Category: Life Commentaries

Lessons And Awakenings Of Life

DEAR READER: PUBLIC SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: SELF-HELP WANTED

Hello, Everyone.

I was in the middle of writing part 2 of my haunted house post when I paused to text a sister/friend who I have been guiding through an experience. It started and ended as a flow of downloaded wisdom from The Universe. It came through uninterrupted (she’s at work so she did not check her phone as it was being sent) as it was supposed to.

I share it here because I feel there to be those who are in need of it. I did not bother to edit it. Each word, as it is written, carries its own vibration and will resonate as is with those who are in need of them.

My other reason for sharing it here is because it is a representation of who I am and what I practice. My main occupation is keeping myself open, aligned, and connected with my inner being (spirit) for the betterment of self and the guidance of others.

∞∞∞∞∞

Do you know what it’s like to not be able to breathe, or have a pain so bad that you become delirious?
That feeling of grasping at any and every to help relieve you, to ease your discomfort, the desperate wanting for better…
That is how I feel these two to be right now. There are things which they are going through which no one knows about, probably more deep down which they are not aware of yet either.
I believe in the connection which we all share. I believe all experiences are for the purpose multiple journeys, not just one. There is a ripple effect for every choice which is made by every being. We all feel those waves at some point, be it instantly or at some point down the road.
I’m sharing this with you to give you a different perspective of what is happening here, what this escalation is about.
Remember that well-being is for all and is available and accessible for all. Each person will arrive at the receiving point when they are ready. And being ready is about being in the remembrance of worthiness at all times no matter what.
I’m sure there is more to add to this but for right now, the flow of the download has ebbed.😏

(My body is tweaking like an addict to edit this! I have resisted the urge, obviously, but now I must go organize something. Haha.)

DEAR READER: I DON’T WANT TO LIVE IN A HAUNTED HOUSE – PT.1

0ff7a4f4e9efb13b4bb3f1b2d51a2de7--haunted-houses-picture-quotesHopefully, I will be consistent with the ‘series’ aspect which I have now tagged these posts as suggested by the title. I despise not finishing what I start. Well, considering I have countless evidence of this habit, perhaps “despise” is too strong of a word; otherwise, I would have them all finished, right?

Yeah, I should work on my being a bit dramatic habit too.

Disclaimer time. Dear blog people, whenever you don’t find me here for quite some time, I am away in a far away land called, “Here’s Some More Shit I Bet You Didn’t Know About Yourself.” There is where I am getting my ass shown to me by way of a panoramic unbreakable plexiglass mirror( I’m sure you can figure out why it is unbreakable).

So like many of us who travel outside of our comfortable homes for more pleasurable outings, I come back with more packed in my luggage.

I have returned, as usual, bearing gifts of life lessons learned. These lessons are meant to lighten the burden of self. But since I dislike unpacking and will live out of a suitcase for however long it takes to empty it, I will sit in my shitty adult diaper of procrastination and non-acceptance until some, or all, of my cosmic(dead) friends and family, force me to get cleaned up.

I haven’t been home, here on WordPress, for a bit because my focus changed from writing to house hunting. I kept receiving Universal taps on the shoulder letting me know enough time had passed and that I needed to get down to business.

I do love a lazy raft ride on the stream of procrastination.

The process started off well, but then it took a turn. All these wonderful possibilities outside the scope of my own formulated thoughts started presenting themselves taking me on a high-speed flying carpet ride.

As a person practiced, obsessively, in the art of logic, reason, precision, and coloring inside the lines, this was very unsettling for me; although quite exciting to have new and shiny thoughts to consider, it caused me to wobble on my very taunt tight rope. I’ve calmed down over the years. Trust me.

So, as a result, my focus became more intense, and I sucked myself dry; I used all my reserves for this project. Now I am here ready to share some thoughts, some awarenesses which took this opportunity of house hunting to come out of the shadows.

