All you have to do is realise it

Tags

escape the matrix, Subconscious, The matrix, The Unconscious

A couple of nights ago my husband and I were reviewing where we were at in terms of the different aspects:  physical, emotional, subconscious, and our conscious intent.  When I got to the subconscious, I was of course aware of everything that’s been going on recently in terms of past memories and their effects but I calmly turned my attention to it in the present moment.

I tend to look away when I’m thinking and my gaze fell on the clean white venetian blind, beside it the gold sheen of the curtain.  Yes, I said, yes.  It’s clear.  It’s clean.

I’ve been spending more time in the present moment lately.  It feels so nice, when I ‘get there’ although of course I’m always already there; the trick is to realise it.  So if sex can be as easy as put this in there, writing can be as easy as writing, and life can be as easy as living 🎠

With metta

Visions of female power and creativity

Tags

Feminism, reality, Work, writing

I felt this person come into me, like being possessed, except that it was me, coming into the present moment.

I always wanted to live in a gypsy caravan.  I actually did for a while in a person’s garden when I was sixteen.  It had two narrow bunks that came down from the ceiling on chains, like hammocks.

I’ve been away from the alternative world for a long time now, wrapped up in working in a professional environment.  My husband and I are going to a party soon and there will be three, possibly four vegans there in a room together.  It will be the first time that we’ve been in a room with so many vegans aside from a meet up.

If I don’t have to go out to work to this job, what will I look like, how will I dress?  (Warm, I have a long wish list for Cotswold Outdoor (if you’re reading this, I am happy to write detailed reviews for you; I am quite capable of writing an entire blog post devoted to the joy of a new winter coat.)

I’m going ‘back’ to who I really am, back to being really me.  Maybe I’ll rediscover elements of my early punk/vintage style.  When my new tattoos are completed I’ll be able to wear sleeveless tops and dresses and show them off.  Maybe I’ll dress up sexy and we’ll go out.  I’m going forward, with awareness, with this love for myself, with this feeling of being loved, without the lost exploitation of me at sixteen.

Remembering who I was originally, as a child.  And now I have my experience, the awareness to make the most of my talents.  Even back then, it was all about writing, sex, love and finding out who I was.

I have always been so anxious at work:  as a student, knees knocking together on my first day at placement,  feeling like I was going to pee myself on the bus to college; even now, I park up and have to psych myself up to go into work each morning.  At my computer I am over tense with hunched shoulders and I type too heavily on the keyboard.

I’m often late because I am so anxious about whatever it is I am doing.  It’s never felt comfortable.  The body knows.  I wasn’t meant to be there.  Not because I wasn’t good enough, but because it wasn’t me.  I like to be quiet and alone.  I like to be outdoors.  I like to be creative.  I like to think deeply about things.  I like to be with my people.

Is this a midlife crisis?  Or is it, as my husband said, a midlife awakening?  I’m looking around, I’m seeing the billions of ‘suggestions’ for life, I’m realising what I want.

 

 

See yourself as beautiful (Warning: sexually explicit)

Tags

healing, love, marriage, sex

I’ve got a perfect body, though sometimes I forget

I’ve got a perfect body cause my eyelashes catch my sweat

(Regina Spektor)

We went a week without having sex after getting back from Marrakech.  The sex we had in Marrakech seemed to be some kind of unlock, releasing things/me.  It felt like healing had occurred.  When we had sex again my husband took me to another dimension.  It was as if I had been waiting, searching, all through the intervening years since the first sexual encounter, until now.  I feel like I finally worked out how my body works.  Or rather, like I finally remembered how it works.

Because I used to know, and then I forgot.  It became layered under peer pressure (actually from my female peers this was often anti not pro sex), my mother saying about me:  where is she, whoring around again.  Relationships, unrequited love.  There was no place, no mirror I could find that supported or reflected my own particular brand of feminism.

Anyway, this is a personal not a political blog so back to the other night, in bed with my husband:  He took me to another dimension.  I feel like I’m in a special place, I whispered.  And there we were, both tripped into somewhere else.  I often go somewhere else during sex but I often go there by myself:  drifting in and out of tried and tested fantasies that help me relax enough to come.  Like I’m avoiding just being  present.  But that night, I thought to myself:  here you are, having sex WITH MY HUSBAND.

