I admire .....

I’m sitting here listening to 90’s music and wondering how…. how do artists whether they be musicians, painters, poets or writers find the space and talent to bring out into the world a piece of them. How do they? So many, not all, are struggling with the same pains we are and most, not all, don’t grow out of that pain. Is it because they agreed some time long ago to voice our mutual pain, joy,, hopes, dreams, or do they speak for themselves?

These are the people who should be rewarded in plenty. Some do make millions and piss it away. Aren’t they mirroring what society does? The Bards in ages past were the conscious of society. They told the stories, offered their life in front of Kings, and reminded societies of their ills. Who are our 21st century bards?

Are you a Bard? Are you willing to offer to society its broken mirror? Are you willing to tell a better story? Can you delve into yourself, embrace your wounding and show the way? Are you willing to walk past those who offer a bypass into your freedom? It isn’t easy. Hell it’s much easier to jump on the spiritual bus and ride it to the next station of comfort. Yet you listen to the lyrics, read the words of the poet, cry at the novelists story, or the media artists creation. All the work they offer is for us to grab onto and bring it into the world. Their drums beat out our fear. Their words incite a passion and courage. What are we going to do with it all?

Can we become the bard? Can we speak our truth? Can we, as we offer our own unique, quiet gifts help to give rise to those who come to receive? Can we sit in our office cubes and share words that will help cement in our co-workers a sense that they are being seen? Do we stop the hatred? Or are we afraid of what we could lose? Fair enough…… not really.

Everything we dream can only happen if we bring action into it. Speaking bardic words without a willingness to lose it all doesn’t bring a lasting change. We share these concepts with each other yet our actions often speak differently. I'm far from being perfect. God knows if I was, as many hear me say “I wouldn’t be here” yet I try to be better tomorrow than I was today. Most importantly I know I would give my life for change. Change to an accepting, loving, intuitive society.

There is no single person who has the answers. There is one essence that can lead you to your answers. It is your soul. Your soul knows exactly how to treat each person, protect you, offer guidance, and comfort when obstacles enter your path. Your soul is your Bard. It understands the long forgotten ancient ways. It understands the artists of our worlds lamentations and driving beats. Our souls have their own song. They own soul sanguine. Soul speaks through them.

We listen to their words…. why can’t we listen to our own soul? Every one of us are bards. Speak your truth quietly or loudly when called for, from your soul heart, sharing your wounded heart and change the world. If not for you for you children and theirs.

I’m the one in ten

A number on the list

I am the one in ten

Even though I don’t exist

Nobody knows me

Even though I’m always there

A statistical a reminder

Of a world that doesn’t care

Lyrics from UB40 One in Ten

Traveling on ~

Teri

Warriors Cry Real Tears ..... Too

It is my walks in nature where I find my inspiration.  I don't think I am alone in this occurring.  We all have those times when we really let go of our daily grind.  Nature just seems to be the perfect 'spot' for it all to slip away.

Recently I was struck by a thought that sprang to mind as I wandered away from the maddening football crowd.  The noise drifted further and further leaving me present to the dusty trail and the minuscule amount of others joining me.  Contemplating on the gorgeous blue skyline with its wisps of promising clouds the thought of how my years of overwhelming sensitivity had awakened this fierce fortitude kept pushing at me to not be ignored.  This unwavering ability to reach deep into the darkest depths of others lives, soul loss, and pain.  How the fortitude had supported me in finding the strength to heal my darker wounds, releasing this amazing Joan of Arc aspect.  This Kali fire that had laid hidden deep now fueled my very being.  Somehow I had become the warrior I was destined to be this lifetime.  

Early on this extreme sensitivity laid me open for all to see, to be trampled on, to suck me dry energetically, it became a constant burden yet I could not discard it upon the heap and walk away.  As I walked through this life I was reminded daily by others that I wore my heart on my sleeve, to stop the crying for god sake, suck it up, and the best one was, "Oh here we go again," echoed through my head.  I could barely stomach large crowds still not my favorite without gobs of protection.  I didn't get sick or have a headache instead I grew restless, fidgety, a claustrophobic fence grew around me and I would dart.  Often I remained outside by myself literally and figuratively.  I would play with the neighborhood children but only when I wanted and always with an escape route.  Somehow I knew if I was ever cornered or someone I cared about was bullied, I would come out swinging.  

I liked being around people.  It was what occurred that drove me crazy.  It was the pain I felt from them, the cries for help, the wounded soul that begged me to listen.  I didn't know how to protect myself.  Still I helped, oh yes, I helped.  I listened, encouraged, walked them to solutions, laughed making them see the funny side, and then I went home tired and drained.  I carried all the wounding on my shoulders and in my heart.  I became their little angel.  I grew tired and aged past my years.

Overtime I learned how to protect myself.  I relinquished their burdens and stopped carrying them.  I discovered how to help them help themselves.  The turning point was when I finally embraced that I was a warrior.  Finding the finesse of the soul sword and how to deftly wield it on behalf of others broke the crack wide open on my extreme sensitivity.  Most who know me now have a hard time seeing me as the sensitive introvert.  What is apparent to them is my ability to kick ass and take names, my gregarious ways, and pull to have deep conversations.  If they look closely they will see the quiet one watching all the interchanges, feeling the ebb and flow of the energy, seeing the real story, and listening very closely ~ the warrior at work.

As we have lived our lives in the company of others we begin to perceive ourselves through their eyes.  We forget how to decipher the light + dark sides of our essence.  We mistake for instance our gregarious nature as a conflict to our desire for solitude.  We don't see either of them as pluses in our relating to others.  We think of them as a battleground for fitting in.  When we tweak our view just a bit our solitude becomes the place for figuring out what our gregarious nature just learned.  Why the person we just met is hurting deep within.  The person whose presence is pulling our energy away creating headaches, or sickness, or claustrophobia; the physical manifestations of a very sensitive introvert.  

We are not being asked to fix or lay down any aspect of our true soul nature.  It is up to us though to configure those aspects and find a home place for our sensitivity and desire for aloneness.  These are gifts and like all gifts sometimes their brilliance hurts our human eyes.  Remember it is okay to wear sunglasses inside.

We all know spiritual warriors and for many of us our soul song line is the warrior path.  It is expected that the warrior will stand and face the music for the tribe.  They travel into the depths of despair battling for our soul pieces and protecting the Truth.  Swords of valor, eyes of steel, and hearts all encompassing become the warrior creed for all who walk this soul song line.  

There is a piece seldom shown except in introverted moments.  It is what becomes the badge of courage.

Spiritual warriors cry real tears...... Too

Traveling on...... The Soul Traveler xoxo