impermanence.

everything seems so impermanent.

even this body is slowly dying...

we all are...

we're all terminal.

i am not contracting - but i'm not expanding either

i need to discover a new culture - explore another part of the world.

the smoke of my soul is wafting out from me and away to a land i've never seen before.

it's mixing with smells i've yet to know and dancing with people who laugh and sing in a language unfamiliar to my ears...

my heart is aching, heaving, yelling across the earth... i want to be taken away. forever.

to dance upon the ruins i've seen in my dreams for all my life...

to look out across the sea towards an island i drew as a child...

to hold a child in my arms that i've never met and can only communicate with through the love melting from my eyes.

i am aching.

these reigns that hold me back are but my own. woven together with threads of my own fear.

but i feel the moment coming... creeping... dawning... when i will throw these ropes to the ground and soar away into the sun.

and my death will slow down... and my spirit light will expand... and i will know the love of my OWN heart.

and i will be free.

and this impermanence will at least have a purpose for a moment or two.

on a good day

Life is so good.

I remember about 8 months ago thinking this very thought.
I was driving.
And I can see the very intersection I was at.
I can feel what the sunlight felt like as it kissed my shoulders
And I can taste the sweetness of my life in that moment.
It was seamless
Easy
Smooth
Effortless
And beautiful
Every element of my existence had fallen into place in a perfect pattern. Each puzzle piece fitting exactly where it was supposed to...
And it was... At least on that day.

And I think I knew in that moment of bliss that it would never stay the same.
That it would never just maintain this harmonious chord.
The echo would die out and a new chord was to be struck.

And the new chord was dissonant and jarring and threw my very life as I knew it into a spiraling tornado

And then I found myself lying in the dust with arms outstretched
And I let raindrops kiss my lips
As swirling white spirit danced above me...
A drum beat pulsated through my blood stream

And my soul rattled.
Shaking free the parts of me which had died but remained within my shell

I died
And was reborn
I was the phoenix.

Tears rolled down my cheeks and turned the angelic dust to dark salty mud where they fell

This physical illustration of the same transformation within us when we cry and feel sadness.

Moving from the light and ethereal to the thick and dark

And all that I knew and felt on that blissful sunny drive through venice was no longer.

And somehow, perhaps for the first time ever, I felt liberation from the loss.

I feel a depth to my lungs and a freedom through my heart

And I know that the collapse and the destruction of the smooth platform that held me has only created a blank playa-esque canvas for me to build a new self.

And every moment of this creation and re-construction of myself is beautiful.

And life is so good.

... ... ...

...flirting with insanity
... ... leading to catastrophe
... ... ... opening the door
... ... ... ... and finding just ten thousand more.

silent screams

...my tears were crimson red
i tried to bleed you out of me
...i tried to breathe myself away from the moment we just had and said we'd never have

...in my mind I clawed at your face
and ripped the hair from my scalp
...but in reality, I just sat in the numbness
palms open to the partially hidden sun...

and my shallow stuttering breath shook my lips
...and I used all the strength I didn't have for my knees not to buckle

intentions for the aries new moon

I am releasing this garbage by letting go...
And stepping back...
And taking a breath...
And re-booting...
I am taking two steps back to see the broader, bigger picture...
The sweeping playa landscape of life...
And allowing my truth (trut) to be revealed without expectation...
Or judgement...
And I'm listening to my heart...
And not planning for peace or ease or a peaceful effortless flowing life to be handed to me...
But rather finding peace in the mayhem...
Allowing my soul to be at ease with the turbulence...
And dancing with the earthquake...
Flowing with the movement of my life.
There is a song.
Its not the sweet, melodic, mellow song I wish it was, but I can't change the tempo...
I can't do a slow tango to hard core rock n roll...
So I must find the rhythm of my erratic heartbeat and love the song it sings...
And move my feet in time to what is happening....
And find peace of mind within myself...
Though it might not be peaceful around me...
Om Mani Padme Hum
(The jewel in the center of the lotus)
This lotus that grows from under the surface- in the shit- in the mud- in this chaos...
And flowers, delicately floating above the surface...
But even above ground, the outside conditions and circumstances can be brutal and harsh...
And the petals can wilt or be torn off in the storm...
But the jewel in the eye of the flower remains unmoving...
And sparkles through the haze.

