Almost As Immaculately As Jesus

I don’t like to think about my parents having sex, but as the story goes, I was conceived ( almost as Immaculately as Jesus, I reckon) on this day thirty one years ago.  Every year on April 16th, I think of this and feel like it should be a bigger deal than people make it out to be.  I think kings and queens who rule over heavenly realms should greet me in bed with kisses and cupcakes and champagne.  Their skin is cool, Krishna-blue and softer than silk.  They ooze a fragrance that teases me with the dancing promise of the long awaited blossoming of the lotuses arduously growing in my inner mud.

That’s what this blog is really about.  I’ve been contemplating what I am up to, here on the page… and if I had to boil it down, which of course I don’t… But if I did… (which I DON’T), I would say that this blog is an expression of the lotus growing from within me. (And too, inside of YOU)  It is not just exalting the pinacle of the pretty-assed, electric blue and lavender bloom, but it is the celebratory savoring of the nutrient rich mud.  The fascination with the ridiculously thick, smooth stalk.  The lotus stalk is just like a bean stalk.  Maybe you can climb it all the way to a holy land above golden clouds where spiritual giants and their miraculous accessories and side kicks kick it old skool.  Okay, I got a little excited and worked up.  Lotuses do this to me… But yeah, I offer my words to this page as an acknowledgement of the perfection and beauty of the incessant process of Divine Becoming.  I am sick of constraining my mind with all these concepts of “When I become Enlightened”… When I am spiritually awake.  All these needless divisions imposed by a mind bred to divide and hide the intrinsic miracle of BEING.  Enlightenment is a spiral staircase, Baby!  Hop aboard!

Still, I don’t think my lotus has bloomed yet, but who cares?  It will in APL’s sweet transcendent time.  I have been realizing that patience and perseverance are my spiritual path right now.  I laugh as I write that, because again, my words divide and conquer.  As if life were created to be boiled down to garden variety, mundane sentences.  What does all of this mean???  It means that I LOVE.  It means that every single word that spills from me like a wilderness of spring raindrops is imbued with heart.  I can feel my heart bleeding like a sun, pouring hot rays of love’s language out my finger tips and onto this page in the spirit of freedom.  I guess I’m glad my parents knocked boots.  I like it here.  I don’t always.  How often I have yearned to die!  But NOW, in love, I feel like a lighthouse throwing out wicked bright beams of praise, guiding lost ships back to the sacred place that has never left any of us.

More on relationships!  Yesterday Mykael and I were having sex and I was not feeling my heart.  It felt like going through the motions and honestly, sometimes, when I’m horny enough, I don’t mind that.  But yesterday I minded.  I was in my head trying to figure out what the source of the disconnect was… Finally I said something to the effect of that I was not feeling my heart… or his… or something and I wanted to feel more connected.  Interestingly, Mykael filtered my communication through all the nuts and bolts and gears in his human head and spit out the interpretation that he was being attacked and the situation required defense on his part.  Then Miss Athena suddenly began to feel hurt because she didn’t feel heard and her desire for deeper connection had turned to battle.  Let the games BEGIN!!!  She fought to be heard.  He fought to be good enough, a good enough lover, a good enough man.  Soon enough we were in the all too familiar cesspool of exhausting attack and defense.  Capricorns and Tauruses are supposed to be a match made in heaven… But where’s the accounting for two extremely stubborn being coming together?  Two cloven hoofed beasts in a slow, arduous earthen battle.

Capricorns are far superior anyway…  (GRIN)  When we fight and he slips into that embodiment of extra dense dude, I feel like I’ve gotta sling some seriously long, dangerously sharp arrows in order to penetrate his bedrock thick skin.  I get mean.  He gets hurt.  I don’t know how else to get through to him.  The scene:  Us naked.  Him inside me, losing his hard on by the defensive second.  The intensity and the volume raising.  Me pushing him off me.  More exacerbated, desperate, frivolous communication.  Him finally storming out and slamming the door behind him.  (To hear him tell it, he was never a door slammer before I habituated him to that highly indulgent, asinine behavior.  Personally, I’m proud to be the initiator of door slam-dom.  He claims he is NOT a fan of the practice.)  Sure, I was mad… I’d much rather express my desire and have my man reply, “Why YES, Beloved Goddess, surely you are right, let’s enter deeper into our hearts, each other’s hearts, god’s heart!  Right now!!!  On your marks get set GO!!!!”

