The Journey of Acceptance—Foundations of Inner Peace

How comical is it that we plan?

Life lately has felt like a whirlwind of moments, a tsunami of emotion crashing down on unsteady pavement as the world quakes around it. Times like these are a practice in what it means to embody patience and faith while many are left feeling faithless. In the midst of chaos, we are being asked “how will you keep your peace?” And for those who remember the ways of old, the ways of the mystics, perhaps an even deeper question from Our Creator, “how will you remember me?”

I recall my father teaching me the ancient ways of the prophets, speaking their language to me. In a beautiful tongue I could hardly understand, he proceeded to decipher it to me. Though I was just as young, naïve and unassuming as any young girl would be, I feel now that something deep inside registered this as sound truth to me. Perhaps it was the spirit of my grandmother egging me on, her spiritual roots blooming deeply within my core. Or maybe it was the essence of milk and honey resting upon my tongue after whispering sacred words for the love of God to my soul. A part of me wonders was it the emotional tone that conveyed its seriousness to my psyche? But now I understand that all of my ego’s conceptions, descriptions and explanations do not matter. Because the truth, in all of its covetedness appears now in plain sight to me.

We are each cycling with the pulling of the sun, being dragged by gravity into a singing symphony of remembrance. In the midst of destruction, can we return to our nature, can we find our Creator? Can we live earnestly and speak a word that is good? Can we encourage others to listen deeply and reflect frequently on what is right? Are we allowed to give grace and patience in moments that don’t seem to quite make sense? And allow these moments to bring us a touch of grace, the miracle of wisdom? When we allow ourselves to fall deeply into surrender, into letting what will be, be—we earn the rights of our markers for deep faith. When we listen earnestly before we speak, we are able to witness clearly the truth that is sometimes hard to see. And when we allow ourselves to fail miserably, to hurt fully, we open ourselves to the deepest form of love that ironically comes from grief.

Are you grieving the state of the world as many others are? To be alive to witness times where many wander aimlessly, where we struggle to find a place to stand on shaky ground, to float atop the ark in the newly created sea—have you found a place where you can process your grief? I’ve found that in this space of mass information given to an unassuming audience; to many who can’t help but to obtain the stimulation their mind seeks many are choosing to forgo their peace. Or have begun to forget that peace is even an option for ordinary people such as you and me.

This isn’t meant to be a one-size fits all post for solutions that will bring about a new meaning to tomorrow, a new solution and exercise for world peace. But to let go of all reasoning and simply be. To allow ourselves the grace of processing grief and being open to the lessons that arrive in its place. When grief takes place, we can open our hearts to more patience, kindness and faith than many would be apt to see. And it allows us to become the people we were always meant to be.

My father always quoted to me, “we are the ones we are looking for”. I thought it’d once knew its meaning but now it is truly plain to me. In a space where we can strengthen one another to cry, to hurt, to laugh, to scream, to fuck up and make mistakes while we try to make sense of what is currently happening, we can touch a reservoir of faith and plant its seeds. And this is the blessing of the chaos ensuing that will bring many to finally choose inner peace. 

Your sister,

Jannah

Fatal Attacks of “Imposter Syndrome”

Do we really ever create work that is “original”?

I ask this question after taking a social media sabbatical and having trouble with the process of creation. In my own inner development, I find that some of the tools I had been using as a means of fortifying my creativity had begun to lose its spark. In the reclamation of this spark, I began pursuing meaning, ideas, information and innovations outside of myself to regain its merits. Hoping to reclaim this Creative instinct and spirit, I’d hoped that witnessing its merit in others would ignite it in myself. And though this plan did arise some interest, its heaviness begun to weigh deeply when the idea of “originality” began to escape my ego’s grasp.

What is it about being “original” that brings us some sense of pride? Is it being able to say, “I put out the greatest piece of work anyone has seen”? Is it that we feel proud of displaying work no one has ever seen, even at the threat of others disapproval? Is it that through the Creative Spirit of The One being channeled, we are able to find our place in the world once more? What is this “originality” that society seems to be harping on each of our creative thought process?

In lui of my make-up, I suppose it is imperative that I go through a constant rewashing. Through this rewashing, I find that deconstructing and recreating programs are integral to not just growth but my understanding of life. We each have a means and manner of behaving in this world. And through our means, God has a deeper awareness and presence of all of the facets of His essence through creation. But how often do we allow the grace of this essence to shine forth.

