Kauai is like a condensed version of touchy-feely enclaves in Northern California and the Pacific Northwest. Everyone is an intuitive, and everyone has cosmic interpretations of the most mundane occurrences in your life, eight minutes into chatting with you.
I was sharing with a neighbor here a challenge I was dealing with that week, and she tied it together with a story I had told her previously, declaring that she saw “a pattern.” Touchy-feely types are always seeing patterns in my life, as well as messages from the Universe, when they know a myopic spec of my story – not only that, but when they are getting a very specific slice of that myopic spec.
By way of example, I’ll share this anecdote: In my 20s, I painted regularly. All my angries and grief and sadness went into my painting. It was a way of releasing, cleansing. An acquaintance looked at one of, or maybe a few of, my paintings and declared, “You’re depressed.” I was taken aback. I was specifically not depressed, I informed her, because I painted. What she saw on that page was what was no longer inside me.
Over the years, I have had numerous vehicles of self-expression. Writing has been a key way of chronicling my journey and releasing from inside me all the frustration, rage, sadness, and other feelings that have come up through the challenges I have faced in life, and that interfere with my being in a state of radiant bliss. When people read my writing, that’s primarily what they see – the stuff I have released.
What interests me is that many or most people don’t get that. They judge me by what they see, as if that snapshot of my life is the sum total of who I am, as if it defines me. They are, in effect, sloppy journalists, not asking what’s behind or what’s around what they see, or what does it mean, or where exactly does it fit in the greater context of my life.
A friend of mine recently commented that only a few people are willing or able to do the soul journey of truly diving into things and engaging with them and expressing them. What that means is that there are a whole hell of a lot of people who don’t know how to cope with “difficult” emotions, who bolt from those emotions, who judge those emotions, who judge the people who have those emotions, who get stuck in those emotions if engaging in them, and who judge others from that general take on matters.
I make a living as a public relations (PR) manager. Everything in PR comes down to spin. Similarly I can “spin” things in my life in many different ways. But I don’t. I am deliberately, consciously raw. I say exactly what I’m feeling, when I’m feeling it, without “spinning” it. It is just what it is, a snapshot in time.
The anguish that I experience and express, however, is part of an extraordinary life filled with magic, power, freedom, glory, serendipity, and pure bliss. But I’m not here to explain that to others. I am here to do what I need to do, to say what I need to say, to shine the light on what I need to shine it on, for myself, to unfold what I need to unfold, to release what I need to release.
People may understand or not understand; they may condemn me or they may appreciate me; they may benefit from my writing or think it’s a ball of hooey. That’s really not my business. I release to the Universe because my Soul is communicating with the Divine, and magic happens when I am authentic and raw and throw it all out into the world.
That said, while I can share traumatic events with relative ease, I notice that extraordinary magic, blessings, and miracles have felt very private to me, and I share them infrequently. Maybe part of why I do that is that people will typically give me accolades for sharing the “good” stuff, and they will see me in this positive light, but they will typically condemn me for the “bad” stuff and tell me that I’m attracting all this stuff to my life, that I have bad karma, and that I am basically an idiot and fuckup and that my life is all wrong.
Bring it. If you don’t love the warrior, you don’t get the lover. It’s a screening device of sorts.
When I lived in LA, people would cruise a party, talking to people for three minutes, to suss out if that person could be of use. If yes, they would talk longer, exchange business cards, and so forth. If no, they would move on. By then, I had published in top media worldwide – Rolling Stone, The Washington Post, Marie Claire, CNN, Seventeen, BBC News, Self, you name it. When someone at an LA party asked what I did, I said, “I’m a writer.” When they asked if I had published my writing, I said “Yes.” When they asked where, I said, “Oh, you know, anywhere that pays me. I’m a publishing slut.” Invariably they lost interest and moved on to find someone more useful – to my perpetual amusement.
I find it extremely annoying when I share a miraculous event in my life, and someone judges it with a cosmic pronouncement that it means such-and-such – exactly as they respond to a traumatic event, but in the reverse. I think I find it far more annoying when someone makes a judgement about a miraculous event, which feels like a communion between me and the Divine, than when someone makes a judgement about a traumatic event. I guess I don’t want outsiders sullying the magic or something.
I also don’t want fake people with superficial overtures of friendship and connection. I’d rather dress in rags and have someone treat me like dirt than dress in splendor and have someone want to be my friend.
But I also really want to write more about the visions and miracles and serendipity and blessings I have experienced in my life. I guess I need to release and disengage from people’s responses all around, so that I have total freedom to share my story with the Universe. On that note, as much as on the one hand I think it’s important to hold complexities and love people for who they are, I also think it’s important for me to oust from my real life and social media life those who make superficial pronouncements and judgements, instead of listening to my heart and getting to know my soul.