The Year of Death

I hereby proclaim 2011 The Year of Death.  The Grim Reaper has struck again.

I friend just told me that she has lost 25 friends and family members this year.  It's only August.  I haven't counted how many in my life have gone in the last 7 1/2 months.

Today, an 80 year old friend of a friend found her 24 year old grandson dead in the bathroom.  He had fallen and hit his head.  Besides my friend, he was the only person she really had in her life who was there for her.  Twenty-four years old.  A young promising life.  That's the age of my youngest son.  Can you imagine?

My 14 year old kitty might be dying.  She's lost half of her body weight...I'm feeding her extra well and giving her kitty supplements but...

I've mentioned all the other death, dying, grief, letting go issues that I currently have going on in my life.  Death is definitely my Rite of Passage this year, and the theme of Burning Man 2011.  It will most definitely be my ritual focus.

Fuck you death.  I never thought I feared you before.  You got a grip on me.  I bow to your power.  All hail the Grim Reaper.  Scary bastard.

The Moon, She is Glowing, Flowing and Growing

Full Moon Tarot Reading

Question/Intention:

What do I need to know about my current struggle (with K and in general as K just represents a part of myself)?  Clarity in regards to my current struggle.

I'm embarrassed to admit that I'm still struggling in regards to my relationship with K.  But I am.  I hate that feeling of having lost my power.  At the same time, I'm pleased with my ability to give myself to love.  There is certainly nothing for me to be ashamed of because I've opened my heart and allowed myself to be vulnerable.  I'm the lucky one.  And I know that my struggle is not just about K and I.  I had so much going on in my life before this glitch in our matrix revealed itself.  Death/letting go/emotional overwhelm was already up in a big way before K pushed me over the edge and Death continues to assert itself. People in my life have been dropping like flies.  My mama is still dying. Dying is her life process right now and I'm more aware than ever how this life is a training ground for death and I'm grateful for every moment I have left to spend with her. But I continue to be triggered around K's and my relationship.  Various stuff comes up that throws me off kilter.  The hardest thing is the experience of separation, when we are out of sync with one another.  I've really lost my balance.  I'll be going along just fine and then I find myself falling into a void, as if I've lost my identify and I don't know who I am or what my role is. I don't know how to be his friend and not his lover.  I don't want to be his friend and not his lover.  It's like I was kicked off a train before I had reached my destination and it pisses me off.  It's an awkward and sad place or me.  Sometimes.  Not always.  Truthfully I'm quite fine, most of the time, but this tender hearted vulnerability has a grip on me.

I have been struggling with hope and fear.  I have fears and hopes about my relationship with K that I've been afraid to admit, that I have not paid full attention to.  Here they are, spelled out in this tarot reading.

These three cards represent:
Who I am, my heart.
What's going on for me right now.
The obstacle facing me, my challenge, what I need to integrate.

Who I am--The Two of Cups is upside down
What's going on for me--Ace of Cups is almost upside down also
My Challenge--Death (fuck you death)

Yes, I'm a water girl--Cups represent water. Emotions.  Ya think?!

Twos represent balance and are ruled by the moon.  My heart is receptive with a strong attractive force.  That's a good thing.  Of course I know this about myself and it pleases me.  I'm what Jerry calls a "warm woman".  Twos can also be very secretive and private, and I definitely am this way also.  This aspect of self arrives when I don't feel very safe and trusting which I don't right now.  I feel very vulnerable.  The Two of Cup and the Ace of Cups are interesting polar opposites because the ace is an outward thrust, it's about putting yourself out there, which is what I see myself doing when I tell the truth about what's going on for me, like when I write in this blog.  It's scary.    The two of cups in more inward and represents all the deep watery emotions surrounding sex...bingo, this is so much of who I am and what I'm about.  This is my heart.  My heart = love and sex.  This card often refers to two parts of the self, it also represents who we are in regards to another,  it relates to our sexual relationship with another.  For me, who I am is who I am in relationship with another. In this reading, it's about K.  Consider the name of this blog.  This card represents harmony and new love--new relationship energy (NRE) which is wild and sweet.  It's about unconscious desires and a heart full of love. The outcome of this card (not this reading) is union.  Well, maybe it is also the outcome of this reading.  We shall see.  I'm always seeking union.  This is who I am.  K tells me he isn't sexually attracted to me anymore and here I am, seeking union with him anyway.  Again, my sexual loving relationships is how I play out who I am.  With my K, with my husband, with Lover Who Is Not My Lover...


Funny it's about newness...?  And I can't ignore the fact that it's totally upside down.  All this good juicy energy that is trying to emanate from the Two of Cups is blocked.  There is a reverse flow. My receptivity is blocked, my power of attraction is blocked.  I seek union but it's not happening. 

Aces represent gifts and the Ace of Cups is the gift of love.  It's an outpouring.  It is the beginning of love.  NRE comes up again.  The Ace of Cups says that the root of what I am going through right now is big watery emotions.  Again, more newness, the beginning of something?  I'm diving in gracefully. Whoa.  Diving in gracefully?  I don't feel graceful.  I feel out of balance and awkward (sometimes I feel grateful moving through this, and I know I'm a harsh judge of myself). This is a feel good card--all about the feminine and being receptive to unconditional love.  Well, if this is what I'm going through it's surely in disguise.   I don't feel good and I don't feel unconditional love.  Okay, that's not true.  I do feel unconditional love, from both the love I'm giving and the love I'm receiving. That is ultimately true but not always my truth of the moment.


