My only response is simply: No.
As a mother, I would never wish last week on any person who has ever raised and loved a child. Freshly 18, baby daughter due to be born in July, my cousin was run over by a burgundy SUV on 28th street with the sun shining. He’d been through some tough times, and as such lived a lifestyle that I really never fit into. I hadn’t seen him since he was about 15 or 16 years old. Even then, visits with him and his mother, my first cousin, were very sporadic. I don’t know what kind of young man he had grown into. While I’m not sure if I would have ever known much as I wasn’t around that side of the family often, now I’ll never know for sure.
One always hears how hard it is to bury a child. After seeing his mother at the viewing, I never ever want to experience this. This is a trauma well out of my expertise, and nothing I said or did was going to help her heal. I held her and my sister as they sobbed in each other’s arms. Steadfast and unbiased in all situations surrounding this travesty, I allowed myself to accept being strong for my sister more than anything. She had spent a portion of her youth with them when he was much younger. She had helped in this boy’s life. She was absolutely devastated, so I cannot even imagine the havoc this was wreaking on my cousin, his mother.
I hate to say I benefited in any way from this tragic event, but I did. Life is so very fleeting. It isn’t fair. It can be cruel. It further signified to me to live it to the fullest. As cliché as that phrase is, I cannot allow fear or hesitation to dictate my life. I want to be able to take in every moment. Tomorrow could be it for us. I want to encourage others to savor their moments. I want to implore them to LIVE.
Yesterday was the beginning of the plunge into I CAN DO THIS! I have been putzing around for far too long, waiting for the right time, unsure of whether I was capable or good enough, and then disgusted with myself for second-guessing my awesomeness. I have been mentoring women for years, although unprofessionally, yet many have gone on to do some damn amazing things. I know it is because I nudged them; a little or a lot, I was able to play a positive role in their lives at some point.
My passion has been to make this my full-time job: building women, creating good mojo, and leaving a beautiful impression on those I am able to reach. I am asked all of the time how I can do the things I do, how I make my decisions, am I afraid of leaping with all of my heart and soul? Do I have the usual everyday problems so many other women experience? Have I struggled, do I know what it is like to be broke financially, and pretty much down and out? So many questions, yet so many simple answers.
I do the things I do because I am the only one who can make my life happen for me. I make my decisions by asking myself: will this have a negative or hurtful impact physically or mentally on another human being. I am a master of full on puddle-jumping, taking the plunge without fear, knowing I am feeding my passions. I experience so many of the same dilemmas as other women do: relationship drama, women against other women, children misbehaving, having teen daughters (yikes!), making mistakes here/there/everywhere (even financially)… While I truly believe that I am an incredible woman, I am quick to admit my faults! I revel in my imperfections!
Yes I have struggled. Being an emancipated minor, trying to finish high school, having children early (preemies) at a young age… It all sucked. Yes, I have been so broke, my cousin took me to a gentleman’s club and taught me how to work as an exotic dancer. The ability to support myself and then my daughters completely alone, was such an invigorating sensation. I could buy food without governmental assistance and even filed taxes from my tips! (<<< Law-abiding stripper right here!) I have fought depression and anxiety through the ups and downs of my existence; so yes, down and out.
I launched my online presence yesterday. I created my FB business page to cover my social media side. I have this blog of rawness and vulnerability. I CAN DO THIS! No more waiting for one more class. No more researching that extra certification that “may” help. No more standing in my own way. Sometimes, I just need to shut up and practice what I preach.
I am Enough.
My Bali blog created some definite backlash… some I knew would happen, some that opened the reality of vulnerability and authentic self. I sought refuge in cleaning my Jumanji style home after a ceiling collapse, tarot and angel cards, witchcraft, Tantra and strong female friends. I cringed at my own rawness, yet felt soothed with the understanding that I was exactly who I am. Several friendships have been dissolved since my home-coming. Several friendships have been strengthened since my travels started. Waves have been created from my thoughts become action, fires burned erratically at random moments. Water and Fire.
