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Posts Tagged ‘job’

Back on the Bus

Posted by Amanda Gray on January 18, 2015

I had interviews last week for a new employment position.  Just before my second interview, I had an interesting dream:

I’m shopping with my mom, when, suddenly, I remember I have an interview at 11:30 AM.  As I look at my watch, I think that there’s no way I’ll be able to get to the interview on time.  I consider calling the employer to tell them of my mistake, or to reschedule, but then I remember that there’s a direct bus that could work.   

I find myself on the bus.  There’s several other people, but it’s not too full or too empty.  I start a conversation with someone next to me (a male).  I share my earlier fears and reveal my next fear: I’m wearing my shabbiest clothes – not at all appropriate for an interview!  I consider what I can do.  I decide that I’ll try to buy a nice jacket when I get off the bus, stretch the time, and be, perhaps 5 minutes late for the meeting.  There’s also some kind of discussion about my favourite movie of all time, which I decide is Star Wars, Return of the Jedi.  I consider that I should bring a DVD of this to my meeting – and I think I take a ‘back in time’ aside in order to pick it up at home.

As I get off the bus, I see that I have two minutes.  I race around the mall stores, but there’s too much choice, and there’s no jackets quickly apparent on the front racks. I’m wasting too much time.  So I decide to just take off the shabbiest clothing item I’m wearing, which is a white, threadbare vest, with several black marks on it.  

I get to my interview, which now appears to be with spiritual teacher, Adyashanti.  I join a group of students on the floor in front of Adya and his presentation whiteboard.  I have my DVD of Return of the Jedi and I notice that I’m wearing a nice, bright orange jersey top.  A perfectly sensible outfit for a spiritual student.  I’m entirely relieved. Edmonton City Bus

The dream tells me that I’m back on the bus – involved again with a community/group journey.  The bus isn’t parked anymore, nor is it predicting some sort of ‘end of game’ scenario (see post Erasing Programs, Rewriting Software).  It’s also interesting how every time my dream character thinks there’s a problem, it falls away with no effort.

The next item for attention is clothing.  Clothing has to do with the persona: anxieties about fitting in and being ‘well-suited’ for a new role.  Focus is on the upper body, which may be related to the heart.  White – the vest – is a color of light, purity, newness, and awareness.  But it’s also dirty and old, and I’m ashamed of it, indicating some self-worth issues.  And then I’m throwing it away, indicating a willing transition, and letting go of the past.  Discarding the shame.  Orange – the jersey top – according to my favourite dream resource (Cloud Nine – A Dreamers Dictionary) – is a color of “Balancing, creative expression, cutting through/penetrating, and female strength.”  Another book considers orange to represent nervous energy/anxiety.  I like the color, and it’s definitely energetic.  It also brings to mind ‘safety clothing’, fresh citrus fruit, and carrots.  So, I consider it a positive symbol in this context.

At the end, my meeting is with Adyashanti.  A symbol of spiritual guidance, enlightenment and love.  I become a student in the dream.  This, to me, indicates a very positive teaching/learning situation.  A decision to abandon little ego choices and choose, instead, with the higher holy Self.  I take this as a sign that I’ve truly kicked my ‘actor’ addiction – an egoic fantasy to ‘create’ myself.  That actor stuff never seemed to come naturally, and it never brought me much peace, just lots of effort.  So, I truly don’t want the egos tiny, self-serving goals anymore.  They’re not ever intended to be reached, actually, anyway.  Now, what I REALLY WANT is to cooperate with the universe, and trust that what’s simply given will bring me the greatest eternal gifts: peace, freedom, and joy.

Return of the Jedi was a movie I particularly loved when I was 13 years old.  This symbol comes up, first, because it may indeed be my favourite movie of all time, but also because it might be pointing to something specific about that TIME.  So, something that was happening around that age that’s arising in consciousness for healing now.  Emotions to be resolved.  What I can think of, that’s significant, is that it was the time of my first crush – with Luke Skywalker.  Something in his mysterious, dark cloaked entrance before Jabba the Hutt, his power using the force, and his brave actions saving everybody, really addled my hormonal and spongy teenage mind.  It was my first experience with ‘love’, and I think I felt that a movie character was ‘safe’ to love.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Since this dream, I’ve been hired for the company that was interviewing me.  Yippee!!  I feel like this dream was already predicting success, and showing me that it’s ‘safe’ to proceed.  I’m SOOOOOOO READY!!  And THRILLED.  And ON BOARD.  There’s also several symbols of the job situation itself that are interesting:

