Last night, I cast a tarot spread for myself. I was only loosely asking for guidance around the sharing of my gifts/talents/wisdom/skills to a greater audience with the hopes of increasing both my personal fulfillment and my financial stability.
I wasn’t planning on it, but I ended up casting a truncated Celtic Cross spread. It just seemed like the spread for the moment, as my intuition urged me.
Here is what the reading shared with me:
THE HIEROPHANT – This card felt perfect in the querent position. I am feeling ready to teach others from the wisdom I’ve gained thus far on my earth path. I’m ready to learn from my students/clients. I’m also ready to learn from someone with different/greater wisdom than I’ve achieved to now. Being a Major Arcana card, I am reminded that I am in a powerfully transformational phase right now.
FOUR CUPS – As the crossing card, I have received several messages from this card, but it still feels a little ‘muddy’ for me. Of course, I feel like the ‘muddiness’ is part of the message. I am so busy asking for practical solutions that I sometimes neglect my own practice of going within to get clarity and trusting that it will be provided exactly when and how it is needed. As a FOUR, there is an energy of strategy and sovereignty here. CUPS indicate an emotional task. I am being asked to be strategic in planning how I want to share my services, but to be careful to remain emotionally open and transparent. My emotionality and intuitive gifts are a strong part of my USP. I need to let people see it more. I need to trust that I am enough and I have the innate wisdom and confidence to clearly call in what I am desiring. The goose that lays the golden egg is at my back supporting me and waiting for me to make my move(s).
TEN PENTACLES – The bird’s eye view of this current situation tells of my time “up on the roof”. This is a phase of life for those who have a 6-line in their Human Design Profile that falls roughly between the Saturn Return and the Chiron Return. This phase is a time of removing oneself from the chaos and distraction of the world in order to integrate the wisdom gained from all the experimenting and learning [the hard way] during the formative years before the Saturn Return, as well as a time to observe the world and it’s habits/patterns to better understand how everything works (or doesn’t). As I navigate my Chiron Return, I am taking my first tentative steps off the roof and back into the rhythm and flow of the world, but from the outside it looks as if I am still sitting on my isolated perch; removed and separate.
ACE SWORDS – At the root of this situation, however, is my readiness to reintegrate with the mundane world. My rooftop education is completing and I am beginning the new phase of the Role Model (the matured version of the 6-line).
FOUR WANDS – Most recently, I had been happily dancing to my own tune on the roof. (My sister was there with me and it felt safer than and made more sense than the world down below.) I gained a kind of mastery of Self and my role in the world from that place of shifted perspective. Now it’s time to go out and teach what I’ve learned.
QUEEN WANDS – If I manage to move through this reintegration phase successfully; learning to trust in myself and the support of the cosmos; I am likely to become a beacon of light for those who are in need of what I have to share. They will flock to me like moths to the flame without so much effort on my part. I will just need to be myself and do what brings me joy. This is the evolution of the Role Model 6-Line of the HD Profile.
SIX CUPS – I pulled an additional card last night as I wasn’t feeling the full story of the reading then as I am seeing it now. But still it confirms the message of the Queen. Once I am reintegrated I will still have that broader perspective, but I will no longer be removed from Life. I will be a more active and accessible part of it. There will be a renewed flow of energy and purpose (SIX) and I will feel emotionally and intuitively connected with all that is (CUPS). I will find a moment of contentment.
I am really feeling this reading touching me and supporting me such a beautiful way. I’ve been struggling these past two years, even as I’ve been cognizant of the fact that I am in a significant transformational process. I hadn’t fully put together that I was preparing to leave the proverbial roof and rejoin the world. That makes so much sense to me now. This lens is hugely helpful and hopeful for me right now. I am excited for 2024, and the fresh experiences it brings.
I am feeling unsettled this morning. Though I have no known reason to be. In fact, I have been feeling a steady rise in my mood and my progress in most of the facets of my life of late.
I attribute much of this to my recent engagement with flower remedies. I’ve been taking the Expanded blend by Alexis Smart, and already I’m feeling some noticeable and beautiful shifts. (And, yes, expansive shifts.) I highly recommend this medicine.
I wonder if the unsettled feeling has something to do with the fact that I am actually moving closer to my desires now—moving slowly, but surely, through my comfortable old blockages? I don’t know. But it’s been fleeting, so I will just allow it to inform me as best it can and just let it do it’s thing.
The poem, above, was spurred by a New Moon Poetry Prompt from Stephanie Athena’s instagram account. It’s not a miraculous piece of work, but it was an impromptu expression that actually feels pretty on point with how I am currently experiencing my life.
I am creating new space and new opportunities, and this is wonderful, but so often when this happens I get a little (or a lot) scared of what I might open up for myself, and I start dragging my feet.
I start to question what it is I really want. (Which is important to make sure I’m clear on what I want to create, but it’s the second-guessing that really mucks things up.) And then, historically, I’ve had a habit of somehow self-sabatoging whatever progress I’ve been nursing.
I want to break this unconstructive habit. I’m not quite sure how to do it, but I feel more committed to breaking it now than ever. I believe the flower essences are a kay player in my success. But I also can’t (and don’t want to) rely solely on them. It’s time to move beyond this ridiculous pattern, and find the freedom to be a better version of me.
I can do this. I can persevere. I can be patient and steadfast. I can do this. And so here I go.
