December 12, 2011

Let the Light Shine!

Today's message is brought to you by the letter P and E or a weird little dude with a big clock. That's right, Flavour Flav. Public Enemy has this great song called "He Got Game." One line has always stood out for me, like a prophetic message: "Watch out for the soul snipers, trying to steal your light." Brace Yourself. I'm going to get a little deep and esoteric here.

 I enjoy the "signs" of life - all the subliminal messages that speak to me on a non-material level - things I don't often mention to people as they may assume I'm a few steps away from the black crayons and a padded cell. But if you're tuned in to what your life is telling you and you notice the occasional patterns or synchronistic events too, then follow me down the rabbit hole for a moment here. 

I tend to be somewhat resistant of my own success. I can allow myself to be caught up in the stress and action of doing so much that I don't take moments to appreciate my efforts. Sure, I will blast Montell Jordon's "This Is How We Do It" and prance around in my underoos, feeling like I'm the shit, but that's usually just because of a good hair day.

I think to really appreciate hard work I do, I need to rest and reflect, share it with others, and then resist the urge to diminish it and sour it with negative self-deprecation. So lately I've been allowing myself to say, "This is exciting, I am doing something here that is of value and makes me happy" both out loud and (most importantly) in my my own head. And this internal shift - that I really see as just honouring myself -  is really making people uneasy. 

Not my inner circle, mind you. I am completely packed full of the most supportive friends and family who cheer me on and inspire me. No, these uneasies are on the peripheral. Recently, I've had complete strangers interrogate me on what is happening in my life and then spout off a Fool's Lecture on what I should anticipate for my future, based on their limited, negative, and resentful experiences. 

One man has sentenced me to a life in my parent's basement, telling me to keep my wild dreams in check and embrace reality, because I'll be shooting Tampon commercials if I ever hope to own my own house.

One young woman cannot control the twisting of her face when I'm near. She seems to have been repulsed by me ever since a mutual friend informed her that no, I'm not just her waitress.

Another puffs himself up as an expert who can help me and demanded that I send him my materials after he insulted me and literally told me to stop talking, because I had a lot to learn.

Comical, right? I could waste a thousand clever words to decimate these fools and make you laugh, but there is a pattern here. Life is trying to tell me something. I find it interesting that as I aim to eliminate my own negatron, I find other people that represent my own internal dialogue "I'll never have enough money if I'm an artist," "I'm just a waitress," "I don't know what I'm doing..." Only these sentiments don't stick anymore. I can see them as toxic and even  bizarre.

Oh Horrible Fate! Though I do like to write about BLEEDING...

Some of the best horror films have a dramatic twist in the end, where we all find out that the villain isn't an external force after all. Our hero is totally insane. Our hero is their own worst enemy. I've been acting as my own soul sniper for years, shrinking back when I should be going full out. I'm not willing to do that anymore.

Now I can't bitch slap a stranger, but I can smack myself around when I start to listen to one of them.  And I've always been told that if you're making people uncomfortable, you must be doing something right.

1 comment

  1. I should write a tampon commercial. Suzy wakes up in a bed full of blood and then vicious BEARS come in a slaughter her! Oh wait... I am writing that, as a feature film: Gillian's Just Right. Watch for it!!


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