Can you hear me? Am I talking to a wall here. This is the ego, small me trying to get its way. The body is aching so something must be wrong. Sarcasm – the slightly less aggressive cousin of anger. But there really isn’t any difference.
It’s been a while since my last holy rant. I’ve been feeling thoroughly abandoned by Mr/Miss/Ms/Dr God. I haven’t just felt separate from god but also not listened to. I have been given multitude of opportunities to marinade in my top three terrors – loneliness, poverty and freedom (the last two are really the same. Ah yes, I was bunking with a friend for a while. Not too long, but enough to get that uneasy feeling. She was great of course but the nagging thoughts about not being looked after was with me. When I say not being looked after, I mean the universe not giving the means to look after myself. My independence was questioned here. What is my independence anyway, what does it look like? If I follow the path here…hmmmm… Yes, being dependent means you have to ask or accept something from another. And that in my mind ties me to that person. I don’t see that my gratitude is enough. I fear that the person will see me as a spongy leech-type. And what that does mean? I’m not liked. And then that in turn that I’m not loved (as I see that love has to come from outside). So in the end of this road is lack of self-love. Well that’s just a mental exercise. I need some guidance on how to really do this shit.
Meditating on my personal finance balance sheet. Ouch – all of the above mentioned crap is staring at me bluntly. It’s down right challenging me, the beast. It says, you are poor now but also in the forseeable future. It also smacks me in the face with the month of December. I maybe alone for Christmas!!! This feels like it’s partially by choice and partially involuntary. Oh holy trust! I have no trust in you Universe. I admit it! I look at the world thru this bodily pain and I have lost it.
So god (said with a slightly sarccy tone of voice), whatcha gonna do with me now? Give me some guidance here please. I’ve been repeating your class so many times and it looks like I don’t get it. I’m the student from the back row. The one who throws her books to the floor in a moment of frustration, only to reveal pages full of defaced holy men. I promise I will listen to you now. Just give me the quick way okay?
Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Breakdown! It’s happening here right now. I am sick at home and there is no way of distracting myself from the disconnection of my own heart. There is no hope. That’s good, right? No illusions? Is this a state of honesty?
What do we normally do when we feel like shit? My previous favourites have been drinking, drugs, getting someone to say how much they love me, having sex with someone who I only just met. Most of these don’t really work so much for me anymore. The first glass of wine maybe, but after that it’s just a feeling of numbness and need for isolation. And to overcome that, more booze of course until she breaks. A line of coke does virtually nothing to elate me nowadays. Relationships – that’s a funny one. I’m in the one that is full of dangled webs to exes and lovers. Not from my side, mind you. So that’s not really giving the old distraction feel goods. I’m not getting a kick out of attention anymore, so getting some looks or a little flirt moves me not. Sex and masturbation seem to be pretty much off the table at the moment as well. Not sure where that energy is hiding. In fact, give that one back please!
Of course, I have read bookshelves worth of spiritual material. Love is what I’m after but I’m looking for it from without. Weirdly though, after ten years of listening to the teacher telling me to stop grasping, here I am doing exactly that. Or maybe that singing career would finally make me a happy person?!! Only joking.
So what’s she going to do? Keep moving, keep seeking? I’ve literally been stopped from doing anything. I’m sick as a dog and can only lay on my bed and type this. There is a difficult full moon ahead of us, say some astrologers. But I don’t even know if the difficult moon ever left to be able to make a come back. There’s something I’m carrying. It weighs heavier and heavier. I can see it on you too. You carry your load. Some of us know that it’s not compulsory to keep lugging all of this and that you can put your baggage down at any point. But rare are those who actually do it.
I’m full of questions but see no answers. I’ve lost the sigh of the cliff I want to jump off. I was so ready before and now I’ve gone to purgatory. Stuck, immobile, bitter at god! Why did you leave me behind? I was the one who behaved so well. Blessed are the meek! Take me, take me, take me!