Catharsis

The rain poured down... and so did my tears
The clouds came open and the air was cleaned.
And I kept hearing his song about finding his country- finding his home
And I couldn't lift my head from the dampened pillow I slept on in my catatonic state.
I spun out...
Emotionally and physically.
The wild one from days past emerged while my mind was elsewhere reflecting on the weight upon my shoulders
And then the rains came
And I couldn't stop fixating on air
That knowing voice inside of me would not stop prophecizing and urging me to push
And then I tried to leave and make her stop
And the vehicle I tried to use to run away wouldn't take me where I wanted to go
And it too spun out in the soaked side streets
And so I had to turn to the thing that numbs me
And mutes me
But when I woke up the clouds had parted in the sky and catharsis was around me.
But not yet within me
And I know its because I muted her voice
She wasn't done talking
The storm had been plugged
And still my own raindrops needed to fall
And so I fell.
I collapsed in my closet and felt to the depths of the storm...
And my heart is now saturated like the streets of last night
And I am waiting for the light to come and my own cleansed soul to shine through these clouds that shroud my spirit

blackwhiteblackwhiteblackwhite

my fiery heart seeks the eye of the needle in the haystack...
the eye that is
the portal to transform me
...from darkness in to light.

the yin yang symbol stamped upon my forehead...

i fear the black hole because it is the oldest friend i have.
i keep close this enemy,
this entity that stabs my skin...
cuts my flesh...
eats my light...
and watches me bleed.

it stands beyond my bedroom door cradling a knife in its hands...
... salivating at my fragility.

but the choice is mine.

i choose to expand.

only in a contracted state of fear can the darkness
enter
me

...so I stare at the sun til my eyes burn and water...
until
i am blind
and dots twinkle in my sight...

i reach my arms to the north and south
and stand at the edge of the ocean...
my open heart calling to the setting sun
to infuse me one last time before it rests.

...and i dream myself into grace

i create peace
...and harmonize with the wind
...and let my cheekbones soften.

i don't press up against my skin,
but soften inward towards the warm bassinet shrouded with silken sheets
where I rest
and am held
within my own soft honey colored light...

and the darkness is just a shadow of a palm tree out the window,
dancing on the pavement...
...waiting...
for the sun to go down...
for its chance to run across the earth and consume everything in its path.
to take us back to yang.

my reflection in a tidepool of days gone

SHE skipped through sprinklers and chewed on the ends of wild lemongrass...
SHE ran her fingers in the chilly sea water of the Carmel beach tide-pools and tickled the bellies of sea anemones to watch them wiggle away...
SHE drew on driftwood with pieces of charcoal left from big kid bonfires and scooped sand in her hand to watch it sift back down into the white speckled mountain SHE was inadvertently creating. ..
SHE dreamed of floating constantly and believed she was from another world all together...
SHE loved the scent of fresh cut grass and the taste of her grandfather's stew...
SHE would pirouette at low tide through the dampened sand as she hummed a soundtrack only SHE would ever hear but knew would change the world...
SHE stood on tippy toes in her purple jelly shoes to reach the almonds on her neighbor's tree...
And then SHE would run to the eucalyptus meadow to crouch among the lizards that were her friends and share her treat...
SHE would shudder with excitement when SHE opened the dress-up trunk, anticipating the creativity that would soon abound... and the story lines to her musicals would begin to bubble inside her...
SHE cupped her hands around roses and smelled them until they lost their smell and mournfully scooped up the dead and dying flowers that had fallen to the earth in her hands, taking them home to make perfume that SHE could wear to thank the flowers for their life...
SHE would climb on a roof any chance she got just to get the birdseye view and feel above it all for a moment in time...
And then one day SHE grew up...
Too fast.
And too hard.
And slowly turning a corner her bloodshot eyes fell upon an image of herself skipping through sprinklers and chewing on the ends of lemongrass...
And SHE knew SHE was gone.

oak tree ponderings

Have you ever wondered why oak trees grow the way they do?

The gnarled branches, perhaps, tell a story of the tree's life...

Each bend and curve- a moment in the past that moved them or scared them...
And only when the tree has grown out past that time, can we see the life map illustrated up the growth...
A reflection of the path worn on the face of the aging plant?

