21 A Gnu to my Lions
“It’s all coming together.” In this case, “all” doesn’t mean (for now) outer things like a career falling into place or a Sacred Union emerging. I am talking about inner things here.
Some days ago, I saw a reel on Instagram. Two gnus were being chased by a lion. They were fleeing and reached a street. All of a sudden, one of the gnus (actually the smaller one) stopped, turned around—and with the same power she had been running away, she now walked towards the lion. She gave no way (to her fear) any longer—and the lion moved back.
Yesterday, I became this gnu—against all the lion-voices in my head and the lion-feelings in my body that had been chasing me for years in fight-and-freeze-and-flight.
I had been waking up in the morning, and the lions of the past 12 years had gathered, telling me that there was no chance for my dreams to be experienced, or for me to experience my dreams. And above all, no chance for the Sacred Union partnership (which I know deep in my heart exists).
Before leaving to see Magdalena, I put myself into the state of feeling fully provided (using Dr. Joe’s 20-minute changing boxes meditation; other modalities do the same: put yourself in alpha brainwaves, become clear about how you want to feel, feel it, and call the experience in through your heart).
Magdalena opened the door. We looked like a leopard-print chessboard: her top was leopard print, her skirt black, my pants leopard print, my top black. Magdalena said she had a present for me. A sticker had fallen out of a stack of stickers the night before, and she said she just knew it was for me:
I started crying out of relief, and all the salt ran over her shoulder. It felt so good to be held. We spoke about the impasse: the point where you feel like you can’t let go of your dream and, at the same time, can’t do anything for it to become true. And then we took 100 pictures, full of us in leopard prints.
Later, at a summer beach party, I saw couples dancing and hugging in the cold wind. The lion-voice started to tell me that I made a mistake by leaving the relationship I had. The lion-feeling tried to spread a very old pain of aloneness and feeling left out through my body. But I took a stand, quite literally. I felt my feet in the sand and refused to think and feel in old ways.
It was a full pink moon, and a friend asked me what my vision was for the next season. Letting all in beyond what I can imagine.
I went to my car and refused to give way to the going-home-alone lion voice. It didn’t feel like pushing a truth away or refusing to listen to a truth. It felt like saying no to a fucking unhealthy addiction. Thought addictions are very sneaky; they pretend to be true. I wrote in my notes app:
this moment marks the end of
this is not available for me
because it the fuck is
In bed, I reflected on this day. It was a great day. A day of victory. A feeling started to go through my body, a feeling of widening. I know this feeling well; for years, I just had not been able to read or hold it. It usually came when an idea wanted to come through for writing. In the old days, I had started to drink or smoke a cigarette then because I was simply not able to hold this feeling of expansion. It feels great—and at the same time, scary.
No words or vision were coming, just this feeling or energy of widening. So I simply said: welcome, you are allowed to widen me, to open me up to whatever it is that I am needed for. Or that I need this opening for. And I am ready and willing to receive. I fell asleep and slept deep and well.
This morning, I woke up. And in the phase after waking, my dream came to me like a person. My dream said: I am possible. Believe in me. And take me seriously: because I am.
It was as if the dream said: I already said yes, all it takes for me to come into existence is your yes to me. It felt weird because I thought I had already said yes. And then I spent many years trying to figure out or wondering whether my dream was possible or not. I had blamed my dream for not being possible (for me, because others seemed to be living my dream,) for not coming through to me (or God, or myself, or the three of us). I had declared it impossible (with the help of non-believers, standard society rules, and some semi-helpful programming) and then worked super hard to prove my own declaration wrong.
I had never simply admitted that my dream is possible.
Yes, my dream is possible. I had just disagreed.
Until now. Now I tell my dream:
I am here for you
I do believe you come true
I am ready for you to be lived through me.
The thing is: without us, our dreams are just dreams. They need us. All of us.
PS: It is evening now. Today, I realized that you can invite your dream into your room, just like a person. A dream is an energy. I love the energy and presence of my dream. I really appreciate the shift in perception: to realize that my dream needs me. The whole thing now feels more like an invitation to dance with my dream—instead of manufacturing it into life.
I also discovered that I am a joyful person. That there is a joy inside of me that wants to move through and out. It surprised me because I had always thought that I was too serious and that finding joy would be a long and hard path for me. Maybe not. I also find myself wanting to go to concerts. Maybe it is because… I’ll think about that tomorrow. If I feel like thinking about it.