In this video I share my thoughts on Mytae Garcia’s new book, The Most Beautiful Life: My Life With Prince. Let’s talk about how even magical, powerful people can get programmed and loose their spark because of trauma and hardship. Also your spirit guides don’t have to be boring!
Do you know I have a podcast? These are just SOME of the beautiful voices in our episodes.🐞 We talk about unrequited love, 🍾 interview my ex’s, destroy lesbian stereotypes 🍭, discuss widowhood 🥀and celebrate sluts and sex positions. In our latest episode meet an ex gang member and graffiti artist turned doctor.🌺 Click the link in bio and navigate to our podcast link. Check us out on iTunes and Google play too! @muscletestingdoctor @ktboyden #loverequited #loverequitedxxxtcetera #lotuslanternhealingarts #reverendlilianabarzola #appliedkinesiology #graffiti #lesbianstereotypes
Nope, I certainly am not.
However, I am a messenger and I am a wounded healer.
Lots of people are reaching out to us and asking, “WTF is happening right now?!?! Things are cray, cray!”
Personally: Nuthin’ but transformation and heart ache around these here parts.
So I’m sharing some resources for those of you who are struggling so hard you can’t even reach out. If you are doing great and life is smooth, I bet you are still seeing people struggling around you:
Check out my brother-friend Robert Ciprian’s Post from this week:
(***Spoiler alert! Next podcast features Dr. Ciprian: From gang banger to healer-doctor. It will be published later this week.)
I love the famous CHANI who offers this bite-sized explanation: “The new moon in Pisces arrives on March 17th at 6:12 AM PT. Sitting in a conjunction to Chiron, the Wounded Healer, this new moon asks us to be tender with what hurts. Forgiving with what we can. Compassionate with ourselves as we work through sensitive issues and life events. Shortly after the new moon, Mercury station’s retrograde challenging us to get our messages across with accuracy and efficiency.”
Now I offer an opportunity to go even deeper. My astrologer friend, Sarah Fontaine, doesn’t offer sound bites: She offers deep poetry. Before you read anything by her, I ask you to watch this 10 minute video. Can you turn off your neon brain that wants a quick fix and really listen to her poem? This started as a job-description for the person she needed to hire for her pre-school center. It will resonate so much for you if you let it steep.
After you watch, I encourage you to click here and read her horoscopes. You can use them to help re-focus your energy.
At some point, we all feel like we don’t fit in. That we don’t belong. That everyone is laughing and we don’t get the joke.
Ironically, this is what unites us all as humans. The feeling that we’re ‘the other.”
My parents emigrated from Argentina to the United States. White culture saw me as the Other and let me know. Argentine culture saw me as Gringa and let me know.
I am dyslexic. I spent years testing high in comprehension but had an extremely low reading level. My teacher would be 4 steps ahead of me; I was still stuck on step one.
As a teenager, I read lesbian sci-fi novels and dreamed about being with women. As a feminine woman, I felt rejected by butch lesbian culture. I felt unattractive to women. I got the message that, if I didn’t have short hair, boots and flannel, I would never have a female partner. I liked high heels, lipstick and everything pink, so I was doomed.
Oh, and another thing… I am a psychic. A profession that certainly makes you the Other. How can a charlatan be respected when you are out in the world certainly duping people?
But when you spend your life feeling like you don’t fit in, you learn to recognize and help your fellow travelers.
In the early 2000’s I was a little, baby psychic and many LGBTQ humans sought out my services. They wanted to work on their emotions and process their identity but the world of psychology hadn’t caught up to their consciousness level yet. One night, I dreamed that my first client was a man named George, but he was also a woman. It was a really powerful and healing dream. I woke up the next morning, went to work and walked into a waiting room full of all men and one person who appeared to be a woman. I walked right up to the “woman” and said, “Are you George?” I cannot tell you the joy on George’s face when he was seen as he truly was for the first time.
I strongly identify with people who feel oppressed by our modern day neon culture. The things that make me weird and quirky are also the things that make me a great healer.
Nobody here at Lotus Lantern Healing Arts fits in. We are all The Other. So we’re a safe place for you to be who you truly are.
