A flow of riches!
And I no longer have to experience pain for the wealth, which is bizarre after over a year of lactational amenorrhea, its the 4th month that I have had a clean blade, smoothly unscarred lady-like hands (well, they would be if I gardened with gloves like civilized folk) and a nice secure supply for ritual.
Courage. That’s what I’m grinding out with Belial. At first it was teaching through pain; moving through it toward my lofty goals.
Now, the focus has shifted to rising above it; transmuting fear into its opposite. A blade tearing my palm or fingertips was only a drop or twenty as necessary, but weekly it meant for a lot of cuts.
With the resumption of menses, however, I have a nice guaranteed supply of 3 ounces monthly. And for my purposes, its been a phenomenal difference. It clicked a few days ago that my auto-hypnosis of “I am safe in XXX circumstance” is bullshit for me because I don’t WANT to be safe. I don’t give a rat’s ass about safety, never have. I want competence and mastery, so courage, rather than safety. (I feel like a fool for not seeing that earlier, since my prior paradigm was more white-lighty in philosophy and practice that I actually believed, but it was the closest that meshed with my experience so far. Had to shed it.) And the things that I find delightful are that with each successive child I’ve grown, my appreciation for my evolution as a woman has increased. I used to view menses as a continual reminder that I was incompetent (focusing difficulties with stabbing or throbbing pain), dirty (that offensive smell, you know), and burdened like the rest of the female sex - sisterhood Yay. But, no more. Now, its a cycle and I can plan each stage of my personal alchemy into the insane human I truly want to observe. Imagine - a vast array of choices and the lifeblood to offer the entity of my choosing when I delegate my tasks. I got to smile at the recollection of an earlier poster talking about Satanchia bargaining for an ounce of blood. I’ve got it in spades at least 12x yearly. And now that I look forward to it with no stress, resentment, symbolic fears…there’s no pain of any kind, and its regular like la luna.
The last offering I made was different (I deliberately forgot the precise scenario I desire, only that it involves recognizing the wealth in my life and freely blossoming more). The ounce I placed in my dedicated vessel, rather than mortifying, crystallized like a fine crust on the most delicately prepared creme brulee. The rest was a compact powder.
I still use mind altering tools to quell the continual anxiety from my childhood conditioning that the world is an evil battleground of temptations, plus being born as a sinner. But, not to dull the emotional perceptions, instead its to force change. Not to cope with a chaotic day, but to slow down and recognize that XXX event is functioning as a mere symbolic threat rather than an actual one; the only conflict is within my mind and I control that. When my son tells me he wants to have a new mom, instead of terror that he doesn’t love me (abandonment/separation), rage (ungrateful, rude child - must squash defiance), I’m recognizing that my children are my friends; allies, not enemies. And that allows for the extension of grace (unmerited favor) toward someone who tells me that he has eliminated parsnips, turnips, fish, and slimy textures from his preferred palate. And I can prepare for (yet another) negotiation rather than devolving into arguments, tears of pissed-offed-ness, hurt widdle feewings, etc.
I have never encountered tougher clients EVER! And I want to keep their accounts, so my technical support has to extend at least a decade, probably two. So, that means peaceful conflict resolution skills, non-escalating language (shedding terms/phrases like: no, don’t, never, not, you need to, you should, etc.). And that means courage to face the same bullshit with compassion and grace, to constantly recall that I am on call TWENTY FOUR FUCKING HOURS A DAY. That I have NO RIGHT OR ENTITLEMENT to a) a good night’s sleep b) consistent meals c) gratitude …and on and on from my progeny. All are privileges and are earned only with diligence, patience, perseverance, love, joy, peace, kindness, goodness, gentleness, and mother-fucking-self-control. The more I relax around them and guide authoritatively (I know my shit because I’ve been there, not “respect my AuthoritY”), the more autonomy and responsibility I can extend because the small humans perceive themselves as competent, creative, and courageous. And they never have to fear ‘getting in trouble.’ Even stupid shit like snitching dessert for shits and giggles, I’ve emphasized that above all, they hook up their siblings/best friends, as well as not getting caught. Blood is thicker than water.
Hardest damned job I’ve ever done and that includes working in the fields in 100 plus degree weather 10 hours a day. All whining is taught by example or needs unmet. I still want a fucking clone or two, but the light is ever brightening at the end of the tunnel.
