Energy Exchange ~ Musical Version

I have talked about this quite a bit, but to catch you up, here’s the general idea.  Music IS a Medium.  In this post I try to relate a common experience people have, which is physically/emotionally/spiritually responding to a piece of music.  I believe you will attune to exactly the right frequency of music that will trigger, and heal you.  I believe the individuals who create this music place an energy signature into it which is easily read by physical mediums.  (*or if you prefer, individuals with a particularly sensitive operating system/biological container).

I have used music, inspirational podcasts, intelligent interviews to shape the way my body responds to energy.  I have immersed it in pleasurable energy signatures, that provide healing information for my physical operating system.  My emotional/spiritual/physical improvement cannot continue until these energy breaches are repaired and new pathways of positive energy are created.  Basically, I am reexperiencing all of the energy systems that have caused me pain in my entire life.  In return, I am providing those systems a chance to clear old hurts, and find new understanding.  The more I tune into music and use it in combination with rhythmic movement like climbing long hills, or walking on ‘auto pilot’, the more my body slips into an automatic work pace which is faster than my normal pace, and engages many more muscular and neural systems together.  I feel the difference in my body.  I feel like a machine that is at optimum working pace.  I am relaxed, deeply focused, and releasing all kinds of energy that has built up over the day.  Lately I have been walking two or three times a day.  Yesterday I logged over 23km.  I know the time will come soon where I am going to start working, and I am really ready to get started.  Until then, I am using up a lot of bored energy walking around town feeling amazing.

Whats coming up the most on my playlist shuffle?  I’m glad you asked.

I accidently sucked my gum into what I thought was my lungs, while skating confidently, and listening to this song in my headphones. (DON’T SKATE AND CHEW GUM, KIDS.) I was quickly reminded that confidence is best displayed in places where one has sure footing and a good sense of balance, when a slight wobble caused what could have been a truly ironic ‘How I Died Today’.  I must reference a woman named Tracey who had the first blog I ever loved, called ‘How I Died Today’.  I loved that blog.  🙂

The next one plays over and over in my head, as well as in my headphones.  I love the way it sounds, and I love the way it makes my body feel.  I love that even though there is some hurt still there (*come on Justin, you know it), he has finally got the message that love can be very blind. Everyone hates to make a mistake, especially with our heart. The things he loves are as KICK ASS AS HE ALWAYS THOUGHT THEY WERE, by the way. Fuck off GIRL WHO WANTS TO CHANGE HIM.  The energy signature is of resignation, old pain, resilience, painful realizations, and moving on.  It also points to some very big missed cues when it comes to choosing to ignore the behavior or attitude of people we decide we are going to love.  I feel this brother.  I feel this.  The good news is, once you find out who you are, the right person will be more able to find you because your energy signature will be authentic, accurate, and finally drawing what is needed into your life experience.  in my opinion.



This one I can’t explain. I can only feel it. It goes in a two-pack with Taylor Swift’s Style.

I suspect there are a lot of people who use music in this way.  I’d love to have more discussion on this.  It has to be a ‘thing’.  How could so many people have similar experiences if it wasn’t a legit phenomena.  It seems so obvious, I’m not even put a question mark at the end of that last sentence.  Grammar Anarchy. I’m a rebel like that.

The Photographer is at the whell.

And she’s a shitty speller.  haha.  I wanted to change it, but The Photographer doesn’t care about it’s spelling.

The photographer got me an interview at a place I think I might really like working, but didn’t think much of at the start.

