Wild As The Waves

This is gonna be the most amazing blog God’s ever written through me!  Not because I have anything burning to tell you… In fact, I have NO idea what’s gonna crash out of me and break rapturously violent on the shore of your awareness.  Well, I have a few ideas… but you know how that goes.  Most times I step onto the page thinking I know and then WHAM!  Something totally different happens.  But what I DO know is that I feel so full of goodness.  And this goodness ACHES to be offered up, extended, shared… with whomever is hungry, thirsty and otherwise wanting.  So if you find yourself with an appetite for frivolous beauty and decadent lovin’, SOUP’S ONNNN!  BYOB (bring your own bowl) and I’ll ladle you a generous helping of thick, steaming, chunky LOVE soup! (…or is it pureed???)

 

Holy Popcorn!  I see a man with the most enormous cup of mocha.  It is topped with a mountainous pile of whipped cream drizzled in melty chocolate sauce and he’s unabashedly wrastling it with his entire face, lips and tongue.  Madness.  What a vivacious mess!  I want to rip my skimpy to begin with clothes off and leap right into it like a tropical snow bank!

 

Another thing you should know about the moment is that I smell like Spencer.  Remember him?  The guy who fairy-knapped me the other morning and dragged me (neither kicking nor screaming) to all those sacred watery places on the north-assed shore…(actually, he’s not a guy, he’s an angel.  It’s obvious just by bathing in the ridiculously holy light that gurshes from his warm blue eyes.  (Yeah, they’re not cold blue, like some of the other blue eyes that I’ve been impressed and seduced by recently.  Nah… these eyes are warm blue.)  (Which reminds me~  I met this goddess named Lauren the other day… and at first glance, you might think that she has “brown” eyes…  but upon further surrendered study, you might realize that they are actually red.  I know, I know… that sounds weird and demonic… but it’s totally not.  The red is unobtrusive, hidden… yet overtly bright.  Think smoldering coals that you just blew a prayer infused breath upon.  And suddenly the coals become a flaming choir of angels singing operatic strains of Ave Maria.  They are eyes that I’m quite surprised I found my way back out of.  I am sure that many have become lost for all eternity in their generous, multidimensionally glowin labyrinth.) (Speaking of labyrinths… Kauai sure NEEDS one of those.  Maybe I’ll fashion one right on the beach.  I yearn to become dissolved in those sacred folds today.)

 

Okay, Athena, you have used up your daily ration of parenthesis.  Come back.  (Just for that, the rebel in me wants to use parenthesis at least six more times!)  Ahem.  So Spencer.  He always smells so delicious.  Like a little curry dumpling.  A warm, human curry dumpling.  I absolutely LOVE it!  And then I hug him and for the whole REST of the day, I smell like him… plus sweet succulent me, of course.  This is pertinent, because as I sit here typing, this appetizing aroma wafts off of me.  I am like a gourmet curry shack on the north side of the pearly gates!  Come n get it!!!

 

What else do I want to tell you?  The first BIG winter swell came in yesterday!  That means big-assed waves for those of you who are not fluent in ocean speak.  Big waves.  The kind of waves that make me certain that life is NOT mundane in the least.  That even this 3D reality we have collectively invested our faith in… is sheer MAGIC.  These waves ARE poetry.  They ARE spirit.  They ARE prayers and the simultaneous answers.  The way they at once move in slow, lucid motion… and too at the speed of sound.  And not just any sound… The sound of one hand having a screaming orgasmic round of gayatri mantra.

 

Gayatri mantra.  It’s the mantra invoking the Light.  It’s meant to be sung just before dawn.  Both the literal and the figurative version of dawn.  I have been feeling an explicit and weighty compulsion to listen to it for some time now… but hadn’t gotten around to it.  And then voila!  I hitchhiked with the Man Muse of Kauai, Richard Diamond the other morning and low and behold, these very sacred syllables were infusing the atmosphere of his auspicious, well-loved little minivan.  I was feeling particularly ragged around the edges that morning… and as soon as I opened the door to is magic mobile, all this soothing, peaceful energy cascaded out on me.  Baby Jesus, did I NEED it!  And by the time we reached Hanalei, I was fully revived.  He said that’s all he listens to.  Talk about an enchanted being.  If life is a myth, and it totally IS, he is one of the Maha Devas, the starring roles for sure.  He told me that people just walk up to him on the street and hand him money… because he is the Muse.  He is the brainchild of this website called “The Heartbeat of Kauai” (hearbeatofkauai.com), which is like a massive network, an intricate, explicit weaving.  The tagline is “tying the hearts of Kauaiians together”.  So you see, he’s a well directed Muse.  A Muse poured out in service of the Greater Good, who dances (naked, of course) to the music of the L-word.  (Love, dummy!)  Richard Diamond.  Every story he tells is marvelously captivating, because it is soaked to dripping with enchantment and magic.

