Break It Yourself

A letter to my self:

Dear Stone,

Yesterday morning a small bird hit the window next to me. This is the first time it has happened here. It isn’t one of those windows birds are always flying into. I looked down and saw it breathing and was relieved, thinking it was just stunned. As I watched its breathing slow, I realized it was dying. I buried it amongst the trees behind my home with red cloth and sage. Such a beautiful bird.  So tragic.
Death is the great transition. Physical death takes us to a place that we cannot understand, for a purpose we cannot know. Metaphorical death is just a ball of suck.

I suppose it is what we must do; Keep chipping away at the song of mother culture, break the bonds of expectations, dig deep into ourselves to find out truth. Not an easy journey. I started this path a while back now and have to say that although I love how much more I understand about myself, I fucking hate the journey. Roller coasters are a much better idea than the epic tides of emotions that rape me. I should have just gone to Six Flags and bought some ignorance.

Sweet Medicine tells the story of her childhood relationship with her grandfather. She was always curious about his work, as he practiced the old ways, and he would always chase her off. He would yell at her to get out. He would keep telling her she wanted to be somewhere else. But still she kept coming back to him. He was making sure that she genuinely wanted to be on this path. He knew the reality of what it was and the benefit of ignorance.

Okay, Stone, here is the important thing; If you had that experience with a mentor that you looked up to, you would keep going back. So either way you would end up where you are now. Before, you didn’t understand that you were connected to everything. Now you do. Now you also understand just how alone you really are. This is your path. These are your choices. Free will really is the biggest bitch of them all. So now it is just you, sitting next to your truth and a cup of tea. I’ve heard you say before that truth never was an engaging conversationalist. I guess you’ll find out now.

Break ties that don’t serve you. Break walls blocking you from knowing. Break into your heart space and steal a good long stare at what is there. Break your self. Defiantly take your strength in hand and use it to choose a metaphorical death. Don’t wait for it. I’m not even sure you should rebuild. Your raw truth exposed to the universe is the most connected and perfect you will ever be. Fuck the fear and work through it.

Stone, keep writing. It is the one outlet you have that allows for unfettered expression. It is your deepest connection to your truth.

I wish I could say that I love you.

Yours,

Stone

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Chugga Chugga Woo Wooooo

Question: Is the point of a spiritual life to live in a place of high vibration or of balance?

Well, here I sit at the end of the day. By all practical measures it was good, but I’m emotionally spinning away inside that tornado I’ve mentioned. I need a break from it so I’m going to write something else. I’ll start with a response to the question above that stemmed from a discussion I had with a friend.

Answer: Fuck if I know. Honestly, I don’t know that anyone can authoritatively answer that. And I suspect that anyone who claims that they can is selling something. I have some thoughts and feelings about it that I will share for the purpose of discussion. I’m not your leader. Don’t follow me. You can give me money, though.

So let’s talk about vibration. In this context I am talking about energetic vibration, not physical vibration. You are a physical being and you aren’t going to evolve into a light being. Sorry. One of the easiest ways to get the concept is with simple emotions. Joy is a very high vibration. Desperation and hopelessness are very low vibrations. Getting lots of hugs from people you love will raise your vibration. Driving in Seattle traffic will definitely lower it. Pretty easy, right?

It is possible to exist at different vibrations. And it isn’t like you are just joyful or sad all the time. Depression is an easy to understand example I think, because so many have experienced it. When people are depressed they inhabit that vibration. They seek similar vibrations to their own because it is oddly comforting. Depressed people don’t listen to John Denver, they listen to Damien Rice and Radiohead. They can cease to recognize or appreciate things that aren’t energetic matches to themselves. It is possible to live in a container of energy where you can (mostly) control what comes in and out and how you perceive it. The glass is half empty. Life in the bubble. Now imagine living a life where instead of being depressed bubble boy, you are ecstatic container girl. What if you felt high vibrations all the time? People in this state can actually alter the way they perceive everything around them so it seems better. Sounds pretty fucking great, right? Like living an orgasm and eating nothing but chocolate covered ice cream sandwiches. Sign me up!!! Some people even go so high they can see faeries and talk to spirits. Shamanic journeying is entering a state of ecstasy to communicate with those beyond our world. Shamans only journey for short periods of time, though.

