I’ve been thinking a lot about matter recently. It’s a common word in our language and now in our headlines.
We quite literally, are matter. Stardust, in fact. We have something like octillion atoms in our bodies, yet if you took all of the matter in those atoms, we would each fit on the tip of a pin, and all of humanity would fit into a sugar cube. We are a lot of empty space.
Things that matter have substance and take up space. Matters are subjects of many types – subjects under consideration, of disagreement, of discussion, of writing, of thought, of knowledge. In law, matters are something to be proved. In science, matter is the fabric of ourselves and everything around us. The definition of matter includes our pee, our poop, and any bodily discharge, whether normal or pathological. It also includes the “formless substratum” that exists only potentially and which we use to create our reality.
Matter is our seen and unseen, our illusions and aspirations, ourselves, our environment, our past, our present, and our future. As a verb, to matter is to be important, or to form one of the above bodily excretions. I am not sure very many words have such a broad range of meanings, and wide usage as well.
How many toxic things have substance and are taking up space in your life? With what relationships, memories, or thoughts are you constipated? Do you have urinary retention of your mother or your ex-partner? Do you have a festering abscess of a co-worker that needs to be drained? Are you void of people who make you feel that you matter?
Sometimes the people closest to us remind us of the times we mattered least. Sometimes it’s because we haven’t excreted those old matters. Sometimes they keep reminding us, and we stay full of shit, full of beliefs about ourselves that aren’t true.
This weekend I feel like I am overdosing on those reminders. For me, functions related to the military, in which my husband participates sometimes, do that. He has one tonight. Talking with my parents does that. They are masterful at telling me how much other people matter to them and why it’s difficult to come visit me, ever. They language of me not mattering is so wired into that they don’t even know they are doing it unless I point it out, which I have mostly given up on doing. The language of not mattering is so wired into me that I have a difficult time hearing their language in any other way. The person who finally showed me that I mattered and started me on an amazing road to healing hasn’t returned an email or call in almost a year, which feels like shit.
The problem with all of this is that none of these things matter. They highlight the gaps in my relationship with myself. I made space for their shit. I can’t change them but I can change myself. This is true within your family, your community, and your country. We are seeing the collective constipation played out in the headlines.
What is the remedy? We clearly need some energetic prune juice. Here are the ways I have found most helpful and most loving.
Be full of yourself in the best possible way. We don’t always think of being full of yourself as a good thing, but if you are full of everyone else that’s not healthy.
The first thing that helped me with this was when a friend of mine that sees auras told me that mine was purple at the time. I asked him what that meant, and he probably said a lot of things, but the meaning I latched on to was royalty. I know that I am the Queen of Me, and I am the only one that can take off my own crown. I make sure every day, and especially when I am rattled, to make sure my royal crown is on straight and my royal cape is fully fluffed. I know I always have to dance with other people, but I don’t have to shrink. Note that I chose the word dance over fight or battle. I chose Queen over warrior. Your metaphor matters.
The second thing that helped was a DIY soul retrieval. A repetitive prayer of “Across all dimensions I call back my heart and my soul” turned me into Teflon, or whatever the all-natural version of is of a non-stick surface. Your shit can’t stick to me any longer.
Be still and lean in to the discomfort. Feel those uncomfortable feelings. Have a conversation with your emotional constipation, your spiritual pus, your bladder infection of a relationship. Write it out with pen and paper, like you are writing a letter, a play or a movie script. This Dialogue with a Symptom exercise is one of my favorites, and always yields unexpected insight.
Own your story. You create the good in your life AND you create the bad. I hate that bitter pill, but I do find swallowing it gives me a lot of power to change things. Being stuck in victim mode and blaming does not serve anyone. A lot of our creation isn’t conscious. I prefer to think of it as vibrational. I will tell you your own vibration is SUPER FANTASTIC. If you aren’t attracting what you want, it is because you are full of other people’s shit. There’s a branch of science around this called epigenetics. You inherit the good parts of your ancestors and their shit. The good news is that you can change it.
See them for their trauma. Assholes are assholes because of their trauma. They haven’t begun to unpack that suitcase yet, which is why they do what they do. Until we all start to see them that way, our potential for change is limited. These people are like children who want to get caught with the knife in their hands, addicts that act out so someone will help them, and serial killers calling the FBI to taunt them so they will get caught. They all suffer from difficulty connecting with themselves and others, regardless of their privilege in life. Does Donald Trump strike you like a wounded soul? It doesn’t excuse his actions, but it does explain them. We have many choice points as our wounds are always trying to come to the surface. His wealth and power allowed him the ability to bury himself alive from within, in a cesspool of shit.
Broaden your definition of family. Does your family strengthen your own sense of matter and of mattering? No? Do other people in your life do that? If yes, THEY are your family. I call them my soul family. If the answer is no, I promise you that some spiritual prune juice will bring amazing people into your life. I have been there and done it.
Extinguish the emotional dynamite. I do not like the word contract, because I think 3-D contracts and spiritual contracts are not the same thing, but I find thinking in terms of spiritual contracts can be helpful. Spiritual contracts can end or be ended and it’s good to get out of them before they are long-expired. That doesn’t necessarily mean you don’t see the other person ever again, but realizing you have completed your work together here on Earth, that you have fulfilled the vows you took, (no matter how bad of an idea they were) can do a lot to take the emotional charge out of the situation. We accept with friends that some come into our lives for seasons, and then we don’t see them much anymore. Maybe it’s what’s meant to happen sometimes with family members as well.
Write new vows to yourself. They can be general, such as “I vow infinite wisdom, infinite clarity, infinite health, infinite love” – or specific like “I vow to excrete other people’s shit that I have stored in my body” or “I vow to attract non-narcissistic personalities as partners, parents, and friends for the rest of this incarnation and for eternity.”
The sky is the limit. I am off to have another dialogue with my shit so I can be more of my own stardust.
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