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

A Little Bit Louder Now

I’m in a nice and fiery mood today.  A no nonsense mood.  An ‘I’ve had enough bullshit for one lifetime, please and thank you’ mood.

Not an angry mood.  Not a defensive mood.  Not an ‘I’m not putting up with other people and cutting them out of my life’ mood.

A feeling of getting fired up and clear-headed.  Shaking the sleep and cobwebs out of my head.  Pushing the sludge out and the oxygen into my veins.  Taking in a huge deep breath to help me sit up taller, fuller, and to be more alert to the world around me.

You’ve heard of the boiled frog theory, right?  The idea that if you put a frog into a pan of water and heat it up slowly enough over time, that the frog will not notice the temperature change and eventually boil to death.  It’s to illustrate how we can become conditioned to increasing dangers over long periods of time.

I feel like we’re a bunch of frogs currently boiling to death in bullshit.

I feel that people as a whole have lost their center of gravity and as a result, they are losing their effing minds.

Just because a person is entitled to their opinion, doesn’t mean they are right.  Just because a person is confident in what they are saying, doesn’t mean it’s the truth.  Just because someone has scientific research to back up their opinion, doesn’t mean it is a fact.  Just because something has the backing of a lot of people, doesn’t mean it’s a good thing.

This era of political correctness, awareness, equality, and fairness for every teeny, tiny little thing has gone completely off of the deep end.

So has this stupid, STUPID (oh noes, here comes the ‘Committee for the Rights of Stupid People’) War between Science and Religion that have people on both sides who need to be put in the corner for a time out.

Science is a method in which to observe and learn about our world and existence.  Our world and existence is far beyond and bigger than Science has had time to observe and learn about.  Science is limited and it is SMALLER than our world and existence, so do not try to shove all of existence into that small box and try to tell me that that’s all there is, because it is not.

I like and I respect science, but it is NOT the end all be all and I will most certainly not allow it to overwrite something I know to be otherwise in my heart.  Science is not a replacement for our consciousness and our feelings.  It has its purpose and it has its place, and it needs to be kept in proper perspective.

Science is just now reaching the outer edges of what I already intrinsically knew and understood as a young child before I got passed through school and was told that those things weren’t possible.  Do you know how upsetting it is to be constantly told by smug educated adults that you are wrong and to feel like you’re a bleeping idiot who doesn’t understand the world at all, only to find out decades later that you were right the whole time?

My own voice was drowned out by those that we are taught as children to respect and listen to.  And do you know what I’ve learned as an adult?  That the ones doing all of the talking and deciding for the rest of us, are mostly faking and bullshitting their way through it.  They are so good at making a case, and in sounding confident, and having “proof” to back up their story, that it feels like I have nothing of substance to offer and so I keep quiet.

How many people are out there that know better than the loudmouths running amok and are silenced for similar reasons I’ve kept quiet for so long?  People who actually have something worth saying and that people are in great need of hearing, but who feel like there is no point because they wouldn’t be heard among the masses?  Or who don’t feel like they would be taken seriously because they just know things.  Things they can’t explain and they can’t prove because science hasn’t caught up to them yet?

Things that are fundamental truths that have been lost and that need to be heard so that we can remember ourselves again and pull our shit back together?

I have fought so hard to get to this point, this point right here.  Speaking my feelings out loud.  I have spent decades finding my courage to say things out loud starting with disciplining myself to start writing in a journal every day.  Pushing myself to write things in ink that I was too scared to even allow into my head.  Years I spent just doing this, trying to overcome my fear to allow my OWN VOICE to be allowed into my OWN mind!

I used to write caveats and excuses and pages of explanations for an emotional outburst I had weeks before, saying that please if the person ever read my journal, please understand that I was just upset and that really I love you and I hope it didn’t hurt your feelings.  It took me years to stop apologizing in my journals for my seeming contradictions where I felt one way one month and then found myself writing something else that seemed to contradict it later.  Trying to understand myself, and always sorry for how I was.

Constantly pushing myself to take it to the next level.  I started going to discussion boards.  Not having the courage to even setup an account, let alone leave a comment.  When I finally did, I nearly effing died of embarrassment and humiliation.  It took me days to regain control of myself.  I felt like I had jumped out of an airplane with no parachute.  This also took years of trying and then getting too scared and retreating and then trying again.