There are real problems with living in an vibrational bubble, namely, it isn’t real. How do you relate to your family and friends? How do you shop for car insurance? What about trying to drive safely on a road, surrounded by other motorists, staying between the lines, while orgasming and eating your chocolate covered ice cream sandwiches? You might be blissed out, but you are also blissfully unaware and functioning on a level that doesn’t work in society. I think that’s great for spiritual adventures like vision quests and other ceremonies. It doesn’t work in day to day life. You will spend so much energy keeping yourself in that high place that you won’t have any left over for relationships.

Enlightenment is a solitary endeavor. A personal quest. What happens when you get there and have to take a shit but there isn’t toilet paper? No answer intended for this, I just wanted to write it.

Grounding is a hugely important spiritual topic. So many people don’t know what it means. They might come out of a big, spiritual ceremony altered to high heaven and unable to do basic math but say, “Oh man I feel so grounded!!” Wrong. You feel high. You just came out of a womb, rebirthed into new life and are a spiritual newborn taking in everything for the first time. You are high as a kite.

Grounding is when you come back to earth. When you sit under a tree and smell the air and feel the moisture in the soil. When you connect to all things in our physical existence. When you see the mountain lion staring at you and it scares the shit out of you. When you feel your cat purring on your lap and reach down to pet him. Grounding is connected awareness. It is knowingness. Grounding is our collective reality.

For where I am at in my life with my experiences, balance between high vibration and being grounded feels the most right. I feel all of my emotions, the full spectrum of vibration, and acknowledge them. I spend time with each and try not to prioritize one over the other. I listen to the wind skimming over the treetops.

Familiar with the tale of Icarus? His father makes two sets of wings for both of them to escape the chaos of their homeland. His father tells icarus not to fly too high or too low and to follow in his path. Giddy with the excitement and thrill of flight, Icarus ignores his father’ warning and flys higher and higher until the sun melts the wax on his wings and the feathers fall off and all he is left with are his bare, flapping arms. At the moment of this realization he falls to the sea and perishes.

I think this works better as a spiritual metaphor than the traditional one warning of setting your aspirations too high. Icarus didn’t make the wings, he was gifted them. He didn’t start with aspirations of glorious flight. With his gift he followed in a path set out for him and as he experienced new and greater sensations the higher he flew, he became oblivious to the reality of his physical world. Only when he sees and understands the disconnect does he fall into the sea.

A good life requires balance, I think. Go have your highs, allow for and honor your lows, and remember toilet paper.

How to Love an Empath

Ok. So, first. What is an Empath? This is for those of you that don’t see endless Facebook memes about it.  Not like they are accurate or informative anyways. Fuck Facebook. Fair warning: I have some serious snark tonight. I’ll try to reign it in for the good of humanity.
An Empath is someone that feels things that come from outside themselves. That’s the basic gist. Some are much more sensitive than others. Some only pick up things when they are with others, and some are unfortunate enough to pick up things anytime and anywhere and it could be unrelated to who and what they are currently around. There are different kinds of Empaths including emotional, intellectual, animal, crystal, plant, spiritual and mechanical. Yeah I’m not kidding. There are books on this. And it is some woo-woo shit, but I am one and I know it is real enough.

It should be noted that I’m not going to help anyone “diagnose” their partner as empathic. There are plenty of online resources to help with that. The journey of learning about one’s empathic nature is kind of a wild ride. There will be lots to process. I can honestly promise that it is worth the effort.

So you have fallen in love with an Enpath. Here are things you can expect:

  • Bullet points.
  • They will know things. Maybe they will tell you and maybe they won’t. But they will know. It’s totally up to you if you want to know what they do. There are pluses to either choice. I think it’s kinda cool when other Empaths share what they know with me. It is intimate and can be enlightening.
  • They are sensitive beings and most are very emotional. It is important that you not take their sensitivity personally. I know it is hard not to. I’ve watched a few of my partners really suffer with this. You need to worry about your stuff. Find a way to ask what they need and be supportive without sacrificing your emotions or sanity. Maybe they need space, maybe it is to be held and to feel stable energy. It is important to ask them. If they don’t know what to do and they know they are empathic, gently encourage them to find help. If you’re the cause of the problem, then you obviously have some shit to deal with. See how helpful I am ?
  • Be honest with them.
  • Be completely honest with them. Two bullet points here because of how important it is. Remember how I said they will know things? Well it is quite possible that they know you are full of the poo. Or maybe you are hiding feelings from your Empath? Bad idea. Here is the problem if you don’t see it; they will either know your feelings and what you tell them won’t match, which will make them not trust you, or they will know something is wrong and think that they are the problem. That is unfair. I know honesty hurts sometimes. If you are partnered with an Empath, honesty is the only beneficial way to communicate. Ever.
  • Untrained Empaths are a real challenge. I know as it took me years to figure a lot of this stuff out. I used to think I was fucked in the head and needed meds. Meds never worked, because it wasn’t a chemical problem. They might feel similar. Untrained Empaths don’t know how to distinguish what is theirs and what isn’t. They don’t know how to care for their own emotional self or how to protect themselves from negative shit. They will likely be running on intuition to care for themselves. It will keep them out of some trouble but not enough for them to thrive as people.
  • Negotiate with them for things that you need which are hard for them. It’s a relationship. They are going to have to compromise and not dominate the relationship with their needs. I look at this as basic introvert/extrovert negotiation. In some ways you are opposites. Sometimes they will need to step into a mall to go shopping with you, or attend to a family member in a hospital. Those places are so chaotic energetically. But, Empaths can’t run away from things they should do because they are Empaths.
  • Empaths do not deserve to dominate the relationship. Their sensitivity can make that happen, especially if you are one that enables them. You are an equal partner. Communicate with them. Work towards balance.
  • Love them for who they are. They are flawed people just like you.
  • Fuck them a lot.

My apologies for all the ‘might’s and ‘can be’s, for all the generalizing. It’s impossible to write a catch-all post like this. I really do hope that it helps. These were hard learned lessons for me. Feel free to ask questions in the comments.

Shut the Door, Open a Window. Or Multiple Windows?

The fist time I heard the phrase “Shut the door and open a window” was when I was teaching. The idea, for those who aren’t familiar, is to enforce a rule and make some kind of opportunity to redeem or move on. For most it works well, but not for all. Those with a self righteous sense of equality rail against it, and those who are depressed or meek might not look for the window or do the work when given. It is a good idea though, and it gives a glimpse into teacher mentality.

I’ve since heard it expressed by religious folk; “God never closes a door without opening a window.”  Pretty considerate of that God, guy. He never gives us anything we can’t handle. Except for the plague, world wars and dictators, head on collisions, drug overdoses……  Ok yeah take your pick.

Recently I’ve been experiencing it differently. With all this writing and processing I am doing, as I figure things out I am closing doors. Women? Shut that one. Just a couple of days ago, actually. Windows are opening for me, though. The day after I decided to focus my energy on meeting LGBT people in my community and moving in that direction, I got set up on a blind date with a (gasp) woman (it’s just a low pressure hike with myself and the date and her friend that I had dated on just one date. Confused?). Then another window; my ex and I start talking much more than we had been. Some heavy conversation led to me writing her a personal blog of sorts. Ok fine it was a letter. Big shit in there, let me tell you. But it was received well and we will continue talking more. Where is all of this going? I’d be lying if I said had any clue. Makes for some fun drama.   Unless the date is un-fucking-believable I’ll be hoping for friendship there. What about the ex? Well, we will talk. I’m not going to ask her to drop what she is doing, and she knows exactly what is going on in my head. She’s read every blog I’ve written and she’s supportive of me chasing boners.

As I close more doors and figure more out, it will be interesting to see which windows open for me. And who is it that is opening them? Ive got my eye on you, God! Don’t get crafty. Eh, it’s probably Pan. That dude is lusty and surely wants me to have a good romp.

Good night, and good luck. If you see a compelling boner that isn’t attached to a dick let me know.

