The Silver Whisper of Mortality

On my thirty third birthday, to my delight, I discovered my first white hair.  It was shorter than the rest, and reached skyward like a little fairy antennae.  Every time I looked at it, I felt a sense of soulful relief that I was finally growing into my Self.  The Self who had toiled and ached in the gaping chasm between the wisdom of my soul and the limitations of my sparse experience as a twenty-something years alive humanoid on planet Earth.  (I still marvel at those who feel that their twenties are the best years of their life!!!  Unfathomable…)  My white hair was a prized trophy.  Actually, Ed told me to call it “silver”.  That does sound more glamorous… so let’s go with that… makes it sound like I could take it to the bank or use it for alchemical wizardry…

After not TOO much time, I got tired of the way it refused to blend with the flock, and I impulsively plucked it, convinced that soon enough, more would come.  They didn’t.  Until a couple weeks ago.  And THIS time, three years later, my response to this burgeoning silvered, wiser version of myself is not nearly as insouciant.  Actually, the contrast is remarkable.  This time I am the mother of a five month alive goddess… And I feel suddenly OLD.  I have felt worn ragged since she came.  I hope it passes.  I have been living in an incessant state of mild to spicy exhaustion.  My yoga practice has spilled between the cracks in my whittled down, practical existence, as I prioritize money making endeavors, basic hygiene and hOMe maintenance.  And when I DO exercise, it’s walking with a seventeen pound sack of Boozle strapped to me.  God, I feel like I leave a trail of foot-shaped craters in my wake!  My knees creak and groan precariously as I crouch up and down while cleaning houses, wearing my daughter.  And best of all is the steady numbness in my thumb, pointer and middle finger, from the sudden flair up of postpartum carpal tunnel!

It actually feels ridiculous to be writing this.  I never imagined that I’d tell it on a mountain about falling apart and “feeling old”.  I’m hoping that it’s a fleeting, short-lived experience resulting from the Xtreme sport of being a new mom.  A SINGLE new mom at that.  And a *relatively* poor one a that.  Actually, I do not consider myself poor.  I feel pretty wealthy.  But not wealthy enough to thrust heaps of cash at a babysitter while I go off and get a nice, deep, luxurious massage, or weekly acupuncture… or even… mmmm… a swim a the local pool.  Now I’m drooling.

Serena is becoming more and more awake and engaged… and I am humbled.  Gone are the days when she’d just sleep like a little dense loaf of heaven, and I could get on with my romanticized existence as a new mother.  Nope.  Welcome to the version of reality where I am mostly busting my butt to earn money while constantly attending to Serena, and keeping myself and my home in a moderate state of loveliness.  Oh… and at least dabbling in staying connected to others.

If my life was a piece of music…. God, there are so many different instruments playing, and weaving together a very eclectic strand of melodies and diverse tones.  Loneliness moans from deep down in my heart like a wailing saxophone.  I thought I was ok with loneliness by now.  I used to be afraid to admit Her presence, for fear of frightening others even further away from me.  But over time, I realized that loneliness is an inevitable guest who visits everyone from time to time… no big deal.  Lately though, I have not been such a gracious hostess… because while She has mostly been a respectful guest who doesn’t overstay her welcome, recently she seems to have set up camp.  I guess She needs a lot of my loving attention.  Sigh.  I often feel frustrated that I am a single mom.  Even though I chose it, I find myself longing to do it with Ed… Imagining a highly glamorous rendition of intimacy, witnessing the child we created out of our potent, devoted love, unfurl and blossom every day… Being kissed and held… Leaving Serena with him while I went to my weekly yoga class… Writing about this is causing the gravitational field in my heart to become crushing.

