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Photo by Dennis Scholl

Photo by Dennis Scholl

The theme of Resurrection and Boundaries has been quite prominent in my life over the past several weeks. In some ways, I’ve felt like I’m coming out of the water and breathing air for the first time in a long time, the memory of breathing had been almost forgotten.

For the past six months, my life, again, has been in a constant state of change. I still find it curious that, after so many years of intense and constant change, that the continuation of it is also still so stressful at times. I know that life is movement…I think I’ve finally learned and accepted that truth. And yet, this change I’ve experienced is deep and profound…wordless in its all-encompassing destruction.

And, to be fair, I’ve created this change. I’ve asked for it. I have made this change of direction and internal health the single most important event of my life for seven years. My attention to manifesting the other side has been equally all-consuming. And the results are astonishing.

I’m here.

I did it.

I made it happen.

It actually worked.

Holy *&^$ @#&$  &#&$*@!!!!!!!

Now what?!

Well, now I learn to enjoy the fruits of my labor! I learn to slow down, adjust my energy fields to the now, and maintain all the abundance and support and commitment and peace and Love and joy and connection that is here now.

I resurrect into my new life with a greater understanding and appreciation for the lack of boundaries in it. I can define myself in whatever way I want.

And, I find it so fitting that this process is being reflected to me in my outer world through the artistic community. My local symphony recently performed Mahler’s Second Symphony, also known as The Resurrection, and my local art museum hosted an exhibit on aboriginal art, entitled “No Boundaries.”

As I sat, again, contemplating these aboriginal pieces…wanting to understand what I was seeing and simultaneously fascinated and drawn to them…I saw a paragraph in the exhibition catalogue that seemed to sum up this experience for me:

[For these painters, painting] came in their twilight years, at the time when most would be looking for a quiet retirement. In Western art, we are used to senior, established artists becoming fixed in their ways; stuck repeating the triumphs of their youth. For Aboriginal Australians it is the reverse: it is only because these men were assured in their identity and fully in command of their cultural corpus, that they could leave behind the comfort of old ideas.

So, if you are in the process of transformation, whether it’s in the beginning stages of awareness, discomfort of place, destruction, loss, internal isolation, glimpses of a new direction, seeing the synchronicity of life’s support as you rebuild, or the holding of the final product in your hands, rest assured. None of this could be possible unless you had completed something…assured in your identity and fully in command of your cultural corpus so that you could leave it behind in order to ascend to a new level…a new dimension…a higher existence.


You did it!

And so it is.