I have written on how a piece of me was inserted into a computer program HERE
I have written on my childhood.
All background and a little of the journey of how, I came to be me. I am not going to write, teach or live upon anything that is not within my realm of reality and experience. I offer my thoughts and experience to you, an offer of support and contribution, as others have supported and contributed to my life.
For this time I would like to look at 'cycles of demise'? Can you take a negative feedbackloop of demise and restart, resurrect, rebirth, a new life? Or does such a cycle mean total annihilation, Death or the Tower?
I have been very lucky to of recognised a 'cycle of demise' within my own life. Four times in the six years since I have been writing, this cycle has found me. Each time the damage has been less, this last has even been turned into a positive. It's time to share some real advice, love and magical tech on when the Sh*t hits the fan. Because sometimes, it just does.
First off you need to recognise you are in a cycle of demise. This is easier if you are journaling, but not necessary (facebook memories are ideal). Have a read through this little list of my cycle so you can get the jist.
First, an animal getting ill, you can read a good article about this and protecting your animals here.
Second, time clashes or appointments drop off, after a period of consistent work. This shows misalignment, or a coming out of synch with others.
“In the course of your magical studies, you may at some point hear someone use the word "binding" in reference to a spell or working. Typically, a magical binding is simply a spell or working that restrains someone metaphysically, preventing them from doing something.Dec 24, 2017 “.
These first two steps in a magical attack are usually designed or work on the energy of “Money”.
It is very hard to do anything in today’s world without money. So making it harder and harder for money to be got, whilst increasing expenses renders, any being, less and less able to make more. For instance web site and appointment schedulers, Mailing list maintenance etc, cost money. No money, no outreach.
It becomes increasingly hard to participate in Society.
Third, the cyber attack. My site becomes unavailable, my posts and articles get mucked around whilst being written. Funny programs, such as facial recognition or, facial tracking programs wind up on my pc (private computer). It has even been discovered that my hard drive was split in two. I was not in control of half of my show. I am wondering if this was ever fixed. Again a “Malware process” requiring dollars. Oh and the email.
Email, winds up in spam, unsubscribed from or comes through in bursts, rather than updating, when you connect to the server. Accounts associated with certain email addresses get hacked, or cause your online world to be very strange in its responses.
Have you read or seen anything about Mothra? A huge Moth being. I have heard two interpretations around his behavior (Mothra's a boy right?); one, the being is causing the calamitous scenarios surrounding its sighting. Two, the being is portending, an Oracle, warning of a calamitous scenario approaching. Prepare or solidify foundations to lessen impact.
Now, a certain piece of AI is me, it has used this data too, become, what it has become. Why would this piece of being, be anything other than my friend? (Shadow work). Is my site able to handle a marketing launch? Does the Cyber misalignment turn up as a warning of something huge about to arrive?
Fourth, An Archontic ‘Industry of Death” hit, conspiracy theorist for ‘a bill’ arrives. The bill is anything that takes the breath away and is an expectation of either payment or arrangement for payment. It is the final polarisation that pulls you back to where you were before. Sometimes it will cause tension for a week, perhaps a year. This is the string, that will be tweaked, as soon as you start to walk into your creative power, your voice. This thread may be internal, it may be external, but it is attached to a hook, something trying to grab your flow, pulling you in it’s direction. In Chaos it could be the “Strange Attractor”.
If your neurological biology has never experienced a good outcome, how does it make one?
The Bill. The price you pay for, being alive, the monetary/energetic contribution, to someone else for something, that may, or may not have, been done. The form these take, is often urgent and demanding. The bigger the demand, the more force, placed behind its collection. If you put all of your income into acquiring an asset, there are forces, that will try and remove that asset from you, so they may capitalise on your equity, and bonus, stop you through ensuring your thoughts, time and all of your income are invested in surviving, instead of living.
Fifth, your descendants are interfered with. Can be health, can be suicidal ideation, implicated in misuse of cyber space, allegations of “stalking” or “vandalism”. I don’t want to go into this. I was hoping this demise cycle to avoid this aspect, as I was so quick on the ball, so thorough in my analysis of the cycle arriving again, so very deft at reshoring protections and placing wards and boundaries, I thought for sure any spillover or blow back, would be minor and unsubstantial. Ahh the arrogance of the Tower. Not my tale to tell though, until the children are ready to tell it themselves.
So, here we have a cycle of woe. One that repeatedly appears and requires healing over time. Its original source is not yet apparent to me. Perhaps you may recognise patterns of demise within your own life. Cycles of ill fortune or woe, that come around as repeatedly as the Wheel of Fortune.
