Trying To Process Events Going On In The World As Well As In Myself

I did this video last night, but I’m just now posting it.  It’s not my favorite video.  I restarted it 3 times and had to fight throughout to not just completely give up on the video, and then it’s long on top of it.  (Jenn, you’re such a great salesperson, how could I not watch it with such a great endorsement).  I’m trying to make sense of things for myself at the moment regarding things going on both in the greater world as well as myself personally.

I say nonsensical things like, “It’s like bridge under water.”  When I’m in this ‘trying to figure it out’ phases, I say a lot of things in an effort to try and connect things to see what is really trying to be shown or said by something bigger than me.  So some of the things I say are fleeting and not necessarily *true*, but just fluffing up all of the pieces that seemed to be involved to see what goes together.  I am feeling out how things feel when saying them to distinguish whether it belongs in the equation or not.  This is a process I go through looking for the bread crumbs that relate together to show me the direction I should be going.

This is me in flux, in extreme flexibility.  I’m not actually judging people and events, I’m just feeling them out.  I hear myself constantly trying to clarify what I mean when I say anything that may suggest that I am being unfair about something I say about other people (such as coworkers) in my life.  I don’t want the things I say to be taken out of context, I don’t want to hurt other’s feelings, and no I don’t want to be unfair to other people because I’ve been on the receiving end of that far too much.  But at the same time, it totally throws off my flow about what I’m trying to say because whatever I’m saying about them isn’t the point that I’m trying to get to.

I definitely halt my expression by trying to be too sensitive about what I say about others in my life, like I don’t get to have my own perspective or opinion about how I am experiencing my own life.  I think that plays into me feeling like I don’t get to have my own feelings.  I do tend to get attacked when I try to express how situations are making me feel that involve other people.  I’m sure it’s something to do with the way I go about doing it, my presentation or perhaps the people I’ve surrounded myself with in the past.  Some people will attack me for trying to say my side, and when I get upset about it, they’ll tell me to not take it so personally . . . and then my feelings really get hurt because it seems like them attacking me for having my own feelings, was them taking it personally.

I struggled in this video by not letting myself stop it or give up and by attempting to say what I’m really feeling even if it gets misinterpreted or misunderstood and so it’s a very uncomfortable video for me and it was even harder to make myself publish it and now post it.  I did keep filtering myself and trying to be “fair” to everyone and so there’s moments where I start to break through that and just say what I’m really feeling and then moments where I go back to restricting myself or feeling ashamed of what I’m saying.  This is all really good for me.  This is further helping me get past worrying about other’s responses or reactions to me.

It helps every time I get a favorable or supportive response, because it starts to rewrite in me what usually happens when I express myself.  It will eventually reach a point where I won’t be able to say that people respond to me unfavorably because it will no longer be true for me.  While I could get to a place of not caring about what other’s say on my own, I don’t have to fight quite so hard to do it when I start receiving different responses from others than what I’m used to.  My audience tends to be very silent and for the most part I’ve come to peace with that, but I’m seeing how much better and easier it is for me to push through when someone does respond in a more supportive way such as a recent commenter, Supreet, has been doing.  He says things in a more open, Aries-like way, and not so judgmental or closed and I can’t say how much I appreciate it.  His sharing his thoughts that people normally keep to themselves, does help give me courage to keep trying.  It does help me feel like I’m less alone in my fight and struggle to find my true voice and express it without fear.

It helps me see that it’s a two way street.  I’ve always taken responsibility for all my relationships failing because I didn’t know that the other person was suppose to contribute more to the relationship.  Whenever someone starts to contribute or share from their side, I feel such a burden come off of my shoulders, like it’s not ALL up to me.  I don’t have to do all of the work for things to happen or work out.  Having that contrast from what I normally experience with others, shines such a light on what I’ve been really dealing with.  Others don’t show up for life or for their relationship with me.  They are checked out and so yes I am left alone.  It’s not all my fault.

At any rate, here’s the video, and when I get more time I’ll come back to give a couple of links for the earthquake that I spoke about in the video.

Edit to add:  Here’s a link to the video where the man walks through the town right after the earthquake has happened.

And here’s another one with the view over the rooftops.  Since then, they’ve added a lot of annoying boxes making it hard to see the actual video, but I just wanted to point to this one specifically since I spoke about it in my video.

And one more with a compilation of 3 different videos.  The 3rd video, is one where I dreamt of an identical street and thoroughfare about a year or so ago.

Not So Bad After All

I’m starting to really gain traction in overcoming a lifelong fear and so I’m going to keep throwing myself into the fire.  I’m posting and putting myself out there more, even at work.  Although I’m barely getting a response, it’s like crickets out there.

That kind of hits at the core of my fear though, you know?  Like I finally start to come out of hiding and the reception is luke warm at best.  Luckily my focus is more on trying to do whatever I’m doing for my own personal enjoyment.

It felt really nice doing the video yesterday.  I was the most relaxed I can ever recall being in a situation like that.  I was much more comfortable in my skin.  Kind of like, hey . . . this isn’t so bad.

The biggest thing I’m learning out of the video blogs though, is from watching them myself later.  I know all of the things that were going through my head during that time, and it’s quite a different experience seeing what it looks like from the outside.

I find that my favorite parts, are the ones that normally I would’ve stopped the recording and started all over again to edit them out.  I’m seeing firsthand how I edit myself out of my life constantly.  Living it, I know exactly why I do it . . . but watching it from the other side, I’m like WHY in the HELL are you doing that?!  Let her come out more!

The parts where silly me slips out like when I crack myself up, can feel embarrassing to me on the inside, like “Woops, I wasn’t supposed to do that, I’m a grown up and grown ups don’t act like that.”

From this other perspective, I am understanding less why I worry so much about how people will receive me.  Watching as if I were meeting me for the first time, I find myself feeling, “I like this person.  I really like her.  If I were to meet someone like her in life, she would be my lifelong friend.”

The biggest shock of all is what I didn’t see.  I have all of these impressions and perspectives from what has been reflected back to me by others that I’ve been close to in life.  Those things absolutely do not match what I see.  From doing this exercise I’m only now becoming truly aware of how much what other people have projected onto me, isn’t me.

Prior to these vlogs (ah ah ah . . . sesame street count), I had never watched myself on video.  I never got to experience me for myself.

I’m not sure what I was expecting.  A villain?  Horns to appear when I began speaking?  My eyes to turn blood red?  I was expecting more of an attitude to be coming out of me.  I was expecting to look like I was just totally full of shit.  I was expecting to be annoyed or irritated by me.  I was expecting to watch me and be like, “I hate you, you disgust me.”  I was expecting to see hints of arrogance and like I was holier than thou.  Like I was trying to be something I’m not.  Like I’m trying to be better than I really am.

But after watching?  My perception about myself is changing vastly, because I’ll tell you something . . . if I were to meet someone like me in life, I wouldn’t even dream of treating her like I’ve been treated.  In fact, it’s appalling when I look back on my life.  My respect for about a dozen or so people in my life just totally went into the toilet, along with their ability to influence me.

I am very happy to have been able to meet and see me for myself so that I no longer have to take other people’s word for it.  I’m used to stories of people facing themselves in the mirror and not liking what they see.  I don’t know that I’ve ever heard of a story of someone facing themselves in the mirror and being surprised by how much they like who they see.

This is all I needed, I just needed to know for myself that I am not as horrible of a person as I thought.  That’s something I can take to my heart and give myself a safe harbor to weather storms.  From there, it’s okay if you don’t like me.  It’s okay if I’m alone.  It’s okay if I’m invisible.

I faced and judged myself with the same measures in which I judge others, and I experienced something completely unexpected.  I really like who I am.  If I were a man, I would adore, protect, and cherish someone like me.  I would do anything to make her happy and to keep her smiling and laughing.  If I were another woman meeting me, I would want to be best friends for life and would give thanks to the heavens every day that I had her in my life and would go on crazy girl adventures, getting into trouble and enjoying the hell out of life.

