Hi-Jacked By an Angry Spirit...

Do you believe in Spirits? Angry, Loving, Creative, Fun, Deadly, Life-Giving, Energizing, Depressing, etc?

I think I do.

The last few days it seemed that my body & mind were hi-jacked by an Angry Spirit. I think, as of this this a.m. it was all just an accumulation of a mountain of feelings.

Havoc.

Chaos.

Depression.

Hopelessness.

Helplessness.

Stupidities.

Idiocies.

You know, a feeling that "the center will not hold." A feeling that everything is careening out of control. 

So not me. So unlike me. But these feelings were circulating and animating me. I carried a heaviness, a dullness, a raging, aching angriness that seemed to have no bounds. 

All that has lifted. This morning, while making my morning coffee I actually said to myself: "An Angry Spirit overtook me!" I am back. Maybe it's a tentative thing? Emerging from the darkness to the light? 

Who knows? Funny. In my email inbox this morning I find this from a good friend. I am not big into Astrology. But the friend who sent this to me follows Chani Nicholas religiously, and frequently shares pearls of wisdom with me. I do enjoy the imagery, the symbols, the myths, the psychological insights. You know you find the wisdom where you can. Sometimes it comes from the strangest, most unexpected places.

A Note from Chani on this Venus Retrograde "What I’ve come to understand through this latest Venus retrograde is that all aspects of myself are restorable if I take a trip to visit them and acknowledge all they’ve tried to do to keep me from harm. All parts of myself want to be known. All my monsters really want is to be heroines. However, developing a relationship with my inner Ninshubur and God of wisdom — the Self that knows what to do when these other parts have overcome me — is key to not being consumed. Attuning ourselves to our own mysterious alchemical transformations in order to understand, grapple with, and put to use our power is a must in the land of self-development. It’s that or be so enmeshed with these inner selves, these young fearful child selves, that we’re not capable of overcoming our own obstacles (usually ourselves). This dirty work of parsing out facts from fiction is how we eventually come to offer our most valuable gifts to the collective. We don’t have to suffer for our art, but we can’t leave out the parts of ourselves that have. This work is grueling. It’s repetitive. It demands rituals, in most cases. It required a pandemic for me, maybe for you too, to do the work at this level. A once in a lifetime opportunity to put our ear to the ground of our lives and tend to all that awaits us there: meat hooks and moaning ghosts in need of a grief doula, a helper, and a God of wisdom."  - Chani Nicholas