Dear Friends,

As spring arrives later this month, I’ve been moving ever-so-slowly out of hibernation. I didn’t expect to go as far into my internal cave as I did — feeling distant from social media and the external world. Threshold moments often come quietly, unexpectedly, and unsettle the furniture. What was once your favorite armchair no longer cradles your body in the same way, but you haven’t yet found a comfortable new seat. These moments fall in-between what was and what is yet to come. It’s the pause before the arrival. A shift in perspective.

When Georgiana Houghton, the artist behind the paintings below, was forty-five, she heard and saw things at a neighbor’s séance that changed her view of life—that death was not an end, rather it was like moving into another room and talking through a wall. Her newfound belief in Spiritualism led her to see anew and to paint what she saw in the spirit realm. While we may not all have such literal shifts in sight ahead of us, we’re being called this month to lift our perspective and to observe differently.

What begins as a song ends as a story. It’s something you hear in the far-off distance, that grows closer with every step that you take. This song is your courage. It’s a melody to carry you forward as you step along a gravel path.

There’s a part of you that fears the sharp edges of the stones beneath your feet. A part of you that wonders how long you’ll have to travel in this way. A part of you that leaps ahead in thought rather than starting with that first step. There’s so much wondering and protecting… the walking of the path has yet to begin.

Anticipation is a strong surge through the body and brings up all kinds of questions and wonderings. Anticipation can be a delightful state of embodying the vision of the future that you wish to live into. It can also be a crutch, something that prevents action in the present.

We move your gaze from your feet up to the sky and the vast possibilities there. Trust in your feet to walk forward, to take that first step. Your eyes are better trained on the horizon rather than the worry of where your feet are stepping. Trust in them. They have carried you this far.

Your eyes hold new sight. A shift in perspective that will inspire and carry you on the wind of possibility. They see from a greater vantage point up here rather than looking down. See with this new perspective. Open to seeing in a new way. Allow yourself the chance to see anew.

The steps then happen naturally. It is through seeing in this way that you are magnetized forward. Tune your eyes on the horizon, tune your ears to the distant song, and begin to take steps knowing you are carried on that song. Courage.

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Prompt from the Records:

Close your eyes and open them, allowing your eyes to fall naturally on something. Close them and open again, allowing them to land on something new. Keep going with this as you take in more and more of your surroundings. See what you might not usually see. A thread that’s come loose in fabric. A glimmer of light on the wall. Train your eyes to see anew, knowing that what you are seeing in your space is also translating into seeing the world around you with new possibility.

Free yourself. Aquamarine is connected to the element of Water and its energetic flow promotes clarity, movement, and release. It wants to create space in your heart and your life for the new to emerge in sight. It’s gentle yet persuasive in how it liberates what needs to be released, whether that’s emotions, a situation, someone, or something. It washes clean attachments that are holding your present reality in a time warp. What have you outgrown? Where do you feel stuck? This stone is adept in the liminal space of the threshold because it knows that between old & new is the potential to conceive of what you long to bring into being. Aquamarine connects the heart and the throat energy centers, encouraging open communication that helps remove resistance and overcome fear of the unknown as you move through transitions.

When the Guides speak of standing at the base of the gravel path and getting caught in the details of what lies ahead, I can feel the stasis of inaction. For me, what I hear in the message, is the echo of my perfectionism. The instinctual reflex to delay, to ensure, to protect. A friend recently mentioned hearing a spiritual-someone say that perfectionism doesn’t exist. Yes, I thought, but also No... it absolutely exists. It’s the protective, turtle-like shell to a vulnerable interior of fear and anxiety.

I was painfully shy as a teenager—often hiding in class so I wouldn’t be called on and hesitant to try activities I thought I wouldn’t be good at. In the dread of saying the wrong thing or making a mistake, I failed myself before even trying. I was a blossoming perfectionist, excellent at observing, forecasting, and taking judicious steps forward. There’s a rigidity and paralysis in perfectionism. And what I’ve gleaned over these past thirty years is how to gently coax and encourage my head out of that turtle shell, no matter how slow. Start now, adjust later. The view is very different on the outside—what was dark and scary takes on a new perspective in the light of day.

So as we endeavor to turn our eyes upward from our feet to the horizon, taking in a shift in sight, maybe we pause to soak it all in, to let our bodies acclimate… What are you being shown? And then, like The Fool about to leap off the cliff, we take that step over the threshold.

Live your light,

Corinna

P.S. The monthly free sacred reciprocity Akashic Records reading is now available for March—you can find the code here to book the session.

P.P.S. I stumbled upon (and so enjoyed) this sound bath from the Memphis Gong Chamber. Best to listen with headphones. ;)