yes: i do live a sensual life.
the taste of wine on my tongue...the scent of jasmine flowers on my skin. i adore the sunlight on my shoulders and the heat of fire on the back of my neck, warming my hair. the wind combing through my hair on a cool day sends me shivering...as does the plunge into an icy pool when the air is hot and dry.
i drink my tea hot; i lick the melting honey of off the spoon before it all dissolves into the amber liquid. i suck on a piece of dark chocolate and the sweetness turns earthy on my tongue. i spread cool clay onto my cheeks and wait for it to warm. kiss my mouth and you will taste the sweetest fruit you have ever tasted.
fingertips on the soft skin of my inner arm--or inner thigh, if you should be so lucky--sends me into another time and space, where nothing you could say could matter--not really. the sound of a candle wick catching fire is a symphony. did you know that cinnamon sparkles like stars as it touches the blue flames of the range top?
i adore this body and the gifts i receive every time i step into a hot bath perfumed with bergamot and lavender. if you have ever smelled fresh basil in the garden, crushed between your thumb and forefinger, you know what makes me sigh with delight. my roses are divine, and they ask nothing from me in return.
soothe me with warm breath on the skin of my throat while violin music echoes sadly from far away. or dip me in the salty sea and then roll me in the sugar-white sands of some lonely beach on a weekday. if you want to know me, watch my eyes when the cello hits that certain note--you will see stone turn to dust.
i am a simple creature, and yet the complexity of that which i can sense is without bounds. wrap me in feathers...fold me up in the richness of song...steal me away to watch the sandstone hills turn pink in the transformation of the day into twilight: and i will be both your slave and your goddess at once.
11.28.2009
11.26.2009
Nice to have found you again
tonight i walked and listened to the owls calling to each other in the dark. i knew they were nestled in the trees, some distance over my head, though the only trace of them was the deep timbre of "who! who!"
owls show themselves to me only in very special times. the last time i was really close to one, i was feeling a little desperate and lost, wandering one night--a full moon--in the hills behind North Winds Ranch. i guess tonight i feel lost again. i am stronger, maybe, emotionally now than i was then...but i am still longing for something not quite in my reach...
everything spiritual i read tells me to accept what is, and i will be free...free from this desire, this craving, this longing that eats me up on nights when the rest of the house is quiet and i am no longer simply reacting to daily life. be grateful for what i have--which i am, don't get me wrong--and i won't feel tormented. but there is a pull, a push, a fluttering of a memory...except that it exists in the future: it has not yet come into being. i do not know what it is, but i will when it happens...i hope.
the stars and the moon--half-crescent and waxing--and the deep indigo skies and the towering mass of the long-dead volcano above the townhome transported me, momentarily, to another time, a space where i might have been more wary of mountain lions pouncing onto my back. ancient, forgotten, alive only in short bursts, like the trail of a meteor across the sky.
i get that a lot. with places, with images, with people. a friend i recently met said to me, "it's nice to have found you again," and i believed it, with the whole of my heart, to be true. i looked into his eyes and i saw something that resonated with me. not attraction-that came later, with getting to know him. affinity? recognition?
i have been reading in the cards that help is on the way. i've gotten this far in recovery with and without other entities--hospitals, doctors, therapists, drugs, process groups--relying mostly on that tiny scrap of fire inside me that insists on survival. when i had the help, i didn't want it...now that i am hungry for it, it is limited. but that is how it goes, i suppose. the moment i knew--with my heart, not my intellect--that i wouldn't be able to go through recovery alone was when i experienced the jump from half-hearted effort to full-blown war on the demons that nearly killed me. and, ironically, the moment i knew i would have to decide to fight on my own behalf.
i started out with a fierce stubbornness--a tiger, indeed. if life was suffering, then i was going to inflict it upon myself with the wrath of a starving she-cat, claws out. as i danced in Death's arms, i began to ponder needing people, needing nourishment--what would that mean? how would it feel to address my needs--not to satisfy them, but simply to admit that i had them: that i was like any other human? as i slowly began to experiment with recognizing them, i grew ballsy and began to ask for things--and to give them to myself. this is where i stand currently.
i am at the painful stage of having endured the lessons of humility and vulnerability. i have faced my very worst fears, crumbling inside under the weight of my terror, but pushing on--pushing on. now, i realize, new fears materialize as soon as the old ones are vanquished. delightful. the never-ending story...though if this is true, it also works for joy: as in, the more joy i feel, the greater my capacity for finding joy where i once found sorrow.
