Teenage Beliefs

Continuing on with "The Great Work" by Tiffany Lazic, today's question is:

What messages about the world do you remember believing as a child or teenager?

I had an enduring belief that I would one day find my people, my tribe, and that we'd have this wonderful pagan community of love and support. That we'd celebrate the seasons together, that we'd be truly present for one another in times of grief and joy. I thought I just had to find them.

I had an unshakable belief that that people of other countries and cultures didn't have the same problems and awfulness  that we did in the USA. I felt that other countries -- despite hearing about their own wars and genocide -- didn't have the selfishness and pettiness that I found so prevalent in my own country. I thought that all these beautiful places outside our borders just had shit figured out, and that we were behind the curve on civil liberties and cultural progressiveness. Some part of me believed that if I could just move to England/Peru/Croatia/Kiribati/wherever, I could live happily and celebrate local cultures in peace because everyone else was just better than us. 

I also remember believing that there was hope and possibility everywhere. It sounds a little strange now, but I remember believing that there was nothing on earth I couldn't do if I'd put my mind to it. Watching dancers or hearing incredible singers, watching master craftspeople working their art, etc... I believed firmly that all of these possibilities were also open to me, that I could be a blacksmith or glass blower or acrobat if I really wanted to. The world of possibility was vast and ever-expanding. 

I don't think what happened between then and now has anything to do with those possibilities contracting in any way, but more with me losing the energy needed to pursue those things. Sure, now that I'm older I don't think that I'll ever be an opera singer or ballerina, but other things -- things that I still love and am interested in -- are still within the realm of possibility for me to take up as a hobby, especially now that I'm getting the help I need for medical issues and my energy is coming back.

There's another message about the world my teenage self believed that I'm having a hard time putting words to but that shaped so, so much of the obstacles I'm learning to overcome now in my 30s. I was self-conscious about everything, and deeply concerned that everything I did was viewable (and judged) by all. I received messages about the world that I was both insignificant but scrutinized, that I was generally unwanted or begrudgingly accepted in groups but that my actions and words were analyzed for flaws. It's a strange mindset that I was (repeatedly) told was self-centered and wrong, but without any nurturing of the good parts of my mindset I ended up feeling that everything I did and thought was wrong somehow -- and I was powerless to change it. That is, that some souls are born as toads and don't you DARE try to aspire to be anything else.
 
I received conflicting messages that I had to succeed academically and financially, but that if I DID succeed, I was being a snob and thought I was better than other people. My teenage years (and subsequently, my early 20s) were filled with no-win situations where I was supposed to achieve and accomplish great things, but if for a moment I took pride in those accomplishments, I was arrogant and big-headed. So I ended up in a terrible loop of over-achieving and being depressed about it because it was simultaneously not enough but also too much. I was a mess. I was deeply afraid to pursue things I desperately wanted to do because I felt that my successes or failures in those arenas would be somehow more painful. I wanted to keep the little flame of interest protected and safe, and in the process managed to smother them.
 
I'm still working through a lot of those self-reinforced ideas. I still run into problems where people I care about treat my successes as personal attacks to their lives, or act as though my accomplishments make me vain and arrogant. I'm still afraid to celebrate my hard work and find myself believing that the rewards for my toil are pure chance, that I'm just lucky. It's an insidiously difficult mindset to break, but I'm slowly chipping away at it and no longer allowing those people to influence/manipulate the way I view myself and my life.

***

Holy crow, that dug up some painful things. I guess that's the point, but I really wasn't prepared for where that took me. 

In Which There is a New Project and Grumpiness

I'm starting The Great Work by Tiffany Lazic today. I've read the primer and chose to skip through to the part of the year where I'm at instead of reading each seasonal section sequentially, starting at Yule  -- I'm not a fan of the idea that you have to wait until a new year to begin your efforts, because life happens and the wheel keeps turning. Started near Ostara? Pick up in freaking Ostara. Make it relevant to now instead of reading it academically.

It's actually pretty awesome.

Honestly, I'm too tired to throw more words at that. If I'm being really honest, I feel like I shouldn't be writing at all because it's early and I'm still fuzzy-headed and grumpy. But the point behind all of this -- the reason I bought this book, the reason I'm digging deeper -- is because there is rarely a perfect time for anything. It's the willpower and the drive to do the thing a more motivated you committed to doing. My willpower when purchasing the book was that sort of glowing gold radiance you feel deep inside your chest that makes you feel like yes, of course! This is the book for me! The idea of aligning my thoughts and meditations with the wheel of the year matches everything I've been looking for!

It's the same radiant enthusiasm that one discovers within themselves while, say, standing in a health and nutrition store listening to the very fit salesperson talk about how their life changed when they took CHARGE and suddenly you're deciding that NOW IS THE TIME TO BE HEALTHY!! and buy all the things that ultimately taste like chalk and make you crave a hamburger. Of course that enthusiasm doesn't always last. That's the point. There's a billion dollar industry based around it, but that doesn't reduce the purity of the feeling. Sometimes your willpower is like a sad carrot in the vegetable drawer in your fridge. Maybe it's a little grubby and not as crisp as the day you bought it. Doesn't mean it's not a carrot, though.

Perhaps the analogy got away from me there at the end. I'm tired.

