ancestral tears and renewal…

last night i cried out, from the core of my being, a multigenerational wound. the show “transparent” initiated this healing cry. it was an episode where we were taken back to the family’s ancestry in berlin and the nazi invasion. too much to explain in blog, but all of the sudden i burst into a crying fit that started with my abuser and travelled seven generations backward into my bloodline. the mantra “you took my life,” streamed through my mind as the tears poured out in a storm of gut wrenching release. it lasted about three minutes or so, the length of a radio song. i felt as if i let go of what had been sitting in my belly my entire life. this is why i am a fan of stories. stories have always been my medicine for healing. spontaneous healing is my favorite kind. i operate by miracle and lightning flash. always have. this underworld journey has been long. usually i am only in it for a couple of days max. not a week. not each day waking up with such sorrow in my heart. i loved the raging teen shadow who was up in my consciousness the past two days and because i gave her space to exist and love for her pain, she honored this multifaceted matrix of me and took us to the next level. the ancestral level. she was the gateway. she was holding anger for an entire lineage of women. she was binding ancestral anger. it amazes me how powerful loving the shadow can be. after the cry i was able to let go and find peace in the tiniest things. a quiet safe studio, working internet, incense, pajamas, solitude. dreamed about clients last night. almost every night i do, but not the clients i see in real life. in my dreams i always work at a fictitious agency and work with fictitious clients. i think about my real life clients all the time. i think about humanity. i think about the importance of our lives here on earth. i talk to my spirit guide, helen, and she tells me she can still sense that i don’t fully believe in her. she’s the one i got proof on many years ago in vegas. i went to see this psychic. an elderly man who rented a business office on the east side. he wore a suit. he used no cards or tools of any kind. one of the first things he said to me was that i had a guide named helen. he also told me i was from andromeda. this stuck with me. i hadn’t explored that life matrix before. had only explored the pleaidian life up until that point. i don’t recall anything else he said. i wish i did because he was a bonafide psychic, not an intuitive healer. he was rare. vegas seems like so long ago now. i am nostalgic for those carefree days of youth. the good ole bad days. last night i felt nostalgic for new york city. the pacific northwest sometimes feels like a wet rainy nest of blah. i miss the high contrast of other places like vegas and new york. actually both are gemini. maybe i miss the excitement. in seattle things stay mellow and internal much of the time. maybe i miss the external nature of vegas and new york. sometimes i seriously think of moving again. other times seattle is home for sure. this is nothing new. i am often torn. i know that being with my partner is more important than where i live. i could make home anywhere. trying to keep hope alive. it’s been a year now since anything romantic. a year and counting. it’s been three years since i was in a relationship but that only lasted four months and was long distance. relationships feel far away from me. i don’t even care anymore, which is a total lie. i care too much. ganesha is staring at me in the face. remove my obstacles, ganesha. make me new again…

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