Sunday, September 8, 2013
Monday, February 4, 2013
Minor miracles (and I do mean minor)
Somewhere around 2008, life got shitty. And I mean really shitty. That is saying a lot coming from me, an orphan. An orphan who learned to take the crumbs and be happy in this great big world of contrast. Always, and I mean ALWAYS have I had a sense of appreciation and gratitude for the smallest stuff. For I knew, what it meant to not have anything in terms of love and material things. In fact, I would call it negative zero point for it wasn't just the absence of love but it was negative love in the form of emotional abuse. And I also know that this was chosen by me and my ever enlightened oversoul, thanks a lot. I also recognize that there is always, from my perspective, experiences that are worse than mine. Like homelessness, starvation, sexual abuse or the death your child. I don't know how people ever overcome/transmute those experiences and I bow to them.
You know, there are pros and cons to everything in this world. Yes, I am permanently scarred with a sense of gratitude. On the down side though, I would take whatever crumbs I got from people and turn it into a good thing. Meaning, you could treat me rather badly but if I found something, no matter how small that felt I good, I could focus on that. Which meant selling myself into slavery and emotional manipulation just to get whatever small amount of love I could get. Nuff said.
So on to the minor miracles. After developing a very firm connection to my divinity, it somehow disappeared. I was cut off. All I remember that is somewhere in 2008, life changed for me. Where I had played and enjoyed synchronicities, they disappeared. Wah. This made me feel loved and cared for. I don't know where, when or how but my spiritual woo woo-ness had vanished and what I was left with was challenge after challenge after challenge.
This is why I am writing this, to acknowledge the return of some minor miracles. Nothing huge but my life has been so devoid of "good" things that I will take anything that isn't a nightmare to deal with. So here is my tiny list of tiny things:
I was in the middle of a boring, boring on-line class which I had to take. (Did I mention boring). excruciating. It was clear in the beginning that if you didn't complete it in one 2 hour sitting that you would have to start it over. After about a hour, the course quit. I wasn't sure if I did it because I had several screens open at once, going back and forth between the course and work obligations. But it just ended and there was no way around it but to start over. It was definitely the doomsday of boredom for me in terms of having just wasted a hour and having to start all over. I decided to call the mothership of the class and report the problem. Turns out, this has happened before and I got to bypass the rest of the class and just take the test. So, I saved a hour. This, ladies and gentlemen was a minor miracle.
Do you remember how easy it was to manifest parking spaces? I miss that. I really miss it and feel like just another muggle navigating the parking lot with no good parking space wand. It had been so long, that I just forgot I just to be able to do this. WELL! I was just in a mall parking lot and it was very cold so a spot close to the door would enable me to leave my coat in the car so I didn't run around shocking myself all day when I touch metal. The fur on the coat lends itself perfectly to static electricity. I was thinking about how I used to be able to manifest a really good parking spot and right before my eyes, I got it. No waiting or driving around and no fighting with someone else who spotted it after I did and somehow convinced themselves that it was theirs. Minor miracle. In a sea of crap-ola, this felt good.
Ok, I said it was a tiny list. There may be more but non come to mind. In terms of bigger things, yes, I have been hard at work transforming challenges. But, these are not the fun, easy, look what I found freebies that come from no effort. I'm just going to have to end it with 2 minor miracles and add to my list as I notice them happening. And BELIEVE ME, I will notice.
Post note, 5 seconds later: I knew there was one more. A main water line broke and it was said that the entire town was without water for a day or two. Mine, however, did not break. I always had water. I noticed a slight reduction in water pressure when they said it broke. That was all. It was so bad the village was giving out free water. People couldn't flush their toilets! I, however, had a fine shower the morning it broke with no worry whatsoever of having to show up at work all stinky.
You know, there are pros and cons to everything in this world. Yes, I am permanently scarred with a sense of gratitude. On the down side though, I would take whatever crumbs I got from people and turn it into a good thing. Meaning, you could treat me rather badly but if I found something, no matter how small that felt I good, I could focus on that. Which meant selling myself into slavery and emotional manipulation just to get whatever small amount of love I could get. Nuff said.
So on to the minor miracles. After developing a very firm connection to my divinity, it somehow disappeared. I was cut off. All I remember that is somewhere in 2008, life changed for me. Where I had played and enjoyed synchronicities, they disappeared. Wah. This made me feel loved and cared for. I don't know where, when or how but my spiritual woo woo-ness had vanished and what I was left with was challenge after challenge after challenge.
