monday’s organizing reflections…

monday. got in a total solitude day yesterday. had to force myself to not reach out to anybody. had my phone in hand over a dozen times and used sheer will power to not text for a hang out. was remembering a cohort friend’s words in the car about how it is hard at first to pull away. it was hard. but i did it, for at least one day. i was too scattered to get anything productive done other than grocery shopping, but i did find a school book at a used book store and i do feel more calm and centered this morning from the solitude. now, to keep the balance. i think once a week total solitude might be a good place to start. i don’t know. it’s hard to tell. i still feel somewhat scattered. it’s almost like i need to move away. this is what i usually do to try to find myself again. move to smaller place. but that’s the old me. the new me can balance. i am watching my thoughts create stories about all this. it’s such a waste of energy. monkey mind. dreams last night. i was climbing a very tall mountain with two friends, near the very tiny top peak a million miles above the bottom when a storm of lightning and thunder hit. we had to nestle in a tiny crevice. i wasn’t afraid. slept hard last night. finally. i think it’s cause i spent the evening in my magical ashram, speaking with invisibles. pulling away from the five sense world into six through twelve, where beings are effulgent. i love hanging out in the upper regions, burning incense, stretching, staring into the sky, singing songs. i felt krishna das and maharaji super strong last night too. at one point i felt myself empathing kd’s love from maharaji as i chanted into a picture i made of maharaji over kd’s heart. tears poured from my eyes. i then felt maharaji’s love for listening to chanting and how happy kd might have made him because kd sings with so much feeling. he really opens the channel with his heart. i could be totally projecting but anytime i connect to maharaji it is for a reason he is aware of. maybe he wanted me to feel the love of spirit through my projections. i did. love loved me strong, from within. it made watching “orange is the new black” boring because it seemed so flat like soda left out on a hot day. cut it off half way through. watching egos battle egos gets tiresome. same ole same ole. non-expansive. a main character who is trying to find acceptance for her shadow side is kinda cool, but it also seems that the characters never really move. they just ping pong back and forth in endless toddler dramas. the injustice piece grabbed me at first, but then the dramas just get so gratuitous and boring to me. anyhow, my opinions, blahdeeblah. my next effort is gonna be to read books to wind down for sleep instead of watching television. i think my mission is to get off the screen much more in general. stories on the page where characters move to ignite my imagination. non-fiction perhaps too. craving inspiration to balance out the effort toward productivity. what else is new?

love love love love love love….

i really don’t want to talk about it.  how special it was, my road trip with lady k. and ruby, to go see kd.  not sure if i ever say that either.  i want to express everything.  but not this.  there aren’t words for this feeling….boiling in my heart, still needing an outlet.  mars went into leo at last and i am feeling it.  wanting to play in every way.  joy pervading.  taking off the warrior cloak.  putting down the warrior’s sword.  picking up a wand instead.  putting to practice, the practice. non-attachment.  love generating within.  nobody to be, nothing to cling to.  watching the attachments rise and fall like the sea ebbs and flows.  longing burning in my tummy like a star.  oh the longing the longing the longing!  it’s so intense!  leo leo leo!  whatever shall i do?  call it to me!  sing!  roll around naked in the grass, paint with my fingers, try my very best, express express express!  happiness is the root of the sacral throne now, even when unhappiness poses.  cause it’s not about getting what i want…it’s about giving what i am.  today i feel it, but i know there will be days when it’s stuck behind a dam, and i must strive for it, as pain takes her little-winged stand.  observing…all the feelings come and go (speaking of michelangelo.)  i am not going to measure my life in coffee spoons.  nor will i waste energy on nit picking the fuck out of everything.  rushing down the water slide of my feelings, hiding in the brush of my embarrassment, leaping toward the moon when it’s full, drinking from an amber gourd, writing down the details, coming more and more and more and more and more and more and more into body as love.  nothing else to be, but love.  no below or above.  just love.  i am a devotee of love and love is my guru.  love stuffed itself inside of hanuman, maharaji, kd, me, and continues to pour through taking every name under the sun.  you can pick any of them if you want, or they will pick you.  i tend to be picked, rather than do the picking, while love continues to stuff its vast nature inside of endless forms all day and night, forming one long timeless song.  this is a bliss poem.  august gets radiant.  sliding down cellar doors into a playroom.  oh wait, that just got dark.  funny how the shadows slip in.  eros is wafting into my skin.  hopping from lily pad to lily pad in the underworld, aint no big thing.  freedom is bringing love to all of it.  that’s all there is to it.  the words are redundant.  so this blog is a repetition of sorts.  a simple homage.  finis.  now i shall tend to my day like usual.  yoga, grocery shopping, art making, and whatever happens as night falls.  love mundane and love beautiful….

