Landscapes and movements as symbols
Last night around 1AM, I woke up from a dream about Oakland. The cities and towns you live in have energies and histories and destinies, just like we do. I found myself there when I was at the lowest point in my consciousness. Oakland cradled me when no one else cared.
My apartments were shit holes. I was chased, cussed at or threatened everyday. I listened to a man get stabbed and bleed out right underneath my window. I heard my neighbor — a young mother and sex worker — get bargained down to a ten dollar blow job. My best friend’s car riddled with gun shots. My building raided by the FBI. West Oakland was a ring of Dante’s Inferno, but it was my lovely hell.
The ley lines of cities map your heart. I was poor. I was broken. I was depressed. There were no pretenses. I was sad and so was everyone else around me, and I found solace in that.
In last night’s dream, I parked my car at the top of the highest hill in Oakland, got out and set off on foot to search for my love. The town became the edge of a cliff. There was no railing, just a single-track trail. I almost slipped twice, and I was scared, but I kept going. Eventually, I hit a chain-link fence and remembered how I tore my wrist open climbing one just like it when I was 8, so I chickened-out and turn back toward my car. At that moment, I woke up.
A love note I wrote in 2010, while living in Oakland.
Some dream symbolism is so blatantly obvious it slaps you in the face. I still have chain-link fences posted up in my heart. It keeps me from loving the way I want to love. I need to tear those fuckers down.
Our personal journeys to evolve/ascend/bloom-then-wither-gracefully unfold like archetypes and legends and myths. The key to discovering what story you might be living, and obstacles you are to overcome, is to learn your symbols and patterns and rhythms. There has been movement since the beginning.
The ladder of divine ascent or how to love better
If life and growth is a ladder, we are meant to go up and down. The whole ladder is made of love. You fall only from shame, guilt and repression. Sometimes I find myself on that first rung — possessive and guarded. I know I’ve been up higher than this. I can love better than this. It’s easier to get back up there once you’ve descended so many times. Each step is a perspective you’ve inhabited before. The ascent is no longer arduous but swift. Just climb back up. Someday we’ll all reach the top of this goddamn ladder. There has been movement since the beginning.
Choosing your form and Whale wisdom
From my dream book, A New Temple
In the last two psychedelic journeys (October 29, 2021 and January 8, 2022), the cosmic whales popped in. I resurfaced from the October journey with the ability to breathe deeper than I had before. They said this was important. The breath is a tool for rebirth.
Last month, I found myself with them again. The whales said, Look at your form. You choose the form you hold here on Earth.
Psychedelic journeys — like dreams and waking visions — are a gift. How you honor them is by action. I googled “whale breathing” and “whale messages.” I discovered a whole subculture of (mostly) women who swim with whales. Some of them have direct channels of communication with whales and can receive transmissions of wisdom.
I followed the path presented to me and I signed up for WhaleBreathing zoom sessions and began reading the book: Whale Wisdom Dolphin Joy: Ascension Teachings from the Cetaceans by June Sananjaleen Hughes.
The WhaleBreathing classes left me in an altered state. Euphoric. Like mini-journeys. I breathe deeper now. My breath is an anchor in the sea of my subconscious. It is a gift and a tool.
