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.
taught the tower workshop last night while feeling very tower-y. i did not want to make sentences about anything because i did not want to make ideas concrete. i am feeling sensitive to people thinking they are right or better than others through whatever institution or compartmentalized version of an aspect of life. in the spiritual community i feel sensitive so much to this that i disclaim over and over, “this is just how i see the tower card,” or “this is my planetary correspondence to the card,” etc. all correspondences are written by humans. every bit of spiritual information is subjective even though the feelings are collective. the desire for unity creates a million stories. the act of liberation may happen through many different channels, using a variety of tools, creating many different narratives. there are no facts other than the fact that a person wants to heal or connect to the divine. i don’t like to get caught up in the idea of facts. i treat the idea of facts loosely. my strong impetus is to honor the individual’s choice for healing, for spiritual connection to the divine, or whatever the case may be. the only time i bring out my judgement hat and strong “no, this is not allowed” is when a belief brings harm, injustice, or injury to life. then everything about subjectivity and variety and no right or wrong is tossed out like confetti. you hurt another sentient life and i am a protector. end of story. otherwise, whatever works for you is my motto. i wish to bring this attitude to the new age world at all times and i do as a teacher. i am not above the student, i am only sharing how i connect and my experience, which is valuable and i know this by being a student. it’s always been a radical aspect of my personality to stand up for inner authority. i rebel heavily against all authoritarian thinking that leans toward externalizing the power source, all hierarchical thinking basically. i am devoted to personal choice, free will, and subjective myth making. i am devoted to life being a creative act. i stand up against this because creating any belief system that completely externalizes the power source, harms sentient life. last night i was feeling this strong as we talked about the tower and i felt uranus light up in my bloodstream. my relationship with the planets is palpable and intimate. i love the way uranus feels. his bold liberation tactics turn me on. he brightens up my imagination and fills me with courage, much more than mars. emergent learning. this is my other strong desire of late. i am not saying emergent learning is better or worse. it is a way to learn. the choices are endless when you get into the subtleties. these days i wake up and immediately tune into emergence, present moment, and getting my body more and more attuned to the planet by getting my mind out of the tower of thoughts it likes to live in, in order to meaning-make. don’t get me wrong, i love meaning-making and narrative. it is just that during the tower season, it is time to let go of meaning-making. or rather, it is time to meaning-make by letting go of meaning-making. fully coming into the creature experience is my protocol. this is a scary process for somebody who likes to build very tall towers of meaning. but here i am, on the ground, swishing coconut oil in my mouth, typing in the keys, preparing for my yoga practice next. talking to ruby last night and speaking of present moment, i realized i need to put more effort into making yoga a meditative experience. i have slacked. it is easy to zone out and make it just about strength, grace, and endurance, yet the whole point of yoga is to bring the mind to the body and fuse them. today i will practice this. i will move slower. my racing thoughts need to slow their roll and saunter with my languid body moving like a panther under a hot sun. or something along these poetic lines…
powerful weekend. sunday: breakfast with a lios friend brings deeper awareness. not only do i need to learn how to differentiate my energy among group, but i understood the leak, or reason why i lost myself at the last meeting. i was being visited by the devil archetype within, whom for me is quasimodo. i am teaching about the devil card tonight, so per usual, perfect timing. even though it’s been many years since i have experienced the shameful pariah feelings i used to experience in youth, at the last school conference that aspect came up from the unconscious and i did not recognize her. i only recognized the shy timid seven year old, not the ugliness and shame part. The ugliness and shame part is the devil, whom i call pan. it is the part of ourselves lodged deep in the unconscious where fear, shame, disgust, and forms of twisted lust dwell. my friend reminded me to be patient and accepting as this part comes up, and i felt that. this might be the first time i can face my inner devil without trying to push her away, change her, and pretend like she never happened. i don’t feel aversion to her. i am finally ready to be her friend. after the enlightening breakfast i walked to barjot hoping the owner would be there because his energy tends to unlock my writing block. i have been deeply blocked and i wanted to write a first person devil piece to read for the workshop. lucky me, he was there and fleetwood mac was playing loud (best music ever to write the devil piece to). the first draft came pouring out of me in a fury. i also felt the story of pan was returning to me. it is time to enter myth writing again. i cannot do healing work without the creative myth work. time to humble myself and return to the craft. writing the first draft exhausted me to such a degree i needed to come home and take a quick nap. next i went to pinebox to write a presentable draft to read for the workshop. take out the lengthier myth stuff, simmer it down to what is needed to understand the archetype. was great to talk with the bartender again and feel the old school vibe of the empty peaceful space. hadn’t been there in a long while. after i cleaned up the draft i wrote more from pan’s perspective. felt i could write for hours. i am so close to him inside. we are very dear friends. i understand him. again, taken down by fatigue from channeling i left in need of zoning out and crashing early to bed. saturday: great to work the counter with white cobra again. good times nostalgia unpacking stones. we hung out at solstice after, pulling cards, recommitting ourselves to writing. before hand talking a languid walk with katie through the rich people’s hood behind joe bar. the air felt tropical and cool on the skin. talked about the grand cross, letting go of rigid beliefs and patterns within. it all culminated for me sunday when i saw how i was still running from quasimodo and that it was this running from shame that shows up in unhealthy ways in my present life, mainly with losing myself. i literally get swallowed up by others without realizing it. now that i am committed to fully loving quasimodo, i know i will be able to transform this unhealthy pattern. i am healing the leakage so that i can remain whole. i am taking care of myself first, before others, my capricorn north node. by making myself strong, clear, and bright, i can provide for others. i am meant to be father not mother, in this lifetime. i am meant to provide knowledge and guidance, not care take. i am learning….