WITH MY HUSBAND.  I realised, of course, we are designed so perfectly.  He puts his penis into my vagina, it touches me just there and I…  Yes, I come, I come.  Oh my God, I came and came, without stopping, one orgasm rolled into another, began as the previous one was ending, as if the sensation of one ending was enough to trigger the next one.  And even just laying there afterwards, the slightest brush, the slightest movement, the slightest thought started it all off again.

FYI we weren’t doing anything unusual, we were in the missionary position which is good for sensation and touching the right spots inside.  But like everything, sex is really a mind game.

Looking in the bathroom mirror I saw myself as beautiful.  For a few precious moments I understood why he doesn’t like me wearing any make up on my face.   He wants to see me.

 

 

 

BoJack Horseman

Tags

Bojack Horseman, Feminism, Netflix, Vegan, veganism

This is for anyone who has not yet discovered this show.  It is a Netflix original, four seasons out on there now with a fifth having been commissioned, so you can relax, tune in, turn on and drop into the wonderful world that Raphael Bob Waksberg and team have created for us.  What have we done to deserve such a thing?  Who knows.  Just sit back and Enjoy!

What is it about?  Well, it’s a cartoon.  It is for adults.  It is very, very funny, funny enough to cause actual physical pain.  It is about Hollywood and fame and consumerism.  It is about depression, alcoholism and addictions.  Sometimes it is very moving, sometimes sad.  It contains layer upon layer of perfectly written (and drawn) jokes, observations and social commentary.  The opening credits, the backgrounds, no effort has been spared to make every little detail rich and full of depth.  To do it justice I’d have to re watch it all from the beginning, notepad in hand, as there will be much I have missed.  However, I know there’s a good chance I won’t do that, so this will have to do.

I forgot to mention that it has animals and people in it.  So a dog might go out with a human, a cat with a mouse.  I almost missed this bit out because it doesn’t really help convey what it is actually like to watch it.

Oh, and Raphael Bob Waksberg,  the creator of the show, is a feminist and a vegan.  This means that he is aware of gender bias in comedy and so you will see things such as a ship’s captain being a woman.  Not because it’s a story about how a ship’s captain is a woman, but because there’s a ship in the story, it needs a captain, and ship captains can be men or women.  This shouldn’t be remarkable, but it is.

Re the vegan bit, in the chicken episode (I am a vegan, so that’s the clip I’ll be including) there’s a line that goes: (describing the conditions that food chickens are kept and killed in) WHAT IF WE’RE IN SOME DYSTOPIAN NIGHTMARE AND WE’RE THE MONSTERS?

Did I mention the amazing writing?  A male character is confronted by a woman crying:  As a typical American male I am woefully ill prepared to handle a woman’s emotions.  I was not taught, and I refuse to learn.

It’s not just the big stuff that resonates.  In the middle of a spaghetti disaster, someone shouts, if only we had some olive oil to stop it sticking.  Another character shouts back, olive oil doesn’t actually prevent spaghetti from sticking, that’s just a myth.

Sublime.

The meaning of life

Tags

escape the matrix, Minimalism, Minimalist living, Narrowboat, The matrix

To have a solid shelter, with heat that comes on with the flick of a switch, clean drinking water and hot running water with the turn of a tap, comfortable seating and sleeping areas, plenty of bedding and warm clothes, a washing machine…  These things are denied to many.  Even one thing off this list would represent enormous progress, even luxury, to some.  Many of us who have these things do not fully appreciate them.  Not only that, the progress and comfort they represent and provide becomes grossly extended.

One of the aspects of Marrakech that we  appreciated the most was the sense of timelessness.  The hotel we stayed in was decorated with traditional blue mosaic tiling.  The orange buildings looked as though they had always looked that way.  No one had decided that everything needed updating to fit the latest fashion in decor or architecture.

Contrast that with here in the UK, people changing their furniture before it has even worn out, painting the inside of their homes a different colour according to what’s in that season.  ‘Needs updating’ such a spurious phrase, that has helped give rise to the largely unnecessary industries of  producing new ‘kitchens’ and ‘bathrooms’ and the mind boggling range of paint colours on offer.  Once upon a time there would have been a very limited range of possibilities according to the natural materials and pigments available, simple whitewash, Suffolk pink, yellow ochre, depending on where one lived.

