Meet Sheila. Sheila is the borderline psychotic personality that I take on when my emotions are deep, my heart is hurt, and my pride is drowning in whatever hot mess of a situation I have created. Sheila says things I choose not to remember. ‘Things’ is a bit of an understatement, actually. She turns her words into razors, purposefully cutting into the old scar tissue of another’s wounds. If you look into Sheila’s eyes it is easy to see her heart is absent, and the gaping hole creating the void is visible in the darkness of her pupils. If you look long enough, deep enough, you may even see small little Shellie hiding inside, shaming herself for giving Sheila her power once again.
Sheila, once released, is on a seek-and-destroy mission. She will use her powers in wicked ways. She knows where you are soft and weak, what areas of your psyche are tender and which emotional veins you leave vulnerable. She digs deep into your dignity with her sarcastic claws. Her cavalier references to your traumatic past will leave you paralyzed. The poison of her words runs deep into your existence as the tongue-lashing leaves your throat closed. Even if you could speak, Sheila has no ears. Anything she hears is perceived as a threat, insult, dig, injury, defamation, or interruption. An encounter with Sheila is certain death, for the relationship at hand, that is.
Sheila met her match, once, with a Welshman. Sheila gave it her best, but after a while the continuous love and forgiveness the Welshman showed Sheila started to make it easier for me to take control of the beast. There were moments when Sheila would force her way through, but her attacks only went as far as an intense glare or a few snippy remarks. The Welshman’s tactics were clever, yet from the heart. Through hugs, sweet kisses, and much-needed bouts of playful fun and laughter, Sheila became dormant. She will always be lurking in my shadow, and that is fine. That is her place. Sheila represents all of my unmet needs, insecurities, and false truths. Sheila believes that she is unlovable and a victim. She is so far removed from her Divinity that she cannot feel even one iota of compassion for herself or anyone else. Her only goal is to defend the empty space that is filled with hate instead of a heart. It is a very small, sad existence.
We all have our Sheila’s. I gave this aspect of myself a name, because it is easier for me to understand it and let it go when I realize it doesn’t define me. I am grateful to the young Welshman for helping me to deal with one of the darkest parts of myself. I did it, but he certainly was a facilitator. There is a Welshman of your own somewhere in your life. Someone is the sunshine that will willingly help you deal with your scary shadow side. These lovely teachers come and go, always leaving us with a very important lesson. We can accomplish so much when we love with an open heart. Sadly, it is the nature of relationships to sometimes end. When this happens, we cannot re-release our Sheila’s, letting them run wild. It is important to understand this is where the true growth happens. Leave Sheila as part of the shadow, and let the light shine instead of reaching into the defense-mechanism grab bag. Crawl into those cracks of your being where Sheila seeps through, find the un-met need, and meet it with a simple deep breath.
I actually hugged myself today. I found myself in a needy, tiny, microscopic frame of mind and gave myself a big-ass freakin’ bear hug and cried for about 15 seconds. I felt Sheila shrink. It’s subtle, but I can tell her extinction may be near. It will be interesting to see what new breed of animal stems from this period of solitude in my life. I have a feeling this one will have wings. ☺
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The Shellie Show: Episode One: Change
Change. Ironically, it is the only constant in life. I used to be very fixed, rigid, and uncooperative when it came to the idea of change. “I am this way. I am that way. This is how it is. This is my opinion. I am right. You are wrong. We are different,” I would proclaim. I am a Scorpio, after all. Our ruling element is water, which could insinuate fluidity. My water, however, took the form of ice. This made my life an entertaining spectacle full of drama, crisis, and cheap thrills. I thrived on the theatrics and created one colorful experience after another. There were many times when it all became so painfully hard I seriously considered how much I actually wanted to participate in the goings on of this world. I broke free of this addictive cycle when I embraced the one thing I was truly petrified of experiencing. Change. If I was driven/stubborn enough to avoid it for this long, perhaps I could take that same mindset and conquer the unknown. I am eternally grateful for this sudden change in personality.
Since I have willingly taken on change I have the confidence to approach life without fear of failure. This is massive. It has catalyzed an enormous amount of growth for me, and for my purpose. I never wanted to leave the South. Now, I want to experience the entire world and all of the beautiful people in it. I never wanted to be too different from anyone else for fear of not fitting in. Now, my desire is to be exactly who I am, and trusting that I will fit where I belong. I thought having a large circle of friends/acquaintances was what I needed to feel important. I realize now that a true connection with someone is so special, as opposed to tiny strings attached to dozens of people scattered about. I used to be all about me. I was the star, taking center stage of The Shellie Show. I am now so comfortable with giving, and becoming a much better listener. About that Shellie Show of mine…
The Shellie Show’s ratings were dropping, so I needed to revamp the script and incorporate some variation. One script re-write I am working on now is the removal of old patterning. I am sick of having interactions with my partners/bosses/teachers/friends/strangers that mimic my relationship with my father. So, two alterations are taking place simultaneously. One. I am changing my relationship with my father. I flung the doors of communication wide open. He will walk through on his own time. Two. I am recognizing the ways in which I can deal with my habitual behavior. My long-term goal is to dissolve the needy tendencies, cravings for approval, and childlike addiction to attention. There are a few scripting changes that The Director suggested that I wasn’t too fond of at first. I.e., the removal of my co-star (partner) but I trust that both my co-star and I will find the gifts hidden in this re-write. I think he (my co-star) was ready to embrace some changes of his own. He is missed, and all is well. Another will audition soon enough…
I’ve learned that in order for The Shellie Show to be a hit I have to communicate with The Director on a regular basis. We need to be on the same page, discussing details about how this will all unfold. I trust that my Director always wants my joy to take center-stage, and that the scenes involving pain and sadness will be laced with humor and refreshing bouts of creativity. I have suggested a few changes in scenery. The Director mentioned to me sometime back that The World would be a great place for a sequence of episodes to take place. I feel that setting the stage for change/evolution in a few different foreign, beautiful, and sacred remote locations could really boost the morale of the main character (me).