I will try to share in doses. I was prepared to write all about it in this one post but thought better of it cause you all will probably not want to visit again. I try not to care too much but, I enjoy each and every one of you, and I value the time you take from yourselves to read and comment on my posts.

See you in the comments!

This theme reminded me of The Haunted House movie series. I had to end this post on a funny! This is the type of stupid and ridiculous humor that I enjoy. My life is just as silly when I get all dramatic about it.

Warning: The following movie is rated R.

DEAR READER: I’M ALL SHRINK-ED OUT

I will respond to your comments shortly. My mind and body needed a rest before posting my most recent post (it’s a meditation thing), and now, I will attend to you lovely people at my leisure. I am emotionally drained. I haven’t shared that part of my life in a very long time. I’ve been chipping away at it for some time now.

I’ve noticed that some of your comments are asking questions or, at least in my wordy mind, that will spark lengthy responses. So because I don’t always care to condense, I may respond with a post.

Thank you for your patience and support.

Yours Truly,

Tricia

P.S. I know that is not the name that you see. It is my government name. Haha! I will be changing my Public Display Name to Tricia. So fret not at having to type out that long monstrosity. I’m over it. Tee-Hee!!

DEAR READER: PILL

I know that the subject of mental health/well-being is one most people would rather not highlight, but in light of what has been happening lately, I felt it important to address.

Another famous person chose to end his life yesterday. While I do not have any fears associated with death, when I become aware that someone has left this world via suicide, it hurts. It hurts because suicide is, and this is the best way I can put words to this, such a my-back-is-against-the-wall-with-no-way-out type of mental anguish. A person who chooses suicide is unable to swim against the strong current of thought which has them exhausted with no more will or stamina to fight; this is what saddens me.

The pain and sense of great hopelessness make it extremely difficult to find air, to see light, to feel relief. When the numbing of drugs, no matter legally prescribed or not, lose their salve, the thoughts become liken to bacteria in a hot petri dish, multiplying rapidly.

[Side note: I’m listening to a random playlist from Amazon Music, and as I write this, Prince’s Purple Rain is in the background. My emotions are high, and I have to pause right now. Excuse me.]

Ok, I’m back; back to center.

I had to take a moment to feel. I have learned it is beneficial to embrace and acknowledge such feelings, not to suppress them.
Suppression is, I believe, what leads to the sense of hopelessness and lack of choice. There is always an inception point for these lower vibrational thoughts. It is usually at that time when the work needed for balance is overlooked or resisted.

After a certain age, for some, conditioning begins towards the non-acceptance of unhappy feelings. I believe, as soon as a child approaches puberty, usually the attitude towards the roller-coaster ride of emotions known as the teenage years, are met with sighs of exasperation. Those of us (this is not a generalization) who have survived, not lived but survived, through this evolution into the next, don’t feel to nurture these tender years as it causes much of their carefully planted sadness to resurface.

I too have gone through such turmoil and devastation of the mind. Several times I have attempted to release myself from this physical body. I am still here because my inner voice was way louder and had more endurance than the thoughts from my limited point of view at that time. My struggles came from always feeling an aching desire to have an awareness of self, to nurture what is inside of me.

I grew up in a household where my mother made it her business to tell me repeatedly that children are to be seen and not heard. She also supported that with not wanting to hear about my thoughts of sadness, confusion, or frustration from not being free to explore all I was receiving from within.

I ached for self-assurance.

My mother carried around young adulthood and childhood issues which were always at the surface in need of purging. But she only knew to cover them up in her cloak of fear based anger and co-dependency. She would dismiss me into submission of will to have me take on the role of confidant and counselor, nothing resembling her being the parent and I the child. I became her emotional support and caregiver until she died.

After her death, that is when I was jolted awake to the presence of myself. I was in a state of panic at not being able to articulate who I was or wanted to be. I crippled myself to point of resisting going on job interviews and answering questions about myself. I didn’t have the glue of being, whatever was needed, for everyone else (it wasn’t just my mom, it was my sister and friends as well) holding me together, so I fell apart.

