The Stillness that is the Harvest

Sometimes, when we really pay complete attention, we are gifted with a communion that takes us out of our daily existence and into the 'real' experience of life.  

Four summers ago I visited the Devoto Memorial Cedar Grove on Lolo Pass. This grove from the first moment I heard of it has been calling and gifting me deeply.  Each summer since hearing the first call, I have returned and included one good friend to travel the grove with me.  Each friend has experienced and brought to the Cedars' a much-needed piece.

My personal blend of sacred herbs & plants includes the cedar from this grove, my clearing tools include a large piece of bark from the Grandmother Tree magically shaped like a cedar feather fan.  Every trip has been blessed with a special harvest of needles and bark, wisdom and words, strength & courage leaving behind gifts of my love and respect.  These visits have been magic-filled.

In 2012 I was told not to go further than the first 10 feet which of course I gently challenged.  Here was my first opportunity to step into a forest filled with ancient ancestors only to be asked to leave. 

In 2013 hearing I needed to come and  harvest cedar for a special blend I was to make, we arrived and heard repeatedly 'NO not here’.  Finding nothing had fallen to the ground to gather we decided to head home.   Winding back over the pass I heard a loud "Pull off Here" command and found myself face to face with 3 large cedar trees standing with branches loaded and offering their needles for sacred use.  

Last summer brought me to the Grandmother Cedar.  She had fallen across the trail blocking access to the area where I usually make my offerings and sit to drum.  She beckoned me to lie upon her and be with her.  Feeling the life still beating within her and hearing her song as I lay there took me to a deeper understanding of the magic between trees and me, actually all of this planet and me.  I have always loved the place we call Earth.  I have ached for her and cheered with her, shed tears for her and rallied for her, knowing that she will always forgive and continue to offer love to us.  She has protected me and drawn me closer to my medicine ways.  She has taken me home through her night sky and brought me back with the waking sun.  Yet the visit last year laid me open.  It carved the path for me to really grasp what was to be shown in the months ahead.

Grandmother Cedar gifted me with memories and bark from her fallen trunk.  I took several pieces but stopped before she told me.  I stopped because I did not want to be a glutton.  This May as I prepared for my trip to Ireland & Glastonbury I gathered satchels of my sacred blend digging into my stash of cedar.  It became evident in my preparations that I would soon be out of cedar needles and would need to ask to come harvest in the grove.  As I visited Ireland I left offerings to the land and was gifted small pieces of the Irish landscape for the sacred grove here.  Glastonbury welcomed my offerings of cedar and at Og & Magog I received a piece to bring back to Grandmother.  

Shortly after my return I heard Grandmother call asking me to come and see her.  I was asked to bring a friend and was given that friends name.  This wonderful friend has a gift of healing and as soon as the invitation was offered she connected with the grove and prepared for our visit.  And now in 2015 we came to assist with the matrix as a support to a new paradigm needed for the cedars to survive.

Upon our arrival we were asked to reverse my normal routine.  First we were to go to my special sacred spot, drum, and make our offerings.  The Grove whispered its hello and delight in our visit.  Grandmother Cedar chastised me for my reluctance to take more my last visit.  Why was I so stubborn to take what had been offered?  What was this 'belief' in my excuse of gluttony?  Who was I to determine when a gift was enough?  WoW!  She was right.  Who did I think I was to 'know' what was the right amount for a gift?  Why would I put a governor on the outpouring of sacredness?

Traversing through the grove we finally came to Grandmother Cedar.  She had been cut into several pieces so the trail could be cleared.  Her heart still beat as she lay there, holding the interim Grandmother and the matrix of the grove in a supporting love.  She knew as the Grove did that the old ways of holding space upon Earth needed to change.  It could no longer fall upon one.  There was a call now for several groupings of trees to bind together and then each group would hold the next until the matrix became a honeycomb shape and support system.  We were asked to help in setting the matrix and flow.  We were also asked to partake so we could understand the need for this paradigm shift.  

Coming face to face with her once again, I was transported back to last year and my special time with her.  Knowing I was to stay open to her guidance and blessings of the gift of her bark and needles, I pulled my bag out and listened.  Gently taking her bark, needles from the branches that had begun to grow from her fallen trunk, tears flowed as I realized that soon she would be out in the world blessing homes, ceremonial fires, and altars.  I continued until I heard her tell me "Take one piece just for you, my daughter, to remember me by for I won't be here next time you come".  I gently laid the piece of offering I brought from Ireland and Glastonbury, stepping back I turned, my heart saddened yet full, knowing she would be gone when I returned.

