Category Archives: Sergeant Williamson

The Loud Sound of Quiet

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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

The Guru Teaches Arrogance- A Tough Lesson

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Today’s Soul Report:

For awhile something was gnawing at me. Something big, but not big enough for me to see. A shadow, where every time I tried to turn around and see it, it would be behind me again. It wasn’t until I decided to get real honest with my journal and get real drill sergeant like and demand I see, declaring my readiness to see it- that I did. But first, I had to invite an experience into my life so I could see what it was that had been eluding me.

Arrogance runs deep

The culprit- arrogance. Arrogance runs deep, and comes out in many subtle ways, often barely noticeable, but since working with my own, I see it more clearly and see how subtle and deep this trait goes. It is destructive in its ability to separate and leave the other or others isolated, and it is sly, like a fox. It keeps weaving in and out so we don’t see it operating in its myriad ways.

Here are examples of some of those ways:

The experience I invited into my life was a conversation I never quite felt got finished with Marianne Williamson. I wrote a blog, and in this blog, I was sharing my experience with my inner perfectionist- how she talked to me, what she demanded of me- and I addressed her as Sergeant Williamson, seeing her as a combination of a spiritual teacher (I picked Marianne Williamson) and a drill sergeant. No harm done, at least not in my mind. I picked MW because she is a woman. I almost picked Wayne Dyer, but he’s a man and I wanted to make it relatable for me so I could work with this part of me that was making my life confused, miserable and inauthentic.

Ms. Williamson was adamant I was being catty. That I was harsh, and somehow she must have offended me or I would not speak so badly of her. Well, in my arrogance, perhaps a bit of courage, and the desire to take full advantage of an interesting opportunity to stretch, I tried to make spiritual teacher extraordinaire understand I was NOT talking about her. I wanted to have an effect on her evolution, and also really wanted her to let go of this story because it was not true, at least as I wrote it, so to move this further, I stood face to face with her after one of her Monday night lectures, something I would not have thought about if it had not been for one of her adoring fans telling me I must. I must talk to her. “It would be fun. We can go together,” she said. So I went, and the adoring fan never texted me back. The face-to-face exchange with Marianne was just as it was through Twitter, which is where she first contacted me and email, where she contacted me again.

There was no getting through to Marianne. She just would not get that I was not talking about her, and looked at me quizzically when I told her my process (naming it) of outing one of my parts that creates dysfunction in my life. I guess I was naive. I guess I thought I could have a conversation with someone who talks about God, love and forgiveness with some openess. Well after this meeting, I felt pretty good. Empowered. I stood my ground because I can’t nod my head with something I know isnt’ true. And I thought that opportunity had run its course.

Until…

A few days ago. My husband is a fan of her page and made a comment. Being curious I went to her page to see what he said. I don’t even know what he said, but I ran across a comment from her- “People can translate for themselves, and I appreciate those who don’t project all kinds of stuff onto my words that I didn’t say:)” I couldn’t help myself- and I told her “I know how you feel.” She responded, and said she would try and remember that, and also wondered why she (meaning me) is so intent on attacking her all of the time.

From here, a two day conversation began. Not with Marianne. We never heard from her again, but with some of her most loyal fans. In this exchange I saw many different and subtle aspects of arrogance, so much so it brought out my own- mostly in the form of the rebel who is going to call your shit out as I saw it. What I saw are some of the signposts I view as arrogant:

Subtly number one: People telling us their title, and we didn’t ask. Example, I am a psychologist. A doctor. A filmmaker. From said psychologist, I was told that I wasn’t in a very creative and intuitive place when I picked out the name Sergeant Williamson and if I were I would have not picked out Marianne’s name or Wayne’s. Which, brings me to…

Subtly number two: Giving advice when we didn’t ask. The ancients taught, do not teach unless asked. I didn’t ask for this woman’s advice about my writing (or Marianne’s when she told me she had been doing what she does for 20+ years and should really watch what I write). She was not at my writing desk as I wrote that post, and actually, the moment MW and the drill sergeant merged was one of brilliance that only happens when in the creative space.