This is why I am writing this, to acknowledge the return of some minor miracles. Nothing huge but my life has been so devoid of "good" things that I will take anything that isn't a nightmare to deal with. So here is my tiny list of tiny things:
I was in the middle of a boring, boring on-line class which I had to take. (Did I mention boring). excruciating. It was clear in the beginning that if you didn't complete it in one 2 hour sitting that you would have to start it over. After about a hour, the course quit. I wasn't sure if I did it because I had several screens open at once, going back and forth between the course and work obligations. But it just ended and there was no way around it but to start over. It was definitely the doomsday of boredom for me in terms of having just wasted a hour and having to start all over. I decided to call the mothership of the class and report the problem. Turns out, this has happened before and I got to bypass the rest of the class and just take the test. So, I saved a hour. This, ladies and gentlemen was a minor miracle.
Do you remember how easy it was to manifest parking spaces? I miss that. I really miss it and feel like just another muggle navigating the parking lot with no good parking space wand. It had been so long, that I just forgot I just to be able to do this. WELL! I was just in a mall parking lot and it was very cold so a spot close to the door would enable me to leave my coat in the car so I didn't run around shocking myself all day when I touch metal. The fur on the coat lends itself perfectly to static electricity. I was thinking about how I used to be able to manifest a really good parking spot and right before my eyes, I got it. No waiting or driving around and no fighting with someone else who spotted it after I did and somehow convinced themselves that it was theirs. Minor miracle. In a sea of crap-ola, this felt good.
Ok, I said it was a tiny list. There may be more but non come to mind. In terms of bigger things, yes, I have been hard at work transforming challenges. But, these are not the fun, easy, look what I found freebies that come from no effort. I'm just going to have to end it with 2 minor miracles and add to my list as I notice them happening. And BELIEVE ME, I will notice.
Post note, 5 seconds later: I knew there was one more. A main water line broke and it was said that the entire town was without water for a day or two. Mine, however, did not break. I always had water. I noticed a slight reduction in water pressure when they said it broke. That was all. It was so bad the village was giving out free water. People couldn't flush their toilets! I, however, had a fine shower the morning it broke with no worry whatsoever of having to show up at work all stinky.
Minding the gap
Today, I discovered turkey bacon. I have lived for fifty years and I do not think I have every eaten it. It was good in a "I feel better than if I had eaten pig bacon" sort of way. I got the tip from the television show "The Biggest Loser". Never thought I needed turkey bacon in my life but here it is.
Life is so silly in this way. Of all the things to think about in this world, turkey bacon is on my list. It is such a minute tiny little piece that makes up this whole spectrum of mind blowing universal intelligence. I mean, how defined and small can one get but to bring it all down to a focus on turkey bacon.
When you think about earth being the most densest place in the universe-furthest away from source in its submergence into duality, separation and forgetfulness. The 3-D consciousness, I would call this turkey bacon. Then there is 5-D consciousness, feeling the connection between all, that we all come from the same source and are essentially the same being where competition and judgement do not exist. And I am seeing that the trick is the gap in between. Most running the earth program will not be able to traverse from 3-D to 5-D and will fall into the choice of the gap in consciousness and levels of awareness. I see this as the metaphor of the warning "Mind the Gap" on the London underground train station. To mind the gap-taken from Wiki : "Mind the gap" is a warning to train passengers to take caution while crossing the gap between the train door and the station platform. It was introduced in 1969 on the London Underground.
The trick is to be able to see and enjoy all levels. Awareness is like an accordion that has unlimited amounts of folded layers within in. You can flex armstrong it forever, just keep pulling and expanding. If you are running the mass program then the accordion has a lock on it so it only reveals a small amount of the folds, limiting one to that same old beautiful polka that you hear over and over again at weddings. Love it. Love that polka as people go round and round the dance floor doing the same old moves they did after WW II. But, to enjoy that polka and also be able to bust out some rap-to not get stuck, to enjoy all levels.
It is so focused here on earth. Turkey bacon does matter. It is a cog in the wheel of the universe. It just seems so silly and miraculous at the same time. I can write about focused things such as what I ate for breakfast or I can write about levels of consciousness. OR, I can connect them. To scale that accordion from turkey bacon to more expanded levels of awareness. Seeing the bigger picture; living on earth whilst bringing in more of my spirit's perspective.