Now look at me.  I’m blogging my little heart out.  I still fall into old habits.  I still freak the hell out and have to retreat and work really hard to regain my courage to get back on here and say something, anything.  This has not been easy for me.  What you are seeing right now is the result of a lifetime of pushing through sheer terror to be heard.  This accomplishment is my victory, my triumph in life.  The one thing in my life that I did for me and nobody else.

I still don’t always get things written out how I mean them, because fear makes the walls close in on me and my vocabulary and ability to communicate starts to diminish.  But goddammit I keep coming back and I keep risking looking like a total idiot and making mistakes and being misunderstood.  I fight really hard to not jump back on here immediately after I write a post to apologize for any number of ways my words could be misconstrued.

I reread my own posts many times afterwards until I can let go of the fear of something I said being public and people I don’t even know reading it and forming opinions about me that I have absolutely no control over no matter how unwarranted or unfair it is to me.

But yes . . . there are people out there, maybe even you reading this right now, who have things to say that do need to be heard in the world right now more than ever.  The world needs more of the *right* people speaking up.  The world needs more thoughtful people with heart to say what they know and feel inside even if it can’t be proven, even if it’s said in a shaky, timid, and insecure voice.  Even if you think no one is hearing you . . . please, find the courage to speak it anyways.  You don’t know that what you have to say, isn’t the very thing that someone needed to hear in all of the world.

cat-trying-to-be-serious

This Light Inside Of Me Is Mine. There Are Many Like It, But This One Is Mine.

Omg, where did I go?  It’s like I fell off the face of the Earth these last couple of months.  This was the first time since I started actively writing on this blog, that I skipped an entire month without posting.  Sorry, November 2014, you don’t get a place of your own in my archive list.  {A moment of silence 😦 }

Now, that’s not to say I didn’t think of you guys, I most certainly did.  This place has come to feel like a favorite hangout of mine, and my readers are like all of the cool random people that I run into while at my hangout.

But regardless of whether you’re an extrovert or introvert, highly sensitive or . . . I don’t know . . . what’s the opposite of that?  Insensitive?  {shoulder shrug},  we all have those times in our lives when things get so intense, we have to kind of withdraw from our usual activities in order to take care of business.  And so it was for me.

Are things now less intense for me?  Not even close.  But there’s no sign of it slowing down, and so I’ve shifted my focus from trying to ‘survive’ it, to pushing myself to the next level and owning it.  This isn’t about ‘why me, god?! why me!?’, it’s about, “Hey Jenn.  You have a ton of untapped potential.  But for some reason, you can’t seem to push yourself enough to be motivated to really get in there, so we’re going to do you a little favor and apply some much needed pressure and challenge so that you are forced to bring your A-Game to life.”

And bravo life, because it’s working.

This last Friday, however, I felt like the universe finally threw me a bone.  “Here’s a gold star for your insane efforts these last months, just so you don’t completely give up as we continue to dump truckloads of ‘WTF?’ on your head.”

Things have been so intense, that I had forgotten that Facebook even existed, but on Friday I suddenly felt the need to check it.  I saw that I had a new friend request from someone I knew years ago.  Plus, an added bonus, it was someone I liked.  So I accepted the request, and then suddenly she was messaging me.  She was so excited to have found me, which I have to say, there’s no feeling quite like someone being so gosh durn happy to have gotten in touch with you.

But it gets even better.

About 5 years ago, I had done an astrology reading for her.  Shortly after this, life called each of us away and we completely lost contact with each other.  Anyways, on Friday, she reminded me that I had said during the coming months of that time, she would meet the love of her life.  (I’m pretty sure I said she had the ‘potential’ of meeting the love of her life . . . I’m uber cautious like that).

The relationship she was just coming out of at the time had completely imploded in on itself, and oh so much ‘no no no no no’ was happening with it.  Now, I’m not the kind of person who will just tell people what I think they want to hear so that they don’t lose hope or give up.  In fact, I’d personally be thinking that a relationship was the last thing she needed, and if I remember correctly, she wasn’t interested herself.  But I do have a faint memory of seeing a coming transit in her chart that stood out so strong and bright, that despite the current situation feeling to the contrary. . . I shared with her what I saw.

