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I return to myself after a long hiatus After having been forcefully severed from my inner being, by offhand and mindless comments. Like this poem by TherapyInWords on Instagram illustrates:

Here is my spoken word impression of it.

Listen to Words are seeds by @therapy-in-words by Skye808 #np on #SoundCloud

As I strip layer after layer of societal pressure, family obligations and misconstrued concepts based on the seeds of words, I’m crawling out of my bottomless pit and into the world again. I am connecting to what I love, what makes me feel alive.

My meetings have been with midwives of the soul, reminding me to look for what is the highest, I am finding again what I have lost. It’s a genuine soul retrieval. Parts of my brain stored in dusty theses are being reinserted into my cyborg brain, the books are opened up and shared. I’m not asleep anymore, waking up from my precariate induced coma. There is value in what I do and love, although it’s not always economic, the value is increased tenfold every time it is shared through conversation or when esteemed minds read my words and processes. I am so grateful for this.

They say: When you take one step towards Spirit, Spirit takes a thousand towards you. That’s what I experience now, as wishes evaporate and come forth into knowing what is needed and beings arrive in my life who bring the seeds to fruition. Healing. Healing is my One Goal right now, while I find direction and move forward, ridding myself of the baggage that has been wearing me down. Genuinely thoughts and feelings that no longer serve me, I offer it all up to Spirit and to the Earth to be transformed.

I am finding.. My faith. Again. And again. Not in a transcendent male God, like Santa Claus with a beard, but in immanence. The One of Many Faces, shapes and forms, Inanna, the divine feminine and masculine within and without, the Buddha/Christ presence, the silent observer, Kali Ma, Amaterasu and Aramatèna, the full twelve dimensions of our Earth.

Faith is found in the innocence drawn on the faces of young children and the concentrated yet so different gazes of my two cats. The kindness of the sun as it touches my face. The pristine white snow as a sudden blessing.

I have been having meetings with people touched by Spirit. While I used to have a little fear of people older than me, my stern faced grandmother might have been the cause (‘she doesn’t like children’ was once said to me), most of my meetings these weeks are with people decades older than myself. And I give thanks for their insight and their wisdom. I feel they are not all that different from me, seekers in a human form, simply with more experience in this particular lifetime. I’m grateful for their stories, their guidance and how their life has made them resilient. How they have been able to let go of the inessential and have chosen wisdom over material pursuits. I admire all of them greatly and feel so blessed to have this wider perspective. Life doesn’t end when you are 35 or 40. Nor 50 or 60. It continues and goes on, even after your death.

On Monday I am meeting the spirit of my grandmother, quite literally she sought contact with me through an old friend of hers who contacted me on Facebook. The Goddess works in mysterious ways. I’m not sure if I will really throw all of my agnosticism out of the door and start genuinely and truly believing in conscious life after death of the soul, but I might. I will keep you posted.

Anthropologist, Mother, Yogi, Chocolate addict and writer

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