This week I found out that utilising horse manure is not vegan.

And yea if veganism is never using anything from an animal I guess this figures.

But it really highlights how that super staunch, excessive rule following version of veganism is actually quite divorced from a truly symbiotic relationship with nature.

Energetically it is so off.

I know I’m stating the obvious at this stage but you can see how this lifestyle, practiced to that extreme, really appeals to rigid control patterns. To people who cannot LET GO. Having those kind of rules in place create safety where internal, God-generated safety feels unavailable.

Which at the deepest level, just maintains the status quo.

Because cultures solidify or shift based on the energy you bring to something.

I don’t wanna shit on any effort made to not contribute to the mass farming industry which I know is horrific, and I really wanna start making more of an effort to source animal products more ethically.

But I think it’s worth saying that when the underlying energetics are wonky, I dunno if it does much.

It reminds me of a racial activist I tuned into back when it was all the rage to scream at white people in 2020, saying that even if you contribute towards uplifting black people from a place of shame and guilt, it was still a good thing.

Which is honestly so fucking distorted I cannot even

But yeah, same same.

#ethical #vegan #pleb #plebchain #nostr

Last night I woke up to a dark wind whipping itself around my frozen body.

Sleep paralysis is a portal.

It has visited me, relentlessly, ever since I can remember.

I’ve been actively practicing with it as a dimensional access point for the last couple of years.

For the first few months I was tasked with staying relaxed, while the fear manifested in strange and visceral ways.

Those experiences most people shake themselves awake from
I sat in.

I remember being pulled around my room at one point with my hand inside the mouth of something gross.

I could feel the wetness of its tongue.

Wild shit.

But
the frequency of fear lost its form
the more deeply I surrendered.

That’s when sleep paralysis becomes a doorway - to controlled near death experiences, soul travel and multi-dimensional healing.

Last night was unusual. I haven’t sensed something that dark in a long while.

I lay there in the storm
still as death
for what felt like a while.

At some point I asked God for help.

And then it spoke.

“You think God is within you”

“But you can’t replace me”

I respond.

I see you.
Entity.
It’s time to leave.

The storm gets stronger.

Over the last few weeks, a judgemental voice - a cruelness - that is not mine, has doubled down in a way where I can keenly sense the voice as not my own.

It’s like the recent heatwave boiled it all the way to the surface.

It’s always been there.
This defensive, hostile energy.
That rejects before it’s rejected.

The energy is male.
And as he is talking to me in that liminal space
I can feel how convinced he is
that I need him.

His darkness engulfs me
I am the calm eye of his storm.

He knows we are done.

One final attempt is made at re-entering
and it is fucking visceral:

loud, metallic clanging noises
Intense pressure on my body
I sense knives
thousands of them raining down me
it’s like laying outside in a squall of hailstones.

I say: God is with me.
God is with me.
God is with me.

Then my body wakes up.
I need to pee.

It feels incomplete.
I ask for resolution upon going back to sleep.

I have a dream about this being.
He reveals himself.
He is small and sad and I feel sad for him.

I ask him if he wants to pass over.

I distinctly remember this thoughtful look he gives, that communicates everything:

I don’t know if I will be forgiven.
Am I beyond redemption?

I place my hand on his head and I ask for his passage.

To eternally dwell in unconditional love.

I walk away quickly because I’m afraid it won’t work, but as I turn back
I see a small hole open in the ceiling above us, white light streams through
a rope drops down
and he’s gone.

As I leave the dream,
I am in the in between
talking to a small child.
Possibly me.

Somehow I know she has answers.

I ask her why I needed him at one point.

She said:
He reduces people.
But don’t worry
he came when you were too young
to have anything to do with anything.
In another life, he got very lost.

And then my body stirs to early morning light.

I turn over her words in my head.

He reduces people.

My mind wants it to be clearer.
But my heart knows what she means.

-

Over the last few months, the punisher squatting in my mind, has lost its grip on my nervous system.

I have had hundreds and hundreds of mad experiences at this point but this shit does not get old.

I don’t share many of these experiences, let alone so soon after. But I want to talk about them more.

I believe I employed this entity to protect me from the pain of rejection.

One morning about 18 months ago I heard a whisper while in a hypnagogic state:

You are liminal channel.

I still don’t fully know what to do with that information, but I realise that poetry helps me convey this phenomena.

And maybe now is the time to shine a brighter light on it.

#pleb #nostr #multidimensionalwork #spiritualawakening #sleepparalysis

Get a grip girl.

If I can fuck up and crash out as much as I have and feel as free as I do now, while actively moving towards the life of my dreams and seeing more and more evidence of it everyday day, so can you.

#pleb #nostr #GM #plebchain

Someone needs this.

I was just talking to a client about how you have to pick your discomfort.

You can choose to go into the dead-end mental spiralling that you know leads nowhere.

Or you can choose to keep dropping beneath the noise - something you might have to do a thousand times a day at first - and start learning to tolerate the sensation of being in the unknown where something new can emerge.

