mandyjw

My sister is four years and one week older than me. I was Daddy's favorite, and I really valued this position and did everything I could to keep it. I also truly resonated with my Dad, we shared a crazy creativity and passion for truth (Jesus, so we thought). I watched my sister go through so many challenges, and just observed my parent's reaction and so I designed my life to avoid all her mistakes. From a young age she was insecure about her looks. In my class I only had boys and then later a good female friend who's mom was the ultimate feminist. I was protected from caring or thinking about looks. She had a class with mean girls. We were taught that sex was supposed to be for life and while marriage was just a piece of paper, sex was a bond that could not be broken. I still hold this belief, somewhat. My sister was brave in a way. She was very open about her boy drama, and if I had feelings I hid them deep away. I felt like attraction was dirty, my body was dirty and I was a spirit in exclusion of those things. Once she graduated high school, she got a job working at a park like place and she got involved with a firefighter there. She thought that he would love her forever, and they would get married and have babies. She slept with him. He cheated on her quite quickly. I remember that he was a firefighter and he had a pet snake named Trinity that ate mice. Of course spiritual symbolism could not be absent from this memory/non memory. I went with her to feed Trinity once when he was gone fighting wildfires somewhere. After this was a long succession of boyfriends, and she broke most of their hearts. She also got in a lot of car accidents, and somehow I was always along to come save her from them. She went to really good college and only stayed for two weeks. She bought a brand new truck and shortly after rolled it over on icy roads. I remember that it was nearly spring and she had bought some jelly beans and I was eating them. She got mad at me and ripped them away and left to go to work. I was home alone. A few minutes later she called and said she was in an accident. I didn't know what to do, I couldn't get our parents. I called Grammie and said the f word for the first time in front of her. Eventually I went to where she crashed. The jellybeans were lying there all in the snow. I picked up a piece of a broken red reflector and took it home with me and kept in in my memory box. I don't know why. There were three other mysterious car accidents. One, there was a bunny she avoided, in which she cut off a tree and was fine. There was the partridge that flew into her open window and hit her in the head and she went off the road. When we went to rescue her, there was indeed a dead partridge in the car. And there was the mysterious driver who pushed her off the road at her high school graduation. She was smart, smarter than me and so she had to give a speech at graduation. She charmingly worked in the fact her car was in the ditch at the present moment into the speech. I both looked up to her and looked down on her. Once my mom lost it over something and started throwing things around the house and my dad decided to teach her a lesson. It was shortly after Easter. The table was messy and my sister and I had Easter baskets on it. Everything got smashed and destroyed. My parents who I trusted so much to play their roles of taking care of me, weren't there but my sister was. My family talked things through over time. Easter baskets became a joke. We had a male phys-ed teacher. For some reason when I was little I used to be able to do more push ups than anyone in the entire school. My Mom got a job at the school and was part of some phys ed classes. My Dad threw a fit and called the gym teacher a creep for watching her do push ups or something. This made a huge impression on me. I was somewhat suspicious, scared and uncomfortable around the gym teacher and stopped trying around him. I continued the exact same pattern with the gym teacher at high school and every other male teacher I had. I mistrusted males and avoided them. There was a this fear and also strong tension there that I just didn't want to feel. Avoidance seemed the only route.

@Marc Schinkel Very fitting! Every single love song, every single love story is an analogy, pointing to God/Self/Source, not to love of another person/thing. It's the biggest misunderstanding, so obvious when it's seen through. Ever singer is using their muse to sing about their muse but the words and the listener can only see their experience of romantic love. It's actually a song of praise of itself! But love of another is how it's translated to us. Survival includes the attraction necessary for reproduction and THEREFORE sexual attraction is the bridge between survival and God/Union. It's so perfect and so embarrassing and so FUCKING INCONVENIENT and crazy making. Would you take the limitless and select an object for it? Yet that's creation, the nature of focus itself. Every focused love of a selected thing is pointing to and expressing the love of God. Oooo... beauty itself is deceit and deception. I WOULD have associated the law of attraction and desire with the Devil. Of course! How could I not? I sold my soul to be born here and create with illusion the day I was born. I've been kidding myself ever since then. "I'm Snow White, I'm good." How does it express itself? How does it show itself? There is no reality without fiction! Not knowing this was painful. Knowing it...? MEANS I MUST NOT KNOW. I CANNOT know.

