Monday again. A lot of people don't like Mondays. As a waitress, I have learned to love Mondays. I am grateful for Mondays. I am grateful for the business of the restaurant I work in and I am grateful that I am able to do this kind of work. It is beneficial to me at this point because I don't actually sit down often. Sitting down still makes me feel lazy, tired, relaxed. Which sometimes we all want to feel. It makes me antsy, makes me feel like I am skimping on something else that I should or could be doing.
I have also noticed a spike in my ability to feel the energy of others, and in a busy restaurant like mine, I have felt doors of energy open and close in a way that makes me actually dizzy, faint. So I now embark on alternative ways to protect my own energy and I see that the smallest changes make the biggest differences. It is important to be prepared to go into a place with so many people. It is like going to a fair or a church or a gym but the energy is very different in these buildings. In a restaurant, people come in and haven't eaten in hours, or sometimes all day - and groups of them can be very challenging. I have heard people say, "How hard could it be to be a server? All you are doing is writing things down and bringing plates and glasses back and forth." If you have half a brain, this job is not for you. You need a whole brain, patience, time management skills, a sense of urgency, ability to speak to all levels and ages and races of people without prejudice. All of this, and more, like the ability to assure and reassure, to understand and be understood - are the basic skills required for such a job. I never really understood the energetic toll until I became an energy worker on the level I currently reside at.
To embrace this way of life that I have built up around me, I see that being authentic has become a virtue. It has become a goal and I don't have to compete with anyone but myself. It has become a soft path that I walk over and over in meditation, which has in itself become the way in which I have been able to reshape and hear what I have been needing to hear, not necessarily what I want to hear. I liken this to reading my own tarot cards. They tell me the truth, and sometimes we are too tired for the truth. Lying about what needs to be done is easier. But this lying to yourself takes its toll rather quickly. Becomes this big blazing ball of barbed wire that needs to be addressed and instead of standing aside and letting it pass on by, we get trapped inside of it until we are willing to get a hurt a little bit and come out of it. The vulnerability and accountability is uncomfortable for awhile. But it passes. As everything passes. That is the only thing that is certain. That everything begun, will end.
I take comfort in this, as the transitions of many things occur. I know there is a time and season for everything, and no matter how I want to create and continue and build some kind of momentum, there are phases that cannot be ended just because I am tired of them being what they are. Just because I want to transfer one habit for another, even the smallest diversions take an effort that can build up and break down. That can hinge on frustration and fury and then futile energy that sizzles up and asks me to just sit down, relax. Which is the most annoying thing anyone can say to me.
So while I am waiting for endings and beginnings, I am listening to a voice that cannot be heard by anyone else but me, and that is going to be the one thing that saves me and helps me continue to heal. It has helped me immensely already this year, and I never fail to be amazed at the way that I am shown proof that there is a whole other way to go about this as long as I stay faithful to the creative process being shown to me. To the organic and energetic way of learning that everything I have ever asked for has shown up, in one way or another and that the realization of this is something that I only learn more about when I am quiet. When I am listening. When I am authentic.
Until next Monday...
xox C 333
Soon I will be getting my next tattoo and some people will love it, others will hate it. I have acquired a few new books recently that are helping me to consider why I am doing what I am doing, and what it is for. All of it. And I find poems coming at me, coming after me. Some so fast that I cannot capture them. Visions of things that I want to paint but have too many obstacles in the way, for their own very good reasons. Some of them are born in the fires of anger and regret, and I know that I have a blistering bad temper that has the tendency to melt things into nothing. And I hate to write when I am like that. But here I am, after the intermission of the movie I went to see with good friends and two of three of my sons. I wanted to wait again to post this until tomorrow...but the blog says MONDAY. I hate not doing what I say I am going to do, and I need to really start writing this sooner than Monday as the weekends are long work hours and I know better for the most part.
I work hard on that anger and animosity. I work hard on patience. Don't we all? Don't we all have something that enrages us to the point of doing and saying things we regret? Don't we all have things that make us so depressed and anxious that we shut down, close up and forget that we need to wake up in the morning and start it all over again? I write and write and write about all the things I am grateful for, and it's not that those things are taken for granted or forgotten, because they are most certainly not. But in those moments of complicated emotion and exhaustion, those things and thoughts and people become jagged shadows amidst the smoke that surrounds me and I cannot see through it. I am lost in my own sabotage, and even though I can hear the voices around me, what I can feel is what makes my breath get held and those feelings become something everyone can feel.
And that's why I write. Because it saves lives. Especially mine.
And I cannot get into specifics about the blistering rage that sometimes stands inside me. Subdued until something flashes at it, a dry wind that come across someones lips or someones energy. Those who know me have told me about it, and it doesn't surprise me but it does make me question its origin.
No one can stop it except me, and I'm not special. But I am dedicated to it. I'm too stubborn and deliberate to let it go but there are those steps that are on fire and the certain bridges that I thought I was not going to be able to burn that I am tired of revisiting.