*  Keys: “A key part of yourself, the crux of an issue.  Keys unlock the doors of mystery; expose hidden/secret knowledge; lead to awareness/growth. They can represent release/freedom from entrapment, power, authority, honour (‘keys to the city’).  The union of opposites, therefore reduction of tension.”  I’d also add: security.  It also makes me think of the ‘Keymaster’ from Ghostbusters, who, in union with the ‘Gatekeeper’, opened a powerful portal.  And the Keymaster from the second Matrix movie, the one who had the key for Neo to get to the Architect.  Highly symbolically interesting!

*  Justice:  “Bringing equality, harmony or stability into a situation or relationship.  Asserting our rights and upholding the rights of others.  Balance in consciousness.”

*  School:  There’s that teaching/learning situation. Curiosity, play, and discovery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In reference to the ACIM passages I listed in my last post (Erasing Programs, Rewriting Software):  Yes, symbols are meaningless, ultimately, but it doesn’t mean spirit can’t use them while we have need of them.  Everything is a message from spirit, if we take it that way.  All pointing to our ultimate function – the unification of consciousness.  And THAT’S my REAL job. 

 Red heartIn love

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A Formula for Life

Posted by Amanda Gray on June 25, 2014

Tremendous bit of news to start: I moved to the most beautiful place on Earth!  I am now living in the stunning and mind-blowing Pacific Northwest city of Vancouver!

Vancouver Seawall

Yippee!!

Getting here, mind you, has been a challenging exercise, and the city hasn’t quite opened it’s great arms to my full participation yet.  I’ve been applying energy in every direction I can think of; dipping my toes into a wide assortment of potential activities, tippy-toeing down myriad paths of possibility for groups and collaboration; and after 2 months, I still haven’t quite got my groove on. 

The main thing, of course, is for some income. My mom and I have both been bleeding green for months now. I keep reiterating that it can’t go on like this forever, that money has to flow back to us eventually. It’s the fundamental nature of energy.  It’s science. It’s truth. And yet, every day continues to show itself as another day of spending, spending, spending. Yikes!  Ok. Fine. I repeat my favourite mantra; TRUST. I have to trust.  Everything is being taken care of.  Worrying about it will make no difference.  The energy will move when it does, and not a second sooner.  But it’s wearing on me – on us.  And we’ve had many, many moments of anger, and disagreement, and fear, and frustration, and tears, to tangle with, then to release, discuss, and forgive.  So, if nothing else, we’ve certainly been doing our spiritual work!  Continuous and ongoing!

I had one job interview.  Only one – but it’s a super good one – for a job I would REALLY enjoy.  At a gorgeous new arts centre close to home.  I don’t think I could do much better – it aligns so clearly with all the aspects of work I’d want. It finally seems that I’m ready to clear away some majorly dysfunctional divisions in my mind, and, in particular, an idea that I could have a Mc.job that paid the rent OR I could have creative work that I wanted, but never both. This idea kept me in jobs that I didn’t much like, always craving to be someplace else, but never able to get to that mythic holy land of creative fulfilment. If I created or performed, it was a hobby, enjoyable and collaborative, but short-lived, and almost always zero budget. If I earned income, it’s often been with repetitive functions, with little opportunity for creative expression or collaboration with others, and, usually, short-lived as well.  You see, because I was never truly committed to either side.  Both sides presented some difficulty or danger.  I get money, but sell my soul – I express myself creatively, but starve to death.  Jeesh!

Well, now I’m finished with all that nonsense.  Now I’m simply asking for EVERYTHING I want.  I want work I can approach with my WHOLE MIND.  My logical, analytical, technological left brain AND my playful, creative, spontaneous right brain – all together for the first time in my life!  I want to collaborate creatively with others, take responsibility for a bigger picture, use technology to organize data and create networks, and to challenge, play and evolve every day with something vivid, fresh and delightful!  This word – evolution – it’s a PARTY in my mind right now – I want to EVOLVE in every direction all at ONCE!!  I feel ready to push through all barriers of dualistic thinking, and move in a whole new way – EVERY WAY – ALL WAYS!

