Do you sabotage your own happiness?

We're sitting on our back lawn, smoking, and my sister, da'Renegade Mama (dRM), heaves a sigh.

"I don't know why I do this!  I'm at the 11th hour again with my homework, and now I'm dreading doing it because I'll have to pull an all-nighter to get it done.  It doesn't make any sense because I LOVE what I'm studying!  Everything I read for school, every paper I write, every assignment is highly fulfilling and interesting ... and yet I put it off and put it off and treat it like a duty until I resent it and have to grind my way through the task!"

She goes on..

"And if anyone asked me what my number one favorite thing is in the world, I'd answer that it's playing with my kids.  Playing with them - wrestling and dancing and jumping on the trampoline and throwing frisbees.  And how often do you see me do that?'

I shrug my shoulders.  "Like two or three times a week," I reply.

"Right!  But if it's my favorite thing, why don't I do it every day?!?"

We sit in silence for a few moments.

I add, "I love running.  Like, love LOVE it.  And I can't remember the last time I went running."

"So why do we sabotage all of our happiness by avoiding the very things that make us happy," dRM wonders aloud.

That's a good question!

I hear this question quite a bit actually.  At the coffee/metaphysical shop I work at, I chat with customers a lot.  We get into what's going on in their lives and I invariably hear, "I should read more - learning more about this new age stuff is so fulfilling to me!" or "I should meditate more.  When I do, I feel so much better, but I just don't, even when I have the time and will to."  On and on.  Just yesterday, one of my housemates, Papasan, mused that he put off his homework all weekend, and spent the whole weekend drenched in guilt, and when he finally did the homework - which only took him about an hour - he felt light, happy and free as a bird!

Can you think, right now, of things that you absolutely love that you never do, even when you have the time and resources to do them?

What is it in our culture/belief systems, our biology, or psychology makes this sabotage so commonplace?

I have a few thoughts, but I'd love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

First, I think culturally, we give a lot of power to guilt and "hard work" and are veritably terrified of hedonism.  By hard work, I'm referring to forcing oneself to put their nose to the grindstone, use discipline, and dig their way through something.  My dad used to always say when we were little "Great people do hard things".  If something makes us happy and we enjoy doing it it feels wrong to us, or at the very least suspicious.  I can't just enjoy myself day-in-and-day-out reading books and going running - that would make me a hedonist!  Our culture teaches us that too much enjoyment and pleasure is small-minded, wicked, or wasteful.  So we limit our enjoyment, even if limiting it gets in the way of our personal development.

Maybe that sounds far-fetched to you.  But let me ask you this - how often do you choose to do the hard things before the easy things just to "get them over with"?  I do it all the time when I eat.  I always eat my least-favorite part of a meal first, and save the best for last.  Guess what happens?  I feel full halfway through the meal and still haven't even tasted my favorite part of it.  So now I'm in a conundrum - do I stop eating and miss out on what I was most looking forward to, or gorge myself?  Do you do the same thing?  Do you stay up until bedtime doing your least favorite things, and then you have to choose between getting the sleep your body craves or reading that book you've been dying to get to?

I think we are afraid of too much happiness because we are taught to be afraid of hedonism.  I'd love to hear your thoughts on this.

This brings us to my second thought on the topic, which is that we have unrealistic expectations for the things we love.  Because absence makes the heart grow fonder, we begin to believe that the things we love are 100% easy and delightful from start to finish.  That's simply not true!  Let's go back to me and my love of running.  What I love about running is feeling powerful and strong, feeling the blood coursing through my body and my muscles feeling fatigued and still taking me miles and miles further.  I love the power that comes from setting my mind to the task and the physical reward of having a strong mind.  But right now, I'm out of shape, so running doesn't do that for me.  Right now, running makes me feel weak, slow and fat.  So when I go running, it does the exact opposite of what my expectations for it are.  Because my expectations are unrealistic.  Running is challenging and takes a lot of focus and dedication.  And only after consistently applying focus and dedication to the challenge do the rewards present themselves.

Now, returning to dRM's lamentations.  Playing with her kids is FUN ... for about 1/3 of the experience.  But it also includes being out in super-hot or super-cold weather, changing flat tires on bikes, packing around snacks and taking incessant potty breaks, and the kicker, managing 4 beautiful grommets fighting over each other for mom's attention.  And, of course, with kids, if you play with them once, then for the next week, every five minutes they're wondering why you aren't ready to swing from the chandeliers with them again - it sets a precedent that is challenging to live up to.

So yes, the things that make us happy truly do bring a lot to our lives, but they also often require dedication and challenge.  That taints them for us.  Why not just settle for the happy memories instead of dredging through the effort for the payout?

Finally, we tend in our culture to have an all-or-nothing attitude about pretty much everything.  I can't have fun until I'm in perfect physical shape and have the perfect wardrobe, home and appliances to match the level of happiness I aspire to; I can't convince people (or myself) that I'm happy if I'm fat, single or poor!  I have to have it all in order to experience any happiness whatsoever!  And even if I do things I love, because I'm fat/single/poor/etc. I couldn't even enjoy them because I'd know I'm falling short of the dream!

I can't just go running when I feel like it, I must go every day and be continually improving my pace and distance.  We can't just do the same thing over and over with the kids - we have to innovate more fun activities!  And I can't enjoy this book until my house is perfectly clean and my inbox is cleared out and I've prepared a 100% raw, organic, vegan dinner.  Then, and ONLY THEN can I actually enjoy it!

Not true.

We are so overloaded with guilt for what we don't do, that we don't allow ourselves to enjoy the things we want to do.  Is it impossible to "have it all?"  Probably not.  But it's unreasonable to hold happiness at bay until we have it all.  Wouldn't you rather have "some of it all" and every day experience those things that make you most happy - and become a truly happy person - than finally achieve it all and have lived years or decades in stress and guilt?

I say, cook your kids ramen for dinner once a week so that you have time to play with them, if playing with them makes you truly happy.  Eat the dessert you love and gain a little weight if eating dessert rocks your world.  Choose happiness over other things regularly, even if it means cutting corners, and then from a happy place find ways to improve areas of your life that you feel merit improvement.

Does this mean I condone a full-fledged hedonistic lifestyle?  No.  It isn't black or white like that.  Be a hedonist two or three hours a day, and with the time that's left, go back to chipping away at the grindstone.  There's a time and a place for seeking pleasure, and I think that time comes around at least once a day.  Be balanced with where you get your pleasure from - sometimes a fabulous TV show, sometimes skipping through the park, sometimes chatting with a friend for three hours - but not always all of it.  Just dedicate two or three hours to doing whatever it is you love, every day, no matter what.  Inject happiness in your life, then build from that base.

And finally, for those really grueling tasks there are psychological happiness games you can play to make them more fun.  Only do them to music you love.  Do them in your favorite pair of underwear that you reserve for special occasions.  Allow yourself to eat one bite of your favorite food for every math problem you finish.

