God? Can you hear me? I need your help. I feel suddenly depressed. Can you please move your ornery old elephant off my chest now? PLEASE. God! God. God. God. God. God, how do I engage in this world of illusions when nothing means anything? How do I find my place in a meaningless world? I guess that makes me meaningless too. I guess that makes Love the only meaning. But loving can get so misconstrued, contorted, congealed. I don’t even feel my love of writing right now, God. This scares me, because I thought writing was the only thing I had to hold on to in the face of this falling apart. But nope. Looks like that wasn’t your plan for me. Looks like you wish for every last fiber of stuffing to be ripped from me today. Okay. I trust you. But it hurts. I’m probably better off without stuffing anyway. God, please make me pure. Make my heart so naked and pure that it Loves all beings AS YOU. Yes God, if I am going to this place of existential despair as my whole life comes undone, let it be so that my mind is restored to the perception of wholeness. Let these tears be shed only to wash me clean. God, please show me how to life my life as Love.
At the farmer’s market today, nobody bought a poem from me. Is that part of the reason I suddenly was ransacked with sorrow? But three men came to visit me. Shrug. Maybe just to bathe in my radiance. Men. Lately it seems like I am attracting so many men. I guess because I’m beautiful inside and out. And because I’m generous, open, sincere, caring, sexy, fun, deep, creative and so on. Sigh. Don’t get me wrong, I like to be desired… but isn’t there more to life than the stupid chase? The stupid chase for WHAT? For this other ONE who is supposed to be the torch of our happiness and fulfillment. This just IN: No other single human being will EVER fill your hole (well… you know what I mean…) so you might as well quit pretending and find some real fish to fry.
The first male visitor I had was an older man who bought a poem from me back in the stone age. He has made a regular practice of saying hello every week, God bless ‘im. Today he was considering getting another poem… and I offered that he could gift one to someone he loved. He said he didn’t love anyone, which struck me as indubitably fishy, since he’s a pretty enlightened chap. So I poked around at him a bit and learned that he was referring to romantic love, which our culture seems to value so much more than any other strain of the unavoidable L word. It kinda ticked me off that he demoted all the other loves in his life to the rung of the status ladder just below chopped liver and taxes. So many people do that. Like if your not getting laid or feeling generally intoxicated by the OBJECT of your affection, than it ain’t worth a measly tinkling of pocket change. He confessed that mostly he lived in the Heaven that life can be if one chooses to see it… but sometimes he has pangs of yearning for a special someone.
I tried to tell him that even when you HAVE a special someone, THE PANGS DON’T GO AWAY. Humans were built to pang ourselves silly. And every time we pang, we think something is wrong and we must fill the hole. Desire fulfillment desire fulfillment itch scratch itch scratch itch… Honestly, People… ain’t nuttin’ gonna fill your hole except God, but God is see-through, so to the untrained eye, it might still seem like a hole.
Which brings me to my second visitor. He’s a beautiful man on a beautiful path of awakening. Two weeks ago, he bought a poem from me. As I was probing around in his interior for poem material, I asked him if he had one wish right now, what would it be? He said to kiss me. Blush. Naturally, I liked hearing that… and at the same time… I… didn’t really want to kiss him. But we did go rock climbing the other day. And then he cooked me dinner! I was heavily bleeding that day and I felt so nurtured by his love filled food and quality company. I swear. You know how I’ve been feeling so alone and aching? The meal that he cooked for me was MAGICAL! He eats macrobiotic, so it was healthy and vibrant. In the two years plus that Mykael and I have been together he has never cooked for me… which is NOT to make Mykael out to be a punk-ass… he’s totally not… cooking is just not a way that he is able to show his love for me. But feeling loved by a man through a delicious, nourishing meal that HE prepared was worth its weight in Cuban cigars, Elvis Presley collector’s items and unicorn tears! But does he want more from me? I’m afraid that he wants a relationship with a capital R.
