New Year 2011 Blessing



In honor of the turning of the wheel and a new year about to be born, I decided to do a little something different. I was called to give a gift to the community.

I practice many forms of divination and particularly enjoy working with oracle cards. I always use readings on New Year's Eve to tap into the energy that will be coming in over the next 12 months. This year, I decided to do a reading for each member of the "Through Thick and Thin" community who is a believer in all things magical. The particular deck I worked with is "Wisdom of the Hidden Realms" and was created by, Collette Baron-Reid. If you enjoy divination, this is a stunning deck with captivating images. I highly recommend it. The guidance is always spot-on, deeply meaningful, and relevant.

If you are pulled to read this message, know this reading is meant for you and will be a theme for your life throughout 2011.

~2011 Theme~

The Phoenix
resurrection, surrender to change

-Ally-

The Phoenix appears as your Ally to celebrate your journey and to ensure your ultimate success. This is true even if it appears that you've just passed through a metaphorical experience of death or are currently enduring a perception of failure in your life.

Death and rebirth are related when you enter the realm of the Phoenix. Seen in this light, nothing truly dies, but rather changes from one ending directly into new beginnings. The Phoenix is constantly reinventing itself and rises up whole and new and even more powerful with every death it experiences. This could signal an end of a relationship -or a dynamic within one- or an end of a job, a project, or even a life.

Perhaps no failure is involved, but it's time for a complete overhaul of your circumstances. You may be tired of what you're doing, or you may know intuitively that it's time to move on and try something new. Whatever the case, a death of the old and a celebration of the new are called for! Whatever you do now will indeed be a successful endeavor, for a rebirth is imminent!

Happy New Year! I wish each of you...

A shimmer of hope
A shine of belief
A glisten of happiness
The beauty of peace
And a touch of humor

~Blessed Be~

"Checkmate" By, Shannon Elsom

~Checkmate~
By, Shannon Elsom

I've been here before
I know the scene
When everything that was certain
Is not quite what it seems
When you take a bite of that polished apple
And find it rotten to the core
A bitter taste of reality
Shocking open new doors

Yes…
I've been here before
I know the scene
But the plot is not the only thing not quite what it seems
I'm not a weak woman
My power is vast
I have a fire in my belly
A soul built to last
I may have been wounded
My name dragged through the mud
My love has been man-handled
Not treated with kid gloves
But my heart is wide open
It’s beat…
Fearlessly free
Good luck trying to pull a fast one on me

Bite into my apple 
You’ll find substance at its core
Yet lips that lie will be denied
Left hungering for more
No matter how you plot
Or desperately you may scheme
My love is my power
It will bring you to your knees

Play with the Queen of Hearts
And you will lose your pretty head
I’m not to be trifled with
Perhaps you were misled
You pulled a card from the deck of my past
You toyed with love like a game
But it is I who will have the last laugh
With my arrow’s steady aim

Yes…
I’ve been here before
I know well the scene
Oh, silly foolish boy
Things are not what they seem

"The Siren's Call" By, Shannon Elsom

~The Siren's Call~
By, Shannon Elsom

Like a bee to honey
A moth to a flickering flame
Drawing together opposites
To meld and make one
That which had been torn asunder

Oh, sweet journey of the pilgrim heart
Setting out on a maiden voyage
Upon the ocean of Divine Love
To arrive at the shore of Destiny
Whole and fulfilled

The call home echoes
Within the soul's corridors
Blotting out fear and doubt
Leaving only absolute
Truth of Grace

Follow Your Heart

"The longest journey you will make in your life is from your head to your heart." ~Sioux Legend



The Tell-Tale Heart



Lately, I am finding writing to be a very therapeutic release for me. Journaling is helping me stay centered in my experience. It is preventing me from distracting myself from what has quickly escalated into one of the most soul-searing passages of my life. In the past, discomfort on this level would have surely sent me packing, but here I sit in the eye of the hurricane. I'm present and currently detesting this experience. I wish I could say I was flowing through this transition with more grace, but that would be akin to polishing up a rotten apple. If I have learned anything through my recovery, it is the importance of radical truth-telling. No one ever said it was going to be easy.

Shadow work is a force to be reckoned with. It is the whip of tough love that snaps us out of our inertia. It wrenches the fabric of complacency, challenging us to weave new meaningful threads into the tapestry of our lives. Some work is done for the sake of the doing, without the reward being readily apparent. Such is the case when you are dancing with the shadow in the pale moonlight.

I have seen ugliness reflected back at me over the past month. I have been called to claim full ownership of some rather murky aspects of my character. This has proven to be some of the most juicy, meaty, intense, provoking soul work I have ever done.

It hit me this morning as I was laying in bed how much forgiveness work I have done around my past. I have reached deep inside of myself to find a place of forgiveness for those who have wounded me. I have forgiven what some say to be the unforgivable. This didn't require a great leap of faith. I believe my philosophy in life has helped me move into this emotional space of readiness.

I have come to accept that truth is not absolute, at least not in the way we relate to truth. There is the little 't' truth which most of us feel inexplicably invested in. This comes from an ego-centered place of falsely assuming our experience to be solely relevant. You know what they say about assuming. This watered-down version of the truth is a complete denial of the truth of others. Little 't' truth is used as the basis of many conflicts. It backs up a hell of a lot of finger-pointing. It's emotionally invested in laying blame... being 'right'... winning the argument. It has no regard for understanding, empathy, or compassion. At its worst it is bull-headed ignorance. It certainly is counter-productive and crowds out all room for healing. Healing can't happen when we are too socked into a myopic view of fear-based self-preservation.