i am weary. i need so much. i want so much, though i am still trying to figure out what that is. i am afraid that if i am left to dream, my dreams will grow and stretch to disproportionate heights. not only do my dreams grow large, they grow deep, they grow soft and refined, like fine silk--watery and light and strong and rich. like my paintings, they are made up of every color in the spectrum...every texture one could imagine, every shape, every pattern ever conceived by nature. they are intricate, they are bursting with vitality, with music, with movement. what will nourish dreams so large? i think most people are afraid of deep dreams...it is easier to discourage them, discount them, for fear of risking materialization.
i want. i need. but i also give. whoever will be enough to meet me, to look at me and KNOW me?
i don't know.
owls show themselves to me only in very special times. the last time i was really close to one, i was feeling a little desperate and lost, wandering one night--a full moon--in the hills behind North Winds Ranch. i guess tonight i feel lost again. i am stronger, maybe, emotionally now than i was then...but i am still longing for something not quite in my reach...
everything spiritual i read tells me to accept what is, and i will be free...free from this desire, this craving, this longing that eats me up on nights when the rest of the house is quiet and i am no longer simply reacting to daily life. be grateful for what i have--which i am, don't get me wrong--and i won't feel tormented. but there is a pull, a push, a fluttering of a memory...except that it exists in the future: it has not yet come into being. i do not know what it is, but i will when it happens...i hope.
the stars and the moon--half-crescent and waxing--and the deep indigo skies and the towering mass of the long-dead volcano above the townhome transported me, momentarily, to another time, a space where i might have been more wary of mountain lions pouncing onto my back. ancient, forgotten, alive only in short bursts, like the trail of a meteor across the sky.
i get that a lot. with places, with images, with people. a friend i recently met said to me, "it's nice to have found you again," and i believed it, with the whole of my heart, to be true. i looked into his eyes and i saw something that resonated with me. not attraction-that came later, with getting to know him. affinity? recognition?
i have been reading in the cards that help is on the way. i've gotten this far in recovery with and without other entities--hospitals, doctors, therapists, drugs, process groups--relying mostly on that tiny scrap of fire inside me that insists on survival. when i had the help, i didn't want it...now that i am hungry for it, it is limited. but that is how it goes, i suppose. the moment i knew--with my heart, not my intellect--that i wouldn't be able to go through recovery alone was when i experienced the jump from half-hearted effort to full-blown war on the demons that nearly killed me. and, ironically, the moment i knew i would have to decide to fight on my own behalf.
i started out with a fierce stubbornness--a tiger, indeed. if life was suffering, then i was going to inflict it upon myself with the wrath of a starving she-cat, claws out. as i danced in Death's arms, i began to ponder needing people, needing nourishment--what would that mean? how would it feel to address my needs--not to satisfy them, but simply to admit that i had them: that i was like any other human? as i slowly began to experiment with recognizing them, i grew ballsy and began to ask for things--and to give them to myself. this is where i stand currently.
i am at the painful stage of having endured the lessons of humility and vulnerability. i have faced my very worst fears, crumbling inside under the weight of my terror, but pushing on--pushing on. now, i realize, new fears materialize as soon as the old ones are vanquished. delightful. the never-ending story...though if this is true, it also works for joy: as in, the more joy i feel, the greater my capacity for finding joy where i once found sorrow.
i am weary. i need so much. i want so much, though i am still trying to figure out what that is. i am afraid that if i am left to dream, my dreams will grow and stretch to disproportionate heights. not only do my dreams grow large, they grow deep, they grow soft and refined, like fine silk--watery and light and strong and rich. like my paintings, they are made up of every color in the spectrum...every texture one could imagine, every shape, every pattern ever conceived by nature. they are intricate, they are bursting with vitality, with music, with movement. what will nourish dreams so large? i think most people are afraid of deep dreams...it is easier to discourage them, discount them, for fear of risking materialization.
i want. i need. but i also give. whoever will be enough to meet me, to look at me and KNOW me?
i don't know.