My obstacle, the challenge I need to integrate is the major arcana card--DEATH.  So I have something to let go of?  Really?  What?  Hope and Fear?  K?  My mom?  K to love me the way I want him to love me?  The Death card in tarot doesn't usually signify actual physical death but perhaps in this case it does.  As a metaphor, the obvious death is of my and K's relationship, or the ending of the way I want it to be, or thought it was.  Maybe it's a death of something else... This card seems to read pretty obvious and it's not in reverse. Just tipped to the left a bit--repressed.  I don't want to admit that I might be in denial.  I don't want to accept death, letting go, grief, loss.  I'm a hanger on-er.  This makes my heart hurt.   Too much death surrounding me.  But I know that death is always about rebirth.  Something transformed always rises out of the ashes. Something is definitely changing.  Am I the one dying and changing in some deeply spiritual way (of course) or is this challenge the obvious process I'm going through with K?  My mom is dying.  It's all connected for me. but I can't see the forest for the trees. 

Here is the root of my reading, the foundation.  My unconsciousness mind.  My body.  JUDGEMENT, another major arcana card.  Pretty much reversed also, at least very repressed, held back.  This card speaks of a decision I've already made but it's blocked.  Goodness, isn't it enough that this card already represents the unconscious?!  Judgement is about taking personal responsibility and owning myself and my life (I don't feel like I own my life right now), keeping my heart open and not judging others but holding them in understanding and compassion. Judgement offers the end of suffering (except that it's reversed so it speaks to my current suffering)  It's another rebirth, just like the death card.  It's also about telling the truth and healing wounds and NON-ATTACHMENT.  Attachment is causing my suffering.  I know that.  This is my root.  My strength.  The other day I told K I wanted to talk and my plan was to be very frank and honest with him about some things that were very clear to me about our relationship.  I was coming from a very open hearted space of self responsibility and feelings of love and compassion for both of us.  Then I got triggered and decided not to talk with him.

Another reversal.  The MAGICIAN is my recent past, what I've just been though.  And it is almost reversed with a strong, masculine, overbearing push.  Goals, passion, a sense of purpose, motivation.  It's already gone, pushed out. Too quickly?  Is this the sense I have about being pushed off the train before I reached my destination?  I've lost my passion, my sense of purpose, my power.  Did this sneak up on me during my on going relationship with K over the last 3 years or from being pushed off the train?  This card is about intention.  I thought that I had a strong intention but K didn't seem too.  But that's not true.  We both had/have the intention to love.  But all this stuff that gets unconsciously attached to love...I think for both of us...  I didn't want to force my agenda onto him.  Honestly, I tried to not have an agenda with him.  I tried to go with the flow and let our relationship organically unfold, evolve.  He recently told me that he had a totally different idea about polyamory how it is for me.  He said he didn't know what he was getting himself into (we never do, love has it's way with us, it's complicated.)  Although two years ago he told me if he stayed in this relationship with any longer, that our bond would grow and he would get attached.  But I guess he didn't.  Not to me as a lover he wanted to claim as his own anyway.  Not only do I feel like he pushed me off the train.  He fucking derailed it!  The Magician is a channel that brings ideas into physical form through intention.  I feel like I failed.  I was a lousy Magician with K.  The Magician also initiates sexual energy.  I stirred something up in K for sure, but was unable to maintain it with him.  I have a lot of sexual energy but I'm a submissive lover.  There was so much I once imagined that we could experience together sexually, but the fire never really got raging. The sex, when it happened, was good.  Good enough.  Mostly.  Sometimes it was really good.  I enjoyed it.  I adored his cock.  He used it well. He is a good lover.  But it's not my style to take the reigns and he wasn't picking them up. I wanted him to.  But his sexuality was so compartmentalized compared to the freedom of mine. He didn't want me the way I wanted him.  I didn't want to put pressure on him so I backed off. I practiced being content with what was, of being low maintenance for him.  I took what he gave me with appreciation.  I wanted more but didn't let myself yearn for it or suffer from attachment of wanting more that he was willing to give.  Not much anyway.  I was basically happy and content.  Or maybe in denial but I don't think so.  My role as The Magician was to awaken his sexual intensity to match my own.  That never happened.  My Shakti power failed me with K and the Magician has left the house.

The Son of Cups is what I'm thinking about.  Not reversed but pushed energy. Shiva.  Male energy that honors the female.  A nice quiet aspect of male beingness.  The son of cups reminds me of K. and I do think about him a lot.  It reminds me of my husband too and I think about him a lot.  The Son of Cups also represents the lover.  A lover's desire.  I have lots of desire.  And I think a lot about my desire and being a lover.  I think about K's lack of desire for me.  The Son of Cups brings the gift of himself/herself to his lover and I think about that, how I offered myself to K--how he offers himself to me.  And I still carry sacred visions in regard to him, visions that come from the deepest part of myself.  My heartsongs are very Rumi-est, and they allow for love to have its way outside of a rigid form.  The Son of Cups also brings what's unconscious to the surface so he helps with my unconscious Judgement stuff.  Put he is too pushed, not balanced.  This card tells me to meditate more.

