Saturday, October 31, 2009
Friday, October 30, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Each week offers a new and exciting experience. My friend has had the pleasure of reiki treatment one week and aura picture reading in another. Since we arrived so late, we only witnessed an interesting debate about how much influence we have over our own destiny. I was hypnotized by the generous crystal collection. I spent the rest of the evening talking to the woman who opens her home up. She shared her stories behind what led her to this spiritual experience.
Arriving so late I was unable to get a picture reading of my aura because the camera was already shut off. Apparently you place your head on a machine connected to a monitor that displays colors that represent your aura. I became excitedly obssessed by the idea of knowing my aura. I was suggested to talk to another woman who reads chakras.
This is also the same woman who wore this stunning necklace. It looked familiar and felt like it carried history. My focus just got consumed by that accessory. I'm not sure why. After a while, some of the people present felt familiar and comfortable. It wasn't quite a deja vu, though. That entire evening was interesting. As I saw the house, I felt a powerful connection to it before I even knew which house we were going to. Then the woman wearing the necklace looked familiar, but that feeing was quickly replaced by the necklace I couldn't help be intrigued by.
Another interesting experience I had of her was that she felt different to me than the others who were there. I'm still not sure why. I felt like she was powerful and connected. My focus went towards the source of her power. It didn't feel pure, but it didn't feel dangerous, either. It actually triggered a conversation I had with a friend. He said that I should be careful with experimenting with witchcraft because I have powers, and I can do some harm since it comes from a dark source. I've always had this dark fascination to the craft contained by a sense of undefined hesitation. I'm cautious about the idea of harnessing my powers, but I don't fear my premonitions, although I do believe that it comes from the same source. My friend explained that my visions come from the same dark place, but I have to learn to control it because it's a part of me. No one said I have to use it for something bad.
That memory disconnected me from the woman briefly. As I returned to the present, I felt soft energy and an absence of danger. I beieve that it's possible her powers come from a dark source or has been contaminated in something dark, but she transcended beyond that. I don't know if that's true or not, but something in me focused on her because she was familiar. I find that curious.
Anyways, I asked her to read my chakra. She said my root chakra is fine. For the first time in my life, I have a strong basic foundation. I was surprised because experience has unfavored the structure and solidity of my foundation. Yet I wasn't surprised by this assessment. My saccral chakra is blocked. I was suggested to draw or paint because I'm creatively stifled. Very accurate. As she began exploring my solar plexus, I felt her reaction, a strong sense of knowingness and unbreakable certainty. She said, "God, do you laugh?" Except it was asked in a rhetorical sense with an apparent understanding that the answer is no. I've actually been intentionally excluded from comedy houses because my silent laughter as I call it made others uncomfortable. My roommate joked that she's going to tutor me on funny, and I'm looking forward to beginning those lessons. On some level, I knew that my inability to recognize and function properly in a humorous setting was stifling somehow, but I didn't know it affected me so deeply. I was also suggested to sing as a way to be less in my head. I have to spend more time with the trees, which really spoke to me because active meditation is most beneficial for me. I actually like walking in an isolated area surrounded by trees. She said that I should trust my heart more, that it's important. I also have to stand up for myself. She emphasized the importance of quieting my mind and minimizing my anxiety because I need to refine my emotional control. I have an active third eye, which means that I'm intuitive and am clairvoyant. I get visions through sight, but it's important because it's activated that I learn to reduce anxiety and not overthink as a way to anchor my emotions. She stresseed that a lot. She said that or else it's like a stack of bricks slamming down, and it's too much. She said all I need to do for my anxiety is to breathe more. Even in the next week or two, I should be more conscientious of my breathing.
A friend of mine and the most laid-back person I know suggested breathing exercises for me on a day I was having difficulty managing the overload of visions I was getting. It's interesting because I was experiencing a dizzying amount of visions of him, through him, because of him. The very source that triggered this was also the same source that neutralized it and recommended breathing exercises. I can feel his emotional openness and receptivity. It was the process he used that led him to the same suggestion the spiritualist recommended.
It was great to hear that from a stranger because I felt more secure in the idea of believing in my visions. Everything she said was dead on. She also observed that my friend and I are opposites, which is why we have a balancing effect on each other and why we're so close. That was exciting and interesting to hear because we did bond quickly and we do have a friendship, but that was the second time we hung out. The spiritualist sensed this strong, lasting and existing friendship in us, but we just started hanging out. That was really inspiring and awesome.
