Good News. Bad News. Life. Death. And Always LOVE.

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I’ll start with the good news– I am madly in love with Serena lately.  She’s so damn cute and smart and… good.  Within the last week, she’s started walking!  She does gratuitous laps around the house, just for practice, wobbling like a drunken sailor.  I’m amazed by her tireless, perpetual motion.  I can tell she’s so proud of herself.  What a feat!  And God, she’s just such a happy person.  Happy and innocent and willing.  My heart feels marvelously crushed.  We made a pilgrimage to Auburn (an hour drive each way) yesterday to apply for passports.  (God willing, we are going to Bali this summer with Cosmic Dad!!!)  The whole drive, she was content and peaceful.  She held her new little stuffed bunny, and she kept saying “Soft.  Soft.  Soft.”  And “Eye.  Eye.  Eye.” (pointing to his eye)   And “Lap.  Lap.  Lap.” (She had him on her lap…)  Such a stimulating conversationalist!

It wasn’t too long ago that I was pulling my hair out and shaking my fist at the sky and wondering why in Grace’s good name I chose to be a mama.  I think because we were both stretching together, and let’s face it– sometimes stretching is uncomfortable.  Sometimes it can even make you tear and bleed and require copious amounts of stitches and a two night and three day “vacation” at the hospital.  (Yes, I’m talking about Serena’s birth.)  But now we have stretched into a space of heavenly resonance and relative ease.  Of course it is fleeting.  But all the more reason to enJOY it.

And speaking of stretching, now for the “bad news”.  While we were waiting for our turn to apply for passports, we “bipped” over to Target because I had a gift card and wanted to try on denim shorts.  Holy Lord in Heaven.  I looked AWFUL  in the dressing room mirrors.  And this is *not* something that I would normally say… because I have worked so hard to heal my self image and love my body.  But fuck.  My skin looked loose and lumpy and squished in gross places.  How in fuck’s name do they expect anyone to BUY anything when the glaring lights and soul-sucking ambiance make you look and feel so UGLY?    

Whoa.  This calls for a massive deep breath.  Because what a terrible thing to commit to a blank page.  Especially as a goddess and leader of the Love Revolution.  But sometimes a goddess just gotsta be honest!  It was traumatizing.  And confusing, too… because I’m almost back to the weight that I was before I got pregnant.  I was one twenty five… and now I’m one twenty eight or nine, depending on the time of day, size of my last meal and amount of exercise I’ve had.  Maybe that mirror was a government conspiracy in action.  Yeah, that’s probably it.  And listen, don’t misinterpret my share.  I’m not suffering about any of it.  It’s more of a fascination with the kaleidoscopic, psychedelic nature of perception.

And then there’s my dear, sweet mama… Her body is now a modest pile of ashes stowed away in the ornately carved, wooden chest I inherited from her when she ditched this crazy planet last month.  Ok, you’re right, the PLANET is not crazy.  She’s actually very sane.  It’s us damn HUMANS that are the nuts!  When I was doing mountains of paperwork at Chapel of the Angels, the mortuary where my Ma’s body was cremated, one form stated that they perform a separate process beyond burning, to pulverize the big chunks of bone that are left… Ha!  And I had to inscribe my initials alongside said statement to indicate that this was permissible by me!  Like, “Yes, I am aware that you will be pulverizing my mom’s bones after you burn her, and it’s totally groovy.”  SILLY!!!

In retrospect, I wish that I had’ve said NO!  I would’ve loved for her ashes to be laced with bone chunks… I could make jewelry out of them.  And arrange them with the crystals and river stones on my panoply of altars.  Am I being serious, or kidding?  Yeah… I’m not quite sure either.

But one thing I KNOW is that my Ma is laughing with me about her hopelessly pulverized bones.

And since we’re on the subject… how am I doing with the whole losing my Ma thang?  Not too bad.  When she was still alive, I used to imagine what it would be like when she was gone, and whimper to her about how much I’d miss her, and how it would suck ass not to be able to talk with her and laugh with her (and even get irritated with her!), daily.  Her immediate response was always, “I’ll still be with you.”  I hated this!  Like, easy for YOU to say, Woman, YOU’RE not the one who will be left behind!  The last thing you need to hear when facing the crushing reality of impermanence, is some woo-woo, conceptual, spiritual band-aid.

