How to say, "NO!", without poking a stick in the wasp's nest

because it isn't going to do you any good to get stung by a bunch of wasps now is it?

I am starting with that title, because I recently poked a stick in a wasp’s nest when I said no to my father and didn’t achieve the objective I intended.

There is nothing like spending time with my parents to spotlight just how spiritually evolved I have actually become. Bless their hearts.

And I can say, I have made progress and I am glad I am here with them.

One thing that seems incredibly important, in these very disruptive times, is personal discernment and the capacity to say no to what one is not aligned with.

What I am learning is that the “No!” does not necessarily need to be voiced.

A “No!” to anything, a true “No!”, comes from a centered and aligned place.

If not, the “No!” heads across an invisible line between me and the other person and pushes on them a bit.

People don’t like that, especially people like my 89 year old father with strong opinions.

They tend to bite, or sting, depending on what you want to compare the perturbed person on the other side of the line to…and in this case, I will say that my father snapped at me a bit like a dog whose yard I crossed into without allowing my rear end to be sniffed first.

But I digress.

Sort of.

Because one thing I am learning about the energy of what feels like an effective no is that:

1. the “No!” often contains anger (which is energy that helps me hold my inner alignment and personal boundaries)

2. the “No!” also has some humor in it (and humor does soften things a bit)

3. it is best not to direct the anger “at” anyone, but to simply vibrate out the frequency of my “no” and humor if it’s there, like a ripple into a pond; it is not necessarily necessary to say anything out loud, although sometimes I do

"Anyone can be happy when things are going their way. The real test is if you can find happiness in unpleasant situations."—Sean Stephenson #365

A “No!” is a subtle, but important energy and there are many things to say “No!” to right now.

My first recent “No!” actually arose on the way to visit my parents. That “No!” went fairly well.

I had to change planes in Houston and after rechecking my bag, retrieving the carry on I left on the plane (I was chatting with a new seat mate from El Salvador and got distracted), I followed the signs to yet another security checkpoint.

I have TSA pre check status and Global Entry, both of which have been highly convenient over time, despite the fact that I have now had my face scanned and find a lot around that questionable. However, one perk is that I have discovered that TSA pre check allows me to avoid those whole body scanners.

You may feel differently than me about the things, and personally, I find them disturbing. Since I have also been concerned about cell phone radiation and non native EMFs (man-made electromagnetic frequencies that may not be so healthy for my body), those scanners went on my “caution” list the minute they came out. That’s when I learned I could “opt out”, which I did. Every time. Regardless of the status of my connecting flight and how long it took for TSA to find someone to pat me down for hidden explosives and water bottles I may have stashed in my underpants.

There was only once I let go of my personal standard and inner and outer “No!” to this scanner assault for a lesser version, which was when I was flying to see someone who I was told might pass at any moment and my connection was tight. I prioritized making the flight.

This time, in Houston, I didn’t see a sign for TSA pre check as I neared the security checkpoint. A female guard was standing at the entry to a mostly empty line I would have to snake my way through to reach the baggage and human scanners.

“Hi, can you tell me where TSA pre check is?” I asked.

“We don’t have that here,” she responded.

Now, what she meant, was that the entry to the line did not exist where I was standing, and what she didn’t say was that there was an entry to the line I wanted and I had to just go back where I came from a bit, take an elevator somewhere (I think down), and then follow the signs to the security line I would like.

But she didn’t say that and so I assumed Houston was a bit backward, and hadn’t implemented TSA pre check lines for people arriving on international flights.

Sigh.

So, I snaked my way back and forth following the empty path that would have been much quicker if I could have walked directly to where I wanted to be. But. Oh well. I told myself I needed to walk.

At this point, although I did not have an actual “No!” to anything in particular other than security measures in general, #1 and #2 were kicking in…mostly #2—and if you don’t remember what those were, I will refresh your memory here:

1. the “No!” often contains anger (which is energy that helps me hold my inner alignment and personal boundaries)

2. the “No!” also has some humor in it (and humor does soften things a bit)

"Anyone can be happy when things are going their way. The real test is if you can find happiness in unpleasant situations." —Sean Stephenson #365

As I assembled and sorted my things, of which I had many since I had just left El Salvador for an unknown amount of time, I asked the man handing out tubs and directing people to take their electronics out, “I heard there is no TSA security checkpoint?”

That is when he told me the bit about the elevator and I felt some #1 coming in and silently seeping from me towards the woman who could have saved me from all this.

