Reading report. I finished One L by Scott Turow on Saturday. T lent it to me in anticipation to the hell that I will soon enter (a true friend, indeed). One L was published by Turow in '77 as mostly journal excerpts from his first year at Harvard Law. It's masterfully written (seriously, who writes publishable journal entries?), documenting and describing his 1L experience, which for laypeople, is equivalent to academic hazing.
My father, friends' parents, recent graduates, and law student friends have tried to convey the unparalleled universe known as law school. I admit that it has not fully sunk in, though, One L certainly helped impress on me how I can avoid common pitfalls. The book introduced me to legal-speak and traditions as well. All valuable information.
I regret that Turow prefaced his account by saying that his experience was not very atypical. After all, Havard Law School (HLS) does not seem all that representative. Trust me, I realize that each instution adopts its own traditions and that law school is formulatic at all schools subsuming relatively few changes since 1977, but still it was evident that attending the best law school in the world makes your 1L less comparable. I found this fact mildly irritating, though, forgivable because of Turow's superb writing.
Not much else. I've been mentally preparing for law school for two years. I have read a great deal about debates over legal education to how law school environments often burden blacks and women. I have this knowledge plus the steady stream of advice imparted from friends and family. I'm feeling good and have found myself refining my reasons for enrolling.
Legal education does not seem to be like a lawyer trade school--it teaches you the law (like a scholar) than it does instruct you how to practice (like a lawyer). I've proven to be a sound scholar when I focus so that's encouraging (despite my mid-level LSAT scores). Too, I desperately need a new challenge in my life. I'm a little restless. I excelled on my thesis when it felt purposeful. I'm trying to imagine my potential when I believe that my academic pursuit is tangibly valuable (I'm less so speaking of money as I am that I can see the fruits of my labors). Gosh, potential, that's another blog, too. Brain's on speed this weekend.
It's all just so exciting.
"Do what you wanna do, Just let the sun come shining through--everybody!" - Everybody, Lenny Kravitz.
See ya,
R.
Sunday, April 20, 2008
Athlete's Anonymous
Me: "Uh...I'm Richael."
AA: "Hi Richael!"
Me: "Yeah, OK. I'm Richael and I'm a recovering athlete."
Facilitator: "Richael, are you recovering from an injury or from athletics?"
Me:"Neither, I think."
Facilitator: "Uh hum. What brings you here tonight, Richael?"
Me: "I hope to regain my athlete-identity."
AA: Applause.
Facilitator: "Well, I believe that you've come to the right place."
I abandoned sports eight years ago. Soaked in irritation, I walked off the soccer field after a particularly unsportsman-like game, vowing to never return to the competition-crazed environment from which I escaped. In hindsight, choosing to leave soccer --more than a game but a passion--was the singularly hardest choice I've made. I look upon my choice now as my second, life-defining loss, an absence that I have long-mourned and felt deep nostalgia. I was able to play several more games in high school through a friendship league, and joined a mid-level team this past fall, yet it's not the same.
I left soccer, and essentially, my athletic-self when I was 14 when it became clear that the activity which I loved the most, was simultaneously the source of bitterness and resentment. Soon after I listened to a Junior Olympic coach's speech about the necessary total-commitment to soccer in order to achieve ulimate success, and moreover, to justify our fulfilled commitment to this fragile point, I made the only decision I could. At a precise moment, I subconsciously selected against the game. I was fed up with the coercive metriocracy designed for young women to fight one another for self-valuation. Even more so I was driven away by the bordering delusionary competitive ethic which pervaded players and parents alike.
We, as talented soccer players and young women, were led so far away from the reasons we continued to play that we weren't able to critically see the highly-politicized and destructive competition system we had unwittingly entered. I was finished with seven day a week training and my showboat father who made me loathe seeing a ball. I quit, and I did so years earlier than my counterparts, few whom persisted to play high school or even college-level soccer. We were all burned out, though, I may have been among a minority who viewed the problems with beginning competitive training at 7 years old and domineering male coaches as part of a broader commentary about the worst American values.
