Separateness is the Poison, Connection is the Cure

I don't know about you, but I'm tired of being bombarded with images of separateness.

It seems we're being fed this illusion of separateness at every angle. From news headlines to social media feeds and even within our own bodies or our relationship with nature, we're being fed it so much that we consume it without even thinking. Much like a starving animal would unknowingly devour meat that had been poisoned, we're often doing the same. We unknowingly devour what it is we believe we need, only to wonder why our spirit is slowly dying.

Messages of separateness can sound like blatant and harsh racism, misogyny, homophobia, or hate-filled political division. There are times the poison feels obvious if you're moderately aware and hold the capacity of having empathy for others. But they can also be far more subtley worked into the systems and ways of being that we are a part of. This type of poison can even appear in the form of something that seems healthy from the outside. Yet when you question why you're feeling unfulfilled or unwell, it's hard to pin-point the reason.

For example, you have an active and present family or social group. Yet after gathering together you are left feeling depleted from conversations that lack acceptance of those who differ from themselves in cultural backgrounds or ways of living. Perhaps you participate in a faith community, but you're beginning to notice that the values taught or preached are not actually being lived out. You may have been taught that the Divine is a separate entity from yourself and to be feared, rather than living through you and the expression of your spirit through love, service, and creativity.

Maybe you're starting to feel the unnatural beat of a family that spends less than an hour a day together all week due to a slew of activities and extra-curriculars stacked upon work and school, and just when you begin to flow in rhythm together once again... it starts all over. You may have seen a series of different medical and health specialists only to still feel unwell as a whole human being because nobody has taken the time to listen and care for your whole self rather than the segments that appear to be what is "wrong" with you. You realize you've never been taught how to listen to the wisdom of your own body and its special language.

This subtlety of separateness occurs every time you step outside without noticing the colors and beauty of the trees, the sound of birdsong, or truly feeling the refreshing breeze in your rush to get to where you're going. It occurs when we don't pause to marvel at the miracle of a sunrise, nor understand that our animal friends are our brothers and sisters on this planet and treat them with indifference.

We see this separateness in so many different aspects of our lives. In each way, they accomplish the same purpose. Separateness creates friction needed to maintain a control and hierarchy. Connection creates unity that fosters a natural sense of peace.

This weekend was an incredible reminder for me of the fulfillment of connection. With how beautiful the fall weather was predicted to be, we set up our tent alongside the Cedar River for a family camping weekend. I was a bit nervous about making sure I got enough sleep and had everything ready to go for my market morning the next day, but as soon as we got settled beside the water I felt a deep sense of peace wash over me. Ahhhh... nature connection.

First, I felt like my body could finally exhale the stresses of the week and breathe deeply. I felt the connection of the earth below me, nature sounds all around us. I reconnected with the elements of earth, water, fire, and air, and in doing so felt my energetic balance returning to center. Then, I noticed the same effect with our kiddos. They went from bickering in the car to working and playing together almost instantaneously. We connected with the beings all around us, thanking the giant oak tree for protecting our camping site and giving home to so many creatures.

We observed fish jumping, geese and ducks flying over, and the soaring gracefulness of a golden eagle. A bullfrog joined us (or perhaps we joined them) and the kids giggled at the sight of raccoon poop beside the little footprints in the soft sand as they looked through their nature trail guide. Catching sight of a majestic blue heron, I traded my journal for my sketchpad and reconnected with my joy of creating art through drawing. Overnight the owls and coyotes could be heard connecting with one another in their uniquely distinct calls.

Morning rose and it was time for connection of a community. We rubbed our eyes and were invigorated by the damp and cool morning air before returning to our home so I could gather my tent, tables, books, and flowers before making my way to the Cedar Falls Farmer's Market. Upon setting up I had a woman from another vendor table wander over and pick up my book. Sharing a glimpse into what a healing journey she was on, she picked up a copy of Empaths at the Edge. This same beautiful soul popped over later on to share that she knew the timing of this book and being at the market together was meant to be. Thanking me for sharing what she'd already begun to page through, she went about her day feeling more connected with her needs and inner truth.

