Chirping

 

 

I have bionic ears. 

Seriously.

I hear the tiniest things…the softest whispers…I’ve even heard someone picking a lock four rooms away. When it’s quiet, and a small noise happens, my ears twist toward the sound…like a cat’s. When I play music, I rarely turn the volume past three…headphones are quite overwhelming at times. Needless to say, I’m not a fan of clubs or pop concerts…symphonic concerts and operas are my style, and even then, there are some rather loud moments that make it hard for me not to cover my ears. 

My ears are also sensitive to high pitches and frequencies. I have a hard time listening to string ensembles or pipe organs, because the harmonics are louder than the fundamental and I can never figure out what note is actually being played. It doesn’t help that after sitting next to a piccolo (which I loathe) during music school, my left ear is now 1/4 of a step flatter in its hearing than my right ear. 

Enter the chirping smoke alarm. 

On August 8th, I came home to discover that a smoke alarm was chirping. I checked every room in my house multiple times. I listened through all the shared walls to my neighbor’s house…using all sorts of devices to magnify the sound for one ear, and deaden the sound for the other. I checked the garage underneath my house. Multiple times. Finally, after three days, I concluded that a nearby neighbor is the proud owner of the chirping smoke alarm. I figured they must be away on vacation because no one would knowingly just let a chirping smoke alarm continue to chirp.

Not so. A week passed. I considered many options to confronting my neighbors, but I always came back to the issue of not knowing exactly which neighbor it is…and not wanting to be considered “The Crazy One.” 

That same week at work, I passed two different buildings that also had chirping smoke alarms. At first I thought my brain was creating the sound due to my neighbor’s incessant contribution to noise. However, as I scoped them out, I realized that no, these were, indeed, chirping smoke alarms. I was grateful that I couldn’t hear them from my office.

The next week, I went to visit a girl-friend who lives several hours away. We met for dinner, and when we stepped into her home, her smoke alarm began chirping…loudly. I hollered at it, and turned to my friend and said, “I don’t care if this doesn’t bother you, I’m fixing this bugger!” Fortunately, she heartily agreed, and we spent the next 30 minutes calming our rattled nerves with tea.

The following week, I went to a restaurant, and, sure enough, there was a chirping smoke alarm. I turned to my dinner companion and said, “You’ve got to be kidding me! How is it possible that everywhere I go has a chirping smoke alarm?!”

At home that evening, my neighbor’s chirping serenade still ever present, I realized that there might be a bigger reason behind all of these smoke alarms. I’d had more than three of these pop into my life, and the insistence and frequency indicated that there might be a rather important message behind them.

After another couple weeks of meditating on what that message might be, I heard this:

Come into yourself.

Pull all your energy and energetic connections off of everyone and everything, and bring it all back to you and your Divine Line.

Gently release all attachments to people, events, places, and things, and instead, increase your attachment to only yourself and your life’s journey here as a multi-dimensional being.

Lift all your tools and mastery and wisdom off of everyone and everything, and bring them back to your Divine Line at the level of your Higher Self, cleansed, cleared and recalibrated.

Deepen your commitment to only yourself and your life here as a multi-dimensional being, and use your tools, wisdom, and mastery on you and for you…not on or for anyone or anything else. Everyone has their own available to them…just show them how to access it and use it for themselves so that everyone is in a place of energetic integrity and wholeness from a place of personal responsibility rather than co-dependence.

Practice connecting to others from this place of your Divine Line, rather than putting energetic lines onto others, by radiating your essence from this place, allowing others to reflect it back to you…rather than basing the quality of your life on your circumstances.

Feel the immense and unlimited support available for you from within your Divine Line…feel the wealth of potentials, dreams, possibilities, resources, and love. Sit in this energy…relish it…receive it…claim it, for it’s yours. 

Then wait…expectantly…ready to take the next step when it’s time…for it’s soon.

