Newburyport and Fake Commenters, Part III

So I finally investigated Newburyport.

Yes, I know I take the train out of there every morning, but the train station is in a transition area – somewhere between the historical downtown and the residential areas – quick jaunt and I’m there.  This time I turned left instead of right and checked out downtown Newburyport.  Reason:  I needed to have my emerald ring re-sized and the emerald necklace and bracelet extended so that I could slip them on instead of fumbling with clasps so small you needed a magnifying glass to find them.

Nice place, if somewhat lacking in public parking.  Found the jewelry store; picked up a hand-out, “The Screening Room” which specializes in indies instead of blockbusters – like, whoever heard of “Hector and the Search for Happiness”?  Neither did I.  November 7-20.  May go watch it.  Simon Pegg.  Stellan Skarsgård.  How can it miss?  Guessing they don’t sell popcorn.  Had lunch at ... somewhere nice ... and visited Ganesh.  Not the deity, the store.  Bought a jasper ring I really loved, and some gorgeous emerald earrings.  If I am in a desperate need for incense ... loved the scent of the store.  Found an advertisement for a farmer’s market at the Tannery, wherever that is.  Found an interesting “hair studio”.  Hair Studio???  Place that cuts hair.  I needed one.  “The Natural Grocer” – may serve as an alternate to the Whole Foods I used for bulk grains in Andover?

Also tried out the alternate route over the Merrimack River that puts me not in Salisbury, but in Amesbury ... there was a day when the bridge I usually take was temporarily closed (police activity, but I have no idea why), and we all sat there waiting for nearly 45 minutes.  Now I can turn around and get home via the alternate route.  So that’s done.

Picked up my two suits that had been altered.  Gave her some more suits.  Have two more to go, but didn’t want to overwhelm her - she’s a nice lady.  Russian, I think.  Bought gas  (I need it:  first second-level class on Tuesday night in Salem, NH).  Stopped at the roadside stand on 286 that sells local honey – they’re closing for the season, so maybe I’ll stop by today for fresh fruits and vegetables.  Needed the local honey to help survive the new local flora pollen I spent last spring sneezing at ... got my annual flu shot last weekend, so I’m not worried about that ... I AM worried about colds, given the number of women spewing spittle, viral venom and germ-infested phlegmy spray all over the trains every day, and discovered honey is a wonderful way to soothe sore throats after my last cold.  Had never tried it before.

Ordered shoes to match the suits.

So basically, I spent yesterday distracting myself from the dark place I was in, and it worked, more or less.

Death to Poseurs du Commentaire, Part III:  here was today’s crap:  "I'm curious to find out what blog system you're using? I'm having some minor security problems with my latest blog and I would like to find something more secure. Do you have any suggestions?   Feel free to visit my website:  "CHEAP IMPORTED SHIT THAT NO ONE WANTS OR NEEDS AND I'M TOO STUPID TO KNOW IT!!!" -  dot com."

Yeah, I have a few suggestions ... betcha won't like them, though.  Here’s one:  want to know what “blog system” I’m using, eh?  Try looking at the URL, the way people with working brains do.  It’s secure BECAUSE it gives me the option of blocking third grade annoyances like you.  And oh yeah – you ARE the “security problem”!  Have a nice day. 

And yet they keep trying - *sigh*.

Cold. Fractured. Disassociated. Sad.

A few days ago I was battling an intense amount of anger, a sense of betrayal, hurt ... all the bad things.  I was not selected for my own job ... and was, simply, devastated, at 8 in the morning, when I was handed the usual bullshit as to why I wasn’t selected.  The minute that happened, both the manager and director came racing back from an offsite event – after I thought I could process the rejection alone, as everyone in the office was in the same event – with a disaster, and I spent the next 12 hours fixing it along with them.  Tried to remain unemotional through the whole thing, and I don’t think either one of them noticed a change in my demeanor, but it was a god-awful struggle.  They were both in extremely bad moods – not AT me, the disaster was not of my doing – but I had to battle their bad moods as well.  I got home at 8:30 at night, exhausted, near tears and utterly depressed.  Every thought I had all the way home was not productive; the best I could manage was convincing myself not to do anything stupid until I was more rational.

