November 13th, 2008

I asked Mykael again yesterday if I could kiss Hugh when I saw him today for yoga.  Juvenile?  Yes… Powerless?  Sure.  In Desire with a capital D?  Absolutely. (with a capital A)  When I posed the wiggly, wormy question, I anticipated awkwardness and closure.  When it came, when Mykael offered his stance, “I don’t have an answer for you right now,” it was indeed delivered with disconnection and a stale, hollow air of dissatisfaction.  I was NOT satisfied in the least.  “I” as played by the spoiled little five year old in me, whose mother never gave her a taste of what it is to hear the word, “no”.  I replied with a flippant, attitude infested, more teenage reply.  Mykael snapped like a mouse trap.  No, not quite that dramatic.  More like an old, wise tortoise.  At first, I thought, “Fine, who cares, I can totally play the bitchy, childish, tit for tat game.”  But that got boring and unsatisfying after about four minutes, and I invited him to connect with me and get clear.

In that space, he was able to articulate his feelings beyond what he had had conscious access to, up until that very moment!  Though it took me a while to catch up and realize this, once I did, his perspective was actually quite revelatory.  He asked me what it would serve, kissing Hugh.  How would it impact him, Hugh’s Missus, even Hugh.  He reflected to me that I am very powerful in my seduction, that my radiance weakens men, even Hugh.  He used the example of Maha, as well.  As he was sharing this with me, my ears perked up,  “REALLY?!?!”  My face did one of those blasted smiles that cuts in, takes over, without my control or agreement, displays my raw delight, right on my sleeve~ a place that feels too embarrasingly vulnerable for me sometimes.

So there I was, accosted by my own smile.  And he affirmed, that yes, indeed, I AM that sexy, seductive, powerful… and potentially dangerous.  What would a kiss be in service of?  ME… and THEN what?  And then what, indeed.  I sat with the aftermath of the conversation for a few golden moments, and as I turned it about, rolled it around my eager, sensitive palate, I recognized that it was a pretty big deal that I was able to actually HEAR Mykael.  In the past, I have been so attached to getting my way, a communication like that NEVER would have been able to make its way much past three feet in front of my thick, stuffy skull.  What was different?  Well, for one thing, Mykael was different.  He didn’t make his response about HIM.  It didn’t come from a place of his own insecurities, fears or shallow self interest.  (Believe me, he has PLENTY of all three of those things.  And I’ve met the sniveling little boy-man who speaks from those places enough times to smell Him from a hand full of galaxies away.)   As the wisdom settled to the bottom of my being for continued digestion and integration, I acknowledged to him that he had gotten thru to me.  He told me that he had been surprised to realize that I was not aware of my feminine power.  New wires continued to connect inside me.

As I’ve continued to feel into this topic since then, I recognize that I have held on to the awkward, ugly duckling self that I was in high school~ cursed with an infestation of devastating and painful acne, a “victim” of violent incongruity between my inner and outer world, sexually clueless, eager, clumsy, full of shame “and the list goes on, a day dream long”, as the galactically renowned poet, Dawn Athena Grace Kourage so eloquently and accurately, once stated.  Beyond that, my personal FAVORITE cross to bear is my very own mother’s relationship to her sex.  Actually, her lack of relationship to her sex would be a much more accurate way to state it.

What did I learn from my mother about being a woman?  Well, I know that I have had a more than occasional recurring feeling of dire discomfort, awkwardness and shame as a result of being in, feeling my body.  Embarrassment and shame.  Clumsy.  Like “don’t you DARE ask me to DANCE, or in any way express the luminous divine feminine thru my body right now, or I will actually die!”  Which is odd, coming from me, who’s honest to goodness essence IS that radiance.  Talk about a schizophrenic disconnect!   What a stellar awakening!   What an absolutely powerful invitation to let go, to invoke healing of my very own blood.  I want to talk about this more.  I want to book mark this place, so that I can come back and explore all that I feel I have inherited from my mother.  As I round the corner, head into my Saturn-bloody-return, this is massive time of letting go.  Shedding former skins, releasing my parents’ obsolete ways, unconscious social conditioning, blind reactions to old wounds.  It is a time for me to recognize, refine, claim the truth of who I am.  Athena.  Athena is…

What could be available as I move into a gracious ownership of my feminine power and influence?  More than I can yet recognize… I imagine this sacred shedding and becoming will be a sideways, back door route to all the amazing realms and experiences I am destined to dance in.  Will my deeper recognition of myself impact my leadership?  My confidence?  My teaching of yoga, writing or anything else I am called to offer?  Even just the moment to moment way that I engage with others… Yes, yes and YES!  What about my willingness to have all that I desire?  Ahhh, Desire.

