transforming shame into a sacred name integrated an old neglected part of who i am in a powerful way yesterday. interesting how different methods work for different people. archetypal psychology changes me if i engage in the archetypes with play, not just understand them intellectually. the archetypes are living, not just ideas. i am a theater director of actors that make up all of who i am. the stage is my skin and the script is my speech. the world is the audience, so to speak. uh, no…that’s too much pressure. dreams last night revealing to me that i still feel inadequate but this is pretty common. i hold out peasant hands asking for crumbs when bounty is at my feet, just like the four of cups in the tarot deck reveals. you have to look in the right direction to see the bountiful love. oh bountiful love, i call to you. i call for fulfillment, like a wolf to the moon, to balance out all this work and healing. some robust ease and wild laughter, sensual dives into the velvet seas, love taking me to the knees, beginning new and filling up my eyes with wonder. mingling with jupiter. feeling the ability to expand like a balloon that wont pop. seeing ends of rainbows without the gold pot but instead an open heart. honesty as currency. not making it hard to give myself false reward. working from the inside out to flip the switch from beggar to giver, from off to on, from saturn to jupiter. on and on. the work is never done. and neither is the wonder. wandering the streets of the hill carefully. ice cold slush walk. sit for hours in coffee shop reading about motivational interviewing. being treated like a neighbor from the barista. it’s the little things. i love the hill, i do, and only will leave it for a reason that is not random or if i am forced out which could happen. i know this now. i honor my sense of loyalty that is not loyal just to be virtuous, for i know when to end relationships and consider exits as sacred as entrances. i will leave the hill in sacred exit. i will enter a new home in sacred entrance. all my movements are sacred because i connect to love inside and when i don’t and my movements are not sacred i give compassion to the mistakes and learn from them. all is meant to be when love gazes upon it. hurt and pain, too. we were talking last night about loss. how some loss you live with forever and this is the truth. how gratitude and loss live side by side in the heart. the pain and thankfulness are best friends. life is hard for us all and the more this is metabolized the more love i have to give. wanting to dance so bad and sing. the sun is shining a golden light over grey clouds this morning, as if there are two weather systems colliding, like lovers. the sunlight matches the yellow crane rising high in the sky, making another skyscraper come to life. i love skyscrapers. i love cities. i love the chaos. i do i do i do. i miss new york city a lot this week, too. i miss the city smell and riding the subway late at night with that city film covering my face, listening to music loud on my headphones, staring at the blank faces of the other passengers. it’s the little things. it’s listening to loud new york men bitch at the bagel shop. it’s the blind homeless man with his transistor radio standing right outside the train. it’s the feeling of walking through the lower east side and greenpoint, feeling like another me lived there long ago. it’s the sense of community i never felt so strong as i did in new york. i miss it with all my heart. i even miss the effort of lugging laundry to the laundromat two blocks away and buying groceries at the bodega. oh nostalgia, you grip me hard. i like it….