Rick Levine’s Daily Horoscope for the following day (a day off, actually):

You may have complicated issues at home to handle that end up getting in the way of more ambitious plans. Perhaps you thought that others would support your ideas, but something doesn't go as expected today. Nevertheless, don't worry too much about your previous strategy, for it can be changed in a moment's notice by someone's surprising reaction. Instead, willingly leap into the great unknown. Dancing with uncertainty now keeps you humble and on your toes.

Humble, huh?  No, I’m pretty much pissed off, not “humble” about it. 

Yesterday’s (when the incident occurred) is even more off-base:

The weight on your shoulders is lighter today because of the progress you are making on more enjoyable aspects of your life. It's finally time to reap the benefits of your recent hard work and take some well-deserved time off. There's no reason to justify your actions; pursuing pleasure is your reward for a job well done.

Think maybe he miscalculated?

I decided I wouldn’t make a definite decision on a path forward, but I had ordered several suits to deliver the training I thought I would be delivering – both of them needed to be shortened, so I found a local tailor.  No matter what I decide, at least I’ll have some semi-attractive business suits to be interviewed in, should my rational decision be to look for work elsewhere.  The local tailor/alterations place doesn’t open until 10 a.m., so I’m waiting for 10:00 to roll around to call for directions. 

I also looked up several seminars I will attend, if I’m still at the same place early next year.  THEY will make me qualified to go anywhere I choose to go.  A few co-workers whispered, “Do what you have to do.” – meaning, I don’t want you to leave, but I’ll understand if you do.  At least I had their support, for which I was grateful.

I had just purchased and received Michelle Belanger’s Watcher Angel tarot and used it on this.  My favorite deck has always been the Crowley-Harris Thoth deck, but I also liked this one, given my affinity for the Grigori, for obvious reasons.  I also like it for not perpetuating the judeo-christian obsession with vengeful and hate-filled deities condemning anyone for loving people they don’t approve of – women like me, in this case.  That’s judaism, islam and christianity’s world – a dark and evil place where men actually believe they’re superior to everything else and women prop up the straw effigies with pitiful and thin-lipped determination even if it kills them.  Well, no one ever said women had an ounce of brain matter or emotional stability, either, so there you go.

But back to my job.  The cards basically confirmed what I already knew – I’m in a very dark place at the moment.  Mr. Signpost had taken a selfie of himself:  cold.  fractured.  disassociated.  sad.  I said it made my heart hurt, but I knew it was because mine did, and I saw myself instead of him in that photo.

I know I’m probably going to have to leave, but don’t know where to ... or when ... or whether I should stick to this industry at all.  I spent so much money going back to Michigan, just so that I COULD advance in this field, and here we are again ... unwanted.  I don’t know where else to go.

I’ll be battling this for a while.

Good Vibrations

Okay, I finally found something else that made me vibrate.

If you’ll recall, I was wondering ... okay, more like agonizing ... over the problem I was having with the voice of l’uno e solo making me vibrate.  I’d never physically felt anything like that before, and felt bothered, bewitched and bewildered by the whole experience.  Another synchronicity – because I have been looking around for the emerald merkaba ring I was given during my initiation, I came across the cd “Merkaba of Sound” by Jonathan Goldman.  Stuck it in the cd player and ... you guessed it!  Vibrations galore!  The effect was sort of mesmerizing.  That alone was so unsettling, I decided not to listen to it until I was actually meditating – if it did what it is supposed to do – I probably needed to be actually in a position where I could learn something from the experience.  More on that in a minute.