Using confidence in my choices and some strangely erupting inner strength, I lounged in a bath of sea salts. I wore a pouch of salt for three days and three nights; afterwards washing the salt into the lake and burning the wax paper and string that made the pouch necklace. In a beautiful purple glass dish, I burned dried lavender, white sage, red sandalwood, tobacco, and frankincense oil to smudge my home. Negative energy from my travel, my thoughts, my ceiling, and who knows what else, was vanquished. Everything smelled fresh, clean like after a rain shower. The walls of my home were no longer foreboding and I no longer wanted to hide from everyone. Whether I was right about a curse or not, the imbalance was restored. Water and Fire.
I thought I would regret some of the decisions I have made. I do not. I firmly accredit my durability in such a disturbed circumstance to my core vigor and the support of so many surrounding me. Falling and lifting myself up is something I have made an art of. Struggle is not in vain. I no longer amaze even myself. I just know that whatsoever needs completed, needs its conclusion. In doing so, I have become cognizant of how and where to initiate my fires, tend them prudently, and when to put out the flames. Aho. Water and Fire.
Coming home to a caved in ceiling in my bedroom with broken glass, insulation, and drywall debris everywhere, was just another happening in the last 2 months. Not 24 hours after arriving home, my favorite mirror in the lounge falls off of the wall. I also find that the dog has urinated profusely on my daughter’s mattress while I was away. It was definitely time to pull out all of the stops, mix up some witchy brew, and set that shit on fire. A pinch of red sandalwood, six white sage leaves, half a cup of dried lavendar, a scoop of tobacco, and a few drops of frankincense make a beautiful blaze simmering down to a lovely assemblage of smoking ash. The scents of each ingredient intermingled, leaving my entire falling apart home smelling of magical campfire.
This beginning was just the end of my day following some radical moments of augury. Blossoming into empathy, (still not a fan), the home felt heavy, and it felt more impeding than the effects of my last blog. I’ve carried a heavy heart most of the last day, feeling the repercussion of being authentic to myself. With all that had/has been occurring, I decided to pull some tarot for myself and a close friend. What do you know, the Knight of Swords cut away at me. He rides forward on a magnificent steed, embarking on a some new journey, committed to achieving whatever his goal is no matter what. On the other side of the fence, this card also inspires caution to be sure all pieces of the puzzle are in place before fully finishing the project, not being blind to possible mishaps or cutting corners. But, no matter what, he WILL succeed. I’m rather sure that has been the story of my life. To top it off, there was a beautiful poem associated with this card involving wondrous birds on Earth, the Hawk being the first mentioned. Reading of the hawk drew my attention back to a prior Medium counsel, instructing me to look for the Hawk, a very strong spirit animal to me. I believe I finally have found that Hawk.
Maybe an hour later, Brandy, my close friend, drew a card of her own from an older deck. She pulled the Unicorn for me. What are the chances of that happening? Truly?
“Keep charging ahead, and don’t take no for an answer. Expect miraculous solutions to appear.”
How fantastic is that? This beautiful Unicorn was made to be the charger of my prodigious Knight in intellectual cunning and emotional fortitude. There is an abundance of faith provided in these two cards working together; much like two astounding women helping each other over rocky terrain. Perfect. I could not have asked for a more perfect day for this day.
At the end of the day, I know where I stand on many situations, and know I have the support of so many superb people. My home is smudged and salted. My heart is centered and at peace. My mind is wondering, as always, but in laudatory form. My soul is vibrating on a gratifying level.
Two and a half awful weeks. (Out of three). Sickness, fevers, body aches and pain, clinic visit, and no sex up until the last four or so days. Barely touching, rarely happy, splattered with a strong touch of disconnection. Knowing at the end of this supposed holiday, there will be a full parting of ways. Rejection is such a painful experience, one that I have grown accustomed to receiving as well as giving, yet never at the same time. This time though, it was at the exact same moments.
