The Land of Milk and Honey is Within

Messages from the Bee Priestesses

Monday, March 18th, 2013

Thank you life, for putting honey underneath every shameful shadow in my heart, so that I would know I was doing the right thing when I found its sweetness…

Jennifer Posada, from “Three Pomegranate Seeds”

It’s about to happen.  A miracle right in front of me.  Oh, I’ve known about it for months.  I just went outside and saw for myself the readiness, the coming…I’m ready.

Maybe most people wouldn’t consider it a miracle, or even notice it at all.  They wouldn’t see the brilliant flash of hot pink bliss that takes my breath away.  They wouldn’t feel the exploding joy of life rushing through them as the fresh tenderness unfolded before them.  But I do.  I know the secrets of the ancients and the enlightened ones…I remember when they weren’t secrets, and I want them to be secrets no more…

So I am going to share with you the secret of life, and I am going to open this secret with the example of the miracle of my peach tree.  The blazing streak of wild loveliness that marks and alarms the sky and surrounding trees with its beauty.  It makes us, me and the sky and the woods, speechless, and runs hot sunshine through our blood.  It cleans our hearts and lights our minds on fire, and I want to invite you into that world…that land of milk and honey within you.

Oh I am quite sure you have had glimpses, or maybe have even visited that land often…but like Alice or Dorothy, you may not know how to go back and visit your wonderland at will, or how to spend your life there…especially if it seems so very different, or even at odds, with this world.  The world most people still share, and believe to be the only one, when really we are changing and reshaping the world into something entirely new with our desires, our dreams, and our bodies.  Or, I should say, with coming to know once again the pleasure of our bodies.  It was left behind long ago, this real knowing as the heart of living, but it is the one essential ingredient to really experiencing and understanding love while embodied, to feeling connected to the larger love of the universe, to communing with the deepest self and the earth, to knowing joy.

Before we go any further I want you to know that I am not just going to fill this writing with fluff about the joy of the body and leave those of you who feel totally alienated from the joy of your bodies floundering with no useful ideas for how to find it.  I am going to give you the secrets I promised, right here from my staggering, deep-currented, ages-old heart.  Remembering further back than time’s beginning has many benefits, and I am going to keep spending the rest of my life sharing them with everyone who will listen.  It’s what I came here for.  It’s why I held out and held on for so unbelievably long to the remembering, carrying it and protecting it like an unbroken thread…so I could reconnect it with the spark in your heart and spread the fire of knowing again…so that I could tug on it and pull the ancient beauty we once knew and lived right here into now.  It’s made me damned good at remembering, despite what my eyes show me or how the world has changed, and therefore good at helping you to keep remembering too.  As we remember, who and what we truly are (love) and our mighty and truly divine power, we will watch the world around us come to match it again.  That is the effect of what I call in my book, The Oracle Within, “The Great Remembering.”

So, we begin with my peach tree.  It’s very small and unimposing, and just at the back corner of my yard.  You could almost miss it.  But for just about a week every spring when it blossoms, and lights up the world.  With it’s flaming hot pink blooms spilling from its small graceful branches, I am quite sure you can see it from space, glowing with a fierce beauty that defies gravity, that defies rationality, that defies reason.  It is quite simply, magic.  But it happens so fast, that if I didn’t know the secrets of the universe, I might just totally miss it.  We have become so rushed, so hurried and our plates are so full…and even more powerfully than that, we have been so taught not to see the magic within or around us that we just don’t feel anymore, don’t make time to experience anymore, or to be embodied.

Embodiment became scary a long time ago, when it was sometimes-unofficially but very forcefully outlawed.  It had to be.  It was the only way to shut down the most powerful force in the universe here on earth and usurp control of the human race…to force out the pleasure of the body and its attendant inherent knowing of one’s own power and truth.  It was the only way to topple the absolute self-love and self-reverence that come from it too, which was the essence of perpetual love remembered and everywhere.  It was the only way for those who wished for false power to stand a chance.  But that is old news.  False power is crumbling all around us and the world is finally ready for the cracked-wide-open realness we dream of in our deepest, most buried soul’s longings.

I want to tell you now about the deeper reason my peach tree’s hot pink blossoms mean so much.  Once upon a time magical beings lived on the earth, and some of those such creatures were the nymphs.  They were all-knowing, all-seeing, and what we would consider to be enlightened masters of the highest order.  But they didn’t sit in caves in the lotus position contemplating the universe and avoiding the “temptations” of the body, oh all to the contrary, they made an art of succumbing to them instead.  You were more likely to see them rolling in the moss or reveling in the springs…quaking when the lightning struck and undulating with the ocean’s waves.  They knew existence to be what we would consider to be various states of orgasm, and they experienced this ongoing enlightenment by being attuned to their own bodies, their needs and desires, one another, and nature.  Most did have many lovers, but they weren’t indiscriminate.  In fact, you couldn’t even enter the physical area of a nymph if your own energies and intentions were not aligned enough to resonate to a high enough degree.  You literally couldn’t get near them without their energetic consent.  One had to be able to rise to meet them in some way, and then they would open the wonders of the universe to you.

And that is the power of what even one being who can allow themselves to truly find and know the pleasure of embodiment does for everyone and everything around them, whether the change is observable and instant or not.  And that also shows you just how powerfully being pleasurably embodied can change what you experience and draw into your life.

