The Land Where Time Exists

Oh, it has been so long. Years. Years have passed since writing last, and God only knows what has happened in the in-between. I had fallen hard out of love, shattered somewhere on hot asphalt, and all the kings horses and men couldn't fix me. I moved, and moved again. And again. And again. I was swept up in fairy tales, and swept down again. I lost myself, and found myself. And again. And again. So here I am, and with not much to show for it. I still revel in beauty, smother myself with it like a pig in mud. I still have clothes on the floor and tangled hair. I still sit and read, watch movies, write... I still pass the time with selfish indulgences and miserable tendencies to dwell. I still have no idea what I'm doing. So here I am, ingesting all the bits of me that couldn't be fixed. Eating my own self to create a new self. Breaking my teeth on my own bones. I couldn't be happier. It's true! My life is my own, and is full of all the Grace of God. My heart is the Sun, my body is the Earth, my sex is the Moon. I feel whole, I feel broken. I feel the un-touching parallel lines of the universe layering and laying on my skin, forcing me and coaxing me into form. I close my eyes and see snowflakes of sacred geometries floating vertically and spiraling downward. I open the great white wings of my heart and fly. I dream nightly of things to come, love to share, curses to break. I have allies in this world; allies from the greater void of being that came to save me, and I them. I attach myself and detach myself and am learning to rise up on the drafts. I am a bird, a witch, an angel, a goddess. I am all things, and love all things. In my suffering I find beauty. In my fear I find joy. In the chaos of the world, I find peace. I am in constant pain, sorrow, empathy, joy, light, passion, surrender. I strive to be more grateful, more giving, more understanding. I strive to be more of what I already am, never what I am not. I am so in love with this life.

love love love

"It's so easy to write about love," she said. "When you're in it. When you lose it. When it hurts you or heals you."

It's so easy to write about love when even its shadow consumes you. When you wake up like the dead in a cold sweat because you know something is wrong. When it's your father's tears in your dreams, or your sister's, or your lover's. It's easy to write about love when it's the story you tell yourself over and over so you can finally eat something. When time slows way down, way way down, so you can inspect the slightest memory.

It's so easy to write about love when you're falling, heart first and down a hundred flights of stairs. When it gives your heart wings because you know it's real... at least for now. When after all you've been through, you still have hopeless romance inside you.

"It's so easy to write about love," she said. "When it hurts you. When it soothes you. When its the only thing that sustains you."

apparently i can't let this go yet...

"...Hold your nerve
Keep your focus
There's something peculiar about the way you pay to save your soul
You forfeit your dream..."

"It's strange to think the songs we used to sing
The smiles, the flowers, everything: is gone
Yesterday I found out about you
Even now just looking at you: feels wrong..."

"...The snake behind me hisses
What my damage could have been.
My blood before me begs me
Open up my heart again.
And I feel this coming over like a storm again..."

"Feeling overload
Carrying bottled skies around
I've been drowning all along
Wearing out in a faltered sea
And I give up..."

"...Christmas night, it clutched the light, the hallow bright
above my brother, I and tangled spines
we smoked the screen to make it what it was to be
now to know it in my memory..."

...My heart is yours,
It's you that I hold on to,
That's what I do,
And I know I was wrong,
But I won't let you down,
(Oh yeah, yeah, yes I will)..."

for the man i haven't met

I forget what I looked like before you.
I’m pretty sure its nothing like now, because how could my face have held this much joy? How could my chest have carried this much love? My eyes would have been dim, my body thick with lethargy. I could have drowned in this love if it weren’t for the wings you made for me.

When I see you, I recognize your face as my own. Its when I look in the mirror that I get confused Your skin is my skin and my heart beats in your chest and all the loneliness you‘ve ever felt is within me, hidden in my blood and under my tongue.

You are the one person unafraid of my love. You rally under my love like banners of war, you taste the sweat of my love when you drink from the earth, you devour my love like the eagle and Prometheus and I have never felt so whole.

The flesh of your back was under my fingernails long before I ever knew you. You came walking out of the shadows of destiny and ordered a coffee, black, while your calloused hands reached for God in the back of a newspaper and found his personal ad seeking you, and when you dialed the number you dialed mine by mistake. In your voice was a six string guitar and something like rainstorms and now I lay open to you like your favorite blank pages. Your tongue strips ribbons of flesh from my thighs and our hearts pump each others blood in time with the tides and the stars fall into your hair like snowflakes from heaven when we visit my family for Christmas.

