Where do you find your power? Is it in your voice? Do you plug in through the walls of your home? Is it in your history or legacy? Perhaps it is in good health, strong muscles and bones, ease and flow. A healthy bank account? Education? Do you need others’ praise or encouragement to find your energy or to feel good? How about with your job, or your passion? When you dive in, do you feel powerful or full of energy? Maybe it’s in the success of your loved ones? Or in your wit? How about your ability to infuse others with light — like laughter shared with a stranger you meet in line? Perhaps how you bring others to tears by reaching out? Is it a thumbs up when words can’t begin to convey all that you wish to say? Yes, Love. You, Love. What lights you up?
And if your energy is zapped or your navigational system is off, who is in charge of getting it aligned with your true north in this life trip? When these hands dance with others for the first time I often see energetic lines flipped off like breaker boxes that have been tripped. What do you do when you’ve been tripped? How do you find peace?
Again, I’m writing as I’m flying, this time from LA to Washington D.C. Two weeks ago, I wrote longhand as I flew from LA to Rhode Island to a packed schedule of art fun and dancing hands sessions. As I shared last newsletter, I had been unplugged from much of the wild news for a variety of reasons, but this left space for me to write in the car as we drove in the night. Slower than this plane, yet faster than my ancestral wagon train, it was a luxury to be curled up in the passenger seat freely writing the energy flowing through my hands in their first language. I was like a puppy with her head out the window. I even rolled the window down a one point, bundled up against the cold wind, and for a long time, head back, I drank in the whirling stars as we wound through the curves of the mountains. Oh my stars! Oh, this sky! I purred to see the beauty. My mind spun, settled, and tried to distill this journey — dancing hands and dancing heart.
Maybe you heard me sigh over and over again at the beauty as we crossed the US — from the narrow corridors of New England’s just-turning autumnal trees to New York City’s strangely glistening corridors that forced me to look up at her puffy clouds floating in such startling blue. After dancing in the happiest little oasis of love in Harlem and filling our spirit with the many stories we gathered from the dancers as well as those from the artists of The Met the next day, we mapped our way from Loves to Loves to Loves across the flats of this vast, great country. Friendly folk abound, friends. It was wonderful. We changed lanes and exchanged stories with fellow travelers, tasted the local eats as much as we could, shook hands, asked tips, and delighted in the accents from state to state.
As I mentioned, we had a spontaneous stop at the Cahokia Mounds, (a beautiful sacred Native American area along the Mississippi, also known as a land of giants), where I danced a new place of big joy in the grid of JDH journey. My heart and hands stretched to dance and sing gratitude and I felt beloved Topanga, Mt. Shasta, and Mauna Kea, too. Funnily enough, here, I “lost” also my prescription sunglasses in a blink of the sunset. We searched everywhere for 30 min. Somewhere between the dimensions we suspect there is a giant wearing tiny glasses, grateful he can see a little better from the slow lane.
Driving on under the wide skies we sang cheesy 70’s songs from our youth, chatted about life, love, big dreams, and sometimes just conversed in the language pouring out of me constantly — in song, or in what feels like lullaby, prayer or gently and emphatic encouragement to all who are within its tones, trills, clicks and rolling rhythms to keep on. Peace wraps. We sifted through our beliefs, theories, spirituality, and politics, too — not easy subjects these days — but these must be fleshed out as best we can in respectful partnership here. Wounds beg flushing. A new path must be charted. Inspiration winks.
Sometimes as we took turns driving, we simply meditated in silence upon the vastness of this Universe — necessary mind rest when traversing ley lines of the earth, heaven, or what brought us here, and how we might be able to love it all into an even sweeter way. Do you get these times of necessary dreamy rest, too? Are you plugging into real life enough? If not, consider taking a date or a road trip with yourself and just unplugged BE.
We paused to see dear friends tucked under a great mountain of energy to hug, catch up, sift out gold and iron regarding the intense times, and give thanks again for the way time folds into no time when seeing friends who feel like family. As the sun rose on a new day we made investments of true value — more love. I was even able to dance ever so briefly and connect with a few of you online in a Facebook Live — enough to ground the miles’ hum, dust my toes with the fine, sparkling red dirt of the magical rocks of Sedona, and share the peaceful power of this sunny, sweet spot before we hustled in the hybrid toward home. It posted for 30 min., then deleted, as it was best for that moment in time. It may be the new way. Everything is shifting as maps are being redrawn. We are recalibrating. Invite spontaneity and Source to dance, open hands and heart, and just be in the moment.
Out of the bubble and back in So. Cal, I returned to my soft pillow and I felt as if I could sleep for a week. Was this jet lag? Car lag? My brain felt foggy. My throat felt strange and dry. I wasn’t sick. The weather was historically hot and the skies hung heavy with a brown … hmm, I couldn’t put my finger on this haze. Sludge in the airstream that rolled south after the fires? I don’t know.
