She was born with the fate of the Moon, which forbids her from ever being able to see the Sun.
She was born with the fate of the Moon, which forbids her from ever being able to see the Sun.
A while ago I was cast as a hair model for my hairdresser, a good friend of mine.
Her whole theme behind the shoot was one of the universe and all the planets and their characteristics.
I was chosen to be the moon…which, when you look at what the moon represents, it is very much who I am as a person and the fact I was born in June.
The Moon represents our deepest personal needs, our basic habits and reactions, and our unconscious.
Where the Sun acts, the Moon reacts. How do we instinctively react or respond to problems? What do we feel we need for a sense of security?
The Moon is associated with the mother and with feminine energy in general. The Moon is both our inner child and our inner mother. It is responsive, receptive, and reflective. The Moon is our spontaneous and instinctual reactions.
Just as the Moon circles the Sun, in a symbolically protective manner, and reflects the Sun’s light, the Moon shows how we protect ourselves, as well as make ourselves feel secure, comfortable, and safe.
We can also think of the Moon as that which gives us animation. It rules rhythmic ebb and flow of activity and energy. The Moon is a mediator between the inner world and the outer world. While the Sun is rational, the Moon is irrational. Habitual behaviors and prejudices are ruled by the Moon. Prejudices may not be acted out, as our Sun may censor them, but the Moon rules our spontaneous reactions and feelings.
“Thoughts that do often lie too deep for tears” are the thoughts of your Moon’s nature. The wordless ecstasy, the mute sorrow, the secret dream, the esoteric picture of yourself that you can’t get across to the world, or which the world doesn’t comprehend or value. Modes of expression that you feel are truly your deepest self belong to the Moon: art, letters, creative work of any kind; sometimes love; sometimes business. Whatever you feel is most deeply yourself, whether or not you are able to do anything about it in the outer world, is the product of your Moon.
When we are “acting out” our Moon, we are imaginative, creative, intuitive, sentimental, adaptable, introspective, and protective. On the negative side, we can be moody, restless, and irrational.
When I went and researched the moon and the role it plays in the solar system as a whole, I saw more and more of myself in it. I am a Moon.
And I would not have it any other way.
We all know distance. It can either be literal in that point A is a certain distance from point B, or it can be figurative whereby you distance yourself from a situation or a person or a feeling/emotion.
Sometimes we all need distance. And sometimes distance sucks.
I have been trying to figure out how I am going to distance myself from a few things over the past while. Its actually quite funny…I need distance from a person, a situation and an emotion. All three different distances. From different sources. All for the same outcome: Self preservation.
The person I need distance from is someone who I am clinging on to. I know I am and I know I need to stop. I am clinging to the idea of this person, to the person who I think they are in my mind. however, if I was to be completely honest with myself then I would recognize that the person I have in my mind is not the person in question. They are created entirely out of my half truths, hopeless ideas and a series of flash emotions. Now flash emotions are perfect snippets of emotional awesomeness. They escape, showing themselves to you, and then disappear just as quick as they came. They are not lasting, just as the person who allowed them to escape is not lasting. They are not these emotions, but rather, they allow them to escape to give you just enough hope.
The situation I need distance from is complicated…I don’t really know how to approach this. But I know that it is bringing me down. I can’t be surrounded by negativity. After all the crap that I went through this year, I can’t be surrounded by people who make no effort out of their own to be better and to get better and to feel better.
They are in this constant spiral of negativity, convinced that the world owes them something and that there is no hope.
Yes, I understand that life is rough and it sucks and sometimes all you want to do is scream into a pillow…but then you do and you move on. You realize that you are stronger than you were before and you don’t let your past control you. Don’t become passively alive. Relying on others to make you happy, to give you joy and to save you.
No one is going to save you. Only YOU can save YOU. Because the harsh reality is: Everyone is out for themselves. Its called survival. No one is going to give you life if you don’t take it for yourself. I am surrounded by these people who can’t let go of the past and who let their circumstances control their happiness. STOP IT!
