Being A Real Mother

I was in the depths of emotional despair last night. I mean, I really went there. I love that though, that I have to know such a comfort with every aspect of myself. And that I’m not a runner. I won’t run from myself expressing myself in any light. It really is a reward for a journey hard won.

The quiet of the situation right now (the quarantine) has given me pause to think of what lies beneath my normally resilient exterior. Sadness. And a general belief that I’m somehow failing at life. My guides laughed and laughed and laughed at the one. The jokes were never ending. I mean, thanks invisible friends, but for five whole minutes I really felt that way!

I think I tend to look at people doing what I had hoped to do with my life and beating myself up for not being in the position to be there with them yet, serving a mission bigger than myself. And yet, in reality, there isn’t a way for me to achieve that just yet, because my energy really is tied up in motherhood. Anyone who can deny that motherhood isn’t reason enough to reach for bigger dreams, doesn’t understand being fully committed to something other than themselves.

I pride myself on not being half ass when it comes to anything. A judgment I have of other mothers, or parents in general, is the parent who chose themselves over their child. Their lives are often more exciting, looking better on the surface than mine for sure, but if you have to abandon a whole entire child to live your glamorous lifestyle, is it really worth it in the end? My kids will never have to question my love for them, and I should be proud of that.

I still reach where I can, when I can, but it really has been a struggle to get anything truly started as far as a successful career goes, when I’m so committed to my children. I realize though, after taking a moment to wallow in my supposed failure, that I haven’t failed at all, because I haven’t failed them.  I’m not a part time parental figure, and let me take a moment to just say, mom’s, I see you. You’re doing better than you think. And when they can, your children will be able to truly thank you for your loyalty to them, especially through the tougher days. Maybe you’ll even raise people who aren’t searching for themselves in everybody else. People who can really appreciate who they are, and work for the world, rather than for their image.

I don’t think mothers get enough credit. And I’m angry about that. A mother, a good mother, gives up her entire life the moment she knows she’s carrying a child in her womb. She does it instinctively. I know, this post will offend some mothers, but honestly, I hate seeing women take credit for being a mother when her children are often the least important priority in her experience, while some of us really have given up sleep, relationships, and our dreams in moments, to be the best version of a mother she can be. One, it’s not an easy thing to do. Two, it’s not something people give you much credit for either anymore.

Still, I know my restless spirit is seeking new horizons and as my children age, and can take on more of their own self care, I know that it is time to consider new experiences and reaching new heights. Not just for me, but as an example to them as well. I want to ultimately give them a better lifestyle, and I know that I have enough gifts to elaborate upon to eventually do that for them. I love seeing my children already having a better childhood experience than I had. I’m not the mother complaining about homeschooling my children during this pandemic. They are not a problem to me. They are a blessing in a blessing’s purest form. They are the reason I come back to again and again and again, when I am trying to define my importance in this world.

I am not unsuccessful, because throughout my journey I have recommitted to them again and again, and again. I have stayed in situations I would have run from as soon as I could have, to be their  protector. My contribution isn’t dishes and laundry, and homework and chores. I am not an invisible member of society. I am a fucking mother. And maybe in being that committed to the right thing, I will raise people who love themselves. Rather than those who seek importance in things like fame, followers, and women.

I have goals. I have dreams. I have plans. I have wants, needs, and desires. I am seeking new experiences, but for now, until a door opens, this is my Heaven. And I’d like to see mothers get a little more credit, because it isn’t always easy to have to wait to accomplish your dreams. To be able to fully commit to something outside of the home. I am not a failure, because I did what mattered the most to me first. And I can honestly say, I didn’t half ass it.

Also, I am doing what I love. I just need to find a way to make it into something that earns me a living. I caught myself saying “I need to get my shit together”, the other day, and immediately stopped myself. No, I don’t. My shit is together. I don’t drink, drug, party, date a lot of different men. I am heavily invested in my spiritual path, branching out and reaching for new dreams all the time. I am not the one who needs to get my shit together. My shit is together. I just need to figure out how I’m going to make money doing what I love to do, rather than trying to please others by being willing to play the role of extension of them any longer. I don’t need to make anyone but me proud. And I already do that.

