Four Miles, For Miles.

My thighs were sticking together.

I am sure a rash was happening.

The friction of skin upon skin, creating a burn like Sin.

Being in one of the most social of lady places; the bathroom, I queried another female patron.

“Do you have any powder, by chance?”

Answering the question with an action, she pulled a large zip-loc bag out of her purse.

“I need just enough to dry out my lack of thigh gap.” I respond with more dryness than my pasty but saturated Vaginal neighbors.

“Ohhh, hunny.. this aint’t talc… It’s coke.”

Immediately, I imagine the options of relief.

“Too expensive for my needs, but I bet the numbing sensation is worth it;” imagining the potential I add, ” I need four miles worth of ‘numb’ dryness.”

She queries, “Four miles?”

I am pretty sure at this point she is already coked out and her brain is having a hard time equivocating.

“Yeah… four miles home. I think by cab that is about fifteen bucks… and that just seems too much to me, for this podunk town….. too much even though, I… Even though I am having this issue.” At this point I am attempting to handle the pain with a smile… I am a liar, and this shit hurts.

Eyebrows cocked, head tilted, she questions, ” An issue?”

“A womans issue…”

She looks incredulous for a moment until a spark of understanding, spreads over her already tightened facial muscles.

“OOOoooohhh, Auntie Flo!”

I see she is now slightly softened by compassion and understanding.

“Uhmm… No.” I can’t help but pause, acknowledging that if that WAS the case, it would be the least of my concerns; and that is why God made toilet paper.

“No?” She repeats, but with a sense of fear… like maybe I will tell her I just found breast cancer, or one of my ovarian cysts just escaped.

“No. I have heinous thigh sweat, and…uhm… massive chaffing.” I don’t know why I am so ashamed of this in front of a person carrying enough cocaine to be indicted on felony, but it is how I respond, nonetheless.

“oh. OH. OooooOOHHHHhhh!” Images percolate in her mind and her eyes get big. I like that she seems to REALLY “get it”.

“Yeah…”

“Oh, hunny… that’s rough!”

Without losing a beat… I say,

“No, it’s RAW!”

I have pulled her into coke induced empathy, and she nods knowingly. “Yeah… whew, them’s the pits.”

Still feeling a bit desperate and despondent about returning to the bar,  I ask ” So, do you have anything else in that big, magic bag that might help me?”

She begins the notorious “Puffy Purse Scavenger Hunt.” Digging deep in its depths for something significant or (in her mind) useful.

” Uhm, well, how about…Preparation H? err… uh.. Advil?”

Sounds like she has a whole other set of ‘women’s issues’, the pain, numbing my filter, I outwardly express as much.

I am disappointed AND defeated, but she is quick to respond, “Damn straight! I do! And I don’t leave my house ill prepared.”

God Jeebus, she must be a Virgo… I know what she is talking about, because USUALLY, I AM that lady.

Agitated with my observations, I add in a whisper of “apparently…” with far too much judgement and sarcasm.

An awkward silence ensues, and I find this to be prime time to exit. Besides, she doesn’t have what I need, anyway.

Betcha if I needed a safety pin, there would be one floating around in there.

Maybe, just maybe, this is my fault.

Maybe, if I was at a family restaurant I would have better luck with my needs;  than sitting in this dark bar.

Maybe under other circumstances, I could find an overweight sympathetic mother, with a small baby, and an overstuffed baby bag.

And I would ask for her help, and she would reach deep into that baby bag of hers, and pull out just ONE of ten travel size baby powder bottles; and she would hand it over with loving care, and say ” Keep it. You know you’re going to need a reapplication some where down the road.”

And she would wink at me and I would feel safe, protected and loved.

I would respond with a smile and a humble “Thank you;” thinking my good Karma must be coming back in the form of self preservation, and I would walk home properly powdered.

Instead of looking for a family restaurant, with a responsible mother carrying a plentiful baby bag; I walked back into the bar intent on the only legal numbing I know… whiskey.

They know me here and the bartender asks if I will take another double Jameson on the rocks. I say “yes and add on a pint of Fat Tire.”

My favorite short order Cook sits to my right, and says “I’ve got those, put ’em on my tab.”

“Oh you don’t have to do that… I’ve got it.” I respond with a shyness.

“Nah, you gave that warm knit hat that you made to my friend who was sick… and that hat kept her head and ears warm all winter.”

I can’t argue with such kind logic, and thank him for the drinks.

My good Karma is not going to self preservation right now; or maybe it’s just my momentary perspective…. I do need these drinks right now, if only to distract my brain from the abrasive rash forming on my inner thighs.

“Well, thanks again. I really appreciate it.”

And I do appreciate it as I slip out the back door to the patio to think some more about perspective.

The Zen Buddhists say to “judge nothing.” To see all as life, without duality.

So I adopt this perspective for the moment and take a long swig of whiskey. I hold it in my mouth for a while, letting the alcohol drench all of my taste buds. Slowly, I swallow it’s gentle burn down my throat.

I let the alcohol sit in my mouth like a tincture; letting the medicinal properties seep into the porous membrane of my mouth.

Anyone observing may think I am contemplating the “swallow.” Wondering why my process is less smooth and desperate as their own, as they urgently suckle the heads of bottles containing weak watery beer. They drink it like they need water, like a hungry baby at the nipple.

I am outside, and no one is here. No one to watch or judge.

The air is thick with humidity and the clouds compound into a thick grayness above; growing heavy with precipitation, the thunder begins to take over.

I smile at the age old vision of God and his army of angels rolling bowling balls down an infinite bowling lane. Each roll of thunder, a ball. Each strike of lightening, the strike of all ten pins. After some time, it begins to hail. Perhaps this is a sign of a Heavenly game of 300, and the hail is celestial confetti falling to Earths floor.

The hoots and hollers,  vibrating clouds, reverberate the cheers of a job well done. The Heavenly Team has won the League Championship.

Unbeknownst to them, we sit like fallen angels, watching as our flowers are beat free of their petals, and our cars become dented with new geography.

A few people now have gathered beneath the rain shelter. We chat about the weather avoiding conversations that dig much deeper. It’s okay… I didn’t come for more than distraction from my physical malady; which I almost successfully mastered, until I again remind myself of the impending four miles.  Four Miles… for miles.

 

I take my first apprehensive step toward home.

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I Make Hats.

elfhatI make hats.

WIN_20141121_145656

I make hats, like masters of clay, sculpt. I pick up a skein of yarn, and it speaks to me. I don’t over think it. I let the colors mash themselves into masterpieces. I make hats.

pinkbowfuzz

I make hats for those people who love a splash of color against the Pacific Northwest sky. I make hats warm enough for a cold night in Vail. I make unique hats, no one else will have.

I make hats, with out patterns. I make hats by accident. I make hats with the same sincere carefree nature, that I do with my paintings, or my writing.

blueberet hat

I make soft hats. Warm hats. Hats for any time of the year. I make hats because the head is a nice place for accessories, especially when they have a function… or two, or three.

Some of my hats can be worn more than one way, or serve more than one purpose. It depends on the hat. I only make one of a kind hats. No two will ever be exactly the same.

I make hats as a warm expression. A bold statement on a dreary day, or a compliment to a colorful sky; my hats speak to the uniqueness of the individual wearing it. My hats are pretty rad.

bearhat

Fit Body Boot Camp: Day Five (help i’m alive)

 Lyrics for Help I’m Alive By Metric
It’s FRIDAY!!!  I made it a straight five day run!! And, guess what?!?! I am still alive!
My body is sore, and tired… my brain has slowed down a little from the hyper-drive it was whirring at last Friday, when I was anticipation of my first day at Cheyenne Fit Body Boot Camp.
I have discovered that most of my anxiety was about attempting to make it to the 5 am class, and the need to have to set an alarm for that to happen.  To solve that problem, I decided to commit to a time that is actually more conducive to my natural schedule; so now I can tell people I have got to go get, “My Nooner.”  Yes, folks, this IS the MOST action I have seen or had in YEARS! (wink wink)
It has been a pleasant diversion to have something to look forward to on a daily basis that gets me out of the house, and around people with a common goal.  It has been very interesting and insightful interacting with fellow Fitters in our private online accountability group.
This is something that most people who go to a regular gym probably have never experienced.  We literally have access to 24 hour accountability… if you have the connection to the interwebs, you can get a pretty rapid response from some one.  It’s pretty cool.  Go to work and tempted by birthday cake?  Someone will remind you of your goals.  Eat the cake anyway?  Some one will remind you, that you are human, and to get over yourself and get back on task for the rest of the day and week.
It’s not even tough love, it is a support group and a common unity.  I haven’t been in one of those for a while.
Five days isn’t long in the greater scheme of things, but it does bring me five days closer to how I would like to look and feel.
On October 2, 2013 I made this blog post, I want a better body, I want a better mind.
Many of the things I wanted THEN, are attainable by going through the Fit Body Boot Camp.  I didn’t know about the program then; and even IF  I had… I probably wouldn’t have gone anyway.  I wasn’t mentally ready, I hadn’t reached my rock bottom.
I have literally felt super high all week.  I am excited at the fact that this is going to continue to challenge me for as long as I choose to continue… No boredom here folks! I look forward to getting more into the diet end of things, in order to systematically change my bodies current state of affairs.
I’m going to tell you another one of my reasons why this excites me; I am kind of addicted to “before/after” pictures.  When I was in high school I was an average sized girl, I have always had big thighs and hips.  I wanted to get all my gym credits out of the way, so I took a weight lifting class, along with regular phys. ed.
I found myself in the weights class with a bunch of football players and wrestlers.  The coach had us all on one program; weekly maxing out. At my peak I could squat 320lbs. and dead lift 120 lbs.  As proud as I was of my strength, I hated how I looked.  I was building muscles and not burning fat.  I later learned that I should have been doing more reps with less weight. And, that the coach wasn’t worried about the body prerogative his female students.
Eh, you live and learn I guess.
Lucky for all of us our bodies are pretty malleable things, and if we set them up for success, they will usually follow suit.
Back to those Before/After photos; have you ever seen yourself in an old photo and thought, “hey I didn’t look so bad back then, I was being hard on myself,”  or the opposite “what the hell.. I don’t even recognize myself”?   I sure do.  Well I want a new one.  One that I look at and say “DAMN!”
And with that, I can’t even think of an excuse you might have today.

The Twisted Dichotomy of Body Image

Why is it, that when I feel bad about my body image, my girl friends are the first to tell me I am beautiful, vibrant, and powerful; and my guy friends will say, ” yeah, I know that feeling. It sucks.”

Men interested in being my lover, will respond much like my girl friends.  Combating my personal displeasure with compliments.

The other day, my friend Brandon and  I were talking on the phone for an hour and a half.  We spoke about dating and sexual relationships that we have had.

He recently met a girl through the internet dating app, Tinder.

I expressed a desire to get laid, but not in that willy nilly way that unaware people often do, by lowering their personal standards.  And  yet I see my own oxymoron by feeling I have already lowered my standards by “letting myself go.” Feeling sick of my body lends me no courage to be naked with anyone, strangers and myself included.

He told me to “just do it!”  And when I explained I feel fat and gross, he said “that sucks.”

Perhaps it is my idealism getting out of control, but I want my male friends to respond with the same compassion as my female friends.  I want my male friends to reassert that they find beauty in me… even if I will have a hard time swallowing it in the moment.

Now, just maybe that is too much to ask.

Our society has been brainwashed by unreasonable expectations.  The thigh gap, a flat stomach, no extra pounds to be found; ignoring how those traits aren’t always heredity or healthy in how they are acquired.

Brandon’s mother Trish, who is a friend of mine, admitted that she unknowingly at the time, raised her sons to be “fatist.”

She admits now that in her youth, she would constantly harp out loud about strangers and even her husbands fat, and their need to lose weight.

For her, I believe this is a byproduct of living in Southern California, home of unreasonable aesthetic expectation.  Land of hopefuls wanting acting roles, and modeling gigs.

I have never been a skinny Minnie, and I admit, I too have been “fatist.”  Not so much about other people, but for myself.  When asked my greatest fear, I would respond, “getting fat.”

I would say I have an average middle American body.  I can still see my private parts despite my belly pooch, and my boobs stick out further than the pooch.  So that’s good, right?

In the last three years of living rather sedentary while taking care of my grandmother, that pooch has become more defined, and this scares the shit out of me.  I can’t find a pair of jeans that will fit appropriately over my thick thighs and my ghetto booty.  I find myself at the brink, of fat.

I recollect the quote, “If you want to know how you’ll feel tomorrow, pay attention to what you are thinking today;  If you want to know why you feel the way you do today, pay attention to what you were thinking about yesterday.”

It’s like the body has a 24 hours process time to manifest thoughts into physical proof.

Have you ever spent the day obsessing on a pimple, telling yourself “My skin is suck a wreck!”  Only to wake up the next day to find the condition has gotten worse?

I have.

There is much to say about loving and appreciating oneself.

The first thing I can say, however, is we are not taught to appreciate ourselves or our adaptability.  We live in a society  that seeks stable permanence and actively believes “pain is gain.”

We are taught to seek external praise and appreciation, and in return we are not taught to believe it.  Only to skeptically accept it.  No wonder people feel so unfulfilled.

Some of my previous responses to the compliment, “You look pretty.”

“No, I don’t.”   Denial

“Ohhhhhhkay…” Sarcasm

“Whatever.”  Brush off

“So what do you want to eat later?”  Change the subject

*Blank stare, silence, walk away*  Avoidance

“Uhh, if you find cows pretty.”  Self Deprication

How hard is it to just say, “Thank you”?  Really hard.

How hard is it to say, ” Damn straight!  Thank you!” ?  Damn near impossible.

No wonder our male friends find hesitation in complimenting.  We find far more negative responses toward kindness and appreciation than we do positive responses.  That’s got to get old and tiresome.  And for me, it has.

There is a resurgence of people who want to celebrate the divine feminine.  Most of them are considered “new age hippie types.”

The Dove company has created an ad campaign attempting to get women to see their true inner beauty, while selling soap and body products.  Needless to say, I am skeptical of their real agenda.

Advertisers don’t advertise because they genuinely care about making people feel better or live better.  They advertise to sell products and illusionary life styles.  They advertise to make money.

A tried and true method of advertising to make money is to either make people feel worse about themselves for not using a specific product, or to give a false sense of security that is held in place by using a specific product.

People in advertisements are paid.  Most likely paid actors.  There have been Vegan actors in McDonalds commercials; “rehabilitated” fat women with low self esteems staring in Jenny Craig ads.

It’s all an illusion.

Personally my confidence and esteem don’t come from any product I can buy.  I see through the illusion of advertising, and my confidence comes from within my skin.

My confidence on a daily basis lays on the contingency of how my hair, body and skin look to me at the time.  Whether or not I can pull my outfit together, or if my hair will curl, or if I can cover up my blemishes with out exacerbating my flakey broken out skin.

At the end of the day, the only products that will help, are wholesome natural foods.  Not make up or clothing, or weight loss pills..

I, like many women, cave at times to the illusion of advertising.  Hoping for a quick fix and a boost of instant gratification.

If I become more aware of myself and the situation, I see that I should be able to muster up my own instant gratification.

I am alive, I am mobile and malleable.

I am not advertisement “perfection,” but I am, the perfect me.  The one and only, (at least so far as I know in this dimension).

If I am able to breathe, move and think; then I am able to change and adapt.  Adaptability becomes illusive when we keep ourselves boxed into who we think we are.   The walls of illusion are permanence.

I have had the blessing of living many different lives in this one life time.  My body and mind have adapted to each newness, not always in my perception as “positive,” but adaptable change nonetheless.

Most of the changes I’ve deemed  “negative” have been a byproduct of negative self talk.  A gut reaction that is usually in the vein of denial; sarcasm, self deprecation, avoidance or ignoring.

