sisterhood fail
Bitches. I don't get them. 

Let's just get the arrogance out of the way. Ultimately I know I'm no better or worse, but before I get to the acceptance part, I figure it'd be good to acknowledge that I definitely am different. 

Somehow I put myself in a separate category from most other women, oh, hell, let's face it, all of them. 
We just don't seem to get along. We seem to make each other uncomfortable, and it's me, something about me, 
because they all seem to get along with each other just fine. 

To be honest, yeah, it makes me kinda sad. 'Cause it'd be nice to have girlfriends. We could go out, get our nails did, go shopping, go for walks, do art projects, hang out and watch chick flicks, do all that stuff that guys do when they hang out, except the girly version, 
as if I had any idea what that looked like anymore. 

Even years ago, I don't think I ever really fit in. I used to try, maybe that's why I got so damn depressed. 
I'm I really that intimidating? Or am I just socially awkward?
Maybe it should be an and/or....

Maybe other women haven't surpassed the need for validation at every single fucking turn they make. 
Maybe other women still believe that they have to plaster makeup on their face to go to a fucking barbecue, curl their hair, spritz man attracting stench all over themselves, assemble in packs and stick together, backs together, claws out. 

I'd rather stand on my own. 
Maybe it's just because I've known no other way, 
I've experienced it, 
But there's no knowledge present in that mindset. 

And yeah, I'm grouping, generalizing, homogenizing. 
Based on my experience though, "real" people, male or female, are few and far between, 
Or, again, maybe I'm just looking in the wrong spots, or looking at the wrong parts.


Maybe I should just face it. 
I'm skinny. I'm gorgeous. I'm fucking hilarious. I'm highly intelligent, talented and gifted. 
And I know it. 

I guess that's the key. When you know it, and they're still stuck in an experience of lack, jealousy, envy, bullshit cattiness, 
When you Know what you are, and Own it,
I guess it'd make sense that those less secure would find reason to hate you for it, 
If only because they don't see that they're just as gorgeous, just as hilarious, just as intelligent, talented and gifted. 
Skinny, nah, they drink too much. Like playing victim, like working harder, not smarter. 
It seems like, once you take ownership of your body, your life, how you use it, 
It starts responding to you, your wishes, your will. 

I suppose I could hate others for their curves, 
I don't see the point in it though, I've got my own, and I'm quite fond of them. 

I walked into the party with my guard up. 
Easy explanation. 

Hard explanation.
Why? Why did I have my guard up? And was it me? Or just what I was picking up on?

It wasn't just with the cuntscicles. 
Guys too. 
Even those I considered my friends. 
Guard was up. Somewhere. Resistance. Somewhere.

Maybe it's okay to not like people. 
Not all of them, just the stupid ones. 

There sure are a whole lot of stupid people out there though,
Life's hard when you don't like anyone. 
It's a lot happier if you just love them anyway.
Not for their stupidity, 
That's temporary, surely.
Love them for their strengths and how they use them. 
Love them for their love, and how they express it. 
Learn to communicate in ways previously unexplored. 

Maybe I have been missing out on the whole hanging out with/identifying with my peer group thing....

Fuck that shit. 
My interests lie elsewhere, 
Groups are bullshit,
Individuals, however, are amazing.
Maybe thats the key, take the individual out of the group and allow them to get to know me. 

Or maybe, just quit fucking worrying about it, go take a bath, 
Party on, and those who need to will find me, vice versa 

In other news. 
I love my dog. I'm fairly positive he saves my life multiple times a day. 

I'm thinking Hank would benefit from another canine friend. 
I don't know what that looks like, 
Whether he starts playing with Cherry and Barry and their dogs, 
Or we acquire another dog to be Hank's companion à la Dharma&Greg
Or maybe one just shows up,
Or maybe we start going out and meeting people and their dogs and having playdates

Damn. This feels like parenting. Training. 
Double damn. I would make one helluva mother. 

