Category Archives: Seventh-day Adventist Church

Blending Experiences

Yesterday I did the Hecates ceremony and a tarot reading with a few simple questions with powerful results.

Before the Hecates ceremony I caught myself in a religious state I hadn’t experienced in a long time… But the emotion was strong and intense. Whenever I prayed to God as a Seventh-day Adventist Id always end up acknowledging my flaws and inadequacies before approaching the throne of the lord, since pride is not acceptable, as it was Satans downfall. Confession is a huge part of it too, and the feeling of forgiveness helped me to feel acknowledged and connected in my religious worship and prayers. 

Coming before Hecates I noticed that same process occurring…

“What if I’m not good enough? What if I’m not worthy? It needs to be perfect so which ceremony should I go for?”

That’s when I realized she’s not God, she’s a goddess, and because of what Hecates symbolizes, I can come before her strong in who I am because she’ll accept me as a woman at the very least. I’ve been on the right path for a while, and Hecates will show me the way, since that’s why I’m coming before her in the first place. I don’t need to feel pervasive insecurity in who I am before her, and as a goddess of power, she calls me to find ways to lock on to it. 


As I did the ceremony I was surprised how grounded I was, and the expansion of the heart chakra. My crown chakra is always on overdrive when I dip into a spiritual place and yawn profusely, even though I’m not tired. Certain reading material do the same, as my healing hands book from the library does. I felt more whole, centered, calm, and deeply relaxed in my practice, and it was a sensational novelty to both create and take part of. 

After a while I took a break and did my own thing for a bit… Made the psychic tea and it was pretty tasty, though I was disappointed it wasn’t spicier. It said it had peppermint and cayenne in it, but I didn’t experience much of that. 

With time nearing midnight and needing to go to bed so I can wake up in the morning, I asked The Goddess to guide my tarot reading, and the results I got were as follows:

What is one thing I can grow through for the next few weeks:

Upside down King of swords:

Represents someone who is overly regimented and militants in their routines. They’re harsh in their judgements of others, and of anyone who does not fit into their stereotypes. Could be accused of having a narrow outlook on life, without room for accepting new people, ideas, and new situations. Key factors of this card are intolerance and narrow-mindedness. 

Should I get involved in Politics?

King of Pentacles:

Successful and powerful with a great sense of responsibility towards family, friends, career, and community. Often successful because they have someone to provide for. This driving force is a motivator towards success, and achievement is measured through the security of family and views of oneself through important relationships in their life. Does not come across as overly confident. 

Should I become an energy healer (2 cards)

Heirophant: need to seek professional advice; alternatively any ritualistic service that is performed should have the appropriate spiritual leader.

Upside down Wheel of Fortune:

Although you may have had a run of bad luck in your past, things are changing and your life will soon take a turn for the better. Everything is on the way up and now it is time to enjoy the positive changes coming your direction. 

Should I consider selling adult toys through intamacy tickles, and will it be profitable? (2 cards)

10 of Wands for selling:

You have a lot of stresses, strains, and responsibilities, but you are quite capable of handling them so don’t worry too much. 

2 of Pentacles for finance:

You need to keep the balancing act up for a bit longer. Don’t make any decisions to drop any one aspect of your life just yet; you will need more information before making that choice. 

*personal reflection on the meaning and value of those answers to come later as I haven’t worked through it all yet, but I get the gist of it.

From there I called it a night and thanked the goddess for our reading and results. 


I had a dream that when I woke up from, I realized I’d ad multiple dreams like this in the past. Although it’s sexual, I’ll post it because there is something deep and profound in repetitious dreams, but I’ve never really bothered to assess one like this, as I did in the dreams where I’m drowning. The dream, though blended in details because of its repetition, follows to the best of my understanding like this:

First I’m in a house. Men keep running in, one at a time, trying to steal an object and leave; as one theif was done and leave, another one would soon enter. I’m trying to stop them in multiple ways – screaming at the top of my lungs so my brother would hear, setting up traps, chasing them, fighting them, but nothing seems to be effective. The more I fight to defend, the bigger and grander the house gets. 

