pricking the crusty scab over the wound in my heart…letting it bleed

I must…there is no alternative if I want to be an alive, pliable, feeling human being

a moment’s courage to stick the needle of my consciousness in

please, hold my hand, Greater Self

and it’s done.  see, it only hurt for a moment

~

ahhh, the relief of letting it flow

the cleansing tears, the exorcizing of little demons in the dark corners of my psyche

the ones that have held court, whispering lies into my ears,

stringing nets and springing traps

grabbed up by the rush of cleansing waters from the genuine soul

lifted by the torrent of feeling, they are exposed and expunged through the grand golden portal of my heart

poured out onto the stones at my feet where they flip and writhe

I feel awe and compassion as I watch them dissolve in the light of the sun

First published May 12-2009-

(February 4, 2010-I re-publish this piece I wrote last year now as it comes to my attention again and again that we can do horrible things to each other or buy in to outrageous belief systems because we are not connected to our feelings….it is our feelings that guide us, provide feedback to us about whether we are following a moral compass, let us know if we are off track. 

Case in point: the incredible lack of feeling response demonstrated by James Arthur Ray, wealth advocate and teacher, who said in an interview 2 years ago that the Holocaust “was a good thing”, after people were traumatized (and some even died) at an event he held in Sedona AZ in October 2009 .  He was arrested yesterday, and the outpouring of feeling from the public shows that this is an important thing to look at.   http://abcnews.go.com/gma/video/spiritual-guru-arrested-sweat-lodge-deaths-9744388&tab=9482931&section=1206825

I have long said that the worship of the mind, intellect and thought as king is a very imbalanced masculine quality playing out in our world.   Feeling requires us to be present in our human, fragile, animal bodies, and to find a way to courageously live with that temporary, precious nature that our physical existence has.  Feeling requires honesty, that we feel the hard stuff as well as the easy stuff.  Repression of feeling is denying our physical existence, wanting to run away or escape, wishing it were different than it is.  It could be said that feeling is a feminine quality, if we look at it as a “being still, accepting and receiving” practice.  Perhaps if we were to balance our minds with our feelings, our world would not be in the state that it is in today.)     

Published on liciaberry.com and Face Book under notes

I write this today in response to an email that I received in which a woman friend is processing feelings and looking for some answers.  She is not alone!  I include partial transcript from that email, as well as more thoughts to offer.

I know a whole lot of folks who are feeling emotions right now….and I think this is GOOD.  I am told that the “return” of the feminine looks like folks FEELING their feelings, not just talking about them or conceptualizing them or thinking “positive thoughts”.  Feeling is not logical in any way…it is the right side of the brain, it is the feminine way, it is the antithesis of putting things in a box so we can understand them.  It is soft, animal, messy, uncontrollable, heart, soul, dreams, and water….it is the balance of the way humanity has been living for 5000 years. 

I FEEL and am told that feeling is the next frontier in human consciousness and expansion/evolution.  I think the women will be leading the way to learn how to BE this feeling state that we are entering…at least the women who have not internalized patriarchy so much that they are “men in skirts”!  We will have to allow this feeling to BE us, then we will teach others, and then the world will truly change to that balanced state so many of us feel coming.

We are meant to feel…this is part of our design as human beings.  We have physical, mental, spiritual and EMOTIONAL capacities, all of which serve a purpose and have a very important function towards our being fully human. 

My experience shows me that the problems come in when we judge ourselves for what we are feeling, or that we are feeling at all. 

Once a woman called in to my radio show…she was a “Law of Attraction”-inspired coach in her day job, but she was calling in seeking some answers for a traumatic event in her life; her son committed suicide.  She was driving her self crazy trying to cope with this incredible, unnamable loss by “thinking positive thoughts” and looking for “spiritual” answers about it.  What I offered to her was swift and clear: “Honey, you need to allow yourself to grieve.”  She broke down on the air, and wrote to me several months later that the permission to FEEL that I had given her changed her life. 

If you are finding yourselves in tears more frequently lately or feeling a little chaotic on your insides, maybe even angry or depressed, I would offer to you not to think you are going crazy or that there is something wrong with you. 

I say all this to reflect to you that I FEEL you are right on track….and that I echo your experience of feelings being a very important expression of my humanity right now.  I am finding healing, understanding, self acceptance and incredible love as a result of my allowing myself to feel without judgment or conception…just FEELING.  And when I allow the feelings, no matter how uncomfortable or painful to move through me, I come out the other side wiser, cleansed, and feeling whole.  I’m so grateful!!!

First published on http://www.liciaberry.com   in May 2009

Copyright Licia Berry 2009

"The Life Giver", collage by Licia Berry 2006

“Whatever shines should be observed.” -19th-century astronomer William Herschel, discoverer of the planet Uranus

“All that sparkles does not shine.”- common proverb

I’ve been thinking and observing folks in my life lately, whether they are close by or far removed.  I notice that some folks “shine” and others don’t.  I have been observing my own pattern of being attracted or repelled by them, and trying to understand.