Continuing our work it became apparent that each group of three old cedars had around them groups of three much younger trees creating a matrix of 12 that connected to the next 12.  As we worked diligently, several groups of visitors would walk along the trails in the grove, stopping occasionally to chat with us.  The entire time we worked there were no groups of 2 or 5 only the combo of 3, 9, and 12 ~ trees and humans.  Finally we found ourselves back at the opening to the grove facing  a line of male cedars guarding the grove from the highway.  We were instructed to leave them as they were ~ connected to each other but not the grove.  These cedars are the Guardians of the Grove.  This place holds so much for all who visit.  What a blessing to be asked to help.
  

Often times we think we are being respectful by our humility yet there are times when it is only our ego that declares the reasons for our humility.  When I stopped taking the gifts Grandmother Cedar offered last year out of my need to 'not take too much and be disrespectful'  I wasn't able to gift fully to others.  I had to be careful with what I used in my sacred blend and in sharing with others.  Being concerned about 'running out' brought lack to others and myself.  Had I continued to gather more of Grandmother Cedar would be out in the world today.

It is so important to listen closely and not 'read into' or let our ego interfere in our sacred work.  Whether it is in our gathering of sacred offerings, building our connections, or learning + listening from Spirit and our Soul, don't quit when You think it is time.  Stop when all goes quiet and the stillness of the sacred moment assures you that completion has happened.  

This journey we are traversing is filled with opportunities to lengthen and strengthen our connection to our Higher Soul Self and Source.  We are here to learn and grown.  Don't think because you have 'arrived' and completed course after course that you are done learning.  Oh no ~ Beware of that ego trap!  HA, Baba Yaga loves those times.

So keep on keeping on!  Learn, Laugh, and Leap!

The journey continues ~

The Soul Traveler xoxox

Back in the game ..... work game that is

My life is changing once again.  On a scale of 1-10 this is a change with which I am familiar so it ranks low on the scale.  I am so different now that this experience is being created from a deeper level, a shamanic level, a higher soul self, and a universal level.  This isn't a typical 8-5 existence anymore.  This is work on a soul level.  

As this knowledge and understanding was unveiling itself to me, in the midsts of confusion, doubts, and emotions, I journeyed to quell the storm that seemed to want to rise from deep within.  I wasn't looking to stop the storm I was looking for the direction through the midsts and to quiet the rushing sounds so I could hear the words that would soothe me.  It was a quick journey filled with trepidation as the fears mounted in my body only to be calmed by the warming embrace of the Universe as these words filled my head.  

"Your soul is after the growth not the money and Source will fill in where the money might appear to be thin. If your desire is to live from your soul then you need to feed it and trust that you have never been dropped. They need you as much as you will need them each day.  You are not to sit upon the mountain but to bring the mountain to them.  There is so much yet to be seen by your eyes, to be understood by your mind, to be felt by your body that will bring you deeper into your path, your Beingness.  You cannot perceive all that is about but you can perceive the depth of love present for you at this moment.  We understand the fretting, the human illusions where you co-exist, we know this is but part of being a human and we KNOW that your soul desires the ultimate expression and will not be denied.  Seek us to support your human needs and allow us to keep you in the present.  We know your human desires and we know that you have come to understand the deeper expression."  I left the journey with the first two sentences emblazoned upon tongue. 

I called and accepted employment with the Department of Developmental Disabilities for the state of Montana.  Employment that would not be meeting the minimum monthly amount for me to 'make ends meet'.  It was a $.25 an hour short. Yet it pulled me to it the first day of the interviews with the Tibetan Prayer flags adorning the reception room, the Ojo de Dios hanging in the front windows, the spontaneous laughter erupting during the interview, the truly 'casual' dress code, the honesty of needs, and yes there is great retirement and vacation benefits.  I accepted the position trusting the words I had heard spoken and within five minutes of the acceptance I was told of a 5% rate increase in November which took me above my minimum.  I laughed understanding that I do not see the entire picture.  I chortled knowing my guidance, the Universe and my soul were 'knuckle stamping' each other.  (Some may think I hold issues around money and that is not the case as I have always had exactly what I need when I need it.  I am a Pisces astrologically where money is not the ultimate desire and my numerology dictates monetary success so instinctually I balance.)

