Down the Rabbithole
Feeling frustrated this morning…5:55 AM. 25 minutes until I need to get in the shower and get ready for work. I feel my thoughts begin their pessimistic self-sabotage cycle and try to intervene. Rosie is particularly fired up this morning. “You never have enough time to do what you want to do. You’re always doing what everyone else wants you to. Why can’t you just do what you want and everyone else can worry about themselves?”
Wow, writing all that out, realizing this is what my brain is telling me, and I’m just letting Rosie/my ego drive the ship and wreak havoc on my emotions. I do have enough time for myself—even if it doesn’t feel like it. Not drinking and finding this passion again, almost like making up for lost time.
Trying to explain to Tyler all the thoughts running through my head, him patiently trying to understand but I can see in his eyes he doesn’t. When I’m not drinking there is magic everywhere I look. And the more I look, the more synchronicities I see that leave me in awe and so excited to learn more.
They might seem like mundane coincidences to anyone else, but to me it’s reassurance. Maybe I am crazy but I don’t care. My therapist tells me I don’t need a psychiatrist, and I don’t think I do either. I’m just trying to reconcile who I am, sober.
I can be normal. I can work an 8-5 job that I really don’t like, come home, drink, watch TV for a few hours until it’s time for bed, and get up to repeat the same cycle every day. The only way I can do this is to drink, but apparently my liver isn’t happy with me, as evidenced by a call from my primary doctor’s nurse yesterday. Repeat lab in 3 months. I’m not worried because they weren’t elevated 2-3x over, just slightly, but still, I guess I kind of need my liver to you know, live. So yeah, I can be normal, but it means anesthetizing my soul while manifesting physical symptoms of addiction.
Or I can be sober with my head in the clouds, tumbling down this rabbithole. Everywhere I look I see signs and glimpses. Talking with Tyler last night, him patiently trying to explain to me that it’s good that I’ve found that passion again, but needing to balance learning and creating with living life. I know he has a point, but if it means working a job that I’m not passionate about to buy stuff that I don’t really care about to impress people that I don’t think about, I’m not interested. I can and will work to support my boys, pay my bills, but I will trust in the Universe that everything will work out. I know I’m being obstinate but once you’ve peeked outside Plato’s cave and realized there’s a whole other world out there, how do you go back to being content with sitting and watching shadows on the wall?
I listen to what people I care about say to me. I deliberately tell Rosie to sit down and be quiet for a minute, and try to think about it from an outsider’s perspective, weighing their insights and advice in my heart to see if it resonates in my soul. Sometimes I don’t want it to, but it does. So when Tyler tells me everything in moderation, to not get lost in the clouds, to not be greedy and lose sight of everything else, I realize he’s right. And that he reminds me of what the woman told me in my daydream.
I go to show him that he almost literally said verbatim what I wrote, and as he reads the blog post, something catches my eye. She told me to research on my own what the seven dwarfs represent. After I journaled, I shrugged that off, thinking there’s no way the seven dwarfs represent anything. Yet I Google “spiritual meaning of the seven dwarfs” and I’m so blown away by what I find.
The seven dwarfs represent the seven planes of consciousness that ancient philosophers believed to exist in the universe as well as inside each person. These planes correspond to the physical realm (body, sensations, emotions and concrete mind) and spiritual realm (pure mind, intuition, will).
There is magic everywhere, absolutely everywhere, if only we open our eyes. To further illustrate, I asked Louise Edington to do an astrology reading for me. She was my beacon during my spiritual awakening, her podcast and reading giving me hope and direction when I honestly thought I was losing my mind. I took her Venus Retrograde class the summer of 2018, but I wasn’t ready to deal with my past and fears yet. How ironic here we are, headed into another Venus Retrograde, and I’m once again signed up for her class and having her do my reading.
She mentions Hekate being opposite the point of some planets lined up in a “finger of fate” shape, indicating my purpose in life. Every word she says resonates and I am so blown away. Chiron, Hekate, this is why I’m so drawn to these mythologies. As above, so below. But that’s a whole other tangent. They’re in my chart, and it explains why I’ve always been irresistibly drawn to Hekate. Whenever I’ve prayed since 2018, it’s been to God, my ancestors, and Hekate. After I finish up my appointment, I drive home, lost in thought until a song on the car radio catches my attention. Dua Lipa’s Levitating. I didn’t even know the name of the song, but it’s catchy, even though I can hardly catch what she’s singing about.
Later that night, I’m writing in my journal and I Google Hekate and somehow this article pops up. I push play on the video out of curiosity and about fell over when the same song plays again, the symbol for Hekate everywhere in the video.
How do you go back to pretending it’s not there? The nervous hum under my skin I so desperately tried to anesthetize? It was my soul calling me home, my inner child pulling on my sleeve, reminding me it’s okay to dream and play. That it’s okay to regain my “muchness”…