Tonight, I get the first attunement of my Reiki II attunement. To those of you who don’t know what Reiki is, Ima just tell you to google it. I’m running out of time, and dinner service awaits me.
In preparation for my full attunement on Saturday, I am supposed to meditate daily and journal. On Thursday, I have to not eat meat (hahaha), no alcohol, caffeine or smoking. I smoke a pack/week right now, I don’t eat meat, I rarely drink anymore and I am a caffeine addict. Lucky for me, my Master (a/k/a local BFF) heard the tremor in my voice as I begged her not to make me give up coffee, for my family’s sake. The rest is cake.
I haven’t journaled yet, so I figure this is a good place to do it, since its my blog and all… and I need filler for NaBloPoMo (I promise to remember to put up some sort of participant graphic soon). Not that I’m not taking Reiki II seriously, because I am, but like everything else in my life, I’m a bloggertunist. If it happens to me, then it very likely ends up here, no matter who reads it… or not. So there.
In a nutshell, I chose a podcast meditation from Meditation Oasis the past two nights, about “letting go” – since I was told to meditate about, well, letting go of worry, guilt, anger and negativity. I hold on to guilt pretty much like Smigel (my precious, precious guilt), so this is a really, really good thing for me, in general. The results have been pretty interesting, so far:
Night 1: I came out of the meditation promising myself that I would no longer resist the future, be afraid of what is coming. I was letting go of my fear. That, my friends, felt awesome. Tingly even. I was in a superior mood, and I kind of still am.
Night 2: About five minutes into the meditation, that I was doing in public (on the couch), Talker came up and interrupted me. He got “redirected” and I was back on my way to letting go of anger (oops). Then, I hear The Husband screaming for me. Truly annoyed at this point, I stomped out to the kitchen to see that my dog-niece (my sister’s dog that we now own) had been attacked… by our cat. Her ear was dripping blood from the tip (beagle ears), so the Psycho Cat must have somehow gotten a vein. There were literally dozens of drops of beagle blood on my kitchen floor. Sigh. Meditation over. Explain to Talker, who was screaming, again, from the basement that since I don’t have a private place to go, he has to learn to respect my “me” time or I’m going to sell him to my friend down in Richmond who thinks he and his potato weirdness is hilarious.
Without going into the “whys” of the weird sleeping arrangements around here, I can say that for the past year, I’ve been periodically bitchy about the fact that The Husband and Talker both have two rooms, each, and I have a couch and a corner in the kitchen. Not fair. This is why I have no privacy (blah blah).
About an hour later, The Husband informs me that he is vacating the Master bedroom and that we will be able to fit a twin bed into his office, where he will sleep, compute, watch TV and possibly become one with the earth below… as in, he’ll be in the basement 99% of his day, between work and home. I argue. He stands firm in the face of a self-righteous Melia. I go to bed, awakened at 2am by Mary Sunshine, and spend the rest of the night on the couch, unable to move, because Mary Sunshine is cuddled up with me.
The Husband wins. I woke up incredibly sore, and I know from the meditations that I need to stop resisting what I think is right, and let things come to me as they will. This time, its an actual bed inside an actual room, with an actual door… and a lock.
And I’ve not even gotten attuned yet.