I have fought with myself every step of the way, to become a better mother to my children. To be a loving guide and mentor. To not hold them too tight, or try to change them for the sake of making them into my hope for who they will become. To be less impatient, less rough, less hurtful all the time. I have made this commitment again and again, and again.

And I am proud of myself.

The glory isn’t in mattering to a shallow world. It’s in mattering to those who need you to be there for them.

You can’t fail at a mission of the heart.

Namaste’

 

 

 

Jumanji!

We’re right in the middle of a pandemic that has changed our lives dramatically in a matter of mere weeks. I have been in and out of fear, and have come to understand that we’re all going through a lot more than simply having to change a few things. We’re literally learning how to live differently, and even the small things are suddenly big. Things like touching a walk button with your bare hand can quickly become a moment of dread. It is in those smallest  moment’s that the change we are going through is magnified. and we are brutally reminded that everything is different now than it was a month ago.

My children are out of school until at least May 1st, which is fine (will I ever home school my own kids again? This is a once in a lifetime thing), but I would love for them to be able to spend their last couple of weeks in school, saying a proper goodbye to their teachers and friends. I have a sixth grade graduate this year. I’ve been looking forward to his ceremony.  Yet, I know, that whatever will be, will be.

Moments will be lost in the chaos of this mess. Sometimes big moments we never suspected could be lost to something like this, like a mother giving birth without her spouse in the delivery room. Still, I suppose it’s better to lose a moment than to lose a lifetime. Sometimes our perspective simply needs to be shifted to understand what really matters (I know, I’m an asshole who can say that now, because I didn’t have to give birth alone. Privilege …)

I had a timeline of events slide into my psyche DM’s this morning, as I asked my guides, “well, what can we expect with this virus?” The timeline I was given was that the virus will really begin to die down by June. July and August will still be somewhat tense. By September (when our children return for the new school year) we’ll all be ready for a little normal. And by November there will be a vaccine created that does works. This is the timeline that I picked up on, but I hate giving readings, because really, it’s risky if the timeline ever changes.

I had a visit from a ghost friend last night. I was washing my face near a window with no curtains when I felt someone watching me. The presence was so very strong, I started flicking on all the lights in the backyard, but I didn’t see anybody out there. As I lie down in bed I realized the energy had followed me into my room. Once I acknowledged him he asked me, “am I dead?” We had a good conversation, about his life and how he died, and there was even a bit of joking.

He wasn’t a bad guy, but a man who never felt his mother loved him. Because of this core wound in him he went on to live a life of bad decisions and negative consequences. He spoke a bit about how no woman wanted him, because he hadn’t known how to treat them. He wished he had treated women better, because he really would have loved to be a husband and father. He actually quite loved women.

His name was Zephyr. He was 29 years old. He died by gunshot wound. His mothers husband had shot him as he was breaking in to steal things to sell for money. They had so much, he knew they could spare whatever he needed, but they refused, so he attempted to steal it from them instead.

The topic turned to his name. He wondered if I picked up on the fact that his real name wasn’t Zephyr. I told him I figured, and asked him what his real name was. He laughed and said, Clive. He joked that his mother’s brother had been named Clive, that she’d “gotten all emotional” on him and given him his uncles name, after he’d passed on. I told him he had back luck, and string of bad name jokes exchanged between us filled my head.

I’ve been doing these tarot readings online, and I have fallen in love with the gift of tarot reading. They are always very accurate. At first I thought they would be a fun way to kill some time, but when the readings turned out to confirm much of what I already expected for me, I really have to show my respect by posting here that a tarot reading is an absolute gift from God.

I’ve done at least ten love readings from different tarot readers and the man I’m supposed to marry is always the same person.  I get a little emotional. A good tarot reading isn’t just a fun thing to pass time, it reaches deep into your heart and mind, pulling to the surface what you already sense, but maybe can’t admit to yourself. Or that which you have trouble believing because it’s hard to believe in anything when prolonged time in the same run down energy, is and has been a predominant theme in your life.