We ALL want to feel good about ourselves and each other, but the programs we’ve been fitted with support competition and comparison.

We are not taught to look in the mirror and see the positive.  We are taught to focus on the flaws and then to unabashedly pick at them; to confirm what we see with negative self talk.  Only then do we walk away feeling shitty; full of self doubt ready to be shared amongst humanity like contamination.

We know we don’t like how it feels and yet we don’t know how to eradicate the problem.

I am reminded of a viral video called “Jessica’s Affirmations.”  The cute little curly haired blonde girl standing on the counter top in her bathroom, in front of the mirror.

“I love my hair, I love my mother, I love my sisters…”

” I can do anything. I can do anything good.  I can do anything better!”

That video went viral not only because it is cute, but because it was the actions of a Master.  It was how we all wish we could be, but what we do not allow ourselves; the freedom to be, based off of a life time of stored apprehensions and self loathing.

We accept little Jessica, positively affirming because four year olds are cute and they don’t have the same acquired emotional baggage as an adult.

We laugh and cheer her on because we’ve lost some hope for ourselves, but we can believe in a child.  A child like that, is bound to “do” or “be” somebody, someday.

I have written about emotional baggage a lot over the years.  How we carry it with us though it no longer serves our best interests.  Baggage can become it’s own addiction.  Emotional hoarding.  Or emotional masochism.  Tearing and picking at ourselves when we look in the mirror, and hating ourselves for it long down the line.  Unknowingly adopting attitudes and belief systems that support self abuse and self suppression.

How cool it seems, to be to appear coy, withdrawn and disinterested.  Emotionally caving to a pervasive belief that “IF it SEEMS too good to be true, it probably IS.”   The old adage, “Don’t get your hopes up.”

So we have stopped hoping so much .  We redirect our energy in to squelching our own excitement for fear it will all fall through, and fall apart.  We become accustomed to mundane.  Thinking magic only happens to beautiful, wealthy movers and shakers.

But not for us, normal, average people.

Most people just want to fit in; to not feel left out.  And in that, they compromise their own unique magic, mystique and specialness.  No one wants to stand out too much, fearing that if they do, they’ll be made fun of or isolated.

So we throw ourselves into any sort of conformity and find ourselves still feeling wanting, and dissatisfied.

Would I feel perfect if I weighed 125 pounds?  I don’t know, I’ve never been there.

Do I think I would feel better about myself?  Probably, there are a lot of clothes a girl my size should not wear, that 125 lb me would love to strut around in.  But I know even that would not be enough.

To not worry about my weight, or how I look would inevitably trade off into some other mental fixation, whether it would be the process of maintenance, or perfecting other issues I find with myself.

For each thing we fixate or obsess about, and then remedy; there are three new concerns that are ready to take its place.  Let’s face it, we all want to be, do and enjoy more than we allow ourselves.  It can turn into a stew of self regulation.

“I can’t eat that.”

“I can’t go there.”

“I can’t do that.”

Really?  Is there a force field keeping you from it?

We create our own mental force fields.  We reinforce them with our negative affirmations and synthesized mental stresses.

Why do we do this?

A fear of unconditional love seems to me, to be the culprit.

There is a lot of talk about a need for self love, unconditionally.  However, our society has such distorted views of love to begin with.  It is a struggle to know exactly how love, especially unconditional love, feels.

We mistake lust for love; liking for love, abuse for love, restriction for love, and jealousy for love.

I like the adaptation on the golden rule, ” Treat others the way you want to be treated,” into ” Treat yourself the way you would have others treat you.”

Meaning to me, why would we shit talk ourselves, if we hate the idea of others shit talking us?

We dive head first into self deprecation almost as if to beat others to the punch.  It is an overused modality in stand up comedy.  To be the first one to talk down about ourselves in order to shelter our hearts and egos from the disaster of the potential observations of our fellow humans.

In so doing, we ignore the fact that EVERYONE has their own special set of insecurities and fixations.  We ignore that everyone is capable of  self effacing grandiose

Each one of us is the center of our own universe, and under the microscope of our own insecurity we are blinded to the peripheral view that deep down there is nothing extremely different about anyone, unless we deem them that credit as an individual.

We all struggle with fear and self doubt.  We isolate ourselves in the illusion that everyone is better or more adaptable, or magical than the “I” who stares in the mirror.

Everyone is taking an individual path leading to the same place.  That place is the understanding of infinite self love.

We want to love and be loved, we just don’t know how to do it, find it, or feel it.  We are not programed for easy acceptance of it.

When I try to imagine what self love looks and feels like, I think it comes with the appreciation of waking up alive everyday.  Looking in the mirror and saying “Hey Beautiful, I love you!  Today is going to be a great day because you are in it!”

It is the self encouragement to be courageous and do what is best for the self, because we all want the best, but we have horrible role models and frankly, we don’t feel like we deserve it.

There is a common misconception that we have to earn what we deserve.  That there are some illusive hoops we have to jump through in order to prove to someone outside of ourselves that we are worthy.

Each of us are born with the gift of life.  Within that gift we are ENTITLED love.  Some of us start with really rough beginnings which makes that path to Love a bit more rocky.  Especially loss or abuse in the formative years before self awareness comes to play.

These can be amazing learning curves that catalyze the question of what love, actually is, and how it is asking to be expressed.

Learning curves can be amazing teachers that show us what Love is not, and how to recognize it through feeling and reflection.

Sadly though, those same learning curves can also lead to a life time of turmoil and self doubt.  Extra long term baggage.  It is easy for some people to get caught in the eddy of victimhood.  To swirl in an endless circle of self effacing pain.

“No one likes me.”

“I’ll never find love.”

” No one will ever love me.”

“Nothing ever works out for me.”

“I am a failure at life.”

“I am shit.”

“I am ugly and fat.”

“I hate myself.”

“I am so fucked up, no one will ever want to be with me.”

“It’s just the way I am.”

“Nothing will ever change.”

Most of that is spoken through the unhealed wounds of childhood.  The broken inner child whose faith in Love was derailed before it had a chance to mature.

These are the sins of our forefathers and the examples set by our foremothers.

There are people in this world very aware of these facts and products of our history.  These are the people actively seeking to remedy hundreds if not thousands of years of passed down self hating logic.  These are the people seeking to teach the next generation a more positive and fruitful way of living and loving.  I think they will succeed.

As a whole, humanity is sick of oppression both internal and external. We WANT to see the magic in ourselves and each other.  We want to thrive together with out the insanity of comparative competition.  We want to live without the fear of loving ourselves and each other.

Deep down we want what is best for everyone.

Ubuntu.

Where Are Our Heros?

Who do you look up to?  Why?  What endearing or respectful qualities does this person carry, worthy of being a hero?  Do you, yourself also harness these qualities, or do you envy them and worship them in others, whilst not embracing them into yourself?

Let me tell you about my Hero.

Now I am not a religious person.  I do not buy into secular doctrine presented through Churches or religious organization.  I have spent some hours in the bible, and at Bible College.  I have continued my research into spirituality and faith through my own accord and intuition.

My hero is whatever the embodiment of Christ Consciousness is.  And let me tell you, he ain’t no hippie dippy Jesus.

Take a moment to check out this video, to see Christ Consciousness in action.

The Best NEW Trend on the Internet

Notice these guys and their sense of humor regarding all the useless trends out there.  AND then notice the authentic looks of surprise and humility of the participants in Making Homeless People Smile, WORLDWIDE.

This video makes me cry every time, because it is genuine.  And it mentally takes me back to a time in my life when I was 19.

I was attending Manhattan Christian College in Manhattan, Kansas.  Just a Podunk school of about 500 students directly across from Kansas State University campus.

Now I only attended MCC for a semester.  I left with a 0.0 GPA, because I stopped going to classes in order to fulfill what I felt to be actual work from the level of Christ Consciousness.

It started out as a birthday trip to Kansas City, Missouri.  I had a bunch of birthday money, and my new best friend, Natasha, in tow.  We hoped to get into an 18 and over club.  We hoped to push the boundary on this new level of perceived freedom, being away from home for the first time.  Pushing boundaries.

I rented a hotel room, we called a cab… and we went into the city for fun.

The night never really panned out as we planned.  Early into the evening we were kidnapped by our cab driver… who was from foreign country.  And maybe things got a little weird because we were pretending to be something we weren’t… we were playing roles in this new city.

We never made it to a club.  We did however walk around town on this Friday night… and I saw something I had never really seen before…lots and lots of homeless people, and lots and lots of young drunk student types.  And in this situation of newness, I was witness to yet another thing I was not prepared to see.  Those young drunk students, being incredibly mean, rude, disrespectful and inhumane to the homeless population.

I was shocked and disgusted.  I had my own experiences with bullying, but this was like watching some sort of sick torture.

Students purposely spilling soda on sitting homeless beggars.  One young (I hesitate to use the word man) maliciously kicked a homeless vet’s hat, which was sitting on the ground full of change.  The snickering fools walking off as the Vet scrambled across the sidewalk to gather his lost money.

In that moment, some thing flickered inside of me, and in a warm rush it is as though I stepped aside in my own body, and the Spirit of something Bigger came into my heart.  It was as though my consciousness had blacked out, and been replaced by the voice and Spirit of Christ.

First thing I knew was, these people need to eat.  They need some food.  I have money.  There is a pizza shop.  I can feed them.

So I walk up to a pizza shop window called By The Slice.  The guy behind the window is named Jude.  Hey Jude.

With confidence, I ask Jude for two large pizzas.

“We don’t sell whole pies here.  We only sell by the slice.”

“Well, I am gonna need two whole pizzas.”

“It’s going to be pretty expensive.”

“I don’t really care, there are some homeless people out here that need to eat.  I need two pizza’s and a large Mountain Dew.”

Jude smiles, while shaking his head.  He tells me it will be a couple minutes before the next pie is out, and he proceeds to ring me up for $91.11.  Damn most expensive pizza’s I have ever paid for.  But whatever, it was birthday money… and what was I going to do?  Probably buy an over priced t-shirt from Ambercrombie, just because it says “Wyoming” across the front?  Yeah, probably.  An Ambercrombie shirt is about as useful as planking.

While all this is happening, Natasha is in the run around of my journey while following what ever this Celestial Whim was.

I got the pizzas and walked back to the two Vet’s  who had their change kicked around.  I stood above them with the boxes of pizza.

“Would you like some pizza?”  I ask.  I am confronted with looks of horror and skepticism.

“Don’t tease us.”  One responds.

“I am not teasing.  Would you like some pizza?”  I open the box and one of the men pulls a piece out, and hands it to the fellow next to him, and shuts the lid to the box.

“You can take more than that… you can take as much as you want.”  I open the box again, and let them take out two pieces each.

The man who had not yet said anything now looks at me with tears in his eyes, and asks “Are you mad at me?”

And in this moment, I know he is not talking to ME, but to the Spirit within me in that moment.  That warm Spirit which was taking over, while I stepped aside and outside above myself, watched and listened as the words “No, I am not mad at you…I love you.”  pour from my lips.  Something I, myself, would NOT have said.  He begins to cry.

I connected with this man’s eyes. I saw his soul and he saw my sacred heart.  I continued down the road, looking for the desolate hovering in corners.  I shared what I have to give.  Few people asked for money, which I did not give, because the goal was to make sure people were fed and monetary charity is not my style.

This all happened in September of 1999.  I had only been at school a few weeks… but this trip changed my life, and it changed me.   School to learn who Christ was, no longer seemed like the real way to experience what that love and compassion are.  I felt stifled living in a bubble of people who tout a title called Christian… but would only actually do service in community a couple times of year.  Helping people seemed like it should be a daily exercise in spiritual growth and development.

The college had some strict rules on leaving campus.  So I lied, and told them I was signing out on the weekend to visit family.  Really I was renting hotel rooms on credit, and using the money I made at the Christian radio station I worked at, to buy bread, peanut butter and jelly; bags of chips, juice boxes, cookies and packages of granola, plastic sammie bags, brown paper lunch sacks and napkins.

Then I would drive it all to Kansas City, and stay for the weekend walking around alone down town, looking for people to feed.  I never felt like I was in any risk of danger, because I was certain whatever was working through me is INVINCIBLE!   It was a huge practice in sacrifice and faith.  It has been from that point on in life that I knew I was to live in Service to Humanity.

I probably took six trips to KC that semester.  One of the excursions a young man, about my age was curious as to what I was doing and why.  And it created the most beautiful dialog, because to him, it made sense.  And in that moment of it making sense, he wanted to give everything he had in order to help.

“Should I give them my money?” He asked.

“I don’t give money.  I will buy something for some one if they express need, however.  I think that charity through money is like trying to build a garden without getting your hands dirty.  It is easy to just give some one some money, and then they go off and buy beer or drugs… you just send them off on their way.  But when you feed a person, or take them to buy something they need, then you are actually participating in service.  You are sharing soul space.”

“Have you ever had anyone be mad at you for not giving them money?”

“Yes.  And I don’t care.  If they get mad they obviously didn’t want what I have to offer.  I can’t offer everything to everybody, but I can share what I do have and try to share it wisely.”

“That makes a lot of sense.”  And when he walked away, I felt certain his heart had been stirred.

Over the years my service has changed shape and form.  But it is the lesson of Christ Consciousness and the Righteous power that we have through harnessing It, which can create a landslide of change in fairly short period of time.

If you believe you live a life of righteous service, and yet you have never felt the Infinite Power of True Selfless Love… you have been living in a delusion, and perhaps you should step outside of your comfort zone for a while.  There is nothing wrong with Humility and there is nothing wrong with getting dirty every once in a while.  Selfless service is rarely a neat and tidy procedure; but I guarantee that afterward you will feel lighter and with a new sense of strength and purpose.

At What Point Am I REALLY In Another Dimension… and When Have I REALLY Gone Batshit Crazy.

Life sure is following it’s own course in my life.  The ups and downs though, have found themselves in synch with a symphony which I know from some other time and reference which is not quite reachable…. and so in that way I am like my grandmother who forgets things.

Today my grandfather died… my aunt, his daughter only died a little less than a month ago… I lost my mother when I was 4, in January of 85, on her mothers birthday…

My family speaks so blatantly through their Spirit, that it seems silly any of them would have sadness…toward Death.

Especially when it is a long, drawn out process…. but they really, the sadness they have, is regret.

Things not done, or said.  Wanting more, choosing to give less.  Asserting Life that did not include those who no longer Live with Us.

This is hard for people.  This is a life transition which holds so much weight.  We weigh out our years and experiences with people.  We weigh ourselves in our present moment and see impact of past…. we want more.

And today, my partner, in a (I think funny way???) asked me if I should get my head checked out.

Death has been a part of my life since before I was old enough to go to Kindergarten.

My most significant point of reference for life, was wiped off the Earth.  My Mother.

I have spent the last 28 years in Reflection, Contemplation, Observation, Critique, Judgment, Assessment and Theory to try and understand some sort of Pattern or Reason to this Malady.

Perhaps you are asking about all the words with capitals, but they have been anthropomorphized by my Experience and therefore Attributes vs. Abstracts.

I have met these Attributes, and I have concluded that Love is Essential.

It is when we are able to see HOW and WHY of any one or thing that Effects Us personally… as to the greater Wisdom.

How does one Create?  One learns how things work and why; their personal influence and it’s Overall Effect on Vision…

Things change.

In my sense of crazy, the voices have gotten stronger…

The premonitions have become more vivid…

People will  tell me to stay off drugs, or to get back on my meds, or to take the tin foil hat off… or whatever…

The voices I have, are of my family on the other side of the veil.

I now have four strong voices in my head…

My mother, who exacerbates my inclinations toward cussing… and loves to love in a sort of crass way… she likes affection, and I fight her.  She also has guided my writing hands for as long as I have chosen to take up writing… which was taught to me by my grandmother, her mother, whose mother (my great grandmother) was a teacher.  My mother also bonds me to her siblings, which other than deep dedication to the understanding, I am like ALL of them in SOME way… I could be seen as reclusive, but also a world Bridger of sorts. My mother set me up to be a world bridger.

