Tag Archives: clearing cellular memory

the first phone conversation, or the fine art of penis thrusting

In which I continue to reveal what I learned from a dating website scam

The First Phone Conversation

The first thing that was obvious was his very thick accent. He had already told me, via the dating site, that he was originally from Poland (and yes, this sparked some suspicion). The accent was so thick, in fact, that I had a horrible time understanding him. Which made me want to giggle, 1stphone3both because I was so bloody nervous and also because that was a classic situation, right? You know how when you are talking to someone that, for whatever reason, you can’t understand, and you’ve asked “what?” and “say again, please” and “excuse me?” so may times that it becomes embarrassing and you just end up saying nothing, smiling and nodding knowingly? Only there was no way that would work, because it was a GD phone conversation. Gawd! What to do?! And besides the accent, he was mumbling. I kept wanting to tell him to speak up, but resisted the urge. Instead, I muddled through as best I could and tried to be polite.

“How was your day?”—finally! Something I could understand!

“Well, I was pretty nervous all day, knowing you were gonna call, so I had a good, but nervous, day, I guess.” I laughed at the memory of my day, making fun of myself. He laughed gently too, which scored him some points in my book—both the laughter and the gentle part.

I had been alone in the small office where I work downtown, which happens sometimes and which I like, being the introvert that I am. I get my work done much more easily when no one is around. I like being alone much of the time. (Okay, don’t even get me started on that conversation. The one about why, if I love being alone so much, I’m on a dating website.)

I love being alone because I can be myself, which, especially at my no-longer-a-Spring-chicken age, is often just down right goofy. I have a lot of fun. I laugh at myself out loud—at my own wacky, creative thoughts, w??????????hen I mistype on the keyboard and type some crazy, significant, subconscious, synchronistic thing. When the solution to some long-standing problem suddenly pops into being inside my universe and it was so GD obvious, but I couldn’t see it until now. When I’m typing a word at the same time a song I’ve never heard is saying that same word, etc.

I also cry a lot when I’m alone—with joy, with sorrow, with whatever is happening around and inside me at that moment. Being alone gives me the freedom to live right in the present moment and be able to react to it and experience it out loud.

One minute I’d be laughing at myself, the next minute I’d sit and make myself breathe deliberately and calm myself for a few seconds. Then I’d think of his promise to call later and jump up, yelling obscenities, and laugh, “Oh my gawd, what am I doing?! He is actually gonna call me today! And what the hell are we gonna talk about, anyway?!” At which point I would make a flustered mental note to get back online to the dating site before the call and check out his profile again to see what common interests we had so that I could make notes and use them during the call.

“Oh my gawd, what are you doing, Gracie!?” was the theme of that day, and I laughed at myself each time, knowing this was exactly what I wanted and had asked the Universe for. “So just buck up, my dear Gracie, and do it,” I told myself repeatedly, loving and hating, at the very same time, that nervous, anticipatory stomach flutter.

I kept the phone close to me when I got home, not wanting to miss his call. I changed clothes, ate something and began checking emails, as usual. A friend who was aware of my Divine Feminine (DF) journey had sent me a link to a blog post by a woman who was explaining—in 1stphone4hilarious and all too-familiar detail—why she couldn’t fuck spiritual guys—or rather, she explained, why they couldn’t fuck her. I recognized almost every man I had ever been with in that post. I clicked around her blog and was totally groovin’ on it so that when the phone rang, I was reading an awesome—and extremely well detailed—post directed at men about penis thrusting techniques during sex. 1stphone5

“Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit! Oh shit!” as I fumbled the phone a few times and dropped it on the bed where I was sitting with my laptop. I finally got it answered and to my ear. I glanced at the laptop screen and, oh shit!, slammed it shut and tried to focus on the call.

