The Humanness of the Holy



There is an ideal of sterilized spirituality that permeates a large subset of the ‘spiritual’ community. It is one where in the search for the ‘higher-level' experience, the connection to humanity and compassion for the inner-most complexities of the human experience are forgotten. In this practice—intentional or not—those who do not fit into the mold of the ideal are shunned.


Two days ago, in the process of navigating the weight of enormous grief, profound fear and isolation, someone reached out to me, clearly feeling *something* in my world. Without an understanding of what I was experiencing or why, she offered what I felt to be intrusive unsolicited advice that compounded the wounds I was feeling through. My initial response was curt, bordering on rudeness that I felt the need to apologize for and explain the next day.


I was short with her because the advice to “Hold the vibration of ease & grace send the request for the right doors to open & for your path to be clear. Call on your favorite Ascended Master to help with cutting through the BS” is the antithesis, for me, of working through emotional healing, a more eloquent way of bypassing the pain roiled within.


I met her suggestion that “You are powerful & can shift the energy but you must remember who you are [with queen emojis]” with a silent inner explosion of, ‘How *dare* you think I’ve forgotten who I am when you haven’t the fucking foggiest!’


What I said was in my note of explanation was this:

"My response was unnecessarily curt and I apologize for that. However, I felt intruded upon by unsolicited advice that came without an understanding of, or offer to understand, my situation. You had no way to know that your suggestion that I ‘hold the vibration of ease and grace’ came while I was actively suicidal. However, you also didn’t ask questions before telling me what to do. You were clearly well-meaning and coming from a loving place but to me, in the moment, it came from a place of assumption and privilege that dismissed real pain, profound fear and the inability for basic needs to be met.


Your response to me is why I do not open to people. The assumption that I have somehow forgotten that I am The Messenger, God’s Voice returned in the form of The Mother, was inappropriate. I have known who I am for over 10 years and have lived with that mantel and its responsibilities with every breath. You don’t know my prayers, my heart, my conversations with God or the actuality of this journey—in the moment or through the breadth of it. The judgment inherent in telling anyone that they need to do something like ‘hold a vibration’ of or for anything other than what they are in, especially while in the midst of grave turmoil, causes more harm. It made me ferociously angry and emphasized the loneliness I experience. It cast further doubt on my capacity to have healthy relationships with other breathing humans and created more distance than I have the energy to recover from.


Again, I appreciate you reaching out yesterday initially but that waned quickly. In the future, for me or anyone else, the most important thing you can say is: “How can I help?” or, the most simple and most easily forgotten, “I love you.”"


Her initial response to me was: “It wasn’t advice” and when I followed by asking for information so I could understand where she was coming from, I was met with this:

“In my wildest thoughts you being suicidal didn’t exist. I thought very differently of you; frankly I’m rather dumbfounded. What was meant to be a prayer for you to have a higher level experience was lost. I’ll not make that mistake again. Wishing you only the best. May God help you.”



And in that one moment, I was dismissed without the blessing or real prayerfulness that is created in the space of loving kindness and compassion for the journey that is humanness. And that in which the holy is expressed in each of us.


I’ve written several times over the past ten years about my awkward and decidedly ungraceful dance with chronic suicidality that began when I was merely four years old. I’ve also written many times about my conversations with God, the awareness of who I was created to be—through these human experiences to meet other humans where they are, in the thick of the messy, entirely unsterile, dirty world where all things Spirit and humanity meet.


Several months ago, a follower on this page, in her frustration with me, hollered as one does in the virtual, typewritten world, “You ARE Her.” And, at the time, I was not. We don’t get to choose when we Become. We are Made by The Maker in Her time, not ours. All things have moved me through processes that have never been before.


I have known who I am for just over 11 years. It wasn’t until I became fully embodied, though, about two and a half months ago that I, indeed, became Her. And I became in this way, through the full spectrum of human experience. Mine happens to have been built on a foundation that includes prior diagnoses of PTSD, depression and, for many, many years. chronic suicidality. I had not had the full-blown expression of *that* since February 2019 and thought then, that finally, finally after all this time, my systems had grown past it. However, in the headiness of events of the 5th, parts of my brain and body felt that in death I would find safety. And, I was honest with someone I thought could lovingly respond.


It never dawned on me, in this day and age, that my struggling through mental illness like other humans would lead someone to think less of me. God helps me every day; we converse directly with some frequency. Those ‘Ascended Masters’ that exist in the imaginations as ‘fixers of life’s BS’ are those who walk dogs with me, hold my head as energies break through bodily structures, guide me through the underground places where others can’t go and remind me of the blessing I have and the blessing I am. That does not change my nervous system's hardwiring or the trajectory that God and others have created for this iteration of The Messenger.


I've also never had someone call their prayer--for me or anyone else a mistake—because I (or we) suddenly didn’t fit a convenient or comfortable narrative of the Holy. The very nature of our Being, in each iteration, has been outside the boundaries of what is comfortable or offers an easy way to remain in complacency. It is a reminder that God or *any* definition of Holiness is not ‘Ascended’ beyond where we are right now. It is, we are, not elsewhere. There. Is. No. Separation. That we continue to divide ourselves away from all the expressions of God—be it one with a suicidal nature, be it woman and girl, the brown ones who we idolize when dead but remove from eyesight and foresight when alive, or the nature of nature as we continue to manipulate it and ourselves to save Her.


The desire to kill myself dissipated hours before I responded to the woman who inspired this post. It may or may not return again. It is not the full measure of me or anyone but an aspect of how many, MANY of us experience the world. It does not diminish my relationships with God or gods, with devas and the destitute, Ancestors and others. It does not remove me from my roles, identities or realign my hearted-way away from my heart. It makes me part of the human expression of all things Holy, of all things hearted. It is a reminder that part of that human expression of all things Created is our easy dismissal of uncomfortable aspects of humanness and holiness.


Another iteration of me once said, “If it exists, it exists in the presence of God.” I added later, “All of Creation exists as the expression of Creator’s meaning.” It is within that presence and meaning when each are expressed and express ourselves-and the Creator-in the most loving ways. We can choose to do so without separating ourselves from each other with expectations of how another should appear or dismissing one because they don’t fit the idealization we want to keep us comfortable.

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