Overall, change and healing have been the running themes throughout The Shellie Show. I believe the two go hand in hand. I was reading ‘The Prophet’ the other day. I flipped to the part on Joy and Sorrow. “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain”, the author states. Certain changes could be viewed as sorrowful, perhaps a relationship that has come to an end. The important thing to realize is that the only reason you are sorrowful is because whatever you have ‘lost’ gave you great joy. Sorrow and joy are inseparable, as are change and healing. Things are changing for the main character of The Shellie Show, and damn it, I’m doing my absolute best to make the most of this moment.
I like the way my character has adapted. I’m punctual more often, that’s a new development. I’m creating a healthy routine, also. For example, I went to the gym tonight, for the third time this week. The bowl of cereal I ate minutes after completing my two-hour work out was not a part of my healthy new regimen, but I enjoyed it all the same. I’m flossing regularly, writing a hell of a lot more, even doing my own taxes. I’m even making my food for the next day the night before. Hold the phone, am I getting organized? Is there any Virgo in my chart?
The point is, is that change changes people. When met with resistance, change can feel so friggin’ funky and end up catalyzing a dark period. I said dark, not bad. Dark is just dark. It is meant for reflection and rest. In contrast, when change is met with fluidity and acceptance a helluva lot of joy seems to follow suit. I finally learned how to do the latter, and I am thankful that I found this courage. But this little dark stint was welcomed with open arms. Pain is pain. Pain is growth. It just is.
I am malleable. I allow myself to be clay in the hands of The Director. I am letting go of my personality, for I am only 24. It’s OK to change my mind, my heart, my style, my beliefs, opinions, needs, wants, and habits. When someone asks me something I would normally have a pre-programmed answer to I stop for a moment, and then answer with ‘I don’t have an opinion about that’. It’s true. I don’t want to have an opinion about every issue on the planet. Opinions are like butt-holes. Everyone has one, and some stink. I can’t get rid of my anus but I can certainly drop a bunch of unnecessary opinions.
Opinions and beliefs are simply segregating. They create arguments and separation. This doesn't resonate with me anymore. And anyone who knows me that is reading this is probably thinking ‘WTF? Shellie is the most passionately opinionated person I know!’ Well, I’m changing. And that’s that. It feels good. I do like to debate and argue, but only because I was taught that it was an appropriate form of communication. Again, it doesn’t resonate with me anymore. Instead of forcing my program onto someone else I would rather listen to them and say ‘Wow, that is a really beautiful way to feel about that’. What I feel works best is to realize that we all interpret this world differently. I have The Shellie Show running all day long, so it’s nice to check in to other channels. But still, The Shellie Show is MY PROGRAM. You have yours, he has his, and she has hers. I can’t possibly know how the main character of The Jamie Show is experiencing her day because I am experiencing my own day, my own episode. I can check in with her though, open a line of communication, and maybe take some scripting ideas she got from her own conversation The Director and put them into effect in my own, my own life. The point is that we all see the world differently and that is what makes it so special. We each see the same thing in a different way. So, we end up with beautiful things like art and music and tragic things like murder and war. Our differences are our connection, and in the same breathe, our separation. It’s only contrast.
Maybe, if we could merge all of our programs, create one big network, and trust that The Director had all the details taken care of, perhaps we could all embark on change together. We could face the unknown together, trust in the Source that brought us all here together. For now, I will keep on healing, learning, and loving myself so that The Shellie Show will be an appealing example for others. As for you, I honor your script, scene, and style. Thanks for tuning in!☺
Since I have willingly taken on change I have the confidence to approach life without fear of failure. This is massive. It has catalyzed an enormous amount of growth for me, and for my purpose. I never wanted to leave the South. Now, I want to experience the entire world and all of the beautiful people in it. I never wanted to be too different from anyone else for fear of not fitting in. Now, my desire is to be exactly who I am, and trusting that I will fit where I belong. I thought having a large circle of friends/acquaintances was what I needed to feel important. I realize now that a true connection with someone is so special, as opposed to tiny strings attached to dozens of people scattered about. I used to be all about me. I was the star, taking center stage of The Shellie Show. I am now so comfortable with giving, and becoming a much better listener. About that Shellie Show of mine…
The Shellie Show’s ratings were dropping, so I needed to revamp the script and incorporate some variation. One script re-write I am working on now is the removal of old patterning. I am sick of having interactions with my partners/bosses/teachers/friends/strangers that mimic my relationship with my father. So, two alterations are taking place simultaneously. One. I am changing my relationship with my father. I flung the doors of communication wide open. He will walk through on his own time. Two. I am recognizing the ways in which I can deal with my habitual behavior. My long-term goal is to dissolve the needy tendencies, cravings for approval, and childlike addiction to attention. There are a few scripting changes that The Director suggested that I wasn’t too fond of at first. I.e., the removal of my co-star (partner) but I trust that both my co-star and I will find the gifts hidden in this re-write. I think he (my co-star) was ready to embrace some changes of his own. He is missed, and all is well. Another will audition soon enough…
I’ve learned that in order for The Shellie Show to be a hit I have to communicate with The Director on a regular basis. We need to be on the same page, discussing details about how this will all unfold. I trust that my Director always wants my joy to take center-stage, and that the scenes involving pain and sadness will be laced with humor and refreshing bouts of creativity. I have suggested a few changes in scenery. The Director mentioned to me sometime back that The World would be a great place for a sequence of episodes to take place. I feel that setting the stage for change/evolution in a few different foreign, beautiful, and sacred remote locations could really boost the morale of the main character (me).
