"But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world . . ." – The Little Prince
We’re all a little yin and yang. Light and dark. Conscious and unconscious. Masculine and feminine. Sun and moon. Found and waiting to be discovered. Known and unknown.
Good and bad? That one, I don’t so much agree with. We ALL have the capacity, in our forgetfulness, fear, and greed, to act poorly and with hate. But I believe we are all good inside. If only the light could shine upon the shadows.
To light up our own shadows, to remember who we are. Because I am not who you think I am. You are not who I think you are.
I have been a product of my programming. Age 0-7, we are in a hypnotic state, simply absorbing the information around us. The training continues after, plus the rebellion of the programming, which is often still a byproduct of the messages learned and rarely pure of heart.
Yet we need not disown our programmed parts, our human self. We simply must remember the light and dark of who we are. Our divine self and human self becoming one. An embrace. Being moved by the energy that which we are, allowing the human self to actualize the love in physical form. Beauty made manifest.
What if you’re already living the life of your dreams? What if you already have all that your heart desires? What if you’re in the experience that your soul wants for you? What if you’ve just been to blind- too judgmental of yourself, too jealous of others, and too busy comparing yourself to everyone else’s life to see it?
Maybe we’re also just too programmed in wanting- not just in material goods, but epic experiences, and personal achievements as measures of self-worth.
It’s like we’re desperately dehydrated and we’re all walking miles and miles for water when it’s always been right there, right under our feet.*
The other day I was talking to my twin sister about joy and Joseph’s Campbell quote “Follow your bliss.” I told her I didn’t know how, that I didn’t know what the line meant. “I mean, I really just care about Pacer, you and Sage, and playing in the mountains.” “But that’s why you’re here, in Salida, with all of us”, my sister said. I complained further, “I haven’t been able to play in the mountains like I want to for years…” I was going to continue about financial stuff, but the annual “Hooligan Race” down the Arkansas River was finally about to start. Which was perfect, because I realized I didn’t really have anything good to say. She was right. I don’t have a whole lot of extra cash, but I have enough to pay for rent and food, enough time for the experiences I want to have outside and with family, my 2 favorite people 10 minutes away and the best dog ever, all of us in a quirky little mountain town. Everything else is fluff, or an excuse as to why I can’t be truly happy now, with the main fluff being the thoughts in my head on what I need to do, have, or achieve to be worthy of joy, love, and contentment (re: inner peace).
I know I’m not the only one with this old programming, believing in the physical when it’s love, beauty, and connection that we all really want, and most of us already have. You’ve seen It’s a Wonderful Life too, right? If we want, if we’re willing to let go of the old stories, we could be happy at this very moment.
*On a podcast, I fumbled on this story, retelling an event in Scott Harrison’s book Thirst: A Story of Redemption, Compassion, and a Mission to Bring Clean Water to the World where an older woman a village in which a well had just been dug couldn’t be happy, saying something like “You mean it was there all along?” and thinking of her years of suffering walking to get water. I too, am often like this woman. I know I could be joyful at any moment but often prefer to hold on to my past, perhaps as a way to give my suffering meaning.
Last year, on two different podcasts, I stated that the masculine* witnessing and being with the pain of the feminine had the potential to heal the world.
*While gender stereotypes play this out in a way that is more evident in the world, I’m specifically talking about energies, not physical bodies. My own inner masculine energies have at times been quite toxic and harmful. While I tend to experience this internally, the world always shows me what I need to heal with external people and events.
What I realize now is that it was only part one. Part two is the feminine forgiving the masculine for all the ways he tried to control, tame, or kill her wild spirit. Perhaps more easily stated, it is us forgiving the parts of ourselves- the interval voices that criticized us, told us what to do, who to be, and how to act, and hid or attempted to annihilate our love after mistaking it for weakness- because those parts were only scared. Scared of what? Being unworthy of unconditional love. But that is simply the myth of the ego.
