As chapters open and close in our lives, and the lives of those who we love, it's hard not to look aback on the old times, the good times, the times where dreams and nightmares were shared. The realm of penultimate love and brotherhood. The days of staring at the clouds and dreaming of what could be through our lives.
At times like this it's hard to think on the days before that time where we had the same feelings of nostalgia that gave birth to the good times we are now mourning in passing of the times we thought would never end.
At the heart rips out and new doorways to the future open, we weep openly for the pains we have endured and the joy that made us never want to breathe another breath on this earth lest it sully the memory of that perfect moment.
We fear the next steps in every journey as much as we look forward to them. Some drown these sorrows in the spirits of grains, others in the spirits of the hearts. Others look forward to these sorrows as the passing of the rain brings the rainbow of promise of a new tomorrow.
As catalysts, we encourage change in others, but we have to remember this fear and honor this spirit of mourning. Wen the new dawn approaches, we embrace the mourning and the morning as a part of the process of transformation.
This is odd but comes at a time where a part of my life that is more precious than a bond of blood moves on to it's next adventure as I move on to mine. I wish him the best and my heart goes with him and will celebrate the blossoming of the lotus that shall be this new chapter in his life. My spirit shall be in the breeze, it the mist generated from fire and water, and the odd dead fish that will be dropped by a wayward seabird at an inopportune moment.
Even as I sit here amidst tears of joy and rain of times past, I know the future holds many adventures still to come. I mourn as if something were being ripped apart, when I know it's just an ever widening of the great circle of Relation and resonating energy that binds us of like souls together. Our true family. the souls that danced together in the other world that gravitate towards each other on this plane through a series of chaotically inspired coincidences.
Alas, the past is just shadows, the sun rising in the East for new beginnings cast those shadows into the West into that seat of power whence shadows dwell.
Onward into the coming dawn. I welcome my new sister into my heart with open arms in joy of the brilliance of life inspired in a wandering bear. I know his footsteps in the sand shall never be a single line again.
It is often difficult for me to correctly express my emotions and stray off into a joke to hide them, this song came into my head and I listened to it on repeat to keep the proper sense of presence. The lyrics don't directly apply to any of what I wrote but the nostalgic essence is appropriate.
I choke back tears as I write this... In my young life there stood one bastion of love, a true embodiment of the nature of 'agape'. True to the nature of the word, this woman loved me as Christ loved all mankind. This isn't to say that I was able to get away with anything I wanted as some grandchildren do, on the contrary, I was always told what was expected of me, and then loved despite my faults.
She served others out of love and had to be forced to sit and eat, and always ate last. We always had plenty, but still it was in her nature to be sure all were settled before settling herself.
I have done mediumship work for years privately and have been stunned at my precision, but I shut down after my grandmother passed on shortly after her birthday in 2003. This past Thursday, I heard her voice again through another for the first time in over ten years. The medium knows me, but there was no way for her to have known the name my grandmother never used with anyone except on her tax forms. Even her checks had her middle name. I checked out her obituaries online and my name doesn't appear in any of them. Hearing this medium speak her "secret" name was enough validation for me. As I have said, I have done this for others before, but it has never happened to me.
I have wandered off from the true tone I wanted to convey here, but I will attempt to move it back to course. She said she was sorry for not doing a better job for me, but I could only reply that nobody could have done a better job than she did with me, which is the truth. She made sure that I never wanted for anything and always supported me in anything I wanted to do and anything I wanted to be. I always tried to not disappoint her. I fear I have by some choices I made in life, but I pray that she knows that those crossroads would have appeared no matter what she would have done.
I'm not being overly dramatic when I say I owe my life to this woman.
I owe my mother a lot too, but even my mother said to me once that it sometimes feels like I'm more her brother than her son in regard to how my grandparents cared for me, paid for my education and supported me financially through my training. I felt for a long time like this statement from her was a hurtful one, like I was bypassing her mother role. I know now it was simply a statement of fact for my grandmother was the one that was most there for me.
I lived in their house for a month after my grandfather had his stroke and had to be moved to my mother's house for full time supervision. On my grandmother's bedside table were two books. Her bible and a copy of my book that I had signed and given to her. I can only believe that she saw the truth in those words and knew I had found God in my own way and my own heart, and that she took comfort in those pages as she did her Bible.
I have log held on to her spirit, but as the previous post details, I let her go after a decade of mourning that loss. Now she is with me more than ever. I give her the highest praise my soul can muster, and offer up my unconditional love as she did. Something tells me I should make the trip to Scarborough Fair this year. I've always had an excuse not to go, but she came across with the name Rosemary and sang on to sage and thyme.
So I'll end this now at 2am. I must go off from the dreams of day into the dreams of night. Perhaps another adventure lies there waiting for me as did last night. I must have been having a grand time as the dog decided to wake me up and tell me to be quiet so she could sleep.
