The Past Can Hurt

“Get rid of the past for something new to begin”

That was my “message of the day” from my horoscope yesterday. I didn’t see it until evening after I was done wrangling the chickens into their pen. I thought about what it meant and the significance of seeing it when I did (I usually check my horoscope first thing in the morning) which led me to thinking about my plans for the day and what I actually did:

My plan was to post my journal entries from a past romantic relationship with the things that should have been red flags, the excuses I gave the red flags, the traumas those red flags triggered, and how I’ve grown from where I was then to where I am now. This was going to be an emotional day for me, and I was prepping myself for it when the chickens “flew the coop” and got out of their pen. When I stopped to have a cigarette after corralling them, I realized my plans for the day had gone straight out of the window.

I took the time to do some reflection, particularly on my career path; the discussion my boyfriend and I had on my recent departure and I realized something. I have always worked in service oriented industries, and in every single one of those jobs I’ve had to give bits of myself for the job, just to earn more money because, God forbid decent wages are paid to those who do the work. I no longer was willing to sacrifice parts of me for pennies so I thought, “Maybe it’s time I look outside of those industries and try something completely different.” So I applied to manufacturing jobs yesterday - felt pretty good about it too. Haven’t heard back yet, but then I didn’t expect to. The chickens got out again, and this time, I let them forage. I contemplated about how I felt when my boyfriend had said, “That’s just the way it is” and pretty much spent an hour beating myself up for saying the exact same thing to my son throughout the years. I thought about other things I did that wasn’t really doing me any good; not looking at situations that happened through an objective lens - I always get overridden with emotion. So I decided that while I have my journal entries in the drafts folder, I’m going to wait to review them until I’m in a better frame of mind - one of observation and not wounded animal (cuz I can get pretty violent when my heart gets hurt). The point of publishing those is to show others how the “red flags” were potentially my ex’s trauma responses that triggered my own trauma responses and how those same things don’t apply anymore - kinda like giving advice to someone in a similar situation. Getting caught up in the emotions I had at the time would not be conducive to being objective - though I will say, not all of my memories of the relationship bad. I also decided to dedicate more time to my craft and practice AND to this blog. Doing these once in awhile and hoping to have anything come from it is silly because nothing worthwhile ever comes from half-hearted effort.

Assholes, all six of them. It’s a good thing they’re cute…

The chickens were finally getting too hot to be out in the yard and after I put them back in their pen, I went inside to get housework done. In that, I found some things that I’m fairly sure I had a reason for keeping, but for the life of me, I couldn’t remember why. A mini purge ensued, particularly in the mudroom that had yet been cleaned out since I got back here over a year ago and I was faced with crafting supplies that I had kept - yarn, cross stitch stuff, threads, etc. Do I keep them or toss them? Let’s be honest, crocheting was never a strong suit of mine and I can barely see the patterns to cross stitch. I think I’m pretty much done with both hobbies HOWEVER, I can use the yarn, threads, and needles in my craft. Then I started thinking about the old sewing machine my ex had given me from his barn long ago (seems like a lifetime ago, actually) and while I know how to sew and I enjoy it, I don’t know if I have the patience to wind the bobbins (never enjoyed that part) and adjust the thread tension. That led me to analyze the office/guest bedroom in its entirety and it started another mini purge of things I had brought with me from my ex’s house - none of it was being used and honestly, there wasn’t enough sage in Kansas to cleanse the negative energy off of the stuff so into the trash it went. Once I was done, I had a thought of how I much preferred my computer being downstairs and how the room could be rented.

NOPE! NOPE! NOPE! Did that once, didn’t like doing it, ain’t doing it again. It sent my brain down into what I call “money panic mode” which in turn prompted why I was worrying about money so much that I would even think of going down that road again. I grounded myself, talked to myself about the worry, assured that “lacking of resources” fear that even if I had to sell the house, everything would be fine. Which made me think about society’s obsession over money and how it ties into the normal “have to have a job even if it means it kills me inside” mentality is so pervasive and that led me to sit down and hand write a blog post about it - because the chickens had gotten out AGAIN!

So, I tell you all that to tell you this. Last week I tied up a lot of loose ends - not only from my last job, but also the last of my husband’s estate that I hadn’t known about. There were windfalls, but they would take 7 to 14 business days to arrive (which would explain why my brain went into freak financing mode yesterday). Today, I was offered a job and I accepted; part of the windfall arrived earlier than expected; I discovered a windfall of my own that I hadn’t known about (or did, but because I don’t understand that shit, I ignored it); AND I found a hundred dollar bill in a wallet I no longer use. All because I let go of the past. I’ve been on this huge kick of shadow work (kind of necessary in the woo woo world if you want to remain sane). Yesterday, while I dove into the shadows, I learned my past only explains me, it will never define me. I’m ever growing and evolving; things that worked for me back then don’t work for me now. I’m not the sum of what I’ve done but the equation of what I will do. This applies to everyone - including dumbass exes, ego-maniac supervisors and the fuck twat that cut you off in traffic. We just have to choose to learn and grow and leave the past behind us.

Except the chickens…those little fuckers are STILL jumping the fence even after I raised it. I’m running a daycare center for fowl.

Perfect…