Aries For Life

I’ve had to use great control in the last couple of days to not come here and completely delete my whole site.  Or go start a new site with a completely anonymous name and not tell a single soul about it, just for the sheer pleasure of getting to write “publicly” whatever I wanted.  I still might do that.

But then I read a couple of my old blog posts and started to feel inspiration flitter back into me.  {Why thank you Jenn . . . you’re most welcome Jenn}

I looked back in my comments history to when other bloggers linked to my posts from their own sites and the things they said about my site and I thought . . . (well, one was a bastard and threw me under the bus to make themselves look good to a bunch in a discussion board, so eff them) but I thought, maybe . . . maybe I’m not done here.

I’ve worked so hard over the years to even be capable of writing on a blog without hyperventilating and fainting, and yes I’m frustrated that I am still too scared to really *really* express myself . . . but I’m not ready to throw in the towel just yet.

And really (and this is truly in Jenn Fashion) before I go and do something dramatic like delete my whole site and all of the writing I’ve done here over the years, how about first I just go for it and go down in a flame of glory?  What do I have to lose at this point?  If I made a complete disaster of it, then <boom> delete the site.

Do you know that that is how I convinced myself to not try taking my life when I was a teenager?  I was absolutely at wits end.  It wasn’t typical spoiled teenager teen angst.  There was some truly, truly shitty things going on in my life at the time, which I can now say with confidence and the perspective of someone who has been off gallivanting in adulthood for a good many years.  I was in very dire circumstances and had been for awhile and I had absolutely nobody to turn to or who I could trust.  I had no out, and I couldn’t stand the feeling in my body anymore.

I started to let go of trying to make it in this life.  I let myself give up.  I let go of the feeling of guilt, of feeling like a disappointment, of being a burden.  And I started to settle into a feeling of deep peace as I contemplated the ways in which to *delete* my existence.  It felt like such a relief, that feeling of relaxation in my body, that I was momentarily able to feel through and around my pain.

I remember vividly the very moment it happened.  I was laying there in the dark in my bed and staring out my window, and I thought . . . “but wait . . . Jenn . . . you’re still a virgin.  You don’t want to die before you get to try sex, I mean c’mon!  You have to at least give that a try.  THEN, if everything still feels this shitty, then you can kill yourself.”

That became my new game in life.  Anytime I am in a situation that I have no control over and I start feeling like I want to die, I think of something that I haven’t tried yet that I would really like to give a go before I left this planet, and I make it my mission to do that thing before I check out.  Because why not?  What do I have to lose?  If I were going to end it anyways, what does it matter if I took a risk or chance in doing something that I’m so scared of?

This is one of my secrets to how I find my will to live over and over again.  I reach a point of being ready to let it all go . . . all of it . . . I’m willing to surrender absolutely everything in my life . . . but I pause long enough to feel out what I would miss most once I was on the other side or what I would be pissed about when I was back in soul form and no longer in a physical body and being able to run and laugh and play while on this Earth plane . . . and always . . . always something comes surging through and then with kiddy-like glee I go racing off to my next mission and challenge to take this life by the horns and ride it all the way through to the end.

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The UnMasking Continues

Yesterday was a really interesting and long day for me.  I got revved up into my Aries fire and it felt like I was getting oxygen into my lungs finally after a long time, but also like getting water to drink after being dehydrated for so long.

While doing the video I felt really solid, strong, and good inside.  Then I watched the video and I was like, “What in the hell is all this?”  What I felt and what it looked like were two completely different things in my mind.

First of all, I was able to hear strain in my voice.  It’s *almost* like a whine.  It’s not my favorite sound.  Because I know what I was feeling on the inside, I understand how it’s still the remnants and traces of the tightening and restriction in my body from trying to stop this kind of expression from coming out of me.

The important part is that it’s starting to come out and find expression, kind of like relieving a pressure valve in me, but being pushed through a very resistant and stubbornly tight tube.  Kind of like when the toothpaste gets so crusted and dried up at the opening of the tube and you have to push the rest of the tube so hard to force it through, that when it breaks through, toothpaste is all over the wall, mirror, . . . no?  Just me?  Anyways 🙂

And like I look and sounded like I was genuinely shaken up inside, like I was working hard to keep myself together . . . and again that’s like the opposite of what I was feeling inside.  I was feeling great!  Like AH!  YEAH!

Also, while talking, I felt like I was staying much more grounded and clear than usual, but hell if I didn’t wander.  I stopped in mid-rant because I saw a white cat with big orange spots walking around the garden across the street and it was so out of place that I completely got distracted with what I was saying.  If that’s not a fine display of Gemini, I don’t know what is.

I would hear myself go into one point and then veer off into another point completely.  While I’m very, very happy to have gotten out the points that I did – I still had a hard time following all of what I was trying to say – and that’s with me knowing what I was trying to say.

I was watching it going, “wait . . . that didn’t make the impact or the point that I was getting at, that ended up sounding like such a non-issue.”  and “wait, you were about to make a good point and you just totally veered off into a non-related thing, wtf Jenn?”

I totally get the people on American Idol now who can’t sing worth shit, but are genuinely surprised when they are told so.  There’s how something goes in your head, and then there’s what actually comes out.  If you’ve never done candid videos of yourself and then watched them back with an open mind, I cannot recommend it enough.  Holy cow.

But just like when watching my other videos, there were also parts that I tend to hide or squelch in me that I really wish I wouldn’t because they are my favorite parts when I do show them.