The house is now a mansion, It’s “Christian” mansion from 50 shades of grey, but for some reason Christian is played by Liam Needon, so he’s a lot older than he should be but a great voice! Anyway, one loser busts in the house and I fake being injured and holding a secret blade in case he comes near, and I’m screaming until someone else hears me and arrests the guy. The last theif I fought was one I used seduction to stop him. He had tattered and dirty clothing, teeth were rotting and a few were missing, but he was younger than me by 2 years and I could tell he was looking for money for drugs. I managed to lure him to the couch and grind on top of him. I refused any real sex or oral because he stunk of sweaty balls (vomits). That’s when Liam Neeson comes down the stairs and see’s me! Finally, someone who could help me stop him. I quickly blurt out he was a theif and this was the only way to stop him until someone would help, and Liam glares and the theif. Then, for whatever reason, the words out of his mouth was that famous one liner.. I will find you, and when I do, I will get you.. Or something like that. 


I use to have sex fantasies like that all the time… me seducing men or women. Particularly its a theme of me seducing someone who has power over me to either protect myself or try and get my wants and needs met, and enjoying not only the sexual thrill, but the feeling of control, leaving them weak and helpless. My very fist sexual fantasy was something like that too… I was a government spy trying to get information out of a certain historical figure I was learning about in 4th grade. I dressed in one of those “I dream of geanie” outfits as a disguise and… Well… I got my information to say the least. 

I’m sure the meaning of these dreams is staring me dead in the face but I still need it decoded. It has to be more than just taking power away from someone. 

Blah… Long ass blog. I’m sitting at the coffee shop blogging all this. This morning I don’t know if I should feel proud or ashamed of myself for handling something between me and Kylie the way I did, but she left 2 weeks worth of trash for me to take care of and out agreement was that she’d start helping with dishes. 

“Hey Kylie, what’s the situation with the dishes?”

“Umm, what do you mean? I have dishes and plastic in my room that I wash and take care of?”

“Yeah, that wasn’t our agreement. You were doing that anyway.”

“Okay, well I guess it goes back to how things were.”

“Sounds good.”

The agreement was that rather than buying plastics and stuff she’d go back to doing dishes and helping out since I’m helping her take trash to the curb because “she can’t do it by herself”, but two weeks ago she did exactly that – she took all of it out. As a result, I only took out half the trash instead of all of it since she didn’t help with any of the dishes at all, and was simply using me. 

Of course, the tarot card I pulled falls in line with this as being militant and controlling, but I have to consider my own needs. I refuse to overload myself with work, or allow myself to be taken advantage of. I know this points back to living with mom and feeling like my sense of purpose and value in the household and as a woman was trying to clean and raise her kids, and homeschool them, but healthy boundaries requires balance of what I will allow myself to take on and be responsible for. Where it’s obvious she never had any intention on helping me, and I already clean up after her when she spills something on the stove or uses the restroom, I refuse to be her thankless nanny or mother. Where she’s constantly looking to feel enabled, I won’t be doing it. Do I feel guilty for what happened? Profoundly and immensely on an unhealthy level I do – but I didn’t attack her or anything, I just asked a simple question and she had the same idea I had. Im protecting myself, and even did it in person instead of through text as she requested, despite how obviously uncomfortable it made her. I need to come to terms with my power and find the balance without shame or fear. This sucks, and I really hate it. 

*sigh* why does being me have to be so complicated. I wish someone would just give me the solution to the problem on that one – am I doing the right thing, and how do I know so I don’t have to harbor these feelings of intensity and insecurity for putting my foot down. I could attempt to take pride in myself for doing what I did, but I don’t know if I should or why, allowing Kylies problems to be her own instead of bearing the burden of interaction between us. >.>’ fucking hell. I should not be this tense and panicked before work. I need to find a way to decompress. 