It’s now been almost eight weeks since this started. My neighbors continue to treasure their relentless tune, and I still hear those alarms as I walk to and from work each day. But, rather than be consumed by irritation (I’m now only occasionally irritated), I now realize that I can use these as reminders. Reminders to come into my essence…to be powerful from within, and to feel the support from within…releasing others from the obligations of supporting, encouraging, seeing, or doing anything toward or for me…they can just be

My neighbor’s alarm just chirped.

I go ever deeper into my essence.

My soul soars in freedom.

 

Assurance

Yesterday, I saw two of these within five minutes of each other. And while there wasn’t a third one, I was surprised to discover that I was expressing gratitude at my inner reaction…or rather, the lack of the usual reaction, and the new one that is taking its place.

When beginning the process of dreaming a bigger dream, I had many many doubts as to the reality of it ever coming true. My dreams seemed so big and so out of reach and so impossible…the idea that they could happen to me was ludicrous. While a part of me did believe that anything is possible…and I still do…I just couldn’t reconcile the gap of reality between where I was and where my dreams were. Whenever I saw my threes, I felt my insecurities…my unworthiness…and the vast divide separating me from my dreams seemed too big for any bridge to span in this lifetime.

The threes became slivers of hope after a while…hope that even though I couldn’t quite believe in my dreams, I knew that someone did, and I held on to that other’s hope in me…hoping that one day I’d be able to carry that hope and certainty for myself.

Today, as I only saw two, I realized that the insecurities are almost gone…definitely, the unworthiness is gone. There was a calm sense of certainty…of knowing…of assurance…that not only were my dreams possible, but that they actually were going to come true. 

I smiled.

My soul danced.

Gratitude Journal Entry #19

 

Tonight, I’m grateful for journeys. I’m grateful for all those difficult and challenging times that have led to deeper and more intimate relationships…both within myself and with others. I’m grateful for life-long companions on this journey, and for the acceptance and support we offer each other.

I’m grateful for alone time to integrate lessons and experiences…and silence to support the process. I’m grateful for the companion in the ocean as I process in silence…her ebb and flow allowing me to release all that no longer serves me.

I’m grateful for language that allows me to think, and to communicate thought with others. I’m grateful for my life…that is so much more messy, complicated, uncertain, filled with gray areas, and ever-changing…and that it’s ever so much richer in love because of that.

I’m grateful for chocolate pudding that often makes a new perspective see-able.

I’m grateful for my favorite library patron who flung his three-and-a-half-year-old pool-soaked body into my arms…and the pure ecstasy that followed for us both.

I’m grateful for details that reveal so much about everything in life.

I’m grateful for small gestures that carry significant implications and tilt the world dramatically.

I’m grateful for passion.

I’m grateful for humanity.

I’m grateful for lowering inhibitions.

I’m grateful for community.

I’m grateful for love.

 

Emergence

As one begins the process of emerging, one finds words again…able to organize thoughts into coherent lines…have a bit more energy…feel restless. By the end of June, everything is back online again…fully functional, even though I know things are different. It is as though I’ve been hiding in a cave for six months, and have just stepped out…blinded by the light…realizing loneliness…desiring connection with others.

Three weeks later, after practicing my new “feet” and “balance” in my new self, I set off on a month of adventures. I revisit old, familiar places…finding pieces of myself from 10 years ago that I have left behind. I meet, talk, and commune with people…some of whom I haven’t seen in over 10 years…some of whom live many states away and hadn’t planned to see me. Again, I see myself reflected back to me in new ways. Old stories challenged. Old memories challenged. Nothing is quite like I remember it, and yet…I am still there…left behind like a hidden, shameful secret. Professionally, I learn new skills, confronting and pushing through barriers I didn’t know I held for myself. My temporary colleagues reflect back to me my confidence and competence…my passion and my sensitivity, and again, I pick up pieces of myself that I had forgotten even existed.

