How did we grow up to be so small?

The Universe will expand to accommodate whatever space my ideas demand — so how, when, and why did I start believing I had to be smaller than I really am?

Proceeding without Judgment

I've been advised to proceed without judgment. But I've found this difficult to accomplish considering my mind is often faster than I'd actually like for it to be. The process at which I can execute judgment happens to be one of my greatest skills.

"I am my own worst enemy." 
"I'm too smart for my own good."
"I'm too big for my britches."

And so I try to appear to be smaller than I really am.

Those are not my words, my ideas, or my beliefs. Somewhere along the way, I learned these things. I picked them up. I was infected by them, like a common cold. Someone — many people — introduced them to me, and I chose to believe them.

They are not mine. They do not originate in my head. I have no obligation to carry them.

Acknowledging this should at least make them easier to tune out.

Little Epiphany

This has played out in my life in the form of an eating disorder. A kind of anorexia. Maybe not to disappear completely, but ... I believed, at least subconsciously, that I am unworthy of the space I claim.

I have believed the lie that I don't have a right to claim as much space as I would ideally require. Neither do I have a right to claim and hold potential space that I may or may not use in the future. That would make me look to others like an egomaniac, which I am not. I'm too empathic for that kind of behavior. It would pain me to be seen as an egomaniac because that is actually the exact opposite of who I am and what motivates me.

So I have played dumber than I am, to ensure the comfort of others, to appear less threatening to those who feel small.

One of my greatest joys — one of my greatest purposes in life — is fulfilled by showing other people how to be bigger. By acting as the voice of permission that says "You have the right to be bigger."

Projecting Permission : Mirror, Mirror...

I can best accomplish this by mirroring others. They must trust what I have to say. I reflect them; they see me as one of them. I speak their language.

In order to teach, to lead, to share what I have to offer the world, I have learned the power of translation. I often serve any group with which I interact by digesting information and breaking it down for them and regurgitating it in a form that is easier for them to swallow.

Sometimes it is creating metaphor — knocking $100 words down to my two cents; or transforming scary thunderclouds — turning them inside out so their skies are full of silver linings.

The Alchemist

I believe that, when communicating, if your truest, most noble intention is to make sure that others can understand, if you're the one with the power to translate, it is your duty and your purpose to perform this alchemy of information.

I do this enthusiastically. I receive my validation and greatest reward in life from accomplishing this. This is my touchstone of self-judgment. This is how my greatest ability becomes my own worst enemy.

The Magician | The Hermit | The Water-bearer

It's a simple matter of filling my well.

I am happiest and most successful when I am making sure that everyone can drink the water. I am Moses, I am the Magician, I am the Hermit who holds the Lantern that lights the way for others at the edge of darkness.

My power is bigger than the spiritual bartender I play. I'm not just dipping cups into the well of wisdom and handing them out to the masses.  What no one sees is that I made the water drinkable — I transformed it while it was still in the sky. I'm more than a rainmaker — I beat them to the task — I'm a cloudbuster. I see a storm of darkness falling from heaven and I meet it halfway, with my magic that can alter the most hellacious downpour into a refreshing shower, that can be received by the earth and those on it in joy and celebration.

They may even look up to see a rainbow.

My little secret is that I fly that high, that I am as big as the sky. I can change your skies by changing mine, and so what you don't know, you need never be hurt by. I can perform this miracle, so how could I not? 

I know that you can perform this miracle for yourself, or you can at least learn how to, but there I am, in the meantime, with my big old nasty ego, making rainbows for others, acting like God, and hoping I'm good enough at it that no one will catch me and call me out with the shameful truth.

My truths are my Answers to all those hateful Questions:

  • Who the fuck do you think you are?
  • Who do I think I am?
  • What makes me think I'm so special?
  • What gives me the Right?

Well, I do, actually.

I give myself permission. I claim the right.

The Sky is Me.

I can name it, I can claim it, it comes naturally to me, it's easy... and so I simply do.

Never mind that the problem is not my playing God, but that you haven't joined in the Game.

I can teach you how to play, I can help you get in the game, I can give you permission to participate, to write your own rules, or to change them so that they better serve you and those around you.

The Fear of losing the Game

I can't show you how to play, and neither one of us wins, if I'm crucified for mowing the outfield and dusting off the bases and chalking the diamond boundaries of our playing field.

