I got done writing my last entry, got out of bed, and stretched. I reached up on tippy toes, something I never do, and visualized a trapeze bar above me. And then I heard them say, "OK, you realize that there will now be a test."
I laughed, said, of course, and got dressed.
When I opened my door I found a court thing saying I owe money for rent. Funny. I spoke with them twice just last week, and no one said I was in arrears. I don't pay attention to my rent balance because I have a benefactor who is paying rent for me. Imagine my surprise.
On the way up to my ex husband's house to pick up my son, I went through the old thought patterns, applying this new information to an old, all too frequent occurrence in my current reality: I am financially struggling, not working enough, etc.
First I beat myself up, telling myself that I am a loser, unable to make it in this world. The world is hard, I am soft. The world is big, I am little. The world is mean, I am kind.
Blah blah blah.
Then I listened.
I heard: You no longer have to assume that the future will be like the past. You can create from a future place, and assuming you will have in front of you the same hurtful, awful experiences as you once did in nursing, working in community with people who you found harmful, well, that time has ended. You have set up a series of cosmic 2x4's, because you are scared that you cannot handle the old reality with this new knowledge. You have amde incorrect assumptions. Creating reality from these fears is not pleasant. The past is over. You can function in any environment now. Yes there will be bumps and things may not be simple, but to believe that you will be victim again is just not taking in all the data.
So there you go.
I will be looking for a new gig. I have set this up now in such a way that the only solution is a steady job. Temp work will not satisfy the debts I have incurred.
I guess the only thing that is different is that I feel strangely more confident, more competent, while all evidence is to the contrary.
The understanding I was given this morning is one that is structural, the ghost in the machine. But now I must don my overalls and get my hands greasy with the machine's oil, with its blood. I will demonstrate due diligence. I will obediently clean up the messes I have made. But I will do so without the fear which used to plague me. I can now fix these problems more dispassionately, because my WORTH is not tangled up in the outcome. It is yet another chore, another piece of work I have called into my life to love into wholeness.
I understand that the story is whole and complete.
But I have stepped down from that high summit, and now I will apply myself to my mundane, three-dimensional life. I will walk with more joy, less worry, but with great seriousness and great humor. Whether I make my bills or not, I am intact. But I wish to show respect to all, self included, so I will tend to my life with greater care.
It is hard to fix something which, by virtue of it being sitting there, broken, makes me feel defeated, something which I think proves how unfixable it is. It SHOULD be functional. It SHOULD be easy.
Yeah, yeah yeah. But it is not. These are remnants of an old reality. It is my invitation to apply my new ideas.
I am back in school.
