It is only now as I sit down to write that I realize that it has been two months since I last put the proverbial pen to paper. I have simply not had words. I have been sitting in silence. In stillness, in that space which has no form and shape. Waiting. For the next movement to shape itself. Giving it the space and time that it asked for.
In this fast paced world that we live in- and there is much beauty in that as well- there is not that much space to slow down, to do nothing, to be still. To wait. And yet sometimes that is the only thing that is required. When there is nothing wrong. Nothing to be fixed, nothing to be healed or solved, transcended or transmuted. One just needs to wait until the next shape reveals itself. And that is what I have been doing. Sitting in silence. Waiting. Lying in my bed, curled up, simply breathing, simply being.
I'm coming to the end of the waiting now, seeing glimpses of a form, as if a veil still covers it's mystery. Yet there are moments, just tiny moments, when that veil lifts and I'm taken aback by the sheer beauty revealed before the cosmic winds settle again, and the veil slips back into place, asking that my outstretched hand lower again. And wait.
I can see now that there have been three distinct phases within this space. Three different textures and tastes. Different qualities of Being. In the first stillness, all that I have been, my identities, my relationships, the forms and structures that defined 'me' dissolved. It has been painful. Sometimes heartbreakingly so. I then entered liminal space, the old no longer present, the new not part of any dreaming. And then I heard the echo of a song, a rhythm under my feet, so very far away yet its notes reaching out and calling my name. The new is arriving and there are moments that my heart is so full of joy and excitement and I have a dozen different ideas about the next what's/where's/when's of my life before it all disappears and dissipates... not yet it whispers, not quite yet. And so I wait, but the quality of the waiting has shifted to a yearning, a knowing that just after a next exhale, I just might feel my new shape. My new life. It waits for me.
My question for you beautiful: Is there somewhere where you have made yourself wrong when all that is required is for you to be still, to wait, to allow. If so, I invite you to let go... you are perfectly divine just as you are...
It’s 3 am. I am sitting behind my desk, with the candles on, feeling the stillness that is rippling out in this moment. Feeling the space between the molecules in the air all around me. If I close my eyes, I can imagine myself dissolving in that space in between…dissipating into the nothing and everything that that is… formless, pure creation.
I am in a space where words don’t come easy, rather they meander across the pages of my mind, floating into the nooks and crannies of every thought, exploring, resting for a moment before drifting on.
I know it’s because right now I feel ‘identity-less’. Without form. Without a shape or structure that was hitherto known to me as ‘me’.
I also know that I had a knowing that I went through a ‘vibrational upgrade’ (what a strange word that is indeed) this past summer. And that the solar eclipse that followed tilted my world. Into more capacities, more possibilities. Just more. Most of that ‘more’ doesn’t even have a name or a face yet.
The ripples of that shift have been profound. Life as I know it is dissolving in very tangible ways. I don’t know the next ‘where, when, how’ of my life. I have ‘tuned in’ many times over. And I get… nothing. For someone whose business, life, world is based on ‘tuning in’, this nothing is extraordinary… The shape and form of this next unfolding in my life has not yet shown itself- even in consciousness. There is nothing but stillness. Not the kind of stillness that is fecund and full of life. But the kind that requires that you sit. With ‘no mind’. Resting. Being in that space in between. Requiring nothing. Needing nothing. Floating without form until the form reveals itself.
In this space, I came across some words that allowed me to know that even this space is a shared one:
“Sssshh…she is traveling between worlds right now. You can see her holding the tension of not knowing- she is simply breathing into her unanswered questions. Sometimes she drinks coffee with quaking hands, not knowing where her relationships or her bank account is going. But this time, she is not holding onto the tension of not knowing, and is not willing to hit the panic button. She is unlearning thousands of years of conditioning. She is not being split between the opposing forces of fight and flight. She is neither naïve or ignorant. She is a frontier woman, paving new roads and making new choices. She is willing to make a new transcendent possibility emerge. You may see her now- standing at the thresholds, or at crossroads- breathing into her body- intently listening for inner signals. She’s learning new navigation skills as she arrives at a most magical moment of her life.”
