After my online retreat experience and ancestral transmissions, this showed up on the camera, which has never happened before. The ancestors are here.
Today as I listened to the ancestors, I felt called to create with a mixture of oil paints, water, and acrylics. I can see the ancestors awaiting (all origins of ancestral energy). 'Ancestors Awaiting' .. but also maybe there is a piece of this that is the ancestors arriving.
The gifts they have given me is this connection to the planets (including Earth) and the star beings. When I really started connecting to this gift early in 2020, a shamanic gave me the gift of a journey. The meteorite was a specific mention in the Upper Realm, and this OOAK piece is an intentional piece to remember always that there is something deeper than the last 500 years, or 5 minutes, that I can connect to as an offering to the world and for myself. Through my writing, art and service, I hope this gift helps others see the ancestors looking at them from all directions, to feel a sense of belonging and understanding.
The part if this diving into the Piscean frequency with all of you, for myself, is the balance of energies that had been presented almost as if to say that everything is within you, and you is the collective of all things. The Saturn-Neptune alignment in Aries (we are experiencing 0° now) marks a major 36-year shift defined by the tension between hope and reality, according to Richard Tarnas. This period typically triggers either widespread disillusionment as fantasies crumble, or the rare, disciplined effort required to turn utopian visions into concrete achievements. Visions becoming reality. Futures becoming Now.
Such a blessing to be a part of. I felt how we are all healing something even if that something is outside of our body, and the alchemy of togetherness is what Aries energy ✨️ of something new. What can be... if we allow the possibilities to arrive? Mars square Uranus today as well ... both sides of this Uranus-Neptune tuning fork of unlimited transmissions ... and Aries says to me, what change is possible is already here. Unbox the possibilities.
The theme for me was remembering where we came from is also creating where we are going. This can come in many forms, but the greatest transmission of remembering can just be sitting with another through space, time, and even internet connection.
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The car . my safe space taught to me as a toddler. My scary place taught to me as a tween. My freedom taught to me as an adult.
Sitting in the car outside of my daughter's school today because she was too tired to drive, talking to my counselor about my massive fatigue the last week from the trauma I have been processing seems sort of funny when you think about it.
This is my academic counselor. It was nice to talk to him about some of what I would like to do in the future. I am thinking I would at least in part like to work with people struggling with addictions. He says they will easily get me into an internship when that part of school happens.
🅃🅁🄸🄶🄶🄴🅁 🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶 🄸🄵 🅈🄾🅄 🄲🄾🄽🅃🄸🄽🅄🄴:
⚠️⚠️⚠️
I don't know what counseling will look like. Gratefully I have a lot of years to address my own healing before then. I am aware, though, that I will likely never be fully healed, and am working towards managing my nervous system and the way it impacts my day to day.
I never realized how broken I was, and yes having fractures in your psyche is a state of being broken apart. Parts of yourself that you can ask to return. Not all parts will .. and integration is a b%&@
I have a complex trauma disorder now diagnosed as Complex PTSD, that I learned at a very young age to mask. My mother, who I still love, is emotionally unavailable, and wasn't a great mother beyond paying the basic bills. I may also be somewhere on the spectrum according to my daughter and her friends. (Would you like to know a fun fact about your microbiota?) I went through a long childhood of ACEs and then was in relationships that normalized punching holes in the walls, breaking things, hitting animals, amd berating and belittling me, slowly breaking me away from friends and family until I was almost completely isolated. I went through periods of deep depression and long periods where I couldn't even work. It wasn't until this year that I have been able to recognize when I become emotionally numb, and when I disassociate and go full on autopilot.
Having kids in my life (all the kids) saved me. It gave me purpose and a reason to have to connect with other humans in a way that I had been unable to do before. Playdates and birthday parties became getaways. Mommy friends became safe spaces. The orchestratas, field trips and PTSA meetings became the things I loved to complain about and yet was so grateful to have. As I got older I had a nice home, and my child was funny and happy, and we vacationed and had family visits, and my social sharing looked beautiful.
