Sunday, June 30

Twirling Maddness

I feel like putting on a flowy girly long dress, walking into the middle of a grassy field and twirling endlessly while my skirt skirts itself like the song of a sufi dancer. That's what I feel like today. That's what I used to do when I was six or seven years old. I've always loved spinning, twirling, getting dizzy. I'd put on one of the dresses that belonged to my mom, short on her, dragging on me, then I'd walk to the center of our gated neighborhood and spin myself, with no one around, with nothing else stirring around me but that feeling. That's what I feel like doing today.

'Cause it's good.

Starting from the flustered hello's of the tattooed young man to the way my whole entire day has unfolded, that's what I feel called to do.

Funny thing though, I don't have a long girly dress to twirl in. I need to get on that like stat!

Saturday, June 29

On Magic and Books

Sometimes I forget just how magical I am. I really forget. I don't know why. Because it's just a fact of my existence. I am magical. Not unlike the mythical unicorns and faeries of old tales. I'm not convinced that they are tales anyway but that's a whole other thing. But then I'm reminded of it. Like I'll have a thought in some place and forget about it, I'll wish a wish, like a whimsical passing sigh-inducing kind of feeling that passes on, and I move on. And then somehow some way I'll end up back in that spot I made that wish, I felt that feeling, and lo and behold it has manifested into something magical, real, and tangible. It's like I'm this magical gardener who plants with thoughts and consumes with her senses the forms those thoughts have brought to life.

I like it. I like it a whole lot. I have it in my heart to keep writing about that.

I'm also reading a lot. I don't know what brought it on. And not like the non-fiction laborious philosophical mind bending stuff I've been reading for a decade. For over a decade that's all I ever did. I was constantly in deep thought annoyed by the everyday stuff of ordinary thought and enamored with the abstract spaces of consciousness. And then suddenly I walked into the world of fiction. It's a different world. A world of stories, a world of total and utter escapism where you live moments experiencing feelings and living realities you never experienced in your own everyday manifestation of life. Wow. The world of fiction within fiction within fiction is extraordinary, making you yield yourself to the power and color and feelings of worlds that weren't a part of your everyday experience. I've let myself get lost in so many stories that they're blending into this giant blur of an adventure. I'm allowing it. I feel like I'm reliving a childhood of play and wonder all over again in a completely new way.

I'll get back to the metaphysics, to the philosophy, and the deep undoing of everything I currently hold to be true. That will always be a way of being. And this? This world of fiction? That will be the elevator I ride from one magical moment of my own to the next. Somewhere along the way I have fallen in love, even more deeply, with the power and adventure of words.

Wednesday, June 26

Equality

Days like today say we're on the right track.

Equal treatment, equal offering, equal support, equal opportunity for every being on the planet is not something that should ever be up for debate.


Wednesday, June 19

Unsent Letters

I'm dreaming of the South of France and Northern Italy.
I'm dreaming of hopping flights to end up in scenes right out of my mind movie.
I'm dreaming.
I'm breathing.

I'm living in between worlds that have gone
And worlds that are coming.
I'm seeing.
You.

Sometimes it feels like a wormhole of some kind had swallowed me and then has spit me back out. That's when I realize I wasn't here but now I am. It's a strange feeling, to go for days and days and wake up one morning feeling like...oh hey, I'm here. Where have I been? Maybe we all travel through time and space and universes as unseen parts of ourselves take on missions that are greater than our little minds can understand. So we feel partially here and partially somewhere that our conscious minds don't understand. And when these missionary parts of ourselves return, we feel like our whole selves again. Perhaps?

I'm going to stop promising I'll stay in touch with everyone I keep promising I'll stay in touch with. I've decided that those hearts that are meant to be on my path and in my life will be there whether or not my commitments to earthly commitments and lifetime priorities make it evident how in love with them I will always be. I'm available. I'm not available. I'm available. To take and not take your call. A friend asked why I committed to write three books in one year. I don't know really, but the responses I get and the changes I see in those that take in those words that come through...I'm here to give all I can give so a ready mind and heart can fly to the center-less sun of our creative existence. What happened to our sense of connectedness before phones and the internet anyway?