- Sukhinder Sircar
Wherever you are on your journey, I hope that you know that you are held, that you are loved. That Life has your back. It just has a funny way of inviting us into our ‘next’ sometimes, smiles.
With tender love,
It was Monday morning the 2nd of October (well, to be fair, afternoon as I don’t do mornings). I woke up and felt … strange. Like there was a ‘not rightness’ in the air. And I was cranky, a level of cranky that is very unlike me. I am currently living in a time zone that is twelve hours ahead of the United States and that day of all days we didn’t have internet or tv. When it returned at around 8 pm at night, I logged in and almost immediately found out about the shooting in Las Vegas. Ahhh… clarity arose… I had been tapping into the ripple that was going out into the world. A ripple that did not speak of love or harmony or ‘rightness’ on any level.
By nighttime, I could barely sit still. The level of discomfort intensifying throughout my body. I got up, put the music on and started to move. I felt like the Goddess Kali, rage rising like lava. Hot. Devouring. Burn it all down! All the illusions, the lies, the untruths, the hypocrisy, the greed. Until only The Truth remains: Thy shall not do harm upon another living sentient Being, which includes this planet we call Earth.
And I felt so small. Disappearing into the powerlessness, the smallness of this human self that does not know what to do to make this pain stop. Please. God. What can we do to make this stop. Please…God? … Supplication.
And frustration. And numbness. And the inability to hold it All. And on and on it goes. I dance for a long time that night, until I feel purified by the sweat that drenches me. Until all those raging emotions have been offered to the dance as a prayer of redemption, leaving stillness in its wake. And peace.
As the week goes by I notice the ripple effects of that day. My family is feeling it, and my wider circle of friends, clients and acquaintances. I hear so many stories of uncomfortable incidences and experiences showing up for people in a way that they haven’t for years. I feel a blanket of heaviness trying to pull me into a spin cycle that would not create grace in my life. It’s as if the planet is tilting on its axes, wobbling for a moment as it finds its right trajectory again. And of course from the Las Vegas shooting we go straight into the thousands of acres of land currently being consumed by fire in California. It’s a lot to take in.
This is what I know beyond a shadow of a doubt: If I do not consciously rise to the occasion, if I do not lift my vibration, if I do not expand into the highest potential of the all that is occurring on planet earth right now, it will make me smaller. It will feel as if this world is spinning out of control, as if it’s not safe to be here. I will find myself in a perpetual state of emotional vulnerability and even crisis and I will be unable to contribute the fullness of what I have to offer the world. So, taking a deep breath, I rise. Again and again, and again, I expand and step into grace and celebrate what is right in the world. I hope to meet you in that space.
We all have our stories. Of what happened, why it happened, how hard it’s been, how long it’s taken, what it means (that’s a BIG one) and of course what has been ‘lost’. They are the stories that at least to some extent make up who we are. They are our defining stories, shaping and contouring our personality, our lives in so many ways. They can be empowering or disempowering and often a mixture of both.
I had one of those stories. A story about my ‘dark night of the soul’. What initiated it, how hard it was, how much I lost, how much it hurt, what it meant and on and on. Over the years of course the story changed to some extent and the gifts that were many and generous, were claimed. But it wasn’t until last summer when I flew back to Amsterdam- the place where my own descent into the underworld commenced- that the final chains of my story, those tendrils that had wrapped themselves around me, making my breath catch just a tiny bit, let go. It wasn’t until I could breathe fully, and deeply and expansively, until I could stretch out my arms to their fullest capacity, that I felt fully free. Free of the story, free from the weight of it, the shape of it, free from the contours that moulded what was possible for me and my life. The old story had lost its meaning, its significance. It no longer limited me. It wasn’t ‘me’. I could create something entirely different; I could re-create myself according to my wildest most delicious desires, my imaginings of self no longer curtailed by old stories of pain.
