Our Stories are Re-writing Themselves. Can you feel it?

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Photo by Joe Hedges on Unsplash

I’ve been feeling it in my very bones, in my cells – and most deliciously, in my heart. Honestly, for the last 9 months or so, it’s felt like I was closing my heart because I found my tolerance for certain things was ebbing fast. Thoughts around being nicer, more compassionate, more patient, more loving, …. would come up, but it was as if a river rushed in and carried them away as soon as they did. I spent a lot of time by myself because of it.

Now I see that I wasn’t closing or hardening my heart, I was emptying it of my old patterns of over responsibility that didn’t serve me or the world.

Are you feeling anything similar?

I didn’t seek out this change of heart or work to make it happen, it just evolved.

Having said that, I do acknowledge that I have been wanting, hungering for, waiting for a change that I could sense was hovering near the edge of my web. And for the first time in a very long time I sensed that there was nothing I could do to make it happen. Working “hard” at things is something else I just don’t seem to have much tolerance for anymore. What a relief that is! I’d been feeling so old and now I feel new energies and a delightful sense of vitality moving through me.

Do you find yourself letting go of “putting your nose to the grinding stone’? (What a terrible image that expression calls forth!)

Lorna Bevan of Hare in the Moon Astrology writes:
“… your soul clock is reminding you that it’s time. And isn’t it interesting , liberating yet strange to feel yourself transforming from the inside out without working on yourself? That’s right – you don’t need to do anything, or buy a self-help book or start a practice with rules or pay someone else to tell you what you need. Nothing is wrong, nothing is missing – this is what conscious evolution looks and feels like.”

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Photo by Nicolai Dürbaum on Unsplash

I feel uncertain moments as I navigate this new field, which asks me to use new tools. But it’s also exciting and I’m enjoying the possibilities.

What new possibilities are you discovering in your field?

 

 

Please – Like, share, follow, comment and forward to friends and colleagues. Head shot (2)I’m Coleen Rhalena Renee, spiritual healer and teacher. I appreciate you helping me pass along these insights, teachings and thoughts to ponder.  I’m deeply grateful to all my readers and thank you for your support and for the work you do to heal the world and celebrate its beauty. 

If you need assistance in walking your path visit my website and considering working with me, if what I offer resonates with you. Many blessings, ~ Coleen

 

What if … It’s Not So Bad?

Hang on. There’s a celestial storm coming on Wednesday (full moon, super moon, eclipse and more) that’s reputed to be intense and asking us to prepare for a year of:

no brakes, fallout, powerful cosmic tides, physical elemental chaos

(breathe, sing, move a little – it might not be so terrible)

It’s part of an intense year. Astrologer, Lorna Bevan tells us:

“If vision and practical skills are brought into a place beyond either one, new worlds can come into being. Tenacity is the key. You have to see the pattern, inscribe the pattern, and let it set collectively.”  (read more)

(breathe, sing, move a little)

When I read this last bit, I was relieved that there was a way through the storm and then immediately overwhelmed by how much work it all sounded like. Are you with me?

Then I reminded myself, we have actually been in this weather since August’s eclipse. This is the 2nd act and will help us understand things as the dust settles. 2018 will be a year of major transformation for us individually and collectively. But aren’t we actually longing for change? Aren’t we tired of carrying around the old stories that inhibit our living rather than supporting it?

I know it’s weird – at least to admit out loud – but when I was a child living in Ohio, I loved tornadoes. You could tell they were coming: the air sizzled with electricity, the sky changed to an odd dirty yellowish color, the wind picked up – and, you might even be able to see the funnel coming before you closed the root cellar door.

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Photo by Lucy Chian on Unsplash

Like Dorothy, I knew life might never be the same. I also knew that I lived in a town that was at the confluence of two rivers and the likelihood of a tornado crossing both rivers and finding us was relatively slim.

Some in the cellar shook with fear and huddled in fetal positions anticipating the worst. My mother would often sing to calm us and let us know she trusted we’d be fine (yes, that might have been a ruse, but it was helpful).

What was I doing? Well, if you’ve been reading my posts, you know how connected I am to the land. I was listening to the song of the wind as I breathed in the earthy scent of the cellar. I was wishing I could dance with that wind and feeling grateful for the protection of being in the earth, just in case. I was rocking my younger siblings to comfort them and eagerly anticipating the moment we could leave the cellar and see what the world now looked like. I could sense the magic in it all.

We’d always take a drive after everything calmed down again. We’d check to see that neighbors and family were safe. We’d marvel at the refrigerator in the middle of a plowed field. We’d pray for those whose homes or businesses were no longer where they’d once been – and lend a hand where necessary.

We never talked about it, but despite the damage we might see around us, there was always the sense of the world sighing in relief. All the pressures and energies that had come together to create the storm had been released. It was obvious that there was work to do, things to clean up, lives to resurrect – but after the initial eerie silence, the air had a freshness about it. We’d find ourselves saying things like, “We don’t have to worry about that rickety barn falling on someone anymore.”