Hard.

I knew what I needed to do for me, what it was to put me back together again but had no sight for it. I felt it strongly; it pulled at me. But I couldn’t see where to begin, what tools to use, nothing; I was groping around in the dark frustrated and mad as hell.

Through years of self-help, and the birth of two children, the path became clear and streamlined; I trusted the feeling more and the conditioning less.

For the sake of not going on and on with my story, I will return to why I started this post.
The Daily Prompt word ‘lollipop’ sparked all of this verbiage. I didn’t want to go the obvious route of talking about candy and phallic symbolism( I was so close to choosing the later. Heh-heh). Once I put that away, the word ‘pill’ popped out from ‘lollipop.’ I immediately thought of Pink!’s Just Like A Pill song.

I came here to blog my interpretation of that song and saw the news about the music artist who passed the night before. For me, that was a sign to write this post. Music and mental wellness brought both experiences together.

I will make this as brief as I can. As I am tired of writing, I am sure you are just as tired of reading, if you’ve gotten this far.

Just Like A Pill, on the surface, seems to be about a romantic relationship being the catalyst for her despair and indulgence in escapism. I agree with the inferred subject being a relationship, but I have always felt the relationship to be between a person’s inner and outer being. In reading the lyrics, I feel this song tells a story of the higher self, the part of us who comforts and keeps us hopeful, trying to break free from the hurt, pain, and confusion its other part is living.

Being away from the feeling of love which resides in us all, I believe, hurts and produces the mental darkness many experience. This song, I feel, is a representation of that. Even if it is about a relationship between two people, the need is the same. We all desire to experience love, for ourselves and from others. When that desire goes unfulfilled, for some, it can be traumatic.

What I have learned for myself is that self-love is the essence of what we are and what we are here to experience. This life is about you through how you feel about yourself  and how that dictates the way you relate to others.

That’s it. I’m not going to talk any more.

I know this is not following writer’s etiquette, but I don’t care. I’ll let the lyrics piece together the rest of the message.

In no way am I making light of suicide or any of the conditions which make it an option.I sincerely empathize because of my shared experience of struggle with thoughts that send you down a dark spiral.Also, I do not pass judgment. I make it a practice to be accepting of other people’s choices. No one but that person knows what he/she desires to experience in this life.

If you have made it to this end, I thank you for taking the time to stay with it.

[Pink]
[Verse 1]
I’m lying here on the floor where you left me
I think I took too much
I’m crying here, what have you done
I thought it would be fun
I can’t stay on your life support
There’s a Shortage in the switch
I can’t stay on your morphine
Cause it’s making me itch
I said I tried to call the nurse again
But shes being a little bitch
I think I’ll get outta here, where I can

[Chorus]
Run just as fast as I can
To the middle of nowhere
To the middle of my frustrated fears
And I swear you’re just like a pill
Instead of making me better
You keep making me ill
You keep making me ill

[Verse 2]
I haven’t moved from the spot where you left me
This must be a bad trip
All of the other pills
They were different
Maybe I should get some help
I can’t stay on your life support
There’s a shortage in the switch
I can’t stay on your morphine
Cause it’s making me itch
I said I tried to call the nurse again
But she’s being a little bitch
I think I’ll get outta here, where I can

[Chorus]

Lyrics to Just Like A Pill copied from Genius.com

[Here is a link to Linkin Park’s lyrics reflecting the lead singer’s internal struggle]

Inspired by The Daily Prompt Word: Lollipop

 

DEAR READER: WHAT DO I LOOK LIKE, YOUR MOTHER?

So I am peaceably having a grand old time yukking it up with the cool people of WordPress when my Sun comes to me to complain about The Moon.

Great. Just Great. I’m in my flow, and these two entities come in disrupting all of that. I peel my eyes away from the computer screen and ask,

“What’s the problem?”

“I don’t know what to do about The Moon.”

