(still) healing

pressed up against the looking glass, i peer in wonder
"can i make the change?" 
courage feels like a lifetime ago as fear grips my being.  the refrain is the same - a little ditty about unworthiness that plays over and over again, like a broken record.  yet, i also hear the illusion for what it is - a simple shadow image from the fog that is currently clouding my vision.
it's not mine to own or a bag to carry, any longer.
tears slowly begin to descend, i raise my hand and wipe away the mirage.
gratitude beats in my heart.  a consistent pulse, it vibrates for this space, too.
a collective, human gathering place where pain, trauma and suffering reside.
a container, it allows me deep empathy & caring compassion. 
i can hold your hurt just as simply as i can hold your hand.

wounded warrior

My warrior is wounded.
I can't pretend otherwise.  I can't walk through this world only wielding images of strength and valor when there is also this cowardly, little voice within commanding that I "Run!"  "Hide."  "Cover your face."  "Back down."  No, don't.  You can't.
Humph.
My warrior is wounded.
He's forgotten how to show up and protect me and, as a result, I don't trust him any longer.
The funny thing is, I look around the world outside of me and I want to point my finger at this mistrust.
"Where does it begin, C?" J would ask me.
And, she's right - she's almost always right.  It begins with me.

This now is the perfect time to heal this energy.  
"Make a decision," comes a disembodied voice out of the ether.
"And, unflinchingly show up until the reality of your vision is made manifest." 
 
YES, I ACCEPT. 

Discipline, loyalty, purpose, mindfullness, adaptability, skillfulness, initiative, energy, effort, contribution, & POWER.
 

contradiction

He knows how to get my goat
(and he always goes after it, too.)
And as much as I desire to solely exist in some blissful state
of peace and harmony,
he, again, manages to elicit a "violent" response from me.
This time, raising my green, metallic water bottle towards him in
a menacing fashion, I notice myself and immediately respond, with a chuckle,
"So much for my non-violent ways!" ; )
I dunno... in life on planet Earth force seems to be intrinsically
connected to survival.  But, hey, maybe that's just me!

I can feel the judgment ~ both my own and how it affects my withering body as well as that of others.  It never feels good, yet it's not unbearable.  It just is - kinda like praise.  Equally available in too strong or too weak of doses - a potent medicine that can either be an addiction or a relief.  Like everything, balance seems to be the key.

And, I guess I've just arrived at this place where I enjoy the process, including
the contradiction as well as the discomfort.  I don't need to be liked and I don't need to be read.
I simply offer ~ my words here on the screen and my attention there in the moment.
I guess I've just finally decided to not dim my light any longer.  Although, ask me that tomorrow, and maybe you'll get a different response. 

Life is what we create.  Importance is relative.  We all live and we all die.  The question is: what do we do during the interim? 

GRATITUDE

THANK YOU.

I began this blog in 2007 as a tortured soul who was perpetuating her own self-imposed suffering.
It wasn't intentional - the trenches of avoidance and the moat of fear created a fortress of repressed e~motion around my heart.  My finally allowing LOVE in broke my castle open and so began my great undoing.... 

Initially, posting my writing here was a way of "proving" to myself (as well as others) that I did have something to show for my alternative graduate school journey.  Nonetheless, after two years of off and on random postings, my graduate school adviser had to continually advise me to "Write, just write, Cara," Laiwan would say.  (Thanks, L!)  In 2009, this was still a burdensome task - my heart was heavy, my mind a mess and my Spirit just beginning to rise. 

It was almost three summers ago that I graduated (after four tumultuous years - even though the program was designed to take 2.5 years!  As one of my peers shared, "It's the most expensive therapy you'll ever give yourself."  Thanks, Roxanne!), left my relationship with M (gracias, mi amigo), and committed to ME and my hero's journey.  (Thank you, Paolo Coelho, for the notion!) 