Subtly number three: When people say “Been there. Done that.” I tend to be honest about how I feel and what I think and where I am in my evolutionary process. This said, I leave myself open for people to give me a lot of, “been there, done thats,” (and that advice I didn’t ask for) Oh, I used to compare myself to others; (which was said and assumed by a loyal follower from this exchange). Oh, I used to care what people thought of me; Oh, I used to be afraid but now I am not- “Been there. Done that.” Great. Super. Is that helpful though? Or does it increase their superiority and cause further isolation? Why say it, other than to prove you no longer struggle, to let us all know what step you aren’t on in your evolution. And if you are so over your stuff, can I now ask you for your advice because I want to be over mine too?

Subtly Number Four: It’s my way or the dumb-way. This exchange had me pretty much hating new agey, spiritual mumbo jumbo, and I used to be kind of into it, but I think I may have been into it because it was the only thing I thought was there that sort of got me. But, most of it isn’t deep enough. It’s too much about the end result- where we are all singing Kumbaya, and not enough about what it takes to get there or gives space for those who aren’t. For me if I am not authentically feeling it, I am not going to preach about it. And for me the only way I can authentically feel it, means I have to dig within myself and find all the obsrtuctions to my authentic joy. Have I had those moments? Yes. I think so. But I’m not done. I can’t speak on the eternal, authentic anything because my focus is to know thyself, or as Volatire says, to culitivate our own garden and this is ongoing, a process. But see, I’ve been arrogant about all of this. My way is the way, preaching my anthem of- please don’t waste your time preaching and pretending all this love and joy when you have so much darkness inside, that is being projected all over the place, that you aren’t owning. As much as I would like it to be everyone’s anthem and deal with stuff, I can only own it for myself. It is what works for me. If others want what I have in my garden, I will share, but the last few years, I’ve been lost in my own arrogance; my attachment to other’s evolution and feeling the pressure to help it along as if this is my duty, my “calling,” more than tending what I used to tend best- my own garden. And yet, I wasn’t out there enough pushing that either, to get people to go my way or the dumb way, which brings me to this lesson:

The fear of arrogance also runs deep.

My husband said recently, if I want to get my teachings, words, writing- basically myself “out there,” I am going to have to find my swag. Be a little cocky even. Oh, God no- how I could I? I resist being arrogant like that. There has to be another way….I would imagine most who are out there, had some swag/arrogance- or perhps a whole lot. Even Gandhi had swag in his own way. He put himself out there and was devoted to what he believed in. So, probably not too much wrong with some swag. But I was afraid of using it and how it might make me look. The fear of being arrogant was a bigger culprit, it would seem, and it wasn’t helping me not be arrogant. It was making me blind to it. We often become what we fear, and our not looking at what we fear doesn’t make it less dangerous or real.

Conclusion:

I invited Marianne, along with some of her loyal fans, into my life to be mirrors of my own arrogance, and my fear of it. To bring out what was gnawing at me, so I could see it and name it, which is only the tip of the arrogance ice berg, and..

Therefore…

The lesson in arrogance will continue…

Today’s Soul Tip:

Seeing and naming what is deep within is only the beginning. This battle/learning opportunity is not over. It is on-going until I get all the way through it. What I have learned though so far is it is important for me to call out the arrogance. To understand it is a fierce opponent. The fear of it, worse. I don’t have to fear my arrogance, therefore I may begin exposing it, playing with it, at the risk of looking more arrogant than ever before. But I am not ready to own my pure humility, and my rebel certainly isn’t going to fake it.

There is more to the story- and if my focus is to cultivate my own garden, and everything in it, then the story will continue to unfold, and I believe it might have something to do with courage. I hope you will stay tuned…

Namaste,

The Soul Reporter


>Face to Face With the Guru

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The other night, I grew a little bit taller. And isn’t this what our soul journey is about- growing and expanding deeper into the truth of who we are?  And isn’t it wonderful to know our soul leads us to the perfect experiences to make this happen?