My Brother.  My best friend and comrade of youth.  How we tatteled and told so… but he speaks to me through music, as it was a bond, he also tattles through my writing of certain things… and he comes to my dreams in every age of face possible to the incarnation he had in this time.  He was the first death that came through one of my visions.  He showed me something that I would have to be prematurely aware of in order to be able to represent him through my family in their pain… but also to be with them through their pain and NOT be a nutcase.

January of last year, my gramps fell ill… my aunt who had been living at her elderly parents home, was having special treatment for her condition in Denver, 100 miles away.

My cell phone wasn’t working, and neither was the wifi on my computer.  I was about 200 miles away in a rural residential area.  My car was “broken” and I was off grid for a week staying with friends… not really sure what the Universe wanted next.

I picked up a loose WiFi signal from some neighbors and had an hour of internet… I checked my messages and one from my dad said my Grandfather was put in the hospital… I immediately panicked for my Grandma… she is one of the greatest Loves of my life…and for so many reasons.

I had to get my car fixed… some guys who do meth gave it a radiator flush and some other help… I still left with my car smoking and acting funny, only to find out the radiator cap had been left off the car…

I got back into town… my grandma at the hospital with him.. and no one to let the dog out back at her house.

I camped out.  She needed someone there.  I went to her house, and let her dog out, and for the next four months I slept in the same bed as my grandma.  In my grandpas spot, just so she didn’t feel alone,

Sorry to say, but my rather celibate lifestyle and my penchant for sleep masturbation brought an end to that nonsense… I mean I was 31… waking up to MYSELF doing this, with my grams, just a couple feet away on the same mattress, that probably never saw her and her husband knocking’ boots.

Perhaps people just let things slide in the olden days, but I was not okay with it… so the task of cleaning the basement of my aunts hoarding came into play, in order to find a modicum of liberation.

Liberation kind of turned me into a bitchier bitch than I already was…

I got here, to this place, where my grandma needed SOMEONE to just BE there and DO SOMETHING with her… and I threw myself in, so hard.  We played several games of cribbage a day… an old fav of everyone in this house.  Even this was painful… all she could think of was my grandfather and his brother who had only died a year previously.  They had been her partner and opponent.  She was sad… She didn’t like the game as much, even though I was funny and we played hands that were hands neither of us had ever seen.  And, I am pretty sure she had played over  a million hands of cribbage.

I tried really hard.  I knew my aunt was a hoarder before she got there.  She had already been labeled…. While she was in Denver, I talked to her on the phone, and I told her that I believed in her, but she had to let go.  But that I would be there to help her and I had her back… all she had to do was try.

My aunt came home, and I never feel like she “REALLY” tried.  I lost my drive, and gave up on her permission.  I started to go through it anyway and throw away trash… secretly I felt like I was killing her by getting rid of the “filler” that was her material possessions, which mostly just added up in trash shat on by mice or disseminated by meal worms.

I felt like I was digging up a carcass which was pulling out her life force… and, maybe, I guess; because of her condition, I didn’t find pain in it… because I know she wasn’t living or enjoying her present life, and that which she was coveting, was just a past tainted and unattainable.

I kind of feel like I helped my aunt go… but in a very energetic way.  I read her writing and her Spirit was SO MUCH BIGGER and BEAUTIFUL than her ability to exist on this Earth with Dignity.  And that is sad… but truth.  The most honest and beautiful people on this planet, are usually physically and materially less than desirable.  Spirit works in weird ways and our treasures are not of this world… neither are we, to some degree.

The day before my aunt went, I was gifted with a vision… it told me my sister was pregnant with a girl (maybe 2 or 3?) and that my aunt would go.  My sister called me the next morning and I knew her news before she shared… my aunt died later that night.

Most people are not fixated on the Spirit of a person; it isn’t their point of reference for importance.   So when you see another, judgment might make you inclined to be disappointed, it is superficial…  Our Spirit is looking into other Spirits and this is why Love is the transcendent factor.

I judged my aunt for a long time.  She left my cousin, who is five years older , and like a brother to me.  She left him as a near adult, but she left him in her own mess with little to fall back on, but his own reserve and talent.

And he is a success today.  Not only in my eyes, but in the eyes of the community… but what do I wish?

I wish she would have been more honest with herself and those around her.  I wish she would have expressed her intentions.

I wish that I get to see my cousin more often and hang out.. because we get along, and have common interests and history… and we love each other.

My mother, who died when I was four, has whispered in my head, ears and heart; for a VERY LONG time, that We All Just Need To Communicate, And Then The Love Will Come…

And everyone has been fighting it… even me.  I went away from home for a dozen years because I thought I could just Mandie-fest what my family didn’t offer.  While away, I learned I was just enough like each of them, for better or worse, that there was no escape… and when need called me home I HAD TO GO.  I was representing more than myself in a sinking ship.

It’s not because no one tried… it’s just the unintentional anchors are adrift.  We raised a family of amazing, talented, and some what antisocial people.

We raised a family which is so interesting, but also so incongruent.  And that is fine.. but these voices in my head from these people no longer physically incarnate… don’t want it to end like this.  They honor All of It.  And they seem a little forceful to share it, through me….

I want to share it, because I believe it.  I think it is valid and potentially beneficial.  My family is weird and amazing.  I think we could potentially share a lot of great ideas on evolution with one another, IF we could just make the time or share the passion…  It’s what my voices want.

And these voices of my family tell me that they approve and they want to see me truck on… but how far am I willing to go, or try???  My most recent track record finds itself weak and that is a shame… I know I could do better…

Tomorrow, er today is a new day to try and formulate how that can be created.

Reasons Active Un-involvement Is Better Than Activism

Are you the type of person who gets upset and fired up about injustice in the world?

Are you the type of person who will join a cause in order to put your hands in the pot of injustice; in order to stir the contents, and hope the stew comes out better than when you first involved yourself?

Do you throw yourself head first into “causes” which seem to only de-evolve and leave you with a bruised head and ego?

Then maybe you should take a step back and look at so called “activism.”

Activism is in direct relation to Polarity. Activism rarely has any real solutions… rather it is a vehicle for sharing information and through that information polarizing people by bringing smaller groups together, and isolating others through conflict.

Do I believe in Human Rights and Free Will? Yes.
Do I believe Activist groups are really looking out for the greater good? Not really.

Their intentions may seem spotless, but the fact is that they are creating a sort of black hole when it really comes to change.

Maybe you will say… “what about all those people in Egypt who are rioting… don’t you think that is activism?”

Well no, I don’t… I actually see it as Active Un-Involvement.

People who are willing to say “fuck going to work, fuck going to the store, fuck this system! We are gonna rally in the streets and stop the machine by stopping participation with the expectations of our keepers.” That is active un-involvement.

The first reason this is better than activism, is because the only real way to beat any system, is to remove yourself from it. To live life as is right by your heart vs what the mainstream says.

The solution is not to start an “anti” campaign. Anti-campaigns only create more conflict by saying “this thing over here is bad.” By creating an anti-campaign you are actually still participating with the thing you do not agree with. You are not pulling yourself from participation with the other side.

A person can yell against GMO’s all day… but if they are still buying their food from a big chain grocery store… they are in direct conflict of their message.

Proof is in action, not activism. Hate GMO’s? Boycott the grocery store, build a green house and start tending your vegetables.

Invite people to eat them, or to buy starts off you…. That is Active Un-involvement, which offers a non violent active solution to an idea or system your head and heart do not agree with.

I would have to say that sincere “anti- car” cyclists are the most Active in Un-Involvement as it gets… They ride their bikes everywhere. In highly congested areas they get where they need to be faster… their calves are usually really nice, and they have found a very productive solution to staying away from the oil industry. I once had a friend like this who had ” Fuck Cars” tattooed across her calves… so while she was speeding through traffic, the drivers of cars could see her point, very clearly.

Active Un-Involvement is a way for a person to REALLY live their Truth. If you don’t agree with something, don’t buy into it. Don’t give it your energy… instead redirect your energy into the solution.

Activism, like I said, is really great for the dissemination of information… but rarely does it go much further.

Think about how much money has gone into “finding a cure for cancer,” when we have had several all along. People have been fed a placebo idea, that it is some how wrong to question alternatives and fall out of line with corrupt ideals.

People who actively un-involve themselves are free thinkers. They do not rely on a group to tell them what is right or wrong… rather they take all the information into account and think for themselves. These same people are usually very tired of falling into rank when it comes to ideas they don’t agree with, and instead of fighting back… they just drop out and create the circumstances they would like to see.

Now maybe you are reading all this, and you disagree. You think things are just fine the way they are. Or maybe you consider yourself to be an activist and this is just down right sacrilege…

Are you going to start an “anti Madge Midgely” blog? Are you going to funnel your energy into telling me I am wrong? Or are you going just blow off this article as bullshit and go right back to your campaign? Most likely you will simmer over it for a minute and move on, maybe even start your own blog about activism. And that is okay… that is your first recognition that you are capable of active un-involvement.

We don’t have to bash anyone, or any thing. We just have to educate people and allow them to think for themselves with the solution that they CAN DO ANYTHING they put their mind to, and the best way to be active is to just go and do it and see what happens.

We each choose to actively un-involve ourselves in many ways through out life… whether it is the conscious effort to not be involved in gossip, or whether it is a boycott on the Nestle’ Corp. We choose where we want to put our energy.

If you feel a massive amount of conflict in your life… look at how many mental “anti campaigns” you have running through your program. Shut them off. Redirect your mental energy into seeing why things exist the way they do, figure out what works and what doesn’t. Figure out what brings you most piece of mind and heart. Follow that, and start being active with your True Self and not the bi-polar conflict of belief without real action. Educate yourselves on Many Points of View… and then discern the Truth.

dove

Why Do You Continue to Support Hollywood?

mindMaybe it is your once a month date night with hubby or an afternoon matinee with the kids; maybe it is your child going to see the same movie over and over again… maybe you pay for Nexflix, Hulu, and Redbox in addition to regular DVD purchases.

Why do you continue to do this?

What about these stories and characters is so amazing and amusing that you set aside funds AND hours out of your day in order to somewhat sedate yourself for the time of consumption. In order to lose yourself in some one else’s fiction.

Sure, sure, sure… Entertainment makes us feel things, but so do drugs. So does internet access… it doesn’t mean it is making us more conscious or aware. It doesn’t mean we aren’t using it as a blinder to hide from ourselves and to really ignore the inspiration in the act of LIVING.

Are you REALLY LIVING when you sit there for hours on end, consuming the prefabricated dribble of those we view to be gods in their own right, by their individual re-creations of things past.

Not much is new in the entertainment/media industry. Every old classic is being reproduced… but funnier yet, all these old classics are built from archetypal stories attached to Astro-theology.

What is Astro-Theology? Well it is OUR story, in the stars, in the constellations. It is the basis for all Archetypal stories. From Osiris to Jesus all the way to the generic “Hero’s Journey,” which is the basis for much literature.

Tis’ true, there is nothing new under the sun.

Except for each and every one of YOU.

You are each the individuation of a greater creation… You are DNA; experience, nature, nurture, Consciousness, sub consciousness, ancestral influence, observation, interaction, perception, and influence.

All this potential struggle with road maps of discovery and potential conquer; and yet most choose to sell themselves short.

These days it is easy to sell out to self sedation through consumption of too much “entertainment.” And let me tell you, it isn’t just the media, entertaining all these folks.

In the mean time they are forsaking the gift they have been given to really identify themselves as a unique expression; while also accepting that they are very much the same in very generic ways, as is the rest of humanity.

Parents think it is funny when their kids emulate those “stars” they see on the big screen. They disregard the fact they are allowing their children to be manipulated and brain washed… and instead of encourage them to express their individuality, they find it funny and instead film it; adding to the idiocracy by posting those videos online.

I could be wrong, but I doubt it; when I say ” it’s gross your toddler looks like a prostitute and is dancing in such a way that seems disrespectful for an adult woman.” I mean it. And if you want to get upset about it, maybe you should look into the sexualization of children.

Watch this vid for a couple of minutes… think about this industry in which so much money goes to in order to sedate ourselves and live vicariously through stars…

It is an industry full of pain and mistreatment of people. Most people, myself included; wanted to be there at one point in time… I thought I could break it, and expose it from the inside out.

I didn’t even want fame… I would have been happy with a b-movie cult following… I just wanted an honest opportunity to express myself unencumbered. But, truly that is NOT what fame offers. Dues have to be paid to some degree… eventually if it is just money and fame you are looking for… you can get it. But it may not be honestly, and you may not love what you have become at the end of the day.

Hollywood is full of miserable people making a “living” off of faking it.

Movies do not teach people to be their own stars… No, no, no. In fact it is quite the opposite in these days of 15 minutes of fame, and going viral.

Mainstream media is asking you to sell out by tuning in and buying their shit.
You may have an image of yourself you THINK you are portraying, but at the end of the day, there is always an editor. You may not like what you seen in post production. You may be misrepresented.  And if you thought living in a small town was bad, imagine all your flaws broadcast world wide.

The entertainment industry covers itself in the illusion that a person will be able to express themselves, truly as themselves… but actors are willing pawns… what is the desire of end result?

Movies and their repetitious actors cause people to want to emulate, and relate on personal levels with actors, who many times are seemingly unreachable.

What good is that?

I want REAL, REACHABLE PEOPLE!

I am a Real and Reachable Person. I choose to influence humanity by being myself.

I don’t want to read for your plays anymore, or audition for your movies… I do not want to speak in some one else’s voice.

I want to speak mine. My truth.

My Truth wants to see what you have to offer as a unique star in this Universe, acting in the greatest loosely scripted act in his/herstory.

US! OUR INFLUENCE unencumbered by inane programs…

Start actually LIVING like the Star, You Are… and neglect the bullshit of abuse which is the core of what you probably find most entertaining…

You ARE entertaining… Figure out how to honor that and Entertain Yourselves!

Why The “Lightworker” Movement And It’s Marketing Schemes Don’t Move Me.

Money.
Money only moves me through some sort of necessary need when required because of the greater whole which subscribes to such fiction.

Guess what? I wanted a nice bike… and some one ditched a sweet 1968 Schwinn 3 speed Breeze in my alleyway near my trash. All it needs are some new break cables and some break pads, a little polish on the chrome… and shit… it even has a basket. A bike in this condition though old and salvaged, could easily get about 300 bones. Not bad, for something I neither stole, liberated, or bought. I look the local lost and found everyday, just in case someone else stole it and ditched it. It’s been about three weeks and nothing. Quite frankly, I don’t feel terrible about it.

I’m not trying to get all “The Secret” on you… but I have wanted a bike like this for a long time… with out some psychotic wanting. There were no “dream boards” in this “Mandie-festation.”

The “Light working” community say all the “right” things… but, they have given up the dream that ANYTHING can happen… with out money.

What is innovation? A great idea manifest. People are innovating new technology all the time. Sometimes the prototype is made from this and that, and isn’t the highest in recent tech… but it still stands for innovation in evolution.

People who want things to happen, do not require money to make it happen, they just do what they have to do in order to manifest the vision. All things start as an idea, and that idea requires participation. Even big ideas, sometimes only have the participation of one person. That person will participate all their resources to make it real… but at the end of the day, if they are looking for mass production it is going to cost money.

It may help the world; but it will cost some and benefit others. In fact the benefit of it may even monetarily drain the same people it is “helping” while floating those who monetarily supported the project…(i.e. pharmaceuticals.)

Did money invent electricity? Did money design the first plane? Did money grow the trees that build the house you live in?

NOOOOO dude… people with good ideas created these things. And these ideas were gifted on them for free by experience and participation.

