25. Riddle is Taking a Final Bow

Would you call me Jess?

Blog Overview: Identity Structures / Reset / Foundations

Seems I finally solved the riddle. It’s not a mystery after all. Though I was somewhat aware that one answer would spiral into yet another question, I was still bound to an identification as the quizzical when in fact it is all quite simple…”it” being a placeholder for that infinite, undefinable Spirit.

Calling myself Riddle for the last 2.5 years was a fierce protective mechanism, an overly exuberant, performative mask.

Riddle was insecure, which she hid by presenting herself as overly-sure. Eager for validation, she shone bright as the sun but was unaware of how blinding, forcefully penetrative, and unattuned her big impact was on the field. She took up lots of space, especially when she felt overwhelmed and out of place. With a big sister’s superiority complex, Riddle secretly loved giving unsolicited advice to people who were confused or dealing with their shadows. Oh, the master riddler. So confident of her analysis, knowing exactly what these people needed. Gatekeeper to all riddles, this persona had the keys to the world’s multifarious problems. Talk about ego!

For most of my life (prior to Riddle), I was deeply immersed in the material world. During COVID years, all that changed. I was recovering from my 4th ACL surgery and was forced to examine my unhappiness and disconnection from Spirit. My first tastes of the Divine were through psychedelic experiences in nature, which led to hours of painting, writing poems, and playing music, the counter opposite to my academic and sporty upbringing. My entire perspective shifted. As a result, I tried on a new costume: an artist who fully rejected any structure that mimicked “the system.” Fuck money. Fuck responsibilities. Fuck it all. I just wanted to track the moon’s waning and waxing, write a story about dragons, dance, and wash in the Ocean.

With a strong fixation to her psychedelic and imaginary Piscean creativity, Riddle felt herself a masterpiece, her works of art an extension of her brilliance. Not to say she wasn’t perfect exactly as she was. In fact, it was entirely necessary, a beautiful gift, to go to the extremes of this identification simply to unpack the mechanics of the ego’s inner-workings. There was, indeed, much beauty to Riddle. She was so present and generous with the moment, but so naïve. Fixated on this artist’s persona, she defined her soul, thereby stifling her evolution.

Riddle had to experience life breathed and manifested solely from the heart. Anything that pertained to the mind was revolting. No amount of reasoning compelled her to balance out her extremist tendencies. After all, she knew best. The unpredictable finances, rash decisions, and giving herself fully to romances were motivated by sensation and immediate gratification. She would deal with any repercussions down the road. Well, in actuality, she wholeheartedly believed that all consequences would magically disappear.

Ignorance was bliss. Until it wasn’t anymore.

Throughout my journey as Riddle, I was unknowingly collecting data, especially in ecstatic dance containers, which is where this persona of “Riddle” was most acknowledged and enabled. This facade was quickly infiltrated by entities that caused Riddle to identify with aspects of the Self that were seemingly more rewarded.

On the dance floor, Riddle moved fast, evading consciousness, weaving familiar threads that designed the same patterns on her life’s tapestry. Looping, in other words. In her movement expression practice, her head circled at dizzying speeds when she left her body, elated in the moment but in very ungrounded and disconnected way, that bliss having no place to land and settle in the system. Essentially, she was chasing a high and often times bypassing her genuine experience.

When she wasn’t in the clouds, Riddle was indulgent with her lower chakras. Sexual energy on the dance floor in the Puna community on Big Island is quite overly emphasized and enabled. “Dance Church”, as many people referred to Sunday morning e-dances, were riddled with the leeky and seeky. I can say this because Riddle was very much engaging with and enabling this behavior. Those unconscious leeky tendencies were justified by feeling empowered in full expression. Dripping in sweat, hips gyrating, and often pressed against a partner, Riddle gave herself entirely to this intoxication. Mind you, Riddle came online more-so than ever when she cut her hair to represent the strong Alpha she KNEW herself to be. In reality, it was simply where she felt more comfortable…in control. She loved stepping into this role with her female counterparts, friends with benefits on the dance floor. You could mop the floor with her sacral juiciness. To the unattuned with jaws dropped, they witnessed a divine creatrix. The goddess. Those were the “seeky” people who fed off the “leeky” energies. By no means am I shaming sexual expression. But there’s a time and a place that’s appropriate…community spaces without consent, not at all the ideal container.

I chuckle in reminiscence at how identified I was in these patterns. And I feel disappointed with how lacking the community was in enabling this behavior…but that’s the medicine of the Big Island. Tutu Pele is disrupting and erupting. She wipes the slate clean and makes you reset. Big Island has quite a temperamental energy, that of a teenager, hence why I went to such extremes with my childishness, my naiveite, my blissful ignorance.