Also, I talk too fast and run over thoughts too quickly.  I’m like, “this, that, and whatever”.  I’m like, uh, Jenn . . . why don’t you put a little more thought into those examples and list more specific things instead of saying, “x, y, z” for everything.  It’s like I’m trying to make it generic enough to fit whatever other people’s own personal situations are, but I make it so general that the point I’m trying to make gets lost in it.

It is SO Neptune-ie.  Vague, general.  When that’s not what I’m trying to do at all.  I’m trying too hard to make it fit too many situations and scenarios so that people can relate and I’m totally failing in that purpose.  Right?  Because instead of like, “oh I totally relate” it becomes more like, “well . . . I think I can relate . . I mean, I’m not totally sure if she’s referring to the same thing I’m thinking of, but it does remind me of that situation.”

I’m wanting too much to relate and to fit in, while at the same time fighting to not lose my own self and integrity.  I see how I’m still thinking too much about the crowd of fictitious people I think are watching my videos, which pulls me out of myself.

I can’t be centered in myself, being myself, if too much of my focus is hanging outside of my body and yelling back at me how to adjust what or how I say things so that this audience that is really just made up of ghosts from my past, don’t get offended or respond to me in a way that feels hurtful.

I’m trying to be too many things at once instead of just standing tall in myself.

I need to stop being afraid of using specific situations or examples from my life and trying to protect the identity of others in my life.

Here’s the thing.  I want to talk about what I’ve learned and what I’ve noticed in life, and it kind of involves other people in my life.  I’m aware that there’s how I saw and experienced a situation, and then there is how they saw and experienced a situation.  But when I try to tell how I saw and experienced the situation, it sometimes doesn’t paint the other person in a beautiful light.

There is a tendency in our society to focus on *booing* the supposed “bad guy” in a story, instead of paying attention to the point of the story.  When I’m in balance, I do not see others in my life as the “bad guy”, but when I try to tell my stories of what I’ve learned in life, all of the focus becomes on, “oh you poor dear” or “that’s horrible” or “they shouldn’t have done that to you.” which completely misses the point of the story, and it completely leaves me out of it.

It becomes about the other people in my life not being “good” and that is upsetting to me.  I don’t feel it’s fair.  That person has a life and a story to tell as well, and it’s most likely just as sad and upsetting, if not more so than my story.  I’m sure when someone else is telling a story about their life that involves me, I may look like the bad guy in that story.  Do you see how pointless all of it is?

I don’t want what other people did or didn’t do to be the focus of my stories.  They aren’t their stories.  They are mine and they are about how I overcame and triumphed over challenges and obstacles.  Don’t make it about the other person, you know?

And plus, like I love and care about these people, and I know they aren’t perfect – but it’s like I’m not allowed to share my life and my stories because other people’s judgments come in and fluff it all up for me.  I then find myself telling my stories where I’m some sort of victim, and that’s NOT even how I personally experienced the situation.

I again let how society has been conditioned to see situations, influence and overwrite me.

I have come to believe that I had a bad childhood, not because that’s how I experienced it, but because of the reactions and responses I have received from people over the years when I’m just talking about my life.  It paints my life in a darker light.  It then makes it more difficult for me to cope with it.

It ends up causing me more hurt than was necessary.  It forces me to see the world with less love in it.  I start to feel bad and guilty for loving my parents and my exes.  I get painted as being naïve and stupid for not knowing better.  I become this frail and damaged person.  “Poor thing, she doesn’t even know how damaged she is.”

Do you know why kids are so resilient?  Because they aren’t focused on the fact that they’re being wronged.  They see through the eyes of love.  If we didn’t make so many things SO HEINOUS and so disgusting and evil and go on and on and on about it and how we have to punish the evildoers doing this to our children and using children as a platform to punish other human beings . . . then children wouldn’t be so fucking traumatized about the things they go through.

They are naturally understanding and naturally forgiving.  They don’t want to be the source or used as the reason to prosecute and harm other humans, no matter what their crime is.

So in my stories about my life, you will notice an absence of me saying anything specifically about who did what to me, exactly for this reason.  To protect them from other’s unfair judgments and in making my story more about them than about me.  And the times that I did try to mention something specifically, I regretted it with every fiber of my body.  I hated that I did it and I hated the feelings it brought up afterwards.

Like I said . . . it influences me.  I start thinking less of my loved ones than I did before, and that makes me feel less about myself because that’s not how I think and that’s not how I am.  I don’t see the world like that.

Omg . . . I didn’t even realize that that is why I am so afraid to speak up or express myself.  (Having a toothpaste on wall moment.)

I love my dad.  He’s not perfect.  He’s a man from the Appalachian Mountains, who are regarded as the smallest minority group in the United States (even though they are white).  They are poor and they are humble.  It’s the general area where Dolly Parton is from, so if you’ve seen her story about her earlier life, you’ll have a good idea of the kind of life he comes from.  They work hard, they have little.

He has a temper.  Things got broken in the house growing up.  There was a lot of yelling.  There was a lot of things that went on that weren’t necessarily cool, and no a lot of it should not have happened to me.  But I love my dad.  I see the soul inside.  He’s a good man, who got hurt at a young age and got covered up in other people’s darkness.

I love my mom.  She’s not perfect.  She comes from a more proper family.  Good manners, proper grammar, no elbows on the table kind of family.  She didn’t necessarily know the struggles my dad knew when growing up, so it’s harder for her to understand where he was coming from.  His more raw and rugged ways were harder for her to handle because she didn’t have so much of a resilience to how hard life can truly be, when they had first met.

