My entire life it seems that I have struggled with feelings of not belonging. What does home mean? Is it a comfortably worn sweater? A blanket on a cold day? A cup of hot tea? A warm embrace? A loving kiss? Maybe it’s all of these things. Maybe it’s none. What I do know is that as beautiful as these moments are, they are fleeting. What am I left with once they are gone? Myself. Is that enough?
My entire life has consisted of searching for myself. I looked for myself in others, adapting and conforming to fit in. I sought solace in the arms of others, allowing abuse in many forms just to be able to belong in some way, in any way. I’ve allowed myself to shrink so that others could shine. My ability to give has been so grand that it has left me ripped into shreds. Broken, wounded, seeping pain and disgust.
And yet on weak knees, time after time I continued to stand. Attempting to pick up the pieces lost along the way, I continued on my journey. Searching, seeking something, anything that made sense. Anything that would bring me back home, to my true self. Guided by my unwavering belief in there being something bigger than me that existed. That this thing we call life and all of the heartache that comes along with it is for a reason. I just needed to find out what it was.
Yet how do you find something that you never knew you had to begin with? How does one return to self when all you know is what has been told to you? When all you have to go on is the reality that you’ve created based on other people’s ideas of what is true, what is fair, what is right and wrong. And yet still I resisted. Because deep in the core of my soul I knew there was another way. My soul burning to be released, to be free from the anguish of the never-ending row of boxes that you are shoved into from birth. Oh how I resisted.
You said this? Ok, I’m going to say that. You like this? I’m going to like the opposite just to spite you. You want me to go there? I’ll stay here. And yet for each time I did resist, there were hundreds of times that I did not. The countless times I did not speak up when I wanted to. When I moved to create space for others. When I saw, said, experienced moments of injustice not only for myself but others and I simply allowed.
Do you know what that does to a person? How that eats them up inside? How each time that happens is like swallowing thick bile that sits at the core of your stomach that continues to pile up over the years to the point where you physically can’t get sick no matter how much you try. I am, if nothing else, a master at repressing for look at how well I’ve kept it shoved down. That even when given the many opportunities to release it, even when I’ve begged to release it, it remains there. Stuck within the deep recesses of my being. The bile that wants to be released in any way possible. But don’t worry, it has found a more creative way to be released.
As anger. As fear. As hurtful words that I’ve spat towards others. At pressures I’ve placed on my oldest to conform, to do well, to “succeed.” It’s been released as feelings of unworthiness. Of comparison. Of scarcity. See this way of releasing is okay though, is it not? We say some mean things and apologize. All is forgotten, right? We have a moment of fear and then it passes. That means it’s gone, no? Is this not how we as a society deal with our “negative” emotions? Is this not normal? Is this not acceptable?
Ha. No, not really. Not ever. Because see I feel this thick, sticky bile as it moves through my veins. For it has been a part of me for so long that we have become good friends, and not in the "I love you" sort of way. And when the moment is right, it attacks so swiftly that it actually is me. Is it not? I am the one who said/did/experienced the thing so it has to be me, right? But how sneaky it is. For this darkness has gotten so good that I would never pause to think that it was anything but whatever was presenting itself on the outside at that moment. And just as quickly as it attacks, it retreats. Returning to the depths of my soul. Awaiting it’s next attack.
Meanwhile I leave in my path the wounded souls of the numerous beings I have hurt along the way. Of random strangers who caught me on a bad day. Of those I have claimed to love. Who knew that to love me also meant being willing to be hurt by me. To open yourself up time and time again to my pain, my suffering. How many times have I passed along my pain to you and masked it as your own? Oh how I wish I could remove each and every scar I have made my mark on. I am sorry.
Please know that this is not yours to carry. It never was. It is my darkness to own, to carry and to overcome. And I’m onto it now. I know better. And while there’s still a lot of mess to clean up, I have created a bit of space. Space that allows me to breathe a bit better. Space that allows me to see a bit more clearly. And while I feel in some ways there will always be a bit of it I carry, my hope is that one day it will no longer be this thing that overcomes me but rather one that I welcome like an old friend, before seeing it through the exit.