I’m ready. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
So maybe you are like me and started their spiritual path with the virtuous sounding practice of acceptance and letting it go. But sometimes letting it go gets so fucking distorted. Practicing gratitude isn’t much good if one of the schizophrenic voices in your head is just lying to the others. If what’s boiling in the depth of your belly is volcanic, mother fucking anger, it’s no use trying to frantically mantra it away. ‘Cause it ain’t going nowhere!
So fuck you gratitude! Fuck you acceptance! Fuck you letting it go! Fuck you spirituality! And fuck you god! You’ve done nothing for me. I expected everything to change and you gave nothing. You remain silent and distant like fridge with a lock on it! How the hell do you expect me to be grateful when I’ve gotten nothing I want? I’m still a emotional hot mess! I’m poor as hell and working like a dog just make ends meet! I can’t do anything to enjoy myself! I’m tired as a mother of fresh born octuplets! How??? You tell me!
I’ve read thousand kilometers of spiritual literature. I’ve meditated my ass off! I’ve paid too much money to spiritual healers, and here I am ranting on some god forsaken blog how didn’t get what I wanted! I’m like a five year old screaming over a dropped ice cream cone. Gimme, gimme, gimme!!!
You remain silent. I did my course in magic. Where is it now? I tried to manifest money, I tried to manifest silly things. Nothing happened. Am I not good enough? Why do you exclude me? I want to come and play too. But here I am, alone in my bunker. Oh sorry, was I supposed to be grateful for my bunker? Was I supposed to be grateful for this shitty little life? I’m small and nobody can hear me. I want to sing but I’m scared as hell. Better to keep my head down. Better not too want anything so that I can’t get disappointed, eh?
So what now? Your move.
I keep meeting a weepy little creature on a regular basis. She is a fragile flower scared of the big boys. The big boys are mean and make fun of her in those corners of the play ground where the parents’ eyes are blind. That place where the scary kids try cigarettes and kissing. She wants to run for mama, but mama can’t see. Or maybe she is busy elsewhere doing the laundry or something.
My emotional reactions are grande. They come as waves or house sized tsunamis. They are the result of the sensitive one being scared of the harshness of the others. The sensitive one wants to hide in someone else’s armpit. She is calling for someone strong and supportive, but instead she keeps getting the cold or the weak. She feels that she will not be able to take any more. Even a hint of harshness and she wants to bury herself deep.
I behave like a drama queen. If you look at my life and you might say that my reactions are legit. Sure, I have some pretty weird stuff going on from the point of view of my 47 year old mother of one colleague Sarah. She would freak listening to the instability that I regularly hangout in. But hell, I must be attracting this somehow. How else would I be in constant mess. I want to scream at my boyfriend for having other lovers in his life. I want to tell him to crack open and stop being so distant and walled up. Aaaaaarrrggghh!!! I want you to save me but you are nowhere near doing that. You make me insane with the twisted answers you give me with the level of Mr Trump. My friends say, leave. My spiritual friends say, thank the universe for such an opportunity to let all your fears come up. But I want respite! I want to hold my hands up and give up. I want to feel good! I just want to feel good!!! I’m scared of feeling bad. I’m sacred of not having anyone to rely on to take bad feelings away. Or really it’s just the hope I’m clinging onto. Nobody has so far come and erased the shitty feelings.
Who will console the little creature? Is that my job too? Show me how and I’ll do it, I promise.
Weirdly it has taken about zillion iterations to realise how this ego is pretty much entirely constructed around feeling bad. I have learned from childhood that feeling bad is me. I start my mornings by feeling bad. I always did. I anticipate something horrible to happen from go. That’s the me that I have gotten to know. Now I need to show it love and say there-there – the big one will take it from here. Surrender! But the little voice is still shouting for someone to love her. Someone big to come and say, ‘you are enough’, ‘it’s all going to be okay’, ‘I’ve got you’. All of that stuff.
As ever, I am here to set the intention of seeing all of this without filters and in truth. Thank you, I’m sorry, I love you!
What if you can see all of me? You will see all of that I want to desperately to forget. But I can’t. It’s there just waiting to be looked at. It weakens me and makes my face red when I receive attention from people I don’t know well enough to predict. Unpredictable people scare me. I can’t know if they will humiliate or ridicule me. This is true. I am so deeply ashamed of myself. I have even received a mirror person in my life, with almost the same amount of shame attached to them, to really highlight this. Massive ‘look here!’ sign in a form of a colleague.