Overall, change and healing have been the running themes throughout The Shellie Show. I believe the two go hand in hand. I was reading ‘The Prophet’ the other day. I flipped to the part on Joy and Sorrow. “The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain”, the author states. Certain changes could be viewed as sorrowful, perhaps a relationship that has come to an end. The important thing to realize is that the only reason you are sorrowful is because whatever you have ‘lost’ gave you great joy. Sorrow and joy are inseparable, as are change and healing. Things are changing for the main character of The Shellie Show, and damn it, I’m doing my absolute best to make the most of this moment.
I like the way my character has adapted. I’m punctual more often, that’s a new development. I’m creating a healthy routine, also. For example, I went to the gym tonight, for the third time this week. The bowl of cereal I ate minutes after completing my two-hour work out was not a part of my healthy new regimen, but I enjoyed it all the same. I’m flossing regularly, writing a hell of a lot more, even doing my own taxes. I’m even making my food for the next day the night before. Hold the phone, am I getting organized? Is there any Virgo in my chart?
The point is, is that change changes people. When met with resistance, change can feel so friggin’ funky and end up catalyzing a dark period. I said dark, not bad. Dark is just dark. It is meant for reflection and rest. In contrast, when change is met with fluidity and acceptance a helluva lot of joy seems to follow suit. I finally learned how to do the latter, and I am thankful that I found this courage. But this little dark stint was welcomed with open arms. Pain is pain. Pain is growth. It just is.
I am malleable. I allow myself to be clay in the hands of The Director. I am letting go of my personality, for I am only 24. It’s OK to change my mind, my heart, my style, my beliefs, opinions, needs, wants, and habits. When someone asks me something I would normally have a pre-programmed answer to I stop for a moment, and then answer with ‘I don’t have an opinion about that’. It’s true. I don’t want to have an opinion about every issue on the planet. Opinions are like butt-holes. Everyone has one, and some stink. I can’t get rid of my anus but I can certainly drop a bunch of unnecessary opinions.
Opinions and beliefs are simply segregating. They create arguments and separation. This doesn't resonate with me anymore. And anyone who knows me that is reading this is probably thinking ‘WTF? Shellie is the most passionately opinionated person I know!’ Well, I’m changing. And that’s that. It feels good. I do like to debate and argue, but only because I was taught that it was an appropriate form of communication. Again, it doesn’t resonate with me anymore. Instead of forcing my program onto someone else I would rather listen to them and say ‘Wow, that is a really beautiful way to feel about that’. What I feel works best is to realize that we all interpret this world differently. I have The Shellie Show running all day long, so it’s nice to check in to other channels. But still, The Shellie Show is MY PROGRAM. You have yours, he has his, and she has hers. I can’t possibly know how the main character of The Jamie Show is experiencing her day because I am experiencing my own day, my own episode. I can check in with her though, open a line of communication, and maybe take some scripting ideas she got from her own conversation The Director and put them into effect in my own, my own life. The point is that we all see the world differently and that is what makes it so special. We each see the same thing in a different way. So, we end up with beautiful things like art and music and tragic things like murder and war. Our differences are our connection, and in the same breathe, our separation. It’s only contrast.
Maybe, if we could merge all of our programs, create one big network, and trust that The Director had all the details taken care of, perhaps we could all embark on change together. We could face the unknown together, trust in the Source that brought us all here together. For now, I will keep on healing, learning, and loving myself so that The Shellie Show will be an appealing example for others. As for you, I honor your script, scene, and style. Thanks for tuning in!☺
Monday, February 16, 2009
Needy Girl
Warning! Needy girl alert! The subject is 5’2”, brunette, brown eyes, and heartbroken. She has been known to use methods such as rebounding, sexual co-dependency, and various numbing techniques to avoid her pain. Be careful! She’s armed and jaded. She has the verbal venom ready and there is a force field of steel surrounding her heart. If seen, approach with caution. She may cry or leave her body at any moment. Don’t make any sudden moves, for two things could happen. She may cling to you and suck you dry of your life force. Or, she may be so closed off that all of your emotions will rebound off of her armor and smack you in the forehead, leaving scars that could affect you for lifetimes. This needy girl just needs time. If you really want to help her then hug her, appreciate her uniqueness, and let her be herself. If you, or anyone you know, is a needy girl then it is important to acknowledge the awesomeness of the feminine, bask in the radiance of being an emotional woman, and find solace in knowing and speaking your own truths.
