Transforming Fire (Manipura)

       Manipura, located in the upper abdomen, is the very core of our feminine mystique.  The fires that burn from our bellies bring forth into the world our mental abilities, intellect, and confidence.  From these flames spit our personal power, identity, and confidence.  A woman who can make decisions, clear judgments, and assert her opinions and beliefs is a woman with a well balanced solar plexus chakra.  It's difficult, especially for a person still healing, to exert bravery and stand up for themselves.  We must learn to tame our inner fires so as not to misuse our power or let our ambition abuse those around us, but we must also learn to fan the flames within us in order to take control of our own lives and feel the independence that we so longingly strive for.
       In Sanskrit this word means "shining gem", which is very becoming considering the way that life's pressures squeeze us until we either turn to diamonds or dust.  To better understand Manipura, we must first look at the element that represents it.  When thinking of fire I think of the weakest, yet most unyielding, of the elements.  Fire is lovely to look at, beautiful, enchanting.  It draws us in and has a mystical allure that can't quite be explained.  Fire brings warmth, color, and even fun as it dances in a way that seems to say, "I can't be tamed."  When out of control a fire can scorch the earth and consume everything in its path, but when stifled the fire can be easily put out by every other element.  Air, water, and earth can all suffocate a hesitant flame with ease, but fire needs and craves all of the other elements in order to exist.  Fire needs the air in order to burn, the earth to contain it, and the water to temper it.  In this same respect, our personalities can display this imbalance as excessive control or helplessness, obsession or irresponsibility, intolerance or overindulgence, insecurity, fear, lack of confidence or low self-esteem.  A balanced Manipura allows us the much needed control over our thoughts and emotions to help us set healthy boundaries.
       Anytime we must fight within ourselves to muster up the courage to conquer a fear, or when we struggle to speak up for ourselves, or whenever we simply have to employ self-control in a situation, we are activating and exercising our solar plexus chakra.  We must learn to utilize this energy force for our own sake, to fulfill our own personal power.  We need to know that we have the means to tap into self-assurance, self-discipline, and to move forward in confidence anytime we get the courage to reach inside of ourselves and let our yellow fire shine through.  Fire has the ability to hurt others, but it also can take other elements and transform them into more than their original selves.  Through the flames water can become air, air can become water, and earth can become glass.  Personal power does not mean that we have the ability to manipulate others, it means that we have the potential to master ourselves, and that vital capability to choose is the softly spoken message of the Manipura.  We can overcome any fear, conquer any demon, and demand the respect that we deserve.  I will not judge or criticize myself any longer, but instead I will choose to seek out and live my life purpose.  I will light Manipura as a torch held high and let its light guide me to love and accept myself, to stand up for myself, and to be strong and courageous.  It will remind me that I am worthy of love, kindness, and respect.  Its blaze will awaken in me the ability to choose what is best for myself and express myself in a powerful way.  Its warmth will keep strong the ambition to direct my own life and my power to choose.  I am free in any situation.  I feel my own power, and I am at peace within myself.
What burns within you?

"Until you've found the fire inside yourself you won't reach the spring of life."
- Rumi

