I pull cards so that I may get messages as I cannot read for myself and of late, there has been a theme. Get prepared bitch, because we prefer you get the fact that you should never plan a thing, that we know what you are to do...you do not.
My response? I'm off to the La Push for fierce ocean storm watching, writing, cleansing...alone time.
I can take it when the lightening bolts hits. I can even find gratefulness in the warning, for being prepared is not a horrible thing. Making plans is futile in this life I find me in and I will find my way to a joy in that. Experience is a bed partner I can embrace over suspension, for suspension lingers in nothingness. Experience is the explorer and dangles the leap into the new, which I am an expert at.
This card bugs the fuck out of me, but it also challenges me to ready myself for...anything.
Disruption
Disruption
This marker warns of a shaky foundation placed on a fault line. At best, this reminds you that shake-ups are necessary when you need a wake-up call. It’s a warning for you to be diligent and alert when making decisions. This can also portend a toppling of plans, ideas, or a total destruction of something hard won, worked for, or desired.
Be reminded that the way of the God/Goddess is one of mystery and chaos, and chaos is the ultimate cleanser. Disruption brings delays and upsets that have a hidden gift of opportunity within them.
This is the time to rethink, rebuild, and refortify that which was previously unstable, or it allows you to begin anew. Without this gift, you wouldn’t be adequately supported later on, when you’ll need it most.
The greater message reminds you that, in life, all people, places, concepts, and things are but fleeting on the path to wholeness. Only Spirit is stable and eternal. Such is the Wisdom of Avalon.
Also, don’t hold on to things that do not serve you or that you’re
not wearing anymore! This goes for the accumulation of stuff you thought
fitting for the life you were leading, but clearly are no longer. This is my
current struggle as I said I would deal with my shit/stuff with my time here in
the States, but I am doing an awful job of it.
Why? Because as much as I want to be free of all the things
that feel a burden now that I’m not the Pagan Martha Stewart I once was, it
also feels a burden to sell it all. And fuck have I accumulated a mass of
clothes, décor, and what nots.
The pressure set upon me by myself and one who will not be
named, has backfired in my face. The more I say I will do this, the more I don’t.
Its immature bullshit and I know it. But I am insane in the membrane and so
only partially have been able to push my stubborn ass to task.
One of the reasons I planned on this endeavor in the first
fucking place was a lesson learned in a hard fashion via pirates in Belize. The
lesson learned was not to hold much value in stuff, cause said pirates might
make a sacred geometric shape on the floor with your prized crystals and then
smash them accidently whilst hoola hooping. So when I came back here for sake
of being a grown up with responsibilities, I thought I would find it easier to
let go of what I once prized, I was wrong.
I want to be rid of all of it, so I guess it be time to man
up and stop being a pussy.
Though I’m not too mired in the Ick to lack gratefulness for my
ability to get my ass up, do the fucking dishes, wash my hair, and write this
less than ‘my best’ blog entry. Today is Grateful Thursday and therefore, nothing for it.
Because I lack creative mojo and chain smoking seems a
worthy use of my time today, I will make use of the handy bullet list.
I am grateful…
For my daughter. She
tops all lists, all of the time.
For not being a crack
whore, or worse. Going over some of the stories from my book, it was touch and
go there for a bit.
That I have the money
for my return ticket to Belize! This would be #2 but my near addiction stories
are still afresh in my brain.
For the security that I often times take for granted.
For my friends. Old
ones, new ones, and soon to be ones.
Finally…that I know
how to cleanse me of the Ick that I find my toe dipped into presently.
P.S. Yes, I am aware I forgot the bullets, however I did bold it all.
So why is it that women are sluts and men are studs when it
comes to an active sex life that does not include monogamy? Puritanical
bullshit, that’s why! I mean my shoved way back in a corner puritan comes out
here and there. As example: I am not an exhibitionist and will turn from sexual
adventuress to dowdy prude in a hot fucking second if it even suggested.
