Living the Life of My Dreams: Yes I Dare!

I finally received the sign that I was asking for last week!?!?!  How do I know?  Obvious, I FELT it.  Honestly, we humans have a tendency to make shit so complicated… when REALLY our feelings will tell us the truth every time.  As I sat in church listening to Terry McBride passionately remind each of us of our divine MAGNIFICENCE, my body reverberated with unmistakable aliveness.  My attention was single pointed.  Presence was effortless.  (I felt the same as the choir SANG!  Fuck can they SING!!!  I swear, they make me cry every time.  And I love looking at their diverse, shining, holy faces.  So many stories, emotions, experiences, hopes and dreams.  So many colors and shapes and expressions of light!  You would be AMAZED!!!)  He told us that we are each the living Christ, NOW(meaning we are divine children, fashioned from the very potent fabric of the All Pervading Light that is this Universe).  There’s nothing we must do in order to earn this innate privilege.  Yes, my mind shook and trembled under the weight of his bold stance.  He said he’s not a proponent of the school of “go with the flow”.  Nope… Unless the flow happens to be going where HE wants to go.  Otherwise he will change it.

I have been toiling in this very inquiry of how much is my life is up to God, circumstance, destiny, fate, flow… and how much is it my right, responsibility, privilege to engage my individual will and CAUSE my life?  Believe me, this inquiry fucks my mind every single time… and not in an even remotely erotic sense.  I have been plenty tumbled and pummeled by the waves of life, victimishly billowing in breezes that seem to be but a ceaseless stream of miraculous, haphazard chaos, in my thirty years this time around.  And frankly, it BLOWS.  But hearing this unabashed, vital, bold, sixty six year old man who survived a spinal infection that was “supposed to” be fatal, who survived more than twenty surgeries throughout his twenties, doctors telling him to “be realistic”… this man standing before me, fully present, alive, HEALTHY and adamantly conveying a message of personal power to every single human being who has the interest in waking up to our innate, divine power…

What?  Well, his stand certainly stirred up some dis-ease in me.  These teachings of infinite personal power demand a high-assed level of responsibility for one’s dreams, beliefs and actions.  Damn.  Wow.  Yes.  But beneath all the waves of mental conflict caused by the clash of limiting beliefs grating on an invitation to step into a life of liberated choice, passion and vision, the bottom line?  I FELT WIDE ALIVE as he spoke.  And that is how I ALWAYS want to feel.  And I don’t see why I can’t. (As soon as I wrote that, the all too familiar voices of social conditioning flooded in to convince me that that is WAY too much to ask, who do I think I am, life is suffering, I must tolerate… blah, blah, blah… WHO DO I THINK I AM????  I AM GOD.  And so are YOU.)  There are so many thought forms floating around trying to convince us that we have to settle for less… that we must acquiesce to being victims of circumstance much of the time… Nope.  We don’t.  Stay tuned, because I’m rolling up my sleeves and walking the walk.

You know what I’m fucking sick of?  All the collective beliefs we hold in this culture about aging.  We anticipate all the creaks and groans of our withering bones before they even hit.  As soon as they wink their first traces of arrival, we righteously affirm them as our birthright and destiny.  Terry McBride proudly announced that he is sixty six years alive, and all vitality.  Reverend Elouise is like eighty two…  And she too refuses to succumb to these stupid ideas about being physically and mentally limited by the number of times her human vehicle has circumnavigated our resplendent olde friend the sun.  Hell YES!  Let’s dare to flourish till we drop!!!  I have always been so enthused about aging… I imagine that I’ll just get deeper, richer, tastier, like high quality wine or cheese.  But now I see that there is even some bullshit lurking in THAT idea… because it wreaks of a subtle message that I am not DEEP, RICH and TASTY [enough] right NOW!!!  Funk that!  I am done with not being enough right here and now.

I am through with my extended holiday on the isle of existential crisis.  There is too much life to celebrate, NOW.  There are far too many blessings to bestow, NOW.  And certainly there are a pant load too many miracles to bear witness to, NOW!!!  I am ready to love my life.  I am ready to stand in and as the infinite power of a hella fresh, generous, all pervading God in the face of ANYTHING and EVERYTHING.

All I Really Have Is My Truth

I dunno if I’m gonna publish this one… although I want to… but I really need the freedom to say whatever I want to say about my relationship with M without feeling [too] guilty.  Guilt. GUILT!!!  I can see why people get cancer.  Carrying around all this guilt is toxic.  Most of my thoughts lately are about letting go of him.  Last week or the week before I expressed them and all it did was create this big, emotionally volatile mess… The pain I felt seemed like too much to bear, so I decided to try holding all my feelings in.  Honestly, it’s a little more bearable, but far from sustainable.  He keeps telling me how much he loves me… and talking about our future together.  Like for example, this morning he said that when the weather gets warmer, we should try drinking Chardonnay, because it tasted surprisingly good to him last night at dinner with his parents (I stayed home)… And I thought, yeah right… when the weather gets warmer, Mythena (the name of our relationship) will be dead and buried.  But hmmmm… Chardonnay, Athena!  Might be worth sticking it out until summer time…