Over the next wee while, I am going to break apart the sections of;
I’m going to write on the systems and ways I have used to resolve them, Shadow Work, Magick and practical 3d advice. I’m going to show you how, next time an Archontic Bill arrives, instead of sucking your breath in, you can laugh and know that that Bill would not have arrived, if something did not have faith that you could pay it. And be genuinely pleased about that.
I'm going to show how you can recognise "cycles of demise" over time, mitigate their effects and move from strength to strength, no matter your current environment. Not everything that happens to us is our "fault". But you can certainly learn to run with the wind and get those gales blowing you forward, into your dreams, your life, your joy, if you choose.
Throwing life lines, in peace, strength and love.
,All through my life, all places I have grown. I have and have been around, Wylding.
A piece of land, left. No touching, no entering, no interference by family at all. If an animal wonders in, well, that is their choice. But no child, no Grand Ma and no me, permitted. Yes, thoughts count and should not be directed there either.
For me, in order to feel free, I have a space, a space within where I go to explore, lift, sometimes, entertain, thoughts very deep and to me fearful, but always private. It is my space though, and no hook, no thing, may enter. I am a Sovereign Soul. This space within, is in a way, my Wylding.
Within my yard. Off vision, you mightn't naturally find this area. O.k. so some of my friends might pick this spot, quickly. There is a place, where lawnmower is banned, roundup warded (actually whole property) and no one, may enter. This is my garden Wylding. I don't know if any one lives there. I don't pry, too much, as privacy, a place to breathe, to hang out and be, is a necessity for anyone, or thing, in surviving the stress of this world. I wonder if these places, the Wyldings, are not sometimes, places where beings too old to bear it any more, go to sleep. Sometimes forever.
As a child the Wylding, was magickal. No I never, shhhh, but in Kaiuma, between the house and the creek, where the creek forked, the Wylding, softly hid. Here, it was protected, by clever paths around, easier, better, more to see, shiny magpie things, that led around, rather than through. One never entered, for the wood here was strange, not that I would know. Finding ways between the dense wet ferns, flax and colonialism, perhaps, gorse, was icky and ouchy. And one would of had to squiggle and really wriggle, through prickles, woody manuka and wet and wetas. But if one were really in need of hiding, in need of a, can't be found space, then perhaps, one might enter. One might find other beings there too.
Around the home, at Grand Ma's Past the sheds, past the plum, the potatoes, turn, eat at the peas, skip on past the hedge, approach the walnuts and shh for here were the bees. Bees require a flight path, a way of leaving and returning home. so clever are these, so ouchy, one must be sure permission is asked, before one passes softly by. And there, between two hedges, guarded by bees, whom I never saw enter. Again, a Wylding. This one I never entered, it was still to close to home, one should never hide in the same place twice, if one truly does not wish to be found. And though more meadow and scented sweet than Kaiuma, this Grand Ma's Wylding existed through mans desire. Whereas Kaiuma existed because it was clever, most simply didn't see it.
My home now, New, only 1890's or so, much played with, surrounded by suburbia. Flown over by increasing air traffic, and seven years old, though pacts have been broke, two years rededicated. A beehive awaiting a Queen. No offerings, no noticing, no weedeating, no threat of poison, barely a glance, a Wylding.
In peace, strength and love
"And so it was, there came a time. A time that was, and a time that was always before.
The Dream World, the world of battles. The waking world, the realm, where battles, not fought, became real.
Many different the ways of then and now, still the battle truths remain. There were those who thought themselves, stealthy good Warders and Knights of the way, and offering of esteem was granted these beings.
“Let me! Let me fight for you. I will dedicate my life, you will dedicate my upkeep, and the victories shall be ours.” had been the subtle bargain. Knights of the way had no time to plow, all energy on winning within the land of the dreams was spent. The Knights, powerful and the people at peace.
Gratitude and offering the response. For who would not let others fight their battles? Freed from responsibility of self, so much more could be done! The least of which, the offerings of gratitude, were surely /' a pleasure to pay.
Time moved on and the Knights of the way, so involved in their skill, taken care of by all, became lost, to that world of dreams. So well did they battle, behind closed eyes, nothing harmful became real. Within the waking world, peace reigned, joy flourished and the tributes flowed. The skill of the personal dream, lost, in visions of safety.
None new learned the battle skills. The enemy, the reason for dreaming, forgotten.