It's interesting though, when you think about it.
Back in school, way back in school, I job shadowed a pediatrician. 
I learned a few things:
1. I no longer want to be a pediatrician
2. Patients that cannot speak are easy to work with
3. Parents of patients that cannot speak are a pain in the ass to work with

It's probably the same for vets. 

That really seems to be the biggest lesson to learn here. 
How to, willingness to, when to, to whom. 

Right now, I'm communicating with myself. 
It's going a little something like this:

Hands: I'm so good at typing. What else can we type?
Bottom brain: (idea)(idea)(idea)(idea)(tangent)(idea)(idea)(idea)(tangent)
Top brain: Guuurrrrg. I feel wobbly.
Neck: Agrees with ^ wobbles.
Ears: riiiiiiiiinnnnnnnngggggg beeeeezzzzzzzzeeeeeeeeeeeeeepppp zzzzzzziiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnnggggggg
Nose: Wear a mask next time you spray paint, dumbass. 
Eyes: I hope you've been practicing moving around in the dark, 'cause I'ma gonna shut for a prolonged period of time soon and if you're not laying down in bed at that moment, too bad. You have 4 minutes to comply.Thank you for taking your contacts out. 

And then there's Hank. 
Bless you Hank. I understand why you're exhausted. 
You had to put up with this all day. 

Oh! I forgot. 
I had a super excellent day today. 
Especially considering my sleeping schedule was off and my eating schedule was off, and it's the second day of my moon which is usually the worst ever but hasn't been painful lately at all, and I didn't do the housework I originally planned on doing, I still haven't received transcripts in the mail, my mom changed her mind about being enthused about me going back to school--or maybe it was the going to school in North Dakota--gosh she's so needy sometimes lol, and I have yet to hear back about the job I applied for earlier this week--and the idea of asking for one in person is presently intimidating...
Damn, when I write all that out, I don't feel as productive....
Well, shit.

There's always the upcoming today to sort and sieve. 

I did, however: 
Water my plants, twice. Acquired more spray paint primer and primed the fuck out of the swan and two large planters. Asked Matthew down at McLendons what kind of Jasmine we have here at the house, and he told me--apparently I quickly misplaced that information, because all I remember is that it's not "Star Jasmine," which I'm okay with because "Star Jasmine" smells like butt. I cleaned my father's espresso machine, acquired more coffee from him, visited with P&K whom I haven't seen in at least a couple years. They met Hank and thought he was a good addition. I tried out a new recipe. Introduced my mother to a "loaded corona," loaded with tequila; I've never understood why anyone would load a corona with bacardi lìmon. Spray painted one planter pink. Behaved as my normal, sparkly, emotionally volatile, entertaining self, and pretty much partied all day in one variety or another. 

That feels better. 

I've exceeded my four minutes....
I'm glad my eyes don't run my body, 
I'd probably end up sleeping a lot more, 
though apparently I sleep with my eyes open much of the time. 
How do you even begin to fix that habit?

Mon Oncle went to the farm, saw the work I put in, and said, "Wow. Beautiful. In town to have tooth checked till tuesday."
He's always been such a wordy walrus when it comes to expressing thanks/gratitude/emotion/relative humanness, I'm actually surprised that I got that sentiment. I guess that means he was impressed.  

Yup. Judge, judge, judge, nag, nag, nag, bitch, bitch, blah, blah, blah.

I laid out on the grass this evening as it was getting dark and watched the clouds turn to stars.
I don't remember the last time I did that.
I do remember moments that I've done that,
Just not the most recent.
Everyone should lay out and watch clouds, maybe not all the time, maybe not every day, maybe not even once a month,
But everyone should.
It makes the heart happy. 

Romantically Preoccupied, I am not

Maybe just a little, I am

Interesting dream, exploring a house, not mine
New family, big family, wealthy family, resides
3-4 Sisters,
3-4 Brothers,
All of whom, beautiful. 