Of all the things, TURKEY BACON.
Life is so silly in this way. Of all the things to think about in this world, turkey bacon is on my list. It is such a minute tiny little piece that makes up this whole spectrum of mind blowing universal intelligence. I mean, how defined and small can one get but to bring it all down to a focus on turkey bacon.
When you think about earth being the most densest place in the universe-furthest away from source in its submergence into duality, separation and forgetfulness. The 3-D consciousness, I would call this turkey bacon. Then there is 5-D consciousness, feeling the connection between all, that we all come from the same source and are essentially the same being where competition and judgement do not exist. And I am seeing that the trick is the gap in between. Most running the earth program will not be able to traverse from 3-D to 5-D and will fall into the choice of the gap in consciousness and levels of awareness. I see this as the metaphor of the warning "Mind the Gap" on the London underground train station. To mind the gap-taken from Wiki : "Mind the gap" is a warning to train passengers to take caution while crossing the gap between the train door and the station platform. It was introduced in 1969 on the London Underground.
The trick is to be able to see and enjoy all levels. Awareness is like an accordion that has unlimited amounts of folded layers within in. You can flex armstrong it forever, just keep pulling and expanding. If you are running the mass program then the accordion has a lock on it so it only reveals a small amount of the folds, limiting one to that same old beautiful polka that you hear over and over again at weddings. Love it. Love that polka as people go round and round the dance floor doing the same old moves they did after WW II. But, to enjoy that polka and also be able to bust out some rap-to not get stuck, to enjoy all levels.
It is so focused here on earth. Turkey bacon does matter. It is a cog in the wheel of the universe. It just seems so silly and miraculous at the same time. I can write about focused things such as what I ate for breakfast or I can write about levels of consciousness. OR, I can connect them. To scale that accordion from turkey bacon to more expanded levels of awareness. Seeing the bigger picture; living on earth whilst bringing in more of my spirit's perspective.
Of all the things, TURKEY BACON.
Saturday, February 2, 2013
The tale of two mothers: the mother load.
Everything has been coming up "mother" lately. I thought I was through with "mommy, don't leave me stuff" but there seems to be more stuff coming up for release. Not so much in a painful way but more of a recognition for release- if that makes any sense.
I had two "mothers" and both died in 2012. Let me explain. My 18 year old biological mother was pregnant with me when she married a man who was not my father. When I was one year old, I was given or taken (or a combination of both) to this man's mother, along with my 6 week old half sister, to raise. This woman was emotionally abusive and I was a modern day Cinderella (no prince, no fairy godmother, no dress). I did, however, have a lot of cats.
I had made my peace with my only mother of memory several years ago. The relationship was almost non existent and was only maintained by guilt. So, I consciously ended it. It felt good. There had not been contact for around 3 or 4 years when she died early in 2012. I attended the funeral and went as an adult who had made peace with this part of her life. It was very healing for me. I had trusted myself to end the relationship and it was the right decision for me.
A year before the death of the woman who raised me, my sister found our biological mother. She had been searching all her adult life for her and found her. She had died nine months earlier in July, 2010.
People losing their mothers has come into my experience of late. I know what it must be like to be loved so completely by a mother because that is how I feel about my own children. Not only did I miss out on the experience of unconditional mother love but what I got was even worse. Lack of love was nothing compared to abuse piled on top of lack of love and support. I would have just taken the no love and ran with it instead of the one-two punch.
So, I lost a mother for two years in a row. Even though I had cut ties with one and the other one, I had no conscious memory, it was a loss. What has come up for me of late has been a recognition of all that I took on. The choice to start my life out this way was a very difficult experience. I mourned the fact that I never experienced what it feels like to be loved No wonder I poured all of my energy into looking for someone to love me. I now know that the love I so desperately sought, I can give to myself. Still, what it must feel like to be so completely loved.
I bought my first cast iron skillet. When I seasoned it, it reminded me of the pans my grandmother-mother used. She used cast iron all of the time. It occurred to me she never taught me one thing about cooking. Nothing and she was a proficient cook. Not in a gourmet kind of way but a "country" way where everything was fried. One of the few skills she had and she never brought my sister and I into the kitchen to help with dinner. I am looking at this cast iron skillet and I can see her pans on her stove cooking fried potatoes. Today, I am reading up on cast iron because I had no knowledge of using it for cooking.
