May 9 2023, VA Route 56 to Seeley-Woodworth Shelter:
Boo planned to drive me back to the trail so I could get an early start. I was going to write about how grateful I felt that he was such a kind hearted gentleman to me, which he was. He took me in so I could have a place to stay and bought me delicious meals from local restaurants. He let me do laundry and take a warm shower. Yet, right before we left, he approached me as if to give me a hug, but instead went in straight for my lips and tried making out with me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Come on,” he says, “only one kiss,” then continued to push.
I took his hands off my waist and gave them back to him. He made a comment about how he saw the kind of stuff I wrote about which seemed to really set me off. It felt like the perception I once had of him just became tainted. It seemed like gratitude had something to do with giving my body away. I felt sick of not being able to be fully myself without mostly every dude assuming I wanted to fuck them. I understood people often assumed numerous things about me due to my writing, but once again, it was not an invitation to make a move on me. I wished I could just be as I was without assumptions being made. I wanted to share my line of work with people around me without it being anything other that what it was: a line of work.
He dropped me off at an on-ramp and I continued to hitch up north. A man named Izo picked me up and drove me all the way to Montebello, VA where I picked up on the trail. He had crazy stories to share. One was about how he went on a helicopter ride and they booted him off for some apparent reason and dropped him off at the next landing spot. He had to get on another helicopter the following morning with a different pilot. Later, he discovered that the helicopter he was previously on had crashed and killed all of the people on board.
Then, he told me of his first time hunting a bear, his experience in Afghanistan at the Red Light District, along with his travels in Iceland and Australia. He shared how the airlines lost his luggage the first two times he had traveled out of the country. Just like me, he rolled with the punches and lived by the moment with a “loose itinerary” as he liked to call it.
When he dropped me off at the trailhead, I hiked south and made it about halfway up the climb to a nice view. I perched myself on top of some boulders and watched as the overcast clouds came rolling in over the hills. I wondered what the world looked like before we came here and got rid of all the trees for farm land and buildings. It was probably a massive land of untouched forest.
When I continued up the ascent, the clouds quickly descended upon me. The cold, wet droplets seemed to refresh and cleanse my aura. It started to rain heavily which quickly turned into raging balls of hail.
After the quick storm, I ran into a guy named Perfect Timing and got to meet the rest of his tramily. One of the guys offered to give me a tattoo and a free ride into Damascus for Trail Days.
Then, I met a guy named K2. He asked how I received my trail name.
“Partially from the way I seduce people around me,” I said.
“Welp, Freyja,” he chuckled, “I’m a happily married man for thirty years now, but I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors with the part you hold.”
Today, I remembered there was absolutely no true substance in sex. I had spoken to Pink over the phone when I had arrived to the shelter and went through a heavy perception when I heard that Voodoo had met someone new. I had to end the conversation since my emotions were so elevated that I felt I couldn’t be present with him any longer.
So, I called Pringles as it seemed she knew how to ground me in a safe space. She had a very motherly, protective way about her which made me feel as though I was being held by her presence/words. She helped me dive deep into the root of the pain and guided me to dissect what was going on that was causing such an intense reaction.
I opened up to her how for years I apparently had this cuckold fantasy, but then I simultaneously wanted to form a holy relationship with a man. She reminded me that I couldn’t serve two worlds. I, myself, felt I was asking too much and that those two things were completely incompatible. It felt like I didn’t deserve to have such a desire unfold. The thoughts in my field were so loud, asking, Who would want to be with a woman like that? and That’s a double standard. It will never work.
But, then I took a step back and remembered none of it was what I really wanted. Any desire/idolization in the apparent world was a complete distraction. And it seemed sex was a huge distraction for me, but still I had faith in myself that I would figure it out. In fact, I already had. I was already in Heaven. I was just watching the past play out and all I could really do was relax and keep centered as the images made their way in and out of my perception. The thing was, none of the thoughts I perceived were “mine”; they were only occurring to me.
Still, it hurt. I felt attached to the sex Voodoo and I shared. I could see how strongly I associated it as love—especially because it was so good. Now, I had to do the only thing I could ever truly do, which was to hand it over to God. It was what I was best at—being alone and releasing the energy into the trees, dirt and stars.