What people didn't know is that from age 5, myself and my siblings were left without parents for days at a time. When I was 10 I became the caregiver of the house buying groceries at the Food 4 Less. I was bring beaten by an older sibling until I broke his nose on my 16th birthday and moved into my friend's house for the rest of my junior year. My mom invited my boyfriend of two weeks to move in with us at age 17. Before age 20 I had experienced every ACE.
I had a late term miscarriage and my partner went right back to work and never talked about it again. This was my third lost pregnancy. I went into pre-term labor with my daughter at 30 weeks and was at the hospital three times before being on bedrest the last month. We always joke about how the nurse asked if there was violence in the home as I now know she must have realized something as she moved between us before asking... but I thought if you aren't being hit, it can't still be called violence. My childhood is what I thought violence was. I spent my birthday that year uber pregnant in bed, alone, with no one. I received less that half a dozen gifts for any occasion my entire marriage. This last Vslentine's Day I finallly admitted to that sadness of not being celebrated in love ... Nit ever.
I learned to "take care of myself". Even rigging the $500 VW Bug I found with a 1970s chair cushion back to drive was a less on in tsking care of myself... And the tiny people who were scared of the holes in the floorboards. I had multiple other pregnancy losses, so of course I am blessed that while others never had a full pregnancy, I did and am grateful. She is my breathe. But also love the kids I practiced with.
Yet, when my daughter couldn't breathe at 18 months old it was myself alone that drove her to the ER... yes alone. It was me that started sleeping in her bed when she had panic attacks at age two, and rubbing her belly and feet because of her pain and crying due to what was finally diagnosed as cEDS this year (which we both have). I finally understand what she was dealing with.
Marriage was a repeat of my early childhood, and with no iron stores, chronic pain, and walking on eggshells to keep the peace I lived to escape into mommyhood, science and fantasy. I fully understand the Russian roulette of "if I eat this allergy item, will the ride end." The last ride was Feb 2020 while I was isolated at home, being ignored, and feeling guilty for letting my child see me drunk after I fell of the wagon, again. I was gutted for drinking a half a bottle of rum. I had to self epi twice that night.... imagine if that had gone differently and my child had woke up to no mom with her dad in India and all other relatives many states away. IATA.
And then the pandemic began awful ... I was trapped in a house with a volatile adult and a sad kid. When I did take her anywhere I would either trauma-vomit on people or go sit in my car to decompress, which is a sign that people don't understand (Sorry for those that experienced that over the years).If you've bought my books, know writing was what kept me going through all of that constant state of cortisol. Those books were safe bubbles of sanctuary.
Why am I sharing this??
How long have you known me?
I smile, a lot. I am helpful. I love people. I joke. I laugh. I listen well. I don't ask for much, and in fact almost never ask for anything. I must have a great family being married for so many decades, and such a wonderful kid. I share personal details of my life (but ... wellness related 99% of the time). So I must be okay.
Uh ... guess what??
You never know what someone is dealing with, or what they've been through. You never know when someone is thinking the things that we don't like to talk about. You never know because someone with such deeply conflicted emotions who has believed that they are wrong and that they don't matter... they aren't going to show anyone the crack in that armor. If you know someone that is always "fine" and never asks for anything ... that's not actually a normal thing. Don't seek to be stronger like they are. They aren't actually strong at all, and in one moment you could lose that person because they honestly don't know how to ask. You have to push.
I am four years outside, in the midst of trauma therapy, and seven years into a massive healing cycle. I am so much better at reaching out and asking for support, but it's still limited. I don't often text first, or call, or do more than like a post, because I am still coming out of the shell. I don't know who I am, and I am learning how to feel safe in a world where I show my feelings. If I don't reach out it is because I have been conditioned to remain isolated. If I don't post for a week I am most likely in bed, overwhelmed by my process and my fatigue.
