Of these, hope

Spotted a comment in my queue that I hadn’t noticed before, and I’ve been squeeing nonstop for a bit. Since groceries and banking are poking at me, I’d like to attend to my physical needs before sunset.

Alicia D’Avalon, whom I recognize as my High Priestess and foremost spiritual mother currently incarnated, launched a site recently! 😀 I’ve mentioned my kaa-san elsewhere on Merlight, and there’s other reasons why I speak of her again now.

There was a particular night when some of the female members of the coven collective, Children of Eden, snuggled on Alicia’s basement couch while we watched Dracula 2000. We cracked jokes with the plot, including me screaming, “Mary! Screw him then kill him!”

Considering the sheer amount of darker themed material I was exposed to in childhood, I choose not to indulge in a wide range of the horror genre. I don’t dismiss it, I see great value in such works – including aspects of my journey through a Lovecraftian lens without my realization (in other words, I, to this day, haven’t read a smidgen of Lovecraft’s works yet people have noted the eerie similarities and connections) – it’s just that at this moment, my self-care demands soft, fluffy, gentler ways.

Children of Eden, a collaborative effort and extension of Daughters of Eden, was the supportive community I found safety and security in. Certainly not a place for stagnation, here I was challenged and given guidance, not advice. As for me receiving, accepting, and incorporating the lessons spanning reality and overlay, that would take more than a decade. I’m still learning to integrate my experiences and offerings of wisdom. As an adolescents’ coven, the Daughters defined us as embodying eclectic Wiccan-based approaches.

Safety and security isn’t the same as codling and insulation. It means a sense of home, a base, a tangible expression of belonging.

I think the most powerful lesson I’m grappling with from those days is self-efficacy.

Not self-esteem. Self-efficacy.

From the very beginning when I was approached by the Daughters, I resisted myself. Self. In the New Age movement, there’s so much emphasis on the Ego as a source of negativity. Considering this wasn’t the intention by Sigmund Freud when he coined the Latin word for use in psychology, I sometimes feel ashamed by my direct link to New Age thought – I am a certified and licensed ATP®, after all. I have other issues as well with the popular angel community, but those are my issues and not meant to demean my colleagues and associates.

In philosophy, particularly metaphysics, Kei’s dictionary speaks of ego as “a conscious thinking subject.” Psychoanalysis is similar with its definition but adds function, “the part of the mind that mediates between the conscious and the unconscious and is responsible for reality testing and a sense of personal identity.”

The point here is that the ego isn’t an entity to ignore, push away, enslave, oppress, hide, etc. It is what keeps you here. Grounded. Sane. When I spoke of meta-reflexivity before, I’ve written, “To venture beyond this is to invite integration and annihilation.”

That is why I’m wary of religions and spiritualities that place the highest focus on the ideal of transcendence.

I don’t want to simply survive, because survival means I’m constantly cheating death. I want to live, which means I am aware of death.

So much I encounter in spiritual movements talk about enlightenment, transcendence, oneness, and so on. When I took a step back, I realized that for me, it was pretty lectures and coercion for a utopian melting pot model.

Peace isn’t an absence of conflict or pain. In terms of relationships, it’s considered unhealthy to have a bond without any disagreement whatsoever. You can achieve synchronization while maintaining identities. Being in relationship and seeking mutual understanding without conforming – that is the mark of a healthy bond. Compromise, teamwork. I think the adage, “There is no ‘I’ or ‘me’ in team,” is silly at best and harmful at worst. Teams and groups are most effective when all members retain themselves and are able to freely give and receive.

If we’re going to insist that everyone is special and all are children of whatever you want to call divinity/higher source/insert-conceptual-label-here, then allow people to be persons within people. My ego isn’t my enemy, it’s what protects me. I’m able to dive into Jung’s collective unconscious as deeply as I can because I don’t permit my annihilation and integration. There is an event horizon, and I’m learning to allow my ego, my intuition, warn me when I’m going too far from self.

I’m frequently called out in daily interactions for misusing words and concepts – or God forbid, misinterpreting them and committing the “selfish” act of imposition. The perception is an unwritten rule: The more self-aware I am, the more responsible I am for my reception. Basically, conversation partners are allowed to use ignorance as a defense, and I’m morally and ethically responsible for how I come across to them. Because of my perceived locations in whichever contexts apply, I bear the weight of monitoring every single aspect of myself to safeguard others.

That’s exhausting. That’s an ingenious way to silence me, piling on the guilt and shame for my efforts at self-development and self-growth. As one of my teachers, Doreen Virtue, cutely puts it in one of her publications, that “dulls your sparkle.”

My colloquy was awful. It took an effort to frame anything about it as positive. What angers me the most is if I dare to use peers’ reasoning against them, as in questioning them with their own thinking, my intentions and morality are to be examined. There’s a whole host of other related problems I had with my colloquy, but that one was the strongest trigger for emotional and physical memories of abuse.

It was fine and well to shut me down on the basis of semantics, since my perception meant nothing because it didn’t fit a standardized definition endorsed by specific training programmes. A one hour meeting was nearing two hours by the time I released myself from that harshness.

This is utterly frustrating. I’m expected, ethically, to challenge and give constructive criticism. To contribute to the discussion with all of my assets. Sure, I can do all that – but with a condition. My contributions must be subject to whatever the status quo is. Everywhere I go, this condition is imposed on me like the Orwellian Thought Police.

George Orwell’s 1984 was such a good read in high school. Granted, by the time I finished it, I was stressed out and that’s not explicitly counting the triggering and bouts of crying and so on. But I’m grateful I took my time to read the novel despite a rough time those days.

Only a day after rushing through my term paper due to a deadline issued right at the terrible colloquy, I spent Sunday wandering Kitchener and Waterloo to get the heck out of my house and do things I wanted instead of needed. My Crew remained with me, pointing out things of interest and keeping me steady whenever I lapsed into dissociation. Andrei’s seemingly random and spontaneously timed texts also anchored me as I walked, conversed, and rode public transit.

It was good. Despite flares of rage, pain, and withdrawal to preserve my sense of self, I managed to venture out of hiding a little and found treasures amidst “harsh reality.”

Tough love’s fine and all, but I appreciate appreciation after confrontation. Otherwise, it’s another expression of invalidation for me. LOL I wasn’t expecting three hugs from two women whom I was beginning to mentally frame as oppositional towards me. Nuggets of wisdom and detached observations of myself, followed by an outpouring of affection. I laughed really hard when I made it to my current house, watching Doreen’s scheduled weekly video. As Andrei would say, “Doreen on point/10.”

Okay, I came to realize, that expression of sisterhood is easier to digest than extremist feminism.

Alicia, many years ago, informed me that my stubbornness had potential to transform into endurance, then into tenacity. There was a key for that transformation to happen, but she certainly wasn’t about to tell me what that was.

I figured it out after my wanderings yesterday, after I spilled over with groaning joy courtesy of Doreen and my own ability to engage. That key?

That key is HOPE.

And now, after two hours of composing this post, I have errands to run because my body and my finances also need my love and care. Lightworkers were asked to consider the numerological significance of today’s date: Monday, December 12, 2016. Quest cleared, I’m out to collect my reward. 😉

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