Love & Abuse: My Journey with Access Consciousness

Posted on by Blossom Benedict

It took my five years to write this. 

I didn’t actually plan to.  But then life sometimes has its own ways.

Many of you know that I was deeply involved in an organization called Access Consciousness for 12 years. Recently, an old colleague of mine left that group, and has been creating quite a stir.

A surprising number of people have contacted me in the last few weeks asking about my own departure.

Hmmmm…

I have spent years wrestling with the question of if I owe anyone any words.  I helped create and maintain the image of Access as a beautiful self-help modality about consciousness for over a decade.

Do I owe the people that I brought in… an apology? Or details about anything I witnessed happening behind the scenes?

I still don’t have an answer to that question.  Because we are all on such very different paths.

But recently, as I see and hear about my friend Lauren’s experience (hear recordings of her being publicly shamed, sworn at, and slammed for speaking up), I feel compelled to say a few words.

I’ll start with one truth perhaps most people who know this work can agree on:

One of the things Access is about is awareness.  There are absolutely beautiful possibilities brought about by some of those tools.

I can tell you hundreds of stories of generous, kind and caring moments I had with the founders, Gary and Dain.  They, and the Access staff, made up almost the entire guest list at my wedding.  They were my family for over a decade. I get it.  The love. When they are vulnerable and undefended, it is an exquisite and enrapturing space.

I can also tell you dozens of shocking and extremely damaging things I witnessed, experienced and participated in.

Because here’s the thing….

Love and abuse are not exclusive.  These stories neither excuse each other nor cancel each other out.  That is precisely what makes certain relationships so haunting, confusing and maddening to unpack.

Both/ and.

I have come to believe that Access is about many things.  Included in my list, especially when questioned, are: power, money, gaslighting, retribution and abuse.

By the time I left, I was convinced that I was a narcissistic sociopath who deserved to die for telling someone the truth about an investment project that I was concerned was not legal. I have sat quietly for the last five years unpacking that sentence.

No one gets the blame for my story. It is perfect, exactly as it is.  It has been the single most growing, healing, maddening, soul shattering, liberating thing that has happened in my life. I have mined great treasures in the bits of truth I found in their accusations of me.  I was blind to many of my shadows, and I acted out of integrity in a number of ways.

I have also been liberated by seeing and naming some of the many atrocities and lies.

What a holy healing journey that has been!

One of the hardest things in this life is to hold a paradox.  To hold two conflicting truths in your hand at the same time.  How do we make sense of our most disorienting experiences? And the fact that human beings are so disappointingly…. human?

I don’t think Access was ever meant to be a destination.  It was meant to bring tools to empower people to trust themselves, then go into the world to create a more beautiful life.  Somewhere, amidst all the money and power, it seems, to me, to have gotten desperately off its rails.

A few weeks ago I went on a retreat.  For the first few days, I couldn’t figure out what I was experiencing, and why it felt so foreign in my body.

It was integrity.

In this space, there were no unspoken rules cancelling out the spoken ones.  What the leader said we would be doing was exactly, and only, what was being done. Speaking honestly had no chance of getting anyone shamed, mocked or cast out.

And if it would, I knew with every fibre of my being, I would simply walk out the door.

I think I have finally made it to the place where I will not give my authority over to anything outside of myself ever again.  If that is true…. literally anything and everything that has brought me to this moment, is a precious and sacred gift.

I am not here to chime in on whether Access is, or is not, a cult.  Unpack that word any way you will.

What I know is that a group can stand for absolutely mesmerizing principles… and when there are charismatic leaders that are not to be questioned at the helm, it’s a rather squirrely game.

It does not mean you should not play it. Only you will know that.  

For years I was afraid to speak.  Afraid of retaliation, sure.  But also afraid of my own subjectivity.  Afraid I might write the narrative incorrectly inside myself.  

I thought my story was so complicated and unique that no one could ever fully understand it.

It’s not.

It’s actually kind of simple.

I am you… (to the millions of women who have loved and defended your abuser).

I am you…. (to the billions of humans who have ever given your authority away to a teacher, a guru, a god).

We are not broken.  We are human.

And part of how we heal, is by the simple, and powerful, speaking of truth.

I would like to share a piece I wrote about taking back your life. It doesn’t say what you think it will.

May you walk your path the only way you can.

Take Back Your Life!