As the pieces keep coming back to me, my internal peace increases. Where once I would have been terrified to be seen fully and completely for who I am, I gradually begin to realize the safety that exists within me. As internal safety increases, my confidence increases…with startling reactions. People flock to me. They share their souls’ yearnings and dark questions…as though I somehow have answers for them. Of course I don’t. All I can offer is the assurance of safety in pursuing individual paths by staying internally connected. By the time I leave two weeks later, my heart overflows with an abundance of love, joy, and gratitude for the blessings that consume me.

A week later, I journey to another place for a few days. Again, I am confronted with pieces of myself in places with old family history. Grandparent history and family culture history. I see family patterns and stories in new ways, and see my child self in a new light…and I am filled with compassion for her. Again, stories are rewritten…and my place and purpose changes. Again, as my pieces come home, I am startled at the response…an unknown woman stops her truck, rolls down her window, stares at me in awe, and finally tells me that I look absolutely stunning…wishing she could tell me specifically why.

A few days later, I travel to another state. For the first time, I’m completely unorganized and unprepared for a trip. I barely make the airport shuttle and am completely rattled by the time I sit down. As I go within, seeking calmness, I discover an incredible amount of love and compassion. I choose to just sit in that space the entire trip to the airport. Once there, and easily through security, I discover that the flight is delayed. Mildly annoyed due to eagerness to reunite with family on the other end, I wander into a bookshop…always my first place of solace. I realize that I will be purchasing at least one book, so I consciously intend that only books with a life-long impact will make their way into my hands. I leave with the book “Aleph” by Paolo Cohelo.

As the flight takes off, I marvel at my surrounding companions. No one is quite together or controlled. Across the aisle is a tall, black, gay man, clearly terrified of flying, who retreats to a world of lyrically expressive rap…vocalized…volume increasing with his fear. Two rows back sits a family from India, the small boy addicted to kicking the seat in front of him. In between them is a father and son, connected to the mother and daughter sitting next to me. Because their children want the window seats, I’m in the middle of the passing of anything and everything between the two sides of the family. Behind me is a row of women who must have some sort of water issue, for there is rarely five minutes of time that passes without one of them exiting to the restroom…pulling my hair every time. In front of me is a young man, wearing role-playing clothes, a long ponytail and a choke collar. Next to him is a woman in her late sixties, clinging to her youth with her brightly and badly colored red hair, botched plastic surgery, and a smoker’s cough. In front of her is a young woman in her 30s, also embracing the goth culture, clearly smitten by the handsome 20-something Australian men to her left. In order to gain their attention, she puts on her massive headphones and starts to fully rock out in her seat…rarely does her derriere touch the seat for any length of time. Between songs, she turns to talk loudly to the young man in front of me, until he resorts to rocking in his seat…at which point, she talks to the red-haired woman. The Australian young men look around for another place to sit…trying not to panic because there are no other seats open on the flight. It is precisely at this moment, realizing that nowhere else on the plane is there a solitary twitch of movement, how fortunate I am. I’m surrounded by people fully embracing who they are and fully living in the moment. I’m surrounded by people who are unafraid to connect with those around them…creating a network…a web of memories that no one else in the plane will experience.

As the week unfolds, the plane’s lessons stay with me. In the gift of the web of connection with my chosen family…all strongly and beautifully flawed, completely open in brutal honesty…I again discover pieces of myself. Pieces that I’ve left with them…in stories we share…stories that we now realize we want to rewrite. So we do. We recreate ourselves and our web…piece by piece…into a strong foundation of a richer, deeper, more compassionate community.

On my last night of my adventures, exhausted with joy and memories and sorrow at separation, I read this in “Aleph”:

“I skim an article about Chinese bamboo. Apparently, once the seed has been sown, you see nothing for about five years, apart from a tiny shoot. All the growth takes place underground, where the complex root system reaching upward and outward is being established. Then, at the end of the fifth year, the bamboo suddenly shoots up to a height of twenty-five meters.”

I stop.

I realize, I’m completing my fifth year.

I’ve emerged and am reconnecting…preparing to shoot up twenty-five meters.

Stay in the flow…massive change is about to happen.

Trust.

Be Joyful.

Be Peace-filled.

Be Love-filled.

Be.

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