I didn’t want to hide what I was feeling anymore. In fact, I wanted to feel it to the depths, to burn through the fire. I wanted to see what I made real so I could understand that I was only mistaken. I experienced so much hope, even in the midst of the hell that I had made for myself, because I knew that with God all things were possible.
And even as I laid there with tears in my eyes, I knew that I was only crying because I had yet to understand. The clouds that I felt were covering up my shining luminescence were only veils that needed to be lifted. There was light beyond the illusion.
There was no need to worry for Heaven was already here. It was all in my mind. I knew God saw me as I truly was. He only wanted to see me happy and, truly, that was the only way He did see me.
I was a professional at convincing myself I was lost/hurt because of something that “happened” in the world. There was this apparent battle of wanting to form healthy romantic relationships while simultaneously wanting to fuck men and leave. But, there was willingness to trust, even when I didn’t see the results I desired to see on the surface.
Sometimes, I held so much faith in the body sense, but lately, when I felt the feeling of loss or the experience of heavy tears arising, my Spirit knew I was only just pretending. In the midst of the pain, I reminded myself I was just kidding, for I couldn’t really be sad. I was experiencing a perception of sadness and watching a dance of misery unfold. I painted pictures in my fantasy of how I wanted things to appear, but that was that—it was only but a fantasy.
Overall, the message I got from the Holy Spirit was to get some distance from the situation. Silence, solitude and handing things over to God were always the things that helped me surrender to the feeling. Detaching helped me reflect instead of projecting daggers onto the person.
I also felt inspired to let Voodoo be as he was. I didn’t want to change him or stop him from doing what felt natural to him—in this case, him possibly sleeping with other people. I knew that every experience that I perceived was perfect for me and that what I really wanted was just to experience peace within the perception. It was clear I was going through a heartbreak because I got attached to a certain outcome. I couldn’t help what I felt. I couldn’t help that I was experiencing an upset. All I could do was breathe and continue to relax… continue to forgive what never even happened in the first place. I knew I would see the gift in the situation sooner or later—it was inevitable.
Boo planned to drive me back to the trail so I could get an early start. I was going to write about how grateful I felt that he was such a kind hearted gentleman to me, which he was. He took me in so I could have a place to stay and bought me delicious meals from local restaurants. He let me do laundry and take a warm shower. Yet, right before we left, he approached me as if to give me a hug, but instead went in straight for my lips and tried making out with me.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Come on,” he says, “only one kiss,” then continued to push.
I took his hands off my waist and gave them back to him. He made a comment about how he saw the kind of stuff I wrote about which seemed to really set me off. It felt like the perception I once had of him just became tainted. It seemed like gratitude had something to do with giving my body away. I felt sick of not being able to be fully myself without mostly every dude assuming I wanted to fuck them. I understood people often assumed numerous things about me due to my writing, but once again, it was not an invitation to make a move on me. I wished I could just be as I was without assumptions being made. I wanted to share my line of work with people around me without it being anything other that what it was: a line of work.
He dropped me off at an on-ramp and I continued to hitch up north. A man named Izo picked me up and drove me all the way to Montebello, VA where I picked up on the trail. He had crazy stories to share. One was about how he went on a helicopter ride and they booted him off for some apparent reason and dropped him off at the next landing spot. He had to get on another helicopter the following morning with a different pilot. Later, he discovered that the helicopter he was previously on had crashed and killed all of the people on board.
Then, he told me of his first time hunting a bear, his experience in Afghanistan at the Red Light District, along with his travels in Iceland and Australia. He shared how the airlines lost his luggage the first two times he had traveled out of the country. Just like me, he rolled with the punches and lived by the moment with a “loose itinerary” as he liked to call it.
When he dropped me off at the trailhead, I hiked south and made it about halfway up the climb to a nice view. I perched myself on top of some boulders and watched as the overcast clouds came rolling in over the hills. I wondered what the world looked like before we came here and got rid of all the trees for farm land and buildings. It was probably a massive land of untouched forest.
When I continued up the ascent, the clouds quickly descended upon me. The cold, wet droplets seemed to refresh and cleanse my aura. It started to rain heavily which quickly turned into raging balls of hail.
