eat me

i would make
a terrible martyr
i am more akin
to jonah
who had to be consumed
by a whale
before he could embrace
his destiny
oh!
to be eaten by a whale
sounds like a relief
compared
to celebrating
the path
dancing down that path
triumphant
in who i am
& what i need to do.

last night i was ready to give up. i went to bed crying. i don’t know what i’m doing. i feel like everything i do is meaningless. i try to take care of myself, but i still look like crap thanks to having four kids and whatever fucked up genes i have that accompany child birthing with seemingly permanent excess fat loads. i’m all like, who would ever love me? i look like crap. who am i kidding?
and then let’s take a look at my art…my so-called art. my terrible writing. do i even make sense? it sucks. i feel like i am a five year old scribbling in a closet hoping that someone notices…angry that no one notices…crushed that no one notices.
i went to bed crying.
i was going to stop.
stop art.
stop ever expecting love.
stop trying.
i was completely & totally planning on giving up on my so-called life.
no hope for love.
no hope for recognition.
no hope for ever earning an income despite working my ass off every day and going to bed exhausted every night….
my life is futile.
my life is a joke.

then. last night as i was crying in the shower, a spider stared me down. a big furry one. it seemed as disgusted with me as i felt.
then. as i sat dejected at my desk this morning, a swallow flew up to my window. three times. three times exactly.

so being a witch…i try to pay attention to the universe’s messages to me. like with the number thing. if you believe the universe is a living & connected thing, then like master ugwe says, “there are no accidents.”
(i that like better than “everything happens for a reason” which is difficult for me to believe…but, there are no accidents? that kind of makes sense.)
and a bird, a specific bird, flying to my window three times, that seems to be a message.

so i got on google and found this site and this information on swallows as a spirit guide. basically asking, are you fucked up? sad? disconnected from your true self? swallow is here to restore your happiness & to help you embrace your journey in a playful and carefree way.
well fuck me running, that resonated.
so i figured i should check with what spider was telling me in the shower. and there it is. finishing what i start. following my destiny. weaving my magic.
not being overwhelmed.
not quitting.

sigh

okay.
how do i do it? how do i embrace my destiny? how do i dance down my path instead of lying down in the weeds next to it & waiting for something to eat me?

to be continued…
(i wonder what spirit guide will show up next…or just fucking eat me.)

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healing

i don’t believe in physical ailments
i always suspect
nausea
headaches
pulled muscles
the flu
warts, even
of being disgruntled messages
from my self-conscious

i once had a horrible, terrible, no-good, very bad boyfriend whom i had trouble leaving. i got sick with a cold that lasted over a month.
i once was in a relationship that was not a relationship although i had not been told by the one i thought was my boyfriend, and i started sleepwalking.
with dusty, dear dear dusty, i got plantar warts that live far longer than a plantar wart should live and are actually colonizing my right foot. i have tried every remedy, and every remedy has failed. i will know i have learned my lesson, when those warts go away.

i pulled a muscle in my back almost two weeks ago. i was way too vigorously digging yams. so many yams! like almost a hundred pounds? no joke. if nothing else, we will have enough yams to last us all winter.
however!
i yernked a muscle.
and being me, i ignored it and went on with my life. building a small hoop house, pushing a dead tractor, wrestling goats, lifting small children, balancing my whole world in one hand while doing everything else with the other hand.
several days later, i was in excruciating pain.
my back was all, “i am outta here.”

so who do i call for help? three guesses…fuck. i call dusty. and as soon as he gets here i know what a mistake i have made.
so now i am irritated. frustrated. bitter.

and my back still hurts like fuck.

what is the lesson here?
(please, seriously, besides actually doing yoga and taking better care of myself…what? does that include my self-self? not just my physical self? i’m supposed to take care of my whole for real-real self? that’s it, isn’t it? well, crap….)

i look for messages everywhere…because they are there.