I remember sharing an experience, which I don’t remember now, to my great-aunt and dear friend, Linda. I was talking about someone, and I am sure mentioning an issue I had with that person, and she said, “Now remember everyone is you.” Everyone we meet holds a mirror that only seems to show their image, but it actually holds our own. When we really OWN this, we begin to see aspects of ourselves through others~ our ideas, beliefs, desires, patterns and truths we hold within ourselves. If we are open, we will see these reflections. If we are brave we will learn and grow from them.

I’ve held a deep pattern. I hide. I withdraw. I become invisible. I try and stay safe, and not stretch too far. I also hold a deep and burning desire. To be seen. To become visible. Actively participating and engaged with life and its people. These patterns cause conflict because the way I perceive them, but…the ocean holds two patterns- to move in. To move out. The breath- in. Out. My pattern- in. Out, but mostly I’ve been in. And now I’m moving out. While I’ve been in, I’ve imagined this big life. Holding the vision of this life, I may receive opportunities to bring more life in so I can breathe more life out. But instead of greeting this with enthusiasm, I greet it with dread and hear my fear say- can’t we just stay home. And if I’m already in my car, it says, God, I can’t wait until we get home. I just want this to be over. Than I hear another voice. It says, If I am anxious about this “minor” happening in my life, then how am I going to handle the “major” ones? Then, I feel defeated. Isn’t it interesting how we ask for what we want, turn the corner and see it coming toward us, and then dip so it misses us, or we run the other way. But- if our desire is stronger than our fear and our trust in the life force within us is in tact, then we may stand up and embrace what’s coming our way~ and soon our pattern will be as rhythmic and natural as the ocean wave and the holy breath.

On Mother’s Day, I was invited to see a screening of a wonderful documentary, Wise Women Speak. The voice tried to talk me out of it, but my body kept moving toward it and before I knew it, I was on La Brea parking my car and meeting a great new friend to see the movie. We met another woman in the theater, and found we had interesting similarities- both Italian with the same ending in our last name. She is from a part of Illinois my Italian family is from, and she is a huge adoring fan of Marianne Williamson, and invited me to go with her to Marianne’s Monday night lecture. Since I had affirmed the other day, I possess the essential ingredients, and the rest is synchronicity, I took this as a synchronistic sign I should go see Marianne Williamson, especially because Marianne and I have a past.

My relationship began with her when I read, A Woman’s Worth. Because of that book, I bought an I am a Goddess bumper sticker that always embarrassed me. I was hiding from my goddess, yet I knew I had one in me. Then, I read Illuminata and loved that.  Still, when I see the cover I feel warm and cozy inside. CD’s of her were the next phase, but I found it difficult to listen to her voice, and would often press the fast forward button on my Ipod when she came up on shuffle. From here, I didn’t have much to do with Marianne.

Then, we moved to California and my husband and oldest daughter started reading a book together every night and would discuss it. We enjoyed this so much, we decided to read another. This time, A Return to Love, but we never finished it. Around this time, I wrote a blog post. It is titled, The Guru Has Got to Go~ Now.  Since moving here, I had found a freedom I could not grasp when in my home-state. And I liked it, and wanted more, but there was a problem. Someone was holding me back from even greater freedom, and I called her Sergeant Williamson. I’ve always carried a perfectionist inside of me, and when I lived my life as a home-maker she was obvious in her way of barking out her demands for a perfect house and life. When I left my home behind, I thought the perfectionist left as well, but she hadn’t. She now became someone who barked out spiritual orders to me- to be compassionate if I judged or had an opinion. To up my mediation to 30 minutes instead of just 15. Stuff like that- so it seemed fitting to see her as a cross between Marianne, a spiritual teacher who offers spiritual teachings and many know, and a drill sergeant who dictates orders. It made sense to me, and to most people who read it, except Marianne.

She sent me a message on Twitter and asked how she offended me because I painted an unattractive picture of her. I remember sitting on the couch, pre-menstrual, crabby, feeling like shit, and seeing my Iphone light with “Direct message from Marianne Williamson,” and I laughed. It was hysterical to me for some reason. I mean you don’t see that everyday, right? And how did she believe she offended me when the post was clearly not about her?  I thought maybe she had an assistant or someone who read it, but she didn’t read it, so I responded with the question- “Did you read the post?” I asked this question several more times, but I never got a response. And I could not give a response to her question because she didn’t offend me, other than her voice not resonating with me years ago, but that’s not what I wrote about. I wrote about MY inner perfectionist, which I fatefully called Sergeant Williamson.

