Maybe it's because my birthday just passed. It's also quite possible that Saturn's conjunction with my natal Sun/Uranus is adding its own flavor to this feeling. Something about this past year in particular has left me feeling emotional in ways that haven't been this strong in years. Today marks my one year anniversary of moving back to SF. In some moments it feels like nearly this entire year has been a waste of time. Yet when I step back, I'm realizing that I'm defining time as something being based in work. Saturn you sneaky bastard. Now, if I instead look at time as movement based, I realize I'm at the same physical address and it still feels to be somewhat wasted. In this year I've finally realized how important it is to note and adjust how we speak to and about ourselves. How we cast ourselves into the stories of our lives is solely dependent upon us. This year has been spent exactly how it needed to be spent.
During the meltdown I had on my birthday I told my best friend that I felt like my life was and has been on pause. Like I wasn't actually living. He asked what I thought it meant to be living. The answer that flew out of my mouth was producing, experiencing and exploring. While I still find that to be a truth for me, I'm realizing I'm not giving myself enough credit.
- One year ago I moved back to SF and into my parents home. After years of freedom with no one asking where or who or why or when or how I was doing whatever I was doing, I stepped back into a realm where nearly everything I do and don't do is judged and spoken on passive aggressively. Being back here has helped to better understand what my own nature is versus how I was nurtured and then reflect on the ways that my projections of both ways of being have helped or hurt me in how I engage with my world. Sometimes you have to revisit the past in order to move forward.
- While yes I'm still at the same address, I have succeeded in transforming my own space from virtually nothing to something. I slept on a couch for about 3 months and then in my Mom's office for 3 months. It took 6 months to rearrange and create space outside of what is now my room. It couldn't become my space while filled someone else's stuff. And even once it become my nearly bare space, it wasn't arranged properly for yet another few months. I was told that I made the mistake of getting comfortable and that's why I was still here in SF one year later. While that may be true, if I learned anything in the past 4 years, it's how important my environment is to me. Not only do I need alone time, I need alone space where I control stimulation or lack there of and float with my thoughts and feelings and decompress. I need the art and colors and flowers and scents and tools around me to be accessible so I might revitalize my being when I need to. After putting such minimal effort into my first apartment in Brooklyn, every one thereafter I've needed to shape and color my domain to my own standards no matter how temporary it ends up being.
- I worked at a vet hospital and I learned that it's not for me. Becoming a vet and owning an animal hostel and hospital was one of my first dreams. I remember sitting with a friend at summer camp and drawing out blueprints for the building while we planned to open this business together 15 years in the future. I now love animals just as much as I did at that age and always wondered if I would have become a doctor (of animals or humans) had I not gotten sick. Well it's now a dream that I can lay to rest and any subconscious energy I was investing in it for all these years can now be focused on manifesting a different dream.
- I was hired as a photographer for the first time in 6 years! I was so nervous because it's something that's been fun and solely for me. If I get shots I'm happy with, fantastic and if I don't, it doesn't matter. I've been welcoming newness into my life and this was part of that. So I took the leap and got paid to photograph nature, something I love and do often anyhow.
-I've gone through spurts of drawing. A quote that resonated so incredibly much that I heard or read this year is that life imitates art far more than art imitates life. The responsibility of creating that which you wish to see in the world just drips all over my mind a potency not often paralleled. And so I've made it a point to sit down and just draw. People or shapes or symbols, or colors or abstract messes. Allowing whatever comes out to come out.
- I not only took classes (which is an accomplishment in and of itself for me), but I finally took reiki classes. In NY I had financial excuses and then I had energy and time excuses. Despite my lack of consistent cash flow, I still did it this time. It was time to invest in myself and learn something I wanted to for awhile now.
- I traveled. I became more intimate with LA and Phoenix. I didn't travel far but I traveled quite often, shifting through worlds, shaking up energy patterns and healing myself all the while. There's something to be said for what happens to your soul while driving on an open road in the middle of nowhere during a sunrise.
- I planted seeds. I tended them with water and love and affection and watched them all grow and bloom and die.
- I met 2 local awesome human beings to create and work with.
- I finally made jewelry and I'd like to make more.
- I became more comfortable in my own skin and soul and my sense of self feels stronger.
- I was hired to freelance for a new makeup line.
- My communication with all my family members has improved.
- I quit smoking cigarettes for the longest consecutive period in 6 years.
- I started exercising again for the first time in 4 years. Running and walking the beach and light yoga.
- I created sleep rituals for myself listening to binaural beats and isochronic tones. I began to journey with drums rather than lights.
- I've spent time in questionable environments which made me reevaluate my stereotypes and values.
- My bond with my guides has grown infinitely tighter and I'm experiencing love in ways I never have before.
So yes I've been floating in this in between space for the past year or so. And I haven't produced as much work as I would have hoped to in a year. But when I think about all the different habits and ways of existing and living and thinking and feeling that have changed in the past year, I'm happy. I did work. I just spent a ton of time working on myself for myself rather than for someone else. I'm excited to see what the future holds.
Tuesday, November 25, 2014
Thursday, September 11, 2014
Shoved in the shadows
I began this great new life, pursuing my dreams, working with artists I'd admired for years and feeling like an extremely productive wide eyed child because nearly everything was new and I was finally making a giant leap toward pursuing some of my dreams. A "friend" offered to help me financially and as with everything else being new, for the first time in my life I accepted. But see, what I had always feared is what happened and his help came with a price. Rather than just lend me money, he always wanted to hang out as well. This was before I knew my body the way I do now but something always just felt gross about him and the way he spoke to me. My ex felt it through reading texts and called it out long before I moved cross country. A combination of wanting to prove her wrong and needing to eat while I looked for a job made me play by his rules.
I went back and forth forever about using the word rape. But it needs to be said. Last month a friend confided in me how she was drunk and half asleep when her ex whom she had been only friends with for years now, took it upon himself to spoon her, pull her panties to the side and just have his way. She told me she didn't want to have sex with him but was too intoxicated and tired to deny him. She danced around the word like I have but she was raped. It doesn't have to be violent to leave you feeling violated.
Because it was a "friend" and we shared mutual friends it wasn't as easy to call a spade a spade. In my head for months I tried to justify everything by thinking of myself as a one time prostitute. He had given me money and taken what he paid for. But the reality is that he stole my wings and I've been walking around trying to ignore my wounds ever since.
Before I was given chemo, it was explained to my family and I that the type I'd be receiving was too new for them to know if I'd ever be able to get pregnant. I was 22 so while it wasn't an immediate concern, as someone who loves kids, it always hung in the back of mind as a giant question mark. Bittersweet is too loose of a word to describe the polarized emotions I felt and how each extreme actually made the other that much worse. I surely didn't want to find out that yes, I was fertile and capable of creating a life... through the act of rape and now though some part of me was ecstatic that the ability was there, I was going to have to destroy that life. And it gets better. When rampantly advocating for a woman's right to choose for years prior, I for some unbeknownst reason had been under the impression that abortions could be low cost or free. Maybe in some places they are but being broke in Brooklyn doesn't get you jack. Without being able to stand up for myself yet knowing he was fully responsible and should pay, I found myself muffling my rage and swallowing all pride to ask him to pay for it. He did eventually give me the money but not before berating me for not going and taking a cheaper morning after pill.
It's astounding how much pain one tiny pill can cause. That night I ran the full course of shame, regret, guilt, rage, sadness, despair, fear. Nearly all directed towards myself. I cried on and off for weeks afterwards and figured I had allowed myself to experience my emotions and now it was over. Only now, 4 years later am I seeing the extent to which it has continued to haunt me.
I began to fall in love. Or I began to realize I had always been there. He was fun and made me laugh and I felt safe and warm and like I could spill all my secrets to him and he'd just love me even harder. Yet, he knew the man who violated me and I myself wanted to put it all in the past and just focus on working and playing and exploring this newly realized love. When he did find out, it wasn't through me and all he knew was that I had been pregnant and had an abortion, not that it had occurred against my will. He then began to distance himself a bit from me. Though I can easily rest on the term "everything happens for a reason", to this day I still wonder where we would be in relation to each other if none of the horror had occurred.
I laid in bed the other night digging deep to bring all this to light and what I realized is just how much of the shame and guilt and embarrassment and anger still exist within me and have successfully bled over into every part of my life since then. Somewhere during my NY stint I became conscious of the fact that we create our realities and are responsible for attracting what we do into our lives. Though I was striving to make a living and excel in a creative field, I shut my creative self down. She was the bright, colorful and confident girl. She was also the version of me who either created a situation in which she was raped or attracted a person who raped her. How and why would I ever want to be that version of myself again? I've kept her hostage in a dark corner somewhere in my universe ever since as it hurts too much to stare in the face of someone capable of creating such circumstances.
In January of 2013 I kneeled in the storefront of my work packing boxes to ship to Sephora when my new coworker offered to help. As I had learned, "help" seems to come with a price so I declined. He then kneeled beside me and said "You can't forget who you are." We barely knew each other when he uttered those words but it sparked something in me that eventually led to no longer be working for that company or living in NY to now coming to terms with part of me I had been trying to forget. Months later somehow he caught wind that I used to do youtube videos and asked how to find me. I couldn't even watch my old self let alone share that person I was so ashamed of with him. My job wanted me to film and do youtube videos for them. People leave me comments every so often, taking me back to who I once was and I can't hide her anymore. I don't want to live as a fragmented human being anymore and if I wish to thrive in life as I once did she needs to step out of the shadows and reclaim her power. I will forgive myself for feeling ashamed at being naive enough to think someone may just actually want to help me with no strings attached. Several men and women have shown me their good nature since. I forgive myself for feeling guilty about destroying a creation I never agreed to. I will allow my anger and rage to fuel me, disappearing whenever it does and I most certainly will not shove some part of me in corner because I or others are afraid of her or she's too much to handle.
I finally understand why you've been walking by my side all this time Lilith. Thank you...
I went back and forth forever about using the word rape. But it needs to be said. Last month a friend confided in me how she was drunk and half asleep when her ex whom she had been only friends with for years now, took it upon himself to spoon her, pull her panties to the side and just have his way. She told me she didn't want to have sex with him but was too intoxicated and tired to deny him. She danced around the word like I have but she was raped. It doesn't have to be violent to leave you feeling violated.
Because it was a "friend" and we shared mutual friends it wasn't as easy to call a spade a spade. In my head for months I tried to justify everything by thinking of myself as a one time prostitute. He had given me money and taken what he paid for. But the reality is that he stole my wings and I've been walking around trying to ignore my wounds ever since.
Before I was given chemo, it was explained to my family and I that the type I'd be receiving was too new for them to know if I'd ever be able to get pregnant. I was 22 so while it wasn't an immediate concern, as someone who loves kids, it always hung in the back of mind as a giant question mark. Bittersweet is too loose of a word to describe the polarized emotions I felt and how each extreme actually made the other that much worse. I surely didn't want to find out that yes, I was fertile and capable of creating a life... through the act of rape and now though some part of me was ecstatic that the ability was there, I was going to have to destroy that life. And it gets better. When rampantly advocating for a woman's right to choose for years prior, I for some unbeknownst reason had been under the impression that abortions could be low cost or free. Maybe in some places they are but being broke in Brooklyn doesn't get you jack. Without being able to stand up for myself yet knowing he was fully responsible and should pay, I found myself muffling my rage and swallowing all pride to ask him to pay for it. He did eventually give me the money but not before berating me for not going and taking a cheaper morning after pill.
It's astounding how much pain one tiny pill can cause. That night I ran the full course of shame, regret, guilt, rage, sadness, despair, fear. Nearly all directed towards myself. I cried on and off for weeks afterwards and figured I had allowed myself to experience my emotions and now it was over. Only now, 4 years later am I seeing the extent to which it has continued to haunt me.
I began to fall in love. Or I began to realize I had always been there. He was fun and made me laugh and I felt safe and warm and like I could spill all my secrets to him and he'd just love me even harder. Yet, he knew the man who violated me and I myself wanted to put it all in the past and just focus on working and playing and exploring this newly realized love. When he did find out, it wasn't through me and all he knew was that I had been pregnant and had an abortion, not that it had occurred against my will. He then began to distance himself a bit from me. Though I can easily rest on the term "everything happens for a reason", to this day I still wonder where we would be in relation to each other if none of the horror had occurred.
I laid in bed the other night digging deep to bring all this to light and what I realized is just how much of the shame and guilt and embarrassment and anger still exist within me and have successfully bled over into every part of my life since then. Somewhere during my NY stint I became conscious of the fact that we create our realities and are responsible for attracting what we do into our lives. Though I was striving to make a living and excel in a creative field, I shut my creative self down. She was the bright, colorful and confident girl. She was also the version of me who either created a situation in which she was raped or attracted a person who raped her. How and why would I ever want to be that version of myself again? I've kept her hostage in a dark corner somewhere in my universe ever since as it hurts too much to stare in the face of someone capable of creating such circumstances.
In January of 2013 I kneeled in the storefront of my work packing boxes to ship to Sephora when my new coworker offered to help. As I had learned, "help" seems to come with a price so I declined. He then kneeled beside me and said "You can't forget who you are." We barely knew each other when he uttered those words but it sparked something in me that eventually led to no longer be working for that company or living in NY to now coming to terms with part of me I had been trying to forget. Months later somehow he caught wind that I used to do youtube videos and asked how to find me. I couldn't even watch my old self let alone share that person I was so ashamed of with him. My job wanted me to film and do youtube videos for them. People leave me comments every so often, taking me back to who I once was and I can't hide her anymore. I don't want to live as a fragmented human being anymore and if I wish to thrive in life as I once did she needs to step out of the shadows and reclaim her power. I will forgive myself for feeling ashamed at being naive enough to think someone may just actually want to help me with no strings attached. Several men and women have shown me their good nature since. I forgive myself for feeling guilty about destroying a creation I never agreed to. I will allow my anger and rage to fuel me, disappearing whenever it does and I most certainly will not shove some part of me in corner because I or others are afraid of her or she's too much to handle.
I finally understand why you've been walking by my side all this time Lilith. Thank you...
Wisdom in wounds
Yesterday I fell skinning my left knee and leaving the right bruised. I couldn't walk without pain this morning and I was reminded that I don't remember the last time I (physically) hurt myself. Emotionally on the other hand I'm realizing has been pretty consistent.
