Have you noticed how life leaves clues along the way? At the time the clues are dropped, we often miss them (or at least, I do) but looking back, it’s so clear why this thing, that thing, or the other thing had to happen in order for us to arrive right here.
In this very moment.
As this very version of us.
For me, when my spirit came knocking again after a little while of being…well, I have no idea where it was, to be honest— it was muted within my human reality/body/life, lets put it that way. Sort of half asleep.
Whatever, wherever, however. When it returned, it brought with it the entire story of me, including a trail of very obvious signposts pointing to here, now, me.
The journey to accepting (loving all the bits and pieces of) myself, others, and all of life has been an absolutely fascinating one.
Epiphany after epiphany. Resistance. Rest. Depression.
Energy shift. Growth. Slight acceptance of self and others.
Divorce (oh bugger).
Depression. Depression. Depression.
More epiphanies. Resistance. Rest. Enjoy life. Greater love and acceptance of my humans and myself.
Energy shift. Rest. Depression. More acceptance. Epiphany. Growth. Rest. I think you get the picture.
Anyway, it’s been a journey so far, and after a massive energy shift last week I’m feeling GOOD. Really full, and whole, and content. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been out walking every morning this week—hanging out with music, trees, and the good old whirling universe that’s made the difference. A bit of self-love and me-time does tend to bring the balance back a little, doesn’t it.
This morning’s epiphanies lead to the absolute realization that perfect cannot exist without imperfect, just as thick cannot exist without thin. And so the idea that I am what I am when I am it, began to sink a little deeper into the essence of me. It sounded and felt like the most beautiful, soothing lullaby to me.
As I tidied the mess that small children make of an otherwise tidy house, I let the toys, the noise and the lack of control just wrap around me, rather than ‘judge’ it for being ‘bad’. I accepted the chaos, and when I did, I clearly saw and understood the duality of it all. I cannot have these beautiful tiny humans, without the opposite of the good they bring. Because that is life. That is the chaos of it all.
The moment I accepted that small children just are where they are at (guys, that’s code for complete mess makers and lunatics 😛 ) the easier it was for me to accept where I am at. See? What magic is this life? SUCH magic. (And no, I’m not at ALL sorry for my CONSTANT use of the word magic. Ha ha ha :P)
I’m so grateful for the growth and change that is the story of me at this time in my life.
And I can’t wait to see what the next few pages of this wonderous book of life bring to me, and my sweet (cough: messy) bubbas.
I’m a bit of a nerd If you’d like to give that particular invisible stream of ‘me-ness’ a name.
My brain works in weird and wonderful ways (like all of our brains do). Perhaps, though, I glorify the magnificence of the human condition a little more than most— I can admit to that much.
I’ve never really understood why humans aren’t more fascinated by the wonder that is these truly magnificent bodies we’re built into.
How they can break, and heal, as if by magic.
How they can mix ingredients (male and female) to induce a process of growth and birth so miraculous it’s incomprehensible how any human has actually existed, ever.
How the light in my eyes can tell you how in love with you I really am, and how my words do not have to tell you a thing about the way that particular love feels inside of my body.
Anyway, I know:
I’m a bit of a nerd.
But don’t you guys think it is ALL so TRULY AMAZING?
I sure do, and that’s just the human body parts of it all.
I’ve just read a blog post that made me dig a little into the way I feel about all this human-ness at a deeper level, particularly the way I feel about the ‘invisible’ things of life.
Love (or any emotion, really).
It all lives in the sea of nothing and everything, doesn’t it?
Energy. Nothing and everything.
My Dad always used to throw out this line—and laugh at his own hilarity, actually, as I often laugh at my own. I completely blame him. For that, and for my large selection of ‘funny but not really funny’ jokes.
Anyway, the line he used to toss out there was ‘time is an abstract concept.’
At the time (ha ha ha :P) —I was somewhere between eight and thirteen, I’d imagine— I looked at him, eyebrow raised. What on earth was he going on about? Time wasn’t abstract. Time was clearly time.
Part of me agrees still, that time is a very real thing.
There is a clock up there. Today is Saturday.
But is there really ‘time’ because there is a clock up there?
And is it really Saturday, guys?
And am I, indeed, ‘a nerd’? (Wink)
I’ll be back tomorrow with some more waffling, I think.
It’s time for me to ‘move’ somewhere new.
It appears that I’m back from the black hole of everybody get the hell away from me, I’m having an actual meltdown. Thank goodness for that, too, because it kind of sucked being in mega cranky land for all those days of black. It felt a little like I was in a dark room and couldn’t see a thing.
Stress is such a bugger, isn’t it? It has a way of stopping a person in their tracks, just as things seem to be getting better. I have a couple of interesting (cough: just plain odd) ways of looking at stress and the way it sits energetically in my system, so I thought while it’s on my mind—while I’m so fresh from this black hole—I might share them with you guys.
I suppose it’s all linked to that dark room I referred to earlier. Stress makes it hard to see clearly what is in front of me, and, if I’m going through a bit of a tough time and my energy system is already overloaded with all the painful nonsense…there really is no room for any of the good stuff to move on in.