I just left the final day of a mosaic workshop I've been participating in the past two days. Before leaving, our beautiful leader asked me to share what my piece meant to me. I shared what the various symbols were that influenced this piece which all play an important role in my life at this current moment. This includes sacred geometry, alchemy, symbols, numerology, elements and the spiral. And yet as I was sitting in the car I realized that I did not have a response at all about the main symbol that is holding down the entire piece, the cross.
I had a moment when I was going to start to speak about it but I hesitated. Thoughts around people's stigmas around organized religion flashed in my mind but also really my own uncertainty around why this symbol appeared in this piece in the first place is what held me back. The truth being that I wasn't exactly sure why I included it. When I first laid out plans for the design there was no cross. And yet as I played around with the concept that is what came through so I went with it, trusting my intuition in that moment.
When I got to my car, I reflected on this symbol only momentarily and its inclusion in this piece and within a matter of seconds all of these thoughts came to me. It was also at that moment that I kicked myself for not simply speaking. For not saying whatever words wanted to come out of my mouth as I knew that what would have come through would have been my own beautiful truth and realization held in safe and sacred space of the beautiful souls I was with. But I didn't. And I am here, writing now because I need to say what this means to me. Why it was created.
I grew up Catholic. Not the kind of Catholic where religion was shoved down your throat and you were condemned to hell if you did not follow XYZ, but the kind of Catholic that lived in the beauty of community. In which we gathered regularly to talk, laugh, sing and support one another. I loved our church, I loved our community and most importantly I loved how it made me feel.
As I got older church no longer became something that I wanted to do but something that felt forced. Going to obligatory Sunday mass. And as any typical teenager would do, I rebelled. And yet no matter what, prayer and having faith in something bigger than myself is something that I turned to in times of need. Good or bad, prayer was there and it was something I did on the regular even if Sunday mass was not included.
As I moved further and further away from religion there was still always something comforting I found through prayer and through the occasional Sunday mass. A moment to pause, to connect and reflect.
Fast forward to 2012 when I was going through major transitions in my life, seemingly one after the other. And despite church at that point having basically zero influence in my life, prayer was the one constant that got me through. And the funny thing is that no matter what, through prayer everything ended up turning out in my favor. At that time I realized something. Why did I only turn to prayer when I needed something? Why was I only turning to prayer when things felt chaotic or catastrophic? I decided then and there to incorporate prayer into my life regularly. Remembering how no matter what happened in my life, it was through prayer or my faith and belief in something bigger than myself that I was able to pull through.
Over time, prayer led me on my personal journey of self-discovery around my own spirituality and what prayer and religion means to me. Prayer led to meditation. Singing led to chanting. It was also no coincidence that during this time as I was trying to discover myself, I found myself working at a Catholic organization. This time though I knew better. I knew it was no coincidence (there are none) that I ended up being brought back to religion/Catholicism during the time of me trying to find my own spirituality. And the regular monthly masses and the fact that we could openly incorporate faith and prayer into my daily life was just what I needed to keep me grounded as I explored other belief systems.
Which leads me to where I am today. When I was in Ecuador last year on a spiritual retreat, the spirit of Jesus Christ came to me. Not in a funny, I was imagining it sort of way. But in a legit, undeniably, this is Christ Consciousness energy and this is meant for me at this moment. And before you ask, the answer is no. I was not suddenly deeply religious at this time, I was not reading books about Jesus nor did I carry a bible with me. But his spirit came through and what I felt was pure, unconditional love. And it was through that experience I had a greater understanding of what his spirit means for me and how I feel called to live my life which is through love.
Not the conditional kind of love. Not the love that tells you you're condemned to hell if you do or don't do XYZ. And certainly not the kind that tells me that I must believe in one way and only one way of doing things to be on the righteous path. Whatever that means. It's the kind of love that says I love you all, just as you are. No matter your beliefs, no matter your story. And there is nothing, absolutely nothing you can say or do that will stop me from ever loving or accepting you. All of these texts that feel binding or conditional, do away with them. Take what resonates with you and leave the rest. For we are all one, we are all the same. And no matter your belief, it is the ultimate belief in love, not fear, that will carry us through.
My spirituality is influenced by many things. By nature, by deities, by energy, but most importantly by what feels true in my heart. While in Ecuador, I also experienced the beautiful energies of our Virgin Mary and Krishna among others. I realize it didn't matter who chose to show up because the message was all the same - choose love and we got you. For me, being free is being able to read, hear or experience something and make a choice to integrate the message or ignore it based on what feels right in my soul.
