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stromboli leaves messes

Updated: Mar 18, 2021

synchronicities align. these two words are the theme of this year. when they occur, i find myself pausing, taking a breath, and looking out into the distance. a reminder.

everything is in alignment with a greater purpose. the how is trivial for now. focus on the now and the how will present itself in time to come. those who don't take the time to recognize what the higher power is showing them will never understand this. i used to be one of them. that is, until i woke up. and when you're awake, you don't really want to go back to sleep; the world is this beautiful treasure hunt. because that's what you are living, a treasure hunt. plot twist. the treasure is from withing. and there are blissful gems along the way. as long as you pay attention.

i share with you two visions i experienced in the last two weeks. perhaps it will elucidate shifts in your life as well. major stints in my present life credit these visions as i am able to navigate into the conscious better. i now work solely in this medium. not in any rhetorical measure, albeit within a soulful personification true to an authentic experience. my breathing has intrinsically improved. lungs not caught in a nicotine tornado anymore. the medium is in intuition and self-assurance. synchronicities also present themselves as clues guiding me through difficult decisions. for the remainder of this post, i shall highlight such synchronicities with *.

it had been months since my last major hypnosis. i hauled this antiquity in hope of anything altering my present state. like a drug, meditation/hypnosis came in hard at the beginning. i needed more, so i did more. like a teacher's pet i ran to each and every occasion i could elevate my mind. and then, one day it stopped. i allowed many external causalities in to disarm me. current frame of mind issued a bleak prescription. bought my first pack of cigarettes in six months a week ago. so needless to say, i was looking for a sign. a big one. something to grab my shoulders and shake me. the more i forced it, the farther i felt from it all.

tuesday. drove down the coast. rain littered the streets. the kind where you feel the ocean turn upside down. an elderly woman walked on the sidewalk. she was soaked. hundreds of cars passed her, not one stopped. i gave her a lift. i admit she was a little apprehensive to see an androgynous, queer woman of color approach her. when i offered to take her luggage, she offered to give me a shot. she is a republican who had holes in her gloves. the conversation was light, respectful, and very right-wing ::smiles:: so much traffic. california stalls when water comes from the sky. blasphemy. what was supposed to be a 20-min drive turned into a 45-min commute… one way. we had to stop every 3 mins. the universe was telling me to stop. stop. go. and stop again. it wasn't a smooth trip. i got her home. and then i went home.

what did this mean? no fucking clue. i stored it in the hippocampus and moved on.

hypnosis instructed me to envision a spinning *vortex above my head, much like the bristles at a *car wash. clockwise. drilling a radiant amount of energy down into through my body. select an issue you are trying to heal. nothing came to me immediately. there were too many to be honest, i was overwhelmed. so i surrendered to whatever came whenever it did. walk down. as i relaxed and prepared my body for this session, i saw baby ab, toddler ab, teenage ab, and twenties ab. they all came to me as i lie on the couch. baby ab was excited, probably the most excited. the cutest, her perfect teeth gleamed. i used to be that kid; someone who got excited for the most rudimentary things. i miss that. they decided to come with me. this eased my nerves.

strangely, i could feel every one of them. i mean, they were me…but just in different ages in my past. i could feel baby ab's giggle, toddler ab inquisitively running her fingers on a windowsill, and teenage ab rolling her eyes. i felt it all. embodied every emotion and sensation. wild.

we walked down a long flight of stairs that faced an *open ocean. we lived here. *a home above on the cliff. as we walked in a line (much like a mama duck and her duckling babies), the stairs swung a hard corner. we were then in a tropical forest. different shades of green bounced off saturated crevices. moss covered every surface. branches hung loosely with, yes, more moss. our toes felt the spongey ground. i didn’t want to leave here. it was beautiful. a voice rattled from within: you must leave, but you will be able to come back. trust me. all the while, the vortex penetrated my body. ridding my negative thoughts, traumas, everything. i could feel the negativity flying off. i got lighter. though i knew i was not having an out-of-body experience, i felt like my body was rising above the couch.