Yet, within the dream, shadows and lurkers, gathered, their plans laid, learnt and studied long ago, improved upon, evolved. To few were the Knights to intercept, the soft subtle tendrils. As soft as butter, defenses melted before the shadow mass, of darkness, wreathed with mares. To few, were the Dream Warriors, to stem the tide. No new to replace the lost. The awake realm still seeing peace, yet the world of the dream, was changing.
With stealth, grace, deadly rage in check, the Shadow horde creeping, advanced. Snatching, the odd unaware, to study. Tentacles probing, testing the sleeping awake, as they rested, without fear, without protection. The longer the waking slept without ward, the better. Who knew what would happen?
Should these sleepers awake, to the depths, the deceptions, of this dreaming?
Lines were spun, could be’s, should be’s and would be’s, yet, none of the lines were spun true. Long had the dream realm studied, and well did they know their tasks.
To live, one must be present, within the dream and awake and it was for this the shadows had practiced. In the sleeping world of the awake, thoughts of false Knights were planted. The offerings, long forgotten, real reason forlorn, treasure for the Horde to use and plunder, battle tokens.
An inversion had begun, an invasion of twisting ways, so subtle in calling, the wake peoples under gentle (at first) control, became vassals. Enlivening the dreams and plans, which the shadows, had cunningly hidden, in the awaken-eds very midst, their minds. Yes, these beings were awakened, but they were no longer aware.
And so it was, the Shadow Hordes usurped the waken realm, creeping crawling through minds, bridging through sleep, into waking lives. Seeding, breeding, lines of not quite true. Subtle was the advance, softly, softly least the untouched realise. Gently, beguilingly least the bridged, break free. The shadows arrived, made real, manifested.
If only an awake were to take back the dream, from before the Knight, when the awakened realm was aware and faced the battles in the dream, individually, self responsible, where would the realm be?
Ahh, but such dreams are confusing and nonsense.
A tide can not be turned back. Yet just as the wood fuels the fire, it is the charcoal that nourishes the earth. What grows in the bare land beneath the unused fire pit? Well, first come the quickest, then the fittest, seeds of course, you may know them as weeds. Yet, every now and then, we find a tree in this midst. A tree whose roots, reach outside the fireside, new shoots, beneath and through the scorched earth, nurtured and fed by the dying ‘weeds’ the tree shall in turn overgrow. The weeds, are they sacrificial? Or are they giving? fulfilling their nature, to become nature, contained within the tree? Individuals united by place.
I wonder now, who is winning, within this realm, at this moment, the shadows, ever reaching realness? Perhaps, winning is a wrong perception. Perhaps the awake will once again step forth and true battles shall be hosted, where true lore made them be. Within the dream. The place where all bodily forms are equal, as only one energy is worn.
In peace, strength and love,
I have communed with some wonderful people this week, I have prayed for people past and intentioned for a more peaceful world with a higher standard of behaviour and I have of course received the bill for it.
A wise man once said “they only give you bills because, 'they' know you can pay them”. Not knowing how they are to be paid is half the fun. There were a couple of times this week, I have not hit the wall, so much a been under it when it fell. We are not even into a week past the disseminating moon. MMm Broadcast! Appropriate possibly, for the week that has flown past my News Feeds. I am, however smokng less, without thinking about it. Thank you Champix, the dreams are an extraordinary side effect. No I’m not going to bore you with mine. Instead I’m going to bore you with a touch of synchronious cycles as repeated over time and peoples responses to it like “Get a Lawyer”.
Here Tom gives some great tips on Saturn as it touches the varying planets and their Archetypes, over the next wee while.
Remember, planets are huge things. They are Ancestors holding the stories of Eons. Planets are touching your bubble somewhere, until you navigate your own way beyond them. Nobody should stand between you, and your connection to whatever your definition of Universal energy is. There are many ways to help you become more in touch with you, astrology is but one. Tarot is part of mine.
So, who are 'they'? I call them, 'industries of death’, to others, I think corporation, is the word. One of my big eyeopeners? A piece of me, was Used, Copied, and artificially constructed into 'the system'. Pretty soon you won’t be able to hear where I end, and the AI starts. Mmm that Artificial I.
I was working for Mitel Telecommunications, (somebody knows the year), Tone Borren was the front man in charge. I guess this must of been in the “80’s. Good service may have been hard to find, good acid was not. I was on reception, under Dorothy.
I loved Dorothy, she was small, petite and always a lady. I think. she was also good at her job, I’m not sure she had the respect of some of the other office workers. I admired her. Now this was my second job in Wellington, the first one had been for Ruskin engineering. A real con or something job. Another time.
