under belly for real…

yesterday oh yesterday, how i dove into emotional extremes and watched the polarization of my mind and heart from the buddhist core of my soul. after waking up from the revelation dream yesterday, feeling grounded and sure, i catapulted into the opposite. the pulled muscle made yoga so gentle it was hardly a practice. i got real tired. the energies felt off. little things. blender breaking. dropping stuff. feeling off kilter. by noon i was filled with self doubt for the path i am taking. fear gripped my heart in a choke hold. total panic. i just watched with love my insides trash, wishing to be all alone, anonymous, not having to do any of it, free from responsibility, free from this particular life. familiar as the freckles on my skin is the desire to flee and live in exile. i rested for a while to calm my nervous system. went to the cafe before work and wrote it out, gave fear a voice. read the declaration of independence oddly, translating it toward the psychological process. oh psychology i am sick of you! oh healing and spirituality and everything mental and conceptual, narrative and meaning-making, i am sick of you! i am craving exile from my own mind! i just watched. went to work. slow day that slowly brought some innocence and goofiness back to my being. made a jasmine, rose, lime, lavender essential oil spray. medicine. walked around the block in the heat real slow, feeling the pulled muscle with every step. came home after work and lost myself happily in “orange is the new black,” until sleep took hold. fell to sleep listening to a binaural beats heart chakra cleansing. feeling it this morning. the pulled muscle is back to normal. no pain. storm has passed. feeling calm again. still not confident or sure of myself but peace has returned, the desire to run is sedated. this is the opposite of old me who ran every year. exile queen. quitting master. undetected. now i am detectable and walking into what i resist with fire feet and mountain eyes. i am a salmon swimming upstream into my own underworld river. my heart is a sea large enough to transmute all poison. darn, why the seriousness? she said my tummy, which is large like the full moon right now, is filled the feelings i have taken in from the world. everyone tries to give me tools and advice on how to empath without it harming me. why does it never work? what’s the missing link?  twenty years of this already. what say you belly? “stop trying to fix me,” is all i hear. true that. maybe i simply accept the large moon like belly when i take in the fear of the world. shaman belly. love belly. belly that holds hell with love, churning it like butter into heaven. magical belly. belly of power. nectar belly. sage gave me an idea to paint chaos soup. duh. i need to paint chaos soup! why do i always forget when the belly is holding the hell of the world, to paint! it’s not a solution, as we know how annoying and disregarding solutions are. it is a voice. belly needs a voice. i am gonna give it to her.

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