The idea of originality, in the context of creating is just that—the unique, integral formation of God’s handiwork expressed through our individual essence. When I take this into account, I am quickly reminded that in a sense, nothing and everything is original all at the same damn time. Coming from this place of Oneness, we each are reflections of the One who has brought our existence from nothingness. We each are a culmination of experiences created through this encompassing entity, filtered through the reality of our perceptions. And when I keep this in mind, I realize that each word, each action, each thought are original in the sense that they come from my uniqueness, in the likeness of God.

If you were afraid to speak due to imposter syndrome, let this stand as a reminder that though we may feel the claws of false identity clinging to your chest—you stand alone as none of the identities you cling to, belonging only to the giver of identity Himself.

And that, I hope brings some semblance of release.

Life is effortless. Allow yourself to flow with ease.

Xx

Heaven

**Also as seen on Instagram @the_youthfulqueen

Releasing the False Self—Ramadan Reflections

This Ramadan has been quite peculiar for me.

In this place of merging tradition with intentional ritual and releasing faulty conditioning of the Ultimate Truth, I have found myself at the seat of paradoxes one can find lying beneath the tyranny of the false self.

Where are the people, the items, the identities that will bring us to The Most High? We find ourselves seeking practices, ritual and information as a means of searching for this Ultimate Truth. And still, many will miss it.

This search for truth is often found when the haze of clouds disappear overlooking the sky. As Rumi writes, “God has shown us the foam and obscured the ocean”. We see the dust but missed the wind. How is it that we are searching for that which has existed all along?

We search and search once again, only to find consciousness peaking beneath the level of our awareness. Then attention becomes displaced and once again—this awareness escapes us. How is it that we have missed the gold that peaks from beneath the surface? Or even more importantly, how can we grasp the gold when we are confounded with the earth settled on top of it?

This is what it means to operate under the false self, to be consumed by the evils of our own minds—fear, doubt, shame, guilt, judgement and compulsion. Many of us condemn the hell we are afraid of entering—yet perpetuate its presence in our lives through each waking moment.

In moments we choose our false selves over the reflection of the Divine, we have lost Ultimate Truth. In moments we find ourselves tethered to unnecessary impulses, compulsive needs of the lower self, an inability to sit in the wake of nothingness, of silence—we are forfeiting our birthright to the Ultimate Truth. And what is this truth exactly? It is the presence of God that is so apparently in our face, we lose vision of Him each time we turn our face.

It is nothing to be ashamed of, but everything to be conscious of. In this world where we are faced with so much distraction, temptation, anger and strife—remembrance of God becomes not only a necessity, but our saving grace. And I do not mean the God that is defined through religious dogma and rules to regulate human conduct. I mean the Creator that exists beyond space and time—residing, etched deeply into every facet of His magnificent Creation. Including ourselves.

This is what I have learnt this Holy Month. That behind routine, there is the intention and importance of ritual that brings us to a place of purposeful remembrance. And this remembrance allows us to let go of ourselves, let go of our false identities in favor of remembering the fullness of that from which we have come. To embody our divinity and let go of conditioning, false idols and hatred. To release our arrogance and fall to our faces in humility and lack of perfection. And even in those shameful reflections, find the need for the love of God.

💛 I pray the Creator purify my speech, in my intentionality to bring forth His magnificence.

💛 I pray this month be an opening to each of our awakening.

For this, is the truest, most enduring healing 🌸

Have a wonderful second half of this Holy Month.

Your sister,

Xx Heaven

Limitless Living—The Art of Detachment

If there’s anything I’ve learned from traveling, I know how essential it is to pack light.

Traveling across the country has been a grace only inso much as you are able to practice a keen amount of flexibility. Some days will be absolute chaos—moving luggage from one place to the next, gathering groceries for the upcoming week, trying to build a temporary home out of a foreign location. The ability to be flexible is an indispensable trait that allows for one to have a deeper experience in new locations, an ability to nurture self-compassion in difficult moments and encourage growth. This flexibility in traveling, I’ve observed, is also something that is integral for our ability to create a healthy space psychologically as well.

To “pack light” literally means the way it sounds—to release baggage that simply is not helping us any longer. We each have years of experience, mental concepts and perspectives that become crystallized as we get older. But some of these crystalline perspectives cost us the ability to have inner growth. Or even inner peace. We feel heavy because we hold old stories to our chests, as if those stories even defined us; we clench tightly to old hurts and forgo forgiveness even as our palms bleed from the strain of constriction; we attack ourselves in the name of “self-preservation”, though it does nothing but damage our own inner trust. And when time comes for us to fly, we wonder why we are the bird that never leaves the nest. Leading to inevitable death.