Because of Twitter’s 140 character limit, she asked for my email so she could write a longer response. I was really looking forward to this. I thought- okay, great we can really have a good conversation now. I can explain my side further and she can explain hers, because at this point I didn’t understand her side, only that it had enough of an impact to contact me. And it is Marianne Williamson, and I am passionate about spiritual growth- and what a great opportunity to speak with her- I mean really who knew what the possibilities were. Not to mention I had been working on a blog post about spiritual teachers.

Months later, actually the exact same moment my post on spiritual teachers, a post I had been working on for months was deleted. Gone. Poof. Could not be retrieved, I received Marianne’s email. Um, call me stretching myself to look for signs, but this meant something for me. I knew it did.  Her email however, probably was only 140 characters and posed the same question- how did she offend me. Have you ever been in a conversation with someone and you find no matter what you say, they seem not to hear you? This is how I felt, and I couldn’t figure it out. I mean the intention of my post, which I shared numerous times seemed simple, and yet she continued to interpret me calling her a drill sergeant and speaking of her harshly. It leads me to ask, what is the pay off for holding a story, which seems to cause suffering or at least causes enough of something to warrant energy spent, even with the true intention being shared.

Honestly, I felt she wanted me to say, something like this, No Marianne, you did not offend me at all. I think you are wonderful. I adore you. You’ve taught me so much. But to say this might only appease her, and certainly not me, which brings me to the true point of this post. During the lecture, as I sat in the theater seats and watched her speak, I began opening to her. Her voice was easier to hear in person. I was impressed with her ability to “work a room.” She is creating a container for a community of people seeking and grieving in various ways, and it is a beautiful thing. By the end of the night, after listening to her lesson on relationships and how they are our opportunity to be in our nakedness (vulnerability) with another, any preconceived ideas I had of her after our on-line discussions dissipated in the light of this possibility.

And on some level, I must have known this as a possibility. The anxiety while driving to the event was extreme. The voices told me to go home and be safe.  When parking became an issue, I thought it would be the perfect excuse to turn around and leave. My daughter, who went with me along with my 10-year old, asked me what kind of anxiety it was. The kind, which forces an event to happen based on fear and insecurity or the kind, which resists an opportunity for real growth to occur.  It was definitely the kind that says feel the fear and go for it anyway. And what empowerment to finally be able to discern the difference. Going through the fear, I was stretched to the place where I now stood face to face with Marianne. My heart beat fast. I moved my attention outward, and watched a young woman speak to her. I saw in her, the old me that hides her divinity and bows down to those who must be more wise than I. I didn’t want to go there again. She is a human being, just like me. Isn’t it funny how we think otherwise, and do we ever wonder as “fans” how this feels for them?

When the exchange was over between her and I, I walked away wondering, what just happened. I came to her in one way, open and embracing and left feeling just as I did during our on-line conversations- dismissed. Once again I was unable to help relieve her of her story that I spoke of her harshly, and in my deepest self, I want to relieve others and myself of suffering. As our conversation went back and forth, never going to a place of resolution or understanding, I stayed true to myself, especially when she offered me feedback. She told me I need to be careful with my words, especially when speaking of women because we can get catty. “That does not resonate,” I said. I cannot use advice from a spiritual teacher or anyone when it does not resonate with the truth of who I am. From here the conversation was soon over after getting a “good luck with your blog, or whatever” with what looked like a dismissive hand gesture.

 Freedom is being okay within ourselves when we are not received in our truth by another.