Some folks look shiny, but it is a fake shine…as if applied from the outside; a sort of veneer of what appears to be sparkle, but is more a thin layer of determination to appear powerful, beautiful or holy.  I remember watching my mother carefully apply her face make-up, a long ritual that built her up into believing that she was sexy and powerful.  Sometimes it worked…others would look at her and see the carefully applied illusion she wanted to create, despite what she was feeling inside. 

Sometimes I think shine is also applied by others on the outside who want to idolize the person, such as in the case of celebrities or gurus (or the pope?)  I observe that we can want to believe that another person is special (I find this to be true when we aren’t owning the specialness of ourselves), and project our own unclaimed shine onto the object of our attention.

Similarly, when I am identified in my own limited-ness, I can look at someone with the carefully applied shine, and be drawn to it because I think it is real and that they possess something that I don’t. 

But true shine comes from the inside; it’s that glow that seems to be coming through the pores of the skin and emanated out beyond the body, but can’t quite be identified by the physical eye.  For me, it is more a felt sense and can be seen if my intuitive eyes are open and free of filters. 

 What am I observing when I see true shine?  I feel it is the light that emanates from being “turned on”, the light that comes from life force coursing freely through us, the light from inside.  I know it when I see/feel it.  The presence of it is unmistakable, and it is pure joy to be in the presence of.

My feeling is that we probably have a good bit of this Divine emanation when we are little…and that many of us slowly cover up our inner light as we buy in to the illusions and lies that we are taught to believe about the realities of earth-living.  The greatest of which, in my experience, is that we are separate from Godde and therefore unworthy of Love.

Pain is a great teacher when one is conscious.  But it is a great “herder” if we are not; pain will drive us into pens and into corners, and in our effort to get away from it, we cut ourselves off from our larger Being.

My sense is that the more we forget our innate connection to the Divine Light, or life force that we traveled in on, the more closed off we become, the more in the dark we are, and the more lost from our original blueprint and purpose we get. 

I have seen folks who are almost black holes, their light is so far removed from sight.  Some of them are energy “vampires”, the ones who seek the life force of others because they are so far removed from their own.  Others feel like their density is so great that nothing could escape their heavy gravitational field.

I have also seen folks who talk a good game, act as if they are feeling the light, even acting as if they are speaking or teaching from that knowing, when in fact under the surface I feel them flailing about in search of their center.  They construct fantastic belief systems and philosophies that are nothing short of brilliant, in a mental way.  I feel compassion for these folks until they hurt others from this place of lost-ness…and then I know to avoid them.  

I have some beautiful people in my life who shine, not because they have it all figured out, but because they are genuinely seeking to be the most loving people they can be in the world, and are open in that state of not-knowing, paradoxically in the most knowing state we can be in.  They are at peace because they are aligned with their soul, and finding their way.  Their seeking is honest.  I like those people…I want to be around them because I trust them. 

In the end, it becomes my choice about how I will interact with the world, how much I will engage with light-filled or not-so-life-filled folks.  I find the ones that shine from the inside out to be the ones that I want to hang out with, as they, without effort or word, illicit my own inner light to shine forth.

Witch Power and Grandmother Nature

Like so many GOOD things that have been twisted, misinterpreted, and manipulated, the conclusion that I am coming to about the word “WITCH” is that it needs to be shed of its nasty connotations (at least in my own mind), and that the word needs to be reclaimed.

In the spirit of reclaiming, I invite you to play with me and create an acronym from the word “witch”…several of you have already offered some:

• Wisdom Intuition Transformation Compassion Healing -Peter
•  Woman’s Intuition Touching Communal Heart –Liza
•  Women Inspiring Truth Change + Harmony –Peter
•  Wisdom Interconnected Terra Caring Hope –Licia
•  Wonderful Intuitive Teacher Called Healer –M.

Let’s hear some more!

The town we used to live in, small as it was, had several churches.  There is a meeting of the spiritual leaders of those churches called the Pastoral Alliance.  And, as it goes in small towns, there is not a lot to talk about except for gossip. 

One of the more enlightened pastors of this group (who has since been fired from his position at his church and moved elsewhere) spoke to me quietly at a party about something that made me sit up and take notice.  Here was the conversation:

Licia: “I would really like to meet with other spiritual leaders in the community to exchange ideas and support one another.  It gets lonely sometimes to be one that folks come to for spiritual guidance.”

Cool Pastor: (squirming uncomfortably)

L:  “Is there any kind of support group or meeting of spiritual leaders here?”

CP: (falteringly) “Yessssss…”

L: (excited) “Oh, do you think I could come?!”

