All occult practices warn against delving into these territories without sufficient guidance. Beware, they say, lest these energies consume you. Enter not into the realm of the spirits until you have earned your sword and shield.
I did not mean to write what follows. I intended to share a Tarot reading from yesterday. But I started by writing a brief paragraph providing context for it. Then all the words below happened.
One more pre-note: This is messy, incomplete, and un-edited. Because I'm figuring this all out as I go and I want to present it to you as it comes to me.
I began this blog to write about my recovery from childhood abuse. It was partly meant to be informative, to offer context to people who may have witnessed, or been affected by, some of my... reactive behavior that was rooted in trauma. But it was also a way for me to try to understand myself a little better.
For the last several months, or longer, many of my postings have been less focused, less directly about my recovery. I've even been holding back from sharing some things because I've been afraid they might not be what you signed up for. And I'm afraid of falling into solipsism.
When young, I dreamed of being a writer, and then an actor (and playwright, director, performance artist). I am fortunate to have done some of each of these things, but I made the mistake of conflating my need to recover my lost childhood self, with becoming some... thing. I was looking for my identity outside of myself.
I also had a habit of self-sabotage. I now understand that my self-sabotage was a form of protection. I had all the talent and innate ability to be successful in whatever creative endeavor I chose, but until I was able to recognize and ultimately heal my inner wounds, it would be too risky, even dangerous, to allow myself to become an artist. Because being an artist, to me, is about opening oneself to the mystery and magic of divine forces and energy. This is why, in all historical cultures, there are myths and rituals, and shaman guides. Procedures to contain those forces. Exercises to practice and prepare to engage safely, with guardrails.
All occult practices warn against delving into these territories without sufficient guidance. Beware, they say, lest these energies consume you. Enter not into the realm of the spirits until you have earned your sword and shield.
When I started taking acid in my teens, I was exposed to a miraculous perspective and experience of the world. I began to tap into the power of creativity and manifestation. But I wasn't ready for that kind of power. It backfired. I had locked up so much trauma inside myself, I did not know who I was. I could not remember my pain. I had been hiding from it. So my darkness began spilling out. I became paranoid. I didn't have any faculty for engaging with the darkness. I thought it was coming from somewhere outside myself. So I spent the next couple of decades burying myself deeper.
A yoga client came to me and said, "I began this practice because you said it would help my back pain. But my back still hurts as much as ever."
I asked, "How long have you been practicing?"
"Six months."
"And how long has your back been hurting you?"
"Twenty years."
"Do you really think you can undo twenty years of pain in six months?"
Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack, a crack in everything
That's how the light gets in
I've been thinking about death recently. I've been thinking about death for my whole life. I've been thinking about my death lately. My next death. The many deaths yet to come. But in particular, I've been thinking about the death that will end this body, these words, these thoughts. I told Pam yesterday that we need to re-look at our will this week and make sure they're up to date, that we need to finish our "When we die" instructions and documents.
This was precipitated by a (minor) confrontation with the Gestapo yesterday morning. I was standing guard on the corner of 42nd Ave and International Boulevard. (I'm part of an NDLON watch group.) I had previously spotted two cars of some kind of cop/military types driving by, when a large gold SUV stopped at the right light 15 feet from me. I wasn't sure if it was feds or ICE, but I had a feeling. I was holding my phone by my side, so I took a photo with my thumb and finger, trying not to attract attention.
The tinted passenger window rolled down and a guy in possible paramilitary dress, looked right at me and said something I didn't hear. He then turned his head and spoke to someone behind him, who also rolled down his window (I could not make them out). I clearly had their attention.
Except for a small button pinned on my nondescript black cap, I was wearing and holding nothing that would mark me as anything more than just some guy standing on a corner. But the speed with which they saw me, and then making sure that I saw them seeing me, signaled that they were watching for people like me as much as we're watching for them.
With this knowing between us, I lifted my phone to my face and started taking more photos of them. At this, the passenger seat guy holds up his hand and gives me the finger. Then the light changed and they drove off.
Although their vibe was definitely hostile, I wasn't in fear of them, meaning I didn't feel an immediate threat to myself. I messaged my compatriots who were a block away about what transpired, and then it was time for me to head home.
As I thought more about the incident, I remembered that these people are truly dangerous. They are not only brazenly assaulting and kidnapping people, they have actually killed a few during their raids. Which of course led me to imagine a more serious encounter with them. In this case, my reaction was mild. I felt mostly curiosity with a tiny amount of adrenaline. I was more bemused than fearful. But what if...
What if, instead of a finger, the guy pointed a gun at my face, as they are doing to so many other people? How would I feel/react then? I imagined a few different scenarios, playing them out in my head, including the one where they pull my trigger. I can't know how I will react. The reality of it will not be like the imagining of it. But it's all I can do, right here and now. Imagine.
Have I told you about the time I almost died? It was an accident of the most freakish kind. This is where my thoughts led me. And then I remembered another time - the first time - I almost died. When I was a child with a piece of cold steel against my neck. When a part of me did die.
If ever a morning called for a Tarot reading, it was yesterday. That is what I sat down to tell you about. It was fascinating. It widened the cracks in my ego psyche to let a little more light out. I understand myself a little more. I see more of the pattern of my life. Everything is connected.
One life.
So much death.
So many deaths in a single lifetime.
I've got another death to confess, to admit to, to become free of, to let go... and I'm ready for it.
