410: Belly of a Star: New Blog

Hello lovely loves. I have done some soul-searching…big surprise, and with the help of some friends who listened and offered some ideas, (thank you, thank you),I gave myself some incubation time (new for me, as I used to make quick and rash decisions to end the limbo-state of angst), and have started a new blog.

As I explained to my husband today, I started feeling like a fraud here at Everyday. I know I am not, and I know I haven’t partook in trickery, but I was feeling a bit off balance. In reflection, I realized my focus is likely not returning to the unraveling of Aspergers and the finding of self, as I have pretty much found my self and understood Aspergers in-depth. I suppose I could teach about Aspergers and strategies, and techniques, and such, but that is not where my heart’s intention is at the current moment.

Now that I have ‘found’ myself again, (thanks to many of you), and learned to accept myself, I am finding this silly little-self has plunged deeply into wanting to lose herself, e.g., become mindful, fully present, compassionate, loving and kind with my mind on the benefit of all and not of self. Will I stay in this mindset? I don’t have a clue.

Some very interesting things are happening; if you have been privy to my journey, you know about my visions. Well this morning, I was taking my short drive home from dropping of my son and I had this image and ‘vision.’ I saw my dog in all her cuteness and all her pain-in-the-buttness (her nickname is spastic colon but it should be spastic bladder!) and I had this image of her having the Buddha in her or the light of God, or Jesus, or any of the number of love-filled sources. And I thought I ought to try to practice seeing her in compassion, too. This vision went on for some time: me seeing my dog in different ways, people seeing my dog in different ways. When I got home and read the new book I recently purchased, I turned to the next chapter and the prose was exactly about seeing the Buddha in your dog! Now this was just too much. Events like this continue to happen. Almost every post I write, if I go and read from a spiritual text after writing, the words are typically about what I have just written about. I find this very validating and confirming.

I continue to get a jolt in my heart when someone judges me or judges someone else. I don’t know what that is about. It hurts like a huge electric shock. I feel it. I see it. I accept it. And then it is gone. Before I would have held onto the judgment and taken the words in as my truth. I know I cannot please everyone. However, I still don’t understand why people need to take defense to what I write. It just seems like plain silliness. Sometimes I can see that they are very much upholding their truth as the truth—and I suppose that is their right. I just don’t choose to uphold my truth as having to be someone else’s truth or way, and think the world would be a much happier place if others stopped pushing their belief systems on people. Just my two-cents.

I still have opinions and attachments, obviously. The day I pretend I don’t, call me on it. Because the day I don’t, I won’t be here. I will be floating and invisible. I promise not to haunt you, if you leave chocolate on your night stand. Dark, please.

I was thinking today (hehe) that at moments it appears to be easier walking in this world as a meanie rather than a kind person. People might not like you when you’re mean, but they trust you. They don’t think you are hiding anything and don’t think you have an agenda. Around these parts, in the world I mean, some people get very suspicious of optimistic, giving, authentic, and caring people. It’s like sometimes people are waiting for me to mess up, or be flawed, or say something mean, so they can shout: “Ah-ha! See! Caught Ya!” It’s a bit disconcerting, but definitely part of my journey. I don’t think I will ever truly comprehend loud, aggressive, and in-your-face types of people. I know it (whatever it is) takes all types, and surely if it was a loud, aggressive, in-your-face dog, I would still love the dog, and hope the dog would calm down long enough for me to get close and cuddle. I suppose I see angry people this way, too. I am waiting in the backdrop watching them in their own discomfort and defense, wondering if I can ever truly approach without risking a bite.

I am so not perfect in my humanness. So greatly flawed in my frailties. But in my spirit and in my connection to the all, I am a rockstar. And thusly I seek comfort in my being, accept my journey as is, even with the sudden bolts.

