Author: Candid Corvid Productions

Ten years ago, we officially divorced, and the other day, we agreed we’ve reached nuetral.

May our souls rest in peace.

Amen.

She could feel more children waiting to be born, and as her belly began to swell over time, aching in their absence, she began giving up the search for their father.

“She’s so ‘relatable!'”

(It’s a good thing…)

Today at a carnival, I drew the card of The Queen, and I thought, “Where is my King?”

The lovely reader helped me understand that a queen does not seek, but greatness seeks her.

But, I am too restless to sit on a throne and be waited upon.

I carry greatness within me wherever I go – and good luck, I guess, to my King trying to find me.

I am out in tbe world helping people and chasing sunrayed moonbeams.

I have a hard time thinking that I am beautiful.

I know that I am: I have a fierce independence masked by fragile innocence.

An interesting combination over which I could chase my tail forever trying to reconcile.

I instinctively shed superimposed expectations to where I am surprised at times by my own candidness.

And I could spend a lifetime trying to understand this.

In all of my birthchart, I have fire, air, and water, but I do not think that I have any earth.

Maybe that is one reason I love it so much: it is the one thing that I need and so I yearn.

The new norm and max that I intend in helping.

Not everyone fully understands the concept. For most of us were born with the need, yet, many have been denied.

I realize now that what I was driven by other forces to become back then was not the true me.

I was held captive – enslaved by dependency.

By autonomy, I have been able to dissolve the webs of deceit that kept blinding.

As I sorted through the items today, I wondered what causes me to still live like this.

It is startling to see how much trash accumulates from day-to-day functioning in transit.

I am usually going from one event to another in my car, drinking and eating along the way.

When I come home at night, I am too tired and it is too cold for me to want to sort anything.

So on trash day (if I did not miss it for the week, lol), I am out there digging through various bags to separate trash from recycling.

Do I need to judge against myself for this?

I sometimes feel as if I live like a gypsy.

It often happens after sundown, and most especially after I have worked out.

I guess I am just concentrating all day, holding myself together to maintain a path for self and to provide for others.

The vacancy of my energy leaves me bereft and lonely.

Shoulder aching like a beast, I rise to the challenge and seek out authentic connections and networking opportunities. With every sucessful interaction, we are creating and strengthening rainbow skeins of lightworking.

I had planned to slow my pace for more balance, but it has again ramped up. The difference is that I decide when I’m flapping or gliding.

She was startled to realize how powerful her energy was becoming and could feel her heart’s yearning tapping into the earth’s matrix, seeking to align with and call forth her partner’s.

As she held the pendulum with her left hand, fingers poised downward, she centered it over her open upward right palm, leveled near her heart.

Making sure she was not moving the swinging point with her wrist, she became aware of the energy field pushing out from her chest.

Surprised at how well she could feel this, she began concentrating on intending the field to move in different directions.

After she brought to tool closer to where she could feel it was inside the field’s boundary, the crystal began to move in directions of her intention’s swirling.

Restarting off on my own, and facing the heavy.

If I don’t feed it, will it in turn learn to ignore me?

They say it needs a new master cylinder and also a new clutch, etc. I think they ought to just bleed the air bubble out and that go-car will still fake it.

They say she needs a new clutch and a whole new front suspension with new boot to replace the one ripped open, now exposing a tie rod.

They also say that she needs a new starter, a front light shakes loose, turning off (until I thump it) with and that rear oxygen sensor.

I laugh at how the odds keep stacking against me and reflect upon how we always succeed by luck’s whimmed magic.

Meanwhile, I am still paying for the refurbished head gaskets.

The elder peer mentor spoke of how she always knew that she was meant to be independent: no kids or husband were in her life’s planning.

All I could think besides amazement and being impressed by her self contentment with this was, “Please don’t let this be my destiny.”

The dream had mocked me, endlessly touting initials to let me know that I was not wanted.

When I woke up, I was so upset-flustered that in my head was playing Richard Marx’s “Should’ve Known Better (Than To Fall In Love With You)” over and over.

But then, as I was later getting ready for work, I heard another song begin to overlay it, and it felt like him sending me reassurance: “”(I’m Only) One Call Away” by Charlie Puth.

Family scattered like leaves on the wind,
I’m surprised to find where begin again.

Grateful to find home away from home,
Not sure I would leave or how I’d roam –

Though my heart is called by a lover
Who speaks riddles across expanse.

S

Creating meaningful connection in relationships for mutual beneficience.

Going to a social situation to network, and upon entering, feeling in the room that nobody cares or is interested in me. They are ascribing to the old clique paradigm and do not see me as their target market. Not my venue for collaborating.

A place to begin again, like a tadpole learning how to crawl onto land.

Hearing how exhausted I have felt lately, a peer suggested that I not put so much energy into helping my clients at work.

But, does an actor withhold their emotions when the camera zooms in for their lines?

Does an athlete not give 120% – without any compromise?

Though I understand the concept of having energy conserved for my rest, what would I retract in service where could still say was “my best?”

Woe to the male who does not honor nor support a mother’s need to protect and nourish her offspring!

And grief for the she-wolf whose mate does not understand nor accept her varied complexity!

I do not like this word because of the old shaming paradigm that has been associated with it.

If we “need to” diet, it’s because we are “not good enough,” our weight is “not socially acceptable,” we are “therefore unattractive,” and we are “therefore unloveable” and “unwanted.”

A childhood friend of mine remembers the castigating criticism that the adults in my life used to rain down on me at every chance.

Apparently, I was overweight in their books, but seeing in more recent years how my body has responded to stress, it makes sense to me now why I would have gained weight.

I was in an environment that my body perceived as a war zone from abuse directly or indirectly being fired at me. It needed to thicken up to protect me so that I could feel like I had armor.

How often in life have we heard the chiding remark “you need to get a thicker skin” when people say or do something harmful to us?

I remember a good reason for staying with my husband was because our construct of marriage gave me superficial support within which I could cultivate in life the sense that I was free from abuse.

I had room to reidentify myself and name what was important to me. Our contract provided a forum for me to feel relatively “safe,” and as a result, I did not have an issue with my weight.

But once the marriage ended, I was thrust back out into the world on my own again as “an open target” – especially once my family lost stabile housing. Those chemicals released back into my body as part of my self-defense mechanism.

Being independent requires redefining the self according to one’s core life philosophy, rather than succumbing to the effects of imposed fear and cultural identity shaming.

I like the word “modifying” – or even better, the concept that I am “adjusting” to my new life so that I can embrace “thriving.”

It is creamy-dreamy without overbearing flavor or bite of sharp mint. Pleasantly mellow!

Today, sans Starbucks and onto my second night of fasting.

Did you know that a cup of heavy cream is 800 calories? And not letting one’s stomach rest on empty can likely csause weight retaining.

We will see how addressing these two things affects my metabolism. I wonder how long it will take before I experience it responding.

While others ascribe to glory, I aspire for belonging in my own heart and mind.

One cannot always count on others for acceptance and approval.