Three years, a lifetime ago and, now, I appreciate the space that this platform provides.  Most of all I appreciate the others who have shared how this blog, and my words, have reached them, have moved some thing inside of them, and have touched a human chord of empathy, compassion or forgiveness.  I am so grateful for YOU and for your inquiring eye.  Yes, we are simply reflections of each other AND there is something about your YOU, about your difference from me, your makeup, your biology, that makes this life worth living and, perhaps, this virtual meeting place worth keeping.   

Summer 2012 is almost here and so too my full embodiment.  Three years ago, I committed to the path of our highest good and I did so in some sacrifice.  I left behind two others who mean the world to me.  My intention and hope has always been to one day be reunited in intimate living space.  That day is almost here.  Until I fully own my Power...  may you too sink deeper into the peace that is you and the love that you are. 

BRAT

I don't wanna hold your hand.
I don't want to affirm that I need you.
I wanna say, "Fu$k You!"
(and your untouchable face).
I want to hold tight to my pain and sadness.
I don't wanna forgive.  I want to shove that mirror
away from my countenance and towards yours
and say, "UGLY!"
I don't want to bee the model.
I don't want to embody love and compassion.
I just want to hurt and allow these walls around my withering
heart to be re-built.  I don't want to let you in - you who keeps taking,
who thinks not to ask "what can I do for you?" I don't want to be
a teacher anymore.  I just want to crawl into the fake, black box
of "reality" and pretend that the pushing away is normal, that the fighting is okay
and that all of the unnecessary drama is simply par for course.
I'm tired of swimming upstream.  I'm exhausted from so much giving -
from refusing to gossip and talk ill; from always choosing to see the positive
even when the shadows are too dark to ignore.  I don't want to play with you any more.
And even as I type these words I know that I am lying.

The BEAUTY of this NOW

Last night, Carol Ann (aka my mother) and I were watching the finale of "Dancing with the Stars" when she said to me, "If I come back, I want to be a dancer or an ice skater in my next life."  With an air of confidence, I responded, "Oh, you'll be back.  And, I bet you'll be a dancer, too." 

As a 24-year-old seeker, I could be found up New Zealand mountain passes and within its abundant hut system, reading one of His Holiness, the Dalai Lama's, books.  At that time, I resisted a lot of his beliefs - specifically his ideas of how there are "lower" life forms in the path to Enlightenment.  "Pbst!" I chided, "how can a worm by less than a dog and a dog less than a human?"  Yet, as the days passed and those pesky sand flies kept biting at my soft flesh, I immediately recognized that my slapping them out of existence only served to seal their fate within the cycle of suffering. 

Last year, with the birth of the Prosperity Hive, came the full acceptance of my Self as a human being.  I finally allowed my self to just Bee - to make mistakes, to fall down, to unintentionally hurt & be hurt, to laugh uproariously and to cry unabashedly.  I heard myself saying that I wasn't interested in transcending my humanity as I had just learned how to fully allow myself my fragility as well as my strength.  But, then, came another conversation with my mother. 

Over dinner, she asked me my thoughts regarding death and reincarnation, so I shared my developing belief system - ideas that are part Kundalini and part Buddhist in nature.  Innocently, she inquired, "does that mean I will get to see my mommy and daddy again?"  It was her desire for reunification that struck me while the feeling of "I'm not coming back" arose from deep within.

I've been saying for weeks now that if I want to evolve, I have to heal and my own personal healing has been at the forefront this week.  After eight weeks, my snakebite looks great, so I finally went in to the dentist to deal with the breath of death that I've been walking around with for far too long now.  One root canal later and I am tending to the remnants of the bad infection that developed as a result of my avoidance.  Instead of rushing off to tend to others and their meetings and needs, I've been hearing myself say "No" this week as I've chosen to stay in and rest.

Of course, I needed some of my closest tribes members to reflect this lesson while within our dance community this past Sunday.  Knowing exactly who my people are and where I can find them is the ground below my feet as I continue to propel myself forward in this 2012.   While at Swami's park, Akaja had a Mayan prophecies book that can be used like an astrological reading.  She helped me to identify my sign.