Which brings me back to the art piece and the incorporation of the fitting symbol of the cross met by the spiral, transition. I am thankful to Jesus and what he has taught me. I am also thankful that through prayer and the veil of religion I was able to break down the walls needed to find myself where I am today - evolving and transitioning.
I've been a bit MIA. Turning inward as I prepare for what is to come.
I, Maricella Nayeri, being of sound body and mind have made the decision to leave my full-time job at the end of this month. My position is not being eliminated. There are no changes in family circumstances and I'm not being forced out. I'm simply leaving. The reason? Something along the lines of "doing my own thing" or "following my bliss." Whatever that means. But what I do know is that I've hit a wall. One in which it feels virtually impossible to no longer venture out on my own and start creating a life that I choose to lead.
With that said it's difficult to build something that you don't even have the blueprints for. And yet, the pressure to do something remains. Whether that is to keep up posts on this site, come up with cute Instagram posts that align with what I'm trying to create, network with like-minded people, read a book, or just simply "put myself out there." And if nothing else then at a minimum the sense of urgency that I'm reminded of each day that my source of financial reliance will soon be coming to an end with seemingly no plans to replace it in near sight. Did I mention this was a choice I made all on my own? Ugh!
And yet all I've wanted to do the past month is hide. To curl up in a ball, throw the cover over my head and rest. To retreat from the outside world and take nothing in, just the sound of my breath. I haven't logged onto this site for over a month. All I've posted on Insta lately have been a few random updates on my kiddos. The most I've read are a few pages here and there and aside from seeing a few familiar faces interactions with others have been minimal. Oh and hows that notebook page on plans to make money after June? Blank.
So here I've been. Pulled with the invisible pressure to start creating and with the deeper inner-guidance telling me to rest. So I've been choosing to rest. To not log on as much. To not put things out there that feel forced. To not commit to things out of a feeling of obligation. Instead I've been in a place of trying to let go and trust. It hasn't been easy. Several words come to mind on a daily to describe my inactivity. Lazy, selfish, irresponsible, depressed, hot mess...you choose. And yet what if. What if instead of beating myself up for not doing what I'm "supposed" to be doing, I express gratitude to myself for doing exactly what I need to be doing. Nothing.
I made a conscientious choice to rest which essentially is what leaving my job is all about. To have the space necessary to create what resonates with my heart. And yet to be able to tune into that I must be willing to rest and retreat so it would be silly of me to resist the one thing I'm moving towards - space. And the funny thing is that even though I have been resting, I have also been creating. Less of it being from me and more of it coming from others who send ideas and inspiration my way.
I trust that all of the things that follow will fall into place as they need to. For now I will rest and when inspiration hits or when support comes as it is needed to pull me back into this life as it exists, I will accept it with open arms.
Thank you for the softness you have shown me. For the de-conditioning that was needed to move forward in peace. For helping me to remove the veil so I could move towards a place of lightness and being. For helping me to stand still in this space that allows me true freedom. Freedom from barriers and expectations, from grief and heartache. To allow me to experience life around me without the hardness and boundaries that have kept my experiences rough, that have kept me sheltered, that have prevented me from moving forward in peace.
Thank you for allowing me the space I needed to step fully into myself and for bringing me through the hardness to discover the softness. Through your gentle guidance I accept that in my divine state both exist within me and are meant to live in harmony. I am rest and wakefulness. I am indulgent and scarce. I am the sun and the moon. I am a fighter and a lover. I rest and I create. I listen to the sounds of my heart in tune with the beat of the universe. I listen and I move with the flow of the universe.
I can have strong feelings and aspirations and be soft in my desires and approach. I can be lit up and fiery and still be grounded and earthly. I allow myself to feel what I need to feel at any moment. Permission to move into that space and breathe into what I need. To be who I am in any given moment. I tune in.
I listen and follow my instincts because they will always guide me on the right path. And because I know how to discern my fears from my truth, I am aware of the times when fear speaks louder than my instincts. In my wisdom I know how to quell the fear that rises and in my strength I know when to concede to my fears when they feel like too much. I allow myself to feel in that moment. I do not reprimand or demonize myself. I do not consider myself a failure. I move into it and through it prepared for the next time that challenges arises.