Then you have the big 'T' truth, or what I like to think of as the cosmic order of all things and simultaneously, the cosmic chaos of all things. Chaos is the dark womb that gestates creative change in our lives. We resist chaos because we fear the darkness. The unknown makes us quake in our boots because we have falsely bought into the illusion of control. We have sacrificed our wild natures in favor of homogenization. Then we feel dead inside and bewildered by our state of disconnect and confusion. How can we feel anything but turmoil when we are severed from our intrinsic nature?

Chaos is not exactly the visitor we want to see arriving on our doorstep. It's kind of like the friend who overstays their welcome... fine for a quick "How do you do" and not much more. Usually chaos comes calling when we become static and stuck. When we have lost our way and are veering off course, chaos comes as the great teacher to wake us out of our mindless slumber. Sometimes we grow far too apathetic. We become locked into roles that do not reflect who we truly are. We act out of old outworn belief systems. We view the present through the eyes of the past. This prevents us from experiencing the new reality of the now. We play old tunes on records grooved with scratches that create skips in our experience.

Resistance feeds persistence in such cases. Absolute surrender to the force of change is what is absolutely required. No ifs, ands or buts. We can protest all we want. We can scream until we are blue in the face. We can curse The Fates. Although, I do not recommend this. That's a rather tricky affair. It won't slow the uprooting. It won't stop that earthquake from tearing a path through your living room. It won't soften the blow of the hammer of truth. The more exacting that blow, the greater the call to let go and succumb to the teaching. Resistance is futile unless you're cruising for a more severe clobbering. Some are gluttons for punishment. I'm not one of them.

Through the channel of chaos, we learn lessons about big 'T' truth. We discover that truth is absolute and simultaneously, absolute bullshit because it is so highly subjective and filtered through our individual perceptions. Higher truth shows respect for all views in any conflict. It recognizes that all feelings are valid and to be respected. We can never strip someone of their experience even when it differs greatly from our own or causes us pain. It is when we can rise above our attachment to our version of old stories to encompass understanding of that big 'T' truth that we find healing, peace, and freedom.

One caveat of this process is that we have to weigh our own hearts. Big 'T' truth reflects our inner reality. It peers into the dark corners of our psyche. It shines light on aspects of ourselves we have hidden, tucked away presumably safely under lock and key. It does not do this to be cruel but to help free us from our self-imposed imprisonment. Scrying into that mirror I have seen clearly my inability to forgive myself.

It is much easier for me to find forgiveness in my heart for others. I feel deeply challenged to grant myself the same redemption. Only in the past few days have I begun to scratch the surface of the forgiveness work I need to do with myself. I feel profoundly tested to embrace the darker aspects of my nature. I have bumped up against a wall of shame I didn't even know existed. I have tried to find solace in the fact that I am not alone in the shadow. We all possess the contrast of darkness to our light. Somehow this knowing has not soothed me. Some paths are meant to be tread solitary. There may be others who can relate to our experience, but the journey through the shadow is uniquely our own. No fellow travellers may join us at this inn. This is one area we tend to feel very alone despite knowing that all humans wrestle with their demons. Some rather fancy the struggle and enjoy jello wrestling with their demon friends.

In the past month the all-knowing cosmic mirror has reflected back to me aspects of myself I would prefer to shatter, smash to bits, box up and ship out with no return address. I have seen my grasping... my envy... my bitterness... my rage... my toxicity. It has brought up issues around my sense of worthiness. I am so very hard on myself. I grant myself little breathing room to be human... to make mistakes... to struggle... and yes... to occasionally fall flat on my face and make a colossal ass out of myself. I am not exempt from putting my foot in my mouth or stirring the shit pot, try as I might to avoid these scenarios like the plague. I find it so easy to forgive others of these transgressions, but myself? That's a bitter pill to swallow.

I'm on a mission to come to a place of true forgiveness in my heart. I am fully convinced it is my ticket to peace, healing, and freedom. I will not continue to carry this baggage around for another 14 years. This experience is multi-layered for me. It runs deep... so very, very deep. Much like peeling an onion, I work through one layer only to find another one waiting for me. Every time I hit bottom... and I have hit bottom too many times to count over the past four weeks... I discover that new lows await me. It is in those moments I believe I am mad for opening this Pandora's box and yet, I am compelled like a moth to a flame. Perhaps it is my kamikaze nature to crash and burn. To allow the fire of transformation to rip through my soul consuming all that is false, leaving only essential remains.

I realize in these moments that this is greater than me... this call to heal old wounds and seek peace. It comes from something right in the center of my spirit, like a distant echo across the divide beckoning me home. I have no choice but to answer that call. At times it twists my insides up in knots. I find myself crying mercy and still I persist... feeling... releasing... staring truth in its wild face... shuddering... sobbing... diving down, down, down... all the way to the bottom of this wreckage that has capsized my soul.

This is what I am hungry for. This is the force that drives me. I will no longer live my life from a space of fear. I would rather leap empty-handed into the void. I prefer to brush right up against the unknowable and find my heart waiting there for me... restless and beating. The secrets it will speak with its tell-tale beat I do not know. I only know this is the work to be done. There is no going back no matter how desperately I want to turn tail and run, making a clean break for distant lands... far off places where I can be nameless amongst the masses... where I have no history... where I can simply be. This is the fantasy du jour right now. That, or taking off to join the circus where I can live the life of a nomad. A gypsy soul with no permanent place to call home with only a dream in my heart to keep me warm at night. The yearning for the great escape still beckons in the quiet moments the pain closes in. It reminds me of something Geneen Roth expressed... "Never underestimate the inclination to bolt." I'm sitting in the center of that gem of truth. It's a tough one.