So I'm going to put the effort to draw or paint. I can only afford to draw at this point in my life, but I'm attracted to the idea of painting. I have a couple visions already in mind. I'm also going to sing more. As soon as my dry skin heals, I'm going to take more walks along a trail by my apartment that's surrounded by trees. Breathing exercises frighten me, but that's something I'll have to face. I didn't have a spiritual experience; I had a spiritual intervention, but I hope to have one soon.
Saturday, October 24, 2009
I was in a roomful of black people, and I felt uncomfortable. The perception of feeling uncomfortable, which I associate with fear, was occurring around black people who are perceived as being dangerous, a threat. It made me feel guilty, ashamed, confused, and disappointed in myself. Did I really fall into social bigotry? I thought I was above all of that. The emotional overload was becoming too much. As I was preparing to leave, the woman hosting the show asked if I was leaving. She could sense my discomfort and tried to alleviate it. She asked kindly if I felt out of place. I openly admitted that I did. I felt guilty admitting that because I was essentially revealing that I felt uncomfortable in a roomful of black people, but she was really understanding and sweet.
I ultimately decided to stay. I'm conflicted about my experience there. Overall, the energy and vibe was amazing! The poetry was really a work of art, musical, and most of all powerful. There was one woman who was introducing each poet, and she just had a magnificent presence about her. She was like refreshing sunshine and it brought light and security. It really put me at ease.
The poets expressed some meaningful, symbolic, and powerful messages. It was truly touching. I didn't agree with every belief system, but overall there was a sense of passion that I can respect. One woman, one proud Black woman, wrote poetry about herself as a proud black woman. She took the time to share that she saw people of all races there and that it represents any and all proud women. I really respected her inclusiveness. Poems are meant to be personal. You should feel connected to it, and of course you're going to draw on your own experiences. She is a proud black woman, so her poem projected that. It was beautiful.
That's the kind of presence and energy I want to be exposed to. But I suppose bad seeds exist in all places. There was this one black guy that really dampened the evening for me. His poems were passionate, well-written, and undeniably the work of an artist, but he was a racist fucking asshole! The evening gets kicked off with everyone grabbing a word from a bag. We're given the choice to go up on stage and express what that word means to us. I can't remember his word, but he began talking about how blacks have to stick together and not in a culturally-strengthening sense but from an exclusivist's point of view.
He began expressing rage and anger towards white America and how they were trying to take him down after talking about the destruction and damage that racism perpetuates, he goes and ignites a fire of his own. He also spews his disapproval of interracial relationships even to the hinted degree that interactions among other races is damaging to any culture. I was overwhelmed by how conflicted I felt about his position. I felt saddened by this narrow-minded mentality and what he's missing out on, while I simultaneously disapproved of his unacceptable racism. It wasn't just my imagination, either, because the same woman who was trying to comfort me looked over at me as this guy was poisoning the energy around me to make sure I was okay.
I didn't notice it at the time, but when I began feeling uncomfortable and I felt a sense of violation, I was actually in close proximity to him. I was picking up on his emotions. I was even warned that I have to be careful about my empathetic abilities because I may begin to feel and experience things I don't understand. I have to learn to be more aware of where it comes from, so I'm not burdened by it. This experience demonstrated the realness of that.
I even texted my only two friends who were planning to arrive that they not show for the very reason that they're white. They're grown adults, and I don't want to make the decision for them to not appear. They would've disagreed with his position but have the ability to maintain their composure. However, the guy talking shit is easily the type of person who would approach them to trigger confrontation. That would've resulted in an unpleasant experience for everyone. So I asked them to not come. It made me feel awful to be in a position that even requires me to make such considerations and evaluation.
A passionate, beautiful, sexy, confident woman and artist recited a poem about her ascendance from being an abused victim to confronting it. I felt her essence, and it was the most powerful experience. It's been a long time since I've thought about my experiences with abusive boyfriends. I've always heard people say that once you experience something like that it stays with you and it never goes away. I feel like that's the natural way, but I left that or I thought I did when it was over. Her poem reminded me of my own experiences and surfaced a lot of emotional blockage I didn't even know I had. I started boiling of rage, fear, inadequacy, resentment, strength, confusion, superiority, inferiority, past errors, pain, desire, relief, and so much more.