Well . . . it turns out, that around the indicated time, she *did* meet someone.  4 1/2 years later, and they are still together and going strong.  She said she had been wanting to get ahold of me to tell me thank you for having opened her up to the possibility, that I had changed her life.

I sat in my seat stunned.  I remember my short stint of doing astrology readings for others.  I didn’t feel real confident in myself, and I didn’t feel like I was really helping anyone.  People would schedule a reading, I’d give it, and then that would be the end of it.  In fact, that basically describes my entire life.  I feel like I put so much into everything I do . . . then dead silence . . . and then that’s the end of that.

My natal Pluto on the Descendant is a real bastard, let me tell ya.  Just seeing the words I used above I can tell you that’s what is at play here.  “Dead Silence.”  No feedback.  No response.  I put myself out there over and over, and get no response or ping or reflection from others about myself.  It’s just me showing myself, and then that disappears into a black hole known as “Other”.

The Descendant is the Other in our lives.  Relationships.  It’s naturally ruled by Libra (and Venus).  Mine happens to also be ruled by Libra.  Relationships in our life are incredibly important because it’s the only way we really get to know ourselves separate from other people.  Aries, the Individual Self, is in natural opposition to Libra, the Other.  It’s the push and pull between these two, that helps us understand ourselves in relation to others and helps us further refine what we know about ourselves.

If a person were to go their whole life with no human interaction, they would be hard pressed to be able to understand who they were as an individual because there is no compare and contrast.  There is nothing to initiate the inner ‘I am this, I am not this’ dialogue.

I know that some of the point of how my natal chart is set up, is to learn to do things for me and because I want to, and not based on other’s response or lack of.  But that’s easier said than done.

Because there is nothing like putting your whole heart and soul into a project, and then when finished, all you hear is absolute silence coming from the audience, followed by the quiet shuffle as everyone gets up to leave the theater in an unenthused, quiet, and orderly fashion as if they had just been to a lecture on the benefits of using certain types of soil for the best lawn results.  It is so demoralizing.  It is incredibly hard to keep up self confidence and inspiration when you’re met with that time and time again.

Btw, that is also my Saturn in Leo in 5th, if you notice the theater verbiage and being ‘orderly’.  The words we use to describe things tell us so much more about the situation then we commonly realize.

Pluto is the Lord of the Underworld.  Death and Transformation.  It is the state a human can become even while alive.  They become zombie-like.  They lack life.  They are essentially dead.  They cannot be roused up out of their rut.  They are incapable of seeing or entertaining the idea of a world or existence outside of what they view as a cold and cruel world.  They’ve given up.  They are perpetual victims, never seeing their role in why situations in their life plays out like it does.  It’s always other people’s fault.  They become like broken records, repeating the same upset and depressing things over and over, year after year.  They will gladly take any life you have to give, but will have nothing to give in return because they don’t use what they are given to truly change their lives, only to sustain their current way of life.

That is what I face every day of my life with Pluto on the Descendant.  People who have lost their spirit, their will to live, and have let their light go out inside.  They have nothing in them to give back, and anything they try to do in order to give the appearance that they are giving back, is just dead and hollow.  Compliments don’t mean anything because they are not real or true, they are just what is done because they either want to appear as a good person or appear to have something to give so that people that are carrying light, don’t leave them.  They don’t want to be alone in the dark with no light, but they haven’t quite figured out that they need to do something to re-ignite their own light instead of trying to steal, capture, hold, possess, etc. someone else’s light as their own.

In order to re-ignite your light after you have let it go out, you have to go through an intense process of death and rebirth while alive (born again anyone?).  And if you can’t dig deep and find the strength in you to overcome that test, then you could die for real.  Or, you could live out the rest of your life as one of the walking dead who are never happy, but it’s not your fault because life is unfair, and focus all of your time promoting how hard you have it and how it never gets better, instead of putting that energy into making some real changes in your life.

