Brenda's Bicycles

(As per my post “Finding The Balance”, all of my blog entries up through the end of my Sun Course (Sept 21) will be raw journal entries. I want to continue writing, but will not have the time to do so in my normal polished manner.)

Monday, September 13 – 6:30 p.m.

Today has been a mini roller coaster ride in the physical realm – but all is well. I happily ate two full meals – a late breakfast of oatmeal with fruit and honey, and a mid-afternoon lunch of rice and steamed vegetables. Before each meal, I felt emotionally and spiritually energized, and my stomach seemed stable enough. But after each meal I found myself seriously questioning the wisdom of diving back into solid foods so soon. Nevertheless, I do not question the decision because it came from my heart. Perhaps, though, I need to listen to my body and stop eating a little sooner when my body begins to tell me that I have had enough (which it did near the end of each meal).

This evening, I debated whether I was ready to sit through a meditation session in the pyramid temple – but my intuition told me I would be OK and that I would not be sorry.

Something in my heart did not want to miss my last evening meditation session in the temple combined with the Moon Course. Yes, I said “last.” Tomorrow morning we have our final yoga and our final class with Chaty. At the end of that class we begin our final seven days of silence – a week that will be quite unlike any that we have experienced prior to this point.

Chaty has told us that we will not follow any schedule, adhering to no time commitments. During this entire seven days we will simply be by ourselves, with ourselves. Of course we still need to step outside and eat etc…, but we will now be completely on our own time – following our own intuition. If our hearts guide us to sleep during the day and be awake all night long, that will be a choice available to us.

The timing of my recent healing path could not have corresponded more beautifully. I think the Universe is telling me that this week will be my testing ground, my chance to prove to myself just how ready I am to leap forward in my growth, especially during those dark (and soon-to-be moon-lit) nights.

*  *  *  *  *

Tonight’s second-half meditation turned out to be a beautiful past-life regression – my fourth under Chaty’s peaceful guidance. I am still unable to visualize anything more than faint images, but my intuition is gradually improving in its ability to fill in the unseen details.

In tonight’s regression, I found myself living in a monastery in Tibet. It was impossible to visually place anything even close to the calendar year because bald heads and orange robes in such old monasteries never seem to go out of style – but intuition suggested that this scene took place several hundred years ago.

When Chaty asked us to look around to see if we recognized anyone who was with us, I was unable to visually distinguish details of anyone’s face, but I definitely sensed that my dear friend Michelle was there – not as one of my fellow followers, but as the abbot of the monastery. I even walked down a large ornate hallway leading to her chambers where she was a devout monk, sitting in her ceremonial chair – but still, no faces.

I felt the presence of my second to youngest son, and my dear friend Susan, and also intuitively knew that many of my close spiritual friends were also present somewhere in the crowd – but could not decipher any more intuitive details.

Suddenly I intuitively realized that it was during this lifetime when I made my blood oath contract to “work work work” until I achieved enlightenment – no matter how many lifetimes it may take. I intuitively sensed that I was happy, but belonged to a secret order of monks who were a little more intellectual than the others, and we had secretly stumbled onto some powerful magical abilities. I intuitively knew that it was with that group that I made the oath written in my own blood (though I did not actually see this part in my regression).

For some reason, I felt a deep desire to discover if Michelle, or if any of my present-day family or friends had been a part of that secret group. Intuition told me that “No, no-one that I currently know in this lifetime was part of that secret order.”

*  *  *  *  *

As I prepare for yet-another extremely early bedtime, my intestines are churning up a storm. Intuition tells me that my growth lessons related to physical pain are complete, at least for now, so I have decided to allow medical science to intervene on the scene.

With a prayer in my heart, I just slipped an Imodium AD onto my tongue (a wonderful magical pill that I have avoided for some time) and washed it down with a refreshing swig of water. I can only hope that the gurgling will stop soon. Regardless of what occurs during this night-to-come, one thing is certain. I will find peace.