The Universe sent me shamans when I was ready to start seeking outside of myself to the shadows I couldn't see. Amazing blessing to have that show up one day out of nowhere. I am also lucky enough that the angels sent me a therapist who, due to my situation, saw me pro-bono for most of that time. If not for the shamanuc support group I wouldn't have made it through the pandemic. If not for my therapist I would not have made it through the last four years. I recognize that I am a lucky one. God continued through my life to put purpose in front of me in the form of every single one of you that has ever asked for help. Due to each of those moments you showed up needing me, I am actually still here. Your ability to ask for help from the person who can't ask for help ... ironically saved me.
Keep asking. But also look for those that don't ask, don't reach out, are isolated, and ask them : How are you? If they say, "fine" ... keep asking until they speak the truth.
There is a theory called “Structural Dissociation.” It proposes that individuals with complex trauma (c-PTSD) are characterized by a division of their personality into different prototypical parts, each with its own psychobiological underpinnings. The theory says that the parts are divided into apparently normal parts (ANPs) for adaptation to daily living and two or more emotional parts (EPs) fixated in the traumatic experience. The person with C-PTSD has a “manager” that deals with life as usual without even notice how difficult it is to live with a nervous system that is always forcing this high-functioning system.
Truthfully... almost none of you know "me". You know my "manager." I don't know me either. I hope over time more of "me" the integrated whole person will show up and spend time with you. Lets hope and dream together.
As we approach what my friend calls, Love One Another Day, I know how many struggles people and their hearts are having. I feel that we're on the brink.... have you walked away from the past? What was said? My heart heard the following:
The beginning of the end...
Today I walked away for the last time. I'll never see you again. I'll never have that safe space again. The space where I was able to say everything that I had never told another soul. Much of which, I may never tell another soul. I had to leave that safety behind, and the grief is unimaginable.
The tears stung my face as I walked back to my car, wondering if you had watched me leave like you had watched me arrive that day. I had known, deep within myself that this transition was a part of the path ... and maybe even what was needed was to let me go. You knew what I needed clarified, and you gave it to me. I had known all along,
I am an intuitive, and I can see what the elephant in the room was all about. But Spirit also shared with me that karma is realistic and those whom take for there own fruition without concern for the people the are harming, do not get to come out unscathed. Pain when karma cuts slices on both sides, you see.
I know that this end of the year of the Snake, offers all an unwinding... is it for the benefit of the Collective? What is the sacrifice, and what will be the reward?
Maybe this offers an ability to feel all of these feelings ... the ones you could never feel before? Perhaps the ability to be seen, and heard, or heard and forgotten??
What is provisional energy?? Some have never had that. That ... is ... the beautiful place the energy wants to share. The heart of all of this is arriving somewhere.
This season we are being taught what will serve us once we are ready to do this work. Because Gods know that doors that close don't always stay closed, and that is part of this knowing. Ending???? It was a falsehood in many ways, outside of the energy of humanity.
What to keep … what to purge??
This month took almost everything I had left to brace with. I lost a long-time therapist, my body flared in ways that reminded me how fragile I can be, and mediation closed the door on a marriage that had already been over, but not yet grieved. Some endings don’t arrive loudly. They come quietly, one after another, until you realize the life you were still half-living no longer exists.
As Christmas arrived, the grief sharpened. I can see a future holiday where I may be alone. The men that were bits of my life, and once cared for have drifted into their own lives. The only message I received came from someone who is now engaged, someone I never approached, perhaps because some part of me knew that chapter wasn’t meant to open. It felt like confirmation that the final threads of who I am were being cut.
This is what no one tells you about endings is thay they don’t just take people or roles or routines. They take identity. They take imagined futures. They take the self who once believed there would always be someone on the other side of the table. I’m letting myself feel that loss, not to dramatize it, but to honor it. Because grief is not failure. It is proof that something real was lived, loved, and now must be released.
See the gates, etc. over on Substack
I recently shared hpw trying to just exist in 17 seconds (how long perception takes to land) because 90 seconds is how long it takes for an emotional wave to happen. What happens to women, unfortunately, is that we're often shamed for having emotions even when they are a part of the healing process. Women get defined with Borderline Personality Disorder often due to these views, which I've written a lot on in my recent coursework that intersects with my life.