I was watching a you tube presentation on seasoning cast iron and the presenter says "welcome to love starts in the kitchen." There is this connection between our mothers and food. Now as an adult, it is up to me to love myself through preparing healthy meals for myself. I can nurture and love myself this way.
Since the first of the year, I have made a conscious effort to change my diet. I think there is a link here between handing over the reins to myself for being my own mother and changing the food imprint I received from childhood. I have been nurturing myself with good organic live food. On the one hand, food is not love but it can be. There is immense love in food in that it nourishes our bodies. Loving myself now includes starting in the kitchen.
I had two "mothers" and both died in 2012. Let me explain. My 18 year old biological mother was pregnant with me when she married a man who was not my father. When I was one year old, I was given or taken (or a combination of both) to this man's mother, along with my 6 week old half sister, to raise. This woman was emotionally abusive and I was a modern day Cinderella (no prince, no fairy godmother, no dress). I did, however, have a lot of cats.
I had made my peace with my only mother of memory several years ago. The relationship was almost non existent and was only maintained by guilt. So, I consciously ended it. It felt good. There had not been contact for around 3 or 4 years when she died early in 2012. I attended the funeral and went as an adult who had made peace with this part of her life. It was very healing for me. I had trusted myself to end the relationship and it was the right decision for me.
A year before the death of the woman who raised me, my sister found our biological mother. She had been searching all her adult life for her and found her. She had died nine months earlier in July, 2010.
People losing their mothers has come into my experience of late. I know what it must be like to be loved so completely by a mother because that is how I feel about my own children. Not only did I miss out on the experience of unconditional mother love but what I got was even worse. Lack of love was nothing compared to abuse piled on top of lack of love and support. I would have just taken the no love and ran with it instead of the one-two punch.
So, I lost a mother for two years in a row. Even though I had cut ties with one and the other one, I had no conscious memory, it was a loss. What has come up for me of late has been a recognition of all that I took on. The choice to start my life out this way was a very difficult experience. I mourned the fact that I never experienced what it feels like to be loved No wonder I poured all of my energy into looking for someone to love me. I now know that the love I so desperately sought, I can give to myself. Still, what it must feel like to be so completely loved.
I bought my first cast iron skillet. When I seasoned it, it reminded me of the pans my grandmother-mother used. She used cast iron all of the time. It occurred to me she never taught me one thing about cooking. Nothing and she was a proficient cook. Not in a gourmet kind of way but a "country" way where everything was fried. One of the few skills she had and she never brought my sister and I into the kitchen to help with dinner. I am looking at this cast iron skillet and I can see her pans on her stove cooking fried potatoes. Today, I am reading up on cast iron because I had no knowledge of using it for cooking.
I was watching a you tube presentation on seasoning cast iron and the presenter says "welcome to love starts in the kitchen." There is this connection between our mothers and food. Now as an adult, it is up to me to love myself through preparing healthy meals for myself. I can nurture and love myself this way.
Since the first of the year, I have made a conscious effort to change my diet. I think there is a link here between handing over the reins to myself for being my own mother and changing the food imprint I received from childhood. I have been nurturing myself with good organic live food. On the one hand, food is not love but it can be. There is immense love in food in that it nourishes our bodies. Loving myself now includes starting in the kitchen.
Life as Outcast
Since I can remember, I have been outcast. Physically there is no reason for this as I look "normal" having no disabilities or other outcast attributes. I have always been attractive enough which usually allows more easily for social acceptance. I have more compassion than most anyone I have ever come across. This is not the martyr fake out compassion which is in ample supply. I probably relied on my ability to connect with others through compassion because it was the way to be accepted. When you give others what they need, then they allow you in. Down side is this type of relationship is usually one sided and they cannot get enough to drink at the well and will drink until the well is dry.
I was born outcast. Childhood was difficult in that I, as most kids, wanted friends. While I was never without friends, I had to work at it. No one was beating down my door. I gave a lot in my relationships and was paid back in a few close relationships. Always had a boyfriend containing same imbalance of over giving.