Evil Sustenance 

Two and a half years ago I was successful dieting. I had lost over a hundred pounds and weighed less than when I was in high school and working out for 3-4 hours a day. I looked better, too. Ok I’ll be honest I was basically Adonis with a paunch. And a bald spot that made me prefer shaving my head. Hey! Stop sniggering!! Seriously though it was the best I had looked and felt in my life. I still can’t stop picturing Adonis with a paunch. That shit is funny.

Well, I let it go and gained it all back and more. I know, I’m the dietary statistician’s expectation. I feel a little bit heartbroken about it, and I definitely feel regret. As I was getting myself into the best shape of my life I was neglecting my emotional health by living in an unsustainable and ungrounded spiritual world. When, as was inevitable, I finally found the ground it hurt like hell. So I reached for the only means I had of numbing the pain; food. And sugar. Mostly sugar. But also a lot of food.

I don’t blame the diet I was on. Although I knew it was unsustainable, too. It worked and I knew there were people and tools to help me transition out of it when I reached my goal. What really happened is that I didn’t have alternative coping mechanisms. I have found some that work now, but they turn me into a hermit. That’s not ideal, either. I have still been drinking soda and eating ice cream and Reese’s. Occasionally I’ll binge. Those are the really rough days. My quasi bullshit reasoning is that, when I make those choices, my healthy coping mechanisms don’t work. So in order for me to remain emotionally healthy I sacrifice my physical health. It’s a trade off, right?

Sustenance is so important in our lives. It is nourishment. It is strength. Sustenance is both food and our practices. Logically there is an opposite to sustenance. Because of my giant ego I’m going to coin my own phrase, Evil Sustenance. That is so much better than any other word or phrase out there. Damn I am good. And because I am so good I feel that Evil Sustenance is self explanatory.

If you are unfamiliar with the Cherokee tale of two wolves, I put it at the bottom of this post as it is so relevant to today’s topic. It seems like most people have heard about or read this nowadays. If not, it’s worth a read.

Questions that I’m asking myself right now: What sustenance do you choose on a daily basis for your self? What food and drink do you consume? What gossip do you spread and what kindness do you enact? Do you judge people harshly or look for the beauty and commonality inside everyone?

I’ve gotten it into my head that I need to get back to physical health so I can be a model gay/bi person. So ridiculous, I know, but I’m also not joking. Any motivation is good, right?  What’s shocking to me is that I didn’t really feel this way when I created a Match.com account in search of women. I knew that I wanted to lose weight and that it would make me even more attractive than I already am. What is it about the thought of exposing myself with a man that makes me so much more self conscious? What the hell is a model gay/bi man anyways? That’s the stupid kind of phrase that bigots use to belittle an entire group whilst complimenting an individual: “You are a credit to your race, son.”  Fuck that fuckery.

Either way, it’s working as some kind of positive force. I’ll take it. Since my last blog I have found newfound willpower and am making really great choices and avoiding evil sustenance.

Thanks for tolerating my cocky commentary. It is completely tongue-in-cheek and is just my sense of humor.
TWO WOLVES

ONE EVENING, AN ELDERLY CHEROKEE BRAVE TOLD HIS GRANDSON ABOUT A BATTLE THAT GOES ON INSIDE PEOPLE.

HE SAID “MY SON, THE BATTLE IS BETWEEN TWO ‘WOLVES’ INSIDE US ALL.

ONE IS EVIL. IT IS ANGER, ENVY, JEALOUSY, SORROW, REGRET, GREED, ARROGANCE, SELF-PITY, GUILT, RESENTMENT, INFERIORITY, LIES, FALSE PRIDE, SUPERIORITY, AND EGO.

THE OTHER IS GOOD. IT IS JOY, PEACE LOVE, HOPE SERENITY, HUMILITY, KINDNESS, BENEVOLENCE, EMPATHY, GENEROSITY, TRUTH, COMPASSION AND FAITH.”

THE GRANDSON THOUGH ABOUT IT FOR A MINUTE AND THEN ASKED HIS GRANDFATHER: “WHICH WOLF WINS?…”

THE OLD CHEROKEE SIMPLY REPLIED, “THE ONE THAT YOU FEED”

The Mechanics of It All

Fair warning: I write pretty frankly about sexuality in this post. My goal here is to be honest and open and work through this stuff, so that’s what you’ll get if you read further.