But she was right. (Did you hear that Ma???!!!)  She is still right here.  And her oh-so-elegant swan dive into the seductive pool of Infinity has transformed my perception of life and death and God and my Self.  I remember this particularly cray-zay angel I once knew, Hal… He used to say “the cat is alive AND dead”… or some sort of hippy, acid-head koan like that.  I never had any idea what the fuck he was talking about.  Until my mom left.  And now I feel that she is here.  And I am “there”.  And Time is a strange dream that *seems* to divide our limitless Self into a finite notion for a fleeting mOMent.  I know some part of you knows what the hell I’m saying.  Because we are all so immense.  But we must feign smallness as we wander this oddball dreamscape.  Or must we?…

I appreciate the spiritual expansion that my Ma gifted me in her passing.  It’s a relief.  To feel so intimate with Infinity… (while still completely riveted in and by this human dream)…

The day before she died, she reminisced about being at my dad’s dad (my grandpa)’s deathbed… His parting words were, “It’s all a mystery to me…”  She said he appeared truly befuddled.  I LOVE this!!!  I mean, his words sure do sum it up!!!… I have finally arrived at a vista of my existence, where I feel crystalline relief at the Mystery of it all.  I’ve exhausted myself enough times, trying to muscle through and do it (Life) MY way… Only to be disappointed, devastated, destroyed.  I finally get it.  Life/God is waaay more qualified to captain this ship.  Athena Grace just gets to be First Mate, whose primary task is TO LOVE.

…And to write it all down!  With eloquence, honesty, poetic persuasion and humor.  It’s actually a pretty cool arrangement.

Things that go “Fuck” in the Night

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Things that go FUCK in the night.  An essay by Athena Grace LMNOP.  Yes, lately I have been going “fuck” in the night… and I feel slightly ashamed to admit it.  Serena goes through cycles where she sleeps amazing– I put her to bed around 7:30, in her pack n play.  She sleeps soundly until 2 or 3am.  Then she calls to me, and I scoop her up and nestle her into my bed, where she nurses and we both drift back into cozy slumber… for about two hours… Then I nurse her some more, imbibe one more delicious wave of sleep, and then get up, make tea and have the most (potentially) delicious, lucid “Me Time” for an hour or two if I’m lucky (half an hour or less, if I’m fleetingly damned).

But for the last couple of weeks, she’s been having her first wake up somewhere between ten and eleven pm.  And then waking every two hours (ish) after that.  I thought she might be teething… or at least having a juicy brain growth spurt… So I coached myself to have a generous attitude.  But no new teeth yet… and my arms are going uncomfortably numb again from the excessive side-lying nursing.  I’m tired.  And yes, flooded with helplessness and frustration, I find myself going “fuck” in the night.

But that is the end of that essay.  Short and sweet.  A flame-trailing line drive down the third base line.  I’m taking the turn…. sliding into second… SAFE!!!!

Tragically, I was never a great softball player… I’m too much of a pansy.  But God, I can feel the latent satisfaction in being a skillful and aggressive player.  *Smacking* the ball solid with my bat (I have recurring dreams about this), owning the bases, fearlessly fielding smokin’ grounders, hurling the ball with fierce warrioresse accuracy… I guess I’ll have to express these edifying energies in other (diamond shaped) domains of my life.

I haven’t been writing much about motherhood here in Athena Graceland… I felt like I should be… Until I (just now) did.  Then I realized why I don’t…. I am mom every second of every day… except for two hours on tuesdays when I am “yoga teacher”.  “Awesome yoga teacher”, at that!  And for an hour in the morning, I am “writer”.  And I don’t really feel to blather on and on about my (AMAZING) baby, because she will soon enough awaken and require EVERYTHING.  Which I mostly relish giving.

I’d rather blather about my stupid relationship!!!  Is that dumb or WHAT???  I vote YES on measure D for Dumb.  But that doesn’t stop me from expressing what there is to express.  I write from FEELING.  It heals me.  And helps me make the treacherous climb from my sniveling small self, into my soaring, winged, triumphant Being of Light Self.

I’m not officially in a Relationship anymore… we have mutually opted out.  But it’s such an excruciating process to starve the ravenous, slobbery beast inside me, who subsists on energetic ties to Ed.  She is so fierce, and really causes a stir when she is not fed.  Time and again, I reach out for him… hoping to surge with decadent feelings of affinity and fullness…. and… they just aren’t available anymore.  It’s more like me sprinting into the electric fence, getting knocked backward onto my scrawny ass, and then copping a massive, childish attitude because I’m not getting what I want.

