Strategies. I have gotten pretty good at refining ways to isolate myself, telling myself the story that I am busy to justify the mysterious behaviours of not wanting to be seen in order to feel safe, yet still wanting to stand in my own truth, witnessed and validated as the force of creation that I AM. Both truths duking it out , seeking compliance from the other. An on-going battle. This is yet another discovery of a powerful polarization now revealed that unconsciously has played out for most of my life. Another double bind made conscious.

I know the trigger for what I identify as wounding, so shields up is a familiar go-to. And that means isolate and hide; there are so many ways to run that strategy and tell myself that I am not. When it comes to behaviour and outcomes, rationalization through reason becomes a familiar and well worn cloak of avoidance, so I won’t have to let myself know. Way down inside, I hear some critic shouting, ‘No way! Do not let your guard down to feel that vulnerable again. You should know better, don’t ya know! NOT safe!’ How many times do I have to tell you?! So, the desire to BE and feel seen continues to go unfulfilled… and, yet, honouring that truth as a need is essential to feeling whole, unique and essential to my world.

Regardless of how cold it is out there and how much snow is still showing up where I live, I notice that the change in the angle of the sun shining is evidence that Spring is on its way. My last name is Winter, so you could think that I’d love the season. It is not that I don’t, it is just that there is so much ‘right’ with spring; with subtle warming, the beginning of longer days and the return of birds that have spent the bulk of the winter deep in the bush. I’ve got to admit, LOL, I have had some days when I wished I could join the Blue Jays away from the ever increasing noise of media and human complaint. Those Jays may be noisy at times, however they arrive with such beauty and solace of being. Their sound is organic. All of that, I think, is what most people are looking for.

I feel so fortunate to really grok just how all of this works in support of living my life according to what I personally hold as essential, meaningful and possible. That others choose differently does not require that I isolate - a counter-intuitive strategy to ‘play’ safe in the absence of truly feeling that way, inside where I live. WOW, how well and how long have I run THAT as a strategy to hide (keep safe) even though I was not being chased by a hungry bear, by way of example? However, I have been masterful at creating the illusion of that as real and true in my world. The invisible traps are everywhere… not to capture the hungry bears (THAT is the illusion)… but, instead, to capture the prey that are our minds that are intended to feed the bears (the illusion).

Truth is, I value my mind… and honouring THAT for me is worth segregating it from all influences that seek to control my thought. So, sometimes, segregation as an awakened decision will look like isolation, when, in truth, there is no isolation about it. Segregation of my mind - the quantum force-field that it is - for me, means fostering clarity and congruence inside, where I live. AND, that can come only from trusting the godForce that I AM. Living in this world and really trusting that I am not of it, takes courage to stand alone, again and again and again… clearly deciding to viscerally trust my KNOWING that I am never alone nor could I ever be.

Years ago, I was invited to officiate at the wedding of an MD, Dr. John Ryan. The spiritual connection I experienced with him and his partner was immediate. Dr. John had written and self-published a book, The Missing Pill, which he gifted me with. No longer in print, the book has been re-printed by a publisher, revised, and also translated into French; the book is now called, Unity Field Healing, Volume One. John began offering these energy medicine programs a few years ago. While two of my clients attended them, it was never the ‘right’ time for me. This past weekend it was.

I have known ‘things’ most of my life. If I had the language to speak it, so often I was reticent to express it. And, as often as I knew that reticence as a truth, it was as if I was being ’saved’ from expression when I had no language for what I have so deeply known.