Regarding “the form we hold here on Earth” — I found clarity in the book:
…the Whales you see, are ever at this point of integration between the dimensions. Their physical body resides in the world of form, but their consciousness remains aware of their spiritual existence, their spirituality … They hold the balance between the dimensions, a statement you find hard to follow ~ but without the Whales the seas would be in chaos. And the seas represent the subconscious, that hidden and little understood part of your mind that dwells within your rhythm of awareness. … The Whales are at peace. Oblivious to outside interference, they live their dream in the ocean depths. They experience the turmoil, the turbulence, the inharmonious frequencies of the outer world, oh yes. But they allow it not to penetrate their inner being, their inner calm, the heart of their awareness. Their centeredness, or point of focus. Were they to allow the discord of an outer or alien world to penetrate their own, they would disintegrate, their form dispelled, annihilated by thought patterns of aggressiveness. The waves of calamitous sound would shatter their form. For their form is held in shape by a frequency that borders on Divine. Angelic perhaps would be more to your understanding. At any rate, there is a very fine frequency that holds their shape in form. And they have learned to hold fast to their ideal or focus that All is One, that they are not separate from the whole, from the Godhead, from the Source. And we encourage you and your cohorts to emulate the Whales, to practice steadfastness in holding true to a thought or pattern that is Divine in origin. Seek ye first the kingdom of heaven and all else shall follow. And it is for you to determine what is meant by kingdom of heaven. A State of Grace maybe. An elevated concept of consciousness, in which you may hold or carry your tune of intent with dedication and commitment to purpose. And here we are assuming that your purpose is the divine blueprint that you drew for yourselves, before you entered embodiment. Be like the Whales and allow nothing external to detract from this purpose. Insulate yourself. Pad your aura with an extra wad of good humor, of joie de vivre, of tolerance and respect. Glue it all together with the love of understanding, and wear this armor amour on all occasions….
I see whales now as satellites — spaceships in the sea. Divine consciousness. Something to emulate.
Answer all your self questions or else they float there like your lost bodies
The younger version of me could not be pulled through the dimension. Her skeletal frame was frozen and split and hanging from a branch. Her consciousness could not translate. I was sad but I accepted it. What else could I do? Answer the question, they say. Answer all your self questions or else they float there like your lost bodies. The girl drops from the tree as an egg 🥚. I bend in between the worlds to pick myself up. The egg is glowing. Obviously I’m fertile. A man is speaking on a PA system. I only hear the words … “Come be …. Your future is bright.”
The Grounding Stakes or a Resolution for Trauma
You can feel free and blow in the wind and be grounded.
The psychic language of images is intimate. There is no universal visual dictionary to help you decipher your visions or dreams. Why would you want one anyway?
You are a Psyche Archeologist and this is a solo expedition. Your mission is to discover new aspects of your self, interpret your personal images, and then merge this new meaning into your soul. This is a long journey we are on.
On the inside of my left wrist is the word heal tattooed in white ink. It is fourteen years old and fading and it is a monument to my suffering.
After years of therapy and talking about the trauma and then not talking about the trauma, I wondered what the end game would be. What does a healed person look like?
What do I feel like? Someone who has sovereignty over her mind, body and spirit. Someone who can pause and reflect in the face of strong emotions. Someone who is grounded and open-minded, and most of all, open-hearted.
Still, the question persisted. What does a healed person look like? The answer came in the form of an image — an image infused with an overwhelming sense of gratitude and love and freedom.
I saw myself as an expansive tent — if not tied down — I would blow away. I saw the traumatic event in my life as a stake grounding me to the Earth. I felt grateful for my grounding stake.
I recognize and accept the event as a part of my history. It is not the suffering I appreciate, but the journey to heal and how it has widened my capacity to love.
Not all of my stakes are made of trauma. One of them is my loving husband. The others I am still getting to know, but each day I am grateful for them.
How beautiful that I can be a sprawling tent with the wind blowing in my face, and how it feels like I am flying, all because of my grounding stakes.
Guide Posts as God Posts
Confession: I have been carrying the belief that one day I would get to the peak of the mountain I’ve been climbing and awarded with all the answers to the unknown. I had a realization yesterday that there is no mountain peak with answers, only guide posts along this never-ending path. So, I speech-to-texted myself this epiphany and it auto-corrected “guide posts” to “God posts.” Maybe that is one answer.
Becoming: a process for transformation or how to create pivotal change
There has been a persistent question echoing inside me. I can’t put it into one sentence, but it involves creating pivotal change and becoming.
Becoming is the process of transformation and not an ending. I hope there is never an ending.
The answer came in the form of a visual: An anchor dropping into my heart.
Something needs to anchor itself in you visually and emotionally to create pivotal change.