To all the needy girls out there, it’s ok to be in your own company. You will find it refreshing to not worry what others think. It will help you to evolve into the Goddess that you are. You will find it a great deal easier to be yourself and not a modified, watered down version of you. Welcome to being truly alive, where each day you are grateful that you are living your own dreams, no one else’s. Welcome to feeling fabulously free. Embrace the solitude, take time to dance with the Great Choreographer, and find fulfillment in the stillness. Love the silence, for it is the wordless conversations that will lead your to your answers. It’s ok to be needy right now, needy girl. Now is a brilliant time to learn to satisfy your own needs. You are strong enough. Turn the needs into deeds. Start becoming exactly who you want to be. Take all the actions you can in order to live the life that calls to you. By being at peace with who you are, where you have been, and where you are going, you are doing yourself and the world a great justice. This will attract all of the right people to you, ultimately attracting the one who will allow your true essence to shine, your blossoming to occur, and your fragrance to permeate the atmosphere. He will be the key that opens you all the way, so that your heart may give and receive so fluidly it will be like breathing. Ah, yes, breathing. That is your homework, needy girl. Breathe. Just breathe. When it’s all falling apart, find your gratitude and breathe. All is well, and you are whole.
To all the needy girls out there, it’s ok to be in your own company. You will find it refreshing to not worry what others think. It will help you to evolve into the Goddess that you are. You will find it a great deal easier to be yourself and not a modified, watered down version of you. Welcome to being truly alive, where each day you are grateful that you are living your own dreams, no one else’s. Welcome to feeling fabulously free. Embrace the solitude, take time to dance with the Great Choreographer, and find fulfillment in the stillness. Love the silence, for it is the wordless conversations that will lead your to your answers. It’s ok to be needy right now, needy girl. Now is a brilliant time to learn to satisfy your own needs. You are strong enough. Turn the needs into deeds. Start becoming exactly who you want to be. Take all the actions you can in order to live the life that calls to you. By being at peace with who you are, where you have been, and where you are going, you are doing yourself and the world a great justice. This will attract all of the right people to you, ultimately attracting the one who will allow your true essence to shine, your blossoming to occur, and your fragrance to permeate the atmosphere. He will be the key that opens you all the way, so that your heart may give and receive so fluidly it will be like breathing. Ah, yes, breathing. That is your homework, needy girl. Breathe. Just breathe. When it’s all falling apart, find your gratitude and breathe. All is well, and you are whole.
Hoop Healing
Since I have been flying solo in the relationship realm I have picked up my hula-hoop everyday. I hoop at the beach during sunset every chance I get. I wait for the moon to arrive and then I hoop a little more. And then, when I’m ready and I have all kinds of feminine energy flowing through me, I sit down in the sand, hug myself, and let the tears and wails flow freely. This has been a profound healing experience for me. I feel incredibly alive. You know you’ve reached a new milestone in your life when a good, hard cry feels as satisfying as a belly laugh.
I really missed hanging out with myself. I still don’t really know what the hell to do with my time, however. I overstayed my welcome until almost midnight at Jamie’s one night. I went to sleep around 8:30pm at least two nights in a row. I was at the gym for three hours last night. I find myself wandering around the grocery store for hours when all I need is a jar of peanut butter. Side-note: I am quitting peanut butter. I read recently that peanuts are a source of aflatoxins, a highly carcinogenic mold. Also, the reason for the cravings may indicate a copper deficiency (peanuts are high in copper.) Plus, the oil is PB is usually rancid. Ew. And, just to top it all off, my PB fix of choice is Skippy Natural, which has added sugar. I read the find print the other day and it said ‘Peanut Butter Spread’, indicating that this was not simply peanut butter, but an imposter. WTF?! Giving up my boyfriend and peanut butter? This could get dangerous.
So, to deal with all this in a healthy way I am hooping my sweet ass off. I hooped in the rain tonight. That was refreshing. I didn’t care that my hair was all matted to my face, mascara creating little black rivers on my cheeks, or that I smelled as good as two-month-old leftover meatloaf. I was ok with it, and that was the only opinion present, therefore the only opinion that counted. It’s kind of nice to have the option of showering, as opposed to the obligation in consideration towards the poor soul who would be sleeping inches from your meatloafyness.
I have a hoop workshop coming up in next weekend that I am seriously psyched about. I have worshipped this guy as a Hooper since I started last summer. His name is Jonathan Baxter, and he and his wife Ann are simply awesome. They’re good ole southern folk from North Carolina, which I resonate with immensely, and I admire the practice and philosophy they teach very much. Because hooping gets me connected, I’ve developed some awesome connections with other hoopers, and I will get to stay all three nights of the retreat in the same house that Ann and Bax will be staying in! I am so so so excited about this. I am ready to learn all I can from them, and from myself, during this time.
