I’m torn between feeling ecstatic and panic. If this is what manic feels like, which I’ve heard it is, then I can’t imagine cycling through this emotion like a pendulum– one moment invincible, the next moment pummeling through the depths of depression like a fiery comet through the pits of hell… well, then, I’ll pass.

This life is so crazy. Insane. Crackers. Cooo-cooo.

Inevitably, amazing things happen. Of course, then, so do worrisome things. I’ve felt a lot of emotion today… a lot of the precursor towards guilt… not quite guilt, but just enough question in my mind that if I really did fuck things up with so many of the people I’ve experienced in my past, then ouch, I must not be as good of a person as I had thought. At the same moment, right as I’m about to succumb to feeling sorry for myself, the faint whisper in my mind hastens me to stop… Why can’t I be just fine as I am, mistakes and all?

Of course I’m not perfect. You all have followed me along this path of realization that one– that I– cannot always be the perfect (fill in the descriptive role here). I’m not an angel, after all. I may try, but alas, I fall significantly short. So if that is true, and right, and perfect, then why should I feel a negative emotion such as guilt for being human?

My passion for people is proving to be another roller coaster ride… highs, lows, and every place in between. I shed tears for my lost friendships… but in the same body, I recognize that I have three options: change my thoughts, release my thoughts into the Universe, or come to resolve. All of which are valid options, none complete without the others, but some more permanent in healing than the rest.

Choose to resolve. To revolve. To evolve. To embrace the life lessons as my own– my learning opportunities perfectly suited for a Work In Progress such as myself.

How I will go about resolving myself from my sins… is a challenge most people would gift a god. Dear Father in Heaven, save me from myself. Forgive me my sins.

What does a child do who has no Father? Does she cry out with self pity? Does she wallow in misery knowing that no imperfect creature such as herself could possibly pursue the expression of bliss?

I can’t go that route. I can’t allow myself to rot that way.

Instead, I will learn to forgive and embrace myself. In all my passions– my pitiful behaviors– my oversights and loose tongues. I allow it to be my experience, and yet strive for perfection.

They say perfection is god’s work.

And in saying yes, I recognize the goddess in me.

Daily experience makes it easy to sometimes forget what is important.

More than anything else in this last several months, what I’ve learned about is being given perspective.  Perspective changes how you feel, it changes your experience. 

For example: let’s say one is feeling lonely or left out.  Perhaps she  may feel judged by her friends, due to recent risky decisions she’s made.  Or, on another perspective, perhaps her friends are busy with their own new relationships and life in general and still love her just the same, wishing she would stop by sometime.  No one picks up the phone because they are all viewing the experience from their own perspective.

Perspective is absolutely the one piece that we have control over throughout our experience.  Sometimes things fail us, like time, money, or health, and some of those things we may not have a whole lot of control over.  But our perspective is paramount to experience.  Pick your perspective, and you change your life.

It’s the one thing you CAN CHOOSE.  When you pick the right perspective, there is nothing to worry about, because you know that things always turn out the way they are supposed to, they always turn out well, regardless of the emotions you have attached to the outcome.

Tonight, I feel validated.

With so much going on in my world, I have needed a temporary break from myself– from the constant thoughts that swim in my head.  I have had to take a few days to be quiet… to just Be.

I have been absorbing it.  Re-aligning myself with the inner guidance that drives me towards feeling good.

I have learned a great many lessons through these most recent experiences… learned that as long as I keep putting one foot in front of the other, that I will get through the maze, regardless of where I end up… I have been forced to trust myself, my judgment. To know that I have my best interests in mind.

I was given some great advice.  It was that one should not go around with their head in the sand, not lie in the dark waiting for whatever happens next.  I believe that I create my experience, through intentions, through thoughts, through my attitude towards my experience… and that I shouldn’t ignore what isn’t working– to address it is far more liberating than to lazily allow things to happen to me.

There are so many opportunities to learn from what we go through.  It’s a matter of whether or not we allow ourselves to absorb those lessons or if we blindly grope in the dark looking for the reasons behind why we go through them.

I awake to find myself on the bus.  It is crowded here.  People stare at me, the white woman, finding herself there, on the back of the bus, wondering how the hell I got there and where we are all going.

There is an ebb and flow of people, getting on and off at each stop.  I can’t see the street names.  I look around to orient myself, but the signs are all fuzzy, and I don’t recognize the buildings. 

Being sober has a strange effect on me.  I am in and out of surreal experiences, waking up in places, not knowing how I’ve come to be where I’m at.  I can never tell if I’m dreaming.  My lucidity is shot.  Maybe it’s because when I am putting intoxicants in my blood I am actively aware that I need to remain aware of what’s happening.  Maybe.