We scuttled through rafters, over and under tree branches, sneaked through the open air of the house,
Exhilarated, lovely, freedom, fun

We played tag? Or something like it. 

I remember interacting with a brother, playing
I remember watching the older, wishing
I remember feeling peace, knowing
The time spent wishing, going
The time spent being, growing

It's interesting, it's not the first brothers dream I've had. 
There's the one with my cousins and the wolves
There's the one with the Larsens', beautiful freaking Larsen Brothers
There's the one with the giant mother tree whose root system took up a whole hillside, whose root system was the whole hillside

I'm wondering what this one is about, 
No, not wondering,
It's an evolution, that's all
And I am excited to see where I walk with this

I passed out at around five-thirty last night, I'm okay with that, even if it means waking up at one-thirty this morning

"Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling so it goes, some things are meant to be"
- My fortune cookie said so yesterday. (Elvis said so, previously)

All appointments went fabulously yesterday. I now have a clean bill of health, and the paperwork to prove it. 
Well, except for the HSV1 that I already knew about, and everyone else pretty much has anyway. 
Had a good conversation with Helen too. Much more enjoyable appointment than Friday. I like it when prayer works. 
No, I fucking love it when prayer works. This building of trust, faith, love, acceptance....really kind of badass, if you asked me. 

I was freaking out for no reason. No Hepatitis, no cancer, normal pap and pelvic, not preggo, no HIV or Syphilis, no HSV2, nor any of the others. 
PHEW. I'm glad I don't have to call anybody and say, ""
Considering how much time I've spent working in food service, working hand to hand with people at beauty school (okay, AND considering how promiscuous I've been in the past), I must say, my relief is palpable. 

I weighed myself today, noted that I weigh a 1.2 lbs more than normal, and said, "well sweet, I'm going to start mooning today"
And then I did. While out walking Hank. In downtown Woodinville. I, of course, had no FIAD's with me, so I made one out of toilet paper. I'm glad I read that article last week. Toilet paper tampons are much more effective than toilet paper pads. Good knowledge to have. 

Tangent: Who the FUCK came up with the word "tampon"? It sounds like a machine, or a tool you'd use in the coffee industry, or a small rodent. "Behold, the tampon in it's native habitat of the small leftover holes and warrens of larger rodents. Wily and resourceful, it prospers in the swamps of Argentina, only to be seen at the darkest of night. The natives call it, A Esponja. "
I much prefer my own term. Female Insertive Absorbant Device, or FIAD. It's mysterious, sleek, sounds like a certain popular (albeit relatively overrated) Italian car company. I'd much rather think of feminine products as something that transports you through a period (hahaha, or rather, through an experience), as opposed to something to conjures up imagery of rodents....
Maybe it's just me.

Considering how exhausted I am, after sleeping for 8 hours, knowing that I could probably easily sleep for another 5 (maybe 7), something tells me, perhaps, I had a stressful week. 
I am glad I have the rest of the week to calm it down, relax, snooze, clean it up, work with the dirt. 
I like the grounding effect gardening has on me. Working in the earth is like that. It has integrity, it's a good reminder that all things grow, live, thrive, and then return to the earth, to grow, live, thrive, or decompose and assist new life in growing, living, thriving, and so on and so forth. 

It's really hard for me to disagree with myself when I make so much sense. I treasure this moment, in this moment, as, simply, a moment, and let it go. 


How I felt when I woke up this morning:
lakwdjfhwernlnb liugwrrwqrweqlkjfbdskqwkejasghfliuhfq

How I feel now:


Be Still, and Listen
It just goes to show you, when you listen to someone you don't trust, you take zinc and throw up and have to call your doctor and pharmacist to figure out how to retake your meds for the day.

Yesterday I spent 4 hours cleaning out the blueberry patch at the Maple Valley farm. 
Roughly 400 square feet of blackberries, tall grass, and random weeds. 

By hand. 