Which brings me to bachelor number three. He materialized before me, suddenly as if he had been freshly beamed down from the mothership. A beautiful, thick black man with dreadlocks a few life-times long and a silken voice laden with implicit intelligence and wisdom. Gazing into his eyes, I could tell that he knew some cosmic secrets and had been through a school of knocks both soft and not so soft. We shared some very forthright, soul gazing conversation. I asked him why he was on the planet. He said to learn to be a whole man in a broken world and… something else profound… too bad I forget. Maybe to help humanity ascend to the next level of awakening or some’m… he was truly beautiful and saw much of myself in him. Yeah, I guess I see much of myself most every which way I look… but… he was a particularly high self. Very mystical that All Pervading One sprinkled him down upon me… But WHY? He carried my typewriter as I bought two bunches of rainbow chard and a lavish bunch of Italian parsley. I fed him a strawberry. Oops, that made him want to kiss me. Guess he’s just another king looking for his queen after all. Or to put it as blatantly as possible, another cock looking for his pussy. Shrug. What other dances can I do with men besides the mating dance? And what about sex? Maybe I’ll hold off on that carnal impulse for a while. Honestly, any monkeys can rub their stupid genitals together. Jesus. I’d rather my heart and soul were BLOWN wide open and left smokin’ in God’s holy ocean.
I do NOT know how to relate with men right now. In the twilight hours of my current relationship, I find myself questioning relationship with a capital R all together. I have vowed to myself to take at least a year off from relationship all together. I have a lot to explore and discover within before I dare enmesh with anyone else. My only boyfriends will be Jesus, Yogananda and Shri Krishna! There’s no point in subscribing to another half-baked (at best) savior with a small s. No thanks. I don’t want another relationship until I meet my Maker once and for all and learn how to honor and respect that Relationship moment to moment with the full devotion of my heart.
Awoman.
Athena Graceland 
Aug 28, 2010 @ 18:13:06
Thoroughly blown away by you, Athena Grace. How I’d love the women I mentor to care as much about themselves as you do about you. How to honour yourself!
You are very brave with your prayer requests. Sometimes I cringe, “Ewww. Watch what you pray for, Athena Grace.” But you seem very willing and capable of receiving all facets of spiritual tutelage at once. Whomp…I believe you are bleeding heavily!!
Love your line, “God is see-through, so to the untrained eye, it might still seem like a hole.” That is going to sit in my precious place for a while. Thanks for sharing.
Want to share an except from “The Velveteen Rabbit” by Margery Williams:
(Conversation between a velveteen rabbit and a toy skin horse)
“What is REAL?” asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. “Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?”
“Real isn’t how you are made,” said the Skin Horse. “It’s a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.”
“Does it hurt?” asked the Rabbit.
“Sometimes,” said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. “When you are Real you don’t mind being hurt.”
“Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,” he asked, “or bit by bit?”
“It doesn’t happen all at once,” said the Skin Horse. “You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.”
Love to you…hope your hair is soon loved off!
Aug 29, 2010 @ 04:24:50
AMY!!! I *just* gave away my copy of the velveteen rabbit last week! I LOVE that story! WOW!
Thank you for showing up again and again and again and again and again and again and…
with a heart that has long since become REAL.
I LOVE YOU SO DEARLY!
~Athena Grace
Aug 29, 2010 @ 04:46:24
You may use my new mantra, Athena;
‘I won’t settle for anything less than everything’
Aug 29, 2010 @ 10:46:12
I think you went through a period where you were really grounded. The “Course in Miracles” seemed to be your guide. Remember these exercises: “My thoughts do not mean anything.” “My meaningless thoughts are showing me a meaningless world.” “I am upset because I see a meaningless world.” “A meaningless world engenders fear.” “God did not create a meaningless world.” “My thoughts are images that I have made.”…etc. ???
Get a copy of Yogananda’s “Divine Romance”. On page 18 the chapter entitled: “A New Look at the Origin and Nature of Cosmic Creation” begins by telling us that he will explain the nature of cosmic creation in a new light, not to be found in textbooks. By the time he gets to page 22 he explains that “life is a dream unworthy of our tears, and later, that we dream our own limitations, and eventually…only in God are we safe from delusion. I believe you know that, but I don’t think you KNOW that, wise as you are. Yogananda will set you straight. Get thee to the library!
I think you should read this and at the same time, heed the excellent advice of Souldipper. Her reply was right on.
I love you…you’re the best!
Sep 05, 2010 @ 18:45:35
Bingo.
I seem to be getting more attention lately from men, too — and, coming out of a 12-13 year cantankerous, ecstatically soul-fragmenting relationship that had gone about as ‘fer as it could go — I feel like a 14-year-old when a brother being goes out of his way to interact with me. Me? Speechless? It happens. And yes, I want to dance differently,too. I’m not sure this new way has even taken form on the planet yet. We’re going to have teach each other the steps as we go, and remember that we might trip, but we don’t need to fall. Except, of course, into the arms of joyful, easeful, comfortable, conscious partnering. I couldn’t possibly be more ready than I am right this very moment. yee. hah.