But back to the symphony singing in me.  There is a brass section, that is crashing triumph!  This experience has catalyzed the lazy, inert dimensions of me to WAKE UP and get groovin!  A deep part of me was yearning to get unstuck… crying out for the grace of something that mattered enough to compel me to bleed and sweat and make shit happen.  Silver hairs or not, if I was babyless, I’d still be draped on the figurative chaise lounge, eating organic bonbons and watching new-age soap operas.  Ha!  Actually, my LIFE is a bit of a new-age soap opera…. I remember one time, about three years ago, I was getting ready to leave my Ma’s house, and return back to my lovely art deco apartment in the Land of Oaks… and my Ma said to her cat, “Jupi, say bye to Athena… She’s going back to her soap opera now.”  This comment simultaneously agitated me and cracked me UP!!!  There was too much truth to it to be casually dismissed.  But thankfully, over time, my Ma graduated my existence to the status of a full on OPERA.  A classier production with bold, heart-wrenching music and exquisite costumes…  I wonder what she’d deem this current incarnation.  Now there’s not enough frivolous time to flop around and squeeze drama from the cracks in my life.  My days are a steady stream of rigorous output.  But somehow still colorful, because come on, it’s Graceland!  Anyway, a deep part of me feels profoundly satisfied to be working so hard, and experiencing myself as boundless and powerful.

And yet… simultaneously, there is a part of me who is really getting off on feeling like a victim!  I don’t know what instruments would sound for this section of my inner musical landscape….?  Oh duh!  VIOLINS.  Tons of them!!  Pooooor Athena.  She has to do it all by herself.  There is nobody to hold her baby.  Her body aches and she’s exhausted and it never stops.  It’s weird, but I can actually feel myself ENJOYING feeling sorry for myself in some moments!  Even as I am concurrently feeling empowered and strong.  I tell you this, because I feel a passionate call to bust through the collectively constructed myth that a person must be all streamline and tidy on the inside.  NO WAY.  We each have so many dimensions singing up from within us, all at once.  And they don’t have to agree or make any semblance of sense.  And yet, even inside this miraculous cacophony, we can still be graceful and at peace.

If you don’t know this about me yet, I love my stories to have “morals”.  Not the kind of morals that measure your worthiness or acceptability… but the kind that invite you to look inside and touch your own humanity and divinity in an intimate and meaningful way.  Modern day parables!  I’m a messy, modern day Jesus!  Haha!!!  But seriously, Jesus taught the masses to love everyone.  And I am suggesting that the precursor to that illuminated stance, is to love everyone who lives inside of YOU.  I believe in the dawning of a world of peace and harmony… because it is rising soft and radiant in my own heart and life.  And it is highly contagious.

Amen.

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Watch my vid!!!

Hello Friends!  I know that Athena Graceland has been a ghost town as of late… I have been exploring the medium of video, and finding so much delight in this mode of expression.  This is just the beginning… I am taking the world by storm.  I want to remind you all of the Truth.  That you are INFINITE.  You are WHOLE.  You are a powerful creator, and your thoughts and feelings CREATE YOUR REALITY.  The mind can get so lazy…. and fall asleep as you tumble through well worn grooves in your mind.  But time to WAKE UP.  Together… Come on!!!!  You and me.  Let’s dare to LOVE like we were BORN TO LOVE.  And shape our lives and the world from inspired vision and delight!!!!

 

Check out my first video here:

 

 

Blessed BE,

Athena Grace

 

 

The Journey of Refinement

This morning I’m thinking about the power of words to shape reality. Honestly, I’m feeling tired of telling the same weather-beaten stories and surfing the same tired waves. A deep part of me just wants to take a long, luxurious swim in the gentle waters of silence for a while; only speak when I’m compelled to from the core of my being. The heart of the universe. How can I inhabit these silly, endearing stories of my life from a higher consciousness?