Part two is forgiving the parts of ourselves that we least want to see (but might also like). (For me, it’s my inner narcissist**, the part of me that wants to be special “a special snowflake”, or what the AA program calls the desire to be “terminally unique”. I’m embarrassed by this part, I don’t like it, it’s beat me up and abused me, and…I’m afraid of losing it. Who am I without it? And no one, no part, is more scared than the narcissist. “If I am not special, no one will love me and I will cease to exist”is the main fear of this shadow part. Its other half is often the “never enough” part. Can I love this part? Can we love this part of ourselves?)
The free spirit of the feminine being gently guided and held by the masculine is the integration of both energies, where two become one, and separation ceases to exist.
**A word on narcissism. Therapeutically, I don’t believe it is overused and cringe when I hear people say that it is, as it often denies the experience of people who have been in relationships (whether romantically, the child of, etc) with people diagnosable narcissistic. That is, when someone doesn’t simply have a narcissistic part but who’s identity is their narcissistic part and becomes the role they play in the world. So, all or almost all of us have a narcissistic part, but not all of us our narcissistic. And, once we admit that, the narcissistic identity projected in the world will most likely lose its power.
***In-between my multiple edits, I was reading “Over the Top: A Raw Journey to Self Love” by Jonathan Van Nest, and read this line, ” Being normal is being completely unique, because nobody is the same.” (I love paradox)
I am a protector of innocence. A warrior of Love. A guardian of beauty. A defender of Truth.
You’ll never see me touch a gun, but I will slay with my heart. My ability to see you through your fear, the only sword I need. My armor, the denial of hate.
I stand for what man tried to take from me, came close but failed. I was simply poisoned, and entered a deep slumber, awakened by my own sweet kiss.
I refuse to go to war, but I’ll throw my body over a child, protecting what is real from your lies. Kill me first, and as my body fades, you’ll remember too: Only love exists.
I am a protector of the innocent.
****I wrote this poem shortly after an experience I had where I did not defend myself, my own innocence and love. I played into the “bro culture” pretending I was being the “fancy” one for requiring vegan food. This, at least, is a step above my high school self trying to fit in. Now, these weren’t bad guys whatsoever…I simply, unconsciously, stepped into a role that I needed to see and ask myself “Where do I not protect my own heart?”
This also got me thinking about what I find sexiest in a man. Brute force, acting cool, big muscles, and guns…definitely do not. But I am highly attracted to men who are willing to use their intellect to protect their heart and the hearts of others, to see and feel their own innocence and be guardians of it, the divine masculine standing alongside the divine feminine (energies that are inside all of us).
The hardest part about letting go… …is actually letting go.
It’s not waiting for someone or something to take my thoughts and low self-esteem away from me, saying “I’m ready! Take this [shitty thought and sadness] from me!”
Instead, it is an active choice.
To say “I don’t think like that anymore, that is not how this me feels”. It’s not being judgmental towards that old version of myself. It is having compassion for her, knowing that she was doing the best she could. But it is letting go of my attachment to her, her thoughts, her beliefs about herself, her projections, her old stories, and her weighty emotions.
And, it is in letting go, that I break free. I let go of gravity, and free fall deep into the unknown. I expect a crash. But instead, I fly.
“When you have a mind that is disciplined, your soul can finally be free.“, a note scratched in my copy of A Course in Miracles.
I have had to detach from the word “discipline”, clear from it my past understanding of it, and reclaim it with new and proper meaning.
Before doing the above exercise for myself, I attached “discipline” with past memories and connotations. It was the strict rule of Catholic school, plaid skirts or weirdly pleated khakis, control, rulers, and a form of punishment. It meant staying inside the lines, not being too weird or too different, and staying boxed in a set of beliefs. It was me trying harder and harder to be better, to improve more, yet staying stuck. I came to associate “discipline” with the energy of “toxic masculinity. Yet every shadow side has a like side, and the word kept coming up that seemed helpful or positive. It seems contradictory to my beliefs to tear down the videos or memes where I saw the word, so it was of my choosing to explore it more.