My husband supposedly will see me as a Queen. He will treat me in a way that I’ve never been treated before. He will like to shower me with compliments and gifts. He is already successful and wants nothing more than to share that with the love of his life (meeeeeeee!). He’s a born leader and is in a position of power, traveling often for work. He’s very into fitness and thinks I’m quite beautiful, even the parts of me that I hesitate to love about myself. Again, I already sensed this about him and our relationship, but I love validation. And validation is what reading after reading gave me when it described the same man over and over again.

With the whole pandemic thing going on, I’m beginning to think that after it’s over, I won’t be the same person. I don’t think I can stay small any longer. I think I’ll have to stop playing with small people, and step up my game. I sense there is a lot of success in the future for me, and I am in fact, on the right path. Like all that hard work is finally bringing me to the doorstep of what I am here to do.

This situation is reminding me of the uncertainty of life and time. I don’t think I can go back to the way things were. I think I’ve outgrown the life I have been living. I think I was supposed to. I know that no matter what comes next, I won’t allow it to be the same old thing anymore. I think it’s time to be a butterfly. Maybe some of us weren’t born to stay the same person forever?

My reading for 2020 was “expect better”, so you can imagine how many times this year I’ve asked my guides, “like what the fuck, guys?” They keep confirming it though, and literally saying, we said to expect better for you. So I guess that wasn’t a general reading. And there is still hope that 2020 can deliver a few amazing packages …

Byyyyyyeeeee

*update: Alisha was hit by a stampede of antelope right after posting this. Monkey’s are currently gnawing on her dead body? Is this Jumanji?!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Falling Apart

I thought socially isolating was going to be easier than this. I’m on week one. Week one. One week. I found myself falling into a major Depression yesterday with all that has transpired in the last month alone. It’s a lot of heavy stuff to deal with in such a short while. I miss the smallest freedoms, like walking into a coffee shop and having a cup of coffee. And grocery shopping, even though I hate people in general.

The feeling of my entire life being on hold indefinitely is scary, and yet I am lucky that when this pandemic hit I wasn’t yet in a position that caused much to change. I know a lot of people either can’t do the whole pandemic thing (like not now pandemic, I have bills), or will lose a lot more than me if they do. I am grateful that I had a solid enough foundation that it actually works really well for me to incorporate a pandemic into my schedule this year.

Anyway, with my mood being so low yesterday I was feeling that red alert to find something to lift my spirit. When I get Depressed I don’t just get a little sad, I fall down a little rabbit hole, and that can actually scare even me. I’m getting better at being aware of and monitoring my moods, and knowing what stage I’m in.  With my lack of taking Anti-Depressants because they simply never worked for me in an entire decade, the alternative route has become about creating and maintaining a balance of hobbies, responsibilities, and spiritual health. I mean, I never thought I’d be the hippie who praised natural methods of coping, but here I am …

I did something sort of stupid yesterday, but it was enough of a taste of regret that I won’t do it again. I decided to follow my kids to a local skate park, thinking it obviously wouldn’t be very populated, as there is a global pandemic going on currently. I was wrong, so very wrong. The skate park was full of young people, standing around in groups, riding bikes, rolling by on anything with at least two wheels. The Walmart across the street was no less busy than it ever is. Cars filled every slot in the parking lot.  I was disheartened, and a little grossed out.

We didn’t stay very long, and kept our distance. There is an adjoining pump track two hundred feet away that was deserted, and we took full advantage. We didn’t talk to anyone, or even stand near anyone not in our immediate family, but still it was enough of a wake up call that we can’t even allow ourselves that much of an outing right now.  For every person worrying and doing their part to stop the spread of the virus, is a group of people who really … don’t care. I don’t want to be lumped in with them, even if it is boring and I am getting Depressed staying closer to home.

Another 4.1 aftershock quake hit Utah yesterday, and we’re all a little tired of those. The smaller ones wake me up at night, gently rocking back and forth in my bed like I’m on a boat at sea. It makes me a little queasy. We’re all still a little on edge from our somewhat big earthquake this week, and we kind of just want it all to stop now. On top of the pandemic crisis, it’s just almost too much to ask of anyone to tolerate.