One last thing, a temporary truth, to me, does not imply no faith, or blind faith, or no God, or no source, it just implies, (for me, at least), that I recognize my perception of the world changes from moment to moment based on my emotions, mood, health, environment, exposure, learnings, stimuli, etcetera. Temporary truth can mean a truth I will hold onto until I die, as life is temporary. Or it could be a truth I let go of tomorrow. I find peace in the phrase temporary truth because I feel if others offered me their temporary truth instead of dogma, rigidness, and self-righteousness (at least what I perceive as such) I wouldn’t get those bolts of discomfort.

I am truly not the arguing and debating type. It’s not that I don’t have the wits for it, or the ammunition, or the guts, I just lack the desire to prove a point, when I am not attached to points. I am attached to not being attached… and that’s where I am at. And after four-decades of being stuck like Velcro to MY truths, it feels tremendously freeing to step away and release the heavy burden of what is and what is right.

I still have a personality of course—I just don’t need to prove I am any one to any one anymore.

In concerning this blog, I will continue to write a few posts a month, I think, but only related to ASD. As I was saying, I felt a bit like a fraud, as my blog is pulling a large audience in search of Aspergers, and my genre had quickly turned to mostly spiritual awakenings. By starting another blog, I am giving the reader the freedom to choose if he or she wants to listen to my spiritual thoughts, instead of being bombarded with them. I like this decision. And look forward to the new journey. I will see you here soon. I am sure something is bound to come up not related to the invisibleness of not being—like a barking boob of a person that immediately pulls me out of my state of Zen…. Hehehehe (see I can still fit in, nicely)

Until we meet again, much love and hugs.

Xo ~ Sam

My New Blog is Here:

http://bellyofastar.wordpress.com/about/

I am super surprised pain-in-the-buttness isn’t a word! Silly spell check. Come on, this is earth!

365: What’s Working for this Aspie Super Hero!

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“In respect to anger, he is only a visitor in fleeting moments, like a painter’s brush that passes through my soul and leaves behind a wonderous view of causation; his visit absent of judgment or need, the open door left ajar to futher awareness.” ~ Sam

Look! It’s post 365…..well, I actually forgot one post somewhere in the 100 range, and deleted another post… so it’s really post 363, and that means I can keep writing forever and ever. I have no idea when I will stop this blog, but number 365 was always a big goal-number for me, as it represents a year and all; even though the year I began blogging was a leap year—this my son with Aspergers was sure to point out when I began my daily writings.

I cannot believe how much self-growth I have encountered in the last “year” of posts. Truly amazing it is; and except for my nasty bout with the long term, miserable bronchitis (6 weeks of being couch-bound), I kept up my writings fairly well. I started in February and here it is only early April of the following year. Wow…over a year of writing. And all-in-all likely some 450 pages plus. (Some posts were “long.” Euphemism for went on and on and on and on.)

What I really like about blogging is meeting such a fine community of people. So much kindness and sincerity of heart; putting myself out there wasn’t easy, but the people I came in contact with offered such support and love. I am truly grateful. What I learned the most, thus far, is that I am not normal, and that no one else is, and that I am perfectly fine with that. I also learned I can write, I am a poet, I can paint, I can ramble, I can joke, I can be very serious and melancholic, and that I am consistently a kind and gentle person. I learned too that many of my followers/readers have many awesome abilities and talents.
Now for the other stuff…..

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What’s working for this Aspie Superhero!

1) I know myself. I know myself inside and out. I spent three years writing out my life story. The first draft led me to much pain and sadness. The second draft caused me anger and rage. By the third draft I was able to forgive and let go. This was a long, gruesome process in which I not only learned how to write, but also learned how to spell! Dyslexia take that…slash, slash, slash. I underwent years of psychotherapy, small group therapy, individual counseling, couple counseling…basically the works. You name it, I likely tried it… within limits of course. I read every self-help book and spiritual book I could get my hands on. Once during an obsessive fixation phase in my early twenties, and again during another phase about two years ago. I be ready to break free, I tells ya!

