right there on my own feet; I simply didn’t know how to use them. I now realize that my box was nothing more than a belief system and a learned way of perceiving the world.
In past times, if the walls of my box had been destroyed by a hurricane, I would have rapidly constructed a new box with thicker walls. If an earthquake came along and destroyed the walls for a second time, I would not have delayed in rebuilding yet again. My fear of being judged and labeled as a misfit was so acute, that I went to great lengths to stay in my box, to blend in with conventional wisdom, to conform to the teachings and beliefs of the culture in which I was raised.
Yes, I was serving a life sentence, held captive by the ideas and opinions of others.
Even now, I occasionally invite these insidious voices into my living room for a cup of hot chocolate. I momentarily listen to one of these voices say “You know Brenda, what you are doing is so very irresponsible. How are you going to support yourself when your money runs out? You should be using your new degree to pursue a money making career. You are seriously fooling yourself if you think people are going to want to buy your books.”
Another of these voices pipes in with “Yeah, and you have completely left all of your family and friends behind. You have no idea where you are going, let alone what you will do tomorrow. How responsible is it to have absolutely no plans or goals for your future?”
After a few minutes of polite conversation, I graciously thank my guests for their visit and their opinions, … and then I confidently ask them to leave. Their words simply do not resonate with me.
Learning to trust myself was not easy. In the beginning, my progress was painstakingly slow. With tiny baby steps, I inched forward along my path, terrified at the thought of failure and ridicule. I clung to conventional wisdom as if my very life depended on it. Even after my life transitions of thirteen years ago, I tried to reinsert myself into the conventional world—wanting so desperately to simply fit in, to be ‘normal’.
Yes, it is only in the most recent few years that I have developed the ability to trust and completely rely on my own ideas and intuition—and only in the past few months that I have found the courage to follow my own internal intuition so fully. Even now, I recognize that I am a novice, a beginner, excitedly looking forward to my next lesson in love and life.
In my own personal journey, I can honestly say that “living my own truth” has indeed brought me a feeling of incredible freedom and, might I add, peace.
What I love about Trish’s message is that she acknowledges that each of us have our own unique inner ideas and intuition. What is right for me might be totally wrong for you—and vice versa. In no way would I advise all of my friends to sell their house, walk away from a new degree, and travel the world like a nomad. And yet, that is exactly what my internal voices are telling me to do. I have never been happier, more trusting, more at peace. I have a deep sense of trust that all of this has a divine purpose.
I would never have the right or the capacity to tell anyone else what their own voices have in store for them.
But what I would love to do is to convince you to begin some type of spiritual practice, where you set aside your own time, in our own unique way, to practice silencing all of the external chatter in your life.
I have never been good at “traditional” meditation. For me, my early time of spiritual silence came from being alone with nature in the mountains. Each of us has our own style, so select a method that works for you. Find some type of activity that grounds you in the present moment, and use that as a basis for your spiritual quiet time—your centering time.
This activity might be traditional meditation, or it might be nature, listening to music, playing an instrument, bicycle riding, swimming, reading, writing, or whatever.
Once you begin to feel comfortable in this space of silence, invite your own inner heart and soul to sit down for a long visit.
In the stillness, meditate over questions such as “What is it that my heart wants me to know?” … or perhaps… “If I were to set aside all of the worldly voices that keep me trapped, what is it that my inner soul would really like me to be doing right now with my life … today … in this moment?”
Don’t necessarily use my questions. Be creative. Ask questions that rise from within your own heart – questions that your inner soul prompts you to ask.
Most of all, please listen to what your inner voices and heart have to say. Your very life depends on it.
Body Temper Tantrums
This week has literally zoomed by … yet, as usual, last Sunday seems like a decade ago.
Tuesday evening, after returning from my most recent jungle ride, I found an email inviting me to play Canasta. Even though I was exhausted, an internal energy surge caused me to accept the invitation—and what a delightful evening I had with four of my new American friends.
Since I had no idea how to play Canasta, one of them became my personal coach while I played in her place. For four hours, we bantered and giggled, simply enjoying the moments together. As I retired that evening, a sense of peace and belonging settled into my soul—not an “ego” type of belonging, but a sense of complete oneness with the experience.
On Wednesday, my body decided to throw a temper tantrum, demanding that I get some rest. A hot skin sensation in my arms, shoulders, and forehead all signaled that “perhaps” I absorbed a few too many sunbeams over the previous four days. Then my muscles joined into the party and let me know in no uncertain terms that they also wanted some rest and relaxation.
After running a few late-morning errands, I decided to lay down for a short nap. Minutes turned into exhausting hours. Four hours later, I forced myself out of bed just long enough to run an errand and to get some nutrition in my stomach. After satisfying my hunger, the sofa and television held me captive for the remainder of the evening. I wouldn’t change a thing; I fully agreed with my body’s messages that it was time to crash for a day.
Scuba Paradise
Scuba diving is a major tourist industry here in Cozumel, as well as something that I passionately love to do. The island is a favorite for divers from all over the world, and sports some of the best recreational diving available in the Caribbean, even the world. One very unique element of diving on the reefs of Cozumel is the currents. While submerged one can simply drift with the flow of the currents, exerting very little effort, absorbing the visual wonders of the undersea playground as you gently float by the colorful reefs.