Now, I have a few unsettling issues with Goldman himself:  reading the booklet, he credited Drumvalo Melchizedek with teaching him about the phi-oriented counter-rotating star tetrahedron being synonymous with the term merkaba.  I’ve read about Melchizidek.  Not at all sure I trust the guy, or maybe that’s just me – too many distasteful and unpleasant complaints cropping up about him.  But just trying to learn about phi (The Golden Ratio) (as opposed to pi) was something of a challenge for the mathematics-challenged.

Source:  http://www.sacred-art.org/product/blue-merkaba/

Here’s my next question I’ll probably never know the answer to:  why did Piero’s voice cause the same vibrations as the “Merkaba of Sound”?  According to this description, Goldman uses “resonance of the divine name as well as an intoned sound as well as incorporating phi as a sonic ratio to create a new experience in sacred vibrations.”  (And no, I have no idea what means, really.  Just that it made me vibrate, just as Piero’s voice did, the first time I heard it.)  Sooo – Piero’s voice also incorporates phi as a sonic ratio??  And his brother has an ouroboros tattoo?  Interesting brothers, those Barone boys.

While looking “merkaba” up, I ran across the world’s weirdest website, “Human Angels”, full of people announcing they were human angels – the traditional concept of “angels” being the sort whom one would assume were relatively intelligent beings – in unintelligible sentences chock full of misspellings and other idiocy.  Can’t find that website again, as I closed it with an expression of utter disgust on my face, but found another example of merkaba-related lunacy:

“Dear children of light, we come to you yet again with another upgrade for the heart center of your being. We ask you allow the emerald green energies to enter you hear center ...”

Source:  http://sacredascensionmerkaba.wordpress.com/2013/07/17/next-72-hours-3-days-emerald-green-heart-code-upgrade-716-719-1000-p-m-us-est-1001-p-m-us-est-pleiades-high-council/

Yeah, you read that right.  Upgrade?  “Enter you hear center”?  What the heck is a “hear center”?  Is that my ear?  I’m supposed to allow “emerald green energies” to slide down my ear canal?  After that, I’m thinking that maybe they should forget sliding down my ear canal (all together now:  “Ewwww ...”) and instead open an elementary school for self-proclaimed “Human Angels” who never made it out of third grade.  You’re telling me this woman is supposedly channeling higher beings – who never heard of “spell check” or “dictionaries” – or even proof-reading?

And you know me:  the minute you hit me with the smarmy, “Dear children ...” of anything – light or otherwise – I’m outa there.  Legitimate deities know me better than that.  Neither Sekhmet or Thoth said anything even remotely like that.  In fact – now that I think about it – neither one of them said anything at all – they communicated with actions, which were unmistakable, and thoughts.

Another one:  Merkaba.org.  Here’s their pitch:

“We are now teaching our ancient wisdom and techniques in a new way using modern words and examples in a series of downloadable recordings and CDs. Our wisdom and techniques when fully taught in the proper way, 5,000 years ago, required 14 years of daily classes for graduation.”

Uh huh.  Their ancient wisdom.  Raises the point:  if they’re channeling anything – which is highly unlikely already – it would simply be “wisdom” – present tense – not “ancient” wisdom.  Isn’t time an artificial construct?  “Ancient” already presupposes a distance in time, and a separation based on that distance.  The beings supposedly being channeled are distant from themselves?

As for the “14 years of daily classes 5000 years ago”, since there are no papyri or hieroglyphics actually covering any such teaching, we’re supposed to buy their knowledge of a “proper way of teaching” from 5,000 years ago?  I don’t think so.  Especially when they’re charging $105.00 for one cd.

Source:  http://www.merkaba.org/basicadvancednew.html

I dunno – here’s my alternative:  try contacting Thoth yourself – he’s infinitely more knowledgeable, he actually WAS as present 5000 years ago as he is today, and he isn’t holding out his hand for your credit card.  My initiation was awesome, life-changing – and oh yes, while I paid for the classes, the initiation was free of charge.