Wednesday, September 15 – 12:30 p.m.

The last 36 hours have been quite unlike anything I would have planned. After going to bed on Monday, I was blessed with another six hours of restless Temperance practice. My tummy finally stopped gurgling shortly after midnight. But physical trauma is not at all what I want to write about. There are other more important things going on in my life.

Quite unexpectedly, as I lay in bed Monday night, wondering if sleep might be in my probable future, a surprise poem began to flow in my mind.

“You should write this down.” the thought flashed through my intuition.

“I don’t want to.” I replied feeling initially annoyed. “I am trying to go to sleep.”

Then I was quite surprised when I realized that I actually wanted to sit up to write the few words that I could still remember.

I will share those “words that flowed” very soon, but first I have to lay a little background.

*  *  *  *  *

I have only written two other poems in my entire life. The first was in elementary school. That was an emotionally destructive experience that stifled my creativity for much of my life. I had slaved for an entire evening creating a beautiful little poem about my pet dog. I thought it was quite good – but a few days later, when my teacher returned the paper to me with comments, I was devastated. I internalized the teacher’s harsh criticism and stuffed my creative instincts into the depths of a dark steel vault. For the vast majority of my life, I have felt sheer terror at the thought of exposing a more creative side.

My second poem completely boggled my mind. It was more than 40 years later, in mid February, 2007, after an amazing spiritual day of enjoying the unbelievable energy of the Salt Flats in Western Utah. During that day I had suddenly received powerful intuitive insights telling me that the next chapter of my life-story book would be titled “The Music Within”. (This is a book that I fully intended to finish writing after I began traveling 15 months ago. But alas, my blog has preempted that effort – perhaps one day I will get back to that book).

Late that evening, as I returned to the privacy of my own home, I was so exhausted that “going-to-bed” was the only rational thought in my mind. But as I prepared to walk to my bedroom, an unexpected intuition quite powerfully instructed me to first turn off the lights and to sit quietly in the dark at my kitchen table.

Almost immediately, I found myself picking up a pen and a piece of paper as I began capturing the un-thought words that began pulsing rapidly through my heart. I did not pause to think as I wrote. I hurried to capture every word that flowed effortlessly through my mind and then my pen. Tears of emotion streamed down my cheeks as I began to realize the meaning of what I found myself writing. It was not long before the magical words stopped, just as suddenly as they had started. It was then that I realized I had channeled a poem. This poem was physically recorded with my 51-year-old hands. However, the words were dictated by a frightened 12-year-old little boy, my frightened and hopeless inner child within.

Today, I feel deeply prompted to share this poem – beautiful intuitive words channeled to me by that child who was so genuinely seeking to find a way to survive the emotional pain.

The Melody’s Strong
by Brenda (and Bobby) Larsen

The melody’s strong
But the words are forbidden
In this song of life that is me.

How can I sing the songs of my heart?
How can my feelings find light amidst dark?
The melody’s strong
But the words are forbidden.

Deep in my soul the words are so clear
But I can’t express them through all of the fear.
To truly be me is all I desire.
The melody’s strong
But the words are forbidden.

To live my life free, how would that be?
Free to be me, the real me?
The melody’s strong,
But the words are forbidden.

The words can’t be sung,
But the songs are still there,
Notes playing, with words that aren’t spoken.
The melody’s strong,
But the words are forbidden,
Only to be heard by me.

*  *  *  *  *

Since that magical evening over three and a half years ago, I have never had even the slightest fantasy of trying to write another poem. But this past Monday night, my intuition seemed to be giving me no choice.

Unlike my “The Melody’s Strong” poem, the words of this new poem did not flow quite as effortlessly. I would intuitively hear them and then they would partially disappear before I could write them. As soon as I did try to write, I felt as if my brain was getting in the way, blocking my channel from flowing completely freely. After about 45 minutes of scribbling down what I had, going back to bed, experiencing another flash of corrective intuition, getting back up and writing some more, etc…, I finally had a finished product.