So my light goes into these deep black holes, never to be seen again and never reflecting back to me the light I shine for them.  For the longest time, I have also seen myself as a black hole . . . the same as is reflected back to me by these walking dead others.  Because they have nothing to give back, and what they do is usually false or fake, I have a hard time trying to convince myself that I’m not that, without feeling deluded.

I do recognize how I can be capable of those same behaviors, especially when I get worn down enough and haven’t been taking good care of myself or enforcing boundaries between me and others like I should.  I know what it feels like to be the walking dead, because I have taken many unwilling journeys into the Underworld.

But the big difference between me and those others in my life so far, is that at some point, The Fighter . . . The Warrior in me, all of my Aries Rising, Venus, Mars, South Node . . . surfaces and I fight my way back into the light screaming like an Amazonian Banshee on Fire the entire way. (RAAAWWWWWR!)  I gain clarity.  I know who I am and who I am not.  I rise to the challenge, my swords blazing and cutting through the darkness and shadows.  I will not let the darkness put out my precious light for any reason or for any person.  I fight for my light, so that I do not become lost and self-absorbed.

There is a distinct difference between taking good care of yourself, protecting yourself, standing up for yourself . . . and only thinking about yourself and acting like you’re the only person on the planet with any problems.  One is to protect your own light from being stolen or letting it go out and becoming one of the dead . . . and the other is being one of the dead and taking light from others.

When I do get fired up and my Inner Warrior comes out, I have immense confidence and I definitely do not need anyone’s approval or feedback.  But it’s no longer enough for me to just come out guns-a-blazing and mowing down everyone in my path, I must learn how to consistently hold this clarity of my individual self, even while interacting and being completely surrounded by these walking dead.  I think ideally, without so much bloodshed.

I’m not entirely sure that I knew what I was signing up for when I came down here.  There’s a good reason we are made to forget, until we are strong enough to remember.  It’s best that I didn’t know how hard it would be.

How hard it is to climb the stairs to a center stage, knowing that you must perform with your entire heart and soul for there to be any chance of impact at all, but also knowing that you will not be given a sign or any kind of indication of how your performance was viewed or received.  Just straight up faith and belief in yourself.  Even if you’re the only one in the whole wide world who believes in you, but . . . without getting defensive or closing your heart to that whole wide world.

Although . .  as I start to let that part of me show, my heart and soul (and in new experiences of what that even means), the universe rewards me with that rare treat of hearing that I had a real impact on a person’s life.  Friday was one of those rare moments, that followed quickly on the heals of me changing how I was interacting with others in my life.  Makes me feel like Pavlov’s dog.  “You rang the bell, you get a treat.”  It freaking works, I’ll tell you what.  Never do I feel so motivated to keep pushing through the dark, than when I start hitting definite markers that point to the most direct route out of the Underworld.

So if you happen to see a great big ball of flame whizzing by, screaming like the Furies, swords-a-flying, slicing a pathway through the dark, don’t be alarmed.  It’s just Jenn on her daily commute.

 sour fruit thieves

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

Death To The Popcorn Eating Shadows!

Do you know how when you really want to do something and you’re all excited about it in your head and maybe even your stomach, and you’re living it out in your imagination and “Wooo! It’s going to be so awesome!” and you’re getting totally pumped up about doing it . . . and then you think of someone in your life that you’d *like* to share it with but based on the feeling of the response from the last 50 times you’ve asked them to do something similar . . . all of your enthusiasm deflates like a popped balloon animal?

Yeah, me too.

Or how about, when you get a burst of inspiration and all these thoughts and idea come into your head and you’re like “OMG! Why didn’t I think of this sooner?!” and you come busting through the living room, excited to share your brilliance with the world while simultaneously making a list of all the things you’re going to need to do or get in order to bring this brilliance into existence as a favor from you to everyone else . . . but it gets met with less than excited looks on people’s faces?

“Boooo!”

If you’re hard-headed like me, then you’ve probably continued to do this over and over until one day you realize that you can’t even bother to get excited about it yourself.  You no sooner think of something that makes you excited or happy, and this ‘reality trend analysis’ races ahead in your imagination and sees that it always ends up in disappointment and decides to automatically throw the kill switch before you can even get it started.

