“It was interesting when I discovered the archetype of the Rebel was so powerful in me. It was driving me to my death because my rebel was unconscious. When the Rebel is asleep it fights without a cause.”

Archetypes are universal and often subconscious symbols or behavior patterns, that serve as prototypes upon which we build our understanding of the world and of ourselves. They are frequent in myths and stories present in different cultures and they deeply affect the way we relate to the world.

Much—yet not enough—has been said about the powerful influence our archetypes have in our life, choices, health and well-being. So we met with Beth Martens, a modern-day archetype-based creative healer with a powerful story to learn more…

M: Beth, in a nutshell, what do you do?

B: I help women get passed their fear of expressing with an authentic voice. So that they don’t have to feel like they are doing that job all by themselves. They don’t have to ask for permission. I help them get their vision out there.

***

M: What event or life experience inspired you to create your personal coaching program based on healing through archetypes?

B: There was more than one. I spent most of the 90′s taking trips to India. I went eight times, back and forth. I met a number of amazing teachers. I was inspired  musically. Through meditation and yoga, it ignited this fire in me—that I had to teach and give back.

In 1999, I was diagnosed with Hodgkins Disease Stage 4 Lymphoma. It was a three year battle for me. I was told that I was going to die, so I faced my own mortality.

So ultimately, I laid on my death bed twice and had major breakthroughs. Everything was gone at that point; my work, home, my voice, my physical body. I was defeated. At that moment I threw down the gauntlet and I accepted reality. It was then I saw who I truly was, 100% effulgent.

It was through working with archetypes (archetypes are many ancient patterns that exist in human consciousness) that I was able to come to the edge of it and began to recover. While I was recovering, it became clear to me that I was not going to be able to go back to my life (working in a family business as a VP).

That’s when I had the revelations that I am meant to sing, I’m meant to work with women help them get that liberation that I was feeling. It made me realize that it’s not what you do but where you are coming from that has the influence on your health.

Eighteen months later, I was re-diagnosed with cancer. This time I didn’t fight. I went straight to the advice of the doctors. I had learned a lot from the first round and had all these skills under my belt. I learned how to be the author of my own experience. The medical establishment had recommended a stem cell transplant. At that point I had to look inside and find the truth in me.

It was interesting when I discovered the archetype of the Rebel was so powerful in me. It was driving me to my death because my rebel was unconscious. When the Rebel is asleep it fights without a cause.

At that time I was guided to work with Carolyn Myss, when her book Sacred Contracts had just come out. Somehow I  knew intuitively that this archetype wheel was my key, whether it was my key to die gracefully or live, I didn’t know.

As my Rebel was awakening, I was recovering.

After regaining my strength, I suddenly knew that I had to get out there and work with women. I created the Harmonic Archetype Wheel which supports women in their authentic journey.

***

M: Tell us more about your work in finding one’s voice. 

B: I tend to work with women who are already empowered and sharing their gifts with world. Even though these women may look successful on the outside, deep down they may feel that their life’s purpose is not being fulfilled.

When you want to take a risk that’s outside of your comfort zone, it invites a lot of energy in your system. Who is going to hold you accountable to what you truly want and not let you waffle on making your big break… again?

***

M:You mix music, meditation and yoga. It seems to me like a natural combination. How does this come together in helping women find their own voice? 

B: As an artist my whole life—one way or the other, visually or with sound, my creative world has often revolved around my love for music, song, composing, chanting, toning and “making a noise in this world.”

I do a coaching program called the Harmonic Archetype Wheel, which is my own creation based on Carolyn Myss’ work. Working on myself at the archetype level taught me that our lives are a whole harmonic expression, not just a bunch of separate parts and aspects.

Many creative women feel that their voice, their creative force, is going off in every direction. So with the Wheel, I help fem-preneurial creatives pull it all together to see what their archetype signature is, what is the life purpose they came to express and be a self-sustaining contribution.

***

M: Your personal story is very powerful. You had a child after surviving cancer and chemotherapy. Were your doctors and family against this decision?

B: Being a born rebel, I didn’t ask anyone’s permission. I knew I wanted to have a child, but I  also was told after all the chemo that I was unlikely to conceive. The universe hears us when we want something. My son was meant to be, so he came even against the odds.

***

M: Can you share one story of how your coaching helped someone come to their authentic voice?

***

M: Can you walk us through the steps a client takes?

B: To begin I host a new client for a discovery breakthrough session where we see what are the biggest obstacles that might be keeping someone stopped from being fully self-expressed.

After we discover if we have some potential for working together, we decide what coaching option / service suits the client best.

When it comes to the Harmonic Archetype Wheel, we begin with a series of questionnaires that have been carefully designed in order to bring out the way that your archetypes have been expressing through your life, that you might not be aware of. Then we get together to discuss what action steps are implied. You get a really nice visual of the way that your archetypes are working together.

After that there is a chance to integrate and to see how you could get support to implement the action steps for moving forward in a conscious way inside your life purpose and authentic voice. I’m a professional hand-holder.

B: Thank you, it is my pleasure! And thank you for hosting me here at Rebelle, it has been lovely.

I’d like to take this chance to invite you to join me at BethMartens.com for an epic-scale webinar called the Break Free Stories, highlighting the ways that some self-expressed creatives had turning points in their lives, broke away from expectations and the “norms” and took the risk of being self-sustaining and following their true life calling.

*Rebelle visitors can ask me about a zero-cost application if they sign up to get my newsletter as well as several free gift videos, seminars and a Break Free Stories webinar series. Just message me that you’ve read my interview on Rebelle Society. 

{Find your voice & join the Creative Rebellion.}

{Man Ray}

Eckhart Tolle had a recent conversation with Oprah Winfrey on Super Soul Sunday. They had this fascinating back and forth. Here is an excerpt I found particularly compelling.

