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

Fireside Chat with Crones ~ February

Having decided to change the format of these wonderful chats to the Equinox & Solstice, I found myself missing my monthly creativity.  Today I sat down, communed with spirit and compiled a short video expressing the wisdom, serenity and love of our Elders in Nature.  Enjoy!

~ The Soul Traveler

And with the wind comes .....

Saturday night - and I find myself drawn to the computer - as I am sitting here typing I listen to the giggles and screams of grade schoolers visiting my neighbor downstairs.  Such fun! Teasing her as they call her grandmother. The weather begins to change to the threat of a storm, much like last night and I wonder will we be the recipients of the storm tonight or be spared again?  I am still learning how to read the weather here.  In Colorado I grew up learning about the weather.  It was important to know it so you weren't caught unawares and could avoid danger. At the same time it was more than just sticking your hand out to see if it got wet.  It became a contemplation, a conversation, and sometimes a communion.

Even now as I type I have turned the music off that was quietly playing so I can hear the sound of the wind as it passes through the trees.  The pines have a song of freshness, the cottonwoods their brittle leaves add the staccato, the poplar pulls you into its whisper as the leaves show you their underside, their willingness to be vulnerable.  Some trees stand silently allowing the others their performance and then they all join together.  Twirling, moving, bowing, touching each other, giving the wind freedom.  Giving the wind a voice.  There is the rush and the pause, the rush and the pause just before the burst.  How I love the metaphor!  They show me the rhythm they experience is the same as mine.  Some times when I am busy being present to whatever is happening in the moment for me, my path is crossed by what I call a needling or issue.  They generally appear when my ego is sparked by something it thinks needs to take center stage.  Ego, as wind rushes up to my focus, rustling my calm demeanor causing me to respond.  Is it a twirl and bend or is it a resistance and crack?  As the tree has choices in its response to the wind, so do I.  My soul has shown me that moving with the wind rather than resisting the issue creates a rhythm that allows the weather to appear and move on.  Embracing the wind or moving with it allows me to decipher the essence of the issue.  Am I really upset about the driver who just pulled out in front of me or is there a deeper story here? Is it only about not being seen or is there something deeper?   Going deeper with my soul always takes me to the burst of release.

What else am I learning from watching the weather?  Is it only about issues?  What about the shared movement of the trees?  For today might the metaphor be about dancing together enjoying the moment and the shared experience.  How is that present in my life?  The family below eating dinner and sharing tall tales of feats of courage - giggling together when caught. And myself enjoying their play and togetherness feeling their communal energy as it moves around us.

Or how about the days when it is sweltering (relatively speaking the West's version of sweltering on a scale of 1-10 in the South is a -20) but sweltering none the less.  What you hope for is rain .... and when you see that there is nary a cloud within a 1000 miles ...."could we just have a breeze please?"   What benefit is a breeze?  It can come so slowly and then move past in a wisp.  As you are sweltering with the issue at hand what benefit is it to create a breeze?  Perhaps a moment to pause, feel some relief and maybe allow a new perspective.  Perhaps a moment to be still and not fret.  Or perhaps the realization that just the request for a breeze gave you the nudge to let go of the story.

Wind in all its forms is a change maker.  The gall force winds of a hurricane don't tiptoe in, they come raging in, grabbing your attention and you know your life is about to change!  But the breeze can trick you into thinking 'ah there is nothing to worry about' and within a split second you life just changed.

I love the wind