To enjoy travel not only means enjoying seeing and experiencing a freshness of life around me, but also within myself. I can no longer afford the brunt of holding on to past hurts that no longer serve my ability to be peaceful and joyful in the present moment—my hands are too weary. I can no longer afford to spend the duration of my short time of this earth in self-caused pain, suffering and stagnation—my time is too precious. And I can no longer make excuses for worldly attachments fastening around my neck, keeping me tied to slippery ground, causing a rigidity in my uptight spine—I am meant to fly high above until I reach back into the heavens.

This is what it means to live a life that is limitless. A life that is all mine; a story between God and I, letting go of everything in between. I am so far beyond being defined by the resting place I place my head and so I will journey this world like a traveler—building a home within God only and myself.

What does living limitless look like to you?

The Breakdown Before the Breakthrough

Have you ever experienced a moment where you are feeling overworked, exhausted or a lack of motivation?

We live in a society that tells us that we must find a way to sustain ourselves, build an accumulation of power, turn our creativity in to profit and be of some help to others. In this same society, there is an overemphasis of intellectualism, “following the herd” mentality and overworking. In this paradigm, there is this created image of success that glamorizes monetary wealth but sacrifices inner spiritual relationship to God and Self. This overexertion can cause one to feel undervalued, overworked and still yet, under-appreciated which of course makes way for one to experience something that many of us abhor – burn-out.

Burn-out literally feels the way it sounds, as previous innocent intention give away to others expectations or requirements of your behavior, work ethic or social responses. We begin to move in ways that we do not quite understand—like saying “yes” just to say “yes” and fearing the repurocutions (sp?) if we were dare utter our “no”. We begin to take jobs that we do not truly enjoy, simply so that we can “pay the mortgage”. We stay in relationships that no longer feed us for fear of being alone and/or undesirable. We pay attention to what others are doing because we don’t trust that we know what’s good for us and we hate ourselves for it. We begin to lie to ourselves about our innermost feelings because if we truly faced our sufferings we feel that we would crumble. Until one day—we do.

This is burn out. It’s the moment where you realize that you have walked way too far along the wrong path and still have not found a way back home. Feet burning, legs aching, you frantically run amuck in circles, searching for a kind place to lie your head, some semblance of peace but find only suffering. And that’s when you realize your suffering comes from a place where you can no longer hide—within yourself.

If you read any of this and began to cringe as if bugs crawled beneath your skin, I want you to know that you are not alone. Many people around the globe feel like this every single day. Many people have felt this way for years and still dragged their feet along a stubborn path to a home they knew was never meant for them. And they pay in their suffering, in their lack of self-worth or self-respect, in their meekness and frailness in spirit. They pay in their lack of and resentment of living.

This is a story we hear all too often. But aren’t you tired of hearing this story? Aren’t you tired of living it? I know I was. Burn out should not be shunned or quietly placed in the back of our pockets or the corners of our mind when we hear its shadows heavy foot steps, but invited in so that it can burn through foundations of a home that was never built on truth. Its fire rekindles a sense of surrender as it strips us away from false illusions and places us into our hearts. And through withstanding the pain of loss; of shame; of guilt; the freedom of truth—we are left to look at the pieces of material left in its dust and make the conscious decision to begin this process of starting anew. Of creating a home built from the vibrations of a child’s innocent laughter; walls painted in the love of our ancestors; brick by brick built from the strength of resilience; protected from prayers in tongue from holy mystics; dripping in the creative and loving spirit of The One.

And I…. well I am your neighbor helping you to put layers of brick upon brick, while sharing beautiful stories of women and men who made it their life’s mission to live well. To live honorably. To be authentic. Listening to your story, I am the one who reminds you that we are beyond our past, actively stitching together old wounds and forgiving ourselves for past ignorance. I am your neighbor sharing from the fruits of my garden, teaching you to plow, tend the soil, plant the seed and water natural life. In the hopes that my fruits and your growing fruits become our fruits sharing with one another recipes of old, basking in the wonderous blessings of living.

Welcome to the catalyst for your home-coming.

Welcome to the community healer.

Find me on Instagram @thecommunityhealer_