The Infinite Roar

Earlier this week a friend wanted to know and asked the title of my favorite film.

It's an everyday, run-of-the-mill, normal question. I answered, and we exchanged a little further and that was it. We were sharing; just something friends do. However, this inquiry, it opened a closet in the dwelling of my chest that carries my heart.  And from behind its door shone a flickering, erratic beam of light. I was awake for a long period of time that night, staring at the wall, immersed in the projection of fractured radiance, displaying (in my mind) the movie of my life.

Through conception and birth, childhood and young adulthood, I didn't flinch.  Then I arrived at the pinnacle montage scene; reflecting upon the most salacious decade of my existence. There were NC-17 rated snippets of emptiness and pain; shades and nuances of twisted romance and one-sided affection. I was an object to a man, who willingly stated as much, quite often, for over 10 years.

(For instance, "I will still want you on the side, even when I'm 50 and on my fourth marriage." Vomit.)

And from that image I was back to my soft light. I wondered why.  How could I place myself in exile for so very long; so far removed from my values and what I truly believed gave me joy and pleasure?

I put my head to my pillow, shutting my eyes, then opening them.  Now I was staring at my wooden box on the small table next to my bed.  This contains my Chrysalis Tarot cards. I lifted the lid. I knew there was a card wherein the very word "exile" was used in its description and meaning. I removed the deck, sifted through the cards, and quickly remembered which character was the point of my search.

It was the 10 of Scrolls.

In the guidebook, Toney Brooks explains "Our somewhat bewildered tiger is held captive by a negative cycle related to an important lesson. This lesson needs to be learned before the cycle can end." Further down the page the guidebook reads, "Such patterns are usually fueled by negativity. In other words, negative behavior is like a magnet that attracts itself." (p45)

I understood what was stated pertaining to this card, the 10 of Scrolls and the concept of repeating cycles and negativity being a magnet. I had the power to walk away. I had the choice to leave the situation. There were no chains or prison cells.  Mournfully, I ignored the dozens upon dozens of red flags that demanded I run the other way. I destroyed friendships and burned bridges during the involvement. Years later I even suffered through a horrific emergency C-section, nearly dying on the operating  table, bearing my heart, my only child; a bright, beautiful boy, fathered by this man.

I "knew better" in terms of this involvement.  As a matter of fact, I often thought to myself, "Oh, this affair will run its course. I'll meet someone new, as I always do. And that will be the end of it."
With this distorted logic and viewpoint, naturally I did NOT "meet someone new."  I should have learned to just "be" (alone). Remaining in a clandestine bond with this man only attracted more individuals who were similar, or just like him. This instilled in me an extensive array of falsehoods regarding human connections and inaccurate mental portrayals of (unconditional) love, genuine kindness, and fulfillment; a vicious cycle, which I then carried into my motherhood.

I held this card in my hand. I looked into the tiger's eyes. I felt the itchy pace of the bamboo encasement.

On the day the erratic beam of light protruded from my heart in the nighttime, my ex-boyfriend tried contacting me through every facet of social media and telephonic communication possible.

"Why won't you talk to me?" he asked. 
"I need information about J (our son) for insurance purposes. . . . "

And then the clincher of a trigger word was displayed on its own line for concluding each text, email, and chat message:

 "...Please."

"Please...I need you" is something I have turned my back on.  The thought always lingered in the back of my mind, "Our needs are so conflicting."

It is actually disturbing how paramount the topic of sex and all things sexual were to him. It was all-consuming.  And before long, it even plagued me, like a massive tumor, drowning my organs of perception. It took up so much time; the messaging, the phone calls, the texting, everything.

I knew by this hour in the night why the evening conversation about film sparked a strong sense of emotion and cracked me open.  It was because this newer friend recognized me as a person.  A woman, yes; but a human being and a soul, first and foremost. There were no special terms in desiring to learn this minor detail of my general likes. This friend has not asked me anything about my anatomy or what article of clothing I am wearing or for a "realtime" photo, which is so easy to produce, as modern devices allow for such instant gratification. This kind of friendship, completely absent of lascivious intent, is a welcomed comfort.

So I come back to this "challenge" of ignoring The Ex.  And I did, in fact, ignore him -- am continuing to dismiss him. This is something that must be done. I emphasize this because it is something I have never done.

A few months ago, I took a phone call from him. We exchanged pleasantries, and, for a second, I fooled myself into thinking it would actually be a "regular" conversation until he asked me a question about my vagina. To him, what he mentioned, he thought was flattering and/or complimentary.

I exhaled a heavy, despondent sigh at hearing his "question." My silent pause sunk deeper into the black.

"What?" he asked.

I replied in a calm, quiet voice.  "That is not what I want to be known for in life." To which he then responded, "But that's what you ARE!"

I hung up.

