Letter America Dear Doctor Guy, My friend recently stopped taking my calls because I’m dating her ex-boyfriend, but they broke up like over two years ago. I don’t know what to do.—Helpless Hottie ... More
Spirit Rising Museletter No. 2
Negativity can only feed on negativity —Elisabeth Kubler-Ross
I need to open with a cleansing breath. I have smudged my Airbook and now I am ready to address the negativity that has permeated my aura since my last Museletter. I was directed-wandering to work-love the other day, and I saw that a new business was opening in a storefront just half a block down from my Spirit Rising headquarters and yoga supply store. As I want all beings to be fruitful, I stopped to offer my blessings and pay it forward. Maybe make a token offering. Inside, I was very startled to see my former lifespirit partner, Joshua, opening a holistic healing center. Joshua and I were married by a transgendered shaman in the woods behind Pepper’s Grill eight years ago but soon found ourselves seeking variant visions so, after some experimentation in unresolved sexplay (with and without partners found on Craigslist), we completed the seven spiritual laws of divorce (acceptance, surrender, divine guidance, responsibility, choice, forgiveness, creation). We even added a step called “a-ha!” based on our love for Samurai films and early MTV videos. I thought Joshua had moved to Boulder to fulfill his last step but there he was, opening a store called Rising Spirit! (I turned around three times counterclockwise to make sure it was really him, not an apparition from my unresolved issue safehouse.)
If you understand, things are just as they are; if you do not understand, things are just as they are.
I called on all the angels and prophets and supernatural powers to control my white hot rage. Choosing debate over denial as Julie Waters suggests, I calmly asked Joshua why he was doing this. He claimed he didn’t know what I was talking about. I pulled out my connection card and showed him the Spirit Rising logo and then pointed to his sign.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said, calling me by the name my parents appointed to me without my consent. Then he shrugged abusively.
I explained that it was a totally epic major deal, and he said he could tell by my “splotchy” skin that I was hormonally imbalanced and that I’d gone back to dairy. He asked if I was retaining fluids. I stood my ground and grunted the way I was taught at a tribal conflict resolution workshop in Seattle back in 2006.
Joshua rolled his eyes and said, “It’s not like I’m selling yoga supplies or whatever.”
I pointed to some mats rolled up near an unplugged Hawaiian waterfall fountain wrapped in plastic wrap, not muslin.
“Those aren’t for yoga.”
“Could be used for yoga, right?”
“Whatever,” he said and used a name that only he and my therapist know about.
I waited there hoping that Joshua could see the many layers of my aura and decide to abandon such a hostile act on territory I had already cleared and cleaned with the universe. I described the saints and goddesses I had called upon to grant me permission to open Spirit Rising. He rolled his eyes and said I should keep an eye on my gluten intake.
We should find perfect existence through imperfect existence.
I am too upset recounting these events to continue with this museletter. Please notice my recent name change since I am transitioning out of the old one.
Pranava Desert Rain Weissberg