Allowing for that space to connect on the path of the past and to the future in a different approach to time in terms we can use the Buddhist Abhidharma chart. This is of interest as Buddhist philosophy not only aligns with Einstein's relativity theory that says time is empty, but in using this charting of the Buddhist teachings aligns the 17 moments of Consciousness to brain pattens on scans looking at perception. This shows a temporal sequence of brain activity for thermal painful stimuli determined in relation to anticipated peak for the stimulus (vertical line at 10 seconds from stimulus start) and actual reported peak of pain perception (vertical line at 17 seconds). The Abhidharma framework posits that every instance of perception is fundamentally composed of three elements including the sense organ, the sense object, and the resulting sense consciousness. In early Buddhist thought, the connection between this triad was understood through the principle of dependent origination. This causal explanation is challenged by the emerging theory of momentariness. Since this theory holds that the sense organ, the sense object, and the sense consciousness are all momentary entities, the fundamental philosophical question becomes: How can the causality linking these three be maintained and explained? The belief is that when that one moment of matter arises and perishes during that period 17 seconds, 17 moments of thought arise and perish together. Nothing is permanent, and nothing the nothingness is in many was a way to say, “Nothing needs to mean anything right now.”
This is not dissociation. It is suspension of interpretation. This is not erasing memory. This is declining to activate it.
I want to start by speaking to impermanence. What is impermanence? Everything changes. As I looked at what I wanted to use for my final project, what feels like extreme changes within my life was calling me. In Buddhism, impermanence is taught as this great teacher where though the changes, and losses that we flow through, rather than continuing to flow in the river, we try to cling to the slimy rock, which is our obstacle. We believe that each moment, each joy, each love, each body is meant to last forever.
Anitya, impermanence is always present in our life from the first moment that a life is sparked within the womb. If we look more into the transcendent aspect, that which is going to create you, that ova or the central nucleus that contains the female’s genetic material that will become you was once within your grandmother as your mother was forming that will be all that she carries at her time of birth. We have already changed so much before you are even born. You cannot go back into the womb in this lifetime. In research published in Genetics, Dr. Joseph H. Nadeau, principal scientist at the Pacific Northwest Research Institute, found evidence that suggests the egg may choose which sperm to fertilize it.
If we think of Bodhisattva, the Prajnaparamita, we are taught that it is that infinite emptiness of profound wisdom, in that gap of illuminated wisdom, in space, we start the transformation of the relationship between impermanence and suffering. This is that which allows us to make friends with our ego, as to live we have ego. It is a part of our genetic nature. However, Shantideva has said, "Without coming into contact with the inherent thing, one cannot comprehend the emptiness of that thing." It brings me back to the egg. That egg is not going to become an embodied soul without coming into contact with a sperm, of it's choosing. That emptiness, perhaps even that soul, is choosing to create an embodied life and forget for a moment how divine it truly is.
It then becomes like a bubble that is riding on the river of life. Within it resides that galaxy, and yet it chooses to interact with the river of life, hitting rocks, and rapids, and finding itself connected to other bubbles that are created by the waves. If it is lucky enough, it lets go of the journey through the water and starts to explore within, remembering the galaxy that exists within it. Moment by moment, remembering that your true existence is not "me". In the Diamond Sutra, life is compared to a bubble floating in a stream. Maybe our true life is lived before we choose embodiment, or maybe it happens after we choose to stop accepting embodiment, or maybe it is this void where we learn to accept embodiment.
I created a version of life that could be all of the above, this bubble floating in the stream. Created from the decomposition of animals and plant based organic surfactants into the water, called dissolved organic carbon (DOC). This DOC interacts with the moving water which causes tiny air bubbles to form. Air, vāyu, the movement and motion of creation. In my practice of shamanic teachings Air is the upper center of through, and knowing. Yet this bubble has also become solid because of the pṛthivī or earth element, and the āpas water elements. What remains is the tejas of fire, heat and warmth. Tejas comes with life, and is a masculine energy if you look at most teachings, and yet Eros, which is the great cosmic fire, Buddha expressed as being divinely feminine. Life is the union of these two, but only if we choose it. When we do, we are created by all of these aspects of the galaxy within us. Yet, we become a part of this world. Once we do at any time life can burst and move back into the stream of consciousness, and we see this through the moments of impermanence that every second bursts away, and the bubble keeps moving until it is no more. Even the bubble is not permanent.