 

(Speaking of Diamonds, I saw them all over the raucous sea foam as I jogged the bay this morning.  It was not your average “sea bling” as Jack the Wizard aproposly coined the glistening marriage of surf and sun… (and btw, Jack is NOT a wizard, after all.  He’s an F-ing LEPRECHAUN!  Duh… I can’t believe I was so naïve to this fact for so long.  I guess they call that “denial”.  He is indeed a leprechaun.  Seriously.  I’ll show you a picture soon.)  But these diamonds looked like God had gratuitously sprinkled a hefty splash of silver glitter all over the smooth, whipped creamish slathering of sea foam that smeared across the wet span of sand.  I’m sure I could have struck my fortune, if I’d been motivated… just by trouncing into the foam and grabbing fistfuls of tiny diamonds.)

 

I would have loved to recount some of the tingle-inducing Richard Diamond chronicles… but I’ve already exhausted my well of allotted words for today.  Rain check.  (And the rainy season is indeed upon us… so this could be as soon as soon as a hundred and eight seconds from now…)  Dang!  And come to think of it, I didn’t even share with you the beautiful erotic snuggle session that WP and I shared last night.  I’ll quickly stuff it into Thumblina’s nutshell bed~ He swooped by on his way home from work and we reconnected.  It was very healing.  And our bodies naturally came together.  Without agenda.  Natural… two warm, fleshy magnets.  And like always, I was already bursting at the seems with blissful energy, so being close with him felt like being shot from a canon straight into heaven’s sassy, orgasmic sea.  I already felt so full and luscious on the inside… but then, suddenly, the outside felt equally as good… which just made the inside feel even more bursting with ecstasy.  Ahhh, the simple pleasures of life!

 

Right now, I feel my overall inner climate shifting from emptiness to fullness.  Scarcity to the intrinsic abundance of Godness. (NESS!!!!)  I was conditioned to believe that feeling turned on meant I needed release… but NOPE… come to find out, it simply means I am fully ALIVE and overflowing with the inescapable divinity that composes All That Is.  It was great learning to just BE with WP.  To bathe together in the benevolent bliss that life is simply made of.  No need to DO anything… but feel, luxuriate, bathe.  And from this remembrance of innate divine fullness, I am becoming well equipped to feed humanity.  The learning is still taking hold.  Working with Amrita Grace is a big piece of it.  I breathe.  I am patient.  And… you heard it HERE first, Friends~ unfasten your seatbelts and PREPARE FOR MIRACLES!!!

 

Amen.

 

 

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Thank God It’s Not Yesterday!

Thank God it’s today and not yesterday.  Yesterday turned out to be an arduous one.  When I began my blog, remember, I had misplaced my smile and the tension inside was enough to make rubber band music.  Well, to make a long story short, let’s just say that I strummed a good share of lonesome, clunky rubber band notes and listened to them bounce and echo through the vast, dark scapes of my inner terrain yesterday.  Another way of making this ridiculously epic story short is to say that I felt like a frustrated, sedated, caged tiger; frightened, dulled and pacing my diminutive nook of the zoo with paws that felt bound by balls and chains.

Ooooh!  Four oh five pm and a spontaneous rainstorm has announced itself by pounding playfully upon my blessed roof!  (Think about it~ It’s pretty blessed to have a roof, isn’t it?!?  Home is so easy to take for granted here in first world paradise… but come on!  Let’s share a moment of silence and be grateful for the homes that give us refuge, grounding and safety!  Thank you God, for my holy home!)  Yeah, I think the Angels threw down a few splashy handfuls of rain just to remind me that yesterday is dead and gone forever and today, I stand fresh and cleansed once more.

But Angels, please let me tell them one more thing about yesterday… Okay?  (Since Angels aren’t much for discipline they just gave me the go-ahead…)  I want to publicly praise myself for the courage and self love I exhibited in the face of such relentless discomfort.  I didn’t have much going on yesterday… so it was a lot of resting, pausing and being… but with a very raucous mind.  I wanted to find something to DO.  Do!!!!!!!!  DOOOOOO!!!!! But I knew that that was not on God’s menu for me.  I was tired and sad and introspective… And just needed to BEEEEEEE.  Past incarnations of me would have marched my sad ass to a jumpin’ café and gotten hella hopped on latte… and/or waited till the day began its steep incline into evening and drowned my angst in a glass chalice of the blood of Christ… or… but no distractions this time.

A turning point was when I dragged my sluggish ass into the temple in the late afternoon for asana practice.  Though my muscles felt to be made of sandbags, the practice clarified my mind.  After practice, I still felt low energy… but full of peace.  Renewed yet worn, I went to bed early.

