Everyone Has a Secret Sauce Healing Recipe

I do a lot of thinking in regards to what it means to get back into balance, to heal, to become whole once more.  It’s a different and unique pathway for each individual.  I see it as a sort of secret sauce combination of things that, ultimately, the individual has to navigate through and discover for themselves.  There is no one sure-fire way, but a mosaic of things that we find or pick up along the way via trial and error.

I see it as every soul *pings* out a unique vibration that is an energetic signature.  That it comes from deep within, from our core.  During the course of our life, it gets challenged, opposed, tested.  We we run, lose, make a mistake . . . that *ping* inside us gets a little quieter, a little harder to hear.  When we face things, win, try again . . . that *ping* inside us gets a little louder and easier to hear.

But while each person’s signature is unique, it is made up of the same ingredients as everyone else, just each of the ingredients in different quantities.  That is the ways in which we are able to relate to each other.  My cinnamon sugar is able to relate to your cinnamon sugar, and so that is a way for us to connect.  However, I may have a gallon of it while you only have a teaspoon of it and the amount I have is way too much for your liking.

But me having a gallon of cinnamon sugar is perfect for my recipe.  (I’m making myself hungry.  I will be looking at recipes after this.)  But it’s possible that I may try to reject a great deal of my cinnamon sugar in order to stay in the good graces of someone with only a teaspoon of cinnamon sugar.  Doing that will cause me to stray from my center, from being whole.

After a few decades of doing this, even in little ways here and there, we can get ourselves into a tangled mess of trying to live out some mutilated and distorted recipe version of ourselves.  That’s how simply and easily it happens.  So healing, to me, is about finding your way back to your original recipe.

So in my example, at some point and in some form, I’m going to have to remember that I tried to make my gallon of cinnamon sugar into a teaspoon and I’m going to have to add all of that cinnamon sugar back into my recipe before I am going to feel okay in that particular part of myself again.

How I go about doing that also depends on my personal recipe, and understanding for myself, what works for me.  Is it through reading?  Workshops?  Meditating?  How do I discover which ingredients in me are messed up and how do I understand whether I need to add more or have less?  Do I need more or less anger?  Do I need to be more active or do I need to lessen my schedule?  Do I need to maybe lessen my schedule at work and increase my schedule at home?

If you imagined that there were about a thousand ingredients, you can see just how personal and unique the healing process is for each individual.  Which is where I start pulling my hair out because there is an innate healer inside of me who wishes to help people along this path, but how?  How do I universally address something so personal and varied?

As much as I’d like to, I’m not able to hand everyone their personal secret sauce combination, that’s something that you have to figure out for yourself.  However I can share with you something that I do think would help everyone on their way, and that is by taking the time to truly understand yourself.

Do you like gingerbread houses because you *really* like gingerbread houses, or do you like them because your older sibling liked them?  (Seriously, what is with all of the food analogies?)  Do you love fish, but never eat it because your family never did growing up?

Those are very superficial things, but hopefully you get the gist of what I’m saying.  It’s easy to start too.  Think of something that has been weighing on you lately, stressing, worrying you.  Now, ask questions of it.  What assumptions are you making about it that maybe aren’t true?  What is the situation to you?  What are your options?  Are you really stuck?  If there’s truly nothing you can do about it (e.g. IRS is auditing you, you have to work), then what is in the way from you coming to peace with it.

Or.  If there’s nothing pressing, but you’re just feeling blah, try doing a personality test, astrology chart reading, or something that will get you to start challenging what you think you know about yourself and give it some real thought, not just autopilot answers.  Figure out what isn’t working for you and bring it into question.

Of course, the assumption here is that you’re in touch with your feelings.  If you aren’t in touch with your feelings (meaning not fully in your body, your consciousness hovers around your head, aka you *think* you’re feeling- but really you’re just thinking *about* feelings- which isn’t the same thing), then there is probably going to be a bit of a struggle to really connect to anything that you strongly relate to or identify with.

That’s a whole different blog post and if that is the case (and I think it’s more common than people realize), then definitely do some searches/research on that specifically because learning how to reconnect to your feelings (whether stemming from trauma, diseases/illness, etc.) is a straight up game changer.  I’m talking from personal experience.  Single most important thing I ever did for myself was to learn how to cry again.

But back to what I was talking about here, there’s one more thing I’d like to address in regards to this and that’s about the misnomer regarding selfishness.  I know a great deal of people who are givers and who quite frankly are not being selfish enough.  And then there are those who are completely self-absorbed in a very damaging way (e.g. narcissism) who accuse those givers of being selfish when they don’t do what they want them to.  Leading the givers to give even more than they already do and round and round it goes.