Today I interviewed for the position.  I have been thinking a lot about this job and I believe it would really be a good job for me.  The Photographer has been getting me ready for this new stage of my life.  She has made sure I show up to my commitment to myself.  She uses my own weaknesses against me as motivation.  She is faithful about taking the meds.  She doesn’t require much food to eat, because she’s incredibly distracted by getting what she wants in life.   This used to be a bad thing, and a terrible thing sometimes, maybe for her, or maybe for others at times.  The Photographer is very damaged inside from having a very bad daddy.  The way her daddy damaged her made her perfectly prepared for the job she would have to do some day, which had something to do with killing someones soul.  It sounds very terrible, but if you think about it in a scientific/energy sort of way it makes sense.  If your soul/spirit/chi/whatever gets permanently ‘frozen’ at a certain point in your life, it keeps it ‘on hold’ in the event that the person may have a reason to put some skin in the game later.  Basically, you put your player on freeze until such a time that you desire to engage in the situation you see yourself in.  When certain energetic events go off in your life, you press play and resume development, starting off at ground zero.  If you ‘died’ at 2, you will start at 2.  If you are totally fucked up with your behavior at 2, you will either die, or have a NDE* which will reset you at 0 and give you a conscious view of your choices.  I was not conscious at 0, and woke up terrified and alone, just like a newborn baby, terrified of the light.  Overwhelmed and dissociated by the light more accurately.  When ‘god’ or ‘the devil’ or whatever universal force broke in, it killed [THE OLD]me.   And that’s the way I asked for it to be.  If I got so vile that I didn’t want to know myself I asked for a disconnection so I would be forced to find myself.  Energetic math demands it.  As I become more of myself, i realize I am only a collection of parts.  The flame that i run on is eternal.   Everything else is distraction.  I feel this flame when I commune with maryjane.  I feel my body and mind together, which hasn’t happened since I was busted so long ago.  Even in my re connection at ground zero, the physical loss sustained by the damage done by my father can not be repaired.  I can use cannabis to bridge the gap between the me I was, ethereal and beautiful, and the me I am today.  I spend time with my baby me, who is now a grown adult in my head.  It doesn’t have the tragedy of being programmed by the collective consciousness, so it is pure, unspoiled sexual energy.  I guess I’m some kind of pervert, communing sexually with a part of myself that’s a baby, but it’s not a baby anymore.  It’s a 45 year old baby, which is the most beautiful kind of baby you could imagine, and it’s super fun to hang out with.  And it’s so lonely in my mind, with so many villains and superhero’s and me and Baby just wanting to chill and vibe out together.

I will get back to The Photographer.

This fragment has been running my ass around, keeping my appetite suppressed naturally, reminding me to keep taking my meds and keep achieving my goals.  It keeps a tight leash on me, and makes me feel really, really good physically.  It makes me feel strong and powerful and in command, three concepts that were completely foreign to me before had the good sense to fall in love with my husband.  (And that’s another blog post).

I can attribute my dedication to walking, listening to podcasts and music to this fragment.  One fragment loves music to the point of being lost in it.  I love this fragment so much.  It enhances the chance I will follow through with my physical activity.  It’s interest is purely physical (photographer), but it enjoys the help of the others, who motivate me greatly.  All of these fragments encourage and support the use of cannabis for goal setting.

The photographer made sure the technology was set up properly, and that my hair was colored appropriately and styled properly.  It also set out clothes for me to wear that I liked, and looked good.  My teeth were brushed (and seemed VERY BIG AND WHITE when I looked at myself in the mirror) and I looked quite polished.  Nail polish was desired, but not selected.  Wedding ring was placed on my finger, but no other jewelry was worn.  I wore light blue eyeliner, and mascara, and a bit of lip stick.  Pretty natural.  [This fragment likes being married and proudly wears her wedding ring.]

During the interview, I had a large glass of water with me, and a coffee in camera lens mug. [This fragment likes coffee and water.  It prefers water, but understands that coffee satisfies some need that it doesn’t understand that helps me feel like doing certain activities].

I was relaxed and conscious of keeping myself still, and smiling as appropriate.  Slowly, not like a grinning idiot.  I worked to keep my attention grounded in my body, and not in my mind which may have started overthinking.  I stepped aside and let the best part of myself do the thinking.  I didn’t micromanage, and I didn’t tell myself to stop unless I had finished my thought.  I kept my thoughts organized and tried to plan out the answer to conclusion to keep on track before I spoke.  I clarified if I did not understand the question, and I tried to relate my experience to the universal experience of having a good product to feel proud of selling, and giving good customer services to people who want that product.

In the end of the interview, a different part of me sort of ‘broke through’.  It is an extremely confident and gregarious, and doesn’t give a fuck about rules and being modest.  I found myself saying something to the following to the interview panel of three women who had just conluded my interview;

“If I could finish up by saying that I really hope I get this job.  I think I would be really good at it, and I know I could make people feel better about their day.  I want to work, and someone is going to get me.  I really hope it’s [your company]”.  Then it delivered a big lazy smile and big my goodbyes before leaving the video conference.

When the conference ended, I had a huge smile on my face.  It felt likeMatthew McConaughey energy, [which is something I have absorbed during any scene where I find his character arousing], jumped into my skin and started to talk from my heart.  I really hope it doesn’t cost me the job, but it made my heart so happy inside to have such a smooth character ready to jump out and take over when I am nervous.  [as I am in any concluding interaction with another person].  I love the idea that my consciousness can pick an appropriate character who ‘feels right’ for a situation, and deliver an authentic response when I am too nervous to do so.

