“Don’t forget the discount in Patreon” I reminded her. I always put a discount code into Patreon for each workshop so the people in that membership program get rewarded for being in the membership program. 

“I didn’t use that code last workshop” she said.

“I know, why?” I asked.

“I didn’t use that code last workshop” she said.

“I know, why?” I asked.

He laughed to himself in the back of the car, a real laugh from deep within his soul. I couldn’t help but laugh simply listening to him laughing. 

The GPS was shouting out directions, and each time it said the highway that we were on, he laughed more, head back, eyes closed, mouth open, belly laughing. I snickered in the front seat, knowing full well what he was laughing about.

I like rules. I pretend I don’t. I know (as a rule) it’s not cool to like rules, so I pretend I find them irritating and unnecessary. I’m not just talking about rules and laws, but social norms, constructs of faith, personal agreements, world records and casual suggestions. Rules come in so many different packages

I was sitting silently in meditation speaking with one of my guides about sex, sexuality and sexual energy. I was exploring how she was able to be very sensual and sexual without throwing sexual energy out into the space, which was interesting to me.  She poured all of the sexual energy back into herself.

I wore my emotions on my sleeve from the time that I was a small child. My parents never had to question how I felt, they knew, in fact everyone knew. I could never wrap my mind around swallowing my emotions. My process deeply involved how to process my emotions without spraying them all over my reality when the environment wasn’t appropriate.

I often cry during meditation. It isn’t active crying as one might envision, it is more like releasing from my eyes as a gentle way of letting go of energy that doesn’t align any longer. As I worked with the knowledge of imbalance of divine feminine and masculine I noticed that my body was only crying out of the left eye during meditation.

I was mid-sentence inviting him to look at the part of him that makes him less than me. The part of him that puts me above him. The part of him that thinks there is a hierarchy in any form. The part of him that was taught that he wasn’t enough.

I was walking quickly through my living room and stopped dead in my tracks when I saw it. A small, single cheerio that was peeking out from under the couch, begging to be seen. I stood, frozen in time and frozen in my body. A warm, wet tear ran down my cheek before I even recognized that I was crying.

The warm vegetarian lasagna sat on the top of the stove cooling and filling the room with the intense smell of its essence. I had pulled it from the over about 10 minutes earlier and had walked over to check to see if it was ready to be cut and served. 

“Will you cut the lasagna?” I said.

You see, everything is just energy. You are energy. I am energy. Thoughts are just energy. We get to pick how we want to experience our thoughts. Spirit reminded me that I can feel, hear, taste, and touch my thoughts if I want to. I simply need to expand what I think I am capable of.