In My Shadow- A Short Story

       I walked through my life with my head down, just trying to get through.  I finally stumbled upon a cobblestone path where I was forced to look up and observe the scenery.  I quite suddenly realized that I had not been paying attention to the people in my life, and things were somehow different than before.  I found a shaded spot beneath a willow tree and decided to stay for a while.  I had journeyed far, and had visited many places.  Some places I came to had been beautiful and lovely, leaving an imprint on my heart forever.  Other places were dark and frightening, leaving a scar in the place of the untouched map of skin that once was there.  As I sat, I pondered my journeys and allowed them to change my thoughts.  I welcomed the sorrow and the joy alike, but couldn't help but wonder why I had been so absorbed with my own journey that I had forgotten to ask you how yours had been.  You've been on a journey also, as we all are, and we both ended up back on the same cobblestone street.  You on one side, and me on the other.  I sit beneath the willow branches and absorb the suns heat from the brown dirt beneath my legs, and you lay on feathers across the way anxiously awaiting.  For what?  I don't know.  I ask you about your travels, and you seem unimpressed with them as you shrug a shoulder and try to close your eyes to the chaos in your mind.  I can see it now.  The beautiful storm that surrounds your brain swirls endlessly with needs.  The storm needs attention, and you are tired from the weight.  I rise from my dirt patch and tread closer to your bed of feathers, squinting through the wind of your storm to see if I can retrace your footprints.  I follow them back down the cobblestone street, one small foot after another, until they turn down a dark and shadowy path.  The trees here are dense and familiar.  Owls query and ravens cry with each step that I take.  I press on because I need to know where you have been; I must understand this storm that surrounds you in your beautiful bed of feathers and gold.  The forest air chills, sending goosebumps up my arms and down my spine.  I hold myself for warmth and shrug further on.  Deeper and deeper into the trees I go, and just when I am beginning to think that I may never make it through, I see rays of sunlight stretching their arms towards me.  I hasten nearer to the iridescent fingers of warmth and step out into a meadow of red dirt and  kudzu.  Catfish swim through the clouds, gulping down birds along their way to the waterfalls of vines.  Stray dogs and broken bottles litter the earth where abandoned teepees stand torn.  I hear a growl behind me that sends me into a hard run.  I push my legs to run faster and not give out as my breath comes in ragged gasps and the skin of my feet is torn by the jagged edges of hundred year old arrowheads.  I can hear the heavy fall of the beasts paws as they strike the ground directly behind my heels, the snarling teeth never letting up, spittle splashing against my hurried calves.  My sides ache and my eyes blur with fearful tears.  My toes hit something hard in the clay, causing my body to tumble forward.  As I fall, time seems to suspend itself and I can see the scenery begin to change.  The rabid dog drifts farther away, the sun lowers across the horizon, and stars pop from the fishes mustached mouths.  A giant ocean wave rises up as high as the horizon and crashes down before me, slowly creeping its way up to lick at my fingers as I hold my upper body up from the sand.  Exhausted, I let my face fall to the damp beach as I pant to catch my still gone breath.  As I begin to relax, I open my eyes and see another footprint directly beneath the spotlight of the moon.  Pulling myself up from the beach, I dust off my legs and slowly make my way to examine the etching in the shoreline.  A soft song eerily drifts up from the surf, beckoning me to try the footprint on for size.  Unsure, I lift my foot and place it directly into the outline that lay in the sand.  Tears spring to my eyes as I realize that I had been following my own footprints the whole time.  I bend over from the weight of my heart, the salt falling from my cheeks to mix with the tresses of the ocean.  The water pools inside of my footprint in an odd way, much like a tide pool within a tide pool.  I lean in and look closely to discern that there is another, smaller, footprint within my own.  Full of shock, I turn and race back up the dunes towards the red dirt.  I gulp in the thick air as I run once more from the monsters that chase me.  Past the snarling dog, dodging the broken glass, leaping from the swooping crows, and stumbling back up the cobblestone path towards your familiar form.  "Why did you follow me?" I cried breathlessly.  I had never seen our paths cross while you grew and I went out on my own journey, because you had stepped in each footprint that I had left along the way.  You look up sleepily from your golden feather bed and whisper, "You are my duality and my mirror."  Your eyes immediately flutter back to close and I can hear your rhythmic breath falling softly upon the ground.  Feeling heavy and defeated, I drag my feet across the street and sit once more beneath my willow tree.  Hot tears continue to fall, making mud beneath my legs.  All this time I thought that I had left you in a safe place while I cast shadows and fought monsters.  But you had been behind me the whole time, treading on my shadow, blindly following me and having to fight the beasts of my journey as your own.  Unsure where we will go from here, I drop my head and whisper, "I could never judge you; I know you.  But taming this storm will be the hardest thing you've ever done, and the greatest achievement of your life."
Who's walking in your footsteps?

"Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us."
- Samuel Smiles

Dance, My Soul

      Silence is a phenomenon that does not truly exist.  When we are alone, quiet, at rest, we can feel that void as a heavy cloud weighing and pressing down on us.  But the reality is that we are never alone and the earth is never silent.  When the chaos of the day turns into a cool night, and the chatter of the humans we share this planet with subsides, that is when the earth is able to reach out and beckon our ears to the place where the music truly lingers.  The song of the wind calls us to hearken as the leaves and branches of the trees it blows invite us to come sit and listen for a while.  In the starlight the cicadas and crickets charm us into a dance of sacred steps that can only be known to the dancer who reaches deep within to remember the soul movement that was understood exclusively by those who once resided among awareness.  There is an emotional untethering, a mental and even physical release that gushes from deep in our hearts when we close our eyes and recall that ancient music that lives within us all.  It is a song of primordial consciousness, a freedom that exists only when we forget our mortal bodies and weave a tale too complex to be spoken with language.  It is a legend too powerful to be seen with human eyes and too essential to be understood by physical senses.  The song that we feel inside of our hearts, the dance that we release from the bottom of our souls, is a force that can't be written, spoken, or rationalized.  There is a reason that music makes a party, that love is expressed lyrically, worship is sung into the heavens, that we meditate and journey to the rhythm of the drum.  Ideas much too deep and important to be told plainly are crooned and strummed into earthly existence, flowing from our inner worlds of spiritual depths.  Emotions are expressed in a way that only song can convey and only dance can appease.  Music is a therapy, an urge, a desperate longing, a sacred calling, a means of transformation for the hybrid divine.  The oldest instrument known to man is the flute.  Made from bird bones and mammoth ivory, the flute was played at night while tribes sang and danced round a fire of heat and passion.  Alone, or surrounded by like-hearted kindred, let the music connect you with the earth and all that is in realms that cannot be seen.  The drum is the intoxicating heartbeat and our voices rise to mingle with the neural pathways of the heavens.  As we let our limbs twist and wind through the celestial ether, blood pounding in time with natures pulse, our feet drumming the earth and sending shoots of roots into the under-realms of space, we can clearly see why we smile.  Our hearts quicken and our ears prick up to the sound of a tune we can grasp onto and our faces smile when we realize that the song in you is the song in me, because it is the joy of the earth and the secrets of God.
What is your soul dancing to?

"Dance Of The Moonlight..." painted by bohomaz13

Music by Sarah Howle & Wyatt Garey

"Music expresses that which cannot be said and on which it is impossible to be silent."

