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. 

in the midst of chaos…

i am seeing my narrative so strong. last night it showed me her face in the light of the dark throng i was thrust into from looking at an apartment in bellevue. it’s too much and too personal to put into blog, but i can say cryptically: when all you have known is one world, it is very difficult to get yourself into a new world. when all you have known is one author, how to do you hire a new one? when you were born into a certain shadow that never lifted, how do you bring yourself to the light? well, that last part i know. i know i am doing it. being human is humbling. you can work on yourself for years on end and puff up with attachment to the progress you have made only to slink back into where you started from years ago, in one night, just because you are not getting what you want on the outside. meaning: who are you when you don’t get what you want in life? i dive from hot pool to cold pool. from pleasure to pain. from a spiritual practice to psychological awareness. from reaction to response. from grace to ooze. i am a master acrobat, tumbling toward death. aren’t we all? breaking up the old pattern by having a friend stay with me a little, by looking at apartments by malls, by dancing. i miss dancing already. in my perfect world i am dancing all the time. i am on fire inside. i want more music, more dancing, more art, more freedom to express this crazy life. i embrace my desire. reading jung is like reading alice like reading emerson like reading anais like reading henry like reading the light and reading the love. it’s not as hard as i am making it but the serious deep mind is how they are too and meant to be. no design flaw. i am steeping in the polar opposites of psychoanalysis and narrative therapy. the former shows me the tricks i play on myself. the latter is honor given to the creature whose despair was created by relationships and in the relational field, not from within. you don’t want to locate the problem within when it is in the relational field that wounds were created. what you wanna locate within is the way the psyche digests the wound and embodies it, and work on that. still trippin on her insight that i identify with the wounds i carry and seeing it come to light. of course i call myself the shadow of the shadow i fell into too young to remember the age that became a life long series of painful experiences that have not turned into light yet. like turning over a steak on the grill. that meat was killed with cruelty and you eat it like it’s delicious and nothing else. if that doesn’t prove how powerful the mind is…well then. my mind is rich. when i said to him in the car it is about relationships, i knew it so sharp and clear, as if i knew my psyche would steer me right into a factory farm afterward. there i was, being beaten by an angry worker, a mere cow to be turned into death and a hamburger. this is how dark a scorpio can go. my narrative is spiced with demons. i am not afraid of these inclinations. what scares me are those who only want victory and light. who only can handle smiles and the kiddy pool. but i gotta have my time in the sun too. psychotherapy can turn to poison in an instant. it is not in the head we heal, it is in the head we clarify. in the heart we understand. the healing is in the body. my body is so tired. i got an emotional hangover this morning. many tears. all brought upon by looking at this apartment in bellevue. all brought upon by a dark narrative that i am being ripped away from my home and plunked into a foreign land. it’s gotta feel right and when it doesn’t chaos is molting the old personality still. right now i cannot comprehend if my narrative is creating my reality or my reality is creating my narrative. sometimes direction scrambles. everybody is going ballistic with the election too. i am not astonished. why do i accept the utter terror of who is ruling this land and yet am still shocked by my own darkness? more jung. read more jung. not in a simple mind-set i am. not in an easy to solve mode. not a tadpole squirming in a puddle. give me complicated, deep, messy, all encompassing, rich complex heady love. this is who i am and how i roll and pretty soon this stone will turn to dust….