writing to feel love on thursday night….

the only reason i am blogging again, is to find inspiration.  deep emptiness washes through me right now.  it’s not a bad thing though.  it’s a rinsing.  another lighting fast cleanse.  writing in order to not invest in an old tape wanting to play me in this moment.  it wails on like a thirsty dragon, wanting to stay alive.  “i am starving,” he sings.  and i wonder why.  so i ask, “starving for what, thirsty dragon?”  and i get no reply.  suddenly he is gone.  next comes another apparition. another disguise.  like when buddha sat there watching his apparitions of this and that.  i am watching the arrows being pointed at me, with tenderness, as they turn into roses before my eyes.  this is what’s happening in the mind while emptiness encompasses my heart.  emerald, ruby fuschite, apatite, copper, moonstone, jet, prehnite, smoky quartz, and pink carnelian touching skin.  almond milk like moon milk in the tummy.  going within.  on a journey to see him.  (we shall see if we get there.)  the lila is active like a volcano.  hence the emptiness, to balance things out.  choices.  discernment.  trying to figure it out.  let go.  let the mystery flow.  allow life to unfurl and uncurl like an awakening cat.  a cat names universe.  oh yeah, those old comics i used to write.  new age nancy and her cat universe.  wanna get back to that place when i write.  symphonies make dandelions turn from yellow to white.   it is time for me to turn from red to blue.  and from me to you.  what is it i am saying, i haven’t a clue.  but inspiration returned simply from the writing.  realities are fighting for center stage, during this very detailed and critical venus retrograde.  i’m gonna go sit in the shade, and relax.  how about you?  do you still dream?  thinking about dreams again.  watching the tennis match in my head, between my dream and money, or practical reality as they call it.  funny, aint it?  how money makes it so that a battle is created between doing what you want to do and doing what you must to have food, shelter and all the cultural accouterments?  i don’t like it one bit, yet here it is.  aversion.  gonna give love to it.  why do i love you, aversion?  because you turn me from a mud ball into a pearl.  that’s just my lemon colored glasses talking.  there are those i would not say this stuff too.  that i would just feed, hug, hold, and give water.  like maharahji said, to enlighten, feed the people.  there are many ways to nourish.  my heart is breaking open like a dam, feeling his message…and out rushes the saraswati river into hungry hearts.  this is the calling….

stream of conscious no edit friday night…

my animus was being played by krishna das in my dream last night…he was teaching me about restraint in a very interesting way.  surrender is like that.  admitting defeat feels so good.  it’s not losing at all.  it’s a deep letting go.  acceptance washes into the heart like paradise rolling through, and with that….a cleansing….where….the love you are, is being felt, without needing anything from the outside to be the replica of this.  of course kd plays my animus, he is a role model, ahead of me….even if his way is different, the root is similar.  the paths we feel akin to and walk upon, or create….they call to us emotionally.  a feeling of resonation makes you love the book that changed your life, the person who made you realize what matters, the way in which you mentally process your reality, it’s emotionally based in what calls to you from the outside.  outside initiates it all.

what if the outside is really the inside?  what if maharaji is really the inside, and when his body died (dies?) he returns to the outside?  what if this physical now we are in, is the most inside there is…the most inside of a great being.  what if the physical reality is the tiniest cell of a being so vast, it has not an end.  you cannot process this vastness, being only the cell of this infinite being…but you can feel it, simply by being what you are, and this feeling is the connection, and the only thing that matters about spirituality.  it’s so insane to me, that before kd, i got it all mentally and had moments where is sunk deep into my heart, and seized me…. but not until listening to krishna das, did it sink in and emboss itself permanently into my being…the feeling of being a cell of this infinite being that is complete love.  he was my gateway.  and of course i fall in love with krishna das as a result, and then with maharaji, then hanuman, then saraswati, then ganesha, and now durga.  it’s like, this cell i am, of the infinite being, wants to meet and be close with every cell of this infinite being, every organ, every bone…until i feel us all and know us all, as one.  this is the impetus of me…

it was weird today, watching a protest out the window, while i am at work, being a shop person.  cops and marchers, helicopters and that terrible feeling i loathe….the feeling of endlessly falling.  it’s so deep when you feel with your human suit, the vastness of reality, how it is all impermanent, and change is always happening.  just feeling the seasons pass freaks me out.  i feel scared when time moves fast.  i don’t like fast cars or fast rides.  i don’t like to move fast.  i suppose i am a turtle.  i want to slow it all down.  i need to breathe.  protest quickens the breath.  i know it’s helping crack open a paradigm that needs cracking open.  i appreciate the value of every act and effort to make the world humane.  at the same time, i don’t partake…and do my best to help crack the paradigm open in other ways.  we all have the places we best belong.  right place is a real thing too.  so many angles.  so many facets…

