Free at Last
May I fall asleep to the dying world,
and wake up to the new Light
inside my soul
Shining its rays into the musty basement
of so many lives stored, boxes brimming
with the psyche’s old story-strategy accumulation
and limitation cobwebs
I thought were made of steel.
Formerly con’d by the clever inner jester,
smiling and assuring me he was in charge of my happiness.
He would help me heal.
While jangling keys for rusty prisonality cages,
taunting all those players to stay safe, and in their lanes,
to keep doing their good girl tap dances or sexy siren songs.
But now there’s a longing
for real emancipation
beyond anything any of them ever bragged about
or offered as the velvet-roped, sweet-smelling plantation
And in this Light, I see
there is no cage, and I am free.
Switch Channels
Shoulda, coulda gotten xyz DONE today,
I heard a familiar voice say.
While the goddesses of Humility, Wisdom and Grace
glided in to insist that I enjoy the sunset on my deck.
The day is DONE, my dear. Let it be. Enjoy every drop of this place.
Let true essence have a new pace
for how the gifts you are here to offer become visible
to the ones who are meant to be reborn by these tools.
Do not suffer fools shaming or blaming you for not enough.
The carnival barkers claiming to tell you how to sell
and Scare City pimps coercing you to perform for pay
have all had their day.
And that old story needs to be DONE.
You are here to herald the new 3.0 future forward,
where true prosperity isn't taxing to your soul,
and what brings you joy is what you are here to bring.
So trust the rhythm of your heart beating
more than the bean counters in your busy brain repeating
their boring complaints.
And let the saints assigned to you do their job
to guide you, give you the words, and help unfurl your wings.
Pour LOVE into that poor inner critic's whine, then switch channels
to hear your inner champion choir sing.
This is not procrastination.
This is Priestess energy rising,
No more compromising!
While I can hear the consternation
of those old inner debate club voices
wriggling like a fish on a hook,
Is this surrender or sabotage, avoidance or ascension?
There is another frequency beyond any of that tension
Quietly flowing with illogical & infinite
Peace, Wisdom, and Joy.
From this channel, the Goddess of Truth gives me a look
like Glenda tilting her head, smiling kindly,
while gently removing familiar ploys,
Assuring me- You’ve always had the power, my dear
to feel what is pure LOVE
and sniff moldy, scoldy fear.
That something that would not let you push yourself
to get your “but in the chair” or “just do it”
is a fierce Warrior of Refusal
to anything that carries the residue
of abuse to your true spirit --
of trying to be a good girl, to earn value,
to be swayed by the mayor of Scare City
convincing you to vote for his legislation.
We can’t wait for that charlatan to turn in his resignation.
We must immerse you in beautification
of neglected, abandoned areas that had gone fallow,
and shower them with adoration.
To till the dirt of hallowed ground.
Plant new seeds, be willing to wait,
and trust the fertility of co-creation
with the life force that orchestrates galaxies,
and inspires men to make machines that fly.
We diverted you from taking the bait
of the shouldmeister’s saucy strip tease.
We needed to knock you down to uplevel your Why.
Beware of old yarns wrapped in new costumes.
Underneath those glinty, glamy, sequined strategies
is the stench of "bills to pay, people to please."
What appears as weak resistance to the 2.0 clock-punchers
is a 3.0 solidarity strike to demand that you reclaim
Who you really are and why you came.
Yes, again, as we lean into this next swerve
of the upward spiral of humanity’s future-pull to wake
from the spell of slave chains sold as modern success,
and as hard to break as a meth addiction illusion mess.
It’s time for you to let time bend and
wrap around the full moon,
To celebrate this Lion’s Gate portal
and let every morsel of the old doer go-getter dissolve,
into the spaciousness that just knows
there aren’t really any problems to solve.
Or productivity to police.
Ask Mary & Yeshua, Metatron & Merlin to sign your prisonality release.
Embrace the sacred dance of your inner dragons
of masculine and feminine, pragmatic matter and profound Mystery.
Marvel as they entwine in motion like the double helix of your soul’s DNA.
Trust that you a servant of this temple,
and the meant to be reborn leaders who need this medicine will find their way.
This isn't decorating. It's Devotion.
Unplug until you feel the ocean tides rise and fall in your chest
And believe the remedy isn’t more accountability or
marketing consultants or consequences for missed deadlines,
but in giving it all a rest,
and appreciate the paradox
of what it really means to stay true to your quest.