It’s something that I struggle with in myself mightily.  But time and time again, I’ve found it to be absolutely true, that if I don’t put in the time to fix and heal myself first then I’m absolutely no use to anyone else.  So if you’re a person who has a hard time doing or spending any time on something to do with you specifically, then you especially need to be doing this.

I’m telling you, getting to know and form a healthy relationship with yourself is one of the best things you could do for yourself and your loved ones.

Now . . . where’s a good chocolate pudding pie recipe?

cup_of_cat

What Believing In Self Means To Me

I’ve zeroed in on the moment it happens.  The moment in which I’m interacting with someone and I lose myself.  I need to anchor this in myself so that I can be more aware and lessen how often I do it.

When I am centered and in balance with myself, and I say something to someone from a sincere and open place, and their response sounds like I offended them in some way (here’s that moment) instead of staying solid in what I was actually meaning, feeling, and experiencing when I said whatever I did . . . I instead try to right the misunderstanding.

Which means . . . I end up focusing on their perception of what I meant regarding what I said, instead of what I actually meant.  It only takes me a few moments of trying to do this, trying to explain or understand where the disconnect happened between me and another person, before I lose sight myself of what I had really meant.

After an extended period of time, I’m so focused on how what I say may be mistook by that person or persons, that I am no longer centered in myself and balanced.  I’m actually thinking the way that they think for longer periods of time in an attempt to avoid conflict and hurt.  I start to adopt their attitude and view of life.

It weaves such a tangled and confusing web in my life that I am forced to work through in order to find myself again.  Always swearing with a fierceness and a vengeance that if I ever find my way back to myself again, that I will never, ever, ever do that to myself again.  I get so furious at myself for being such a ding-a-ling.

I’m not thinking that it’s their own darkened perception that they projected onto my words, I’m not thinking that in order for them to see what I actually meant, means they’d have to admit they were wrong as well as own their darkened perception . . . I’m not thinking any of that.  All I’m thinking is, “Oh noes!  That’s not what I meant, I’m so sorry you took it that way (as if I had any control over that) and I’ll do better in the future to communicate myself more clearly!”

I’d say that is a pretty fair example of what it means to be naïve.

What I must integrate and better understand about myself, is to stay in myself with how I know I feel and experience something.  If I said something from a pure place, and I know within myself whether I’m truly doing that or not, there’s no use in lying to myself, then I need to stay strong in that no matter how someone else responds or sees it.

I can’t let other people decide for me what it is that I meant by what I did or said.  I also cannot focus on the distorted way they saw me without risking becoming that distortion.

That more clearly illustrates what it means to me when I say, “I believe in myself.”  It means I’m not believing in other’s distortion or projections of me.  I believe in what I know to be true about me.

I’m reading through this and I can see how it seems a little one sided, like I’m always the innocent one being wronged by others.  That is not true.  I see myself in these other things too.  I started off by saying “When I am centered and in balance with myself”.  The post is describing the moment where I stray, where I lose myself.

Once I’ve gone off the rails, I then fall into the bucket of “other”.  I begin doing those less than desirable things myself.  I would say that the single hardest moment in the healing process, is the moment when you realize that to some degree, at some level . . . you yourself have done the very things that others did that hurt you.

It won’t look the same on the outside at all.  But it’s the realization that the same mechanisms are at play within yourself as well.  It is the most humbling and yet liberating thing I have ever experienced.  The truth really does set you free.

So no, I’m not blind to how these things play out in me as well, but my focus at this time is in being smarter about not going off of the rails in the first place.  The rest of it becomes irrelevant if I stay centered and balanced within myself to begin with.  (I needed to say all of that to balance the energy in the post and in my head.)

Not My Circus

True To Form Is Our Guiding Star Home

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Tale Of The Kitties And The Moon

Have you ever tried to get a cat (or any animal for that matter) to see or notice the moon in the sky?  It’s an exercise in futility.  They look at your finger, they look at the window, they may even look outside, but nothing you do can get them to see and comprehend this big white blob so plainly in the sky.  It is outside of their awareness and so to them it does not exist.

Even if they did look at it, they wouldn’t necessarily ponder it.  They wouldn’t think it was anything more than what it appeared to be.  It’s a flat light that moves across the sky.  A big fat so what?  Why are you making such a big deal out of something so ordinary?  Sometimes a flat light in the sky is just a flat light in the sky, it doesn’t always have to mean something deeper.

