Usually the monthly workbooks are just for those who have enrolled in the year program, but January's is available as a free preview on their website. Usually I also lock my responses to friends-only, as it can be somewhat personal, but this time I'm choosing to share as I go, so that people who are curious can get a deeper sense of what the mystery school work can be. This is just my experience of it; every person brings their own story and needs and their own interpretation. It's part of why I find doing this work in community to be valuable; there are so many awesome ideas.
I've talked to many people about this program (this is my fourth year in it, and I love it) and yet you rarely get to see what it is I'm actually talking about. Well, here's a glimpse.
I'll probably start a separate post for February as even just one month's work can get long. We'll see. The rest of this post is tucked under an lj-cut to save your friends' page from the length. I never know how long it's going to get, since I think through my answers as I'm writing; this stuff isn't planned in advance. Nor is it edited for brevity. :)
I'm going to set off quotes from the packet in blockquotes like this just below.
All of our stories begin before we enter life. Do you believe that? This story does. Here’s
another thing story... myth... dream... allows us to do: try things on for size. Not clothes but history and
heartache, alternate endings, unborn beginnings, fantasy and belief. How about this belief: These things are set before we are born; they are the agreement we make with the soul of our times.
If you truly believed that even the hardest things in your life are there in some way by your own choice, because they serve who you are becoming or because you are the best person, at this moment, to serve in the midst of hardship... what would change?
I don't know that I made an 'agreement' before I was born, but certainly the circumstances I was born into, and the year, and the location, had a strong way of shaping who I was to become. Learning to program a computer as I was learning to read; running wild through the forest and corn fields discovering a love of nature, sitting alone in an apple tree dreaming of someday having a friend... What would become my strengths in adulthood were places of deep stories when I was young. Too smart to fit in at a small rural school, too poor to go elsewhere. And yet, if we'd had the money for me to participate in after school sports, perhaps I'd have been too busy to fully develop my programming skills which helped make me who I am today. Perhaps I wouldn't have so deeply developed my sense of who I am and my emotional strength to stand alone. So many places my path could have been different, but I got this one.
And finding the Grove itself; I came because of my feelings, my loneliness and need for a community in which I could heal. And I found that healing, and more, and leadership training that is serving me well this year as I step up in other parts of my life. That's not to say that kids bullying me years ago was in any way a good thing, but rather, that me accepting that hole in my experiences, and my feelings and needs around it, led me to opportunities for growth and love and learning. Taking the opportunities has brought me blessings.
When I accept that circumstances in my life are what they are... usually my patience to deal with them improves. Sometimes I find my strength to make efforts to change them, if it's reasonable. Mostly I stop distancing myself from "what is" by escaping into dreams (daydreams, books/movies, other avoidance patterns) and notice, "Is this something I can do something about?" "Is this feeling awkward because really I am needed and I should act?" Sometimes it helps me stop being blind to what's been in front of me all along.
or because you are the best person, at this moment, to serve in the midst of hardship... what would change?
In one situation, where someone special to me really needed me, but circumstances were hard... I had a hard time believing that I was the right person to serve the situation. Anyone but me. I'm not good enough. I don't know what to do. I can't fix anything. I can't make those phone calls, those decisions. I'm just a kid inside. Not me. Not like this. This isn't right. And the situation worsened; darker and darker, until finally I hit my own breaking point. "It can't end like this. I won't let you. This isn't how the story ends! No!" "No one but me is this close to the situation. No one but me has the deep understanding of what is needed. No one but me, because I am already serving it." I realized it, and I stepped up. I "did it afraid" - the things that were needed, the things I didn't think I could learn to do. Scary responsibilities, tasks, hard decisions. I had no idea whether it would be useful, but I knew I had to try. If things don't work out, let it be because I tried my best and it wasn't enough, not because I didn't try. I changed that day; not a child anymore. And eventually, after a very long time, what I had done was enough; success came.
What changes when I realize that I am the right fit to serve amidst hardship is that I realize I belong, I realize I am strong, and I understand better that my role matters, my choices matter, my actions matter. My presence matters. When I know that I matter, it's easier to get up tired and worn and keep doing what needs to be done. It's easier to treat myself with value, to get the food and rest I need for the long haul, to speak up when I am reaching my limits and get support from those around me. I put more value on my growth and learning, as I realize my skills (including interpersonal ones) matter more to those around me.
