It's all energy

One of my gifts is to be able to move a vast quantity of energy quickly and effortlessly. This is easy for me. What I forget is that it is all energy. This physical (that I truly struggle with) is in actuality, energy. It only seems to be physical. Ok! So now that I remember that, I can now move that thing I want to move. Easily.

A friend recently explained that I needed to periscope up through all of the crap that has been piled on top of me for years now. And I have. And I can see my truth. My truth. My truth looks different from your truth. And because I can see mine, I can see yours, like I can see the energy in the physical.

Now, I believe truth is truth but we all see it slightly different. Like some will read this and think I am insane because physical is physical and I say it is energy. And that is ok. You get to see the physical. I can see the energy and energy makes sense to me. Doesn't make yours less than mine. It's just different.

Energy makes a lot of sense to me. I can feel it moving always. But it doesn't make sense to most. And I, being someone who likes to make others very happy, had tried hard to live without feeling the energy. It hasn't worked for me. So now that I'm back in my skin, I am going to seem extraordinarily odd to those who are used to me not being in my skin. That's ok. I get it. Just know, I'm good. Really good. And I'm going to be just fine even though what I am doing can seem awfully scary. It really isn't. It's just a different approach.

That being said, for those of you who can understand where I am coming from and maybe needed a reminder that it is all energy, I'm here if ya wanna talk about it or you need a jolt. For those of you who just can't handle me going about this the way I am, I get it. I'll meet up with you on the other side.

Much ado about nothing

I went to a large family gathering last night. Many people there that I haven't seen in years. All of them I grew up with, saw on a regular basis, did many extended family things with. And it was familiar and strange all at once. I had a pleasant time. Talked to several people. Had some great conversations with cousins and their spouse's... cracked jokes, ate food, admired paintings. Last night I got home feeling run over. Major headache, body hurting, and I cried for many hours. I'm not sure why either. Today, my voice was completely gone and I felt hung over and my acne that was cleared up completely is back with a major vengeance.

So much energy in that room last night. So many old memories colliding with present experiences. People I knew growing up are now, for the most part, complete strangers. And I am a stranger to them also. They don't know if my trials, hardships, celebrations, triumphs, defeats... they don't know the person I have become. And I found myself unwilling to show them that person. I find I am hesitant to show most everyone that person. And now I'm left wondering why. What has happened in my life to cause me to retreat so far into myself that so few are shown the truth of me? Even now, I am helping a dear friend but it exposes my true self and I am already sad, hoping that I don't lose this friend when he sees the true me. I don't think I will and yet...

So, why do we hide? Why do we cover ourselves with dirt, throw some sticks into that dirt and proclaim them flowers? And why do we agree that other people's sticks are indeed flowers when we can see they are plainly sticks? I know a lot is fear of hurt. And maybe we pre-judge ourselves for others to soften the blow? Or do we try so hard to become others expectations of who they think we should be?

I don't know the answer and I don't know why being with family doesn't fill me up but completely depletes me. Why I want to flee to far away places after being with those who knew me growing up. And why I don't give them the updated version of myself when I seek out the updated version of them. It's been a confusing and disheartening weekend. And i fear I am simply rambling now..

Once I was 7 years old..

A couple of months ago, I recovered some memories of being sexually assaulted when I was 7. It was at school, during recess, the boy was in 5th or 6th grade and a known bully. His father was Very Important and had lots of Money. He had a small gang of younger boys that followed him around and did the dirty work for him. I don't remember what happened. I don't remember if it was once or several times. I do remember that he also hurt my friend so I stood up to him. I took on him and his minions. I told my teacher. I got in trouble.

I was punished severely for attacking him and making "false allegations" against him. I was told how wrong I was. His father was Very Important and had lots of Money and therefore he was above the rules. My friend was pulled out of my class because I was a bad influence.  I was 7. I didn't tell anyone else what happened. Why would I! I was punished for being a victim. I shut down. I became invisible. When I turned 8, my baptism was delayed for some reason. I was sure it was because I was unworthy, because I was damaged.  I became more invisible.
Now, I continue to be invisible. I disappear easily. That incident really set me up for the other sexual predators that found me, used me, hurt me. So I added unattractive to invisible to keep me safe. And now I'm stuck here and I really am unsure how to get out of this.

Things have been unsteady lately. Some days emotions are high. Some days they don't exist. I really am unsure how to process this is or what to do with it all. I only write this to get it out of my head so I can maybe see it clearly. And if course, life moves on. So dealing with 36 year old crap along with being a mom, homeschooling, running a home, paying bills, taking care of a husband, trying to be a good neighbor/ friend/ listener/ daughter/ confidante, pets, laundry, dishes, healing a still broken leg, trying to break through the weight loss monster, dealing with loss, and all sorts of other fun life things that keep getting thrown at us, is exhausting to say the least.  I'm spent. And so, so tired. But here I am.

I don't know what all of this means nor what to do with it. It is for now.