Despite the beautiful mess that has been made of my life in the blink of an eye, I trust in the wisdom of life's grand design. I realize my kicking and screaming protests this intervention, but there is that still calm place inside that knows better. I sometimes need to have a temper tantrum to get to the heart of the matter. It's often these moments we look back on with revelation... connecting the dots between poignant experiences. I have yet to meet a challenge I couldn't lick. I am, after all, the queen of salvation at the eleventh hour.

Call it ignorant bliss, radical trust, divine guidance, or sheer insanity... I call it my only option. I have to believe that the foundation I've built over the past 13 years has been ripped out from under me because my life is in need of a grander design. Something more befitting of the woman I have become. Time for mama to trade in old hats for a shiny new jewel-studded crown.

Merry Yuletide

Happy Holidays "Through Thick and Thin" family. Wishing you a joyful time of connection with those you love.

Here's to brighter days, an abundance of blessings, and the fulfillment of your heart's desires in 2011. 

Rest in Peace Gabrielle

I've hit bottom. It is all much too much now. I have received word that my dear friend, Gabrielle, passed away yesterday, December 22, 2010 at 4:30 pm. 

Something inside of me must have intuited this because I have been in deep mourning, sobbing to no end, since yesterday afternoon. The tears have poured out of me in a steady stream that could fill the ocean wide. This grief has left me with a vast expanse of emptiness in my heart. I'm in an unusual emotional space. I feel in this world, but not of this world. I feel tested beyond my means. There have been too many major blows packed into the past few weeks. A person can only take so much. I am on my knees pleading mercy. 

Last night, in the middle of a surge of pain that seemed to possess the power to consume me whole, I pulled a card from my Doreen Virtue "Archangel Oracle Cards" deck. This is the message I received... 

Hello from Heaven

Archangel Azrael: "Your loved ones in Heaven are doing fine. Let go of worries, and feel their loving blessings."

Additional Message: "Your loved ones aren't far away; in fact, they're quite near. In your quiet moments, you can feel their presence. These really are true visitations, and I ask you to trust your intuition. You may notice dream visits from deceased loved ones. Know that your loved ones are happy, free of all suffering, and want the same for you. Your loved ones want to work with your guardian angels to help you be peaceful, so watch for other signs from Heaven."

Working with Archangel Azrael: Azrael is known as "The Angel of Death," since his primary role is to help people cross over to Heaven at the time of their physical death. Far from being a morbid role, Azrael surrounds the newly crossed-over soul with loving light to make the experience uplifting and comforting. Azrael helps deceased loved ones make contact with their living family members and friends. You can ask Azrael to bring you a message or dream visitation from your loved ones in Heaven. 

Last night, as I was crying, I felt a presence surround me. It enfolded me, comforted me, rocked me, the way a mother would rock and soothe a child. I believe this was a visitation... an act of Grace to hold me in my time of sorrow. Life is such a mystery. I did not receive word of Gabrielle's passing until this morning, but the heart knows. The heart always knows.

Rest in peace Gabrielle. You are a beautiful soul who touched many lives with your healing presence. Your memory will forever live on in my heart and those of the many who love you.

Merry Winter Solstice

To all members of our community who honor the turning of the wheel, I would like to wish you a Merry Winter Solstice. This is a very fertile solstice, pregnant with the limitless possibility and potential we find in the longest night of the year. This solstice night is graced with a full moon lunar eclipse. 

The energy is perfect for diving deeply into ourselves, reflecting on the year's lessons learned, all we are grateful for, and the dreams we wish to birth in our lives as the light steadily returns once this night has passed.
 

"Up rose the wild old winter-king, And shook his beard of snow; "I hear the first young hard-bell ring, 'Tis time for me to go! Northward o'er the icy rocks, Northward o'er the sea, My daughter comes with sunny locks: This land's too warm for me!" ~Charles Godfrey Leland 

Inspire Emotional Release Through Breath

Inspire (in spi r') v. 10. to take air into the lungs in breathing; inhale. 11. Archaic a. to infuse (breath, life, etc.) by breathing (usually fol. by into) b. to breathe into or upon. 

Many of us know the traditional definition of inspire; to produce or arouse; but we often forget about the archaic definition which means quite simply, to breathe into. The act of breathing itself is inspiration. Conscious breathing has the ability to connect us with our bodies and release emotions we are physically suppressing. Many of us hold our emotions so tightly in our bodies. Quite literally, we don't give these feelings any breathing room. We stuff down our emotions by disassociating and disconnecting. We each do this in different ways. 

Some people use food or the avoidance of eating to disconnect from the feelings welling up inside of them. Others turn to substances like drugs and alcohol to numb out emotions that may feel too overwhelming to face. Some blind themselves to their inner realities with consumerism... shopping as a way to obtain material things to define worth and fill the void inside. We disconnect in a multitude of ways... tuning out with TV, the computer, video games, overwork, excessive exercise. In a very real sense we have moved away from an organic life experience toward a virtual reality. All of these means of coping are like slapping a band aid on a gaping wound. It doesn't stop the hemorrhaging... the bleeding out of our life force. The more we check out like this, the more our unaddressed feelings tend to build inside of us, creating pressure. This pressure leads to stress. That stress can impact our lives negatively on multiple levels. 