"To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come," ~ Shakespeare
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt
(On the side of a hill
in the deep forest green)
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
(Tracing a sparrow on
snow-crested ground)
Without no seams nor needlework
(Blankets and bedclothes
the child of the mountain)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
(Sleeps unaware of the
clarion call)
Tell her to find me an acre of land
(On the side of a hill,
a sprinkling of leaves)
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
(Washes the ground with
so many tears)
Between the salt water and the sea
strand
(A soldier cleans and
polishes a gun)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Tell her to reap it in a sickle of
leather
(War bellows, blazing
in scarlet battalions)
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
(Generals order their
soldiers to kill)
And to gather it all in a bunch of
heather
(And to fight for a
cause they've long ago forgotten)
Then she'll be a true love of mine
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine ~Simon & Garfunkel
I wasn't going to tell this story, but I feel I should share this good medicine.
Last night as I lay down to sleep, I thought about my Grandmother and how I never really let her go or said goodbye.
I had a long talk with my memories of her, thanked her for many things and then told her it was ok to go, that I would be fine.
All of a sudden, I felt Bear (the Great Bear Spirit) wrap her arms around me gently and kindly. I could see her arms and claws as if they were mine.
She turned me to my memories of Christmas with my Grandmother and all the good times that were had, and all the memories of the Christmas holidays. The family, the presents, the cooking, the great feelings of joy I had as a child at this time of the year. I saw the background of it all as a snowy mountain area with a gigantic Christmas tree of swirling lights.
All these lights were a joyful memory and I felt myself as this tree of joy with all of this life flowing within it.
As I came back to my bedroom, I could still feel Grandmother Bear's arms around me, as I still do now.
I have been asked a few times, "what's with the Red Eagle name?"
I wasn't sure but my latest turn in the road of self discovery has provided me with the answer.
Back when I was told the name, I was also lead to this story:
SHOOTING THE
RED EAGLE
A man in buckskins sat upon the top of a little
hillock. The setting sun shone bright upon a strong bow in his hand.
His face was turned toward the round camp ground at the foot of the
hill. He had walked a long journey hither. He was waiting for the
chieftain's men to spy him.
Soon four strong men ran forth from the center wigwam toward the
hillock, where sat the man with the long bow.
"He is the avenger come to shoot the red eagle," cried the runners to
each other as they bent forward swinging their elbows together.
They reached the side of the stranger, but he did not heed them. Proud
and silent he gazed upon the cone-shaped wigwams beneath him.
Spreading a handsomely decorated buffalo robe before the man, two of
the warriors lifted him by each shoulder and placed him gently on it.
Then the four men took, each, a corner of the blanket and carried the
stranger, with long proud steps, toward the chieftain's teepee.
Ready to greet the stranger, the tall chieftain stood at the entrance
way.
"How, you are the avenger with the magic arrow!" said he, extending to
him a smooth soft hand.
"How, great chieftain!" replied the man, holding long the chieftain's
hand.
Entering the teepee, the chieftain motioned the young man to the right
side of the doorway, while he sat down opposite him with a center fire
burning between them. Wordless, like a bashful Indian maid, the
avenger ate in silence the food set before him on the ground in front
of his crossed shins.
When he had finished his meal he handed the empty bowl to the
chieftain's wife, saying,
"Mother-in-law, here is your dish!"
"Han, my son!" answered the woman, taking the bowl.
With the magic arrow in his quiver the stranger felt not in the least
too presuming in addressing the woman as his mother-in-law.
Complaining of fatigue, he covered his face with his blanket and soon
within the chieftain's teepee he lay fast asleep.
"The young man is not handsome after all!" whispered the woman in her
husband's ear.
"Ah, but after he has killed the red eagle he will seem handsome
enough!" answered the chieftain.
That night the star men in their burial procession in the sky reached
the low northern horizon, before the center fires within the teepees
had flickered out.
The ringing laughter, which had floated up through the smoke lapels,
was now hushed, and only the distant howling of wolves broke the quiet
of the village.
But the lull between midnight and dawn was short indeed. Very early
the oval-shaped door-flaps were thrust aside and many brown faces
peered out of the wigwams toward the top of the highest bluff.
Now the sun rose up out of the east. The red painted avenger stood
ready within the camp ground for the flying of the red eagle. He
appeared, that terrible bird! He hovered over the round village as if
he could pounce down upon it and devour the whole tribe.
When the first arrow shot up into the sky the anxious watchers thrust
a hand quickly over their half-uttered "hinnu!" The second and the
third arrows flew upward but missed by a wide space the red eagle
soaring with lazy indifference over the little man with the long bow.
All his arrows he spent in vain.
"Ah! my blanket brushed my elbow and shifted the course of my arrow!"
said the stranger as the people gathered around him.
During this happening, a woman on horseback halted her pony at the
chieftain's teepee. It was no other than a young woman who cut loose a
tree-bound captive!
While she told the story the chieftain listened with downcast face.
"I passed him on my way. He is near!" she ended.
Indignant at the bold impostor, the wrathful eyes of the chieftain
snapped fire like red cinders in the night time. His lips were closed.
At length to the woman he said:
"How, you have done me a good deed."
Then with quick decision he gave command to a fleet horseman to meet
the avenger.
"Clothe him in these my best buckskins," said he, pointing to a bundle
within the wigwam.
In the meanwhile strong men seized Iktomi, the bowsman, and dragged
him by his long hair to the hilltop.
There upon a mock-pillared grave they bound him hand and feet.
Grown-ups and children sneered and hooted at Iktomi's disgrace. For a
half-day he lay there, the laughing-stock of the people.
Upon the arrival of the real avenger, Iktomi was released and chased
away beyond the outer limits of the camp ground.