i only feel like working right now.  this is restraint.  work and write and walk and wonder.  silently.  don’t rouse the emotions too much.  when i do, i do it with flare and fire, but at least not too much regret.  when there’s trauma in the childhood, you gotta give growth more slack than an island for a canary.  you have to.  because healing is slow.  sometimes.  you could be one of those fire cracker transformers.  anything is possible…………maha mantra just started, mood shift.  i am scared to talk about sorrow for fear of being judged or told not to feel it.  fuck that.  there is sorrow.  death is occurring.  i got no tears in me though…not yet.  but i feel them coming.  my turn to cry.  for every soul that died in nepal, may they be carried on the wings of a sparrow back to the nest of comfort for a while.  soft journeys and gentle landings.

i am holding hands with my inner man.  inner guru.  but maybe these are my outside men and guru, and the inside ones are inside this physical world.  trippy.  i can feel this, feel how life expands forth from me, like i am the root, the cell, the atom, as this human suit…and the further you get toward the skin, the more it feels like what people refer to as “God”.  although the skin is never found, cause the being we are, keeps on going and going…..(slow down, horsey!)  got my brain growing, but now it’s time to watch some comedy and go to bed.   i feel blessed to be able to do this tonight.  i admit, i love coming home after work and putting my headphones on in the almost dark, lighting up some jasmine, and diving into the internet sea.  i am for sure not free from culture.   for every gift is a curse, for every pleasure a test, when you do your best, there’s nothing forgotten, and when you wade in the middle, you never experience the top or the bottom.

lilting lily talk….

must write another blog.  watching the sunset through green mesh placed over wood slabs for construction guys to walk on, so they can fix the rotting bricks out there or something.  their energy soothes me.  listening to them whistle and talk.  woke up at 3:41 am, from a weird dream with a tummy ache.  have not felt a tummy ache in years.  i don’t get them anymore.  but i had it, sizzling in waves….oh the aversion to it….weakens me….takes all of my energy…and i wonder if the tummy ache was connected to the shrimp and grits, or to helping spirits move out of delusion and into the light.  or both?  walked around in a total daze all day.  couldn’t eat till i had to get pho.  the pho was pure magic.  it helped me walk to the park, where i sat against the sculpture, closed my eyes, and let the sun drench my face, as i shivered with intense cold.  almost fell asleep.  so tired.  sauntered to work and put on the heater, freezing.  giving readings was good, but i felt so lilted, like a lilting lily.  like there was no more breath in me almost.  like 75 percent of me was not here.  but just physically, cause the rest of me was aware of being right here.  can one be in two places at once?  yes, they can.  i think i might be bi-locating right now and don’t realize i am doing it.  if anybody sees me some place other than capitol hill let me know, k?  when i woke up last night, i went right to facebook like a good computer pet, and there was a story ram dass posted about maharaji.  oh man.  this one.  so, in a nutshell, it’s about a girl who got severely abused by dark mystics in india, for years….it was awful, they gave her drugs to turn her into a zombie and they used her body and made her beg.  there’s darkness in every pocket of life.  she was drawn to them, on a search for her soul.  talk about dark night of the soul.  from paris, she was too.  one day she was able to get herself to the police, and long story short, made it home to paris, went into mental institutions and nothing worked to heal her of the shock.  it was code red all the way.  now, to shorten the story some, i am leaving out the part where ram dass came into contact with this girl’s mom, but he did, and she told him that one night, the girl woke up to see maharaji sitting by her bed, and the next morning, she was healed.  he had bi-located. i read this at 3:41 with an aching tummy, after waking from a bad dream, and burst into tears, calling his name, “maharaji!”.  it’s so fucking visceral.  i don’t know what is going on right now but it’s strange.  something that went missing also returned to me, in a different purse from the one i was using the night it vanished.  i am not gonna make mental meaning out of any of this.  just watching it all.  in the yellow zone, that emotionally neutral place that is both bright and empty.  now time to drink some tea and simmer down, on the couch, finding the inside again…

buckets and buckets of bhakti….