I believe that this is all divine timing. I loved spending time with my boyfriend. I rarely turned down a chance to sleep next to him. If we were still involved, I would have made different decisions, and most likely wouldn’t have lead myself towards this amazing opportunity. Therefore, I am so very grateful for it because I honor the exchange I have had with Spirit. I gave up a lot when I finally surrendered and trusted that I would be taken care of outside of a relationship with a partner. Spirit is already blessing me so wonderfully with such significant opportunities for growth and exciting change. I grieve the loss of my best friend/boyfriend, but I see the larger picture.
I am finding myself in the hoop, and it is an experience I will share with others when the time is right. This liberation is like nothing I have ever experienced. To have the Hoop as your partner instead of a person is an adventure. It is a relationship. I trust my creativity and myself, and I surrender to the rhythm of the hoop. I’ve found that I can feel sexy without it having to be for someone else. All of this occurs in the presence of a circular piece of plastic tubing decorated with flashy tape. It’s too simple. I love it. Try it, you will, too ☺
I really missed hanging out with myself. I still don’t really know what the hell to do with my time, however. I overstayed my welcome until almost midnight at Jamie’s one night. I went to sleep around 8:30pm at least two nights in a row. I was at the gym for three hours last night. I find myself wandering around the grocery store for hours when all I need is a jar of peanut butter. Side-note: I am quitting peanut butter. I read recently that peanuts are a source of aflatoxins, a highly carcinogenic mold. Also, the reason for the cravings may indicate a copper deficiency (peanuts are high in copper.) Plus, the oil is PB is usually rancid. Ew. And, just to top it all off, my PB fix of choice is Skippy Natural, which has added sugar. I read the find print the other day and it said ‘Peanut Butter Spread’, indicating that this was not simply peanut butter, but an imposter. WTF?! Giving up my boyfriend and peanut butter? This could get dangerous.
So, to deal with all this in a healthy way I am hooping my sweet ass off. I hooped in the rain tonight. That was refreshing. I didn’t care that my hair was all matted to my face, mascara creating little black rivers on my cheeks, or that I smelled as good as two-month-old leftover meatloaf. I was ok with it, and that was the only opinion present, therefore the only opinion that counted. It’s kind of nice to have the option of showering, as opposed to the obligation in consideration towards the poor soul who would be sleeping inches from your meatloafyness.
I have a hoop workshop coming up in next weekend that I am seriously psyched about. I have worshipped this guy as a Hooper since I started last summer. His name is Jonathan Baxter, and he and his wife Ann are simply awesome. They’re good ole southern folk from North Carolina, which I resonate with immensely, and I admire the practice and philosophy they teach very much. Because hooping gets me connected, I’ve developed some awesome connections with other hoopers, and I will get to stay all three nights of the retreat in the same house that Ann and Bax will be staying in! I am so so so excited about this. I am ready to learn all I can from them, and from myself, during this time.
I believe that this is all divine timing. I loved spending time with my boyfriend. I rarely turned down a chance to sleep next to him. If we were still involved, I would have made different decisions, and most likely wouldn’t have lead myself towards this amazing opportunity. Therefore, I am so very grateful for it because I honor the exchange I have had with Spirit. I gave up a lot when I finally surrendered and trusted that I would be taken care of outside of a relationship with a partner. Spirit is already blessing me so wonderfully with such significant opportunities for growth and exciting change. I grieve the loss of my best friend/boyfriend, but I see the larger picture.
I am finding myself in the hoop, and it is an experience I will share with others when the time is right. This liberation is like nothing I have ever experienced. To have the Hoop as your partner instead of a person is an adventure. It is a relationship. I trust my creativity and myself, and I surrender to the rhythm of the hoop. I’ve found that I can feel sexy without it having to be for someone else. All of this occurs in the presence of a circular piece of plastic tubing decorated with flashy tape. It’s too simple. I love it. Try it, you will, too ☺
The Epiphany
Epiphany! I have found the reason for all of my failed relationships. Of course, I figure this out one relationship too late. God must get a kick out of irony. (I know it’s all divine timing I’m just pouting.) So back to my epiphany, it all comes down to my relationship with my father. Now, one must understand that I have always known that my relationship with my father would play a part in every partnership I would encounter. However, I was unaware of how, well, unaware I would be about this. I knew it, but did nothing to reconfigure the karma. Frannie Hoffman is a wonderful catalyst for such a shifting. Side note: Frannie Hoffman is a spiritual counselor and intuitive. If you have any issues (meaning if you have a body you occasionally find imperfect, insecurities, financial dilemmas, emotions, came from a womb, anger towards anyone, or have ever had any question about the purpose of your existence) then you should seek this sort of counseling. It will allow you to work your own miracles, develop trust, and realize that any form of dysfunction you may be feeling always comes back to a lack of Divine Connection.
Ok, so back to my epiphany. That’s the thing about epiphanies. There are always there, but distractions are so easy…
My father was a pastor, a man of faith, a disciple of the Lord, speaker of the Truth, leader of the Way, and a seriously shitty father. I was forgotten at school, sometimes not picked up until well after the sun had set. I was verbally berated, constantly feeling small and defenseless, leading to defense mechanisms that would continue to space between my father and I, and ultimately my partners as well. I saw my dad as an obstacle that would eventually overcome. Something I could move on from and forget about, as I got older, moved out, and made my own decisions. Man, did I have another thing coming.