On the following morning at daybreak, peeped the people out of
half-open door-flaps.
There again in the midst of the large camp ground was a man in beaded
buckskins. In his hand was a strong bow and red-tipped arrow. Again
the big red eagle appeared on the edge of the bluff. He plumed his
feathers and flapped his huge wings.
The young man crouched low to the ground. He placed the arrow on the
bow, drawing a poisoned flint for the eagle.
The bird rose into the air. He moved his outspread wings one, two,
three times and lo! the eagle tumbled from the great height and fell
heavily to the earth. An arrow stuck in his breast!
He was dead!
So quick was the hand of the avenger, so sure his sight, that no one
had seen the arrow fly from his long bent bow.
In awe and amazement the village was dumb. And when the avenger,
plucking a red eagle feather, placed it in his black hair, a loud
shout of the people went up to the sky.
Then hither and thither ran singing men and women making a great feast
for the avenger.
Thus he won the beautiful Indian princess who never tired of telling
to her children the story of the big red eagle.
I've read this story many times and known it was about being true to yourself and not pretending to be someone else to gain fame, recognition, or respect. It wasn't until recently I realized how much it applied to me in the realm of my journey and paths I have walked.
I have tried to embody or basically mimic what I have seen others do and shortcut the journey instead of sitting with my drum and rattle and pray and gain my medicine that way.
I accept the name of Red Eagle with humility and shame for the guilt I have in pretending for reasons other than helping others. It wasn't even helping myself, it was so others would think I was something I'm not.
What I have had to realize is that I am enough just being me and if I would get off my butt and do what I am supposed to do, more than the skills I've copied from others will be gifted to me for the good of All.I know when that happens, I won't care who knows or who doesn't know for that won't be an issue. I just have to stop worrying about how I feel I'm behind in some race I think I am in when there is no finish line and only the journey today.
I know there is more but I promised I would write this up today, so here it is.
I give great thanks to my spiritual brothers and sisters that have stood beside me in love all these years.
I've used that name for nearly twenty years. It was as much a part of me as my own breath. Under that name I've made social kings of paupers, and paupers out of kings. I have hidden myself in the shadows and basked in the light of glory.
Nightshade.
The pen name my book is published under.
When I was at a funeral service, well more properly, a celebration of life, I sat there and a new name was whispered in my ear...
Midnite.
The time that hangs between the cresting moon and crowning sun. The equal and opposite to high noon.
Hanging forever in the twilight between dusk and dawn, darkness and light.
The comparison for what I'm going through and the character Papa Midnite from the 2005 movie Constantine is rather close. Riding that thin line between darkness and light, balanced on a knife's edge with arms stretched deeply into the worlds of both darkness and light, immersed in the duality of pain and pleasure, heaven and hell, healing and destroying.
I have struggled on both sides of that line all my life telling myself that there is no grey area and that it's all either good or bad, light or dark. However, even though I knew better from legend, lore, and experience, it was still something that I refused to understand.
I am nature. Nature is neither good nor evil, it is nature. Nature is the ultimate resident of the twilight state. Nature creates and destroys as nature needs to survive.
You see the wolf kill the rabbit, and the wolf is evil and the rabbit is good. However, if you see the rabbit and it's multitudes destroy a farmer's garden so the farmer and his family have no food, the rabbits are evil. Then the farmer kills and eats the rabbit, now the farmer is evil. No, it is nature and perspective.
Don't judge me if you have a lack of perspective.
I stand at the crossroads, a point in balance and equality, striving to maintain balance.
Tattooed on my chest is the crossroads, within my heart is the medicine wheel, yet another crossroads.
So as I now embark on this new adventure within, expect and accept changes. It's time for me to peel back the layers of the onion (or the parfait) and see what lies at the heart.
Last night I went in my mind to one of the memorable spots in the Seattle area from my 2011 trip. I don't have a great picture of the area but the above illustrates the space and the clear mountain stream I drank from.
I’ll still do a vacation writeup, but this is the
post-vacation post.
So I snapped in anger (more like frustration) for the first
time in ages last night. It’s been quite a few years since that happened. I
regret it happening and it was only words, but words can still hurt.
I was focusing so hard on trying to regain control of my
life and my own personal power that I ended up getting mad at anything that was
taking my power of personal choice away. What I should have been focusing on
was finding that power and control within myself and then selectively doing
things for others in a compassionate manner, but in my own time.Instead, I saw anything that would be an
external force grabbing at me and tearing me into pieces. I guess that’s a part
of control as well. Learning when to say no.
I feel I do so much for so many between giving rides,
conversation, making sure everyone around me is comfortable, and as a result,
it stresses me out. I can see this concern for others comes from my
Grandmother, but she did what she did out of love. I still do what I do for the
most part out of a sense of duty.
I know there were other factors surrounding this blowup. The
feeling of needing to conform to the expected social norms of Tulsa weighed
heavily on me. Yes, I know, by the standards of most people reading this, I’m
quite the social conformist. What you may not realize is that me wearing
certain jewelry, or my hat with its cowrie shells and wolf teeth can cause me a
bit of stress to even put on and leave the house wearing here in Tulsa. I know
that’s a far cry from rainbow coloredbeards
or all black clothing, but for someone who would rather conform and be
invisible in society to be taking on the mantle that has been placed before me,
it’s quite a tough thing. Even now, for
comfort I’ve already taken off my rings and bracelet and am about to take off
my necklace. It’s like these things scratch at me as to remind me of another
life, another way of living while I’m trying to control my work environment and
come up with solutions to issues. I should count myself fortunate for these
reminders instead of casting them aside.
