Day 47 – Gratitude: The Freeway to light your life up with joy!

Howdy peeps!

I’m gonna read straight form the horse’s mouth today cos the following paragraph from Kat made me cry cute little tears of joy:

‘What I learned about gratitude is this.  When we give thanks for everything in our lives, specifically and exactly for the way they are, regardless of our preference for them to be different, our lives become lit up with joy.  And when we are lit up with joy, we become an absolute magnet for the blessings of life.’

I’m not exactly sure why this made me cry.  I don’t know if I’m feeling sad and jaded that this process is about to be over (only two more days to go :(), or whether it was realizing that life is truly such a damned tasty finger licking delight that naturally, our birthright is to be completely and overwhelmingly lit up with joy.  I want to be so lit up, that I make your local award winning Christmas light of the year Street look like a sad 3 hour no frills tea light tragedy.  I want my joy and my light to fill the world and to live life in this glorious mysterious way.

It is almost surreal to me how quickly we can choose our lives to be different, almost instantaneously.  We can choose to stay in wounded jadedness ( I have a doctorate in this!) or in head fucking brain strain freak out attack over everything and anything.  These puppies are like coats.  You can pop them on.  Pop them off.  You can pop on two coats at once if you are feeling game.  Anxiety and depression are a tempting double coat option.  And you can leave them on for as long as you like.  But the fuckers will suffocate you.  Particularly in the caribbean.

Or you can pop on the gratitude and acceptance coat.  This puppy is so magical it belongs in Harry Potter.  You pop it on and your feet start dancing to the new rhythm of your life and this life is juicier than a big fat tom cat with a bad arsed rat hanging out of its mouth.  This life is full, no matter what, and you become a super sleuth detective in snooping out more and more joy and fun.  You don’t just look for happiness and goodness you let them become you and before you know it, there is no separation.

I have had insane amounts of challenges lately.  I had some weird arsed Peruvian invisible bug chew its way into my life, freaking the absolute shit out of me and making me put every aspect of my life on hold.  But it was only when I decided to simply choose life as it was, full of weird Peruvian chewing fuckers, that they slowly seemed to kind of magically evaporate.  I can not say that I fully understand this.  Nor do I want to.  Some things are best left not understood and to simply bathe in the glow of the trail of light they left behind.  I’m still bathing.  I’m still soaking in the unbelievableness that simply making a decision could be enough to start to shift everything.

During this time, I had to pack up my life, put it in storage and stay with friends whilst looking for a new home.  It would be way easy to say that I was in crisis and to stop this daily ritual and process.  Way easy to say that once again, my life should go on hold and that I should wait till my life looked more perfect before being so indulgent as to spend a few hours a day, every day, on my self growth and love.  But somehow, as I kept going, more and more, I am starting to see life for the everyday magnificent thing that it is.  It is raw, wild and perfect, no matter what.

Today the couple I’m living with had a fight, in the kitchen below me.   A bit of screaming.  A bit of anger.  A bit of stomping.  Normally, this would put me into some kind of spin.  But today, I wasn’t even phased.  I just felt ok that this was a couple doing normal communication explosions to get closer to the truth.  Sometimes the path to truth is murky and filled with a few explosions.  And that’s ok.  Cos love is a bit of a wild path and we don’t always feel like communication Buddhas vibing off love, light and understanding.  Sometimes we are like wild dogs gnawing our own limbs off, desperate to be right.  And then just as easily we realize that all we want is to see and be seen, to love and be loved.  And it is all beautiful and perfect in its seeming imperfection.

I got so engrossed in my ‘5 pages of gratitude’ exercise that i accidentally did 6.  It was actually amazing to keep finding more and more and more and more to be grateful for.  There literally is a never ending torrent of good shit coming our of this top little nook called earth.  And I am starting to let it fill every inch of me like air.  It is delicious and tastes about as divine as the sweet syrupy dessert I’m gonna make for the dinner party tonight.