I don’t know what else to say about it.  Why don’t I want to be with him?  One day I just woke up and the inspiration was gone.  All of these little things, chipping away at my commitment and devotion.  Honestly, comparing him to E was a huge catalyst.  Aside from the sex, life with E was way better.  Ladies, I recommend the tall, skinny scientistic outdoorsman!  He is loyal, fun loving, fucking funny, generous, easy going, sharp as fuck, and his heart is peaceful and sweet through and through.(oh and great oral skills if you ask me…)  Snap him up!!!  Ahem.  So for a while I was pretty sure that I just wanted to get back together with E and that’s what this was about.  But then I woke the fuck up and realized that I am a crazy bitch for sure, and this is not about finding the “perfect relationship”… This is about healing myself.  Which I suppose IS finding the perfect relationship.  INSIDE.  I know, I know, I can almost hear you~ “Can’t you find that while you’re IN relationship?”… and the answer is of course… probably.  But the other answer is I don’t want to.  I can hear judgment voices screaming away in my head… telling me that I quit everything and that I will NEVER be enough until I commit myself to something.  And I am so tempted to believe them.  That’s right fuckers~ you are getting to me… are you happy now?  Are you satisfied??? You are getting the best of me.  NOW WHAT???

Well, the most auspicious and beautiful news is that in addition to that worn thin self critical voice, I am hearing another, more gentle voice.  It is telling me that my path is perfect, and my learning is right on schedule.  It tells me that my compass isn’t broken after all (!!!), and that God is the quintessential relationship, the ONE to invest in a lifetime subscription to…  Now you might want to argue that one cannot possibly separate the Divine Relationship from human relationships.  You might have a very intimidating and convincing soap box that is demanding that human relationships are potent access points to that way more esoteric divine relationship.  Hmmm…  Yes… I can’t deny that.  I won’t deny that.  But I’ll also say that for a thirty year old woman who has been in one very clingy, co-dependant relationship or another (two, back to back, to be precise) since she was twenty three, that it’s beyond fuckin’ healthy for her to find HER edges, independent of another…

Oh dear, this writing is getting so blasted heavy.  It’s freesia season!  They are bursting from the thawing ground (just being poetic, the ground in Oakland does not thaw…) EVERYWHERE!!!  I thought of it because there is a copious, ostentatious bouquet of them here at 504.  Are they yellow?  Orange?  Gold?  They seem to defy all labels, save VIBRANT.  They are as vibrant as Christ himself.  Christ.  That’s a welcome subject change.  Jesus Christ.  Have you ever heard of this thing called “Christ consciousness”?  Well, supposedly there is this light that lives inside us, and we can reach it within our own minds.  Every single one of us.  Zero exceptions.  It is here, now and the only reason we haven’t noticed is because we’re way too interested in all the hoopla that our egos generate in our minds.  But omnipresent, it rests, eternally.  IN ME.  IN YOU.  And chances are that “you” and “me” don’t even exist in this psychedelic sphere of luminous realization.  And this frustrates the FUCK out of me, because I am so close, yet so far away.  I sit down to meditate every day… and my mind won’t shut the fuck up about what I want to eat for stupid breakfast.  As if stupid breakfast is more important than bathing in love’s eternal light.  Fuck and a half.  But I keep trying.  And one day, the miracle will accost my tired olde ego out of nowhere.  And I will remember what I have always known.  And this will happen to you too.  Even if you think meditation is stupid, or boring or for only for “those” types of people.  The miracle, the light, might swoop down upon you even if you’ve never meditated a lick in your whole life.  Even if you think meditation is only for people who subscribe to trendy “isms”, or have nothing better to do with themselves.  You never fucking know.  But what I do know is that the reality of oneness and light is way more true than all this illusion of division and multiplicity and never ending stream of problems…  Believe me…

Or don’t.  It doesn’t really matter WHAT you believe.  The light is indiscriminant and all pervasive… and IT wants YOU.  (Now imagine Uncle Sam pointing his dirty bone of a finger at your transient, illusory physical form…)

I’m so excited about lunch. Everybody in this café is indulging in sensory delights.  Cappuccinos and lattes made with rich, creamy and hella humane Strauss milk… and as if that’s not exciting enough… the dude sharing the table with me got two poached eggs (shaped like spring leaves!) with toasted baguette, jam and thick, darling orange slices… As I type this, he slathers his second half of bread with butter and strawberry jam and then the symphonic, sonic revelation as he crunches down into it’s tough crustiness!  Mastication.  As fulfilling and necessary as masturbation.  Honestly.  But both of those fulfilling necessities reinforce the deep seated and false belief that this existence is the be-all, end-all.  Which it’s not.  I realize that this might rub some of you the wrong way.  Tough.  Can you imagine if I made it my business to rub ALL OF YOU the right way, all the time?  I can… because I’ve spent a good deal of life trying to do that.  And trust me, it is exhausting and not nearly as rewarding as it’s cracked up to be.

So, in conclusion~ I am having a hard time letting go, I want to know myself as an independent single woman and most of all, I want GOD to be my BFF, but one of us has been too shy… Not sure if it’s me or God… But either way, there comes a time in a woman’s life when she has no choice to storm the… oh shoot, I forget the rest of the expression.  Storm the… Well, I guess punch lines and clichés are not my forte.  Win some, lose some.  Hey, that’s a cliché, isn’t it?!