I went on quickly pick-up lacrosse (in an unusual way), play basketball, and learn powerlifting at at a reasonably competitive high school level. I shied away from depletingly-dominating coach personalities and relied on team-building values as survival strategies. Never again, I told myself, would I tumble down the high-stakes competitive black-hole to which I nearly fell victim during my early life. Today, I'm still healing, yet I've begun to embrace the residue from those formative seven years as an elite trainee.
Re-defining my athlete identity is largely determined by two tasks. I've noticed more often about values I possess shaped by sports. I attribute my draw to volunteerism, and eventually activism, to soccer. Numerous team-building ethics are relevant to public service of all shades. I'm able to keep my head in illness-inducing competitive environment--instead, I keep my own pace and manage my stress well. I'm able to reduce intimidating challenges into dissectable pieces with a mental agility earned from constant problem solving on the field. I appreciate things for what they are, and even understand how healthy competition can be fun and good-spirited. Unlike many of my peers, I also have cultivated my own definiton for success, and truly know that losing is wholly instructive. These values and perspectives are from soccer, basketball and lacrosse (team sports which I have played). Self-determination, goal-setting, and paced challenges are from weight-lifting. Each important in their own rite.
I've discovered that those near and dear to me have no idea what any of this means. (We may, for example, deeply disagree about how to interpret the Bejing Games controversy.) A couple friends who labored with music relate on some level. But since sports, specifically women's sports, possess such an embattled and unique place in American culture, my experience is most accessible to other recovering athletes. I should take this opportunity to add that being an athlete is more than playing a sport or sports. I think my previous comments implicitly share how the culture and ethics surrounding athletics is special, and potentially worthy of another blog entry. Suffice it to say that I've always been comfortable being labeled an athlete in the same way I've been called an intellectual, or just plain dork. A good athlete is a good intellectual.
I'm inspired to re-claim my athlete identity since I am on the road to returning to the physical shape of my former self. That's one of two essential parts. The second involves re-constructing my athlete mentality. Pushing myself toward physical goals is encouraging and exciting.
I got this!
See ya,
R.
AA: "Hi Richael!"
Me: "Yeah, OK. I'm Richael and I'm a recovering athlete."
Facilitator: "Richael, are you recovering from an injury or from athletics?"
Me:"Neither, I think."
Facilitator: "Uh hum. What brings you here tonight, Richael?"
Me: "I hope to regain my athlete-identity."
AA: Applause.
Facilitator: "Well, I believe that you've come to the right place."
I abandoned sports eight years ago. Soaked in irritation, I walked off the soccer field after a particularly unsportsman-like game, vowing to never return to the competition-crazed environment from which I escaped. In hindsight, choosing to leave soccer --more than a game but a passion--was the singularly hardest choice I've made. I look upon my choice now as my second, life-defining loss, an absence that I have long-mourned and felt deep nostalgia. I was able to play several more games in high school through a friendship league, and joined a mid-level team this past fall, yet it's not the same.
I left soccer, and essentially, my athletic-self when I was 14 when it became clear that the activity which I loved the most, was simultaneously the source of bitterness and resentment. Soon after I listened to a Junior Olympic coach's speech about the necessary total-commitment to soccer in order to achieve ulimate success, and moreover, to justify our fulfilled commitment to this fragile point, I made the only decision I could. At a precise moment, I subconsciously selected against the game. I was fed up with the coercive metriocracy designed for young women to fight one another for self-valuation. Even more so I was driven away by the bordering delusionary competitive ethic which pervaded players and parents alike.
We, as talented soccer players and young women, were led so far away from the reasons we continued to play that we weren't able to critically see the highly-politicized and destructive competition system we had unwittingly entered. I was finished with seven day a week training and my showboat father who made me loathe seeing a ball. I quit, and I did so years earlier than my counterparts, few whom persisted to play high school or even college-level soccer. We were all burned out, though, I may have been among a minority who viewed the problems with beginning competitive training at 7 years old and domineering male coaches as part of a broader commentary about the worst American values.