“Crap, how bloody desperate do I look?” I thought, sitting here alone getting horny reading a blog about thrusting techniques. (Although in my defense and to be fair to her, it was a great post, was right on, and everyone really does need to know these things. I had been thinking how I totally agreed with everything she was saying and wishing I could send this link to everyone everywhere without it seeming too weird. Plus it had some super hot photos to go with it.)

When I first got on the dating website and men were requesting I talk to them, I nervously admitted to my friend Jo that I didn’t know if I could do this or not. And I meant do it differently than I used to. She had been privy to my DF journey, to my realization that I wasn’t happy with my life and then to the decision to change that. The last two years had been filled with learning,  1stphone2practicing, relearning, research, practice, tears, laughter, practice, be around men, practice, be a vessel of praise for the masculine, practice, allow, change my energy from defensive and combative and masculine (practice) to allowing and feminine—still powerful, but now open too, and practice.

Did I mention the practice thing?

She watched me struggle, cheered me on when I got stuck or angry or depressed. So at some point, one day when she was at my house, I clicked on the dating site and showed her the three bachelors. That one, she pointed at Bachelor number two, confirming my own feelings about the three main choices.

So here I was, sitting on my bed in sock feet, fumbling the phone, trying to decipher the thick (and quickly becoming, sexy) accent of a possible gentlemen suitor, having just closed the laptop on a blog about sexual thrusting techniques. So when he asked quite innocently, and really, the perfectly good getting-to-know-you, conversation-generating question of, “What were you doing when I called?” I had to roll my eyes.

ilovelucyThat was a perfect example of my life. It generates endless opportunities for me to laugh at myself. Most days I feel like I am living in an episode of I Love Lucy.

“Fuck me, how am I gonna get out of this?!” was my instant, panicked thought. It should be known right here that I am a sucky liar. It is not that I lack imagination; I have plenty of imagination—I’m an artist. I just can’t pull it off. I feel guilty, and it is always obvious.

And, I am no prude when it comes to love and sex. In fact, in my exploration of the DF/DM polarities, I had made a point to study everything I could that was related to sex and relationships.

As a Hypnotherapist and months ago, I had even begun facilitating workshops based on the information I had uncovered. I knew it would propel my own DF journey swiftly forward to be surrounded by women doing the same thing. But Bachelor number two didn’t know any of this 1stphone1about me, and I reasoned that the first conversation with someone is probably not the best time to dump all this info on him. And being an introvert doesn’t necessarily mean I’m shy. I am not shy. I can talk to just about anyone about just about anything—including sexual thrusting techniques.

But the fact that this was the first time I’d ever talked to him and that I’d met him on a dating website to begin with and because it was just too much of a cliche’ that a no-longer-a-Spring-chicken woman who already had those two things happening in her life right now, at this very moment, was on what anyone (admit it, you’re thinking it too) would call a “soft porn” (and totally awesome!) blog site at the time of his first call, was just too much—even for me.

I tried to lie. I really dchurch of the dogid try. I have dozens of books on my bedside table—To Kill a Mocking Bird; The Secret Life of Bees; The Green Pharmacy; Eat, Pray, Love; Bach Flower Remedies; The Portable Walt Whitman; Church of the Dog; Hold on to Your N.U.T.s; the list could go on—all in varying categories of having been read, reread, skimmed, dog-eared, underlined, underlined with notes, etc. I could have been reading when the phone rang.

I could have said I had been reading poetry—ee cummings, perhaps; he’s there too. I even have several movies on that same nightstand. I could have been watching Eat, Pray, Love for the thousandth time, You’ve Got Mail, Practical Magic. I tried to come up with something pithy and funny that would be distracting and amusing (at which I am usually very good)—something to change the subject.