11.24.2009
thank you
i am thankful for so many things.
i am thankful for the experiences i've had, and the ones that have yet to be. i have a supportive family that loves me the best way that it can. i have fantastic friends. i live in luxurious surroundings: hot running water, a tub i can stretch out in, a queen-sized, comfy bed, my own spacious room, my own little art studio workspace, a toilet.
i have enough to eat, clean water to drink. i have plenty of clothes (probably TOO many!) to keep me warm and to use as a form of self-expression. i have access to health care, medicine, birth control. i see a therapist who genuinely cares about my recovery, and who charges a reasonable rate.
i am thankful for crescent moons and for the sound of crickets during twilight. i am thankful for the taste of tea and honey. i am thankful for being able to feel a lover's touch on my skin, the soft fur of a cat against my cheek. i am thankful for picking fresh herbs to put in my soup, for magenta roses that bloom in the sun. i am thankful for the vast ocean and the patient trees that give me shade and play music in the wind.
i am grateful for my yoga practice, which helps me endure the suffering of human life. i am grateful for smiling and laughter, for tears and sleep. i am grateful for my dreams, which i can always remember bits and pieces of, and for my gifts and talents. i am grateful for free time and leisure, for hard work and studying. i am thankful for the choice to be single, married, divorced, dating. i am thankful to be able to look people in the eyes and say, "I like who I am...at least most of the time. And I'm learning to love myself all of the time."
i am thankful for my arms and legs, for my strength and grace. i am thankful for my wisdom and for my sadness, for my passion and bliss. i am thankful for my voice, for being able to use it to speak my Truth. i am thankful for my right to vote, to be free and to pursue my version of Happiness--whatever that might be.
i am thankful for books and movies and for this illusion we call reality. i am thankful for Art and Beauty and for the shadowy parts of myself that i am learning not to fear. i am thankful that my heart, while it may break over and over again, has not yet turned stony or bitter. i am thankful for being female, for having the gift of giving birth to new life. i am thankful for my sensuality, my sexuality, my desires and my discipline. i am thankful for my Spirit and the gentleness of my soul.
though i may bargain, plead and sob...though i may fight and blame and self-destruct...though i may ignore, manipulate and covet...there is nothing i cherish more than the life that i have been given. i am doing all i can with what i have to become the greatest human being i can become...i am not perfect, and i am thankful to make mistakes and learn.
thank you, thank you, thank you.
thank you! thank you! thank you!
a thousand times: thank you for this life!
hari OM.
i am thankful for the experiences i've had, and the ones that have yet to be. i have a supportive family that loves me the best way that it can. i have fantastic friends. i live in luxurious surroundings: hot running water, a tub i can stretch out in, a queen-sized, comfy bed, my own spacious room, my own little art studio workspace, a toilet.
i have enough to eat, clean water to drink. i have plenty of clothes (probably TOO many!) to keep me warm and to use as a form of self-expression. i have access to health care, medicine, birth control. i see a therapist who genuinely cares about my recovery, and who charges a reasonable rate.
i am thankful for crescent moons and for the sound of crickets during twilight. i am thankful for the taste of tea and honey. i am thankful for being able to feel a lover's touch on my skin, the soft fur of a cat against my cheek. i am thankful for picking fresh herbs to put in my soup, for magenta roses that bloom in the sun. i am thankful for the vast ocean and the patient trees that give me shade and play music in the wind.
i am grateful for my yoga practice, which helps me endure the suffering of human life. i am grateful for smiling and laughter, for tears and sleep. i am grateful for my dreams, which i can always remember bits and pieces of, and for my gifts and talents. i am grateful for free time and leisure, for hard work and studying. i am thankful for the choice to be single, married, divorced, dating. i am thankful to be able to look people in the eyes and say, "I like who I am...at least most of the time. And I'm learning to love myself all of the time."
i am thankful for my arms and legs, for my strength and grace. i am thankful for my wisdom and for my sadness, for my passion and bliss. i am thankful for my voice, for being able to use it to speak my Truth. i am thankful for my right to vote, to be free and to pursue my version of Happiness--whatever that might be.
i am thankful for books and movies and for this illusion we call reality. i am thankful for Art and Beauty and for the shadowy parts of myself that i am learning not to fear. i am thankful that my heart, while it may break over and over again, has not yet turned stony or bitter. i am thankful for being female, for having the gift of giving birth to new life. i am thankful for my sensuality, my sexuality, my desires and my discipline. i am thankful for my Spirit and the gentleness of my soul.
though i may bargain, plead and sob...though i may fight and blame and self-destruct...though i may ignore, manipulate and covet...there is nothing i cherish more than the life that i have been given. i am doing all i can with what i have to become the greatest human being i can become...i am not perfect, and i am thankful to make mistakes and learn.
thank you, thank you, thank you.
thank you! thank you! thank you!
a thousand times: thank you for this life!
hari OM.
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