Synchronicities and Affirmations
An Honest Experiment #3
Hello again, friends. Another entry is here and I am starting this a little earlier in the week. It’s Tuesday, and as my last entry, I will continue to add more throughout the week until I publish this.
I write this in the wake of the high noon sun pouring into the window after a serious conversation with myself. The timing of the rays hitting my face and arms through the blinds as though it was screaming ‘YAAAS!’. Truth spilling from my lips and into the walls of my bedroom. But I couldn’t help it. I had to open that window, let the light in, embrace it, feel it. I had to allow this little coincidence to shower me with this sublime love.
This honesty project is starting to make waves in my heart and soul. All the fear that has held back numerous truths is being ushered into the daylight and told that it’s okay to speak. I am finally starting to listen to my own advice.
It's difficult to break the silence when you fear the consequences, or at least you fear that doing so will get your hopes up towards a better understanding or a resolution, only to have your heart broken again. I hear you and I’ve been grappling with that fear myself. And it doesn’t help when the universe around you puts up that resistance. Taking everything in omens and signs that tell you “Yes, you need to speak up.”
So my lovely reader, if you’re sick of these signs and synchronicities shoving it in your face, maybe it’s time to listen.
Another thing I wanted to do with this particular instalment is to share with you some affirmations I will be collecting this week. Here is the first one:
I am a being of light and truth and love.
This one came to me last night with the intent to be open to what’s coming and trust that it will lead to better days and greater love. I wish this for all of you.
I write this on a Thursday night, it’s about 6:50 pm, and I’ve got my matcha latte with me after a particularly lazy day. Or perhaps it wasn’t so lazy? I don’t want to think of it as such. I will leave that up to interpretation. Would getting started on a Sex and the City binge for the first time count as a lazy day? I’m choosing to count it as research, for in the 20+ years since it first aired on TV, I had not seen it. I know, shocking. I had no particular interest in it, and yet time once again plays a part in this series. To think, there were women around back in the late 90’s and early 2000’s watching this and marking it as gospel for the modern professional, sex-positive woman. Going through flaky men and breakups and mixed messages and struggling with self-empowerment like I am. To this day, we watch or reference this show and try to categorise ourselves among the four leading ladies. Are you a Samantha or a Miranda? How to find out if your ‘Mr Big’ is going to finally admit ‘you’re the one.’ What rules do we have to follow or throw out in order to find fulfilment or happiness or true love? I wonder if this project is just a terrible attempt at releasing my inner Carrie Bradshaw?
Damn, I hope not, but we’ll see…
I don’t want to talk about sex or men or the dating pool in New York City (How can I? I’ve never been!), but I make no promises. This is just a stream of words, unedited drivel, leaving a mark, my writing on the wall, all that jazz. I’m annoying myself just mentioning it again. I promise I won’t from here on out.
So yesterday (Wednesday, 8th of June), my mood was up and down. I had a call with someone I missed in order to clear the air and make arrangements to move on in life. I had a good cry when I needed it, did myself up, and went out with friends to eat, drink and have a dance. I don’t know what it was about this night, but something reawakened in me. I had forgotten how much I loved to dance. It had been about 3 or 4 years since I had last danced at a bar. It was liberating, and the world opened up just a little more with all the possibilities. The vortex of alcohol and smoke and heat, of bodies grinding and gyrating, eyes darting across the room for that one person you’re going to share in this stupor, make some mistakes, make memories. I ignored it all. I was just enjoying the freedom of the moment, dancing, singing, and taking a huge step towards letting go.
The conversations I had in between blew my brain. I had a good talk with a friend about trauma-dumping and the stages we are at when we enter into attachments. They were fascinated by human interactions and the psychology of relationships, sexual, platonic, romantic, all kinds, and the information and experiences they shared with me made me recollect quite a lot of truths I had neglected over the years. I didn’t ignore them, they were glaringly obvious, but my attempts to remedy and build from them never broke ground.
I am in the process of finding another land to build this life. Wherever that is, I can only wait and see.
I began this entry talking about synchronicities and signs from the universe, and last night my belief in them was shaken. I had spent hours — no, days — scrolling through Tik Tok or YouTube, looking up psychic mediums and relationship counsellors and coaches. It is difficult to take them on board knowing the various algorithms that put these videos in your path if you provide a sliver of interest in it. But indeed, does the universe not do the same? Does the energy you put out not always come back to answer? At least that’s what a lot of spiritual people would say.
This is the dilemma I found myself in, just about ready to debunk everything I wrote on Tuesday, both doubting and hoping it is true that such things are put in your path as a sign. All those untagged clips on my For You Page, heaps of live tarot readings for the collective kept saying the same things.
“Success is coming…”
“Your gifts are getting stronger…”
“Someone is unsure about you…”
“You’re going to move on…”
“Take action…”
“The truth will come out…”
“They made a mistake...”
Such messages that come through are comforting and affirm some of those hopes you keep close, but they can’t always be good for your self-improvement. Even so much as a seed in the mind can be the sturdiest, deeply rooted tree of consciousness and acceptance, or the most violent growth of weeds that keep you tangled in the illusion.
And so I share this mantra with you:
I have the ability to discern the harsh truths I need from the desirable lies that trick me and it awakens in me NOW.
Simple, firm, and empowering. I hope it can come in handy when those omens bombard you with so many mixed messages.
Monday of the long weekend. The shifts I worked the past 3 nights were a mix of highs and lows as the moon got closer to her full figure. Last night it was quite easy to catch a glimpse of the glow beyond the roofs of nearby buildings while collecting glasses in the smoking areas. The winter chill made its presence known in full force out there.
The inside was no better, the hot breath of the heaters and warmth radiating off the few bodies barely counteracted the cold. The Happy Hour songs that were softly playing only sang painful reminders of that special person I loved. Hendrix, Santana, The Beetles, the Doors. All rtists that I so strongly associate with them. I believe so deeply that they will reach that same level of profound genius that future generations will recognise and tease friends for not knowing their name, as shameful and hurtful as that attitude is. The DJ came in a few hours into my shift with effective remixes of 80’s, 90’s and Naughties Pop, RnB, and Hip Hop that I begged for to take away that melancholy, but it was replaced with something worse. All the break up songs.
It seemed I couldn’t escape it. I nearly teared up in the washroom to a dancy version of Total Eclipse of the Heart, which was brilliantly mixed by the way, and the late night crowd seemed to get down. But in all that I got in touch with the flux of denial and acceptance. As much as I miss their company, their love, their light, their warmth, they aren’t coming back. And I need to let go and move on.
After a week getting closer to that feeling that I’m alright without them, it’s small things that can bring it back that separation sickness. But this espresso depresso is not going to fuel the end of this post. Instead I have something that helps me move forward, and I hope that it will help you too. Whether you believe in the cycles of the universe, in reincarnation, whatever the case, setting this intention of rebirth in new forms can bring you closer to a state of love or health or abundance you once had. As Australia chills into winter, as the animals move to new places, they return as new generations, new coats, new evolutions. Like the phases of the moon, turning
So I share this with the intention that all that was lost comes back in a new form. A different face and heart, but the same kind of love. A different community or location but the same feeling of home. A different avenue of creativity but the same passion and fulfillment and so on. Speak this, and trust in those cycles:
All that is good that I have lost will come back to me reborn as I am reborn to meet it.
Use it to bring you closer to what’s better for you in the future, and trust that those things that you miss, those parts of you that you feel are gone will fill themselves up in time, just as strong, just as whole, as you become whole yourself and change form alongside it.
-M