I don't believe in love. How could one believe in love and not kill it? I don't believe in beauty. How could one speak of beauty and not kill it? Yet I must, my purpose and passion on earth is to believe and love and speak of beauty!!! Through your love existence and nonexistence merge. All opposites unite. All that is profane becomes sacred again. -Rumi

Snow White stands for purity, perfection and pure beauty. The entire plot revolves around her beauty. The queen looks into the mirror at herself and is told (by herself), something she doesn't want to hear. She isn't the most beautiful. To the Queen this means that the one who IS must be destroyed. The Queen sits in a chair designed like a peacock. Snow looks into the wishing well, her voice and desire echoed back to her. The Prince sings "One song, I have but one song, my heart keeps singing, one heart, one love that has possessed me..." "Run child, into the woods, never come back, now go!" In Snow's perception she turns the woods into a terrifying haunted place, but then she colors her world beautiful again. The seven dwarves represent parts of the self. She loves and cares for them. They work hard and love her back. "Don't talk to strangers. Don't let anyone in." By anyone they mean the part of the self she doesn't want to face. The Queen turns herself into a hideous hag witch, who is in herself a separate character both an aspect of Snow and the Queen. The symbolism of the Queen or hags death is incredibly spiritually symbolic, as soon as Snow is "dead" it starts to thunder and pour. The lightning and rain and power from heaven awakens the masculine energies of the universe (self). The hag corners herself on a high ledge and the lightning kills her. The vultures watch happily. The Prince, (masculine aspect of Snow's self) is called, awakens her and off they go into the bright yellow light to their castle in the clouds, happily ever after. This lessons gleaned from this story are disastrous if you don't understand that every single character is you. And yet, that understanding is the journey and story itself. Every girl wants to see herself as beautiful, innocent and adored, but eventually will desire the power she is denying herself in her role, turning her into the Queen. Wanting to integrate her charm, innocence and beauty with power, she transforms into the hag to kill the maiden. Both power and beauty are killed.

Plan some mild "fun" in your life, but make an intention to enjoy it and be grateful for it. Listen to a favorite song you haven't heard in years. Close your eyes and feel it. Buy a favorite food, close your eyes and reeeally taste it. Now look for something to appreciate in every single moment. Gratitude and inspiration are not things that occur outside of us. We must want them and train ourselves to receive and see them when they come our way. So you see? You do want something after all.

"Happily Ever After" *Bites apple* Oh! I feel strange! I watched this clip yesterday. I've been watching old Disney movies from my childhood with the kids, we started Snow White but are only half way through it.

I had to do a big grocery trip with both kids. Before I left I put on my rings and grabbed a necklace nearby. It's one of my seascapes with a crescent moon on one side and a full moon on the other. I made it a long time ago, and when I went to sell it I noticed that there was a random pattern in it of figure walking on the beach on the side with the full moon. An angel, I said. Then I had this memory of wearing it to a show and a lady asking about it and me explaining why I kept it and the figure. And she said "It's you." I don't honestly know if she ever really said that or not. But... it's me. I've been in a state of "high", the vortex as Abraham Hicks calls it. I saw a bald eagle and then later on a pair flying together. I was thinking of my dream board and painting the hall yellow and I remembered the sign that we had been given as a wedding gift, that says "Happily Ever After". I didn't like that sign. I felt like it was bad luck or something. I never hung it up. A year ago the carpenter I hired was incredibly nice to me and helped me move the stuff in the garage overhead for a project. He took a load of trash to the dump for me too. We came across the sign and he asked if I wanted it. I told him I was superstitious about stuff like that. But I kept it. It's just a wood board after all and I have plenty of other random wood boards, why get rid of it? The idea of having that sign over my dream board in the hallway and finally not feeling afraid of that statement felt pretty amazing. The moon was beautiful and I never knew I could be so happy entering Walmart hand in hand with each kid. Yesterday this song played and I felt it had a message for me but it kind of terrorized me a bit. I felt like I was waiting for something but couldn't get there. It was playing in the car but I didn't think about it much until we left to go in the store and my daughter started singing it. I sang it along with her in the parking lot. I bought a giant white board for my dream board and somehow had the energy to go to the paint store and get the yellow paint for my hall. My daughter started getting tantrumy and this lady took her to pick out paint chips. She said that she had four kids and was SO helpful. I was annoyed about how much the paint costs and when I checked out the computer wouldn't work so the cashier couldn't make me an account and I had to put it under my old contractor's account and the system gave me his discount. I went up in the garage attic to find the sign. At first I couldn't find it. "Did I get rid of it?" It was there, in some insulation. The lettering was sticker not paint, and the decorative star on the end had melted off from being stored improperly. "What could I paint there", I thought? An apple?" I noticed that part of the H was peeling a bit. "What would it say if I peeled off the H?" I wondered. Appily Ever After???

