It’s 4:00 a.m. again, time to write. Only this time I’m actually going to do it.
I’m a writer and, as it turns out, writers write. Writers write, that is, when they actually choose to heed the call. Either then or when there’s just no more room inside. It’s true. Eventually, it all builds up until something has to be released. Sounds a lot like another experience in Life, doesn’t it? Oh, the metaphors.
I’ve had articles moving toward climax in me for years. This morning I’m choosing to surrender, let go. An orgasm on paper. Let’s see what comes of it.
In my life, particularly in the last seven years (but before then as well), I tend to move forward based on guidance, dreams and synchronicities. Prayer’s in there, too, but I chose not to include it in the title of this article because I thought some people who (with good reason) have an aversion to all things religious-sounding might choose not to read the article if they thought it had anything to do with dogma, rules, guilt and, frankly, boredom.
It doesn’t. It’s just what wants to come through me at this moment in time. And after an hour in bed choosing to resist it, someone (maybe me) lit a fire under my ass after all and, well, here I am.
Some people would say, “Just live.” Hell, I say that. In fact, paradoxically, it comes full circle to just exactly that. The thing is—there’s a difference between living (if we can call it that) by default and actually LIVING. Let me see if I can explain:
So life is happening, and there’s all this so-called living going on (based on rules, roles, expectations, dogma, culture, family, society; mostly unconscious, kind of a lost in a whirlwind-type experience; ya-da-ya-da-ya-da). Then a piano falls on your head, crushes you and your entire life to pieces . . . you don’t know what hit you . . . why me? . . . I’d rather die . . . blah, blah, blah . . . aaaaaand a whole bunch of dying goes on. Right about here, it’s highly likely, regardless of your beliefs, that you’ll surrender and you’ll pray (this may have happened earlier, namely as the trigger for The Force that actually pushed the piano over the ledge and onto your head, but let’s not get caught up in petty details). Next thing you know, you realize you’re still alive and you might go something like, “What the fuck?” So, living’s happening again. But something’s up. You’re not even sure what it is, you just know that you’re gonna go about things differently this time. Re-enter: Prayer and Surrender, Surrender and Prayer . . . it’s like the chicken and the egg thing—I’m not even sure which comes first but bachity-bach-bach-bach, I don’t think it matters.
I live in Georgia now. Never saw that one coming (well, until I did). People ask what brought me here, and I respond, “It’s a long story but here’s the short, okay medium, version—guidance, dreams and synchronicities.” I say this often enough—and the related experiences I’ve had to each of these things in my life have happened enough—that I think it’s time to share them. And really it doesn’t even matter if I think it’s time. Life says it’s time and that’s that (So, I’m pretty sure this may be the first in a series of blogs describing my guidance, dreams and synchronicities).
I believe we’re here to wake each other up, to splash cold water in each other’s faces, to shock and to shake. I, for one, yet again, have been pressing that snooze button for way too long. And self-pleasuring is wonderful but never as a way of replacing what really wants to be released. Recently, a friend of mine asked me what lights me up. Another asked what turns me on. I LOVE these questions! When I shared, to the best of my ability, my answer, my friend exclaimed, “What about ‘Verbal Tantra’?!” So, this morning, my friends, that’s what we have, a little Verbal Tantra. Thanks, Myrrh. Nothing excites me more than allowing Life to express Itself through me in all kinds of glorious ways! One of my favorites is words, especially in the form of poetry. I also revel in inviting words to form around what it feels like to do this life thing from the perspective of this body, this mind, this spirit, this Soul, this woman, this Being. And I’ve not been honoring sharing in the form of these articles that are dying to be born (literally dying inside of me as they wait to be birthed). I’ve kinda been hiding behind the poetry. And it’s time to come out of the metaphorical closet.
Soooooo, back to the article: Guidance, Dreams and Synchronicities. Yes, I feel very compelled to share my most recent encounter with this—let’s call it a—phenomenon. This may or may not lead me to share past rendezvous with my Soul: we’ll see how tired my fingers get before completion but I have a feeling those stories are for another day!
Presently, I am working at a job for which I’m grateful and for which I can’t leave soon enough (in my experience, gratitude and discontent can and do coexist). As guided as I was to my current position (for all kinds of reasons), I feel just as guided to leave. I have for quite a while. Have you heard the quote, “People don’t change until the pain of changing becomes less than the pain of staying the same”? I’m not even sure who said that, and it appears Google doesn’t know either, but it’s a goodie—one of my favorites. It has proven to be true in my life time and time again. I’m not sure why but resistance seems to be one of my favorite past-times. Anyway, I’ve been putting off leaving for many reasons, all of them based in fear. Now I know better than to live from a place of fear—I’ve jumped off many a cliff already in this lifetime. Still, I chose to stay stuck in it for quite a while. When I’m in the muck like this, my Soul always seems to kick in, almost in spite of me (although I do start to get a vibe that dreams and guidance are on the way, and I root for them as much as against them). It seems contradictory and like a paradox that even when I’m resisting, there’s a part of me that’s surrendered but this is how it happens in my case. Whether my symbolic dreams are able to kick in for this reason or they come of their own accord is beyond me but they come nonetheless. And boy am I glad!
