My Book

My Book
To order your copy of The Lovely Knowing simply click on the book--copyright 2011 Mishi McCoy. All rights reserved. No part of this book or artwork may be stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Wednesday, January 24, 2018

Eye of the Needle

And going through the 'Eye of the Needle' required that I lay down my books of learning, my esteemed titles, my reputation, my gifts, my talents, my achievements, my loved life.... as I had known it.

And I bowed low, so low that I lay prostrate before the throne- empty, nothing and void of all that I had become. Twas then in one rapturous micro-moment that I felt a famliar hand from the otherworlds speaking, "Come and see all that is before you." -

Then I stood strong and bold and beheld....and though I had felt so small that my being could not fill a thimble, now I felt the limitessness of my expansion and expression- the inexpressible joy that no tongue nor pen could describe.

There on the other side a of gate called Narrow and a way called Straight was all that I had laid down. And before me was a refection of myself in a celestiel kingdom called Love.

Then I understood with crystalline vision and golden chords of Wisdom strumming the vibrant ribbons of my spirit that I have come to this earth willingly and of my own accord to fufill one purpose.

And so it is with all of my brothers and sisters of humanity.... for it is not relevant nor imperative for any of us to understand another's journey, but to fulfill our own.

The kingdom of heaven is within and we are.

To My Priestess Sisters

To my priestess sisters: the keepers of mysteries, the medicine women, the story keepers and story tellers, the holy magicians, the wild warriors, the original ones, the ones who carry the ancients within the marrow of your bones, the ones forged in the fires, the ones who have bathed in thier own blood, the heroines who wear thier scars as stars, the ones who give birth to their visions and dreams, the ones who weep and howl upon the holy altars, the avatars, the mothers, maidens and crones, the mystics, the oracles, the artists, the musicians, the virgins, the sensual and sexual, the women of our world-

I honor you. I stand for you and with you. I celebrate both your autonomy and our sisterhood of One Love. We are many. We are fierce. We are tender. We are the change agents and we are radically holding and clearing space for the bursting forth of the holy seeds of the collective conscience and consciousness. We are manifestors and flames of purification and transformation. We are living our lives in authenticity, vulnerability, transparency and unapologetically. We are committed to integrity, impeccability, accountability, responsibility and passionate love.

We are here on purpose, with purpose and give no energy to conformity, acceptance or approval. We are the daughters of the earth and the courageous of the cosmos.

Priestess, keep living your life passionately, raising the cosmic vibrations and lowering your standards for no one. You are brazenly blessed and a force of nature. Nurture yourself and one another.

You are a crystalline bridge between realms and uniting heaven and earth. You are a priestess and you are divinely
anointed, appointed and unstoppable.

On the Edge

"You offer your opinion of me and opinions can be most dangerous, especially based in judgment. Have I somehow failed to make it clear that it is to no effect to me of how you perceive me? Would you desire to drive me over the edge with your dark thoughts and snide intentions?

What a pretty mess I am. I have never denied it. This mess doesn't fear the edge. It is the edge, you see, where I dwell as a spinning top. Sometimes, in my clumsiness I tumble over the edge. I lose my breath as I descend and break upon the oceans jagged rocks.

I have no fear of being broken-wide open with my inwards exposed to the elements around me. Hovered over my own broken self, I cry....I sigh....I laugh. I laugh out loud and re-member why it is that I came to earth. I arrived to be broken, to be broken, to be broken-again and again.

But, oh, My Darlings, you see, I have grown accustomed - even fond of the brokeness. It is there, in the brokeness that I discover what I'm made of. I assure you, I am made of that which can not be destroyed.

I appreciate your consideration in attempting to shape me, change me, break me as to fit your comfy desire. I must refuse your offer. It just isn't enough for me to dwell in the little box and keep quiet. I came here to live-out-loud, to stand proud and take my rightful place. If my pace makes you uncomfortable, please do-move on."
-Mishi McCoy

Friday, October 27, 2017

An Expression on Death and Grief

This is a photo that my daughter took the morning of my birthday. It was also the day of death and rebirth for my little Chihuahua companion of 15 years, Samson. I had always showered Samson with great love and adoration, even to the extent that my Uncle Keith said, "If reincarnation does exist, I want to come back as Mishi's dog." I had spent the last few years taking 'extra' special care of him as he had developed congestive heart failure. I knew the day of his departure from the earth plane would come. I also knew that I would never be 'ready' for that day.

Three weeks before his transition, my husband and I sat in the vet's office for 4 hours with Samson while he experienced a grand seizure. The vet would not tell me that we should euthanize him, but rather said that I had given him the best care and quality of life possible and offered euthanasia as a gentle and humane option. With my heart rent in pieces, I agreed that this may be best. I reluctantly released Samson to begin the procedure.

