Today, when I publish this, was a day full of sleep and dreams. In one, I was late for a meet-up that was supposed to happen at 5pm IRL, but in my dream I woke up at 7pm and was late to meet my friend. Thankfully, because of that…I ended up waking/getting up out of bed and arriving at the meeting-point right on time. These anxiety-filled dreams feel directly linked to the precarity of my current living situation. I’m living a different sort of life and it’s not for the faint of heart. Because of this non-mainstream choice, I think it’s natural to have anxiety and fear come up. This life is a matter of great faith and hope, that everything will be okay.
I am definitely remembering my dreams more vividly, and I am dreaming more than I used to compared to when I was overworked. My dreams are bizarre, but I haven’t been disciplined enough to meditate regularly and write about them as soon as I wake.
I’ve also resurrected this Swedish deck, called the Outgrow Yourself Tarot and Oracle deck, which was originally in Swedish. It’s been lovely to spend the afternoon with it and studying it.
I have now done a handful of readings for friends in the last weeks and I marvel how natural it has all come about.
There is a demand for intimate self-knowledge and deep knowing.
We are surrounded by dire fires and it’s not too late to thirst and ask for water.
We don’t just need cups, we need buckets.
We need vessels for all these feelings we suppress and repress.
We need love, and more love still.
I am grateful to be in a place where I am so at ease talking about the feminine and the yin. Unapologetically feeling and female. Silent in my determination, to love.
I look over my shoulder and I see old and younger versions of me, so full of joy for the woman I’ve become.
My storage room haunts me. It contains my skeletons, metaphorically speaking. If my life were to be cut short and my home exposed to my family and friends, they will learn for themselves that I was not that okay. They would see that I have way too many suitcases for a household of one and that I also have way too many clothes. At least, that’s how I fear they would judge me, however, mindfulness reminds me that these thoughts are merely thoughts and therefore an add-on to my suffering.
Besides, it is more likely they would be in their feelings and more focused on my death, than whatever post-humous life statement I leave behind.
This is my motivation to get my life in order. The prospect of sudden death and my beloved friends and family having to deal with what I leave behind. I plan to lessen and remove things from the storage, a few times a week—let’s say three—but so far since quitting one of my part-time jobs at the end of January, I have only managed to do two legitimate excavations of mostly clothes, since there is a thrift store conveniently located across the street from me.
I feel no guilt about this. I am just stating facts. I promised myself to rest all of February and to only really “plan” and make bigger moves in March.
Friends have complimented my style, but many don’t realize I tend to love to repeat outfits. When I went away for my silent meditation retreat, I brought enough underwear but only 3 outfits for the ten-days. That time was the most “myself” and liberated I have ever felt.
February came close to that feeling. I slept so much last month and feel so clear-minded. It is quite absurd and ridiculous that rest is an exception and not the norm.
Her memoir was much more measured than you would expect from a Sagittarius woman. She was so observant those first five years with Picasso, and in a way, it felt like she was locked up in her body, moving and responding to the different situations that she was thrown into—until it dawned on her—2 children later, that she was losing herself, and could no longer live in the shadows of someone.
I do remember being 20-something and ‘letting’ things happen to you, feeling somewhat less in control of your destiny. She was 21 when she met Picasso, who was 61. Reading her memoir gave me some empathy for an ex of mine, who had muttered under his breath, after a couple of years of a long-distance courtship that he had felt like my shadow.
Though, I was no Picasso. I was no tyrannical egotistical painter, who would throw tantrums, when I think of him “fading” within my confidence and poise, I can still understand what he might have meant, a little better. He was 10 years older than me, but I can see why it feels like I have lived more lives than he has.
What they should be teaching us in schools, is the resiliency and confidence that most people try to find in others first. We think that we will get stronger and better, in a duo or couple. Our culture trains us to look outward for it, but a lot of it is self-knowledge…and then the true test of being human, is being able to be part of a community, to be in communion with others—not just in romantic relationships.
Here’s my release for the evening. A word appetizer. A salad before the main course. The last time I was in this space, I spoke of love vampire energies. I don’t need to, but in case any person with conscious awareness is reading this, I have decided to mindfully explain myself.
Every word or action we choose is powerful enough to change or affect other souls and energies. I take responsibility.
There was something about a certain situation that irked me. I was irked because I allowed myself to feel “more” than the situation required. Upon further meditation, I refuse to react so irrationally either. I have vomited the previous entry, and I return with more peace in my heart.
I was referring to certain people as vampires, because they move and act as such. As if they are not human, as if they are not mortal and fallible. They act as if the laws of the universe do not apply to them. They travel and move about in this world, as if they can pick and choose when to appear and disappear from people’s lives, and everyone else on the receiving end, simply must “accept” or risk losing them completely. This is not love. I shall not even attach the word to what I had previously called them.