I went on quickly pick-up lacrosse (in an unusual way), play basketball, and learn powerlifting at at a reasonably competitive high school level. I shied away from depletingly-dominating coach personalities and relied on team-building values as survival strategies. Never again, I told myself, would I tumble down the high-stakes competitive black-hole to which I nearly fell victim during my early life. Today, I'm still healing, yet I've begun to embrace the residue from those formative seven years as an elite trainee.
Re-defining my athlete identity is largely determined by two tasks. I've noticed more often about values I possess shaped by sports. I attribute my draw to volunteerism, and eventually activism, to soccer. Numerous team-building ethics are relevant to public service of all shades. I'm able to keep my head in illness-inducing competitive environment--instead, I keep my own pace and manage my stress well. I'm able to reduce intimidating challenges into dissectable pieces with a mental agility earned from constant problem solving on the field. I appreciate things for what they are, and even understand how healthy competition can be fun and good-spirited. Unlike many of my peers, I also have cultivated my own definiton for success, and truly know that losing is wholly instructive. These values and perspectives are from soccer, basketball and lacrosse (team sports which I have played). Self-determination, goal-setting, and paced challenges are from weight-lifting. Each important in their own rite.
I've discovered that those near and dear to me have no idea what any of this means. (We may, for example, deeply disagree about how to interpret the Bejing Games controversy.) A couple friends who labored with music relate on some level. But since sports, specifically women's sports, possess such an embattled and unique place in American culture, my experience is most accessible to other recovering athletes. I should take this opportunity to add that being an athlete is more than playing a sport or sports. I think my previous comments implicitly share how the culture and ethics surrounding athletics is special, and potentially worthy of another blog entry. Suffice it to say that I've always been comfortable being labeled an athlete in the same way I've been called an intellectual, or just plain dork. A good athlete is a good intellectual.
I'm inspired to re-claim my athlete identity since I am on the road to returning to the physical shape of my former self. That's one of two essential parts. The second involves re-constructing my athlete mentality. Pushing myself toward physical goals is encouraging and exciting.
I got this!
See ya,
R.
Monday, April 14, 2008
Looks Good on Ya
I want to look really good in a red track suit while doing the robot. That's the healthy I'd like to be. Smooth-movin', form-fittin', disco-livin' healthy.
I'm a 22 year-old who is acutely aware of her mortality. In fact, I have a long-standing joke that some random universal event--a flying space toilet--may end this life of mine after 25 years.
May 2, 2010. Kaput!
Living fully is easier to do when you are counting the days. I'm petrified that the toilet may meet my crown a month--week--day early. Too early. I believe that I'm prepared for death insofar I have done everything that I need to do. Not everything in the world, not every opportunity, not even a lot of things, but everything that I feel necessary in this lifetime. In actuality, this moment is not a fixed date; it will be a feeling, very much like receiving a letter in the mail. If I am attending a million-person rally, operating a flying car, or exploring the Arctic's remains, and I know I'm finished, I plan to lie down into permanent sleep.
Health is on my mind. Today: doctor's visit to check an abnormally-grown mole on my leg, update a prescription for past acne, and take a horomone blood-test; 11-minute mile on treadmill, upper-lower-oblique ab exercises, 12 miles on bike; conversation with personal trainer who approached me on the bike that ended with a 8am consultation tomorrow; budgeting for my May dental work and chakra reading; hair appointment made for next week; and of course, a french manicure.
I got wise after graduation. I decided to really love myself, which meant paying close attention to how my body feels, what I put into it, how I challenge it, and how to care for it. Same for my mind and spirit. I do this in-spite of the doctor's expression when I asked her specific health-related questions, as if I wanted her first-born before she crossed the room. Probably wouldn't been comparable in health-care costs...