Other, less hard-headed people, figured out long ago that when it’s something that is important to you or makes you happy but others don’t approve or support it . . . that you keep that shit to yourself and don’t share it with them.  Don’t feed your joy to the killjoys!

But I’ve got a problem.  I share.  I share a lot.  I show my cards at the beginning of the hand.  I’m all “Here’s what I have!  What do you guys all have?!” which is returned with murderous looks thrown in my direction.  People take “Go Fish” way too seriously.  Sheesh.

People have more than one way of letting you know they don’t approve of something.  So someone *might* be saying out loud in words, “Oh my gosh, that is so wonderful, I’m so happy for you!” But they’re being a liar liar pants on fire and you can tell from the tone or tension in their voice or maybe their body language or maybe even just from a feeling you’re getting.  It just doesn’t feel or sound sincere to you.

You may pass it off, or just go with it because I mean, who cares you’re in a good place within yourself because obviously you have *happy* news you just shared.  But something in you picks up the insincerity at some level, and it sits there in the shadows eating popcorn watching this all unfold, rubbing it’s buttery hands together evilly because it knows one day it’s time will come.

Evil Popcorn

When it happens to you enough times and with enough people, you’ll start finding yourself avoiding those people or not wanting to share good news with them or maybe even not be excited about the news yourself.  By this point there is an accumulation of those evil buttery handed party poopers in the shadows who are whooping it up because the one has become the many and they’re starting to gain power and have a say on your attitude in life.

Popcorn Gulls

Over time, these little things can suck and drain the life right out of you.  Kids, this is what happened to grown-ups and why they are so serious about everything and boring.  It’s a disease you catch as you age.  (Gawd, I hope there are no actual kids reading my site with me and my sailor’s mouth!)

What this also brings up for me are things like *secrecy*.  Why people lie.  Why people are SO blind to their own bullshit.  Why people can become so controlling.  Why people can be easily fooled if you say one thing, but do another.

“I know you don’t want me to do this, but I really want to so I’m going to do it anyways.  I don’t want your guilt trips or lectures, so I’m going to do some jedi mind tricks on you so that you can’t see I’m doing it, but we’ll be able to continue being friends/peaceful family member/mate.”

Now, the thing is . . . it’s not that people don’t notice, but as long as nobody says anything about it out loud then everyone *pretends* it didn’t happen.  When everyone pretends it didn’t happen, it actually becomes very hard for anyone to recall it later or even remember that it happened.

If you start doing that long enough in your life and for enough things . . . you start to not notice these covert things.  You start becoming oblivious to all kinds of things going on around you.  If you go your whole life like that and then one day you ever start to unravel that shit . . .

My-Life-Grumpy-Cat-Meme

It’s like cats.  Cats are going to do what the fuck they want to do.  You can tell them no, and maybe they’ll stop doing it.  In FRONT of you.  I have heard a million stories about owners thinking they’ve tamed their cat only to walk in and catch the cat in the act.  The cat is just being true to it’s nature.  The owner is just in serious denial thinking they can control the cat.

Now you can try breaking a cat’s spirit in order to gain control over it against it’s own will and needs, to show that you are a superior being in your own mind’s eye, and continue living in your deluded world that you have total control and dominion over your environment.  But then you’re just a fucking asshole and need a good punch to the face.

No popcorn

Or.  You can make an effort to try and understand the whole reality of what’s going on in the situation and diffuse it from the root instead of fucking up your spiritual and energetic shit beyond recognition or help.

Animals don’t have agendas like “Today, I must piss off my human.”  They do things because there is a reason.  Something is causing it.  It might even be you.  It might be another family member.  It might be a health issue.  Maybe they were abused.  Maybe, it’s because a need of theirs isn’t being fulfilled. <gasp!>   There’s always a solid reason.  But if you’re totally oblivious to your environment or your own shit . . . then you’re going to keep blaming and taking it out on the animal.

So why do I do stupid things like yell out what’s in my hand and share?  Because I do not wish to be oblivious to myself or my life or to other people’s bullshit.  It initially puts me at a disadvantage because until I eventually figure out what’s in everyone else’s hand, people use my straight-forwardness to their advantage.  I get used as a scapegoat.  I am made to feel guilty and ashamed.  I’m talked down to.  I’m ridiculed, laughed at, and made fun of.  Called names.  Talked about behind my back.