I’ve been spending time reflecting on just how I got to this point. Where I sit right now feels like the center of a tornado. I don’t know which way is up or down and I’m reaching for anything that will help me figure this out. Maybe that is staring at dicks?

So I have been l have been looking, and I mean really looking, at men and women and trying to be honest with myself about what I’m attracted to. Thank god for Internet porn. It solved what could have been a pretty awkward problem. Anyways, I find that I see beauty and arousal in both, different features and characteristics catch me in different ways. So that’s helpful but also not. I will say that when I look at male and female bodies enough I start to be perplexed at how odd we all are. On some guys a dick and balls looks like they are attached in the same manner as Mr. Potato Head features. And women have such an astonishing variety of vulvas, labia, and breasts that it makes me wonder if they are as unique as fingerprints. We all get flab in odd places and as we grow old our bodies choose to reach for the earth even when our posture remains stately.

I did find this picture of a really beautiful man in his twenties laying on his back with an erection. He is fit with a small amount of definition. He has a gorgeous body and, if I’m being honest, a really impressive dick. And so I thought to myself as I looked at him, “What on earth would I actually DO with him?” There are two carnal acts that everyone thinks of with gay men; blow jobs and anal sex. Aside from those I was trying to picture foreplay and other intimate acts and what they would look like. I’m overhinking everything. How similar or different would it be from sex with women? How would it feel physically and emotionally?

While talking to a close friend about all of this, when I said that I was more emotionally attracted to men, she seemed to think that settled the issue. She was very confident in this. It is true that I long to be held intimately by a man that I care deeply for. And it is also true that emotional attraction without physical attraction is a shit relationship waiting to happen (and visa versa, naturally).

Part of me doesn’t understand why it would matter. Love who you love, right? I’m not denying attraction to women. But I’m looking for direction in my life and am trying to figure out where to put my energy. So far there has been a missing element in my relationships with women. And right now this loneliness is crushing. Yeah I know it is necessary. I’ll say again, though, that it sucks. Also, this decision is scary.

I found out that another dear friend has HPV. Now she has to get tested regularly for cervical cancer. It reminds me that the stark reality for gay sex is that it is the most likely to spread STIs. I don’t want ass cancer, and condoms do not provide complete protection from HPV. Couple that with the fact that so many men are fucked up in the head. Sad but true. Ladies, you know what I mean: The leers, the ogling, the clueless messages with dick pics, the lack of understanding of interpersonal communication and respect. So many men are so very lost in that regard. Is it any wonder that I don’t trust them?  I’ll need to find an exception that helps me get over this. I know they are out there. And yes I know women have their own issues.

My main thought is to stay away from the Internet as a source for meeting people. There seems to be a pretty active meetup group for LGBT people here. Perhaps I’ll try to attend one of those if my ridiculous work schedule permits.

Unless there is a revelation or something huge I will likely post on a different topic next time. Some space and time for reflection and action on all this gay stuff is needed. I’ve got some pretty fun posts in the works. Love, and thanks for reading!

Resistance and Repression

I’ve barely slept for the last three nights. Here’s what’s eating at me right now:

What if my fear of disappointing others, of being the subject of ostracism, of being anything other than what was moral and socially expected kept me from acknowledging who I am?

20-30 years ago was a different time. Still, I’m kicking myself so hard for not being able to acknowledge it and enjoy it and for not being able to tell people how I feel about them. It is important to love all of yourself, not just the convenient parts.

I recognize what I did to myself as repression. And as I sit with the memories and exposed truths it is shocking to me how much I forced away and refused to ever examine. How is it possible to disregard an aspect of yourself so completely? With evidence pushed in my face. With desires present. I’m baffled.

It makes me want to scream. Wish I could just get it out.

Writing my previous post brought to light how much resistance affects how we perceive ourselves and how we behave. Of course it affects different people differently. I’m clearly a super sensitive person and apparently very susceptible to it. I used to think of resistance as a spiritual only concept. Like, “You’re resisting this connection to the universe  and it is holding you back.” And now… Now I see resistance as a “real life” issue. It is the precursor to repression. It is a warning sign. If you’re stifling emotions, fighting to not deal with them, that should be a clue that something is fucking wrong in your life. I’m so angry that I let myself do that. I don’t want you to, either.

