Archive for compassion

Talking Trump

In the midst of taking rugs and comforters to the cleaners, making a crock-pot of turkey soup from the Thanksgiving carcass and creating a flyer for my upcoming Spirit Lift events before running off to pickup my kids from school, I received a download about Donald Trump and who he really is. Yes, I am mostly vegetarian but occasionally join my family in eating meat as part of traditional celebrations. Otherwise my husband would think I’ve lost my mind turkey-soupentirely. As long as a turkey has sacrificed its life to feed my family, I am going to make use of all of it, even the bones from which I make healthy, organic soup to last all winter.

Back to the story. Several years ago I received a message from Spirit, by whatever name or label you give non-physical inspiration, that Hillary Clinton would be a part of exposing the corruption in our country. I was also told that there would be a man with credibility that would be a part of bringing our disease out from under wraps. It had to be someone who had enough credibility whose perspective wouldn’t be seen as conspiracy theory. I wasn’t given a name, simply an impression. That person is Donald Trump.

As with so many other people, I found myself getting caught up in the political hoopla, even when I have a greater understanding of what is behind it, simply because I am human. One of my daily mantras is to ask myself, “How can I see this through the eyes of love?”

The message I received about Mr. T. this morning as I went about my work, comes from the Divine Feminine, more precisely, the Mother aspect of all that is. Below is Her message to me.

“It is time to see that my children are children of an unconditionally loving mother, not as the children of men or a judgmental male God. The misconception that children are of men still plays unconsciously in every role across the planet. This belief that children are the property, prodigy and offspring of men is the underlying cause of war and discord. Men attempting to please their fathers and their Father God holds the ego as a broken little boy. You are all in that essence, little ones still looking and hoping for Daddy’s approval. The one you call child3Trump is simply an outward expression of that little one inside who is acting out and seeking approval, while never really feeling good enough. He is an outward example of attempting to fill himself up from the outside, and never able to feel full, as his fullness depends on the love and adoration of others that money could not buy him as a child, and still cannot. He is an outward expression of what so many feel inside, particularly those men who have been unable meet the expectations of the men before them. This is where women come into their own and see the broken male through the eyes of compassion, rather than blame. He is merely a broken little boy who needs his mother to tell him everything will be alright, and that he is loved, no matter what. No amount of money can ever buy what he needs and no fame or fortune can make him feel whole. His eyes cannot separate this from genuine love. Real love is what he needs and it can only come from within himself. He is his own savior, as all of you are for yourselves. In his feeling of brokenness, it is a desire to be whole that drives him. Send him love that his heart will be made whole and he will be healed of his brokenness. As every being is healed of their suffering, the entire consciousness of your planet is lifted.”

So there you have it. This is how I see our president elect through the eyes of love. This is what Yeshuah (the man many call Jesus) meant when he said to love your enemies and pray for them. Donald Trump is playing an integral part in bringing all of our collective diseases to the surface so that they can be healed, and we can evolve into a new level of consciousness. He has no idea the role that he is playing in our collective evolution, but for those of us who can see it, we see him for who he really is.

Until next time, be fearless, fabulous and free!


Throwing Stones

I almost never remember my dreams but this one stuck with me. I had a dream last night about a young giraffe. It had done something wrong and was standing in the dirt and tied to a tall Palm tree unable to move. A group of men were standing around it and throwing rocks at it to punish it for what it had done. In the dream I stood off to the side watching helplessly. I thought to myself, “That poor giraffe, I wonder how it feels not knowing why people are throwing rocks at it.” Then a voice in my head said, “You know exactly how it feels, remember.”

Then I woke up and realized that I was the giraffe. A memory from my childhood came flooding back. I recall I was around eleven years old. Some people called me a giraffe because of my long, thin neck. 

My father had recently dug a big hole in the hillside of our back yard. It wasn’t much of a yard really. It was a few acres of rocks, dirt, pine trees and ragweeds, along with a small patch of grass. In the memory I was standing in the yard and a group of boys were pushing me into the hole and throwing rocks at me. “Stone her,” they were yelling. Cornered in the hole I stood there crying and trying to protect myself with my hands, then crouched into a ball helplessly screaming with my arms wrapped around my head.

I can’t remember what I had done or said that made the boys feel justified in throwing stones at me. I don’t know that I even knew at the time it was happening. We all knew the Bible said that boys should throw rocks at girls who were bad and I had apparently done something bad in their eyes. I remember how glad I was when it was over that none of the rocks were boulders and aside from my broken self-esteem I sustained no lasting damage.

As I tune in and ask with that bigger meaning is I can see that it is a reminder, that as we heal our own individual stories and learn to see them through they eyes of compassion and understanding, we also heal our collective story.  

This isn’t just my story.  It is the story of masculine domination and is the story of how women were belittled and abused, simply for being women. It is the story of misinterpretation of ancient beliefs and practices for the justification of continued suffering on others who are seen as less-than. It is also the story of how we as women have risen above the misconception that dominion is synonymous with domination. It is a reminder of how we are rising above our pain stories and restoring our place in balance and harmony alongside the masculine, rather than beneath him.

It is a remembrance for all of us that as we heal our collective human story and see all of it though the eyes of compassion and understanding, we can move forward in peace and prosperity for all.