Money is fiction. Money is our sour middle man. Money pretends to offer luxury that is actually afforded ALL, because innovation is a spark of the mind and spirit, and the things we create come from what we know already exists. Money is the buffer that keeps us from believing we are worth more, or that we can attain the unimaginable.

Everything has a price tag. Our services, our goods, crafts, foods, and creations.

Gosh, it even costs money to do the most natural thing on Earth…procreate.

Nestle’ wants EVERYONE to pay for their water…

Nothing is “free.”

Except ideas and drive… and those aren’t necessarily free as your conscious must be working to attain them.

The “light workers” were not called here to jump into the system in hopes just their presence there, would change the game. The Light Workers were called to change the game and redefine the standard.

I am sorry to say that they have failed their task. They have jumped down the Orion hoop and sold out. In; Cause, Reaction, Solution… their solution was to join the ranks and pretend that what they have to offer is some how different whilst still selling themselves (out) the same way as everyone else. #buymebecauseIcan’tfigureoutmyownworth.

Money, is the blood on our hands.

Money is what has usurped the people who were called here to change the world; with the lie that money DOES MEAN SOMETHING. That we need to love it and use it because it is “energy.”

That’s like me doing all your work, and you getting all the benefit. “Here is a shilling for your time.”

“Oh,so your bucket full of shillings is worth more than me; though I work hard, and I am alive, a real person? And, since it is your business, and you hold the shillings, YOU are worth more than me? Are we all not priceless in the eyes of creation? Is this suppose to make sense?”

“Oh so I have to behave as a slave in order to have the opportunity to prove my worth?”

I don’t care if it is fiat currency or gold… it is useless. It does not show YOUR WORTH or the worth of anything which you may find “sacred.”

When you try and figure out, “what you are REALLY worth” and “what life/experience means to you”… money really doesn’t define worth or much meaning. In this day and age, it is a “means to an end.”

It is what we use when our innovation and passion have been sucked dry by the leeches who desire to usurp what we all strive for… free will and creativity.

It is the nasty hurdle which keeps tripping people up mentally, physically and spiritually. Every time you feel passionate or potential, this nasty voice comes in with a crippling excuse…

” I can’t do it because I don’t have the money” becomes the mantra of a victim.

Maybe it is knee replacement surgery, maybe it is the trip you want to take, maybe it is the speaker you want to hear…

Always leading back to the biggest and fictitious excuse known to man… Money.

People buy products which are crap because they are cheap.
People buy beliefs posted on mainstream because they are repetitious and funded by crooks who don’t give a fuck…
People buy the hype… because it is trendy, or new, or different.
People are so void of self confidence, they will buy damn near anything in hopes to fill some void.

But from my point of view it just makes those exact people seem cheap, repetitious, crooky and superficial. And in the end, down right, empty.

It seems like these people are trying to figure out their internal space by buying into the external and therefore selling themselves out. Much like a prostitute guised under the title “Good Marketeer.”

And I’m sorry, but that isn’t Spirit. That is Sales. That is the effect of a sell out based on the hurdles of illusion.

Maybe my bike in the alley means nothing to you. But this is just one story out of thousands I have which relate to desire, manifestation and the fact money is fiction.

Money didn’t make that bike. A designer, and potentially a team of people did. And money didn’t make it’s metal handle bars… they came from the earth and some one fabricated the mineral. Money doesn’t make things happen… WE DO. If resilient and driven… WE FIND A WAY, REGARDLESS!

Good ideas NEVER DIE! Sometimes they just take a loooooong time shifting hands because of suppression. Tesla for example. We know his innovation was stolen from him, and he died penniless and alone. Never able to get the credit or see the benefits of his creation. A person who was not looking for a get rich quick scheme, but a human looking to help humanity with free energy. A selfless act of genius. And because free energy doesn’t cost money, it’s only been in the last decade or so where the focus is back on Tesla himself, and what he had to offer.

If your innovation is good enough, people will want to jump on board, regardless of what you have to offer them… Capitalistic minded people will jump on board to eventually make money, because that is how our society is focused. This also is why people take internships. They are willing to work for the experience, lessons, and opportunity hoping to excel by being involved at a ground level and getting an “in”.

EVERYTHING is the same way.

When “Lightworkers” tell me that my problem is with money, and that is why I keep it from me… well I know better. I don’t want money. I want the change everyone else wants. The difference is I don’t think money will make it happen, and in fact it will actually create more hurdles and frustrations for those who are actually looking to make a change, with out worrying about the change they make.

How much longer are we going to allow the derelict others to usurp our innovations and cloak them under the need of fiction called “money”?

As long as people continue to justify and compromise their real purpose here on earth, and as long as they continue to sell out for far less than their actual worth.

The system you loathe continues it’s grip on you, because of the excuses you make for it. The justifications for the unjust things it does.

For me, it isn’t that I hate the system; rather I hate how we have been so lackadaisical in recognizing the only ones who can change it, is ourselves. From the inside out.

You have to be able to see the fiction for what it is, and no longer choose to support what is not real.

I am saddened by all the justifications and lack of action in changing it; basically because there are truly only three needs in humanity. The need for food, shelter and safety. Food is made from seeds, shelter is built from what grows, and safety is a state of mind which is a choice and upheld by community.

If these three simple things were met for all people, in all communities, they would inherently THRIVE! If you are not worried about paying bills and working 5 jobs to feed your family… you inherently have the time and energy to be more creative and involved in the actual activity of LIVING.

Funny thing too… in order to change it, we have to abandon what we have for something else… because obviously what we have is not working for everyone and is getting out of control.

Step back a moment and look at money… for REAL. Would life continue without it? Will trees still grow, water still flow? With out it, would we finally start to explore ourselves and what we have to offer?

Money keeps the stock market moving. Beyond that… it is a puppet, and the same master has his hands on you and the money.

Cut your strings. Think for yourself. Make the unimaginable happen by the amazing reserve of energy you have been given by the gift of life, provided by an abundant source which never runs dry. The only thing that keeps you from stepping into the unknown is fear. The only thing that makes you pad your bank account is fear… seriously, fear is no state of mind to teach your children… and fear is no mindset for making decisions.

Fear restricts potential and fogs the mind from seeing opportunity.

Let go of fear, and see what happens… because fear like money; is fiction.

My Essay on Personal Experience with Resting Bitchy Face: An Aching to Rise Above It All.

I want to say it has only been a recent thing… but if I did I would be lying. In fact, the only way I could justify it, MAYBE, is to blame in on the fact that people are basically bound to live longer, and so, what is 32 years? It’s recent enough, right? I mean in the BIGGER PICTURE. And geez, don’t get me started on potential past lives… so what is 32 years of certain denial.

Maybe you have seen the recent viral videos floating aboot, in regard to And perhaps the follow up cure “FaKing It”Sadly I am one of those women. I use to call it “The Melancholy Look’, but apparently was not so catchy in these days where things are far more generalized.

Let me tell you, I know this face. I have had this face since I was born. But, what those fake commercials are not telling you is that sometimes that look is, dare I say, warranted?

Now don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I am “hating on you.” But… I may be silently dissecting your deciscions, words, and actions in a somewhat subconscious way… and quite frankly, most people don’t do it, like I would do it… sooooooooo.

There is a lot of room for interpretation and evaluation.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not obsessed with you. No, no, no. I am intrigued. I am absolutely astounded at how absolutely oblivious we both are toward one another, on a level which is quite extraordinary. Not because it is good, or bad…. but because, it MUST; at the end of the day, make us both think… I think.

And maybe that is my problem… I think too much.

But IS there SUCH a THING? No. I also know how to not think at all. I find that a healthy balance of both is nice.

This could also explain this face. When I look at you, like you might be empty confusion bubbling over like an unattended thought… er, pot. That perhaps I can no longer understand what it is you are talking about, because obviously the only thing you observe, is, my, lack, of…smile?

On the contrary! If any of you could step beyond my face and it’s unattended looks, you would find someone, who is really quite content with silence… but also fond of laughter. And perhaps those are my two extremes.

If we can not share in depth, than I will prefer to love you in silence. If that fails and all defaults to superficial emotional fluffing… I will resort to humor.

When my face looks highly critical and judgmental… it’s because SOMETIMES it IS.

I mean, come on, I am no stranger to conflict, weirdness, and my own emotional/hormonal swings. I assess everything from the stand point of a life guard, which by no coincidence was my first “real job.”

I am assessing the situation, to know how to react. And sometimes, my synapses get fried at the fact, I realize; I HAVE NO TRAINING IN THIS ARENA of the moment.

And it’s fine. I am adaptable… but adaptability doesn’t always come with a smile.

And MAYBE IT SHOULD… right? Good Service; Good Customer Service.

But, I am not your customer. And you are not mine.

We are just people, milling about a planet, trying to figure out “What the Fuck we are Doing Here.”

I refuse to take a pill called “FaKing It.”

I refuse to smile if it is not genuine. I am not here to appease anyone through my physical face and it’s potentially programmed reactions.

I am here because I am very much observing and participating in a process of human interaction which not only feels unfamiliar, but played out.

I won’t lie… sometimes I get VERY overwhelmed with anxiety and confusion. Just like so many other people, I am figuring out how to honor my own detachments and the path of others, in their journey to overcome their own obstacles.

It is hard not to be somewhat motherly, auntish, sisterly, daughterly; to some people… and so hard to display that for others.

I do not “love” soft. I love very, very “hard.”

My heart wants the best for ALL of YOU. Regardless of who you are. I want the best for your Highest and Best.

My face may hide the fact my heart aches, to share understanding with each and everyone of you… My face shows my distaste for fighting through the myriad of superficiality, wasting such precious energy on avoidance. When really; we want to dance in understanding.

My critical nature touches you. But do not be delusional in thinking I avoid such curtsies upon myself.

I want ALL of US to experience our best. I want ALL of US to walk in the understanding that our individual love can emanate far beyond the look on our face… because sometimes love isn’t sweet or charming. Sometimes love and adoration have to sit in the observation of the whole situation… and picking through the pieces is like concentrating on a puzzle.

We smile when we find the next piece. We smile when we finish and see the bigger picture… but the parts in the middle call to closer examination, and plateaus of frustration. These are valid as well.

I look forward to the natural exhilaration of finding the next piece; and in finishing the next puzzle… I look forward to the one after, I enjoy moments in between… I will think as I stand above it… I will think as I pull pieces and try them… I will continue to think when I am away… but I will smile when the small distractions show me; though I am away, which piece comes next, and how we both fit into the picture.

Invisible Immaculant

If I can just sort of spiritually brag for a minute… my life has been filled with amazing, beautiful, poetic, and ironically humorous synchronistic guide posts.

Yours probably has been too, but maybe you have been too busy questioning the latest mind numbing activities to allow your brain to make those connections… I don’t know. I am not you.

I can only say that I have observed that effect on humanity, and it has kept a large portion of people in a saddened arrested development which really can be hard to reverse once it has reached it’s later stages.

I am going to go out on a limb here and say that I have noticed these things occur with frequency and consistency through out my life. I do not say this to seem better than anyone else, but rather to call the attention of those who may feel that is my “tone,” to hear me out and understand why you are so quick to cast judgment on me, if you are.

If you deny yourself the potential of this reality by making excuses for why you have not experienced it and why it can not exist, maybe you should look at that first.

The only thing which limits your potential is yourself, and by denying the potential existence of something beyond your scope, limits you directly from consciously and voluntarily participating in a process of self expansion from many levels.

You can take that in any form large or small, super size or miniscule, and realize this Truth by how hard it may cut you on the inside.

Now, noticed I said ” consciously and voluntarily participating” , there is a reason for this.

These guideposts, I have had in my life, have told me a few things.

They are doing the same for you, but maybe you are not paying attention and listening… they come in various forms.

Main themes for me are preparation for the emotional output of others whether positive or negative. This has led to my self preservation as well as knowing if I am on the “right” or “wrong” path.

People who constantly fall on hard times in their life often times are not seeing the signs given to them, in their own personal code. Things like blame; hate, fear, anger and excuses get in the way, of what otherwise could be a really rad physical experience.

Those roadblocks of emotion can bog us down, and with prolonged exposure they fog our vision toward all the things which are pointing us in our own personal golden direction.

I don’t want to give you some fluffy “BE HAPPY ALL THE TIME” bull shit. It isn’t like that… It is far more real and gritty… and let’s face it; pretty obvious if you give the idea any credit.

I figure, I like to know what’s going on, and I like to have info and facts… well why turn down an extra tool which pretty much makes life less stressful? And the only proof I need is in my own personal experience and the positive outcomes.

Let us also face the fact that potentials are endless… what if you married someone else, what if you dropped out of high school… what if you had that baby, what if?

I almost feel like self sedation is just a way of self prevention. It doesn’t seem to hurt the ability of a person, to exacerbate their already arrested developments.

I use to wonder about each untainted individuals “golden path”… the one they choose that is best of all the options, the path they were on before they end up here…the people they want to meet… how they want to influence the world… and then further down the plan they add the exclusions of a “choose your own adventure.” So a person can have their Spiritual Ideal, but there are a lot of paths and potentials in this world with some free will… so who will we actually choose to meet out of all those Souls we know? And is this why so many people feel separate from their “people,” or why so many feel incongruous from themselves as they have mindlessly milled about in a sedated state?

Where would my golden path have taken me… had things been slightly different? I don’t really care but for the sake of curiosity; and yet I feel so perfect in how it has all played out thus far. I have seen purpose in all of it, and the connections for me are undeniable.

I wrote this story, no doubt. I know all the lines like the back of my hand… and when I see things in my reality, or I hear things in my heart and mind I go with it… and it has not failed.

I am not wealthy in money because I choose not to be… but I never starve, I always have shelter, and IT IS NOT A STRUGGLE to acquire those simple things honestly!

It’s divine like Mary Poppins, when the winds change, it shows me where to go.

And I am not ashamed of how I live my life, because people trust me with the care of their most precious earthly things…animals, children, homes, gardens… and since I have few precious earthly things, I can fully love and give to that which is entrusted with me… and no one has had a large complaint yet.

I am missed when I leave, and life changes for everyone with new light in their eyes, knowing now new things.

I value life and personality. I enjoy silence and laughter in equal part. When I am alone, I am very happy and very content… because I feel you all so strongly, that at times it is overwhelming.

It may always seem I am writing about me… to me… but mostly, it is for you. It is the words you have not yet found and put together like the puzzle pieces of experience which is the blessed benefit of living. It may be the context which makes you stumble at the ability to comprehensively explain your own similar circumstance.

I can’t write a book because the story is not finished yet… and this is why we have the Akashic Record and it’s keepers.

I can’t perform a symphony alone. And luckily I don’t have to… It’s like we have all had the sheet music and we have been performing alone at home mostly. A few practices here and there… to get accustomed to our parts… But now it is feeling like opening night… and everything is aligned in the most brilliant way.

We have been practicing a piece of music which has never been performed publicly before to the scale in which it is about to be performed.

It is curtain call.

When You Come To My Fort

warriorI’m not the type of person, people come to for conventional comfort, when comforting is due.

Most people want a “sit-quiet-and-listen-with-a-box-of-tissues-on-hand-and-be-willing-to-hug-through-it-kind-of-comforter.”

Nope.

I am more the, “let-me-tell-you-like-it-is-because-we-all-know-this-isn’t-a-new-problem” kind of comforter.

Sometimes, I admit, it’s just too much.

I wish I could sit there and listen to all of the crying and madness about certain things… but I really, just can’t.  I have no tolerance for it, I guess.

Why?  Why so, harsh?  Why not tone it down a bit?

Well, probably because I see a MUCH bigger picture at play.  And, sadly, it is tired, old and repetitive.

WE ALL KNOW BETTER!  Really, deep down, core Soul level, we know better.  And yet, we ignore that knowing in favor of taking everything so personally.

