The Cacao Journals: Luminosity

December 7, 2017December 7, 2017 ~ nicole

No matter how long the room has been dark…the moment the lamp of awareness is lit the entire room becomes luminous. You are that luminosity. You are that clear light.

– Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche

I always set an intention for personal cacao ceremony as it informs Spirit of what I would like to receive. Mind you, I don’t always get what I ask for, but I always receive something and it’s always the medicine I need in that moment. And there are times it is so profoundly transforming, I just marvel at the message.

In one of my early journeys with cacao, my intention was to discover who I truly was. I was both curious and in need of knowing. Granted, it was a big intention, one we often ignore in our fast-paced lives or one we struggle to answer. I decided to give it up to Spirit. So as I embarked on my journey with cacao, I asked, “Who am I really?”

What I noticed first was a tingling in my hands, actually more of a “sparkling.” Then my whole body began to glow, and the glow grew and grew, until it filled the entire space with luminous light. It was so exquisitely beautiful and infinite.

The message I received was, “Be your luminous self,” and I wrote these words in my journal, “I am without fear. I am luminous. I am.” I had just experienced my own inner light; and it became a touchstone for me; an indelible, radiant image; a resource state that I could return to again and again even in my darkest moments.

What it allowed me to do–knowing that, at my core, I am the light–was begin to peel back the remaining protective layers that kept me “safe” because I realized that nothing could actually harm or extinguish my inner light. I felt as though I was removing the last chains holding me captive, the last layers hiding my light; it was, as you can imagine, incredibly liberating.

I began to see reflections of this light in people I met, some of whom met light with light (that was incredible), and others, who had turned away from the light and were held captive in their own darkness. I found myself no longer willing to hide or diminish my light. My thinking was if my light is untouchable and infinite, then I can shine it.

In the healing arts, we’re often told to create a luminous egg of light energy around us, so we don’t take on other people’s energy. It’s a form of protection. What I discovered is that I no longer had to pull this energy in to build an “egg;” when I radiated my light, it came from an infinite source.

What’s so beautiful is that this light is in us all. According to Mayan cosmology, we are the light, descended from the stars to which we will return. I happen to be from Orion, according to a Mayan shaman, if anyone is wondering :).

Unfortunately, on this earthly plane, our light is held captive by the protective strategies we took on when we first got hurt deeply. Instinctively, at that first inner wounding, we protected our heart from more hurt; and, out of fear, we hid our light, the essence of who we truly are. Without realizing it, our lives became controlled by fear.

When we begin to realize these strategies are fear-based and are the very thing holding us back from what we truly want and who we truly are, we want to let go, but we’re still afraid because we don’t quite know how.

Seeing a glimmer of your own light is crucial as it’s what will inspire and motivate you to not be afraid, to heal the hurt, and become whole again.

So, how do you see your own light? It starts with being curious, willing to see that you have become your own captor, and opening to receive the message. And it may require some cacao :). Or another catalyst that allows for gentle inquiry, witnessing and inner work.

That’s how I began my own journey, and how I guide my clients to begin theirs.

You are Luminous.

Are you open to seeing and reclaiming your light?

I’d be delighted to have a conversation with you about reclaiming your light. My gift to you for the holidays. Because we all need more light in the world….

Copyright ©2017 Soulscape Coaching LLC

Our shy souls: approach with trust

November 2, 2016 ~ Nicole Gnutzman

Separated from our own souls. We end up living divided lives, so far removed from the truth we hold within that we cannot know the “integrity that comes from being what you are” – Parker Palmer citing Douglas Wood

The soul is shy” shares Parker Palmer in his book, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward and Undivided Life, and rare are those places where it feels safe and supported and seen.

Many of us who care about, and have faith in, the soul believe we came into this world with a pure and perfect one, and that, over time, it hides in fear as the “powers of deformation from within as well as from without” distort it. Gosh, I would hide too if I was being tormented endlessly.

Fortunately, the soul is a resilient little (or not so little) thing, and it bides its time waiting for when it’s safe to come out “toward the light of [its] own wholeness.”

So, what makes for a safe haven for the soul? According to Palmer, it’s “a circle of trust” of supportive and loving acceptance, where we can finally hear our inner truth and listen to the guidance of our inner teacher. It’s where we can talk to the soul through a “third thing”: through poetry, story, music or a work of art that explores a topic the soul wants to approach ever so gingerly.

Gently approaching the soul can take other forms–through transformation coaching, where the coach builds a container of trust to approach the soul indirectly; through ceremony and ritual where we honor the wholeness and interconnectedness of life; through working with our dreams, which are messages from our soul; and through soul path work, which guides us to and through archetypal energies. The soul loves nothing more than beauty, metaphor, imagery, deep meaning, and purpose held lovingly in a sacred container. They are gentle and yet powerful ways to touch and heal the soul.