Of course, we need to have shelter for our physical bodies and engaging with the physical world is part of our experience.  But we got so distracted with making the home, not simply a comfortable shelter, but by over extending that need into the myriad of wallpaper options, carpet choices and superfluous decorations available that we have today.

We forgot that the other aspect of our existence, as well as being here and experiencing everything we experience, is to remember (or rather, to not forget) who we are.  But when people are not doing something to their homes, they are watching television.  And no one’s talking about this:  no one’s talking about finding out who you really are, because most people are just following the programming and running to a script.  You look around, everyone’s doing it, everyone’s getting a mortgage,  improving their home, working to pay the bills, making the best of things, not talking about anything.  Everyone’s doing it, so it must be okay.  But as I have quoted before from someone on the internet:  look at what the herd is doing, and do the opposite.

Someone my husband worked with asked him what we did as we don’t watch television.  My husband said, and he told me it actually felt weird to say it aloud, we actually spend a lot of time just talking.  His work colleague said, but you can talk with the television on.  But you can’t, you can’t have a really good conversation, one that can get all deep and meaningful, unless you turn the television off.

Nature abhors a vacuum, so as soon as you get rid of the television, the paint charts- just paint everything neutral or leave it as it is; get rid of the clutter and unnecessary possessions, the stuff…  Then awareness floods in instead.

There’s probably an optimum level of comfort.  If things are too hard, that takes so much time and energy that there’s no space for creativity.  If things get too comfortable, one can be lulled into a false sense of security.  Somehow by being too comfortable we become less aware: in our centrally heated comfort zone it’s easy to fall back to sleep.  A bit of ‘discomfort’ helps to keep us awake and alert.  We need to be kept on our toes.  We’re here for a physical experience, so to feel the change in temperature, to notice some physical effort, is not necessarily discomfort at all.

As I have said before, I am all about putting the theory into practice, otherwise, what’s the point of all this theorising?  So bearing in mind all that I have said above, how do I want to live?  What way of living do I think would be most beneficial for me, for the both of us, my husband and I?

Well I suppose it would be something like this:  something small- just an adequate size for what we need- so no room to accumulate ‘stuff’.  Something that gives us a simple life, with as few distractions as possible.  Something that feels a bit ‘off grid’ compared with being in a house.  So a boat:  just big enough for what we need, with solar panels but also has an electric hook up, gas hot water for washing up and shower, a woodburner.  The boat’s water tank is filled via connecting a hose pipe to a water tap a few feet along the bank.  A twin tub washing machine sits in a shed on the bank, is filled from the same tap and used outdoors on the bank, plugged into the boat via an extension lead.  Using a washing machine outdoors appeals to me in a back to nature way, and is still comfortable compared with hand washing one’s clothes in a river.  Plus there is a launderette up the road which might be a nice option in the winter.

Meet Kindred Spirit:

Feel the fear and do it anyway*

Tags

Decisions, Dropping out, escape the matrix, Living on a boat, Narrowboat, reality, The matrix, Travel, Travelling

Choices are very scary.

I’ve spent the last week trying to recover my energies** whilst at the same time using them up on sorting the house out.  I’ve been concentrating on raising my frequency, eating well, eating vegetables from above ground, sleeping in separate beds, no sex at all, no alcohol etc.

Getting ready for new carpets coming and estate agents photographs a week from now.  It’s easy (for me) to get totally obsessive and exhausted, seeing more and more cleaning and painting that could be done whilst knowing that I can’t/won’t do it all.  At least this time I have stopped and rested at certain points, after I was tired and achey but before I was totally exhausted or in actual pain.  Some of it I’ve enjoyed, and certainly have enjoyed the results of, such as cleaning the windows (especially satisfying if not done very often!) and sometimes I have looked forward to doing things off the list with tomorrow’s new energy.

But then I got tired and had a meltdown over the skirting boards.  I realised I should have painted the skirting board before the carpet came.  When I did the painting mostly I just painted the walls and ignored the skirting boards.  Now, I see that they could do with being done.  Anyway, I did that room quickly with one coat and it is fine now, I know it only needs to look okay for the photos and then the buyers will paint over it all anyway.  But for a few hours I beat myself up: why didn’t I just do all the skirting boards at the same time as the walls.  Why didn’t I notice they needed doing before the carpet came?  Why do I prioritise the wrong tasks.  What’s wrong with me, I’m such an idiot.