Posted on by Blossom Benedict

“Take back your life!”

It’s easy to see a phrase like that and feel like you are meant to do something. That you must be gallant. That by someone else’s rallying cry (or program or bestselling how to) you should leave that marriage, set better boundaries, make that big leap.

But here’s the thing. You will or you wont. You will. When the time is right for you. Or you won’t. And that will be perfect.

Perhaps you don’t have to worry so much.

Life is happening. It is pushing us and showing us things. Life may bring you success in one chapter, only to knock you down and show you that was never what you thought it was in the next. Well, isn’t that wild?!

I worried for years about how to leave Access. But then life made it happen. I can look back and judge that I should have left sooner. But I couldn’t. I was not the person who could leave. Life had not given me the ingredients, in this case, the pain threshold, I needed to do that. I needed to watch myself being the person who did not speak her truth. I needed to feel how it felt in my body to be resentful and angry and frustrated and sneaky, even in the midst of a swirly, magical looking life. I needed to watch what occurs in this form when my thoughts veer towards money and attention and proving that I am of value in this world.

Why? There is no why. It is my life, that is why. My life. I am simply a creature, a unique combination of who I came into the world as, mixed with my very singular experience of being on the planet (my mentors, my trauma, my culture, the beliefs and values of the people around me in the place I was born), for whom that was the only possible path.

Where you are right now is the only possible place you can be. Because it is where you are.

For some people, part of that unfolding life story at some point includes awareness dawning; that who you are and how you are operating in the world does not feel good. You are frustrated. Or bitter. Or not at peace. Perhaps there comes a time where it is simply not satisfying to make choices from the beliefs of the people who raised you. Maybe you notice it makes you filled with rage to play by certain rules set out by others. Or you become aware of how a certain mindset is deeply destructive, and keeps you isolated or afraid.

Well, remarkable!

What if you don’t have to do anything about that either?

You don’t.

A different current is now flowing through you. As awareness dawns, you will be different. Not because you tried, but because it is now a seed planted. New branches of the river, new possible future choices are being created up ahead. This is not a new idea that simply watching your life unfold, objectively, without attachment, is so powerful. But it is.

Others may never have this awareness dawn. And that is not their fault. That is not what they or their lives have made available to them. Or at least not now. Let it be.

For a long time after I left Access I wanted others to leave as well. I felt angry, betrayed even, by anyone who stayed. I no longer feel that way.

“Let everything be exactly as it is.” This phrase returns, and saves me once again.

If I do not know where my own story is going, I most certainly do not know about yours! Something intense had to happen for me to leave. And you? Well, it may be exactly what you need. Now. For a little bit. Forever. Maybe you feel empowered by where you are? Maybe you need that social network? Maybe you too, need to give yourself away, before being smashed wide awake? I literally don’t know. Something quite grand is at play as all our lives swirl together. It’s beautiful!

I have finally realized that everyone else’s life is not my rodeo. This is your movie. You will watch this scene as long as life has you watching it. And then, something will come next.

No one wants to be patient. But as a brilliant friend of mine put it, “you can’t binge watch this movie”. So sit tight. Things are happening. You will find out your next move soon enough.

I have come to believe that our life experiences are truly treasures.

Treasure them. Or rage against them. Feel whatever you feel.

But life builds on itself.

If you surrender to whatever is present for you right now… You will get the astonishing gift of whatever comes next.

Two Swans and a Tambourine

Posted on by Blossom Benedict

Gosh, what a trip.  This life thing we are doing.

I’ve been thinking about you a lot over these last few years.  Even the years I didn’t write at all.  And wondering how your journey has been unfolding.

Mine has been bizarre and awe inspiring, humbling and infuriating.  It has been all of it.

Today I am enjoying dancing in that mystical state of wonder.  For how shimmery and beautiful and mesmerizing this whole process can occasionally be.

A few nights ago I was watching a drummer play a tambourine. Just a tambourine.  And yet… he was so alive, so sparkly and shiny as himself, it was as if he had broken through the veil between realities; as if I could see the star dust he is made from… the god particles that he is… the uniqueness that only he is here to shine as.

It was… transcendent? Is that too strong a word?  It didn’t feel like it.  He was simply being himself… and yet it felt like just watching him was changing the very structures of my cells.

I realized that these are really the moments I live for these days. The startling moments when I see that perfect uniqueness shining through someone, or even more mystifying, when someone provokes that uniqueness out of me.

