Always and Forever in Service of Love

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Dear friends,

Being Lovers is being concluded.

I am moving on with a new project. It’s a collaborative blog called AWAKENING WITH. In partnership with many beautiful, wise writers spanning our globe, we will be offering our unique wisdom about various awakening paths, such as Reiki, yoga, meditation, Tarot, Tantra, and more. It’s the next big step for me, for us, on this wonderful writing journey! I hope you’ll check us out.

And now…

Some parting words about Love…

♥♥♥

What is romantic love?

As you focus your attention on a single person in a moment of “romance,” and that person focuses their loving attention back upon you, then a feeling of bliss expands inside your heart. You feel, if only for a few moments, complete. You feel at home.

What is unconditional love?

Unconditional love is pure. It is free from expectations, judgments, co-depency, fears. It is a sense of unity that does not fade. It is living within the breath of eternal union. Body, mind, and spirit, forever yoked as One.

Unconditional love, which we could also call “ultimate love,” is the surrender of the scared self, and an awakening of the Sacred Self.

How do romantic love and unconditional love relate?

Romantic love, for many of us, is the mystical moment where we, for the first time, experience ourselves opening to something greater. Something amazing and indefinable. It is a moment where the seemingly solid form of “me” begins to dissolve.

Romantic love is an opening.

Romantic love is a moment where the previously-closed human vessel of the body can begin to receive and utilize the very frequency that originally made it.

Romantic love heals.

Romantic love, for many, is the beginning of the end of suffering.

When we choose to incarnate onto this planet, we choose to descend into these bodies and brains with a forgetfulness. We forget our true divine nature and walk around feeling we are less than that. We feel fear; we feel separate. Our hearts are closed, protected seeds. And…then…the warmth of the sun comes. Love comes. Our beloved comes.

And then we blossom.

What we call “romantic love” is actually, at its depths, a trigger for the spiritual awakening process.

And, yet, as beautiful as romantic love is, it is not the be-all-end-all of life. It is not the final goal or destination.

Romance is what humanity is transitioning out of.

Pure, awakened unconditional love is the future.

When we “fall in love” (initially in the romantic sense) and experience viewing ourselves through the eyes of the mirror of our Beloved, everything changes. Every part of our being shifts. What once was dark is now light; what once was tired now has energy. We cannot believe how wonderful we feel! We cannot believe how lucky we suddenly are!

Dear friends, at this time in my life, the beautiful miraculous spring of 2017, I can say that I understand these truths almost fully—but not quite. As a channeller of information, the information comes through me, healing me as it moves. I often teach what I have yet to fully and totally embody. This is the way of things.

Indeed, I still am working on integrating this information that I present to you now, which flows freely to me through the Universe during Reiki and meditation. I am fully aware that what I write to you now is truth…and…yet…sometimes I still sink into fear.

And even though, most of the time, I am fully grounded in the self-realized awareness of my eternal being-ness, I still, sometimes, desire another. I long for someone. Yes, that still arises sometimes.

I do not want to call what I feel for this person “romantic love,” for it is not that. No. I do not intend for it to be that. And…yet…so then…what to call it? If I have no intention of returning to co-dependency or clinging, if I have no desire to base my happiness on the form of another, then what to name it?

It is a paradox. I deeply love many Beings. And, yet, there is One in particular for whom my heart particularly sings. When we are together, it is as if every cell in my body dances to a new rhythm that I could only before imagine was possible. When he touches my knee, all the trees in the forests stop to listen. When his face appears in view, my bones tremble and ask for his blessing.

When I look at him, I see myself. I see my own triumphs, joys, projections, sorrows, stumbles, and hopes. I see myself, projected outside myself, in another form. It is quite a powerful show!

This has happened before—this kind of powerful, immersive, radical love, particularized in a single person—but, before, I was not quite so aware. Thus, much pain ensued, as we tried to cling to each other, not recognizing that we were already whole beings. We mistakenly sought completion in the other. We mistakenly gripped and held. We loved each other, but we hurt each other, and ourselves. We suffered.

Now is the time for something new. With this new friend. This new spiritual companion. This new energy.

I cannot call him “partner,” for it is much more grande yet much less localized than that. We have no label. We have no promises. We have no clinging, and any co-depency that rises up within me, I notice, and I breathe into it, thus dissolving it quickly. The old ways are dying.

The love that is there, this deep, profound, completely earth-shattering love, whom I direct sometimes in a particular direction, at a particular gorgeous form, is also the same love I have for every tree, every rock. It is one love.

I dance my dance most days alone, without his voice, and I am okay. In fact, I am more than okay! I am the creator of the Universe and the creation within the Universe. I am both, functioning in a perfect dance of will and form. I am in love with myself.