What good is the martyred umpire, blamed for chatting with serpents, and cast off the grass for sharing Sophia's apple, burned at the stake for heresy, committed to a padded cell for speaking in tongues, for speaking to, and even of, the voices in my head...

These are my biggest fears.

I know how to get to Sophia's Tree. I have Cassandra's personal cell phone number. I am on a first-name basis with the Mother of God. I walk daily in the knowledge of who walks with me -- my god posse; my guardian angel pitcrew. I work in secrecy, in The Between, quickly, quietly, to wake you slowly without scaring you half to death.

Like anybody, I want to be acknowledged and loved.

Fear is the opposite of love.

When I was younger, I was often told that my own shyness was misunderstood, that when I was concentrating on the miracles, when I was turned inward, I appeared brooding, angry, sullen, stern.

Intimidating, unapproachable.

I was horrified...

I was looking at the ground, my face transparent with intention and focus, because I was clearing a path for you.

I was building bridges. I was mending fences. I was carefully placing delicate breadcrumb trails along the way I had blazed before you. You came upon me and caught me at my work and the sight of me in that state was scary.

You went around me.

You chose to veer off into the brambles and thorns rather than come closer.

I learned I had to work even faster, and to always be mindful of turning my frown upside down. Or all my magic was for nothing.

I rushed to change my wizard’s robes so that you’d find a smiling guide.

I need you to trust me.

To help you find yourself and your way, I need you to meet someone easy to like.

I am not afraid to go on ahead alone and light the fires, so long as you can find me.

It’s a tall order. I expect a lot of myself.

Will you still want to find me?

This is how and why I have fallen into the bad habit of dumbing down who I am.

Fearful of your fear of me — the disaster that would negate all my efforts, take away my chance to deliver the message I have for you.

The message is not just that I am god — this is eminently true — but that you are too.

This is big, terrifying news, and it demands a great deal of work. It’s a calling…

Please, for God’s sake, don’t run from the invitation and drop your permission slip.

This little light of mine

I will cast a glamour — I will filter the light that I shine — so that the great all-encompassing white light of spirit appears as a simple candle you can accept from me and hold without fear of being consumed and burned.

The truth is:

I am a phoenix, pretending to be a sparrow. I am a griffin with righteous talons and an angry beak, costumed with the sweet round face of a cherub.

I am Cupid — I intend to shoot you and make you fall in love with yourself.

I understand how judgment happens — it can’t be easily dismissed. Appearances are powerful, don’t kid yourself.

Big Things come in Small Packages

In order to become all that I ever hoped to be, to walk my path, and to fulfill my purpose, to serve others, to answer my Calling — to guide you on the path to discovering your own divinity — to deliver God’s permission for you to create the life you want to live — one of the greatest unforeseen challenges has been to design a package for something so enormous.

To create a seed pack of L’il Epiphanie that you will instantly want to pick up and hold, and love like a puppy — something non-threatening, that inspires you to adopt, to nurture, to take home.

We have arrived, as always, at the super common divine:

Every rock is a relic — leave no stone unturned.

Magic is mundane — every moment is a miracle.

The way to the super common divine is found with a simple map that reveals the location of a gazillion rabbit holes — the way down into the deepest magic of your divinity — or you may think of it as the seed that will grow a beanstalk you can climb into your sky.

The Creativity of a child

Artists get lost along their way for many reasons — any number of obstacles can come along — but the main problem is a basic misunderstanding of the nature of the path itself.

The shifting path cannot be mapped and made to stay put. It is constantly unfurling before you, and where it appears to lead today may no longer be the case tomorrow. You don’t have to know every curve along the way. You don’t even have to foresee the ultimate destination. All that is required of you is the courage to discover the next moment. Forget about the fear of when you may draw your last breath — this is not helpful information. Forget about whether or not breath exists on the other side of life — you will never know in this reality. It’s not only unknowable, it is irrelevant.

The art of breathing is simply to breathe.

The good news is: nature has included this as involuntary. You don’t need to remember to breathe to survive. You don’t have to think about breathing, you don’t have to try to breathe.

Stop feeling anxious about fulfilling your purpose in life — it’s not a Great Big Decision. You are already fulfilling your life’s purpose every moment that you draw breath.

How on earth did we grow up to be so small?