With all this clatter about “slut shaming” I've taken a look back at the sexcapades of my twenties and don't recall really being slut
shamed, feeling ashamed or having any remorse for what I did. OK, there was mortification on
the highest level, but shame I suppose is not my thing because I’m far more embarrassed that I fucked a skinhead in a Native American graveyard than I’m
ashamed of doing so. Actually, I can tell that story laughing my ass off as it's over the top
fucking ridiculous and honestly, not to believed other than the fact that you
know, it really did happen.
I just feel already tired at the term “slut shaming”, though without
dismissing the reality of harm it causes. But evidently the garish over sexed 80’s
has been sanitized and forgotten in this 21st Century. And I think here lies the truth in why I feel
no shame…none of us fucking did! It was like the free love of the 60’s only
with white jeans, Nikes, big hair, and really dark eye shadow. Oh and that’s not
just the girls.
The scare of HIV and other sexually transmitted disease may
be in part the cause of all this shaming of the girls who fuck for which it seems boys are never
held accountable for. Its guilt is always pinned on the girls as to transmission, and never the boys responsibility. It’s not
their problem till they find their prick hot with puss and then of course
again, it’s the sluts fault, never theirs. No matter how much bullshit that is, slut or not, protect your private bits girls!
Even if YOU have to carry condoms in your purse when that boy may think
himself so sexy he can get away with “forgetting”. By and by….this was a common occurrence in
Belize. Men there do not believe they have to wear a condom and I believe this might be why so
many young girls are pregnant and some, have HIV.
So let’s touch on Belize for a moment. In my beloved Belize you
are slut in the male gossip mill but wanted for their beds in secret. There I named myself The
White Whore of San Ignacio, I thought it funny in that dark way I do even though it wasn't true at all. But I dared to be a
single white female living alone and hanging with the Rastas. It didn't matter that
I never slept with them, though not from a lack of effort on their part, it mattered that I partied with them and women do not hang out with men who they are not fucking. I did however get rather drunk with them on several occasions, but they were nothing but fucking gentlemen with me and always made sure I made it
home, even that one time I couldn't walk…that much at all.
Ironically the townsmen with prying eyes and womanly gossiping ways, never
knew who I actually was sleeping with. He and I were rather private about it, but
still, a slut I had been deemed and I never did help my cause as I hung out with
mostly men. When a group of very young backpacker/pirates came into my world, and we drank much “pirate juice” at a centrally located bar, the stories became
even wilder!
So am I a slut for sexcapading with more than one sexual partner in
Belize?
My answer: I’m a sexually active middle aged woman loving every moment of my sexual awakening. It is I who chooses who I fuck without too much embarrassing compromises. Well unless said compromising position was agreed upon and well some shit was just out of my hands. Heh.
You know I arrived in Belize pretty broken physically with my weight very high, my memory fresh of gory oral infections and still healing from abdominal surgery. So slut shaming aside, I needed that sexual healing and Fuck Off to any who wish me to feel ashamed for that.
It goes back at least ten years now,
the name was not created because it's rather fetching, it was something I started calling myself when giving tarot readings and realizing that I had reinvented myself several times over via spiritual breakdown,
to build back the fuck up again. Wash, Rinse, Repeat…over and over if fucking necessary, this was often advice given to clients. I find that I have a deep understanding of the smalls deaths we endure in life.
I realized we die to the old so that we can rise as to be bad ass phoenix's and that I was no longer the Michelle of my twenties who leapt
at every compulsion offered…just to find out what would happen. More so than
the sick and twisted, what I adored the most was danger. Dangerous deeds like being ordered to
shoot at the Circle K cashier if he runs after Adam who was there for cigs and
beer. We of course had no money, so obviously we had no choice other than to
steal because a night without smokes and beer, would have been a hardship indeed.
I still possess that compulsion to see what will happen. This compulsion led me to having sex on a Belizean island with a Rasta Man just last
year, though this doesn't mean I would ever knock off a convenience store in this age of Michelle. I mean a girl has to set fucking boundaries at some point in her journey.