Another fucking reversal.  This annoys me but it makes sense.  I've been feeling so unbalanced.  Topsy Turvy. Crap.  This is my near future.  Another two which is about balance but then not, because it's reversed.  So I'm UNBALANCED. I know that.  Look at her, she is holding twins.  We all know what it must be like to manage twins.  Not an easy task.  Here are my two parts, always pushing and pulling me in different directions.  She's handling it well here, but not really because this card is reversed.  She would be grounded in all that nice earth energy if she were upright, but she's not.  This is not a definite prediction of what's coming to me, but rather a warning of what it could be if I don't get my act together.  This is not an "Oh yea" card, "Look at all the awesomeness coming my way!"  This is a card that says I have a heck of a lot to handle and I better it my shit together fast if I want to pull it off successfully.  Git yerself balanced girlfriend!

Ah, the Ace of Discs.  How I see myself.  Not necessarily how I really am...perhaps not how others perceive me but this is how I see myself in relation to who I actually am--the reversed The Reversed Two of Cups.  Another ace which is about beginnings.  I'm always beginning.  I'm a big baby too.  And I want to be held and caressed and physically loved upon.  I don't like endings but I do like beginning.  Discs are grounded but this card is tilted so this energy is held back, repressed--just a bit.  I know I'm struggling with balance.  No doubt .  The Ace of Discs is an innocent but powerful creator, making ideas into reality.  I do that.  I try not to use my will too much to create because sometimes I get what I want that way but it doesn't always turn out so well.  I try to create with love, with my heart.

The Lovers.  Of course.  And of course they are reversed.  And of course, this is the position of my HOPES and FEARS.  Lord have mercy on me.  My unconscious projections.  Good thing I've had all these realizations about owning and honoring my hopes and fears along with my emotions.  Being a lover is on my mind and this card is about being in relationship with another.  And then there is the question, "Are we going to be lovers or not?"  I'm holding on this question in regards to K--I haven't wanted to let go of that possibility even though he's told me he isn't sexually attracted to me.  I suppose we have things on hold for now...his words.  I don't care (I do care) I still consider us lovers whether he wants to use his cock to make love with me or not.  His loss (and mine).  I'm equally afraid of both my hopes and my fears in regards to this question. What I hope for, I also fear.  Part of me tells me to just move on.  Another part refuses to do that.  This card is reversed, for one thing, because I've made it so personal.  It's not really about me loving K specifically, but I've made it about him. There is a lot of sexual energy in this card.  I surrendered myself to K, sexually.  I gave myself up to him and he didn't claim me and I was still waiting (patiently) for him to do that when he kicked me off the train.  Ouch. And ultimately I know very well that it was the force of love itself that I surrendered to and that is a beautiful and amazing thing.  Yet I still get lost in the fact that it was K who embodied the possibility for me to love.  I'm sexually attracted to so very few men and I was able to go for it with him, to that place that lovers go. But he did not allow himself to go there with me.

Finally, a card that is not reversed!  The Seven of Wands represents a person in my psychic space, my environment.  Someone close to me.  Let's see, who am I obsessed with?  Who am I addicted to?  Who am I in love with?  My husband, K, Lover Who Is Not My Lover (who I've been choosing not to even see because my life is too complicated right now as it is and I can only spread myself so thin.) Sevens are about inner work and self reflection.  All three of these men throw me head first into that boat!  The Seven of Wands is about taking personal responsibility.    It's about telling the truth.  I trust that K has done that with me.  At least to the best of his ability--he's told me how it is for him, and I respect that.  I don't necessarily agree with him, not that I necessarily disagree with him either.   But I do think there is more to the story.  I challenge his truth of the moment.  This care reflects a verbal exchange and also, sexual energy  along with that deep purpose that I part of me seems to have lost.  I know K serves a deep purpose in my life and I believe I also serve a deep purpose in his.  The person this card represents is extremely significant in my life, it's not about superficial communication but soul connection.

I pulled several outcome cards.  All wands, just like the person in my psychic space card.  I need a major arcana card for a definitive outcome and one finally came after four pulls.  I have some stuff to move through, that's for sure.  This first one is the Six of Wands.  And she's almost reversed, as usual.  Of course, sixes represent decisive action!  Ha.  Six of Wands also represent personal power which I haven't been experiencing much of as of late.  She is in command of the situation, self confident and balanced. She is a Shakti (sexual energy goddess) and she is victorious.  Well, here she is all her glory with all that fine energy blocked!  I sense too much male energy here and the need to surrender.

Here's the second outcome card I pulled.  The Five of Wands.  Not reversed!  And why should it bother to be reversed since fives are all about struggle!  But the Five of Wands is about fighting fair. There is a conflict that needs to be resolved but it is done with love and respect.  Well, that's a given with K and I.  Pressure is released in small, contained explosions (and the only explosions so far have been my tears) and my anger that gets released in my husband's direction because I feel safe with him. Each  person's voice gets to be heard and each view expressed.  Another card that represents the rebirth and harmony.  Nice.

Interesting huh, my third outcome card is the Four of Wands (yes, these cards were shuffled well).  6...5...4...and it's upright too! Stability.  Thank the good lord!  Magic happens in the gap created by the 4!  The Four of Wants is a rite of passage...this years theme at Burning Man!  It's a joyful celebration.  It's a passing from one stage to another.   There is an integration with male energy in this card.  There is thanks and appreciation and blessings from divine realms.  Oh my.  I'll take a double helping of that please.

And finally, my major arcana outcome card--JUSTICE.  Setting things right. KARMA. If I've been hurt (I have been), it's time to let that go.  It tells me that my efforts to understand my situation will pay off and that I am coming into awareness about my place in the scheme of these things.  Yes, exactly, this is what I have lost and have been floundering around trying to find.  My place with K.  There will be sign from the divine to guide me.  I feel so blessed and guided by the moon at this time!   This card brings BALANCE, and a sense of peace.  What I've been waiting for happens.  What I need, I receive.