I got hit by a mac truck last night. 
That's okay, it was worth it. 
Worth the bug bites, blackberry scratches, soreness today, restless night full of dreaming, 
It was totally worth it. 

It's an adventure day today. 
McLendons, Walgreens, huckleberries, yardwork.
College apps, believe it or not, I don't believe I've ever filled one of those out. 
Maybe I'll call the Angie at the Shell Station in Duvall, they're hiring. I like the idea of working at a service station, 
double bonus, there's a liquor store next door. 

I really, really, really, really, really, really want to go back to sleep. 
I think that would be okay. When body says, "ACK! Get some R&R before you break"
When coffee doesn't cut it. 
When you risk falling asleep on the hardwood floor when scratching the cat. 
It's usually a good idea to listen. 

In other news, I'm over a week late. No, not preggo, at least I don't think so. I've taken at least 3 tests since February, 
Because although he wore a condom (THANK GOD) apparently he has like 4 kids. The potent FUCKING ASSHOLE SICKO SADIST RAPIST FUCK. Anywho, they've all been negative. Though my cycle's been completely painless for the past couple months. Usually, I'm like clockwork, every full moon within a few days or so, then again, I've spent a lot of time with the moon over the past year, sleeping outside, living by the light of, paying attention to its cycles. Considering how close the moon was last week, I'm a little confused. Both meds I'm on apparently have side effects that can cause menstrual disturbances. Could just be stress? I have been losing weight, even though I've been eating more on average than I have in the past couple years (again, meds? I think). I have been building more muscle mass. So maybe I just don't have a high enough body fat percentage. Or it's cancer. Or menopause. Or I'm not hanging out with enough women of childbearing age. Or, I haven't been hanging out with the moon enough. Or, I'm pregnant.

Am I going to buy (another) test today, damn right. 
Is it going to be negative. Damn skippy. 
Nice, body. Knock it off, would ya? 

Chances are, as soon as I pee on that stupid stick thing, it'll start, and I'll laugh
And say, "Oh, Uterus, You sure got me good this time"
One of these days I'm just going to dig it out with a grapefruit spoon.
Then we'll see who's laughing.

Following the Leader
I have a surplus of planters. 
Luckily, I have some plants that are looking for new homes. 
I will have enough soil. I have enough soil. They're already planted. Om.

Started reading ACIM again recently and it feels really really really good. 
It's interesting how sometimes you just need a few years to process an experience. 
It took a year to read, a year of daily meditation. A year of constant vigilance. And then three years to recognize that the mess I thought was my life, wasn't a mess at all. 


I've been rocking a side ponytail lately. I like how it feels when it tickles my face. 

It's a beautiful day. I've got a string from my heart pulling me. 
Let's see where it takes me today.

Revised Idea

So, as I went out scouring the yard and neighborhood for flowers, I had an epiphany. Okay, I had multiple epiphanies.

A) It felt really good collecting flowers for my mom. 
B) The basket got really heavy, and it made me curious just how many times my mother had the same thought while carrying me. 
Granted, a month and a half early, she didn't carry me as long as either my brother or sister. But it seems, there was no question about letting go of her burden. It's so easy to put down a basket of flowers. I can't imagine how difficult it would be to let go of a child. 
It's interesting how thoughts tangent, how they develop, how minds change. Shift intention to understanding, and all the bullshit melts away. I'm glad I caved in my own way to this very strange holiday.
C) Weeds make the prettiest bouquets. And lilacs. Lilacs do too.

After returning to the house, the bro asked me if he could help arrange the flowers. It made me smile a lot. 
And then I made a breakfast of Peasant Benedict, aka. charred vegetables (in this case, asparagus marinated in balsamic, olive oil, salt&pepper), bread, fried eggs, and of course, homemade hollandaise. I'm pretty sure that took care of my caloric requirements for the day. Although, I'm pretty sure I just burned all that off painting my toenails in the treehouse. They're purple. The name of the polish is "awakening." It seemed fitting for today. 