CP:  (sheepishly) “No, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

L:  (genuinely puzzled) “Why not?”

CP:  “Because the Pastoral Alliance is afraid of you.”

L:  “HUH?!  …Am I not the nicest person that you know?”

CP:  “Yes, you are a very nice person.  But they have had a meeting recently in which you were identified as a public enemy.”

L:  (kind of laughing, thinking it is a joke) “WHAT?!”

CP:  (looking very sad) “They have read some of your writing, and your beliefs are very threatening to their beliefs.  They feel that you are dangerous to their congregations.” 

L: (stunned) “Wow.”

CP:  “I’m sorry.”

L:  “What century is this again?”

I learned later that my children were taunted at school.  “Your mom is a witch.”  And not just by other children!  Not one person in that little town had the balls (or ovaries) to come say this to my face, but they sure were talking about it.

It’s made me think a lot since then.  What is a witch anyway?  I learned from my early Christian preschool conditioning and the Wizard of Oz that witches are bad, Bad, BAD. When I hear the word and me in the same sentence, my blood runs cold.  But why?

I am writing a long piece about this that will continue, but I needed to get this out there for some feedback.  In my quest for truth, consciousness and challenging the status quo, I want to know:

What is your definition of the word “Witch?”  Here’s what dictionary.com had to say:

Witch –noun

I’m not buying it. 

Let me hear from you…I really want to know!

Everything we shut our eyes to, everything we run away from, everything we deny, denigrate, or despise, serves to defeat us in the end. What seems painful can become a source of beauty, joy, and strength, if faced with an open mind. Every moment is a golden one for him who has the vision to recognize it as such.

-Henry Miller

Licia Biker Santa, by Terri 2009

I wrote this back in 2006, when I was fiercely examining how to reclaim the holidays as my own delightful invention, rather than something belonging to someone else that I was trying on. 

Many of us seem to blindly follow the crowd, as if in some sort of trance, when it comes to holiday time.  I certainly did this for many years!  But the anxiety and disgust that I started to feel about the holidays clued me in that something wasn’t quite right in my relationship with what could be a truly joyous time of year. 

You see, in order to see the culture, we must step outside of it.  Whatever it is that we are enmeshed with, it is very difficult to get clarity about the relative health of the situation unless we remove ourselves from it.  The extrication can be messy, especially when we are dealing with families and the high expectation of holiday time. 

It’s not an easy road to walk to look with a critical eye at the unconsciousness that can abound this time of year.  But I feel it’s better to deal with the discomfort that comes with the truth than to live with a lie. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Here we are again!  It’s the holiday time, and it never seems to fail to come back every year.  In my healing work, I think of things coming back over and over to prompt me to look at something about myself that needs some love and perhaps a change for the better.  I wonder if the holiday season might be a ripe opportunity for this kind of self reflection?

I think of the holidays as a time when we lose our center so easily!  It’s when the family trance comes over us like a mist, and we move about like robots following our marching orders.  Where are those orders coming from?  We are indoctrinated early to associate the holidays with over-consumption of all kinds.  We buy in to the idea that we must get together with families and that we must all have a wonderful time together.  We keep expecting the magic and mystery of the holidays to fill our hearts, but more and more of us are barely surviving until after the New Year, when we thank our lucky stars that we made it through one more holiday season.  ENOUGH!

I have come to see the madness that begins at Halloween and lasts through January 2^nd (here in the U.S.) as an embarkation on a crazy, out-of-control bus.  If you ever saw Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, you might remember the wild bus ride that Harry endures when he is whisked away from his ordinary muggle-life to another year at Hogwarts.  As Harry alights on the bus, the driver steps on the gas and the bus careens at insane speeds through traffic, almost running pedestrians over.  The ancient, decrepit bus driver is guided by a shrunken head who advises in a creepy, sarcastic tone when to brake, when to lift the skirts of the bus over other traffic, and when to make the bus pancake-thin in order to get through various obstacles.  Harry seems to doubt whether he will survive this bus ride; it is so crazy, so out of control, so frightening.  It is INSANE.  Perhaps the holidays don’t always make us wonder if we are going to remain bodily intact, but I know that many wonder if they will survive the crazy ride emotionally intact!   

It is interesting to me how I have moved through different cycles during my years of celebrating the holidays.  Certainly, as a child, I was delighted and mystified and just loved the essence of the holiday time, but I picked up on the adults’ stress and discontent, too.  They talked a good talk about the reason for the season being about giving and thankfulness and love, but that did not match with the alcohol, the family fights, the tears and stress around holiday time.  I dove into my presents and played with my cousins and tried my best to ignore them.  I hung on blindly to the idea of santa claus, a sweet, generous man who expected nothing in return.  I was devastated when my mother broke it to me that he did not exist (at age eleven!)  The mystery was gone.

