Let the Bullshit Burn

Ladies and Gentlemen, live from the eye of the needle… Please give a warm welcome to our beloved linguistic exhibitionist, Mrs. Athena Grace, LMNOP!

I guess you know you’re living the right life when you look out your eyes, and extend the tender, invisible fingers of your heart to grope about the immediacy of your environment (within and without, because, duh, “as above, so below”), and you say to yourself, “Wow, I’ve never been HERE before.” Mmm, I like that spin on this moment as breathed by yours truly. This moment feels prickly, though potentially benign… like a threatened porcupine. Lately I’ve been having this experience of people asking me how I am, and noticing that what comes out of my mouth sounds more pathetic than I mean for it to… Powerless. Irresponsible. (God, I hope I start my period soon. I feel like a bursting, glutenous tick.)

I dunno about you, but lately, I have been attracting a loud, clear message that our personal and collective karma is rising to the surface to be healed, digested, transmuted. And I’ve been asking myself what that IS for me… What are the personal stories of lack, limitation and bondage that I have been lugging around? I think the dousing rod of my self-inquiry is drawing near to something powerful… because I suddenly feel like I could burst into you-know-whats. But I won’t collapse. I’m just here to take an honest look at myself. Because I want to be my very best.

“But then,” pipes in my resident philosopher, “What is my best?… It *seems* like it’s that loftier-than-thou, demigoddess image of who I *could* be… if… I wasn’t all tangled up in myself. But I’m not that. I’m THIS me. Who is sitting here on the cushioned bench at Pizzaiolo, steeping in the thick din of decadent first world existence, musing on who I am, who I could be, and dare I say it, who I *should* be.”

I thought I believed that everyone truly IS doing their best… but today, I’m not so sure. Personally, I think I could be doing better. It hurts to say that. Because it doesn’t feel very self-loving. But I don’t want to keep letting myself off the hook. It’s painful to be as powerful and brilliant as I am… and incessantly drift across my finite days here on planet earth, uncommitted, untethered, uncertain. I’m coming to the point where feeling myself in this all too familiar place MAKES ME SCREAM INSIDE.

And that brings us back to the subject of karma. As I mull over this subject, what’s coming into focus, is the unhealed little girl in me, who just wants life to do it for her. She is nauseatingly comfortable in such phrases as “I can’t, I quit, I dunno…” The image that arises is an atrophied muscle. I welcome the fiery anger rising up from my belly and spreading into my chest.

The nebulous call of my destiny is coming into increasingly sharp focus. I cannot continue to collapse in crusty, pathetic habits. The fierce and steady desire to be a mother, to bring a child into the world is pressing me up against an excruciatingly uncomfortable edge inside myself. This longing tugs at the depths of my being every single day. And I wonder, “how on earth can I take care of another human being, when I can barely take care of myself?…” And I feel shoved against the oppressive wall of my own self-imposed limitations. God it pisses me off. How can I articulate this texture of my experience in such a way that you can taste the gravity of it? Is that enough? The fire is growing in me. I pray that it becomes hot enough to consume my feigned weakness.

Who is the woman in me who is “qualified” to be bestowed with the great blessing of motherhood? I feel some self-judgement arise in admitting that this is the question around which I aspire to organize my life. But one thing you can count on here in Athena Graceland is raw honesty. Mostly… unless I’m too chicken on a given day. But generally, I’m all about ripping the bandaid off…

Besides, it’s all tied in together. This karma knocking, the deep longing to become mother, and this rising fire inside… is a call to embody my strength. That’s the essence of it. The version of me, who is banging at the door, demanding to be realized is the leader. The teacher. The author. Grrrrrr I just want to stand up tall and bold and strong and CALL FORTH A WORLD OF PEACE.

Karma. What’s a bitch gotta do to break through? Well… I’m here. And I’m writing it down. And I’m letting my breath flood in and stoke the flames of longing. Feed the fire, Mrs. Grace. Feed the fire. Let nothing be spared. I’m fucking tired of half-heartedly calling myself a writer, covertly pressing the “publish” button, and hoping *someone* will hear me… and find comfort or strength, illumination or inspiration in what I have to share. I want to let my voice be heard, far and wide. I want to trust what comes through me. I want to give myself to a vision big enough that it scares me, stretches me, calls me forth.

I will! But I must break free from this prison of indecision and powerlessness. What is the next step? Today… Now… May I have the clarity and wisdom to recognize it, and the courage to say YES.

Live A.

1 Comment (+add yours?)

  1. Rosy Moon
    Sep 05, 2013 @ 20:03:54

    Bootcamp for you!! Love you, Moon


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