- Victor Hugo

Surrender- Step 3

       I'm stubborn, that's obvious, and I'll admit that fact freely.  I've never been one to wave my white flag or give up easily, so when I'm told that the only way to truly heal is to surrender my life, my mind goes wild.  My chest immediately fills with pride and I feel the protective stone walls of my ego building higher and higher to block out the advice that I don't want to hear.  Yield, relent, back down, cave in, concede, acquiesce, fall, resign... these are words that I naturally fight against on a daily basis.  These are also the very verbs that I need to learn from in order to take the next step forward.  The third step is to make the decision to turn my will and my life over to the care of God as I understand Him.  It took me four years to work past this step, but the funny thing is that I never even knew that I was stuck on this part until after I was finally able to work it.  I remember the first time that my rehab counselor looked at the group and explained that in step three we would have to rely on our Higher Power, the God of our understanding.  Upon hearing those words I immediately stopped listening, thinking that step wasn't for me.  I live in the bible belt; I've gone to church three times a week for my entire life.  I thought to myself, "I already know who God is; I don't need to work this step."  But years later when I still struggled with my guilt complex and realized that I was still wrestling with the same old crap, I suddenly knew that I NEVER actually knew who God was.  I had never worked that step because I had no idea what it meant to trust the God OF MY UNDERSTANDING.  I had been missing those key words the entire time.  I thought that the God that my preacher had told me about was actually my God, but hell fire and the threat of eternal damnation hadn't helped my addiction or depression or self-esteem.  What I really needed was to find MY God, the way that I understood Him, in the way that made ME feel loved.  There is no way that any one person can teach about their God, how they perceive Him (or Her), and expect it to be true for EVERYONE listening.  As a child I was told a lot of stories that didn't seem to make sense, and they didn't particularly make me feel safe the way they were intended to.  But now that I am older I can decide what I believe and which parts are true to me.  Religion is NOT what my God is about, it in fact has absolutely nothing to do with my Higher Power.  Spirituality is everything.  The God of my understanding is in me and around me and flows through every living thing on this planet.  THAT is something that I can relax into and maybe decide to surrender to.  I don't have to be perfect (in the way that religious leaders think perfection to be), but I know that I am perfectly made in the balance of nature and energy.  I don't need an all-knowing being to judge every mistake I make and require me to throw myself into penance hoping for forgiveness and a fresh start.  What I need is the God who knows that when I decide to ask for forgiveness for something that I need only to ask myself, because my God never did stop loving me for that awful thing that happened, I did.  I am not interested in rules, requirements, or commands, but I desperately seek the approval of the one spiritual being who never loses respect for me, for I am everything that I was created to be.  Once I am able to search within myself and find how I TRULY feel loved and who I feel humbled to worship, then I feel comfortable in surrendering myself.  It's an honor to bow my head in reverence to the spiritual being that I DO understand, that DOES love me, and that I KNOW I can trust.  And really, that's all this step truly requires.
What are you surrendering to?

"The 12 Steps and Goddess Spirituality"
- Kelly Palmer

10 Lies I Still Believe

       Tree rings form through time, like years of life, weathering the storms and withstanding the elements that beat down upon its branches.  Each new year that passes leaves a ring within the soul of that tree that carries the imprint of its existence for eternity.  A year without rain leaves behind a ring thin and sickly, while a favorable growing season leaves behind a thick and rich ring.  The inside of the tree trunk cannot be seen until the tree is cut in half, revealing the scars and stories of each year of its life.  It is easy to see where the tree suffered in its surroundings and where it flourished through a season.  We too, through each season of life, carry the imprints of our struggles and graces upon our souls.  We are born a blank canvas and with each year that passes we emotionally grow a little and become weak, or we grow largely and heartily.  But grow we must and it doesn't stop.  And when our weather is bad we can wither on the inside.  Take a trans-section of your heart and you can see every part of love and pain, every time you were hurt.  What's harder to do is to look inside of ourselves and realize that a lot of our pain and stormy weather stemmed from lies.  People have lied to you, they have lied to me, and we have believed them.  When we were too loud or too wild people told us things about ourselves to make us easier for them to deal with, and we took that upon ourselves as truth.  Each experience that we've had in our lives is what makes us who we are; each tree ring makes a whole tree.  We listen to other people make us smaller and water us down until we can be deemed acceptable and appropriate, until we forget that we are wonderful the way we are.  We forget to treat ourselves the way that we would treat someone that we love.  If I pay attention to the way that I doubt and second-guess myself it's easy to see which lies from other people that I have believed, and still do believe, though I try to fight against the fear.  I will try to recognize the untruths that have held me down for so long and empower myself by chanting my own powerful mantras in reassurance of my own strength and beauty.