I FEEL SO “ENDARKENED”!!!  So immature.  I love this experience of “breaking through” (the flashy, new-age verbiage for “breaking up”)… because it is revealing remarkably unflattering angles of me!  In the past, I would have beat myself up over not being “perfect”.  No longer.  I am DONE believing that there is anything but God, disguised in all characters, scenarios, feelings… EVERYWHERE.  Let’s get Real.  Is HeSheIt Omnipresent, or NOT???

Yeah, that’s right.  Omnipresent doesn’t leave room for much else.  Even if it must encompass darkness, childish behavior and global atrocities.  Shrug.  It’s a zany lila.  But declaring the all-pervading presence of the Good Lord WILL DELIVER US.  And I am playing my essential part in this impending Ascension.  But Jesus… My role entails so many uncomfortable feelings.  Thirty six and three quarter years into this Athena Grace thang, I’m getting good at recognizing the “Still Small Voice” (the voice of Infinite Wisdom) within me.  It tells me that Ed and I were so powerfully attracted, because we were Destined to give Serena life.  Mission accomplished.  And now my infinite stream of happily ever after is flowing elsewhere, and there’s no need to suffer about this.

But I am suffering about this.  Because I had lucid fever dreams of US playing house and being together forever.  A stubborn-as-fuck piece of me insists on clutching to a few lousy, stale crumbs of fulfillment.  Moldy crumbs that make me sick.  Yet I cherish them.  And even though I know I deserve WAY BETTER, I still love the one in me who fights to the death for these toxic, jagged crumbs!!!  And I honor the Divine in her.

Day by arduous day, freedom quietly unravels in my clenched, frightened heart.  I have little (ecstatic) tastes of full surrender.  I feel washes of soul-fulfillment as I inhabit the Life that lives through me.  So many moments of crushingly beautiful music and dancing, evocative light and resplendent friendship… Moments upon blessed moments of delight as Serena’s Lila Graces me. (That was a play on words.  Her full name is “Serena Lila Grace”.  I’m clever.)

I have this perpetual gnawing conflict as I write…. I thirst to become a “famous writer”.  But I imagine that I will have to edit, refine, distill, direct my expression in order to do so.  And I don’t want to!!  I want to be FREE.  I want to show up here in Athena Graceland with no holds barred.  I want to say it all.  Without concern for if it is good enough, or refined enough or ENOUGH enough… I want to be as goddamn superlative and excessively expressive as I feel to.  Even if it means that I have to get paid minimum wage to bake goddamn (delicious) quiches, make (epic) soup and clean houses for the rest of eternity.  God, I’m stubborn.

Maybe someday I’ll change.

But today, I am me.  Today I am free.  I type what I must… and I breathe.

I remember that this is as God as it gets.

And yet…

There truly is no end to how brightly we can shine.

The best is yet to come.

Love is the Way.

I am willing to die (a gazillion times) to all other notions.

And be birthed into Love Itself, a gazillion more…

Inhale.  Exhaaaale.

Amen.

The Ultimate Soul Workout

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Life begins the day you realize it’s meant to be hard.

At least for ME, that’s how it went down.

Being an etherial new-age baby, I struggled a bunch, clutching a dazzling-law-of-attraction-belief that Life was supposed to be easy… and then meeting so many unwieldy mOMents, and intense feelings, and not knowing what to do or be to make my Life submit and behave in the way of ease.  God, it is such an uphill climb.

The crucial point lurking in this hypothesis though, is that at a soul level, this sloppy, unwieldy struggle one of the Heavenly Lord’s all-time greatest boons.  To incarnate in this arduous dimension is heavyweight strength training!  Who wants to be a gorgeous, sparkling, winged mirage, fluttering insouciantly about in a revealed rendition of Heaven… when you could be attending the BEST costume party in the galaxy… suiting up in a nice dense meat sack and pushing figurative boulders up custom-fashioned metaphorical mountains, developing sweet, spiritual six-packs and bulging biceps of the soul?  We really have our priorities dialed in, down here on earth.

Plus, we get to drink tea and coffee!!!  I bet that is the tipping point for many incarnate angels.