Yes, we have a lot of strong winds ahead of us in 2018. There is risk, danger, potential, … We can choose this year to live in a place with two rivers: Lorna’s rivers of vision and practical skills; or the river of speaking our truth and the river of acknowledging our most tender dreams. The need to recognize these rivers was revealed with the eclipse in August. Did you notice? “Me too.”

Let’s go to the root cellar – not to hide out until it’s over, but to get in touch with what roots and grounds us, what helps us hold our place in life. Let’s take flashlights to help reveal our own truths.

Resistance is futile. The storm is already here – the shudders have been banging and the windmill has been screeching. We are being gifted with this incredible opportunity to let go of the stories we carry that don’t feed our lives, to clear the path and walk in new ways.

The coming winds are not after us to punish or devastate. The storms are here to help blow down the rickety barns and transform our landscapes (inner and outer) to support our dreams, build our community and invite us into co-creativity.

In my book, that’s not so bad. We can trust nature and her celestial dances to continue in their everlasting cycle – to remind us that new life always follows any death. We can certainly choose to deny or resist what is happening. Or, we can enter the mystery with a sense of wonder. We can honor and give gratitude for what no longer serves and do the work of releasing what is not sustainable. We can consciously choose the seeds of new life and do the work of planting and cultivating those seeds.

Vision, practical skills, needed change, potential, wonder, anticipation, new life,…

Yep, it’s not that bad. I can’t wait to see what the world will look like after it all settles. In fact, I think I’ll start imagining its beauty right now.

I’m grateful to share this information and my personal stories/insight around them with you – ways that I navigate it all.  I also love hearing from you and look forward to your stories of facing storms or sharing what new seeds you want to cultivate.

Thanks for reading and being part of my circle.

Blessings, ~ Coleen

 

My Undoing

I know I’m in good company these days as I feel like so much is falling apart in my life. I thank the Goddess that I’ve been here before; I know to look for the treasure. I also know to remind myself how I’ve always come through this sort of transformation feeling blessed and incredibly grateful. So even in the darkest moments, I find at least a sprinkle of trust in the process.

I got my We’Moon calendar in the mail this week. True to tradition, I immediately went to my year at a glance astrology page for my sun, moon and rising signs. I don’t rule my life from astrological info, but I do respect the patterns it shows me and truly appreciate the heads up for what energies might be moving through my life. It helps me prepare and is an incredibly helpful reference for those dark moments.

So much of what began last August is sprouting in these early months of 2018. I have been in crisis – a crisis of faith, of questioning my work path, of my relationship with my body, of my ideas of who I am and how I walk in the world.

My year at a glance:

  • Skeletons hiding in the family closet are waiting to be excavated, as are profound currents of intergenerational healing.
  • Revamp mental constructs that inhibit your expression of innate creative energy.
  • A call for all-out commitment and deep transformation, often through struggle and crisis.
  • Don’t get too serious about the work of Service.
  • Keep growing as you seek out what nurtures your innermost being and creative essence.
  • This is not a year to play it small, so dream big and sail forth.

While such directives might send one into a spin, or at least back to bed to cover their head – I admit to feeling an incredible sense of relief. I’m well into these tasks of transformation, which tells me I’m in alignment with my path and purpose. Or, in not so spiritual terms, there’s purpose in this shit storm.

This for me is a moment of joy and an opportunity to release doubt and fear. I haven’t been making things up, I haven’t been stewing in a spiral of self-sabotage. I am in an initiatory cycle. Initiation always involves challenges, doubts, fears, undoing. In the last couple weeks I’ve felt like a vessel with many cracks; I don’t seem to be able to hold anything for long.

Yet, I’ve experienced an equally strong sense that I am not broken. In fact, I’ve felt a compulsion to resist anything that hints at me being broken. I find myself thinking a lot

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Photo by Paul Talbot on Unsplash

about kaleidoscopes. I’ve always had a great fondness for them – always the same matrix, but so many expressions and perspectives.

The cracks feel like an invitation to release the matrix that is the kaleidoscope of my life: to let go of stories that were never mine; to release expectations and old dreams; to stand on the brink of nothingness; to rest until I’m ready to choose, with sacred discernment, the matrix for my new kaleidoscope.

This kind of clarity, these strong images that evoke such intense emotions in me, the affirmation from the stars that I’m in alignment – they tell me that I’ve made it through the darkest, most fierce part of the storm. I may be buffeted about by strong winds here and there, but dawn is breaking. This New Day , a song by Kelliannaspeaks to me of this moment in an initiatory cycle.

I’m so grateful to have been through this cycle enough times to know its nature and to know things will shift, are shifting. I’m also grateful to be able to articulate it so that I can share with you the certainty of the cycle moving, as we collectively face such erratic change in our world.    ~ Blessings, Coleen

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Photo by Nikolay Avakyan on Unsplash