A superpower i would really really love to have, would be to know exactly how many and which lifetimes i have crossed with the people i connect with at present. Deep through the windows of what is called the eye, are the akashic films, vivid and available to those who dive into extended gaze. The search for the beloved endures everywhere (or at least in 'my' everywhere) and people are evolving at a miraculous rate.

I return to Miami Beach surprised to discover it jaded and unimpressed, with many of its inhabitants having what Rumi calls the 'disease of the eye.' A condition where one's eyes make zero contact, for who knows what is behind it? Impressions and informations by the zillions now inhabit our subconscious, everything from TV ads to Sunday School Prayers. This could be one of the possible reasons i cannot remember High School, even after several attempts to jar it by an old accomplice that sat next to me in History. Useless memories permanently pushed out, recycled, now being used as a porn clip or to recall the taste of caramelized pears with brie.

Repeated mind-framed fear causes complete shutdown. Avoiding a look, a chance to experience divinity goes missed. Turn away from this divinity over and over again for a long enough period of time, well the results are definitely IN. AND it is annoying a whole lot of others who at the same time, are practicing the opposite and functioning on a completely different level. One group will ask Who Will Win? Others will ask How Can I Serve? Many others will simply ask Why?

We are feeling the sting of our karmic debts and deeds kicking us in our collective ass. Yes, on some level it will always be fucked up, perhaps now because of all of us, one day the world will be more cool, and i do not mean temperature. A place where people can look each other in the eye, the soul's window. The question is Why Are People Avoiding Activation?  

I have not come to any conclusions, there are no theories, and some things have been proven for us to which to anchor ourselves upon, but the rest -- is made up. Mythical mistaken for Truth or Law. A new Sutra is being written, prose with respect to circular (time) and living karmically responsible. What in word, deed and action is aligned with the highest intention in the style of a true divine beloved. I would propose that eye gazing will change the planet, and cookies. Yes, some of the cookies will be vegan.

I run into Psalm flying from her apartment, she pauses to hug while bouncing like a jogger at a red light. She has a look of ecstatic overwhelm on her face. Her dream is blowing up in a good way and she is like ~ shit, it's really happening! She laughs 'I created this!' and i reply 'And it's getting bigger and bigger!!' Receiving bounty while knowing you are consciously tapping into abundant worth is high muse-infused life living art.

Later, i arrived at Occupy LA to the voice of my friend Priya, a human rights lawyer of Indian descent with a fierce musical talent she is hell bent to share. She is seated on the North steps of LA's City Hall, functioning as a stage for performers and various speakers. The surrounding grassy area is covered with tents and hand-made signs, the cacophony of energies mixing here stinks formidable.  Some spending extended time there note that the occupation was not supposed to 'look' like this, homeless + heroes together in supposed solidarity. I love being here because every time i come ~ i feel my life like a pancake being flipped.

I skip up stairs to see Priya unraveling from behind the microphone. People below are jeering and booing 'NEXT!! GET OFF THE STAGE!!! Who knew it would turn out to be Indian ragas that would set off the mentally unstable guy holding the twisted staff pole high in the air? I look at her, placing my hands on her shoulders 'Priya, thank you for holding the Drishti, because even though these people are occupying, they still need a good shaking, so go ahead! Irritate them! And happy birthday!' She breathes in deeply, nodding with that chin thing she does, black curls dancing around her smiling courageous face and tones into the microphone.

Local Yogis drop in to activate the space with spiritual vibes. Today's teacher is Kishan Shah, he is setting up mat spaces and smudging the area with sage. Many occupiers have joined us under the shadeless burning sun, hands sting in every contact with the mat, Asana practice sweating in full-tilt Tapas. Kishan leads us into a flowing warrior sequence while down below a large group is gathering, voices of heated deliberation expand while seated in warrior 2 we send out love and tolerance. The derelict yelling dude now has a bullhorn, he is shouting into it 'ENOUGH WITH THE MEDITATION!! LET'S GET BACK TO THE REVOLUTION!!' From their mats yogis are yelling 'THIS IS THE REVOLUTION!!' In ardha chandrasa Kishan says 'the sum of all parts working as one' he realizes what he said and repeats 'the SUM of ALL parts working as ONE!'

A guy runs frantically through the class, he is beside himself. 'PLEASE' he shouts 'The chemtrails are in the clouds! They are going to kill you! Pleeeeeease protect yourself, put on some sunscreeeeeeeen!' i didn't have the heart to tell him sunscreen also has a shit-ton of chemicals, and we were going to die anyway. He was crying in his pleading as he was being escorted down the stairs. While chaos ensues, i am experiencing a vitality and ease like never before since my yoga practice began back in '94. I weigh nothing and yet entirely rooted to this asphalt base.

Seated in thunderbolt zazen we hesitatingly prepare for meditation. Kishan is sitting across from me, eyes wild in heightened state of NOW - like ' fuck i don't know what is going to happen next.' Harnessing fearless courage in his inhale, he instructs the class 'Close your eyes. I will be your eyes for you. I got your back.' Bandhas secure like a vault door closing, while opening space for prana to surge, swim, fly, parkour and slackline in my body. The spiritual and the material molding, overlapping, weaving continuously as a nirvanic pulse, i achieve samadhi in the most concrete of jungles.

The shadows were facing each other in this dynamic potent moment. Yogis pushing away the hard-to-look at, others wishing the spiritual mystics would disappear, both denying rights to each others existence. The shadow has a bullhorn and it's yelling ENOUGH.

Kali, the goddess of destruction (or deconstruction) from far away appears as black and scary, but up close it is discovered she is actually All the colors. YES it's bigger than You, it was created by You. You are creating space for play, for experiment, for love and acceptance. You have been working and training hard, why be surprised when it shows up to greet You? There is in our collective history of killing the messenger, and those of us who are being called to teach are feeling that patrimonial overwhelm, and we hold the ability and fortitude to kill the paradigm instead. Let's have each others' backs - because the only way out is indeed through - maintain the Drishti.

It may be the four planets in Scorpio or that the end of the world is tomorrow (again) but i can report feeling like i am being pressed through a cosmic sieve, taking it's whole Kali Yuga with it. I have faith in balance, negotiating with my physical body during this karmic swoosh with the force of galaxy's edge or eye - who knows? who remembers? A collective recall to when we were gods with the ability to resonate and go beyond material boundary...I remember making the pyramids, do you? It is more than us and it is us.

Imagine yourself the tiniest particle, a nucleus, a quark, an orb ~ whatever ~ super teeny weeny and you will feel yourself flying through space. You are a superhero! Or you are being presented the option to be one at present, and if you are not doing what you love you are missing out and accepting less, you have forgotten...most likely it is both, duality is such a fucking drag sometimes. It is there to help us SEE and as it is said in yoga practice, injuries most often happen during the transitions. It's not just pose-pose-pose, the stuff in between is the journey, the playground for dedicated luminaries, it's the gooey inside.

