I’m a f*cking unicorn

You are a fucking unicorn.  You are a fucking unicorn and all this time, you’ve been trying to be a horse.  You very carefully hid your horn everytime you popped into a room, pretending you were more horselike and able to do more horselike things and repressing the best parts of you.  Unicorns are unicorns and horses are horses.  When you hide who you are, truly, madly, deeply, at the core of your being and try to fit into some other idea of you, you start to dull, you shine less.  Your horn starts to lose its power because its not infused with everything it needs to stay alive and before you know it, your heart is crumpling in your hands.  Bryony Wise, Elephant 1 Dec 12

Well I don’t know how ponicorns fit into the equation, but I had to smile tonight when my brother in law rang up because the unicorn in Despicable Me reminded him to call me…Then as I was reading from my favourite website – elephant journel, an article popped up.  It was entitled ‘I’m a fucking unicorn (or 10 things to do when you get fired for the first time).

It’s hard to have a sense of humour when you arrive back from a tropical island into the depths of winter, joblessness and homelessness.  This is the valley of the integration period I had anticipated would occupy me until October this year.  It’s been really important for me to find a sanctuary from the burdening weight of the matrix … a home, a job..the desire for a safe haven.  In any period of upheaval or stress/anxiety, I’ve found it necessary to escape  from external reality.  But also to escape the noise of my own mind telling me stories.  The slightest reminder of anything mythical, magical, freaky and anti-western has a special way of distracting from the less magical places I find myself in.   I love how I can disappear into unicorn blogland and instantly reconnect with myself.

The container and the ritual

I was first introduced to this concept by my friends who dabble in tantra.  Yes, you read right.  I just mentioned tantra.  Yes, I also know a little bit about tantra…but that story is for another day…!  The container is a safe space.  It can be physical.  It can be metaphysical.  It can be emotional.  It can be all of these things.  But in tantra, its a place where there is a clear set of rules of engagement.  Communication is key.  Mutual respect, admiration, respect, fun, affection and pleasure are all incorporated.  But most importantly, containers represent safety.  I use this term in my head all the time and I find myself relating to it more and more as I travel.  I have designated safe spots or containers.  They are places where surroundings are familiar, people are familiar.  Roads, shops and ideologies are the same.  They are easy to just arrive at.  I like them, because I tend to find that it takes me about a week to settle into a new space.  I thought about the reasons why.  It appears that due to a lack of consistency in ANY area of my life, its hard to remember what my daily schedule should look like.  I literally wake up and have to figure out what I should be doing when I get out of bed.  This, of course, is not a problem for most people…the grind of alarm, brekkie, job, dinner, bed is all too familiar.  Grass is greener and all that.

Its interesting that I find myself dislocated most from the people and institutions that I first ran away from.  I say interesting because I wasn’t sure how these encounters would unfold.  I yearn for odd people, odd food, odd pastimes and a life less ordinary…and when I can’t have it…I retire to my container.

Sometimes I’m surrounded by  the despair created by other people.  I find that I’m particularly sensitive to this if I’m not feeling particularly positive myself.  Sometimes, however, I find I can create this dark space all by myself.  I can be in a perfectly happy space with perfectly happy people.  In the past I’d use all of my energy to put on the happy face….now…I just can’t do it.  Its not authentic.  And it drains my energy even more to have to do so.  So again…it feels more fair to retreat to my container.   I don’t think its very cool to bring others down continually with a never-ending diatribe on the shittiness of life or dispel awesome energy with one foul prick of offending sullenness.

The best way I’ve found to block out the bad vibes is to put my earphones in and literally turn my brain off for a bit…and then…write.

Interestingly, as Tino (amazing balinese shaman masseuse) always used to say to me, ‘a womens brain ceases self chatter in 2 situations, 1. when I (Tino) give them a massage, and 2. when they orgasm.  I can’t argue with his opinion 😉

Disillusionment and Perception

What happens when you want to spend more time in fairyland than in reality?  Its a tough question.  Its easier to be less aware.  To question less.  To know less.

Sure there are plenty of people around that perceive life to be optimal.  Whether its optimal or not is not important.  Its the perception that is important.    The way that we look at our situation is EVERYTHING.  How many times have I just decided to look at a situation from a different angle, and found my energy to shift to a higher vibration?  It’s uncanny.  But it takes awareness and a concerted effort.  And it takes considerable stamina to reinforce the habit.  Small pleasures are key.

I still find I’m a huge culprit of glass half empty syndrome.  The worst part is that I recognise my fallibility and it absolutely kills me that I still return to that space, because now not only am I in it, I’m also observing myself being in it.  Its torture when I can’t operate the STOP button!

This is when articles like this are handy.


It makes me smile.  It makes me realise that I’m a little kooky.  A little special – sometimes in a retarded way.  It helps me remember all of the amazing people, places and memories that helped this little horse to grow a horn.