Oprah (O): Love is ___________
Eckhart (E): Seeing yourself in another.

Oh, the yogic wisdom of these words. They excite me. I must share them. So I relay them to the next class I teach and then I ask my students,

“Can you see yourself in your loved ones? Can you see your own reflection? The parts of you that you love? And yes, the parts of self that quite frankly bug the shit out of you? Yes, both are slivers of self. That might really be pissing you off right now,” (the room chuckles), “But I ask you to entertain it. Usually, when there is something in another that really annoys us, it’s because we haven’t made peace with that part of ourselves yet.”

Now they are nodding. Their heads are down because I’m holding them in a deep hip opener, but they are still nodding along with my words, at least most of them are.

Here’s a secret, something I didn’t mention in that class: Even though I believe in this concept and it serves me well in my marriage, friendships and work relationships, for some reason I absolutely cannot pull it off with my sister. I haven’t really spoken to my sister since November—except when she came over on Valentine’s Day. It was good to see her, but it also reminded me that I really don’t know how to relate to her.

I don’t like speaking to this. It makes me feel like a failure, a charlatan. It’s important to be kind to myself, I recognize this, but in my eyes, this is a major shortcoming. It’s also important to be kind to her.

How can I be so focused on spiritual development and being myself fearlessly and at the same time barely be able to stand the presence of my own sister? How can I encourage others to see themselves in all others and yet my own sister baffles me?

I could not be more different than her. I don’t want to fix her or change her, but I can’t stand to be in her presence for very long either. This stumps me. I long for endless compassion in this relationship—towards myself and towards her.

Dr. Wayne W. Dyer says in his book, The Power Of Intention, that every single person comes into your life in exactly the right way at exactly the right time. He encourages us to look for what that person might be here to teach us.

Okay, so what is it? Why has my sister come into my life in the manner in which she has? Is she here to teach me to stand up for myself? Is she here to help me understand that I deserve more from my intimate relationships? Is she perhaps here to help me learn how to practice healthy boundaries?

Forgiveness of self and others will set you free.

The quote comes across my Mindful Moon phone app. “Yes, I know this,” I want to snap at the phone. So why can’t I forgive my sister? And does that mean that deep down, I haven’t forgiven myself? If so, for what? And if every single person, yes, every single person in my world is a projection of self, what am I projecting here?

I don’t have all the answers. So I won’t pretend to. But I do know that I hope someday to solve this one — with love, with grace and with kindness. Never-ending kindness.

*****

{Road to freedom.}

By Edith Lazenby.

“The whole of life is letting go.” (Life of Pi)

Time continues to teach me this simple but hard truth.

Even the final relaxation in yoga is called ‘corpse pose’ to represent the final exhale, where we reach the end of our mortal coil, and where faith teaches us to believe death as another beginning.

I am going to be 54 years old soon. And what I continue to experience shows me this truth of letting go over and over again.

As Pi also says, in my words, “the tough part is not saying good-bye.”

The practice of yoga, meditation and growing into ourselves is the process of knowing when to say good-bye — to the people who no longer serve us or the people who die; to the friends who walk away with or without apparent reason, the loss remains in either case; and to the parts of our life that hold us so tightly that we struggle to hang on, knowing somewhere deep within that if we have to struggle so hard, then we have already lost our hold.

Yet, as Alanna Kaivalya, one of my new teachers, says, “yoga is our natural state.”

We do not have to attain anything. We are yoga. The practice of asanas is a gate. The practice of meditation is a gate. Living life is a Dharma, a path. What makes the difference is the awareness we bring to it.

If we learn to let go, with or without goodbyes, we join the present. We are not hanging on. We become unstuck. We can go with the flow of life.

I know of late I have had trouble finding the flow. Caught in my own struggles, focusing on what I do not have versus counting my blessings each day, I have been stuck.

I cried for three weeks.

And nothing has really changed, except my relationship to what is.

Tears are healing. Grief is in me, as it is in all of us. I wonder if my focus was just a way to help me find need and desire as if they were enemies instead of friends.

I know from experience that arguing with life does not work — a challenge forces one to see beyond the shadows and beam the light in any way possible.

When caught in shadows, I feel for light through the cracks in my heart that will not let me drown in the darkness. And though I may look at need and deny its pulse, and I may dance with desire without meeting the music, Truth shines beyond the fight.

The fight appears often to be with how things are but ultimately, how things are serve as a mirror to how I am.

Change is often not easy. Letting go rarely is but it does not have to be.

Suffering is part of being alive – not the fact that there is suffering, but how to grow and relate to it. Even the enlightened have to eat and drink and go to the bathroom and do laundry.

We are meant to live in the world for we are of the world. Few of us have to live with a tiger on an ocean to face self through life. Many do not practice asanas or meditation.

Yet if we take yoga as yoking, as a means to bringing together our parts into a whole, then ultimately the practice of seeking balance is yoga; and don’t all of us teeter on an edge, sometimes sharper than others, where all our actions revolve around balance?

*****

Edie cites poetry and yoga as her first and second loves respectively, and her faith holds her through all of it. She loves to write and learn. While she thrives on being with others, Edie knows that her heart needs silence on occasion to hear its own beat. She is a full-time yoga teacher and writer, who continues to enjoy coffee though tea is probably better for her. Feel free to check out her blog at Edieyoga, or drop her a line at edieyoga@gmail.com. Edie lives with her partner, best friend and husband – Mike, doting together on 4 kitties.

{Don’t argue, flow.}

{AKT Woman by Sleepwalker via Pretty In Pencil}

By Matthew Walker.

“She Was Just a Sketch
A thin girl under a thick sky
So thin , each rib stood
for something…”

~ She Was Just A Sketch, Olena Kalytiak Davis

Reclining…staring, hands flushing the flesh –

I tour nothing; I un-tour, I con-tour, I…de-tour.