In a bizarre bout of communication, I sat on the phone for 85 minutes today with a person I haven't seen nor spoken to in any sort of way in about 3 years. A person who I am not and was never friends with yet fond of from the moment we met. I don't generally talk on the phone but this man reached out and said he could really use my ear right now. So I listened.
Only because it wasn't my story, was I able to let the pain, sadness and confusion he emitted pass through me. In so many ways I identified with him and in just as many ways I identified with her. It's easy to see both sides when you're not directly involved. He admitted that he had given up things he loved for her. Pieces of what made him, him. Not because she had asked him to, but because it became clear that his light made her uncomfortable. To the world she's shiny and bright and positive and motivational to the masses yet he has been privy to the woman no one else sees. The one who doesn't know who she is without him. The one who doesn't believe she's beautiful, seeks validation everywhere and smothers her shadows with affirmations. I don't know what will become of their story but it gave me food for thought.
There's been this underlying universal vibration of the need for self love over the past few months. This is reflected in both his and her sides of the story. What resonated most strongly for me were the different versions of her. The one I see now, the one I knew back before either of us knew him and the one she now hides from the world. Mirror mirror on the wall...part of me is her.
Before moving to NY I was bright and smiley and mostly confident. I expressed myself freely without much thought about what I was saying and definitely didn't censor myself. While that may or may not have been the most ideal way to live (who's to say?) I was comfortable in my skin, spoke my mind and mostly listened to my heart.
I partially blame myself. I am embarrassed that I was weak enough to let it happen. I was angry that my ex had been right. I was told by my best friend that my emotion surrounding the situation was "too heavy" which left me afraid to burden anyone by speaking about it. I began to lose my voice, to hide my shadows and to swallow and internalize my "negative" and "heavy" emotions the night I was raped.
I keep seeing these posts and quotes around social media about how you have to tell the truth even if your voice shakes and how you have to speak up and if people don't like what you say then they should have behaved better. I barked at someone recently about how he needed to deal with his emotions and though I still believe that, the same is true for me and I'm just now feeling it. There's something powerful and freeing about releasing your story and being heard that brings about healing. I've been here before in a different life. Shutting it all away and choosing to edit carefully so you focus on and only show the world anything bright and inspiring and sparkly doesn't actually solve the problem. I am an amazing editor but it's time to release the monsters I've been trying to hide from myself and everyone else. Time to wear my wounds and tell the whole, often ugly truth.
In a bizarre bout of communication, I sat on the phone for 85 minutes today with a person I haven't seen nor spoken to in any sort of way in about 3 years. A person who I am not and was never friends with yet fond of from the moment we met. I don't generally talk on the phone but this man reached out and said he could really use my ear right now. So I listened.
Only because it wasn't my story, was I able to let the pain, sadness and confusion he emitted pass through me. In so many ways I identified with him and in just as many ways I identified with her. It's easy to see both sides when you're not directly involved. He admitted that he had given up things he loved for her. Pieces of what made him, him. Not because she had asked him to, but because it became clear that his light made her uncomfortable. To the world she's shiny and bright and positive and motivational to the masses yet he has been privy to the woman no one else sees. The one who doesn't know who she is without him. The one who doesn't believe she's beautiful, seeks validation everywhere and smothers her shadows with affirmations. I don't know what will become of their story but it gave me food for thought.
There's been this underlying universal vibration of the need for self love over the past few months. This is reflected in both his and her sides of the story. What resonated most strongly for me were the different versions of her. The one I see now, the one I knew back before either of us knew him and the one she now hides from the world. Mirror mirror on the wall...part of me is her.
Before moving to NY I was bright and smiley and mostly confident. I expressed myself freely without much thought about what I was saying and definitely didn't censor myself. While that may or may not have been the most ideal way to live (who's to say?) I was comfortable in my skin, spoke my mind and mostly listened to my heart.
I partially blame myself. I am embarrassed that I was weak enough to let it happen. I was angry that my ex had been right. I was told by my best friend that my emotion surrounding the situation was "too heavy" which left me afraid to burden anyone by speaking about it. I began to lose my voice, to hide my shadows and to swallow and internalize my "negative" and "heavy" emotions the night I was raped.
I keep seeing these posts and quotes around social media about how you have to tell the truth even if your voice shakes and how you have to speak up and if people don't like what you say then they should have behaved better. I barked at someone recently about how he needed to deal with his emotions and though I still believe that, the same is true for me and I'm just now feeling it. There's something powerful and freeing about releasing your story and being heard that brings about healing. I've been here before in a different life. Shutting it all away and choosing to edit carefully so you focus on and only show the world anything bright and inspiring and sparkly doesn't actually solve the problem. I am an amazing editor but it's time to release the monsters I've been trying to hide from myself and everyone else. Time to wear my wounds and tell the whole, often ugly truth.
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
Moon shine
"In divinity opposites are always reconciled." - Walter M. Miller Jr
2 weeks ago I walked south along ocean beach, drinking in every detail I could. When it's difficult for me to really understand what I'm truly feeling, the world always tells me if I venture out solo. Being alone leaves absolutely no room for crossing my wires with anyone around me and everything I encounter feels like a more pure reflection.
On my morning run I stopped beneath a tree to sit, breathe and write in the sand. A man walking his 2 puppies joined me and began to tell me about the demeanor of his 2 dogs. The male he explained was a big chicken who barked at everyone until he knew them and the female was friendly but shy. A beetle landed on my hand and I came across a flock of birds whose species I don't recall ever seeing before.
Later that evening, the sky became a bleached rainbow and the ocean waves were just as gentle. I walked by a man flying a red kite and as the announcement of completing mile #2 played in my headphones, I realized I had walked into a giant heart with a crack running through it that someone had drawn in the sand. I stood dead center and laughed. Every little detail I had come across perfectly illustrated the myriad of feelings coursing through me. Walking back in the direction of home I bounced between the oddest combo of feeling sad and amused. A little girl wearing a mermaid tail sat right where the water was touching the sand and her Dad photographed her flipping her tail while laughing. Seeing her made me push the sadness away as I needed to make more room for the added amusement.
And then I sat and meticulously made my list of goals to achieve. A new found fire lit under my ass though I'm not sure how. My willpower felt like it had gone to shit over the last 10 years and it was time to invoke the stubborn, goal oriented scorpion I used to be. I had been slowly building up to this and it was time.
Plans. Whenever plans are written both in mind and ink and things seem to skew themselves, there's always that mild scent of chaos on the wind that marks the pot being stirred. While I did in fact write every day along with perform reiki and meditate, my clean eating was interrupted by glorious Mexican food *drool* and my every day exercise wasn't exactly every day anymore. But I traded running/walking for spurts of running uphill and swimming for hours. And while I may have indulged in huevos rancheros, I didn't even have one single french fry when we drove through McDonalds and every other person got food on our road trip.
Yesterday after spending a week down south and a few days nurturing myself, I returned to walk beside the ocean for the first time since that new moon. My intentions were many; exercise my body, charge with the vitamin D fueling this full moon, talk to the ocean and check in to see how I was feeling. The sky was filled with rays exploding behind dark clouds and I found myself running down blocks I generally walk. I wanted and needed to reach the ocean as quickly as possible. Before my feet even hit the sand, my eyes landed on a girl wearing a crown dancing in the sand while her sister sat a few feet away wearing a glitter black cat mask tied around her head with shiny black ribbons. I crossed the sand and as the completion of mile #1 was announced I decided I wasn't going to push myself physically or mentally. I'd let my shuffle continue to play and I'd walk as fast as I felt like, stopping whenever I pleased to look at or touch whatever I wanted. I had begun to take working out so seriously that I had forgotten the playful, light-hearted, less serious part of it that was just as important. As mile #2 was announced I swear I saw a shockwave ripple around me. In the exact same spot I had stood in the center of a cracked heart 2 weeks ago, now was a new heart someone had drawn filled with pieces of broken shells. Musing on this idea of broken hearts becoming broken shells and whole hearts I saw bright flashes of orange light at my feet.
When I stop to consider all that I've attracted (and that which I haven't) over the past 2 weeks, I'm presented with quite the spectrum of feelings I'm dancing through. Despite the shift in the sand art, my heart still feels broken in moments but maybe that's the point and in reconciling differences, broken is actually whole and healed or at least on its way?
2 weeks ago I walked south along ocean beach, drinking in every detail I could. When it's difficult for me to really understand what I'm truly feeling, the world always tells me if I venture out solo. Being alone leaves absolutely no room for crossing my wires with anyone around me and everything I encounter feels like a more pure reflection.
On my morning run I stopped beneath a tree to sit, breathe and write in the sand. A man walking his 2 puppies joined me and began to tell me about the demeanor of his 2 dogs. The male he explained was a big chicken who barked at everyone until he knew them and the female was friendly but shy. A beetle landed on my hand and I came across a flock of birds whose species I don't recall ever seeing before.
Later that evening, the sky became a bleached rainbow and the ocean waves were just as gentle. I walked by a man flying a red kite and as the announcement of completing mile #2 played in my headphones, I realized I had walked into a giant heart with a crack running through it that someone had drawn in the sand. I stood dead center and laughed. Every little detail I had come across perfectly illustrated the myriad of feelings coursing through me. Walking back in the direction of home I bounced between the oddest combo of feeling sad and amused. A little girl wearing a mermaid tail sat right where the water was touching the sand and her Dad photographed her flipping her tail while laughing. Seeing her made me push the sadness away as I needed to make more room for the added amusement.
And then I sat and meticulously made my list of goals to achieve. A new found fire lit under my ass though I'm not sure how. My willpower felt like it had gone to shit over the last 10 years and it was time to invoke the stubborn, goal oriented scorpion I used to be. I had been slowly building up to this and it was time.
Plans. Whenever plans are written both in mind and ink and things seem to skew themselves, there's always that mild scent of chaos on the wind that marks the pot being stirred. While I did in fact write every day along with perform reiki and meditate, my clean eating was interrupted by glorious Mexican food *drool* and my every day exercise wasn't exactly every day anymore. But I traded running/walking for spurts of running uphill and swimming for hours. And while I may have indulged in huevos rancheros, I didn't even have one single french fry when we drove through McDonalds and every other person got food on our road trip.
Yesterday after spending a week down south and a few days nurturing myself, I returned to walk beside the ocean for the first time since that new moon. My intentions were many; exercise my body, charge with the vitamin D fueling this full moon, talk to the ocean and check in to see how I was feeling. The sky was filled with rays exploding behind dark clouds and I found myself running down blocks I generally walk. I wanted and needed to reach the ocean as quickly as possible. Before my feet even hit the sand, my eyes landed on a girl wearing a crown dancing in the sand while her sister sat a few feet away wearing a glitter black cat mask tied around her head with shiny black ribbons. I crossed the sand and as the completion of mile #1 was announced I decided I wasn't going to push myself physically or mentally. I'd let my shuffle continue to play and I'd walk as fast as I felt like, stopping whenever I pleased to look at or touch whatever I wanted. I had begun to take working out so seriously that I had forgotten the playful, light-hearted, less serious part of it that was just as important. As mile #2 was announced I swear I saw a shockwave ripple around me. In the exact same spot I had stood in the center of a cracked heart 2 weeks ago, now was a new heart someone had drawn filled with pieces of broken shells. Musing on this idea of broken hearts becoming broken shells and whole hearts I saw bright flashes of orange light at my feet.
When I stop to consider all that I've attracted (and that which I haven't) over the past 2 weeks, I'm presented with quite the spectrum of feelings I'm dancing through. Despite the shift in the sand art, my heart still feels broken in moments but maybe that's the point and in reconciling differences, broken is actually whole and healed or at least on its way?
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Body balance
Today was a complete and utter wash in so many ways. While my idea of productivity lately has been monitoring how far I can push myself physically, today I was prompted to remember the value in rest and how cleansing it too can be. After realizing I hadn't had a rest day in 2 weeks I allowed myself to feed the mildly sluggish feeling this morning and my body rejoiced.
It's about the balance and as an extremist I have to keep reminding myself of that...
It's about the balance and as an extremist I have to keep reminding myself of that...
Monday, August 25, 2014
Intensions
"At the atomic level, tension is produced when atoms or molecules are pulled apart from each other and gain electromagnetic potential energy."
It's a NEW MOON!!!!
...which means it's time to set intentions. Or as someone appropriately Freudian slipped last night, intensions.
I've never written mine publicly and truth be told haven't even set any in quite a few months now but change is good and feeling very necessary right about now. The Virgo new moon is ruled by Mercury - the messenger who darts between the realms of the gods and us humans. This moon is about communication and medicine or health, which also falls under Mercury's care. Our bodies and minds are constantly communicating with us if only we took the time to listen and remember the language.
It seems in some ways I'm ahead of this moon. I've been eating strictly vegan for the last month and monitoring my nutrition along with running/walking 8-10 miles a day and lifting weights. So in the physical sense I have to figure out a way to kick it up a notch. Mental health is just as important and on my daily morning runs I listen to Theta wave binaural beat music and "chant" affirmations simultaneously. Again, I'm feeling the need to kick it up a notch with this moon. So here they are, the tasks, thoughts, feelings, emotions and material goods I wish to charge with energy and manifest.
1. Write everyday. I took a major break and I'm not sure why. It's a habit I'd like to re-instill as it contributes to the health of the mind by encouraging processing, purging and creation.
2. Draw once a week or more. Another habit that disappeared...They say that life imitates art moreso than art imitates life. It's but another manifestation tool charged with the energy one invests into it.
3. Self Reiki + 30 min meditation every morning after running. I was all amped up and took both Reiki I and II in the beginning of the summer and it was amazing!!!! And then I got lazy and stopped it. As with anything, the more you flow it the easier it comes every time thereafter.
4. Less reading social media and more reading books. I have about 5 on my shelf waiting to be read. The urge to read rarely happens unless I begin it and then I'm ravenous. There's something to be said about the tactile organic nature of holding a book, feeling the paper between your fingertips and inhaling its story versus scrolling a glass screen.
5. Drink half my weight in ounces of water a day. No more excuses for lack of.
6. Opening new doors career wise down south. I don't want to live in SF much longer.
7. A new computer. I don't know how, when, why, who etc but it's the one material "thing" I've wanted for some time now and would help me tremendously with producing income for myself..