At Bhaktifest i attended a workshop called Mother Medicine. Now my friend and teacher Psalm Isadora, is releasing a CD of goddess kirtan songs called Mother Medicine. I wish to share the notes in a poem style because that is the way i notetake. I debated to whether to post this here and now because it deviates from what i think my blog to BE, reflect, or be seen as...but then i remembered it's my fucking blog, it's the end of the world and fuck it. Enjoy the medicine.

Throwback to primal history
Overlooked Goddesses 
Who do you think birthed these Gods? 

Searching for answers in cycles
Ruled in harmony with the intuitive nature
Return to the original Mother Wisdom

Ritual to remember and learn
Same moon but different faces 
Markings
Initiations 
Harmony with the natural selves

Ancestral suffering
Abuse 
Separation into oneness 
Birth UNcomfortable 
it is hard work
PUSH 
There is no option 
It is coming! 

What can I heal?
Dedicate
Integrate
Liberate
No escape
Take the truth real and raw
Call into action
You are being called into action

Fear means facing something unknown
Fear is your ally
False Evidence Appearing as Real 
We beg for the Goddess 
and we get Barbie

Denial of the Self in the Natural
Cycle Rhythm 
Arrogance to tears that have
No alphabet
Strikes with formidable reminders

Give energy
Receive it back 
Reciprocity 
Removes stagnancy 
Unearths repressed sickness

Let's worship each others sacredness
Beings have soul purpose
Transmute pain into power, art, worship
Tasting something larger than Self
Doorway to whole heart living
What we are preparing for
Magic
Creating magic

Experiencing magic 

Totally within our grasp

As we peel the veils that make it appear 

As invisible or far away

Reach within

FLY 

 

David has returned from Sedona after a one-year absence. He has been offered a position as Tonic Alchemist for a Scandinavian 1-per-cent-er. Tonic Alchemy is creating drinks and teas totally jacked up with chinese herbs and other ninja activating ingredients. His humor is capricious, throwing mental curveballs that require your mind to bend a-la Dali, performing cartwheels in the sandbox of his unique mind. So now, for the record, in one living space we have: one double Sag, one Double Leo, and one Aries, a complete spectrum of fire signs. Surprisingly not a recipe for disaster but rather a lively/riotous/no-bullshit evolution zone where no conversation topic is off-limits. Combined powers influence our tamasic Double Virgo roommate, noticeably activated by all the Raja energy. Attention-deprived components are composted and/or incinerated on a regular basis, fire burning through the physic stagnation that requires shift.

A couple of weeks ago after Parker's show i ran into Justin, whom I hadn't seen in about a year. He is a cacao master who has been recently dubbed 'Minister of Chocolate.' I share my story about the cups (previous post) unwrapping a moment of overlap + confirmation to monkey calling delight. Ajna level attraction requires no exchange of phone numbers, intuitive signal clearly beyond our mutual comprehension. We bow to the multiple galactic do-si-does in it's healing hilarity. He looks me in the eye, 'i go about my day wondering where i am when i am...and then 'this' happens, and i say 'well, of course!'' We cannot stop running into each other. What appears as a hug and animated banter on the exterior is actually an astral wizard council gathering arranged by the cosmos, no questioning, only enjoying the Triple Gemini Pranic bliss blast. BEing with Justin is like riding on a rubberband rollercoaster without a harness and So What! Fling me! Undoubtedly I will either bounce back up or fly, go ahead, fling me so i can find out!

All of this is happening in the context of this transformational teacher training. My yoga family is reporting experiencing waves of growth-expanding opportunities. Yin energy unearths deep listening to complex triggers while remaining open to the mystery, surrendering to the Great Mother. Simultaneously Yang energy stabilizes and beings motivate from determined strength and clarity. A friend offers that i am in perfect timing due to acceleration/2012 stuff. I envision the alignment of the planets when i was born, this karmic treasure map, imprinted with suggestive clues about how to know myself, suggest places to dig up and sift as i dance around the wheel of time? Kicking up dirt i boogie with complete trust in the formless while making wild monkey calls. OK end-of-the-world, i'm ready for ya.

A woman walking her dog carrying a Starbucks paper cup sets me off. My inner judge scowls, 'if You KNOW You are going to Starbucks, take a fucking cup!' All i notice is trash. I calculate: 30 days = 30 cups + 30 lids + 30 of those brown cardboard thingies to keep the fingers from burning is overflowing from the bin liner of my brain. My table-turning teacher asks, 'so...Gina - if You are seeing this, what is it saying about You? What do You wish to throw away? What garbage do You want to rid yourself of forever?' Hmmmm. Irritations provide clues into profound reflection of Self. Ever curious to 'what' result, the gravity-defying frizzy-haired scientist tweaks slight adjustments to the ongoing experiment. I ponder/wonder in this time of full moon Aries, guardian of the cardinal fire, igniting new paths to burn, recycle and reuse this sacred pranic fuel.  

Tantric Kundalini teacher training is in fast full swing, intense daily downloads without sufficient time to integrate chafe deeper emotional triggers rising for resistant review. Not embodying responsibility for my Power becomes thwarted in self recline ~ as if giving the remote to another to change my channels. This is MY broadcast and what i offer becomes the resonance i provide in this energetic balance. I am not alone, the universe supports in the weaving of creating the ToBeAnnounced, the yet uncreated. From darkness springs light shedding on the 'How' to do life as a whole n complete being to the best of my ability within the mystery.

Huge traveling electrical expansions are my experience this week and push my physical and energetic bodies to the limit. A simple Halasana with feet pushing against a wall for 8 minutes vomits an explosion of energy into my pelvic floor, causing illium to separate and grow space from an intimate point from deep cry within to unseat tears from various lifetimes, injuries, and loss. As i move into teachings surrounding the heart chakra there is tingling in my tailbone which quickly turns into strong electric currents scribbling all over my root, sharp lightning shooting up my spine to land behind left eye, facial bones spreading as third eye shifts to wide angle. I hold hand to forehead as if to catch it and pull it out, cycle it back to its origin. Is this ecstatic pain Kundalini uncoiling? Or simply a taste of what is yet to come as the progression in the practice intensifies, burning psychic garbage as i go.

Balance...is what Tantra is ultimately about, nothing taken to an extreme. Although it is exactly in the extremes of this experience where i locate, curse, and proceed with caution. 'I have overdone it again' drives me to the other extreme, which looks like punishment and withhold, and equally power diminishing. However, even in this short-fuse-daze i lay in juxtaposition. Allowing the chitta to hover unobtrusively, yin listening activated while deactivating the Interrupter who wishes people to be more succinct and remember that a conversation is an exchange rather than a lecture or spiel. Compassion knows that people are not used to being heard tend to run on if unopposed. Clearer emotional communication is required to share where i am 'at' and having my needs met without hurting others is a delicate stroll as if trying to walk only on the stones in between all the precious undergrowth alive and fertile with possibilities.

