Discarding the Discardment: A Journey Through Synchronicity, Reflection, and Creation
Discarded. It is interesting when you begin to see the reality responding to you with synchronicity. Lately it has been words for me. Ideas that will come, probably from the collective, or algorithm, and I will think on the word. I will ask myself what the word means to me, what emotion it conjures, what attachments I have to it. Typically the word will show up in many places. I noticed this at first with the word unfurling. I noticed it appear in my own life, and then in the collective around me. I recently noticed this with the word discard.
Discardment isn't a correct use of the word discard. Yet, I have used it and many others. It is in the collective. I began to question the word deeply. It was a painful word for me, much emotion attached to the word. I felt discarded most of my life. My abusive childhood was the beginning, feeling as if I was rejected by "society" I felt it deeply as an adult. I at one time wanted to believe authority and realized it too, was abusive. Many of us came together in the collective online. We started delving and diagnosing. We had many similarities, commonalities, regardless of race and gender. We realized psychology had been created and the spirit of it highjacked by Freud. We recognized Jung and embraced The Red Book. It helped me understand the archetype. It is easy to see the evil infiltration in hindsight. But, I innately felt it from the beginning.
Over my life I have been asked "How did you know that?" I trusted my inner voice. For as horrible as my childhood was, it was also the greatest blessing. I wrestled for years on whether I was just using the idea that "it all happens for a reason" as a coping mechanism. The greatest gift of my childhood was the messaged and journey to be true to myself. No matter what that meant. And when I wasn't, I recognized it. I felt it. Developing discernment from many experiences of going against my inner judgement was crucial. I have been preaching about duality since I was young, as well as preaching about the other side of things I was deeply connected to. My struggle with not feeling accepted by the material world left me felt discarded. My true self never did.
I saw the word discardment come up in another post and I began to wonder if it was misspelled. How strange. Over and over in my mind I started asking about the root word, discard. I researched the word.
The word "discard" originates from the combination of two elements:
Latin prefix "dis-": This prefix means "apart," "away," or "to reverse" and is commonly used in words to indicate separation or negation.
Old Italian "scartare": The Italian verb scartare means "to reject" or "to throw away." It is derived from carta, meaning "card," and originally referred to the act of removing or rejecting cards during a card game.
The word was adopted into English in the late 16th century, initially in the context of card games, where it meant to "reject a card from one’s hand." Over time, its meaning expanded to include the more general sense of "getting rid of something unnecessary or unwanted."
So, "discard" ultimately comes from the Latin root "dis-" and the Italian word scartare, tied to the act of separating or rejecting.
A separation that I had given my power away to. I gave "them" the power of rejecting me, instead of me owning the power to separate myself. And truthfully, it felt right. So why was I feeling so deeply wounded by it? Had I discarded myself in the process? I think so. I definitely discarded my empowerment.
I take for granted my original philosophical teachings. Because they had become something I was ashamed of, rejected because of. I began to question my original programming. I was programmed in "New Age" thought. Though now, I know it wasn't that. It was an old age thought system. Perhaps older than the religion the majority of the people around me participated in. Something in my inner being knew something was off, and it hurt. I wanted to be a Christian as I saw them. I even wanted to be a nun, and a monk as a child. Strange thing to want to become. I only knew I was serving a higher being, much greater than all this chaos around me. I have no idea how my mother found her way into the knowledge of the Rosicrucians, but that was the original programming I received. As I started to question everything again, I began to revisit. The tools were entirely more helpful.
I question everything, especially myself. I am extremely grateful for my inquisitive nature. I have seen the abuse of when you don't. Why would anyone outside of me have authority over me? Because of law, expectation, manipulation and me just giving it away. I have always questioned authority, because if you are going to be abusive, that is role you want to play. How do you hold the position of authority? What is the intent? Good or Evil? I know everything is supposed to be that gray matter in between the black and white of this duality. Is it though? I think about yin/yang - there isn't any gray there. Ultimately the motive and agenda is oriented toward Good or Evil. Is the in between gray internal morals?
I can stay in those deep questions for too long. The material will remind me of obligation and duty here, in this reality. My body becomes aware it must consume, eliminate and maintain a certain surrounding. Overcome all that, in my mind, was ascension. Removing physical from the space of the material. Maybe that is a greater ascension and there are levels. Or is my attachment to the physical what is keeping me here. Round and round my thoughts go. Chop wood, carry water.
I have a show tonight. I had to stop playing Diablo last night to go to bed early to get rest. While playing I was thinking about the food table, snacks. Last week we had these amazing cookies I couldn't stop thinking about. I told Derek, "I wonder if we will have sweets today at work." He asked, "Do you get fed every time you go there." I responded pretty much "But, show nights we have a food table, like you see on filming sets. Like I am a real actress." We both started laughing. Why? Because this was never my intent, but I created it. I created this reality. All the moments I thought deeply about wanting to experience, this was one of them. Being backstage, before a show, checking out the treat table. How fucking weird is that? Many, many other moments I dreamt of have been created. It makes me very aware of manipulation of the material. It also makes me grateful I can't instantly manifest my thoughts. Because I do not have full control over them. What I focus on, expands. This is how existence is created, through thought.
Earth to Cynthia. You have a show tonight! Is your costume clean? Where are your boots? Are your glasses in your car? What time is it? How long have you been lost in thought this morning? I need to start setting time alarms and reminders. I need to clean the litter boxes. I wanted to start making myself to a design a day again. The material is here and needs tending.