God, humans!  Making things so much more complex than they really are.  {kitty eye roll}

kitty rainbow

What would happen to little kitty’s head if he knew what it really was?  It would probably explode because it goes too far beyond his current comprehension.  He would have to slowly build up to that realization by starting off with something much more common and at his level.  He would have to be led slowly and patiently step by step to help his mind connect from where it is now, to where it needs to be in order for the Truth about that white light in the sky to make any kind of sense to him.

Really, his head wouldn’t explode.  He just wouldn’t believe it.  If he’s stubborn enough and not open to learning or is too afraid, he may even deny it and fight against that ideology to the end of his days.  Grumpy cat.  Hell, he might even start a war over it.  Little kitty sized tanks with little kitty sized helmets.  Setting catnip ambushes.

Catnip High

Or maybe he would tell anyone who believed differently than him, that they’re an idiot or gullible and would believe anything.  He might come to the wrong conclusion and then normalize it.  “It’s just a goddamn hole in the sky, and everybody needs to get over it!”  Maybe one day he gets curious and secretly starts investigating it and becomes one of the kitty conspiracy theorists who is weighing the alternative and less popular belief that the moon is made of cheese and is actually the Overlord of the mice who are waiting for the right time to rise up and take down the kitties.

people need me

Now imagine, as humans, watching all of this unfold.  Just sitting on the sidelines with our buckets of popcorn.  We know what it is.  We even *tried* to tell the kitties what it was.  But did they listen?  Noooo, they knew better.

Some of the kittens believe us.  They know.  They are still open to things greater and bigger than themselves and so they’re able to stretch their awareness and imagination wide enough to allow for the moon to be what it is and not try to make it less or different than what it is.  They think grown up kitties are just playing a big game and pretending to not know what the moon is.  Adult kitties are so silly and the kittens make promises to each other that they won’t be like that when they get older.

cat moon

How hard would it be for an adult kitty to convince one of us that the moon is only a flat light in the sky and nothing more?  How long would it take for the kitty to break down at our “stubbornness” and refusal to see it his way?  How long before he would start throwing insults like we’re just being close-minded and think we know it all?  Telling us we think we’re SOOOO special.  Telling us that nobody really knows the answer and therefore we’re all at the same level and playing field.  We’re all the same.  We’re all equal.  He knows just as much as us.

o.O

To us humans, the accusations and ranting wouldn’t even make sense.  You can’t argue it because it’s nothing to do with the reality of the situation.  A human baby is not any less than a human adult, but that doesn’t mean that you make the human baby apply to college and start a job right out of the womb for crying out loud.  They are not the same.  They are not equal no matter how much kitty wants them to be.  There is nothing wrong with not being equal.  That is not the fundamental issue, but how do you bridge that understanding between the humans and kitties?

Sophisticated kitty

So kitty takes our stunned ‘wtf silence’ as being right and goes around being all Superior Kitty and does a lot of meow-yodeling at the other kitties about how smart he is and how he knows better.  {human eye roll}

What if you were the only human in a community of adult kitties for your whole life?  Would it be harder for them to convince you about their perception of the moon?  Would it be harder or easier for you to see the moon for what it really was?

And let’s say you did have a spark of inspiration and you just knew . . . knew with all your heart and soul what the moon really was.  Maybe because you could sense the other humans on the sidelines watching all of this (because by this point in kitty kingdom, the kitties have gone so far off the path of Truth and are so wrapped up in their own way of seeing things that they can’t even SEE the humans anymore.  Too caught up in Kitty Drama).

jealous-cat-memes

The (now) unseen humans keep shouting out the answer, and it’s silently pinging the part in you that is human.  A part of you that you didn’t initially even know existed because the kitties never talked about this feeling you got.  So sometimes you go off to be by yourself away from the kitties so that you can become more aware of this other part of you and it’s from becoming more in-tuned with this part of you that you got this bigger understanding about the moon.

How hard would it be to even just hold onto that thought, feeling, and knowing inside of you as you went about your day to day activities fully immersed in kitty culture, and everything within it echoing their perception and understanding about the moon which was completely counter to how the other part of you knew it to be?

Day after day of hearing their way, their way, their way, their way.  Year after year.  And you don’t want to be alone . . . you love your kitty family and kitty friends and you want to connect to them, be a part of their community and life.  And so it becomes easier to pretend that it really is the way they say (even if it means to ignore the part of you that knows otherwise) because you just want to be close to them.  You just want to love them.  You just want them to know that they are loved no matter what they believe.

jesus cat

But they take their beliefs so seriously, that their ability to love is as limited as their beliefs in bigger things existing, and so they can only love in the same limited way.  If you want to feel love how they know it to be, you have to make yourself as small and limited as their beliefs allow them to see, otherwise you are invisible to them.  They start to not recognize you.  They do not believe in you.  You might as well not exist.  Just like the real Moon.