These are wisps of dandelion:
They unfurl and never settle.

My frailty, observed,
Simulated with intelligence…or…consciousness…

That is purely fake, yet fully skeletal.
Perceptions are offerings that (ful)fill somatic distortions –

I am the erection of your narrations;
I am the bones you long to grip, but never will;

No — only an outline, not puissant in any way.
You see me dying; dwindling…You pay to fuck ‘me’.

Look at this light nib. Going into me cannot happen…but
Being me, here, I will be bony for you, a mandible so shaped for this.

*****

Matthew Walker is a post-confessional poet currently finishing his MFA in Creative Writing and Critical Studies at California Institute of the Arts. His poetry follows a parabolic narrative that weaves sparse formal constraint with themes dealing with consciousness, trauma, gender identity and mental illness. Matthew also blogs about the tropes of contemporary media. When not pursuing his research interests and writing, Matthew explores online worlds and, recently, the Bay Area. You could contact Matthew at wickedcultured@gmail.com or check out his blog, Wicked Cultured.

{Look at me.}

Artwork: Guphacci

By Adelaide Jumbe.

A dark cloud fell over my eyes and a monster emerged.

It thrashed me around on the floor and darkness emerged, time passing unconsciously. Drumming on my temples it woke me from my sleep. Louder and louder, a pulsating rhythm. What is this thing inside of me? The joy left in me has the enthusiasm of a dying candle. The sound of my laughter is but a distant memory. Inside me anger bubbles over, confusion, pain…I am afraid. What is this thing that looks back at me in the mirror?

Yesterday I ran freely. Today I walk carrying with me a load of lead.

With each step I grit my teeth and give a weak smile to comfort the world. Inside, I scream, “Help! I am trapped in here.” A silent cry in the shower for these arms to work. I stand and let the water do all the work. Instead the water runs down the drain washing out the little bouts of energy I had reserved. Are these the limbs of a women in her prime? I will try again tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes with its own agenda, to rob me of the mask I have so bravely worn.

“I always wanted to wear hats”, I say. The ripping of my mask reveals an angry butterfly, poised upon my nose and cheeks. It will not fly away. The hat falls lower and I begin to shrink.

In the dead of night when the hat comes off, bald patches remain where once I carried my afro proudly.

The butterfly invites its friends to occupy more space. “There is room for you all. Take the hands, mouth, nose or ears”. Fiercely they fight for space, each leaving their mark. These hands, will they ever again hold a pen without agony? “Come!”, the butterfly beckons to its fluttering friends.

What is this monster that silently attacks? Again I look in the mirror searching for myself.

Finally a voice…”I am lupus”.

Lupus reaches out to embrace me. Squeezing my chest tighter and tighter, it grimaces. A quiet, steady voice speaks out between painful breathes, ”Let’s fight.”

*****

Adelaide Jumbe – As a teenager I enjoyed writing and exchanging stories with friends. Apart from the occasional blog on my website, I now write primarily for myself. It’s the perfect way to sort through my feelings and thoughts. Last year I started a campaign for raising lupus awareness in Denmark. I was diagnosed with lupus in 1999.

*****

{I am Lupus.}

Source: Google Images

 

By Mushk Hoor. 

With the harness in my hand,

The three faced horse disobeys me.

It runs away dragging me with it.

“I am in charge. Listen to me”,

I order it.

“The one who holds the reins is not the master,

I am the desires you hold” it answers.

“You can’t control me,

You only gave birth to me”.

All eyes looking for me,

All around,

But I am long gone,

With this horse,

Taking me to strange places.

“What are these?

I have never seen this,

A war?

I never had a desire for war.”

“Yes, you did, in all these years you did”,

It replies.

“A heaven?

Is it heaven?

Did I die in the war?”

“No, this is not heaven,

This is your victory.

The unbound victory,

Waiting on you for a long time,”

The horse replies.

“Fire?

From victory to fire?

Did I lose?”

“No, this is your anger, your rage,”

It answers.

“Rage?”

“Yes, the rage you hold for all your desires”

The last thing I remember is seeing the horse burn in the fire.

*****

Mushk Hoor is 23 years old, a business student and a schoolteacher in Pakistan. She likes to write short stories and poetry, simply to express herself. She spends most of her time reading books as they have the power to answer most of her questions. She loves kids and their mysterious and beautiful world. She believes that if you have something to say, you should find a way to express it. If you wait for the world to hand you a chance, you might end up waiting your entire life.

*****

{Desires.}

Photo: Google Images.

By Michelle Bartolo.

After having leafed through many bios of yoga teachers, it dawned on me that where they have been and who they have trained with served little purpose.

The teachers who actually got down to the nitty-gritty parts about how Yoga stepped into their lives and what led them there are the ones that really resonates with me.

Sharing the battle from escapism to truth, here I bare all…

My parents both passed away when I was seven. It was traumatic, and it was not an accident. My father was very mentally unwell all of his life and one day decided he could not live with, or without, my mother — a tragic love story.

For years, I thought it was a bad dream. Every morning, I would wake up and think they would be there.

From a young age, I learned that nothing is forever.

The first few years after their death, I lived in a bubble.

Kids at school asked a lot of questions. I fed them a lot of lies. The truth was just too intense. The lying took place throughout my life — the real story of loss was shocking and not one you share with all. I also found that the more I talked about it, the more it took me back there.

So, I buried it.

It felt surreal that they were not around anymore. My brother was 18 at the time. He became my legal guardian — a huge responsibility for someone so young (but he was amazing). Oddly enough, I think my childhood was more privileged than that of my brothers and sisters. I had much more freedom as a child having such a young caregiver, and in the first few years, there was a lot of peace in our home.

