Absence Makes The Heart Grow.... Weary

My two stepsons are at their birthmother's house all this week for Thanksgiving Break so I am finally feeling the rusty pressure-release valve turning inside my brain. As I sit here and write this I think, "this has been the worst month and a half in my life." Not true, of course. There have been far darker Pits I've trudged through in my past that I'll never talk about. But right now it seems like the worst only because I'm neck deep in it. When I woke up from my nap this afternoon I felt like a huge weight has been lifted from my shoulders. Now I finally have the courage to set fingertips to keyboard once again. I've been neglecting the blog for a reason.

Two day ago I wrote this in a journal and have copied it here verbatim:

The kids are gone for a week! YAY!! This is both a good thing and a bad thing. Good for me and bad for my husband because he wont leave me alone. "Let's run around the house naked all week!" he says. Granted, we did this a lot during Summer Break. It was fun. I'm all for nudism in the home. Very freeing.

But right now my heart's just not in it. So he's pissy because I need time alone. Preferably in the closet with my pillow and blanky. *sigh* Which makes me angry at myself because I totally understand his perspective. So how does the practical gnostic say to her somewhat materialistic non-gnostic husband, "Honey, I'm hearing voices in my head and I'm sorry but I really need you to go away for a while?"

The past month and a half I've been away from the blog(not posting anything personal, just copy/pasting interesting world news) it's basically been because of child education issues. Which has led to a level of frustration so extreme I've closed myself off from Pleroma. What can I say? Aggravation makes one do counterproductive and idiotic things. That's the only defense I have and the backlash has been making me crazy.

Week One: phft. I can handle all this. What's the big deal. I can take care of this on my own.
Week Two: Migraine. And lots of muscle relaxers + Xanax to keep my cool.
Week Three: Screaming at the kids to get their heads out of their butts and to quit taking advantage of my good nature and willingness to help. Not successful.
Week Four: Insomnia.
Week Five: Lost my temper finally and told hubby I want the kids back in brick-and-mortar school. Pronto. As in... yesterday!

A few days ago I finally sat back and realized what I was doing. What I had done to my relationship with Pleroma.

Later that night in my sleep I started hearing lyrics to an Averil Lavigne song. "Who knows what could happen, do what you do just keep on laughing. One thing's true- there's always a brand new day."

The one section Pleroma seems to be bashing against my skull like an anvil is the high pitched, breathy falsetto line of: "Find yourself- who are you?!" He pauses at this particular line and slams his cosmological finger on the repeat button to make sure I hear it at least twenty times before moving onto the same verse, same as the first! I'm Henry the Eighth I am. Henry the Eight I am I am... kidding. But no, really. The repetition of those few lines is pushing me over the edge. I used to like the song. Now I'm ready to crush the damn CD into little itty bitty pieces with my bare hands because it makes me so mad.

This morning in my sleep he moved onto a heartfelt rendition of Chris Isaak's, "Wrong To Love You." (*groan* sappy much?) The vibe I got from him wasn't condemnation or irritation with me so much as sadness and longing. Chris' "Heart Shaped World" came next. Four am and I've got the verses of this song running through my head with the visuals of the "Wicked Game" music video. Dear god. Enough already!!!!!

I've been slowly tuning back in. It's rough. My head aches and my heart is crying. I have to make a tough decision here about the kids' schooling and I don't think anybody's going to be happy with it but me.

We've tried virtual schooling since August of this year. The youngest was being bullied and the eldest showed potential to do far more than what the school would allow him to do. The first month and a half was insane as we tried to learn a completely new system of learning. By the first part of October we were doing fine. Then things started happening which made me realize just how much more independent the boys were truly capable of being but were simply choosing not to be. So I slowly backed off and gave them room to grow. They showed out with temper tantrums and thirteen hour days instead of six. It's all about what they choose to do. It's completely up to them. Brow beating them doesn't work anymore. They're immune to it.

Virtual schooling is a privilege, not a right. Well, technically, it is a "right" of every American parent, however in this particular instance I'm stating that it is a privilege which is just as easily taken away as anything else.