And it'll grow and grow and grow until it encompasses the entire universe and beyond.

The UPS truck came after I moved the trash can and I was like "YES, you clear out stuff and you get more stuff! I wonder what synchronicity this is gonna be." But all that was there was the new puppy gate and for me, my "Bigger Better Nut Milk Bag", I ordered so I can make my own almond milk. Thanks for the joke universe, I know I'm nuts. Wouldn't have it any other way.

@Shin Bob Ross was fuckin WOKE. There are so many great pointers in his lessons as he teaches you to paint your own little world. I'm thinking maybe he had a little bit of shadow work to do though.

There are no innocent questions my love. Guilty as charged. I was an angel, once, before the Devil stole my heart. And when I looked at the place where it should be, there it was still in my chest beating 100 miles an hour and I realized, I WAS the Devil.

The duality between channeling and not get thin and dissolve, that's what I want to have happen. But yes? All is good, feeling a bit sick and lethargic (that part came days ago) but it's better than the alternative. I was slightly horrified to find my empty trash can had blown in the middle of the road a little bit ago, but I guess when Mandy gets rid of things she wants the world to know it.

Well, fuck. "Writing causes you to focus" Esther said. "You rewrite your past" Esther said.

When I started experiencing bliss states out on runs by fields of flowers, the only expression that came to mind was "FUCK!" over and over. You bewilder us with your grace. All evils transform into goodness. You are the master alchemist. You light the fire of love in earth and sky in heart and soul of every being. Through your love existence and nonexistence merge. All opposites unite. All that is profane becomes sacred again. -Rumi

I love being part of a forum where people occasionally find my completely unfiltered expressions beautiful. That's the real medicine of actualized.org I suppose. You're so alone, you're never alone.

Ooooooohhhhh fuck. I created him, didn't I? That typing mistake was an Easter egg I created for myself. YOU planted the nightshade. You wrote the fucking book meant for you to read! You charged him in New York City and shut down his practice so he would have time to write the book and the desire to clear his name and open people's minds. You planted him like a berry dropped in the cracks between the stones. That's how stories are born. This morning when I went out with the puppy the crows were dancing around overhead, just joyfully riding the wind. The past two nights the moon has had a huge perfect circle around it. The moon isn't full yet, but the circle of light that surrounds it is a perfect circle. I loved that symbolism so much.

Lyrics It's a world of laughter A world of tears It's a world of hopes And a world of fears There's so much that we share That it's time we're aware It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small, small world There is just one moon And one golden sun And a smile means Friendship to ev'ryone Though the mountains divide And the oceans are wide It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small, small world It's a world of laughter A world of tears It's a world of hopes And a world of fears There's so much that we share That it's time we're aware It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small world after all It's a small, small world The guy who started messaging me constantly this fall started the conversation with asking me if I was my sister's sister and when I said yes he said "small world" and it stuck with me. Back then I thought he was completely innocent. I titled a blog post that after he said it. "Yes, Magic is real. Its existence is what ties us together in shared being. It shows itself to us by coincidence, synchronicity, and shared connection, it’s what makes this random and sometimes cruel seeming universe collapse into something small at times. Whenever we find out that we have a connection with some seemingly random person and we say “It’s a small world!”, and in that moment, magic happens. We are connected. We are all one. What is real never dies, but lives on as Love. Sometimes that love is a crow dropping a poison berry so it sprouts into a weed that grows on the grave or an herbal healer. There are no mistakes in life, it’s all by intelligent design. It only requires our belief, and our recognition and acknowledgement to be seen. There is no difference between love, creativity, flow states and magic. Magic=Love. Open your heart to see it." There's a mistake in my blog post, I used the word or instead of "of" and then said there's no mistakes in life.

I think the real reason we are here is to soothe the motion sickness from the wild ride of this trajectory we seemed to have been born into. But you're not actually moving at all, you bunch of idiots! HA! It sure feels like it though, doesn't it? We're all throwing up from sea sickness on the side of the ship while we watch the whales. You might be Captain Ahab carefully watching for your White Whale or you might just be on a cruise for fun. That part is up to you. Or maybe it's predetermined. Who the fuck knows? Pass the dramamine please.

