The Loud Sound of Quiet

There’s a quiet, which happens when the end of something comes. I heard it before and while my dog died. I heard it again a few nights ago. For once, the silence was louder than all the noise outside.

Louder than the traffic noise from the highway. Than helicopters buzzing in the skies. Dogs barking. The yellow utility fan blowing cold air inside the house. A week of homeschooling (child in house all day). Chatter in my head about money. All taking a muted back seat to the silence within.

This doesn’t happen very often. Usually I have to escape the noise and find an external quiet spot to get quiet and even then the internal noise is still too loud. But something is shifting, and I’m listening. In the silence of that moment, I heard the soul whisper, It’s over. The time of so much change and so little abundance. The time of so much pressure and so little peace. So much restriciton and so little freedom. The time of squeezing. It’s over. 

You might say (or truer yet, my Sergeant Williamson says), Nikki there is always abundance. There is always peace. There is always freedom. You just have to choose them. I could defend this, but I am going to let it be. No need. We go through what we must. Handle it as we do. And in time come through to another side.

On the other side of pressure. Restriction. Lack. Worry- is a space of silence and knowing, which whispers, It’s over. Not the kind of over that mimics former president Bush’s sign, ‘Mission Accomplished’ as he boasted an end of a war that was far from over, but more of an over where spring turns into summer and summer turns into fall and fall into winter. Where once summer occurs, spring can no longer be seen. Sometimes not even remembered, until of course it arrives again.

As we try to concrete our experiences here, we forget our life is cyclical. Our movement rhythmical. The darkest times carrying with them pressure and suffering seem to never want to leave. The brighter days, where are souls are happy and free we think will always last, or at least we want them to. During my dark days, I forgot what it felt like to love. I didn’t realize this until I got a text from my daughter- the same moment I was listening to the silence.

Earlier I was at Target, arriving much too late to look at my favorite designer Missoni, and their new wares. All that was left- a pair of black suede pumps. I don’t even wear pumps, but thought I might charge them. I sent my daughter a text with a picture of them, asking for her opinion. I didn’t buy the shoes and her reply came several hours later.

Unless you love them, I wouldn’t get them. 

When I had money, I was open to finding things I loved because if I loved it I felt I could buy it. Living within my meager means of the past several years, I’ve turned that openness off. Yes, I speak only of materialistic means- shoes, clothes, etc but little did I know I turned off my love valve everywhere else as well. I stopped loving my job as homemaker/parent. I forgot I loved to write. I stopped loving clothes because mine were ripping and sadly out of date. I stopped loving my hair that was falling out. I stopped loving the small things, like curling up with a good book or taking a hot, lavender scented bath. I stopped loving going out and participating. I stopped loving life, and then life sort of stopped. Or ran increasingly stale. This has been the cycle of the past several years.

The whisper says, It’s over…

So what does over look like? At present there isn’t a DJ playing Celebration outside of my window. I have yet to see a fat lady sing, unless I start. There is no amount of cash in my mailbox…yet. But spring usually doesn’t start with hot sunshine and cookouts on the beach either. It starts with the appearance of the first robin. A small sliver of grass. Wet patches of water and ice on the sidewalks, that were once mounds of snow.

Here are my signs: I laugh more. A man at 7-11 with a foreign tongue said to me while using a full circle hand gesture, I appreciate you like this. I am finally dealing with my 11-year old daughter- sitting down with her every weekday morning to help her learn the basics of life and school that she hasn’t received. I remembered I LOVE writing. I bought two Missoni items online that I do love. And I am learning Italian, the language of love. But the truest sign, is the silent sound within my soul, the truest companion I know, whispering to me, It’s over.

To hear the silence on the inside is the gift given when we survive being squeezed from the pressure of our dark days. To have the silence override the surface chaos is what it means to live from the inside out, and to do so in a conscious, direct way. To hear the silence on the inside means we no longer get as twisted and turned about by the winds of change, and S P A C E proceeds again for what we love. We hear the silence. We sense the rhythms. We know when one way ends and another begins. We grieve and we celebrate within the two, and we do it all while saying non mi dispiace (Italian for, I don’t mind).

Off to Big Bear for some (more) peace and quiet- and laughter. I will report again next week.

Namaste,

The Soul Reporter

What’s Going On…?

I’m concerned. I’ve “met” a few people online. These people are kindred souls, or so it seems. We “like” each other’s updates. We may chat on line or email exchange. And then we might share a link or post an update or add a comment that shares our political or religious views/opinions- and then as they say, ‘the shit hits the fan.’