It takes gentle nudges (and sometimes very rude awakenings) to become conscious of these patterns. Fortunately, I have a willingness and proclivity to change. Better yet, I have an angel in the human flesh who helps me see. She knows who she is, as do most of you who have been following my journey this last year.

It’s very obvious to me now that I was needing to know how it felt to fully live by the whims of my heart.

I breathe with relief knowing that chapter has come to a complete close.

My rebelliousness crumbled some important foundational aspects of my life, like my relationship with family and distant friends, my credit score, and core values.

Consequences, that very legitimate response from the universe provoked by action, were almost entirely ignored. Life was happening to me and through me. Feedback that suggested a lack of coherence in the field was swept under the rug. I’ll deal with it later, I thought.

The beauty of this way was that I really trusted that it would all work out. I was finally a kid again with no care in the world. Oh, how I played out the Fool so eagerly and extremely. Gone was the very responsible and deliberate version of myself.

A short visit to my childhood home in January helped me see how far I had gone. My time capsule of a bedroom featured so many accolades, testaments to my extremely devoted nature: sports awards, newspaper features, a forgotten Master’s degree tucked in a dusty corner of my closet, and so much more. That version of me felt so distant. I still rejected her. She was too mind-oriented and practical, needing to prove herself.

Funnily enough, Riddle was also needing to prove to herself that a carefree, gypsy lifestyle would win the love that she desperately needed. Playing out both of these extremes – that of the over-achiever and the free-spirit - was equivalent to a high school girl wearing all black clothes, anointing herself in thick eyeliner, and covering her beautiful eyes with a tacky fridge just to get some attention from her parents (or anyone).

What she didn’t realize is that doing so actually manifested exactly what she didn’t want. Attached to her fears, she brought out situations that made the story valid.

Judgement and critique from my bloodline were subtle or blatant, but constant, in my Riddle experiment. I can’t even blame my parents. Riddle was pulling it out, provoking them.

My underlying fear was that I was unloveable.

I learned that neither of the extremes are ME. They are opposing manifestations of the same thing. To synthesize, my lack of inherent self-worth and need for validation presented itself in two extremes:

1. Overcompensating; goal orientation out of fear of loss of control; dominator; all mind and no heart; penetrative go-getter mentality; hyper-masculine; mistakes lead to punishments; emotional neglect; ambitious ego that overconsumes; work hard scarcity mindset

2. Laziness; immaturity; victimhood; naivety; all heart with no wisdom; no boundaries with self; punish your “offender” by avoiding all conflict (silent treatment); brush all problems under the rug; over-identification with emotional waves; numbed receptivity (the white-flag kind of surrender that gives up)

Eventually, I was spiraling and neither of these conditions felt appropriate. Equanimity was the only way, my guidance told me. Live by your heart, by all means! But do so wisely. Balance your passionate tendencies by making decisions from an understanding that they will have a consequence.

Insanity is doing something over and over again thinking it will change. If it’s not working, pivot. Don’t keep pounding your fists demanding that God open up this door for you if it's not opening. Knock on the next door and see if that one opens.

I’m finding more grace at that beautiful point in the middle, still and centered. I continue down this spiral knowing that more refinement is being asked. Each time a layer sheds, I feel more of myself coming online.

More than anything, I learned that really truly accepting myself, with all of my unique misguided tendencies, those illusions I believe, is all I’m called to do. The love I seek, I give to myself.

I thank Riddle for all she taught me. Because of her, I’m more prone to look within when I seek outward gratification. This was a core wound of mine since I was a little girl. Who knows where it all began, but I sense that the most prevalent layers have been shed. I’m weaving new life into my tapestry. Sure, there may be times when those old patterns that feel so natural, so rehearsed, want to lead the way. But I now understand the mechanics and have so many resources to nurture the parts of myself that don’t feel met by life, loved by God, nurtured by the Divine Mother, and protected by the Divine Father. In those moments, I close my eyes and hold my inner-child in the safest caverns of my heart, where there’s unshakable trust and irrefutable unconditional love.

I’m inviting you all to say a final farewell to Riddle with me. She was the star of the show, but is now taking a bow. Whether or not there be a standing ovation or a choir of boos, the girl backstage feels secure within herself.

And she’d rather you call her Jess now.

My coworker said it best: “Jess feels more like a woman. Riddle feels more like a child.”

Welcome back, Jess. It feels good to be in right relation with you again.

Blessings upon your truest expression.

Love, Ri....Jess

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