Then it became about getting stuff….as an adolescent, I wanted but could not have the fancy things my fellow high schoolers had.  As a young adult putting myself through college, I do not remember a single Christmas (was I in a fog or did I just not celebrate?)  When I met my husband, I was adopted into his family and became part of the mega-family-holiday machine.  They had traditions that had been in place for generations in their southern aristocratic lineage.  I did not feel the permission to question or reject their traditions, so played along for awhile as a I thought a dutiful daughter-in-law should. It was overwhelming and exceedingly uncomfortable for me.   

When my husband and I had our own children, at first we tried to continue to attend holiday gatherings with the extended (and I do mean extended….like 50-plus people) family, but then there was the hardship of trying to honor my own family of origin.  Whose turn is it this year?  Let’s see, Christmas with mine, Thanksgiving with his…no, that’s how we did it last year.  I started to feel like the sausage two dogs were fighting over!  Then I got bitten by the Martha Stewart bug and wanted to create the most magical holiday season possible for my family-the only problem was I did not have a staff of 300 to help me out!  I got over that one pretty quick. 

And then there was this little voice inside me that said it was time to create our own traditions, in our own nuclear family, on our own terms.  I wanted to choose consciously where to put my energy for the holidays.  It was a huge shock to Peter’s family (not so huge for mine as I had already set some firm boundaries with them) for us to elect not to participate in the machine.  Peter’s parents expressed their unhappiness, and I am certain we were called some unattractive names by some in his family of origin, but we held our ground.  Now, some years later, it is expected by all that we will be having our Christmas at home with our own little family of four (and our cat!)  They are allowed to feel how they want to feel, and that is okay; I cannot control their choice to take it personally when we stay home.  But I do not feel responsible for their happiness any more.  They are free to choose what they want to do with their time just as we are.  AH….freedom!

It has been quite an exploration over the years to look at where I am trying to make others happy, trying to meet some unspoken obligations, trying to exceed expectation.  Identifying what resonates with my heart, instead of blindly clinging to traditions just because others do.  And now, our own family is expanding our idea of what the holidays mean to us.  We feel into our hearts as to what is best for us.  Yes, we consciously choose to incorporate some “traditional” rites during the holidays, but because they resonate with us.  And we incorporate some other things that are not traditional, again because that is what resonates with our family.  For example, we choose to celebrate the Winter Solstice as the beginning of our Yule celebration; we have a giant party with bonfire and wonderful food, and several craft stations set up to make snow flakes, paper-bead jewelry, cinnamon ornaments, and other fun things.  Then we have a ceremony to acknowledge the year that has passed, giving thanks for the bounty and the successes.  We write on colorful pieces of paper those aspects of ourselves that we feel we can lovingly release and transform, and then we throw them into the fire, blessings them as they burn.  We dance, we sing, and we celebrate being alive.  It is a wonderful night of kinship and love.

I am realizing it is always up to us, that we can choose consciously to enjoy what we already do for the holidays by being fully present and with a loving heart, or we can choose consciously to re-form what we do to reflect what makes us happy.  I don’t see much sense in a lot of running around and stressing out and settling for interactions that make me feel unhappy or even crazy!  Life is too short!   

Blessings to you and yours for this holiday season and always!

Wingapo Cheskchamay (“Welcome, All Friends” in Powhatan language)

I share this excerpt from my book with you now because I have lately struck a chord in some of my posts….there are others besides me who do not feel that they fit in, and are looking for their tribe.

Being “lost” is a kind of dramatic tale to weave…..it appeals to many. There are certainly lots of stories in history of “lost tribes” and their tragic search to come home.

I am a prime example of this in a genealogical sense….I see no separation between what lives in my blood, what lives in my mind, and what lives in my heart…..the greatness of my spirit holds all aspects of myself within its hands.

However, I choose that my having been “lost” has brought me many gifts and learnings, and that in the end, I have not been “lost” at all.

An excerpt from “The Blue Eyed Indian”
By Licia Berry www.liciaberry.com
Copyright 2008

Outer Banks of North Carolina

“My European ancestors were among the first to arrive at the remote barrier islands of what is now called North Carolina’s Outer Banks. In the 1500’s, the islands were alive with the Croatoan Indian hunters and fisherman who scoured the maritime forests and the rich waters for bountiful fish and game. When the fair-skinned people with the blue eyes arrived from the giant crafts on the water, my Indian ancestors were intrigued, and being polite, welcomed the visitors to their island. They feasted together, they showed the guests their lovely island (like we would for any tourist to our home town), and eventually, some of them fell in love.

Some of the fair skinned people feathered into life with the Indians; others went north to create the English settlement of Roanoke Island. This settlement later became “The Lost Colony”, when, fearing they had been abandoned by the English and needing help to survive, they returned south to live with the friendly Croatoan Indians in what is now Buxton, NC. These are the people I come from.

