suddenly this week, i am up from four to six am and then sleeping till nine or ten. weirdness. what parallel reality did i slip into? does this book want to be written at night? am i to switch up the routine? who knows. change is not something humans take easily. listened to a kd podcast the other day that changed me with one sentence, about walking into desires and not avoiding them. a monk had showed him his insides, and as he said it, i suddenly could see my own. the light house transferred into revealing my insides. me, yeah, the great avoider. in two very distinct areas. not new news, but my heart saw this, not just my head. can’t put it into words cause it makes no logical sense. but when you are hurt in a certain way at a very young age, the programming of the subconscious mind does very strange things. anyhow, i saw where i need to bring love in. powerful time this is. the walk into the underworld again, as samhain draws closer. it’s all about obsidian, onyx, black stones, black clothes. black, color of the feminine, knowledge, roots, and protection. the true nature of saturn without those artificial rings. i am being cryptic again. listening to french jazz while typing. change. what if instead of being removed from my desire in order to find love within, i now receive my desire and give this love found to another, in a personal way? not as their priestess. not in a removed way. not teacher. not universal. but as michelle the animal, shaking, shivering, and being vulnerable. i feel ready to not know what i am doing again. and yet i do know. both. always both. there’s a fear keeps rising from these bones, led on reigns by the question, “am i making the right choice?” i don’t know. i really don’t. but why the obsession with being right? and further more….what is wrong? right is growing and wrong is stagnating. right is truth and wrong is delusion. a real area of black and white, when so much of life is grey or colorful. this black and white distinction in the heart, is where the great black goddess is ready to yank out weeds and provide fertilizer when needed. she soothes my doubt with her solid contained love. it’s not about the flux of feelings. don’t put poisons in the soil. water, feed, protect. focus on this, and not the intellect where doubt breeds on thoughts flying through the impermanence. water, feed, protect. this is what i do as i step down into the underworld again, to face the denied feelings and the repressed desires. got a watering can full of compassion in one hand, an obsidian wand in the other. am hopping across blue lilies under a stormy sky filled with disparate beings, wishing to make me think they are separate, big and terrible, hoping i will be afraid or blame them, in order to keep them alive. illusions are intense. instead, i water them with love right back into myself, until they exist no longer. just your average day i guess….