While driving from the doctor's office to my gym, I heard a clip on the radio about a former NPR Morning Edition commentator who is recovering from spinal cancer. He had surgery to remove it, only to suffer a stroke and ascertain a Staph infection, another surgery, and have the cancer return for yet another surgery. After previous (failed) cancer-treating treatments, three spinal surgeries, stroke and an infection, his daily life changed. (Before he was able to maintain about his same routine as in his pre-cancer life.) I recall when my life has changed after being sick. Like how initially developing asthma in college changed all activity in my life. It was terrorizing once being a world-class athlete to being barely able to walk across campus.
Health is one of those qualities in which it is much harder to appreciate it while it is good. Still possible, though. I'm challenging myself to run a 9 minute mile one day. I want to attend a sangha retreat within the year. I will discipline myself to be a high-achieving law student.
Health matters. I want to graduate from the robot to break-dancing, eventually.
See ya,
R.
I'm a 22 year-old who is acutely aware of her mortality. In fact, I have a long-standing joke that some random universal event--a flying space toilet--may end this life of mine after 25 years.
May 2, 2010. Kaput!
Living fully is easier to do when you are counting the days. I'm petrified that the toilet may meet my crown a month--week--day early. Too early. I believe that I'm prepared for death insofar I have done everything that I need to do. Not everything in the world, not every opportunity, not even a lot of things, but everything that I feel necessary in this lifetime. In actuality, this moment is not a fixed date; it will be a feeling, very much like receiving a letter in the mail. If I am attending a million-person rally, operating a flying car, or exploring the Arctic's remains, and I know I'm finished, I plan to lie down into permanent sleep.
Health is on my mind. Today: doctor's visit to check an abnormally-grown mole on my leg, update a prescription for past acne, and take a horomone blood-test; 11-minute mile on treadmill, upper-lower-oblique ab exercises, 12 miles on bike; conversation with personal trainer who approached me on the bike that ended with a 8am consultation tomorrow; budgeting for my May dental work and chakra reading; hair appointment made for next week; and of course, a french manicure.
I got wise after graduation. I decided to really love myself, which meant paying close attention to how my body feels, what I put into it, how I challenge it, and how to care for it. Same for my mind and spirit. I do this in-spite of the doctor's expression when I asked her specific health-related questions, as if I wanted her first-born before she crossed the room. Probably wouldn't been comparable in health-care costs...
While driving from the doctor's office to my gym, I heard a clip on the radio about a former NPR Morning Edition commentator who is recovering from spinal cancer. He had surgery to remove it, only to suffer a stroke and ascertain a Staph infection, another surgery, and have the cancer return for yet another surgery. After previous (failed) cancer-treating treatments, three spinal surgeries, stroke and an infection, his daily life changed. (Before he was able to maintain about his same routine as in his pre-cancer life.) I recall when my life has changed after being sick. Like how initially developing asthma in college changed all activity in my life. It was terrorizing once being a world-class athlete to being barely able to walk across campus.
Health is one of those qualities in which it is much harder to appreciate it while it is good. Still possible, though. I'm challenging myself to run a 9 minute mile one day. I want to attend a sangha retreat within the year. I will discipline myself to be a high-achieving law student.
Health matters. I want to graduate from the robot to break-dancing, eventually.
See ya,
R.
Tuesday, April 8, 2008
Everlasting Laughter
Laughter
Show #401
Friday, February 22, 2008
We all laugh. But why? If you look closely, you'll find that humor has very little to do with it. In this episode, we explore the power of laughter to calm us, bond us to one another, or to spread... like a virus. Along the way, we tickle some rats, listen in on a baby's first laugh, talk to a group of professional laughers, and travel to Tanzania to investigate an outbreak of contagious laughter.
http://www.wnyc.org/shows/radiolab/episodes/2008/02/22
Radiolab, WNYC's eclectic philo-science program, is fabulous. It is one of those shows that springs off the diving platform, splashes into deep water and swims around inside your head. Like sensual thinking for an hour. (Remember, I'm a self-identified "dork.")
