History of a spiritual quest – part v

Tags

animal familiars, belly dancing, Canberra, fork in the road, Guru, Kali, Pagan, paganism, Pagans in the Pub, run-away stream, rune reading as an oracle, Runes, satin, shamanic, spirit journeying, spiritual quest, trance work, Vedic astrology, velvet, Vimshottari Dashas, weapons training

[Read part i, part ii, part iii, & part iv]

Now that I look at it, the path that leads to where I stand (for the moment anyway), has been this kind of run-away stream. For the most part of its own accord, it’s flowed merrily back to source with little direction from me. For a long time I simply followed the path of least resistance, come what may.

I was not purposeful, not imbued with a sense of knowing where I was going. Just had a gut instinct about where I had to get to. Like to like, I floated along – sometimes easily, others not – and with great surprise and yet no surprise, found myself at the beginning of where I’d meant to get to all along.

But growing up in a world devoid of clues as to exactly where that was, I relied on little more than my intuition and sub-conscious cues. And it took me a while to learn to trust all of that. Hence, this bizarre quest of sorts… this journey with so many twists and turns…

Picture a dust-drenched camping plot an hour’s drive from Canberra (the concrete capital), amongst parched gum trees spattered across a thirsty horizon, on a summery late-January weekend… add all those velvet and lace outfits, hippie clothes, cloaks, capes etc, in country-Australia, at a green and sweat flecked camp ground…

The Pagan Summer Gathering of 1988 was in session.

I was a long flowing skirt wearing, belly-dancing goddess woman – teaching a unisex belly-dance workshop (based on my theory of dance and movement – see point #6). J was all Celtic-warrior-hard-man-long-hair-and-beard spiritual stuff.

The day of my workshop, was country-Australia-harsh-unforgiving, get-a-tan-in-the-shade kind of hot. It was a blast, even though only a single guy turned up. It was my first ever gig teaching people something I wanted to share.

New sign post

There was also a workshop on runes happening a bit later and both J and I were interested. I’d wandered over to see what was going on, glanced at the guy who’d be leading it (someone I’ve written about here before and labelled A) and swiftly backed away. Little did I realise he was to become my teacher and years later, my lover.

I was “saved” by a good friend I hadn’t seen in a while. He pulled me aside to tell me some serious news. With a legitimate excuse to not go, I dragged my friend back to my tent to commiserate, eat food and talk.

But J did go, and excitedly returned. This guy is the real deal. He’s learned this traditional system of runes, he’s Sydney-based and will be teaching classes.

An unspoken agreement occured: we’d be going to those classes. Despite my initial reaction to A, everything that J told me sucked me in. A western style martial form with weapons? A kind of western tai-chi? Herbolgy? Mythology? Runes as an oracle?

Coooooool!

This PSG wasn’t amazing just because of this new fork in the road. It was also my first proper introduction to Kali, my Mahavidya (another story circa 2008, ten years later).

At this gathering, that slightly off-center guy (even for a group of pagans) I’d met at Pagans in the Pub was running a Kali ritual. Which involved nudity but no sex (many of these things did), mantra and dancing. Can’t remember anything else about it, probably because I didn’t understand it much.

Didn’t really think about it at the time. And so it was… Kali had already staked something of a claim. Then, maybe it’s just always been that way?

Runology

Back in Sydney, J and I and another friend started studying this runic system with A.

We’d travel from one side of Sydney to another every fortnight for about a year, learning an oral family tradition that’d been handed down from one generation to the next, and had finally been taught to four outsiders, to keep the tradition alive.

One of those four people was the man who’d become my Guru (he’s trained in many esoteric traditions). He was living in Australia at the time, so when he came back from the UK, he taught a few Australian students of his own, including A.

And what we learned was a rich and fascinating living tradition of western shamanism: animal familiars; spirit journeying; trance work; rune reading as an oracle; weapons training. And so much more. So interesting, especially since we white folk are convinced we lack such history. But in some pockets of the world, this knowledge lives on.