I am odd or weird but not in a way one can name. My consciousness has never been the same as the mass consciousness. How I view the world is different than most. Plus, I have this thing which I do called honestly and it takes people by surprise. I have the :awesome" ability to go to the heart of what someone is talking about and say it, out loud. Most are hiding things from themselves, which I find out later by their reactions. A simple rephrasing of what someone has said will bring to light a denial. Now, mind you, this is not my agenda. My agenda has been to connect. I am not trying to do this. In fact, I have tried to rein it in as I do not really care to be a denial breaker. Again, I DO NOT CARE. Live your life, it is none of my business.
The most joyful experience in life was that of being a mother. Not the bath giving, feeding and back breaking part, but the nurturing and connection part. My children love me. My daughter is weirder than I -pure indigo-and surrounded herself with other indigos. She was born in 1989 and a hey year for the indigo nation. My son is weird with that of his high level of intelligence. Both kids recognized how different I was than the other mothers and as they aged, grew proud of my differentness. The other moms didn't pan out, so to speak. Their friends noticed too and extended their approval.
I have never truly been accepted. People do not "get" me. And, quite frankly, most other people bore me. Ugggggg, really?, blah blah blah. People, in general, love to talk about themselves but rarely ask me about myself. If they do, they do not mean it and tire of me quickly. And god forbid I throw in some insight into their personal world by getting real and inadvertently helping them see themselves more clearly. Jesus. Can't take me anywhere.
My mind is quick and clear. I see things that others cannot but I do not realize it until it happens. Would I trade in this for the soup of regular people. Not on your life. It is me and I like who I am, disconnect and all. As far as I am concerned, I am good to go. It is about acceptance of who I am and of being more of who I am. I have been fighting me for-ever, mostly unconsciously. Fitting in under false pretenses or a "wolf in sheep's clothing". For, I am anything but a sheep. This does not make me better or worse it just IS. No longer am I tricked into thinking I am broken because others do not understand or I am 10 steps ahead of them. Now, I have learned to bridge the distance if needed. Like at work when I need to get everybody on board to solve a problem. BTW, superiors do not take kindly to noticing their own getting up to speed gap.
Bottom line is I have made great effort to connect to others. I can do it but is is one-sided and is based on me coming to them. Well, fuck that. It is not satisfying to be stepping down so I might as well just entertain myself. And if somehow you are drawn into my energy, then be ready for a treat you won't get with your regular friends. I'll just say goodbye in advance.
I will end with one of my favorite Story Waters lines: This is me, unabashedly me. Love me or GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE.
I was born outcast. Childhood was difficult in that I, as most kids, wanted friends. While I was never without friends, I had to work at it. No one was beating down my door. I gave a lot in my relationships and was paid back in a few close relationships. Always had a boyfriend containing same imbalance of over giving.
I am odd or weird but not in a way one can name. My consciousness has never been the same as the mass consciousness. How I view the world is different than most. Plus, I have this thing which I do called honestly and it takes people by surprise. I have the :awesome" ability to go to the heart of what someone is talking about and say it, out loud. Most are hiding things from themselves, which I find out later by their reactions. A simple rephrasing of what someone has said will bring to light a denial. Now, mind you, this is not my agenda. My agenda has been to connect. I am not trying to do this. In fact, I have tried to rein it in as I do not really care to be a denial breaker. Again, I DO NOT CARE. Live your life, it is none of my business.
The most joyful experience in life was that of being a mother. Not the bath giving, feeding and back breaking part, but the nurturing and connection part. My children love me. My daughter is weirder than I -pure indigo-and surrounded herself with other indigos. She was born in 1989 and a hey year for the indigo nation. My son is weird with that of his high level of intelligence. Both kids recognized how different I was than the other mothers and as they aged, grew proud of my differentness. The other moms didn't pan out, so to speak. Their friends noticed too and extended their approval.
I have never truly been accepted. People do not "get" me. And, quite frankly, most other people bore me. Ugggggg, really?, blah blah blah. People, in general, love to talk about themselves but rarely ask me about myself. If they do, they do not mean it and tire of me quickly. And god forbid I throw in some insight into their personal world by getting real and inadvertently helping them see themselves more clearly. Jesus. Can't take me anywhere.