I listened to an older show from this season on Sunday evening about laughter (description above). Tuning in to a rat snickering was enough to make me smile.
I laugh a lot. Not in the head-throwing type of way, but more of the subtle, curled lipped chuckle sort. Friends have mine have been stumped by this. They know I'm lighthearted, but always ask, "why are you so stoic?" or "don't you ever laugh?" It's gotten better the last few years. After all, sarcasm or darker humor (unless it's Little Miss Sunshine or Drop Dead Gorgeous) usually doesn't yield bowel-shaking laughter.
But it's all good. I learned from the episode that humor is usually absent when we laugh. Pay attention to the next time you laugh out loud--you'll probably be around other people. Laughter seems to be a neurologically programmed response to a social situation. Whether you're interacting with people, media, or your little inner-voice, we always laugh with an audience. (Hm, kinda funny.)
Also in the episode is a story about professional laughers (actor/actresses as extras). Extraverted types who tailor their laugh for a living. Neat.
And I wasn't able to hear this segment through, yet I was intrigued by a piece about a laughter-sickness in Tanzania. Get this: laughter-affliction. Mysterious.
So I feel a little more normal today. Laughter, like humor, is complex stuff. How I laugh and why I laugh tells me (and others) about myself. I most often laugh by myself as I am speaking to myself most of the time. Too, it kinda explains why I am deeply drawn to unique laughs. Wow.
It's all a good time.
See ya :)
R.
Show #401
Friday, February 22, 2008
We all laugh. But why? If you look closely, you'll find that humor has very little to do with it. In this episode, we explore the power of laughter to calm us, bond us to one another, or to spread... like a virus. Along the way, we tickle some rats, listen in on a baby's first laugh, talk to a group of professional laughers, and travel to Tanzania to investigate an outbreak of contagious laughter.
http://www.wnyc.org/shows/radiolab/episodes/2008/02/22
Radiolab, WNYC's eclectic philo-science program, is fabulous. It is one of those shows that springs off the diving platform, splashes into deep water and swims around inside your head. Like sensual thinking for an hour. (Remember, I'm a self-identified "dork.")
I listened to an older show from this season on Sunday evening about laughter (description above). Tuning in to a rat snickering was enough to make me smile.
I laugh a lot. Not in the head-throwing type of way, but more of the subtle, curled lipped chuckle sort. Friends have mine have been stumped by this. They know I'm lighthearted, but always ask, "why are you so stoic?" or "don't you ever laugh?" It's gotten better the last few years. After all, sarcasm or darker humor (unless it's Little Miss Sunshine or Drop Dead Gorgeous) usually doesn't yield bowel-shaking laughter.
But it's all good. I learned from the episode that humor is usually absent when we laugh. Pay attention to the next time you laugh out loud--you'll probably be around other people. Laughter seems to be a neurologically programmed response to a social situation. Whether you're interacting with people, media, or your little inner-voice, we always laugh with an audience. (Hm, kinda funny.)
Also in the episode is a story about professional laughers (actor/actresses as extras). Extraverted types who tailor their laugh for a living. Neat.
And I wasn't able to hear this segment through, yet I was intrigued by a piece about a laughter-sickness in Tanzania. Get this: laughter-affliction. Mysterious.
So I feel a little more normal today. Laughter, like humor, is complex stuff. How I laugh and why I laugh tells me (and others) about myself. I most often laugh by myself as I am speaking to myself most of the time. Too, it kinda explains why I am deeply drawn to unique laughs. Wow.
It's all a good time.
See ya :)
R.
Saturday, April 5, 2008
Nicomachean
Background: "That Particular Time" by Alanis Morrisette.
About courage. I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be courageous this week since I was forced to make an important decision this weekend.
When was my last courageous decision? How many life-altering decisions have I made?