What has my shame made of? There is so much subconscious, I can’t even tell what it is. Sure there is time when my mum called me in from playing outdoors when I was six. I had soiled my underpants earlier that day and tried to hide them in the laundry basket only for mum to see and my sister to ridicule me of. But sometimes six year olds shit their pants, right? But I was so, so very ashamed with me. I still keep it with me. There is also that time when I was four and my dad told me that I smelled like pee when he lifted me up on his shoulders. But sometimes four year olds pee their pants, right? Why not forgive myself for being a child and not knowing how to do everything. After this I suffered from urinary infections for many years. i was carried around from doctor to doctor to sort out my peeing problem. After that subsided, I got the crown jewel of shame diseases – psoriasis. It screams, look at me!!!
I’m a classic dad issues woman. Daddyyyy didn’t pay attentiooooon…. and so on. He was not much interested and if he was it was pretty negative. And the other thing he liked to do with me was to take silly photographs of me pulling faces. So as I was a young budding woman, I got my attention using my body. I was pretty good looking young lady, so it wans’t particularly difficult to get boys into bed. In fact I had a lot of them on one year only. I got drunk on weekend after weekend and had sex. The boys treated me like a cheap slut and I couldn’t understand why. My group of friends started to become sparse. I had gone from the quiet sporty college girl with good grades into a slut whore, who couldn’t possibly be successful. I learned that my sexuality was disgusting. I cried to my mum how my friends have started to reject me and she responded by stop sleeping with so many guys. My sexuality had become the most shameful thing about me. I went into college day by day hiding myself more and more. And to zero my head, I would get drunk and sleep with more guys. Also my sister was doing exactly the same. But she had better friends who didn’t dump her because of that. I felt that nobody in the world wanted me around them. And seriously, I don’t think anyone did. There was nobody around.
I have become so single minded about my focus on spiritual awakening that my thought uttered out loud to someone who isn’t going through the same feel full of weirdness. I want to be speaking my truth and that only. But I am worried about some imaginary consequences that isn’t really even clear to me. I guess it’s being laughed at. Or when I’m joking, not being laughed with. I worry about the silence I create around me and how uncomfortable it makes people feel. That’s why I generate bullshit just to keep the noise going. Just so that we don’t see the pain we are really in. And at the same time I’m raving on about honesty and truth. Holy contradiction Batman! Want more daddy issues…here they come. I wasn’t allowed to speak to my dad when I was a kid. . Unless I was being entertaining him somehow. Ok. That’s it. Doesn’t sound too traumatic, now does it. But still I am here thinking that what I say to someone can be only valuable if I’m entertaining or giving some wisdom nuggets. Otherwise I feel like a kid in the adults world wondering what the hell are they all on about.
So holy, beloved shame. Show yourself in your entirety and I promise I will listen to you and you can be finally in peace. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
What you resist persists. I have heard this so many times and rephrased in so many ways. As I go thru layers and layers of sludge, I find more and more things that I’m resisting. You know that experiment, where a monkey is given a box with a hole and a banana in it. The monkey puts her hand in the box and grabs the banana. But the shape of the whole is so that the she can’t take her hand out when it’s grabbing the treat. But the monkey wantw the banana so bad it won’t let go and therefore has her hand stuck and no banana. That!
There’s a permanent clentch in my stomach, just above the solar plexus. Same on my throat. I’ve had so many talks and down right arguements with it. It says ‘listen woman, the piano will drop on your head at any point so we better be ready’. According to it, it can come pretty much anytime. This of course is learned so amazingly it can’t be a permanent part of anything. In my case it’s the dear old family environment. Psychologists wet dream (which is probably the reason I went to study psychology, to try and understand what the hell was going on there). But that all has been analysed to death and a lot forgiven, we need to come from a different angle.
So all I can do is practice is forgiveness/love, which is ultimately breathing. I’m dropping into the clench and feeling every little bit of it. I frequently forget but I also forgive myself. Pain, please tell me what you have to say. I’m listening.