Lie 1. Don't air your dirty laundry - The biggest problem that I find with being raised as a polite young lady is that we are taught not to talk about bad things.  When bad things happen we keep them quiet and when people do wrong things we ignore it.  We should be learning the opposite of that.  If something bad happens to us we need to speak up immediately!  And if someone does something wrong we should definitely say something.  A loving relationship, whether within the family, among friends, or within the confines of self-love, tells us that we should always stand up for what we know is right and good.  I will not make myself seem more appropriate for your pleasure.  I am allowed to feel unhappy, especially if I am unhappy with the person in front of me.

Lie 2. You're not that kind of girl - I am whatever kind of girl I want to be.  If that's a good girl, then I will do morally good things.  Having natural and normal relations does not make me any "kind" of girl.

Lie 3. You should wear your hair down - I was told this a lot in school, to the point where I began thinking about what other people thought of my looks when I got ready in the mornings.  So I wore my hair down to please the people who needed that of me, only for other people to tell me that they liked my hair up better.  I will wear my hair, and my clothes, and my EVERYTHING exactly the way I want to.

Lie 4. You've changed - That's okay.  Change is good.  But I have found that, while this feels like a hurtful statement for someone to make about you at the time, the only people who usually use this statement do so because you're not giving them what they want.  That's okay.

Lie 5. You're no fun - So shoot me.  We all want to be the fun friend and have people rally to our sides because they like to be around us.  But I will not compromise myself, my morals, or my wants and needs to make you happy with me.  I do not need your approval that badly.

Lie 6. You look good, but... - Stop.  Just stop.  Don't judge me, don't compare me, don't tell me how I should change myself.  I am me.  I am perfect.  I don't need to be different.  I don't need more make-up or nicer clothes or even to brush my hair.  I am myself, and that's all I need to be.

Lie 7. Ladies don't act like that - I am a lady, anatomically and mentally.  However I act, whether I'm cussing or yelling or burping or playing football, HOWEVER I ACT I am still a lady.  I do not have to be any certain way to define my gender.

Lie 8. Don't be selfish - Let's just be selfish sometimes.  We get so lost in being not selfish that we forget to take care of ourselves.  I'm a mother, giving all day and all night.  Giving my time, energy, money, body, patience, my everything.  Sometimes I need to just stop and take care of myself.  Only then can I continue to lovingly and wholeheartedly care for my loved ones.  And once again, I have found that many people who say these words say it as means of manipulation for personal gain.  I will keep my boundaries, lovingly.

Lie 9. You're a handful - I will not water myself down.  I will not make myself small enough to fit into the boxes that other people want to squeeze me into.  When we are children people tell us these things and we feel that we are hard to handle.  I have grown into an apologetic adult who feels guilty for being true to myself because other people may not like the unadulterated me.  I am afraid that I cannot keep a partner, or that I will drive my loved ones away if I show people exactly who I am.  I can't do that anymore.  If they love me, we will coexist and we will handle each other.  How else can we truly love someone?  How can we love someone if we don't know who they are?  How can we love someone 100% if they only show us 75%?

Lie 10. You're too sensitive - I will not apologize for feeling.  The people of planet earth would greatly benefit from feeling their feelings, thinking about them honestly, working through them, and then sharing those thoughts and that healing process with others.  I am sensitive.  I feel.  I am MEANT to feel.  That was a gift given to me divinely.

       People lie to us our whole lives.  They may not even know that they are lying to us to make themselves feel better, to keep their own feelings safe.  People may not realize how much of an impact their words and actions affect the people around them.  I have scarred tree rings surrounding my heart from the hurtful fear of others, and I no doubt have withered other people through my own insecurity as well.  I will begin to treat myself at the standard of care that I want others to treat me.  I will not compromise, and I will continue to flourish and to grow.  I will recognize the pain in others and try my best to nourish their roots, and I will allow them to rest in the shade of my branches while I breathe in the pain around me and breathe out understanding and love.
What lies do you believe?