As I recently created an infographic resume (using easel.ly), I developed a motto for my work – actually – in fact, it’s more of a formula that encapsulates my recent philosophy of life.  It goes like this:

 

care + attention = excellence

 

This simple formula can be applied anytime, anywhere, with any thing, person, object, goal or activity.  In every way.  In all ways.  It will always ensure the same result.  It’s science.  It’s truth.  It’s the formula for my life now.  Income, or no income – all I need is to look around me – at the stunning creation that’s springing to existence in this marvellous city at every remarkable moment – to nod an acknowledgement to it’s shining divinity – to bow in awe at it’s unknowable, vast, tumult – it’s light-speed velocity – and remember that I am ONE with it.  I can’t be left behind.  When I open up, relax and go with the flow; give this moment, every moment, my full care and attention; allow myself to expand, expand, and expand some more; then the excellence of life surrounds me, invites and welcomes, and embraces me.  Ahhhh….

 

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Chaos Theory

Posted by Amanda Gray on February 25, 2012

Photobucket

 

It follows that after my dream about Fragments, I would continue to explore the theme of order/chaos. It’s manifested, most noticeably, in an issue with dirty dishes.

Last year, for a short time, I had a job in a hospital.  I performed in a food service capacity in which washing dishes was a significant part of the work. I did three training shifts with a partner, which went well, then I worked one shift on my own. Suddenly, I hated the job, and I immediately sent an email to my boss to say that the position wasn’t suited to me and to ask if there was an alternative. Kindly, the boss scheduled me to work at the nursing home instead, in, pretty much, the same capacity. Again, I worked with a partner for three training shifts, and then I worked two shifts on my own.  Although I couldn’t understand the problem, I again felt like I didn’t want the job.  Fortunately, it was a casual position and after turning down two subsequent shifts, they stopped calling me to work.

As much as I tried to come up with a justification for rejecting the job, nothing really explained the foreboding feeling that arose whenever I considered it.  What was that terrible feeling?  It wasn’t a horrible job.  I was entirely capable of handling the work. Yet, I just couldn’t motivate myself to do it.

Many months later, I picked up some extra shifts with my current employer, as a waitress. Again, I had to handle dirty dishes, and, again, the same strange, dark feelings arose. When I finished my schedule, I immediately turned down all further waitressing shifts.

Now, for the past several weeks, I’ve been having conflicts with my mom over the dishes at home. The other day, I totally flipped out about it, and I was so angry, I had to lie down to calm myself.  I could see that the anger was, specifically, about the mess I thought mom made in the kitchen when she cooked and I accused her of using too many dishes to accomplish the meal. “It’s not that I don’t want to DO the dishes,” I told her later, when I felt more conciliatory, “it’s the MESS that I can’t stand. It makes me NUTS!”

So, there it was. Over the past year, I could deny the issue by avoiding jobs with dirty dishes, but now it was hovering over me like a beast in my home, and I had to face it. Still, how was I perceiving the dirty dishes as some kind of threat?

Yesterday, as I drove through town, I noticed a number of people breaking traffic laws. Then, at a town dinner, a weird guy budded in front of me in the buffet line. What was the common theme in all this? Breaking the rules? Disorder?

This morning, the order/chaos lesson brought all the situations together:

  • Order, harmony, rules, clean, peace.
  • Disorder, conflict, chaos, mess, dirty, war. 

I had been believing that I had to control all exterior disorder to feel safe in the world. If a situation became too messy or chaotic, I would feel helpless and out of control. Help was often offered – at the hospital, nurses and were willing and available; at the restaurant, my boss and the cook helped me; and, at home, my mom helped – but I didn’t WANT their help. The help just made me feel worse!  It was like I wanted to HIDE the mess, and if I accepted help, it meant that: a) I was unsuccessful at hiding the mess, and, b) that I was too weak to fix the mess by myself. Going a step deeper, I realized that I was experiencing this exterior chaos because I felt chaotic/conflicted within. I wouldn’t be trying to fix a ‘problem’ of disorder in the world if I didn’t think I had an intrinsic LACK of order in myself. Can chaos be real? Was I created as a chaotic mess? Is there a war within me? No, these ideas can’t be real. The universe is friendly, harmonious, peaceful, orderly. How could I be different?  I have it on good authority that “I am still as God created me” (A Course in Miracles)… so how is it logical that God created chaos here?