When the next larger waves of Europeans would arrive to the New World a generation or two later, they wrote with their quill pens in their journals of the peculiar “Blue Eyed Indians” they encountered along the North Carolina coast.

As more Europeans arrived, the goodness of the land on the Outer Banks was coveted for its rich resources and its location as a close ally to the ports in Virginia. The Indians began to feel the conflict that these fair skinned people brought into their midst. Skirmishes broke out, and eventually, the fair skinned people overtook the islands that had been occupied by Indians for 10,000 years.

Outer Banks Indians fishing on Pamlico Sound

The blue-eyeds among the Indians had a choice to make; were they white, or Indian? They would lose their lands on the island if they sided with their red-skinned kin….Would they survive if they sided with their European blood? For some, the call to explore the blood of their parents or grandparents, those who had come from far across the waters, brought a certain sense of longing, and they stayed with the whites. A few elected to go with the tribes, who retreated inland to nurse their wounds and to make plans about how to carry on. Some went north to now Virginia to be absorbed into the great Powhatan nation; others remained in the woods and wetlands of inland coast and eventually disappeared into the trees with their culture. The Croatoan had lost their best fishing grounds, lost many of their children and suffered humiliation after opening their arms and hearts to these fair-skinned people. But those who were part Indian, those who elected to stay with the Europeans, lost the precious knowledge and support of their Indian culture.

Generations of Europeans came to the Outer Banks and settled on this wild coast, making their living fishing those waters once enjoyed by the Powhatan, and scavenging off of the hundreds of ships that floundered on the Diamond Shoals, earning the nickname “The Graveyard of the Atlantic”. My father’s side of the family still remains on this remote outpost, miles off the mainland of our country. They speak in a soft brogue that reminds of me of Scotland, England and a faint tongue that is lost, the language extinct except for a few words. They are stoic and stubborn, refusing to leave the island when hurricanes bear down on the fragile sands. They also don’t like to admit that they are part Indian.

In fact, I didn’t know that we had any Indian blood until I was in my thirties, when a rebellious aunt whispered to me of our history. I have observed a bigotry and arrogance in some of these noble Hatteras people, as if they are better than every one else, perhaps because of what they have survived as they eke out their livings in this harsh place. I have never understood this stubborn need to protect our “heritage” as all-European (or, all white as they would say). Perhaps when they were forced to make the decision to be “white” in order to keep their homes and land on Hatteras Island, a psychic door closed on any other possibility.

But I was different.

All of my life the spirits of the wind, the water, the rocks and trees and earth have spoken to me. As a child, I was a wild nature girl; tangled hair and dirty face were my costume….I fought taking baths and showers, preferring to remain sister to the dirt. In frustration and in answer to my defiant nature, my mother chopped all my hair off at age 6. I tried to get lost in the woods and never could, because I knew the way home. The animals were my guides and messengers. The forest whispered of its love for me. The universe supported me, and Nature was my friend.

Yet, I was so different than the family who surrounded me. I didn’t fit; when I spoke of the subtle energy that I tapped into, I was ignored or strongly corrected. I wasn’t hearing and sensing and seeing those things; I was making things up. I got quieter about my feelings, but they never went away. Under the protection of the dense brush and out of sight of my elders, I performed ceremonies to honor dead birds or lizards that I found, to listen to and guide the ghosts that needed help to find their way home, to dance with all of creation as my cohort in life. No one had taught me these things; I just knew how to do them. And then came my initiation into the shamanic world….”

To be continued….

A Blue Eyed Indian

free bird

There is something about having an audience that provokes an artist (of any kind, whether writer, musician, visual artist, actor, etc.) to rise to the occasion and express themselves.  I find this to be what will cause me to sit down and write, sometimes more than the need to express, itself.  But the need to express today is strong.

When I was a little girl, I had a vivid imagination.  I imagined worlds and dramas and tragedies and great tales of heroism.  I sometimes told these stories during show and tell in 1st grade, interweaving the facts of my life with the fictions in my mind.  These acts of creativity were unappreciated for what they were, however.  The era, the lack of knowledge or understanding in the family I grew up in, and the location of backwoods North Carolina where I grew up had little appreciation of normal child development, and so I was labeled a Liar.

That label followed me around for many years….again, doing what normal children do to sometimes cover up their mistakes, to try to look good in the eyes of those who have the power, to try to minimize the punishments for falling down, I sometimes did not tell the truth.  No, I did not take a cookie.  No, I don’t know anything about the candy in Grandmom’s drawer being gone.  No, I did not take the few coins on my father’s dresser.  It is absolutely true that I did those things.

Later in life, as I understood some of the crazier events that happened to me in my family, I began to see that labeling me as a “Liar” was a brilliant, if unconscious, strategy.  No matter what excellent grades I brought home, no matter what awards and accolades, my identity at home would be one of not being trusted to tell the truth.  And so, when I did understand the importance of speaking out about my early life and dealing with it head on, I would have an inner conflict set up even before I started.