Maybe there is muscle memory in their bark and feelings flow through the sap, just as our emotions ride the tides of our veins...

And maybe sometimes it just becomes too much for the tree and its sap has to bleed...
The feelings must run out and escape from the pain it holds.
Is the sap their tears?

What would my tree look like?

Would my branches have grown up to the sky, reaching like hands feeling towards the divine during my times of expansive bliss I felt in the desert?

Would there be a knot every foot or so... To show the knot I felt in my core each time I spiraled into panic and anxiety and darkness?
Would my contracted fear be drawn as disease eating away the life of the tree in little holes and decay?

And what would this moment in time look like once it climbed up and was shown in a branch?

Would it be broken?

Would it bear any leaves at all?

Or would this moment in my life be sculpted in the gnarled oak tree as the base of many branches that are yet to grow?

But I suppose we can't ever see the present moment in a tree...

We must wait until it has grown past it and moved along in life to see the story unfolded... to recognize the bigger picture painted in the bark...

Goodbye.

You left.
The taste of your lips still lingering on mine...
The image of your swollen eyes burned in to my heart...

But the air is clear.
And its terrifying.

I've never breathed so deep before...
My lungs don't know how to take in so much.
My eyes don't know how to see this wide.
And I'm sadly, strangely, okay.

Your music will always be the soundtrack to my soul...
And your hands will always smooth my furrowed brow when I'm afraid.

The sun will always shine down upon us both, no matter how far we walk from one another...

We didn't run.
We slowly turned and glided apart and it was a slow burn...
But the last piece has died and fallen.

And now we can be at peace...
and hold a piece of each other as we walk alone.

I hold a single candle in my palm for you.

And always will.

Goodbye.

anahata orchids

there is ash upon my forehead.

here i sit within a cave inside my chest and i stare at the moon...

the walls of my heart, adorned with hanging crystals, glow white and shoot iridescent beams of light across my body.

and i am held here

purple orchids scatter the earth, growing in unorganized clumps...

I find myself leaning over a pool of still water to look back at myself in the reflection
...and I see you

I see my fears melt off my face as tears of truth
And feel your hands upon the back of my head, caressing me the way the sun did when it peeked in through my window this morning...
and you were standing there watching me bathed in early morning sunlight as i slept.

i close my eyes again and trace a line through the sand in my memory to see how
life
flew
ahead
of me
when i was still standing in the desert dust trying to see ...
...wiping my eyes clear

and once they could finally blink open, i saw that your sun had set and I was alone again...
standing upon the other end of the penninsula.

you kissed my heart and held my body in your arms...
we watched the waves crash under the whispers of clouds that hung in the morning light
... and you told me it was true.

and we've both known all along that our love was for another world.

but then why is it even breathing life right now?

why have you come into this cave?

why have you entered my heart and walked upon these purple orchids?

why can I feel you in my chest even when you are gone?

comfort junkie

im learning how to be okay.
im discovering how lonely independence is...
and seeing how deceiving lonliness can be.

i am a comfort junkie...

the ache... the longing and lonliness tricks me into thinking that i want to be with him...
but really its just that junkie inside of me seeking out something that i know will soothe me.

so i need to learn to be okay.
i need to learn to comfort myself and be my own companion...
i need to be my own fix.

because he is not the right partner for me.
the way he chooses to live his life does not parallel well with mine,
but he does fill a void
and comforts me

and then i choke and i start to sprial into fear and that voice starts screaming that i made the wrong choice...
but that is the voice of the junkie...
that is the woman on the other side of the wall with her muffled screams
that is my shadow...

the dark, letcherous, grasping, gripping side that wants to suck in and be satiated.
be appeased...
a hand to stroke my hair
a voice to re-tell the words that i already said
that i already know.

and so i must exhale out..
i must hold myself and surround my soul in light

and remember that i made a choice to expand...

i made a choice to walk alone and let the reigns fall to the earth.
no more sacrefices, no more burdens but my own.

and i am the tortoise... i can carry my own life on my back.

but sometimes i need to crawl inside and be alone and comfort myself from within the shell that surrounds me.

maybe some day i will find someone that counterparts me better then he did.
but i will never find anyone who can carry me better then i can.

to be free alone.
to be held by my own heart
to be home at last with me.