Sometimes I feel like a lighthouse.
Lights on. Shining bright. Beaming. Lights off.
Lights on. Shining bright. Beaming. Lights off.
Cue in foghorn here.
When the light is on, I feel in the flow. Clear. Confident. High on life. Full on Shaman Girl shiny.
And then I encounter a little crevice within me. I’m sure you know those places. Afraid to speak my truth. Confused about what I’m feeling and why. Doubting a decision.
That’s lights out.
Knowing this pattern – sometimes I’m bright, sometimes my light is dim, distorted or just plain worn out – doesn’t make it easier. Knowing that I’m doing this to myself. Ouch. Judgment kicks in.
You know the voice of the Big Meany? Sounds like this:
You’re on a path of awareness for Christ’s sake! Look at what you’re doing to yourself. You can see it and STILL you do it? What is your problem?
I watch myself spin round, round. I cry. I walk. I breathe. I talk it out. I take a hot bath. I cry some more.
Sometimes the light pops back on, full beam. Sometimes it gradually grows brighter and stronger. And sometimes the bulb explodes, ships lost their way in the darkness, the fog rolls in, the waves… well, you get the picture.
While sometimes I’d love to just wallow in my victim-y, small, dark spot, there is no denying the light. This light illuminates all the crevices. Always, in all ways.
For some cuckoo reason, I’ve signed up for being on this Shaman Girl path. It’s a journey of being light, being a beacon, guiding the way – mostly for my own self. I call to my true sparkly self over and over again. The truth! You-hoo! Truth of who you are! Light. Love. Come on out!
I can come kicking and screaming or I can surrender.
Cause this light that we all have within us is going to do its job to show us any dusty corner that’s not love. Not acceptance. Not compassion.
Sigh.
I would love to be all love and light here, Shaman Girls. But that wouldn’t be real or true or even helpful. So I’m going to keep telling it like it is.
Some days beaming bright. Sometimes lights off.
But always having faith in that internal beacon of light. Eventually it pierces the fog. Eventually the dawn will come.
Love wins every time. It does.
Keep turning your face toward the sun.
Loving it all,
M
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