I am facing many fears now. Today in this moment, moments also from yesterday and I’ll venture a guess also into tomorrow. I am in the pressure cooker, together with you, we all are.

I am sore, my heart aches of the pain of change and my bones scream of stretching density. Alive, I know I am. Awake also, I am. Learning I am, to be altered to be elevated.

She is afraid, seven years old, I can feel her small within me looking desperate for all the pieces that no longer look the way she had envisioned – that no longer feel easy. The deepest desires of my innermost heart seemingly so far away, but I can smell its sweetness, I know it is mine.

 Humbled then I sit, staring out of my formed orbs of sight into heavens formless flickering light. “I am coming for you she whispers”

“ Daytime did not fail because the sun set ”  – Kaypacha

One mask off, laying barren at my feat. Feat, of course no accident – to remove a mask and lay her emptied, hollowed out at my feet has been a fight to the death, has been a feat. This mask I lay tells me as she falls; she is the piece of me that keeps me from worship. She was keeping me from the deepest most sacred force of Self Worship.

When I was about 7 I was left with the neighbours children while my mother went for a much deserved afternoon away. There were three of them, two who were also 7 and the other who was about 12. All of us females. They left me outside on the curb of the street, I was told to stay still, and if I didn’t that I would be put into the laundry hamper. After about an hour I walked to the front door and asked to come in for water. The three of them locked me in the laundry hamper, from above my head they said “here’s your water” they poured water on my head, and spit on me. Why I am telling you this? First off, because I know you can relate. Secondly, because I was being taught on a spiritual level of a very old belief, that I was unworthy, that I was less than, that I deserved to be spit on, silenced and unheard. So in that moment, deep in that trauma I committed to believing it was so. They spit on the top of my head, they spit on my crown.  My crown is my saving grace, my crown chakra allows me, cultivates for me my duty and sacred calling on this earth. My crown is my life line. They, in their foolish innocence played out for my soul a paradigm I would be called to shift in this life time. The call to heal my Crown Chakra. To reinstate perfect, constant resonance with my ultimate being. With the wholeness of my consciousness.

I extend to my heart a devout and honest commitment to cultivating my ability to embody the truth of my Crown. Today, I am grateful to those three girls.

It is obvious to me now why I felt such deep sadness after my kundalini yoga class this evening. I don’t often feel anything other than bliss after kundalini, so I allowed the sadness; and her voice spoke of transformation. I offer this transformation to mother earth and to all her sentient beings. That we would all move into Worship, that we would all heal our Crown, that we would all move into wholeness.

To heal one, is to heal all.