When the voices came, they took on apparitions of the people she knew to be flawed in their souls, easily bought and sold.
The pressures they assaulted her senses with were unbearable and invective, and she did not know if she was gifted – or just poisoned from the oracle’s fumes.
Hell NO! She did NOT want any young and wasteful, destructively ignorant and selfish males-in-rut sniffing around her territory!
Curled up to keep warm while shivering within the shelter of a great tree’s roots, she assessed her life’s efforts and, though proud for what she had provided, allowed herself to cry for the losses incurred to her self.
Being muscle-torn injured and weakened, she gave thanks that her pups were now grown and free-ranging, for she could only at best now fend for and defend herself.
When the dirt crumbles
Out from under one’s feet
Solid ground reveals itself to be
Only transitional and temporary
As one grasps for hand holds
Demanding reliance upon self
Clinging to roots in the darkness of
Trees reaching for the sky’s wealth
One from many.
Within every confining difficulty, wiggle around to make more space and gain better traction.
The question must not be examined too closely regarding if a person deserves chances to succeed when they are vulnerable and in need.
It must be a repeatedly miindful exercise to keep enduring through stalting hardships.
Observing the others while perched upon a cliff’s ledge at distance, she mused over the riddle of recovering one’s true-born, innate sense of identity and flourishing.
Attacked within and kicked out from her birth nest prematurely, she had never had a solid “home,” and the skyways loomed too large where competition and predation seemed prevalent.
Why do I crave “grounding” when I was born with “wings?”
Too much pressure on survival.
Having an insatiable curiosity.
Hunger for expansive learning.
Ambition to grow and progress.
The concern that I will miss “right timing.”
Multilevel triangulating.
Constant reorienting.
“Sounding” for intuition’s guidance.
Insecurity – “stability” is illusory.
Still injured, I cannot just throw myself back into jobs that I could have taken on before the car accudent and just pushed through by sheer determination’s efforts.
Returning to offering healing therapies requires that I differently pace myself and offer services more strategically.
Being that I had to let go of my previous therapy client base while I figured out the scope and needs of my recovery plan, I now must identify new niches that I can serve sustainably.
And, from this last year’s experience with learning about my TBI, I know now that I can only tend to and progress on a few points of focus at any given time.
Which means that although I want to pursue more skills and certifications, I must choose my current short-term goals wisely.
Do I want to deepen and expand upon skills that I need to independently grow and flex in my own personal creativity’s expression?
(YES – Please God – YES!!!)
Or, do I shelf personal needs again to obtain more certifications to generate potential for additional income-making opportunities?
An issue is that “I’m dying here.”
My soul is starved and depleted from all of this life circumstantial hardship navigating.
In essence, do I take a kind of personal break while rebuilding my therapy business?
If I focus on nourishing my creativity while helping others, maybe I could restore my natural impetus’ energy.
And then, I might be on more solid footing to pursue further certifications?
Why is it so hard to allow myself to just take this time and invest in supporting my own needs, as well as the needs of others?
Nourishing one’s self must be included in caring for others to also promote the self’s happiness, health, and thriving stablility.
Transcendental heart resononance – booyah for that higher love – YES!!!
Short sequence.
(Dreamstate after having listened to Elderbrook’s hotel session # 34)
Carpet imagery.
Scrolling through new music, she hit play on a new video and soon froze in her tracks on the elliptical machine.
The lyrics were singing about something intimate that she had recently shared in confidence with someone else locally.
And her name was being called out over and over again in the musical overlay.
A feverish reaction took over her brain and her body broke out into a deeper sweat, as if the singer had been speaking directly to her.
What was happening here?!
What the heck could this mean?!
Her resistance suddenly pushed over the edge of its limits, she began making immediate, drastic life changes.
Scooching backwards to find solid ground.
“You hold me up when I’m falling down.”
A good way to discourage a man who is an anti-commitment “player” is to remind him that there could be accidental paternity.
“If more women closed their legs to men’s bad behavior, maybe men would better mature and not readily philander!”
It’s hard to do when false temptation is there, right in front of you.
Deleting that which “tasps.”
(Ref to Larry Niven)
One can have great fun from great distance.
By Athena Stairs and Canine Family – December 27, 2024
Vocal accompaniment by Hound, tap dancing nails and excited panting with yawn at the end by Wolf.
We hope you enjoy!
Please do not use nor reproduce without my express permissions.
Thanks!
“I AM The Uni-corn…!”
I will be reaching out to help those who are struggling to help themselves and others.
“It’s not so much the hormone drop nor the intense need to feel connection, but the act of muscles locking down around the neck’s pinched nerve that sends my body into hysterics!”
What we can create in the material world.
“There’s all of this talk about ‘Chosen Ones,’ and certainly the isolation field that I have felt around me which seems to repel stable, ‘normal life’ aligns with the descriptions – but I prefer to think I have choice in the ‘matter.'”
“It’s called mad-ness for a reason…”
“I’ve got to be.”
“So does Cassandra escape and get to be with her beloved someday?” the young girl asked her grandmother, hopefully.
“Well, I know we would want her to be able to, wouldn’t we?”
The girl nodded, earnestly.
“But we must remember,” her grandmother cautioned, “she has been enslaved for a very long time, and in those kinds of circumstances, there are very harsh realities…”
When a bird is cagebound for too long, it begins to think that there is no better way of living, and memories of freedom song in flight begin fading as if they had been only in a dream.
Candid Corvid Productions 