fear or love?

i'm sitting and gazing at my painting.  more trees.  i think i love them so much because they are quiet, patient things, and yet the growth of their roots can break cement and penetrate solid rock.

patience is a virtue, but when does tolerance become a lack of boundaries?  as i learn to be more accepting of myself and the path my life has taken, i try to accept people as they are--imperfect, with their own issues, disorders...human equivalents of mechanical glitches.  if i am perfectly imperfect, then so must be everyone else.  is it so abnormal that my ego gets bruised, then, when another's comments cause me to sit up and scream (in my own head, of course), what the f*&# did you just tell me that for?

i get jealous.  i am insecure about my looks, about my career path, about where i live.  it's not so much that i have learned to like all these aspects of my life, but i have realized that they might change--or not--in time...but i cannot speed up or slow down the course of Nature.  i am where i need to be.  i celebrate what i have been through because it is life, and life is Divine Love's gift to my soul.  it would be rude to toss it over my shoulder like a dirty sock, though i've tried to do that in my past.

at the same time, i have my doubts.


of all the pairs of eyes in the world, why is it that i react so strongly to these?  of all the painting styles in the world, why do i feel compelled to slather gel medium onto my canvas and proceed to pile up all sorts of ridiculous materials on top of it, until it hurts my brain to look at it? 

i suppose the question becomes:

do i act out of fear--or out of love?

as much as he drives me mad with the things he says sometimes, i love him. as tedious and sticky as my creative process gets sometimes, i love to do it.  as loud as the voice in my head gets, telling me "what are you doing?"--it gives me reason to love my life.

who decides what is healthy, normal or sane?  as long as no violence is being done to self or others, knock yourself out.  it's all a learning experience.   

equinox

i can feel the shift in the season even though the weather has not yet perceptibly shifted.  i suppose as the climate changes, California's seasons will become more and more rebellious.  i sense an earthquake coming, or that's the arrival of autumn i sense...

the day passed quickly; hopefully the night will give me ample time to dream richly. 

the days will grow short, darkness will fall sooner and i will be forced to prepare my psyche for a turning-inward.  i always became extremely depressed during my birthday month in the past.  now that i am more stable, i wonder how October will pan out?

a concert, a camping trip.  new love?  true love?

seems i can't stay single for very long these days.  i need to "take things slow," whatever that might mean.  code for "no sex?"  or maybe "don't make any major purchases together for the first 5 months?"  i'm getting quite good at moving with the flow of life, giving up resistance sooner and learning my lessons more quickly and the first few times around.  i'd say that's growth! 

poised.  balanced.  perched on the edge of a knife.  maybe not: maybe the bottom of a slope or the top of a track.  either way, i am going to move, shift, transform and change.  i try not to be afraid.  or if i am, i admit it and move on.  of course i'm afraid.  the economy is lifeless and i have 3 part-time jobs.  i am an art-maker with few connections (as of yet).  shall i go back to school now?  where would i go?  stay?

in autumn, the harvest is celebrated.  candles are lit to remind us of the summer that burned hot not so long ago.  music, mead and dancing...not yet worrying about the barren winter to come.  not quite the case in SoCal, but i will celebrate my birth.  how many more to go?  winter and death are too far off yet.

uncork me a sweet merlot and paint my lips with honey and chocolate; dust my skin with cinnamon and cloves!  the loamy and yielding life--the Fall from the bright sunlit wildfire-days into the soft, damp, cool, dark earth.

anahata

a boy i know is struggling to find himself, to know himself, to love himself.

actually, i know quite a few people who are on that path.

here is an excerpt from my note to him:

                           

i agree that the world is a sad place, full of ignorant people without any spiritual connection.  religion and dogma, power and corruption, lust and desire have shaped our culture to value more knowledge and more power and more lust.  my "breakdown"--or whatever you want to call it--my journey--has transformed me from an academically gifted, self-absorbed girl into a human being who recognizes both her pitiful, self-imposed limitations as well as her sublime and perfect connection to the Divine.  because i came so close to death, i had no choice but to see it.  i hope that, like you, more and more of us come to realize our interconnectedness...our common thread that weaves us to the Source from which we--and all life--came.  this is not to say we should all forsake our logic, our pragmatism, our possessions, or our identities.  rather, we can take root in the awareness of Divine wisdom and consciousness, and from there, nourish our individual gifts and unique perspectives to allow for the realization of our Highest Potential.

i wish someone would have told me, when i was in a similar place, that knowledge can only take you so far.  at some point, you will need to let go of everything you have ever known...surrender and make yourself utterly vulnerable.  only when the vessel is empty can it be filled.  this applies to my heart, to my wallet, to my schedule, to my cereal bowl.