"Tzi, for law & authority; it's growth lay in eliminating authoritarianism and drastic actions as well as CULTIVATING LOVE.  This energy is related to writing, particularly sacred writing.  It is the symbol of great scribes.  Famous people who were born under this sign are: Bob Marley, Nelson Mandela, Mahatma Gandhi, Adolf Hitler (demonstrating the range of power, toward either the light or the dark), and JK Rowling.  Those born under this sign tend to believe they are God (I was recently accused of a God complex so this made me chortle) and in their divine purpose." 

So, I CRY.
I cry because my heart knows that I've been given all of this in this lifetime now so that I may EVOLVE.  I cry because I'm not coming back and I won't experience these dances with our energies again.  I cry because I don't know if my seed will procreate as human in this lifetime.  I cry because as full and amazing as my life is - filled with so many beautiful, lovely souls - my belonging to everyone means that I belong to no one.  Paradox hurts.  I cry because my immortality is sealed even as I am given wings to lift off from this planet.  I cry because letting go is hard, even as it is LOVE.  I cry because I can, it's what being human affords me - an opportunity to FEEL all of this. 

UGLY

I used to be ugly.
I wasn't born that way.  In fact, I've had a sense of my essence ever since I was
a little girl.  Drawn to music and harmony, I intuitively knew that it was a metaphor
for the LOVE that burned deep inside of me - below all of the walls of defenses that time was slowly beginning to erect around my heart and body.
At around 15 years old, when the focus on my external, feminine makeup became too extreme, I began teetering in the direction of painful ugliness.  I became a monster.
I focused too much on how I appeared and on how much male attention I received.  I spent too much time planning outfits, planning moments, planning the future.
Dipping overboard into a woeful penchant of "me me me'ism," all that mattered was how I looked, who looked at me and how they looked at me.  As a result, my own sister didn't want me in her wedding.
Ouch.  That hurt.


Now, I am surrounded by ugly people who think they are beautiful.  Suffering from the same selfishness that I once demonstrated, these others think only of themselves as they move through the world.  Sadly confused, they've forgotten how to give as they wrongly think that attention from the opposite sex means something.  (It doesn't.)  These people don't make for good friends.  Still, I forgive them for their trespasses (because I forgive myself for once having done the same) and I also choose to still love them.  However, I've finally learned that COMPASSION begins with ME.  So, I am learning how to LOVE from a distance.  

I am also surrounded by beautiful people who think they are ugly.  Sadly mistaken, they think that because they have soft curves or flawed skin that they are somehow "less than."  Even though these others show up powerfully in the world by giving back to our community, by educating youth and more, they too still fall victim to the brainwashing of an imbalanced society that values force and material resources over gentle relating. 

As women, "BEAUTY" was stolen from us and sold back in the guise of external products.  "Your personality IS your makeup," is how one teen girl said it this past weekend.  When I was her age, I traded in my personality and I lost too many years of real intimacy as a result.  

Separated from our deep sense of knowing, we willingly hand over our power every time we fall into "the monster" trap.  "Ideal Feminine Beauty," as we all know, has little to do with outer appearance.  TRUE BEAUTY is a deep regard for all living things, including this planet.  It is a sweet caring and a nurturing nudge.  It is our birthright.  Join me in reclaiming it!!!!

DEFEAT

It sucks to lose.
However, perhaps losing doesn't need to bee as final as I initially imagined.
I thought I was going in to lose a tooth today, but my dear dentist has convinced
me that the cheapest way out isn't always the most sustainable.  "Your back molar has a matching
top tooth," he told me.  In other words, he implied, THEY NEED EACH OTHER.
So, I am finally surrendering to all of the consequences for my lack of action.
I am finally putting my hands up and giving up all of my avoidance - it doesn't seem to have done a damn, good thing for me anyways.

My defeat has been a deafening pitch over the past week.  I felt it most poignantly while at a teen girl's empowerment workshop on Saturday morning.  While there, the father of the program got up to speak about how he felt when he received the news that one of his two daughters had been killed in a bus accident while experiencing a year abroad in India.  He said that he had no words and that he felt powerless.  He said, "After all, dads are supposed to protect their daughters."  It was these words that struck a chord within me.  Tears wanted to pour forth, but I held them back.  I was too cowardly to authentically share my voice, my truth and my vulnerability with that room of 100+ young girls and women.