I am going to admit something to you. It feels a bit like coming out of the closet, so I’m frightened. I am afraid you will say, yeah, right who does she think she is. She’s no Marianne Williamson. But I’ve imagined myself, probably since the days of reading self-help books and watching “experts” on the Oprah show, as a “spiritual teacher.” Well, first I wanted to be a psychologist. And then the expert on the talk shows, and than an author like Melody Beattie. But spirituality is my passion. I love learning about the most interesting subject I know- self. The deeper I go within, the deeper I want to go. The more I learn about the inner awakening process, the more I want to share.  I always hear, do what you love. Should I then be a spiritual teacher (I only call it this because people can relate, but this title makes me uncomfortable)? To say this, especially out loud makes me nauseous. It is an enormous responsibility.

People came to Marianne’s lecture with big stuff, which they shared in the audience and sought her counsel. I watched people wipe tears as Marianne said prayers. I am not saying as “spiritual teachers” we have to be responsible for everyone. Our work is our work, but I am saying there must be reconginition for what people are holding and to honor it sacred and do whatever we must for them without personal agenda. I couldn’t be sure for many years if I was ready for such a responsibility. What if I was seeking fame or recogntion or money in payment for spiritual teachings. If this were so, I could not live with that kind of karma. How can I deal with the adoration of others? How can I not believe their hype or my own? How can I stay grounded and true to my most basic intention- to help relieve suffering and create openings for self-realization? How can I be true to my teachings? No, I don’t think I can be perfect, although I know myself to try, but I can be honest. Transparent. Walk into an auditorium and have nothing to hide from anyone and have everything to give if I remain open and present. But I resist the call.

Remember how I began this post…I hide, and how everyone we meet is us. Marianne, for me, holds my desire to be a spiritual teacher. When I spoke with her in emails, it was important for me to level the playing field. To see her not as above me, but as my equal, and I came to her from this place. If I believe my desire is unreachable then how can I ever stand in its light. So, I kept at her in a sense. To let her, but mostly myself know I can engage with you. To meet her was even more powerful. To my desire, I said, I fear you. My heart pounds in your presence, but I am closer to you then I have ever been. And the dismissive response I perceived from Marianne, tells me I still reject my desire in some way. But…I walked toward her. I touched her shoulders. I looked in her eyes. I was open to her.

A message I received from her lecture on relationships is, the people who hold our lessons will continue to show up until we receive them. I remember someone saying, our soul wants our growth and expansion over anything else and it does not care what or who it uses to get us to grow. I understand there is still a part of me rejecting this aspect of myself, but I am closer to it than I have ever been. And if nothing else, my children are proud. My 10-year old who had no idea of the back story, who played on her ipod during the entire lecture, and watched from the sidelines during our exchange, said, to me, “Mom, I’m proud of you.” My 18 year old agreed and said I stood my ground. I see myself with two major roles in this life, neither separate from each other. The one role is as student. I am here to learn and grow and study the most interesting subject there is- self. The second role is mother. If nothing else ever came from this interesting series of events with a spiritual teacher, having my daughters witness their mother standing in her truth is more than enough. As mothers our strength invokes that spark in our children. I saw this spark ignited after the lecture, when we went out to eat. My Lilli, the 10-year old has been shy to order. When the waiter asked if she wanted another Sprite, she lifted her head, looked him in his eyes, and very clearly and loudly, said, “yes.”

*****************************************YES!*************************************

The next morning, I woke up with a big smile on my face. Something resurrected. And something died. When I feel the foreboding as I move forward on my path, it is only old energy that does not know I am new. With each step, I am less afraid of who I am and all I am capable of. I live with the dream and desire inside of me to bring big smiles to myself and everyone, and as I do, I watch the part of me who dismisses her desires, walk away. I wish her well (and won’t give her a name this time) knowing I understand her and it’s okay. I trust one day she shall see. And in her wake I am left with me. Still present. Open. Embracing. I’ve nothing to fear. I know who I am. I’ve nothing to hide and I no longer want to.

Today’s Soul Tip:

Begin to see everyone as you. What are they showing you? Are you rejecting a part of yourself it is time you embrace? Are they showing you where you may need to go within and reflect, perhaps let go. Marianne said in her lecture the most important person is the one in front of you. That person is you. Are you going to give yourself, yourself and all that you are capable of? Your wishes and desires? Are you going to hold your head up and look yourself in the eye and say, yes? If you do, I promise you will grow a little bit taller and smile a little bit wider. 