I have been told over and over that Bali gives lessons. Bali provides catalysts to what you need to learn about and for, yourself. “Self” is amplified in all that surrounds mind, body, and soul in this lush humid exposure. Part of an educational experience concerning Bali and the self, is that the people you choose to engage are a reflection of yourself. Reflection is a loose term, cornering on whether it is something you see within you that needs change or fine-tuning, or something you may see in another that you want/need for yourself in order to fully come into your own. Recently, within the last few weeks I have seen a reflection that I feel tortured with. Is it a reflection of myself? Or is it a reflection of a search I am on?
Selfishness, greed, vanity, and everything revolving around money at all times… Hmmm… not exactly characteristics that I want to embody in my life, yet maybe I need to have a little more of, with healthy boundaries. Money comes and goes, and lately mine has just been going. Working towards manifesting abundance has been tricky business for me. I do not want to feel greedy or selfish. I do not want my life to revolve around money, whether seeking it, losing it, or thinking about it every time I turn around to something new and challenging. Selfishness is not something I typically fall prey to, but maybe I should just a little more. I seldom take into account my own emotions and needs when I feel I have so many others that I must care for and look to. Being in the midst of substantial idiosyncratic self-indulgence has caused me to shut down, take on a violent dispensation towards myself and those around me, and to neglect the creation of loving temperament.
Vanity is such a perplexing situation all on its own. Fuck, I love being beautiful; but not if my demeanor becomes insensitive to those in my vicinity. Coming up against this unyielding force of narcissism has been suffocating. To the extent of causing me self-doubt and even loathing of self for not being put-together enough, or just a sense of not being good-enough. Oh the pain involved with feeling so low when ordinarily I glow with self-love and appreciation. Feeling hurt for others around me when judgment is cast because something or someone isn’t “pretty” or “aesthetically-pleasing”. My gut is in a massive twist of repressed ferment.
Uncultured has been a term used, even if just in jest, which resonated with much of what I come up against. I am boisterous in my joy, obnoxious with humor, and lusty with rambunctious excitement. I am deeply entwined with sorrow, gravely compelled to seriousness, fiercely violent in tumultuous conditions. I express my Goddess fully in nearly all sensations. Does this make me uncultured? Am I uncouth? Truly, if my poise is ungraceful, perhaps those thinking such should look within themselves and explore why this has caused some responsiveness. Perfection is not a desire I hold close to heart. Fuck perfection. Let me be riotously imperfect, sprawling in gratitude for the opportunity to be alive, to discern!
Rejection. Lackluster turbulence in a melting cascade of heinous pain. Extraordinary affliction shooting through every level of comprehension. Insufficient pabulum causing mindless detriment. I have been through the wringer on this one. From the outside source of a man who started one of my many journeys into self and change, and then from the inside source of knowing this is not what I want in my life. As per discussion with a mentor recently, I must have requested of the Universe something about this divine being in order to experience him in my life. After much reflection I have decided that this “something” was a softness in caring. I needed, and still need to learn to be gentle with myself; to honor myself in my thoughts, physical need, and overall health. To be shown self-care, even if it went overboard for me in the end, just to have that hint of what it is to be selfish for my own needs. I can set periphery to what is acceptable for me in showing gentleness to the self, and not overindulge causing the exact thing I find reprehensible.
In the end, I know I gave love, and still do in some molecular aspect. The sweeping off my feet was short-lived, and Bali showed us both sides of each other that we did not care for, as well as showing me a side of myself, staunched, that I abhorred. Not being able to fully express my truth, my heart, my love, left me in a state of restrained pandemonium. Caring too much to hurt his feelings, to not be loving towards him, to exclaim in unkind manner my disapproving grieving that was building up inside… There was/is goodness there. It is just lost; so very very lost in what maybe he thought he was, where he is journeying, who he wants in his life, I just don’t know. The gorgeous man I dove into in Australia is not quite the one I wanted to run from in Bali.
Apperception of a distinguishing grace, but knowing this thrill was not the “in-love” that many seek; that I seek. I loved his gentleness, caring, and attention. I love pieces of him like I love so many pieces of others whom have been in and out of my life.