2) I let go of myself. After all the intense studying of said-self and after undergoing years, albeit decades of self-discovery, I was pretty attached the concept of ME. I still disliked me. Shoot, I despised me, most of the time. I knew a lot about myself though! It wasn’t until I started shedding off everything I’d learned about myself and focusing (and praying ) about releasing myself from myself (letting go of ego attachment) that I was able to start liking myself. It was a weird scenario. First dig deep into emotions, feel emotions, recognize self, acknowledge self, and then stare at self and think: “Hmmm, now what?” So at that time I surrendered. I have my own faith, my own feelings of whom my maker is, so I surrendered to this source I choose to call God. Something I learned from the numerous 12-step programs I used to partake in. Upon release I began to see change. It was slow going at first, but it surfaced readily and things started shifting in me.

3) Forgiveness Stage…. Blahh. Hardest year of my life. Well two and a half years, honestly. Reading a dozen Buddhist books helped. So did books on cds about forgiveness. I had to grieve and grieve and grieve, and I had to spill out to strangers. That would be you, the blog followers. Strangers in the “thank you so fricken much” sense. I had to spill out the sewage and retardant that was still seeping and sticking to me. Not fun. Not easy. But so very much worth the angst and effort.
I remember thinking I’d never be able to forgive one particular person. I practiced active visualization, sound therapy, meditation, yoga, anything and practically everything to push them mean old thoughts out of my head. Yuck; it was like throwing up at times. Sometimes, it was painstakingly heartbreaking. But the more I forgave, the more miracles happened in my life. Unexpected gifts, wonderful “coincidences,” and more and more friendships. The more I let go and released, the more came back to me, gifts wrapped in beneficial love and goodness. No more icky stuff. I can honestly say today there is not one person I dislike, hold a grudge against, or haven’t forgiven…including me!

4) Analyzing Pride. Oh my. What a huge stepping stone, like the most biggest gigantic step imaginable. I always considered myself decently humble and lacking much pride until the vultures came and attacked…or at least did what I perceived as an attack. Up until a couple months ago, I had the hardest time with put downs, criticism, or anyone not agreeing with me. Hmmm, seems ego plays a big part in that. That ego-release is an ongoing journey; one which fortunately gets easier with practice. I thought I was just a sweet sensitive thing. But in truth I was too wrapped up in myself to see that what people thought of me or said about me, first of all was none of my business. and second of all didn’t change whom I was one bit. I never wanted to be one of those people who say: I don’t care what people think of me. And I am not. I do care. I care that others find the capacity to love unconditionally and see the good in all, because that makes this world a better place for everyone. But now, today, and all my tomorrows I pray, I can say: How people perceive me does not change me, make me, or define me. I am who I am. And I choose to see myself as a beneficial loving being. I really digged what my angels showed me. They taught me that if I choose to build myself up by other people’s praises of me, then at the same instant I am choosing to knock myself down when people criticize me. And I was able to release. Now I remain fairly balanced and equal. Along with this letting go of what other people think of me came a bonus super-size-me package. Yes, a bonus! Now that I wasn’t letting myself be affected by the ups and downs of what others said about me, I also wasn’t able to get angry or mad anymore… Basically, I lost my ability to get defensive and reactive around others! Even my husband! Yes, ladies, even my spouse! Now if I am angry at all it is for one minute, and then a flash of knowledge comes and teaches me in minutes all of the reasons why I am angry. And then I can’t be angry anymore. The anger just vanishes.

5) Begging for Humility (on bended knee, no less). I sometimes slip into the opposite zone of selflessness and become overly concerned about humility, and worried what the big party in the sky thinks of me. It’s like my spirit has an ego, too! Now that I think about it, maybe I need to get my soul into ego-begone-rehab. I pray all the time for humility. Actually I found a couple things that work well for me. Number one is: I know, accept, and acknowledge my gifts and abilities do not come from me, and that I am a vessel; what I create pours through me from source. This I believe with all of my heart and this frees me from feeling bad about feeling good—a strange dichotomy that I think many a people can relate to. Number two is: I kneel in the shower sobbing for forgiveness and my angels laugh at me. Yes, they do. They didn’t used to, but now they see my actions as redundant and a bit hysterical, leaning towards ridiculous. But I still cry and kneel anyhow. Seems to keep me humble enough, even with their chuckles. They love me, too, and remind me that the whole worrying about being humble and “good” enough is okay; and not to dwell on the process or I just will sink deeper into the quick sand of self.

