The Epiphany That Changes Everything!

Image-Heaven:Earth2Do you ever feel like you don’t really belong here on Earth? I’ve felt like that most of my life. But I had an epiphany yesterday that changes everything!

Recently, as part of my preparation for stepping into my soul’s purpose in a bigger way, I have been engaging in some heavy-duty clearing of my own blocks. (Something I strongly recommend to everyone who longs to live their highest purpose.)

After several days of deep inner work, dredging the depths of my refusal to fully incarnate, my reluctance to take responsibility for my physical existence, to fully show up, give my gifts and do what I came here to do….

…I heard in my inner consciousness a phrase and realization that changes everything: Dual Citizenship!

And I heard myself saying: “I declare myself a dual citizen of Heaven and Earth! I accept dual citizenship!”

What I now see is that in order to bridge Heaven and Earth – the work we are here to do in this moment of history – we must hold dual citizenship and reside in both worlds equally. When we go back and forth, entering one zone often means losing the other. I have continually lost touch with practical reality when spending a lot of time in meditation, and have lost all sense of my spiritual connection when I got hunkered down in “regular life.”

Furthermore, to do our Sacred Work we must learn to stand fully in our power. But how can we do that if we’re not willing to really be here? It’s impossible. (Do you know what I mean?)

In my history this dilemma showed up early when, as a youngster, I was told by my parents and society that I had to choose. I had to accept the way things are, get a “real job” and be a “responsible citizen” – or be doomed to a fairly marginal existence without much power.

There was only one choice I could make – I chose Heaven.

What that meant was I lived as an artist and spiritual seeker not solidly rooted in the world of daily responsibility and getting by in pretty sketchy ways.

Actually, I lived much of my life frozen in a state of perpetual childhood because I refused to grow up. As a result, I gave up my right to participate fully in the world as an equal. I watched from the sidelines while others participated, burdened by the gifts I couldn’t give. That was the price of seeking escape from the harsher densities of Earth.

In recent years I’ve stepped more and more into the world, as the call to live my purpose and give my gifts has grown increasingly powerful. Yet still, as I did my clearing, I found remaining strands of fear, unwillingness, and doubt that I really belonged here. I was still holding back.

Until finally the revelation came – I can claim dual citizenship and live in both worlds at the same time. I can allow my soul to inhabit my body fully, and open wide the container for what wants to come through, rooted in Earth and open to Heaven.

I can now take a stand for all those seeking safe harbor in this most exquisite and fragile of worlds that divides body from spirit and love from survival.

I can do my best to help lift the energies and to heal what is split, so that all may freely live in both worlds at once. So that all may claim dual citizenship in Heaven and Earth.

Will you join me?

I’d love to hear from you about how these thoughts affect you. Do you have some of the same issues? If you do and would like help thinking them through … or if you’d like to know more about the powerful clearing tool I’ve been using and how you can benefit from it too  – please contact me!

After the Storm

This photograph is a hoax – a manipulation of two separate pictures perhaps passed off as real. However, to me it’s a work of art – a powerful image that is both an evocation and a metaphor.

I live in New York City. I am fortunate to live on high ground, in upper Manhattan. We didn’t lose power. The fierce rain and howling winds last Monday night, and the downed trees I saw the next day are tiny compared to the extreme and protracted suffering of so many of my fellow New Yorkers who live in more afflicted areas.

The storm wasn’t the only blow I’ve had recently, either. In completely unrelated events, I learned of the deaths of three people I have been close to, just within the past two months.

Now, I’m a firm believer in the continuance of life – vibrant life at that – after a person sheds their physical body. Yet I not only grieve my personal loss, but notice the pulling away of some of the underpinnings of my seemingly “solid” world.

By that I mean the familiar, the unquestioned conditions I’ve simply taken for granted – can you relate?

When things change it disturbs our equilibrium. We lose some of the foundations of our sense of safety and well being – which we didn’t even know we were relying on. The loss of these “unconscious supports” can make us feel strangely destabilized.

The supports I’m talking about could be my assumption that I can always pick up the phone and call someone – that they’ll always be there. Or my feeling of invulnerability because I think I live in a region that does not get dangerous weather.

That picture of the storm over the Statue of Liberty suggests to me the unexpected, threatening the security and freedom we take for granted – whether the threat comes as a storm, as a personal loss, or even in the form of political events that could radically  change our landscape.

I think it’s universal that we humans crave security, and so project permanence onto what is by nature going to change. I see myself doing that again and again, whether it’s with a relationship or even my own moods (go figure!).

How do you see yourself doing that? Have you suffered when you lost some form of unquestioned support? Can you think of conditions you “project permanence” onto now?

It is hard to hold the perspective of impermanence that the Buddhists prize so highly. The longing for stability lulls us. Our desire for that security goes back to being an infant in our mother’s arms – it is that instinctual and basic. We really can’t help it!

And yet, Buddhism also tells us that this is one of the chief sources of suffering. What can we do?

What I take away from this contemplation are two main lessons:

  1. Savor and cherish the fleeting, changing, sparkling, impermanent world, and allow the poignance of knowing it must pass increase its sweetness for you.
  2. Seek and find that which is not fleeting, that which is eternally present, from which all life and movement continually arise. Spend time abiding  there, in meditation and awareness.

The more deeply we are anchored in the ground of our being, the more joyfully can we surrender to the dance.