Living and Working with Spirits

In an archival post from the old, defunct LiveJournal, dated 24 October 2003, I quoted an email regarding his ability to lie. My ideas have changed since then, but I am gonna go ahead and give you the old perspective first. The email text in italics, then the body of the post:

He doesn’t seem able to lie directly, but he isn’t inclined to tell me more than he has to, either.

This is typical from what I’ve seen. Now grok this: If you ask, “Is your name John Smith?” he can say yes and it’s somehow not the same as him flat out saying, “My name is John Smith.” I’ve been thinking about the fact that they [spirits] supposedly can’t lie but they can let you believe what you need to believe until the time comes where you need to be told otherwise. They can also hint at things in that infuriatingly cryptic way that leads you to believe something not true, until it needs to change. They can also tell half-truths and leave out the one clarifying thing that allows you to understand the truth itself… causing you to believe something untrue. Because technically, from their perspective, it is true, and they didn’t lie. They just didn’t fully explain.

I actually think that in terms of physical things, they could for example say, “Reverend Jesse Jackson is president” and it be true… on some other plane? Because my guides on the board used to tell me to go meet Meridjet (all walked in and riding in a body, though not fully in control yet) at some location and of course he was never there. I researched the town he said he used to live in and the name he said he had and he was not in the phone directory, nor was there a new number listed locally. Now either I was lied to (there had to be a lie in there somewhere, this was a very elaborate series of events and it all couldn’t have been sleight-of-hand – could it?) or, on some level I couldn’t touch, it was true. If it was a lie, then that’s the only time, ever, that they lied to me. Everything else they ever said was valid.

This is enough to make one’s brain explode. lol. It’s like that Star Trek episode where they make the computer explode by saying, “Everything I say is a lie.”

In recent months, I’ve tentatively decided that I’ve been fooling myself all these years and that they’re perfectly capable of lying. Why would they be subject to less free will than we are? Clearly, it’s reassuring to believe that they are incapable of malicious intent (because let’s face it, underneath it all that’s what I or we want to think). But it’s naive. I will go as far as to say that Meridjet has never deceived me in any way that wasn’t necessary for my growth because it always comes out to have a very specific point or purpose. Does he deceive me? Yeah. Does he mean me harm? I don’t believe so. In the 14 years I’ve known him, he’s never exhibited any sort of mean streak or joy in my pain. He does use pain for spiritual purposes, but it suits me because I have a need to feel that I’ve worked for my growth.

He is very similar to a tough martial arts teacher, in that he does not waver when I find the lesson difficult. He doesn’t give an inch, even when I feel not only that it would be harmless to do so but also feel that he really should give in a little. His support is not always when or how I’d have it if I had my druthers. But there are other times when I least expect it that he shows a profound sensitivity and willingness to go several extra miles to provide evidence (something that matters to me) and/or to provide touching, romantic moments that I don’t expect. (If I’m expecting something, like on Valentine’s Day, he’s more likely to disappear for the day, or, if he stays around, to resent the expectation that he needs to exhibit some canned emotional display based on the calendar. He can be so infuriatingly male that way. )

He’s a very difficult, but extremely rewarding, teacher. Can he lie? I believe he can. I want very much to stop limiting my reality or his with rules created out of fear. This is one lie that needs to go away, and it’s a lie I’ve told myself. But my heart knows that he does not lie for the wrong reasons, and that’s the important part. He doesn’t lie for his own personal gain; he doesn’t lie to get out of trouble; he doesn’t lie out of spite, etc. He lies because there are things I need to discover in ways other than asking him to provide easy answers. In other words, I need to do my own work. He’s there for me, and he’ll walk with me, but I must do my own work. He facilitates that work, and stimulates things within and without to intensify it at times so I’ll learn better or faster, and that can be incredibly painful. But I’ve seen his own pain at knowing mine, and I doubt I’ll ever believe that he does anything to hurt me out of spite.

There have been a lot of people over the years who have witnessed his more severe moments and reacted with stunned surprise, because he is good, supportive, and kind to everyone, but very strict with me (despite being good, supportive, and kind as well – just not when it seems I’m in crisis). Some people have felt he is abusive, but only people who don’t know him. His friends know his heart, and once you know his heart it’s very difficult to doubt his intentions.

I’m rambling, and exhausted. I’ll continue this another day with more coherence, if it seems warranted upon re-read. Good night!

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I think I have to start carrying around a little notebook so that when I see/hear/think of something funny or significant, I can write it down to blog later. There have been at least three occasions in the past week when I’ve said, “I have to blog about this!” only to forget, and now I can’t remember any of them, of course. But I do remember something else.

Since being saddled with the sad state of No Cable Movie Channels and being forced to watch regular commercial television, I’ve noticed something. Back a couple of years ago, Beggin’ Strips dog treats came out with a commercial that featured a “dog nose cam” that had the camera as the dog’s eye view, with its nose visible in front as the “dog” ran around the house seeking the bacon it smelled. The commercial proclaimed, “Dogs don’t know it’s not bacon!” cuz, you know, dogs have a lousy sense of smell and all that. Uh-huh. In any case, in recent weeks I’ve seen another product using the dog nose cam. I’m usually watching TV with no sound and the captioning turned on, while lying in bed, so when the commercial comes on I always think it’s the Beggin’ Strips commercial. But it turns out it’s a commercial for Odor Eaters shoe inserts. Okay then.