She was what a person would call naïve or not very street smart, she didn’t know how to handle the darker side of life . . . and so life kept coming  at her with darker and darker things the more she tried to run away from it, the more she tried to deny that she had those same tendencies within herself.  She held tightly to my light to keep the darkness away from her, choking the life out of me in the process.  Not intentionally.  Not knowingly.  Not maliciously.  But because she was so afraid, she couldn’t see through the darkness to the truth.

Told in stories from my perspective, they will appear on the surface to be the bad guys.  They are not the bad guys.  They are people, human beings . . . not monsters.

The “bad” people in our lives, are just human beings with painful stories of their own.  It doesn’t excuse their behavior, it doesn’t mean they don’t have to suffer the consequences . . . but it does not mean that they need to be demonized.  It does not mean that they don’t deserve to be seen through the eyes of love and with compassion.  They are already living in a hell of their own within their own skin, the last thing they need is anyone else’s judgment on them.

Discernment . . . discernment is another thing entirely.  It’s good to be aware of another person’s tendencies.  Be aware of whether their actions are hurtful to you or not, and if they are, to take the necessary steps to remove yourself from harm’s way.  Be aware of your own tendencies.  What is leading you to people who behave as they do?

I use discernment to decide whether it’s best that I cut someone out of my life or not.  It has NOTHING to do with whether I love or care about them.  If someone is blind to their subconscious actions, then they are going to continue hurting me without meaning to.  Therefore, in order to not let something keep going until I start to hate the person for hurting me over and over, I have to find the strength to push them out of my life.  They may think it’s because I don’t care or don’t love them, but that is not true.  I cry all of the time for the loss of the people I’ve had to push out of my life for these reasons.

They are so lost in fear and blind to themselves and what they do and how it impacts and affects others, that I am forced to make the painful decision to not have them in my life.  It hurts me.

But . . . in order to not turn into them as I grow older, I also have to learn to forgive this hurt and let it go too.  Which means, I can’t be seeing them as the bad guys.  When you’ve healed from your pain, the world looks vastly different.  It’s not filled with potential people who are going to hurt you, it’s filled with human beings who aren’t perfect but who are trying to find their way the best they can.  It’s filled with people desperate to find love and wanting to feel better, and are going about it in the many creative ways that humans can.  Some think they’ll get better with money, with sex, with a high position, with being a healer, being a parent . . . all the many ways we seek to find our way back to our innocence and to home.  Always trying to find our way back home.

I’m ever hopeful that I’ll find others who are willing to put in the hard work to push through the darkness that covers them so that they can bring themselves back into awareness about who they really are, so that I don’t have to continue pushing people out of my life . . . so that I don’t have to be alone.

*This* is what my story is really about.  I’m wanting to find fellow playmates . . . friends . . . who have found themselves and who don’t unintentionally hurt me and who I can be myself around because my way of being doesn’t offend them because they are seeing me from a place of love instead of from a place of fear.

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Starting To Pierce Through My Fears And Expressing My Inner Fire

I felt more of myself come through during this video than I’ve felt in a very long time.  My god did it feel good to get out.  There was a full hearted, present, and enthusiastic dance that ensued through my house for a little while afterwards (with music of course), moving that Aries energy through me.

Reaching this part of me felt like fresh oxygen getting into my body.  It was magnificent.  When I feel like this, when I feel like me, I don’t give a flying french fry what anyone thinks about it because it’s from my heart.  I know and feel it so deeply within me that it doesn’t matter if I was criticized and told I was wrong by every individual on the planet.  That’s when I know I’m being true to self.

This is SO much closer to the real me.  This is what I’ve been trying to get at and un-repress.  It’s just now surfacing and so there will be a few more bumpy trial and errors as I adjust, just like it took a little bit at the beginning of this video for me to really get there).  This was me starting to pierce through my Pluto & Saturn in my chart, through my fears/terrors – as well as my Chiron (deepest wound).

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

Life In The Middle Of Madness

It is precious, it is a blessing to be capable of loving another human being outside of yourself.  To be able to experience that in life.  It means that you’ve opened up to love within yourself, despite the world.  To love, to be loved at this point in time is a fight that is well won.

We are all currently carrying the burden of our ancestors’ collective choices, both good and bad.  It is becoming increasingly rare for an adult to stay in a place of love for any significant length of time.  Why we continue to choose to see a person who has lost the ability to love as something evil or despicable is beyond me, when it’s quite simply become our reality.  Seeing it with such closed and hateful eyes only serves to make it harder for us to see where we are standing so that we can walk to higher ground.  And truthfully, it’s really hard to feel anything without also feeling the bombardment of madness exploding globally.

But it does feel shameful, doesn’t it?  I mean, who wants to admit that they are numb or frozen to feeling something that is such a necessity to existence and what we associate with what it means to be a good person?  Quite frankly, it’s embarrassing.  To say, “I don’t or can’t feel love.” feels like a death sentence, doesn’t it?  People start imagining serial killers and rapists.  God, who wants to be thrown in with that lot?  Amiright?

So good people who start to fall more and more out of love and more and more into fear, convince themselves that they do still feel love, even if it’s just memories of having felt it because there’s just no way they’re going to admit otherwise.  They’re feeling like holy hell inside, but can convince even themselves that they’re right as rain.  Denial is a slippery slope my friends, and fear is it’s lover.

When you are running from something inside of you and you’re scared to the point that it’s become a full time occupation, you aren’t in a place of love, plain and simple.  When fear has taken you over, when it has become your belief system and your reality, it rules you.  It lies to you.  It makes you think and believe things that are absolutely not true.

It is painful to see a loved one go through that fight, believing that they aren’t (or shouldn’t be) loved and the endless ways in which that can be expressed.  It can be so painful, that if you don’t watch yourself, you will start to lose your own belief in love.

