Come Home to Yourself

I thought it was about time to write a blog titled with the tag line of this page.

Come Home to Yourself.

I’m finding that today, it means something different than my original intent.

Today I mean to say, you can come home to the safety within, even when you’ve traveled far away from there for too long.

For a period of time, I felt like I’d disappeared. The parts of me that liked to laugh and be silly. The parts of me that felt worthwhile.

I’d walked through hell’s valleys for too long, and my skin seemed to be stained with ash and sut.

I wondered if I would ever be myself again, or if a ‘new me’ would emerge.

I’m coming together as old, new, and weathered and refreshed all in one.

I remember the aching in my bones as I dragged my body through those valleys. I also feel the life inside those bones, rebuilding and remembering joy and vitality.

My personality is awakening, witty banter emerging from within like a newly erupted spring.

And I think, ‘Oh, there I am.’

I’m coming home…

To my personality. My fun. My playfulness.

Finding importance in the trivial things in life reminds me that I’m alive, I’m a ‘me’.

I’ve never been more grateful to care about silly things. Which barrettes to wear today, whether my outfit was put together well.

I’m coming home with stories woven into my flesh of where I’ve been, how I’ve healed, and with new eyes to see the world.

I’m thankful for these eyes, and this flesh, and all the parts of me that are coming together to rebuild and reawaken.

If you’ve been away for too long, make your way back home. Slow or fast, whatever works. Home is waiting for you. The parts of you that are full of wonder and joy are alive and well. They’ll welcome you with open arms.

And I’ll see you there.

<3,

Heba

I Am Not Myself [A Poem]

I am not myself,
I am the echo.
I am the echo,

Awakening
Revising
Revisiting
Reimagining.

I am not myself,
I am the gathering

     of that which has come before.

I am the echo

     of remembering.


The mutitude of layers

     of remembering.

I am the awakening of right into wrong,
And wrong into right.

I am the witness.

I am loss. I am birth.

I look into the experience, as I am.
A wave of endless memory.
I watch with pain trembling in my bones.

I am the witness.

I am the memory of suffering.

I am suffering, desiring to heal itself.

It says, “let me look again, with new eyes. Let me understand again, with a renewed heart.”

I am the broken, seeking to stand again.

Splintered wooden legs, striving to be remade.

I am the light of the sun, laying its warmth upon the earth.

I am the shadow, the cold of fear and emptiness.

I peer into life, I am nothing.

I am the retelling of a story. I am the weaver of new memory. I am the witness.

I carry the sorrow that’s come before, heavy on my spirit. I carry it close to my heart.

I look into the world through the sorrow of memory.

Shapes of pain and shadow erupting into form and dissapating. My sorrow reminds me of the memory from which I was born into this world.

My sorrow says “this is how we saw the world”.

I think of those that came before, that saw the world colored with darkness.

I say, “I see you. I understand.” I carry their weight as I look with my own eyes.

I see what they saw, I see fear. I look again.

I feel what they felt, I feel pain. I look again.

I see strength where there was silence. I see hope where there was emptiness.

I stand, exhausted. Pen in hand, shakily writing a new story. One small sentence, in a book that has no beginning and no end.

One small sentence at a time. One small re-write. One revision. One re-envisioning.

My voice is small, amongst the raucous cries of the past. My pen is small. My sentences are small.

My voice is small.

And yet, I’ll stand. I will witness.

Underneath the weight of generations of memory, I will write.

With every rewrite, a small path begins to open. A way. A chance. An opportunity.

Shadowlands

I walked the perimeter of the park, my body felt heavy, my mouth was agape, and tears awkwardly streamed down my cheeks as I stumbled down the dirt path.

I felt unpossessed. A body wobbling forward, lost of itself.

I said to myself, “I don’t know what to Be. I don’t know what to think.”

And then I suggested to myself, “Then just be nothing. Be the air. Be presence. Be empty of thought.”

I said, “Ok.”

I continued forward. Walking with my unpossessed body. Frankenstein footsteps jolting forward beneath my torso.

I looked out onto the river and I kept breathing. Mouth agape, body feeling heavy.

I let my eyes follow the curves and splashes of the water as it rushed foreward, graceful and full of itself.

I followed its path.

*Down this way.*

And so I went.

Inhaling, exhaling. Breathing pain and agony. I was the rusty, heavy, iron chains dragging in the mud behind a pickup truck.

Inhaling, exhaling.

The path turned to the right, at the mouth of the river.

I stopped to take it in. I stepped onto a wooden platform and looked across its width. I let the weight of my body sink into the wood.

