It is simultaneously both terrifying and endlessly amusing just how much power a single person can hold.
My day yesterday was dreary and sleep filled. Playing catch up with everyone I hadn't seen in years drained me. Alcohol consumption, which happens once in a blue moon these days, didn't help my cause any. While talking to my ex for a few minutes before she dropped me off, my speech became less than it should be. I began to say "leaved" rather than "left" and caught myself. We had just been talking about how she's happy that I'm going back to school and I shouldn't be wasting my intelligence. So when I made that mistake in speech, my brain nearly reverted back to thinking "WTF? I thought I was done with this inarticulate, grammatically incorrect chemo infested bullshit." But she looked at me (after laughing of course), and said "See why I limit who I hang out with and how often? You absorb people easily like me." A fact which I've been very well aware of for the past few years but to hear her say it- something she never voiced in the 4 years we spent together, was kind of amazing. I had a giant *phew* moment and realized that with all the alcohol consumption I had let my bubble down and absorbed my surroundings. A moment of sadness followed as the people I was surrounded by have giant, kind hearts. But if I'm 100% honest, energetically we don't vibe as well as we used to anymore. So while I need not write them off completely, our interactions will need to stay minimal if I wish to continue refining my energy field and operate at full capacity.
Today also began dreary. It's been colder than I became accustomed to after an east coast summer and SoCal fall. The sky was overcast and for the life of me I couldn't find my thumb drive to send and print resumes. In tearing apart my belongings that have yet to be put away, an envelope fell out of The Alchemist. It instantly made me smile and so I expressed myself accordingly to the sender. I then took Scrappy out into the backyard to pee. As my phone vibrated notifying me of the responding text, the clouds literally parted. The sun peeked and then flooded my face. A Robin came and sat in my tree singing his song, showing off his beautiful red breast. The power of people...
Showing posts with label self-awareness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label self-awareness. Show all posts
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
Sunday, December 1, 2013
Sensory Snacks
This morning the clover called me outside. Bejeweled with a mixture of sun and dew, our yard took on a rainbow hue. 2 doves sat nestled in the tree as a teeny hummingbird came to greet me.
Today was more of a visual aural kind of trip down memory lane with both the past and present colliding. Possibly the future as well, though I don't like to predict those kinds of things. An old partner in crime whom I haven't seen nor really heard from since my sophmore year of high school added me on Facebook. I "ran away" to his house when I was 14. That wasn't my initial intention but it kinda sorta happened momentarily. Long story not worth jotting down but needless to say my brain flooded with the hours we all spent together before and after school being bad asses. As life would have it, hours after our initial contact, I accompanied my mom to get her hair cut. The salon is in a neighborhood I spent 4 years trotting through each day after school with said being along with others. So as I waited, I walked around to explore this blooming neighborhood that once was pretty desolate. My soul was soothed with the random street art I saw as it's been a bit starved since leaving Brooklyn. After just writing about flight, the first piece I stumbled upon was none other than Ms. Amelia Earhart.
We walked and walked and walked some more. My mom is used to driving but her car broke down so it was back to basics and my own favorite. The sun was warm and I began to sweat, layered in clothes forgetting how each neighborhood here has its own climate. So much has changed since I've been away and today was quite beautiful rediscovering the city I was born in. She's blooming.
Today was more of a visual aural kind of trip down memory lane with both the past and present colliding. Possibly the future as well, though I don't like to predict those kinds of things. An old partner in crime whom I haven't seen nor really heard from since my sophmore year of high school added me on Facebook. I "ran away" to his house when I was 14. That wasn't my initial intention but it kinda sorta happened momentarily. Long story not worth jotting down but needless to say my brain flooded with the hours we all spent together before and after school being bad asses. As life would have it, hours after our initial contact, I accompanied my mom to get her hair cut. The salon is in a neighborhood I spent 4 years trotting through each day after school with said being along with others. So as I waited, I walked around to explore this blooming neighborhood that once was pretty desolate. My soul was soothed with the random street art I saw as it's been a bit starved since leaving Brooklyn. After just writing about flight, the first piece I stumbled upon was none other than Ms. Amelia Earhart.