My stomach tightens as I overhear other conversations and
have to redirect those solutions to achieve the desired result.Then there’s laughter over reminding someone
what their schedule usually is so they call their girlfriend and discover they
are supposed to take them to college at lunch when they had made other plans.
Damn, hard work keeping people out of trouble.
A little chuckle and all is right with the world again.
I don’t know what the answer is here, and perhaps it’s just
the vacation hangover. Every time I come back, I try to hold on to that person
I was on vacation and it seems every time, I fail. Is it location or the need
to get back to work? Or is it the lifestyle I have chosen and the environment
where change would be noticed and fear of having to explain that change?
Like the number of licks to get to the middle of a tootsie
roll pop, perhaps the world will never know.
I have always been under the impression that humility meant not having pride in yourself.
This results in relying on others to tell them how proud they are of you or how great something is that you have done.
The reality I'm struggling with now is that humility is actually having great pride in yourself, but not needing to advertise that pride. Relying on self to find joy and bliss without needing to have another give these gifts to you.
I'm not sure how I have had these backwards all these years, but it cuts to the core of many issues including codependency issues.
Nope, not a post about a relationship, just my new chicken enchilada soup recipe. This was the third time I've made it and I think I hit the jackpot.
I have a large crock pot. If you have a smaller one, use half the enchilada sauce and half the cheese.
2 large cans mild enchilada sauce
1 regular can hot enchilada sauce
1 can Rotel
1 can Campbell's Cream of Chicken Soup
1 can pinto beans (rinsed to get rid of the sudsy stuff)
1 block regular Velveeta cheese
1 supermarket pre-cooked rotisserie chicken.
Empty everything except Velveeta and chicken into crock pot
Use a whisk and carefully mix up everything. If you don't do it this way, the cream of chicken soup will stay as little globs.
Shred all chicken white meat with fork and toss shreds into pot.
Slice Velveeta cheese into quarters, then slice into half inch blocks, stir into pot.
Put crock pot on fast cook 4 hours or low cook 8 hours.
At 2 hours in, take whisk to soup again CAREFULLY! Mix until all smooth. If you splash yourself at this stage, it will be like molten lava, especially the chunks of cheese.
At 3 hours, stir every 15 minutes or it will burn on the sides (yah, skipped that step, but it survived with little damage.)
Toppings:
1 spoonful of sour cream
Shredded Colby jack cheese
White corn tortillas toasted and sliced into strips.
To preface this Dream, I was watching Iron Man 2 last night while doing some work and also on Pawn Stars, someone tried to sell them a jet. The relevance will be come obvious.
So, I was Dreaming and I found myself in a situation, not sure what was going on but I walked into this jet that was big enough for commercial travel, more the size of a stealth fighter, but white and had a few luxury leather seats. Everything was white inside except for the tan leather seats.
I looked down and noticed I had my Iron Man briefcase suit with me since I realized I would be going back before I created the technology, but I wasn't thinking I was Tony Stark, I was just me.
The flight attendants told us we would be going back to 1986 and we had very limited time to talk to our younger selves.
After we jumped back to 1986, it was easy to locate my younger self. I sat down and talked to him (I was 12 in 1986.) What did I say? Well, of course I told him some women to avoid. Cautioned him on a few women to get involved with especially gave him knowledge of the three ex-wives I have. I told him he would just have to use his best judgement at the time. There was one specific event I warned him to avoid at all costs (but I won't go into that here.)
I then checked my watch and realized the time window was close. I tried to locate the ship but it wasn't around. Then I was told that at the proper time, I would fade out of that consciousness and into the consciousness of the "me" that would be back at the time I left. My first alarm went off and I quickly swiped it off, knowing I wasn't fully integrated back into this timeline. When my 2nd alarm went off I woke up and looked around. I felt something important had changed. Was it external? No, my environment seemed the same. there may be something but I feel something has changed internally.
Obviously my younger self didn't listen when I said to take it easy on the pizza and milkshakes, nothing has changed there. :D
Any responsible blogger wouldn't post about time travel without a nod to
the greatest time travel trilogy of the 80's. (Especially since my
dream destination was 1986.)
As I was falling asleep, I thought about the drum that my brother made for me and gifted me as a surprise many years ago. I then thought about the rattle he made for me as a surprise gift this past year. I then saw the pipe he has been called by Spirit to craft for me. A gift and responsibility I did not ask for, but will accept with honor.
I have many concerns about carrying this pipe. As I slipped off to dream I asked for clarity and assistance. The following was the Dream I was given.
I sat in a sweat lodge with a few other people. One man leading it I recognized. I don't think it was this man, but he is one I respect and would know about such things.
I sat cross legged in this sweat lodge. A tough thing for someone a bit claustrophobic to do and with the steam, I started to have an attack. I remembered why I was there and relaxed into my purpose and the pipe I was holding.
