Change in the Wind
It’s winter here. Some days, it is snowy, messy, and bloody cold. Other days, the inversion begins settling over the valley like a dirty blanket of gray-green pea soup. Some days it’s below freezing. Other days it’s 50 degrees. The fun of living in Utah is… the climate is fairly flaky and difficult to count on so it’s always an adventure.
Much like the weather, my life changes on a dime. I’ve discovered that, even when *I* am on a certain path, things can happen to send me veering off course into an entirely different direction. One of the things I’ve learned to master is the art of spontaneous change. I used to fight it. I used to whine about it. I used to pitch fits of grand proportions. However, now I’ve come to realize that all that fighting was using up energy I could otherwise be applying to rolling with the change that was happening – and was going to continue to happen no matter how hard I fought it.
The really cool thing is, I’ve discovered a magnificent truth: *I* am the creator of my own reality. Even though I heard that seemingly hundreds of times, it never really made sense to me. Until now. Suddenly, I understand that my reality is my reality. It is what *I* see. It is what *I* experience. It is what *I* expect. And, even if someone is standing there right alongside me, doing and experiencing the exact same thing in the exact same moment, they will still experience it differently because that is their experience.
For a long time, I thwarted my own existence because I was so willing to battle for the Victim seat. I called in many Villains to prove that I was truly Queen of the Victims and very few Heroes to save me from myself. Because, I really, really, really wanted to be the victim.
No more.
I have found the power to transform my life by being willing to change my perception, change my thoughts, change my focus. I have found where my Victim prevails and have learned to listen to her words. I’ve also realized that my experience of being the Queen of the Victims is a perfect proving ground for healing the victim, scarcity, lack, and destruction mentality that is overwhelming the planet. Hence the reason I can kick serious ass in my energy healing sessions! I’ve been there, done that, and have the bumper sticker to show you that I have.
I am grateful for this journey, for knowing who I am know, why I am here and what it means to truly CREATE my life. I am grateful, now, for every change in the wind. Mostly because I’ve come to realize that the Wind is my ally!
Truth in Dreaming
On the edge of sleep this morning, I had a dream in which I began consciously interacting and interpreting the dream as it occurred. I was dreaming of painting the most glorious work of art with amazing colors. These colors were pure and unearthly, not mixed at all to create the glorious tones I was using. As I painted, a masterpiece unfolded before my very eyes.
It was a stunning piece and I realized people were watching me paint, waiting in anticipation of what I would do next. Then, I felt myself think, “What if I put this on top of it?”
I don’t recall now what the “this” was, but I do know that, by doing so, “this” changed the value of the beautiful paint. As I went about changing the value here and there, people began reacting. Numbers appeared within the paint to show the level of change that had occurred – a sort of paint by numbers, in reverse.
At first there were only twos scattered around the painting and the change was so subtle it was easy to miss. Only a few people reacted at me, but react they did. I felt my tension growing as they murmured and whispered – some speaking about me and the horrible thing I had done and that I should be “done in” and others who were scheming on how they could save the painting and the artist, fix it and make it right.
In desperation, I added more “this” to the painting in another area. Threes showed up and the reaction got louder. I pushed harder. More “this” here and more “this” there until there were numbers all over the painting. The cacophony had grown to unbearable heights. I was sweating and crying and cowering beneath my easel, hoping it would protect me from those who tormented me and those who continually strived to liberate me from them and myself.
Staring up at the painting from the vantage point of the floor, I saw a muddy mess. There was none of the original, pure color showing through. There was only mud and numbers and the screeching of the crowd. As I sat there, tears running down my face and looking at the raging faces of the people – I couldn’t tell who was the lynch mob and who was salvation because they all wore the same exaggerated expressions. The energy of their intention was perfectly matched, no matter at which angle they were approaching me.
I shrank further into my shell, realizing I had become the ultimate victim and that I had destroyed my creation by trying to appease those who had been waiting for me to do something that would make them react. By letting go of the truth with which I had been painting and resorting to adding “this” for their benefit, I had created a huge mess.
My conscious brain had been watching all along and piped up as I began to climb out of the mists of dream world, “Angie, take note… the drama began the moment you veered from the true paint. The more you deviated, the bigger the drama grew until you were fully entangled and whipped. And, in that drama, there is a lot of attention, tension and wasted energy.”
I awoke slowly and found myself curled up under the blankets, crying.
Falling Down
Yesterday, I pulled up behind a vehicle with the back window covered in stickers and a large advertisement for learning CPR. My eyes followed the flow of the large, brightly colored text until they settled on an iconic image in a contrasting color much akin to this:
Beneath that image, were the words: Heroes are not born; they are trained.
