I'll probably be over the novelty of the hipstamatic soon...
Breakfast started off relaxed and with a surprise jab in a tender spot things turned sharp. It had something to do with that gotye video, and the illumination of pain. We emotionally charged into the muck and found a phantom limb, over ten years old and laced with red. It was once mine...
We sat around sipping toddies and talking. We speculated on where we should go and what we should do, and who else we could call. We wondered if any bars served eggnog. I sewed a patch onto my bag and we attempted a sidewalk stencil. We didn't go anywhere. And this is why I adore winter in the northwest. xo
"Visualize two circles side by side, not touching. This represents Duality, or Separation. But now visualize the union of the two circles such that the Centre of each is on the circumference of the Other. This is the Father-Mother Principle in Divine Union. Observe the oval geometry in the middle, known as the Vesica Pisces which resembles an almond shape or the shape of the human eye.
Here is a puzzle. How would you describe the 3-Dimensional view of this Vesica or Almond Shape? Here is a clue, and its something we've been kicking around for quite a few decades. The answer is The Rugby ball
The Rugby Ball is indeed one of the most powerfully symbols in all of this Multi-Dimensional Language of Light. This explains the bizarre global fascination for a game with billions of spectators who go into trance cheering the wild and unpredictable path of a bloated bladder ball, where everyone seeks bliss by participating in a cult that justifies the act of getting drunk, screaming praises and obscenities, perhaps no different than jungle behaviour thousands of years ago. I suspect that this is a healthy behaviour to tune out of our normal grind in society and work and release emotional pressures by venting at a ball game. This is Sacred Geometry at its best. Really it's a statement that sacred geometry exists invisibly in the mass consciousness. " (from this site)
Geometry has taken on a new significance since my trip in the bermuda triangle. I am so damn curious about the true nature of things, and I have an itch to see it for myself. xo
reminds me to celebrate change, also warns of an upset. I've been drawing mostly major arcana cards in the past few weeks. HMMMMMM.... I wish for the wisdom of the tarot to reveal itself to me, please! xo
I feel like I'm in a giant pinball machine, bouncing between the northwest towns, becoming lodged in unexpected nooks (some more comfortable than others) before being jounced around and projected across state to circus music and bright lights. I failed to limit my home-stay to three days, or do daily spiritual cleanses and have become congested. I found reunions, rites of passage and happened upon an early morning branding session, from which I remain faintly singed with envy. Also? Elijah lay beneath a daily swell of winter crows, immersed in their secret mutterings (yes pleasepleaseplease). Until then, hello portlandia, warm arms and rest. xo
I am on a quest for perfectthings. I have this idea that if I choose wisely, I can whittle my possessions down down down, and be ready for anything, anywhere. I want a coat that will keep me warm and translate from the city to the outdoors, from dreary seattle to bright and dusty burning man. A pair of pants that will never stretch and fit without public adjustments. Bright notes for joy and earth tones for camouflage. Winter to summer dresses and magic potions in tiny bottles with many uses (I want to be effortlessly luminous!) and just the right tools for making fire and food, decisions and defense, and art and craft. Ideally it would all fit in my car, if not on my back.
Yes, this is totally possible.
ps. I can cross off spoon and cup from the list.
pps. What I want even more than things? It's space.
Day 1 of 40 trying out japa mala mantra meditation. Still buzzing from the pig roast night, running into my wonderful vipassana roommate (very serendipitous indeed), among other shenanigans. It was simply one of those nights that blasts expectations out of the water and reaffirms convictions such as.... "what goes around comes around". I've also been re-reading Eat Pray Love which has got me wanting to experiment with more-fun less-austere meditation styles. The mantra I chose rings true on my palate, I look forward to honoring my divine self in the coming weeks! xo
Long rainy driving days with turkey breaks and I'm back in Oregon. I'm kind of in love with slow dampening of the pacific northwest. There's something sustaining about the dark wet winters where I can snuggle away deep with my thoughts and wants until sunlight breaks through. I think I depend on these periods of hibernation for synthesis and cohesion within. I'm happy to see the yin winter approach, and autumn is my champion of change.