If I’m able to feel that way about myself, then there’s just no excuse for me allowing otherwise into my life.

Fought For Me

Go Know Life, Go Know Love

Yesterday I wrote how I had to grow enough as a person just to have the experience and strength needed to begin healing childhood hurts.  It seems that was a foretelling of what was going to begin emerging today.

The last few days in the Pacific Northwest have been absolutely beautiful.  I couldn’t ask for more perfect weather.  It’s been so over the top gorgeous, it has been softening my temperament (which is by default high-strung).  And with current planetary transits . . . omg, there is so much love and feel-goods coming through too.

I haven’t felt so great health-wise the last couple of years, and I definitely haven’t felt much like myself.  It’s all inter-related to a relationship with a man I was engaged to for a short time 3 years ago.  It began with such a whirlwind of magic and a mountain of impossible coincidences that were threaded throughout both of our lives.  All of the pieces of our individual puzzles matched up perfectly to form the most beautiful big picture I had ever witnessed with my 3rd eye.

I hope he forgives me for speaking of it so openly.  He still comes here even though we no longer speak.  I mean no disrespect.

When we met, my heart and mind were alight with possibilities and dreams of our future life together.  Things that we dreamt of together.  When we met, I was in the best place emotionally that I had ever been in my life.  Just prior to our meeting, I had finally reached wholeness within.  Peace.  My world was aglow.  I was in the process of learning how to sustain it indefinitely.  I was in it more than not.

It made perfect sense and came as a natural flow into my life just like everything else was at that time.  I was not in need of a relationship, I did not seek it, but there it was.  I thought, finally, I will get this right.  I will get to know what it feels like to have a healthy relationship, not one based on co-dependency.  I thought my ship had arrived.  I had taken a 7 year break from relationships to understand who I was outside of one.  (Strangely the same period between the two Venus eclipses that are 7 years apart and won’t repeat in our lifetime.)

The planets were literally aligned for us.

Despite endless heartbreaks from relationships earlier in my life, I was ready to give love another chance.  Me and my warrior heart.  I was so convinced of us, I went all in.

My faith and belief in the magic of us carried me through the next three years.  In hindsight, I can see that things were showing signs of not being okay before the end of the first year we had met.  We had initially spoke of making immediate plans to come together.  He lives in The Netherlands, and of course moving to another country takes some time and planning.  So when things didn’t immediately happen, I was patient.  I went over there three times the first year we were together.  We skyped every weekend and even weekdays.

My friends excitedly kept asking for updates on the progress of our plans, and at first it was easy to explain.  “Oh, there’s so much paperwork for marrying a US Citizen and precautions that it’s taking a bit of time.”  “Well he has his finances and real estate he has to take care of over there first.”

But a point came where I heard myself repeating these excuses and I could feel how it was hurting my feelings.  After 6 months it was too humiliating to give any excuses, especially when absolutely zero progress of any kind had been made, and so I found myself just looking down and quietly saying, “I don’t know.”

We broke up in November 2013.  But no matter how much I tried, I couldn’t forget him.  We began speaking again in March 2014.  Regardless of our intentions, things never progressed further for us.  It wasn’t from a lack of trying.  Then one day, I found I had nothing left to say.  I guess neither did he because he didn’t respond.  After years of daily correspondence, two weeks of silence passed between us.  When he finally did send me a short friendly note, I had retreated too far inside of myself to respond.  That was the last of our communication.

I’ve been struggling with it, but mostly I have been focused on trying to regain my health.  Also, I don’t have anyone in my life to talk to about it.  I have friends, but nobody I’m close to.  Nobody that I feel comfortable talking to about things that make me cry.  So my struggle is in part, not knowing what to do with these feelings in me.

Which brings me to this afternoon.  This beautiful, warm, sunny, breezy day.  As I opened my heart to welcome in the warmth and sun, I felt a realization seep into me like a leak in the roof, one drop at a time.

I’m reaching a point of strength within myself to be able to handle the heartbreak I feel inside, that I can trace back to 2012 when something deep inside of me already knew that he had checked out of the relationship.  I wasn’t ready to let go of those beautiful visions I had been flooded with when we first came together.  I had gone all in.  How could I possibly admit defeat before the year had even closed out?  That I could feel that he had lost interest and was just going along with the motions.  When a man is really in love with a woman, he will move heaven and earth for her.  He wasn’t a man in love, and I couldn’t face it.

He is a loving man.  He is a caring man.  But a person can’t make themselves feel something they don’t, and there’s no shame in that.

If I had been more brave and honest within myself, I would have set him free the moment I realized it, but I couldn’t do it.  I have to set that right.

I want him to know love.  I want him to find a woman that makes him weak in the knees and who makes him forget that he ever knew heartbreak or suffering.  I want him to make mistakes and take risks.  I want him to find a woman that makes him smile and makes him happy to be alive.  I want him to find a woman who can actually get him angry and ruffle his feathers, because it’s good for his soul.  I want him to find a woman he can go on adventures with and who brings out the little boy in him.  And when he finds her, I hope he has the courage to marry her.  I hope that whoever she is, she is loved by his mom, dad, and brother because I know how important they are in his life.

heart says to let go

The Art Of Being Self

I stayed up waaaay too late last night.  I found a TV series on Netflix that has me completely enraptured.  I kept saying to myself, “Okay one more, but then I have to go to bed.”  I said that three times.  So, I finally listened to myself at 3:30am and went to bed.  My first alarm goes off at 5am.  (Yaaaay!)

It made for strange dreams and a little bit of a disorienting morning, but sometimes I need that to shake off the sludge that can collect and buildup on me.

Ever since Venus moved out of Aries and into Taurus (March 17), my feelings have turned to that of “art”.  Venus rules both Taurus and Libra.  They are both love feel good signs.  They rule throat and kidneys respectively.  If the pathway between the two are blocked or restricted in any way, it becomes more difficult for a person to “feel good”.  It becomes more difficult to have patience or to love or be open.  Think about how *loving* you feel when you’re in the middle of a horrible cold or flu, and you’ll get the idea.

Venus also rules the arts.  On March 31, Mars also moved into Taurus.  My feelings have moved even more solidly into the general topic of art.  The connection between feeling good, feeling love, and how much more naturally I wish to do something artistic the more I feel those things.

With my natal chart setup how it is, it has been suggested that I would be an excellent dancer (I adore dancing, but only when I’m alone).  I have many artistic inclinations.  However I also have a fear of doing anything personal or artistic or creative when there is an audience.  But with hard work, I can move so much into the art form that I’m doing, that I no longer care or worry about whether there is an audience because I find too much joy in doing the art itself to care what anyone else thinks about it.

With the current transits (where the planets currently are in the sky), I began to think of art in a different way.  I felt all of the creative and artistic energy that I give so little opportunity to be expressed in the world.  It’s like I hold it’s head under water trying to drown it.  Trying to make it go away so that I’m not forced to face my fears, my insecurities.

But this was exactly when the new understanding of art began to emerge from my thoughts.  Creativity.  Creativity is the act of birthing something new into the world.  Taking something that was in the ethers, in the unseen, and expressing it in some form in this world.  Making something out of seemingly nothing.

I often think of creativity and art as being an established form, such as visual arts, writing, dance . . . you know,  the arts.  I have spent a lot of time learning about and discerning the different energies I sense and then using that information to follow it further to see connections between things that I haven’t seen before.  So I used that learned ability to feel the energy simply known as ‘art’ inside of me and then opened up a space within to see what new information or connection it had to show or share with me.