gemini moon chattery…

for a gemini moon i am not feeling very chatty today. not sure what to say in blog. not sure what i care about specifically this morning. feeling removed from language. in a more imagistic space. seeing myself in my new metaphorical house on a raft in the sea with a single oar. seeing life beyond death and remembering why i am here. zoomed out. i dunno. i feel really dense this morning. really quiet. like a rock. like a river rock. i am forcing myself to write words to keep the practice of writing going. interesting how public blog makes me do it. is my motivation. interesting what makes each of us tick. how some people really think they are right. all the times i really thought i was right. the insidious nature of prejudice embedded inside language. my longing for us all to be free from the belly of the whale. to awaken. to shed the skin. how my grad school program forces me to keep looking at myself in this most specific of ways, like i am living inside a petri dish. how i am task mastering. the brain is growing. the body is slowly decaying. is it? what if the sun did not rise one day? feeling surreal is what it is. went to bed feeling surreal too. often times i feel surreal. i feel like something much bigger than michelle stuffed inside this michelle life. i feel like it’s the first time i have been incarnated. slept heavy and dreamed about mundane things like portion control and driving. my dreams polarizing conscious zoomed out-ness. thinking much about the bodhisattva vows. it is easy for me to love those who commit harm and are cruel. what is hard for me is to detach from pleasure and from the things i want. such as a loving relationship, comfortable home, and a sense of accomplishment for myself. the key is not to ignore, resist, or refuse….just detach a little. to stay awake is to feel the hunger to bring love to forgetting hearts in every moment. this is being present. the wants and luxuries come second. i am not talking anything fundamental here, more the desires beyond basic needs being met. we all have our paths. this is mine. i am considering that i don’t need romantic love as much as i desire it. meaning, can i detach and focus on the act of loving everyone i greet in a day? you see, this is all my mind crafting ways to obtain self mastery, which is the deepest longing of all, in order to bring light to the shadows. it’s much harder when you are living the difficulty versus thinking about the difficulty. or wait, it might be the other way around? i am such a pleasure seeker and a parter oriented creature. i don’t judge myself for it. simply observing. there is no design flaw and no arrival point in life. i am no longer attempting to free myself of the pain of soul hungers unmet or wounds…nor am i identifying with pain in any form. mastery is not an arrival point either, it is a drive deep within the authentic self. it is the gasoline for this body. i am talking heady now. here is the gemini moon at last, gripping my brain. now to change the subject in true gemini form. i love flowers. i love colors. i love scents. i love fire. i love the sea. this world is so beautiful and rich. thank you life, for bringing earth to me….

monday hope…

dreamed i moved into an apartment large enough to bring my yellow table, carpeted, and with a tiny bathroom made entirely of wood. also dreamed about complicity, being asked about it, and how much i was willing to participate. giving honest answers in the dream, i felt icky i wasn’t doing more. this culture is so complicit. the injustice of workers making the cheap threads on my body, using plastic, animal holocaust, on and on. it pains me each day and my goal is to keep taking action steps versus dwelling in sorrow about it. one reason i would like to make more money is to afford to buy local or humanely made everything. the reason i would also like to have more money is to have the means to start some kind of organization to help make bridges between the rich and poor in services that bring healing and with products that are made humanely. i think i dreamed about carpet because for me, carpet is comfort. i want to sprawl out on the floor of my home. the wooden bathroom thought in my dream was, “this will be so easy to clean.” i have to be honest, one of the reasons i want to be in a partnership, is help pay for life. spitting rent and bills would allow me to buy a car so i could live outside the city with ease. though i also want to domesticate because i have a love for it too. i want to cook yummy meals for us not just me. the little things mean so much. a good morning kiss is richer than gold. the longing is what it is. climbing up this mountain is what it is. life is what it is. life is hard and easy, depending and fluctuating. reading about narrative therapy has me externalizing problems and finding some relief through it, though i also feel my unconscious at work, manifesting the dramas of life. i know both are true. i see through all the lenses. underneath is a shadow that i claim. a desire for power and feelings of shame exist. not embarrassed to admit this. i am just like you but a unique version. we all want the same things in different blueprints of it. freedom, comfort, pleasure, unity, happiness. we all don’t want oppression, lack, pain, unhappiness. it’s not rocket science. narrative therapy soothes the part of the shadow wanting to blame. if i rewrite my story without the shadow authoring, what do i see? incredible triumph and love bigger and stronger than anything. it dawned on me yesterday that i need to get back to the softness i once possessed before warrior mode took hold three years ago. i need to return to soft me in order to be the new person i am becoming. soft me upgraded. the warrior protects the empath. all of the anger from stagnation and burn-out from healing work is fading away now. i am feeling a glimpse of the new me, even though i am still not she. a glimpse of sun. learning right now how to walk through dark hallways with no astonishment. i mean, so what if i am disappointed. life is highly disappointing a lot of the time. all this astonishment about the horribleness of the world that happens, is my mirror for looking within. i am not astonished at all about world stuff. society has not been a friendly, just, or a loving place ever. why would it astonish me that cruel acts keep happening? never does. if society suddenly became fair, monsanto and the like killed itself, prejudice in every form died, fundamentalist attitudes about spirituality dissolved, personal freedom was treasured and protected among our leaders and by laws, all people were truly treated as equals by everybody, and natural resources were moderated while new ones being invented rose to the surface for public use….well… i would be astonished! happily astonished. reacting is up to me every time i do it, and it’s taken me a long time to be in control of my reactions. it feels relieving to be in control of my emotions. i choose to let feelings out safely with honor. i choose to respond to others with care and strong boundaries. i see the guru in each person that lives behind their hurt creating reactivity. there is a light in every soul. this perception is richer than any amount of dollars. dollars count too, i am all inclusive, but i got my priorities down. the sky is bright blue this monday morning. hope is alive…

