My house is full of vortexes

My house is full of vortexes

Actually it’s not really, but I swear to god spiritual people I meet are convinced that their place of work or home is chalked FULL of them.  Ugh!  I do have a friend who’s house is legit full of vortexes but that is a rarity! Go into any metaphysical shop and the kooky owner’s talking about the insane vortex in their basement/attic/front entrance.  Whatevs, dude…just sell me some fucking crystals so I can get out of here before you upsell me on that tarot deck.  Dammit!  Throw that in too.  The vortex at the till made me do it. ;-P

Vortexes or vortices are areas of our spectacular earth that are known to either suck energy in or blow energy out.  Usually found at the intersection of ley lines. There is always some sort of opposition force in play.  I’ve heard of mirrors attracting energy also.  Sometimes when I’m walking around the neighbourhood, I’m drawn to a spot that is full of nature that simply holds me.  I always ask myself if the fairies are playing tricks on me and pulling me into some sort of portal.  Who knows what it is, but such places do exist likely at the intersections of ley lines if you happen to stumble upon them.

If you live in an area known for its energy (Grand Canyon, the Rocky Mountains of Alberta and BC, Sedona, etc.) there are places where vortices have been felt by hundreds and possibly thousands of people.  If that energy is fake, why would so many people be mesmerized by the area?  Could it be that it’s beautiful?  Natural vistas that take your breath away aren’t all vortices.  And not everything is positive either, there is also a negative attraction.

Let me introduce you to the vortexes in my home because I’m spiritual and obviously I’m surrounded by them.  Prepare to be enthralled and amazed!

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I feel at one with the Universe when I poop.  TMI?

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Dear God, what died in there?

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Everyone is getting stoned except me

Everyone is getting stoned except me
Mackey
Disclaimer

As a deeply spiritual person, I feel like I have no street cred unless I partake in some substance in some way.  Some mediums regularly get drunk AF because of the heavy crap we gotta deal with: consoling the living after someone passes on and counselling clients about all sorts of life issues.  While others stay away from substances altogether.

Weed is a good option to just relax and allow the messages to flow.  I don’t have a lot of experience with this as I was a super good kid growing up.  My parents think I was the devil’s spawn because I talked back and came home long after my curfew, but no one is asking them.  As a goody goody growing up in the deep south of Calgary, I never did anything bad. I never drank alcohol till I was 18 (legal age in Alberta), and I definitely didn’t smoke cigarettes, or do party drugs. I didn’t even go to parties. My parents had it easy as far as I’m concerned!

I’m now making up for missed opportunities.

A girlfriend of mine came over some time ago with her baggie of green promises. I couldn’t wait to get fucked up.  As I eagerly awaited her arrival, I heard her voice as she was chatting up my neighbours.  She was laughing and confessing what a racist she was.  Oh god, do I need to intervene?  When I opened the door, I was met with bloodshot eyes and a slack jaw mouth signalling the bitch was already high as a kite!  I got genuinely pissed she started without me. Anyway, I couldn’t be mad at her for very long because she had the goods and is cute as a button.  I was super excited to try her stuff.  It smelled herbal, aromatic, and non-skunky. We pulverized the buds and rolled them up into cigarette papers.  Soon after, we went for a walk down the block cuz I ain’t doing that shit in my house.

First try: nothing. I was unaffected.  Hmmm, maybe it just takes a while. Went back home to roll another.

2nd attempt: more nothing…friend is a bit surprised it’s not working for me

3rd and 4th go around: I’m still not feeling tingly, buzzed, stoned or anything

My husband comes home after running some errands and my friend is making fun of me for being stone cold sober. What is the meaning of this?  I’ve smoked 2 buds practically. That would last her a week if she was smoking every day. I’ve smoked pot using a bong before and it took me a while then too.  But this is ridiculous. My friend is promising to get me high even if she ends up being late for her date in an hour or so.

Husband (non-chalantly): Oh, it was like this last time too.

Friend: WHAT?!  Last time?

5th attempt: We desperately phone the dealer and ask for advice. This is super embarrassing and awkward. There were a lot of expletives exchanged over the phone about what a couple of dumbasses we were but what we got from this shit-talking was: 50/50 oxygen and cannabis. I wasn’t inhaling and mixing.  I was holding it in, but no extra inhale.