Relationships are the best catalysts and mirrors for this shadow shit. It brings all sorts of crap to the surface that you never thought you were harbouring. I used to just think that there’s something deeply flawed in me for not staying in a relationship for very long. Now I see that I outgrow them very fast.
So what’s going on in the current one? First of all, it’s an open relationship. I date other people too when I have time or will. He from the beginning didn’t the profile of someone I could imagine being with. There’s been an endless amount of pain as I’ve twistex and turned in it’s details. He has been deeply involved with his ex-girlfriends and boyfriends all through the six months of this relationship. Almost all people in his life are based on a sexual or romantic connection. I have come to accept that more and moved onto dispersing my sexual energy to multiple people. But for the first months it brought up nothing but jealousy. ‘How could he, I’m so much hotter than him or any of the people he flirts with’. Oh yes, there’s that one who values herself and others based on their looks. More on this…
So after numerous deaths and rebirths of this relationship we hage both transformed swiftly. He is showing me his vulnerability and I love that. He is not hiding under detachment so much and that makes the exchange of energy so much free. Our sexual connection has always been amazing as we have released so much already on that front. But why do I keep coming up with new reasons why he is not the one. Now it’s the way we are unmatched with looks. The thought of ‘I can do better’ lingers despite of my genuine love to him. We have a lot of fun too. We dance!
So now I’m asking it to become clear, is this just my fear of nit being special enough. Surely a hot boyfriend makes you look like you’ve got something special about you. Or is it that we are not supposed to be. Please let me see the truth though this. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
The feeling of being out of the flow, disconnected and can’t find the drive to look for anything in the external world to distract yourself from this feeling. It’s very common with me. I’m so scared of being stuck in the same situation and in the same emotions over and over again. But I have also lost the drive to look for the external fix. Well almost, I still try and combat it with going out for drinks and having flirtations. Often I outright focus solely on sex because it gives me the exciting feeling that I miss so. The expectation of a sexual encounter titillates me to the core. And I can say that I would not want to let go of that. I love sex and my sexual energy.
So dropping into deeply in this boredom, what do I see or find? I experience this feeling every day. It feels like energy is getting rushed up from the base but it gets stuck in various places. It’s like hosepipe being obstructed while water is still on. What is this block made of? It is the feeling that I have no power to change my experience here. There’s that given up frustrated feeling. It says that you will never have what you want so why bother,
So feeling stuck and thinking that there is nothing I can do about it. Total lack of control. And nobody hearing it, complaints department is closed….
I am asking to see the truth through these feelings and thoughts. I wish to shine the light on all of this and see what’s what. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
The depth of the fear and feeling of being unloved. The ocean of people who are not including me. The wound is deep and only healed from the surface in a way that any little prick can make it bleed. Oh how it manifests in so many ways.
I had my first date with a really hot guy planned. This would’ve been the first time we met but also, he is the best looking man I have ever been involved with. I have almost always had relationships with people who are not as attractive as me. Sure, attractiveness is hugely subjective, but I’m talking from my point of view. It’s very clear to me why this is. I feel that when I am the more beautiful partner, I will not be left as easily and have more power. Yes, that’s it. I want to be loved but also have power. I want to be sure that the other one will come back to me. And my recipe for that has always been choosing partners who are less attractive than me.
When I’m in the presence of a very attractive man, I make myself incredibly small. I become a non person who wants to disappear inside the earth. I don’t think I am in anyway on their level. I also believe that an attractive man will cheat and lie to me. They will leave me in a heart beat. So what makes me so leavable? I think I am too dark, too contemplative and not much fun at all. I have recently reawakened my sexuality and this is a power that I do not quite know how to ride yet. I will write a whole host of posts on sexuality at a later date.
So unloved, alone. Have to grasp into anything I can get. If my partner shows love or romantic interest to someone else, I get so jealous. However, I let myself have multiple infatuations. Everyone love me because I don’t love me!
Please can I have the light cast on these fears fully and let go. Thank you, thank you, thank you.