Yesterday started out okay, but over the course of the day, something happened. I get the feeling some uncomfortable emotions may have been trying to surface, because by lunchtime I was starting to sink into what would be a pretty ridiculous escape into crappy food and crappy tv. By evening, I was developing a pretty ripe headache, that really paired nicely with my excessively bloated guts and inflamed joints.
Good times. (Note the sarcasm.)
Sleep was fitful, at best. The night was riddled with dreams and physical discomfort. The headache got worse during the night. I was apparently clenching my jaw, neck, shoulders and back through the whole of the night. I awoke several times to reposition myself and/or to visit the loo. By the time I awoke in the morning I was facing a bit of a rock bottom experience.
My headache was mammoth. It was so intense even the deep pockets in my ears were pulsating with pain. My body was sore and tender and stiff and no position I tried could alleviate the aches. Needless to say, my mood was LOW.
But, despite the horrifying discomfort of this experience, I am grateful it happened.
I am grateful because it was a very loud and potent message from my body/mind/spirit that the way I’ve been treating myself is NOT OKAY. I have slumped so far down the ladder from the pristine health I had cultivated during my time in Hawaii that I can barely remember how glorious it was to feel so good all the time.
Today reminded me just how poor my state of health has become. How I’ve been consistently brushing unpleasant symptoms aside with a wave of my hand thinking it wasn’t a big deal. How I’ve come to accept a regular occurrence of headaches and body aches. How I’ve let my diet denigrate so far from what I know to be healthy and vital that I can barely even recognize this person I’ve become.
This dark day came calling with the gift of awareness: Awareness that I need to change what I’ve been doing and get back to a more blissful state of health and alignment.
I spent the day eating fruits and vegetables and hydrating with lots of clean water. I started adjusting my weekly meal plan so that it consists primarily of fresh, ripe, raw fruits and greens. I sought out inspiring images, blogs and videos online to help support me when those old unconstructive tendencies try to re-surface. I grabbed my well-worn copy of The 80/10/10 DIet off the bookshelf to re-immerse myself in the principles of natural health and vitality, so that I can keep this awareness front and center in my mind. I was also fortunate enough to have already had a 2-hour massage scheduled for this evening, so that was a sweet coincidental bonus.
Sadly, I was too poorly to make it to jiu jitsu class this morning, but I am hopeful that by next week, I’ll be feeling much better and more able to roll around on the floor without so much pain.
I’m sharing all this as a way of declaring my intentions to be a better steward of my Self. I’m sharing this to help me hold myself accountable as I move forward. There will likely be failures moving forward, but they don’t have to be total derailments. And keeping myself honest on the digital page is one step I can take to help me get back up and moving forward.
Here I go. I begin again. Today. Right now. I’m ready.
It’s a quiet night here in the mountains of NC. Even in my populated neighborhood, there’s little movement outside. It’s late. I imagine people getting ready for bed, or already asleep; alone or with others they love (or merely tolerate).
I’m listening to the Amelie soundtrack and sitting in my pajamas tapping away at my keyboard. The music provides a nostalgic backdrop, reminding of a time when I felt much more creative and excited by and hopeful for life.
That’s not to say I’ve given up on life. I’m just in a bit of a liminal moment. I’m feeling my foundations shifting … yet again. It seems I am always in the midst of some transformation or other. Though, it’s not terribly surprising. I’m an 8th House Aries Sun, after all. I shine at initiating deep transformation.
I don’t mind it, really. In fact, I find it fascinating and cathartic. I just wish I could understand the mechanics more fully as they are happening instead of getting it in retrospect.
I’m currently going through a period where I am feeling myself being pulled toward a reevaluation of the preferred aesthetics and values in my life. It feels a good time to pull out the old scripts from which I’ve been operating my central processing systems, and replace them with new upgraded objectives and language.
(NB: After writing this, I realized Mercury Rx is hanging out in Taurus … along with Pallas, Uranus, the Moon and Her North Node … this makes total sense when re-reading that last paragraph.)
I feel the familiar heel-dragging of Resistance as I start making even the smallest of changes to my mundane routines. This is usually a sign that I’m on the right track. Something good is on its way, which I reactively try to sabotage or delay. This is a pesky by-product of my humble Southern upbringing that likes to remind us that suffering is a pious privilege. It’s not often an easy weed to untangle, but I continue to pull at its invasive roots, trusting that one day my inner garden will be free of it.
Speaking of hangers-on … Home is a concept that has been tenaciously tugging at my awareness of late.
I just moved into a larger apartment. There’s a lot about it that meets my checklist needs. And while it’s a lovely space, I’m finding that it’s not providing exactly the sense of fulfillment and Home that I was hoping it would.
What I really want is a house of my own. Well, a house to share with my sister and my niecelet, but one of which we are the mistresses. A house where we can do whatever we want to it, without needing to run our creative urges by anyone else first.
And land! I want some land over which I can be steward. I want to be able to garden and create outdoor living spaces. I want to be able to forage outside my kitchen door. I want wildlife to be welcomed guests in my gardens. I want to live more symbiotically with the rhythms and cycles of Nature.
And people! I will always need a fair amount of privacy in my home space (and in my life). However, It’s essential to balance that solitude with company. I want to do that with a gaggle of beautiful people to welcome into my home on a regular basis. I want to share food and drink with people; to play games; to connect through deep conversation while waxing philosophically under the stars. I want to laugh and cry and gasp at the wonder of the world around us … together.