I wonder now if there is a different standard for boys and girls when they do the inevitable and make up a reality, or lie.  Are boys expected to be “naughty” and therefore not stigmatized about lying?  Are girls expected to be pure and chaste and innocent, and so if they act out in ways that children do, they bear the brunt of unfair discrimination?

I remember a particular day when I was 11 years old, when I was caught in a lie (I cannot remember what it was, perhaps the stealing the change on the dresser thing), when I was sent to my room.  I lay on my bed and cried for a long time, feeling a sense of injustice and not being understood.  My parents did not give me an allowance, so I did not have money to buy myself little things like candy or toys.  At the time, I didn’t intellectualize the fact that children need to feel a sense of power and control over their lives in some aspects as they begin to enter adolescence, a healthy, normal development, and that my taking the change from my father’s dresser was an attempt to have some power.  I just knew I felt zero support and understanding in my world.

My father came up and sat on the bed with me for a long time, speaking the importance of telling the truth and how all we have in this world is our reputation.  It may surprise some of you to know that this was one of the most beautiful gifts my father gave to me in our twisted, convoluted history together.  While he raged and sexually preyed on me as a drunk at night, when sober, he became the kind of man my inner masculine wanted to model myself after.  His sharing of his concept of honor made such a deep impression on me at that age that I am touched by his teaching to this day, and part of my moral code and devotion to truth I attribute to this conversation.  How interesting and ironic that my dear father, whom I love and hold in my heart despite everything, would coach and prepare me to reveal what he did to me.

Perhaps I was at the age that I began to understand the difference between truth in the consensual reality and the truth of my imagination.  Perhaps at age 11-12 the child’s brain is capable of conceiving what that means.  Already a prolific writer and winning competitions for my essays in school, I had some sense of the worlds that I had access to through my artistic ability.  I began to learn that I was intelligent, and that the way I put words together had an impact and inspired people.  But add the complexity of what had been done to me in the name of satisfying sexual greed in the dark of night, and the desperate need to keep the secrets in an alcoholic family, and you will see how the telling of the truth has become a very loaded topic.  The gravity of the truth began to shine clear, and the heavy weight to burden me.

What is the truth?  Is something true if we don’t want to look at it?  Is it true despite our attempts to deny it?  What are the ramifications of pretending something isn’t true when it is?  These are all questions that I have wrestled with in endless cycles since I began to wake up.

To this day, I have an obsession with truth.  To the point that if I try an experiment and say something that is NOT true, such as “My name is Beth”, I will start coughing.  I can’t do it.  My inner barometer won’t let me speak or write something that I don’t personally experience as true. 

I have examined many spiritual traditions as well as modern physics and understand now that there are as many realities as there are perspectives, and all are valid.  I also know (and experience) that if a reality is unobserved it may as well not have happened. 

Additionally, I understand that there is some modicum of truth that we can all agree to, if we are willing to acknowledge it.  While my family has given slight, grudging acknowledgment of the sexual abuse and no acknowledgement of the alcoholism I encountered as a child, there is great resistance to me talking about it.  Does this make it untrue?

In my desire to be a loyal daughter, I have censored myself for many years, even though the truth has leaked out in ways through my writing and art and conversations.  Even in therapy I have protected my family as a “good daughter should”, revealing only parts of the story, perhaps the parts that I could handle revealing to myself.  I love my family, as people and as having been the sieve through which I arrived in this world.  I would not be who I am without them.  I have even attempted over the 21 years that I have been in conscious recovery and healing work to actually heal my family, out of my love for them and desire that they, too, be free from the sickness that bound us.  They have been unresponsive, however.

Now, the bird that has lived caged in my throat must be freed, and I am going to talk about my life openly and unapologetically.  I will censor no more.  I choose not to become a raging fanatic for a cause, because that would be out of balance.  Yes, I am a survivor of sexual abuse and an adult child of alcoholics, but that is not my identity or the sum total of who I am.  Not by a long shot. 

My desire is to tell the truth in a measured, grounded way, honoring myself, with the intention and purpose to heal and to give permission to others to acknowledge the truth within themselves, no matter how heinous it may be to see.  I know from my own life journey of looking at these truths that therein lays the path to integration and Wholeness.  And an even deeper appreciation of The Truth.

"Under the Wing", photo collage by Dascha Friedlova, 2009

(Author’s note: It is interesting to me to see how my thoughts and writing style have evolved over years of time.  I see that there is still some use to the writings below, so offer them for your perusal.  Perhaps an updated version will follow!)