Also, I am SO glad to be back in the land of well-crafted espresso drinks. I ordered a tea though.
I've been journaling steadily since junior high, which is about 17 years. Seventeen years, whoa! I still remember how that exalting jolt of freedom felt as I realized I could write... ANYTHING I WANTED. And so I wrote and wrote and wrote.
After trekking a hefty stack out to the temple last year, I gained a new appreciation for the weight of my words. I started a ceremony of burning those pages, but not before a final sift-through, a hopeful unearthing of patterns and gems amongst the soot.
Sometime several months ago I stopped keeping a journal completely. And this was a new kind of freedom; an experiment in honing my tools and clearing the field for new growth. It's been fun to see what themes have persisted, for I still write (about dreams and synchronicities and gratefuls, recipes and notes on the exquisite mundane).
And today I've got manifesting on the brain. For perhaps my favorite part of reading through old words has been watching my lists of wants turn into reality (and always in the most roundabout and unexpected of ways!)
So? In the spirit of putting it out there, here are some rough wants, options perhaps, for the next 6 months.
1. Work trade on a farm
2. A short term nanny gig
3. A cozily temporary cabin, loft, shack, tipi or room
4. Photography show
5. Learn carpentry or cobb house construction.
6. A reason and the means to go to India
7. Regular yoga and meditation
8. Visits with creatures
9. Sustainable candida freedom
Eagle medicine is the power of the Great Spirit, the connection to the Divine. It is the ability to live in the realm of spirit, and yet remain connected and balanced within the realm of Earth. Eagle soars and is quick to observe expansiveness within the overall pattern of life.
Eagle medicine is the gift we give ourselves to remind us of the freedom of the skies. Eagle asks you to give yourself permission to legalize freedom and to follow the joy your heart desires.
Bird dreams these days, breathlessly fierce and monumental. They say eagle delivers our prayers to the divine. xox
Do you ever have the feeling of repeating old patterns, yet seem unable to change them? Been kind of a debbie downer lately, maybe due to the changing weather, lengthening nights and uncertainty about the future. I always come back to the phrase "gleeful anticipation" when things are so unsure, a mantra for infusing magic and curiosity into my outlook. Gratefuls help too (colorful yoga studios, patterns and shadows, long hallways with wood floors, and safe returns) x
Moved by Jean-Michel Basquiat, and the documentary Wasteland. Frustrated by candida battles and insomnia. Warned by the 7 of cups, 10 of swords and 7 of disks. Energized from backbends, mandala doodles and khapalabhati breath. Cheered by puppies and compliments from strangers. Sf likes my yellow tights. xxxx
I hit a drunk bum in the head with a football. He stepped in between me and Mikey, just as John was finishing his sentence; something something....."hit in the head". The ball skimmed off his skull right into Mikey's hands and we all laughed at the coincidence of it all. No one likes being laughed at, especially after being hit with a football. It turned out ok though. xo
Yesterday I rushed sweaty faced and anxious to morning meditation. I made it with a few minutes to spare, and ended up staying for the lecture after the intro (about continuity of practice). The speaker reminded us how important it is to sit with others for support. So often I give myself a hard time for not having the willpower to practice on my own, be it yoga, meditation or other daily disciplines. For weeks after the vipassana retreat I felt Goenka's disapproving finger wagging in my face, "you MUST practice a minimum of TWO HOURS a day or you will be in DEEP SUFFERING..." My daily 15 minutes were swallowed by guilt and a sense of failure (I'm so dumb for being so hard on myself). The most surprising part of that retreat? It was the lovingkindness meditation we did on the last day. This was supposed to be a soothing balm for all those hours of austere vipassana. Compassion? I've got this in the bag.... or so I thought. What welled up instead was a seething hatred for our teacher Goenka. A hatred for his preachy manner, his jowley face and the way he said "luuurve" like a seedy Barry Manilow. Roiling hatred for his strict demands, transparent Buddhist propaganda and most of all? For being right. Whew! I am searching for a gentler way. xo