I think that would make it extra hard.  Your choice comes down to believing what isn’t real or true and them loving you and feeling like you belong, or remembering the truth and what is real and becoming invisible and being misheard and so misunderstood that you have no choice but to be alone.

But let’s step this scenario up a notch.

Let’s say that the sideline humans had an idea.  What if some of them decided to dress up like kitties and become a part of the kitty community and see if there was any way to learn the Way of the Kitty, and then try to speak the Truth to the kitties by using their own language?  The only issue is that in order to be totally convincing, you had to go through a process in which you forget that you’re not really a kitty.  It would be up to you to remember once you got fully immersed into the kitty community.  How would that look?  A human dressed as a kitty who doesn’t remember initially himself that he *isn’t* a kitty.  That sounds like the makings of a novel called, “How Kitty Ended Up In The Padded Room At the Loony Bin.”

cat dragon

How would other kitties see you and those other pseudo-kitties?  Would you be diagnosed with kitty disorders?  Would you be in kitty special education classes for sucking ass at catching mice and purring.  Would you be in trouble all of the time for disappointing your kitty parents and kitty teachers for being so difficult and stubborn?  Would you feel like a retarded kitten?  Would you feel alone?  Would you feel worthless?  Like you failed at being kitty?  Would you wonder why you were ever born at all?  Would life seem too hard and like you didn’t get it?

Would you be waiting for other kitties to see your true worth?  Would you be waiting for them to tell you that you’re not *really* a kitty, but a human pretending to be a kitty and that that’s why things don’t make sense to you.

funny-cats-decoration-live-disguised

No.  You came to help them see the Truth of the Moon.  You can’t do your job if you get hung up on not being loved and understood by them.  You have to learn how to stand on your own without validation, support, or recognition from the kitties or anything outside of you.  You’re there for something bigger than yourself.

You don’t have the time or luxury to get hung up on things that don’t really hold any value because they’re just illusions that the kitty imaginations got caught up in like a massive tangled ball of yarn.

kitty string

Don’t get caught up yourself in debating all of the kitty theories about the moon because that’s not what you’re there for.  Learn about them, yes, but don’t get caught up in them like they are the truth or real.  Never lose perspective.  Just learn about them and what they believe then learn how to align, or connect, or bridge what they believe to what is real and true.

Help build the steps between the two, but if you start to believe what they do, you may become just as stuck and limited as them.  And some of the kitties don’t want to see the Truth.  That’s none of your business.

wakup die

You’re only there to help the ones that are willing and wanting to.  Trying to convince the ones that don’t want to know the truth, is exactly the route and path to getting caught up in that ball of yarn yourself and forgetting why you’re there in the first place.

So if a kitty tries to convince you that there’s nothing special about the Moon, just remember within yourself that sometimes a flat light in the sky, is much more than just a flat light in the sky.

 snapping cats

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

In My Search For Peace

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

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

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

Just me and ghosts of geishas conversing in silence.

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

It feels like I write to a black void.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

flower power

Waking From My Own Nightmare

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

funny-cat-box-yelling-fallen

Are You Truly Done With Suffering?

There is a Truth.  A Divine Blueprint.

There are any number of ways to tell the story of the Divine Blueprint.

All considered True, as long as they retain the original structure of the Original Blueprint.

The closer it aligns to the Original, the more Pure and Whole it is.  The more it is considered Holy and Sacred.

So yes, there is a single Truth in this existence.  And there are many ways to perceive it.  Many paths to pursue it.

. . .

Anything that strays from the integrity of that Truth, is outside of what is Real.

Anything outside of what is Real, is the source of all of our pain and sorrow.

The closer you align to the Truth, to your own Original Blueprint . . . the one made specifically for you by Source itself . . . the special perspective that you were asked to hold of the One Truth . . .

That is what we know here as “healing”.

. . .

Only what is Real and True will heal you.

Only what is Real and True will fill that hole in you.

. . .

You can believe whatever you want to believe.

But if you’re still sick . . .

Unhappy . . .

In pain . . .

Confused . . .

Scared . . .

Then you are still holding onto a belief within yourself that is not true,

And you are still wounded, out of alignment with your Real Truth.

. . .

The very moment you surrender the belief you hold that is outside of what is Real . . .