I have two swans: Gwendolyn and Theodore.  They are funny and majestic, but they cannot fly (it’s a terrible story I will write about some day, but all “pet” swans have their wings clipped and are grounded. It is heartbreaking. Full stop.)  But when swans, even pet swans, have babies… after a few months of shuffling the cygnets around on their backs, and then the tiny fluff balls trailing mama in the water… the babies fly away.  They migrate.  Sometimes hundred or thousands of miles.  Without ever having seen their parents fly.

Something in them knows. It knows where they are going.  And what they are here to do.  Something deep within them knows exactly who and what they are.

Today I find the drummer and the swans merging within me.  They are swirling together, reminding me of two very mystical truths.

One: We are each divinely unique creatures.

Two: In spite of anything the world has tried to tell you that you are, or that you should be— there is something unbreakable inside each of us that simply knows.

Something within you knows what kind of creature you are.  How your awareness works.  What is most valuable to your system.

Something inside you knows how to migrate.  Something inside you knows how (and where and when) to fly.

You have a compass.  You have homing devices.

Five years ago I had a shattering that showed me how infinitely far I had gotten from myself.  How much I had given my authority away. It was deeply destabilizing   And humbling.  And if you have followed me or my journey for long, you will know, I chose to be silent for a very long time.

Should you be curious, you can read my story of that unraveling, and healing here.

But the short version is simply that life is remarkable.  And at the perfect moment I was gifted with a fascinating and deeply useful vehicle for beginning the journey of finding my way back home.

And man, I don’t claim that my journey is like anyone else’s. Or that my path is for you. Or that I am now anything other than deep within my own process.

But I am now someone who shouts madly from the rooftops “Keep digging! It’s worth it!  There is so much to be gained from becoming yourself!”

Whether life invites you to gently stumble upon yourself, dances you sweetly into your essence, (or drags you naked, moaning, with bloody knees, across large shards of shattered glass to get you to exactly where you need to be for your own awakening)… What an orchestration!  What life! I cheer you on.

You are a swan! (Or a purple ladybug, or a dragonfly who tap dances in her sleep).

The point is– you are unique.

And the most fascinating game on the block (to me) goes like this: Find out, somehow, what you are! And then surrender, whole heartedly, to watching your distinctive life unfurl.

I believe we each have the potential of waking up to our own frequency and uncovering what kind of creature we are. Should you choose to play, I suspect you will be tickled (mystified, satisfied, surprised) by the journey as well.

Much love to you on your journey, wherever it is taking you. I hope it includes moments of astonishment, as you wake up to the beauty of who and what you truly are.

In joy,

Blossom

My Journey With Human Design

Posted on by Blossom Benedict

Human Design has been a journey of personal healing for me. It was never something I set out to teach. I honestly didn’t know if I would ever have the stomach to teach anything ever again.

I came to find Human Design after what I can only describe as a shattering. I had been teaching in the personal development space for a decade, in a fairly public way, that made me feel relatively important, and like I mattered in the world. But I was teaching someone else’s work, and like most spaces revolving around power and money, there were all kinds of rules to stay in that game. Over time, I started compromising more, hiding more, telling people what they wanted to hear, lying to myself.

I was out of integrity with my body. I knew I couldn’t stay. But being good at pulling strings, I felt confident I could manage this exit with grace and flair. Leave but maintain my friendships and reputation. Realign me to my truth, but not have to sacrifice anything to do that. How wrong I was!

My attempt to extricate myself gracefully quickly turned into a bad tragi-horror-comedy. It was like I was in quicksand… surrounding a nuclear reactor. The more I struggled, the faster I sank.

Then, one day, in the middle of a situation I literally had no internal resources to navigate, my horse stepped on my head. And there… I finally did something I had never considered before. I stopped struggling. I surrendered. I let it all go.

I came up from my concussion months later feeling deeply broken. My mind was desperate to make sense of what had happened. Terrible things had been said to me, about me, that I had a real need to sort out. Was I wrong? Were they wrong? Who was I actually? What had I been hiding? What did I believe in or care about? And how in the world had I gotten so disconnected from myself?

My journey over the next four years was steeped in silence, reflection, studying (studying, studying), and nature. For all intents and purposes, I basically pulled myself out of the world. I left social media. Abandoned my email list. Instead, I went to the mystics. To the poets. I grew food on the earth. About a year into that process, I was tossed an incredible additional tool: Human Design.