There is no use forcing myself to experience something I do not feel ready to handle in that moment. If it will case me more angst and exhaustion then it does not seem like a worthy opponent. And I know that in allowing that opportunity to pass by, that lesson to be missed, another one of worthy value will arise at a later time in its place when the time is right. And when that happens maybe I will be ready to receive all of the beautiful lessons that will come in its aftermath. And maybe I won’t. But I am grateful to have the opportunity to choose.
Somewhere along the way I lost myself. I had a dream recently where I was sitting in a male figure’s lap. It felt supportive and loving. He was teaching me about energy healing and I was chasing light orbs with him pointing them out. I knew I was in middle school because I saw my peers in hospital beds nearby – for some reason being able to clearly point out that it was after a school trip we had where when we returned everyone got sick. That didn’t actually happen as far as I can recall, but in the dream I remember explaining it very matter of fact. The other distinctive feature that I remember in this dream that let me know I was in middle school was that I was skinny with wavy hair and because I was thin you could see that I had a very distinctive nose.
At some point either towards the end of my dream or shortly after waking up I remember having the thought cross my head around who was this man whose lap I was sitting in? Was he trying to take advantage of me? Did he get off on having young girls sit in his lap? These are the thoughts that ran through my head which struck me as odd given how when I saw it happening in my dream all I felt was love and support.
I loved middle school. I recall feeling free, curious, on top of the world. I had a multitude of friends, had supportive teachers, was encouraged to explore artistic mediums such as stained glass, painting, music and videography. The opportunities seemed endless. Fast forward to high school which I absolutely abhorred. We had recently moved from the north side of Milwaukee to the south side. After a brief stint at a public high school (which I enjoyed) because of some questionable life-decisions (as we all make when we insist we are in love) I was forced to attend an all-girls high school. The thing is I came to this school immediately as an outsiders. It didn’t matter that I joined sophomore year because these girls seemed to have been joined at the hip in the endless cliques since childbirth. Many of them attended the same elementary and middle schools, knew one another’s families, lived near one another and just had a basic liking for anyone who looked, talked, acted and sounded like them. All the things I was not.
I grew up in a Mexican household and despite going to a bilingual school and having Spanish spoken between my grandparents I took a liking to English and only English. Up until high school I ran with the black and Puerto Rican crowds who I never felt like an outsider with. My school and living experiences were very diverse in comparison to moving to the south side as a teen with a predominantly Latino-American culture which was also deeply embedded in my high school. So one can imagine the adjusting I had from school, to neighborhood to in general figuring out who the hell I was as a teenager in this world.
And what I realized was that something huge shifted within me between the leap from middle to high school. Yes there were a lot of external changes but it was an internal change that had the biggest impact. And then I reflected on a moment that I have thought about quite a bit in my life and which my recent dream also called to bring my attention to. It was 8th grade graduation. I had on a cute new outfit, along black and white floral skirt (those were cool in the 90s) and a black, ribbed shirt. The shirt was a little short and if I stretched you could see my belly button a bit (scandalous!) but it was also one of the first times that I wore something that revealing and yet I felt cool and confident in it.
As I was standing in line with my classmates in my cool new outfit I noticed a couple boys laughing and snickering. One boy who was particularly mean-spirited usually had “jokes” he made about others but he and I were pretty cool so I didn’t think he was talking about me. But then I heard it, “nariz, Nayeri.” I wasn’t sure I heard him right but then he said it again, “nariz, Nayeri” followed by fits of laughter. And suddenly, in that instant I felt the veil of protection that had been surrounding me my entire life disappear. I felt naked and exposed. From my ugly nose to the fact that my flat butt was showing prominently in my skirt which couldn’t be hidden by my short shirt. And from that moment on my life would never be the same.