Instead, what came out of my mouth, in my usual just-spill-your-guts fashion was, “Okay, I’m busted,” as calmly as possible and in a I’m-busted tone of voice, “I was looking at a blog post about…” my mind in its nervous state was still valiantly trying to save the situation, “…sex,”—and failing. Okay, so I’d managed to save a bit of face there, though, because I hadn’t mentioned the whole “thrusting techniques” thing. Good job, brain! Even for that little bit of a reprieve, I was relieved and happy. But still…

To my extreme relief, and after a too-long-for-my-comfort pause, I heard laughter hit my ear—loud and plenty of it. At some point in there, I joined him, because that’s what I’d wanted to do in the first place anyway. And that’s what I’d have done if I’d been alone with the situation. In that laughter, I felt a bond forming between us, uniting us—because he understood why that was so funny—and so ridiculously human and real.

His laughter finally slowed to a chuckle, “I like that you are so honest with me,” that sexy accent thing again. To which I could only answer with another eye roll, “Yes, I am honest.”

He had no idea about my type of honesty—the type that when someone asks, “What are you thinking about?” I just start in and really tell them. I liken it to mentally/emotionally/verbally throwing up on people. And to be clear, I am always kind in my verbal throwing up. I’m not the type to say things that might be hurtful. In fact, when I know I’ve got to have that type of 1stphone6conversation, I revert to Rule #3: Don’t throw up on them. Don’t say anything until you’ve thought about it very carefully, Gracie, to find a way to say it kindly, calmly and in an adult, assertive but not aggressive, way. I am so careful about that.

So I added, “But I’m always kind in my honesty.” And then silently cringed because as that was spilling out of my big mouth, I remembered one of his emails where he’d said he was looking for a woman who was gentle and kind. So now it was sounding like I was trying to tick off all the items on his “perfect woman” list. And gawd damn it! I’d forgotten to get back online before this call to see what our mutual interests were and make that list, anyway!

Message from me to him via the dating site after our call

May 30th
Hi Michael,
Thanks for the phone call. It was enjoyable talking to you. Here is my email address.

shed some light on it

Using Every Day Poems‘ prompt again today. The prompt is “shed some light on it” and with some help from Jane Siberry’s song, “Calling All Angels”.

it flies out in every direction
as she moves through time and space
even down into the Mother with each step
they seem to be a few inches deeper than the surface
those footfalls
sinking into the soft sweet Belly of the Divine One

careful
considered
measured
but still
bona fide
still just her
in-brief
condensed
rich
boiled down
to the
marrow
the thickness

feeling her halting way through space
through time and back
testing them with her heart’s wet index finger raised
gauging their direction
still not sure

“How much weight?
how much?
Then it’s how long?
and how far?
And how many times …

before it’s too late?

Calling all angels. Calling all angels.”

she calls them daily
waiting politely
for them to respond
needing their hand
at her elbow
to move through

this dance
it seems to be more about collision
than moving with
she wants to be able
to slide through and between all those
molecules
atoms
but so far anyway
seems to be
more about crashing into them
to watch them fall around her
aching with the impact

she treads carefully
carrying that old record
like vinyl
inside her
playing and playing
nonstop
until she suddenly hears it
feels it
and calls for a sudden
shocked
Halt!
that’s not mine
she shouts only to herself
wretched in the discovery

how can that old record
still be playing
when it’s author has departed
who is playing that!?
she shouts again
Stop!
That’s not mine!

can’t I just be as clean
and clear
as I AM
as I came in
why must I run
this gauntlet

feeling like she must
prove herself
in some holy bloody way
to deserve her new skin
those muscles and nerves
doubts even the
Light
sometimes
because it gets too mingled
and contaminated by
the suit
to be able to separate

#1 define ‘walk-in’

Definition of a walk-in
A walk-in is a soul/essence/entity that has an agreement with a born-in to change places in a (usually adult) body.  A ‘born-in’ is the soul that originally came in when the physical body was born. The born-in inhabits the body around physical birth time and up until the walk-in takes its place.