I am trying to keep more detailed notes of who is at the wheel any given time, but especially during important check points.  It seems some parts of my consciousness spend time dormant while at other times, my intuition is extremely heightened for no real reason I can understand.  Different ‘parts’ of me have the ability to take over my life over time.  I don’t notice they are there until i see the change in my pattern of behavior.  This most recent fragment is very distressed at the grey of my hair.  The other dominant fragment around lately (but not dominant over the first) is someone who doesn’t give a shit about her grey hair, and thinks it’s kind of interesting.  It pulls them out (to the delight of the first fragment) to examine their color (silver!) and consistency and strength.  There is real truth the the idea that age brings strength in different ways.

I realize I have been doing this unconciously all my life.  In the past I have not always understood what was really going on around me, and may have chosen poorly on my behalf, based on what I knew at the time.  As my understanding increases, so does my ability to choose more consciously when I am able, and to trust that my collective will choose the best choice for me when I am not certain.

I am so deeply grateful for my ability to connect with my own collective and to allow them to help me create a beautiful life with the people I love the most.  I am learning to be a blessing everywhere I go, and that has nothing to do with religion.  It has to do with healing the wounds we carry together.  It gets easier as I learn I am here to forgive myself and to allow others to forgive me too.  Some are stubborn and won’t take the healing that is offered because it doesn’t come from the person they desire, or the package they prefer.  Some will take it without offering the healing they are meant to give in return.  Some will see the value and intuitively know how to make the most of a mutual soul contract in any kind of relationship.

Life is really starting to move in the right direction for me to start realizing some of my dreams, and it is inducing a really exciting/exhilarating/nervous/anticipation feeling.  I like it.

The Phoenix


PS.  An email dinged and appeared in my top, right hand notification area on my iMac, as I was finishing up.  I had to laugh when I read it.  Just as my own pieces are wanting to write, there is an affirmation that writing is what I should be doing.

{Here is the actual email}


I do think I will be meeting that dude someday.  His emails roll in at the most curious times.  His calendars gave me hope in very dark days at the beginning. }

*NDE near death experience, commonly experienced by a soul wishing to make an abrupt change in path, whereby a lot of soul information is needed to be transferred in order to ‘catch the soul up’ to the new plan.  In my opinion.

Cornucopia of Wellness

Sometimes i don’t know who I am.

I feel like a collection of all of the people who I have ever wanted love from.  A little snippet of each one, highlights only.  It has been exhausting to host so many points of view.  Clarity has been good.

An attitude of sickness keeps people sick.  An aptitude of wellness moves one in the direction of better health.  I have been walking and making better choices, and I can see the difference in my body, and my mind.  I am allowed to think whatever I want.  No individual thought is going to cause any catastrophic consequence.  It’s okay to ruminate on things, as long as I don’t obsess.  Thinking things out isn’t paranoid.  Making decisions, or feeling feelings based on fears created while thinking things out IS paranoid.

Mindfulness is the best way to keep paranoia at bay.  The best thing about having fragments, is that there is always a voice of reason, day and night, under any circumstances to point out the pr0s and cons of any course of behavior.  Collaborating on decision-making with your most sensible fragment can help you make more sensible decisions.  It’s not sexy, but it is emotionally healthy!  Actually, when I think about it, emotional maturity is one of the sexiness things I can think of.

Taking care of my body makes me feel proud of myself.  Seeing my shape emerge after years of mistreatment of my body thrills me.  I am so excited to see the changes that are resulting from being committed to my mental and physical health.

I’ve been walking and either listening to a podcast, or music that makes me feel confident.  I imagine my personal energy sphere being bright, strong and magnetic as I walk.  I feel the inspiration and energy signature of whatever I am listening to, and use it to anchor myself to this new way of living.  Being outside is so good for my body and mind, and walking is an amazing way to feel connected to the environment and lose weight easily.  I believe it also helps keep food cravings at bay.

I don’t look at it as a weight loss plan, because it is merely the natural result of taking care of the body that has been taking care of me while I lived unconsciously.  I am thankful to be on such a beautiful, healing path.

Today has been a really great day.

Hello Butterfly

I know why the butterfly builds a cocoon.

She builds it bit by bit, without even knowing it’s happening. , until suddenly, in quite a panic, she realizes she is trapped.  She resigns herself to being dead and falls deep asleep.

She awakens some time later, inside a dark, tight, frightening place that makes her heart beat furiously, in a body she does not recognize.