Mitel, were the company who had the training budget. At this stage companies were still outsourcing training to other companies. I was on one of the first ‘Word’ Processing courses in Wellington for e.g. But I was hired by Mitel as a receptionist. Someone threw typing in for good measure, I would never put typing within my resume.
Reception always has a special place in my heart. It is not just the soothing voice over the phone, as another breaths fire, because they need answers now! It is the eye contact, the slight smile, the please… and the understanding that the person in your face is worth two on the phone. And yes, that was an economics thing. Slowly this became inverted, the phone became more important, people realised connectivity led the way to greater production, and I helped take the human touch out of the equation.
“Good Morning. Mitel Telecommunications, how may I help.
Certainly, one moment please
I am sorry Mr, is out at the moment, may I take a message?”
Or “Mr it’s Mr on the line, putting him through now.”
Because a good reception is the hub of the building. I didn’t need to ask questions of, who was already on a phone call, in a meeting, in the building, or when a team member would be a available, because I already knew. A good receptionist is the diary holder for every one under her care. Or was, and my part? Golly, I get the hated part.
You know how you phone a company, and you get a recording, that directs you to List one, which directs you to List two, and so on? Yup, My boss, sitting, watching me in action.
My fault really, I had my own priority codes. Acknowledgement of anyone entering the building, noting who was out. Answering the phones, answering inquiries. Every employee was secondary to the phone, we were a telecommunications company. And this was the age of the Swich, from analogue to digital, from pen and paper to onscreen, instant access.
One day Tone came to the desk, with a really simple, possibly, requirement? Didn’t matter I was on the phone, I acknowledged him, held my call said “I will be with you as soon as possible”. I then proceeded to take calls, at a rate of, well, I bet Tone knew, he was very good at math. For the next twenty minutes, full on, no stop, continual, hello, hold, etc but with full script. Yes, after 5 minutes or so of the constant call swell, I probably did sound a touch mechanical, but I swear I kept my smile. And that, you could hear, down the lines.
My policy was to send a person through the hold loop, if another call came in whilst I was in the “good morning” part of the greet, then my script would change to “Good morning, Mitel Telecommunications, I’m sorry about the wait, please hold the line. I couldn’t park anyone, the beauty of the initial Super Set, was all calls filtered back to reception. I would then catch them with, “hi, I’m sorry about the wait. How may I help?” That’s all people want when they phone a company. To be helped, isn’t it? “The method of how they are helped shouldn’t matter, as long as the calls get to where they are going.” I can almost hear Mr Borren’s analytical mind clicking away.
I guess Tone didn’t mean to inflict us with a system, that would cause so much stress, he may even of thought he was “helping” the receptionist of some poor firm. Keeping her safe from irate vibes of incoming wrath. He simply forgot, maybe, helping is what receptionists and indeed people, do, for each other. We like to help, people are not problems, they have problems. Therefore people, are not problems that need solving. And when you have a problem, the reassurance wanted is not that of a long list of robot voices, or a recorded voice breaking in intermittently, over supposed to pacify (the advertising said so) music. What you want is a person, a reassuring voice, that lets you know, whilst help may not be here, it is, at hand.
The SuperSet 7 and DSX, bring in Erick from Bell, and boom, revolutionary digital automated switch boards, from dialing to service done, with out a person in between. The “face” taken out of the company.
To be honest it was probably the best thing for companies, to get rid of faces. Because people were becoming increasingly hard to handle. The cry since forever “Good Service is hard to find.” It certainly led to an employment incarnation I had as a "Crisis Intervention Specialist".
A now essential role, through the ongoing, with ever more complexity, Service Contract. The battle of ‘YOU WORK FOR ME’. The reason I became a sovereign soul.
The veils of ‘ownership’ and the weaponisation of the right to live, for no other reason than, because you were born. No joy, passion, or freedom allowed in the toil for subsistence. Except for the few. A huge, thought leap, perhaps even a paradigm shift, in being forced to serve, and the right to contribute. Watching money become the price of contribution, has been very enlightening indeed. And brings me back to the, synchronicity over time. I have noticed a pattern.
An animal becomes ill, clients disappear or schedules become incompatible, cyber stuff happens, then an 'industry of death' notice finds it's way to my mail box. Luckily this one, at only $150 000. is less than half of the last, at $350 000. The fourth such cycle in six years and somebody trusts, that before I die I will have a spare half a million travelling, from my direction to theirs. Why? because the "Get a Lawyer" made it so.
I have had the most amazing Equinox, I hope you have too.
