There is a shape to the kind of being I am, and maybe you recognize this shape in yourself as well.
We are all aware of Old Souls, but I think sometimes it’s easier to see it in others, than it is to see it in ourselves.
Most of us who live relatively humbly tend to stand just on the outside of the spotlight. It seems there are so many clamoring to be heard and noticed. Somewhere in the last ten or fifteen years I found myself saying we are the quiet ones in the middle.
I’ve also found myself saying this is Hell and we are either here to: 1) drop off our trash – usually people and ideas we’ve collected over a few lifetimes 2) to be dropped off as that trash or 3) LEARN.
There is a concept of Leave no Trace, but it’s even more important, do I dare say impactful to leave it better than you found it and in exchange, you also leave better than you started.
I have been out here trying to make sense of the patterns I’m seeing in my life and how to apply it in a larger sense. So I go to my kids to start this story.
I have a nephew. This kid was a pain in the ass from the get go. He didn’t really care about the who, although I’ll get to that in a minute. He is a rebel and has made his own way as long as I’ve known him.
One of the qualities that Old “Soles” (people who have walked a few miles) have is that we are rebels. “Go fuck yourself” is a way we exist because it’s how we’ve always survived.
My nephew was one of these kids, the youngest in his family (me too). When he was a toddler, he would hold a wrapper, it didn’t matter what kind, on his cheek while making a suckling face with his mouth. Like most things, I found I had filed them away in my memory until something came of it or more of the same shows up making said pattern come forward. My daughter Morgan made the same face, but didn’t require the wrapper. There is a caricature of her at home with this face. Oddly, or not so oddly, it was my mother who noticed it first.
I remember a movie, or maybe it was a dream where this plant that looked like a wild hibiscus would stab you in the cheek and suck the life force out of you. Later I got stung by a bumble bee on my own cheek some fifty years later.
Looking back, I see that as kids who found a substitute for “latching on” during nursing. While I was able to make milk, I wasn’t able to dispense it, so Morgan was bottle fed from the get go. I think that dark energy participates in this to lead to kids feeling unattached to their mothers. Little did they know that I gave birth to someone who had more experience and expertise in needling them and the gift of Relational Alchemy (see below). She asked not to go “home” to her grandparents at a pretty young age. She recognized the danger intrinsically…and early on.
When my daughter was a newborn, I had to go back to work as most folks have to do after six weeks or so. I found a caregiver via recommendation from a co-worker. I was seeking a private caregiver over an institutional situation.
Martha was retired from the Air Force and seemed like the strong willed being I wanted to have watching my kiddo. Problem was, three months in, my baby girl got pneumonia. With no family around, I was DEPENDING on Martha to be the guardian of mine during the course of the work day.
I didn’t know then that we were in Hell.
Morgan ended up in the hospital over the Christmas holidays not yet three months old. It felt like we almost lost her. She ended up recovering, and I was so relieved but feeling very cautious about moving forward. The next time she had to finish a course of meds, I went to pick her up and her medicine was still in her go bag, un-administered. I confronted Martha about it, and she fired me.
LOL – SHE FIRED ME.
New mom, shook up, putting one foot in front of the other.
I stayed home with her a for a while during recovery, and it was then that I realized that she didn’t sleep near as much as she did when the bulk of her time was spent with her caregiver Martha. Every day when I picked her up, she was in the living room in her car carrier asleep. I just thought it was her pattern – ugh and facepalm.
While interviewing new caregivers, it came to light through the “Association” grapevine that Martha actually bragged about how SHE managed more kids than allowed by law. She drugged them. Just a little Benadryl in their formula and they would stay blissfully quiet.
Of course, I reported Martha, who bragged later (JESUS, now I’m wondering what kind of association the association was!!!) that the person from the licensing agency didn’t even get past her front door.
This brings me back to what I said earlier. As an old soul, I could:
make a stink now and put a bunch of energy into each case
OR
Tag them as I go and bring a sack of them to Hell and drop them off here. Lord knows I’m an efficiency guy.
It would be easy to look back and be appalled that I didn’t do more. Don’t think I didn’t have a catch in my breathing while writing this, but fortunately, I’ve had many more examples recently, so I think I’m good.
Now back to my kids.
I think some kids are born with enough past lives under their respective belts to weather a storm or two right out of the womb in this new lifetime.
I’m pretty sure Morgan rattled enough people in her last lifetime, or the space between that they came in guns-a-blazing in her new lifetime.
I know this because it happened to me too.
