Death And Rebirth In Mid-Swing

Nearly two weeks ago (June 10, 2015 to be exact), I received some news that has forever altered my life.

But first let me back up to the week before that.  June 2 I celebrated my 38th birthday.  It was a great birthday.  I was at work, but a coworker had scooted away around lunch time (which is nothing unusual), but returned along with half of the office, singing happy birthday with a great big cake for me.  It was all done with such warmth and sincerity that it was easily one of my best birthdays.  I had people calling and texting me that I hadn’t heard from in awhile.  It filled me with such a feeling of being loved and cared about.

This was a welcomed change of pace after an incredibly challenging year both professionally as well as personally.  My girl kitty dying, starting a new job after nearly 6 years, moving a month after starting the new job, a series of events that led to me kicking my beloved 19 year old son out of the house and he went to go live with my mom, one of my step dads dying (which hit me harder than I would’ve previously imagined), finding out my dad’s colon cancer had returned, and then having to work triply hard so as to not lose my job right around the Christmas holidays.

Which I did manage to keep, but I paid a steep price for it with my health.  After months of dragging my knuckles on the ground I finally went into the doctors and found that I had middle ear infections and was immediately put on round 1 of antibiotics and loaded up with all kinds of other things.  I was told that it was probably going to take a 2nd round and that it may take awhile to get better and to just be patient with the process.

I hadn’t taken an actual vacation in over two years, and it was around this time that I realized I was in dire need of some time off.  I started to feel very strongly that I wanted . . . needed to take off 2 weeks in June to go see Jay in The Netherlands.  It’s been over 3 years since we first met, and my god have we been through some shit together.  We weren’t even on speaking terms with each other when I first felt the desire to go see him for a couple of weeks.

I was so worn down by life at this point, that I was able to actually start seeing beyond my own bullshit to my real and true feelings.  I had let unimportant things get in the way of our relationship.  I wanted to try again.  Luckily, he felt the same.  I booked the trip and was scheduled to leave June 5th for two weeks.  After which, I would have a week at my current job assignment and then scheduled to begin a new assignment on July 1, which I’m very excited about.

This was my life as I knew it leading up to June 10th, in which I found myself sitting next to Jay on the couch when I received the fateful news.  And thank god I was, because heaven help me if I had been sitting by myself in my apartment in the Seattle area upon hearing what I did.

I was alerted to the fact that *something* had happened but wasn’t given any details surrounding it.  Due to the time difference and the fact that I hadn’t told everyone I was traveling internationally, I woke up to frantic “Are you okay?!” messages from my brother and a missed call from my mother.  Initially I remained calm and speculated on what the problem could be, with Jay.  But the more I thought about it, the more I began to panic because it was all highly unusual and made no sense.

Right as I was getting ready to wake up all of North America in order to find out what in blue blazes was going on, I received a text from my mother that simply read, “I tried to call.  Look up komo news Bjorn Anderson.”

Can I just stop here for a moment and say that these are the absolute last kind of words that a mother ever wants to see?

Something bad had happened to my baby.  My boy.  I didn’t yet know what, but I did know that it wasn’t going to be happy news such as, “19 year old wins Powerball lottery!”

I imagined a number of horrible things, including a terrible car accident.  I was already falling apart, my entire body shaking like a tree in a hurricane, crying and saying no, no, no, no, no not my boy, not my baby . . . Jay grabbing ahold of me and trying to hold me still, letting me know I didn’t have to look yet if I didn’t want to . . . but I had to.  I had to know my son’s fate.  I had to know if he still lived or if I had lost him.

In the days that followed, I was most haunted by the scene I first saw in the news clip, unable to comprehend it.  Watching people on the news I don’t even know, talking about my son.  This boy I had given birth to.  This young man that I love with all of my heart and that I had spent the last 19 years of my life dedicated to caring for and raising until last September . . . was now being paraded before me in handcuffs and a prison uniform . . . for the attempted murder of my mother.

I’ll leave it up to you to look up the details of their story if you so choose.

The rest of my vacation was spent calling everything in my life into question.  Grieving.  Processing.  Integrating.  Taking stock of my life, gaining clarity.  Decisions were made.

I’ve returned to the States, and today I return to work . . . but this will be my final year here.

I’ve lived the majority of my life on my own.  Soldiering through crisis after crisis with no one to depend on but myself.  But this absolutely crossed a line with me.  If it wasn’t for the care, love, patience, and support given to me by Jay and his family . . . I wouldn’t still be here.  Maybe in body . . . but me . . . the soul and spirit inside of me, would no longer be in this world.