You will find immediate relief from your suffering.

Immediate.

shakti_green tara

 

 

Here Comes Trouble

I had another interesting dream last night (awww Mercury in Pisces, I love you).

Within the dream, I watched as a group started to pack up a mobile museum into the back of a large pickup truck.  I don’t know whether it was the mascot or what, but there was a live horse that was a part of this group.  They had packed him into the back of the truck first . . . like he was one of the inanimate objects of the museum.

He was laying on his left side.  His legs folded up and against the side of the truck closest to me.  He had straps going across to secure him and keep him from moving around too much during the trip.  They were going to pack the rest of the things in around him.  Someone was giving him a food dish, and said that he’d also need water so he didn’t die.

During all of this, my dream became more lucid.  I didn’t understand what was going on, so I was just observing.  But something was pulling on my feelings about it.

I never stopped looking at the horse . . . he was an off white color.  I very slowly continued to approach the vehicle as I tried to understand what was bothering me.

He just laid there.  He had just let them arrange him however he needed to be without fight or struggle.

This wasn’t setting well with me.  But based on the situation and how everything appeared . . . how everyone acted . . . there was nothing wrong.  Everything was exactly right and proper.

But I had a distant memory nagging at me . . . “but where is his spirit?

I had this distant knowing or memory of horses not being like this.  That at one time horses were symbolic of being wild and running free.

Why was it going against what this reality was showing me?  Why did I keep getting glimmers of  a feeling like I wanted to cry?  Why did something not feel right about this?

I looked into the horse’s eye.  I felt a connection with the horse.  It pulled on something deep within me that I had forgotten.  The feeling of wanting to cry kept coming and going from me like breathing.

The deeper I went into the connection between me and the horse, the stronger the need to cry became.  The more a forgotten memory started to come back to me.  The more I started to become aware of something so incredibly painful inside of me that I had purposely forgotten in order to get relief from it.

But it was also something I desperately missed.  Within that pain was something that I missed with all of my heart.

His will . . . his will was broken.

My will . . . my own will was broken when I was younger.

When trying to domesticate a horse . . . they must be “broken”.  To break an animal or a person is to break their own personal will in order to do the will of another.

There’s refining someone’s will in order to fit into society and get along with others.  That’s the whole Aries –> Libra axis.  When we’re first born, we have raw personal will.  As we grow older, we learn how to refine it into something more polished and hopefully more beautiful . . . but the person should still retain something of themselves in that process.

They should still have their own personal will.  This is the energy or thing that motivates us.  It’s how we know what we want.  It’s how we go after or approach challenges.  Do we go after what we want . . . or do we let the forces around us decide for us what we’re going to do or not do?

The wilder something is . . . the harder it is to break.  There are some things that aren’t meant to be tamed or domesticated.  Being wild and free . . . is who they are.  To see them broken . . . like the horse I saw in the back of the truck . . . is almost too much for my heart to handle.

There are those who are so controlling and filled with ego, that they will go to any length to break a wild thing’s will.  To show dominance.  To have a trophy.  To feel good about themselves because they are so lacking in confidence and will themselves.

Sometimes they think it’s for the wild thing’s own good, either they break it or the world will do it.  It’s perceived as an act of love.

Let me break you . . . so that you won’t have to suffer the pain of the world breaking you.

What a tangled web human’s weave.

In my chart . . . I’m about as wild and untamed as they get.

I had such willfulness when I was younger.  To the point that I had no concept of asking for permission to do anything.  If I was playing with some toys in the house and suddenly had an image of the park flash into my mind . . . then I’d simply stand up and walk out the house and go to the park.

I can’t imagine how many heart attacks I gave my parents.  I knew what I knew, and I knew what I wanted.  What they wanted did not register into my awareness at all.  It didn’t even make sense to me.  What did my wants and needs have to do with them?

My dad is from the Appalachian mountains.  You don’t get away with shit when you’re from the Appalachian mountains.  You either do as you’re told by your parents, or your ass is grass.

My ass was frequently grass.

This comes from having to survive in very harsh conditions in the mountains.  My dad’s family is from Irish heritage.  The Irish weren’t really wanted over here.  So they were forced into the areas that nobody else was able to survive, and forced to find a way to survive.  And they did.

I come from strong stock.

But it also forced the families into living in constant survival mode.  This means everything is a life or death circumstance.  This means, when your parents tell you to go do something, you don’t sit there and whine and break down that you’re scared.  It means you suck it up and get your ass out there, or everyone may die.