Clarification:  I have no issue with legitimate teachers charging for their time and experience.  But using  the classes I’m attending as an example, if they hadn’t produced tangible results for me, I would certainly not consider giving them a dime for the second year.  And not once did the instructor make a ridiculous claim like that or I would have looked at her in disbelief with both eyebrows raised up to my hairline.

So while I did find a few useful things about the merkaba (and believe me when I tell you THAT website I cited wasn’t one of them), I wasn’t able to find a replica of the ring I was given during my initiation – although I would imagine it would be enormously expensive if I did.  I also  looked up the properties of emeralds:  “a stone of inspiration and infinite patience”, “the stone of successful love”, “eliminates negativity”, “can heal negative emotions” – I can see why they gave me the ring!  The emerald was surrounded by diamonds - one of the diamond properties: “protection against cell phones”!!!  Quick – give me more diamonds!!
 
Meanwhile, Mr. Signpost tweeted, apropos of I don’t know what exactly,  “You are going places you never imagined. Time to get excited about the future.”  Well, actually, HE was in my future, and as for excited ... truthfully, stomach-churning was more like it.  But before showing up in class with mascara running down my face from another crying jag, I thought I’d get the trip down first, and took a practice run to Salem and back.

Utter nightmare.  Route 114 was having construction done and provided a completely unmarked detour; I was in a fury at the abysmally-run State of Massachusetts again before I even got there.

Salem, Massachusetts has to be the most claustrophobic place on earth ... street signs are erratic, street names don’t match maps and their appallingly miniscule streets are one-way and the width of a sidewalk.  In short, an utter nightmare getting there, locating the place where the class was to be held, and getting back out again.  Coming home I suffered through the unmarked detour again and then sat in traffic on Route 1 because the town of Topsfield had decided to have a fair that backed up one of the most heavily trafficked roads in the country for miles – and then some guy driving a mail truck had decided to have an accident at the same spot.  Nearly four hours for a trip that should have taken me 40 minutes.

Thank goodness Mr. Signpost cancelled – I was seriously thinking of doing the same thing after that experience.

On top of everything else, I’m coming down with a cold – and many thanks to the woman on the Newburyport line who coughed all over me last week.

Not that I’m all that concerned about either one, but there are two killer viruses racing around the globe right now, killing people, and we still have women going to work, taking trains, taking subways, all the while toxic as hell, spewing germs all over the place.  The coughers, sneezers, saliva-spewing narcissistic cows wandering around in public killing people are ALWAYS women, I have no idea why.  When they’re not microwaving you with their psychological and emotional addiction to their cell phones, they’re spewing killer viruses all over you.  Reason for the next mass extinction of a species on the planet earth?  WOMEN!!!  (You heard it here first, folks.  And just because I am one doesn’t mean I don’t fully appreciate the utter narcissistic lunacy of my own gender.)


Interestingly enough:  it was a woman exiting her car in the Market Basket parking lot in Seabrook who was wearing a flimsy hospital mask over her mouth and nose, as though she expected to get infected by the Ebola virus in Seabrook, New Hampshire.  I just stared at her in astonishment.

Lastly, I’ve been reading Aleister Crowley’s The Book of Thoth.  Amazing book.  And the first time I’ve had a question answered about the Kabbalah, to wit:  if the concept predates Abraham, which it sounds like it does, why are Hebrew letters involved in the discussion at all?  Shouldn’t we be discussing Phoenician, Sumerian or Egyptian hieroglyphics instead of Hebrew letters?  Crowley had something of the same issue – although you can’t really count up the numerical value of hieroglyphics, can you?  My personal issue on the subject is that something in me objected to employing a letter-counting analysis of a thoroughly distasteful monotheistic and patriarchal suppressive belief system that generated the two awful others:  christianity and islam to be specific.  Crowley’s discussion of the tarot deck he and Freda Harris created is so dense and instructive I’ve been making it through only a page or two a day, but it’s utterly fascinating.

