The inner desire for change and evolve to ascend into a higher version of ourselves, to become that magical butterfly that emerges from the cocoon flapping its iridescent wings to the backdrop of a thundering waterfall landing delicately upon sunkissed floral petals – what a beautiful celebration of transitions it would be.
It’s a picturesque image. One minute you're a fuzzy little creepy-crawly, one maybe a touch pudgy from packing on one too many maple leaves. (It’s like the waffle house of the critter world. How can you resist?) In the next moment, you’ve become some sort of angel bug with a serious psychedelic fashion sense. You’re one hippy headband and a few sips of nectar away from floating away on a rainbow.
But, what about the little section between caterpillar and butterfly? You know, the chrysalis phase where the actual transformation happens. Have you given much thought to that? Do you know what happens?
Do you remember puberty?
It’s bug puberty, dude, only twenty times more epic. The caterpillar begins to digest itself. Basically, the body of the caterpillar dies and tissues from certain organs remain and begin to sprout the pieces that eventually create the body of the butterfly. It’s a sack of goop and guts after a major maple leaf binge.
Butterflies are angelic, little zombie-caterpillars.
From the snot of life, we are bequeathed with the widely viewed symbol of transformation and beauty. Butterflies don’t play no games, playa. Consider for a second what it took to get there. They engage in a process that is ugly and demands the release of their own body to step into the next phase of life.
Think about it. If you could choose to continue to wriggle around and enjoy a few sugary leaf treats, would you bother going through such a process? Or, does the idea of spreading wings and flying sound more appealing? When you get there, is it really what it was all cracked up to be? And, when you get down to it, did that little hairball, multi-legged tube o’ buggliness actually want to change or does it simply follow the path that life presents to it?
We marvel at them and seldom think of what they actually had to let go of and what they had to go through. How many times have you heard some cliche phrase about becoming a butterfly but never take the time to see the beauty in the ugliness that went through that transition – the little jelly-ball that could, our caterpillar hero?
Yeah, change is more like that.
It involves a will to go through it and engage with the process of being generally effed up while you’re figuring it out. Wouldn’t it be nice to settle into the process knowingly and understand that you are in the middle of SOMETHING and seeking life purpose is part of life purpose? You hear it a lot in the new age hullabaloo that you’re doing exactly what you need to be doing by being right where you are.
It’s an unsatisfying phrase, “You are exactly where you need to be.” It’s both comforting and leaves you with a freakin’ migraine at the same time. Here!? In this goo of transition fighting to pay the bills and raise a family and feel like I’m sane at the same time. This the metaphorical chrysalis!? When do I get to be complete and soar off on my epic migrational butterfly love fest?
You don’t. This is the love fest. Start enjoying.
Expending the effort to change and grow is what is meant by being exactly where you need to be all the time. It’s not about the wild end result. You’ve heard the term being mindful, right? Living in the moment means you have to engage with what you perceive as the negative as well as the positive. You have to embrace the moment which is always adapting and changing.
Try not to linger on it, but consider that when it comes to change we all often become awkward teenagers all over again – cracked voices and blemishes, weird fashion trends and all. We find another iteration of that youthful evolution over and over again throughout life. It leads to filling a perceived hole in what we do and how we live. But, this IS part of living. The change is part of the experience. And, what an experience.
Juice cleanses and kundalini yoga take the place of acne cream and feathered bangs – these, our one-up factors in seeking meaning. We try to hollow ourselves out and open ourselves up. We try new things and hope they make us feel more whole. There are times we retreat in sadness and disappear. This is the crap they write novels and movies about. Those “awful” transitions are the parts of life we look back on and say they mattered. Aren’t you suppose to enjoy that madness?
So, where does the struggle come from?
You might be reading and think, “Ok, smartypants. If the journey all it’s about why do I feel so much resistance to moving forward or lack the fulfillment that I desire? Are you just telling me to settle and deal with what I have, you depressing pain the wazoo?”
Well, first, you’ve got some mouth on you there, sassy. And, second, in my experience as an intuitive, I’ve seen time and time again the reason that people struggle is a refusal to recognize themselves as the creator of their purpose in life, and instead, they attempt to fulfill that satisfaction by pursuing a thing – a job, an identity, and so on – without being mindful of why they are doing so.