I had been using ‘order’ as an ‘idol’.  An ‘idol’ is something I believe will make me ‘complete’ instead of simply accepting natural completion as I am in spirit. It’s a way of enforcing an illusory ‘gap’, a separation of subject/object, in what is already perfectly unified. I denied true completion and true unification and, instead, played a game of “I’m not good enough so I need to fix the mess in the world”. The ‘world’ – which is merely a projection – the deeper truth of which is the belief that I need to fix MYSELF.  That I need to, somehow, restore order in myself.  That I need to reconcile the warring parties in my mind.  Can it be done? No, because I’ve never been out-of-order! There are no warring parties.  There is NO conflict in my mind. It’s total nonsense! I had believed in a phantom.

And, *poof*, it’s gone… because it never was.

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It Doesn’t Matter (Part 1)

Posted by Amanda Gray on July 21, 2011

I have so much gratitude. So many revelations – miracles – have been shown to me this evening. One of the compensations of spiritual work is that, when you get it, you really GET it! A whole new vista opens up within you; a dimension of liveliness, loveliness and acceptance that feels… blissful.The Razor''s Edge

I watched the movie “The Razor’s Edge” yesterday.  (The photo and link are to the original story by W. Somerset Maugham.)  It’s a very spiritual movie, but its messages are exceptionally subtle. So subtle, that the first three times I watched it, I didn’t understand, but this time, the actions of the main character (Bill Murray) finally made sense to me. Another character does something horrible, but all he says is, “It doesn’t matter.” What could he mean? How can it not matter?

But it’s true. I get it. It truly doesn’t matter. None of it. This entire world and all of its participants – none of it MEANS anything. It’s only a thought that thinks it means something. Only a thought that ‘decides’ whether something is good or bad, right or wrong, likeable or detestable. And I don’t have to believe the thought. I don’t have to believe ANY thought. NO thoughts are true. When a feeling arises, it’s just an energy being released in that form (anger, fear, grief). I don’t have to believe it MEANS anything. It doesn’t. NO feelings are true.

The other day, I went out with my Mom. The entire day, I struggled with judgements and grievances. It seemed that all day, we just couldn’t communicate, and couldn’t decide together on anything. I wanted one thing, and she wanted something else. What can you do when each wants something different and no compromise is possible? I watched my thoughts carefully all day, recognized my resistances, surrendered my judgements, and at the end of the day, I recognized something truly significant. When I wanted something but then couldn’t get my way, I would blame my Mom for ruining my PEACE. I tried every way to Timbuktu to project the blame on her – but it wasn’t her. It was me. Holding the desire was ruining my OWN peace. Being in resistance ruined my OWN peace. It could’ve been a very nice day – but within me, I resisted and struggled. Me. All me. Outwardly, everything was fine. There was nothing to complain about. Does it matter if it’s ‘her’ way or ‘my’ way… if, in truth, we’re ONE, and that there is only, in truth, ONE way?

Today I started a new job. It was very physically taxing, and I’m not fit at the moment, so it was a real challenge. Like Adyashanti often recommends, I simply accepted everything just as it was. If I was tired, I accepted being tired. If my head hurt or my neck was stiff, I accepted it. I thoroughly enjoyed working with the team, and I accepted each person in each moment, just as they were, and whatever they were contributing. (Of course, it’s generally pretty easy to do that with complete strangers.) I accepted the job as it was, even though, normally, as a very lazy girl, I wouldn’t put myself out that much. Normally, I’d resist and make excuses to get out of doing things I didn’t want to do. I took one of the tougher jobs and gave it everything I had. When I wanted to trade out of that particular position, but was assigned to continue, I accepted it. What I learned at the end of the day is this: if it truly doesn’t matter what’s happening or what I’m doing, I can just do the best I can, I don’t need to worry about the results, and I can believe that I have everything I need to do the job. If I decide I CAN do it – then I CAN.

Today, I also learned that when a truth is revealed, it can be enjoyed in the moment and then soon forgotten, or it can be integrated into my life, thereby making it a PERMANENT transformation. I learned yesterday, from that movie, that all this stuff of nonsense just doesn’t matter, I integrated that into my day today, and all the hard work was made light.

It just doesn’t matter. Thank God!

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Big Secrets and Professional Help

Posted by Amanda Gray on June 29, 2011

Yesterday, I went to a psychiatrist. I finally admitted to myself that I’m stuck, terrified, living, pretty much, like I’m dead, and that I need serious, professional help. The more I try to think about my life, the more the thoughts spin in predictable loops and result in further confusion, indecision, resistance and anxiety.