My mother had emergency brain surgery three days ago. None of her children could visit her in the hospital, which was so uncomfortable for me. The nurses were so sweet when I’d call to check on her, and I’m thankful for her release home yesterday. I will keep my distance for now, as she is one of our more vulnerable having her share of heart and lung issues these past few years. The last time she was in the hospital we were able to hang out in her room, teasing her, writing insane goals (winning American Idol, learning to surf, marrying a prince) on her goal chart, and buying her treats, because studies show that chocolate causing a speedier recovery than basically anything else. It’s true, don’t google it.

It has been rough. It has been more than rough. It has been frightening. It has been heartbreaking. It has been maddening. Still, I was reminded that when we can’t change our circumstances, the only thing we can control is the way we see our circumstances. This is hard enough without consistently making it an even more negative experience. It’s bad, but in the midst of chaos and the rubble that falls with every hit our foundation takes, is still life. Real life didn’t stop. The world is still turning.

Maybe we’re being forced to slow down, and reconnect to what truly matters to us. It’s not a given that the wold will ever stop spinning so fast again, that we will have the opportunity to hear a bird chirping like it’s the first time we ever stopped to hear it. Maybe it’s okay that life has become about reaching out to our loved ones, even if it is only via text, to remind them that they’re not alone. Maybe it’s okay that the world stop demanding our time and our energy to always be in serving a machine that leaves us exhausted and broken.

This doesn’t have to be the darkest days of our lives. It can become about something much more important. Forever we’ve longed for the moment when we could stop the constant motion, breathe a little deeper, and really exist in the present moment. A moment where our worry and fears weren’t just ours, but we could all hold hands energetically and understand how connected we really are. So connected that when one of us gets sick, we are all at risk.

I think we’ve seen our survival skills emerge (hoarding), and we’re seeing the love we have for one another (quarantine). A love that doesn’t care what your political beliefs are, what color your skin is, or how much money you have. Maybe it’s reaching, but I feel us reaching, grasping, hoping that there is meaning behind everything we don’t understand. It’s in our nature to create and heal, and maybe that’s all this is.

For a hot month I would wake up every morning between 3 and 5 am. Sometimes it varied slightly, but not by much. In those hours I would often listen to music. I wondered why after a lifetime of not being an insomniac, my sleeping patterns would shift so dramatically. I found an article that says that not being able to sleep in those specific hours meant I was harboring deep sadness. That deep sadness affects the lungs. Deep, unexpressed sadness, affects the lungs.

Again, maybe it’s reaching, but I don’t find it hard to believe that a world who will do almost anything to avoid deep sadness within themselves, would be able to create a pandemic that affects the lungs. It’s what humans do. They create illness within themselves, and only when that illness stops them from going about life as normal, do they ever stop and think about how or why.  Or want to change.

The world may be falling apart, but why would anything ever fall apart?

That is the answer we are always seeking, whether it’s a marriage ending, a global pandemic, or your own precious mental state.

I’ll stay home now, because I love you.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Earthquake

“I survived my first real Earthquake, six rolling aftershock quakes, and four hours without power, and all I got was this stinkin’ shirt.” This is marketable. I’m feeling it in my bones. Go forth and profit from this, chosen one! Cheap quality t-shirts are on their way! Hang tight, Salt Lake City, Utah! Amazon is already ordering them in bulk …

I was awoken, like all of Salt Lake City, West Valley City, and Magna City (where it hit hardest) Utah, this morning by an 5.7 magnitude Earthquake. The first of this size since 1992. And that one was a bit more south, which explains why I have no recollection of such an event my my memory bank.

For as long as I can remember I’ve been preparing for an Earthquake. From the yearly drills that walked us through lifesaving actions during my Elementary School days, to the general talk that Utah was way past due for one, like any day now. Specifically the area I grew up in, where my whole family still resides, Sugar house. Today I got to put my training to good use. Ummmmm, lying in bed staring at the ceiling the entire time is good too, right?