6) Analyzing my fear. I became acutely aware of my thoughts associated with fear, and realized I was living a life (lie) based on fear. Anyone who says you need a little fear, it’s good for you, or healthy for you, I say nonsense. (Actually in a Zen way I nod and smile and say nothing.) I have come to terms with the fact that the only thing that is “good” for me is love. That’s it. Nothing else. No fear has ever helped me in any way. I can logically prepare myself for events or happenings without fear. And yes, my adrenaline might rev up when I am in danger and my biological body may enter a state of fear for protection from possible threat, but my mind doesn’t have to follow. I can step out, be the observer, breathe and calm my own being. It is amazing and so entirely freeing. I can watch the loops, the cycles, the anxiety spin, and simply whisper: Hello fear. Hello fear. Hello fear. By acknowledging fear, I learn from fear. And he becomes my teacher and friend. Soon I love fear so much, he has enough confidence to leave me and find a new friend! I like to build fear up through analytical discussions, dissection, and gentle release. Lately, I can feel a slight tingle in my body and recognize fear instantly. And as soon as I recognize him, within seconds he dissipates. He just doesn’t have so much fun with me anymore now that I don’t partake in long games of hide-and-seek. And I don’t lie or hold things back either. And fear, he likes when his friends withhold and tell falsehoods—he thrives on that. Also, I don’t believe in him, really. I think he is an illusion; and that belief kind of makes him vanish. Overall, fear comes for a visit every once and awhile, but the door is always open for his quick exist; and he gets tired of me sharing about him with the rest of the world, too. He likes to be kept in secret; that’s where he strives. Me, and my aspie brain and fever for writing—well he figures his days are numbered anyhow. (My thoughts on fear.)

7) Being in my body. I spent so much time outside of my body. With the sensory overload, the tension around strangers, the past humiliations and traumas, and with my wicked imagination and fantasy life, it was far easier for me to exist outside of my body than inside. I was almost entirely absent for many of my adult years. I couldn’t readily identify how I felt emotionally or physically beyond scared, tired, and anxious. Now I practice grounding myself, feeling my body, checking in with my physical-being and with my emotional-being. I let myself be present. I practice returning to self fully. I am still working on recognizing my breathing, but this too will come. It is nice to be home again, back in my body where I belong. I still allow myself to drift, especially when I need escape from emotional stress. But I give myself permission: I might daydream, paint, write, or partake in a task, and let myself float out momentarily. However I am aware of the freedom I am granting myself and in full control of my actions. I like being in me again. I like feeling again. And emotions, after I looked at them long enough, they aren’t that scary after all. (related poem)

8) Asking to be filled with spirit and have the capacity for unconditional love. This one was an easy one. Likely because I have a direct line to my (sometimes obnoxious) angels now, and because I’d done so many years of groundwork purging out toxic emotions. I was taught, through visions and meditation, that I first had to love myself and see the light in myself in order to love others. I can call this learning to love the self or I can call this learning to love the light. Actually the names and order of loving don’t matter, as I don’t believe I could have learned to love myself without loving the whole of the universe first. Once I was able to see the miracles of the world, to connect with nature, and with life in general, I was able to see beauty everywhere. I don’t know how this happened or transpired. I know there was a lot of trust involved on my part, a lot of prayer, and a lot of hope and faith. Also, a big part of my healing happened because I followed my heart and desire to serve others. That’s all I have ever wanted to do: to love and serve; and so when this blog indirectly led to an opportunity to give back, I was amazed and embraced the opportunity. There is something very healing and powerful about finding one’s soul print, discovering that way to walk in the world that honors your gifts and truly allows you to be happy in your authenticity. I guess in the beginning, I would have had to have made a deal to be entirely forthcoming and real, and to be authentic, in order for the vocation to come to me, instead of me to it. So that too, is part of this, the being real, not being afraid to be who I was meant to be.

