grace & fire :: is alchemy.

I live in the Pacific Northwest.  It rains a lot.  It rains when we want it to not rain.  We wait for the time when the earth dries up and the sun heats the soil that heats the planted seeds.  Although we are teased along painfully, we are truly blessed.  Our gardens are mostly naturally irrigated, no need to pull in the life force from elsewhere.  But the waiting for damp wet time to be over and lie- down- on-the- ground- solar-time to begin can be infuriating.

I've been long versed in waking up to gratitude.  I am ingrained with the saying my mother has been uttering to me since I could remember: It is what it is, give thanks. 

But this past week I didn’t want to just give thanks.  I didn’t want to accept it.  I wanted to change it, to practice alchemy, to add my fire to the forces that Be.  

I screamed fuck you rain and fuck you everything else that was saturating me, the tsunami of situations that have been drowning my days {no this isn’t really about the rain}.

I exploded with anger.  I demanded to be seen. Fire came from my tongue and my fingers and my heart.

And it felt really good.

There is a place for the grateful, for the surrender.  It certainly feels nice when we get this.  But what about when it doesn’t feel nice?  What about when your entire body aches for something else?

There are ancient forces of transformation that must not extinct in our era of warrior *versus* peacekeeper. We all need to balance that line.  Sometimes being a force to reckon with is the most direct route to birthing peace.

Don’t hesitate to honor the Kali force.  We know she lives in each of us.  She doesn't surrender to what is.  She is active. What is :: is Her.   Her wild black force of fire destroys, her rage, heavy foot and breath of smoke remove what is in the way so the Way can be Seen.

My mother also used to say, kill them with kindess. And sometimes my purposeful fire is the kindest thing I can possibly share.

Give thanks.  And then explode with healing solar flares.  Give thanks and then go outside and scream fuck off to the rain, or the snow or the unforgiving heat of the desert sunlight.  Scream out loud your distaste for poverty or greed or your lack of creative living or being unseen or un-heard.  Scream in your loudest voice how fed up you are with the way things are. Write down a story so god awful about what is so that it can finally be done and gone, burned up, offered out.  Over and Next.

And then after, give thanks again.  Bow down in gratitude.  And know you are creating a pile of ash to rise from.  It's all part in shifting the worlds.

As grace makes the path for our transmutation, we need to burn down the leftover bramble, the overgrown weeds.  When we walk with clear vision, we can experience gratitude on a deep level; it won’t even be a choice, it will be a life.

This is alchemy.  This is magic.  It all is.

{One thing: in release, no hurting anybody at all, it’s about raw emotions, not cutting at someone else’s spirit.  Trust me, I’ve learned the hard way}