awakening

48. ASCENSION

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

During a guided meditation in my women’s circle, I saw an image of my Higher Self. Emerging from the heart of the earth, I sat astride a powerful horse, my golden body in sweet repose, a heavy dampness on my back…furled wings! Feeling compelled to create Her into form, I took my joy to my Q&A journal where I converse with my Higher Self. I’m the Q, she’s the A…

Q. Your form amazed me!
A. I am your Higher Self. Well connected to the Mother with the ability to fly through the dimensions.

Q. I would love to paint you, but I have not the skill
A. Ahh. You will see that your ability to manifest is not limited to what you know but all you “remember’. Time is a spiral. There is an artist in you.

I prefer to work with my hands so I thought “maybe a sculpture”. So I called Grandmother Kathy. She’s a retired art teacher. I asked if she had clay I could come and play with. “Of course!” she said and every Monday morning for 13 weeks I went to her house.

Grandmother Kathy midwifed me as I birthed my vision. The process was amazing. I never before created anything with such ease. I would work a little and then just put it aside. Patience was also birthed from my play with clay.

My Higher-Self assured me that my hands would “remember” how to form clay. And they did…

This sculpture that I created, I call Her Ascension, is my Higher Self formed from clay. Not only feminine, but in sacred union with the masculine. That is who I am now. She is who I’ve become in my 50 years on earth. Finally balanced.

When She was ready to be taken out of the kiln I drove to Kathy’s house filled with trepidation…and remembered for the first time…the feeling of driving to UCLA to pick up Jarys from the NICU. My whole life was going to change when I brought HER home, just like it did when I brought Jarys home. Not that I hadn’t transitioned in the time it took to create HER or the time it took to gestate, birth and wait for my premature baby to be strong enough to come home. Then I was cast back to 1984… my life forever changed by Jarys’ birth…

I nearly died giving birth. I had a rare form of toxemia called HEELP syndrome in which my sky rocketing blood pressure caused seizures while my liver and kidneys started to fail. And our premature 2 ½ pound baby was born intersex. While pregnant, I dreamt of a blond baby boy, so it was no surprise when our baby’s chromosome test revealed the male XY pattern. Yet the pediatric endocrinologist advised we raise our child as a girl. Neither of our mothers understood. The doctor explained that our child would not have secondary sex characteristics. “What’s that?” Our mothers asked. So I explained. “Body and facial hair.”

They laughed. “We’re Greek and Italian. The women in our family have to shave! That’s no reason to castrate the baby!” The endocrinologist had no experience with families who did not follow her medical advice. We were told, “It’s easier to make a hole than a pole.” I was shocked, not by the bluntness, but by the total lack of consideration for the effect of “his” hormones on the developing brain. If we raised “him” as a girl what psychological trauma would “she” undergo at puberty or later in young adulthood. The experts didn’t know. So at 22 and 23 years old, Steve and I had to make a very difficult choice. We decided to follow my intuition, go against medical advice, and raise our baby as a boy.

Jarys became my impetus to learn everything about hormones. I felt intuitively that his DNA was not set in stone but could change. He could make cell receptors for male hormone. He could be anything he wanted to be. So I became a hormone expert which led to developing an Intuitive Integrative Medical model, which led to researching the hypothalamus and genetic upregulation, which led to the dreams of a formula to optimize genetic potential, which led to the manufacture of Genesis Gold® – which has changed my life.

Since bringing Ascension home, my life has changed again. My relationship has deepened even more with my beloved husband. My relationship with my mother became more refined. I have truly released my firstborn and they are blossoming. My daughter grows in leaps and bounds and no longer am I entangled with her. My relationship with my sisters is blooming – no drama at the last family gathering. And being with my father was joyous – Thank God! I am in deep gratitude to my Higher Self for helping me birth my truth.

47. MY ALTAR, MYSELF

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

Directly across from the door to our home is my altar. A lavender macramé cloth covers the small winged table. Objects sacred to me adorn the four corners with candles in the cardinal directions.

The altar changes from time to time according to my needs. Often my children ask to be put on the altar. And I make elaborate altars for them, holding the energy as they face challenges like when my eldest interviewed for their first real teaching job (and thankfully got it!), and my daughter tested for nursing school (and she got in too!) When Steve’s Gran first fell ill, he asked me to dedicate an altar for her. And after she passed, the altar reflected our love and devotion to her.

