It’s 5:35 a.m. on Nov. 4. I haven’t checked the election maps or results yet today. I’m cleaving to this dark-dawn on my own before I ingest that particular “reality”. I trust my heart. I trust in God.
Okay I can’t resist it forever. And I’m not sure I should try. Ugh. 5:52 after reading the news: It looks a little bad. I had hoped for a Biden landslide. I did actually think the country might come to its senses in this way. I inhale. I don’t know.
With not knowing comes a sense of bubbles in my chest, like champagne. It’s so much easier and feels so much better to not know. I love my country, though it makes no sense to me. I would belong, I am sure, better in Europe. If life wishes to send us oversees, I’m open to that. And. But. We continue onward. We breathe. We succeed. We secede. I wish I could awaken from the Trump nightmare. Why is he still here?
I’m grateful for the purr of my breath. The world must think we’re mad, tipping so close to choosing a dictator. Close to half of us voted for a dictator to lead us. Holy f*#. The other half know that a different ruler, the moneyed 1%, already pull way too many puppet strings behind the scenes. The spiritual among us are awakening as fast as we possibly can to raise us all into heaven on Earth. We work for social justice and a fair path for all at birth. We dream of a time when all life has its basic needs met and we all do for the good of all.
I’ve recently been healing the toxic masculine dictator within. He’s willing to destroy all life to have his way. He’s the one who screamed at me and called me weak each day as I tried to run, but couldn’t, because I had severe Type 1 Diabetes blooming and no one knew it yet. By the time I was finally diagnosed, I spent three days hovering in the ICU where I could have gone into cardiac arrest at any moment. That’s who he has been, this toxic masculine dictator inside me. And he fiercely denies his own vulnerability, and so scathingly despises the vulnerable: Women, animals, the fragile Earth. I healed him the day before yesterday using beholding, a powerful meditation technique. It came after I was running while still getting well from a virus, and realized he was still inside me after all these years, and that was why I was so terrified of a Trump victory. What we fear is within us. And here’s what I know: Only love and support softened this part of me enough to begin to be willing to let go and let God.
And it was a big ego death, the kind where you feel like you’re actually dying. But by the end, he was sending love back to me, and the parched and thirsty feminine in me felt loved for the first time and supported. And I told him so and he was so happy and proud to be able to help. So this is what we are healing, I believe. Matt Kahn says we don’t heal unconsciousness by opposing it.
So I send love to Donald Trump and to the toxic masculinity everywhere that’s willing to destroy all life to get its way. I know sending love will work better than anything else because of my own recent experience with my mini DT. I focus on staying in non-judgment (because I don’t know anyway), and bubbles arise from my heart.
I don’t think putting half our country into the category of “evil” is a good idea anyway. They just do it right back to us. We project our darkness on the “other,” and this U.S. rift deepens when what each aspect of us needs is unconditional love and presence to awaken and heal our hearts and minds.
I inhale. I exhale. I come to my senses. And I commit to help the vulnerable, the animals, the humans, all of us in the circle of life. Even those who fiercely deny their own humanity and their connection to our circle of life.
Help me, God, holy Divine Mother. It feels kind of overwhelming. Guide me, guard me, direct me, and protect me now.
As more results filter in, I’m stunned by the madness.
I hold my heart and breathe until that judgment softens. My heart widens to the light pouring in to melt me open.