I am in transition. In a big way. Constant shifts in consciousness. New paradigms to step into. Feelings that I never had before. And happiness. Followed by deep moments of grief and then happiness again. There is possibility in my life in a way that I have not known before. It is happening. Everything. What. Ever. That. Is.

And in this period of growth and renewal I am discovering a deeper level of connection with others that is also new to me. A connection that has awakened my understanding of community and my oneness with others. And with other, spirit, one, the universe, mother nature. God.

These connections, I actually began them over a year ago, with a friendship that blossomed between three of us. Deep in our friendship we offered unfettered love, a strong shoulder, a listening and a knowing. And a holding of each other's hands when the path was too steep.

When I was thinking of writing today, this was not the theme. There is another writing brewing in my head and heart but as I sat down I thought to look at what last year's writing on this date was. And it was about this heart-connected friendship that I speak of above. 

And I love this. Because many of the things I wrote back then, that I did not remember that I wrote till just now - these things resonate with me still. And so I am sharing them again...my writing from last year - June 29, 2015.  Here goes:

The Loveliness of Us

Yesterday was my dear friends birthday. And in dear friend I mean my friend who is deep in my heart. I do not use this term lightly. The term dear. Truly, I don't. Because in the course of my life there have not been many that have become that to me. 

These friends are rare. For me they are almost unheard of. For most of my life the feeling of intimacy happens so quickly and  yet we are still just on the surface and so the feeling of deep connection is really a veil. Because I have often been the master of the intimate acquaintance, connecting on a level that is just below that new banter that happens when you first meet someone right away and it is only on those rare occasions that I would descend to that authentic place where my heart is open.  It is a gift that I can dip just below the surface, because the world is always friendly and welcomes me in. But it is a curse, because in doing so I am treading water rather than taking those deep, clean breaths and plunging into the cool relief of true friendship.

But I have learned to jump, with barely a splash so quietly do I enter the water, and connect with others. And so it is with my birthday friend and another. Three of us. Our friendship is forged over months of angst and introspection. Laughter and joy. We walk each other through the challenges and accomplishments of the every day and the extraordinary. And whether we are watching a full moon rising or sharing a quick coffee, whether we speak often or weeks go by filled with that which harnesses our focus in other directions, our friendship runs deep. Unconditional. Constant. 

And with this sweet friendship comes the possibility of more. For as I have learned to open my heart and trust that the vulnerability I often fear is not an enemy but merely a reminder of the connections that are waiting for me, I am able to welcome new voices into the chorus that are my friends.

There is a warmth within my heart that reminds me I am blessed.

And so this phrase - dear friend - it is full. It has life. It has a pulse. Take a minute and feel it and in the feeing of it, feel those people in your life that are dear to you in that way that runs deep in the rhythm of your heart and in the beat of your pulse.

At Dance Tribe, on the table when you first walk in, are angel cards. They are small, rectangular cards, a light gray color, with a line drawing of an angel. They are spread out on the table, face down. You pick one. And turn it over and are given a word that perhaps will resonate with you in that moment, or will be something that you decide to bring into the room with you to explore in your dance. Or maybe will not be a word that you choose to incorporate into your space at this time at all. 

I find that my words are very telling. Last week I got discernment. That was a good one.

Yesterday there were two cards that beckoned me. Usually there is only one. I hold my hand over the table and a particular card feels right to flip over. But not yesterday. Yesterday there were two. Right next to each other. I had to choose. So after a more than a moments hesitation I picked my card. It was blank. empty. Nothing. It is a mystery said the woman who mans the front desk, allowing us to pay in support of this beautiful place. And I laughed. Because it really is.  

I walked away, still sitting in the funny of this. My empty angel card. The unknown. The not knowing. And then I turned around, curious to see what the other card would have brought me. And back at the table I lifted it up. Acceptance it said.

Ah, The Universe - she has a wonderful sense of humor.

My husband and I climbed the ridge on Saturday. It is an hour and a half climb to a ridge that runs along the length of the mountains that my town nestles against. It is a beautiful climb. We start through a path ripe with bushes of full and sweet smelling yellow flowers. I am covered in yellow once we make it through. And then we are into the climb. A gradual uphill for most of the hike, with a steep grade at the end before we end up...up. On top of the clouds. 

During the journey up the mountain I reflect on the other journey I am on. A deep and soulful and acutely painful transition into self. And I am in it. 

So the mountain hike - the journey up , the goal of the climb and the reach for the top - I think this will embody my own journey.

But it does not.

Because unlike this climbing to reach a clear peak, my awakening is not linear. It is round. And full. It ebbs and flows. There are moments I am in it and times where the feelings withdraw back into a safe keeping place, waiting to reappear to me again when I am ready.

It is this not ready time that interests me now. Because in these moments of ebbing my stories come in hard and try and entice me away from my core. At first, I let them enter me. Because they are familiar. But not now. Now I see that they no longer nourish me. Now I see my stories outside of myself. Now I see them through the eyes of perspective because I see them from my heart. I see them from my truth. 

But still they come. 

And so there is a constant rhythm. My stories show up. I try them on - it is a habit. But only for a moment before I recognize that they do not fit. But I do not just pull them off my body. It is not a shedding that will serve me, it is an honoring. A recognizing that the stories that I have, the belief systems that I formed, and the experiences that I lived were the universe sending her message to move me on my way. The more painful the story, the more incentive to move. 

And so I sit in each story for just long enough to recognize her purpose. And I thank her for her time with me. It is only then that I let each story go, to sit in my truth and sink back deep into my belly - to my connection to self where my deep power lives. 

I am not worrying about what is coming next. I am nestled in my journey circle. And it is a safe place. A place of surrender. Of offering it up to the Universe and trusting where she takes me.