deep quiet, holding space
I'm a healer. While usually I put that phrase into a context of "I don't actually DO anything. I put my hands on or near you (or just am present) and the energy moves through the universe, through me, and with your openness and willingness the intention for healing and holding space for your body/energy to figure out what's going on and what it needs, happens, and I hold space until it finishes." But, to put it simply, and to be down to earth, nuts and bolts about it, being willing to sit in that space (and others being drawn to me because of that), I am a healer.
I hold space very well, and the one thing that I REALLY love, like, deeply, tenderly, dearly love is bringing people down from their heads into their hearts/bodies. I have a particular friend in mind when I talk of this, because ze goes very easily into zir head, and I can feel that ze's in zir head, and so I just speak up and say, "OK, you're in your head. Bring it down, breathe, come back into your body and trust yourself. LISTEN to yourself." I love doing this work. Because I do it for myself so often, in fact, whenever the energy isn't flowing, I have to remind myself to trust myself. When I pause in doing something because it feels weird or odd, I say again, "Trust yourself," and I get the impetus to do what doesn't make sense logically.
But I love holding space. I love holding that deep heart compassion, the space of "I'm not emotionally invested either way, whatever you do, but I will support you in whatever aspect you can see of this situation right now. I hold the deepest respect and compassion for your own process. I trust you in your own process, and I trust that you will do what you need to do for yourself." All I'm concerned about is the highest good of all involved. If necessary, I will bring my own perspective, experience into the picture, to help clarify or possibly illuminate another's situation, but mostly I just listen and hold space. That unconditional love of "I'm not going anywhere, and nothing is too much. I'll listen, and I know you're lovable and dear underneath all that you put up. Just lay it down and know you're acceptable as you are."
I love doing that. Because far too people feel not heard, underappreciated, overworked, and that's.. so not helpful. It's demeaning. It's discouraging. It's soul crushing. We do our best work, and we're still not recognized for it. Or others aren't picking up the slack, and it feels hopeless. That's when we retreat and go, "Ok, wow, how do I need to care for myself?" Sometimes, for me, it's sitting in deep quiet. Like, not talking at all (and not answering the phone or going online) and just letting that deep quiet settle around me like a comfy cozy blanket, like a shamanic bear cave, and just being in that delicious quiet space for as long as I need to. I might just sit, or do something meditative like clean. I might wash my sheets, do the dishes, vacuum, but always I come back to that sweet harmony of quiet. The dear melody of joy that's popping out from under the floorboards, the quiet fairies who giggle from outside.
Being quiet allows me to get in touch with the deepest depths of my soul, the quiet lake that quietly reflects all that's going on, that simply asks, "So that's what's going on, huh?" in the most gentle, wise, childlike way. No judgment, just being.
It's like being a tree within myself, like spreading roots and just knowing that I'm connected to God, the Divine, the Universe, that I hold the Universe within myself and that I'm all I need to be. Nothing I could do would ever be more perfect than who I am in that moment.
Deep quiet holds such profound reverence for me. It's a very sacred time, a time of renewal, a time of folding gifts between paws and just sitting. There's a time for bonfire chanting and dancing, and there's a time to simply be, as still as the air, no ripples, just simply calm.
Everywhere I go, I hold that peace within me. I don't always feel completely calm, but I quickly take steps to restore it when I realize I'm a little out of balance. I retreat home to myself, drink water, and clear my head just by lying down or listening to music, and just getting really still. Intensity thrives on continual action. When you just step back and sit back, giving it time to calm down, it has no more energy to draw on. So it calms down.
i take a palmful of sunlight with me, and the dark of the moon, the time of ripe possibilities, the fertile crescent of all that's possible, and just be with it. I see possibilities, I see life and light, while I understand the value of darkness and being in uncertainty. It's all a beautiful puzzle, a beautiful, wonderful mess. We clear it piece by piece, but mostly we sit with it until it happens to hover over the right places by itself.
I am old magic, but I'm also a quiet stream of possibilities. I let things lie as they will. I hold no pretentions, and I will not let in others' pretentions. I can sense authenticity and that's what I wait for. I'm like a black panther sometimes -- I sniff at the bayou, waiting for the one brave enough for me to say, "Hey, do you really need to be carrying all that?" They let it all out, and I don't run away. I sit right there and listen. That piece of silver, the piece of joy, sunlight, light, and nourishing darkness exists between us and I let it be. It's right, healthy, and appropriate.