I have a rather random sense of humor, especially when I’m tired. I saw this commercial one night and a few of the nine million car insurance commercials that play so often at night, and I told my daughter: “Picture this. There’s the dog nose cam running around in search of whatever that smell is, and he runs up to the Geico gecko, who explains to him about his little tour of the aquariums and zoos and whatnot for whatever reason. The dog replies with, “Bacon?”

Yeah. It would be the first commercial crossover episode. Bound to make millions. lol.

Another oddity: Tonight I opened the freezer to get some ice from my old fashioned ice tray (no automatic icemaker being hooked up), and discovered a thin, inverted icicle. As in, my ice cube tray had an erection. There is absolutely no physical reason I can think of why a 2-inch long, 3-mm thick and tapering to a point, icicle would be standing up from an ice cube in my ice tray. I just figure that Meridjet is waving hello in his typically risque way. Don’t believe me? You don’t know him yet. One of my favorite stories, which I have yet to tell on this blog, is this. There was a time, early on in our relationship but not so early that it would make sense, that I became sort of obsessed with the thought of Meridjet’s goodies, to a degree that was decidedly out of character for me. I’m not really the goodies-focused type, but it got to the point where I started to worry. So I asked him, bluntly, “Do you think I’m getting dick fixated?” He thought about this for a long moment with a grave expression. Then he replied, very seriously, “I hope so.”

And that is Meridjet in a nutshell. Pun definitely intended. (That story cracks me up every time I remember it. I think it was the first time he made me laugh out loud without me having a chance to consider who was around, first. )

All content is ©spiritcompanion.com~2005 and beyond. Some Rights Reserved.

There’s so much to say and so many things going on lately that my mind is actually blank. I don’t know where to start or what to include, and let me tell you: it’s a rare day that I’m at a loss for words to put in my blog. This mood, whatever it is, is unusual enough that I can’t readily identify it.

There’s been a strange dichotomy in the events in my life lately, more diametrically opposed than the average day’s routine would typically include. For instance, there have been an inordinate number of large creepy-crawlies in my house and in my bedroom, which I find highly upsetting. There’s been an opposite in the form of (for example) extra encounters with soft, fluffy animals and, more meaningfully, a noticeable change of attitude in my daughter with regard to helping out and exhibiting thoughtfulness. On the negative side, again, there has been an adverse reaction to medication that has removed any semblance of good temper that I normally have. The usual patient Sheta has been replaced by PodSheta of the Snarling Responses and Hair-Trigger Rage. Opposite of that stressful issue, our income has increased enough that I’ve almost caught up with my bills (not counting a really large debt with my previous electric company that will take a while to pay down). And so it goes.

In blogland, the idea of writing paid posts reminds me of the concept of charging for spiritual counseling or tarot readings or magick work: It leaves a bad taste in one’s mouth, but one can’t always figure out exactly why it does. Attempting to make money in any venture that is supposed to be done for pleasure seems to leave people – both participants and observers – with the idea that one has “sold out” or has compromised one’s integrity. I vacillate on it, myself, but mostly feel that any distaste on my own part stems from a deeper fear of judgment rather than the feeling that I am somehow wrong to desire prosperity in a job I happen to enjoy.

I’ve so far never managed to make any money participating in spiritual or magical occupations, except for the occasional donation. Wait, that’s not true. In Seattle, I had a clientele for tarot readings. I grew to dislike the job, because the regular customers were always desperate people seeking any sort of reassurance or validation for their dreams. I dislike constantly repeating myself for someone who apparently believes that repeated inquiries will eventually deliver the answers they seek. I also dislike being in the frequent company of desperate and needy people who are clinging to me for those answers, when I am unable to provide them honestly and refuse to string them along. I’ll gently deliver the truth, and that’s all. (This sounds a lot like me – desperate, needy, and clinging in fear – regarding close friends I’ve had in the last 15 years. This is an issue currently being addressed in psychotherapy. Evidently I have an abandonment schema. Who knew?)

I successfully sold very nifty and unique dreamcatchers in Seattle, as well, but even when coupled with reading cards, it wasn’t enough to survive on. Here, I had one magical client I tried to help who reeked from day one of desperate. I tried very hard to help him, but like so many he declined to accept any personal responsibility. A friend of mine talked me into signing up for those online psychic counselor sites – Keen, Kisamba, et al. I found the entire enterprise extremely distasteful and didn’t stay with it long. You can still find my profiles in Google, much to my dismay. I’ve also had a friend or two donate funds for my assistance with various spiritual issues, but a donation is not the same as bluntly charging someone a fee and carries neither the stigma nor the guilt of any spiritual fee-based service.