This is only a glimpse of the 3rd dimensional experience.  The capture of being present to the moment, understanding the capable aspects of Self, and willingness to trust unabashedly would reveal perceived hidden mapping of my journey.  This mapping lay hidden because I had yet to acquire all the tools to read the maps.  As I willingly dove deeper into my true essence, tools were revealed to help me read my changing maps.  Yes, there are many maps drawn for our journeys which are switched and changed based on decisions and non-decisions.  Just like maps for each state and the many countries on earth we are gifted with individual compact maps.  They are overlaid on our list of attainments adjusting as we peel and dive deeper.   Like the surveyor we adjust as the terrain changes.  

Early in my awakening, I wanted so much to no longer 'work' in the world.  Instead I desired spending my days in earnest pursuit of the deeper meanings of life and sharing those discoveries with others in workshops, in other words, sitting upon the mountain.  I tried several times leaving employment to build a practice and each time the funding dried up requiring me to return to the workplace.  Many hours have been spent in reflection seeking the 'reason' for not attaining enough financial support and non-fulfillment of my desires.  Casting doubts upon my abilities, yet seeing very clearly the impact my return to the world was having on those around me, I fretted and concluded I needed to just try harder to build a practice.  This thinking allowed the ego to implant the concept that I was not a fully realized soul if I couldn't build a practice outside of the standard employment.  

These last months of unemployment have sped quickly by taking me once again to the state of return.  There was no massive booming of a practice, there was a steady increase, a nourishing of soul, a clearing of patterns and the final realization that my soul path, my soul agreement, my most impactful place was in the work game.  It was there that the most seeds were planted, the deeper touching of soul to soul, the quiet shamanic support of community to be given, and where the Universe filled my soul path.  My ego was wrong.  I am a fully realized soul in each moment no matter if it is in standard employment or a private practice.  Shaking off the perceived 'right way' to be a spiritual being takes courage, clarity of truth, and a willingness to go against the flow.  Discarding this illusion creates freedom.

Not all of us get to leave the work world and build private practices.  Many of us are most impactful in the challenging world of constant human interaction.  We change the course of someone by being in an 8-5 job.  Having a human experience as a spiritual being entails living within the experience of non-awaken souls.  As you create the clients, the spiritual life you so deeply desire, being smack dab in the midst of the perceived chaos brings a wealth of empathy, compassion and an energetic signature of 'you know how they feel' that is invaluable and life changing.  Mother Teresa didn't sit in the convent and serve her community.  She lived among them.  The world needs all of us.  Those who are not in the world and those who are in the world.  Find value in where Spirit has you.  Go about knowing that by being you, the true and deep you, no matter what the scenery is, has value undiscovered and life-changing.  We can't all leave the world.  As you struggle within the environment of the workplace, seek the truth of the situation and trust that your soul is being fed and serving the greater whole.  Create a workplace without struggle, create a private practice within your corporate, non-profit, retail, or government job.

I no longer reflect in a wanting state of where I am going or why I am some where.  I reflect now on how I can show up as the true me.  Where is my ego still leading the way, why is this moment challenging, how can I best serve all of us, and what makes my heart sing?  These are the questions I review.  How life appears doesn't matter.  How life impacts does.  Rushing about creates chaos, walking softly blooms love, being present for every moment creates opportunity.

Taking the essence of being into the world of constant doing sets the ripples of change into motion.  Finding your practice within the world of employment leads everyone further along their soul path even when it appears otherwise.  We are not here to create scenarios.  We are here to feed our souls, uncover the illusion of separation, and walk the cosmic, divine, christed Essence into this lifetime.

If you are happy being you, you will be happy in any work you do.

And the journey continues.....

The Soul Traveler

And so .....

As the months of 2014 ebb and flow to us, I realize that I have been on a 7 month journey of unemployment insurance that has drawn to an end.  

I know without a shadow of doubt that I am not the same woman who looked out into the world on November 27, 2013.  I cannot even remember who she was.  There is a tad bit of a memory of how she felt and an understanding of her story.  There is a deeper understanding of how the story dissolved, the realization of a stronger essence of her, and a willingness to feel into the moment and hold no expectation, no opinion of what is to be. 

Oh the journey was complete with wildness, back-ups, and delight.  It carried me to a place I had desired to hold deeply.  It carried me out into a jungle replete with tangles, rushing water, and mystery.  The adventure did not disappoint.  It has no ending.

