localvoidyeller

[localvoidyeller]

The real truth about the infinite money glitch

Is that it all basically boils down to believing that God has your back financially. I’ve been working on the artist’s way for the past 4 or so weeks and I’m on week six, recovering a sense of abundance, and coming from chapter five’s potency, i had high expectations for week 6 and it did not disappoint. The chapter basically talks about our relationship with God and money and how redefining luxury can lead to an increased sense of abundance. The surprise i encountered was that i still had a wounded relationship with money that was limiting its flow to me. I wouldn’t necessarily say i was consciously and singularly focused on improving my relationship with money, but i was aware that i had a less than stellar relationship with it, and it needed improving. I half assed a MindValley course by Ken Honda and all that managed to stick with me was aregato in aregato out, but i abandoned that pretty soon anyway. What i hadn’t realised, until today was that load bearing turd issue surrounding money was where i was receiving support from, or rather, who. I’d always subconsciously suspected there was something wrong with my father’s money, but i guess that was a rather superstitious way of perceiving the issue, see, i had grown up with a miserly father who is increasingly so as he rapidly approaches retirement, a few weeks from now as i type this.

It totally skewed how i perceived money, how I thought it worked and how i felt was the only way i could get it. I believed that i could only get generous or substantial amounts through my father and no one else. I believed that 6,7, or even 8 figures were incredibly hard to get and could only be earned through gruelling amounts of physical and emotional labour. Funny enough, my first job abroad as a waitress mirrored this perfectly. I made my first thousand dollars by overworking and my legs and feet were swollen from the effort for a whole day afterwards. What i was making on regular shifts and work hours was meager and had i less financial support from my father i would have struggled immensely. I experienced controlling behaviour before i even began to fully understand why i was miserable around fiscal discussions. I was rushed and pushed and emotionally guilted for having financial needs. For twenty three and a half years, i was fathered by what i can effectively describe as the most financially fluid broke man. The money is there, but do you know what else he could be doing with the money you’re asking for? And not to mention, he has 3 other people who need the same money for their needs or desires. Fucking hell, it was pathetic to be honest with you. Having a provider that struggled with managing his provisions.

Anyway, my journey has been somewhat interesting, In working with the emotions that were typically triggered due to fiscal discussions, i effectively wound up dissolving my money blocks ina round about way. It’s quite splendid now that i stop and think about it. By acknowledging that there was no point in having or using money if i wasn’t also budgeting for treats and fun experiences, i learned how to manage my personal finances a LOT better than when i was told what to do with the money i was given. Making that thousand dollars from waitressing also radically shifted how i perceived myself and my work ethic, which was crucial given that i had grown up being called lazy because of adhd. I also discovered that waitressing is not a sustainable means of income because i need to work more hours to make a livable wage but also my physical and mental health were steadily declining as i worked more hours. It turns out there’s more to doing nothing and enrichment time than was previously impressed to me by my elders(parents and society) and i think that was a serious failing on their part (given that they’d been around longer than i have and therefore empirically know more stuff). I had to found out the hard way that one’s mental health suffers when they glorify work over play.

Off topic but, I knew i was right for not wanting an office job.

So anyway, 4 years later, here i am, in my parents house dropped out of university (Thank God) and still reliant on their resources to ease the load on myself. I have to say, that sentence is a lot more refreshing than my lived experience but i deserve to enjoy my newly minted perspective shift. God IS the ultimate provider and everyone and everything else is just a middle man, an intermediary. Granted, God and i are pretty close, given what I’ve mean through psychologically and spiritually so i do acknowledge that where i am with my relationship with God is somewhat privileged (but the best part is that anyone can get here, just prepared to do some internal sifting. It may be heavy it may not be. It may feel like passing a kidney stone, it may feel like breathing a sigh of relief, but you will sit lighter afterwards so it’s worth whatever you have to surrender first)

Realising that ultimately what my issue was with money is effectively how it felt getting it mattering more than having it and trusting that like most things, there is a solution around it, and it basically turned into jettisoning the wrong people (middlemen) out of my flow of money in my life. I dont get money from people, i get money from God, through people. If you dont like the people God is using, ask for new ones, if relying n people to give you money is actually a crutch for yoou not giving yourself an enriching life with what you DO have, you need to reconsider your choices and ask for guidance, which is what I’m in the process of doing right now. Also, consider the Helen Hadsell approach, follow your intuition and see where your guidance takes you. Above all, trust and believe in the Higher power that has taken care of you, is taking care of you and will take care of you always.

You’ve got this queen!

[localvoidyeller]

Idk what to write about this keyboard is what is keeping me here tbh

I was born and raised to christian parents ina somewhat religious household. I went to catholic convent school for four years (Grade 1 to 4) and i hated it. Not every moment of it, just the religious aspects. I don’t actually remember when i started going to mass but it was mabndatory, even for the muslims and it was my first ever endurance test in life. After i managed to pass the first hurdle with flying colors (staying awake all throughout, it went on for what seemed like hours) i mastered the art of zoning out and filling my time with delicious daydreams. I believe it was there that i perfected my storytelling chops, sitting and standing at al the right moments, clapping in time to the music. The music was the only thing semi decent about mass. I was too young for holy communion so my friends and i practiced with Ribena and crisps at the back of the field near the trees and benches. Needless to say the teacher on duty that (rudely) interrupted us was not pleased.

