Process, process, process.

I’m having an out-of-sorts day and I am tired of feeling this way. I know why I’m all out of sorts—big tattoo, channeled Mr. Mister, actual Mr. Mister, and six days spent with Boyfriend. It doesn’t make it any easier or better, though, and, in fact, having all the answers in front of me kind of makes it worse. I don’t have a lot to analyze and, instead, I have the fun experience of sitting with my emotions until they pass or I can somehow manifest a choice to feel differently. I keep trying to step out of the muck but I feel like it keeps sucking me back in.

It was a very good week with Boyfriend. I had an excellent time with him and we did all sorts of fun stuff, because we could. It was tiring in the introvert-who-is-not-used-to-time-with-other-people way, but very good. I don’t know what part of the Universe I pleased to have this work out thus far, but I feel like I must have done something very good.

With regards to everything else [the tattoo, the channeling, the possession], the recurring thing that this keeps coming back to was that I was unprepared.

I was unprepared for the tattoo. Prior to the hanky and pocket being emblazoned on my ass, I had three very small, very unnoticeable tattoos. I had absolutely no clue that getting a piece the size and style of mine would be very different. It was.

It was also not the tattoo I had planned on, which has been fucking with my head. As I mentioned before, I had planned on a simple outline while Mr. Mister planned on a realistic representation. For multiple reasons, I wish I had known that before walking into the appointment. I could have said no. I was under no order to get it done, but I knew He wanted it and I wanted to give it to Him. It took a lot of on-the-spot acceptance when I saw it for the first time to be okay with the fact that my body was now permanently changed in a way that I had not planned on.

I was unprepared for the channeling that took place during the tattoo experience. Boyfriend made a comment yesterday that I knew that it was coming and, after chewing on that for awhile, I agree and disagree. I knew there was likely going to be some Mr. Mister involvement. I thought He might take Boyfriend’s eyes and just watch or maybe pass on a few thoughts—nothing much. Instead, I had a serious chunk of time where I was asking questions and getting answers back from Mr. Mister without any teeth-pulling, magic dances, or animal sacrifices. Had I known I was going to get so much, I would have been prepared to take notes while being stabbed. I am not joking.

I was definitely unprepared for the possession. I had come to terms with the ‘fact’ that I was not going to see Him embodied until I was better prepared for it in multiple ways, that He didn’t want to be embodied for me until I could properly receive Him. I was not considering that He might show up, nor was I emotionally prepared to have His hand on my ass doing whatever He was doing to His tattoo.

I’m beginning to believe He likes seeing what I can pull together on the fly. This is not the first time situations have come up out of the blue, so you would think I’d be ready for this stuff by now. He picks the perfect times—when my shields are down or when I’m otherwise compromised—and then zooms in for the proverbial kill. He squeezes my heart in His hand until I am wrung out and then fills me back up to do it all over again next time.

The lessons are recognized and I hope they are learned—that I have to see with more than my eyes and that I must pay attention and trust my feelings over the feelings of someone else, particularly another spirit-worker who I judge as more talented/skilled/further along than I am.

And there were littler lessons, too. I got called on the carpet for having poorly done boots. I have a history with boots and am an accomplished bootblack, so there really is no reason for me to have messed up boots except that I have been lazy and stopped caring. Daddy does not like bad boots. I knew I was eventually going to get in trouble for it, but I had hoped in a silly way that it wouldn’t happen. Since my current boots are about as irreparable as I would care to work with, I am on the hunt on ebay for a new pair that look better than what I’ve got now. Easily remedied, thank the gods.

There are harder things to deal with, too. He wants me back in the suits that are considered a uniform. I’ve gained some weight and they don’t fit right now, which is a shame since I spent A Lot of money on them. Thusly, I must lose weight as I cannot afford another round of new suits and that would be beside the point anyways. This is a dangerous road for me to walk down and it makes me nervous. I have a history of disordered eating and feeling like I have to lose weight is the number one way to trigger that. I’m not interested in telling Him no or dragging my feet any longer, so off to weight loss land I go. I’m also not interested in hearing suggestions about how to lose weight or what the best method might be—I’ve probably done most of them and I’m working on a few things on my end to make it happen.

So, that’s the inside of the brain tonight. I’ll probably have a more interesting post up sometime early next week.


~ by Alex on July 27, 2012.

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