your body responds to the words you tell it. and the pictures you make in your head from this day on are yours to change; the way you feel about anything is because the pictures you make in your head and the words you tell yourself. i turned another corner. i was in the same forest. strange. i just walked out of it?? i realized that we have to leave our present situation and revisit it with a clearer mind. if it is meant to be, you will be back. do not try to control the process, that's not your job. i picked up the old lady because i had to go back to that time when i had to rely on public transportation. i had to see hear her story because she is 76 years old with nothing but regret in her heart. and she insists on revisiting the past without any insight. reliving the pain, struggle, trauma, etc. i stood in this forest, but my body felt like i was sitting. i looked up—saw my ducklings seated on a ledge. all of them were meditating. baby ab, toddler ab, teenage ab, and twenties ab spread out in a loose line. wild.

*focus on the tingling in your fingers. i placed my fingers on babyab's forehead. espoused her trance-state. felt and saw everything she saw. did the same for each duckling. all of their visions were glimpses of our pasts. memories. good. bad. each memory was them/us going back, but with an altered perspective. no malediction. no transcribed language based on societal expectations. i don't think we, as a society, do enough of this. go back into our past with a different mindset. many of us go back with the same thought (i.e. guilt, regret, remorse, etc.). why go back at all? if you are not making progress, why go back? ask yourself that when you opt to go back into a memory. why am i going back? how can this help me in my growth?

then we climbed a snowy mountain. my ducklings were close behind. we were the only ones here. three miles to the top. it was freezing. i could feel my body shiver. *we had no gloves. we gave our gloves to those at the bottom of the mountain. what was a selfless act is now a detriment as we climb up this icy mountain. i realized here that you must be cognizant on what you offer to people because you still need enough to live. what "enough" is relational to the person; i bear no opinion or judgment to anyone. they know what they need. all i knew was we were almost to the top of the mountain.

i reached to grab a flag. people needed to know we made it. that's what everyone does. plant a stake to prove their existence and more importantly, the success.

needed one hand to hold my balance, so i resorted to the other to grab the flag. it slipped through my fingers, cut through the palm of my hand. blood poured out of my skin. i slammed my palm into the mountain. i figured the cold would reduce the inflammation. pre-med does things to you. you never seem to be normal when you leave that shit. the ice beneath my hand soaked in blood. so much so that parts of the ice essentially broke off and fell downwards.

i watched it tumble into granular pixels. looked like a super mario game. mushroom gone. parts broke into smaller parts, and so on. dust almost. my ducklings saw the whole process. it occurred to me that no one at the bottom of the mountain would see the blood. those pieces were not going to look and feel like the same as the ones above. though the journey from forest to mountain was filled with rigor and sacrifice, anyone oblivious to this path simply would not understand the satisfaction a person experiences succeeding said challenges.

these individuals cannot comprehend what it took to get here. to the top. negligent in a belief that a fulfilling a purpose takes all versions of your identity. indolent to begin the process, but insist on reaping the benefits from below. they were supposed to be your safety. you tether bears no anchor. they left as soon as you got far enough to where you couldn't see them. breathe in. i know it's a lot. if you want to cry, cry. if you want to scream, scream. breathe through it. don't run. breath.

so why do we seek their approval? look up to the vortex. this was what the vortex wanted me to see/feel. it went deeper inside me. i'm done pleasing the ground. i appreciate and i hold space for its existence. however, it will no longer be an imperious force in my life. i shall surround myself with people who scale their own mountains. high or low. at least they are scaling.

i had no flag, a bloody hand, and a shit ton of gratitude toward myself. this moment was special. only i needed to know this feeling; what good was it to boast to others? the vortex spun above. i told the ducklings to climb down to the bottom; we needed to scale another mountain; this one had reached its limit. as i walked behind them, i looked at my palm. *a huge scar. it didn't magically disappear just because i found a lesson. it was there and will continue to be there. we need these scars to remind us. *remind us of the purpose. it is a fundamental part of the process if you want to pursue your dream/fulfill your purpose.

no audience met us at the bottom of the mountain. flag was gone too. followed my ducklings on an even plane. moss left their shoeprints.



© A.Abeynayake and moldypilow, 2011-2019. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this site’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to moldypillow and/or A.Abeynayake and moldypillow with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

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