8. I'm asking for healing energy to be sent to every situation that's at odds right now. Cosmic vibrations shifted drastically about a month ago and while there's an amazing new frequency available for access to everyone, old paradigms must be dropped so new ones can be embraced. There's still some I've been struggling with personally and I see the struggle in friends and family along with in the media. I've bounced between old and new several times in the past month and this is my declaration that I will embrace the new and not get sucked into the old.
9. I will practice love as the law. For myself namely as that tends to be the most difficult for me in moments, but towards others as well. I will refrain from negative thoughts and be mindful of all that I take in and put out.
10. I will listen to and trust my inner voice and intuition. I will fearlessly express myself, trusting that when I have something to say, there's reason behind it even if I don't understand it in the moment.
And so it is...
It's a NEW MOON!!!!
...which means it's time to set intentions. Or as someone appropriately Freudian slipped last night, intensions.
I've never written mine publicly and truth be told haven't even set any in quite a few months now but change is good and feeling very necessary right about now. The Virgo new moon is ruled by Mercury - the messenger who darts between the realms of the gods and us humans. This moon is about communication and medicine or health, which also falls under Mercury's care. Our bodies and minds are constantly communicating with us if only we took the time to listen and remember the language.
It seems in some ways I'm ahead of this moon. I've been eating strictly vegan for the last month and monitoring my nutrition along with running/walking 8-10 miles a day and lifting weights. So in the physical sense I have to figure out a way to kick it up a notch. Mental health is just as important and on my daily morning runs I listen to Theta wave binaural beat music and "chant" affirmations simultaneously. Again, I'm feeling the need to kick it up a notch with this moon. So here they are, the tasks, thoughts, feelings, emotions and material goods I wish to charge with energy and manifest.
1. Write everyday. I took a major break and I'm not sure why. It's a habit I'd like to re-instill as it contributes to the health of the mind by encouraging processing, purging and creation.
2. Draw once a week or more. Another habit that disappeared...They say that life imitates art moreso than art imitates life. It's but another manifestation tool charged with the energy one invests into it.
3. Self Reiki + 30 min meditation every morning after running. I was all amped up and took both Reiki I and II in the beginning of the summer and it was amazing!!!! And then I got lazy and stopped it. As with anything, the more you flow it the easier it comes every time thereafter.
4. Less reading social media and more reading books. I have about 5 on my shelf waiting to be read. The urge to read rarely happens unless I begin it and then I'm ravenous. There's something to be said about the tactile organic nature of holding a book, feeling the paper between your fingertips and inhaling its story versus scrolling a glass screen.
5. Drink half my weight in ounces of water a day. No more excuses for lack of.
6. Opening new doors career wise down south. I don't want to live in SF much longer.
7. A new computer. I don't know how, when, why, who etc but it's the one material "thing" I've wanted for some time now and would help me tremendously with producing income for myself..
8. I'm asking for healing energy to be sent to every situation that's at odds right now. Cosmic vibrations shifted drastically about a month ago and while there's an amazing new frequency available for access to everyone, old paradigms must be dropped so new ones can be embraced. There's still some I've been struggling with personally and I see the struggle in friends and family along with in the media. I've bounced between old and new several times in the past month and this is my declaration that I will embrace the new and not get sucked into the old.
9. I will practice love as the law. For myself namely as that tends to be the most difficult for me in moments, but towards others as well. I will refrain from negative thoughts and be mindful of all that I take in and put out.
10. I will listen to and trust my inner voice and intuition. I will fearlessly express myself, trusting that when I have something to say, there's reason behind it even if I don't understand it in the moment.
And so it is...
Sunday, August 24, 2014
Melting the moon and swallowing shadows
It began one and a half moon cycles ago. I'm not sure why that Capricorn moon was so potent in shifting things but that's when I first began noticing the change. He was grumpy and virtually non responsive. It's funny how attached to people I still get. When I look at the number of those no longer in my life you'd think I'd learn to deal with people with a sense of detachment.
Whether he was aware of it or not, we had spent the previous 3 full moons together. "Can you see her yet? She's beautiful here." Despite the distance between us, photos were sent, conversations bounced back and forth all night through text and he serenaded me every time. My phone rang and music began to play. I'd picture him holding his phone up to his speaker and smile at the simple romanticism of it. They were all love songs with intense beats and soulful lyrics.
Coming from a man who I've struggled with since we met and whom I've loved more intensely than I've ever known before, I valued those moments maybe more than I should have. I honestly don't know. Either way when none of this happened in July I wondered if it was a fluke and tried to talk myself out of feeling disappointed. We began to plan travel together and therein began the disagreements and sponging each other's emotions...
After struggling in a more intimate manner for the past few years I've come to realize that we are catalysts for one another. For as much laughter, love, intense lust, and lighthearted silliness as we can share, there's been just as much darkness. We provoke each other like no other and for me, keen on shedding my skin and growing, I'd have it no other way. I value him immensely as he is the one who stands up to me and shows me what I'm not seeing about myself. One of my "problems" or rather part of my imbalance has been loving him to the detriment of loving myself. I was choosing someone else rather than myself. This has happened at numerous points in my life but only through the shadow he and I shared was I able to really truly clearly understand this and then transmute all the reasons as to why I was doing this. And it only took 4 years. :) It's that whole "put your own oxygen mask on first" thing. Which I love to preach to those around me who complain that I'm selfish but it was made glaringly clear to me that I wasn't actually following that "rule".
Two and a half moons cycles later and I'm finding myself overflowing with love. The kind that I haven't felt in awhile. The fearless kind. The unconditional kind. The kind that gives you enough adrenaline to lift a car and save a life. I woke up right before the earthquake this morning and as everything rocked and rolled I felt the shift in my soul. My heart cracked open and I knew it was time to speak my truth and be confident in living it trusting that all the pieces would fall where they're supposed to. Tonight I spoke what needed to be said rather than cowering passively as I had become so accustomed to doing. I lied to the world and myself for too long and it's been a tiring few years of sitting pretty afraid to offend anyone and lose them. I am not that weak girl ashamed of her voice or thoughts or desires or intuition anymore. I don't even know when I became her but I've loved the strength back into her.
On the cusp of this new Virgin moon, I'm exploding with energy as though it were a full one. I've healed myself and now it's time to truly help others the way I've been training to.
Whether he was aware of it or not, we had spent the previous 3 full moons together. "Can you see her yet? She's beautiful here." Despite the distance between us, photos were sent, conversations bounced back and forth all night through text and he serenaded me every time. My phone rang and music began to play. I'd picture him holding his phone up to his speaker and smile at the simple romanticism of it. They were all love songs with intense beats and soulful lyrics.
Coming from a man who I've struggled with since we met and whom I've loved more intensely than I've ever known before, I valued those moments maybe more than I should have. I honestly don't know. Either way when none of this happened in July I wondered if it was a fluke and tried to talk myself out of feeling disappointed. We began to plan travel together and therein began the disagreements and sponging each other's emotions...
After struggling in a more intimate manner for the past few years I've come to realize that we are catalysts for one another. For as much laughter, love, intense lust, and lighthearted silliness as we can share, there's been just as much darkness. We provoke each other like no other and for me, keen on shedding my skin and growing, I'd have it no other way. I value him immensely as he is the one who stands up to me and shows me what I'm not seeing about myself. One of my "problems" or rather part of my imbalance has been loving him to the detriment of loving myself. I was choosing someone else rather than myself. This has happened at numerous points in my life but only through the shadow he and I shared was I able to really truly clearly understand this and then transmute all the reasons as to why I was doing this. And it only took 4 years. :) It's that whole "put your own oxygen mask on first" thing. Which I love to preach to those around me who complain that I'm selfish but it was made glaringly clear to me that I wasn't actually following that "rule".
Two and a half moons cycles later and I'm finding myself overflowing with love. The kind that I haven't felt in awhile. The fearless kind. The unconditional kind. The kind that gives you enough adrenaline to lift a car and save a life. I woke up right before the earthquake this morning and as everything rocked and rolled I felt the shift in my soul. My heart cracked open and I knew it was time to speak my truth and be confident in living it trusting that all the pieces would fall where they're supposed to. Tonight I spoke what needed to be said rather than cowering passively as I had become so accustomed to doing. I lied to the world and myself for too long and it's been a tiring few years of sitting pretty afraid to offend anyone and lose them. I am not that weak girl ashamed of her voice or thoughts or desires or intuition anymore. I don't even know when I became her but I've loved the strength back into her.
On the cusp of this new Virgin moon, I'm exploding with energy as though it were a full one. I've healed myself and now it's time to truly help others the way I've been training to.
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Que sera sera
I've been itching to write. About everything and about nothing. So much has happened since I last wrote yet at the same time nothing has actually changed. Yet. It feels like I'm cooking a feast and have spent days (months?) gathering ingredients, and then more days (months) preparing those ingredients. And for the past 2 weeks I've been slowly beginning to cook each dish for this feast. None of the courses are ready to be served just yet but the various aromas are swirling around, dancing in the air. My skin is soaked in these various scents, I'm hungry and it's almost time to eat... Finally.
Saturday, April 19, 2014
Quality
I've been seeing this string of words, posted as a photo every so often recently on Instagram and Facebook. Of course, now I can't find it to post it but it says something along the lines of:
"Maybe your love isn't the problem, maybe it's the quality of people you're loving."
That's what I woke up with in my head this morning. And I'm torn. I genuinely believe everyone serves a purpose and everyone deserves love. Yet in keeping with the theme of my last post and believing things are never in our heads unnecessarily, I have to sit here and question the quality of nutrition I've allowed myself to digest in recent times. At this point, I don't feel I have room or time for anything not reciprocated.
As I sat at the beach the other day a friend called and ecstatically shared very personal news that she hadn't shared with anyone else. It was an honor, the level of trust she bestowed me and that I was the first she wanted to spill to. We've spoken maybe twice in like 7 months. She is a being who is living authentically, following her heart and though she may have a protective bubble being extremely sensitive, she doesn't have walls. She faces her true self and thus has no issues with facing others. She sees and honors the divinity in me and I in her.
And then I came home to a Facebook message from a very old friend. We'd had a falling out for reasons I don't remember. His short message requesting information of a mutual acquaintance placed the past in front of my face. He had written me a message in 2009 that I had never responded to. I used to make a habit of not dealing with any perceived conflict, not addressing anything that would make me overly emotional as I was already emotional enough. As I read his message from 2009, he said to me "I had never been so honest to a single human being including myself". That statement hit and vibrated through every cell in my body.
After being (I believe) unintentionally gaslit for the past few years by several people, somehow, someway my head was scrambled into believing I was somehow lying to myself. Constantly questioning, what is it they're seeing that I'm not? What am I lying to myself about? And confusion only made me vibrate lower than I naturally do, drawing even more liars into my life. Like does attract like after all.
I woke up this morning with a swollen heart. I cried for those I love so dearly and for myself. For naively allowing myself to be gaslit. Projection is a tricky one but my eyes feel more open now than ever before and I'm confident in the hand I hold and know what it is I emit. Just because I see people's higher selves, doesn't mean they do and while I'll always feel a devotion to those I love, I've come to the conclusion that liars and gas lighters need to be kept at a distance. I only wish to be surrounded by people living authentically. People who are honest with themselves and thus honest with me. People who believe in themselves and believe in magic. Those with open minds who trust themselves and in turn trust those around them. Maktub.
"Maybe your love isn't the problem, maybe it's the quality of people you're loving."
That's what I woke up with in my head this morning. And I'm torn. I genuinely believe everyone serves a purpose and everyone deserves love. Yet in keeping with the theme of my last post and believing things are never in our heads unnecessarily, I have to sit here and question the quality of nutrition I've allowed myself to digest in recent times. At this point, I don't feel I have room or time for anything not reciprocated.
As I sat at the beach the other day a friend called and ecstatically shared very personal news that she hadn't shared with anyone else. It was an honor, the level of trust she bestowed me and that I was the first she wanted to spill to. We've spoken maybe twice in like 7 months. She is a being who is living authentically, following her heart and though she may have a protective bubble being extremely sensitive, she doesn't have walls. She faces her true self and thus has no issues with facing others. She sees and honors the divinity in me and I in her.
And then I came home to a Facebook message from a very old friend. We'd had a falling out for reasons I don't remember. His short message requesting information of a mutual acquaintance placed the past in front of my face. He had written me a message in 2009 that I had never responded to. I used to make a habit of not dealing with any perceived conflict, not addressing anything that would make me overly emotional as I was already emotional enough. As I read his message from 2009, he said to me "I had never been so honest to a single human being including myself". That statement hit and vibrated through every cell in my body.
After being (I believe) unintentionally gaslit for the past few years by several people, somehow, someway my head was scrambled into believing I was somehow lying to myself. Constantly questioning, what is it they're seeing that I'm not? What am I lying to myself about? And confusion only made me vibrate lower than I naturally do, drawing even more liars into my life. Like does attract like after all.
I woke up this morning with a swollen heart. I cried for those I love so dearly and for myself. For naively allowing myself to be gaslit. Projection is a tricky one but my eyes feel more open now than ever before and I'm confident in the hand I hold and know what it is I emit. Just because I see people's higher selves, doesn't mean they do and while I'll always feel a devotion to those I love, I've come to the conclusion that liars and gas lighters need to be kept at a distance. I only wish to be surrounded by people living authentically. People who are honest with themselves and thus honest with me. People who believe in themselves and believe in magic. Those with open minds who trust themselves and in turn trust those around them. Maktub.
Friday, April 18, 2014
I'm going hunting... I'm the hunter.
Yesterday concluded a chapter and a lesson that had weaved it's way through several chapters prior, beginning I believe, when I moved to New York. Somehow I shapeshifted into a scavenger rather than a hunter.
Last week at work our new vet tech was explaining to me how stray dogs will literally eat rocks if they can't find meat. Just so that there's something in their stomach. Something to weigh them down offering the illusion of being full. While I can't say I've even metaphorically eaten rocks, I definitely have scavenged and accepted whatever I could find regardless of the quality of nutrition it offered me. When you feel like you're starving, I suppose anything will do and my tendency to "find the good" in everything didn't help my cause. I fucking missed being a hunter.
