If you were raped, it wasn’t your fault.
If you were hit, it wasn’t your fault.
If you were molested it wasn’t your fault.
If you were abused in any way, it wasn’t your fault.
I don’t care WHO abused you or WHY, it wasn’t your fault.
It wasn’t your fault.
When you feel you have lost everything, you still have
- unexpected kindness in strangers
- the rest of the world to travel
- languages to learn
- animals to take care of
- volunteer work to do
- the power of a good night’s rest
- the changing of seasons
- infinite things to learn
- billions of people to meet and possibly love
- billions of people who might love you back
So I wasn’t going to go into detail here about how this has been affecting me, but I’ll write about this because I haven’t been able to push it from my mind all day. Last night (as I’ve already mentioned on this blog), I had a dream that there was a war going on, and I begged a soldier I was friendly with to help my sister and me run away from the place where I was living (Note: I don’t have a sister. And the place in my dream was a house, but not the house I came from.). The soldier in my dream had the face of somebody who is, in waking life, something like a friend of mine. The dream went into a whole bunch of other war stuff. I distinctly remember waking up in the middle of the night, thinking, “… I begged him to help me run away. This is significant.” Then I just woke up in the morning and didn’t think of it much more. It was just another war dream. I have those from time to time. Whatever.
HOWeverrrr, another friend of mine – not knowing that I just dreamed this – wrote to me about related things (soldiers, war nightmares, the like) just this morning. WHILE WE WERE HAVING THIS CONVERSATION, I received an email from the guy who appeared as a soldier in my dream. The one whom my dream-self had asked for help with running away from the house. He had NO IDEA that I just dreamed this about him (or at least I imagine he had no clue), but in his email to me, he mentioned that he hoped that I am now “in a nice, loving home.”
Still trying to unf*ck my mind.
Granted, his comment wasn’t entirely unrelated to stuff we’ve talked about before. But, like, the timing of it? I hadn’t heard from him since January. And I’d written to him, like, a week ago. Yet he chooses the morning after I dream of begging him for help in escaping from some house to respond to me. And comments on the idea of me finding myself in a loving home.
Again, not to mention the fact that another friend was writing to me about war dreams and related “coincidences” in that moment — not having known I’d just had a war dream.
There’s no reason even to try computing the “chances” of all of these events synchronizing. Particularly because things like this happen pretty often.
Which brings me to my point: to be honest, the prevalence of “coincidences” in my life over the past couple of years — while cool! — is also a factor sometimes in making me question what reality is. And that might sound trippy-fun, but I can tell you, it can also freak you out. Particularly if life leaves you asking that question unusually often.
How often do you ask yourself:
It sort of makes life feel like a dream. And sometimes we don’t want to think we’re dreaming, I suppose. What’s human within us sometimes just wants something solid, predictable. I guess. That’s what feels most like “reality” to us.
At the beginning of all the “coincidences,” to be frank, sometimes I found myself trembling. They just felt so not-coincidental that I couldn’t get a grip on them, so my reaction was often just to be scared.
Second stage: trying to ignore them. For a while, I figured, “If I just ignore all this long enough, it will surely desist.” Instead I found just the opposite; the harder I tried ignoring them, the “louder” they got. The harder I tried running in the opposite direction, the harder I simply ended up tugging on the threads of destiny into which the thread of my own life was already woven – and the stronger those bonds I was trying to ignore, became. (For that’s what happens when you pull on a thread which is interwoven with another; their point of connection ends up fortified.)
Sometimes, for some reason, it still freaks me out when a “coincidence” happens. But I guess there’s no sense in fear. When everything starts revealing how it interweaves, I guess it’s best just to remind myself of the great, lifeblood metaphor at the center of every single one of us: all veins meet at the heart.
Ultimately, love is the place where everything connects.
Love is the reason that everything is happening.
There is no reason to be afraid, even when life does feel like a dream.
So I shall try to remember that and approach the dream with love.
Lovely. Or in the words of Rumi:
"Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere; they’re in each other all along."
The other day I got a 2 hour massage and the lady masseur spent 30 minutes massaging my ass—-like every part of my ass except my actual asshole. It was fucking amazing. I never knew you could even like have tension there. I think right now I would even…
Reblogging for pro tip!
Ladies and gentlemen, my friend who I “met” through Tumblr three years ago when we both had Shanghai summer travel plans and my blog was something else and we were still both residents of the States. She arrived in Shanghai for her move in January of this year, which was actually the first time I met her in person. Gotta love the enthusiasm in her China posts. :) On an unrelated note, this wonderful lady and her early messages to me were a huge encouragement and inspiration in terms of how naked I let myself get on Tumblr; I realized it was okay to open my heart up and get very personal. So for anyone who appreciates how honest I get about my own life experiences on this blog, we have her to thank! Anyway, I second her enthusiasm re: ass massages. Do this for your partner next time they’re lying down. They’ll love it.
The other day I got a 2 hour massage and the lady masseur spent 30 minutes massaging my ass—-like every part of my ass except my actual asshole. It was fucking amazing. I never knew you could even like have tension there. I think right now I would even prefer an ass massage than having sex. idk maybe not but its like that good why the hell don’t american masseurs do that? This is one of the reasons I love China