I’m coming up short on finding things to entertain myself with these days.  Netflix, Amazon Prime, YouTube….all feel less and less satisfying.  I relate less and less to it all, not only as a woman, but also as a human.

I do enjoy the production value of the movies or t.v. shows.  I can appreciate the creative aspects, the cinematography, the music, the talent and chemistry of the actors.  But most of the story lines, not so much anymore.

I seem to like documentaries or films based on real life stories.  But I have run through most of them already.

It’s unsettling because I have relied on some form of entertainment now for a very long time.  But the media can go only as far as the consciousness goes.  It tries at times to push farther, but it can’t reflect where I am, where many of us are at right now.  We can’t expect it to.

WHY STAY?

Once we awaken to the point where the reality called 3D doesn’t beckon us like before, why even stay here?

We can try to come up with some seemingly viable answers, like we stay for our kids (those who have kids), or our friends. (Those who still have some.)  Nature, (meh.  I could always come back here and infuse my soul into a butterfly, a squirrel, or a dolphin for awhile).  For humanity.

O.k. maybe for humanity, to be a standard of a balanced, self-loving human who has embodied their Christ consciousness.  But even that wears thin.

Are we staying for ourselves?  To fulfill our soul’s dream to walk this planet as an awakened human, as a human who no longer needs to depend on others for their joy, and who can enjoy the sensual nature of this reality as a sovereign and self-loving human?  A human who is no longer burdened by karma?  A human who no longer carries around their wounds?

It’s never been done before like this.  This is brand new.  It’s really kind of exciting!

But there are no manuals.  There is no report card to see how we are doing, other than how we feel.  There are no guideposts or a five-year plan.

We find ourselves being more and more in the moment.  And are being asked to trust that moment will deliver to us just what we need.

From the outside looking in, it looks a little crazy.  At times we feel like we are treading water, and at times like we are not moving at all.

We feel like we have made amazing inner shifts, but our outer life doesn’t seem to reflect it.  At least not yet.  And maybe not to the extent we feel it should by now.

It can be discouraging as hell.  Whose idea was this, anyway?

Oh, wait.  It was ours.  Can’t even blame it on god, or an Alien race.  We are all from various planets and star systems, even if we have lived over a thousand lifetimes here on Planet Earth.  So we can’t blame the Orions or the Archturians or the Pleideans.

Damn this awakening.  It ruins everything!

I for one had a nice, tidy little life going for me.  I had a nice, reliable relationship, complete with an extended family to go with it.  My time was structured.  I knew where to be every day.

There was lots of activity, some fun times.  And lots of drama.

THE APARTMENT

In fact, back then I had a new apartment I could have hung out at more often.  But every morning when I woke up  I opted to go to his place.  It was addictive.  I knew what to expect.  I at least belonged somewhere.  Even if that somewhere was in a pretty bad, karmic relationship.

Back then, that nice, new, quiet apartment felt to me empty and lonely.  Kind of how I was feeling inside.

And of course I jest.  I would never go back to being asleep, even if I could.  I couldn’t go back to forgetting who I am, and to being mired in karmic relationships.  Or the anxiety of wondering how I could possibly survive losing those who I became so dependent upon.

What if I had to go to that empty apartment?

As it turns out, I did.  He died, and I was a shell of a woman for awhile.  I had to go back to the apartment and be with all of the emotions I was trying to dismiss for so very long.

And over time I came to love that apartment.  It was no longer empty.  I filled it up with my art, my music, some friends.  And most of all my spirit.

But over the past couple of years, I have taken down most of the art.  I no longer produce music.  I never have anyone over.  The place looks pretty stripped down.

On an inner level, I’ve been slowly dismantling my old story.  I’ve been letting go of my old passions.  It feels like I am getting ready to move, to relocate, but I have no clue where that would be.

The apartment is comfortable enough, but it feels like the comfort I get now is more from me.  And thoughout my years there my radiance has transformed the place, especially my part of the building and surroundings outside.

Over the years I had some pretty rowdy neighbors.  Loud parties, loud arguments between mates, lots of stomping around.  For quite a long time I could hear the conversations of a neighbor on the other side of my bedroom wall.  I knew way too many intimate details of his breakup listening to those long angry phone conversations that went into the wee hours.

Apparently, according to him, she just didn’t understand him.  Right.

But I’m sure that was all a reflection of where I was at, as I was dealing with all the turbulent emotions, including my own anger.

I notice my neighbors are far more quiet these days.  In fact living there feels like it did when I first moved in. The apartment complex was brand new when I first signed the lease, so I was one of the first tenants to move into a multi-tenant building that was virtually empty.  I had the whole building to myself.  It was quiet.  Peaceful.

Yet now, almost twenty years later every apartment in the building is occupied.  And it is quiet and peaceful again.

So it feels like yes, I am still there.  I do love being there.  Yet I have no desire to redecorate the place.  It’s an odd feeling.  Because it’s not depression, like I don’t care about my surroundings anymore.  But it’s like I am in transition.  Yet I have no place to go in my sights.

It’s a strange feeling.  Not a bad one, though.  It’s just different.  Meanwhile, I just signed up for Hulu.  Maybe I’ll give Desperate Housewives another go.