I feel like all the pieces of this 49 day process are starting to float around me now like bees.  Lovingly pollinating me bit by bit.  Landing on the different blossoms inside me and giving them life.  And my honey is becoming sweet and rich and rare and even I am starting to drink it in.

 

Day 46 – You can’t forgive in a pool of rage! Who knew?

Ok, so this is not rocket science.  Especially where I live where there are more new agers tuning up their chakras than rainbow frocks  (and there are shit loads of those puppies too),  you start feeling cheap and dirty if you actually feel something that smells curiously like ANGER!  (cap lock for emphasis cos it feels like a big scary monster!)

Today was about forgiveness but I think that this is the first time I’ve ever read to not forgive someone ad infinitum.  Kat suggests that you ensure that new appropriate boundaries be set so that you are safe and honored.  Then and only then, is there room for healthy forgiveness.

The idea is that anger is a great teacher in boundaries.  Anger is telling us with a big fat stomping right foot ‘NO!  I don’t like that!  I don’t want that!’  Anger is often a top friend that we dismiss as being unholy cos of her wild seemingly uncontrollable intensity.  So we pick her up and throw her down some stairs into the dungeon and get her to stay there until she has cooled down and breathed it off.  Poor little anger was just trying, at all costs, to ensure that we grew a ball and some self love.  Anger is our ultimate guardian but sometimes she comes across as a cheap bouncer, covered in tats, kicking a metho habit and just doesn’t look good for us and certainly doesn;t match our new designer jeans  (as if I even know what designer jeans look like, but you get my drift :)).

The thing is,  anger will remain (and so she damned well should, feisty metho clad bouncer of glory that she is!) until we use her wild force to set new boundaries for our safety and respect.  Only then will the anger subside, opening a new soft space where forgiveness becomes possible.  Otherwise, forgiveness is just an exercise to inflate the ego but with no real lasting results.

If no boundaries have been set, then the cycles will keep playing out with the same or new players and anger will simply keep smashing her head on the dungeon door for eons until finally, she is heard.

I give my self a C for boundary setting.  I can be surprisingly amazing with some people.  But as soon as it comes to people I really really love like dearest friends, then I get wildly murky.  Then I start getting stuck in the business of whether I will be seen as a bad person for setting them.  So instead, I don’t set them, I get shitty and resentful and I risk creating distance and inauthenticity in deeply loving, honest connections.  No one is to blame but me becausse I’m scared I won’t be loved and accepted if I am not the Dalai Lama on roids, ever loving and ever giving, non stop, around the clock.

I need to take my new little metho skulling feisty bouncer’s hand and sit with her.  Have a listen to what she has to say.  Because I have a feeling that she is not going anywhere until she gets heard and her new self respect policies get actioned.  Otherwise I may just wake up to find one of her bill boards up my arse.  Ouch.

 

Day 45 – Giving a F*@! about other humans!

Theory and practice.  In theory I am quite lovely.  I have a big fun heart and when with a group of people I can truly light up a room, if I choose to.  I could get a pack of suicidal teenagers to spill their guts and then belly laugh their way through heart warming stories about who they’ve pashed and what inspires them.

The problem is I don’t.  I don’t know why but somewhere, somehow I kind of stopped trying in life.  Full stop.  I kind of gave up the whole wild unpredictable ride and have been flat out trying not to care, ever since.  I’ve pretended I don’t give a fuck about anyone but myself and sometimes I’m astoundingly convinced.  But it leaves me feeling empty, like I just had a big plate of cheap no frills pasta.  No nutrients and full of something that is foreign and my body doesn’t know quite what to do with.

I think because I spent so many years in overwhelming adrenaline cascading fear, I kind of felt that all I could do was deal with myself.  I thought that if I could just get myself happy, then I could get on with the business of giving a fuck about any one else.  But this is about as fulfilling as porn when really what someone is crying out for is love.  Connection.  Something to make your heart burst and scream and let go and trust and pray and know that wow life is fucking amazing after all.   The fairy Godmother was not a psychotic narcissistic bitch out to get you.  She was right.  You are the fairy tale and life is there to give you all its incredible magic if you can only find the courage to … connect.