Around September of the same year, we were handed flyers for a rune workshop with my Guru. J was working that weekend and made the call not to change his work schedule. But I did go, staying at A’s place overnight. Which is kinda sorta where my Why I have a Guru series picks up…

Galaxy of coincidences

Something I haven’t mentioned in that series is how my Vedic astrology chart correlates with some of the monumental changes in my life. Vimshottari Dashas are major cycles of time a planet/moon rules in your birth chart and according to Vedic astrology; this can influence your activities and state of mind.

When I moved to Sydney from Melbourne at the age of twenty-one, it was smack-dab on the transition into my Sun cycle – a time of activity. And when I met my Guru, it was the exact transition from Sun to Moon cycle – good for inner work but little else!

So, major changes in my chart it seems, have equalled major changes in my life. Quite unbeknown to me at the time.

The first encounter with my Guru left me enamoured, dazed and definitely a little confused. Also, quite radiant, joyous and kinda high! I returned from my weekend up north absolutely raving about it all.

Of course, J was far from impressed. I’d say it was blatantly clear that if asked, I would’ve gone to live wherever my Guru was (that’s never actually happened, not yet!).

When I went back a couple of weeks later to talk to him some more, I was given some practices to get started with. Off-handed, and without really knowing anything about my relationship with J, my Guru said to me – Oh, so you’re still engaged? Like he was reading my inner turmoil and simply spoke it aloud…

Without doubt, that day was one of those moments where knowledge descends. But more on that topic soon. It was a quickening, a ripening, perhaps a remembering…

Down, down, down

By this time, things between J and I had been deteriorating for a good six months. We were slowly imploding, and here I was, infatuated with another man – even if it wasn’t actually infatuation in a romantic way. At the time it sure felt romantic to me, in my state of delusion and elation!

To complicate things, I’d also had something of a crush on A for a while, but told no one. Not a soul. Actually, I was kinda proud of myself that I was aware of the crush and had no plans to act on it. I was with J, and A was married.

J often blamed our relationship breakdown on my feelings for A and my Guru. But the truth was, we had our own problems and it would be wrong to blame external influences. I will admit that my Guru was a catalyst, but not in any obvious way. Perhaps it was just all part of that quickening…

As it seemed less and less likely J and I would ever get married, we both withdrew. The time of talking, arguing, pleading, crying and hoping was mostly done. I took off my engagement ring in protest, and left it on a shelf in the lounge room. J responded by playing more and more computer games with the study door shut.

Nature abhors a vacuum, so as many couples in that situation do… we found fault with each other more and more, and our focus was drawn in opposing directions. Until there was no longer a way to mend our broken bonds.

But before that, we had more rune workshops with the head of the family tradition, who’d flown to Australia. I had my very first and quite shocking experience with trance work, and found out just how deadly a half-blind old man can be in martial arts training!

J and I both delved more intensely into our mutual interest in this tradition. Yet all that time… we moved increasingly out of each other’s orbit.

To be continued…

~ Svasti

History of a spiritual quest – part iv

Tags

affianced, Aleister Crowley, Amar, belly dancing, cauldrons, divination, druids, freaky thieving stalker dude, full moon, mead, Meditation, Mother Goddess, Pagan Summer Gathering, paganism, rituals, Runes, shamans, spiritual quest, the proverbial sponge, U2, witchcraft, witches, Woodford Folk Festival

I have kissed honey lips
Felt the healing fingertips
It burned like a fire
This burning desire
~U2

[Read part i, part ii, & part iii first]

In part iii, I gave y’all the bird’s eye view of my initial experience of Sydney’s pagans, witches, druids, shamans (and more) scene, oh my!

Those were heady times, my friends. Heady times, where I was busy soaking up knowledge and encounters like that sponge everyone’s always talking about (don’t think about it too much, its kinda gross).

And yet… the upshot (like the U2 song) was… I still hadn’t found what I was looking for (arf arf!). Despite some inner drive to do just that…

But along the way, I discovered the delights of mead, dressed in a lot of black and velvet (gotta blend in y’know) and learned quite a bit about working with energy, the elements, shamanic-inspired journeys, ancestral meditations , casting sacred spaces and tuning into the full moon and seasonal patterns.