My mum spent years thinking about it then a year seriously getting her house ready to sell.  In the last few weeks and months she worked on it from six am until midnight, DIY, painting, styling, as well as sorting out forty years of accumulated belongings.  She was almost seventy.  Then she moved into her new place and within a few months it’s all painted and perfectly styled.  I, meanwhile, find my shoulder aches from a couple of days of window and door cleaning, even with rests.  And as fast as one thing gets clean more stuff needs doing or the big stuff gets done but there’s still the ordinary stuff to do.  I get overwhelmed by DIY and big chores, always have.  Having a mother who excels at all that, who built her house herself, is a lot to live up to.  It’s impossible to live up to.  And then I remind myself that lots of people don’t do any of their own decorating.  They pay a professional, or they leave it undone because they work full time, because their free time is precious, or just because they don’t want to do it.

I’ve noticed that classic spaced out stressed feeling, which I haven’t felt for a while.  I dropped everything and went for a walk across the fields, because I remembered that being helpful.  I’ve also felt excited; wide awake and staying up late then lying in bed feeling wide awake and happy.  I haven’t felt this off balance for a while but I’ve been continuing on the path.  I told my boss and told my team at work today, to make it real.  Feeling a bit scared about everything, but totally sure about selling the house, totally sure about going travelling, and almost totally sure about buying a boat as a base/to live on when we come back.  Trying to raise frequency in order to make decisions from the best place- we are going to see the boat again on Saturday.

Maybe a boat will be better for me, less to clean? But you have to be really tidy or else in such a small space the mess looms much larger!  Neither of us are super tidy and will we really be any different anywhere else?

A few weeks ago, on a whim, I looked at boats, and found one that was ideal.  A boat is at least capsule, simple living and more unplugged than our current situation.

This whole thing started with the idea of going off to India, or travelling the world, but for me it’s not really about travelling per se, it’s about testing my long felt urge to trust-fall into the universe, to let go my fingertips from the cliff face and fall into the unknown.  Mainly, it is about freedom; about realising where I am, what I have, and therefore what I am able to do- with a bit of guts and imagination.  The thought of just going off for a while with no plan other than to go travelling and keep writing, is, well…  The thought triggers a thrilling, glittery feeling inside me.

It means that at least for a while, I could imagine/believe that this was my life, travelling and blogging.  And for a year or even two, I believe it can be.  But what next, what afterwards?  I could get a permanent job again, I could do temporary work.  We could somehow maybe build a life that splits between the two, periods in England earning money, periods in South East Asia.  I don’t want to have a life changing experience and then come back to the same life.

If we buy the boat we have something to come back to.  We can even live on it for a few weeks before we go, thereby bringing the future into the now and beginning our new life right now, rather than waiting until we get back.  It would also be taking action rather than just seeing what happens/leaving it up to our future selves to decide what it is we are going to do.  It’s lovely, in a great location and available now.  My reservations- people say don’t plan on top of plans; are we tying ourselves down, limiting our horizons, preventing as yet unknown opportunities from arising and being taken up, such buying a bar in Thailand or opening a cat sanctuary in Vietnam.  (I am not really going to do either if those two things).

I know I am fortunate to be able to be in this position but I am still finding it very scary.  Giving up a good job, giving up a nice house, for something smaller and as yet unknown, possibly a small boat; well I suppose it is because of the conditioning that this is difficult.  And I suppose that’s also why it would be good to do it..

 

Just when I think I have put the past behind me, I go round my mum’s yesterday and out of the blue she says, you remember x don’t you, he was convicted of the rape of two twelve year old girls and went to prison for two years.  I met him when I was fifteen, he was thirty, me and my best friend and my boyfriend, both older than me, used to go and see him, he used to invite us in to talk to him whilst he was in the bath.  We just thought it was funny/weird.  He also took arty photographs of us, clothed.  He was one of my mum’s lodgers when I was about sixteen.  When I was seventeen or eighteen and had left home and was living in a caravan, he came round.  I think he had tried to get me into bed before but I didn’t fancy him.  I thought he was too old.  Anyway, he came round during the day and got into bed with me and just touched me in one place, one square centimetre.  I did want him to stop but my body just let him do it, and I had an orgasm whilst not fancying him, not kissing, not cuddling, it felt very weird.