After the quick storm, I ran into a guy named Perfect Timing and got to meet the rest of his tramily. One of the guys offered to give me a tattoo and a free ride into Damascus for Trail Days.
Then, I met a guy named K2. He asked how I received my trail name.
“Partially from the way I seduce people around me,” I said.
“Welp, Freyja,” he chuckled, “I’m a happily married man for thirty years now, but I wish you the best of luck in your endeavors with the part you hold.”
Today, I remembered there was absolutely no true substance in sex. I had spoken to Pink over the phone when I had arrived to the shelter and went through a heavy perception when I heard that Voodoo had met someone new. I had to end the conversation since my emotions were so elevated that I felt I couldn’t be present with him any longer.
So, I called Pringles as it seemed she knew how to ground me in a safe space. She had a very motherly, protective way about her which made me feel as though I was being held by her presence/words. She helped me dive deep into the root of the pain and guided me to dissect what was going on that was causing such an intense reaction.
I opened up to her how for years I apparently had this cuckold fantasy, but then I simultaneously wanted to form a holy relationship with a man. She reminded me that I couldn’t serve two worlds. I, myself, felt I was asking too much and that those two things were completely incompatible. It felt like I didn’t deserve to have such a desire unfold. The thoughts in my field were so loud, asking, Who would want to be with a woman like that? and That’s a double standard. It will never work.
But, then I took a step back and remembered none of it was what I really wanted. Any desire/idolization in the apparent world was a complete distraction. And it seemed sex was a huge distraction for me, but still I had faith in myself that I would figure it out. In fact, I already had. I was already in Heaven. I was just watching the past play out and all I could really do was relax and keep centered as the images made their way in and out of my perception. The thing was, none of the thoughts I perceived were “mine”; they were only occurring to me.
Still, it hurt. I felt attached to the sex Voodoo and I shared. I could see how strongly I associated it as love—especially because it was so good. Now, I had to do the only thing I could ever truly do, which was to hand it over to God. It was what I was best at—being alone and releasing the energy into the trees, dirt and stars.
I didn’t want to hide what I was feeling anymore. In fact, I wanted to feel it to the depths, to burn through the fire. I wanted to see what I made real so I could understand that I was only mistaken. I experienced so much hope, even in the midst of the hell that I had made for myself, because I knew that with God all things were possible.
And even as I laid there with tears in my eyes, I knew that I was only crying because I had yet to understand. The clouds that I felt were covering up my shining luminescence were only veils that needed to be lifted. There was light beyond the illusion.
There was no need to worry for Heaven was already here. It was all in my mind. I knew God saw me as I truly was. He only wanted to see me happy and, truly, that was the only way He did see me.
I was a professional at convincing myself I was lost/hurt because of something that “happened” in the world. There was this apparent battle of wanting to form healthy romantic relationships while simultaneously wanting to fuck men and leave. But, there was willingness to trust, even when I didn’t see the results I desired to see on the surface.
Sometimes, I held so much faith in the body sense, but lately, when I felt the feeling of loss or the experience of heavy tears arising, my Spirit knew I was only just pretending. In the midst of the pain, I reminded myself I was just kidding, for I couldn’t really be sad. I was experiencing a perception of sadness and watching a dance of misery unfold. I painted pictures in my fantasy of how I wanted things to appear, but that was that—it was only but a fantasy.
Overall, the message I got from the Holy Spirit was to get some distance from the situation. Silence, solitude and handing things over to God were always the things that helped me surrender to the feeling. Detaching helped me reflect instead of projecting daggers onto the person.
I also felt inspired to let Voodoo be as he was. I didn’t want to change him or stop him from doing what felt natural to him—in this case, him possibly sleeping with other people. I knew that every experience that I perceived was perfect for me and that what I really wanted was just to experience peace within the perception. It was clear I was going through a heartbreak because I got attached to a certain outcome. I couldn’t help what I felt. I couldn’t help that I was experiencing an upset. All I could do was breathe and continue to relax… continue to forgive what never even happened in the first place. I knew I would see the gift in the situation sooner or later—it was inevitable.
