How do we ground and stabilize ourselves in the midst of a haunting? A Most useful skillset — t.me/johannabotanica
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2015-2016 Austin, Texas reading by Megan Elizabeth Morris • t.me/maxmoradio • Listen to #MissionMettā | Medicinal Storytime | Clarissa Pinkola Estés | IPR by M
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2015-2016 Austin, Texas reading by Megan Elizabeth Morris • t.me/maxmoradio • Listen to #MissionMettā | Medicinal Storytime | Clarissa Pinkola Estés | IPR by M
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So I reached my arm
My whole arm
Down into the gullet of the toilet
I could not find the clog
I felt nothing
Only dark shitty water
And the sacred silent void
Of the abyss absorbing
My every movement
And intention
And the water level remained
At the rim of uncertainty
Color of deep rich soil
Single porcelain pool, that liquid eye
Gazing at me
Scrying
20221116-120927
t.me/IntuitiveColon/11
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Jason Breshears of Archaix: There Is A Wizard Within You • youtube.com/watch?v=_-Jjh880ZiI • t.me/IntuitiveUnknown/2449, t.me/Esomancy/72, t.me/EsoExp/575

Jason Breshears of Archaix: There Is A Wizard Within You • youtube.com/watch?v=_-Jjh880ZiI • t.me/IntuitiveUnknown/2450, t.me/Esomancy/73, t.me/EsoExp/576

You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.

- C.S. Lewis

Beautiful Medicine ~ by Stasha Ginsburg/ The Wild Matryoshka
Still true.
Scar Clan is a term coined by Clarissa Pinkola Estes in Women Who Run with the Wolves, meaning “that timeless tribe of women of all colors, all nations, all languages, who down through the ages have lived through a great something, and yet who stood proud.”
“It is a good idea,” Estes writes, “for women to count their ages, not by years, but by battle scars. ‘How old are you?’ people sometimes ask me. ‘I am seventeen battle scars old,’ I say. . .
Make no mistake about it. If you are asked your nationality, ethnic origin, or blood line, smile enigmatically. Say, ‘Scar Clan.’ ”
I have been following a deeper trail into the underworld journey of story and scar, shadows and blooms. Perhaps you are too.
In case you find yourself spinning in stories that keep your mind spinning, it might be helpful to remember:
that we all contain stories
and many of these stories contain stars
and many of these stories contain scars
and sometimes we do battle with our stories
and sometimes our stories are fragmented shards
and sometimes we need to dive deeply to the below the below
to retrieve lost pieces.
You know Hans Christian Andersen’s tale of the Snow Queen? Its a different form of Elsa and Frozen...in that tale, a shard of ice freezes a young heroine, a shard from the Ice Queen herself, a shard that freezes an aspect of her soul and hardens and darkens it. It grows darker and harder and harder and darker. Shadow is as hard territory to navigate sometimes. And stories bloom strangely within her contours.
Sometimes we have scars we do not remember getting, or know how we got them or what the story did to us that made it happen that way, and we want to figure out and make meaning and make story.
Sometimes there is no way to make meaning. But the story when splintered can make stories of its own and spin them and harden them and sometimes they act out of us unconsciously.
All this to say, when diving into the land of story, especially those stories that were made pre verbal, during early childhood or in the womb, there is much we will and may never know, intellectually.
We sometimes have to feel our way through the darkness for a while. Through the muck. The territory of caterpillars and darkness.
We sense and we give voice to feelings and we free things that perhaps we need to say but which do not make sense the way that we want things to make sense. We give permission to the 2 year old or the 4 year old or the baby inside of us, to have a voice.
And we listen. And carve space for miracles. And sense and listen. And stop forcing, and stop spinning
and one day, when we least expect it, something cracks open. A bell rings, an aha goes off, and butterflies emerge from out of the dark cracks.
The ice melts.
The shard releases its power where energy was stuck
and we release emotion
which is energy in motion
and we are free
more and more
here now, more and more
becoming more and more
whole.
Stories are medicine.
Scars are too.
Words: Stasha Ginsburg
The Wild Matryoshka
The Wild Remembering
Image: Beth Conklin

You can't go back and change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.