-Rev. Liliana Barzola
To those of you reading these and emailing me: Thank you for all the awesome support and feedback! I hope you are doing well. email@example.com
We rescued a puppy! Bri feels as though we are the caregivers of a soul brought to this earth by the people of Warm Springs, Oregon.
He has had a very dark beginning. The story of his rescue begins with a late night call to the shelter. A litter of puppies was born on the Warm Springs Reservation in the cold Central Oregon brush. The caller didn’t want the rescuers to come until the next morning. Sadly, that cold night swept most of his litter into the astral. Our puppy and one other were the only survivors by the time the rescuers arrived. When I hear stories like this it just makes me want to cry.
Instantly, I have a million questions:
“Why didn’t they let the animal shelter staff come right then?”
“Why didn’t the staff insist on coming to get the pups?”
“Why was such violence and ethically backwards practices wielded against such a powerful and magical group of people forced away from their land and “placed” onto “reservations”.
“Why did no-one see the repercussions of such a violation of the human spirit…”
“Why is such uninformed design still defended to this day?”
Questions like these do not find me complete, succinct answers. But it’s what my brain does (unhelpful, obsessive, problem-solving) when I feel traumatized. Don’t you want to go back in time with me to fix all the problems? Since we can’t do that; we attempt to go in reverse by looking forward. In essence we enter a twisted, unrealistic, convoluted circle track.
As I snuggle my puppy in the warmth of our home I soothe my heart a bit. I was terrified of dogs until I was 35 years old. My beautiful St. Bernard came into my life, quite on accident and this was my first understanding of dog medicine. 2018 is the Chinese Year of the Dog. The dog is the loyal protector of the heart.
One of the strengths in my relationship with my beloved is our ability to accept each other as we are. This also means we support each other’s outrageous and spontaneous: “Great Ideas”. For example: “Hey let’s create a class on dysfunction and how to manage yourself through the really tough, twisted moments of life, based on the Joan of Arc archetype!” Today is the last day to join this latest group! Click here to learn more.
ME: I need a puppy
BRI: Absolutely not. No way. Not ever.
But when Bri heard the call of the puppy she answered for us both.
He wasn’t at all what we wanted. But then we saw his name was North.
Like our true north, our direction. We needed this during a dark period of grief and loss.
Then, she brought him home. He is amazing. Also he refuses to pee or poop outside…
North has a magical relationship with his elder dog, Frye. Frye is Bri’s therapy dog. He has been to work with her in the field and in the office for 10 years and counting. We didn’t expect these two to become instant friends. Can you see the love in his big dog eyes?
I know I keep saying this over and over, but wow times are intense right now!
I am re-sending this meditation I created right after Trump got elected because <holy shit> I think it is relevant. Click here to listen
In the past 15 days I have gotten so much bad news, that I have wondered how I will survive it all. I have been remembering deep points of pain, loss and disappointment from my past, and all the bad relationships in love and friendship that have gone wrong. I know this is eclipse seasons but holy fuck!
My saving grace is: MY WORK.
My work keeps me solid and grounded on ever shifting terrain. I get to sit with people in trauma and grief and let them know they are not alone. It always feels magical. When I get to midwife their transformation it is epic. My work keeps me honest. I don’t ever get lost in a world of Kardashian Instagram posts. I know the truth. We are all struggling. Especially those who look and act put together.
When I sit with a client, I have no lighting in a bottle. I have no answer for why their life has turned into shit. But I have space to hold and information on how to help them move forward.
My kids keep me be real too. In moments when I want to freak out, I realize I need to speak and act consciously because their little souls and hearts are absorbing my process into their own. I create little rituals to keep me sane in insane parenting moments. For instance, when I am intensely frustrated with one of my kids, I usually start singing instead of yelling. They are either young enough to find the light and humor in this, so that they join in, and we shift the energy together. Or they are old enough to be embarrassed by my singing and they start to behave in the hopes I will shut up.
Each morning when I drop my daughter off at school: It scares me. I am handing her over. I think all the time about the gun and safety issues we have here in American schools. It is so disgusting that we have to worry about this.
