Journal Date: Saturday, January 2, 2021
I remember early on into the first month or so of quarantine– I was reading a book on alchemy, and it was describing the process of “entering the Hermes field,” and how to use this in your own spiritual development and awakening.
In the book, the author creatively describes a meeting with Hermes, and suggests that you can also directly communicate with him, and ask for guidance.
So I decided to try it.
“Hermes, I’m ready– show me my shadow. I’m ready to see the truth.”
I was answered almost immediately, that same night.
It was a lot– it felt very intense. So much so that I had to modify my request a little bit: “I’m ready, but please just show me what I can handle right now. Not more, and not less, just exactly what I am capable of handling at any given moment.”
Honestly, I was scared.
I was coming up against things I’d been running from for a lifetime.
And it hurt. It was painful to see what was there to be seen.
—
Painful, but not exactly surprising.
I already knew I was pretty messed up.
The surprise came just a few months into it, though, when the things I was seeing shifted from how I was wrong, and started to reveal to me how others needed to be held accountable.
This was where it started to get really difficult.
I was used to being the one to blame. My inner critic was so easy to activate, it was already so natural for me to punish myself.
But what do I do when I have to hold other people accountable?
That was beyond terrifying to me.
How could I begin to come to terms with the vast amount of mistreatment from all those people I felt so powerless with?
This was the hardest thing: to come to terms with my family and how they had treated me.
I’d never really allowed myself to consider this.
I’d rather throw myself under the bus, and punish myself, than face the truth of what my family was.
I resisted.
But it soon became undeniable.
There was something deeply wrong with the narrative I’d been sold about who I was, and why they acted as they did toward me.
The narrative was coming undone, even though I’d done my best for 32 years to hold the bundles of lies and patchwork logic together.
I’d changed myself to fit their demands.
I’d sinned just to earn a place in their hell.
And it was all starting to unravel itself before my eyes.
There was nothing I could do to stop it now.
I could look away, but the thread had been pulled loose, and was now coming undone through a life of its own.