Lately, I’ve been having a hot and heavy wonder what it would be like to inhabit my Life with a relaxed internal poise… a *genuine* and full bodied acceptance of the reality in which I marinate.  Because mostly, there’s this whole consuming layer of experience that occurs like agitation.  Like the cursed grain of sand inside the holy oyster shell of my existence.  A destructive, gnawing idea that I’m partially living the WRONG life.  Just partially.  There are SOME elements that are oh-so-right… Really key ones~ like that I’m Athena Grace… and that I have the *most* awesome baby girl.  Now that I’m endeavoring to articulate it, I realize that I LOOOOVE who I AM… I’m just struggling with the process of ACTUALIZING the raw blueprint of my soul.  And searching for that deep sense of Belonging, of hOMe.  God, I hope there’s a phat pink pearl in the works…

And hence, we come full circle to the opening statement of this gloriously enlightened stream of words~ this is the resistance training that I enthusiastically came to partake in.  How to be this AWESOME, luminous heavenly body IN A MEAT SUIT, and masterfully sculpt Infinite Light into a soul-satisfying, consciousness-liberating, Love-revealing, integrity-infused, breath-giving work of sacred art.  I mean think about it… doesn’t that sound like the BEST vacation for God to take???  Yeah.  Totally.

But in the mean time, here I am… wishing I had the utterly fabulous Partner by my side.  A loving, devoted father for Serena.  I am haunted by visions of being a powerful, spiritual leader and a beloved and widely read writer of grace-stained words that liberate ALL HEARTS.  Feeling stuck in this cloistered spiritual community in the woods, that though wrought with kindness, safety and even friendship… isn’t the path that ignites passion in my heart, or pure resonance in my soul.  I feel guilty typing that… because God… people here have embraced me beyond what I could have hoped for.  Typing that made my eyes sting.  Lemme take a deepie (breath)… and really let this Grace sink in.

Lately, I’ve been asking myself how I’d define Grace… Because it’s my last name, for God’s sake!  And it’s like the air we breathe… invisible, and something we don’t even have to think about… because it’s always nearer to us than our own selves… But… it’s still handy to have a distinguished notion of this essential and beneficent ISness.

Grace…

It’s the Invisible Oceanic Goodness in which we ARE.  We don’t have to earn it… and we couldn’t escape it if we tried.  The tricky part, is that Grace is responsible not only for that which we deem “good” in our lives, but the “bad” stuff too. Under the inescapable, psychedelic umbrella of Grace, EVERYTHING we live is Divinity in action, and is conspiring for the outrageous and triumphant unfurling revelation of the sublime heavenly light within us.

I guess that’s why Hafiz wrote this poem:

Running

Through the streets

Screaming,

Throwing rocks through windows,

Using my own head to ring

Great bells,

Pulling out my hair,

Tearing off my clothes,

Tying everything I own

To a stick,

And setting it on

Fire.

What else can Hafiz do tonight

To celebrate the madness,

The joy,

Of seeing God

Everywhere!

Sigh… Grace is God.  And God is ALL… And yet, knowing all this, I am still perched cozily on my couch in the pale light of dawn, wondering how in the heck to make my life what I want it… digging so deep to crack the code of the mystifying dynamism between effort and surrender.  Is my Destiny inevitable???  Or is it true what Tori Amos told my ex-fiance, the night we met her, shining like a riveting Goddess Mirage?  He asked her, “Do you believe in Destiny?”

Her reply~ “She needs your help.”

I want to help Her…

I want to bench press the World in the name of Love.  In the name of giving EVERYTHING to liberate the flame of passion that burns inside me, such that it ignites the World in holy celebration.

This is the “meaning of Life”.  And it is supposed to be hard!

But it is the most gratifying workout in Existence.

The Evolution of My Desire

I have been marveling lately at how dramatically my dreams are morphing.  Two entries ago, I was pining for a hOMe, and motherhood and the ideal partnership… And today, I am remarkably content with the current ISness of my existence.  I am back at Ananda Village, living with my Ma, teaching yoga here, facilitating a women’s video circle, and continuing to ROCK my inner world as I shed hereditary darkness and allow the light to pour through.  Layers of delusion keep sloughing off, and I realize that I am becoming lighter and happier by the second.

At the epicenter of this transformation, is the remembrance that I am alive for humanity.  And for LOVE…  When I imagined that I was alive to satisfy my ego, I felt mostly fucked in the ass by my very existence.  Like it was never enough.  I was perpetually empty.  But now purifying my heart and opening myself to be a Source of Love is the place that I return throughout my day.  And it just makes sense.  Am I proclaiming to be all holier than Thou, like I’m some damn Master?  No!  Because the REAL activism is loving myself for who and how I am now, today… The one who aspires from the depths of her being.  The one who sometimes *seems* to fall short.  The one who keeps going.  The one who boldly declares her love to the world… perhaps imperfectly… but also with courage and boldness.