As always, The Dream showed up at the right and perfect time. Here’s what happened as I slept:
I came out the door after work one day and could not find my car. After searching for a bit I thought I saw it shoved into the middle of the street. As it turns out, it wasn’t my car but the car of a male friend I’d been hanging out with at the time. He was in the car so I told him I couldn’t find my car, hoping he would assist me. He drove away, unwilling to help (btw, this same friend has discouraged me at times from leaving my current job). Not sure what to do, I continued to look around. There were many parking lots all around me. As time went on, I began to get the eerie feeling that my car had been stolen.
A lovely tea shop with delicious frozen teas, music and dancing kept randomly popping in and out of my dream. I was able to enter it sporadically, taking breaks from searching for my vehicle. But I could never partake of the deliciousness because I hadn’t yet found my car. During one stop inside the shop, I witnessed three female police officers dressed in lay attire informing a young man that it was a better idea to handle a disagreement with a dance-off rather than a fist fight. I left the shop again and resumed my search. In the meantime, my male friend drove by, this time going very fast. I waved frantically, begging him for help, but to no avail. The tea shop reappeared, along with the three female officers. I was so impressed with their advice to the young man that I asked for their assistance in locating my car. They came into the parking lot with me. I looked around and was certain I spotted the old blue Corolla. I became so excited but this was short-lived because my ride was blocked by a car full of “bad guys.” Again, I asked the “law” for help. We began approaching the car together but as we got closer I realized it wasn’t my car after all. I informed the officers of this and as we walked away, I fully realized and accepted that my car had been stolen. I officially reported this to the three female officers, and they responded, “We can only help you so much. You have to do the rest on your own.”
As is always the case for me after a dream that I am certain is very symbolic and contains guidance for the next steps on my journey, I woke up and immediately wrote down everything I could remember. Every ounce of me knew this dream was speaking to me as during times of struggle, Life always comes through and has my back—very, very often in the form of dreams. As I finished the documentation, I looked at my male friend sleeping peacefully next to me and knew in that moment that everything had changed.
My interpretation of the dream probably seems pretty obvious but essentially came down to this at the time: It is time to leave my job but my fear of not having a means to do so and my failure to take action around ways of doing so are in my way. Also, it is time for the form of the current relationship with my friend to change as it (he in the dream) is not helping me get anywhere. Even though I am enjoying certain aspects of this relationship, its current form is getting in my way. Too, listening to naysayer comments (my friend discouraging me from leaving my job) from others when we know something is right for us can hold us back. Also, a friend of mine (thank you, Rita) added this wonderful piece—the three female officers represent the Universal Laws.
A poem I had written several weeks prior to any of this, called “Jaded,” will appear at the end of this article. Guidance and poetry seem to go hand in hand for me. I often say it this way, “I’m not sure if I’m writing the poems or the poems are writing me.”
A week or so after this dream, I spent over a month with my two gorgeous children [to whom I am currently a long-distance (physically) mother the majority of the time] and their father. Most of this time was spent with my son but I was fortunate to have quality time with my daughter as well. She even got to visit me in Georgia for the first time! This was an enormous treat! On the day they all headed back to Pennsylvania (where we are from), I experienced a huge emptiness and a deep sense of grief. I even developed bronchitis as a physical manifestation of grief (lungs) and “inflamed family environment” (based on Louise Hay’s work). Some would say, “Well, follow them back to PA then” but for me this isn’t how Life works. I follow the voice of my Soul to the best of my ability. This is Joyful and yet it does not make me immune to unpleasant feelings that sometimes show up because of where Life leads me.
So, two blessings occurred for me on the day my family headed back to Pennsylvania, and they both related to my guidance and my dream. To this day, they continue to be validated by synchronicities, like these two recent quotes by Caroline Myss that came across my Facebook newsfeed at the right and perfect time:
“If you want your situation to change, then set change in motion. If you want to improve your health, then set that intention. Work with the laws of the universe.” (I had already had my dream).
“My prayer on this day is that I receive the graces of hope and fortitude during this time in my life. Help me to make it through those moments when I feel like giving up. Hover over me, God, with guidance through my thoughts and through my dreams.” (In spite of excitement around forward movement, a renewed sense of purpose and children who are thriving even amidst upheaval, I have felt physically and emotionally drained these past few weeks related mostly to living apart from my children and what shows up for each of us as a result of this).