Do Not Read The Next Sign!

I wonder if this has ever happened to anyone else.  You’re told – and it actually makes a lot of sense – that your thoughts are the creative force behind the world you live in.  Everyone pretty much believes that anyway, or you wouldn’t be bombarded with, “You have to think positively!” every time you turn around, to the point where you fight the urge to slap people.  So, okay, for the sake of this argument,  let’s say you believe it.  And you start becoming your own thought police.

The problem is:  there are some of us – and by “some of us”, I mean me – who have a contrary personality.  The minute you tell us we CAN’T do something, we immediately want to prove you wrong and begin plotting ways to do exactly what you’ve ordered us not to do.  The minute I read, “Do not read the next sign!” – you can bet your bottom dollar that I’m going to read it.  And of course immediately regret it, because it’s usually a stupid advertising ploy describing in gory detail the cruelty of your current brand of toilet paper on your sensitive ... whatever.  Point is, while I’ll deeply regret reading the second sign, I can’t seem to stop myself from reading it.  I’m annoyingly contrary (or gullible)  like that.

There are other reactions to a sign like that;  the people who already know it’s an advertising ploy and don’t give a crap about the second message, and those so beaten down that obedience is second nature.  The women who read the first sign and say, “Yes sir, I won’t read it!” – and don’t – are usually the republican women who hold obedience up as a beacon forestalling the encroaching gloom of their inevitable decline, and are also the women who fervently adore domestic discipline (and what’s even funnier:  they also  truly believe the husband is the embodiment of Jesus in their household, so in effect these nutballs are actually begging “Jesus” to spank them hard for being naughty, naughty little girls.  I’m not a biblical scholar or anything, but ... WTF?)

I digress.

So I have become my own thought police.  I discovered that I could go for years without being buried under horrifying thoughts, but as soon as I accept that my thoughts can materialize, I immediately have a hell of a time controlling them.  Would love to know how anyone else has surmounted the problem.

Synchronicity:  one of these days, I will try to describe my initiation ... it was one of those things very difficult to put into words that are sufficient enough to communicate the internal experience.

However, I will relate one very small portion of it – this was the instructions given to me by the two deities who initiated me.  Lots of things I need to do this year (working on disciplining my thought processes being one of them) – another was beginning to learn the art of invocation; it was suggested that there were many other beings who could help me with trouble spots, but I needed to learn how to contact them.  The idea of learning about sigils came into my head, or, more accurately, the picture that Mr. Signpost had posted of a sigil he had created.  I thought, “I should learn how to do that”.

Synchronicity strikes again!!!  Within a few days, he announced he was giving classes in just that very subject. In Salem.  As he appears to have moved back to New York City, his announcement of a Salem class was a bit of a shocker.

Well, for two reasons.  One:  the very deity (Sekhmet) who – whether he knows it or not – has her paw on his shoulder every time I see them together, is the one who gave me the instruction.  And two:  Sekhmet, being my courage-inspiring Goddess, is now making me face returning to Salem, Massachusetts, after I’d sworn I would never set foot in the place ever again, after my brother’s death.  In other words: no sooner had she issued the directive, she’d handed me two tasks in one:  learn about sigils and magickal invocation from Mr. Signpost himself, and secondly, overcome an emotionally debilitating aversion to Salem, Massachusetts.

She doesn’t miss a trick, that magnificent lioness.  If there is one thing I have learned, it’s that she has little patience for whiners and whimperers – “I’ll help you get there, but you have to stand up and walk with me; I’ll not carry you.”  That’s basically the way she is with me.  She was willing to give me a breath of courage to overcome a lifelong needle phobia and inject myself with insulin, but I was the one who had to learn the process for doing it, take the deep breath and actually do it.  No one was more stunned than I was when I did do it.