I really like that every shower I take, is the best shower ever. Even sponge baths, even just washing my hands or feet. Baths. Jumping in a lake or creek. I really like to bathe. I think it's because I do it more rarely than I used to. Ditto with washing my hair. 
Not ditto with brushing my teeth. 

Sun days are ripe for philosophy....
I know I've said this before, but thank goodness for the gaucho's and the yerba maté.
The doc told me last week, "one drink/day"
I interpreted that to mean, "I need to average out all the days since the beginning of the year that I haven't consumed alcohol with all the days that I have, carry the three, minus eight, multiply but the denominator...and you've got....."

Two is too many for me. The nine I consumed on Friday was probably too many for me. 
Just maybe....
I know this because my lower GI is complaining. It says, "Bitch."

I've said this before. But quitting smoking is one of my prerogatives. We'll call it no. 7, it follows after painting my toenails pink, and pruning the blueberry bushes down at the farm, as well as a variety of other really important things I must do today.

Um. Happy Mother's Day. 
This is really going to throw a wrench in my plan. 
I don't understand holidays. 

Mother went on and on and on yesterday about what she's walking through with her own father and mother. 
Was getting really upset by how she was interpreting her fathers religious beliefs. 
Talkin' about how, "Our God is a jealous God...blah blah....Dad's talking' about worshiping St. Peter, the Pope, etc....blah blah blasphemy, blah blah."
I say, "Worship? Really....He used THAT word?"
Mom, " he used a word that's really close to meaning the same thing..."
I say, "Think it's possible you've just misinterpreted what he was trying to share with you? Think it's possible that maybe he should have the freedom to believe whatever he wants just as you have the freedom to believe whatever you want?"
Mom, ".........*crickets*......."
It all worked out great. I convinced her to eat lunch. Hard to get someone to eat when they're being all emotional and shit and telling themselves that they can't, just can't eat right now. 
I understand that.
But when they're saying, "Mmmm, that smells good" and "Ooohhh, that looks tasty" 
To everything that you're making, eating
And then you manage to get them to take a bite of your food
You're pretty much at least 76% there. 
Everyone needs a mom sometimes. 
Sometimes, it's your own mom. 

That was a tangent. I haven't taken my meds yet this morning. 
That's okay.
Was trying to go the direction of talking about 
How so many people revere/worship/value illusions, 
whether they be items (tv, computer, that which you face and praise for the majority of the day, so to speak)
whether they be people, people, just like me and you, no better, no worse
whether they be fucking holidays that are totally irrelevant anyway. 

But it's interesting, 
We condemn others based on their believes, what they value, what they hold dear, what they worship
And then wake up the next morning wanting others to treat us in the same way, 
Value us, Hold us dear, Revere us simply because we made choices, choices that we continue to affirm and believe and defend as being right....just like everybody else

I don't think mother's day should have anything to do with gifting, praising, appreciating, showing gratitude towards a person, just a person. Cause people, every single person out there, is just as special as every single other person out there. 
We don't have a Bum's Day Holiday where we give thanks for the inspiration we gain from homeless people to not quit our jobs, or take better care of our kids, or give thanks for helping us clean the change out of the bottoms of our purses as we drive/walk by.

I just don't understand why people insist, why society insists, why the media insists 
that there's value in material gifts, physical gifts, even spoken word/compliments/appreciation--because all of those are gifts as well. 

A true gift changes your life forever. 
An illusory gift just changes the space you occupy for a while.

As much as I love flowers and bubble bath, 
I sincerely hope for homemade glitter confetti, and a mud pie on my best serving platter
I dream of handpicked bouquets, puppet shows, ridiculous prose
And I hope, that when these are done, as I bear witness and give thanks, 
That it is not myself I am thanking. That it is not my children/family/loved ones I thank for recognizing how hard/blessed/lovely my life is. 
I hope, I have the wherewithal to
Thank the earth for providing such and excellent playground, 
That I thank the sky, for providing a backdrop for these adventures, 
That I thank, that which is undefined, the spark, 
(Oh how I love the spark)
Because the spark is what gives life, thanking the spark, building the fire, 
And beautiful the fire be
For it burns to the ground all that is meaningless for me, 
Skipping over the beauty and beasts
Moving my blood and warming my feet
Leaving an ash so rich in the mud
That all that will grow
Are seeds planted with love.