“Peel me back.  I don't want anyone to fall in love with whatever pretty lie that they may find above.  No.  I need someone to look beyond my flesh and see beneath my bones, and to fall in love with the beauty and filth of the raw mess that they find inside.  So peel me back and see just how beautiful my tragedy can be.”
- Becca Lee

Ode To Mittens

       My cat is missing.  She has been gone now for quite some time, but I still find myself calling her name at the back door before bed each night.  I still catch my son walking to the shed after school each afternoon to check if any of her food has been eaten.  It seems silly maybe, to care so much about a missing cat when there's so much hatred and foul play in the world.  But I can't help it, she was mine.  A neighbor of mine found her as a small kitten wandering the woods behind their house.  She was no more than two pounds, her white and calico fur matted to her tiny body, her tail crooked halfway down from a break that healed incorrectly.  My neighbor brought her to me because she feared that her dogs would kill the poor little thing before she'd had a chance to grow into the cat that she was to become.  My son took to her instantly, carrying her around the house like a baby.  He fashioned a tiny bed for the kitten using his stuffed dog's toy bed and a blanket, and pushed it up against his own bed where he could reach his slight hand down at night and feel her warm fur.  Much to my amusement, he named the miniature cat Mittens, even though all of her legs and paws were white, much like she was NOT wearing mittens.  She slept in his room for the first few weeks, never having to use her own legs because he would carry her up and down the stairs to bed.  He fed her, played with her, and snuggled into her thick fur like she was his best friend in the whole world.  And she loved him too, playfully chasing his heels while he got ready for school and sharing his pillow when she tired of her own bed.  One early morning my son came running into my bedroom, panting and frantic, terror-filled tears dropping down his normally serene cheeks.  When I calmed him enough to make out his words I discovered that the kittens tail had fallen off at the point where it had been broken before.  A laugh suddenly burst from my chest at the thought of my dear son thinking that he had pulled his cats tail off.  I explained to my puppy-eyed boy that her tail would have fallen off anyways and that he had done nothing wrong.  He seemed to feel better, but I noticed that he moved her bed a little closer to the closet that night.  After a few surgeries on her tail she was as good as new, and she became quite bobcat-like as she aged.  Her belly and hips rounded out, her nails grew long and sharp, and her piercing green eyes seemed wise and knowing.  Three months ago I could count seven cats that happily chose us to care for them and give them homes.  Mittens was the only female, which worried me slightly at first, but I quickly noticed how the male cats seemed to take a wide berth to avoid her.  She had grown to be the sassiest and strongest cat in the yard.  A slap to the face was an expected occurrence for any poor male who got a little too close to Mittens' perfectly groomed coat.  She didn't worry herself with people very often, ignoring me when I called for her and coyly walking away with a sway of her nubbed tail.  But when my son bellowed for her she would react like a little kitten again.  I could see her cheeky facade drop away as she mewed to him and raced to reach her food bowl before he could get there to fill it.  Yes, Mittens was more than a cat.  She was a family member, a friend, a being with feelings and a soul, a memory.  The last time I remember seeing her was on a Thursday night.  I came into the kitchen after laying the baby down and looked through the window while I rinsed out his bottle.  Mittens was sitting primly, with her front paws perfectly together, beneath a beam of moonlight.  She seemed to be staring straight at me from across the yard.  I immediately felt a stabbing pain of sadness.  I was unsure of why, maybe I felt guilty that I did not invite her inside so late at night, or maybe something inside me knew that would be the last time I would ever look upon her sapient face.  I turned my gaze away from her ghostly form and continued with my nighttime routine, pushing her image from my brain.  By morning she was gone.  I have searched the woods behind the house, calling her name for hours and even braving the neighbors to ask if they'd seen her.  I still half expect to find her sleeping beneath a bush somewhere, ignoring my call like usual.  But the haunting fear that I could stumble upon her hurt or dead little body keeps me searching invariably and disturbs my sleep at night.  I need to know she's safe somewhere, not in pain or afraid.  Maybe this is the way of the world, but I can't help but feel that a part of my family is missing.  Mittens, I will keep vigil for your return, or await the day when I will meet your bodiless soul in the meadow where we will cross the Rainbow Bridge together.
Who are you missing?