The challenge for me is my business admin approach to life.  Lists.  Dot points.  Cross things out and move onto the next task, human or event.  I wanted to get enough career fulfillment to then feel satisfied to join life, for real.  But, its a waiting game that could go on for ever.  I’m living on the side lines at the moment,  I occasionally run in and take over for a few minutes whilst one of the players has a breather.  I joined a theatre company and let my spirit come alive for two hours a week between 8 and 10pm on Thursday nights.  I occasionally let myself go to shows that make my soul sing:  But hopefully not too much cos then I end up all jaded that my life is not quite that vibrant or magnificent looking.

I can feel this shiny sparkly loving soul inside me that is quite wild.  A veritable torrent of love.  And lots of those in my life have felt it and are quite captivated by it.  But poor pups had better not be too attached cos it is gone just as quick as it appeared.  They are left with a tease and shadow of love and I am left empty wondering where all the love went.

This thing is love is not a game.  It is a way of being, a life style, a choice.  I have chosen a half life where I give very little of my self to friends, family, my community or the world at large.  Don’t expect too much of me and I won’t expect too much of you.  It is a stingy way to live, but such has been my self induced suffering and I have chosen it as the only way forward.  Focus on yourself now and plough forward like a death eater, keen to steal any scrap of joy in order to simply go on, go on, go on.

It is overwhelming to be so ruthless with my life right now.  So honest.  So desperately honest in the hope that this honesty will allow me to pick up my courage stone and finally rub it and let my genie appear.  The genie that has been waitng all my life:  The one who tells me that love is not a damned barter system and that if I want life to look more beautiful then I should become a torrent of beauty and fill the world with my flowers everywhere.  Love is not an excel spread sheet.  It can not be organised or ticked off one column at a time.  It is messy and only by getting all crazy and disorganzied and spread across it like a feral concoction of peanut butter, nutella and pickled tomato chutney can there ever be any hope of growing.  Love can’t grow in a vice.

Today has been a monster awareness day of admitting that I give very little emotionally or physically to anyone.  Even how I give to friends has become quite limited and neat.  It is time for me to start dancing naked in the pie chart of my life: To jump from segment to segment like a wild toddler after a gallon of red cordial.  It is time to stop waiting for the world to make me feel better.  It is time to grow up and stop expecting others to take care of my needs.  It is time to seize every single second as an opportunity to give and be love on this planet.  How can I honestly expect life to be generous to me when I am so insular?  Planet earth:  Welcome.  I’m stepping aboard.

 

Day 39 – Taking Responsibility for my Caca!

Responsibility and blame:  Don’t we all love this little juicy carrot?  I have developed a highly sneaky method of shifting responsibility that I think will impress you if not make you shake your head as though Someone has just smashed you over it with a frypan.

You see, I am a well read multi year self healp trouper.  I have seminared the fuck out of myself, cried big fat tears in front of hundreds of people and done cathartic shamanic ceremonies involving burning shitty ‘bits’ that I am releasing.  I am the queen of responsibility for my stuff.  And what I mean by that is that I totally get that I can’t blame any one else for how I feel or for the erratic  array of dramatic circumstances that I continually manage to create in my life.

But no body said I can’t blame God!

He/It/Spirit (insert your own title here) has been coping a shit load of flack from me since time began.  Basically, I do this faux-take responsibility cabaret number on him.  All song and dance.  But when it comes to the finale and things don’t go my way, I jump off the stage and start strangling the fuck out of him screaming “Why didn’t you help me?!  Why didn’t shit go my way? Why don’t you make my life easy for once… you narcisistic prick?!!!”  (NB.  For those of you struggling to read between the lines in my Oh so subtle prose, I am kind of somewhat jaded with God) 🙂

Basically, I think I’ve been wanting God to care for me in a way that my parents simply never could.  I was continually told as a child that life was hard and I simply could not do what I wanted.  I was told that life was full of suffering and  was not allowed to pursue creative interests.  Life was about accepting the shitness and just pushing through it.  What a pretty little parcel of joy.