Recently, I wrote about life purpose and moments of clarity and reflection. I ventured a bold statement that life purpose – as in what we do in life not the meaning of life – was about understanding who you are an expressing it. Without an understanding of who we are, all the things we pursue fall short of aligning with our own sense purpose. We’re marching but haven’t been listening to our inner compass.
Why do I want what I want? What makes me interested in the things I pursue? What parts of myself am I willing to dissolve by engaging in the work of my own chrysalis transformation? These are the questions we tend to forget to ask ourselves in the process of understanding who we are and our purpose in life. Worse yet, we ask them, but fail to find the perspective necessary to find that level of clarity.
So, what do you do?
It’s not always a question that’s easily answered. Know thyself. You think it would be simple, right? You’re you. You should know what you want and why. But, “you” is a complex vehicle full of history and an intricate connection to the entirety of the universe. It seems like a lot to figure out and that type of thinking comes with the risk of overcomplicating.
Simple is better.
I work with clients on the spiritual level that want to know what to do when they grow up – how they fulfill their purpose and find joy in what they do. It’s absolutely necessary to seek a broader understanding of self by pursuing knowledge of the big and wide, but it’s my opinion that spiritual seeking is often a means of reflecting on the self by viewing the world outside and understanding how we relate to it. It’s often important to clear the clutter to return to your roots and reflect on the patterns that have led you to where you are.
It’s finding that center that starts to direct you to a clear mind and heart and a better understanding of our greater connection with the universe. That means letting go of the noise and to once again steal from the metaphor of the butterfly, dissolve into your baser pieces to allow a new form to emerge and trusting in the sometimes painful process of rebirth.
You have to trust your core and your center. You have to belive that you are here for a reason. You have to know the necessary parts of yourself that will need to be tapped into. In silence, you have to listen and hear your own voice. When you find that voice isn’t clear, seek those that can help recognize it.
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The sky seemed slightly larger tonight – wider, broader, more peaceful. It was much like looking into clear water and suddenly being greeted by a vast world that had once been obscured beneath. The openness of this evening seemed to reveal many potential worlds that were faded behind the distractions hidden in the atmosphere – the pollutants and light and materials that come between us and the cosmos
It stood to reason that, in the same fashion water – still and free of impurity – can be looked straight through into once mirky depths, the distant stars could be viewed the same way. It did seem that the crisp, night air knew nothing of the noise and mess that exists closer to the muddy ground. The separation from the usual chaos makes your mind feel similar to the night air – free to dive deeply into places forgotten, unseen, waiting to be revisited, or conjured up. The clarity leaves one suddenly connected to the vast.
Further up, one could only imagine how far you could see. With only space between you and the enormity of the universe, the shining stars and galaxies, light from eons past, would brush against your very being and impart stories of their existence if your mind was quiet enough to listen.
Lost in the clouds? Lost in space, perhaps. Danger Will Robinson.
Back to earth. One can dream of the stories and marvel at the possibilities of the far and beyond, but what about here and now. This tiny rock all the mysteries on it. It’s actually vast enough all on its own. What is the point? Where does the purpose lie? And where is the self the “I” in all of that?
Many late nights have served as echoless sounding boards for the same question in various forms. Why am I here? What should I do with my life? What do I want to be when I grow up? (Do we ever really feel grown-up?) And many have patiently waited for that empty space to reply back. (More on that another time.)
It’s not uncommon to look up and the sky and search for answers far and away from where, perhaps, we can feel clarity for something away from the mess. But, it’s the mess itself the motivates us and gives purpose. True clarity comes from bringing the pieces together in the middle of the chaos to find order and then recognizing that order can be set aside and allowing truth to be felt and lived – letting it burn warmly with intention in our every moment.
How does one keep that in motion?
The conundrum happens when we crash downward from the wonder of all the COULD and find ourselves feeling small and inadequate or adversely large and powerful but uncertain and uncoordinated. Stagnancy comes in the form of dreaming too big or not dreaming enough. We settle for enough or our thirst for success can never be quenched.
As a result, we make plans deciding what we want to be when we grow up well into our 60’s. In the search, we forget to be present. The action doesn’t flow because we forget that living in line with our purpose isn’t about what we do for a living or the things we can accomplish, but instead, about understanding ourselves.