Reweaving the story; Amsterdam 2017
Arriving in Amsterdam, I felt this curious sense of explosive joy. Like a power inside of me was unleashing. I didn’t understand it. It’s not like I hadn’t been back here since I moved to the US years ago. On that first morning after an all night flight, sitting in a cafe having breakfast, something was clearly different. I wanted to take pictures of everything (I’ve lived in Amsterdam for over 15 years so that in itself was a bit odd) and even though I hadn’t slept all night, I wanted to run out and embrace the city, walk the streets, see the sites, yell ‘I’m home!’ What?! Taking into account that when I left, all I felt was relief, a sense of expansion, an opportunity to get away from the claustrophobia that I felt, the contraction, the smallness of it all (inner city Amsterdam only has about 750.000 inhabitants), this desire to reclaim this city as ‘home’ was curious to say the least. In the days and nights that followed, I walked the streets, explored the various facets of Amsterdam, the places that I loved to go, where I used to buy my books (top floor of the American bookshop), the coffee shop that has the best apple pie in Amsterdam (on the corner of the Noordermarkt), my favourite retro shops, my favourite spots – and tree- in Amsterdam’s central park (the Vondelpark) and on and on. As I was doing this, exploring, feeling, celebrating the city, I slowly realised that I was reclaiming myself. Those parts that unbeknownst to me were still lost to darkness, that were still clinging to the memory of how much the cryssalis had hurt, were being invited into a different experience. One that said, "it’s ok, you can let go now, see how much beauty this city has offered you, how much you were held, how much you were supported. It’s ok to come out now, into the light, into LIFE. It’s ok to allow yourself to be seen, to celebrate your becoming, the end of this journey in this shape.”
By the end of my trip in Amsterdam, I felt full to the brim of love for this city. I could feel how deeply it had held me, supported me at the darkest time of my life, and that everything it had gifted me would forever be a part of me. I had reclaimed myself.
To be continued... smiles.
Beautiful, if you are reading this my invitation to you is as follows: what spaces and places within your own self are waiting to be reclaimed? What stories are no longer serving you and are waiting to be retold? What chains have wrapped themselves around you, shaping the way you perceive yourself and what is possible for your life? What powers and capacities, gifts and magic are waiting for you to make them come alive? What facets of life are yearning for your touch? Where is life patiently waiting for you to come dance with it? How can you allow yourself to fully unleash…?
With love and deep appreciation,
Skydiving has been calling for years. The desire to free fall into space to affirm life.
As the plane flew up to kiss the clouds and beyond, I sat next to the open door, looking out onto the cotton candy shapes and the never ending expanse of breathtaking blue. I could feel how alive and sentient everything was. This was not 'dead' space but pure delighted consciousness desiring to commune
And when I was free-falling through space, rocketing to the ground in the embrace of gravity? My arms were held by gossamer strings of love, each spun by an angel that exulted in my celebration of this human life. I was, I am safe in the arms of my eternal self. Loved. Held. Supported.
After a night of deep rest, I woke the next day in a space of stillness. Peace. I felt utterly surrendered within my own self. I realized that the act of jumping into space had transformed places inside of me where I had as yet to surrender. Places that had been holding tight to story and identity, to a lack of fluidity in understanding this human-cosmic dance. Places that were in a holding pattern of one kind or another, not endlessly morphing into their next becoming, surrendering into their next versions of themselves.
As I lay there, reveling in the feel of this still sacred spaciousness within, there was a new tactile awareness in the molecules around me allowing for an exquisite experience of the soft embrace of the mattress against the velvet of my skin.
And, I could feel the deep and utter fatigue that was arising. As I let go, the holding patterns that had sunk into my very bones dissolved, rising to the surface to be gently washed away. It was a new day. I was, I am, more of myself.
I continue to find my feet in this new space. The ripples of that day are still unfolding and integrating, and I can simultaneously feel new possibilities arising in my future as a result of my choice to jump into the sky.
I altered the fabric of my reality and the wave is never-ending.
I recently completed my first group offering of the year and as I walked around dazed and in a bliss bubble whilst the energy swirled and twirled around and within me, I felt a desire to allow my words to flow.
