Compulsive Fits That Destroy Identity : Love Them

(Note* Journal Entry from June 2013)

I cried a thousand rivers, and my tears turned to stone.  I found myself crumpled on the deck, curled in a ball of knotted illusions.  My very identity ripped from my body as I gasped for air and stared out at the world blindly through layers of watery lenses. How could this be? How could I have totally lost my sense of Self? My ego had prevailed.  I was now bearing witness to its only intention which was to completely destroy my birth right as a human being.

Still owing on last months rent, struggling to come up with the current month, behind on bills and scrounging for gas money to gather up my precious girls for the weekends.  How did I end up in this position?  My  unconscious act of exorcism,  which played out in convulsing fits of moans, groans, excruciating painful expulsions of tears, and the pitiful grasping for something to hold onto had finally jolted me awake.

My life was being run by illusion.   Defined by the egos of others and their views pressed upon me in my childhood, and still existing today.  I have fought hard to prove them wrong.  And yet, even this role of the spiritual, artistic warrior battling for truth wasn’t enough for the  warped ideology that lay deep within the recesses of my thoughts. ” As an artist, a creative, a spiritual and simple human being who sees the whole picture from the outer reaches of the cosmos, I was destined, per-ordained to fail and fall flat in this humanly physical exclusionary world I was born into”.  That is what was deep in that bottomless well of emotion.  And it was very very old.

Yet, here I was playing that fucking role out to a “T”, AGAIN!

Oh, I have continued to be my authentic spirit through all the external artillery that challenges me daily . I have given my all! I have stayed true to my divine guidance and inspiration. But, even this role of the warrior was playing against me.  Somehow,  the reflection in the eyes of those who do not understand is that of failure and I believed them.  In a battle, there is a winner and loser.  I kept losing.

My own failure,  being that I allowed somebody else’s  ego to define my outcome.  After all, look at the facts ( see beginning sentence of the second paragraph).

“Damn, this story is getting old, isn’t it?”  I tell myself.  So I picked myself up, looked down at the huge wet lake of tears dripping through the cracks of the perfectly spaced wood planks that held me through my fit and I felt the emptiness.  I had released it all.

The next morning, I stepped out onto the beautiful mountain land where I reside.  I stooped to place my hands on the earth in an attempt to feel connected.  At my feet lay a small scattering of smooth, oddly shaped black stones.  I recognized them instantly as Apache Tears.

Apache Tears are common to this area.  They are volcanic stones, and their name is steeped in history.

It was said that certain members of the American Indian Apache tribe were pursued by the U.S. Cavalry… and although they fought bravely they were outnumbered.

Rather than be captured they jumped off the cliff to their deaths. The distraught women of the tribe cried dark tears of grief… which fell to the earth, and formed into these dark strangely shaped stones, which are believed to be their tears formed into reality so people will always remember what happened. ~ Healing Crystals For You.com

Apache Tears, for those who work with the healing energy of stones are known to “assist the emotional body in healing from old issues of an emotional nature. They offer grounding and psychic protection when feeling grief and emotional distress.”

Yes, once again, GAIA had provided all that I needed in that moment.  I scooped up the stones, carried them and rubbed them as I carried on through my day. I placed them on my altar, and let them heal my grief and loss of an old identity. I let them hold me in my vulnerable state and protect my precious newly awakened consciousness.

Letting go of an old belief system and pattern of thought that has shaped my identity my whole life will not be an easy task. It will require constant awareness and much compassion.

Later that morning, I hopped on Facebook and discovered a dear friend’s mother had suddenly passed earlier that morning.  The message was clear,  the healing was not only for me.  There were so many others out there that were also grieving, struggling, and facing a loss.

My small minded ego that kept me in a state of self pity and victimization got the boot!  As a result my true self reached out to my friend and offered support, love and earthly medicine.

What a journey this life is.

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