Stress is the greatest factor in dis-ease. So much of our health and well-being relies on our ability to effectively manage our stress. Additionally, though we may think we are saving ourselves suffering by dropping the curtain on our emotions, we are actually breeding dysfunction which only further impacts our sense of discontent and lack of personal fulfillment. When we cut ourselves off at the head and sever ourselves from our bodies and emotions, those feelings remain. They haven't disappeared simply because we are not willing to look at them. As layer upon layer of unacknowledged emotion piles up on one another, our inner unrest reaches the boiling point. That pent-up energy must be released before we implode. Often this seeps out into our lives in damaging ways, affecting relationships, work, health, and our emotional/spiritual well-being. 

It is very important that we hold space for all of our emotions, that we learn to invite our feelings in to sit for a spell and teach us something about ourselves. Most people resist emotional work because they feel like they have to figure it out, make it 'right' and possibly dredge up painful past memories that they would just assume leave behind in the dust of days gone by. This is a misconception. We don't have to sort out our feelings, categorize them, make sense of them, validate them, or even know where they originate from. There is a big difference between honoring our emotions and wallowing in feelings that can keep us stuck in life. Feeling our emotions does not mean we must convert to the 'religion' of martyrdom. It is about releasing what is weighing us down so we can build a bridge and get over it. It is when we cling so tightly to our emotions, blocking their expression, that we are keeping ourselves locked and bound by the shackles of the past. Feeling paves the road to freedom. 

Sometimes when we open ourselves to feeling we make a distinct connection. We realize the emotion is related to some event in our lives that we didn't fully process and integrate, but this is not always the case. Sometimes, emotions surface and they seem to have no basis in rationality. They appear to spring up from nowhere. In those moments it is vital to trust that sometimes the body knows something we are unaware of. Our job isn't to 'fix' it, just to feel it. Feeling fully creates the necessary release that helps us move forward in our lives. It's not complicated and it doesn't require years of wading through emotional muck while lying on a psychiatrist's couch. In fact, the more we can be present and hold space for our feelings, the more easily they pass through us unencumbered. The sooner we get to get on with life. There is no way to avoid feeling. We are having a life experience and experience entails that we must feel. 

How do we hold space for our emotions and reconnect when we are so used to checking out? The answer is quite simply, through inspiration. Through breathing, we become inspired and this facilitates the physical release that allows our bodies to surrender what they have been holding on to so tightly. It is amazing how releasing our emotions through breath can create so much space inside of us. There is a distinct broadening of our inner horizons when we allow our emotions expression through inspiration. It can be a powerful experience. We truly have the ability to heal and release simply by using our breath. 

When we own our emotions we move away from reacting, toward responding. Reactiveness comes from an unaware space. When we are disconnected from our emotions we often move into reactiveness, finger-pointing and judging, rather than owning our feelings and expressing them in balanced ways. This only causes the divide to deepen and prevents us from moving forward in our lives and relationships. Reactions are impulsive. They are highly-charged. Our buttons get pushed and we head into blame mode because we want to make others/life situations 'wrong'. It is easier to disconnect through blaming than to come into direct contact with the intolerable feelings that get provoked by challenging situations and relationships. When we react, we give away our power. We come from a space of fear and defensiveness. This only creates more of what we don't want in our lives... isolation, disconnection, adversity, dysfunction. 

Responding is quite different. It is recognizing in the moment that difficulty enters that there is a choice... to close ourselves off in reactiveness, remaining in our familiar comfort zone, or to move into a space of receptivity and understanding which opens the door to more meaning and personal growth. Responding comes from a secure space of authenticity and love. In order to respond, we have to be able to connect with our emotions while also respecting the feelings of others. If we can tune in the instant disruption enters, make contact with our feelings while also connecting with the feelings of others, we are opening ourselves to responding. Responding entails that we listen more, not only to ourselves, but to those around us. When we respond, we are stepping into our power. We are owning our emotions and relating to other's positions without feeling threatened. We understand that all feelings are valid and deserve respect and recognition, including those that run contrary to our own. We each deserve to have space held for our emotions. A balanced life is built on a foundation of responding, not reacting. 

In order to come from a place of responding we need to learn how to feel fully. This requires us to come back into our bodies... to have an in-body experience. One of the easiest ways to do this is by connecting with our breath. The next time you find yourself moving into reactiveness... becoming mired in fear, anxiety, defensiveness, judgment, criticism or blame... take a moment to breathe. 

First, locate where the feeling is in your body. Is it in your chest? Your belly? Your hands or feet? Once you discern where the feeling is in your body bring some awareness into that physical space. What does it feel like in your body where you are holding this emotion? Is it tight and constricting? Is it fluttering or trembling? Is it hot or cold? Full or empty? Does the feeling have a color? Do you get an image with the sensation? Really get into your body and get in touch. Once you have connected with the full scope of the feeling, begin to breathe into the location in your body where you are holding this sensation. Imagine your breath traveling inside that space, around it, above it and below it. Keep breathing into the area where your body is holding this feeling. 

