i need my feminine side to support me to nurture me to accept me for who i am to hold me & whisper “you are not a fraud; you are not an imposter” i need my masculine side to get things done to move me forward to forge my path to strike down my demons & scream “you are not a fraud; you are not an imposter”
or vice-versa…i mean the feminine can be just as bad ass as the masculine & the masculine is capable of nurturing. i was just generalizing for the sake of balance within myself. just trying to get things moving.
i am two of cups–balance–crossed by nine of cups–success. what? how can my conflict be success, i think just before a heartfelt compliment, feelings of progress, & a night out with friends sends me into a downward spiral. oh so that’s how. i think, remembering the therapist who would warn me before giving me a compliment after she realized i reacted the same to nice words as i did to bad ones.
i am still reeling, i’m afraid. over a week after i wrote this post. i am still struggling to believe i am a good & productive person who deserves praise. this is my longest downward spiral in quite forever…is it my transformation? once i survive this, will i be forever changed for the better? i guess that is what we will find out. but today finds me breaking ties with a friend who has taken advantage & put me in the position of her enabler…today finds me having to rescue a broken sister even though it is the last thing i want to be doing. but i don’t want to forget about my own journey. i can’t forget about my own healing. or is this all part of that?
i cannot control my moods the ebb & flow the phases of the moon i can’t stop my moods & i shouldn’t… i can control how i react to my moods celebrate & nurture my moods pay attention to them don’t lock them in a closet not even the ugly ones give all of them the attention they crave the attention they demand value the dark side as much as the full bright shining one & every mood in between.
going from zen as fuck to snarky & irrational opened some doors into how i deal with my mood swings…how i deal with my emotions. instead of letting them control me as i try to control them, what if i just say, “hey, there’s that rabid anger again; i wonder what i need to address before i let it go?” or something like that. emotions happen for a reason, right? instead of burying them or denying them, use them as a flashlight to uncover what is really going on. & then let them go.
how can i learn to be crone if i have never learned how to be maiden or mother? how can i accept my crone when i am still pushing away my maiden & my mother?
more epiphanies on the roadblocks in my path. with my masculine nature being my dominant nature, i struggle with anything “feminine.” and when you put it in the terms of maiden, mother, crone my brain just runs away & denies all affiliation. so i am working on, among other things, running towards…embracing…my maiden, mother, & crone.
agony is woven into my soul one part of the whole one color in the tapestry of me there is much more to me than my agony but i wouldn’t be the same without it.
i am thinking a lot about balance lately. and realizing that even when i am not thinking about it, it is still present. recognizing how i need my darkness. what would i be without my darkness? probably bored. & unappreciative of the magic times. like right now.
it was the early nineties when i had the dream. i had been in therapy for awhile terrified of the dark & miserably unhappy but one day it lifted and like a light switch i was happy & no longer afraid–of anything it was around this time i had the dream was it before? was it after? are the two things related at all?
the dream was disturbing a crazy-ass dream where i was a mighty warrior a tiger and other clans would send warriors to fight me i would mercilessly slaughter them sometimes though the other clans would send me young girls to be with as a way of collecting my seed….
fucked up, right? that’s a fucked up dream for a 21 year old girl in iowa. i have been thinking about it a lot lately. wondering if the dream & my becoming happy & brave, have anything to do with each other. a past life remembering healing a present life hurting.
in the dream, i was represented as a tiger–but i was human. recently, googling like crazy, all i have been able to figure out is that tiger is representative of warriors and the such in china. so i started reading up on china’s history to see if i can figure out anything about this dream…but i find myself more drawn to the mongols, of course.
i keep looking to so-called professionals & friends, but as usual, no one ever answers my emails. so i guess i’m on my own. my own master the answer to my own question.
as well as the very first postcard being sent out to a patron!!
oh! & all of these illustrations remind me that today is the spring equinox balance between day & night…balance between light & dark…balance between rest & change. wake up, it’s time to grow happy ostara!
you are the only person
i want to be
not someone like you
(as unlikely as that is)
not someone who treats me
like you treated me
when i think of dating
i feel repulsed
when i imagine
dancing in my kitchen
waking every morning
my whole body tingles
& i swear
i must glow
with sweet longing.
writing this was easy…sharing it–not so much. so i started wondering as i tend to do. why is it easier for me to share my dark & disturbing parts?
my sad & barely surviving parts?
my anxious & depressed parts?
my struggles & shortcomings?
my feelings of worthlessness & isolation?
my oh so crazy bits?
but sharing something i wrote about love…my feelings of love…for another person…i feel like i have gone too far.
i feel like i have crossed some sort of line.
this shouldn’t be allowed!
and, to boot, it is unrequited love i am celebrating.
yuck. so gross.
why do i react to love as if it is something unspeakable? unthinkable? illogical? is this cultural/generational or is it reflective of my damage? or…is my damage also reflective of my culture/generation?
there are entire movies. entire tv series. books, poetry, and songs. all of these. dedicated to love. all kinds of love.
so why do i feel so stupid admitting that i love someone?
so in art journal psychotherapy today we have learned that i am more comfortable with & even celebratory of my darkness & my damage and will happily shove it right in your face….
but when it comes time to share my thoughts of love & devotion & romantic longing…for a man of all things…to admit that i have these feelings…then i ready myself to fall on my sword.
i find being morose a more natural & acceptable state than being dreamy.
yet i call myself quixotic and think of myself as whimsical? a puzzle inside an enigma wrapped in a conundrum.
do you see the exhausting challenge of being me? of living in my head?
in the interest of balance
here it is
a little of my yang for all of the yin
a silly love song.