Human Design didn’t so much give me answers to the questions I was asking… but it did give me maps. And I had all the time and energy in the world to experiment with and explore them.

I held so much secret shame about certain ways I had behaved. The first time I was told about certain gates in my chart, I just sobbed. I hated that someone could know that terrible thing about me, or that that terrible thing existed within me at all. But over time, as I reflected and went deeper, I found my shame and judgment of characteristics turning into deep self-compassion. I looked at my openness and felt really tender about the unknown aspects of the world I was navigating and attempting to learn about. I looked at my definition and saw how grateful I was for those internal resources when used at the right time. Even the controlling or intense ones. And that yes, while I loved perfection… my design was distinctly mortal. Sorry, Blossom. And welcome to the human race.

I held anger and resentment of certain people in my life. As I studied their charts, and how they connected to mine, I realized that they were just being themself (or being their not-self). There really was no one at fault. No blame. It just was.

I looked at the charts of major events in my life (where the planets were at those moments) and was deeply touched and mystified to see the story of what had happened, written out on each day. (You would not believe it if I showed you how the day of my concussion fits in with my Saturn return, and the chart of the person I was in conflict with, and my own life story. It is wild!) “That was always going to happen” something in me realized. It had to happen. It is just part of the story. My story. All is well.

And like that, piece by piece, I began making peace with the life I was in, the movie I was watching, the story as it was unfolding. Like that, the healing began.

When I realized it was time for me to start sharing (teaching) again, I honestly felt some terror. “My open throat!” “My open ego!” “Did my mind just want attention again?” “Ahhh!!” But then I looked back to my design and it was clear to me why my body wanted to teach. This joy I bring to all the things I am exploring. My deep sensitivity to the support of my tribe. This ability to see the patterns that are not right, and an insatiable desire to correct them. Deep dedication and determination to go all the way through an experience for whatever it has to offer. And a demand within myself for integrity and authenticity along the way. My vehicle is here to support and share. So while I really am quite a hermit right now, if you are desiring a greater understanding of or alignment with yourself, there is so much I suddenly have the energy to show you and share!

If my joy, sensitivity, or correction can support you in your experiment or journey through your own life story, it would be my honor. Cause this sure is one wild ride!

——-
Blossom is a 6/2 (Role Model/Hermit) Emotional Generator, IHDS Certified Analyst, and Living Your Design Guide with over 18 years experience in facilitating groups and holding space.

My Design

Would you like to see your own map? You can run your own Human Design chart for free here.

 

My Endless Winter

Posted on by Blossom Benedict

I still get these quarterly statements from my website. This many visits. This many bounces. This long they stayed.

I’ve started to wonder if they are mistakes. This strangely odd number of people I am told by google that still go to my website each month and stick around to read.

“Read what?” a part of me always asks.

It’s been over two and a half years since I had anything I really wanted to say. Two and a half years!

I keep expecting my audience to vanish. (I’ve made peace with that as well, if you do.)

And yet, here some of you still are. Years into my quietude. Which strangely made me want to say hello.

I was in New York a few weeks ago, dancing something called the Five Rhythms. (It’s good work. It gets me in my body and moving through my emotional landscape without attributing the sticky bits to anything in particular. Physical. Therapy.)

We got to the rhythm of “stillness” and I broke.  Down.  Open.  

(I say that as though it was a singular event. Like it was the first or final breaking of me. Let me be clear, it wasn’t. It was the seventh or seventieth or seven hundredth breaking. Another mysterious and beautiful process I’ve surrendered to.)

I lay on the floor and let my body sob. Celebrating. Watching.

What struck me, in that moment was actually something quite cliche. It was the simplicity of the seasons. The rhythms of life.

That spring is always exciting and bubbling with life, followed by summer that is generally hot and full of intensity.

That winter is always dark. Still. Renewing. Fallow.

In the past few years, I have felt a million times like the winter will quite literally, never end. That it is more like death than renewal. That the story is over when we get to this bit, rather than just a chapter or a page.

And yet… in all the discomfort, the one thing I have been almost mystically clear about, is that I will not force the timing. There is something happening inside me.  That I get to witness. This deep rewriting. This non-optional reboot.  

And so I wait.

