Ritual Union

intuitive herbal formulations

Month: December, 2015

The Lightening Rose

I woke up with the waning full moon the dawn after Christmas. I was rolling around in my heart, twinkling in the dream world a moment more.  I had bathed a dear friend in rose water.  I had witnessed her pray in a contemplative silence, a wee grimness cloaked her in a black cloth of grief. With each wash of rose water the heaviness of the world seemed to unlatch itself from her body and her spirits lightened.  Her smile exclaimed don’t miss any part of me! More and more of her rich and tonified spirit revealed through moments passing. I continued to rinse her with rose waters  until she entered a pure joy.  Apprently, that looks like white lingerie. There was a spirit in a body with a blinding light smile in white lingerie standing before me. Free, whole, and ecstatic feeling radiance came from her from the core to the skin and beyond. Her sun was born.

The previous night she talked with me in a dream. We conversed about the art of manifesting creativity, which to me is joy – it was sobering and clear that this process is a direct dream meditation to slide into waking conscious knowledge.  We spoke our dream words into an infusion of running water and Fulgarite.  The power of the physical lightening transplanted into our bodies. With the motivation to harness the beauty of life through love, I thoughtfully gathered myself when I awoke. I strayed from the house, the recent flourish of December roses leading my dewy eyes.  Into Austin I roamed, hoaned into the hynotic power of the rose. Being a native Central Texan, I am used to the warm winters. I felt saturated with the comfortable stillness of the pre-storm overcast. Gently stimulated by the slightest color I set foot to meet nearly every rose out there.

All aside, on a peaceful mission, with the adventure comes lessons. I had humanly thought, what a sweet and undramatic day it would be to harvest roses and gratefully make hydrosol. I had witnessed the pleasures it provided time and time again to people I saw on my path. So heavily surprised was I to see how much I needed this medicine. How it settled us humans just in presence.  It made us soften. It made the stoic smile.  Yet, I still had a few instances in the day of strife with my feelings and angry and guarded outbursts . Yes, call me a flower child but also a real human being. I began to reflect on the many times I had asked the universe to guide me into true love. I gently acknowledged the work that came with this prayer by having some compassion for myself. Just like a rose, love has many shapes, colors, tastes, and aromas.  Peace seems like a jig saw puzzle sometimes, jenga to be more exact. The removal of obstacles to get in touch with that philosopher’s stone in the center of your self. I’m pulling out some pieces, making mistakes, and asking for compassion too. I am the one responsible for being most compassionate to those who trigger a twinge of pain within. The rose is the one I call on to encourage more determination on this path to respect – in all my realtions, and in all the forms of existence.

I worked with these roses and their messages all day, into the night, and all winter. Each bottle I made has a fulgarite lightning stone inside of it. Olivia has always been careful of me to feel touched by her love, and she has bee ncareful to touch others with her love.  Come to find out we are all incredibly responsive to it, like the sun! It is an incredible feeling. I do not only want her to feel that in return but also I want that for everyone. It is so important! I am going to feel more, see more, receive more, and give more. My dear friend sets the bar high and it is beautiful.  And there are so many of you that I know setting the bar high and I’m so grateful for you and the work you do as peace keepers.  I feel well on the way to being a peaceful warrior, knowing with this comes hardship and fun too. I vow to make peace, by being peace.

These bottles of Lightening Rose are holy water, to be used with prayers, for instantaneous compassion, and passionate purpose. I love the work we do together. I love the work we all do together. Mist and pray for peace. Meditate, pass it on. We can do it. Starting small, within and rippling out. I invite all to seek what is your keeping the peace medicine. Spread the word, spread your love.

p.s. – meditation makes us better lovers


the oFTEN uNSEEN & Anemone berlandieri

After not writing for almost half a year, I’m provoked to muse into the  adrift storages of defeat, disappointment, lethargy, loneliness, and many other feelings we relish in when identifying ourselves as we mode into some dis-preferred moments of uncertainty. I have had to ask my self what keeps me going plenty and almost daily. A lot of my existence is devotional & in purposeful pursuit of understanding, and now bringing forth childlike play to the less innocent adult universe. Since a child, I have been webbed into paradox, and amazed by the double vision of light and dark – in many situations. I have wondered about life and the seemingly guaranteed disappointments. Happiness really takes courage. “Happiness is finding joy in sudden disappointment.” Some shaman said that. That moment on after hearing that, I realized how much in myself I had blocked from so many accessing my rich and fertile happiness.

I walk outside to concentrate, or to be aware, to have peace of mind and massage the ongoing connection to the world somehow inside. The sun is a tuning fork on my senses, and across my pupils shadows soothe and light blends a freckled feeling of radiance. I feel like a cat, slightly spastic with sensation yet calm. I twist my ankle all of a sudden (metaphor for shocking disappointment) and I’m impacted with a stinging flood and panic inflames. Ideally, I stay breathing and not fleeting as I witness the body stricken and I coo my resisting surrender. I stay still, remembering my lessons from Anemone berlandieri (relative of windflower). She pats me on my head, she pats and pets my head until I loosen the grip of expectation, who I am stamps meaningful symbols all through out my comprehending self. I’m asked to completely let go (often), but how often I realize I’m squeezing some fist (even in the famous yogic corpse pose, in beauty sleep, monitoring patterns of stress enveloping a tensioned hope in dreams). I’m well aware of the grip. We all know about pain, and the subdued feelings we might be avoiding. We pack it down into our bodies, like clay, then something cracks us open and the fixed attitude resurfaces.  When it rains it pours. It is not necessarily a bad thing. Behold the silver lining.

In the moment of unremovable pain, what is the pain?

Humans have resistance to change. I am human so I speak for humans. Change is as valuable as breath. Breath bathes the soul and creates safe place for processing fear. The soul is to flow like a river, probably never on the same route, ever adapting and softening the ground beneath the course. We have a chance to repattern our reaction yet again. We twinge and glow in a silver lining. Someone looks at you and they see your potential, or rather they just see you. You look in the mirror and you just see that humbled you, and you glow.

He dumped me means I may have to change the way I auto-pilot, most definitely we freak out about the change in comfort, starting over, difficult rebirth. I twist my ankle and now I’m grateful to remember how to walk, to communicate the feet.  As now awareness of how I walk has increased, I am rehabilitating through mindful slowness, and my ego is dissolving -my identity inherently will change.

I have been told much of my life that I am a shape shifter, that I am weird, that I am bold, and many other possibilities. I am an investigator of the unseen, the design of consciousness, delving into the roots of the origin, attempting to untie the unconscious knot being presented in every situation, every disappointment, and yes this can layover existential dilemmas, hence the need for this post in a nut shell.

I want to remind everyone to challenge your resistance and reflect on choice. Underneath our broken hearts is a reservoir of resilient lions playing a wild song of strength and innocence. I could go on writing about the silver lining in every imaginable hue of the Ouroborus – but really, I just wanted to inspire maybe just a few humans, to listen, to be gentle, to lay off the pedal and open the palm in the awry, for the moment is pure.

If you want to learn more about Anemone berlandieri please ask. I am studying the plant world and relationships betwixt. I’d be happy to converse with you more.

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