And for my part… It’s like finding the lost part of myself, and falling in love with it. I forget that I never knew you. I forget that thieves of my love swept away the dust of my heart into hallways and under rugs. I forget that it once took me fifty years to summon the courage to breathe again, to wake up again, to stand on my own to feet and sing halleluiah. Before I knew you, I must have been sick with this overflowing love, too full to hold it back in tears and sweat and vomit. I must have dulled the edges of my pain with anything I could find: a stray cat, alcohol, a toxic relationship. I must have failed in my faith in order to preserve my moment. I must have lost hope in finding you.

But your love is what created me. You reached into my dark pool of unrequited love and lifted out my pure and golden heart into the light. You made me wings so I could fly and survive the flood of love pouring over me. You saw the eternity my love was going to take from you, and embraced me.

If I have ever felt this way before, it was when I was in heaven. I swam in a river under majestic mountains and a cloudless red sky, and I knew love was only second to god. In those long moments my heart was as full as it was empty, was beating as fast as it was still. Forever felt like it had happened yesterday. And now, in reality, in the human flesh of experience, I look into your eyes and see rivers of forever, mountains and skies of love. My heart is as full as it is empty, an endless giving and taking between us. My heart beats as fast as it is still, finding infinity in measured time. You are mine.

just realized

The post about the words running circles in my head... those lyrics chosen tell a very unique story of what i was feeling. How interesting that they fit together like words of a single poem, not sections of several songs.

Let's see if it works again:

"The devil is not the nature that is around us, but the nature that is within us..."
"How did they find me, how did they know, this misconception of faith I'm about to let go?"
"Now that she's back in the atmosphere, with drops of Jupiter in her hair, she acts like Summer and walks like rain, reminds me that there's a time to change..."
"Til my sleeves have turned red, from all the truth that I've shed..."
"She may be young but she only likes old things...she sees mirages of mountain ranges, but in the blink of an eye it changes back to the open plain. Oh no she can't explain..."
"I say I'll care forever, and I mean forever, if I have to hold up the sky..."
"God and the devil alone could not have made you up, the two must have worked as one together..."
"Funny the way it is, when you think about it, somebody's broken heart becomes your favorite song..."
"Be my friend. Hold me. Wrap me up. Unfold me. I am small. I'm needy. Warm me up, and breathe me..."

...nature helps too

I don't know if it's beacause I'm doing massage again, or if it's got to do with the fact that I'm not chasing some useless boy around... hell, it could just be the ocean air or the view from the top of the hill.
I'm beginning to grow up.
I can feel it. I'm learning things about myself, and then changing or keeping them. I'm taking small moments for myself, and really using them for a purpose. I'm, learning what I need to be happy, like potted plants in my doorway, and a good solid view of nature. And somehow it includes handling my responsibilities.

I think I hold myself to a higher truth, and it's making me think my dad was at least partially right. I have high expectations for myself. I think he instilled them in me, but I also think that even if it weren't for him and his parental misjudgements, I would have a fear of failure.
But no. I take that back. If it weren't for him, I would feel much more powerful. I wouldn't fear never being good enough.
It doesn't matter. What I'm trying to convey, is that I know now that I am important to myself, if no one else. I am beautiful, and passionate, and even... gasp... smart. I can handle whatever blessings or curses come my way in life. That's not to say I welcome a curse... please, Universe, do not test me. But I am strong.
I am ready to LIVE this life. I didn't know I hadn't been.

an itch i can't scratch

I think I am a freedom junkie. I like the idea of droping everything and grabbing a suitcase or two, and peacing out of normal existnace for the open road. If I had any savings of my own whatsoever, it would have happened a long time ago. Fortunately (and unfortunately) I am not self-sufficient enough to drop it all. So I guess I don't get to.
What I might get to do is move every few months, like I have been. Once I'm done looking out the same windows every morning, or if my room is too messy, or if there's a for rent sign somewhere else... that's when I get this itchy feeling under my feet and I pack. Or redecorate. Whatever it takes to subdue the itch.
Someday I am going to take a huge road trip though. It will take a few months, but I will cross America and hit 49 states... I will have to save up a few thousand dollars, but I can do that. It will give me a good idea of where I might want to settle and make my massage/doula practice a reality.
I can't wait.