This poem is nowhere near as magically inspired as my second, but I have to share it anyway. The Universe gave it to me as a very appropriate message that I know is directly applicable in my current journey.

The Towering Tree
By Brenda Larsen

How would it feel to simply be
To be like the heart of a towering tree
Taking no thought, for today or tomorrow
Nor concerning myself, with past pain or sorrow
To flow with tides, and the seasons of time
Accepting life as it comes, with nary a whine

Embracing the stillness, the noise, and the storm
Staying calm through it all, seeing each as the norm
Cut, chopped, or burned; simply saying “Oh well”
“Another lesson to learn, surely time will tell”

How would it be to intuitively know
That giving up ego is the best way to go
How would it feel to simply be
To be as strong, yet innocent, as that towering tree

After writing the above poem, words to another short poem demanded to be released into my notebook. I just laughed as I finished.

Now Is The Time
By Brenda Larsen

Now is time …
To expose a creative side that has never been seen
To shine brilliant lights, once stifled by shame
To trust fully my heart in creative endeavors
To drop fear and doubt from my radar forever

Ignoring the rules, the shoulds, and the musts
Simply opening heart’s love
Without concern for rhyme, cadence, or opinions of others

*  *  *  *  *

I finally got to sleep on Monday night around 12:30 a.m., and felt remarkably energized at 6:30 a.m. on Tuesday morning. I had intended to skip yoga, but went anyway, feeling a strong desire to attend one last session.

Afterward, Tuesday morning’s final class with Chaty was a beautiful experience – a loving open discussion sharing recent experiences, talking about our upcoming seven days (and beyond), and then engaging in formal ceremonies to officially start the final phase of our retreat.

As expected, Chaty asked us to drop all structure and to immerse ourselves in a timeless flow of present-moment meditative spinning. I was quite surprised to hear her say that we can attend yoga and evening meditation if we like. But my heart just smiled and intuitively told me that I will be flying free on a very different schedule.

Chaty also pointed out that now was the time to begin soups and juices if we had not yet done so – but when I asked about my still weak state after this weekend of stomach unrest, she told me to remain healthy as a first priority. I decided to eat fruit and rice for at least one more day before I shake up my intestinal world-down-under yet again.

Now What?

To my surprise, the first feeling that hit me as I walked out of the small Sun Course temple on Tuesday morning was a feeling of stuck-ness and apathy – a sense of ongoing confusion about whether fully immersing myself into a week-long symbolic quest for the secret keys of the Tree of Life is what my heart really wanted to be doing.

As I grappled with the unsettling dilemma, a strong intuitive feeling told me that what I needed to do before anything else – beginning right now – was to do something Chaty had told us not to do.

I was strongly guided by undeniable intuition instructing me to go back into my blog and read everything that I have written since beginning the Guatemala phase of my Spiritual Journey – starting right back with my “Forget Everything You Know” dream last March. Even though this made absolutely no logical sense, I somehow intuitively knew that engaging in this reading was necessary for me to recharge my heart and soul. The act of reviewing every step of these past six months would reconnect me with my mission – my inspired journey – and would bring me closer to the answers I need.

After grabbing a quick breakfast of fruit and yogurt I soon embraced my inspired quest, stopping my reading only for meals and restroom runs. A few hours later, a power outage struck this section of San Marcos, and I intuitively knew it would be a long one. I had heard power lines arcing wildly about 50 yards away right before the power fizzled. The last time this occurred, nearly 12 hours passed before electricity was restored. I began watching the steady drain of my laptop battery, knowing that all was well. I giggled as I figured out that the Universe had this all planned – that I need not worry about battery life.

Finally, shortly after 7:30 p.m., after having read for seven and a half hours, and having only reached into my early August writings, my battery officially gave out. My room was dark and cold, the dirt paths outside were pitch black, and I was all alone with my candles.