One of the first lessons in my “Good Book” of choice, (grin), A Course in Miracles, is “I do not know what anything is for.” To practice the lesson, you’re sposta look around your immediate vicinity, and as your eyes fall on each object, say, “I don’t know what this table is for. I don’t know what this computer is for. I don’t know what this husband is for.” Etcetera. The first time I did the exercise, I was not aware of the profound opportunity nestled within those words. The course is designed to undo our habits of perception, so that we can once again be available to recognize the divine light that shines upon the altar of our mind. Note that I wrote “mind”, not “minds”, because the course also teaches that there is only ONE mind, and that is the mind of God. It is our delusive perception that argues for the reality of separation. Separation is but a dream. And as night time dreams, it is benign. When you wake up, you are untouched by the reality of the dream. Ya dig? And this reality we are so freakin RIVETED by, is exactly the same. When we wake, our souls will be untouched by the incessant snarl of agonies and ecstasies in which we imagine to be ecstatically flailing about.

The course says that there is another way to inhabit this dream. Another meaning that can be assigned to time, and to the “stuff” of this world. That meaning is LOVE. We can use everything as tools and props and opportunities to align with and express the healing light of the Infinite. To guide us back Home, and to shepherd all of our Brothers and Sisters along with us.

Sounds ambitious, huh? Well maybe so, but the alternative is losing its luster. Chasing this wispy cloud of an ego dream, and that… inevitably winding up at the same busted wall of dissatisfaction and longing. Sometimes I catch myself taking gluttonous hits of envy of those who seem to be satisfied by the flavors and colors and textures of this world. You know, the people who believe that the meaning of life is to “have fun”… It *seems* so simple and relaxing.

I believe the meaning of life to be Self realization; Self mastery. Some would argue that you CAN realize the Self through having fun. Deep breath… I agree to an extent. Because in having fun, there IS a quality of absorption… Like the way a child becomes so immersed in their play, that they fall off the space-time continuum entirely, couldn’t care less about eating or sleeping or any of those other rote, mundane activities that us domesticated, caged adults LIVE FOR!!! (Sheesh, where did we take the wrong turn?!) But ultimately, I believe that if we want to come unstuck from our mental and emotional habits, and inhabit a deeper slice of Reality, it requires a willingness to roll up our figurative sleeves and get messy and break a sweat in the name of true inner freedom.

I’m beginning to doubt that I know what real happiness is. Maybe what I thought was happiness, was actually just a cheap form of getting high: “I LOVE my new puppy!” “That was a fantastic orgasm!” “I look so hot in my new lacy yoga pants!” Gosh, that sounds so black and white. That’s not what I meant. A better way of saying it, is that I see the spiritual path as a journey of refinement. As we grow to embody and reflect more of our soul qualities, the experience of such things as love and happiness transform. When I was nine, I was ecstatic when my Ma made me my FAVORITE dinner: macaroni and cheese!!! (She rocked it, too. Real cheese. And butter. Not that fake, neon, packaged bullshit.) But today, at age thirty four, I feel a more subtle joy hearing birdsong, or beholding the majestic artistry of a live oak tree. I feel complete, delicious absorption while I am teaching yoga. And hopefully, someday (not so far off) (though time is an illusion), I will simply turn inward and naturally become drunk on the exquisite bliss of my true nature! Dang, that’s gonna rock!!!

And meanwhile, I pray to be at peace as I live all that I must live, in the imaginary distance between here and there.

OM.

It’s Time To Rise!!

Do you want the good news or the bad news first?

Well I’m gonna give you the GOOD news, because it is so good.
The messiah has returned to earth!!!

And now for the bad news:
Haha tricked you, there IS no bad news. But the news that could be construed as “bad”, by the lazy and the cynics among us, is that the messiah is YOU. And I’m not just saying that because my poetic license is glamorously up to date. I am saying it because this is becoming so blatantly obvious to me. We are each capable of manifesting the unlimited stream of goodness that is always flowing through us right NOW. We are not victims of circumstance or the past. And if we think we are, it is simply because we have not forgiven.

Do not be fooled. Forgiveness is NOT for the “fallible” he or she who has done you wrong. Who suffers for the burdensome grievances you choose to slog along as you trudge down the road of Life? Yep. You.