When approached too directly and before trust has been established, the soul runs away and hides, “afraid that [its] inner light will be extinguished or [its] inner darkness exposed.” So we must tread carefully toward it, honoring its shy nature, its innocence and its light.

My own journey with my soul has been a circuitous one. I could always feels its presence, its “still, small voice”and yet I tuned it out, wanting, and sometimes pretending, to be something that I wasn’t. Extrovert wannabe, who denied the beautiful gifts of her introversion; ‘perfect’ daughter, who hid her wild partying on weekends and got straight A’s during the week (until Calculus came along); and calm, cool, and collected corporate warrior, who was nicknamed the Ice Princess.

I chipped away at the ice for a long time, and as I got closer to my soul, my approach became less direct. My soul, in its small voice, insisted on it. So, through ceremony and my dreams, and opening myself to the slender threads she left for me to follow, I found a warm soul huddling deep within me.

ice-and-snow

Apparently, it’s not so little after all: it’s big and bright and yet gentle and sweet. It can be insistent and a wee bit demanding (I would be too if I hadn’t been listened to for decades), but it always knows what I most need.

I am now a proud, self-proclaimed introvert, who lusciously revels in her alone time, names her imperfections with glee (and laughs), and whose inner light has finally melted all vestiges of that ice…. Hmmm, maybe that’s why I had to move to California from Canada :).

Parker Palmer’s own journey to wholeness has taken a similar path, and I share with deep respect some of his wisdom: being divided from our soul “often seems like the easier choice” but “we pay a steep price” when living a divided life, “feeling fraudulent, anxious about being found out, and depressed” about denying our own selfhood. “A fault line runs down the middle of [our] life…divorcing [our] words and actions from the truth [we] hold in. That’s when things “get shaky and start to fall apart.”

His words touched my soul. May they touch yours in such a way that your soul peeks out from whatever it is hiding behind, and it says, “Hi there, I’m here, can you help me find my way back home?”

Copyright ©2016 Soulscape Coaching LLC

A transformed life

October 9, 2016 ~ Nicole Gnutzman

The soul is greater than anything you ever lost. – Anonymous

So, remember how that Mayan shaman told me it’s now time for me to teach about “death?” Well, that’s a daunting task to be given, and one I’ve been procrastinating about for awhile now, so I am humbly and carefully treading into this dark vale. Consider this an exploration and an offering….

What’s vaguely comforting to me is that I know this subject fairly well, having experienced many symbolic deaths of my own when I began to question my life and who I was. I won’t deny that there were many tears and lots of fear, and a sense of loss and confusion at times, but what I gained in comparison to what I lost is immeasurable. What I found was me and she was waiting for me all along….

Bat spirit animal: symbolizes shamanistic death

In shamanic traditions, a shaman experiences many symbolic deaths before he or she passes the tests, some of which are death-defying, and attains spiritual awakening. In the shamanic world, these tests invite the initiate to question his or her sense of personal identity and old ways of life, and to create a new relationship to life from the void of darkness (often a symbolic grave).

In our more mundane world, we too must experience symbolic deaths in order to live fully into life itself and who we truly are. Fortunately, the tests we face usually don’t push us to the edge of death, but they do, just like the shaman initiate’s, threaten who we believe we are. They make us question our beliefs, fears, expectations, and identity.

When we hold on, out of the fear that letting go of these things (and letting them die) will somehow diminish us, we end up living unconsciously, going through the motions, and being in denial. When we hold on, we are acting from a place of fear and scarcity, and what we then experience and feel is a deep lack in our lives. It takes away our joy.

When we allow the beliefs that limit us, the fears that hold us back, the expectations that cause us to want to be someone we actually aren’t, the masks and the armor we put on to hide and protect ourselves, to die, we open ourselves to transformation. It is only then, when we have let go, that we can create and begin to live into new, life-affirming beliefs about ourselves and life itself.

We need to sit on the rim of darkness and fish for fallen light with patience. – Pablo Neruda

As we go through this vale of darkness, we feel sadness and even grief, and we may feel alone and empty, but what we don’t realize until we’re through it is that what emerges from this void is beautiful–it is powerfully grounded and filled with luminous light and deep wisdom.

What emerges is YOU, the real you, the one who left behind all the “baggage” you carried for so long. It feels good to let go of that which you no longer need. You are lighter. You feel joy again.

Sometimes you, don’t realize the weight of something you are carrying until you feel the weight of its release. – Unknown

Life is always asking us to grow and live into our future. If we resist and hold on, we are denying the symbolic deaths that will lead to our own transformation. And when we resist our destiny, we die to life itself. Just on the other side of darkness is the light, our light.

Copyright ©2016 Soulscape Coaching LLC

Radiant darkness

July 3, 2016 ~ Nicole Gnutzman

One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious. –Carl Jung

I have a confession to make. Probably 50% of the time when I mean to type, “sacred,” I type, “scared” instead. My next confession is that I am not a touch typist, I am a hunt and peck typer, so that may explain why, but I think there’s more to it than that….