I'm tired. I'm tired of fighting with them, tired of school feeling like a war I wake up to every morning, tired of fighting with my husband over why the kids are still doing schoolwork at 7 o'clock at night, and most of all I'm tried of trying to make peace when all three of them apparently don't give a crap about how much stress this puts me under and how much worse my chronic pain illness flares up because of it. The kids say they want to do virtual school but their actions speak volumes of the opposite and nothing I do seems to change their mind.

When my body pain flares due to stress the entire household essentially shuts down because I am in bed. Nobody seems capable of doing anything correctly without me standing over them or smacking them on the back of the head. Or reminding them. Or writing a list. Or taking away their video games. Or pointing out the obvious fact that no, honey, I'm not going to be able to cook dinner tonight. I'm laying down on the bed with a heating pad behind my shoulders, an icepack on my forehead, and am chugging down Cherry Coke at a frightening speed just to keep the migraine at bay with the caffeine. (I can't take Excedrin because it makes me dizzy so I have to get my caffeine through other products.)

As much as I positively love the flexibility of virtual school for the boys(I could write a book on the virtues of it!! I really do love it! I see it's positive worth and the kids have gained invaluable experience from it.) - it's killing me. Giving deadlines and setting kitchen timers for completing assignments and changing their procrastinating 'I just want to talk and not do schoolwork' attitude hasn't worked. The more I try to steer them in line the more they resist. It's created more tension. Being the stepmom who has the kids during the school year really sucks sometimes. She got out of the marriage easy and honestly? Some days I really hate her for it.

Their birthmom gets the fun job of simply picking them up on Holidays and taking them out for amusement park trips. I'm the one who has the onerous job of making sure their schooling is taken care of. If I don't then I look just as bad as she did when she was married to hubby. She certainly didn't give a damn. So why should I? (I'm suffering from Second-Wife-Syndrome, can't you tell?)

Answer: because I love the boys and I want them to grow up to be flexible, independent minded adults; not sheep. They show the capacity for learning.

But the more I "care" the more they pit their attitudes against me. I feel like a failure. And it doesn't matter how many logical discussions we have together or individually. They understand the rationale. They really do! They simply choose not to care.

And this is why I'm done with virtual school and being so involved with their schooling, period. I do care. But I care about my sanity more. And that's really the bottom line. If I'm driven bonkers because I care so much then how can I help out around the house and do the basic things which need to be done? Hubby has gotten so used to me taking over all the schooling issues that he just sits back and lets me do it all. Well, my lips are sealed as of today. He's going to have to grow a pair and take hold of the reins.

So that's the end of the book I wrote yesterday. When I woke up from my afternoon nap today it was from a nightmare. Vivid. I felt like if I opened my eyes I'd be right smack in the middle of it. This nightmare is what prompted me to sit down at the computer today and take stock of what has happened the past few weeks.

The nightmare was what our school day was going to be like this coming Tuesday when they returned from their birthmother's. Time-outs. Yelling. Frustration. Whining. More time-outs. Procrastination. Rinse and repeat at will.... And then finally, both boys end up sitting on their bed, grounded, the rest of the afternoon because they are simply not willing to quietly do their work.

We have had whole afternoons like that in the past. Few and far between but yes, they have occurred. So it's not some surreal creation of my imagination. But when I woke up it felt like a horrible epiphany and I had to act on it. So swallowed my angst and asked what it meant. The answer? "You already know." Gee. Thanks.

Sarcasm aside, yes, I do know what it means. Sometimes you gotta ask stupid questions and get stupid answers before you sit up and take note of the obvious. Thick head and all that.

Hubby and I have been arguing about this for about two weeks now. I told him I was done two weeks ago. He remained hopeful that I'd find another positive "wave" coming into shore and would ride out this negative one, thus forgetting why I was so upset. Nope. Ain't gonna happen.