While I thought about that moment quite a bit throughout the years I never realized the impact it had on my life. From that point on my inner being and outer being separated and I have been trying to reconnect the two ever since. I’ve never felt whole in my body. I’ve always likened it to a giant or an alien trapped in a body that didn’t feel its own. My awkward limbs, flabby skin. I was the scientist and my body was the experiment – always curious but ever detached. Even as I looked in the mirror I barely recognized the person looking back at me. So I’d surround myself with mirrors just to make sure that I was real because if I didn’t see it I didn’t believe it. And as I grew older the connection between my inner and outer self grew even more distant. As I became more intrigued with my outer self, I shoved my inner self down into hiding. That curious, trusting and insightful girl became a distant memory. In it’s place became someone angry, lost and detached from reality and herself. Someone who no longer trusted the right people and instead invited in all the wrong people. I was confused, I was lost.
The only way I knew how to identify was how I looked and how others felt about how I looked. I was forever on display, a doll at the mercy of its handlers. And it was through others that I sought validation. Because what was inside me had diminished so greatly that I felt nothing but pain, sadness, fear and darkness. An emptiness like no other that I allowed to be filled with the thoughts, opinions and viewpoints of others. Nothing was mine. I was nowhere to be found. And my body, my amazing body took the beating. I left it scarred, beaten and battered. I have been unkind to it, unforgiving and spoken words of hate to it.
So many times I wanted to disappear into nothingness – always feeling that there was an entire half of me that was missing. And in my desperation, I blamed my father for leaving me when I was a child, convinced that he was the reason I felt lost. I blamed my mother for working so much that I was all alone. I blamed my sister for leaving us after high school and never returning. And yet the one thing I had been searching for, that I insisted was the cause of everyone else around me, I realize had been with me all along. I had simply forgotten her.
In my remembrance of that moment in middle school I discovered that beautiful girl curled up in a cage, distraught, fearful, pale and yet still trusting she took my hand. I led her out of her cage into the sunlight where she belongs. I joined hands with her and welcomed her home. The pain and bruising still exist but overtime they will heal. Over time I will trust again, I will become curious again and I will play.
Overtime I will no longer see the scars on my body as something to hide but instead as something to embrace. My nose as a beautiful gift from god that has allowed me to smell my grandfather's shaving cream, my grandmothers arroz y frijoles, my mother's perfume, fresh cut grass, and the sour milk on my children's neck. My butt for giving me the support I needed after a long day at work, a place to rest and bask in all the beauty of Mother Earth, something to smack when I needed a kick.
My body, my scars, my outer self is a beautiful representation of all that I am. My stories, my battles, my glories. All the places I’ve been and all the places I will go. It represents my strength and power to overcome the biggest loss of my life. The loss of oneself.
I fear my own power, my own voice. I fear the repercussion. I fear people not understanding. I fear I don’t understand and because I don't understand my own power I don't trust it - I don't trust myself. And so I hide it because I don't want to make others uncomfortable but really I don't want to make myself uncomfortable. Because when it comes out, when it makes itself known it is so all encompassing that it scares me. It scares me so much because I feel like I’m going to explode. I don’t even recognize the person before me. I fear the unknown, my power.
I trust that I am here for a reason. I am special because I say so. I don't judge this by anyone else's standards but my own. I know that I have gifts to share and a light to shine but even if I didn’t know these things I am all these things simply because I exist. Our work doesn’t make us powerful, our gifts don’t make us special. It is the simple fact that we are who we are – we are beings of light – that is what makes us special that is what makes us powerful.
Power is not something outside of ourselves. It is not what we share with others but rather it is in what we give to ourselves. The nourishment we take in when we need it however and whenever that may be. It is in giving ourselves permission to cry when we feel sad. Permission to dance in the street regardless of who is around when we are happy. Permission to slam a damn toilet seat and not care if it breaks when we are angry. Permission to share our darkest secret with our partner without fear of judgement. In these moments it is our feelings that matter, that is the power we have. We give ourselves permission to be who we are always.
To feel what we feel, to take action, to forgive and to be whoever and whatever is calling us at any given moment. That is power. Power is the permission we give ourselves. Power is surrender. Power is letting to to the divine. Power is to be. To speak up when we have something to say. To take a step back so others can share their thoughts. To take a seat when it is offered. To give up a seat when someone else needs it. To give in exchange for something and to receive in exchange for your energy. Power is giving and receiving freely, wholly and unconditionally.
