another earthquake in nepal. my tummy ached last night, and i cried endlessly, like i am this morning too. no words. no manipulation of the feelings. just tears and sorrow. second day. tired body. the sky still grey. now i know why i was so lethargic yesterday and felt defeated from a deep place in my heart, beyond the mind. as my sensitivity increases from removing habits and mental clutter, i feel even stronger, the pain and loss of every human. it’s ok. i am learning. i will learn. in my little studio, alone, clutching my tummy, giving myself reiki, tears pooling onto the sheets, krishna das on repeat, i am learning how to feel without running or avoiding, analyzing or attempting to manipulate the feeling away. to be alive is to feel. and then you die and living becomes something else. some believe in a heaven, some believe in nothingness after death. i don’t believe in anything, i feel and remember what comes after and before death. feel myself there, before and after this life. it’s a comfort. i am not sad for that part of those who died in this second quake. i am sad for the shock, and those left behind. i am sad for the fragility and confusion of the human mind. sadness serves me too. was writing to a friend yesterday about how maybe i am not at the part of finding beauty in how strongly i feel yet, but that i am able to accept it, and hope to find beauty in it. and then, in the evening, i found beauty in it…as i wrote in first person, being my main character…the one i have been mentally holding a notion of for almost a year now. she came to life on the page, as i was able to let go of being mental about her too, in my quest to feel my feelings all the way through. her birth onto the page, brought a feeling of joy i don’t know how to compare or contrast to any other feeling of happiness. her birth also affirmed that i write for the love of writing, not to be given a paycheck from it, or have what i like be well received by others. it would be nice, but that’s not the reason. was officially able to carve out solitude on my days off this week, and that gave my character the room she needed to come to life. realizing i have to force myself to be alone and not socialize. i don’t have time to see all the people in my life as much as i wish. i don’t have the time to do half the stuff i want to do. this is what it is. proud of myself for being able to carve out the the time i need, verses future daydreaming about living out of the city, in order to be able to write. removed the daydreaming all together from my mental diet, cause it’s a false refuge, i realized. everything i want to do, i do now. this means letting go again, of looking for love. it hurts too much to look. it hurts too much to care. my heart is by no means bitter or armored or blaming or anything like that. it’s just raw, hurting, and sensitive and needing to focus on what these hands can hold. that’s all. much love to nepal and all the creatures and souls….