In our home, with four small children, dRM and Risseroo made one small change of verbiage that changed the kids' entire paradigm about their chores.  "Do your chores," we'd say, "you can't play on the Kindle until your chores are done."  Then we experienced about an hour of weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth.  So one day, dRM and Riss decided to call chores "life skills."  They told the kids that they needed to practice their life skills every day in order to be ready for adulthood.  The change was astonishing.  The kids started arriving home from school with, "When do we get to do our life skills?"  After dinner, we'd say, "Ok, you can come watch us play Donkey Kong" (because Riss and I play so amazingly that the kids are overcome with joy at simply watching us play ... he he he) and the older girls made faces at us and said, "Nuh-uh!  We haven't done our life skills yet!"  Um, the 7 and 5 year-olds reminded us that they hadn't done their chores yet.

So when it's time to clean your house, are you cleaning, or loving on your home?  How different would it be to say, "I'm gonna show some love to my toilet that I'm so grateful takes our waste far, far away," instead of, "Gotta clean the toilets ... *sigh* ... again ..."  Or, "I get my blood pumping every morning and clear my pores for perfect skin," instead of "I'm gonna go sweat like a pig at the gym."  Try it.  It works.  What chores in your life can become your life skills?

One last thing that I have recently rediscovered.  Do it now.  When something pops into your mind and makes sense, just take action right away.  Don't give yourself time to think through whether or not you want to do it and when you should start.  If it pops in your mind that you haven't played with your kids for a while and you kind of miss it ... stand right up and find your offspring and initiate play.  Even if only for 2 minutes.  If you suddenly get the urge to crack into your work or homework, before thinking about it, stand right up and do it.  I had this happen to me last week.  Risseroo goes to the gym every morning at 7.  One afternoon, I was reading a book, and paused with the thought, "I could totally go to the gym with her and it would be fun.  My biggest holdup with working out is that I don't follow through unless I have someone to go with that I'm just a little bit accountable to, and here's someone right in my house that I adore who goes every morning at a reasonable hour, and I'm not going.  Why?"  Then I decided I'd think about it for another day or two to decide if I really wanted to do it or not.  A few hours later, Riss and I were out back smoking, and the thought popped into my mind again, and I realized that I had no reason to not start immediately, except for pure procrastination.  So I said, "I think I want to start going to the gym with you."  Riss said, "Yay!  Awesome!"  And then I said, "Wake me up tomorrow.  I want to start tomorrow."

And I've gone to the gym with her every day since.

If I had paused to think about it for a few days, I would have not even started by now, or probably ever.  And today I ran 3 miles on the treadmill and we did 45 minutes of lifting weights.  Did you hear that?  I went RUNNING today.  And I clocked a reasonable distance for starting up, so I didn't feel fat or slow, but I felt strong!  Going to the gym with Riss is one of the highlights of my day - even though I wake up a full 5 hours earlier than normal for me (yes, I usually wake up around noon).

So whatever this post is making you think of, do it now.  One small step in that direction you're thinking of - you don't have to take on the whole enchilada, but set it in motion now.  No more planning or contemplating, just step towards happiness.  And make sure five or six times a day you consciously take more small steps towards your happiness.

Because wouldn't you rather be happy than anything else?

Tarot: To read or not to read?

I'm hesitating a little to write this post, mostly because it feels incredibly personal, and I think that the comparisons I make in it may feel too strong for some people.  Please bear with me as I share my real feelings and experiences. :)

Some of you may know this already - though many of my online readers probably don't - but I *HATE* doing tarot card readings.

I love tarot.  But I hate readings.

I talk about it all the time with people close to me, and anyone that gets in a general discussion with me about tarot.  I love the symbolism of tarot, the system of it, the way that the images on the cards can relate with so many thoughts, feelings and experiences in my life.  I love how in a tarot spread the pictures dance together to form thoughts and ideas and stories.  I sometimes say that for me tarot is like the most amazing and complex filing system: when a card comes up, I check the file in my brain assigned to it, and find I can access more information, ties, ideas and experiences from my memory because I've related it to symbols and images, than I can with just simple memorization of facts.

The other day I was talking to a friend who was explaining some spiritual lessons she was going through, and talked about how she's learned that "deadly sins" (read that term loosely, since "sin" isn't exactly anything I believe in) take residence in us and choke us, but we let them in, we allow them to do that.  I smiled at her and said, "I don't believe in sin, but what you're describing to me is the Devil card."  Then she talked about needing to find balance in an alchemical dance between openness and boundaries.  "Yeah, that's the Temperance card," I said.  Then she explained how when we free ourselves from habits that are hurtful or self-sabotaging it's like we rise from the dead.  Again, I smiled, "That's the Judgement card."  Just about everything in life, especially involving spirituality, matches one of the files in my mind that is labeled with a tarot card.  That's why I love tarot.

So why do I hate readings?  I've hated doing readings almost ever since I first became acquainted with tarot.  When I think back on it, I didn't mind doing readings for people when I was just practicing, or the online readings I did on the tarotforum.net page for strangers.  I don't mind getting involved in discussion and commentary about readings.  I just hate doing readings.  People always ask me why?  Why do I hate doing readings?  Over the years, I've given a lot of answers, but they generally boil down to these:

1. I feel like when I do readings people come with expectations, and I don't know how to meet them.  I just read what I see in the cards, and I have no idea how to make it meet any kind of expectation.  I've done a lot of different things to try and give people the right experience, and overall I've gotten golden reviews about my readings; so the expectations I'm worried about probably don't exist.  But my stress and tension over them do, and I hate feeling that way.
2. I don't love getting so personal and intimate with people, even if we're really only talking about their personal and intimate details.  When I read cards for someone, I usually get a lot of insight into their lives - from the cards themselves and from discussing the reading with them - and I find it taxing to be so intimate so quickly.  A lot of people tell me: you need to shield your energy, or make sure you aren't taking on people's problems, etc.  That's not what this intimacy issue is.  The issue is that most people I read for are complete strangers to me, and I feel uncomfortable being so rashly exposed to their lives and energies when I don't know them at all, and they don't really know me.  It feels intrusive, even if I'm an invited guest; kind of like staying at a complete stranger's home for the weekend.  Even if it's safe or fun or whatever, I don't like being immersed in other people's worlds.  I'd rather stay at a hotel, so to speak.
3. I usually don't feel sufficiently "in" to people's readings.  The best way I can describe it is with an analogy.  For me, each card reading is like going to a funeral.  I know that sounds drab, but bear with me.  Funerals are personal and emotional events, where people come into contact with things that are painful, traumatic or oddly liberating.  They are dealing with their emotions, and the entire event holds deep meaning.  But if I'm a stranger showing up at your grandma's funeral, I may be touched and cry or whatever, but I also may feel nothing.  And then I'm the weird person who's sitting comfortably in a room of emotional people feeling like a sociopath because I'm not moved at all.  Often, when I give readings, I find myself just reading away like I'm reading a newspaper or something, and my querents are very emotionally touched or moved; then I look up and I'm like, "Oh, yeah, I should wipe the casual smile off my face probably..."  It's not a big deal, but I feel awkward and uncomfortable in such situations.  I'm not actually very empathic, so when people are struggling I often can't match the vibe authentically.  And faking a match feels terribly fake, which fakeness I try to avoid in my life.  
4. When people want readings - and I know this because I feel the same way when I want a reading, and I do sometimes want readings - they want them RIGHTNOW.  Not tomorrow, not next week, they want a reading at that very minute.  That means that my appointment book was always empty, but my phone and email are constantly buzzing with people in emergencies, and I constantly have walk-ins asking if I can drop everything and read cards.  For most people that would probably be cool, no big deal.  For me, it felt like I was always on a leash that someone would be coming to yank.  