It will slowly bleed out of you in your effort to convince your loved one that they are loved (no, but wait, I can prove it to you) and the endless ways in which that can be expressed.

I’ve been through this fight many, many times.  After every setback, rallying myself back together and determined to not lose the fight.  I love you.  I still love you.  I will always love you.  I will not let fear win.

But for a time . . . it did.

I have known no worse suffering in my existence, than in the times in which I forgot that love is real.

I’ve returned from there.  I do know and feel love again.  I fought with every cell in my body and beyond to come back to that place of love, to be once again capable of giving and receiving it.  I’m in the process of learning how to protect that precious feeling inside of me in relation to others.  How to not let it get drained away like it did before by trying to give it endlessly to those who have decided for themselves that they don’t deserve it, but at the same time not feeling like that means that I’m condemned to live a loveless existence myself.

I will say it again, it is a blessing . . . a gift to be able to give and receive love despite the world today.  I had no idea how rare it was until I lost it.  So now that I have it back, you can bet that I’m going to fight like a coked-up Lioness for the right to keep that part of me.

If a loved one has decided to believe more in their falseness than in their truth, that is their right.  Maybe to test themselves, like one of life’s many rites of passages.  Sometimes you need to be dropped into hot water to know what you’re really made of, so that you don’t live a limited and less than full expression of self in life.  If we don’t get pushed off of the ledge every so often, how else will we remember that we have wings?  (If you think you don’t have wings, then you are probably past due for a ledge shove.)

For me, when a loved one of mine has gone into that place, I’ve become committed to let them go on their own and away from me because it is something that only they can choose to return from just as I had to choose for myself.  I would much rather use that time to grow in my strength and in my love, than to fall into the hole with them and we both become stuck.  In doing this, choosing to stay in myself and in love, I can be standing strong still should they choose to return to the land of the living and need a desperate reminder of what love looks and feels like.

I’m coming to see it as my job and responsibility to not let the expression of love die or be forgotten in my life.  I take my job very seriously.  It’s the city of tough love and I’m the baddest bitch in town.  (<– My gansta rapper persona)

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My House My Rules

Hey you know what?  I remembered something very important to me today.  So like if I say something that is true for me in a state of centeredness or true deep joy, and someone shows up in my sphere of existence and is in a very unhealthy self absorbed way and mistakes what I was actually saying . . . like there’s not a fluffing thing I can do about it.  There’s what I was actually experiencing and feeling, and then there’s the unhealthy person’s projection on me.  No matter how self conscious or responsible I try to be in what I say, people are going to take the most innocent things and warp and twist that shit into something it’s not and try to hand it to me as “truth”.

There are so many complexities that are not being taken into consideration when they do that.  There is how something feels and is experienced when your heart is opened, and then there’s the darker and heavier version of someone who is shut down or collapsed into themselves.  You can’t take someone’s open hearted flow of words and apply closed heart logic to it and call it truth or fair.  If you’re closed, whether you wish to admit it or not, you are not going to understand what I’m really meaning or saying so you can just shut the hell up and get off my site.  I have this many –> 0 fucks to give you.

I’ve done said that if you think your shit don’t stink then you can GTFO and I mean it.  I’ve had it with you narcisstic self absorbed, NO INTEREST in actually getting your life and shit together, endless excuse it’s never my fault, irresponsible for your own self and choices, I’m just interested on looking like I know what I’m talking about, false humility mother fuckers.  Fuck you.

You make it hard for people to tell the difference between genuine people and people who are just fronting.  You confuse the youth from understanding the difference between going through the motions and actually feeling and living it.  You spread falseness like a disease.  You waste people’s time, energy, and resources with your bullshit.  Good people.  People who are genuine and don’t deserve that kind of treatment.  Shame on you!

Wanting everything to be “fair”.  Wanting your bullshit to be treated as fair and equal as someone else’s genuineness?  How about no.  When you’re standing in genuineness, bullshit is pretty damn obvious . . . but when you’re standing in bullshit, you think everyone is standing in bullshit and not anymore “right” than you and therefore you’re equal.  Well, it’s not!  No matter how much you want to be in the right and don’t want to let the truth into your fractured and distorted reality, it doesn’t mean that it gets to be right and forced as a truth.

But Jenn, what makes you think you’re not doing that right now?  Because I know what both sides look like because I DID the real and hard work of taking an honest look at myself.  That shit has taken over a decade of hiding myself away from the world and moving through excruciating self honesty and not letting myself get away with ANY bullshit and taking responsibility for myself and everything going on in my life, even when it wasn’t actually my fault.

I didn’t sit there proclaiming to the world around me how I was taking care of myself and doing right by me and how I don’t need no man and the million of things people say trying to convince themselves that they’re actually taking action for their lives when they’re not.  Because when you really are doing what needs to happen to pull your life together, you don’t have time, energy, or even a fuck to give about how other people see you or what they’re thinking about you.  You are heads down and actually taking care of shit, not talking about it.

If this is something that you really have done in your life, then you are not going to have a single issue with me or what I say.  You aren’t going to have a need to “call me out”.  You are going to have compassion and understanding of others and not be so quick to judge.  You give people chances even if they don’t deserve it.  You actually care, not by meaningless words but by an energy that emits from you that people who are closed up and blind can’t feel or detect even if their life fucking depended on it.

If you haven’t done this work, you could stand to shut up and listen to those of us who have.  You might actually learn something.

 Scratchy Bleedy

True To Form Is Our Guiding Star Home

I really needed that temper tantrum.  I needed to feel my fire once again.  Fire is a purifier.  It challenges.  It tests.  Trial by fire.

