Deciding to start doing video. Got stuff today. Already had some of it, but it’s not the sort of thing I easily persist in, so it’s taken me about 9 months to finish getting the parts I need to put the array of equipment together that seems needed to me for an acceptable sound quality. So, maybe it’s a birth, not a delay. We’ll see. Funny. Called Winnie to see if she’d help me. It gave me the oomph I needed to log onto the computer to look for the equipment I need. Which, amazingly, I’d already bookmarked months ago and forgotten about. Found the bookmark today. Had the answer already. For now, when it’s time to act.
I’m going to like this better than performing. A camera is easy. Performing, not so much. I just do not resonate with a bunch of people watching me. I wonder if it’s because I’m an INFJ? The introvert being operative. I’m trying to find the next step on the path that will further ascension. I think for now accepting myself and letting myself do things in a way that feels good is okay. I’m going to keep moving and honor the parts of myself that I had let myself see as obstacles to delete by changing. I think the phrase (which greatly upsets some I understand) is there are other ways to skin the KAT. Okay, what’s another idiom that works as well? I can’t think of any. Peel the banana? No. Trim the turnip. No. I give. Skin the cat.
Let’s see how this video path goes. Since I can’t seem to incline myself to perform out. This is a manner of connection.
Am thinking of putting together a video on Insect (Man in the Box Becomes Song About Fairy Princess).
Another reason I might not like crowds (if they’re watching me) is my past life as a knight. I was overrun by a Visigoth horde and treated most atrociously! Beaten to death, stomped on, pulled apart. Extremely unpleasant experience. I can see that it would leave an energetic mark upon my soul personality.
I suppose the healing that comes from knowing this is more about accepting myself, rather than changing who I am. What I let go of isn’t the not liking being watched by a crowd, it’s the judgment of it. I’ll honor the truth of who I am and do it another way. I’ll keep going. I have more energy for video than performing out.
Ate weirdly today. No breakfast (it has literally been decades since I’ve skipped breakfast). Seafood and salad and fries (I don’t often eat these) for lunch with Ridge and Ames. Ate every bite. Then ate nothing for over 12 hours. Finally broke the fast after midnight and for appetizers had 1 piece of Ames’s homemade toffee (best on planet Earth), 2 fun-size 3 Musketeers, Wavy Lays, cheese cookies with pecans on top, 1 snickerdoodle (too sweet), and 2 slivers of cranberry pie (delicious). Then had 1 biscuit (this was my entrée), then 1 tiny square of lemon bar for dessert. Hmmm. That was a dessert heavy meal. Christmas eating. I think I’ll feel fine as ever in the morning. I will be having a spinach and mushroom omelet though.
Clearly December is slammed. No time at all to write.
And I’m realizing that I am profoundly tired. Yet, onward I go. I must. Maybe tonight I’ll get more rest. Last night I awoke to a sensation that I have experienced before: my entire body was vibrating. I never have quite figured out what that is. I’m wondering if it’s when my soul is coming in or going out of my body for its nightly journeying?
Well, tired or not, I have to express my gratitude to the universe. It has been a great holiday season. The kids liked their presents, and we had a great dinner with beef tenderloin (I don’t eat meat but everyone else liked it) and Yorkshire pudding and the works. All was harmonious and smooth and easy and pleasant. It was such a change of energy from just four Christmases ago. Finally, I truly feel healed from my divorce. Four Christmases ago was my first Christmas as a divorced person. I was so low and just wanted to do nothing: just to be catatonic and wait for it to pass. Hard to do that with three kids, still in shock from the loss of their way of life. So, I had to get on with it, despite having not one bit of cheer in my heart.
This year, wow! The kids’ father (Bruce) and his wife (Winnie, whom I used to refer to as the woman my husband left me for and a lot of other unrepeatable names) spent a lot of the day with us. We cooked together and cleaned together and all was orderly. We did not feel tired. We moved together in the kitchen as though as our steps were a dance. The energy was comfortable and happy.
I am grateful.
It all makes sense now. The dreams. The tarot.
I have been throwing the Hanged Man for some time now. I know why . . . at last. Seeing and understanding have taken me a very long time, but I see.
Tonight I just did the lesson of the Hanged Man. It was so uncomfortable. But lately I have reminded myself, I’ve noticed, several times in the last 2 days, that I have 4 past lives and/or guardians in play right now. Four warriors. It is because I need them now.
The Mongolian Barbarian: ruthless. Power and clear vision of how to achieve his aim.
The American Indian Chief: quiet. Misses nothing. Astute judge of character. Wise choices.
The American Indian Brave: wiley. Likes fire and the dark. A spirit of the night.
The Viking: The guardian of the halls I pass through.
I just had to stand my ground. To take care of the crying child who seems to be with me always. I respected my feelings. I had to turn someone away from the inn tonight. That sucked. But, I lived through pure hell last year because I took someone in whom I didn’t know.
