From a loud cafe playing Ozzie…

I’m writing this blog on my phone because it’s the only thing to pull me out of the exhausted haze I’m in. In a cafe to escape my apartment oven. It’s loud in here and I hate the noise. I don’t want to listen to Ozzie full blast among all the summer bodies, doors clanging, steem wafting…but I cannot escape. This is my life right here and now. Wailing Ozzie and the novel Steppenwolf that makes me sleepy when I attempt to read it, though I want to read it badly. It’s hard to focus in here and my mind hurts and I’m craving silence but outside feels sticky and hazy like my brain. Where am I? Come here, now. Now. Here. Humans with books, laptops, coffee, tea, beer, sandwiches, glasses and plates. Oh, moment, I’m sorry but I crave to be somewhere else. I don’t want this anymore. I want to be new and somewhere new. But I can appreciate this too. Air conditioning cools my balmy skin. Loud music sucks the sorrow out of me. I’m not up to my old stories again. The summer is dying. The old me is dying. My love is dying too. Old love, that is. The kind of love that hangs on to sand castles and travels like the wind. This heart that beats inside this skin is passionate and scarlet red. I couldn’t pretend to be anything less. Like the glowing neon R of the beer sign I see before me. Like the melting ice in the cold brew coffee I’m drinking. Wait. Melting ice is not passionate, not one bit. Melting ice is that other part of me speaking. I wish to melt away into nothingness. I am melting under Shiva’s fire. Ozzie is unconscious medicine. No edit on this one. Not even a read through. It is what is and I am see-through. 

sunday declarations after saturday rejuvenation…

yesterday was exactly what i needed to recharge my soul. long slow yoga session in the morning after waking up extra early brought my mind back to my body. brought me back to equanimity after a fiery anxious week using every ounce of management skills to stay balanced. walked in a steady rain to the cafe to read the red book and was taken deep into my heart. jung’s words strike the chords of my true essence. ran some errands and came home to paint. was joined by a person i know from the inside out. it was so much fun to paint together and to talk about the real stuff on levels he and i always go to with ease. truth. goals. intimacy. attachment styles. understanding avoidance and disorganization. finding our way to the center. the secret passage way we’ve all forgotten. how it doesn’t have to be so hard. praying for miracles. walking out of the cave. the grey clouds are rolling fast across the dark mountains this morning. i am at an impasse with painting. the hunger is to paint huge abstracts in a whirlwind of right brained spewing in a messy basement or art studio. but instead i use my little canvas and cheap paints in a small corner of my apartment, trying to get away from form. i am sick of painting forms. i want messy and emotional hints at form. i want freedom from the solid lines. i want low brow unconscious unleashing. i want heart speak. i know what i want with paint but not with romantic love on the outside. i know what i want inside. equality and differentiation, compassion and empathy, fun and passion, lust and love, compatibility and ease to contrast the work that comes with developing intimacy. i do not know what he looks like, who he is, what he does, how he dresses. i have no types, i don’t care. there are no more pedestals and no more illusions. i am knee deep in contemplations about intimacy. i feel my intimacy longing like a tight rope walker wishing to be a deep sea swimmer. appreciating my longings and being me. not allowing this world and all of these shadows to demolish the sacred essence that is impervious to the erosion of time and dramatics of our collective story. pain is part of love. i am loving from the inside out. i don’t care about your body and how it looks, i care about your heart and how you feel. i honor what you honor though, even if i don’t honor it (unless you honor harm and then i retract my honor and focus on the medicine). i am not about obtaining gold stars of strength anymore, i am about nestling into silver baths of vulnerability. showing up in this messiness is the strength. hairy and emotional is this person i am. animal is this experience. flawed is this heart. open is this being.