“What do you mean?” Oh, God, now what? There’s always something up with this kid. I take a deep breath, preparing for a lengthy interaction. “What’s he doing?”

“How long does he want me to play with him?”

“Huh?” I’m thinking, What the hell? Why is my life being interrupted for this? 

“I’m playing with The Moon, and I want to know for how long?”

She’s standing there looking at me with an air of expectancy, knowing I’m going to give her an answer because I’m supposed to. This child has a mouth, I don’t know why she doesn’t want to use it on him.

I’ll tell you why.

He is a terror when he’s feeling all hurt and neglected and hating his life. Not my interpretation, he tells it himself. This is The Moon’s dramatic perception of how his family treats him.

“How should I know? Why are you asking me? I didn’t tell you to play with him. YOU ask him that question.”

The Sun is ALWAYS working an angle for me to be her mouth piece. And yet, refuses to listen to the words which exit this same mouth when it’s speaking to her about questions she’s asked about or when I am giving her guidance after she’s come to me wanting me to tell her about how she feels when she’s unable to articulate.

Of course, by now The Moon gallops into the room and sits down to listen in. I’m looking at him thinking, This kid. I so don’t want to deal with this and/or him today. I look at The Sun and see the same expression on her face. She doesn’t want to deal with his annoying behind either.

The nerve! The both of them are hanging around waiting for me to get my Solomon sword out and cut the damn baby in half. Ain’t this some shit. I’m here just minding my business, and now I’m in the middle of something that, for once, I did not force them into.

“What? Don’t look at me. You all came in here into my space. This is for you to work out not me. What do I look like, your mother?”

The Sun huffs indignantly and says,

“Well, yeah!”

And I say,

“Not today, I’m not.” “Bye!” “Go away!”

nf-badge-1linerweds-2017

Inspired by Linda G. Hill’s One Liner Wednesday

BEING FLESHY ABOUT MY FLESH

*BEING FLESHY ABOUT MY FLESH*

WHAT IS THIS THING I AM IN? WHAT IS THIS DRAG?
YES.
DRAG IT CAN BE AND IS
RIGHT NOW.

I AM SHOUTING FOR SOMEONE TO HEAR.
WHY MUST I BE IN THIS SKIN THAT I AM IN?

BODY THEY CALL IT.
PLEASE.
EVEN THE NOMENCLATURE SOUNDS OFFENSIVE…
B-ODD-DEE.

IT’S “ODD” ALRIGHT.
ONE SIDE IS BIGGER THAN THE OTHER,
IT STRETCHES VERY EASILY
BUT YOU HAVE TO BUST YOUR ASS TO SHRINK IT,

THERE’S TWO OF THE ‘NON-ESSENTIAL’ PARTS BUT THE PARTS WHICH DO MOST OF THE HEAVY LIFTING, THERE’S ONLY ONE AND A FATALITY FOR YOU IF YOU MESS IT UP.

WHAT’S THE POINT OF GETTING FAT AS YOU GET OLDER?

WHY IS THE ASSUMPTION I WOULD WANT TO SLOW DOWN AFTER PROCREATION?

HMPH!

BODY.

NOT FEELING HOW MUCH I’M FEELING YOU RIGHT NOW.

ALL IN MY EMOTIONS…

I’M HUNGRY.

DAMN YOU!!

Inspired by Daily Prompt Word: Disastrous

P.S. This is an oldie and goodie for me. I had forgotten all about it.

 

 

A STORM OF DRUM BEATS

Twittering Tale #41 – 18 July 2017

Photo copied from Kat: “Like Mercury Colliding” blog

Stacatto
Percussion on the shield
Wind crashed drops
Smashing on the high-hat
Slap tap on tires round
Skin on conga
Passing storm
Sheila E.

P.S. – This woman gives me chills!! Props to Tito Puente and Pete Escovedo, always, but Ms. E is a tropical storm unlike any other! I hope you enjoy watching her as much or even more than I do!