The trick, of course, is how to get to pleasurable embodiment when nothing much reflects or supports it in your life yet.  (Or how to get to another level of it when you have plateaued or back-slid a bit…)

To tell you about how to get there I’d like to now introduce the Bee Priestesses.  The original Bee Priestesses were nymphs, later followed by human women in their lineage (or bloodlines.)  Like other nymphs, these Bee Nymphs knew the ecstasy of embodiment…and just happened to love experiencing it in two special ways…with buzzing, and honey.  Like their bee friends, they too could feel the vibration of life pulsing through them, and actually create a physical buzz in their entire bodies, a buzz which manifested vast reservoirs of healing energy and sent them into galactic levels of oceanic bliss.  The transcendence created was beyond our wildest dreams, but not beyond our wildest, deepest soul memories.  We too have known this bliss.  As if the buzzing weren’t enough, the Bee Nymphs and Priestesses to follow could also enter profound, revelatory, earth-shaking states of ecstasy by ingesting various highly-alchemical forms of honey.  They lived in the true land of milk and honey.  The true garden of eden.  And they could eat whatever fruit they wanted.  Nothing was forbidden to them, for they knew their own bodies and came from the place of true love.  There was only endless creation, and beauty.

While I could go on, even fill books, with my thoughts and memories on this and their ever-unfolding meaningfulness, I’m going to come around to what you can take from this that will serve you right now, today, and for the rest of your life.  It all has to do with the honey.  The real honey is not about alchemical bees and long-lost healing flowers they fed from, and it wasn’t even about that then.  It is about the sweetness.  Something that has been relegated to candies and cheesy, saccharin greeting card sentiments.  Something that has been dethroned, belittled and cheapened.  Something that has had its power thwarted and hidden, a treasure only for the most steadfast and brave to find.  A treasure that lives inside my peach tree, but not just there…

It’s in every flower that opens its fearless marvel and unconquerable light to the world.  It’s in my cat rolling over to let me touch his belly right now next to me on the sofa, and purring completely uninhibitedly when I do.  It’s in the shot of blue outside my window in an otherwise hazy sky.  It’s in the promise of spring, the pulse of my heart, my sometimes stunted then suddenly flowing breath right now…it’s in whatever tiniest moments of joy we can find, or contentment, or comfort.  And we can find those moments, even if they are just soft punctuations at first in a sea of pain, even if we have no money for extra niceties, even if we have almost no time.  The truth is, if we can learn to recognize the sweetness in our lives, and let it in, and let our bodies really feel it too, our entire lives will ultimately change, and then the entire world around us.  But we can’t just allow it once, or once in a while.  We have to be diligent and courageous…we have to really ask ourselves where the sweetness is for us, open in new ways, and really allow ourselves to taste it in a world where we have usually been taught, even perhaps brutally, to do anything but.

In fact, since anyone can claim five minutes to themselves in a day, I’d wager that the amount of joy we could experience in that amount of time, once we are practiced in the lost arts and true power of sweetness…once we have found the secret honey in our lives that is the long-sought holy grail of the path to pure truth and full awareness, five full minutes of the bliss we can experience might be almost too much to bear, and the resulting golden glow it would cast on the rest of our day each day of our life would be enough to cast our life with the kind of resplendence the nymphs knew, and carry us gently through the rougher passages of all the more challenging experiences and feelings in our life that are so honorably and crucially beautiful a part of our ever-burgeoning wholeness.

I know well that so much of what others would consider to be profound intuitive abilities has simply to do with being perceptive, and willing to open ourselves to feel when we perceive beauty, magic, or pleasure.  It is the power of my noticing the one week of hot pink beauty in my peach tree, and not missing it.  It’s in my willingness to, no matter what else is going on in my life, slip outside in my bare feet for the first time on the still-cold, slick earth and be there with it…to reach my fingertips up to meet the impossibly-soft blossoms’ petals and feel life flow through me like a river on fire.  We can all feel this way…it’s just a lost language.  The lost true language of the body…and the soul.  Oh yes, we once knew them as one, and we will again.

This spring, be fearless.  (Or if you are in the other hemisphere please do rock the autumn instead.)  Even if you think all the honey in your heart and life dried up so long ago that all you would find is the grey dust of sad losses and lost chances.  Even if you worry that you never had any to begin with, or that it will cheat you or hurt you in the end to hope, or open or try.  Even if you secretly obsess that you are the one person who will never know how to feel good in your body, or feel this good.  Somewhere inside you, muted as it has been for most of us, the buzz still rumbles the deepest chambers of your heart.  The place where you still want.  The place where you still burn.  The place where you would still give up all your constructed safeties for love, and where you still believe in your wildest dreams.  The place that never dies.

Oh yes, be fearless…find the smallest taste of honey somewhere in the scatter of your hours and days.  Find a pure moment all your own to just listen…to the wind, to the rain, to the rustle of leaves and the songs of birds.  To the empty places and the fullness, to what your heart says when it isn’t being pressed upon by the demands of living the way we live now.  Cherish those first signs of the inner spring, and welcome the milk and honey inside that follows.  And then, despite all the voices that try to remind you what happened last time you ate the apple, drink it all in anyway.  Because what comes after the blossoms, what they really promise, are the even sweeter fruits to come.  They remind me that if I wait, I will be in that same place months later, beneath my peach tree with juice running over my lips and fingers, filling me with bliss.  And if you find the blossoms of sweetness wherever you can in your days, you too will be guided toward the most exquisite rewards of your soul and life, and reminded that they will, indeed, come…

Love you, friend…see you under the peach tree…

Love, Jennifer