Remember the famous seen from Poltergeist when little, blond Carol Anne turns from the static and snow speckled TV screen and says, "They're baaaack..."? Well, when it comes to that scene in The Shellie Show... She's back. The ghost. The shadow. The Sheila. That's right. The little bitch has reared her ugly head. It's like cancer that goes into remission and then comes back four years later as stage 5 terminal. It's like the alcoholic falling off the wagon after a four year sobriety. It's gaining back the 50 pounds you were so proud you lost. It's devastating. Sheila, for those of you who may not be familiar with this entity, is my (alter) ego, my head, my raging river of a mind, my little cherry red, shoulder-sitting-devil, complete with horns, pitch fork and evil smirk. Sheila is Satan. She must die. I will love her to death, literally.
I am having a hard time with this. I thought I was "better". I thought I had this "manic/depressive" stuff under control. I thought I figured out how to always be happy. I thought. I thought. I thought. Ah, there's the problem. I let my thoughts take control. That is Sheila's fuel. Thought. Random, errant, flippant words running around inside. She feeds on the Negative. The Real Shellie has valuable knowledge, though. It's powerful. This knowledge is the weapon that will hold the line, and hold Sheila at bay. The knowledge is...Thoughts are like pets. They are trainable. If you let something slide, the thought creates it own reality. Usually one filled with doubt, fear, assumptions, personal gain, and self-sabotage. If you catch it in the moment with simple acknowledgment and replace it with something purposeful,you create your own reality. I was lazy about monitoring them. I got confused, and thought thinking about my thoughts would do me some good. My mind has become convoluted with to do's,future, past and the like. Time to sweep up shop. It's best to do this job in full. Get under the rug, find the tumble weeds in the corners, wipe the base boards and then mop with a a solution of 100 parts bleach and 1 part water. No spec of fear based thought form will survive. This translates spiritually into 90 minutes of hot yoga twice a week, uncountable hours of flight time in the hoop, solitude in nature, receiving and giving bodywork, meditation, being conscious of my eating, finding gratitude for the most minuscule of gifts and trusting all the while.
Sheila takes many forms. And, boy, is she crafty. In her dormancy she was plotting a strategic game. She has learned how to change forms. The last time I encountered Sheila she was a feisty word-smith, with a sharp tongue and slightly violent tendencies. I overcame this by honoring its purpose and simply deciding it didn't serve me anymore. Instead of hurling cell-phones at faces, I did my best to take a deep breath instead. This took practice. A LOT of practice. Busting lips doesn't work. Taking your own personal time out does. Sheila is super-powerful, I won't deny this. But she underestimates the power of The Source. This Source is My Source. When I finally decide to make a change and call on Source, and my intention is fueled by love for all of humanity, love for the earth, and curiosity for all of the unseen universal truths I have yet to experience, Sheila stands no friggin' chance. None. Zip. Zilch. She is neutralized instantly. It is a simple switch that I flip, and I am whole again, with no division, no separation. I will admit, however, that I am responsible for her return. As Gandhi says, "No one can hurt me without my permission." I am not a victim of Sheila. I have, through unconscious thinking, eating, and lack of motion, allowed her to sneak through the back door. She's back with a vengeance, attacking my confidence, authenticity, trust, belief in myself, and occasionally spewing a bit a toxicity all over those around me. She was dormant for so long, and now, after a brief break from the little ego-tripper, she's risen again, full strength. Batteries recharged. Dammit!
All is well. In honesty, this is a breakthrough. I am able to acknowledge the triggers that ignite the fire of the Sheila Beast. To be aware of the triggers is the first step to healing. Let me define the word 'trigger' via Shellie speak.
Trigger- noun. A word, person, place or experience that instantly teleports one from the present moment into a past or future based on fear. This causes a 're-action' which is usually irrational, unconscious, defensive and possibly destructive behavior. The trigger itself is often harmless. It is the perception of the 'triggered' one that creates the illusion at hand.
One day it's your mom, then your dad, then the boyfriend, then the sister or the brother or the boss or the friend or the freakish looking lady cashing you out in Wal-Mart. That's the thing about triggers. The ego (Sheila) can turn just about any Joe Schmo into someone that facilitates feeling small, silly, stupid, insecure, enraged, catty, ugly, worthless, and completely and totally insignificant. She is the master shape shifter. She is clever, but she isn't real.
I am a warrior. I have an arsenal of tools to aide in my healing conquest. I know now what I must do. I must activate my inner Alchemist. I embrace, Love and transmute Sheila and all she represents. I cannot 'beat' Sheila. I cannot 'win'. All of those concepts are ego-driven. Those concepts are based on duality, the idea that one side is better, greater, good or bad. Sheila has surfaced to teach me something. Sheila is Shellie. Shellie is Sheila. Shellie and Sheila are both just identities. Really, neither one exists. Both identities are based on a stories. My True Being is formless. No thought, no body, no-thing. This is the place where the two must meet, integrate, and become one. I am not just the dancer, I am the dance. I am not the healer, I am the healing. I am not just the human, I am the being. Simply by typing these words I can feel my chest open, my heart open, my mind open, and my breath deepen. Today, I loved myself a little more. In realizing that my shadow side is a product of Light, I expanded. In realizing that the way to dissolve the demons is to love them, I evolved. I believe that love is the tool we have been given on this planet to experience what we all ultimately desire; freedom. I love Sheila. I love Shellie. I love being able to observe both of them and how one affects the other. I love that I am unattached to both of these identities. I love that when I find myself in attachment to these identities, I suffer. I love that I acknowledge suffering as an opportunity to expand, grow, and become more aware of My Divinity. I love my thoughts, as I am NOT my thoughts. I am the one that observes, sifts through, and edits my thoughts. I love the triggers. I love You. I love. I love. I love. This is the answer. This is the affirmation. Love.
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