I finally got it when I was listening to Marianne Williamson give a talk on A Course in Miracles (a book that I’ve been reading for several months). All I remember her saying was “a disciplined mind”, and I understood. My mind is often out of control. It can’t decide what part of me to listen to, often chooses darkness, and believes the voices that tell me how I screwed things up or I’m not enough. My mind is quite undisciplined. And really, that’s part of our culture. We’re taught to be distracted and told there’s nothing that can be done save for a pill if one’s case is severe enough.
We’re also taught that choosing to think positively is “Pollyanna” or dismissive of a mental health diagnosis. Actually, to be blatantly controversial: Joy is a choice. Freedom is a choice. Peace is a choice.
I say this because anything else take away a person’s agency, the control they do have of their life. Lack of agency leads to greater depression and anxiety. I want my clients, I want myself, to reclaim our power. (While it’s absurd to me, we still do this to heart patients too…doctors forget to tell their patients that they can change their diet, exercise habits, and stress levels to improve heart health, and instead prescribe drugs with hefty side effects). Now that choice may be, “I want to feel better”, “I’ll try again tomorrow”, or “I’ll go for a walk”, but it is still a choice over darkness.
With that, I will acknowledge, “easier said than done.” For some of us, the grip of our fears, protector parts, egos, anxiety, depression, thoughts, beliefs, etc (whatever you want to call it) seem intertwined with our very being. This is not true, but the feeling sure feels true. That is why, with both myself and clients, I first just get curious about parts/identities and work with them to see if I can loosen the grip of fear. Why is it there? What is the part protecting? What safety needs to occur for suppressed emotions to be seen and felt?
To circle back, this all comes to getting to choose what you want to believe. What wolf to feed? Love or fear?
While true free will is in this choice, what we do know is this: A mind disciplined in Love will set the soul free.
(This is a very short blog on what I could be a very big topic. Actually, I’ve had a copy of an essay “Mind Control: Becoming a Jedi” sitting in my drafts for months. Perhaps I’ll finish it in the coming months.)
My dad worked as an electrical engineer at the same place for nearly 50 years. Actually, at 71, he still works part time at that company. The job definitely plays well to his analytical brain, but I would never call being an engineer his purpose.
His family titles probably give more insight into his purpose. He’s known as the “toy guy” and the “car guy.” He’s always got toys for the little ones in the family…and toys for himself. He probably has well over 1,000 Matchbox cars in his collection, plus minions and disney characters throughout his house. He’s also the guy everyone calls…whether it me, my cousins, or his brother and sisters and in-laws…for car help. It might be advice on what needs to be fixed, how to get it fixed cheaper, him fixing it, or he’ll lend you a car for as long as you need it. Actually, multiple family members have driven a car first owned by my dad. My dad is the guy who wanted to go to Harry Potter world for his 62nd birthday, and we’re already planning on Disney World/Galaxy’s Edge trip after he turns 72. He’s the dad who still reminds me and Sandi to remember our “happy thoughts” and sends us “unbirthday cards.” My dad has been through a lot of loss in his life, and the joy he still finds is my inspiration as I try to rise above my own darkness.
Part of his purpose comes through his own wounds. While he loves re-telling stories of gathering a group of friends for a baseball game, my dad had a paper route before he was double-digits and quickly became a caretaker for his younger siblings when his own dad had a stroke and later passed away.
His childlike wonder reignites the flame of those who have forgotten theirs. He is a protector that keeps his family safe. He is a Wizard among those who have forgotten their magic. That is his purpose.
Thinking of my dad’s purpose has helped me discover my own.
I might still say that “I help people remember who they are”, or ” I help people become free”, but more simply, I help people feel safe to express their emotions, be who they are, and feel loved. Sure, I did pick a career where I can do that for a living (and it certainly blossomed from my own wounds) but what I have chosen to do really doesn’t matter because I am the embodiment of my own purpose.
I have been on the search for freedom for nearly my whole life, intensely for the past two years, with a balanced measure of both dedication and desperation.
Yet I live in a privileged country, am of white ethnicity ,pretty enough, able-bodied, and grew up solidly middle class. I’ve also been somewhat rebellious in conforming to societal norms.
So why did I feel so trapped, like a bird in a cage? Or like the elk I saw with a fishing net trapped in his antlers? Or the cows I see trapped behind wired fences that surely aren’t there for their safety?
