The One Beating Heart
Awaken from the illusion of seperation.
Mom and I offering ayni at Mushroom Rock State Park, Kansas 2018
All of the signs are there because I’m always looking for them.
And what we’re looking for is looking for us. Waiting for us to notice. Always present, always available. And the ball is in our court. It’s up to us to see what’s showing itself to us. And not just see it with our eyes. But feel it in our bones. Deep in our soul. And we do that by taking a deeper look into the nature of things. Taking a deeper look into our experiences and asking questions. Not expecting the answers to necessarily be obvious, but creating space and sitting in silence and stillness until we feel the spark of insight.
Then reflecting, and contemplating our findings. Not just taking things for surface value. Not simply a nice or exciting spiritual experience, but a message from the divine. A pointer directing our attention toward something. It’s up to us to investigate and realize, no one can do it for us.
Yesterday, on the first day of our cross-country road trip to the Northeast US, my mother and I shared a conversation that inspired profound release and heart-opening within both of us.
We started in Aurora, Colorado where my sister lives, and ended our beautiful first day at an ancient site in Kansas called Mushroom Rock State Park where there are rock formations that are shaped like, yup, you guessed it…mushrooms.
Records state that they’re from the early Cretaceous period (100 million’ish years ago..).
The energy there was so peaceful and calming, it felt like an appropriate stopping point for the day.
We explored and enjoyed and wondered, and took pictures.
Then we sat in silent appreciation, offering our gratitude and ayni (Quecha word meaning reciprocity) by giving back to the site so a balanced exchange of energy could be established.
And while driving the long stretches of interstate highway with miles of flat grasslands, and every so often passing by a herd of cattle or some wild horses, there were signs galore.
Signs most often present themselves to me through numbers and number patterns.
And yesterday was all about 143.
143 = a divine message from Spirit saying, “I Love You” … and you are loved.
Guided.
Supported.
Now granted, we’re always loved, guided, and supported even if we can’t particularly feel it.
But to me, seeing this number repeating over and over again on license plates and signs and billboards and the clock, and how I synchronistically just so happened to notice this number at exactly the right moment each time, felt strongly to me a message of divine unconditional love.
SIGNS ARE WHAT YOU FEEL LIKE THEY MEAN TO YOU.
YOU DON’T NEED TO READ A BOOK OR CONSULT ADVICE FROM ANOTHER PERSON TO UNDERSTAND WHAT A SIGN MEANS.
IT WAS MEANT FOR YOU, FOR YOU TO INTERPRET IT THE WAY ONLY YOU CAN.
It was so exciting, having this beautiful spiritual experience.
My mom was really feeling it too.
There was something powerful moving through us, driving with us on the journey back to my new home on the east coast.
I felt a spiritual high, that was enormously peaceful and light and glossy and fluffy.
And all of the feel-good words one could possibly think of.
When we left the park to drive the 30 minutes to our hotel, I had no idea how dramatically my experience would shift once we arrived.
As I pulled up our car to the Motel 8, I felt this deep sense of fear.
There we were, 2 women alone in sort of the middle of nowhere.
At an age-old motel as the sun was quickly descending.
I walked inside and was greeted by a lovely young woman whom I shared a brief conversation about tattoos with as she checked me in.
But my legs were trembling.
I felt a sense of dis-ease.
Discomfort.
It was extremely unsettling and it only grew more uncomfortable as time laid the sun to rest and the moon with her dark cloak of night washed over the sky above us.
I had a stomach ache.
I felt uncomfortable.
I felt like I should eat something but we were surrounded by fast-food restaurants which I was pretty confident would only aggravate my upset stomach.
But we decided to venture out across the street to grab a bite, and when we were pulling in we noticed a hidden little diner and thought we might be able to get something a bit healthier there.
We parked and walked in.
The young woman who greeted us had a sweet, mild-mannered demeanor and told us to sit wherever we wanted and she’d be right with us.
As my mother and I walked past the soup and salad bar, I took notice of the patrons sitting in the booths and tables around us.
With each step I felt the lightness in my heart grow heavier, and heavier.
I found myself having a hard time making eye contact with anyone.
I felt afraid.
I felt sick.
People were coughing.
The air was stuffy.
I had hot cold sweats.
We sat at our booth and looked through our menu’s.
We picked the healthiest dish we could find, salmon with green beans and placed our order.
My mom went to make a plate at the salad bar and I waited at the table for my turn.
But as I was sitting there waiting, the sickness I felt in my stomach became worse.
It was difficult to breathe, my stomach was turning and bubbling and all knotted up.
The room seemed to be closing in on me.
I felt anxious.
I realized quickly that I was sensing the collective energy of the people dining.
Lots of unprocessed emotions, pain and suffering.
Sickness of the body.
Heavy energy.
But ultimately, I was experiencing a great sense of separation.
I WANTED TO RUN AND HIDE.
I COULDN’T HANDLE IT, IT WAS TOO MUCH…
And I felt trapped.
