I am not a well woman.
Christa Lawrence, who has known me since we were very young, maintains that you can put me in a room full of 300 attractive, emotionally-available men and I will invariably choose the hot one in the corner with a drug habit and and a bad attitude. This myopia carries through all aspects of my life: I currently own four adopted, once-abused and/or abandoned animals, each one with its own weird issue, two of them epileptic. But they look gorgeous. All of the people I truly love are insane. I am drawn to the broken and beautiful, determined to repair. I love the phrase “beautiful wreck”, even though it is better in poetry than it is in real life, and I will ram my head against a problem until it shifts, or (more often) until I cut my head open.
As you can imagine, this over-arching codependency and love of drama has created chaos over the years: hospital visits, drug abuse, broken windows, broken hearts, rivers of tears. Therapy, therapy, therapy, talking, talking, talking. Blah, blah, blah. Once in a while you think you’ve got it together: you don’t snort drugs anymore, you choose higher quality people (look Ma, no junkies!), and only a small and manageable amount of people still hate your guts.
But in the end you’re the same person you always were, just with better manners and a cleaner apartment. Given the right opportunity and planetary alignment, my boundaries are still hopelessly skewed. Because, in truth, I am the one that is broken, gluing bits and pieces back together over time.
Over the last year the planets and hormones have aligned themselves in a most chaotic fashion, and I have been emotional, batty, and sick for months with a low grade cold which comes and goes in intensity, but always saps my energy. I am working on it, so please don’t bombard me via facebook with herb and food suggestions, the last time this happened I kept all the wise advice from friends and am utilizing much of it. This is more about finding my way through an energetic vortex than about consuming oil of oregano.
Some days lately I feel so sad, so angry, so much love, so much desire, so much spinning that I just want to burn my whole life down. Run somewhere and start a cat rescue ranch on a beach. Can you have a cat farm on the beach? Probably not because they don’t like to swim and they’d look at it as one big litter box.
I had two readings recently, one from my mom and one from a friend who is very thorough and spot on, and as a result is highly in demand. They both said the same thing: clearing old energy. Yeesh.
This from my mom:
“Mary is clearing much old energy from past lifetimes as are most others at this time. It is a process and must unfold. She will have to deal with the physical as needed, but that too is a clearing of old energy regarding female issues from past lifetimes as well as the clearing of the sacral chakra.
She needs to spend more time quietly, less drinking, socializing, and more going within. She is focused outwardly too much even when alone and is thus unable hear to her inner voice. This is a powerful time on earth when much change is happening for all. The old ways are fading and disappearing and the new and higher frequencies of Light are coming in in ever increasing intensity. Any resistance will simply make this process more difficult.
She hopes to keep things as they have always been, but this is not possible. She need not fear the loss of who she is with change, for it only can result and a better “self” as one becomes more enlightened. Be not afraid dear one, for you cling tightly to much that is finished in the belief that it is you. No, it is not you. Much of your work is finished in the forms it has been, but new forms will appear when you are ready. The outer is the inner. For now you must take time to relax and allow this process to unfold.”
Less drinking, more meditating? Seriously?? Drew’s response: “But you’re so much happier and nicer when you’re drinking…”
Luckily, I have a solid support system of family and friends who love me and tell me that I’m a good person even when I can’t see it. A mother who is on hand with spiritual readings whenever I feel I need them. She keeps repeating herself hoping it will sink in: Clearing. Fucking clearing. I’m sick of the word. Clearing out the old past life stuff, this life stuff, all the crap that gets in the way of peace and possible “ascension” is coming up now for everyone. How do we even walk with all the past life, this life, this week baggage strapped to our backs?
The second reading I got was two hours long so I can’t put it all down here, but one of the main directives was that it is time to revisit my childhood and heal/release old wounds from there. ‘Cause nothing says party like thinking about that time in the third grade when your first undying and unrequited most beautiful in the world passionate love Bennett Manville chose Susan Bell over you because you had just gotten glasses, even though you were the one he always talked to and who kept him laughing through homeroom every day. Susan was a real bitch about the whole thing too.
In actuality, there was much heavier stuff going on, but still. Life is hard from the get. First day of kindergarten, I already knew it was going to suck.
Okay, where was I going with this? Oh yes. Revisiting childhood. So yeah, trying to do that. Think about who I was, who I am, how I got here. Thinking about all the shit that went down and allowing myself to feel all the shame, the sadness, the confusion, the anger, the self-loathing, etc. So much self-hatred. What I have learned is that if you allow yourself to feel the feelings instead of resisting or avoiding, there is less pain. Not less sadness, which is different, but do-able. Sadness passes if you don’t hold so tightly. Once you’ve ugly-cried for a few minutes (or hours…or years…) you can let it rise out of the top of your head and dissipate.
My mother tells me that when we are asleep, and if we are willing, our angels and guides work on us to help with the process. Two nights ago as I was falling asleep I felt myself being picked up out of my body. I floated up into a space where everything was blue and green and sort of looked like the inside of a lava lamp. I felt intense energy around me and I got freaked, and I said, “You’re going too fast, I’m scared.” They, whoever they are, told me that I was safe, put me back in my body, and I woke up with a start. As soon as I started dozing off I was right back in the lava lamp, but I wasn’t frightened anymore.
The next day my BFF wifey Zoe Hansen, who is one of the most psychic people I know, and who is always in tune with what I am feeling even when we don’t talk about it, posted this selfie with the exact colors and energy on facebook. So I knew what had happened was real.
So yeah, residing inside lava lamps, cat ranches, colds, childhood, past lives, the outer is the inner. And this is only the stuff I can talk about publicly.
I need a drink.
Lastly, I’m coordinating a spoken word workshop with Lydia Lunch. If you are a female writer in the NY area and want some expert assistance on reading to an audience, email me at email@example.com. April 12th is full but there are still a couple of spots left for the 14th.
Hope this blog finds you all well. And thank you for your kind indulgence. =)
3 thoughts on “Notes from Inside the Lava Lamp”
As always, thanks for sharing. You kind of lower my reluctance to go certain places and admit certain things for me. Kind of like “hey, if Raff can go there, it's gotta be rock n roll okay to do so…”.
Some tides can be reckless, however they are still inevitable up there with the moon and the stars
Some tides are reckless however they are still inevitable up there with the moon and the stars shine on you crazy diamond