typically

i write for me
to sort through
sour
that my truth may flower
out from under the moody glower
of my composting past patterns.

i love hate this human experience,

the hot cold paradox. 

uncensored morning musings...

can i love you, exactly as you are?

am i up for the challenge to see just that far?

can i love you, scattered and grey,

can i love you, shattered this way?

how is this a reflection of me? 

this chaos i see surrounding me…

and the buddha said,

if you could see the beauty before me, you too would wish to come again, and again, and again

the voices inside are the choices we ride.

can i follow you? is it true that you can start anew? 

am i able too?

my hesitation in saying is a reflection of past

can i move beyond the song of what was last? 

…if you truly believed that your thoughts became your reality, would you let one single thought go by unchallenged? 

months since

dreams last night...
yesterday i thought of my cousins, of my aunt & uncle,
... and of what it would be like to connect with them again
i though, waking, visions of bringing them gifts.
and immediately wondered why i thought i needed to bring things for them to love me

in dreams my aunt chased me, saying "when he dies you get nothing!" with a vile energy;

yet, he, my grandfather, was there loving me.

i thought of their house, how her room was far from theirs, of the intrinsic human need for connection, to be close in sleep, and how ostracised i knew she was as a child and youth.

in dreams again, mother energy abscent, i sat with grandfather drinking water from a wine glass, the edge crumbled and i felt glass in my throat tickle. concern from gran energy,

aunty on the scene, the glass turned from tickle to shard, piercing my throat, bleeding in my tongue, a melevolant aunt looming over clouding my left view; i a sheild for grans and gramps.

uncle came in- i don't remember what he said. it was neither nice, helpful, nor kind.

awake. wondering.
wow.
why such dreams?

...with such clarity.

this is for me.
this writing is for me.
if you're reading,
thank you.
if your not,
no matter.
it is for me.

again sleepstate,
dream make,
hotpink wetsuit...
couldn't get to the surf
knew you were out there,
she said, the way we do if we don't know you,
it's okay.

these days

hurdling towards infinity

22 womben

i love you

we are not friends because we are so much more than friends. 

we are peers, colleagues and equals.

we are learning to be freely ourselves, 

in every moment.

we are learning to have faith that by doing and being what is best for our own selves in each moment, 

we are doing what is best for others. 

we are learning that as we do what is best for ourselves, 

we empower others to do what is best for them. 

we are learning to choose and use inclusive "spells" aka spelling aka 

words

that empower and unite. 

we are, and have been, in this together since before the day we first met in the physical.

please know that as we continue this work, 

my part of we 

will always be

carefully

doing the work of introspection

we will not always agree

we will fight

and 

we will constantly sit in the foundation of love, gratitude, and joy 

for this connection

is beyond human 

comprehension.

there is no such thing as "yours" and "mine" but only ours. 

as we shed the programing that creates defensiveness, hurt, and lack, 

there will be times where we forget the vastness and purpose of this connection. 

yet, the connection itself remains the same. 

beneath the waves we are always the water. 

may we sit quietly, share consciously, expand exponentially. 

i love you. 

and then i realized

you are the deepest reflection of my insecurities 

reflecting the harshest words of my inner critic,

my inner assailant

would be squasher of all my joy

because really, 

the friends i need are there

they show 

grow

and reveal themselves when i most need to know they are there with me.

and i am overjoyed to know, 

to have had you show, 

beautiful watersnakegoddess,

the fracture in my self

the break of inner health

disconnect to my full wealth. 

stealth was your bite, 

i watch the venom spread with delight

that this 

is 

a 

healing

plight

joyous for fractured energies to unite. 

#inwardisupward

and there you were again

i had said internally i would be
kind
calm
considerate.

i was none of these things
i was angry,

pride took over my pain
and left without sane.

there they were,
your cheeks full of neoprene,
bottom turning in front of me
... again.

you knew i was there,
yet didn't care.

my anger got the better of me,
the place between my shoulder blades,
where the flower grows,
shut tight, pinched off in pain.

i'm not at all proud of my actions,
not at all proud of my response to stimulus.

i sat, after hearing you say "it's just a wave, what's your problem,"
and
"i've watched you punk so many waves"

and fumed... that place in my back black

and you paddled over to the man who's respect i had hoped to earn.
i've seen him many times; he surfs well, is quiet and focused on the waves. not a social event for him.
your gestures i knew, as i watched you vent to him about me, my stupidity (because reacting as i did is and was stupid. like i said, i'm not proud).

and i realized that the reason i was angry was not because you dropped in blatant,
but that i had wanted to be your friend.
and now i don't even like you...

and that flower went from black and stuck to flowing and free,
i felt pride's hold let go of me,
i felt heart soften me

as i turned away, i remembered the only words i've heard him say,
words he said today: "that was a really good wave you caught."

ensitivities

dicovering another layer
dimension

of permiability
aka
clairsentiency

or orverlap
or


can we acknowledge,
observe
and separate
ourselves
our own focus

step into our own limb of the octopus
and stay
to see
to allow
to let be
other

aware,
yet drawing in
drawing in
drawing

in

receiving myself
again and again and again

giving "other" the opportunity to be

"homeostasis"

is it posssible to shift this?
to "lift" this

whys

why do i start with email?
is there a more "productive"

easier to be around those who are less concerned with "what others think"
or "how others will react,"

i saw a clothes line,
a meditation sin
to bridge the time
to infinate ryme

and heard the part that said
"no that's stupid"
and replied,
"but why?"


and then examining the need to have others around but not interact
to be allowed to do and be as the inner need
aware that you care
but present most only inside

clare sentient.
i am coming to know the sensations of others as "not mine"


constantly drawing my awareness back into the physical framework of my being

a deeper description of:
awareness inward
is
can be "said"
by words the head

to be "my" energy
my currency
flowing freely in
not holding gaze of "outter" anything

a bubble?

when the "thoughts" escape into "external" landscape
i breathe them back in.

in joy i discover
the truth for all to uncover
but
my way
is not "the" way

simply a way
dis-un-re-coverd

thru dance and play = human experience

i P L A Y