So then the getting your ass whipped every time you disobey becomes understandable.  It’s to keep you from dying.  It *is* being done from a place of love.  The thing is, after a few generations . . . you no longer remember why it was done, only that it is.

So even though I didn’t grow up in those circumstances, I was raised as if I was.  But obviously, something needs to change.  This means that eventually in one of the generations, someone is going to be treated that way as a child . . . but they’re going to have to find the strength and will to overcome it and NOT break the will of their own children.

And that someone would need to have an enormous amount of will.

So . . . ta-da.

As my favorite shirt said when I was growing up, “Here comes trouble”.

All I know, is that my dad must’ve REALLY loved me.  Because that man did not back off or give up in trying to get me to understand the rules.  I would’ve been exhausted trying to raise me.

My mom’s family is more from a refined societal background.  I supposed considered more “civilized”.  But the dark side to Libra, or the sign of refined manners and all things beautiful and harmonious, is in becoming so passive that you basically check out of doing anything for yourself.

So my dad did severe disciplining, and my mom stood back and did nothing and just kind of checked out and became a victim.  Libra can also be kind of judgey.  Sit and judge the “animalstic” behavior of others, while not seeing their own part in what is playing out and not doing anything about it for themselves.

My dad always looked like the bad guy.  My mom always looked like a victim.  But if one had the ability to look at the energetic dynamics playing underneath the surface of what was being shown . . . and I did and I do . . . then you can see that my mom was equally at fault.

But our society is only interested in making judgments based on what can be seen and proven, and so until we get past such juvenile thinking . . . we will continue to have aggressors and victims and cannot progress past wars and people going hungry.

So I’m not interested in hearing that I was severely abused.  Maybe I was.  Maybe I wasn’t.  It doesn’t matter.  All I’m interested in, is stopping the bullshit from continuing past my generation.

However, I do need to recognize what happened when I was younger so that I can put myself back together and be an agent of true change in the world.

My will was broken when I was younger.  It was so severe, that I literally broke my lower back when I was around 6 or 7.

I was in Germany and sledding by myself.  The snow was so slick from all the people sledding earlier in the day, that my sled went way too fast.  In short I ended up face down in the middle of the road, paralyzed from the waist down.  And down the hill to my right was a big ass car coming, and they weren’t going to be able to see me in time.

So I closed my eyes and pulled on everything within me, and I willed myself to move.  I didn’t want to die SO BAD . . . that I literally willed my paralyzed self to move enough to get to the sidewalk.  I got out of the way in time, and the car stopped anyways to ask if I was okay.  I said I was fine.

I spent the next hours in excruciating pain crawling an inch at a time to get back to my building and up the stairs.  The whole time I was willing myself better.  By the time I got to my mom, who was thankfully at a neighbors on the first floor instead of our fourth floor, all I could manage to get out of my mouth was that I had a stomach ache.  I said I wanted to throw up.

So she gave me Pepto-Bismol and had me lay down.  That was the last I thought about my lower back, until years later as an adult, when I got a 360 degree x-ray at a chiropractor’s office and the guy’s eyes about fell out of his head.  He wanted to know when I had broken my back.  I looked, and yes . . . it was scary looking . . . but mostly because it wasn’t until then that I had understood fully what I had done all those years ago.

It had snapped, twisted a little and fused itself back together, causing a slight curve in my spine.

So will.  I haz it.  Or I did.

After that day . . . my will became less and less.  Because I was young I had a lot of energy still . . . but never quite the willfulness I had before.  I quit fighting things so much.  I quit wanting things my way.

I had been broken.  Literally.

I do believe that things happen how they’re meant to.  I needed to know life without my willfulness so that I did understand the Libra side of things.  And the only way that was going to happen, is if it was severe enough.

Once I had done what I needed to in that broken state . . . it was time for me to heal that break in me and come back to myself.

So while staring into the eyes of the horse . . . I began to remember a previous existence from when I was a younger girl.

A time when I had such spirit and a strong will to live.  A time when my spirit ran free and I believed I could do anything.

A time when I wasn’t afraid of being myself around others.

I’m returning to that part of me, but there’s a difference between now and then.

Back then, I didn’t know what it was that I had that the other’s around me lacked.  I didn’t know what set me apart from anyone else.  I didn’t know what to call the energy and joy and spunk that naturally came out of me.

But now I can see that it was will.  It was confidence.  It was an open-heartedness to life.  It was love.  It was joy and hope.  It was the essence of life itself.  A flame of life that lives within me.

After having gone without it for so long, I now know the value of what I hold inside of me.  I know how rare and precious it is in the current world, and it’s up to me to protect and guard it . . . to never let it go out in me again.

