Yesterday, I stepped through a doorway—the door back to myself.
I celebrated my birthday last week with some of the most conscious and dedicated people I’ve been blessed to meet. Since that evening, I have experienced nothing but unfolding.
I am journeying to and forgiving places in myself that have hidden away for so long, I had forgotten they existed.
Pain, trauma, judgement, fear of the past, have all come bubbling up to the surface, as I have been carried in the arms of, not only my community, but the graces of God and Goddess, to shed away all that cannot stand in the light of the power I am claiming.
After spiraling out, expanding more, trusting more, surrendering more and more of myself over to Love and Pleasure, I found myself so expanded that I could not find my center. Faith, Rest, and Integration, were calling me back—beckoning me to push my comfort zones.
You see, I am comfortable pushing through the emotional and spiritual barriers. I am comfortable facing the shadow to see what’s there and intellectually process it. I am comfortable with the darkness that afflicts my head and my heart. But, what about my physical vessel, my body, my “home?” What about the home that I move around in each and every day, always with me—literally taking me wherever I go?
I am finding that within my body is where true integration gets to happen. Spirituality and emotional tools are wonderful, but I am finding that they are just toys unless they are anchored into the physical realm…this reality.
So I took my morning Savasana pose to come back to myself.
I visualized pulling all my energy back into my body, scanning from head to toe where there might be any energy leaks, pain, attachments, holes, and chords. I knew the time had come to cut all of the chords, without discernment, as Spirit reassured me that any of the threads that were meant to reconnect…would!
I called upon the Sacred Phoenix and the Python to come into my heart, and help me close any doors that no longer served me, and to help me see which doors in the hallway of choices before me would serve my highest purpose.
Then I went into the mountains.
As I started up the mountain, 40 pounds of baby and carrier on my back, my mind and my heart raced. I wanted so desperately to be distracted by my phone, to reach out and share every profound thought that surfaced, to talk about it or process it, rather than just be with it, rather than just be with myself. So, as each foot took another step, with each breath deepening into my belly, I repeated my mantra:
“Come home to yourself.”
And with each step, each mantra, I felt my heart opening in a different way than before. Instead of expanding open to reach out, it expanded to simply allow and receive. My heart was also opening to just be.
No action required—the natural ebb and flow of love’s tides were enough on their own. In that moment, I began to unravel why my relationships with women were easier than with men. My heart is comfortable in the masculine role of giving and reaching. My heart has rarely been held in space to just relax, to surrender, to trust, to be. I was giving myself permission to fully embrace my feminine energy—all of it. Not just the sexy and sweet parts.
I reached my first threshold quickly—the place I stopped last time I came up this trail—and easily kept pushing past. I reached my second threshold a little while later, remembering the time I was stopped here by the snow and grateful that there was nothing holding me back this time. My body was tired but I wanted to keep walking home.
With my headphones on, and the trail narrowing, I felt relief when I reached a shady stretch. “Spirit’s shuffle” was controlling my playlist and the perfect “yoga-dub” song came on. Suddenly, I was prowling through the forest like a mountain lion, noticing each movement, the scents in the passing breeze, feeling into the trees with all my senses, desiring to crouch low to the earth as my primal connection felt ignited.
I had returned home. I was fully present in my body and tuned in to what I desire. In that moment, I desired to be one with the Mother, and I thanked this great Earth for wrapping me so deeply into her heart that I could feel it beating as my own.
When the shade broke, I found myself at a bridge with 20 or so orange butterflies. As I crossed the bridge, I was met by the same number of small blue ones. The magic in the air was palpable! I shivered from head to toe, and breathed in gratitude for what I was witnessing on the stream’s edge. When my prayerful moment was over, I turned back to the path.
I found hundreds of butterflies ahead of me. Tiny blue ones, orange ones, and white ones were dancing and playing around the path. When I stepped up to the threshold where these playful spirits were pulsating their wings, I had to stop completely.
It felt like a gateway.
As my eyes wandered up the hill to take in the hundreds of beings in front of me, a black swallowtail landed at my feet and opened its wings, the pattern staring me in the eyes and not breaking gaze, not pulsing like all the other butterflies. Only female swallowtails are black, and this little feminine being radiated with inspiration, hinting messages of transformation, insight, strength, and power—while being equally delicate and vulnerable. I watched for several long moments before words came out of my mouth…
“Are you ready to embrace this transformation? Are you ready to step through the doorway?”
“Yes,” I answered myself, pushing past my comfort zone again.
I stepped through softly, as the wings kissed my skin and Grace wrapped me softly in her arms. I said thank you with each soft step I took until there were tears in my eyes.
At the top of the hill, I turned the corner of the path, and was greeted by a physical doorway; a tree had fallen, and was perfect height for me to reach up and touch the top of.
As I entered the doorway, Nahko whispered in my ears, “In this existence, I’ll stay persistent, and I’ll make a difference, and I will have lived it.”
And there I stood, at the threshold of my new self—a new level of dedication, a new life—elevated after peaks and valleys.
I walked through the doorway of my own heart, and the hearts of the spirits who carry me.
Author: Jodi Hill
Image: Author’s Own; Peter Hershey/Unsplash
Editor: Lieselle Davidson
Copy Editor: Sara Kärpänen
Social Editor: Travis May