I read somewhere once that where your mind goes when it wanders is exactly where you should be. Maybe because your subconscious is the gatekeeper of all truths in your soul? I agree with that statement, well, both actually. Lately, my subconscious is whistle-blowing me like a motherfucker…
I want to confess something to you. I’ve only finished probably 10 books in my entire life…but I’ve read hundreds. I think there’s a simple answer for it. I got ADDICTED to Goose-bump books when I was younger. Like so addicted that I would stay up all hours of the night, huddled under a blanket, with a flashlight, in my room, on a school-night and I would be enthralled, scared and all sorts of wonderment filled my revved up little brain. My father couldn’t understand why I was so tired in the morning and why he literally had to throw water on me to wake me up.
I couldn’t help it. Seriously, my entire 5th and 6th grade years I spent in a world of creation. In my mind, I would live out what I was reading on the page and then if I didn’t like what I was imagining, all I would have to do is go to another page and I could re-create whatever I wanted. I got so involved in these stories that I started applying them to everyday life when I wasn’t reading. It’s like they permeated and stained my brain. And then one night I was reading a story, I thought about my sick next door neighbor being in the story and then next thing I know, there’s an ambulance outside her house and she died. Wanna know what I did? Never read a damn Goose-bump book again.
I seriously believe those books are the reason that I find it so damn difficult to finish any other book. There’s a catch though. The books I don’t like, I breeze through, get to the last page, slam it down and shout, “WTF, that was terrible!”. Why? Well, when I love a book, I can’t get enough of it, and when I know I’m getting to the end, I stop. I don’t want it to end, I just want it to keep going. Because it turns my brain on like nothing else. I feel if I don’t finish it, the thoughts will never end, and my brain will always stay in that turned on mode.
Or maybe I just like being teased and knowing that there’s something waiting in my kindle for me to nerd out over is just sweet, blissful anticipation. Who knows, I’m just fucking weird.
Currently, there are about 1,345,762 reasons to be happy at any given moment. I haven’t personally counted them, but considering there’s oodles of blades of grass out in the world, I figure the number of “all happy things” has to be a pretty big number.
But you my friend, know as well as I do, that it is IMPOSSIBLE to be happy at any given moment. I don’t think any human has ever been able to tackle that feat. But man, it’s so easy to latch on to quotes and motivational articles that spew “You have the power to be happy…RIGHT NOW!”
Of course, I do, I’m the one plastering that shit all over Facebook.
However, I don’t fucking feel like it right this second. I actually feel like throwing myself onto the ground and crying until the snot pools onto the carpet. I feel like taking a spoon and digging out this god-awful heaviness sitting in my chest cavity and flinging it against the walls while I continue to ugly cry. I feel like punching things. Many things. All the things. Why? I’m a woman, I can’t even answer that damn question. But, all I want to do is act like a child and throw a temper-tantrum. All I want to do is literally emotionally vomit this horrific feeling out.
Oooooooooh….that’s Anger? Now what the fuck am I supposed to with that?
Seriously, what do you do when you experience anger? Do you even know it’s anger that you’re feeling? Do you even know where it’s coming from? Do you sit in it and really feel it or do you dismiss it as something else and pretend it isn’t there? Do you project it onto someone else or do you internalize it and feel guilty for even feeling it. Do you act on it and punch things or do you pull up your blog and vent interwebly? Do you hear the voice of your parents telling you that it’s not O.K. to be angry and that you need to pray to God and ask for forgiveness for sinning against him? Do you actually believe that God needs to forgive you for being fucking human? Do you get scared and have an anxiety attack, do you grab a bottle of vodka and numb it or do you literally fuck your way through it and let it dissipate as you reach an orgasm. Do you throw an iron at the person you’re angry with? Do you call your best friend and ask her what she would do? Or do you do nothing? And once you realize it’s a part of your life, how do you get rid of it…or should you?
Well, if you haven’t realized it by now, I don’t know jack shit about a lot of things. Especially anger. My pre-conceived notion of expressing anger is…don’t. That pre-conceived notion was my thought process until about, oh, less than 12 hours ago. But hey, we’re all this together, so hear me out.