So yes, there is the natural growth most us
humans allow, but there were acts of the nastier ilk in my youth that left me ill to my core and nothing
but a deep cleanse would do. Simply put, some endeavors need more energetic soap than others, but I know transformation from the worst of us is more than possible, it just takes a 'no holding back' look at yourself. One must allow for the flinching, for the tears, and the rage that is likely to come when you realize the scope of pain you contain. But indeed cleansing is something I do well and often. Part of the death/cleanse rite is to accept your participation so that you can let it go or embrace it, depending on a plethora of details. If you come here seeking assistance, again, I have a rite for that.
In the end as TQOT, I die to ancient history and negative aspects so
that I can be free to continue this journey having learned enough to know not to rob a fucking Circle K store. I mean at the very least...
I have a winner for my first Facebook page contest for a reading! Oh yea,
I have a new FB page and really ought to have a button here so those from
around the globe reading my blog, can “like” it. Oh and I need a twitter button
as well, cause I have one of those too.
Fuck I am so very behind in this self-promotion so I can
make money doing what I used to do for free…fodder. But free fodder is fun, just ask my contest winner!
Well after her prize has been dispensed and I’m relatively sure she’s not going
to run away screaming.
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I do believe freaking out my
customer base is not good for bizniz. Oh I'm just playin, I am not scary at all. Really...
More soundtrack action for your blog reading pleasure!
At the midway point between the Harvest Moon and Autumn Equinox I find the words I had the other day a bit chocked. Again a lesson to write when inspired, don’t ever expect it to come back to it later believing the spark will await you, because that’s never gonna happen.
I can say with ease though that the Moon woke me up wicked early yesterday and said “do magic NOW” and so I did. It was not about me (for once) but did include interruptive dance smudging and questionable fire rites since I was indeed in a basement (just kiddin Terri). Heh
The energy of this moon was as it often is for me, beforehand. I mostly feel very little, with often feeling ill the day off. The week previously I had major epiphanies and moments of awe in nature, even if in a semi urban area. It was like the birds were talking to just me, showing just me messages of how to proceed, and what to cut away so I can be what I was intended.
So what am I intended? I am a Dark Messenger, Shamanista, and healer of dark ills that haunt. I illuminate the dark corners where you hide the icky stickies, unsavory thoughts, and the hatred that comes along with what you believe to be “wrong”, “bad”, and “dark” about you.
Scary, eh? Well there is a reason I have fought my destiny for so long. For a good deal of it, this lifetime has fucking sucked big ass coconuts! I have seen dogs try to eat coconuts in Belize, it is both hilarious and heartbreaking and a not so bad analogy for my life. Enough of that though! It’s time to let go and start healing others as I’m the most integrated I have ever been, with experience of the Underworld, and it’s time to get this shit started!
I want to help you heal the dark aspects of your broken darkness/shadows. I want to help you find your way to integration of your dual aspects through healing your relationships with nature and self as a way to wholeness. I will never claim this is the only way, but it’s a likely way to wholeness for those most banged up by this life.
And so yes, I can say without doubt, I have a rite for that!
Please enjoy Zoe Keating as you read about my Autumn
beginnings. Even though it will not take you 8 minutes to read, it is worth a listen for your own seasonal enjoyment.
On this blustery and cooled off morning the heat kicked on
for the first time in quite a while and the heated floor in the bathroom was switched on. Layers are being layered
with leggings, socks and scarves being amassed rather than cami’s, skirts and
flip flops being donned to stave off the heat.
Yesterday was a warm-ish day filled with thunder, lightning, then pounding rain. Still I managed to get a smoke in whilst sitting in the
side yard, with coffee in hand I watched a gang of blue jays yap about and
make trouble for the chickadees and even a lovely peregrine flew above my
head. With storm clouds advancing and mist forming, it hits me, I
need to let go of the idea that this is a prison sentence and just be ok with
being in the US awaiting a decision out of my hands, so I may make my own.