We walked and walked and walked some more. My mom is used to driving but her car broke down so it was back to basics and my own favorite. The sun was warm and I began to sweat, layered in clothes forgetting how each neighborhood here has its own climate. So much has changed since I've been away and today was quite beautiful rediscovering the city I was born in. She's blooming.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Uranian Alien
I'm not sure why but I've never liked being called names. Or rather, when I give that statement more thought, I've never taken kindly to someone else defining me. While I realize that kids tease and it's just what they do, as an adult I realize I mostly had it pretty easy comparatively. Yet regardless, if there was one thing that got my blood absolutely boiling and exploding with tears, it was being called a name. "Casper" followed me through several years, Dolly Parton Jr. (I developed early), Jessica Rabbit, Powder and the worst and the earliest from 1st grade onwards: Risa's Pieces.
Writing that list I feel silly. But what it all boiled down to was simply "Who the fuck are you to define me?" On top of the fact that rarely have I been comfortable with the amount of attention I receive. Especially for something as base as body parts. My mom tried to teach me, she really did. She would tell me to own it with a comeback like "At least I'm sweet!" (In response to Risa's pieces) But it still got under my skin like no other. Obviously I've learned to own it as an adult and ET was the one who changed my mind. If an alien loved the candy, then maybe it wasn't so bad.
My mom has always driven me slightly crazy. I suppose that's what a mothers job is but the more I become reacquainted with myself, I'm realizing that in my case, she was and still is teaching me to own a part of my light that I've struggled with since birth. She is an Aquarius, ruled by Uranus.
As in my last post discussing my dynamic duo of love and death, my light, my sun, simply cannot be defined without the revolutionary spirit Uranus embodies. They too, are joined at the hip for better or for worse in this soul of mine. (S)he is androgynous. A fiery and feisty bizarre being stirring up the status quo. (S)he intuits messages unheard by the masses and inspires revolution to occur so higher, enlightened ideals may be acheived. Needless to say, those who live their quiet comfy lives content to stagnate don't always receive Uranus well, especially tied to a Plutonic sun. My light is that of an Uranian alien. Where Saturn is about restriction, Uranus is boundless and doesn't wish to be defined as that would only limit all that (s)he is and can be. So as a child, I fought being put in box. I'll decide which box to put myself in, and then shift it when and how I see fit.
I have tempered myself over the years, and shunned my light in recent ones. If I am to wholly accept myself and shine my light with all my might I must 100% own the gift that my Mother has given me and accept that I am bizarre in moments, crazy to those who can't see, and will piss people off by stirring up their lives. Yet I trust and own that this gift I've been given is for the greater good of those I touch, whether they or I can see it or not. Today I am grateful for rediscovering another piece of myself.
Writing that list I feel silly. But what it all boiled down to was simply "Who the fuck are you to define me?" On top of the fact that rarely have I been comfortable with the amount of attention I receive. Especially for something as base as body parts. My mom tried to teach me, she really did. She would tell me to own it with a comeback like "At least I'm sweet!" (In response to Risa's pieces) But it still got under my skin like no other. Obviously I've learned to own it as an adult and ET was the one who changed my mind. If an alien loved the candy, then maybe it wasn't so bad.
My mom has always driven me slightly crazy. I suppose that's what a mothers job is but the more I become reacquainted with myself, I'm realizing that in my case, she was and still is teaching me to own a part of my light that I've struggled with since birth. She is an Aquarius, ruled by Uranus.
As in my last post discussing my dynamic duo of love and death, my light, my sun, simply cannot be defined without the revolutionary spirit Uranus embodies. They too, are joined at the hip for better or for worse in this soul of mine. (S)he is androgynous. A fiery and feisty bizarre being stirring up the status quo. (S)he intuits messages unheard by the masses and inspires revolution to occur so higher, enlightened ideals may be acheived. Needless to say, those who live their quiet comfy lives content to stagnate don't always receive Uranus well, especially tied to a Plutonic sun. My light is that of an Uranian alien. Where Saturn is about restriction, Uranus is boundless and doesn't wish to be defined as that would only limit all that (s)he is and can be. So as a child, I fought being put in box. I'll decide which box to put myself in, and then shift it when and how I see fit.