There’s something about the deep unknown that scares us (or at least some of us). We’ve been told and taught that the unknown is dark and shadowy; it’s murky and mercurial; it’s a place we should not go. Hence, scary.

And we tend to run from what scares us: from our darkest shadow, from our deepest emotions, from the parts of ourselves we cannot accept. We suppress our anger until it festers and we vent it on the wrong things (and people); we stifle our sadness until our unshed tears dry up leaving us empty of joy; and we deny our fears by trying to control everything and everyone in our lives. When we ignore these darker emotions, we are in danger of falling into a black abyss of depression where no light penetrates or emanates.

Without acknowledging these darker aspects of ourselves–our anger, our sadness and our fears–we aren’t quite complete. These aspects of ourselves don’t, and won’t, go away on their own. They stage a sit in and wait in the dark.

All this talk of shadows and darkness, reminds me of Ursula K. Le Guin’s book (the one many of us read as teens), The Farthest Shore, and Ged, the young wizard, who runs from the shadow he unleashes upon the world. It is not until Ged names his shadow that he is able to face it, to conquer his fear, and merge with it. It is his understanding and ultimately his naming of it that allows him to be whole.

Shadow work is the path of the heart warrior. – Carl Jung

One of my own shadows came to me in a dream, capturing my attention. I was both disturbed and intrigued by it. When he then came to me in meditation, this time in a more demanding way, I was alarmed. When I next meditated I could feel him lurking, so I asked him, “what do you want?” He expressed that he wanted my love.

I knew in that moment that he was an aspect of myself that I had rejected and denied–the free-spirited puer (young male) part of me. When I was able to acknowledge him and his positive energy, he was satisfied and became an energetic quality that I can call upon when young male energy is most needed. He became my ally.

When we choose to look closely at ourselves, most often when we are in a place of despair, we begin to see into our darkness with an honesty and a clarity that shines its light upon it.

If we sit in that darkness, without fighting it, our vision adjusts. And if we sit there long enough to name the shadow that we deny or suppress or ignore, the inner light of our being begins to glow with understanding and compassion, and eventually suffuses the darkness.

Our darkness begets the light. We shine with its radiance. And, as heart warriors, we unmask what scares and reveal the sacred within.

The dark night of the soul

May 27, 2016 ~ Nicole Gnutzman

There is no coming to consciousness without pain….One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious. – Carl Jung

I was always afraid of the dark. Things going bump in the night (which was usually just my big sister under my bed). Where did that fear of the dark come from? From the uncertainty of it, from not knowing what was behind or within that darkness, or from wanting to avoid the darkness of pain or sadness?

My more spiritually minded friends suggested that I “embrace my darkness,” that I “surrender to it.” At the time, I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about. Despite their enthusiasm, the darkness–my darkness–still terrified me.

And I had gotten really good at avoiding it. I pretended it simply wasn’t there. I wasn’t angry or sad or in pain (was I?) or at least I didn’t go looking for it or dwell on it. Life was good. Somehow I thought if I worked hard and knew what I wanted, I was in control of my life.

And then IT happened. Everything I thought I wanted for my small business, the big goal I had been working on for over a year with a business partner, collapsed around me. I was left standing in the rubble, choking on the dust.

The darkness came without me asking it to. I was enveloped in it, I struggled against it at first, and then I just surrendered. What now, I asked? It was my dark night of the soul.

The dark night of the soul comes just before revelation. When everything is lost, and all seems darkness, then comes the new life and all that is needed. – Joseph Campbell

*I must also have a dark side to be whole*. – Carl Jung

I got it. This was the darkness I needed to face, to surrender to. So, I dove into it; I went deep.

I reexamined everything I “knew,” believed, assumed, and thought. I deconstructed myself bit by bit; decoded my dreams, which were full of messages; found a way to laugh at myself; faced and questioned my fears and demons with strength and resolve; made peace with them; and followed the slender threads that appeared before me seemingly showing me the way back to the light.

When I emerged from the dark, I felt like a whole new me. A more loving, compassionate and humble me. One that’s open to possibility, uncertainty and grace. A me that cares deeply about her soul and following its guidance.

Don’t get me wrong, I still have goals and aspirations, but they come from a different place inside of me now–a soul-directed place–and they sure as heck aren’t set in stone. We all know what happens to stone when a bomb goes off. Dust and destruction everywhere.

While I can’t say that I felt like a phoenix rising from the ashes–that was a bit too Icarus-like to me (and we all know what happened to him)–I did feel like a fledgling learning to fly for the first time. My flight was a little precarious and wobbly at first, but the fact that I’m flying again with the jet stream instead of against it is absolutely beautiful and oh, so liberating.