I'm often asked what it is that I do. What I usually say is: I see a person, the Infinite Majestic Being and the vulnerable human being and create an alignment and connection between the Being and the human being so that that person can know her/himself as more than just a human being with problems, with a few interspersed moments of joy and grace thrown in to make things bearable. The connection and alignment between Being and human being allows for a space to open within a person where they can access the God spark within and it is from this space that all else flows and all is possible.
Beauty. Power. Grace.
What is key in my body of work is the being-body connection. I work with highest frequencies of the being and beyond (most definitely beyond! smiles) and simultaneously also with the deepest frequencies of the body. My recent exploration of the energy in bone has added so many dimensions to that and I'm so in awe of what is transpiring.
Back to the recent group offering. Group work is the most potent form of co-creation that I know and the utter joy that I felt as we journeyed together is hard to describe. In order to better answer the question: 'What is it that you do?', I share with you a tiny snapshot of what transpired:
"As the session started we stood not in a circle but in a particular geometric configuration. As the energy started to move, we each 'shot out' into different directions (much like Superman/Wonder Woman, smiles) to source what is ours to source, to bring yet another flow of information through that hasn't been accessible to this planet yet. Some went far out into the cosmos, others descended deep into the earth to bring forth the gifts held deep in the body matrix/earth mother. Some did both simultaneously, collapsing the source points of inner and outer so that a new understanding could be born for those that were/are ready.
As we expanded beyond our known parameters, to the very edges of what was possible for each one of us in the moment, into the gorgeousness of the infinite self, there was a profound invitation to let go of story, attachment, identity. That which does not serve you, that which you perceive yourself to be which is limiting, constraining, can be let go of as easily as a pair of jeans that no longer fit. Who do you desire to be? What do you desire to create? How do you perceive the world in its glory?
There was an alignment that was invited into with our essential selves, that part of us that morphs endlessly in its different becomings, yet is timeless and eternal in its knowing. What a paradox, yes? We work in that space of nothing and everything, creating effortlessly. Various blueprints being woven like magic out of thin air, integrating into our bodies and our lives. What does being human mean to you? What do you want it to mean?
Descending down a glittering spiraling ladder of DNA, hearing our unique songs and creating with that through our bodies that feel like the whole universe in its becoming. Bliss beckons. Delicious orgasmic humming that reverberates inwards and outwards, a trillion cells in motion, awakening, creating a different possibility. How much can you morph? How much can you unravel, allow, become? Pure ecstasy in motion. I don't know whether to laugh or to cry as endless waves of ecstasy drench me, filling me up in a way that I have been yearning for. This. Is. Life."
On that note I leave you. Content, utterly in love with life.
Thank-you for being witness and allowing these words into your world.
With love and deep appreciation,
Half of one of my teeth fell out recently (related to a motorbike accident a long time ago). An extraction of the other half was recommended due to complications. It seemed like an easy decision to make. After all, it was at the back of my mouth, it wouldn’t affect the ‘functioning’ of my mouth or the visual aesthetics of my smile.
Several days later, I gently explored the new space that had opened up in my mouth and was so surprised to feel the grief that welled up. Not the kind of grief that overwhelms you for a moment, the storm in the teacup that is fleeting in its experience and expression, but the kind of soul grief that aches all the way down, that is so exquisite in its depth and vastness that your whole Being is enveloped by it. The tone of it vibrating down to your roots.
On my own journey of awakening, through the ‘dark night of the soul’ that which I clung to in the darkest moments was continually the thought: ‘This too shall pass. I will regain what is lost, my health, my body, my relationships. This is not permanent. This too shall pass’. Touching that empty space in my mouth opened a gateway into a space where I came face to face with ‘This shall not pass. This is permanent. This is forever’. I touched upon my mortality. Upon the fleeting nature of this human experience. Viscerally feeling death. And it brought me to my knees.
The paradox: the pain was exquisite. Feeling the beauty of life, and touching upon the reality of death, was an experience that allowed me to open to myself in spaces that had remained untouched. It required courage to be in that space. To not run from it by relating and aligning only to the cosmic experience of infinity and eternity. Underneath the surface, touching my mortality and surrendering to it allowed for a wave of ecstasy. The art of being human.
With love, Tanya
I love Jason Silva, his words on mortality resonate.