It was made very clear to me that my new home is there and where I belong now.  I’ve returned only to start wrapping my life up here and to give time for us to make all of the necessary arrangements and planning.

My main reason for sharing what’s happened in this way is because I’d rather get it all out in the open for everyone to see.  I want my friends, coworkers, and family to all be aware of this huge transition that I am in because I don’t want to be isolated by it.  I don’t want to feel like I have to hide this big secret from everyone and be alone in it.

I don’t want to be isolated from any of you due to my sorrow and grief, which allows me to also openly share with you my joy and happiness of my upcoming wedding and move overseas.  These things have always gone hand in hand in my life.  A paradox of simultaneous deep grief and unbridled joy.

There’s no reason for me to hide any of it, as they are both a part of life.  I wish to share both with you, so that no part of me has to hide in the darkness anymore and feel lonely.

Although, much of that loneliness has already been alleviated by my soon to be husband, Jay.  We’ve begun to move in sync with each other, switching my worldview to one centered in *us* instead of *I*.  This is brand new for me.  I’ve never known this feeling before.  I feel that it really suits me.  I feel like it’s something that I’ve been longing for and missing all along.

In the coming days, weeks, months I wish to openly share this transition.  This bittersweet goodbye to an old life and hello to a new life.  A death and rebirth in mid-swing.

Love

Hello?

Loneliness is a strange thing in my mind.  It’s not always obvious to me when I’m experiencing it.  It’s not always obvious to me when I’m trying to hide from it.  It’s not always obvious to me whether it is me that is lonely because of cutting off from everyone else, or whether everyone else is cut off from me.

As I speak, where Venus (What we love) is currently located in the sky (Taurus 3 degrees) is the same degree that my natal Chiron (Wounded Healer or Deepest Wound) is located.  Even when a planet as lovely as Venus comes near something that owie in our chart, it is going to hurt.  I don’t relish when any contact is made with this degree on my chart . . . but I also learned not to run from it.  At least with Venus, it helps soften it enough for me to summon my courage to keep my eyes open as I look at it, even as I’m saying “owie owie owie owie owie” through my tears.

Because I do want to see it.  Even if it’s gross and gory with broken bones poking out of the skin, and makes me wanna throw up.  How else can I take action to make it better if I don’t know what I’m dealing with?  Either way it’s going to hurt, but at least this way I have a chance of some day being free of it.

While in most cases I don’t have any problems going where angels fear to tread, Chiron is one area of my life that I pretty much have to be tricked into facing.  “Oh look Jenn, what’s that over there?  Is that cake?  That’s definitely cake.  You should go check it out.”  Otherwise it’s a whole bunch of nope.

Nope Finger

 This is in my 1st house of self, so it’s like a linchpin anchored into the core of my psyche.  It’s also conjunct (right next to) my natal Mars & Venus which are very personal planets.  Well, and them both being in Aries, you can’t get anymore personal than that.  So inevitably, to get to my personal Self, I have to navigate the ninja land mind that is Chiron within me.

Chiron in mythology was an immortal and revered centaur who was a great healer and founded the ‘school of heroes’ in which many greats were trained.  One day he was accidentally shot with a poisoned arrow (one of Hercules) and despite his extraordinary healing abilities, was unable to heal the wound.  He was in incredible pain, but because he was immortal he was unable to die.  He had to learn how to come to peace with it.

One day he comes across Prometheus who is going through his own miserable existence from having stolen fire from the gods and was being punished by being chained to a rock and every day having his liver eaten by an Eagle and every night growing a new liver.  (I have to hand it to the gods for coming up with some pretty gnarly and yet creative punishments.)

Because of Chiron’s own personal experience of dealing with an agonizing situation of his own, he felt compassion for Prometheus’s situation.  He couldn’t heal himself, but he could help Prometheus and in doing so . . . he *did* help his own pain.  Chiron offered to give up his immortality to Prometheus which would free him.  Prometheus became immortal and broke free from the rock he was chained to, and Chiron dropped dead.  It was a win/win.

Actually, Chiron was given a place in heaven as a constellation for his great sacrifice and is now all sparkly and magical.

I have to tell you though, I’m less than thrilled about this being in my first house of Self.  It’s not in my house of Other where I come across others that are wounded in life.  It’s not in my house of Humanity or large groups of people that were wronged in history.  It’s not this thing that I encounter outside of me where I can see it and look at it objectively and figure out how to help from the comfort of my own skin.  It is this *thing* that has always been present with me since birth.  And I can’t be who I really am unless I walk smack straight into this pain and just stand my ground within, until I am strong enough to be able to bear it without passing out.