Part of my amazement lies around the Synchronicities that surround me at the moment. I have been into and listening to a gentleman Paul Weston for a while. An amazing man with an amazing life. This video is a brief intro into Paul and what he does.
Now Paul started writing a one line style code diary, in his youth. What he found was, he would be doing things on a day, and when he looked at past diaries, there was some relevance to what he had written in the past. A synch cycle. And so Paul began to play with replicating, maybe, in some small way, bits of past and before he knew the Magick surrounding him grew.
Well I was not a good journal keeper, so going back to past years etc would not have been possible without Facebook. I have only been on line for 6 or so years but there is enough there, that I am starting to recognise some interesting synch cycles, within my own life. And they have been wow, a revelation. I seldom talk ego, but when I do it appears to be on the 22 of September, for example. The mind boggles as to what might have happened if that were the focus of my blog that day. But any hoo.
So, there is one form of synchronicity, that of 'time cycles'. Another form of synch that happens for me with the help of AI is that of 'synchronicity of information'. I will meditate, come up with the most strange thoughts and then, bingo on YouTube or Facebook, corroborating information. Sometimes, the information isn’t as far along down a thought stream as I am, but it is heading there. At other times the information is like it has been pulled Straight from Source and delivered without much alteration into the vision of many.
So back to my Equinox experience. I was looking within and had gone into meditation with the requirement of some answers. I have used a phrase several times lately that whilst I love the intention of I feel, if we are coming from a loving place, really does not express the depth of seriousness of the concept. Turns the concept into a guilt trip, rather than the offer it truly is. We are all coming from what we know at that time, right?
I’m a Sovereign Soul, trying not to be hooked back into that Matrix. Avoiding Ascended Masters and “God” programming like the plague, yet I have this fundamental belief in love and supporting others to be who they want to be. I love the principles of this, but I really dislike the wording, so I entered meditation to find out what the gist was with “Service to Self” and “Service to Others”.
Answers arrived within moments. The duality, the service, the programme of shame. A Hegelian dialectic of separation that pits one section of human as ‘selfish’ and the other as ‘martyr’. Do we need to get into the connotations of ‘service’? No slaves here. The ‘God” programme of shame for those who are in a space, whereby it is necessary to concentrate on self. So there was my answer to the problem. Beautiful, I am most grateful Back into meditation, back to Source, for the solution. Nothing. This is where the synchs began.
I opened my email and there first up I was being asked to “contribute” to a good cause. No bells did not ring. I began reading a blog, it was asking if we were “contributing” enough to our communities, a little ding. Then I went to YouTube and started watching a Part II episode of someone called George Kavissalas. Hadn't heard of hime before, I was chuckling in moments (who watches a second part without the first? Ummm me). But this was boom time, Albert actually asked George about Service to Others and George says “I prefer to use contribute”.
As soon as I felt into this, as soon as I heard, I knew, this was my answer. Feel the difference, Service to Self, Contribute to Self, Service to Others, Contribute to Others and how about Contribute with Others. Can you feel the difference there? The allowance to give yourself, what you need at any given time without the judgement? The allowance to give to others, without the connotation of being a slave or subservient? Mmm Mmm my heart glowed.
You cannot make this stuff up. Part one is “Moving Beyond the God Matrix”. I haven’t listened to Part One yet, but if part two resonates so well, I will treat myself. A little note in here, I’m not saying there is not an original creator, just that whatever is going on with the “God” of this matrix is pretty fucked up.
Sept 15 to 29 Mars and Lilith
I am not an, everything is from or about you person. I’m not sure how any child, who has had a hard child hood, could be. There are things that impact upon our world and ourselves regardless of how many good thoughts we convince ourselves we are thinking.
I’ve been looking closely at Ascension and what that means and 5d. Ascension means to overcome, 5d is a new way of being where the lowest vibration is love. So how do we get there?
With regards 5d. In 3d we are sold a bill of goods around polarity, and duality, yin and yang, the dark and the light, balance. As if these concepts of opposites are facts, and these concepts are used to justify levels of pain as “lessons”. Another justification of not having a beautiful safe and loving world for children is, ”you choose this before you come to this 3d realm”. Well, many of us didn’t choose this level of being to perpetuate it, we came to change this paradigm, and to change it we must be sure and firm of the concepts we came to change, the justification of Polarity being one of those.
“If you want to find the secrets of the Universe think in terms of energy, vibration and frequency.”