These are simple needs. They are basic human needs with a few of my own unique personalized embellishments. Why, then, does it seem so difficult to achieve? This is the challenge, isn’t it? So I will continue to open my mind and heart to new ways of pursuing these needs. And one day … hopefully sooner than later … I’ll find my way there.
If you’ve been reading along with my posts, you may already know that I’ve been wading through some emotional waters, sinking in some existential mud and rising up on some not-quite-fully-formed-but-definitely-in-progress dreams. This post will basically continue where I left off last.
I’m feeling HEAVY lately. There’s definitely some ennui and existential angst seeping into my current soup of feelings, and they are sending me such polarized side-effects as anxiety attacks and lazy escapist behaviors.
I still do believe this is all part of the unfolding of the transformational shift I am undergoing. Because it’s such a pivotal shift with deep identity-shaking ramifications, I am experiencing an internal tug of war between the welcoming of this shift and the resistance of it. It’s different winners on different days, but, lately, resistance has been taking the lead. The conscious parts of me aren’t too happy about this, but are doing their best to hold space for the resistance with grace, love and trust.
I’ve been reading a book recommended to me by my beautiful and wise sister. It’s called The Continuum Concept. It centers around how we humans (and all creatures of Nature) have evolved to expect life to unfold according to a continuum set forth by eons of adaptations for optimum living experience. However, over the past several generations, that continuum has been interrupted as we move further away from the Natural Order under the guise of civilization. (I am paraphrasing here, and will likely not do the book justice in my translation. I highly recommend reading the book if you find this idea at all interesting.)
The author explains that human infants have an innate expectation to be in constant contact with the mother’s (or other caregivers’) body at all times during the first stages of childhood. We are meant to experience life-in-progress via our caregiver’s going about their daily activities taking us along for the ride—much as one takes along a backpack. This allows us to observe the world in motion, and prepares us for what will be required of us when we begin to embark on our own self-led life experiences.
We are meant to be protected and provided for at all times so that our only responsibilities are to eat and poop, observe (visually and/or experientially) and sleep, and signal to our caregivers if those basic needs are not being met.
We are not designed to self-soothe by crying ourselves into a state of desperate defeat when separated from the safety of our caregiver’s body. In fact, if our continuum is uninterrupted, we have no reason to cry or wail at all. Instead, we feel safe and cared for, as expected, at all times, and our demeanor reflects that. We are not designed to be lying around alone and still in quiet inactive spaces. This does not teach us anything about life. We are meant to always feel safe, loved and a part of the community in order to develop into functional, confident, contributing members of that community as we age.
If our continuum is broken in those formative years, by not having those evolutionary needs and expectations met, we do not develop efficiently. We learn that we are not safe; that we will not always be provided for; that we are not lovable and do not belong.
And the worst of it is that when this happens, we tend to spend our lives unconsciously creating situations which keep us stuck in this lesser state of existence. It is how we first imprinted the experience of life, and, so, it is what we believe we are supposed to experience for the entirety of life.
Reading about this in such specific terms was hugely resonant for me. In fact, this very concept—in much vaguer shapes and strokes—has been presenting itself to me since before I even knew about this book. And in true synchronicity, the book came to me just when I needed it. It has been feeling so helpful to have my experience explained in a scientific psychobiological framework.
Throughout my life, I have repeated variations of the same pattern ad nauseam. I will notice myself getting motivated to bring more bliss into my life by doing things that I know feel good for me. I will start making progress with my efforts. I’ll feel amazing for a few weeks or so; only to then feel something inside me snap.
And, like clockwork, when the snap happens, I will find myself being compelled by some powerful, undefinable source to stop doing the things that elevate me in exchange for one or many of the old destructive behaviors that keep me from being my best. I can witness it happening, but cannot seem to overpower the urge to continue the downward spiral.
I’ve never understood why I was so powerless to change those behaviors, even (and especially) when I was aware of doing them, and aware of how much I didn’t want to be. It’s not as if these are even enjoyable experiences. They are just familiar and they keep me working at my imprinted status quo.
Thanks to The Continuum Concept, I have a clearer understanding of why I do this, and why it feels so impossible to act against it. I don’t feel that this clarity gives me license to just accept that this is what is and will always be. But I do feel like understanding the psychobiological underpinnings of this behavior allows me to have a little more grace with myself as I work to create a new imprint for myself.
This concept seems to layer nicely with Lacy Phillips’ Manifestation concepts. Her teachings include Shadowcraft and Reparenting programs which can help those of us with broken or interrupted continuums to rewrite those early imprinted stories. I gained a lot from working through her programs. Having created that foundation of deep inner reprogramming from my experiences with those workshops, I feel better equipped to dive in and start chipping away at that broken original imprint of what life is that was formed when I came into this world to an interrupted continuum experience.
So, now for the deep and intense interplay with my subconscious. Am I scared? Yup. Am I feeling resistance? Oh, hell yeah. Am I going to do my best to trudge forward anyway? Absolutely.
** I meant to post this back on 1 April, but somehow neglected to do so. Here it is now, if a little tardy. **
I’m feeling restless. This isn’t a new feeling for me. Not even close. It circles around at least once a year like a little satellite—consistent, reliable. This is the time of year it comes home to roost. Or, rather it comes home to try to shake me from mine.