It’s like trying to get emotionally strong enough to be capable of performing open heart surgery on yourself.  You obviously have to stay conscious and fully present the whole time along with great discipline and endurance to stomach some raw gory shit.

There’s a point where you have endured so much pain for so long with no let up or relief, that something else starts to take you over.  Something that transcends normal everyday existence.  It’s too much to hold onto and live with, and so your choices become to either die or to let go of things that really do not matter.

I think it’s also important to understand that this pain I live with, I was born with.  My mom said I suffered night terrors from birth.  I remember having dreams that were so real and lucid that I was traumatized by them over and over.  One dream I remember when I was six, was of being a girl of about the same age in a house that was on fire and the smoke and flames were getting into my room.  I was trying to get out but the doors and walls were too hot.  I was trapped and forced to my bed where I started to lose consciousness from not being able to breathe.

I became fully lucid during that dream which felt as real as real life, but I could also feel my current six year old body thrashing on my real bed and me screaming at myself to please wake up and even scratching at my eyes trying to force them open so that I could end the nightmare.

I have never really been able to talk about this ever present pain in me.  There are no words for what I experience inside.  I wish I could.  I want to.  Not for sympathy . . . not for pity.  Not for attention.  It’s this burning need to try and reach anyone else out there that is going through this same pain and have lost their own voices to express this indescribable *thing* that they live with every day and who nobody ever truly hears and who are never allowed to truly speak and who feel alone in life because of it . . . to say that I understand your pain and that you are not alone.

There is one thing that living with this pain does not do, and that is procure a desire to compete with other people about who hurts or suffers more.  My need, my desire to be heard is not one born out of selfishness and need for attention.  It is not to get my way or to excuse my behavior.

You know how sometimes a person will yell out when they’ve cut or hurt themselves unexpectedly before they get control of themselves?  That is the same need in me that pushes me to find a way to express it.  I don’t talk about my stuff to whine, never moving on with my life, I am driven to find words to say it, to share it.  And something about sharing it, heals something in me.  When it reaches someone who knows this same pain, it has the ability to help heal something in them too.

In fact, if I go too long not actively working on this and doing this, the pain becomes crippling in me to the point that I can barely function and then I have to start all over again to get back to the same point I was at before.  Just like Chiron where he was in pain but couldn’t heal it for good, but he also couldn’t die.  I have no choice but to deal with it in the manner that it needs to be dealt with.

If I had to put a name to what it is that pains me right here and right now, I would say that it is the same as the night terrors I had when I was a child where I am conscious and lucid both in the sleep state and in the awake state.

I am aware of my soul Awake state at the same time that I am aware of my sleep human state and my soul Awake state is thrashing around trying to wake up from this night terror that we are all living in and think is real.  It’s not.  This is exactly like a bad dream.  You have to shake yourself awake, it’s time to wake up!

Please remember who you really are.  Please remember your soul and who you were before you were born here and lost all of your memories.  Please shake off the amnesia.  Please become present and come more fully into your body.  Please drop all of the petty and trivial shit now and remember yourselves!

I don’t want to be alone in this anymore.  I need for you guys to start showing up.  Where are you?  Are you out there?  Anybody?

 

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)

blue-frog-anxiety-attack-students

 

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

Tending To The Home Fire

I often find myself searching through websites and articles online, looking for something.  Listening to new song after new song.  Hoping the melody, words, or something sparks back memories of feelings that have gone missing.  Trying to remember what I’ve forgotten.  What I’ve hidden away in an effort to protect those tender parts of me.

I can’t stand any of the numbness in me anymore.

My hope is that others who still remember those things in themselves that I’ve forgotten, have found the strength and courage to share those things open-heartedly.

I know immediately when I’ve come across one of those pieces, whether it’s a single sentence, idea, or a haunting melody.  I feel an immediate relief in my tightened stomach and a very short, but cathartic cry.  Intense, humbling gratefulness.  The whole of my awareness pulses out Thank You.

It’s how we keep the Divine Fire alive here.

You’ve been hurt . . . you’ve forgotten a part of yourself.  It will be okay, I still remember this piece.  Let me soul sing it back to you until you remember again for yourself.

Whenever I’m walking my path through the dark, I can feel in very still moments, the heart songs of those in the Light.  Letting me know that they are holding the memories of who I really am in safekeeping, so that I won’t be lost forever.  That I am not forgotten.

I’ve been going through a lot internally as of late.  I became scared because everywhere I turned, I saw that people had gone into the dark.  I recognize the look in their eyes.  I recognize the look of being lost.  Of trying to pretend like everything’s okay.  Of not wanting to admit where they are.