I also had a strong sense for others who were suffering. I was always, and still am, referred to as the sensitive one in the family. This feeling led me to wanting to help others in my later years, and through that, without even realizing it, I was also helping myself .

So from a young age, I learned that everything can be gone in just a snap! I learned the importance of the saying, live everyday as if it were your last.

My tendency with people I felt good around was to be around them as much as possible, just in case it would all be over tomorrow. I learned to forgive fast. I fell in love often and hard, and I still do — and I find that I get over it all even faster. I wanted to gobble up everything I could. Some antics were healthy ones, and others were not. I still live with this angst that it could all be over tomorrow, so I have to live my life to the fullest today, and that will stress some people around you right out!

I delved into the world of drugs and alcohol and everything came up. It was like a volcano spewing out all its lava. It was a new-found freedom and it felt great! I indulged more to let out more. I danced, I wrote, I painted, it was endless (N.B.: In my familia, we were raised to keep our voice hushed. Bury everything, the good ol’ Catholic way). It felt like all of these antics were helping me to shovel up everything I had buried deep down, but not in a progressive way.

Now, do not get me wrong, I am not promoting taking drugs. There are healthier ways to open up. This was just the path that I chose to take. Every Up has its Down.

I lived on my own from a young age. I attended the University, but also worked in the downtown bar scene in Toronto and got introduced to a lot of underground parties. Initially, I felt free from years of buried questions and emotions. Later on, it became a form of escapism. I felt like a victim — an attitude which gets you nowhere but down.

Be it right or wrong, good or bad, I see the benefit of it all, as well as the downside. It is certain that this lifestyle is not one you can live for long without some repercussions.

Wham! Bam! It was my 30^th birthday and I decided it was time for a lifestyle change. I found myself wondering where I was going in life. I had no direction, no answers. It terrified me. I stopped everything in one go. Bye bye drugs, alcohol, nightclubs and parties.

My body went into shock. All of a sudden, I was not feeding it what it was used to getting. I fell into a deep depression for six months. It was the scariest place I have ever been. I often pondered ending my life and would hope for my mattress to just swallow me up at night. I would imagine standing on the edge of a cliff, knowing I would not have the courage to jump, but also knowing that if someone was willing to push me, I would consider that.

Initially, the doctor put me on antidepressants, which just made everything feel worse and foggier — just dreadful. I was in such a deep and dark hole that for months, I could not see even a small twinkle of light. I couldn’t take these pills any longer. I remember flushing them down the toilet in secret.

I would not let these pills be the end of me.

Then I found a natural healer, and this was the beginning of my journey to healing. Through natural therapies she began to release me from my blockages, of which, she said, I had many. I remember her punching me hard in the chest just to get some reaction out of me. I was completely numb. She did sujok, which is a healing through seeds on certain pressure points, acupuncture and reiki — they were helping a bit, but not enough. At this stage, chocolate was what made me feel the best! It became my new addiction, hence I gained 10 kilos and felt even more crappy about myself.

But, it was all part of the ride.

At this point, a friend suggested Yoga. I was always into fitness, but yoga? Whatever. I thought it was a lame excuse for doing exercise. I was the biggest yoga skeptic. All the same, I decided to give it a go, and once I found my teacher, there was no turning back. It really did help me let go of everything that was wrong for me. It taught me a gradual process of healing. I learnt to let go of things one at a time instead of kicking it all out in one go.

I even remember going into a few morning yoga classes after heavy nights of partying and my teacher being perceptive enough to know my situation. I felt so horrible during class, dizzy and nauseated, but so much better after — so much so that I did not want to go partying the nights before yoga so I could benefit from the naturally high of my yoga class.

It helped me connect with feelings that I had buried deep down long ago, but in a safe way, through awareness. I started journaling again.

Yoga became my new thing. I hit as many classes as I could. My diet started getting healthier and I was more gentle with my body and mind. I started losing weight and feeling great. It happened so much faster than any other type of healing, that I had tried. My body and mind quickly responded to it.

I learnt that part of this ride is falling off the tracks again and getting back on. I had stopped smoking cigarettes and marijuana. Then I traveled and bumped into old friends with old habits. I caved.

Yoga was still in my life, but I got back into smoking marijuana and hashish on a daily basis. I was chronic. I would wake to a joint for breakfast and smoke them like cigarettes throughout the day. I believed I would never quit. I did not want to. I could not imagine hanging out with people who did not smoke. Now that I have left it all behind me, the complete opposite is true. It still shocks me. Sometimes it feels hypocritical, but I view it as part of my past.

Yoga was still in my life. Gradually, it came to a point where the more yoga I did, the less I smoked. I met different people who did not smoke and that made it an easier transition. It all happened naturally. At one stage, I was smoking chronically, then once per week, then once per month, then perhaps once every six months, then not at all. This was a 4-year transition.

Yoga taught me, that it is completely natural to have setbacks and to not get hung up on them. Yoga taught me, that I felt better without it than with it. Then I got back on the right track. What was the other option? To just give up?

There have been times when I wondered if it was still something I missed doing. I found out, that I did not miss it at all. I did not feel the need to escape anymore because, through yoga, I found the peace in me. The time had finally come where I had let go completely. Not feeling the need for anything (but yoga) was one of the most freeing feelings, I have experienced.

So that is how yoga came into my life and what it has done for me. It taught me to find the teacher in me. It has given me a strong need to pass yoga on to others, but I hold back because I remember how much I despised having anything pushed on me. I hope that perhaps this will aid any of you with similar issues.

Research proves that the easiest thing to do is give up. It is what adults do best. I am thinking that we should work on changing this fact. The only certain thing in life is change.