I checked in with my dancing angels in many parts of the country and across the board, and even if I didn’t directly ask them, each mentioned that they felt off, or their circle felt scattered, or their friends or mates were edgy, distracted, anxious, choked up, short fused or exhausted. Everywhere! The breaker boxes, it seemed, needed attention everywhere, but it starts at home. I flipped off my router. That felt better. I unplugged my electricity. That felt better. My smart phone that was now surging and looking for connection — I turned off. That felt better. I climbed on my bike. It was hot, but it felt better. I had hot tea by a fountain in the sunshine. I watched birds bathe. I listened to children playing. I felt the warmth of the light and I felt better.
When the hard drive of the world seems too much, Loves, unplug from all the extra forms of connection and just be with your true Source. Listen. Breathe. Sing your own song. Rewrite your own news to good or better. Scrub your skin of EMF stimulation. Bathe. Sweep your dance floor with the blessings of your life, and with each pass of the broom lay out all that you wish to imbue into your next dance of thriving.
Then, when you are truly connected to your supreme power of Source Energy, and feel the reboot, gently return to the tasks at hand. There is impact to all as the edges of the winds of hurricanes whip, or the flood waters rise over our family homes, or when we see the roaring flames burn all in its path, or feel politics poke a hundred holes into that which we hold precious. This earth is our home. We are family. We made agreements of integrity, caring, and more. We are brothers and sisters here, so do what you can to take time off, to pray or dance or sing, ground and refresh. I call these strange, confusing times: The Destabilizing Times – they are rocking us off the foundations of our former status quo and complacency so that we may all rebuild with greater heart, transparency, health, and true compassionate companionship. A sacred path gleams, inviting all. We will get through, but we have to be all in on taking good care of each other and ourselves.
Personal Testimonial (and what we all can do):
The night before last I was rushing to eat between sessions and in keeping my still bubbling, boiling soup away from my hungry 26-toed cat who’d jumped up I inadvertently jiggled my bowl and spilled the scalding broth over both hands. (Yes, my hands!) I screamed, dropped the bowl on the table with a bang, and raced to the faucet to plunge them in cold water. I had less than ten minutes until my next session and it was to be a long, significant one. I had to address this like a mother pulling a car off her child. I had to tap into the Love that runs through me when I dance and the greatest Source of that Love and all power, and get my hands back to their harmony immediately.
They were bright red and were stinging from the scalding soup. I “was sung” as I am danced in the language that sings through me. I sang with the water to cool. I sang with the skin to remember the perfect temperature. I sang with time because my client needed help even more than my hands, so I asked that I could also be brought into the mix of all we can be when connected in “no time at all.” And then I stopped singing and listened.
I turned off the faucet and my hands were still red and throbbing. I was still a bit afraid of the temperature of my soup, but when I get direction like this, I listen. I sat and ate.
The temperature was perfect. It was neither too hot nor too cold. It was just right. It felt soothing on my throat. It felt good in my hungry belly. It was exactly the right taste, the perfect consistency, and it was good in my body and for my body. As I scooped the last bit of broth into my mouth I noticed my left hand had returned to its normal color and felt perfect. I noticed while my right hand was still a little pink it, also, didn’t hurt. I Skyped into my session on time and immediately began clapping and snapping for her. All was well. There was no more pain. We’d merged inside and out with the perfect and delicious soup. My right hand only had the faintest blush that I perhaps I’d forgotten her capacity to harmonize so quickly.
I feel a little choked up as I write this. We are one with all – the hot and the cool, the light and dark, night and day, soup and water and the way that minutes later a scalding burn on both hands could move quickly to service for another because there is no time to waste in not helping ourselves AND helping one another into the all-good of All-That-Is.
As I fly to a weekend of two new groupings of light-workers, healers, helpers, dancers, people who hurt, people who have been hurt, people who are so over this hurting space spinning madly out of our seeming control I invite you to join me – in the room or in your heart to listening more deeply and dancing with the divine in a new way evolution of humankind-ness. From the untraditional Dancing Hands Circle in the tree house setting of magical Maryland on Saturday to the 7-hour Sparkling Circle of unmasking to our truest self on Sunday at Washington D.C. Unity (and a potluck to follow so we can just BE together after in happy ease), you are invited to join us to see how you, too, can take the scalding sting of things, and bring them into happy applause of peace.
When I opened my laptop an hour or more ago, my head bobbed down suddenly sleepy. Sometimes this is a hint of a download coming. I pushed back: “I must write the newsletter for this week!” It felt like curtains being drawn again. My eyes closed. Still, fighting sleep I asked, “What will I write, then? How will I address the scattered spirit of many in our sparkling circle of friends around the globe?” It’s not just an American issue. Many are tripping with the strain of watching the world “events” boil over and scald our hearts. I finally stopped the chatter. I got quiet. And head to heart I heard:
“Straight up. Straight in.”
“Straight up. Straight in,” I repeated. These four words showered over me.
And so I wrote this to you. Straight up. Straight in we go – together — shoulder-to-shoulder in a circle of sparkling love, grace, harmony and intentions for our best and highest good. If you’re feeling out of sorts, kindly, gently reset your compass with love. Circle up with those who support and whole-heartedly celebrate your evolution in true Sourced power in this wild road trip of life. Eat. Merge with the divine. Align for good.
Hope to see you on the dance floor soon.
With love and blue skies always,