Today, items sacred to our upcoming retreat lie on the altar…The red cord I made to help us connect to our ancestors and each other. The crow’s feather bound in triple goddess colors that helped us choose the theme of our retreat. A golden frame filled with photos of men I treasure — my husband, my father, my grandfather — my beloved divine masculine.

And in the front — my Box of Me.

I made this one up… but what healing has come from creating a Box of Me. It started just after my father’s surgery, my sisters had moved him into a senior apartment complex and found a box of old photos. In it was a photo I do not recall, but looking at the black and white image of me at thirteen months old dressed in an Easter dress holding a little purse and gazing out with old soul eyes, I remembered. Showing my parents how to parent me and feeling their emotions. I took that photo and pasted it on the Box of Me. Somehow I would heal the child within. And through the Box of Me, placing me on my altar.

Inside the Box of Me, the mementos change yet each represents my dreams, my hopes, my intentions. I’ve guided many patients and some women friends in the creation of a Box of Me. How therapeutic it has been to honor ourselves, to put into this special box all that we hope for and say to the universe YES! Yes, I am. And more so to fall in love with ourselves. Because that’s where love starts. If we don’t love and honor and cherish ourselves, how can we love and honor and cherish each other?

It’s hard for most women to make a Box of Me…harder yet to place anything sacred within their Box of Me. It is start, a fresh start to healing the child within. I ask them to choose a photo of themselves that is before the time they remember the trauma of childhood. The innocent time before becoming domesticated into humanity. A time when they remember being happy. Few go back to adolescence, most go back early childhood, some all the way back to infancy.

In the center lies the golden runner embroidered by Steve’s Yia Yia…a wedding gift given to me by his father who came from Greece to witness our union 28 years ago. Upon the runner sits Ascension.

46. MEDICINE WHEELS AND SACRED SPACES

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

Like many on their journey, I turned to the writing of others to learn more about myself. In the 90’s I was fascinated by Native American spirituality and read most of Mary Summer Rain’s books in which she is mentored by a Native American elder…a grandmother of great wisdom. I am grateful the author shared her path. So much so that I share mine with you now.

So I created a Medicine Wheel garden in our side yard. I divided the eight sections with rocks and planted each section with the same types of flowers and herbs. In each I placed sacred items representing my path on the medicine wheel. And the garden grew so lovely, except in those areas that I needed to work on—self-esteem and relationships. Another message from Mother Earth to me.

When we moved here I longed for another Medicine Wheel. We created garden spaces, beautiful outdoor rooms lush with plants. The herb garden, my patients pass through to get to the office, grew lush and vibrant in less than six weeks. My husband and I have very green thumbs. I plant intuitively and he puts in the watering and keeps the critters under control. Well, he and the cat keep the critters under control.

In the north section of our property is our horse corral. The barn was built shortly after the house in the 50’s, so there’s horse energy in the place of wisdom. Though I find my horse most wise indeed, I still envisioned a Medicine Wheel under the sprawling oak in the north corner. There I would seek wisdom from the land, from Gaia herself.

We had perfect rocks for the Medicine Wheel. Dug up by the pool builders, these smooth golden boulders would mark the directions elegantly. But Steve had parked the horse trailer under the oak. How I longed for another Medicine Wheel…

And one day, the oak split and crushed the trailer that was parked in the spot designated for my Medicine Wheel. That’s what I get for wanting something badly enough. It comes to me. I don’t miss the horse trailer, but I sure do love my Medicine Wheel. And so does my horse ☺

Shane treats the Medicine Wheel as sacred, at least she seems to. I never find manure within the circle. The old gelding that died last fall wasn’t as respectful. Yet a few years ago, we were watching the Fourth of July firework display when the horses spooked and ran into the circle of rocks, then turned and calmly watched the fireworks with us.

In the morning after I feed and pick up manure, I seek refuge in my Medicine Wheel. I sit on the Eastern rock and meditate. Usually the animals join me. Fortunately, the rock is big enough for me, a cat in my lap, a dog by my side and a pygmy goat. The horse doesn’t try to get into my lap like the goat, but she hovers. It’s awesome to be surrounded by my beloved animals.

It’s important for my soul growth to create sacred spaces. I recommend it to my patients when they begin their journey or are feeling lost. Create a sacred space. Somewhere in your home or outside in the garden, set aside a spot for you to connect to your Higher Self. Outside I have my Medicine Wheel. Inside I have My Altar.

45. SACRED FEMININE CONNECTIONS

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

I alone chose Cat as the Druid oracle of my Intuition. Cat is aware of the spirit world. That I am. Cat observes without judgment. This, I’ll have to work on.

