it's never too late to start writing a new story

A friend told me a few days ago,

that quite often , actually,

 more than a little  he and his wife end up in an argument or a fight. Or she suddenly slips into a bad mood, or an inner drama. They start talking, and somehow, right from the beginning really, it always turns out that he’s the drama queen.

Sometimes even without her saying a word – she just comes home in a bad mood, and suddenly he’s the one who spins into drama, into an emotional storm,

 buzzing around the house like an Energizer bunny. But not the cute pink kind, more like a little Chucky doll spreading drama in every direction.

So we sat down and talked about his chart, and I told him something like -

“You know what, darling, this whole thing where you suddenly turn into Priscilla, Queen of the Desert?

 It’s not really yours

And the fact that you want to run away whenever she’s in a bad mood or wrapped in her own emotions not so pleasant to say, but it’s actually pretty correct for you right now.”

He looked at me with doe eyes and asked: 

“Is that even legal, this thing? Am I allowed to leave when she goes into drama? Because according to the law I’m supposed to listen and contain, right?”

“Yes darling,” I said, “in your case, not only is it allowed 

sorry to say-  it’s kind of essential.”

Very often, when people come for a chart reading and I tell them exactly this – at first they look at me with those same doe eyes. But then, suddenly, or a few days later, they come back and say:

 “You know what, that was so true. That one little thing you said sorted out so much inside me. Looking back, I realize that most of my life I was actually fine – I just felt guilty, like I was doing something wrong, trying to avoid conflict or running away every time drama started. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? But deep inside I always knew it wasn’t really right for me. I just felt bad, guilty, doing what was natural for me.”

Well, as they say, heaven is full of guilty people.

So why does this whole thing happen anyway? We have nine centers in the body. One of them is called the Solar Plexus.

It’s like a little motor that emits emotions. That’s how it works - like, not so pleasant to say, but a digestive system that releases gas as it processes.

We all have it. But for some of us it’s defined, and for others it’s open.

When it’s defined, it means you’re built to process the world through emotions. You’ve got the container for it - it knows how to do the job. 

But when it’s not, all that stuff that’s being emitted - you don’t really know what to do with it. Your system simply isn’t built to process all this thing called feelings.

For you, it works differently. Not better or worse - just different.

And when you’re near someone with a defined emotional system, who’s now “digesting” emotions, let’s say, what comes out is - they’re the ones eating, and you, not so pleasant to say, you’re the one farting it out, if you’re lucky. Or actually feeling like you’re about to throw up. 

Because your system is desperately trying to get rid of this foreign thing that just entered it.

So yes darling, when he or she is digesting – find yourself a quiet corner in the house, and come back when they’re done eating. Then, if it’s right and fits the moment, you can talk about it – or simply give a hug and sit in silence.

That little thing - which isn’t really that little , can create huge order. Not just inside us, but in this thing we call relationships. Especially, by the way, with children.

Because when I, as a mother, slip into drama and there’s my sweet little child suddenly flapping in drama too, and everyone yells at him, not understanding what’s going on  if in that moment we realize that the kid is actually just releasing my drama and not his  it can save years and years of guilt and uncomfortable feelings, starting already in childhood.

Because if we want to make correct decisions that come from the body and not from the mind - first of all, we need to truly understand and meet this whole thing called our body. This system called me.

And figure out the actual user manual, what makes it work right, and what doesn’t.

Because if I’ve already arrived at heaven’s gate, and sweet angel Gabriel opens the Big Book and wonders which door to send me through ,at least let it be because I was driving my own car, not because of points I collected driving someone else’s.

And I’m saying this as someone who, just last month, went to a traffic school course because of points that belonged to someone else...

So, as the saying goes - “not my fault” died long ago, that was yesterday’s paper. 

Now it’s time to write a new paper with new headlines and new stories – that actually, truly this time, tell my story.

And it’s never, ever too late to start writing a new story.

Peace ✨