Basically, I think I’ve spent the last 15 to 20 years being jaded about this picture presented to me as I grew up.  At random times I would try to set out to prove my parents wrong:  See!  I can do what I love!  I can become a struggling musician playing at dodgy pubs, trying to sing my pretty little acoustic ballads whilst truckloads of loud drunks tell me I sound like Jewel.  Now that is fulfillment.  I am a manifesting genius.  I somehow managed to create experiences where no matter what I did, I always ended up feeling that life was hard, and I was its wounded suffering victim.

So after years of dancing with this equation in lots of forms and self helping my way to pretend peace one skanky chakra at a time, I decided that really, my parents were fucking right.  I threw in the towel.  Life was a series of shit happenings all strewn together and God was clearly a rightful prick for not being a little more helpful and saviour like in it all.

I have this awesome and highly little entertaining pattern that I live:  Just when my life is starting to feel good, peaceful, full of love and stuff that smells curiously like joy, I create a killer drama to get me all jaded.  Now, because I have become a mini Buddha rock, this can no longer be a mini drama.  It has to be a big Kahuna to throw me off my rock of Godly peace.  So, just when I was starting to feel that maybe life was actually a lovely peaceful thing for me to deliciously inhale one sweet, gentle day at a time, with love pouring out of it tirelessly, I created some weird arsed Peruvian bug mystery to throw Agatha Christie and created a pseudo housing ‘crisis’.

Now, it’s interesting that I created all this drama in the midst of this process, just when I was really starting to enjoy the sweet idiosyncrasies of it all, the gentle musings of it like a cat laying in the sun.  Just when I started thinking that this whole drama theory was up to shit, there I went again, Queen of the manifesters of caca  (spanish for poo) creating turds so big that I really can’t jump over them.  Fyi – Caca jumping is not an Olympic sport!  Apparently they need to be dealt with.  And then I pull out my default, highly evolved reaction:  It’s not fair!  Why doesn’t God help me?! Why does God keep doing this to me?  And my final clincher:  Why is life so hard?!!!!!!  (Enter toddler sacreaming banshee ear drum psychotic breaking scream here!) 🙂

For those of you who do not play this game, I would not recomened it.  Not surprisingly, it takes a shit load of work to maintain this level of anger and anxst.  But amongst it all, I get the ecstatic fulfillment of being right.  (Highly evolved head space goes something like this:  See, I was fucking right!  Life is a sack of shit and you can all just get fucked you damned doo gooding inspirational fuck heads!)  Bless 🙂

So, I guess that my challenge right now, in this moment is to simply accept that I actually created EVERYTHING.  Life started getting easy and sweet and something inside me got confused and started missing the drama and crisis of it all.  I wanted to be right and prove that I was the suffering queen.  I wanted my crown.  But walking around with this crown is like walking around with a grenades as earrings:  a little sketchy!

So, all that I can do right now is breathe, give my self a little pat on the back for doing an exquisite job in the role of  Drama Queen, surrender my Crown (and sketchy earrings) and simply trust in life again.  This is about me stepping into a new idea that life is actually not out to hurt me but, if I persistently think that it will, then it will sure as Hell come back at me with a wild display of its hurtful goods, generous as it is.

It’s hard to give up being right.  As I said I’m pretty good at it in relationships, but I’m just getting that I’ve been holding a 20 year debate with the Big Guy over this one, a real ball buster and have been holding on by my teeth, my limbs long ago numb then severed from 20 years of non stop tugging.  I gotta throw this rope back out to sea cos maybe just maybe the whole world has better things to do that collectively set out to make my life caca.  Maybe, just maybe the only one who can make it anything at all is… me.

 

Day 27 – The Big scary voice within. My epiphany!

Well Kitty Kat is back with her usual tear provoking antics.  I would like to say that  when I read her writings on prayer and meditation this morning, unstoppable tears just poured down my face.  5 pages of major crying with new tear triggers occurring on every page.

Kat wrote about her relationship with God, how she felt completely abandoned during tough times in her life and basically dumped him (like a high school beau).  She felt that she had totally offered herself up, heart and soul to God, and that instead of being used in a great way that she was simply ignored and tortured.