Being "The Best Orgasm" is not a compliment. Being called your "Favorite P" (the entire word, in fact) is not flattering. And anything remotely close to those kinds of remarks are most definitely NOT who I want to be or who I am. And it's not who I ever was. . .

About a week later he lost his job for fraternizing with a woman at work.  To be honest, I will probably never know the full details  But the way he so casually told me the story -- talking about how he "thought she was going to be so cool to work with because they discussed threesomes and how she enjoyed casual sex and how he was so shocked that she turned him in," I really had no idea what to say to any of that.

My son lost his health insurance. And this also meant the money he gave "when he could" stopped as well.

I didn't care about sex anymore. And even though we hadn't been intimate in a while, he was still talking about it, pursuing it with me. Always pursuing sex.  I didn't want to hear the word. I didn't want to think of it. And if I would think of it, it conveyed a feeling of burden. It was ugly. It was shameful and problematic. It made me feel crazy, and it made me incredibly detached.

Sex should not be reduced to any of these things. It is a beautiful consecration of the source of life. It is sacred and potent and glorious. It is an act of love. It is an act of light. It is an act of gentle wonder. I know this and believe it.

I watched a video in late May of this year. It was produced by a wonderful spiritualist, Christopher J. Smith. In this video, he spoke about everything that was tearing me up inside. He emphasized the magnitude of sexual energy and how it can become counter-productive if used for strictly physical release, instant gratification, or empty sensation.  (I'm paraphrasing.) However, if you feel the need for such activity, but would like to channel through caring ways, it can be harnessed for positive creative endeavors, mental and spiritual nourishment, and accomplishment.

This was right in line with what I had known but ignored for many years. For example, I stopped writing poetry. I stopped caring about things I held dear.  I even pulled a cloak over my faith, as this person embedded in me, through his own religious beliefs, that I was some kind of lustful, sinful siren or a sexual force who delighted in being a nymphomaniac.  Ridiculous.

I won't deny that I believed I loved this person with all of my being, subjecting myself to moments of instant gratification and sometimes humiliating endeavors just to maintain my illusion of closeness to him.  I understand, now, my ideas of love (particularly romantic love) had essentially become diseased. And I must not indulge the notion, his idea that I possess the traits of a sex addict. I believe that is what one may call projecting.

I gave and relinquished so much of my precious energy to this person that I became drained; emotionally, physically and spiritually. I began trying to heal myself, but I was not implementing very useful methods. Thankfully, someone heard my soul crying out and reached for me. That synchronistic, miraculous encounter occurred one week after I watched this video.

I felt encouraged by the comforting, educational words Chris spoke in that clip. Sexual energy is that of creation. I thought to myself, "I can create anything I want."

Maybe, just maybe, with that reactive thought to viewing this, I manifested guidance, the true example I needed to point me in the right direction.

So I have much gratitude for the man who uploaded his viewpoint. If I had not seen that video, I may not have yearned for a better path. And that path led to my work in forming a better ending for my life's story.

The Ex is working again. I have formally filed for child support, making everything legal and consistent for my son. I can't evade this person forever, personally and socially, but I have just stepped out of detox. I've been sweating out the vapor of delusion. I have forgiven myself and accepted my goodness.

When the time comes to implement my tools, I will offer peace with this person. I don't think he is a monster, as he believes I portray him. We are just one of the worst vibrational matches known to man. We each have goals to accomplish in bettering ourselves. I only wish for us to have dignity, accountability, and respect; separate, evolving, individual and strong.

It was very challenging trying to write this blog entry. I walked away from it so many times. But I am trying to live in my truth. And even though the relationship is over, I am still picking up the debris from the storm my poor choices created.  I'm self-emptying.

Sometimes my relatives will still remark, "You wasted the best years of your life on this man." But I don't think that's true, especially now. I think I still have the best days, months and years ahead of me.

Yesterday I hoped to finish writing this.  I pulled a card to inspire me.  My draw was The Dreamer:

 

"The Dreamer symbolizes mystical experience..."

"His energy, symbolized by the leaping tiger, is boundless. His charm brims with the hopefulness and desire to dream the impossible dream."

 

Not only does it show the Tiger, leaping (applied to me, from that cycle/circle of exile) but the whole concept of the card is along the lines of what Chris advised about channeling the sacral energy and putting it into something remarkable and grounding.

 

The final sentence in describing this card reads "Thoughts and dreams represent energy the Dreamer channels into real-life experiences."(p51)

 

I truly hope to accomplish such remarkable things.

And as for my favorite film, it is "Picnic." It was originally a play. It's about a drifter who returns to his sleepy hometown on Labor Day. He falls in love with the prettiest girl in the area. She laments and confides in him "how she hates to only be looked at."

And while this young lady, Madge, is portrayed by Kim Novak, who I certainly am not, I share the same discomfort in being objectified.

After all, I am a woman. I am a Dreamer. I am a Tigress.