last night at work an old familiar feeling possessed me. i felt sad, scared, and overwhelmed all at once. i found myself longing to live near my blood family and feeling guilty for not being near them. as a rain storm pounded itself down outside the window, so did one inside my heart. i felt fear that the world was about to come crashing down, that the grid would go out, and a catastrophe would hit. i felt sad that i had to go home alone. i wanted to be rescued by a white knight. i wanted to go home and find refuge in our safe and solid home i could rely upon for years to come. tenderness and femininity flared strong in my blood. talked it all out with ruby as i observed the feelings. found refuge in spirit within and walked home in the pouring rain. my plan was to delve into “sex and the city” reruns to comfort myself, but soon after i started in on one episode the internet messed up. so i faced myself, crying out the feelings in silence while staring into the urban stormy night sky. i felt sorrow for my niece’s current trial even though i know she will triumph over cancer. i felt sorrow for everyone in my blood family. the sorrow was authentic and needed release. i longed for us to all be together living a village life, not separated…but reality has brought us to three different states and nobody is willing to live where the other makes home. why is life so challenging? i know why. i don’t need anymore why answers. just needed to cry and to feel it out of the body. i also felt gratitude that there was a huge umbrella to walk home under and that my family is filled with love through all of our various trials. i thought about my true love, whomever this man will be. i wanted him last night in that sensitive creature way. i wanted to cry into his chest until the storm passed. the sky played his role instead. i cried into the chest of night, finding comfort in the lit up building windows. the storm, both inside and out, finished in an hour maybe less. i felt replenished. i thought about the conversation at work. about “being on the other side of the slope” as i called it. hitting age 40, when you begin the downward slide toward death. it’s just a certain lens i am looking through here, seeing life as a large bell curve. how different it feels to be on this side of the curve. how drastically the flavor of life changed for me after turning 41. how often i think about death, aging, and family of blood and soul. how love becomes the most important thing because youth cannot dream into an endless future anymore. i know we can die at any time and my youth was dark, by no means was i living in any proverbial garden of eden as a young person. but still, i dreamed big and felt time to be endless, i did not worry for my family, or think about aging. it was a time all about my own healing and growth. a time of expansion only. oh, the bliss of ignorant youth, like a blip on the screen of infinity. i still feel young in spirit, timeless really…but my body shows all the signs of being on the down slope. life takes away our attachment to the physical on purpose and not just with aging. i can trip out on this. i am tripping out on this…on the temporal nature of everything physical. last night i dreamed about discontent. mine and certain friends. i observe how my mind is looking through a lens of unhappiness with the popping up of vulnerability last night. i am not going to try fix this like a super hero on crack. i am going to accept exactly where i am at and gently lead my mind back to balance with nourishment, like leading a stray horse to a greener pasture with gentle and wise love. no big deal. the longing in my heart for touch, earth, family, partnership, animals, cooking, gardening…it’s not a comfortable place for me to dwell. i am used to being the gypsy pitching city tents, single, plastic plates, quick meals, no pets, on the fly, living for the invisible, the creative, the visionary, the myth, for love as a state of being and not a solid tangible thing. i see my identity and release the grip on it. destiny is playing out, co-creating with my intentions. i will let karma be what it is and build with pragmatic step by step hands. i feel happy to be alive in all the stages of life. it’s taken me a long time to feel this way. i love my blood and soul family. i love this go-around as michelle. finis and infinity. some aspects end while other aspects live on forever…