Alas! We are all mortals. Everything is impermanent and as such, no matter how you choose to live your life—there will be consequences.
Every cause has an effect and vice versa. Everything is connected. And hurtful action is hurtful. Intention is one thing, but if you care for someone, no matter what you intended, can you soften enough to repair? To take steps toward into love?
What the heckin’ heck. I was just thinking to myself that the last time my body felt this way, S was hanging around my energy field. And by the way, it was not a good feeling. It’s lethargic. Weighed down. Heavy. Like something had taken a hold of my body. I was just letting a video on YouTube play (and hints of this person came into my head) and then I fell asleep and napped. When I woke up, I saw a letter on my doorstep from S. It looks thick, like it’s at least 7 A4 pages long. My intuition tells me not to open it and to cut it outside.
No. No mister. I grew in my peace. I tilled my body for this peace. I cultivated and watered my peace. I watched all the flowers and fauna in my garden grow. I let the weeds grow wild. They are plenty. But my garden is peaceful and loving and there is no space for you to be in it.
I forgive myself for letting you in. I forgive myself for being lonely and needy and hungry for someone to care about me. I forgive myself for allowing you to enter my sacred space and for even giving you my address. I accept what I have done and forgive myself. I release you. I let you go. And no, you remain uninvited.
Happy 420am as I write this. I’m sitting crossed legged on the floor with the laptop propped on the edge of my bed. An AI-generated Spotify playlist is playing in the background while I type. On Instagram, I was served an ad with a catchy tune by an American indie band that wrote some songs in Spanish and I got hooked. The playlist was generated from that track.
I’m awake because I slept through the first of February. No regrets, except I’m wondering, what time I should actually nap later or should I just stay awake until early evening tomorrow?
I announced this sabbatical very privately within my work network, but not all my friends know about it yet. I still have access to my work email and can see the different colleagues and clients responding to my goodbye. I had forgotten to cc my personal/work email.
This feeling of “emptiness” that I don’t have to think about a company’s goals as I putter and idle in my house, feels extra luxurious. I still have my other part-time work, but the lightness is incredible. Miraculous.
I look back on the month and so much happened. I haven’t wrapped my head around the happenings of the year, either. I’m poring over my journals and various notebooks. How do the days pass so effortlessly and fleeting ? In August last year, our local indie theatre closed and now, it’s February and they’re opening again. They chose to hit reset, which is what it feels like I’m doing. I intended it to be a mental break, but it’s only my second day and I actually feel the “reset”. A little before my card pull, I started to “feel” and “vibe” certain things. Goosebumps as I went about my day and noticed things.
I feel the alignment and clarity, again.
It’s crazy how we all need to pause, take a step back, in order to feel this present and well in our bodies. Most of us feel shackled and chained like we aren’t allowed to catch our breath or have a moment to ourselves. I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to be.
What if, we are not meant to focus on the pain or the suffering, but the possibility? The vastness. What if, the headset is meant to be small? What if the fleetingness of the flashing lights are part of the distraction? That diseases were not punishment but signals of wrong turns taken? Somewhere along the way, we kept disconnecting. We kept disassembling. We pulled apart from the ebb and flow. The cycles. The breath. The quiet. The darkness.
Pulling cards feels natural again. It’s been a while, but today, I pulled for myself “Temperance” from my She Wolfe deck and the mantra from this card is “I make my scars into art”. As February approaches, I feel it. The lightness and the rightness of this direction. With all that’s happening (the other things I am preoccupied with), I also feel very strongly about taking it one day at a time. All of it. Reminders from The Universe. Echoes from the abyss. This is the right path, but that it’s okay to take my time. One step at a time.
Then, I did a reading for a dear friend and she felt goosebumps. That’s the best, when it’s not just me feeling the flow, but that they do too.
I’ve been remembering my dreams too. This one, involved a room, some kind of basement like space, where a group of people (musicians, mostly male) were hanging around and keeping to themselves. There were rows of seats, similar to pews. All of us were strangers to each other. Or maybe, it’s better to say that none of them looked like anyone I know in my waking life. Then there was an elevator in the corner of the room, that would go up and down bringing a person or two into the space for a performance. Everyone in this “room” seemed to have a day job. They made a thing about being there. “You didn’t know, that I had this?” one of the musicians said to me pointing to whatever weird musical instrument they had brought with them.
There was another one before this, but clearly my brain’s RAM is being used up by all the other work things at the moment. It’s coming, though. More time to dream.