Yeah!  I’m here to wrap those stifling spiritual ISMs and dogmas and nutritionally void protocols in a dingy though grand olde flag, and send them down the wild, swollen river, once and for all.  If you’re still using spirituality to find fault in yourself as you ARE, to imagine a grand chasm between yourself and God, I’m here to tell you that is a dead paradigm!  It’s time to live what you know in your heart, to own that God is not a big, stern man who lives beyond the sky… but the miraculous Allness, experiencing itself as YOU and me and everyone and everything right NOW.  And this is whole, complete and perfect, and is a cause to love like there ain’t no tomorrow!!!!

So what do I desire, from this place of radical completeness?  My biggest desire at this time, is to completely embody the light of spirit.  To obliterate shame and conditioning and the inherited wounds of my ancestors… and let the light of the Infinite Blaze through every cell and pore and fiber of my magnificent Heavenly Body!!!  It seems like the dominant paradigm has been a body and spirit split… like we’ve collectively been through so much shit.  So much pain and suffering, that we’ve imagined the body to be an unsafe hOMe, wrought with land mines of stored trauma, preferring instead to live in the intrepid sprawling landscapes of the mind, where we can fabricate fever dreams of our own “safety” without having to feel through the sensations that we once upon a time, associated with unbearable pain and terror.

I want to inhabit my body as I have never inhabited it before.  I want to inhabit my sexuality free from shame, as nothing short of a glorious portal straight into the heart of Heaven.  This is not an indulgent want, but an essential reclaiming of the truth of who I AM.  I know that being a living embodiment of pure truth and light is the epicenter of all other dreams and desires that sing through me.  If my desires are a multi tiered fountain, this radical return of infinite spirit into my body is the WATER.  It will naturally pour forth and nourish all the slumbering seeds of my destiny with ease and grace.  No more inner wars and parental punishment to manipulate myself into PRODUCING content that will desperately imbue my life and my very being with a false sense of worth that will temporarily convince me I am “okay”, in the face of the constant low-level dread that I’m NOT.  Ever.

Love will make this so.  Every day, every breath, I return to love.  I fill my own heart with the grace of the infinite.  I breathe all the way to the bottom of my belly, into my yoni, and feeeeel all there is to feel.  I allow myself to relax.  To soften.  And from this place of unrelenting care, attention, and embodied surrender,  I will continue to shed and reveal and attract the perfect people and situations and opportunities to facilitate this profound resurrection of the radiant light of my spirit into the sacred temple of my body.  (Which naturally will blaze out into the world and raise YOU up in the light of embodied Truth…)

Seek ye first the Queendom of Heaven….

Let There Be LIGHT!!!!

Hello!!! I am delighted to be sending tendrils of my sacred existence into your holy consciousness!!! It’s been too long. Way too long. And praise the Lord, I have been working my ass off. Yes, literally too… but that’s not what I want to talk about. I want to tell you about all of the inner work I have been doing… Yeah, I mean like straight up rearranging furniture inside, and tossing entire closetfuls overboard, because it’s way too heavy and I want to live a life of streaming, opulent blessedness. And if you want to live a life of streaming, opulent blessedness, you can’t be lugging around cumbersome and unwieldy limiting beliefs, unexamined fears and past hurts.

Some of the deep questions I’ve been arduously wrastling for so long are now transmuted into rarefied illumination. Questions regarding what my life is for, and who I AM, and how much I can be, do and have…

Gosh, I felt like I was drearily slogging up the craggy face of an endless mountain… trying to maintain SOME semblance of a positive attitude as I climbed… But I really wondered if I’d ever make it to the dewy, flower-dripping land of worthiness and honest to goodness God-drunk grace… I honestly doubted it. But not entirely, I s’pose… because I kept going. And I still keep going. I will always keep going! But I feel a deep shift.

In July of twenty thirteen, I gave up my stale-assed job and a rad apartment in The Land of Oaks, put my meager belongings in storage, and pilgrimaged to Ananada Village (aka “The Momshram”) to do my fourth yoga teacher training. Thus commenced a year long purification intensive. Yep, a year of groundlessness. My roots, not being able to sink down into the earth, have been forced to grow in and up, into the celestial soils of heaven within.

Don’t ask me how many times in this past year, people have asked me, “where do you live?”, and I’ve inwardly flailed and cringed…. because I WANT to live somewhere… besides the elusive territory of celestial soils… besides “in my heart”, or “in the moment”, as spiritually hip as those addresses seem in theory. I have pined for a hOMe. A place where I can concoct healing bone broths, grow a garden and have sex as loud and as often as I please.

