Previously on…
I started writing a book of essays. Later, I made out with Kim Kardashian, saw Santa and ate paste, all within dreams. There began a phase of increased creativity and Pilates. I announced on this small blog that I would be apartment-hunting. My chocolate Labrador friend Pluto seems to have a crush on me while I have a crush on a being who’s over 600 years old. Also, I'll talk briefly about how I communicated with a plant.
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As planned, I moved out of that apartment.
For a while after that, I debated with my Higher Self about whether I should write this or just give in to my embarrassment and delete both previous posts about leaving a flat during a state-wide lock-down because I am embarrassed. I’m not a famous online influencer, so it’s not like I have a big audience to whom I should explain myself, but I left a cliffhanger for over two months…and perhaps assumptions have been made by some readers, which I can understand. I've decided to explain in order to simply acknowledge the position I put myself in as a blogger, but also because this could serve as a good lesson for not only myself but other beginners to intuitive development; the latter was the biggest factor in agreeing to publicly address the next chapter of the story, as per my Higher Self’s request.
I did intuitively receive a message requesting that I leave that address behind, but after that, I misinterpreted some important things. Please bear with me when I say that I don't know what apartment my Higher Self wanted me to go for next, and if I did have that answer, I not only would have acted on it at the time, but I would provide it for you now; The only reason why I'm clueless today is because, as my Higher Self and I both know, I would use that information to further burden myself with guilt/shame/general negativity, and as you can imagine, I can't afford to make that negativity any worse right now. The plan is to meditate and practice Reiki daily, always on others, sometimes on myself, apartment-hunting with high hopes and job-hunting with frustration. I agree with meditation coach/author/smart speaker Emily Fletcher when she says in interviews - and I'm paraphrasing here - that leaving the house without meditating should be like leaving the house without brushing your teeth. That attitude suits me very much. I meditate soon after waking each morning and certainly before driving because I prefer feeling like I've properly reminded myself of my priorities.
If you, too, are developing your intuition, please note:
This early on in development, a person should double- and triple-check
regarding major decisions. Connection-with-Higher-Self stuff is real
and so beneficial but, as Christine Pavlina said in one of her videos,
that connection is like a muscle, and obviously I have a lot of work to
do on mine. You and I each can get so much better at understanding our
Higher Selves or asking questions of dead people, the god source, angels
or the succulent you keep in your living room. D'ya hear me, David and Barbara Green? We can legitimately receive messages and misinterpret them with big, dumb results.
Having that big plan of moving during a quarantine not work was a blow to my life in a couple of ways, especially when I missed an opportunity and ended up going with the worst case scenario that a friend had suggested I choose when I first gave her the news, so I'm writing this post from someone else's house, with a laptop sitting on a stack of two pillows. Tonight, I'll hand that other person cash for the items they bought at my request while on their standard grocery run. Exercising fits into this house just fine, because it happens in the basement, the cool temperature a respite from heat outside, though I can't stray from my yoga mat without bumping into bins and boxes of stuff, two fake pine trees that reach up to my shoulders and lots of spiderwebs.
I love that I have
a place to stay
for free
where I'm safe in every physical way
and it helps that I'm forced to confront and break a couple of dumb, selfish habits I forgot I'd developed after Shauna the shithead moved out of our old place. For example, imagine that there's enough of that watermelon and cucumber dish in the fridge to fill one small bowl, and the leftovers are sitting in a big enough container to take up too much space in the fruit drawer, sitting beside a bag containing about ten blueberries that probably went bad yesterday. "Hey Shannon! Don't nobody need this! You shouldn't get on a roommate's nerves with something so inconsequential!" After all, I'm an invader who's quite fortunate to have had a good crash pad. I have a safe place to park my car and a separate place to sleep that is also quiet and comfortable, next to a vintage wooden vanity on which I put my copies of Rupaul's Guru, as well as the newly acquired secondhand copies of Mindfulness: A Practical Guide by Tessa Watt and The Artist's Way by Julia Cameron with Mark Bryan along with a memoir from the great Gloria Steinem, crowding sentimental pieces. My notebooks are hiding a hand mirror that I was proudly told is made of Bakelite.