Bali has definitely given me lessons to occupy my mind in reflecting upon how I can become a better version of myself. Lessons to love those around me with open mind and heart while protecting myself from the negativity. I am learning to make life happen for me and not to me.
Bali, the pushy island of self-exploration and awareness.
A little bit of everything has collided to make today what it was. I’m sitting in my hotel after some Tibetan Tantra work, along with video watching, finishing meetings this morning, having a somewhat serious discussion with a man I have an interest in, texting Auntie Carol, and viewing a romantic comedy. One thing I knew to expect, but still didn’t seriously anticipate, was the blocks opened through sexual exploration and healing with my Tantra homework and a Skype session with a client. Feeling a little drained and slightly bored waiting for a dinner meeting, I decided now was as good a time as any to add to my blogging journey.
After my blog about past lovers, coming back to question, even haunt me, I realized some of those same men came to this via my LinkedIn page. I wrestled myself for a moment with feelings of sorrow for them, as I basically put their private messages to me on blast. Then, it just became about me. This was my life. This is my journey, part of which is the pain in not being accepted and loved the way I should when they had the chance. I am not sorry for putting their messages of regret on my blog, but am sorry that somehow I just wasn’t enough or maybe I was too much for them at the time. I’ll never really know, and not sure if I want to have that knowledge. And then I am faced with the dilemma of incorporating another man into my life, from yet another previous post, whom I am slowly closing my heart to. I wanted to, didn’t think I really was, but through my adventure of self-pleasure today I understood that I am.
Part of my homework was G-spot stimulation with Yoni Massage, and with it came much release in tears. While I was not able to fully feel my G-spot, I received greater pleasure from the massage aspect and the breaking of the block which inadvertently began the building of self-protection. I examined past experiences understanding I have always given more than I receive, in nearly every circumstance. I deserve great love, and not to be someone’s stepping stone to theirs. And yet, I have now been told on several occasions in several situations with Medium and energy work, that I will never fully reach my match, or that I do not have a match. Perhaps some of my wall-building and closing off has to do with receiving messages of unmatched ability, or the feeling of being alone forever, or the distance and time between myself and someone I love.
I will always remain a very open person and being open is not a problem I have. Self-protection is a problem I have. I allow and take on others’ anguish, making those a priority and myself secondary to the healing flow. Even in my session with clients, this one in particular, I somehow find way to diminish my own needs in order to concentrate solely on the emotional healing process of others. I am glad that I am able to provide aid in my sojourn of truth as I am helping to heal others; but the need to consciously evaluate my participation forgoing my own devoirs, is coming forward more and more. Being strong doesn’t necessitate being hard. I can be soft and yielding, yet still capable of shielding myself from anything that does not serve me.
I’m not one usually for frilly conversation and pretty talk. I prefer deep substantial exchange with hearty sincerity and enjoyable company. Finding those to provide this essential need is proving burdensome, offering more fortitude in the observation that a change of physical venue is absolutely a must. I do not need classes to find myself or teach me who I am. I need interactions and experiences, insight and philosophy, love and prejudicial forbearing in the art of emotional self-harm/conflict. I need unapologetic infallibility in naked words. Stripped bare is not how my soul is, but chooses to be in order to give. In reverence to my strong endowment of offering, I receive truth in return. Accepting that truth can sometimes be of great difficulty as it is not what I want, but most unquestionably need.
At this time certain aspects of love do not serve me. Therefore a wall of veneration is constructed for my need of conservation. I teach it, ergo my recognition of needed use in my own life. Closing off is not necessarily dreadful, but it definitely was not fully anticipated to the extent of where I am at now. I am not in an atrocious head space of negativity, but consummation. Attaining a small form of enlightenment for who I am is just a deeper perception of the transformation taking place in my life. It can only get better from here, right?
Often, I find myself taking days off, lounging when I really shouldn’t, or sinking deeper into negative feelings and circumstances. Today, I took a me-day because I could and had to. I spent almost an entire day shedding negativity.
