Friends, I have a problem.
And by that, I mean I have a Princess Problem.
Also affectionately referred to as a Champagne Problem.
(“First World Problem” is a little too mainstream for me.)
And that problem is that I don’t currently have any problems, and I therefore have very little “helpful” or “important” stuff to write about.
Let’s be clear: I’m generally a content person, and I don’t look for trouble. But trouble is so much more interesting to write about!
So this would be a completely ideal time for me to have pre-planned posts, but that’s not really how I roll and the only books I’ve read recently are fiction (young adult fiction, if I’m being honest), which is not really the kind of stuff I want to review here.
So I’ve decided to type up some of the journal entries I did a few weeks ago. I was bought into the idea of death, so I decided to treat myself every morning the way I’d like a new lover to treat me: with loving inquiry, just trying to get to know me better. And I’d ask myself questions and just see the answers. Sometimes the voice gave me a name, and sometimes not. My words are in regular text, and hers are in bold.
So if you ever wonder what I’m scribbling all the time, this is generally what’s happening. (Also, if you ever see me in my car and it looks like I’m talking on bluetooth, I’m not. I’m talking to myself.)
January 14, 2014
I think the main thing to “do” is to ask myself. Ask my new self. Come back to the body. What does the soft animal of my heart need and desire? Maybe this is an everyday practice, like the meditating fairy dressers*. Maybe just as I want to create my day I need to create myself. And by “create” I mean “discover.” Get to know. Like the partner of my dreams. What questions would I like to be asked? Can we give it a go, my raven?
What’s your name?
I like Raven. It’s dark, mystical, instinctual.
I’m honored to witness you, Raven. Sorry, my pen keeps tripping over itself. I must say, now that we’re here I don’t even know what to ask. All the “traditional” questions people use to get to know each other seem inadequate. What do you know, Raven?
I know that this is a good exercise. I know that a home in the foothills of a mountain range calls to you. I know that Paris… well, I get a sense of the Paris you dreamed of last night. No conclusions yet. I know that we are the same. I know that searching for eternity is a beautiful path. I know that Truth is universal and different for everyone, all at the same time. Paradox. I see bright, starry skies and fields of… wheat, maybe? That’s all at the moment.
Thank you, Raven. I feel better knowing we can talk. I just feel like I need to DO something. I think I’m ready to evolve, but I think I’m afraid of evolving the way I have done, which is a scorched earth policy. I promised M___ I’d stay here [in Pittsburgh]. I like coaching. I want to be here.
You can stay here if you want. You just have to choose it. That’s the piece you missed before: the awakened choice. The Right People will find you. So your location is largely dependent on your preferences. But you need to ask. The reason your instincts have always kicked in so loudly with men is because you weren’t truly checking in. Our only option was to go into panic mode. We want to be safe and wild, so your job is to do just that: get to know us. Ask. Inquire. Protect. Let us protect you. We will evolve as needed. Stay with me.
I see now that I was worried about losing choice. I equated choice with control. But they’re not the same at all!
Yes, my darling. you’re right. And just like Dr. S_______ pointed out, controlling things into existence isn’t really the same as creation. To equate them diminishes your capacity.
January 15, 2014
Good morning. I’ve decided to use different colored pens for us so I can read back later without confusion.
Don’t lie to me. You’re never confused when you reread these conversations. You’re thinking of the stranger who finds these notebooks and wants to publish them. You’re still waiting for legitimacy in the eyes of others. That’s still how you think success comes.
You’re right. Of course. And about how I see success coming. But don’t I have to get other people to like me and respect me? If success is people buying my stuff, I need people.
Is success having people buy your stuff? [arches eyebrow]
It’s not supposed to be. But I don’t see how else to define it. I’m fulfilled by my work. But fulfillment somehow doesn’t matter the same way. Or, it’s like a tollbooth to pass, not a destination. But “helping people” is so clichéd and not really my goal at all. I guess I don’t really know what my goal is. Just exploration, really. Growth and consciousness. But not in a “change the world” way. In a “Let me shed some light on this situation” while everyone is doing their homework kind of way.** What are your thoughts?
No thoughts. That’s a good start for you. Keep letting that question marinate. Because you’re right that we can’t really “help” others by changing things; all we can do is create energy. It matters what kind of energy you radiate, but not in an inherently service-oriented way. Or rather, not in an actively service-oriented way.