Late last week, the beautiful counsellor I’d been seeing asked me where I see my life heading over the next little while, and I honestly could not answer her. So I put my predicament to her in woo-woo terms.
‘I’m having a vision of a brick wall,’ I said to her. ‘I know there is something behind this wall, but I can’t see what it is yet because there are too many blocks of stress that make up the wall. In this vision, I’m seeing myself taking down one brick at a time, and as I do, slowly the thing behind the wall (my future) is becoming clear.’ I really liked that idea of a wall of stress being made up of the individual stresses I am currently facing, because it made me see that if I pick off just one brick at a time, I will end up with a clearer picture in the end.
The other way I’ve been dealing with stress, lately— now that I can’t help but think of things in terms of energy— is by visualising the stress in my body as black smoke. It seems to me that the more stress (energetic bombardment) I have in my life, the thicker that cloud of muddy black in and around me is likely to be. Who could possibly see clearly through such a dense fog of black? Not me, that’s for shiz.
When I’m trying to clear my own energy of all the icky stuff, I’ll often visualise a trail of black smoke leaving my body as I breathe deeply, and I’ll keep visualising that very same image until all the black is gone.
This was how I got the Soft Girl to come back to me the other day. I sat on the grass and did all the breathing, getting rid of all the black energetic smoke, and voila! A few hours later, there she was. My beloved Soft Girl. Interestingly, my physical body also felt lighter once all the black stuff was gone, too— and that makes me feel as though there really is something to the saying: ‘stress is weighing me down.’
Anyhow, that’s all very woo woo, I know, but there’s no denying the clarity I feel after a good meditation session where I take enough time to rid myself of the energetic black stuff that makes up my stress blocks. Even though it’s kind of an odd way of looking at things, I thought it might be nice to share with those of you who are open to alternative methods of stress relief.
It’s best to listen to the soul the first time it speaks.
It will never stop speaking—not ever—until you listen and do what it says.
The soul speaks in many languages, starting with the soft and ending with the hard.
First, it asks you, nicely, to listen to it.
Then it asks you nicely again.
If you’ve heard, but have not listened (cough: all of us, most of the time) it will ask you a third time with a much angrier voice, and that’s just the way it is when a soul has something to say to the body that drives it.
Oftentimes our soul gets to three or more before we act and soothe it. Some people die without soothing it at all, and that’s why I’m writing these words.
Because sometimes we all need a reminder.
Listen to your soul.
Give it what it needs.
Who even knows what is going on with this July energy, but if you are diving deep into the guts of you, or kind of feeling a little bit like there is a thick layer of mud painted onto your skin, too…that would probably be because—drum roll— July-kind-of-sucks. Just today alone I have failed to even start anything I’ve set out to do, to the point where the day will be gone soon and I will still be wondering when it is going to start. (Disclaimer: this could also just be a ‘me’ thing, but I’m going to say it’s an everyone thing. It feels like it’s probably an everyone thing.)
Guys. I’m just here to say that it’s totally okay to eat all the doughnuts if July is, in fact, having its way with you, too. Go on— the sugary ones with jam inside are particularly awesome, as long as you don’t heat them up to the point of tongue burning. (Omg. Ouch.)
That reminds me of a fun story, and I reckon I need to tell it…if only to lighten us all up a bit. 🙂
It was when I was about eight, I’d say. I was an only child at this point, and my wonderful, fun-guy Step-Dad had taken me to Lunar Park (an amusement park) where we were plonked on a picnic bench, gobbling up hot jam doughnuts.
Everything was going well until he dropped the sugar bomb:
‘Right. Here’s a challenge. I dare you to eat an entire doughnut without licking the sugar off your lips.’
I could have died.
The way the story ended is kind of vague to me now. I’m pretty sure it ended with me meeting his challenge successfully but coming to the conclusion that, because of the amount of concentration needed to keep me from licking my lips…I didn’t enjoy the doughnut one little bit.
So, essentially, I won.
But I also lost. So mega big time.
And that was the day I realised I will never say no to that kind of sugary goodness ever again.
Happy July-ing, everyone. And happy weekend, too. xx
Today, the energy of the earth feels like a dense, dark chocolate cake. They say it’s because Mercury is in retrograde and the moon is doing all sorts of eclipsing and the like, so things are probably going to feel a bit dense. But why does my brain have to feel it like chocolate cake? Perhaps I need more sleep.
I’ve been afraid to really go into too many of the changes that have been slowly melting my life over the past eighteen months (such as a new recognition of the way my brain perceives subtle differences in energetic states) and there’s a reason for that. Fear. Fear of losing my nearest and dearest. Fear of being seen as, ‘Ah, yes. That crazy girl who thinks she can feel the difference between an everyday kind of day, and a lunar eclipse kind of day.’
Well. I mean…it’s happening, whether I like it or not. And I have lost people, and likely will continue to do so, over time, sadly. But what seems to have been the theme of the day (for, oh, I don’t know, a whole year) is that the universe is really just not having a bar of my nonsense denial phase and is really rather emphatically pushing me to move into my new skin.
I think I’m finally ready to run with it.