There is a softness in the air. As I watch the flowers blossom, tender buds opening to the sky, hear the sweetness of birdsong outside of my window, the gentleness that is spring carressing my skin, I feel the resonance within. It is time.
I have walked that inner labyrinth of the soul into the very depths of the void, the darkness within. I have danced with the shadows, my feet finding their way between skulls and bones and broken landscapes of despair. I have endlessly heard the beat of the drum and sat with the elders around the fire, until that rhythm coalesced with mine and I remembered. The knowing arising from my body and being, my spirit and soul in hallowed communion.
And now, as I sit quietly within that space of power, comfortable in the alchemy of intensity, a different invitation awaits. I know it’s time. My bones have been engraved with the gifts that I am to share. The sunlight awaits.
As I step out, I hesistate. The song is sweet. And unknown. My eyes need time to adjust to the light. I exhale, my body begins to move of its own volition, my arms opening wide to give space to my heart.
I return. To the light.
February was one of those months where the invitation to surrender to Life could not be denied. To the rhythm of it, the tone, the harmony, the lyrics. Every aspect orchestrated by a Magical Mystery so much larger than the ‘self’ that I experience myself to be.
There were workshops every week-end that transformed me from the inside out, dance performances that left their imprint for days on my body memory, weaving a magic all of its own as my body calibrated to yet another expansive possibility, concerts and wordly delights of every kind. Feburary was Full.
And the Becoming that was invited into occurred in the moments between. In the pause where I rested. Where I let go, cuddling into the sofa, exclaiming with a big smile ‘that was so nice’. Unable to move much, sleeping for hours upon hours as the experience was received into the very depths of me, to alchemise first the essence of my Being, and then the pathways to cognition. My dance with life altering as I morphed, again and again and again. Lying still, on that sofa. Explaining to those who care for me and who expressed concern at my fatigue: ‘It’s as if I’m becoming a different creature. All my energy is focused inwards so that I can shapeshift into something else’. And in that shapeshifting lay the hidden treasures so longed for.
‘Resonance’ is something that has long defined my experience of life. What I could partake of, what I could receive. What I could jell with, dance with, party and celebrate Life with. If it didn’t resonate with the essence of Who I Am, it hurt to allow it within my world, thereby curtailing in many ways the expression of life that could be reveled in. As I surrendered into that space between, that pause between worlds, I received the alchemical elixer that allowed me to learn how to turn copper into unicorns. My world opened up.
In the years of my ever present becoming, the greatest magic has occurred in the pause. In that space where I allow myself to do ‘nothing’. To Be. Still. Allow. Breathe. Surrender. Dissolve. To be ever remade into Magic.
There have been so many e-mails in my in-box at the beginning of this year. Some proclaiming the virtues of new year's resolutions. Others admonishing me not to venture into the realm of goal setting.
On new year's eve, I sat by the fireside, pen and paper in hand, and allowed myself to be still, soft, surrendered to the moment. Inviting the Mystery in. 2017, how do I dance with you? The Knowing arose, soft but clear. Insistent. 'Allow yourself space. Aside from your desires, your projects, your ideas and creations, there is a deeper force at work in your life. A path that you choose last summer that asked of you, even demanded of you, that you let go of so much that you knew as 'you' is still unfolding. It lies at the root of the fabric of your reality, your understanding and experience of Self. Its flowering will allow a richness and fullness in your life that you have as yet never tasted. Never Been. Give yourself space. To allow. To be. Don't push. Be still.'
I breathe into that. Allow myself to be gentle with that. To be gentle with me.
Beginnings are tender times. At least they are for me. When the shape of a thing has yet to show itself. And simultaneously, when I expand my awareness, 2017 as a sentient alive force has unequivocally declared itself. Its magic weaving so brilliantly into a reality creation that is … easy, effortless, gracious. Beyond the struggle and strife, the turmoil and chaos of world politics, of pain and suffering so eloquently visible on the world stage, there is a song that invites into a different possibility. An orchestra of infinity, showing us the exquisiteness of communion. Life caresses each cell with love, whispering: 'You Are my love. You simply Are. Love. God. Life.'