I was somewhere between being asleep and awake while this all happened. The roaring of the Earthquake, the shaking of my bed, the questions that entered my still mind. Everything slows down, and each moment is drawn out for a dramatic effect. I wondered, what is that sound? Is this what an Earthquake feels like? When will it stop? Are we going to be okay? Seconds feel like an eternity when you’re frozen in time, waiting, waiting, waiting …

Once I could stand, I couldn’t get my balance, because the ground was still moving beneath my feet. It was the oddest feeling, standing on solid ground that was still moving enough to make me grab at the door frame of my bedroom for support. My little ones had been shaken out of their sleep by then, and came stumbling, sleepy eyed, out of their room.

I went through the strangest range of motions in my half awake state of mind. I had my youngest son crouch in the doorway (80’s children, this is no longer recommended. You’re actually supposed to find something heavy to hide underneath, to avoid potentially flying glass and other debris.) with me, as I prepared to cover him with my own body. The aftershocks still rolling in randomly every few minutes. I tried my best to recall the best course of action, but it had been decades since my last Earthquake training course in sixth grade.

Moments like that stay with you for a lifetime, burned in your soul until the day it isn’t just another thing you survive, and it really is game over.

As soon as I realized I was alive, I wondered if my family was. I quickly texted everyone in Sugarhouse, hoping to hear back from them rapidly. I did the social media thing and posted a quick status update asking my Utah family if they had survived what was my idea of  a really big Earthquake (I thought it was at least a 7). Replies started coming in immediately. People were shaken, but everyone was fine. A family member as far as Ogden felt the tremors, but not nearly as severely as those of us closest to Magna.

For the next hour I checked in with neighbors and family members, including my elderly neighbor Pat (who always give the boys candy for every holiday). It turns out that another neighbor had thought to check in on her. Even the police rolled up to knock on her door, to see if she was alright. Sometimes it takes the world crumbling to bring out the best in people, but it’s still in there. Humanity is still basically good at it’s core.

A lot of Utah is echoing my sentiment that the last thing any of us needed was an Earthquake. All Utah schools have been closed for the next two weeks at least. We’re all learning how to survive in a new way, with no real guidebook as to how to do that. People are scared. This is unbelievable, and humanity is on it’s knee’s seeking comfort in the least comfortable of circumstances.

As I contacted my siblings this morning I was met with a brisk answer, as they were on their way to the hospital with our most prized person, mom. I can’t write about it all yet, as the details are sparse, and I’m five hours into my waiting for an answer to what’s going on with her this crazy morning.

My sister said the hospital isn’t allowing anyone in with my mother, because of the Coronavirus threat. She compared the scene of white tents and hazmat suits to that of the Quarantine Scene in E.T. This is scary. We are all a little scared, whether or not we can lighten the mood with a joke here and there. But what’s the scariest of all, isn’t the virus or an Earthquake. It’s the way humanity can so easily turn it’s back on others when it’s frightened.I believe in the best in Humanity, but sometimes the worst is what sticks out the most.

Now more than ever, we need compassion, consideration of others, and good old fashioned love.

Namaste’

 

 

 

 

 

Zombie Apocalypse

I had a dream about a week ago that scared the living shit out of me. I was in the middle of the actual Zombie Apocalypse. In my dream my father and possibly husband (there were two males I really relied on to keep me safe), were basically my protectors, though I also knew how to protect myself.

A virus that turned people into zombies was sweeping across the world, and we were few of the living left. I wondered, as I sat a table, eating dinner with my peers, what would happen to me if my father were to become ill with the zombie virus? It was a surreal feeling to be in the middle of global chaos, one that left a haunted feeling in me the next morning when I woke up.

That morning my friend who lives in Seattle had sent me a long text about the beginning of the Coronavirus spreading rapidly in Washington State. I had, of course, heard to the damn thing before, but it had always loomed in the distance before. I know, how blissful is that sort of ignorance? I wasn’t happy being bombarded with this reality hitting so close to home, and my children stayed home from school the next day while I adjusted to the threat of this virus moving in much closer to home sooner than anyone could ever really be ready for.