Ain’t it the truth, I thought as I snickered. As an energy healer, this advertisement took on an entirely different meaning for me than was intended by the decorator of that car. When we are born, we are a clean slate, free from beliefs, practices and thought patterns. These things are taught to us by our caregivers, our culture and by those we interact with on a regular basis as a child.
Being a hero, villain or victim is a learned response generated through our upbringing. Heroes are children who needed to be the Peacekeeper and make sure everyone in their life was happy and well cared for. They are the Fixers and the Rescuers that kept all the plates spinning in the air to avoid catastrophic events. They learned to always keep a watchful eye, being ever-prepared to jump in and save the day. Whatever the reason was, as a child, being a Hero kept them safe.
Our childhood patterns were productive when they were conceptualized because they were the end result of a deductive process by a person who had yet developed the neuropathways for logical reasoning. It could so happen that a toddler once reached down – because she was closer to the shiny object than her mother – to get a spoon dropped by her mother and she received much praise for doing as was asked of her when her mother held out her hand and requested the spoon. In that moment, the thought process began, if I help mommy by doing things for her, she’s really happy and likes me.
Through all my years working as a healer, I can attest to the truth of that bumper sticker. Heroes are not born; they are taught. And, as a healer, I repeatedly say, “The first step to healing yourself is to become aware of and understand your patterns.” Being open to seeing yourself through an observer’s eye so you can see where you are being a hero, villain or victim is how you begin to uncover your erroneous beliefs that stemmed from your childhood and once made sense, but no longer do.
Sighing Into My Life
I have experienced a few days of learning and awareness. I discovered something intriguing about myself… I have a BIG victim parading around inside me and when she is triggered there is nothing anybody can say or do, there are no processes and there is no action that will pop me out of being a victim. The more I TRY to shift the victim-thinking, the more obstinate and “smart” she gets. She requires a villain to show up to keep her going and will reject any and all assistance from a hero. In fact, IF a hero is brave enough to show up to rescue her, she will figure out how to turn that hero into its worse version of itself so that she can be standing in front of a villain – to the hero’s horror. It is terrifyingly amazing how powerful my victim is and I’m really grateful for this because she is what has kept me alive as long as this. I’ve needed her to survive. And… she/her is ME. *I* am a BIG victim.
So, today, I am grateful for… realizing just how powerful my victim thought process is and feeling immense love for myself * friends who are willing to face into the darkest sides of me and ride the slippery slope ride down to Wonderland * a friend who was willing to yell at me on Sunday and tell me she wouldn’t engage anymore and she was done… it got me just mad enough and was something so unexpected that I was able to pop out of victim-thought and get REAL with myself * the knowing that I am definitely unique in my make up and it is a labyrinth of security systems, brilliance and love * ASL… who would’ve thought ASL was going to be The Thing that began my unraveling! * having someone stand before me and say, (especially when I have SO been in my crap the last few days) “I can tell by your eyes that you have something to teach me.” * to have this same person continue to attempt to purposely connect with me even though the “boys” kept getting in the way * sitting in the student center last night doing homework and observing the table of guys from the construction trades classes… loving their “man talk” and their boyish, mischievous laughter * alone time without feeling lonely.
I am LOVING my life!
Tearful Sky…
Moisture is seeping from the sky today in a smattering of invisible rain that is hidden from the eye upon falling but can be witnessed by the liquid gathering in droplets upon the branches and gently dripping to the ground. The street sparkles, renewed from the rain and the sky is heavy-laden with gray clouds. I witness this and realize that parts of me feel like this inside, other parts are the sun. It is a delicious mixture of sensations.
Today, I am grateful for… the rain * positive, uplifting music to remind me of the truth of who I am * crumbling, crashing and dismantling then taking a nap wherein my soul communes with God and I wake refreshed, renewed and aware of MY truths * knowing that He made me just as I am because I am needed – just as I am * knowing that I asked for this processing * knowing that I will continue to close the gap – that is my practice now – between victim stance and god essence * knowing that I am NOT the victim who was triggered so strongly Friday night, but rather I AM the gentle essence I feel within me today * knowing that I showed up as a victim so big on Friday because I am so scared by what I am capable of and, for a moment, I needed to protect myself from myself * learning about what I am capable of is all at once terrifying and awe-inspiring * my former husband because, through all of this, what I am uncovering now, learning now and embodying now is everything he saw in me to start with * his methods of delivering his messages that kept me in the dark until just. the. right. moment. I am, indeed, so very grateful for that and feeling immense love for him.
I am gentle, loving and… exactly perfect in all my flaws. Thank you, God, for the reminder.
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