We have jobs and families and bills, so it’s natural that we look to purpose as if it's defined by the job and career we take. It’s about what we get done. All of it needs to flow into this big version of who we are but isn’t the opposite true. What we do is about us and who we are. The actions around that – the jobs and accomplishments – are simply another level of expressing the self.
Life purpose – the action of life – is an expression of self.
It’s the ultimate way of speaking our truth if you think about it. Though it may not be the reason for life it is very much the way in which we seek to engage with the shared reality around us. The driving, motivating force behind our accomplishments all come from the foundation of what makes this body, this lifetime, light up and shine. It comes from what makes our spirit sing.
That joyous song can be heard and felt in the simple moments as well as the grand ones. We can change tides or change diapers, move mountains or move furniture, but we find purpose when we are true to ourselves and honest with our ideas. It also lives in the midst of that mess we keep avoiding. That mess is the material of life and we give purpose to it, not the other way around.
While we may be caught in the light of the distant reaches of spaces, we too often forget about the light that we create. Somewhere far off in those reaches, another soul may be staring towards just that – your shining light and wondering how they could ever accomplish anything so grand.
What makes your light shine?
More aptly, how do you know what makes your light shine? It seems like an odd question, one that should already know, but it often leaves us lost and questioning. We’ll explore further next time.
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That dark place, cavelike, where we fall, lost in the disasters of life – is purely inspirational.
There’s little to do in there but fiddle with the shadowy shapes of your haunted reality to create forms that seem more in line with your true self and desperate attempts to appear rational. Look at the word. “In-spir-ational” – spirit is only partly there and it’s tied up in what you rationalize. (See what I did there? Clever right?)
Rock bottom is full of excuses, most of which point your judging finger of blame back at yourself. Self-blame is an excuse to not love yourself or come to terms with actions and find peace with actions that we “rationalized” ourselves into this sad space.
Panic and fear become our greatest enemies and our greatest allies because once you’ve bottomed out into that cold and lonely place – you either find the spark to crawl out or feel the loss of will to move at all. For you, dear reader, I hope for the former.
The darkness is no place to linger.
So, what is it then that guides us and helps us correct our path when we’re locked, shaking, and unable to budge from the false safety of motionless misery? In my last blog post, Spirit 911, we explored the idea that, in extreme moments where we break and nothing seems unimportant, we become an empty slate and suddenly a message, a guiding spirit seems fantastically real.
I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had moments weeping alone eyes turned upward to searching for a way, and yes, in those moments something came to my aid. The very description of a tangible “otherness” with messages of comfort is a very real depiction of sudden – albeit unstable and unsustainable – flashes of messages from the whooziwhatits-whicheverwhere that I’ve experienced.
It can be hardcore, guys. Super hardcore. But it’s, mostly, not.
Getting messages from spirit is more often calm and less intense. And, I use the broad and whatchamacallit verbiage intentionally because where we draw our sense of spirit is something we all define differently. It should be. You could call it your higher self, spirit guides, angels, God, or just the complex nature of human psychology and physiology.
(Psychology and physiology, by the way, are the most magical and esoteric, bizarre and philosophical part of spirituality than any wand, crystal, or tarot card I’ve ever seen. Straight up interdimensional, quantum, epigenetic magic. But, I digress.)
Whatever you call it is just a name. I have mine and I’ll share them if you ask. The point is less about what it is and more that you’re listening. You’re curious and searching for a way to be a part of this whole weird, little fiesta we call life in the most wonderful way that you can. Cause happiness is what we’re all after, right? No use saying otherwise.
We. Want. To. Be. Happy. Say it, mean it, believe it.
Of course, that means getting comfortable with being sad and a lot of other things that you should be talking to that guiding spirit about. You’ll find that when you get in touch with it that there’s no judgement (that’s you), there’s always common sense and positive action (that’s it), and there’s never defeated or inflated ego (that’s you). It’s a voice, thought, feeling, or knowing that speaks for your greatest good with love and the highest intentions for all of humanity.
Doesn’t that all feel good to read? Join me in a moment of touchy-feely light and love. It does. It feels good and I enjoy the feeling that the universe has my back if I let it. But, what the fuck do you do with that knowledge? (Pardon my French… Is that actually French? Saucy people, they are.)