Listen to me. EVERYTHING is forgivable. Everything. You would not begrudge a tiny child for the myriad times she falls as she learns to walk… so why begrudge any of your brothers or sisters… for we are all but amnesiac divine children stumbling in the dark, that we may find our way Home. When you hold onto an image of another, based on their past behavior, you are confining both your own consciousness and theirs to a prison fabricated by your own misguided imagination.

Of course you can argue with me. And surely you can find ample evidence to illuminate any and every view point you could possibly choose. But honestly, would you rather be right, separate, miserable, alone… or at peace? Will you now choose to know yourself as the Source of Love? I come to Athena Graceland today with fire in my belly and a vision of peace for all wo(man)kind.

I don’t follow politics. Nor do I aspire to. But I know that some bullshitty stuff is going down in Syria. And I know that the U.S. is starting to bear our fangs and thrust war cries in that direction. On Sunday, I was at Stinson Beach with my most excellent girlfriend Deirdre, and we saw a dismal-spirited man standing on the corner with a wilted american flag and a sloppily scrawled sign that begged us to stop behaving like tyrannical infants, and WAKE UP. (Yes, those were my words. I have a proclivity to vivify and summarize.) And YES, I think waking up and collectively choosing something other than war is a fantastic idea!!! I am so enrolled. But here’s what I noticed- that man looked pretty unhappy himself. How is one slumped and scowling man, standing on a street corner in a breath-giving northern california beach town going to save the world? The answer is that he’s not. Nor are any of us who rage against the machine, angrily marching with signs. Because, duh, what you resist, persists. Where attention goes, energy flows. Do you really want peace? Then BE it.

I would bet EVERYTHING that if YOU offered your whole-hearted commitment to the purification of your mind, heart and body, such that when you closed your eyes and looked within, you saw an exquisite, endless expanse of softly smiling stillness and perfect, limitless love…

I’m not exactly sure how to finish that sentence. Because I have NOT perfected myself as such. So I can not speak from experience, but only from keen intuition. It is time to stop festering with all the horrifying symptoms of our collective forgetfulness, and dive straight to the ROOT. The root is within YOU. You are a mainline straight to Source. Choose to forgive all. Choose to recognize your small, calcified, limited, separate self as the colossal sham that it it is. Come on. Let’s not waste another second!!!

This morning, on the phone with Ed, he told me that tonight he is having a ride-along with a reporter from the Oakland Tribune. He did not sound too thrilled for this. On the contrary, I bet that if I had’ve checked his diaper in the moment, it would have been filled with warm, sloppy poop! Haha!! But this is no slander on my Sweetheart’s character. It is a useful caricature of an aspect of your own consciousness. And mine. You see, he told me that he wasn’t sure WHO this person was, or what they wanted… hence he didn’t know if it would be a “good” experience, or a “bad” one. And in that moment, I saw my own small, self-serving reflection. And I saw that when my consciousness is surfing that channel… living inside the question of “what can I GET from this other, and from life, itself,”… I am condemning myself to unhappiness.

So I invited him to stop waiting for the world to show up according to his narrow slab of conditions, hopes and expectations, and BE THE GIFT. Be the one to declare unconditional love, to offer sacred, penetrating presence and bottomless kindness FOR ITS OWN SAKE. If we wait for others to bend over backwards and break in order to convey a fabricated demonstration of worthiness, we might be waiting for a loooooooong time. And WE suffer for this.

To put it in the most remedial terms, it feels awesome to be nice.

And I’m not talking about pink-Betty-Crocker-frosting-out-of-the-can, nice. I’m talking about rooted-into-the-center-of-the-planet-and-the-blazing-core-of-the-galaxy-powerful-beyond-measure nice. Nice because you are acting from deep, unobscured alignment with that which you ARE at your core.

This takes practice. Lots of practice. But the good news is that you have an entire human life; an incessant stream of opulent opportunities to practice. Every single day. Right NOW.