Last summer, I read an Instagram post that said “You can’t find freedom in the same place twice*.” I simultaneously felt a resonance with the message and with an internal “fuck.” Again I had been going to the mountains to find freedom and to my dog for happiness, with a painful Achilles heel that said “You can’t keep going to what’s outside of you to experience what’s within.” The gateways to the experiences you want to have are not the experience themselves. I had caged myself in the wide open, and trapped the being I love the most. Pacer is meant to be my teacher and the Love I am guardian of, not a need to fill what I feel I lack.
But of course, when going on any inner journey with a destination “in mind” (freedom), contrast is usually first experienced. I had to come face to face with all the things that held me down, that kept me from flying: my thoughts, my past, all my old beliefs that cause anxiety, depression, grief, and deep fear. The scariest thing about going into those depths is feeling the impossibility of getting out. It wasn’t long ago that I tearfully told a friend, “I feel so trapped.” I write about this so openly and vulnerably now because I believe this is the dark side of the human experience.
While this part of my journey isn’t quite over, I sense perhaps a shift. A shift in perception. A slight release. A willingness to see and choose differently. It’s taken journaling, meditation, shadow work, allowing life to reveal to me what’s unconscious, tracking my emotions, parts work, friends, books (rec: A Course in Miracles) an almost constant stream of positive messages through podcasts and channelers, and holding on to the belief that “only love is real.” I look forward to recounting my journey as hopefully a guide for others to become (remember) free too.
These men, I am just like them. They blame, I shame. I internalize my hate, They externalize their pain. Me and these men, we are all the same.
Each of these men, lives inside my head.
Trump, he doesn’t really bother me anymore. His bigotry is so outrageous, I can easily call out his show.
Putin scares me a little more. So charming and so smart. He makes me doubt myself, his lies so carefully contrived. Yet void of love, equals void of truth.
Hitler… I dare not tell my parents how many times… how many times he has tried to annihilate my life. Just as he slayed his own innocence, his own artist, he dangerously threatens mine.
Hope. The darkness consumes. So close… Then another part beckons… a dog… a friend… some distant light within.
Keep going. You are meant to be here. Love is on your side. The darkness cannot win. You will shine.
****
(This is part of a much longer poem that I’ve been thinking about but procrastinating on since December.)
Sometimes, my own shame response astounds me in its inappropriateness, even when it consumes me. I spent days feeling shame around a favorite picture of me that a wonderful photographer had taken because I did not wear my favorite bracelet, which was in my pocket. I felt shame after having an amazing outing with Pacer, after realizing I double hit “record” and did not get the video of me skiing with her running free behind me. Sometimes I even get this feeling when I know I’ve made the right decision, it’s just not the one that boosts my ego. And I KNOW it’s ridiculous. Well part of me does. The rest of the voices in my head berate me in various ways: that was so dumb, go back and do it again, be better, try harder, you’re obviously not enough. While I am exhausted by my healing journey and the work I’ve put into it, I can feel my closeness to it. I know there’s a few more feelings to feel, a few more parts to witness, a few more thoughts to observe and walk past. If there ever was a lie, it’s shame, the ultimate but not un-permeable block to love and truth.
Life is a paradox. Relationships are no exception to this rule. In fact, relationships are probably the “exception that proves the rule.” Which means, for me, the more I have accepted that I am the problem in relationships, the more clarity I have gained in realizing I wasn’t the problem. I was attracting the wrong people. That I was, actually, in relationships with partners who couldn’t meet my wants or treat me in the ways I deserved to be treated.
If you haven’t read my first relationship post yet, Relationships: The Problem is Me, I highly recommend starting there, because both these things, that I both was and wasn’t the problem, are absolutely true. I had to admit how I protected myself from love, admit to my own fear-based behaviors, examine my belief systems around relationships, and how I related to myself, before being ready to receive love..