So, please excuse me while I take some time to burn some shit down.
It's a messy job, and I'm willing to do it.
See you next week.
xox C 333
I like how my timelines on Facebook remind me both of how far I have come and how far I have yet to go. I like the frustrating and complicated processes of moving ahead as you feel like you are falling behind. Kind of like the snow, it is a force that cannot be avoided. It is a sense of trust that the Universe is much more powerful and instinctual than we are. It is the sense that we are tiny yet large. We are both happy and sad. We are diverse and strong and weak. In our core, we are One, the Same matter makes us up.
We learn that being frustrated and angry drains us. We feel exhaustion from stress and pain and disappointments. We feel anxiety and nervousness and it can change how we view the world and our work and our future. We feel we are undeserving or targeted or cursed. We feel that no one could possibly understand what we are going through and we feel that we can no longer go on this way. Yet we do. We continue on...most of us continue on. I won't elaborate on what I have been reading about suicide lately, and no, I am not suicidal. I am a Scorpio and I feel things down the darkest shred of whatever you may think Hell is supposed to be. And of course, I am grateful because that gives me plenty to write about.
The Full Moon was Sunday, and it has come and gone. Daylight Savings Time has again, come and gone for another year. The blizzard will soon be over. We will talk about it for awhile, like Hurricane Sandy that came and devastated so much, The only time I have lived on the East Coast and lost power for multiple days. Now this town is going to raise their taxes 4.5% next year and we are going to somehow pay to rebuild that pavilion that we have already paid for once already. $42 million. Wonderful. This town is not the place I grew up in. It is barely recognizable now, so unrecognizable that I traveled out of town to grocery shop because literally, the breed of people that now reside here are so alien to me. I would rather not have high blood pressure while trying to concentrate on reading ingredient and nutritional labels.
Do you have good memories of the holidays just past? Have you kept your resolutions? Have you given up something for Lent? Are you ready to give up, give in? Are you still depending on something outside of yourself to make you happy? These are just some of the questions we all commonly ask and share. We are all the same, yet swirl with so many multitudes and levels of differences...and when we meet on one common issue, it feels like a miracle. It feels like we have hope, strength and despair because all of these things exist together. All of these things, the earth, the sun, the clouds, the snow...the dilapidated pavilion (which really pisses me off...a distant memory of my mother walking its shore, beach fries and lifeguards in their red suits tainted by the ignorance and greed of the wealthy) these things that are showered with things we can do nothing about...shaded by those things we can - like knowing we are not alone and that there is someone out there who can understand this...even if it is not the person we desperately want it to be...for all of this, I am grateful.
Thank you for reading...
See you again next week
xox C 333
I have had to adjust my focus several times over the last couple months for this New Year and all things are becoming clear one switch at a time. I broke a streak of 90 days of meditation because I fell asleep, I think that was last Monday night when I blew off Bates Motel and the Blog post. Simply exhausted from all the circus like events of life in general.
Making small changes like listening to music without words (Corynorhinus (Latin): Big Eared Bat) has allowed me to ride on a train of momentum that is allowing growth and revision for The Forest Labyrinth manuscript. Drinking a different kind of green tea because the more popular name brand tastes like grass and because green tea has great properties for your internal systems. Switching to a different kind of coconut almond creamer with a touch of sugar to cut down on regular white sugar which I recently learned could possibly be bleached through the bones of animals.
Less is definitely more. Just five minutes of meditation can do a world of difference. A remedy that you used and lost track of. Minimalism and awareness. Things changing because everything was staying the same for too long. Like pushing that boulder again, up a mountain. Now I feel like I am standing next to it. Like I can paint on it some words that I want to inspire someone else with and when I am done, I will push it and watch it go down the path that I am going to follow next, trying not to crush anyone on the way.
Things gain momentum and inspiration and go through their cycles. The daylight becomes longer. People get a little happier for a little while longer as it gets warmer. But not too warm. And honestly, we have had such a mild winter. We complain it's too cold, it's too hot. It's too this, it's too that. About shit we have no control over. Kids get stolen from their families by family members who murder their wives and beat their friends. Like ten minutes from here. Anything can happen at any time. Is it random? Was the little girl who was probably six or seven wandering through the grocery store by herself who looked up at me with a trepidation in her eyes random? As I watched her walk and look down every aisle to find her mother and then not find her, I asked one of the staff to look at her, do you think you could help her find who she is looking for? Because, honestly, if I were a predator that little girl could have been in my trunk and halfway to across town before the mother or whoever even knew she was missing. It was because of me that they paged her mother over the intercom while I watched and stood in line for a good fifteen minutes. Tonight.
Random, random and random.
The Full Storm Moon is this Sunday at 10:54 am. At 2 am, Daylight Savings Time occurs. I am hoping for the best as the season and time leaps forward. I am hoping for continued insight, intuition and inspiration, and I hope that for you, too.
Until next Moonday :)
xox 333 C