Maybe if I keep putting my own turmoil out there for you to read, you’ll be more compassionate towards yourself and towards others. That’s a good hope, right? It helps me to write it down, anyways.

I should make these heavy posts more fun to read. Fuckballs. By the way, remember how I bashed psychoanalysis? Repression is a concept based on psychoanalytic theory. Oops.

Hey, That Looks Like A…

I saw a picture today of Hong Kong, the International Commerce Center stood prominently in the photo. At the base of it, something that looked like a Ferris wheel. Right?? At this point it’s just a big ole dick and balls! So I comment on the photo. And I wasn’t brazen or crass. In essence I asked if anyone else saw it. The one reply to my comment shocked me: “Are you in psychoanalysis? This is a textbook example.” I deleted my comment moments after I read that.

I’m sure that I’m overreacting, because that response set loose a terror inside me that I barely contained. I sat for the last few hours of my work shift feeling emotionally paralyzed. Why the big fuss?  She doesn’t know me, and I cannot possibly be the only person that saw it. Psychoanalysis is fucked up, micro-focused, and only questionably of value. (My fear and contempt for anything that challenges my comfort zone allows me to be dismissive and condescending. Fox News taught me that.)

My older brother, one of my heroes to this day, used to question anything he disliked by asking, “Homo no?” It meant was I or it, the subject of his query, gay. Obviously, gay is bad. Homo no???

My religion growing up made it very clear that homosexuality was a sin. So did the media.

I heard my parents make disapproving comments about a gay person in our congregation. They cared about him. They worked with him closely and respected what he brought to the table, but they really couldn’t get passed the reality that he was gay.

I listened to my high school students throw out the ubiquitous “that’s so gay!” slander. Of course I jumped all over them for doing it. And in college I heard so many disparaging and casually hateful remarks about the gays.

I’ve always been very sensitive. I absorbed what people said and how they said it. Hurtful things became lessons to me; avoid xyz at all costs.

So how was I supposed to handle being in college with gay men? How was I supposed to know what to do when I had feelings for them? How the fuck could I cope with being alone with them and wanting to fuck or be fucked by them? What if I loved them? Hurtful things must be avoided at any cost. It was the only answer I had, and definitely the saddest answer possible.

When I was teaching and singing I began to let more of my feminine side show. I was pretty flamboyant at times. I think it scared the shit out of my ex-wife. I got hit on quite a bit. Many people would ask me when I was coming out of the closet. I think that I thought I was reaching into my divine feminine, which would,no doubt, explain the dick-in-mouth dreams. Mmmmmm. Divine dick. I would pay money to hear Homer Simpson say that.

In December I turn 40. I have no experiences with men, just regrets. Do I think I’m gay? I don’t know.  I know I’m attracted to the beauty of women. And the women I’ve loved, I have loved earnestly. Am I physically attracted to men? Sometimes. Emotionally, though, the attraction can be so strong. Why must so many men be users and predators and so very, very selfish? That alone explains why I don’t have many close male friends. I don’t trust them.

I don’t believe that my family would understand. I certainly don’t believe that they would support. They would still love me, but with the same disapproval that I’ve seen in the past. So I’m afraid. That fear is out there.  Acknowledging this gives me so much respect and admiration for my gay friends. They’ve been through it all.

If I’m putting this out in public, I’m taking a risk. I have accepted that risk. It’s so scary. I suppose that if I’m going to live from the heart, I’d better get used to it.

Chop Wood, Carry Water

I was expecting to write on a different topic tonight. The physical action of chopping wood in preparation for the winter put my mind to this. It’s also very appropriate for where I am today.

There is this saying that I have heard in two different ways. There are probably more. But this is what I know.  I first heard it in my shaman community, and then in my Native American community. In both places it was simply: “Chop wood, carry water.”  I heard it again from Buddhists: “Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water.”

It is a metaphor. Ok that may be obvious. I still think it is worth spelling out. It’s about doing. Do the things you need to sustain your life. Your spiritual state has no bearing on the necessities of life. No one is above or below your basic human needs. Take action. It is caring for yourself, even when it isn’t what you want to do.