I have not owned my power. If anything I have given it up more than anything. And yet while I know that no one can take anything away from me without my permission, I realize that my power can never be taken. It just can't. Because my power isn't anyone else's to know or understand. It is as uniquely mine as yours is to you. So it can’t be given away – it’s impossible. That’s like saying I can give myself away to you – I can’t do that for I am me and mine always. You are who you are always and when we lose ourselves we lose our power not to any one person but we lose our power to ourselves - our connection to who we are.
When we start to “give away” our power – what we're really doing is giving up on ourselves, on who we are, what we feel and what we desire. We allow ourselves to be led instead of being the leader of our own lives. We are allowing, but in the opposite way. And just as easily as we allow others to take the lead – we can instead allow ourselves permission to take the lead of our own lives. To take ownership over our feelings, our desires, our body. To take it back and lead with self love because the only true power we have is that of love. And wouldn’t we rather be influenced and led with our own love, the deep knowing inside ourselves, rather than by someone else’s love that is not ours to own? When we lead from power we lead from love because we are love and our love is meant to be shared.
When I took the Reiki level 3 course I was introduced to the Antahkarana symbol. Immediately I felt a deep, personal connection to it and felt strongly that it is meant to assist me on my own healing journey as well as others. That was my immediate reaction. My secondary reaction was reflecting on how such a beautiful and healing symbol has been distorted into something full of hatred, anger and fear.
When I learned about the history of the Antahkarana it made complete sense to me and after having my first two reactions - my third reaction was we need to get this out there. We need to inform more people about the history, the origins of such a sacred symbol. We need to work together as healers to help to remove the fear associated with it so that it can be used the way it was meant to be used. This symbol which has caused so much separation has the power to bring us together in understanding, love and compassion. Together, we take it back and we heal.
Problem is while it sounds good - I needed to face my own fears first. Not only do I feel a strong past-life connection that I know still needs healing, I am being called to use it in my practice and yet I worry about what others will think if they see it. I feel I need to hide it - out of fear that others won't understand. And really what I'm saying is that it is out of my own fear of not understanding. Of allowing my viewpoints to be shaped and influenced so heavily by society - by history - that I do not listen to or follow my own guidance. And that has been a repeated theme in my life. I do as I'm told, I follow the rules, I listen to others and I allow what's around me, rather than what's inside, to shape my beliefs.
So how in the world would I be able to work with a symbol that I myself still have unresolved fears around? And how do I step into this fear and through it so that I can become the teacher and healer that I am being called to?
There are messages and symbols, signs all around us. When we listen to what we feel we see what we know. What is before us becomes readily apparent - obvious even. And no longer does it become a matter of question but instead a matter of responsibility. A responsibility to who we are as individuals, to our life's purpose and also to the world in which we have agreed to contribute to. It is the knowing that is easy - it is the doing that matters.
So here I am - I see, I know, I feel and now I take action. I take action in my fears by reflecting, through my fears by talking about it and past my fears by sharing it with others because I am the connection. The bridge. We all are. And it is through the stepping into our own power that we are able to create a safe and healing space for all.
According to The Halls of Reiki and Reiki Rays
The Antahkarana is an ancient healing and meditation symbol that has been used in Tibet and China for thousands of years. Through clairvoyant perception, Michelle Griffith, a talented clairvoyant healer has been able to tune into the symbol and read its psychic history. According to Michelle, the symbol was first given to the people of earth during Lemurian times over 100,000 year ago. The Antahkarana was created by a counsel of Ascended Masters who are watching over the evolution of the Galaxy. They saw that the people of the earth were in trouble and needed help in re-establishing their connection with the Higher Self. They created the symbol and using a decree, imbued it with its own consciousness. Now, anyone who uses it will have the connection between the physical brain and the Higher Self.
It is the connection between our brain and our higher self. It forms a cord to these four planes.
Your peace is within and without. It exists in the sounds, in the noise – that which you resist so much. That which so often annoys you – that is your peace. Your peace and joy comes from without and it is in these experience that one feels whole, feels complete. It is in these experiences that one truly finds peace – finds enjoyment and the beauty and solitude of life that is to be shared with others.
This is the time of balance. That which you seek in solitude, in restful states and in quiet times do not allow for peace. For it is in this very belief that this is where you will find it is exactly what becomes your downfall and precisely why you haven't found it. You are expecting -you are setting up a scenario perfectly in alignment with what you believe based on what others have told you and therefore based on what you expect. And yet it doesn’t happen. And despite this, you continue to show up and continue to try and the more you try the more you fail and the more you fail the more you doubt yourself.
