I trusted your pretence and words, When you returned after years, With deception in heart, in disguise. I loved you always, missing you every breath, When you stepped in, I thought my love had triumphed, I could never have thought, my death was your aim. You didn’t kill my body, but […]
Ever since childhood I have loved and connected with the fairy tale The Ugly Duckling by Danish Author Hans Christian Anderson because through the years it has been a recurring pattern in my life. As a child I was bullied because I was much smaller than the other kids and had to learn English because I had just arrived from the Philippines. By the end of grade school I had become an honor student. In my teens I blossomed from a plump fifteen year old into a stunning college freshman in just two short years. Later, in my professional life I rose from an intern at a PR firm to the in-house PR for a Beverly Hills couture accessory designer. This past decade was the longest I have ever had to reinvent myself, but this year after 8 years in a stunted relationship I left and embarked on yet another new life even though I’m no longer a Spring Chicken.
In order to survive after the crash of 2008 I had to reinvent myself as a professional psychic because frankly no one was buying hand bags at $2,000 a pop. It was a fun 15 years of fashion, excess and glamour that left me fairly spoiled. In those days I did what I wanted when I wanted. I bought far too many shoes and hand bags. And during a time when I was easily getting $10,000 a season in free swag, goodies and trips I never thought about saving for a rainy day. And then suddenly, the crash brought all of that to a screeching halt. An entire way of life evaporated and in its place was the challenge to find a new way or leave LA to eek out a new living in a small town.
I was fortunate because at the time I thought I had found my true love. I believed with all my heart that love would conquer all and I could be satisfied with a little psychic business and a charming little apartment in the Valley with two dogs. For the first couple of years I reveled in the stability and the constant love and affection. Those years were truly happy and I don’t regret any of them. But, like all good dreams that too came to an end as the the relationship became confining and my partner was struck with a melancholy that would eventually destroy him. Let’s just say that story belongs to him to tell.
For the past several months I’ve been through the ringer. First I was called a “whore” for leaving an 8 year relationship even though I had my reasons. I was stalked by a troll who was determined to destroy me for rejecting her both sexually and professionally and I was misjudged and misunderstood by many people who would rather look at a woman in transition and turn away because women around here have “expiration dates.” If I had not been somewhat attractive I would have been completely invisible because the sad truth is that our society doesn’t champion women. And furthermore when I shared my plans, some people who didn’t even know me or my capabilities told me that I was delusional. I believe that this is always because people are completely oblivious to talent if they are not talented themselves. Why? My creative friends who are at the tops of their fields motivated me to keep doing what I was doing because they could feel that I was going to “pop.” Today, I can say with some certainty that my reinvention is complete. I have become someone else. I have become someone more. I have become someone new.
It is no coincidence that for months now I have been meditating on the Swan or Hamsa of Sarasvati. For me Sarasvati the Hindu Goddess of Wisdom and Music is the mystical compass through which I always find my way. She is the one who dictated the Vedas and is responsible for “Vak” or Divine Speech. Hers is the Voice inside my head that directs me when I am doing readings. It is her genius that moves all my good ideas, my best writing, my creative style … I give honor to this particular Shakti because the consort of Brahma is ever the spark of creation.
Originally posted on Dreaming With Dolphins: The powerful eclipse season concludes with a Total Lunar Eclipse at 24º Pisces on September 16th. Occurring in the final degrees of Pisces, the Full Moon Eclipse signals the end of a long cycle. The placement of the Moon with Mars and Uranus, creates a complexity of ‘high strung’…
When I was in my teens and so in love with love that my heart was broken almost every other day, I stumbled upon a novel that gave such an intense poetic nuance and substance to my pain that I still refer to it after all these years. From Wikipedia:
Damage is a 1991 novel by Josephine Hart about a British politician who, in the prime of life, causes his own downfall through an inappropriate relationship. It was adapted into a film of the same title by Louis Malle in 1992, as well as into an opera (calledDamage, an opera in seven meals) by Greek composer Kharálampos Goyós in 2004.
Today I am lost in a haze of sadness. Today I recognized the symptoms of alcoholism and denial resurface in my blue eyed, golden haired fallen angel like a shark’s fin in the ocean close to a group of unsuspecting swimmers. I remember the screams, the blood, the floating bits of heart flesh that come bubbling up in an otherwise blue ocean of dreams soon after that fin surfaces. My heart refuses to feel that pain again so it goes into an automated process of shutting down and raising shields. As it is, that spiritual shark is circling around the closed underwater dome of my heart, but that dome is not merely closed, it is armed with torpedoes that could turn that shark of a man into sashimi.
There was a full moon in the starless sky. I thought how rarely I had noticed such things. Some deep failure of the soul perhaps. An inherited emptiness. A nothingness passed from generation to generation. A flaw in the psyche, discovered only by those who suffer by it. JOSEPHINE HART – DAMAGE
I could have his soul for breakfast and that particular meal wouldn’t make me anything other that a wise woman tired of going through the same old shit. Souls like his have holes like Swiss Cheese and add a flare to a ham sandwich. I like my souls on sour dough bread with a thin film of Miracle Whip Light mixed with some Honey Dijon Mustard. I’ll have that with a Mimosa and carry on as if nothing happened.