I notice that I also pressure myself more. Sometimes that encourages me to keep growing, and sometimes it just gets tiring. I have a harder time being gentle with myself over my mistakes, and as a result I have a harder time being gentle with others about theirs. I don't like that, but I notice it happens. I can moderate that impact by being careful to get enough rest and food and exercise so I am less stressed. I notice that sometimes I forget that there are others around who can help, and I can take on too much alone, when if I'd just slow down a bit and share the opportunity, others would gladly step up to participate. What can feel like a burden to me may well be a learning opportunity for someone else.
Which is more important? The “truth” of what we believe, or the way what we believe shapes our lives? Is this maybe a truth religion has known all along? Someone must plan the coincidences. Is that why we made up the gods and goddesses in the first place? Or is it simply how we recognized them?
I work with myth and story to understand myself because I find it sheds light on the patterns of expectations and behavior that I fall into habitually. What I expect from the world, and what I believe about myself, so strongly shapes my reactions to situations that it can make me defensive and useless if I don't realize what I'm reacting to. I notice that, when I get upset, often what I am reacting to is an implied story about low self worth, rather than whatever the factual disagreement of the day is. My anger comes from a fear that someone will destroy my image, my standing in community, and thus my sense of belonging, safety, and value. The reality is usually that others are far more generous of spirit than that, and it's safe for me to disagree, and I am still respected even if I'm occasionally wrong. ;)
And yet in the moment when I think I'm being challenged or insulted, it's sometimes hard to remember that. Somewhere deep inside, there is still a knot from years of bullying that sneaks in my mind and whispers, "You are powerless, you are worthless, no one wants you." No matter how I try to shake it off, it is a belief that still shapes my life sometimes. Yet, knowing that, I can sometimes catch my reaction before it comes out of my mouth and temper my response and use my words in a more generous and trusting way. And I can let the reality of now sink in, instead of coloring it with my past experiences.
What if someone told you it was fine to want? To desire? Better than fine. Fundamental. What if someone told you that the pain we secretly fear lies waiting on the other side of desire – the pain that makes us hide from... deny... despise... our wanting – that pain doesn't come from passion. It comes from passionate attachment to form.
Clymene wants love, but she wants love to look and feel a certain way. Someone who loves her stands on the other side of a veil made of enchantment and awkwardness. If she were not so attached to the form of her fantasy love, would she have been able to see that veil, reach through it, bring him through?
Iasus wants a child, a second chance. Salvation. But he thinks that salvation comes only in the form of a son, like he was, whom he can love, like he was not. His attachment to the form of his salvation led him to damnation instead.
Not like this! When has that been you? When have you thrown away a gift because you didn't like the wrapping?
There is a saying I heard somewhere that in a particular language, the word for "crisis" is also the word for "opportunity." Many times I pushed away what I felt was impending crisis, because I felt inadequate to handling the challenge. Sometimes I stepped into the midst of the swirl, and then felt so overcome by the stresses, the currents, the pushes and pulls, that I got lost, and forgot my own strength, and reacted instead of responding. I forgot that I had choice in how to respond to the circumstances.
It's easy to say that I pushed away stressful situations. It's much harder for me to think about times when I pushed away a "gift." Me? But I would accept all of them... but have I?
When I was in high school, I worked in the computer lab, and did sysadmin work on the servers as well. It was a time for learning, not just technical skills but also leadership and teamwork and cooperation and communication. To say I had little experience in groups would be an understatement; I was largely alone until I got to that school. Many times, I wanted to learn or do something Big and Interesting that was going on with server work, and yet I largely didn't speak up, didn't ask, didn't push my way in. I wanted to learn, but not if it meant "being pushy or demanding" or "possibly making someone uncomfortable."
Looking back, I realize I could have been far more outgoing, assertive, and still polite, and I probably would have had the opportunity to be more involved and learn more. I engaged less than fully with that gift, that opportunity, not because of the wrapping it came in, but because of the wrapping of who I thought -I- was or would have to be. I was attached to the form of MYSELF, and not ready to accept that I could change, that there was more than one way to serve my values and sense of self, and that my own form was more flexible than I thought.
I notice a big pattern with that in my life. Most of the opportunities that I turn down are because they would change my self-image, my sense of who I am and how I define myself as separate from that around me. Hmm. "I am not..." ... that kind of person, part of that culture, able to belong there...
Beware the vows you make, but know this... even more binding are the ones you don't make. What did you vow out of your life? What did you vow not to do, not to know, not to experience… because your attachment to the form of the outcome blinded you to the real opportunity?
Aha. Yes, this is me. So many times I've wrestled this one.
