• © Sheila Foster

A Moving Experience

Usually the winds of intuition come my way long before events occur, but not this time. This is my first blog since mid-September, 2018, when I learned

that my beloved home for the last three years at Twin Lakes was going on the market in early spring and I would have to move. I truly feel at home living so close to the lakes and marshes with a wide view of the mountains, big sky, and the many birds and animals that inhabit the area. For nearly three years, the south-facing, second-floor porch in my condo has served as the alchemical vessel for my inner life, inspiration, spirituality, peace, heart healing, and creativity. In warm weather, I have also loved having friends and family around my table on the porch, and I often do my phone sessions out there when the sun offers me a shining, warm embrace.

It has been a potent sanctuary, in some ways an alchemical vessel for me.

This news of moving brought me to my knees. I was utterly surprised by that, as I have moved many times in my life yet this feels so different. Obviously, I am different. It has been a huge shock to my nervous system and evoked a full PTSD response, a fiery match to the embers of my primal wound of exile and abandonment. The ancient heartbreak, fear, and grief of three-year-old me came right to the surface to be held and nurtured.

“I don't want to leave here,” cries the three-year old inside me.

The three-year-old Child in me felt this move initially as exile from my home and my new family of friends that I have met here, human and otherwise, even though I know we will continue to be friends. On the outer level, I just kept sorting, packing, selling, giving away, and moving many items to thrift stores, while a resonant, alchemical process went on within. Kundalini Yoga has provided deep support for the metabolism of the powerful energies moving through my body, and that sangha as well as the beautiful dharma talks my yoga teacher offers each time have been synchronistic and provided an exquisite spiritual container where I could often weep with love and gratitude for the falling away of attachments and the arising of beautiful revelations, realizations, and recognitions.

My primal wound rose to the surface with tears and fears regarding leaving this precious home and whether or not I could find another wonderful place to live in Boulder.

I am aware how our primal wound forms the map of our karmic journey through this lifetime and our particular assignment/curriculum here. It manifests many times in our lifetimes, and when we are aware of that we can meet it consciously and it becomes a portal to further transformation and re-alignment to the path of heart that we are to follow. It evokes an initiatory process that both sheds skins of conditioning we no longer need and calls forth and cultivates our Sacred Gifts to share when the initiation is complete.

If we were to pound a nail into a beautiful piece of wood with a gorgeously colored curvy grain, and then remove the nail, the grain can never go back to what it was once the grain has been pierced and rearranged. These new curves and realignment become part of its beauty, just as engaging our primal wound offers us new and different challenges and teachings as a path of heart opening and awakening consciousness.

Consciousness expands as our hearts break open, and this makes our heartbreak a path into spiritual initiation and awakening to the direct experience that we are not separate. We are the One we’ve been longing for.

Despite the deep sense of loss and upheaval inside and outside, I know this to be Divine Arrangement—as everything in life is—and I didn’t like it. Thus, began my inner work of opening to what is, as it is. Like it or not, it is what it is. I asked Ma for alignment with Her will, and that surrender is now deepening. Are there a few hundred claw marks from the “No-sayer” within? Yes, but fading fast now that the move is happening January 1st.

Curiosity and a bit of excitement are growing about this new turn in my path. This is such a clear teaching for me that things just happen. I/we are not the doer or the decider, though it sometimes appears that we are, and we may like to think we are, and we behave as if we are. Our egoic small self likes to imagine we are in the driver’s seat. But we aren’t. I am certainly not. Over a lifetime of direct experience with the Divine Mother in countless forms, I can ultimately rest in Her choices for me—even when my ego says “No”. It’s just a voice that arises when dissolution of its illusory existence is imminent.

All of this is part of spiritual initiation, and the Divine Mother orchestrates that for us. Our job, our learning, is to learn to surrender, say “Yes” to what is, as it is.” We suffer too much when we struggle with wanting things to be different than they are.