I’d been worshipped as a representation of the mother goddess (which didn’t suck), danced ‘round fiery cauldrons, partook in shamanic rites, did a heck-load of drumming, and studied the works of Aleister Crowley (et al).

I also learned how to construct my own rituals, and divination became an interest – though it was much later before I learned how to read runes properly. For the record, I tend to think of oracles and divination as tools that reveal sub-conscious knowledge – i.e. stuff you already know somewhere deep down.

It was all good stuff, even if it was very early days.

The bit that wasn’t so good? When things ended with T (see part ii & part iii), I don’t think either of us realised he’d turn into a freaky thieving stalker dude, after throwing me out of the house we’d shared.

But I digress.

My interests in all things spiritual and dance continued. I explored ceremony, ritual, and meditation, and started performing as the bellydancer “Amar” (Arabic for moon).

This was a time of pseudo-homelessness – staying on a friend’s fold out sofa bed til I found a share house to move into, a new job (selling futons) and eventually, getting my own teensy tiny little unit.

Where T and I had run a small group for regular full moon ceremonies, I now did this alone, or with one or two others. By the time there was four or five of us, we were an unofficial ‘group’ of sorts… not that I wanted to run anything like that.

Little did I know, the aforementioned dress-up vampire night was attended by my future (and now) ex-fiancé, too (yes, he’s in the group photo, too). Our worlds began circling each other before we’d even met…

And I just kept hearing about this guy – J – and how we’d really hit it off.

Which of course, we did. It was kinda love at first sight.

J was part of sub-section of the pagan community, who attended some but not all of the same events.

Things with J moved so swiftly that within weeks of getting together, he’d moved into my tiny flat. Then, after our romantic UK holiday, we returned affianced.

J took me to different kinds of pagan events – the Pagan Summer Gathering, Rune Guild Winter Feasts (which I performed at, of course). Mash-up spiritual/music events like Woodford Folk Festival.

Slowly, I started to find a much less structured, more free-flowing kind of spirituality – a blend of dancing (which I’ve always considered to be very spiritual), that early knowledge I mentioned in part i, and a very strong intuition.

That intuition led me through events like the spontaneous healing I’ve written about before, and others I have yet to write…

Fate came knocking once more at the second Pagan Summer Gathering we attended, where I was teaching a unisex belly-dance workshop. It was J who discovered a runic workshop I had some interest in, but didn’t get to attend. J did though.

And right there, the path turned in yet another unexpected direction.

[Read part v]

~Svasti

P.S. As mentioned before, I’m skimming over a lot of details in my life to write this series – keeping the two original questions in mind – more about my experiences as a young heathen girl, and more about that moment when knowledge descends… I’m getting there, I promise!

https://svasti.wordpress.com/2009/08/05/history-of-a-spiritual-quest-part-iii/

Why I have a Guru – part 4

Tags

Astronomy vs Astrology, Chile, Essence Nature, Guru, Love, Meditation, Norse mythology, Overseas travel, Porridge, Runes, Sadhakas, Scotland, Snubbing your Guru, Summer gathering, Tantra, UK

This series of posts has once again, sat idly by for a few months now! For the full story, I recommend that you read part 1, part 2, and part 3 first… ‘course, if you don’t want to, then just read this one…

I didn’t see my Guru for two years, and it’s not that he wasn’t in town or I that didn’t know about it.

He was, and I did… A (my ex, and one of his kung fu and rune students) took great delight in telling him – she doesn’t want to see you – which he told me about after the fact.

A’s actions didn’t make me happy exactly. But I’d been a little miffed at how hard it’d been to contact my Guru when I thought something kinda serious was happening (in retrospect, all I can say is… it wasn’t that serious). And that when he did get in touch, his letter didn’t really help me. So, I consciously avoided spending time with my future-Guru.

