Suddenly, I felt misplaced. Lightworkers, sensitive people as a whole, possibly Empaths will understand this feeling... The feeling of feeling trapped inside your body.
A sudden unease, coupled by a slight nausea in your soul.
I registered the feeling, immediately. A thought, "Shit, I hate this" then - a young girl.
She couldn't have been more than 16 years old. Blonde-ish hair. Wearing a green blousey dress, but it wasn't blousey material. It was covered in, the only way I can explain, cream colored polka-dots. But they weren't dots. They were shapes. Possibly birds. Possibly pineapples. Something.
She was frustrated. A rush of, "I'm so sick of nobody hearing me", I registered she was in some really weird dark grey hallway, then she was gone.
And as she left, so too did my misplaced feeling.
I wonder now if every other time in my life I've felt that way, a spirit was trying to be heard.
I'll file that away in the 'No Clue' cabinet.
In other news...
Spirit told me why I have my patience problem. Finally.
I was driving, in the car, contemplating life - philosophy - the many complexities of humanity - when suddenly, it clicked.
When spirit downloads information into you, it often feels and may even sound like your own consciousness. So you're not frightened, of course. Always downloaded at lightning speed. In the space of a heartbeat, never near how long it would actually take for you to piece together the 'logic puzzle' of steps to find the conclusion in your human brain. No. Much faster. Instant.
In an instant, you just know this long and sometimes complicated answer. Thought. Conclusion.
"You're patience is a problem because you can't recall any lifetime you've seen to completion."
*lightbulb goes off*
That's about right, isn't it?
I've had over 20 lifetimes, I remember 8 - give or take some details and jarred memories. The ones I remember? All traumatic.
Titanic, killed, drowning
Salem, murdered, hanging (potentially, also new discovery, I think my identity is becoming clear as I get older here).
Egypt, snake bite (potentially, that is a new discovery belonging to either me or Ashley Gray).
Prostitute on a confederate soldiers boat, killed, explosives.
1950s Hollywood, tortured, murdered, serial killer.
King Henry era, think I was killed, not entirely sure why or how. That, or I died of some illness way too young.
So on and so forth.
I never finished any of them.
So in this lifetime, this entire lifetime, I've battled patience.
Always feeling like I don't have enough time.
Always feeling like I have to do it all today, now, right away.
I've always worked with patience. It's eluded me. Now, I understand I've actually been running to beat this clock that's been fucking with me in so many lifetimes it's almost unbelievable.
Makes total, complete sense.
Finally. An answer.
And subsequently... Some peace.
I also had a moment of infinite wonder. As I often do with spirit. Oh spirit, how beautiful it truly is.
I was in a total and complete space of detachment. We know attachment is the absolute root of all suffering, right? Well, I had - by no decision of my own - entered complete detachment.
I wasn't sad, as I usually am. Usually, when I reach detachment, it's then followed by me watching Oprah's Masterclass about Surrender while I'm crying tears of complete and utter discouragement. Loss, even.
This time, no. I was at complete peace. Which I know is spirit, really and truly. All love is spirit. All pure positivity is Angels and spirit.
So, I - for probably the first time in my life - sat and witnessed detachment within myself. No judgements. No running after what was being taken from me. It just was, and it was peaceful. A relief. It felt like a relief, and I welcomed it.
Detachment from career worries, life, who I was, what I'm doing, what I'm doing next... fucking everything.
I knew that this new deep rooted peace meant it was coming from somewhere outside of myself. I felt that. I guess I didn't feel that in the moment, but I intuitively knew it.
As I now know to do... I turned to spirit. My guides. Angels. Loved ones.
I immediately turned to Lucy, "Mom, what's going on? What do I do? I'll wait for your guidance."
And I did.
I waited a good week or so before a series idea was quite literally dropped into my brain that I hadn't thought of in several years.
Thought it was impossible. Thought it was stupid. Thought it just couldn't be done.
Suddenly, if felt easy. Do-able. Logical. A perfect next step.
"Okay. Message recieved. But how?"
Not even a day later, a friend messages me who came back from LA and realized his passion is writing.
I needed writers.
Suddenly, a friend mentions a friend owning the location I so desperately need. And that friend being totally and completely open to letting anyone film there, no pay required.
We have $0 budget.
(#IndieFilm #TrustTheStruggle #MakesYouLearnAndWorkHarder)
Suddenly, I've got characters written out and season ideas.
All, still, detached.
Then, I begin to panic.
"I can't do this, I'm not a writer and this isn't an idea that's really been done before. We have no budget and I don't want investors and I know I want to keep it truly indie and work up not just sell some idea to Netflix, I want to work and build careers and create opportunities. What if I'm not good enough? What if this all falls apart?"
Lucy stopped me really quick, "Just put one foot in front of the other and DO IT. Just. Do. It."
Intuitively, I was guided (by Desi I believe, he's joined my team officially I think) to throw any rule-book I thought I needed or was worries about out the window and just run on 'why not's and intuition.
Okay, I can do that.
I'm going and going, spinning my wheels and looking for writers and people and ideas and inspiration.
I come to a wall.
Instead of feverishly attempting to climb the wall in a panic, I stopped. Took several seats.
Detachment wasn't my friend anymore.
Took several additional seats.
What's happening here? Am I imploding on myself? Am I destroying something brilliant because I'm thinking exactly what Kevin Smith told all the people in that room at Sundance in 2011... That they make it all so intimidating, no kid feels they can even try to get into it now.
