Roots, Bloody Roots!

This photo does absolutely fuck all justice to how impossible it was to break down and remove this giant, deeply anchored lump of concrete. (And this blog borrowed it’s title from the Sepultura song of the same name!) The photo is the foundation of my garden path. My awesome friends have been helping me remove it (THANK YOU!) It’s taken around 15 hours in total to break it, it’s foundations and the metal rods, but this bitch of a lump was not coming out. The rods mostly got broken off and the mound became smaller, but it was proving impossible.

This was only a small task in comparison to the rest of the work I have to do. It has been essential that I’ve asked for help, because it’s not something I could have done safely by myself. Toddlers on your back and swinging sledgehammers onto concrete…. Don’t do it!

When this small but seemingly monumental task began, I remembered thinking that it felt really symbolic considering all the ongoing work I’ve been doing over the last few years- work to try and reconnect with my center, to dig deep and sift through all the baggage and trauma and shadows that lurk inside of myself. Removing this giant, slightly dangerous and unsightly path that I’d never have opted for felt like a finale to trying to unpick the parts of myself that never were mine to begin with. I know its time to build my own path, no excuses and only personal responsibility for where I end up.

As I was watching the pitchfork get more bent up from loosening brick and cement and iron from under the earth, I told my friends about my theory and we joked about it for the rest of the evening. It was getting less and less like a joke and more and more like it was a direct and physical manifestation of the internal struggle I’ve been going through during this blog process and prior. We joked that maybe I was meant to just bury my trauma after all and something that’s clicked a million times, but still never enough, sunk in. Perhaps because I was already hammering at my foundations and there was no other place for truth to go than to my core.

There comes a point where you can’t keep trying to erase all that was traumatic from your life and call it healing. Eventually you have to stop picking at, digging away and sledge hammering at your trauma – the parts of yourself that most need love – and realise that there’s another way of looking at burying it.

There’s building on it.

I realised. remembered, accepted… Whatever word… that once you’re done removing all of the parts of yourself that were never yours, you’re left with what’s left of who you were always meant to be. Like it or lump it. And I’ve got a great big lump of cement/trauma that I’m going to work with and love instead of trying, failing and harming myself by trying to gouge it out of my past. What’s left is me. Its here to stay.

It was suggested that I should fill the hole with loads of fertile soil and that is exactly what I’ll do. Physically and metaphorically. Spiritually and mentally. Emotionally. In all ways. Every ally. Everyone is an ally in growth.

Another beautiful friend helped me have a further huge break through today and accept that it’s ok to accept help and to be vulnerable…Of course I know that and I tell people that, but it’s so, so much easier to preach than practice. After one hell of an ego wounding and war, a constant battle of survival and self preservation after facing losing everything, I have to remember how to trust again now. Its time to read Ego/Self: a fairy tale again and to stop fucking fighting everything.. especially my self.

I started a free online course with this epic woman who I’ve never even met, but who speaks to me on such a deep level. Its not a personalised course but it’s deeply personal and such very essential understanding if we are to make healthier futures for ourselves. Its called Trauma and Transcendence with Kimberly Johnson, or Magamama on Facebook. She’s got a book and is writing more. What she has to say, what others like her have to say… Its so fucking necessary. The video you’ll be emailed by filling in the form will hopefully completely change how you view yourself and all others across all of space and time.

I want to launch into an explanation of the course but I won’t do it justice. I need to redo it over and over to let it all keep sinking in where I’m ready to meet it, but what it’s taught me most importantly is that there is a healthier and more authentic way of being in my body, and in turn my life. My body can give me better information about what’s been recorded than my mind, because the mind is subjective and the body isn’t.

If I want to fully occupy my life, if I want to fully embrace building a healthier life, I absolutely have to start by inhabiting my body completely and in the present. I’ll be looking for new ways to do that.

Time to get back to the present!

And it’s time to reconnect with the expansive, not restrictive part of my self and to remember to see others with love. Its hard to not be insular when you’ve lived in survival mode for ages. When you don’t have enough for yourself it’s so hard give and connect meaningfully with others. I think maybe it’s time to revisit the Goddess Makeover book I’ve been working on and see if I’m ready to move on to the next chakra, the sacral, which is all about connection and relationships. Sensuality and sexuality. How we connect with ourselves and others. The first was the root. Bloody root!

Good foundations build a better life. Good company makes it worth living.

The physical is always the final thing to shift. If we start as energy, which manifests into thought, which manifests into matter…. What matters if we want change is that we direct our energy to thinking more in tune with who and what we want to be, with what we already are.