You know how hard it can be to forgive someone who has hurt you or wronged you in some way?  How hard it can be to move past it or let go?  The work that goes into it?  The very act of doing that . . . that is creativity, that is art.  It is the same energy, exertion, and discipline used that a well received artist employs.

Have you ever seen the feet of a professional ballerina?  The fingers of an expert violinist?  It’s something personal inside that drives them to reach these levels and we see it physically in the beauty and refinement they bring into the world for both their own and other’s enjoyment.

Moving from a place of hurt or pain, into one of true forgiveness and letting go, is bringing something out of seemingly nothing.  Moving from a place of fear or terror in a situation, into one of peace and acceptance . . . that is an act of creation.  It is an art form.  The result of that hard work is seen in the character and personality of a person, and the beauty and refinement that person brings into the world that wasn’t there before.

Which brings me to this morning’s thoughts about art.

I was writing in my journal and reminding myself to settle down into my body and just be happy being me.  Not someone special, not someone who has to put on a show, not someone who has to know the answers or lecture . . . but just the art of being myself at all times with no pretenses.  It hit me only as I wrote it, just how true that statement is.  Learning to be myself has been in itself a lifelong art form.

I’ve seen my past as suffering and something I had to endure.  I’ve seen it as tragic and painful.  I’ve seen all of the immense and intense hard work I’ve put into myself in the past decade as healing.  But what I have not seen, is what it truly has been . . . a refining of self.

Adversity, struggle, pain, suffering, fear . . . these things teach us.  They make us stronger.  They remove what isn’t real or true about us.  When you survive something you didn’t think you could survive . . . when you heal from something that you thought would kill you . . . you become so much more than you were before.  When you start to learn how to bend in life, instead of break . . . that is when you truly start to live.

My physical body and incarnation at this time on Earth, is like an instrument that my soul and spirit are learning how to play and master.  Just like when I first learned how to play the flute, I would practice the 12 major scales and arpeggios over and over for hours.  The chromatic scale as many octaves as I could handle over and over.  Working out the weaknesses, the kinks.  Strengthening my embouchure.  Making my fingers more quick and nimble.  Increasing my capacity for breath and control.  Over years, coming together for longer sustained periods of what I can only describe as a state of grace . . . when the instrument, music, and my spirit merged into a single flow of being . . . and I was at peace with myself and the world.  I only knew warmth and love and expression of that love through my flute.

I am learning how to do that as a human.  How to master being who I really am as a soul while in human form . . . and the motivation being for the love and joy of the art itself when it all comes together into a state of grace and being.  The sum of my life . . . the sum of all I’ve been through and the sum of how I choose to use those experiences to become a more true expression of my soul while incarnated . . . that is my artistic expression.  It doesn’t matter where I’m at or what I’m doing . . . I can practice my art in all things and in all ways.  I don’t have to find the right occupation that will bring me happiness . . . I can learn how to be me and at peace with myself and life in whatever I do because that is the more true objective in my life.

I’m learning how to be in a state of being regardless of circumstances, not how to stop the circumstances from being.

Being a Cat

But Seriously, I’m Just Happy To Be Here :)

Waking up yesterday to the first full day of spring, I was really feeling the Sun’s move into Aries.  I was reminded of the core, base foundation of what Aries/Mars energy is.  The will . . . nay, the want to live.  Aries energy/vibration/frequency is what tells things, “It’s time to be born.”

It’s what motivates grass to grow and flower blossoms to bloom and tree leaves to bud.  It’s what tells babies to be born and the mind when an idea’s time has come.  “Now . . . now is the time.”  It’s not something you think about or contemplate.  That happened while in the womb, while in the dirt, while things were planning to come into existence in the physical vibration.  That is Pisces/Neptune.

No, Aries energy comes as the most basic instinct.  It is the “I want” feeling that comes from your root/base chakra.

Now, everyone has different expressions of this energy.  You can have Mars in any of the 12 zodiac signs in your chart, and you could have Aries in any of the 12 houses in the zodiac depending on the time you were born.  It’s like putting on a costume for Mars.  “Today, Mars is wearing the latest fall fashion of Sagittarius Couture.  In this very free spirited outfit, he tends to seek out dangerous adventures in the wild jungles of booga booga.”

But no matter how you express it, at it’s core, it is still our will to live.  It is the energy that brought you into this world, and it is the energy that pushes you to live life to the fullest.  Or not.

I was blessed (or not) with a buttload of this energy.  (Omg, Jenn, we KNOW!)  Well, for those of you new to the site, I have an Aries Rising/Ascendant, South Node Aries, Eris (rising), and Mars & Venus both in Aries.  I also have additional planets in the 1st house (the house of Self, Aries/Mars) that still more emphasizes my Aries/Mars energy even though they aren’t in the sign Aries.  Mercury, Chiron, & Sedna.

Do you remember back in school, how there were always those kids who seemed too stupid to know that they weren’t supposed to like school?  They were like teacher’s pets and all, “Ohh Ohh, pick me, pick me, I know the answer!” and doing all of their homework, etc.?

So that’s kind of what all of this Aries/Mars/1st house energy did to me in regards to life.  I’m all:

"I'm just happy to be here!"

“I’m just happy to be here!”

And the rest of society looks at me exactly how everyone looks at teacher’s pets, with disdain and disgust.  It is embarrassing, people.  I feel this joy bubble up in me (because as if my 1st house wasn’t enough, I also have Sun/Jupiter in Gemini. . . the energy of 100 white hot suns . . . if the suns were all great big kids – and also Neptune/Moon in Sagittarius . . . which is *the* optimist of the zodiac), and I am genuinely revved up and ready to get out there into life and make it happen!  Let’s DO this!  Woooo!

I am sincerely SO  HAPPY  JUST TO  BE  HERE! (On the inside)  But uh . . . I do not find a lot of people who share my enthusiasm for life, and there’s a point where my joy can just start to look like I’m being an insensitive asshole.  I want to fit in you guys.  I do NOT want to be *that* guy.  So if someone is all “God, life just fucking sucks.”  I’m joyously responding, “God, seriously!  Why does life have to suck so much?”  {Big grin . . . oh wait, I’m doing that wrong . . . furrow forehead}

"Am I doing it right?  Do I look more angry about life?"

“Am I doing it right? Do I look more angry about life?”

Okay, now I’m just shamefully (I *want* to say shamelessly) posting old pics of myself from a time before life took me down another couple hundred notches, so that I can feel better about myself.  These are about ten years old, (50 in single mom years).  Actually this is kind of fun.  I feel like I’m sharing an old friend of mine with you, because I am definitely not that girl anymore.  Okay one more with more of my Aries direct stare:

Then a few years later after shit really started to hit the fan for me (oh hi Saturn return) and weight gain, hair loss . . .

Jenn 2008

. . . oh, but wait, I’m still smiling.  (What the hell, Jenn?)  Okay . . . hold on I’m going to find one where I’m not smiling like a loon . . . ok I only have one I can immediately find and in this pic my family was camping and it was as hot as hellfire and I was so miserable I was ready to kick mother nature’s ass, and my mom thought that would be a great time to grab the camera.  I’m with my giant brother, Louis (I’m 5’9″ and he’s scrunching down to fit into the picture.  He’s like 10 feet tall or something like that.)

Me_Louie_2008

Anyways, I have unquenchable curiosity, and so I wanted to know why people don’t want to be here or to be alive.  So I went marching down that road head first like a spazzed out Alice.  Although instead of curiouser and curiouser, I was saying wtf? wtf?  What is wrong with you people?

No, that was a genuine question.  I wanted to know because something *had* to be wrong for them to be so unhappy to be here.  Okay, well, wait – I was *also* wondering what I was doing wrong because I was obviously missing some life memos.

Subject: Re: Don’t tell Jenn, but here’s intel that explains why you should *not* be happy about life.