The vet's assistant took Samson from my arms and into hers, she walked away with him. He made eye contact with me and even though the vet said that Samson wasn't coherent, I realized that he now was. His eyes spoke to me that he wasn't ready to be parted from me either. I yelled, "Stop! I want to take him home! He isn't ready and neither am I." As he laid in my arms seizing, I offered up a prayer. It wasn't some memorized prayer or half-hearted plea, it was me speaking directly to God with full attention and intention of my heart's desire. I asked God to give me and Samson three more days together and to stop the seizures.

By the time we arrived back to our bed, where Samson had spent the last 15 years in my lap, cradled in my arms or nestled against me, his seizure had stopped. He was now barking and dancing around my bed demanding food and water. A miracle had transpired. My prayerful request had been granted.

Samson and I were not given the gift of three more days together. We were given exactly three weeks. I continued to speak to him and tell him daily of how much he meant to me and how grateful I was for him. The night that he began to transition, I held him and told him that if he was tired, he could use his beautiful wings and take flight to Great Spirit.

I held his tiny 3 pound essence through the long night and at 8:28 a.m., he took his final breaths in my arms as our eyes bathed in one another's souls. I was crushed beneath the weight of grief, but grateful for the peaceful transition I experienced with Samson.

I wrapped him in a blanket and for the next several hours I held him. I loved him. I told him all that was in my heart to tell him. I gave thanks for our many years together and for every single occasion that flooded my memory, I expressed my gratitude to him. I did what I needed for as long as I needed to release my sorrow and my joy of our bond and life as we had known it on this earth plane.

Within those 5-6 hours, our family including my young grandsons held Samson and expressed their love for him and their sorrow of his crossing. When I felt I was ready, we placed Samson in a special adorned box with my slippers, a crystal and some other gifts that my children and grandchildren wanted him to have with him. We gathered outside my bedroom window with the skies pouring tears of rain over us and laid Samson's body to rest in a tear-shaped rock garden that my daughter had created months before this sad day.

During the hours that I held Samson, some loved ones became concerned that not burying him immediately was unhealthy for me. This may be in part that I have always been eccentric and don't always offer explanation as to why I do things as I do. This isn't always easy for others to comprehend or understand. It is also often uncomfortable for others when I go against the grain of society, tradition and norms in order to follow the Voice whose guidance I follow.
I also realize that those same loved ones have been there to bear witness to the tragic and traumatic events in my life that have literally almost killed me.

I do want to share now why I held Samson for so many hours after his 'death'.

First and foremost, Samson had taken his last physical breath, but his soul and spirit were still very present until 7 hours later. That unfolds into the second explanation in which I hope that others will feel comfortable in breaking free from the taboo ideology surrounding death, grief and the utmost importance of reverence and sacredness of how we choose to honor both the memory of our loved ones and how we choose to ceremoniously honor our own grieving process.

The passing, death, rebirth, crossing over or what name we give to losing relationship and life as we have known it with a loved one is deeply intimate and personal. That fact alone deserves to be respected, honored and understood as sacred and holy. I continue to give honor to Samson, our time together and my pain of physical separation from him. I cry openly, let others know when I need a time-out for time to feel my feels and continue to have ceremony in whatever way that our love calls for in a given moment. The grieving process has no expiration date.

I hope that sharing my heart may help someone else, but in all honesty, I expressed our story in honor of a lasting kinship. I still carry the bittersweet sting of loss and truest expression of the pain I feel every day from missing Samson's physical presence these past 4 and a half months. This expression is another way to help me cope.

We truly do not need anyone else's permission or approval to heal the best way we choose in any given moment. Moments are what life and love gift us with. We may choose to give energy to each moment as we desire. I hope we all learn to honor our pain and give life to the pain of death that desires to be recognized as sacred, holy and wholly undeniable. 💖

In fierce and passionate love,
Mishi McCoy

“Give sorrow words; the grief that does not speak knits up the o-er wrought heart and bids it break.”
― William Shakespeare

“Grief can be a burden, but also an anchor. You get used to the weight, how it holds you in place.”
― Sarah Dessen

Attached is a link that reveals Samson revealing his new life to me through his appearance as a beautiful liberated butterfly.

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Plight of the Vacillating Being

This particular writing has been rejected by a few magazines. I received responses such as, "Is this a poem, prose, or what exactly?" and "Thank you for your beautiful writing, but I feel unsure that the readers will comprehend the point that you are attempting to make in this particular writing. It is, perhaps, a bit too esoteric for the average reader."

I can say that I am accustomed to such responses in regards to my personal style of writing, but I am left feeling unsettled that anyone would underestimate the innate and brilliant intelligence of any audience that belongs to the human race. After all, we are spirit beings having a human experience and our comprehension of this excels at an accelerated rate. Our ability to understand the perplexities of living the human life as spirit beings should never be assumed as one that we are incapable of comprehending.

