growing into a tree…

maybe i wont be moving as i thought, now.  the swing and the spin.  back to staying in seattle again.  open to everything.  i keep just focusing on letting go of attachments so that the real truth may reveal itself, and live through my skin.  another night out with a good friend.  feeling the pink rainbow that arched herself over seattle, the night before.  wondering why, for two days, i have felt love gushing from my soul onto the dirty floor.  felt my partner close by, as if i was about to know him.  felt hope inflame itself alive in the retina of my eyes.  it’s as if the dimensions are changing, and reality is moving into a new compromise.  the tarot has been showing such quick changes too, that i am beginning to feel it can no longer be a tool for future guidance, set in stone.  the new rule is that our resonance is the only predictor of what forms take the throne.  old contracts have fallen.  time is collapsing.  outdated models and worlds are washing away like sand castles into the sea.  i feel this happening when i explore behind the veil, and it’s exciting.  scary too, as the unknown always tends to be.  who we are collectively, is crumbling into the sea.  i feel a big change happening in my personality too, with this uranus opposing uranus transit coursing through.  last night i dreamed about trying to catch up with and understand dr. suess.  he seemed like he was on mushrooms, but i knew in the dream, he was mushrooms.  his same world wants to penetrate me.  i feel like an archer.  suddenly remembering camp robinhood as a child.  we did both riflery and acrhery.  i was really good at hitting the target with a rifle and loved it.  sucked at the keeping my arm straight and strong in order to be good at shooting an arrow into the middle of the colored circle.  but today, it’s all about arm strength.  i can’t explain it.  rambling this blog into disintegration.  ready to get on the mat and keep my elbows glued to the sides, as i dip down into chatturanga, a pose that took me almost two years to do, not on my knees.  got legs like tree trunks and arms like spaghetti strings.  or did.  transformation turns my arms into branches.  then i will produce leaves.  next, some flowers will blossom, and birds will sit on me, singing their songs in the morning.  it’s inevitable….