rising flames of passion and change…

yesterday was imbolc but i forgot and no wonder i was so fiery and idealistic, triggered and hungry for change. hungry for humanity as much as hungry for myself to experience cessation from emotional pain. figuring out how to play the game in a way that challenges me to let go of life long insecurities. facing what i have resisted. was so tired from the day that i passed out by nine pm. everything inside of me is changing rapidly. my cells feel like they are going through a spin cycle. my brain feels like scrambled eggs. the fire in my belly sometimes rises sky high all at once and i find myself ranting. next minute i am soft as a flower petal again, discovering the root to why the fire just rose. what i know is that each time i feel something painful for myself i feel it for all people. there is no boundary because i know you feel it too. not everyone feels what i feel. we are all very archetypal. but groups of us relate in various ways. i am in the group of people who are uber sensitive energetically. we feel the entirety of ┬áperson’s being all at once and the entirety of a spaces and places all at once. many of us sensitives also tend to be insecure, shy, and introverted at the same time. feeling so much at once while also feeling the introversion is intense. the impact is potent and takes time for me to adjust to new environments and people. sometimes the adjustment time does not honor what i need and then i must evaluate if it would be best to stand up for myself or see if i can move faster for the good of the order. here my learning edge flares. when to say no and when to say yes. would love to move past this one, so gotta be on the ball and not shrink from the lesson. i will try to move faster for the good of the order and if i cannot do so with integrity, i will speak up. the lesson trails off into a contemplation about social justice. how the system forces us all into patterns that are not nourishing to the soul. i do not treat the soul as an afterthought. it is number one in my book. this causes me to want to do something about the system and not just vent about it. she said the system is broken and i feel that too. also i feel i could be involved in helping to mend it through pragmatic means. people change, he said over skype. i could do work that is different than anything i have ever wanted to do in the past. i could be involved in ways i never saw coming. people do change. i feel this calling inside….i just feel it…and it looks very different than the person i have been. there is a joy in acknowledgment. even if callings are about walking into what is scary, there is still joy. he reminded me of two essentials. to speak up if i need to and that no part of me has to die just because another part is birthing. i can be empowered and juggle the factions of self. logic settled the fire in my heart that sometimes wishes to burn too hot. though some parts of self may take a back seat for a while as new parts needs extra tending. crap…i still have not bought paint. no desire to create. i must bust through this, it’s like not exercising, it’s like quicksand. i need to take action against the atrophy. i ought to force myself to the art store and paint tonight. my fiery heart needs art. art is my only outlet right now…for the passion…

anchoring in words at six am…

coming to the page (or screen) first thing in the morning to find my root because my entire system feels confused. a tornado inside of anxiety and fear, being in the unknown and doing things differently from the inside out. came home last night and all i could do was zone out to medicinal binaural beats to get my nervous system to calm down. after that, watch videos. self care solitude to let my body know everything is ok right now. the somatic responses were high tide yesterday. my sensitivity levels feel like they are always high tide and this is why i wear stones all over my body, need to hermit to replenish, listen to binaural beats, do yoga, say my incantations, work the soul. my self care is off the hook but it sure takes up all of my time. soon this will shift. it’s like watching the collective react to the current affairs. a swell of anger and anxiety rises from the deep bowels of the unconscious. this is stage one. in stage one reactivity floods the conscious landscape as the old security blanket of semi or full avoidance lifts. we had gotten used to a leader who made things better as much as things are made worse and it seemed good enough when used to thousands of years of oppression. put this to your own head. who is the leader of my own being? my head? my heart? my ego? my soul? i put my soul in the driver’s seat long ago and slowly, the regime of the ego has been falling. but it takes a while. only now, twenty years after the regime switch of my being, have i fully surrendered into walking into my calling without resistance. years of mistreatment leads to warped perceptions. i could not have done this five years ago. i do feel different a lot of the time and i don’t like the feeling. i know many of us feel this way. i am not alone. the feeling of aloneness is divisive. i am not apart from my fellow brothers and sisters. i cannot fully explain what i mean, this morning. i am in some liminal space in between sense making. today is a brand new day for reasons i do not wish to speak of here. a brand new day makes me think about oranges and apples for some reason. lets take this trail down to the unconscious: oranges and apples, school, shame, spiders, basements, dirt, death, cold earth, silence. wow, that was grim. so be it. let the feelings and associations flow out easy like a gentle river…

early morning whatever…

i don’t know what to say. run out of ways to communicate in blog. tired from managing anxiety all weekend but had a good weekend, blah blah blah. rewrote my autobiography yesterday, at least a rough draft, because i cannot look back on the old one. wow, how different i am from the person i was one year ago. getting used to writing in cafes on my days off again, in preparation for school papers. still confused about where to live and maybe looking at a studio this evening on the hill. still on the hill? feeling lost and wanting to be found. showing up with love is all i know how to do. let the fears reveal themselves and pulsate through. take this journey into the unknown and thank uni for the support and the smashing of the ego throne. grad school blues. beautiful blues. deep blues. deep wisdom. deep understanding. indigo awareness. self love as happiness. psychology talk through and through. there is no going back to the land of capriciousness. we used to fly by the seat of our pants hoping it would all work out until we realized it wouldn’t if we kept rolling that way. we used to live in shells and eat too much butter. there are days that are olden now. renaming the golden girls to match who we will be when we retire. the amethyst lights. the turtle shells. the sky is still black from night time not wearing off yet. thankful i am a morning person. now, to get on the mat even though i don’t want to. the power to say no and the power to say yes. i am far away from my dreams these days. far away from jungian analysis and the depth lens. it’s all narrative, all somatic, and all spiritual all the time. re-write, breathe, and devote. surrender and commit, these are the two words, the ticket, the compromise, and the calling all rolled into one. we laughed on skype all night long. laughter the benefit and medicine. onward…

