Ivory Towers and Two of Wands

Let me tell you something. When you’ve grown up in an ivory tower, deciding to jump, or step, or repel, or however you decide to descend is scary as fuck. It’s not the actual getting oneself to the ground that’s terrifying, it’s the decision to do so. I jumped out of that tower some time ago, leapt clear into the sky and plummeted towards the ground, braced myself for a rough impact that never came. Mother Earth is soft when she needs to be, especially her rich, loamy soil of the ground around the tower, exactly the distance from the base that I was able to leap. I’ve stood up, dusted myself off, checked for injury (there was none), and now I’m having a look around here. Damn it’s nice out here, down here! I should have done it sooner.

Here, let me tell you about books and stories in the tower. It’s not that they’re bad … it’s just that there are so few of them. There’s not a lot of space up there at the tippy top of the tower so there are only like a dozen or so books or stories that circulate around there. In fact, one of the books is about how there are only seven stories in the world. They tell themselves this so they feel less bad about how few stories they have. And then they argue over which are the seven stories that should be allowed into the tower. They have systems for allowing some stories in and keeping some stories out. If enough people read one particular book, for example, they might throw another book out the window to make room for the more popular one. Sometimes a group of tower dwellers will get together and create an award and give it to that book and then that book is allowed to stay in the tower. Sometimes all it takes is one of more powerful tower dwellers to choose a book and then it gets to stay. Other times, someone will pay for a ginormous book and it will block out all the other stories. They’ve said that they are trying, they are really, really trying to get more books and stories in there, but, as they’ve explained, they really just don’t have all that much space. They say this and click their teeth, suck in air, and say, “sorrrrrry” and then make a really apologetic face.

Looking back, I’m really struggling to remember why it was so difficult to choose to leave.

Down here. Well, just look around. There are stories everywhere. Some in the form of books, yes, but also just, well, floating through the air and growing up through the earth, and in the flames of the fires, and on kitchen stovetops, and underneath beds and, well, you get the point.

Where do I even begin? Sometimes, a book has been handed to me by a friend. Yes, there are still awards here, so sometimes I’ve found it on a list or in a review or on social media or from a podcast. And sometimes, honestly, it’s the book that’s found me.

Such was the case with Remember Who the F*ck You Are by Candyss Love.

This is a self published book and self-published books are not allowed in the tower (or at least not in the towers I’ve been in) so, honestly, it’s one of the first ones I’ve read. I want to throw adjectives like sunning and authentic and heart-felt but none of those quite do justice. This book is comprised of page or two long …. meditations? essays? letters? Yes. Yes. And yes. And then some. Candyss Love recommends reading one section (titles include, “How many versions of yourself have you exiled?” “Don’t Manifest it, Heal for it”, “KARMA is not your personal assassin”, “forgiveness doesn’t mean re-entry”.) each day. And I did that, for the most part, although, admittedly there were days that I didn’t read, which even that feels providential because each of the sections seemed to come to me right when I needed them. It was like sitting down with a friend each day and having a real, deep conversation. That’s part of why it feels as if this book found me. If you’re reading this now, consider that perhaps it’s now finding you.

A few quotes from the Remember Who the F*ck You Are:

When we tell our stories we get to see how much alike we all are, how connected we all are and how much we share so many of the exact same experiences. When we hear other people’s stories our spirits start to connect on a deeper level and this opens the heart to learn more compassion, patience, and understanding. When we tell our stories, it gives others the confidence to come out of their shadows, to embody the power attached to their story and to stand firm in who they are and their experiences. When you own your story, you take your power back. (Page 104.)

Anytime I write anything, it feels like a sixth sense, like a nudge or a voice. I never plan what I’m going to write, I don’t make outlines or rough drafts like we were taught in school. I just write from my soul and when I feel it or I’m given a topic from my spirit I stop everything I’m doing to write that thought out and follow wherever it leads me. (Page 247.)

When you’re healing, what you feel doesn’t always have to be identified. (Page 292.)

When you allow yourself to take up space you begin to see how beautifully your world expands and you become a conduit and teacher to others that secretly wish they could do the same. Take up space, love, exude the greatness that you are. Those that mind don’t matter and those that matter don’t mind. Period.

In other words. Get out of the tower. I promise the landing is soft.