In my hallway where my dream board is, there's a red pom pom my daughter lost that looks like a clown nose on the floor. On the dream board there's one thing written in red among dozens of others in black, it's the trip to go to the city where the connections are coming from.

I dreamed of a plane crash a week ago. This time there was this massive plane that crashed and a tiny plane chasing it crashed with it. Except like after 9/11, even though it crashed into the ground, houses started collapsing around it after. And I didn't know if I was safe to go in my house anymore, or who could tell me if it was or wasn't safe. And it wasn't my town, it had evolved into a much more populated place so there was lots of chaos.

Anthem of my teenage angst, brought up by reading a thread on the forum just now. What the fuck with the album cover, and just talking about 9/11? Synchronicity is by my side today. BLOODY NOSE! THE CLOWN NOSE! SHIT I DIDN'T think I could do this on my own. Puzzle pieces, click, click, click. Yes, Def Leppard. Someone is out there, someone cares, and you are in fact, just fooling yourself. It's a small world after all you fuckin' clown.

Living here, born to hermit parents, terrified of the world, so secluded and sheltered from it all, not letting yourself have what you want... you can imagine the fantasy and desire that grows and grows. What is color without black and white? What is springtime and birds singing when you've never stood in the middle of the deep woods in the dead of winter, closed your eyes and just listened to the perfect frozen silence? What is the fantasy of a tropical paradise in the dead of winter? I'm so well practiced at this, that I know it's far better than the real thing.

I suddenly feel sick to my stomach.