9) Giving back without intention. My angels taught me months and months ago not to make my writing about self-intention. I was not to write for anyone. I was to write for one purpose: to heal myself and others. I was to make this my healing journey and in return others would be healed. I saw this clearly in vision after vision, starting fourteen years ago. I didn’t know at the time this was the venue they were referring to, but as I started connecting I was reminded by spirit to be nothing but authentic, honest, and real. I was not to try to win anyone over, try to impress, or try to get “published.” I was taught that if I attached my own self-interest to my writings the energy would change and that I wouldn’t heal and others wouldn’t be afforded the opportunity to heal. So I released and trusted. I took away my selfish desires, and along with that I practiced releasing envy, jealousy, want, and need in relation to my works. It was crucial for me to be able to release fear and be in my body. Because once connected to my emotions, I could release the want to be special, noticed, or succeed. One of the best feelings for me ever was when I reached the point where I no longer cared about outcomes. That was huge. I am no longer outcome centered or focused, and now, for most areas of my life I can sit back and enjoy without worrying about the end goal. I recognize the present is the present, the journey is the gift, and the end is illusion.

10) Finding a place to be me. Throughout this journey it was essential for me to establish safe places where I could say and do anything and others would love me unconditionally. Having online friends has been important. I have turned time and time again to people with Aspergers and people without Aspergers for advice, comfort, or simply to process and talk. Without these people I would not have gained the confidence and trust in self to continue on my journey. This includes the people who commented on my blog and in other social networks. Their words kept me going and kept me moving. In addition, I found that the more I let myself be me that others were granted the freedom to be themselves. This was a double-bonus which brought and continues to bring me feelings of joy and peace. I am at a stage in my life where I am entirely comfortable with my humanness and my world. I understand I will experience ups and downs, that I will still have moments of doubts, that I will still cry and sometimes allow fear to be my imagined teacher, but I carry with me the strength of a thousand other people, who have stood with me in this journey and proven to me time and time again the beauty and magnificence of the human spirit. It was in being in the companty of many, I learned to trust again. Today I am a super hero only because you are one, endowed with your super capacity to love. Thank you.

Love and Light,
Sam

https://soundcloud.com/#ramdass/8-how-to-deal-with-fear (to release fear) 🙂

363: Gluttony and Surrender

I am really struggling with gluttony. Not in the over-indulgence-of-substance modern-day view of gluttony, but in the John of the Cross way. Gluttony in the sense of being one who applies too much self-affliction, self-persecution, and self-punishment. I’ve had this “issue,” or decree of self-annihilation of self from self, since I can recollect, particularly surfacing about the time of puberty.

I get locked into this dance of enough and not enough, real and not real, opinion and not opinion, hanging myself on a loom of remorse of never finding the answers. I am stuck on this pendulum and all I can hear is the tick-tick-ticking of which way. Do I cling to the wall on the left or the wall on the right; or do I find a way to make the pendulum swing the direction opposite of east-west, and spring out ahead north or fall behind south. Or do I jump off of the pendulum and sink into the dark unknown abyss. I don’t know. But I know I am tired of my reasoning-brain, this spill of logic that dives into every thought I have.

The only time I feel at peace is when I am in a state of meditation (grace) and connection (to Holy Spirit), which I can now acquire for up to six hours straight. This time with source is beyond wonderful and the beauty is indescribable.

However there exists one major problem: I now feel like two people.

I feel like this higher-self, this ideal me, the one I have always wanted to reconnect with. But I also feel like this other person, this other me. The other me is where I am at right now. This other me is where I am having difficulty being.

This ideal me, she has it together, really does. She loves and serves unconditionally. She lives in the moment. She is pretty fabulous. She also, through all of this, manages to be humble and so very giving.