I have realized over the past few years that my differences with Dad are karmic. I will never, nor should I desire to, escape from it. It will be cyclical, repeating itself over and over again until I figure the damn thing out. Whenever I reach the point where I can look at my father and see him as a man, and not the ultimate creator of my pain, powerlessness, and darkness, then I will be free. Today I had a major breakthrough with this. Because my father was a minister, I associated him directly with God. Because I was raised a Southern Baptist, I was taught many lessons on how to be afraid of God. Well, I was afraid of my father, my father spoke often about knowing God, so by deductive reasoning my father must be God. That should be where I discover God. My seven-year-old self asks herself, “Where is God?” That man there in the pulpit, your father, the source of your reality, the provider of your home, food, and feelings. I realized today that because I chose to disconnect from my father, stray from him, never know him, never respect him, and avoid all he brings up in my emotional field, I have remained disconnected from my Truth, my Source, my God. God is not in my father. My father represents the duality, and my separation. I was so pissed off, thinking that none of my boyfriends were really connected to Spirit, that I was doing all of the Spiritual growth work hoping they would follow suit, jump in, and we were float away together on a cloud right up God’s butthole. I wasn’t really doing anything except looking for God IN them. Just like when I was a little girl and thought I could find God in my Daddy, I have held on to that lie thinking I can find God in someone else, something external, something other than myself. So after the layers are peeled away, there it is. If I STAY connected to God, then it doesn’t matter what my partner is doing, because I will see them as I see myself: connected. It was just frustrating them to hear me talk about it, and not really live it. I was sometimes connected, but I wasn’t staying connected when I was in their presence, leading me to experience the shadow of Shellie, the fearful Shellie, the small seven-year-old Shellie who did not know what her needs were, but certainly knew they weren’t being met by God, I mean, Dad.
Whew! Man, it’s so heavy. But you know what? I’m willing to go there. I’m willing to realize that there will be days when my entire belief system falls apart and it’s not about the other person. It’s about me. It’s about me, and my stuff, and the other person is just my reflection, projection, and wounded sibling. It wasn’t just my dad that fucked me all up, it was his dad too, and your dad, and my dad’s dad. It’s not just my abandonment and rejection and disconnection- it’s humanities. It is the entire existence. All I can do is see my own self, love unconditionally, receive instead of reject, invite instead of abandon, and connect with myself. Even when it sucks ass and the other person is triggering me in every way possible I still have a choice. I can freak out and lose myself, or, I can take a deep breath way down into my belly and stay connected. Stay connected to the negative, shadowy, small feelings, and realize that it’s mine. I earned it. Breathe into it, and let it out with each exhale. Invite the person triggering me to go take a walk, sit with me in a bath or under the stars, and let the weird sticky sensation dissipate. It’s MY shit. MINE. MINE. MINE. I feel like I should lick it or pee on it so no one else will want it. I’ve never wanted to claim it until now. I am simply ready to move forward. I know that if I just break-up and shut down, then I will certainly experience it again, just in a different shade, on a different set, with a different co-star.
So I think it’s time for Shellie at 24 to grab hands with Shellie at seven and get to know her Pop. Perhaps I’ll give Dad a call, or write him a letter just asking how his life is. If I don’t get to know him now, I fear I may cling to the father I knew seventeen years ago. That seems unfair, to think someone hasn’t changed or evolved in seventeen years. I mean, I certainly have, haven’t I? Or am I still perpetually seven years old? If I can’t get a present day relationship with my Dad, I will most likely continue to have past-tense relationships with my partners. My Dad was a pastor who couldn’t connect to the very Source he spoke of. My most recent partner was Healer who is couldn’t connect the very Source he spoke of. I am a Healer who couldn’t connect to the very Source she spoke of. Anyone see a pattern? For once, I do. I bow to the men who have brought me to this gift. Divine Connection. I couldn’t find it in them, but I found it from my interactions with them, and I am finally feeling right where it was the whole time. My heart. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, for all who were involved in bringing me to my Connection.
Ok, so back to my epiphany. That’s the thing about epiphanies. There are always there, but distractions are so easy…
My father was a pastor, a man of faith, a disciple of the Lord, speaker of the Truth, leader of the Way, and a seriously shitty father. I was forgotten at school, sometimes not picked up until well after the sun had set. I was verbally berated, constantly feeling small and defenseless, leading to defense mechanisms that would continue to space between my father and I, and ultimately my partners as well. I saw my dad as an obstacle that would eventually overcome. Something I could move on from and forget about, as I got older, moved out, and made my own decisions. Man, did I have another thing coming.