And now it’s today!  Lucid, energized, surrendered TODAY!  My witchy-girl-posse housemates and I agreed to start coming together for sadhana (morning spiritual practice= an hour of yoga asana and 30 minutes of meditation) in our temple, starting today at six thirty am.  One of my girls had to work and the other opted for more sleep.  But still, I showed up and dove in.  Mmmmm.  Just recalling the memory evokes a MASSIVE deep breath in me!!!  The temple has a copious amount of windows on all sides, covered with screens, but otherwise wide open to the teeming jungle outside.  I watched it, felt it, breathed it as it gradually burst awake.  The creek outside shushed its ceaseless, liquid OM, the rooster crows and parrot squawks were so thick you could slice them with a dull machete (kinda like the banana, guava, payaya, lime, ginger, kale, parsley, maca smoothie I am nursing off a large spoon right now).  Six thirty am, and already I was perfectly comfortable in a tank top (the same one that I have been wearing since last Wednesday.  I borrowed it from Dara and fell in love with it because the cotton is so soft it feels like skin and I feel free and sexy in it.  I asked her if I could have it and she said YES!!!  Hence I keep putting it on again, day after day.)

(God… Here’s a weird thing about life~ no matter HOW absolutely mundane it gets, it never ceases to be laden with wonders… you just have to be willing to open your eyes and tell the truth.  I mean, sure, I feel ashamed that I’ve worn the same damn shirt for a week straight… but BFD… (The F stands for “friggin”, okay?… I’m not cursing.  Keep that cackling cake of soap away from my innocent, smirking mouth.) BFD because these little details of life are wrought with enchantment and comedy.

Like Brad for example.  (Yes, I know I am still operating inside parenthesis, but this is important, so I surrender myself to an order higher than pea sized me can fathom.  Don’t worry, I’ll circle back around.  This is the feminine model of communication.  When unbridled, we often move in concentric circles, not straighter than thou lines…) Living with Brad is a trip.  It’s kind of like living with an enlightened zoo animal… In my eyes, Brad is an eccentric, spiritual, kamikaze shaman.  I love his face.  There is something so open and inviting about it… which compels me to just look and look.  Looking at his face is like gazing skyward and seeing a vision of the Buddha.  Brad’s eyes are the sky.  Lucid, vibrant, luminous and endless.

But that’s neither here nor there.  What really counts is my fascination with his eating habits.  PROTEIN SQUARED.  I often find him snacking on peanuts in the shell.  And I infallibly get peanut envy.  I must admit, that eating salty, roasted peanuts right out of the shell is a field trip to Nirvana for me.  I suppose I could ask him for some… but I don’t believe in gratuitously snacking.  I don’t like to start my digestion for no reason other than hedonistic pleasure.  Ahem.  So I oft find my enlightened, kamikaze beast of a friend feeding on peanuts.  Also, he just bought like 24 eggs and two packs of bacon… so every day around noon (His breakfast time) he has been perfuming the air with the lucid dream music of salty, pig flavored fat.  One day last week for dinner he grilled a steak and washed it down with a cheese omelet the size of Madagascar!  Wow!  Another snack sensation that he frequents is corn chips dipped in a tub of sour cream!  Yesterday in the middle of breakfast, he demanded that I follow him outside, where he grabbed his machete and marched out into the yard where he proceeded to WHACK through the slender though substantial trunk of a banana tree, knocking the poor creature to the ground in one clean, furious swipe, and then hacking off the entire bunch of almost ripe bananas.  (He said if you leave them on the tree, the chickens eat ‘em up.)  Shrug.  I dunno if any of this recounting of my beloved soul brother Brad will translate through the pores of your computer such that you taste the most primal strain of Awe as I do… but at least know that my world is shaded with rich, fascinating, holy caricatures.)

So yeah, back to the civilized, unparenthasized world… Being held by the morning jungle breath felt like being in the womb.  I breathed in so much overflowing life that my mind became a clean, sharp diamond.   And then after breakfast, I walked a little over a mile to the beach, where I immediately flung myself back into the watery arms of my Origin and frolicked until I had no more frolic in me.  Can you believe that?!?!  I must be dreaming.  Oh, wait… life is but a dream…

I wish I had words to convey the sheer medicinal MAGIC that it is to swim in these waters.  All I can say is that it is alchemy.  All I can say is that every single cell that is me sings opera for hours after I reemerge onto the land.  All I can say is that I feel like a lump of garden variety coal turned to diamonds upon entering the wet womb of the Mother.  All I can say is… YES!

Another blessed facet of today= I went to the post office to pick up a package that arrived for me yesterday.  I had no idea what it was… which naturally made it that much more thrilling!  SURPRISE!  My dear friend Phoenix had sent me a piece of art he had made to display at Center Camp at Burning Man this year.  He said it was inspired by me… you see we visited Kauai together a few times seven years ago… and shared many magical adventures.  I’m sure this work of art is a gift straight from God, because when I look at it, I see myself in this new born place, standing courageous, tall and Divinely Alone in the psychedelia of Heaven.  See for yourself…

Amen.