Let’s face it, it is not cool to want to be alive, is it?  How ridiculous is that?  You are here–>  (red dot on life map)  The only way to un-be here is to “die”.  When that happens was pre-arranged before you came here, soooo you shouldn’t be focused on that and you certainly shouldn’t be trying to make it happen before then.  That totally misses the point of being here.

That’s like waiting in line for 4 hours to get onto the Space Mountain ride at Disneyland, and then cussing and bitching and moaning the entire time you’re on the ride.  Well, then why in the hell did you come?  Jesus people.  You know this is temporary right?  This is like a short ride.  It’s not REAL existence.  We are all pretending it is, but you guys are pretending a little too well and the “It’s a small world” ride has turned into a horror movie with creepy circus music playing in the background.

So I was looking at old astrology reports I had purchased on a site like back in 2009, because I like to see how far off the rails I’ve gone with how I see my chart.  Reading your own chart, over time, can be a bit like the telephone game where you say one sentence to the first person, and by the 15th person the message has gone from “I like toast” to “French whores smell not so great.”

It was a Life Purpose Report.  That sounds like a pretty useful thing to know.  So it had this to say:

With Saturn in Leo, your mission is to let your inner light shine, freely and joyfully expressing your multiple creative talents. When your creative expression comes directly from your heart, you inspire others to ignite their own creative spark. Ultimately, you are here to be a leader, brightening the planet with your unique vision and the pure joy of your being.

Having fun and creatively expressing yourself aren’t the worst cosmic assignments, but with Saturn in Leo, embracing the pleasure principle does not come easily. Saturn’s sign shows your fears, blocks and challenges based on childhood experiences or family background. With Saturn in Leo, your natural exuberance and creativity may have been squashed at an early age.

Saturn in Leo adults often feel like they didn’t get to be children, that they had to grow up and take on responsibility at a young age. You may feel like you never learned how to have fun. Your work is to become more like a child, fully engaged in the present moment and openly expressing your thoughts and feelings.

As Leo rules the heart, Saturn in Leo can indicate a wounded or broken heart early in life.

baby

Do you hear that people?  Squashed.  All of that enthusiasm you see in me?  That is a squashed version.  That’s right, I have been holding back.  (Oh dear god no.)

But seriously?  (Haha . . . Saturn is super serious.) My job is to find and express my inner child?  That.is.cool.  But you know what, I bet I signed up for that job thinking it would be easy, before I came down here to a bunch of whiners and dicks who feel like they’re too good to join in on life and actually, god forbid, be seen shamelessly enjoying themselves!  : )

I’m just messing, I love you guys.  But seriously . . . lighten up.  I’ve got a job to do here and you’re not making it very easy.

The Little Things In Our Everyday Life

You know how they say you don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone?  Well I didn’t know how great of a toilet I had at my old apartment until I moved into my new apartment.  If I don’t watch myself I’m going to develop a condition where I have an anxiety attack every time I have to take a shit.

cat-in-the-toilet-soon-meme

It’s also giving me a complex.  I’m starting to get paranoid that I poop freakishly more at one time than any normal human should because no matter how little or conservative I think it is, it is still almost guaranteed that it will clog up the toilet.  I’ve even tried to do in-between-poop-plop flushes to minimize the chances of the toilet getting stopped up.

Toilet-Meme

And it’s an absolute no-no to drop the toilet paper into the toilet until I have tried flushing it first to see if we have a clogger or not.  I have to put down the Candy Crush game while I unceremoniously hold onto some unpleasantness while I try to flush what’s left of my dignity down the toilet.

I think I have had a total of two instances since I moved in last summer where it didn’t clog.  That’s the same number of times out of five years that I had a clog at my old apartment.  So now I want to visit my old apartment just to let that toilet know that I took it for granted and that I’m sorry.  It deserves to know what a great toilet it is.

 toilet-complaint-meme

Then the toilet in the guest bathroom.  Don’t get me started on that one.  It never shuts.up.  Tinkle tinkle tinkle blurp {water stream water stream} clunk clonk tinkle tinkle.

I have laid in bed at night staring at the ceiling and yelled at it to shut the f*ck up, doesn’t it know that I’m trying to sleep!?

And then I apologize, because it didn’t deserve that.  I’ve just been under a lot of stress and I took it out on something that hadn’t really done anything.

At which point I watch as the cat tries to exit as casually (but quickly) as possible to put as much distance between himself and the crazy lady as possible.

i-m-outta-here

 But that might just be because the morning before, he had caught me pretending to be at an archeological dig while cleaning out his litter box.  Carefully clearing away the loose litter with the scoop so as to not damage the revered pee balls that had been placed so purposefully during ritual.  Or wondering what the story was behind two poop clumps being held together by a human hair.  Was it a religious artifact?  We may never know.

Which, he can judge all he wants but I’m not the one who runs back and forth as I’m doing sit-ups, and act like I’m purposely trying to avoid petting him.  Every.single.time. Up.  Run to the feets.  Down.  Run to the head.  Up.  Run to the feets.  Down.  Run to the head.  Banging his head on me, meowing and demanding to be petted.  Why do I have to be so difficult about it goddammit!?  The little knucklehead gets me laughing when he starts his shenanigans.

Outwardly I don’t lead what other’s would call a very exciting life.  It’s more or less routine.  Laundry day, litter-box day, garbage day, dishes day, grocery shopping day, work, more work, a side of work, vacuum day, pay bills day.  I don’t take much vacation.  I haven’t taken an actual full week of vacation since April 2013.  I *should* take more, I know that.  I will.

But I don’t want to live a life where I’m simply tolerating, dreading, and surviving 95% of it, and only happy or relaxed for the 5% that is set aside for vacations or night out with friends, and trying to make it to some “one-day” retirement.  That sounds like a terrible plan for life.  Just hurry, scurry, get through it get through it almost there and then relax.  Oh god, oh no, it’s time for another work week.

Too much of that and before you know it, a decade of life flies by that you have very little recollection of because you were never really there or present in the moment.  Your mind was always on something else or the next thing that needed to be done, but never really *there*.

A day will come when you regret it.  Maybe you won’t be able to put a name to the feeling, but it will be there.  Some vague notion or feeling that you missed out on something.

Waking From My Own Nightmare

This post I’m doing strictly for me.  It’s something I need.  This isn’t easy for me.

I am seeing a lifelong cycle in me that I’ve repeated countless times.  I don’t want to repeat it anymore.  It’s been slowly destroying me over time.

It’s to do with my relationships with men.  And until now . . . until these last 24 hours . . . I’ve always seen the situations from their point of view.  I’ve been completely understanding of their side, and I’ve never recognized my own feelings about it.  I feel an opportunity at the moment to finally let those feelings come through, and so I’m going to give it a go.

This is not about trying to make myself look good or to bash the men from my past.  My own part in all of this is not any healthier or better than the part the men played.  But I’ve always given voice to their side of the situation, and today I am in great need of giving my side a voice.

I very easily give of myself and ask for nothing in return.  I didn’t know I did it.  And I don’t mean that I did this in a “I’m so good and pure I didn’t even know I was being taken advantage of” kind of way, I mean I did it in a very unhealthy and disempowered way.  There is a *true* way of giving of self and asking for nothing in return vibration that is in alignment with the Divine and is truly a compassionate and unconditional Love.  But this . . . what I have been doing in my intimate relationships, is *not* of that vibration.

I give all of myself in relationships, to men who are unable to give anything of themselves.  Who are in fact, unaware of anyone outside of themselves.  I am not accustomed to receiving anything from my partner.  Whether material gifts, emotional support, etc.  But I am accustomed to being restricted and controlled . . . owned.  They can do whatever they want, but I must toe the line.  They are the nicest guys.  Their reasons for why they do what they do make complete and total sense to me.  They are convinced themselves that they are nice guys.

