New Life, Protective Shadow, and RIP to my friend Sheila

I love you my friend

I’m starting to feel an emergence of new life after a long journey through the Underworld. I saw ghosts and demons, real life monsters in mirrors. I faced self-hatred and pity, shame and selfishness, the most disgusting parts of me. I paid my karmic debt for years of toxic positivity with inevitable passage through the darker realms.

I have gained much through the Temperance of the Middle Way.

Today was especially difficult. I finally went back onto Instagram and found a message from a friend whom had been looking for me. I was also trying to get a hold of her, but lost her number. She passed away and no one had anyway of telling me because I was hiding in my cell. I realized then that my hermetic comfort cost me far more than I’d anticipated.

I was hiding because I’d been hurt by a sorceress, someone who was supposed to be my teacher and mentor. She had hurt so many people in such profound ways, someone had to stand up to her. So I did. As you can imagine, it didn’t turn out well for me. Yet I do not regret my words or actions.

I hid from her as I felt a curse fall like a blanket of smoke over a crowd of young souls. It had happened before in another life, and yet I made the same mistake of running and hiding. It seemed the wisest thing to do, because the truth is, I was in over my head. I didn’t know how to protect myself from such a powerful being.

With great grief in my heart I can see that in my crystal cave I hid from the ones who loved me. I cut out good people for the sake of one. I abandoned a friend without so much of a word of explanation.

I’m so sorry, Sheila. I miss you. I love you. I’m sorry for not being a better friend. God rest your soul.

It was more than that.

I used to spill my guts all over the screen, but now days, I have a Scorpion wife whose privacy is her safe space, and I have vowed to protect that space. Let’s just say that marriage is hard work. I was a fool to think otherwise. My other half is a constant reminder that I myself am not a perfect being, and to love my shadow is the single most greatest challenge of this world, and also the key to a more Divine Union with my wife.

After a long day of seemingly fruitless emotional toil, I sat in the bathtub where I usually baptize myself in the womb of the Divine Mother. Here I cried tears of frustration, of long-suffering, and of being oh-so-fucking-done with the way that I’d been living –the life of a child, ever-expectant, naive and dependent. Angry and entitled.

It is the moment of Death, the Ten of Swords, that I declared that I could not go on like that anymore. I opened my heart and allowed it all to come to the surface, to be seen by the Ones who guide me, heal me, Love me. Then, I laid down and slept for two hours.

I’ve come to accept that growth is a vital part of my life. Without growth there is no survival. Without healing there’s no point in living. I welcome growth, and all the pains that one finds along this sacred road.

Now, I feel lighter. I’m reclaiming the parts of me that were lost to the sorceress, the parts that protected me with tough skin, a chin held high even though I was dying inside. You see, it’s not healthy to destroy all your personas and defense mechanisms. We have them for a reason.Without my defenses, I was vulnerable to abuse, not just by her, but by people in power in different aspects of my life.

My wounds were on display for any predator to see, as through her training, I adopted the demeanor of a lame deer, just waiting to become some lioness’ prey. I’d lost the survival instincts that I needed to show the world that I was not someone to fuck with. I became a fucking Care Bear, which is fine, but there are times when we need to bare our fangs for the sake of survival.

So, of course, this lame deer found a place to hide.

Back then, it was all a lie. Since the 8th grade, I learned that if you pretend you’re not afraid, no one will fuck with you. If they do, and you can hold your poker face, they’ll stop fucking with you. Sometimes you have to fight, but then they will know.

I’m no one to fuck with.

It’s not a lie anymore. I don’t have to pretend I’m not afraid. I have roots that ground me, integrity that centers me, and an open heart that guides the way. I don’t bother with small-minded haters, and I send grace to anyone who might consider themselves my enemy. Yet I can bare my fangs and I will fight if I have to.

So, here I am. No longer hiding. No longer afraid of rejection. No longer tailoring my words for acceptance and understanding. I feel stronger than I have in a long time.

I’ve come full circle, it seems. A four-year cycle is finally ending, and I can’t believe that I’ve made it this far. I’m so grateful.

To anyone reading this, I pray blessings of peace, clarity, and overwhelming abundance.

Good night. ❤

Conversations with My Self.

The blank page taunts me with its… blankness. lol.

I used to be a good writer, a poet, a novelist. Now, I’m at a loss for words. The blocks pile upon each other and I know I’m supposed to accept that.

Yet, a writer needs to write. Am I so afraid of what might emerge from the depths, some deep-sea monster, a Kraken?

Perhaps it’s the pressure of not fucking up, not saying the wrong thing. No one can cancel me if my audience is even smaller than my inner circle, lol.

Maybe that’s a way of shrinking myself, because the freedom to make mistakes means more to me than popularity.

What about fulfilling your purpose though? Doesn’t a writer have something important to say?

Sure. How about, “Fuck your sense of importance!?”

I used to say that the writer is nothing without the reader, for without the receiver, does one truly transmit?

Bullshit. I can keep whispering to myself in my corner of the universe and never have to worry about the drama that happens on social media.

So, you’re hiding then?

I’ve stopped trying to heal the world, and instead am working on healing myself.

You’re hiding.

I’ve always been a hermetic soul. Call it what you will.

You do know it’s the Age of Aquarius, right? This is a once in a 26-millennium party, and you’re hiding in your crystal cave.

The Ancestors are here. The Stone Nation. The Bats. The Primordial Waters.

The humans have hurt you.

The humans have hurt everyone.

Thus, you are not alone.

My service doesn’t seem appreciated here.

You want to be the CEO, not the janitor?

But I am the fucking janitor, aren’t I?

You’re a little more than that.

I’m the empath who cleans up everyone’s shit for little pay and little respect. That’s a janitor’s job.

You’re ready for a promotion, I take it?

What do you have in mind?

How about Healer? Teacher? Storyteller? Alchemist? Environmentalist? Take your pick.

I am all of those things. But this world doesn’t want my service.

You’re not here to help everyone. Only those who see you. But they can’t see if you if you’re hiding in your cave.

I need answers first.

Read your books then. Journal. Continue to sing the songs of your ancestors. Continue learning Spanish. Continue writing poetry. Continue to dance.

Okay.

Right now I need you to rest.

Do you want me to delete this or post it?

Are you ashamed of the fact that you talk to yourself when you’re supposed to be blogging because the only time you blog is at 4 AM when you’re too tired to think straight so you have to split your mind into pieces so this time is actually productive?

Oh. I thought you were my higher self.

At this point, I am.

What about the other posts?

Your grandmother and great-grandmother are here. Would you like to say hello?

Mijo, you have many cobwebs in your face. It’s okay. You do not need to be clear every night. Go to sleep now. Big day tomorrow.

Okay.

One day you will feel more confident of my voice because I will speak to you in Spanish. When you are ready.

Si, Abuelas. Cuando yo estoy listo.

Buenas, Mijo. Te amamos.