I thank Marianne Williamson. I thank Natalie, the woman I met who invited me to the lecture. I thank Lana for inviting me to the documentary screening where I met Natalie. I thank my cousin Christopher for introducing me to Lana. I thank Linda for reminding me everyone is me. I thank me for showing up and seeing me. I thank my daughters for seeing and supporting my strength. Are you seeing the beauty…how the soul and the universe, if they are even separate conspire to support us- to bring synchronicity so our SOUL EXPANDS.  

Namaste,

The Soul Reporter

>More Insights From the Guru

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Jean Houston says in this video, “You contain within you many different personalities.”  How right she is.  Those of you who follow my posts, know I sometimes process through, what Jean Houston is calling “personalities.”  I often call them parts, as many of us do without really knowing what we are saying. For instance, have you not said, “Well, I have this part that does like this, but I also have this part that doesn’t.”  Very recently, I called one of my parts, Sergeant Williamson.

Sergeant Williamson has taught me a valuable lesson about all of my “parts.” They like to keep me close.
What’s interesting is I would never ever thrive with a man who held me too close. Who hovered. Who treated me as a possession. And yet, those little villains I create do this of me all the time. It is of course by my design.

I used to say to my husband, “You give me too much rope. Lucky I am who I am, or I would hang myself with it.”  I thought the same of my father.  Both of these very important men in my life do not hover. Do not even ask a lot of questions. They give me space. They are there when I need them. They offer a compassionate ear for listening and hold a mirror to see myself.  There was a time, though their long rope made me feel abandoned.  As a young girl who turned into a young woman, I wanted to know there was a strong man holding the end of that rope so I wouldn’t fall.

In my abandoned state, I cast different personalities. Their direction from me is the same: Keep me close. Keep me safe. Keep me hidden away. But, to continue to give such direction will force my fall. Therefore,  I do declare: I no longer want to be kept close (oooh, a little scary to say). I no longer want to be kept safe I no longer want to be hidden away.  I want to be let go.

The bad news is you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is there’s no ground. ~Trungpa Rinpoche

Yes, there is no ground. I cannot fall.  Only space. And I thrive in lots of space.  I don’t need the rope. Never had the rope.  Only imagined the rope. Therefore the fear no one was on the other end, was an illusion. The expectation and belief I needed that- a lie.  I am cutting myself loose.  To be free.  To be whole. To be more of who I am meant to be.  
Today’s Soul Tip:

Inside you, is a festival of personalities. For some, this may sound like crazy talk, but I advise the exploration into the festivities. The goal: cooperation and congruency so you may come to experience your higher state of clarity and fluidity.   These parts already know how to work together. What’s needed is conscious investigation, participation, facilitation and direction from us. 

In a few weeks, I will be launching a site, inviting and detailing this conscious exploration in more depth.

  

The Guru Has Got To Go- NOW

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Okay, so I hardly ever write a daily post, but I absolutely need to write this one because the Guru in my life has got to go.  Who is my Guru?  Me, of course.  Another aspect of me that is. She does most of my talking and thinking. Basically the bitch runs the show(I know, I should be more compassionate, but that will come later). That was her by the way, who just said I should be more compassionate. She censors everything.

She is so ‘holier than art thou.’ She thinks she knows everything.  She’s a combination of ***Marianne Williamson and a drill sergeant. She reprimands me when I’m choosing to imagine I’m in Maui instead of where I am- what’s wrong with where you are now. Be in the moment. There’s nothing better than this moment right now.  She questions my motives when I want money or recognition- now you know that isn’t very spiritual of you. You should not want of those things. It isn’t holy or virtuous.  She wants me to accept reality and not want anything else beyond it, when I know I can do both. She demands I write only out of joy and love, when I just want to be honest.  She doubts me when I am.  Basically she’s an all around self-righteous bitch who doesn’t know me at all.

