top of page
  • Writer's picturephiamma

Still Here

I want to run away. It always takes me by surprise. For most of my life I've run full on towards whatever was waiting. I'm known to be fearless, impulsive, creative and generally filled with joy. But lately. Hmmm. You're thinking; Covid, chaos, rapid change...DUH; who doesn't want to run away? This is new for me. As an Aquarian, as a human who has been seeking consciousness and understanding from an early age, one who has been in contact with our Galactic Family since the age of 9 (more on this later) I know in my cells, in my heart, in my intellect, WHY WE ARE HERE. I can't prove my beliefs. Nor am I interested in convincing anyone. What I know, what I've seen, what I've been told, what I've experienced, feeds my guiding force and strengthens daily. And yet...

I am going gently with myself. It's clear to me that I am birthing yet again; and as I know; literally, physically, and personally, birthing is labor. You conceive, you grow, you prepare and then something new and wondrous manifests. I am in my seventh year of this new being. It started with The Great Flood of 2015, waters so high, dark and fast that my house looked like a floating home in a lake. Then my twenty-six year marriage ended with a not unexpected yet painful death, leaving me struggling to stay afloat, pun intended ;). I mourned.

Over the course of the next few years, humans who were loved by me, my family, and my community, reemerged into Non-physical. And my four-leggeds left too, returning to SOURCE, in a way I imagine to be more knowing than us. Fourteen of them. Ages 21-82. My altar filled as the door revolved and with each one my heart was cracked wide open. Grief. I know it well. We are friends. Saying goodbye to a physicalized love one is the hardest thing I know. I toast them often. I look at their faces daily and send a thank you and hello; and often I'm answered. My capacity to listen and hear with my non-physicalized family improves with practice. I know that we are eternal and that once an I AM is formed it is conscious forever. Still, I can't prove it. I must be content with my knowing.

I am going gently with myself. It's easy for me to witness the magnanimity of others and am honored to support them. I love bumping up against the LIGHT of others. I admire the journey of self. Frankly, I'm in awe. So why isn't it as easy to bring this home to my self ? I like myself. I'm grateful for my journey. No regrets. I know myself better than ever. So why the feeling of flight? It's not entirely new, this feeling. I know the flip side of flight, wherein I manifest a dream and take off. I've lived many of my dreams with much joy and pleasure! I know, too, the healthy need to withdraw, a skill I'm glad to own. This one is different.

There is a saying that, "The moment before birth is the most dangerous." Two times I lived the final PUSH followed by the birth of a new human; my two sons who showed me a love beyond measure, and still do. I often dip into those moments when I'm seeking courage. As I approach this current gateway, slowly and steadily widening and expanding, trusting that my body knows what to do, I ask, "Who are you?" This GREAT UNKNOWN feels big. Perhaps, there is the sense that I will change and not know myself on the other side. Perhaps, I am mourning a loss of all I've gathered thus far. Perhaps, I don't know how much more loss I can bear. This Gateway looms. It beckons.

The pull is fierce.

As is the pull of physicalized reality, especially now. Our society is in the throes of a great evolution. As humans, our next step is Consciousness. It's complicated, divisive, chaotic. Great change requires destruction, dissolution, clarity only achieved through contrast. We are splitting. It hurts. It's mean. It's bloody. It's painful. Needs must. This is our way through. As we choose our differing beliefs, we fall into sides that feel extreme in the undertaking. I am on the side of beneficence. I am on the side of abundance. I am on the side of Earth. I am on the side of sovereignty, safety and care for all of it, all of us.

But life is lived. Day to day and these mighty thoughts do not pay my bills, ease the suffering of others, or insulate me from what is going on. Nor does it allow me to pretend. I still have work to do. Life must be lived. It's fierce out there. Our collective split is hard work. How does one maintain an authentic life in the face of such madness? How does one land in the joy that is our birthright? How does one keep looking forward when the present reality is so compelling? How does one choose to forge their own way? I ask myself these questions daily. More often, I want to curl up in a small dark place and lick my wounds or run away to some distant land where life feels simpler and rhythmic and safe.

My scars are my life. I am glad of them. They speak to experiences uniquely mine. I've learned so much. I should not be as surprised as I am when they remind me of what knowledge is available to me. But I'm human. Huwomyn. I know I chose to be here. I know my soul is having great fun and still...sigh. And I'm still here. I could leave. I will leave at one point, this is inevitable...Nah. If it's not an absolute YES, it's a no. I'm still here, and glad of it.

5 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

There Was A Woman

Once upon a time, there was a woman. She had traveled many decades on this planet. She had fought and loved and laughed and created many things. She had made mistakes and grown from them. She learned


bottom of page