So I have a ritual I do when I drop her off.
Each morning when I see her walking away, I feel the fear building up in me. I want to shout things to her like, “If you see a man with a gun at school today hide!”
Instead I shout things like:
Stay away from unicorns!
Watch our for blueberries!
Don’t fall into a popcorn swamp!
I hear her giggling into the school building and I say a little blessing that she will be exactly that way when I pick her back up.
Over this next week I am planning to send out a little bit of writing about the things that live in the shadows.
You know how you see all that gross sludge and slime when you replace a filter? I’m thinking about my human filter.
When my filter get so flooded by what I see and experience in the world (#trumpadministration #metoo) I stop being able to take any information in. I can’t even take in positive things because the permeable mechanism that separates good and evil is no longer functioning. In the name of self preservation there are times that I have opted for a total system shut-down.
Do you feel me?
Is your filter clogged with slime?
Has your health been contaminated by darkness?
If so, you are not alone. We can band together to keep from being re-programmed by darkness.
When the presidential reins pass to the next administration (whenever that happens) we need to be ready with our sparkling new filters, so we can navigate our way to open pasture. But we can’t wait for another administration to take over, right? We aren’t going to be saved. We can’t wait for equality, empowerment or diversity of thought. Saving ourselves means making our moves right now, by showing up locally, being present and vocal.
Begin where you begin. We need to build and harness collective momentum so that just as a cartoon character jumps and gets their legs going in mid- air to PREPARE for the all out sprint, we also can be free to take off in a moments notice when the time is right.
What does my Joan of Arc Series have to do with water filters, cartoon athletes, and the dysfunctional slime that has been running rampant in our everyday environments? See Figure J below:
Joan of Arc provides the filter.
LET THERE BE LIGHT
I live in a VERY conservative, religious, judgmental small town. And guess how much showing up I have to do as a woman of color in love with another woman? A lot!
Liliana at the bookstore: I’m listening to a teenage girl try in earnest to explain a Malcolm Gladwell podcast that she found enlightening to two teenage boys who are so indoctrinated in misogyny they can’t understand her experience. She is wildly more intelligent and mature beyond her years. It is painful watching what gets reflected back to her via these two bozos. She is unseen. I smiled at her knowingly. I see her. I know what she’s talking about. She smiles back, her mood changes. She knows I see her. On my way out I see another teenage girl wearing a hat that says, “Nasty Woman”. (Something that would make my friend Roxanne Jackson so proud.) She is sitting behind the counter and listening to music on her headphones. She is making a statement. Our eyes meet and she gets my second smile. She smiles back at me with full teeth and full pride. This is our movement and these are the simple ways we keep the momentum going. The kids out here are openly struggling to follow their hearts and I’m here to see them and encourage them, with my presence and my voice.
Liliana at the hardware store: They just re-opened the hardware stores. It’s been closed for a year. That is a really bad thing to not have access to in a sleepy, snowy mountain town. There I am walking hand in hand with my lover. Many people are staring nervously at us. My partner sees a man eyeing barbecues and starts to give him some advice, when another man comes into the conversation who most likely has never barbecued, cutting her off and taking over entirely. I watch as Bri is suddenly ignored, disrespected and unseen. She is such a big and powerful person to see her with these idiots makes my blood boil. I watch her strength elevated in her ability to walk away calmly, knowing she can cook better than both of them put together. Ha, Ha! We aren’t leaving. We shop here and we still make our presence seen and known to the bigoted shoppers. It takes daily courage to be here.
I know you are making a difference too. You are not alone. We out number them. We have power. They try to force. May the power of the force be with us.
Trapped in the turmoil of a dark, oppressive dream, I woke to the sound of my own screams.
I could feel my partner’s voice and presence trying to break through but couldn’t locate her or myself in the moment. Was she in the dream time or on earth? Am I in the dream or on earth?
We were both sleeping at a friend’s house on our recent trip to Vermont. As the earthly room came into view, I catapulted myself into her arms, gasping for air and sobbing.
“Honey, you are dreaming. You are okay. You are safe,” she said calmly and firmly.