My biggest hung up with catholic school was how we were dissuaded from asking anything important that was religiously flavoured. I got the sense that we were meant to take what the nuns had to say as gospel truth and i knew if I’d stay there for a few more years id get in trouble for saying something blasphemous. Thank goodness is as whisked away after fourth grade.

My transition to a more pluralistic school (we had muslims, Christian’s and Hindus there) was what i feel led me to have, creative freedom when it came to exploring themes of faith and religion and in a crude sense, my spirituality. I was a self proclaimed atheist at some point, much to the amusement of some of my classmates (someone should seriously study the religious trauma catholic schools inflict on young souls.), but felt safe enough to evolve in my thinking and beliefs. Even my mother seemed forward thinking coming from a catholic background herself.

I started to rely more heavily on a higher power as i progressed in my classes and school got harder. I had transitioned from being agnostic to believing in Divine assistance and calling on it sporadically every so often. The last two years of high school being the hardest in my life, i “fell out of touch” with God, blaming “Him” for all the misery in my life and my mothers not knowing back then that the real issue was the familial dysfunction i was raised in could remain invisible no longer and the Supreme Emotional Anguish (i know its dramatic but that’s what it felt like) i was experiencing was a consequence of eighteen years of emotional buildup making itself incredibly known to me. I couldn’t hide from the truth of everything i was experiencing and realising as well as finish my assessments, learn and study and stay on top of all the extracurricular is as hurling myself into to make up for the fact that I’d been slacking off, not out of laziness, but out of fear how big everything felt. I don’t remember a lot of the day to day.

Tarot for me happened as part of a wake up call I experienced after the pandemic. After graduating high school and getting good enough grades for university by the skin of my teeth, i was ITCHING to leave behind the dysfunctionallity of my parents house. Naturally, I made this known and this did not go down well with my mother. The pandemic was hard emotionally, spiritually, and mentally. I hit rock bottom twice. I had undiagnosed ADHD, a head full of unhealthy coping mechanism, anxiety to rival that of a mouse and, after being prescribed medication, a new found substance abuse problem. Life felt so shitty and the ADHD medication highlighted that to me so loudly, I’d get high everyday at the end of the day just to undo how i felt on adhd medication. AND, to make it worse, i was in love with someone who wasn’t good for me, the codependent version of me thrived at this juncture. Suffice to say that my life was an emotional clusterfuck. The only reprieve was the summer i spent outside the student accomodation i had lived in was sequestered in for the better part of the year, 2 weeks after I’d just started my first year of university. I got a credit that summer after 3 terms of scraping the bottom of the barrel with my grades.

My wake up call happened on shrooms. I had just acquired some from my dealer and decided to split it with a friend, as a cost cutting measure. We took it under a tree near my dorm, she headed to hers and i to mine. When I asked her what i experience was, she said she was really happy. Like incredibly happy, and at the time, i thought she was lying heartlessly given that id just spent my trip crying out everything in me. I was geniunely shocked at how diffferent her experience was from mine. I was so sad and everything that contributed to and compounded to my misery just came to the forefront until all I could do was face it. My face was incredibly swollen from the crying, I could hardly recognise myself in the mirror.

The medicine told me this: For as long as you dont take charge of your life, you will continue to be miserable. (I’m paraphrasing here), and I have never been the same since.

I believe the term for it is the dark night of the soul, characterised by disconnection from my truth, overwhelming emotional anguish or turmoil, a good old fashioned existential crisis (classic), a shedding of old identities, lots of introspection and revisiting past traumas, fatigue and insomnia, not caring much about the external world (not there was much of an external world during the pandemic) and finally, a desire for better.

In a matter of days, i started noticing shifts, I switched from a dark dorm room (heh) to brighter one by the main road near campus. It was there that i started seeing angel numbers more because of the bus numbers.

I became distinctly more spiritual after this point, going ahead to purchase my first tarot deck (The Illuminated Tarot by xxx) based purely on aesthetics, buying crystals and incense, smoking weed (but differently this time, i promise) and spending more time in nature. While it was superficial and essentially crude, i believe it was a gateway to deeper spiritual truths. I don’t exactly remember making a conscious decision to leave uni behind, all i remember is that all my decisions led me to dropping out. I didn’t even admit out loud to myself what i had done until much later than i should have. I ended up losing all my friends because of this. It was cowardly the way i did it and I’m not proud of it. I had grown some but i still had some more growing to do.

The second tarot deck i purchased looked at me when i walked into its shop. I’m not joking. It’s actually a recurring theme with this deck, The Guardian Angel Messages Tarot by Radleigh Valentine (I have it with me as is write this, at 7:44 pm). It will catch my attention when I need to know something.

There’s a blonde angel in purple robes on the cover that fixes you with a rather pointed stare when she needs to. The author chose well to be honest. I bought it for 44 dollars and a couple of scents, completely on impulse in a crystal shop in the artsy part of the city.