all the way up into the sky and back down to the soil blog…

my psyche is on fire right now.  lit up by change.  i feel as if all of the archetypes that make up michelle, are gathered around a bonfire that is my unconscious, having one last party before a new arrangement is made among them.  i feel myself resisting this morning.  i want to resist by avoiding.  if i say it out loud, it lessens…the pressure and desire to avoid.  one step in front of the other.  choices narrow the path.  i feel time moving on when i was trying to hold it down with safety pins.  i feel sorrow for not having the wisdom to do what i am doing now, sooner.  i guess, sorrow for lost time.  but none of it is lost.  i have connected with amazing people, created so much, learned a ton.  now, here i am, ready for something i could have been doing all along.  it’s not the be all end all.  nothing is really.  this past week, after watching jordan peterson lectures, i have been tapped heavily into my existential side.  i have that side, and i have a mystical side.  the two are equally real inside and they do not see life the same way.  but they do tie together.  the existential side knows the mystical side brings meaning to my life, and meaning is a creative act that supports both evolution and happiness.  the mystical side knows i am tapping in to truth, finds solace and peace within this truth, and wants to bring truth through in a creative way.  the two sides may not agree on the nature of reality, but they don’t need to agree.  i am totally ok to live with two non-agreeing different souls in this body of mine, who both think they are right.  libra moon.  right now, the existentialist is flaring up, and so i am seeing all of my myth making and story telling as a mechanism to create meaning because that’s what humans do…in a ceaseless never ending fashion.  even when the story is to let go of the story.  it propels me toward the buddhist desire to take myself off the wheel of karma by letting go of the story of me, hard enough to leave, and become nothingness, when i die.  the mystic in me sings her song of devotion to earth, “we’re not done, no matter how much you want to go home.”  dramatic and passionate waves roll through.  a tall order wrapped inside of an unbeknownst package.  a woman of eastern european decent, finding herself in a bloodline.  better end this now, before i talk myself into a celestial storm larger than i can handle.  i am zooming out really really far, in order to avoid the details.  gotta make some calls, do my practice, shower, and get to work.  regular stuff, down to the ground.  from the profound back to the mundane.  drink this cup of coffee, observe the pain, give love, repeat.  oh, and burn some juniper.