Eventually she grows tired of being afraid, and becomes brave.

There are curious changes inside her new environment, and in her perception of her environment.  It may indeed be small, but now the closeness seems intimate.  It used to be dark, but  darkness has become recognizable; comforting even.   What was frightening, has become an embracing, beloved home to the parts of her that have learned to live in this much smaller space.

When her cocoon begins to crack open, she is once again afraid.

Fear has taught her that bravery is a better defense.

She does not know what happens next.  The past has taught her that everything works somehow.  She must trust that this is the next part of the process.

She is released from the last remnants of her home, and she is free.  The world feels so achingly beautiful.   As her glorious wings begin to unfold, it is clear she has grown too large, and too lovely to hide within this tiny space.

She can hardly imagine where she will fly first.  In her own freedom, she is born anew.
She thinks of her fellow larvae, caterpillars, pupae, unaware of what is to be.  She is the them they will become.

She radiates her loving, encouraging beautiful energy to all of her kind, past, present and future.

There is always more to come.  Trust life’s miracles to unfold through you.  You will be the caterpillar who becomes the butterfly.

Feelings Rise

Emotional overload. My feelings rise up so quickly and leave me cornered. I strike out in anger, my favorite defense. I don’t know why these people love me, but I wonder if my emotional disconnection has affected them. I try to be happy and kind, but my nature is angry and suspicious.

All my life I have been waiting to be understood. I want to say and do the things I want, but the reality is that as soon as I do, I encounter resistance from others. When I am well, things move along nicely and everyone is content. When I am struggling, they vacillate between concern and anger.

I am so angry inside. I feel like all of the people that were supposed to guide and support me to adulthood failed to do anything but the basics. I was fed and clothed, but emotionally starved. I grew up nervous and suspicious but I did my best to hide it under an amiable, people-pleasing exterior. Now that I am not interested in saying what others want to hear, I realize I am going to start finding the conflict I have always avoided.

My heart feels heavy and alone. I am loved by my husband more than I deserve to be loved. He puts up with my shit and supports anything I decide to undertake. He accepts people unconditionally, and is the most genuine person I have ever known. He has changed my life for the better in too many ways to count. He accepts me, but he doesn’t understand me. When I begin an emotional freefall, all he can do is love me until it passes. I truly wonder how long another person will put up with emotional instability. I know he loves me, but someday, I am afraid this will be too tiring for him to continue.

I live in some kind of emotional freezer. I fight to keep everything neutral, but the wrong look, tone or words send me instantly into a raging animal. I feel cornered and trapped and all I want to do is explode and hurt the person in front of me the way I am hurting.

I see my children triumph and I cry tears of relief, pride and joy. Then the feelings turn, and I am them, alone on an island of isolation in my own childhood, wishing I had a parent like me who enriched my strengths, and helped improve my weaknesses. The tears are selfish then, for a middle aged woman who never stopped being a child waiting to be loved and accepted.

I ache to be understood. When I was in grade 10 or 11, I read a Steven King novella, “The Body”. There was a passage that made my heart skip a beat.

The most important things are the hardest to say. They are the things you get ashamed of, because words diminish them — words shrink things that seemed limitless when they were in your head to no more than living size when they’re brought out. But it’s more than that, isn’t it? The most important things lie too close to wherever your secret heart is buried, like landmarks to a treasure your enemies would love to steal away. And you may make revelations that cost you dearly only to have people look at you in a funny way, not understanding what you’ve said at all, or why you thought it was so important that you almost cried while you were saying it. That’s the worst, I think. When the secret stays locked within not for want of a teller but for want of an understanding ear.”

Some part of my teenage self started when I read this passage. I read it over and over, and highlighted it. Something about it felt so authentic to me.

This is who I am. This is my fear. I am afraid I will never find those friends who think like I do, and dream like I do. I want to be understood so badly. I’ve been to therapists and psychiatrists, friends and acquaintances, teachers and mentors; I’m still waiting to find my people. I’m afraid it’s been too long, and their beautiful, brave hearts have grown old, waiting to be recognized.

The Artist and I Square Off

I promised myself I would start my self portrait series but I am stalling. I have realized that in one of these images I am going to feel naked, and possibly even BE naked (I haven’t decided yet). It’s the last step to revealing all of myself to myself. I doubt I will share this portrait series like I did the last set. The fallout of the last series still lingers.