*****

Michelle Bartolo – I can be found here. I surf through life and Yoga has taught me to ride every wave and enjoy every high and low, and barrel through all that comes in between. I’m a rebel at heart and follow my gut. I love man not less but nature more, my voluntary beach cleaning group is called That’s Rubbish and we’re making the change we want to see in the world. Love your mother (earth). You’ll catch different sides of me: I like to rip up a few dance floors on the occasional weekend, roller blade as fast as I can down the biggest hill I can find with lots of cars beside me, ’cause if you’re not living on the edge, you’re taking up too much space! I don’t eat animals, and I believe we should treat others as we would want to be treated, so please don’t eat me! Keeping It Light and finding my peace is my aim always. Inhale Freely, Exhale Forever! 

*****

{Exhale.}

Photo: Google Images.

By Saacha Vitalle.

Why is it so important to marry yourself first?

If you do not have a good relationship with yourself, you will most likely not be happy with any person you are with.

Being married to yourself simply means having a good relationship with yourself, and acknowledging your inner voice.

This voice talks to you when things are right and when things are wrong. It talks to you all the time and it makes sure that you are taking care of yourself and your basic needs. It protects your interests, yet there may be times when you misinterpret it as your ego — you know that there is a difference!

At times, you might override this voice, but it has a way of occasionally reminding you of its presence and that you simply have to hear it and acknowledge it.

That voice is speaking of your basic needs. It is your intuition, your feelings.

Do you ever stop and look in the mirror, not to see what is wrong with you, but to look for all the right things?

Today I had the privilege of looking at myself in the mirror and seeing all the good stuff. I said to myself:

“You know what? You are such a beautiful human being inside and out! I simply can’t stop looking at you! I see what you don’t. I see that you have grown into a beautiful and mature woman, though you might not have recognized it yourself.”

So today I simply got married — to myself.

It was a personal reminder to respect myself. To respect the person that resides in this body and her needs. To let her voice be heard. To let her stand tall with me.

Together, she and I will acknowledge each other and be whole. She will be my guide. We will make decisions together and when the time is right and we get to meet the right one, we will place a ring on the ring finger of my left hand. That will be the reminder of two bonds — one to the right one and another one to myself. All three of us will walk together proudly, gracefully and balanced.

By Chantelle Jahara Pinto. 

Dear Presidents, Premiers, Prime Ministers, Oligarchs, and Billionaires,

I have to let you in on a secret. The trajectory on which you have fixed the course of your nation is leading you directly towards the jagged rocks of deep, thorough, public humiliation; and some pretty serious personal suffering. (Long sentence permits you to gasp for air here). There are no life rafts because your ship is unsinkable, right? What are you going to do?

That you continue to seek power in the same way as those who went before you is, frankly, boring. Very 1980. Your kids think you are totally uncool. And if they don’t now, they soon will.

It can no longer be like the good ol’ days, where you scratch your privileged friends’ backs and bypass laws and conscience. The karmic wheel spins faster than ever before. Did you know that secrets have evolved into an air-like substance? They cannot be contained.

Exposed schemes and bribes will be the daily joke on social media until you quit playing the political version of, “Why are you hitting yourself?” You might be buffered by money, but even money is not what it used to be. Fewer people go after the billions, have you noticed?

If you like tattoos, you might consider getting one that says, ‘Secrets have no integrity.’ Maybe a necessary reminder for this transitional period. Everyone will know what you have said and done. Not today, but sooner than you’d like.

If this is not reason enough to change tact, here’s a fact. Karma and reincarnation are real. I speak from experience. Rip the palm trees from under the orangutans, dig up half of Australia for minerals, kill our whales and dolphins, and you can look forward to a crazy and miserable life next time around. If you harm the defenseless, consider your karma multiplied a thousandfold.

Lobbyists are rats, people! Politicians, break your addiction now. Go outside and do your own research on what your country cares about. Remember those dreams you had when you were 6 years old, when you believed that your leadership would make the world a better place? You still can! Lobbyists were the deckhands of that ship which sank a moment ago. They are as outdated as reality TV and plastic surgery. At least I hope they are outdated.

If you stay in bed with these guys, you will get caught with your pants down, I promise. Try explaining that to your grandchildren. Bending over for Monsanto was your ultimate mistake. Maybe the most naïve citizens of the world still believed that you represented their interests. But now your following is zero. You are nothing but a puppet with a stranger’s giant, stinking hand up your… what is the name of that part of a puppet?

I suppose I should let you know that a crash is coming. It is going to make the global financial collapse look like it was a bad day at the races. Big Pharma, you keep people sick because a lot of people make a lot of money. It is the worst kept secret on the planet. I look forward to your perp walk on national TV. It has to be this way. We cannot advance as a race when half of us are morbidly obese or riddled with cancer.

Kim Jong Un, you seek fame and respect? Then why the hell are you behaving exactly how a spoiled, cocooned child of a dictator would behave? To be famous, you need to do something unexpected — like becoming good and generous. Here is your chance to be remembered as the guy who put North Korea on the map, and yourself off the scary crazy man list.

Thank you for reading Rebelle Society, by the way. May I call you Un?

I usually don’t do private consultations, but I’d be happy to teach you how to cleanse. Boy, will you think differently with a clean colon! Prison labor colonies will actually look like a terrible idea. I promise I will not mention those pointy things you have got aimed at the horizon. One step at a time, Un.

China, you have fallen for the values of the west, but it is a trap! You do not have to imprison your own people in factories to become great. You have been great all along. You produced the highest wisdom at a time when you did not censor knowledge or religion. I sense you are afraid of a chaotic future. Maybe you wonder how long you can hold your people down.  And you should be afraid, because humanity has never been kept down (for long).

History will remember you as leaders of unhappy, narrowly educated people who are quite aware of what you are doing to them. This is not the behavior that makes a country great. Release your grip, and see that your people will not run from you.