Ok, those are all mediocre excuses.  It would make sense that I would dislike doing card readings, but to hate doing them?  Make no mistake, I hate doing readings - even when I make money at them, even when its for close friends, even for fun at a party, I hate doing readings.

Well, today I realized why I hate them, and because of this realization, I've decided on an immediate cease-fire for all tarot reading practice, because it's actually extremely traumatic.

In order to understand my feelings about card readings, we have to take a trip down memory lane.  When I learned to do tarot, I was immediately very good at it.  I started giving readings to friends and family, and they encouraged me to go pro and start charging to do readings for strangers.  I didn't want to.  I felt uncomfortable with the idea.  In fact, often the friends and family that I read for pressed me for readings I didn't want to give - but I'd do the readings because I felt bad withholding answers they desperately wanted.

Soon, the pressure to read professionally and for strangers got hotter.  People started begging me for readings.  I felt bad saying no, even though I really didn't want to do them.  Friends of mine would refer their friends, and I did my best to say no, but would often give in and read for them even though I didn't want to.  At the time, I owned a retail spirituality shop with my sisters, and me reading cards was often a throw-in at events to get people to come.   I didn't love doing them, in fact, I still suffered from medium-grade social anxiety, and the one-on-one nature of a card reading made me feel dread and resentment; but I was good at it, so I felt bad depriving the world of my talents.

Sometimes a reading here and there was fun.  I liked reading at parties where people would just blow through for quickie 15-minute flops.  But for the most part, I would hope for a reading because I needed the money and simultaneously pray that no one bought one.

Then one day, I decided to be done with readings.  I had a kind of traumatic experience with this stalker lady and a crazy love triangle.  I needed a break, I decided, and put my cards away.

Over the next three years, I'd keep my tarot cards close and on-hand, but only because I liked them, I liked to look at them - I always turned down readings.  I would read for my sisters here and there, or close friends upon request, but I still resented doing it.  I never read for myself.  It usually never occurred to me to even try.

Keeping my cards handy would put me in tricky situations.  My sisters loved telling people what a talented card reader I was, because they were proud of me for having such an awesome skill; then those people would invariably ask/beg me for a reading.  "No," I'd say kindly.  Then, "NO."  Then, "SERIOUSLY, PLEASE DON'T MAKE ME DO THIS."  Then with pressure from people's dire need or my siblings who were excited for me to show off, I'd give in and resentfully do a reading.

For three years I tried to avoid readings, and was pretty successful at avoiding them except maybe once every few months.  But every time it came up, every time someone asked for a reading, I felt dread and resentment.

Then I began working at another spirituality shop with friends who are some of the biggest fans of my readings.  They'd ask me for readings here and there, and I generally liked giving them readings because they were my friends.  These friends were so excited about my talent, and so proud of me, that they insisted I must begin doing readings again professionally.  I said no.  And they continued to press the issue.  I explained that I really hated doing readings, and they teased me.  Soon they started sending people to me for readings, whom I tried to send away or turn down, but ultimately I would have to read for them.  Then they'd send more.  I figured I should try to make the best of it, and since the little income would help, I'd embrace the idea of being a professional card reader.  So I did, I went for it full-force, and did pretty well for eight months.  Yay me.

Except every reading I did, I pretty much hated.  I know that sounds mean and harsh, probably especially for those of you who have gotten readings from me.  Please know that it isn't about you; I hated doing readings for my best friends. I don't usually hate the readings while I'm doing them, but I hate the lead-in to the readings and the post-reading chit-chat.  The intimacy of the readings, the urgency, the thick and heavy meaning behind them - all of those factors I dread, day in and day out.

So, I decided about a month ago that I needed a break from readings.  I told my friends to refer any old clients or walk-ins to a friend of mine who reads cards, and took down my signage and my business cards from anywhere they were displayed.

And you know what happened?  I had about 40 people over a two week period show up and ask for readings.  Arg!  Constantly having to turn people down, turn them away, say no, and no again, and no-seriously-NO!  And I read for some friends because I felt terrible turning them away in their time of need, and regretted it and become even more resentful of people asking for readings.

After discussing this issue at length with friends and family members, who are all baffled by why I hate readings so much - because everyone thinks my reasons are stupid (which in a way I agree with them), I finally said, "I just feel wrong about it.  I feel forced into being intimate with people.  I feel like from the moment I picked up a tarot deck, I've been pushed and prodded and forced to be in intimate personal settings with strangers that I don't feel comfortable in, and that because they're paying me and because I'm making them feel so happy, I should ignore my discomfort."

Guess what that sounds like, folks?

Prostitution.

Now, I'm not saying that card readings are the same physical thing as prostitution, but that's what doing card readings feels like to me.  Not because anything is wrong with readings (or prostitution per se), but because I have felt from the moment I started tarot, forced into intimate settings with people I don't know.  Forced to bear my soul, bear my talents, bear my feelings and personal relationship with tarot to people whenever they demand it.  And I hate it, but I need the money; or I hate it, but they need answers so bad; or I hate it, but I can't let my friends/family down.

Well, that's STUPID!

I realized that 95% of all readings I've done, I've done under duress.  And even when I was "taking it on" and trying to be all positive about reading cards, it didn't change that my entire being was begging me to stop doing it and I fought myself because I didn't want to let my pimps or Johns down.  LAME!

And so I've taken down all of the buy-a-reading links on my website.  Yay - I felt so happy and liberated the moment I did it.  And almost immediately I had the option of applying for an awesome grad school program - something new to dedicate my time and energy to.  Yay!  And because I have a friend who reads cards and is happy to take the referred clientelle, I just send people her way any time it comes up.  I am so happy to be done with readings.

But I'm not done with tarot.  I've got some teaching plans in the works right now, and I plan to pick up on my Spiritual Memoir posts again.  Tarot is my buddy that will stick around, and that makes me really happy.

So - there we go!  I'm wondering - do any of you have talents that you simply don't enjoy engaging in, but feel like you have to do them because you're so talented?  Or in what ways do you feel you prostitute your time, talents, energy and ideas out for money?

The Butterfly Effect: A Magical Manifestation of Abundance

It's August 3, 2012, and I'm sitting at High Vibes Coffee & Crystals in Orem, UT, where I volunteer/trade working hours at the shop in exchange for meeting Reiki and Tarot clientele, and training in Reiki through Lisa Ross-Walker.  Troy Walker, the owner of the shop, and I, are having a little chat as I relieve him on his shift - something we do almost every day for 30 minutes or so.  I'm feeling deflated, tired and down.  As Troy and I are taking a look at why I feel like such crap, I start on a rampage.

