Wednesday, December 23, 2009
A Holiday Letter from Reverend Misa
This is a holiday story I seldom tell, but this year seems like the right year for sharing. I was living in Sedona, and staying with friends. It was just a few weeks before Christmas. I’d had a rather average day and went to bed at my usual time—nothing special.
In the middle of the night I was filled with the most intense, profound and unconditional love I have ever experienced. It was Jesus and every cell in my body was shaking in the presence of such immense love.
He was not loving me because I had done something special or right, or owned a certain set of beliefs. I had simply been wondering, over the past few days, what it must have been like for Mary Magdalene to have loved him. There he was, loving me in the most extraordinary way.
In the midst of my trembling, I heard a voice, not his, telling me I would write a song for him for Christmas. When I had held as much love as I possibly could, I told Jesus that was as much as I was ready to hold and his presence left.
I laid there in bed, dripping in sweat, completely exhausted. My first thought was, “I don’t especially like Christmas songs, why would you want me to write one?” The second was the realization that his love had no limits and no conditions.
He didn’t love me because I was Christian or was not Christian, or because I espoused that he was my savior. I believe he came because I wondered what it would be like to love him, and he was giving me an opportunity to find out. What I discovered is that his love was as unconditional as I have ever experienced.
Over the next few days, I reflected on this event, realizing that what I didn’t like about so much of the Christmas music I had heard is that so many of the songs glorified Jesus as a king and savior, seeming to miss this recognition of the tremendous love he carried within his heart and taught us to discover within ourselves. That’s when I understood why I had been asked to write a song.
I believed Jesus when he called all of us, including himself, children of God and did not raise himself above any other. I believed him when he said we would do greater works than he had done in his lifetime. I believed that what made him so special was his capacity to love without condition. That was his gift to us.
We are all so special. I see that every time I do a life path reading for someone. We are each so very magnificent. When I attach to my ego and start thinking I am more special than those I serve, I remember the readings I have given. I remember that in today’s vernacular, Jesus and Mary were people of color. I remind myself we are all special and worthy of the profound love I experienced when Jesus came to me.
Then I ask myself, “Misa, how much more love are you capable of holding? Have you fully accepted Jesus’ invitation to love?” Then I stretch my heart beyond its limits.
Recently, a friend called to suggest I was limiting how much love I was holding, and that my heart had the capacity to hold much more than I was allowing. He was right. He was so right. That very day, I sat to meditate and opened up to the love that was right there, waiting to be acknowledged.
Since that incredible visitation, masters from other traditions, both masculine and feminine, have visited me and guided me into my greater capacity to love. Because of them, I know that the blessings of the Divine flow through all spiritual traditions and all of creation. After experiencing such expansive, inclusive, Divine love, who am I to ever limit the capacity of God’s love?
As we arrive at the holidays of Christmas and Kwanzaa, I celebrate the great joy of living in my fullest capacity. As I consider the seven principles of Kwanzaa, I am proud to be human. Who among us would not grow significantly by reflecting on the concepts of: unity, self-determination, collective work and responsibility, cooperative economics, purpose, creativity and faith?
If we were all to stop to reflect on these principles, I can only imagine that we would create a more loving world. That is my dream for the holidays and one that I know many of us share.
This holiday season, I invite you to find a few quiet minutes in which to light a candle or a fire. Surrounded in the comforting blanket of darkness and the warm glow of the fire, join me in reflecting upon your own capacity for love. Open your heart further than it has ever opened before, linger in that love, and then invite yourself to live in that expanded loving space each and every day.
In my heart and songs,
By the way, I did write the song. It is called “Song of Morning Star” and can be found on my Awaken the Dream CD at Spirit Treasures
Friday, December 18, 2009
Honoring the dark might seem a little strange if you equate the dark with bad and evil. Yet during this winter solstice, when we experience the longest days of darkness, it seems appropriate to recognize the significance of the dark in the same way we honored the light last week.
Personally, I’ve been struggling for years with the notion that darkness has been relegated to represent what is not good. We talk about spiritual triumphs as coming out of the dark and into the light. We talk about our painful emotional periods as dark times with a sense of relief that we have emerged into the light.
As an energy healer, when I am able to see into the spiritual field of the body, I often see energies that represent illness or wounds as dark energies. In fact, when I see spirits, the mischievous ones are often dark. It has been easy for me to surmise, like so many of us have, that dark represents what is not good—not of the light.
But what about the Black Madonna, I would wonder? What about this beautiful black sky I gaze into at night? What about a cool, dark basement on a hot summer day? What about the intrigue of an underground cave?
My views about light and dark turned around a few times, when I began meditating within the primordial womb of all life. I had been taken into this reality in a very powerful spiritual experience many years ago when I was traveling through Egypt. Here at home I was being called into this reality once again.
The primordial womb of life is dark, endless, and pregnant with all the possibilities of life. All possibilities—none of them distinguished as good or bad—simply potentials. This womb is what I know as the Sacred Feminine. In this womb, the Mother holds all of the potentials of her children—of creation—and loves them all.
As a child or act of creation comes into life, the sound or longing of that creation emerges and becomes a ray of light streaming through the darkness, and eventually into the form of its longing.
Along the way, it may find itself bumping into other forms, creating friction and discomfort. We know the friction as feelings of helplessness, frustration, anger, hurt, jealousy, sorrow and pain. Intentions collide, and sometimes producing difficult results.
When I take these feelings into the darkness of the primordial womb, where all potentials are loved equally, the painful feelings gently ebb and flow away. In their place emerge longings of original intent. For me, those intentions are ecstatically beautiful, and in their presence the creation of my life is reborn.