I have no beginning or end, i am merely a journey: earth woman in search of accumulating more healthy love for myself (and other paper cup carriers.)   

A wizard traveling with the name Elijah spreads a deck of cards in front of me, i have chosen 'remember.' Brain accelerates and twists to capture what it Is...what thing, what who, what where? Tension morphs into reclining via magnanimous laughter highway at the no specific thing, space opening to do the remembering.

Burning Man number 3 is a potent combination of wisdom in wonderment. Mystic journey stepping into vast vortex of fully expanded Self. Rocking and grooving with expanded rhythms approaching...moving beyond what previous molds were meant to shape ~ emerging as, from, and back into dust. Playa sparkle is a formless fracticality of imagination, ever present, getting into every crevasse without regard for where destiny takes it. It ignites and shines in kaleidoscope embracing whole sensuous beings who thrive in supporting the spread of the infectious waves of self expression. It is an allowing of self n others to Be In Love, to exist As Love. 

Temple sound activation brings tears as words and mandalas ooze from my Sharpie. I am blanketed in gratitude for this life chosen by Me and lived as Me. Fiercely alive, abundantly passionate, freedom funk level highs bringing IT into form as Me. Human mirrors abound in this set, this play, this cosmic joke as i travel i discover keys everywhere i go. Keys unlocking heart-placed recognition referrals reminders of reality i create in all moments.   


Meetings of Masters manifest miracles. Spirit spiced gifting projectile activations on the dance 'floor' - this earth, this rock bed of growth, an im-proving ground of divine experiments. Where can i infuse and influence? What moves and offerings can i provide to aid in accessing the monkey - the ninja in You? How many ways can i show You the expansion of who You are? Gathering is a fringe freak frenzy sending constant reminders to the opening of possibility awaiting Your being. Reciprocal action flowers acknowledgment and confirmation in receiving it on this karmic-crazed cyclical treasure trail where we overlap, taking a giant evolutionary leap aboard the gold fire-breathing dragon with the soundtrack of a new paradigm.  

Shake free from what You think You know my friends, the time is here to discard the idea of 'when' shift will happen. It is happening Now in every wake dream moment, and it is happening because of You, what will You do with it? You remember, i heard you make the declaration already, so live it with conviction and courage, it suits You. 




 

The universe has been asking me to step up for some time. Of course there is a push back in process. I am still on the quest to know myself through and through. Delving into head space gets exhausting too narrow to see mySelf in its entirety. I can see the world in macro, why not myself?

Thursday's Art Crawl I meet Nathan, an underfed, dirty/gorgeous painter with perpetual half-smirk. Head-on march + smile, total certainty that this person was to have some impact, but in which regards remained to be seen. Sexual neutrality fights with my very human need for attention while trying to know him rather than my animal inclination to scale him like a rock face. His canvas was black with red dancing hearts containing shadows of faces. The more I looked in it, the more depth was revealed. There is love in shadow as well I thought to myself. 


Bright exchanges in between brushstrokes mutated into
me- 'what are you doing on Saturday?'
Nate- 'I don't know...what am I doing Saturday?'
me- 'Wanna go to Malibu for a 24 hour party?'
Nate- 'MALIBUUUUUUUUUUUU!!!!!!'


Like me, Nathan is a Sagittarius, refreshingly spontaneous and strangely elusive, anything is possible in Sag land. Saturday I surprise him with generosity and kindness, we pack food, sleeping bags, and his art supplies so he can live paint at the party. He explains there is a pressure to create when people are present, he enjoys it. Intense cosmic conversation ensued during the ride up and I was beginning to see Nathan is as dark as his paintings. 


The party was epic, and on the medicine it seemed like a movie. Beautiful friendly people, deep sexy house music, hot tubs and swimming pool, fresh mountain air in a sky full of stars. I was surrounded by friends, we created a force field of magic which attracted new friends, we laughed under the moon and ate fresh figs from the tree in my garden. I met Vishnu, another painter and triple Sagittarius (Sun, Rising and Mercury...Same as ME) plus two other planets in the same placement had me so giggly as if I were seeing me in this amazing galactic creature in male form. Sagittarius men like I said are elusive and I search for meaning in the meeting of two of them in a 3 day space.


Just as the hour was heading into a.m. the Police arrived to break it up. They were throwing us out, drug-soaked revelers forced to get in their cars and move. Panic and confusion abound, my three companions are some of the last to leave the party, stuck shuffling in the dark overloaded with stuff. The shuttle thankfully came to get us, we piled in to head back to the car park. The driver heard a yell, a car went over the cliff. Christina was the only one who had a signal and called 911. Nathan jumped out with two others and I headed back to the cars with Christina. 


As I loaded my car, firetrucks and ambulances headed up the mountain. Christina and Vishnu had escaped, Nathan was still out there somewhere. I was alone and slept in the car until helicopters shook me awake. Nathan was back at the house and I went to collect him. I passed the firemen on the way, they told me there were 4 people in the car, one had died and the others were very critical. 


On the way back, Nate and I stopped for breakfast. He described standing on the edge of the road in the dark, echoing voices calling for help. He explained over coffee and scrambled eggs that he has been clean for 2 years. He has done every drug on the planet. His father AND grandfather had both committed suicide and he often swam in this emotional sway as if it were in his blood. He said it was a pleasure and a blessing to be in my company. We decided to hike in Temescal and hardly a word exchanged between us after the magnitude of the last 24 hours. 


Gift of life ever present and makes all current discourse unimportant. Nathan in male opposition points out my shadows as if I were his canvas. He feels my warrior pressing at him, but I was experiencing a simultaneous conscious awareness of it vs. reaction in tandem. Which aspect will come out shining? Who cares? I am not pieces constantly begging for repair. Wholeness of me: light + shadow dancing together in the fullness of complete being. I see me. I appreciate the totality of me in fiery fusion, spectral diamond-like fashion. Life is flat if not appreciated for the kaleidoscope of diversity it truly is.

The kindness of my ear has reached breaking point. I.am.Exhausted from the spiraling drama chronicles of close friends. Parker picks unnecessary fights, turning tables and avoiding himself. Ryan shoots at me unlikely scenario projectile reflections ~ deflected by my outer evaluator. Saying nothing and allowing the story to reel on is apparently just as dangerous as a poorly delivered calling out - resulting in thick wall sprouting from the deep subconscious protective place. Feeling more detached and fatigued than ninja-jedi, I separate in search of a clear storyless space.