But do you know what?  During all of that shit storm . . . everyone is showing me and everyone else all of their cards.  By the time I get to the last card in the last player’s hand, there isn’t anywhere for anyone to hide.  And finally everyone gets to see their own bullshit, and to be perfectly honest?  It’s ALWAYS a relief.

Because we are ALL so sick of the bullshit.  We are all becoming so sick of our own bullshit and everyone else’s, but we’re wrapped up so tight in it that we can no longer see our way out of it.  We want out, but where’s the fucking EXIT sign?

Popcorn Thief

I’ll tell you –>  Stop having tolerance for your own bullshit and get yourself cleaned up.  Which when you do that, you’ll start understanding why shit’s so messed up and how the things you do cause your own problems down the road.

Then you’ll naturally stop having tolerance for other’s bullshit and start insisting that they hold themselves to a higher standard as well.  We need to be visited by a plague of Truth instead of this widespread disease of popcorn eating shadows.

Btw, not putting down popcorn.  I love popcorn.  Especially with salt and butter.  Popcorn’s the best.

Nom Nom Popcorn

There Is A Time To Live And There Is A Time To Die

One thing about having your life flipped upside down with devastating news, is that it forces you to be present in the here and now.  All there is, all you can be sure of, is what is happening at this moment.

You know, I tried to imagine the Native Americans back hundreds of years ago all sitting around the campfire trying to plan out their 5 year and 10 year goals and it just looked ridiculous to me.  Discussions started about risk management of the buffalo herds and average rainfall from recent years and the amount of berry return they could expect in the coming years based on weather projections from their shaman.  Which then turned into arguments and name-calling and fistfights.  It was a disaster.

The Native Americans as a people, at one time, had such a genuine appreciation of life and gratitude for all they had.  They knew what needed to be done in each moment and left the rest to the Great Spirit.  They lived simply.  But they weren’t just flying blind, they were plugged into the pulse of nature.  It’s a natural rhythm that syncs up with our mind and heart.  It’s a feeling, a knowing of what time it is . . . of what needs to be done right now, and what was needed for the future was automatically calculated into that with the unseen spirit of Life.

A perfect recent personal experience with how this works, is that I felt a strong need in me to take a couple of days off.  It wasn’t your typical, oh that sounds like a good idea, it was something deep in me telling me that it needed to happen.  So I just went with it in the moment, and I used my instinct for how to go about doing it.  The night before my two scheduled days off I found out that my girl kitty was dying, and I would’ve had to take those two days off anyways . . . but because I listened to my *now* voice the week before without getting caught up in why I felt it . . . it was already taken care of.  Instead of having to focus on arranging all of that with no warning to my office, everything was already pre-arranged and I was able to 100% focus on the situation at hand.

That is living in harmony with life, even while in the modern world.

Right now everyone’s too busy thinking they know better than life and nature, what needs to be happening from moment to moment.  Not only that, but also busy telling everyone else what *they* should be doing too.  With all of this chattering at each other, how can anyone hear their own inner voice anymore?  The one that connects them to Life?  The one that sustains, nourishes, and provides everything that is needed from moment to moment?  Is it any wonder we’re all starved and empty inside?  When you go against that internal natural rhythm you purposely deny yourself nourishment from nature . . . God . . .The Mother . . . however you choose to see that which spiritually feeds us and makes all things possible in this life.

Do you not stop and think about what makes trees grow?  What makes bees buzz?  What *it* is that animates this world and brings it to life?  What makes you walk around and laugh and talk and cry?  There is this ever present hum of life that is present in all and everything we do, and we try to live life like a bunch of teenagers who think they already know everything, ignoring this very real and present provider in our current existence.

All of it is a gift.  What moves through everything and gives it the spark of life and animates this world, does NOT have to do that.  It can withdraw at any time it chooses.  Every bit of it is a gift, and we take it for granted and we stomp all over it, and ignore it.  We refuse to even acknowledge it’s existence . . . and yet it continues to give and give and give.  And we . . . continue to be like a bunch of spoiled brats who need their asses whooped.