"May I please see your pipe?" the leader asked. Hesitantly, I held it out to him and the pipe reassured me that everything would be fine and I was not turning it over to him.
The leader then put the pipe in the coals at the center. I was worried for the stem is a very special wood and crafted by a Cherokee elder stem maker. I again was told not to worry. The pipe and stem took on the char that wood gets after it has been roasted in a fire. Concern held me over the possible loss of this item, I was then consoled by a voice that told me that it could not be destroyed or harmed in any way, and a picture of it flashed into my head of the stem and bowl alive with white light.
I took the pipe by the bowl out of the hot stones and held it for a moment and the char traveled over my body so I was now burnt and charred as the pipe was. A flash of light exploded from the pipe and it was untouched but I became dust and spirit. My spirit floated into the bowl and into the pipe.
I became the pipe as seven Elders passed it around as I sang a song in a language I do not know. As it passed the seventh, I became the smoke drifting up to the Great Spirit. I became a prayer.
I floated up and saw a giant buffalo made of solid clouds standing in the clouds. I knew I was a prayer for rain. The Great Buffalo bowed it's head in respect for the prayer and stomped it's mighty hooves bringing thunder and rain as prayed for. The scene switched and jumped back a moment in time.
I was now the Great Buffalo watching the prayers rise up to the clouds. I bowed my mighty head and stomped my mighty hooves calling in the thunder and the rains. I then became the rains falling down to the land.
As rain, I landed on the plants and then became the plants. I grew and saw a few of my leaves harvested and taken into the sweat lodge where I as the leaves was put into the pipe, lit and smoked to become prayers.
I experienced oneness and the cycle of life and prayer. No, I was oneness and the cycle of life and prayer for the "I" ceased to exist except through consciousness when my body was turned to ash and my spirit became the pipe.
I still have a few concerns, however I am confident that this source of guidance shall not fail me.
Spirit chose to bring the task of pipe building to my Brother, and he is doing it in a sacred manner with materials from the proper sources and the proper respect. Spirit gave him the vision that one should come to my hands and it has taken me almost four years to accept it.
I know this will only be the first of many dreams. (I guess I should hurry up and get my pipe bag sewn together.)
So the calendar year has run its course and time has come to start a new calendar. Another turning of the wheel.
I have done many things I am not proud of this year.
At this time, I ask for forgiveness from those I have wronged. Through comments made in jest that one may have found hurtful, failed relationships where I was at least 50% at fault, and times where I may have hurt someone unknowingly but they still remember whole I have forgotten, I ask for forgiveness in all these.
I had to put 5 people out of work this year. (I'm not sure where the 7 count came from that I posted on Facebook. Perhaps I cost two others their jobs other places I did not know about.) the choice was mine to allow them to pass on through to save the jobs of 6 others. the responsibility to the company was mine to attempt to deny them unemployment benefits.
More than anything, I ask for forgiveness from myself. To allow the past to rest and lead the way into the present.
This past year I have gained many friendships and had peaceful family holiday dinners for the first time in ages.
I laid to rest two friends, there may have been more so please forgive me if I didn't recall anyone close passing before October. May they find their peace in whatever comes next, even if that is oblivion.
For years, my focus was being loud and in charge. Be prominent and popular, heavy handed and solid. I put my foot down and it didn't move.
Tonight, I found the value in being but a whisper. In being invisible, one can accomplish all their goals without obstruction since there is nothing there for people to fight against.
Last night I cleared out a towering façade from inside myself. What was left was nothing but light.
The wind floats through the trees and around the mountains as a gentle breeze. Ad a storm gale, it meets opposition and is churned into chaos and destruction.
Some of my friends that are tied to self esteem and worshiping the ego may chastise this, but when the hammers fall in life, if there is nothing to hit, then who is the greater?
I read a few years back that the problem with Eastern thought in the Western World is that most Westerners try to understand Eastern philosophy from a Western perspective. Here in the West, we take pride in the achievements of work, over there, they take pride in the work itself. We see power, money, and strength as signs of superiority. (Just look at the sports areas. Multi million dollar contracts for someone to carry a pigskin ball while there are homeless starving in the streets outside the stadium.)
The current priorities of Western man are all screwed up. We view life as a board game. Who has the best pieces, the most money, the biggest house.
Why does someone need millions of dollars? If I won a million dollars (after taxes) I would buy a modest home in a modest neighborhood and decide what I would do for the purpose of enjoying life. I could work a job just for fun, donate my time, spend days working in a garden or learning about things I have always wanted to study. I would not need a flashy car or diamond rings or a trophy wife. (Ok, maybe a small trophy.) :D
Anyhow, I digress. I know I can slightly modify my life now and accomplish many of these things. I just have to decide what my goals my be and follow them.
The deciding is the hardest part in an unlimited universe.
Happy New Wheel Turning everyone.
One final thing... Happy Birthday to my departed Brother that came to me this morning upon waking and filled my head with memories of our time together only for me to recall a bit later that today was his birthday.
This is actually monumental since in 2003 when he passed, I sealed off an area of my psychic abilities. This was made firm that November when my Grandmother passed and I went into a 3 year depression. The fact that he was able to come to me this morning brings great joy to my heart!
Tonight I shall go on a dream journey to awaken an old friend of mine.