A pretty outstanding reading I'd say.  And I admit...it gives me hope...and admitting that...fear.

My zen mama titties.

Hope and Fear

My first Burning Man, 2006, the theme was Hope and Fear.  I took on a personification of the Zen Mother admonishing my children to banish both hope and fear.  It seemed that the popular viewpoint of the burning masses was to give up fear and rely on hope as their saving grace.  I didn't buy into that party line.

I'll be arriving on the playa at just about this time, two weeks from today, and I'm bringing the t-shirt I wore that year--with the words, Abandon Hope and Fear All Ye Who Suckle Here written on the front, with holes cut out that expose my nipples.  Easy access for nursing infants seeking solace from their mother's milk along with her zen wisdom.

Early Sunday morning, with the full moon still visible in the dawning sky, I began my ritual to regain some of my spiritual, earthy, wise woman, juju.  Standing there with my outstretched arms, beseeching my moon mama/soul sister/wise woman mentor, the personal meaning of my current struggle with hope and fear dawned on me.

Not that my path isn't still confusing and overwhelming tricky to follow, but I realized with a deep visceral understanding, how important my emotions are to my particular spiritual path.  I'm a water girl through and through.  I feel things deeply.  I create with my emotions, to my betterment or detriment.  I knew in that moment, to an extent I've never been aware of before, my harmful practice of rejecting, hiding, not fully owning and experiencing my negative emotions.   And I'm not a Polly Anna.  I don't attempt to portray myself as Little Miss Cheerful while I'm secretly grinding my jaw in resentment.  I'm not a person who fakes positivity to herself or others.  But, I am aware that my mind and the stories it creates, also create negative emotions (depending on the nature of the story of course) and that wallowing in emotions makes the pain body bigger, and stronger, and that the pain body loves to hurt, and that indulging in negative emotions is like pouring salt on a wound, flaming the fire...and, well, I try to avoid doing that as much as possible.  I know better than to repress, but repression hides, it's insidious, covert. That's its nature.

And all this managing of my negative emotions is directly related to my hopes and fears.  A big part of my spiritual path is to not indulge myself in hope and fear.  Of course I do a lot of both because I'm not a fully enlightened human being and that's what we humans do a lot of--hoping and fearing.  But my practice is to accept things as they are and if I want things to be different, I hold the intention for them to be different while doing whatever practical (or impractical) thing I can think of to make them different.  Living a fear based life isn't attractive to me and I tend to think of myself as not a very fearful person although if I give a true assessment, I'm pretty darn scared of a lot of things--such as being abandoned or not good enough, or being abandoned for not being good enough just to name a few.  I try not to hope for things to be different because hope implies that things aren't perfect as they are.  And I do hold this lofty idea that things are actually perfect as they are, even if I want them to be different--that's perfect to.  And confusing.  So things are perfectly imperfect right now and they will also be perfect if and when they change, and it's totally okay for me to want them to change and to work (or not) for them to change, as long as I'm not attached to them changing and that would include not hoping they will change.  Like I said, confusing.  There is a difference that I won't even attempt to put into words right now, between hoping things will change and intending things to change.  Hoping bad.  Intending good.  Wink, wink.

All that said, I hope a lot.  I really do.  And standing under that beautiful full moon, I took some deep ownership of my hoping.  I realized in that moment how much I needed to fully embrace my hopes, to love and cherish them.  My fears too.  So I held out my hopes and fears and I shared them with the moon and she shined her soft morning light upon them.

So right now, I'm attempting to fully honor and embrace every last one of my hopes and fears, and I intend, once they are fully experienced, when I'm ready,  I will release them.  And I know, that fully experiencing things takes time.  It is a long process that involves a lot of experiencing and letting go, grasping back and tenaciously holding on until I release again. And so on the circle goes.

But I just gotta say, that Sunday morning with that beautiful full moon and her powerful juju--she shined her blessings on me.  She loved me.  She loved my hopes and fears, and accepted every part of me as only a mama, soul sister, wise woman mentor can.

Calling On The Full Moon to Return My Spiritual, Magic, Earthy Juju

I'm depressed.
My spiritual path sucks.
But it's the only thing that makes sense to me.
I'm just going to ramble here...

I'm struggling with the balance of wanting what is and selling myself short.
What the fuck does that even mean?
I know that attachment does me in every time.
I know that when I release attachment I release my suffering.
But sometimes a girl just has to be where she is.
After all, there is no place else to be.  Right?
Where is that fucking balance between accepting the reality of what is and wanting what I want?
And there are two realities of what I want, that I'm not sure I'm capable of writing about in a clear and coherent manner.

Here it is, what I don't want.  I have it.  I must accept that this it is.  I don't have to like it but I have to admit to its presence in my life.  This is the part I'm always trying to deal with in a positive way.  Utilize its present in my life by finding the value of it.  I have it,  so I might as well want it and use it for something good.  Right?  Sometimes it's difficult to want but bottom line is that I have to deal with it.  I have to accept its presence in my life even if I don't accept it as a good thing.  But here's the clincher--this acceptance thing.  Bare minimum I can accept it as a non avoidable fact, at least for the time being. The next best thing is to accept it as a good thing.  Accepting it as a good thing simply means that it's good because it's here.  It doesn't mean that it's ultimately good although it may be.  That factor is unknown.  But it is good for some reason or else it wouldn't be here.  Maybe it's here because it really is a good thing that will better my life and I just don't see it that way at the moment.  Maybe it's good because I need to get rid of it or change it, and it's the experience of the particular process of dealing with it that is good.