It’s not surprising that I’d take notice most intently today, either. The Moon is in Sagittarius right now, planetary ruler of the Traveler.
While this restlessness is a familiar friend, I am having trouble greeting it this visit with my usual open and loving arms. On the one hand, this is now officially year 2 of a global pandemic that has rendered most of the world static and rooted, whether they want to be or no. But, on the other hand, I feel like I have just created a new nest for myself here in Asheville, and am feeling the need to call some place Home for a while. I’ve essentially been drifting, untethered, for all intents and purposes, since I set out for Hawaii in September of 2016.
What a long, strange trip these past 4+ years turned out to be.
This restlessness affects me in a number of ways. With a North Node in Sagittarius, I am awash with the Wanderlust. It stirs in me deeply and intensely. The specifics of what it looks like shifts and evolves, but it never diminishes. At present, I am happy establishing these roots here. I am ready for the security of a home base and all that comes with it. But my feet are still itchy for the open road. I long to see different horizons, experience different cultures, explore different landscapes and climates.
But the restlessness also invites me (forces me?) to question everything I’m doing in my life. It’s as if I’m being tested for complacency, and anywhere it shows up in these exams, I lose marks. It is at this time that I am asked to look my Soul in the [proverbial] eyes to see how well I’m following Her plan. Anywhere there is complacency, there is a nudge to make some course-corrections. I don’t know how this deep personal inventory process goes for you, but it is hella uncomfortable (okay … and crazy beautiful and necessary) for me.
When Restlessness comes to call, I am also made glaringly aware of my current state of connection—with the world, with family/friends/lovers and with my Self. The older I get the higher I score on the latter spoke and the lower on the first two. And while I’m proud of the honest and loving relationship I’ve cultivated with my Self, I find I am increasingly fearful of how often I am feeling lonely. (This is not to be confused with being alone. Being alone is a wonderful and necessary part of my life. Being lonely, however, sucks.) I know I have much Shadowcraft to do around relationships, and the Restlessness is a very blunt reminder to get started already.
I often wonder how I can contain so much feeling in this one small human body. It’s like there’s an enormous monsoon of emotion roiling and churning and twisting and turning and reaching and growing to the point it feels like I might explode into a million little bits of stardust at any moment.
But, I haven’t done that yet. For now, anyway, I’m still intact in this small human body. And I must trust that I have the tools I need to transform this monsoon into bliss. That’s what my gift is, after all: I am a conduit here to show the way to that kind of personal alchemy that comes from diving into the discomfort of the Shadow and merging with it in Holy Union. This is what turns it into gold, baby.
So, I will, once again, receive Restlessness when She comes to call. I will accept Her gifts, and use them to create a more beautiful life. And I will be richer for it. And so will the world.
Since entering Pisces season, I have been feeling myself submerged in the watery depths of emotional intensity. The powerful undercurrent of feeling has been taunting me and daunting for me. It ebbs and flows, and seems to surface at the most unexpected of moments.
I have found myself returning to old methods of distraction, despite my desire to do otherwise. Yet, I also have been feeling the pressing call to get back to my healthiest practices, and have had moments of riding high on the crests of these waves of bliss.
It’s always strange to me how I can continue to be surprised by the fact that no matter how much emotional excavation I do, there will always be more to unearth … ALWAYS.
In my yoga practice this evening, the instructor was speaking of clearing the cobwebs and debris from the joints in the body as a way to clear the mind and the heart, as well. I could feel that direct correlation as I gyrated and hinged each joint to the fullest range of motion I could muster. I was creating space, creating ease, lubricating the places in my body that are designed to move freely, but that, over time and mindless use have become stiff and unyielding and compacted. It felt physically amazing, but I also felt those close places in my heart and mind beginning to expand and become more flexible and accepting, as well.
Another interesting thing happened this week. Amid all the exhausting emotional experience, expressing and avoidance, my laptop died.
My laptop is my bridge with the wider world. It is necessary for much of the work I do. It is where I plan my life; where I budget and balance my finances; where I connect with friends and family. It is where I go to find inspiration and to express myself. I turn to it when I need to understand something that is eluding me, or to learn more about something that piques my interest. In short, it is an important part of my life, my way of communicating with the world around me, and my ability to earn an income.
And it died.
Goodbye, old friend.
I thought it was interesting that this tool that I spend so much of time and energy with on a daily basis was forcing an upgrade just as I was feeling my Soul forcing an upgrade with this emotional exodus that has been taking place within me.
I knew I was going to have to upgrade sometime sooner than later. My laptop was old. In Mac years it was ancient. And I was planning to replace it in the near-ish future. But I thought I had at least another 6 months to get my proverbial house in order; to prepare for the sometimes daunting task of becoming intimate with a new device; and of transferring my information from the old machine to the shiny new replacement.
Alas, I am now in the process of trying to navigate all that on the fly. And in a weird way, it’s really good for me. I’m generally a turtle kind of person. I am a big of the slow and steady wins the race philosophy. I like to take my time when transitioning to something new. More specifically, I like to take my time preparing for transitioning to something new. But being forced to do it quickly and outside my comfortable zone of timing and preparation is a good reminder that I am capable. I can do this. And with just a small shift in perspective, I can experience this as an exciting adventure rather than a stressful setback.
It is an opportunity to learn something new; an opportunity to catch up with new technology, which is likely to serve me well for the knowing. This sudden newness jolts me out of the complacency that inevitably tempts me to stay in the familiar and comfortable while limiting my growth and expansion.