Let’s take a pit stop along this holy road to nowhere in particular that we are meandering down, for the base pleasure of exploration for her own sake.  Desire.   Fuck.  Forget it.  Too daunting.  Makes me want to edit my words, say the mother fucking RIGHT THING.  Uh-oh, here come the “mother fucks”.  Time to call in back up!:  “The ferocious, demonic, ironfisted ruler of the land of Say the Right Thing has accosted me, is currently holding me hostage and raping my innocent, helpless guts out.”  (That was a substitute for “mother fucking”… WOW… I’m starting to have my doubts about this gratuitous mother fuck business.   I might just be way too creatively brilliant to collapse into that shiny seduction of the queen of linguistic cop-outs…)

I wonder, though, what it would be like, to live my life courageously connected to, and in service of my Desires…  I hear Mister Devil’s Advocate interject that maybe I already AM.  Fuck.  This is boring.  I’m feeling way too much resistance to have any fun exploring that.  My words are getting more constipated by the second.  My mind is feeling like hardening concrete, and the thoughts are freezing their way into fossil candidates, who might be discovered in the abandoned rubble littering the groundlessness, long after the final destruction of the multiverse.

************************************************************************

Tell the story of the rock rolling down the seemingly endless mountain of life…

Once upon a time, there was an immense, jagged, unwieldy rock, named Athena.  Too, there was a seemingly endless mountain, called Life.  Athena the rock yearned to become so smooth, and so round.  So threw herself down Life’s ever so steep precipice, and began to clumsily roll.  She rolled and rolled and rolled down Life’s sometimes craggy scapes.  Over the jagged peaks of time, she began to become rounder and smoother and rounder and smoother.  And, too, smaller and smaller.  So she rolled.  Time passed, and Athena the rock continued to build momentum, and grow smoother and rounder and smaller.  After many revolutions of the earth around the sun, and the moon around the earth, she became so small and so round and SO smooth, that with an anticlimactic “poof”, she was entirely dissolved.  No longer did Athena the rock roll down the mountain called Life, longing to be perpetually rounder and smoother.  The End.

I came up with that story today, after yoga with Hugh, because he said we had to do something about my filthy mouth.  (I was still riding the “Fuck Pony”)  I took his comment seriously, and asked him if it was true.  Would I be a “better person” (I believe those were the words that I used) if I swore less, mounted that nasty equine with more discernment and restraint?  He hugged me, and said I was a great person.  But I persisted.  I really wanted to know.  Right now, I feel like such an eager student, stalking the holy refinement of my character.  I want to show up as a powerful leader.  Someone who will be listened to.  A weighty, substantial presence.  (Time out~ I just felt my mom.  So clearly.  She so clearly entered my space and said “hello”.  In that moment, I entirely tasted the truth as it exists beyond time and space.  There was no gap, no separation and no doubt.  She was inside me, and her presence rose up and broke like a wave on the shore of my awareness.   Wow.  Hi, Mom.  Time in…)  I told Hugh that it did not matter that I was already perfect, because I still strove to become even MORE perfect, and I knew I ALWAYS would.  That’s just my nature.  And I felt so right in that.  I don’t want to become more perfect because I am not already perfect and whole and all that significant mumbo jumbo… I simply want to become ever more refined, because that is my way.  And then, all at once, that story flooded me, as metaphor, and I recounted it to him with satisfaction that spread thru my invisible inner scapes, like the Cheshire cat’s wide, cocky grin.

My next topic, which I will merely book mark now, and really address tomorrow, is the epiphany that I was graced with around relationship, just a couple of hours ago.  It landed all at once, like an “of course”… I felt that there is a certain potency, ease, depth, to the relationship between Mykael and I.  A revelatory, profound (and profane) ISness.  And it is a GIFT.  I felt that our epic and highly nourishing relationship is a Means, not an End.  Think of a warrior.  A warrior shows up for battle with a sword, a shield, some bitchin’ armor.  Our relationship is a necessary tool an ally for each of us in fulfilling our respective (and collective) purposes in this incarnation.  Our relationship is the bow, from which we may launch our divine arrows (and eros).   From that perspective, I feel an invitation not to fester in the gritty details of the relationship, but to rest back, surrender into the relationship as a container, a power source for purpose, for Being with a capital B.  I feel the invitation to give thanks and treat it with reverence.  To use it as a bindu- a center point to gather into, before expanding out, as light, across the universe.  To be continued.

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