My ex-husband, who I divorced when my son was still a baby, hadn’t worked since I was 8 months along in pregnancy.  I had an emergency C-section which is considered major surgery.  I was scared to death to sneeze or cough because it felt like all my internal organs would come out.  I was exhausted.  But my husband had completely withdrawn from me and the baby.  He refused to help with the baby ever.  He refused to help with anything at all.

I was still in high school at the time.  I had to take the baby with me and put him in daycare while I was in school.  I then took a bus into downtown to work a part time job I had gotten.  I don’t remember who watched the baby while I did that, but I can assure you it was some convoluted process which was completely ridiculous in nature.  I would then get home late in the evening and cook dinner and make bottles and whatever else had been neglected during the day.  My husband just sat in the living room playing some imaginary game along the lines of dungeons and dragons.  This was all just in the first two months of my son’s life.

Towards the end of the marriage, there is one memory in particular that just blows my mind and I have never understood.  At the time we were staying with my dad in another state.  I had gotten another job there shortly after we arrived, at a Supercenter being built in town.  I often worked 80 hours a week.  I lost about 90 lbs. in the first couple of months of working because I didn’t eat very much and did a lot of physical labor.

I had to pay for a babysitter to watch the baby in the same house that my husband sat in all day.  At $5/hr I made a dime over minimum wage.  I still had to get up all night with the baby.  The one time I shoved my husband out of bed to make him get the baby because I was exhausted, I woke up to him growling in a menacing manner to the baby to shut the fuck up.  Which resulted in me punching something hard and metal next to my bed in order to get my anger out before I marched over to him and the baby, calming myself before gently taking the baby and laying him back in the crib and then grabbing a hold of my husband and dragging him into another room to tell him that if I ever heard him talking or treating the baby in that way again, I would fucking kill him.

I was starved, sleep deprived, and dealing with an adult child who saw himself as superior to me and would yell things at me like how I was the stupidest fucking person he had ever met.  Years later, I’d find out that him and his family would laugh and make fun of me behind my back because they thought I was so gullible and would believe anything.  Fine.  Whatever.

Eventually I asked for a divorce.  In which case he decided it would be a good idea to get a job now to impress me.  He did get a job.  I was not impressed.  I was exhausted and done.  But now to the scenario that I’ll never understand.  He had his first paycheck in hand.  I had mine.  We borrowed a car and went shopping.  I put my stuff on the conveyor belt to pay from my paycheck.  Every single solitary item was a necessity.  Baby food, diapers, etc.  Now, keep in mind that I was the only one who had worked since the baby had been born and every penny had been going to his care.

The cashier rang my stuff up . . . I didn’t have enough money.  I was literally handing over every dime of my paycheck for things I HAD to have to make it until the next paycheck and have enough supplies for the baby.  I needed every single diaper.  I looked to my husband, and I asked if he could please get one of the packages of diapers with his money.  And the man about had a temper tantrum right there in line.  This was my place of work, so I was completely embarrassed by his behavior but also FURIOUS at his attitude.  I gave him the death stare.  He said, “Fine!  That means I’ll have to put back a pair of my sunglasses!”

Which is when I looked at all of the stuff on the conveyor belt and saw that all of it, every single bit of, was stuff for him personally.  Clothes, TWO pairs of sunglasses, along with a bunch of other stupid shit he didn’t need.  Not a single thing for the baby.  Not even a small something for me, his wife and mother of his child who had been killing herself to keep the family afloat.  And the fact that I had to have a fight with him in the middle of a store in order to make him pay for one package of diapers.  Besides his sperm, that was the only other contribution he made to his son.

My dad and step mom were not happy with my decision to divorce.  My dad saw it as me being just like my mother and pulling a man’s child away from him.  So on top of all of it, when I came home at night, I had to see my own family being buddy, buddy with my husband and telling him he didn’t have to leave, he could stay as long as he wanted.  And I was the shunned evil ice queen.  Fine.  Whatever.  I’ll just go be busy with being responsible while everyone else eats grapes and chocolate on their high horses.

Another relationship that comes to mind, was a little later in my life when I was back in Washington state, and was working at my first office job.  I made better money, but still not enough to fully support me and my son.

I started dating an engineer.  To me, this was a huge step up because . . . well he had a job.  I had remembered how stressful it had been on me to not have my husband working and me being leaned on financially so I didn’t want to do that to another person.  He made good money, but I didn’t want him to think that’s why I was with him.

But here’s the part I’m just now realizing I should probably be angry about, but I never felt like I had any right to be mad about.

At this time I was making about $8/hr.  After killing myself making $5/hr . . . this was heaven.  But I also had more expenses, such as gas for a four hour daily commute.  Most of my clothes had come from charity and were well worn.  At the time I had a nasty smoking habit.  Ironically, it was the one thing I spent money on for myself.  I’m pretty sure subconsciously I was hoping they did kill me.  Also because I spent money on them, I had to cut from somewhere else in my expenditures, and the only other negotiable choice was my food.  For two years, I basically lived on Diet Dr. Pepper and cigarettes.  Except for the occasional times people took me out for meals.  I was so skinny, it hurt to sit because my bones would bruise my skin.

Just trying to set the scene, and no, I did not make great choices but I was a single divorced mom by 19 . . . so give me a break.

So things got serious with this guy and we eventually moved in together.  He used to take me to downtown Seattle to the (now) Macy’s to go clothes shopping.  For himself.  He would say, “Hey!  Do you want to go with me clothes shopping?”, and I was all “YEAH!” and then several hundred dollars later he’d be packing his new car with a whole new wardrobe for himself.

I was excited for him to be able to do this for himself, because I am the kind of person who is genuinely happy for other’s happiness.  But as the day wore on and I realized that there was ZERO intention of me getting any new clothes, I found myself many times trying not to burst into tears right there in the middle of the store.  I felt so pathetic, standing there in my clothes from charity, and having selfishly thought that he had maybe wanted to surprise me and do something for me.  I told myself at the time that I shouldn’t expect that of him because it is his money and he does get to choose what he does with it.  I blamed myself for making such a rash assumption and then causing myself undue disappointment.

There was the time he dragged me into the Versace store.  To again show off how much his jeans were that he had bought there.  This wasn’t just a one time thing, he did things of this nature the entire relationship.

Did I mention that he made 6 figures at the time?

We once got into a huge fight because I was having a hard time paying my half of the rent.  I had childcare costs, which is the equivalent of a mortgage payment in it’s own right.  So, yes, I was struggling to pay my HALF of the rent to a man I was in a serious relationship with.  At the time it seemed “fair” and I fucking beat myself up emotionally for being such a loser that I wasn’t able to keep up with the expenses off of my very modest paycheck.

We got in a fight over toilet paper.  He said I used way too much toilet paper.  I asked if he had ever lived with a woman before, because bitches use a lot of toilet paper.  I asked if he wanted me to stop wrapping up the tampons and just throw them straight into the garbage, blood and all.  He told me to stop being so wasteful and ridiculous.  I told him to fuck off.  I had my limits, and apparently toilet paper was one of them.

He traveled all over.  Without me.  He went to visit his family at home in Ireland.  He went to Vegas.  Up to Canada with his friends.  He was living quite the life while we were together.  But very little of it had anything to do with me.  After the initial “falling in love” phase, he never made me feel like I was beautiful to him.  More like I was just a hot piece of ass.  Big difference.  He acted like I was some gold-digging burden when in fact I bent over backwards trying to show that it wasn’t about the money for me.  I was all in for the relationship and him.  To him I was just this pretty object he pulled down from the shelf every once in awhile when he was bored or needed to get his rocks off.  There wasn’t much more of him present in the relationship.  He mostly tolerated me.