I really am done being their "Learning Coach," as the school calls the position of the parent who stays home with the child(ren). More like their babysitter without the benefits of being recognized as an authority on anything more than answering ridiculous questions like, "But I don't understand this. What does this say?" *sigh* If a child can read(and mine can, very very well, thank you.) then following simple step-by-step instructions isn't difficult. If it is then you have a learning problem. These boys don't. Or, if they'd like to make one up it'd be called "ActLikeAnIdiotAndMaybeShe'llBeStupidEnoughToGiveUsTheAnswer."

Sorry, but this momma ain't no dummy. I wasn't born one and I certainly didn't become one by marrying their father. My IQ did not drop when I said "I Do" and they knew me for quite a while before I said those words. I see right through them. And when they're faced with this knowledge they clam up and then act even more belligerent.

So, that's where I've been the past few weeks. In my own little private hell of my own making. Because you know, I'm the one who pushed for them to try virtual school in the first place when the bullying became too much and the other child's potential was staring us in the face. I'm the one who jumped through the fiery hoops to make it all happen, which, by the way, took months of preparation.

Now I have to figure out how I'm going to react when they come back from vacation. Pondering. Musing. I'm getting there, slowly but surely. The fact that I'm putting my foot down already makes me feel about 20% better. Now maybe I can ease up on the Cherry Coke.

*******************************

The title of a book I'd read in the past came to mind from Pleroma a few days ago and I finally acted on the direction to look it up again. It's the series of books by Jane Roberts which begins with "Seth Speaks." That's actually the only one I've read. It blew my mind. Opened doors.

Now I find out there were other Seth books put out by the "author." I have them on the way and look forward to revisiting this character. I peeked into The Nature of Psyche: Its Human Expression on Amazon and found a passage which held me riveted to my chair for a full hour in silent contemplation. As a lay gnostic with some time and experience with Pleroma, I think I can read Seth's writings in a different light now. It's glaringly obvious now what I was reading at the time in Seth Speaks, however, I stalled for years until another knock came on my mental door, and that was the call to layman's gnosis.

From page four of the Nature of Psyche: Its Human Expression:

"... for each of your experiences, however minute or seemingly insignificant, becomes part of the knowledge of your species. Where did you come from and where are you going? What are you? What is the nature of the psyche?

I can only write a portion of this book. You must complete it. For "The Psyche" is meaningless concept as it relates to the individual psyche. I speak to you from levels of yourself that you have forgotten, and yet not forgotten. I speak to you through the printed page, and yet my words will rearouse within you the voices that spoke to you in your childhood, and before your birth.

This will not be a dry treatise, studiously informing you about some hypothetical structure called the psyche, but will instead evoke from the depths of your being experiences that you have forgotten, and bring together from the vast reaches of time and space the miraculous identity that is yourself."

Br. Jay on Night Caravan wrote:

Adam....Where is Your Leaf?

Jesus said, "Adam came from immense power and wealth, but he wasn't worthy of you. If he was worthy, he wouldn't have tasted death." Gospel of Thomas 85

Adam came from God, and yet he chose to fall into ignorance. The death is the blindness of the soul to that of the spirit. He forgot where he came from, and who he was. The practice of this way is not easy. It is much easier to fall into ignorance again and again. What a challenge to keep this fire going day and night. Only those who pursue this gnosis will taste of it. One need not convert to my religion or any particular religion to know this gnosis. However one must do the work and be met by grace that changes everything about you. The fruit of this is compassion.



Amen, Brother!

Attaining Gnosis

How exactly does a person jump from dogmatic Christianity to gnosis? Because it is an extraordinary leap. Think about it. You're taught in dogmatic Christianity that Jesus literally died for our sins, Noah built an Ark because Jehovah was angry at the rest of humanity's sins(except for one family's), it's perfectly alright to incestuously sleep with your father if the goal is to continue the human race, Jehovah/Allah looks kindly upon those who murder others as long as they're infidels, and a myriad of other heinous concepts....

.... doesn't it seem a bit much to wrap your head around? Doesn't it seem unkind? If you can convince yourself that Jehovah of the New and Old Testament isn't seriously schizophrenic and in need of a therapist of the highest caliber then you're nowhere near the path of knowing what reality is. And that is what gnosis means. Knowing. Rationality is a must in attaining gnosis. A person who likes to be spoon-fed what to think will never attain gnosis because that is the antithesis of what the good god wants for you, which is to Grow Up and reach your potential Adulthood.

