On a blog where I’m being very open about my struggles with mental stability, I’m not sure it’s a good idea to talk about the little voices I hear in my head. But what the heck!
I’m not talking about the kind of inner voice we all possess. You know – damn I’m hungry…. wow he’s cute!…. stupid itchy ear…. shit, I have to get some toilet paper at the supermarket….
And so on. No, not that voice.
I mean the type of voice that doesn’t appear to belong to me; it’s more like a wise old friend who knows WAY more than I ever will. But ofcourse, it probably is my voice after all. I think it’s my intuition actually. Kind of like an expanded version of the ‘gut feel’ many people will intermittently pay attention to.
Except that when you start to pay attention to that feeling more regularly, it gets louder. It says more – with words, not just a feeling. Possibly the next phase in developing one’s intuition is being able to call on that voice whenever you need it. But for now, its still hit and miss. I don’t always hear it clearly, and it’s not always there when I need it.
It is much easier to ‘hear’ when I’m in calm, non-stressful situations. Mostly anyway. Or perhaps just when I’m more open. Less closed.
And I think this voice is a part of the ‘kind-of’ psychic abilities I mentioned in a previous post.
I realise this can all sound kind of weird… but actually my whole blog is weird, right? I mean, it’s not exactly your feel good laugh-a-minute epistle, is it?? The readers of these posts are free to be with me on this or think I’m nuts on anything I write. I don’t care. But this is how it is for me.
And, also because I think tonight I’ve managed to pluck a couple of cohesive messages out, even though I am living somewhat under duress at present (no job, no home, living with the parents etc).
And the message received is part of the answer to my recent prayers around – what the hell are my next steps anyway?
Whilst I was in Thailand, I felt all empowered by my stance of quitting my job, packing my things into storage and buggering off to follow my spiritual pursuits.
Interestingly, I seemed to be asked the same kinds of question over and over again by my friends/fellow yogis:
So what are you going to do next?
Are you going to move?
Why don’t you move back to Sydney?
Why don’t you move to San Fran?
Hey, you could move to Thailand for a while and work here!
To summarise, the general theory seemed to be: M O V E!!!
Everyone seemed to have suggestions for me, ideas on what I could do with myself. Perhaps it was this that precipitated a minor meltdown when I realised the gravity of what I’d done – pretty much erased all the structures in my life.
And not in my early 20’s, but mid 30’s – a time when most ‘sensible’ people are thinking of settling down. Buying that house. Having those kids. Yadda, yadda, yadda.
All of my yogi friends were super-pleased for me ofcourse. It’s great to retain flexibility of mind throughout your life and show detachment from material things. Other friends and family have had mixed reactions (horror, concern, happiness) which I’ve done my best to ignore.
So I prayed a lot. Right here, actually… at our Bodhi tree (the land came with a fully grown tree).
I still do. Prayer isn’t some sort of trademark of the mainstream religions. Prayer is conversing with… well, whatever you want to call it. God, your higher self, your guardian angel. I prayed and prayed, and haven’t gotten all the answers yet. I’m waiting on a sign, or signs.
I’m waiting to feel it in my bones before I know what I’m doing.
I guess the real issue for me is that I don’t have a clue. I have no answer on what I want to do next. The extent of my plans on returning to Australia included getting a job and getting some money together so I could once again have my own place.
But I knew, and I still know deep down inside, that change is not done with me yet. And it seems that even the simple plans I’ve had can’t go ahead with the assumptions I’ve been holding onto…
So back to what the voice said tonight.
It kind of went like this, although this isn’t a literal translation:
You can’t just pick up where you left off. Sure, get a job, but you can’t see it as permanent. Don’t go setting down roots here again. Perhaps you won’t have your own apartment again. Perhaps you need to consider sharing a place with someone. Don’t try to settle down.
Something like that.
See, I moved back to Melbourne (my home town) almost four years ago now. But it never really took. I love this city. It’s very liveable, very civilised and European in the inner city lifestyle. But it’s never felt like home since I got back here…
It doesn’t make much sense. I was born here and my family is here. In fact, the reason I moved back after living away for 12 years was family – my sister deciding to have kids actually.
But I still really, really get the sense of not belonging here. I’ve found it hard creating a new circle of friends again from scratch. I was assaulted. I broke my toe. Basically, except for the bit about spending more time with my family and baby niece, moving back to Melbourne has sucked dogs balls.
So whilst I was in Thailand, being confronted by the message of M O V E, I had no idea what that meant. Where I’m meant to move to. I still don’t. And as I’ve written before, I hate packing and moving in the worst possible way.
However, it seems I now know that I can’t think any sort of long term here in Melbourne. That much is clear.
So now, universe? Now, I know this…. can I have a fucking job please??