Then, in late 2000 I planned something of a whirlwind trip – the UK, Scotland and Chile. The runic tradition I studied (as mentioned in part 2) was based in the UK, and was having a summer gathering of sorts, somewhere mid-north east of London.

Scotland was for spending time with friends and extended family, and Chile was to hang out with a friend who’d moved there to be with her astronomist husband (note: never ask an astronomist their star sign!).

Little did I know my Guru would be attending the same gathering. He was there to see his runic teacher – another pretty amazing person – actually descended from Norse nobility; the family tradition of this man (rune breathing, weapons-based martial arts, healing, mythology, trance work etc) was what we’d all been learning. He’d originally taught my Guru and three other people his family’s oral tradition, and then asked those four to spread the teachings.

It was via this rather circuitous path, I’d met my Guru. And this gathering was to pay our respects, learn from the master himself, and train with others who studied the same thing.

Thousands of miles from home, somehow my Guru and I both ended up in the same place at the same time. Camping in a field opposite a very old church and eating stodgy English porridge for breakfast.

We re-connected immediately, as if the last two years never happened. He asked why I’d stayed away, and although we talked about it, those reasons no longer seemed to matter – our connection was unblemished.

That week, luxuriating (NOT!) in the damp English Spring weather, we bonded again practicing martial arts, and discussing Norse philosophy.

At the end of the gathering, I found myself on a train back to London with my Guru and two Scandinavian guys, with an offer to share a couple of days and a room with my Guru before the next part of my journey.

It’s a time I remember with much affection. All teachers have their ‘teacher’ mode, and then there’s off-duty time. This is what we shared, and I delighted in his goofy silliness and incredible curiosity.

We did martial arts training in Hyde Park, tracked down a funny little shop that sold hand-carved walking sticks, did laundry, watched movies, listened to music in a Virgin megastore, went into expensive hotel lobbies to find out the cost of their over-priced rooms, ate out and of course… just talked.

We discussed Tantra, Hindu philosophy and our future student/teacher relationship. He did his practice at night on the edge of his bed, while I slowly faded into dream-ridden slumber, the kind that means I get sonambulently talkative. Awake or asleep, there was no mistaking my fear.

Yet he answered all my dumbass questions, and was outrageously indulgent of my desire to discuss every inane detail of my relationship breakdowns. I spilled my guts about things I never tell anyone! He listened, didn’t judge and slowly kept bringing my awareness back to one or two small practices he’d already got me working on.

Here was a clearly remarkable man. Definitely, not like any person I’d ever met. And for some reason, our paths crossed not once, but twice. He offered mysteriously enticing knowledge, the details of which we only lightly touched on, and for good reason (it’s not easy for the untrained western mind to grasp the multi-layered nuances of yogic philosophy)…

More, he never really seemed to look at my my external physicality. It was as though he saw something behind material form (I’ve noticed him do this many times since then).

But I was scared and uncertain, which of course I expressed. He said there was no hurry, and I shouldn’t take initiation unless it was what I wanted. In the mean time, there were things I could do to explore this new knowledge.

He gave me book titles to find and read, preparatory exercises to do (with a much fuller explanation this time), people back in Sydney to get in touch with, and there would be a retreat the following year in Canberra he wanted me to attend – so I’d see him again within a few months.

After two full days of being roommates, we parted company. I, to South London on an errand for my mother before I flew to Scotland. He, to Canada – he’d invited me to join him but regrettably I already had other plans.

Yet I was over the moon, joyous to have shared private time with him like that.

Years later, I remember my Guru speaking of the moment where sadhakas are suddenly faced with a reflection of their Essence Nature looking at them from the eyes of another. Immediate knowledge descends, that the person attached to those eyes can help you eventually recognise this within yourself – no longer just a reflection.

Although it would be another four years before I took formal initiation, I count our shared time in London as my first concious moment of recognition. But definitely not the last, or the most intense.

To be continued…

~Svasti

Why I have a Guru – part 3

Tags

Guru, Runes, Sivananda Saraswati, Spirituality, Tantra, The Matrix

Just so y’all know… the picture at the top of part 2 is not my Guru – it’s actually Swami Sivananda Saraswati. A truly wonderful man – born amongst the high caste of India, he studied to be a doctor, then ‘squandered’ all of his family money on caring for the sick and the poor.