Thank God for Stockholm Syndrome. They will love you and make you proud, because they love China — especially the China that was once a world power — a cultured, free and curious people who could explore their quantum universe. Remember, you used to discover crazy things, like meridians and qi energy.

America. What happened? What did you do?! I think we need to go to the corner and think about where we went wrong. Pull global dominance off its gilded shrine. Maybe the best remedy is to share a nice cleanse with my new friend Un. I do not know why, but clarity can be found in no time when lying with buddies in a steamy room followed by a plunge in icy cold water.

I’ll tell you about the first lesson of Byron Katie: “There are three businesses in this world — my business, your business and God’s business.” Then you have to ask yourself, “Whose business am I in?” A lot of my American friends tell me that they feel uncared for. They speak, but no one listens. Of course you are not the only ones who get into other people’s business, but you definitely champion the cause.

Russia, don’t think your outrageous oppression is sneaking past the world’s eyes unnoticed. I just won’t go into detail because of your penchant for killing people. If you may permit me one question though: Have you thought through your plan of killing anybody who does not like you? History shows that killing people does not really make the yet-to-be-killed feel warm and fuzzy.

Finally, let us come in for a group hug. Hear my soft, assuring whispers; a secret that will transform you and your minions into a form of greatness that you have yet to achieve.

You do not have to be afraid of women.

 

Sirens, witches, and femme fatales only exist in fairy tales — and the Secret Service. Did you know that the word ‘coward’ appears on your forehead every single time you say “we protect you for your own good”?

Enough!

We are fine. In fact, we are fantastic, extremely capable and divinely creative. Do you want your son to grow up in a world with peace, effortless communication, and abundant natural resources? Then include the women — your mothers, sisters and wives. If we are acting crazy, it is because you are standing in front of the freaking door and will not hand over the car keys.

Women will not harm you like you harmed them. Okay, maybe once, a little bit, but they are known to forgive fast. Cherish them like they cherish their children. Trust them. They are the missing link that will right the world. Be brave. You can do it.

Give your people everything — your heart and truth. Trust them and they will trust you. Conquering your fear is the beginning of your wisdom. The world is not going to suffer fools much longer.

Sincerely,

Chantelle Jahara Pinto

*****

Chantelle Jahara Pinto writes as ‘The Presidentess’ on her blog yogaleaks.com. She publishes weekly articles and is working on a novel. Chantelle is an Ashtanga yoga practitioner and yoga teacher. She is a ‘kriyaban’, studies Tao, Buddhist and Hindu philosophy, a passionate meditator and health enthusiast. Chantelle has enjoyed many years as a luxury spa and retreat manager. Dedicating her life to create other-world (or better-world) experiences is a theme that continues to run through her life. She has traveled extensively and worked in numerous exotic locations around the world. Chantelle currently lives in Rio de Janeiro.

 

 

 

{Heart Politiks}

Photo: Creative Rehab / AB

Dear Writer,

If your fingers are tired of so much typing on air, and the sun’s in your blood but not in your hair, and good weather is just an exception, and deep down so were you before all the prescriptions…

If you’ve lost count of seasons, and cuss out global warming for Decembers in May, for all the reading you still haven’t done, in the last thousand years of lonely words on your back; and all the dishes of the world—melting down in your sink, and babies that haven’t been born—always crying, the cat missing for days, the bills still unpaid, ’cause you’re not in it for the money, are you?

If you don’t even have time to change the music on your old MP3, but it’s okay ’cause this is how you got to memorize Beethoven and now you catch yourself humming it when no one’s around to misunderstand, and you remember that Beethoven was deaf—just like you on most days, while the genie is stuck in a bottle in Bali—at a genies’ retreat. Who needs them anyway, you can’t trust creatures with half their body missing…

And if you’re trapped in someone else’s wrinkles and wondering if there’s been a misunderstanding, cause the last time you checked you were only 19, and you’ve been stuck on the highway of time all these years, paying your toll in dream currency, trying to put into words why people in ads are always so goddamn happy about eating yogurt…

That writer, saturnine You, with dark ‘n’ bright circles round your eyes from so many late-night walks on the moon, and scissors instead of fingers, and clumsy metaphors instead of gloves, on days like today only screaming comes easy, but you’ve been colonized and it’s hard to be wild in the concrete jungle, so put your shirt back on, maybe go for a walk?

Meanwhile, in your veins, not even tree sap. And deep down you wish that all wishes came with the right degree of amnesia because we first need to forget the impossible in order to attempt it.

That writer, or someone like you, splash this ink on your face, so you stop seeing the lines of not-enough, memories of not-you, songs of not-here, dreams of not-now; smash your writer’s pride against this dirty window, like the blind (and deaf) bird trapped in your chest—and if the blow isn’t fatal, flap your wings even harder at the mere idea of flying.

And if you still hold a sword in your mouth, cut out the ‘s’ and repeat after me:

1. I write…so I am.

2. I won’t wait for the right time, the right place, the right people or circumstances. Right is wrong, left is ‘write’ and I’m a fucking unicorn who knows how to type.

3. I’ll find a way to my will because that’s what wills are for and what worlds are made out of, and a human being is 70% water and 30% creativity, so go ahead, tell me I can’t. We’re map-makers by nature. And this life, uncharted territory.

4. I won’t tell the stories I’m not in, somehow. I won’t attempt to say without being, to show without first seeing, or be without becoming. I am the sole owner of my fingerprints so I’m responsible for what I leave them on. I must first gain a tree’s respect before I sacrifice it to carry my voice for generations, and think twice before adding another meaningless pixel to an overpopulated screen.

5. I’ll keep defying language when it begs for rebellion, stretching thought muscle, questioning rules I made just by breaking, because it’s only through annihilation that I can re-create and only through destruction that I can rebuild a more likely version of the unthinkable. Imagination atones for reality’s sins and it’s our only chance for survival.