My mum said yesterday, he was in the house with you and your sister.  I said, I was older, and I am sure my sister would have said something.  She seemed happy with that.  One lodger used to pay for my sister’s horse riding lessons and take her out.  Another (the one from my flashbacks) did the same for me.  The 1970s were a very strange time.

*a book from the 1970s.  That decade wasn’t all bad.

**lots and lots of sex, and lots and lots of orgasms whilst on holiday

Remaking the past*

Tags

gratitude, healing, love, marriage, Tattoos

I had my first tattoo on my 21st birthday, the main clump of three roses you can see on my arm.  The branch extending towards my back was done a bit later and never quite fitted with the original part.  The fish and the shell tattoo was done later still, a cover up on top of a woman’s hand with red nails holding a gun.  From a Die Cheerleader album cover as I remember it, although I can’t find it now, and also influenced by the book Dirty Weekend.  I disliked it almost immediately, and a friend designed the fish and shell design to get done as a cover up, although as you can see that didn’t look that great either.

I had accepted my tattoos and it never really crossed my mind to get them fixed.  I was always under the impression that removal was a big deal and cost thousands of pounds.  I had vaguely heard about lasering but had just assumed it was super expensive* and I didn’t think another cover up would be possible.  Then a few months ago I ended up in Factotum with a friend and one thing led to another.  After some research (you can spend many hours on the internet trapped in a tattoo vortex) and several consultations I decided to go with Emma Sailor at Factotum in Norwich.  She said she could do cover ups on the ones pictured above as they are but the one on my other arm, pictured below, would need some lasering; I have had one treatment done so far at Fading Time on the same premises.

This tattoo is from the Doughboys ‘Happy Accidents’ album.  I wasn’t a big fan of the band, I just liked the concept and the art; comedy and tragedy in the middle, the clock hands all twisted.

Again, it didn’t actually look that great on my arm.  Twenty five years and one laser treatment later, this is what it looks like now:

I am having one more laser treatment in December and then I will be getting a new tattoo over it in February.

Tattooing has moved on a lot since I had mine done in my twenties.  Tattooists now are real artists, and the thing I learned was to choose the right person for you and then let them do their stuff.  Roses work particularly well for cover ups because of all the petals and shading.  I had this done two days ago.  I have another appointment at the beginning of January to finish it, but I am so happy with how it looks that I couldn’t wait to share it!

Whilst we were in Marrakech, I experimented with some DIY therapy re my ‘recovered memories’/flashbacks.  With my husband’s help, I went right back there.  It wasn’t that scary after all.  It was strangely liberating…  And I kind of enjoyed it.  I feel much better now.  Thank you for your advice and support, and for reading.

With metta

*The tattooists, when they ask each other about what tattoos they are working on say:  What are you making?  I love that.

**One treatment cost £50, took ten minutes and was completely bearable; there was a sign on the wall with a word on it and I stared at it, playing with the letters.  It will only need one more treatment to be able to be tattooed over.  I believe it can take 8-12 treatments to remove a tattoo completely, although sometimes there can be scarring.  Grey and black come up easiest, green is hardest, apparently.

 

 

 

 

 

Mission statement

Tags

escape the matrix, reality, The matrix

In Marrakech over breakfast, conscious of the need to maintain our focus and awareness, I asked my husband to explain what he would say if anyone asked him what we believed in and what we were doing.  I added things and kept asking questions and wrote it all down.  No one has actually asked me what I believe in or what my life’s focus is but now that I have it all written down on a paper napkin, where better to share it than here?

We believe: 

That this world is an illusion and the only thing that matters is finding out who you really are. 

Why are we dismantling our perfect life?

If life gets too safe, samey and routine, the mind begins to travel to the past and future (e.g. harking back to good experiences, looking forward to things to do after retirement) because there’s not enough going on in the present.  You get stuck, like quicksand, like cement:  if you don’t keep moving the matrix has you stuck.  You get yourself stuck in the matrix.  Mortgages, putting down roots, are potentially traps.  Keep moving, keep changing routine.