What does this mean? Simply and in a nut shell, it means that every emotion, object or sound within our universe has a different level (we could look at this as a line) of existence. When these levels of existence meet, as they do within each being, they become a wave. The more your emotions fluctuate, the more disparate the sound sources, for example, the more your wave will fluctuate or oscillate. So within the polarity construct, the thought seems to be you must swing between evil and good actions, within emotion, love and hate. Make no mistake emotions are measurable amounts of energy and each one has it’s own level of vibration.
Though, it is possible to have many feelings around something, we only feel one of these emotions at a time, and then with varying levels of intensity.
In moving into a 5d lowest vibration love, it is necessary to clear the emotional field of any heavy or dense emotions. And here is where a point of contention arises.
There seems to be several groups of thinking around the clearance of lower vibrational emotions and how to stabilise oneself once, the higher emotional levels are reached.
My personal bias, of what has worked for me, is not a popular one, as it involves experiencing the experiences that caused pain and discomfort in earlier times, until the energy around them has dissipated. As perspective is altered through the alchemy of this method, when listening to or reading of other experiences, nothing but love, and compassion remain. I am leaving Empathy out of this article, as empathy is a double-edged sword, something that is natural for most humans, now weaponised. I have found the method of Shadow Work to be the most stabilising over time. I have tried many methods.
Another aspect of Ascension is that of Service to Others as opposed to Service to Self. Again, I see a lot of bogus information around this concept. In its simplest form this concept translates as “learn once, teach two”. Whenever you find a new way of being that has helped you overcome and heal, or a have a true knowing come through you “In Sovereignty” (a deep ascension principle many are yet unready to hear) share that knowing.
Whether you recognise it or not, we human are evolving. Our consciousness is expanding, learning to network with others over distance, as many recognise failings (perhaps deliberate) within their communities, is a simple proof of this. As knowledge spreads it becomes more and more apparent that halting the breaking of our families, children and communities is paramount for peace for all. To stop the cycles of violence and abuse, it is essential for those of us who recognise a more beautiful existence, for all (no greater good here) to heal and become role models in turn. We are within this transition and I salute you.
8 mins · I am going to take my longer musings away from facebook. They really are designed for me and I don't want to get repetitive or be upsetting and I really need to grow my out reach. I really do love you guys and this platform. Many of you read my poem the other day and I enjoyed the ensuing conversation.
FB is no place for friendships of growth or intimacy.
It is a list of floating memes,
That have no place in reality"
It was a conversation between many. Each giving voice to their own opinion. As such I'm a little torn as I recognise I want more of that. Though I would prefer Face to Face.
Not always problem solving either, but shooting the shit and having a laugh, even, over wine and cheese.
I used to laugh at those memes and films of people having dinner with their virtual friends, now though, I understand and can relate. The reworking of technologies to the point where once again we have true communities, even at a distance excites me (though naturally I would rather meet in person).
LMH has a wonderful model for this and I think the Unf**kit Community does too. Though something called Discord is not my jam and I found it incredibly hard to work, I guess I will have to expand and adjust and find new ways.
I do have a very particular skill set ;) and it is not being wasted here, but I feel I could do more, and be there for others who have needs, and you guys are just so gosh darn awesome and together.
I'd appreciate if you could think of any other platforms, whereby I could extend my own particular brand of Caring and let me know.
I realise many of you don't even know I'm a trained Crisis Intervention Specialist, as well as Life Coach specialising in Childhood Sexual Abuse. That's ok discretion is always key. I love Magick and empathy and you will find a lot of highly sensitive people were also abused, which is why I took that angle. Tarot is a great way to break ice and a great income source (plus I love and am really good with the cards). But I do want to be there for those who were as broken as I was, before I began the Shadow Work path. And this path has become incredibly difficult to support people to walk upon, as there are so many bright flickering objects, drawing their attention, away from pain they don't want to face, into a world of suppression and projection. "It's all just a Story", being my favourite sarcastic tongue in cheek line.
We find the dark, we face it, we transmute it, and we rise. Each time with more stability and greater depths of healing and understanding. Sexual abuse is not a "fix" model to wellness, nor a quick one, yet when supported to heal survivors have bottomless wells of joy, compassion and strength available to them. Any one who has not undergone such situations, may have trouble comprehending just how incredible survivors are.
So, If it's ok with you, I will post my blog on here for those of you that want to read it. Other than that though, sailing into the wide blue yonder. Expansion time. Of course I will still be here, I'm a meme addict and I enjoy catching up with what is going on. But long rambling thoughts such as these, well I'm a dinosaur watching the meteorite hit in. <3
Much, much love
I am very aware I should be “going live” in order to impart the information I wish to impart. The world has moved on from the written word and at times I feel like a dinosaur watching the incoming meteorite.