It should be more than merely sticking to our principles, which I realize is rare, and often how we see courage. Living out our values does not deserve a special designation; no accolades. At the same time, such a quality is more than just making a hard choice. So many people make incredibly hard choices all of the time.
I feel as if courage is the stuff that character is made of--the act of making a choice that reflects who you are and the spirit that resides inside you. I believe that a person can feel a courageous choice being made. When you bear witness to courage you are moved by an awe surrounding the act. One's aura is momentarily revealed.
This weekend courage means making a choice that I would not otherwise make. A seduction to danger or hardship is foolish. Choosing to act is "out of character" proves courage.
Here we go!
See ya,
R.
About courage. I've been thinking a lot about what it means to be courageous this week since I was forced to make an important decision this weekend.
When was my last courageous decision? How many life-altering decisions have I made?
It should be more than merely sticking to our principles, which I realize is rare, and often how we see courage. Living out our values does not deserve a special designation; no accolades. At the same time, such a quality is more than just making a hard choice. So many people make incredibly hard choices all of the time.
I feel as if courage is the stuff that character is made of--the act of making a choice that reflects who you are and the spirit that resides inside you. I believe that a person can feel a courageous choice being made. When you bear witness to courage you are moved by an awe surrounding the act. One's aura is momentarily revealed.
This weekend courage means making a choice that I would not otherwise make. A seduction to danger or hardship is foolish. Choosing to act is "out of character" proves courage.
Here we go!
See ya,
R.
Wednesday, April 2, 2008
Poetics of the Soul
"Unlike the visionary folk artists who inspire her, Saar does not see the soul as in need of spiritual purification. For her soul is a site for excavation--holding archeological stores of emotional meaning to be examined without judgement...Value is found in the nature of searching. " - bell hooks,Chapter 1: Poetics of the Soul, Art on My Mind: Visual Politics.
"Searching" has been a thematic part of my life since May. And today, I made yet more progress through an exceptionally in-depth tarot reading. An excavation site without judgment.
T and I researched a few options and found a spiritual guide in DuPont Circle to visit today. I passed by palm readings for tarot but as the reading unfolded, it became so complex that psychic and introductory chakra readings became necessary supplements.
Clearly, I am undergoing a lot of psychic changes :)
Before I could sit down, my advisor told me that I was a "very old soul" with at least two past lives. She proceeded to ask me my age in this life: 22.
Next, she immediately detected that I harbored "stagnant energy" -- restless feelings for the past two years. So far, so good.
Of what she shared in our twenty-five minute session, three catergories of insight emerged: knowledge about my personal life that I cannot share on a blog, knowledge about my future, and knowledge about my stagnation.
Future:
-I'll live into my late 80's, a healthy and fulfilling life.
-I'll become incredibly successful, as in "life-altering" successful.
-I'll become a published writer, self-employed, and be connected to foundations, philantrophy.
-I'll have material wealth by age 30.
-She was able to describe my life partner (I'll omit details here :)
-2008 is a positive year for me marked by the beginning of May.
Stagnation:
-Although on some level I enjoy my work, I feel restless about it because it does not employ all of my talents nor does it satisfy my breadth of interests. Law school is a good choice.
-My last year was a romantic rollercoaster.
-I'm remarkably persistent. That is, I'm able to hit a wall, brush myself off, and continue on. Problem is that I often continue into the same wall. My environment does not appreciate my talents and this is easily recognized by "thank you's" or lacking thereof. I must change my environment to become appreciated and move beyond the stagnation that I've experienced for two years.
-The source of imbalance? Point #2, my sex chakra. It is where our basic energy resides according to Vedi beliefs. Therefore, other points may be aligned, but since my foundation is unstable, I'm misaligned.
It's this revelation which resonated the most. I've been aware...searching...for a way to understand the mismatched energies and resulting choices from my past year's romantic challenges. Yet I never felt I appropriately eqiupped. A chakra reading will put me on the right path to identify my most significant source of vexation. I intend to do this soon.