I am and have something of value.

When I’m respected and valued by others, I am more than happy to share all I have with others.

But try to take it from me by force, or keep it for your own, or treat me like I’m not worth your time . . .

Then Here Comes Trouble.

zebra kick to the face

Cliff Diving (Okay, Maybe Falling Off Of Cliffs Ungracefully)

I have to call upon so much courage in myself when trying to speak from my heart.

It feels like I’m hanging from a cliff by my fingers, and I’m trying to pull together enough courage to let go . . . one finger at a time.  I become so scared.

Is it going to hurt?

Will I be okay?

But I know it’s my path . . . to learn to speak out loud what is in my heart.

Not what is popular . . . not what is commonly accepted . . . not the influence I feel from others around me . . . but what I and I alone feel separate from the outside world.

I cannot express the terror I feel surrounding this seemingly simple act . . . speaking what I feel inside.

The humiliation I feel.

I have to do it through tears and slow breathing.  It’s like trying to breathe oxygen into a stubborn raisin that insists on folding in on itself.  A trembling raisin.

I do it because I know it’s the only way for me.  I do it because when I’m successful, I once again come alive and see everything for what it is.  I feel myself glow.  I know without a doubt that it’s my calling, even if I don’t know why it’s my calling or what I’m supposed to do with it.  I don’t care why . . . it feels too good to be doing what it feels like I was put here for.

Nothing else matters.

Even knowing that, I continue to hold onto the cliff’s edge with my fingertips.  Crying and pleading with the circumstances . . . wanting to be anywhere but hanging from that cliff.

I hang on because when I start to open my heart and see what’s in there, I become overwhelmed and scared by what I see.  Not because it’s something bad . . . but because it’s something so immense . . . because it’s something new and I don’t know what to do with it.

It doesn’t fit into anything I’ve ever seen really happen in life.  And in that moment when I’m staring straight into it, I know . . . I know I must call upon all of the strength and courage I have inside, because I have to stray from all I’ve ever known and understood about life.

I have to come to peace with letting all of my greatest fears come true as I take my first steps.

Hence the cliff crying (upgraded from floor crying).

The more steps I take, the more confident I am that I’m heading in the right direction . . . and take one more finger off of the cliff’s edge.

I don’t know . . . I guess the hardest thing for me to overcome what I see when I look deep into my heart right now, is that it’s something that I had unknowingly lost a belief in.

It’s like suddenly seeing an honest-to-goodness leprechaun running around your desk.  There’s a moment of shock that a leprechaun even exists before you can start processing what’s happening.

Ironically, I believed in leprechauns more than I believed in what I’m seeing now.

In my heart, I see and feel what can only be True Love.

It’s not like anything I’ve ever heard about or seen.  It redefines all of existence for me.  I’m barely scratching the surface of this monster thing that is appearing inside.

That’s not even the part I’m struggling with.

The part I’m struggling with is the part I didn’t know I didn’t believe in, until I started to see all of this in the last week or so.

{cliff gripping}

I didn’t believe in “soul mates” or “Twin Flames”.  I thought I did, but now if I am honest with myself, I didn’t.  I didn’t really believe there was that one person out there that was a person’s match.  I didn’t believe that there was possibly that one person that was meant for me.

I think I believed in possibilities.  Like a game of odds and chances . . . probabilities of two people matching up and being compatible.  But someone specifically destined or fated?  Another person who is actually another part of your soul?  No, I didn’t believe in that.

I now wonder how long my soul has had to wander alone, for me to have forgotten that it was ever apart of another?  To have reached a point of believing that it was only ever by itself without a pair or mate.  In order to survive . . . to cope . . . to not give up in despair.

I didn’t let myself believe it was true because it terrifies me.  It’s too much for me to dare hope.  At the soul level, I’ve wandered alone a very . . . very . . . very long time.  I’ve searched and searched and searched.  I’ve hoped and hoped and hoped.  But to actually believe it . . . that was too much for me.  That’s not real life . . . that’s some dream or fantasy.

If I were to believe it before I really found my “other” . . . the knowledge alone that I was separated from my other half and not knowing where he was or even if he was okay, would have been enough to literally kill me on the spot.  That’s how deep this pain runs.  My heart would absolutely give out on me.

So I stopped believing in my soul having another half in order to survive.  I believed myself to be independent and solo, not needing anyone else in order to be complete.