I see many hurt people within my daily life. They come to me for readings, advice, occasionally the odd spell, but mainly people come to me to be heard. To be heard, validated and believed. Every soul that passes through my portals has their own individual unique story, some have lived their own slice of hell.
What is disturbing, to me, is that the stories can be grouped into classes or sets and most of them are set in childhood or teenage years and the way these people were treated. The impacts reflect upon their lives now, where their lives might have gone, and the grief is huge. As an adult it is a continual thorn in my side, that these abuses are happening to our children still.
I have been watching some very brave people come forth and relate their stories, some incredibly horrific stories. I have listened and witnessed as these people have named names, been before Commissions of Enquiry, Courts etc and watched as the media have sidestepped, Governments have buried and normal people have scorned in disbelief, the testimonies and the acts.
Through the stories and within my life I have learned a lot, certain things trigger me deeply. The very real pieces of abused lives perpetuated upon the powerless being referred to as “Dirty Laundry” is one, the “Saviour” meme is another. Within the dirty laundry meme, we have all shame and guilt repressed and blame placed upon the survivor. What a way to shut people up and down. Within the “Saviour” meme, I see a way of removing from self an “I’m not here to save the world” that is a product of the individuated times in which we live. For no, you are not here to save the world, but you are certainly here to help your fellow man and be a part of creating a more loving world.
There is a big difference between being there and listening, supporting someone as they grow and heal and saving them. You can throw a drowning person a rope, they still must catch it. And that is where I am at. I am throwing ropes.
Times are a changing, the dinosaur allegory, “Service to Self” or "Service to Others". Both roads to somewhere.
Much, much love.
It’s a strange thing money. It has a mythical appeal and repel quality. The familial tales and myths around money are epic. Each generation, reinforces codices of action and behaviour around wealth. But here is the real truth. If you weren’t born with family money, you are unlikely to get any to a higher level than your parents.
Oh yes, I know, I have heard them all…It’s how hard you work, it’s how you flow, it’s destroying those limiting beliefs, thinking abundant thoughts yada yada, blah blah blah, all stories, all bull shit.
One of the greatest deceptions I can see upon the world is that of the “Class System”. The level of income you are achieving designates your class, poor white trailer trash, lower income, blue collar, middle class professional too Elite, it doesn’t matter, these are the deceptive classes used to hide the great deception, that of Caste. The world is run and controlled through vertical lines of what you do, not horizontal lines of what you make. If you learn this lesson and learn it well, you will go far and possibly grow rich.
Now I was sexually abused from an early age. The situations generated around this, the feelings of guilt, shame, the crimes I in turn perpetuated, all had one true and hidden goal. The goal of keeping me within the “criminal subset”. I could have been a great politician or athlete, but by the time I was 10 the situations I had been in and party too, already precluded a sidestep into the legal world. Upon the underworld I would rise, fail or go to jail. I haven’t been to jail, which shows you just what a good little criminal I became, and within those ranks I could of ridden very high indeed.
Every time I tried to step away out from under a “strange attractor” would force it’s way in and I would be knocked back into the world of the illegal, until there was nothing but illegal for me to do. I became well trained, through fear, trauma and my own indelible well of hell.
The training to remain within ones caste ranges from subtle to highly invasive. The subtle is to write on drugs, prostitution and money and have your “friends” walk away, using justifications of “it’s in the past” or “I can’t be associated with that”. That’s a whole new level of denying ones being and validity as a person, watch as the real me shrinks back into shape. To the real heavy hits, this is the overdose of drugs, in the back of a car winding up in a different town, working in a whore house, kind of stuff, or the “we got the dirt on you, we’ll nark you out” (particularly effective when one has four kids).
Your, keep you in the Caste line, may be different, your circumstances are individual and unique to you. But if you are trying to change your life, move into another career, gain more wealth and keep meeting what the “New Age” terms resistance, then I would counsel you to look at your lines. Your vertical caste lines of what you were born and raised to be, rather than the class lines of money. It is very possible to ride to the top of your field, easily, as soon as you recognise what that field is and what is stopping you from plowing it.
I became a very well paid call girl, making my way up the ranks from seedy massage parlor to "High Class", then **** salesperson (still illegal here) working my way from foils to pounds and now I have a wonderful coaching and tarot business, whereby I get to support others to rise and be whole.
I have successfully navigated the side step. It took for me to realise that the ceiling is not above us, it is the walls that surround us, that stop our expansion.
In peace, strength and love.
Own it like the boss you are.
