So I woke up this morning to a message.
In neat cursive, it was 'please write.'
I find it fascinating when I get messages, just in terms of how they are expressed to me in the grid. They manifest in all kinds of ways from pictures to tarot cards to printed words and even cursive words where clearly there's a personality on the other side of that message.
To see the grid, er, The Grid, sit in a grounded way, whatever is comfortable. Put your hands up to your eyes and close your eyes and observe. I think this technique is referred to as 'palming' by some eye expert healing person who wrote a book on this subject. Learn to hold your focus longer over time and you will see all kinds of interesting things.
When I was first learning or waking up, one of my psychic friends mentioned neuro linguistic programming. He said to observe the structure of your own mind and how you understand and process information. For example. Do you see things in a straight line from left to right? In terms of events in time. Or do you move forward as if you are walking down a road, with time moving past you at your sides? I feel that this navigational awareness has helped me a lot, as a healer and in terms of processing my own 'stuff.' On many levels.
Yeah, I know. I digress. Just a little bit.
I've written to a few people this morning. One friend who I'm just not totally sure about sometimes, is going through some difficult and painful issues. She and her daughter, together. I met her in a women's support group for victims of intimate domestic violence or abuse. I really wanted her to feel supported and I know there are people who are pulling her strings (and mine). Not to mention the administrators for this group! I made it a point to write to her because despite the fact that she may have started out in the enemy camp, or not ... I know there is constant shift of influence over the "Intel presence" and the personnel in play ... I would like to think of her as a friend. She has been so very supportive of me! I've got to show you the brainwave information she sent me and I don't want to forget.
Then I wrote to my son. Who, coincidentally is stationed in NC, where Hurricane Florence (currently a Category 4 Hurricane as reported by the news) is getting ready to strike! They are in a direct path. Oooh ra, Marines. At least, that's how I expect they will be thinking of it, safe and snuggled up tight in preparation for a big storm on a military base. Prayers, of course, for all in the path of this storm.
I even started a written letter! Which I do sometimes. Actually, a lot. My life moves at a slow pace at times, dealing with such serious healing issues and taking the time to do this balances and grounds me and even slows the pace of some things in a very good way. I think it is part of taking care of myself and others.
Also regarding messages. I get so many of them. To people who send them, especially in photographs and artwork and images. Just so you know. I try very hard with these. Maybe sometimes I try too hard because I am so glad that someone is reaching out to me and I appreciate it. But most of the time they tend to confuse me. I try now to not judge and flow through what I see, to not be stressed. But I don't always get it. I try to pay attention to what triggers me and beyond that I let things go. I keep feeling like I want to share this and say thanks. And also let you know what's going on when we struggle with this.
So I'm still figuring out who sent me that message. Or what it was. I mean, it was tied to something specific.
Or not. I thought about writing to you on email. I say thought like I've given up. I've considered writing to you again recently. I stopped because it was so uncomfortable for me and I thought you wanted me to. For you to see my schitzophrenia. My wounds! And the fact that you so rarely wrote back. Which was probably best, actually. Perspective does wonders for one's understanding of reality and what's been happening.
I was considering writing to you today, in fact.
I don't know what I would say! Hi, how are you?
Or was it a message that was meant to mislead me? There's my always handy paranoia. It may have been partial and it felt like there was one more word to the left of the message just out of my view. Still thinking about it.
Could it have been my own handwriting? Me having asked someone else to write to me even years ago now, and then me seeing it again as a message? At one of the so many times the ... who are you guys? "The people on the other side of the world" did not respond to requests for help? Or something. When did I do that?
I noticed that it was 19 days ago since I've written here. I've been talking to my son, the Marine. A few other people. Sharing my story again a bit. Also having an interesting new set of memories and understanding from, I think, the time of the Lost Civilization. Before about 10,000 years ago. Atlantis as referenced by Plato. And yet there is something that isn't right about time here. How it is measured or maybe how it moves. Its nice to have a blog to write and record things on.
I had a memory of something ELSE I didn't know had happened. That camping trip. A reach into my absolute gapped consciousness is what that seemed to be and I don't know if I have fully processed it. But you took me away and I didn't know who I was. At all. But I knew you somehow, or that part of you, which is pretty interesting to me. Kay's husband. Why is it such a gap for me to get to the real you?