Without further ado, here's the personal reflection for March 15th: What dreams for your life did you have as a child or teenager?

This one is a little weird for me, because I didn't have career dreams as a teenager. My dreams were mostly just being one with nature and doing yoga and drinking tea. I dreamed of having a group of people who felt similarly, and had this strange longing for a place I'd never been. I just wanted to garden and walk in the forest and do witchery all the time.

I often thought about how once I was out on my own, I'd take up belly dance and rock climbing and aerial silks, how I'd dance when I wanted to and go hiking or swimming any time the mood struck.

It's so strange how separated I am from that now. I still want those things, but there's this undefined barrier in my head that makes me assume that all of those things are outside my reach. I'm not sure if it's a byproduct of always having my dreams at arm's length for practical reasons, but even now when I know I have the ability to do all the witchery I want, to hike all the trails... something stops me. I stop me. And I don't know why.

Maybe I should, uh, meditate on that.

In related news, the calendar my sister gave me for Yule also mentioned dreams today, and now that I'm looking at it and comparing it to what I just wrote, maybe the issue is that I'm judging myself for my dreams and deciding whether or not they measure up. I'm taking my shitty past experiences and deciding that since they sucked, so will the undefined future efforts.

So it turns out that I have a lot to think about today. But first: coffee.

In Which There is a Tough Decision and an Important Lesson

Ostara is coming up at the end of the month and I've been turning my mind to the things I want to see grow and thrive in my life. I've been diligent in establishing healthy routines to help support the growth of a healthy lifestyle, have been watchful of my spending and budget, and thoughtful about how and where I spend my time throughout my days.

So on Monday when I came home from a weekend of visiting friends and noticed that a beautiful bird's nest had appeared in the holiday wreath on the front door, I delighted in the symbolism. Over the next few days, I spooked the mother bird going to (and returning) from the gym in the early hours. She was living on our door! I was really happy and even felt a little blessed (Disney may have given my inner child strange notions about the joy of wee birds that years of having to deal with the noisy bastards has yet to demolish).

A friend from my college days who is an avid bird watcher warned me that the nest looked like it might belong to the House Sparrow, which is an insidious invasive species that pecks baby bluebirds to death in their nests. I didn't want to believe it and decided that I'd make the call if any eggs showed up -- I assumed that our comings and goings from the apartment would deter the mother from getting comfortable and that I'd never have to make the difficult decision.

This morning, however, I noticed a lone egg. I knew deep down that my worries were confirmed, but looked up the ID just in case. It is, of course, a house sparrow. Balls.

It's tough because I really love life and nature and how wild things reclaim habitat in spaces where humans have taken over. I love seeing nature persevere in the face of our hubris. In this case, though, removing this bit of nature that mankind removed from its natural habitat and introduced to North America allows for other bits of nature to survive.

While I was discussing this with a friend and mentioned my struggles with the timing of Ostara, I realized that this is a pretty good message as far as symbols go -- that we need to make sure that the things we're allowing to take root and thrive in our lives are things that are healthy. Something might look nice and and make you feel good, but it's important to know what impacts it will have on other areas of your internal ecosystem. It's not a pretty lesson to learn and it will be hard to remove the nest and dispose of the egg this weekend, but it's necessary. May we all have the strength to identify and do what we must to encourage positive growth in our lives.

Slowly finding my words

Things have been improving a lot.

I've almost been afraid to talk about it because I'm so afraid that this is all a fragile bubble that can burst at any moment and I'll be back to holding the floor down with my body and wishing I had the energy to do things. Fear is the mind killer, as Frank Herbert has said, and I will permit it to pass over me and through me.

I've finished up the medication cycle for my endo and have moved to a BC implant, which should help manage my symptoms. The lupron depot injections I was on were really helpful but sapped me of all my energy for six months and made it difficult to do anything. But things are improving and I've been able to exercise, to cook real food (not just reheat frozen things) and keep up with all the house things -- cleaning, laundry, etc. They're all things I previously took for granted; that is, you never really think about doing the laundry. You just do it because you need clean clothes, obviously, and it's just a normal thing like showering or wearing shoes. 

For the last six months I've had a prioritized list in my head. There were things that were non-negotiable that I had to do every day - brushing teeth, feeding the cat, going to work, eating at least two meals. Then there were secondary things that I needed to do, but could put off a few days and build up the energy for: dishes, laundry, grocery shopping. Things like "visit with a friend" or "participate in a non-essential thing" were very, very far down the list. I felt -- and still feel -- like a horrible person for not reaching out to friends who reached out to me, for not responding to messages or emails or letters. I'm not to a point where I can tackle the backlog yet, but I'm working on it. Progress is being made.

Spring has also brought with it a renewed stirring for witchy things, and I've decided that -- for the first time in 19 years -- to go back and review some of the basics. I was talking with a friend who has been practicing at least as long as I have about the heavy tiredness I've been feeling, and she recommended a really good book that isn't condescending to the long-time practitioner but that helps to get back to your roots. I've ordered it and will post more once I've had a chance to work through it a bit. 

Otherwise, I'm still keeping on. I feel like I'm in preparation mode for things to come -- tilling the soil in which I'll plant my intentions.