I am the bubble, right now. Some of the decay that I am colliding with creating bubbles around me I may not want to see, but yet it is being seen through a lens of what I experienced upstream. The salmon that was born and came back to die, the organic materials of the oceans far beyond myself. It is all there. My work is to let the galaxy from beyond my construct of time create an ability to let all of it go, and just allow the past, the current and future to flow onward. Seeking to embrace that change is the eternal flow of embodied life, and through that find the Sun/Fire that will spark the joy in my heart. Creating this painting was so therapeutic as I realized that part of the beauty of the bubble is like the painting. This emotion that I had right now painting, it too, will change. Everything changes, and so we
(me) are always flowing with Impermanence. And until I am ready to process everything that is going on, I'm just going to rely on the 17 seconds. It's all that is, and all that "matters" for now.
And upcoming the release:
17 Seconds
17 Seconds
"In a moment when the bomb hit
When the child felt the shake
There inside the systems
She was violently awake
She locked eyes with the devil
And she understood his heart
A forgiveness that she gave up
Won't let the blood discharge
In the moments after separation
When the girl was not aware
There inside the systems
He was told not to care
He locked deep into the mirror
And he understood his heart
A forgiveness that can't be given
When the knowledge sounds the alarms
Wars of indecision
Wars of lines and truth
No one here can win
Bombs destroying the blooms
Wars against the ancient ways
Wars against past lives
No one here will win
Because inside they both have died
In the silence after sirens
When the ground won’t let you sleep
There inside the system
All the memories still seep
She carries all the children
He carries all the scars
Two ghosts taught how to function
By surviving endless wars
Wars of indecision
Wars of lines and truth
No one here can win
Bombs destroying the blooms
Wars against the ancient ways
Wars against past lives
No one here will win
Because inside they both have died
Between the scream and the echo
Between the wound and the name
Someone taught us obedience
And called the silence faith
Hands raised to empty heavens
Eyes fixed on the knife
Waiting for absolution
But never found inside
In the quiet after reckoning
When the smoke begins to clear
There inside the system
Something else stark appears
Not a victory or savior
Not a rise or sacred scar
Just a voice noted in papers
17 seconds and then we're gone
Wars of indecision
Wars of lines and truth
No one here can win
Bombs destroying the blooms
Wars against the ancient ways
Wars against past lives
No one here will win
Because inside they both have died"
- BΛRBIΞXX (c) 2025
Static // BΛRBIΞXX (c) 2025
Static and I can't see
The wrong turn got ahold of me
I wander into where you are
But there's something that just won't let me go
Tried to walk away from here
Yet I can't get beyond the fear
I call your name and then I fall
When I'm drowning no one hears me call
I don't know how to change
There is another place
But it won't do
It takes a bite out of the best of me
I know that sounds a little underneath
It just can't let me go
Locked me into its soul
But I'm not here
I cannot inhale the waters under there
Static and I can't go
Stuck within this body hold
I wish there was another place to be
I just wake up without a source of me
Tried to just surrender here
Letting go of what else could appear
It bites down harder when I fight
I tried to run but I don't know how to climb
I don't know how to change
There is another place
But it won't do
It takes a bite out of the best of me
I know that sounds a little underneath
It just can't let me go
Locked me into its soul
But I'm not here
I cannot inhale the waters under there
Static stops the lullaby
Calling from the other side
I press my ear against the cold
Stuck to the stories I'm being told
The quiet pulls me underground
Where every bone remembers sound
A haunted choir humming in my chest
A warning that I’ll never fully rest
I don’t know how to change
It falls through locked up chains
It takes a bite into my peace
Dragging down whatever’s left of me
It still won’t let me go
Keeps pulling at my soul
And I’m not here
I’m sinking into the water when its under here
- Barbara Christensen
And that's what it feels like....