Now is the time I attain to the next level. This spiral brings me up.

Romance is what humanity is transitioning out of.

Pure, awakened unconditional love is the future.

I represent the future. I am a wayshower. This is my task in this lifetime. I signed up for it. He did, too. We have the same mission.

I am so grateful to know him.

…and what I feel now of Love is deeper than any song, wider than any river. I am the Pure Presence that emanates from all things, and through my light, I heal myself and all beings. I have taken the Bodhisatva vow in my heart. Not in front of a religious community, but in the quiet echoes of my own morning. I have chosen. I have dedicated my entire life to the Way of awakening.

It is what I have always wanted.

Looking back, I can see this future in my childhood’s eyes. I can see how it has always been this way. How this Path has been prepared for me.

Each day I rise, and I surrender. Some days are easier than others. And there is still ego in me, still the illusion of separateness that still strives to exist. It will be dissolved at some point. No timelines can predict exactly when, but I do feel it will be within this lifetime.

Friends, thank you for following this blog. I hope you have felt loved through it.

Go forth, and love—as deeply and intensely as you can!!

Go forth and breathe, allowing the love to flow back to you, completing the circle.

Always and Forever in Service of Love,

Anya Light

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♥ Enjoy more heart-openings at www.AnyaLight.com or Anya’s book Opening Love. ♥ Namaste!

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Love at First Sight*

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“There will always be words,”
said the little girl to the little boy.
“So…let’s write them!”

The little boy looked at her.
His face was the color of the sun,
and his eyes knew more
than his height would allow.

The little boy looked at her.
“Will you, too, share the moon?” he asked,
blinking. His fingers, shaking.

 

Together, they fell into a rapture.
Together they fell.
They remembered in an instant,      beyond
what their childhood brains could know…

They remembered the swamps, the forests,
the many many islands,
and all the deserts and the hells.
But most of all:
They remembered
every key
that could, or could not, be unlocked.
They remembered it all.

They kissed.
They kissed.

Their mouths fit!

And they called sweetly to the moon, then,
their voices in unison:
“Please, gentle mother,
please be our guide.”

 

And so she did.
(How could she not?) It was love, love at first sight.
It was the thing they’d read about, later,
as adults. It was the thing they’d always know.
The lightning and the jolt. The grasses and the green.
The day, and how it always begun.

They fell,
together:
and it was the moment when all the ends worked out.
When the woman in the well began to swim,
and the man in the high priestly collar
began to bend.

It was that moment.
That moment
Of seed,
That moment of miracle:

That moment

When the planting
Could truly begin.

 

 

*Dedicated to B, and all our many past and future lives together. 

 


 

If you enjoyed this poem, you might also enjoy Anya’s book, Opening Love.
Or, for a closer encounter, contact Anya today to schedule a spiritual guidance or relationship coaching session via phone or Skype.

What Works

I tried poetry.
It didn’t work.

I tried intellect.
It didn’t work.

I tried romance.
It didn’t work.

I tried marriage.
It didn’t work.

I tried anger and activism.
It didn’t work.

I tried work.
It didn’t work.

I tried money and shopping.
It didn’t work.

I tried publishing and fame.
It didn’t work.

I tried kinky sex.
It didn’t work.

I tried car trips, drug trips,
and always to be moving.
It didn’t work.

I lived across the ocean.
It didn’t work.

I tried to live alone.
It didn’t work.

I tried everything.

Nothing,
nothing worked.

 

So, I began to try some silence.
That worked, a little bit.

I began to try some yoga.
That worked, a little bit.

I began to try some Reiki.
That worked, a little more.

I began to whisper “I love you”
to myself,
every morning.
That worked, a little more.

I began to forgive myself.
That worked, more and more.

I began to forgive them all.
That worked, more and more.

I began to smile.
That worked.

I began to feel my heart within a web of hearts.
That worked.

I began to serve.
That worked.

I began to live amongst them,
yet in solitude.
That worked.

 

I began to begin.
I began to be.
I began to work,

For you and for me.

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If you enjoy this blog, you might also enjoy Anya’s book, Opening Love. Or, for a closer encounter, contact Anya today to schedule a spiritual guidance session via phone or Skype.

A Spell and a River

My nipples are stones: smooth, hard, glorious. At the bottom of the deep river we see to the bottom. There are other stones, too. (So many days and dreams!) What they ask for is what we have.

Water…moves…languidly. Nobody rushes. It is midday: robins and wolves drink. Enough for everyone? Yes.