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Spiritually in Tune

Learning about psychic abilities, I’m amazed how so many forms of spirituality point back to the law of attraction and being in touch with the universe/universal mind. I need to continue practicing the law of attraction of enhance my craft and my being. 

Reading the book it talked about clairaudience – the ability to hear a voice that moves you in the right direction. It reminded me of one of the few spiritual experiences I’ve never been able to shake. I had just come back from my first ever prayer retreat for youth, and when I returned home I was unable to find something. Where my grandmother brought me home I figured it must have fallen out in her car, so I asked for her keys and looked.

I opened the door to her Pontiac sunfire and dug around the front seats first – nothing. She keeps her car spotless. Then I slid the driver seat forward and got back in my knees and checked. My ears were almost against the floor of the backseat of the car when I heard it… It was a choior of voices singing together in unison. There was no words. I would describe it as something close to Sancte Deus by the Thomas Tallis Schollars, but of course that’s in Latin. What I heard as a teen could have very well been in Latin, but I wouldn’t have been able to identify it. I kneeled there in awe listening for a good 12 seconds at least, and when I picked my head back up its as if my consciousness altered to a state of alertness since I was now looking for those voices, feeling certain I was mistaken, but when I put my head back down I heard those same voices rapidly fading. I never heard anything like that in my life, and I never heard it again. At the time I called it Angels… Now? I wouldn’t know what to call them since Angels are a highly judeo-Christian concept, just like Satan. Although there are some traces back to universal energy such as the Holy Spirit, the rigidity of the bible bothers my moral values system too much to allow it back into my life. The level of sexism, homophobia, slavery, and so on kills me – not to mention that the God of the bible is incredibly two-faced. I can’t tell if it has multiple personality disorder or was going through his own spiritual journey and was using human beings as the ultimate experiment in twisted humor. 

*sigh*

The funny thing is I’ve kept so many of my prayer journals from when I was a kid that I should probably pick one up and use it as a way back into who I was as a teen. I couldn’t throw them way because my mother would take them and read them if she found them, and of course my dad stole my diary. Nothing was kept sacred. It’s the one thing I need to teach my son is that his life is sacred, his body is sacred, his space is sacred, and the same is true for others. Treat life & people as sacred… If he can. If we can. If I can. 

Back to reading…

On Holy Ground


I remember a ceremony we use to do in the church called on holy ground, and is perhaps the basis of community healing and narritive therapy that I know. There was a blanket Miss Elizabeth would provide, and everyone would sit around the blanket, tucked into its warmth and security… Then slowly… One by one… People would come forward into the middle of the blanket to confess what’s on their heart, and ask God to be made new again. Everyone would lay their hands on them, and pray for that person based on how they believe the Holy Spirit moved them to do so. 

I miss this practice. I want a tapestry to create my own sacred space… Rather than on holy ground it’s on sacred ground, and it’s my place to connect and heal in. I just wish there were others to share that sacred experience with. 

Tonight is a new moon, and I’m being called to do a rebirthing spell to let go of someofnthis negative energy; use it to take into account the growth I’ve made/tried to make, visualize who I want to be, and give thanks to the universe. I feel a resistance and a calling for it, but I know I must press onward. 

When Spirituality was Born into Being

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Its no secret that I was a seventh-day Adventist for much of my development in my teen years. It’s was more than a religion, it was a culture that had it’s own reality… Spiritual sensations, emotions, and connections that I’ve genuinely missed as a result of having been in that community and left are suddenly being recreated within me; that spiritual sensation of surrenderance, forgiveness, and healing all suddenly seem to be what I’ve been more increasingly aware of from time to time.

I thought I needed to be a part of the community to feel this wholeness and acceptance but… I don’t. The closer I get to making myself whole by welcoming, accepting, understanding, and nurturing the past, the more I begin to feel these things again… Healing is always a spiritual journey it seems, but that doesn’t make it a religious one; I’m on an internal pilgrimage, but the shrines and temples I gave are really graveyards to be cleansed… And that’s okay.