I have definitely had this type of experience where I have given up on God.  Where I felt so lost and abandoned by life that it was hard to believe that I was not being ‘punished’ in some way.  And now, 4 weeks into the saga of my biting creatures, I have really been feeling that I am being ‘punished’ for something or taught some major awful lesson.  That God is making me suffer or getting me back for not coming good on my agreement with him to be a brave warrior princess and share my musical gifts with the world.

I realized that I’ve started bargaining with him, begging for help from this agony in exchange for a promise to fulfill my original promise of releasing music.  I’ve started begging and promising that if he makes the creatures go away, then (and only then) will I do what I promised and come good on my deal.  Only then will I start up my business as  a healer and workshop facilitator and start performing again.

And, what I’m seeing now is that maybe the greatest lesson within this all is that  I have to stop waiting for perfect conditions to start living my life.  I have to find a way to be grateful now and to live accordingly.  Now.  Damn it.

I had to do a little meditation on my theme for love (courage) and after doing it, I felt clearer on the lessons of my bug trauma.  Here’s my Oprah style AHA!:

1. I can overcome anything.  I am strong.  With courage and persistence, I will succeed.

2.Peace is available in ANY circumstance.

3.I can keep going with my goals, despite all obstacles.  I don’t have to let things stop me.

4.I am so so grateful for the simplicity and beauty of an everyday life.

5. I must appreciate the beauty and simplicity of my life NOW, even with my current obstacle.

I think this is what is commonly called an epiphany.  I am epiphonying all over myself today and am feeling that the only way through this is to take consistent focused action, both on the issue itself as well as with my own life.  I still need to honor my body and state of mind and stay in a state of peace and grace amongst it all. (NOT EASY!!!!) 😉

But, I feel so much calmer and prepared to take on more cleaning today and feel that I will do it in a much more peaceful and balanced state.

Tomorrow – making wise choices.  Really, can I get any wiser than this? 🙂

 

Day 22 – Visioning – aka – Listening to the Godster!

Oh Thank you thank you thank you Kitty Kat.  When this home girl said that she was no longer gonna drag my subconscious through mud, slam it off cliffs and then stab it (just to make sure it got the message) she was right!

Today was a damned joy.  Bring on week 4!  Beside the fact that there seemed to be very minimal creature chewing going on last night (a definite bonus), today was about Visioning a love fulfilled.  Now this is not the whole “The secret” thing where you sit down and consciously do your nut in whilst you try to work out your exact desires.  This is where you become still enough to feel the answer. Oooooh.  Spooky 🙂

Actually it was a bit amazing.  I was ‘given’ two songs “All fired up” by Pat Benetar and “Like  Prayer” by Maddonna.  I’d like it to be known that they were so not top of mind awareness (nb. is Pat Benetar top of mind awareness for anyone????) so I’m gonna just fully trip out and assume that God it trying to talk to me in cleudo code (Nice one Home boy!!!).  I just googled the lyrics and the line that knocked my head off was “the deepest cuts are healed by faith”.  Oooooh.  Gave me big chunky goose bumps.  Faith.  Actually believing that I can wake up with a beautiful partner day to day and to experience love in a mega ginormous way.  That it could be real.  That this kind of love is … possible.  Gosh.  (Tail between legs).

I just googled lyrics to ‘Like a prayer’ (millenium child that I am) and was too dimwitted to actually get the meaning so (fear not fair maidens!) I googled ‘meaning’ and was highly entertained for a moment by the running debate/ scrag fest I landed upon!  Bless these puppies!  My synopsis of the bitch fest is that this song is about a love so sacred and passionate that it takes you to Godly realms and heights.  And, I would like to say, like JD in Scrubs, now that’s what I’m talkin about!