This past year I started tackling this. Things I used to believe I could never be, that I am now actually doing/being: a dancer, an athlete, a hiker, a drummer. "Me? I am not strong / I don't work out / I don't lift weights / I don't know how to dance / Only guys lift weights / Only guys drum / A woman can't go hiking solo" ... oi. I laugh now at how wrong those sound, as I know other women who do every one of them, and well, and now that it's me too... it just sounds ridiculous. But each of those was an unrecognized limiting belief until somewhat recently. Things I was embarrassed to try, or felt out of place with, or it just didn't feel like a "me" thing.
I ended up in computer programming because I started it, with my father's encouragement, when I was too young to know that it was "mostly men". Atalanta started running and hunting, too, when she was too young to know that in the human communities around her, it was "mostly men." It's amazing what a girl can do when she doesn't yet know that she's not supposed to be able to.
What is still holding me back? What did I agree not to be, and need to break that contract? I fear being the 'pretty girl' and I'm not even sure how to be that. And yet I want to be able to, I envy it, I enjoy it in others, and I want to learn. An offshoot of that is fancier professional dress, and that ties into limits I struggle with about how much of a professional leader I can be/become.
There are still vines tangled around my ankles from the poverty culture I was born into, where "rich people" were mythologized and the stories were verbally attacked, where it was betrayal to be willing to have money and good standing and all that came with it. It wasn't jealousy; it was distancing; "money is not good to have, and so it's good and safe that I am poor." It was survival. But it taught powerlessness. And so I have a hard time imagining myself - my form - in a position with power and effectiveness, even when I recognize I am already there. Whee, fun with cognitive dissonance.
Here’s another secret this story knows: only the invisible gets you. It’s what you don’t see, that invisible twine, that rules your life. You cannot unknot a knot not seen.
Clymene in despair, Iasus in disappointed rage, Ciron in desolation – they cry out to you to see. See those stitches in your heart. Invisible twine sparkles in the sunlight and hides itself in the shadows. Take your heart out of hiding. Hold it up to the sun. See what is holding you small and tight. Only then can you begin to unbind the invisible twine that holds your desire in the prison of form.
I want a more "full" life. I want opportunity, fun, artistic and musical diversity, dance and rhythm and joy, travel and exploration, adventure, experimentation, physical strength and power. I want friendships, community, belonging, connection. I am slowly stepping into those new forms of myself, trying them on, putting on a new skin to see how it fits, and how I might let it fit better.
NO ACTION IS WITHOUT CONSEQUENCE…
Do you believe that? What would change if you did? If we all agreed to play a part, then we all agreed to come together. We all agreed to enter into this story and, through it, into each other's lives. You’re here because you are needed. Events will unfold as they should only when every part is filled. Only when every role is played.
What would change? You might have to give up the arrogance of believing that your actions and words don't matter. How often, in stories, do the actions of the seemingly smallest characters change everything?
This is a story of magic, and in this story... this myth... this dream... every character is you. Knowing that you cannot help but play your part, what spell will you cast? What nest will you build – with twigs and leaves, prayers and tears – to hold who you are here to be? Even if that form is still unknown? Invisible?
What calls my spirit to life is the joy of expression and connection, authenticity and love. It finds it expression through music, photography, painting, dance, walking through windy summer meadows, hearing the insect song on cool summer nights. There is a glow to my days when I am involved in the act of creating - whether that creates physical objects, intangible software, art and music, or relationship. I also observe that I regularly am creating myself.
The nest that carries me to those opportunities is built of many things. Trust in myself and trust in my desires. Taking good care of my physical body, my health and sleep and moods. Making time for new skills, experimentation, dedication to practices and the freedom to toss it all aside and try something else new. Gentleness with my mistakes and patience to lay a foundation. Willingness to dream years ahead and let that dream carry me through the difficult first months. The decision to put myself first, some of the time, so that I always get at least a little time to do what is right for me.
by Cynthea Jones
She made a vow to herself, she made a vow to Artemis... I will be true to myself.
Discarded at birth, raised in the wild, blessed by the wind... when all you have is
yourself, it is essential not to betray that one sacred relationship. Her vow: I will never be less than I am... no matter the cost.
As a Priestess of Artemis, she vowed never to marry. Not a vow of chastity but a vow of self-possession. Raised by the wild creatures of the wood, she would not enter the cage of convention nor be anyone's possession.