I have suffered about the seeming gap between where I have been, and where I am. And the uncertainty and lack of faith as to how to bridge the said ravine.

But from where I sit today, (which happens to be an exquisitely lush and well-attended garden) I am no longer concerned by the illusion of distance. I realize that I have been polishing the temple of my Self with a capital S. I have been obliterating darkness, revealing the glorious, infinite light of my Innermost Ness. LIGHT!!!! Yes!!!! Once upon a time, I was repulsed by the potential of being labeled “new agey”. Because the people who I perceived to be new agey were etheric, glazed FLAKES!! Straight up. They seemed to hover a few feet off the ground, shrouded in a cloud of nebulous ambiguity. Ugh. Yeah, I guess it was too close to hOMe. It has taken EVERYTHING I’ve had… to BE HERE. On the ground. On the ground, where intense feelings happen…pretty often… and gravity makes me bleed and sweat and cry on occasion. On the ground, where I’ve felt alone and confused and afraid at times…

But all those earthly forces have called forth the strength of my spirit. And an inner force of gravity called faith. Called determination. Called digging down into the taproot of Truth. Hey, look! A butterfly!!!! And the late-morning sunlight filtering through green maple leaves has become the stained glass of an unsayably magnificent, wall-less temple. As I perch in this extraordinary moment, this miraculous, rolling slice of my life, I am happy to sing out from the mountaintop:

I AM A HELLA NEW AGE CHICK!!!!!!

And proud of it!!! I worship, celebrate, invite, magnify the Infinite Light within me, and ALL LIFE. I looooove crystals! I talk to the angels, and my spirit guides. I deeply honor and give thanks for the plethora of beneficent, unseen forces who guide us through this condensed vibration of infinite spirit. I live for love. I pledge allegiance to the oneness, the unity of all creation, and Beyond.

And I’m done pretending otherwise.

I have been giving birth to my Self, over this past year. And trust me, I know that birth is INTENSE to say the least. Painful? Sometimes!!!! Entirely worth it? Absolutely. Oooh!!!! A teensy blue dragonfly!!!! Ahem.

So how did I finally ground into this place of ecstatic strength? Self discipline. By using my mind as a tool to shape and direct my consciousness. I finally beat my head against the wall, trampled upon my sweet tender heart one too many times. I realized I am the boss here, and I want to do it (all of it) with and through the strength of LOVE. I choose to place my faith in the infinite, creative supply of the universe. I choose gratitude. I choose worthiness. I choose a life of passionate, creative, inspired, joyful service!!! I choose to THRIVE. I choose to love life. I choose to BE THE LIGHT OF THE WORLD. I choose to TRUST MY HEART, and boldly sing out what I know inside to be true. I choose to believe I am WHOLE, now and always, as I continue to gleefully unfurl my divine potential. I choose to believe in miracles. I choose to love ALL as my divine sisters and brothers. I choose to forgive and forgive and forgive some more!!! I choose to be an overflowing cup of beauty and grace.

Dang… I’m feeling so pumped, and I’m not even caffeinated. It sure feels good to feel good. Care to join me?!

Miraculous love to you, my Friends…

Purgatory: It’s Not Just For Catholics Anymore!

I think the catholics gave purgatory a bad name. It’s actually kind of a sweet place. Not that I recommend it. Not that I’m even enjoying it. But I’m inhabiting it. And now that I am aware that this is where I am, I am opening myself to the possibility of falling in love with it. Purgatory. It’s that no-woman’s-land between heaven and hell. Like hanging out in a broken elevator that plays jazz so smooth, if you hooked it up to an EKG machine, the line would be reminiscent of a horizon slicing across a sky and sea so vast, it could be misconstrued as infinity.

But don’t let the elevator music fool you. It is anything but bland inside ME, as I mill about in this forsaken somewhere inside me, like a cow preparing to birth a handful of wet, spindly calves. My heart feels mostly broken. Sigh. I guess that’s how the light shines through. Sometimes…

And now, my beloved Devis and Devas, Athena Grace LMNOP shall explain what she means when she says she is in purgatory. Well… Yesterday I realized that I don’t know where I “belong”. Spending nine weeks in an ashram in the woods, I have become hyper-sensitized to all of the noise and energy and excessive, senseless motion of the urban environment. “Well, then,” you say, “why don’t you just move your sensitive little butt to Ananda, Mrs. Grace, and live with the God-loving yogis?” Well… maybe I will. But when I imagine being here full time… I panic in anticipation of all this incessant calmness. See? I’m in an unsolvable awkward phase. All I can really do is endure. And keep taking the step that reveals itself from this disorienting dark.