As yourself, who were your childhood heroes? To whom did you cling to in times of trouble, and who did you play with in times of joy? Was it a Ninja Turtle? A colorful pony? A bear with a symbol on its tummy? A transforming robot? Perhaps a small blue guy that lived in a mushroom? Or perhaps, it all started with a mouse.
When did you "leave behind childish things" to embrace something new like driving, dating, sex, work, all the "trappings of the real/adult life"? ... Now, when did you feel the emptiness that has lead you to the sadness that peaks forth into your daily life? The idle time when you would have played with your friends in younger years?
Perhaps there is an old friend waiting there for you too? There is a reason all of these things from our childhoods are now making a comeback. It is the timeless factor and that the men and women in charge feel a longing to play with their old friends again. The wheel has spun around so our generation can bring the dreams to the present generation.
How can it be done? you ask... Simply sit still, breathe, and journey back in your mind to your playtime with your friend. Talk to them the way you did at that age. Feel no shame for acting foolish, for that shame is what has banished these friends to the netherworld, the 'land of forgotten toys.' Play with them once again and simply invite them to play with you in this time.
Honor them by finding their likeness in a new or used toy and keep it handy. Perhaps on your desk, in the kitchen, etc. If you have children and they see the toy, allow them to play with it and even more important, tell them of all your adventures with this friend when you were their age.
Come out, come out, wherever you are... it's time to play again.
(Forgive mistypings, it's hard to type through the tears of joy and remembrance.)
*Note* I realize that Master Po is a fictional character, but can we not find these characters as traits within ourselves?
I was standing in the shower thinking about my various gifts in the technology field. My skills and gut instinct that lead me to finding simple solutions on a guess that have confounded other's knowledge.
I thought to myself: "I am glad to have these gifts, but is there not more that I may impart? Like teaching the spiritual matters on my path in that way?"
Then I heard the voice: (Master Po) "Of what would you teach?"
Me: "The path that I follow and the lessons I have learned."
Master Po: "Why do you desire to teach it?"
Me: "To help others find peace and happiness."
Master Po: "Has what you desire to teach brought you peace and happiness?"
Me (after thinking): "No, it has not."
Master Po: "One should first strive to find his own path to peace and happiness before trying to teach it to others."
Me: "True"
I know this was just an internal monologue, but it hit me as quite profound.
The thoughts that preceded this internal exchange were of my troubles with oracles such as pendulums and the new fad of table tipping. I don't know enough of table tipping to comment, so I shall reserve judgment on that and not speak ill of it since I have not experienced it directly.
On pendulums, I was thinking of where I might find a stationary stand to assist in divination. Whenever someone uses a pendulum and claims to be using it for divining, I watch both the pendulum and their hand and fingers. If the hand and/or fingers sway, it's a good indication that the holder has influenced the swing. Most pendulums are not heavy enough to move the hand as it swings. It is tough for me when I see this happening with people I trust. when I do readings or healings for others with a pendulum, I tell my guests to make not that my hand and fingers never move, adding validity to the reading.
Yes, I look for this in an attempt to not be fooled or led / influenced unduly. Yes, this does point to trust issues. It is easy enough for one to just accept that all people will tell the truth, and to trust first until there is cause to not trust. However, when one has become jaded to this from being surrounded by people one should be able to trust, friends, relatives, mentors, that have been exposed to have the same fallacies as liars and thieves, it causes undesirable changes like the hardening of the heart.
Does that mean I have kept bad company in the past? Yes, mostly. However, I have tried to be among like minded people, without having their compulsion for deceit, and thus it has made me an outcast from even society's outcasts.
I have found some kind, like minded souls that can be trusted on my journey, and I treasure them.
I need to shake off everyone's expectations of me and seek out happiness. I believe that was one of the reasons I got my forearm tattoo. It has been complimented on by everyone I have met, even our company president. A symbolic movement to try to assure me that following my heart will not lead me astray.
One thing I noticed that I have never realized before...
There is another "Master" Po that teaches us in the present to embrace who we are, and thus this is the way to ourselves, the inner Dragon Warrior.
Yes, yes, when you realize who this is about, you'll say the title isn't appropriate since he loved looking like an incarnation of evil.
There was an old joke between him and I that he was "the good twin" since back when he was interested in mysticism, he mainly stuck to practices involving Archangels and gnosticism, whereas I was a bit more liberal in my studies and practices.
Much respect in honor of my old friend, Jonathan Morris. He was known by many names depending on where you met him. DJLotek, doombuggy, etc.
Jon passed away on Christmas Eve. It is said he passed in his sleep.
Everyone I've told (or almost everyone) has asked "how did he die?" I'll take a page from The Last Samurai and pose the question to "ask me how he lived."
Some of my best memories of Jon:
He could always tell a good, plausible story and you were generally laughing so hard at the end due to the imagery presented that you didn't care to question.
My favorite story he used to tell was of a time when he had gotten in from clubbing in the wee hours of the morning and went right to bed without washing off the face paint he had worn to the club. He had slept only a few hours until he heard a man's voice coming from the living room. He lived with his grandmother and his grandfather had passed some years before. Thinking something was wrong he came storming out of the back room, black spiky hair, messed up white facepaint, in only his boxers. His grandmother had worked for ORU for years at this point. As the story goes, Jon comes storming out into the living room to encounter Oral Roberts wearing an expression like Satan himself had just appeared in the room. Jon concludes the story by saying Oral Roberts left the house soon after he returned to bed and was never seen there again.