I come across as cold, not because I don’t care.  Quite on the contrary.  However, I am irritated that I care, and I am irritated that we still keep making the same mistakes, all the while taking it so personally.

I like the tactical aspect of problem solving.  If you come to me for comfort, then you come to my fort.  In this fort I will share with you tactical solutions toward your problem.  I will not sit idly by.

You are having an internal battle.  I am here to help you with that.  I am not going to sugar coat matters.  I am going to help you survive a battle which is so familiar to so many… and that is the battle of the self/Self.

When people come to my fort for comfort, I am giving them sanctuary to listen to their Self.  Permission to listen on a Soul level.  And this is something many of my close friends honor.

This is why I pick the phone up for a really late night or early morning call.

I am with them in the battle.  I know it.  I deal with it daily… but I keep facing it.  And for my brothers and sisters in those trenches of confusion, whilst still seeking… I will be on hand.  I will help them to safety.

Everyone needs a friend like that.

Endless potential

I want you for a moment, to sit with me.

And find a silence.

And within that silence, I want you to completely forget yourself.

Like a blank slate, or a clean sheet of paper.  Flawless potential.

Let your prejudices subside into a void.  Allow your worries to dissipate like sunlight melting fog.  See this blank slate as an amazing freedom.

No past issues or circumstances weighing upon you.  No worries, or injuries to attend to.  No burdens or questions clogging your mind.  No assumptions to the preconceptions of others.  Nothing, just clean, clear, potential.

Sit with this feeling, just imagine what that would feel like.

Perhaps you have a hard time imagining…

If so, grab a sheet of paper.  Just stare at it.  Ask yourself, “if I was a clean sheet of paper, what would I be doing right now?   I would have no arms or hands, so I can not write on myself to make a list.   I have no legs to get up and go somewhere else, like the printer tray.”

“I am only subject to a draft, perhaps blowing me off the table… or a human using me for something.  Hmmm…how nice it must be to be a blank sheet of paper, just sitting there.  No one expects anything of it.  It has no job to do, until it is needed… Wow, a blank sheet of paper, has a pretty chill existence.”

Sit with that.  Imagine, just laying there all bright and clean, and chill… no worries.

Okay, great, that is a place you should become familiar with.  You may even find a little grin on your face, imagining the lackadaisical life of a piece of paper.

I mean not all paper has the same ends… right… like maybe you are a blank sheet of tissue paper… the kind that fills a gift.  A package that brings a smile or a surprise.  This is a great ends for a piece of paper  and the person it serves… but alas, it still ends up in the trash.

You could imagine you are a piece of toilet paper… it also fills a package, but comes in very handy for several other uses, not all of which are very glamorous but are useful nonetheless.  Still it ends up down a drain or in a waste basket.

You can imagine you are piece of drawing paper, that meets a hand that lays upon it beautiful sketches… or maybe less than refined strokes… and maybe that paper will sit on a fridge somewhere, or travel the world… or maybe it will end up in a closet, lost… or perhaps it will get burned or thrown away…

We are but pieces of paper, filling ourselves up to the very edges of the page.  Ignoring that we are stuck inside an unfinished notebook.  And while trying to get the most out of every minute, and every inch of potential space… we ignore how much we may be wasting, mindlessly doodling the alphabet or some such nonsense which leaves no space for the real purpose we began thinking about paper in the first place.

Endless potential.Image

Are You Kidding Me? You REALLY Believe That?!?!

“Are you kidding me?  You REALLY, believe, that!?!?!”

I don’t say it out loud to anyone… but my brain screams it all the time.
I can be seen silently shaking my head, rolling my eyes back, face toward the sky, hands rubbing my temples and forehead…

I am disbelief, shock, confusion, exasperation, resignation, and sarcastic humor…tightly knotted up on the inside and my inability to understand, what the hell people could be thinking.

A few topics which create an energetic rise in me like this, are things like “the monetary system,”  “political structures,” “religious doctrine…”

If you are a person who is deeply connected to these systems, and feel they are Truth, and necessary ..well then at some point if we discuss it, I am going to feel like smacking you in the face in hopes of waking your ass up.

These three things are the biggest fictions running our current paradigm.  Few people see through it, or fight it, because they have no better solution, and jumping into the void makes them nervous and fearful.

It’s like an abused woman staying with her abuser, because she does not know where she will go, and she is afraid she will never find love or some one who wants her.  Fucked up shit.

Life is sooo cozy for people who have found solace in these times of material quantity, and spiritual slumber.  Believing their worth can be quantified by their possessions, and bank account digits.  Owning all the proofs of material success; and yet, somehow, always coming up wanting.

Neglecting that nagging internal Truth, that the Spirit, just isn’t really THAT impressed with material wealth.

The mind will retaliate… because it is so accustomed to process and program that it COULDN’T POSSIBLY IMAGINE SOMETHING DIFFERENT… so it will argue for the point…

“But money is nice to have. ”

“If we didn’t have government, everything would be chaos.”

“They are doing this for our safety, and freedom.”

“All you have to do is accept this, and you will be saved.”

“But I give a portion back to society.”

“Maybe they aren’t telling us right now, for our best interests.”

“Well at least I have a roof over my head and food to eat.”

EHHH!  Every one of those statements keeps people bound to a reality which no longer really suits them.

Let me ask you a very sincere question…

Do you REALLY believe that the world is full of terrorists, out to usurp your freedoms?

Do you REALLY believe that  there are a bunch of people out to get US?

From what I have observed from humanity, is that most people, want to live and let live.

Most people are not inherently “evil.”  Rather those who display that sort of behavior, have usually been indocternated or imbalanced in some way which causes that reaction in the world.

So if MOST people are not bad… then why the hell do we let the minority dictate how we exist with one another?

Perhaps it is just laziness?  Partially… a large part of it is fear.
Fear of a better idea, fear of failure, fear of self, fear of peers, fear of change, fear of the unknown.

 

LOOK AT OUR WORLD!  The state of affairs is looking rather dim for those of you who still believe the old lies.

Everyday some new information or situation comes to light, with it bringing the opportunity for each person to enlighten themselves.  Most people will not take this journey because it is a painful process… and let’s face it, most people avoid pain at all costs.  And when it sneaks up, what a dominating mistress can she be.
Choosing to meet with Pain on your own terms can prepare you for the process of letting go and transmuting what once was fearful, into something invigorating… besides, battle scars are hot.

Right now, many people are becoming acquainted with Pain in a new way, for the first time in their lives, because they have avoided themselves for a long time.  Submersed in force fed believes.  Finding within themselves a sort of bipolar soul which  aches so much to expand and break free… yet shackled to it’s scared self, afraid of it’s own power and adaptability.

I don’t want to see this any more… but sadly only those who want to help themselves will.  I leave little bread crumbs for those who wish to explore the other side of themselves.

Slowly I have reached a point where I feel bad for those in the world, which continue to ignore their own Inner Knowing, that these structures of control, are only in place to suppress truly Higher Potential.  Watching them drain themselves in pursuit of fiction, when infinite Abundance, clarity and Truth are but a breath away.

Do not be afraid of yourSelf.  Do not be afraid of what you can not see.  But follow your heart, even if it means jumping off the edge into the Void.

The void is all potential…. and this thing you cling to is like a stuffy old box, tired and outgrown.

 

It’s Not Always Easy Being a Skywalker

skywalker

The awkward physical part of me, is what people interact with.   And then there is my internal world which bleeds out into the physical through my words.

I have come to realize, this is certainly a confusing situation for everyone.

When you live life loathing the conversations about weather and the news; it seems only right and personally challenging to take those conversations and speak of them in a manner which actually reflects larger issues.

This is the curse of not being able to step into the shallow pools of existence with out some goggles and a snorkel… to get deeper than the water appears…maybe dig in the sand a little.

I have a very deep spiritual world.  I don’t see apparitions, or anything.  I don’t hear voices (very often.)  But I have always had a very divine internal guidance.

I realized this at a young age, and it has kept me challenged and annoyed.

Logic, process, sensibility, resourcefulness, and creativity are very natural attributes to my thinking.  At times I find it odd that more of humanity are not in touch with these rather insightful and useful intuitive tools.

I wish I could easily share them, as I believe it would make all of our lives easier.  Alas… I must wait.

It can be tedious walking the fine line between the Heaven and the Earth.  I do it, but it tires me at times.  And then other times it is so uplifting, and surreal.  It isn’t consistent, however.

For those who know me, please, cut through the bullshit, and get to the point.  Let us spend our time contemplating the bigger things that matter.  Because all of this stuff that we see outside the vastness ourselves… is only illusory.

Our stories should not begin and end with CNN social commentary, or Friday’s weather outlook and the extended forecast.

I want to know your personal observation of society, and how it reflects the you and me and all those infinite “I’s” out there.

I want to know the weather in your heart and mind.  I want to know why your eyes look overcast when I mention the word, ‘lost.’

We are pits, and crevasse’s, we are pools, and nebula’s of energetic equations.

We are a fabric of humanity which can not be bought or sold at the GAP.

Our laughter tickles the planet.  Upon it we are effected.

How then knowing we are starlight, and sunshine, and all the wonders of science and spirituality bound into this flesh… have we stumbled so hard

How have we become so closed minded and lost…when most amazing thing there is, is Us.

The possibilities we hold in our DNA.. the potential of every choice, the ability to change

in, an, instant.

Please, let us cut through the bullshit… we have so much left to explore

Team Project

dbu4zqhpgyRemember, Once Upon A Time… in school, when eventually the teacher would require a team project.  One in which you were not allowed to pick your own group.  Everyone was assigned to their group by the teacher.

Kids like me, hated this.

Kids like me, knew better than to “team up” with just ANYBODY.

No, I was a hard worker, which meant that I wanted to work with the other hard workers… even if they weren’t my favorite people.  I could still admire the fact that they knew how to get down to business and get things done.  I may have no real social entanglements with my team partners, but we were assured a good grade.

Then the project comes along, wherein, all that blows out the window.

In this assignment, everyone has a slacker on their team… except for maybe one lucky team, who coincidentally usually ends up with less people in the group, and they all happen to be highly intelligent and driven.  I would always wonder why I didn’t get selected for that team.

The project would begin, usually with a slower start.  The people in my group would be use to my directive nature, and sit back, and relax while I take the reigns.  I would provoke participation, only to meet a brick wall; knowing in the end, nothing I could say would change their desire to participate.

After all this I would feel used, and drained.  I would feel as though people were taking advantage of my intelligence, drive, creativity, and follow through.

I hated it.  It filled me full of resentment toward both my peers and my teachers.   Especially the teachers.

I would think, “What the hell is wrong with these people to make them think that this assigned group shit is worthwhile on these terms?”

Things like this continue to happen as we get older and out of school.  The boss who takes credit for the work of an employee, the plagiarizer of work done by great artists and thinkers, left to copy and paste into whatever the slacker can not seem to produce for themselves.  I feel like this about artists reproducing the art of someone else, exactly.

Okay, great, you can copy what some one else did, and make it look very similar, perhaps with just a tiny twist of individuality … BUT HAVE YOU NO MIND OF YOUR OWN?  NO STYLE or PERSUASION?    Are you but hollow husks painted to look like a  full head of corn?

This feeling has run into my spiritual life, which I take far more seriously than any of the bullshit we deal with on a mundane basis.

I have been very consciously aware of my connection to the greater whole of humanity for most of my life.  It is that connection alone which leaves me feeling so disconnected at the same time.  It’s as though I was born half in this world, and half in another; and most of the people around me are not interacting with that “other world.”  They don’t understand where I am coming from, or what I am perceiving.

At times it feels very heavy, because it does not just influence me, it influences us all… I just seem to take it harder than most.

In my spiritual world, I have a job.  But it has nothing to do with money, or notoriety, or even happiness.   It is a job much of being a messenger.  Sometimes I have goodness to share, and other times I am the barer of bad news.  And many times, it feels like “DON’T SHOOT THE MESSENGER.”

I don’t make the rules, I don’t plan the scripting….I just show up, take what I am given and disseminate it to share.  People like me are scattered all over the globe with a tedious job of taking the reigns and leading peers to take a gander at the bigger picture.  To start participating on a higher level.  But we feel in the midst of slackers, who are taking the message too personally and retaliating with spiritual sabotage;  which is such an Earthbound response to knowing that the self is wrong and needs change.

I have to deal with two sets of requirements like taking an Advanced Placement Course.  I have to still mingle with those who don’t grasp the headier concepts.  I have to find patience in dealing with their avoidance.  It really fucking wears me out sometimes.  Imagine living life 24/7… no breaks.  This is the spiritual emotional job I have.  Sometimes people think I am callous, but really I just have little patience anymore for purposeful ignorance.

Now maybe the teachers who are setting us up in these groups… whether physical or spiritual, know something I have not yet grasped.  I mean they must know who strives , and who the slackers are.  They must observe how people catalyze one another, whether for better or worse.  And perhaps it is their experiment toward some sort of social change…. maybe they just think it’s a sick/funny joke.  Either way, we are told, that we will never be given more than we can handle.  I am waiting to see how THAT plays out.

Lately I have felt a tipping point.  I don’t want to help the slackers any more.  There is no excuse for their slacking.  I want them to see that their slacking effects us all, and it puts extra and undue stress on those of us who are already trying to keep balance.  I want to trust that the teachers really know what they are doing, and that they are doing what is best for everyone… but at times those waters are murky.    Lately those waters have been murky.  I want to cash in my chips and to say to hell with it.

But I can’t.  I am not allowed to.  I have to “follow through.”  It’s getting harder, not easier.

If we could all just agree that we are in this together, we all have a spiritual job to do, and show up for… my life would seem less like a losing battle.  I bet you yours would too.

Well then since We are Angels, Shall we Ascend?

Heal Yourself, Heal the WorldSo you found out your an Angel…. now what?

I mean, you don’t necessarily physically FEEL any different…  You may not detect any proof when you look in the mirror… there are no wings sprouting from your backhole.

You haven’t manifested anything from the unknown, instantaneously, or teleported anywhere.

What now?  What do you do?

If you have felt the calling of being an Angel, then NOW IS THE TIME FOR YOU TO SLIP ON YOUR CLOAK OF DIVINITY!

It’s time for you to BELIEVE you are INFINITE.

Now, mind you, not because I say so…. no, no, no, no.

Rather, because there is that SOMETHING inside you which has been speaking to you, even when you were a child.  It was a voice in your heart which did not go away, but may have gotten suppressed and muffled over the years.  Years full of older people, telling you that “it’s all in your imagination.”  and “just be normal like everyone else.”

When I was a child I felt like I was the weirdest one ever born. You probably felt the same way.  So you and me, were sitting next to each other, avoiding eye contact; when our souls just wanted to interact and share Truth.  There were no elders to cultivate these opportunities…

If you listened to your heart through out the years, when others didn’t… slowly you would meet others like you, who continued to listen to their heart.  And taking in the wisdom of Elders, we never had as children, we began the conversations.

We are all in the middle of this conversation.  But so many things in this world are distracting us from listening.  The world without Spirit, is calling to “listen to the bombs” , “listen to the fearful cries,”  “look at the horror before you!!”  “conjure fear from what you see and hear.”

And our hearts want to look away.  But it’s hard to, because what else is there to look forward to?  At least that is what the Distractors want you to believe….

COME BACK TO YOUR HEART, SWEET ANGEL!

What does your heart say?

Mine says ” I WANT TO GO HOME!  This place ISN’T right.  WE are SO MUCH MORE than we allow ourselves to be.”

“Turn away from the Distractors.  Listen to your heart, like a child, like an Angel.”

“Know your divinity and find comfort in it.”

If you believe in Ascension, then now is the time to let go of what is, this distracted horror.

To focus Higher.

There are those of Us, who have known that the only reason We are Here, Now… is because We were needed in order to remind the other parts of  Ourselves ;  WHO We REALLY ARE, and to clarify, what we ARE NOT.