The problem occurs when she disappears, or slips back, or falls asleep, or goes somewhere, perhaps skydiving with the angels, and I am back, facing me in the mirror, a face I don’t recognize in a body I do not want. I am in essence lost, having had just been to a place beyond imagination of divine love and inherent goodness. It is this attachment to the higher power I long for and live for that continues to slip out of my grasp and leave me to wonder what happened, and if indeed I imagined everything.

At a logical level I know something is happening beyond myself. Too many dreams have come true, too many intuitive knowings, too many connections, “coincidences,” signs, recognitions, and premonitions materializing. I recognize this, but no proof seems enough when dealing with that which still remains unattainable and unimaginable, at least not in the state I am in this very moment, one of the fallen me, left abandoned waiting to reconnect with the infinite divine.

There is more happenings as well; beyond the empathic abilities, the visions, the ability to scribe deep philosophical prose from seemingly nowhere, there is my husband, whom is known to be a skeptic and prone to Mr. Spock Vulcan like tendencies. He sees the miraculous changes in me and is in awe of the visions and writings I share; so much so in fact that he has taken a liking to referring to himself as Mrs. Noah, like the Biblical Noah’s wife. Wherein I get all the glory and he works diligently in the background.

I can’t deny some dynamic shifts have taken place. My healing visions have materialized, people have contacted me I knew I would meet, and I have connected with such spectacular and marvelous people from all over the world, many whom have become friends and confidants. All is happening in a wonderful way. Joy-filled connections daily and heart-endearing messages. I am beyond thankful, but still remains this lingering doubt.

As much as I experience these visions and write these writings, I still question my own ability and worthiness. Primarily these are the same doubts I have had my entire life. I have the same record playing in the background.

Though I have much transitioned, and have gained tremendous peace, self-acceptance, serenity and love of myself and others, I still have this part of me whom wonders why. Could it be the decades of searching has finally materialized the part of me that was lost, and that in finding my own vocation and life’s purpose another part of me, the same part that held me back for so many years, is here trembling in the corner denying such a reality exists?

For in the corner I hear drenching thoughts of: I am no one special. I am just this flawed stumbling human being endowed with troubling thoughts I cannot purge, fear I cannot conquer, and tears that continually flow. I am ultimately imperfection, unworthy of the extreme goodness and joy I am afforded.

And all this surfaces, while the other me, the observer, she steps back in form and watches, her smile wide, her heart open, whispering surrender, sweet one, surrender.

360: The Ashes of Discovery

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I pulled myself into church, today.

I have been searching within about where to take my next steps, in regards to my calling and passion for service. I believe spirit planted in my heart a connection that will lead me through.

Just yesterday, I was able to slip out of a depression brought on by PMDD, a condition I believe to be common with women on the autistic spectrum, and a condition that quadrupled my pain and quadrupled my thoughts of unworthiness.

I am recognizing that the first twenty-days, following my cycle, I have energy, renewed hope, an abundance of radiating light, and confidence in my journey. Interestingly, when sorting through my blog posts, I noticed a definite trend. Through my words, I can readily see how I become sad following a cycle of hope.

It is very surreal for me to step back and become the observer of self, to see what has transpired in the last thirteen months, and to reflect in the place and places I stood. The experience teaches me that indeed I am continually transitioning and continue to be increased in my faith and vocation, despite the set backs and the challenges, all which derive from my own self (ego, self-form, lack in faith.)

In recognizing this PMDD and how it affects my moods, and thusly my ability to remain steadfast in hope and courage, I am understanding I would benefit from putting support in place. As the last ten days of the cycle following ovulation, (I follow the exact cycle of the full moon.), I seep day-by-day into a greater degree of pain and disheartenment. I have found, though, through review, if I am surrounded by family and/or friends, I am pulled out of isolation, and therefore the depression is lifted and I am filled with love.

In seeing this, it makes sense for me to put into place a support system, in which my friends and family understand what is happening to me at a biological level. I am working on creating this space for me, of love and nourishment of soul, in the next weeks, while I am in a “good” place, not yet exhausted or immobile from the various “syndromes” I am healing from.