This is where a lot of bullshit comes to light in the spiritual world.
It’s easy to get lost in the light and love of it all and the good feelings and warm and fuzzies and forget how we connect and how we take action. Because sometimes shit happens. It could be part of a plan, sure. Or, a mix of the chaos of free will, maybe. It could be just occurrences that happen because that how the ball got rolling. I find it’s usually a mix of many factors, but still, shit happens. What do we do? How do we know what a message is and what to do with it? So, here I am, telling you what the fuck to do. (I must be part French… Sorry, guys.)
How do you recognize a message from spirit from the clutter in your mind?
This is a big topic. One that I’ve spent years understanding and honing. It’s why I do it professionally. (I’m totes professional, ya’ll, as you can tell from my grasp on the French language.) But, being professional isn’t for everyone. What is for everyone is the solace that if you take the time to listen for guidance you’ll find more happiness. That doesn’t take anything but you and your time and your effort. It’s a pretty sweet deal, guys, and the universe kinda just handed that to us.
Let’s take advantage of that gift.
To start with, you have to begin recognizing your ego. Now, we often think of ego as the cocky and pompous version of ourselves. But, it is also the self-doubting and self-defeating version. Ego is the falseness of self. It is the distilled essence of B.S. that we surround ourself with to define what we think we are instead of what we are. It is the side of our self that chooses to deny personal love and joy instead to seek an unrealistic reality where we “need” to be.
That ego is the voice you need to watch out for when you feel a sign from spirit. Why? Because it chews up a message that says be at peace with abundance and turns it into, “Stack up dollah bills, playah.”
It’s not that there’s anything wrong with fat stacks. It’s just that the desperation or fear or greed shouldn’t be a driving force. Because a message from spirit feels right. You welcome abundance and pay yourself the respect of receiving it gracefully instead of angrily seeking it with insistence against what your heart really speaks. You can seek what you need with a drive, passion, and fierce intensity in line with spirit and the best for yourself and all involved or roughly take what you want. See the difference?
Ask yourself are you receiving a sign from spirit or are you creating one?
This method works across all manners of scenarios – finance, family, love, and life in general. Are you forcing a reality or being receptive to the opportunities that reality presents? That means taking the time to start knowing your ego and what creates it. It means reflecting and taking the time to listen and hear your thoughts. Which ones are self-defeating? Which ones feel like that come from old patterns? Is there another feeling that you get that isn’t just hopeful but feels valid and right?
How do you get in touch with that?
Clear through the noise by listening to the noise. That means you have to listen to yourself. Take a quiet moment while driving or walking any such repetitive quiet action and listen to yourself think. Recognize your ego acknowledge and release the noise it makes, In the quiet, something different waits.
Day is greeted by the harshness of my clock. The beep-beeping that sounds to the start of each day, shifts my head into gear, and starts lists and to-do's as I find my bare feet shuffling, padding along the floor of my home. As usual, the day starts with a cry of movement and the noise generated from that widens, broader and broader like a drumbeat hammering out the ever-increasing tempo of each moment. The boom syncopates into many and the well-timed beats fall into a din a disarray of sound following me wherever I go.
Just keep moving.
It's all a blur – impossible to take in – as if my eyes cannot adjust well enough to make sense of the constant hustle of motion everywhere I turn. I’m in constant flux. My mind adapting to a thousand different stimuli. And, yet, a thought off in the periphery of my mind. Something... What was it? Nothing. Shut up. Forget it. Back to moving. Back to work. Back to noise. Lunch. Did I eat? Wait... yes, that sandwich. The clock is ticking toward five. My mind is ticking itself to the abyss.
Just keep going.
A moment and I'm driving then off the next thing, appointment, place, person, whatever. The din has risen to a volcanic boom and ash is all that fills my eyes – one motion to the next to the next to the next. The malaise creates a haze of numbness. And I stop feeling. That’s better. Isn’t it? Not feeling means I can manage. Who cares? It’s not like anyone notices. Success doesn’t waste time on feeling.
Just stop caring.