OOOOHHHHHHH!  Rookie mistake.

6th one’s a charm!  I successfully ended up a baked brownie.  My girlfriend is relieved!  She proceeds to eat all my chips and leave crumbs everywhere. She also borrows some clothes for a date and leaves her hobo chiq fashions at my place.

The high itself was great.  I mellowed out and relaxed.  There was no looking for messages this time around, I just wanted to float in bliss.  Next time though, I’ll be giving readings to my friends with a sense of humour.  I’m sure there is going to be some epic stuff revealed.  Who wants to join that party?  Haha!

(BTW, I’m brown so it’s not racist when I say “baked brownie”.  If you’re not brown and you use this term, you are a racist. Political correctness all the way!  Except for me. I have double standards like that.)

Disclaimer: while I am joking about this one experience with the ganja, I do not use illegal substances 99% of the time.  I don’t even have any tattoos.  I go to bed at 10pm and wake up at 5:30am to go to work.  I barely take any sick days.  I donate money to charity and pay my credit cards and taxes on time.  And I’m not about to lose my job over a failed drug test either. I’m still a proud goody goody…

 

 

 

An empath in a concrete box

An empath in a concrete box

Being a spiritual person in a corporate world can be taxing emotionally and mentally.  Spiritually, I know the concrete jungle serves no purpose other than giving me the money I need to pay my bills and having the job that looks great on paper.  Navigating through the minefields of office politics is a daily struggle.  I have a job that my parents can be proud of telling their friends about rather than just, oh, our daughter is a medium.  They do that as well, but the medium bit takes less of the spotlight when my resume is relayed onward.

What does one do when they observe and feel everything around them?  I see the energy no one else thinks to look for.  My world is full of beautiful colours and vivid hues encircling the heads of the people I’m fortunate to work with in this chapter of my life.  Their auras ebb and flow like liquid veils, enchanting tendrils of qi dancing and reaching outward like flames.  What glorious images delight my eye, especially that third one!

The trick is gratitude.  Never taking for granted that which has been bestowed by the infinite divine.  The beauty of life is taking the time to observe the fleeting moments of clarity.  When I take the time to ponder the light-hearted quips by coworkers or the sense of accomplishment of me finishing a stressful task, I realize my contribution may not be so meaningless after all.

Anyone in the corporate world talks about the soul-sucking nature of it.  They talk about terrible bosses and vindictive peers ambitiously toppling each other ascending the corporate ladder.  I’ve gone in and out of many companies in oil and gas in the last decade and finally found a place where I have made a lot of friends.  This is the exception, not the norm.  My bosses are awesome and inspiring.  My coworkers joke and laugh all day.  The work is stimulating and challenging.  So what if someone snipes at me one day because they might be having a bad day?  It’s ok to feel the pain of the careless missile that strikes my ego, but it’s also ok to not take things so personally.  That’s really hard for me to do–not take things personally.

As I try to live my life to the fullest, there will always be those inevitable criticisms of being naive.  Without pain, one doesn’t know love.  Without loss, one doesn’t know to appreciate what they have.  Without risk, one may not experience reward.  Playing safe works for kids.  But for those who of us who savour the nectar of life, the thrill comes from living.

So what does an empath do when they work in a concrete box?  They build a window and a door.

To the chagrin of my spiritual peers, this post had nothing to do with shielding or grounding, or wearing crystals to ward off negative energies, etc.  I’m a realist and I don’t need the extra crap my metaphysical brethren peddle–though I’d be lying if I say I didn’t buy that shit en masse like a horizontally-challenged kid in a candy store. I’ll confess, my drawers and dresser are piled with gemstones and crystals.  I walk into a crystal shop and I’m an addict looking for a hit.  Amethyst pendant?  Rose quartz ring?  Rainbow tourmaline sphere?  Obsidian and onyx bracelets to help protect me from evil?  Take my money already, dammit!  I live 2 blocks away from Earth Gems in Calgary and I have to walk across the street to avoid it so I don’t go in.  Don’t talk to me about crystals.  I have a problem, ok?

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Anywho, where was I?  Moral of the story: empaths need to sort out their life and calm their shit.

I bet you weren’t expecting that… 😉