I then know where and how I’ve gone astray from my Self by what is hurting and burning in me in the aftermath.  It allows me the opportunity to become aware of it and face it, because only what is false will hurt and burn.

It makes it easier for me to see what is True and what’s okay to let go of.  I remember that I have nothing to truly be afraid of because what is Real and True cannot be destroyed or harmed ever.

Beyond this physical realm, beyond what our physical eyes can see, resides the True Form of everything you can see here (and even things that are not here . . . yet).  The more we’re in alignment with it, the more visible and real it becomes to us.  The more out of alignment we are with it, the more distant it becomes.

The longer we go out of alignment with it, the harder it becomes to believe in it’s existence.  It becomes stories passed down through time.  Stuff of myth and legend.  Fairytales.

The less we believe as individuals, the less we start to believe as a whole and the more disconnected and out of balance with nature we become.

All pain, hurt, suffering, diseases, and sickness stems from being out of alignment with our True Forms.

It comes from believing more in what is Not True than in the True Forms.

These True Forms, when struck or expressed, hum out in a single unique vibration.  It is the signature or “name” for that being.  It is how all other beings know it separately from all other beings.

At this level, the energetic signature that it vibrates and hums and expresses in unlimited ways, is not subjective.  It is recognized as it actually is by all, and not skewed by false perceptions.  There is nothing that anyone can say or do that will stop or change the True Forms from being what they are.  Nothing.

Not even our disbelief in them.  All that happens when we stop believing in them, is that we forget them.  (Not the other way around.)  We increase the distance between where we are and where we want to go.  We are all in various degrees of remembering and forgetting these True Forms.

That is where my allegiance is.  That is where I aim my Sagittarius Arrow and shoot towards.

When I become aware of parts of my True Form while in my current life, it is a non-negotiable, non-debatable part of me.  While yes, many people here may have any number of opinions about what they personally think about those parts of me, unless it matches the Truth of my True Form, their opinions and/or feelings are wrong.

Your Truth is universally recognized by all other Truths.  It is not a case of you are in Your Truth, but George over there in His Truth looks over at Your Truth and says, “Nah.”

My loved ones tend to scuba dive in their False Forms.  They can become so disconnected from their True Forms, they forget that their current False Form isn’t who they really are.  They become so filled with fear they close down and cut off or turn away from their connection to their Soul.  When you become anxiety-ridden and afraid, you tense your body immensely and it doesn’t allow the flow of energy from spirit to move through you and to nourish you.

We all do this at some point and to some degree.  But some choose to actively work through it (or healing), and some choose to call it home and live in it their whole life.

When you are closed down like this, you are not in touch with your own true feelings.  It’s not possible.  You have to be open and receptive with warmth and trust in life in order to feel your own true feelings.  You have to do a lot of digging and soul searching with brutal honesty and endless forgiveness of yourself and others as you move through your pain.  There has to be a softness and compassion and understanding for not just yourself but others outside of you as well.  A wider perspective of life and your places in it.

Being emotional, including crying, does not mean that you are in touch with your own true feelings.  Many things are habitual or conditioned learning.  We all carry the burdens and sins of our ancestors with us that we have to break through to get beyond them and reach our own true feelings.  So many things that we think are our feelings, are False Forms.  They are not from our True Forms, and that causes us pain and sorrow in life for as long as we insist on believing them to be True.

Some people mistake their thoughts and opinions as being feelings.  They live in their heads and are completely out of touch with their bodies and believe their own thoughts about feelings to be their actual feelings.  This can often times stem from trauma and trying to flee or escape their bodies and can’t quite get all of the way out through the crown chakra and so they stay in the head area near the doorway so they can flee at a moments notice when things get too real.

However, what happens is that they’re never present (full of fire) within themselves and their physical body doesn’t trust them to be there for it when it needs them and so it goes into a perpetual ‘fight or flight or freeze’ stance and becomes anxiety ridden amongst many other health issues.  If they can learn to not be so scared of life and actually start to allow their presence into the rest of their body, relax and move out of a place of fear, they would find that it’s much, much more comfy and warm and anxiety free.  But my point being, those thoughts about thoughts are not their own true feelings.

Fear is a pretty motivated force.  It can blow things way out of proportion.  It absolutely blinds you and seems to work against you in seeing your own True Form.  It also likes to pretend that it’s not there.  It shows itself in other ways such as always being on guard, being defensive, being too quiet and small and never raising your voice, aggression, illness, laziness, apathy . . . on and on I could go.  I think the most damaging thing about Fear, is how it makes you believe that it is absolutely True.  And that is a Lie.  That is the Great Deception that we have all fallen for.

When you are standing in your True Form it is easier to recognize when others are standing in their True Form and when they’re not.  When you are not standing in your own Truth, it’s much harder to know the difference.

It takes great strength and courage to stand in your Truth by yourself, especially around those you love.  I so easily want to cave in on myself and go along with their Non-Truth just so that I don’t have to be alone, but I always pay a high price for it and it’s not worth it anymore.

So my recent post was to establish for myself that I do get to stay in that place of love.  That I have the strength and will to stand alone in my love for myself and them even if they have forgotten themselves.  I don’t have to listen to their Fear or Falseness or let it influence me.  I don’t even have to let them into my life.  I don’t have to go through life feeling guilty or ashamed for being a terrible daughter or mother when there’s nothing more I can do about it on my end.  In that I get a choice.

 alligator-walking-garden-road-gators-gonna-gate-pics

There’s Nothing You Can Do About Me Loving You

I’ve got a bone to pick.

I, as my own sovereign being, have my very own feelings.  Feelings that I get to feel for no other reason than that they exist.