This has brought me much clarity, the recognition of the PMDD and how in effect I am not governed by my mind and/or spirit when the hormones shift rapidly. Knowing I am a part of the percent who feels an actual sensitivity to my hormones makes complete sense. And to a lesser degree has, much like the discovering of Aspergers, led me to several ah!-ha! moments, in which I review the past in flash backs and recognize that though I struggled repeatedly for answers to my pain and suffering, and dedicated my efforts to “controlling” my moods and pain through faith, that in fact, some things were beyond my control.

I see this as a direct parallel in how I searched for decades for answers about why I felt different from the majority (Aspergers), and wearily came up with few answers. In the past, increasingly, as I dedicated myself to finding solutions, increasingly I was disappointed, and sometimes shunned and criticized. My strength in self faltered in stability, as my hormones shifted, and I can see this in photographs of myself where I am bloated, discouraged, and have a sadness in my eyes that radiates lost and abandoned.

I now understand that why for some thirty years I have struggled monthly with a feeling of being lost to myself. To a degree I have been. For during these ten days, I develop a skewered view of my physical body: I believe that I am extremely fat, ugly, disproportionately put together wrong, and unworthy of recognition. I essentially hide from the world and the fear of judgment, becoming immobile and unable to leave my house, even to step into the yard. This confusion of my appearance is a trait of PMDD, and possibly a result of a variant enzyme in my body. This makes sense.

However, for so long, with both Aspergers and my mood “swings,” I blamed myself and my inability to rise and conquer my own mind and weeping spirit. How funny to think I was my worst judge and worst enemy, believing if I only tried harder and hard enough I would create the person I wished to be.

In truth it was the process of surrender and exposure of self that led to the underlying waves of causation, e.g., admitting weakness and loss of control led to answers. This recent last week of self-discovery was patched with confusion and doubt. Yet, I am thankful I gave up long enough to find the answers. Too, this past week, was filled with fear, which I am certain affected my pain-threshold and outlook.

The fear arose from illusion: that of death, illness, and surprise. I have carried with me, since a small child, the inevitable feeling that death will surprise me. Perhaps this dread surfaced from the dreams of prophecy I had in my youth wherein I predicted the death of my beloved pets. Perhaps the fear was constructed from the experience of continual change and loss of people in my life. Maybe, the fear took root when my kindergarten teacher died. Or just maybe the distrust and feelings of doom are genetically or spiritually a part of who I am at this moment.

Regardless, fear of death is a constant battle, an aspect of my life I am releasing continually. I have learned to recognize this fear before both feet are through my threshold. I acknowledge this existence of up most illusion.

“Fear,” I whisper.
“Fear,” I say.

And then I retreat back, a gentler part of self, and watch with much release as the messages spin and play, some forgotten record moved again by some forgotten will. In this way I survive. In this way I live.

Recently, in observing this fear all week, revved-up by the revelation of an inherent physical “flaw,”—that of PMDD—I was able to again and again surrender to my higher power and wrap my heart around the concept of submission. I feared, certainly, as the illusion came knocking again and again. But something remarkable has happened in the last months. In essence, I am so highly aware of fear’s calling that at first knock I am already removed, letting only a part of self dance and the rest set about to learn, as if placed in classroom by something beyond chance.

This is a level of transition from where I was before; and though I tremble and weep inside, experiencing moments of extreme bouts of forsaken soul, the rest of me, a greater mass, retreats into the echoes of truth, beckoning the light at the end of the bleakness to move forward and touch me before I step to touch light.

And this is glorious. For as I am in the mold of shadows, I also dwell in the light of goodness. And I know, with this flicker of hope, I will be alright. I am learning, slowly and steadily, to hold onto the glimmer, the slimness of glory, and learning in time, with the passing of days, I will return.

Is this still frightening, this purging of fear?

Yes, extremely so.

But am I growing and reaping benefit?

Yes, I am.