So yesterday I quit my job. Like so many other things I accepted over the past few years, it was a position or role I was cast into by others rather than one I wanted and chose for myself. I felt empowered by my decision knowing that I deserve more across the board and proud for standing up for myself. As I relayed what happened afterwards to my best friend, all kinds of things that ended in my favor that I had forgotten returned to the forefront of my mind and I felt yet another surge of power. Yesterday I was fire. And it's only just begun.
While addressing a complaint he had a few weeks ago, it became clear I had the same complaint. We allow ourselves limitations for a myriad of reasons. Either we don't feel worthy of something greater, or we end up feeling responsible for someone else's happiness, or we feel we must adhere to the rules we've agreed to. Yet, at any time, we can change our course. My excuse in NY was that I had to wait my lease out, when in fact the management company was perfectly fine with signing it over to someone else. I set myself free by communicating what I wanted, what I knew my soul needed. Life always helps you out when you allow your heart to guide you. The universe does in fact conspire and bend to your will.
And so once again I set myself free from the limitations I imposed upon myself. Blank slate on which to create. It's hunting season and the earth is ripe for fertilization.
Last week at work our new vet tech was explaining to me how stray dogs will literally eat rocks if they can't find meat. Just so that there's something in their stomach. Something to weigh them down offering the illusion of being full. While I can't say I've even metaphorically eaten rocks, I definitely have scavenged and accepted whatever I could find regardless of the quality of nutrition it offered me. When you feel like you're starving, I suppose anything will do and my tendency to "find the good" in everything didn't help my cause. I fucking missed being a hunter.
So yesterday I quit my job. Like so many other things I accepted over the past few years, it was a position or role I was cast into by others rather than one I wanted and chose for myself. I felt empowered by my decision knowing that I deserve more across the board and proud for standing up for myself. As I relayed what happened afterwards to my best friend, all kinds of things that ended in my favor that I had forgotten returned to the forefront of my mind and I felt yet another surge of power. Yesterday I was fire. And it's only just begun.
While addressing a complaint he had a few weeks ago, it became clear I had the same complaint. We allow ourselves limitations for a myriad of reasons. Either we don't feel worthy of something greater, or we end up feeling responsible for someone else's happiness, or we feel we must adhere to the rules we've agreed to. Yet, at any time, we can change our course. My excuse in NY was that I had to wait my lease out, when in fact the management company was perfectly fine with signing it over to someone else. I set myself free by communicating what I wanted, what I knew my soul needed. Life always helps you out when you allow your heart to guide you. The universe does in fact conspire and bend to your will.
And so once again I set myself free from the limitations I imposed upon myself. Blank slate on which to create. It's hunting season and the earth is ripe for fertilization.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
When chaos calls
Today marks the beginning of the astrological new year. The build up of this new moon in Aries conjunct Uranus has led my mind meandering down places forgotten. A friend mentioned she was shopping for Dinah Shore the other day. An event of a past life I had worked twice and hadn't thought about for years.
The second year began for me in complete chaos. I remembered how Danielle drove me half way to the airport only to remember I had forgotten my ID. Needless to say I missed my flight and had to fly solo without the rest of the worker bees. When I got to Palm Springs, I also discovered I had forgotten to bring my main makeup bag and my phone charger. In those days, my main makeup bag was like my holy grail. Among my essentials, it contained my bare canvas paint that I needed if the makeup I applied was to last while working 12+ hours in the heat of Palm Springs. My phone charger made its way down to me the following day with a friend who left later but makeup wise, I was forced to be creative and work with what I had.
There's some quote that floats around from time to time on the web about success is when opportunity meets preparation. While I guess it depends on your definition of success, personally it seems my opportunities have almost always arrived when I wasn't prepared. Perhaps in an attempt to show me what I'm capable of? Idk. But as I looked through past Dinah Shore photos I remembered that was when I was gifted with the opportunity to do makeup on still, the biggest celebrity I've done to date. With very minimal makeup of my own, and no kit as I wasn't anticipating doing anyone's makeup aside from my own, my old coworker who I wasn't even on good terms with called me to ask for help. She hadn't thought she needed any other artists and was faced with the task of doing about 12 faces in an hour and a half for a fashion show at the event. With one kit between the 2 of us we made it happen and I got to do Jenni Shimizu's face.
I doubt I'm alone in the preparedness, or lack there of factor. Where sometimes it is a matter of being prepared - creating space or purchasing tools in anticipation of a project you'd like to see happen, other times I think it's a matter of saying yes to the opportunity and allowing life to then provide you with the tools. Musings of a new moon...
The second year began for me in complete chaos. I remembered how Danielle drove me half way to the airport only to remember I had forgotten my ID. Needless to say I missed my flight and had to fly solo without the rest of the worker bees. When I got to Palm Springs, I also discovered I had forgotten to bring my main makeup bag and my phone charger. In those days, my main makeup bag was like my holy grail. Among my essentials, it contained my bare canvas paint that I needed if the makeup I applied was to last while working 12+ hours in the heat of Palm Springs. My phone charger made its way down to me the following day with a friend who left later but makeup wise, I was forced to be creative and work with what I had.
There's some quote that floats around from time to time on the web about success is when opportunity meets preparation. While I guess it depends on your definition of success, personally it seems my opportunities have almost always arrived when I wasn't prepared. Perhaps in an attempt to show me what I'm capable of? Idk. But as I looked through past Dinah Shore photos I remembered that was when I was gifted with the opportunity to do makeup on still, the biggest celebrity I've done to date. With very minimal makeup of my own, and no kit as I wasn't anticipating doing anyone's makeup aside from my own, my old coworker who I wasn't even on good terms with called me to ask for help. She hadn't thought she needed any other artists and was faced with the task of doing about 12 faces in an hour and a half for a fashion show at the event. With one kit between the 2 of us we made it happen and I got to do Jenni Shimizu's face.
I doubt I'm alone in the preparedness, or lack there of factor. Where sometimes it is a matter of being prepared - creating space or purchasing tools in anticipation of a project you'd like to see happen, other times I think it's a matter of saying yes to the opportunity and allowing life to then provide you with the tools. Musings of a new moon...
Saturday, March 15, 2014
Directions by moonlight
I'm amused by any word ending in ion. Comprehension. Relation. Communication. Expression. Direction. And it's only fitting that as a cat woman I'm a fan of cations though I'm aware anions are necessary. Universal balance and all that chemical jazz.
Direction. Upon seeing the postcard I referred to in my last post in full lighting rather than ambient, next to the hummingbird, imprinted were words detailing the energies of the 4 directions:
South - shed your past
West - learn to walk with your shadow
North - Savor the sweetness of living
East - fulfill your destiny
While aware of directional guardians per indigenous belief, (hawks, crows, eagles and owls), I don't think I ever came across the sacred directions defined in such a simple way.
Which led me to wonder...aside from being born with a plethora of energy that's naturally comfortable with the underworld, did I also grow up learning to walk with my shadow being raised out west? Or is west my 0 point and thus any travel in any direction from this point only then harnesses the energies associated with each? Either way, with these directional "definitions" in mind it's interesting to replay my various travels and moves.
Driving southwest from NY I most certainly was shedding and purging. Moving once again and driving north from LA to SF I for sure am savoring the sweetness of living. The interesting thing is that the entire time I was in NY it felt as though I was hardcore learning to walk with my shadow. Perhaps that was a major player in fulfilling my destiny?
I can't be sure at this point though since moving back to SF I've felt far more of a kinship with the sun, while in NY I couldn't help but be obsessed by the moon. On my day off earlier this week I had the urge to replace my moonstone ring. The stone came loose from the setting in LA and they've been separated ever since, sharing a drawer in my jewelry box. At the same store my initial ring came from, I searched the shelves for something similar. I didn't quite understand the moonstone obsession I was feeling (still don't) but it was just something I had to do. Among every single ring in the store, the only one I fell in love with was this.
Something about it just felt right and after all this musing on directions and shadows it seems to make sense. I've finally learned to own my moon; own my shadows.
Direction. Upon seeing the postcard I referred to in my last post in full lighting rather than ambient, next to the hummingbird, imprinted were words detailing the energies of the 4 directions:
South - shed your past
West - learn to walk with your shadow
North - Savor the sweetness of living
East - fulfill your destiny
While aware of directional guardians per indigenous belief, (hawks, crows, eagles and owls), I don't think I ever came across the sacred directions defined in such a simple way.
Which led me to wonder...aside from being born with a plethora of energy that's naturally comfortable with the underworld, did I also grow up learning to walk with my shadow being raised out west? Or is west my 0 point and thus any travel in any direction from this point only then harnesses the energies associated with each? Either way, with these directional "definitions" in mind it's interesting to replay my various travels and moves.
Driving southwest from NY I most certainly was shedding and purging. Moving once again and driving north from LA to SF I for sure am savoring the sweetness of living. The interesting thing is that the entire time I was in NY it felt as though I was hardcore learning to walk with my shadow. Perhaps that was a major player in fulfilling my destiny?
I can't be sure at this point though since moving back to SF I've felt far more of a kinship with the sun, while in NY I couldn't help but be obsessed by the moon. On my day off earlier this week I had the urge to replace my moonstone ring. The stone came loose from the setting in LA and they've been separated ever since, sharing a drawer in my jewelry box. At the same store my initial ring came from, I searched the shelves for something similar. I didn't quite understand the moonstone obsession I was feeling (still don't) but it was just something I had to do. Among every single ring in the store, the only one I fell in love with was this.
Something about it just felt right and after all this musing on directions and shadows it seems to make sense. I've finally learned to own my moon; own my shadows.
Sonoluminescence
While sound is always relevant in any beings life, it's seemed to step to the forefront of my sensual experience in recent years and become oh so strong in recent months. Or perhaps it's just that I've learned to listen with my eyes too?
A few days ago I was fed some graphic image on Facebook detailing sonoluminescence which as synchronicity would have it, is characterized by an equation attributed to Lord Rayleigh who continuously pops up in my world. He's one of my favorite spirit animals. Anyhow, sonoluminescence is pretty much seeing sound. The burst of light seen only occurs because it's caused by sound.
A few weeks ago I attended a shamanic circle and in between journeys a postcard somehow ended up on the couch I was lying on. In the dim ambient lighting I was able to make out a hummingbird. They've been visiting me ever since landing in LA and actually, to be more precise I traveled across the country with one in human form. Now in SF, they've continued to visit periodically. After one of the journeys, we shared in groups of 3 and one of my trio recounted how his clan had dressed him like a samurai and showed him proper posturing, telling him he needs to begin presenting himself to the world in this manner. I shared how generally in my visions I only see faces and while I greet each animals I meet whether in waking life or the astral realm, I rarely recall actually conversing with them in a vocal manner. The man who shared his samurai vision suggested I ask "may I see all of you?" and that I vocally converse with them.
The next morning I had my coffee outside before getting ready for work and a hummingbird joined me. I greeted him, said good morning and asked if I could get closer and see all of him. With 2 feet between us he began to chirp and talk and danced around hovering in front of me beating his tiny wings revealing the brilliant red feathers hidden beneath the green. And then from somewhere in the corners of my memory I pulled the statement I had read about them being warrior birds and laughed to myself recalling the samurai vision shared with me. 5 mins later, out of the blue my hummingbird human friend texted me "The Aztecs believed that warriors came back as Hummingbirds after they died." A giant swirl of synchronicity and animal medicine. *swoon*
I've since taught myself to speak parts of their language, mimicking their sound. And though I have no clue what I may be saying, I think certain thoughts while I vocalize and they respond every time diving into my field of view and showing me all of themselves. Morning coffee outside has slowly become a ritual and other animals join me as well. Sonoluminescence. Talk to the animals. They'll respond so long as love and respect for their being are present in your vocalizations.
A few days ago I was fed some graphic image on Facebook detailing sonoluminescence which as synchronicity would have it, is characterized by an equation attributed to Lord Rayleigh who continuously pops up in my world. He's one of my favorite spirit animals. Anyhow, sonoluminescence is pretty much seeing sound. The burst of light seen only occurs because it's caused by sound.
A few weeks ago I attended a shamanic circle and in between journeys a postcard somehow ended up on the couch I was lying on. In the dim ambient lighting I was able to make out a hummingbird. They've been visiting me ever since landing in LA and actually, to be more precise I traveled across the country with one in human form. Now in SF, they've continued to visit periodically. After one of the journeys, we shared in groups of 3 and one of my trio recounted how his clan had dressed him like a samurai and showed him proper posturing, telling him he needs to begin presenting himself to the world in this manner. I shared how generally in my visions I only see faces and while I greet each animals I meet whether in waking life or the astral realm, I rarely recall actually conversing with them in a vocal manner. The man who shared his samurai vision suggested I ask "may I see all of you?" and that I vocally converse with them.
The next morning I had my coffee outside before getting ready for work and a hummingbird joined me. I greeted him, said good morning and asked if I could get closer and see all of him. With 2 feet between us he began to chirp and talk and danced around hovering in front of me beating his tiny wings revealing the brilliant red feathers hidden beneath the green. And then from somewhere in the corners of my memory I pulled the statement I had read about them being warrior birds and laughed to myself recalling the samurai vision shared with me. 5 mins later, out of the blue my hummingbird human friend texted me "The Aztecs believed that warriors came back as Hummingbirds after they died." A giant swirl of synchronicity and animal medicine. *swoon*
I've since taught myself to speak parts of their language, mimicking their sound. And though I have no clue what I may be saying, I think certain thoughts while I vocalize and they respond every time diving into my field of view and showing me all of themselves. Morning coffee outside has slowly become a ritual and other animals join me as well. Sonoluminescence. Talk to the animals. They'll respond so long as love and respect for their being are present in your vocalizations.
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Astral Adventures/Dream Backlog
Night of 2/23 - Morning of 2/24
I've just moved into a new home and we've spent most of our day in the living room unpacking, dealing with stuff etc. Walking into the bedroom, it's night and there's neon lights coming through the window. I glance out to see some kind of animal experience happening. There's 3 guys in wetsuits and otters and dolphins playing with them in the harbor. I open the window and salty air floods my nostrils as I smile at the sight in front of me. We step out to explore the silent streets and wander along the waterfront. Aside from the boats, every single shop sells only one thing, neon signs.