"Until one has loved an animal, a part of one's soul remains unawakened."
- Anatole France

Primal Roots (Muladhara)

       Fight or flight, natural survival instincts, the need to feel safe, these are all basic human rights and visceral urges.  Safety seems like such a fundamental and common thing to feel, but forty percent of all adults suffer from anxiety disorders, only ten percent of which get effectual help.  Once more, we can look into ourselves and see the imbalance.  The imbalance with no particular cause or cure, just a person who is either overactive or underactive at their root.  Muladhara can be broken into two words: Mula, which means root, and Dhara, which translates from Sanskrit as support.  Located at the base of the spine, this energy center in the body is where we store our sense of safety and security throughout our earthly journey.  This is our foundation, our grounding place, the firm soil and stable base from which all of our other chakras stem and flow.  If this tender ground is uprooted then all of the branches and leaves above will shake and quiver from the instability of the movement.  The clearing of every chakra is important for happiness and the achievement of enlightenment, regardless of whether the pain stems from sexual trauma, feelings of not being good enough, a broken heart, a hidden voice, inability to trust, or disbelief in the divine, because all of these energy points are connected.  Think of your body as a spiritual energy conduit of the celestial.  The life force penetrates through the crown and must travel through each chakra before exiting  at the root, meaning that a root issue can back up into an entire body problem.  A solid bedrock provides us the stability needed to create a home filled with joy and the banishment of anxiety, fear, and nightmares.  Grounding, also called earthing, is a way to plug our physical bodies into the spiritual earth and balance out our energy.  Nervous disorders abound with an overactive Muladhara because it is our survival center, our animal nature, our instinctual responses, our fearful need to continue to exist.  Fear is healthy for survival in some cases, but a balance is always needed for peace.  Sometimes, especially for survivors, it's difficult to trust that the world will give us what we need in order to endure, but connection to our higher self and trusting in a power greater than ourselves can help us feel safe.  Whether you call it Consciousness, Mother Nature, God, The Great Spirit, or your Higher Power, trust in the divine the way that a deer trusts that she will find food and watch as your stability and peace begin to grow.  The energy of the root allows us to harness our inner courage, resourcefulness, and the will to survive when we are going through tough times, but this base chakra also carries our ancestral memories, connecting us with the spiritual challenges and triumphs of our predecessors.  Memories of war, famine, disease, natural disasters, and abuse are all imprinted and passed down through the generations, weaving painful patterns and fearful framework.  When unbalanced there may be more problems to arise than just panic disorders and trust issues, this divergence can lead to physical troubles like eating disorders, bladder and elimination issues, back and leg pain, and ovarian cysts.  Basic needs such as food, water, shelter, and physical safety are not the only things needed to be happy in life; our emotional needs must also be met.  We must learn to let go of fear and focus our spiritual connections by nurturing the soul and meditating on our spirit guides.  As we pursue the bonding of our human experience with the earths energy we can relax as we begin to worry less, feel peace, and develop a sense of accomplishment.  People will notice how we begin to reach out to others through acts of kindness and compassion once we feel safe on the inside.  We are all animals fighting that basic instinct to survive, but even the animals know that they are a part of the earth and that there is no need to worry.  We must eat when we are hungry, sleep when we are tired, and flow with the energy of the world as if harmony could keep us centered to the core of all that is.  I will tell myself that I am deeply rooted, that I am safe, that I have a right to be here, that I stand for my values and my truth and for justice, that I have what I need, and that I am here standing on my own two feet.  I will nurture my body with exercise and relaxation, be open to new possibilities, and trust in the goodness of life.  I must be grateful for the challenges that help me grow and transform.  I must make choices that are good for me, and I must trust myself.  I must love life.
What's your primal root roaring for?

The Chakra Series