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Time Stretch
Time has slowed way down. I feel it stretching into ever-thinner spools of gossamer, strung this way and that across the myriad doorways of possibility that fill each second and every breath. Those breaths become entire new worlds, ripe with green juicy wonder and dripping with the clear cold freshness of the breath that comes after, and after that. Nineteen. I count backwards, eighteen, seventeen, sixteen, until I reach the touchstone that began my realization that I have become a Time Sorceress. And with every moment hanging in stillness, if I choose for it to be so, I have infinite time to use the power of deep desire to create…
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This Sums It Up Nicely
All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. ~Leo Tolstoy
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Contrast
My good friend describes his life as what exists between the swings of the pendulum. Moving from one extreme to the other. I can relate; years ago I described my life to someone as a sine wave moving along a graph. He was pretty horrified by the thought and said he preferred to live life in the middle, escaping the extremes. The thought of having no high-highs and low-lows horrified me. I love the extremes. I live within the swings of the pendulum. My life is contrast. Once I thought that living that way meant I had to allow myself to become immersed in the low-lows when they moved in…
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Flight Of The Red-Tailed Hawk
Not long ago I was driving through the gorgeous mountain pass just south of my home, on my way past tall lake-fed evergreens toward a bright beckoning newness that at the time remained indistinct. Suddenly my windshield view filled with wings, feathers, talons but before my foot could lift to slam on the brakes to avoid collision, the bird swooped upward and out of view. Brown and white. Red-tailed hawk. I knew at the time that I had received a visitation, but didn’t yet know the character of this new energy being given to me. I still only have an inkling. Kundalini. Noble vision. Perspective. Power. Hawk has been speaking…
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Resistance
I am an expert at recognizing my resistance. When it crawls wetly onto my lap from the briny deep of my soul I stare at it a moment and then hum tunelessly. I don’t hear you, I don’t see you, let me alone, leave me be. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror, Resistance perched pertly atop my head with a Cheshire grin. Fine. You win. I am writing. Not-writing. I feel Resistance in the act of Googling. Now I know that Ganesh is associated with the first chakra, called Muladhara, and that mula means “original, main,” and adhara means “foundation.” Great. I needed to know that. I…
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Oh Lord, Won’t You Buy Me A Mercedes Benz?
Hi people. It’s been a while. Let’s see, what have I been doing? 1. Not having cancer. All done now. Bye bye, cancer! Thanks for stopping. 2. Learning about relationship dynamics. We’re in the last throes now of the Venus retrograde, in fact it’s turning direct TODAY, which means we can throw off the chains that bind us, rise up and say Hallelujah! What this actually means is that this lengthy period, since early October, of intense introspection regarding relationships and patterns and whatnot, is moving away and we can all return to our regular programming, having been somewhat scathed in the meantime. I am feeling scathed, are you? Only…
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Keening
Her open mouth screams silent tears, gasping sobs tear her body into pieces that float above her, waiting to be sewn back together One thread drawing them tight and snug again, a sweater she can thrust her arms into gladly, wrapping warmth around her icy bare branches. Inside her, alien flesh pricks with tiny knives, razors opening sealed wounds that cry scaly tears and glue their eyes tight shut, denying their misery. Above her his spiky breath covers her hair, her ear, dripping down her neck with a snail’s undulation. She rises, tasting ashes in her mouth, and floats, now lost in a sea of misty grey, now lifted above…
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Summer
Feels like I’ve been away FOREVER. Yeah, yeah, I know it’s certain blog suicide to talk about one’s posting or lack thereof, but dude. I’ve been conspicuously absent from my writing gigs, especially this one. Time to limber up the (two) fingers I use for typing, kwim? And get some grey matter out there splat on the page. Summer has hit here in the chilly, damp, pacific Northwest. I should know, because I bought white jeans that don’t even cover my ankles. I know I’m the only person in the PNW who still wears sweaters and socks when it’s 70 degrees out (why aren’t I complaining about being “hot,” wearing…
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Past Blast
I’m holding a ring in my hand. Actually I’m not really holding it, since to type and hold simultaneously would be awkward, difficult, and likely result in larger than the usual number of typos. But I was holding it a minute ago. It’s large, gold and has a royal blue stone in the center. The ring isn’t mine, yet it’s been in my possession for more than 30 years. The ring belongs, in my opinion, to someone else. It was given to me once as a symbol. That symbol connected to things. Promises. But life got blacker and I fell down a rabbit hole and drank a potion making me…
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Hi, I Have A Blog
Well no, I haven’t been kidnapped by aliens who sucked out my brains like Paleo man sucked the marrow from bones. Why do you ask? I’ve been BIZZY. RULLY RULLY BIZZY. With cancer and stuff. Doctors who cut things and then cut things some more. With discovering that despite the seeming accuracy and convincing confidence of a surly fictitious television doctor, Vicodin is not the strongest painkiller money can buy or that people will let you have and still walk around all legal-like and stuff (though I am cautioned not to drive cars or operate heavy machinery). With finding out that FEET are the foundation of everything. It all comes…