This is one of my greatest services to mankind. Connecting people to the divine, simply by letting them be themselves, utterly divine.
Peace.
I hold space very well, and the one thing that I REALLY love, like, deeply, tenderly, dearly love is bringing people down from their heads into their hearts/bodies. I have a particular friend in mind when I talk of this, because ze goes very easily into zir head, and I can feel that ze's in zir head, and so I just speak up and say, "OK, you're in your head. Bring it down, breathe, come back into your body and trust yourself. LISTEN to yourself." I love doing this work. Because I do it for myself so often, in fact, whenever the energy isn't flowing, I have to remind myself to trust myself. When I pause in doing something because it feels weird or odd, I say again, "Trust yourself," and I get the impetus to do what doesn't make sense logically.
But I love holding space. I love holding that deep heart compassion, the space of "I'm not emotionally invested either way, whatever you do, but I will support you in whatever aspect you can see of this situation right now. I hold the deepest respect and compassion for your own process. I trust you in your own process, and I trust that you will do what you need to do for yourself." All I'm concerned about is the highest good of all involved. If necessary, I will bring my own perspective, experience into the picture, to help clarify or possibly illuminate another's situation, but mostly I just listen and hold space. That unconditional love of "I'm not going anywhere, and nothing is too much. I'll listen, and I know you're lovable and dear underneath all that you put up. Just lay it down and know you're acceptable as you are."
I love doing that. Because far too people feel not heard, underappreciated, overworked, and that's.. so not helpful. It's demeaning. It's discouraging. It's soul crushing. We do our best work, and we're still not recognized for it. Or others aren't picking up the slack, and it feels hopeless. That's when we retreat and go, "Ok, wow, how do I need to care for myself?" Sometimes, for me, it's sitting in deep quiet. Like, not talking at all (and not answering the phone or going online) and just letting that deep quiet settle around me like a comfy cozy blanket, like a shamanic bear cave, and just being in that delicious quiet space for as long as I need to. I might just sit, or do something meditative like clean. I might wash my sheets, do the dishes, vacuum, but always I come back to that sweet harmony of quiet. The dear melody of joy that's popping out from under the floorboards, the quiet fairies who giggle from outside.
Being quiet allows me to get in touch with the deepest depths of my soul, the quiet lake that quietly reflects all that's going on, that simply asks, "So that's what's going on, huh?" in the most gentle, wise, childlike way. No judgment, just being.
It's like being a tree within myself, like spreading roots and just knowing that I'm connected to God, the Divine, the Universe, that I hold the Universe within myself and that I'm all I need to be. Nothing I could do would ever be more perfect than who I am in that moment.
Deep quiet holds such profound reverence for me. It's a very sacred time, a time of renewal, a time of folding gifts between paws and just sitting. There's a time for bonfire chanting and dancing, and there's a time to simply be, as still as the air, no ripples, just simply calm.
Everywhere I go, I hold that peace within me. I don't always feel completely calm, but I quickly take steps to restore it when I realize I'm a little out of balance. I retreat home to myself, drink water, and clear my head just by lying down or listening to music, and just getting really still. Intensity thrives on continual action. When you just step back and sit back, giving it time to calm down, it has no more energy to draw on. So it calms down.
i take a palmful of sunlight with me, and the dark of the moon, the time of ripe possibilities, the fertile crescent of all that's possible, and just be with it. I see possibilities, I see life and light, while I understand the value of darkness and being in uncertainty. It's all a beautiful puzzle, a beautiful, wonderful mess. We clear it piece by piece, but mostly we sit with it until it happens to hover over the right places by itself.
I am old magic, but I'm also a quiet stream of possibilities. I let things lie as they will. I hold no pretentions, and I will not let in others' pretentions. I can sense authenticity and that's what I wait for. I'm like a black panther sometimes -- I sniff at the bayou, waiting for the one brave enough for me to say, "Hey, do you really need to be carrying all that?" They let it all out, and I don't run away. I sit right there and listen. That piece of silver, the piece of joy, sunlight, light, and nourishing darkness exists between us and I let it be. It's right, healthy, and appropriate.
This is one of my greatest services to mankind. Connecting people to the divine, simply by letting them be themselves, utterly divine.
Peace.