Over the course of the last two years, I have experienced death, disease, and divorce delivered upon my doorstep. And my doorstep has changed location three times within those two years, as well. On a personal level, my life fell apart. Or at least what I’d previously thought of as living. I kept trying to sustain some semblance of life as I knew it, some sense of the nonsense of it all. Ultimately, the experiences just kept hitting harder, digging deeper and rooting into the viscera of my being. It was as if every waking moment I’d discovered a newly buried land mine inside my core, burning within my flesh with each unanticipated eruption.
I went to bed exhausted. Woke up in pain and unrested. I cried. I screamed. I fell apart.
I fell apart.
Then I met someone who had professed their undying love to me. Someone I thought was the answer to it all. Someone that would help me emerge from the cocoon a magnificent creature of love and light. Someone I will always care for very deeply. Then another bump in the road. This time the spiral downward was quicker, deeper, and resulted in complete exile. I wasn’t a person without a homeland. I was a being without being. A soulless wanderer of the expansiveness of numb. I was on the underbelly of rock-bottom, questioning. What was the purpose of existence at all?
I would lie on the shower floor, water had long run cold, and beg for answers between grout lines. Trace grains of debris with fingertips and emptied trails of thought. I eventually shut down completely. I became robotic in the most basic of daily tasks that are required of one. I was a lifeless form of tissue and bone no longer caring about appearances or what people think. I deleted all social media. Got rid of cable. And only spoke to a minuscule few, necessary for my meager existence.
I traversed the landscape of numb and became one with the silence.
Then, I began a daily yoga practice. During the first week, I discovered my heart was completely closed, my ancestral DNA muddied, my strength pathetic, my balance compromised, and the divine feminine, not only within me but for the entire collective, has been purposefully kept subdued, hidden and secret. We’ve been lied to, and so many unknowingly and unwittingly continue the verbiage to perpetuate this mass murder of the divine feminine here on this earth.
I began to reassess EVERYTHING in my life. I’ve spent the last nine months on a deeply personal inward journey, on what I can only call: a soul mission. A journey into the divine feminine within. The last nine months have been the most transformative ones I’ve breathed life into. And here is what I’ve learned…
There are no saviors. We have to save ourselves.
Answers only come in silence.
Nature is restorative.
Everything is energy.
Love is fuel.
Self-love is the only necessary love. For without love of thy self, one cannot truly love another. And no love offered or given can ever be fully accepted if one does not love themselves. At the beginning of my downward spiral into the recesses of numb, I thought that losing the love of another ‘the one’ was the end. But what I now know is you cannot lose something you never had. The end was the beginning.
So why am I here sharing this deeply personal mantra—
I just finished another yoga class today and it hit me: my heart has opened, my strength is expanding, my balance is shifting, and my footprint on the divine feminine collective has emerged within.
I am LOVE.
I am light.
I am whole.
I am enough.
And I have a voice with a message to share.
In the midst of all of my losses and the shedding that has taken place over the last two years, but more specifically the last nine months—I’ve transformed. I’ve emerged from my cocoon. I’ve become that magnificent creature of love and light, and I have no idea of the exact moment when it happened. What I do know and what propelled me to share my story is this. . .
During this journey called life: if it is a passion, it will not burn softly. It will ignite and burst into flames whether we go willingly or not. So do what you love! And that is what brings me here today.
Some of you may know that I also used to curate a literary magazine called Ink In Thirds. During the aforementioned soul journey, I also had to let go of Ink In Thirds and to be honest, it was the hardest thing to let go. Writing and encouraging the proliferation of creative works is my greatest passion, and I now know it aligns with my soul purpose.
A few days ago, I received a message in regard to Ink In Thirds and how it has been missed in the literary community. What I can only refer to as divine intervention, energy alignment, or angels among us has rained down on Ink In Thirds and made this resurrection possible. For the sole purpose of respecting the privacy of the individual involved, I will leave it at this: I cannot begin to express the deepest level of gratitude I hold for the initial message and subsequent interest and energy involved in bringing the magazine back to life. I am thrilled to announce that Ink In Thirds will be open for submissions once again, and back online and in print!
Remember. There are no saviors. We have to save ourselves, and that begins with self-love. However, through the emergence of self-love comes sustained energy and output. We are all connected. On this energy grid of life, we share and swap energies and currents all the time. We give and take in equal measure and true inner strength is gained within the balance of it all. Balance is the key. (Now I’m getting ahead of myself so I will pause here with that final thought. Balance. That is my word for the new year and the message I plan to expand.)
Without the self-love and belief of the abundance of miracles and energy transference I know I would not be writing to share my extreme gratitude for the beauty of the process and how I feel truly touched and blessed by the kindness of a stranger, a fellow energy traveler, a friend.
All my love and ink,