Yep, this is the love I’m after.  Falling deep, deep into that blissful union of magic, passion, ecstasy and connection.  And the stuff that was coming to me in my little God chitty chat was so beautiful, that it kind of floored me.  Loving touch, deep peace and overwhelming almost mind blowing grattitude.  Like how happy you get if someone just handed you a never ending packet of Tim Tams (for those of you who have never tried these, my deepest sympathy.  They are the King of chocolate solutions to mankind), but better ( if you can believe that).

Then we had to do two more meditations about what we had to give up to let this in and what we had to embody or become.  The big one for me was giving up hiding.  So, what stood out like a demon was that I am in hiding, even right now.  Not really saying who I am.  No photo.  No name.  No detail.  I think a little part of me is always incognito.  So, maybe you can let me know.  If you want to know and see the real me, I will sit with it and maybe reveal.  I’m thinking it can’t be a coincidence (cos I’m like a ninja of code cracking genius!).

Finally, with what I had to become, the main thing that stood out was’ vulnerable, open and real’.  Gasp.  Same message.  This homey is packing a punch.  I felt so safe writing under my little blogging blanket of anonymity.  Do I really need to get out from under the blankie?  Is it cold out there?  Let me know!  Tomorrow – Setting an Intention.  Till then, big squishy bear hugs your way xxx

 

Day 21 – The Olympic Games Release Ceremony! Going for Gold!

OK Just quietly, are all Pest control people on CRACK?!  After some serious bed bug breakdown trauma where my Pest Control specialists said I should just ‘wait and see’ cos they couldn’t find evidence of them, I managed to not stab them, not cry like a tantruming toddler deprived of it’s limbless sleep toy and – barely – keep breathing.  I’d like to see them ‘just wait and see’ how it feels for invisible creatures to chew on you like a small  nation of vampires striking Gold.  So, I changed tack, deciding on the ‘get the fuck out of the house’ effort to shift my mood.  After a group sound healing, (I live in Byron Bay – hippie town full of weird arsed stuff where this is normal) I spent the night with an old friend laying under a blanket by the beach looking at the stars and delighting in the light rain on my face.  Till 230am!  I felt alive.  Out of a movie alive.

Stars, rain, wind, ocean.  A good reality slap from mother nature to remind me that life is about more than blood sucking little mo fos.  It’s about laying under blankets with hotties!!!  Yes, he was a hottie, but it was just very G rated action under the blankie so calm down already ;).

Let’s focus.  Back to Kitty Kat and her antics!  Today was the biggie.  Basically I had to go through my journal so far and highlight anything I felt needed to be released.  Let’s just say that this was a generous list.  If my releasing bits were loaves and fishes, well….

Anyways…, they were not loaves or fishes so I wrote them all down and by their side wrote out what I would need to embrace in order to release them.  Then when ready, I had to create a ceremony where I read what I was letting go of out loud and physically embody the golden newbies.  I found myself looking like Whoopie in “Ghost”, deep breathing, shaking, crying (twice) and literally feeling things being pulled out of me like the big fat rat I saw at the beach.  Equally it’s like I felt the deepest peace crawl into my soul and take a firm seat with a kind of ‘you just try and move me sis’ attitude!  This homey was going nowhere fast.  Peace had come in and decided to join me for the ride, like a jeweled up pimp.

The ones that cracked the tear ducts were ‘living my truth’ and ‘encouraging my talent’.  These are biggies for me.  To actually declare that I am going to piss of my bullshitting and simply live my truth.  Sexually, sensually, creatively, a life full of truth.  Sweet mother give me a valium for what I’ve just signed up for.  And encouraging my own self to express my talents… well, this was like being the parent to myself now that mum n dad simply never could.  It was like making a decision to be the hero in my own story (can I have a cool cape, please, can i can i? :)).

This ceremony was a mixture of wildly cliched self help Tony Robbins fire walking chanting (OH & S people calm down… there was no real fire!) and a sweet little pussy cat simply knowing that life was about love, being love and living love.  It was a little bit of furry goodness.  And I kind of feel like the cat that just ate the something… what is that saying?…cream?  I can’t remember what the cat ate but I know it is good and that she is damned proud of herself.