- C.S. Lewis

my brain and
heart divorced
a decade ago
over who was
to blame about
how big of a mess
I have become
eventually,
they couldn't be
in the same room
with each other
now my head and heart
share custody of me
I stay with my brain
during the week
and my heart
gets me on weekends
they never speak to one another
- instead, they give me
the same note to pass
to each other every week
and their notes they
send to one another always
says the same thing:
"This is all your fault"
on Sundays
my heart complains
about how my
head has let me down
in the past
and on Wednesday
my head lists all
of the times my
heart has screwed
things up for me
in the future
they blame each
other for the
state of my life
there's been a lot
of yelling - and crying
so,
lately, I've been
spending a lot of
time with my gut
who serves as my
unofficial therapist
most nights, I sneak out of the
window in my ribcage
and slide down my spine
and collapse on my
gut's plush leather chair
that's always open for me
~ and I just sit sit sit sit
until the sun comes up
last evening,
my gut asked me
if I was having a hard
time being caught
between my heart
and my head
I nodded
I said I didn't know
if I could live with
either of them anymore
"my heart is always sad about
something that happened yesterday
while my head is always worried
about something that may happen tomorrow,"
I lamented
my gut squeezed my hand
"I just can't live with
my mistakes of the past
or my anxiety about the future,"
I sighed
my gut smiled and said:
"in that case,
you should
go stay with your
lungs for a while,"
I was confused
- the look on my face gave it away
"if you are exhausted about
your heart's obsession with
the fixed past and your mind's focus
on the uncertain future
your lungs are the perfect place for you
there is no yesterday in your lungs
there is no tomorrow there either
there is only now
there is only inhale
there is only exhale
there is only this moment
there is only breath
and in that breath
you can rest while your
heart and head work
their relationship out."
this morning,
while my brain
was busy reading
tea leaves
and while my
heart was staring
at old photographs
I packed a little
bag and walked
to the door of
my lungs
before I could even knock
she opened the door
with a smile and as
a gust of air embraced me
she said
"what took you so long?"
~ john roedel

“Superlative Fiction”—INDIE SHAMAN Magazine Reviews the Award-winning SNOOZE: A STORY OF AWAKENING https://open.spotify.com/episode/0aCY22C0dQbMebGv4JA12y “Highly original fiction with more than a dash of the otherworld; well-developed characters, both male and female; excellent adventures; heartwarming conclusion and lots of wonderful ideas—what is there not to like? Highly recommended, a must-read.”

👁 CHAPTER 84 (of 84) of the Serialization of SNOOZE: A STORY OF AWAKENING—Read or Listen to This Award-winning Metaphysical Novel FREE Online https://solluckman.substack.com/p/chapter-84-of-84-of-the-serialization Could it be there’s no such thing as the paranormal … only infinite varieties of normal we’ve yet to understand?

“The House of Fantasy is built of stone and wood and furnished in High Medieval. Its people travel by horse and galley, fight with sword and spell and battle-axe, communicate by palantir or raven, and break bread with elves and dragons.
The House of Science Fiction is built of duralloy and plastic and furnished in Faux Future. Its people travel by starship and aircar, fight with nukes and tailored germs, communicate by ansible and laser, and break protein bars with aliens.The House of Horror is built of bone and cobwebs and furnished in Ghastly Gothick. Its people travel only by night, fight with anything that will kill messily, communicate in screams and shrieks and gibbers, and sip blood with vampires and werewolves.
The Furniture Rule, I call it. Forget the definitions. Furniture Rules.”― George R.R. Martin, The Complete Dreamsongs

NARRATIVE EXCERPT
from SECRET book release
upcoming 1 March 2023 (Saint David's Day).
Find at: t.me/IntuitiveHeartbeat/74.
Read on for associated nutrients.

This is a special publication.

You do not grub at an individual copy of this book with your hands, leaping after a digital or print release to own, ignore, or covet.

It is not a market ploy for theft of your hard-earned money, your sacred energy, or your time through artificial urgency.

This is an invitation, a journeying experience, a dream traveling, and a unique relational opportunity.

This book repairs neurology.

(Gosh, now -- something we all deerly need.)

When you invoke this journey, you step INto the book — into a collective body of the beings of the book — and when you have passed the solemn somatic and spiritual tests the book presents to you, you find yourself gradually blessed with a digital or hard copy you can hold in your worthy, honorable hands.

What kind of book could this be?

It is the body of a being for you to recognize, ground, and be embodied within.

It brings you the strength of your truest possible story.

It becomes a living reality.

This narrative is deepened in rootedness, wealth, and power flow activations.

Are you ready?

Visit this FTP share for excerpt text: intuitive.community/daily/heartbeat/20230209_Intuitive_Community_Daily_Heartbeat_Documentations_To_FTP.txt
Look to the first entry, 20230209, Intuitive Narrative.
Discover more at: t.me/IntuitiveHeartbeat/74

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At Her Loom • from an art series by Max Megan Elizabeth Morris with Midjourney AI • 4 March 2023 (Eagle 11 Serpent) •
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