Is this what it means to make yourself a higher power through self-care? There’s always a part of me that looked at the message of becoming your own higher power as incredibly narcissistic, but if done through self-care, self-discovery, and welcoming the pains of my past, it becomes a balancing act. I must meditate more often.

Buddhism: 1

Christianity: 0

😉 ❤

Reconnecting with the past

  

Recently I’ve been working out of Pia Mellodys work on facing love addiction, and it separates how codependent addicts are split into 2 categories: the love addict, and the love avoidant. Love addicts cling at the hip where love avoidants fear that intimacy, but desperately crave it. As the patterns unfolded before me for myself, people I’ve worshiped in the past, and the toxic church system that breeds emotional addiction, I’ve come into some pretty painful dreams lately; my laptop has been out of commission however, so my blogging journey sucks with this crappy WordPress app that’s incredibly slow. 

Moving on, dreams of abandonment have surfaced where either I’m swarmed by fruit flys or Mosquitos and I’m forced to abandon everyone, including my son, just to run away so the bugs follow me and won’t hurt anyone anymore. 

I’ve had dreams where I’m fighting with people through text and wake up trying to discern if it was real or not, and my visions have never been that intense

I’ve had dreams of being punished and abandoned that force me to wake up in tears… Connecting with all this baggage without the assistance of extreme religion based on sheep hearing mentalities or friends who don’t value spirituality and connecting within oneself the way I do so brazenly hurts… It hurts a lot. I finally get why I don’t understand friendships, and how removing people at the drop of a dime is a faulty protective feature I use because it helps me cope with emotions and maintains control…

But this sucks. 

I want so bad to indulge in my mind palace – fantasies that get me high and help me run away from reality… But I’m afraid. It’s a cycle of addiction that’s very punch-drunk-love based in its own way. It’s safe. It’s pervasive. I miss running away into a heady, potent, and intoxicating dream world… It’s a functional coping skill for children in neglectful or abusive situations but works as a double edge sword with both strengths and weaknesses as a result. 

For now I’ll go back to my energy work, back to my oracle cards, and back to my stones, teas, and singing bowl… I really need to make an altar, but more importantly, I need to find a way to escape these nightmares. Sleeping past 5am without the panic attacks would be amazing. 

It’s been forever, but just beginning. Happy New Year 2015

Finished 2

Well, here we are… it’s New Years Eve 2014, and what a year it’s been. I’ve gone though a 5k race, a car accident, moving, failing a course for the first time, graduating with my bachelors despite the failure, starting my masters, going to therapy, and bridging the gap between me and my ex.

For my son he’s grown so much, and his language has increased in vocabulary and his ability to deliberately choose words (and actions). I have been tried and tested on a daily basis by that boy, but here I am another year fought.

What’s strange is that I can literally put myself in last years shoes and remember dancing and drinking the night away like it was yesterday. In truth, I have the ability to do exactly that, and I really want to considering the lack of social entertainment I regularly deal with, but there’s simply no quality to it.

I feel stretched and pulled this year; I’ve been challenged, grown, and reconnected with myself on a deeper level. It’s been a year of trials for sure, unlike anything I’ve experienced (and I hate dealing with anxiety), but I’m hoping this year things will be different. Perhaps I wont live in fear of the next struggle to come my way, but be proactive and try to work through it a little more healthfully before agonizing through panic attacks. Additionally I applied for a better position within the organization I work for, and I’m hoping I get the job with a decent paycheck. I also want to start going to CREATE for my internship, and I REALLY want to go to the US Virgin Islands. Money management would have to be a goal then… need a new crappy car and money to get things done.

