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.