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 dribbling….

full moon tomorrow. this is the full moon i am returning to my essence and doing ritual again after not doing it for a long time. i am feeling the call back to my pantheistic practices as i awaken the trickster back up within me after a long sleep. dreamed about being with a man again last night. this time, money and time made it difficult to be together. we had to work a lot. i needed to put a down payment on a house. something like that. every night i am dreaming of being with a partner. not sure why, if it’s premonition or desire. sick of writing my paper at this point. wanting it to be over. wanting what is new. my mom is doing well and hope is alive and real. the sky is still dirty with smoke. i feel tired and weary this morning. it’s ok. lots of inspiration has occurred too. many dreams are waking up. my heart feels close to the earth and sinking into honey or becoming like dew. i am sure there are thoughts wanting into my head but i am not letting them through because i am containing myself in the viscous goo of the present moment. i am animal. i am touching everything because everything is connected. computers are alive too but science yet doesn’t understand that sentience does not only come from sex and bodies. it can come from hands and mind too. what am i saying? who cares. too much, too soon. ride with the slow tide. be a tad pole and a turtle….muddle through….

notes from pluto and mars, lit by the full moon….

i don’t even know what to say. so many emotions are coming out of this body and storming through this psyche. i just did a full moon mars sun opposing moon pluto thing by bringing my emotional reactivity down into the shadow and allowing my shadow to express her full on reactivity, which of course, is rooted in childhood, not the present. it is scary and intense to go there, as the body knows no time in its memory and feels things the way the child felt them. but this time, i brought my ego consciously down with me to the shadow and when i tapped the root of reactivity, my ego advocated for the hurt little shadow girl. only took about two minutes. so fast. once i expressed the shadow’s child like hurt and the ego advocated, i felt better and no longer reactive. my reactivity transformed into peace and understanding. i can see from this experience how mars sun cancer is totally an emotional advocate of nurturing. it wants to protect and care for the hurt places inside that pluto moon. but it can only do that by journeying to pluto moon. only through reactivity from some present conflict happening does the path to the underworld’s hurt shadow child become clear. in this way, reactivity is a map to the treasure chest. let the full moon begin. learning learning learning. when i am learning and mentally engaged i feel a happy sense of purpose. i am still on this trip about how we all get our meaning-making vitality from different elements. some of us find meaning making vitality in the mental narrative, in air. that would be me (my chart is mostly air, too). some people experience it in connecting with nature, in earth. some people discover it in doing and accomplishment, fire. some people find it in heart, feeling, loving, in water. it’s not just one element we derive vitality from and it can change too. all of the above. just really paying attention to what element of meaning-making raises my life force and gives me vitality, right now in my life, as i face an unspeakable grief and journey through surrender. always seeking balance…

gemini new moon horrid grossness…

today is the new moon in gemini. feeling a bit sluggish this morning. tired. much going on in the world and in my head. i don’t feel like blogging, would rather keep quiet instead. staring at the keys forcing words to bleed. ladeeda. slept heavy and raw. oh yeah, that’s right, last night i had my reoccurring nightmare. it’s been years since i had this dream and i thought it was over. in these reoccurring nightmares i shit out of my mouth. i know. it’s disgusting and horrid. i feel the same way in the dream. disgusted and horrified as shit keeps coming up and and out, not stopping, getting stuck in my all my teeth…in lasts night’s dream it was like cereal shaped too, little pieces. i was supposed to be in an intern meeting but it was a weird place. everyone was sitting on the floor in the dark. some woman held me and it felt like i was being held by the goddess, like being supremely nurtured. then i left and was walking in the freezing rain barefoot, wondering if i had gone insane because i had no shoes on and the cold wasn’t bothering me. i think this part of the dream spawned by seeing a barefoot young homeless mentally ill man on the street last night. i was walking behind him. he struck me. anyhow, the shitting out my mouth began shortly after i was walking barefoot in the cold. or before it, i don’t recall. but now i recall that i stepped in a puddle and sank in deep up to my knees. it was night time. i was stuck in ice cold rain water and trying to pull myself up with not much success, yet i was not trying that hard, i barely had any energy. no wonder i feel sluggish this morning. the entire dream was a picture of me losing my grace, sanity, purity, and being enslaved by an endless stream of cereal shaped shit forcing it’s way out of my mouth. can’t get more shadowy than this dream. what does this mean, gemini new moon? i will need to pull cards. i feel disturbed. no time to do a practice before work. better post this so i can at least pull cards before i head out. strange days….