I recognize you, lover. You appear to be The Keeper this time. I appear to be The Watcher. Let the hands move back, let us see the vision: a sailboat, blue still waters, pyramids, paint.

When you first came, I was alone, shutting my eyes: unaware of, or ignoring the leaping possible. Keeping Time seemed easy.

 “Where have you been?” I gasped, crazy wide eyes. (This time not screaming.)

Air. Earth. Fire. Water. These are the elements that make us. You hold a bowl with your left, move a small gold sword in your right. We both fall silent,

making rainbows.


 

If you enjoy this blog, you might also enjoy Anya’s book, Opening Love. Or, for a closer encounter, please contact Anya today to schedule a spiritual guidance session via phone or Skype.

My Lover is a Priest

11863343_10204816779874795_48011293211071879_nYou’ve probably figured out by now that I’m not what you’d call a normal woman. Black swaying robes and lifelong spiritual vows are, to me, quite more alluring than millions of dollars or mountains of bicep. I am pulled to those who give away their lives. I am drawn to those who, gently, put their ego on the shelf. I am drawn to the courage of those who simply be. I am drawn to those who know: it’s not always so. It’s maybe.

In the summer of my thirty-second year, the year that began with a conversation with God, I went to Ireland, the holy land of Ireland, to the place where my Zen man lives. I went to Dublin, land of my ancestors on my mother’s side.

I lived with him for three and a half weeks. I became intimately near. We made juice together, ate chocolate, did laundry. I lived in his home, for three and a half weeks.

When I came back to America, we kept in touch, and then for a while we didn’t. I focused on other lovers. The priest had other lovers too. We both travelled. We drifted.

But now I’ve got the Zen bug again. I’m waking up earlier and earlier. I’m doing more sitting these days than my ego (and neck and back!) wants. I’m scheduling more nothings than somethings. Less doing; more being. And the Zen man and I…we’ve reconnected. In him, I’m finding a friend again: finding a calm center, in the warm gaze of my computer screen.

And these past few weeks, I’ve been reminiscing. What is it about him? What did I learn in Ireland last year? What keeps me? I look in my journal. Maybe the answers are there. I look at the words I wrote, two summers ago, as I flew back to America…

I’m in a plane, traveling back to a place I can no longer quite call home. I seem to, suddenly, have nothing: no home, no possessions, no special nook or place, no special tree, no lovers, no husbands, no wives or anything familiar or mine. There are no clocks, now, to keep task. I’m in the clouds. I’m free. I’m fullness itself. I’m being and non-being: this tiny airplane seat. To my left, a young Irish man holding a baby. To my right, an old American woman holding her head in her hands, drunk on bitterness, boredom, and wine.

 What has the Zen man given me? What might the priest know that I do not? That last morning in Dublin, the morning after the rainbows—our swirling limbs and hearts growing new as trees—I had wanted tears from him. I had wanted him to moan and cry and say “Don’t go, Anya! I cannot live without you!” But there had been none of that. No drama. There had been, rather, a warm coolness in his kisses. Sweet eye contact, but with no longing. No reaching. Instead, there had been holding my hand in the car, on the way to the airport, and there had been the word “maybe,” so many times, in response to my questions.

 Every time he had said “maybe,” something vanished. I don’t know what it was, but it certainly feels better now.

 I’m free.  


 

If you enjoy this blog, you might also enjoy Anya’s book, Opening Love. Or, for a closer encounter, please contact Anya today to schedule a spiritual guidance session via phone or Skype.

Dear Leonard: A Farewell Letter

young-leonardDear Leonard,

This morning I wear a scarf, wrapped around my head. I am in mourning. I am saying goodbye.

Leonard, we never met, but we did. Somehow, somehow, you reached across the ocean of mystery, touching my deepest, most secret places. You became real. For years I joked to friends about being your lover, but the truth is…it was not a joke. I sometimes made it sound more silly, more lighthearted than it really was.

Perhaps I was afraid. Maybe I’ve been afraid, this whole time.

Somehow, somehow, in your rolling words and echoing rhyme, you dug up parts of me that I did not want. You exposed me. You became real, and I could not look away. You became real. Sometimes, whole albums on repeat for days: my body shaking, an earthquake. Sometimes, I’d be cooking dinner and have to stop, fall to the floor—there would be a line that was just too much. Sobbing. There was one moment I remember in particular. One song. One afternoon. You shattered me: The course of my life changed forever.

Leonard, your music was my meditation. My medication. Leonard, your music was my release.

And the world, the world feels so different with you gone. Call it the curse and the blessing of being a teacher of energy—I have felt your physical presence depart. I can, quite literally, feel the absence, in my bones and spine. In the air around us. You’re gone. You’re gone.