I’m used to being the only one going through the dark, and nobody else understanding where I am.  I finally find and claw my way out, and then everyone else goes in?  Why am I always standing by myself no matter where I go?

I had to become very still and quiet in myself so that I could hear my heart again.

The thing about having spent my life in the dark, is that I’m not so scared there anymore.  No matter where I go, whether anxiety, rage, paranoia, terror, or even full out insanity . . . I consciously know where I am.  I know how to go in and out of those places.  I understand them intimately.

This helped me further open my eyes and see what’s taking place in my life and the opportunity it holds for my growth.

My feeling of being alone comes from shielding or protecting my heart.  I was feeling like I would have to do that while everyone else is in the dark so that they don’t pull me back into the dark with them.  People in the dark act very similar to drowning victims by nearly taking out the person trying to help them, in their panic to be helped.

But I know the dark for what it really is.  I know that I have no reason to be afraid while I’m in it.  But I’m usually alone in those feelings.  Listening to the other divas in the dark, they’d have me believe that I really should be afraid.  If I believe their intense fear over my heart, then the lights go out for me too.

This has happened to me so many times, that I’ve even come to know that place.  I’ve brought in an interior decorator to fix the place up because it’s been my home for so long, I figured I might as well make it comfy.

I know I’m not here by accident.  I wasn’t put in the dark to be punished.  In fact, knowing me, I most likely enthusiastically volunteered because I’m crazy like that.

So what if . . . instead of standing on the sidelines where it’s safe and yelling obscene inspirational quotes into the darkness . . . what if I was one of the ones who made the choice to go wholly into the darkness?  Go in and learn everything about it until I saw it for what it really was, ultimately losing my fear of it.

What happens when we lose our fear?  Our hearts open.

What happens when our hearts open?  The Light comes in.

What cannot survive the Light?  The Dark.

I can do that.  If it means not being alone anymore.  If it means giving others a spark of hope in the dark.  Then I can do that.

Dancy Quan

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

 

Love Out Loud And With All Of Your Heart

So a week ago on Friday I had started to feel like I could maybe use a little break from work.  Nothing major, just a couple of days added on to a weekend.  So I arranged to have the following Thu. & Fri. off.  Was totally looking forward to it.

The following Mon. evening I was holding my girl kitty, Raven.  She had what seemed like a nasty cold earlier this year, but she recovered from it alright.  But lately, she had started to look like it had returned.  And then there was her weight loss.  And a few other things the more I thought about it.  Overall everything else was normal . . . but not quite.

Something told me to make a vet appt. first thing the next morning.  I even found myself telling my boy kitty, Gir, to look after his sister.  I suddenly had this feeling like I wasn’t really sure that she’d make it to morning.  I can be a little dramatic in my head, so this is absolutely normal for me.  I put it down to REALLY needing a vacation.

So I got Raven in Tues. morning, and they checked her over.  The vet said that she had a strange mix of symptoms, and most concerning was the weight loss.  Raven will be 7 this June, so they decided to do a senior blood panel.  They also tested her ear wax (been tugging on her ear) and also x-rays.  Before I left they gave me some ear cream for her ears because they did find something that may have been irritating her.  They said they’d call me with the results for everything else by the next morning, and I said to please leave a voicemail if I didn’t answer because I’m horrible about answering the phone.  Initial look at the x-rays looked pretty good.  So no big worries.

In my optimistic sunshine world, I was able to contribute all of her issues down to her ears and that magically the ear cream was going to make her ALLLL better.  Yes.  That’s how it works, right?  I didn’t think anything of it when I didn’t hear back by that evening.  I had a meeting Wednesday morning, and I managed to work Raven into the conversation . . . which I then realized that I should have heard back by then.  I started checking my phone.  I still wasn’t concerned, but something was bugging me way in the background of my awareness.

No.  Ear cream.  She has the ear cream.  It’s cool.  No news is good news, right?  It’s just her ears, I’m totally blowing it out of proportion.

So I went on with my day.  After work I went to pickup my son from college and we went home.  I was all, “I’m officially on vacation, so let’s stop at Starbucks and get Cake Pops!  I’m gonna let loose!”  So the merriment continued all the way home.  I was totally looking forward to my 2 days off and it leading into a 4 day weekend.

After I got home, I checked my phone and oh! look, a voicemail from the vet.  Cool.  Let’s get this over with so I can continue on with my weekend, I’m sure it’s the whole “everything looks good, nothing seems to be seriously wrong” voicemail.  Hit the “play voicemail” button . . .

And what I heard, is NOT what I was expecting by any means.