But in the spring/summer of 2012 . . . I reached a point of wholeness within myself.  I let go of my fears of being alone and I opened up inside.  Life began to glow for me.  I felt full of light.  When this happened . . . a man appeared in my life.  I knew who he was.  I knew what it meant.  I knew what was happening.  It wasn’t a guessing game for me.  It wasn’t a maybe.  It was 100%.

Fast forward to November of last year, we broke up.

I have no wish to share the details of how that all came about because that’s between me and him, but suffice to say there was a lot of confusion and hurt on both sides for us each to clean up.

I have never, ever gone through something as intense as this in all of my life.

In the hurt and confusion, I closed down and was more in the dark.  I could no longer remember any of the things I knew about us when we first met.

Since then I’ve been fighting and climbing my way out of the abyss that I had fallen down into.  Striving to reach that place of light and knowing that I had reached in 2012.

I’ve started to hit that place again . . . I call it the “Golden World”.  I flicker in and out.  The part that’s been slowing my progress and tripping me up, is the fact that when I open to that world . . . all of the information I knew about us from a couple of years ago, starts to rush back into me.

Except we’ve broken up . . . we don’t speak to each other . . . we’re not even in contact.  I don’t know if we ever will again.

That’s where things start to slide sideways for me.

Because of my subconscious belief that I had no “other”, the knowing of who he was only went skin deep with me.  I hadn’t let it sink all of the way in . . . down to my deep rooted beliefs.  It was very superficial . . . Gemini-like.  I didn’t fully believe with my whole being that he was my partner.  I hadn’t surrendered to the reality of who he is to me.

Because of the wound.  The deep, deep wound of having been separated from him in the first place.  I was scared to let the relationship be true, to be real . . . because the reality was too much for me to handle.  Again my heart . . . I can feel it in my physical heart.  It sometimes stumbles and pounds weird in my chest from the struggle in me regarding me and my ex.

I’ve never had anything close to this happen in my life with another person before.

But there’s nothing I can do about the relationship.  But I don’t want to die . . . I want to live.  So I tried to let him go.  Let him go his own way and live his own life.  Except, I tried to do it by forgetting him, and all that did was keep me closed.  I wasn’t able to recover or heal from the breakup while I did that.

So instead, I decided to open up to what it was I really feeling inside.  Regardless of circumstances beyond my control . . . regardless of how it may appear to the rest of the world . . . what was it that I was feeling, what was it that I was trying to cover-up or hide in myself?

When everything that is false is burned away . . . what is left?

And without fail . . . when I open back up, when I come back to life . . . so does all of my love for him.  So does my memory of him.  I remember him again.  I know he is my one . . . my penguin.  My mate.  My other half.

But instead of falling apart because of our separation and not knowing if we’ll even ever speak again . . . I surrender fully to the knowing and understanding of who he is to my soul . . . and that brings me solace.  It brings me peace . . . because I know he exists.  He’s out there somewhere.  I know his energy signature.  I feel him with me the same as when he was here in person.

Whenever I start to panic about him being so far away physically . . . or the very real possibility that I’ll never hear or see him again . . . I have to shift to a soul perspective.  From there . . . I can feel him . . . I feel joy in my being . . . I feel a love for life again.  I know that things are okay even if they don’t look like it on the outside.

In that way . . . I’m able to let him go.  I’m able to still openly feel my feelings of love for him instead of hide, repress, or pretend like they aren’t there and in doing so having to hide and repress a large part of who I am.  They are there and they will always be there in a very, very big way for me.

Even though I am very skilled in being able to distinguish very subtle changes, shifts, and differences in even the most intricate energy . . . I am unable to distinguish my own heart energy from him and my love for him.  As far as my soul is concerned . . . he *is* my heart.

I am a free spirit . . . and so is my heart.  My heart is free to be and to do whatever he chooses, I will not stand in his way.

As long as I keep surrendering to spirit and have faith in life and that things are as they are meant to be . . . I can stay in a place of love, joy, and happiness regardless of circumstances.

I’ve found my heart . . . it’s not what I expected . . . but I’m very happy to know of its existence.  I’m very happy to know that I can connect to it whenever I want to energetically . . . and for me, that is oftentimes more real than this physical life (especially while Sun is in Pisces and Jupiter in Cancer).

This is still somewhat of a shock to me . . . it’s taking a lot of time to integrate and accept and let it seep deeper into my understanding of reality.  The more it does, the more love and peace I feel for life overall . . . and the more I am able to surrender and allow life to be as it is.  The more confident I am that I am finding my way.  The more things make sense to me again . . . even if they don’t really make sense in a conventional way.

Okay . . . that’s all of the heart sharing I can handle for now.

Quan Yin