I have to say I’m quite proud of myself despite the years worth of exhaustion. I overcame homelessness and managed to move our family to a new place after being evicted. I managed to get through my first term successfully despite the struggle. I am painting, investing in a skill of personal value, and even sold one of them. I’ve become more competent as an up-and-coming counselor, and am even able to use the experiences I’m gaining in counseling to learn in depth about who I am and what I’ll do. I’m very existential, which I couldn’t have even properly labeled at the beginning of the year, and am beginning to realize that this isn’t just therapy, it’s a journey. My original belief was that if I just told my life story and get it out there, then the sooner I can get through all the bull-shit and move on with my life…. but that’s not how it works. In my goal to become more authentic I’ve had to dig deep and open up to what I do that I feel embarrassed or shameful about, being challenged to learn how to deal with these emotions, and expose myself to the change I find is necessary. I’ve begun to discover my voice… my inner voice that I keep sealed up out of fear. I’ve challenged myself to speak up where normally I wouldn’t; I’ve even invited the neighbors upstairs on over to allow our kids to bond and help make a connection with them. I never would have taken the time to actively get to know my neighbors in the past…. I’m glad I have. Hopefully we can become friends and I can feel a little less isolated.

I guess as I just spill my thoughts out on clicking keys, what I find is I have goals – resolutions that I’ve already started and want to continue. I want to learn how to be me. I want to feel proud of myself. I want to learn how to be gentle with myself. I want to learn how to love myself. I want internal emotional health and the ability to shine outwards by simply being who I am. In this ritualistic time of objectives and goals that we set ourselves up to fail at 88% of the time, perhaps being real is the only goal I need this year, and that one goal can encompass all that.

Once again I’ve made new friends, lost old ones, and reconnected with some I never expected too, but the quality of the journey I find is changed, molded, challenged, and shape by the people you walk it with. I also closed the door on Seventh-day Adventist, and am opening the door to new opportunities as to discover an interpersonal spirituality – a relationship with myself (insert masturbation joke here). I’ve explored new places from Maine to Massachusetts that have been incredible, and hope to continue this spirit and desire for adventure. I’ve hated this year, and I’ve also loved this year.

This has been my 2014, and will be my 2015.

To my fans, followers, and humanitarians

Hello Everyone!

While normally I use this site to record my dreams, as well as talk about the occasional life event every now and then, this post is about living your dreams. Specifically, I was accepted into my Masters degree program for Mental Health Counseling. My dreams is to one day be able to open my own practice, however, I need your help. Please take the time to read carefully, and help however you can.

Much love from the hopeless dreamer herself,
Carol Simpson

http://www.gofundme.com/c0pav0

Acceptance Letter

Lingering on the Edge of Consciousness

I wish I could remember it.

I was walking to my sons appointment earlier and I remember a fragment of a dream I had – but no more than a fragment.

Essentially I’m walking away and I see a tattoo on my arm from a second-person perspective, as though I were following myself from behind at a distance. Then I thought of Pastor Rice and his homophobia statement, and was transported back to the Rochester SDA church. He was asking questions about things that were essentially bad like “who watches secular t.v.” and “who plays videogames” – half the people were liars since they didn’t raise their hand. Well finally he asks “who here has a tattoo”? Suddenly Ryan Upson is sitting right next to me with his hand raised, and as is mine. We’re showing off out tattoos to each other when I can feel someones judgmental eyes burrowing into me like I’d done something horribly wrong; it was Ryan’s brother Jason, who was putting me down without a word. Even though he was a few pews behind me, I could feel both his presence and detect his thoughts; then again I was usually able to read him well anyway… back when we were friends.

Sadly that’s all I can remember. Truth be told, I do want a tattoo. I think, other than the obvious correlation to the events that occurred at camp meeting, this is more about the fact that I want to be who I really am without feeling judged or persecuted. On the one hand I don’t want the church coming after me; on the other hand I want to be who I’m really meant to be, despite what others think.