The catch is, if you are coming from a place of emotional immaturity* (from a therapeutic view) or low vibration (spiritual perspective), it’s almost impossible to attract the love and the relationship you want. It’s more likely that you will be provided with a mirror, or someone who reflects back to you all your wounds…especially if you are someone who came to this planet to self-actualize (or rather, heal all wounds to become the truest version of one’s self). Personally, I wasn’t attracting (with a few exceptions) men who could mirror love back to me but instead men who mirrored back my fears, doubts, and demons in my head.
*Just like I don’t use ignorance with a negative connotation, neither do I use the word “immature”. Actually, the more we admit these things, sometimes the smarter we are. Emotional immaturity really just means someone is still learning how to interpret and metabolize their emotions in order to gain a greater sense of peace. What really matters with ignorance and immaturity is that one is willing to grow.
Another way to say this is that intimate* (in-to-me-you-see) relationships will reflect back to you exactly how you see yourself, which may be completely unconscious.
*A friend recently pointed out to me that other relationships, be it friendships or mentorships, reveal back to us how amazing and lovable we truly are.
To be completely apparent with you, the lovely reader, it’s pretty sad how many guys have apologized to me for treating me poorly, including one that maybe didn’t need to and 2 or 3 others that should have. It’s probably obvious from your kind, outside perspective that I shouldn’t have been treated poorly, but it does reveal my inner world. No one has ever been more critical, judgmental, punishing, abusive, conditional, or dismissing of me than me. At least in my recent past.
Another paradox worth noting here: Not all attraction means you should be with someone.
Obi-Wan and his wife helped me with this one, so I won’t take credit, but I wanted to share it because this is something we should have all learned in high school. We can be attracted to various and many people throughout our lives. Some will probably become friends. We may find others appealing to look at. Others we may come into contact with for creative collaborations or support in healing. (This one may obviously have been one of my challenges: as a psychosoul therapist and healer, I can be attracted to the wounded people). Sometimes it’s because there is some type of soul contract we have with a person in this lifetime. (Ooops. I’ve often gotten stuck here too. I have often overextended the timeline on those energy attractions.). Most forms of attraction do not mean that you’ve met someone you should have sex with or would even want to build a relationship with. In short, when you feel attraction towards someone, it is worth exploring what that attraction means. If there is potential for a relationship, it is then worth exploring shared values and dreams in life.
Half the time it was unconscious of what I was attracting, I swear. There was little to no separation between ME and the voices of the protector parts* in my head. Hence why I dated not an overt narcissist, but a covert narcissist. He didn’t treat me well, but he showed me myself. Or rather, my ego self, my fear-based sense of worth. He showed me how easily I could settle for less than what I deserved because this is what I believed that I deserved. “This part of my life is good, so I can take this part not being good.” My excuses were that I didn’t have anywhere else to go and because I really was “content enough.” It’s not that I ignored my inner world. This information just hadn’t been consciously available to me at the time. I needed life to show it to me, plus a few more years of deep underworld journeying and a complete unravelling of my ego-self to see it clearly.
*A reference to IFS therapy.
Perhaps the more challenging “situationship” for me was with the guy I really loved. Or, I thought I was in love with, but more likely was an “infatuation” to use Elizabeth Gilbert’s words in “Committed: A Skeptic Makes Peace with Marriage” ( a great resource for talking any young person out of marriage). To be honest, I had known much earlier that he was my “David”. I always knew he was emotionally, mentally, and physically unavailable. He showed this to me time and time again. But I wanted him to love me so I could feel like I was worth loving.
My attraction was actually desperation.
This allowed my mind to create quite a story in my head that would haunt me for months following.*
*See below for a podcast on how we create untrue stories in our head.
It really wasn’t until a few months ago, until the end of the December’s Mercury Retrograde that beautifully closed out the year and the end of an era, that I could see how poorly he treated me. But again, it hadn’t been clear to me early on. I honestly don’t think he saw it (he was both good of heart and completely aloof). More honestly, I talked myself out of seeing it over and over and over. Because I didn’t love or trust myself enough to walk fully away and close the door.
So when he messaged, in the early hours of the new year “I’m glad I could be a beacon.”, I didn’t even bother to reply and correct him that he was mistaken, that the role he had actually played was that of the angel of death.
