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Shabbat: Thou Shalt Not Kill, a story of Murder

Saturday, 27 February 2016 — Shabbat

This morning was unlike most Saturday mornings where I peel myself out of bed and act like I’m unimpressed with Saturday’s roster or agenda.  I had a guest cancel last minute at the salon which actually freed up my day.

I like to greet most of my mornings very calm.  There’s something about waking up naturally and allowing the sunlight to slowly massage itself all over you and slowly allow your muscles and eyesight to warm-up to the new day.  For me, each new day is a day to start over.  I know it sounds cheesy, but for me, that’s the most comforting thought because sometimes my days, like most people, aren’t ideal.  When you wake up thankful and calm, you tend to walk through the day thankful and calm. People that wake up in a rush can really fuck up the energy and mood of a room.  I don’t ever want to be that person.  Also, I’m not a very nice grumpy person.

I never write on Saturday mornings because I don’t have the time in all actuality, but I do today.  I could use the excuse that it’s the Sabbath and I’m not allowed to do any work, but the fact is that I break Shabbat rules to go do hair.  When you work in the beauty industry, it is crucial to be available Saturdays (especially if you limit your evenings with clients like me).  Lately, I would say my Fridays and Saturdays have become calmer in the salon.  There was a time when I doubled up on guests and had Demetria assist me.  Those days are over.  I may return to that someday with a new color assistant, but for now, I’m enjoying the calmer pace at the end of the week and I think the guests are too.  There’s less sense of stress and urgency in my world these past few years.  I don’t care to stack ’em in or be the most talked about.

Last night, I was reading a Torah passage and then went on to read in-depth about what the Torah, the Zohar and my Kabbalah teacher have to say about a very grim subject: MURDER. Last night’s passage was about Moses revealing the Ten Utterances (Commandments) to the Hebrews.  Most people are acquainted with the Ten Commandments and know the one that says, “Thou Shalt Not Kill”.  Murder is such a horrible gig.  Why would people want blood on their hands?  Why would they obsess with planning the death of another human? I don’t get it.  I know what its like to not want to see a certain person ever again, but murder is hardcore.  Can’t go there. You stay in your corner, I’ll stay in mine (that’s what I told my exes at least).

Murder, Kabbalistically, is not looked at in merely the physical form of killing someone or taking away their life.  Murder is caused when you are in the process of “taking someone down” or publicly shaming them to cause a mass genocide against that person and their livelihood.  As I continued reading, there is a belief that people that are “Accidentally” murdered in the world are paying for the act of killing in their past lives.  I had an uncle that died by being hit my a semi.  Did he murder someone in another life or parallel universe and now the Cosmos deemed it even?  I can’t wrap my head around this, but it hurts my heart to know that if that’s true, we all need to be very aware of our current actions.

I believe whole-heartedly in reincarnation.  We come to Earth, complete our work and if our mission we came here to complete is finished, we ascend to the next life or cycle.  Your soul can come back and try again in a new form if you didn’t quite “ace” it this time around or you complete your mission and ascend to what some believe is Heaven and that’s a whole new world.  I don’t believe in the general concept of Hell.  I believe coming back repeatedly is Hell in and of itself. Can you imagine coming back and doing the same mistake over and over again? Check please!

The concept of murder,when you think of it, is horrifying! We may be participating in the deeper version when we continue to gossip or try to publicly humiliate someone! The world of Facebook has made me very aware of what its like to have stones thrown at you.  Last year, I made a huge mistake that went public and I was murdered all over the internet.  The platform that helped build my business, get a job with Joico in LA and won me a couple Best Blogger awards was now the catalyst people were using to destroy my image!  I received phone calls and emails full of hateful racial, sexual and religious slurs and people SHARED these with friends and on the online forums and people, “Liked” it!  I truly believed that my life was in danger.  I would lock the salon door, keep my taser close and pray that this mob would leave me a lone.  It really traumatized me!  I couldn’t write, I didn’t hardly want to be seen in public and thought everyone was against me.  There were a few instances where people would shout things from their cars or when they were walking past me.  It was Hell on Earth.  In that time period, I lost an ability to laugh and to love.  I was appreciative of my clients and my partner, but I was being murdered before the world’s eyes.  My friends were dressing my wounds, changing my IVs and waiting for me to get off life support metaphorically.  Spiritually, I was a vegetable. I felt as though the world was gone and that the adoration I had once felt would never come back.

When someone is murdered, the person dies:  Their soul rests for three days and people mourn the fuckery of the situation.  “Why did this happen?” “Who did this?” “I could have helped him/her?” “He/She was gone too soon!”, all kinds of thoughts happen.  We lay them to rest and miss them eternally and pray their soul is safe in the upper worlds.  Did the murdered person bring this to themselves? Time goes by, we declare it a tragedy and sometimes, if the person did great works, they leave a legacy, but we never remember because we get STUCK on the murder: how their life ended unexpectedly and unfairly.

Last April and May, I felt murdered.  I was advised by my attorney to keep a low profile (purgatory if you will) and lay low from Spring to Fall. Fall came, I was ready to restart comedy and public events and then we had the untimely death of Priscilla occur.  The Angel of Death, once again, lured his head into our world and took my Bubs’ mom too soon at the age of 54.  It’s been six months since her death and I feel now as though, even though it’s still foggy, Chris and I are waking up.  I feel like I have been reincarnated.  The laughter I have now is not the same as a year ago, the love I have is not the same love as a year ago, the way I meditate, cook, read, walk or listen to music is NO LONGER the same as I was a year ago.  At my 30-something birthday party last year, I felt the safest and warmest.  A few days later, Priscilla had her stroke.  It’s as if we went from my funeral to hers and then the mourning continued…

Tonight, I am attending a dinner at El Pueblo Museum.  I have seen the guest list.  There’s some amazing people I know and love that will be there.  There are also some individuals I don’t care to see that joined in on the public bashing (murder) last year that are also attending.  Tonight, more than ever, is my time to show them a new reincarnated version of myself.  You may have said hateful things about me, you may have spit in my face, even threatened to kill me or run me out of town, and perhaps you did.  Tonight, my new Light is shining and my soul is coming back for a correction.  I’m there to enjoy the dinner and the company.  If there is still blood on their hands, I’ll know when I greet them or say hello and they don’t say hello back.  I’ll eat my dinner, drink my wine and enjoy the company of others and networking the way I did in my past life.

Tonight, I wake up from the deep slumber of Death and greet a new world publicly.  Its time to leave a legacy, not wallow in tragedy.

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