[Author of words in the image unknown]

#pleb #nostr #spirituality

This week I got in front of a woman 
to talk positioning 
because I continue to overcomplicate my message to absolute fuck.

I know it is preventing the people who really need my incredible work from getting in.

She takes no prisoners.
spends the first half of the call drilling me

What do you do?
My chest gets hot. 

How would you explain it to a third grader? 
Hotter still.

I realise how vulnerable it is
to say it as it is.

But then she pulls up my poetry 
the expression that floods me
flattens my over-explaining 
forces me to say the thing
and she's like:

This is brilliant. This spoke to me.

...why don't you just write poetry?!

I have never been SO nailed and so lit up at the same time. 

Laughter exploded out of me. 

I have filled containers writing only poetry.
It is my favourite way to speak my mission into life.

I told her I'd been reading aloud at open mics  

Her eyes widened 
like: Duh
Hello 
the writing is on the wall

It nailed me because I realised
I can have that.

I can write in the medium of my flow state
do my medicine work 
undistracted and in my lane 

I don't have to strain until I shit myself 
trying to crack a code 
that's been under my nose the entire time.

In a space that is saturated with dead AI script
poetry is gloriously alive.

Over the last year 
I have closed a lifetimes-long loop 
of exhausting hustle 
and endless healing 

I let the spinning plates shatter 
I let myself be.

I am relaxed
resourced 
cherished 
trusting.

My spiralling mind 
rooted down 
through an open heart 
and a grounded womb.

decoding my brick shit house brain 
gave me the mastery to initiate
across the most important threshold of life -

Spiritual surrender 
Letting go of control 

I.e that thing that makes everything else work 
that makes life feel like it's working

I'm having my best month in business in a while

It's been slowly building 
after years of feast and famine 
of being taken down 
again and again 
by an almighty grip
by a body that never learned how to be.

that straight talking woman
reflecting the obvious:

go write the poetry
go do the thing that is natural
as natural as being

was everything.

#pleb #nostr #plebchain #letgoofcontrol

Restless woman.

There is a swarm of bees behind your eyes
that replaced the swing in your hips.

There is an almighty din inside you
schreeching over the truth.

There is a depth
a pulse
a luminous dark
that you hemorrhage your resources
on staying suspended
just above.

You string yourself up.
Because you don’t know who you are
without the glorified puppetry of survival.

Restless woman
I placed my fingertips
on the furrow of your brow
I pulled the threads down
from the knots in your head.

I made them into roots
and gave them back
to the soil.

I touched your feet
I put weights in your soles

So that you’d give up
the fantasy of flight
of quietly sneaking out the back door of your own life

Restless woman, you are an infinity that you will never escape from.

An eternity that longs to anoint you.
An endlessness that yearns to envelope you.
An emptiness and a fullness that wants nothing more
than to rest in you.

Restless woman
have you stayed still
for long enough to feel God
inside your own body?

Have you held the void’s gaze
fervently enough
to see your own reflection?

Haven’t you played out this exhausting charade
for long enough?

#pleb #nostr #gm #letgo

Ghosting is an entity feeding behaviour.

I don't say that to strike fear into people. It's nothing really to be scared of and being scared just feeds them even more.

Nothing that doesn't have a physical body is more powerful than you are.

But ghosting is a dissociative pattern and disassociation attracts parasites because it's a place where you're not in the house.

Self-abandonment is a form of consent to dimensional weaponry.

Honest connection and vulnerable intimacy is a strong form of spiritual protection.

For nuance: ghosting is not the same as having a boundary. Cutting off contact can absolutely be a clean boundary.

#pleb #plebchain #nostr #dimensionalwarfare

The desperate pursuit of relief is 99% of the pain

Women with hyper-active, looping minds have a fractured relationship with God as the void

The cosmic womb

The noise is there to fill an intolerable space.

This is almost always because of a rupture in utero or at birth.

The blueprint for being is downloaded at birth and integrated in the weeks following.

And being is the void.

Being without vigilance.
Being without expectation or demand.

Being enough.

Returning to being
Letting go into the void with every breath

Is a deep awakening.

It shatters the a-type identity
melts the armour off of the heart
and breathes life into roots that never got to fully form in those precious first moments on Earth.

#pleb #nostr #void

The ability to let go isn't just a nervous system level skill set.

It is a revolutionary luxury in a hyper-masculinised culture beginning to implode on itself.

#pleb #nostr #nervoussystem #letgo #peace

This is the time of year where the rose bush in my garden requires me to fuss it every other day i.e wage war on the green aphids

Several times a week I go out and brush the squillions of little green bodies off the buds and leaves with my fingers. And it fosters a sweet and intimate kind of attention.

I catch sight of the snail that is smaller than the size of my little finger nail resting on a leaf. And the miniscule bits of fluff that are definitely fairies, glistening in the breeze.

Once upon a time I was so scattered I couldn't see a car driving towards me.

Now I can pass hours on a river bank watching all of the tiny things moving.

So much life in one patch of ground no bigger then the size of my hand. And being present enough to see it feeds and satiates something in me that was starving.

Nourishment lives in the now moment.

#pleb #nostr #presence