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posted September 05, 2020 12:01 AM            

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Hello out there- I’ve just had possibly the most intense 6 weeks or so of my life, just trying to tell the story— it’s a darn good story, but it’s just a prologue, and I’d love some feedback as I move out into the world.
So here’s me: a Libra sun, Leo moon, lots of Sagittarius, Capricorn and Scorpio (astrology isn’t particularly my thing, but it’s an interesting puzzle piece, and I don’t know what time I was born so I can’t get super-specific), nature-loving tendencies tending to bleed over into hermit-like tendencies. I recently ended a 9-year relationship, by far the longest of my life, with the father of the youngest three. I truly love him (“though I’m no longer “in love”), but it has never really been easy between us for long, and has been going downhill for sure since late last year. He was diagnosed with bipolar disorder in young adulthood but generally manages without medication, has had many ups and downs in his efforts to cope with it alone or through talking to me, is very reluctant to seek any kind of “professional” help (whereas my attitude is, yes of course use pharmaceuticals only as a last resort, but why not try... so many other approaches, with a guide that’s better-equipped than me?) So there have been lovely times, and hard times, and plenty of inappropriate outbursts of obviously misdirected negativity over the years... Plus plenty of issues on my part as well, of course, but I really do try to learn from my mistakes.
Anyhow, the sudden catalyst for all this recent upheaval was when he invited an old friend to come stay for a couple of months in another small building on our land as phase 1 of re-settling in the same state as his ex-wife and children. All along B had been telling me, “You’ll love S; you guys are really similar in a lot of ways.” And it was absolutely true— We’re both left-handed Libras, as it turns out, both provided psychedelics to our high school classmates, freaked out about life and hopped on a Greyhound at 17, so we had lots to talk about... and jealousy was one beast I’d never seen before. (B has a lot of insecurities, and one continual issue has been the fact that I don’t open up to him more; right from the start I felt very at home with him, but I am often very introverted and comfortable with silence, and we have simply never had that much of a mental spark between us. It’s only in retrospect and through conversation that I understand how deeply he’s been feeling this lack.) Several miserable weeks later, I was headed into town to pick up the kids after a weekend with my parents and an evening of intense conversation on our part. He grabbed a backpack and hopped in the car with me, picked a fight and started yelling at me, so I just said, Okay, if you really can’t stop doing this, you can come pick up the kids with me if you want but you’re not coming back to the house with me.”

Those weeks were miserable in some ways, but magical too in certain ways, and certain things with the flow of time, and S was very much a bright spot in my day, mainly because of the enormous relief of just having feeling clearly seen and understood in a way that is special whenever it happens, but was so profoundly necessary for me right then... We were having a beer out in the yard one evening after everyone else had gone to bed, and after apologizing for him being witness to so many arguments and such— plus a fair amount of veiled hostility from B— I thanked him most sincerely. I said I felt like talking to him had helped me find my voice with B and finally speak clearly about all the issues I’d been handling so delicately for so long. At some point I trailed off mid-sentence and he tried to finish it with something about taking some of the weight off my shoulders. I said “no, actually... I feel stronger.” He said “Same thing, right?” “Maybe; I don’t think so.”
A couple of days later, I had a physically strange morning. At first I thought it was just having had four cups of coffee and not much else since 4 am, so I ate a banana and drank some kefir and laid out in the yard, but that didn’t help. My heartbeat was perfectly steady, but unusually strong, I don’t know how else to describe what I was feeling, but it wasn’t comfortable. “Schlumpy” was the world I used to use in relation to that tingly feeling that makes you want to stretch and yawn and just... readjust... at the onset of a mushroom trip. Yoga out on the back porch helped. At some point I felt the energy moving from my chest up into my throat and out into my arms and hands. It wasn’t until weeks later that I realized: several times over the last year or two the thought has crossed my mind that there was something amiss with my throat chakra. Communication issues have been so intense and discouraging, but I hadn’t even realized until after this happened just how much I’d been holding back. Not just in conversation— even singing and chanting come so much easier!