Starting with last night, I barely answered texts, messages, emails, or the phone in general. I may have viewed several, but with no response. I didn’t have anything to respond for, and I didn’t trust myself to be particularly positive. Much like yesterday’s blog, I know several people are beginning to show signs of annoyance, and I would rather internalize than deal with bad attitudes that are of no use to me to pull myself out of the hole. I continue to support and pour from my non-existent cup for those that depend on me or look up to me for guidance, but who can I turn to when I need guidance? I’m still human. I still falter.
Grounding is a very necessary need in my life right now and I took it very seriously today. I walked my bestfriend Mozzie for 30 minutes in the park, stopping for treats and to lick the walking elderly (she did the licking). After returning her to home, I went back out for 20 minutes for a run and lunges. Upon my return to the house, I just knew it wasn’t enough and needed fire and water elements involved. I filled the bathtub with inferno water and delicious bath salts smelling of jasmine and peony. Still feeling a little ridiculous with my meditations and envisioning light and shape, I worked on my space element breathing, surrounding myself with protective white light. For an hour and a half, I meditated, read a book, and pleasured myself in the water. I definitely need to work on self-pleasure as part of my Tantra home-play, so four orgasms it was!
So Much Relief! I have been low in libido and any want to touch myself since leaving Thailand. Enriching lust for my own body took over, and I began to feel whole again. I did not realize how integral orgasmic relief was to my very essence, that without any, negativity encroaching on my personal space will slowly seep in and be reluctant to leave. Everything since my homecoming had attacked in dark hive clouds leaving me feeling as though I was drowning, and no one truly understood. Now I understood! I can’t lose my sexuality and ability of self-pleasure, or the drowning only ensues.
Forward to the still lingering need to ground myself, I packed some lunch, water, sage, jasmine, anise star, candle and my stones. I headed to the peninsula to find some curing in the earth. About 20 minutes into driving the peninsula, I found my favorite trail, the Dead Pond Trail. Barefoot (I do not recommend this during tick season), I walked approximately 50 yards in until I was secluded in trees and shrubbery. I spent almost an hour sitting on a blanket on the ground, burning my herbs and candle, allowing my stones to soak in the sun, and eat my lunch while I spoke positive affirmations to myself.
Afterwards I walked the trail, still barefoot, for an hour, continuing to speak affirmations to myself as well as cry. I cried for all of the negativity I had allowed to breach my usually robust walls, and asked Mother Earth to take it all away. I kneeled in the sandy trail of dead leaves and new grass, basking in the sun, meditating, smoothing my sacred bowl (Yoni), and encouraging a womb cleansing. I have encountered so many new terms since entering a realm of sexual positivity and tantra, some even sounding silly and hippie-like to myself. Womb cleansing is the act of clearing negative energy from your feminine divine and regrouping to provide fresh solace and invigorating assurance of the self.
I drove home in Sassy (my fantastic Kia Soul), feeling quite sassy myself, barefoot and with all windows down. I felt drained and awakened all at once. The sun is definitely my greatest ally besides myself, and sitting here typing away and childishly chewing an entire cup of Juicy Fruit strawberry gum, I find myself so very uplifted. My chewing gum skills are probably on par with a level 99 Grand High Master Alacorn Wizard. My goddess skills… a work in progress…
Another blockade on the journey of developing self: learning to maneuver social media in a way that won’t push people away, but bring them closer in order to assist and heal. And to also not mention much on the network as it is.
My life has been a constant up and down, vicious cycle, round and round of good then bad, then bad again, then worse, then good. Right now, I am sitting in hardship and struggle. I have been too open with my negative emotions (which I am still entitled to) on my now reactivated Facebook page. Having this bestowal of gloomy provocation since returning home from my Thailand adventure, has left me rejected and crestfallen in all areas of my life. None of my universal human needs are being met. Affliction seems to be the anecdote on repeat.
I feel awful for the people who seem to care for me, invariably witnessing the melodrama that has become my life as of late. No matter what some tell me, I read between the lines. I see the annoyance, hear it, feel it… and need to close off. I know I am being negative. It is remarkably difficult to feel as though I have done nothing but battle uphill since birth.