The Gift of Gratitude

How Giving Thanks Raises Our Vibration

By Licia Berry, 2004, originally published on www.liciaberry.com

The woman feels herself sinking into the familiar deep well of despair as she watches the nightly news.  She knows where this will go; she will be hit in the gut with absolute hopelessness, and in response she will find something to eat to fill the gnawing in her belly or she will pour herself a glass of alcohol to numb the pain.  Or, she will go upstairs to her bedroom and cry, wringing her hands over the state of the world, and fall asleep in tears.  This road is all too familiar to her; it goes nowhere good.  Then, something quietly dawns on her.  She hears a subtle voice; something tells her that she doesn’t have to choose this road, that there are others.  She makes a small move that begins to break the pattern she has lived over and over.  She goes into the room where her dusty sewing machine sits in the dark.  She pulls out a pattern she abandoned a long time ago and begins to sew, with devout attention and precious care, as if her very emotional well being depended on it.  She feels a bit better, a little at a time, then notices when two hours have flown by that she has been completely absorbed in her creative work.  She hasn’t thought about the horrific state of things for even a moment.  By making a leap out of the familiar, she has cut a new pathway.  She has made a new choice.  And the more often she takes the small step to do something different each time she goes into reaction about something, the easier it will be to have power over her response.

What happened when this woman made the choice to do something positive in the face of her despair?  Her body and mind were accustomed to going down a particular road…in fact; our bodies begin to expect us to go down certain path in the face of certain stimuli.  It is as if we train ourselves from an early age how to respond to emotional stimuli, mental challenges, physical difficulties, and even trauma.  But we always have the choice in how we respond, no matter how automatic our responses may feel.

“Both abundance and lack exist simultaneously in our lives, as parallel realities. It is always our conscious choice which secret garden we will tend… when we choose not to focus on what is missing from our lives but are grateful for the abundance that’s present — love, health, family, friends, work, the joys of nature and personal pursuits that bring us pleasure — the wasteland of illusion falls away and we experience Heaven on earth.”
Author: Sarah Ban Breathnach

We all experience moments in our day when something unexpected arises, or we don’t achieve a desired outcome.  We can perceive these situations as negative, positive or neutral.  Our attitude towards the event is not pre-ordained or automatic, although it may feel that way due to its being conditioned in our bodies for our entire lives.  In actuality, how we respond is our choice.  When faced with a potential shift in our attitude, there arises a single moment of decision about how we will handle it, what I call a “choice-point”.  We can choose whether we will tumble down the rocky hillside of victimization, ending up bruised and battered at the bottom, or we can choose to look at the situation as a learning opportunity, asking ourselves questions like, “What is the gift in this situation?  What message has the universe brought to me?”  By examining the situation from a larger perspective, we realize that we do indeed have a choice about how we respond.  And if we do go down the victim road, we can always stop and focus on what we are grateful for to bring us back up.

Scientific studies have confirmed what the sages and mystics of earth’s history have been telling us all along.  Gratitude, prayer and love carry a high vibration, whereas despair, anger and fear carry a low vibration.  Our bodies carry vibrations that change with our thoughts and with the vibrations we encounter as we move through the world.  A person whose body is wracked with disease is suddenly cancer-free after several hundred people prayed for him. A partygoer may show up grumpy and feeling anti-social, but winds up giving up the grumps because everyone else at the party is having a good time.  I may intersect with a rude person in a store, whose vibration is quite low due to their anger.  My body’s vibration may fall into a lower state if I allow myself to be triggered by this person.  Or, I can consciously choose to respond to the situation with love and maintain a high vibration in the face of the rudeness.  If I am around this person long enough and I focus on maintaining my high vibrational state, the other person’s body will be affected by MY vibration.  By the end of our interaction, whether we have said anything to each other or not, his vibration may have risen to the point that he is not angry anymore. This is the principle of resonance.  In layman’s language, the principle of resonance says that when there are two differing vibrations, one will rate of vibration will soon resonate like the other or they will move towards each other and meet in the middle.  This can mean that a lower vibration cannot remain constant in a sustained field of higher vibration.

This principle of resonance is played out beautifully in our physical bodies in the phenomenon of kidney stones.  We know that kidney stones are hard little calcifications that have to be passed through the body or surgically removed.  However, a recent technology now uses very localized doses of high vibration, aimed at the kidney, to actually dissolve the kidney stones.  The kidney stones are reduced to their smallest particles and passed easily through the body.  We can think of this as an example of how a low vibration, no matter how solid it appears, can be changed by focusing high vibration onto it.