My mind is quick and clear. I see things that others cannot but I do not realize it until it happens. Would I trade in this for the soup of regular people. Not on your life. It is me and I like who I am, disconnect and all. As far as I am concerned, I am good to go. It is about acceptance of who I am and of being more of who I am. I have been fighting me for-ever, mostly unconsciously. Fitting in under false pretenses or a "wolf in sheep's clothing". For, I am anything but a sheep. This does not make me better or worse it just IS. No longer am I tricked into thinking I am broken because others do not understand or I am 10 steps ahead of them. Now, I have learned to bridge the distance if needed. Like at work when I need to get everybody on board to solve a problem. BTW, superiors do not take kindly to noticing their own getting up to speed gap.
Bottom line is I have made great effort to connect to others. I can do it but is is one-sided and is based on me coming to them. Well, fuck that. It is not satisfying to be stepping down so I might as well just entertain myself. And if somehow you are drawn into my energy, then be ready for a treat you won't get with your regular friends. I'll just say goodbye in advance.
I will end with one of my favorite Story Waters lines: This is me, unabashedly me. Love me or GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY LIFE.
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Ruby Slippers
Found myself thinking about the movie Wizard of Oz where The Wicked Witch of the West writes"Surrender Dorothy" in the sky with broomstick smoke. Dorothy and her 3 companions, Scarecrow, Tin Man, and Lion have just had a spa day in the Emerald City when the mean and scary witch shows up and ruins it all. Or does she? Because of the Wicked Witch of the West, Dorothy is forced to face her fears.
I couldn't help thinking about how this story tells my story. I, too was unhappy with my life and ended up on an unexpected journey. During my journey I have met my thoughts (brains), heart (feelings), and fears (courage), especially my fears. Fear comes in all shapes and sizes. Our biggest fear is said to be that of death. I think I am pretty good on that one. Sometimes, it feels like it would be a relief actually. The fear I have associated with death is that of pain. I do not want to die a painful death. There is a point though where pain will make you pass out so there is a threshold to it. I will not be controlled by the fear of death.
Survival fears. These are strong within me and I think probably mostly everyone. They are biologically programmed into the DNA. It is difficult to break this encoding. We are programmed for the flight or flight response. This is tied into the fear of death. Survival fears come from all kinds of sources. Not being able to financially support myself is a survival fear. I may not die but be made to suffer in a life due to lack. Food and housing are basics we all need. Fear of the loss of love does not concern me. I have lost all of the important people whom I have loved.
One of my deepest fears is that of not having a say in my life. Not being able to manifest my desires. I was raised in near poverty and I felt stuck as a child. No matter what I did, I was unable to change my circumstances. This was my birth choice. I chose this for a reason and it was very real. I struggled with being able to accept my circumstances but that never stuck, emotionally. I could not free myself from judging myself about not having money, a house, clothes, etc. I saw that in order to be popular in school, these things mattered and people judged you for your economic status. I also saw that money brought opportunity and those with money, had it easier. I judged back.
I don't think I ever dealt with the pain of being poor as a child. After college, my circumstances did change. I married and we both had professional jobs and good incomes. My income continued to increase and I lived a comfortable life. Fast forward to now, where I have a home in foreclosure. It is bringing up all of these fears which I thought I put behind me. It is now my opportunity to face these old buried fears and judgements. The judgement that my economic circumstance is tied to who I am. I am god no matter where I live. Am I gong to believe it that I do not create my reality? The tricky part is believing that I am creating my reality when it is something I do not want-on the human level. On the spirit level, there is great wisdom in my choosing but I have to trust that I know what I am doing. Yes, I do create my reality. What is in my reality is for a reason and it is showing me something. I think not being able to change my reality is the belief that I cannot. I am creating it even though it is what I perceive as a crappy reality. There is a reason for my crappy reality. There is a fear here. The fear is I am not creating. I accept that i am creating it no matter what. acceptance of my birth choice plays a part in this too. i accept my birth choice of being poor but it does not mean that I have to remain poor. I know better now.
Fear of slavery. Of being controlled by someone else or my circumstance. I am a sovereign being and it is time i released the fear of slavery. Of being controlled by someone else just to get your human needs met. or emotional needs. that is slavery. giving someone what they want because you have to - to survive. this is difficult for me to accept. that we chose slavery for a reason. I have been a slave in this lifetime. giving parts of myself away for love when all the love i need is on the inside.