Your serving yourself creates energy. And that energy may impact someone else, it may not. But the lake doesn’t reflect the flying geese for the geese, just like the geese don’t fly over the lake simply for the reflection.
Your definition of success implies a certain type of economics; one where every action has an ulterior motive. That’s not for you to worry about. Not today, anyway. Becoming famous isn’t the only way to meet your dream man 🙂
Haha. You caught me. It sounds stupid, to put all those dreams on a celebrity that doesn’t know I exist.
You don’t know whether your man exists. Or how. It’s not stupid to fantasize; that’s how we get very valuable information. It’s how you met me: by creating Methusela***.
I just don’t know how real life can give me my desires. It seems like it’s better to just blatantly fantasize rather than put faith in real life.
So fantasy is an escape for you. A way to avoid the inevitable shortcomings of the Universe.
Right. If I can’t imagine it, how could I know it in real life?
If you’re sure it doesn’t exist, how will you recognize it at all?
[squirms uncomfortably] I guess I walked right into that one, huh?
You’re always walking into the Truth, my love. But you don’t see it till you’re ready. You’re still afraid that giving up control means giving up free will. You try to create choice by giving yourself all the power over creation. Or, you think that’s creation. It’s just like that movie Inception, about creating a dream world. It’s not life. It’s not bad. It just is, and you must view it for what it is.
But you may never have control again. And you’ll still have choice. That’s the letting go, the trusting that you’re still allowed to have choices and preferences and fantasies even when you give up control.
In words it’s so easy. But making that leap is hard.
It seems so.
But how do I get from here to there? Practically, I mean.
[laughs] Practically, you trust. And you die. Metaphorically, you die. The only way out is through. You must die. That’s the only step to take.
And you can only recreate yourself when you’re through. you can’t take it with you. You may emerge male. Young. Old. A new ethnicity. A new religion. A chameleon. A raven. A space explorer. You’ll be naked and alone, and you’ll have to create yourself.
Is that why babies are born crying? Are they naked and alone and full of memories?
Protest is a sign of life. Acceptance is a sign of death.
Jesus H Roosevelt Christ, you’re wise.
Ha. I’ve been doing this for a long time. It gets easier and harder every time.
Ok. I’m naked and alone. What should I call myself?
What do I know today?
You try certain things. Imagine them in your mind. Today let the world touch you. Notice how porous your membranes are. Let the Universe play with you, delight in you, and touch you.
Thank you. Anything else?
You’re naked and alone. Do you still have choice? Think on that one today. What are you able to trust? What do you feel? Physically, psychically, emotionally, mentally, instinctually?
Thank you. Anything else?
Ask yourself, “What would like to be released?” Write on that later.
Thank you. Anything else?
Keep warm, Selene.
Thank you. You too.
* Fairy Dressers: So a few years ago I was doing this meditation that involved cleansing my aura. And as I was doing that, trying to clean it out, shore up the weak spots, these fairies showed up to help me get dressed. And they’d hold up clothes for me, and tell me the quality of the clothes. Like, one day they handed me a chartreuse lingerie set, and said that was for cheerful irreverence. And on top of that I was to wear a lapis-colored wrap dress, for sovereignty. And snakeskin heels, for elegance. All metaphorical, of course. And it was a hilarious several weeks of them dressing me in the morning so that I knew what qualities I needed for the day.
** This is one of my clearest memories of my Dad from when I was a kid. I’d start doing homework when I didn’t need to have a light on, and a few hours would go by without my noticing, and it would be dark. My dad would pop his head in to check on me and say, “Let me shed some light on this situation!” and flip the light switch.
*** Methusela: I really love the show Supernatural, and so I was debating which supernatural creature I’d like to be if I ever appeared on the show. I decided on Methuselah, who I’ve since found out is male in the Bible. I remember reading the phrase, “Some days I feel as old as Methuselah” when I was a kid and I’ve never forgotten it. So I decided this character would die and come immediately back to life, almost like The Doctor except that they’d restart as a baby. S/he’d remember her previous lives the way I remember my previous ages. I was really fascinated with the idea of an eternal being. What qualities s/he’d possess, the choices s/he’d make, how s/he’d decorate her home, the clothes s/he’d wear, etc.