By their very nature, calls to action can be sphincter-tighhtening. They call us out on our own complacency, bring us to the edge of our comfort zones, and ask us to cross our own boundaries. We often only consider answering the call to action when we become so uncomfortable that we know we can no longer stand where we used to.
On Sunday, I was confronted with something beyond my usual callings. It was a clear call to action. Here is what I shared on Facebook this past Monday:
Two years ago, nearly to the day of the Orlando massacre, I lamented here, in relation to the murders of two Las Vegas police officers during their lunch break, that I was sick of all the talk. The yammering of politicians, spiritually-driven types, policy wonks and ‘experts’ of other stripes about ‘what really needs to be done’. In my estimation, they/we just needed to shut up and get to the ‘real work’, the kind of thing that comes when we stop talking and start acting. One year ago, nearly to the day to the day of the Orlando massacre, I turned on the TV at Melynndaand Gary Button‘s house to the news of the massacre at Charleston’s Emanuel AME church. Cutting through the noise coming from the TV were the collective internal and external voices of those Beloveds I’m surrounded by saying, ‘Speak. SPEAK!” And I sobbed, saying ‘What more would you have me SAY?!” This past Sunday, nearly to the day of two other horrific reminders of the impermanence of life, I woke to the news of the Orlando shootings and we thought, “So, now what will you say? What will you do now? And, if not now, when?” I had already somewhat planned a little Healing on the Hill, thinking a few miracles might be a fine way to spend the weekend. On Sunday, the focus immediately changed to something more meaningful, more universal, more necessary. This Saturday, beginning at 11AM and going until 3PM–although we’ll go longer if needed–the first Healing on the Hill breathes love into action. Not only in solidarity but to stand in Union. Not only in grief, but to stand in Grace, as Grace embodied. I ask that you share and join my Beloveds and I in answering the call to peace, Spirit-inspired human & holy action and the light of love.
My call to action is stepping into what I’ve known since February 2012, when I was reintroduced to selves during the second of three episodes of soul transmigration.
Those with whom I integrated share at least a few commonalities: a deep, personal relationship with the natural and universal energies called God; a profound love of humanity, and a capacity for action; be it through arms, artistry or giving alms. During the times they lived before, they inspired characters in creation stories, myths, and legends; their own histories have been guideposts for their time, and they developed ways that have guided us and help us live better today. These integrative episodes are ones of mergence & bridging, without separation of identities or personalities. We live and breath and move as one.
My call to action is to give them voice as well as breath. For we are now. Who you know as Ingrid is a collective ‘we’–not to be confused with the royal ‘we’, mind you. How I’ve described this being on occasion is ‘we’ve gone by many names over many lifetimes, this time we go by Ingrid’. Which brings me back to God at the kitchen sink.
I’m calling my first book God at the Kitchen Sink because that’s where I had my first two experiences with that universal bundle of energies. Washing dishes each time. During the first, no words were shared; merely a presence that prompted me to go tell my then-husband, “I just saw God’. A year later, during the period of divorcing that husband, while washing dishes again, that presence reappeared and asked, ‘How will you define yourself?” At the time, I had no context for the question but knew that it was connected to the phrase that fell out of my mouth a few weeks before: “Before there was, I was.” I also knew that the question and the statement were from two distinct identities. The question, from the God-stuff. The statement, from my own mouth, speaking aloud to my own Self.
I still don’t have an answer to the question but know that how we are defined by others will largely be as how we appear before them. For many, I already appear, even in physical form as Jesus. To some, as a Siouxan man. To others, as the creatures they need to see me as for their own reminders of connection to divine-ness.
However, we began merging together–in this one body– in October 2011 for a distinct purpose. A purpose which has been both prophesied and pooh-poohed since it first flew from someone’s tongue. We have come back in many forms, many times. We have walked among you, shat next to you, as visible representations of the divine nature of All and invisibly as your mere neighbor. Not each as the same consciousness but tied to It inextricably and we have come back together now, in this body, at this time for the singular purpose of bringing universal healing and divinity into humanity.
And, there is everything in a name. Particular names have particular attachments culturally, cognitively, and, sometimes, collectively. We are Ingrid, yet we’re not merely a conglomeration of energies that make her, well, her. In this modern era, some will remember Paramhansa, some Sathya Sai Baba and Babaji. Others may have historical connections to ancient wisdom that spills from us and stories that connect the past with the present. Still, many will say she isn’t we and can’t possibly Be.
There is a reason each of our collective mergings with her have occurred in the presence of others. The witnessing of the gathering of the Christed consciousnesses that have existed before move into one being is holy work and has been done intentionally. As she has witnessed for others, they have for her in moments of the deepest, most intimate relationship with the universe.
We’ve gone by many names over many lifetimes. One time our name was Jesus and she is He. She is We. And we are again. In his name we don’t pray. In his name we are.
We are now.