Sometimes we are physically constricting our emotions to the extent that we have cut off circulation, preventing nurturing energy from coming in. This is evident when the breath gets 'stuck' and is unable to reach the physical location in the body where the feeling is being held. This signals that there is something we are holding on to so very tightly. If we keep breathing into that tightness we can release the obstruction and allow our feelings to surface. The breath inspires and unlocks the feeling. Often, you will experience a physical sensation of release. This can manifest in many ways and will be different for each person. There is no 'wrong' way to experience this release. Trust what comes forward. 

For some, the tears may begin to flow. Others may notice a shaking happening within, almost like a soul rattle dislodging years of pent-up emotion with its vibration. You may even notice that you release the feeling audibly through sighs, moans, or other sounds. Stay out of judgment. Don't bother trying to make sense of it. Let it be and trust in the body's wisdom to know exactly what you need for release. 

You can use your breath to release any emotion. If you have a feeling of being cut-off from your inner world, take some time to come back into your body and breathe. Allow the inspiration to empower you so you can get clear on what your true needs are and can more effectively address your concerns. Feeling is healing. The more we can reconnect with ourselves, the more we move into response and find our entire beings coming into balance. Let yourself be inspired today.
 

"Mama" By, Shannon Elsom

~Mama~ 

By, Shannon Elsom 

Her light shines within me,
Illuminating...
Casting Her glow upon my shadowy depths.
Her Siren call entrancing,
I ebb and flow...
Her every murmur coaxing my tides.
Her love flows through me,
Slow and smooth...
Like black-strap molasses.
Thick and moist...
As a balmy summer's eve.
Intoxicating me with her essence...
Perfumed honey-wine.
Her secrets...
Like fruit ripened on the vine,
Bursting with the promise of juiciness.
She waits...
To be plucked and savored.
Her power grows inside me,
As ancient incantations...
Spun from the wise lips of Crones.
Her serpentine rattle calls my soul to dance,
Tracing sacred circles...
All move and breathe to the rhythm of Gaia's drum.
Her presence watches over me,
As raven, moon...
Sky, claw.
In the pools of Her eternal gaze,
My own vision is washed clear...
Baptizing my eyes in beauty.
I stare into the face of the Goddess,
My reflection...
In the Cosmic mirror. 

Persephone's Return

About a year ago, I embarked on a mystical journey. It has been a long winding road and I have only arrived at my destination in recent weeks. I have been doing some deep emotional processing around the traumatic events I experienced 14 years ago. It was time for me to go right into the center of this pain, rage, shame, and fear so I could lay it to rest. It was essential for me to face this demon head on in order to forgive... the past, all those who wounded me, and most importantly, myself. I needed to forgive myself for misplacing my trust and for being human... susceptible to vulnerability and fragility. 

For many years I felt shame because of that softness. Now I see that my strength is in my courage to wear my heart on my sleeve. My love is my power. It matters not if others can't meet me in this space or jest at the expression of my very real feelings. This is more a reflection of their inadequacies, not mine. 

Many have scoffed at my desire to forgive. They don't understand how I could move into that place of emotional readiness considering what I have been through. Forgiveness, at its heart, is not so much about the other. It is a gift of release you offer yourself. Forgiveness does not mean you excuse the transgression. It is not a statement that what happened to you was acceptable or just, certainly not if you were treated with cruelty. Forgiveness means you are no longer willing to carry that pain. It is a refusal to play the role of victim. When you forgive, your martyr days are over. You are ready to reclaim your power and let that wounding lie buried in the dust of the past. Forgiveness sets your soul free. For this reason, I forgive all those who caused me such great pain 14 years ago. I lay that turmoil down in peace because it is not my burden to bear. 

Earlier this year, I did something rather radical and unconventional in my attempt to recover the little girl gone lost. I never felt quite the same after my most severe bout of anorexia. I always sensed that a piece of my soul was missing, locked frozen in time, attached to the traumatic events that have kept me imprisoned all these years. Those events... all the hurtful things people I cared for said to me, being abandoned and forgotten... have haunted me through an endless loop of memory.

I had read once of a shamanic practice called soul retrieval that spoke to me on an intrinsic level. Shamans believe that parts of our soul can sever and become attached to a period of time when a great trauma occurred. This causes the person who relinquished their soul part to feel this constant state of incompleteness, as if a piece of them is missing. Often the individual will not be able to find peace and release from the original wounding. This keeps their life in a somewhat bound state where it is impossible to move forward or to feel whole. It's like living life in reverse... seeing present experiences through the eyes of the past. I resonated with this when I read it. It spoke to a very deep part of me. Earlier this year, I decided to seek out a shaman for a soul retrieval. 

I found a woman to work with who has extensive experience with shamanism. She apprenticed for many years with the Kahunas in Hawaii. Both her and her husband have been doing shamanistic work for well over 20 years and are deeply respected. They are held in high regard in the healing community. I spoke with her at length, explaining where I felt stuck and how this had affected me all these years. She agreed a soul retrieval was in order. This would be carried out in ritual over several lengthy sessions which she performed for me on a donation only basis, making her the real deal and not some new-agey charlatan. 

Prior to my first session, I ran into a friend who had also gone through a soul retrieval. She warned me not to do it. She expressed that it was the most intense thing she had ever been through. After her ritual had been completed she found herself in a deep state of grief. For a year solid all she could do was sob and take salt water baths in an effort to cleanse herself of the energy that seemed to be ripping her open from the inside out. 

I asked her how she felt now that she had passed through that dark valley and come out the other side. She responded that she felt whole... complete. That was enough validation for me. I felt it was worth the spiritual initiation if it meant I could recover myself. I bit the bullet and never looked back. 