Troy and Lisa

"I'm on my last pair of contact lenses, Troy, and I've been wearing them for like two months.  I finally saved up enough money to buy more, but the Optometrist won't let me renew my prescription unless I pay for a full eye exam, which I can't afford right now.

"I need to get a business license to make sure my Tarot and Reiki business is legal, and to make sure my student loan payments stay in deferment.

"I dropped my phone in the toilet the other day, and it survived until two hours later a can of soup fell out of the kitchen cupboard on it and smashed the screen.  I waited two weeks for a new screen to arrive in the mail, and as I was installing it, for some reason the LCD connector on the motherboard of my phone short-circuited and now the phone's totally ruined.  John and Cindy Hoover brought me a loaner phone until I can afford a new one, but it's the wrong technology to work with the SIM card I have.

"I gave a Reiki treatment the other day to a guy in desperate need who said he'd bring me the $55 the next day - two weeks later I still haven't heard from him."

Enter my tears, which I apologized for, and Troy insisted that I allow myself to cry as much as I needed to, even though I was "at work running the shop."  I started bawling.

"I just don't understand, Troy.  I understand how the Law of Attraction works, I'm reading the Divine Matrix and studying A Course in Miracles which confirm that by feeling positive and excited about my financial abundance I will pull it in to my space - but every time I get the money I need, the cost of what I hope to accomplish escalates.  I've been doing meditations and worksheets and grids for my root chakra, and embracing each experience as an opportunity for my situation to always be improving, but I'm reaching a breaking point where I just can't feel it any more.  I don't have a car or a phone, so it would be really challenging to even get a job if I wanted one at this point ... I mean, fuck, man, I just feel so screwed!"

After another 30 minutes of releasing my frustration, I started to feel better.  The release was good, and with a shaky resolve, I was able to step back into an energy of gratitude, hopefulness and happiness.  At around 3 PM I posted this on my Facebook page:

"In my life I'm surrounded by the nicest, most caring people on Earth, and I'm really grateful for it. Today, Troy W. Walker listened to me bawl for about an hour about how I don't understand how to live a life with passion and also make the money I need. How often does a 30 year-old chick get to bawl on her boss' shoulder? Thank you to all of my friends - I lack for nothing in that department! :) "

The next day, I came into work.  Troy handed me an envelope.  I opened it, and found inside a card and letter from him and his wife Lisa, and a $100 bill.  I grinned and thanked him profusely!  Holy crap!  A free $100 bucks in cash!!!

Two hours later, my dear friends John and Cindy Hoover pull into the parking lot.  Attached to their car is a trailer with a barely-used beautiful white-and-chrome scooter motorbike of theirs on it.  They get out of the car, and say, "Surprise!"  Cindy hands me the title to the scooter, signed over to me!!!!  "Check out your new scooter, sister!" she and John exclaim! Dudes - they loaned me a car for six months and asked nothing in return, and yesterday they GIFTED me a totally functional, barely-used scooter!!  Cindy then hands me a blank check to pay for the registration on it, and lets me know that she's prepared to take me helmet shopping on Monday if I can't find/afford a helmet in the next two days.

HOLY.

CRAP.

!!!

All I can do is talk and talk and talk and giggle and laugh and make sure every person who comes into the shop congratulates me on my new motorcycle!!  :)  :)  And take it for like 5 test-drives around the parking lot.  And insist everyone that comes into the shop takes it for a test drive.  :)

James and Sunny

I leave work, and know my brother-in-law, James, just sold his motorbike, and may have a helmet.  I go to his house on my new ride and ask him, and he offers me this crazy helmet that was squishing my chubby cheeks.  The helmet wasn't ideal, but I thanked him and said I may or may not keep it depending on what else I could find.  I head over to my other sister, Shauna's, house, show off my scooter, and ask her if she has a helmet I can have.  As I'm telling her my whole story for the day, she stops me and says, "I have a cheap AT&T phone you can use!"  She runs into her office and brings out a phone for me, that's still in the box, and lets me know I can keep it as long as I need to, until I can afford my own replacement.

"By the way," Shauna's husband Billy adds, "Your dad was trying to sell some motorcycle helmets last week at his yard sale.  He gave them to Sunny and James.  So they should have extras that maybe James didn't know about..."

I head back over to Sunny and James' house and ask them about the other helmets.  "Oh yeah," they say, "but I think they're kid-size helmets."  They pull one out of their goodwill pile, and sure enough it fits like a glove!  And it's white and matches my scooter :)  Granted, it's like 20 years old, but it doesn't squish my face, lol, so I was STOKED!!

In short, in 24 hours after my breakdown, I had purchased my business license, had a new scooter and everything I needed to safely and legally operate it, got a replacement phone, and had $90 left over to put towards my contact lenses.

Shauna and Billy

Oh yeah, and right after my breakdown, Troy, who works as a Real Estate Agent, hooked me up with a job at his brokerage as a Spanish-to-English translator for shortsell files with Spanish-speaking sellers (because no one at his brokerage speaks Spanish!).  I already was assigned to my first file, and will be making $20 an hour just to go to meetings with sellers and translate - on my own schedule of availability, totally part-time, and doing something I can totally believe in (helping people get through a sticky financial time in their lives).

Problems.All.Solved.

SO...

Liberty.  You're welcome for
this choice in pic, Lib :)

I've been thinking about it, and why the timing happened as it did.  First of all, as I was talking to my sister Liberty (who feeds me and lets me live with her for free and totally gives me anything she can in terms of financial support and assistance even though she's a single mother of 4 kids and a student, because she believes in me, which is amazing in and of itself), and we realized that when I go to anger with issues, which I usually do first, it buries sadness deep inside of me.  By crying to Troy, and actually acknowledge that I'm not just mad and frustrated, but sad, I acknowledged and released the sadness, which was likely blocking the flow of energy/abundance to me.  Once I released the sadness, I immediately manifested major abundance through the generosity of an amazing community.

Lesson 1: Playing tough and angry blocks my energy.  Releasing sadness moves my energy.

Awesome.

Next, I couldn't stop thinking about the power of the Butterfly Effect.  In this situation, a whole cascade of blessings was waiting for me, and what really set it off, what released the avalanche, was me releasing my feelings, and THEN posting with honesty about my shortcomings and needs, and also gratitude for the support I WAS ALREADY receiving from a member of my community.  One small post got John and Cindy excited (and definitely not feeling obligated) about joining in on the fun of making someone's day (as Troy had done by listening to me and giving me permission to cry).  After John and Cindy left from dropping off my scooter, this is the stuff THEY were posting on Facebook:

"When you hang with amazing people,amazing things will manifest in your life."  - John Hoover

He was posting that hanging out with ME made his life manifest amazing things for HIM when he gave ME his scooter.  Like, what??  I'M the one who benefited from having HIS amazing friendship.  He is incapable of seeing how I have been blessed any more than he has by this experience.  Cindy was texting Liberty all night, reveling in her excitement at having seen my shocked face.  Cindy felt like SHE was getting the blessing, when she gave ME her scooter.  Amazing people!

