victorialantz
Through a variety of creative expressions, Victoria Lantz brings to life her experiences of the Divine. She is an author, poet, podcaster, artist, preacher, song writer, meditation leader, spiritual gathering facilitator, and sacred listener. Her writings include God Is: An Accidental Mystic Discovers the Nature of God, Longing: Poems from a Mystic Heart, and Union: Mystic Musings and Stories. She also hosts the God Is Podcast available on iTunes and the You Have Been Invited Meditation Series available on Insight Timer. Additionally, she helps others embrace their spiritual journeys through her Let’s Get Real! gatherings and in one-on-one listening sessions. Currently living in Phoenix, Arizona, Victoria can typically be found hiking the desert landscape or playing her pineapple ukulele. Visit her website at VictoriaLantz.com.
Push me up against a wall and watch me flower. I thrive in tight spaces, under rocks, and behind shadows. If you look closely, you’ll see I’m deliberately leaning into the confinement, allowing the pressure to mold me. I’m pliant enough to enjoy it.
Jun 16, 2017
Jun 16, 2017 at 9:21 PM UTC
She was drawn to the center of the valley, where the night’s coolness lingered at sunrise. The sun lifted above the surrounding mountain peaks, silhouetting the hikers perched on bouldered precipices. Grounding herself into the concave depression, she closed her eyes as the others marveled at the sun. Her light was dawning within her.
Mar 10, 2017
Mar 10, 2017 at 1:33 PM UTC
Time travel and soul eyes swirling in a maelstrom of confusion. What is me and what is you and what is the merging between us. Drop your wingmen and speak into nothingness, letting the stardust settle into spirals. There we’ll find the truth.
Jan 31, 2017
Jan 31, 2017 at 11:32 AM UTC
Your rose petals litter the path ahead of me. Each time I spot a blush-colored oval, I run to the floral offering, taking in its sweet aroma before bathing my cheek in its soft delicacy. I’ll swear the one petal is all I need, but soon enough, I’m looking down the path for future silky delights. Will you tell me which one is your final offering, so I can savor it especially? I may have collected petals from dozens of roses, but the present one is always the most precious.
Jan 24, 2017
Jan 24, 2017 at 3:11 PM UTC
You grabbed me by the hair and led me out behind the woodshed. In the morning, you took in my purple eye, my lacerated arms, and my winced movement, and asked what had happened to me.
Your storm rolled in last night and caught me in its vortex. In the morning, you took in the downed tree limbs, the upturned picnic table, and the broken glass, and started playing in the standing water.
Your shadow threw a party last night and kept me up until 2 am. In the morning, you took in my slow walk to the shower, my two aspirins, and my dry toast, and asked if I wanted to go for a run.
No, I don’t want to put on my Nikes right now, no, I don’t want to splash in the puddles with you, and yes, I do know what happened to me.
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 9:09 PM UTC
When I’m vibrating at your frequency, the spark that lives behind my belly button jumps between two carbon rods. The electrostatic movement attracts others with similar circuits, but there are so few wired like me. When I do meet a parallel electric force, I can’t help but remove all of my resistors, letting the amperage rise. The resulting voltage causes most to recoil in fear, but occasionally a series connection occurs. The power in that circuit explodes me into you.
Jan 12, 2017
Jan 12, 2017 at 9:43 AM UTC
Surrender meant vulnerability. I didn’t see that coming. And when it happened, I had no choice but to rip out my heart and lay it at your feet. I’m hoping you won’t run away, slipping on the pool of blood that is blooming around us. I know the mess is scary and full of uncertainties, but if you place your heart on the floor next to mine, the convergence will be strong enough to keep all of our enemies at bay.
Jan 11, 2017
Jan 11, 2017 at 1:49 PM UTC
I fall out of orbit after 72 hours. Your vibrational force is weakened in the pull of my own insanity. I’m thrown into deep space, drifting without a tether. Only you can draw me back in, clasping your fingers around my soul, pulling me back into my Divine trajectory. But as I stray, your face gets lost in the backdrop of stars, until I at last close my eyes and pray to forget you.
Jan 10, 2017
Jan 10, 2017 at 10:00 AM UTC
How do I pray over this union? I want to wrap my arms around it and draw it into my chest, shielding it from all of the arrows turned our way. Taking deep breaths, I instead empty myself into it and pray you’ll do the same.
Jan 9, 2017
Jan 9, 2017 at 7:03 AM UTC
Every time she sees a cactus, her heart cracks back open, bleeding hurt all over her insides. The hurt colors her vision, dulling vibrancy to a lackluster grayscale. It muffles her hearing, deadening melody to a lifeless buzz. It desensitizes her tastebuds, quashing wine to stagnant water. It numbs her skin, anesthetizing the insides of her elbows to empty hollows. But her heart is not dulled, deadened, quashed, or anesthetized. Her heart is a throbbing, fiery ache of pain, longing for the desert.
Dec 30, 2016
Dec 30, 2016 at 1:34 PM UTC