Writing is another facet of how I love to express creativity.
I have been writing for many years as a tool to help me tap into my intuition and explore my subconscious mind.
Writing has helped me to trust my inner guidance and strengthens the connection to my Higher Self. This is where creativity, inspiration, and ideas flow.
|Posted on February 7, 2021 at 9:55 AM|
Every time I feel I want to be true to myself I naturally start to recall things about myself as a child that I enjoyed. Nature, creativity, being of service.
I’m watching my sweet innocent and perfect niece go through what I went through/what we all went through with experiencing a world that doesn’t accept who she is. My sweet angel is transforming before my eyes and she is doing it for the approval of the society she is in. Just like I did. Just like most of us. I am watching her create a mask for herself. The mask that this world will accept. It breaks my heart if I am honest. Watching the most perfect human I ever met begin to doubt who she is. It hurts cause I have been there. It hurts cause I remember exactly how it feels to be so lost and willing to change anything about yourself for the approval of others. I just want to scream FUCK the WORLD to her.
I know better.
She is me and I is she.
Just like me she will wake up one day, maybe in 5 years, maybe in 500 but someday she will remember her divine nature. In the meantime I am going in hard and heavy with the love for her and will be encouraging her to TRUST who she is every single step of the way.
Since my early 20’s I began recalling past lives of mine through dreams, meditations, hypnotherapy and experiences. One of the many things these lives have taught me is that I am NOT Frankey Craig born in Kent, UK. Frankey Craig is who I am expressing in this life. It has helped me to detach from many of the stories I have about Frankey. I have plenty of them, don’t get me wrong but I know that they are not who I am and they are certainly only the tip of the iceberg.
The knowledge of some of my lives has allowed me to see life as a school. Each time I am incarnating I have lessons to learn and teach and I have purpose. The journey is all about finding them.
I used to struggle with labelling what I do for a living because I am multifaceted and am not bound to only one area of interest or skill. I used to fall in the trap of trying to fit myself in a box, just to make people comfortable. I know labels and descriptions all have their place but I always feel that once you label me you negate me (once you label me you negate me was a Kaypacha mantra I sang for a year). If I allow you to label me, I am now limited to only being that for you. I settled on Creative Channel as my job description. I allow people to explore what that means to them.
When people ask me to tell them about myself I always want to break into chorus Meredith Brooks
”I’m a bitch
I’m a lover
I’m a child
I’m a mother
I’m a sinner
I’m a saint
And I do not feel ashamed
I’m your hell
I’m your dream
I’m nothing in between
You know you wouldn’t want it any other way”
Young Frankey loved nature, animals, creativity and being of service.
As I was growing up I loved our family holidays in the West Country of England. We always had to drive past Stonehenge to get to our holiday destination. Down in this part of England was where I could find crystals and fantasy art.
In the west country I felt surrounded by everything important to me. I later learnt that Stonehenge/Glastonbury is the Heart Chakra of the Earth and I believe that. This place has always opened my heart.
I spent many years in the British countryside. I used to care for and ride horses. I loved being on a farm or in a stable environment with the fresh air, lush green landscapes and all the animals.
Oh man. I always adored animals. They bring me such joy, healing and comfort. I am not sure how I would cope without animals in my life. Their unconditional love is a gift.
I recall making miniature gardens. My mum would give me a tray and I would get mud, pebbles, flowers, grass, twigs, or whatever I could find to create my own little gardens.
I remember having a big grassy field outside the front of our house and in the summer I would love it when the grass got cut so that I could make FLOWER PIES! This was basically a mound I would build from the grass and then I would decorate it with flowers.
I also remember making my own perfumes. I would collect the flowers, mix them in water and leave it in the sun. I would then transfer into little bottles.
I remember how connected I felt to everything as a child. Nature was where I belonged.
Apparently, after my first day of school my mother asked me how my day was and my reply was something like ‘’it was good but I don’t want to go back’’. This pretty much sums up my entire schooling experience.
The first two years of school were OK and then I got held back a year because the school decided that my birthday made me the youngest of my year. It was like starting school all over again. Now I was the oldest of my year and I never fitted with the rest of them. I believe I would have had an easier time in school if they had not done that to me.
To top things off I went to Catholic Schools. They were the best ones around. Apparently.
Slowly but surely, bit by bit, with every year of school I lost more of myself.
What I was learning quite quickly was how unacceptable Frankey was and all the things that I needed to change about myself.
My primary school had a Nun that was pure evil. Even to this day I can’t imagine what that woman was doing there. She hit kids, shamed them and I can even recall her smile making me feel uncomfortable. She did not have a kind bone in her body. I knew she was friends with the local priest and they scared the crap out of me. I was so afraid of them.
Then there were the priests. I am fairly certain every priest that worked at our parish was a pedophile and by the time I went into secondary school, my first year even the Head Teacher was removed for being a pedophile. He had been teaching for 20 years and had a family of 5.
Some of the teachers in secondary school were pedophiles too. I was never molested but I know people that were.
This environment was sick for me and I had to be in it every day. Saying prayers with these unwell people and them telling me that I was born a sinner. I was not perfect. I was completely unacceptable.
Nobody ever concentrated on my gifts, so I never did either and because I did not fit in their box I was marked as an average person.
I remember becoming aware of my body in secondary school. 13 years old, hormones and all. As if the hormones aren't enough, the kids were cruel. I became more and more uncomfortable in my own skin.
I reached my breaking point around age 14 and I started to rebel against all of this bullshit. I felt so fucking ugly and unacceptable that I became a bit like a little wild rabid animal. I was so hurt. I was so angry with absolutely everyone.