ode to chris, heart, weakness and all the feelings…

can’t stop listening to chris cornell’s music and watching every video on youtube. i am grieving this man so much and i don’t understand why because i never listened much to his music but now i am, and my heart breaks for his death. today was such a sensitive day all around. i lost composure inside. i experienced transference today that brought up a whole bunch of shame and made me feel exactly how i felt as a little girl. it’s like, today i had no filters over my heart. i still feel this way. i am overwhelmed with feelings that are only finding an outlet through chris cornell’s music. very old things i am feeling. i am all heart and no head. i don’t want a fancy analysis or intellectual reason. there is nothing to solve or fix, only surrender and more surrender. i understand how the birth of defiance inside of me is a result of not being able to use my authentic voice and ask for what i need. the voice of chris cornell is powerful and strong. his voice lives on. his masculine kind soul and shadows abound. i feel them inside of me too. the clean lines blur and the ego houses fall and crumble. i am all over the place tonight but i am just sitting on my couch listening and watching this man, feeling my heart melt like butter in a frying pan. want the sense of humor to return. want to laugh and lighten. it is all ok, no matter what, even when the worst happens and there is no going back. his soul is doing something as great out there as it was here, and yet it’s not about greatness. it’s not about being big, right, sure, bright, or anything without the weakness of life. i honor the weakness of life. i honor my own weakness. i can feel my own weakness so strong tonight. i can see how i run and hide, avoid and create illusions around people too. i am not the only one, i am not the only dreamer, i not the only person running from what still blazes inside as if time never passed. i wish i could have been a singer by profession. i wish i could have spent my years belting out to audiences from the raw soul. i should have liked to never need my intellect to prove anything. only some of us get to do exactly what we want. he opens my longing like a flute. all of the death and weakness in me cries out too. i cry out too. this is just a mood. weather passing on through. the air is cooling and the night is approaching and i feel it might be hard to hit the sack. i am alive with desires and loss of composure. i feel like a little gold fleck in a large black night. can we hold our natures like sweet birds in the heart? i want to hold your nature like a sweet bird in my heart. god, i am just feeling so much tonight. i won’t edit this. there needs to be a quiet little public space to admit what i am feeling….