In 2003, I was given the Native American Medicine Cards as a gift and promptly chose my nine animal totems. Was I shocked! I had thought of myself as strong almost masculine in my ability to achieve. Yet I chose very feminine cards. Even my masculine side was represented by Spider which the Native Americans refer to as Grandmother Spider, the one who weaves our reality.

And Steve chose very masculine cards like Wolf and Mountain Lion. While I showed the world my tough side, Steve had no qualms revealing his softer side. The friend who gifted me with the cards was not surprised by my totems. “The world perceives you as very feminine, in spite of your masculine stance.”

The veil had been lifted. And from then on I knew myself as an embodiment of the Sacred Feminine. Writing LoveDance® allowed me to live freely as Woman. As the Divine Daughter, I danced my heart through the free expression of my emotion. And over time, I have come to cherish my Divine Mother Self. Now entering menopause, I hope to know myself as the Divine Grandmother.
The Change doesn’t come quickly. It is a process. I recognized this after reading Women Who Run With the Wolves.

April 5, 2009
I am undergoing a transformation. I am entering the change…and it is truly changing my life. My relationship with my sisters is improved. And although I rarely write, rarely blog, rarely market, all the old seeds are coming to fruit.

Dreams are lucid, exploring my inner psyche. I am being initiated into the grandmother’s council and I love it.

I type this on a new computer. The old died, like so much passing in my life…Sara, Auntie, Karen …death leads to birth. The winds of change clear the way for the new.

Most profound of all is my ability to instantly manifest. What I think becomes. If I desire something greatly enough, it manifests. I have had little need to confront my worries as they absolve before me. I am in the state of realization. Becoming the Magdalen, the way to the divine.

The polarity of good and evil does not exist in my world. All is of joy. All is of love. All is well. Lessons cloaked in distasteful garb are often the most profound. Rarely is it difficult now. I move into my sage-hood with ease.

Estes relates stories as a means to understand the psyche. I see great connection with LoveDance® and her rendition of the archetypal stories. I naturally wrote into the story the maiden, the child-self, the queen/bride, the king/groom, the mage and the gardener. Perhaps this is why the book touches so many on such a deep level. Story heals souls.

I am so very well, so very blessed. Gratitude has become a way of life. Love is my essence. The world is opening to receive me and I am prepared to bare all to be Joy.

And here in this book, I bare all and you, my reader, are open to receive. Tonight I shall take the role of Crone in the triad that serves our women’s circle. A practice run as sage or the beginning of the next phase of my life…hmmm…

44. CIRCLES OF SISTERS

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

I am sitting in a circle with my mother, my sisters, and my nieces. In the center lies a deck of Druid Animal Oracles. With a bit of Irish and a tad of Scottish blood running through our veins, our interest is piqued. A few summers before I had introduced my sisters to Medicine Cards from the Native American tradition. These cards represent the animals sacred to the Celtic tradition. Time to reconnect to our roots.

We each pick five cards. Each of us uses a different method to choose yet all choose wisely. The cards seem to speak to our souls. The center represents Self. The East is Intellect. The South is Sensuality. The West is Emotion. The North is Intuition. The cards come with a book interpreting each oracle. “Let Aunt Debbie read. It sounds more real when she reads.” My youngest niece scribes while I read.

While my eldest niece attends closely, the rest have trouble giving their full attention to the one whose turn it is to choose. We could use a talking stick. Over the years, I have noticed how little we attend to each other. We each have something funnier or more brilliant to contribute than what is being spoken in the moment. Crosstalk is rampant at every gathering. If you cannot attend to everything going on at once then you get lost. Perry Sister brilliance is loud and quick…few can keep up with us.

In my women’s circle, we pass the talking “stick” or crystal or feather and each woman has a turn to share what’s going on in her life. The rest of us attend quietly only giving insight if she asks. After sharing at the last circle, we needed to discuss the retreat schedule. These ethereal women don’t do business. So it got chaotic…few understood what was needed, women were offering random suggestions and the one trying to keep notes got lost. My Perry Sister brilliance clicked on as I interpreted all the crosstalk. The note taker asked how I was able to do it. “I listen fast.” I replied.

Yet as I watched my nieces try to understand the meaning of their cards, I witnessed my sisters chat amongst themselves not really present in the moment. It was interesting how many cards in common we all had…but we are family. My youngest sister and I both chose Goose and like Mother Goose, we are very maternal. I share Seal with my sister, the mother of my four nieces. Seal represents True Love, Longing and Dilemma. I’ve been faced with many dilemmas in my life and longed to know myself as love. I’ve found True Love.