Now, I am not saying her “advice” isn’t worthy and shouldn’t be listened to.  Perhaps it is her delivery. Her attitude. Her motives. I mean, what are they? To kick my ass into high gear and make me some personified saint? To make me perfect?  Oh, that’s it. She is just the spiritual version of the Perfectionist I thought I dumped at the doorstep of my cul-de-sac life.  Well, isn’t she just clever. She knew how to get me listening and paying attention- spit out a bunch of spiritual catch phrases until I burn and seethe with guilt.  Well, Sergeant Williamson it’s working.  But, it’s time to go. But, first….it’s time for some Soul Investigation. If you want to read me process, stick around. If not, go be in the moment and contemplate your navel.  It is a better way of reaching sainthood. Oh, I’m sorry, that wasn’t me talking- that was her. Truly, I hope you stick around- I am even curious how I am going to process this one through.

So, why have I invited Sergeant Williamson into my life?  And why am I allowing her influence? Process….process…process… I know the answers are there. Come on, oh, Soul that Knows, come out, come out wherever you are….

I must not want to let her go, which only makes her more intriguing.  Umm, okay here is something- I’ve invited her here to protect me. To cause strife. To distract. She is also here to clear the soul. Clear the space for some true grace to come through.  She is special and significant for these reasons, but she is not my true voice.  She is useful, but not anymore. She is not my Soul that Knows.  She satisfies my need or my illusion to be right.  She makes me feel I should be ‘holier than art thou’ and than makes me feel bad because I  fail, which then makes me right- you see, I really am a failure.

People close to me, my husband especially, often say, “You are so hard on yourself. Give yourself a break.” I hear it, but I don’t get it. I mean, I am so thick in the pattern of being hard on myself I honestly don’t know how to cut myself loose from it.  Yesterday, however was a turning point. The knocking of those rocks enforced that I have climbed. I have pushed. I have brought myself here and it is GOOD. I am strong. I am worthy. I am enough.  I know, you’ve probably heard this from me before- (oh, there she goes again). But something is different. I can differentiate between her voice and my authentic voice.  And, more importantly….

As I move forward, I vow to listen to the Voice Inside- the Voice that told me to go up the escalator at Sears so I wouldn’t have to wait in the long line; the Voice that urged me to pick up two rocks and smash them together, even though it felt strange, in order to concrete a defining moment; the Voice that said to sit on the front stoop in the sun while the Sergeant tells me to write and be a spiritual teacher (however not as good of a teacher as Sergeant Williamson).  And as a side story, do you know what happened when I sat on the stoop that day? Two guys from MTV pulled up and said they were going to pay us an inconvenience fee for using some of our property while they filmed a new TV show. Now that was easy.

I used to have a tee-shirt that said, take the gentle path.  The true Voice Inside knows the gentle path, and she wants me to take it. She is always pointing me that way. But I’ve been listeing to the wrong voice(s). She snarred me. But I allowed her to because I created her.  The point of taking full responsibility to these villains we create in our lives is not so we can feel bad or flawed or crazy, but so we can understand why we created them and if we are ready to kiss them good-bye.  A farewell is needed if we want to continue to be a conscious participant in our evolution, allowing our old way to die and a truer one emerge.

I won’t be kicking Sergeant Williamson to the curb. I don’t have to.  Sergeant Williamson will soon know her place once I tune her out and tune in to the only true friend I have, the Voice Inside and that Voice is mine and I continue to emerge, deepen and awaken within her/me.

Today’s Soul Tip:


Change happens when we see the old way and the new way and we begin moving toward the new. Until then we are confused. We don’t know if we are coming or going.  We are literally stuck in two worlds.  But this is evolution. This is change. And it is happening. We can be a part of it, by observing and facilitating and surrendering, or we can hold on tight, feeling victim to our villains.  But, those villains are mighty loud and there is a truer voice worth responding to. Watch for her wink and respond to her when she asks, who loves you babe.  She does. She really, really does.  Trust her. 

***A Disclaimer- Since receiving controversy from this post, I hope readers understand this post is not about Marianne Williamson. It is about me. The part of me who reprimands me in a drill sergeant way about spiritual teachings- hence we have Sergeant Williamson. Does this make sense to you?


Namaste,
The Soul Reporter