So, for you, I share this expression from the deep, ancient well of my own Life force. I believe in your ability to 'get me' because it is your plight as well as mine. Even if this expression is considered esoteric or mystical, I believe in our ability to fully conceive and embrace the fact that we are all living as physical beings with our feet rooted in the ground of the earth plane and as spiritual beings with our hearts and heads in the celestial planes. We are all finding our balance on the tight rope between these realms.

Evelyn Hill eloquently stated,
“In mysticism that love of truth which we saw as the beginning of all philosophy leaves the merely intellectual sphere, and takes on the assured aspect of a personal passion. Where the philosopher guesses and argues, the mystic lives and looks; and speaks, consequently, the disconcerting language of first-hand experience, not the neat dialectic of the schools. Hence whilst the Absolute of the metaphysicians remains a diagram —impersonal and unattainable—the Absolute of the mystics is lovable, attainable, alive.”

So, here is a shout out to the mystic in each of us and the disconcerting language of the messy, yet gloriously beautiful truth of being a spirit being having a human experience.

The vicissitudes I have experienced since entering the mortal portal have left a longing for deeper degrees of perfection. I must return to the sea of quickening virtue and superior Spirit before dwelling again on land. A fountain has opened in the desert of my dry and thirsty soul.

My spirit doesn't thrive in murky, muddied waters of the earth and so I return to the fair ocean of Love, where sweet Sophia swims with me in deep. I won't return with empty hands, but with flowing, everlasting crystalline. The abyssal chambers of my soul burst with sweet life force exploding into the zenith of celestial beings.

They sing my name in their own divine tongue. I hear the echoes of a thousand choirs of joyful voices resounding in perfect pitch. My heart joins with them in remembrance and longing of my place among them. I once sang the songs of eternal jubilee; they are forever etched into my heart. I surrendered them for songs of sorrow in my chosen human form.

Sophia, encapsulating Wisdom, reminds me that through the ballads of human affliction the celestial beings are moved in passionate, tear- intoxicating dance. I see them gliding across the celestial floors as stars lighting the darkened earthen skies. Oh, yes, my soul is at rest. I understand that we are all ineffably positioned throughout the Cosmos to dance the all encompassing emotional Tango of mystery, love and life.

I return to my place among humanity rejuvenated, invigorated, and intoxicated with overflowing hands and heart of infinite bliss. I am sustained until deeper degrees of perfection weigh me down to raise me up again. It is the inexpressible, bittersweet plight of a supernatural being experiencing a human life!

copyright 2015 Mishi McCoy. All rights reserved. No part of this writing may be stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Look for my Featured articles in OM Times Magazine

Saturday, October 15, 2016

Clear Your Heart

It is my experience that there is a distinct difference in clearing our head of thoughts and clearing our heart of feelings. While we can be driven to the point of stressful breakdown by allowing discordant thoughts to ignite and confuse us; we have a healthier choice to allow our hearts to break open and acknowledge our feelings. This process enables us to diffuse our emotions and the end result is healing and freedom.

What I know is this- clearing our mind alone will not heal us. What we refuse to deal with cannot be healed. Healing for the psyche and the body truly comes from deep soul healing and the inner working of Spirit. It comes from a place of acceptance and assurance. It comes from the deepest chambers of our heart.

While our thoughts may serve to integrate healing, we are emotional beings and our feelings play a crucial part in healing from the wounds of our past, the anxiety of the future and the present day stress we may encounter.

It is necessary to be courageous enough to feel our way through the dark and into the light. It is necessary to sit with our pain and acknowledge it in order to release it and be free from it's burdensome toll. While moving through these feelings of insurmountable opposition, we are able to acknowledge the beauty in the breakdown. Even sweeter, we are able to recognize our own capacity to shine in wholeness as we feel ourselves being built love....where we belong.

When we have faced the darkness of our wounds then we no longer fear the darkness. We embrace it and while being the alchemists that we are, we transform it into the unquenchable fiery love flame that is us. I believe Charles Bukowski made a beautifully bold statement in his quote, "Stop insisting on clearing your head- clear your fu*king heart instead." It is in the heart that the jewels of feeling, consciousness and conscience can be found. It is in the heart that we must rid ourselves of what ails us (old and no longer serving our highest good). This is essential to make space for expansion of heart toward all that we truly desire (new and constant in the flow for our highest good).

What do we have to lose by clearing our hearts? We lose our minds, but in the most precious sense of loss. We become free from torment and gain a beautiful new perspective. We lose the burden of our wounds and gain the liberty of wholeness. This is what we so deeply yearn for. Clear your heart and the mind will follow. You are worthy of the process.
Love, Mishi