Ahhh the Sylph. The beauty. I used to take spiritual sustenance and often, run-away safety, at the beach. Like the long walks on Nantasket Beach in Hull, Massachusetts. In its heyday, Nantasket was a thriving year round carnival. That had long been washed away by the time I walked its beaches. Always alone.
Then by 2003 my step-son had finally reached the age of 18. It took another year to muster up the courage to leave the abusive alcoholic drug-addicted ex-husband (demon) after he had attempted to murder me in a blacked-out rage. They both ganged up on me and made the whole marriage hell. They hated me. I felt I deserved it, to stay that long. (Hey, my step daughter had put her foot on mine in the beginning, looked up into my eyes, and pleaded me not to leave.) Sucker. The Quincy Courts and Weymouth Police Department both recommended I get (the hell) out of Massachusetts entirely, leave the state, as I intended to protect my ex-husband's two kids from their father stalking me: ex-husband was one charge away from a stalking charge, and hard prison time. His son joined in on their torturing me. However, I was not going to allow my existence to be responsible for he undoing himself. So I left for his kids.
I left everything there, a career, friends, a beautiful home rented from now my mother having lost my father in '93. Gut-wrenching to leave my old stomping grounds and the snotty blue-blood streets of the ongoing occupied colony known as Boston. Kind of miss that mean, bitchy, beautiful city, in a sad way. I miss access to the beaches the most. But I had to lose everything, yet again. I ended up in NH, acquiring a camp with my mother through her predatory lenders of choice. Still living through the hell of losing that beloved camp. I couldn't get it up to get my first mortgage, alone was my mother's orders. Then my mother raised my rent $200 more to $800 when I lost my job during the latest great economic depression crash against the people. Hey, she needed more money for her wasteful Miami Beach lifestyle, and the self-destructive rampage she perpetrates on her own health and spirituality. She refuses to speak to me for 3 years by now. A excruciatingly painful blessing. I forgive her.
Much harder to forgive myself. Hey, I have this incredible will to survive, a double-edged sword. Yay.
In the Upper Valley, I learned to look to the mountain vistas for that solace, for that elusive, fleeting feeling of freedom. Once a wonderfully brave and kind friend hiked to Mount Moosilauke with me, on the western edge of that range. I could not afford to hike the mountains in general and had no appropriate companionship to continue to do so with, and was afraid to go alone. So I would see the vistas from my commutes, and from freedom-thrill solo driving trips, looking for the dangerous kindness of magical waterfalls to swim in the summer, (breathtaking), and to gaze into during the brutal winters. Alone heaven.
These days I look to the Great Rift for visual and spiritual solace. The Milky Way, the Earth's mother, is beyond the suffering of this beloved planet. Why. Why does humanity have to suffer? It is totally unnecessary. It is the product of satanic occupation. Damn evil parasitic greed to the Black Hole, to the very womb, of Granny Milky Way. Perhaps Granny can dispatch this evil to Pluto, for destruction, and regeneration/healing.
In the late 50s, early 60s my father had been working for arch evil S.H.A.P.E., the military arm of NATO when my mother got her vicious, greedy money-grubbing vampiritic hooks in to him. She got pregnant to lure him into marrying her. Hey, they were both acting out their parents' and their own generational running-from indentured servitude, Nazi war and poverty. I forgive them, but Yuk. Being born to them was hell. Survivor's guilt: at being alive.
But I still despise much of my inner child because of my upbringing. My mother was ignorant of the horrors of Dad's vocation, escaping into fiction, she just wanted more, more, more. Ca-ching... $ Let's move again...who gives a shit about the kids education or welfare...Yup, we moved a lot and we got bullied a lot, especially me as the older sibling. typical. The terrors especially of the Concord, MA and Brookline, MA public school systems. Princess? Princess this. Hell should not be for children and other living things...
I now question the whole astrological school of thought where souls choose who they incarnate to. Huh? Was I such a BEAST in past lives that I feel my current life was forced on me, to come back to this mess of suffering and environmental destruction, to those parents? And to serve or suffer.
Here I am, on and on in my mind's eye eye go, continually compelled to survive, struggling against my genetically inherited and spiritually kharmic demons, on my usual unwilling warpath to destroy everything I try to love, everything I attempt to do, in my personal life. Why...? Hell on earth. Self-sabotage. My legacy? I reject that, this is not meant to be, or for the greater good. Write for money? That would take self-esteem. And the poverty I've fallen into just gets worse with age.
Yet here I am again, looking down another abyss of losing yet another home, another love, (!!!NO!!!) to my own self-destructive choices, the ravages and trap of PTSD (from infancy on,) bipolar illness, autism spectrum and social anxiety that was never properly diagnosed, (evidently, thanks, Daddy) and subsequent self-hatred. I am probably struggling with personality disorder, evidently: thanks, mom. Poor woman. Sorry I exist, for your sake, 'little mum'. But I do, and it's on you, old girl. Love you. Hang in there. And as always, I pray for you, mother, to heal thyself.
Some Solace and Universal Love for ALLSo, I look to the Green and White Mountain ranges from yet another petro-fueled vehicle poisoning the air, oceans, and never able to drive myself, but most importantly unable to hike them. Ouch.
But especially my heart and soul drifts to the Great Rift...day or night, lately to the tunes of Robbie Robertson and The Red Road Ensemble (Words Of Fire, Deeds Of Blood) in particular has been stuck in my head for this last week. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iDt2GzSTUeU more You tube...Robbie Robertson Vevo
- Robbie's prose in the song In The Blood...
- Crosby Still and Nash, Dark Star (1977)
- The wisdom of Keisha Crother, Little Grandmother...and her wisdom of the inclusive book Tribe of Many Colors
- Ida Lawrence, Surrender to a Rescue
- Chautauqua Hunter, Augureye Express, Breaking Free From Ego