That is my story, simply told. Please do not ask again. I have told you in order to issue a warning. I have been damaged. Damaged people are dangerous. They know they can survive. JOSEPHINE HART – DAMAGE
Like the doomed affair in Damage our relationship is obviously fraught with danger because I am the adult child of an alcoholic and he is once again plunged into the depths of his disease. And yet, love draws us together as it has over 18 years. But as big girls know … love is never enough … it just makes it hurt even more than it could.
I always recognize the foces that will shape my life. I let them do their work. Sometimes they tear through my life like a hurricane. Sometimes they simply shift the ground under me, so that I stand on different earth, and something or someone has been swallowed up. I steady myself, in the earthquate. I lie down, and let the hurricane pass over me. I never fight. Afterwards I look around me, and I say, ‘Ah, so this at least is left for me. And that dear person has also survived.’ I quietly inscribe on the stone tablet of my heart the name which has gone forever. Th inscription is a thing of agony. Then I start on my way again. JOSEPHINE HART – DAMAGE
This is a karmic soul connection of epic proportions. He is not my twin who is ultimately more understanding but ever so unattainable. He is the fallen angel, the demon lover whose inner demons have trampled across the delicate pathways of my psyche because I have let him … I have welcomed him back every single time … because “I’m Just a Sucker for Pain.”
The day before yesterday I had the unexpected opportunity participate in a Spiritual Response Therapy Session facilitated by Ora B. Nance Woodley at the Crystal Matrix in Atwater Village in Los Angeles. I had come to the shop on a whim on the first day of Mercury Retrograde to find a safe haven from the chaos and ended up staying for the evening session determined to release a lot of energetic junk. Ora and I connected on a psychic to psychic level and before I knew it, I just wanted to hug her for being so kind and so open.
According to the session description,
Spiritual Response Therapy(SRT)gets to the very root of the energetic program causing your specific issue. Using special charts and a pendulum, Minis. Ora B Nance-Woodley finds the patterns of negative energy, whether in past, present or future lives and, through Higher Self, removes or “clears” this energy from your Akashic Records, releasing pain and restoring harmony. The effect of this work is amazingly profound. The negative energy you held on an event is cleared and this can produce amazing changes in your life.
Unlike the rest of the participants I had not preregistered, so she did not have 24 hours to “clear” me before I got there. But, in the short time before the class she dedicated herself to starting the process so I could join in. In the past month a move following a break-up and the end of the harassment from a very vindictive internet troll were just a few of the things that reportedly gave me an aura with the look of the spots on a Dalmatian. I was tired, burnt out and feeling unsure of myself even though my life was just beginning.
Using the technique of spinning a pendulum combined with conversation and her own healing gifts, Ora was able to clear away a lot of the blockages that were deep rooted in my energy that could have taken weeks of cleansing baths to remove. Personally, I did not feel that I had that much time to “get it together” so I was grateful for the opportunity. And what transpired is that this beautiful stranger was able to find and understand a deep seated hurt that happened while I was still in the womb and carefully extract the spiritual “splinter” like any good mom.
Suddenly, my joy returned like an absent lover and I was able to smile again. Since then Mercury has had its way with me. Oh dear, transportation, miscommunication and short tempers could have frozen me in a state of panic. But, I’ve managed to remain calm and kind. Despite the challenges my response is to relax, become more fluid and just roll with the punches. I was the only one in the group who did not cry when I released. Instead I smiled and it felt good to feel that warmth spreading through me like the rising sun on an Autumn day.
My daily challenge is to create and maintain a state of joy. And with Mercury causing mishaps in scheduling and deliveries it’s easy to appear irresponsible when the truth is sometimes circumstances are awry. And I haven’t been myself because the trauma of a break-up AND moving is intense. Tonight, I can give myself permission to rest, really rest.
Download a free “Loving Kindness Meditation” for September by clicking HERE.
Mercury, the astrological trickster is doing hand stands with the virgin trump of the tarot this evening and she is flashing him her panties and they aren’t tight whities, but thongs. For the more stoic astrologically inclined this means that the virgin is momentarily a whore seducing the backwards moving trickster. But then again, we all know how good girls love bad boys. And so, as confusion reigns in the skies, the virgin is enjoying a moment of naughtiness with the bad boy, even though she expects to get burned … the fire is irresistibly hot and she has an excuse to melt, so she melts like butter.
This is a time for miscommunication to be resolved through unexpected embraces and fiery make up sex that will be denied but not forgotten because the virgin can claim that she lost her head. The Earth will move at the command of a message written in code. As portrayed by Molly Ringwald and Judd Nelson in John Hughes’ THE BREAKFAST CLUB. Mercury will most likely leave with a diamond earring to remember her by. And what does this mean for us mere mortals? Unlikely elements will converge and can only be survived with a sense of open minded fun and daring. Even if the solutions are only temporary, they will be the stuff that dreams are made of. Lessons learned in during this unusual cosmic tryst are guaranteed to last a lifetime, even if the catalytic elements never meet again or acknowledge their mutual attraction among polite planetary company.
Regardless, the soundtrack that triggers this memory will always be, “Don’t You Forget About Me.”