The moment I let myself go into this, all sorts of Autumn
thoughts filled my head deciding I needed to make pumpkin bread,
buy thick warm tights, and long sleeved shirts. Just fucking face the fact that this is where
you're going to be till November girl, so why not let go and ENJOY it? I mean
it’s not like this isn’t my favorite season other than Spring…the other season
of equilibrium.
Balance is being set and as a sign Mother Nature sent me a
cute pair of raccoons last night as I was yet again smoking in the side yard.
One stood up with paws out for balance sniffing the air as my cigarette smoke wafted
towards him. They came very close but realized I was indeed a human retreating back to eating the moss off our concrete wall. Being a magical thinker, I of course saw this as a sign. A sign that I need to learn how to wear masks as I
transform and perhaps stop sharing every shard of pain or even happiness with
everyone. Keep some discoveries close to my heart in rites of secrecy to gain in
potency, sharing only with those closest or just with me, myself, and the ones
from the/my other side of things.
Soon the smell of fallen leaves in various stages of decay
will fill the air with a magic that can only be found here in the cool North. I
cannot wait to get back to the perpetual butterfly house that is Belize, but
for now I will allow the season of late harvest bring me this particular dark
joy.
I did not know till I looked up crisis line numbers for this
post that this is National Suicide Prevention Week. We are actually in its
final days and so though late to the party, I have something to say on the
subject of wanting to end yourself.
I've been working on an article with tips and the what not
on how to survive a deep dark depression, knowing the subject intimately, I
thought I would share how I manage this feat over and over again.
Today I have only one thing to say...KEEP BREATHING! Call for
help when you feel you can't and accept the help given as sometimes we fight an inner battle with life and death leading to fighting the very help we asked for. Ok, that’s actually three things…but try to imagine
someone taking your life, would you fight for it? If so, there is a part of you
that wishes to live no matter what. I know that sometimes it’s more than we
think we can bear…but we do! Some of us cycle this over and over again and live
despite how easy it would be to take all the drugs the psychologist has so conveniently prescribed us.
I also recommend finding a tether. Mine is my daughter. I go
through a mental list of people who likely would be impacted by my death and
how they would react and proceed with their lives. My daughter is the one being
I know who would be damaged by my leaving. It is my responsibility to live for
her, I made a deal with the Universe to give birth to her and you just don’t go
and break a bond like that. So find your bond and believe me, most everyone has
one and that bond may not be of the human variety. It could be a cause, a pet,
a message meant to be given by you and only you. It can be ANYTHING. Hell it
could be a tree in the forest you love, so tether you to it and when you come
to your precipice, tug on it and know this is why you stay.
I will not lay claim to know this will work for everyone,
I am sure there are people it won’t. When
you’re depressed it’s fucking hard to see opportunity, you only see what’s
wrong, and that perhaps it’s just fucking time to say goodbye. And if this is the
case for you, finding a reason to live is harder, but if you have spun down
into this place and came out the other side before, it means you know how to
survive, that your will to live is stronger than your will to die. Managing this
makes you one strong mother fucker! You stared death in the face and
said ” nay…I have shit to do, some other time perhaps.”
So just keep breathing and share your tales of survival with
others. The more people talk about suicide the less taboo it becomes. The more
we talk openly about it, the less alone we all will feel. I have
no idea how many die because they share their feelings to friends and family and were met
with discomfort and no words of support because they didn't know what to say.
The crisis line can be a tether in those moments.
If it is only for that moment when you need someone to listen, they are there
for you, so please make the call.
I used to do this as a list and I think I will get to that
next time. For this first one though, I think I want to keep it big picture and
simple.
I am grateful that I NEVER GIVE UP!
Never giving up means I get to discover magic in places no
one would dare look. I am not saying this is the way one ought to live, I am
saying that it is mine, and I am grateful that though it be terrifying, I never
let go of my lovely tether and decide…no more.
This first Grateful Thursday post is brought to you by a meeting of endarkened
minds, the introduction to a forever-friend I never knew I had, and that I have
so much more to learn and share. Sharing is caring and I intend on caring a
whole fucking lot, all over the fucking place.