NO.  I would NOT rather relate like that.  How boring, pathetic milk toast would that be?!!  No challenge.  NO friction.  NO FUN.  If this same scene had occurred last week, I would have made it mean more evidence that we should not be together.  I would have felt so justified in leaving him.  But not this week.  As Grace would have it, I was standing in my love for him.  Miraculously, I stood at the very mouth of the deep well of patience.  That’s a good place to find yourself standing when you are feeling triggered by your partner, eh?!  HERE IS THE BEST PART!!~ I opened the previously slammed bathroom door.  His bathrobe was still jammed in the door from the prior dramatic demonstration!  The look on his face when I entered his chamber was PRICELESS!  Holy GOD!  I can’t explain why it opened me the way it did… but I’ll die trying… Just for YOU.  He was fiddling around on his Iphone… and his face was contorted in the most exaggerated, though entirely sincere teenage-strife-pout-face!  Honestly, it was so over the top, it looked like a face a bad amateur actor would make if he was trying out for the role of a silver spoon, thirteen year old from the alabaster and caviar side of the tracks!  I wanted to keep a straight face, but not a chance.  I cracked up.  Woops.  (In my world I lose points for not being able to keep a straight face in a “serious moment”.  It’s like falling out of character on set of a movie and you have to re-shoot the scene.)

Apparently, during our spat, I said something that made him think I was threatening to leave him again.  This terrified him.  Not once during the fight did my mind even stumble into that prickly possibility.  So when he divulged that he was tangled in that reality again, I wanted to draw him to my breast and pet his frightened head.  Women.  We change our minds a lot… Love us or… Shrug… In that moment, I realized the impact of all my recent talk of break-up.  It erodes the container.  I am not making myself wrong at all for going there. I did.  That’s all.  And I probably will again.  I’m just saying, that I can see that the impact is creating a partner who flinches on some level, waiting for the door’s final slam in his face.  Ouch.

I managed to stay rooted in curiosity throughout this whole ordeal.  It was revelatory for me.  Let me tell you why.  Because I saw this possibility shine like rich, honeyed sunbeams pressing their way free of the thick, steely gray clouds~ The possibility of engaging in relationship from a place of genuine curiosity and incessant exploration, rather than all of these stupid, cardboard expectations, unexamined social programs.  Some part of me has been constantly preoccupied by hopes of marriage and financial security, children and owning our own home.  All the soulless endeavors agreed upon by a sleeping world.  Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind having all those things.  But not at the expense of thriving in the MYSTERY.  Not at the expense of truly SEEING.  Not at the expense of feeling fully alive in a state of wonder of self and other.  Not at the expense of striving so hard that one day you wake up and you are DEAD!

Yesterday’s experience helped me realize that that is truly what I want in relationship.  I want to be continuously curious and surprised.  I want to cultivate patience and acceptance to the point of MASTERY.  I want to love the process more than some blah-zay, hollow result.  And I want to laugh my ass off at the pouty teenager who is all too alive and well in my partner! (and yes, CERTAINLY in myself, too…)

4 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. K
    Apr 16, 2010 @ 20:29:36

    Happy Birthday Athenagrace.


  2. Patt
    Apr 16, 2010 @ 21:08:50

    Happy Birthday Goddess, May the heavens pour down kisses, champagne and cupcakes and may the silky blue Krishnas fragrance your every wish. Patt


  3. athenagrace
    Apr 17, 2010 @ 17:37:20

    It was not my birthday… it was my Immaculate Conception day= The day when the ONE sperm and the ONE egg found each other and began the exponential holy division that made this dream of me turn “solid”… Wow. Just writing that astounds me. One sperm and one egg… and then all of THIS!!!! But I take your words as blessings and for that I say THANK YOU!!!!


  4. Melissa
    Apr 19, 2010 @ 00:13:43

    What wonderful revelations about relationship! We all have that inner pouty teenager, and the fear, and the yearning for something we think is security or safety (even if what looks to others like security is what makes us feel scared, and so avoiding it feels like safety…)but if we come at relationship with joyful curiosity and wonder, then things become so much less heavy, don’t they? I’m working on that, haven’t gotten there yet, but thanks for the reminder! -M


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