Friday, December 21, 2012

Yule Blessings

Frigga photo credit:
http://goddessofthemonth.
mystaiofthemoon.com/frigga.html
Happy Winter Solstice, all! 

May the Great Mother gahdess Frigga provide us with blessings of comforting warmth in times of cold, rejuvenating rest in times of exhaustion, introspective and grounded thought in times of distress, and mostly importantly, may she birth for us a guiding light in times of dark winter evenings.

May our hope and faith in the rebirth of spring not falter along our wintry paths, and may we use this time of quiet darkness as a welcome opportunity to heal, grow gently, and restore ourselves in preparation of the upcoming season of new beginnings. May we care-fully cradle the seeds we plant in our time of hibernation, so that they provide us with healthy shade under Eostre's guiding hand when the vernal equinox turns.

May peace be with us all as we approach the upcoming shift, and may we experience the transition gently and with universal compassion for ourselves and for one another.  May our hearts guide our paths into the new age, for the benefit of all beings.



Wednesday, December 19, 2012

Cistus

"Come, come, whoever you are.
Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving. It doesn't matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times.
Come, yet again, come, come.”

― Rumi
I spent last week in a state of total mess.

Monday I spent in a daze. Tuesday crying.  Wednesday angry. Thursday I spent madly bouncing between anger, sadness, guilt, and a deep despairing emptiness. Friday, I spent my last energy reserves confessing previously unspoken love, before I fell asleep, exhausted, for 11 hours.

-----------------
In a sudden twist, I JUST REALIZED THAT EVERYTHING ROBERT SMITH SAID HAS COME TRUE!

Monday, fell apart.
Tuesday, Wednesday, broken heart.
Thursday, didn't even start. Moped around all day.
Friday, in love.
------------------

I muscle tested for an essential oil called cistus in my session at Upward Spiral Therapy with Nyssa yesterday. I never cease to be amazed at how accurately my body is able to determine just what aroma I need to breathe in while Nyssa adjusts my mind.  Cistus (or Rose of Sharon), it turns out, helps facilitate a move from "shocked" to "restored."

Shocked is a good word for what I've been the past week.  Shocked at the experience of the first broken heart of my entire adult life. Shocked emotionally. Shocked physically.  A broken heart is he most shocking thing one could ever experience, and I suddenly get it.  I get the cliches, I get the melodrama... I get all of it. You can hear people talk about a broken heart all day, but until you experience it, all the talk in the world adds up to a big pile of empty jabber.

During the cranial session yesterday, Nyssa bent the left side of my brain and, simultaneously, I fell into the familiar swirling dark and rose up into a mindful expansion.  People pop in and out of my mind's eye when she works on me, but yesterday I mostly saw... myself.  I breathed in deeply from the tissue dotted with the warm and comforting aroma of cistus oil and I thought about these things:  

{Why would I choose to fall in love with someone completely inaccessible?  I chose to be my most vulnerable with the person who was least accessible. And my reward was a shattered heart. Thank you, spirit, for the pieces of my heart... for allowing me to experience the process of being tenderly ripped and brought, un-breathing, to my knees. For allowing me to know this, to cultivate empathy. To recognize that my greatest comfort is in my perpetual and final rejection.}

She finished her work and left the room with a "Take your time, darlin," and I laid on the table and vibrated for a few moments.  My arms had lost feeling in them and my legs were tense.  I opened my eyes and released, and I was done.

I left Upward Spiral and walked to my truck.  And suddenly everything seemed so silly. Being in love with the inaccessible seemed silly.  Maybe I've hit the "indifference" stage. Or maybe I'm just ready for something real. Maybe this was my greatest lesson in vulnerability... the lesson I tried so hard to learn with D.

Thank you, thank you, for this progressive restoration out of a shocked broken-ness.

Sunday, December 9, 2012

Brew Yr Own

Sometimes I sit in my bed at 2 a.m. and have so much stuff
floating around in my head that I can't actually even write
it down.  So I scribble some disconnected, nonsensical
notes and post them here.
-M
D told me yesterday that I had been mean to him.

Am I mean?  That is so upsetting.

K's reply to this sentiment was that I wasn't mean -- I just know what I want, and whenever I make my mind up, it is really clear that my mind is made up.

I mean, of course I like K's explanation better.  I don't like to think I'm mean.  Maybe I'm mean and I don't always realize it.  Which might be worse than being intentionally mean, I don't know.  I'm too tired right now to decide which is worse. 

I actually bite my tongue a lot.  Like... a fucking lot. I guess I can either keep biting my tongue and be considered mean, or I can start calling people out on their shit all the time and, well, be considered mean.  (Hey P.S. this wouldn't actually be a concern if I had a dick).

On a somewhat related note -- Hey guys, when you make a sexist remark and then someone calls you out on it and your response is "It was a joke, take it easy!" then you look a lot like an asshole.  Mostly because it wasn't actually a joke. At least own your sexism instead of saying that you were just "making a joke."

And finally.  It's not that I'm planning on showing you up... but I'm totally going to show you up. *shrugs*