We ARE slaves by choice.

We ARE ignorant by choice.

We ARE STUCK BY CHOICE!

But choice can set us free.

It has been our double edge sword, this thing we call choice.

We have seen our options, our potential paths played out in a plethora of ways with so many faces.

We have reached so far, for so much, for each other.   But what have We actually done for ourselves as individuals?  We have waited on martyrs and saviors, aliens, and governments.

We have individually, each been asleep to the fact that we are not just humans being.

Though we have taught ourselves to master that role.  The cloth no longer fits.  And it is restrictive.

Save yourself in a righteous way.  Treat Yourself with dignity and Divinity.  Then you will be able to TRULY treat others with Divinity.

None of Us were born perfect in this creation.  We had choices to make, and lessons to learn.  We had to choose not to buy into insanity.

Some of you are just awakening to the insanity, and it is potentially very scary.  Do not feel overwhelmed or angry.  Cast fear to the side.

Angels do not live in fear, they live in their Mission.  The Mission may be at times caught in distraction, but the Mission will not fail.

Angels don’t have the same choice as a humans.  Angels have Missions.

They have already chosen the side they work for.  Everything else, is just in the details.

 

asccension

F*$K THIS! (may be considered full of foul language… but I say it’s context is right on)

Image                                                                                                                             Excuse me for being brash… crude; crass, rude, un-Kosher, un-classy, and perhaps even UNACCEPTABLE…. but I am pretty sure I am not the only one, IN THIS BIG yet small World… who at times, thinks; Fuck This.

Fuck it all!  Fuck this, fuck that, and use a whiffle ball bat!

I can’t say what moments bring you to that point, but I DO know I have ’em.  I struggle.  I look at the accumulation of all that is, and see its potential to be so much more… and in the same glance I see all the hurdles and blocks that restrict the way.

I see it every day.  And some days, I feel like a champion. I love a challenge and I am ready to meet any one that may come, head on.  But some days, I just wanna say “Fuck THIS… it isn’t worth my time/energy/creativity/life force.”

It isn’t because I am lazy… but rather because everyday I wake up, I rise with the belief that “Today will be better!  Today I won’t have to give looks of confusion or redundant disbelief, because they will get IT too!  And perhaps today will be the day of harmony!  Finally we can all just get over ourselves and GET ON with Our Next Big Task.”

I get, like two minutes into my day, only to realize….uh well, today probably isn’t THAT Day.  And I know this because I am the first person I encounter in a day… and if I am not, for some reason, bliss-ed out… well chances are no one else is.

There are many philosophical discussions on perspective.  How our perspective, colors and influences the World we see and interact with it.  Cultures far older, honor a system of reflection.  The greater I AM, IS ALL and WE ARE IT, and IT IS US… and so it goes.  Perhaps no One Person is Perfect…but between the collection of our experiences, together we can create a symbiosis of Perfection through Our unique expressions and perceptions.

Anyway… along those lines,  many cultures talk about an up coming “Golden Age.”  A proverbial time many have found intriguing for the fact they feel the same aching, internally, in which says…”Fuck This.”

It doesn’t have to be rude, or mean.  It doesn’t have to even relate to laziness or cowardliness..  Rather it comes from a conclusion, which is far headier than most want to admit to.  It comes down, or rather UP to seeing a bigger picture; which quite frankly may invoke a desire to shit ones pants.

It is the acceptance of our collective nature in a Source, far more multifaceted than modern cultures and religions have given it credit for.  When the Hindus talk about having 33 million Gods in their belief… but One Absolute…  They could be very close to the Truth.  I mean if we are all made of the same star dust; and If We look at Ourselves, We see many faces of God. At that point it seems weird to have such superficial divisions.  (Except for the fact that there are have been those who wish to enslave humanity, knowingly.  And only for nefarious reasons… which we are observing and taking emotional action toward…)

Some of Us are only just now recognizing the repetitive nature of existence.   It’s lessons, our participation, and It’s steadfast nature in conveying impressions of Truth through any avenue.  It is unavoidable.

For some of us,  It seems We have been struggling, consciously, longer than others.

Perhaps this is where competition really stems.  If there is an “end,” then most likely it is “Source.”  Why shouldn’t we rush, and push each other to get there? Like Spiritual Sperm finding the Etheric Egg. Most of Us are in for the long haul, but many of Us are reaching Our own thresholds in a way of in-explainable proportions.

The game is just an old rehash, kids. From every parallel and perpendicular; every story has been played out, far too many times…. EXCEPT,  the ones that include Ascended Masters.

No one gets tired of imagining themselves as some sort of Savior… meanwhile defaulting in  realities mind fuck, in such a way that it relies on some one else to take the proverbial reins and Save, what could be seen as a Sinking Spiritual Ship that is the Hopeless Human.

And that is what separates those who say “Fuck This,”  and mean it as a mantra of not giving up… and those who say the same words, with different tones, resonating in defeat and complete submission to the moment, with out regard to the end result which comes in it’s own way, unprovoked.

I, was a child, who never really liked just chatting about the weather… but I sure did enjoy talking about having control over it.  These are conversations of sages and the Future.  I am by no means calling myself a Sage.  But I will admit to being a voice of the Future, and Let me tell you; The Future is Now.

Sure, sure, sure… people have been saying that for a long time… but never in history (this time around) have We been able to reach such a critical mass of people, so quickly, who see through the bullshit; and know better than to wait on a Savior. THEY= YOU, know You have the ability to Save Yourself/ Us.   You/We are just waiting on the 100th Monkey to pick up the straw, and go with it.

I know at some point, We will get our 100th Monkey… and I will not give up hope.  Just as, in turn I will say;  The journey has been crazy and worth it… and I am here to endure it.  But at times I find We have neglected Our Own Divinity too long.  It’s time to hop on Our Own Soul Train… We have had time to reflect on our past, we have been given opportunities to endlessly rehash… But Now, a new sun on a new horizon, and it is calling Us.

No more fussing and fighting.  Time is calling for Re Uniting.  And we are the ones to live in the New Sun, We are the Ones who bring the blessings of Eternal Guiding.

When I say Fuck This… I honor where we have been… and I get it.

Do You?

When I say I want to move on, it is because my Soul says We Are Bound for SO Much MORE!

May you Master the Fuck Out of This Experience in order to be Confident in moving into the Next .

Submit to Abandonment

portalTake a moment to really meditate on the word “submission.”

What kind of feelings does it convey for you? Can you conjure the words?

Does it leave you feeling some what deflated, and limp?  Weak or powerless?

Maybe it feels productive some how…earned?  A relief.

How about the word “abandon”?

Is the feeling you get from this word visceral?  Deep and wide, like some sort of void?

Or perhaps it makes you feel free?  Without attachment and strings?

Words, words, words.

Perceptions, definitions, placation, sublimation, choices in participation… a positive and negative to every situation…silly souls sitting in stagnation.

Ok, words.  Powerful things.  Creatures with a life of their own, they are; these, words.

Triggers, even… or some may say.  We know through Gnosis words are magic, and organic, and mystic upside down simplistic ways of toying with physical manifestation.

I am doing it now… though through no specific attempt of my own.   This is just something that happens when I step bare foot into the flow that is already occurring.  Tonight, the water is a temperature which sets well with my blood.

In early 2003, I had moved home to “regroup”.  In my spare time I was participating in self led yoga.  I received an unexpected and green Christmas greeting from a friend on the West Coast.

I found it all so inspiring, and the weather so conducive, that despite the 30 degree temperature, I found a cozy spot of intense sun and 90 degree reflection on the deck and  in that Vitamin D bliss orb, I embarked on a transition in my artistic workings.

A pose came to mind.  The simplest pose there is… Childs Pose.  And that pose to me was Submission…. and Abandonment.

Strangely enough, it’s rich quality had absolutely nothing to do with anything negative.

In yoga, Child’s pose is usually a resting spot between inversions or as a way to end a sequence of moves.  When you examine how the body is positioned, knees tucked into the chest, forehead on the floor… arms extended out; it appears a drastic bow.  As the Muslims do when they pray… or as a child looks, asleep.  As though they fell asleep suddenly, submitting to their own exhaustion.

Literally, we think about submission… and to many, it means “giving up.”

Wikipedia says “Submission is the acknowledgement of the legitimacy of the power of one’s superior or superiors.”

This brings up the questions..Hmmm who is MY Superior?  Why would I submit to anything less?  Why does ‘submission’ and ‘submit’ feel like dirty words?  Why am I compelled to “feel submission” from a Higher Stand point? (More about this in a minute…)

Abandon…

How many people feel positive about THAT word?  I mean, honestly I think we could create a whole subculture of people who could associate to the best and worst attributes that would be connected to the the “Abandonment Tribe.”

Of all the situations that have fallen through, for the millions of hopeful souls out there… or for all the parents who died before their child’s ideal prime, only to be blamed in the big cosmic game, that is… Abandon (ment) has received quite a nasty rap… and yet it has SO MANY definitions…

People rarely take time to think and talk about all the things; people, and ideas that they have chosen to abandon over time, in order to grow and clear room for the new.  People have take sick pleasure in the seeming abuse of “being abandoned.”

It is an easy route to sympathy.  It is a scapegoat meant only for rainy day amusement.

Abandonment is SO BIG.  And WAY LESS nasty that we have given it credit for.

To loose all abandon; is to let go totally.  No longer is there consequence or forethought.  There is only the action which exists in the moment.

Many people find that to be dangerous and scary.   Abandonment has earned it’s bad rap through the perception of personal experience mixed equal parts, Fear God Complex.

Think about all the best parts of not giving a fuck what others think.  To abandon worry, or care… many find this irresponsible  and once they have partaken in it, find themselves in a retaliation cycle of guilt.

A person can walk with abandon and submission with out walking at all in negativity…

To walk and not care, to feel bliss and blessed by being regardless?

Yep, it’s pretty easy to do.  In fact your heart already knows how to…  You live and let live… You speak your mind when it feels right, You love despite doubt.  You breathe deep and enjoy the air in your lungs.  You do what is best for your Higher Self… you say “No” when your heart tells you… You cry at the beauty of nature with no shame… You see something GREATER in YOURSELF and in OTHERS… and YOU ARE SICK OF DENYING or pushing it to the wayside.

Submission and Abandon… well they are like two adopted sisters from the ghetto, living with a “good Christian family.”   The bad name branded through perception as a double edged sword.  But really they try just as hard with their lessons, and they show up when you don’t expect them to… and they show, they are not mutually exclusive when it comes to duality…

So Abandon all reason and doubt… Submit to Love, light and Laughter.

Transform the norm to Extraordinary!Image

What if You found out You Are an Angel?

heartSeriously… what if you found out you are an angel?  Think about all the ways that revelation could go down.

I mean, you have to think that however the big reveal goes, has to be in alignment with the shock and acceptance of the Angel being revealed.

Could be really fucking nerve wrecking… earth shattering…strange.

I suppose there would have to be a recoup period… unless they use tactics which play to  strengths within your acceptance… it would probably have to start with the Ego, and use it as an asset.

Right now, all I can think about is cinematic “ghost reveals.”  It always seems people have a hard time finding out they are dead, especially when it is in the movies.   I can only guess that finding out you are an angel is even more traumatic to some degree.

I mean if you find out you are just a stagnant spirit your options are limited…. Angels…. whew… they have BIG personalities… wings…potentially asexual genitalia….ACCESS TO HEAVEN…. big job those Angels have.

So you find out that you have A BIGGER JOB WITH MORE RESPONSIBILITIES THAN YOU DID AS A HUMAN….. What the WHAT?

I know, I know…. it’s because when you think of Angels, you think of Heaven, which seems like it should be super chill and less heavy on responsibly….  But then your big Angel brain is all like, “whoa, Heavy, heady, and Heaven all start with H-E-A… and ‘V’  SOUNDS like a ‘D’ in SOME LANGUAGES…..”

That is when shit gets fucked.

Your brain starts making all these far out connections, because now you have access to the furthest reaches of this perceived Universe….

After decompression comes debriefing.  And that is like the best boring class of EVER…. you leave feeling really ENLIGHTENED… but completely Carfunkeled…. because your heart and brain and now working in tandem with your Spiritual Ego… and it is down right frightening.  Not scary like, but just WHOAH, holy crap, WHOAH! energy pouring out of your words and movements…. it would be a lot to get use to.

Lucky for Angels, time is not perceived as it is here in EARth, so this works to everyone’s advantage.

You go through Angel training camp… learn the ropes… get eased into those wings.

Next thing you know you are back on EARth but in a different way… and to everyone else it is but a blink of an eye… because Time isn’t what anyone thinks it is….

And you stand there, where you left but a blink ago, a different Hue-Man.  Only to be reborn in a moment with some new comprehension of your place, space and face….

Things look the same and some how different.  It is refreshing with this new sense of height; the ability to separate and still be connected.  The experience of  renewed purpose with out a solid definition… the ability to work with the Ego and not fight it.

Words change as they flow from your lips because in this moment, EVERYTHING has meaning… and Nothing is separate from the Whole.

The mission of the Ego shifts to accommodate it’s comrades of Consciousness, Truth, Compassion and Love… The rule book changes to alleviate suffering in an uncommon and New way.

Finding Divinity presents itself as worth while and rewarding.

Just imagine, if You found out You are an Angel.Image

Contimplations on Flow- Sacred Water

Where are you living?

What are you doing?

spirit brain

What are your relationships?

Are you in right relation?

Where is your water?

Know your garden.

It is time to speak your Truth.

Create your community.

Be good to each other.

And do not look outside yourself for the leader.”

Then he clasped his hands together, smiled, and said, “This could be a good time!”

“There is a river flowing now very fast. It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.

They will try to hold on to the shore. They will feel they are torn apart and will suffer greatly.

“Know the river has its destination. The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle

of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above water. And I say, see who is in there with you and

celebrate. At this time in history, we are to take nothing personally, Least of all ourselves. For the moment

that we do, our spiritual growth and journey comes to a halt.

“The time for the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves! Banish the word struggle from you attitude and

your vocabulary. All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration.

“We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.”

— attributed to an unnamed Hopi elder

Hopi Nation

Oraibi, Arizona

Have you heard of my beautiful friend Water?

The innovator of the phrase “Let it Flow.”

You may have seen her, she gets around quite a bit

Oh that Sweet Water

She is quite the mover and shaker

She has friends all over , and all sorts adore her.

She came to be when her two gay Hydrogen Fathers approached their good friend Oxygen with the idea of creation

new life , beginning.

The conversation had been stirring that life had become a little to stagnant and sticky

The Hydrogens and Oxygen felt a need to let in a little flow

And despite their differences, felt a bit like innovators with their idea

It took a while to figure out a formula that worked…

But then those Hydrogen Fathers sandwiched Oxygen between themselves

And Water was born

Out of polarity came this Neutral Solvant

In a sense it was structured improvisation

All the elements working in their own way

Nature tending toward perfection

Despite how odd the occurrence, or how illogical it may seem

Within this improvisation was a creation of malleability

Water was a mischievous youth and a wonderful teacher

She has always been a fantastic imitator, with a photographic memory

She ran wild through the woods blessing all she could touch

Taking in everything it had to offer

Adding it to herself

And then moving on in her unique way

There was no boundary she could not reach beyond

Even when She was out of sight, she was still around

She traveled where ever her heart wanted to go

Growing large and vast

Connecting herself to everything she came into contact with

Leaving pieces of herself behind as to grow her ideas of prospective change

Magical adaptation

Ultimate mobility and convergence

Water was always ahead of her time

The other elements were a bit jealous of her ability to transmutate herself

Not realizing she was changing them, as she changed herself

In any situation or environment she touched

They marveled at her cooperative relationship to Temperature

And wondered at her ability to patiently weather all stages of her cycles

Even when she was at times Cold as Ice, she was still quite graceful

It was a common observation that she could be the most gentle of the elements

And also one of the most threatening.