I was a well liked and amiable community member who used to bend over backwards for people. I went full crazy-artist on an unsuspecting small town public. There was a part of me that would not take no for an answer, and demanded to be brought forward. I was fascinated by the way my body reacted to certain music. I would cry and shake uncontrollably for no reason that I was aware of. My manic mind wanted to SEE. It wanted ME to SEE what was being experienced. It wanted others to SEE as well. I could FEEL how good it was to release these feelings that I had no conscious connection to. The music provided a bridge for me to physically LET GO.

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I had been fairly popular when I was behaving and producing palatable portrait photography, but when I decided to photograph my own pain publicly, i was met with a stony silence. This angered me. So I did it some more, with a whole bunch of other real women who had a bit of pain to share. Music was the medium that moved every one of them too.

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No one seemed to care why I was so interested in pain. I was confused. I felt like I had stumbled onto a very exciting connection. People had a very easy time expressing difficult emotions when music was the bridge.

My colleagues were disinterested. It seemed extreme emotion didn’t equal great photography if that emotion is extremely uncomfortable. I couldn’t understand why people who portray themselves to be artists did not see value in what I was producing, or wonder why I was creating these images.

The community that had lifted me for years with their ‘likes’ were embarrassed and quickly distanced themselves from me when I released the first authentic, emotional photography of my life.

It broke my spirit, and I retreated completely from life. I think this is when I felt like I had failed as an artist.

Isolated and alone, my mental difficulties grew and my social circle collapsed.

In hindsight, I realize it was unfair of me to unleash such a torrent of pain at an emotionally repressive community. I really didn’t know what I was doing at the time, because my mental illness was in full control of my faculties. While it was an interesting idea to explore, i was way too emotionally involved in the subject. I now understand that displays of sadness and pain are perceived as weakness. The reality couldn’t be further from the truth. Pain taught me more about truth than fake smiles ever did.
The rebuild of my life since I publicly imploded has been nothing short of traumatic, frightening and truly transcendent. I can’t tell anyone of this, but I’ve left a public record and as people begin to become authentic, they too will experience these complete breaks in their reality. People will come face to face with the part of themselves they have been denying. There is no journey toward ‘light and love’ that does not involve darkness and pain. We are all of these things. We CANNOT move toward our own true light without meeting the dark passenger that waits for confrontation.

Sister, we have both learned to embrace and care for our shadow side. We are learning every day to find balance between our light and dark aspects. We can be enthusiastic coaches and trusted advisers for others who find themselves experiencing a spiritual emergency. We are well trained to offer the support we did not find. We find comfort in beautiful, emotionally powerful people who are not ashamed of the darkness they have walked through. This is our tribe. Some of us will need help while we navigate the murky waters of truth.

So while I drag my heels on the first image of my series, I know it has to be done. The Phoenix is up first. We’ll see how it all turns out. Not going to lie…I am nervous. It feels as important as the first series. I am excited and afraid to see my parts in living colour, but they have asked to be shown, and I will honor their request.

I will cue this one up for The Phoenix when it’s time to shoot.


Ode to The Artist


The part of me that is The Artist experienced this moment.  This fragment craves being in direct communion with nature, and for simplicity, that is what I will refer to when I say ‘god’.  This is easily my favorite piece of myself.

The Artist connects with me to show me the beauty of my world.  It notices the light on the water, and the brightness of the sunshine.  And the way the sun shines on the clouds, so fiery and directional.  It makes me completely understand the holographic nature of their shape.  A bird flies freely across the sky and The Artist reminds me that it is also me taking flight, and me enjoying myself take flight.  I embody the perspective of both the observer and the observed.  There is a long line of slow mist coming off the water at the shore, and it seems to slowly dance. The shadowy form of a man of comes out of the mist from far down the beach.

Look how perfect all this shit is.  It’s as if someone cued up the perfect background for reflecting on my complicated, heartfelt, deeply personal relationship with 2014, and divinity in general.  Now I am the observer, observing the Artist, and rolling my eyes at it.  How disrespectful.  The Artist doesn’t care.  It knows that it is this perspective that has kept the system feeling alive, and believing in magic all of these years.  The Artist is like a honey badger.  It don’t give a fuck about anything but what it loves.  It loves beauty, majesty, feeling and communion.

I would stay inside this fragment all the time if I could, but I would never get anything done.  What I have learned to do is to remember the way The Artist sees the world, and to apply the same eyes, no matter which fragment is present.  This way I can still stop and breathe in the beauty of any place or moment, without becoming completely, impractically, ridiculously swept away in it.

Although, sometimes, that’s nice too.