We are at a time of our lives when The Change can force change upon us. Grandchildren come to us just as our fertility leaves us. Our spouses are changing too, sometimes for the better, sometimes not fast enough. We long for something. Many menopausal women begin their spiritual journeys. That’s one of the gifts of being Hormonally Challenged. You begin to see your life through different eyes…and you want more.

My husband told me once in the midst of my searching. “You climb up the fence to get to the grass on the other side and at the top you meet someone climbing over to get to your grass.” He says it’s all the same grass…perceived through different eyes.

True. But we all go through times when we need to be sure our grass is as green as it gets.

40. A HERETIC IN THE VATICAN

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

And then I dreamt I was Mary Magdalen. And ten days later we were in Rome. Oh, not because the archdiocese found out about my visions…because it was our 20th anniversary trip to Italy.

Our first European trip was right after 911…but that’s another story. Maybe later.

We began in Rome and on the second day visited the Vatican. Imagine this. Me — educated in scientific theorem, left brained, mathematical, logical, yet trusting my intuition implicitly with a lifetime of prophetic dreams — ascending the winding staircase leading to the Sistine Chapel. The energy of the art overwhelms me. Emotion drips from the frescoes. I can hardly breathe. A guard takes notice and gently guides me to an open window. I take gasping breaths of fresh air. “Not everyone is so sensitive.” He nods towards the herd of people peering at the art like they are visiting the zoo. Apparently not.

Torn between visions of the past and the present hustle and bustle of this iconic museum, I realize viscerally how the sacred feminine was lost. I knew, yet didn’t have gnosis, of this loss until I walked the ancient streets with my husband in form and Yeshua in spirit. Behind a covey of nuns, I say silently. “They believe they’re married to you.” And I hear, Not Yeshua the man, but the mythical Christ.

Before entering St Peter’s square, I hesitate. Yeshua’s presence is so palpable even Steve perceives it. “Come on, you two! I bought the tickets and we are going in!”

It costs a little to view history, the religious relics. It cost a lot to be reminded of a past not completely told. And to have Her side of history flooding my memory.

Grateful to openly discuss my visions with Steve, yet feeling a little schizophrenic with the aliveness of this other reality. The voices, the images, the feelings, I am in between the worlds – Yeshua, angels, facets of god brought more vividly to life in the ancient city.

September 27, 2003

In the wee morning hours I am awakened from a dream in which I, as Deborah, am laying my hands on Mary Magdalen who is laying her hands on me blessing one another as goddesses unto eternity. Then all energies merge into one essence. I lay face down on the bed flattened out by the sheer power of the dream with Yeshua comforting me, whispering, I am she, I am the goddess. I know the secret of manifestation, I know joy. I am joy as is the hummingbird. I taste all of the nectar in life.

Then as I turn onto my back, my hands clasped in prayer, I am guided by the angel Gabriel, who I recognize as the one who escorted me as Mary into my womb to share the forgotten secrets of womanhood. Then Archangel Michael speaks from my right, reminded me that I also have been escorted from darkness by Archangel Lucifer (known as Uriel in Hebrew or God’s light) who smiles at me from my left and delivers me back to myself, back to the One. Then I feel Angel Raphael as the muse behind me fueling my spirit, challenging me to reveal myself to the world. Yeshua speaks, then I hear for the first time the Father above me, the Mother on my left, Yeshua at my right hand as I am his left.

The Father speaks- I am beloved, he has never forsaken me, I will remember all but for now I am to live in the eternal now blending past and present into a glorious future. I can see the glory of my relationship with Steve, as my beloved husband, and Kyra with her joyful goddess energy as a reflection of my own, and Jarys coming into the world manifesting a blend of masculine and feminine energies as an experiment to know himself as god. All my worries are lifted. I am asked to open my heart and to open my arms and invite in abundance. I am reassured that I will be and have been protected and held in the bosom of the One, for I am the joy and he/she/it/the beloved is well pleased.

I breathe in Yeshua, the son, the lover, my friend, and the Mother and the Father. I am whole and I am holy. I am asked to release from my heart all that I believe have forsaken me, then bless them with peace, love, joy and comfort, re-invite them back as whole and accept the abundance and forgiveness for myself and for all. I am freed from all bonds. Even my bulimia is revealed unto me as the false judgment of self not deserving love or abundance. Since the 16th it has been over. I am free and this trip is to be enjoyed with Steve in the eternal Now.