As is the case for many, I regularly have to set aside time for pursuing possible jobs and apartments. I feel for the people who've had to make difficult decisions over the last couple of months about paying rent, buying food, moving back in with parents or a sibling, etc. We're in a stressful time that leads some of us to make ourselves feel so ashamed, which is a go-to process of mine. I took so long to write this blog post because of that shame, though once I allowed myself to look at my reality for what it is, I admitted that everything's okay. I am feeling a little guilt over the fact that my apartment options increased once July 31st rolled around, since for all I know, there may be a number of people made homeless by quarantine or by the federal unemployment stimulus cut-off date, or at least made into invaders like myself, but regardless, there are key tasks at hand, and in order to focus and do our best with both housing and trying to score job interviews during a virus outbreak, it's important for us to take care of ourselves.
I'm talking about numerous options, not the least of which are walks and other forms of exercise (Remember when, in Legally Blonde, Elle said, "Endorphins make you happy; Happy people just don't kill their husbands"? She wasn't kidding, and science backs up her statement). Plus, there's dancing. I like my occasional, impulsive one-person dance parties, and at my old apartment, they often involved wine. Letting loose to really dance-able stuff brings me all the sweaty, ear-to-ear joy and makes me feel as simultaneously buoyant and unbreakable as I should.
Also, quarantine gave me the chance to cut down my lists on Netflix and YouTube's "Watch Later", learning about psychoneuroimmunology, learning how I developed my A.D.D., catching up on the shows "I'm Sorry" and "What We Do in the Shadows", or just returning a feel-good standby. If the latter appeals to you more, please do it today! You'll feel better if throughout your day or as you settle down to sleep if you're carrying vivid memories of stand-up jokes from this comic you like or quotes from that children's movie you love, etc., etc.
I'd like to mention that recently, I've developed a terrible illness that
1. Made me discover "Puppet History" 💙💚
2. Has me listening to the antics of Ryan Bergara and Shane Madej, and one episode of "Buzzfeed Unsolved: True Crime" featured the weird, awful murder of a young man named Artemus Ogletree. I got curious, meditated, broke out the Tarot cards and briefly spoke with the soul who used to be Ogletree himself. Remember, I'm such a newbie that I simply felt his energy the way I do with all spirits that are not my Higher Self and could only get his responses using Tarot, but it was a conversation all the same!
I can also now say that I've communicated with a plant. Can you?
If my friend Violet saw this part of this post, she'd probably shake her head and say, "Of course, Earth Mother", but seriously. In July, I realized that I'd been incorrectly feeding the succulent that Violet had given me for my birthday and after researching and acting on the right way to water it, I turned again to Tarot and asked the little plant certain questions. After I asked to momentarily feel the way it felt, there was a noticeable ache in my chest, which was interesting, and after I inquired, the plant made clear that it/they would prefer to not be thought of as "cute" or anything like that, which I had previously done, but as "strong", and that makes, sense, doesn't it? As much as I'm completely disinterested in gardening and horticulture, I have, since childhood, kept a belief in the back of my mind that plant life deserve to be recognized as resilient beings that inspire serenity, positivity and whatever else, including maintaining a trade system with humanity where they take our carbon dioxide along with water and give us oxygen. I'm so accustomed to only feeding myself, but it's okay if after a while, I change that not with a pet but a plant. During our conversation, I rested my hands around the succulent, apologized, sent Reiki and, in an attempt to develop more of a respectful connection to it, named it Sorca.
Since my last post about moving, I haven't devoted all of my energy to wallowing in shame and "what if"s because there were things to write, muscles to build up and neighbor doggies to befriend! Just like in my old place, I'm doing my best to balance my negative and positive, laziness and productivity, selfishness and Reiki, wanting to help others get through this difficult time in our respective ways of life around the globe, while also still genuinely excited about my life's next chapter.