One of my deepest fears is that of not having a say in my life. Not being able to manifest my desires. I was raised in near poverty and I felt stuck as a child. No matter what I did, I was unable to change my circumstances. This was my birth choice. I chose this for a reason and it was very real. I struggled with being able to accept my circumstances but that never stuck, emotionally. I could not free myself from judging myself about not having money, a house, clothes, etc. I saw that in order to be popular in school, these things mattered and people judged you for your economic status. I also saw that money brought opportunity and those with money, had it easier. I judged back.
I don't think I ever dealt with the pain of being poor as a child. After college, my circumstances did change. I married and we both had professional jobs and good incomes. My income continued to increase and I lived a comfortable life. Fast forward to now, where I have a home in foreclosure. It is bringing up all of these fears which I thought I put behind me. It is now my opportunity to face these old buried fears and judgements. The judgement that my economic circumstance is tied to who I am. I am god no matter where I live. Am I gong to believe it that I do not create my reality? The tricky part is believing that I am creating my reality when it is something I do not want-on the human level. On the spirit level, there is great wisdom in my choosing but I have to trust that I know what I am doing. Yes, I do create my reality. What is in my reality is for a reason and it is showing me something. I think not being able to change my reality is the belief that I cannot. I am creating it even though it is what I perceive as a crappy reality. There is a reason for my crappy reality. There is a fear here. The fear is I am not creating. I accept that i am creating it no matter what. acceptance of my birth choice plays a part in this too. i accept my birth choice of being poor but it does not mean that I have to remain poor. I know better now.
Fear of slavery. Of being controlled by someone else or my circumstance. I am a sovereign being and it is time i released the fear of slavery. Of being controlled by someone else just to get your human needs met. or emotional needs. that is slavery. giving someone what they want because you have to - to survive. this is difficult for me to accept. that we chose slavery for a reason. I have been a slave in this lifetime. giving parts of myself away for love when all the love i need is on the inside.
and I see Dorothy in her ruby slippers and being told "You had the power all the time". The slippers were the keys to her return to home. she had them with her all along. And this rang true to me in that I felt I have had the power all along to choose my destiny. That we all carry that within us-that which we seek is inside of us. But how to find that which we seek is generally by looking on the outside and thus the journey. Our lives are mirrors and everything from the inside is reflected to us on the outside in our experiences.
I truly feel I am ready for this part of my journey to end. I have explored my thoughts, feelings and fears and quite frankly have seen enough. It is time to leave Oz
Fear, the guardian
As I was sitting on my couch, writing in my journal, I was lead down a path where I was able to feel and release some stored shame from childhood. When we are emotionally wounded and unable to process the pain at the time, we store it in our bodies. It is walled off until we are able to process it. Oftentimes it is our fears which are guarding wounds. The fears are saying "don't go here" it is painful. For to release a wound, is to go into a wound and re-feel the trauma and pain we were unable to feel at the time. Wounds which are laid down in childhood are waiting for us to grow into adults so we will be better able to handle the experience of feeling and dealing with the experience. As adults, we can see things from a bigger and/or wider perspective. For example, we are able to see our parents as humans who make mistakes and have their own wounds. As children, we are sponges who just soak up whatever is in our environments.
Especially me. I am a human emotional sponge. I am an empath which is having the experience of feeling everyone else's emotions. It has been a lifelong journey to be able to separate out myself from other people. I feel emotions intensely and emotions on the lower end of the scale such as anger frighten me. Combine that with a fear of rejection and you have someone easily emotionally manipulated.
Back to my story. I was writing about how as an adolescent and young adulthood, I had no concept of the government, really and how it personally affected my life. I was attributing that ignorance due to being poor. First of all, there were no learning opportunities in my environment about our government. Second, I never had things to lose. We did not own property. My mother quit her low paying job when I was in the 7th grade. She never really talked about why. Somehow we were existing.
During this time frame, we went on food stamps which is a government program. I had a memory of walking to the grocery store about 1/2 to a mile away and buying groceries. When it was time to check out, I was absolutely humiliated. I remembered that sometimes my mother would send my sister and myself to the grocery store with food stamps in hand. If we wanted to eat, we would have to go through the humiliation of paying with food stamps. Sat here on my leather, yellow couch, I released a wound tonight form long ago. Ashamed of myself for having human needs. The basic human need of food, I was ashamed for needing to eat. This must be how a homeless person feels when they are seen hunting in a garbage can. Ashamed for needing to eat. In fact, I usually fall to pieces when I see a homeless person looking for food. It is the same thing. I am no different than the starving homeless person. They are just a reflection of myself. Seeing the shame in the homeless person is a reflection of the shame within myself.