So Troy listened to me bawl, John and Cindy immediately started cleaning up and making small repairs on the scooter, Lisa bought a card and found a crisp $100 bill, and I had done NOTHING to make that happen other than be honest and grateful despite my sadness over my trials.

Lisa was so excited about HER gift, her energy and juju was SO inspiring, that as she was picking up a rental car later that day, her economy car was upgraded to a brand-new sexy red mustang!  So she raced back to the shop to show me, and lo-and-behold I had my own cool new car and we all just laughed and laughed in a big happy family about the crazy fun abundance we were manifesting.

Then, as I was sharing my joy and hopping to new tasks, my sisters were thrilled to join in on the fun, giving me a phone and helmet.  Ripples and ripples of effect, ripples that John and Cindy felt, that Troy and Lisa experienced, that my sisters were able to perpetuate, on and on...

Going for a ride on my new bike with helmet!  Yeah!

And it was all happening because of relatively simple, but heartfelt and loving gestures on everyone's part.  A listening ear, passing around used but still useful resources, words of gratitude and simple tokens of appreciation.  There was no scheming, no master plan, to make this happen, and especially not to make it happen in such crazy, perfect timing.  It was just a ripple - a huge-ass ripple that somehow flowed out to my community and came back to me.  I didn't create it, I received it; they didn't create it, they received it and passed it on and the flow will continue forever, as long as the waters of connection and community are receptive to that marvelous rippling that does nothing but bless us.

That's the Butterfly Effect.

Hopefully, this blog got you feeling excited, and feeling a little fluttering of gratitude and hopefulness.  Hopefully, my words, your reading them, and sharing the possibilities of the power of unity and generosity will pass on a ripple that will reach your life and beyond!  I think it can and will.  I believe it's your turn to also receive!

Spritual Memoir #10: The Winter of my Mormon Mission

For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir
blog series, see THIS post.

Radiant Rider Waite deck

Tarot Card: The Hermit

Card number 9 of the Major Arcana of the tarot. 
(See pics in this post from various decks)

My Interpretations of the Card

"Sometimes the path is to stand outside in the cold and hold up our light, unwavering and unafraid..."

Aha!  Ask and ye shall receive ... I've been wanting to do a Major Arcana card, and mentioned this desire in my last Spiritual Memoir post, and I got it on my very next draw.  Hooray!  Plus, I love the Hermit card!  It's one that I can really relate to (because I'm really a bearded old man ... well, maybe on the inside... :) .

The Hermit has a traditional meaning of seeking truth by taking time in solitude and asking oneself the "hard" questions.  I love that meaning, but today, I'm seeing a different angle for him.  As I look at these Hermit cards I have posted in the blog, I get a sense of the silent drudgery that is sometimes the path for truth-seekers.  Sometimes it's magic and sparkles and dramatic senses of connection and power ... but often, as we are on the path of learning about ourselves and mastering our lives, we stand outside, in the cold, alone, holding up the lamps of truth that only gently light the way. And, the tarot teaches us, that is a relevant and powerful part of the experience.

I love the Hermit card from the Tarot of the Magical Forest (below).  I love the bear - I love the symbolism of the bear fattening up so it can go hibernate in its cave.  But I can't help but wonder why he isn't in his cave yet?  Has he not found it, or is he intentionally weathering the winter without turning his brain off during hibernation?  I get the impression he's deliberately stepping outside of normal bear-ness, and standing in his greater truth: "My mind will stay on, my eyes will stay open, and I will consciously weather this storm."  

Tarot of the Magical Forest deck

In general, in the tarot, nine cards represent solitary ventures, and being with oneself.  Both the nine of cups and the nine of pentacles show individual, independent success; the nines of swords and wands depict individual torment.  True to form, the Hermit as card #9 of the Major Arcana represents the Mother of individual quests: that of facing the dark, cold night in solitude, but with the light of truth ever flickering in hope and subtle warmth.

Spiritual Memoir: The Hermit
As I've stated in previous posts, like THIS one, I never wanted to serve a "mission" for the LDS (Mormon) Church, but did, because I didn't know what else to do with my life.  This memoir will tell you a little about the invaluable experience I had during those challenging 18 months, and how feeling totally isolated and alone in a spiritual and emotional winterland gave me a powerful Hermit experience.

To start, I want to make it totally clear that my experience as a missionary was completely atypical!  Almost every other person I've talked to that served missions scratch their head in amazement at how unusual my experience was from the start.  If you don't know what a Mormon missionary is, THIS LINK will give you a quick rundown.  I went to Santiago, Chile for my mission.  Note, that as a missionary, I spent 18 months with every second of every day dictated to me of how I could dress, who I could and could not talk to, what I could read or listen to, when to wake up and go to bed, etc.  

For some reason, I had the understanding that on my mission, I would basically be hanging out with non-participatory members of the Church only, working to entice them to engage back into a "Mormon" lifestyle.  I had no idea that I was expected to approach strangers on the street and ask them if I could come into their home and teach them my religion.  (I thought that girls didn't "proselytize").  Upon entering the Missionary Training Center, both of my teachers were off of work - one was on her honeymoon, and the other injured his knee.  Since I already spoke Spanish, I was basically there just to learn "how to be a missionary", but without teachers, my little class just sat around and drew Ninja Turtles on the white board for three weeks.  

When I arrived in Chile, I was assigned a Uruguayan companion (whom I had to spend 24/7 with and whose side I could not leave under any circumstances) who did not speak any English, and whose culture was very different from mine.  She told me the first day that we were going to walk up to some guy on the street, engage him in conversation, and ask if he we could come to his house and teach him our religion - and that it was my turn to talk, I had to do the whole thing with her standing silently by my side.  

"No," I said resolutely.  "Absolutely not - I'm an introvert, I don't walk up to random people and talk to them." 

She laughed.  "You'll be doing it every day for the next 18 months.  We have to make 20 street contacts a day between us," she replied.  

"Um, no," I responded.  After a few days of being told by the entire missionary system that my refusal to make street contacts was totally unacceptable (especially in the eyes of God), I prayed for help and started making street contacts.  Each and every time I made one, a little part inside of me died.

Crystal Visions Tarot

Enter my desperate, lonely journey into the cold wilderness of the Hermit.  

After six weeks I was moved to a different part of town, and had a new companion.  To this day we are the best of friends.  It helped to have my constant companion be someone who understood my background and culture.  We still obeyed all of the rules and took our work seriously, and it was heaven to be in the presence of such an awesome person (I LOVE YOU KATIE), and I prayed and prayed and fasted and worked with faith to have some type of understanding of why I hated everything about being a missionary (they say that God will open your heart and give you peace if you do stuff like this).  Nothing happened, and when Katie and I were separated, a bigger chunk of me died inside.