I might make mistakes as I’m figuring it all out, but that’s fine. In fact, it’s helpful. It’s through failing that I am able to learn how to succeed.
This same attitude translates to my current state of emotional turmoil, too.
I call it turmoil, because it is definitely upsetting the smooth surface of equanimity I’ve been cultivating. But it isn’t a negative thing. Not at all. In fact, I consider it beautiful progress on my road to bliss.
I spent most of my life suppressing my emotions. I would tamp down my feelings until they could be expressed at a level that felt acceptable to those around me, which sometimes meant not expressing them at all. They would get packed down further and deeper within me until I became so rigid from the containment of it all that my body wasn’t able to move so freely for fear of shaking one of these errant emotions loose.
It took ages for me to recognize that I was even doing this. And it’s taken ages more to try to shift the habit so that I am able to actually feel my feelings when they arise and express them in whatever ways feel complete and whole for me. I still haven’t fully mastered this ability, but I’ve come a long way, baby. And I feel confident that I will never revert to that level of extreme emotional subversion ever again.
Now, it seems, those old emotional experiences that have been tucked away like trash in a compactor for so many years are finally starting to stretch out and move to the surface to be released; to create space for something new, some shiny replacement. I imagine it will create more space for vitality, prana, the rich and beautiful life force that is our birth right.
My challenge, now, is to find the strength and perseverance to allow the expression of these emotions, despite the lack of preparation for it. It sounds simple enough, but it is proving to be harder than it sounds. I’m still getting comfortable expressing emotions as they are elicited. Adding to that emotions that are surfacing with no attachment to identifiable sources is, to say the least, a lot.
Still, I am doing my best. I am showing up for myself as much as I can. And I’m forgiving myself when I fail. Just as with the new technology I’m learning, failure on this emotional journey will teach me how to succeed. If I start feeling some Big Feelings bubbling to the surface, and I feel overwhelmed by them, I might choose to turn to an old distraction and numbing method as a way to cope with it all. However, this will leave me feeling unsatisfied. I will feel emotionally unfulfilled and physically depleted. I can learn from that failure. I can make note of how that choice feels, and that I don’t really enjoy it. Then I can choose something else next time it happens. Eventually, I will find a way to express these emotions that feels safe and complete and freeing for me. And I will feel uplifted, healthier and happier as a result.
And then, when I’m a pro at that, I’ll find another challenge awaiting me … if I’m lucky. This is just another experiment in bliss, after all.
I awake to a landscape draped in fluffy white. The snow started falling late yesterday. By the time I retired to bed the flakes were fat and fluffy and laying down one upon another instead of melting away as has been the case with most of the now here this year.
Lying in my bed, indulging in a little Sunday morning reading, I am distracted from my book by the gleeful squeals of children outside the window. I glance out to see them twirling and swirling down the snowy hill in the park next to my home. They almost look like little snowflakes themselves, though they are too colorful in their bright primary-hued snow gear.
I am feeling wistful. And restless. These feeling have been stirring awhile, but the snowy landscape brings them into sharp focus.
I am longing for a simpler life. I seem to conjure this longing in perpetuity. I greet it again and again and again. And while my life is not terribly complicated, nor unpleasant, I still feel this yearning for something simpler.
My natural (and insatiable) curiosity has had me questioning what that even means. And, surprisingly, I believe I have unearthed an answer. I have, through pure receptivity and the magick of inspiration, distilled it down to a few simple requirements:
consistent connection with friends, family and community
daily communion with Nature
thriving health and wellness
creative expression
a feeling of satisfaction from being of service to the world
That’s it. That’s what I want. That’s what I need. That’s what I crave in my bones. The rest is just so much flotsam picked up along the journey.
The challenging thing is that right now, I am not getting the connection with people I need due to the effects of a global pandemic. I have not yet found sacred places in Nature in my new hometown to frolic and commune freely in solitude (or semi-solitude), so I’ve not been getting that need met. The state of my health and wellness has been teetering as I do my best to take care of myself, while also falling into old unhealthy emotional habits to soothe myself over the lack of nourishment to my spirit from the not getting those first two needs met.
I have been able to maintain creative expression, thankfully, but its effects become tarnished when I am feeling already so incomplete from the aforementioned deficiencies.
The last foundational element—a feeling of satisfaction from being of service to the world—has long plagued me. I have felt this feeling on various occasions in my life, but I find myself perpetually wondering why I am here and what I am meant to do. This is a philosophical question that is asked by many, and there is nothing unique in it. Still, it plagues me at times like this. I have many gifts and talents. And I love to share them. But how? With whom? When? (sigh)
I was so eager to greet this snowy day. It seemed like an opportunity to be quiet with the outer world, as if it would join me in this quiet contemplation, reveling in the slow pace that snowy days can afford.
But now the sun is rising and shining and the snow is already melting on the boughs, sliding off the roofs, and making soggy puddles in the yard below.
So I will sink into my melancholy for a moment longer before extricating myself from this cozy cocoon and getting on with my day. Snow or no, it’s still a beautiful morning.