When I was a child, my grandfather told me, “If you respect water, She will respect you; If you honor Her, she will teach you to Honor yourself.”

And when I would swim within that skin of Water, I would gently pull my arms down on her

Breaking the surface tension and submersing my self inside her

Thinking always, that she would hold me and move me along

As I grew, I became closer to Water, she enjoyed the respect and came to visit often

She would follow me on all my travels and she never complained about the weather

Except to say she thought the Desert had an unspoken grudge

Which was fine, because I rarely traveled anywhere but through the Desert to some other lush region

We talked long about the Desert, and its sense of helplessness that it disguises through resilience.

Water joked that anywhere she wasn’t allowed to hang out for too long, was no place for anyone to be

Some had accused Water of being a bit of a loiter at inconvenient times

Water knows more about this Earth and everyone on it than you could even imagine.

I suppose if she was anyone else she would be a big gossip, but actually she is a fantastic secret keeper

Water remembered every conversation, every thought, every prayer

She always knew my worries and needs

And when recognized would become the most brilliant amplifier

She absorbed every change, flowed through every integration

When others didn’t want to be like anyone else

Water was always totally herself, meaning to say

Water wanted to be EVERYONE and EVERYTHING always, and forever

Which is exactly what she is

Everything and nothing

She loves when you gaze within her shimmering eyes to see your own reflection

Because you are her, and she is you

She was born knowing that

It is her mission to share that knowledge, hence all of her worldly travels

From the tiniest blood vessel to the widest sea

She’s been there, all up in it

Sometimes she shares the beauty she has experienced through her snowflakes,

little perfect geometric shapes

Water captures prayers and praises and changes them into the most beautiful little expressions

And if you stare at the sky and attempt to catch them on your tongue

Did you know you are taking inside of yourself; someone elses prayer or affirmation as it falls back to earth.

You are sharing a piece of someone else, which has inherently been recorded and crystallized by Water?

When you bathe in water you are sitting in a collection of thoughts and experiences and eliminations.

And Water is in bliss when you finally see it for yourself

Water tells us that just as she must come, she must go

And as she gathers along her way, she must release

She reminds us that as we take time to eliminate her from our bodies, through exertion and elimination

She says it’s good to consciously get rid of old thoughts that are no longer serving us

And that it is also a process in the cycle to appreciate and honor

At times it may seem Water is stressed out by life

Angered by the sight of pain and dis-ease

And she will come wailing in from the sky hitting eyes of passers by as they run for shelter

In her seeming helter skelter

And people curse her for reigning down

Thinking, something as gentle as water should never create waves

But some days she can’t help herself. She can be a catalytic force to be reckoned with.

It would be ridiculous to think one with such a brilliant memory would remember to be gentle all the time

Think of all the pain and destruction she has seen not at her own hand

Like tears in your eyes sometimes things need to be washed away

To clean house and start over

She has shared so much of herself with us

And we have unconsciously given back so much crap

That at times it seems like she is attacking

But She, just as we, at times need to purge

What most fail to see is the lesson of our own reflection

Our willingness toward emotional pollution

Our blames and lack of solutions

Our anger at our environment and ourselves

Our desire for help

But our unwillingness to change

What if change just means perspective

Water has been teaching us the whole time that our ability to handle all of this is within our control

But we let go of our cooperation some time ago

Slowly there are those hoping to win it back

They see the potential of fluidity in humanity

They understand the plan at the hand of Water

They want her to guide us

Because she cut her own path

And she constantly goes back to Source

She learns and takes with her wherever she goes

She flows freely, changing environmentally, adding to biology

Always giving back

Constant cycles

Her consciousness is ALL of US

We can not exist with out what she has to offer

Her filing cabinet is the planet,

It is the record keeper and proof that she was here and somehow, someway made a difference

Now is our chance to share our appreciation for Water

If everyday we choose to Bless her, she will be more willing to share her secrets with us

The first secret is this, you are never far from Truth and change than when this you do

Say, “Water, Great recorder keeper, Great Transmutator, Blessed Giver of Life

I honor You, I thank you! I love you, for you are the cutter of the path, the source of moisture to the Earth, Vapor of the Rainbows, A silent White morning Evident in our Sky

You flow around me, through me, and back to the Earth

Constantly changing , and yet always staying in some form

Water, I bless you, I honor you

Thank you Great Teacher

I walk in the path of respect for You”

Thank her daily, and her secrets will seep inside of you

One must ask first for her knowledge

It is part of sacred development to learn to ask for it

And then to be willing to receive what She has to offer

She teaches her lessons many ways, and one must not judge it with any sense of duality

Water is not good or bad

She is what she is.

The reflection of the observer

Blessed to have her as a Great Teacher

Always blessed to be her Student

But this too is perspective,

Water has been known to manipulate change in the perspectives of others

The difference is in the conscious realization

Which is when she says to you “let it flow. Just let it go and ride with it.

Take a deep breathe, keep your eyes open and drop off the edge

Get really, really wet

Don’t fight the current, watch out for obstruction

Use your body, mind and soul

Together

That is the function

Have confidence

You CAN handle this.”

Experience the Paranormal

At this point in my life I have embraced the extraordinary, and now it’s pretty ordinary.  I suppose, if your eyes are open to see; then you will.

As a child, I loved to read.  I loved mysteries, and chose your own adventure.  I pined for the newest R.L. Stine books.  There was so much to be left to the imagination, and I had no lack of that.  I loved the practicality of Nancy Drew, and the hint of macabre given in Christopher Pikes writing.  I wanted spooky, heart racing adventures.

In the fourth or fifth grade, my class went on a field trip to the Fort Laramie.  A rustic old fort, maintained as a museum.  We visited several buildings, examining the living conditions of a soldier versus an Officer.

The building I remember most, was the Captains Quarters, originally designed to be large and decadent housing, it was later split with a wall down the stair case to turn the building into a duplex in order to house more people.

Each Room was walled off ceiling to floor with Plexiglass.  You could see the staging of the room, but you couldn’t touch anything.  The tour guide had just regaled us with the story of the Woman in the Green Dress who haunts the Fort.

On the bed, on the top left hand level of the Captains Quarters, was a beautiful green dress laid out on the bed.  As all of my peers filed out of the building down the stairs, I just stayed there, staring in that room… until the rocking chair began rocking with out assistance.  There was no airflow coming into the blocked off room.  The tour leader hadn’t mentioned that this specific building was said to be haunted.   Upon further research, it has been documented as having haunted activity.

Haunting at Fort Laramie

I immediately left the Captain’s Quarters feeling very chilly on the hot day.  When I got outside the hair on my arms was still on end, and one of my friends asked if I was okay, because I looked pale like I had seen a ghost.  I responded with, “I think I might have.”  Everyone thought it was a joke, but I know what I saw… that rocking chair should not have been moving on it’s own.  I couldn’t find a tangible logical solution, so in my mind, it must have been a ghost or some dimensional residue.

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The Shadow People

So, people didn’t take my ghost story as real.  They probably thought I was being over dramatic, and since no one was with me to legitimize my claims… perhaps they just thought I was a liar.  Who knows?  The weirdness over the years didn’t stop there.

A couple of years later, (I was probably about twelve or thirteen), I went to bed like any other night.  I would shut my door, and go to bed.  My head of the bed was at the west window, and I could see right out the door, as the bed was right in alignment with the entryway to my room.

I felt myself relax, and at some point I feel like I am laying there on my back, and the door is opening.  I feel like my eyes were open, because I could see the nightlight outside of my room.  My door opens all the way, and slowly these tall shadow figures start filing into my room, one after another.

They have no faces.  They aren’t completely opaque.  They are just indistinguishable human forms. I am paralyzed.  They completely fill all the space in the room, and it feels like they are all looking down on me… but they don’t have eyes.  Their shapes remind me of a person wearing a cloak.  My body fills with a panic, and I try to yell for help.

My younger brother comes into my room, from his, next door; and he proceeds to try and get me to wake up.  I can’t wake up. I am not even aware that he is there.  He goes and get’s my parents, and they also struggle to snap me out of it.  It takes a while.  When I finally come to, I am shocked to see my three family members in there, looking distraught.

For years I would ask people if they knew  of the shadow people.  No one I knew had experienced anything like that.  I didn’t start finding stories from others about this phenomenon until about 2006.  Now you can easily search the web for the topic of shadow people, and how others have experienced their presence.

This was my only contact with the shadow people.  Some people only experience one shadow person… I had a whole room full of them.

 

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The Day I Probably Should Have Died

or Did Deja Vu Save Me?

 

The summer between my sophomore and junior year, I was life guarding at Municipal Pool and Sloans Lake.  Occasionally I would be sent over to Johnson Pool, if they were short on guards.

On such a day, I was sitting at a red stop light on Lincolnway, in the turn lane to get on the overpass to head to the south side.  I was on the inside turning lane behind a Napa Auto Parts delivery truck.  As the light turned green, I made a quick look behind me and shifted into the outside turning lane. (Knowing the rules of the road, I knew that I shouldn’t be doing this, but I was hit with the feeling that I had to do it.)

The rolling door on the back of the Napa truck was open, and just as I switched lanes a huge rolling dolly came flying out the back end of the truck.  It would have flown through the drivers side window, had I not taken that lane change.

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My Jesus Moment

In the fall of 1999 I was attending a private Christian College in Kansas.  I was feeling kind of boxed in with the rules, and I wanted some adventure.  One of my new friends and I decided to stay in Kansas City, Missouri for my birthday weekend.

I was not disappointed with the adventure, the whole trip provided some unexpected turns; most notable was my Jesus Moment.

Being from a small town, and living rural most of my life to this point; I was unaware of the plight of homeless veterans.  We were two freshmen in college, looking for a place for the under 21 crowd to dance.  No such thing was available on a Friday night.  The streets were busy with bar hoppers, and clubbers, and the homeless.

As my friend and I wandered around, looking for something to do, we saw some college age guys harassing two homeless vets begging for change.  They had a ball cap upside down on the sidewalk where people would throw them change.  One of the harassers, kicks the ball cap into the road and the coins go rolling in every direction into traffic.

One of the homeless men looks defeated as he gets up to dodge cars and retrieve the coinage.  I am appalled by these college kids surrounding me, and I snap.

I feel an overwhelming calmness come over to me as I walk up to a vendors window called “By The Slice”.   A young man named Jude is taking orders at the window.  I say to him,  “I’d like two large pizzas.”  Jude says, “I’m sorry, we only sell pizza by the slice.”  So I say I need two large pizzas  worth of slices.”   I spent over $80.00 in pizza and a large Mt. Dew.

I returned to the two men who had their change kicked around, and I asked if they were hungry.  They looked afraid, like I was taunting them.  I say “Here, have some pizza, I got it for you.”  One man shyly opens a box, and pulls out one slice, and hands it to the man next to him.  “I say you can take more, I got it for you.”   The man in front of me, begins to get tears in his eyes.. and he says “Are you mad at me?”  And at this moment, I don’t even feel like I have control over myself, but my eyes tear up as well, and I say very honestly “No, I am not mad at you; I love you.”

On that trip, I felt very imbibed in the spiritual nature of who ever we think Jesus to be.  That I was over taken in that spirit in that moment, and it was pure and beautiful.

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Premonitions

The earliest premonition I remember having was a dream that I had at 3 years old, that the Wicked Witch of West was trying to kill my mother.  My mother died less than a year later of Ovarian Cancer.

The second premonition I remember, was around 8 or 9 years old; I told my parents “someday, I will be able to travel all over the world, because I will have friends there.”  How real that is now that we live in a digitally connected world.

Around the same age I was obsessed with the idea of mind over matter.  I knew at a young age that the secrets of illness and healing had a lot to do with our mental states.  This has later been confirmed in neuroscience and quantum physics.

In Elementary school, I had to wear glasses and a retainer.  I had premonitory dreams about breaking them both at various times.  I remember getting mad at myself, because I knew better.  I knew the manner in which the object would get broken, and how ultimately it was my irresponsibility that would lead to their destruction.

In high school, I wrote A LOT of poetry.  I would just free write, go with one line and not think about it.  Many times I would read back my writing and it wouldn’t feel relative to my own experience.  Often those poems were picked up by a friend who needed it in the moment.  The writing was for them, not for myself.

In my adulthood, I have had premonitory dreams about the death of my brother, grandfather, and aunt.  As well as knowing my sister was pregnant with my first niece.

I also have a keen connection to weather.  I know exactly when to travel when weather is imminent.  I listen to my gut, when it says ” take this road.”

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Strangers From NoWhere

Have you ever had a stranger, pop out of nowhere to tell you something you needed to hear at the moment?  I have.

I was in my early 30’s, I was having a bummed out day.  All of my friends were busy, and I was feeling artistically defeated.  I was walking around downtown Corvallis with my dog; wandering up and down the silent alleyways when we popped out at a main intersecting road.  Just as we come to the outlet, this dark haired lady walks by.  I had never seen her before.

She stops in her tracks and looks directly at me.  There is no one else around on the street.  She says, “Don’t stop painting.  I know you are feeling down about it right now, but don’t stop.  You don’t know who it’s going to help yet.”

I felt the emotion rise in me.  “Thank you.” I say, and she continues to walk south down the sidewalk.  I turn to walk north, and think “Who was that?  I should get her name.”  So my dog and I turn around and I run down the street looking for her, but she vanished.

In my mid-twenties a similar thing happened while working at a coffee shop in the high altitude of Nederland, CO.  It was early morning, and I was bantering with my friend who was our baker.  I said “You know what I was thinkin’, if you had an appointment or a job down the canyon, and you didn’t feel like going in, you could just call them and tell them you have a bear asleep on your porch, and you feel it’s better not to leave right now.”

And we laughed at that.

We had one patron in the shop, who wasn’t a regular.  He was a black man who had a large stature, and he was dressed very differently then most of the black men you see in the mountains.

He excuses himself from involving himself into our conversation to ask ” Are bears a big problem up here?”

“I mean, they can be, if you leave your trash or food out.  We get some that wander into town, but it’s not usually a big deal.  Why do you ask?”

He says, ” Well, I have been trying to get some creative work done, and I live in Denver.  And it’s too busy out there, so I prayed, and I heard  ‘go to Nederland.’  I didn’t even know this place existed, but I looked it up, and saw that I could get up here by bus.  And on the front page of your town website it was all about bears.  Ya see, I am from Florida, and I ain’t been to the woods since I was like twelve.  Last time I went to the woods I was chased by an alligator.  So, you see when I came up here I made sure to wear my running shoes.  I thought ya’ll might have bears at your bus stop.”

My friend and I are cracking up.  I tell him I want to hear more about how he prayed and it led him up here, so he ends up hanging out until I get off of work, and we go have a chat.

He tells me that he speaks with God, and God leads him, and he is there to see me today.  He says he needs me to know that I am a “Spiritual Mayor of the Rocky Mountains.”  I tell him that I find that idea interesting because I tend to be either the first person new comers talk to, or the last person they talk to on their way out.

We spent a few hours sharing our own strange experiences with each other, and that was it.  We didn’t communicate again after that.

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What Are The Chances?

I think people from Wyoming, are inherently attracted to each other when they are outside of Wyoming.

Wyoming boasts of being the least populated state in the US, with just under 600,000.  Cheyenne, at the time of my graduation in 1999, was around 50,000.

In 2000, I went to a massive rave at Candlestick park in Oakland.  The estimated amount of attendees was roughly 40,000.  In the first couple of hours, I found one guy named Orlando, from Wyoming.  I thought the statistical odds of that happening were pretty slim.

Wyomingites, are kind and friendly people, in my experience.

In 2006, while visiting friends in Oregon, my car had some radiator issues, and I was leaking coolant all over.  Due to parking limits in down town Bend, I had to move my car every couple of hours, but I was trying to limit how much I was driving so that I didn’t drain the radiator.

