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What powers you really?

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What powers you really?

fun with electricity companies...and a love poem for the real you.

Carrie Triffet
Dec 1, 2022
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Hello, you. Welcome to December.

person holding white ceramic mug
Photo by Alex Padurariu

There’s this cute euphemism used in British real estate listings: Character cottage.

Sounds like an amazing, Instagram-worthy place to live, right? All rustic oak beams and open fireplaces, thatched roofs and wildflower gardens.

What it actually means is: This is an ancient, and therefore leaky, creaky, drafty abode, where ice forms on the insides of the windows in winter.

We don’t live in one of those. Ours is a relatively new build. And yet it, too, is a bit of a damp, mouldy fridge in winter time.

Heating fuel has always been a moderately expensive luxury here in England. In other years we’ve tempered the winter temperatures by running multiple dehumidifiers (Tip: It’s amazing how much more comfortable a room feels when the sofa isn’t cool and damp)—and then sparingly adding the use of radiators, as needed.

But this year is different, eh? This year, electricity prices are triple-quadrupling: It’s due to climate change. No, wait! It’s because of Russia! I mean China!

And the record profits reported by those selfsame electricity suppliers? Total coincidence, I’m sure.

Whatever. Aside from the further emptying of whatever spare change is still rattling around in humanity’s pockets, there’s another very significant side effect to all this. I’ve talked about it before, but I want to address it again here:

It’s the ongoing invitation to turn our gazes away from our own luminous (and infinitely self-powering) divinity…and onto our increasingly Dickensian living conditions, instead.

It’s an easy pothole to stumble into. Even when you know better.

One morning last week, as I was making breakfast, I noticed just how keenly aware I’d become of our power usage. Like, here I was, using a stovetop burner and the toaster. At the same time. Gasp.

Don’t get me wrong. Keen awareness of power usage itself is not a problem. It’s great to be prudent. It’s excellent to be eco-minded. But this wasn’t that.

This myopic narrowing of focus, this eagle-eyed counting of kilowatts, had started to become my regular habit. This was me, voluntarily squeezing myself down into survival-based smallness.

And it’s understandable of course. I’m not beating myself up over it.

But this limited focal lens had me hanging out in a lower frequency bandwidth than I want to be. It’s a bandwidth that automatically erases all higher frequency Knowing; a bandwidth that brings an amnesiac forgetting of my own true limitless identity. And yours.

And that’s a problem.

But hey. It’s cold outside, in most parts of the Northern Hemisphere anyway. So I suppose you might be thinking your own true limitless identity (and mine), is a bit of an abstract concept, in pressing times like these. That it’s nice…but kind of a luxury, when there are heating bills to pay.

On the contrary. It’s amazing how clear one’s vision becomes, when you remember who and what you really are. And when you do, it’s incredible how the power of life itself, flows in, and through, and as, your real identity in truth.

It may not pay the electric bill—or it might—but either way, it’s a form of power that nobody can mess with. And that’s where I wanted to be.

So I stopped cold (if you’ll pardon the expression), and turned away from counting kilowatts. And I consciously lifted myself back onto that higher wavelength of remembering what’s real and true, about you and me.

And from that holy frequency, I offer you this love poem. To jog your memory and mine, reminding us each, of what powers us really.

silhouette of man standing on rock while looking in sky
Photo by Greg Rakozy

A love poem

I know what you are.

The real you, I mean.

The true you.

I know your magnificence

Your incredible

Pristine perfection.

Your radiant holiness.

I know your vibrant

Dynamism

That is the endless flow

Of Life itself.

I know it

In my bones

In my gut

In my Knowing

Beyond all knowing.

I know it about you

Because I know it

About me.

Or, wait.

Actually it’s

The other way round.

Yes.

I know it about me

BECAUSE

Your perfection

Is so profound

I cannot help but

Be certain of my own.

Because

They are

The same thing.

Because

There is no point where

You end, and I begin

On this sacred wavelength

Where holiness is.

This eternal wavelength

Where only truth is true.

On this wavelength

I have watched

The entire universe

Weeping with joy

Holding its breath

Celebrating

The immense honor

Of just being in

Your holy presence.

YOUR.

Holy.

Presence.

That’s right.

You are cherished

Beyond all imagining.

For real.

Do you know this?

Feel into it

If you like.

It’s your truth

And mine.

And FYI

(In case you’re having

trouble with that…)

FYI

Your eternal perfection

Cannot possibly be

Messed up

Tarnished

Tweaked

Or downgraded

By any of the goofy shit

You think

Or say

Or do

In this lifetime

Or any other.

Your weirdness

Your wounds

Your baggage

What you said

To your ex

That time.

None of it touches

The wavelength

Of timeless truth.

On this

Hallowed frequency

You are

Forever unsullied.

Spotless.

A gift to all.

On this frequency

Your luminosity

Your natural

Electromagnetic

Beingness

Is what powers

Creation itself.

You are

The very essence

Of peace.

Of wonder.

Of goodness.

Of infinite Love.

And yes, effortless

Self-generating power.

Twentyfour/Seven

All of the time.

Whether you think

You deserve to be

Or not.

You really have no say

In your own

Divinity, my dear.

Your staggering beauty

Is not up for debate.

It’s a done deal.

And trust me

When I tell you this

From my own

Long history

As a chronic doubter

Of my own

Infinite worth:

Try as you might

No matter

What you do

or do not do

You can never be

Unworthy of yourself.

person holding heart-shaped snow
Photo by Mara Ket


As I wrote this piece, I glanced up from my computer now and then to gaze out the window (as you do), and two glorious rainbows appeared one after the other, right before my eyes.

And it wasn’t even raining. Nice.


Just letting you know:

As promised, The Fricken Map is Upside Down is now uploaded to my Substack, where it can be read in its entirety for free, as my gift to you.

Speaking of Substack, I’m mulling ideas for how to provide a regular gathering spot for connecting, so we can walk together through these peculiar times…if that’s something you’d find useful. I suppose that should be the first question: Would you find that useful?

If so, what do you think of a 1-hour weekly live space where we can chat via text thread? I’m thinking Mondays at 8pm UTC. Let me know in the comments below, if the idea appeals.

Stay warm, until next time.

Love, Carrie


Thanks for reading. Subscribe for free (or gift me if you’d like) to receive new posts in your inbox. Content is identical either way.

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Roy
Dec 7, 2022Liked by Carrie Triffet

peculiar times indeed…

Yes, a weekly chat thing, good idea.

Nice poem!

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1 reply by Carrie Triffet
Robyn Quaintance
Dec 1, 2022Liked by Carrie Triffet

I really like the idea.... but am travelling for Jan and Feb..... so probably wouldn't have a chance until March. Thanks!

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