I believe I was meant to be there to experience exactly what I experienced, the dark fear that haunts me and my past experiences that keep it alive. I would've never been able to do that if my friends were there because I would've distracted myself the way I always do. I socialize because I'm afraid to be alone with my own thoughts. I feel a sense of false security, distraction, and support when I'm surrounded by my friends. My energy is stabilized by them. I wouldn't have been able to immerse myself with the contrasting energies that invaded me and release the toxic negativity I've held onto for so long.
I didn't perform. I'm still not confident as a writer which is so different from a poet. You don't have to be an artist to be a writer. Poets are artists, always. I'm not human enough to consider myself a poet. And I'm not going to lie. The lyrical, rhythmic black poets intimidated me. My underdeveloped progress as a writer exploring the realm of poets with no rhythm filled me with a sense of inadequacy and fear.
But I realized something there. I may never be confident as an artist, but what's important is to not allow my fears to control me. I want to become the type of person who will go up there and recite a poem to liberate myself from the clutches of fear. I don't embarrass easily. I'm just afraid to get started. Deep down, I don't think people will turn their nose at my poem. It's just an irrational fear that prevents me from departing with the negativity that's practically been worn as second skin.
I was mesmerized by the poets. I found comfort in what one poetist said. Poets are tortured souls. That really resonated in me and made me feel more at home with something I love. I've always felt like writing is a world that belongs to the introverts. I'm an extrovert. I co-exist in a world outside of my reality surrounded by people completely separate from myself. I love it, but I've always felt out of place because I don't possess the very qualities that define and produce an artist. But I am a tortured soul. I've gone through so much crap, and I'll continue to because I have a heavy burden of toxic karma I carry with me. All of the awful things I've done in a past life is coming back to haunt me. Those are the very experiences that create writers. So as it turns out, I do belong in this world. I was born through my pain, and I'm built to survive.
Friday, October 23, 2009
I finally got the rashes checked out. I have an extreme case of allergies, not food allergies, just allergies. The itchiness was so intense that I got an infection. I had to take antibiotics for the infection and allergy meds. I completely crashed. I became weak, slow, and incoherent. After a week of that, the meds finally kicked in and the rash is starting to minimize.
With all this commotion over my skin, I started to neglect the original symptom - a cough, which went away with my allergy meds. I held off on taking prescription cough syrup in hopes that the oral allergy meds would alleviate the problem, and it did. But around the time that it treated the cough, I began experiencing chest pain.
It started Sunday. It was a slight discomfort that I only noticed when I ate or drank. After four consecutive sips or small bites, I would feel a little pressure. I only noticed it because I don't usually feel that way when I eat. But other than that, it was mild. It's gotten so much worse, which makes it sound more intense than it is. I feel this pressure all the time now, and it makes eating and hydrating an unpleasant experience and one I've began avoiding. Clearly not the best course of action.
It got so bad that I haven't slept properly for the past couple of days because lying down applies too much pressure on my chest. Part of me wonders if I'm making the discomfort worse by being conscientious of it. Burping seems to relieve it temporarily, but I could barely do that. In the midst of the rash, I totally forgot about the chest x-rays I was supposed to have done. But now I'm getting really scared because I was terrified when I first heard chest x-rays.
It's a common procedure after having a chronic cough for as long as I have. Procedures don't usually frighten me, and the way I quickly "forgot" about it makes me wonder if I'm subconsciously trying to avoid it because I fear what the results will uncover. Or maybe I'm just exaggerating about this whole thing. Maybe my body is just doing this as a way to force me to follow through on a basic procedure.
Either possibility is plausible until I get the chest x-ray and I find some answers. If I'm subconsciously fearful for something valid, I need to rush to get this done. If my body is just crying wolf, by addressing it, hopefully it'll go away. I keep wondering why such extreme reactions are occurring within my body, and then something hit me. My friend checked up on me yesterday to make sure I was okay, even though he knew I was working which would imply that I'm okay because as he put it,"I have my ups and downs throughout the day."
It was an accurate description of how I've been for the past couple of weeks, but it was such an odd analogy for allergies. That sounds more like a manic he's talking about. Then it hit me. Maybe this is my body's way of emotionally reacting. Maybe that's why it's sporadic, random, intense, extreme, and unpredictable. They have all of the characteristics that emotions and feelings carry.