for me, tarot is predictive and always has been. the cards always show what’s going to happen before it happens, unless they don’t want me to know. although most modern western people are all about free will, and describe tarot as being a way to look within and see the likely outcome based upon what’s happening now, and that makes sense to my western mind too….i have this eastern heart, and it feels that everything has already been written, it feels much like the oracle from the matrix when she said, “you are not here to make choices, you are here to understand the choices you already made.” this is my deeper truth. the tarot has always been my companion. since i was 18. that was 25 years ago. been reading a long time and felt an affinity with them right away. tattooed the minor arcana symbols on my arm only months after picking up my first deck so that i would never forget who i am. it’s always told me the future except when it wont, because i need to learn a lesson. same goes with clients, i read the same for me or them. only if i pull when not grounded, or when mercury is in retrograde, will the tarot be off. i don’t like to tell first time clients this, because their hunger to know the future is too strong, they give too much power to the cards, and it feels wrong. to look into the future you want to look without being attached to the outcomes. i am not always successful with this myself, but i have become accustomed to both my weakness and the power of the cards. when the universe wont tell me the future, i might get upset if i have the hunger to know, but i recognize the hunger and let it go. and if i am given the future, it does not come as a play by play. it comes as an overall emotional tone. like, i knew yesterday’s trip to the island was going to be the “hanged man”, something out of our control happening, forcing us to let go. that’s all i knew. turns our ruby’s inking appointment got cancelled and so i did not write, she was not tattooed, and we left the island soon after arriving. before i go on online dates i pull and always know ahead of time how i will feel. this might be misuse, admittedly, but it’s never wrong. i imagine telling my dates this, and scaring the crap out of them, weirding them out, and other humorous imaginings in the comical story of what to expect when on a date with a priestess. why am i even talking about this? i suppose because i feel like i am a dying breed, as the trend is arching toward free will and reason as humanity progresses. this is a good thing, i believe. free will is a beautiful thing i want to be true, and it is true too. i know how the two work together, free will and how the tarot predicts. knowing the future does not eradicate free will, it just sees beyond it. i am using my free will to say no to men on dates, it’s just that the tarot knows it before i do…for example. as for the “it’s already written” thing. it is. that’s the strange thing about this realm. we are using our free will and yet it’s also already written. i can feel how it fits, even if i cannot make sense of it. whether a scientist can, i don’t know, i don’t care, i am not here to prove anything. i am only sharing my truth. thankful i have a libra moon cause it allows me to hold the truth that truth can be both. i embrace “both” so deeply. the only single targeted truth i embrace is love. aside from love, everything turns into both. free will and it’s already been written, being one example of this, and it goes on and on. anyhow, i wanted to keep this about tarot because i am feeling sentimental about my dying breed mentality. blog, for me, is an online diary, a way to put my personal imprint into the collective via computer technology. so if i die soon, it will be known how important tarot has been in my life, and how much it has predicted, for me, my friends, my family, my clients. the universe knows when and what to reveal, and sometimes it jumps off the timeline when doing it. sometimes you see something coming but it take years. sometimes the universe will only point you inside because you need to strengthen your free will, learn lessons, and become more aware and wise. using tarot to learn about your insides is much more important than predicting, by the way. the predicting part is there to help guide you, when used properly, but less necessary than seeing inside of yourself to understand what’s really going on. there are two veils to see behind, one goes inside the self and one goes into the future. looking inside the self is very empowering if you know we are all responsible for our creations in life, and that external life is a mirror of the internal. but how can you keep your power while looking behind the veil to the future? either you need to believe you can change what you see in the cards, which i will never believe, but that’s a good strategy if you can. or, you need to surrender to knowing that your will has deeper unconscious reasons for things happening. from my experience, the conscious mind is a beautiful fool, very unaware of what is really happening behind the scenes, and often times, not in alignment with it, because the conscious mind is a child obsessed with the pleasure of the senses, or getting justice, stuff like this, topical stuff. you cannot take it serious. i treat my conscious mind with many grains of salt. though i will save this for more blogging, this one is getting long. tarot i love you, and i am thankful for seeing behind the veil. happy new moon, y’all.