So, some of the things I noticed during this time were: S shares first, middle and last initials with my father; I saw them written all over his tools the day after he mentioned that he had been thinking for some time about changing his last name to that of his biological father (middle names had not come up.) At some point astrology came up in conversation, and I was inspired to dig out a book I hadn’t read in many years: The Astrology of Fate by Liz Greene. Seeing the notes inside— not my own— I remembered the much-loved impossible empowering friend who gave it to me— same initials (middle unknown), went to medical school in the same town S spent most of his early childhood. The clock kept showing 11:11; 2:22 and 646 (time or money, not sure) as well. Certain word choices that seemed weirdly significant or straight out of my head. One song in particular that S said he’d written a long time ago that was so eerily descriptive. One morning I woke up and for whatever reason the first words out of my mouth were “Coyote, Coyote, Coyote!” This proved to be so crucial, because I thought about it: Coyote is a benevolent trickster spirit, pulling strings and crossing wires behind the scenes, maybe just for fun and maybe because sometimes we need to be tricked into doing the right thing when our own intentions aren’t fully clear. So INTENTION and COMMUNICATION were the themes on my mind, along with a sense that the universe is definitely playing games with me, so I might as well play along.
This seems like a good place to pause... Thanks for listening!

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posted September 05, 2020 11:10 AM            

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Welcome!

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posted September 05, 2020 12:02 PM            

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Thanks! I’m also just beginning to enjoy the fruits of home internet access for the first time in many years... My neighbors are mostly not humans.

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posted September 05, 2020 12:04 PM            

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...

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posted September 05, 2020 12:12 PM            

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🌙

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posted September 05, 2020 11:15 PM            

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So anyway... everyone’s gone to bed; storytelling continues. One other major synchronicity I left out so far: One evening, as usual, S and I were the last ones up, chilling on the porch; I didn’t have a lighter of my own, so I filled a little oil lamp I’d bought at a second-hand store and not yet used. (Digression— I’m always interested in what my phone’s word prompter has to say . During this last bit, it’s offered me an elephant emoji, then yeti, then future world, then process.) But the lamp 🪔... I had to fill it up and put a brand-new wick in it , tried to light it, realized that the oil needed time to soak in, and forgot about it. I went inside for a bit, making tea and such, and S had evidently gone to bed by the time I came back out. I thought about walking up to ask for a light for the lamp, but decided not to; it seemed too weirdly significant somehow. (I only have a passing familiarity with Linda Goodman; I’ll have to look into this twin flame concept at some point.) So I just lit my last cigarette off the stove, and the next morning I knocked the lamp over and spilled oil everywhere and lost the little metal wick holder, and guess who found it? Later, B noticed the smell and I told him I’d knocked over the oil lamp, and he said “Hey, did you know S almost died from drinking lamp oil as a child?” And related the Biblical significance that made him think of it.
One more thing: I was picking mushrooms (chanterelles!) in the woods one afternoon, and I came across one that I knew was in the genus Lactarius, some of which are edible, so I decided to take it home for further identification. All of a sudden a little later, my face started burning— especially above my lips and around my eyebrow— as if I hadn’t washed my hands well enough after chopping hot peppers. I t was the mushroom, evidently; I had been carelessly wiping sweat and cobwebs off my face after handing something I decided was not worth further investigation at this time after all! Splashing in the creek didn’t help; in fact it only seemed to be getting worse, so I headed back to the house and hopped in the shower as quick as I could, emerging marvelously refreshed and feeling the message that I ought to be very intentional with my hands.