I thought I was doing "okay", okay being a relative term. I accept it. Sometimes thoughts float by. Then they leave. Other times I was telling my roommate how I feel absent of feelings, and it's weird. I guess it doesn't seem natural. I thought I wasn't intentionally suppressing emotions, but maybe I am? (As I was proofreading my writing, I found that I didn't type wasn't in the previous sentence. I wrote out: I thought I WAS intentionally suppressing emotions).
Today my skin is raw red and flaking dry. I have no idea why it's like this. On Monday my face swelled up pink and I couldn't open my left eye. I started to recover as I was talking to my roommate and beginning to feel better about concerns in my life. That correlates with my theory that these allergies are a manifestation of feelings I've been ignoring or avoiding. I suppose awareness of this is the first step, but I don't know how to fix it.
I came home today and the instant I walked in, she asked if I was okay. I felt off, but I can't define it. I still can't, so I lied to her and said everything was fine only to realize that my face is super red. Even if I can't understand why I feel whatever I feel, I think it's important to be aware of it. She said she could "feel" that something was wrong with me. How can others know this about me before I do? Am I really that emotionally-inept? And has it become so problematic that I'll continue to have these types of manifestations?
My allergy meds have left me emotionally dead and I'm detached from my visions. A mild annoyance with a friend of mine suspended all of my premonitions, and that surprises me. It scares me that he has that kind of power over me, but it was a learning experience. I have known for a while that I'm connected to him and in ways I wish I wasn't at this point in my life, but a suspension over something so trivial is telling. As much as I hate my visions and wish they would go away, I felt like a piece of me was missing when they were gone. Yet I did feel more calmer and peaceful, but it was still unnatural. I'm going to learn have to co-exist in the midst of visions that slam, thrash, or calmly enter my world unexpectedly. I have to find the center of my hurricane because I can't be someone I'm not. I'm not a girl without visions. Sometimes I wish I were, but that's all it is - a wish.
I think it's time I try and set up a session with an acupuncturist friend of mine. If this is an emotional glitch, I can't think of a better person to help me with this. But I hate the idea of asking for his help, even though this is his job and he needs the business. We've been trying to hang out since spring, but fucker's always so busy. I have these visions about who he can be to me or could've been, and I think most of it has passed. Those possibilities no longer exist in this reality because of other events that have occurred. But I'm disappointed by the idea that we finally make time to "hang out" when I need him. My visions suggest something so much more meaningful than that.
Thursday, October 22, 2009
I wish I can go back to that place. No, I wish I can go to that place now, not the past but the present. As these thoughts seep into my mind and mingles with my heart, my eyes water and tears trickle down, burning my face. I remember to myself that not feeling is the worst feeling. Not comforted by this reality but almost becoming comfortable in this pain because it’s the only time I feel something real, pure and raw. It’s the one place where I can be free and the closest I can now come to feeling safe.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Monday, October 19, 2009
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Friday, October 16, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Monday, October 12, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Monday, October 5, 2009
People who know me know that I can be a resentful, vicious bitch. So yeah I can hold onto anger. It’s a natural state to be in if I wanted to be. It used to be. That’s not how I instinctively react anymore, but that habit still exists in me. My fault lies in not being fully aware of it. I’m no longer outwardly angry, so it’s as though I’ve eluded myself into believing that the anger no longer burns inside of me, that the fire has been long dead. Yet it remains.
I don’t want that anymore, and I think that’s the first step towards correcting it, letting it go! By pouring all that excess out, I can invite new energy in. I thank the people in my life who help me to realize that every day. I love you all, but I’d like to become the person one day who can do this on my own without someone putting a mirror up to the obvious. I want to reach that kind of self-awareness. I’ll always need people in my life to observe what I can’t for myself, but this is something I should be more connected to.
I feel like releasing the anger is a step towards the right direction. Obviously. In the past, I wasn’t ready to. I think it was one of the few constants in my life. Then so much crap happened that I didn’t have the time to direct anger out openly, but I must’ve still continued it on a subconscious level. I just assumed something in me changed. Then the anger felt absent, so I thought I was over it. I don’t hear the frustration in my voice because it’s been a part of me for so long. It’s evident to others, though. I have to stop seeing things as trivial.