I don't know how to express this raging sadness inside of me that is a result of how my own personal father, in this lifetime, couldn't and didn't protect me, as well as a response to how the Father has allowed for the raping and desecrating of the FEMININE, my female, my dear sisters, our Mother Earth, for too long now.  

This weeping wound is a trigger just waiting to be pulled.  
It is a well of bottomless proportions.  
It is a pit of black sorrow.  
How do I give words to such ancestral pain?  
How do I speak that which is unfathomable?  
How do I reconcile this split that is within me?
I do not know.  
So, I failed miserably to really bee a role model.  I struck out by not demonstrating how our individual, and collective, tears are not a show of weakness or a pity party.  Rather, our strength lies in our vulnerability.  Maybe someday, I'll win.  Maybe, somehow, I will learn how to honestly show up...........
May it bee.
(and so it is.)

(the way of) Non-Violence

It's a path, certainly.
This now.
We're moving quickly, with currents equally pulling either towards self-realization, emotional growth and personal transformation or down into the pummeling somersaults of karmic tumbling - over and over again, our heads chasing our tails.
This now - 
it's a choice, you know?
(which do you choose?)

It's taken me 35 years to arrive here.
And that, too, has been quite a journey.
I wasn't just born into a violent society, I was raised experiencing
its stinging slap across my face, its welts and bruises,
it's hair pulling and mouth washing ways.  It's putdowns and shutups,
its aggression and force.   Suffice it to write, my learning how
to walk this path of non-violence has not been easy
and I am grateful for every moment of it.

The movement of the past week has been filled with palpable agitation ~
we are at a rubbing up against that, if we allow it to, can give birth to a whole new way.
What are we pushing for?
(what vision, for yourself and others, are you building toward?  see it in your mind's eye, now.)

Me? - I'm dancing my ass off for peace, love and harmony.

It may sound cliche, yet there's a beauty as well as a truth that I feel deep in my heart - one that resides in our hugging and kissing, in our soft surrender and vulnerable caresses, in our giving honest
voice to our natural discomforts as our loyal commitment for allowing ourselves to be human, while honoring that we are merely spiritual beings having a human experience, illuminates our way.

So, this week, even when I felt judged; even when I felt crooked fingers of manipulation and shame pointing in my direction; and even when I metaphorically felt, once again, slapped across my face, I breathed in and KNEW - my essence is LOVE.  And, none of this is "truth."  So, I dig deep and tap in to who I know myself to be in this world - a woman who plays so %^&*()# HUGE that she will not perpetuate violence in her actions, words or deeds towards an other.  (Not any longer, at least.)


Thank God for my dogs.  Sweet Pea offered another perspective yesterday as I walked her, and her brother, around their Clairemont neighborhood.  For way too long now, I've been "resourceful" with a broken leash.  During yesterday's walk, Sweet Pea got off her leash and went careening after a sweet, little kitty.  For fleeting moments, I found myself experiencing deep feelings of being moved off of my center - I felt anger.  I was so mad at Sweet Pea, yet I immediately knew that I could not blame her.  It was my fault for not having a sufficient tool for managing my dog.

As I dug below my anger, I felt sick to my stomach as well as a penetrating sadness for the fact that, because of my lack of action, that kitty could now be physically hurt.  And, I recognize how, when I don't own my power - when I do not step up to take care of business, when I create invisible barriers (such as financial ones), when I blame others, when I do not assert my boundaries and clarify my expectations, when I do not protect my innocent self or others - I am also creating a ripple effect of unintended dis-harmonious consequences.  

So, I'm still learning how to balance myself upon this new terrain.  And, it's still not easy - my tooth still hurts, I'm in the den of a bully and I don't own my Power, yet.  I'll let you know how it goes.