Hilarity and giggles grow when I capture it ~ as either reaction to all the good that is coming together for me~ or just straight Mercury retrograde fallout. I am 2 chapters close to a (completed!) first draft of my book. I am in possession of one coveted Burning Man ticket, where I will be guiding awesome workshops. Visionary intentions to activate my project, plowing a new turn in my career path, something I cannot even see the entirety of just yet in current space/time. Simply an opening to the unfolding of what will be, and living in a space of 'it already is' to usher in the bounty of the vibration I am holding. Sharing my recent developments excites outlying friends, but with my men it is drawing boyish-level contempt and breath stifling dissatisfaction.

It's to do with feeling + understanding + promoting own heart consciousness. BE the nervous excitement bursting even if its partly crusty (crunchcrunch) the crust is crumbling and needs to be shaken off. Clean food/clean body/clean mind IT is divine IT is certainty IT is not slacking IT is falling several times and laughing. Critical constructive curious eye celebrate calculations of the circumstantial collaborations in the context of 'i don't know ~ show me.' Crystallized creations form in the shape of a moment unexplainable, the mysterious source of everything god makes from scratch conducting through the magic wand of me.

Mercury retrograde's shadow is already shaking things up to the point of tears. Drama draining stories make my flu head hurt even more than before. Parker's deluded perspective incites frustration and when i fight back he informs me (again) that i am in my head, which for the most part is true (i'm a Sag not a Cancer for fuck's sake) but today i am too unwell to think straight much less create a spiral stereo in the mindspace. This worn defense is his mean to tip the arrow in my favor to avoid his own tender spot from being examined.

Perspective is relative and succumbs to our unfed limitations. My view is that the more people get out and away from the mall/telly/cubicle/vending machine living - the better. Tourists on the Venice boardwalk stick out like a hooker in broad daylight. Sparkless eyes averted engaged in displaying disdain for 'different' ~ humans tired of (empty lived) life on a dead-end happiless path offering dull scoffs in between beer sips. 

It dawned on me that regardless to their genuine twisted reaction, this is what they came for, to see the show, experience alternate realities, and listen to some freaky hippies from Venice talking about Burning Man, UFO's and superfoods. Now, they have a story to take home to the other couch potatoes. 

Currently it speaks volumes to me about how closed down perspectives can be detrimental to the overall vibration, and i wish not to participate even if part of me feels they are the enemy. I will be using this retrograde to commit to listening to myself and find the possibility space for ownership, kindness, and sincerely less words in general. 

Parker's 31st birthday launches a transformatory triad tripped up for major release. Combative conversation actively finessed in real time into the owning up in gratitude an emission of our staunchest fears ~ as if held in a balloon on a string = deciding to carry on living funky-fully regardless and alongside fears as a reminder to not become lazy. They are the ammunition, the resistance for acquiring successful liftoff. 

Eclipse-ified residual mounting to a head now turns over and lifts in the playful Leo energy, erasing the float fog fade fart fizzle. Collective light streaming permeates my community. A resounding tribe of masters displaying balance within the galactically assigned archetype ~ tuned to Bruce Lee precision propelled action. Shedding of the walking wounded part of me has me tripping into a surprise type of living experience. Sharing last night over organically produced mouth orgasms at Raw Mama's love nest, little birdies chirped over my ideas and upcoming projects, and making it quite clear that my newfound articulation is being received and resonating favorably.

Extrovert comes out to flirt, my introvert agrees that 'yesssit's beena while...let's have some fun!' signed up to volunteer for the LA stop of the Wanderlust Yoga Festival promotional event. I met cool people, i got a free yoga mat, and was placed to practice in a photogenic hot spot. Third street promenade peddlers were presented with a live class and be coerced to come and join. I mingled freely (much to Ryan's surprise/delight) who monkey-dove right in after to promote Thursday's flash-mob group meditation practiced in matrixed locales to much enthusiasm. (Medmob.org) Turning people onto new cool ideas refreshes and energizes on a deep satisfying soul level. 

'Intelligence without ambition is a bird without wings' ~ Salvador Dalí

This particularly difficult monthly cycle has been a profound journey into seeing the what-is-hidden within the shadow of myself. Shunning certain responsibilities hoping I wouldn't have to look them in the formidable eye. Incredible amounts of build up that seep into dreamtime ~ where i see myself (i thought it Sarah Jessica but it was indeed me) one who goes off with a tall semi-handsome stranger while the reflection (me as well) calls her a whore and steals off into the daylight with tall strangers' camera to take photos while the SJP me does her slutty business.

This morning in my new practice of the morning papers meditation (see the Artist's Way) and the arrival of my blessed moon provides free forming insight and deep levels of integrated realizations. Referencing particular conversations with people who act as sound boards, who are able to hold space in a way i cannot do for myself assist in keeping the grassy field wide open for me to run around and through, leaning into the answers that rise from vast conscious heartspace.

Fears approach with open hand. I dance lightly with them in doe~si~doe exchange, keeping them at an arms distance in preparation to embrace (like i mean it) and certify they are real and they exist in the shadow of me, but they are to be paid beautiful attention to, because they are an untapped source of richness that awaits in the experience about to be lived through me. A true expression of the divine in the form of gina zappia, the embodied spirit. A way that if isn't reconciled with, may be the end of my virtual frame of being. A humble-crumble blast of light on the complete reality of me. Life force Blood and Word flow with concrete confidence - authentic, kind, and wise - and a willingness to explore beyond current boundaries with vigor.

Secret (or seemingly) unknown source of tear flow dam has broken and in so the real shed has begun in the face of brevity for living super full/super hero even though inducing a shitless level of scariness ~ but if i am indeed holding in the belief that i am shiva + brahma, I AM the spark that is labeled the God Particle, then why persist in holding anything back? If i am not inspiring myself, then who am i inspiring? Time to learn more skills for the next level of play. Time to rise from the sidelines into action, but not quite time for washing my hair with the Gatorade.

Earlier today, a representative from the ACLU was schooling me about the subject of bullying. It would appear to be peaking, and the number of suicides has also risen dramatically because of these bullies. Questioning him if that were reality or propaganda, I donated to the cause because this guy was disheartened. He wasn't wondering how it got that way, only determined to support putting a fence around it, and fixing it with freedom squandering laws that create peoples even less responsible for their actions than they already are.

If there are indeed a record number of bullies, they torment because they lack self-esteem, we are now witnessing the results of the experiment. Products of the offspring of the American Dream cloud hallucination. Pervasive support system networked hyper-linked streamless stuff entering a particular person's consciousness and he has zero tools to work with, aaaaaaand collectively we believe ourselves now to be shit. 

Minus crucial foundation like tolerance/objectivity/responsibility/right history avalanching into our current illusion of lack. Keeping, holding, and accumulating 'things' as if trying to erase impermanence, and its showing more than ever. Patriarchal band-aids will not do anymore, Ma is returning to her rightful place, and she has an army of her own. Call them Urban Hippies and Neo-Pagans, but more and more people are tuned into the idea there are more worthwhile currencies than money. 