My issue is that at every turn, I am told in some shape, way, or form that I am wrong in my feelings.  Not outright.  Nobody is outright saying, “Hey Jenn!  You’re an effing liar!”  No.  I would actually prefer if people did that, because that is something I recognize and understand how to fight.

I am surrounded by people that I love very much.  People who do not think very highly of themselves.  Who think less of themselves than they really are.  They are completely and thoroughly convinced that they are undeserving and unworthy of being loved.

I feel people at the Soul level (Neptune/Moon in Sag. conjunction).  I feel the Truth of a person.  I feel my Soul and my Soul feels their Soul.  I know my heart.  I know what I know and I know what I feel.

When I feel love for someone, and I share that feeling with them, whether in the feelings in my words or in my presence, it is genuine.  It’s from my Soul.  My Big Momma Heart.

I don’t have an ulterior motive.  I’m not thinking, ‘Oh, I’ll be here for you now in your hard time so that you are here for me in my hard time.’  I’m not thinking anything.  I’m simply being, emoting, existing in that moment with you.  The only thing I wish for and want, is for what I’m giving, what I’m offering . . . to be received with an open heart.

That is the absolutely most respectful thing that could be done in response to when I go to give of myself in that way.  When the person allows it into them, it fills my heart with warmth and love,  and what better gift could a person be given than to be filled with warmth and love?

But do you know what I get met with instead?

I am met with people closed to receiving.  They think so little of themselves, they refuse to allow anyone to love or comfort them.  All they have are excuses, excuses, excuses.  They think themselves broken beyond repair.  They think nobody can help them or save them.  They’re special in that nobody can reach them or help them.  “Yeah, but in my case . . . ”

It’s not true.  I can see and feel that it’s not true.  I can feel their Soul asking for help.  “Please help me.”  But the mother ‘effin humans themselves?  God save us all, you get in your own stupid way!

Seriously.  In that situation, of the two of us, who do you think is in a better place to have a more healthy and realistic perspective?  So, if something in me says, “This person is in need of care and comfort.” and then the person runs a play that says they are undeserving of being loved or cared for . . . well, don’t you think that’s your problem right there?  You never let love or care in?

And what it immediately says to me, to my feelings, is that my feelings are wrong.  I feel that you need love and care, and you don’t believe it for any reason whether consciously or subconsciously, and then you proceed to try to convince ME that you don’t need or deserve love or care?  Then you sir (or madam) are attempting to tell me that my feelings are wrong, and that does not sit well with me.

You can run around and think and feel whatever stupid nonsense you want to, that is your own damn business.  But don’t you DARE waste any of your time or energy trying to convince me or make me believe that I shouldn’t love you.  Don’t you DARE try to belittle or even hint to me that I am not allowed to fully feel my feelings of love for you just because you believe so LITTLE in yourself!  I don’t care if you hate yourself, you do NOT get to tell me that I don’t love you because of your OWN BULLSHIT!

There is nothing you can do about me loving you. :<

 Fire Lion

In My Search For Peace

I’ve been sitting at my new dining table, working on a puzzle.  I should be going to bed.  As I’ve been piecing together the Geishas in my puzzle, I’ve been thinking, wondering about my life.

The dance poses of Geisha have always stirred something in my soul.  Even as I sit still and silent and stare at the artistic images of them in the quiet of my home, I can feel my soul mimicking and moving in a slow and understated grace.  My soul understands something about them that I do not.  It remembers something that I do not.

I feel for them what an adult might feel for their childhood, if it was a happy one.  An ache in the heart for something that can’t be brought back.  Homesickness for a lost home.

Just me and ghosts of geishas conversing in silence.

I was wondering with them why it’s been so long since I’ve felt truly inspired in my writing.  Why I’ve stopped feeling any satisfaction from it.

It feels like I write to a black void.

I share because it is my nature to.  Even if I was the last human on Earth, I would feel compelled to communicate and share.

I’m not entirely sure how much different it would feel to me if I was the last human on Earth.  As it is, I’ve long since resorted to communing with the trees . . . the wind . . . clouds . . . animals . . . even bugs (if only to respectfully ask them to respect my space and leave . . . which they do).

I know people have tried to hear and understand me.  I don’t mean to dismiss or invalidate others in my life.  They are doing their best, I know.  I love them.

But I’ve felt more seen, and known, and loved by clouds that were passing by, than I have by another human.  The trees have time for me and listen with open hearts.  They are not defensive or caught up in looking good or being right.

The wind is honest in it’s expression.  It has no reason to cover up or hide.

I’m not saying that people don’t care for me, I know that’s not true, they care for me in the only way they know how.  But in comparison with what it’s like to commune with nature, humans are so disconnected from themselves.  How could I possibly expect humans to see me when they aren’t even aware that they can’t see themselves.

They are wrapped in hurt, pain, conditioning and they try to label it as “being themselves” . . . but it is not who they really are.

People seemed to have lost the ability to discern when someone is speaking from the heart and when someone is merely mimicking someone who is speaking from the heart.  They all get thrown into the same cauldron and treated the same.  It’s a shame.

I don’t feel like there is anything I could share of myself that would make any difference in the world or even be heard above all of the noise.

I know I have great value, but I do not feel valuable to this world.

I also know that greater peace comes to me when I am able to accept people and the world just as it is, and stop thinking that I have any role to play in helping others find their way.  People will find their own way without my help, just as they have from the dawn of time.

I am content enough in my connection to life.  Who knows, maybe even more happy than the happiest humans pretend to be.

flower power

Living Large

We did it.  We finished moving.  After two months of planning, packing, moving, and cleaning, I finally got to turn in the keys to my old apartment on Saturday afternoon.