What if I told you that peace is already found – peace is now – peace is not in the solitude it is not in the quiet – peace is in the noise it is in the spaces the cracks and the crevices all around you. It is in the noise, it is in the brightness, it is in the sounds all around you – that is peace. You don’t understand because you have been taught to believe it is not so – you have been taught to believe that it is in silence one finds peace and yet in silence as much as noise is where true peace exists.
What is noise – what is sound what is distraction? It is a moment of awareness that life is too much that life feels overwhelming that life is beautiful. That life is full of moments, full of possibilities, of creation - that life exists. It is in the noise that life is real that life comes to life. What we see is not real – but what we hear is.
What about people who are unable to hear? Sometimes people need balance – extreme balance because the sounds would become too much for them so they learn to adapt to life with a delicate balance – of needing both their understanding of noise as they know it and life as they see it – that is their balance. Your balance is the sound itself – it is not what you see – it is what you hear what you feel. When your sound is off balance then so are you – your sound is your equilibrium.
Imagine for a moment that you could no longer hear. What would you feel? I’d feel like half of me was cut off – I’d feel sadness at not being able to hear my children laugh or speak – I’d feel lost – sound is my balance. The thoughts in my head would get to be too much – because it is the only sound I hear – my thoughts – I can’t turn my thoughts off – they would literally eat me alive. I wouldn’t know what was real and what wasn’t – I’d experience things but that wouldn’t seem real – it would seem fake, like a movie – I wouldn’t know what was real and what wasn’t – I would panic. I’d get lost in my own head – in my own story – in my own mind.
You can’t shut off your thoughts and yet it serves as a reminder that you are at peace – at perfect balance with life. Imagine a seesaw that moves up and down depending on what is weighing it down on either end. And in the moment of perfect balance both ends line up perfectly and it is as though time stands still for a brief moment before the distribution of the weight comes back into place and one end rises while another falls. That is your balance with life – with peace. When everything aligns perfectly and there is a moment of calm before everything falls back into place as it should be – as it must be for life to continue to be lived – to progress. Peace exists in those split seconds, those instances of pure alignment where in comes balance - equal distribution of weight on both sides of the spectrum.
So how do I balance noise and quiet? It already happens. When there is noise there is no quiet and when there is no quiet there is noise. It is not about control it is about letting go. In the noise – living in the noise feels overwhelming – it feels like too much. It feels like I don’t have control. Precisely – because you don’t have control – it is in the noise that you let go because you don’t have control -you can’t control the noise around you – you can’t control anything. So peace is not peace of mind peace is letting go.
Noise pulls you in – it forces you to be present – in the moment. When you resist the noise you are trying to reset to a state of being that does not exist – it cannot exist in that moment and it won’t happen with you trying to force it – if anything you will be even more distracted with thoughts, feelings, emotions and frustrations over everything that has distracted you. It is letting go and allowing the moment to be exactly as it is – to be present and to allow completely – it’s a call for peace.
The more you hear the noise, the more you feel distracted and then the more at peace you will become because the more present you will be. Peace is presence. Noise pulls you into the present, into the moment, into your feelings. Feelings about the person talking, feelings about the song playing, feelings about your thoughts about your feelings. It pulls you out of the light and into the shadow so that you are able to work through them – not ignore nor hide – but to face them and move through them – that is peace.
Noise brings us back to reality – that which we live in – it brings us face to face with our resistance – with that which we do not want to face with that which we want to pretend doesn’t exist – it brings up all of our issues – our stuff. And it is in the acceptance of noise that we find peace - true peace.
Thanks to an awesome recommendation from New Age Hipster I've been reading Tosha Silver's It's Not Your Money: How to Live from Divine Abundance and in the usual way in which the Divine works - this book came across my life in exactly the moment I needed it the most.
I just started reading it yesterday and I'm not even done but I feel compelled to share the impact it's already had in my life. See yesterday was a day filled with a ton of self-imposed stress and anxiety around letting go. Around trusting the Divine's plan and removing the burden of control, expectations and outcomes that I so often place on myself. Asking me to relinquish control is like trying to take candy out of the hands of a toddler who has already had a taste. It's impossible and it's so ingrained in me - that need, that desire that in those moments nothing else exists. And yet I have known for awhile that it is one of the biggest lessons and things that I am called to overcome.