Old crumpled feelings are accumulating into a ball ready to be pitched out for a home run hit. They are looking for an outlet through tears which aren't coming out exactly right. They have a potential I haven't felt in months. Certainly there should be more than this, is the well nearly dry? Scanning Netfix for tearjerkers while massaging the point in my neck that makes my eye wiggle hoping to induce some overflow.

Colliding with keen recognition made available to me just today, a lack so acute and whiny having to do with the desire for a partner. It says 'i am unapproachable' 'nobody wants to be with me' and my favorite 'if you are so fucking-awesome-beautifulandamazing why are you alone?' and I see the little 12 year old me wondering where my dreams would take me. I am still wondering, but from a more forgiving and truthful location.

Currently confirming the well is definitely NOT dry...it is nearly knee deep and it splashes Gratitude. I'm leaping out of that worn-out box, it doesn't fit me anymore.

This is a chance to live thee - I am allowing You to Be Your Self, because I am doing the same for myself. More Cuddle, Less Bully. Starting Now. Everyone.

Amplified accountability levels are playing out in current realm within. Multiple medicine downloads samba with intricate integrations initiating in part to relaxing festive weekending surrounded by truly magnificent people. People who make right in the world, creative, supportive, inspiring, huge-hearted life-appreciators. Evolutioning this co-creative vibe and expanding it out like a big love beam. There is great mutual respect and marvel for love's warriors on authentically integrating pathways.

Old friend struggle comes rippling, wondering where is the 'movement' where's my tangible results? Small adjustment reminder in whole-being-knowing that it IS indeed happening and WE are making it happen. A conscious human created kundalini snake-wave of energy is uncoiling (to great applause and excitement!) Practitioners owning their power, and wielding it with precise intention while the victim mentality gets tossed in Shiva's recycling bin. This shared cosmic joke is an opportunity to connect and enjoy ourselves in the pool of oneness. The upright insignificants of the universe. We are an energy flow choosing how we wish to exist in the flow. 

Will it be Upright or Uptight for you today, sir? Dunno...let me check my iPhone first..

Communicating compassionately with my arm-crossed stubborn loitering doubt. Senses simply lagging behind in the truth-felt-knowing. Perhaps my cones and rods need to 'see' and calculate its realness. Elongated periods of seeing via pituitary eye change the viewpoint from Cyclops to Brahma. Does confidence have its own vibration? It has been known to waiver in context. I ease up on it and let it wander around for a bit...see where it wants to be before nudging it on like the overlooked wallflower wishing to dance with cute boys. Awkward processing integration and practice is multi-level and ever tumbling in and out. Endurance leads to gratitude and a glimpse of grace in elegant motion.  

Opportunities to practice abound in shared living spaces. Integrity training with the two Ryans and Parker, who school me and put up with my annoyed self. Mindful men holding space and serving the feminine with balance to the point of the complete transparency of me, exposing my courageous heart, testing my consistency in honor and self-responsibility. One Ryan allows pressure-less space, merely nodding with fixed eyes. Parker just outright corrects in Texan twang, while other Ryan's questions hang mid-air...

'how does that make you feel?

'is that what you really wanted to say?' 

makes for one confounded little monkey

Learning to navigate the magic gateway of the heart through harmoniacal means, feeling lucky to have the setup (that I called in), while examining the mechanics of what creates zero ruffle vs. what is reaction-inducing. Feeling fully the irritation and tip-toe talking through it as if I had never before put words together in a sentence. 

Subtle changes in voice are detected when not really meaning it, throat slips out of resonance and changes pitch. C'mon Sag, pause and think about what is coming out of this mouth. Reactions fly out like a bat from its cave, speeding away so fast I cannot catch it. Shit. Ah, right, I can apologize, I can clarify, I can rephrase, redo, in any moment, in every moment, especially when I am offered the space to do so as a reflection and a chance to dance.it.out. 

Secretly streaming inner dialogue is judging Parker's new found fire to push himself. It's quacking 'that's not right' into a second thought of 'what the hell do I know?' and decide to autocratically supersede myself and have some fun. I push myself into a writing schedule, which has proven very effective. I remember now that I am a force of energy, and I am taking up space. It is time to start living It with some intent and impact, for I indeed make waves when dropped in water.

Parker cleverly calling out my annoying sabotaging semantics caught me off guard, in a way where no wall appeared. An abundance of fails emerge into graceful space between us. Exhausted egos at rest, he was finally able to slip it into my place of least resistance. After days of toe stomping, we were actually starting to samba. His delivery soft and thoughtful, easing into my receptive reaction-less rhythm. He reflects on my intent to over-analyze feelings, rather than just feeling them. Yes, the beauracracy of my mind is keeping my heart from communicating fully. My face scrunches up when asked how I feel, I want to exaggerate with poetry and other diversities. I have forgotten how to just say happy or angry or sad. It seems too simple somehow. I want to decipher the 'how of the what' instead of just stating the obvious. Heart + head have landed in an episode of Three's Company, and Mr. Furley needs an explanation spelled out for him before he faints.  

Just before I left Mexico, I had a tarot reading with an herb-smoking Israeli clairvoyant, who told me a Sagittarius is a 'lawyer and criminal in one person, do not listen to yourself at all too much.'

My tribe is unknowingly yet consciously holding space and pushing me into opinion zone, where my imput is necessary and valued before making final group decisions. Being a rather easy-going soul I usually don't provide my two cents. Stepping into a new flow knowing I am part of the collaboration, and what I say matters. Learning how to express what I want has been a miraculous discovery.

Along this thought line somewhere tribes are overlapping and I am sure there are some beautiful men on the other side of this wanting. Parker reminds me of the universal implications: to declare not to 'want' a boyfriend, but instead to be 'open to' or 'ready' for a boyfriend. As my magnetism increases I wonder if my heart's GPS signal will reach them and tell them where to find me. Hopefully there won't be too much red tape involved. 

My dad is shaking an old steno pad in my direction. He chuckles in Italianized English 'thu-th-this-a notebook here-a conTains a lisT of-a my fears!.' Entries ping-pong from the absurdly cartoony 'fear of a piano dropping my head,' to the absolutely unthinkable, 'fear of losing my hands.' he says in lowered tone. My father is a master tailor, you see. I also resonate in fear during that thoughts' pause. My hands - a major mystical portal to expanded consciousness, a dynamic pliable structure in constant shift on the cellular homeostasis. Hyper-awareness obsessive disorder anyone? I am truth-tripping on nature's home grown conscious boosters.

