I am earth. I live in this physical body. I walk a physical place. The water, fruit, bread, and meat I swallow each day grounds me here, now.
And yet, perhaps not.
Years on from writing the opening words of being only earth’s child, I understand I am also the connection between earth and heaven. I am spirit created in material form, and I am the spark that gives light to both earth and sky.
This is true for every one of us.
We are the spark and connection between heaven and earth. We are the lightning bolt that flashes and flies, creating light and heat for all to see and be warmed by.
I am sure I knew this when I was born, having just come from the light and onto the earth. I am equally sure as I grew up this understanding faded. The heaviness of the earth shadowed the light in me. Living here does that sometimes too soon, too often, too harshly.
Living here has me turning the truth on its head. As a child, I am taught I am two things, a body with a spirit inhabiting it. I am taught this is the truth, and the world always tells me the truth.
Sometimes I should not believe what the world tells me.
I am one thing, not two things or four things. I have a body and spirit and heart and mind. I not only have these things, I am these things, but they are not separate. I am not meant to be divided into parts. I am meant to be one whole being, light aligned and in harmony.
I am spirit in material form. My body is created from spirit, and my spirit is my body. That includes my heart and mind as well. All one.
I not only think the truth of this. I feel the truth of this. The words come like music to my body’s senses, and they feel balanced, smooth. They move through my heart and don’t stutter or jar me. They move through my mind, blend into my thoughts, feel recognized and comfortable.
Spirit in material form. These words fit like a jigsaw puzzle piece finding its home, nestling into the pieces all around it, making the image whole.
This is how I know truth. By the feel of it in my body, how it fits into me and makes me whole. Spirit in material form. This means as I am now, I am created from both earth and heaven.
Something in me never lost this knowing, even when my light was shadowed.
In my studio I have a collection of stones and feathers. I have been gathering them for their beauty in my eyes and their feel in my hand since I was two years old. I construct still life arrangements from them, and draw their magic and beauty onto the paper on my easel. They are placed around my home, in every room, on shelves, table tops, windowsills, for the eye and hand to enjoy.
Stone and feather. Earth and heaven. I have never forgotten. All my life I have been collecting reminders of who I am. The light remains within me, no matter how I divide and separate and shadow who I am.
My feet rest on the earth. My fingertips brush heaven. All my life Source has been quietly placing stone and feather in my path to remind me, and I have seen and accepted them, picked them up and taken them home, these pieces of myself.
I choose this. This is my truth. I am spirit in material form. Body, mind, heart, spirit. One whole being of light connecting heaven and earth.
I stand with my son and husband in the centre of an empty street. No other people. No cars. No sound. All is still.
I look down. A raven stands beside me.
I look up. I see ravens sitting on the top edges of the one-storey buildings and on the fences. They walk on the sidewalks and in the street where I stand.
I lift my arms. I see feathers, black, sleek, shining. I see wings.
I am me and I am Raven.
Here in my waking life, I hear raven voices every day. Ravens live in the tallest firs and cedars near both my studios. I see them fly overhead, hear the edges of their wings cut the air. Nothing else sounds like a raven’s wing.
This past summer I watched them teach their young what wings can do. Watched the young discover joy in their power. Watched them fall in love with their wings.
When I falter in my drawing or writing, I imagine myself as Raven. Creator and Healer. Trickster. Teacher. Messenger. Raven is all magic. Raven is pure power.
Imagining Raven, I open creation, call word and image, and invite them to play. My wings cut through fear and hesitation, shatter them like the ice they are.
My Raven eyes see forever. See what has not been seen.
Imagining Raven, I reach into magic. I take nothing and create something. I breathe it real.
Imagining Raven’s power, I move back into my own power to create. I stand steady in the joy of who I am. I fall in love all over again with what I can do.
Artists, writers, all creators are Raven. We have the power to create, to heal and make whole, to trick and tease, to communicate and teach. We see what has not been seen, and make it visible. We create something where there was nothing.
We are joy’s magic, and we are the power of love.
In this post:
If I pay attention, my dreams teach me. When animal guides show up, I go to the book Medicine Cards, written by Jamie Sams and David Carson, published by St. Martin’s Press, NY, 1999. The book is accompanied by a deck of animal medicine cards illustrated with the drawings of Angela Werneke. Book and cards were a Christmas gift from my husband, ten years ago, after I told him animals were appearing in my dreams. http://jamiesamsbooks.com/medicinecards.cfm