At times, the most wise, skillful, and soulful action is to establish a boundary with another. To stand up and assert what it is that we need and deserve. To move in an empowered and swift way to protect our own integrity.
To privilege our own autonomy. To meet narcissism, abuse, misattunement, and neglect with a fierce, embodied response.
This is not only the case with “external” others, but also with the multitude of “internal” others as they emerge as voices, figures, and images of the interior landscape.
As we wake in the morning, wander through the day, in liminal states and at the entryway to sleep and dream… we may notice their presence, arriving quietly in one moment and as firestorm in the next.
“There is something wrong with you. You have failed again. You have done life wrong. You are unworthy of mercy, of grace. You are beyond redemption. You are unlovable and unwanted. You do not belong here.”
The images and the voices of the past, shadow emanations of authorities, cultures, and lineages of intergenerational trauma and trance. The voices of a realm that has forgotten the holy, the sensitive, the eccentric, and raging uniqueness of one human heart.
But in a moment when perception is cleansed and a glimpse is given from behind the veil, it is seen that the visitors come not to harm, but to reveal.
But they, too, must be met with boundaries of clear seeing. To not accept what they say at face value, but to enter relationship, into dialogue and to find the way into what is most true.
To not merely accept their conclusions, proposed tunnels of reality, and the psychic lenses through which they have come to see and organize.
But to step into what you are. To live in and from that as your poetic offering to a weary world.
To take the risk of telling a new story, dreaming a new dream, and weaving new cloth. And to allow yourself to be toned and tuned by the great Weaver herself… breathing and sensing and listening as new vision is unearthed.’