Live,
A

The Tale of the Born-Again-Indigenous-Boogie-World

Elegantly gliding through time and space toward the bus stop this morning, my face painted with a faint smile because I was headed to a strain of heaven named hip hop dance class.  My glorious city, The Land of Oaks, shrouded in soft fog.  All of the pavement felt like a hard, crusty shell, firmly embracing a hidden and tender world.  So much motion, this urban existence.  Incessant going.  And coming.  Oh this world…

 

As my eyes fall awake to the light that lives as all forms, I often well up with such a great love as I did as I breathed in the cold moisture of the said moment, drinking it deep into my lungs.  Wonder Woman, was that a beautiful moment.  But so is this one, now that I mention it… and anyway, go-go-gadget masculine directionality of this blog.  Athena Grace, striding in brisk ecstasy and welling up with unsayable love for this world.  This love whose only longing is to extend itself.  Always.  And then the recurring dream of a dance church slid into my mind, as though it were boldly stealing home.  (Hey, that would make a great book title~ “Boldly Stealing Home”!)

 

Yes, this vision has been paying me regular visits for over a decade.  It really wants to be born!  But god, it’s a daunting vision… trying to nut and bolt out the practicalities and realities of creating a sanctuary where everyone is equal in the diverse embodied immediacy of hallelujah in motion.  This church is a place where humanity comes together and actively practices seeing and being seen with and through the generous and ever-forgiving eyes of Love.  Awe!  Grin.  Just as I typed that, the church bells outside began to siiiiiiiiiiiiing!

 

Anyway, back to the sidewalk and the fog and the striking woman bubbling over with a compelling cocktail of child-like hope, pragmatism and conveniently feigned uncertainty… It was then that I realized that I could at least WRITE this vision into existence. As I often love to assert, Athena Graceland IS MY WORLD!  I am a glorious and benevolent and whimsical ruler of this page.  I can bend and twist and straight-up defy the over-starched rules of logic, linearity and even– gasp– SCIENCE!  I see this world!  It is fresh and tender.  Yet, strong enough to be cracking through the sheath of concrete and “progress” we call home.

 

I thought to jot down this inspiration of a blog topic, but instead I just hustled to the bus stop in front of the ornate, antique Grand Lake Theater and sat upon the green, sheltered bench.  And waited.  And waited.  And waited and my bus was a whopping thirteen minutes late!  But I’ll tell you this much- the more I live, the more I am able to recognize a truly infinite intelligence at work within, through and beyond all things.  So rather than holding my breath and knitting my brow about it all, I silently asked my Self what It wished of me this miraculous, white-washed morning.  And it said WRITE*.  (*As well did it say to first get a few essential groceries at Trader Joe’s, and then stop at the pull-up bar and get my pump on and meet this buff brother with a beautiful and starving heart who would lap up the love flowing through me like a purring kitten… but that’s another story.)

 

So here I am, obeying the Small, Silent Voice.  Here I am, appointing myself High Priestess of the Land of Oaks as seen through the portal that is Athena Graceland.  You wanna hear something WEIRD???  I’ve NEVER had a yoga boyfriend!  I’d like to try it some day… I know that was off topic, but it lept, panther-style into my head… and it just seems a little wrong.  But not that wrong…

 

And now back to our previously programmed special edition of Athena Graceland- Sneak Preview of the New World!  We will become “born-again indigenous people”!  Ha!  That’s brilliant!  I mean, I am not any sort of real expert on indigenous people… but in my mind, live some abstract etchings of tribally-woven communities who exist in a paradigm of harmony with, and reverence for the earth and one another; where every person in the village takes active, devotional responsibility for the balance and thrival of the whole.  As my heart wakes up, this seems so obvious… Like DUH, we are NOT separate, and I love you as I love me, and I love me as I love you because we are the Same.  (with a capital S that rhymes with bless that stands for Oneness!) I mean that’s all Jesus was saying… and somehow we managed to invent this whole neurotic religion out of such fundamental purity.  But that’s in the past.  And from the present shines a nobly gruesome, entirely forgivable, dying world.  But shhhhhh.  Listen…

