Tracing Patterns

I have a million things I should be doing right now. The groceries from the market need to be put away and the floor swept and the laundry in the basket has been staring at me for two days. I should nap. Definitely, definitely should nap.

But I’m here writing and I am going to continue to write because it feels so damn good to write again. To do any form of self-expression again. It has been years of surfing the storm, of using every ounce of energy towards a mismatched relationship and circumstances of chance that created impending chaos.

I recently took some mushrooms in the jungle of Tulum. I had been hired to do sacred photography on a women’s retreat and spent five days away from the baby for the first time. On the third day, they were doing a psylocybin ceremony, something I was planning on observing but not participating in. As they passed out the chocolates, I don’t know what changed. Maybe the thought that this opportunity probably would not present itself anytime soon with my full-time job and full-time son. Maybe God was giving me peace. Maybe they just looked tasty. I don’t know. But I’m glad I did it.

I went and hung out with God in the jungle. He told me many things and walked me through some beautiful truths that have stuck to this day. I released a lot of what I was holding onto, finally laid my tumultuous relationship to rest, and made some agreements with the Lord.

First, he showed me the overdeveloped sense of responsibility I held for those I loved. One by one, he asked me to give these people back to Him and I did. I felt lighter. At the end of this little session, He asked me to metaphorically hand him my son. To trust him with Roman. There was an instant resistance in my gut, a denial at the thought of trusting anyone else with my child, even God. But God was clear with me. I am here to be Roman’s mother, nothing more. I am here to love him and hold him and nurture him. To hold him accountable and build his character. But I cannot protect him from his personal journey. He has to branch out, try, risk, taste, and experience everything that this life has for him. The beautiful moments and the painful moments all play a part in building him into the man he is meant to be. And for that, I must trust God. I agreed and put Roman in His hands.

I returned to the hut and my yoga mat, staring at the grass woven ceiling. I remember tracing the pattern with my eyes and chatting with God as one might do with a friend at morning coffee. He brought up my prior relationship. Something I had held onto long past its expiration date. He showed me that I was holding onto it out of fear. Fear that I would miss out on parts of my son’s life. Fear that he would miss out on parts of his life. Fear of letting go of this vision I had for my life with a whole family instead of a separate one. God asked me again to trust him. He then asked what was the most loving thing I could in this situation.

I blessed this person and their life and any partners they may have in the future. I sent them off with love and let go of the fear in that goodbye. It felt as though God were stitching some gaping wound in my chest and that for the first time in a long time, I could take a full breath. It wasn’t bittersweet or heavy or even really challenging. It just was.

This next part is ridiculous and funny and still makes me laugh. God gave me a vision.

It was me, on jet ski, in a nun costume. I know, so ridiculous and so fun. I love God. I immediately started laughing and told God absolutely not. I know there are women called to that and they rejoice in being his wife and everything but I had no interest. Nooo thank youuu.

God didn’t ask me to be his wife (thank God) but He did ask me to lay some things down. He showed people in the water gossiping and getting caught up in the day to day mutinies we rage against others and ourselves. He showed me the distractions and interpersonal difficulties that consumed us. That had consumed me. He asked if I was capable of riding above it all. Of giving this next season to Him and setting my sights on the things above. I asked Him what that looks like.

Some background on me, I smoked pot for ten years. I never had an issue with any specific substance but I never liked to be completely sober. I always wanted a cocktail or a beer or a joint or a microdose. Anything, really, to alter me. To calm me down. I’m smart and driven and full of ideas. I never really learned how to slow down properly, never really felt safe enough to if we’re being honest.

He showed me that everything that I was seeking externally was actually within myself. That the pot and the alcohol and the attention from others, it was all a false sense of what was living and breathing within my soul. And the only way to truly unlock that is to seek within. To give up all the external forces and begin the long and uncomfortable journey of unlocking it within oneself.

It sounds counterintuitive to say that I felt a call to full sobriety while on mushrooms but there it is, counterintuitive and all. I knew I wouldn’t touch them or any other substance again for a long time. That God had just showed me one of the biggest lies we feed people, that it takes something to get to God. And through that showed me the greatest truth, that He is within and there is no separation between us.

Through a fantastic and random series of events, I had the absolute pleasure of meeting Richard Rohr and hanging out with him for an hour. He walked me through the prayer garden and told me something I’ll never forget.

“Catholics often make an idol of the church and Protestants often make an idol of the Bible.”

His point was to say, that we put these things between us and God. That we often feel we have to go to church to get to God or go to the Bible to experience Him. The opposite is true. We go to God and then join church. We go to God and then read the Bible with a new understanding.

If you’ve read Our Story, then you know I have an appreciation for these different healing modalities that are often separate from the church. Breath work and sound baths and somatic movement. But even these things, even the cacoa ceremonies and yes, mushroom ceremonies, can feed that same lie. That we must do these things to get to God. Though these are tools for our shared human experience, they are not the experience of God. The experience of God is within you. It always has been. It always will be.