This... ouch. This hits home for me in a very direct way. Perhaps I have made that vow, once long ago, or perhaps I make it again each day. But I also tried to make a contract, once, to "be what others need me to be, so they will accept me, even if it means being less than I am." That contract failed, so many times; and I suppose I should be glad it did. They didn't accept me, and I also could not live with being less than fully who I am. I can be polite, I can respect others' limits, but I cannot give up my real self, my energy, enthusiasm, dedication, intelligence, power, creativity.
I cannot unknow what I know. I cannot know my power and claim it, and then unclaim it, hide from it, deny it. I cannot make myself small to fit in someone else's box. I am. I am. And it has come with a price; the price of not fitting in, the price of always being different, and knowing that sometimes people feel "on edge" from how their life stories interact with mine. I cannot control others' reactions to me; their feelings are theirs to figure out. And sometimes I am lonely. But mostly, it has opened my life to be full of opportunities for me to fill my heart, for me to pursue what I love and live in a way that is joyous for me.
Beware the vows you make, but know this... even more binding are the ones
you don't make, won't make.
Invisible twine, thin and fine,
you can not unknot a knot not seen.
Invisible twine, thin and fine.
Sew small the heart and tight the hand,
who can unbind invisible twine?
Atalanta's vow, as the story will tell, was a costly one. Her vow: I will never be less than I am... no matter the cost. She couldn't lose a race, she couldn't settle for a lesser life, she couldn’t hide from her destiny. Telling a story is easier than living one.
In the living of the story, little compromises of our integrity seem fine, sometimes even wise. "Just this once..." "Well, it will make peace." "What I want really doesn't matter all that much." How about: "I am strong enough to… give in… do without what I said was important to me… find myself again when this is over."
Vows – those vows – they are more than agreements, more than promises. They are
sacred and they are unbreakable... at least, you can't break them without losing a piece of your self. Call it soul, heart or reason to live. Call it knowing who you are, being who you are. Simply stated: when you break a vow to yourself, you lose a piece of yourself.
Just a piece... but how many pieces can you do without before the integrity of the
structure that is you begins to break down?
I know that I have "missed" when I notice that my joy is gone, when I notice that I am rebelling more and holding life at a distance, going into avoidance patterns. Sometimes my dreams get stressed; sometimes I sleep late, hiding in the world of dreams. If it's just physical illness, it passes; if it doesn't pass, and I am otherwise healthy, it's time to look at what I've compromised. Where is the way I'm living out of step with my heart and my values, my hopes and my dreams?
My performance slips; my ability to do tasks drops away, first the complex ones and then even the simple ones. My motivation drops. I pretend I don't care, but I do. The unexpressed parts of me - wildness, power, creativity, daring - they start to express themselves spontaneously, at unpredictable times, and in ways that may be more risky than otherwise. I rebel. In being what others want of me, I forget who I really am, that I have a place in the world and that I matter.
Vague even to myself, I am. And then I say: “This is what I will do. This is who I am.”
Vows made to myself and to my times.
Don't confuse these vows with the promises made to others. Wedding vows, initiation
vows, the sacred rites of our childhood religions – be they made in church or to a group of peers, do they fit in the cup made of the vows you made to yourself and for yourself?
If not, you might have some untangling to do... and now is the time.
Are there "vows" that you made that you must undo to take yourself back? Are there
vows you must unmake so that you can be free to make a vow to yourself, a vow that
will keep you whole? Make a note of those vows here.
I have made "promises" or "contracts" in the long past, that I now find too limiting, too hard to be who I want to be. Some of them were:
- I will be quiet, polite, obedient; a good girl, always acceptable, always good and well behaved and proper.
- I will not engage in conflict, ever, for any reason.
- It is safer not to speak up, so I will not speak.
- I am only safe if I hide who I am, so I will.
- I will not hold an opinion that someone close to me disagrees with.
- I will not risk making mistakes or disappointing anyone.
- I won't be a part of "those people" whatever the crowd, whatever the style of fashion or attitude, because it's different from where I came from and so it's a betrayal.
- I will never betray my values (aka the values I silently accepted from the culture I was born into, aka I will not disappoint others by letting myself be changed or having an independent opinion).
- I will never brag, show off, take the spotlight, or shine, because it might make someone else feel bad about themselves.
- I will never hurt anyone, or cause anyone to feel bad, even accidentally.
- I will not engage with beauty, fashion, or fads, because it's shallow and worthless, and doing so would mean I'm shallow and worthless and easily pushed around by peer pressure.