 

 

 

 

Hear the concrete cracking.  Hear the guttural, rumbling whispers of a glorious new world, reaching up from deep within the belly of the earth, like an infinity-winged angel hatching from a massive egg, spinning like an anonymous whirling dervish through a star-washed sea of vast, deep space.  See us all dancing together.  All sexes, all races, all ages and walks of life.  We gather in presence, in the spirit of play and faith and healing and CELEBRATION… We lay down our rancid and calcified stories of being small, separate and afraid, like arms in a world that has never dreamed the dream of war… simply because they bore us and we’d rather boogie!  And so we boogie!  And suddenly, we are no longer deaf to the heavenly music of our own eternal souls!   So we boogie some more, because the music is so smokin’ and it feels so good to move!

 

And in this Born Again Indigenous Boogie World, we are planting gardens EVERYWHERE!  Gardens and orchards… communities are overflowing with an abundance of fresh, nourishing, organic food.  And no one is hungry.  And no one is left to suffer alone.  Who tends the gardens, you ask?  We all do.  Not because we have to, or we’re sposta… just cuz we care.  We all genuinely care.

 

WE ALL GENUINELY CARE.

 

I truly believe that much.  In fact, I’d bet my sweet life on it.  True, we don’t all ACT like we care.  Because we’ve gone to sleep, or built stone walls around our tender, tremulous and holy hearts…. but deep down, and in that endless, beginningless place we all contain, WE SURE DO CARE.  Trust me.  The more you *want* to see that care winking from within every single brother and sister, the more you WILL see it.  I speak from experience.  We always see what we want to see.

 

What do you want to see?

 

Live,

A

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Sloppy God-Drunk Tonight!

Nobody told me that surrender would lead to the harder stuff!  Jesus.  For the last couple of days, I’ve felt quite compelled to let go of agendas… and just see what the unfiltered, unrefined, unadulterated present moment has to offer.  It’s been pretty nifty.  But now in my candlelit bedroom, I just want to flop around and act like a stoned teenager.  You know, paint my nails (metaphorically, not literally…), flip through teen magazines, drool and dream about losing my virginity to the stars of Beverly Hills 90210 (you should have heard the way I laughed at THAT one.  Sheeezzz.  I’m really enjoying deepening my friendship with Athena Grace lately!!!  She’s a hoot!)… God… the grown-up version of unstructured bedroom time would probably be knitting and watching Divine Nectar, the female ejaculation movie… or flipping through spiritual books, taking gluttinous notes in my recycled spiral notebook and watching the candle light dance my walls to the end of love.  Or even…actually WRITE poetry… I mean like in a notebook made of paper with an inky stick writing device.  I think they call ‘em “pens”…

 

MORE!!!  Give me MORE!!!  This moment is NOT enough… I want to feel MORE fulfilled.  More BLISSFUL, more happy and peaceful and in LOVE.  Oh God!  Saying all that is making my heart cackle, squeal and screach.  A dam of relief has burst inside my chest because those sentiments have gone unspoken for too long.  I mean, honestly, those deep seated longings are the root of most of the bullshit in my consciousness.  As if there is anything truly BETTER than right f-ing NOW!  (What could I say instead of F-ing?  Right Sigmund Freudian NOW.  As if there’s anything truly better than this epic relic of angelic songstress conferencing on the all pervading tip of God’s tongue…)

 

Shoot.  Landing here on the page, it is apparent that droves of unicorns are thundering recklessly about my inner planes and trampling my rhyme, reason and ability to color inside the figurative lines.  This blog is turning out to be an irreverent scribble all over the inner walls.  And you know what???  It’s turning me ON!  The next thing you know, the screen of your computer is gonna split like the seat of too tight pants and I’m gonna burst through and do a vivacious, random dance for you as I fling prismatic vegetable confetti everywhere.