6. I’ll write like my life depended on it, like a mad, keyboard-possessed, obsessive compulsive homo sapiens writiens, disturbed by the thought of a life without words. Like I was chased by hungry GMO vampire-robot-alien zombies, and life really was short, and I had to hand it back soon and how else would I remember any of it when I come back recycled, if I don’t leave any traces behind?

7. I’ll write in spite of disaster, sadness, virus, mosquitoes or loss; in spite of being punched in the gut by despair, poked in the third eye by doubt or losing my neurons to love. I’ll write to heal from the reminder of the scars that won’t heal and edit all the lifelessness out of my face. Slowly.

8. I’ll write because I’m afraid of dying and I can’t stand the thought of living forever. I’m trapped between Always and Never. And in my eyes, the Now I can’t catch. But stories have a way of retelling themselves, long after their tellers are gone.

9. I’ll write because Art is a mirror to life. It notices the world and it points back at her when she’s being beautiful or terrifying or insensitive or insane. I signed a non-negotiable contract at birth to return her reflection in the truest way I know how.

10. I’ll make peace with my ordinary days and extraordinary moments, my soft-spoken rain and my hurricanes, my gods and my demons, my fading beauty and my secret ugliness, all the people whose stories I carry, generations of stardust and song. I am all the universe contained in a paragraph.

11. I’ll write because it’s the end of the world and my house is on fire and someone needs to be saved, and if I listen closely, if I lower my mind’s piercing volume just for one true minute—in which nothing exists except breath—and I soften my jaw, and follow the way lit by the flames, at the end of the hallway…it’s me.

 *****

Why do you write? Add your Why, Where, Who, What, When, How, to this manifesto to remind yourself, and help us remember.

More via Rebelle Writing Lab: 

>> How to dig deep into yourself.

>> 11 Juicy Tips from Mark Twain.

>> “If it doesn’t come bursting out of you…” ~ Charles Bukowski.

>> Jack Kerouac’s 30 keys to life & writing. 

>> 11 tips & tricks for troubled writers.

New species discovered!

Homo Sapiens Writiens: (verb.) People who write themselves back to life.

See samples here.

By Sarah Voldeng.

What if today were your last day? What if?

Would you call your forgotten, tenderly embrace your loved ones, or whisper your secrets to the summoning of the wind?

Would you inhale the ocean air and let the salty powder shock your senses?

Would you curl into a knotted ball of remorse for all you have done and are yet to do, drowning in sorrow and self-pity, or would you be loving, forgiving and freeing?

Would you look deep into the light of your eyes and honor your soul and your life as you chose to live it, or would you be filled with regret, wishing you had done more, aimed higher, lived fuller and laughed deeper?

Would you swallow in the beauty of the world, taking it with you, leaving nothing but a trace of your delicate breath?

Would you gaze at the beveled rock face, knowing that the surface is steep and unpredictable, or would you stretch forward, gripping, ready and committed, knowing the feeling of accomplishment that unfaltering awaits?

What if today were your last day?

Would you look back in despair, or illuminate into the future, soaking up all that unknowingly remains?

Would you be paralyzed and tread with fear, or would you be calm, serene and faithful?

Would you be clinging to life with heels dug in, leaving behind nothing but a trail of empty soul dust, or would you be swift, sure and float freely into the silence of the midnight breeze?

Would your heart burst open, filled with sweet and tasty memories, thoughts and dreams, or would you wither, wrinkle and dry in what remains, dehydrating with what little time is left?

Would you leap, jump, celebrate, indulge and reminisce, or would you crumble and fall into a mass of unfortunate despair?

Would you call on the lover who broke your heart, the dear friend who misunderstood, and the artist who left your portrait unfinished, or would you linger in wonder, assumption and prediction?

What if today were your last day?

What if?

*****

Sarah Voldeng is completely untameable, has an irreverent sense of humor and is highly passionate about life. She has a giant soft heart and a fiercely loyal spirit. She owns a nutrition consulting practice on Vancouver Island, loves sports, cooking, photography, travelling and relaxing in her garden. Find her at www.absolutelynutrition.ca or connect with her via Facebook.

 

 

 

{Today never happened before.}

Click! 

That moment that you realize you are okay and will be just fine. That ah-ha moment and appreciation hits dead on your heart target. A part of you drops to your knees in a little disbelief and the other part gives thanks. That moment that opens you up to that Truth.

You are beautiful in every way.
You are creating your reality…
And doing just fine.

At times thinking you have missed the boat, standing on the edge wondering if any chance will come and realizing you are really on the boat…just heading in another distance that fits you better.

Splendor of that moment
When breath is life
When chance means risk
When you become who you truly are
And embrace all that you are…

You may be different and making a difference in that unique way that is just you. As you get to know yourself and thank yourself for taking the path you did. That deep appreciation for the seemingly harder path and rough road of experiences as understanding you are here for those experiences… Life is good.

Beauty of that moment
Open heart and vulnerable
Strong in trust and yourself
You are getting the plan
Even when you know you haven’t got a clue
The brilliance will show you the way.

Alchemy has that brilliant essence about it. That inner voice and knowingness of the uncertainty… that faith and trust grows with each step and even with the mistakes.

Alchemy is that magic of blending and mending items, thoughts and experiences into the metaphorical precise metals of gold and silver. With that magic, you get that perspective and perception of your choice. It lives and breathes. Open your heart to the very magic within and all is possible with love, abundance and the dance of appreciation.

“The secrets of alchemy exist to transform mortals from a state of suffering and ignorance to a state of enlightenment and bliss.”

~ Deepak Chopra

*****

{Alchemists}

Photo: Les Rebelles / Tanya Lee Markul.

By Alise Versella.