” . . . regarding the test results, unfortunately . . . Raven has severe Renal Failure . . . suspected Heart Failure . . . severe Anemia . . . ”

My whole world flipped on it’s head.  It felt like all of time zoomed in on that moment.  Then like someone drove a nail through to the center of my head with the single pointed message of, “Raven is dying.”

I glanced at her laying in her box on the floor.  Something in me gave, and from deep within the sorrow came rising up and out of me.  The ground began to give out from under me, and I came down hard crying.  My son had been in the bathroom and he came running out and grabbed ahold of me to comfort me, as I tried to find the words to repeat the news to him.

I call my son the animal whisperer.  It’s like he was born to communicate with all animals.  They naturally come to him.  He has an incredible soft spot in his heart for all of God’s creatures.  So I knew this was going to greatly affect him.

I finally started to collect myself and say, it’s going to be okay.  That this is a part of the cycle of life, and if it’s her time it’s her time, and it’s going to be okay.  Which Raven decided was the time to come join the party.

I tell you, it’s hard to keep your heart from closing and going numb during times like this.

And as a single parent, you have to keep yourself together in order to take care of things.  So it’s especially easy to ignore your feelings in the name of taking care of business.

After that, I felt a need to connect with other people.  Having done a superb job of isolating myself, reaching out means going to Facebook.  So I started posting status updates as a means to not feel so alone in this heart wrenching situation.  It really does feel less alone when you can post an update and know that others will see or read it.  Even if they don’t respond back . . . there’s still a feeling of community.  That feeling of there being a witness to your life . . . that it’s not being lived in obscurity.

Raven before hospital 4-24-14

Thursday morning before going to the hospital.

So my two days that I had planned the week before, were exactly what I needed because Thursday morning I had to take her to be admitted into the hospital.  Thursday evening I transported her to a 24 hr care hospital, where she stayed until Sunday evening.

Raven at hospital 4-24-14

At the 24hr hospital.

She got to come home last night.  And my poor little angel kitty.  She’s only 7 . . . but she’s behaving like she’s 20.  She’s saved my life so many times in the last 7 years with her love.  She got me through all the hospitalizations of my son.  I’d come home and she’d hop on my lap and place all four paws onto my heart chakra area and purr herself to sleep.

Raven back home 4-27-14

Just returned from the hospital.

I’ve had kidney issues my whole life as well.  Between that and the emotional stress from the last 7 years, is it any wonder that she’s suffering kidney and heart failure?  Our pets help us in so many ways that we are unaware of.  Taking on some of the energetic load of our own suffering onto themselves.  Where else do you find that pure of a love?

She’s at stage 4 renal failure and yes, I can see her little body struggle as she rests next to me.  I love my pets as my children.  I don’t care how ridiculous that seems to some.  It’s a blessing and a gift to feel that kind of love for another living being.

When I visited her at the hospital on Saturday, and it was time for me to go . . . I looked back at her in the room with the IV hooked to her front paw and watching her struggle to stand until I had left, kind of like “See mom, I’m doing okay.” . . . I felt the waves of sorrow that continue to wash over me.  The feeling of “oh god, this can’t be happening . . she can’t be dying . . . not my Raven girl.”

It’s hard.  When I can’t handle it and I feel myself cut off from my feelings, I feel myself get mad and thinking things like, “How long is this going to drag out?  Why won’t she just die so I can start grieving? Now my whole life is going to revolve around trying to care for her as she slowly dies.”  I feel like a monster when I think those things.

But then the swell of sorrow rises up through me again, and I’m a crying puddle on the floor again.  And it feels really good to let them out.  To just open up and let it out.  While I may be dramatic in my head, I rarely let those things escape to the outside of me when others are around.

But then I think . . . this IS dramatic.  This is Life Drama coming to me Live!  If this isn’t a situation where it’s okay for me to feel sorrow dramatically out loud, then when is it?  And the answer is, whenever I feel it that deep and that strong.  That’s when it’s okay.  Letting it out . . . not squeezing it tight into me and crying silent tears.

THIS is life.  THIS is a part of living!

My kitty girl who has been a constant companion to me for the last 7 years is dying.  It hurts goddamn it!  It hurts and it needs to be let out.  I need to feel it.  I need to feel the sadness and sorrow of this big thing that is happening emotionally to me.  REALLY FEEL it.  Let it roar through my whole body, giving it a voice.  Letting it be seen and felt and heard.

It’s what reminds us that we’re alive!  I don’t want to shrink from this experience.  I want to walk whole-heartedly into it.  I will not shrink from life and all it has to offer.  Whether good or bad I will face it with an open and aware heart.  I will make it my JOY to care for her in her remaining days.  She deserves my presences and awareness to her situation.  She deserves my open heart and love and bravery during this time of need in her short life.  She deserves to have someone go through this WITH her instead of by herself by me cutting off from my feelings.