But what if you are on that path? What if you do find all these bizarre contradictions in the Bible too much for your heart to handle? What if you don't feel loved by God so much as enslaved? Then you know that you're on your way to change. If something just doesn't feel right with what you read in dogmatic texts like the Old and New Testament then you're in for a wild journey.

Let me first make clear to you that there is no written text you will ever find which will give you a step by step set of instructions on finding gnosis. It doesn't exist. It is a 100% personal experience which is personalized by ... guess? Ourselves. Our own choices. It's true. No one ever wakes up and falls into a state of gnosis when the day before they were speaking-in-tongues-Pentecostals. Or Baptists. Or Jews. It just doesn't happen.

For some gnostics they claim that they turned their back on dogmatic Christianity/Hinduism/Islam/Judaism/etc because of this inner voice which told them that all is not as it seems when they looked at the big wide world around them. They began searching for answers by investigating any and all religions. Some people immerse themselves in meditations, yoga, breathing exercises, and even occult practices involving deities which their childhood religion forbade researching lest it taint their minds. Others simply hop around to different church denominations, never happy but always feeling like they're on the cusp of finding what they're looking for. Most turn into rabid book worms. Gnostics are generally well read folks, as a rule. We have to be in order to educate ourselves on our choices instead of blindly following others like sleepy sheep. Anything from Valentinus to Plotinus to Plato to Shakespeare... you'll find it all on our bookshelves, even if there is an increasing number of very good modern gnostic authors to choose from.

There is no One Path to get on the path to gnosis. Every person's journey is unique and we all have a childhood of sorts which we must go through in order to find the right path to gnosis for us. Exploration is encouraged!! There are bits of gnostic wisdom in all religions to be found. However there are common themes in these journeys. Something nagged at them in the back of their mind and they couldn't in good conscience continue practicing a religion they had no faith in. The tide turned, that person changed, and their eyes opened. They realized that they were enslaved by the material world and that their spirit was in fact a separate entity from their body. They no longer identified with the material world and saw its many sparkling lures for exactly what they are: a means to trap our minds in an empty oblivion of entertainment. The truth is that the material world is meant to entertain us away from thinking about the very nature of ourselves.

The good god wants us to be loved and feel loved because we deserve it. It is our birthright. Not because we've jumped through so-many hoops that it satisfies some bent egotistical mania Jehovah possesses. Because the good god is not egotistical in any way. He knows what's what and doesn't require our blind subservience.

The type of relationship you will end up having with the good god/the All/pleroma is one of confidence, enduring endearment, questing and yet always finding. When we 'grow up' and find the good god we realize just how little we needed the pomp and ceremony of the fearful branches of Christianity of our youth. Our gnostic childhood when we first find him is quite exciting!!!

I encourage you to use Google and your own curious mind to ferret out those answers you've been looking for. Wikipedia is gnostic-friendly and so is Amazon and Barnes & Noble. Just don't cross your fingers that you'll find what you're looking for in your local Christian Bookstore. Think outside the box.

Key words to use in your quest: gnosis, gnostics, gnostic writers, Valentinus, Nicene Council, Irenaeus, Gnothi Seauton, Nag Hammadi Scrolls, Cathar, Gospels of: Thomas, John, Baruch, Mary, The Secret Gospel of James, Pleroma, The All, Gospel of Truth, Gnostic Bible.

Idiot. Jackass. Asshat. The Show!

A man steps onto a stage in front of a microphone before hundreds of people. This man suddenly balls up his fist and punches himself in the eye. The crowd, silent before, jumps to their feet and begin to cheer wildly as the entertainer before them proceeds to literally beat himself up.

Does this sound idiotic to you?

It's a TV show. I wish I was pulling your leg. I really do. But it's real and it's called Jackass.