Example: I watched Fahrenheit 9-11 last week. I posted a comment about my experience of watching it again 10 years later, and a “friend” shared a link of a documentary that delved into another theory of 9-11, suggesting the government was behind 9-11 and there were bombs planted inside the towers. I had seen this before, and watched again with interest. After watching, I asked this “friend” why? Why would “they” want to do this? She posted another link about President Obama. I didn’ t finish the video, but what I gathered is he, like most presidents are puppets to coroporations, and specifically the Federal Reserve, which I have heard is privately owned.

During John Kerry’s democratic convention, a nice looking young man, named Barack Obama came onto the stage and lit my fire. He inspired forward a message of unity sitting stagnant inside of me and I said to myself, who is this guy? I like Barack. I always have. I believe he is a good man. I told my “friend” this, and also said that these political conversations don’t go anywhere because someone is usually trying to convince the other they are right.

She told me a good man wouldn’t have attended the church he did or married a woman who wrote some black supremacist diatribe against the “very culture who established the educational system she attended.” She went on to say I was blinded by my desire to have faith.  I told her that conspiracy theories, true or not are a distraction unless we are willing to revolt and take back our country. I told her I stand by my feeling about Barack and would admit I was wrong if he actually was the monster many portray him to be. I realized after I spent time bashing Bush, that I have no idea what it is like to be president, and therefore to judge the way the position is held is ignorant.

And this is where it got weird, and ugly. She brought up my decision to homeschool (in an eery throw it in my face sort of way) because of the faulty LA schools, she mentioned my husband, who is black. She told me all I do is contemplate my navel and asked, “What do you do for the world besides talk about yourself?” She then said she wouldn’t disclose any of the secrets (I guess) I told her because she is honest that way, and for now our paths will no longer cross. And then ended with the ever lovely, “Bless.” I was deleted from her Facebook friends and Twitter. Poof. Gone. See ya.

Here is why I am concerned. I have met others like this woman online and face-to-face in the past year or so. These people seem to spend a lot of time in isolation, in front of their computers. Here they explore these conspiracies and over time believe they are true. Also, the virtual friends they make allows them to fantasize about relationships that aren’t really real, except of course in their own mind. My projection of this woman in particular is she believed we were kindred spirits- that she had a friend in me, but as soon as I shared my own thoughts, which didn’t mesh with her own, she seemed to feel oddly betrayed and was done. And not only done, but threatened enough to attack in what she believed were vulnerable places for me.

You might say, who cares. But, while they might fear the government, I fear for them. The government and all the corruption that goes along with it, is an entity I choose not to focus on for the same reasons I am passionate about spirituality, but choose not to get involved with channeling and past lives and ghosts- it’s a distraction, and a can be a dangerous one.

Voltaire said, we must cultivate our own garden, so in a sense saying all I do is contemplate my navel and talk about myself is all I am supposed to do. It is really all I can do. It is all I know and want to know better. There isn’t enough looking within. There is too much looking out. This does not make one who does this naieve or selfish or unaware of the needs of others.  It makes one establish a solid foundation and from here discern what is empowering and useful and what isn’t, and the brighter, more abundant our gardens, the more there is to share. Back to our government-  I do not doubt there is terrible, ugly curroption within it. I am sure Barack is learning this first hand. But- right now I have no desire to start a revolt. I am still cultivating- and often sharing.

See, there is this law called karma and it happens with or without our saving or fearing the world. The darkness, secrets, lies are all being uncovered right now. It is why the world seems so dark at the moment. Karma is happening. I don’t have to read about conspiracies or get people on my side because what is happening inside the white house walls and corporate board rooms will take care of itself. As they ignorantly believe they are manipulating us, if that is what they are doing, they are merely only twisting tighter their own already tangled webs. Yes, some of us will and do get caught up in it and there are many who call out how unfair it is- but nothing is unfair. It’s karma. It’s what is, and we can look within and learn from what is happening or we can keep pointing the finger and believe our conspiracies and learn nothing, and abandon those who don’t get along with what we believe as Truth, therefore continuing to spread isolation, separateness, fear and ignorance- and from where I sit, the results are in.

In the past year, I have yet to get into a healthy debate or conversation with anyone. Instead I get deleted or ignored or attacked or leave myself, for the projections have gone too far.  I see posts and links and hear people being critical of the president. There is bitching because there was too much hype over Hurricane Irene. Suffering because there was not enough with Katrina. Truth, unity and freedom is discouraged and feared, even though we pride ourselves on encouraging them.

What’s going on….?

This cynicism, paranoia and intolerance is spreading like wildfire. I am reminded of my new dog, Olive. She is still a puppy- an Italian Mastiff. She is an anxious dog. Probably isolated before she came to us. Wasn’t around many other dogs or people. When we take her on walks, or when someone comes to the door, her hackles go up. Our trainer says this is not something we want because when she is anxious and her hackles are up she is more prone to be aggressive.