My Guru and me – a meeting

So. A couple of weeks after the rune workshop I attended, I drove an hour across Sydney back to the beach-side home of my Guru-to-be. This time we met in the upstairs part of his fascinating house – a place I was to spend a great deal of time at, over the coming years.

I followed him around the kitchen while he made lunch, trying to figure out what questions to ask him. But I was a little unsure, and so he asked me a few questions to get the ball rolling.

G: So are you interested in spiritual work, then?

Me: Yeah, I guess I am. I have no idea why I’m here… just that after the other weekend, I wanted to come and talk to you again.

He kinda giggled a little at that point.

G: Okay, so generally in spiritual work, it’s about wanting to grow. Having that true wish to grow above and beyond what you think is possible for yourself. Does that sound like something that you’re interested in?

Me: Definitely! I mean, I’ve had all kinds of spiritual experiences of one kind or another. Been involved in all sorts of pagan things – but none of them have really been ‘right’, you know? They’ve all felt pretty empty in the long run.

I remember telling him about this energetic experience. He seemed interested, sorta.

But he never pushed any ideas onto me, though. Didn’t sensationalise anything.

Also, he never said anything like: ‘I’m a Guru and you should get into Tantra and follow me’. Never.

In fact, he barely told me about that side of what he taught. Though he wasn’t hiding anything either, but didn’t big-note himself or explain too much at that point.

Instead, we talked runes. We talked about the breathing practices I was already doing and ways to explore and expand on that.

He gave me some additional practices which would add other dimensions to what I was already doing. He suggested I keep track of anything I noticed.

And he asked me to get in touch if I had any questions.

This was the tricky part. He was leaving the country after living in Australia for years. But for various reasons he was now returning to America.

I still didn’t know yet he was my Guru. Only that he was incredibly wise, kind, and willing to share with me what he knew.

Waaay back when…

Cast your mind back folks – the late 1990’s were a time when not everyone was on teh interwebs yet! Horrors!! Can you believe it? I know, right!!

I did have email at home by then, but my Guru did not. I was given a postal address in New Mexico – where he ‘might’ be. It was all very sketchy.

So, I started doing these practices – but my fiancé (at the time) was very suspicious of my sudden interest in my Guru.

Mind you, that relationship was falling apart anyway. And my complete fascination with a man he’d never met (regardless of the fact that this man had now left the country), didn’t help matters.

But what could I do? It was a very, very powerful experience and connection.

The early years – in absentia

There are several common experiences people have upon meeting their Guru – if they ever meet one, and if that Guru is in fact their Guru (and just coz you meet someone like that doesn’t make them your Guru at all) – often the first reaction, if there’s a connection – is either love or hate. Something very strong anyway.

My infatuation though, gave way over time. I realised it was not a romantic expression of love. But rather, I’d met someone who was more interested in my potential as a human being than anything else. He had no concern for any physical or material definitions of who I was. He wasn’t trying to get in my pants.

He only ever wants to know about my capacity for spiritual growth, and is thrilled whenever something new opens up for me.

Meanwhile, my world rapidly turned upside down with the instructions given to me by my future-Guru. And there was no one around I could ask about it all. I can’t quite explain what I mean though… except things were unravelling.

Like… the very fabric of my perception of this world was being unwoven. Disconcerting? Youbetcha! I was freaking out a bit, but still… enjoying it all at the same time. It was along the lines of… starting to see atoms instead of solid shapes. A bit like that scene at the end of The Matrix with the play between computer code and solid shapes (but not quite so green and black).

And none of this on drugs, I promise!

I wrote to him, but he didn’t get my letter for a long time after he returned from India. In the meanwhile, I was more than a little worried by my experiences.

Eventually I received a letter from him – an aerogram!! But there wasn’t enough in the letter to really assist me. So at that point, I had to give up my practices because I was losing my grip on reality – which affected my ability to function in my day to day life.