Amazingly, I experienced a feeling of energy and enthusiasm, saying “I am ready for the night, bring it on. Fear no longer exists.”

If the power had not gone out I would most likely have read late into the evening until midnight or later – changing the entire sequence of subsequent events.

Bring It On

Not knowing what to do next, I simply immersed myself in present intuitions. First I meditated. The experience was so-so, as my heart was still not really into it. Then, I decided to see if I could get any energy to move around in my body – again, no doing.

Finally, I just drifted off to sleep, deciding that the Universe would wake me when appropriate – knowing that I would indeed get up without hesitation should that moment arrive.

At ten minutes to midnight I awoke from my first remembered dream – nothing really worth writing about, but I methodically recorded the details in my dream journal – details of a fun and silly dream experience.

As I tried to go back to sleep, and not having any success in the effort, a feeling of intuition told me “Get up now. It is time for something different.”

While sitting on the edge of my bed, meditating, I felt a sense of new-found energy and enthusiasm regarding the symbolism of the Tree of Life. I grabbed my little collection of notes and began devouring tidbits of wisdom about the Sephirah called Netzach – the seventh sphere that represents the creative energy forces in our life. After having just written two quick poems, it only makes sense that my intuitions would bring me to Netzach.

After a while I had a strong desire to study and meditate on a few related tarot cards, so in a matter of seconds my red cloth was spread out on the floor and I found myself sorting through the deck to separate out the 22 Major Arcana.

Soon, the “Chariot” card demanded my attention. The symbolism of the card began to come alive in my heart. I saw several things in the card that had never before been obvious – but now they seemed clear as day.

This little quest for symbolic understanding went on for just over an hour, at which time I simply knew it was time to return to my pillow.

Sleeping remarkably soundly (compared to how I have been sleeping) I only left my bed two more times during the night. During each sleep interruption I recorded the details of my latest remembered dream before scurrying off to a nearby outdoor building. It was on the first such trip that I noticed that the outdoor lights were back on.

I won’t give details of these dreams now – they don’t feel very significant, but nevertheless, I think I will meditate on them after a quick lunch break.

*  *  *  *  *

This morning (Wednesday), I woke up quite early for the second day in a row. Today is Guatemala’s Independence Day and there have been numerous joyful celebrations taking place in the town – beginning as early as 5:00 a.m., and lasting well into the late evening. Most of the festivities are nearly a half mile away, but the volume levels are cranked so loud that the party sounds as if it is unfolding right outside my door. I suspect that tonight’s festivities will be even more elaborate.

Being true to my heart’s prompting, I jumped out of bed at 6:00 a.m. and slipped right back into my marathon reading. As I took a breakfast break at 9:30 I first enjoyed a delightful small town parade. I easily heard the booming and penetrating drums from my room (drums that have been practicing almost daily for a month or two) and I just had to get a peak at a delightful small-town cultural event. My heart guided me to ignore an imagined little voice of Chaty telling that I should not to venture into the city to watch.

As 2:30 p.m. now ticks away on my clock, I am finally caught up with my heart’s promptings. In total, I spent just under 12 hours in reading my blog (wow!) and nearly three hours catching up in my writing. Amazingly, I feel as if my reading efforts have indeed reenergized my soul. It is as if my power cord had been unplugged for a while, and now, during the past 24 hours, my batteries have been fully recharged. Amazing how that works.

Tah-tah for now. It is time to go eat what will probably be my last rice of the Sun Course. Tomorrow I plan on starting juices and blended soups.

Thursday, September 16 – 8:50 a.m.

What a beautiful night. After writing yesterday afternoon, I ate my final plate of rice and returned to my room to ponder and meditate. By 5:00 p.m. I felt physically drained so I told myself “What the heck … I can sleep whenever and be awake any time I want … so why not go to bed now?”