So this is what life is like.  I peer down the aisles of the bus, watching the knees of the other patrons moving in and out of the center as people slide in, standing room only, finding their place amongst strangers.

There are glimmers and flashes of light poking their heads through the skylights, and with each flash, I am blinded, catching myself having memories that I don’t remember– memories I don’t own.

Being human is so difficult for me sometimes.  So this is what it’s like, this is life on this planet.  There’s so much I don’t know, don’t understand, and so much I want to know more of.  With a single flash, I am transformed into a feather that flits around the traffic, in and out of wheel wells, under the bus, down into the sewer, popping back out at another drainage grate… this is what it’s like to be alive. 

*flash* now I am the child, running ahead of her mother, whispering, “catch me, mommy,” and the mother isn’t looking, she’s watching the cars stream past her, honking, and I can’t seem to catch her attention, so I bolt into the street.

*flash* there is a man sitting behind me.  He is wearing a baggy, shiny, silver jacket over his massive body.  There are black skulls on his shirt, and he is listening to loud music, so loud we can all hear it.  The black girl sitting next to me cringes when the man starts rapping with the music, “White woman, sitting in the back of the bus, she won’t look at us, she ain’t one of us.”  I bite my lip.  It’s not that I’m uncomfortable with him, but everyone seems to be uncomfortable with me. 

A young mother with her three children stream onto the bus at the next stop.  She has to direct them to stand close to her, but they are curious.  Prejudice and ignorance are learned behaviors.  The youngest child, a boy no more than two years old, smiles at me.  “Hello little man,” I say.

*flash* “Next stop,” *garbled* No use in worrying where I’m at.  I’m disoriented, it doesn’t matter where I am. 

My mind wanders to a memory of my lover, lying in bed with just the cotton sheet wrapped around him.  His breathing moves the sheet.  Under the sheet, his hair wraps around his body, and I can see it rise and fall as he sleeps sweetly.  

I am not alone here.  I can feel their presence everywhere… the others like me.  I can see it in your eyes.  I can hear it in your words.  A man up the aisle latches onto my eyes, he’s been watching me watch another.  He doesn’t smile, just stares. 

Time is no longer waiting for me.  My days last for years.  My seconds click by disheartingly slowly.  I can see the pulse of a man sitting in front of me.  His jugular throbs a silent cry.  beatBeat, beatBeat, beatBeat. “White woman, her pants fit so nice, I want to slap her ass and show her who’s boss.”

Suddenly the bus is silent.   Everyone’s bustle falls into a deafening silence.  “Sharon, we need you to come to the front.”

I get up.  My name isn’t Sharon.  But I can’t stop myself.  I can’t make my legs sit me back down on my seat.  I am walking forward, pressing myself through the crowd of people standing in the walk way.  I hear whispers.  I hear gum snapping.  I hear the thumping of his headphones, sitting in his lap.  He’s taken them off of his head; he wants to see what happens.

“Next stop,”

I get off the bus.  I watch the bus drive away.  The streets are empty now.  I begin to walk.  I have no idea where I’m going.  I am not lost, though.  I keep walking.  For hours, I push myself forward, one step at a time.  I ignore the ache in my side, the blisters rubbing against my shoes.  I look down, and instead of seeing my adult body, I see a child’s.  I touch my hair, and it feels soft.  I keep walking. 

There is a man, now.  He is riding a bicycle, walking his dog.  He goes into a shop, and disappears.  The building is old, crumbling.  The pillars are painted purple.  I follow him.

My fingertips press the heavy door in front of me.  It creaks open.  I step inside, and it is dark again. So dark that I can see nothing.

I hear nothing.  There seems to be a vacuum of sound in this room, a vacuum so powerful that I cannot hear my own breath.  I try to speak, to hear something– anything.  I can’t even hear my footsteps.

I say my name, “Ash.”

I can’t hear it outside of my mind.

I awake to find myself on the bus.  It is crowded here.  People stare at me, the white woman, finding herself there, on the back of the bus, wondering how the hell I got there and where we are all going.

Emotions are amazing.  I love being in love.  I love being filled with love.  I love happiness and joy, and in the right time, sadness.  It’s all part of the human experience. However, emotions will absolutely serve as a lens for any situation you experience.  When you feel tension, if you can set yourself away from the emotional part of the experience, I can assure you that this tension is a direct result from the emotions you feel about the situation.