waxing philosophical…

at times i have nothing to say and i am all feeling. forcing the writing. overwhelm is happening though i don’t have anxiety. just being present with change and no change. change: career, country, identity, lifestyle, family. no change: home and soul. i live in a dusty box in the sky permanently channeling the other dimensions alone and i want to land in a warm home on the ground with a partner and animals. everything else is in massive flux. i wonder, what the outcome would have been if the march happened before the election? looking back to ponder an alternate reality is unnecessary. i wonder, how will the surfacing shadow heal us all? i feel positive about the outcome though the road will challenge the heart on every level. i feel love underneath as the root. i feel divine meaning percolating beneath surface appearances. anger is not in me these days. only love and sorrow. showing up is our task. all of our tasks if we choose to be a part of transforming the shadow into love. what does it look like to not avoid or escape through blame or living in a la la la land of delusion? to own our own shadow so we stop feeding the one externalized before us who threatens like a big bad monster. we have forgotten the power source within, me included. we are waking up and it’s like getting a cast of a leg you haven’t walked on in months. takes time to build strength. the tricky part is that nobody can do it alone. we need each other. the march showed the solidarity possible. a sign that perhaps this time the transformation can take place. we may be able to transform the shadow into love. i am using the word transform a lot in this blog because i am convinced this is the action. we cannot make the shadow vanish by killing it, avoiding it, pretending it doesn’t exist, acting like we are all good and have nothing to do with it. we must own our own and come together in packs of strong willed love. love is not fluff. love is power. oh words, if only you could penetrate the helplessness. can you? what do my shadows on the cave wall look like? avoidance and helplessness are two of them. we are all going to die. this earth game is temporary no matter how hellish or heavinish life rolls in waves that are not in our control. sometimes no matter how much you want something, you just don’t get it. sometimes life is a test of faith and love among what appears to be poverty. sometimes love is the only prosperity available. how we respond to life is up to you and up to me. this is the lonesome part of the journey. no human will ever understand my own journey the same way i do and vice versa. it’s a trip how we are born and die alone. how only the person can feel what it is like to be the person. me-ness is very real. i don’t shun the me-ness and pedestalize oneness or collective identity. i don’t shun oneness and collective identity while pedestalizing me-ness. both are sacred. temporary is sacred too. life is a dance between polarities. why am i philosophizing? i ought to pay more attention to the ants i discovered on the space heater…

post-storm after thoughts…

yesterday was intense for me and the country. so many woman (and men) marched in resistance to the new leader. i wasn’t shocked, it was as if i lived through it already. sometimes i get like that. women will be the ones who make the change, is the line always going through my head. i say this with pure love for men and women. in my belief the patriarchy destroys men as much as women. men are raped of their emotional bodies and women of their physical. it’s not so black and white but that’s a gist of how i see it. yet women will be the ones to rise up and lead this time because we have been enslaved by men, made property, and objectified by men and this is about empowerment within the larger story of disempowerment for both sexes. men have been able to treat us this way because they are robbed of their emotional bodies which causes them to see us as objects because they have lost touch with their inner feminine force and project this loss onto us by making us objects. women have lost touch with our inner masculine energy and this shows up as a loss of power that we project onto men by giving up our power or not knowing that we have it, believing the dominant cultural story. every human being is has both feminine and masculine energy coursing through, no matter what sex the body is. the loss of balance of these two forces is a root cause of disease the same way the body can only hold disease if the ph balance is off. i don’t mean to be reductionist, only explaining a certain aspect. division is a complicated game and a masterful art that has been running the show for a long time. how to unite our differences and be one human race with distinctions that don’t cause a loss of power? how to become equals while still maintaining what is different about us in gender, sex, color, culture, religion? we did a powerful exercise yesterday in school, gestalt style. what does power and the healing of power look like using only our bodies to show it? no words. no definitions. no left brain. my heart understood on a deeper level. the enslavement of the entire human race is real because the entire system is corrupt and hence all power within is corrupt. yet this does not disqualify how awful it feels to not have power within the corrupt system. to not have shelter, freedom to vote, freedom to choose, this is as real as the deeper understanding that the entire system is against all of us. all day i did not feel good physically and felt detached mentally. in the car ride home i balled my eyes out, finally. i cried for my own intense story i am going through in life right now and probably for the entire world, as i tend to cry snowballs when the tears storm like they did last night. fire and water are my elements right now. fire and water. we all rise up and face what we fear. we face the oppression. we face the loss of rights that has always been present since the beginning of culture as we know it. i remember a time when humanity had rights. this story lives in my imagination. but life keeps on going deeper into the shadow now and i am rising up, rising up…to meet the challenge. what about you?