I have tempered myself over the years, and shunned my light in recent ones. If I am to wholly accept myself and shine my light with all my might I must 100% own the gift that my Mother has given me and accept that I am bizarre in moments, crazy to those who can't see, and will piss people off by stirring up their lives. Yet I trust and own that this gift I've been given is for the greater good of those I touch, whether they or I can see it or not. Today I am grateful for rediscovering another piece of myself.
Friday, November 22, 2013
Pilgrimage
"You cannot carry anyone's pain for them. You must remember that everyone has their own path they must walk."
In February of 2010 I made one of my usual trips to New York. One night, I made plans to meet my best friend half way between him and I at a train station. I hadn't seen him in a few years due to a fight we had and my own stubbornness. I remember walking down the stairs of the station and my eyes swallowing every piece of him. It's funny how you can find home 3,000 miles away from your physical one. On our way to meet up with mutual friends he exploded with words and dreams as he always does and presented me with a dream I had had that I never imagined being able to actually touch.
A few years prior in the height of my Paulo Coelho obsession I read his book, The Pilgrimage. What an experience! I've always existed as equal parts city girl and nature faerie and yet mostly been surrounded by people that will only camp in cabins, let alone cross the entirety of Spain on foot. So when he told me he was going and asked me to come with him, my soul was literally torn in half. Moving back to SF from NY 8 months prior hadn't proved as lucrative as I thought it would be. My bar tending shifts had been replaced and I just wasn't making the money I was accustomed to. Also, I had decided that I had given up on NY too easily. If I really wanted to stretch myself, I'd have to try again and not even consider moving back an option no matter what happened. Yet as it stood, I only had enough money to choose one. Move to New York, see where that led and be able to see him along with everyone else as often as I liked, or buy my ticket to Spain and spend 2 months there with him at the end of which I'd return to SF. I chose New York.
It's a decision I regretted from the second I stepped off the plane. But looking back I realize that New York was my pilgrimage. When I think back to 16 year old me walking through the streets of lower Manhattan, I realize I’ve never known why I felt that initial tug to live there, just that it was of utmost importance and something that couldn’t be ignored. I seemed to be able to inhale deeper there and over the next few years my heart leaped with every mention of the city.
Reflecting on the girl who stepped off the plane 11 years ago when I first moved, I'm reminded of how brave and adventurous my heart is. I leapt from everything familiar into the complete unknown without a soul beside me. Until recently, I always saw that move as a failure considering it only lasted for 3 months. Time is no longer a deciding factor for me though as the end creation is what ripples onwards. New York may not have lasted for me on that go around because while I thought I knew how to live, I hadn't yet learned how to die.
Death is an absolutely essential part of life. Throughout the years we accumulate so much stuff. Baggage. Ideas and beliefs we hold about ourselves and others and life. It begins at birth and when I first moved to my city of shadows, I didn't know how to transform myself. I only knew that my shining gem, what I was good at, at that point, was science, education and dance. I was too young to realize there were so many other parts of myself to be explored. Looking back, even then, the shadows lurked. One of my roommates was a dancer on broadway - a dream I once held, that I never fulfilled. That same roommate also introduced me to the pro side of MAC as she had her performer discount with them. She was both my past dream that I never lived and a glimpse into my future though I didn't realize it at the time.
Older and hopefully a bit wiser, this time around I learned how to use what I knew, and build upon and transform what I was to get what I wanted. Now, while I can't say I feel entirely successful in accomplishing what I wanted while there, the journey made me confront nearly every single fear I had and even those I didn't know existed. New York placed a huge mirror deep into the bowels of my soul and made my darkness a reality. I came face to face with pieces of myself I didn't want to believe existed. And at the end of it all, I'm still here. A little bruised, a little shaken but aware. Now that I can readily see what I refused to before, I can decide whether or not I want to keep those pieces or not. Those pieces are luggage, baggage. While some are pretty accessories that I can adorn myself with from time to time, there's others that serve absolutely no purpose any longer. Had I not been brought face to face with them they would have continued to ride along like barnacles feeding on everything that my soul devours without really offering anything of sustenance in return.