So I ask myself - Maricella, if you know this why can't you just do it? Why is it so difficult? Why does letting go literally feel like death? Like if I let go I will die. That's legit how it feels to me. It has become such a part of me that I wouldn't know how to even if I tried. And obviously knowing that it is something I needed to do didn't help - wanting it to happen didn't work either because no matter how much I tried and prayed and thought I surrendered - I wasn't able to. And I felt like a failure. Because doesn't it make perfect sense that in trying to relinquish control - I was trying to control exactly how or what that should look like? It became a vicious cycle that I was determined to get out of and yet unable to. Cue in Tosha Silver.
It was at the point that her book presented itself to me that I had finally come to a place where I accepted that this is not something I could do alone. That I needed help. That in order to give up - I needed to be open to receiving from others. And so despite my insistence that I could do it all on my own - that I needed to do it on my own - I finally relinquished a bit of control. In the past week I attended a beautiful healing ceremony, met with my Reiki teacher to receive some of my own Reiki love and will be later today attending a sound healing gathering. Additionally, I've had some pretty amazing Reiki sessions with other people who in the sharing of the intuitive messages I received for them - I realized were messages just as much for me. The Divine was speaking and sharing through me to others and back at me again - haha! We really are all connected!
Tosha's book is all about trusting, letting go and complete surrender. For me money has been one of the main roots of my own fear so the book came to me in that format but in reality the message is about so much more to me than money. For me it is about complete surrender of my life to the Divine. To trust wholly and completely that I am exactly where I need to be and that when it is time to act, I will be guided to do just that. And while these are words I would have said that I knew and understood, I needed to be open to receiving them from someone else for it to actually resonate with me. And for the first time in my life - I surrender. (ps - it's 11:11 when I stopped writing this so I'll take that as a huge amen sista from above - Thank You!)
Fear is my friend. I like to welcome her often - whether it be for Sunday dinner or morning tea. She has become a constant companion in my life - ever knocking - ever present. And I have found that despite my best efforts to ignore her, it makes her all the more insistent on hanging out. And so I have begun to welcome her in, slowly and cautiously. I have greeted her with a warm welcome at the door and have invited her in. Let's talk she said. And now I listen.
And she says...
Don't fret my child for I have never left you. That which you have hid, ignored and denied has always been. I have worn many masks but I am now here - bearing my all to you free of illusion. I have arrived to tell you that it is not I that you have chosen to deny but yourself. In your feigned ignorance you have chosen to live a life full of excuses, expectations and conditions. A world in which barriers and limitations abound, the freedom of which is so far removed you would not recognize it if it came knocking on your door. You have claimed it is other who have dimmed your light and the truth is that you have chosen to dim it yourself. Beneath the veil of your illusion you have tried to live a life that is full of comfort and knowing. A life in which feels safe and yet in that safety is exactly that which you have been trying to break free from all along - me.
In your recognition of me you become free and in your freedom may you find peace. Peace with the understanding that you can deny me no more. Peace with the knowing that no longer will I remain in hiding. When you sense me I will be in your face I will knock the wind out of you if necessary - I will tug and pull until you listen. Listen to me so that you may listen to yourself once and for all. To finally recognize that I am not to be ignored - not to be put into a box - not to be swept under the rug. To understand that it is your choice to ignore me or to hold me by the hand. To hold me in love and let me know that it is okay. That you see me, that you are sorry, that you forgive me and that you love me. And in your love I ask that you release me.
I have been your constant companion since childhood. I have been present in the warm embrace of your children, in the admiration of a beautiful bird on a rainy day and exchanged as a comforting meal with loved ones. And in that way I have served you. Served as a reminder of all that we choose to create. That in our creation of that which does not serve us we may choose to let go - we may choose love. In my love for you may I have served as one of your many teachers. May you deny me no more but instead hold me in peace, thanks and forgiveness. Should we ever cross paths again may you look upon me with fondness and greet me warmly, welcoming me over for tea after which I will depart. After which my return will no longer be needed.