Usually, there is a period of Earth time when the walk-in and the born-in take turns and may both be in the body off and on. This is to get both of them ready for the switch and to walk-in-soul3accustom the body to the new energy. The born-in will be traveling out of the body more than usual, giving the walk-in a chance to inhabit the body.

Now understand that this is not a possession. There is an agreement on a very high level between the born-in and walk-in. The agreement usually happens during the born-in’s time in the body and usually centers around the born-in not wanting to complete the lifetime. Instead of wasting a perfectly good body to suicide (in whatever form – it is quite possible to manifest one’s physical death without committing actual suicide), an agreement is made for the born-in to leave and the walk-in to take its place in the body. The walk-in usually comes in with a mission of some sort – usually of a rather high-leveled nature.

When looking back, one can usually see changes in behavior that began to take place at some point in the timeline of the person.  For instance, maybe seemingly out of the blue, that person begins to do research about spiritual matters, or begins to meditate, or begins to dress or talk differently. These changes may even begin to occur before the official, permanent switch. The personality may change – either radically or subtly.

Sending a walk-in into a body is usually an ‘intervention’ type of thing to do. However, know also, that the agreement between born-in and walk-in may take place before the born-in comes into the body. The walk-in possibility (or certainty) may be known by the born-in when it initially comes into the baby body.  It may have an agreement to come in and be physical for a time, knowing that the walk-in will take over at some point.

Also know that there can be more than one walk-in to inhabit the same body. Either at the same time or one after the other – in linear, Earth time. More than one walk-in is not common, but does happen.

The Physical Body

The human physical body has its own, unique consciousness separate from the soul-self. And a body can survive for some time – sometimes even years – without a soul inhabiting the body. It often will deteriorate b/c of not having a soul present to channel energy into it, but can limp along nonetheless for a while.  The soul normally provides the energy for the body to heal, operate smoothly, etc. – see it as the ‘electricity’ that powers the body’s systems.

When the body senses that the soul is leaving or wants to leave/die, it may start the death process for the physicality. So that even when the new soul is situated, it may continue to deteriorate. It is very important to communicate with the body and let it know that the new walk-in will be inhabiting and taking care of the body on an energy level. Bodies can try and ‘reject’ souls much like a body can reject an organ transplant. Signs of rejection or lack of acceptance may be aliments that begin after the walk-in comes in, such as:  food/chemical allergies and sensitivities, disease, illness, body degeneration in some form, malfunction of systems/organs.

Before the walk-in comes in fully, the adjustment period gives the body and new soul time to get accustomed to each other, however, the process is usually an ongoing one, even after the new soul is fully present on Earth in that body.  Some walk-ins and the relevant body may never fully adjust and may always have physical problems. Most of these cases are those of walk-ins who are not consciously aware of their walk-in status.

Because the new walk-in inherits the born-in’s memories (stored in cellular memory throughout the body), most walk-ins are not consciously aware of their walk-in status. But most walk-ins quickly begin to lose those early memories and have a difficult time recalling things that occurred before they walked in.

And because the walk-in is a new, different entity/soul than who used to be in the body, they will often make major changes in that life – simply b/c they have different tastes and preferences. This may affect lots of areas of the life. Examples:  divorce and breakups – b/c they are not attracted to the same souls as the born-in was and don’t have those connections with those souls.  A total change in taste and style as regards clothes, interior decoration of their home, food preferences, friends, activities, life style. They often change professions too.

So while being a walk-in is supposed to be a good thing, it can cause a lot of upheaval for those people and loved ones that were associated with the born-in.  Usually no one is consciously aware of the switch, so to loved-ones, this seems like a sudden, unexplained, bizarre change of behavior and personality that is often perceived as very negative. Family members and spouses are often left confused, angry, sad, etc. at the sudden changes. Many walk-ins split entirely from the former life/family and begin again, attracting those souls with whom they have connections from other times and places.

For some great basic info on walk-ins, read Ruth Montgomery’s books:  Strangers Among Us and Aliens Among Us.