I used to have this fantasy with my husband. That he started off gay and I had ... 'reformed him' in love, to being straight. I mean, we were happy for the most part. Really, except for the sex. There was obviously a wound or several, but we had a decent connection. I mean, I liked sex and we kept it pretty regular and active in our relationship. But there was also something that wasn't right and I knew it.
I used to have this other fantasy about great sex. In my imagination I would imagine a super gratifiying sexual relationship with someone, usually whoever I was with at the time, but it would be after some terrible thing had happened to me. Even rape. Which is just too ironic. I think it has been part of the Original Cause for my healing picture from other lives. Were they lives I longed to share with you? Not for this issue but for the rest. Tori Amos says it, 'give me life, give me pain, give me myself again.' But the thing was just wanting to have really really great sex with someone in order to heal. You know. Lose your pain in the bliss and oblivion of safe love and passion. Have someone kiss away the old wounds and imprint something good in its place. Heal it. Also to do this for another is, I think, amazingly intoxicating and intimate and wonderful. To be wanted and received in giving to another, rather than taking, can be such total bliss. Of course, all of this in the presence of Love.
Maybe it was my need to give, to allay my own wounds somehow? The memories of that camping trip and how gapped I was, to my current self. And yet not, I hope. How damaged I was after what happened to me. Also this is my first recall of it, that trip out. I keep getting a gap in my typos lately also and I think the clue is 'the gap.' Did I have black nail polish there, like I have had with the others? I can't even imagine that. Not that I have much on 'the others' yet either. But I know something very strange has happened to me, that I have become ... well. 'Classified.' Right?
I'm becoming aware of more of these experiences but I am thinking, this was one of if not the first one?
I'm feeling totally scared now, that I missed something and there's something bad that happened. But when I see you and the photo that triggered me on this side of my awareness the first time, I don't feel that way. When I saw that photo, with the canyon walls behind you ... the first time I was looking into the reflection of your sunglasses, I had been thinking I was seeing myself. Only, it was too small to tell for sure. Also the strangest memories and psychic paranoia came to me when I saw that of current circumstances and people surrounding me. I was going through some scary healing crisis of brain injury at that time and I thought you were having an affair with someone I knew. It was so painful and I was so jealous. OMG. So I think I got to the place where, in my mind, the woman in the reflection of your glasses was someone else. But I also think it was a key issue between Kay and you at the time.
I'm so glad that happened!! It was such a breakthrough.
The camping trip. Aren't you?
Now I understand why, over the last two years I just wanted to do this so badly - I was trying to recall it. But we did do it. We could do it again, you know. And I'm so glad I know.
I was thinking about this recently. About knowing vs. not knowing. I think a lot of people would not want to know if something really bad happened to them. For me it helps me make sense of my life, make sense of who I am and what and why it happened. I get to find and own my whole self. Its about self acceptance, I think. Also I think this is so helpful to be able to do in the presence of love.
Also there was intimacy and understanding of some of the hidden issues that needed to come out. Getting something real and also explanatory for me, about you. Where or why you have had pain and guilt. Forgiving you. But transforming you through my forgiveness also. Right? This is a core issue and one I was kindof aware of, but not sure until now. I'm so glad to be confronting it finally. Its not what I thought it was, dealing with it.
I remember when I met you the first time. You were home from college and I was there at your house. I was introduced to you and I thought you were so incredibly nice. And then I noticed you were incredibly cute. You were so much older to me then and I thought, way over my head. As in I was just a goofy girl and you were way too cool to even notice me.
I never told you this! Debating. Thought it over the other day, this story. You probably don't know this, unless you do somehow. But. I one time stole one of your dad's coins from his basement stacks. I wasn't trying to get rich or anything. Or be spiteful. Just that he had stacks and stacks of those beautiful coins and after seeing them I wanted just one. I was hoping he would not notice. But now I think I might have done that to stay connected to you over time, without me even knowing it. I don't have it anymore, it was stolen from me years ago. But I was thinking I wanted to tell you this story.
I feel stupid writing this. Like I was put up to it and now I've written all of this stuff and it makes no sense. Trying not to judge and respond. Things have been rough. At least I have been feeling things more clearly and also I think, 'gapping' less. I would like to put out something more constructive for you but I don't know what. I don't want to scrap what I've written despite this. I miss you. Or the you that I think you are, the good things to reach for in reaching out. I believe in them! Even still. And yet, part of me is beyond giving up and of coming back to it all. Something feels way different. Venus is in Scorpio.
That's good right?
You know that writing is therapy right?