The ritual work was potent. It is one of the most profound mystical experiences I have ever had and that's saying a lot. I've had some doozies. I had to keep a very open mind and stay out of fear which was a challenge because the power that was raised was so palpable... so formidable. It is not something to be toyed with. At the same time, there was this odd sense of familiarity... something ancient, rooted, and deep ... as if encoded in my DNA. There was almost a spirit of homecoming as the drum droned on with its earthy beat and I was lulled into journeying by the sound of chanting and tribal song. 

I worked with this shaman on three separate occasions to complete my soul retrieval. At first, it felt as if lifeblood had flowed back into my veins. There was an energy present that had been absent for so many years. I also began to reconnect with old parts of myself. I was called to renew my spiritual practice. Former interests resurfaced. Even friends I had not seen in many, many moons began to re-enter my life. I was starting to feel like myself again and that was a wonderful feeling after being cut off for so long. In general, it was all gravy baby. 

However, there is another side to the soul retrieval process that must be completed before your soul parts can be integrated... walking through the shadow. This is like a rubber-band effect. Picture a traumatic time in your life... the people who surrounded you back then, the feelings you were feeling, the experiences you were having. Now imagine being transported back to that space and reliving that experience as your present self. This is the final stage of the soul retrieval and the part my friend discussed that she said was so gut-wrenching. I now know all too well why she gave me that warning.

The past month, I have gone through the shadow. It exacted a devastating blow. I can't say I would have gone through my soul retrieval had I known the magnitude of the experience that awaited me, but there's no use crying over spilled milk. What's done is done and in my heart of hearts, I do believe I had to go there. I say this because despite the searing pain of spiritually reliving these traumas on every sensory level, I have my power back. That is priceless. I know my power will never be stripped of me again. I am certain of this because the woman I stand now will never give it away so carelessly as I did in my youthful folly. I have graduated from the princess to the queen and will not suffer fools idly as I did in the past because of my hunger for approval. I approve of myself now and do not seek validation in any other's eyes. 

Some would look at the experience I have gone through over this past month and believe I must be mad to endure such an initiation into life's mysteries. I care not for the opinions of those who cannot even begin to fathom my intense need to have my full self restored. It's an unbearable pain to walk through life as a phantom because you are bound and tethered to a past of sorrow. It keeps you from being present... from drinking in all the beauty and wonder that surrounds you now. I was not willing to continue to live like that... empty and devoid. I paid a high price for my soul's return but in the end, it was worth it. 

I cannot express the depth of emotion that has been unleashed from the pit of my being over these last 4 weeks. This was beyond grief. It was as if my spirit was wailing... howling like a Banshee... and there seemed no bottom to it. It was like free falling into a cavern of despair. It was like falling to my knees on that cold linoleum floor as an anorexic at the brink of death. 

Oh... and the rage. The rage was like fire running through the top of my head like a burning spear, engulfing me in flames. Consuming everything in its path that was a false idol. It was as if the Dark Goddess had been invoked to seek redemption. The venom spit out of me like the poison from a cobra's fangs. 

The fear had to be reckoned with. It rattled me in the late hours of the night, keeping me tossing and turning in my bed... breaking out into a cold sweat as if enraptured. My heart pounded in my chest like a bass drum. All my terrors paid their respects. 

On every level, I relived the events I suffered through 14 years ago. It was like slipping through a porthole and being transported back to that hellish place. Straddling the razor's edge... a foot in both worlds. All of my senses were engaged as if my past had become my present. The experience was so tangible. Though it was disturbing, powerful beyond belief, and fraught with an intensity the mind would have to bend to imagine, it was necessary. I had to walk through the realm of the forgotten to find myself. Now that I have, I will never abandon myself. Never again. 

Some hearts break because of wounds inflicted. My heart was broken open. I sit in gratitude for all those who tried to knock me down. You only made me a stronger, wiser, more powerfully fierce woman. You made me a wild woman and honey... wild women don't get the blues.

Living VS Surviving

I have had quite a week this week! Oh my, I just can't wait till things get back to "normal" again, LOL if there is such a thing. But yes there is, such a thing as normal. It's the day to day stuff, the routine and so on.

Anyways, hubby had surgery on his leg this passed Tuesday (he's doing well). He has been home and resting. My mother in-law so kindly took vacation time so that she could come over and help us out so that I didn't have to take time off of work and us both being off without pay would really have sucked!

I am so thankful for all that my in-laws have done for us. Something's happened to me this week that brought up a LOT of old scars. Well ya know, they aren't so old. They were feelings from back when I was going through starting our family. I had c sections for all 3 of our kids and that required a lot of help from our families.

I may not be the one in recovery this time around but man I was getting a taste of those old feelings. Needing the help this time so I could work. Knowing someone else is doing something at my house for my kids and family. Like folding my laundry! Oh my, ya so anyways. I calmed myself down because I hated the anxiety I was causing.

Looking back or shall I say, feeling back to how I used to basically live in those days it really occurred to me, I wasn't living I was surviving. I was getting in my own way, allowing my head to get clouded with twisted thoughts. Thoughts that I was a failure and incompetent as a person, a mother, a wife and everything else I was supposed to be.

I know none of that was true and isn't, I am so excited that I see this now. This time around I am looking around and seeing with an inner eye and not just these two eyes that people can see. I don't know how else to describe this but just seeing things in a whole new light. The more I get in my own way, the more I struggle. The more I struggle with my anxiety and mood swings, ya know, the ripple effect.