But now … here I am dancing. And we get to stillness. To winter. I am laying on a cold wooden floor, in a strange kind of allowance for the bottomless nothing… and out of nowhere I can feel my cells start this buzzing… I can feel the next rhythm. A flowing. An excitement. Holy fucking shit! It is spring!

Not here. Not yet. But coming. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh”

An ocean of sorrow then passion then gratitude sweep through my body, erupting through all my face holes, into a snotty and uncontrollable celebration on the floor. 

That was the breaking. The breaking open.  The breaking through. 

I think that’s called grace.

It turns out that spring follows winter.

Every year.

Every year.

Every year.

It might feel holy to me today, but it is actually just what happens.

It happens whether you trust it will or fight it or dig in your heels. You not in charge of the timing. None of us are.

I have learned so much in this seemingly fallow season of “nothing.”

I have created order in the lifetimes of chaos in my closets and drawers. I have gotten very curious about my defenses and become diligent about observing my own wild moods. I have discovered that place inside me that knows how to make things beautiful. And that other place that gets off on making a mess. I have found I have the ability to sit very still, sometimes for days, if there is something I want to learn. (And man, is there much I have been learning!)

Mostly, I have been unbecoming. Unfashioning the tale that I have to be something to be something. Reclaiming the sovereignty I’ve so happily handed over to others throughout my life.

Being present with what is in front of me today.  

We each get to watch our own beautiful life unfolding. Our own evolution happening. You can throw popcorn at the screen or snuggle up. But the movie still plays.

It’s a messy process, this waking up to our own humanity. Let me rephrase that— mine most certainly is.  

And in truth, I have no idea where it is leading.  If winter is actually over at all, or I just got an early peek at spring.  But I get it now.  The surrender part.  And I am 100% in. 

Which brings me to you my beautiful friend. And to my own little blessing for you today:

That if you you are in spring, may you enjoy the wonder. Bask in the aliveness. Fall in love.

If you are in summer, may you soak up the heat. Play hard. Conquer the world.

But if you are in winter, may you surrender to the deep breathe in. Be still. Let it break you. And cover you up.

Winter resets us. Renews us. Demands that we nourish ourselves. It clears away the noise.

You will open again later. That’s not what I promise, it’s what the earth promises. What the mystery promises. It is what rhythms of forever show. It is what has been promised to me. 

Can you be present with the season pulsing through you? Not as a victim but as a participant?

Even if it’s cold?

I feel you. I love you.

You’ve got this.

I’ve got this.

I will write again in a decade, or a week. We will find out together.  (Of course I hope it’s soon.  I always do.) 

Let the mystery continue!

I’m Not Who I Appear to Be on Facebook

Posted on by Meredith

I was deeply disturbed by a Facebook memory that popped up on my feed the other day.

It was a gushing post (of mine) about gratitude… complete with photos of a gaggle of girls smiling…. eating something fabulous, of course.

It included hash tags about laughing and emoji hearts.

I remember that weekend well. But not because of the laughing.

It’s seared in my mind as one of the more painful weekends I can recall.

Several of my closest friendships were disintegrating. My core beliefs about myself and the world were quickly falling apart. I was promoting an event I felt super conflicted about. And every other meal ended up with salty tears doing the major seasoning of my food.

In all that confusion… I appear to have put on a great big smile, added emojis and told a surface level story instead.

Sure, I do love that city. Sure, the food there was great. But I was also miserable on that trip.

I see that post and my heart breaks. For me. For the image I was so carefully defending.

But also for everyone else who saw that post. One more post that perpetuated the bubble of half truths and refrigerator magnet joy, so often seen bouncing around the social media world.

The truth is… I couldn’t have captured the whole story in a post, even if I had wanted to. It was complicated. And messy. And not actually appropriate for mass consumption at that time anyway.

I don’t judge that I put it up.

But it was only, ever, a small part of the truth. I think we need to remember that.

Two people have written on my wall recently that I remind them of a Disney princess.

This is not good.

If I give this impression.

It’s lovely. But it’s just not real.

And thus, I think, it’s worth expounding upon:

The reason I post about my animals so much lately, is not because I think I am an amazing princess animal whisperer.

It’s because the phase I am in right now is so deeply raw and human and tender that I have nothing much else to say.

So I connect to you through the creatures around me. Who happen to be quite cute. And who do indeed bring me joy.