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posted September 06, 2020 06:59 AM            

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posted September 06, 2020 08:03 AM            

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And one more: There was one particular morning when I was, again, doing yoga out in the yard, when all of a sudden I had a flash of... something; I want to call it intuition, but I honestly don’t know if it came from within or without. Either way, it told me that if I walked up to the cottage but didn’t go inside, I’d find a message. So I walked up there, and sure enough, there was a single folded-over scrap of paper laying on the ground just off the edge of the porch steps. The salutation was a quirky, anonymous sort-of endearment, followed by a single sentence about “trying to talk about all the epiphanies I’ve been having lately.” Major butterflies 🦋 at this, of course, but for whatever reason my instinctive response was to put it right back where I found it and mentally say, “Eek, no, wait, I’ve got to clear my mind before I can focus on this!”
So, dear listeners if you may be, here’s another chance to speculate: what might have happened if I’d kept the note instead of putting it back where I found it? Because I have no! idea! if he left it there on purpose and “told” me about it to test the possibility of a genuine mental connection, or if he gave up on writing and dropped it by accident, and I “got the message” from somewhere else entirely! ?????

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posted September 06, 2020 05:22 PM            

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That's a lot to digest. I'll try to comment later.

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posted September 07, 2020 02:30 PM            

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Not to worry; it’s just that I’ve always written best when I can imagine an interlocutor, and none of the old standbys are appropriate for this one; comments are entirely optional!

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posted September 08, 2020 06:33 PM            

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So I think I’m about caught up on the synchronicity aspect of things up to the point where I asked B to leave the house. Please bear in mind that everything I’ve told so far occurred within the space of about 3 weeks; I wish I had been keeping a journal because it’s so hard to get the chronology straight. Causality, time, rational expectations... poof! And meanwhile in the background there’s a definite flirtatious vibe that I’m trying my best to ignore or suppress, because in my experience powerful connections almost always come with passing crushes, and the eerie similarity between other non-romantic loves was thoroughly confusing, and above all because I felt like I simply couldn’t afford the distraction from the more serious long-standing issues between B and I. I was cycling so rapidly between so many different emotions, in different directions, but the one that was always present in the background was just a deep sense of gratitude and reciprocity: when what you naturally have to give is well-received, it’s so easy to want to give more, and more, and more... This must be what it truly means when someone ‘brings out the best in you’— so different from the eager-to-please, trying to become a better version of yourself in order to win someone’s approval mentality that I was stuck in for so long.
Whoo— I’ve been digressing right from the start! I meant to tell about the copperheads lurking nearby. B actually caught one and scooped it into a bucket and carried it off down the road and set it free. The evening of his second day out of the house, S got bitten on the foot! I called an ambulance and drove ten miles into town to meet them, but they were being weird and didn’t have any antivenom or anything else to treat him with on the way, so we decided that it was basically just a really expensive taxi ride and I should just take him there myself. Digression: if you or someone around you gets bitten by a venomous snake, do not try to suck out the venom by mouth. You can buy a snakebite kit that has a little vacuum-suction device which can apparently be helpful if you do it fast enough... Do not use a tourniquet, but you can use a wide flat band of fabric to lightly constrict the limb above the bite— like a dog collar, 2 fingers should slip comfortably underneath. This may need to be loosened as swelling progresses. The person should move as little as possible, trying not to elevate their heartbeat. Depending on the severity of the bite, doctors may or may not administer antivenom; seek professional treatment right away no matter what! Follow-up care can include gentle self-massage starting at the farthest extremity of the limb and moving toward the heart; soaking with Epsom salts; and hot poultices of garlic and turmeric to reduce inflammation.
After a day or two, I could see that S was getting very restless, worrying about not being able to work, and deeply uncomfortable with having to ask for anything. This was the point at which I finally tried (without much success, I suspect!) to explain the sense of karmic obligation that I felt— that his presence had been a catalyst for such profound internal change, that I was glad to have the opportunity to do something in return, and that on some level I felt that maybe this happened because issues that are repressed internally are sometimes forced to manifest externally, and whatever it was, that he obviously needed a certain period of time when he would be forced to focus on his own healing and could only do so from a position where it was perfectly obvious that no one else should expect anything from him — and maybe also that he ought to get comfortable with the idea of letting someone else take care of him, at least a little bit. So I tried my best to do so in a non-smothering manner: I asked him to take some time to think about what kinds of foods his body was asking for and make me a grocery list; I’d lug a bucket of hot water and Epsom salts up to the cottage once a day; after the swelling started to go down somewhat I offered to try my hand at a massage. I was thinking about the “careful with your hands” mushroom burn, and wondering if I should be trying to learn some sort of energy healing...
To be continued

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posted September 08, 2020 06:44 PM            

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Further digression: Yesterday out of the blue I was presented with the opportunity to help scatter the ashes of a total stranger with the same first name as my grandmother. My son found the empty urn in the trunk, and without having any idea of what it was, he decided to build a cardboard Egyptian pyramid to put it in.