And I stayed.

I melted.

Like metal sitting too long in a hot furnace.

I took a deep breath and I felt lighter. I remembered…

‘These are the shadowlands.’

I’d been walking through the dark patches of inner turmoil and misery. Entangled in confusion and loss. With nowhere to go, and no sense to be made.

Don’t turn back.

Body heavy, misery scraping along skin. Breathe. Keep walking. These are the shadowlands. And they must be walked.

Just up ahead, the light returns. Don’t turn back. Stay with the breath. Just up ahead, the light returns.

Just up ahead, you’ll remember. Just up ahead, the light is ready and waiting.

I broke away from the mouth of the river and returned to the path. My feet felt light. My body held itself upright, breathing deep and sure.

We’d made it out.

Another trip through the shadowlands. And here I am, whole again.

Here I am, remembering that I’m on purpose. I’m part of a breath that is much larger than my understanding. I am lit from within by a flame that’s vaster than the universe itself. I am home, and I am whole. It can’t be any other way.

The air I breathe is the most nourishing, here in this present moment, where I am on purpose. I am held by the earth and known by the trees and the birds that surround me.

Because we are all on purpose, right here and right now. Lit by the same flame. Breathed by the same breath.

Don’t turn back. Walk until you are home again. Home is always waiting.

With Love,

Heba ❤

The Folds of Mystery

[A Love Letter]

I am a seeker down to my very core. I’ve followed the path of intrigue down the darkest passages of misery, thirsty for understanding and knowledge.

I’ve learned that in my ability to read so deeply, lies also the fountain of my undoing. Side by side, like two sides of a coin, stand my greatest strength and love and my most pronounced misery.

The breath between is what saves me. And that breath is called, “choice”.

I stumbled into this world, my heart belonging to spirit. I listened inside the words of prayer and felt into the sound of rushing water. And there I could hear the breath of life itself. I was a devotee to energy, to the rising and falling of spirit’s breath.

I would say, “yes, I’ll follow.”

The loud sounds of society and complex relationships constantly hammering at my door of peace and devotion. And as I turned to look, I saw demons and angels twisting and turning inside of those I loved. I saw pain glorified and love trampled like a line of ants charging across a busy sidewalk.

My peace was not welcomed and my love was irrelevant. This world seemed to love pain. And so I followed. I obliged this desire for pain. I said, “I’ll follow this pain, I’ll align with it – as it calls.”

Ever devoted, following the passageways of fear, self-hatred, confusion, and disharmony. And inside, my love still bloomed. Its flowers pushing up against the inside of my world, desiring to break free.

“I see you, Love. I’ll find a way to bring you here.”

I traveled for years and years, searching for a place where my Love could live free. And I found the perfect place. Carefully and lovingly cultivated air and land. I scooped its soil into my hands and breathed in its air, as deep as I could. I was home.

Inside the folds of colors and shapes and words, there was the silence of Choice.

Just beyond the reach of my reasoning and my ability to collapse waves into words, there was peace. The space of silence. Inside the folds between the motion of following, and the rising of energy. A space. This space says, “breathe.” It says, “here.” It says, ” – – – “.

And in this, ” – – – “, is me. The breath behind choice. The witness. That which Is. It is unmoving. It stands in silence and breathes in the glory of the present moment.

It’s as though you dove inside of a singular moment of a hummingbird drinking sweet nectar. Where time slowed into a place where it became non-time. Un-time. The untying. And nothing else existed besides the Experiencer experiencing sweet nourishment.

And the bird is not a bird, is it the “I am”. Set into the environment of “Now, this.” Participating in the act of “Together”.

This place cannot be understood, but it is the place from which vision emerges. It jumps into experience from This Place like a grasshopper off of a trampoline. We see the surge, but we cannot see where it came from.

We can rest into this space, this space beyond words and understanding. We can relax into it, but as we reemerge into the world’s specifics, we take on something else. We move into Choice.

The bed on which life’s concepts are expressed, is the bed of the unknown. It is the non-space from which vision springs forward into meaning.

We’re not meant to go into this non-space to discover the specifics of this life. What we’re supposed to be doing, who we’re supposed to love, what we’re supposed to look like. It is not meant to be the place where life-meaning is created within the confines of concepts and stories.

This life-experience is where meaning is created. This is where stories are told. This is where concepts are realized into shapes and color.

Relaxing into the non-space helps you remember this. That you are not anything that you think you are. You are nameless, genderless, faceless, and you desire for very little. And you aren’t meant to stay in this nothing-less of identity. You’re meant to choose Life and all the specifics that come with it.