Everyone deals with predicaments in their lives and gets through it, so I should as well, right? How about I tell you to fuck off if you have that thought process? I HAVE been strong. I HAVE overcome intense obstacles. I have done things many could not even imagine doing just to survive in my depraved environment. I have suffered in order to make the best decisions of sacrifice to be assured that my children never experience an ounce of the immense anguish which made my childhood.
So when I am down and out; offer me love, please. Because that is what I would do for you. Understand that my soul is enervated from lengthy periods of going it alone so as not to upset others or create annoying dependency. Negativity is not my name, it is not where I wish to dwell, and added negativity from the audience is not the remedy for the situation. Grasp the concept where yes, in order to pour your cup must be full, but I no longer even have a cup. I have to rebuild it from scratch with my gutted heart and damaged hands.
So the next time you think, “here she goes again”, “more drama in her life”, “she is constantly negative”, maybe you should re-align your thinking with giving a little bit of love. Or choke on your words. I prefer the love though. I always give it; I’m just asking to finally receive it. I deserve it and am worthy of it though my light may be dampened slightly at the moment.
At 16 years old, I was working as a busgirl and hostess in a “fancy” hotel restaurant. I was a junior in high school, trying so very hard to just be a teenager, even in my adult status… It never quite worked. One woman noticed the agitation behind my fantastic teen exterior, and I found someone I could confide in. I was able to unravel the pain of my family situation, most of what led to me being in Erie, and where I was at that moment.
I always attribute her to saving my life. Sure, I have been through so much more since she pulled me from the family situation and set me on a path of legal independence, but she was the one person who loved me enough… I didn’t quite realize until today how much she has always cared.
She reached out to me via Facebook after I put my blog out in the open and asked to visit me. It has been years without seeing each other, bumping into one another on and off at jobs, online, but never quite being in the moment with each other. And she lives a whole block away from me. What the hell. So, she came over today.
Part of my blog really reached her, like I am sure it has many women who have since reached out to me, but she of course had to pull out that I gave the strip club owner her name, Amy. Haha!!! I was just trying to keep it anonymous but purposeful. Go me! We had a great laugh after a lot of tears. We dove into what had elapsed over the years between us; her history, mine, until 3 hours passed by. There was so much cleared, lots of love and understanding, and of course tears in the end. She called me pseudo-daughter and told me how much she loved me and always had. Finally, I had some closure and clarity as to why she had disappeared from my life so long ago after saving me.
I had been placed into her sister’s home with kids and a husband, and… it just was not what they thought it would be or what I needed. Amy was apparently pushed out of the situation, which I was never aware of, and the reasoning behind her desertion. I hardly remember the almost year I was there. The memories aren’t bad, but they weren’t easy. I explained to her how upset I get when people in that time period would tell me how difficult I was as a teen, because I don’t remember anything other than I was already living an adult life, didn’t drink, no drugs, nothing illegal… I was pretty damn good in my eyes from what I see in teens today. After discussing things I happily remembered and the situation I was placed in, it was better understood that I was just a teen, rebellious, but with cause behind it from my history. And I have ALWAYS had a mouth on me. I had left that home to continue my own life and path, and lost Amy through the process.
We have so much in common, and are so similar in many ways, I am proud and glad she could think of me as pseudo-daughter. All I have ever wanted was a family and to be loved like I should have been. She knew that. I deserved that. With moving forward with a new life, new ideas, new everything basically, I at least know now that I always have her.
I’ve never had another woman hold my hands, look me in the eyes, and tell me that they love me and always have. I cried then, and I’m crying now. An unconditional mother-figure loved me. It is so hard to even put into words the emotions that are materializing from the joy and the sorrow of this knowledge. I know I have to think of it as what I can have from this point forward, and not what I could or should have had. The past can heal, but can’t be changed. I’m just glad that baring my vagina and soul journey in a blog could open a door long thought lost or closed, and bring the people I deserve in my life to the forefront.
I love you Amy.