For those of you who are pretty happy with the blog the way it is…don’t worry. I don’t see any drastic changes happening with the creative type posts I pop up— this is my creative haven, after all, and I’m so grateful to have the chance to share that deeper part of me with all of you.
But what I am thinking I might do, is be brave and talk a little more about some of the more interesting things associated with this new land of woo woo I’ve fallen into. The random psychic stuff that happened at the start. The energy stuff. The way I used to see the world, and the way I just don’t see it that way anymore.
Yes. I’m going to go there, you guys, because it’s really actually kind of cool and exciting, depending on how wide you’re willing to open your mind. I’ve been fully checked physically and mentally— all is good. So now I’m forced to face the ultimate truth. That all this must mean…I am more than what I always thought I was. You are too. We all are, in fact. So why don’t we just run with exploring these possibilities and see where they lead. I’m game if you are. xx
I’m reading again. I’m reading a lot, actually. My goodness, it’s all the lovely things.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to read for all the years books went missing from my life. I blamed it on the quick and easy of social media. How convenient it was to click onto an article offered by Facebook, or Twitter, or whatever platform I was virtually chillin’ my life away on.
I first discovered Facebook in my early twenties, and WHAT wonder IS this! My goodness. The possibilities of that place seemed endless. In fact, were it not for Facebook…I’d not have re-met the man who eventually became my husband (and super fun guy Dad to my two beautiful kiddlywinks.)
I became so ‘into’ Facebook at one point, I considered it a problem. I was desperate to get rid of it because it seemed to be sucking so much life out of me, but how to take the giant leap away? It just would not let me go. It was my curiosity for what was going on in the comment section that found me in the deepest water. I was becoming deeply affected by ALL the opinions, and consequently, I was very slowly disappearing beneath them.
Looking back, I see what the problem likely was. All that social media drama must have been doing quite the number on my brain. No wonder the calm and quiet energy of reading seemed to have fallen by the wayside. My brain was addicted to noise. Not only was it addicted to the action…it was also addicted to being seen, to being heard, to being loved.
I don’t know when all that changed, but I know it was by happy accident. I think it was after the birth of my second child, maybe, when I was just too busy to even think about the delightful terrors gifted to me by the comment section. I was also in the thick of things with my Masters at the time—completely immersed in my little collection of short stories. It was such a swift and sneaky cut off, I don’t even recall the day I stopped and said, Facebook what, now?
And so, just like that, the addiction was gone. I will admit that I have really come to enjoy Instagram for the creative platform it provides (and the odd chance to share some of my bright and shiny pom poms with the world.) But I don’t see myself returning to that addictive social media space anytime soon. I lost far too much of myself there once upon a time—too many hours, too much of my calm and happy—to risk going back.
Not to mention my precious books. Sigh. Thank goodness I have them back again.
Let’s talk about magic. The type that swirls around us human folk without us even knowing, without us even trying. The kind of magic I’m talking about is the kind that arises from our natural human energies and the way those energies interact with those around us.
Many years ago— before I became someone’s wife and someone’s Mummy—my thing was acting. There were so many aspects to treading the boards that I loved. Embodying a character essentially gave me permission to do a whole bunch of fun things the real me would never get away with in real life. I mean. How’s that for awesome?
Those years were some of the most wonderful of my life, where I got to unleash my creative essence on the world and have a whole lot of fun along the way. Every show was different. Every character I played: different, each with their own unique personality trying to make its way into the world, through me.
One thing was always the same, though. The backstage buzz. The energy. Every night before the curtains parted, the cast and crew would stand in the wings with wide eyes and vibrating hair—visible signs of the excited, nervous energy that lived within and around us.
This energy was always there, and it was unmistakable. And though none of us could put our finger on how it was made, or where it came from within our bodies, there would not be an actor out there who could deny its magic. To this day I’m in awe of its power, and the potential it always poured into the performance to come.
But even though the energy of stage actors themselves is otherworldly and brilliant, perhaps the most baffling and awe-inspiring energy transfer is that between the audience and the actors. More specifically, how the energy of the audience, as a collective, influences the energy of the performance.
A ‘good’ or ‘bad’ audience can change a show entirely. A ‘good’ audience has the ability to lift a performance. A ‘bad’ audience has the ability to kill it. Human energy, cause and effect. Life transferred from one group to another, each affecting the other in ways the rational mind can’t even come close to understanding.
So. For those actors, musicians, live performers out there who might be wondering…you’re not alone if you’ve felt it. I’ve felt it, and many performers I know have felt it, too.
As for those of us who are, at one time or another, members of an audience—look around. Are people smiling as the show goes on? Or are they just a bit ho-hum about the whole shebang? Because If they’re a bit ho-hum…chances are the actors are backstage, wondering where all the laughs have gone and disappointed not to have the chance to feed off the positive energy of a ‘good’ audience.
My advice to any theatre, dance, or live music lovers out there would be this: if you’re unlucky enough to see a show on a ‘bad’ audience night…go see it again. I can guarantee you, it will be a different show next time around. A better one. And all thanks to that mysterious universal thing: human energy. Magic. Don’t you think?