Clumsy, Messy, Blessed

What you don’t know, is that I attempted to strip down to my (figurative) birthday suit and take a cannonball plunge into Athena Graceland two days ago, but I was slogging through so much thick self-denigration, I couldn’t even muscle through it, like I mostly always have been able to. This time, it demanded to be the Heartless Head Mistress, and all I could do, in the face of such demonic inner forces, was cast down my sword and shield, and j-walk across the street to Walgreens, purchase a composition book, which to my substantial though compartmentalized delight, happened to be on sale for eighty-nine cents, run into Gregory, who I took yoga training with eight years ago and fuck this is a run-on sentence and I am no longer feeling liberated or inspired by it, so I’m gonna go like this: .

Hell, I’ll even start a NEW PARAGRAPH!! By the time I encountered sweet, luminous Gregory, I was about to claw myself to death and then stick a swirly straw through my ear and slurp out my brains. Not good. But as a member of the Under-cover Angels Brigade, his eyes shone with compassion and Truth and he gave me a hug and told me how great it was to be a father. When we knew each other, he was PINING to find a wife and bust a move on the family scene… and now he’s so blissfully in it. And I felt the clashing sting of simultaneous gladness for him and razor-fanged, woman-eating jealousy. I left the store in mild pathetic tears, like a bout of sunny, afternoon rain spilling from a schizophrenic sky.

“Grattidude,” he called out to me as a parting reminder from one mildly deluded bodhisattva to another… and that’s when I realized I had just bought myself a GRATITUDE JOURNAL! (The universe has been telling me to start one for months now…) So I parked it in the frigid, autumn sunshine of Pizzaiolo’s backyard garden, opened my book to page one, twisted my gratitude valve, and in my favorite pink pen, I began to pour fourth worlds of inky goodness. You wouldn’t believe how quickly that changed my mood. Then Ed snuck up behind me and planted a kiss on my head.

That was a lot of words just to say that I tried to blog the day before yesterday, was defeated by a carnivorous internal weather-system. And now, I am “taking two”… And I’m standing up on the smooth, wooden table in the crowded cafe and shouting words of praise that it is a NEW DAY, and I have chosen to let go of the past and be freshly born!!!

God… this has been my yoga lately. So much negativity has been rising up inside me like evil steam. I have been perpetually tempted to be so cruel and unusual to myself. But the covert, remarkable beauty of this, is that I have been able to stay awake mostly the whole, entire time. And lovingly slap at my sleepy cheek. “Athena,” I say, “do you really want to let yourself flow into that dirty ditch and drain yourself into the municipal SEWER? The answer, of course, is FUCK NO!!! I want to be HAPPY. I want to be kind and generous and loving and patient with myself. But good-flippin-LORD! This endeavor is requiring every last drop of inner resource lately.

At times like these, I like to believe that this horrific ugliness is a symptom of PURIFICATION. Up and OUT! Because I am committed to recognizing myself (and you) as the Love of God. Nothing more and nothing less. But zoiks, it’s been a challenge lately. Luckily, though, being an athenian light warrior, I AM fond of a good challenge!

Is it just me, or has this week been a potent pivot in consciousness? I swear… it seems to be rushing into and through me, like a powerful current of reckless spring river. The sort river that took Dan’s life last year. But this current shall not TAKE my life, but GIVE it. I am being called forth new. It started in Kimber’s yoga class, with her invitation to consider what questions we are living inside of… She encouraged us to ask the deep, HARD questions. And not only that, but to LOVE them.

Then there is the online writing program I’m doing with SARK, which is helping me identify and redirect my firing squad of malevolent inner-critics, and learn to make “micro-movements” in the direction of my dreams. You know, the dreams I refused to admit I even HAD, in my last blog… But fooled you, I DO have dreams! Actually, I fooled myself… but not for too long. I am remembering. Even simple dreams… like having a home I LOVE. Like not having to share Ed with his nuclear family. Like creating the stability in my life that is necessary to be a mother. Like synthesizing all of my gifts and talents and the beautiful music of my soul into something deeply meaningful and satisfying and of value to others. Many others. Or even the super vanilla dream of going to the dentist and getting my four cavities filled! Sigh…

Wait… what am I driving at? Oh yeah. I woke up this morning and realized that I’ve been WORKING TOO HARD. Spiritually, I mean. But the joke is on lovely little Athena Grace. Because the rotting and crippled protestant work ethic is a dead paradigm. Especially in the realm of the soul. A thriving soul requires a habitat of JOY. Of play. Of wonder and curiosity and delight.

And so, the question that is tugging fervently at my pant leg, is HOW DO I BE HAPPY? What do I need to think, say, do, BE, in order to wake up EVERY SINGLE DAY feeling radiant and madly jazzed to be alive??!!! Because lately, I’ve been in a life-negating pattern of being brutally hard on myself, and subscribing to this putrid idea that there is an immense mountain that I must climb… and it will not be fun. It will be hard. And don’t I even dare smile. (tho sometimes I do anyway!)

Why am I telling you all this? Because I have a feeling that we are ALL purging old programs, archaic belief systems, out-grown, constricting notions of self. I have said this before, and I’ll say it again. And again… The end of the world, last year, was no joke. We are transfiguring into the collective shape of self-realized, infinite LOVE. We must keep believing in the invisible! Shhhhhh… listen. Listen to that soft, gentle whisper, rushing like warm, gorgeous music from within your magnificent heart. I know you know what I am talking about. Because we are the same. And I hear it. Especially when I choose loving thoughts, loving words, loving actions.

I guess the moral of the story is that the New World is calling to us from the Invisible. And it needs YOU… to believe. And to love like there’s no yesterday and no tomorrow. The revolution begins (and ends) within. I’m serious. But only homeopathically serious. Because today is for JOY.

Live,
A

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