There’s a card in the Tarot known as the Tower. It’s usually the sixteenth card in the Major Arcana. The classic imagery is of a, well, tower, that has been struck by lightning to its total destruction. There are sometimes images of people falling from the tower to their demise, too. It’s a pretty intense card.
image courtesy of pinterest
Here’s what Aeclectic.net has to say about the Tower card:
In a moment, it is over. The Tower is rubble, only rocks remaining. Stunned and shaken to the core, the Fool experiences profound fear and disbelief. But also, a strange clarity of vision, as if his inner eye has finally opened. He tore down his resistance to change and sacrifice (Hanged man), then came to terms with Death (Death); he learned about moderation and synthesis (Temperance) and about power (The Devil). But here and now, he has done what was hardest: he destroyed the lies of his life. What’s left are the foundations of truth. On this he can rebuild himself.
Many people read the Tower card as negative, and fear it’s presence in a spread. I, however, almost always see it as a good thing. For most of my readings, the Tower card tells about a complete breaking down of the foundational beliefs and perceived truths upon which we once built our lives, making space for the rebuilding of new truths and ideas that more accurately reflect the evolved person we have become. It’s sort of like the old Etch-A-Sketch toys that erase everything previously drawn when you shake them up a bit.
I bring this up here, because I am currently living the Tower card. Fair warning: This post is going to be raw and real. There will be no sugar-coating here. If you have no interest in reading about the intimate details of the lives of others, you may want to click over to a site featuring kitten memes, or whatever you’re into.
I am not exactly sure when the lightning bolt actually struck my tower. Well, that’s not entirely true, if I really think about it. Perhaps it would be best to say that my tower has been sustaining some pretty potent damage over the past couple years.
My time at Kanekiki Farm on the Big Island of Hawaii was definitely instrumental in creating some cracks in the foundations. I experienced an entirely different way of being in the world while I was there. I was fully submersed in a supportive, cooperative community. I was encouraged to, and given the resources to, take a long, hard look at how I was living my life, how I was connecting with others, and how I was sharing myself with the world. On the farm, our foods were raw, our emotions were raw, and our interactions were raw. It was simultaneously glorious and heartbreaking, terrifying and exciting. And my experiences there really ignited a spark of new awareness deep within me.
After Kanekiki, I spent the rest of the year traveling the globe, sometimes with a companion, but mostly solo. With every new country visited, I felt new shifts in my foundations, new cracks in my walls. I found myself hastily patching rents where I could, but my heart wasn’t really in it. This was simply the reflexive response to the fear brought on by the drafts from these chinks in my shelter.
Instead of feeling the freedom I was craving, I found myself feeling more and more trapped. I was living in the most stunning exotic locations, and all I could focus on was how miserable I was feeling. I would be surrounded by new people, new opportunities, new experiences, and instead of reveling in it, as I had expected to, I found myself shrinking in a mindset of lack, of loneliness, of fear.
Oh, the shame of it all! Shame of feeling these dark and heavy feelings in these light and beautiful places weighed down on me. It was so heavy and so brutish that it began to shake the walls of my tower of identity, leaving me with real concerns about whether or not I could sustain it all.
There was a brief reprieve when my sister joined me in Greece for her birthday. But soon that came to an end, and, with it, my time of wandering the world. Things just got shakier after that.
I returned to the States with no real plan, no money, and no idea what to do. I knew I had changed so profoundly since leaving my home for Hawaii all those months ago, but I hadn’t really had time to process who I had become or, rather, who I was still becoming. I was lost, but I took refuge in my tower. It might not be as sturdy as it once was, but it was familiar, and that felt safe.
After several months of questioning, wallowing, and job-hunting, I finally decided to start my new life in Austin. I arrived with a job, but no place to live, and still no money. But I was feeling determined to make it work. I spent three months living in my compact sedan. I kept telling myself that it was an awesome adventure, but when I got really honest with myself, I was met with embarrassment, discomfort, a strong sense of failure, and yet more shame. I didn’t choose to live like this. I was living in my car because I couldn’t afford to live anywhere else.
How could I be living like this at my age? What’s wrong with me? I have no house, no partner, no kids, no community, and no clue. Why can’t I get my life together?
This, I believe, was the final lightning strike that collapsed my already shaky tower. It kindled that inner spark born at Kanekiki, and the whole thing went up in flames and came down in a tumble of stones and bones.
Knee-deep in rubble, I realized that I have been living my life half asleep for a very long time. I have been operating from a place of knowing what I didn’t want, but having no idea what I did want. I will never be able to cultivate a life that makes me happy until I understand what it is that will make me happy. Out of the debris of all the challenging experiences during my journey, I was able to start piecing together a new picture of what I want my life to look and feel like. I began to have a clearer understanding of what I want. And in that moment, I began the slow and steady process of rebuilding my tower.
I’ve made some progress, but, as with any construction gig, there have been setbacks. And I really have no clear idea when my completion date will actually be. I’m still undergoing some pretty intense moments of destruction, too. It’s like I’m now in the dance of one step forward, two steps back.
Once in Austin, work was slow to start, but with just a little time, I built a strong base of wonderful and loyal clients. (Add a new layer of bricks and mortar!) This allowed me to find a better living situation. I still didn’t have a ton of money, and Austin is a crazy expensive city, but I was lucky enough to find a room for rent in a home in one of my favorite neighborhoods. It was in walking distance to a grocery store, to my job, to downtown, and to a free public natural springs swimming pool. It was unbelievably cheap, too. (Yes! Add a brick, please!) I would be living with two other folks around my age – an artist and a yoga instructor/musician. (Awesome! Another brick!) It sounded amazing. I was so grateful to be out of the car, and into a proper house. But I soon realized that, while the price and location were perfect, the living situation was not. One housemate was great, but the other, the one who was there all the time, was very, let’s just say, difficult. I was doing my best to hold space for him, to send him love as a fellow human being who was doing his best in this world. But, I was sitting in a pile of rubble, man! I just didn’t have the internal resources to manage that crap. So, my fledging foundation took another hit.
