And once in a moment,
It all comes to you.
Soon as you get it,
You want something new.
– Lyric from It’s All I Can Do
I can’t write a blog entry like It’s All I Can Do and not follow up with something. That was, after all, one of the most emotional days I’ve had in a long time.
I am back to the routine of working on my place. Yesterday, I started painting the meditation room. I wanted to get that room usable so I can start doing energy work again. I also wanted to get back to painting before I lost the impetus.
I am an early riser, and the mornings are too dim to get good painting done. But they are perfect for writing. And, as you know, I’ve been doing a lot of writing. In fact, I think right now there is nothing I enjoy more than writing. Sooner than later, I’m going to get back to my trilogy and then you’ll hear from me a bit less, but for now: it’s all I can do.
A few weeks ago, I did a reading for myself and the 6 of Cups showed up in the challenge position. The 6 of Cups is all about nostalgia. When it is a challenge, it could mean that we’re focusing on painful memories of the past. Or it could be that good memories of the past bring pain in the present (because they are now lost).
For me, the 6 of Cups had never shown itself in the challenge position before. I don’t consider myself very nostalgic by nature. However, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen it in that position – in any reading for anyone. Because of this, I remembered it.
In the weeks that have passed since that reading, I have grown to understand what it was forewarning. I have been haunted by memories ever since – even before finding this place, even before It’s All I Can Do.
The majority of memories were mundane images of my life in San Diego. When I left San Diego, I didn’t look back. I’ve only been to visit once in the 5 years since leaving. It quickly became a place that was not my home and I couldn’t look back at it. After the 6 of Cups showed up, it was all I could do. I couldn’t stop the memories or the twinges of emotion they brought. Maybe last Friday was the culmination of all of that emotion too. I did have so many hopes for my life in San Diego that never came true.
Back to my routine, I have still been listening to It’s All I Can Do each day. I typically spend a bit of time letting it loop in the morning. I haven’t been crying any longer, but I still feel pangs in my gut.
Interestingly, I now feel nostalgic about Friday. As I listen to the song, I remember sitting by the creek near here and shedding my tears into it. It was the perfect day: warm and sunny, and it was my first walk down there since the move.
So, part of what I’ve been doing with this song, is burning new feelings and memories into it. Preparing this house is like preparing me for a new life. I can feel that things are going to be different. I feel twinges of vulnerability – fear of the unknown – but also anticipation for experiences beyond my expectation.
Nostalgia isn’t just about the past – I am realizing.
Have you ever taken a new CD on vacation with you? I’ve done this a few times knowing that that music would forever be imbued with the feelings of that trip. There’s one CD that takes me back to South America in 2002, and two others that take me to Geneva in 2000. Those are two of the longest and most affecting trips I’ve ever taken. They were life changing.
Years ago, I did an Akashic reading for a man where spirit spoke of mental rewiring. It’s a process of digging a new thought-channel that leads one to a happier place. For whatever reason, It’s All I Can Do led to an outpouring of pain. It served me well – and might not be completely over yet. However, the nostalgic feelings of regret of the past can now be turned into anticipation of intimacy and connection in the future. Those experiences I wanted in my youth can still be achieved in this lifetime, even if they look a little different.
This is a manifestation technique. It is creating the donut hole first, and letting the rest of the pasty fluff up around it. It’s focusing on the pure diamond center of an experience. The heart of any experience is the set of emotions felt.
For many years, I didn’t allow myself to dream. I didn’t fantasize about anything important that I wanted because I was merely reminded of the pain of not having it. As part of opening back up, it’s time to dream again. I have to reach for these experiences to obtain them.
When you paint your own place, you touch every inch of wall. As you live in the space, you can look at the corners and remember touching them with your brush.
So, for now, I’m painting my future life. I’m coloring corners of my heart that have been untouched for a while. I’ll let you know how it goes…
And once in a night,
I dreamed you were there…
– From It’s All I Can Do