Five-fingered gateways with an appetite for fondling or poking every fucking thing (yes gross sticky stuff too, but mostly textiles, sides of buildings, trees and smooth brown skin) brain neurons popping through applied artful actions a mano. They are the quantum traffic controllers, like a Reiki spider(wo)man. I multi-color scribble my way into book rewrites, I cut up my words and re-piece them like magnetic poetry...They have also started to crochet and do Google searches for the grids of consciousness, and they are taking a large quantity of notes. The learning is reinforced when it is heard, written and read, like learning it three different ways at once.

Exhausted I lay down my notebook and pen. Gathering other peoples words for so long, I wish not to be a parakita any longer. Brain needs a shuffle/sort/reboot, so it can boogie to its own tuned rhythm. Hours of crochet providing a means to let details slot into their homes, organizing into gradual expansion of authentic amplifying voice. The micro and the macro resonate on a palpable plane for me. It's like being in two places at once, I am there...and I am sitting here in this little body, ok that's cool, but it freaks me out sometimes, and it makes me laugh because it is so.very.fucking.weird. I AM the groove, the vibration, and it is my 'voice' + my 'dance' + my 'song' = my true expression.

Double knot stitching is the DJ for this remix.

My father bellows down the phone "it's like trying to explain what chocolate tastes like!"

This last lunar eclipse is having some sort of warewolfing effect on me, Ryan lent me a wearable grounding device that removes static from the body, and is aiding divinely deep sleeping in an otherwise fluctuating insomniac existence. My new penchant for quality sleep was my argument for not staying until the end of Devi Bhava, the all night kirtan hugfest featuring Amma, Indian saint, the embodiment of Shakti, embracing millions worldwide. Her organization and volunteers accomplishing more than all world governments combined. The Hilton LAX was swimming in the divine feminine, planes flying overhead were getting splattered with it, and carrying it up into the clouds like huge metal energetic rickshaws.

I sat in the middle of the bhaktis and watched the people coming off the stage post Darshan, they were touching their hearts, laughing, or crying. Some were beside themselves with bubbling joy. Last year I did a dance after my first Amma hug, she saw me (i cannot put enough emphasis on the word saw) and we morphed into two howling monkeys having the best time ever throwing shit in each others faces! I slithered back down the stairs proclaiming 'Amma is a monkey - I knew it!!' We are Amma's children, human beams of light and love softening over-protected hearts, it makes squishy when held in ultimate safety in the arms of the mother. We were floating in the space of that feeling, that deep remembering, held together with the glue called shakti. Everything is alright.  

Eyes combing through the giant hall, savoring the visual feast of LA's inhabitants, witnessing the results of this experimental oil change for the psyche. The gradual shift over 5 days spent mixing the matrix in with magicians. My current level of trust is making me feel a bit cocky, I ask Spirit to show me the Grid. I am curious to see if it is a hologram or made of diamonds. I want to experience what was behind the words of Rumi, the paint brush of Dali, the thing that makes the seed sprout, yes show me that vibrationally woven tapestry. Haz changitos (fingers crossed) in hopes the download completes before crossing the imaginary line of 'the real world starts Here' and shoes have to be put back on before returning to the iGrid.

Current conclusions not yet set in truthy stone, for i am indeed in peculiar territory, appreciating this unconventional groove, sustained in the rhythm of planetary zing. There is a whisper of difference between the allowing and the creating of each moment, ever open wide to unseen forces at large. Mother isn't convinced, however. Maternally laced alerts hustle with judgments disguised as concern, compelled belching stemming from auto-pilot tugs at my sympathetic nervous system to confirm its realness. Inclination to correct the construct is withheld, leaving the anxious path to her in which she has chosen to reside. 

Proof culminating into a belief system based on trust in the universe and Self. Super-charged energy still resonating from SoCal festival encounters, i clearly do not fit into the matrix. Smiles and laughing seemingly unwelcome, enjoyment left to sailboat for destination asleep abyss without pure water to drink. Incessant urgings to make mischief, to poke, shake, awaken the illusionally duped, actively digging for creative ways to express heartfelt rebel missions. Dispensing concepts for balancing rational mind thought with intuitive sensations propel me forward into original uses of this life's purpose. 

Auspicious allies dive head first into cosmic conspiring, formulating, sharing, listening critically. Three distinct viewpoints exist as interlocking pieces, providing scenarios and possibilities, support and success in manifesting the phenomenal. There is no telling when two earth signs combine with fire. Fire offers radical ideas, Earth looking for a way to secure it, ground it, create a marketing plan for it - complete with two for one offers.

Group effort snowballs and accelerates within, vibrating for hours after, dreamtime calls quick to process fast approaching downloads. Flipside reveals a formerly unseen personal connection, gaps rapidly filling in, space in between merely coincidences waiting for the acknowledgment. Meanwhile the work continues to shape and form directly from the unrecognizable, the layout of endless possibilities, a virginal map of prime destinations distinctly designated by me. I am more excited about where mind doesn't wish to go than where it is accustomed to wander.   

Strolling in heart-beat time, with a mischievous bounce, i purr as a lioness and howl like a monkey, for i.am.at. Lightning in a Bottle. Upon first glance, a scaled-down Burning Man living with lush green foliage and untouchable lake, a juicy Symbiosis fringe-family-feel, plus a bonus fur and glitter lined activation swirling out to the galactic grid.  There is no more fucking around with these magic people, they are acutely conscious and tuned in, inebriated with life. 

Reflecting with ancestral souls softens me to the I AM point of expression, the entirely playful, funky, ninja-monkey set into motion. Body's intense desire to shake off accumulated cosmic dust from the past few forevers. Mushroom medicine accompanies this ride along with copious amounts of hashish, while sipping Chocolate Cowboys (half coffee/half chocolate) in attempts to push the chilling lake night air from deep in the bones.  Fellow monkeys grooving on dusty dance floors escort me into beat patterns they are hooked into, i dance for all the people who cannot, and a few who don't want to. 

LIB is the ultimate eye candyland for watchers and watchees.  Space permitting to simply Be. Birthing a magical, sage-smelling atmosphere, where divine timing is observed. It is borderline unbelievable until breathed in fully, head nods in agreement with heart, 'this is where i live!' Laughter rising, chakras exploding, energy pinballing and popping with no chance of settling or integrating until the completion of at least 7 yoga classes under the burning sun. Not until assimilating the fireworks from the multitude of tender totemic embraces accumulated by the weekends close.  

Central nervous system freaking on love overdrive, i advance uphill flanked by two beautiful goddesses. Jen who really knows how to kick it, and Ali, the unofficial (although undisputed) festival Contessa. Simultaneous second chakra heated rumblings interrupt in intense volcano style. Shakti powers combine to shuffle it, direct it, breathe it, release it, and restfully send it back to Mother Earth.  Festival womb energy multiplies the healing abilities, results reaching far and wide. Seekers of all levels become ever changed from direct exposure to this blast of amor.