The night is quiet despite all the world’s madness.

We roll across the open road like bummed out beatnik travelers.

The only constant is this open road,

So come, Camerado, give me your hand

And travel the open road with me.

Our arms outstretched to meet the tar,

Hot and steamy under the non-air-conditioned car -

Tires sputtering, raggedly breathing in

The exhaust exhalation of this midnight hitchhikin’.

The blades of grass quiver like arrows shot from a bow,

Sent out long and far to coasts East and West then back again.

We soak up the sea salt as it permeates our skin.

Come, my friend, let us be lovers again -

Drunk on the breath of life itself as it’s injected into our veins like Benzedrine,

High on the rolling hills and dipping low into valleys to find the only road there is,

Intertwined in the madness of all the world’s restless souls,

Getting lost en route to Mexico.

No regard for the amount of miles traveled,

Here we’re lookin’ for no exits -

Only entrances,

Looking for those massive steelworks

That bridge the gaps in our forsaken hearts

And merge our souls wholly,

The gravel roads, the dirt roads,

Newly paved -

The white lines blurring

Like the sun as it fades into the night.

Let’s take to those roads not yet discovered;

Keep driving until the sun and moon cease to emanate such light -

Light that keeps us at some common goal.

Indignant and rebellious, we take to the road,

Never ceaseless in our amazement

Of the beauty created indifferently

Without might of man -

Out of the sheer will of

Nature’s bountiful harvest.

*****

 

Alise is the author of Five Foot Voice and Onion Heart. Born in Staten Island and raised in southern NJ, she enjoys Indie music, live concerts, Barnes and Noble, and considers herself a dessert whore and coffee enthusiast. You can visit her at AliseVersella.com.

*****

 {The Open Road.}

Photo: Google Images.

By Janine Marie.

May this be the year we surrender to our hearts.

May we know ourselves beyond our public personas, our wounding, our barriers and our masks.

May we touch our authenticity without fear, and experience the beauty of our soul in all of its grandeur.

May this be the year we see, not with our eyes, but with our hearts.

May we embrace our brilliance, our darkness and our deepest desires.

May we have compassion for ourselves, and others, for all that we are and all we are not.

May we honor our humanity without shame or judgement.

May this be the year we are captivated by our own boldness.

May we laugh boundlessly, cry effortlessly, love outrageously, and kiss passionately.

May this be the year we understand we are all connected.

We are the love we are searching for.

*****

Janine Marie is a self-proclaimed adventurous, fiery redhead. Believer of dreams, seeker of all things sensual, passionate spiritualist, Tantric explorer, desire activist, and embodiment junkie. She is seduced by laughter, wine by the ocean, nights in the city, and exploring desire. Writing is her portal for expressing the most intimate inner musing of her soul and believes that life is an art form to be lived boldly with pure authenticity.  You can find Janine on Facebook on Awakening Maya ~Lifting the veils of illusion through embodied spirituality.

 

*****

{Search No More}

Photo: Google Images.

Tight lipped, jaw locked,

you move through each motion

waiting.

You wait for the pose to pass,

the class to end;

for the fun stuff to come,

and life to begin.

But what if you opened your mouth,

expanded your breath,

let expectation go?

What if you let yourself go?

Let yourself be moved by the beauty of the moment.

This one.

That one -

yep, the beautiful one that just passed.

Nope, it won’t ever be here again.

It’s gone.

Gone like your children’s hold-me-closer days.

Gone like your mother’s health.

Gone like your marriage’s teenage-love-affair ways.

But, this one here -

feel it.

Breathe it in.

Bask in it.

Ah, yes,

isn’t it beautiful?

You can’t feel it?

Your core avoids your stubborn ways?

It takes time to reconnect with what you so long ago shut down.

See your thigh that won’t stop shake shake shaking.

Let that motion move you, perhaps even break you.

Stop waiting for what’s next.

What if what you’re waiting for never comes to pass?

Waste no more time waiting.

Be here now.

With me.

With you.

With every moment in between.

*****

 {With Rebelles.}

Photo: Be Photography LLC – BEPHOTOGRAPHY.NET

“Dance, when you’re broken open. Dance, if you’ve torn the bandage off. Dance in the middle of the fighting. Dance in your blood. Dance when you’re perfectly free.” - Rumi

It is a matter of choice.

All life is simply that… choices and understanding that the outcome may not be exactly what you were expecting, yet it is for the best.

If you lose all that you had, a new beginning starts and obviously the old way wasn’t working… Clean up and out… moving on forward.

Scary to think of your life as being gone… like losing a job, a spouse, a house… a child or even a dream.

Remember that all things are temporary experiences.

I understand it is hard to know this when your heart is on the ground, your mind feels like jello or when your eyes reflect your mind’s blank stare. In time, tears will release and wash away the pain, resistance and surfaced resentments of the past.

Breathe: witness your world for a moment. Breathe: slowly and knowingly that all is fine.

Anxiety and tension can take you two ways… forward and frozen. I suggest going forward and not clinging to that moment or thought.

Paralyzing fear can happen easily due to the overwhelming pressures of day to day living. When these moments arrive, an opportunity for a reality check appears…laugh and break fear a part. Use your sense of humour to create a new perspective.

We are indeed magical and have the opportunity of choices.

Whatever we choose, there is an opportunity for us to understand ourselves a little better… and with this, we grow.

We grow into the truth of all we truly are and can be… we become friends with our experiences. Diving into the merriment of decisions, determination will guide us to that right place, the right time, to right people… and away from the feeling of  loss.

The sun, the moon and those brothers and sisters of ours, the stars, know the way. When we look up and within, we know too.

“Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing… there is a field. I’ll meet you there. When the soul lies down in that grass the world is too full to talk about.” – Rumi

*****

 {Look Up.}