My soul took me on an adventure with my eldest son over the last three days involving a 14 hour drive to Colorado (both ways), the cheesiest green chile queso that literally stretched a foot above the plate, and angelic healings for us both from an incredible practitioner, Bethany.
Last night was a huge gift, and to understand the gift you’ll need to suspend disbelief.
We drove back from Colorado to Texas and stayed in a hotel randomly selected because it’s price was 44. (When given the option of an angel number, I pick it.)
Arriving at 2am to a hotel concierge with tattoos all over his arms, including a six inch cross up his bicep, I breathed a sigh of relief that they were not enforcing the posted regulation of no checkin after 10pm.
As the concierge led us to our room (the key card machine was broken), I began to notice the torn carpet with frayed edges down the hallway. When we arrived at our room, I could see there was at least an inch gap where the door met the floor. Entering the room, I smelled the musk of tobacco (not sacredly used) and the heaviness of desperation. He smiled and left us. This place feels hectic said my sensitive son.
I whipped out my rattle, opened sacred space, called in the guides, lit a mapacho (because hey…a smoking room) and cleared the space. Followed by spirit water. Followed by agua florida. It was sleepable. We slept.
In the morning as we were leaving (keyless), a new concierge, a female, greeted us with a huge proud smile. “How was your night? Did you sleep well?” I could tell from her demeanor and energy that she completely expected a positive response. I told her we slept well and said that I could see they were in the process of renovation. We left.
Yet, this scenario stuck with me all the way home.
In my float I finally saw it. The hotel was a metaphor and an invitation for humility. It helped me remember my own journey to grace and self love.
The look on the woman’s face this morning said “Welcome to my shabby hotel. It’s a bit worn and in a shambles, but we are working on it. I can offer you good cheer to make up for what we may lack in wealth. Don’t focus on the problems. Look on the bright side!”
It reminded me of how I felt as I began my journey of healing over a decade ago, courageously believing that I could be renovated into something I would love to share with others.
If I could put that feeling into words, it would be:
“Welcome to my shabby heart. It’s a bit worn around the edges but I see its potential. I’m letting faith, hope and love take up residence and redecorate. I’m not crazy. There’s a method to my madness. A miracle is underway. Just you wait and see.”
Indeed, the miracle is here, now, inside of me. It’s Love.
If I could re-do this morning, I would have told the woman behind the desk “I see what you’re doing here, and I believe you can do it.”
P.S. Join us for “Let That Sh*t Go” on May 28 over Zoom for a virtual group healing and recalibration.
