My Story: My Mother, My Hell

My mother, after my parents separated, became very bitter and angry. It was around the age of eight, that things seemed to spiral downwards into a dark abyss. Without my dad there, my grandmother intruded more on our daily lives, dictating everything we did and how we did it. My mother often fought with her as she tried to maintain some control in her own household. Being a single parent with twins was more than she could manage. Feelings of isolation and helplessness only compounded her mental illness.

Sadly, most of my memories of my mother are not good ones. Often I'd be the target of her blood cursing screams. She often would tell me, " I brought you into this world and I can take you out!" Or, "I wish you were never born!"

Those verbal attacks frightened me so. It was as if I could feel the air around me get heavier and evil lurking within it. I got into the habit of locking my bedroom door at night when I went to bed- afraid she would act out her threat.

Mental illness can take many forms. Often children are the victims of a parent's mental illness. Not to my knowledge has my mother ever been treated or diagnosed for bipolarism, and/or schizophrenia. All the signs were there from her rapid changing moods, pacing back and forth, rehearsing conversations out loud, inability to cope with minor problems.

It deeply saddens me that I couldn't do anything to help her. Even though I was just a kid and didn't understand how frightening her reality must of been. As a daughter I still want to make it all better. I feel guilt for never bonding with my mother, but I also feel blessed to have learned such valuable spiritual lessons. 

The harsh environment was a catalyst for my spiritual yearning. Rumi does remind us, "Severity polishes the soul." My soul is still being polished by the harshness of this world. And like Rumi, I liken my body as a guesthouse to all the sorrow, pain, joy, and love that enters it. 

Note to reader~ In my book, Stringing Beads: Making a Beautiful Life Moment by Moment, I recount my parents divorce. 

The Realm of Fantasy

The cause of pain is rooted in this world. All your desires take possession of your mind, speech, and actions. A million desires run through the mind. They have an Act 1, Act 2, Act 3 (beginning, middle, and end).

There is a place without noise, words, and duality- beyond this world the world of Unity, where there is no distinction between you and I. 

The speech of soul grows without letters. The soul's desire for expression creates an effect in the world of existence- where it can act out all of it's dreamings.

The Lover and The Beloved: The Worshipper

Up until my last breath I will be grieving in the depths of my soul. My cries may be in vain, but I would accomplish nothing by just lying still.

The Beloved prefers for me to moan, groan, and complain. How else am I to get the attention of his longing ear?

The memory of the Beloved torments the lover. The lover plays the game of worship. When the Beloved catches wind of the lover's state, he drops to his knees and forgets he is the one being worshipped and becomes the worshipper.

Seth- Your Inner Senses

Using your inner senses, you can perceive reality as it exists apart from the play and your role in it. In order to do this you must momentarily at least turn your attention away from the constant activity that is taking place - turn off the physical senses, as it were- and switch your attention to those events that have escaped you earlier.

Reference~ Seth Speaks

The Story of Sapphire and Arion: Arion's Eyes

Sapphire could feel the raw power of Arion's body in her closeness to him. She studied every inch of his body. She knew the thickness of his hands, the creases in his face when he smiled, and the pleasure she got from studying his form.

But there was one thing that troubled her. The one detail that she overlooked. Sapphire could not recall the color of his eyes. This bothered her deeply.

Sapphire was always too shy to look Arion directly in the eyes. Yet, it was those same eyes that struck her heart with lightning. Now she would give anything to peer into their abyss and be lost again inside of them.

Dream of Meeting Photographer

Photography by Paul Goble

From Journal Entry 6/26/2014

A guy gave me a blue classic car. I asked him why he gave it to me. He said he wants me to get excited and admire his work. I told him that in fact I do. It's just I have a deep sadness inside of me. I feel that I do understand how he feels- that he made something awesome and he wants others to admire it.

A few weeks ago, I crossed paths with a photographer. He loved my 1960 Buick and asked if I would pose on the car. I hesitantly did. I normally don't like my picture taken, for as the saying goes, "A picture reveals a thousand words." 
I do feel he captured my sadness. What I didn't know at the time was that a dream from almost two years ago, would foretell of my encounter with this man, and that through his lens he is able to capture my inner state.