Hope

I am currently reading this series that the "bad guy" is the dark side of magic. Its called the Decay. The Decay came from people using magic to intentionally hurt other people. And the more they used it to hurt, the more it grew, almost consuming everything and everyone. Some people got together and fought the Decay and almost eradicated it. Almost. Some lingered and made its way into a person who then spread the Decay slowly throughout the different kingdoms. The Decay promises great power, and it delivers but it corrupts absolutely. And the more you give in to hurting others, the more power you get.
Right now, I see the government in the grips of this Decay. It came in with promises of power and greatness. And there is both, but at the expense of people. Its hurting many but the Decay keeps growing. So many are buying into the enticement of greatness, power, money, wealth.. and they are getting it. And people see that those who let go of that little voice that says "this might hurt someone" for the voice that says "but you don't know that someone. And who cares as long as you gain!", get gain but lose humanity. And it's infectious. Instead of "all people are equal", we get "some are entitled to more". Instead of "let's pull together to help each other", we get "but my need is much more important than yours". People are creating lines "us" against "them". And the lines are becoming more distinct. Everyone is rallying to a side. Athletes should be grateful for the money we give them! Undocumented people should go back to where they came from! Women are lower than men! You should be exactly the same as me and if you are not, I will hate you! Gays have a mental illness! Dog lovers are corrupt! Cat lovers hate fish! Vegans are the only ones who care about anything! Only old, rich, white men can make decisions about how we run our country!
I keep hoping that that small voice in people's heads will win. I keep going that people will see the Decay and realize how much they are hurting themselves along with all of those they feel like need to be hurt. I keep hoping...

The good stuff

Many years ago, a dear friend told me I am the type that prefers the good stuff in small amounts as compared to large amounts of the cheap stuff. I didn't believe her. We are taught to make due with what we have, be grateful for the small things. I translated this to mean you need to settle for the cheap stuff, settle for the scraps you are given and be happy with it. I never was.
Lately, I have started a new diet. You eat what you like minus junk food but stop eating at 3. You drink water or zero calorie drinks after 3 only.  It sounded hard but I was excited. I have not struggled 1 day with this diet. I even gave myself a cheat day. We got pizza from the Pie. And I found myself not eating after 3. I also discovered that she was right. I like the good stuff. That pizza was the same price as the "cheap" kind. And it was so much better. I was more satisfied with a smaller portion than if we had just got Papa John's or Dominos.
So, now I am done settling. I like the good stuff. I like the high end chocolates, the gourmet raviolis, the amazingly good pizza. I would rather pay for the expensive stuff and enjoy every bit of the small portion then have lots of the icky crap. And I will no longer apologize for having expensive tastes. This is who I am. Call me a snob. Call me a princess. I don't care. I will enjoy the finer things. I will expect a higher standard. And I will no longer deny that party of me.
(Btw, I've lost about 4 lbs in this new diet. I've been doing it for just under a week)

Gray hairs

I finally have got my long awaited gray hairs coming in. I'm so excited! And the 2 people I have shown them to, look at me as if I were an alien. Sigh. I've always wanted gray hair.  I think it is so beautiful. And mine are coming in all white and shimmery, which I knew would happen. Not sure why we must cling to youth and anything but being young and perfect is seen as bad. Why can't we embrace all the different changes in life? Why don't we celebrate arriving in our 40's as the accomplishment it is? How many people didn't make it here?

Why don't we celebrate the milestones of reaching those older ages? The scars, the gray hairs, the wrinkles, the sagging body parts.. each one has a story behind it. Each ones has built us up to be the person we are now.  Why is youth and staying there the sign of achievement? Personally, I would never want to be in my 20's again. It was hard. And I almost didn't make it out.

I think I will celebrate more those scars, the gray hairs, the wrinkles and sags. At least by myself, in my bedroom, alone. (Well, I might share the gray hairs cause those really make me happy..  )

Baby Monkey

We had a troop of Black and White Colobus Monkeys. They were very amusing to watch play. We got a call from the keeper early one morning. There was an extra monkey! One of the females had a baby in the night. We didn't even know she was pregnant. Well, mom wasn't doing well. She was darted and brought to the hospital. She didn't put up a fight, which is very unusual. The baby was pure white and so tiny! She was scared, which is very normal. We had two teams, one working on mom, the other dealing with the baby. I was on baby duty. She was small enough to sit in my hand perfectly comfortable. We weighed her, drew some blood, did an exam and waited to see what would happen with mom. The baby was having a hard time, calling for her mom and panicking about all these hairless, pink apes handling her. I snuggled the baby up next to my chest. She kept looking for something to hold on to. I gave her a pinkie. She held onto it with both paws as if it was her only lifeline. I then cooed at her, talking softly. I told her she was safe and her mom would be ok. I rocked back and forth trying to soothe this poor, frightened baby. She was calling for her mom pretty loud and as we walked and talked, her cries lessened and softened. Finally, the poor thing fell asleep in three of my fingers, still gripping my pinkie. The other people around me stopped because the baby's cries had stopped. They all turned to me expecting the baby to have died and found her sleeping soundly cuddled in my hand. Awe and amazement came over everyone. All I could say was "I'm good at putting babies to sleep, no matter what the species."