I am truly blessed with the opportunity to focus solely on my path.  And these last 7 months allowed a deeper involvement into uncovering this path.  It enabled me to bring into my daily life a realization of how my path, even the search of it, was individualized from others. 

Through this time a stronger concise understanding of who I was, coupled with a releasing of old patterns and beliefs, balanced by acceptance of the value of illusion moved me into an empathy of self and my community.  The freedom to lay about, wander the mountain top, grovel in the frustrations, and epitomize standardization pushed me to turn and deny the existence of self; to die to myself as I had never imagined.

There has been a shamans death experience, a mystics evaporation, and yet what I was being asked for did not contain another level of these prerequisites to soul evolution.  I have experienced a burning to the ground, the severing of the leash, but I had not experienced the dying to myself.  The dying took place sudden with the realization of the ask, moved into flowing with the demands of daily life, and ended in an ancient ritual that almost seemed uneventful.  It was the forward motion after the dying that emphasized the Divine's request.  

Every time I looked to draw a frame of reference the screen was blank.  It wasn't just the screen of Future but the screen of Past that lay black and empty.  Only the place of Here and Now held any form or design.  Anything presenting itself to me was met with nothing but what I knew to be true for me.  Trying to decipher anything has been unsettling.

The unsettling is not in being unable to fit in or know the direction.  The unsettling is learning to walk completely within the present.  It is learning that where I once related in life with others is non-existent and non-essential.  It is non-identifying.  It cannot relate to me as much as I cannot relate to it.  In the midst of all of it, there is laughter, joy, tears, love, and a completeness.  A focus of all is finished within itself bringing with it a solid sense of self without identity.  

Spirit has said others have experienced this and many will join in the dying to themselves.  Everyone will be offered, not all will accept, and all will continue along their path.

Having words to express this past 9 months has been very difficult.  Having words to express this newest endeavor has been even more difficult.  It has not mattered that there are no words.  It does not matter if I ever climb the mountain top, it no longer matters what I hold dear, where I wander, who I meet or don't meet, how I show up to the world is all that matters.  Do I come with my heart open, my mind quiet, my eyes bright, my ears listening, and my tongue gentle? Do I come willing to share everything including the unacceptable?  Do I come each day willing to make it a good day to die?  Do I come prepared to return to the primordial juices?  Am I willing to live outside the perceived existence of all that matters?  Am I willing to be the ancient?  Am I willing to hold past, present, future completely within me?

These questions may seem to be those we all ask ourselves daily.  This time there is a very large difference in asking them.  We all know being who we truly are means living with hearts open, mind quiet, listening, no opinions, etc., and yet this is different.  

Dying to yourself means you cannot do anything else but show up as an unidentifiable person.  You cannot be You.  You can only Be.

The Soul Traveler

No sympathy... just be

I honestly don't know how to begin or really why share what I am being asked to share.  

All of our lives are punctuated by moments that shape them.  They can be tragic, simple, moving, courageous and a myriad of other adverbs.  Having added shamanism to my modalities I truly believe that it is through releasing our stories that great healing and spiritual communion takes place.  I also know that the human species learns through stories that are shared.  My dilemma is about sharing one particular personal story.  

I am currently taking a writing intensive course to help push into the world a story I penned several years ago.  Stories need to be written and if they only touch one person it has accomplished its purpose.  I get that.  What is happening is a personal story is surfacing, one I verbally share when the need arises. It is a subject that has been written many times by other authors.  I personally am not in need of telling the story, yet the story keeps asking to be written.  

I am adding a disclaimer here - Please NO sympathy... just be with this raw and naked story.

The Matrix of the Heart -

May 4, 1999 was like no other day.  It was a day of reckoning, not just for me it would also be for everyone who had ever come in contact with me.  It did start unusual but not glaringly unusual.  I am getting ahead of myself so let me start over.

Once upon a time there lived a very beautiful, stubborn, independent young woman.  Oh she thought she understood the cruelty of the world and how to traverse through it so as not to get harmed.  Little did she know that soon her life would ask even more.  Into her life would come a screaming, demanding, carefree loving creature that would one day break her heart.

But before that happened there was much to take place.  