It’s our feelings and love and care for others that open us up to them and keeps them from feeling alone.  If you cut off from your feelings for any reason, you leave the people around you in the cold.  You may think that you’re just being responsible or however you see it . . . but the result is the same . . . it leaves others in the cold.  It separates you from others.  It leaves you feeling alone and it leaves others feeling like you’ve left them, even if you’re physically present.

Take it from me, I’ve done it my whole life.  It’s taken a lot for me to see and understand it for myself.  I know it can hurt to feel . . . but only when you fight it.  When you openly embrace it and welcome it . . . it floods you with healing and warmth and love, as well as removing the feeling of being alone and isolated.  I promise it’s far better to feel your feelings than to cut yourself off from them.  That’s a hell I hope to never revisit.

Love.  Love out loud. Love with all of your heart.  Love without shame.

Compassion And The Coming Sickness

I had a series of dreams a little over a year ago that were pointing to something that would start happening down the road.  They keep coming to my awareness, so I feel like maybe now is the time to share them.  They’re fairly short, simple, and to the point.

One was people coming down with a sickness that was referred to as “Scarlet Fever”.  However, it wasn’t anything to do with the thing we already know as Scarlet Fever.  It was more to do with the color of red.  It wasn’t very pleasant to go through.  I was going from person to person who was struck with it, and comforting them.  I was letting them know that I knew how horrible it felt, but that it doesn’t last long.  Just endure it a short time, and then it will be over.

In another dream I had walked into a remote temple (I want to say Buddhist?).  It was very ancient.  It was dedicated to Quan Yin.  I was inside and had walked up to the main statue of Quan Yin.  All around me, people were falling sick and throwing up.  In that dream it was made clear to me, that Compassion was the key to surviving and getting through this illness.  Opening your heart.

In the final dream, I was at work.  Everyone had been getting steadily weaker and ill, and yet still tried to continue everything as if nothing was going on.  People were laying down all over the place from weakness and sickness.  I was so frustrated that everyone was so much more focused on keeping business going as usual instead of taking care of themselves.  That they were missing the point to change and start leaning towards focusing on what is truly important in life instead of continuing to focus on things that really don’t matter.

In summary, the illness and sickness stems from Spirit.  Yes, it comes in the form of things like flu/colds and whatever other countless things we want to call it . . . but the purpose or point is a kind of purification.  The more you try to hold onto things that aren’t real or true in the heart/spiritual nature, the more ill you are going to become.

Not as punishment, but because it’s time to let go of the untruths and illusions that we hold onto.  You can do it consciously, or you can let the sickness do it for you.  In either case, it is important that you go inward and reconnect to your heart and to what you know is true and real there.

Quan Yin 1

 

Take Your Soul Back And Love Again

There exists a black smoke cloud entity invisible to the human eye.  It is able to move in and out of humans at will.  It has an intelligence.

We’re all aware of it at some level, but choose to repress it because it scares us.

It doesn’t have any actual power.  It doesn’t have any creative force or life giving energy of its own.  It’s able to mimic and learn, but not create something new all on its own.

However, it is able to convince you to use your creative energy to get done what it wants.  All it has to do, is play upon your weakness.  It finds your weakness and convinces you that your fears are real and true.  That’s all it needs to do.  That’s all it is able to do . . . is convince you that your fears are true.

Because as soon as a human believes something to be true . . . they use their own creative force and energy to bring it about.  And so it’s nearly as effective as the black smoke cloud entity having its own creative power.

I’m not using metaphors, btw.  This black smoke cloud entity is very real.  It is the actual source of fear.

It’s able to cloak itself . . . mimic you well enough . . . that it’s nearly impossible to distinguish it from your own thoughts.  It’s subtle enough to not set off any alarms that it’s coming from an outside source.

As long as you believe your fears to be true, you become trapped in a jail cell of your own making.  You get stuck in an energetic web of your own creative energy.

The greatest “power” this black smoke cloud entity has, is in its invisibility.  As long as nobody is aware of it, it is able to move through undetected wreaking havoc and maintaining control.

It especially targets those with lots of life force or creative energy.  The more life force, light, love, creative energy you have . . . the more the black smoke cloud entity wants you for its own purposes.

Some of the brightest beings currently here are paralyzed in fear due to this combination of incredible light and a lack of awareness of the black smoke cloud entity.

You can see where in your life this will show up the most in your natal chart, by looking for where Pluto is located and what he touches.  In those areas of your life, is where the black smoke cloud entity will show up the heaviest and therefore create a fear surrounding that area of your chart.