Behind the wheel again, the clenching of my jaw leaves my musculature knit into a finely meshed wire sack, and I slowly open and close my teeth for relief. And all at once I'm in the driveway – home – if you can call it that. How did I get here? When? The door of the car swings open as I find my feet falling much more heavily as I make my way through the front door. Inside, I breathed. Had I done that today? I must have. I'm still standing. I think that needs air, doesn't it?
Just keep standing.
Microwave. Scarfed food. Television. Facebook. All squished together in the few moments that I pretend that I’m catching my breath. Huh? Dressed for bed? Apparently, I had done that, too, and found myself tucked neatly between my bedsheets.
Just rest. Just rest. Just rest.
Then, all at once, it hits me. The sound I avoid every evening, the deadening quiet. It could go on forever until the tiny sounds try to fill in the widening sense of pressure. My heartbeat. My breath. They fill my ears as the last bit of light slinks away below the horizon and I become wrapped in the dark yet silvery embrace of the night.
No moving, no going, no standing.
All there was to listen to now was that little indiscernible sound of the inside of my head. Then, another small noise as a choked gasp and I recognized soft droplets of tears forming in my eyes.
Stop feeling. I can’t. Stop feeling. I can’t. I can't stop feeling.
The gasp builds into a shuddered wail from somewhere deep within. I silenced it – swallowing the feeling into submission where I no longer had to listen. Soundless as it was, I heard and felt it in my entire being. My body a rock of dense nothingness, and my eye stared blanking as if dead already. Wouldn't that be nice? It is in the noise of my sorrow that another sound in my head grows louder.
But it is different.
It encourages me. It whispers to me about what is possible. It tells me what I can do. It tells me I am worthy of love. It tells me all the things I should listen to and refuse to believe. I find myself in argument, preferring to wrap myself in the cold despondence of despair. I’m more comfortable there. That’s where I belong, after all.
“No, you don’t.”
It’s almost forceful, this thought, as if it is not of me not my own thought but from another source. I want to cry. So, I do. It is long and cold and ugly. Each tear sheds away a dream I’d lost and hope I’d never have and the silent death of a life that I wanted so badly. But, told myself I wasn’t worth having.
I startle at the sense of warmth.
It’s not me. I know it’s not because I try again to argue. Pulling out every tactic from the toy-box of my five-year-old self to throw the adult equivalent of a tantrum – trying to have it “my way” even if it means misery. I am in charge. And, I choose to be miserable.
“Yes, you’re in charge.”
I almost hear it this time. And for the first time, the room fell truly silent. I feel something nearby – offering comfort. It’s right there. I look in the direction and see a faint outline almost like when I see people against the white walls in the conference room. They call them auras, but I never really subscribed to that bullshit. I have real stuff to worry about.
Real stuff? This is real. Maybe I was full of bullshit, and this is real.
I can’t help it now. My need to reach out overcomes every sense of hesitation. “I’m in charge? But, what do I do?” I am finally ready to hear answers to seek refuge instead of hide in a sea of my sorrows. The conversation is long. It is all positive. It is all simple. It is a doable. It was there all along. This time I was listening to something that told me to love myself and leave behind the self-pity and self-defeat. It told me to assume that that I could and laugh at what I thought were mistakes.
That, dear readers, is an intense 911 call from your spiritual council. It comes in different forms for all of us, and often, is quieter as it hums in the background. Stay tuned for next week’s blog to understand what connection to spirit is like in daily life and how to recognize it from the chatter in your own mind.
Thanks for reading
It’s often I'm asked the point of seeking a connection with the spiritual and the reason to practice being intuitive. I ask myself the same question on a regular basis. What benefit does it really have in your life to ponder and manifest or learn about energy and chakras and spirit guides or whatever calls to you?
Really. What the eff is the point? How much of it is nonsense and how much is real and what does it matter? Is being lost in the clouds just being lost, and when you find the reality beyond the fanciful thinking, what do you do?
Being in touch or connected with what is “more” than ourselves, is essentially what is meant when I say intuitive. In the practice of expanding to it and opening to the experience, it becomes apparent how interconnected we really are. With an open heart (chakra) we can put that connection into a living motion.
It’s easy to sit on a spiritual cloud and meditate or namaste or whatever. Sitting alone in the quiet of your personal and well-defined sacred place with your favorite objects that make you feel at peace. Lost in a quiet room filled what you deem magically refined – tarot cards, statues, or crystals. What a place to forget the troubles of the world.