There is a new quaint little word popping up on the internet here and there. I believe it began with the Etsy handmade artisan community. It's "asshat." This is the phenomenon where a person acts like an ass, is proud of it, and because of this pride they wear it like a hat every single day. That is asshattery. This phrase began being to be used when referring to Etsy's negligent staff of dorks who think it's funny to crash certain key parts of their site(their shop owner's way of making their living) and then go in the forums and ask, "So what kind of improvements would you like to see? Let's make a list." This same list is added to by shop owners and customers for about 200 pages and then promptly ignored by staff. They do the same thing every single week. And nothing on that list is ever implemented. Meanwhile, the person who depends on their Etsy shop profits to pay their bills is left swinging in the wind.

I mention idiocy and asshattery today for a number of reasons. The first is because of something which happened to my eight year old son last week. The second because of a phrase which pleroma gave me to meditate on in the shower this morning. The phrase was, "You're only as ignorant as you choose to be." As I contemplated this it gradually morphed into, "You're only as big of a jackass as you choose to be." Thus, the visualization of the show Jackass planted itself firmly in my mind this morning at 7:15am Eastern.

Slapping someone on the head with a Bible and shouting at them, "You're a jackass- go redeem yourself!" only works in a handful of cases. Most of those jackasses end up in a mental coma of "redemption" and screaming to masses of innocent pedestrians about the Apocalypse and how they were saved by Jesus. (see previous blog post about Redemption. Specifically, question #10.)

So what does work? How can we stop the asshattery?

Finding truth would seem to be a good start. Gnōthi Seauton, sweetheart! Know Thyself!

So when you find yourself and look at that immortal spark which is YOU standing in front of the mirror, what happens when you really don't like what you see?

Keeping this question in mind, let me divert a small portion of your attention to the incident which happened with my eight year old last week.

Two boys in red shirts climb on my son's school bus Wednesday afternoon. They then punch my son, rip the shoe and sock off one of his friends, steal this same friend's bookbag and play keep away with it. My son's friend is a kindergarten age child who, when he got off the bus that afternoon, was in tears carrying this shoe and sock over to his mother. My son grabbed the bookbag away from the two bullies and gave it to his friend.

I mention the red shirts because this is one of the main things my son could tell me about the boys to describe them. They were obviously new in school because the school's official uniform colors are blue, green, and white. Only newbies who don't know any better wear red shirts. (We should know. We did it at the beginning of the year. lol)

When the kindergartner's mother and I got together to decide a course of action the end result was a confrontation with not only the bus driver but the principal of the school and police officers. The bus driver wouldn't let us on the bus to have our children point out the two who terrorized them. He also stated that he didn't see anything happen the previous day. What, a child is bawling crying holding his shoe as he's getting off your bus and you don't notice? That doesn't pique your attention and sympathy, let alone common decency to inquire as to what happened to upset the child?

The school was about as helpful as a school of piranhas defending one of their own. Needlessly. The principal stated there was a camera on the bus. When we try to file a police report the police tell us that there was no incident to report without ever even looking at the tape. The asshattery continues.

Come to find out, there IS NO tape in the camera on the bus. It is mysteriously vacant of tape. No tape inside.

The principal then tells us the next day that the two children are not even enrolled in their school!!! Department of Children and Families had removed the boys(who lived on the other side of town) from their home earlier the previous day and thought it would be ok to stick them on any bus which was in the region their new caretakers were, not even bothering to enroll the children legally.

The boys were removed from the school that day and have not been seen since.

You've got a kindergarten age child terrified to go to school for fear those boys will rip his clothes off, a third-grader who is mystified about exactly what happened and is scratching his head at the whole thing, and two sets of parents wanting answers when there are none that the school is offering besides "hey, there was a sister on that bus. Didn't your children see her?" when wait- how did you know there was a sister on the bus if you didn't have a tape in the camera? Both my son and his friend emphatically deny there was a girl nearby who could have been the bully's sister. So why does the school mention this "sister" when it really has nothing to do with the incident?

We're looking into virtual/online schooling at this point. This is not the first case of asshattery we've seen from this particular school. As a matter of fact, it has been ongoing from the very first day.

I think our blue and green planet of Terra needs to be renamed Jackass, The Show.