A Remedy…

There are a lot of people, it would seem whose hackles are up. Looking to be deceived. Abandoned. Betrayed. Look, and you will always find. I believe my “friend” thought I was naive. “Blinded” she said because of my need to have faith in a person (speaking of Barack). She asked, “What makes him good?” He has good in him as we all do. He has darkness too. We all do. There is a point of maturity, which happens if we cultivate our own garden, where we see the darkness in others, but we don’t fear it or condemn it or try and control it- we just notice it. We also Know in them is Perfection, something my dad has been saying to me lately. To not buy into “conspiracies” or “truths” does not mean we are stupid or naive. It means we don’t need to hang onto anything to feel right or secure or affirmed. It means we don’t take any of this so serisously we stamp people out for not agreeing with us. It means we keep our eye on the larger movement happening- that everything is bringing us deeper into our Perfection. As serious as it all is, it’s not that serious.

On the surface we see, feel and often become deeply entrenched in the chaos, but beneath the chaos is absolute perfect, divine order. Keeping at least one eye here, we do not need to argue or disagree or agree or resist or delete or do anything…at all. And in my case, I need not be concerned.

Namaste,

The Soul Reporter

Put It Away

Talk to me about the resistance to putting items away after you use them in your home…

Mail- what do you do with it after you get it out of the mail box? Do you make your bed every morning? What about your bath towel…? Are you like me and hang it up after you shower or like my daughter and keep it on your bed or dresser, damp?

The Handy Dandy Mail Cabinet

Maybe I have a disorder. Putting things away right after I use them. Opening the mail right when I get it and sorting it in my handy dandy mail cabinet. I don’t know, but if I do for me it is a helpful disorder. Not only does it create order inside my home, I think it might also deter chaos from coming into my home. What do you think?

Inspired Homemaking Tip of the Day:

For chaos free living in your home, put your stuff away after you are done using it. Don’t have a place for your stuff…? Well that’s a whole other topic. Our dog trainer said we want our new big dog to fit into our lives, not us fit into hers. For many of us we are allowing the piles of clutter to dominate our lives. Make your space yours by dealing with it before it deals with you. For further tips and suggestions, please comment or email me at nikki@nikkisacredspace.come or go to my Facebook page and we will chat there.

To Sprawl

Today’s Soul Report:

What if we were to see our roots exposed like this tree? How long would they be? How far would they reach? What understanding would this sight bring of who we are and where we have been and where we are going?

I came upon this tree last week. Earlier that week, I had lost our family dog of almost 13 years. This tree brought solace. I sat upon its roots, within its deep crevices. Wisdom. This is what I thought when I first saw the tree. What wisdom it must have, and would it share some with me.

I asked for its message, its lesson for me. I heard the word sprawl. The word sprawl means to spread out over an area in an irregular or untidy way. At first glance, to an “untrained” eye, I suppose the roots do look irregular and untidy. If it were on a person’s personal property they may even be seen as a nuisance, worrying about the foundation they might crack. To my eye, which sees the so called untidiness of nature as beauty and in perfect order, these roots were the most beautiful and magical image I have seen.

But what does the word sprawl mean for me? There is beauty, adventure, magic and beyond this- natural instinct to sprawl- from within our center to outside- everywhere. To touch as much as we can. To reach and expand to and for our fullest potential in this bodily, earthly form.

In my fear. My hesitation. My ability to over-think and out-smart, so not to let too much in for fear I may feel too good or be hurt too badly, I’ve not sprawled and expanded like I long to, as this tree has. As this tree shows. That is its lesson for me. Reach. Expand. Sprawl as I have never done before.

Today’s Soul Tip:

I’ve noticed a certain joy creeping up inside of me in this week of my dog passing. The grief, tells me to be loyal- remember no joy. Something bad has happened. As sad as it was to watch my dog die, as someone said, the experience showed me who I am and who I was in those moments was open, vulnerable and courageous. I faced what I feared. Perhaps facing our fears sprouts our seeds of joy. But how can they grow, if I squash them with my loyalty to sadness and despair. It is not that I choose to deny my grief. I feel it when it is here, but I am also aware I am more comfortable in grief, sadness and despair than I am in joy. I must make room for that which I am unsure of.

When we are being stretched to go beyond what is comfortable, we might feel pissed off. Scared. Disloyal. We think we do not want to be moved beyond what’s pleasant, but actually we do want this. We want to be stretched. Moved. We long to sprawl. Expand. To reach to our fullest potential.

Namaste,

The Soul Reporter