The seed doesn't fall far from the...
I may be contradicting everything I just wrote, 
But perhaps, what I am most thankful, 
The best gift the mother tree could ever give, 
Was the gift she gave, when she planted me.

It's been a week now since I found out about Jenna. I still don't know how she did it. I still don't know why she did it. I'm starting to feel slightly less manic now. Trauma is an interesting thing. It hits you from the side sometimes. Comes at you from unexpected places. The stress hides until you're ready to look at it. If I could say something to her, I'd say::

Um. Well that was convoluted choice you just made there, chickadee. 
How could you leave your daughter, your friends, your family like that. 
I mean, I've been there, but I was there when I had nothing. 
How could you have done that when you had everything?
I'm totally judging, and I'm sorry. But it hurts to look at. Hurts to think about. Hurts to recognize the sheer amount of pain you must have been experiencing. Hurts because it was so unnecessary and SO UNFAIR. Why didn't you get help? Why didn't people see what was happening? Why didn't you let them help you? Where did your trust go?
I don't blame you. I don't blame your life, your choices, your family, your friends. 
I don't even blame you for taking that choice, that ending, into your own hands. 
We all experience little deaths in our lives. 
Walking away from unhealthy relationships, letting go of our own unhealthy relationship with ourselves, quitting a job, letting go of a habit, deciding to throw away trash when you see it where it's not supposed to be, stubbing a toe.
I guess some people just really know how to go big or go home. 

Jenna, it hurt my feelings back in the mid 1990's when you stopped wanting to hang out with the neighbor girls around the corner. 
It's starting to occur to me, that maybe, just maybe, it hurt your feelings as well, that the neighbor girls around the corner didn't want to come over and play anymore. If I had the opportunity, I would hold your hand.
Remind you that there's something else out there, there's something else inside of you, and that something is worth everything.

May you be an angel in your daughter's life.
May you learn from where this path lead you,
the forks you took, how you responded when you hit a swamp, or a cliff.
I hope you know, that if not from everyone that knew you, met you, saw you, than at least from this one right here,
You will be missed.
Bless your heart. May you know peace at last.  

Damnit. I was just talking the other day about how I have this problem with thinking that I know it all. 

I don't know anything for sure, really, but I sure do love sharing me some ideas. 

Wuv, tewoo wuv
I asked for the good, bad and ugly at the dentist this morning.
The ugly, they used the words "periodontal scaling," and my insurance only covers a cleaning and one procedure a year.
The bad, I still have the same two cavities that needed to get filled last time I went to the dentist back in 2004. I have to bump up my flossing regime.
The good, I left the dentist ecstatic, excited to come back, and with a big ol' smile on my face, and that's never happened before. 

Strange experience today, or rather, some interesting revelations. 

It won't do for me to walk away from this. It really should be his own decision. And yet, I keep noticing myself becoming more and more passive aggressive. He doesn't bug me. He doesn't piss me off. There's no challenge. There's no passion, period. Just a whole lot of need, a whole lot of feeding, and though I'm learning how to communicate better because he makes it so easy for me to call him on bullshit--he's kinda full of it--it doesn't feel good being around someone that's constantly lying to themselves. It's kind of a drain, really. 

Yes, I'm aware that all of this could be my own shit projected so it's easier to look at. 
I know I've been that person in many relationships, needy, vampirical, lacking in confidence, believing I could "make" someone happy doing for them what I thought the wanted, as opposed to being myself, period. Being with someone who is happy with themselves, I am happy with myself, and we are thusly happy together. And yes, happiness is relative, it's unrealistic to believe a life is a life without trials, without learning experiences, without mistakes. But when, as individuals, there's that strong foundation of self love and worth, and that's what carries you forward, and you find someone else who is driven by the same fuel. 
Well, that just seems a bit like magic. And of course, yes, I believe in magic. 