- I will always be the one who is different, because it means I didn't give in to peer pressure, and thus I'm "good" and well behaved.
I'm sure there are some more but those are the ones popping to mind at the moment. My values have shifted since then; I see value in beauty, and enjoy the playfulness that can go into a bunch of girls (or women) making pretty hair and fancy outfits and dancing together and creating beauty. I see value in art, in pure aesthetics. I find love in community, and belongingness, and in singing together and blending. I find joy in performance, whether someone else's or my own, and I know that my light does not diminish yours; that we can both shine, and it's beautiful. I know that I can play with various subcultures and social groups, and adopt their ways of being for a while, and still not lose myself and my sense of who I am. I know that sometimes my words or actions may hurt another, and that I don't mean to cause pain, but sometimes life includes that, and it is also an opportunity for growth, for healing, for better communication or new insights. I know that the dark parts of life are valuable and I know the blessings that sadness and challenge have brought me, when I embraced them instead of running away.
I know that things I made a part of who I thought I was, years ago, no longer serve me. And uprooting those, and living from a different way of being, takes work and time and patience.
What are the vows that make you less?
Unwind, unbind and boil away.
While the brew brews, write them here: Your body knows the little twists you made in
your soul to make promises to others. With word or glyph, mark them here.
When I promised not to engage with beauty, I told myself stories that I wasn't beautiful, that I couldn't be any different than I already was, and I told myself that I didn't want to be seen, to be appreciated visually. By telling myself I didn't want those things, I denied myself the joy of experiencing them. I also denied myself the joy of friendships with others who valued those things, and who could have helped me soften and grow in those ways. I denied myself the joy of dancing, which now brings me an explosion of sparkling joy and enthusiasm. I denied myself physical movement - wiggling, swaying, opening my arms, relaxing - because those all would make people look at me. And I might be 'wrong', I might do something awkward, I might draw attention to myself... So it made knots and twists, not just in my soul, but in my body; muscle aches, tight spots, sores from always sitting rigid and closed.
When I promised not to be 'different' from those around me, I denied my wild self, my intelligence, my perceptiveness, my voice, my ability to fall in love openly and honestly, my power and enthusiasm, and my unique way of being in the world. I had to waste my time covering my tracks, triple checking everything I said, editing out pronouns for being in love with the wrong gender, hiding the people who were really important to me, hiding what I wanted and dreamed of for fear it would be stolen away. It was exhausting.
When I hid my emotional life, to fit in, to be acceptable, I lost the opportunity to talk about how I really felt, to engage in social intimacy, to experience being seen and loved for who I truly am. I became deeply lonely, and couldn't really feel others' support even when it was offered in words; I felt too distant, untouchable, not really 'seen'.
When I promised never to stand in the spotlight, always to be second in line but not first, I cut myself off from healthy competitive motivation to do well. I cut myself off from the joy of success, and a reason to try; and thus, I cut my incredible skills way short. Like a cheetah without space to run, I cut off talent development when there was nowhere for me to shine, no reason to perform. I found myself, for a while, cutting myself short just before the finish line, out of fear of success. I even noticed I would reflexively scramble my thoughts if I was going "too fast" through textbook material; still cooperating with elementary school teacher instructions to "wait for the class / don't go too fast or learn too much ahead". Thankfully, I have worked through most of that, but it was a hard several years of work. Time that I could have better spent learning my own way at full speed.
Did you become the person that someone close to you told you that you were? With word or glyph, mark here the time that you said yes to being someone that someone else said you were... and that you are not.
You are such a good girl.
The words still echo. I broke that agreement when I was 13. I didn't say I had broken it until I was 17. And still it haunts me. I want its joys - purity, innocence, unchallenged value. Blamelessness, and in it, a promise of safety. Yet they are illusions. I don't believe in a judging/blaming God, and I don't believe in a life of temptation and trial and sin. I don't believe in perfect behavior or salvation. I do believe that life and people have value and worth, and that what I do and say matters, and that ethics come from understanding not from prescribed rules.
And yet the fear that I will make The Mistake and my world will fall apart and I'm to blame still haunts me.
"With the tip of my finger, I swirl time. I move the centuries back to create a story that you will discover in your past."
Go ahead, swirl time backward. Watch your life replay itself. Are there vows you made
that need to be undone? You can swirl time backward and undo those moments here.
With this brew, you can do that. What do you want to undo?
I wish... I wish that I had known that my value and worth didn't come from being obedient, from being right, from being what someone else expected. I wish I had discovered when I was young that I had talent and skill and value to contribute that was all my own. I found the talent but I didn't discover that I had value until so much later.