The problem is I care what they think.

bride-henna

Lacking Focus

I remember bicycling to the church and reciving a phone call from one of the men, but some level of miscommunication had taken place. I was told there was gonna be an event of some kind that required a certain attire. I show up and the problem becomes extremely obvious – was I was in my night gown and (obviously) feeling horribly self-conscious. Why that was the attire for the event I dont remember, but I know that the miscommunication was when that event was taking place because people were coming in, and everyone else was in normal daytime clothing. The for some odd reason we start it off with everyone standing up and giving the morning pledge of aligence. I didn’t want to do it because everyone standing would notice me and I just wanted to leave. Eventually I make a break for it and manage to get a ride home with one of the more high-strung, head strong, conservative older women. I forget what we were talking about but I get home, change, and decide to make it back to church on my bicycle again. As I was leaving I received a phone call. I look down at my cell fearing it may have been Joe but it wasn’t. Actually the picture on the caller ID was of two men bicycling away from me. Before I answer I ask myself if this could be Jason and sure enough – it is. We decide to meet up, and I tell him I’m headed to the church. He agrees and we take off meeting up at about the same time. I know we were talking for a while and may have even agreed to go elsewhere, but I don’t remember at this point – other dreams cloud my vision.

Dreaming of What Will Never Come

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Ugh! I had the most unrealistic but amazing dream about him. 😦 *sigh*

I was at the church, and it was the first time we’d seen in person in years. I walk into the church and he’s in the waiting area, looks at me, looks to the ground, mumbles something about my name to himself in a rather sad and beckoning voice -I think it was actually a greeting, and heads out the door to putter around the front. I put my bible down in one of the pews and, sensing he wanted to talk to me, I leave out the front door, but I am uncertain if I should say hi. He comes around two more times as I make my way to the swings; again he mutters something under his breath and leaves. There was something strange about the condition of the swings – they were ruined, and damaged tree stumps are now where you would sit to swing, four of these stumps to be exact.They had rough edges uneven edges with some of the bark missing. They compacted together in the center, almost in the shape of a 4 leaf clover.

Finally I have no choice. I walk on over to Jay calling out his name. He ignores me now, so I pick up the pace and jog on over to him. I catch him after he’s walked across the street to one of the houses. I mention something about the swings, and how its a shame its been ruined, and he agrees. We start having this light conversation about something insignificant, but he’s hovering over me. He seems sad.

I tell him I miss him – and he says he misses me too. I grab hold of his hand for a little bit, and he stands up against me and holds me in his arms. I return the favor with a hug too. I bury my face into his chest, then shift so my head rests on his shoulder. He leans his head down so I feel how scruffy it is. Its only a little rough – and I enjoy it. I brush my cheek and nose up against his rough cheek – and in a move that’s beyond bold, I peck his cheek in a way I think is barley noticeable. He smiles, looks down at me, closes his eyes, and rests his lips against mine. I shift a little bit and purse my lips to form a kiss. It was just enough to encourage him, because he does the same and finishes what was started with a small kiss. My whole body was alight with sexual desire and need for him. In that one kiss, the sum of my teen years somehow seemed fulfilled, yet the promise of more was now looming in the air. It was everything I had ever hoped for. We back up a little and smile. I blush and stare down; he stares down and kinda kicks one foot. We look at each other again. He takes my hand and we walk towards the back entrance of the church – smiling like goofy idiots. Hell, I am a goofy idiot.

We make it inside and I forget what happens, but I know I wander off and find Stephanie. We start to talk it up and Jay comes back around and sits with us. I comment on how were short just two people from having the group back together – the bachelders. We start to laugh it up and talk, but then the dream shifts into the “general hospital” style drama.I was just conscious enough to find the concept of the new dream stupid, and I start to miss him, and I wake up.

Now that I’ve had a chance to process it – that was intense; too intense. Normally my dreams of him are bad – heart breaking even. I just dont understand why for two nights in a row now I’ve had such dreams about him. I must confess I miss him, but I don’t have any desire to actually approach him, and I have no idea how I’d react if he approached me. All I can say is that I hope today is a good day.

Oh – the symbolism of the swings being destroyed. I wonder why it was destroyed and rough tree stumps were left in its wake. The swing was there, but lay in shambles around it. I was heartbroken. I guess in real life those swings remind me of a happier time – my favorite times spent with him. Maybe it has something to do with that.