I’m feeling sorry for myself right now, can you tell? Someone PLEASE slap me. I am not here to be self indulgent. So be raw, yes. To be naked, yes. To share… but not to wallow. It’s just that not only do I feel like a cow being swatted along toward the slaughterhouse, as I prepare to return to the Bay Area and fumble into some new chapter of reality, but I also saw a picture of my ex-fiance snuggled under warm covers, holding his three day old son to his chest… and it shattered me. My heart erupted like a volcano of so many contradictory emotions: my own profound LONGING to be a mother, and devastation that it seems SO FUCKING FAR AWAY FOR ME, sadness that he chooses not to include me in his life (yes, I own that I broke his heart when I left him for another man…), joy for him, because I feel him to be truly happy and having what he wants in his life and plus, he’ll be the best dad ever, shame for feeling anything but happy for him and his wife, pure awe for the deep, open love that was transmitted through the photo… I fell to my knees and sobbed for a while. Shrug. Such is life. And so I type these words with a raw and bleeding heart. I just told Ed in a text that I would kill myself right now, if I believed it would solve anything. But I know it won’t. So I march on. He told me to remember God… and I was like “Oh yeah…” (Holding onto the awareness of God seems like clutching at a slippery soap with wet hands!) See, that’s why I keep him around. Because he is a pro at feeding me back my own medicine at just the right moments.

God… Please envelope my slashed, aching heart in your miraculous, healing love now….

I realized this morning that I can’t remember the last time I felt really, purely “happy”… Not that I haven’t… I’ve just been so busy transforming. And I’m thinking that maybe my definition of happiness is transforming with me. It’s like… well… more of a subtle, sober quietness, than a bone-rattling, skin-ripping high. But then… it’s not like I’m perpetually streaming with zen mellowness. I’m still managing to cry all the time. And yet, I feel that there is a deepening experience of myself taking root. Like more of a consistent contentment in the quiet spaces. I can’t say for sure… because I’m still dissolving. But I know that beneath the struggle, something beautiful is emerging.

Wow. I just stained the page with a big spill from the chalice of my heart. And then I took the world’s deepest, slowest inhale, and I was transported to heaven for a split second. Now I’m back… to this glorious purgatorial sphere of perception. And I’m contemplating how to sum it all up… I just keep looking at life “out there”, and measuring it against life “in here”… and all I feel is “bepuzzlement”. How do I unite these two faces of my one self? I guess this inquiry is the beginning of the next leg of the journey Home. Sigh. It seems to be such an arduous trek. I want to take the express elevator up the Mountain. But I guess if I did that, I would surely be blinded by the intensity of the Infinite Light at the top. I believe the strength and endurance we gain along the climb prepares us for the inevitable, all-consuming rapture. Or maybe we just go on foot for the sheer fun of it…

Live,
A

Monogamy Vs. Polyamory… Who Will Take Home The CUP?

I’m at Pizzaiolo, because it just feels right here.   Lots of dark wood and dim light and civilized, interesting people.  They almost always play roughly textured music too loud, but I just try to deal with it, because everything else about the ambiance here certainly rubs me righter than any other writer-friendly public domain.  Which strikes me as odd, considering that this is the Bay Area, and it really ought to be brimming with aesthetically intelligent, hip hang-outs.  Oh well… one is enough.

 

Anyway, that was just me setting the scene, so you are able to relax and snuggle into this precious and fleeting moment of life with me.  What I really want to explore is monogamy versus polyamory in Relationship.  Life truly is a ceaseless stream of evolution and involution… which I forgot for a minute… and I caught myself grasping at the hopeful illusion that I might stumble upon some sort of pervasive, weighty truth or over-arching understanding, as I tumble myself out upon the page.  But unfortunately (and fortunately) the most I can expect is a stimulating, thought provoking and naked exploration.

 

Part of me wishes that I could just declare myself monogamous, pour myself out in endless devotion to Ed forever and get on with my life.  I mean that’s such a pretty picture… I’d even go so far as to call it “lovely”.  But is it realistic?