But it was too late, I didn’t see an easy way to snake my way back, and my things were already rolling forward on the belt into the maw of the x-ray machine.

“Ok, well I want to opt out,” I told him, as I gazed at the people stepping into what looked more like a Star Trek transporter than a safety device.

“Sure,” he replied.

My belongings were moving forward quickly along the belt. I thought he said something into a tiny mic on his lapel and I wasn’t sure.

When I saw my three tubs appear on the other side of the scanner, with no one in sight for my pat-down, I asked again, “Is someone coming?” (I only glanced at him for a moment as I wanted to keep an eye on my now unguarded belongings on the other side of the x-ray machine which no one seemed to be watching, happily, but me).

“They should be coming,” he said, “but I’ll check again.”

A few moments later a woman appeared and motioned for me to follow her.

Anger and amusement both arose when she confirmed that yes, I did need to remove my Earth Runner sandals. I can’t imagine a way to put any explosive in them and I padded after her in my bare feet.

This is not my first rodeo when it comes to opting out of the transporter and I am used to the narrative by now.

“Where are your things?”

I pointed at a suitcase and three tubs that had all arrived on the other side of the x-ray machine.

“Don’t touch them,” she said as she stacked the tubs into a precarious pile and held them all in her arms.

“Please follow me.”

She put my things down somewhere, and told me where to stand while she complimented the color of my hair as she asked me to extend my arms palms up (I think it would be nice if they were trained to say, “assume the Jesus position” but they aren’t…). I mostly ignored her explanation of where she would be touching me and with which part of her gloved hands. I knew she had to say it (I’ve tried to stop them in the past and the idea of breaking this rule seemed to terrify them, so now I just leave it alone).

She followed her explanation with a thorough pat down and then trotted off to put her rubber gloves in a scanner to check for explosive substances. As she walked away, I thought to myself, “All I have on is essential oils and herbal deodorant.”

That seemed to be enough of a bomb threat as she came back to tell me her gloves didn’t pass the test after our little soiree together.

“I have to call someone else,” she said.

“At least you got a nice massage,” she smiled (I imagine in an attempt to console me).

Now, I think she actually liked me. But it seemed strange to insinuate that my unwanted pat down was a soothing massage.

It reminded me of how strange it seemed to put on a mask to walk across a restaurant and then take it off to eat with people, once I sat down at a table way-back-when. Or strange when people said getting a shot of something would make me safe and then were afraid to be near people who didn’t get the shot…which is confusing if the shot worked. I am still confused.

It was strange to stand in the Jesus position and watch all the people not opt out of the scanner. One young woman had looked over at me when I told him I wanted to opt out with a “I-know-why-you-are-doing-that-and-I-get-it” gaze on her face before walking forward consigned to her fate, into the full body scanner. Maybe she was late for a flight?

Or maybe she didn’t want the massage?

“This is a massage? You are calling this a massage?” my brain said.

But I mostly ignored what my brain was saying.

Cognitive dissonance is kind of the norm now, you know? Plus, I didn’t know what was coming next.

A second woman, who I think was a supervisor, arrived and asked me to assume the position again.

I really couldn’t believe it as massage/pat down #1 had been quite thorough and I didn’t think there was anywhere they hadn’t felt unless they were ready to do some internal work on me in the middle of the airport.

But Houston must like giving customers massages, so Houston decided to have another, different woman, thoroughly pat me down again.

I guess it was my lucky day. I guess only people who are not feeling lemming like get to have lucky days like me.

The second woman also requested I lift up my bare feet and show her the bottoms, which were not as clean as I would have liked since they had required me to walk barefoot across the cold, white tile due to the dangerous possibilities of what I could have hidden in my Earth Runner sandals.

Now, it is interesting that TSA pre check doesn’t require me to do many of those things anymore.

“No, you don’t have to take your computer out anymore.”

“You can leave your shoes on.”

“Don’t worry about the plastic bag, just leave it in your luggage.”

People without TSA pre check have to pay a price.

And people who opt out of the full body scanner? Well, don’t you worry darlin’. They don’t have to suffer at all. Those people get massages. And you don’t have to worry about putting any of those busy airport TSA employees out too much. They don’t have to do it often.

They only do it for special people.

The one’s who refuse their full body scanner.

Lucky one’s like me.

Now, I would say that the “No!” I was feeling which I had to those scanners, that I held onto through my non-compliance through inspection of the soles of my feet and two “massages” had all three of the components I mentioned above in it:

1. the “No!” often contains anger (which is energy that helps me hold my inner alignment and personal boundaries)

2. the “No!” also has some humor in it (and humor does soften things a bit)

3. it is best not to direct the anger “at” anyone, but to simply vibrate out the frequency of my “no” and humor if it’s there, like a ripple into a pond; it is not necessarily necessary to say anything out loud, although sometimes I do

That matters.