I hope that this entry serves a reminder that energy-work can be deeply important and profoundly real, although, I realize that many of us have fun with Tarot, too. At the same time, we all "know" in different ways, and this is one way I uncover knowledge for myself. Spiritual guides help validate or re-direct my own initution in a similar way others use religious text or advisors to map their destiny. I've been reassured today with a geniune-feeling reading consistent with information I've learned from past readings. I'm also happy that T entered the energy-world as well.
Perhaps most significantly, I was able to share this insight with my mom tonight. I felt the conversation very moving. She's the person I credit all of my spiritual growth, since she was the only person I knew growing up who demonstrated trust in intution, universal connectedness and energy's existence. She inspired me to "seek" through the universe. I was happy to tell her as much. In the coming years, I'll try to convey to her that it is this value which is so integral to who I am and who I will eventually become.
See ya,
R.
"Searching" has been a thematic part of my life since May. And today, I made yet more progress through an exceptionally in-depth tarot reading. An excavation site without judgment.
T and I researched a few options and found a spiritual guide in DuPont Circle to visit today. I passed by palm readings for tarot but as the reading unfolded, it became so complex that psychic and introductory chakra readings became necessary supplements.
Clearly, I am undergoing a lot of psychic changes :)
Before I could sit down, my advisor told me that I was a "very old soul" with at least two past lives. She proceeded to ask me my age in this life: 22.
Next, she immediately detected that I harbored "stagnant energy" -- restless feelings for the past two years. So far, so good.
Of what she shared in our twenty-five minute session, three catergories of insight emerged: knowledge about my personal life that I cannot share on a blog, knowledge about my future, and knowledge about my stagnation.
Future:
-I'll live into my late 80's, a healthy and fulfilling life.
-I'll become incredibly successful, as in "life-altering" successful.
-I'll become a published writer, self-employed, and be connected to foundations, philantrophy.
-I'll have material wealth by age 30.
-She was able to describe my life partner (I'll omit details here :)
-2008 is a positive year for me marked by the beginning of May.
Stagnation:
-Although on some level I enjoy my work, I feel restless about it because it does not employ all of my talents nor does it satisfy my breadth of interests. Law school is a good choice.
-My last year was a romantic rollercoaster.
-I'm remarkably persistent. That is, I'm able to hit a wall, brush myself off, and continue on. Problem is that I often continue into the same wall. My environment does not appreciate my talents and this is easily recognized by "thank you's" or lacking thereof. I must change my environment to become appreciated and move beyond the stagnation that I've experienced for two years.
-The source of imbalance? Point #2, my sex chakra. It is where our basic energy resides according to Vedi beliefs. Therefore, other points may be aligned, but since my foundation is unstable, I'm misaligned.
It's this revelation which resonated the most. I've been aware...searching...for a way to understand the mismatched energies and resulting choices from my past year's romantic challenges. Yet I never felt I appropriately eqiupped. A chakra reading will put me on the right path to identify my most significant source of vexation. I intend to do this soon.
I hope that this entry serves a reminder that energy-work can be deeply important and profoundly real, although, I realize that many of us have fun with Tarot, too. At the same time, we all "know" in different ways, and this is one way I uncover knowledge for myself. Spiritual guides help validate or re-direct my own initution in a similar way others use religious text or advisors to map their destiny. I've been reassured today with a geniune-feeling reading consistent with information I've learned from past readings. I'm also happy that T entered the energy-world as well.
Perhaps most significantly, I was able to share this insight with my mom tonight. I felt the conversation very moving. She's the person I credit all of my spiritual growth, since she was the only person I knew growing up who demonstrated trust in intution, universal connectedness and energy's existence. She inspired me to "seek" through the universe. I was happy to tell her as much. In the coming years, I'll try to convey to her that it is this value which is so integral to who I am and who I will eventually become.
See ya,
R.
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