Friday, September 25th, 2015

I love the warm ocean.

I go there whenever I can, slip my body into the water, and ride the waves.  I am fearless with them.  I can intuit when I can catch them and when I need to dive beneath them.  I am not fearless because I am merely brave or reckless, or because I don’t realize the ocean’s power.  I simply feel the waves and they teach me how to surrender.  Even though I have been thrown mercilessly to the ocean’s floor and come up coughing with water inside me, I feel safe with the waves.  They speak to my body, and my body understands.

And perhaps I trust the waves because I know if they wrap me up in their hands and wring me out and throw me down, I know even if they break me, they are doing it for a reason.  They are healing me then too, even if it doesn’t seem that way.  I know they are ultimately setting me free, somehow.

I say this even though I have been crushed under so many waves in the past year that I’ve learned not to rely on oxygen anymore.  Not the waves in the warm ocean.  The waves of the lovely infections in my blood, in my tissues, in my bones.  Why do I call them lovely even though by all accounts they seem only to have tormented me, and my one true love?  Because they, like any of the waves of their kind we may face in life, are there to somehow just set me even more free.  I don’t even need to know how.

Perhaps it seems like for me it is easy.  Easy, because of my deep perspective, for me to weather an unceasing storm.  To bravely and humbly drag my limp and battered body to the shore every day and lay there praying for the strength to stand up, but having to remain unattached to that outcome as well.  To have well-meaning passers-by on the beach lean your way and tell you to, “just breathe” and not be able to explain that you are a master of breathing.  You know when to breathe and how deeply as well as the ocean knows how to make waves.  You know when to breathe fully and when to catch the glimmer of air and then hold your breath for what seems like an impossible age.  You want to explain that you are near to living on prana, and still connected to nirvana, despite it all.  But most times you cannot speak.  You are lost in the one solace of warm sand against your cheek and a place to rest your ribs against the ground.

My name is Jennifer Posada, and I am an Oracle…with Lyme Disease.  I have been powerfully psychic since I was a tiny tot, know how to engage in what might be called miraculous spontaneous healing energies, and remember many, many of my past lives and my purpose in this one.  I remember all the way back to the timeless, to before matter existed.  I know how, even in the midst of this serious illness, to access levels of ecstasy and realization that stagger me anew each time.  I can commune, at will, with all of creation, and easily tap into the orgasmic field of energy at any time.  I also happen to be experiencing a reality that involves a mind-numbing level of pain and debilitation at times, on a daily basis.

Is this some kind of fluke, you might wonder.  Shouldn’t being more aware in those ways and connected to the endless healing power of love that resides within and within all things just magically dispel every darkness and end every pain?  In a one word answer…no.  To imagine this is the case would be to think that pain is a mistake, rather than a medicine.  It would be to think that suffering is less evolved than joy, when suffering is actually the secret underground path to something even more profound and wondrous than what we might call joy.  Pain is always ultimately taking you someplace more breathtaking than you every imagined.  Pain is the secret friend.

Pardon my french, but it is okay if you want to tell me to fuck off right now.  If pain doesn’t feel like your friend and if it doesn’t feel empowering to pretend you agree.  You don’t have to.  I am just telling my story of how I became a mermaid again, part-human part-fish, and while still in the very worst of it.

I am not in pain wanting to be healed.  I am in pain and I am healed.  One day the pain will go, but now as then I am fully realized.  And you are too.

I have talked about it before…the story of the luminous Goddess Innana.  She had everything.  She was queen of heaven and earth.  She had every golden gift she could have wanted.  But she shed everything, of her own volition, and gave up her life to visit the cold and ruthless Underworld, in order to be reborn and fully queen of that land within her as well.  We are told to keep looking toward the light, and there is a time when that is paramount, but some of us look the other way, or life turns our head toward the darkest path and the greatest freedom that lies beyond it…and within it.

I know, you also might be thinking, when are we free from learning through suffering?  What does that say about the universe that we have to learn by being dragged along behind horses sometimes?  To that I would say, first of all, that we are not being taught a lesson like unruly school children.  We are being dropped in the wilderness of every lost moment we have ever had on our soul journey, and being given the gift of feeling our way out.  If it feels never-ending that shows how dedicated to being thorough your soul really is.

My soul is very thorough.  Isis was very thorough too, and Innana, and Mary Magdalen.  When Isis wailed at the loss of Osiris while roaming the shores of the Nile, pulling out her hair and losing her teeth, looking sickly and extremely aged and wailing and no one wanted to be with their former queen, she was no less holy, no less wise or beautiful or evolved than she was when she sat like a glowy and picturesque beauty upon the throne.  We are often quick to label something as ugly that might just save our souls.  After all, it was that true experience of her deep feelings to their furthest extent, when it felt right to do so, that gave her the magical alchemy to bring Osiris back to life.

Wherever you are right now, it isn’t less.  Even if you want things to change in your life, which is sacred too, wherever you are is perfect.  You crafted it to make you a master alchemist like Isis…to bring out your magic at all costs, and ultimately with all rewards.  I too have more deep-sweet honey magic coming out of me every day.  One day, not too long from now, my pain will go.  But the gifts will remain.  And yours will too.

I haven’t been to the warm ocean in almost two years, but I can already feel the sun on my skin.  My new skin.  The skin that emerged after all the shedding of all the skins that needed to be let go.  That day when I go back to slip my body into the waves will be a triumph, but no more so than today…foggy minded and sore at the computer, but full of light.  I glow now too.  And I wouldn’t change anything about that glow.  It is the seed glow deep under the earth, that is responsible for all the glory of the fruits.

I share these words in honor of the dark places, and the warm waves, and my secret friend.  In honor of every ounce of suffering I have known in this lifetime, and every bit of resplendent joy, and the rightful place of both that in their depths are one.  I share them in honor of your perfect journey, whether glowing on your throne in golden light or hobbling down your hallway in sweatpants.  You are starlight either way.

Love,

Jennifer

If you love this writing, hop on my email list to receive every new post!

Also, if you love this writing, you will adore my courses…see them here!

p.s.  Want to help me heal from Lyme?  You can support my Orgasmic Woman Project here (and get great rewards) or just offer directly to my healing fund, if you are touched and inspired to, here.  Want to read more about my journey with Lyme or healing suggestions for Lyme and chronic illness?  Click here…