I remember how confused I was when I woke up shortly after 6:30 p.m., having just had a vague dream that I could no longer remember. My still-burning candle gave me the feeling that it must be morning already. When I checked my clock, I began to giggle.

For the next few hours I alternated between relaxation, meditation, yogic breathing, and partial sleep. Finally, I blew out my candles and went to sleep around 9:00 p.m.. The boisterous Independence Day celebration in town continued loudly until shortly after 12:30 a.m.. The only way I know this is because I woke up a couple of times for restroom breaks. The “old me” could never have slept through such loud noisy disturbance as that. I would have been so annoyed and judgmental that my emotions would never have allowed me to relax. The “new me” simply embraced the joyful concert music blasting loudly in my direction. Without even using ear plugs (which wouldn’t have blocked the intense sound anyway), I dozed off comfortably. Perhaps I have changed just a little. (LOL)

At 2:00 a.m. I found myself wide awake. Eagerly I got up and sat on the edge of my bed, wondering what I should do now. By 2:15 I was sitting upright and cross-legged (one foot in front of the other) on my floor, beginning to meditate. To my own amazement, I peacefully meditated in that position for an entire hour, switching leg positions only one time. I felt energized as I stood up at 3:20 a.m., again asking myself “what now?”

During that meditation, a couple of meaningful insights popped into my head. The first had to do with perhaps why I seem to have so much success when meditating with Keith (Chocolate Shaman) versus still tending to struggle with traditional meditation. Out of the blue, the idea popped into my head, reminding me that whenever I sit down with Keith, the first thing I say is “I don’t know why I am here … but I know I want to go deeper.” In other words, with Keith, I have no agenda, no plans, no expectations, and no attachments. However, when I try to engage in traditional meditation, I usually have something I want to achieve – even if the goal is simply a quiet mind.

The second powerful insight came during a moment when my mind seemed to wander. I found myself thinking about a particular young man in the current Moon Course – one perhaps in his low-to-mid twenties – a young man who shows considerable youthful exuberance and enthusiasm, but who also has a tendency to “know everything”. I have never entered a conversation with this beautiful young man – but I have been forced-by- proximity to unwillingly listen in on many of his discussions with others – conversations about politics, and multiple other controversial topics. Invariably, this young man talks with authority, seeming to have all the answers figured out.

At first I felt quite annoyed by Bill’s (not his real name) behavior – that is until I realized that I was projecting my own personality self-judgments outward. One day quite early in the present Moon Course I suddenly figured out that many things about Bill remind me of myself when I was much younger – things which I later rejected and suppressed in myself. Bill’s unbridled enthusiasm and exuberance is occasionally accompanied by careless behavior that oversteps the boundaries of usual social appropriateness. Yet his heart appears to be huge and his behavior filled with genuine intent – both exactly as I was during my younger teen/preteen years.

About a week ago, while wrestling with lack of sleep, a mental letter began to channel itself in my mind. It was an imagined letter from me to Bill – giving him genuine loving advice. First I was telling Bill to never lose his youthful energy, or his zest life – to never let anyone squash his enthusiasm. Second, I was cautioning bill to have a more open mind, to stop thinking he has all of the answers, to be more curious, thinking that just maybe he doesn’t know everything. As I mentally imagined this letter, I saw myself sharing great wisdom that – if accepted – just might help this beautiful young man avoid some of the pitfalls that I have tripped over in my lifetime.

This morning during my early meditation I again imagined myself mentally composing a similar letter. Then, I felt extremely humbled when I suddenly intuitively realized that the letter was really addressed to ME. The imagined words were telling me to never lose my youthful enthusiasm and zest for life – something which I gave up long ago and have still not fully recovered. Most of the time, I still take life far too seriously and cautiously. Even more humbling was to realize that the Universe was telling me – once again – to quit thinking I have all the answers. The words “Forget everything you know” and “Lower your defenses” paraded loudly across my mind.

I realize now that my mind had not been wandering at all – I was simply being guided by spirit – guided to yet another little kick-in-the-pants reminder to be more curious and open.