Repressing anything makes it grow stronger. At least that’s what some random FB photo said to me. And I saw it right after I had a rage fueled meltdown. Like YEARS worth of anger stuffing lead to it. And it seems this year in particular, that’s been my main hurdle to try and jump over without catching my foot and fucking face planting on the concrete. I have failed so many times. Is that the lesson? Fail until you don’t fail?
Nope. You go to your local thrift store, buy the cheapest, ugliest set of dishes you can find and start busting that shit up. One mustard yellow plate at a time.
I just heard you laugh. It was not aroused by me. No.
For the marrying of decibels and vibrations was brought forth by something mysterious, something foreign.
Something that I have no fucking clue how to even begin to find productivity, or passion or even the smallest amount of entertainment in…
But, this isn’t about your masculine affinity to a football dream world. This is about the noises you make when you do it. This is about the feeling that fills the room when you start giggling at your own wittiness and “shit talking” with the other boys.
And perhaps, I have just had an epiphany on love. The depths that it can go, where it can awaken the deepest, darkest cracks in your soul.
The insignifigant moments that bring out euphoria in a lover can stir something so utterly profound in the counterpart.
I am awake. I am fucking awake.
For the laughter of the others who filled the moments before these, rushed past my eardrums. The ones I can remember…filled me with annoyance.
I am not Shakespeare but this moment…I’ll remember it like a first kiss.
And maybe that’s the reward. Being a writer. You cannot help but surrender to moments that aren’t even yours. You cannot say no to the door that is opened in your soul when the knock punches you in the chest. You can’t help but try and find some meaning in it.
But really, fucking fantasy football?
It’s crazy how much things can change in one year. It’s also crazy how the Universe has a cunning little way of showing up when you set your intentions and launch your desires.
Before I left for Guam last year, my entire spiritual practice shifted. Well, really, I think I was actually able to open myself up and commit to some form of spiritual practice rather than walking around aimlessly saying, “It is what it is.” That has lead me to a pretty in-depth self-realization of myself and a re-programming of how I want to exist. It has also lead me to using divination as a tool for self-discovery, a way to help myself heal and a pretty magnificent source to help others as well. So much so, that I have toyed around with the idea of turning that new found passion and path into it’s own blog, saying good-bye and closing the cover on Itookheravice and saying hello to the wondrous possibilities of a spiritual-based educational blog.
I will give you a small little example of why I love using these cards as a way to tap into MY divine knowing.
As has been the norm for me as of late, I go to my cards when I’m seeking just about anything. So, when I posed the question, “Universe, what do I need to know about this new venture I have swirling around in my head. A simple yes or no would be greeeeat”, I picked up my Goddess deck, began shuffling and no sooner than speaking the last word, 5 cards flew out and landed on the floor, one flying about about 10 inches past the other 4. I knew that was my card. I also already knew what was going to be on the flip-side of that card. She always shows up when something creative is on the table, something that I KNOW I “should” be doing but am procrastinating on. She also pops up to remind me that my voice is my gift and I am here to help others find theirs. She is Sarasvati.
Hindu Goddess of the arts, Sarasvati nudges us in all areas of creative expression and helps us focus our minds on our creative endeavors and not get distracted or procrastinate. Sarasvati means “the one who gives the essence of knowledge of our own selves” and is also considered to be the “Mother of the Universe”. We are all “mothers” of our own creations and this card is soooo fitting as a reminder of that.
I was not surprised when I flipped it over and saw that familiar face staring back at me. Most times I see her and she’s saying, “Mercedes, dear, pick up your journal. Work on the book, DO. SOMETHING. Create.” And yes, I already knew the answer to my question as I asked it, but the confirmations the cards bring are undeniable and really give a feeling of magic and synchronicity. Who doesn’t like magic?!
In a way, I guess I dropped a bomb. I like to think of it more as a necessary and very rewarding shift. Don’t worry, my posts aren’t going to take on the “crazy lady with tight hair bun, really ugly shoes and chalkboard pointer thing” teacher persona. More of a “I love my teacher because she uses the F bombs and never makes me take tests!” Boom.