A ‘Higher Self Perspective’ ~ dreaming new ways and means of being

Gentle journeys back home

Can we be vulnerable and open and keep ourselves safe at the same time?

Talk about those invisible, inconclusive things that tear away at us? Let’s have little a sweep..

(Just a note — if you just want the practical little ritual activity feel free skip to the end— if you like winding journeys and introductions you can read on).

In 2016 I embarked on a journey backwards and inwards — taking a year long yoga teacher training which taught me so much — about sharing, and about being, about living heart-to-heart. Eight years ago now but time is a fickle, intangible thing, expanding and contracting with the various levels of attention we pay to this life as it moves.

I was in my own kind of underworld, but could see, from deep down there, a little slivering of light. For even in the darkest of moments, something beautiful remains. A shimmering dream or beam.

The way is not always straightforward. We are seeing a societal, universal, cosmic collective shifting towards non-linear ways of being and living. There are passages underground, seeds folded within ourselves, deep dark pits and burrows to lose ourselves in. To hibernate and hold ourselves.

There are ways of healing that work for one being and not the other.

A wise being once said ‘be not afraid’ - and yet sometimes we are jaw dropped and clenching and encapsulated by awe, like this moo-cow.

We have many names for these dark underground holes — black holes that suck you in, depression, anxiety, and a crippling fear of being watched. Safety and insecurity are subjective experiences.

We can follow thoughts, like trains, deeper into these underworlds until eventually we must come up for air.

As an artist it is my responsibility to share my work openly and trust. The same for writing, though writing, I often feel, is an even more direct experience. No frills, just words, and it can be so so personal.

This is the core, I think, to make art based on Hope, butterflies, safety and love. To learn through doing, explorations. It’s actually quite vulnerable to make art, to share words. And recently I’ve had an unfortunate situation around trust and sharing and openness, only to have that very trust and understanding shattered and broken and mishandled. It’s a fickle world, and not everything is as it appears.

Situations like these remind me that sometimes, being open is a kind of freedom — other times it can entrench us, making us even more vulnerable. That not everything we see on the surface is real, that we can’t trust anyone and everyone as much as we’d love to. That glitter is not in fact gold, and things are not always as they would appear to the eye.

We all know this, but I am find myself constantly having to be reminded.

The human heart is not blind to these things. Better to trust our guts, sometimes, our instincts.

I think I’m still in the dark, sometimes it’s sort of grey, sometimes beautifully light, but always looking up. We are experiencing a societal shift that shakes the ground beneath our feet. As if there are earthquakes under our skin asking to make sense of it, to keep creating nonetheless.

Not everything or everyone, as we know, is what it appears on ‘social media’. Of course we know this. But it can be easy to forget, because truth can be heartbreaking. We’d rather pretend we didn’t know but we can’t ignore.

It took me so long to find my way back from the clouds. But the gutter can be hard too. I often feel between the two, as though caught between two paths.

How do you like it down here in the gutter? Or are you more of a cloudy type?

Whilst I am on the theme of openness today, in this newsletter-void-universe, without knowing where it’ll end up or whether it shall be read, I just want to remind you (and me) that we have a voice and though I may not see you — I see you. You matter as much as the next person.

And I’m grateful for your presence.

Finally, here is a little activity I started practicing when I was on my journey up from the underground (both the wild one in the mind and the even wilder one in bustling London Town where I was born).

We all get down from time to time. It helps so much to talk it out with others, but it also helps to set up a little gentle reminder, a conversation, a sort of ‘higher perspective’ talking-to ourselves. As if we are being told off but we are not — for this is our highest self talking to us, who is firmer and gentler and wiser and kinder.

Circling back to my yoga teacher training, it was something I came across that year and began practicing, maybe not every day, but often enough to see a difference.

A practice of remembering, of softness, of seeing past the ordinary into something more uplifting. I have shared it in communal gatherings over the years but wanted to share it in written form here, in case anyone may find it useful. We are all different!

It begins here, with you.

If you are in a place where there is enough space to see - try to imagine yourself in the future. Older, wiser. How do you live? How does it feel, on the inside? Are you well? If there is a lot of noise around you - find a quiet corner, perhaps in nature, and sit. 

Sitting and watching, you begin to feel. Where is your breath? Is it soft or are you holding. 

What about your jaw, are you clenching? The space between your eyebrows? What about your hands? Stretch them wide. 

Do it everyday. 

Close your eyes and imagine from the perspective of your highest Self - the one that is already whole, fresh, forgiven. You are brand new.

I am not saying this is the remedy, but I know it can help. Gentle rituals help. They add up.

You must give yourself time and space to ‘fix’ yourself. 

I like to think of it like this: if it is broken - do not fix it. Give it space, and time. Let it heal.

As always I am so grateful for your time and reading. If you like this post I hope you will consider subscribing to my newsletter, there are both free and paid options.

Grá mór