I wonder this: if every injustice ever committed, and every accompanying feeling were to be held consciously within our loving wombs, would there be anything left that we would call evil?
Is the darkness I see in energy healing, evil or bad at all? Or is it life longing to be loved and it is showing its true color—the color of the primordial womb? Is it trying to find its way home?
When I call to the darkness within myself or another in compassion, for the truth of the darkness as it knows itself, the darkness, like my painful feelings, unravels itself and is born anew.
During this winter season, I honor the dark. I honor the womb of the Sacred Feminine. I honor it knowing that in the dark, there is hope.
A prayer honoring the dark: Return to the Womb of the Sacred Mother
Thursday, December 10, 2009
In respect for New Dream Foundation philosophy, I write my Soul Purpose articles with the intent of exploring concepts that are common within many religious practices and spiritual beliefs. I look for universal concepts to write about.
This article will be coming out just as Hanukkah begins, also known as the “Feast of Dedication,” and “Festival of Light.” It seems to me the underlying themes of this holiday are truly universal to us all.
Have you experienced a time in your life when your absolute dedication to a higher path was required in order to transcend the oppression of fear? Have you experienced perhaps a dark night of the soul, when all seemed lost, but you found the spark of a sacred fire burning within you and fed it with whatever hope and love you could gather together at the time?
I love the historical story of the menorah I have heard told during Hanukkah. Imagine having faced oppression with great conviction, even risking your life to reclaim your temple in honor of your faith. Then as you go to light the menorah (symbolizing the Light of God) you discover you only have enough sacred oil for one day of burning, rather than eight, but you light the menorah anyway. To your surprise the meager amount of oil lasts eight days.
After facing the fears that oppress you, have you ever gone to feed your inner sacred fire, thinking, I don’t have enough to give, only to discover that what you had to give was somehow enough?
During this season, the darkest season of our year, and the traditional time for the holidays of Hanukkah, Solstice, Christmas, and Kwanzaa, many of us will be celebrating with symbols of light.
We will light candles, menorahs, bonfires, and kinaras across the globe, and some of us will put lights around our homes and businesses. In that light, we will celebrate dedication, family, love, unity, birth, miracles, hope and new life.
Isn’t it interesting how precious the light becomes to us when we are experiencing the very depths of darkness. Even the tiniest light may be a reflection of our greatest intentions—our own light the reflection of our manifestation—bursting forth from the darkness of our own becoming.
Any flame must be fed. So as we enter this season when so many spiritual traditions honor or use the flame to remind and inspire, perhaps we can ask ourselves: “With what will I feed my flame? Will I feed it with my fears, anger and pain? Or will I feed it with love, truth and trust?”
Will you be willing to find new ways to honor the light within yourself and within others? How will you choose to honor that light starting right now?
As you do, know that there is at least one person in the world, deeply grateful that you have brought forward your light to share with us all.
Flashes of Longing-The Pulsing Light Within
Friday, December 04, 2009
Have you ever had that feeling that what you have been looking for is staring right at you, but you just don’t recognize it? I think a lot of us, if not most of us, have had this experience.
Whenever I’m in a quandary, feeling as though I’ve prayed for something, but haven’t received any response I remember a piece of wisdom I received from a martial arts master. He said, “Everything you need is with fifteen feet of you.”
In today’s world, fifteen feet stretches pretty far. Here I am sitting in front of my computer with my cell phone next to me. They reach a lot farther into the world than the walls of my office. That’s exciting to me.
However, what is even more exciting is that the world also reaches INTO my office. That means if I ask the universe a question for delivery of something or someone I need, I may very well discover my answer right there in my e-mail inbox.
In my earlier days of spiritual awakening, I marveled at how I could walk into a book store with a question on my mind, and within minutes, watch the right book practically (and sometimes literally) jump off the shelf and into my hands.
I would be pondering a choice I needed to make, longing for some guidance, only to receive a call from a friend providing the very insight I needed to make a clear decision. My friend could be living halfway across the continent from me, and yet provide my answer, right there on the telephone.
Synchronicities then and now provide me with significant clues to answers. So does my intuition. When I was living in Portland, we had dozens of speakers and spiritual teachers visiting our area. There were so many that I simply had to check in with my intuitive wisdom regarding whose lecture to attend. Otherwise, I would have been attending lectures full-time.
On the other hand, when I started teaching Sound Medicine, I could hardly get any attention locally, but if I drove 30 miles out of town, suddenly my expertise was wanted. I discovered that people outside my hometown were listening to their intuition about whether to attend my talk, and sometimes their instincts were leading them to me.
What I learned from this experience is that the answers, people and wisdom we seek are often already in our lives or very close by. In other words, what knowledge I had learned and was here to share might have been equally as valid for my neighbor or family member as it was for the lovely people out of town that had engaged me for an evening.
This became so apparent to me that I began listening with much greater attention to the people closest to me. I tune-into my boyfriend with greater appreciation for his perspectives.
I listened to off-handed remarks with greater care. I have learned to pay attention to the books people recommend to me, even if I don’t have time to read them in full. I discovered the importance of the e-mail messages that found their way to me. I discovered the insights that come when I spent more time listening for the truth that was there, but wasn’t being said out-loud, by the people that loved me.
I stopped seeking outside experts, though I appreciated the wisdom when it was available to me. I started listening more to my own inner wisdom and input from the people that were closest to me. I started looking for my answers closer to home.
In essence, I trusted that the universe had already provided the answer. My job was to stop long enough to notice that it was already here, within fifteen feet of me.
For short, yet powerful weekly inspirational meditations visit: New Dream Foundation