*  *  *  *  *

After finishing that beautiful meditation at 3:20 a.m., I then switched gears. First, I read a brief excerpt from the Kyballion regarding life’s ever-flowing rhythms. Then I finished off the next hour by mulling over the symbols in every one of the 22 Major Arcana cards of the tarot deck.

Feeling quite proud of myself for spending more than two productive hours being wide awake in the middle of the once-paralyzing night, I finally crawled happily back under the covers around 4:15 a.m., easily falling back to sleep.

I am getting the feeling that maybe I really have successfully shattered that 3:00 a.m. wall. Early evidence seems to hint as much – but long term evidence is what I am seeking.

Later, as first daylight caused me to stir, I was not even tired – not in the least. Now, at 9:00 a.m., I have already done some more meditating/pondering, showered, and caught up on my scribbles. It is time to put on my intuition cap to see where I go from here.

And The Walls Keep Tumbling Down . . . (Thursday, 5:00 p.m. – same day)

Wow! And I thought my 3:00 a.m. wall was my only block to structured meditating. Yes, it was a huge wall, but apparently not my only remaining wall.

This morning, after finishing my writing and going out for a filling fruit smoothie, I felt prompted to immerse myself into an imaginary meditative session with Keith (the Chocolate Shaman). I figured that I could simply pretend that he was there guiding me, and maybe I might just have another cool experience.

After saying “I don’t know why I am here,” imaginary Keith and I jumped into our meditation together. I imagined myself walking over to a wall, opened up a window, and asked my Higher Self for a lesson – one that I was now ready to experience.

I then felt prompted to visualize a basket, trying to see what was inside. As I focused my thoughts, I could feel (not see) a knife, an axe, and a torch. Immediately, I knew these objects were in reference to the words “Cut, chopped, or burned” in my Towering Tree poem – the one I wrote Monday evening. I intuitively knew that I was supposed to see if I could meditate myself into being that towering tree.

As soon as I began trying to imagine what it might feel like being that tree, my mind began to wander. I found myself in major distraction mode – something I have frequently struggled with throughout the last few years of my spiritual journey. For fifteen minutes I repeatedly pulled and tugged my mind back on task, only to have my lazy thoughts wander again, and again, and again. Soon, I felt exhausted and began falling asleep. My mind and body were simply not going to allow me to become that tree. Every possible mental distraction seemed to be racing toward me.

Similar situations from the past flashed into my memory – situations that have been quite common for several years. More often than not, when I try to focus in on a solo meditative task, my mind freezes with distraction, and I run away to a movie, to visit a friend, to read a book, to watch TV etc… I’m not sure if I have ever faced down a situation like this in broad daylight, standing my ground. Memory tells me I have always run away to find yet another distraction when my mind reaches this state.

Suddenly I realized that today’s distraction was an integral part of my imagined process with Keith, and I began to stand my ground, asking myself “Why is this so huge for me? Why am I so unable to concentrate on solo meditation during the daytime? I successfully meditated for two hours early this morning. Why struggle now? Why in broad daylight?”

I pried and excavated in the depths of my mind, knowing that the answer was within me. Intuitions guided me back yet again to childhood pain and fear – the same experiences that terrified me with early morning hopelessness and despair.

Then the answers gradually began to unfold.

In that period of my life, I had tried every “traditional” method of spirituality that I could find – desperately trying to conquer and overcome my evil transgender feelings.  I prayed with all of my heart, I read scriptures with genuine fervor, I begged God for relief, I fasted, I set goals, I religiously attended church meetings, etc…

You name it and I tried it – yet every traditional thing that I tried in the name of spirituality and God did NOT work for me. I felt abandoned, hurt, betrayed by God – a God who (in my belief system) taught that he would help me if I but asked with a sincere heart.