Rending the Veil is the closest I’ve come to a legitimate occult-oriented business plan. I even have a business license for it, but so far my webmaster and I have not implemented any fee-based areas of the site, and the donation box atrophied until I removed it. It may work out over time, and it may stay 100% free forever.

So my newest little venture is the pay-for-posting thingamajig, and after doing one whole paid post I am already suffering the unease I involuntarily attach to ventures to turn a profit that end up feeling more like exploitation. I’m not sure why. Perhaps it’s the fact that I’ve lost a handful of subscribers recently, but that could be attributed to the simple lack of new content. Perhaps it’s from my struggle with SocialSpark.com, a site I found to be horrendously put together and impossible to sensibly navigate (even for a seasoned internet junkie). I had a post all ready for them, and was unable to find the required code to include, despite searching the site for a good two hours. In the course of trying to track down the location via the non-functional php FAQ and reading the forums, I learned a great deal about the bugs in the system and decided to scrap the post. There’s no way I could truthfully encourage anyone to join the site when I can’t navigate it. (It eventually turned out that the “posting opportunity” had been suspended but was still sending out invitations, and that was why the code was missing. The opp itself was still in the listings, which made it all that much more confusing. It wasn’t until two days later that I learned the reason for the screwup.)

I’ve made one paid post, and I may make more in the future, but they’re going to be unusual rather than frequent because 1) too many eager bloggers, too few advertisers; 2) I don’t qualify for a lot of them cuz my Google Rank is nil (yeah, up yours, Google); 3) I won’t endorse anything I don’t know or don’t like; and 4) that whole eww feeling.

I started this post last night and, ha ha, ended up with food poisoning that kept me up sick all night and most of the pre-noon hours. I’m just here to finish this and then it’s back to bed with me; I need the rest. My initial goal here was to simply touch base and let you all know that I haven’t abandoned this blog. I’m having to make some scheduling adjustments, but I’ll be back asap (hopefully later tonight) with content that’s much more interesting. Until then, ciao.

All content is ©spiritcompanion.com~2005 and beyond. Some Rights Reserved.

On impulse, my daughter and I bought tickets to Iron Man, a movie I intended to see but not right that minute. It was friggin’ amazing. Phenomenal. I loved it. Okay, so I’m an easy sell when it comes to comic book superhero movies and many flawed blockbusters. I’ll even admit to having a soft spot in my heart for cheesy B-movies. Cases in point: I loved Lake Placid (cheesy), TMNT (blockbuster), Transformers (blockbuster), The Girl Next Door (somewhat cheesy), Blades of Glory (guilty pleasure cheesy to the max blockbuster) (and I usually despise Will Farrell, so don’t give up on me just yet), and one of my favorite movies is Sahara (I’m not real sure what it is). But Iron Man brought Sheta-sock-rocking to a whole new level, a level I hadn’t even guessed was possible.

It was the geekiest of all geek movies. The protagonist, Tony Stark, a weapons manufacturer who survives imprisonment in a Middle Eastern war camp and gains a new respect for the killing potential of his weapons, becomes Iron Man to stop the weapons he created from doing any more harm. He has the sexiest lab you have ever seen. I’m not kidding. The interactive hologram technology is so cool I thought I was gonna moan aloud. The robots responding to everything he said, no matter how arbitrary, were delightful. And the suit? Oh. My. God.

It walks, it flies, it shoots, it blows things up with sonic something or other, it has a talking computer and he can transfer anything from his home network to the suit, instantly. It has nifty supercar dashboard type graphics that make the Terminator look like 1940 in comparison. He can almost orbit in the damn thing. He can travel around the world fast enough to rival Superman, and I’m willing to bet he could kick Superman’s ass. The suit is teh sex. I am serious.

Robert Downey, Jr. is a contemporary of mine, in terms of age (I wish I knew him! ha!). I really loved him in the early days of his career and rooted for him all through his battle with addiction. When he finally had to serve prison time and faded from view, I was sad. I am very, very glad to see him making such a hugely strong return in this movie. And just like in the 80s, he is also teh sex. YuuummmMY.

I was trying to think on the way home, and I honestly can’t come up with a superhero movie that holds a candle to this. Prior to this, the X-Men were my favorite. Iron Man blows them all away. I’m passionately in favor of this movie making a trillion dollars and saving the world. I may lack the ability to spot issues or plot holes when I’m in the throes of technological ecstasy, but I hope I’m never disillusioned with Iron Man, because, um, wow. Just wow. Go see it. Right now.

All content is ©spiritcompanion.com~2005 and beyond. Some Rights Reserved.

The Beltane issue of Rending the Veil is now live. You can view it here. We have content from Taylor Ellwood and Lupa, Donald Tyson, Gerald del Campo, and several new writers. We have feature articles, fiction, art that will blow your mind, columns and book reviews! Don’t miss it!

Sorry I haven’t been around. I’ll be back with more content later today, including some Meridjet stuff! Woohoo!

All content is ©spiritcompanion.com~2005 and beyond. Some Rights Reserved.