I have realized over the past few years that my differences with Dad are karmic. I will never, nor should I desire to, escape from it. It will be cyclical, repeating itself over and over again until I figure the damn thing out. Whenever I reach the point where I can look at my father and see him as a man, and not the ultimate creator of my pain, powerlessness, and darkness, then I will be free. Today I had a major breakthrough with this. Because my father was a minister, I associated him directly with God. Because I was raised a Southern Baptist, I was taught many lessons on how to be afraid of God. Well, I was afraid of my father, my father spoke often about knowing God, so by deductive reasoning my father must be God. That should be where I discover God. My seven-year-old self asks herself, “Where is God?” That man there in the pulpit, your father, the source of your reality, the provider of your home, food, and feelings. I realized today that because I chose to disconnect from my father, stray from him, never know him, never respect him, and avoid all he brings up in my emotional field, I have remained disconnected from my Truth, my Source, my God. God is not in my father. My father represents the duality, and my separation. I was so pissed off, thinking that none of my boyfriends were really connected to Spirit, that I was doing all of the Spiritual growth work hoping they would follow suit, jump in, and we were float away together on a cloud right up God’s butthole. I wasn’t really doing anything except looking for God IN them. Just like when I was a little girl and thought I could find God in my Daddy, I have held on to that lie thinking I can find God in someone else, something external, something other than myself. So after the layers are peeled away, there it is. If I STAY connected to God, then it doesn’t matter what my partner is doing, because I will see them as I see myself: connected. It was just frustrating them to hear me talk about it, and not really live it. I was sometimes connected, but I wasn’t staying connected when I was in their presence, leading me to experience the shadow of Shellie, the fearful Shellie, the small seven-year-old Shellie who did not know what her needs were, but certainly knew they weren’t being met by God, I mean, Dad.
Whew! Man, it’s so heavy. But you know what? I’m willing to go there. I’m willing to realize that there will be days when my entire belief system falls apart and it’s not about the other person. It’s about me. It’s about me, and my stuff, and the other person is just my reflection, projection, and wounded sibling. It wasn’t just my dad that fucked me all up, it was his dad too, and your dad, and my dad’s dad. It’s not just my abandonment and rejection and disconnection- it’s humanities. It is the entire existence. All I can do is see my own self, love unconditionally, receive instead of reject, invite instead of abandon, and connect with myself. Even when it sucks ass and the other person is triggering me in every way possible I still have a choice. I can freak out and lose myself, or, I can take a deep breath way down into my belly and stay connected. Stay connected to the negative, shadowy, small feelings, and realize that it’s mine. I earned it. Breathe into it, and let it out with each exhale. Invite the person triggering me to go take a walk, sit with me in a bath or under the stars, and let the weird sticky sensation dissipate. It’s MY shit. MINE. MINE. MINE. I feel like I should lick it or pee on it so no one else will want it. I’ve never wanted to claim it until now. I am simply ready to move forward. I know that if I just break-up and shut down, then I will certainly experience it again, just in a different shade, on a different set, with a different co-star.
So I think it’s time for Shellie at 24 to grab hands with Shellie at seven and get to know her Pop. Perhaps I’ll give Dad a call, or write him a letter just asking how his life is. If I don’t get to know him now, I fear I may cling to the father I knew seventeen years ago. That seems unfair, to think someone hasn’t changed or evolved in seventeen years. I mean, I certainly have, haven’t I? Or am I still perpetually seven years old? If I can’t get a present day relationship with my Dad, I will most likely continue to have past-tense relationships with my partners. My Dad was a pastor who couldn’t connect to the very Source he spoke of. My most recent partner was Healer who is couldn’t connect the very Source he spoke of. I am a Healer who couldn’t connect to the very Source she spoke of. Anyone see a pattern? For once, I do. I bow to the men who have brought me to this gift. Divine Connection. I couldn’t find it in them, but I found it from my interactions with them, and I am finally feeling right where it was the whole time. My heart. Thank you, Thank you, Thank you, for all who were involved in bringing me to my Connection.
The Process
The moonlight was brighter than the man-made lights of the resorts, condominiums, and street lamps. It cast my shadow onto the white sand. I used my silhouette as my mirror as I danced on the shore. It was a Wolf’s moon. The brightest sphere of reflective light I have ever seen. The silver light bathed me in my solitude. I embraced my femininity as I moved my hips, stretched my legs, arched my back, and allowed gravity to have hold of my head. I was the wind. I let go in all of the ways a woman wants to let go. I was barefoot, no bra, just a tank top and boy-shorts, moving my body to my music, under my moon, on my time. Each time my foot sunk into the cool earth I was grateful. I had nowhere to be, no one to be. It was freedom. I have tasted it.
When I was seventeen I got my first tattoo. I was underage, but clever. I paid the artist an extra $20. I spent my first semester of my junior year in Economics class sketching the tattoo I longed for. I walked out that day with my first tattoo: a feather. Above it, the word ‘Freedom’. It sits in its simplicity on my sacrum, where most other girls have bouncing butterflies or the typical tribal. I was so young, but I knew one thing for sure. Freedom was all anyone was ever truly seeking. We work so we can have money so we can go on vacation so that we can feel free for a moment. It is the epitome of irony. I work, I desire money, I certainly desire a vacation, but my heart understands something my brain does not. Freedom comes far more easily than we think. I felt that for the first time last night under the glow of the Wolf’s Moon.