The first blessing that occurred on the day my family left was that I knew I didn’t make the extremely difficult and painful choice to mother my children from afar only to stay in a job that is absolutely no longer right for me. The second was that something occurred in the life of my male friend that has completely changed the form of our friendship to where we almost never see or talk with each other. Both of these Blessings motivated me to take action, and I’ve been flowing with The River ever since. In addition to moving me to take action, these two revelations/occurrences have forced me to feel my feelings once and for all, something I believe is enormously important and so often over-looked in what, to this point, has been our masculine-energy dominated world.
That same week, I wrote two questions in my journal before going to bed:
- What do I need to know?
- What is my next step?
Conveniently, answers showed up on my day off. For guidance and consolation, I kept picking up a book I have at my bedside, A Mother Apart: How To Release Guilt and Find Happiness While Living Apart from Your Child by Sarah Hart (a wonderful book!). Each page I randomly turned to contained exactly what I needed to hear with what was showing up for me. Too, without trying I kept meeting other mothers who live and/or have lived apart from their children for all kinds of reasons. While this book was certainly lending me comfort on a personal level, it did something else for me as well—namely, it highlighted my passion around this particular issue (mothers who live apart from their children) and around all women’s issues. My clear, convicted Soul Voice said to me, “I wonder if there are any Women’s Studies programs in Savannah?” And then, to my delight, my clear, convicted Soul voice answered itself and said, “Armstrong.”
Well, my conscious mind had no knowledge of this. Since I’ve learned there’s more to me than my conscious mind, right away I Googled “Women’s Studies programs in Savannah.” And guess what popped up—“Armstrong”! Turns out it’s the only one . . .
I call and leave a message. I feel so alive again. In following Aliveness, I decide to shower and head to the campus to see what it feels like. On the way there, I say to myself, “I have a feeling the program coordinator is going to call me back just as soon as I get to the campus.” Sure enough, as I sit at a red light a block from campus, feeling ignited about being a positive force for good (for mine and my children’s sakes and for all of Life’s sake) around a widely misunderstood issue (that of mothers who live apart from their children), I receive a call back from the program coordinator. She’s not normally in the office on Fridays but yes she’s there and I can come and meet with her. I hang up the phone full of relief, joy, excitement, anticipation and a sense of adventure. I look at the car ahead of me with a sticker that reads, “Armstrong Mom.” And I know just exactly what those words mean to me.
“I feel jaded.”
I spoke those words,
and then I looked up the definition:
jaded—adj. tired, bored or lacking enthusiasm,
typically after having had too much of something;
the end result of having a steady flow of negative
experiences, disappointments and unfulfillment
That’s exactly how I feel.
I jumped off a cliff . . .
You weren’t kidding when you said
‘no guarantees,’ were ya?”
How did I end up in a space
where I’m waving at Vitality
like She’s leaving
on an outbound train,
where I’m asked questions like,
“Where did that spark go?
That’s an attractive quality in you,
and it seems to have gone away.”
Do I tell them the truth? Do I say,
“She faded as I became too
comfortable in a life that’s
not my size. She dimmed
as I settled for less, sold
myself out and slammed
the door on my Soul.”?
Do I admit,
“I stand here before you
as a servant, not a server.
I have, once again, become a
slave to fear.
And so I serve
a tainted dish,
a glass of poison,
on a platter called
‘Living a Lie’”?
I’m here to serve, yes,
but Life wants to
through me—and I can tell ya,
it doesn’t consist of sweet tea
with a splash of un and a sandwich
cut into fours,
no matter how
they may be.
Do I tell you that I
stand lifeless before you
because I am choosing
to insult my Soul,
to dishonor, dismiss and
to shiver and quiver in
yet another leap?
I didn’t realize that when
I jumped off of one cliff
I’d land on
Until “Jaded” paid
me a visit
and drug me to the edge.
She was clever about it
when she said,
“Stay here with me where
it is safe and
Numb your pain with
Give me your power,
and I’ll take care of you.
We’ll be one, big, happy family,
and we’ll get through this together.”
She made it look and sound
and she even held me
upside down over
the edge to give
me a taste of the
She was dressed in Angel’s
but little did she know
that as she spoke
those tiny red horns
and I saw her for
who she really was.
and now it is
Jaded to whom I’m waving
as I board that outbound train.
Turns out Vitality is coming with me.
You’re gonna have to tie yourself
to someone else’s apron strings,
you sneaky little devil you.
‘Cuz I’m hanging it up
and without me, you die, too.
Thank You, Jaded,
for paying me a visit
so that I might
choose to leave a
that is not serving.
In this way, you
have served me well.
From Book of Life: Poems for the Journey
by Humaira/Amy Adams,
to be released in 2015
P.S. I gave my notice for the end of December and will begin my studies in January. Bring it, Life! I Love You.
P.P.S. I just finished this article at the Armstrong State library after visiting Admissions and Financial Aid. Also after a mid-afternoon game of phone Yahtzee–played from the gorgeous fountain in the middle of this beautiful campus—with my son who was home sick from school today.
It’s All Good.
Ahhhhhhhhhh . . . was it as good for you as it was for me?