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.
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