Juxtapositioning

The waves crash around me, sucking me under. I cannot breathe. Water fills my eyes my ears my nose my mouth and I scream but there is no one there to hear, just the relentless surf, the pounding waves, taking me farther and farther from the safety of shore.

I long for a place to put my feet. A stone. A post. A step. My feet long for firm sand, but all I feel is ceaseless motion, spinning, vertigo. My heart runs red into a pool around me and my throat cries soundless gasping wails. Tears become rivers, oceans, becoming the endless waves that roll over me, crushing me, carrying me out into the current.

Dreams echo the unending uncertainty. There is no solace in sleep, no respite. Look inward, she says. Feel your heart beat. My heart bursts sixty times a minute, shaking me to my core, and I am sure that the sound echoes across vast mountains and galaxies.

Stand still. Wait. Listen.

I have been looking for a way back instead of a way forward. I look through the destiny book of awesome and its secrets stay locked within, remaining tightly shut within black walls and creamy pages, mocking me. Remember this? they hiss, When things were magical and all was possibility unfolding in front of you like a golden carpet? I look at the magic and want it so much, the beautiful song. I try to grasp it tightly to hold it to me, but it slides through my fingers.

Ahead. That is where I should be looking. But how do we know anything except what is behind us? I replay the tapes in my head: a sensual kiss in the rain, a look of love, feeling enveloped and held by a warm heart, loving an amazing man. I see myself from far away, not feeling it, not remembering it fully, thinking that if only I could climb back into that moment all would be sparkly and possible again. Read the rest of this entry »

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 the mossy gardens, curved stone steps, panoramic front porches, and 2nd floor lake views while imagining what person might occupy such magic. Feeling into what I need to become to create all that I seek.

Five days. Staying in the present, breathing it all in, as best I can. Five.

Maybe six.

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 opened up into the underworld.

Resisting does not work.

I’ve decided to embrace my temporary surroundings instead. To be open to what is. To throw wide open my heart to this harsh land and gather in what it offers me. I am as big as the mountains. Wide as the bright sky. Wild as the cry of coyote. I have four days left. Something good will happen.

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 the beginnings are. What will be created as a result.

Scary, a little. Choose well! Use all your senses, all your inner gifts. And choose from that place, a place of deep dark leafmold, spongy humus, a perfect growing medium. Choose from roots sunk deep underground, ancient gnarled arms twisting down into the earth, soaking up centuries of possibility. Choose from lightness, from the breathy floaty spring gusts that sends dandelion silk wafting up, up, up. Choose from the slow movement of the stone people, who see time as an eyeblink and who breathe primordial mist through granite pores.

I already know much of what I wish to set into creation this week. It will change everything. It’s time. I have been setting the foundation for it for a long time now. Moving into a new reality. Breathing it all in now.

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 input input input input input magic input input input input input input input input input input input input input input input input magic input input input input input input input input input input magic process process process process process process process write write write write write write

Here’s another:

in in in in in out in in in in in in out out in in in in in in in in out in in out out out in in

The rhythm I seek lies deep within, a resonant ba dum ba dum ba dum ba dum, wild ancestral tones that echo within my cells. I am unwinding the near past, throwing off the shroud and drinking deep gulps of aliveness, becoming bigger and more fearsome with each wilding breath. This is where the rhythm lives, untouched by time constraints or propriety, peacefully co-existing with desire, community, and the inner workings of my cells. This rhythm bubbles up to the surface at times, escaping in joyful exuberance, then sinking down again as my fears and self-imposed structures take hold again.

One day I might release them. One day I might live within the drumbeat heart rhythm. One day I might simply BE, rather than impose my will on things. One day I might float with the rhythm.