“letting go of me so that a new me can be born….the more you can stay in that place of nothingness, the more you are allowing the divine spirit intention to do the forming, do the shaping, do the creating, do the renewing…and then you re-emerge.”…tom lescher’s words from the last pele report…he says we are getting ripped wide open, and it’s scary times…and the more we can just live…release, be vulnerable, open, allow, accept, and connect, that there’s new impulses and a new charge coming in to bring in a new world and an opportunity for a new identity and new creation…uranus is helping and it’s all about venus making it happen. boy am i am feeling it. keep seeing the metaphor in my head of an oyster left on a busy sidewalk without a shell. calling out for my heart’s desire but forced to let desire go at the exact same time. dreamed of looking up at a huge mountain last night, with little houses built inside the mountain, and me desiring to climb up to be in one, as if the mountain was the only place i wished for. then i am in a tiny plane, rising up up up, very afraid, but i let go of the fear and accept that i will be ok. talk about metaphors. finally slept for nine hours and feel back to myself. the empty version. so empty. forced to let go of a connection i want to grow. not projecting any wounds onto anyone, because i am letting the wounds go. showing up on the mat, reducing the calories of fat, spending a ton of time alone, staring out the window, not talking too much about any of it, writing pages of a character, giving readings to clients, venus speaking to me, telling me to tell them, it’s all about choice. choice. real live in the flesh choosing. what do you choose? who do you choose? how do you choose? i know i choose love, and that’s about it. i choose love in every moment. i choose to treat people with respect. i choose to feed and nourish, nurture and replenish, trusting the flow of life, as fear beats in my heart like butterfly wings inside of a treasure chest. the dream of love in my heart set against the backdrop of solitude. who will the new me be, i wonder? let go of the versions in my head. let the pain of the past become dead. write poetry instead. living in a studio apartment like a tent. ready to pack up and go at any moment. ready to pounce. ready to grow. heart squeezed of all of it’s past juices. the pele report talks about making another descent into the underworld this week. shit dawg, i live there. i am ereshkigal. need a tour guide? aint no big thing. i have been sprawled out, emptied and steeping in the hot broth of nothingness, time and time again. would be nice to walk up to the middle plains, and better yet up that mountain, naked, pores scrubbed clean, to feel the crisp winds caressing my skin. but ok, i hear you, oh messenger of the stars i trust, and shall stew in the hot broth of emptiness longer, so uranus can do his thing. i shall sing the chalisa each day during this hot season, and speak poetry out loud into my video camera until my voice gets real good at being authentically dramatic. i have been inspired. read “the love song of j. alfred prufrock” out loud last night over and over, working on my voice coming from heart. this might be my favorite poem on earth. yes, it’s sad and about growing old, but i don’t care, i love it. not everything i love must resonate with my belief systems, which are just belief systems anyways, and don’t fucken matter. i love poems that speak to my heart, that’s all. i love people who speak to my heart, that’s all. i got a bhakti heart, that’s all. i fall in love, that’s all. i love what doesn’t speak to my heart too, that’s all. love is all encompassing, that’s all. sprawl me on a pin, as ts elliot says, that’s all. soon i will be dead, that’s all. my spirit will be set free by love, that’s all. and so the day goes, yoga, work and then the night…it’s gonna be alright, i am gonna sing…that’s all.