I am so sick and tired of hearing the same sob story over and over again with one person trying to out do the next with an even sadder sob story. With my now diagnosed PTSD-Depression (Sexual Assault ’13) and finally in therapy instead of my past treatment plan of self-medicating myself with cocaine/vodka. I know what my triggers are and one of them is if I am surrounded by negativity…I am one of those people, fighting for survival, and I will do whatever it takes to make myself better and to get better. I do not want to go down that path again and I will be damn if it is due to others bringing me down. I am at a good place in my life right now. I am happy…I don’t want to be dragged down by people who only see their pain, fear, sickness, their past. Who make their pain their life. The be all and end all of everything.
The emotion I need to get distance from is guilt. Proper guilt. For as long as I can remember, I have been made to feel guilty about my actions. I have been made to feel guilty about liking the things that I do, doing the things that I do and being the person that I am. That’s not right.
I get to chose who I am, I get to chose what is right for me and only me. You do not know my life. You do not know my whole story and you have no right to make me feel guilty about the way in which I live my life.
I always say I have Catholic guilt even though I am not Catholic but I was raised in a Catholic/Jewish Home.
My Mother was Jewish but converted to Catholicism when she married my Father. I have been made to feel guilty because of the music I listen to, the tattoos that I love, about wearing so much makeup, my taste in clothes, about liking skulls, motorcycles, about defining my relationship with God based on my personal opinions and not those of others. I know I do not fit into your perfect little box of what you deem to be right and good and proper…but I fit perfectly into my oddly shaped basket. One that is constantly changing, moving, evolving. One that will never be confined. One that will never look like yours.
This post is possibly written out of anger and frustration due to the fact that I really just want this year to end now. I am tired of working at a job for low pay/ long hours, I am tired of the office, family and/or friend politics, I’m missing someone, living in fear of the dark, and I am just plain tired. I am missing my family and wish that I could be spending Hanukkah/Christmas with them. But I can’t, because things are the way they are and I’m here. needless to say, I am not looking forward to the Holidays and would actually like it very much if it just passed by without any pomp or ceremony. I would even go as far as to say that I would much rather spend this time on my own this year, instead of pretending that everything is okay and normal.
That’s my rant for the week. Now it is off my chest, which actually feels good. Now I can breathe again.
That’s the lesson I am learning these days. The other lesson I am learning these days is this: when life has a lesson you are clearly meant to learn, the whole entire world shows up to teach it to you. You get reminders of the lesson in songs. In traffic signs. In conversations. In strangers. Everywhere, through everything, the world shows up to teach you good. And it seems as though life beats that little lesson into you until you hold up your hands in exasperation and say, “Okay. I get it. I’ll learn this. I won’t ignore it any longer. We good? We good?”
Yea, that’s the lesson. And I don’t even mean that to play on a metaphor. I just mean, love is not some sugary, empty thing that looks surface-level pretty but fails to keep you full. If you keep meeting that sort of love then I think maybe you’re meeting an imposter. Some other thing dressed up and pretending to be love. Take caution, I’m no expert. I’m not someone who is going to yell in your face and tell you about the love you deserve. I’m just going to take off my own mask and finally admit it: I’ve worshipped the wrong definition of love for far too long. There was a strange kind of comfort in worshipping my own definition of love— it meant it could never hurt me, control me, surprise me or wreck me. My own definition of love let me be in charge of hurting, controlling, surprising and wrecking myself first.
Love, to me, was this script on repeat:
“Win people. Be worthwhile. Be the one that people want to love. Do what it takes to please them.”
And if someone came to me and said, “Listen, we need to borrow your definition of love. We want to print it in all the dictionaries,” then I would need to pity the world who would have to try to live inside my definition.
Because love, to me, was green eyes that stopped looking in my direction.
Love, to me, was begging to my own strength to try to get it all right.
Love to me was hearing scriptures like “love your neighbor as yourself” and laughing as I whispered, “That’s so funny. I barely even like myself.”
Love was promises we could not keep. Love was disappointment. And walls built up to keep me safe.
Love was moats around castles. It was writing notes to ghosts. It was hinging my worth on being chosen.
Love is all I ever wanted and the one thing I still feel too insecure to admit:
I don’t want it.
I need it.