- jbmauvaisemineMAUVAISE MINE
- bethfullerin the crackling dusk
- yayitzelyayitzel
- oykumoarto y k u m o
Ай!
Фух….фух…
Нормально….нормально….
Бл*ть! Локтем ударился об нерв!
What’s the point of it all if it makes no difference. I’ll figure out something. My soul cares. Just gotta go with the flow.
“Knowing where the root of happiness lies saves us from escalating pain.”
- Pema Chodron, No Time to Lose
Does anyone want to love me? I’m really ugly but I give good cuddles🥺
the painted face
POSTCARD#404: Bangkok: The days of Biden are here at last. I’m happy but wounded in the battles of Trump. Speaking figuratively, I’m not one to go to war. Many of us suffered when the painted face came on television and we’d have to brace against his silent malice and spite. It hurt deep in the centre of my being. Not able to recover properly, the mind was in overwhelm because the hurt was an…
Master of Destruction - that is my name
People were laughing right in the face
Trying to catch a breath
Caught by the throat - apnea…
As I ran away, I saw the gates of suffering
I chose the gateway to malnutrition.
~blacksyeux
My mom just told me that I look like a stick and I am thriving
…that unhappiness is just as necessary to man as happiness.
Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Possessed (The Devils).
Isn’t it such a nice feeling being worthless and unloved :’)
I have been so grateful for all the comments, and it’s no wonder that this past week - heck, this past month, while both my parents got COVID, and then with my dad in the hospital, that I have had a lot of time to look at death from all angles.
And you know what I saw…many.
You die a thousand times if you live into your full potential.
Every next level requires a next-level version of you, meaning some part of your, some old identity, MUST die in order to live fully in the life of your dreams.
When I look back on the self-destructive, bulimic, 19-year old me, I don’t recognize myself in her anymore. I just see a sad, broken girl, searching for control and ultimately wholeness and love in all the wrong places.
That version of me died.
Like the caterpillar, who leaves its former self in the cocoon of transformation, you create a new identity.
A new being.
Except in our human journey, we keep returning again and again to the cocoon, with every next level, with every next goal, with every transition, with every change we experience as we journey onward.
But what no one mentions is that there is a grieving process for what was, and a DECISION that gets made for what will be.
Do you live lost in the Wonderland of memories, in grief, regret of the past, never accepting the reality of what is?
Or do you embrace the future, while also holding both gratitude and forgiveness for the past version of you, and of others who transformed you into the butterfly?
When I got pregnant with Declan, the excuse-riddled version of me who was constantly delaying on stepping up and being courageous died.
When I gave birth to Declan, the old identity of me holding back on fully loving and trusting because of fear, had to die too, in order to fully open my heart to loving my son.
When I shifted from 5-figures to 6-figures, the old identity of who I was also had to die, to be unavailable for anything less.
When we chose to stay in Australia back in March and live into this vision we’ve had to be digital nomads and experience the world within the reach of wifi, the old part of me that was trapped in fear and comfort, also had to die to allow for the faithful, the visionary, the BELIEVER to emerge.
Every season, every next level has a death, a crumbling of what was.
My dad had many deaths before his actual physical death this past week. The death of the alcoholic. The death of the opioid addict. The death of the solopreneur. The death of the broke dude borrowing his dad’s pick up to build a business. The death of the faithless.
And each death led to a new life. New life as a sober. New life as present in his body. New life as a business owner. New life as a CEO. New life as a faithful believer in God.
What generates suffering is living in the past death, not allowing yourself to let it go - let that old identity of who you have been crumbled to the ground.
So yes, a version of me died with my dad.
An old identity was suddenly stripped away - the hero who would always swoop in to rescue him, the vigilant watcher, who always had to be on the lookout for his behavior shifts, and that last bit of the victim who needed to be needed by her daddy. Gone.
And I’m still in my cocoon feeling out who will emerge forth.
But I know she will be fucking glorious when she does.
For on the other side of death is life.
Not to be incredibly cheesy, but yes, it’s a circle. Yeah, thanks, Elton.
And every death is a stripping away to do as Mufasa reminded us and “remember who you are,” at your core, at your soul.
You are love.
You are joy.
You are peace.
You are an infinite being having a human experience.
And it is through your human experience that death by death, everlasting life force is renewed.
Remember, your reign is now.
P.S. Call it Divine Timing or what you will but I was asked by my friend, Brenda Cross to speak next week in her Masterclass series on how to Thriving in Turbulent Times over a month ago.
It was supposed to be pre-recorded several weeks ago, but scheduling and life being what it was, we thought it would be fun to do it live instead and shake things up a bit.
And, man has my world been shaken.
This is going to be my first live interview since my dad’s passing, and honestly, I’d appreciate the support of a few friendly faces from our Crown Yourself community to help me through.
I’ll be sharing what allowed us to thrive through 2020, double our gross income, double our profit…twice, move to and start a new life in a different county, grow our team, and support our clients to do the same through the chaos of 2020.
But frankly, nothing’s felt harder than this past month, so I’ll be sharing some fresh new learnings, tools, and mindset shifts that have been supporting me. I’m just as much a student of this process as you.
Whatever you decide, I am so grateful to you for your support through these times. Thank you. ❤️
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Normalities and Other Disorders: On Suffering
https://www.facebook.com/literaryworks.org/photos/a.2276280599132354/3785216964905369/?type=3
holy fuckinnnnng hell this is some kind of patience test i fucking swear
i’m drawing this fucking pear and it smells so good and i want to eat it so fucking much and it mixes horribly with paint fuck you artistic vision fuck you so fucking much i just want to eat a pear and not sit in oil fumes and suffer because it’s cold out and i can’t open a fucking window
my contribution to the boreal gang with my fav moment from techno’s “secret organization” stream!!
“happy hut” + a doodle of ranboo with a techno-plushie
Despite deferring my university place to focus on my mental health and be a better situation without covid etc, it breaks my heart that I failed my essay because I really tried and I’m usually quite academic. This depression has taken so much away from me, even things I didn’t realise it had like my study skills. I’d rather it took my life rather than let me keep living as this empty shell
I just wanna be two dimensional. Is that too much to ask for?!?
Stirring in me
Is the pain of not knowing you
Completely.
It swirls like a dark void,
A serpent churning
The muck that keeps my heart dark.
What is this?
This journey of pain,
Children dying
At the hands of parents,
Hunger slowly stealing
The light from their eyes.
How could we come here and let this happen?
Are we trying to create order from the madness?
Will the suffering ever end?
Do you love?
Or is it only I that can love you?
While you exist in witness to the unfolding
Of this chaotic explosion of me
And you
And everything.