Channeled Wisdom of the Grandmothers Circle—

“We cannot begin to understand the motivations of another, we can only gently lead and correct in a way that is considerate and kind for all beings and souls.

Discipline—
gentle redirection,
patience
strength and motivation to do better;
motivation for oneself and
encouragement for expected behavior.

These are what make a soul flourish and grow. Discipline is not always about removal. It is not always punishment. Discipline is to encourage in a way that is firm, but kind.”

-Jamie Homeister

I had forgotten how strong you are.
I see a girl before me
broken and entangled;
injected by a will she didn't ask for,
intruded by a power that wasn't meant to be hers.

I had forgotten about the courage it took to rise from this place.
To wake up the next morning.
To learn to breathe again.
How had I forgotten that?

Time has made me question if it was even real
but I remember when I see you,
wounded
fractured
split in two by a choice that wasn't yours;
a living object,
a stolen prize.

I didn't see you as a huntress.
A woman looking to reclaim the rights back to the true light of her soul.
A light that had been harvested from her very core,
held captive in their memory.

I didn't see you as a tower of strength,
waking up day after day in a bed you can't get out of to make
wondering what in this world even belonged to you anymore.

I didn't see any of this.
A shape-shifting warrior.
A goddess in trial.
All I could see was my twelve-year-old self.
And my thirteen-year-old self.
And my fourteen-year-old self.
And my fifteen-year-old self.
And my twenty-year-old self.

All I could see was you as my mirror,
and feel an earthquake rumbling
from fault lines still hidden,
still skewed,
even after all these years.

You are the most powerful woman in the world.
With your back straight
and jaw strong
you still let the tears fall from your face
and collect in a heart cut wide open to me. How did I not see you there?
How long have I not seen me?

-Jamie Homeister

You are not crazy.
You are not crazy because you perceive what others do not.
You not crazy for how deeply you feel, or the depth of love that you long for.
You are not crazy because your heart bleeds where others have closed theirs,
and you care about others do not. Could not.

You are not crazy because you feel when people dislike you.
When they hold anything other than love acceptance for your presence.
You are not crazy because you can read an intent behind a smile,
or know the truth in a lie.

You are not crazy for thinking the way you do.
To consider the life of a stranger long after they have passed by.

You are not crazy because tears fall from your face in laughter and joy as easily as sorrow and pain. You are not crazy because they fall for no reason at all.

You are not crazy because you cannot speak the words that you really want to,
that you need to, because you simply cannot bear to hurt another even if they've hurt you—
  especially if they've hurt you.

You are not crazy to say you love and hate life all in the same breath.
To feel as though you don't belong to this earth, that you are from another planet.
You are not crazy because you cannot fit in with social norms—
not because you don't try, but because no matter what you do there is always a difference between you and them.

You are not crazy when you feel the wind hug your body
or feel the heartbeat of the earth through the soles of your feet.
You are not crazy to be moved by the flight of a bird,
watching ripples in a pond,
or finding a stone that asks to be carried with you.

You are not crazy when you sing songs you've never learned with lyrics you can't remember,
yet they inspire so much hope and love within you that you simply cannot imagine how they haven't existed before you.

You are not crazy for living deeply.
For letting your soul speak for you.
For believing in yourself where others choose not to.

You are not crazy for being an individual,
separate from the way you were raised and all those you call friends.

If you do any of these things,
if any of this sounds familiar,
you are not crazy—
you are just witnessing your true self in a world full of souls asleep to theirs and we need you.
We need you to be exactly as you are.

You are not crazy.
You are remembering.
And I thank you for being brave enough to be you.

-Jamie Homeister

I have a reoccurring dream where I am driving and I crash. They've been ongoing for years, at least ten that I can remember. Everything is lucid, meaning it feels real and appears to be real, only sometimes am I actually cognitive that I am in a dreaming state.

Each setting is generally the same. There is always a treacherous, winding mountain road, a cliffside, or a harrowing drive through rush hour. The main subconscious motivation here is to reflect danger. But as the years pass, my position changes. First, I was in the backseat. The entire dream was about the struggle to climb to the front of the car and drive myself to safety, only I could never make it in time. Zoom—off the mountainside I'd go.

A few years later, my position changed. Now I am on the passenger side. I could lean over and actually grip the steering wheel but I could not reach the pedals. Splash—over the bridge I'd fall.

In 2018 I finally moved behind the driver’s seat. I have full access to the car but there are mechanical failures.

Last night I found myself in such a scenario. Again, I was behind the wheel and I could actually reach the brake, only it wasn’t responding. Only this time when panic began to rise and heightened sense of death filled the air, I stopped struggling. I calmed myself and said, "It's okay, Jamie. It's only a dream. It isn't real. Trust." And sure enough, that steering wheel turned into a Gameboy.

My youngest son, now seated at my right, turned to me and said said, "Of course it's not real, mom. It's meant to be fun! Just do it differently next time." And if that doesn't summarize life’s experiences I don't know what does.

Beep-beep.

-Jamie Homeister

 personal share / april 24th, 2017