I’m learning to live with the imaginal world. It’s been speaking this entire time. It speaks in dreams and waking life. It speaks in images that flicker in and out during the day. It speaks in thoughts that press to your forehead like sticky notes. It speaks.
For every desire there is a visual and emotional resonance. Anchor these in your heart. Live with it daily. Ask them out to play. You are not an automaton building habits. You are a creator imagining an ideal world and then pulling that world closer to you.
Draw your inner child’s dream bedroom
One of the healing frogs, and
a page from my book “A New Temple”
I dreamed that child me was standing in an empty room. My husband was there. He offered to build me the childhood bedroom that I never had but always wanted. Just then the door flew open and the frogs — who I call the “healing frogs” — hopped in to help.
Unfortunately, I woke up. So I meditated to re-enter the dream. I envisioned everything that child me dreamed of having: a wall full of books, a window seat for reading, a view of a river, an art easel, and a microscope.
I then envisioned what adult me would appreciate: a chaise lounge and bar cart with endless, flowing champagne, a sitting area for friends and tea, and another window with a view of mountains.
This room is now a visual safe space that I can return to in meditation for solace. If there is an answer I need, I can pull a book from my shelf. If there is something that is confusing me, I can inspect it under the microscope.
After completing the drawing, it became obvious to me that all the spaces and things inside my room are the most important aspects of my life — quietude, learning, art, connection, nature, and celebration.
Astrological Consequences Or How To Embody Freedom
My birth chart.
I received a reading from my favorite cosmic outlaw / astrologer Antero Alli — side note: there really should exist more cosmic outlaws in my life — and his advice helped me evolve the concept of Freedom in my life. He said:
Freedom is the ability to make any decision, or take any action, as long as you are willing to “buy” the consequences.
So I try to have a constant awareness of consequences and a persistent self-question of “Can I buy the consequences?” All of my actions and decisions come from a deep yes inside of me and because of that I feel the embodiment of freedom every day.
Note: This post is an excerpt from my weekly mind dump newsletter, sent out each Friday.
Think Radially
Think Radially is the phrase I use to help me bypass my analytical mind. It works because it is impossible to think radially, so instead I visualize my existence spiraling out of a nautilus shell.
Think Radially acts as a taproot into my expanded consciousness and it permeates all possibilities.
To Think Radially is to transcend time. I give myself equal footing in all possibilities that exist. Everything is within my grasp — even the paths I did not choose.
The life that you fear will never be lived continues to unfold. You can sense it in the spaces between your breath and in the silence between your sentences. Events exist in all realms: mental, physical, emotional, spiritual, ethereal. Your cells are communicating and aging, while your emotions are maturing and your thoughts are evolving. When I say Think Radially that is my attempt to grasp what is happening behind the veil.
Your ancestors are You.
You begin to know your parents and lovers and friends more intimately, because you see their missing spaces. The space between their possibilities. You see their journey — the direction in which they’ve always been reaching. You see their sacred imagery. All along it’s been staring you in the face. This supernatural reality.
You knew from the beginning how everything would end: that relationship, the career, a move. You know this in the same way a compass needle ticks toward its magnetic north — pulling you toward what you’re most attracted to. Try to sense the direction in which your compass is pointing and then sense all the other directions you not will be walking toward. This is Thinking Radially — a doorway for connecting to your intuition.
On sacred loneliness
This is not a how-to. There are no steps for shifting loneliness into solitude. Loneliness is an intrusion that makes my bones cold. Loneliness feels like a void and Solitude is a sanctuary. Some days I just feel separate from the universe.
I think of the Rupi Kaur quote “Loneliness is a sign you are in desperate need of yourself,” but what I am missing is not myself, but my connection with the Divine. And Yes, I know the Divine is also me, but knowing this doesn’t make the loneliness go away.
The gaping hole in my heart grows wider and I ache for a sign, or a signal of love, or for someone to seek me out. When I was in my twenties this is when I would go out to bars, get drunk, sleep around — anything to escape myself. What I do now is different.
