Ride Away, Ride the Wave

intuition, Small Miracles, Soul heartedly

I woke up in a fog– a fog of overthinking something I have overthought for such a vast time period that for most would seem unnecessary. For me, it’s always dwelling on the intense original life purpose I have energetically paved for myself to the extremity of falling into a black hole after the of not taking action upon my own intuition in perfect timing last year. It’s had many pitfalls, and has become my best method of self-sabotage. For the past two years, I haven’t been able to discern whether I’ve been grieving my self-proclaimed life purpose, a person, or an idea of a person. Having conversed with Spirit in writing the night before, I asked for guidance into a more positive current situation that would bring about clarity. Perhaps rather something more along the flow of the current that would get me out of my head.

I had almost forgotten about that intention when I headed out to Natural Grocers in search of a yoga mat and some fruit. My yoga mat was a torn-out disaster, and I really needed to do some yoga. I had the fortune of running into a friend who told me she’d give me a new yoga mat for free… which, of course, was a divine opportunity I couldn’t easily pass up. When I got in line, I noticed that a friend I knew from yoga and repeatedly crossing paths –for the past nine or so months– was behind me. I told her about my recent dog-sitting gig, to which she responded,

“I could use you for dog sitting, because I’m going to Mexico to swim in some cénotes and maybe find some traditional healers to talk with,” she paused in optimistic contemplation, “Unless you want to come with me.”

So despite the wildly painful overthinking that has been my habit for so long, I booked the ticket to Cancún the next day with little hesitation. I tried to ignore the slight anxieties I held about losing possessions during flights to foreign countries, and just trust that it would be a good, smooth experience. As it would happen, we were both sending intentions of a smooth trip into our journey while conversing with angels, and so that’s exactly how it transpired.

I packed very few possessions with me; the bare minimum of clothes that would get me through the four days of our journey. I began to become aware of the pattern of following my breath, and really breathing. I’d recently come to the awareness that I hadn’t actually been doing this… and that this has been the main source of obstacles that I have experienced throughout life. Taking away months and years of true fulfillment. In order to regain this lost sense of self, I was going to need to actually start breathing from the depths of my heart and soul… and it isn’t easy, because this brings up various instances in which I must, time after time, come to terms with my Truth and how that truth is working out in this lifetime. I was coming to know that Life listened to me so long as I was nurturing my own Spirit with breath.

We sat in the airport eating fruit and drinking coffee at five a.m., having a spiritually fulfilling conversation. I was so grateful and amazed that of all people, having planned this less than a month in advance, I would be joining Sadie on the venture to Valladolid and Tulúm, Yucatan, Mexico. It’s only been a destined prophecy for me to return to this sacred, ancient land which feels so much like a second home to me since visiting a traditional Mayan village a few years ago on a college study abroad for six weeks.  In this study abroad course, I apprenticed with a Mayan herbalist and also gathered data from multiple other shamans on the Peninsula. My project at the time seemed so extensive that I knew eventually I’d have to come back to further my passion of studying and practicing plant medicine. Jungle plants are really the most intriguing of all medicines.

When I found my seat in the airplane, my seatmate was getting up to switch seats with another woman. The woman who sat down next to me in the center seat was relatively familiar looking, and we instantly connected. She was also a blogger and began telling me the themes of the entries on her blog… which were all coincidentally in alignment with my recent experiences and current process of life. The one she explained most in detail was the one on grief– not necessarily the death of a person, but rather the death of an idea of some significant life purpose one may have an attachment to, so now must find an alternative life purpose. Our next seatmate who entered was tall, gangly and handsome and he was also a blogger. We told our stories of synchronicity and unity, finding meaning beyond coincidence in human interactions. Our conversation was loud and bright, overcasting all other sleeping passengers on flight 71. When we were served plastic cups of water, I made a toast to synchronicity.

The familiar yet exotic aura of Valladolid was comforting and enticing as Sadie and I entered it in the rental car. Even the scent of this traditional Mayan city warmed my heart and comforted my soul. We navigated the series of one-way roads towards the hotel, which was a magical cove of jungle plants and antique brick walls painted in ancient Mayan-Mexican styles. Shortly after arriving, we walked the village streets towards downtown, asking for directions from other visitors in Spanish. However, we quickly noticed that those visitors were the only other tourists to be seen.

To be among the Valladolid villagers and immersed in this culture with Yucatecan aromas steaming from every other door we walked past is a beautiful thing. To take in this culture fully without the extra perceptions of any other foreigner is to take it in clearly in a new sense that nobody has yet discovered. Like first impressions: to be looked upon for the first time without hindrance of a third party is to see clearly. To smell clearly, and to think clearly.

An exuberant energy vibrated from every carefree child and into the air of the Plaza, which reflected any other Yucatecan Plaza with their historic fountain centerpieces and white-stone loveseats along the edges; tall shadowy trees, and the enchanting sound of the Spanish and Mayan languages escalating in laughter. We ate at a traditional Yucatecan open-air restaurant with neon colored lights penetrating the dark evening air. In any Yucatecan meal, I most look forward to the homemade cornflour tortillas hopefully cooked on limestone (“kal”), and so was delighted to have an entire stack of them sitting in front of me covered in a creatively patterned hand-woven basket.

After sleeping in a beautiful silky hammock which I swore somehow changed colors from yellow to pink overnight, I awoke to roosters reminding me of the sacredness and the calm of which I was simply a part of being in this foreign land. Breakfast was the finest and simplest of foods: fresh fruit and fresh bread with local coffee, black.

We walked around town for a few minutes in the morning sunshine upon which everything seemed to dazzle and everyone seemed to be so content, so simple. Though work for the artisans daily in their shops is not so simple as they would have it seem, each shop owner at every storefront was beaming a smile of welcome. There were women setting up a market on the sidewalk full of vivid vegetables and fruits; the girl offered me half an orange which I gratefully savored. Sharing flavors of the culture.

We set out in search of some cénotes after collecting some directions from the hotel on which ones might be best. Tunneling down the roads outlined with jungle trees was such a restoration to the soul… bringing greenery and refinement to all its hidden aspects, as jungles of Mexico always have a tendency to do. Descending down the steps into the cave, it was a cool and mystic atmosphere. We were the only two swimmers in the large cenote, granting us freedom for spiritual and physical healing in the magical, deep waters. Catfish occasionally could be spotted. Birds fluttered in and out of crevices within the stone walls. I spent time floating, reflecting in one specific pool illuminated by strong rays of sunlight, making visible the depth of the cenote. I asked for a clear answer, and as I emerged out into the hotness and newfound clarity of the day, a multitude of butterflies in varieties of different colors fluttered around my face.

There is only one other natural resource, in my opinion, that has more healing power than a cenote– and that is the Ocean. Before arriving in Tulum, we made a stop at the ruins in Coba. I was reminded of my song I started writing, in Spanish, the last time I had been in Yucatan. We sat on a log and connected with the roots of this land, the ancient mysticism of the Mayans and secrets of the Sun which they held. I purchased a hand-woven dreamcatcher with an owl woven within the center. Just being present here, I could sense the humidity of the Ocean and the mysteries of the Mayans pulling me in further to their homeland.

As we drove into the village of Tulum with the windows rolled down, the air was vibrant with exuberance and joy that only a special place such as this would exhibit– something particularly magical about the warm, clear waters of this coast. We settled into the cabana loft with shimmering dark wooden floors. Next, we walked through the village radiating with love and humidity, a shimmering happiness that could only be found on a coast such as this one… the street signs displayed messages in segments: “If not now…” “When?” Though it was a touristy atmosphere, everyone seemed perfectly content. Exiting the car, we made our way to the beach and walked on the sand to the cabana loft.

I pulled out a book to read on the beach for the first night, but soon couldn’t contain the urge to run along the coast. I started out running, inhaling deeply the warm, humid, salty air. This was my first trip to the beach in nine years, and to be near the water felt so liberating to the soul. I paused occasionally to step into the water and allow the waves to wash over me, cleansing my heart and mind. I sent out healing intentions through the palms of my hand, directed into the ocean to be washed up on every other shore in all directions. I ran all the way to the opposite side of the coast, to which I couldn’t count the number of miles and instead was only blinded by the sunshine shimmering across my skin. I observed all the people who were laying out along the beach, soaking in the vastness of this sea and sky.

The full moon on the last night was radiant and shone upon the dark waves of ocean. Along with the sound of a wedding DJ playing rock ‘n’ roll tunes and the aromas of the finest seafood in the near distance, the atmosphere was magical and inspirational. The intentions I had cast were now pouring into my own being and radiating along the atmosphere of all other beings. I was absorbing the beauty and magic of this land as it was absorbing me. This was the most peaceful setting on such a full moon… one in which I could remember myself and forget all other false perceptions, especially while swinging on a wooden swing overlooking the ocean.

I was carried back from this ancient, tropical land with a state of clarity and renewal; a sense of strength obtained from the ocean. My normally constricted nasal passages were suddenly clear, and I could breathe life in to such a greater state of fullness. I stared out into the morning waves of the ocean for awhile before departure. I awaited the newer, much clearer state of living that I was about to enter upon returning to the Colorado snow. I remember striking up conversation with two elderly passengers who resembled family members of mine on the shuttle back from the airport. We talked about living in the area and found we had some mutual connections in the music community and also commonalities in areas of living. The energy upon arrival was evident that life was changing for us in positive ways– big ways.

I reminisced about the sun and the people I encountered during this journey, and would reflect on bringing that energy into the everchanging, sometimes terrifying, uncertainties in my life to move forward with, despite the “grief” of my missing piece of my life purpose that I somehow felt motivated to restore… no matter the cost. I am an octopus with multiple paths in front of me out of not simply seeing the way out of my own dark hole I’ve been digging. Valladolid and Tulum were quick sources to the light of connection and simplicity of living. Who else knows one to be afraid of living large? Is it the fear of uncertainty we are dealt with, or the fear of being free and bold?

 

 

 

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Becoming the Stream

Soul heartedly

If you’re afraid, do not fear. You are not alone.

Everyone’s afraid of something. Everyone’s afraid of words. Everyone’s afraid of love. Everyone’s afraid of success. Everyone’s afraid of truth. Everyone’s afraid of rejection. Everyone’s afraid to dream. (Well, maybe not everyone is afraid to dream, although it is a terrifying concept). And it’s really hard to keep moving forward pursuing your deeepest desires when we dwell within such a fearful mindset. It’s really easy to “go with the flow” and try to forget about your fears and remain in a place of stagnancy, stuck on a stone in the river with water cascading past you, without you.

And there you remain plastered to an ancient, cold, lonely stone… growing mold and trying to tell yourself you’re at peace with your mind and your heart. Well, this is a great place to be. Sometimes it’s the only place to be, because moving forward with or without the fear might disrupt your comfort zone and cause so much anxiety that you could die. You don’t consider the option that you could become the stream, that you are the stream and always have been the stream.

Be aware. Be aware that anxiety is not your own– that possibly anxiety exists in everyone because we are all human (except a select few coming from distant galaxies reincarnated in human form, of course– but even they have to learn to overcome fear), and this is the reason we’re all in a lonely place of fear and rejection and not extending our power into the Earthy realms nor the ether! And perhaps our personal fears are reflected into worldly fears (politics, weather, wars, etc)…

However, this is not a story in which words are the answer. This is a story of acceptance and understanding that if you feel you’ve done all you can do, maybe you have. Then ask yourself, is this something you can really live without? Is this something you CAN find in another form? If the answer to either of these is yes, then leave the situation behind to be recycled into something even better.

Sometimes we don’t overcome our fears in time, but this is only because we must learn from our fears. We must recognize the growth process around such fears, bringing us into a new state of confidence and courage. From this place, we CAN move forward and overcome anything we want to overcome in order to be wherever, whoever we want to be. The good thing is that if we don’t die of our anxieties, whether we face our fears or not, we are inevitably guided towards a better place in our lives to which eventually, fear of a certain situation will literally evaporate and we will have a magical revelation of the truth.

Sometimes there are mistakes we make, and sometimes we talk ourselves into the extreme of saying, “There are no mistakes so I must be in the right place at the right time, and I must be doing the right thing by following my fears instead of leaping outside my corner of the forest and into the vast ocean of bravery and freedom.

This is also a story of utilizing our innate powers of intuition and following the signs that lead us on, even if we are rejected, even if we don’t receive the outcome we desire. Because the signs are only trying to push us outside our comfort zones and teach us that it is possible to do something we never thought we’d be bold enough to do, because it “just isn’t who we are” to be brave or to be courageous or to act out of love for acknowledgement of self.

We DO have the authority and the capability to take actions towards our truths because we are more than our fears. Even if something we believe in doesn’t matter to anyone else, we must still believe in it because it matters to us. And we have helpers to help us along the way.

Some things you might try to overcome anxieties and begin living your new, fearless, courageous, beautiful life:

  1. Forgive yourself and express gratitude towards those who have hurt you.
  2. Learn about Flower Essences. These can create shifts in something specific you may be overwhelmed with. Flower spirits are close allies.
    1. Red Chestnut~ allows you to love without fear and recognize how your fear affects not only you, but others. (When I began taking this, I was overcome with a sudden slap in the face of how extremely I was causing a disturbance of natural factors by telling myself I was too afraid. After freaking out for a bit, I was sent into a state of clarity and realization of the steps I needed to take to move forward.)
    2. Willow~ denotes some of the anxiety you might feel when it is difficult to move forward.
    3. Mimulus~ an aid in encouragement which pushes you to do things you feel otherwise might be impossible.
  3. Drink more water. Dehydration may be one factor of irrational fears, or so I’ve been guided to say.
  4. Soak in a hot springs as often as possible, or take salt/mineral infused baths.
  5. Omega-3 supplements
  6. Vitamin D + SUN to brighten your perspective
  7. Earthing- aka allowing the Earth to absorb your worries as you lay on the ground or walk barefoot
  8. Trust the process.
  9. EFT Tapping.

Still, you must know that you are strong enough to speak the truth of your heart to others, to do what you believe in, to stand up for yourself– to express yourself in any necessary way– in exactly the condition you are. You have the power and the right to do these things despite your fears, anxieties, sinus problems that cause speech problems, dialect, accent, mental fog… despite your insecurities, the perception that you’re overweight, that your face is too red or too dry to talk to anyone today, despite your chronic sinus congestion, your oily hair, the fact that your feet hurt, that you don’t feel free because you’re deprived of the sun… despite your age, the color of your hair, your height, and any other weaknesses.

You still have the right to do whatever you want, wherever you are and however are you currently, because nobody requires you to be perfect. We all know that when we have a seemingly perfect day, we can count on something to go wrong the next. Yet we find beauty in it. We find a way to move forward and believe in ourselves because we matter. We are matter, after all, and nothing is out of place. We have our own beliefs and ideas for a reason. All we have to know is how to trust the process.

® Camille Garcia, 2017

We ARE the Missing Threads

Soul heartedly

If anyone has ever told you, “In order to be loved, you must first love yourself…” and left it at that, I want you to recognize that this is a very dangerous and melancholy mindset to dwell within. What does it mean to love yourself fully, and how is it humanly possible to grow into a space of self love if you believe that you are unable to receive love from others if you don’t even know what it means to love yourself? I want you to know that it is extremely difficult to feel isolated in the world, cut off from support for fear that you are being judged for your imperfections, which represent proof that you don’t fully love yourself (right)?

Love is not something we can do alone. We are all the missing threads that complete one another, and if we become so absorbed within our own heads that we become blind to the outside beauty and numb to the outside energy that is yet a vital part to our being. So if anyone has ever told you this, they are probably not lonely only children and have never truly been in a place of extreme isolation and desolation. And yes, both of these things are only illusions… but they can become so real in the physical world if we truly believe we have to conceal our love within ourselves, solely.

Love has to be reflected, whether it is in the eyes, in energy, in clear lakes, in the stars. We have to realize that we’re part of all of that. I have learned that others’ perception of selfish love leads one down a desolate path plagued by ego. The egotistic mindset haunts you, whispering all your imperfections and insecurities to you through the gusty wind.

What we must learn to do is expand our minds to the external beauty and cultures and how this is a total reflection of us. What we see in the eyes of others: the anger, the beauty, the cosmic illumination, the ever-changing colors, sparkling blue oceans, intimidating red hues as real as the core of Planet Earth– these are all reflections of what we have within us. And we have to learn that these are all safe qualities. We have to learn that living life to the fullest means making mistakes and consciously not following rules staked down in our paths. That we cannot exist for ourselves, because without knowing others and without knowing the world and the outer worlds, we have no way of understanding ourselves in the least bit.

Because if we release the anxieties of our personal lives and expand our minds even further into the Universe, we might realize we are an essential part of all of it. That the Universe exists in all of us, and for us. And the we exist for the Universe, that we are the Universe. We are whatever we want to believe. We have more power than we think. And yet we think too much.

Most importantly, we must realize that there is a multitude of magical beings desperately hinting their love and attraction towards us, frustrated that we still don’t recognize that within ourselves despite our constant strides towards “self-love”, still blinded by the fog of guilt and not being perfect yet. We won’t ever be perfect as we perceive it, but in the eyes of many complimentary beings, we are so perfect as we are. Some are even blind to our self-perceived imperfections because they see us as their own beautiful reflection. Not only are external factors a reflections; it is two-sided. WE are a reflection of the Universal, Godly magic and beauty in everyone else if we can see ourselves this way.

Most importantly, love has to be reflected in words. You need to understand that you are so beautiful as you are even in your imperfect health, facial flaws, inconvenient setbacks, etc… and that so many people are already placed in your path, eager to love and accept you for all of that whenever you allow them to. Loving yourself is accepting yourself for all the beliefs you lock down deep within, accepting that everybody has insecurities that won’t be resolved no matter how hard we try until we surrender to acceptance. 

And accepting that nobody else we love will ever be perfect, so we must learn to love beyond the flawed perceptions and into Truth and wholeness of oneness.

®Camille M. Garcia (2017)

 

Too Old, Too Young

Soul heartedly, Uncategorized

To my elders:

Do not fear your increasing age. Some say age is only a number. Age is not only a number; age is power. Do you remember being a young adult who lied about your age to feel like you were something more than you were; to feel more superior and accepted by the world? Do you remember feeling paralyzed by young age because, in this particular society, you weren’t allowed to have a voice? You weren’t allowed to vote for what you believed in. You weren’t even allowed to attend a show by a band you’d always wanted to see perform, because they were playing in a bar, even if you didn’t plan on drinking alcohol your entire life?

Embrace your age, because age is beauty. Your years possess so much knowledge and power and inspirational journeys within them. With each passing day, you’ve dealt through changing circumstances and travel experiences, even if they were short excursions. You’ve enhanced your personality with every pair of eyes you’ve ever peered into and every hand you’ve held, with every dance you’ve ever danced in the musty alleyways or attics with green carpet… With every year, you have both gained love and sacrificed love. Those are treasures to nourish in your memory, and in the way you live life each day. Try to remember how each new experience has changed you in some way, into a person that you should be proud to accept.

Take this advice from an old soul who has lost her voice from trying so hard to be twice the age she is, who cringes at the sound of her real age like it’s an insult, and who has hidden away from the world because she believed she wouldn’t be taken seriously if she told her secret. Increasing age means increasing freedom.

To my youth:

Age does not have to mean power. You are free to express your truest self regardless of your age. You are allowed to form friendships with any soul who is 10, 20, 30, 40, 50, 60, 70, 80, and maybe even 90 years older than yourself. You may treat them not as elders, but as you perceive their souls. You are never too young to begin pursuing your crazy endeavors. Your youth is, in fact, a blessing to any of your creative endeavors.

Perhaps you may not be regarded seriously when you express your powerful thoughts and ideas~ but I believe these ideas are likely just as mature as you will ever become, so do it anyway. So long as you are passionate and persistent about anything you love, your ability will only grow stronger. Begin doing what you want to do with your life NOW– not when you’re older and have more qualifications. Never dismiss any idea that tugs at your heart and causes your soul to weep tears of joy.

Take this advice from a girl who was too easily influenced by the discouraging words of others, losing her soul’s passion and motivation in the process, choosing diagonal paths in the opposite direction of her true destination. Never be humiliated by words that were written from the most authentic sincerity of your heart.

With love,

Camille

Flutter

Soul heartedly

But isn’t it hard to leave the disorganized disaster of your first apartment and your only hometown? Isn’t it heartbreaking to abandon all ten thousand of your soulmates whom make up one sixth of this city’s population, even if only for a month? Isn’t it frightening to not know your destination?

But I do know my destination. My destination is to release all of my fear, all of my doubts, all of my skepticism out the windows, flying at eighty miles per hour so that they are free to roam the wilderness and foreign grounds, but they may never latch onto the high plains again.

All I know is that if I do not do this, I will be succumbed to a twenty-one year long pattern of high plains lifestyle; where words are stated but not acted upon, where unreliability is the anticipated outcome, where love is timid and limited. Another thing I know is that my imagination cannot fathom another frigid Antarctic season, in which limbs freeze and inflexibility is a custom trait, and fog resides heavily atop the mind.

My imagination can, however, foresee the colorful culture of the unknown and un-acted upon possibilities. Those possibilities are not timid, are not limited. Those possibilities are sculpted from love alone. Love from a higher source, love derived from intuition.

Upturning Soil

Soul heartedly

Salvage as much as you can and get rid of as much as possible.

There’s a saying that goes, “Always leave a place better than you found it.” I realized that for that past year, I’d done just the opposite. Living in the attic-esque upstairs portion of a peach colored 114 year old house, I did for the interior what I could, but never was able to keep it very kempt. Last summer I purchased and potted as many houseplants as I could afford. I regularly attended garage sales in hopes that the treasures I found would help me better organize my junk.

I’ve inherited and snipped cuttings of more plants since then. I have been forced into receiving hand-me-downs in the forms of furniture and rugs, so I now have copious amounts of such items. I’ve bargained and traded with half the people in town (well, maybe that’s an exaggeration). Anyhow, for a moment I believed it was impossible to turn such a disorganized, cluttered living space into something semi-permanently inhabitable. But the coming of June 1st has given me hope– ever since I found a job at the garden store, the plant spirits have conjured up a garden of inspiration in my mind and have made it clear to me that I must not leave this place dingy and haunted as it once was.

It began as I was walking up my steps last week, when my downstairs neighbor called out to me. I stepped onto the roof to more easily communicate with her, and our neighbor to the right called to me, “Are you trying to kill yourself?” I had a rooftop laughing session while my two neighbors laughed along with me on ground level. After I stepped inside, she came to my door with a jar of lilacs and a single poppy from the back yard. That night, I took my rose tile table out to my entrance and placed my potted Creeping Jenny vine there, anticipating Jenny would creep upwards along the house. I twisted my Tibetan prayer flags around the deck railing. I repurposed some large containers into planters and replanted succulents which were growing out of their original smaller jars.

Today, as the sun shone its rays heavily upon our block and I made my way around to the front entry of the house, I found my neighbor in a determined state of moving the 500 lb bathtub underneath the steps of the abandoned house next door. We’d been discussing turning this into an herb garden, or some sort of flower garden. This determination was contagious and caught onto me also. We were so determined that we somehow managed to summon 4 strong construction men to help us within fifteen minutes by the sheer power of our minds.  The six of us were finally able to move it. In those fifteen minutes of waiting, I also found a fence, some stepping stones, and part of a railing I thought we could use as ornaments to the new garden.


Soon, one bathtub garden became two as I arranged the stones and bricks into a half circle around  the other side of the front house. I tilled the earth with the 100 year old hoe we had available (until I broke it, but just in time). My feet were bare for half of it, soaking in the fertile earth, giving me energy.  I pulled the roots of weeds with my bare hands and revealed earth fully. Just the act of doing this made me high with sun and earth energies. I was ecstatic and proud of my work, as though I’d already planted various beautiful flowers in this area with bountiful results.

I can envision it, though. Perhaps this goes against the renter’s agreement… but you have to do what you can to make each day more beautiful and full of color instead of living in a colorless, careful world. My soul is content for the first time in the entire year of living here… And it’s all because of the flowers. They’ve completely resurrected my creativity and have eased my paranoias. I thank the flowers and this ancient house for giving me such an opportunity. Gardening has changed my mind about moving anywhere else for now, because I’ve always strived to feel settled where I’m at before I enter an unsettled place. Though I have no plans for how this is going to work out, I can trust the process.

5/5: Big Magic

Abstract Essays, Numerology, Small Miracles, Soul heartedly

Two weeks ago, I bought a fairly expensive ticket to see my favorite author and one of my biggest inspirations, Elizabeth Gilbert, speak about her newest book Big Magic. I assumed I wouldn’t find anyone to go with me, because who else would be so ecstatic to drive 100 miles for a motivational speech on Creativity? I knew it wasn’t rational to spend so much money on such an event that would last a maximum of two hours– especially when I am in an insecure job situation, especially when I am risking the possibility of getting lost in a city 100 miles away and four times the size of my own… basically, I was “risking my life” [for the selfish purpose of creative motivation] as my mother warned.

As the event date drew closer to reality, I hadn’t been thinking too much about it. It wasn’t until a couple days before that I realized it the event occurred on May 5, or Cinco de Mayo, aka 5/5– a possibly dangerous day in numerology due to the superstition that multiple 5’s indicate a huge life changing event. Perhaps I’d already talked myself out of it, which is why I wasn’t too worried. No one would go with me, I didn’t have anywhere to stay the night in an area that would likely be dense with drunk drivers, my little car might not have been completely reliable (even though my car-expert of an uncle told me it was just fine last week), etc, etc.   I could  have simply canceled or sold my tickets, regaining my money to be that much more wealthy once again.

These fears came just an inch close of directing the course of how I spent my Thursday, May 5th, 2016. These fears almost cornered me in my room that night, almost spending it safely and soundly in the comfort of my own home… as well as in the regretful distress of my mind. They almost had their way with me… but fortunately, I had more voices telling me, “You’ll be fine” with consoling smiles than the voice that told me, “This is the most dangerous thing you could even THINK of doing– why would you do it?! And in rush hour traffic!”

As I read a few more pages of Big Magic the afternoon of the event, my heart grew full of possibility and wonder. Fireworks were sparking.  It was like Elizabeth Gilbert herself was smiling at me, saying, “You’ll be fine. Just do it! THIS is your life-changing event! This is BIG MAGIC!”

And so it was: my fear was outweighed by not only curiosity, but MAGIC. I was more driven by the very alive force of magic working amongst the Universe as I read those pages about overcoming fear.

I used my magical powers to divert traffic away from my car on the highway and into Denver city, creating a bubble of protection. There was fear, but I pushed it to the distance. When it came time to park in the parking garage, I had to circle around a few times in desperation before finally entering and finding a spot… and memorizing it. I have been known for getting lost in parking garages. Shaking as I walked downtown, I took some deep breaths of the polluted city air and tried to collect myself. What magic was possible here, Universe?

Well, as I was walking, I remembered it was one of my long-lost best friend’s birthday. I messaged her to wish her well and inquired about her plans. She had none! On this party girl’s 21st birthday, she had no plans! I almost didn’t even attempt to contact this friend since I never knew where she was living or how to contact her anymore, but she responded. She was living in a Denver suburb and gave me her address so I could stop by later to catch up… she only lived 9.3 miles away from downtown, according to my GPS. This was much safer than 97.3 miles… and how magical it would be to spend time with a best friend I hadn’t seen in a whole year!

Still, I had the entire hour to spare in downtown Denver before I needed to arrive at the theater. I meandered the sidewalks packed with a variety of people strolling down them, together. On the other side of the street, a music duo caught my ear. One was playing guitar and the other ukulele. I crossed the street to get a closer listen… they were playing folky Grateful Dead covers. The familiar-looking girl with red dreads took a break and talked to me. We instantly became friends when I told her I was also a singer-songwriter/ guitar player, and she went on further to explain her wanderlust journeys with her travel partner. Their van had broken down somewhere in New Mexico so they were planning on spending the summer in Manitou Springs.

“I was thinking about moving to Manitou Springs this fall because of a job opportunity!” I exclaimed. So we agreed to run into each other there. So now if I move to this foreign town, I will at least be acquainted with other musicians of exactly my style.

I found my way to the theater in plenty of time before Liz began, only to collect myself. I’d been hoping to make a connection with whomever sat next to me so I didn’t quite have to say I was “alone” at this event. 15 minutes later, my seat partner did arrive. I hung up a phone call and attempted to spark a conversation with her, hoping she would be somewhat responsive and not think I was a weirdo for my interest in meeting people. This woman also looked very familiar to me and I wondered if I’d crossed paths with her before.  We did have a connection; speaking easily about traffic and parking garages and where we lived… but nothing too colorful. We talked until the speech began.

Throughout the entirety of Liz Gilbert’s speech, I was smiling to my cheekbones while tears rained down my cheeks, mostly for the reason that every word she spoke about creativity and synchronicity was so true to my soul. The very first thing she said was the largest reason I was there. It would have been enough had I gone for the sole purpose of hearing her say, Your life will become a work of art in itself if you lead a life driven more by curiosity than fear.

I almost regretted that I didn’t write my question down for the Q&A session afterward… but I had a feeling whatever questions I had would be answered through her speech. And of course, they were. She asked a question that made me think deeply in a couple of different areas:

What is it that excites you the most? What ignites you enough to bring you to life each day?

This made me question all of my creative endeavors I’m currently trying to pursue and make a living out of: (1) singing/ writing songs (2) writing stories/ essays (3) practicing reiki  (4) making herbal remedies and (5) making vintage button jewelry. Which one brings me to life the most? This was probably the hardest question for me to answer. It seems that all of these passions coming together at once have been more destructive to me than igniting.

But then she said something else– that she wanted to fully meet people, everyone she encountered throughout her book tour, and ask them this question.

This concept is very parallel to an idea I once had about crossing paths with people persistently. I thought that perhaps I should actually meet these people and get to the bottom of WHY we happened to cross paths so often, and then write about these connections. But for what? Would the answer to meeting recurring people resolve the mysteries of the Universe? What would happen if they thought I was a stalker?

Well, she had an answer for that too. Because disaster really means ‘exploding star’. If your creative ambitions lead to a disaster, which is very possible, at least you participated in the way of the Universe: making something out of nothing. Besides, it’s not like I would be killing anybody by writing about them. Right? And if I didn’t write about these experiences, at least I would have satisfied my spell of curiosity. This applies to every single one of my creative aspirations listed above, but a thought came to me for a moment:

Is crossing paths with new people and making soul connections the thing that excites me the most?

Ridiculous. I don’t have time for that. Singing has always been the top of my list, so I really should go after that (after I resolve my sinus inflammation issue) . But is my favorite part of singing that act of singing… or meeting people afterward? I can think of plenty stories.

Little did I know that by the end of the most impactful speech to my personal life I came out to witness, my favorite author would be having us singing! Explaining that singing in groups (karaoke!) is her most important routine ritual, she asked us to sing a song no other than the one that has always been a form of unity in my Wyoming community: “Country Roads” by John Denver. The vibration of the theater raised a couple hundred kilohertz as the entire audience sang in unison to our hearts’ content. How could I ever have almost missed this magical occurrence of union and feeling at home in an unfamiliar city with my favorite author and my new friend, Jen?

My heart was sobbing with exuberance afterward. As I exited, walking with Jen, I decided to ask her an important question. “What is it that excites you the most?”

This question led to a conversation about the exhilaration of traveling alone, a mutual gluten sensitivity, and… of course, a mutual love for meeting new people. We stood on the corner of bustling 16th Street talking about our passions for awhile before we departed, and decided to keep in touch.

I am grateful to the big magic which paved my way to this event. To think that I almost missed forming some new friendships, having a spontaneous sleepover with a childhood friend, and singing “Country Roads” with my favorite author!

5/5 did turn out to be a completely life-changing date, as prophesied. I learned  to accept my fears without allowing them to overcome me on my solo adventure, all the while doing the thing that excites me most: making connections.

 

 

 

 

Foreign Lands

Soul heartedly

https://soundcloud.com/rosmarinasol/foreign-lands

So…

Did you know I’m a singer-songwriter???

Oh, I never mentioned that? I never wrote about that, not even once? Huh. I really only have one excuse, and it’s a ridiculous one: FEAR. Fear of imperfection. Fear of rejection. Fear of SUCCESS.

This is my first attempt at recording, but my dreams are already starting to flow wild and free, all the way down to Texas. All the way east to North Carolina. All the way west to California. And of course, I’d have to go all the way north to Canada, too, since basically all of my favorite artists are native Canadians. The Be Good Tanyas, Kathleen Edwards, Frazey Ford…

What if I could open for one of my favorite artists? What if I could collaborate with some emerging artists of similar styles like Mariee Sioux, Lauren Shera, Catherine Feeny, or Laura Veirs? I’m learning something new everyday here in Cheyenne, Wyoming… I’m learning that there’s more to Planet Earth than the vast Plains. The Plains are a great place to gaze upon and wonder, and dream. They’re expansive enough to feel free, but they’re a little dry. Not to mention the 80mph gusts of wind we’ve had this week.

It’s as though the wind is bringing in energies to me from all directions, allowing my dreams to expand farther than the Plains. They’ve expanded to the Colorado mountain regions, where wildflowers spring up along fast-moving streams. They’ve expanded to the New Mexican desert, where half of my ancestry lies. They’ve expanded to oceans of every kind, although I’m a little hesitant to go there yet.

I want to bring my voice to all these places. I want to collaborate with as many great artists as possible; sing in local coffee shops, bars, venues of towns both small and large– I’m formulating a formal recording plan, and then a tour plan, hopefully all by this summer.

In the meantime, I want to bring my sound to you, you awesome writers and artists. I enjoy reading of your adventures, and I hope you’ve enjoyed reading of mine. Now, I truly hope you enjoy hearing the sound of all my adventures on the Wyoming Plains.

As always, there will be more updates on my music to come as well as more writings of magic and synchronicity. You can also see proof of all my magical happenings and gigs on my Facebook page, Rosmarina Sol. (I’ll have to do another blog about how I chose this name and why I had to do it.) The basic translation, anyway, is Rosemary Sun– my two main sources of creativity.

Okay, so no more procrastination. It’s fun to write. It’s fun to record. It’s fun to share. Life can be so much more expansive than living in fear and hating the wind. EMBRACE the wind, embrace new change. FLY with the wind.

When the Sun Stood Still

Small Miracles, Soul heartedly

When the sun stood still and so did we, it harmed our world and our galaxy…

The stars don’t shine, they seem to sing, ‘Return to your festivities’. 

I’ll admit it was a dark month. I’m sure all living beings across the entire Earth felt it, too. The days had never seemed shorter. My feet were constantly aching, my sinuses were chronically clogged, people were unresponsive. It was like the Universe was ignoring me– something I’m not quite used to. I had to call upon Universal sources in all the ways I could possibly think of to get Someone’s attention… I felt like a neglected child, but perhaps I was only throwing a dramatic tantrum after being put in time-out for a mild amount of time. Looking at the bigger picture, meaning the poverty and crises of the whole planet, I suppose my conditions could have been worse.

Still, I wasn’t being creative enough to cure my cold, empty heart. I was asking Higher Powers for assistance but I forgot about the Law of Attraction. Here I was, laying on the floor in a heap of adrenal fatigue, cursing the world for ignoring me, when there were a billion stars in the sky ignored by a good portion of those still awake in their homes watching TV!was the one ignoring the Universe! How could I expect anything in return when I put no energy into admiration of the natural law?

My sickness had prevented me from doing lots of things. I would only work 4 hours and feel exhausted beyond measure. I couldn’t breathe at night because of my clogged sinuses. I was a low-functioning disaster treading pavement and polished tiles in the few hours of the sun provided its rays. My self-esteem was falling down a bottomless pit. Even my nervous system was a wreck; I experienced severe brain fog, speech problems, vertigo… and my feet were the only ones crackling out of twenty meditators during mindful walking (I was the youngest of all by 30 years). It occurred to me that not only was my spirit ancient… my physical body was experiencing symptoms as though it were as old as my soul!

Feeling handicapped, it was hard to make decisions. It still is. After all, it’s only been like six days, and here I am speaking in grave past tense. (At least we don’t have to hear me try to vocalize it, because the intro would have been even longer and more off-track than this one). So you can probably imagine how hard it was for me to decide to attend a Winter Solstice yoga event at 2pm when I got off work at 2pm. After working longer shifts, I usually go home and become immobile for at least two hours. Doing absolutely nothing, because I don’t have a television and I’m too tired to read.

This was different, though. Something stirred my spirit when I had the idea, or what some might say a calling, to bring my Winter Solstice Song to the potluck afterwards instead of a dish. I didn’t have the time or the energy to prepare a dish, but I did have a year-old song relevant to the event. There would be a singing-bowl performance and guided meditation following the yoga practice. I needed to attend. So I got off work eight minutes early, ran back home to get my guitar and change into yoga clothes, and arrived to the studio only two minutes late. That was a 10 minute round trip. Magic, I thought to myself. I am magic.

With that decision, I began celebrating the Solstice two days early, and I’m never early for anything on a normal basis. The two-hour celebration of movement connecting us to the core of our beings and our love, then being washed over by singing bowl songs, was felt even more intensely after being processed with water. While everybody sat down on their mats afterward with full plates, I sat on a chair and sang my song to the studio  completely packed with lovely souls. The girl selling jewelry told me my voice made her tear up. It nearly surprised me that the singing bowl-ist told me she’d love to sing with me. But with the unresponsiveness I’d been receiving the past month, I assumed we never would but accepted the kind thought.

Two days later, on the actual Winter Solstice, we did. I was invited to a fire ceremony welcoming the return of the light. Some people were late, and we didn’t want to stand outside for any longer than we needed to… so I shared my Winter Solstice Song for everyone who was there to kick things off, just in the warmth of the old house. This was the time to do it. I could have talked myself out of it, by why wouldn’t I play it ON the Winter Solstice? We stood outside for nearly three hours, embracing the cold and the wind and the snow at my feet. We acknowledged the four directions, the winds, the natural forces of the Earth. All the great healers of the city were present. And there, too, was I. Time was in the process of reversing itself from days of darkness to days of more light. So naturally, I shouldn’t have expected things to stay the same. However, I didn’t know my entire life perspective was about to halt and reverse its order.

I stayed up until 3am drinking cacao and singing my soul out with the singing bowl lady/ renowned massage therapist and her husband. We even added cayenne pepper, turmeric, butter, and coconut oil in our cacao to celebrate the return of the light. Moreover, we added these things to activate the fire in our creative endeavors and in our music. It worked. I mean, you can talk about “healing vibrations” to anyone on a daily basis, but how often do you feel strong vibrations radiating throughout your whole body? On your body? Outside of your body? That’s how this was.

So why hadn’t I ever considered making music with healers? That night as I stood outside in a circle around the fire, I also spoke with an acquaintance  who’d just lost her husband and the custody of her three daughters. They had a family band, and now all that’s left is her and her son. When I told her I’d like to hear her band, she said, “I’d rather you play with us.”  So today I sang with them. We began learning “Heart of Gold”, “Dust in the Wind”, and “Blackbird”. They said they use music as their primary form of healing from heartache and grief. And it’s working, energetically. To be asked to sing with them is the highest form of praise I could be given; to them, my music is healing. I left the house feeling warm and enlightened, tingling with magical sensations everywhere.

Yes, all of this happened in 6 days– the busiest week of the year for everyone in the middle of the Christmas season– but somehow the Universe provided time for the healing art of music collaborations. There is a reason. It’s simply because we were celebrating the return of light instead of standing still as the time reversed. The galaxy is your oyster once you admire the natural forces of all that is. Look at the stars with love, and you will be given love in return…

 

 

 

Writer’s Revelation

Soul heartedly

When life gets confusing and nothing makes sense anymore, all you have left are words. Words to delve into the subconscious abyss, gradually winding down a hole filled with white light for minutes, hours, days, years— until something is revealed to the writer and finally she can rest. It’s a dizzying, long journey. Once she has reached the bottom of this white light-filled hole, she will realize that the answer is not at the bottom. She will look up and see that she has created something of what had been nothing. Something beautiful and intricate, packed with stories of adventure. And this will be the greatest epiphany of all. Furthermore, she’ll realize that she was never really alone. No– words were there all along, serving as the most comforting company anyone could have fathomed. They were there to answer questions that seemed unresolvable, predicting the future better than any fortune-teller could have. They were all the power and magic in the Universe, right at the tips of her ten fingers.