Reflections on the undefined sacral

and a costly, cautionary tale on not listening to my authority

.… Because I think the entire magic of the acceptance of self is that, slowly, and over time, perhaps that awareness itself — whether it be of not wanting to work, or whatever it may be — is enough to begin to shift things in one’s world. Maybe.

Today’s the Rave New Year, or the true start to the new annual cycle.

Apparently, hexagram 41, where the sun currently is, is the initiating codon to every new genetic sequence in the genome. In other words, this is truly the space for “beginning anew,” rather than at the start of January 1st, as has been observed on the Gregorian calendar.

So, Welcome to 2023 :-). And likely the start to some, new cycle in your life.

Earlier this month I returned from two trips to Southern California—

One by plane to visit my mom in San Diego; and just two days after, another with a man named Devin, for a weeklong road trip.

I’ve been noticing the shift in my writing voice since ending the private sub stack on Christmas.

After having written exclusively for that purpose over the past six months, all of my experiences had an eye and ear towards how others would read it.

And now, save for this, I’ve been writing like in an actual journal.

The strangest part about being at this place in my experiment (somewhere between 3 and 4 years), is allowing myself to be OK with most of the time, not wanting to do much of anything at all.

I was watching some videos by Human Design grandma Mary Winniger, and she said something about the nature of mind that really struck me — that it knows to hook us where it hurts the most.

This same time, mid January, two years ago, I was also in Santa Fe, at my first rental that was my very own, and I was doing the exact same things in a day as I am now—

Waking up with pour over coffee in bed, and languidly continuing to sit there for hours, reflecting and writing. —

—Except, I was also working in restaurants those first three months of 2020, until they closed due to COVID.

I was working, in some kind of consistent, daily output way that is the nature of sacral energy, which is here to produce, or here to generate life because it is life, and so I felt no guilt about the rest of my day spent doing literally nothing.

It’s taken three years to see the conditioning of my sacral, the energetic centre which when defined, makes you a generator, and determines that you are apart of some 75% of humanity who are here to expend consistent output for work and sex.

And when you have it undefined, and you are apart of that class of humans who do not have readily-available energy for work and sex, you must learn to continually deal with that classic not-self theme of, “not knowing when enough is enough.”

…. And what’s enough with basically everything, not just work and sex.

While on the road trip, I got farcically drunk, which I haven’t really experienced save for one other time when I was 17 and living in Europe, which was in fact my first time, ever, drinking with friends. Curiously, in both instances, I was traveling, and with people I was just barely getting to know.

Travel in general has been really helpful in my de-conditioning journey— no different than how we generally view travel as a way to suddenly see our routine habits of behaviour more clearly, when removed from our quotidian, daily life.

But back to the farcically drunk story—

At one point in the night, Devin had to carry me across an eight lane highway, content as I would’ve been just to fall asleep on the sidewalk, and once we finally arrived a mile away at our Airbnb, proceed to undress me & clip my hair up so that I didn’t throw up all over myself.

Now.

Were there instructive signs that my spleen (my authority) alerted me to, and that my mind overrode?

Sure was.

And the lesson did not stop there.

The following morning, obviously still nauseous, we went to pack up my car after check-out, only to find my car had been towed. It would cost $460.

When we arrived by Uber at the towing facility, they asked for my driver’s license at the customer window, only for me to realise I did not have my purse. In the drunken confusion of the night before, I’d lost it & my entire wallet along with it, including a couple hundred dollars in cash.

Devin had to pay for everything… including the next three days, of our return trip home to Santa Fe.

… Extremely real, costly consequences of not listening to my authority.

We returned home to Santa Fe, and I barely left bed for three days.

While with a defined sacral, by the mechanics of how openness functions in the presence of definition, us undefined sacrals will amplify that function — work, sex and general energy output, as I already mentioned, being the domain of the sacral.

And in its absence, we will feel the true state of that function in ourselves.

…. And after three weeks of near constant movement, mine is properly exhausted. And boy does it feel good to be able to first see that, and second, to allow myself to simply be it.