Then I decided to move to Asheville, to be close to my sister and her new baby. Meeting my niece for the first time really filled me with love and provided some unexpected clarity. Moving here, and seeing her nearly everyday, continues to do so. More bricks in the walls! Hooray!
But, my new job, which seemed so bright and shiny before I moved, is starting much slower than I’d hoped. And no one working there is ever as busy as I was at my job in Austin. This concerns me. Potential damage could come of this, though I’m trying my darnedest to stay positive.
Another wrecking ball came to tear down some of the new building when my car, Gertie, finally gave up the ghost. So, now I have no car, a job that has yet to convince me it will pay my bills, and no second job – as my second job was as a delivery driver … which kinda requires a car. (More rubble.)
Luckily, my sister has offered to share her car with me, so all is not lost. (And … add a few more bricks, thank you!)
But, still, here I sit in a construction site of a life that looks like it’s being overseen by Animal from the Muppets. My life is a mess. Nothing is certain. I can’t read my blueprints because I’ve been crying. A lot.
But this is what happens when we are letting go of old limiting beliefs, old structures of identity and old paradigms of perceived truth. Those old thoughts and behaviors fight back. We have to struggle with them a bit in order to get them to release. Sometimes it might seem like they are winning, and this is when the tower begins to falter. But other times we can subdue them and make some real progress in the reconstruction of this new tower, this new life, this new identity.
[Your Ego, aka. your old limiting belief system] will do everything it can to stop you from changing and growing, especially since you’re attempting to obliterate the very identity that you and everyone else has come to know as “you”. Growth ain’t for weenies, but it’s nowhere near as painful as living the life you’re living right now if you’re not really going for it.
I’m determined to stay with this rebuild as long as it takes, but I sure do hope there’s more progress than regress from here on out. I’m using my Summer of Reinvention to experiment with new practices and routines that will help me to be more productive, more actively engaged, and more blissful (of course!) in my life. I’m feeling really hopeful. And I am feeling some momentum. And that feels good.
Have you ever had an experience in which everything you held to be fundamentally true about your self/life completely fell apart? If so, please feel welcomed to share your experience, and/or what tools you used in your rebuild. I’d love to hear from you and connect over this shared experience!
Thanks for taking the time to make it all the way to the end of this long and confessional post. I am so grateful for you!
(This post originally appeared on my professional website: www.experiments-in-bliss.com. Find additional information for living the blissful life of your dreams there.)
Transformation has long been a recurring theme in my life. I feel like we are all always transforming, always evolving, growing, changing in some way or another. Some of us do this with awareness and intention, others with complete obliviousness. Still, change is constant. However, sometimes change gets upgraded to CHANGE. There are moments in some lives that herald intensely profound, fundamental, life-shifting transformation. In Shamanic traditions, these profound shifts are often called dismemberments.
This is just as it sounds: It is a total dismembering of the Self and Soul in which we tear apart the life and self-image we’ve spent a lifetime building to create space for the re-creation of a new life that more closely aligns with our soul’s true purpose. It is sometimes light, easy, and enjoyable. But, for many, it can be a heavy and confusing string of gut-wrenching challenges that can drag on indefinitely. This puts me in mind of the Blondie lyrics: “She’s so dull … come on, rip her to shreds!”
According to Tim at Alchemists Journal, “there are likely many degrees to which we experience a dismemberment reflected in our daily lives. I’m sure it is often not even noticeable, just a graceful shift in course. Sometimes, however, much greater transformation seems to be required, one in which every aspect of our lives is offered up for possible demolition.” Either way, the outcome is a shiny new life of purpose and contribution and, presumably, bliss. Tim continues: “That’s … the reason we ultimately surrender to it: Our soul is already awakened to the potential we are in the process of fulfilling. As we are laid bare, reduced to the most fundamental aspects of ourselves, our soul’s calling can be much more easily heard.”
According to Nancy Sherwood of Traveller’s Joy, “dismantling anything takes time, and the ego does not like this loss. But the Spirit can be strong, and can transform apparent death into rebirth.” I liken this experience to the Tower card in the tarot. It’s about totally leveling the foundational structures we’ve built for ourselves. Everything we know to be true is challenged, questioned, scrutinized, and either validated, or deemed no longer relevant and discarded to make space for something better suited for the current environment. Many people view the Tower card with fear and disappointment when it appears in a spread. But I have always revered it as a great harbinger of Hope. It’s an opportunity for refinement which, if taken, can lead to beautiful new experiences and greater ease on life’s journey. Keeping this attitude during a period of dismemberment can be decidedly helpful.
Sherwood also makes an interesting point here:
“Space is defined as a feminine aspect in Buddhism, and form a masculine one. The dance between the two is what takes place here on earth, where form has been given such a major role that it is dismembering the earth itself.”