It matters most to me. But standing up for what I believe in also says something.

That girl who glanced over at me was thinking a bit before she stepped into the transporter.

And all the people walking through it after her could see me.

I didn’t fight.

I didn’t complain or say the scanner is unhealthy.

I didn’t yell at the women giving me the massages.

(And I must admit that I did scoff and laugh a little sarcastically when I had to remove my Earth Runners).

I know this seems like a lot to write about what is a seemingly small thing. I know some people would argue that I have already complied with The System by getting TSA Pre check and having my face scanned in customs using Global Entry.

But I know something else.

It feels good to do what feels right for me, regardless of what people think and to do the best I can in this topsy turvy world, as often as I can.

And I think people feel that.

And that, THAT, is a form of love.

And Love, I recently learned from some mushrooms and invisible beings, is all that is truly real, which I mentioned in some previous posts.

The rest is The Matrix and how I choose to play in it and learn from it.

So, when it comes to Houston airport security, I am going to call that a win.

But now let’s move on to my dad.

Because now God has upped the ante a bit, and I am grateful. I really am.

After arriving in San Diego later that day, I got an uber to a place my friend and fellow ex-pat from El Salvador, George, recommended.

I had told George car rentals had become rather expensive now that I don’t own one or have insurance.

“Last time I went home, it cost me $1000 to rent a car, George. I had to get all the insurance they offered and it was expensive.”

“Really? I never pay that,” said George with surprise. (George has been an expat for a long time).

“I always use a place called Dirt Cheap Car Rentals. The cars are older, but if you don’t mind that, they work fine and get the job done. Insurance is included in the price.”

That is how I found myself at Dirt Cheap Car Rental picking up a very old, white Ford Fiesta. It makes some loud screeching noises when I start it and so far, is amusing me tremendously. I got the upgraded package, which allows me to drive it in both Los Angeles and San Diego county. I could have saved $50 a week by specifying only San Diego and my parents live near the border of Temecula and I considered visiting my sister in Long Beach. I didn’t want to take any chances. I was out the door for a little over $250 a week, all inclusive.

I think that is why it amused me so much.

As long as it worked, I considered it a win, with a $750 windfall that I was happy to use for other things.

I was driving the Fiesta getting close to home, my old home and my parent’s current home for over forty years now, when I saw them in the sky.

Those pesky chem trails the airplanes were spraying again.

Except some people say they are always and only water vapor even though there is now public information to the contrary.

The chem trails started niggling at me when I began to see them in the sky over El Salvador after the IMF loan agreement was signed. They may have been there before, but I never noticed them. Then I saw a video on X about them which troubled me more.

That is when I forgot the little lesson from the mushrooms and subtle beings about only love being real, and got a bit lost in anger at chem trails and my incapacity to do anything about them.

I signed up for a substack (@arianamasters) here as a paid subscriber so I could learn more about them as I do feel knowledge is empowering and gives me more tools in the dojo, if I can remember what the mushrooms said about only love being real and remind myself I am in The Matrix and the knowledge is just giving me information about the practice opportunities in it.

But I digress.

It was my favorite time of day, nearing dusk, and overhead, as I approached the freeway exit, I saw a long chem trail coming off the back of an airplane like one of those intestinal worms you hope you never have. Then, on the other side of the expansive sky, I saw two more planes flying side by side with tiny trails behind them. Pin worms really. Tiny pin worms.

“Well, there you have it,” I thought. “There is one huge trail behind that plane and two tiny, fading ones behind the other two. No one could argue with that. That long trail is not just water vapor and I am not so sure the other two are either.”

Of course, I didn’t take a photo.

The Ford Fiesta required my full attention.

But I didn’t need one.

I had seen it.

About thirty minutes later, I had unloaded the luggage and groceries I had purchased and had finally sunk into the couch across from my parents in their ancient armchairs that used to belong to my grandparents many years ago before they passed. Mom’s back massager was making a quiet hum and a fire was crackling in their wood burning stove. The living room was cozy and nice. That’s when I mentioned the chem trails I had seen in the sky on the way to their house. I had only seen photos of them that way in the past. But this time, I saw the evidence for myself and so finally, I felt validated!

“Those aren’t chemicals, Terra. That’s just water vapor,” said my dad.