It can come through your loved ones, yourself, events and circumstances.  Anywhere the black smoke cloud entity can move and is allowed to influence, it can manipulate and use.

The black smoke cloud entity is not invincible, however.

It cannot control you once you become aware of it and refuse to play its game.  It will try to scare the living bejeezers out of you with what looks like very real threats . . . but it cannot actually harm you.

It cannot control you when you swallow your pride and take personal responsibility for yourself.  Even if you have a weak moment and it’s able to get through and start scaring you, take personal responsibility for moving back out of fear.  Take personal responsibility to gain strength and push yourself past the fear and out of the clutches of the black smoke cloud entity.

Belief and faith.  Believe in things really being beautiful and loving.  Have faith that the beautiful and loving things in life are real.  If you allow yourself to be a Pollyanna with your whole open heart despite the ugliness that appears to be happening on the outside of this world . . . the black smoke cloud entity loses its hold on you . . . it loses its power over you.

When you have the courage to believe in love and happiness, and to act as if it is true despite your fear . . . it loses its power over you.

When you refuse to believe the reality it would have you believe, it makes you stronger and the black smoke cloud entity weaker.

You can 100% guarantee that whatever it is you are afraid of, is the influence of this entity.  It’s the battle that wages on inside of all of us.  Who we are versus what this black smoke cloud entity wishes us to believe because while we do . . . it’s in control of this world.

When you stop believing that your fears are real . . . when you truly believe in your heart . . . then the black smoke cloud entity is forced to set you free.

Forgiveness.

When you can see that the fear and craziness erupting is more to do with this black smoke cloud entity flowing through the masses trying to snag any weaknesses of the heart and exploiting it to hurt the rest of us and weaken our own hearts . . . then you can start to feel more compassion and forgiveness for what we are all going through right now.

Not everything is as it seems.  Just because someone flies off the handle and kills people, doesn’t mean it was the person themselves.  Their only fault is having a moment of weakness in their faith of their heart.  That’s why it is not for us to judge others and condemn them, because we cannot see what battle they are fighting below the surface.

This unseen fight and battle that the black smoke cloud entity insists on being kept a secret . . . hidden.  He wants us to lash out on each other and accuse and blame each other . . . because it creates even more fear and isolation and division between us . . . and it strengthens the black smoke cloud entity.

Not coincidentally, today, transiting Uranus is in exact opposition to my natal Pluto which is conjunct my descendant.  Uranus is about breaking free.  It’s in the sign of Aries . . . the warrior . . . where my rising sign, Venus, Mars, and South Node all reside.  Aries also rules the head.

It’s my 1st house, house of self.  I’ve been facing this black smoke cloud entity head on my entire life.  I’m able to see it and be aware of it and call it out on its own shit.  It has gone through all of my loved ones in my life trying to get at me.

If they have any weakness, flaws, doubts, fears . . . this black smoke cloud entity jumps on it and wreaks havoc both for the individual I love, as well as for me.  This has been happening since the day I was born.

I have gone through periods in my life of being afraid to let anyone into my life, because I knew the black smoke cloud entity would start its shit.  Two different boyfriends actually woke up in the middle of the night, having a very literal black smoke fog over them and trying to choke the life out of them . . . using their fear of course.

It’s been a battle within me to keep my vision clear . . . to understand that it’s not the individual themselves that are hurting me, but this entity.  It’s been a battle within me to keep my vision of myself clear, and to not believe the things that others think and accuse me of based on their fears that are being played upon.  A battle within to keep my strength up even when others start associating the black smoke cloud entity with me . . . because it always seems to come around when they are around me, and start to fear me as if I’m the source.

And it’s been a battle within me to keep forgiving and remembering what is really going on . . . what the truth of the situation of the world is.  To keep persevering.  To not give up my belief in love and my heart.  To have faith that one day, this black smoke cloud entity will be unmasked and everyone will see for themselves the truth and what has been going on.

“Being alone . . . that’s your thing.”

That’s my weakness . . . my wound that is exploited by the black smoke cloud entity.  My pain and my wound of being alone and the fear of continuing to be alone.  That quote is what was said to me in a dream last fall.  The black smoke cloud entity has no mercy.  It has shredded that fear within me over and over.

In the last week, as the opposition between the current transiting Uranus and my natal Pluto has been getting closer, the black smoke cloud entity has been working overtime.

In one dream that became lucid, a dark black shadow being was right on me.  I could feel it with my physical body in my bedroom.  Trying to scare and intimidate me.  It unnerved me a hair . . . but this has been a really long and intense battle between us . . . and I’m really tired of its shit.

