Bad days and life wasted in meetings aside, I’ve always believed in people. Teen years to now. It was back in Marion where I decided that Religion was not part of my view of the universe in my late teens. And I never looked back. Not once. Ever. That does not say that I don’t resonate with the feelings of those who do pray, experiencing something they can’t explain or, like my aunt talks about, memories we have from somewhere else beyond our own experience.
Today was the fifth session with my tattoo artist Andy, from Long Street Collective, for the back piece I am doing for my 50th birthday coming up early next year. The story I’m telling is, by very nature, about a deity, choices, doors, gratitude and paying it always forward after every threshold I cross. It was a good day as I used Band Aid Hurt Free for the first time. It did not remove the pain but it helped disconnect my brain wiring from the anxiety of the constant feelings the needles cause. For the first time, my fists were not clenched and cramped by the end of this session. It’s an incredible experience to be in tune with some one to the degree that they know you enough to write a story on your body. Now that the pattern is complete it’s all about the larger format tools to do all the shading… and there’s a lot more to do.
After that, I went to a psychic fair where one of my long term friends, someone I view as a Dowager Empress of parties in Columbus, read me. It was not Tarot or anything. Just a bunch of rocks on a board cross sectioned by what makes the human experience, well, human I guess. Just like he did for Eddie and I before we ripped our lives apart for a company in the process of a sale. When we jumped across the Country to relocate to Dallas. The warnings were there. Bruises and lessons were garnered over our 7-year experience in Texas. Still, we had the strength to come back to Ohio. The home where people called us by our names.
So when he’s telling me that these rocks are telling him that I have chosen to create a big noise in my sector of something about wanting to teach/mentor/communicate it sort of reminds me of writing these blog posts, or that session I did for the Columbus Web Group on mindfulness in the workplace and most especially my work with the AHA on the Support Network. He told me that my throat chakra is super engaged with hearing, smell and speech but at the tail end of a spiral of my life like some childhood game of “spin the chain” with my intellect and community stones at dead center. All this kind of talk makes me a little uncomfortable because it’s not my natural language. Like tattoos, I mean to approach life, however short or long it might be, with a “let’s fucking do this” attitude.
Yet I have to admit that I have treated meditation as medication. TA’s rocks today made me think that, maybe, there’s more to it? He told me that my upper 3 chakras were absolutely on fire. Yet my solar plexus chakra was basically cranky. So I’ll be reading up on that soon I guess.
At the end of Saturday… this is exactly how I want to live it. Thinking, celebrating, conversing, feeling de-groovy, painted on by needles and observing where the stones fall while having a good time in the process.