ACIM flashback:
Selfishness and arrogance aren't at all what they seem to be commonly defined as. 
It is selfish to hold back, forget your heart and overanalyze every step, choice, decision, plan.
It is anything but selfish to do. Do something. Do anything. And own the choice, even if it seems like, feels like, if everyone in the whole wide world calls you a selfish sonovabitch for raising that baby dragon that just took out the capitol, if your heart is at the root of that choice, that intention, chances are that's going to be one helluva beautiful flower that grows out of those ashes. 
It is arrogance, nothing more, to do something for another without the understanding that what you do for them, you are doing for yourself as well. If there's no willingness to help yourself in the same way, then chances are, you're not being helpful at all, you're just in the way. Same goes for acting out of anger, fear of lack or loss, denial of what you really feel, where you really are emotionally, physically, mentally. You do what you defend against. Tricky, yeah. Cause if you've dropped the defenses, there's nothing to hide, and if there's nothing to hide, then everyone can see your secret stash of memories, guilt trip memento's, walk of shame red carpets. And yeah, that's kinda scary...but wouldn't you rather it be your own choice to share such things openly, be able to be candid about where you've been, what you've walked through, learn to laugh, learn to learn, correct future mistakes by being more present to the life that you have now? When you defend, you're hiding something, treasuring it over the love that is right there waiting behind door number "?," deciding that what ever pain, anger, hatred, fear, pride, etc. holds more value than love....
And that's just silliness.

Sometimes I think ACIM was one of the most destructive choices I've ever made for myself. To follow the course, read the book, and be present to the effects. It wasn't that I did it incorrectly or correctly, I don't think there is such a thing when it comes to spiritual practices. I practiced it exactly how I needed to to be here, be what I am, see what I see, feel what I feel, and then give it away.
Sometimes when I see someone expressing curiosity about it, I want to warn them, like I was warned, "this is not a game"
The past couple years have been very confusing on some levels, sometimes time passes in strange ways, sometimes life has a certain shimmer, sometimes there are flashes of light, and auras show up around people. Sometimes I see things. Sometimes I hear voices. Sometimes I see memories that don't belong to me, sometimes I feel memories that don't belong to me. I know where there are pockets of stagnant energy in a space, home, room, person, item, noun. Sometimes existence is layered, feels like I'm spanning multiple realities all in the same space. Sometimes I tell myself it's all in my head. But I'm starting to wonder if it's all in my heart, in truth. 

I remember a girlfriend at beauty school. We broached the topic of different extra sensory abilities. She's a licensed massage therapist. She see's people magnetic fields, I understand that, I see them too. It's like a waviness around certain individuals, it varies, almost like a heat wave, sometimes it's darker, sometimes it's lighter, sometimes it's like a cloud hanging over their head, sometimes it covers their whole body, sometimes it can be seen but not felt, other times it's the other way around. Her mother used to tell her it was unholy. Told her to get rid of the gift through whatever means necessary, never use it, never tell anyone about it. Thought she was possessed, blah blah blah fear and propaganda based blah blah bullshit. I took a chance and said, "Yo, Kasi, If you are a gift from God (which she agreed we all are), then why the fuck would God give you such a gift, create such a gift in the creation of you, and then tell you not to use it, tell you not to be yourself, that some part of you is unholy. That just seems kind of messed up." She had a hard time arguing.
We did go onto discuss "rights/wrongs," ideas of how to navigate a world where this type of gift, this concept, this energy is becoming more and more present. Sight isn't to be used all the time with everybody. It can be incredibly invasive. But like all tools, if you don't know how to use them, you're going to get hurt. And you're never going to learn how to use them if you don't practice. 