I gazed at him in his armchair.

It had been a long day and I had already had two massages.

“But Dad, there was one airplane with a huge trail behind it and two others in the sky at the same time, without the same thing,” I repeated, wondering if he was simply tired and hadn’t been listening. Or perhaps he had not understood?

That is when my father went into “lecture mode.”

My father likes to do this.

I think he feels wise.

He begins to speak, without looking at anyone, like a professor in front of a class of sleepy, trapped students.

“Airplanes create water vapor,” he began. Then he inhaled as he prepared to continue his lecture, “It is simply physics….”

(And, based on past experience, I knew this could go on for quite some time if I was willing to sit and listen, which I wasn’t. My “No!” was certain of that.)

However, this is when I made what I consider a fatal mistake. My “No!” I would say, I was at stage one, where there was simple anger in it. I hadn’t reached the humor stage yet.

It was quite unwilling to listen to my dad’s lecture.

What I could have done, looking back, was to feel the “No!” inside myself, owned it, and made a decision.

I could have asked myself, “Is he going to listen to you, Terra?”

Of course, the answer to that was clearly a “no”.

And then the response would have been to not fight with him, as he wasn’t going to listen anyway.

If I send my “No!” at someone, they are going to react. It is like a sword fight. You can’t block and jab without a response.

But I could have held my sword with the point up.

I could have interrupted him and changed the subject. I could have stood up and excused myself for a moment.

Instead, I tried authenticity, but where I made the fatal error was when I directed the energy at my dad.

“Dad, I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Let’s change the subject.”

That may sound reasonable.

It was, outwardly reasonable.

But I am training in the Matrix and these experiences are a gift.

My words and energy didn’t match as the energy in the words was strong and basically said, “No!”.

Dad heard them as a pushback against him.

And Dad responded.

“I am going to keep talking until I have finished,” he said.

Mom looked at him.

“She may leave,” she informed him.

(And I, caught by my psychic mother, was honestly busy calculating the number of days I planned to stay and was adjusting the amount of time in my head).

My father responded with a comment that he would say whatever he wished.

Now, I will digress a bit again to say, that my mother, my father, and I have all had boundary issues. I am aware that my parents have both had boundaries that were not respected when they were young.

And I have had issues over the years with them respecting mine, which isn’t that surprising when I widen my lens a bit and include their personal life experiences.

But this energy in our family needs to change as it certainly isn’t healthy.

My attempt to set a boundary in this instance hadn’t gone well and I wondered about it.

Later, on a call with my friend Sandra, we discussed it.

I realized there was nothing I could have said that my dad would have heard.

But what I could have done was to observe him and hold my inner “No!” inside.

If I know what is right for me, no one has to agree. No one has to give me permission. And I don’t have to fight for it.

A “No!” is an energy. I am not saying I think one should cave. I didn’t cave in the airport. But I also didn’t push back, at least not outwardly.

With my dad, I did.

And it didn’t work.

One can’t use the same energy to fix something that is broken.

A new energy must come in.

That energy is one that includes respect for people and for myself.

That energy can face conscious and unconscious gaslighting without batting an eyelash and say, “Bless their hearts, they’re learning and they don’t have to think like me or see things my way.”

That energy is allowed to be mad.

A “No!” has anger in it. At least, that seems to be the initial way mine appear.

If I let them evolve just a tad, humor tends to arrive to the party next and knocks on my door. Most situations have some absurdity to them from Humor’s perspective.

Sometimes I have wondered if something was wrong with me when I would get mad, and want to laugh at the same time. But I know now that is not the case and both guests are welcome at my table. In fact, the party goes much better with the power of anger combined with some levity. When they see one another, often Perspective arrives soon after and takes a seat at the table. Perspective likes to sip a glass of wine and take it all in. Then, Perspective often sniffs the air a bit and hollers for Discernment to come on in and join everyone. Discernment usually has a good idea of how best to utilize the energy of the Anger.

Together, they remind me that if only love is real, then all I am called to do is to stay in my own inner alignment and with all of them there, I can do just that. They help me find Compassion for myself and for those around me. To stand in my Truth. To open my Heart and feel what is in front of me or inside me that needs some Care.

I hear Beverly, my chi gong Grand Master remind me to notice:

• That’s interesting

That what is interesting is also:

• Not my stuff

And that the best question is always:

• What can I learn from this?

A “No!”, your “No!”, and my “No!” matter a lot.

A “No!” is an expression of your sovereignty.

It is an expression of your divinity.

It is a “Yes!” to who you are, which is a divine creation.