I seek out nothing. I acknowledge that I am in pain and I sit with it. I imagine other humans feeling this same profound sadness with no source point and I breathe into that feeling. This is how I create an equilibrium. I remind myself this is a condition of being human. I find connection in the separateness and that is what brings me comfort.
This mystifying grief called loneliness belongs to you and it belongs to me and everyone else, and that is what makes it sacred.
The Labyrinth Theory
What I love about walking labyrinths is that the closer you get to the center the farther you are in distance. Life has often felt that way too.
A brief summary of the past 37 years: I am born to two teenage immigrants who speak no English. As they grow, I grow too. Their mistakes are my mistakes. I am uprooted and left behind. In my earliest memories, I am always alone. I write love letters to God and search for portals in trees. I will be the new girl in school 15 times. Being called “weird” or “poor” will never faze me. By age 10, I am irrevocably damaged and weighed down with worry. Poetry saves me. I write it all down — the dark parts and the dreams. I never stop searching for meaning. At age 17, I move across the country to survive on my own. Besides books and my own intuition — and the occasional Divine interference — there is no guidance. A decade is spent destroying when all I want is to create. After one near-death experience and three suicide attempts — at age 30 — I decide to get off Zoloft and heal through nature and talk therapy. I give up poetry for a brief time. I ground myself in the Earth. I meet my husband — my anchor. I grow beautiful friendships. I find my center. It feels a lot like the wonder and magic of my short childhood. All those years spent in the outer circles, I never knew how close I was to myself.
The Black Tapestry
I found myself in a dark void, surrounded by a primordial and formless space. At first, I thought I had lost all my senses. Everything was deep black and soundless and there was no gravity. I was a floating consciousness with no home. This is limbo, I thought — or maybe I just knew and didn’t think any thoughts. I seemed to understand things without processing them. This is intuition. This is clairvoyance. This is my third eye. Out of the void, a bolt of fabric came into view. It was also black and began to slowly unroll itself before me. A velvety, onyx-colored cloth expanding to the edges of my perception, until it became what I knew as my sole existence. All at once, an invisible hand started embroidering symbols and archetypes and allegories. I read the fabric from left to right — stitch by stitch — I was witnessing my life from birth to now. An orphrey of multi-dimensional imagery. Each symbolic stitching embodying a multitude of history and emotion and language. And the colors — such vivid hues of violet, orange, crimson and pink. It looked like something my long-lost ancestral aunts in Mexico might have sewn. But even though the colors were bright and festive, I was quickly overtaken by grief and discouragement. By now, the invisible hand had finished its work midway through the fabric, leaving almost exactly half of it blank. What lay before me was an unfinished tapestry so deeply embedded with neglect and loss and scarcity — all of which were at this moment so foreign to me. I wanted out of this vision, and hurtful reminder of where I had come from. My shapeless consciousness grew hot with shame, and pulsated with anxiety that spread outward into nothing. This must be how stars die, I thought. No, This is how stars die. I knew. Then came a gentle cooling. I was reminded — telepathically — that what I was seeing was my past. The other half of the tapestry still remained to be embroidered. They said it would be stitched by my own hand and with only the values and experiences that I wanted for this life. Symbols of love and animals and friendship and nature and art and freedom and magic, and these simple words do no justice to the rich power that lies behind them, because just like the embroidery they are a prism. Multi-faceted and pure light. An energy of such high vibration that it could only belong to the Gods. And as I began to accept this as truth — in the core of my being — my sadness gracefully morphed into rapture and gratitude and passion. This was an invitation to stand at the helm of my life. And I took it. And my own black velvet tapestry is just one of infinite tapestries eternally unfolding across the universe — a divine display of all the soul journeys that embark onto unknown space and create something beautiful.
How to ascend (a growing list of ways to elevate your energy)
Unanchor yourself
Make conscious choices
Exist in the waiting period
Sunbathe
Space out the silences
Ask for guidance
Pray & listen (meditate)
Stretch past your shame
See people as energies
Forgive. Accept. Love.
Breathe as deeply as you can into your mind, heart and body
Sound bathe in nature / Soul bathe in nature