In all ways I am the embers in the fire pierced in pain, releasing to the cold black of coal, and then being rectified, removed from the flame ash, and brought back to the earth of goodness. And this is what I hold onto: The ability to continually rise from the ashes.

In saying all of this, I will release my fear, as I have been taught in vision that beyond fear is where I find love’s adobe.

When I abide in love, I am free. And so I tell you, my listener, what I fear.

I fear that I am creating a book and that in this book will be a history that is all of me, and that is to me frightening in varying degrees.

First is the judgment that will be set upon me, as writer, as woman, but beyond that as spirit. But this I can conquer, this fear is limiting and unsubstantial in its potency. For I know I am love and light, as I know you are.

The second fear is found in the process of building a foundation of support. I will be led, and have been led, in direction in regards to this journey; a journey which I now hesitate to call mine, as so many of you reading are affectively part of this journey now. In being led, I know I will hit walls and ditches and even waterfalls; I will tumble and fall; I am human and shall not be perfect. And in this fear, too, I am ready to breathe. I can breathe here, in this illusion of failure and wrong turns, possible deceit, and survive. I see this as only shadows and a necessary part of my path, much faced already and much climbed. So, yes, this fear I can release, too.

Thirdly, and perhaps the biggest fear, is found in the potentiality of being separated from others.

I am fearful I will non-intentionally create a path that others interpret as rigid, narrow, and religious. And that is not my intention. I welcome all walks of faith and walks of life. I have been shown in vision the discrepancies of spirit filtered through the falsehood of judgment and pride. I have been shown that my path is never the right path and never the right way. That my perception and my very comfort and haven of safety, have been self-created based on circumstance and what I choose to see and make my foundation and truth. In essence my truth can never be anyone else’s truth unless the all of us are one.

And in this way, I hesitate, in the way of a one wanting to be a helper to all and not a select group. I want to be a gift to all who need refuge and retreat, and not a one who would by appearance, and appearance alone, be an illusion of someone who segregates and isolates.

Thusly, in connecting any of my works to a title or an establishment, I also at the same time connect myself to a “label,” and to the judgment of others based on that label.

And it is in this judgment my fear lives. Here in the heart of me who weeps knowing that by choosing anything at anytime, others are automatically left out by their own doing.

But left out of what? Left out of what? Is what I ask.

In truth, I imagine, they are actually left out of nothing, beyond my own journey.

And so is this my fear: The fear of being separated by my perceived actions?

Is this fear not once again the same fear that is the irrigation and fertilization system of Aspergers?

The fear of being left out by another from his or her perceived judgment of my action. That of his energy shifting, his thoughts, his opinion, his view of me, in fact the existence of me (as I only exist in interpretation), being altered without my control.

Yes. This is the deepest fear. The loss of control.

In reviewing this with audience, I see that in stepping out and making choice in the direction for my book, I am at the same time creating a space for my deepest fear of separation based on others’ views. And thusly, I recognize that this, too, this journey to create my story into book form, like my genetic makeup, like my view of the world, like the way I communicate–literally crying and shaking in my boots—is yet another mirror exposing fear bred from the beast of longing to control.

And today, on this day of resurrection, I release, I let go of this part of self, who so longs to unite and join, but still hovers under the illusion and want of control.

I let go of this self who wishes to dislodge judgment and rigidness from her own being, yet still formulates and categorizes in hopes of solution.

I release this frightened child who thinks that like before the rest of the world will rebel against her way of existence. And I give to myself the gift of removal of control.

With deep breath and settling awareness, I set about to create a place for my mission that is not predicated by fear, not paved by intention beyond love; a path that circumvents all thoughts of separation.

In doing this, in proclaiming my truth, I again dismiss fear to the outer barriers, where he waits to teach me more. And I celebrate his fire, his flame, his ability to mold me again and again into the ashes of discovery.

I know not who I be anymore than another. I know nothing more than my brother. I know only that I am called, and in so doing will no longer hide in the shadows of fear.

Because I know by faith I walk, and in this way of the child with passion, I continue forward to meet the next imagined stranger who is already friend.