Am I being pulled to a screeching halt by these elitist billionaires who make $180 million dollar remakes, and don't really ever hire new talent or believe in dreams and hope? Am I really allowing people who value the dollar above humanity to intimidate me somehow, however subconscious it may be?
Because I'm not Jared or Kyle? They were writers, they were excellent. I'm not. Not in this 'needs to be formatted this way' way.
I didn't even know.
I tried to search for guidance again, and fell short.
Attachment... Root of all suffering. Even blocks spirit. Too much shit in the way.
It took several more days before I found that peaceful detachment again, and when I did, Lucy followed.
I was complaining to Lucy - crying, as usual, to her about my problems. Thoughts, feelings, issues.
I didn't feel like I knew enough. Had enough credentials. Support. Know-how. There is absolutely no one in a place of human existence at this moment who I do respect or value who would give me the time of day.
In film, there are no mentors. You can find teachers and variations on a 'teacher' in every film school or workshop anywhere in the world... But a true, honest to goodness mentor? No. Not in this industry.
& if by some grace of God you do, you better be extremely careful. Majority of the willing are men who don't have positive intentions for or with you. Sad, but true.
When I say 'mentor', I don't mean 'someone to hold your hand through everything', no. When I speak 'mentor' or 'mentorship', in my definition, I personally define that as someone who has come before you. Someone who knows what they're doing. Someone who you can call and get inspiration. Someone who you can ask a tough question, and they'll tell you the honest answer. Someone who believes in you, even by way of silent encouragement. Someone who knows where you are, understands, can maybe offer advice here and there, might even let you shed a tear or two, and might stand in your corner one day and be proud of you.
So, I vented.
"Lucy, I need to learn more. About everything. I know you're there, but you're not human. You're not here here. Is there even anybody around who is somebody worth learning from? Knowing? Who would care? Is a good person left in this industry? Just show me where I can learn."
Not even an hour later I had my TV on, running and processing in the background of my mind. I was blank, a state of total vacancy.
I physically jolted as I heard Lucy's unmistakeable voice, "HER."
I won't say who it was (I'll let the universe work that out and share later), but I looked. I didn't know who she was. Who the hell is that?
"HER. Learn from her. Find her."
Find who? Still didn't know who the hell this person is.
I'm never anyone to take messages from spirit, especially as loud and direct as this particular one, lightly. So, I woke up and followed the bouncing ball.
I searched IMDb. Nope, never heard of this woman before. Just watched this show she is on.
I wasn't born yet when she did a lot of stuff, and was maybe 6 or 7 when she did one of the biggest things in her career. Lots of stage and theater...
...suddenly wondering why Spirit has been pestering me to go to NY and do theater. Coinsidence?
Okay, so I don't know this woman and haven't ever heard of her.
YouTube, here I come.
I sat like the good student I am and listened to absolutely every single interview available on YouTube with this woman, and let me tell you... Lucy fucking knows me, knows the type of people I admire and respect, and knows who the hell knows their shit.
I learned more from this woman's interviews over the last however many years than I have EVER learned in any acting class or workshop - ever. I learned more about life, people, just... Fucking everything.
It's interesting how few people have that type of aura. An air about them that commands instant respect. Not for egotistical reasons, but for sane and very well-intentioned reasons. I don't even know how to explain it. Instantly my read on her was A+. An excellent human being.
Super, super smart. Excellent at her craft. All around a brilliant woman. She probably has had dozens and dozens of lifetimes.
Then, upon further research, one of the biggest hit shows this woman was on exists solely because of Lucille Ball.
Go fucking figure.
Problem is, there's legitimately no way to get a hold of her short of going through an agent who I know won't ever pass anything along. And what would I even say?
This is when guidance by spirit and with spirit becomes... A hinderance. Truth doesn't set you free, it turns you into the village idiot. Lies don't make you feel better, not because they're lies - it's just pretty flattery to cover the truth - but because you don't get why people don't just get this stuff.
Also, saying, "Hey! Lucille Ball told me to get in touch with you! Coffee?" will get you 'banned' far more quickly than "I'm a huge fan please can I meet you" ever would.
I have been guided to act on hiring her for something I do one day, so that will probably be the 'in' Lucy wants. Regardless, I'm completely thrilled Lucy alerted me to this brilliant woman's existence.
It's really beautiful to know that out there, in the actual physical world, there's a woman who probably would give some advice and the time or day to me one day. Maybe even work with me. Let me learn things from her, and pick her brain. Who isn't some copy-cat who walked off the line in the Hollywood assembly plant. Who is a real human being, with real human feelings.
That shit in this industry is fucking rare.
Lucy has assured me she wouldn't send me someone who would ever be that way. Duh. Lucy really, really likes and admires this woman as well. Lucy's a majority of the influence that got her cast on that show Lucy was responsible for.
(Though she helped cast her from Spirit.)
Girl power, bitches.
So, that's really all for now.
Been writing with the writers I have, which is wonderful. It's all a brand new experience, and I have to remind myself that I need to enjoy the inbetween moments.
With my patience problem, it's very difficult to do that. Now that I know the real reason behind the issue, it helps.
Heard a woman the other night answer a man with "No."
She had a heavy, interesting Irish accent I believe. There sounded like a 'r' sound at the end of the word 'No', but it was an accent. I have a shit ear for accents, so I could be way wrong.
This moon has been really fucking me up. Sleep patterns are all screwed.
I should hit the hay. It's 4:30a. I'll do some meditation, kiss my kittens goodnight, and go to Snoozeville.
Peace & Love, friends.
(Why do I suddenly smell spaghetti?)