You do not choose with mind projections. The veins of choice are hidden. You can only uncover Choice moment by moment. In the quiet place between stimulus and response. Where you observe the happenings of life, as well as your response to them.

And moment by moment, bringing breath into that response to life. Not fixing, not forcing, not coercing or planning. Rather: looking, feeling, breathing, listening. And from this, that jump or surge of Choice will come to you.

This is how you discover “who you are”. Eternally known as, “who you choose to be”.

You do not know who you choose to be. So let go of trying to paint the picture of “you”. You cannot. You can only discover who you choose to be, moment by moment. Erupting out of the folds of mystery.

I am a seeker down to my very core. And when I touch up against this place of mystery, this place that collapses all of my tools and vehicles for understanding – I blissfully retire my charge. My mission of understanding softens and liquefies in the presence of the majesty of life.

And I’m so grateful. So grateful to discover, solve, and understand and grateful to let all of the wisdom rain back into the seas of nothingness. To return it all to the majesty and mystery of this great, unknowable experience.

“Thank you for the mystery that you are. Thank you for letting me peak behind the veils and then let go of everything I think I’ve learned. What a beautiful blessing it is, to find the most beautiful pearls in all of the world’s waters, and then to let them all go again. This is love.”

With Love,

Heba

❤

Calling Home.

In my readings, I am channeling (translating energy) for people. They’re channeling too, we all are. We are emitting a signal and then translating that signal into Meaning.

What makes spiritual readings, or divination special then? Why is there an interest in this type of work?

Channeling (the way I do it) is meant to connect with the best information that is available to be received by the recipient. This means I have to go to the best possible frequency and “see” things from that perspective.

In our every day world, we may shake our fist up at the sky, desperate for answers. “Show me!” “Guide me!”

We may drop to our knees in futility, hoping for a gentle light to lull us back into warmth and safety.

Why don’t the answers come? Why do we translate energy into seeming riddles, why do we gather signs and clues as to what the universe is trying to tell us?

I remember once saying into the Nothingness, “If you’re so great, why can’t you just give me a straight answer? Why does it have to be so esoteric? Why can’t you just show me the way, why can’t you give me what I want? If the universe is so abundant, why is it so hard to get this thing I need?”

I enjoyed this release of frustration and confusion. And it compelled me to ponder those very questions.

I looked out into the fields of nothingness, and I followed where the answers led. I saw that there are seldom straight answers because we do not live in a straight reality. It curves into itself everywhere you look. It exemplifies itself as it sees itself. As you look to understand, you translate energy into the meaning of the understanding you seek.

When the universe speaks, it speaks as Many. One word, one voice, that expresses into a ray of infinity. Imagine the answer coming to you through the sun’s rays. And where ever the light touches, it speaks your answer.

Life gives you answers by showing itself to you, and this expression is everywhere you look, because life is everywhere you look. You cannot say, “yes but ignore everything else and just answer me from somewhere else.”

As though life would part the seas of that which-it-is and in the static of nothingness, bring to you a singular vision.

Oh wait, it does do that! That happens all the time too. But where are you when it happens? Usually immersed in the very life you’re trying to disregard to see “truth”.

And so the spirit of life follows you around, answering your questions through demonstration and through visions. And where are you? Where is the receiver?

There is no answer that hangs, solitary and independent from you. Every answer is a collaboration. It needs you to translate it, to give it meaning. And it exists in many varieties, depending on where and how you are translating it. Every message needs a receiver.

Do not search for the message. It cannot be apart from You, its receiver. It’s better to ask, “what am I really wanting, what is it I’m really asking for?” and “With which mind am I translating the response?”

Look to see, who is the You that is translating the message? Do you feel light, buoyant and joyful? Yes, then you’ll receive a version of that message that relates to that state of buoyancy. What happens when you are heavy once again? Once stress and listlessness have descended upon you.

Is that message still applicable? Has the message changed?

Seek nothing, because now you know that all you seek is dependent upon the Receiver.

When I channel in a reading, where am I going? Am I going into your bitterness, your sadness, your limitation? Am I staying in those places and speaking to you the message of Life from those places? No.

I can go far, far away from the places that feel the most heavy and remind you of your light. Even better, I can swoop down a bit and find a middle ground between the lightest of light and the most dense. Looping and weaving in efforts to direct your attention to Something Better.

We are master translators of energy. It is all that we’re doing here really, all of existence is expression and translation. And so when there is discomfort in a translation it’s easy to say, “well, look somewhere else. Translate something else.”

Why is it hard to shift that attention?