Yes you guessed it I am describing the younger me.  I really believed that I knew how to traverse the world, the world that had given me years of pain, confusion, and isolation during a time when most young women were trying on new dresses, new boyfriends, and new identities.  As soon as high school was over I leapt at the chance to get as far away from home, friends, and family to strike out on my own.  I succeeded by arriving in Albuquerque to start what I thought was to be a new life.  The new start lasted 2 years before all the pain that had been buried surfaced in the form of drugs and alcohol leading to the departure from New Mexico and the return to my beginnings.  Stubbornly I refused to seek help and once again traversed the highways for a new beginning.  Thank god I had a magnificent guardian angel that tweaked my trail to recovery. Leaving the bar scene behind literally, I found employment in banking taking me to an environment that required I sober up.  I excelled at the banking craft, found a wonderful man, and started to clear the fog from my eyes.  As so often happens moments come forward that forever alter our lives.  

One lovely winter day, as I stood in the dressing room with my mother, I made a remark on some physical changes I was experiencing.  My mother never even blinked.  Two months later I knew without a shadow of doubt what those physical changes meant. Yep you guessed it.

Before my son was born his father in the quiet of the night left me with the excuse he had not asked for this right now.  I cried for 3 nights exactly, begging to not be pregnant then quietly put his picture away and assumed the position of single mother.  I struggled to pay the rent and panicked over telling my boss I was pregnant.  Telling my parents was scary but nothing like telling a boss who held the ability to fire me.  This was pre-FMLA, not so long ago they could fire you for being single and pregnant.  I carried on.  It was a time of reflection, determination, and a strange connection was building deep within me.

Oh I remember the day he was born!  I adored this bundle.  The hushed whispers weren't hushed enough.  I heard the remarks of being an unwed mother. I felt the judgment.  I also firmly told the nurses if one more person asked me if I was going to give him up for adoption I would rip their heads off.  It was at that point that I finally was able to hold my son, not a couple of hours later but 6 hours later.  He was beautiful!!  He spoke to me and whispered thanks.  Together we walked out into the world ready to face anything it could serve us.

The first 5 months were pure hell.  He had colic and would not sleep.  I had a job that required I show up rested or once again they could fire me.  His father reappeared asking to see his son, apologized, and then broached the subject of his return.  I agreed, said my peace and he became the nanny until he went overseas.  Stories could be told of those months, funny stories but those are his stories not mine to share. His father stayed 18 months and once again my son and I were alone.   

We spent the next 4 years alone together.  It was not all ice cream and cake.  I wasn’t particularly the Martha Stewart of Motherhood.  I loved him and parented the best I knew how.  We giggled, we cried, we yelled, a lot of yelling, we moved, we talked, we read, we lived and knew each other like no one else knew us.  Again changed entered our life. 

Thinking that we needed to add a father into the dynamics  I remarried.  We welcomed him and his children into our life.  This was a whole other ball game, a game that really needed help.  It lasted for 9 years until finally I came home and called it quits.  I left because my son was changing from a caring, loving boy into a bigoted, uncaring robot.  I was responsible for instilling love and care into him and could not stand by as a witness to what he was becoming. 

We left in a cloud of destruction.  It was a very nasty time that blew up any false images I had been hanging on to about myself.  It was the moment we had both been marking time for.

My son and I spent the next 5 years reconnecting and growing.  They were times of mud slinging, blaming, crying, and a return to home.  This time was so welcomed by us both!  We could breath once again.  I left behind everything I thought was true about myself.  I walked straight into a spiritual communion with my soul.  My son walked right beside me discovering who he truly was and what all this had been about. 

For the first time without all the baggage, I watched my son excel and become this incredibly wise man.  We would have deep spiritual discussions of why, how, what, and just because.  He mirrored to me how my ego would interfere with my perceptions.  He taught me how words could change realities and he helped clarified for us why we danced this dance.  I remember having a discussion with him about soul mates and arguing the difference between soul mates and soul partners.  He said to me, “these are just words and labeling used by us to remain in the old paradigm.  There is no difference between the words.   Every person you come into contact is your soul mate/partner.  If we choose, these interactions will offer a deep intimacy.  We get confused and think the intimacy we feel with a soul mate should lead to sex because sex has been our tool to this intimacy.  The common form of sex, the way we use it, is the ego’s use of illusion and deception.’   And his favorite, ‘get over yourself, there are a billion other you’s out there struggling with the same questions, believing the same illusions’. 

I loved those nights of deep discussion and sharing. I relaxed the mother role, welcomed him into a new relationship of being the adult I had seen he would one day become and mentored him as he stepped into his dreams.

Together we woke to a morning that would forever punctuate our lives.  It was a normal early day in May but it wasn’t completely normal.  He struggled with waking up and starting his day.  My appointments for the day had changed twice before 9am. 