So, that’s it for now.  I feel like I just threw up a bad curry and am ready for some juicy dessert.  Ooooh…. apparently tomorrow I get to start visioning the good shit.  Put Freud in a damned corner for a while cos that home boy has been flat out stalking me for three weeks.  Until then, juicy squishy hugs to you all. xxxxx  Ariella

 

 

Day 20 – Sorry Mumma, Papa, but, Nu-uh! I’m gonna live MY life, not yours!

Well campers, I would like to say that there is a VERY good reason as to why I have not posted for a few days.  Due to my recent bed bug situation, as informed, I hammered my room with diametateous earth.  Well… unfortunately for me, I am probably the 1% of the population that is semi allergic and I ended up in casualty not able to breathe!  Too many ariborne particles in my lungs restricting something that we all lovingly get kind of attached to in this life… AIR!

Just quietly, I love air.  It actually does it for me in a big way.  Particularly when I felt that I couldn’t get enough of it with every gasping breath that I took. It’s really unbelievable the amount of drama that I have created whilst trying to call in my one.  I mean not only is my room the opposite of a feng shuied love nest, I actually can’t sleep in it because it nearly fucking killed me.  Only God knows what it will do to any brave potential lover.

So after spending a few days at a friends recovering, I got home today and cleaned it all out (with a face mask like I’m from Armageddon).  But…. I’m happy to report that I can now breathe lots more air again and I am back!  What a blogging champion! 🙂

So… Day 20 was about the life that my parents did not live and coincidentally wanted me to live for them.  How friendly!  They migrated to Australia from peasant Spain and gave up everything for a ‘better life’, for their children.  I had to become an academic career legend scientific mathematician Buddha, for them to be ok.  You see, I was the forth and final child and was their last chance to make good of all they had given up for their damned ungrateful children.  Bless us, cuties that we are. 🙂

Unfortunately I tool it all on board and have spent way too much time trying to fit into ‘proper’ day jobs that make me want to rip my own spleen out (cutely).  Deep down I’m a wild creative… art, music, song, acting, writing.  It’s all good to me.  But, somewhere I accepted my fate and let it all go, feeling that it was somehow ‘bad’.  For the better part of 20 years,  I’ve never really let myself succeed as the artist that I am, still punishing myself for not being what they wanted. (Perhaps I am a mini Buddha after all.. hmmm)

Well, today we had to do a little ceremony where I imagine them releasing expectations and forgiving me completely.  Then I had to do the same for them.  Forgive them and release them from any further expectation.  It was pretty cool to feel that in this ‘spirit world’ they were actually pretty cruisy to let it all go.  And surprisingly, I found myself having to let go of them saving me.  I mean, really, save me?  I’m 38!  I’m telling you, this Kitty Kat is a deep soul ninja like a heavy scourer, digging up shocking gunge that I truly never saw.  Yep.  I wanted my daddy to save me from this hard hard world.  Oh sweet baby Jesus, how many times did I watch Gone with the Wind as a child?  Did I watch it and hit my head and have it make me believe that I needed saving.  I am not even going to touch this one further.  Needless to say Freud, one point to you.  Kitty Kat, another 10 on your board.

As for me, happy to be breathing!  Tomorrow… big Mo Fo Release Ceremony coming our way!  Yum!  Stay tuned campers! xxx

 

Day 18 – Healing the Wilderbeast hungry heart

Today was – for lack of a better word – frikken tops.  I’m feeling the light people.  The damned light is shining like a blow torch.  Today Kitty Kat was up for lots of free associating about how I was raised by both mum and dad.  It was about whether I felt supported, safe, let down, loved, connected, trust, kindness and fairness.  It was actually beautiful (aw shucks :)) to get this down and to then look at the list of what was missing in my childhood.

For me what was missing was a small semi trailer load as follows:

Nurturing, encouragement of talents, protection, being cherished, respect of boundaries, unconditional love and inspiration (my own add on).  Having said that, what my immigrant Spanish parents did very well, was basic hygienic care (its all about the food and the squeaky cleaning), basic life skills and consistency and dependability (even if I didn’t like the dependability, it was way dependable).