Living VS Surviving keeps popping into my head. Asking is this living or are you just surviving?

Surviving is being too afraid of the fire and just wrapping myself in layers. The layers mean so much protection. Always a reason for those layers. But where is the comfort? Where is the warmth and ambiance of the fire?

Fire is not just about surviving, it's about living! It's about using the fuel and adding to it. But if the chimney is blocked there is no out for the smoke and ya, that just makes a mess of things. You can't enjoy the fire and no matter how many layers you add the smoke will get you.

I choose to live! I choose to continue my journey and release these emotional layers I have been holding so tightly to. There living is surviving but having fun while doing it. It's about adding yourself to the picture and now putting myself on the list of life. I want it. I want to live and I want to have fun. I want my dreams man!

A Cautionary Tale

Lately, the girl in this picture has been howling, moaning, wailing from the pit of her soul... mourning for her death... calling her spirit back from the land of the forgotten. The girl is me. 

This snapshot was taken at the crossroads. A place in time when my life was hanging in the balance... teetering on the edge. If I had felt the presence of love and support, I may have been able to guide myself toward the light of freedom. Unfortunately, I was left alone to fight a battle it takes an army to wage. I quickly lost grasp of my lifeline, surrendering to anorexia. 

I write this piece from my heart. I write this piece for the nameless souls who have been abandoned. I stand and fight the good fight for those who have been stripped of their voices. I write this piece for my true loves... every brave soul taking the courageous stand to free themselves from the clutches of eating disorder. I write to give your pain expression for it is a pain that has been my travelling companion for most of my life. I write because I will not be silenced or shamed. It is time for my voice... for all of our voices... to be heard. 

At a time in my life when I desperately needed compassion and understanding I was discarded like so much trash. There are no words to express the wounding that was inflicted upon me. The words escape my lips just as the help I so direly needed escaped me in my darkest hour. It is my hope that by sharing my story I can encourage others to hold the light for those still walking through the shadow. 

When this photo was taken I was serving time in my own private hell. The pain I felt was unbearable. It took the sheer force of brute will to make it one day to the next. I was alive, but something inside of me was already fading away into the blackness. I knew of no other way to survive than to sever myself from all feeling. Enter Ana... 

Anorexia is not about being thin or fitting in with the 'it' crowd. Anorexia... any eating disorder really... is about cutting yourself off at the neck. It is about disconnecting from your body where your emotions are held so there is a sense of control over feelings that seem so threatening. It is a way to survive the pain that acts as a double edged sword, helping the individual to cope ineffectively as it also seals one's fate. 

When someone is struggling with eating disorder there is a profound sense of shame leading to isolation that crowds out all sources of connection and support. How loved ones show up for the eating disorder sufferer can make the difference between life and death. This is why I share my tale. So that others may learn from the harm that was cast upon me. 

This is my experience. I have let the ghosts of the past haunt the corridors of my soul for too long. I am ready to free this apparition so it may find peace in the Great Beyond. It is time for me to have my life... myself... back.

I have struggled with anorexia since the age of 11. The major events of my life have been marked with relapse. Usually relapse was brought on when life careened out of control due to mounting heartache and pressure, leaving me overwhelmed. Since I have always been the person to show up for others, I had adopted the facade of being the 'strong' one. The person who could take it... keep shoveling it in. 

In fact, this is a very common attitude for eating disorder sufferers. They don't believe they can trust anyone. They don't feel loved. They don't feel emotionally held. As a result, they adopt the steely stance that they don't need anyone. They can handle whatever is thrown at them on their own. We all need someone. 

As the individual becomes more and more isolated, shame begins to breed and spawn. Soon the only one the sufferer can trust is ED. This won't make sense to an outsider. How could it? Friends and family feel washed in confusion. How could the one they care so deeply for see self-abuse as a viable option? It is because of the sense of containment the eating disorder provides for the struggling individual. Suddenly, with ED in charge, emotions don't feel so threatening. The world doesn't appear so looming and large. There is the seduction of self-mastery. A cynicism takes hold convincing the eating disorder sufferer that everyone else is oblivious... they don't have a clue... only ED gets it. 

Sadly, most do not know how to show up for the person ensnared in eating disorder. The condition travels further down the spiral while loved ones sink into dismay. To help prevent another from being left alone the way I was I am going to share a cautionary tale for all those who love someone who is fighting this battle. This tale illustrates what not to do. 

I was 23 at the time and worked as a manager in a record store. For all intents and purposes, it should have been a carefree time in my life. It was anything but. My boss was extremely abusive. He sexually harassed me and when his attempts to woo me left him empty-handed, he would call me into the back office to degrade me... hurling every obscenity at me in the book. He humiliated me by following me out on my breaks and tearing me apart in front of the other employees and shoppers at the mall. I had made every attempt to get corporate heads to address this matter, all to no avail. My finances were extremely tight and I was struggling to make ends meet. I couldn't just up and quit my job. I was seeking other employment, but nothing was coming through. 

I was also dealing with personal issues. I was nursing a broken heart and dealing with volatile situations that were pushing every last one of my buttons. The ground was moving beneath my feet. There was not one area of my life that was not impacted at this time. My whole world was caving in around me. Everything I believed in... everything I held dear... everything that carried meaning for me... was being systematically stripped of me. The pain became too much for me to bear. I fell back into a relapse of anorexia because it was the only way I knew to create a sense of safety for myself. 