I made a decision then that I wasn’t going to give in the fearful energy the media was spreading. I do believe in being aware, informed, and cautious, but do not think it’s any healthier to live in dire fear of that which we can’t necessarily control. I have been paying more attention to the latest news on the virus these past couple of weeks and sort of mentally preparing for this moment.  The moment, where like in childbirth, you just breathe through it the way you breathe through a contraction. Sometimes that’s all that’s left to do. I think we all know this personally eventually, one moment at time is all we can get through with absolute certainty that we will live to tell about it.

Where did the Coronavirus come from? Well, we have the third dimensional reality of where it originated from down, but what we fail to see is how we as a Nation could even begin to create such a horrific pandemic. This fear based reality can create the most surreal manifestations. I mean, think of how many movies alone are out there based on global epidemics spreading and infecting everyone, until nobody is left but a few lone survivors. It is a lot like a Zombie Apocalypse.

If you were to compare the flu to the virus though, and take all of the same steps with the flu to insure fear is the main source of inspiration to prevent the spread of this virus, imagine what that would look like. We’d see a lot more coverage on flu deaths, and photos of the deceased being covered in sheets. The scare tactics aren’t helpful, and I resist living my life based off of the traumatizing way the media tends to handle news coverage of anything we are afraid of.

That being said once I realized Utah had closed it’s main college campus and the NBA had canceled it’s entire season I didn’t hesitate a moment to realize that it’s here, and it’s time to take precautionary measures with the people I love the most. As of last night my children will be taking a super long Spring Break.

We have everything we need, and have canceled our March plans (gallery stroll, festival of colors, two family birthday parties), including my sons 9th birthday party. I am so intent on making sure my decision in based in being proactive rather than fearful, but to be honest, it’s a little scary anytime things change so suddenly, so drastically. As of an hour ago one of the main Elementary School Districts are closing the schools in them until further notice, so I’m just a little ahead of the game. And why wouldn’t I be? Being a mother is making those harder decisions, even if they seem a little too cautious to some.

I hope that we all know that we’re in this together, and we can help one another through this fearful time by being informed and educated. We can also aid one another in not getting the virus by being cautious and aware, as this is the only proven tactic to preventing the spread. It’s the same tactic that eventually slowed down the flu pandemic in 1918. It’s the only thing that worked. It’s funny because I just wrote about my youngest son dying in that pandemic in 1920, and here he is in a new life, living through a new pandemic.

It is one to be proactive about anything in life, and another to slip into an unconscious fear based reality. One if helpful, and the other causes people to be arrested at Costco for starting fights over water and toilet paper. Some of you never wiped your asses with scraps of old t-shirts and it shows …

Godspeed. I wish you all health and sanity through this Zombie Apocalypse. Be aware and proactive, not fearful.

Namaste’

 

 

 

If Mountains Could Talk

My cousins and I spent the morning in Neff’s Canyon hiking through snow and ice, exploring the land. I find such a relief in getting away from city life. I don’t think anything is quite as healing. Sometimes there is even an added benefit for me, and I pick up a lot more than the average person does.

I found a quiet moment near the running river, watching the beauty of the water cascading over the multi-colored rocks in all shapes and sizes. Then I felt him. He appeared to me (and this is a common thing I see on a lot of the land in Utah, for some reason) an Indian Brave, his arms crossed over his chest, dark skin, wearing very little, and a shaved head.

I wondered if he would warn me to leave like others have before him, and he did have the same energy, but less demanding. It was clear he didn’t really like us there, but didn’t necessarily think he had any say in what we did either. Like, he had see many a passerby, and though not happy about it, was also not sure there was much he could do to make us leave. And knew we would eventually leave. I told him I was leaving, and sort of laughed to myself as I walked away from the water. He then laughed as well. I think it was then that he knew I could see and hear him.

I asked my cousins to stand near the water to see if they had any feelings come through, as I really love validation. They didn’t sense much, just a heavy feeling, but couldn’t confirm my experience for me.

Nearing the end of our hike we decided to travel a little farther up the path to get a better view of the ragged peaks of a royal looking mountain. We happily chatted and walked for about ten minutes, when I stopped and turned around. My cousin asked me what was wrong, because I guess I must have looked as unsure as I felt about continuing up the mountain.