This post is not to invoke sympathy. I’m fine. I’m growing. In many ways, I’m great.

But if I have ever given you the impression my life is perfect…

It’s just not.

It’s full of questions,

and uncertainty,

and sadness.

Full of simplicity, and surrender, and unused drive.

Full of beauty and growing authenticity and the grittiest kind of love.

But slim on answers,

on direction,

And (hallelujah, finally, even) advice.

It was not my intention to turn this phase into having the appearance of a fairytale. I have just required a lot of solitude. A lot of reflection. A lot less sharing. A lot more grace.

I get it can be so easy to scroll through a feed and think you have a sense of who is living the good life. And why.

I suppose I just wanted to remind us all, that a smiling photo, matching family Easter dresses, a trek through Spain, whatever it may be…

All that we share…

… is really only, ever, always,

one part of the truth.

It’s all it can be.

We are complicated.

As you scroll… tread lightly on judging yourself.

My Slightly Scandalous Marriage

Posted on by Meredith

Yesterday was my 5 year anniversary.

The other day I put up some slightly sappy sentiments on Facebook about it, which you are more than welcome to read.

But while I’m being sentimental… I have one more thing to say…

Dudes!

Ron is 29 years older than me.

29!

When we met that seemed scandalous to both of us.

Our second date the sweet old lady selling us museum tickets looked up from the counter and asked “is that one student and one senior?”

(Bless her heart.)

I’m not going to lie… there were things about that fact that were complicated. Kids, friends, perceptions.

But a scandal is almost always about what other people think. It’s never about what is true for you.

This life we are in… it is so full of conditioning that we often don’t even see it.

Have kids, settle down, find your passion, make something of yourself, don’t rock the boat, be yourself (the reasoned social media acceptable version of course!)

We start doing those things without even questioning if they are actually part of our path. If they have anything to do with what will make us uniquely filled up.

What do you know?

What works for you?

What would you like to create?

And who would you like to have along for the ride in what ways?

I like Ron. He’s kind of awesome. And uniquely kind. I got my life would be a greater adventure with him in it.

What if it could be that simple?

People will talk. People always talk.

While they talk, why not take a brave step forward with creating that life that is ravishingly yours and wonder full?

Every time I make a choice where that is the criteria… I’m glad I did.

Then just be kind and smart and present… Cause you’ll sort out the rest as you go.

Losing My Love. But Worth It.

Posted on by Meredith

I know it’s Mother’s Day.  And this is a sad story.  But it is also a story about being a mom. 

And a love that took me by surprise.  

If there is anything you have ever lost that you loved, I thought you might relate to my yesterday.

See the other night we had a thunderstorm.

I thought “I should go check on the babies.” And then I fell right back asleep. 

In the morning I could not find baby Rumi. Then I saw a hay bale in their fort that had been pushed about 6 inches out from the wall.

Rumi was down in the crack… upside down between the hay bale and the wall.

I can only imagine the babies got scared from the thunder and piled on top of each other (as they do) and Rumi got crammed down in the crack and couldn’t get back up.

I pulled him up and he was still warm, but not breathing. We tried all the things you try. Pumping his heart. A sort of goat CPR.

Panic. Shock. Desperation.

Baby was really truly gone.

And while many of the thoughts rolling through my head include phrases like:

— “I should have…”
— “If I’d only…”
— and “Why this one?”
​​​​​​​
My main question today is actually about love. What do we do with those moments of love that change us? Do we just be grateful for them and let them go? Do we let them haunt us? Do we bathe in them? Learn from them? Hold them lightly?

You see, Rumi was not just one of six little goats.  He was my wise little mystic.  There was no hiding that he was my favorite. Rumi was just pure love.

I slept with him in the hay. Fed him bottles. Nursed him back to health one scary night after he had found and nibbled on a toxic bush.   In a few short weeks he prodded open a very tender part of my heart.

In in turn, he returned to me just peaceful… open… sweet love.

I am so aware that I could do so many things with my sorrow. I could say I don’t want any goats. I could stop loving the other babies. I could say “it’s only a goat” and move on with my day.

Or I can just let that love wash over me. And that sorrow wash over me. And sit quietly in the grateful complicated mess of it all.

We all have loss.  

All day I have gotten messages, incredibly sweet messages, from people who have lost their pets or their children or their spouses.  Notes of beauty and caring and grief. 