Dear Leonard, dear lover, you soothed and aroused so many hearts. You, you my love, you did it! What a life! You dared to write and sing—really write, really sing. I remember you saying how sometimes it would take days, just to get a line right.

Leonard, I must say more. I must speak of the deepest things. I must speak of the things you may have never known and might always know. Leonard, you came to me in dreams, for so many years. The last time was in September. It was a night of nightmares.

I am working in old restaurants, falling-down creaking old restaurants, where nothing works and dust and rust prevail. I am in charge of a cash register, and money keeps on vanishing. I’m a lousy clerk. Everybody knows it. The people are angry, and they ball their fists into their hands. This goes on for some time. Then, finally, I notice you. My love, Leonard! You! You are in line with the customers.

At this moment, I know it is okay to leave my role; I know, suddenly, that I am dreaming, and that this is not some horrible situation but rather my own cunning creation, my own fascinating play. I leave the register and walk toward you. I am happy, exuberant, knowing some great blessing is on the way.

Suddenly, the scene changes. Now you are sitting in a small school desk. A desk for a child. You are resting your head against the white wall, a picture of perfect grace and repose. I bend down, come up close to your face, and say, You! It could only be you!

Your eyes grow wide, Leonard. There is amusement playing on your face. You reply:  Yes, Anya. I’m here. And I’ve got to tell you something, sweetheart. You have to learn that even though you are asleep, you can breathe. You can breathe deeply, my love. And that is what you must do. Breathe…

The word “breathe” comes from you like a purring cat; your voice echoes through my spine and heart. Reverberates and soothes. I can taste you in my mouth. I lean forward for a kiss. I always get a kiss when we dream together, so I know it’s okay. It’s part of our dance, ancient and thrilling.

You kiss me. You kiss me, Leonard! You are eighty-two years old but you are also a sweet child. You are both. The grey mingles with the new skin. You are my love. I kiss your cheek, so softly, and then somewhere in the midst of our cloud of kisses you begin to sing, gently, into my right ear. You always sing into my right ear. I soak in your love, I bask in the glory, as wakefulness begins to come…although I don’t want to, I gently sigh, letting go of the dream, letting go of your embrace…

leonard

Leonard, we are both poets. We share that. We are both keepers and champions of the word. We know what the word can do. (And we know what it can’t do.)

Leonard, we are kindred spirits. You are my friend. You have been my friend, my dear companion, these years. No one can replace you.

In honor of you, Leonard, I shed these tears. We never met, but we did. In honor of you, I wear this scarf, wrapped around my head. It is purple patchwork. It is my favorite.

Anytime you like, come kiss me in dream sometime.

 

All my Love Forever,

Anya Light

 


If you enjoy this blog, you might also enjoy Anya’s book, Opening Love. Or, for a closer encounter, please contact Anya today to schedule an intuitive guidance or relationship coaching session via phone or Skype.

The Face of the Present Moment

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The present moment is intense. Our President Elect is a person who ignites extreme fear, sorrow, and panic into so many hearts. These are understandable emotions. It is easy for me to feel empathy, because I have felt these emotions too. I intentionally don’t own a television, but, in the past months, whenever I’ve encountered television sets in public spaces (restaurants, coffee shops, gas stations, etc.), Trump has seemed to be on the screen a majority of the time, spouting red-faced angry statements that have truly shocked me.

This Trump character frightens people. In the past 24 hours, since we’ve woken to a new world, a world where Trump is our future leader, I’ve read so many ventings and cries for help on Facebook. My friends are feeling angry, depressed, and even suicidal, unable to get out of bed. They are finding work difficult and alcohol a much-needed comfort.

Friends, I feel your pain! People of America, I feel your pain! And, let it be known, there is this part of me that is totally calm. Totally at peace. There is this part of me that is untouched by all that is going on. How? I am keeping things simple. I am tasting the food that I eat. I am smiling at those I love. I am breathing, slowly, in and out, and looking at the trees, as I walk in the woods this autumn morning. I am keeping things simple…and because of this, I have been able to have an insight. I’d like to share it with you.

Friends, things are not as they appear. Look again. Look deeper.

If you dare to look deeper, maybe you will see what I see. Maybe you will see it, too… that Donald Trump is helping us. Trump is our mirror. He is an excellent—and no doubt intensely challenging!—mirror.

Of course, yes, I know, Donald Trump’s explicit aim is not to help us. I know. His aim is clear: greed, ignorance, violence, division, power. That’s obvious to so many of us wise, compassionate souls. However, he is helping us still the same by his very presence in such a central position in our media and government. Seeing his face on the screen, we can now no longer deny or ignore the fact that something is very very backward here, something is very very broken and outdated, not only with the entire current (global) political system as it stands but also with our human collective consciousness as a whole. We see we have much healing to do. (Maybe much more than we have been wanting to admit.) We also see that the time must be now.