Continuous loops of potent workshops, yoga, monkey chanting, hugging, eating, meditating, moving, repeated trips to the tea house and bliss bar- there exists a resonating theme- as if we had made an earthly agreement astrally beforehand. Right intention consciously practiced in group form expands vibrations exponentially. More so when participants are undoubtedly aware of it's effect on the whole, backed by gratitude and fearlessness, and dead serious about authentically energizing the field. 

Questions arise concerning the ability to hold it, keep a piece of it in the pockets at all times, especially when naked. Is it possible to carry it everywhere? To flash it, dangle it, hold it out like a carrot for others. Get used to people looking at you as if you were crazy, or is that already happening? If so, good. Perfect. Keep Up.  

Matrix re-entry is an opportunity sustaining me in current relish, a moment of recognition that i am in truth, proximal to, perhaps even truly embedded in living and projecting my soul's purpose with clarity, focus, and indeed a plan. A Sagittarius with a plan you ask with a naughty chuckle? Verily it is true, no dead-lines here, only life-lines. Sprawled creativity rooting into Terra firma, what i am meant to be doing with the shiny greatness i own. 

Gratitude for divinely timed friendships, slippery lessons integrated and the Past left where it should be. Expanding with a feeling of renewed open course steering into the unknown with confidence and support. United tribe building around me, blessed heretic accomplices join me in action, true catalysts in the work required of the love revolutionary. Proof what happens when authentic beings rise to the occasion, creating multi-level magic for the betterment of humanity.   


Thoughts creep as to what it is exactly i am doing. Why doesn't it have a name? How can i know when it hasn't been done yet? I don't know and i prefer not to know. I just keep being as much 'me' as i am, not relying on the subconscious, living in the 5% where the present conscious mind resides, as often and awarely as possible. Concerns remain to package it and make money from it and also the desire to share that money in a philanthropic way, share in projects and creations that will stimulate the process of us being able to leave the place better than we found it. 

As the crumbling establishment continues to cling to crusty belief, the rest of us are actively inventing cutting-edge jedi-ninja spirals, for the cause of collective enlightenment. Pushing against the illusion, breaking up the harmful beliefs, circumventing the system of control, greed, and corruption, forming a new undercurrent of values based on our devotion to the mother, to the oneness we all doubtlessly are. 

Fanatic fringe religious believers watching the world continue on this supposed calculated Judgment Day. However, there is some truth in this end, and it has been centuries in the making, for our tribe are convincingly enraptured. Rapture is defined as “ecstatic joy or delight; joyful ecstasy” and “the carrying of a person to another place or sphere of existence" it's merely fact that one doesn't have to die to experience rapture when one is already performing the act in the fullest experience of living with grace and fearlessness. I suggest not holding applause until the very end. 

Cosmic-charged Baja time is coming to a close, and with all honesty, I stand changed, transformed, new, and indeed improved. Improved in the understanding of myself, and the space I occupy in the world. Yet, I am lonely out here in the desert, the disconnect from friends and profound conversational clicking leaves life living in a void where winds blow as loudly as waves crash on the shoreline.

Large lessons in practical application increase confidence exuding unapologetically from all pores. Not just as something seen by others, but truly felt from within. Desert energy purifying soul to expansive edginess of living each moment in synchronized perfection. Two months with only a handful of meaningful banter due to the nature of this isolated ex-pat community.

Socially challenged gringos live cheap while living in million dollar abodes, surfing, and freely gossiping. Without internet or phone signal, 60-year-olds act like stoned high-schoolers with ATV’s, an endless supply of information and empty opinions of the surrounding neighbors. My refusal to divulge personal details, lines of inquiry returned with a changing of subject, leaves my neighbors in disarray, increasing the mystery of the single hottie from Miami Beach.

There are no single women for kilometers here. None. A woman on her own is: a mystery, a threat, a pity, an open invitation to molest, and a brave spirit all in one. Suspicions and curiosities arise all up and down this patch of dry dirt road. Without the capabilities to change the view of women in the eyes of the entire world, I gently offer to educate one by one.

Comic handling of transient males in wetsuits, caged in outdated paradigms, completely unable to confirm any slight retention or significant effects from firm dealings. Soul deep longing to stand up for myself, sacred masculine activated, a self-assured being, saying no has never been more pleasurable, the icing on this playground paradise.

Duality naturally exists in the same experience. Universe has skillfully connected me to authentic and beautiful men, loaded with honor and personality, who have allowed me to simply Be present and honest, with a nourishing and collaborative intention, elevated beyond the obvious sexual and physical attributes.

In meditation realizing I have been attracting this element for some time, and now retain numerous sexless relationships with this sort of hu-man. Gratitude spilling over for these lovers which are a great source of comfort to me, activating and balancing intense shiva/shakti energies.

‘Found’ is how I feel. This enlightened tribe of dedicated souls, drawing ever together, strengthening in combined force. Harmony is achieved in balance when souls are open to receive, simply being open to all possibilities. Visions crystallizing, trust builds in manifestations realized, present for the mystery yet to be revealed, the result of our combined and right-intentioned journey as I freefall into the unfolding unknown.   

Amazing accomplishments are achieved when doing absolutely nothing. Unplugged semi-seclusion, embraced between mountains and roaring sea. Expansive nights under an umbrella of stars in 3D due to gaia's hyper-pronounced curvature. Searching continues for words to describe the majestic trippiness of it all. 

Here on earth long-winded spirals coming to zero point. Endings are beginnings here in extended kumbhaka, ready and excited about spreading blessings sprouting from my greatest gift. New acceptance of the radical prankster, the smartass firecracker that used to get me into endless trouble with authority, has reincarnated into feisty activist life loving criminal. Surely has something to do with hanging out with these beautiful Mexican women of power and voice. 

Directing this abundance of fire accordingly to the situation, i have an avalanche of creativity at the moment, like a child in a room full of items she can actually touch, wandering through songs, scribbles, and shimmies, heart open and wandering through the fun house of life. 

Possible future paths flutter as i experience a greater communion with my soul's purpose, which i have been preparing for all this time. Seeing all the connections (even the supposed 'wrong' turns) reveals truth of my intuition being way ahead of 'me' and the greater acceptance of that gospel, the faster i accelerate and galactivate. 

Also coming through is a wholeness, more balance within self. Planning, scheming, experimenting, putting the Virgo elements in this set-up for my unfolding without pressure to 'make' something. Childhood programming beaten down via presence and forgiveness, why not simply enjoy the journey? 

The human brain in conversation only hears about half of what is heard (explains why speaking a new language is easier than comprehending it) the other half is filled in with one's own sense of context. Could there be an overage of pressure trying to figure out the mysterious half? The window moment before response can be taught to widen, but only after the admittance to being in the reactionary state. Spiritual conditioning continues...