This is where my mask gets put on and stays on for a long time. You know the mask that you have to wear so that you are more acceptable to this world? Do you know that mask? It's the mask that hides all of your feelings, all of your boundaries, all of your needs, all of your passions, all of your intuition, all of your natural free spirit.
I took the rebel position in my mask. It may as well have had ‘’fuck you’’ written on the front because thats what I felt. I lost the will to even try and please anyone. I became cynical, bitter, judgemental, superior to everyone else and I stopped caring. This was a very painful downward spiral.
Seriously, it wasn't until around age 24 that I began to realize I am still wearing that mask. It had become protection. I had forgotten that I had even put it on. I thought that mask was me.
I had to make a choice to take the mask off. Leave the blanket of protection and pull down all the walls I had built that hid my true face.
The mask is the ego. It's the story I have identified with.
Over many years now, I have been on a journey of remembrance. Even now, I am still deconstructing the stories and undoing the conditioning I received. Writing helps!
I will be 40 this year and I am still on the journey of remembering my essence, my divine nature and honoring the I AM that I AM.
In an ayahuasca vision, I saw everyone in my life that I ever met leave a handprint on me. Everyone touched me even if I didn't speak to them. All imprinting me with their beliefs about what I am meant to be. I was shown all the hands taken off me and I could see the purity of who I AM. I keep this vision in my heart. It was powerful to experience and a metaphor for what is happening to me. I am on the journey of unbecoming. I am removing all the hands/the beliefs that are not mine.
Recently I had an experience of being able to see the anger I was carrying from a different perspective. As I moved into the feeling I began to realize that the root of it was not about the situation/person or injustice. It was the anger of being separated from my authentic self. And, even deeper, the original separation from Source as I was taught a lie that I am not divine.
I sat with this anger in present moment awareness and found myself in an empty space. Everything I was mad about sat on a chair and we all sat in this space together. From this space and perspective I could see everything I was angry about with no emotion or judgement. I simply sat with it all. After a while I saw these things are a part of my journey but they are not who I am, they are just a storey. They are things that have happened but they are not happening in the NOW.
So at present, I am in the NOW! This whole year has been dedicated to presence for me. I am reinforcing my foundations and taking responsibility for my level of awareness every day. This is a strong, grounded place to stand from and anchor in higher consciousness. I am not ascending. I am descending. I’m not here to live on a mountain and meditate all day in the ethers. I am here to bring that wisdom and energy down from the mountain into every day, moment to moment life.
The ride is wild and full of surprises. I am grateful for all of it.
A past life of mine became more and more real over the years.
It started with a psychic art drawing done for me in England. It was of a Native American girl with blue eyes. I never got much information with the artwork but I always paid attention to it because the same artist literally did a spot on image of my grandfather in spirit.
Years after receiving the artwork I was meditating one day, feeling very still and present when all of a sudden I got flooded with a visual and information about myself as a Native American girl.
Now, brace yourself cause this isn’t a fairytale life. It was real and had a lot of pain. I have had many years to integrate this before I talked about it or even attempted to write about it.
What I saw was me living with a tribe in the mountains of North Carolina. My mother had been raped by white men and that's why my eyes were blue. The people in my village made me their own and some of them did not. The hatred for white men was building as our lands were being invaded more and more. We watched our traditions and sacred spaces being destroyed.
The pattern repeated itself as I was raped by the white men too, just like my mother.
The next part was difficult to digest.
I became pregnant from that rape and when I saw that child with blue eyes I completely freaked out. I had so much hate for the white people, I couldn't look at this child. Nobody in my village would accept it at this point. I threw the child from a cliff in the mountains.
I cried my eyes out, almost threw up and I came out that meditation like WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?! I didn’t want to put any energy into it and at the same time I knew there was truth.
Years later, I found myself living in the foothills of the mountains in North Carolina, a long way from Kent, UK.
One day I was looking at the blue ridge mountains skyline in admiration and I suddenly remembered that what I was looking at was where I lived in my Native American past life. It occurred to me that I could have been standing in the exact spot I was in hundreds of years ago….
I then began a journey of learning American history and researching sacred sites in the USA. It's been like going down a rabbit hole! The history I have learnt now compared to what is taught at school is quite different.
Over the years I came to realize that the worst thing the white men took from me was my consciousness, my awareness, my connection. It's the worst because that was not their fault. I gave it to them. They simply played their part and I lowered my vibration to meet hate with hate. Judgement with more judgement and I was willing to kill my blood for it. It got me trapped in a cycle for thousands of years.
I literally had to incarnate as a white woman with blue eyes, with this past life knowledge to be able to let go of the hatred that energetically stayed with me. Like a rip in my soul.
So, the whole point of my storey I am sharing is to be mindful about the traps we can all easily fall into that lower our vibration to match that which we detest. Two wrongs don’t make a right. Fighting hate with hate only creates perpetual war.
My positive energy MUST be stronger than any negative energy I encounter. This requires me to live a mindful life. To be Present. To be Here. To be in the NOW. This allows for a stronger connection to a higher part of myself that is not so easily distracted by the energies. Less likely to get caught in cycles. More inclined to stand in my power.
Honestly, I don’t want to get stuck in any more cycles!!!!! I was really hoping this would be my last incarnation on earth! LOL! Not sure how successful I’ve been at that, however, it won’t stop me from inviting more presence so that I may respond to life authentically and to move forward without creating more karma (if that's possible).
Post a Comment
The words you entered did not match the given text. Please try again.
Oops, you forgot something.