It’s quite another thing to take those same things out into the messy space where we all have to learn to “get along.” How do you float on a cloud when your boss has you on a deadline? Where’s your namaste when you step on that stray lego you told the kids to pick up… or else…? What lousy purpose does being intuitively connected help there?
Should you have “known” about the lego or felt the emotions of your boss and acted accordingly? Should you have gone more with the flow so none of it seemed to matter? That’s looking for perfection – the illusion of perfection – not reality. So, how magical do you have to be to bring spiritual thinking into reality?
It isn’t and shouldn’t be complicated.
I usually have a few crystals and stones floating around in my pocket. Not always, but mostly. I don't tend to work with crystals, but I like having them around as little reminders or because I just enjoy their presence. They make me smile.
I have a slight problem. I keep running into people that just "need a certain stone" and end up giving away ones to someone that needs a positive reminder, themselves. I've given out enough rose quartz that my friend – an owner of a crystal shop – offered to just sell me a batch at wholesale... I’ve just ordered some. I'm your local crystal dealer. (First one's free. Well... all of them are, actually.)
A found someone that has been going through a difficult patch, and though not particularly spiritual, she shared with me that she finds comfort in a "big stone" that she describes as very grounding to hold. She had a bad day, and we laughed that she needed her "stone baby" to hold when my hand found the palm-sized piece of selenite in my pocket and before I knew it, I had passed it on to her.
I stopped into a shop and picked up a piece of tourmaline. I wanted to keep it, but I knew it wasn't meant for me. Later that evening, I wandered into an opening of a business that is building a new Himalayan Salt Cave and has an Amethyst relaxation room. It was a really crystal-filled day – full of conversations and connection because of that interest.
Talking later about my happy-hippie moment in the "salt mines" and finally pulling out my little bag of crystals – rose quartz, clear quartz, and tourmaline – hidden in my pocket feeling the intuitive hit to let my woo-woo flag fly (slightly) free.
My friend – the one I gave the selenite – eyeballed the tourmaline. I figured... Literally not figuratively, “knew” that she’d like it. I bought it knowing she’d want it, and it has a new home.
I was sharing some of this story and realized with a deep sense of "aww crap" that I'm going to become THAT strange, goofy old man who gives away crystals and assures that they'll help you feel better. I was quickly corrected. I won't become that guy. I am already. I am THAT guy. (I ordered the rose quartz shortly afterward.)
As I think about it, though, I find a lot of joy in the idea of being “that guy.” Even if no one realizes what it means to me. No one I talk to needs to know that I can recite the qualities of the stones and crystals, and my friend didn't need to hear that selenite was a perfect fit for her excess mind chatter (empathically noticed), and her tourmaline stood out to me as because I just knew it would be at the store even though they were out just the day before. And, that I thought I might find one with the correct weight and portability which I figured it would help her situation. And the perfect (I mean perfect) piece and the correct pocket change was there in one concise mini-synchronicity.
No one needs to know that (I believe) I do such things because I'm wildly cancerian and love to care for the people very grandmother-like. They don't need to believe or know anything other than that I care, nor does what I believe need to be true – even if I choose to follow that thinking. I "know" I don't need to shove my mystical mumbo jumbo on anyone, but it's always nice to remember that it doesn't need to be understood to be shared with a general sense of fun. And you know what? It feels good. Really good.
I wasn't bearing my soul. Or getting touchy-feely and vulnerable. I was just having fun with my silly pocket rocks.
That is spiritual.
I followed a few little intuitions and actively let it creep into the land of muggles only to find – as I usually do – that there are fewer muggles out there than we think there are. There are a lot of folks that want to be or already are spiritual, ya’ll.
Anyone can pick up a pretty stone, pass it on, and tell someone to have a better day. Anyone can listen. We all have our own practices whether we call it magical or not. Being in touch with a deeper connection isn’t just about sharing beliefs or forcing them on others. It is about practicing the connections and following the hints from the universe to take action.
And, then, calling upon our free will we can answer that call or choose another.
It’s a beautiful world out there. And being spiritual shouldn’t even be called spiritual. It’s as natural as breathing. It’s a practice in curiosity and a method of opening up to the human experience. It is sharing the spirit of joy and the solemn nature of our sadness. It’s a whole lot more that can barely be described here.