One must consider when dealing with humans, particularly, that we are all emotional creatures.  Whether we admit it or not, we all want to have our emotions validated and reciprocated.  When we’re in love, we want love returned.  When we’re miserable, we want to be with people who share our misery.  When we’re happy, we seek out companionship that feeds our happiness.  (more…)

Sometimes the English language fails me… and it’s not always the limitations of the language so much– I know more than one language.

Sometimes there are no words that describe it, as much as we’ve tried to use them as symbols for our thoughts, our emotions.

Sometimes we just have to rely on how it feels– in all aspects, physically, mentally, emotionally, and instead of using our brains to wrap our experience up into a bundle of verbs, nouns, and adjectives… we have to use our hearts and just let it be what it is.

And it feels right.  It feels good.  Magnificent.

Wow.  I’m really emotional today… and of course, that leaves me trying to find a reason behind it, a reason to explain my feelings… there has to be something logical behind them… something that justifies them and makes it okay to be feeling this way. Today, I feel like a sad person in a normal person’s skin. It’s weird.  I’ve been really trying to embrace the good feelings I had this time last year.  I was suddenly alive again, in love… I was on top of my world, and the universe was turning itself around to be precisely what it was that I desired from it.  I desired SO much, and everything just came to be.  Just like that. *snap*

I still have everything. I have everything I could possibly desire, everything that my heart could want.  And at the same time, I wonder if perhaps without feeling exuberant, that maybe I really have nothing.  After all, it’s that feeling that I want, not necessarily the material or circumstantial things that I thought made me feel that way. I feel lonely.  (more…)

There are so many lessons.

First, be aware of who you treat poorly, because you never know when you’ll need them to help you.

There is a very serious story to this, which I will not get into on this blog, but ultimately what it comes down to is that this is a small world, there are absolutely consequences for every action, and you will get what’s coming to you one way or another.

Second, do not put value into gossip.  Do not allow it into your experience.  If you hear it, ignore it.  If it is about you, do not give any energy into it.

I had my feelings hurt today; I cannot allow that to drive me, or to affect me emotionally.  Most people who do choose to gossip do so in order to satisfy a void within themselves.  This is not about me.

Some doors remain open, some close.

I see no point in loving you if you refuse to love me back. I’ve a big heart, but if I’m not part of yours, there’s no desire for me to waste my time and energy.

What’s strange is that I don’t feel this way for just one person… but everyone.

And what’s even stranger is that I am behaving in ways towards people who are giving me their energy that implies that I’m unwilling to give back.

I need to re-direct. Re-focus. I have attachment issues, apparently. I do not know what it is to fight with my family and know that they’ll still love me afterwards.

Or, for the matter, that I will still love them. No relationship is imperative.

I say it, and each time I assert it, it sounds so hurtful. It’s not like I don’t love.

I’m going through a cyclic process.  I’m gradually working towards raising my vibrations, and it’s more pointed than I remember it last year.  Last year, I remember feeling like it was a consistent flying high process, and I believe that perhaps this is because I had only lower vibration to compare it to.  Relatively speaking, it was consistently being raised.

I have been knocked down in the last year.  I now know the difference between feeling good and feeling bad and am far more sensitive to the occasions where I feel “bad,” or rather, relatively speaking, vibrationally lower than I choose to feel.  In the last several months, I’ve cycled rapidly between higher and lower vibration fairly consistently.  A few months ago, I correlated this swing with my cycle.  Now, I am unable to relate the cyclic nature of my vibration with my menstruation. Now the cycling is more of a daily experience.

On some days it happens every few hours.  I am aware of the lowering vibrations far more than I’ve ever been in my life.  This is both good and bad.  I recognize it, catch it, and in turn twist my mood back up more quickly than before, but now I am noticing my mood swings, and therefore, I feel more moody than I’ve been in the past. I think I might be the only person to notice. Maybe not. I’m dealing better with stressors.

I am working on the balance between actually FEELING emotions (allowing myself to experience them) and keeping them in check (by only allowing them to happen in a healthful way). My dreams are coming into fruition, and that is absolutely magnificent to watch unfold.  I have the dream job, the dream home, the dream education.  I have everything my heart desires, and yet I am still cycling… enchanted, disenchanted, enchanted, disenchanted. This serves a brilliant lesson for me.  This serves to remind me that true joy comes from internal factors far more than external factors.  External factors can affect that joy, but only insofar as I allow them to.

True happiness, true love, true exuberance is self-created.  It doesn’t matter what kind of dream life you live… if you do not create the joy yourself, you will never appreciate it. That is all.

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