The psychiatrist, Pat, was nice enough. She warned me that she might say some things I wouldn’t like, and while I was sure that I wanted that, she did succeed in challenging me in a way I didn’t expect. I explained to her that I’m particularly frustrated in my work experience, and that I keep finding myself in jobs that press all my anxiety buttons and eventually lead to my resignation. I told her that I would prefer to stay unemployed at this time in order to figure out what I really want to do. She suggested that any job would be better than no job. I didn’t like that. Any job? Inflict my insanity upon poor, defenceless employers and co-workers? So far, I’ve been good at quitting with notice before any major disaster, but taking a job while I’m so stressed could easily lead to being fired. That wouldn’t be helpful. True, it isn’t necessary to project the past onto the future, but without a plan or a goal up front, before I act, just sets me up for the same old story. The cycle starts and ends with me. That’s where I’m willing and ready to address the problem. But to take any job… well, that’s what I’ve already done for 10 years and I’m confident that it’s not working for me or anyone else. More accurately, any job, I can take… a job – a LIFE – that I might want and care about… well, that’s why I need a psychiatrist. On the other hand, perhaps a solid ‘Suck it up, Princess,’ is more applicable than I’d prefer to admit.

Ah, now you see, this is why I shouldn’t think too much. I swing too wildly between extremes! My Course in Miracles lesson had good advice about that this morning: Lesson 4: This thought about _____ does not mean anything. It is like the things I see in this room, [on this street, out this window, etc.]. Whew. Ok. That helps.

Interestingly, the night before my psychiatrist appointment, I realized that there’s a deep ego need to get ‘the right answer’. So, in my session with Pat, I noticed that I kept making statements followed by asking her, “Right?” She was great; she never fell into the game. Is there ever a ‘right’ answer? Can another person, whatever their credentials or enlightenment, ever give the ‘right’ answer to me? Truly, a psychiatrist isn’t supposed to give answers, they’re supposed to help one find the answers for themselves.

Pat gave me an assignment that I didn’t like initially as well. She wants me to write an essay about who I am, right now. I balked, “Yeah, well, the short answer is that I don’t know.” She suggested that I might need to return to the dreams and desires I had in adolescence. Like my desire to get famous? Ha! That was a retarded motivation then, and it would be an even more retarded motivation now. Finally, I conceded that there were a few interests I developed more recently, and that I could write about. Yes, I can admit, while there may be deep holes in what I know about who I am right now, there are a few things I’m clear about. I see that the ego likes to make blanket statements like “I know” or “I don’t know,” keeping to extreme points of view, but it’s more balanced and reasonable to admit that I know some things and I don’t know other things.

So, I’ll write the essay. I’ll write from a stream of consciousness instead of thinking about it too much. Funny, I would never have imagined that a simple writing assignment could rattle me. I used to be so good at feeling the fear and doing it anyway! After all, in my teens, I skydived – not just once – but three times! I used to be fearless! I used to be enthusiastic and ALIVE! What’s happened to me???

This morning, I watched a highly inspiring TEDxSinCity video. It’s by a white South-African man, Bruce Muzik, who tells his big secret to the world – that he’s a racist. He says that it’s the secrets we hold onto that limit us, and that when we reveal our secrets, we release ourselves back to life, to ALIVEness. I agree with him, and I had to consider: Do I have any secrets? What would I still keep hidden from others? Is there something I’m still ashamed of?

Well… there is something that I was hoping to share with the psychiatrist yesterday, but she seemed more interested in staying firmly in the present. Perhaps that’s appropriate to her function – or for our first session, anyway. I’ve spoken about my big secret, in general terms, with my Mom and a few close friends, but I’m not sure I revealed the details that I’m most ashamed of. It’s also possible that writing about it won’t be enough, because it has to do with my mouth and speaking. Must I yet speak the details aloud?

Last week, it arose that I feared and felt ashamed about my ‘mistakes’ – mistakes I made in the past, as well as mistakes I fear to make in the future. I also saw that this was how I most commonly judged others, based on what I perceived to be their ‘mistakes’. It’s also related to the ‘looming disaster’ that I think will happen at work. What if I make a mistake that can’t be fixed, one that I’ll have to feel guilty about – forever? Yes, I have experience with that kind of mistake and that kind of guilt. There’s a particular mistake that comes to mind. One that I made when I was a child.

