Loving Trump
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While I recognize that this is a provocative headline - the intended provocation may not be for the reason that you think.

I have spoken before about the “resist” movement and how resistance only results in more of the same - pushing back. One cannot Stand United Against Hate without embodying a hateful stance themselves. We are hating the haters in this case. We can’t stand against something without being a part of it.

A shift in perspective (and effect!) is Standing United With Love. Loving the essence of another being sees the good, the commonality, our own face in the face of the other.

What we see, perceive and react against in others is a reflection of our own collective fear, outrage and intolerance. We have collectively created this world in such a model of scarcity and greed that the Earth will not be able to sustain us that much longer if we continue in this direction. She has been giving us warning signs all along.

But just as we have created this world as it currently is, we can change it. When we do this, incrementally, shift happens. But it doesn’t happen through violence or even resistance. That creates more of the same.

The way to create incremental and lasting change is through love.

Before you write this off as woo-woo or way too far out and groovy, stick with me for a second.

This in NO way precludes standing up for what we believe in. In fact, it supports it, but from a vastly more powerful stance. When we stand in our strength and sovereignty, will full faith in the conviction of our beliefs, we stand aligned with Truth. And Truth will ultimately prevail.

Where we start is in loving ourselves. Loving ourselves enough that we stop doing things like disparaging our bodies with chemical-laden food and other products, overworking, under-exercising, awful self-talk and not enough time in nature.

Yes, it takes time and commitment, but when we begin to really feel the love, we will begin acting outwardly with love - not in our usual more co-dependent way, but truly acting in love.

From this stance, our fear-based scarcity thinking that manifests as greed will lessen. We will no longer take more than our share - hoarding energy, food and other resources. There will be enough for everyone.

This isn’t Pollyanna. This is sacred truth.

We all need love. We all need to give it. We all need to receive it.

And that brings me to my headline. When a toddler throws a tantrum, what calms him down the most? What is he really asking for? It’s not a fight or more punishment. (Although at times, that appears to be better than no attention at all.)

What he is desperately begging for is to be loved. Not the apparent “love” of the whipped up followers. But real love. Love of his essence. The love that he never likely received as a child.

If we collectively begin to spend just a moment each day to send love to that tiny, precious child that was born in 1946 in Queens, New York a little softening may just begin to happen.

We might just see sparks of compassion here and there. And while his ego will certainly kick and scream at being perceived as anything less than the ego-maniacal beast that he has become, it may just make him one less trigger-happy finger away from the Ultimate Power Move.

I realize that this is very much of a stretch for most of us. But it certainly can’t hurt. And imagine what it will bring to each of us in consciously feeling love for another precious being on this planet in their most innocent form.

If all of this sounds a bit like the story of the Grinch, or Scrooge, it is because the basis of those stories is truth. Enduring truth that can save our country and ultimately our planet.

Maybe tomorrow, after we love ourselves up, send a little love his way.

Sharon Eisenhauer
The Stakes of the Stake
 eight of swords from the wild unknown tarot deck, by kim krans

eight of swords from the wild unknown tarot deck, by kim krans

For how long must we operate in our lives tied to a metaphorical stake? Powerless to move, to take care of ourselves, to free ourselves?

In a recent morning meditation, I began as I usually do - visualizing a golden ball of light floating above my head – my Soul Star. I breathe into this light anything that I’m holding: any negativity, any residue from within my body. Like a super-powerful magnet, it sucks up all of this shadow energy, burns it up and transforms it into Golden Light that I then pour throughout my body.

On that particular morning, I sensed what felt like a wooden stake running the length of my spine. No matter how I tried, I could not breathe this stake into the Light. It remained in my spine, with me tied to it.

Understandably disturbed, I continued with my meditation, grounding myself and attempting to move the energy. Then suddenly, I realized that I was capable of removing what was binding me to the stake. I had had this capability all along.

For how many lifetimes have I allowed myself to be bound in this way? There was no one outside of me attempting to burn me at the stake – not this time.

But I had so internalized this multi-generational message of shame, blame and guilt that I kept myself in that place - further heaping on the negativity and continuing to struggle, belittle and berate myself for the incessantly repeated messages with which I had been indoctrinated so long ago.

It wasn’t until that morning, a few weeks ago, that I recognized that I was capable of untying all of the places where I was bound to this metaphorical stake - this stake that I claimed as a Victim. This stake that I clung to out of familiarity, out of low self-esteem, out of the indoctrinated culture that tells me that I am less than and undeserving.

As the meditation continued, I unbound myself. Then I fell to the ground and wept with the realization that I was free and with the grief over having kept myself in that place for so long, not knowing that I was truly capable of releasing myself.

The release was not an instantaneous process. There remains the slight shadow of this wooden stick in my spine. But I’ve come upon a new vision to transform it. Placing my hands above my head, I pull the stake out, and as I do, the stake transforms into a gleaming sword – a sword that I can brandish fiercely in the face of that which would threaten to replace the bondage of Victimization.

And so I practice. Daily. Slicing into virtual bits the shards of the enemy, Victimization, that threaten my Sovereignty. Beware the enemy that seek to stake a claim to me again!

Dragon Smoke and Still Small Voices
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Like tendrils of smoke from a dragon’s nostrils, the steam rose from the surface of the heated onsen bath. Under the brilliant cornflower blue skies, golden aspens and gnarled pines I sat naked, soaking in the embrace of the warm, healing waters for my morning meditation.

Self-care. Attention to one’s deep soul-longings and desires. Loving one’s self. Feeding the feminine first. It is from this place of homecoming that I wish to walk into the world on a daily basis. It is from this place that I learn to listen to the “still small voice”.

That weekend at Ten Thousand Waves in New Mexico was a gift. The previous weekend, a “work” trip to Ventura, California, ended up being three days spent in the Santa Barbara mountains on a 1400 acre private property at the edge of the National Forest. For three days I was bathed in unconditional love, held by spiritual sisters in an unexpected initiation. The weekend ended with a breakfast in Ojai with a new friend that felt like a homecoming.

Trusting that we are held and that everything unfolds according to Divine plan is such a relief. Knowing that every choice we make will lead us to precisely where we need to be at that moment in time is a relief. We cannot make a mistake, because even our mistakes take us down a path laden with opportunity and learning if we choose to see it that way.

I have so much gratitude for the twists and turns of my life, and as I learn to tune in even more closely to my inner voice, I see and hear every single bit of guidance I need, moment by moment.

Not that I always listen. There are definitely times when the voice of my fear screams so loudly that I cannot hear the small one.

But I am learning to re-center myself. To get still. To ground myself by taking a walk or even just looking up at the sky and really seeing it. It is an exercise of my faith muscle that gets stronger with each repetition. It is opportunities like the gift of those past two weekends where I have the luxury of the time to be more deeply quiet.

On my way out of town on that transformative sojourn to Santa Barbara, I was dictating a text to a friend. Siri spelled her name Tammy, not Tami. My perfectionist self, of course, could not send a text with a typo.

As I picked up my phone at a red light to make the correction, that ever-knowing, ever-present, still small voice said, “Be careful. You’re going to get a ticket.”

As the light changed, the familiar red and blue lights flashed and I had to laugh. Traffic school, here I come.