Then I had to read these statements aloud, releasing and forgiving my parents for failing to meet these needs and declaring a promise to do my absolute best to meet these needs myself, claiming them as mine fully and completely.  Wow, it was kind of surreal giving up the need of having someone else fulfill my endless wilderbeast pit of a need for unconditional love.  I still kind of want some stranger to just waltz in and love me like a beast for no real reason.  But apparently that’s my job first.  So homeys, I’m on the case!  Love self like small frenzied beast.  Check!

The bonus exercise today is to actively do one of these things for myself today.  So, today I’m going to delight in my presence in the world, as I am.  I am going to consistently delight in my aliveness and existence.  Let’s see how this pans out for me.

My killing mission is also in full force today.  I have bought a shit load of diametaceous earth and am on full scale potential killing mission of whatever the creatures are that persist to invade my life.  I’ve sent a call out to them all that they either exit or get shredded up like salami.  Choice is gold.

So, I will be slappin’ on a funky mask and going to town with this powdery stuff sprinkling it all over my life and belongings like Hansel and Gretel gone wrong.  Tomorrow is about reclaiming my disowned self.  What don’t I own?  What?  Come on baby… tell me tell me … 🙂 …

 

Day 16 – Childhood drama blah blah blah. Damned core beliefs!

Hands up here who is sick and fucking tired of hearing that your childhood had some kind of major bull shit impact on who you have become today?  Hands up here who would like to smash someone over the head (lovingly of course – with just a baby sledge hammer) every time they suggest that you have issues?

Well, I think I’m having some kind of workshop over-processing Day 16 breakdown.  For fuck’s sake.  I’m so bored with my shit that I’m actually thinking that maybe root canal sounds like fun entertainment.  Or screwing a limb off like leggo.

Anyways… (tanty now over, I think) today was about core beliefs.  I had to do a series of questions about disappointments in my childhood (surprise surprise) and what I made them mean about me and the world and in turn, how I have come to see the world at large.  Let’s cut to the chase right now campers and say that this is not a pretty picture.

Essentially I’ve been feeling like an unlovable alien who was dropped off here on earth but really doesn’t belong.  I’ve been seeing life as a series of cruel, unfair, hard experiences, one after another.  I’ve felt ugly and embarrassed about the very nature of myself, deeming it unacceptable.  And finally I’ve deemed love to make no sense at all, something strange not to be trusted and decided that I should stay closed and strong to stay safe cos life and people were cruel.

I mean, really what the Hell am I supposed to do with this?  If I could drag it out of myself and set it alight, believe me I would.  I think what is so frikken tricky about this self exploration thing is that it is basically ugly.  It’s the total crap inside that I’m dredging up.  Believe me, most people in my life would have NO idea that I have all this shit still inside me cos I come across as little Miss Inspiration, big smiles, quirky humor and kind eyes.  But somehow, this is making me think that every one has some caca dredgy shit down deep.  Really, I can’t be the only one on the planet with a big bucket of soul slime.  Give me some hope!!!! 🙂

So, today I have to go through my day simply observing these beliefs and see how much or little I’m operating out of them.  Also, we had to rewrite some beliefs that we would prefer to nurture and I thought I’d do this now rather than later so that I could lift the damned veil, so to speak and maybe not screw a limb off as a sport.

So, after spending some time looking at evidence that my beliefs were actually not true, (which is surprisingly easy to find when you actually look for it), I came up with a newby:

“I belong because I am love and life is love.  The world is my family and they fully accept me as I am.  I express myself fully and shine my light into their hearts.”

Pretty hey?  I had a little tear roll down my left cheek as I wrote it repeatedly.  Fuck it can be hard to surrender seeing myself as alone and unloveable.  I mean that may mean actually taking risks in life.  Real heart risks and they smell like toxic danger to me.  But I want them.  I want the toxic danger cos somehow, I know that that’s where the gold is.

More panting and breathing today,  But not as heavy.  Getting used to these transformational contractions.  Tomorrow – Transforming Identity.  Just kill me now!