When I was a kid my Dad was friends with this guy named Tommy. Tommy was the worst of backwoods ignorant. He was also a distant-ish relative. My parents out of their Christian love and hermit like nature did not believe in having friends, wanting friends or being selective with their friends. When someone came into their lives they had to be a true friend to them, even if their values or development didn't align. Tommy's dad was called Big Tom and he was called Little Tom even though he was bigger than his dad. He was enormous, didn't shower, didn't shave, muscular, tall, tan, tattooed all over with shit like eagles and mermaids, deep booming voice, black wild hair and mean looking eyes, and he was very crude. He was the most intimidating looking person. His dad was creepy in his own way, came to our school when we were kids and called himself "Uncle Pickle". Because I was raised with Christian values, the problem of having someone in your home who doesn't share them comes up. My parents were the rare type that would put up with almost anything, and say nothing about it, except on the very rare occasion that you really crossed a line. I was very uncomfortable around Tommy. He never said anything bad to me out of respect for my dad, but I knew what he was thinking and comments he made got back to me and confirmed this as I got older. The first two dobermans we got were very friendly, mine especially. The other one hated him. Mine would sit next to his side and worship him the entire time as he told horrible stories about moose dying terrible deaths. It made me sick to have him touch her, and she was just joyfully oblivious. Moxie was her name. Once I was in the computer room, which was next door to the bathroom and Tommy took a leak without closing the door. This made my dad angry and bothered him more than me but again, he never said anything. He had his own daughters and their relationship was creepy strange and bizarre. When I was a really little Tommy was married. I remember playing with dolls behind the couch when his wife unloaded on my Mom all the awful stuff going on in their marriage. I remember popping out from behind the couch and she was so surprised and embarrassed that I had been there the whole time. They bought me a stuffed clown doll. It was over-sized and I was too young to say that I really didn't like it, so it went in my bed with all my other stuffed animals. I remember Mom saying once "Ah, there's a man in your bed!" and this made me feel dirty and awkward about this clown. When you pressed his red nose it played "It's a Small World After All". Contemplating this morning made me think of that phrase which made me think of the song which reminded me of the clown doll, which made me think of Tommy. Mom raised me to believe that men were scary and dirty, (maybe that's not Mom's fault) and we went to a circus once and the clowns were giving out balloons to others kids and naturally I wanted one. She told me that the type of person who played a clown was likely to be very dirty and that they blow up the balloons with their mouths and who knows what germs they have. There was a similar message of complete disgust taught to me about carnivals, theme parks, carnival workers. When my sister was going through puberty, I was in the depths of my own spiritual fire and what I later labeled "obsessive compulsive disorder". I had a neurotic impulse to "clear" out anything that made me uncomfortable. If she was watching TV and a dirty word I didn't know was said, I had to make myself uncomfortable and ask what it meant. If she didn't tell me, I had to ask Mom. Once after my sister was watching MTV I asked mom what a "rod" was and Mom must have been feeling up to educating me that day because she said that masturbation was wrong, and this is something I never doubted so I never did. Once my sister had a cross country race in another city. My OCD came up in an enormous manner. "GO BACK AND PICK UP THAT TRASH NOW." I didn't. I walked further and further from the trash and it tortured me. "PROMISE YOUR SOUL TO THE DEVIL" Ohhh... that was the worst one. I learned to disregard those thoughts as I became a teenager. Later, I had to go to that very spot to race several times. So many of my vivid pivotal memories are centered in this one spot. On one race, a boy died and no one noticed and we ran past his body off in the field. One of my teammates was right behind him and I knew that he had to deal with this fact the rest of his life. He was my first ever crush, but when we went to high school I got over this quickly and painlessly because he was such a jerk . He grew right across from where the broken apple tree was. His brother just died, and so he has been around home more lately, I saw him the Halloween before last. He called me Amanda. In this city lived a clockmaker, and he became a powerful mesmerist. In the historical records his name comes up as the mesmerist who traveled here, the first one that Pomroy recounts going to as a child. The summer before last I saw the first whales I've ever seen. I went to a beach and there was a woman with a dog there. I couldn't keep my kids away so I talked to her a bit. She said that there were whales around, she was watching for them. I said that I had been on a field trip to this city on a boat to see whales but didn't ever remember seeing one. She said she was from that city. 20 minutes later and the sun was fading, the sky was beautiful I watched the water with my Mom and sister and saw whales the first time. That field trip. OH FUCK! THIS IS ALL CONNECTING! In first grade a new boy moved to our class. I was the only girl, there were two other boys. Alex, he was wonderful, creative and we resonated until we got older and then naturally we hated each other. I loved his hand writing. I love people's handwriting, and I did in school, I loved looking at it, as if it spoke to me and showed me the intimate parts of someone's soul. I especially loved boy's handwriting. There was no one who pressed down as hard on the page as Alex. He was always breaking pencils. Michael was dumb as a fucking rock, but sweet. He had beautiful green eyes and black hair, like Harry Potter. But his Mom didn't take care of him and he usually smelled. Michael was in love with me throughout 8th grade. I mean, I was the only girl. We had to draw pictures for a calendar project once and he drew us as a couple in front of a barn. In the picture he's chewing a piece of grass. They chose his fucking picture for the calender and Mom bought the calendar and everyone knew it was me and laughed about it. Anyway, in first grade Derek moved him. His dad was in the military and Derek had a buzz cut and already had very strong ideas about what it meant to be a man. He saw me and my purple round glasses and I was to be his girlfriend. I wasn't sure what this meant but I went along with it. Derek had expectations about how we should act, and how much time we should spend with each other. It was never much fun. Once I got mad at him and kicked him in the balls before I knew that boys HAD balls and now this fact was explained to me because I got in WAY worse trouble than I expected for sort of carelessly kicking at someone. He also wrote me a "dirty" note which I got in trouble for and didn't understand at all. I sat with him on the bus to go to this field trip to this city to go whale watching. I remember that he played or sang this song to me. When we got on the boat I connected strongly with another girl, her name was Sophie (Sophia, wisdom) and she was to later come to our school and would become my best friend and an incredible influence in my life. I spent the whole day with her. Derek was so pissed at me. I was supposed to spend all my time with HIM. I can't remember what happened after that, if that was the end of our "relationship" but we didn't sit together on the way home and he moved away after a short time. Sophie's mother grew up in a very wealthy, well educated family and she was a teacher in our school. In her early adulthood she went to Sierra Leon in the Peace Corp. Ever since she could never return to the wealth she had grown up in so she moved here and taught her whole life. We had an advanced reading class with her for a few years and she expanded my world quite a bit. What luck I had to become best friends with a rare liberal well-educated person in this disconnected unevolved place. Sophie's mom made sure they were well traveled. When the trade centers fell, Sophie had been to the top of the buildings and I was still scrambling to learn where NYC was and what the trade centers were. I never understood why I was so emotionally affected by 9/11 and Sophie wasn't as much. I called her on the phone after it happened and her Dad answered. "America has a bloody nose." He said. He would answer the phone when i called often and talk about politics with me until Sophie complained. He was always unashamedly challenging my Christian ideals and passionate conservative politics. I was indignant when he said that America had a bloody nose. People had died. How could he look at it holistically like that? Her dad unexpectedly died shortly before my daughter was born. Something about my daughter's chocolate brown eyes and mischievous disposition reminds me him.