And then one morning as I was waking up I got very clearly the message, “You’re a smart girl, back off.”

It was very distinctly a warning.  One that I just couldn’t seem to get rattled about.  There’s a point where you just don’t care anymore.  I’m tired of fighting.  Threaten and scream all you want, but when you’re just bone-soul weary . . . it’s like, “Oh yeah?  Well, fuck you.”

fuck shit up

Let My Big Heart Run Free

Having such huge intense archetypes hitting personal points on your natal chart is a hoot, let me tell ya.

These are no mere mortal mood swings I’m having.  It’s like the Gods and Goddesses are having recess in my psyche.  It’s so B I G . . . E P I C . . . I N T E N S E . . . and oh so D R A M A T I C.  I feel like this could use a soundtrack.  {goes to look for mood setting music}  Ah, here’s one.  It’s like living in the middle of this all of the time (Audiomachine – Guardians at the Gate):

Actually . . . pretty much anything by Audiomachine is appropriate.

In order to let that big of an energy through . . . you have to do some heavy duty surrendering, letting go, and opening up W I D E.  Meaning, you can’t be thinking small thoughts of yourself.  If you only think tiny little human thoughts, it doesn’t give enough room to let the archetype energy through . . . and it wreaks havoc on the physical body.

However, If you don’t have some sort of discipline around dealing with that intense of an energy . . . then you stop being able to properly function as a human here in the practical day-to-day world.  You could end up in the cuckoo house.

What I’m attempting to do in the middle of my own crazy . . . is surrender to the energy to easily allow it through (which makes it go from chaotic to peaceful within seconds) . . . but to ALSO ground it into this reality.  This requires that I simultaneously open and trust the energy going through me . . . BUT stay consciously aware and consciously direct the flow of the energy.

What I just described . . . the consciously channeling the archetype energy outwards . . . is an esoteric understanding of Aquarius . . . ruler of Uranus.  Uranus is currently on my Ascendant, coming in from the other side of the Veil (Pisces/12th house) into an individual person (Aries/1st house).  So . . . in a way, archetype energy is being birthed through me, the same as a baby’s soul comes through the mom and into the baby, and then she gives birth to the baby into this physical world.  Because this is Aries and Uranus . . . it could be birthing a bunch of new ideas.

I got to thinking about this earlier this morning because I had something start to switch in me.  I was feeling the “Wrathful Mother” coming through yesterday.  She was all grumpy gills at the Black Smoke (Pluto).  But having let that rage come through . . . it started clearing out blockages in my energy.  So then what I started to experience, was a deeper letting go inside of me.  I could feel myself deeper . . . and I started to bump into a reservoir of emotions and feelings.  Ones that were SO GIGANTIC . . . that I couldn’t let them through while I was holding a grudge against Mr. Black Smoke.  I couldn’t let the grudge go, until I let myself feel SUPER ANGRY about it.

When I first gently bumped into this reservoir I *remembered* it.  “Oh yes.  Now I remember this place.”  It’s where I feel and find my Neptune/Moon in my body.  It’s roughly the area of my lower spine . . . that’s a poor way to describe it, because it’s most definitely a place outside of time and space, but the doorway TO my Neptune/Moon is in that region of my body.

It’s where I have access to what I call my Heart.  Not my human heart . . . but my Big Momma Heart.  Neptune/Moon.  Compassionate Mother.

As I poked my big toe into the reservoir, I felt . . . I felt the Dark Smoke Pluto from another perspective.  I felt his . . . aloneness.  I felt his pain and hurt.  And it touched a bigger part of me . . . the Momma part of me.  I felt my bigger Heart s w E L L  HUGE.  I felt an understanding and love for what this being or archetype had gone through himself.  It’s not easy being the Devil.

So I could let it go . . . I could let the anger go that I felt towards that energy, and in doing so it gave me greater access to a deeper love and peace in me.

Then I had a clearer understanding of what I’m doing here.  That this large reservoir is related to my purpose.  That everything up to now has been preparation for me to be able to handle this larger archetype energy through and into this world.  These great.big.momma.feelers.  They are so huge that I can’t let them through while I pretend I’m a small nobody.  I can’t let them through while I’m holding onto anything that isn’t real.  I can’t let them through while I’m being self conscious.

Those things were in place in order to keep those big feelings from destroying me before I was ready . . . but I’m ready now.  So I have to let go of those limited, small thoughts in order to become what I came here to be and do.  I have to completely change my approach and perspective to life.  Let myself love big.  Let myself feel big.  Let my Big Heart run free.

Level Mom