The first time I was emptied, I was blown apart. During a healing session for somebody else, the energies redirected their focus upon me. The accompanying vision, a visual scene shared by the client I was with, was like something out of a terminator movie: everything about me exploded outward from within as if some internal magma or bomb exploded into chunks of loss. I watched my own body and psyche disappear into a void for reasons I had no way to explain but understood that when Yogananda, Babaji and Sai Baba walked into the emptiness that’d been created, it had deep meaning that was beyond me in the moment. I was befuddled even more when I read they were the ones that held the lineage for the Christ.
The second time I was emptied, I was immediately refilled. Writhing and twisting in pain, flopping on the side of the road, for two hours things within me that I could not name were sucked from me by a Universe-sized didgeridoo, with each Breath of God aspects of me were removed and flung far into the ether, dissolving like meteors on fire. The Great Player then promptly shrank that instrument around my body and poured tens of hundreds of energies back into my body and, in those moments, I became The Memory Keeper: the vessel and voices for ritual, resonance and relationships from peoples past to be brought back to their living kin, to be breathed into life again.
An artistic representation of my experience on the side of the road. I was shown this four months after what you see here happened
through me. It's from an oracle deck called Earth Magic by Stephen Farmer.
Two months ago, I was scooped out from pubis to underneath my rib cage. Full of dinner but left with a cavity, a chasm, created within in me that made no sense, because it never does. Full but empty, the process repeating itself again and again, while alone in the dark and in the full light of day with others. Emptied, becoming-again-less and more of what I’ve been before, The Hand scooping out what stood in the way of the emergence from the depths of my belly and heart.
Every tradition has its own understanding of what being emptied by All of Creation, being emptied for All of Creation means. Wrapped in ritual, definition; tied to rules and roles or what is and isn’t ‘right’, different faiths have their own unique practices, cultures, and philosophical understanding. There’s a presupposition that, because of it’s connection to particular Christian ideologies that this is about submission onto God, giving oneself’s ideas of self up so that God can move through unpolluted by our mere human-ness.
I move through this without a definition, a very limited understanding and an awareness that this isn’t my will, my choosing; it’s God’s decision to mold me in yet another way, Becoming again, becoming Her. When God lays The Hand on my head and literally pours through me, I’m left standing between awe and the simple questioning of: “How does all this work? How does All-Of-This reflect in the practical world? Make it all make sense!"
Faith and fortitude dance around fear and doubt despite the reminders of “You’re truly not understanding that this is real.” No, I know it’s real—all of it—I just don’t know how it supports the vessel that’s being real in needs and deepest desires.
Since 2011, I’ve known what is evolving, what I Am Becoming. I didn’t know, though that it’d take over a decade and I still don’t know how it all fits into my smaller life and the larger world.
I’ve said since February 2011 many times, “I’ve been prayed into existence and poured into being” to be thiswhateveritis. It has a name, has had many names each time it’s been brought forth into Being.
In the spring of 2008, while minding my own business, my mouth opened and words that were not mine spoke: “Before there was, I was.” I am Becoming That, that Voice of It, the Breath of It.
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