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?
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.
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.
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.
Its Yule, or winter solstice, here in the Northern Hemisphere. The shortest hours of daylight in the year and tomorrow marks the return of the light. I am welcoming that with big massive bells on!! There is also a full moon, a meteor shower and I just finished my second period in two years. LET IT ALLLLLLLL GO!!!!!!
I have been seeing a chiropractor to help with both historic and pregnancy related pain. There is physical, mental and emotional shite trapped in my bones, joints, muscles, tendons – all over the bloody shop – and I’ve decided to get some help for the stuff I can’t reach myself. Its like stirring up the murky bit at the bottom of a pond – it looked clear, but give it a stir and all hell breaks loose and you can’t see clearly. Throughout last night I experienced what I can only describe as a swarm of bees and electricity jolting through the tissue in my body. It needed to be wiggled and stretched out. The sensation is horrid, but the release and the freedom, the sense of greater clarity and better movement – both physically and spiritually – are worth the shit bits.
Last night I was talking to a friend, about how we both felt a bit disconnected from our ‘creative flow’. We both like to write. Talking about it again today made me remember a few things I had planned to include in my last post, but that had escaped me. Pre baby, words would bubble up inside me and I’d rush to a pen or some device. There would be no thinking or planning, it would just flow
Post baby, sometimes I can’t even run the tap without being interrupted by my daughter, and her needs trump my need to write about 80% of the time. Maybe all %s of the time, or maybe less. Who knows. My point is that I can’t write freely like I used to. Not always at least. That had left me feeling quite stifled and it’s taken me until now to even attempt to break out of the writing rut. Even my new phone is against me, because I can’t type as fast as I used to without spilling gobbledegook onto the screen. It’s like some force is trying to slow me down and make me think more carefully, plan better and create more space and pace for self-expression. Based on the last post, that force will be me if I want to be liberated into sole responsibility for my life experience!
A few years ago I saw this idea written in an article. It as about abandoning new year’s resolutions and in their place you would pick a word for the year. I’ve done health, adventure, commitment, create and liberate. Last year was the create year and I ended up with another little human to look after, but I picked it because I wanted to be creative with writing and art. During adventure I got to the bottom of why I’d ever had mental health problems, after PTSD flashbacks shed light, but what I meant when I picked the word was to travel the world. I picked committment to focus on an open university degree but I found myself having to get really commited to becoming more self loving. Health was a bit more of that, as well as getting really politically active, but what I meant was eat salad and exercise more….
Be careful what you wish for, eh?
Well I went and disappeared, didn’t I? I started back on starting up again and then I stopped and flapped around like a fish out of water. Stop, start, stop, start. Three steps forward, two steps back!
I did my talk and suddenly nose dived into a bit of a despairing couple of weeks! First I had to contend with remembering all of the stupid things I said in my talk. I freaked out to my friend when my memory told me I basically said people need to just get over the Holocaust. That is totally NOT what I said, as she rightly pointed out, but my brain decided to shame me because it was feeling insecure. I actually said that people experience different levels of trauma and suffering across their life and across time and space, and the Holocaust would have to be on the extreme end. The talk on the whole was about how to start letting go of suffering.