Get ready world, I am coming back…
Photo: my own from Belize during the dry/fire season.
This is just fucking silly. Happiness is not in the wings
waiting for you to feel nothing so it can fill in. We feel a great many things both nice and not so nice. These feelings are not killing our happiness, we
simply are NOT happy in the moment.
We find our way to happiness, it is not a given. Most of the
time, for most of us, this takes concerted effort. To me memes like
this one, though intended to be uplifting, can be the polar opposite for those
of us still struggling with balance in our enlightenment. There are also the ones just
touching a toe in the pool, still feeling afraid and angry, happen upon
a sweet tidbit like this and think "fuck! I just killed an
angel!" See to some in the fragile state (the gooey cocoon stage) of enlightenment, a message like this can seem fatalistic as one braves their inner dark terrain finding feelings to match.
We need more voices voicing realities rather than ridiculous ideologies
that no one can live up to. And why oh why do more not see that this
is just a side way step to the right away from Christianity. Stick an eagle feather in your cap and call yourself a
white-lighter.
Which by and by…is okee dokee by me, just please refrain
from wrinkling your nose in distaste at the knowledge that some of us are in
the muck and glory of this gorgeous planet called Earth and finding our way through the dark... naturally.
The mind is the birthplace of the imagination, it is here where
our feelings are processed making truth that it’s the ones that “act” upon the imaginable,
that change the world. Waltz intent right into the world of form and you are
making shit BE.
If it were that simple for everyone, humankind on a whole
would know there are no differences between us as a race AND all that we survey.
In turn the human race would come to the natural conclusion that we all are indeed….deity.
There can be no doubt at all, that I am mad as a hatter at
present. I’m way deep in it and all I can do is silently scream into the quiet
room as I blast music into my brain via ear buds. Winter is fast approaching and
I feel that if I am still here when He starts his frosty march…I will just lay
down and let him take me into the slumberlands.
I need movement. I am statue-ing into what I'm sure will
not be a pretty forever face. My pain will be for all to see and not just the
bits I allow access to. As it is my body swells with raging discontent observable to any watching the downward spiral I presently ride since my return to the states.
I need an intervention, but since I make it impossible to
dominate me long enough for that sort of thing to be utilized, I shall do so
for myself by sending me on retreat. I go to write and to be alone and to chisel
off the icy marble attempting to stiffen me into the above mentioned, forever face.
Waiting is not my strong suit. Patience is not in my vernacular.
Even with a knowing that I would indeed wait with no patience for it at all, I
still fell into a puddle in the basement, in my bed, with my iPod firmly linked
to my brain. It’s my new coping tool…do nothing but listen to music and figure out
the mysteries of the Universe. One day I just know this will be of consequence,
for now it feels like limbo on steroids.
Oh and have I figured some big shit out! But it’s as per the
usual, hard to put into words readable by other, you know, humans. But I will
tell Jana all about it and she will figure out the little tidbits that sound
insane to me and make a sense of it. I do so love her for that. I need a
decoder ring sometimes and she can be that for me and for this gift I want to
kidnap her and take her with me…plots have plotted.
The one thing that is clear and easy to communicate is the
release of more control that I insist on attempting even when I know there is
nothing for it. I watched me fall into the puddle from an outside place and
wondered why I was bothering. It seemed out of date and rather redundant. Still
I did it for I had no other avenue at the moment to flow my inertia upon. I
mean what do you do with suspension other than get comfy cause its fucking
happening.
So this time I paid painful attention to every infliction
and regret I set upon myself. I have it all stored up looking to never go into
repeat mode again. I know I can alter how I react to these moments. I mean I
did! Never did I go into the suicidal ideology moment, well not authentically.
I heard the words and they fell flat. It might actually now be boring to want to
die knowing I will never fucking actually do it. I live because I fucking
cannot allow me to die. That is a FACT, so why fight it. See…I am letting go.