For a year of my mission, I pushed and tried and "let go" and obeyed, obeyed, obeyed.  Every time we invited a person to be baptized a member of the Church and they said no, I exhaled a sigh of relief - I felt like the church just complicated the already challenging lives of the good people we taught.  For a year I wandered in the dark cold wilderness of the Hermit, completely alone, and without any light (meaning: I didn't have the little lamp yet).  In fact, it felt like all others had gone into a safe cave to hibernate, and I couldn't sleep, and found myself completely alone and awake in the dark cave.  After a year, I was assigned to train a new missionary as my companion, a sweet gal from Peru.  In this case, I was supposed to be the strong one, insisting she make the street contacts.  She was afraid to, totally understandably.  But with the responsibility of pushing her falling on my soldiers, I had an emotional breakdown.  I began to have extreme social anxiety, and every day would just wander the streets with her in silence, trying to hold in my tears.  We'd go home for lunch, and I'd tell her I was going to pray in the bedroom, and just bury my face on my bed and sob for as long as I could get away with.

I talked to the Mission authorities, and they said, "Pray more, testify more, have more faith!"  So I did.  And nothing happened.  I never entered peaceful hibernation like the others, I never felt myself safe in the hands of God.  I was aware of my hunger and the painful loneliness of sitting in the dark cave.

Then, one day, while I was studying the scriptural canon of the church, I was praying for anything from God, any word of help/advice, and I flipped open my scriptures, pointed at a random verse and read the LDS scripture of Doctrine and Covenants 124:49.  It reads:

"Verily, verily, I say unto you, that when I give a commandment to any of the sons of men to do a work unto my name, and those sons of men go with all their might and with all they have to perform that work, and cease not their diligence, and their enemies come upon them and hinder them from performing that work, behold, it behooveth me to require that work no more at the hands of those sons of men, but to accept of their offerings."

A bell went off in my head, and I felt the warm loving presence of God in my life.  It was like a warm, glowing lantern appeared in the cave for me.  It couldn't be!  Could my answer come in the form of a light (and not hibernation)?  What was I thinking!?!?  So I picked up a Church magazine that had a General Conference talk (or messages from Church leadership) on missionary work.  I was going to read the talk to pep myself up.  I flipped it open, and the first thing my eyes landed on was a sentence by Gordon B. Hinckley, then President of the Church that said:

"...I wish to say that the First Presidency and the Council of the Twelve are united in saying to our young sisters that they are not under obligation to go on missions...."

I distinctly remember the quote being from a recent conference talk, but as I am researching it for this blog post, it looks like the quote is from 1997 (I was in Chile in 2004-2006).  So I don't know what that's all about.  But this is definitely the quote, because it goes on:

"We do not ask the young women to consider a mission as an essential part of their life's program. Over a period of many years, we have held the age level higher for them in an effort to keep the number going relatively small. Again to the sisters I say that you will be as highly respected, you will be considered as being as much in the line of duty, your efforts will be as acceptable to the Lord and to the Church whether you go on a mission or do not go on a mission." 

--"Some Thoughts on Temples, Retention of Converts, and Missionary Service"
Gordon B. Hinckley, 1997 October General Conference, full article HERE

Maybe what I read was a different talk that said the same thing - I'm surprised this isn't matching up like I thought it would (time-wise).  Anyway...  The next day I was allowed to check my email for messages from my family, and my mom, who is SUPER-DE-DUPER Mormon and pro-mission had written me a message along the lines of, "Honey, I'm worried that you are beginning to destabilize.  I want you to know if that if you decide to come home from your mission early, I'm totally ok with it - I want you to be happy and healthy, and it seems like you're deteriorating into a dangerous space."

Ok, three witnesses.  Three separate cases of me getting the message to GO HOME.  In the Scriptures it says messages from God come from the mouth of two or three witnesses - my prayers had been answered!  I went to my Mission President with the story.  This amazing man listened to my story and replied, "I can't argue with spiritual confirmations like that - let's get this ball rolling for you."  Yes!  Finally!  I felt like I'd taken up the lantern, and left the cave, and was going to brave the cold winter winds with my little light, and find my way to springtime and warmth.

Soon after, he contacted me and said protocol requires I see the mission psychologist.  

Dr. Hurst asked on our first meeting, "What is the problem?"  

"I think I'm not supposed to be here.  I haven't felt the 'spirit of God' since I got here, I hate everything about it - I think it's a big mistake.  I've been 100% obedient and pray every day asking for emotional/spiritual support ... and I feel worse and worse, like a sense of foreboding.  So I work harder, testify more, read more, sacrifice more, and I feel darker and deader inside.  Then, I got these answers that told me to go home.  I think I need to go home."

He didn't know how to respond to that, so he referred me to his boss.

I did telephone conferences with the head missionary psychologist in Salt Lake City, who informed me that I most likely needed to repent of a sexual sin that I was still holding on to.  That was hilarious to me, because I had my first kiss when I was 18, and after a six-month relationship where I lived in Ohio and he lived in Utah the whole time, and absolutely no sexual anything in our relationship, I had never even dated anyone again.  "You're barking up the wrong tree," I told the guy.  "I'm purer than Mother Mary."

My whole life I've had a tendency towards depression (never at that point medicated), but when I took a psychological profile test thing, I tested only 4% for depression - I didn't feel depressed so that made sense.  They put me on anti-depressants anyway though, because it would probably fix whatever it was inside my soul telling me to GET.OUT.  Um ... ?!?!?!

I was still in the wintery wilderness, I was still alone in my mind 99% of the time, cold and desperate and sad ... but I had my lantern.  And the lantern of God's gentle reassurance and love still glowed.  Nothing was putting it out.

All of this took about two months, and I finally started refusing to go out into the streets anymore.  They put me with several different companions, ranging from a senior couple (whom I LOVED) and another young girl missionary like myself who had health problems and couldn't proselytize for that reason (whom I LOVED).  But as time wore on, there was pressure from somewhere (Salt Lake, the Area Presidency?  I don't know from where) to get me back on the streets.

Finally, I told my Mission President that I was going home.  Period.  He told me that he'd arrange it, but as part of protocol, I need to meet with the Area Presidency for an "exit interview."

I met with Elder Carl Pratt.  I told him the same story, glowing in my delight at getting an answer, and feeling peaceful about God finally answering my prayers in a most unexpected way.  Everything was going to be ok - it was all happening for a reason!

Elder Pratt looked at me and said, "I don't know who you think you are, but this story is approaching blasphemy.  A Prophet of God called you to serve 18 months, to proselytize for 18 months.  Get.back.out.on.the.streets."

I was stunned.  "I can't!" I whispered with tears welling up in my eyes.  "I ... I can't!"

"You can and you will.  Stop this nonsense."

"But ... what about my spiritual confirmations?  What about everything I've been feeling and these physical manifestations of God's voice coming to me, through the scriptures and the voice of the Prophet's talk and my mom...?"

He cut me off.  "True spiritual revelation never contradicts what your Priesthood leaders tell you.  I am your Priesthood leader and I say get back out on the streets and do your work.  If you go home now, it will be a dishonorable release.  There is no back door here.  Get back out on the streets."  He excused me from the meeting.