Night of 2/27 - Morning of 2/28
A beautiful woman with beaming vibrant eyes is standing in front of me. Her smile is warm and she's holding a spoon filled with a glowing luminescent blue liquid up to my lips. I glance at the bottle in her left hand and it appears to be ancient as though it sat in a tomb for millions of moons; the kind of craftsmanship that doesn't exist today. It's made of glass and metal, embedded with stones. Before parting my lips I ask if the medicine may be expired as it seemed to be so old. She laughed and explained that there was no expiration date. It slid down my throat warming my body and made me feel like I was floating.
Night of 3/1 - Morning of 3/2
I was in a car with my first boyfriend though time wise it was present day. We were driving fast and passed a girl in her wedding dress and presumably her mother- both looking pissed as we drove by. "thanks for saving me from that." he said, dressed in a suit. I wasn't dressed up by any means and it became clear he felt I had somehow stopped his wedding? So we're driving up a windy road and the car no longer had a windshield. We come across a group of guys and their motorcycles drinking and they begin to throw eggs at us. I catch each one without them breaking. We stop the car and his friend Luke comes up. They start laughing and talking and drinking and being boys. I'm wandering around and come across people playing basketball and others on blankets having picnics. As I'm taking everything in, I look over and see the basketball just as it's hitting a small girls head decapitating her. No one moves and I'm filled with rage as I get closer screaming at them all the while. My screaming and words appear to make all the people picnicking notice what just happened and I see them stand slowly one by one, curious about the fuss being made. As I get closer myself, I realize the body is just that. A body. She was a doll. Not a little girl. No one had actually been harmed. My ex appears, drunk, and I tell Luke to go help his boy.
I've just moved into a new home and we've spent most of our day in the living room unpacking, dealing with stuff etc. Walking into the bedroom, it's night and there's neon lights coming through the window. I glance out to see some kind of animal experience happening. There's 3 guys in wetsuits and otters and dolphins playing with them in the harbor. I open the window and salty air floods my nostrils as I smile at the sight in front of me. We step out to explore the silent streets and wander along the waterfront. Aside from the boats, every single shop sells only one thing, neon signs.
Night of 2/27 - Morning of 2/28
A beautiful woman with beaming vibrant eyes is standing in front of me. Her smile is warm and she's holding a spoon filled with a glowing luminescent blue liquid up to my lips. I glance at the bottle in her left hand and it appears to be ancient as though it sat in a tomb for millions of moons; the kind of craftsmanship that doesn't exist today. It's made of glass and metal, embedded with stones. Before parting my lips I ask if the medicine may be expired as it seemed to be so old. She laughed and explained that there was no expiration date. It slid down my throat warming my body and made me feel like I was floating.
Night of 3/1 - Morning of 3/2
I was in a car with my first boyfriend though time wise it was present day. We were driving fast and passed a girl in her wedding dress and presumably her mother- both looking pissed as we drove by. "thanks for saving me from that." he said, dressed in a suit. I wasn't dressed up by any means and it became clear he felt I had somehow stopped his wedding? So we're driving up a windy road and the car no longer had a windshield. We come across a group of guys and their motorcycles drinking and they begin to throw eggs at us. I catch each one without them breaking. We stop the car and his friend Luke comes up. They start laughing and talking and drinking and being boys. I'm wandering around and come across people playing basketball and others on blankets having picnics. As I'm taking everything in, I look over and see the basketball just as it's hitting a small girls head decapitating her. No one moves and I'm filled with rage as I get closer screaming at them all the while. My screaming and words appear to make all the people picnicking notice what just happened and I see them stand slowly one by one, curious about the fuss being made. As I get closer myself, I realize the body is just that. A body. She was a doll. Not a little girl. No one had actually been harmed. My ex appears, drunk, and I tell Luke to go help his boy.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Astral Adventures: Calico Kali
Last night I had 2 very vivid dreams (that I recall) and I completely woke up in between them. Woke up meaning I got up, used the restroom, looked in the mirror etc. In the first I was walking out to my backyard and there were two raccoons and five calico cats. Raccoon energy has been around me a lot lately and the two in my dream have actually consistently been coming to my house in waking life as well so they didn't surprise me. I live with two Calico cats so that didn't surprise me either. What did get my blood pumping with awe was when I asked the cats if they were hungry, if they wanted to eat and all 5 lined up in a longitude line south to north and shifted their shapes into human beings. They smiled yet never spoke. I walked over and found my backyard had also shifted into a forest. One tree had become many and everything was natural, not gardened. It was night and everything was cast with a blue hue. The human cat closest to me held his left hand out and motioned for me to follow him. As I did, he swung his arm in front of him and it began to glow and give off sparks. But not firey sparks, more like fluorescence. I noticed a similar light coming from behind a tree and as we got closer I saw the other 4 human cats standing in a circle talking with a faerie who was glowing with that same blue fluorescence. The trees and all the plants around them were lit up as well. She looked at me and smiled...and then I woke up.
While I can and have already psychoanalyzed this over several times, I'm not gonna write about my findings. The words would dull how immensely beautiful everything was. What I will note is that my kittens were spayed 2 weeks ago. The night before their surgery I had a dream in which some being seemed to be consulting with me about them - like a pre surgical examination. But it wasn't about anything physically and what I was told was that Nixie was with me as one of my guardians. Which, looking back makes way too much sense but again, I'm not going down that road right now.
The second dream left me wide awake, walking to the store to buy coffee at 6:45am (on my day off) because I wanted to move in the silence of the empty streets to really dive deep into what had just been shown to me.
While the beginning may matter, this is the middle-end. I'm at what I thought was a giant pool party with four other girls. No clue who they were but apparently we were friends. One of them and myself went to the back of the house, though it was more of a mansion than a house. There's chaos everywhere as models are being tugged into clothes in various different rooms. The room we were in while chaotic, was still pleasant- that light hearted excited chaos that buzzes in the air. I'm gathering my stuff (apparently I had worked?) and the friend and I stop to take a photo. I look in the mirror and see myself wearing a long wrap skirt that opens a bit in the front with wind. Both my skirt and top are patterned with vibrant warm colors. The patterns don't match, but they don't clash either which I'm intrigued by as I've never dressed head to toe in (visible) pattern. As we're gathering my stuff to leave and return to the pool, Danielle appears to help me. She grabs my kit and starts to walk to the hallway. People are still talking and she gets pulled into the conversation. The three of us go to leave for good this time and my kit is nowhere to be found amongst the sea of people in the hallway. A bit of panic begins to creep into my brain and she starts apologizing and saying she'll replace it. I mumble about how she can't afford it but I'm not paying her much mind as I'm focused. Hunting. Eyes darting left and right, walking the hallway, glancing in rooms seeing several Zuca's but none are mine. I'm thinking someone must have confused mine with theirs and it'll pop up eventually but what if it doesn't? She's following me and I eventually stop in this area with 3 couches around a table that's covered with makeup. "please don't be mad at me" she says sitting on a couch to the left of the couch I plopped down on. "I'm not mad at you, I'm upset that it was taken because there's products that are irreplaceable and I need to figure out a solution" I say as I'm trying to recall what products I have at home and what PR contacts I have that I might possibly be able to utilize. I barely even noticed the man sitting across from me. He was so calm that I realized he must have just been killing time waiting for his next model. I only became aware he was even there because of her voice "Ohhh what's that?" I looked up to find she had been playing with the makeup on the table and had painted her face blue. He was handing her a pot of gold cream. As I watched her apply it beneath her eyes something clicked and I smiled and screamed "You're Kali!" and then I woke up.
A few months ago I replied to an email from a lost friend catching her up on where I was. In it I explained that while I told everyone including myself that doing makeup was why I moved to New York, I think the reasons were much deeper and...higher. Rather than thinking of it as makeup as in eyeshadow, foundation, eyeliner etc, thinking of it as make up, imagine, create. Make up your life. Learning how to create consciously. Kali is a creator and thus she's also a destroyer. I don't know what her relationship is to Ganesh but elephants have been creeping into my world as well lately and more specifically, Danielle and I have always jointly had a bond with Ganesh. If Kali is somewhat responsible for making my kit disappear, albeit in the astral realm, it's not something to take lightly. And so as I walked to get coffee I mused...
One of the things that I hate is small talk. And small talk on set is especially jarring because people intend to keep it light not knowing the question they ask always takes me to a deep place and they end up diving with me. Where I'm comfortable diving, the same can't always be said for those asking the question. "how did you start doing makeup?" I had leukemia and it was my therapy. As a friend told me a few months ago, "You created something beautiful out of such darkness. You should be proud. Not everyone is capable of that." He's absolutely right and I'm endlessly grateful for the hundreds if not thousands of people I've met because of it. The places I've been, the experiences I've shared, everything I've learned. Universe, from every cell in my soul, thank you.
Yet, I have to rewind and consider a few things. I fell in love with the craft for purely selfish reasons. It enabled me to visually express how I was feeling and who I felt like being in those few hours. Focusing on line placement and color gradation made the constant "Why did this happen to me? How long until I'm healed?" disappear from my mind. I did it purely for myself. Watching my face shift shapes and eyes change color was amazing! For me it was about becoming whatever character I wanted to be. Once I started working at MAC, I began to see that this seemed to be rarely the case among people who would come to the counter. For them, it was about fixing perceived flaws and painting them into this one character that they were comfortable in. I learned to hate, and still to some degree do, applying makeup on "normal women". *yawn* how boring! Play with all your facets! Try on different masks for Christ's sake.
Working in NY was half way satisfying. I had more say in what I applied as models are the canvas. They play the character everyone else applies to them through hair, makeup, clothing, lighting etc They are creatively directed and bring that vision to life. Yet I say half way because there's still industry standards for most things unless you're testing or working with a really open minded client.
All things considered, I don't want to stop doing makeup. I don't think that was the point of the dream. If I am to think of my kit as my essential potions for creation, my "magic hat" then it's time for some serious revamping. Removing some to make room for others. Upgrade across the board. New, new, new. I've done this bit by bit over the last few years with my actual kit but much like the dream, perhaps it's time to lay it all out on the table and redefine what belongs there. And then go find whatever is missing. It's time to create some new characters and shift the story. My new response will be "I liked playing with colors and creating characters."
While I can and have already psychoanalyzed this over several times, I'm not gonna write about my findings. The words would dull how immensely beautiful everything was. What I will note is that my kittens were spayed 2 weeks ago. The night before their surgery I had a dream in which some being seemed to be consulting with me about them - like a pre surgical examination. But it wasn't about anything physically and what I was told was that Nixie was with me as one of my guardians. Which, looking back makes way too much sense but again, I'm not going down that road right now.
The second dream left me wide awake, walking to the store to buy coffee at 6:45am (on my day off) because I wanted to move in the silence of the empty streets to really dive deep into what had just been shown to me.
While the beginning may matter, this is the middle-end. I'm at what I thought was a giant pool party with four other girls. No clue who they were but apparently we were friends. One of them and myself went to the back of the house, though it was more of a mansion than a house. There's chaos everywhere as models are being tugged into clothes in various different rooms. The room we were in while chaotic, was still pleasant- that light hearted excited chaos that buzzes in the air. I'm gathering my stuff (apparently I had worked?) and the friend and I stop to take a photo. I look in the mirror and see myself wearing a long wrap skirt that opens a bit in the front with wind. Both my skirt and top are patterned with vibrant warm colors. The patterns don't match, but they don't clash either which I'm intrigued by as I've never dressed head to toe in (visible) pattern. As we're gathering my stuff to leave and return to the pool, Danielle appears to help me. She grabs my kit and starts to walk to the hallway. People are still talking and she gets pulled into the conversation. The three of us go to leave for good this time and my kit is nowhere to be found amongst the sea of people in the hallway. A bit of panic begins to creep into my brain and she starts apologizing and saying she'll replace it. I mumble about how she can't afford it but I'm not paying her much mind as I'm focused. Hunting. Eyes darting left and right, walking the hallway, glancing in rooms seeing several Zuca's but none are mine. I'm thinking someone must have confused mine with theirs and it'll pop up eventually but what if it doesn't? She's following me and I eventually stop in this area with 3 couches around a table that's covered with makeup. "please don't be mad at me" she says sitting on a couch to the left of the couch I plopped down on. "I'm not mad at you, I'm upset that it was taken because there's products that are irreplaceable and I need to figure out a solution" I say as I'm trying to recall what products I have at home and what PR contacts I have that I might possibly be able to utilize. I barely even noticed the man sitting across from me. He was so calm that I realized he must have just been killing time waiting for his next model. I only became aware he was even there because of her voice "Ohhh what's that?" I looked up to find she had been playing with the makeup on the table and had painted her face blue. He was handing her a pot of gold cream. As I watched her apply it beneath her eyes something clicked and I smiled and screamed "You're Kali!" and then I woke up.
A few months ago I replied to an email from a lost friend catching her up on where I was. In it I explained that while I told everyone including myself that doing makeup was why I moved to New York, I think the reasons were much deeper and...higher. Rather than thinking of it as makeup as in eyeshadow, foundation, eyeliner etc, thinking of it as make up, imagine, create. Make up your life. Learning how to create consciously. Kali is a creator and thus she's also a destroyer. I don't know what her relationship is to Ganesh but elephants have been creeping into my world as well lately and more specifically, Danielle and I have always jointly had a bond with Ganesh. If Kali is somewhat responsible for making my kit disappear, albeit in the astral realm, it's not something to take lightly. And so as I walked to get coffee I mused...
One of the things that I hate is small talk. And small talk on set is especially jarring because people intend to keep it light not knowing the question they ask always takes me to a deep place and they end up diving with me. Where I'm comfortable diving, the same can't always be said for those asking the question. "how did you start doing makeup?" I had leukemia and it was my therapy. As a friend told me a few months ago, "You created something beautiful out of such darkness. You should be proud. Not everyone is capable of that." He's absolutely right and I'm endlessly grateful for the hundreds if not thousands of people I've met because of it. The places I've been, the experiences I've shared, everything I've learned. Universe, from every cell in my soul, thank you.
Yet, I have to rewind and consider a few things. I fell in love with the craft for purely selfish reasons. It enabled me to visually express how I was feeling and who I felt like being in those few hours. Focusing on line placement and color gradation made the constant "Why did this happen to me? How long until I'm healed?" disappear from my mind. I did it purely for myself. Watching my face shift shapes and eyes change color was amazing! For me it was about becoming whatever character I wanted to be. Once I started working at MAC, I began to see that this seemed to be rarely the case among people who would come to the counter. For them, it was about fixing perceived flaws and painting them into this one character that they were comfortable in. I learned to hate, and still to some degree do, applying makeup on "normal women". *yawn* how boring! Play with all your facets! Try on different masks for Christ's sake.