As the weight began to slide off my body, I received lots of attention and praise. Everyone wanted to know how I was doing it. This was like giving me a treat for doing a trick. I had always been so desperate for approval. To receive this admiration only stoked the fire of the eating disorder. I became more deeply entrenched. What started out as starving, existing off little more than coffee and cigarettes, soon became a deadly cocktail of wasting, purging, exercising for hours on end, diuretics, and laxatives. It was the worst case scenario in recovery terms. I'm a statistical oddity... a miracle. By all accounts I should be six feet under. 

The more weight that dropped, the more gushing approval came in. I became addicted to the feeling of being accepted, even though it was a false acceptance. I was not being valued for who I truly am. I was being exalted for fitting into society's norms... for emulating the images on fashion runways and Hollywood red carpets. I was being celebrated for a facade. The real me slipped further out of view... bound and silenced. 

As my situation became more desperate the divide widened. Soon, gone were the accolades, replaced by mean-spirited jeers, teasing, and taunting. My co-workers nicknamed me Karen Carpenter and were having a good laugh at my expense. They chuckled that someone must have put a gypsy curse on me as in Stephen King's "Thinner". I was labeled as weird... a freak. It's all fun and games until you are at the roulette table gambling away your life. Even though I was wearing my pain like a suit of armor for all to see, no one extended a hand to help. Instead my suffering was met with mockery. My shame escalated driving me deeper down into the abyss. I felt threatened... unsafe... and my devotion to Ana grew. 

Ana was always there for me. 'She' didn't tease or chide. 'She' let me feel in control as my whole world was sliding off the map. That was a hell of a lot more than I could say for most people around me at that time. I did have a couple people who clumsily reached out to me. At least they showed they cared. Although it may not have seemed to make a difference at the time, it was those few souls who helped me survive the unsurvivable. May the blessing of their kindness return to them a thousand fold. If you get anything out of what I am sharing it is this... 

Reach out and connect with the eating disorder sufferer in whatever way you can. Do not worry about falling short. Worry instead about doing nothing or worse yet, inflicting cruelty. The only way you will fail your loved one is if you keep them in isolation. As long as you use compassion as your guide, you are making a difference, even when this is not readily apparent. 

I hit bottom at 85 lbs. I had been vomiting large amounts of blood daily. My organs were sliding into failure. My cognitive functioning escaped me. In this state of desperation a small still place inside of me reached out for help. It was a last ditch effort. My call for help was met with ridicule and rejection. 

I remember feeling as if I was slipping away after I hung up the phone. I buried myself under my blankets, curled up into a little ball. Time was suspended as I lay still... barely breathing. Hours must have passed before I made my way to the bathroom. 

In that moment, the veil was lifted. I tore off my clothes and stood in front of the mirror naked, taking in my true reflection... an image that had eluded me for months despite the concerned comments of a select few. In that instant, I saw the ravages of anorexia on my body. It appeared the Grim Reaper had already arrived to claim my soul. Skin and bones... nothing more. A casing of a woman who once was... a little girl gone lost. The harshness of the image awakened me. I sunk to my knees on the cold linoleum and there I rested in the fetal position for three days solid, mourning the death of the girl I once knew. A part of me died that day. A part I have only reclaimed in recent months. 

I should have been hospitalized, put on a heart monitor and feeding tubes. Someone, anyone, should have given a shit. That was not my experience. Three days was all I had to pull myself together. I went back to working my 12 hour shifts while I sucked up the merciless humiliation heaped upon me while others laughed gleefully at my demise. My pain was a joke. My life was a joke. I was the punchline of a cruel joke only I wasn't laughing. 

There is no way to capture the level of disconnect this created within me. I froze up inside. The only way I could survive was to lock away the old me...  steeling her away to a secret passageway in my soul. 

I recently retrieved the key to my prison and set myself free. I have been processing the rage, shame, and deep grief that I have numbed myself from experiencing for 14 years. I have allowed myself to sing my soul song... to belt it out with a warrior's cry on the path of redemption. I have called my soul parts back across the valley of the exiled. I have mended what was once severed, making me whole. I am in ownership of myself... my power returned. I will never be that broken girl again. Nothing can touch me after walking through that fire. No one can harm me because I will never abandon myself again. 

During the period of my last stand with anorexia, I wrote a poem expressing the pain of being discarded and taunted during my time of great need... 

~Jaded~
By, Shannon Elsom

You smiled...
And I felt the knife turn within my breast
The pain was not present for myself...
Nor for all my afflictions endured
But for you...
The lonely one
Smiling like a Cheshire cat

Oh, the soft lies we sell...
To make the simple so complex
Did you not know that plastered grin had cracked your mask?
Seeping through the facade...
A trail of tears that spread like the horizon
Making your smile appear more the frown
In my eyes 


If you or someone you love is struggling with eating disorder, please, reach out for help. Call in professional support. You can find assistance by contacting NEDA (The National Eating Disorders Association)... 

http://www.edap.org/ 

This is a situation that calls for outside help. For the sake of the one you love, please don't attempt to carry this on your own. 

Recovery happens and it is worth every step taken on the path... through all the tears, the rage, the grief. I stand present, a woman who has crossed the divide. I must say, the grass is greener on the other side. Don't give up. Life is worth it. Beauty is everywhere and that beauty is within you. Home is where the heart is and it resides in your soul. I will hold a light through my living example that everyone who struggles with eating disorder will find their way back home.


"Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle." ~Plato