Perhaps they are the same, anyway.
In those final conversations, I was able to stay aware of my anxious reactions, even though I was still very much in the emotion.
I didn’t like it. I didn’t want to stay in that energy field anymore. So I quit it. I finally disliked my behavior so much, I quit, just like most quitting happens. Still, quitting is so, so hard for me. It feels like failure. No one told me it would also be freeing. Free to move out of a cycle and accept, at least the possibility, that I was worth more. Freeing to admit that, no, I don’t think it’s okay to openly flirt with someone and then not pursue further contact with them. Freeing to agree with myself that it’s okay to ask for my personal love languages to be given once in a while and not just accept how another person wants to show me theirs. (thank you, Queer Eye, Season 8, episode 1, for highlighting this). Ah, and there it is…
It’s okay for me to have wants.
It’s okay for me to want clear and loving communication. It’s okay for me to respectfully communicate my emotions without the fear of triggering another person and then needing to care for them. It’s okay that sometimes, when I’m hurting, I want to be held. It’s okay for me to want to spend time with someone, to have some safety in plans. It’s okay for me to want someone to want to adventure with me. It’s okay for me to ask to be seen. It’s okay to want a definitive relationship status, not for control, but for a comfortable container of expression. It’s okay, as my sister told me years ago, to want someone who chooses me, too.
For some of you, this might seem simple. For others, you’re probably with me, horrified at the thought of asking anything of anyone. All of these things, growing up, just weren’t okay. I would either be burdening someone with my emotions if I dared share them, told to toughen up, and was given countless examples on how to suppress feelings. It’s also not very Catholic to ask for more.
To be thought of as needy by anyone, would mean I was too much, the paradoxical partner of not enough, yet equally as fearsome. It’s a thin tight rope to walk.* I was bound to fall off. And thank goodness I did.
*This theme was perhaps best represented in The Barbie Movie.
When you’re alone in the dark, the only option is to choose yourself. To take your own hand and say “I love you.” You deserve to have your needs and wants met. And because I’ve always got you, we have the freedom to walk away from anyone and anything that is less than what we deserve.”
This is what heals the abandonment wound. You, Higher Self, showing up for your Inner Child the way your caregivers just couldn’t. This is the safety that confounded me for so long in my continuing education as a therapist. It’s not the promise that life will be smooth and we will never get hurt. It’s that we can always feel free to be our true, authentic selves and even if others don’t like us for it, we’ll always have our own back.
It is in healing this wound that moves empaths out of the shadows and into the light. Instead of getting stuck in seeing others’ potential and staying with them until they get there (which may never happen), we let go trying to change what is and simply step into our own potential. We walk in the energy and love we believe in.
Choosing oneself, myself, means knowing that while I need to validate and accept myself first and foremost, I can, at the same time absolutely know I deserve to be treated well. Confidence, then, is being able to walk away from things and people who devalue my worth and move toward the love attracted by self-love.
The more we love ourselves, the more room we have to love another, and the more we can allow love in. Love attracts love, yet when you are in love yourself, the less you need love from the outside. Which is why true partnership becomes a co-creative act of higher expression.
*****
Other notes and helpful resources:
-In 2023, while I was not given a committed relationship (for good reason, I was gifted with another reflection), I was blessed with “3 wise men ”, all married, all a little bit older and wiser than me. While only my interactions with Obi-Wan were frequent, all of them accepted me freely not for who I appeared to be but who I was. They presented me with the gold, frankincense, and myrrh* of time, curiosity, and positive-regard, the gifts of healing.
-Being a therapist has actually shown me how expansive love is. I truly love all of my clients. They are all special to me and hold space in my heart. There is never less room for a new client. My heart just seems to grow with each new person.
*No, I am not comparing myself to Jesus. I am, however, relating us all to Light and the gifts we all deserve that can help us return back home to it.
-Highly Recommended Book: Calling in “The One”, by Katherine Woodward Thomas. (This book contains one of the most in-depth personal workbooks that I’ve found whether you want a partner or simply want to heal your old wounds.)
A Dog and Her Girl 