Releasing Guilt.
The Art of Regeneration.
Find yourself in a comfortable position where you aren't.
Let your body be supported.
Completely held.
By whatever is beneath you.
You don't have to hold yourself upright.
Take one deep breath in through the nose.
And let it go through the mouth with a sigh.
Let it be a signal to your body.
We are here now.
We are rising.
And then one more breath.
And at the same time as you breathe out,
Feel the weight of you settle deeper into the space and the area that you chose to be.
Right here on earth in this moment.
George here.
Bring your awareness gently downward.
Feel your feet or the base of your body connecting with the ground.
Imagine roots soft and living.
Spreading down from you into the dark warm earth beneath.
Not forcing.
Just growing.
Or reaching.
You are rooted.
You are safe.
This is your space.
Together in this space,
Let us call in our Sacred Circle.
The four directions and the animal guides that hold them.
As each one arrives,
Simply feel them present at the edge of your space.
Where you are held.
We begin in the East,
Where the sun rises and new light is born.
From the east we call it Egon.
Eagle sees the whole landscape,
The full picture.
Your life without judgment.
Eagle reminds you that you can rise above whatever has been tangled.
And see it from a wider view.
Now to the south,
Where the warmth lies and the heart speaks loudest.
From the south,
We call in deer.
Gently and courageously in the same breath.
Deer reminds you that softness is not weakness.
It's the beginning of healing.
Now to the west,
Where the sun sets.
And the deep inner world begins.
From the West we call in Bear.
Ancient,
Steady,
And wise.
There holds your capacity for deep healing.
And the bear is not afraid of what lives inside you.
And now to the North,
Where the stars are brightest and the ancestors speak.
From the North we call in Owl.
Silent,
Perceptive,
Unafraid of the night.
I'll remind you,
The dark does not swallow you.
It reveals you.
You are held in four directions.
Eagle,
Deer,
Bear,
And Owl stand at the edges of your sacred space.
You are enclosed in love.
And nothing enters here that does not belong.
And the center of the circle.
People in one more presence.
The One we came here for today.
Imagine at the center of your space.
That the ground beneath you gently changes.
The earth becomes cool and silken.
The air becomes soft as water.
And you find yourself standing or floating at the edge of something vast and deep.
The ocean.
It is warm,
Lit from within.
A deep blue-green glow like moonlight filtering through miles of water.
This is a place of deep knowing.
You step in.
And the water holds you perfectly.
Not dragging you up.
Not pushing you up,
Just hauling you.
You can breathe here.
You are completely safe.
You begin to drift,
Slowly.
Down towards the ocean floor.
And as you think,
You feel something loosen in you.
Something heavy that you've been carrying.
Not in your hands,
But in your chest,
In your belly.
Happy All Stories!
The things you wished you had done differently.
The moment you turned away.
And the words she said or didn't say.
A version of yourself you look back on.
And can't quite forgive.
He's been holding all of that for a long time.
And just let it be here with you now in the water.
You don't have to push it away.
Let it just flow the side here for this moment.
And then from the depth ahead of you,
Something begins to move.
Slowly.
Gracefully.
Like a liquid darkness finding its shape.
The Octopus.
She rise without sound.
Paid arms flowing around her like living silk.
Her skin shifts.
A pulse of colour moving across her body,
Soft copper,
Deep purple.
Pearl White.
As if she's breathing light.
She's agent,
She's intelligent,
She's not afraid of the dark water.
Or a few.
Or of anything that you have carried here.
She sees you.
And she moves closer.
This is the heart here.
The octopus carries no judgment.
She has never known guilt the way you know it.
She lives entirely in the present.
Expanding,
Creating.
Moving forward.
She has no room in her body for the past to harden into shame.
And yet,
She knows something about loss.
She knows about things they break.
Because the octopus can lose an arm.
And the world she moves through full of edges and dangers and unexpected encounters.
She can lose something that felt essential to her.
Something she used to reach with.
Something she used to feel with.
And she invites you to think about,
What do you know what she does?
She grows it back.
Not the same arm.
Not identical?
But something new grows in its place,
And it is hers.
It becomes part of her.
It becomes.
.
.
How she moves forward.
Just let that land for a moment.
What is the arm you lost?
What is the piece of yourself broke off?
In a moment of fear.
Of selfishness.
Or confusion or pain.
What did you do or fail to do that made you feel like something was gone from you?
The octopus looks at you with eyes that have seen centuries of ocean floors,
And she says,
Without a word,
But in a way you can feel through the water between you.
You are not broken.
You are regenerating.
The guilt you carry is not a life sentence.
It is a signal that you care.
That something mattered to you.
That you are capable of love.
And love sometimes makes mistakes.
But you have carrying this like a weight,
A tide around your ankles.
And the octopus is here to remind you.
You are not meant to sink.
The Octopus moves forward to you.
Imagine one of your soft,
Gentle arms reaching out.
Touching the place in your body where the guilt lives.
Your chest,
Your stomach.
Your throat.
Wherever it sits.
She doesn't pull away from you.
She doesn't force anything.
She rests there.
And feel beneath her touch,
Something is beginning to soften.
Like ice remembering its water.
And take a breath in.
And as you breathe out,
Release one thread of that guilt.
Just one.
You don't have to let go of everything today.
Guessed one.
And then breathe in again.
And as you breathe out,
Another threat.
Letting it dissolve into the water around you.
The ocean can hold it.
The ocean is fast enough.
And notice where that guilt was,
There is now space,
A little light.
A little room.
That's where the room is and the light is.
And new arm rows.
And then begin to feel yourself become lighter in the warm water.
And as the current is gently lifting you upwards to force the surface,
The octopus does not follow you.
This is her world.
She stays with you,
A part of her wisdom now woven into you.
The way all true encounters leave something behind.
Thinker.
In whatever way feels right.
A hand on your heart,
A simple thank you.
Thank you Octopus.
Teacher of the Deep.
Guardian of Regeneration Thank you for showing me what it is,
What it means to grow again.
And as you drift upward,
Back to the surface,
Back to the light.
Return once more to the circle that has held us.
In the North.
Thank you all.
In the West.
Thank you,
Bear.
To the south Thank you dear.
And to the east.
Thank you,
Eagle.
The circle is complete.
A circle is released.
And you carry its protection with you as you return.
Begin to feel the weight of your body again,
The chair beneath you and the floor beneath your feet.
Take a deep breath in.
All the way down to your belly.
Breathe out slowly.
And take another breath.
And it is time!
On the exhale,
Feel yourself arriving fully back,
Back into your body,
Back into your room.
Wiggle your fingers,
Your toes.
And when it feels right,
Place your hand on your heart.
You speak this part quietly,
Like a gift.
Today the octopus offered you this.
You do not need to pee.
Who you were in the moment you regret.
You are a living,
Growing creature.
And what has been lost.
What has?
Broken.
Is already becoming something new inside you.
Forgiveness is not forgetting.
It is choosing not to let the past take up space that belongs to your future.
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are regenerating.
Take a breath in.
I know I knew that ache.
Gently in your own times.
Open your eyes.
And welcome back.
Fucking home.