Freedom is this simple thing that we are programmed to believe is complicated. Being free requires one action and one action only: be blissful. Blissful? I mean, I’m happy and all. But to exist in a state of total bliss? Can’t say that I know much about that. It’s strange. I’ll fall into little stages of bliss occasionally without even trying. And that’s just how it happens I suppose, you can’t be trying to find bliss. You just have to be ‘being’, and bliss finds you. If one is totally blissful just being in one’s presence, then one is free. I was dancing, and on the verge of this mysterious ‘Bliss.’ So I danced a little more, thought a little less, sang a little louder, moved a little less timidly and bam! There it was. Euphoria. On the beach, under the moon, with some music and a little help from my hula-hoop, I had a blissful experience. I was alone. No else was around. Well, I was not alone at all really. I had the most amazing company one can have, The Divine. Ah, eureka! Communing with The Divine in any way, on any day, all day…Bliss! Finding the specialness in every single second. I know now how to at least create moments of bliss when I’m having trouble letting them find me. If I keep creating it, then it only makes sense for that act to become easier and easier, eventually becoming habitual. I suppose this means this whole ‘Living in Bliss’ thing is what I like to call, a process. This is no surprise.
Spirit’s greatest works occur in stages, human evolution being the most interesting I’ve witnessed. From an egg and sperm to cells to embryo to a fetus to a baby to a child…and if we are conscious our psyche will follow our bodies and we grow to become adolescents, adults, sages and crones, and then back to the magical dust from whence we came. God didn’t just bless the world with a bunch of beautiful butterflies. He gave us caterpillars. Maybe these crawling leaf-eating creatures are the most enlightened beings to ever walk the planet. I mean talk about evolution! They go from being on the ground, to finding the resources inside of themselves to build their own coffin (for the insect probably feels death approaching), and they let go of everything they knew in the world. I am sure the caterpillar falls into a state of deep meditation and communion with Spirit. Just when the bug feels like it’s over, voila! He bursts forth into the world a brand new being. No longer does he crawl and nibble from the floor of the earth, fighting to stay hidden from hungry birds and slithering hunters. Now he flies high! He is full of color and contrast and clarity. He feeds from the sweet nectar of life inside of the flowers. He frolics and finds nothing but joy and freedom. I admire this process. Therefore, I will continue to pursue this process that will lead me to bliss. So while I’m still here, on the ground, I might as well look up and enjoy the beautiful, celestial view of the Universe I am so gratefully a part of.
When I was seventeen I got my first tattoo. I was underage, but clever. I paid the artist an extra $20. I spent my first semester of my junior year in Economics class sketching the tattoo I longed for. I walked out that day with my first tattoo: a feather. Above it, the word ‘Freedom’. It sits in its simplicity on my sacrum, where most other girls have bouncing butterflies or the typical tribal. I was so young, but I knew one thing for sure. Freedom was all anyone was ever truly seeking. We work so we can have money so we can go on vacation so that we can feel free for a moment. It is the epitome of irony. I work, I desire money, I certainly desire a vacation, but my heart understands something my brain does not. Freedom comes far more easily than we think. I felt that for the first time last night under the glow of the Wolf’s Moon.
Freedom is this simple thing that we are programmed to believe is complicated. Being free requires one action and one action only: be blissful. Blissful? I mean, I’m happy and all. But to exist in a state of total bliss? Can’t say that I know much about that. It’s strange. I’ll fall into little stages of bliss occasionally without even trying. And that’s just how it happens I suppose, you can’t be trying to find bliss. You just have to be ‘being’, and bliss finds you. If one is totally blissful just being in one’s presence, then one is free. I was dancing, and on the verge of this mysterious ‘Bliss.’ So I danced a little more, thought a little less, sang a little louder, moved a little less timidly and bam! There it was. Euphoria. On the beach, under the moon, with some music and a little help from my hula-hoop, I had a blissful experience. I was alone. No else was around. Well, I was not alone at all really. I had the most amazing company one can have, The Divine. Ah, eureka! Communing with The Divine in any way, on any day, all day…Bliss! Finding the specialness in every single second. I know now how to at least create moments of bliss when I’m having trouble letting them find me. If I keep creating it, then it only makes sense for that act to become easier and easier, eventually becoming habitual. I suppose this means this whole ‘Living in Bliss’ thing is what I like to call, a process. This is no surprise.
Spirit’s greatest works occur in stages, human evolution being the most interesting I’ve witnessed. From an egg and sperm to cells to embryo to a fetus to a baby to a child…and if we are conscious our psyche will follow our bodies and we grow to become adolescents, adults, sages and crones, and then back to the magical dust from whence we came. God didn’t just bless the world with a bunch of beautiful butterflies. He gave us caterpillars. Maybe these crawling leaf-eating creatures are the most enlightened beings to ever walk the planet. I mean talk about evolution! They go from being on the ground, to finding the resources inside of themselves to build their own coffin (for the insect probably feels death approaching), and they let go of everything they knew in the world. I am sure the caterpillar falls into a state of deep meditation and communion with Spirit. Just when the bug feels like it’s over, voila! He bursts forth into the world a brand new being. No longer does he crawl and nibble from the floor of the earth, fighting to stay hidden from hungry birds and slithering hunters. Now he flies high! He is full of color and contrast and clarity. He feeds from the sweet nectar of life inside of the flowers. He frolics and finds nothing but joy and freedom. I admire this process. Therefore, I will continue to pursue this process that will lead me to bliss. So while I’m still here, on the ground, I might as well look up and enjoy the beautiful, celestial view of the Universe I am so gratefully a part of.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)