Being alive is a gift.  Dying . . . is a part of that process.  It’s sad because we want to continue to share this life with that person or being, but things must come and go as they need to, not as we personally wish them to.

Just like I didn’t know initially why I was taking off those two days, I don’t initially know why it’s time for Raven to die or why it’s time for anyone to die . . . but there are bigger things at work than just us as humans on this planet.  Maybe Raven is a super spy on the planet Catawesomeness, and she was here on a vacation or as a favor to someone, and now her time here is up because she needs to get back to her real job at Catawesomeness.  Yes I’m sad for her to go, but that’s the nature of existence.  The natural rhythm at both the micro and macro levels.

Just because she’s going to move into a spectrum of light my human eyes can’t see, doesn’t mean she ceases to exist or that she isn’t still out doing awesome Raven things.  Because that’s not how things work.  There are whole existences and worlds that our minds have been closed to for a really long time and it’s that closed mindedness that makes us suffer.  The suffering is in response to an imagined way of how things are when we die.  Not based on truth or reality.

The grief . . . the grief is very real.  Energetically, it’s the untangling of energy from each other.  If we grip on tightly to the being dying from this world (or just leaving to do something else awesome), then it becomes more painful.  If we were to know or understand that they’re just going through a door and onto other things just like when we move or change jobs here . . . then we’d be more willing to unlock our grasp on them and free them.  Let them go.  Let them move on to their next life without pulling on them to come back when they are done here.

I had a dream a few years back.  I was in a house with a girl.  She left the room momentarily and when she did my dream became lucid . . . more real than real life.  The ghost of a girl was trying to make contact with me.  She was pleading with me.  Something that the astral plane was trying to get across the veil to the world, to us.  It was an emergency.  When the other girl returned to the room, the ghost disappeared.  I told her about it, and she said that her sister had died and it was probably her.

When I first woke up I couldn’t remember what the urgent message was from the other side of the veil.  But I suddenly remembered it this last week.  The urgency was that we’ve forgotten how to properly grieve the dead.  We’ve forgotten how to open ourselves wide to the loss in order to free them so that they may leave this world.  The astral has been bursting at the seams with the spirits of our loved ones who we won’t release or let go or forgive.  Our awareness and attention is more powerful than we realize.  Holding tight to someone, whether alive or dead . . . binds them.  It makes it harder for them to untangle their energy from you and be free to leave.  You have to release your hold on them, and they on you.

In ancient times, there used to be huge ceremonies held throughout the year where specially trained priestesses and priests would do these elaborate ceremonies in order to clear all of that out.  So if you did lose someone and you were holding onto them, this was an opportunity as a community to join together in your grief and let them all go together.  Then you had the company and support of others suffering the same and you could lean on each other for support in having to finally say goodbye or let go.  But what do we do now?  We get, what? two days to move through the whole grief process before we get back to business and continue as if nothing happened?

This neglect of this part of ourselves is what is undoing us now.  This need to hold onto things long past their time.  This need to overcome nature and be these heroes that triumph over death again and again.  It goes against natural laws.  We throw money at cancer research and call it charity and doing good . . . without understanding whether it truly is good or not.  The more we try to conquer disease and sickness, the more that shows up.  Suspicious don’t you think?  Perhaps it’s Mother Nature taking matters into her own hands?  We are truly foolish people.

We have 7+ billion people on the planet.  More than the planet can sustain.  Is this *really* being progressive?  Or is this the result of us thinking we know better than God . . . Mother Nature.  This unhealthy obsession to force and make things continue to live against their will, just because we’re too scared to let go.

We’re scared of our emotions and our feelings and of losing that which we love.  These are our shadows that we run from.  Our whole existence is now centered on a fear of dying and losing love, rather than living and experiencing love.  In an effort to cheat death, we have become the dead.  We no longer remember what it even feels like to be alive.

There is a time for us to be born . . . and there is a time for us to die.  And if we’re tuned into the natural rhythm of life, we know when those times are, and we need to allow them to happen.  Provide love, provide support for both them and their loved ones, help ease their suffering as much as possible during the transition.  But for god sakes . . . we need to let them go.

funny-teddy-bear-dog-cotton

 

When You Can Love Through Your Fear

The people I surround myself with in life, whether they are coworkers, (online) friends, acquaintances, family . . . are some of the most loving people I have ever met.