We don’t choose what we lose.  But we do participate in how it shapes us.

Do we love less or more? Do we care more or less? Does it break us open or closed?

I don’t know what it is you have lost.  Lost your love? Lost your way? Lost your faith? Lost your parents? Lost your friend? Lost your dreams? 

I wonder…. How will that loss shape your future? Shape your heart? Shape your day? 

Today, I will cry until I’m ready to stop. 

I will celebrate this little goat man who passed too quickly through my life.

I will go plant a field of wildflowers and invite him to stay in my life.  

And then I will wonder who else I can love like that. Tenderly. Bigly.

Rumi, I will miss you so very much. I really am so very sorry you had to go so soon. But I thank you for coming in the first place. It was truly a gift to be your mom.

Happy Mother’s Day to all.  Be it a day of great joy or a day of deep sorrow.  

You are loved.
You are love.
You get to love. 

As the saying goes, you know that “better to have love and lost” one…

It is worth it.

Tenderly,
Blossom

P.S.  Warning: this video is a bit sad, but I was truly captivated by how my dog Milo responded to losing his friend.  If there was any way to bring baby back to life, Milo would have found it. He licked and prodded and whined desperately until the very last moment Rumi was blanketed with earth. What truly incredible creatures.

I Used to Roll my Eyes at All These Things

Posted on by Meredith

Once again, it’s been months since I’ve written. I just go through these phases where I can’t.

It’s as if my system is still decompressing from decades of pressure cooking. Of doing and moving and achieving and hustling.

So while I used to be highly motivated to send consistent blogs and memes and social updates… with the exception of those moments when I feel truly inspired… I’ve just let it all take a big exhale.

I’m finding I’m just not willing to force anything anymore. At all.

My requests this year have been:

– To truly see (truth, beauty, who I am, what is).
– To connect with and amplify the voice of my own knowing.
– And to let go of everything that doesn’t serve me.

It wasn’t until I slowed down that I realized the insanity of how I had been running my life. What I thought mattered. Whose beliefs were dictating how I was using my sweet (numbered) days.

I’ve been doing a lot of things lately I’ve spent my life rolling my eyes at. The hippy dippy stuff. Not only meditation but also…

Inner child work. (seriously!?)
Forgiveness stuff (boooooring)
Delving into some really old anger. (Man, do I have some anger!)
Sitting with sadness.
Creating space for the divine.

The thing is, it actually hasn’t been boring or icky at all. It just feels required. Overdue. Life giving. Human.

It purges out of me.

It makes me feel less on a pedestal and separate from everyone and more an actual person, who can create space and be present and care.

Today I woke up and I wanted to write to you.  I wanted to write to you because the deeper I get into my own process, the more think I about you and yours.

It is a strange journey… this being human thing.

And I am continuously grateful to be along for some small portion with YOU. 

So…

– What is one thing you can do today to nourish yourself?
– What have you labeled “productive” or “unproductive” that maybe isn’t serving you?
– Is there anything you have rolled your eyes at that might actually contribute to you?
– Whose beliefs are dictating your goals or how you spend your time?

Take your shoes off and walk over the frosty grass.

Go hold cats at the humane society for an afternoon.

Make that fresh ginger tea and take a decadent 30 minutes watching the birds while you drink it.

Enjoy whatever phase you are in. The messy one. The revealing one. The charged up conquer the world one.

Allow yourself to fall apart. Or fall together. Or be changed from within.

At least that’s what I’m doing right now.

And it has been alarmingly good.

Much love to you this beautiful day, 
Blossom

P.S. I have 6 baby pygmy fainting goats joining my family next Saturday. I thought you might “need” to see their sweet little faces. Hard to hang out with these little dudes without a smile. 🙂

Reading Rumi & Being

Posted on by Meredith

Reading Rumi—

This morning I woke up anxious and deeply sad.

I used to do all sorts of things about that. To change it. Used specific methods to make it go away.

Today I sat with it and watched the snow fall.

Then I went down to my sauna and sat in the dark. A meditation and prayer.

As I settled into an eventual stillness, I picked up Rumi to join me.

Rumi and I laugh a lot. We weep. We sigh. We fill back up.

I thought there was nothing better on a snowy Sunday afternoon than to invite you to tea with Rumi.

May I read to you for a bit?

I love this man.