It is not, however, passive.
So perhaps today find yourself a pretty stone, and let it make you smile. Take it as a gift from this earth, and if an intuition leads you into a conversation, let yourself be seen, really seen – crazy rocks and all.
Often lately, when I think of the sense of self, I'm reminded, instead, not to think about “me” or “I,” and return my thoughts turn to a vision of a flow of light and lines and pushes and pulls between what is considered my body and the things around me. The feeling of being confined inside my head starts to drift off, and as often in meditation, I feel an expansion, as if I am part of much more while still being separate.
It’s a concept I like to toy with and explore. And one that is valuable in when practicing Thinking less like am the little pile of bones and muscle and blubber (Oh, too much blubber…) that comprises my body, nor am I the energy or feelings or even soul that resides within that body. Instead, I am lost in nowhere just part of the reactions – the play between these little lines that connect “me” to all other things.
I enjoy my logical mind because it gives me the play to ponder these things and consider them carefully question their meaning. But, with that very necessary logical mind, there is thinking and thought - actions created by reactions, and it is clear that this not where intuition (universal connection) lies. There is a very different moment just outside of logic that happens clearly and precisely lacking name or form. A spring of insight. It comes from emptiness and needs to be given form to interpret.
The mind then turns to interpret with words, colors, sounds, smells, feelings and all the different worldly senses that give rise to the “clairs” – clairvoyance, claircognizance, clairaudience, and so on. In this respect, all senses including “clairs” are illusions - necessary illusions to define our interactions with the world around us. How very Zen. But not very helpful, honestly, because what do you do with that?
Again, it’s one thing to use logic and try to math and science your way to answers, but weren’t the answers there just before you started thinking about them? A clear intuition comes without need for explanation. It happens feels real and you respond, without getting in your own way. There was a very wise man once. He created landscapes and forms from nothing but paint, brush, and canvas. With a few sweeping gestures – a mountain, a lake, some happy little trees, and happy little mistakes. Mistakes that weren’t mistakes at all. His mantra was so perfect in the philosophy behind the worlds he created, “Just let it happen, just let it happen.” Good ol’ Bob Ross.
I joke. But, think of the parallel with him and other creators. They gave form to something from nothing. So, isn’t nothing or void or emptiness or whatever words you use to describe it where I draw that feeling of certainty in the guidance I seek for myself and others? The clairvoyance, clairaudience, claircognizance – don’t they just interpret that in the “real?”
Where am "I" in all of that? So many have felt it, right? That moment without moment when suddenly the feeling of self dissipates and you almost echo and become wider, part of a whole. It’s a big feeling, until I say, “I am big.” You've then given words to it, a shape and form and shrink back to the size of you leaving a shivering dust speck full of doubt over what just moments ago felt natural and right and without obstacle. The vastness felt seconds before seems so expansive all I can say is, “I am little.”
It’s here intuition gets stuck. “I am.” I am big. I am little. I am worthy. I am worthless. I am right. I am wrong. I am.
I think it’s quite a lesson to draw from that I am at my clearest when I am “not.” Nothing is broken, and nothing needs to be fixed. But, I don’t think that means that “I” isn’t there. There’s just a better definition of it when I let go. I can just settle into “I” and live effortlessly in between the bigs and the littles. Then, in the immortal words of Bob Ross, “Just let it happen.” Then, when I need to hear something, it will be heard. When I need to say something, it'll be said. Wouldn't that be so simple just letting it happen? Isn't that the essence of what is sought by growing intuition?
Maybe Ross had some intuition hidden under that fro of his. Are there any mediums in the house?
It's one of those moments of quiet. The world drifts off – seemly out and away – felt, instead, in the distance as if held at bay by some dense magnetic pressure on the edge of the space you occupy. A memory of the day passing and a pause between tomorrow. A tiny reality of your own – almost as if you’ve stolen a piece of the fabric of time and space. The noise from out there settles away, and in your private patch, the noise within you begins to form.
Reaching for the nearest chore, there’s a feeling of responsibility to become occupied. The piles of laundry call. Folding is to be done, socks to be sorted, and shirts to be hung. Usually, you’d heave a heavy sigh of irritation and turn on the television, but... you’re relaxed. Without mental resistance the motion feels welcome. It feels right. Being occupied doesn’t seem occupying. The hands know the work and the mind is left to drift back to its own noise.