I hesitated, and then told them that in my minds eye I had seen a big cat of some kind, like a mountain lion. She was so vivid and real to me, but I couldn’t define if she was dead or alive. I didn’t know for sure if she was a vision of what lie ahead on that trail, or a deceased mountain lion that didn’t know it was dead. I could see her sort of pacing the ground, peering through trees, looking at us. We decided to turn back and head home. I always feel sort of unsure of my visions, and what they mean, but I know it’s better to be safe than sorry, and was happy my information wasn’t being crudely tossed out as a fearful perspective.

As we headed down the trail, almost to the bottom now my cousin stopped and told us to listen. Did we hear that? She said she had heard the cry of a big cat, or a small child (I don’t recall seeing a small child on the trail), and her daughter was able to confirm that she had heard it too.

I was able to see how active and busy with life the grounds had once been. I found myself wishing, as we passed ancient looking rocks, and marveled over their glory, that mountains could talk. I mean, what stories could they tell?

 

 

The Truth About Awakening

Have you ever had a dream that was so realistic that when you woke up you were still shaking, or crying, or planning to beat your cheating boyfriend with a bat while he snored happily next to you?

I wonder sometimes if Awakening is something people should be doing at all. For me, thus far, the cons seem to outweigh the pros. When I was asleep, operating on an energetic platform of being blind to anything but my human experience, in some ways I was much more content.

I was in a relationship that wasn’t exactly healthy, but I was able to create an entire fantasy out of the scraps of love and affection offered to me in that union. Sort of like the main character in A Little Princess. She was an orphan who lived in a barren attic, subsisting on bites of whatever food was shared with her, wearing rags. But she had an imagination that allowed her to see instead, herself as a princess wearing fancy clothing, and feasting on whatever her heart desired. We call this magic, but really it’s a survival skill.

I am rather envious of the sleeping these days. It’s easier to accept what is as good enough, when you can’t possibly fathom better. Or you’re really good at pretending to be satisfied with mediocre endings. A plain man who barely meets your requirements for life partner, in the blindness that is human perspective, can easily be transformed into Prince Charming. A toxic union can be become your one and only soulmate, or twin flame. I miss that …

I miss being so attached to ego that I could actually attach titles to myself that meant I was truly was very special in some way. I mean, Kylie Jenner (she’s my example of ego right now, as she’s in the spotlight currently)  isn’t America’s Sweetheart for no reason. She’s creating with a hell of a lot of ego, and it’s working for her. The privilege she was born into has allowed for her to create somewhat of a dream life, grandiose in almost every way, because the blindness of being asleep has convinced her she is truly the most beautiful woman on the planet. And worthy of worship.

The problem isn’t that we are asleep, it’s what we are born into and therefore tend to create over and over again while we sleep. Few of us will know what having a great dream feels like, and some of us will become convinced we are actually living a nightmare.

The law of attraction is used in spiritual practice, but it truly won’t solve all of your problems. Positive thinking is one thing, actually shifting your energy enough in a single lifetime to change anything, is another. It’s rare that one will even dedicate themselves to a spiritual path with such fierce determination that they will completely and radically shift their energetic standpoint to one that they like better, but it does happen. We’ve all heard the rags to riches stories.

Another thing to consider is the amount of proof we can create in a lifetime that solidifies our relationship with any aspect of our experience.  The more we get hurt by men, the more proof we have that no good, loving, kind, gentle men exist. Or if we aren’t that blind, that at least they aren’t the type who want us. It’s easier to stay on an energetic freeway that we’ve always run on before. and much harder to start finding proof of the opposite experience until we, well, create and experience it. How frustrating is that?

I suppose it is more of a slow waltz in the end, than an overnight success story, which requires a ton of faith (without any proof), that you absolutely can and therefore will have the experiences you want to have here, while earthbound. Because we did come here to enjoy ourselves, as well as to learn about ourselves. We truly didn’t come here to only ever experience the tougher lessons in life. God isn’t interested in constantly testing us, within an inch of madness, to have us prove our loyalty to him. We are supposed to be happy, really fucking happy, too.