ironically, i drew The Hierophant in my daily Tarot reading.  The Hierophant is a symbol of spirituality, but also of orthodoxy, ritual and tradition.  For me, the importance of this figure lies in his break from convention as much as his adherence to it.  Question all that you have ever learned.  Dare to allow your dreams to be Truth, for even though you may not understand them, in time, they will show you exactly what you need to know.  let's move out of the solar plexus, the power center, the burning of activity and metabolism and digestion, and into the heart center, anahata, "the unstruck," where we stop grasping and grabbing and taking, and start to open, to receive, to share and to serve.

no matter how many times my heart breaks wide open, i still love.

darkness and light

i have been to hell and emerged: scarred, humbled and strong.

imagine: 10 years of exercise addiction and eating disorders, eight years between high school graduation and my bachelor's degree (and i had well above a 4.0 GPA), seven razorblade cuts to the wrist, six years of therapy (at least), five types of drugs with which i experiemented, four hospitalizations, three years of teaching, two suicide attempts, and a partridge in a pear tree (or an owl hovering under a full moon, inches above my head).  this has been my life.

i'm not born-again, but i have chipped away at the thick shell of self-loathing, self-abuse, shame, rage and despair slowly and consistently.  i build up those textures again in my artwork so that they have somewhere to be--a record of a purge that renders me pure and clear again. 

no, i'm not perfect or cured or normal or recovered...yet.  i am real.  i am honest.  i have a good sense of my Truth.  i have learned that unfastening my cold, weighty armor is the closest i can get to freedom.  vulnerability is the path to love, and love is the only freedom--the only heaven--our poor selves will ever know.

are we spiritual beings having a human experience?  absolutely.

is the human experience messy, painful and exhausting?  yes.

but i have found that i was born into this world with the capacity to sense unsurpassed beauty--so much beauty, in fact, that sometimes i can't help sobbing, overwhelmed by it all.  it doesn't matter what i see: the moonrise, a small stone on the beach, a man with so much pain in his body and so much gentleness in his fingers and a story of betrayal in his eyes.  it is all beautiful to me.


i eat oatmeal for breakfast.  and i spend money on things i don't really need when i am stressed and sad. i am late paying my bills sometimes.  i am so joyfully human, so lonely, so resilient, so selfish, so creative, so emotional, so intellectual.  so soulful. 

i imagine we all have scars.  i know we all have stories.  the important thing is to tell them.  that is how we know we are not alone, not really.

stigma

i used to think i had good intuition.  

i want to have good intuition.  i'm a woman, and therefore, it is my birthright to have exceptional sensitivity to threat, danger, evil...also goodness, sincerity and vibrancy.  back in the day, we had to find a mate who would help us to conceive healthy, strong offspring, to provide us with protection, security and the resources for survival.  large chest.  strong arms.  chiseled features.  well-endowed? oui.


fast forward to 2009, and i have no idea what the ideal mate might look like, sound like, smell like.  my chemistry--my hormones--have absolutely no communication with my intellect, and it's getting real, REAL frustrating. 

man? woman? older? younger?  

bad boy?  genius boy?  responsible boy?  art boy? hot boy?  man-boy with no business "walking the fence," shall we say?  makes it exciting until it makes it trying and tiring.  where the hell are all my choices? 



i am in my workplace, minding my own business.  i have just ended a relationship.  i have sworn off any type of liason for AT LEAST a month...maybe two?  i need to focus on my art.  my spiritual growth.  i want to be able to finish all 108 sun salutations for the New Year's Mala.  

i am not lonely, am i?  no.  no?  no.  i'm good.  i'm single.  i'm just living my life.


boy meets girl.  boy gives girl number.  girl calls number.  girl sets up meeting over wine.  boy is...not the artist she thought he might be?  boy is...mysterious, fragmented, interesting, brilliant?  boy is...diagnosed?  so is girl.  everyone has the right to a "normal" life. right?  full life?  blind leading the just-emerging-into-the-big-time?  chemistry is good.  so is chocolate.  mmm, chocolate.  girl needs to find chocolate boy?

dating is dead.  courting is dead.  is it me?  is there a big tattoo on my forehead: OPEN, IMPRESSIONABLE, NAIEVE, PATIENT, ADORABLE, BUT SHELTERED, BUT CRAZY TOO...C'MON OVER?

am i sabotaging myself?  am i living in the moment, trying not to make assumptions?  am i rebelling against my parents: What Would Mom NOT Do?  do i think i'm keeping an open heart?  am i?  am i  a fool?  am i mature or just young and stupid?

i guess it doesn't really matter.  it is what it is (does EVERYONE use this phrase?).  live life until you are full to overflowing, or sit and rot inside your little suburban bubble.  

i, for one, am going to write one bitchin' autobiography.