Working in NY was half way satisfying. I had more say in what I applied as models are the canvas. They play the character everyone else applies to them through hair, makeup, clothing, lighting etc They are creatively directed and bring that vision to life. Yet I say half way because there's still industry standards for most things unless you're testing or working with a really open minded client.
All things considered, I don't want to stop doing makeup. I don't think that was the point of the dream. If I am to think of my kit as my essential potions for creation, my "magic hat" then it's time for some serious revamping. Removing some to make room for others. Upgrade across the board. New, new, new. I've done this bit by bit over the last few years with my actual kit but much like the dream, perhaps it's time to lay it all out on the table and redefine what belongs there. And then go find whatever is missing. It's time to create some new characters and shift the story. My new response will be "I liked playing with colors and creating characters."
Sunday, February 9, 2014
"I knew myself before I knew anyone..."
I remember getting a t shirt as a birthday present from some classmate at my 10th birthday party. It was white and had a photo of a shopping bag with the words "I shop, therefore I am" across the chest.
Am...what? That shirt bothered me for years. I remember asking my parents what it meant and not receiving an answer. Long after the shirt met the end of its days in my world, it's ghost would still saunter through my memory banks teasing my brain about what those words meant and what an odd present it seemed to be for a 10 year old.
This happened from time to time for 17 years until I took a philosophy class and was introduced to Descartes. Only then did the phrase finally, kinda make sense. Though I know it was a play on his words, the choice of "shop" still left me pissed.
This past week was a nuclear week which doesn't happen too often. My sister came to visit and thus the core energy I grew up with, sans any additives, was present. Of course we've all shifted in one way or another over the years so while it may not be the exact interaction, it was still some form of it and quite revealing. I saw behaviors displayed that I had adopted at one point in my life.
"Ohhh so that's where that came from!"
And I'd think to a time when I had exhibited the same behavior and remembered hating myself in the process because it didn't feel right, but it didn't feel like it was something I could stop myself from expressing. And then I'd suddenly feel stronger, realizing that wasn't my innate, core behavior but rather something I'd learned, which meant I could drop it.
The "identity crisis" continues...In an appropriately Uranian kinda way I changed my profile on both twitter and Instagram to say a single word. I don't know who reads those things or if anyone even does but summing myself up with a list of terms to define myself just felt so wrong all of a sudden.
With mercury retrograde my sister visiting felt like a catalyst. Reminding me of what I am, who I am, ways in which I am and conversely reminding me what I am not, who I am not and ways in which I am not. All those "nots" are mostly my mother. Some are negative, others positive but none are truly my own organic unique energy. Watching old videos, viewing old photographs and laying in bed with my sister I'm reminded of who I was before I began to adopt personality traits that aren't actually mine.
I am feisty and playful and my silliness can border on nerdiness. I laugh a lot at tension in a room because it feels ridiculous and tickles me. I am strong and confident 95% of the time. My favorite past time is allowing myself to take flight and get lost in realms of possibility. I am air headed. Spirit lives through me. I am a dreamer. I am endlessly curious. I am stubborn. I know what I want and how I want it. I am flexible. I am strong willed. I believe in the mystical. I am the mystical. I am a caretaker. I am filled with love. I am a hopeless romantic. I enjoy challenging the world from time to time. I am a pot stirrer. I am extremely sensual. I am a creator. I understand more than I ever let on.
Am...what? That shirt bothered me for years. I remember asking my parents what it meant and not receiving an answer. Long after the shirt met the end of its days in my world, it's ghost would still saunter through my memory banks teasing my brain about what those words meant and what an odd present it seemed to be for a 10 year old.
This happened from time to time for 17 years until I took a philosophy class and was introduced to Descartes. Only then did the phrase finally, kinda make sense. Though I know it was a play on his words, the choice of "shop" still left me pissed.
This past week was a nuclear week which doesn't happen too often. My sister came to visit and thus the core energy I grew up with, sans any additives, was present. Of course we've all shifted in one way or another over the years so while it may not be the exact interaction, it was still some form of it and quite revealing. I saw behaviors displayed that I had adopted at one point in my life.
"Ohhh so that's where that came from!"
And I'd think to a time when I had exhibited the same behavior and remembered hating myself in the process because it didn't feel right, but it didn't feel like it was something I could stop myself from expressing. And then I'd suddenly feel stronger, realizing that wasn't my innate, core behavior but rather something I'd learned, which meant I could drop it.
The "identity crisis" continues...In an appropriately Uranian kinda way I changed my profile on both twitter and Instagram to say a single word. I don't know who reads those things or if anyone even does but summing myself up with a list of terms to define myself just felt so wrong all of a sudden.
With mercury retrograde my sister visiting felt like a catalyst. Reminding me of what I am, who I am, ways in which I am and conversely reminding me what I am not, who I am not and ways in which I am not. All those "nots" are mostly my mother. Some are negative, others positive but none are truly my own organic unique energy. Watching old videos, viewing old photographs and laying in bed with my sister I'm reminded of who I was before I began to adopt personality traits that aren't actually mine.
I am feisty and playful and my silliness can border on nerdiness. I laugh a lot at tension in a room because it feels ridiculous and tickles me. I am strong and confident 95% of the time. My favorite past time is allowing myself to take flight and get lost in realms of possibility. I am air headed. Spirit lives through me. I am a dreamer. I am endlessly curious. I am stubborn. I know what I want and how I want it. I am flexible. I am strong willed. I believe in the mystical. I am the mystical. I am a caretaker. I am filled with love. I am a hopeless romantic. I enjoy challenging the world from time to time. I am a pot stirrer. I am extremely sensual. I am a creator. I understand more than I ever let on.
Friday, January 31, 2014
Do, be, do, be...
"The problem with our country is that we seem to be more concerned with what people do for a living than who they are." -Uncle Snooky
So I'm having a bit of an identity...crisis? I'm not sure that's the proper word or even term though as it reeks of dramatic overtones. The feeling I'm attempting to describe is more like a gentle gnawing akin to when you're trying to remember something, its on the tip of your tongue but your brain hasn't made that connection just yet. And it's fucking annoying.
While watching a tv show last night there was a scene in which the "master" says to the student something along the lines of "you're nearly at the completion of your mission. As you know, it is vital that you review where you began, why you began and what you've accomplished in the duration." This exchange (obviously) stood out to me.
When I made the decision to leave New York, I wasn't sure where that choice would leave me job wise and I now find myself shrouded in conflicting thoughts musing to myself about what it all means. I agree with my uncles statement above, and yet for the entire duration of my participation as a working being, I always took the utmost pride in my job. I wore whatever the title was as some sort of accolade to my existence. Yes, it's very much an ego thing but I felt proud with each proclamation: "I am a counselor/teacher/biologist/personaltrainer/makeup artist/bartender" I've had 1 job in 20 years that I did not immerse myself in wholly. 1 job that I didn't love in some capacity. 1 job that was, just a job. It lasted 2 months and I loathed every moment I spent there.
With no means of consistent income since late September, I've had numerous voices from various sources advise me that a job can just be a job and to just get one. And then there are the other voices from various sources proclaiming that when you love what you do, it's not work at all. #ilovemyjob #followyourheart Along with the fact that I suppose I've been spoiled to some degree. The amount of money I've earned per hour has risen successively with every single job I've held. Until now.
Venus goes direct today. She has been retrograde since December 21st and frankly I'm a bit surprised I was able to gain employment at all while she sat in her corner prompting everything she rules- love and money, or more aptly value, be reviewed. And as life would have it, just as she takes her first steps forward in every beings life once again, Mars has collided with my own natal Venus and Pluto. An orgasmic threesome that will play together until July. The fruits of which I will take great pleasure in birthing.
I want to devour my cake. What the fuck is the point of having something you cannot consume? Or rather be consumed by? I'm thinking it's all a matter of balance or temperance and that kinda feels like it'll be a theme this year.
I grew up in a household where my father owned (still does) his own business. He insisted on doing it all himself and has never hired employees. He loves what he does and perhaps that notion has been my strongest guide in shaping the way I navigate my life. Yet if one were to review our family life growing up, he was absent from many vacations and school functions as work nearly always took precedence. While I can't wait for the day that I hold a job I'm passionate about, that doesn't feel like work, I'm also becoming aware of the need for balance. My entire world doesn't need to revolve around my career.
Along with all of these feelings, I'm at a point where I'm trying to figure out how to reintegrate the facets of myself that have laid dormant while still maintaining what I've invested in for the past 10 years. I don't want to stop doing makeup. Yet solely doing makeup isn't fulfilling enough. For now, I suppose I'm off to a start of some kind. I'm working in an animal hospital 3 days a week leaving the other 4 open for freelance work. Tomorrow I'm shooting a lookbook with a photographer whose work I genuinely like and I'm hoping that this will possibly be the beginning of establishing myself in the SF commercial scene.
Career wise, this is all fantastic and lovely but it brings me back to my uncles statement and a scene from August 2010 floods my head. I am sitting on the futon in my living room and my two friends are sitting on the couch opposite me. "You're the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland. Who are you?", states my twin. And there it is. The best answer I can muster up is that I am love. A malleable energy that shifts and shapes itself into what it needs to be at the given moment. A healer. A kaleidoscope of possibilities to those with vision. A flood of darkness to those afraid of their shadow. Welcome back to orbit Venus.
So I'm having a bit of an identity...crisis? I'm not sure that's the proper word or even term though as it reeks of dramatic overtones. The feeling I'm attempting to describe is more like a gentle gnawing akin to when you're trying to remember something, its on the tip of your tongue but your brain hasn't made that connection just yet. And it's fucking annoying.
While watching a tv show last night there was a scene in which the "master" says to the student something along the lines of "you're nearly at the completion of your mission. As you know, it is vital that you review where you began, why you began and what you've accomplished in the duration." This exchange (obviously) stood out to me.
When I made the decision to leave New York, I wasn't sure where that choice would leave me job wise and I now find myself shrouded in conflicting thoughts musing to myself about what it all means. I agree with my uncles statement above, and yet for the entire duration of my participation as a working being, I always took the utmost pride in my job. I wore whatever the title was as some sort of accolade to my existence. Yes, it's very much an ego thing but I felt proud with each proclamation: "I am a counselor/teacher/biologist/personaltrainer/makeup artist/bartender" I've had 1 job in 20 years that I did not immerse myself in wholly. 1 job that I didn't love in some capacity. 1 job that was, just a job. It lasted 2 months and I loathed every moment I spent there.
With no means of consistent income since late September, I've had numerous voices from various sources advise me that a job can just be a job and to just get one. And then there are the other voices from various sources proclaiming that when you love what you do, it's not work at all. #ilovemyjob #followyourheart Along with the fact that I suppose I've been spoiled to some degree. The amount of money I've earned per hour has risen successively with every single job I've held. Until now.
Venus goes direct today. She has been retrograde since December 21st and frankly I'm a bit surprised I was able to gain employment at all while she sat in her corner prompting everything she rules- love and money, or more aptly value, be reviewed. And as life would have it, just as she takes her first steps forward in every beings life once again, Mars has collided with my own natal Venus and Pluto. An orgasmic threesome that will play together until July. The fruits of which I will take great pleasure in birthing.
I want to devour my cake. What the fuck is the point of having something you cannot consume? Or rather be consumed by? I'm thinking it's all a matter of balance or temperance and that kinda feels like it'll be a theme this year.
I grew up in a household where my father owned (still does) his own business. He insisted on doing it all himself and has never hired employees. He loves what he does and perhaps that notion has been my strongest guide in shaping the way I navigate my life. Yet if one were to review our family life growing up, he was absent from many vacations and school functions as work nearly always took precedence. While I can't wait for the day that I hold a job I'm passionate about, that doesn't feel like work, I'm also becoming aware of the need for balance. My entire world doesn't need to revolve around my career.
Along with all of these feelings, I'm at a point where I'm trying to figure out how to reintegrate the facets of myself that have laid dormant while still maintaining what I've invested in for the past 10 years. I don't want to stop doing makeup. Yet solely doing makeup isn't fulfilling enough. For now, I suppose I'm off to a start of some kind. I'm working in an animal hospital 3 days a week leaving the other 4 open for freelance work. Tomorrow I'm shooting a lookbook with a photographer whose work I genuinely like and I'm hoping that this will possibly be the beginning of establishing myself in the SF commercial scene.
Career wise, this is all fantastic and lovely but it brings me back to my uncles statement and a scene from August 2010 floods my head. I am sitting on the futon in my living room and my two friends are sitting on the couch opposite me. "You're the caterpillar in Alice in Wonderland. Who are you?", states my twin. And there it is. The best answer I can muster up is that I am love. A malleable energy that shifts and shapes itself into what it needs to be at the given moment. A healer. A kaleidoscope of possibilities to those with vision. A flood of darkness to those afraid of their shadow. Welcome back to orbit Venus.
Friday, January 17, 2014
Cricket
"Now you HAVE to be like a statue with a smile. You're a rock in the water. Okay?" She smiled with her tiny fingers cupping my face, eyes serious as could be for few moments before throwing her little arms around my neck.
She is Cricket. She is 3 years old and we share the same exact sun (birthday) along with the same Arian moon. 17 years ago, Crickets mom became my boss and mentor guiding me through my teenage years. I'm not sure why but I'm always surprised when people remain in my life in some capacity, and their presence always affects me in a very deep way.
The parallels of life intrigue me. Last weekend I watched both Cricket and her 5 and a half - the half is important ;) - year old brother, Spyder. They were seated, eating their dinner talking about their favorite animals when the lights flickered. I had only been there for maybe 30 mins at this point and though I adore kids, I can't even remember the last time I was responsible for little ones this young. Spyder asked me why the lights had flickered and as he did so, they went out completely for about 10 seconds before turning on again briefly. Both kids immediately moved closer to me freaked, asking what was happening. I held Cricket on my left hip and Spyder with my right hand and we searched for a flashlight and candles. Of course, they went out again.