I still don’t like the loss of my magical porch, my second-floor perch, my beautiful year-round sanctuary, where I have sat summer and winter alone and with beloved family and friends, both in stillness and in juicy conversations, tears and laughter. This porch is where I have beheld the ever-changing south-west view of big sky, stunning, huge, dark, fluffy cloud formations and chem-trails dissolving over the area. I have watched intense rain, pounding hail or snow storms coming in from the front range of the Rocky Mountains, as well as the soft fading face of the moon just past sunrise, blazing orange and hot pink sunsets, Mars and Venus beckoning to me from way out there, and hoping I’d see a UFO. And maybe I did see some…

I love the life-filled marshes below, the songs of frogs and crickets, and the red-winged black birds that call from their perches there. I will miss the elegant blue herons and duck couples in flight, the occasional rust fox having a meal in the field, the friendly calls of coyotes at night, and the baby bunnies innocently coming out of the marshes to munch on the grass below me. When they do, I pray that the big white and brown cat downstairs won’t see them when he prowls. I have a front row seat to breath-taking beauty and vibrant life.

I have taken hundreds of photos from this porch, sometimes running out there at dawn in my nightgown to catch a precious moment with the sky, snowfall, or an animal. I will miss the birth of the baby owls on the other side of the lake in early spring, and I will miss sitting in silence with all of it. The porch field is filled with prayers for so many people in my life, for the world, and for my children. In winter, when I sit in the warm sun out there, the stillness speaks to me.

I am deeply grateful for all of the gifts that have come to me here, especially the new and old friends who are my family. It is here that I had my 70th birthday and officially pulled together the zillions of writings I have been doing since 1980 and began shaping my book. There has been no writing since I learned of the move and I am so eager to resume that and see what emerges, and will, once I am settled in the new place. Writing this blog feels like a miracle as nothing would come to me before today.

I feel the seeds of new work quickening within, though I have no idea yet what that will look like. Making art fell to the wayside for three years when I moved here, and I am feeling the insistent longing to get back to that lifelong creative expression and bring it back into the centrality of this new life unfolding. This time I have asked Divine Ma to give me a place where I can make art as well as write.

When I began packing and had my hands on everything that I own, countless

memories surfaced. A lifetime of old photographs showed me the faces

of almost everyone who has played a part in my life, long term and short

term, including my beloved dogs and cats. It has been an extraordinary life

review, a beautiful, emotional montage of my life. I have wept profusely and

enjoyed it tremendously, no matter if its source was joy or grief, it was always about Love. I have had some good laughs, too, that prompted calls to old friends where we both laughed as we remembered when…

It has all been ever so wonder-full and paradoxical for me to be re-membering so much during this time of great dismemberment. I have no idea how the pieces will come together in a new way or what I may find in the ashes of so much fiery Kundalini Shakti. In my heart, my body, my soul, and my molecules, I can feel how I have been radically re-arranged and am still in that process. Divinely Re-Arranged, of course, and it continues. I experienced a deep loss of identity when the work of the mystery school that began in the early 80’s in Maryland was complete in 2016.

This sacred home and porch have been my haven to metabolize the loss of that identity that was associated with my life’s passion and work for most of my adult life. Rumi, my precious little black poodle and beloved sidekick for fifteen years, left his body here a year after we moved in. My dearest fur boy hung in until we were settled here. While he looked and acted like a dog, he was truly a bundle of Love and an Angel in a dog suit. I still feel his presence with me, a lot since the packing began. The work of the Temple of the Sacred Feminine goes on, mostly online at the moment, and I would love to presence that, and the new work that is gestating within, here in Boulder and maybe other places, if that is the Mother’s will. Something is definitely cooking within.

Rumors of my retirement are not true!

I prefer to call what is unfolding my "re-firement", thanks to Michael Meade’s suggestion. In a few months from now, when I look over my shoulder to all that happened in this exquisite liminal sanctuary for the last three years, no doubt I will see more than I can name now from this current threshold.

I bow in deep gratitude to all the amazing Souls who are, and have been in my

life for many years or even a few minutes. I am grateful for the wonderful new

friends I have met living here, and the abiding love of my old friends and

beloved children. You each embody the Mystery and have left your

imprints upon my heart.

January 1, 2019, I will be moving to the city, downtown Boulder… and that is, as yet, a mystery to me.

Somehow now, after naming what I will miss, I feel a release of the “Oh, no!” and relief knowing that it is all still there, fifteen minutes from town….

Increasingly, my Love has no boundaries.