Always a little sensitive to energy, its possible I had more pronounced experiences than my Guru had expected. But it was enough to scare me into stopping things in their tracks.

I was mad at my Guru and mad at myself… but mostly I wished I was near wherever he was. So I could ask questions and just keep learning.

[Read part 4]

~Svasti

Why I have a Guru – part 2

Tags

blog award, Guru, Linda's Yoga Journey, Runes, Sanskrit

It’s a while since I wrote part 1 of this series. And to be honest, it was possibly just a tad ranty. But only a little (okay, I’m still apologising over that one…) and well, I still meant most of what I wrote – behind the anger (which was related to other things going on right then).

Anyway, it’s a brand new year (hooray!), and I’ve been handed another lovely blog award by Linda’s Yoga Journey (my humble thanks!).

Plus, I seem to have levelled out a little from last week’s meltdown, and hopefully I’ll handle any future episodes with a little more style. Hopefully.

So. Let me backtrack to the start of this particular story. The year was 1998.

Seeking…?

Actually, I never meant to have a Guru. I wasn’t seeking one out. I had no idea they existed up til the time I met mine. And even then it took me a few years.

There are people who are dubious of Gurus. And well, to make this story appear all the more dubious – he’s not Indian. He’s a white man. An American too, for good measure. And yeah, he uses a funny Sanskrit name.

So do I, these days…

Not that I knew any of that at the time… I was there for the runes.

Oh yeah – I have a long history of searching, my whole life really. Not knowing what I was looking for. And it led to a whole bunch of experiences in the ‘pagan’ community. You name it – I’ve possibly been into it at one point or another.

Actually, Anthroyogini wrote a fabulously funny post, letting rip on her early ‘spiritual pursuits’. I laughed hard when I read it because I have plenty of my own foolish stories (in a post coming soon-ish).

Anyways, I’d been learning a Norwegian runic system for about a year and a half – a really interesting oral tradition of runes as an oracle, mythology, martial arts, healing, breathing practices, trance work and a whole bunch more.

So the guy I’d been learning from (referred to in this post as my ex, A) says – the dude who taught me this stuff is gonna be in town and will be running a two day workshop. You should come along. And so I did.

Walls of glory

I stayed at the house of my rune teacher, and we drove to a beautiful part of northern Sydney, surrounded by nature and spitting distance from some of the most glorious beaches in the country.

We arrived at a split level home surrounded by trees, entering a few minutes late via the bottom level.

Finding a spot to sit, I noted walls plastered almost floor to ceiling with the most amazing pictures I’d ever seen. Iridescent people, with eyes you could stare into for eons. Incredibly intricate and emotive images I could sort of associate with all things Indian. The room itself was alive.

Its here I meet my Guru for the first time, in his own home. He is my rune teacher’s teacher. That moment of introduction was innocuous, I can’t recall it exactly…

I do remember clearly, however, when he started talking.

The topics were runes, mythology and rune carving (below is a photo of the set I carved that weekend).

If I’m very honest with myself, I was captivated from the first word.

But who was this 6’3″ tall, cocky yet humble, loud but gentle, funny, intense, wise and knowing American with the New York accent? I still had no idea.

I felt enchanted, and strangely attracted to this man talking to us about Norse history, layers of meaning associated with runes and cross-referencing to the mythology.

He seemed to like my questions, and my attempts at discussing various topics. I just really liked listening to him speak.

By the end of the second day, I was floating on some kind of bliss cloud. I couldn’t have told you why.

But not in a ‘let’s jump in the sack and have wild monkey sex’ kind of way…

More of a ‘oh wow, I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as interesting as this person. I’d really like to talk to him again’ kind of way…

So, I did.

At that time I was working as a practice manager for a team of alternative health professionals. Doing the Saturday morning shift. I had with me, this man’s home phone number. I was nervous. About calling him.

What was I doing anyway? I mean, why was I calling this guy? And what did I even want to talk to him about? I had no idea…

But then he was on the phone, and he was chilled, funny and genuine. Just like I remembered.