surrender.  i am not my thoughts.  solitude.  slowness.  wishing to be a sloth.  sickness wakes up the soul, being, awareness…whatever you wanna call it.  krishna das, maharaji, hanuman, the sun, the galaxy, the universe, life, love.  coursing through me.  feminine energy healing.  moonstone.  sensitivity.  dreams of anger at night.  ego screaming for her mental plight.  the story of pain.  of loss and gain.  can’t play this game.  choose not to.  goodbye game.  all signs point to within.  next of kin.  his love never leaves.  once you grab his hand, he never lets go.  even when you let go.  but i grab it again.  safe place.  mastering paddling a canoe through a tsunami.  leaping over the sea to save the feminine.  i am she.  in the gap of emptiness.  without ego’s accouterments.  nihilistic plastic bobble floats away in the sea-storm.  needs wash ashore like dead jelly fish.  no needs.  all needs met.  by love.  crying while watching reruns of beverly hills 90210.  wishing for innocence.  to go back and do it again.  with what i know now.  goodbye regret.  give it to maharaji.  he says “attachment”.  we are laughing.  the lovers card.  choices about love.  i choose to be honored.  i choose to honor.  discernment.  a feminine lesson.  different than the masculine lesson.  the masculine and feminine course through man and woman equally.  masculine learns to care about the feelings of others.  feminine learns to discern.  to not give all her power away.  masculine learns to share his power.  saying no has been hard.  but i did it.  there is nowhere to go.  but the present.  hare rama rama ram sita rama rama ram.  forgetting self in the chant.  overtaken by who i really am.  slippers and sweat pants.  tea and garnet.  books everywhere.  strewn.  twelve tarot decks all saying the same thing.  sneezing.  creative awakenings.  april is the ashram.  until it isn’t.  no more absolutes.  his hand the comfort.  even though his body is dead (supposedly).  his presence is everywhere.  hold me maharaji.  in your love.  in our love.  in love.  bhakti bellowing.  inside the belly of a whale.  the tale of this michelle life.  her east coast american emotions.  her storms and lessons.  her dna.  outside the sky is brownish grey.  how did i get here?  to seattle.  in a nest in the sky.  typing to stay alive. in human form.  this temporary world.  i adorn.

i don’t even know what to call this one….unraveling…

changes.  thank goodness for solitude sunday, to ride with these changes.  jogging in the rain, holding up a van gogh umbrella, splashing water from puddles into my sneakers, feeling happy.  about to get the news.  about to have to let go of seeing krishna das, but so focused on the health of my niece, i don’t even think twice or worry about it.  in fact, not going to see him is the perfect letting go to the perfect attachment.  my niece will be healthy soon, i can feel it.  i will continue to send her pictures of health and feelings of love.  visiting virginia will be delayed but maybe it’s better to make it a different kind of visit.  all is right in the world.  divine trust because i surrendered to the whole entire organism we are.  to my life purpose and work.  i am here for you.  the part that’s here for me is learning how to be here for me too.  putting heart in the drivers seat.  not lust, shadow, or unconsciousness.  enjoying using the ab roller which is really weird cause usually i hate doing exercises to target muscle groups and all that scientific athletic stuff.  gotta be open.  you never what will make you happy.  a happy day even as i felt cranky.  because underneath the moon time, is a quiet blue lily, sitting soft on dark waters.  all i wanted to do after steeping in joe bar’s apple green walls, drinking an almond milk latte, and reading white cobra’s myth…was to get to here.  my solitude abode of magic.  and here i am, in it.  facing my window that looks like a sea-jewel, as i soak in red golden candle lit orange sandalwood krishna das syrupy walls high in the sky, cozied in a nest, to be able to flow in the way i need to feel my best.  this is the me part.  the you part is…at a certain level, there is no distinction between you and me, us is who we are only.  and that level is closer to origin then the level where you are a you, and i am a me.  as individuals we swing far out on the tire swing and play.  together, we are the burning core of the sun that makes this day.  so i am here for you.  i am here to put you in your right place.  not with anything i say, or do…but just by being me, being next to you.  this is what it means to be 44. the 33 me, surrenders.  and 3, 6, and 9 live for the dance of physical life, the inhale and exhale, getting together and breaking apart, the movement of the universe….the black hole sucking up every experience and particle of this universe into its body the size of a walnut….then throwing it all up again, to make a new universe.  shiva-shakti.  need to feel life right now.  not get too much in the head.  can’t let anyone in the bed unless they want to give to my heart.  cannot let any thoughts in the head that act like the men i manifested to mirror my shadow.  those feelings which call forth the shadows are walking their funeral march off the cliff of the ganges, into the mouth of baba yaga, to feed the next generation.  what more can i say?  should i talk about what i ate for dinner like a lucky first worlder?  do i make a comedic video to break up the pressure?  who are you, perfect group?  how do we get this started?  you are my soul mates.  you are my true loves.  not just one.  one romantic love.  sun to my moon.  man to my woman.  both to my both.  but to the group, just as devoted…