This is the face of the present moment. This is what Trump’s face allows us to see.

And, dear friends, let me be very clear. In no way am I excusing Trump’s actions and words of racism, sexism, greed, and hate. I am not saying it is okay. Please look deeply at what I am saying and allow your heart to unveil my meaning.

Friends, there is always a deeper way of perceiving things. When we look at Trump—deeply look—what can we see? What can we find?

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What we can see and find is a perfect, stunning (yes, often horrifying!) reflection of the state of consciousness of a majority of people in this country and in the “civilized” world. We see where most people are at: stuck in fear, stuck in ignorance. And seeing this reality, so blatant and obvious right in front of our face, with nowhere to go, nowhere to escape to, we know our efforts at peace are needed—really needed, right now. We know our efforts to open our hearts with compassion to help others is a needed effort in this current world. We are needed. We can see how people are hurting by how they voted. We can see how they do not know. And we do not judge them or attack them for their vote, but rather we feel inspired and revitalized by the current events, by the present moment. By the possibilities that lie deeply, at the heart of this moment.

When we look at Trump, what else do we see? In addition to recognizing the seeds of fear and ignorance within others, we must also acknowledge that the seeds of fear and ignorance are also present within ourselves as well (to various extents). When we look deeply, we see that we, too, have been capable of fear and ignorance in our daily lives in the past, or maybe even today. Sometimes we have said angry words to others. Sometimes we have judged or condemned others. Sometimes we have been so locked in the closet of our own pain and despair that we have been unable to open that door and listen kindly to those we love when they have been in pain. Sometimes, we have not been our best self.

It hurts, yes, that moment of realization—the moment where we see within ourselves what we dislike in others—but it is also the moment where the whole game is seen for what it is. Trump is helping us! The situation of Trump has broken through the clutter of our busy lives, and, now, we are in the moment of now. We cannot help but be. We have no choice but to pause, in our deep grief and concern. We are here, in the now.

For me, this is a time to look back and realize that only twelve years ago, I was watching the television show The Apprentice, admiring Trump as a strong, confident leader from whom I could learn. (At the time, I felt ashamed of what I felt was my “feminine passivity.”) For me, this is a time to realize that it was not so long ago that I too actively strived for the values that Trump touts: the creeds of “success,” competition, and materialism. For me, this is a good time to reflect deeply. Many of my biological family members voted for Trump. It is not my intention to divide myself from them, to shake the finger at or blame them. What good would that do? It is Trump himself who advocates division, anger, judgment, and blame—so why would I want to continue to propagate the cycle? The only way to end blame is with compassion. The only way to end violence is with peace. The only way to end hate is with love. Teachers since time immemorial have taught this simple message. Teachers such as the deceased Martin Luther King Jr. and Mahatma Gandhi as well as the still-living inspiration Thich Nhat Hanh. Their message has been simple, yes, but difficult to carry out. But now, in the present moment, we can feel the stirrings and the callings for change. Real change. We felt such hope when Obama was elected…but what really changed? The core of the system is flawed, and so our hopes went unanswered. What is the opportunity here? What can we do now that we couldn’t do then?

The way forward, the first step, is with compassion. Can we see how we are more alike than not to our brothers and sisters? Perhaps we are not so fearful and ignorant as to vote for someone like Trump, but if we are honest with ourselves, we can admit that we ourselves do have some elements of fear and ignorance present within us. That fear and ignorance may not be manifesting as much or as obviously as in others…but does that make us superior to them? No. The way forward is the way of peace, the way of compassion. We have compassion for ourselves when we act with ignorance and fear (or maybe that is something we are still working on, too), and so we remind ourselves of that self-compassion, and extend it outward to others, no matter how they voted, no matter how ignorant or crazy they may seem.

Do you not see the beautiful paradox of this? That in the age of Trump, we have the most stunning, vital possibility for peace. In my life, I have found the deepest truths to happen within the caverns of mystery, in the places of paradox that seem to make no sense.

Friends, in this difficult, confusing moment, what if we could perceive our common thread of humanity? What if we could see that all our brothers and sisters (even Trump himself!) need love and compassion, in order to help us all awaken to our best selves. Friends, let us put this 2016 political election to great use. Let us not waste this opportunity.

Let us love.

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If you enjoy this blog, you might also enjoy Anya’s book, Opening Love. Or, for a closer encounter, please contact Anya today to schedule an intuitive guidance or relationship coaching session.