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posted September 08, 2020 09:15 PM            

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So grateful for this reference library, but I’m starting to feel like I have to finish the story before I put any more new stuff in my mind.

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posted September 08, 2020 10:48 PM            

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So, I think I’ll divert attention to B for a bit. He is 13 years older than me, a Pisces, lost a brother to suicide, and has a terrible relationship with his parents. He was raised in a church environment that his sister describes as “cult-like”; very much a sin-and-guilt-and-fear-of-judgment mentality, at the very least. Having no analogous experience, it took me a long time to see what an enormous struggle it must be to ever overcome. I remember reading something where this guy is describing coming home from school as a child, finding the house empty, and his immediate response was to assume that the Rapture had come and everyone else had been taken up to Heaven. I read this passage out loud to B, and he just said “yup, that was me too.” At any rate, he has completely rejected the version of Christianity he was raised with, and come to a completely different understanding of his own, and it is really quite moving and beautiful, but it only resonates with me in a limited way. The teachings of Yeshua, and certain Psalms, hold a lot of power for me, but Christianity is a rather late addition to my spiritual goodie bag; they all bleed into one another to some extent. I’m also pretty content with my live-and-let-live attitude about such things; it never really bothered me that we weren’t quite in accord on these things, unless it led to an outward conflict over how to live or act.
This is not a perfect place to pause, but pause I must.

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posted September 09, 2020 07:43 AM            

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So— B’s approach to life and spirituality is entirely heart-centric (doesn’t trust his mind, isn’t kind to his body). I have always admired his willingness to reach out to anyone who is struggling— he’ll sit down and introduce himself and have a long conversation with a homeless panhandler that many people wouldn’t even make eye contact with; his friends all know him as someone who can always be counted on to lend a hand or an ear to anyone who needs it. Very much focused on selfless service, which is beautiful but problematic without a willingness to look deep within, because he doesn’t know when or how to say no to anyone, and he definitely craves recognition and appreciation far more than he’s willing to admit, so he often ends up ‘giving till it hurts,’ and then feeling devastated and betrayed when people take his generosity for granted or don’t return the same. He seems to believe that selfishness is the cardinal sin, and something that he’s all too willing to call me out on. I’ll admit that there are times when it’s true; however, I feel that true self-knowledge is an absolutely necessary foundation for spiritual growth. I’m generally pretty comfortable with knowing my own needs, knowing my own limits, and choosing not to overextend or exhaust myself by pouring out energy into something that doesn’t seem to be making good use of it. I once tried to explain that the path I followed into early adulthood was motivated mainly by a desire to experience everything— to see new places, meet new people, expose myself to new ways of life, feel the nuance and intensity of every emotion a person is capable of — then pare it down to the bare essentials. To B, this approach is selfish and hedonistic; to me, his approach seems simply... off-balance. I have tried to tell him so many times, as gently as I can, that the root of his difficulty is in the fact that HE DOESN’T LOVE HIMSELF. Beneath the generosity and empathy is a deep well of doubt and self-loathing, and a voracious need to fill or cover that void with something external. Feeling good about himself because of his good deeds is one manifestation; codependency in our relationship is another. He needs so much attention, so much overt display of gratitude and affection, it is flat-out exhausting! He truly can’t stand the fact that I have thoughts and feelings and stories that I don’t feel compelled to share with him. Again, I try often to explain that, while it doesn’t come naturally, I’m willing to try, but he has certain habits of speech and habits of mind that make it especially hard. He has a very binary perspective and a willingness to apply instinctive value judgments (“well, it’s either this or that, and I know which one I prefer”) whereas I am much more comfortable with nuance and ambiguity; seeing something from every possible angle is more interesting and fruitful to me than arriving at a definite conclusion. I’m also not particularly interested in converting anyone else to my point of view; if he doesn’t seem receptive to what I’m saying, I have no motivation to keep trying. The only reason I criticize his approach is that it’s so obviously not working: he pushes himself to the point of exhaustion, doesn’t take care of his body, gives away money left and right, bottles up resentment and then dumps it out on me when it gets to be too much. Then he’ll apologize and absolve himself with the admission that it’s not about me, it’s because he’s exhausted and overwhelmed and tired of always working so hard and having nothing to show for it. But he adamantly resists any suggestion that he change his actions: Because living fully in the moment and acting freely from the heart is all that really matters. I don’t get it: that sounds exactly right, but for whatever reason it just doesn’t seem to work out very well.