As much as it still to this day pains me, I'm not so sure I would have faced as many shadows had I chosen 2 months in Spain over 3.5 years in New York. Only now that I know my shadows, do I feel like I can walk beside and play with the sun.
In February of 2010 I made one of my usual trips to New York. One night, I made plans to meet my best friend half way between him and I at a train station. I hadn't seen him in a few years due to a fight we had and my own stubbornness. I remember walking down the stairs of the station and my eyes swallowing every piece of him. It's funny how you can find home 3,000 miles away from your physical one. On our way to meet up with mutual friends he exploded with words and dreams as he always does and presented me with a dream I had had that I never imagined being able to actually touch.
A few years prior in the height of my Paulo Coelho obsession I read his book, The Pilgrimage. What an experience! I've always existed as equal parts city girl and nature faerie and yet mostly been surrounded by people that will only camp in cabins, let alone cross the entirety of Spain on foot. So when he told me he was going and asked me to come with him, my soul was literally torn in half. Moving back to SF from NY 8 months prior hadn't proved as lucrative as I thought it would be. My bar tending shifts had been replaced and I just wasn't making the money I was accustomed to. Also, I had decided that I had given up on NY too easily. If I really wanted to stretch myself, I'd have to try again and not even consider moving back an option no matter what happened. Yet as it stood, I only had enough money to choose one. Move to New York, see where that led and be able to see him along with everyone else as often as I liked, or buy my ticket to Spain and spend 2 months there with him at the end of which I'd return to SF. I chose New York.
It's a decision I regretted from the second I stepped off the plane. But looking back I realize that New York was my pilgrimage. When I think back to 16 year old me walking through the streets of lower Manhattan, I realize I’ve never known why I felt that initial tug to live there, just that it was of utmost importance and something that couldn’t be ignored. I seemed to be able to inhale deeper there and over the next few years my heart leaped with every mention of the city.
Reflecting on the girl who stepped off the plane 11 years ago when I first moved, I'm reminded of how brave and adventurous my heart is. I leapt from everything familiar into the complete unknown without a soul beside me. Until recently, I always saw that move as a failure considering it only lasted for 3 months. Time is no longer a deciding factor for me though as the end creation is what ripples onwards. New York may not have lasted for me on that go around because while I thought I knew how to live, I hadn't yet learned how to die.
Death is an absolutely essential part of life. Throughout the years we accumulate so much stuff. Baggage. Ideas and beliefs we hold about ourselves and others and life. It begins at birth and when I first moved to my city of shadows, I didn't know how to transform myself. I only knew that my shining gem, what I was good at, at that point, was science, education and dance. I was too young to realize there were so many other parts of myself to be explored. Looking back, even then, the shadows lurked. One of my roommates was a dancer on broadway - a dream I once held, that I never fulfilled. That same roommate also introduced me to the pro side of MAC as she had her performer discount with them. She was both my past dream that I never lived and a glimpse into my future though I didn't realize it at the time.
Older and hopefully a bit wiser, this time around I learned how to use what I knew, and build upon and transform what I was to get what I wanted. Now, while I can't say I feel entirely successful in accomplishing what I wanted while there, the journey made me confront nearly every single fear I had and even those I didn't know existed. New York placed a huge mirror deep into the bowels of my soul and made my darkness a reality. I came face to face with pieces of myself I didn't want to believe existed. And at the end of it all, I'm still here. A little bruised, a little shaken but aware. Now that I can readily see what I refused to before, I can decide whether or not I want to keep those pieces or not. Those pieces are luggage, baggage. While some are pretty accessories that I can adorn myself with from time to time, there's others that serve absolutely no purpose any longer. Had I not been brought face to face with them they would have continued to ride along like barnacles feeding on everything that my soul devours without really offering anything of sustenance in return.
As much as it still to this day pains me, I'm not so sure I would have faced as many shadows had I chosen 2 months in Spain over 3.5 years in New York. Only now that I know my shadows, do I feel like I can walk beside and play with the sun.
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