evolution

SoulCollage® – Council Suit – Becoming Universal

Claire evolution, SoulCollage® , , , , 0 Comment
SoulCollage® – Council Suit – Becoming Universal

The political landscape has become ugly, divisive and uncivil in recent years. Those in power are hungry for more power and are more than willing to trample on anyone who gets in the way. Money and greed rule and the ranks of the disenfranchised grow larger every day. The powerful paint themselves as the victims, while the true victims are dismissed as villains, conspirators and liars. Every form of protest, #BLM, #MeToo, #TakeAKnee, marches for gun control in the wake of school shootings, and women marching in pussy hats, is met with derision and dismissed as unimportant, fake news or, frighteningly, as something that ought to be illegal by the powers that be. In the aftermath of the debacle of the Kavanaugh hearings and confirmation, and with the midterm elections coming soon, I have been feeling distressed, disheartened and disenchanted. Some days it just sucks the life out of me.

With all these feelings roiling in me, I consulted my SoulCollage® deck. I asked who had something they wanted me to know today and this is the card I drew.

Becoming Universal – Council Suit

“Here’s what the card had to say:

I am the emergence of the new – half formed, half possibility. This likely feels incredibly uncomfortable for you. This is the stage where the imaginal cells are taking over, rewiring human DNA, and the old forms are being dissolved – devoured.

This messy, mucky place can be distressing. Trust the process. Trust in the emergence of the new. Trust in the light that is revealing all the dark shadows. Trust that the light is stronger than the shadows. Turn yourself toward the light. See how the jeweled wings are already emerging, ready to fly you all home. Ready to carry you up the evolutionary ladder to your best and truest expression of self and of humanity.

The chrysalis is breaking open – trust the process. Allow the old to dissolve and be burned away by the good that is coming.

Little One, how could this possibly happen “out there” without also happening within you? Do your part. Do your own inner work AND speak your truth “out there.” Become a midwife on the team of midwives already at work holding space for the messy birth of change. Do your part. This is what you long for. This is where your restlessness resides.

New Life Pushes Up

Claire art, evolution, transformation , , , 8 Comments
New Life Pushes Up

ExpressiveArtsBreakthroughPolitical upheaval, economic uncertainty, bigotry, angry rhetoric. And it’s hotter than hell outside.

It all weighs heavily on me as I drive to my weekly “Mindfulness in Art” class.

“Today we’ll go a little deeper,” the teacher says, “letting whatever wants to rise up spill out onto the paper. Not from up here,” she continues, tapping her forehead with her index finger. “Don’t think. Feel.”

The brush moves in my hand, collecting color and laying it down. Jagged black lines rend the empty white field of paper.

My stomach hurts. My head resists. I don’t want to be here this morning. I should be home writing. I wish I hadn’t signed up for this class. This is a waste of time.

The brush keeps moving. Bruises rise in black and blue, like mountains too tired to stand any longer. Parched, cracked earth mutates into broken bones. The ravaged multitudes cry enough! no more! as flames of collapse and destruction blaze hotter and higher.

None of this comes from “up here” in my head. The brush moves first, the story comes after.

Fifty dead in an attack on a gay nightclub. Two more black men die at the hands of police. Terrorists attack an airport in Istanbul. California burns while West Virginia floods. Deadly tornado in China and a super typhoon bearing down on Taiwan. The presidential election resembles a circus act as we once more contemplate our civil duty to vote for the lesser of two evils.

Somewhere above this battered broken plain of pain and dysfunction a light shines. It beckons. New green life pushes up through the torn earth, growing from the wounded place, watered with our tears.