The answer is also easy. The translation of energy implies harmonization. When you harmonize with a vibration or frequency, to some extent you Become that vibration. The longer you translate similar frequencies and vibrations, the more you harmonize with them and identify a “part of you” with them.

You don’t just shift your attention easily in some cases because you think part of you is inside that vibrational cluster that you no longer enjoy. That is natural, the identification with something because you’ve vibrated on the same frequency for a long time. Or perhaps came to believe that you were bound to a certain cluster of vibrations.

The truth is, you are not bound to anything that you perceive. Even in what you hate most, there is distance and choice. At the heart of the most hated, is the light of Being. And just in front of that light, a scramble of vibrations. An energy cluster of “meaning”. Streams of thoughts, words, and associations.

The most hated does not exist as much as the beloved does not exist, what “exists” is something far greater. It is the relationship between You and that which you are translating.

Imagine someone you dislike, Who are they? Where do they exist? Are they the light behind, or the cluster of streams that dances before that light?

Hm. But who they are is only that way as you know them. As you give them meaning and association. As you highlight streams within that cluster and translate them through your unique cluster…and so give them a response. A “yes” or “no”.

It follows then, that the most important thing about this person is what you think of them. If you look in their direction and feel repulsed, that is your particular response because of how you are translating whatever you are highlighting in their cluster.

You cannot really “know them”, because their cluster is massive. What you know is what has become highlighted for you, through you. You could say, what I see in you, I don’t like. Is it because of the eyes that are looking or because of what those eyes see? It doesn’t matter.

It matters to say, I see the light that breathes this creation into Being. I see the cluster of streams that is enlivened by this breath, and how that cluster dances with a rhythmic ebb and flow. And I see myself, I see how when I connect with this dance, I don’t like it. I don’t want to dance with it.

How beautiful then is the story of a beloved? Then you say as you gaze at a person or an experience: I see the light that breathes this creation into Being. I see the cluster of streams that is enlivened by this breath, and how that cluster dances with a rhythmic ebb and flow. And I see myself, I see how when I connect with this dance, I love it! I want to dance with it until we’re spinning at the speed of light in this joyful exchange.

Do you look into the cluster of that which you don’t like and try to uncover an answer? Do you stare into the abyss of futility and hope for light to re-emerge? Or do you move your gaze to where the light already exists? Do you lend your heart to what is light and buoyant, or do you let it sink with heaviness and hope that the darkness will resuscitate its life?

You are a translator of energy. You are not bound to anything. You are a Chooser. A Selector. And when the heaviness comes, or the confusion, or the desperation for an answer – please remember, “I am Choice itself.” Invoke Choice. It is your power.

As you feel worn down or exhausted or sorrowful, please remember that you have the power of Choice. Say to yourself, “I am choice. I have the power of choice, and I invoke the power of Choice.”

You are not bound to any state of experience, even if you’ve vibrated its frequency in the past. Vibrating a frequency of the Undesired is not a vow of allegiance to such a frequency.

I’d vowed allegiance to all kinds of states without realizing. The state of depression, disappointment, powerlessness, obedience. I vibrated in those places for so long I thought, “oh this must be me. this must be where I live.” But it was a choice all along. I didn’t know.

And life’s unfolding revealed Truth to me once again, “Heba you were always free to choose.”

There are endless, valid reasons why we get “stuck” in feeling states that are undesirable. And when the readiness comes to let go and remember Choice, freedom is here and waiting. The sadness will come and you’ll say, “Oh hello. I must be choosing sadness right now. That’s ok, when I’m ready I’ll choose something else.”

And when you ask for guidance or for an answer you’ll remember, ‘oh I have to choose where I am. Where I am is in direct relationship to the shape of the answer that comes.’

When you call home, when you call to Source, you’ll remember to dial on the clearest line you can find. You’ll say, “I call that which I am, and so that is what will appear.”

And when you’re feeling down you’ll say, “I remember choice, that I am in-Choice. I invoke the power of choice. Choice, remind me of my light. Spirit [self], find me the clearest path. Let me travel by choice to the light that calls.”

Every day, you will become more and more of the magic you seek. Your words will be effortlessly encoded with light and truth. You will walk, not above nor below. You will walk through the fields of shadow and fly in the skies of light, as you live an ordinary, extraordinary life.

A flower will bloom inside your heart and you’ll feed it with love and compassion and movement. And when the heaviness comes, you won’t be afraid. You’ll experience it as a color, as variety, you’ll remember Choice – and even in the heaviness you’ll remember you’re light.

With Love,

Heba

❤