Take It To The Liminal…February 23, 2010
Saturn in Libra transiting my 2nd-house is really breaking through the sludge-zone and I have just explored the meaning of the Moon transiting my 10th-house and it is waaaayyyyyy good: it’s your time to shine in your chosen profession, and be recognized and appreciated.
Three years ago, I was working for a boutique pathology laboratory as a Medical Secretary and the vibe was off right from the beginning. I was on time for the interview, but the Office Manager was running behind, so I had to wait 30 minutes, then the interview lasted two hours, and then I didn’t hear anything for a couple of weeks. So I rang up and found out that I was the best applicant for the position; the Office Manager had just been too busy to get back to me. I started on St Valentine’s day and within three days I knew it wasn’t going to work out.
The person I was replacing filled the role of the “Office Scapegoat” and I was told a lot of stories, with relish, about her faults and failings. What I heard was: “We need another Scapegoat!” While I needed no training in my main duty of audio-typing of the pathology reports, I did need training in other aspects, and the Office Manager was always too busy. She told me to ask if I needed help, yet whenever I needed help, she was either on the phone or absent from the office, and so I bumbled through and bungled up, then would be hauled over the coals.
Each time I tried to raise the issue of the Office Manager’s unavailability, she would counter with objective reasoning, which essentially kept me in the fault-zone. After five weeks, I finally received some sketchy training and was able to take patient enquiries and telephone billing. It was the policy of this laboratory to give discounts to patients with health-care cards or to bulk-bill through our national health-care system, Medicare so there were no out-of-pocket expenses for the patient.
The more I got “scapegoated”, the more I bulk-billed and became the ‘Angel’ on the phone for patients who were financially hard-up and were stressing over meeting the pathology account, which was on top of the hospital bill, the anaethetist’s bill, the surgeon’s bill and all the other bills they had to deal with. I was in a position to make life that little bit easier for these people. With one click of a computer button, I wiped their debt off. It was all perfectly kosher; I simply chose not to stringently adhere to the office policy.
It was a small office with the Office Manager, myself and another full-time Medical Secretary and three part-timers. I would listen to the other women talk about their lives and noted the songlines of the Martyr archetype. It was also an office, I had been told at the interview, that had a ‘family’ atmosphere – and that raised a Red Flag. However, I needed the money as it had been four months since I last worked.
By the end of my second month there, nothing I did was right and the nitpicking was in full force and I was taking note of the energy dynamics between my co-workers, who were the Office Manager’s favourites, who the Pathologists couldn’t stomach and the overall pettiness was difficult for me to be around. Energetically I started to check out of this position and the enormous relief I felt when my contract was not renewed after the initial 3-month probationary period, astonished the Office Manager.
She told me that she had been feeling physically ill before my assessment, and what turned out to be my exit interview, because of how I might respond. Then she raised an incident from the past, where I did not volunteer to come into work over a weekend. The office computer totally fritzed itself as well as the replacement, and there was a backlog of reports to catch up with. At the time, she dropped hints, inviting me to raise my hand and volunteer; I didn’t take the hook.
So when she raised this as a ‘failure’ of mine, I simply countered with:
“If you wanted help, you should have asked”.
Then I cartwheeled out the door with two weeks severance pay and applied for Unemployment Benefits because I had technically been sacked.
Being a Medical Secretary is not my chosen profession. Being a Secretary/Office Worker is the echo of the unlived life of my mother that I had been unconsciously redeeming and resenting. Being a Flower Essence Therapist, Consultant in Agoraphobia & Panic Disorders, a Archetypal Soul Coach….a practioner of the healing arts is not only my chosen profession, but my destiny.
I have spent three years existing on Unemployment Benefits, fulfilling all the expectations and obligations of JobSearch Network Providers, participating in “Work For The Dole” activities (which is modern-day slave labor), spinning my wheels in Vocational Rehabilitation and being Case Managed by beige-and-khaki people whose only advice was to tell me to ‘dumb down my resume’. I have been in Job Groups and training programs and listened carefully to the frustrations of my fellow ‘dole bludgers’, as we are commonly perceived by those who have never experienced unemployment. I have detected how the song of the authentic soul gets drowned out and annihilated by the Cookie-Cutter mentality of the “System”, and for some time I have perceived my own experiences and frustrations with unemployment and living way below the poverty line as field-work.
This morning I had an appointment with yet another Case Manager employed by the Salvation’s Army Employment Plus jobnetwork; another interview and assessment in a long line of interviews and assessments that started in 1999. The Salvation Army were my first Case Manager’s, I know they are going to be my last.
As a result of the answers I gave this morning to a computerised assessment, the ‘System’ has flagged me for the highest level of assistance and an option I have previously dismissed, was presented to me again. This time, I followed through and made an appointment with another entity who will give me a report, which I will show the beige-and-khaki people, who will, according to policy and procedure, take me off the treadmill.
This pleasant outcome just happens to coincide with my intention to relaunch my chosen profession and to build a client-base that will be financially self-sustaining.
A great deal has been going on under the hood in both my outer and inner life these last three years, curve balls and blindsides from people I had kick-arse Sacred Contracts with, and all along the tending of the seeds that were planted back in 1989.
A generation of intense personal growth, study and test-driving of techniques, rituals and modalities. Of walking in this world, stumbling in this world, deconstructing false beliefs and values, and the rebuilding process of my authentic self; ever deepening, ever spiralling, ever strengthening.
I have gone through so many dark nights of the soul and total disconnects from the Divine and fallen into and out of fields of Grace, that I am fluent in the language of the unconscious. My mess is my message and I have moved past the self-imposed limitation of feeling that I have nothing to contribute; that it has all been said before by those who have gone before me.
In Ancient traditions, a goat was cast out into the desert, carrying away the sins of the villagers: the Scapegoat. One assumes that the goat dies of thirst and starvation – it is a cruel practice. But what if the goat doesn’t perish, somehow finds its way to another village and is taken in to provide milk for the people?
With the three astrological aspects of Lilith in my 1st, 10th and 12th houses, Her energies have helped me to blast through a barrier that has kept me stuck in this wasteland of lack.
I mentioned in a previous post that the Black Moon Lilith Corridor straddles my Leo Ascendant and I received of an image of a woman riding a lion. A couple of days ago, I was startled to find this photo on Mystic Medusa; it was exactly the image I had seen.
The Scapegoat/Outcast archetype is blamed for everything, whether they are at fault or not. He or she is cast of of society, or has left it on a voluntary basis. The outcast figure can oftentimes also be considered as a Christ figure. The Scapegoat is an archetypal transference figure that is common – anybody can be a scapegoat and be a party to the scapegoating of another. It is one of the most valuable archetypes of the 12th-house to understand and explore and integrate the energies within one’s own psyche.
My new Case-Manager asked me a question today: If I won a significant amount of money in a Lottery, what would I do? I didn’t even have to think about my answer: formally study Astrology, get my qualifications and enhance the scope of my chosen profession. Saturn and Moon hi-fived and I am riding these transits on the back of a lion.
Money=energy. I have won the Lottery.
As a footnote, this boutique pathology laboratory was operated by Jews and a result of my discussions with the female partner, I became interested in the Qabala. You have to be open to the Divine nudges, even if they nudge you out of your comfort zone. It’s so much more fun playing in the mud!