Monday, December 20, 2010

THE GOOD SON from Delve into Twelve

My addiction was ill affording a man of my privilege. Of my parentage.

My drug use was an embarrassment to my mother, an insult to my father, and a distraction to my future. I refused to conform, dropping out of school and leaving the nest to catch up with manhood on my terms. No Ivy League degree, no private practice with Dad after Medical school, no grandchildren for my Mother.

My rebellion was borne of boredom, the boredom coming from such privilege throughout adolescence. I had been able to duck and dart for years, avoiding punishments to my detriment throughout my boyhood. Fostering a sense of entitlement, my father also groomed me to understand I would carry on his legacy, which seemed stifling and unnecessarily selfless. Medical school was contrary to my lack of ambition. I avoided responsibility under the guise of “finding myself.” My father’s illness mandated my return to the riches.

What was my plan? That was a good question.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Looking for Love in all the wrong places.....again.

As we shook hands, she smiled at me a bit warmer. I had graduated, and my teacher held my gaze and hand as I thanked her upon completing my second attunement. Others milled about, and Ronda again approached me and asked if I had a moment alone.


I gushed for a few about how I was more normal now, how Reiki was moving my chakras in the right direction and such, yada yada. I was deeper, kinder and more honest & shit. She looked deep at me, and as I shook her hand, she HELD mine. It felt closer. I got cold, and SCARED.

”What are you looking for?”

I continued my sales pitch, highlighting how my job skills now would be so worthy as well as effective now that my Chi was all flowing & such.

She pressed, with her hand now closing over mine in mid shake. She began to tell me she herself had discovered her own abilities as a CLAIRVOYANT when she was a child. She divulged she was not only Reiki Queen of teachers, but also a practiced INTUITIVE. She was open to receive all methods of intuitive information daily, and as sensitive to others exclusive energies she was, it was impossible to deliver every single urge and impulse she was inundated with as she went about her day. It was on rare instances, she delicately shared with me, that she actually moved on information and not only deciphered what the messages were, but to then go about delivering said “clues” to the unsuspecting. She stopped me mid-Queen story, clearly not taken with my sudden self actualization and sales pitch.

“No, let me re-phrase that. WHO are you looking for?”

Who? I realized this was not a job interview. She knew something, and of all the skeletons and secrets sputtering about, I knew what SHE was going to know. The Bio-pop story. She was not to be challenged, and she had info direct from the universe, more credible to me than DNA-which I tend to afford its reliability.
She was in as far as I was concerned.

“Oh, come on, it’s no one,” I smirked when she asked again who I was looking for. Tears welled, and my usual verbal barrage was stuck, unable to move past the heartbeat pounding up against the rising lump in my throat. I felt sadness a second before I could stop it.

The BIO thingy. AGAIN. As compelled as I was to resolve this missing puzzle piece of my life, I meet the issue with frustration. I refuse to let all my divine existentialism be summated into a “little girl lost” defense, much less resort to suffering from lost daddy syndrome. I will just die if it turns out all my efforts actually do sum up to the search for a man.

“No, that is where you incorrect. My dear, on the contrary. He is the MOST SOMEONE someone could be. That is why you cannot FIND who it is you KNOW is there. He cannot be named, for who he is, nameless as it may be-is SOMEONE so critical to the happiness of everyone that he MUST stay unknown."