The night before we had stayed up late just chatting.  The conversation found itself heading into a baring of our souls to each other.  I apologized to him for not being the mother who could go a day without yelling and keeping his younger years stable.  I told him I was so very proud of him and that the man he was would be an incredible husband and father.  I laughed with him about my sometimes over-the-top stubborn insistence on respecting all women and fighting the good fight.  I told him I loved him the minute I found out I was pregnant through all the years and especially now.  He told me he understood I did the best I could and that he always knew that I would be there for him.  He told me he loved me.  I gave him my blessing to follow his own drummer. We finished the night with a hug and kiss. 

Having this memory of that night would support me through the days and years to come.

At 10:30am on May 4, 1999 I would receive a call that would insure I would never remain the same.  I could recite to you the call, the drive, the scene but I don’t want your sympathy.  What I want is to share with you how the matrix of the heart works.  I admit it has taken me many paragraphs to get to this part.  The words have been condensed considering they cover 21 years.  I wanted to show the pattern of our life together.  The pattern that can never be undone nor redone.  They are years that brought my son and I to a departure.  A departure I would not wish on anyone.  It was divinely orchestrated and held wisdom of the ages, deep eternal love, and required me to truly become who I really am. 

The Matrix of the Heart is how I survived my son’s death.  Yes, at first it was survival.  I hated everyone who had a child. I hated myself for being such a shitty mom.  I hated Josh for leaving.  I especially hated God and all his guardian angels.  I hated life.  At the same time I pleaded with God, the Divine, the Universe to take me back to the exact moment when I arrived at the accident and heard the choir of angels welcoming my Josh home.  I wanted to remain forever in their Grace.  I wanted to remain where I could see Josh walking towards the light, towards the love that knocked me off my feet.  I wanted to go where he went. 

Instead I heard his voice call out to me at night telling me he was ok.  Telling me I had promises to fulfill and reminding me of the discussions we had that were to be shared with others.  In my darkest minute a phone would ring and a stalwart friend would bring me back to the present.  Through my dear friends Josh would speak to me.  They shared with me the way I would always know he was near; the penny which would appear out of nowhere.  They sent emails describing him showing up to ride with them on long trips or sit with them as they moved through their own dark nights.

My heart was shattered into oblivion, ached deeply and constantly.  I found myself alone in my grief.  I questioned my sanity. I prayed, begging God to bring him back knowing full well it would never happen.  I gave myself permission for the very first time in my life to sit with all the pain, the pain of being human.  In sitting with all the pain, I found myself.  I glimpsed the light that would bring me out of the dark.  I did not know nor did I care what my life would become.  I just sat in my pain refusing to build a story around it, allowing it to heal.  I allowed the pain to mend my shattered heart. 

My heart healed because I believed that the love I had for my son could never be destroyed.  I knew that his heart and mine, his heart and those he met, my heart and those I met were deeply entwined never to be broken.  No one could ever take that away from me.  I knew God would never ask me to give up Love.  It was through truly loving that I would live again.

No one except someone who has also lost a child could ever understand this moment in my life.  I did not ask anyone to join me there.  I did seek someone to listen as I wailed and grieved.  I found that someone, those someone’s and I know there were times when they felt helpless and tired of hearing the same song.  They never refused to listen.

I know everything leading up to May 1999 prepared me for his death.  My longing to be understood and loved prepared me.  The innate knowing of something deeper than the world I saw outside my window sustained me.  My stubbornness drove me to push through the pain, confusion and helped me not to give up.  The real piece that allowed me to believe in the light, believe in myself, believe that nothing was ever in vain was my awakening to my soul and Spirit.  It was those early years when I first embraced my true essence that brought me through to share my heart. 

There were times when I was carried by my soul. 

It is not for us to know what lies ahead.  It is for us to trust that we have within us the tools to walk our path.  Our lives are not defined by our stories.  They are only punctuated by the moment.  It is when we allow our stories to direct who we are and where we are going that we are lost from the intimacy of Spirit.  No one can ever walk your path for you.  They can and will walk beside you creating a matrix that gives freely.  The matrix can support you during the punctuated moments.  It will help you to loose the story.  It works because the matrix is the true essence of Spirit, of our souls.  It is up to you what you do with the gift of the matrix.    

I know what I did with the Matrix of the Heart. 

xoxoxo

The Soul Traveler and Josh