 

ONCE AND FOR ALL… What is the stinkin’ meaning of life?  Please!  Can we all just stop trying to be so damn “good” when we answer this question?  Honestly.  Let’s make the meaning of life TO BE FULLY, unapologetically OURSELVES tonight… Screw all this good Samaritan bull-og-na.  Just at least for tonight.  Let’s let our hair down, rip our shirts off, hurl darts and radically miss the board on PURPOSE and sing operatic versions of our favorite songs of all times!!!  Let’s dump bags of flaming Cheetos all over the ballroom floor and STOMP ON THEM, savoring the sound and sensation as they crush beneath our holy feet.  Let’s put on our finest pearls and then RIP them from each other’s necks and watch them scatter chaotic elegance about the roomy halls of Infinity!   I’m not kidding, people.  I think I am drunk.  The moral of the story?  Be careful what you name your church (says “Our Lady of God-Drunk Grace”)… Hahahahah… I am absolutely cracking myself UP tonight!  This would be too good to be true… if it wasn’t true right now.  But as far as I can tell, this 3D experience, involving breathing and laying on my belly on my foam pad of a bed listening to enigma as candle light flickers on the enlightened faces of my guru posse is about as real as it gets.  Not that I’m asserting its realness… No.  I’m just saying… this is about as real as I can fathom right now.

 

This morning when I was jogging Hanalei Bay, from a distance, I saw this dude taking pictures of himself.  What a narcissist, I thought… but I was tickled.  As I got closer, I saw that he was photographing himself in front of a beautiful peace sign made of vibrant orchid petals!  Though I hate to stop in the middle of a work-out (and let my heart rate drop), I HAD TO this time… For YOU.  Because I want to share my world with you.  Because it is so beautiful, so often… And you might think I’m making it all up if I don’t cough up some evidence once in a rainbow moon (someone told me today that the moon does sport a rainbow halo around here now and again!).  So this “stranger” of a man with God pouring from his smiling brown eyes, he and I photographed each other with this auspicious random, anonymous act of beauty.  It was such intimacy we shared.  And then we parted ways.  Maybe forever…  I have included the photo.

 

Now I’m gonna sign off and swan dive into my bubble gum, adolescent fantasies, dark worlds of uncharted soul secrets and the ever-arduous task of resisting the bliss of being.

 

Dear God… Please, oh PLEASE… Leap through the screen of every single reader… dive into their open eyes, make a huge, ecstatic splash in their heart, so that they feel the drunken joy of Love’s holy, eternal presence.  God!  I’m counting on you!  Please bless them all by igniting their passions and breathing infinite space into their wells of peace.  Thanks you bitchin’ All Pervader!  I love you!

 

Amen!

Moonbeams As Reflected By Irridescent Mermaid Scales

This just IN~ there IS a God, after all!!!!  For *real*…

 

Just as I sat and hunkered down to blog, the song “waterfall” by Jes poured on me [like a waterfall].  Yes, I’m playing my new favorite Pandora station~ B-Tribe. (OMG, it is so sensual and groovy.  I dare you to imbibe…) “Yeah?  So?”, I hear you wondering… Well, I began my day at Kilauea Falls this morning.  It was my first trip to a waterfall since I’ve been on the island(eight weeks today).  Strange how so many things in this life can be taken for granted when in essence, they are drop dead miraculous.  Being at the waterfall was one of these undercover miracles.

 

Mid morning.  I was alone in this lush, jungle basin, captivated by the wide, short falls.  I striped naked, said a prayer for forgiveness and the grace to remove all barriers to Love and slid into the cool, rippling pool of liquid purification and shimmering light.