(write now/right now)

balahblablah
wawawawah
bababababa
yeyeyeye
hayahayayayay
this is my poem today.

GIFT

i let you
slip in,
like a thief
in the night you steal
away into my most secret
chambers, the darkest realms of my heart.  patiently
waiting there, you discover
some part of me, once lost now found, and i
remember
your reflection illuminates the shadows.
i bow deeply
to your essence and i honor
your presence.  A GIFT ~
the most sacred of all. 

BARE DOWN

We Give Birth to our Dreams and Ideas, too.

When I first moved into an apartment of my own as a nineteen-year-old college student, I remember feeling sadness over how - even after a first year spent living in the dorms - I didn't really have any friends.  Back then, I didn't know how to be a friend so I mainly spent my time in contemplative solitude. 

I've never minded being alone - truth be told, I quite like it.  I need a spaciousness of energy and time that allows for deep reflection and full Self-expression.  In fact, it has been my sinking deeper into both of these that has illuminated the past errors of my ways while teaching me how to embody that which my heart really sings for. 

Today, my life is a complete and total blessing.  I am surrounded by amazing, brilliant women, men, children and animals who are consistently reflecting my highest Self - which I believe is presence and love.  Our relating is the most gratifying human experience that I can taste - feeding and fueling my being, deeply.  After all, what is the flower of life without all of the pollinating, dancing and living together of the Bees who turn the landscape into sweetness and color into nourishment?  
It would just be a singular, lone stem lilting in a wafting breeze. 

So, we are in the collective throes of labor and though we are not exactly sure what the baby we are about to give birth to will look like, we trust that the brilliant love and positive intentions we have been pouring into all of our seeds will make manifest the most perfect and necessary creation.  What's more is that we embody how this is it - there is nothing more.  Our co-creating, our joyful tumbling over and around one another's frail humanity as well as huge divinity is it.  
There's nothing more.

SETBACK

5 1/2 weeks since the bite of the Cascabel was inflicted

(Others have curiously asked to see my bite wound.  I haven't shown in awhile because I need to keep the wound covered.  I chose to upload this photo, taken today, because you can't really see how "gross" my leg looks.  ; )  However, you can get a sense of what I mean when I say, "I have open flesh just hanging out...")

After four weeks of rapid healing, my rattlesnake bite wound became infected last week.  The "why?' of it lay in a few answers: I allowed for contact that was too close and, as my leg was continually brushed up against, I intuitively knew that the abrasion was not a good thing.  I also fell back into some emotional and professional patterning that simply does not feed my highest good.  The result was a fever, an aching tooth (also dead tissue), yellow pus, and a foul smelling odor.  (All this plus being on my cycle!)  It wasn't intentional, of course, and, as can be true to a past me, I tried to avoid the whole ordeal.  "Oh, if I just pretend it's okay, it will all go away," is how the thinking goes.  And, truth be told, the fat, 800 milligram, horse pill of Ibuprofen that I swallowed certainly did aid in some of my convenience seeking.  Thank God!

While attending a Ridvan celebration of the Ba'hai faith, the event's hostess, as well as friend of my mother, was laid up with a swollen and hurt lower leg of her own.  "Goddess, it's so apparent!"  I sang to my mother afterward.  "We're hurting!  And, we have been for far too long." 

As the world continues to turn, a few solutions keep arriving upon my doorstep.  The most pertinent word seems to be BALANCE.  Balancing my own self and my way forward through the world with less extreme leaps and more soft sinking into the next step, perhaps.  Also, balancing our collective selves with this eternal dance of the Divine Masculine and the Divine Feminine found within each of us by shifting our relationship with our Earth Mother as we honor the guidance of our Sky Father.  As J shared with me today, "The rattle has long been used by indigenous cultures for calling the Warrior back in."  

So, I'm remembering to move slower while allowing for the time and space to continue focusing on my own personal as well as our global transformation.  Another potent word that came up yesterday was EMPOWERMENT.  "What does it look, sound and feel like to bee a fully empowered human being brightly shining forth in this new era?" was the question.
LET US ALL EMBODY THE ANSWER.