I rushed back to my Mission President and told him everything.  The poor guy was stuck between a rock and a hard place.  He couldn't contradict his superior in the Church, but he also knew he couldn't put me back out on the streets.

I stood strong, in the harsh cold weather, holding fast to my lantern.  I knew what I knew.  And all that was happening was that the cold winds and icy snow were revealing themselves to me as cold and heartless and icy, as compared to the warmth and light of my lantern.

A few days later, my Mission President told me there was an opening in a PR missionary position at Chile's Church Headquarters, and because of my education in marketing he might be able to get me transferred over to the position.  He fought hard for me, and finally Elder Pratt said if I hit all of my numbers for street contacts and lessons being taught for a week - if I went back out on the streets for a week, he'd let me transfer over.  My sweet companion took charge and did all of the work for a week to make sure we hit our numbers.  I was transferred, and worked the last 4 months of my mission in a position that I enjoyed (though I did see a lot of the ugly underbelly of a bureaucratic, man-led religious institution).

In January 2006, I returned home honorably from my mission.  I stayed active in the Church for another six months, and even worked at Church World Headquarters in Utah for a few months, trying to stay loyal to and optimistic about the institution.  But when I realized that spring was popping up in the world around me, and this institution was holding me in a cold, brutal winter, I followed my inner lantern's guidance to the warmth of personal connection to the Divine.

For a few years, I was really bitter about my mission.  Today, I still see how it was a cold and cruel period in my life, but that it was the perfect opportunity for me to see the contrast between the cold silence of institutionalized spirituality and the warm lantern of a personal connection with Divine Source.  It opened my eyes and experience in a way that nothing else ever could.  I, standing completely alone, completely vulnerable, found and held my own light.

Spiritual Memoir #5: My Life is My Creation

For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir
blog series, see THIS post.



Radiant Rider Waite Tarot



Tarot Card:  Four of Wands
(See pics in this post from various decks)

My Interpretations of the Card
"The first-fruits of independently mastering one's creative power"

Ahhh...the first victory of the wands suit - it isn't total fulfillment or seeing something through to completion, but a stability, an achievement.

Wands are interesting cards.  They symbolize the element of fire, and are an active male force (as evidenced by their phallic shape).  Fire represents passion, creativity and to a certain extent sexuality.  They are tied strongly to second-chakra energy.

Fire, passion and sexuality are all exciting things, but it's important to keep them in check, to understand their power to consume our time, attention, and relationships.  For this reason, the four of wands is an important card - because boundaries have been established, and the fire contained to a point of it actually supporting a laurel full of fruits and life.  In the Rider Waite symbolism, two women raise cheers of celebration for the accomplishment of mastery of the fire.  The wands are close to a large city, and the inhabitants look secure and comfortable with the proximity.  I can't help but wonder, though, if the small bridge in the right-hand corner insinuates a stream separates the city from the fire of the wands.  If the town represents our home and lives, our habits, or even the hegemony of the culture we live in, this mastery of passion and creativity has happened outside of the circle of familiarity - it's been compartmentalized but not hidden.  And it is accepted by the townspeople, it is celebrated.

Legacy of the Divine Tarot

In the Legacy of the Divine tarot the four wands create a center of life and prosperity in the midst of destruction and death.  I find it interesting that it looks like everything outside of the wands is burning, since wands themselves represent fire.  It looks like the crystals at the tops of the wands are tempering the fiery heat from the sun to allow life to prosper inside of their perimeter.  Once again, the small victory over fire, the establishment of success and safety using the power of fire.  Beautiful!

Spiritual Memoir: Four of Wands

About two weeks ago (April 2012), I was lying in my bed one afternoon, thinking about how delicious death sounded.  Life just felt ... flavorless, pointless, like a rat race in an endless maze of dead ends and disappointments.  I'd been dedicating my life to "connecting with God" but found myself without the energy to really do more than just hope and think about it, and only on occasion.  It all felt so hard, so pointless, so out-of-reach.  "God," I would pray, "make this better, give me the energy, the strength, the desire to feel like anything in this life is worth pursuing."  In response, I felt nothing.

Exasperated, I went to the A Course in Miracles study group that I lead, and found my good friends Gail and Gary Sauter there.  After some small talk about gardening, I expressed my frustration.  The frustration had been building up for over a month, and these wonderful friends had been privy to my mounting depression, and had always offered insightful, loving support and recommendations.  This time, though, I was done listening to them too - everything seemed terminally hopeful, without ever yielding fruits.

I posted a little about this experience in a previous post (see HERE), so I won't recap everything, but in short, I started reading Conversations with God, by Neale Donald Walsch, and there was a passage that struck me.  I don't have the book in front of me (bah!), but I found this quote from his website that says the same thing as the passage in the book:

"You were created to create - not to react.  

Creation is the highest form of Divinity, and your birthright.  Truth is, you are creating all the time.  The central question in your life is whether you are doing this consciously or unconsciously.  

Conscious creation is what is needed now.  Stop moping.  And stop thinking negative thoughts.  Just get on with it!  Tomorrow awaits your choice as to how its going to be.  Call the shots!  Make it happen!  You're in charge here." (my emphasis)

Here's the epiphany: in my praying and moping, I kept saying "God do this, and God do that - make me feel better, open my vision, fill my heart, etc., etc" ... but this quote made me realize that my life is my creation, not God's.  I call the shots.  I decide how it's going to look.  I am the source of my own feelings, my own vision, my own love, etc.  God cheers me on and loves me, but God doesn't create anything for me - She has empowered me to do that for myself!

Hmm...

A snap decision: I'm going to feel better.  Everything I encounter in life is going to be interesting and mysterious and adventurous for me!  I'm not waiting for anyone or anything to step in ... I'm going to use my creative birthright and make this life how I want it.  Immediately, the clouds dissipated, and sun shone in my heart and mind again.

Tarot of the Magical Forest

Like the four of wands, I decided to harness my creative power, to step out, independent of the city, of God, of culture, of anything, and start building my own world and life.  I like the Tarot of the Magical Forest, where the four wands look like they're the framing for a new house, separate from the main house of the estate.  It isn't about building on an addition to the existing home, to the status quo, to someone else's vision ... but stepping out and beginning the structure of my own experience.  I can go tour their mansion and get tips and ideas, but my life is my mansion, my creation.

Like in the Legacy of the Divine tarot, my creative power will redirect the scorching heat of fire to establishing my own oasis of peace and life.  But I have to channel it - nobody's going to do it for me.

And like in the Rider Waite card, the people from the city, the passersby, are cheering me on.  They aren't afraid of me competing, or withdrawing, but are celebrating that I've come up with my own design for my life.  I am not alone in this, never alone, but I am the foreman (or forewoman as it were), I call the shots.

I'll admit, that I have found myself backsliding here and there into the negative space of feeling life is acting upon me, or stagnant and stuck ... and it's a slippery slope.  But every time I step back into the driver's seat and say, "What if this is actually fun?  What if my life is actually delightful?" the clouds of my mind disappear and everything is bright and interesting again.  I think it's just a matter of habit.  Retraining habits.  And keeping the creative fire working within the four-wanded blueprint I've chosen for it: happy, delightful life.