If I'm attached to not having this thing, then I suffer.  It's not the wanting of things to be different that makes me suffer, it's my attachment to things being different that makes me suffer.  So acceptance and attachment (or non attachment) are two very separate things.  This shit makes me talk in circles.  It makes me feel mentally ill.  This is my spiritual path?  Fuck me.

I try to want/love whatever is here while it's here.  That doesn't mean I need to keep it around.  I can even actively work on getting rid of it.  It's just that if I become attached to being rid of it, then I suffer. Is this process I'm trying to describe as crazy making for you as it is for me?  And that's not even the difficult part.

Here's the difficult part.  I struggle with keeping my balance in the reality of what it.  I know (at least I believe from what I've learned up to this point in my life) from experience that I must allow myself to fully experience what is.  What is, has two parts--first, it is this thing in my life that I don't want; second, it's my emotional reaction to this thing.   There is the truth, the ultimate truth of whatever is, and then there is the truth of the moment.  The truth of the moment may be that I'm angry, sad, depressed, wanting to throw a fit, scream, cry, feel sorry for myself, resist, deny the reality, hope for something different, fear that what I think is, actually is...on and on.  The ultimate truth may be that all is love, all is good, all is perfect just as it is, yada fucking yada.

Here is my dilema:  My spiritual path tells me to get to wanting what is, as quickly as possible.  That's the best way to possibly deal with it.  My spiritual path also tells me to fully experience my emotions and truth of the moment, whatever it is.   I know that fully experiencing my emotions will best allow me to come to that place of wanting what is anyway.  So why do I struggle with all of this so?

I think it's my different parts.  There is the big ME and the little me.  Both me.  Both important.  The big ME knows that there is only love and that all is good because love is good and that's all there really is.  The big ME knows that's whatever is, is love, and it accepts this love in whatever way it manifests.  The little me says, "What the fuck?  I don't want this!  I want love to manifest in this particular way.  I don't want what I have and I want something different and I want it now!  Get rid of this other shit and give me what I want and give it to me right NOW!"

I really don't know how to balance these two parts.  I love that little me, as spoiled and unreasonable and clueless as she can be at times.  She deserves to be heard but not perhaps indulged.  But she wants to be indulged.  She is crying and unhappy and she wants to pout, and throw a temper tantrum and, well, er, you better indulge her or she might burn the fucking house down.  Get it?!

Besides,  I'm making fun of her and she's not all that bad.  In fact, she's not bad.  Unruly and a bit undisciplined yes but she is a free spirit and wasn't meant to be tamed.  Just taught.  Truthfully, I do believe that she deserves to have what she wants.  And I want her to have what she wants.  Because ultimately I believe that that is why she is here.  To get what she wants.  Yep.  I believe that.  To get what she wants in the way she wants it.  And that is okay too.  Yes, she does get a little, er, a lot confused sometimes and that's why big ME, is a part of this whole story too.  big ME is a good guide.  And it's not like little ME getting what she wants is the whole story, but it is a big part of the story.  I believe that this human journey is a lot about getting little ME what she wants.  She can't do it without big Me.  Besides, little ME isn't only selfish--all about meMeME.  Little ME wants to do good in this world.  It's little Me that allows big ME to even be here.  Well, visa versa too.  So it's all about my parts working in harmony.  That's my struggle in a nutshell!  This human journey is a tough nut to crack!

I think I sell myself short.  I get lost between these two parts of myself.  And that's who I am--these two parts.  I've spent a good portion of my life over indulging the untaught little ME and that gets me no where good.  Denying big ME gets me no where good either.  Fuck.  Do you understand why this is so fucking crazy making?  I feel like I've lost my spiritual, magic, earthy, juju.  I feel stupid and powerless.  I feel pissed off.  I'm angry at myself.  I'm lost and confused.  I'm furious.  I'm sad.  I'm depressed.

As a whole, I'm getting by, I'm surviving.  I'm even doing pretty damn fucking good even though I'm angry, sad, and depressed.  I'm also happy a good portion of the time.  Content.  Peaceful.  But I don't no where to go with all of this.  Little me is afraid to talk.  Little me is filled with hope and fear.  I'm tempted in wanting to banish hope and fear.  I even thought to do a ritual to get rid of it.  Big ME knows that hope and fear is a big fat path to no where that is screwing with little me's mind.  But I'm also thinking that I'm just needing to fully embrace all of my hopes and fears.  How do I embrace them fully and then let them go?  That's my question of the moment.

I need some full moon magic to get my juju back.

My Girl Is Here

An exceptional day.  Love my lovers.  Love loving my lovers.  Life diving into life.  Love diving into love.   One of my lovers just called to tell me what a heart opening experience he had with us this last week.  It was the same for me...for each one of us.

An exceptional weekend.  An exceptional week.  My girl came to be with me.  Cloistered in the house together, receiving a few visitors.  And out and about a bit...thrift stores to inspire our sewing.  Food.  Friends.  Music.  Our boy was here too.  With his girl.  Other family and friends.  Life is diving into me right now.  Love is diving into me.  I am diving into life.  I am diving into love.

Love to sleep, the three of us intertwined.  Too warm to touch but too sweet not to.  Back and forth from side to side, coming together, pushing apart.  To the left and to the right.  I love the close physicality.

The push and pull.  Open and closing.  Separating and coming together.  Fear and love.  Love and fear.

