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| Pasos y Palmas, Nov 2010 |
My subconscious has spoken to me ever since I was a little girl, offering up the potency of re-occurring dreams and the familiarity of déjà vu from the deep pits of my psyche on a regular basis. I like to believe that I'm a pretty good listener. Even though I struggle with maintaining a vigilant presence in my everyday, I frequently tune in to the pulsating rhythms of air currents, swooping birds, diving dolphins, the blood racing through my veins, my heart beating in my chest and stars falling in the sky, as a quick return trip to right here, right n-o-w, often. Where my weakness has always laid is in my ability to respond, quickly and with ease and grace, to what my intuitive perception is telling me, to what my body, mind and spirit knows as to be truth - my truth.
I've stayed too long in relationships, and sometimes even with organizations, that didn't serve me out of fear - fear of the unknown, fear of short term pain, fear of life. Thus, my refusal to listen has always caused myself, and in some instances others, pain and suffering. By no means do I regret this past of mine, for it has led me here and I am eternally grateful for this moment, n-o-w. Nonetheless, I recognize that the stress that I have both accrued, as well as reside within, has all been of my own doing. Damn. I have no one to point a finger at and place blame. It is always and ever me, even when I fool myself into judging otherwise.