If only love is real, and you are made of love, nothing is going to change that.

My Earth Runner Sandals at the Santa Margarita River, Fallbrook, California

As I lay on a rock in the middle of a stream near my parents house in my tan through bikini basting my mitochondria in light, doing what feels good to me and for me regardless of what I have been taught in the past, I watched the chem trails. I saw the ripples in them that might be caused by invisible frequencies from various towers and weather tracking devices and I thought, “Bless their hearts. Who would want to try to manipulate the world and the weather like this? They really aren’t feeling a connection to God now are they Terra?” and I felt some compassion for the “They.”

I walked back along the path towards the parking lot and looked at the gnarled oak trees and the poison oak with the light streaming fluorescent green through its leaves. I watched tiny seeds float through the air like almost invisible bits of white fluff and saw a red tailed hawk fly overhead.

Santa Margarita River Trail, Fallbrook, California

“Terra, can you not like those chem trails, and can you also open your heart and let the energy of what wants to create them in and hold it with some care?”

And I did.

I won’t say “No” to my father again. Not like that with the energy pushing “at” him.

But I will stand up for myself. I will continue to speak my truth when it feels right and always live it as best I can. I will vibrate out my “No!” to what is not love and my “Yes!” to what is.

And God will keep giving me opportunities to practice.

I hope to continue to find reasons to smile at those opportunities, eventually.

So, the answer to “How to say, ‘NO!’, without poking a stick in the wasp's nest,” is to feel the “No!” in yourself, to own it, to hold it and make space for it. To allow yourself to feel angry and to use the anger like a pillar inside yourself so that you are upright, like a sword of Truth held in Archangel Michael’s hand. A true “No!” has inner alignment in it, along with compassion. It includes discernment. It doesn’t poke at people. It doesn’t try to be right or to win. It just is. And you allow yourself space and honor yourself enough to be true to yourself. A “No!” is aligned with your inner compass and your intuition. A “No!” comes from that place. It is not about Right or Wrong. It is about standing in your power and your heart at the same time and holding whatever emotions and feelings arise within you with compassion and care. It is about drawing in what is “out there” that you don’t like and giving it a place, and some understanding.

Maybe a “No!” and Love aren’t all that different? Maybe in fact, they are quite the same?

In the end, it is all about frequency, tone, and energy and how you feel them and direct them.

For now, vertical seems best to me.

I think my dad, if he read and understood this, would agree.

We made scrambled eggs together this morning. He has been cooking breakfast for Mom since she broke her hip, which is healing nicely. She and I walk together in the morning, slowly, through the cool mist, up a steep hill and then around the house until she gets her mile in while she tells me about her many memories. I think she likes Dad making breakfast for a change.

This morning, I learned Dad had never scrambled eggs, but he showed up to learn how with me.

Bless his heart.

We have played Rummy Tiles together every night and I have won so far. Rummy tiles is a game I have played a lot over the years.

I told Dad I had been going to Chess Club in El Salvador and had only won once.

Dad is the one who taught me to play when I was a kid.

Tonight we switched from Rummy Tiles to chess and Dad obtained a stalemate from me.

He was giddy. Giddy with happiness.

“I got a STALEMATE!” he giggled! (He was almost jumping up and down). “I got a STALEMATE! From you! That’s a tie!” he said as he looked me in the eye, delight oozing from every pore that probably has been scared about getting old and losing too often.

Well, Dad. Yes, you did. And I am both surprised and pleased to see you so happy.

It is quite sweet.

And thanks Dad, for playing games with me, even when now that you are older, I often win.

Although Dad, I have to say now that the stalemate feels like a win too for me.

This is a link to my new friend and health coach Benne’s interview with Dr. Jack Kruse on light, sleep, ADHD and mitochondria and mitochondriacs who like to lie naked in the sun or wear tan through bikinis.

I have been enjoying

Christopher Cook

’s substack, The Freedom Scale, which keeps me thinking about my “No!” and “Yes!” to things.

My friend,

Lou Bell

, whatswhatwhosewho, writes on psychedelics, mindfulness, and the interconnection of life (he is getting a masters degree right now in Psychedelic Studies). Lou had a website where he offers some powerful and lovely breathwork over Zoom twice a month by donation on the new and full moon.

And

aven

has been writing some really sweet short stories lately (she is participating in a course on storytelling and it must be good ‘cause her’s have been fun to read)

Please leave your own suggestions and recommendations in the comments.

Tulips and Rosemary, my parent’s adobe house, Fallbrook, California

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