The work keeps growing.
Every time I think I know something I am surprised, because it is never, ever, what I think. Never.
The teachers & maps are there, always, they are my guides & the guides of those who are drawn to me. The level of expertise seems to be equal to the level of faith & surrender. I shudder when I say this, because I still believe somewhere inside that this means I don't really know anything & I am just waving my hands around & singing, but I know this is just the leftover information of my indoctrination into the civilized human race leaving the building. I also know that it is just this process: the prayer, the surrender, the catching the big fish of intuitition & reeling it in that is actually what the gift is, & these are (some of) the tools I can teach. It is always a surprise, there is something lurking in the corner of my consciousness, subtly waving a tiny wiggle of alarm & then, oh! I allow myself to actually acknowledge that I see this & then I somehow find the right combination of sounds to voice it & then usually that is where the healing begins, it is the invitation & the doorknob to what we can remember/salvage (I can barely muster the word portal, why are all the good words so overdone these days) . . . A client said to me yesterday "Thank you for going slightly mad for all of us." It did make me feel slightly naked.