Plus, we are working on stripping away mental conditioning…  

Via behaviours e.g. learn to go out without wearing makeup, keep trying new things etc, and via wrapping the mind around ideas such as there is no time, there is no past, there is no future etc. etc.  It can help to try out different conspiracy theories:  if you can wrap your mind around the Earth being flat or Paul McCartney having been replaced in the 1960’s, even if just for the duration of the YouTube video, then you are training your mind to disbelieve.  Nothing is real, everything you’ve been told is a lie:  Lots of people say they agree with that statement but actually find it very difficult to put it into practice and begin disbelieving in everyday ‘facts.’

And all the time, through it all, be truthful.  Be truthful to yourself.  Deconstruct yourself in order to find out who you are.  Getting rid of clothes, possessions, house, is all part of that.  Stripping away everything, all the surface layers, until you are left with nothing but the truth of who you really are.

Really, all this is a full time job.

When we had finished, I read it aloud.  Good, my husband said.  Maybe I can use it as my resignation letter, I said.  Of course, the finer details, indeed any of it, may well be subject to change, as with everything I do, say and think, but for now, it is as good an ‘explanation’ as I/we can come up with.

P.S.

Actually, this is too important to be just a PostScript, I’ll give it a proper heading:

My intention

I am dismantling my home and I am leaving my job to go off travelling and blogging.

Marrakech

Tags

escape the matrix, Marrakech, Marrakesh, reality

I have just returned from four nights in Marrakech.  So beautiful, so nourishing.  The orange buildings, the limited advertising, the sense of history.  Seeing so many people in traditional dress.  The ancient music.  The palaces.  The alleyways, the shops and food stalls; pancakes and pomegranate juice, cane sugar and ginger.  Tailors’ shops with people at sewing machines, shops which were tiny dusty rooms with trays of eggs, sacks of spices.  People selling wares from little carts, or on the ground, or just walking.  Women selling homemade biscuits, children selling little packets of tissues, boys and men selling coffee from a huge kettle.

Above it all the Koutoubia Mosque, its gardens orderly and peaceful, tended with sprinklers, all lush green grass, neat hedges and healthy fruit trees.  Standing in the square, hearing, feeling, the call to prayer from all directions.  I enjoyed dressing modestly, and it was also so nice to be in a country where alcohol isn’t the social norm.  It felt so safe, even in the alleyways after dark.  Welcome and safe, a new honeymoon.

Outside a cafe on our last evening, me staring at an orange wall and thinking about how and when are we going to come back.                 What are you thinking about, my husband asked.                       Marrakech, I answered.
Well that’s a coincidence, he said, here we are, in Marrakech.                     It was one of those comments that tripped a switch and for a few minutes I felt we were both ‘there,’ in that place that I used to call being in the present moment.  That night I called it us both being at our highest frequency at the same time.  In those few moments I could believe that we had arrived in Marrakech simply by thinking about it, by thinking our way there.                                                                           How would that work, my husband asked, where would we really be? Where are we really anyway, I said.
So in those moments we are both at our highest frequency and maybe there are things we can do when we’re both there.  Maybe those things are so good they’d be worth giving up sex for, like being able to think yourself to different locations around the world.  I know, every trip begins with a thought, maybe this way cuts out all the bits between thought and being there.  Or maybe just by being really there (in the present moment) all the previous stuff falls away and is irrelevant, so that it feels as though we’ve both always been there and yet are also simultaneously sitting on the couch at home.  That’s as far as I was able to take it that night, although there is another level or slant on the situation, that we are really sitting somewhere else, outside of this matrix, and that’s where we actually are.
In bed that night just before sex, I thought what if that’s what we end up doing instead of sex: lying in bed travelling, creating our own reality. It’s another chicken and egg situation though, the only way to get to that high a frequency would be to give up sex; to give up sex we both need to believe in why we’re doing it, what the point is, etc.
We agreed to remind each other when we both feel ‘there’, in order to help us stay there, as when we go off onto the mundane, when one suddenly can’t hold the thought or denies all knowledge of what we were discussing, that is then that person, or both, dropping to a lower frequency, and it can appear as if the lights are on but no one’s home, or at least, that they are holding out on you.  So make it our mission to prioritise above all the raising of our individual frequencies and supporting each other to raise the other’s frequency, by keeping moving, staying neutral, staying in our now day, not getting emotional, questioning everything, reminding ourselves and each other…

Photographs:  First two are of El Badi Palace  The third one is our hotel.