I couldn’t speak. 80% of me was still in the astral trauma zone. With the air hunger, all I could muster was, “I NEED my mountain air. I Can’t breathe.” I longed for our little cabin in the woods back home in my mountains.
“We have that here too,” Bri said calmly. She thrust open the window with a whipping force and gently pressed my entire body towards the window tilting my head into the fresh mountain air. I’m not light as a feather but in her arms it feels like it. She is all muscle, brute force and soft flannel against me. I breath in delicious salvation. Oh my! Thank the goddess, she’s right!
“I was dreaming about my mom,” I told her. “She was horrible to me in it. She was shaming me and telling me what a horrible daughter I was. It was a terrible, horrible feeling. My real mother would NEVER, EVER say those things to me.”
My mother has been dead 14 years. I still miss her. She was a nurturing and kind woman. The kind of selfless mother people dream about. And when my baby was 1 year old and I was 23, she died suddenly of an aneurysm. Sadly, I diagnosed her bleeding brain, but it was too late for her at that point. My postpartum process, new motherhood and her death were all tangled together for me from this point forward.
As my heart pace slowed, my breath deepened, my voice returned. I was trying to scramble out of the pain. Bri held me closely as I cried.
“Why would you get such a terrible dream about her? That is so unfair.” Bri protested. Bri is my “why” person. She is religiously committed to justice and fairness on earth and everywhere else. She never stops asking “why”. And her “why’s” are passionate. These are never soft questions, they are forceful, inquisitive commentary. This world will be a better place while she’s here. She commands it so. It’s sweet and also heartbreaking when I don’t have a clear answer for her or myself. Why the fuck do I finally get a dream about my mother and it’s a totally abusive pile of shit?!?!?
So here is the best explanation that I can give for “why” this happens. When a loved one transforms from their earthly body to the astral realm it’s like they are going home. Many native cultures believe that we are visiting from the dream-time (astral). That the dream time is the “real world”. The astral realm is a literal blueprint for our physical realm (what I call University Earth). This means that we are thought of and formed in the astral as a blueprint and then manifest to earth. Energy follows intention and then becomes matter. If you are building a home you start from a blue-print, you sketch it out. Then you build it. The universe is exactly this.
So when you wake up each morning on earth you are coming back from your time in the astral. You do your morning rituals, then have your coffee or tea and are fully here. Well, imagine that in the death process your spirit wakes up fully in the astral realm just in the same way.
When a person dies most of their energy lifts into the astral and some of their denser energy takes longer to process and lift up. This is why ancient cultures cremate bodies, to help the spirit lift up easier. This is why so many cultures spend so much time praying and helping those going home. It helps the living and the dead to do this. Home is not a foreign place. It is a loving and familiar place. You don’t lose your personality, your being or your favorite ice cream flavor. You are still you. Suddenly, you find that you can be in many places at once. On earth you can’t be in many places at once. (Unless you are on the internet, but don’t even get me started on the internet and telepathic communication. We will be here all day!)
So in the case of my nightmare, a part of my mother was still here trapped; a dense and unconscious part of her soul hadn’t lifted up. I ran into it. It was a real bitch to me. But this allowed my to mother to locate her lost part (with my help) and so I spent the rest of the night crying, praying and asking my mother’s true soul self (the enlightened part of her) to come clean up the mess and integrate that portion of her that was angry back into her entirety.
The second part to this, is that there is a real battle that goes on between the dark and the light on earth and in the astral realm. (Like Donald Trump) This is why it’s so important to understand the veil between the astral and physical realms and not fall prey to the shadow (see previous parenthesis). The darkness wants me to believe I am worthless, that my mother doesn’t love me, etc. However, I know that is a lie. So it takes me deeper into meditation to understand why I am dreaming this stuff up.
In my B-Boundaries class we talk about the astral and physical realms and how they fit together.
We also work heavily with guardians and protectors so that you have a team to call in. I was lucky to have my conscious, physical partner there with me. But I knew also, how to call in my team of guardians. You will too if you join in class B-Boundaries Click here to learn more. It starts this Thursday! (The pre-req is class A-Alignment.)