This has been a mega project that has absorbed much of my focus and attention, along with a new job that I started at the same time.  I was at that apartment complex for a total of 5 years and I was at my previous job for 5 1/2 years.  Within a two month period, a great deal of my life has completely changed.

It’s not easy making changes that big.  It disrupts routine.  It rocks me out of ruts and pushes me to deal with things I didn’t even know I was avoiding.  I used it as an opportunity to go through E V E R Y T H I N G and purge, purge, purge.  I came across things I had all but forgotten about.  It brought long forgotten memories, dreams . . . even nightmares . . . back to the surface to be seen and dealt with.

I had forgotten I had been married until I came across the divorce papers.  That was back in 1996.  18 years ago.  I’ve been divorced for 18 years.  Wow.  That was so many lifetimes ago for me.

Sometimes when I have moments like that, where I’m suddenly transported to a much younger version of me, I find myself wanting to reach out to the younger me and give her a hug.  Knowing the path that lie before her, I feel like it’s what she could use most.  In that hug I am saying, “You’re going to make it.  It’s going to be okay.  Just keep believing and don’t give up on yourself.”

Not in a “cheer up kid” kind of way, but in a very deep heartfelt sorrowful “I’m sorry that I can’t tell you that it’s going to be easy, but it’s how it needs to happen” kind of way.

I remember one time, not long after my divorce, when I had been renting a room out of a home that was running a daycare in it.  (I don’t care how good the deal sounds, don’t EVER rent a room from a house running a daycare. Run.  Run as far away from it as possible.)  I made too much money to qualify for any state assistance (something like $50/month too much), but I most certainly did NOT make enough money to pay for childcare, rent, food, gas, car payment/insurance, etc.  I basically worked, so that I could afford to go to work.

I was at a very low point in my life.  A nonstop series of traumatic events kept hitting me like tsunamis, each one becoming harder and harder to recover from.  I was exhausted, under-fed, and under-nourished.  I didn’t have a support network or any friends to go to.  I couldn’t think clearly.  I always felt weak.  But I had a young toddler who was looking to me for care and love.  So I kept pushing myself forward.

On this particular day, I was at the end of my ever-loving rope.  I had $5 to my name.  We were out of food.  My son was unhappily in a stroller.  I walked slowly up and down the aisles of the grocery store, starving.  I was trying to decide what would be the best way to spend that $5.  What would give us the most food that would last the longest, but also make us feel full.

I was so exhausted I could barely put one foot in front of the other.  My son was squirming and starting to get vocal in his stroller.  There was another woman with a kid somewhere else in the store, and that child was having an outright temper tantrum.  My raw nerves couldn’t handle the screaming.   I stopped.  I thought to myself, “I can’t do this.”  I just stood there silent in the bread aisle staring straight ahead.  Something in me gave out.

My vision began to get blurry as huge crocodile tears poured down my face.  I wasn’t making any facial expression, I wasn’t crying in any way that I understood crying to be.  My facial expression, in fact my entire body, was absolutely still except for the tears coming down.

I gave up trying.  I couldn’t see the point of this existence or of fighting this hard just to barely survive from moment to moment.  I didn’t have any answers, any solutions.  My body, mind, and soul had been pushed to the limits for far too long.  I didn’t know what was going to happen, I didn’t know how this was going to solve my problems.  All I knew, is that I didn’t have anything left in me to give.  Not one more step.

I also didn’t care anymore what happened.  I didn’t care if they hauled me away to a mental ward.  I didn’t care what anyone or anything threatened me with, I didn’t have anything left in me to move or care about anything.  I was willing to accept the consequences of whatever happened by me deciding never to move again.  Being absolutely still, was all I could do.  The tears were acting on their own, I simply didn’t have the energy to stop them.

So there I stood for many minutes, feeling like I was on the best vacation from life I had ever happened upon, when something incredible occurred.  A woman who seemed to me like she had appeared from nowhere, gently placed her hand on my shoulder and told me in the most loving and kindest of tones that she had once been where I was, and she wanted me to know that things would be okay, even if it didn’t feel that way right now.

That gesture of such a real and true kindness from a stranger, clicked something back on in me.  I felt myself come back into life.  I looked around.  Suddenly feeling more life in me than I had in awhile, I quickly walked up and down the empty (and now quiet) aisles trying to find the woman to say thank you, but I never did find her.  I was openly crying now, facial expressions and all.  I didn’t care what anyone thought, I was just so grateful for what had been given to me.

I suddenly knew exactly how I needed to spend the $5, and I did so confidently.  I had renewed faith in life and in my ability to overcome.  This was all just temporary.  This wasn’t the whole of my existence.  I had overcome far worse in my life before and I could do it again.  I’ve always found a way through life’s challenges, and I would continue to do so because I wasn’t going to let hard times get the best of me.  There is always, always a way out, around, or through obstacles.  Always.  I would not give up.  I would not let myself or my son down in life.

That woman saved my life.  It didn’t take money or anything of a material nature.  She didn’t do it by lecturing or judging me for being such a young mom (which I got plenty of on a daily basis from all kinds of supposed loving, church-going people . . . which is exhausting and not helpful at all).

What this woman had done that was different from all of the well-intentioned mouthpieces that go around parroting loving and inspirational phrases, was that she offered the words she said to me with a truly open and unguarded heart.  She selflessly gave of her heart to an absolute stranger standing frozen in the middle of a bread aisle.  She had nothing to gain from it.  She said it with absolutely no ego involved.