And here’s the thing:

It’s not about making it wrong to amplify energy that isn’t mine, nor even that being exhausted is a more correct state.

As undefined sacrals, we need the energy of the sacral. We’re here to have alliances with energy types, so that we can actually freaking get things done.

And so, naturally, there will be moments along the deconditioning journey, where you overdo it.

We are here to be in relationship with what is different from us; it’s what the entire beauty of differentiation, and allowing each person to be uniquely themselves, is all about.

And what a thing we get to benefit from, even in our most ridiculous moments.

A more minor, and nevertheless insistent thing I noticed on the trip, is how much I’ve lost the conditioned ability to respond, just generally. The sacral centre of course being designed to respond to life, so that it can generate life.

When you have it undefined, there’s much you must learn to undo about operating in response to life… that is, when you begin to realise that nothing in you actually knows how to function in that way.

It was most notable in conversation.

I had to repeatedly explain to Devin that I wasn’t ignoring him when I didn’t answer to something he said… it’s just that I’m not built for response in the way that he is.

I mean, I can now actually *feel,* that the energy with which to respond is simply not available. It’s literally nonexistent.

A generator meanwhile, is built precisely for that function.

(It’s also worth mentioning that the sacral response for a generator can be distorted. Remember: where we’re defined, we’re fixed in that particular expression. Even though one has consistent energy to expend, it doesn’t necessarily mean that one wants or that it’s correct to give their energy to something. Learning what one actually wants to give energy to, from sacral response to sacral response, is its own learning curve for a generator.)

A generator will ask you a million questions because that’s how they’re designed to be interacted with, and that’s so they can know what it is that’s correct for them to give their energy to, in every moment.

Case in point: Whenever I’ve hung out with Jonah Dempsey, an HD professional here in Santa Fe, he’ll repeatedly correct himself by the amount of times he’ll ask me sacral questions — “Sorry, that’s a generator question…”

… He *still* has to catch himself, even when he already knows the ins & outs of this information.

Again, this is 75% of our world that responds to life. And so it takes a great deal of awareness to unlearn what is the dominant, human mode of existing in relation to all life.

I’ve almost come to see it as the equivalent of phantom limb pain, but it’s phantom sacral energy, haha.

While in San Diego, I went for an early breakfast one morning with a dear, old friend, who’s a reflector and therefore has all 9 centres undefined, including, of course, the sacral. She was talking generally about how much work it takes to be an adult human. As an example, she loves taking baths. But the work of cleaning the bath, she’s found, makes her actually angry. And yet, with how much she enjoys baths, of course the bath has to be cleaned.

I told her — You don’t have a defined sacral, you literally are not here to work.

… and with a sigh, she understood immediately.

… but then, obviously, the problem still stands. The bath tub has to get cleaned.

And here’s the thing — she may still have to clean the bath. Or maybe someday she pays someone else to do it.

But how much less angry, or less bad would she feel, were she to accept that, Yes, I may still need to clean the bath even though I don’t want to…. and that’s perfectly ok, because I’m literally not designed to.

What I mean is — how much worse do we make it for ourselves, when we make it wrong for how we are, or even just how we feel?

… Because I think the entire magic of the acceptance of self is that, slowly, and over time, perhaps that awareness itself — whether it be of not wanting to work, or whatever it may be — is enough to begin to shift things in one’s world. Maybe.

(I would highly recommend the book an A to D of you by Richard Rudd. Will happily email you a PDF version.)

The running joke on the road trip was that 50% of the time, Devin was goading me out of bed.

I’m a quad right as far as my variable composition in human design, or how my consciousness operates. What that means is, I’m here to be relaxed at all times. Ra once wrote about quad rights, they are practically here to go from bed to bed, or at least bed to couch.

Without knowing about this particular fact, Devin joked that for the next holiday, he’d buy me a bed for each room of my place.

And just after, as he left my place for work, parted saying, “Don’t work too hard; just enough to make you sleepy.”

… Knowing when enough is enough.

<3

ash

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