And, despite his busy schedule, he made time to meet up the following weekend. Just him and me…

[Read part 3]

~Svasti

Rising from the ashes

Tags

Auroch, Dross, Fears, Fylgia, Moving house, Norse mythology, Odin, Ragnarok, Refinement, Rune poems, Runes, Trust, Ur, Vidar

Dross comes from bad iron;
The reindeer often races over the frozen snow.
~ Rune poem from the Younger Futhark.

This above poem belongs to the rune Ur, which is associated with the god Vidar – son of Odin – and supposedly the only survivor of Ragnarok (end of the world) in Norse mythology.

Vidar is one of the strongest warriors in the Norse pantheon.

His fylgia/totem animal is the auroch, an extremely large type of cattle. They roamed the plains of Europe before they were hunted to extinction in the 1600’s.

This is one of many versions of such poems, and they’re something I’ve studied for many years now.

So I’ll lend you my interpretation: Dross comes from bad iron – refers to sword making, and how, in the process of refining and strengthening the sword, the metal is purified and what remains must be cast off in order to forge the strongest of weapons. And: The reindeer often races over the frozen snow – travelling over snow is easier once it’s hardened. You can move faster, more efficiently.

Ah… enough with the metaphors!

Things have turned another corner again, and I’m feeling goood!!

The great news is – I’ve finally found a new home for  myself. I move this coming weekend from my temporary digs in deepest darkest Suburbia-Urbia, to a central, close-to-work-suits-my-needs-flat. I’ll be a 35 minute walk from work, or a much shorter push-bike, bus or tram ride. I’ll be living close to the city and my Melbourne friends again too.

I’m gonna retrieve my worldly possessions from storage, and start the process of setting up what will be (I think) my nineteenth place of residence. Let’s  hope I get to live in this one for a while, although with my track record I won’t hold my breath…

This marks a turning of the wheel for me. When I packed up my life back in June, I was also closing the door on the last few years. Symbolically and literally. But it hasn’t been easy. And sure, I know its not the end of the road just yet. But it is the beginning of the end of the reign of terror that Andre brought into my life, which I allowed to remain and flourish.

My new home is, interestingly enough, in the same neighbourhood I lived in when I was assaulted. Just a few blocks away. And I’m okay with that. Really.

My story however, is far from over.

I’m still not done posting about earlier parts of this story, and I haven’t quite gotten around to talking about my experiences on retreat in Thailand that allowed me to release so much of the pain I’d been holding onto. But without a doubt, I will…

My fears and issues still exist – especially around letting anyone get close to me – I’m working on ’em! There’s still alot to do, and many things that need changing.

I’m reconstructing my life again, but not necessarily in its former shape. And I have all the tools I need, for now anyway. I have an income, I will soon have a new home. I have some great friends in Melbourne, Sydney and around the globe. And even some I’ve come to know and begin trust via my blog – you folks know who you are. Muchas gracias!

Something important I’ll be doing in the short term is taking on a flatmate. I’m renting a two bedroom place just big enough to share. I could afford to live there by myself, but the extra cash will pay off some of my debts faster. However this is more crucial for another reason.

Whilst in Thailand, I spent some time getting to know one of my yogi brothers better and we talked a great deal about community and the social benefits of having a flatmate. Which got me thinking. Its very easy for me to live as a hermit. I kinda enjoy my time alone just a bit too much.

But I don’t think that’s helped my healing process at all. When you live alone and choose who you let in the door, its very easy to keep everyone out.

In doing just that, I’ve built up walls of concrete, marble and steel around my heart. I needed protection at the time, but now no one can get in. Even today, its not easy. I simply don’t trust most people. Sure, I look and act friendly enough, but just try scratching the surface a little…

Regardless, I need to try because I no longer want that experience. So I need to break down my current patterns. Starting with learning to share a home.

For I don’t just want to break down those protective layers, I want to open my heart wider than it ever was. To grow beyond anything I ever thought possible.

So this is not back to the status quo. Its the beginning of a new direction.

~Svasti