 

Before I fell in love with the dude, I was pretty convinced I never wanted to be monogamous again, because it cramped my style.  Like why should I restrict who and how I love?  It seemed fear-based, and inauthentic.  Up until very recently, it used to drive me cray-zay that Eddie was so jealous and possessive of me.  I aspire to never to make major life choices based in fear… But then check THIS out- you click reality two subtle notches to the left, and the fears shape shifts into the foundation of a potent and valuable *container*.  I never thought I’d say this… GOD!  But I’m gonna.  I’m gonna exercise the metaphoric parallel of locking my apartment door.  I am savoring the irony of this, because a few years ago, I wrote a blog about an epic fight that Mykael and I got in, when we left the house to visit our neighbors five houses down.  He wanted to lock the door, and I was adamant that he just relax his anal sphincter and trust that our home would be safe for a few minutes while we shmoozed down the street.  Member THAT?  And we ended up getting in a face-slapping match over it?!…

 

https://athenagrace.wordpress.com/2010/06/05/a-fight-that-will-live-in-ecstatic-infamy/

 

There’s the link.  Refresh your memory.  It was a good one…

 

But yes, as much as I strive to expect and invite the highest conduct from my fellow humans, and life in general, I still put my valuables in the trunk of the car while I frolic about life, and lock my house when I leave.  Because I want to keep that which I value safe.  Can you see where I’m headed with this?  When done right (grin), sex creates a hella deep bond, and makes a relationship infinitely more complex.  Beyond the mere energetically demanding juggling act of maintaining multiple such connections, it really does open the door to potentially jeopardizing the depth and purity of a primary relationship, if you ask me.

 

Sure, a lot of people pull it off… And I am not knocking that.  Not even.  I’m just asking myself what sharing sexually with multiple partners is really in service of in my life…  And *at this point*, the hard, fast answer is NUTTIN.  I value depth far more than I value variety.  I’m really not one for all you can eat buffets… or those sushi restaurants with the little boats… they make me anxious and its hard to just relax and enjoy my meal, because I’m all adrenalized and on edge because I’m perpetually scoping out the little river, in anticipation of the “perfect” piece of sushi… It’s very primal.  But that has nothing to do with monogamy.

 

Or maybe it does.  But mostly I shared the sushi trip because I find it to be a quirky and humorous nuance of my human experience.  But allow me to reign myself in and say that the depth and quality of love, friendship, intimacy and sex that Ed and I share is waaaaay more than enough for me at this point.  And it is certainly worth sanctifying.  Hands down.  But can I make radical, over-arching promises to myself and to him about who I’ll be tomorrow?  I wish it was that simple…

 

But it’s not.  And honestly, why do I even wish that?  Well, because peering into the fantasy future of loving and evolving with one RAD man for our entire lives inspires me.  The notion of *mature love*, perpetual deepening, friendship sturdier than nautical rope…  I find it so appealing.  More appealing than being a promiscuous little slut.  Not that promiscuous little sluts can’t also thrive in long term, committed partnerships…

 

I dunno.  I mean here in the Bay Area, so many people are polyamorous.  And as I try to navigate and define myself, naturally, I look without for mirrors and models that resonate with my own concealed knowing.  And sometimes all this searching gives me a headache.

 

But in order to navigate the inquiry of monogamy versus polyamory, an essential question for me to explore, is what is the purpose of Relationship for me?  Ugh.  This is a massive topic.  And the answer really depends on which facet of me you ask…

 

The answer according to my most idealistic self, is that a partner is someone to hold hands with as we walk home to God.  Think in the vein of the whole is greater than the sum… Someone to raise a family with and serve the community and the planet with… a source of…

 

Oh shit.  Edward just got here and he was fresh from the court room, all decked out in a dress shirt and tie and slacks (and his sporty digital watch peeking out of his left cuff… teehee!) It’s way too profound to put into words… the feeling of our embrace.  So warm and human and transcendent.  That’s how I mostly feel about the glorious perfection of the love we share (except, of course when we’re romping and splashing through the dark, creepy shadows…).  Its way too big to imprison within the confines of language.  But I never stop trying.  It’s just my endearing nature to perpetually stab at saying the unsayable.

 

But as for the purpose of Relationship… I suppose that the best things in life are those which are sourced and informed by the infinite Mystery.  But it *must* have a lot to to with evolving and expanding our recognition and practice of living as perfect expressions of Divine Love.  Mmmm… Divine Love.  That excites me.  Way more than all you can eat buffets, or the perfect piece of sushi…

 

This is definitely an endless inquiry.  It’s more fun this way… Stay tuned.  And please feel free to leave a comment and offer YOUR thoughts on this profound and essential inquiry of contemporary human existence.  I’d love to hear from YOU!

 

LIVE,

A

 

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