If we want change, we have to stop trying and start being that change.

Like Gandhi said.

And that is the power of now…

(That one is Eckhart Tolle)

Planting, Numbers and Daring Greatly

I’ve had a bit of a layman’s obsession with numerology and seeing recurring number sequences for quite a long time now, such as 2020, 1111, 3113 and so on. Over the years I have taught myself various calculations and ways of interpreting the results. My newest venture is to learn about Chaldean numerology, which is a much, much older system than the Pythagorean one, and some people feel it is more accurate. Of course there are those who think we’re all bat shit crazy, but to each their own. Learning about this new system, (following legally changing my name with guidance from a numerological genius named Psio ) has rekindled my obsession and I’ve been learning more about all of my friends’ and family’s numbers too. Just because single parenting isn’t enough work – why not add some pointless maths?

Absent Progress

Usually when I disappear from my ‘duties’ (like this is a duty, ha!), it’s because I am stagnating and not really committing to myself properly. For once, I’ve actually been upping my game fractionally every day on the self worth commitment front. Is my life better? No, i’m still grumpy and miserable and stressed and I moan and bitch all the time. Perhaps I could even say things feel a little bit worse, but that isn’t true. All that has happened through this process so far is that I have become more aware of what I am creating mindlessly. I am yet to return to a level of control over what I am making manifest in my life, but awareness and acceptance is a first step, as they say.

I am aware that I look for or expect the worst, I panic, I blame, I give up or don’t even start, I don’t believe myself or others (less of this latter one) capable of something big or small… I am basically a fucking doomer. I don’t feel unwell, I don’t feel really low… I just feel disconnected from my happy, wholesome source. And my absent progress is that every day I am doing something to step closer towards my core. There will come a time, as there has in the past, when I will be able to do this at the flip of a switch. I don’t feel there yet, and another thing that’s changed is I am more ok with that… I am more accepting of where I am at. Life can be better but I am taking steps to make it so.

Obstacles

I have had a burning desire to write for days but feel like I have absolutely fuck all to say. I feel pretty void of meaning at the moment and am still struggling to commit. Writing a big ol’ blog post about self selecting to partake in changing the world kinda put more pressure on the public nature of this ‘awakening’ shit.

Eughhhhhh!!

Here is the score.

I can commit to keeping the baby alive and happy, cleaning the house and feeding us decent stuff and going somewhere a few times a week. I can maintain this with ease. Some days the baby doesn’t make it possible for me to feed us and for me to shower too, though. Sometimes I can shower and dry my hair. Others a very quick wash is managed. Lately I’ve been trying to follow a 30 day yoga program and there is zero relaxation to the sudden smell of poo and a child jumping all over your plank. But I’m ploughing on. Some days are better than others. Most nights lately I can’t step away from her when she sleeps, because she wakes. I can’t make too much sound near her, because she wakes. Daytime naps are much the same. Some weeks I can put the bins out. Some weeks it’s easy to get up the town and buy nicer groceries for better meals. Occasionally I can make an effort with looking after myself more externally with clothes or make up or hair straighteners. Some days I need to see other adults and choose between that and any other of the above in a variety of arrangements but I can never do all the things I want or need. Sorting out the house that still doesn’t feel very loved? The laundry? The garden? Crikey. Writing? fuck… I don’t even know where to add that in, because I used to have a set sort of method for encouraging the motivation to do it. Ive had loads of exciting ideas bubbling up but they dramatically disappear whenever my brain finds reasons that I can make space to use them.

Procrasti-wasting

It’s bloody hard work to commit to yourself when you hang out with a one year old for twenty four hours a day! Starting this blog was meant to be a step in the direction of being more productive, but it’s actually been more a step towards chastising myself for not being productive enough. Perhaps I should cut myself some slack, because these impish little children are hard graft when you’re on your tod. I don’t think it is a fair representation to say that I don’t have time for myself to write or meditate or better look after myself. Granted I don’t have much time, though I definitely have enough to at least get started.

Let it go, let it in

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Tomorrow I am doing a talk at my friend’s spiritual health and well-being fair, Souls Awakening. I felt I had to volunteer myself for it towards the end of last year, even though I was in the shittttttest of shitty stressful times, heavily pregnant, essentially homeless, hating on life and angrily daydreaming ways to singlehandedly take down the state. I survived (so did the state) and I still don’t know much about what I’m going to say tomorrow. If I stand there whole-heartedly and talk as freely as I’m able, I know what needs to be heard will come out, because it’s happened before on many occasions…but it’s a little bit daunting…