We had put in our order with the waitress, and there was my mom, innocently making her plate of salad completely unaware of how I was feeling.
I wanted to scream to her let’s just leave, not even take our food and just get the hell out of there.
When she got back to the table I told her we needed to take our food to go, that I wasn’t feeling well.
I ran off to the bathroom shortly thereafter, I thought I was going to vomit.
I purged a lot in that bathroom stall, thankfully I was alone in there.
I felt compelled to start toning with my voice.
Sitting on the toilet, I was sending the sound through myself, from my heart, out of my throat and back into the hearts of all who were in the diner.
I was trying to manipulate the energy of the space so that I could feel more comfortable.
Sure, I was hoping to positively influence the energy fields of the people, but mostly I was just anxious to feel any other way than how I felt in that moment which like I mentioned before had gotten so uncomfortable I just couldn’t handle it anymore.
I was resisting with all my might what I felt moving through and around me. In retrospect, I see how that only made the discomfort grow.
My mom paid and we grabbed our boxes of food and left.
As soon as we made it out to the car I felt a sense of relief.
I had made it out alive.
I wanted to cry.
I explained to my mother what had happened, I could tell she was really worried about me because she didn’t understand what I was experiencing.
I peered out my window to notice the moon was in full effect.
When we got back to our hotel room I started to feel some more relief.
Then the tears came.
I felt like I had to process what wasn’t being felt by my brothers and sisters in that restaurant.
All of the stuff that was too difficult for them to face.
I felt as though we chose that place so that I could be of service energetically to all that sat inside.
My mind was getting involved, trying to make sense of things, as it likes to do.
After the movement of tears felt finished, I moved from the side of the bed where I sat crying to the recliner in the corner.
I took off my shoes and tried to get comfortable, but I just couldn’t.
I knew I had to allow enough space for all of what wanted to be felt, to be felt.
Eventually, I brought myself to have a nice hot shower, inspired by my mom who had just done the same.
I passed out quickly but didn’t sleep well.
This morning as we began driving, we were sitting in silence.
I still felt like there was a lot to be processed.
The small bit of sleep I did get helped, but I still felt drained and unsettled.
I looked out the window.
I made every earnest effort to remain open, to quiet my mind.
To embrace the not knowing and just trust, taking a page from mother natures book as I observed and admired all of her patience and wonder out the passenger window.
I asked Spirit how I may be of service today.
I asked that the veil be removed from my eyes so that I may see.
After some more quiet, I was moved to pray.
I closed my eyes, took a deep breath in, hands folded gently on my lap.
I prayed for all of my brothers and sisters in not just that diner, but everyone who lived in that town.
I visualized the connection between all of us.
In my mind’s eye, it appeared that there were lines of light connecting us all, and those lines all eventually stretched upwards to this one, single beating heart.
That even though on the surface we appeared to be separate we weren’t, and aren’t.
I prayed that each of them may feel peace and well-being in their lives.
And just as I was having that thought, I realized I was doing it again: I was trying to change something and someone.
I wanted things to be different than what there were.
Yes, my intentions were good.
But what became clear to me in that moment was that all that was actually being asked of me last night was to love and accept everyone unconditionally – exactly as they are – including myself.
All day when we were seeing all of the signs that felt like blasts of unconditional love and support, what was happening was our attention was being directed towards something.
The love we felt was pure and energizing.
All was well in our personal worlds.
Essentially, we were in our own little love bubble.
But there’s a whole world happening around us.
If we get stuck in our feel-good bubble and grasp onto it, holding on for dear life to those pleasant feelings, it almost acts as an energetic vaseline.
Nothing can get in, nothing can get out.
A LARGE PART OF WALKING AN AWAKENED PATH IS PARTICIPATING JOYFULLY IN THE SUFFERING OF THE WORLD.
That means we don’t close ourselves off from, or turn the other cheek to the pain and sorrows of those around us, no matter how hard it may be to see, feel and experience empathically what others may be going through.
And we participate joyfully by seeing through the eyes of God, with unconditional love and acceptance for everyone exactly as they are.
We remain compassionate, we open ourselves to feel what wants to be felt, we don’t push it away, make it bad or wrong, or tell ourselves what we’re feeling belongs to someone else.
What ails my brother, ails me.
We’re in this together.
If I can silently be of service to my brother without him ever even knowing it, simply by seeing him, loving him, and accepting him where he is, even if for a short time it’s uncomfortable for me, then I feel honored and privileged to do so.
Because more and more what I’m finding is that all that’s ever being asked of us is to love more.
To be more compassionate.
To be more understanding.
To remember that separation is an illusion.
We are the one beating heart.
With love,
Rachel
JOURNAL PROMPTS
Have you ever felt like something you were feeling “didn’t belong” to you? I’d like to invite you to really feel into that belief.
How did you respond to that thought?
Did you find that you were able to have more compassion for the person whose state of being you were picking up on?
Or did it create more of a sense of you and me, a sense of separation?