I went from relationship to relationship with similar outcomes.  The guy was always totally stuck in himself even as he convinced me that the things he did were for me.  And I believed it.  But in hindsight, I can see how all of it can be traced back to themselves.  They weren’t in a relationship with me, they were in a relationship with my body and then some made up picture they projected over the top of me.  So, basically a relationship with themselves.

But to be fair, I was doing the same.  Projecting a much prettier picture over them from myself.  I used to say and I still want to say that I loved them because of the soul I saw inside . . . and maybe that is true at some level.  But at the personal level, I wasn’t in love with who the men really were, I was in love with how I thought they were based on who I was inside.  My interpretations of their behavior was based on how I saw and experienced the world . . . not the truth of the situation.

Eventually I took an 8 year break from relationships altogether.  To understand who I was outside of a relationship.  Somewhere at the 6 year mark I had a couple of flings and saw that nope, I’m not ready yet to get back out dating.  Still attracting douches.

Which brings us up to a couple of years ago.  By this time I was making a good living and able to fully support me and my son on my own.  I thought this would change my relationship dynamics.  I’m good on my own now, both emotionally and financially.  I don’t have to be in a relationship if I don’t want to.  Therefore, I will be less likely to repeat my cursed cycle from all those years ago when I was a spring chicken.

But I was wrong.  I put in all I had to try and not repeat my relationship doom . . . and it still happened again.  Because the real issue isn’t to do with money.  It’s an attitude.  A habit.  So even though in my last relationship, we were both fine financially, psychologically it was the same dynamic.  Just incredibly more sophisticated in nature.

It started out with a bang, all in love, la-de-da.  But slowly over time, I was making more and more compromises on my end, while nothing changed on the other end.  So sure that this relationship was meant to be, I put away all thoughts that maybe it wasn’t meant to work and set to work to doing whatever was needed in order to make it succeed.

They say relationships are about compromise.  So if he was stuck and didn’t know how to get around an obstacle, I’d step in and help him work it out.  Until one day I realized that nothing had ever actually moved forward in the relationship, but that now all of my time was being focused on him and helping him become “unstuck”.  He didn’t have to work and had zero responsibilities except to feed, shower, and clothe himself . . . and he had all of my time and attention.  I work full time, I’m a mom, I have pet(s), I have a household to run, I’m over here in the USA doing everything by myself . . . and now I was also giving my undivided attention to helping him figure things out so that he could get out in life.

In my mind, I thought I was investing and building a strong foundation for the two of us for our future.  I was dedicated and determined to figuring out this relationship phenomenon.  I sacrificed and compromised.  When I said this was hard trying to make things works across a continent and an ocean, he said yes it was hard for him too.  And in the midst of my insanity I thought that he really did understand how hard this was all on me.  Because again,  I projected my understanding onto him.

He’s never had to work a day in his life.  He doesn’t have the first fucking clue what I was living through this last two years.  That’s just a perfect example of how we trip ourselves up.  I should have KNOWN he didn’t really understand or know what this was all doing to me.  I should have known that someone who doesn’t have any real responsibilities, is just plain incapable of understanding my life.  It’s just not possible.

Just like when people say that you can’t understand what it’s like to have kids until you have kids?  And the people without kids get all up in arms and defensive like they’ve been insulted.  It’s because you CANNOT understand what you don’t know or haven’t experienced yourself.  It’s only after you’ve had it or experienced it that you can THEN see that, omg . . . no, I really could not have known that until now.

That was basically our whole relationship in a nutshell.  The issue being that he convinced me that he really did know and understand this or that even though he never did it himself personally, and me having done or experienced those things personally, didn’t believe that I knew better than him.

As I said to him once, he was more confident in his own bullshit than I was in my truth.

Which basically sums up my life.  The root cause of how I become my own worst enemy, relationship after relationship.

So the solution isn’t about those men changing.  There are always going to be dicks around.  They have to even see that they’re being dicks before they can work on changing themselves.  And you have to really want to change yourself in order to put in the hard work required.  So no, that’s not the solution.

What I also don’t want to do is close my heart and become one of them.  That’s not a choice in my book.

So that leaves myself.  I need to lay down better boundaries and enforce them, even at risk of offending or making things awkward.  I can’t do this to myself again.  As I get older, I have a harder time recovering from this level of bullshit mistake.

I have to be more fair to myself.  I have to stand up and protect myself from others who *are* being douchebags.  Not because they don’t deserve love, kindness, and understanding . . . but because it’s a fucking waste of time when someone is all closed up like that.  They will just take and take and take until you’re drained and then toss you aside because you no longer serve a purpose for them.  Sacrificing yourself doesn’t make them “see the light”.  They’re so used to people giving them everything they want and bending over backwards that the people around them just become this blur of stuff that doesn’t really register on their radar or even really care about.

It’s not worth it.  It’s absolutely not worth it.  But maybe if people quit believing their bullshit, and quit fucking enabling them and doing everything for them . . . maybe they’ll be made uncomfortable enough that they finally do choose to fix their shit.  It has to affect them personally before they have motivation to change.  But that’s actually not my concern or my own motivation.  They can choose to change or not change, either way I’m not going to let them have a say in my own life anymore.

Now, some of those fuckers are tricky.  They start using shit like they’ll die if you don’t do this or that for them.  They’ll start acting like they’re just a weak sack of shit that needs you.  “What will I do without you, I can’t make it without you.”  Or say stuff like, “I can’t, but I just can’t.”  No. No.  That’s emotional blackmail.  That’s bullshit.  Don’t coerce or manipulate me into putting up with your bullshit, by hinting, suggesting, or even straight out telling me that the consequences of not putting up with it, could lead to your death or demise.

If you play that shit on me, then I guess you’re going to die if it’s true, because I do not fucking play that game.

I have NOT had an easy life and I have gone through some of the most insane stuff, but time and time again I have had to pull my shit together by sheer will power, and all on my own with little to no support in order to have the life that I have now which is insanely more happy than my childhood.  I refuse to be a victim.  I refuse to be a statistic.  So I’m not going to sit there and allow others to behave in that manner towards me anymore like I’m the one that doesn’t get it or understand their suffering.  I understand TOO well, but that doesn’t mean you get to wimp out in your own life or make other people responsible for your crap.  Pick up your own shit and fix it yourself.

funny-cat-box-yelling-fallen

The Moment Of Surrender

Years ago I had a very lucid dream where I had walked into a large room that looked very much like a classroom, but without the desks and chairs.  Some sort of special training appeared to be taking place.  The two people in charge approached me.

I don’t remember what they said exactly, but something along the lines of an audition taking place.  It was a special VIP invite only.  The best of the best had been gathered into this room.  The best of what?  Auditioning for what?  I have no idea.  But the looks I received from the instructors told me that they were thinking exactly what I felt.  “What are you doing here?”

I looked at the group of phenomenal people who were currently gathered in the middle of the room showing off their obvious talents.  Things were being fired at them.  Lasers, orbs, things I couldn’t identify.  Stuff whizzing throughout the center of the room.  Some were good at using weaponry they wielded, some had the ability to move fast, some used martial art-like moves to deflect and protect themselves.

The information that came to me about the situation, was that these people had been training hard since childhood.  This was something they had been dreaming of and working towards every moment of their life.

What on earth was I doing here?  I didn’t belong here.  The instructors asked me what my special ability was, and I just shook my head and told them I had no idea.  That there must have been some mistake.  I was starting to feel a little humiliated and embarrassed to be there.

The woman instructor did some sort of energetic scan of me to see if she could assess what stood out in me, but wasn’t able to hide her own disappointment when she found that no, nothing special stood out in me . . . confirming my own worst fears.  I got the impression that the only reason I was even there was because of who my dad was (in the dream).  My dad was apparently someone who held a great deal of respect and importance.  So I was feeling like *that* person.  The one who wasn’t there on their own merit.