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posted September 09, 2020 09:14 AM            

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As for myself, Tibetan Buddhism was my original point of entry into the realm of spiritual exploration. Mind-body disciplines have always appealed to me (though I’m not really all that disciplined about it!); Kum Nye, Ashtanga yoga, T’ai Chi, Kundalini yoga — I’ve feasted with Hare Krishnas and been hugged by Amma and showed up with a bag of tortilla chips for a potluck at Ram Dass’s house; I love bhajans and gospel music and reggae; I attended a college founded by radical Christian abolitionists; I take what I love from each experience and use it mainly in service to my own equanimity and joy. I have never really thought of myself as being a ‘spiritual seeker’ at heart; I think my model of what that means involves a lot more discipline and thirst for understanding than I possess. I feel like I acquired the tools I needed to move out into the world, and was content to direct my attention to the material in trust that if I needed more, it would come to me. And boy, has it ever! Thanks again, Coyote, for helping me to clarify and cultivate my own perfect mindset: The willing suspension of disbelief!

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posted September 09, 2020 09:47 AM            

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That, and a deep connection to the natural world. I set out on the wandering phase of my life with a desire to escape the confining routines and materialistic traps of society. I wanted to see what I really needed in order to live well. During this time I got into a very unhealthy, controlling, codependent relationship; got out of it, then back in after finding out I was pregnant; then finally out for good at 7 months, when I finally realized that I couldn’t possibly allow a child to witness or endure what I was willing to experience for myself.
So— living out of a backpack for several years, rarely with more money than what I needed to eat that day, bouncing between work-trades on farms and busking, begging or eating in soup kitchens, I decided that the best course of action would be to really learn to feed myself. So I went back to school and studied sustainable agriculture, with the goal of sharing that knowledge with a wider community and also becoming as self-sufficient as possible. Over time, I have come to appreciate not just the necessity of this work but the peace it brings— and the even deeper peace of being in the natural world without the need to cultivate, eradicate, control or change a single thing. The beauty and complexity and innate perfection of the Earth is deeper and more powerful for me than any connection I’ve ever felt with one specific human being.

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posted September 09, 2020 10:50 AM            

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S’s angle of approach is completely different. We spent a lot of time listening to podcasts, watching videos or reading about ideas I had never heard of, or had only the most passing familiarity with: Ancient languages, ancient civilizations, extraterrestrial beings, theories on the origin of humanity, ESP and channeling and paranormal occurrences of all kinds. As usual, there were ‘yes, of course!’ bits and ‘hmm, that’s interesting’ bits and ‘I think I’ll just set that aside’ bits. The thing that eventually came to become most significant for me was the concept of harmonic resonance, the music of the spheres, the mirrored patterns of microcosm and macrocosm, the energetic response of the human body to certain frequencies. He’s a musician who uses the A=432 hz tuning, a concept I was totally unfamiliar with, and for one reason or another it’s definitely true that his music provoked a very strong emotional and physical response for me. I don’t actually know what he knows or believes about God, but I definitely got the sense that he is coming from a much darker and more cynical place than I am; less willing to trust other people, and more importantly less willing to trust that the universe loves him and has good things in store for him. Maybe he’s never seen any proof of it; I know that he didn’t have a happy childhood either, though I really don’t know that much about him at all. But I certainly do get the feeling that life, for him, is a fundamentally adversarial experience in some ways. He trusts only himself, relies only on himself, and has never expected anything to come easily. Not that he said any of this, it’s just my intuitive sense of where the differences between us are most significant. Bottom line: I had a happy childhood; neither of them did. My parents, while utterly conventional in many ways, have always loved me and honored my need to forge my own path even when they didn’t understand it at all.