Time is not a line but a spiral circling back and forth weaving in and out of the now. My Italian experience removed layers of history, revealing to me my own truth. I knew for the first time myself as an embodiment of the goddess. Growing up with the patriarchal judgment I saw mirrored in the world, I used the son energies of reasoning and academia to survive – as I spent most of my early life being the scientist, exploring the masculine aspect of self. At 42 I found myself being born again as a sacred feminine embodiment of emotion, my power lies in the creative energies as I manifest beauty and love in my life. Finally, I was free to be the divine daughter filled with passion, emotion and love, infused in relationship to all that is, with people, plants, animals, angels, souls past and present. A bridge to reunite the mind, body, spirit with Love.

September 29, 2003

More comes in clearly during the emotional experience of exploring the museums. The renaissance and medieval buildings are enough to inspire a passionate awakening. The art pulls at my heart strings. The depictions of Christ as a mythical being rather than a man. I just feel that they got it wrong! Yet who am I to enlighten them.

While in Italy, I dreamt of attending a conference where I share with a huge audience how to become consciously connected by highlighting exactly what happened to me. I realized that I would someday share my revelation with the world, yet the novel came first and changed my writing style increasing my inter-dimensional connections creating such an awakening that I would no longer write academically but intimately.

October 7, 2003

My life will be written from my perspective now as well as my life as Mary. Which is fact and which is fiction? They are both my realities.

37. BEING MORMON

Excerpt from “My Lovedance”

Yes, I was Mormon as a teenager. And yes, we were married in the Mormon temple. And my friend’s family was Mormon. And one of my sisters is still Mormon.

Being Mormon was my idea. It least that’s how I remember it. Going into high school was difficult enough, but having to watch over my sisters, well, that was nearly impossible. The only church at the time with an active youth group was Mormon. And they preached no alcohol, no drugs, no sex before marriage. Great! If I could figure out how to get my sisters into that Mormon youth group, well, they would be a better influence than the influence of the sex, drugs and rock and roll crowd.

So I invited the Mormon missionaries to the house. It was a no-brainer. They were handsome young men in suits. My sisters were 11 and 13 and very fond of handsome young men. And one was IN LOVE with Donny Osmond. Her side of the room was purple and plastered with the teen idol. Like I said…a no-brainer.

And we were baptized. Me, my three sisters, and my mother. My father thought we were nuts. He hadn’t succumbed to the Catholic pressure and now we were switching teams. My mother joined to keep an eye on us. Well, she didn’t just join, she kind of took over. Led the young woman’s group…really, kept her eye on us.

And it worked! No one got pregnant before marriage. No one got in trouble with drugs or alcohol and not with the law. And I no longer had to be the shepherdess of my sisters. Thank goodness.

Now being a good student, I took Mormonism seriously at the time. I read the book of Mormon, their Doctrines and Covenants, and the bible (for the first time, since Catholics don’t have bibles, at least we didn’t).

The good thing about being Mormon was the sisterhood. The bad thing was the patriarchy.

I had the same issue with Mormonism as I had with Catholicism. I needed no man to intervene on my behalf. Why couldn’t women hold the priesthood? At that time, black men couldn’t hold the priesthood either. Which wasn’t fair in my eyes, rather prejudice, I felt. I’m not sure why, something to do with Jesus being white…but I knew that was wrong…cause in spite of their pictures…Jesus was brown, way darker than any of us. At least the Jesus who had been visiting me since I was little was really dark.

Oh, and another thing about Mormonism. I didn’t believe in the whole save yourself for marriage thing. I saved myself for my soul mate. Once I found him, well, we were sixteen and seventeen, spilling over with hormones, and we loved each other. I was saved…by love. My torturer was anorexia and reconnecting to love saved me. Thank God for Steve!

But I still wanted to get married in the temple. Why? Because I liked the idea of being sealed for eternity. It seemed like we had searched forever to find each other. Perhaps a sacred marriage ceremony would insure we wouldn’t get separated again.

So Steve joined the Mormon church. As he says, “I wanted you. And would do anything to make you happy.’ And that’s what I thought would make me happy at the time.

The church felt like we had community. And then we moved away. But being Mormon meant instant community wherever you are. So we found a stake center. That’s what Mormons call the place they meet. Mormon temples are for sacred ceremonies like marriages and baptisms for the dead. Yes, the dead are baptized and then married. That’s why the Mormons are so into genealogy…to find their ancestors and seal them all into one great big Mormon heaven. Now that’s how I remember being Mormon.