from tangent to tangent she swings…

listening to solfeggio frequencies this morning. feeling…i don’t know. not doing yoga for three days makes me feel like the old me. the me that woke up soft and undefined every morning. a leaf gently floating toward death in an autumn breeze, dandelion fuzz carrying a child’s wish, light sparkling on the surface of the sea…all things barely brushing the physical. is this why my muscles are dense like an athlete or why i hold extra weight in my tummy? don’t know, don’t care. my heart is tender right now. i keep wanting to say “as fuck” with everything. tender as fuck. wafty as fuck. this is because it’s the new catch phrase buzzing through youth’s collective. written it is: AF. tender AF. wafty AF. i keep stopping myself from saying and writing this. i don’t like how it feels. it feels like a snotty kid. i don’t want to communicate like a snotty kid. snotty AF. hahaha. anyhow. the sky is hybrid this morning. half blue and half grey. exactly as i feel inside. i find myself being sucked ┬áinto solitude. was alone last night and probably will stay alone today and tonight. there are friends i would like to see but the vortex of aloneness is a strong brew. not sure what to do. it’s me being the leaf again. waiting to see who will catch me. want to do grocery and farmer’s market shopping, finish my painting, read for school and jot down more notes for a paper, take out the trash, take a pair of pants to the alterations place, check places on craigslist…all ordinary stuff. i am craving autumn immensely. i want to wear jackets and scarves. i want to drink from warm mugs and read all cozied up on couches. i want to feel magic in the air as the goddess makes her way back down the stairs to the underworld. i love underworld season. i miss the sea. i am craving the sea too. not much else to say. my mind is on pause cause every time i hit the play button it is same ole same ole-ville. i don’t want to imprint the same ole stories about men, dating, being a student, lessons, etc. i am sick of everything i think i know and ready to know new again. i am the goddess walking down the stairs into the underworld. it is a peaceful place when you are no longer afraid. the river styx is dazzling to gaze into. the sky changes shades constantly, from blue to yellow to purple to even red sometimes. many creatures roam about that look nothing like the ones we are used to in the middle world. hades is a great guy. he enjoys watching the middle world and reflecting upon existence over cups of pomegranate tea. people give him a bad rap like he’s evil or something, but that’s just projection. we humans are masters of projection, as if owning our own shadow would kill us. actually, it’s refusing to own our own shadow that is needlessly killing too many humans…but anyways…