Spyder successfully remembered where a flashlight was and I tried to alleviate their fear of the dark through shadow puppets and talking about why they were afraid. Intriguingly enough, my own most potent moment of discussing fear of the dark that has remained in my brain, happened with their mom 12 years ago. We were driving slowly through a forest in Yosemite at night when she slowed the car to a stop and turned off the headlights. Screams came from some of the other teens in the van with me but she had created a teaching moment and opened the door for discussion. We sat in that van in the pitch blackness of the forest for at least 10 minutes talking about senses and what made something immediately scary just because you couldn't see it. I found myself tailoring that conversation for her little ones that night. They slept in the dark, right? I reminded Spyder about the days before electricity existed and his affirming that fact helped to soothe his sister as well.
By the time the lights came on, their fear had diminished. We had found a headlamp that Cricket insisted on wearing while Spyder played with one of those light up circus toys. They both love kitties and each pretended they were one of my kittens, jumping on my shoulders. When it was time for bed, we all danced and sang to a barnyard song book. Spyder climbed into his top bunk and as I kneeled in front Cricket she spoke those words above to me before I laid her in bed. The potent wisdom of a sleepy 3 year old.
She is Cricket. She is 3 years old and we share the same exact sun (birthday) along with the same Arian moon. 17 years ago, Crickets mom became my boss and mentor guiding me through my teenage years. I'm not sure why but I'm always surprised when people remain in my life in some capacity, and their presence always affects me in a very deep way.
The parallels of life intrigue me. Last weekend I watched both Cricket and her 5 and a half - the half is important ;) - year old brother, Spyder. They were seated, eating their dinner talking about their favorite animals when the lights flickered. I had only been there for maybe 30 mins at this point and though I adore kids, I can't even remember the last time I was responsible for little ones this young. Spyder asked me why the lights had flickered and as he did so, they went out completely for about 10 seconds before turning on again briefly. Both kids immediately moved closer to me freaked, asking what was happening. I held Cricket on my left hip and Spyder with my right hand and we searched for a flashlight and candles. Of course, they went out again.
Spyder successfully remembered where a flashlight was and I tried to alleviate their fear of the dark through shadow puppets and talking about why they were afraid. Intriguingly enough, my own most potent moment of discussing fear of the dark that has remained in my brain, happened with their mom 12 years ago. We were driving slowly through a forest in Yosemite at night when she slowed the car to a stop and turned off the headlights. Screams came from some of the other teens in the van with me but she had created a teaching moment and opened the door for discussion. We sat in that van in the pitch blackness of the forest for at least 10 minutes talking about senses and what made something immediately scary just because you couldn't see it. I found myself tailoring that conversation for her little ones that night. They slept in the dark, right? I reminded Spyder about the days before electricity existed and his affirming that fact helped to soothe his sister as well.
By the time the lights came on, their fear had diminished. We had found a headlamp that Cricket insisted on wearing while Spyder played with one of those light up circus toys. They both love kitties and each pretended they were one of my kittens, jumping on my shoulders. When it was time for bed, we all danced and sang to a barnyard song book. Spyder climbed into his top bunk and as I kneeled in front Cricket she spoke those words above to me before I laid her in bed. The potent wisdom of a sleepy 3 year old.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Shamanic Soliloquy
With each inhalation, the colors increased in saturation, expanding into waves that resembled a rainbow ocean around me. The curtains slowly parted and dots of brilliant violet light swiftly dancing around each other in no apparent order swam through darkness as an opening in a forest came into view. This meadowy riverbank was lush, astoundingly vibrant and spiced with scents that only nature is capable of providing. My eyes inhaled every shade of green I've ever seen and some hues I didn't even know existed. Purple and orange and yellow wild flowers speckled the ground and dandelion globes glowed while mountains framed the sky. My first step out of my skin was met with soft earth and warm grass. Walking beside the river, I swung my left foot into it every few yards until I just had to drink it. The clarity of the water was unparalleled to anything I've ever seen or felt or tasted before. My entire being began to crave the feeling that only my feet had experienced. I bathed in the river and made my way through the unkempt overgrowth to a giant Oak and laid on a grassy patch beneath it. Sunbeams peeked through the leaves and the breeze kissed me head to toe whispering secrets only she knows. There were no sounds to alert me, but I felt him coming.
I opened my eyes, sat up and waited. The top of his head came into view in the distance as he too walked along the river. The closer he got, the warmer I grew and as more of his being came into my view, tears began to stream down my face. The corners of my mouth jumped up and I felt my breath quicken. He beamed so brightly, so purely, so perfectly. His beauty absolutely overwhelmed me. Warmth transformed to heat which began to creep steadily, filling me head to toe. I looked down at myself to again find every single piece zipping around dancing excitedly.
He turned and made his way through the path to me and I saw his own dancing violet dots pulsating as his grin met mine. His eyes I don't feel I have the vocabulary to describe in entirety. All I can say is that they are bright and wide and warm and loving and comforting and they are home. I have lived inside them many, many times before this. He took my hand to stand me up, wrapping me inside of him the moment I had fully risen. With each breath and each beat our combined light brightened. This seemed to excite the birds as they sang and danced in the air and branches above us. The breeze returned to join the birds singing her song and the tree gently bowed, gifting his shoulder with a leaf. For hours we danced, we swam, we played and did as we always do. We loved.
He sat against the trunk of the Oak and I climbed onto his lap. Face to face, we spoke and he told me what I already knew."I'm not ready yet." I smiled. "Of course you're not. Nor am I." He smiled and we began to laugh at each other. The sun was setting painting the sky with clementine and pink. He gathered wood from beneath the tree and I gathered water from the river. Digging a shallow circle surrounding the kindling, I left enough space for us to lay down within if we wished and drenched it to keep the fire contained. With a stick in his hand touching the one in mine, we set the fire ablaze. As the sky grew darker, the fire grew warmer and we laid for hours watching the flames. The moon rose and everything seemed to awaken once again. The fire had flooded my eyes with orange and now glancing around they indulged in hues of indigo. We sat up to face each other and as I took in the newly painted surroundings he took my hand and held it open towards him. In my palm he placed a conch shell and smiled. He kissed my lips, my nose, my cheeks, each eye lid and my forehead lingering at every spot for a few seconds. His head then rested upon my chest and he fell asleep, fingers intertwined with mine. I fell into the rhythm of our breaths as I watched the moon continue her journey before surrendering to sleep as well.
I opened my eyes, sat up and waited. The top of his head came into view in the distance as he too walked along the river. The closer he got, the warmer I grew and as more of his being came into my view, tears began to stream down my face. The corners of my mouth jumped up and I felt my breath quicken. He beamed so brightly, so purely, so perfectly. His beauty absolutely overwhelmed me. Warmth transformed to heat which began to creep steadily, filling me head to toe. I looked down at myself to again find every single piece zipping around dancing excitedly.
He turned and made his way through the path to me and I saw his own dancing violet dots pulsating as his grin met mine. His eyes I don't feel I have the vocabulary to describe in entirety. All I can say is that they are bright and wide and warm and loving and comforting and they are home. I have lived inside them many, many times before this. He took my hand to stand me up, wrapping me inside of him the moment I had fully risen. With each breath and each beat our combined light brightened. This seemed to excite the birds as they sang and danced in the air and branches above us. The breeze returned to join the birds singing her song and the tree gently bowed, gifting his shoulder with a leaf. For hours we danced, we swam, we played and did as we always do. We loved.
He sat against the trunk of the Oak and I climbed onto his lap. Face to face, we spoke and he told me what I already knew."I'm not ready yet." I smiled. "Of course you're not. Nor am I." He smiled and we began to laugh at each other. The sun was setting painting the sky with clementine and pink. He gathered wood from beneath the tree and I gathered water from the river. Digging a shallow circle surrounding the kindling, I left enough space for us to lay down within if we wished and drenched it to keep the fire contained. With a stick in his hand touching the one in mine, we set the fire ablaze. As the sky grew darker, the fire grew warmer and we laid for hours watching the flames. The moon rose and everything seemed to awaken once again. The fire had flooded my eyes with orange and now glancing around they indulged in hues of indigo. We sat up to face each other and as I took in the newly painted surroundings he took my hand and held it open towards him. In my palm he placed a conch shell and smiled. He kissed my lips, my nose, my cheeks, each eye lid and my forehead lingering at every spot for a few seconds. His head then rested upon my chest and he fell asleep, fingers intertwined with mine. I fell into the rhythm of our breaths as I watched the moon continue her journey before surrendering to sleep as well.
Tuesday, January 7, 2014
Theta
My dreams were so incredibly vivid last night that 12 hours after waking, I can still smell them. (Insert giant grin here)
After writing about song and dance something didn't sit right with me. It still doesn't but I'll let it bubble until it completely boils. Last night I came across an article on my facebook feed discussing the types of brain waves and how to manipulate your own through use of sound. Of course with sound literally on my mind, I had to read it. They included youtube videos demonstrating those waves that generate a lower frequency thereby either inducing sleep, or dreams or dreamless sleep- whatever state you wish to choose. So I dabbled. I've been dreaming heavily, but only remember snippets upon waking. While I'm certain there's a beginning I don't recall, and an end that was cut short by choice as it was time to wake up, there were 4 very detailed "scenes". I remember the lighting, the feel on my skin, the scent, the taste, emotions, peoples faces, words spoken to me, words I spoke, shapes, colors...e v e r y t h i n g. I have been yearning for this! Needless to say I will of course partake tonight as well.
Sound was also presented to me today by way of a spirit animal and now that I'm writing this, I realize the last time this animal came to visit, all the animals present in my dream last night were there at that time too. Along with the fact that the last time I had a dream as vivid as I had last night, (s)he, showed up right afterwards. Sound and patterns...what is a song but an audible pattern of some sort? Today I was given very clear instructions to sing loudly and boldly.
January 7th
Utilize the veil when you wish to sail.
After writing about song and dance something didn't sit right with me. It still doesn't but I'll let it bubble until it completely boils. Last night I came across an article on my facebook feed discussing the types of brain waves and how to manipulate your own through use of sound. Of course with sound literally on my mind, I had to read it. They included youtube videos demonstrating those waves that generate a lower frequency thereby either inducing sleep, or dreams or dreamless sleep- whatever state you wish to choose. So I dabbled. I've been dreaming heavily, but only remember snippets upon waking. While I'm certain there's a beginning I don't recall, and an end that was cut short by choice as it was time to wake up, there were 4 very detailed "scenes". I remember the lighting, the feel on my skin, the scent, the taste, emotions, peoples faces, words spoken to me, words I spoke, shapes, colors...e v e r y t h i n g. I have been yearning for this! Needless to say I will of course partake tonight as well.
Sound was also presented to me today by way of a spirit animal and now that I'm writing this, I realize the last time this animal came to visit, all the animals present in my dream last night were there at that time too. Along with the fact that the last time I had a dream as vivid as I had last night, (s)he, showed up right afterwards. Sound and patterns...what is a song but an audible pattern of some sort? Today I was given very clear instructions to sing loudly and boldly.
January 7th
Utilize the veil when you wish to sail.
Monday, January 6, 2014
Song & Dance
A bird doesn't sing because it has an answer, it sings because it has a song.
The more I move, the dancer within just seems to channel herself. I found myself stretching up onto my toes and twisting and twirling as I worked the other night. I found myself possibly too delighted in disturbing the early morning silence as my boots rhythmically clicked away at the pavement while walking to the train for a shoot. In the kitchen cooking, I found myself tap dancing a routine I learned in 1996 and performing pirouettes in triplicate as I waited for the water to boil. Dance has been in my blood since birth.
Though there are moments in time where I exist as a chatterbox, flexing my vocal chords is still something I struggle with. How does a being who is fluid in movement learn to utilize that same capacity for fluidity into sound? How does a dancer learn to sing? I played the flute for a time. I still may be able to read music if I tried. I played bells and I sang in choir when I was younger; our group of 5 even won an all city competition. I have always had an ear for sound. I can match a note I hear on a keyboard with ease but when it comes to producing my own sound I often struggle.
Yesterday I remembered being knocked in the throat while playing football and though it rendered my throat somewhat damaged momentarily, my movement was what mattered. I was swift and caught the ball. Movement, at first glance seemed to supersede sound in importance. Whales came to mind earlier yesterday before the football memory and they very much sing and vocalize. Yet their voice is also a means for echolocation, much like the bats I saw feeding later in the day. Their sound is what guides their movements. As a dancer, is my dance actually my song? Perhaps as my voice has become so silent externally, it's become mostly internal and there isn't really a need to learn to "sing" at all...
January 6th
I was a dancer all along
The more I move, the dancer within just seems to channel herself. I found myself stretching up onto my toes and twisting and twirling as I worked the other night. I found myself possibly too delighted in disturbing the early morning silence as my boots rhythmically clicked away at the pavement while walking to the train for a shoot. In the kitchen cooking, I found myself tap dancing a routine I learned in 1996 and performing pirouettes in triplicate as I waited for the water to boil. Dance has been in my blood since birth.
Though there are moments in time where I exist as a chatterbox, flexing my vocal chords is still something I struggle with. How does a being who is fluid in movement learn to utilize that same capacity for fluidity into sound? How does a dancer learn to sing? I played the flute for a time. I still may be able to read music if I tried. I played bells and I sang in choir when I was younger; our group of 5 even won an all city competition. I have always had an ear for sound. I can match a note I hear on a keyboard with ease but when it comes to producing my own sound I often struggle.
Yesterday I remembered being knocked in the throat while playing football and though it rendered my throat somewhat damaged momentarily, my movement was what mattered. I was swift and caught the ball. Movement, at first glance seemed to supersede sound in importance. Whales came to mind earlier yesterday before the football memory and they very much sing and vocalize. Yet their voice is also a means for echolocation, much like the bats I saw feeding later in the day. Their sound is what guides their movements. As a dancer, is my dance actually my song? Perhaps as my voice has become so silent externally, it's become mostly internal and there isn't really a need to learn to "sing" at all...
January 6th
I was a dancer all along
Sunday, January 5, 2014
Interception
Lazy day. Thoughts of movement and sound. Watching football and reminiscing. It used to be my favorite game to play. I still remember getting knocked in the throat by the point of the ball as I intercepted it while playing at my first job as a sports camp counselor. The wind was temporarily knocked out of me, but I had succeeded in fucking their game up. In middle school I loved nothing more than playing with the boys after school and dragging them into the mud. Meanwhile they were all too scared of hurting "the girl" to tackle me. Movement and sound...I watched bats feeding at dusk today.