floodgates, check. opening, check. hops and barstools and listening to the muse, being a good listener, not interjecting me into the listening. writing messy in a journal with a fox on it. characters forming from real life but turning into fiction characters. is this who the myth people are? is hanuman a ficitonalized real person? i feel so. concepts and metaphors, atoms, and particles, don’t float in some lifeless void connecting together like a tetris game, only appearing to have all this personality. atoms are adam. atoms are tiny eyes and hearts. what did the spider in the sink mean? when a spider is poised like that, out of harm’s way, i feel it is the divine feminine, grandma spider. a good spider. when the spider was crawling on my body and kathleen yelled, “take it off!!!” and i knew she meant my shall, and i threw if off as the big ass wolf spider scuttled away….i knew it was a warning. in a breathless frenzy i said to her, “what does is mean?” she said it meant i needed to stop with the negative self talk. a bad spider. there is a place for bad and good. it’s not good to lash somebody or yourself. and yet the paradox is, we are learning as oneness, to lash out and feel the pain and not do it again, in the moment. the creative moment. all is is-ing. izzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzing. turning of events. seeing the suffering of the world, wanting to come up with solutions. tired of grieving and tired of those who ignore, not grieving, and picking up their slack, because…since we are all one organism, those who repress feelings create those who feel too much. turn the volume down? can’t. sweat it out in yoga. grounded was the word today. lots of balancing poses. moving from pose to pose with mindful grace. sometimes wobbling. twisting deeper. still needing to be on my knees. still listening to kd. chanting away. feeling and speaking with baba. finally painting. it took the wild being let out. it took being alone and blazing. it took not being lazy. craving to do nothing is a real thing. just as much as the practice. deciding who to be on halloween. aversions to overly masculine ritual magic mystery school bullshit. how they think we think. sometimes i don’t care about stones, tarot, astrology, or any of the tools of this trade. you want to run out screaming. but instead, write the play. lila gets her way. through and as. me. rose, vetiver, violet and vanilla. maybe i’ll get a bike. name it something with a v like veruca. giving away turquoise and getting rid of shirts, like i am leaving, but it appears so far, that i am sticking around. blue roses and copper crowns. a story of love from the inside out….
still only wanting to listen to baba hanuman, feeling it so much, and his voice going into my heart and loosening the grip, bringing…there are no words for it. today is the first day of autumn. i woke up no longer reluctant. warmth returning to my heart after the weekend, walking through the swamp in the dark, right after a lightning storm where i got struck, and so tired from making it back to land that i collapsed onto him. earth as masculine, holding me and my fatigue. weird dreams and sleeping late. mirroring for one another the reflection of the scared child worrying that it will be like the past again. acknowledging fear the night before too, the painful then and the now and how we are dealing with it. shadow has returned. i love it. it’s my forte. but it’s hard too. and yet when i come back to this place, to the chanting, it’s not hard. do what makes you happy. it makes me happy to write blogs while listening to baba hanuman on repeat while burning agarwood under a red light, sitting on the edge of my bed, obsidian arrow head pointed in…cleaning the mirror. basil. fig. apple. elephants and monkeys. remembering a distant land. when reading about the hindu immortals i remember them. i know them. they feel like home. listen to heart. allow imagination to roam free. rational mind may not understand cause it’s caught up in “me”. surrendering logic to the golden hand of heart held out to a sunrise. logic comes in through the back door, where ego’s playing with a yo-yo in the kitchen, thinking about tomorrow, eating a cheese sandwich. the workshop tonight was transformative. loved the circle of us. my intention it be a catalyst for transformation. that makes sense…not necessarily teaching, per se. i feel the flames inside, the snakes, kundalini…more than anything, she desires to transform energy. eyes are focused on the center. hair is dark blue. skin a creamy teal. black eyes. wearing a green robe. i dunno. just riffing now. needing poetry to fill my perception after the healing extravaganza of a weekend. right to balance left. got tired of too many moments being a push, lately. needing to unravel. something new. muse, where are you? keep burning sage and palo santo, chanting, doing yoga, writing, reading, holding the sanctuary in pure love, healing the building, accepting the confusion, sorrow, continual harsh of the city’s injustice smelling the sidewalks with look the other way, it’s too intense. tomorrow begins the descent. from blossom back to seed…..from living on the surface to heading back to the under world, inner world, other world, which is also right here and right now, fully present, although unseen….