We would go to Casa Bonita. I would eat 2 plates of food, Jon would eat generally 4. The waitresses never complained, just stared in shock. Jon also loved Pancho's Mexican food. The people at Pancho's hated him though since he would continually send them back for more food. You don't bring a 6'9" 300+ lb guy one single taco when he says he wants more. :-)
Many people didn't see him emotional (other than enraged while finding themselves tossed out of a club Jon was bouncing at.) When his grandmother passed, it was plain to see how large his heart really was.
I loved messing with him. It's not often you can tease a giant and get away with it. But he did teach me that no matter the stature, a person is a person. People would ask him "hey, do you play basketball?" He would look down at them and say "no, do you play miniature golf?" Generally people wouldn't get it.
When we were roomates, one time I warned him that I would play 'Night on Bald Mountain' whenever I needed to get my mind in a space to do powerful rituals. Generally ones to induce change. Well, one night I came home and turned on the stereo in the bedroom. I had intended on listening to the Beastie Boys, but obviously I had the wrong tape in the deck. So, yup, 'Night on Bald Mountain' came blaring out of the stereo. Then from the living room I heard this roar of 'OH SHIT!" then things being knocked over, the door slamming, and his car screeching away. I laughed my ass off. It helped bring about change for sure, the rest of the night I was in the best mood.
During this time we found a baby kitten in the parking lot of the apartment and Jon took him in. For some reason, I was never allergic to this kitten and it was fun to have around. To see Jon laying on his bed listening to music with this tiny puffball perched on his shoulder was something special.
Then he met Jennifer and he was hooked. I couldn't get him to shut up about her to focus on anything else. The giant was in love and stayed that way until the end. :) We could all be so lucky.
So, in closing, Jon was a guy who loved life despite all his pain from his size and loved to help people. He was gruff at times, but always had the best of intentions.
I'd pour beer on the curb for my fallen homie, but due to his size, only a keg would be fitting and I can't lift that much.
(I know I've left out a lot of good memories, as they come to me, I'll update this.)
I don't know who this is for, and that doesn't really matter. A friend is trying to help out a friend so any bit that you can donate will help out. You may even directly help save someone's life.
I know I have a bunch of readers, so please try to donate something if you've enjoyed my blog even a little. The money doesn't go to me, it goes to a great cause.
A very dear friend of mine needs some help. In her own words:
"I know this is a shot in the dark but I thought I'd put it out there. As may of you are well aware I've been struggling with alcoholism for quite some time. Sometimes better than others; lately not so much. Things have come to a head and I'm ready to get some serious help.
I've been accepted into a long term recovery program that I should be at from 6 months to a year or more. It's an excellent facility where residents go through intensive treatment and also find jobs to pay their rent during their stay. The only problem is they require $650 up front, to pay for the first month's rent and deposit to cover while residents find jobs in the area."
She's asked her friends to contribute anything they can. Being of limited means myself, I thought the best way I could help would be to get her message to as many of my friends as is possible. I don't usually like asking people for money, even on behalf of a good cause, but this is genuinely personal to me. If there's anything you can contribute, even just a dollar or two, it would help.
I've set a very short deadline on this so that I can get whatever I'm able to raise to her as quickly as possible. 100% of all funds raised will be going directly to her. I know it may be asking a lot, but please, donate if you can, and help spread the word.
This entry is both an apology to my friends and to myself.
I'm not sure why I am so hard on myself.
No one ever asked me to be any more than I am, I just have that expectation of myself.
Nobody says I should be this way or that way, I look at people I admire and want to emulate the best parts of them.
"know thyself" "be yourself" these phrases are tough for me to embody. I have taken on so many traits of others, cultural items, speech, mannerisms, etc. that stripping that all away to just see who and what I am is a difficult thing. I find only emptiness.
This is probably partly because I haven't found a lot of joy in life.
Tonight I went through a drive through for dinner on a hunch and made the gal at the window laugh. She smiled and stumbled over her words after that and I could see in her eyes that I made her day. It looked like she had a ring of some sort on her left hand, and I respect boundaries, so I didn't inquire or give my number. It was also a bit of an experiment in me being genuinely open and friendly where work wasn't involved. (Yes, I know it's a stretch to imagine that I am shy but I'm a bit of a different person through written mediums than in person. You may have noticed this if you see me in a club. I'm usually talking to one or two friends and just smile at people I don't know really well.)
Anyhow, back to the apologies to myself.
Nobody asked me to live a monastic existence. I am overly judgmental of myself in that respect.
I have a gift coming my way when it is finished that I both fear and respect. I have ripped myself apart for years knowing it was coming and trying to live up to some expectation that was only set by myself and never asked for me to reach. If I wasn't supposed to have it, it wouldn't be in production. I'm not going to speak too much on this, all will be revealed if it should be in time.
I do have an apology for my friends. I'm genuinely sorry for any sarcastic posts that made you feel bad about yourself, even for an instant. I haven't been the best person at times but I can be a nicer person.
I'm sure there is more to say, but if you have gone back and read my journal entries here over the past week, I'm sure you can see the hell I just put myself through.
