ALL ABOUT NOTHING- THE ART OF REST
Updated: Nov 29, 2020
Ah, sweet rest. Doing nothing for a change.
Not very appreciated nowadays, appears as laziness, or that you are not(!!) a CEO.
My uterus, however, has different ideas about doing nothing. She loves that shit.
Unfortunately, I was a person who used to be quite on the active side, and so she needed to apply some hard measures, to stop the madness, and make me listen. AKA pain.
It’s not that doing was only bad for me. First, it is all about a balance between doing and not doing. Also, I was building and creating amazing shit. Art, weirdness, community. But the other half of my life consisted of doing shitty jobs, that I hated, and that exhausted me, and that kept me in poverty, which state kept the loop of exhaustion alive. And all along I lied to myself, that this is good enough for me, I might not be happy, but who is, I repressed my desire for everything that seemed out of reach financially and time- management wise. I told myself that those things are not for me anyway. I am an artist, I am supposed to suffer. And deeper down: I am a woman, so I am supposed to sacrifice and suffer.
Oh, wonderful cultural conditioning.
In all my terrible jobs, I showed up bleeding, took painkillers, or just pushed through the pain, and made myself function. It felt like violence, but I didn’t know back then, the terms of self-love, self-respect, and boundaries were not really part of my reality. A certain amount of violence was part of my reality. As it is for most of us on this planet, sadly enough. Even sadder is the fact, that some of that we don’t register anymore as actual violence, it is so normalized.
Then, bang! my sweet parts to the rescue. I clearly remember the day my uterus knocked on the door, stepped in and told me her story, and told me in no uncertain terms to stop the nonsense. She is worth it, she told me and I believe her.
It happened like this. I was waking up to terrible PMS cramps. And this time they were so strong that I couldn’t stand up, and pretend that they are not there. Thus, I was in my bed, and finally, finally, I listened. And bang, just like this, I believe that the very first time in my life I had a clear connection to my uterus. I was 32 at the time, mind you. Was running from the truth for quite a while. She told me she is in a lot of pain, very unhappy, and that she wants to change. Urgently.
And then I had a very clear vision in front of my inner eye. It was a memory coming back, a memory I completely blocked out. I was back in my childhood, I was with my mother. I must have been around 4 or 5. It was late evening, my mother was reading a bedtime story for me. My father, who was an alcoholic, lost, and sad person, came to the room and started to molest and touch my mother against her will. This is all I remember. He touches her, she not wanting it, but also not claiming her right to say NO, and me observing.
According to developmental psychology most of our mental patterns, which later form our habits, establish by the age of 8, we pick them up as kids, and then we just go on with life, acting them out. Over and over and over again. They sink down to the subconscious and take total control, till a person collects all their courage and strength and digs them up for transmutation. Nothing new, hard practice nevertheless.
I can only guess, but I think that night I just gained another piece that established my pattern of being powerless, especially as a woman. I just learned those horrible things happen in life against my will, partially to my physical body, partially to my spirit and soul, and I just have to go on, pretending that I find it normal.
And that it is ok.
And that I don’t deserve better.
With that pattern in place, one can only make poor choices, so that the outside reality confirms the inside reality, and the persona remains safe, not threatened by change, even though this safe spot of safety is very painful. Till one understands this mechanism, that is.
If my uterus doesn’t step in that day, I might just have lived out this status quo for the rest of my days. Thanks Goddess for the pain, that woke me up. With understanding the change WILL take place, regardless if I want the change or I choose to hold on out of sheer fear.
Well, long story short, soon after I had this encounter with my beautiful organ, all the shit that was present in my life and absolutely had no place in it whatsoever, started to fall away. It wasn’t nice, to say the least. I remember that the whole year was just tears and blood and pain. I finally gave up the job I hated and was not bringing me money, which is good, but I also lost my room, had nowhere to stay, and had to move all the time, I didn’t find yet the next way to make a living, without giving up my soul, I had a giant art project that I had to finish, I had a horrible heartbreak, I got myself into debt for all of the above reasons. In general, what started as a tête- a -tête with myself turned out to be a life-changing tsunami, that I am still not finished with or fully recovered from.
The lessons are priceless though, and I hope that one day I wake up, with a clear vision of what I exactly want, and that I know that it is in my power to make that vision happen. I am also hoping that my tits, pussy, and uterus have their happy ending, that I will have wonderful menstruations, that are easy, and still full of insight into who I am, and what are my next steps. I also hope that this shamanistic journey into my darkness will give me information that can help others in some form. Through my art, I assume.
However in the meantime I claim my right to do fucking nothing, take my time, so I can hear myself, and then have the time to act on the impulses that come to me in my nothingness. I take my time to build the healthy spiritual and mental base that I need when I go back to 'function'. I also know that the worst is over for me, and the transformation I was working on, and what was working on me, will bring its fruits very very soon.
Whatever those fruits look like.
My uterus and my pussy are safe with me, I don’t push myself and cancel all and everything if needed. Well, except when I shoot a movie or perform something very important. Sorry, dear Pussy, sorry dear Uterus, I am working on that bit as well.
And now here are some of the ways I do nothing, when I am exhausted, bleeding, and proudly non -functional.
1. Actually doing nothing. Sitting in my window-side chair, or as I call it THE CHAIR, stare out of the window, talking to my plants, Kali and Monica Belucci.
2. Doing the same but in a horizontal position on my bed. Obviously, I have warm water bottles available.
3. Reading weird astrological or esoteric info, trying to figure out how to read tarot, which phase the moon is in, when is the next Eclipse, and so on.
4. Watch cute cat videos-they are uplifting as fuck.
5. Watch movies but not on Netflix, cause I am better than everyone, but on my fancy channel for obscure movies.
6. Infused by those ideas come up with new ideas for my art, that I will one by one birth into reality, but not in a hurry. Currently, I am sitting on around 50 totally world changing art projects.
7.Masturbate. Well not recently, cause things were a bit too intense or dark for me to get horny or even slightly interested. In general, though orgasms are the only surefire way to kill cramps. And If it is an easier period, I am hypersensitive, so it doesn’t take much. In fact, the only way I can come multiple times is to have this sensitivity. But more about orgasms in another chapter.
8. Sleep. The mental fog I have makes processing any information twice as hard, and I have to take a nap, to relax. I also need a lot of sleep meanwhile I bleed, there is just so much going on in my body and heart.
9. Meditate. Big one. I literally just have to close my eyes and amazing deep, transformational information comes to me. I didn’t figure out yet how to exactly use it in my everyday life, but those trips in the other dimensions are deeply healing.
I wish for all people that crave nothing to be able to do nothing.
And for those who crave the action, to be able to perform that action in agreement with their bodies.
Sending love to all those that are exhausted.