Sometimes I wonder if it's always been present, and we, as a species are just starting to figure it out. 
Evolution, baby. For the win.

Othertimes I feel delusional, but that's usually only after sharing a space with people that lack imagination, freedom, a strength in their own belief system, a code by which to live their life.
And, really, when I look at it that way, when I see how many people are trapped by their own resistance, denial, and fears,
I'm pretty sure I'm one of the sanest people I know.  

love, inspiration, art and other drugs.
I've been thinking about hanging out with Tuesday on Tuesday. 
What a beautiful spirit this girl has. 
I experienced moderate Tuesday envy until I realized that my spirit is equally as beautiful,
My talents are equally varied,
And maybe it was that recognition that "Oh! A friend! A friend on the Level! Sweet!"
That had my ego running for the cover of lack and jealousy. Lol. Silly ego. 

Tuesday has a friend. Her friend's name also begins with a "T"
I think it's Tanesha, though I can't say for certain at this moment. 
So I'll call her "T"
T was in a car accident a few years back leaving her paralyzed from the neck down. 
She's slowly recovered feeling in her neck, allowing her to taste her food, swallow
She's slowly recovered movement in her arms, rotator cuffs, hands,
Enough to be able to hold her own glass of water, use her pinky on a touch screen, 
Enough grip to be able to apply her own make up
And an attitude that brings tears to my eyes right now just thinking about it.
A person I've never met. Inspiring. 
She decided to go back to school, and sister's rocking it. 
Tuesday goes over and helps her do her homework, 
"Okay, parenthesis, three, plus, x, parenthesis"
It must be so frustrating not to be able to write, having a body treacherous in many ways, and yet, so strong in more ways than it could ever be considered weak. 
I want to acquire a bunch of sidewalk chalk for her. The big sticks. Maybe some charcoal. Again, big sticks. 
She used to be an artist, the artist is present still. I can see it, charcoal and bright colors on cardboard, first one a bit rocky, then progressively getting more and more and more stable. A whole healing journey in a medium so temporary it can wash off in water. 
A reminder that "this too shall pass," the pain, the frustration, the anger, watching is turn more and more and more to hope, freedom, and self love. 
I have a vivid imagination when it comes to healing. 
It'll be nice when I have the balls to act on it. 

James' mom was in a car accident at the beginning of the year. She too is paralyzed from the neck down. Healing quick, though the trauma was great. I hope James heals too. And his sister. And his brother. And his whole family. I hope it brings them together even more so than anything else they've walked through. I'm amazed at the attitude. I'm amazed at her ability to inject humor into the situation. What a fucking beautiful woman. 

A few years ago, during my yogi phase of doing yoga every single freaking day, 
the idea of developing a yoga to do with paraplegics, quadriplegics, amputee's, came to me and resonated with a pretty cool vibration. I dig. I still dig it. Back then, the idea was tainted with a fear that people would think the idea was stupid, that "they can't move, or it's not there, so why even bother perpetuating a delusion that it could get better" blah blah blah fear lack of acceptance of my own ideas and other such bullshit.
I'm now at a point of, "Hmm. I like this idea." 
First step, of course, would be returning to my own practice, investigating more types, taking meditation classes (even though my whole life feels like a meditation in action at times), and getting over my fear/shame/guilt/anger uncomfortability every time I encounter a person in a wheelchair, someone without a limb, someone that somewhere along the line I absorbed the idea that a lack of physical completeness equated a lack of completeness on a whole. When, really, I'm starting to think that maybe I've had it backwards the whole time. Everyone has a hole somewhere. Whether it be on a physical level, a mental level, emotional, spiritual, etc. It seems like even those who pose to be the most enlightened, they have holes too. They're still here, thus, they're not done learning, not in the least. 

Sometimes it's a struggle to remember, that I, too, have much to learn. 
The shift that makes me smile, 
Is a return of excitement over "What am I going to learn today?"



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