I’ve found that the most loving people, are often the most creative people I’ve ever met.  They amaze me.

I’ve found that the most creative people, are often the most sensitive people I’ve ever met.

And I’ve found that the most sensitive people . . . are often the most defensive and tend to easily close off from others or shut down on themselves.

I’ve found that closed off people, often feel misunderstood by outsiders.

I’ve found that people who feel misunderstood, often feel alone and isolated in the world.

I’ve found that the ones who feel alone and isolated, often feel a great deal of fear and insecurity.

So I’ve come to understand . . .

That the most loving people . . . are quite often the ones who feel the most alone and heartbroken about the world in which they live, and are quite often the ones who feel the most fearful and insecure.

The lovers, the dreamers, . . . the candlestick makers.

: P

Something else all of these people have in common, is getting in their own way.

Because they are some of the most creative people, they are able to come up with the most creative reasons and excuses for why they can’t do something.  All of them sound totally legit.  Totally understandable.

I’m going to shift gears here for a moment (<– look at me being all considerate and warning you).

In my own personal experiences, when a person is being closed or defensive, in that moment:

  1. They are not usually able to recognize that they are being closed or defensive.
  2. They’re unable to exercise discernment.

How this may appear in a real life situation is by denial (“I’m NOT being defensive!” or “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” or “I don’t know.”) and everything can become a black and white issue.

When you are in defense mode, you are in “prove it” mode.  This leads to using mind/logic/rational only.  Why?  Because what do you think you’re defending?  What are you protecting?

Your heart, your inner core feelers.

If your guard has gone up, you’ve put a wall between the situation and your heart (who you are at your core), in order to protect the most sensitive part of you.

(Btw, in an emergency, where you need to think with a clear head and not your feelers, this separation between head and heart occurs . . . so it’s basically a survival instinct gone amuck.  Doesn’t matter if it’s a fear of being eaten by a bear or if it’s a fear of falling in love . . . the body’s all like NOPE.)

That means your heart doesn’t get to weigh in and practice discernment regarding the truth of the situation or what you TRULY feel about it.  You’re basically running blind.

It’s the areas of your life that you tend to launch into sheer logic/rational about because it’s where/when you tend to close the iron fortress doors in order to protect your heart (and you . . . because this is the part of yourself that you identify with the most).

Are you not doing something because you are afraid of doing it, or are you not doing something because it’s not “time” for it to happen, or are you not doing something because it’s not meant to happen?

When you approach a situation with a closed/defensive stance (and there isn’t a single person who can exclude themselves from this category), you can’t tell the difference.  You need to also be connected to your feelers, your heart, your core self in order to be able to distinguish the way or decision meant for YOU specifically in any given moment.

When you don’t connect to your own feelings and take responsibility for them (whether protecting them, speaking up for them, owning them, acting on them, showing them, sharing them, etc.), then the choices you make in life become based on things that do not support and nurture your heart . . . they only support the mind.  And that is a very cold and unsatisfying life.  Nothing material will ever, ever fill that void.

So back to the peeps in my life.  I love you guys . . . like a LOT.  But you make the most insane and elaborate excuses for why you aren’t happy or why things aren’t working out for you.  It’s ALWAYS something.  Always, always, always something.  I’ve heard (and used) every single imaginable excuse in the existence of all existences.

But that’s all it is . . . an excuse.  An excuse to not challenge or face your fears.  You’re afraid.  That’s all it is.  There aren’t any real obstacles in your way, except you and your fears having tea time.

So what if the worst possible outcome happens?  So what if it doesn’t look or turn out how you thought?

I’ll tell you a little something.  When you do whatever you’re doing with a fully open heart . . . none of that matters.  It doesn’t matter even a single teeny, tiny bit.  It’s all wonderful, it’s all magical, it’s all an adventure that you GET to experience in this existence that we call life.

When you can genuinely smile and giggle, even through your tears and heartbreak . . .

That’s when you’ll know that you’re living with an open heart.

 dog spoon lobster