As the morning progressed there was connection in the form of passing smiles, and the sharing of home-grown, home-made, and locally created art. A group of young women who attend the University of Northern Iowa (the college in town) paused to admire and take photos with my zinnia bouquets. I offered for them to choose a bookmark, each with a special affirmation message printed on it. One gal grinned as she held it up to her friends, all of which nodding and agreeing that this was exactly what she needed to receive this morning. I smiled, thinking of the love that went into making them with my own dear friend and soul sister the day before as she helped me juggle the kiddos and my work. A mother with two children herself paused to chat for a moment before I invited her to pick a bookmark. She shook her head in amazement and chuckled as she shared that her family was moving the next day, but there were lots of pieces to fall into place yet. Her affirmation? "Let go of what you cannot control." We met one another's gaze with loving connection and wished each other well on our adventures.

Children joyfully played my handpan drum that was resting on a blanket for them to explore, and parents/grandparents/teachers brought home my new children's book created to foster connection. A little buzzing bumblebee friend paused to enjoy my flowers and I looked over to notice a fuzzy caterpillar that had somehow wiggled its way beside my poetry book.

I was visited by friends that delighted me to share in hugs and a moment of connection, as well as two incredible humans who share their gifts of spiritual perception. Each practicing in the field of spiritual healing and angel reading, their presence reminded me of my own gifts and abilities... feeling seen and understood within an area of life that I was often made to feel isolated. And again, like every market morning I've taken part in this season, my heart overflowed with gratitude as I packed up my little booth for the depth of connection enjoyed.

Then it was home for a quick reset before bustling off to celebrate a beloved friend's wedding. My date for this wedding was not my husband however... instead I got to bring my daughter! As she excitedly gave herself the role of my fashion designer, I realized how long it had been that just the two of us got to go do something special together. This connection of mother and daughter often got overshadowed by the needs of a younger sibling (despite all enjoying time together)... but that night we got to share in something we both loved immensely, dancing!

The evening was a special celebration of a woman who has grown to embrace the beauty of her own unique self and be loved exactly as she is. My eyes had to be dabbed multiple times as the couple's connection with the Divine, one another, and their families was acknowledged. I looked around the dinner table with adoration at sisters who had been my lifeline when navigating early motherhood with the daughter who now sat beside me nearing the age of eight. While not blood-related, they chose to show up beyond the nanny hours agreed upon in their college days, and continue to share in the connection of love and support as they entered into motherhood and moved across the country. As we moved to the dance floor, these beloved sisters were joined by their fun and kind parents who exemplified this love. Our daughter made a new friend connection of the same age and danced (+ glow light-saber fought a playful groomsmen) together, not wanting to leave their newfound kinship.

Once time to do so, we returned to our campsite and reconnected with my husband and son who were cuddled beside the fire. Though exhausted from the delightful day, I snuggled both children into their cozy sleeping nests in the tent and returned outside to my husband. Gazing at the stars, I shared the verses read at the ceremony, and how the day reminded me of our own over ten years ago now.

The next day I chose to decline a dear friend's invitation to celebrate fall with apple-picking. While I was delighted at the thought, it was time to revisit a much needed connection... my connection with myself. And my self needed rest.

Cozying in to an afternoon nap back home in my bed, I reflected on being tired but so deeply joyful and fulfilled. You know the kind where you feel like every cell has woken up to embrace the joy of life? Why was it that I could feel soooo physically tired, but so darn good?

Connection.

I'd reconnected with loved ones who see me for me. I'd celebrated connections of love, reconnected with nature, and made entirely new connections while sharing little pieces of my heart in the form of books. My family had reconnected and recentered, and we reconnected with the goodness of the Divine and the beauty of Mother Nature all around us. In each phase of the eventful weekend, I moved with my whole body, mind, and spirit... and I believe that is the cure.

We aren't separate from others. We aren't better than or worse than. We aren't separate from nature, nor from our families and communities. We aren't separate from our natural surroundings, and we certainly aren't separate from the sacred presence of the Divine. We cannot poison one aspect of our life or someone else's without expecting that poison to flow right back to us. This poison might be hate or violence. But it also might be a subtle separateness.

The cure is connection.

Healing & Peace,

Ashley Kay