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posted September 09, 2020 09:47 PM            

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The aforementioned knowledge-gathering expeditions with S took place most intensively during the week after the snakebite. Along with it came a steady increase in physical contact, definitely initiated by me quite cautiously, but quickly going from “I’m comfortable in your space; are you?” to late-night clothed full-body massages for both of us. (I’m pretty sure he was the one setting the pace at this point, but it’s hard to say at any given moment.)
Ah yes, mustn’t forget to digress... This first week with B out of the house was far from easy on our older son in particular... the Pisces, the tender-hearted boy with the terrible temper. Seeing him obviously pick up on and imitate B’s actions over the previous weeks (as opposed to just naturally having a similar temperament) was my prime motivation in deciding that I was done with being yelled at. At some point during this week, our younger son woke up one morning and announced, “I had a regular dream; there weren’t any monsters.” He told me that he and his father and brother were in kayaks out on the ocean; he could see the roofs of the houses underwater; there was a tree on a rocky island with branches strong enough to hold his weight when he climbed up into it. I asked if the others had climbed up onto the island with him; he said no. Obvious symbolism, of course; his brother’s tempers have actually mellowed to below baseline recently, but he has been clinging to me harder than ever, trying to get my attention when necessary by acting like a baby (squeaky-voiced and crawling). So thank you, adult human beings of the world who put your voices out there like little fireflies in the dark, reminding one another that we’ve all always been here....

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posted September 09, 2020 11:34 PM            

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posted September 10, 2020 10:01 AM            

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You lead quite an exciting life!

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posted September 11, 2020 05:36 AM            

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Only on occasion, thank goodness! It’s funny, I was just thinking... COVID basically turned everyone’s lives upside down— but not me, because I was already a hermit in the woods, so things didn’t really change all that much for me. I was even tempted to get a little smug about my own foresight and preparedness, then WHAM! Guess I just needed a little help catching up...
By the way, I sure do appreciate all the time you must be putting into repeatedly bumping all those beautiful long-abandoned threads up to where they’ll be seen. It’s a little disappointing when I realize I’m trying to jump into a conversation that went on pause three years ago, but oh well. Thoughts do have a life of their own, after all.

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posted September 11, 2020 10:11 AM            

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Oh, lovely! I’m seeing a black snake for the first time in months. It’s a young one; it’s moving away now. It was perfectly still under the sycamore, right by where the top block of my bow drill was sitting.

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posted September 11, 2020 11:44 AM            

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Yeah, I think introverts have been preparing for Covid their entire lives.

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posted September 12, 2020 08:31 AM            

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It’s not so much about introversion— I think part of my problem is that I’m not actually quite as introverted as my recent life circumstances suggest. I’m not a doomsday prepper either, I’ve just always had the sense when I look around at the man-made world that this stuff can’t possibly last much longer. I was just reading The Akashic Experience, and one of the contributing writers, Swami Kriyananda, says:
“The reading did say one thing about my future, which could be of interest to many people. What it stated was, “In the future of his country, when there will be weeping in every home...” and spoke of my role in those trying times. I can easily accept that prediction of “weeping in every home” as a possibility, for I have long believed, and indeed my guru predicted, that a serious depression will come, which will be, he said, “much worse than the depression of the 1930s.” To another disciple he said also, “The dollar won’t be worth the paper it’s printed on.” If you take to heart only this much of what I have written, you may be helped by receiving a salutary warning. The solution my guru suggested was that people band together, buy land out in the country, and form small, self-sustaining cooperative communities.”

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