The Opposite of Disappointment is Satisfaction

sacral chakra

 

My heart and my mind are ruled by disappointment. I did not know this until a few day ago, but now that I do I feel a spiritual resurrection inside my body.

I must begin when I was the age 30 years old.  I had a dream where I entered a halfway house and the whole room was wall to wall orange. All the furniture was a glowing 70’s orange and I heard on the radio a chorus of 1000’s of angels. Then I woke up.

In reality, the halfway house was called The House of Hope and I was actually trying to be accepted there due to my heavy alcoholism and the fact that I had lost everything. In such places that offer treatment and a place to live, a person must call daily to prove that they are committed to the program. And I called everyday. But there were no beds.

After a few days, I decided to walk in and personally meet the staff. Before I left, I turned to my friend and said I just want to see if it is orange. When I walked up to the gate, much to my surprise, two orange chairs were placed on the sidewalk outside the gate to give to the poor. For some people this may mean nothing, but it was the first bit of hope I had felt in many years.

Of course, the years passed and I always wondered if the color orange meant God or was it just a coincidence. I could not shake this question and the question continued to be unanswered. However, the other day I came across a post about chakras and I googled which chakra represented the color orange. It was the Sacral Chakra and this information delighted me while it never really gave me any answers.

The next night, my son could not sleep and I laid awake for most of the night: thinking and thinking as all good insomniacs do.

I began thinking about my mom and I realized I am not angry with her. I accept her for who she is. But I was extremely disappointed. I was disappointed that she left me at a young age. I was disappointed at the cruel actions she had taken against me over the years. And especially, I was disappointed that when I needed her most, she failed me and never apologized.

But it went further than that. I was disappointed that most of my family was deceased due to their own choices.  I was disappointed at friends who hurt me. I was disappointed at the way the country is in a  civil war over politics. I could go on and on.

However, what was important was the question of how I dealt with being disappointed.  The answer was that I did not deal with it. I shut down. I would never let it show I was hurt. There was my wall! I had always wondered what my wall was exactly. I knew I had walls but I did not know what they were on any deep level.

So what happens when I repress my feelings? Overtime they begin to manifest somewhere else. Additionally, when I feel I have disappointed someone else I become triggered and spin out of  control believing the person I disappointed feels as hurt as I do about even the slightest issue. This feeling of guilt also remains in my body.

And for once in my life, I felt all the repression being released from my body due to this awareness. Lightness began to encapsulate my soul at 3am in the morning. I felt relieved and grateful and I felt hope and love.

Of course I had no idea how to change this pattern that was so ingrained in me after all these years. I thought about calling up all the people that  disappointed in some way, even if it was 25 years ago. That did not seem wise. I prayed God may remove this defect of character. I wondered if I just started being truthful when I was disappointed from this point on, my life would improve. I truly had no idea.

So….I looked up what chakra held disappointment. And there it was. The Orange Sacral Chakra. I couldn’t believe it. And my thoughts drifted back to how my repression manifested in my body. It did not take long to realize at my Sacral chakra line I have had three back surgeries, two hip replacements, a hysterectomy and a c-section. Hmmm. That seemed pretty significant.

Now I understood that disappointment made me stuck. But what was the opposite of disappointment? I really didn’t know. The answer was satisfaction. This idea of “satisfaction” was quite foreign to me. I always perceived things as going wrong. Go figure! My disappointment also contributed to feeling majorly depressed and  becoming extreme anxious.

The unhealthy way to deal with it was addiction and not taking care of one’s self. BUT the way to satisfaction was self care and being rooted in creativity. I was pretty sure I can do that if I wanted to feel what satisfaction brings.

So I am writing this blog on this holy day, thinking about the color orange and God and how I can be creative and decided to share it with the world. The only way to be true to one self is through exposing my brokeness.  And I plan on aligning with my truth any way I can.

Thank you for reading.

God is Orange

orange chair

I threw myself into alcohol oblivion while going to different bars hoping no one would recognize me from other bars in town. I was living with my best friend’s mom and she was nice enough to take me in and help me detox and provide much love that I desperately needed. She was a Eucharistic Minister that attended church everyday who was serving God by helping me. And it felt wonderful to be around someone who was not toxic but only held great concern for me.

It was the next day at her house that the truth about my alcoholism became utterly apparent. And one would think  that after the detox, the shakes, the sounds, the voices,the chills, sleepless nights and countless cigarettes that I would never dare touch the stuff again. But it didn’t take long for me to relapse and I started right where I left off; wanting to die.

I knew of one place I could go to get help but I thought I was better than those women. They were criminals and prostitutes with their kids taken away. I could not get help with this sort of foul-natured types. I was from Thousand Oaks. I was upper middle class and I was not about to go.

Jose, a busboy from work confronted me one day. “I saw you running in your car today.””Running?” I thought to myself. I had no clue what he was talking about. “I spoke to the Holy Spirit today and he said you are not one the right path. That God has other plans for you.” This was not what I wanted to hear.

Yet he was right, entries from my journal begged for death from this torturous life I was living. I could not see any way out. It was just a matter of time before I would end it.

A few nights later, I dreamed that I walked into “The House of Hope.” This was the place where the criminals roamed and the prostitutes taunted. But I walked in and the entire room was decorated with orange furniture with barely any room to actually move.

A woman asked, ” What do you want?” I answered in a soft voice that I was looking for the House of Hope. “You got insurance?” she asked. “No, I will go.” I said. “Now wait a minute I will be right back.”She shuffled through the orange furniture until she found her way out. All I could hear as she walked off was something extremely foreign to my ears.

When she left I noticed a radio. But what played from it seemed unfamiliar. It was like a thousand angels singing at once. Music so beautiful, I became mesmerized and I completely forgot the orange room with the firm lady and why I was even there in the first place. It was the loveliest sound I had ever heard in all of my life. No instruments, only acapella. And voices sung from the end of time out of the speakers of this old rusty radio that radiated the unconditional love that we all search for.

Then I woke up.

I could not shake this orange room dream. It was like no other. And for the next few nights when I woke up I felt like someone was holding me in my bed. But I was alone. Things were not making sense.

My best friend’s mom became aware I had relapsed. The feeling in the house grew cold.When I fist moved in all doors were open throughout the house and now they were closed. I was making the mom sick with stress. No one wants an active alcoholic in their home. Yet I had nowhere to go.

She finally confronted me one morning after I had a night where I blacked out and made a terrible mess in her home. I did not deny anything. But I was not about to go through withdrawals again without  being under the care of a doctor.

I was  accepted in the hospital and I shook and I sweat and I was scared and I was ashamed. The doctor gave me some Valium but when I went to sleep I dreamed of some snake man pushing me into a smelly swamp of serpents. “Is this where you want to be?” The Snake Man screamed. “Is this what you want?”

I actually woke up and I was sure that the doctor had given me LSD. But this was good old fashioned delirium tremens. Like many before me, I was experiencing hell on earth.

When I was finally released from the hospital I was pretty ecstatic. I had no cravings for alcohol and I was willing to do what it takes. I told my best friend’s mom that I was not going to call the House of Hope, I wanted to see it with my own eyes. I just want to see if it is orange.

Down into the barrio I went. The streets of San Pedro shared great violence among its residents. But I had nowhere to go. And as I pulled up in front of this halfway house/rehab I could not help but notice two of the brightest orange chairs sitting outside the gate waiting as if to say hello. ORANGE. No doubt about it. Flawless beautiful orange.

And I was home.