During my first two months on the island, my internal voices refrained from guiding me into the waters’ depths. Yet as I flew home for my son’s wedding, I had a strong hunch that I would be diving soon after returning.
At game night, only two days after touching back down on the island, my opportunity presented itself. I learned that two of my new friends were going diving this week, and was invited to go with them. Eagerly I said “Yes, I would love to.”
Early yesterday morning, the sky was blue and the ocean waters were almost as smooth as glass, as our little dive boat left the crowded marina and began a southward journey. An energy of aliveness filtered through my body as I pondered the upcoming experience. My two friends and I were the only divers on the boat, joined by three crew members: the captain, an assistant, and the dive master who would be our underwater guide.
As we cruised a few hundred yards from the beach, the crystal blue waters below were radiating a magical quality. The ever changing bottom, some thirty or forty feet below us, was easily visible through the crystal clear waters. The salty breeze gently played with my bangs and pony tail as I leaned over the edge of the boat to inhale as much of the experience as possible. The warm sun felt so energizing on my face and skin.
Soon, I was standing at the rear end of the boat, decked out in my scuba gear, eager to take the plunge. Reaching my left fin forward in a giant stride, I pushed off with my right, and in moments I was completely immersed in the warm bath. The soothing Caribbean waters reach delightful temperatures well into the upper 80’s during this time of year. I was told that today’s temperature was around 88 degrees.
After a twenty month sabbatical from diving, I felt as if I had been diving just last week. Everything came back to me—stuff like safety procedures, clearing the pressure in my ears, breathing slowly and regularly, controlling my buoyancy, and using hand signals. The one thing I had not done was use a defogger on my mask—but I managed by frequently clearing the fog—letting water flow into my mask, forcing it back out again using my breath—all while floating along in the depths.
Our first dive location was the Santa Rosa Wall. While reaching depths of 70 feet, I floated along the beautiful coral playground. Soon, the dive master signaled that we were going to swim through an opening in the coral. Without hesitation, I calmly and easily followed his lead. We ended up passing through a series of overhangs and various types of window openings, some as small as four or five feet in diameter.
Writing on a little underwater slate, the dive master informed us that the wall below us dropped off for over 600 feet. Looking down, there was no visible evidence of any type of bottom. A feeling of adrenaline energized my body as I analyzed just how far away that bottom was below us.
As the air in my tank was the first reach the “time to go up” mark, I signaled to the dive master that it needed to ascend. Soon, he attached a small inflatable buoy to a cord on his waist, barely inflated it, and sent it darting toward the surface. Beginning my slow ascent, I stopped at fifteen feet for my precautionary three minutes.
Only seconds later, I noticed the bottom of a boat appear a short distance away. As I waited for my three minutes to tick away on my watch, I pondered the beautiful sights I had just witnessed, and I mentally reviewed the variety of fish, lobsters, and other miscellaneous undersea life that had captured my imagination.
Soon, I was back on the surface, making my way to the boat. Once my feet and hands were securely in place on the large ladder, I removed each fin and handed them up to my helper, who then assisted me in removing my tank and buoyancy compensator vest before helping me climb the final few steps into the safety of the boat.
Minutes later we were all back on board, eating mangos, apples, bananas, and rolls. At the same time, our trusty little dive boat began gently cruising toward our next destination, a reef called Yancab. It was necessary for us to remain out of the water for one hour prior to our next dive, so we were in no hurry. The little nitrogen bubbles in our blood needed time to slightly diminish before we could again descend to the depths.
Our second dive was every bit as delightful as the first. On this dive we maintained depths between thirty and forty feet. In places the current seemed stronger, but not unmanageable. I was glad, however, that I could just drift forward with no need to swim back the other way. Besides the beautiful fish and an array of underwater reef life, the highlight of this second dive was an abundance of spiny lobsters and a lone sting ray.
I was both content and sad when the dive master sent the inflatable buoy to the surface, signaling our time to leave. Regardless of the amount of air still remaining in our tanks, we had reached our limit of bottom time.
While I don’t expect to be diving on a weekly basis anytime soon, I would be very surprised if I don’t find myself back under the sea in the not too distant future.
Miguel Update
Yesterday evening, I saw Miguel for the first time in this busy exhausting week. This time, I snuck up on him, startling him from behind. I filled him in on my busy activities of the week—three long bike rides, scuba diving, and writing—and then told him I still feel tired.
I was not surprised when he somehow managed to work a suggestion back into the conversation.
“You can come over to rest at my house. You will be in my spare bedroom, and I will go about my business in the other rooms.”
“No” I said firmly.
“Why not?” He begged again.
“Because … I don’t want to.” I replied firmly.
Miguel looked hurt and maintained a serious look.
I mimicked his frown, asking “Why are you so serious?”
Soon we were both giggling … but he still didn’t get it. A few minutes later, when I told him I was going home to rest, we exchanged a little friendly hug and peck on the cheek. Almost as if on cue, he remarked “See, you do like me.”
I just can’t win; I don’t know what I have to do to get him to understand, “I want to be fun friends … but that is all we are … just friends … solo amigos.”
I do know, however, that my promptings continue to tell me to maintain a friendship. I am so glad that I have the courage to trust and follow my own inner guides—my own inner truth.
Copyright © 2009 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved