GROW:
“To spring up and develop to maturity.” (Merriam-Webster)

“It’s very hard to grow, because it’s difficult to let go of the models of ourselves in which we’ve invested so heavily.”
– Ram Dass

Illusions: Cloaked Doorways to Empowerment
 
Imagine if illusions were shatterproof, like acrylic dishes that simply bounce when dropped on the kitchen floor, or the colorful Christmas ornaments that remain intact when knocked from the tree by an excited toddler or ambitious cat. Imagine if the unconscious preferences we cling to were impervious to disruption or the occasional explosion life throws our way. Human kind has mastered the technology to create bulletproof glass, among other notable inventions; what if on the level of our psyche the stories we chose to believe regarding identity or the ways in which we are righteous were never challenged? What would happen?

We would not grow.

Think about that acrylic dish or those plastic Christmas ornaments, somehow lacking the lustrous quality of china or glass, as if the fragility of Grandma’s favorite tea cup is somehow also what gives it glow and worth. In the recognition of impermanence there is life, a sense of vitality and presence.

When I was a little girl, young enough that the knees of adults were at eye level and shoes were a curiosity of detail, soda bottles were still made of glass. I remember the cumbersome hazard of raising a pop to my mouth, the smash of hard glass against young teeth. Large, two-liter bottles were especially heavy and somewhat of a liability when dropped – something I observed firsthand when one slid out of my mother’s hand in the grocery store one day.

The crash was loud and a bit shocking. Glass shattered, bouncing and settling into a wide puddle of slippery shards. Liquid splashed my dress and speckled my arms with cool droplets as I watched my mother’s feet in a slow-motion slide, first forward, then rising unnaturally into the air. Reaching out, she caught herself on some of the broken pieces and flatly landed on others. Brilliant red streams of blood mixed with brown Coca-Cola in surreal artistry, like the splatter and stroke of an abstract autumn painting. In that moment my sense of security shattered like the crash of the soda bottle hitting the grocery store floor.

We are born into a world of illusion. By its very construct this dimension – a magnetic coalescence of mathematical principles informing matter and chaos and infused with divine organization – is one subjectively perceived through both our human senses and our greater spiritual awareness. Gradually as our bodies’ age and we accumulate life experiences, the illusions that we create through our unconscious desires and preferences begin to evaporate in a systematic dismantling of our ego self.

Perhaps despite ourselves, who we think we are supposed to be – through best intention – becomes interrupted by the revelation of who we truly are, as if inherent in the cosmic design of creation is some mysterious, deep algorithm that defaults to love. Our “higher” self is like the hawk in its understanding of the whole picture, and like the eagle in its soaring connection to spirit; as such our higher selves might know this space of gratitude for the challenges that confront us when we are lost in limited thinking and choice-less action. But our “small” self is lost in the mouse’s view.

Each time we confront who and what we are NOT, we experience a discomfort that is directly proportional to our degree of attachment to an outcome we had hoped for. The better able we are to let go into non-attachment with absolute neutrality, the less pain that we feel and the more open we become to the empowerment that lives within us and wants so desperately to be revealed.

That morning in the grocery store I gained perspective that I have never forgotten. As shuffling feet and outcries circled my peripheral awareness, in full panic I sought my mother’s eyes. I had no words, only fear, yet when our eyes connected hers were filled with only love. Her words were calm and slow as she spoke through a gentle smile that was discordant with the circus of blood and soda.

“Sweetheart, go with the nice woman. Go with your sister and the nice woman. She is going to play games with you!”

My mother’s energy was soft, undisturbed, and the bedrock of trust I carried from her womb to my three-year-old self was strong enough. I allowed her calm to infuse my alarm as she neutralized the much greater issue at stake: my mother, who was the source of all things safe and good and upon whom I was entirely and unquestioningly dependent, was a mere mortal.

Illusion shattered.

Confusingly it was okay…safe, even. I relaxed, and the tension left my body. Relaxation was a distinct choice and I remember feeling it as such, one based on trust; in those early moments it was trust of my mother. Later in life, it has become trust in the greater order of things, the divine nature of which I am a part.

Were it not for pain perhaps we would never budge and inch from our contentment.

Honestly, what if illusions were shatter-proof? Rather than venture from the silky, rapturous confines of comfort we would settle deeper into the luxurious folds of our self-made facades because if it ain’t broke, why fix it?

Fortunately life is its own check and balance system. Never are we so unloved that the delusions of our making do not eventually reveal themselves for what they are (who we are not.) While it is true that every moment we are shaping this creative reality in which we are both the clay and the sculptor, most of the time we feel like the clay, with the artist-in-residence on siesta somewhere. Failing to realize to what extent we are gifted, we settle into a hopeless lack of perspective, the veil of ignorance. To this Life says, “oh yeah?” – offering the karmic kick-in-the-pants when we need it the most, in subtle and not so subtle ways. In fact this dimension presents the perfect container for growth; we have only to open our eyes in the morning to know this is so. What we see out of those eyes (a dismal day ahead, a glorious sunrise) determines how we approach our opportunities for growth, which we might also call freedom.

Despite the cosmic assistance to remove the veils that obstruct our authentic nature, still we stubbornly hang on to our small version of illusion. If only I were successful, had the perfect partner, had more opportunities, was prettier, thinner, etc etc, if ONLY…life would be better. The existential waiting line is long and perpetuates our avoidance of the present. The paradox is that the present moment is precisely where our power lies…waiting. Why waste time in the waiting line of make-believe when our true power lies waiting for us to discover it here, now?

Looking the Killer in the Eyes

We all have an inner saboteur, some of us worse than others. The saboteur likes to feed on our internal wound and to bond on the level of the wound with others. We all have an emotional wound; what we might not realize is that the wound is the gift, the key.

“Watch how your mind judges. Judgment comes, in part, out of your own fear. You judge other people because you’re not comfortable in your own being.” – Ram Dass

Have you even had a connection with someone that is based entirely on victimization? Someone that you can complain with, justify dissatisfaction with and never quite rise above any of the “perpetual therapeutic irritations of life” (Yogi Amrit Desai) with? These types of relationships perpetuate karmic cycles of stagnation and can lead to deepening levels of pain and frustration. How do you “vibrate” in the presence of this type of interaction with another? How do you feel when you walk away from a conversation spent indulging in wounded feelings? There is a time and place for venting, for telling our story, for validation of our pain. Through feeling, we can discern the difference between clear and conscious validation versus a refusal to go deeper. When we neglect the honest validation and integration of our shadow material, our shadow grows bigger, stronger and more controlling of our general outlook, attitude and more dangerously, our motives and actions. This affects our wellbeing and sense of connection while supporting separation, depression and fear.

“Fire the judge. Hire the Witness.”
– Yogi Amrit Desai

True friendship begins with ourselves. We become trustworthy when we are able to sit in the seat of our wounds and take ownership of our pain without shame or blame. When we take ownership of our original wound, we begin to make peace with and integrate the shadow side of our nature. Through this process we are also better able to sustain witness to the pain and shadow of others from a non-judgmental place. This is an act of love. In the absence of judgment, we relax. When we relax, healing happens. (In our “Tools for Growth” section we will discuss HOW to endure the process of witnessing the wound while feeling everything, without projection, distraction or suppression.)

Everyone we interact with is our teacher. God speaks through all beings and the most troubling relationships can be a catalyst for the deepest growth. But sometimes along the way we find a true mentor, someone who says the right thing at the right time, even if we do not like what we are hearing.

One of my strongest teachers was a person who was very comfortable with her shadow material and lived in the heart of her authentic nature without apology. She saw through me easily; through my ego defenses to the source of my wounds and to the twist in my shadow created when I refused to take responsibility for the deepest part of my pain. She also understood my intellect and methodical approach to self-growth and development. In my ignorance I took deliberate, large bites of power and chewed hard. But combining intellect with unrecognized shadow material and strong will is a dangerous combination.

“You have a killer in you.”

Confusion. I would never kill a fly. I dedicate my life to service and deep healing for myself and others. How could I have a killer within me?

My killer, I discovered, is an operative. No wonder I love action movies about government assassins. I love the way they fight, move without fear and slay their targets without flinching. I love the way they face death. But surely, I am not THAT.

In time I understood that acknowledging how we operate on the level of our shadow is an important part of reclaiming our power. If we know how we operate as the worst version of ourselves, we begin to control our shadow rather than have our shadow control us. Instead of becoming our unbridled reaction when triggered by our wound, we observe what we feel from a place of perspective and respond with maturity.

“I want you to stand with two feet on the ground and stare your killer straight in the eye.”

When we have the courage to face the ways we behave when embodying the worst version of ourselves, when we understand our more underhanded motives and why they exist, we are standing strong and facing our own saboteur; we take our power back.

The unleashed, undisciplined aspect of my killer no longer runs roughshod through my life. Instead, I harness the well-developed tactics of my inner operative to routinely slay the adversary of self-doubt and negativity when it arises. My killer is well versed in slaying anything within me that keeps me from love.

Dark Night of the Soul

Pain prompts growth, but so does love. When we allow ourselves to open to love we are living in our vulnerability. Our vulnerability is equal to our level of strength and protection. Becoming comfortable with vulnerability, even when it leads to heartbreak, is never not worthwhile. Only openness leads to growth, empowerment and connection. All living things seek intimacy and strive to embrace what nourishes survival. Flowers grow toward the light. If we consider our capacity for love to be like the light of the sun, we are the same as the flowers.

“Be like the flowers. Never false, always vulnerable and ever reaching toward the light.”

Love found me at twenty-two years old when I was still a cabinet maker’s apprentice. At the time I was on a job site installing cabinets in a multi-million dollar lakeside “camp” that was under construction. My father had been patiently teaching me the ways of wood, from milling to finish work, in preparation for unexpectedly assuming the family business someday. (What I did not know then was that I only had four more years with my father before he would fall ill with lung cancer.) On the day I found love, as I shyly moved about an environment overflowing with men in male-dominated trades, one voice penetrated my self-absorption. A rancorous symphony of angry tones, gesture and blond hair erupted down the stairs into the great room. Flip phone to ear, his audacity-laced volatility unconcerned with audience, my future husband was the full spectacle of unbridled rage at someone over something. Disgusted, I turned away.

Later when my father introduced us I realized this bombastic finish carpenter named “Buddy” had charm and wit. For a year we would jest with and jibe one another on various jobs, eventually taking to hiking and cycling together. At one point my father said to me, “He is pursuing you, you know,” which I disregarded blankly. This method of courting was unrecognizable to me, one which my father called old fashioned and which he approved of heartily.

While I saw myself married with children someday, I was in no rush. My pursuits were diverse and led to deep study in yoga and healing from a young age. For well more than a decade these pursuits ran parallel to my cabinet work and eventually took precedence. Heartbroken by my father’s eventual passing, for several more years I walked in his footsteps and continued to take on work in the cabinet shop. Wood working brought me closer to him, but as a career cabinet maker I did not realize I was missing an unrealized part of myself. My father tried to tell me as much in a lucid dream after he died. As we sat together on the front stoop of my parent’s home I could feel his frustration when he said, “Don’t try to be like me. I am a four of clubs. You are the queen of hearts.” An avid poker player, it was not surprising he distilled our individual natures into playing card metaphor; a powerful one no less, that I still think of often. And, of course he was right.

I didn’t listen.

Ram Dass says, “Death is taking off a tight shoe.” Death may have offered my father perspective, but I was still lost in the illusion born of my desire to hold on to his memory. Illusion leads to challenges because love wants us to wake up; the adoption of my father’s lifelong path as my own led to challenge in the form of physical illness, fatigue, stress and anger, until one day my husband drew a line and said it was him or the shop. I chose our relationship. At that time, I was already a certified yoga teacher so I did the next natural thing which was to open my first yoga studio, a path that has sustained and deepened in one form or another for over twenty years. Eventually married, we built a two-story colonial on ten acres of land and had a beautiful son. I bought a small SUV and was a stay-at-home mom, dedicating all of my free time to volunteer work in my spiritual community. Our lives were picture perfect. Until Kali came a-knocking.

Growth happens when we least expect it, just when we want to settle into and become comfy-cozy in our identity, our lifestyle. Like Kali Ma, the Hindu Goddess of destruction, growth might dance up to the door with grace or it might barrel through uninvited, but either way it comes, and always with the same motivation: our highest good. Growth tears us down, burns us in the fires of our own making and then dances on the ashes of ego in the funeral pyre of our life so that the phoenix within can rise anew. How well we persevere through this process is determined by our resistance or lack of resistance to what we feel when Kali shimmies to our doorstep and presses our buttons. How we handle discomfort on an ego level determines how we operate; how we operate determines whether or not we perpetuate a cycle of karma, over and over and over, or whether we discover the inner strength to release “who we are not” (starting to sound familiar?) and believe in who we truly are.

For me, the greatest growth challenge of my life was the one that nearly killed me. Kicking and screaming I was dragged into the depths of my scariest-of-scary caves to discover the shiniest and largest gem I could ever imagine. Better than any illusion, this diamond sparkles real radiance and unlike illusion, can never be taken away by anyone or anything. As a survivor of abuse, eating disorders, cult-like abuse of power and tribal ostracizing I have had many things taken from me, not the least of which was my self-worth, dignity and power, but it was when my husband was taken from me that I truly fell apart.

My husband left because he fell prey to the seduction of a spiritual leader who somehow convinced him that the best path to God was leaving his family, filing bankruptcy and donating large quantities of money to live on a mountain in a shed with community. Somehow this vision pried him from his own flesh and blood son and the woman with whom he had spent nearly twenty years.

With a two-year-old to care for, I shimmered in disbelief. Yet once the cosmic wheels were in motion each catastrophe seemingly led to another in one grand orgasmic, gothic opera: divorce, my mother’s death through sudden illness, bankruptcy, loss of my home to foreclosure and a spawn of other challenges too numerous to mention. Barely able to grieve the loss of my mother, the IRS descended with a gift; a fifty-thousand-dollar unpaid tax bill from my ex-husband’s business for which he had settled, the remaining portion for which I was deemed responsible. Numb, I watched as the inheritance my mother left – the last piece of illusory security she had to offer – slipped off into the archives of the IRS halls of shame.

Bankrupt, parentless, unemployed and divorced I struggled to integrate levels of complex grief that were too profound to sort through. Splayed out in my own pool of “blood and soda” I longed for that gaze into my mother’s eyes, invoking calm in the face of obvious chaos. In the absence of her presence I turned to the presence of the divine. Yet try as I might I could not conjure faith; after all I had endured and all of what was ahead, how could I relax into the arms of the divine mother?

Growth comes when we stop refusing to feel. When we drop the ego defenses, the need to blame, shame, project, suppress or distract, finally we feel, unfettered. When this happens a feeling IS, it arises and becomes the fullest version of itself, validated by our neutral attention, our capacity to witness without trying to control. Feeling can rock through our body like an earthquake, shatter our very foundation and render us an ocean of tears, but once felt all the way through, the feeling always leaves a gift. Connection happens when we have the courage to feel, and insight follows.

In reality, growth happens whether we show up or not, whether we are the willing heroine or the unwilling heroine. In this new life I was unwilling. The picture of my world, my purpose, my future was unreconcilably obliterated. The future for my child, in my mind, was destroyed. I never wanted to be a single mother, but here I was wandering through the rooms of a strange, newly rented house through too many sleepless nights, alone save for my baby boy. Unable to rest I took to painting and re-painting the walls of each room in deep, nurturing colors with a hand brush. There was something comforting about the sound of the bristles, the swathes of color the I could create over and over until I was too tired to stand. As if by painting these walls I was in control somehow of recreating my world, stroke by diligent stroke with nearly manic focus.

Now in the wee hours, my toddler finally asleep after yet another bedtime ritual of screaming, “Where is Daddy?”, after my evening routine of collapsing in tears on the living room couch and asking God, “Why? Why? Why?” I could not face even the paintbrush and instead wandered about in the dark, room to room. I could feel my ancestors huddling around me in spirit, as if enough of them gathered close enough I would feel their presence and know that I was not alone. It was in these moments, standing at the kitchen stove dimly lit by the streetlight outside, staring randomly at the white glossy enamel surface, that I faced the most destructive belief of my life that I had not…quite…realized…I held:

Love equals loss.

Everything I had experienced up to this moment meant unequivocally that I was a worthless human being. Rejected by spiritual community and my spiritual teacher because I did not agree that filing bankruptcy, giving away all of our money and living in a mountain shed was the highest path to God, rejected by my husband for the same reason, losing nearly everything I held of value except for my son but including my mother, I realized that if I believed I was worthless then it was so.

This was an unacceptable outcome. More than that, it could NOT be true, because NO human being is worthless. NO ONE is not woven of the same divine fabric that constructs all things. My beautiful baby boy, finally sleeping, was created in my womb. Surely HE was divine, and therefore so am I. So where was the flaw in the formula of my life? Why had it taken this long, this much suffering to arrive at the right question?

The white enamel stove top gleamed up at me in a coaxing of neutral palette, as if to say look here, this blank canvas is your blank canvas. I scratched for a moment at a piece that had chipped, where the black metal underneath showed through. The silence of three am crowded my senses as my hushed ancestors stood slightly back. Back and forth I smoothed my finger across the chipped piece, the stove top accepting my slow and thoughtful ebony rub.

Love does not have to equal loss. Love can equal love.

I stood up a little taller.

Love equals love. And I am that.

I took a deep breath.

I am worth loving.

Sigh.

I am going to let my love RIP.

When I was a little girl the first insult I remember was hurled by my sister. She called me generous. I ran into the house crying and tugged at my mother’s skirt yelling, “Lois called me GENEROUS!” I did not understand why my mother chuckled. I did not know what the word meant, but I did understand that I was here to love, to give and to serve.

Standing in the dark at the white enamel stove I found the missing piece. I may have been chipped and marred but the palette was blank. It was time to fill it with my new definition of love, one that could never be disrupted.

In the years since this revelation I have birthed a community spirit in myself and hopefully in others that has healed my heart. And for the first time I understand the meaning of faith. Just as courage is not the absence of fear, it is to feel the fear and walk forward anyway – so conversely is faith not the embodiment of trust and connection at all times, but instead to always move forward even in its absence. Looking back now, in all of the years I felt a crisis of faith I realize that I was always walking toward the light. Faith is THAT; feeling the loss of faith and ever growing toward the light anyway. It never left me; it was with me all of the time.

Now thirteen, my son has grown to be a good young man with a kind and loving heart, (although in the blink of an eye it seems we have traded diapers and dependencies for skateboards and sarcasm.) Seeing who he has become has healed my heart. I can honestly say I am happy, healthy and free. My mother taught me my first valuable lesson about how to survive the shattering of illusion: stay calm, feel and trust. Look into the eyes of the Divine Mother and move forward with grace. By diving to the bottom of a deep well of despair I was able to retrieve the diamond of my own heart and reconcile the absolute knowing that it is possible to live in love. In fact, it is up to us.

“Souls love. That’s what souls do. Egos don’t, but souls do. Become a soul, look around, and you’ll be amazed-all the beings around you are souls. Be one, see one.”
– Ram Dass

TOOLS FOR GROWTH

“I would like my life to be a statement of love and compassion–and where it isn’t, that’s where my work lies.”
– Ram Dass

“Ditto.”
– Christina Alexa

The portal to power is in the moment (Atha = Now). What we do with reaction determines whether we give our power away or claim our power. This requires the ability to endure FEELING without distraction, expression, suppression, denial, blame, shame or projection.

Witness
To observe from a state of neutrality without judgment or qualification.

Tapas

To burn in the fire of purification. Become austere in our process. An emotion arises, it IS and it dissolves on its own when unfettered with techniques of distraction, manipulation, projection, blame, shame, suppression or even expression. To feel in purity and entirety without trying to control the feeling transforms reaction to empowerment. Our vulnerability is our greatest strength.

Let Go
To release attachment both to any stage of the process as well as to the outcome.

Insight
In the wake of tapas there is always insight. When we resist the desire to control a feeling and instead remain present and allowing of the intensity of emotion, the feeling is “heard” – it is validated and it will eventually dissolve. In its dissolution there is space for wisdom and knowing which naturally follows. Rather than seeking the source of patterns or wounds, instead feel each feeling in the present without judgment or control. It is through the feeling journey that the dots are connected and meaning is revealed. This is the hero’s journey in which we dive deep to retrieve the gems of empowerment that have been lost. Once reclaimed they cannot be taken away.

YAMAS & NIYAMAS
Observances for conscious living.

• Yamas: Ourselves in relationships with others / how we choose to treat others.
• Ahimsa: Non-harming
• Satya: Truth
• Asteya: Non-Stealing
• Brahmacharya: Moderation
• Aparigraha: Non-possessiveness
• Niyamas: How we are in relationship to self.
• Saucha: Purity
• Santosha: Contentment
• Tapas: Austerity
• Swadhyaya: Self-study and knowledge
• Ishvara Pranidhana:: Surrender to God

Importance of Recognizing Core Beliefs that do not Serve Us
As a child we might absorb the core belief that we are unworthy. Perhaps this was impressed upon us by our mirrors in life at that time – our caregivers or others – or perhaps it was our subtle integration of how a primary parent unconsciously felt about themselves. Navigating through life feeling unworthy about oneself is difficult, it interrupts the natural order of divine love. Challenges are presented over and over when we feel badly about ourselves because we are creating an innate resistance to synchronizing with the grace of creation. For example, if I am consistently self-deprecating in my thoughts I will not attract a positive mirror to myself.

We reap what we sow. When actions and choices are motivated by self-hatred or dislike, the results of our actions will return in kind, and this can be very painful yet the pain presents the opportunity to change the thoughts and our beliefs that do not serve us. Through practicing witness consciousness and non-judgment, we begin to align more deeply with a harmonious understanding of ourselves as connected to the greater tapestry of divine creation. Our authentic self is revealed.

REACTION MODEL FOR HEALING

Our power lies in the present.

We spend entirely too much time trying to avoid the present moment, because living there is too…(fill in the blank): painful, boring, vulnerable, challenging…The greatest truths in life are the most simple AND the most powerful. The profound nature of personal power is not as elusive as we might think. We have only to arrive in the present to embody the truth of our own power.

Did you ever wonder what it really means to become “centered”? Becoming centered does not necessarily mean being at peace, feeling an abundance of love and compassion. Becoming centered means settling into the present and facing what is activated within us in that moment. What physical sensations are with you right now in this moment? What emotion? As your mind attempts to take you to the past and the future, be here now (thanks Ram Dass).

Our power is only available in the present. Our power is not accessible in the past or the future.

The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Everything that we feel in the present moment is part of our power.

Everything.

Okay let’s make a list of your potential arguments about this. Here are some of the feelings you might encounter in the present moment that you might not equate with power: fear, anger, hate, jealousy, insecurity, resistance, resentment, victimization, desperation…recognize any of these?

EVERYTHING we meet in the present moment is part of our power, on one condition. We have to own it.

Disowning Our Shadow Material
What is NOT part of our power is what we might do with what we feel if we don’t own it. If we give away what we are feeling, we no longer own it. If we project, blame, shame, suppress, express, distract we are giving away our power to someone or something. When we project our anger at someone for instance, we are projectile vomiting our power far, far away. And then we get angry at the object of our projection because they now have a piece of our power. Meanwhile, they might be innocently ignorant of our entire drama, only to be side swiped by our unexpected anger.

In order to own, we must simply FEEL.

The kindest thing that we can do, when on the receiving end of someone else’s projected shadow material is to not accept it. Take nothing personally. NOTHING.

Everything that feels personal ISN’T.

If we accept a projection from another and claim it as part of our truth we are actually taking ownership of another’s power (I bet you never thought of it that way).

Reaction as a Route to Power
If our power lies in the present moment, what if what we are feeling the present moment is reaction? If we choose to do tapas, to witness what we feel without the need to control it, to allow the reactive feeling to arise and dissolve on its own, we take ownership and allow insight to follow. Through this simple act, which may take every fiber of our being to endure, we reignite a sense of dignity that is lost when we avoid taking responsibility for our reactions. Reactions are not bad, they are barometers that something is up, some button is being pressed. Reactions are indicators that we have an open doorway available to us, a laundry chute directly to the wound. Dive in, do the laundry and chances are you will find some money in the pockets of those old worn jeans you forgot about. Through taking ownership of what we feel we find Liberation.

Changing our Karma

Yoga defines karma as action. If all action inspires an equal and opposite reaction, the motivation behind our actions determine the quality of that equal and opposite reaction.

When we give without expectation of outcome our good deeds come back ten-fold. When we give with strings attached, strings come back (ten-fold). The key to transcending victimization and embracing magic is to become masterful at witnessing our motivations behind all actions.

Perpetuating difficult karma is the result of not taking ownership of our reactions. (See chart). We are completely entitled to do this as often as we choose for as many lifetimes as we would like, until we are tired of running in place and perpetuating the cycle of pain that is the inevitable result of believing in the illusion that our disownment of shadow material can have any other outcome.

“Be Here Now.” (Ram Dass)

Feel, own, dive deep, let go and allow insight to follow. Take the keys to power which lie within. They are there. Trust me, this short cut to empowerment is possible and we are strong enough. If we are strong enough to endure repeated karmic cycles of difficulty, we are more than strong enough to be present and feel.

Your power is yours. Take it.