If you were to ask Althea, what might she add?
All your childhood, you cried out to me silently: See me, see me I am strong, see me for who I am. Please see me. You knew you had value. Just as you learned to accept others' ideas that you didn't have value, you can also relearn that you do. You are not alone anymore.
What vow will you make to your past self?
I will hold our memories gently, with love, and find ways to heal the things that still hurt. I will seek the things that make us whole, and play in the ways I always wanted to but did not. I will have now the experiences I couldn't have then.
Go ahead, swirl time forward. Spin it all the way up to today. And then, go one year further. Who are you? The water waits. The truth is what you say it will be. Who are you? List ten words that describe who you are a year from now.
What vow will you make to your future self?
Even when times are difficult and busy, I will not forget who I dream of becoming, and I will work at it regularly to create the life I desire. I will trust my inner power, my intelligence and skills, and give it every chance I can for expression and growth.
Are there people or situations that you need to untangle? In your mind and in your heart, what do you need to say so that you can be free? Are there things you need to do? List them here.
Whoever you are, reading this - friends, family, peers of all sorts... I may never be what you expect or want. I may be distant at times, too consumed by building my life to put time towards my relationships with each of you. I may live in ways you disagree with or say things that are "inappropriate". And life will go on. My successes might make you jealous; if you find yourself in my shadow, and unhappy about it, then I dare you to ask yourself - what dreams of yours are you denying? I'd rather you stood shining beside me than held us both back.
I will change. This much is certain. My cultural associations and values may shift; my way of spending time and spending money may shift, and shift, and shift again. What you think is reasonable to expect of me may not be, and you may be shocked when I say, "No." And life will go on anyway.
I love having friends and family in my life. I love those connections, those opportunities for deep sharing and trust and understanding. And still I will stand alone if I need to, to be true to myself. You can accept me as I am, or not; that is your choice. But whether to be myself is mine.
The next section of the workbook is about contracts made - to be a part of someone's life, to be a catalyst, a bringer of change, to shape an opinion or a heart. I have countless examples from my life, but as this is something I've understood for a long time, there doesn't seem to be a lot of new work for me here. I have long accepted that when a particular form of relationship completes, its shape may shift, or it may end, and that doesn't mean it failed. I'm used to that, and I see the value in letting them shift and change.
And this post is getting long enough already. :) Looking ahead now to see if there are more juicy questions for me personally...
Many of you have a larger contract with Diana’s Grove, one that you might never know you have. You might say something on line that changes the course of the story, or gives someone the inspiration they have been seeking. Your insight could be the key to change or liberation for someone you will never meet. You might share an idea or a line from the story with a casual acquaintance and change the course of their life. You might have a contract to meet someone at Mystery School.
Do you remember... “See you at Diana’s Grove in the year 2009. I am the person who
will deliver you to the next phase of your life. I will introduce you to the passion that will become your purpose. I will be the person who supports you through a significant change. I will see you with such clarity that you will be able to see yourself more fully.”
Did you say that, or did someone say that to you?
*giggle* Yes, and yes. I copied this piece in because I find it playful, in that inspired and fun sort of way. Yes, it's a plug for the events, and still - this is precisely what the Grove gave me - support, passion, self-knowledge, self-acceptance. This is why I go. It fills my heart.
How do I keep a contract I didn’t know I made? By agreeing to be involved... in your work, in your significant relationships, in Mystery School, in life, in the mystery of discovering yourself. By living as if you made an agreement to be authentic – to live up to who you are when you live for your values and out of your beliefs. What if you made a contract with life and said that you
would reach out and touch the world with your awareness and your compassion, and
shape reality by speaking your truth?
Certainly, speaking my truth shapes MY reality, and it has seemed over time that it touches those around me as well. This is some of why I share. And also, because it's fun; because it gives a chance for authentic, intimate exchange. It makes life more beautiful.
"I take a pinch of life. Another pinch. I toss it on a black obsidian mirror. If a story must be told, it must be lived." There are vows to be made this year. But first, look into the mirror and at your life a year from now. What vow will you make to yourself, to the self you will be a year from now? Write that vow here.
I promise... a year of trying on new skins, trying on new ideas of who I am or can be, of noticing when I hold myself back due to self-image. I promise to loosen my preconceived notions of who I am, to let go of my own form, so that my dreams can be born within me.
I promise to let my form be changed by life, that my dreams might be born.