Feeling an outtasortness with K...but not really.  A spot in me that realizes it's out of balance.  Unsure but sure.  Trusting...mostly.  Noticing the edge and trying to stay aware while wanting it to dissipate.  Yearning for the oneness.  Resisting the separation...but not always.  Feeling myself loving him.  Feeling him loving me.  Being the love. Being angry too.   And sad.  Appreciating.  Wondering. Trying to live in the moment without hope or fear.  Allowing what is.  Allowing for what I want too.  Wanting what is.  Wanting him.  Wanting myself.

Missing B.G...

I'm wondering about the whole concept of having a nice fuck buddy.  I've never been able to pull it off...

Really grateful that my husband loves to fuck me.  Loves to make love to me.  Wanting him.  Wanting all my lovers.  Always wanting all my lovers.  Always wanting.

Three Poems

I've been sorting through old papers and just ran across three poems from twelve years ago...

This first poem was written to me by the first woman I every fell in love with on August 3, 1999.  It was a fast and furious affair but she was a lesbian and broke off with me because I was married...to a man.  One day shortly thereafter, we ran into each other, she with a group of friends, and me alone--this poem arrived in my email the next day:

bee one bee two

I have been known to break my own rules
I thought as I watched them
watch her
walking up to the counter
secretly I feel a sadness
emerge from my pockets
and out from my beenie it falls
over my eyelids
soft to the touch and unto my cheeks
certainly as it falls
it fills me with hope
still as I am...
immobile...
my day burdened
by the honey
from her hands.

Three weeks later I saw her at a community function and wrote this one on August 30, 1999

I saw her on Sunday
in red hair and tee shirt tugging at her breasts
watching discreetly, I wanted her to see me
it was understood that we would offer no recognition
but her face...
indelibly etched in my mind the remainder of the day.

The third poem was about a dream I had about my eldest son, Brandyn...12/19/99

His letter to me was written in blue ink
between the advertisements for feel better drinks.
What he needs to heal--
an understanding community
a change of mind
lots of love and he'll be fine.

Relationships As Pathways to God

I'm reading John Welshon's book One Soul, One Love, One Heart:  The Sacred Path to Healing All Relationships.

In the foreword Baba Ram Dass says:

As a psychologist back in the 1950s and 1960s, I saw specific relationships in terms of their ability or lack thereof-to fulfill whatever emotional or psychological "needs" the people involved seemed to experience.  But over the past forty years, as my consciousness has become more and more identified with Spirit, i have come to treat relationships as pathways to God.

Ram Dass tells a story about love, truth and anger.  It was a very difficult time for him and he was experiencing a seething hatred toward just about everyone until it burst forth and he actually threw a plate of food into a sweet young man's face.  His guru, Neem Karoli Baba (Maharaji)  witnessed this, pulled him close, and reminded him to love everyone and tell the truth.

A quote from Neem Karoli Baba:

The best form in which to worship God is every form.

So Fucking Fragile

I've been so fucking fragile lately and I'm trying not to beat myself up too much for being such a wimp.  The slightest thing just sends me off.   I've been an incredible cry baby and when the tears start they seem to want to flow and flow.  I'm watching myself take EVERYTHING personally.  I tell myself not to go there but do I listen?  It's all about ME folks so please don't forget that.   I'm so self-absorbed.  I loathe...have I mentioned before that I LOATHE playing the role of the victim?  If there is any possible way that I can point the finger at someone for doing me wrong...I absolutely despise that position.  Today I went wine tasting with my husband and a friend simply because I knew I would end up feeling abandoned if I didn't go.  And one abandoned is obviously the victim and I just couldn't bear the prospect of that.  Plus, staying at home crying just didn't seem to serve me.  So I went and actually enjoyed myself.  I'm so ready for this all to pass.

Raw

I am raw. Tears flowing nonstop for over an hour and a half now.  Trying to pull it together so I can go out and see my husband perform and enjoy the rest of the night.

Remember the Code

Last night I dreamed I was on a journey:

I was walking and leaving a "place". There was some code I was to remember.  I had keys in my hand.  On the way back to this place, (I had been somewhere) I saw some friends and I was tempted to not stop and connect with them but to continue on to whatever was so important.  But I stopped and chatted for awhile and then continued on my way.  I had forgotten the code. I started jogging to make up for lost time and then it started raining.  I had a way to go so I stuck out my thumb and started hitchhiking.  A few cars passed me by and then one stopped.  There were two men inside.  I had a large box which I put inside the backseat and then panic hit.  I scanned the inside of the back door to see if it was rigged in a way so I couldn't open it from the inside and it looked weird somehow.  There was no way that I was getting in that car.  I thought I'd probably just watched too many scary cop shows and actually said that out loud--then I asked the one who was driving if I was safe with them--he shook his head and said no.  I tried to run away but I was caught in that "secret saboteur" thing that happens in dreams where your legs don't work right you can't move very fast.  I was on the ground. He got out of the car and caught me.  I hoped for another car to come along, to see what was happening and help me.  I remembered my "box" was still in the car and knew I was going to have to abandon if I got away.  The box now actually had someone inside of it, like a small child or my baby self.  I needed to protect it but I was in no position to do so.

I'm contemplating the "self" this morning.  All this "dying" I've been experiencing. It's the death of a self that isn't really me.  Or my mom.  Or...

Of course all these selves need their due, but it's so easy to get lost in the drama of a dream when the real meaning is right there in the code.  I was suppose to remember the code.  I keep forgetting the code.

