An old injury has flared up from my flipping, flying days as a teenage gymnast, and has come home to roost during the days of Pandemania.
The migration of fear from its sequestered subconscious hideout into my consciousness sends an alert to my “lookout'“—tense neck muscles! My neck is a place of vulnerability due to said injury, whereupon, my spiffy 16 year old self went from jumping on a springboard to a mat, and directly onto my head, where I stayed balanced for 5 seconds and then fell over. Everything was jammed, nothing was broken.
I have come to regard my neck and my whole body as one big ole antennae keeping me vigilant as to what I must be aware of, listen to, follow, dismiss, strengthen, relax, and ultimately get my marching orders from during the most confusing, idiotic, amazing, dreadful, exciting, ridiculous, time of my life, maybe even in the history of civilization!
So, when my neck becomes tight and twisted, and I can’t get enough crack, crack, cracks to set things right, I know there’s something serious going on. And, of course there is.
A stew of tension. We seem to be in the middle of that awkward time when half the people believe one thing, and half believe the other, but no one talks about it openly and instead they throw hate bombs every chance they get either openly or behind your back. Clif High calls it appropriately, “The Big Ugly.”
This hate bombing is part of what I have begun to understand to be—5th generational warfare. For those needing this definition I provide one by Wikipedia, even as I believe they did and continue to do dastardly deeds of censorship throughout the Pandemania. They are part of 5GW, in my view. Fifth-generation warfare is warfare that is conducted primarily through non-kinetic military action, such as social engineering, misinformation, cyberattacks, along with emerging technologies such as artificial intelligence.
Our minds and spirits dear humans are the targets. Our bodies too, but not through bombs through bioweapons.
I have always been expressive through my body, as a gymnast in High School, and later as an actor in college. When I left college, and found a real job, meaning something I hated, but put up with, I noticed that most 8 hour workdays were devoid of any physical movement and contained very little joy—two elements I thrived on in my early years. Who didn’t?
On and off throughout my life, I have rebelled against this odd state affairs. I did a lot of job hopping trying to find one that fit the bill for all that I wanted to express as a human. Like my child self, my big grown up self still needed to move, dance, sing, exude joy! Seriously people, don’t we all need to do this EVERY DAY, not just on the weekend after you clock out?
Now, I have come to see that the true, beautiful, ingenious, experimental, creative human is just way too much for the powers that be. Call them what you will, the empire, the cabal, the elites, the globalists. For ultimate control, humans and their innate powers must not be allowed to flourish.
And I fell for that bull crap. Maybe you did too.
Which is why I had a couple of life changing mental break-downs. Now hold on! Don’t go jumping to your judgements. I am hereby calling on all humans to go ahead—have your nervous breakdowns. As a bio being—human being, I have a sneaking suspicion it may be one of the only ways to make headway on the spiritual journey.
This is all pretty hard to explain. When I had my second break down, (the first was a bit of a blur) I noticed that it went through phases. The first phase was painful, especially because I was trying to hold on. Let me interject here that religious speak for this could be, “The Dark Night of the Soul.”
Here we have the battle between the ego and the soul or spirit. The ego is concerned with safety, security, esteem, power, and the spirit is interested in the “now moment” of personal/divine creation, a deference to the transcendent and a faith in the bigger picture of life. Hence, “Thy will be done.” Meaning, in our small and limited perspective, how can we possibly know the best thing for all of creation?
During this battle, “Despair is the last refuge of the ego.” Taken from a line in the play, The Memory of Water. (I played the part of the Mother) That play explored the transcendence of a mother’s love and a daughter’s desire for reconciliation even after death.
All is possible in the realm of the spirit.
The next phase for me in the break-down was this very strange feeling that I had no thoughts in my head. You know how usually the mind just goes on and on with stuff, sometimes a mile a minute? Well, there was just a blank. It was a little disconcerting but it did not scare me, or put me in a depression. I’m pretty sure you need your mind for that! Haha!
So, I will give you my scientific reason for why this happened. Of course I am no scientist, but it makes sense to me. My mind had just short circuited. Lines were blown, disconnected, maybe even damaged. But then, during this “blank time” I was rewiring. New connections, stronger, more stable ones were joining, solidifying, anchoring.
A healthy circuitry more in line with what is real, or more in line with life in a flow was being established. This “new mind” would allow me to flow too instead of fight, which leads to…breakdown.
When I am running at optimum, my body is constantly purring along with aches, pains, flutters, flushes and bursts! My neck tells me when I need to take action of some sort, and soon. My stomach tells me that I am neglecting something about an important relationship. My shoulders let me know that I am being too rigid somewhere or I’m not taking care of myself properly.
My heart. Oh my heart. This is where it all begins and ends. As I learn the “Atlas of the heart,” (I love that phrase, Brenee Brown! ) then, perhaps, I may not need to completely break down in my mind. The heart protects us from this by being much more available to love and forgiveness of ourselves and others.
My heart sings. Doesn’t yours too? It’s amazing how it just feels this sweet, sharp, pain, if you will, at the sight or sound of something too beautiful for words.
Our earth is too beautiful for words.
Human Beings are too beautiful for words in all of our striving, and hoping and dreaming and fighting to be free, and stumbling, and getting up again, and crawling out of the damn wastebasket, and being so gosh darn stubborn, and so surprisingly inventive, and being this unusual earth creature truly sitting right there in the middle.
Somewhere between heaven and earth. And, we are having a break-down.
Bless us everyone. Have mercy upon us.
What we might consider as human beings is to let it happen and give our consent
to be divine.
And before jobsville, K-12 stifled our life energies 30 hours a week.
Katherine Watt, author of Bailiwick News, turned me on to you. Your writing is sublime. Hers is too. In somehow very different ways.