Let's live in those times where we knew that we just knew how loved we were regardless of the number of words and voices and gifts that reached our eyes and hands and mouths. Love is all that is real, whether or not we succeed in showing up when we were and are supposed to show up. I'm always showing up. Just not in the forms you're used to or expect me to. I never leave the heart or the sides of the pieces of my self that show up as loved one's. But I have things to accomplish, minds to crack open, and hearts to fuel into the love of a great big something that we all think is nothing. That's what has my undivided attention more so than any forms of social and conditioned obligations. I wonder what kind of mother I'm going to be. Someday. A great one, I'll decide that right now too.

This is the letter I'll never send, the sentiment I won't put to words and send to particular eyes. There, I'll just be leaving it with...I'm sorry, I love you, I'll do better...next time.

Now back to our regularly scheduled hallucinations.

Saturday, June 8

Some Things Just Can't Be Written Off

Life is good. And quiet right now. It's always like this before things bubble up again and it gets even better. This is my birthday month after all.

My days are spent working through my various commitments - jobs, clients, books, dog, exercise. That's the gist of what fills up my right now coloring book. That and text messaging with family. Things bubble and I get the usual preview of things to come, inklings of passing thoughts in someone else's mind, and I shrug to myself hoping my telepathic replies reach the intended destination as my relied upon words through this blog are few and far between. That and the dream-scapade are my chosen platforms of play and communication. Expect me there and you'll find lots more info than in this little corner of the internet. I get a lot done when the body appears to sleep. And I'm assured that it is a much more vivid and lifelike delivery system than our electronic world currently offers us.

I've been off the internet more often than I'm on it - I've let go of my reliance on the world of social media to keep me posted on my friends and loved counterparts. I've replaced the time it takes to go through status updates with arts and crafts. I have glitter stuck in my finger nails as I write this and am 20,000 words deep into book #2, and have randomly started writing a love story which is about 10,000 words deep in the first week. It's an interesting process, where my metaphysical book feels like I'm bending myself in eight different directions to complete it (I feel stretched beyond description), this unnamed love story randomly presents itself to my mind in clips of scenes. I literally see the characters acting and talking in my head and then go to write about their life. It's been such a contrast in the writing process. But nonetheless, it all completely swallows me into different worlds, and I love it. 

I tune into life differently now, hovering above my life like a spaceship hovers above the earth. My ground is different and has been for what seems like months, but the whole idea of months is really childs play as time doesn't exist, nor has it ever existed. This is good. Because I'm not coming back "down".

The thing of it is, everything  I see is what's destined to be. There is no wiggling out of your own skin, that lifetime that is your whole body - you can tweak and alter and re-design, but the heart of it all is gratefully shaped by an untouchable hand, and how it has written it all out in the stars and in your cells, is what spells out the inevitable magic of who and what you really are. Who you are is an entire life-time, a streaming atmosphere of life playing out the play of materiality. So the thing to do is settle in the realization of the choiceless choice, the love in your heart that will paint itself into moments that blow your mind away over and over and over. You have flexibility in so much, but the love atmosphere that lives you, the ethereal wonder that paints you, that is just an un-erasable part of your makeup. Some thing's just can't be written off or denied, no matter what you tell yourself, because those love things are etched in a world beyond the plausible one you hold so dear. This incredible Love that writes us, is above and beyond us, the us that you take us to be.

So just enjoy all that there is to love and all that there is to be loved by. Hover along if you will or don't. We are firmly pasted on every possible stage and every possible page, and we have never been or will ever be anything that can be written off. You have never been without. Anything. Not even whatever version of me you think is missing or has disappeared. 


Sunday, June 2

Clean Energy, Clean Planet

We're going in the right direction: Germany has the world's first algae-powered building. The largest wind farm on the planet now sits in the southern hemisphere. France is building a completely solar-powered sports stadium scheduled to open in 2015.

Algae powered building in Germany

  Solar powered sports stadium (concept) - France

Baby Smiles as Meditation

You know when you're having a frazzled day and something pops up in your face to get you to slow down, get back to earth, and just remem...