The only things I can promise are to try to be nicer to myself, and to try to not be afraid of people and get out and be nice and friendly to earn more friendships.
I don't know what the future holds, but I guess the only thing I can do is just experience one day to the next and do it with a free spirit and open soul.
If not, then I might as well not use this gift of life.
And no, none of this has anything to do with a woman or broken heart.
This song is my message to myself, what do I have to do to make you love me again like I deserve?
This blog is good for a few things. One of which must be making myself sound insane. I guess that might be useful in the future if I ever need to be committed for any reason.
I can't believe I actually have the outlook some times that removing things I enjoy from my life is actually a beneficial thing. We only go around once and so I see no reason why sometimes I think abstaining from things is an answer to happiness.
I am who I am, I can't deny myself that.
Guess I better start having fun and acting like it or I shall die old and alone as I fear.
Woke up
Got a text from my healer friend cautioning me to rest today since I still felt I got run over.
At this point what I should have done was lay around, read, watch movies, run out for something halfway healthy or make something at home, perhaps picked up a few more movies and just relaxed.
(Author's note, I'm a dumbass sometimes)
What I actually did.
Showered and got dressed
went to PetsMart to look at adoptadogs
got real hungry but instead of going to eat when I needed when I was by a Panera Bread....
went downtown to look at more adoptadogs
got a big pizza and brought it home
Watched 2.5 Adam Sandler movies and one not Adam Sandler
Took a nap during one of them
Ate last night's leftovers (baked potato, cheese fries, Caesar salad)
Watched a bit more of a movie
got in car, went to casino
Yes, now at this point, you may be asking yourself "where the hell did this come from" well, I was asking myself that too...
Spent 2 hours in the casino and threw away an undisclosed sum. Never going to that casino again, if I do, it won't be to play.
Drove home thinking about what I had done all day and the money I lost, not in a negative way, just in a factual way.
Finished half a movie, finished off the last two slices of the 20" pizza I bought and decided to type this up.
So, a few changes I am making in light of today and my new chance at life I have been given over these past few days.
No more casino gambling. (I hardly ever go, but I could have bought food for meals for a week or so on what I put in to play and smell like smoke.)
No more dining out until I eat the food I have at the house. (Yes, that includes the slab of bacon and bag of chicken tenders I got from the Blue and Gold fund raiser. BLT's are good eatin!) *Note that this doesn't apply to lunch, I have to get out of the shop or I'll go nuts.*
Ok, go further nuts.
No more crap food. No more Sonic, Arby's, etc. I can make better at home for less. (goes along with the no dining out rule. The exception to that rule being if I go out to eat with friends on those rare occasions.)
Minimal red meat. I'm not really used to eating a lot of it, so this shouldn't be a problem.
Minimal carbs. Now this will be a problem. However, thin crust pizza instead of regular, whole grain bread or tortillas instead of big hunks of bread, salads at Lenny's instead of the same thing on a bun. This also applies to greasy foods.
Sushi, ok, fuck that, I'm not cutting out sushi. Cutting back a bit on the amount I eat since I take it from being a healthy meal to being a gorge worse than me at a Chinese buffet. (Just thank god Casa Bonita isn't still open, I could totally kill off a mess of those cheese enchiladas and sopapillas.)
Alcohol: No more. I'm done with it. Too many headaches and pains with all the drinking leading up to Halloween. I may have one glass of wine at Thanksgiving if my parents even have Thanksgiving at their house this year, but aside from that, I'm done with alcohol.
Sex... yup, tried going cold turkey before (wait, that's a terrible visual, sex and cold turkey... but you know there's a website somewhere...sigh, I digress) Anyhow... I'm tired of disrespecting myself and having sex too soon with someone or just having a relationship (or one night stand) solely based on sex. So, new rule, that's going to be my Christmas present to myself (if I can find a partner, even if I have to go back to my "always down for it" list.) Hopefully I'll be in a relationship with someone I love, trust, and respect by then. If not, then at least I will have been true to myself.
So, 52 days without sex. I know some of you readers are thinking "wow, so what, I go six months or more without sex" well, I usually don't. so however that makes me look, then I'm sorry. We all have needs and desires, I just don't mind filling those needs and desires. Yup, take that visual.
Ah, also, if you subscribe to this blog, you get email updates. Nobody has done so thus far, but that's how it works.
Reality check:
Do I really think I can accomplish all that? Well, tomorrow will be day 1. I may fail at some of it right out of the gate. If I falter, then I'll start back up again. That's the only way it can happen.
Yes, I'm really keeping my FaceBook account deleted. So, if there's anything going on, then please sent me an email for events in the Tulsa area.
Things I'd like to try:
Piano lessons
Dance lessons
Making my own soup
Being happy all day, just for one day (may mean taking the day off)
Turning my phone off for an entire day
Driving to the mountains in Eastern Oklahoma
Speed dating (just once, you never know)
Ok, that's long enough for this blog. I know I've gotten some unexpected readers and some voices from the past saying hi unexpectedly. It's all welcome. Feel free to share my blog on your social networking pages. Who knows, it might help someone.
I fear I may have to start writing again. I could always write about my last year of the journey through hell. Don't want to look at it yet though. I think I'm in too fragile of a state presently to reflect back. I'm afraid I will pull too much into the present.