Attempting to write or even just scribble, days of waiting patiently for words to organize in sequential fashion, instead of this fucking buzzing around, so potentially agonizing, yet I'm feeling confident and on top of it, and just observing the thing makes it go all shrinky-dink. Life practice becoming increasingly like Parkour, requiring more agility and endurance, abandoning fears that I won't clear the next destination, even if I do get a gash or slip now and then.  
 

This last multi-layered wave has been taking its time to integrate, swerving into tangent topics, astral juggling at its finest. Laughing today about the reflection of imbalance, but viewing it from another mirror's multiverse, it is the moment when the routes overlap creating compassionate love across the board and scale at its junction and beyond. 

The first of two amazing cosmic healings in the past fortnight reconnect me with my accumulated karma, arriving in flashes unwinding before me like a sutra of my soul's journey, creeping and piling up on me. My subconscious mind was 'opened' by a friend with true wizard powers. I found myself on horseback breathing heavily with a large wooden stake stabbing with the precision and voraciousness of Achilles, light and prana moved through my physical form unwinding ancient pains as well as ancient sacred wisdom. The wise woman was encouraged to surface from the depths with a mad professor grin like 'let's do this already' I snaked my body and stretched feeling fascia lengthen from head to toe, peeling away transforming back into spacedust. 

Awareness on high alert, discipline turned to 11, hyper-objective chosen mind moments suspend as long as Osho's pause before answering a question, sans a single blink. Lessons about boundaries, holding value and worth to self, healing deep past misteachings through the unintentional fault of particularly no one. Revelations suggest skipping back through old issues with new and curious fascination, creating a conscious spiral activation, beginning with an appetite for additional devices and tactics. Thanks time travel! I could never dream of boons such as this! I feel gratitude rise as high as clouds and I shiver on the cellular level. Vibration doing its divine toning and allow myself to be played like a sitar. Ethereal, yet with rooted and abundant base support, balance feeling ever closer. I see from a distance now and I recognize it by its walk, I welcome it in, and kick the rest out the back door into the cosmic recycling bin. 

Painting serving as meditation, losing gaze in my muscular little monkey hands as some strange and nimble gateway, how many lives have I worked with these hands, and how many things have I been doing with them? Lively ganja-inspired conversations with a gregarious and gorgeous Austrian neighbor produced a result after much rollercoastering that I can now see the expanded future ahead, what it will be about, and how it will be shaped. Downloads continuously coming in, surrender, receive and integrate is the current plan. Influence of Aquarius moon igniting the humanitarian rebel inside, the love revolutionary!

Today's healing connected to healing the divine masculine, possibly jurassic in the making, still confronting me today. Huge energy shifts align my bodies and ready for a little more Parkour (insert smiley face here).  

Achieving a greater success in the neutral space removes my need for analyzing with brain and allows me to live and express myself through intrepid heart. Detaching myself from shifting truths that confuse and jostle my perception, my evolution of awareness is unfolding with greater momentum and precision fine-tuning.

Solo apartment time fractionally restores me to former self. The appearance of togetherness masks tightrope wavering between strangulation and liberation of psyche. One or two jedi companions aptly detecting undercurrents of heartbreak simmering from below amongst the embraces and comments over time missed. Discomfort stemming from mixed, diluted and over-exposed messages leads me on a fact-finding mission for reality, removing fiction and myth, objective in perspective.  

Peter is perplexing and periodically intense, predictable only in his unpredictability. Inevitable recent determined harmoniacal discourses reveal clarity on where 'we' stand. Unconscious struggle to share power topped by a mutual disinterest in trying to make a ship of romantic nature, plus a bonus garnish of the standard argument of declining passion for me sexually. Accompanied by days of recurrent emotional pendulums ranging from exposed and sensitive to rotten and brutish. Trickling in periodically, hand-written notes acknowledging his gratitude for me, an elegant solution to a mistake sprouted from reactionary origin.

Frustration of choosing to navigate through his actions leading to eventual disengaging and a realization of deserving better treatment from a man. In relentlessly changing truth, clingless is my rational solution. Continued allowing of the evolution to endure requires even a letting go of desires to make a commitment to 'being me.' I am different every single day, and so is everyone else. Sticking to the practice of maintaining my heartspace in highest regard, keeping to my vision and the ultimate illusory self-illuminating 'thing' of what it is I want, which in itself is in constant flux.

Water still moves around the finger I place in it. I can push it around and splash it, but it is not bothered by my actions to move it one way or the other and I am unable to see where it has merged back into itself. A lesson in practice ~ eventually cutting myself from egotistically judging my many maddening duel-sided Gemini friends, unsuccessful attempts to help them 'save time.' Individual paths are sprinkled with mandatory mistakes experienced for the sake of gaining personal wisdom. Removal of judgment and the personal need to shift others by letting others BE instead of trying to create a certain outcome permits compassionate and forgiving love in its divine timing, accelerated by the very action of letting it be love.
   

This current placement of weariness is the result of an experiment of my own choosing. It is this connection I asked the universe for, I surrendered and said 'OK bring it on.' Admiring my own stamina in this latest experience not unlike a curveball hailstorm, energetic body bruised from getting pelted until I remember 'wait!' I am the one who activates grandfather sun's return.

In pursuit of continuous, story-free liberated mind frames, I tread in self-dissecting dialogue with friends illuminating foiling truths that stories are indeed creeping in, through an unhinged subconscious back door. This observer is moving into territory obviously up for review, but now internal heart-tuned GPS now navigates instead of programmed reactionary debris, already sent to various recycling trips. The universe has upped the game on me this time around, in the form of Peter.  

This reflection shared in close quarters where moods and dramas become multiple opportunities for misunderstandings. I zen myself into silence, let limbic brain have its thought, then a more realistic look, and a conscious choice to not react in 'that' way anymore. Letting go of the need for approval from him takes a few days to acclimatise in my field, until relaxation comes in waves which I must always navigate. Part of me is not present, and thinks about being in a relationship, and even what my idea of what a relationship consists. Programming being held up and shown to me like a flash card, or sometimes in cartoon bubble form, that I enjoy to pop with my mental finger.

He is overloaded with directing energy into his admirable love-based projects. Worries over security and where is money going to come from occupy him to the point he says 'I don't want to do this anymore.''Good!' I reply, 'you are almost there!' A day later, he gave up, completely surrendered, stepping into the flow with soft grace, and breathing in love fully. It was a beautiful moment to witness, I compared him to Brahma, with thousands of eyes in all directions, view completely unobstructed. 

Apparently not ninja enough though as we succumbed to an aching fever-delirious flu lasting the better part two days. Heated bodies on healing overdrive burning up old pains, the reminder to take care of the temple, be kind with its contents. Bodies still returning to balance as I make plans to move out, alone space is required for optimal rhythms of normalcy within one's own level of weirdness.