The universe presented me with the same choice today, this last day of 2016. Today is this card:
Which I have been throwing for days and days. Something ending. Some finishing of a line of thought. Some awakening to a new thought. A lesson integrated.
I broke my own heart today (see end note 1). I turned away an 18 year old girl who needed a place to stay because her parents kicked her out.
I experienced so much pain last year because I took in someone I did not know. Jesus Christ. Forgive me for ill using your name, Lord, but my God, it was a bring-me-to-my-knees lesson. Forgive me universe if I have erred in my discernment. But my feelings are so strong they will not permit any other choice. The child in me, who lives with me always, who is a me who is always there, absolutely cannot deal with that again. No.
Anyone who wants a place with me, I must know first.
Thank you, crow, for flying above me this morning, first trip of the day. First time I’ve ever been directly below a crow in flight, flying along side my car for a long time so I couldn’t miss it. I noted it.
Lesson time. Test time, actually.
So hard. So hard. What if that were my child?
Well, that wouldn’t be my child. However atrociously unkind my child’s behavior might be, I could never in a million years turn my child out. I might leave for a bit, just long enough to catch a little whiff of relief from relentless testing by teenaged energy from an uber intelligent and powerful soul. OMG. I have to be strong to endure this. And I am.
Triple smiley face. Now that’s an invocation of power.
Wow. The lesson of The Hanged Man (see note 2). I did something I did not wish to do, in surrender to a higher principal. I feel as though this is one of those important moments in life. In my case, I had to do something very difficult. I turned away a child whose parents put her out.
But the child in me needs to know she’s safe and that I care about her feelings. She is still in quite the state of horror. Taking in an unknown person into my home last year was one of the worst, most painful decisions I ever made. The universe asks of us all: discretion.
The sign for this comes to me and a friend of mine over and over: the hawk. It has flown so close it almost touched my windshield. Often hawk appears. The bringer of the message: exercise discretion. I see that is the lesson.
And what guides my discretion. What is my compass in this?
I still feel a knot in my gut, hidden most of the time, but it springs out, at times like tonight. At some point, it needs to be let go, but for right now, my warriors hold up shields made in the fire and pounding hammers and searing anvil of horror. There is no way I can forget a lesson that hurt so much. I see that the extent of my pain is not understood by those around me. I have done such a good job in holding myself steady through it. They do not understand or they would know what not to ask of me.
No one may enter now. Safety is in the guarded, locked tower.
I must have my peace.
Goodbye 2016. The year I learned how to place boundaries and guard them well.
Note 1: I know this is an Everclear lyric. I’m not ripping off anybody: I am acknowledging the source here. Great lyric, great song: The Man Who Broke His Own Heart.
Note 2: I realized I was integrating the lesson of The Hanged Man when I noticed my arms stretching as his do on the cross.
My back is so tense and tight. I was holding myself that way to stretch and realized the parallel and that opened the gate for me to at last recognize other signs as well. (The crow flying over my car, the orange ladybug with no spots crawling on my keyboard in December when you never see ladybugs.)
Plus the dream I forgot to mention. I don’t begin to know how to describe how this looked, but I saw a close up of two raw pieces of meat: a duck’s wing and a small beef tenderloin. Both bloody. I was delivering them as a donation to charity.
Interpretation: I am giving, for the greater good, something I find loathsome. (I don’t eat meat anymore and these images were especially raw and animal.) I had to turn away someone in need. I can’t believe the day has come in which my heart had to be so hard. I find this loathsome.
But the day has come. The greater good is for me to take responsibility for myself, to take responsibility for my well-being, which means respecting my own feelings before all others. I get to do that. I get to choose to feel safe. I get to choose to feel peace. I get to choose the circumstances that allow those two feelings to be my every day feelings, and I am so grateful for it. It will make me feel sick and upset not to have a feeling of safety and peace around me. It is important that I choose with that in mind. I must do this, because my ability to be strong and clear-minded and of best service, requires that I feel safe and untroubled. I bring my best energy to the world that way.
Thank you, everyone involved, for helping me to have this clarifying moment. Thank you, Marie, for the dream. I understand your dream now too.
My friend, Marie, dreamt of a baby that a waitress brought to her. (Interesting that the girl who wanted to move in here works at a restaurant.) She dumped the baby on Marie and her sister. Her sister (who in real life is a powerful litigator and is surely symbolic of female power) said no. The police came and agreed with her choice and left to find the parents. The baby had a huge third eye, but its regular eyes were shriveled and fell to the floor like pebbles.
What is is not what seems. This lesson that has been brought to me, this awakening understanding of a divine nature (symbolized by the baby) is this: I must be clear-sighted in the view of myself and true in the perception of my feelings. To love myself as my own child. The youngest and most vulnerable of the lot that I’m responsible for. Self-love. Not of the selfish variety. The healthy kind.
And as I write this, the clock crosses over the 12 mark (the number of The Hanged Man is 12).
An ending: 2016 done, some old part of me shed.
A beginning: the eyeless, yet big third-eyed baby, seeing at last because I have looked within . 2017.