words are foreplay for the soul
February 10th, 2017

The Night I Died

It was late. I was trying to sleep. My heart beat faster. I couldn’t breathe. My heart wouldn’t stop pounding. Breath exercises didn’t help. I kept telling my heart to slow down, to stop pounding. Take a breath! Now! Do it!

I couldn’t.

I couldn’t will myself to breathe, to live. I needed help. My heart felt like it was leaping out of my chest.

I texted my beloved, in the next room. The text was garbled, a series of meaningless letters and symbols. rj3u92/, perhaps. Texting didn’t work.

I called to him. Surely he would hear me. I called and called. HELP, I said, as loud as I could. It sounded like hehhhhhhhh. I couldn’t talk. Calling to him didn’t work.

I don’t know how I did this, but I got up out of my bed and went to the wall between my bedroom and my beloved’s. I pounded on the wall as hard as I could, with the strength of a gnat. He heard me.

Call 911, my eyes said, between gasps. I told myself to breathe, even though I couldn’t.

When the ambulance came, everything would be all right. They would help me breathe again, instantly. My heart would stay in its chest. I would be okay.

The ambulance men came, with their shoes in our shoe-free house, right into my bedroom. I didn’t let myself care. I wanted to breathe again. I wanted to live.

They put an oxygen mask over my mouth and nose. I still couldn’t breathe. Why wasn’t this thing working?

The Emergency Room was like a movie. A blue-smocked nurse strode by our little cubicle from right to left, repeatedly, like a duck in a carnival shooting gallery.

I left my body and entered a land of bright golden light where loving people awaited me. I wanted to stay there forever. I felt at peace and completely at home.

I came back.

This is what I told my beloved:

We’ve had a good run, haven’t we? But it’s going to be way more fun here with you. We’ve been together a thousand years, and I choose to be here with you.

After awhile, we went home. I could breathe again and my heart had stopped pounding.


August 17th, 2012

Kahuna + Akua = a Grand Love Story

About a year ago, my soulmate and I made special love names for each other. We actually did research on this. We looked at sites filled with love nicknames. We looked at sites filled with names from other countries and other traditions. Finally we found the right names.

Akua = spirit, goddess.

Kahuna = wise man or shaman.

I think we are still claiming the full power of our names. But I look at my soulmate and I see Kahuna, even if he does not see it fully himself.

This is what happened. I got cancer. I thought it healed. It didn’t and came back. Far, far worse. Terminal. And my soulmate, my Kahuna, has determined to make this his grand story. I am his grand story, he says. He has been looking for one, wanting a grand story in his life, and here it is. Kahuna is loving me into life. Read the rest of this entry »

July 12th, 2012


It was about a year ago that the S-word was first used. Back then, it was under influence of a glass of red wine, or two glasses. I knew what was going on and let it unfold. Give it space. Let it breathe. If you are lucky, it will blossom. He needed time to feel that this amazing thing between us is real, that he didn’t just dream up the woman who loves him, and that he and I will be together in years to come, and more years, and more.

It’s hard to remember exactly how it felt a year ago, light-years now, because now is now. Today we sat with laptops, an entire room stretching between us. I wanted to touch him, feel his breath on my neck, taste his mouth. Instead, I looked at him. I looked love into him, as much as I could. He lets me love him this way, lets me love him with as much of me as I can.

This is what love is supposed to be.

I look at him and everything swells up inside, wanting to burst forth. I am overcome. Overjoyed. Abundantly blessed. No one has ever let me love them this much, has ever loved me this much. And every day there is more. Read the rest of this entry »

May 21st, 2012

Crystal ball

The things I saw and heard in my head just about 18 months ago have all come true except one.

That last foretold possibility may take years and years to see fully through. I am okay with that.

Last night there was an eclipse. It was cloudy and we couldn’t see anything, but the quality f the light changed. Later, Soulmate and I sat on his bed, wine glasses nearly empty, a DVD paused in mid-flight, and we talked about the eclipse.

I remember the last time this happened, I said. 1994. I was in Pittsburgh.

I was driving to my office and hurried when the light in the sky began to change. Everything was golden, strange. The air felt different. Expectant. When I got to the office, they were all outside. I stood transfixed by the shadows on the ground cast by the leaves of the tree above. Each leaf, a perfect crescent cutout. The light was so strange. We looked at one another like something truly real — for the first time, maybe — was happening. And then it was over. The leaf-shadows grew into wholeness again. Read the rest of this entry »

June 28th, 2011


Once there was a girl who learned not to trust. She was hurt by things — big scary dogs, loud people, being left in strange places that didn’t smell like home, people who tricked and lied — and learned to go deep inside. She thought that deep within, she could stay safe. The girl built walls and thought they would protect her, thick tall strong walls.

What she built instead was an entire world that wasn’t safe. An uncertain world lay beyond her walls. Staying small and deeply hidden, she forgot about her magical powers caught outside the walls she built. The girl felt so alone. She believed she would always be that alone, always need to stay small and deeply hidden.

The girl was wrong. One day she woke up and remembered about her magical powers, but they lay out of reach beyond her walls. In order to reach her magic, the girl had to do the unthinkable. The walls she had thought were protecting her had to come down. She had to let the world in. Read the rest of this entry »