• Love,  Magical

    Doorway

    “The breezes at dawn have secrets to tell you Don’t go back to sleep! You must ask for what you really want. Don’t go back to sleep! People are going back and forth across the doorsill where the two worlds touch, The door is round and open Don’t go back to sleep!” — Mawlana Jalal-al-Din Rumi I stand at the threshold of a doorway. It calls to me, this door into my future. If I stop looking I can see the starry brightness of the path just on the other side, the path that leads into the unfoldment of my destiny. If I cover my ears I can hear the…

  • My Brain On Crack

    Suck

    I’ve been struggling with this concept for days now. Years, actually, but I truly thought I had been-there-done-that enough already to move through/past/beyond it, but no. I suck. And yet I cannot yet embrace it. Embrace the suckage. I smile slightly, inwardly, as I write that. A wry smile. Rueful. It’s irony, after all, and I dig the ironic bizarreness that life is. Except when it’s about me, of course. Me? I have to be Perfect. No suckage for me. I could say “Thanks, Dad” for that one. A big part of my imprinting is in this concept. Let me see if I can explain it to you; it’s a…

  • Love,  Magical

    Destiny

    Girlfriend. I never thought past the age of 17 that I would think of wearing this label as having won something amazing and awesome, but there you go. That’s how life works. Sometimes you come back to where you have been (only it’s way way better now). I am totally loving being a little bit high school. And yes, I have a boyfriend and he rocks. We own one item jointly. Well, it’s technically mine — a small black hardcover Moleskine notebook, previously written-on pages ripped out to create an open space of possibility, written in with my burgundy and gold Mont Blanc rollerball pen — but we are creating…

  • Magical

    Five

    Five days. 120 hours. 7200 minutes. 432,000 seconds. Every single one sparkles. Bright diamonds dripping from rain-soaked skies. Plans have been made and intentions cast. Five days is enough to create worlds, to transform, to move into the shifting sands of a new perspective. Five days of delicious immersion, of experimentation, of creation, of trying on some What Comes Next. Five. Yes, it’s as if what I have been asking of the universe is appearing. Tangible. Touchable. Taking me places I never knew yet somehow always knew I wanted to go. Today my tangible-touchable and I walked through a neighborhood, moving into and through hypothetical someday worlds. I breathed in…

  • Rants

    Trick

    One of my biggest fears is that the world in my head will become too distanced from reality. That it’s a trick somehow. That I am making everything up, creating glittering but empty circus worlds from my copious imagination. That one day those worlds will implode, come crashing down on me, and that I’ll be left with nothing but the wide space inside my thoughts, a vast empty plain where the lonely wind blows night and day. Whoosh. In these times I look for someone to blame for the feeling of dread that comes from touching into the dead emptiness of my fear, but I know deep inside that I…

  • My Brain On Crack

    Closure

    I came to Tucson, the dry desertland, just over a week ago not really knowing why I was here save for the fact that I had bought an airline ticket and there were people expecting me. Gem and Mineral Show? Well, yes, and I walked endless rows of jewelry, beads, gemstones, minerals, fossils, and tchotchke, none of which I needed, though I do now have 20 extra pounds of stone people to bring home and share. But other than that? No idea why I was here. And I resisted being here. Cactus. Bah. Mostly I felt lack. My heart has been elsewhere. My thoughts have not been on the face…

  • Ho, Earthling!,  Love

    T + D

    Time and distance. I know a place in a forest where there is a gateway to other times and other places. Step through the invisible shimmering curtain and the tall trees feel 10,000 years older, transported suddenly across the globe to somewhen. I’ve been to this place several times. Each time it felt nearly the same. Magic. Time is a funny thing. I observed nearly two months ago (!) that time had slowed down, stretching into exquisitely endless golden hours. It hasn’t changed since then. Time still moves luxuriously. Languidly. Taking its own sweet time. Seconds drip into hours. Worlds are created in a breath. There is always enough, yet…

  • Magical

    Embracing

    What is it they say? If you don’t like how you feel, change the way you think. I’ve been in a dry desertland this week, far away from where and how I wanted to be. I have focused on the lack, the missing, of feeling out of sync with my surroundings. It felt wrong, this hard brown world. My eyes and heart are nourished so deeply by the soft greens and blues of my watery forested home. This dry bare place felt alien, foreign, spiky. My heart dried up and blew away with the tumbleweeds. I breathed dust. My brittle bones cracked and broke. I slid into an abyss that…

  • Magical

    Gestation

    According to the Mayan calendar, February 10 begins a new 260-day cycle. That’s nine lunar months, folks. Which means that it’s a time ripe for creation, since whatever is begun now will bear fruit at the end of October. I love marking time. Taking note. Taking stock. Tuning in. Setting intent. It feels very much to me that there is yet another beginning coming my way, perhaps not a beginning as such but a mindful intensifying. I am seeing and feeling this on many levels. I feel the future, or some potentials that haven’t happened yet that I interpret as the future, and it feels good to state outwardly what…

  • Magical

    Rhythm

    There is a sweet spot somewhere and I mean to find it. Not that I haven’t been enjoying the exquisite contrast between hyper-aliveness and the seeming vacuum created when not in that state, but somewhere along that spectrum is a place of balance. I suspect a rhythm may emerge, an expression of the juxtaposition of longing, desire and logistics, but it hasn’t happened yet. It may never, not to my complete satisfaction. Instead I [try to, sometimes grudgingly maybe] content myself with looking for the patterns of rhythm that are already evident. Yes, I have a thing for patterns. And noticing. Yay me. Here’s one: input input input input input…