Expression is the remedy for depression – Dr. E: Part 3

My joys,

I am learning so much I wish you were here with me or could come along in my magical basket to listen in. How to translate the language of the heart? Women’s laughter? Brilliant words like liquid poetry?

I had breakfast with a lovely woman from a far away land (very) who spoke of her love for America. There are people from all over the world – 90 of us. She was awestruck to learn that although I voted and organized people that I felt my government did not reflect ‘the people’ and that while I participated I did not think it did much good but we do it anyway. She said, if not the people – then who makes policy and change and justice? All the women at the table said: business. It was truly amazing to sit with her and enjoy coffee in the sunshine and to learn that in her country – people only live in one place their whole life. I told her I moved every year. She wanted to know why – what was the benefit – did we move to where the politics was were better in another city? I told her I move to a better place when I have more money and a worse place when I have less. I told her why I thought America was great — because we are still free to think our own thoughts and make our way in the world if we are able. I told her that the people are what makes the heart of our country great, not our systems. I told her I preferred my freedom to be an artist and to write, to blog, to speak, that I preferred that to health care, although I would prefer both.

I am happy –  that although my heart appears to be in bloody rags I find that my work with the Cosmic Cowgirls and the weaving of Legend is not very far of from working with the psyche in the truest sense of the word — soul. And when she affirmed that expression is the cure for depression well, I breathed a sigh of relief. Not that I doubted but we should all question our assumptions and our research.

While my heart is this wide open – a red canyon – I might as well allow my desire to serve flow through that deep crevasse and see where it flows and where it clogs up. Since my broken heart I find I am less able to walk in the two worlds of self and service the way I used to because I am so concerned with my own preservation I do not travel between the worlds as easily as I did before. I think this week is changing that in me…I desire to become even more available to my calling and to myself and to my loved ones.
And to my relationship with my Blessed Mother. The sacred heart fire is licking at the wounds.

In the teachings here, the words blood, bone, darkness, death, womb, and cave are spoken as common language. Last night we heard the legend of a man who crawled inside of a bear he had just hunted for days, and killed for food because a storm was coming and he could not make the journey home and carry the meat and survive. So he drank the bear blood and crawled inside to sleep in the guts, to weather the storm. Sounds about right.

Suffice to say I love this woman and that it is a dream come true to come and sit at her hem.

Woven in red

Shiloh Sophia