 

Well, how bout this?!  I just took a languid and succulent yoga break… and when I returned to the page, I was met by a picket line!  A whole host of gnomes in drag protesting linear thinking!!!  Now, normally, I am not one to be deterred by these charming little men in pointy hats… but these angsty queens were a force to be reckoned with!  Through their mirrored, berry crush lips, they demanded that I knock off the play by play recounting of my fever-charmed existence.  Though their impressive stiletto heals are needle sharp and could take my life with one false dance step, I must confess that they *are* indeed on to something.

 

The hippopotamus-bottom line?  I feel to be a treasure trove of beauty.  Thirty years of deep sea diving, and I finally found the trunk I have been dreaming of and drooling over for millennia.  Kauai is helping me shed interminable amounts of weighty soul-stain that I picked up along my sloggish skip through eternity.

 

I have worked so long to remember.  And now I am remembering!!!!  And the song, “I Remember” is now playing on Pandora… of course.  I am remembering that I am made of Love and All is Love and I want to serve and uplift the world.  (I am also remembering that I’m pretty over beans these days.  I ate some black beans for dinner…like three hours ago… and I just got up and danced to this song because its so sexy and alive… and when I sat back down, I burped like black beans and what this means is that they are just too heavy for me.  Which is weird because I used to eat them for like every meal.  But now all I want is carrots and avocados and papayas and vitamineral green powder.  AND yerba mate with half and half and an immodest spoon of honey.  That’s the BEST ever.

 

Sure, the waterfall was a miracle.  I climbed beneath it and let it pound on me.  I thought of my blood family and I cried.  I sat on the far bank, wet and empty and watched the white water slide ceaselessly into gravity’s wide open mouth.  Sure.  And as I hiked back up the hill, I marveled at what an altered state I was in.  Felt so light and lost in dimensions they sure as hell didn’t teach me about in public school.  Yes, I have heaps of reverence for everything.  Yes.  Today was as good as I dreamed it would be last night.

 

You know what the *best* thing about all of this is?!?!  I don’t know where I’m gonna live cum November…(that’s all of three days from now) and I am fully at peace with this.  I trust in my All Pervading BFF in a way that simultaneously baffles and thrills me.  Alls I gotsta say is HOLY POPCORN!  I owe a lot of this to my diurnal attendance of Our Lady of God-Drunk Grace!  I am pouring a decadent, lucid stream of Truth with a capital T on my mind… and I am finally GETTING that it sho’ don’t matter about the external circumstances of life.  But mostly about the choice to open to Love NOW.  And now and now and now…  I know that I am on this earth to serve Love.  To Forgive.  And to raise all of my fellow travelers up with me.  Come on!  Let’s dance!  That’s what really matters.  (Although, I must say that the external surroundings here on Kauai DO help… I dunno if I’d feel this much like a rockstar if I was in dingy Tijuana or Nazi Germany… But I’ll gladly accept the alliance of tropical paradise while I can.  Sheee-it…

 

And some other-other good news is that while I was on yoga break, I wandered out to use the bathroom, and knocked over a yogurt container full of fresh flowers, which I soon learned were from WP!  In them was nestled a note that said, “Would you like to still be my writing partner?  Yes.  No.  (circle one)”  AWE!  I was afraid he’d never want to talk to me (real, anyway), let alone be my WP… Of course I still want to be your writing partner, WP!!!!  And thank you for the flowers!

 

So you see, God exists, and I feel like a swirling pool of moonbeams as reflected by irridescent mermaid scales, elegant strands of black pearls resting sexy-artistic on collarbones dressed in soft, sun kissed flesh, rapturous heavenly bodies making love on satin sheets in sensuous, nocturnal tropical heat…  I feel like breath moving with the ease of spring rivers pouring down lush, crisp mountain sides, strong, masculine hands squeezing supple squish of tender inner thighs.

 

God?  Thank you for escorting me thus far.  Please make me pure, empty and overflowing, that I may spill your Grace upon this world.  Please God!!  Thank you God!

 

Amen.

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