Another example of this phenomenon of changing the vibration of something that seems unchangeable is the study done in 1993 by the Institute of Science, Technology and Public Policy in Washington DC.  This National Demonstration Project to Reduce Violent Crime and Improve Governmental Effectiveness brought approximately 4,000 participants in the Transcendental Meditation and TM-Sidhi programs to the United States national capital from June 7 to July 30, 1993. A 27-member independent Project Review Board consisting of sociologists and criminologists from leading universities, representatives from the police department and government of the District of Columbia, and civic leaders approved in advance the research protocol for the project and monitored its progress. The study, led by John Hagelin, PhD., showed a 25%-48% decrease in violent crime during the time period of the study.  The conclusion that can be drawn was that the high vibration of the 4000 meditators infiltrated the DC area, and that the low vibration of the aggression causing violent crime could not be sustained in the high vibrational filed created by the meditators.  (For more information on this study, go to http://www.istpp.org/crime_prevention/ )

A beautiful example of how our thoughts change vibration is evidenced in Dr. Masaru Emoto’s work.  He has documented, through remarkable photographic techniques, water’s response to positive and negative thoughts.  (Remember that positive feelings such as love, gratitude and prayer carry a high vibration, where as anger, sadness and fear carry a low vibration.)  In the case of a highly polluted river in Japan, the water photographs show a diffused, disorganized water molecule group.  When the very same water was blessed with prayer, the water formed exquisite, organized crystal shapes.  His research went further when he placed written phrases on bottles of distilled water and left them overnight.  Water responded to these phrases similarly; the water which sported the label “Thank You” formed beautiful symmetrical crystals, where as the water that carried the “You Make Me Sick” label responded with a discomforting display of pockmarked blobs.  As is evidenced in Dr. Emoto’s work, our attitudes and thoughts are reflected perfectly in the structural integrity of the water.  The really interesting implications of Dr. Emoto’s work lie in considering that human beings are more than 70% water.  If these thoughts affect a bottle of water so powerfully, how do our thoughts affect us and each other?  (See the website www.hado.net )

Even when some things may not be going the way we want, we can find other things in our lives that ARE supportive and be thankful for those.  And this will raise our vibration.

I was in a situation recently where I was reminded of this truth.    My family and I have been traveling now for almost a year in a motor home.  We recently encountered issues that have necessitated taking our home in to a dealership for repairs.  What was supposed to have been a simple overnight repair became a two-week ordeal.  Because we are living in the RV, we have been unable to access the things that we normally need to live our daily lives.  After a week of “not having a home”, I became triggered into feeling “homeless” and victimized.  While this would seem a reasonable response to the situation, I was miserable.  Life looked a whole lot less wonderful because of the state I was in.  I was in a low vibrational field of hopelessness, anger and depression.  After a few days of hanging out in this state, I remembered that I had other choices. I looked around me and was reminded that home is where the heart is; I have my beautiful family, we are together, and we are healthy and well.  AND, I was reminded that my Spirit is my true home, and that nothing can ever take that away from me.  Choosing not to identify with the low vibrational state, I slowly felt my perspective shift as I focused on how grateful I am.  It literally took me 10 minutes for my perspective to shift radically into feeling like I was basking in a ray of warm love.  I could not wipe the smile off of my face (nor did I want to!)  I see now that if I want to be happy in my life, there is great wisdom in choosing to be grateful and look on the bright side!

In addition to feeling better, being in a high vibrational state brings a clarity and focus that is not present in low vibrational states…we can think of acting out in anger and regretting later what we have said, or how people who are depressed feel fuzzy headed, as if they cannot think clearly.  This clarity that comes with high vibration suddenly brings everything into focus.  What is important becomes very pointed and clear!  And from this place we can make better decisions in our lives – decisions that make a positive contribution to our own well-being as well as the well-being of others and the planet.

And, if you don’t have enough reasons to consider feeling gratitude on a regular basis, consider this additional benefit, noted by Christiane Northrup: “Feeling grateful or appreciative of someone or something in your life actually attracts more of the things that you appreciate and value into your life.”  Here we see the principle of resonance yet again, as well as the law of attraction.  If we hold a high vibration, not only do we shift the rate of vibration around us, we attract similar vibration.  If you want more true love in your life, radiate true love.  If you want more kindness shown to you, overflow with kindness towards others.  If you seek more abundance in your life, look for the abundance that you already have and shower gratitude upon it.  (And remember that abundance is not only measured in money!  It is also love, health, freedom, creativity, wisdom, experiences, inner satisfaction, caring, giving, receiving teachings, giving teachings, blue sky, rain, good food, friends, time, togetherness, good books, options, loyalty, growth, family, manifestation, spiritual help, wide open vistas, sunrises, sunsets, trees, birds, animals and plants, air, water, fire, space, the stars and planets, and this beautiful earth which holds and sustains us!)

So what can you do to raise your vibration?  There are many resources you can draw on.  Some examples are mediation, reading holy texts, creating, dancing, singing, moving your body, celebrating, laughing, praying, making a list of the things in your life you are grateful for and thanking each of them, and of course setting the intention to raise your vibration.  Almost anything that takes you out of your usual pattern of heading down “Victim Road” will point you in the high-vibe direction.  And you and the world will be a better place for it.