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DM's from God

This morning I woke up to a text saying, "what you seek is LITERALLY obsessed with you."

I smiled. It's an upgrade from the classic, "what you seek is seeking you."

I rolled over, contemplating the possibility of this truth. Is $24,000 obsessed with me, like...literally? Ravenously, desperately weaving itself through the fractals of the cosmos to deposit itself into my bank account? I'd like to think so.

I closed my eyes, flashing back to last night.

I've been doing time with my altar. Currently, it's adorned with four encouraging tarot cards from my monthly reading, a check made out to me from the universe for $24,000, two candles, hape (ceremonial tobacco ashes) and its paraphernalia, a salt lamp, and a half-burned stick of palo santo.

It's my safest space. It's where I go to process, to understand what is happening in my life, to come home to myself, to melt into a puddle of tears, or persevere through the numbness, or beam with gratitude. Really - it's my space to feel, with real honesty, what I'm not ready to share with the world.

And I've been meditating - mostly at night when everyone's alseep.

It's just me and my altar, the silence of the stars, and the nearly inaudible flicker of the candles. Nothing to do, nowhere to go, no excuses for my ego to cling to. So I wait, and I listen. And slowly, I begin to melt through my own resistance and distractions, getting little flickers of delight as I near the rich ecstasy of the present moment. It takes a while because I am an expert at distracting myself, but as I begin to give up my futile resistance, I begin to receive all this unread mail that I was too busy and distracted to get to during the day.

It starts to feel like the most important thing in the world, as, one by one, I open my DM's from God. That's how it feels - like personalized, direct messages from source herself.

And then, everything starts to make sense. It's one epiphany after the next. Answers to questions I didn't know I had. A deep settling in my belly where I didn't realize it was tight. It feels like taking off a tight corset that all this time I thought were a part of me.

And I can breathe. And I remember how much my lungs like the taste of air. I hold at the top of my inhale, luxuriating in the feeling of being full. I exhale fully and hold my breath at the bottom. Bayha kumbhaka. I love the sensation of emptiness.

I start to feel my consciousness as something that is inhabiting this fleshy body and gaze in awe of how I can tell my hands and fingers to wiggle with my brain. How I get to experience life and all of its sensations through this body, this piece of Earth that was so generously loaned to me. I wrap my arms around myself and say "I love you" over and over.

I swear to remind myself to do this more - to sit agenda-less, empty, and patient, just to open my DM's. But even as I say it, I know that life will get life-y and I'll forget again tomorrow.

This is the practice, I realize. It's a balancing ACT - not static, but a continuous, intuitive dance left and right, forward and back. Sometimes we are meant to engage actively with life, and sometimes we need long stretches of time to integrate, assimilate, and digest our experiences. Even so, as I crawl into bed after all my gifts of insight and realization, I can't help but glow with the warmth of someone who knows some magical truth in the very center of her heart. No need to explain, just the DM's are enough.

Maybe that's what was seeking me all along, pounding down my door and clogging up my inbox with the most perfect divine messages that would give me the answers I didn't know I needed. Maybe my DM's are LITERALLY obsessed with me. I'd like to think so.



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