I’m frustrated by your ignore-rants. I’m frustrated from trauma felt long before you came along, dear one.
I don’t have much of an agenda tonight other than to say it isn’t worth so much of my time, so long as I’m simply wasting your own. I’m sorry I feel this way, even more sorry for you.
I have every right to proclaim the truth that I do sacrifice a great day daily. Not just for you, but for my own being.
There was a band, Adam Monaco Band, the lead drummer of which woke me up 8 years before I even looked in your eyes. His band had a song called Unspoken. They played every weekend and dug our vibes, where I fulfilled my duties as a barista as a part time gig at Starbucks and fed the most dangerous old souls, whipped cream with heaven on top.
“Talk Should Be Easy. I Can Hear You.”
I needn’t get into the cadence in his eyes or the gold shimmering from his face as he bore into my soul almost everytime I worked. Not many are privy to that information right now. It is simply because it is hard to admit that, when you fall hard, I fall harder.
It has always been this way.
I know why, but even I cannot articulate it yet because number one, I am not only human and number 2, I am not ready at this moment in time.
Tomorrow is a different story as it always is tomorrow, so maybe that is my cue to write chapter 7 out to it’s entirity tonight as I emerse myself in a time that soaked me in bliss.
Because I’m tired of being ignored. I’m tired of feeling ashamed for speaking my truth, bitching, ranting, finding humor in very tough situations, shining, and all around being me.
Fast forward years and many lovers later, unbeknownst to some …
I had a tremendously energetic reiki session a few weeks prior to going in to the hospitals for care, before I met you. You don’t know this, but I was in anguish over things you don’t understand right now because, again, I try to keep it light. I was in pain in all ways. And that is just the tip of the iceberg.
I laid on the table, and my reiki guide, mentor and spiritual guru held space for me as my body soaked in the violet fire emanating from below. It felt like a warm bath of energy, and that is exactly what it was rising up to greet my thirsty spirit, body and mind.
I had noticed that there were points of tremendous pain that I was taking on as a sacrificial lamb, fully well knowing what I had accepted before I came into this life to bring humanity back from the brink.
First my arm broke. He applied energetic pressure, heat and space. Then my feet became cold to the bone. At that moment I felt angels laying hands on my feet. Warmth enveloped them and it was then onto the next hurdle. My pelvic region started to break in two.
At this point I began to weep. I cried for God and the Devil and I gasped in despair as I asked the toughest question of all, “Why don’t we think to stop and pray for them, to love them?” I went into this ordeal about how I had denounced Satan and then finally accepted him into my life as, dare I say, my guide. To show me the most important part of myself or anyone’s self they will ever know:
Our dark side. And I mean it … black, blacker than black. Shoot to win, dark. Destroy to conquer, dark.
“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” “The pendulum of the mind oscillates between sense and nonsense, not between right and wrong.” … “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.” ~ Carl Jung
I bawled and wept and asked my master, “Did anyone stop to Thank Him?”
My master simply held space as I cried allowing me to rise from the table, shudder and twist and all around tremble from the depths of my core.
As I let out primal screams, I admitted, “I know I just have to let go, but I don’t know what I’m letting go of!” He says, “Allow yourself to tremble and feel this pain. Breathe deep and relax because you are not holding the pen now.”
I then returned to the pain in my pelvis, where he was concentrating his energy and hands. I cried as I realized what was happening. “I feel like I’ve just given birth.”
To which he replied ever so softly, “You probably have.”
I came home to tremendous pain once more in that region. I drew a bath and soaked, rocked, moaned and cried. Suddenly my womb opened up and like a mother in labor, I had died to self. I had passed my child. Very Literally. Alone, always.
A child I had wished for for over 8 years at this point; one I knew was of the greatest significance to this world.
Yet, this one was not in my timing.
So, there’s more to that story in the future…and not so distant past.
I recognize in that moment that he was there that evening to help me through the process of letting it go.
As if on cue, I send myself this song now. Maybe to you, too. I don’t know, as talk should be easier with you. It was. Why not now? If not now, then when?
I don’t know why I wrote tonight the way I did. I feel it is very disjointed, and I myself, am unsure of the connection between the two events, other than, both this recent experience and the experience of being awoken for the first time were both rebirths of extraordinary significance.
I’ve had many moments of dying to self. The first and the last being of utmost importance. Alpha and Omega. Story of our lives.
I guess I am just realigning my desire to tell you everything because, quite frankly no reply is simmering my blood. These are just examples of hours in my life. Mere hours. Yet they’re enormous. Imagine what the last 8 years held in both our lives, that we cannot tell one another because, at least for right now …
Talk Isn’t Easy. And, I Don’t Hear You. And, time is a factor.