, , , , , , , , , ,

You’ve gone to school, gotten your degree, retrained and relocated, gotten that certificate, had the requisite midlife crisis, shed a few skins, and pointed yourself in the right direction. But you find yourself in the years of being un-sure what you are now. You’re in the goo phase. Recently, I’ve heard this described as ‘before you become a butterfly, after you’ve been a caterpillar, you are in your chrysalis sack, and you become this amorphous goo.’ Neither one, nor the other. Hopefully you reach butterfly status before you’re lost entirely. But you feel lost. Very.

You get mentors, and you look for signs. You give up the idea that you should know without doubt. You trust, in other words, that sometime, you will be shown, or taught, what you need to know to become what will best serve the world and support yourself, in all your unique glory.

So what if none of your mentors are doing what you want to be doing? What if you’re doing the best you can to create your own thing, and having trouble really seeing what, exactly, that is, and your mentors keep trying to help, and handing you tools, but they are not really doing exactly what you need to be doing (if you even knew what that would be)? You have no template. You’re somewhere in the ballpark.

My mentors, and I love them all, and they are the most generous, talented people I know, with the most game I can find in my field just now…my mentors are somewhat right about where to point me. And somewhat off the mark.

Because what I HAVE to do on this planet has not exactly been synthesized, yet. It’s been INVENTED, don’t get me wrong. There is nothing new in the multi-verse. We’re just discovering and uncovering it. But my particular combination, and manifestation, hasn’t yet been established; the groove has not been worn into a teachable record.

I am (and the world is) discovering what exactly I’m “supposed to be up to” in real time. [Let’s not debate the phrase ‘real time’, you get the point.] The locality, Los Angeles, and the earth at large, and the horoscopes and the zeitgeist, and the invisible forces–they are all aligning differently than in previous epochs in memory…so. I feel the pressure of wielding my particular talents–I mean the private fraction that no one can teach me, where I just KNOW I’m supposed to create a baseball diamond out of the corn field. They keep telling me this KNOWING is already in me.

My shaman teacher is handing me toys I have little curiosity to use. They are powerful, useful tools, but they are not my final tools. My energy coach is working with incredible powers to shift individuals, writing books and working with groups. I’m not to follow that line without my unique mojo more “in place” (i.e. more rigorous training–but in what?). The mentors I have in Rolfing SI, where my certificate is, are all remarkable cosmic shapeshifters, and yet, I feel I have to step out of that snake skin and walk on. I keep calling in the next mentor with my soul and mind’s eye, but she or he has not yet appeared. Using skills I already have, at the level I have already maintained, is losing its shine. Even my own guides and angels keep saying, “You don’t need to know (your next move) right now. We’re working on it.” Sometimes I think they lost my Contract.

“What is in-between the [metaphoric] house you live in, and the house you want to live in?” my friend asks me the other day. “A big, muddy kailyard full of rotting vegetation and chickens,” I answer. “So that sounds like a great compost heap,” she says enthusiastically. “Rich, thick bits of slop and organic matter–that’s black gold! Next year, you can use that to fertilize some awesome stuff!”

What do you do, while you’re waiting for yourself to rot and congeal? I’ve decided transcribing my journals from my great big adventure/midlife crisis is the only solid thing to focus on. I hope that fertilizer is ripe by now. Nothing more to say. Just…goo.