Where did I get this shame, I asked myself? How did I know to be ashamed of using food stamps? I absorbed it from my mother. She passed her shame onto me. It was she that was ashamed which is why she oftentimes sent her children to buy the groceries, so she would not have to experience it herself. She dumped her emotions onto me and I absorbed them. Not everyone who is on food stamps is ashamed of themselves. If there would have been discussion about it in our house, that it was presented as not something to be embarrassed and ashamed about, then it would not have been as traumatizing.
Back to fear. What fears did I have that were protecting this wound? You know, the fears that say "do not go there, it will be painful." I believe it is tied into survival needs. Food and housing which are basic human needs and when my ability to survive is threatened, it is translated into being afraid. So, for example, the loss of my home in foreclosure was creating all of this fear. The fear was guarding this wound of being ashamed of myself for needing a house or food. I have been identifying my being, my beautiful being, with the kind of house I live in. And if the house and food are gone, then there I am again, back to being an ashamed child.
I am working with owning everything I see on the outside as a reflection of myself. Everything, EVERYTHING that is in my experience, I am creating from the inside. If we embrace our fears, then the gift on the other side is the release of what it has been guarding. After the release of a fear, then we will no longer need to create it on the outside in order to see it. That's the plan, anyway......
Especially me. I am a human emotional sponge. I am an empath which is having the experience of feeling everyone else's emotions. It has been a lifelong journey to be able to separate out myself from other people. I feel emotions intensely and emotions on the lower end of the scale such as anger frighten me. Combine that with a fear of rejection and you have someone easily emotionally manipulated.
Back to my story. I was writing about how as an adolescent and young adulthood, I had no concept of the government, really and how it personally affected my life. I was attributing that ignorance due to being poor. First of all, there were no learning opportunities in my environment about our government. Second, I never had things to lose. We did not own property. My mother quit her low paying job when I was in the 7th grade. She never really talked about why. Somehow we were existing.
During this time frame, we went on food stamps which is a government program. I had a memory of walking to the grocery store about 1/2 to a mile away and buying groceries. When it was time to check out, I was absolutely humiliated. I remembered that sometimes my mother would send my sister and myself to the grocery store with food stamps in hand. If we wanted to eat, we would have to go through the humiliation of paying with food stamps. Sat here on my leather, yellow couch, I released a wound tonight form long ago. Ashamed of myself for having human needs. The basic human need of food, I was ashamed for needing to eat. This must be how a homeless person feels when they are seen hunting in a garbage can. Ashamed for needing to eat. In fact, I usually fall to pieces when I see a homeless person looking for food. It is the same thing. I am no different than the starving homeless person. They are just a reflection of myself. Seeing the shame in the homeless person is a reflection of the shame within myself.
Where did I get this shame, I asked myself? How did I know to be ashamed of using food stamps? I absorbed it from my mother. She passed her shame onto me. It was she that was ashamed which is why she oftentimes sent her children to buy the groceries, so she would not have to experience it herself. She dumped her emotions onto me and I absorbed them. Not everyone who is on food stamps is ashamed of themselves. If there would have been discussion about it in our house, that it was presented as not something to be embarrassed and ashamed about, then it would not have been as traumatizing.
Back to fear. What fears did I have that were protecting this wound? You know, the fears that say "do not go there, it will be painful." I believe it is tied into survival needs. Food and housing which are basic human needs and when my ability to survive is threatened, it is translated into being afraid. So, for example, the loss of my home in foreclosure was creating all of this fear. The fear was guarding this wound of being ashamed of myself for needing a house or food. I have been identifying my being, my beautiful being, with the kind of house I live in. And if the house and food are gone, then there I am again, back to being an ashamed child.
I am working with owning everything I see on the outside as a reflection of myself. Everything, EVERYTHING that is in my experience, I am creating from the inside. If we embrace our fears, then the gift on the other side is the release of what it has been guarding. After the release of a fear, then we will no longer need to create it on the outside in order to see it. That's the plan, anyway......
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