I continued to watch and observe the others.  They were amazing.  I knew for sure I didn’t belong and with that acceptance in me I was able to let go of even trying to prove myself.  I would stay because I had been instructed to come here by some authority figure that I respected and trusted completely and wouldn’t even dream about disobeying, but I wasn’t going to try and pretend to be someone or something I wasn’t.

It felt good to accept the reality of my situation in which I found myself instead of panicking and trying to force something to happen.  I found myself smiling at them.  Appreciating the hard work and dedication they had put into getting themselves to this level.  I admired them.  I respected them for the hard path they had chosen.  Their dedication.  Their spirit.  I looked forward to discovering my special ability so that I could work hard like them and maybe one day truly deserve to be here.

I thought perhaps that was the true reason I had been sent there in the first place.  Maybe an exercise in humbleness.  The understanding that you have to work hard to get what you want.  And I was okay with that.  I was okay with that being my lesson to learn from all of this if that’s what truly held me back in my growth.

With that feeling I closed my eyes, feeling a wave of peace and calm wash over me.

In that peace, I also felt love and joy.  I was happy with this lesson.  I was happy in my acceptance of what was, instead of what I wished it to be.  Maybe today wasn’t my day to shine, but one day it would be.

I became centered in myself.  The world outside of me became quiet.  The joy and peace that I felt inside began to grow and well up from deep within me.  With it, I felt music.  I felt a song.  I felt the vibration of my soul song.  It demanded that I express it in dance.

Eyes still closed, my heart open and at peace, I began to move.  I swirled on tiptoe, my arms spiraling out around me.  My body and the living music humming through me, moved as one.  Up on one foot, pause, and then swirl both arms to the right . . . and then to the left.  Right arm out and around and then behind me.

Every movement surrendered completely to the love and joy I felt moving through me in the most divine song.  My current situation totally forgotten.

Until I opened my eyes and found myself square in the middle of the firefight, completely untouched and unharmed.

Then a flash moment of, “OH SHIT! WTF am I doing?!”, while also catching the completely shocked faces of the instructors that I’m sure mirrored my own.  The woman instructor quickly pulled herself together and then yelled at me to keep doing whatever I had just been doing . . . because whatever it was . . . it was my special ability.

So I quickly closed my eyes to the chaos and danger all around me, willing the absolute terror I had started to feel away, and called back again the music inside and danced.  But now I was also aware of what was going on around me.  I could see with my mind’s eye, how every movement I made naturally moved me out of harms way.  Every twirl, every pause, every extension and sway kept all of my body in the safe spaces for that moment in time.

If I were to doubt, resist, question my movement at all . . . I would be hit.  But when I fully trusted in the music in me and let go of worrying or being afraid of what was happening around me, then I was perfectly safe.

I became so overjoyed in learning this about myself, that I truly had no reason to be afraid, that the music in me began to grow even stronger and louder, to the point that I was able to fully open my eyes and give in completely to the joy and ecstasy that it was to be me.

The intensity in me increased until I no longer saw the things being shot at me as my enemy, but as my dance partner in life.  I no longer saw the difference between the dance and the fight, they were one and the same.

Graceful Dance II

Crouching Bunny Hidden Kitten

I’m eating a yum yum donut right now.  {she says talking with her mouth full and crumbs all down her front}  Am I worried about the calories?  Nope.  Am I worried about what it will do to my weight?  Nope.  All I’m focused on is how good it tastes and how much I’m enjoying it. {contented sigh}  I believe that it’s not what we eat, but what our inner attitude is towards it.

Anyways, while scanning through my wordpress reader to catch the headlines of the blogs I follow, there were a couple that totally lit me up and had me grinning from ear to ear.  Both were short and just plain made me feel good to see.

The first was from the blog The Observer’s Voice, and her post was The Rules For Being Amazing.  It’s basically just a pic with a short list of . . . well . . . rules for being amazing.

The second was from the blog The Daily Goddess, and the post was  Be Strong Enough To Stand Alone.  Just the title was all I needed to see for me to start feeling the happy spread through me.

{Takes a sip of her chai tea latte}

They were both following along the same lines of what I already had going through my head this morning.  As I’ve been gaining back my self confidence out in the world, I’ve had to remind myself what it means to me to have confidence and also to allow my perception to open and expand back outwards.  Both of those posts helped with that.

Also what happens when I’m moving from small limited thinking to large expansive thinking, is that I have to flip a switch from a fearful guarded perspective to a loving let go perspective.  That transition is incredibly awkward for inner me.

It starts with a confrontation between the two.

The fearful guarded perspective part of me is a bit like a female version of Gollum from The Lord of the Rings.  All bent over and huddled in a dark corner, talking quietly to herself about how the people of the world are all tricksy.  Holding her heart in her hand and telling it, her precious, that she will protect it and keep anyone from stealing it.  She growls and spits at anyone who tries to get too close to her, because it’s not her that they want . . . it’s just what she can give them that they are interested in.

So then walks in the loving let go perspective part of me.  This yahoo initially tries to walk into the dark cave with the light intensity of a supernova and freaks the bejeezers out of Gollum-me.  “The lights!  It burnses! It burnses!”  Ugly cry face and slobber flying everywhere.  So loving let go me, slowly backs out of the cave and tries to take it down a few notches in order to calm snot-face-me down.

This is when I have to start operating in super-slowed-down-mode during the negotiations.  I have to breathe deeply, slowly, consciously.  No sudden moves.  I let various ideas and thoughts flow through me while sifting through them to see which ones have a calming effect on me.  The ones that make it through the filter, I slowly hand them over to small scared me like I’m in the middle of a hostage situation.

“It’s cool, it’s cool . . . nobody needs to get hurt.  I have what you’re looking for right here.”

{hands up in surrender, holding an envelope containing the *calming thought*}

“I’ll just gently set this next to you and you can look at it whenever you feel safe enough to do so.”

Needless to say, it’s a delicate process.  I don’t want to invalidate the fear I feel . . . but I also don’t want to live in it anymore.  I have to be patient and listen to whatever it is that the hurt and scared me is needing from moment to moment.  Calming . . . soothing . . . inspiration . . . expanded thought . . . oops, too much . . . calming . . . soothing . . . breathe . . . let go . . . and relax.

Little by little, my inner Gollum starts to have doubts about how she’s been viewing the world.  She lets down her guard a little.  “You mean . . . it doesn’t have to always be this way?”  {slow nod yes from stellar me} “And . . . and maybe I *can* have fun and have friends to play with?”  {another slow nod yes from stellar me}

Every doubt she has about why she’s afraid . . . she’s able to become a little bit more aware of the warmth and light around her . . . and the more she starts to trust in life and in the world again.  Slowly, inch by inch, she starts to make her way to the mouth of the cave . . . feeling braver . . . stronger . . . more sure of herself.

She becomes more willing to let the fear go.  She gathers strength and determination to try again.  She attempts to run a comb through her rat nest hair.  But gives up when the comb gets stuck and just leaves it there.  She finds that it is becoming easier to breathe.  Tears start to pool in her eyes as the feeling of hope begins to return to her.  The idea of it . . . the idea that she doesn’t have to be cold and alone in the dark . . . that there is another way.

And then the things that loving let go me has been talking about, begins to appear to the previously scared and in the dark me.  She starts to see for herself that it’s all true . . . everything the annoying bright ass light has been saying is true.  The warmth . . . the love . . . the acceptance . . . it’s all here.  She looks around at all of the people she thought were trying to steal from her . . . and she sees that they’re really harmless after all.  They aren’t trying to hurt her . . . they just have a scared Gollum inside of them too.

That’s when my perspective begins to shift . . . from one where the world is cold, dark, and cruel . . . to one that is filled with other warm, loving . . . but sometimes also scared, also misunderstood . . . people.  That the world isn’t really filled with enemies lurking around every corner . . . but others that are going through very similar things as me.