In my late twenties, when my deeply buried personal life was still overwhelmed with agonizing gender struggle, I became angry at traditional Christianity – angry at meaningless prayers, angry at failed goals, angry at worthless scriptures, angry at time wasted in church service. These had all seemed to fail me, and I was at my wits end – still genuinely wanting to cure myself – still desperately wanting to make the evil feelings go away.

Finally, at age 31, I gave up completely on God and religion. “There is no God!” I had told myself in despair as I became a closet atheist. On the outside, while keeping up appearances for family and friends, I continued to pretend to believe in God – but on the inside, I was done with that fantasy. Every form of traditional spirituality was on my blacklist. I mentally rejected them all.

This afternoon, as I continued meditating, I thought of that 12 year old little boy – my genuine young self so very long ago – the one who dictated the poem “The Melody’s Strong.” I re-experienced my helpless and horrified feelings that surfaced after a particularly traumatic and humiliating event in my transgender struggles – an event where I had done some things that later proved to destroy that little boy’s social confidence, driving him even further inward into his ever-thickening protective shell.

In a powerful way, I remembered the pure emotions of that genuine little boy, so desperately wanting to be cured – feeling so deeply confused as to why he could not control the strange perverted desires to explore the feminine gender. I had begged God for help in stopping. I could not seem to stop. I plead with Holy Spirit for guidance. I seemed to receive none. I lived righteously. My behavior was exemplary in every way (except of course my hidden gender struggles). I was genuine and pure in heart, desperately hoping for a cure that never came.

“Why is God abandoning me?” I frequently thought in despair.

Yes, this afternoon, with tears running down my cheeks, I relived a few more sobs of that childhood pain – vicariously re-experiencing deep emotions of anger, confusion, and hopelessness – emotions of loneliness and abandonment by God.

While allowing myself to experience these emotions as if they happened only yesterday, I was at the same time seeing them with my present-day loving spiritual perspective. I am now extremely grateful for everything that took place during those once-agonizing years. I realize that my divine guides had done everything perfectly– every step of the way through my difficult life. They quietly comforted me, but simply could not interfere in a path that I alone needed to follow – a path that needed to unfold exactly the way that it did.

I tried to imagine what I would have done if I were tasked with being one of my Spiritual Guides. It would have been a difficult and thankless job. I verbally thanked my guides – gratefully acknowledging them for the dedicated manner that they guided and protected me while having to watch me blindly flail and suffer, burning up in flames of confusion and hopelessness.

I told them “I don’t think I would have been capable of doing that”, acknowledging how incredibly difficult it must have been to stand by and watch me suffer, even knowing that all was well and that I would eventually be filled with gratitude as I am today.

*  *  *  *  *

Yes, I believe I successfully dynamited yet another invisible wall this morning – this one being a wall of buried subconscious anger aimed at traditional spiritual practices of all types. I honestly cannot remember when I last embraced myself fully into any traditional spiritual ritual. I do not say traditional prayers, I do not attend any organized religious services on a regular basis, I cringe at the thought of reading traditional scriptural texts, and yes, I still struggle with trying to meditate in a traditional way – even though meditation was not a traditional practice of my Mormon roots.

I laugh as I realize that I love non-traditional meditations. My own active style – a style of writing, singing, listening to music, hiking, and talking out loud to Spirit – almost never fails to energize my soul and reconnect me with the divine. And then there is the Chocolate Shaman’s laid back style that literally sends me flying through the skies.

As silly as this may sound, after simply connecting additional “subconscious dots” this morning, I literally feel different. Something inside of my soul shifted, and I’m anxious to find out just what happens next.

*  *  *  *  *

As I reflect back on my Monday evening unexplainable burst of poetic freedom, I am amazed at how that simple little poem about “The Towering Tree” so beautifully shaped my experiences of today. The Universe really is quite the master at synchronous choreography.

Perhaps I am now another step closer to magically becoming the heart of that strong and innocent Towering Tree.

Copyright © 2010 by Brenda Larsen, All Rights Reserved