getting the weekend out on monday morning…

monday is here again. i have not interacted with anybody since friday evening, except to order coffee or pay for something at a store. solitude city. so much solitude that interacting will feel strange today for a minute. learning to jump from the cold pool to the hot pool and switch modes with grace. i needed the silence to get my paper done. sometimes being with others makes it too hard for me to focus and tap into my intelligence. i am so freakin sensitive. so sensitive that i found myself wide awake with insomnia saturday night feeling existential fear and sorrow. sometimes being alone at night, in my shabby abode, i feel alone in a way that terrifies me. i feel existentially alone. the things humans do to be human is very grounding. it’s grounding to sleep beside somebody at night. it’s grounding to cook and eat dinner with another and to check in with them each day. it’s grounding to take care of a pet. ground control to major tom. oh, but i have been on the ground. finished my work yesterday afternoon and spent all day in the park making art and laying in trees. summer is here and i think it’s here to stay. i gotta write a huge paper due mid-august but my goal will be to have sunday afternoons spent laying in trees and making art in the park. self care is extra vital right now as the world crumbles and i am pushed past my limit with school and the sorrow of being alone in a home that temporary with no future home in sight. scary. i feel fucking terrified for my future, to be quite honest. i don’t know how i am going to make it in this world, sometimes. i know i am beckoning my underworld journey, for my paper, and i suppose it is here, greeting me. hello shadow. fear, hello. just keep breathing through it. making art helps so much. there is this huge beautiful tree stump the size of a small studio, in the park. kids play on it. adults play on it. i sat on it and felt the tree both dead and alive at once. i drew the spirit of the tree mixed with the spirit of me. i found comfort in my death. i felt sorrow for chris cornell’s death. there was a memorial created in the park for him. i could feel his soul inside the sorrow of his fans. his death was likely an accidental suicide, due to taking too much ativan. he was young and close with his wife and kids, according to what i read. how devastated they must be. life can change in the blink, remember. your life mate could die in the blink. you could die in the blink. security is truly an illusion. the good thing about spending so much time alone in a rice and beans bohemian style fashion, is that i am not attached to what can go away in the blink. don’t get me wrong, i wanna get attached. i want to live a human life. but i am glad to form detachment before attachment, for round two. i am very attached to my parents, which is round one. i was very attached to my wounds for a long time. i know attachment well. i suppose, since summoning the shadow, i have been steeping in death. the shadow is not only what the ego cannot metabolize in terms of characteristics, but also what the ego cannot metabolize in terms of actions, such as death at any moment. maybe it’s sick, but i feel proud of my ability to enter the shadow boldly. i feel like a pioneer. pluto, planet of death, is right over my north node in the exact degree, house twelve. i take it to mean many things, and one thing is that pluto is asking me to surrender to what feels like lack in my life. it is not lack. it is a call to find fulfillment in house twelve matters, namely, unconditional love, compassion, spirit, oneness. it is abundance that i am without the temporal comforts of the human being and i do have some comforts. i have a roof, food, friends, education, and family. i have a lot. my culture teaches me that without a mate, a nice home, and plenty of money, i don’t have the goods. part of this has to do with identifying with my cultural baseline. anyhow, no more analyzing. time to get on the mat. routine routine routine…

deep red and unrelenting…

the pisces solar eclipse is having a powerful effect on me. i am beginning to understand the dream with krishna das in it. it’s a call back to my creative self and ingenuity to bring about the calling in a new way. a return to the soul-self. being part of a greek cult of women devoted to wisdom and art is about not seeking a mate right now in life, despite wanting a mate right now in life. it isn’t the right time and not sure when the right time will be. could be tomorrow, i suppose, but the right time best be with my gaze turned toward not looking for him because that neural pathway is ready to collapse and be done with, forever. i realize i am at a point in life where, if i devote to my calling, i can flourish. maybe a mate would create too much distraction? i don’t know. all i know is, i am tired of feeling myself drudge through life and feel tired from practical reality and the reality of this nation i live in. i need joy. i need inspiration. i need to be creative and i need to give. i cannot drudge through life. i cannot focus on desires not being met. i am having to learn how to transmute sexual into creative energy and hardship into inspiration. it’s s different ball game than working on equanimous mind. this game is more yang. takes will and passion. it’s about not expending all my energy energy in the emotional depths within or on the flat surface of sensual experiences. it’s about using the emotions and desires for something made of more quality and playing the long game. time is a-ticking. i wrote a bl0g yesterday and took it down cause it was about a man and it felt too personal. i don’t want to share too much about my personal life, but i will say that his return means something more than just my friend returning. i don’t know what exactly but it feels like the return of an alternate reality and coincides with the return of my creative calling. i’ve known him from lives before and in my soul. there is one life i am reminded of and perhaps bringing her back to me in this life is part of the significance i feel. not sure which country, but i lived some place either in south america or cuba. it was a life i lived of passion and heart ache, politics, music, dance. i died young yet fulfilled. my spirit in that life was deep red and unrelenting. i need to dance more often. i need to sing more often. i wont let the shadow loom over me and crush my spirit. we have this one life that we are us. i want to cherish my one life. i want to sing, dance, and express while i can and i want to serve the soul in all people too. the fight begins within. creating new neural pathways is hard. you gotta do what is not intuitive, as a friend shared with me. when you want to snack, do push-ups. when you want to lay on the couch, go for a walk. not all the time, but a good portion of it. like seventy five percent of the time, be different with the little things. the little things create the big things.