The Depth Of My Being

Today I've been sewing and thinking about sex.  I just finished working on two summer dresses!  I tend to think about sex a lot and today the theme was how connecting sexually with someone is sacred to me. 


I'm not a trained tantrica who can pretty much accept anyone as a spiritual partner and make the energetic heart-genital connection happen. And although I'm very sex positive and horny a lot, I'm not an easy going, friends with benefits, sort of woman--even though I have gone that route a couple of times and it was fun. Mostly I've been quite picky when it comes to sex partners--not purposely really, it's just that I'm sexually attracted to very few men.  What I've learned about myself is that I need to trust someone and my heart needs to be very open to loving them in order for my yoni to want to open and receive them as a lover.  Sharing myself sexually is a spiritual gift, given freely from my heart when the love is there, and when I feel safe that I will be cared for in what I know to be an emotionally and physically vulnerable space for me.  It's not that I'm a particularly high maintenance lover either because basically I'm pretty easy going--but it's true that I do have issues of abandonment.  Sex and unconditional love make a sweet partnership for me because it's a piercing that plunges into the depth of my being.

Sleeping In Their Bed

Well, I must say that there is nothing like a good night's sleep without crazy dreams to give one an attitude adjustment!  I slept so well last night.  I often don't get up to pee but I usually have to at least sit up several times for a drink of water.  Last night I was crashed!

But now I'm reminded of a dream I had almost a week ago that should be written down:

My husband. and I were out at a party with a bunch of people including K. and his wife B.G.  It was very late and we (my husband and I) ended up back at K. and B.G.'s house.  They were going to be out of town for awhile and we had arranged to "housesit" for them.  We were actually heading home to our house but for some reason we were at their house and it was late and I was tired so I told my husband that we should just sleep there in their bed and go home in the morning.  He agreed so that's what we did.
In the morning I was trapped in a hypnopompic transition, both in my dream body, sleeping in K. and B.G.'s bed, as well as in my physical body, sleeping in my own bed.  I was agitated and confused, unsuccessfully trying to wake up while attempting to make sense of why I had decided to sleep in K. and B.G.'s bed.
What were we doing in their bed when they weren't leaving until that night, not the night before?  How could I have been so stupid and confused?  What was I thinking?  Where were K. and B.G. now?  Had they gone to our house to sleep because we were in their bed?  That concerned me because my house, and particularly my bedroom was a mess and I didn't want them to see it because I was afraid they would judge me. My mind was wreaking havoc with me, I was struggling and quite distressed. I finally woke up (in my dream) and went rushing through their house, naked, to find them.
I found them on a blow up air mattress in their family room.  B.G. was sitting up and looking at me somewhat strangely as if to ask why I had been sleeping in their bed.  I tried to explain how confused I had been, and still was, and then she explained how she had come home late, in the dark, took off her clothes and fell into the middle of her bed between me and my husband before realizing we were there.  K. and her were then trying to figure out what to do and she said they should go sleep on the air mattress.  He had asked her very pointedly if she was sure that was okay with her and she affirmed that it was.
I left them and their air mattress feeling extremely out of sorts, trying to make my way back to their bedroom, very aware of my nakedness and feeling vulnerable, with their house now full of various friends as if a party was going on.  When I got to their bed, I told my husband to get up so we could get out of there.  I was embarrassed, confused, and just wanted to go home.  I was extremely unnerved.

Emotions I experienced in this dream:

Embarrassed
Confused
Distressed
Vulnerable
Afraid
Agitated
Unnerved

The 23rd Psalm

The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want. 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: 

He leadeth me beside the still waters. 

He restoreth my soul: 

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake. 

He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: 

He leadeth me beside the still waters. 

He restoreth my soul: 

He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for His name' sake.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,I will fear no evil: For thou art with me; 

Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me: 

Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies;Thou annointest my head with oil; 

My cup runneth over.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, 

and I will dwell in the House of the Lord forever.

I visited with my mama this morning and was reading some of the grimmest passages out of the bible.  At one point she says to me, "He's really scolding someone."  Yes, talk about a fucking angry God.  Sheesh.  I wasn't sure she could be of any help but I asked for some guidance with the Psalms and she said the 23rd.  My mama knows her bible.

I don't think anyone would ever confuse me with a Christian, bible verse loving, girl but I've always appreciated the 23rd Psalm as well as a few others (even though I rarely care to remember what book the verses come from or how to recite them verbatim.)  I know the 23 Psalm has always offered my mother comfort.  My grandmother too. 

God damn have I been in the pits, or "the valley of the shadow of death" wouldn't be exaggerating none.  I'm just having a difficult time snapping out of it.  After visiting with my mom, I took myself out for a some shopping therapy.  First I hit World Market for some wine and fancy pasta.  K. got me a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon for my birthday that I really enjoyed and I was hoping to fine another bottle of it and I scored.  I also found a cheap bottle of white wine for the olive oil, garlic and wine sauce I'm making with two of my granddaughters for our veggie pasta dinner tonight.


Then I hit Costco and found a bunch organic raspberries and blackberries, a bottle of tequila and organic blackberry sorbet popsicles.  I also bought myself more reading glasses because there is a reading glass elf in my house who steals my glasses in a similar manner as the infamous sock stealing elves who live in most people's clothes dryer.


I'm still depressed but oh well, at least I got out of the house and I am looking forward to the overnight visit with my granddaughters who I'll go and pick up in a couple of hours.