I’m getting a bit of a headache. Do I dare tell you? How do I put it delicately? Will you hate me? Will you be disgusted with me? Could you love and forgive me, even though I haven’t been able to love and forgive myself?

I was nine years old. It happened in the summer, between grades 6 and 7. My parents dropped me off to stay the weekend with a classmate, Joanne. Joanne had two older brothers who were about 16 and 17 years old, and, for whatever reason, Joanne and I were left alone in their custody. I’m sure there were adults around, at some point, but I don’t remember them.

The memories I did retain, and further memories that I recovered a few years ago, are jumbled. I don’t know the order of events, but I know that, at first, I was a willing participant. A child’s normal curiosity. A child’s normal innocence and trust. We played hide and seek. We played rock music and danced. They asked me questions and paid a lot of attention to me. I felt powerful and sexy.

I thought we were having fun. The enormity of my mistake became clear when I entered the boy’s basement bedroom and saw the younger boy sitting on the bed, holding a jack-knife, threateningly. He ordered me to take off my clothes. “No.” I answered defiantly, but a knot of fear twisted in my gut. Oops.

I was forced to give the older boy a blow job. I still feel the knife blade pressed up under my arm. “Don’t use your teeth,” the younger boy instructed. I still feel the pain in my jaw as I became tired and pulled away. “No, no, you can’t stop!” they insisted. I still remember the rancid smell of his crotch as I closed my eyes and submitted. I still remember my shock and surprise as he exploded in my mouth. They laughed as I spit out his spunk with disgust, “I didn’t know it would do that!” I complained. My chin was a sticky mess and they didn’t let me wash it off. It irritated and itched as it dried.

There were other tortures, far worse ones.  There was, at least, a whole day and a whole night of entertainments in their exclusive company. I’m sure that most are better left unremembered and untold. Yet, I’ve told you the ‘secret’. The secret of my dirty, disgusting mouth.

On the second day, the younger boy threatened me again, “Don’t you ever tell anyone about this!” I shook my head, crying, “No, I won’t. I won’t say anything.” I kept my promise to him. Even when he was charged with rape later the same year and my Mom asked if anything had happened while I was there. I said no. I lied to her. I kept my promise to him, though, through my whole life, particularly in ways that couldn’t be anticipated. Perhaps it’s why I’ve always preferred to write about myself instead of speaking aloud. It’s also perhaps why I’m particularly inarticulate if I’m asked to defend myself. My facial expression is often tight-lipped, and I’ve recently developed a relentless circle of acne around my mouth – a constant reminder of my ‘dirty’ face. Also recently, I discovered that I’m allergic to dairy. Hmmm… yes, milk, yoghurt and cheese are similar to the consistency of spunk. Dairy, as a symbol, isn’t lost on me either: denial of pleasure (dairy is a pleasure food), denial of nurturing (mother’s milk), and, by extension, denial of self-love.

If I was subconsciously keeping the promise I made that day, you might very well ask how I performed as an actress and spoke before large audiences on a regular basis. Yes, well, I was always fine if I was playing a part or speaking from a script. Speaking for myself – no, that was my limitation. As much as I was subconsciously compelled to keep silent, I was also compelled by the opposite extreme, to be heard. Also, I had repressed the trauma throughout those years. My more recent commitment to the Self and its full realization brought those memories to the surface, along with the concomitant fear, guilt, shame, hurt, and various bizarre physical maladies, in order to be expressed, accepted, forgiven and released. It sucks, but that’s how it works. When it’s at the worst, I remember that it’s what I knowingly signed up for, and I’m grateful to finally shed it.  It has no control when it’s in the open.  It has ALL control when it’s kept hidden.

My grade 6 class photo is of a thin, beautiful, sparkling eyed, and broadly beaming girl. In grade 7, she’s fat, with reddish cheeks, and a tight, closed mouth. The light has gone out of her eyes. I found a diary entry from that time that could be related: “The more I think about you-know-what, the more I hate myself.” A lifelong suffering of migraine headaches, including sensitivity to light, nausea and vomiting, began around the same time. My regular punishment and crucifixion, inflicted by subconscious guilt and self-hatred.

So that’s it. That’s my biggest, most shameful secret. Was it helpful to reveal it? Well, my body is now warm with kundalini energy, and I feel somewhat relieved. My forehead and neck still feel a bit tight, but not painful. It wasn’t so bad to tell. In writing, anyway.

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