Dear Energy Worker,

Like many of you, I generally offer energy work and prayers into various world events and do this in a variety of ways. During, and following, the heart-breaking destruction of the recent fires in Hawaii I’ve been combining art meditation w sound/chant to work with the earth’s element of fire relative to its ability to renew life.

Using my watercolor and gouache paints and some blank cards, I chanted and painted while creating a series of altar cards. Doing this gave a deep and satisfying focus to the prayer chant I created to use in this way.

This is the chant I used:

May the element of fire be supported
    in balance on this planet.
May it’s ability to renew life be magnified.
Peace be upon the people
    and all life challenged by fire,
May the blessings of heaven
    pour forth upon them
And abundant renewal of life follow.
Amama Ua Noa!
Amama Ua Noa!
Amama Ua Noa!
(Meaning: This prayer is now
    released into the world)

I recorded the chant, repeated several times, and then chanted along while painting. Over my days of painting and chanting, I felt such connection with these beautiful islands and their people – both now and through time. I had many images of the blessings of life there over a long history of habitation, clearly seeing as well the blessing that life there has been to us and our planet, ongoing.

Pele, their goddess of fire, was often in attendance with me in her role as creator of land through fire. Also often in attendance was Pele’s sister, Poli’Ahu the snow goddess, with her cooling gentle caresses, her name meaning to caress.

Her home is Mauna Kea, Mountain of White, the highest point in the Hawaiian islands, (on the the Big Island)… where snow is often seen. Mau means always steady, constant. Na means calmed, quieted, pacified, assuaged, soothed and settled.

These two great elemental sisters worked together to bring balance, comfort and renewal for the times ahead. It felt such an honor to work with them and feel their loving responsiveness and reverence for all life.

A little bit of a miracle occurred as I worked on my fourth card and fourth day. My peace plant bloomed! It’s apparently fairly rare for them to do so at home because they need a special plant hormone that can only be purchased by and for licensed nurseries, it’s not available for home use. But, none-the-less, a beautiful single blossom opened and is blooming still!

I know y’all work in loving energetic service and in your own interesting ways too, offering energetic prayers and blessings and light to our wondrous planetary home, and all life upon her. Which is why I thought you’d enjoy hearing one of the ways I worked recently to do this.

Joining you in service to all,

Mayet Leilani
PS – the photo today is the first card I made on my first day of chanting and painting. Each card was different.

Beloved Light,

Long ago, at a fund-raiser, I heard someone talk about encountering people in small villages somewhere in Africa whose clay homes were covered by grass roofs that – for lack of nails – were weighted down by sandbags hanging from each corner of the roof.

The fundraiser was asking people to support the effort to get nails to the villages so they could build more stable structures. Whether this was a successful endeavor over time I don’t know, but it was the idea of easily removable roofs that stuck in my mind.

Convertible houses, was my thought. Like the top rolling back on a car, I imagined homes easily opening to a sunny day. Not a practical idea, but one that made me smile.

It made me think about nailing things down. Mentally, I mean. That’s a reflex when pain comes and other challenges. There’s the tendency then to retract, to batten the hatches, secure the decks, pin things and people down, isn’t there? Nails are best so they’re secured, so they can’t fly up and cause trouble again.

It made me wonder: How many times do I nail or weigh things down when I could, instead, throw them open to the sky?

Here’s an idea:
Next time we feel beset we could settle ourselves in a quiet place, taking time to become aware of the room. Then we could imagine rolling its roof back to the sky, letting the Light stream in, opening our hearts and minds to the warming, golden rays. I think I’ll give it a try next time. Since next time will likely come.

Just a little something to muse on.
Much love,

~ 💜 Mayet

Dear Forgetful One,

I have a dear friend who’s struggling with a painful experience from the past. Ive been there, haven’t you? There can be a lot of anguish and suffering when those old stories grab us by the scruff of our necks and shake us.

It’s tough work, that – working with old stories of pain and sorrow, dealing with the effect those experiences had on us. Spiritually speaking, we know they are just stories, but just because they are stories doesn’t meant they weren’t real.

I was thinking about that this morning when I talked with my friend.

I know from my own experience that the key is in being willing to let the story go. But it’s hard to explain how difficult that is, isn’t it? My guides used to say to me, Dare to Forget. They weren’t suggesting denial. They meant it was time to forget.

I think that’s a profound thought, and such an apt one. When contemplating it, I was shocked to notice how very threatening that idea felt to me at a visceral level.

Even the thought of just forgetting it aroused many uncomfortable and conflicting feelings in me, some of which came from a deep survival level. I could feel that forgetting the story, letting it go, actually threatened me.

Obviously at some level I believed that holding onto and remembering the story kept me safe in some way. So much so that the idea of just forgetting it made me feel almost a little panicky, if I was honest.

It was obvious to me that the pain, the anguish and resentments tied up in the story came back into me through the story as disturbing frequencies each time I remembered it. I didn’t want that anymore. But I could feel the visceral difficulty of not engaging in the story anymore. It held parts of my identity and it kept me alert and on the lookout for trouble. And other such benefits.

Such feelings were strongly held by a part of me that is less subject to reason. It’s a very challenging spiritual bit of work to reprogram that. But I’ve learned that the intense impulse to keep the story does eventually give way to my stronger consistent intent to let it go.

The story begins to come back less and less often until it becomes quite infrequent. Even so, such a story can occasionally return suddenly and mysteriously. But because I’ve done the work of Daring to Forget, I find it fairly easy to affirm that I am forgiveness itself and that old stories truly have no more relevance to now than any other past lives.

To those of you now doing the hard spiritual work of Daring to Forget an old story from your life, my heart is with you. You not only have my compassion but also my admiration. Transformation of painfully held experiences is brave work that helps us all.

We’ve all faced this and will yet again. It’s an important part of the spiritual curriculum of these times. The phrase Dare to Forget gives me permission as well as serves as a reminder that this is the higher task. It helps me unclutch, loosen my grip and let go of stuff. Perhaps you’ll like using it too.

Here’s to the relief of being able to forget and the gift of still remembering what I learned in it.

♥️ Mayet