This past solstice marks the second anniversary of my Soulflower Plant Spirit Oracle Decks making their way out into the world. It also marked the end of one phase of my life and the start of a new one. One where I have quit my “day job” and I am moving “full-time” into my Soulflower work.
I am commiting finally to live my life in alignment with what my heart and intuition is telling me...as opposed to allowing my ego (the part that wants to be in control!) and fears of not-enoughness, keep me in darkness, hiding. So now, I am showing up.
Of course, the Soulflower pick for this moon cycle is Evening Primrose. She speaks to me of rebirthing, or the process of birthing your true self and how in order to birth our true selves we have to be willing to be vulnerable.
“Vulnerability is the birthplace of love, belonging, joy, courage, empathy, and creativity. It is the source of hope, empathy, accountability, and authenticity. If we want greater clarity in our purpose or deeper and more meaningful spiritual lives, vulnerability is the path.”—Brené Brown
Vulnerability supports self-reflection. Self-reflection allows you to recognize and then choose to let go of stories, beliefs, conditioning, and so on that no longer define you. Shedding layers of what you are not as a sort of spiritual rebirthing. We go through this over and over and over in our lives...hopefully… coming to deeper and deeper understandings of who we truly are and our place in this glorious universe.
Vulnerability exposes our weaknesses, our fears, our imperfections and our perceived inadequacies. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve felt inspired and have wanted to share my thoughts, or my beautiful gardens, but then as soon as I’m about to hit the button to “go live” I am paralyzed by fear. The need to be polished, “perfect” and in-control completely extinguishing the joy and beauty of the moment. Perfectionism and vulnerability are definitely not compatible.
One very intuitive friend told me, by hiding my truth, my light, I am actually dishonoring the Earth that I love so much. Dishonoring the Divine Feminine! I let the truth of that sink in. “And what makes you so special,” she said, “that you think you don’t deserve to be seen for who you truly are?”
I am a part of Nature. I am Nature! Hiding and not honoring myself and the call of my heart, is self-destructive and makes me complicit in the abuse and destruction of Earth too. We are not separate. I see the dark and light within myself and it makes me feel vulnerable.
I’m not sure I much like feeling vulnerable. I don’t like to worrying about what other people think of me. I like to blend in, hide even, and not make waves. I’ve done that for years. So many of us do. But it’s what I think of myself that truly matters. And if I truly want to honor the Earth then I absolutely must honor myself.
These personal journeys we are on are not really about us as individuals and yet as individuals we have so much power to affect the whole—each and every one of us. We have to show up, do the work and trust, that while we can’t see what’s happening on the other side of the pond, the ripples we create will surely touch others in ways that serve us all.
“Times are difficult globally; awakening is no longer a luxury or an idea. It’s becoming critical. We don’t need to add more depression, more discouragement, or more anger to what’s already here. It’s becoming essential that we learn how to relate sanely with difficult times. The earth seems to be beseeching us to connect with joy and discover our innermost essence. This is the best way that we can benefit others.”—Pema Chödrön
And so I’m finding the courage to show up. Trusting that if I follow my heart, share my inner and outer work and honor the process (and shine my light!), I will be contributing somehow to the greater good.
The birthing process is painful, messy, uncomfortable, imperfect AND it is exquisitely beautiful at the same time. And the truth of this is reflected in Nature and in my gardens.
There is an intelligence and order to Nature that we, as humans are always trying to control, and yet we are consistently reminded that, in truth, we have no control.
Those pesky weeds that keep coming back…or those those Brown Tail moth caterpillars that have invaded our local oak trees and that so many of us are waging war on. I’ve collected up thousands of them myself and drowned them in soapy water. I don’t take killing another living being lightly. It feels ugly and dark—a fear-based reminder of how little control we actually have and also the extent of the impact that we can unleash when we try to control.
And my skin is literally covered in an itchy rash from the caterpillar’s microscopic toxic hairs that travel in on my pets and are blowing about in the wind. And so I am forced to just observe, my powerlessness, my discomfort, my garden untended. Uncontrolled. I become acutely aware of how vulnerable that feels.
But when I dig deeper and look at my garden with an open heart, the flowers are still shining, stunning, and unphased by all the caterpillars. The mighty oak trees are regenerating (REBIRTHING) new leaves as the onslaught of caterpillars has slowed. The messy beds speak of the beautiful, powerful enduring essence of Pachamama in every “weed”. And that quiet, vulnerable place of observation and self reflection, is where I am reminded that there is beauty and perfection in all things—including myself.
And so I’ve come full circle, or full spiral, it seems. Rebirth. Back to myself. Back to where I feel I left off some thirty years ago when I stopped listening to the call of my heart. I feel vulnerable, like a newborn, but also full of new potential, new possibilities and the joy of new beginnings.
To be human IS to be vulnerable.
And the gift is, when we chose to allow ourselves to be vulnerable, we can create ourselves anew, moment by moment by moment, every single day. 🌀
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I know that whatever happens in my life I can roll with it all. I can feel and embrace the joy and the pain because I know they are not separate, or opposite, but are instead the two wings of the same bird, lifting me up and carrying me along.