dripping faucet blog…

i am listening to binaural beats as i type this, all nine solfeggio frequencies. i find this to be extremely powerful medicine for me. the sky is grey today, i love it. got two candles lit on either side of my laptop. incense is burning. coffee is warming my tummy. woke up a 6 am again. i prefer early morning peace to start my day. yesterday was the full moon in pisces. i am working on a painting i hope to finish today. started reading a book on narrative therapy, passion ablaze. art and psychology are where my interests spark right now the most. metaphysics feels tired and boring for me lately. i am sick of the same ole story of astrology. let me sum it up for you: let go of karma, feel the feelings, use sudden change to innovate, tension between going for what you want and having to surrender, limits and dreams playing tennis, be detailed and purify, now expand through relationships, be your true self, see your projections. blah blah blah. i think why narrative therapy has my heart right now is because the founders used philosophy to create a new psychological model that took problems outside the skin of the human. i don’t want to use up blog to explain it, but i dig it. though i am no extremist. i like to blend the polarities. hence i will blend psychoanalysis and narrative therapy polarities in my style. hybrid everything. am i really moving to bellevue? change of direction. i am not attached to my lifestyle all that much. to be honest, i have outgrown it. i am bored with city life as much as i am bored with metaphysics. let me break it down for you: show up at a place looking fashionable around other people looking fashionable. do a bunch of talking. listen to music. look at art. eat and drink. share your preferences and aversions. walk on concrete. ha, i love my snarky summing up. it’s quite irreverent. no worries, it’s only a mood. i love metaphysics, i love the city. i could do the same for me. let me try to sum it up for you. me: deep thinking and talking. tons of crystals on the body and in the home. finding balance with everything under the sun. facing fears. lots of moods. seeing objectively. feeling everything. always in the flow. ha! same ole same ole. i think there might be some longing turning into flatness inside. like a soda left out in the rain with the cap off. like lana del rey standing outside of 7-11 waiting to be picked up by a stranger in the ride video. like being so zoomed out i see my death through the eyes of somebody who is grieving me. like the cliche saying i told ya so. like the comfort of the sun rising, even through the thick smokey grey morning. i dunno. i am loosening my grip. letting words drip. finding sanctuary in the poetic like a chocolate dipped cone. contain me. wrap me up tight and tell me to stay put. i am not the wind. i am not the wind. tension makes it grow. up through cement the trunk of a tree bursts. mother earth is stronger, you know. extra long blog, extra sugar free gum. twins on bicycles. stream of thoughts. a blue room. sitting alone. the tiniest lasagna made in three minutes on facebook. oh yeah, i got back on facebook but so far i am in control. this crazy techno world that is evil and positive at the same time. i hate the word evil because of the mood it creates. blood and guts spilled over so many lands due to the hands of just a few. why? don’t ask why. meaning-making cleanse. alright then. let me end this thing. let me stop telling me how it goes…

wild horse, dream shedding, blue mood…

sadness leaving my family. pms makes is more so. tenderness. ache that cannot be solved. will force myself into the mat before leaving on a jet plane because i have to pull strength out of this soul. overwhelm right now. many changes and fear facing happening at once. doing it alone and unsure what the future holds. uncertainty. out of the comfort zone. i am on the journey. strange to move to the east side, although comforting because of the way i feel over there. perhaps getting back to the familiar roots of suburbia will be grounding through all of this change. moods wash over me. texting with a friend last night, she shares this particular mood with me. thankful to not feel alone in it. this mood i cannot talk about in blog, it would worry people. when you feel all your feelings at maximum volume it tends to scare the crap out of most people. i have learned how to contain it and let it out safely in ways that don’t make other people uncomfortable. i am a wild horse on the inside. a large force on the inside. have tamed myself throughout the years. the saddle of emotional awareness, bridle of emotional control, reigns of emotional navigation, the rider is a story teller. sometimes the rider gallops into the dark forest. she just does. i long for dawn though, i long for dawn. i long to sing a song on stage in a small wooden bar or bar type place. a night room. i long to express this life in non-clinical and non-left brained ways. i feel the death of dreams like snake shedding. an abandoned nest perches itself on a branch. it was here last time i visited too. had to unfollow and unfriend him because i love too much and seeing his posts sunk my love like a stone. it hurt to do it but self care needed to come first. learning to put me first has been one of the hardest lessons i have learned in this life. it’s a lesson of the feminine. the lesson of the masculine is to learn to put others first. both feminine and masculine live inside me. the masculine is going to grad school and climbing mountain peaks. the feminine is the artist longing to love. it is what it is beyond any descriptions too. to be human is to describe, though. to have a mind, is to label. so over black and white thinking. i am not this or that. i am a little bit country and a little bit rock and roll. marie osmond is a new role model, speaking of. paper flowers i have received a lot of, sigh. keep riding that wild horse home…