But. It is unusually silent.
There’s the hum of motion as objects are tidied up and put away and flowing from one task to another you find yourself over a pile of dishes that you’ve cleaned while you were percolating in the newly found stillness inside your head. There’s a faint memory of doing them, but like everything right now, thoughts fly in and out of your mind. You finish up because your friend will be calling in a moment.
Without really considering it, you’ve settled your tasks and found yourself seated when the phone buzzes in your pocket. She’s calling about her boyfriend. Pulling it out to answer, you stop and see her name. You answer to hear an almost instant verbal rant about said boyfriend. And you have a realization.
You had no reason to know she’d be calling. You had no reason to know she’d talk about her boyfriend. She hasn’t in ages.
Finishing the conversation, there’s a short mental check. No. There is no reason I should have known that. How? Going back through the evening, you remember having this great conversation in your head about your career and what you should do, and then you were just “sure” she’d be calling. And then, holy shit. She did.
How about that...? There must be some explanation, and dismissively, you forget about it and the great “ideas” about your career and go about staring annoyed at the rest of the chores. The bubble is gone and the outside world has creeped in once again.
There are stories left and right like that in the world, and if you’ve had a single one, you’ve stumbled into the mindset of an intuitive or psychic or whatever malarkey they want to call us these days. (I prefer not to have a name for it, but what’s an intuitive to do?) Most people ignore it. Or, reluctantly share with a friend or two. A few shout “MAGIC!” from the rooftops and then have no idea what to do with it. Those were messages. Who knows where some could have led? But, what do you with that? And how do you know if it’s right?
Me? Well, I’ve had to deal with that mamma-jamma all my life – knowing when phone calls were coming, knowing unusually personal things about people, or sensing the life suddenly leaving a body. And weirder stuff yet. But, another day for those stories. So, when I tell this story, I know pretty much what happened and more or less how to tap into it. In fact, I do it for people all the time, and have my whole life.
So what WAS that all about?
And, yes, this is something that happened to me quite often. (Sometimes associated with girls calling that I liked as a teenager...) I would often have incredible conversations that would come from “somewhere else” and they’d guide me to solutions. I mean, I used to figure out MATH that way in school. IT’S NOT CHEATING, I SWEAR. (I’m sure Albert Einstein was an intuitive.)
I joke a little, and for good reason. You need that to find the ease to use this talent in a natural way – as natural as breathing. But, you’re probably wanting me to get to the point. Listen. You don’t have to be “psychic” or “magical” or anything special to learn to follow your inner voice and outer intuitive “line” to the cosmic messages we all receive constantly. It’s not huge and unattainable. It’s commonplace.
All it takes is to create the open space in you to invite those messages, the ease to let them flow, and then the trust to act with peace in your heart and mind. If you do those things, you’re following your natural connection to the big and the wide as well as the tiny and infinitesimal. You’re following the guidance to live as one with humanity and in line with joy and in touch with the sacred nature of sadness. You are in touch with living and living fully. You become an active part of life as opposed to an observer or one who endures of it.
It is an open feeling being there. Beautiful and simple and full of peace. Even when events around us are trying it is THROUGH trying the we persevere. It is through our intuitive selves that we allow the insights to create motion as if each second matters and take control of letting go and being in the midst of this wonderful experience.
Try this. Follow the process above. Relax. Make your hands busy with something repetitive. And let your thoughts come and go. Don’t force. Then just allow things to happen. Start asking yourself questions then wait and expect a response. You may actually be having a conversation, but more on that later.
So, here, is a mission statement. It is through an open heart that I’ve started a journey of sharing and speaking about the not-so-mystical but magical part of being an intuitive, being spiritual, and being really freakin’ ordinary at the same time. (I keep a logical, scientific mind about all this mumbo jumbo.) And this is the open invitation to all others.
Be curious. Be at ease. And trust. There may be a touch of a skeptic in all of us, even me. But it is with our wonder, that we collectively tap into a wisdom and way that we can create. And, I believe, it starts with spirit, and we hear sprit through that empty space that I call our intuition.
Light and Love,
Adam Weston Albert