Spiritual Memoir #4: Leaving the LDS Church

For an explanation of this Spiritual Memoir 

blog series see THIS post.

Radiant Rider Waite Deck

Tarot Card: Eight of Cups
(See pics in this post from various decks) 

My Interpretations of the Card
"I seek love without boundaries, and freedom from codependency"

A lonely traveler walks away in the night from his eight shiny, stacked chalices.  Why does he walk away, and at night - is he sneaking away?  Why leave at all?  The moon witnesses the event with serene neutrality.

Eight is a number that represents creativity and infinity.  The spider has eight legs, and weaves infinite webs of power and wisdom.  The number eight is simply the same symbol as infinity.  Two, eternal circles are joined together to form an eight, so it is a number of joining and uniting.  Cups represent emotions and relationships.  So the eight of cups would represent an infinite and creative aspect of emotional connection...

So .. why is the card depicting something that looks like abandonment?

In the tarot's Minor Arcana, for some reason, the eight cards all look to me like the big, eternal challenge for each suit.  For the eight of cups, I feel like the card speaks of the infinite challenge with emotions and relationships of preventing codependency.  In relationships, and with emotions, it's healthy to take regular breaks, even if things are going perfectly well without them.  It goes back to the old adage  "If you love something let it go; if it loves you it will come back."  (Or something like that).  The counter-intuitive key to eternal relationships is avoiding codependency, to neutralizing the strong feelings every now and then.  I like how the Fantastical Creatures deck looks like some spirit-ladies are passing the cups around, like this flurried whirlwind of emotion.  To me, it looks like emotions are healthiest and most powerful when in motion.  Emotion.  Not stagnant, stuck or "committed" - but fluid, honest and trusting.

Fantastical Creatures Tarot

Also, the greatest love is self-love.  When people truly love themselves, they will automatically experience compassion and respect for others - because the greatness and weakness of others are not threatening, since self-love is the ultimate reassurance.  I feel like the eight of cups also carries an energy of putting oneself first, even if it means leaving behind a perfectly good relationship.  Maybe I'll post about this in a future blog, but I once had a perfectly good relationship that simply didn't feel challenging and fulfilling, so I left it.  Today's post will tell a different story ... :)

Spiritual Memoir: Eight of Cups

I served a Mormon (LDS) mission when I was 21-23 years old.  I lived in Chile for 18 months, and spent every waking minute of every day under a regimented schedule to make me a lean, mean, bible-(bookofmormon)-thumping machine.  We'd just walk the streets all day and ask people if we could come to their houses and teach them about our church.  It was pure hell for me.

I never wanted to serve a mission.  In fact, when I was 18 and my boyfriend decided to go on a mission, I literally said to him in these very words, "If that's what you want, dude.  I would never do it.  If God descended out of heaven and commanded me to serve a mission, I still wouldn't do it."  Then three years later I did.

I decided to serve a mission because I had just graduated from college and had no interest in getting a job or starting a career.  I didn't have any prospects for marriage ... so ... I didn't know what else to do with my time.  "I'll give my life to God for 18 months, and He'll show me the way from there!" I concluded.  Since a mission was the last thing I wanted to do, I figured it would be the ultimate way to connect to God - making a big sacrifice.

It was hell.  It was a terrible idea.

I finished my mission, went home and still had no idea what to do with my life.  Worse, though, I'd spent the last 18 months studying and preaching Mormonism (which I had been raised in), and became pretty certain that the religion had nothing whatsoever to do with the man Jesus, or any of his teachings, and I had way too much exposure to "higher ups" in the religion who were just mean and grouchy old men.

But I couldn't just leave Mormonism.  I lived in Utah, I had a mostly Mormon family, all of my friends and acquaintances were Mormon, and to boot I'd just spent 18 months of my life forging relationships with people based on this religion.  I'd just spent 18 months of my life sacrificed to this religion.  So I kept going to church, obeying all of the rules, and telling myself it would get better.  It didn't.

Maybe it was Utah?  So I moved to California with my friend, and tried going to church out there.  There's this belief in Mormon culture that Utah Mormons are different from other Mormons, and that if you leave the nest you'll find more dedicated and friendly peers.  I didn't.  Institute (religion classes for young adults) was painful, and I kept getting in fights with people.  Church was nightmarish, because asking the "hard questions" landed me in interviews with the local leaders who thought my asking questions was a sign of guilt for disobedience.  So I moved back home to Utah.

I attended a self-empowerment training with some of my family members, which really encouraged me to get honest with myself, and then be honest with the world.  I realized that I wanted God in my life desperately, but that it felt like the religion was getting in the way; but the religion taught that it was my only path to God, so to discard it would put me in a hopeless situation.  What to do, what to do?

Tarot of Dreams

One day, I made my decision.  I said a little prayer: "God, I'm looking for You, and I'm not seeing You.  And I feel like the signal's getting fuzzy because of this religion.  So I'm going to step away from it for a while.  If I don't feel better after leaving, I'll go back.  I hope You can understand, though, that this isn't me walking away from You, even though it is walking away from the only thing I've ever been told represents You."  God had to understand, right?  I mean, I had to know if the institution and dogma were getting in the way of a true relationship with Him/Her/It.  I like this quote from Neale Donald Walsch's website: "Put your foot down on one side or the other, swing the opposite leg over and start walking.  You'll know before you take ten steps if you're going in the right direction."

I was scared, though, because I'd been told that if I stepped out of the church, it would be a long, hard road to get back in, and that I would experience so much guilt and lack and regret for leaving, I would definitely want to get back in - better to never leave and keep it simple.

*GULP*

So I looked at the eight shiny cups, the only source of access to the Divine that I'd ever known, turned, and walked away.  I showed my love for God by walking away from religion.  It seemed counterintuitive, but it actually made perfect sense.  I like the eight of cups in the Tarot of Dreams deck.  On the ground are eight shiny goblets, beautifully arranged.  They're fancy and classy and very appealing.  But the spirit in the card leaves those goblets behind and chooses instead the eight goblets that provide a pathway for higher knowing.  These "stairway" cups are not as fancy, and even a little cold ... but they provide an opportunity, not just a status.  Of course, they lead to the moon, that astronomical body that represents intuition, mystery and forbidden journeys.

Yes, I took a forbidden journey.  I took a different path.  And I walked away from eight neatly stacked cups that represented cultural acceptance, my parent's pride, "righteousness", and myriad other comforting, but codependent things.  The stacked cups of the Rider Waite deck represent to me the institutionalization of emotion and relationships.  Notice that the man leaves the institution behind, but actually comes upon a lake of free flowing water.  Who needs 8 cups when there's a lake at your disposal?!?  Instead of simply drinking the water provided in the cups, the man can bathe, fish and drown himself to his heart's content!  His access to water (spirituality) has become unconditional and unbound.

It's been six years now since I left.  Every single day, I have felt that it was one of the best decisions I've ever made in my life.  And since then, I still get only approving winks from God ... but I get them more often.