Now I’m not telling you what your wood and water really is. For those living off the grid, it’s probably literal. But it also might be doing the laundry. Or the dishes. Clean that toilet!  Vacuum!! Good stuff, huh? Ok, fine. Yeah, it sucks.

What I’ve noticed recently is that there is a physical-spirit benefit to doing physical tasks. The act of doing gets your heart pumping and blood flowing.  It is necessary movement in our all-too sedentary lifestyles. It creates a better space for us to live and do our spiritual practices. Doing inspires.

And if you’re depressed or don’t have a spiritual practice, the act of doing raises you up just a bit. Do, people. Hopefully doing inspires you to create. And if you don’t have a chore to do, perhaps you should take Mark Manson’s advice: “Do something. Anything. Action isn’t just the effect of motivation, but also the cause of it.”

Here’s a link for Mark’s writing on the subject:

http://markmanson.net/do-something

I’m betting Mark will be so grateful for the link that he’ll want to sent me lots of money. Mark, just send me a message for my PayPal info.

Listen, Act, Accept

Listen:

Today was not what I expected. I went to a ceremony with my local spiritual community. It was a big deal; a sweat lodge followed by an all-night Tipi Ceremony. In early July I committed to go. When I arrived there were about thirty people there, most of whom I already new. It felt good to see them and to meet the new ones. They really are some of the loveliest people from all walks of life. People flew in from Mexico some other far away places for it.

Now, I’ve really been working on listening to my intuition and my guides. Mostly my intuition because I’m too fucking self involved to ask anyone else for help. Yeehaw. Anyways, listening. It can be incredibly valuable and rewarding when you act on intuition.  It’s the main strategy I have been using for self care and it has been the most successful way I have found.

Gavin de Becker states in his book , The Gift of Fear, that “We think that conscious thought is better, when in fact, intuition is soaring flight compared to the careful plodding of logic.” Take that out of the context of his book and I do believe he has given us a universal axiom.  Right on, Gavin. So, pay attention to your intuition and you will soar above those suckers using logic.

So the next question you will ask is, “How do I validate my intuition to know that it is guiding me correctly.” Well, thanks. You just asked one of the hardest questions there is. I’m kinda mad at you now.

Specificity is the first principle that I use to discern . (Don’t laugh at me stating that I have principles, that’s rude.)  When I get a feeling or a message, I ask where it is coming from. Is it coming from my heart space? Angels? Which Angel? Power animal? Charlie Sheen? The red devil on my shoulder? Take the time to figure it out. Use whatever method you have that works. When in doubt, automatic writing works wonders.

The next principle that I use (shush!) is to ask “Why?” Really take the time to figure out what is going on.  Make a list. Use logic. I’m serious! When you are learning how to discern and trust intuition, you’re going to need to make lists to figure out if that intuition is really fear because you are afraid of embarrassing yourself (etc) or if there is a real reason behind he message. Fear isn’t intuition, it is an emotional response and those aren’t reliable guides for decision making.  Listen to your heart and your gut, then use your brain to discern the message. Evaluate it and decide to discard it or to act.

Act:

Taking action on intuition is tough. It gets easier when you have had some positive experiences. Also, take the high road and act with class. So, like, If you’re bailing out on a ceremony, tell them. Be honest.

Accept:

I’m still working on this one. I’m really sad because I chose to leave what is one of the most powerful and beautiful ceremonies that I’ve ever witnessed. My friends there will miss me. I will miss seeing their journey and hearing their experiences. However, my intuition told me that there ceremony was not an energetic match for me right now. The sweat lodge that I did partake in confirmed it. So I listened and discerned, and I acted and told our community leaders that I was leaving and why. I hugged my closest friends. And I left. I know it was the right choice. Desires and what is best don’t always align. So I’m working on accepting my choice and forgiving myself for missing a beautiful night.

I also want to give some serious love to our community leader, Sweet Medicine. She was busy with last minute preparations and still took the time to listen to me, make sure it wasn’t fear, and accept and appreciate my decision as valuable to myself. There was no guilt trip in her response, only love.  Love you, Sweetie.