Raining in Hell


“We take birth as humans, because we have karma which is our clingings of mind. As the Tao says, ‘the truth waits for eyes unclouded by longing.’ So that we don’t hear the truth fully, we only hear the projections of our own desires. So again and again we make decisions that end up not being in the deepest harmony with the way of things. The art of growth has to do with how quickly you admit error and start making decisions that are arising out of the fullness of the wisdom of things.” - Ram Dass

What if it began to rain in hell? If the waters of our tears brought relieve to not only dry lands never touched or explored but to the flames of judgement and abuse? When the opening and healing starts, whether in heartbreak, grief or a new opportunity and love that will dredge up everything unlike it–there is no where safe to go except into the arms of the Beloved where we learn there is shelter and a different kind of fire.

A fire of forgiveness.

We are the brides between Earth and Heaven. Spirit and matter. Holy and Hell. All mixed together guiding us to the ways our wounds can take us to what really matters. Being unapologetically yourself, will include the humility that comes from asking for forgiveness, while knowing deep down you are already forgiven.

This life will stretch you to show you what you are worth, and how worthy this life is of our worship. How natural it is to give generously, but that it takes work to wake up to your true pure heart. That Love gives us the cuts and it the medicine that heals them.

The way the wind loves branches and the leaves on the trees with a tender caress and in a hurricane can crack and tear them down. One way to work with this wild love and with the nature desire for it is through our wounds.

Today let’s heal and delve into the world of the father wound.

The father wound creates the kind of suffering that carries us straight to the gates of our own misery, and holds no mercy. Whether your dad is on a pedestal or dead in a ditch, we have all been conditioned to some degree to need that which can never really be given.

The only thing to do is to find the waters that are ALIVE with love in your heart. The waves of grief and sorrow. The undercurrent of rage and depression, meanness and overwhelming ecstasy. The only thing to do with the father wound, is to keep showing up in the world with your gifts, against what you believe about how unworthy you are, and let God show you how what you have to share has very little to do with you.

When weshow up and you surrender, which happens naturally when in great pain, we open up the floodgates of Love to carry this ship to the shores of a pure heart that always was and always will be. The Holy Ghost breeze that comes at dawn after the shipwreck came and went. Destroying what you once thought would save your life.

I never felt super welcomed growing up in Catholic Church to join the lineage of Christ, or saw many examples or affirmations of God’s word lives in the hearts of those around me. I did have this memory of staring at him hanging from the cross on the alter, bored with the service but wondering what the hell happened. What was He thinking and feeling? What did Jesus and God really want us to know. I found no answers only lies that pulled me further away from what I eventually came to know as the Truth.

Catching glimpses of the devotion and intensity that infused the teachings that everyone else seemed to be missing, sitting in the stale atmosphere of Most Holy Redeemer in the suburbs of New Jersey. You would think with a name like that there would be some wild healing going down. ANd perhaps there was of course, but definitely not anywhere in my sight.

There was no mention according to my memory of what was actually spoken …”blissful are those who surrender to God, for the council of heaven is within them.'“ I didn’t even hear the word bliss never mind experience it until I was in my twenties and found yoga. And never mind the way women were so obviously an after thought in the participation, ironic given how our breasts swell with the nurturing love of divinity.

After being forced to recite the Lord’s prayer with my Father who never felt loved and used holy water as his ticket into heaven (I think it worked btw), hearing my grandmother Josephine praying the Hail Mary across her rosary beads but never allowing herself to move past the fears of being left again (first by her father and then her husband), it has taken years to prepare this vessel to open to Jesus again. The Father had to come to me spontaneously in nature, taking me to my knees in a sweet surrender I had been waiting for all my life for me to feel safe enough to trust such a force of protection and Love that would never leave me.

In the bible they say God has placed eternity in your heart, and yet no one has been tempted to go in there and find out? What does the eternity in your heart say about how to live, how to love? How tense does the boundless love in you get when threatened, when rejected and how do you return home to the heart. To be in the world but not of it, like my chiropractor ironically quoted today about being such a sensitive vessel.

From Mirabai Starr’s new book ‘Wild Mercy’ …
”I carry a torch in one hand and a bucket of water

in the other:

With these things I am going to set fire to Heaven

And put out the flames of Hell

So that voyagers to God can rip the veis

And see the real goal.” - Rabia of Basra

Love does not come without a cost. Love will bring up everything unlike it. Love will make you blind and then spit holy water in your eyes until you start to see how the trees too are like men. Perhaps with this new vision you may even start to hug them, hump them, cry on their soil and feel how they too have a heartbeat.

The path of the feminine is wondrously wide and we get easily lost. This is why it is dangerous. Most ways religion is shared is a narrow street that creates safety which is awesome, but also creates narrow mindedness that swallows up the Grace of God and leads to so much destruction and more darkness with no solution.

Because ALL must be LOVED and will be in its own time. There is a season for all things, the sweet nectar from the fruits of the trees your eyes will come to see, will satisfy you like no other. This is the sovereign, abundant, honest and very real life feminine path to God. One that acknowledges the suffering as the seeds and the potent power of desire, before it turns into the addiction of relationships and outer satisfactions, as pure and true Love. One that we all need a little help re-connecting with.

All wounds can lead to the wonderment of the ever flowing well that is available to all. For now, only some learn how to drink the medicine of emptiness and the passion that is found in our pure affections for what was, what is and all that we could never imagine that will be.

Divine Mother, Heavenly Father help me fill this black hole in my heart with your love. Give me the strength I need to show up for others with kindness and generosity. Help me awaken to the Living Waters of my soul so I can better serve you. Ignite my humility and take away this pain. I promise to do my best to follow where you lead, and stay honest where I fall short and make mistakes. With you I know all is forgiven already always. Thank you God for this dark night and for this gorgeously radiant day.