January 5th
I can't wait to have a bed to make and lie in.
January 5th
I can't wait to have a bed to make and lie in.
Saturday, January 4, 2014
Windcrafters unite
"I have this really weird connection to the wind."
My heart jumped.
"What's your spirit animal?",she asked after sharing her wind stories. As I shared my understanding of the difference between totems and guides, a raccoon appeared outside the car and we both laughed.
Last night was freezing by SF standards yet I felt so warm. I've had several "best" friends over the course of my life and it's never been an adjective I've used loosely. Much like spirit animals, some friends are temporary guides and others, the "best" ones, seem to be with you for life. They're like the pieces of yourself you love the most and everything you admire in a person that you don't necessarily embody but want to all rolled into one.
As I sat across from the woman whom I had been tied to at the hip from 13 to 17, everything had changed and yet nothing had changed. We hadn't really spoken in a few years and have probably seen each other no more than 20 times since we graduated high school many moons ago. Yet there was no getting to know each other again, no need to redevelop any bond, just a pure flow of her to me and me to her. We only spent a few hours together but that time had a sacred quality to it leaving me feeling refreshed. It was a nice reminder that I still have non-blood family here too. And as I mentally scroll through the various friendships I've had over the years that are no longer, I realized this one has lasted for 20 years and that makes me unbelievably happy.
January 4th 1pm
And then I realized it was her. She was in the wind.
My heart jumped.
"What's your spirit animal?",she asked after sharing her wind stories. As I shared my understanding of the difference between totems and guides, a raccoon appeared outside the car and we both laughed.
Last night was freezing by SF standards yet I felt so warm. I've had several "best" friends over the course of my life and it's never been an adjective I've used loosely. Much like spirit animals, some friends are temporary guides and others, the "best" ones, seem to be with you for life. They're like the pieces of yourself you love the most and everything you admire in a person that you don't necessarily embody but want to all rolled into one.
As I sat across from the woman whom I had been tied to at the hip from 13 to 17, everything had changed and yet nothing had changed. We hadn't really spoken in a few years and have probably seen each other no more than 20 times since we graduated high school many moons ago. Yet there was no getting to know each other again, no need to redevelop any bond, just a pure flow of her to me and me to her. We only spent a few hours together but that time had a sacred quality to it leaving me feeling refreshed. It was a nice reminder that I still have non-blood family here too. And as I mentally scroll through the various friendships I've had over the years that are no longer, I realized this one has lasted for 20 years and that makes me unbelievably happy.
January 4th 1pm
And then I realized it was her. She was in the wind.
Friday, January 3, 2014
Expression of Self
It was just about 2 years ago that I sat in front of the camera and froze, nearly paralyzed. The room was silent after several minutes of fussing around about lighting and the silence along with the feeling of 3 pairs of eyes focused on me ignited a bit of a panic attack. Of course my reactions are generally held within so I sat, still, glancing over at the only pair of eyes I found comfort in. The silence felt heavier as the moments passed and I just couldn't give what they all wanted. The idea behind all of this was an attempt to help me restart my youtube channel and the video clip was being shot professionally. When I recorded I was always alone. I set the camera how I wanted. I lit myself and the room how I wanted. If I fucked up in speech, I'd start over without the pressure of other people standing around waiting. It was something that was mine wholly and had a homegrown feel whereas this felt like a huge production and just felt wrong.
Growing up my mom used to joke that if I ever went missing she'd have no shortage of photos to show the police. This was before the digital age, when film reigned. As the internet was born to us common folks and community sites popped up left and right, my own digital imagery was born as well through fuzzy webcams and eventually my first digital camera. Somehow I stumbled upon Photoshop and spent hours playing creating designs, layouts, ads, flyers etc for myself and friends. Long before "selfie" was ever a word, I had no issues with photographing myself and using that image as somewhat of an art piece. I loved doing it. Where my mom, who hates to have herself photographed and will fight it at any cost throwing her hands across her face, views it as narcissism, I always used to view it as a celebration of oneself and the various ways that self can be manipulated. In fact, "selfies" were my therapy and artistic expression after chemo. Selfies were how I first learned to hone any kind of skill set with makeup and lighting.
In conversation with a friend a few weeks ago about blogging, she showed me her site, explained how her stats had slowly grown and asked me for my opinion and any advice. I told her that she was missing. She shares what she likes and other peoples creations giving people a sense of her style, but she is nowhere to be found in her blog. As I ran that end of year statigram thing for Instagram last week, I was shocked that all my "top 5" photos were of myself. Back in the days of Migente, Collegeclub, MySpace, Livejournal and even Youtube, I had no qualms about posting photos of myself yet in recent years for whatever reason I became extremely uncomfortable with who I was and only shared myself through photos on rare occasions - which though the viewer may have not known, were emotionally driven for me and I cherished for one reason or another. Though I won't begin youtube again until I have the means to produce to my standards, I must again become comfortable with myself and my presence. Which has been slowly happening in ways I never explored before thanks to a very trusted soul.
On my birthday I vowed to myself I would write every day. I haven't posted every day, but I've written. In light of rediscovering myself and regaining comfortability with my image and presence, I'm going to post a photo every day because I'm remembering that there's nothing wrong with celebrating oneself so why the hell not? Here are the last 3 days:
January 1st 4am
exhausted
January 2nd 1pm
Those days where I paint the sky as I please
January 3rd
There's certain ways the light always plays whenever you're in my world.
Growing up my mom used to joke that if I ever went missing she'd have no shortage of photos to show the police. This was before the digital age, when film reigned. As the internet was born to us common folks and community sites popped up left and right, my own digital imagery was born as well through fuzzy webcams and eventually my first digital camera. Somehow I stumbled upon Photoshop and spent hours playing creating designs, layouts, ads, flyers etc for myself and friends. Long before "selfie" was ever a word, I had no issues with photographing myself and using that image as somewhat of an art piece. I loved doing it. Where my mom, who hates to have herself photographed and will fight it at any cost throwing her hands across her face, views it as narcissism, I always used to view it as a celebration of oneself and the various ways that self can be manipulated. In fact, "selfies" were my therapy and artistic expression after chemo. Selfies were how I first learned to hone any kind of skill set with makeup and lighting.
In conversation with a friend a few weeks ago about blogging, she showed me her site, explained how her stats had slowly grown and asked me for my opinion and any advice. I told her that she was missing. She shares what she likes and other peoples creations giving people a sense of her style, but she is nowhere to be found in her blog. As I ran that end of year statigram thing for Instagram last week, I was shocked that all my "top 5" photos were of myself. Back in the days of Migente, Collegeclub, MySpace, Livejournal and even Youtube, I had no qualms about posting photos of myself yet in recent years for whatever reason I became extremely uncomfortable with who I was and only shared myself through photos on rare occasions - which though the viewer may have not known, were emotionally driven for me and I cherished for one reason or another. Though I won't begin youtube again until I have the means to produce to my standards, I must again become comfortable with myself and my presence. Which has been slowly happening in ways I never explored before thanks to a very trusted soul.
On my birthday I vowed to myself I would write every day. I haven't posted every day, but I've written. In light of rediscovering myself and regaining comfortability with my image and presence, I'm going to post a photo every day because I'm remembering that there's nothing wrong with celebrating oneself so why the hell not? Here are the last 3 days:
January 1st 4am
exhausted
January 2nd 1pm
Those days where I paint the sky as I please
January 3rd
There's certain ways the light always plays whenever you're in my world.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
Midnight musings
I weaved my way through the flailing sea of bodies splashed with light and color, shrouded in sound and sweat, dripping with sexuality. Amidst the chaos, I mused to myself how well I moved despite how much time had passed. Though I was out of shape, in some way I am now even more precise with my movements than I was before. Surveying the crowd before me, this entire scene was my definition of an absolute nightmare while in New York and I was proud to be navigating it as well as I did.
I don't know how or why I came to feel as I did living out east but much like an addict who couldn't leave home without drugs, it came to be that I rarely left home without protection. Whether that protection was a hood for my head, headphones for my ears, herbs or any combination of crystals worn in my bra or carried in my pocket, I nearly alway had a defense mechanism on me. I always trust my instincts so I know these things were necessary to balance out the energy fields around me at the time so it amused me that last night enveloped in a sea of utter revelry and chaos, I didn't feel I needed any of them.
This isn't to say I've reverted back to allowing everything into my bubble though. I suppose my bubble just feels stronger organically as it is without the need for added assistance. It's an odd paradox as my body feels more tired - unaccustomed to this environment, yet my mind and spirit are strong enough to handle it.
Sunday a guy stopped me while I was working inquiring about my sexuality and "situation". Over the course of the next few hours he stopped me every opportunity he could in an attempt to gain more insight into what I was about and to sell himself to me. "How are you satisfied sexually?" While this question would have offended me in a major way in the past, I simply retorted that it was a loaded question and not appropriate to be asking. "But this environment is a sexually charged one." Looking around, I realized that what he said was true and that statement woke me up a bit. After spending years of my life laboring away at the club, it was an aspect I suppose I had forgotten as my purpose there 9 times out of 10 was simply to make money.
His statement and questions returned to my brain as I walked around working last night after having several women make the same inquiry. And then her words echoed in my head.
"I never realized how unfulfilling it is to be with someone lacking depth."
What did it feel like exactly? Explain.
"It felt like part of me was missing. I tried to share all of myself but she just didn't get it. She couldn't. She wasn't capable, so I just stopped talking. It was unbelievably frustrating once I came to the realization. I'm so happy you're back."
Her feeling is one I haven't known for years but I remember the frustration. I remember in some way feeling bad and almost...pity? That pity kept me beside the individual in some way for years. But once I finally let that relationship go, I was more aware of the quality of connection I desired and never settled for less.
As I worked last night, the last moments of the year brought to light how much I've changed. Walking through memories in a space that held so many, I was reminded of what I want, what I need and proud that I haven't settled. Where some seek to explore and live "freely" sexually, indulging in whatever or whomever their senses are delighted by in the moment, I'm now at a point where my bubble is strong and purposeful. I have spent years purging my spirit and don't want to create astral attachments based in momentary carnal attraction. I used to scoff at religion and the idea of waiting to have sex until marriage. I still scoff at religion and don't believe in waiting until marriage but over the past few years I've realized and directly felt the sacred quality that exists when you share sexual energy with a person. As a woman, to allow a person to physically enter me means that I am also allowing their spirit, their soul, their beliefs, their desires, their fears, their emotions, their feelings, their needs to exist within me. We essentially become tied to one another in the astral realm for a time. Through the act of sex, I make space for them to exist within me. As a selfish person, that's kind of a big deal in my world as I don't have time nor energy to deal with most people's shit. I will not risk attaching myself to anyone lacking depth for momentary pleasure.
Reflecting upon my growth, I realized I'm finally gaining ground again. I feel confident and comfortable and strong in my decisions and my existence. Part of me died last year and it feels like she's finally been laid to rest. I think I'll grow quite fond of her replacement.
I don't know how or why I came to feel as I did living out east but much like an addict who couldn't leave home without drugs, it came to be that I rarely left home without protection. Whether that protection was a hood for my head, headphones for my ears, herbs or any combination of crystals worn in my bra or carried in my pocket, I nearly alway had a defense mechanism on me. I always trust my instincts so I know these things were necessary to balance out the energy fields around me at the time so it amused me that last night enveloped in a sea of utter revelry and chaos, I didn't feel I needed any of them.
This isn't to say I've reverted back to allowing everything into my bubble though. I suppose my bubble just feels stronger organically as it is without the need for added assistance. It's an odd paradox as my body feels more tired - unaccustomed to this environment, yet my mind and spirit are strong enough to handle it.
Sunday a guy stopped me while I was working inquiring about my sexuality and "situation". Over the course of the next few hours he stopped me every opportunity he could in an attempt to gain more insight into what I was about and to sell himself to me. "How are you satisfied sexually?" While this question would have offended me in a major way in the past, I simply retorted that it was a loaded question and not appropriate to be asking. "But this environment is a sexually charged one." Looking around, I realized that what he said was true and that statement woke me up a bit. After spending years of my life laboring away at the club, it was an aspect I suppose I had forgotten as my purpose there 9 times out of 10 was simply to make money.
His statement and questions returned to my brain as I walked around working last night after having several women make the same inquiry. And then her words echoed in my head.
"I never realized how unfulfilling it is to be with someone lacking depth."
What did it feel like exactly? Explain.
"It felt like part of me was missing. I tried to share all of myself but she just didn't get it. She couldn't. She wasn't capable, so I just stopped talking. It was unbelievably frustrating once I came to the realization. I'm so happy you're back."
Her feeling is one I haven't known for years but I remember the frustration. I remember in some way feeling bad and almost...pity? That pity kept me beside the individual in some way for years. But once I finally let that relationship go, I was more aware of the quality of connection I desired and never settled for less.
As I worked last night, the last moments of the year brought to light how much I've changed. Walking through memories in a space that held so many, I was reminded of what I want, what I need and proud that I haven't settled. Where some seek to explore and live "freely" sexually, indulging in whatever or whomever their senses are delighted by in the moment, I'm now at a point where my bubble is strong and purposeful. I have spent years purging my spirit and don't want to create astral attachments based in momentary carnal attraction. I used to scoff at religion and the idea of waiting to have sex until marriage. I still scoff at religion and don't believe in waiting until marriage but over the past few years I've realized and directly felt the sacred quality that exists when you share sexual energy with a person. As a woman, to allow a person to physically enter me means that I am also allowing their spirit, their soul, their beliefs, their desires, their fears, their emotions, their feelings, their needs to exist within me. We essentially become tied to one another in the astral realm for a time. Through the act of sex, I make space for them to exist within me. As a selfish person, that's kind of a big deal in my world as I don't have time nor energy to deal with most people's shit. I will not risk attaching myself to anyone lacking depth for momentary pleasure.
Reflecting upon my growth, I realized I'm finally gaining ground again. I feel confident and comfortable and strong in my decisions and my existence. Part of me died last year and it feels like she's finally been laid to rest. I think I'll grow quite fond of her replacement.
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