There is a leg on this journey called “orphaned and abandoned”. It’s the leg that turns some of us into something akin to Elite Special Forces. Think of Navy Seals being thrown into water they gagged, bound, no goggles, and no air or Army Rangers. It’s a coursework for those who are not faint of heart.
This leg is only for the most hearty souls.
Back to Joe, specifically. My favorite story about Joe – so probably NOT his favorite – was about him as a teenager. He was out in the driveway at my mom’s house shooting hoops and threw the ball against the garage door. Not only were the doors painted white, but they were also old. Damned teenage trouble maker looked right at me and double hand passed that ball at the garage door like you would to a teammate so you could get the pass back and take the shot.
I said, “Do it again…..”
He did.
I still remember to this day that I was wearing panty hose with something akin to skorts and high heels. I chased that fucker down the street and he…well he didn’t run, but he also didn’t let me catch up with him saying “You don’t want any of this.”
It still makes me laugh to this day, but here’s the thing. There was respect.
I only have two rules in my lifetime if we’re going to co-exist. Respect and reciprocity. If you give it, you’re going to get it right back. Be it laughter and joy or an attack. This is a gift and I call it Relational Alchemy.
There is another thing I’ve found myself doing. I have found myself eating according to the energy I’m dealing with. For instance, I’ve spent a great deal of the last couple of years eating root vegetables. The roots of a thing are the cause of a thing. Pork has come to represent a particular religious group who came after me spiritually – (they’re the ones who make the flies when an exorcism happens). This thing is extremely close in nature, but it’s called RELATIVE Alchemy. It’s driven by the theory of relativity. I’m going to say that both are probably the same, but I keep them straight in my head by using relational vs relative since there is no theory of relationivity.
This is my very favorite thing about Joe and he finds this out with this writing. You don’t have to believe it, but it might be the ballsiest move I’ve ever seen.
I’ve been eating chicken wings my whole adult life. For me, this represent the wings of the “angels” who didn’t make it. The fallen angels…the cowards.
When our grandma(s) went to heaven to be angels…um….they didn’t make it.
This guy (my nephew) built a whole-assed successful business model on the preparation and serving of chicken wings.
My daughter is the queen of Nachos – I don’t know who I belong to, but I’m “nachos” AND she is also a big fan of wings – me too.
This is what we do when the darkness is following us around trying to find an in and I believe we do it without even thinking about it.
We’re THAT good.
Me? I drink the “Body of Christ” in the form of the Carbs in Beer – for it was the Body of Christ that came after me first. After that it changes depending on the core of the energy I’m dealing with.
Charcuterie board ingredients are the day to day provisions for road-tripping – no meaning, they just “keep” on the trail.
One of the things that has been brought for me to remember in this “review lifetime” is that we have choices. I was given the choice to use black magic. This is the age of mysticism after all, but I instinctively know NOT to call on that – but we all have gifts that exist outside of the current OS (Operating System), that we have earned through lifetimes of experience. I am a mirror. A reflector. A Relativity Alchemist.
Einstein didn’t spend near enough time with Relativity – Things in relation to one another.
It must be amazingly frustrating to realize you had only scratched the surface before your clock ran out.
I have recently come to understand the “nursery” tie in. The theme that a nursery is a place where one cultivates starts and cuttings. Where this cheek-sucking plant comes in. I think the cheek sucker broke the seal between the mother and their newborn.
This is an entire sub-group in dark/demon energy. The caregivers for our children. Martha was one. My mom was one. My grandmother was one. My nanny as a child, Ms. Lee was one. She was the one who dubbed me Soo-ji-oh which loosely translates to Clear Running Water.
These people get between kids and their parent starting their leg of this journey with a feeling of being Orphaned/Abandoned. Not to worry. We’re supposed to know that’s the leg we’re working on before we get here – they say it would be cheating for us to know in advance. For the record, I don’t like this system and have spent a fair amount of my energy and gifts to leave it here in hell with the shitty energy that created it.
As for my Korean name, I have added my own punctuation – Clear! Running Water! Since then, I’ve had a Forestry Service Ranger add additional meaning to that. When flooding happens in the wilderness, water moves swiftly causing movement on the boulder level in turn causing the sides of the canyon to cave in. I abbreviate this today to mean. Water cuts deep. Sides fall in.
And that my friends is how re-wilding happens. Water is the flow we move with in life. We the Seals don’t even realize we’re in water other people can’t see.
Physics and Metaphysics for the win…again.