I shift from feeling like I must hide in order to protect myself,  to seeing that there’s really nothing to be scared of.  That I *can* be myself . . . it’s okay.  It’s not others that are stopping me from being myself,  it’s just my own inner demons screaming their fear in my ear.  So what if others look at me weird?  So what if others don’t approve?  If I’m truly happy inside because I’m being me, then what does it really matter in the end what others are thinking?

And the peace! . . . oh how to describe the peace I start to experience as the scared me crawls closer to the stellar me.  It makes all of the things I used to fear seem so insignificant . . . so petty.  It’s like who cares!  Fine!  Whatever!  Just . . . let me go and let me feel this peace and surrender . . . this letting go of resisting and fighting against life.

This freedom of not having to know . . . of not having to have all the answers and having it all figured out.  Of not having to control every tiny little aspect of my life in order to make things turn out how they should be . . . because there *is* something bigger than me.  I’m not the end all be all . . . there is something that I can’t see, but it’s there nonetheless . . . and it’s taking care of me.  So I can let go . . . I can let go of trying to control life . . . I can let go of being responsible for everyone else.  Because it’s okay . . . everyone will be okay . . . even if I don’t understand why or how . . . I know it’s going to be okay.

My faith . . . my trust in life and in an existence much bigger than me is restored.

Then I feel myself smile . . . I feel a grounded joy return to me.  I feel a happy.  I feel giggles and tears of love for life and the experiences and adventures always waiting for me just around the corner.

I’m no longer dreading what is next . . . I’m now excited about what is next.  I’m not being forced to survive through life . . . I’m getting the honor of experiencing things that can only be experienced while incarnated in a physical body.  Physical sensations!  Things like the smell of poop!  Do you think you smell things like poop and decay while you are in soul form?  No!!  You ONLY get to experience that while you are living in a body.  So why do we shrink from it?

We have an eternity to live as souls without form . . . but only for brief blips during that eternity do we get to experience things like we do when in physical form.  So why do we spend our whole life trying to get AWAY from our body and life?  Doing so prevents you from truly living.  Doing so means living a dead life . . . a zombie life . . . an anxiety ridden fearful life.  But get IN your body and open up to the experiences that come your way regardless of whether they are labeled “good” or “bad” . . . and then you’ll start to understand what this life thing is really all about.

Bunny Farts

One Lovely Blog Award Nomination – Show Me Who You Really Are

I don’t know wth is wrong with the reblogging feature or if it’s me, but either way I’m going to do this in a convoluted *special* way. 🙂

Show Me Who You Really Are has had the honor of receiving a One Lovely Blog Award Nomination from An Upturned Soul.  To see the original post on her blog with the nomination (pssst . . . she says all kinds of cool things about me), you can go here ONE LOVELY BLOG AWARD NOMINATION – SHOW ME WHO YOU REALLY ARE – I KNOW YOU’RE IN THERE HIDING.  IT’S TIME TO COME OUT AND PLAY.

one-lovely-blog-award2

WWWWWWWWOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

Okay . . . so there’s actually more that I need to do for this award, but I’ll do that at my own pace and as I calm the hell down and can think in a more linear fashion.  For the rest of this post, I’m going to put what I originally typed in the “reblog” (that obviously failed . . . it’s now floating lost in hyperspace somewhere).

And for the eleven-fiftieth time . . . many thanks to An Upturned Soul.

Holy hell I cannot even begin to tell you what this means to me.  But I’m going to try anyways.  First, I want to thank An Upturned Soul (btw, that’s not her real name ; ) for nominating me for the One Lovely Blog Award.  Here’s her site An Upturned Soul <— do yourself a favor and go there.  One of two big reasons this means so much to me, is because I respect the hell out of this woman.  If she just passed these things out like candy, it might not have meant as much to me.  And if I don’t respect someone, their recognition doesn’t mean a whole lot to me.

While I may (or not) seem to be over-reacting to something that seems relatively simple . . . I’m not.  Not for me anyways.  In fact, for me, I’m under-responding.

See this is actually a momentous moment for me in my life.   This was posted early yesterday morning (my time in Seattle, USA) . . . and I’ve just now got my head back on straight enough so that I’m capable of reblogging this.

I’ve been recognized before in my life.  For business things.  For playing flute well technically.  As in, not because of my own creativity, but because I was good at playing well like a robot.  (Not quite that severe . . . but point being, it wasn’t because I was some musical creative genius.)

My blog.  My writing.  That’s something that’s coming straight from my heart.  That is something of myself that I am putting out there for others to do what they wish with it.  In astrology, that’s 5th house, Leo, Sun.  And see . . . I have Saturn, restrictor/task master (stick in the mud) in Leo in the 5th.  It’s the house and sign of kids, creativity, heart.  When you do something from your heart, it is like your kid.  It’s an offering from your heart.  And for that . . . doing something from my heart and receiving recognition at this level . . . that I haven’t had happen before.

I don’t do it for recognition.  I do it because I need it . . . because something in me has to.  But people’s responses still affect me strongly.  That’s my heart hanging out there flapping out in the breeze for crying out loud!  How would people’s responses NOT affect me?  :D

So for me personally, having Saturn in that place . . . and having put a lot of work into overcoming my fears in order to share my heart despite the terror it invokes in me . . . and then to get recognition like this . . . THAT is why this is such a huge fucking deal to me.  It’s hitting and soothing all kinds of fears, hurts, and damage done over the years of my life.  So yeah, I’m having quite a huge response over this.  I did something that scared the living shit out of me, with no expectations of ever having any outside validation . . . so when it happened, it absolutely knocked my socks off.  You should see the retarded stuff I was responding with in the comments shortly after she let me know about the nomination. (Edit to add: Reply where Jenn loses her ever loving mind in excitement)  I wasn’t making ANY sense.  :D

An Upturned Soul . . . I don’t know if you’ll ever know or understand what you’ve done for me just in the short time we’ve been in touch.  Just by openly sharing things with me, you have showed and reminded me about more of myself in this short time . . . than I’ve been shown for the sum of my life.  I can’t even keep up with sharing back to you what the things you’ve said have been showing me because it’s so much.  Like when you said I wasn’t looking for followers, I was looking for playmates.  Oh!  Yes!  That’s what I was trying to say . . . I didn’t realize that’s what I had been trying to say until I read that from you.

Or in a recent comment you said that I didn’t forget what it’s like to be a kid . . . girrrrl . . . you’ll be hearing more about that in a post later.  I totally, fucking, forget about that part of me.  I forgot the kid part of me.  I am a giant.ass.kid.  And I’m trying to behave how I see other adults behave . . . and that’s not me.  That’s never going to be me.  No wonder I feel so goddamned closed tight in a box . . . I’m trying to play grown up the way other people play grown up and it doesn’t work for me.  But see?  I couldn’t see these things about me.  It’s these simple, seemingly obvious things about me that I haven’t had others say to me . . . and so I couldn’t see them.  One day I’ll be able to describe what I mean by that better.  Point is . . . you just being you, and not trying to help me, and just being real . . . is exactly what I was needing.  All it took was a couple of simple nudges for me to go OHHHHHHHH!  Now I remember who I fucking am.

It’s a mix of timing from the universe, and it just taking this long to run into someone else who has also put in enough hard work to uncover enough of themselves that they could see outside of their hurt too.  You may not know how rare you are, but it took me over 36 years to run into one of you . . . so, it’s pretty uncommon.  Even though I’m sure a lot of it had to do with the circles I was hanging out in.  So meeting you also marks a point in my life where I can see that I’m moving out of my old patterns and cycles and into a new life.

Thanks.  For all of that, and more.  Really, I’m just saying thanks for being you.  That’s made all the difference for me.