I understand her to be observing the imbalance created in our ‘civilized’ modern lives. Where once we had much more balance between the feminine and masculine aspects of energy in our world, we now offer much more weight and power to the masculine – form over space, action over reception, external over internal, and, accordingly, extrospection over introspection. Under this paradigm we are not only faced with the challenges inherent in a lack of natural balance, but our resources for how to process information and experience on an interpersonal level is diminished.
From a macrocosmic perspective, there seems to be some dismemberment work taking place in the world of late. The #metoo movement, #blacklivesmatter, natural disasters, and upheavals in the political arenas are clear evidence of this.
On a personal, microcosmic level, I have been experiencing a very profound dismemberment adventure. Upon my relocation to Austin, I joined a Shamanic women’s group in an effort to meet people, and reconnect with the spiritual community in the city and the spiritual community within myself. Our group meets regularly for Shamanic Journeying as well as Goddess Culture exploration and celebration of the Divine Feminine. It’s been very powerful and healing for me to be a part of this circle of women exploring our relationships to Spirit. The journey work we do is very similar to the Internal Family Systems work I was doing just before I left Durham. I’ve missed doing that IFS work, and am grateful to be exploring this kind of self-guided, but guide-supported internal work again.
During the past two journeying sessions I have had experiences of my physical body being completely dissolved into ash and crystal glitter dust, respectively. Neither experiences were frightening for me. In fact, they were liberating and beautiful. I felt safe and loved and protected the entire time. When I shared my experiences with the group, one of my mentors told me about dismemberment journeys within the Shamanic school of thought. This was the first time I had heard this particular phrase; though, of course, the idea of death and rebirth are shared by many of the world’s religions, myths, and cultures, and was very familiar to me. Having this new lens through which to view my experience has been very enlightening. I already was aware of the fact that I am in the midst of a long and drawn out transformation of some kind, but I, in my Ego-driven mind, assumed it was because I was actively making choices to create change. And, while, to a certain degree, this true, it’s also hubristic.
When I look back over the past couple years, noticing the plans I’ve had and the way those plans were (or were not) made manifest, it is clear to me that I am not the primary driver here. Every day I become more aware of new opportunities to come more fully into what I can only describe as my True Self. And while it’s very hopeful and exciting, I also notice myself dipping into my bag of tried and true modes of avoidance. These behaviors that I’ve picked up along the way to distract me from the discomfort of deep and powerful Change always show up when my Ego is feeling challenged for control of my life. I am grateful for the awareness of it. And I am hopeful for the strength to dismember those disruptive patterns, too. I know my Soul is fierce and strong. I also know she has the courage and fortitude to be soft if I can only let her. (It’s this that seems to be most challenging for me.) So, these visions in which I am being reduced to nothing but tiny bits of earth, and rebuilt as a more complete, updated version of myself provide me with invaluable encouragement that I am on the right path and I am equipped to succeed through this part of my journey. I have a spiritual community available and willing to act as my support system. I have a physical community available and willing to act as my support system. And I can do this.
Should you find yourself in the midst of a dismemberment journey, whether gentle or brutal, you may find the following tools to be helpful. Either way, I wish you love and strength and softness on your path!
TOOLS FOR NAVIGATING POWERFUL LIFE TRANSFORMATIONS:
Seek out a professional guide. This could be a Shamanic Healer, a mental health professional, a certified counselor, a religious teacher/advisor, or a group experienced with navigating big life changes. Having this kind of trained guidance can not only provide comfort and structure to your transition, but it can make the experience much safer, too.
Find some personal person support. Tell a friend or family member what you are doing, and enlist their help when things are feeling challenging or during those times when you need to establish new routines and new ways of integrating with others.
Practice some form of meditative strategy. This can be Shamanic Journeying, or any other kind of meditative practice that resonates for you. Since these kind of life-altering transformational shifts are often initiated by the Soul, it is helpful to have a vehicle in which you can regularly converse with your Soul in its own language. Any ‘meta’ practice will do as long as you feel a connection to the spirit realm, or soul level, when you practice it.
Document your experiences with Spirit. I really enjoy journaling post-journey to document my experience. I gain added insights when I go back and read, and re-read, those entries. Some people like to paint, compose music, or choreograph dance. The possibilities are endless. Choose a form of documentation that feels powerful to you and that allows you to express your experience in a way that gives you access to it again and again.
Pay Attention! Start to notice your life more fully. Be aware of new opportunities opening up for you. Notice people, relationships, experiences coming into or leaving your life. Be mindful about any learned habitual responses to the discomfort you may be experiencing. And even search for signs of discomfort that you might be trying to bury in shadow. This is a time of Change, and watching it all unfold with focused awareness can make for an incredibly rich and informative experience.
Get out of the way. It can be tempting to try to control everything that’s happening during these times of intense transition. And it’s perfectly fine to be an active participant in your life. But there’s a fine line between active participant and steamroller. If you find your attempts at directing energy in a particular way are being thwarted at every turn, then maybe recognize that there may be a better direction for that energy. Get out of the way and let Spirit guide you toward what that new direction is.
Keep calm and carry on. It may sound trite, but, really, the best thing you can do during this time, in my humble opinion, is to relax into it. Try to keep a positive outlook, remembering that your Soul is guiding you to greater heights. You are never asked to do anything more than what you are capable of doing. And it really is going to be fine. Sometimes when we stop struggling, we realize it was the struggle, not the situation, that was making things so unpleasant. So, shift your gaze to the positive. Become your own Pollyanna. And enjoy the ride.
experimentsinbliss 