Law of Attraction (Hippie Ghost Band style) reveals Doormat Syndrome

Stopping her from blaming the world for all her problems, didn’t come easy.  She didn’t understand why she kept attracting the same experience? People will stay on the merry-go-round of similar events, with a name, or location altered. Jasmine needed to acquire the skills to see yellow and red flags. These two could signal you that a repeated pattern is approaching. Peeling the layers away is a method we use in the spirit realms. We decided to teach her the process.

                                 

     ∞∞∞∞∞

                  Why did the Doormat Reemerge?

 

Our brains start to be program early in life. It acts like a computer and wishes to keep things running. It has scripts for every experience we have encountered. Those experiences, which came with a punch of emotions, are the ones that lead us daily and on rare occasions. My spirit group informed me, my programming is still active. Each programming might take a mini-vacation, while letting another pattern have the opportunity to dominant for a period, but this is temporary.

Their explanation met deaf ears. They were speaking an alien tongue, so another concept was presented.  This one hit home and made sense. It also answered several of my questions.

 When you met your husband, the self-saboteur and victim where on vacation. Other facets took the reign. The robust, vigorous and rebellious woman took center stage. My future husband didn’t see me as a doormat. Eventually both the self-saboteur and victim returned from vacation and sprung back into action.

I could see where this played out, but it didn’t answer my question. Why did I slip backed into the damsel role, when I started dating? The return of my old dating habits surprised me over the years. My spirit guide explained the roots to those patterns, before my husband’s  laid dormant.  All through my married life, I assumed my husband’s love healed me. My husband’s love did it. A lot of the doormat behavior stayed still in the river bed of my mind, waiting to sprout new seeds. With Wally’s death, his view point of me stopped being reflected, leaving the older tapes space to rise, with a vengeance.  Throughout the twenty-nine years of us being together, I never saw myself, as he did. Within a year, after his death, the damsel sprouted. Their roots still were planted deep into the fertile soil, from tapes of distant years. I didn’t know what hit me. I just let the self- saboteur take over and put me back into my original car. The same one my late husband tried to help me escape.

For being an intelligent woman who was well read on areas of co-dependency and other addictions, I didn’t see it sneaking up on me. Why? Comfortableness. There is a familiarity to what we know. It feels like a broken in pair of shoes. Our desire pushes us forward into our addiction, which can be an old one, or a new one. Sanity erases itself, as we battle through obstacles to grab ahold of our dependence. I did this. My spirit group woke me up to what I was doing. I created this mess, and it was me who attracted these people into my life. Energy will attract similar energy. Like attract like.  My thoughts created this road to pain, victim and doormat.  At the time I dropped blaming, I noticed the constant anxiety attacts stopped..  Taking accountability started to heal me. My spirit group felt I graduated, so began lesson two; peeling away the layers of my beliefs.

 

 

 

 


 

What a Piece of Work is Man

She didn’t know, but the vivid dreams itched her hands, and the sensation stayed until she picked up a paint brush. The tool in hand, and a pallet of many colors resting on a counter, she succumbed to the need to paint these dreams in mural forms. The shapes and people painted identities remain clueless to her. Day in and day out, her paint brush furiously moved over the canvas of walls, until a month later each wall, plus the ceiling contained imagery of a lifetime and place alien to her, yet familiar. In the center of the ceiling, glowed a buttercup, which finished this piece of work.

“What a piece of work is man…”

Who said that? “Who’s here?”  Going through each room of her Lighthouse Bookstore, her search came up empty. Creepy.

“You mission is completed. The Hippie Ghost Band received your call.”