No more potatoes

Tags

awareness, escape the matrix, Law of Attraction, reality

One of my favourite lines from Buffy the Vampire Slayer is when Xander comments on what someone else is doing and is told not to be judgemental.  His reply, no, not judgy, observy, is both accurate and inspiring.  One of the ways we learn and grow is by looking at what other people are doing, but there is a fine line between judgy and observy.  I hope I’m just about staying on the correct side when I say that a lot of people who talk and write about the law of attraction and raising their frequency do so in the context of wanting success in life, be that in business, attracting a romantic partner, needing ready money or even just a parking space.  The focus is on raising their frequency in order to attract good things to them.  Although I agree that that works, for me it’s more the other way around.

For me right now the raising of the frequency is the thing.  Everything I do, everything that happens to me, is an opportunity for my frequency to rise (or to drop).  That’s my focus.

This (illusionary) world is there for us to interact with, to find out who we are through the way we respond and the actions we take.  The experiences are a vehicle rather than the thing itself.  Our mission here isn’t the actual achievements, the extraordinary and the everyday adventures; these are the how, rather than the what.  Our mission is to find out who we really are.

And who are you?  A powerful creator, the centre of your universe.  You were asleep, and now you are awake.

I had this perfect little snapshot earlier:  in bed in the spare/my room which is all cream and more or less clutter free, just a few essentials, a portable electric radiator, and my tablet propped up on two lilac yoga blocks, the opening credits of BoJack Horseman, all warm toffee and pink colours, like Neopolitan ice cream, that lovely woozy music, with BoJack the horse sitting up in bed, waking up…  A momentary snapshot of ‘yes’.  Yes, okay, yes, I created this.

So I can believe in my room.  Can I extend this to advice I have miraculously come across on WordPress, and the teachings of my awareness guru?  What if everything is there to tell us exactly what we need to hear?  What if all I need to do is face down the complexity of it all and distil it into something so simple (and so amazing) that it would trip a switch right now and the light would come on?

I think maybe we arrived here as adults, and were children only in a previous life.  What if all my childhood memories are just deja vu, memories leaking in from another life?  One night when we had just moved in my husband and I were sitting by the fireplace and I had this vision of us being old sitting there, or sitting there in a previous decade.  I looked at him and said, don’t you see, we’ve always been here.  So this time around we must do something different, and leave.

So I can give up potatoes and cutting my hair easily enough.  I can keep on working on staying in my now day and not being judgemental.  I can reduce and restrict the amount of sex and orgasms I have.  I can do all of that, with the intention of frequency raising.  One day maybe I will completely give up the low frequency activities, but right now just as I occasionally eat co op donuts (vegan) but overall believe myself to have a healthy diet, I still want to have the occasional wild night.

This is where I am right now.  The message that has been circling at the outer edges of my consciousness all week is this:  There are no rules, except those I set myself.

There are no rules, except those I set myself.

There’s just one tiny flaw in today’s, or rather yesterday’s revelations.  If everything is a creation of my own mind, that is at times hard to believe.  Like whilst watching the amazing, incredible, completely original show that is BoJack Horseman*, for example.  But it isn’t that I literally created everything out of my own mind, it is that I pulled it towards me.  I drew what I needed to me.  The teachings of my awareness guru.  Advice and insights from WordPress.  Like in The Field, all possibilities exist for us to then create our reality from.  But, and this is where we come back to the beginning again, as a happy by product of raising one’s frequency, good things do arrive.

And it doesn’t matter whether I’ve been walking and blogging like last weekend, or cleaning and decorating and overdoing it like during this week, or being laid up in bed with a cold watching Netflix like this weekend, it’s all me, it’s all life.  Learning has still gone on and progress has been maintained, even if I haven’t realised it until later.

*Shines a light on everything and shows just how f***ed up most media, consumer society etc is, not by being negative but by being a beacon of light.  Really interesting reading interviews with the show’s creator Raphael Bob-Waksberg.