I just found out a family friend, a man who started me on my spiritual path, has been diagnosed with brain cancer. This is the first person I ever met who shared a unique, often quirky, kind of crazy, perspective on life, with me. He’s, I guess you could say, a spiritual teacher, for me in this lifetime. He’s the doorway through which I met others, some more well known, than him, who would guide me on my journey into being Awakened. And in some ways, I always secretly considered him sort of a father figure.

The problem isn’t that I’m Awakened. It’s that now that I am awake, I realize how horrific my journey has been. I can see clearly all of the people who took advantage of me, who hurt me, who will never likely themselves, awaken enough to realize it themselves. Being Awakened in a cesspool of sleeping heathens, is hardly what I call a good time. In fact, some might say, I am living my nightmare.

And I can’t seem to wake up from it, even as I am Awakened.

I thought taking this journey would change something, but the only thing it has changed is me. Maybe I’m just in the middle of this journey, and losing hope, but it strikes me as odd that anyone would choose to be awakened from a blissful, if not entirely fabricated, happily ever after … and maybe I just need proof that my journey isn’t in vain.

Namaste’

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alpha

If you keep poking a beast eventually it will snap.

Alpha is awakening in us all. I feel this is the grand awakening, in fact, of our inner beast. We keep talking about the beast within and saying we’re going to roar, but what if what we’ve been doing before pales in comparison to actually standing firmly rooted in your place in the world and letting them know that you can not be fucked with? That’s different then asking people to leave you alone, to stop hurting you, or those you love, it’s actually having enough courage to roar in the face of that which threatens your existence, and letting everyone know for certain that you will not be overtaken by anyone.

We tend to want to avoid the harsher aspects of self, sometimes even being embarrassed by this side of ourselves. But it is in those moments that you’re once and for all establishing boundaries. A warning that you will not be pushed around is evident in the roar of the wild beast. And that roar often sounds like a snared animal screaming in pain, rather than anger.

Alpha isn’t a threat to you unless you’re a threat to it, all that it stands for, and all that it loves. Alpha doesn’t go out looking for trouble, it simply defends it’s self when the time arrives for it to do so. Alpha isn’t a bully or a bad ass, nor does it need to prove it’s self to anyone. Alpha is the wounded animal in us all, who will not tolerate someone poking it even one more single time.

Alpha is our protective inner self, who has lie dormant for the most part, because we were trained to only ever tap into it’s power when it was truly necessary. The damage this inner beast can do to those who threaten it, is severe. When a beast stands up against it’s bullies, it doesn’t hold back. It unleashes it’s power with ease, and usually not with grace.

Alpha is intuitive and inherently understands when to hold back, and when to attack it’s opponent.  It’s not about the kill, it’s about protecting that which is sacred to it. And Alpha is willing to die for that, no questions asked.

This last election has pushed many of us into that very energetic standpoint. “I will stand up for what I love, even if it means I lose family, friends, and more. I will not back down.I will stay here and fight for what is important enough to me that I would die for it.” We made a promise to ourselves three years ago that activated it’s self and grew into a purpose for many of us.

I feel my inner Alpha rising to the surface. She has absolutely had enough. Society teaches us to be peaceful at all costs. The ways of religion and all spiritual practice is about maintaining order and peace within, but we leave out the part where we are still animals. And the part where loving ourselves and others sometimes means we will actually go to war for it’s survival.

I will not forsake my inner beast anymore. There’s so much to lose in always playing mild, forgiving, unwilling to fight for what is mine.

If you send a soldier to war and his goal is to be peaceful, you’re probably going to be burying that soldier pretty early on in his deployment. There is a season for everything, and this year is about using the Alpha within. I love that because it’s also the year of the election, and we’ve spent three years building up to a moment that will be historical no matter how it turns out. We’ve never needed our inner beast to guide us more than we do now.

Just when you thought the beast was dead, it rises again, tattered, torn, barely standing, but somehow ready to fight like it’s never fought before.

Beware the roar of Alpha.