  

essence

It has taken me a long time to arrive at this place of TRUSTing that
I KNOW WHO I AM.

I am LOVE.

When I know this, then everything else drops away.
There is only the desire to move in, around and from this place.
All I seek is authentic relating, - to feel your big, red heart beating
as mine simultaneously vibrates within my rib cage.  All I desire
is to keep peeling away the layers, the defenses that I piled and poured around my vulnerable, soft spots.  All I hope is that you too experience profound moments of connection, expression and presence.  Even when I feel the projections and/or judgments of other(s),
I tap in and know.  Even when the hurting wants to cover me back up and over
with its comfortable cushions of avoidance, I'll keep shrugging them away.
Even when my porous ego aims to protect itself, I'll continue sitting in my discomfort.
Maybee then, I'll bee ready to walk through the flickering flames of transformation. 

SAY~OW!

He's dead.
Taken his own life.
If anyone represented local San Diego -
"Oceanside in da' house!" - this man personified it.
And, I'm going to speak to what no one else is saying right now.
I'm going to share what I was just feeling, even as
San Diego news stations bombard my being with their over-the-top
fanfare and litany of too-late affections.
Before Carol Ann flipped on the television, I was just writing about
the masculine predicament and how, as Barry Logan told me,
"It's only acceptable for American men to show 2 feelings: fear and anger."
I recall my only two encounters with Junior, both taking place in the
very recent past.  Just last December, while dancing and enjoying a night of bar
revelry at a joint on the 101 in Leucadia, Junior was also present at the small establishment.
We were there, close to 20 of us, to celebrate a sweet sister who was headed off to India.  He was there, with a few others, to celebrate his Induction into the Hall of Fame and the retirement of his number.  And, I recall thinking, "Where are his friends?"  I remember how he felt entitled to place his hand on the side of one of my sister's bodies one-too-many times.  She removed his big, wide palm and glared at him with an inquisitive look.  He gave her his personal phone number in response.
Now, he's dead.
Four grown children left behind.
And, the news camera perched from a hovering helicopter along the Strand near the Oceanside pier,
shows people with their palms raised to the sky.  "Dear God," they cry.  "Why?"
And, I hear the news reporters talking about Spirituality and what it means to be committed to a higher purpose and how we can't take each other for granted or think that we know someone and that we should tell those we love that we love them now and I feel "Why wait?"  "Why wait 'till we're dead?  Why can't we honor each other now?"  What's more, "why can't we honor ourselves?"  AND ACCEPT THAT WHAT WE NEED, along with the warrior postures and the animal territoriality, is SWEET SURRENDER, AUTHENTIC HONESTY, AND HONEST VULNERABILITY.  WHAT WE ALL NEED TO REMEMBER IS HOW VITAL OUR SOFTNESS IS.  Without it, there is no life.
God bless Junior.
I just wish he didn't have to embody this lesson for all of us to learn it.

(Now, off to an appointment at a Community Health Clinic in Oceanside.)

MAY DAY!!!!!

mist falls, may springs,
my heart jumps at
opportunity
to run wild and bee free
to cry out and scream and say
yes this is it
drums beat, beltane calls
and a rattlesnake boils in the pot,
its skin laid out to tan and dry,
love
courses across this land, like the great river of time,
as i float and bob, ebb and weave, recede and submerge
in its currents, the wind gusting overhead while grandfather owl
hoots and hollers from the coastal desert brush,
with generosity of Spirit, the voluptuous priestess presides
over this ceremony, ushering forth a unifying vibration
it rings out over the undulating, lush hills as they spread
eastward from the 15, like a lovely lady's petticoat
gently pushed aside, we honor her fertility, of course
and we cherish his seed, his piercing consciousness,
striking purpose, the valiant effort of swimming upstream
against all that is all that would pull us back down into our
ordinary rhythm, into our illusions of separation, this one he sings like a king and moves
like a word that cannot usher forth from the deep pit of our collective psyche
that which is yet unknown and made to be manifest.
we await this crowning day,
of glory.