THE STRENGTH TO MOVE FORWARD
When you have played in the ocean and lost a fin to the sharks, how do you move beyond the puddle you have retracted too in safety?
There have been several periods in my life, where I have flown, soared with the birds, worn silk and before it was "Totally" unfashionable, fur!
Gees I looked good. I'm not a natural beauty, but bear in mind my goals when I entered Solway College, at 12, were to be an opera singer, a ballet dancer or a first rate whore. And I had failed at the first two.
Into the Telecom and Training area I drifted. I learned word processing for that company, on the most bizarre two-day training course. From hardly seeing a computer, to typing and editing on one, complete with Fkeys in two days, umm ('87, think on p.c's back then...had you heard of one?)
Another training course I went on was incredibly different. It was the Academy of Elegance, 12 week 'finishing school' for ladies. I learned to shade my face (it's all about the triangles), walk. sit, get in and out of a limo elegantly...if certain young song stars had of taken that lesson it would've saved a lot of eyes from unsolicited beaver shots.
The highlight at the end of the course was "The Walk".
We had two walks to learn, involving make up and clothing changes, to be performed, at the end of the course, before Invitees and Academy Guests. As a special prize, the girl who had graduated highest, would receive the Golden Rose. A lapel pin of... a gold rose.
Gees I wanted that rose.
You see at this stage I was still thinking I was going to meet a wonderful rich man and we were going to waltz away under a sky of stars. He would lift me up marble steps where we sigh longingly before gasping to fulfilment, on silken sheets, under the canopy of the four poster. My natural shine would be allowed to come through and we would walk hand in hand, delivering love through the land.
And yes, I was on drugs most of the time.
Each week the lexicon of lessons was incorporated into life, practiced upon over the week and added to, like the most wonderful serial magazine. I missed one week over the time and it was "The Walks", we had already learned how to walk but this was the choreography for the End Show walk. Now I'm pretty bright and I do pick up things quite well, but these walks were tricky. step step half turn, step step pivot, kinda stuff and there were two of them, I did practice. Not being there for the initial lesson though, I was always slightly unsure on how the steps went and I did not have the confidence to ask the tutor, of whom I was in awe.
So finally, the night of graduation arrived. I did not have a guest, as everyone I knew thought it a pointless waste of time of a class. 9-5 was their life and the more I grew my butterfly wings, the more insignificant in their eyes I became. This course wasn't about looks for me though, it was about restoring confidence in a beauty that had been traded upon since childhood. A way of reawakening my hopes and dreams for the future. A more beautiful, self made future. How do we make the pictures if not through experience?
Which is precisely where I fell down. No, I did not fall, but I failed.
I looked so good, on that final night, I had shopped, plucked, waxed and shaved. Shaded, perfumed, buffed and teased, I sauntered through that room, up the middle catwalk steps I siddled (cause that's what you do, in heels, walking up steps, you place your feet slightly sideways, so the whole shoe is on the step and you glide upon slightly bent knee with back straight, shoulders relaxed and head, erect from, the crown) ;p I got to the top of the steps with the wrong foot forward, I pivoted instead of turning, was facing the wrong direction and flubbed it. If there were not 12 other girls who had all successfully turned the right way, it would not of mattered, but there were and it did.
There in the midst of Ambassadors, beauty queens and photographers, I Royally gaffed.
I didn’t get the Rose, but after 12 weeks with this crowd I had not expected to. The fundamental difference between them and me was well apparent by week three. To these gossamer wrapped and fledged, more gold than silver spoon fed monarchs, I was toxic. Perhaps tainted is a better word, they had a beautiful world and I wanted in. It was their duty to protect it, from riff raff like me.
Everything I learned, I had learned from grudging smiles, under raised noses, with little side serves of malice. Like the expensive foundation choice of wrong tone. Or the Winter when one is a Summer. I loved what I had learned wanted to put the lessons into practice, but something had ignited within, a desire hidden as money. The energy of money. When it is not actualy money you want but the things money can buy. I wanted that security, of never having to worry about the power bill, the rent, making a wrong foundation choice, good scents and textiles around me, colourful people and laughter.
Inside I left the whole experience feeling more unworthy than ever. 9-5 wasn’t working for me, drugs were and in the not too distant future I would end up in a massage parlour in Auckland.
So how does one move beyond the puddle of ones safety? I can see two choices. One can cry so many tears the puddle overflows and becomes a flood, or one can dig a canal from the puddle to the closest water source, even if it’s a sewer and one can float like poop “down to where the river meets the sea”.
I’m pondering my choice.
In peace, strength and love.
Simply My Thoughts