I pulled into a parking spot near a candy shop, and a couple stood on the sidewalk in front of my car.  When I exited the car, the man excitedly unzipped his jacket to expose a University of Wyoming Ladies Basket ball shirt.  He had noticed my Wyoming license plate, and he and his wife were excited to connect to familiar relation.

We get to chatting, and they wonder what I am doing in Bend.  I tell them that I use to live here and I am back to see friends and get some tings I had in storage, but that I was having some unexpected car trouble.

These people made a few phone calls to people they knew in the area and set me up an appointment with a mechanic.  I was so moved, I asked “Why are you doing this for me?”  Their answer, “You remind us a lot of our daughter.  She is wild and nomadic like you.  We would hope that if she was in a similar situation that someone would help her out. And besides, we are all from Wyoming, we look out for our own.”

This was just another case of statistical improbability in my mind.  Out of all the spaces I could  park in, out of all the people out on the street that day; that I would be met with such connection and kindness based off of a location we both shared.  Strange, but beautifully true.

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A Loose Conclusion

These are just a few shortened stories of my life.  Some people do not believe in magic, or energetic connection, or the paranormal.  Perhaps that is why they don’t experience it.  I do believe in phenomenon and I find it curious.  These experiences are precious to me as they connect me with life and death and everything in between.

I would encourage you to examine some of the weirder stuff you  may have experienced over your life.  You might see a silent hand in there, stirring the energetic pot of your existence.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Hoping The Message Isn’t Buried in Layers of Fat; or My Fear of My Meat Suit

People ask if I was nervous to give my TEDx talk.  I answered “no.”  Which I suppose was only partially true.  I wasn’t worried about speaking in front of people. I wasn’t worried about my message.  I was worried as hell, about my ridiculous weight gain over the past five years.

I have always struggled with dysmorphia.  Wikipedia says this about it; “Body dysmorphic disorder (BDD) is a mental disorder characterized by an obsessive preoccupation that some aspect of one’s own appearance is severely flawed and warrants exceptional measures to hide or fix it.[1] In BDD’s delusional variant, the flaw is imagined.[2] If the flaw is actual, its importance is severely exaggerated.[2] Either way, one’s thoughts about it are pervasive and intrusive, occupying up to several hours a day.”

I don’t believe this to be a mental disorder, of my own accord.

Even when I was a strong and muscular child, I endured the taunting of “being fat and ugly.”  I was taller than many of my peers, and larger in body structure.  I was healthy, I was some what athletic as a swimmer.

I use to wear a one piece racing suit, almost everyday as a life guard.  I still felt fat.  Clothed or not, I was constantly comparing myself to the females around me.  Even then, I didn’t see myself as I actually was.  It wasn’t until decades later, through photographs, that I realize I was spinning with worry over nothing real.  But those words from others, seemed real.

There was nothing wrong with me.  But now, when I compare myself to that person… I feel, “I have let myself go.”  I feel gross, yet I no longer have people telling me I am fat.  When I see pictures of my current self, it’s all I see.  I have conditioned myself to fixate on that one thing.

When my talk goes live, online… I put myself out there to the wolves in the comment section.  I put myself out there for friends to critique my physic, whether vocally or mentally; and that scares me shitless.

When I had a youtube channel, I looked hot.  I got off on seeing how my farm living lifestyle changed my body for the better.  I was far more confident showing it off.  I don’t look like the same person today.

That is what scares me, most of all.  That my message will get lost in my layers of fat.  That I will re-attract those people who live off of taunting others for fun.  That some random people I don’t even know are going to cruelly judge me.

Despite my self knowing, that this sedentary lifestyle is temporary.  Fat doesn’t have to be forever… at the moment, it’s hard to face myself in the mirror.  Despite all that I have triumphed, my own body is no longer on that list.  It’s scary to know I have so much work ahead of myself.  And I admit, it is SO hard to do alone.  I want someone to hold my hand through it, every step of the way, because I have a really hard time self motivating out of the dysmorphic mind set.

I just want to get to a point where I spend less time obsessing about this meat suit.  I know that my body doesn’t represent the totality of who I am, or what I have to offer.  I believe if I could just stop worrying about it, that I could retrieve some of my lost energy and vitality.

I want to be adopted by someone who already has a solid routine that they can pull me into, because I admit to having a hard time doing that for myself, and in my current situation that aspect of change doesn’t have many support systems.

Sometimes, I think, after my grandma passes, that I am going to have to fully immerse myself again in a lifestyle that requires a lot of physical movement, because that is what works for me.  I don’t enjoy conventional gyms… I would rather be hiking or throwing sheep, then standing in a stuffy gym full of mirrors, or waiting for a moment to do exercises prescribed by a youtube exercise guru.  It just doesn’t hold my interest.

I like exercise, that masquerades as “work” and “function.” I get shit done, and burn some lbs.  I wear myself out, I sleep better.  My tendency toward fresh foods becomes more noticeable.  People spend money, going to gyms; when just living an active lifestyle can give you similar results.  If your job is active, you actually get paid to help your own physic; which is awesome.

If there is one thing that I could manifest soon, it is some how some way, to get babied to some degree, into weight loss.  To be assisted in keeping up the motivation.  It is so much easier to agree to drinking beer, then it is to set up a schedule of walking partners…

 

 

Relating to Relation

As I gather myself together to take the second annual TEDx Cheyenne stage tonight, my body is flooded with energy.  How auspicious that I get the privilege of performing my own material on the full moon in June.

I get to tell my own story, while immortalizing my grandma.   I get to share my love and pride of her with an audience who is excited to hear the story.  I have the amazing opportunity to share some valuable insights about life, and death.  I am allowed to speak candidly about a topic many people would rather not discuss.

I feel like crying right now, because I am so overwhelmed with excitement and feeling.  I have a strong feeling, that this moment might change my life in ways, I can’t even fathom at this point in time.

The story I tell, is not solely my own.  My story is about relation, and that my dear friends is something we all seek in various ways.  My gift of using words to convey relation, is so priceless, and it’s been a while since I used my whole body to express them to an audience.

I get to stand again, on my favorite hometown stage, with my own work and I am elated.  I will be surrounded with peers that I have met over the years.  To them I will bare part of my soul.

Though my grandma will not be in attendance, I hope that she is proud of me.  I hope that I honor her through my talk, because she deserves it.  If I didn’t come back for her, I wouldn’t have this wonderful opportunity.

The thing I want most in the world, is the ability for humans to spend more time working at relating to each other.   I want us to move beyond our differences, and see where we are most alike.

For generations people kept their truths, and pains hidden.  I find that it is the time to draw back the curtains and expose those lost gems to the sunlight.  To embrace ourselves and each other, despite the cracks and shadows.  Story telling, is one of the best ways I know how to do that.

I am thankful for every lesson that brought me to today.  Thank you to all of you who listen, and participate with my growth and my life adventure.  I look forward to new experiences, and new stories to share.

Write to Make Yourself Right

I am 36 years old.

I have twice as many journals as my age.

You know what they tell me?

Almost everything, and I am sporadic writer.

But one of the first things I can tell you that writing will help with, and work you through, is cyclical pain from past trauma. The time, the season, the trigger. It will show you your insecurities, your triumphs. It will remind you of what “good” feels like, when you feel bad.

It will bring back vivid detail of times, people and things of the past.

It will beg you to question yourself and the world; your perception and acceptance.

It will take you to new heights, and hold the burden of your losses.

And if you love some one like a daughter, a niece, or whatever; the gift of passing it along is priceless.

Write, even if you have always told yourself you are a bad writer. You are under no obligation to share it, unless you want to.

If you want to know yourself better, do it.

Usually I have 3-4 notebooks going at one time for various things… charting territories of my personal observations, feelings, and evolution.

Our world so badly wants relation, but we hide in cyber hibernation under status updates, while our internal worlds spin with no outlet, like a plugged up washing machine caught on the spin cycle with no outlet.

We want to purge. We want to connect. We want to remember. We want to be remembered. We want to know all is not for naught. We want to learn and grow. We want a road map.

Writing can provide all of that and more. Leave self judgement at the door, and pick up a nice pen and some strong paper… it is willing and able to hold the weight of your soul.

I Have to Write About This, Right Now

I’m not big on “excitement.”  I try and keep even keel.  I suppose I am more obvious with my disappointments, than I am with my excitements.  I have always been afraid that I would get too excited, and then, someone or something would squash it, or take it away.

My response to this, has been to assume Resting Bitch Face Mode, and act as unimpressed and neutral as possible when it comes to things or situations that I should be looking forward to.

I stuff it down inside myself, I make it a reason for motivation… but heaven forbid, I actually outwardly show pride, or excitement in regard to myself.  It sucks.  It’s such a weird reaction to accomplishment; especially when you don’t hesitate to gush over the accomplishments of others.

I mean, what is accomplishment to you?  The word is really subjective.

I have come to realize, that to me, accomplishment is making a positive impact wherever I can.  It is the art of relating to people, and helping each other navigate over the hurdles life puts in out paths.  It’s knowing my intentions are pure.  It is the satisfaction of shared experience with personalities different than mine, but similar in soul alignment.

For you, it may be your kids, or your law degrees, or the fact you own your own home.  I didn’t really want any of those things, so what we may have most in common is a successful paper trail, documenting our so called accomplishments.

I want to mark today as significant, for myself.

I am embracing change and opportunity.  I am flipping a proverbial page.  I want to bring everyone with me.   Today, was effortless.   The work that made today happen, is years old.  I am getting the privileged to see some of the seeds I planted and watered so long ago, grow.

I have reached a new level of understanding Fruition.  And I know, that I am just getting excited over a sprout-ling.

Like I said, I don’t get very excited, very often.  I keep it to myself.

But, today, right now, I want to share it with you.  I want you to know that I do feel, and deeply.  I have just conditioned myself to maintain this grounded neutrality.

I want to share this feeling with you.   I want you to share your feelings with me.

Maybe today sucked for you… maybe you are in an awkward place, and you don’t have it in you, to meet my excitement.  Maybe it even pisses you off as you are reminded of how you don’t feel like that right now.   That is okay too.

Sometimes part of my reserve, is because I don’t want to make people, who already feel bad, feel worse.  So I commit to self censorship. And maybe you say nothing at all, because you are on the worse end of today.

It’s okay.  When I feel up, I want to channel that to those of you who feel down.  I am so accustomed to being mid-level-down with no outlet; that me feeling up, leaves me more energy to be present with your down time.  It’s a give and take that I enjoy participating with, because rarely is it that some one walks away from me, feeling worse about their current circumstance, than they did before we talked.  And you may not know it, but that fills me with a strong joy that is hard to describe. Those who know me, know I don’t blow smoke up their ass.  If I say something hard to take, it’s because it is honest, and I don’t censor myself much, around those of mutual love and respect.

The thing that sucks most for me… is how rare it is that I get these bursts of glow… and I find they fade so quickly, overrun by the regular mundane part of existence, that they rarely get the time or honor they deserve.  So I needed to write this down now.  I needed to document a day, where almost every hour was a new and pleasant surprise.

I needed to document that it isn’t all just “repairing fences” in life.

I have been working at starting a nonprofit, which I feel will positively change my home towns’ social landscape.  We sent off paper work to the Secretary of State to lock in our name today.  This is a dream that is over 10 years old, ready to come to fruition, and because it is  Cheyenne, and Cheyenne is ready, and I was blessed with a beginning team.  More details soon.   (But, I am excited.)

I locked down on my memorization today, so that I can give a heartfelt, and engaging talk at Tedx Cheyenne, in a week. I get to (again) take the stage in a theatre I call home, a place with rich history.  I have been  gifted the chance to talk about life, and my personal observations.  My heart is full to the brim because I am allowed to share my personal work, my personal story.  A story, which wouldn’t be the same with out my support systems and experience.

Today I was offered an opportunity to paint the hanger facade at Cheyenne Regional Airport… just think; Arrivals and Departures… a portal to a new place.  I am familiar with the experience of coming and going.  I want to create something that captures the essence and tone of those chapter changes.  I want to leave another mark on this place.  Imagine, 30 years from now, they repaint the hanger and someone comes back to visit, after leaving at 18, and they say ” Oh, they covered it up.  I remember when there was this cool mural up there….”  And I can be woven into the memories of people I may never meet.   ( A constant striving with my art in all regards.)

I feel a confidence that I am flipping a page to a new chapter.  I am excited to see where it leads.  There is no shame in it. My pride is not boastful… it’s more akin to surprise.  I am always surprised when I feel or experience surprise; I translate it as a reason for excitement.  Something to look forward to.

Thank you, to all of you who share my excitement or surprised, surprise.  Thank you, to all of you who bring me back to ground level.  Thank you, to all of you, who help me dig deep, and trust in my council.

Today was undoubtedly a good day.   Thank you for letting me share it with you.  Thank you for sharing it with me.  Thank you for allowing me to share.

 

 

 

Uncomfortable Conversations

Just now I slipped into morbidity and thought, maybe my eulogy or my headstone, might say ” She got too mentally involved with shit that didn’t relate to her actual life, and missed out on a shit ton that was awesome.”

I promptly went outside, pulled weeds and watched the sunset… Who the hell does Future Mandie appoint as their sponsored voice in something like a eulogy or a head stone?   Hopefully, they are more poignant than my reckless imagination.

I have been thinking and talking about death quite a bit in the last couple of weeks.  It brings my attention to the ways I avoid administrative type tasks in my adulthood.  The shit no one wants to deal with.

A couple of weeks ago, my uncle forgot to tell me that he would be late coming over in the morning.  He basically has consistent “AM Grandma (or in his case MOM) duty.”  He is single, without kids, and structured, but creative.  He understands I stay up late, to capture some hours with out responsibility.  It works out well.

Anyway, he forgets to tell me he will be late, and at 9:30 am, I walk out into a dark hallway, and hear my grandma’s dog scratching on her door.  I get the dog out to pee, and open the curtains, and immediately ponder why the hell my Uncle isn’t here yet.

He is anal retentive about making sure if one of us has “schedule changes”, that the other one is up to date on what the what is.  So… THE FIRST THING that comes to my mind is ; “How long do you wait to do a welfare check on someone who you see everyday, but lives alone, so far as you know single and basically shares little to nothing about their personal life?”

I mean… “He seems healthy, but what the fuck do I know?”

I tried calling.  I send a couple of text messages.  I got grandma up, and made breakfast… He finally got a hold of me around 11:30, saying he was “on his way.”  I didn’t bring it up.  He didn’t offer to explain.  But, since then, I have been going through some adult administrative mental anxiety starting with that question… how long do you wait to call for welfare checks?

Would one of his friend/bandmates do it before me?

How exactly does he structure his time to commitments?  Who relies on his reliability?  (He is really reliable, but sometimes unexpected.)

Who are his Emergency Contacts?  Should I at least be acquainted to them?

What do I do about……..?

He holds the vault for my grandma both financially and medically…  I buy the groceries, but I am not on the bank account.  I make sure my grandma takes her PM pills, but I don’t know what they are all for.. though I know I could google it easily.  He attends her appointments, and fills prescriptions that don’t arrive by mail.

What if?  What if one day, my Uncle is driving to band practice down the road from Cheyenne, into Colorado, on the highway, and he is in a fatal accident?  Worst-fucking-case-scenario; am I able to step up or in, or do I have to just pass administration over to the last surviving son, who only shows up once a week and never seems to bring anything helpful to the table, when it actually comes to CARE?

Then I think about HAVING to force communication with a person who has no respect for me as a human, and has done just about everything possible in their power to treat me like I don’t exist; all while training his family to act in accordance…. and I damn near shit my pants.

That’s it.  That’s all.

I need to have some serious and uncomfortable conversations with people who avoid conversations like this, at all costs.  Fuck.

A portal of inner exploration