That’s all I had needed.  Something real.  Something true.  That stranger showed me in that one moment, more true heart and care than I had been able to find in all of the people in my life at that time.  That’s how starved I was for it, and how little it took for me to be willing to give life another try.  To continue to give of my own heart to others again.

With this move and new job, I’ve again been having my limits challenged.  There’s something about being pushed beyond my limits that helps me reset my priorities again.  Helps me regain proper perspective on life.  I go back to that moment in the bread aisle.  I am reminded of how rarely people truly give of their heart.  How even in their “lovingness” they are just as closed off and isolated from one another as the “cold-hearted” of us.  Simply saying loving things, doesn’t make you loving.  Simply going through the motions of being a “good” person, doesn’t mean you’re “good”.

We’ve been conditioned since childhood to see the world through the lens of certain behaviors and actions dictating whether you are a good person or a bad person.  If you ignore someone you are bad.  If you bring them pumpkin bread when they’re sick, you’re good.  Those are all superficial things.  Just because you can put a good show on the outside, doesn’t mean you’re a good person.  Just because you can’t hide the hurt in you and you act out, doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.

We’ve got it all wrong.  All of that is superficial judgment.  It’s both more simple and more complex than that.

It’s more simple in that, anything done with an open heart . . . is “good”.  Anything done with a closed heart is “bad”.  That’s only if you’re needing or wishing to slap labels on things such as good or bad.

It’s more complex in that, it means you can’t judge someone or a situation based on what is being shown or by a set list of characteristics of what it means to be good or bad.  The only way you’re actually able to know or discern the difference between whether the actions of a person is of one persuasion or the other, is when your own heart is open.  Until then, you will struggle to see clearly who is truly in the right and wrong.  You will more easily be persuaded by those who have the gift of gab and can spin a good story, and/or you won’t be able to see past your own projection onto others.

The irony is that when you’re truly coming from an open heart, you realize how absolutely pointless and futile judging others truly is.  That it’s when you can see things for what they really are, that you no longer feel the want or need to judge others.

Speaking for myself personally, when I hit those moments where my heart truly opens and my guard is completely dropped, that what comes forward in me is an incredible love and sorrow.

When a person can see through everyone’s mask, how could they feel anything but incredible love and sorrow?

When you can see how they hurt inside.  That life has broken their heart in some way and they are just trying to make the best of it that they can.  When you can see how alone they feel.  The loneliness and heartbreak I see hiding in people’s eyes as they go about their day, pretending like they’re fine . . . is heartbreaking and painful to see in another.  I feel overwhelmingly heartbreaking sorrow and actual physical pain in my heart.  The things we argue over and fight about are so pointless and miniscule in the big scheme of things.  So trivial and meaningless in the face of real love.

But it doesn’t bring me to my knees in helplessness, hopelessness, and powerlessness.  I don’t feel anger, anymore, about how unfair and unnecessary it is for the world to suffer in the way that it does.

Instead, I feel a great weight fall away from me.  My guard, my defense, my mask.  I feel my pride disintegrate.  I feel my judgment and need to be in the right dissipate.  Something bigger than me, unfolds and expands from deep within, a feeling that I refer to as ‘opening my big momma heart’.  All of these feelings combined, I refer to as “forgiveness” and “letting go”.  I stop feeling the need to try and make anyone or anything be or do anything other than what they are.  I let them be, because I need all of my own attention to be focused on being who I am.

When everything that isn’t real has fallen away from me, I feel the overwhelming need to sing the heartbreaking love I feel for every human.  For the collective, yes, but more than that.  I feel it for every single human being as an individual.  This intense force of energy that barrels through me like a bull charging a red flag.  The passionate and sorrowful heartbreak that comes from witnessing a child needlessly suffering and hurting, but that there’s nothing you can do personally about it because it’s their life and their choice.

But you want to at least let them know that they’re not alone.  Soothe them with heartfelt sorrowful songs . . loving lullabies, that sing of their heartbreak and pain.  Letting them know that you’re there, that you are a witness to their pain and suffering.

And the love.  The endless open love I feel pouring through me.  It’s nothing to do with whether someone is deemed worthy of love or not based on whether they are following social protocol, simply existing is reason enough to be worthy of love.  Every being, every individual, is worthy of love.

People do things and act in ways that are not like themselves when they are hurt or in pain.  Have you ever seen how a mistreated or abused dog will lash out or try to bite when they become scared?  Has the dog become evil?  Does the dog no longer deserve to be given love?  Or is love, care, and patience what he needs more than ever?

It’s no different for people.

To judge anyone as “bad” is to cut yourself off from love and if it is severe and persistent enough, you will become the “bad” you are judging.  The more you try to recoil, shield, and protect yourself from the bad, the more you push yourself into the darkness.  The further into the darkness you go, the less light or consciousness you have.  The less light or consciousness you have, the more you go into denial and ignorance about what is really happening.  The more you go into denial and ignorance about what is really happening, the less control and power you feel you have over your life circumstances.  The less control and power you feel you have over your life and circumstances, the more you become either a victim or aggressor.  Being locked in either role of victim or aggressor, is to be locked in a perpetual prison of suffering and miserableness.

When you can see that victim and aggressor are both sides of the same coin, when you can see that neither one is the way out of your suffering . . . and you’ve actually reached a point of truly being done with suffering . . . only then can you begin the path towards true freedom.  It is a path of humbleness and true forgiveness.  A path of getting out of your own way.  Of letting go of pettiness.  Of uncovering who you really are versus what you’ve become in an effort to survive the moment your heart broke when you were a child and your innocence was lost.

The path to truly learning how to love again.

big duck