Plus my sweetheart is coming to stay with me for a whole week.  OMG I'm so happy.  I need her so bad.  Or is it badly?  I know my command of the English language is atrocious.  Does my awareness of that make it better or worse?  I swear, I am getting English for Dummies ASAP!


This writing is making my life bearable right now.  Again, I'm sorry to be so pathetic.  I can barely stomach my own victim hood but I just can't seem to pull myself out of it.  If feels like someone took a crap on my karma.  Now I wonder who that could be?


Plus what really sucks is that I can't figure out if my awareness of what a truly blessed life I live, is making me feel better or worse.

Old Lazy Days

I've been awake for way too many hours already--tossing and turning for half the night in a half sleep, disturbed by thoughts that I am dying of cancer.  WTF?!  I don't do this.  This is so not me.

Another friend died a few days ago and only 4 weeks after he was diagnosed with colon cancer.

My mama is dying.  I know I keep saying this but she is still dying.  The living part isn't so great these days but there are moments of sweetness that I'm clinging to.  I was just talking with a friend who lost her mother recently and she said that even though it's difficult, it's also very life affirming.  I get that.  It feels like I'm preparing for a birth.

Another river of tears this morning.  Grief has gotten a grip on my insides.  So much loss everywhere I turn.  What is wrong with me?  Why am I judging all this loss so harshly?  Why am I judging myself so harshly?  I'm feeling so worthless.  Pathetic is a good word to describe myself right now.

An old friend visited yesterday and it made me sad.  He's not a friend any longer.  I felt the loss.  I used to care so much about him.

My lover doesn't want me (as his lover) anymore.

There is a hole in my life where my juicy women were.

I miss the old lazy days of lounging with my girlfriends and yakking incessantly.  Girlfriends who didn't care about my worth, only my heart and loved me in spite of my foibles...and defects that weren't so slight.

Maybe I don't really miss those days.

But my defects are definitely looming larger than foibles.

On a brighter note, I'm cleaning out the motorhome and got the refrigerator all sparkling clean and cold.  Preparing for Burning Man feels good.

I need my best friend to come and stay with me for several long lazy days of yakking incessantly and loving me in spite of my large looming defects.

Sex Sounds

I've been listening to my neighbor in the back house making sex noises all day.  Someone is fucking her really well.  I actually think that it's the house sitter that is making these noises as my neighbor's car hasn't been around in awhile and I saw a young woman I don't know going into her house.

Whoever it is, her noises are fabulous.  It sounds like new relationship sex and someone is giving it to her very deep and very hard.  Very slow and repeatedly.  In and out.  In and out.  Plus, he must be loving on her pussy and pleasuring her with his mouth until she bubbles forth.  Again and again. Part of me loves her sounds and they most certainly added to my horniness and where me and my husband took our sex play tonight.

Another part of me has been agitated by her sounds--this morning they reminded me of how K. isn't interested in having sex with me...but that awareness didn't stop me from opening the side door to make her sounds more audible. All in all, I am pleasantly pleased with her beautiful moans.  I love the sounds of lovemaking!

Love is good.  Fucking is good.  Making love is good.  Crying out in sex because that cock feels so damn good inside of your pussy, is an awesome gift.  Being human is outrageous!

Watching Dan Savage with Bill Maher right now.  Appreciating my life.  Today I sewed a lot.  Talked to my BFF who may be coming to stay with me for 5 days...(fingers crossed, hope and pray).  Had a nice bike ride.  Dinner with friends on the river.  Friday night concert in the park and sweet connections with friends I haven't seen in awhile.  Good wine with good friends at a good restaurant.  Making love with my husband who now rubs my feet while I blog.   Texting with another love under the full moon.   Tomorrow we'll be in a boat, on the lake with kids and grandkids.

I am blessed.

Life is good.

The Gap

From Chapter Six of When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron:

The most fundamental aggression to ourselves, is to remain ignorant by not having the courage and the respect to look at ourselves honestly and gently.

It's a lifetimes journey to relate honestly to the immediately of our experience and to respect ourselves enough not to judge it. 

Here's the rub yes?  Letting go of the judgment.  It's difficult to want something and to have that thing pulled away from us and then to not judge that as "bad".  Judgment of our experiences automatically colors and changes the experience itself to become not of that original thing but of the so called badness of that thing.

The next step is refraining.  Mindfulness is the ground; refraining is the path..It's the practice of not immediately filling up space just because there's a gap.

In my relationship with K. I've practiced a lot living in the gap and I've been appreciating it.  Learning to refrain has made me a better person although being a "better person" is not what this practice is about.   But regardless,  I'm more allowing, more mindful, more grounded.   But also, and this is something that I particularly struggle with,  being comfortable "in the gap", not repressing and not indulging, seems to slow down the dynamic movement in a relationship.  It does allow for a natural evolution but issues that arise in intimate relationships need to be "pushed" sometimes in order to not to become stagnant, or boring or...lost? 

I'm in a relationship with myself, first and foremost.  But I'm also in a relationship with K. and I don't want to repress or indulge our issues but I do want to communicate in a timely fashion.  Mind builds castles from lack of communication and those castles can trap us, and devour our relationships.  K.'s way of being in relationship has taught me to slow down and allow for the gap, to move into it and experience it fully.   But K.'s tendency is to allow strong emotions to pass so he doesn't have to fall into the gap with them and sometimes it feels like I over allow for that with him.  It's as if he backs away from the gap and represses so he never has to fall in.

So what does that have to do with ME, being in relationship with him?
 

Freedom Dance

Just back from celebrating with friends in the mountains.  Went to a lovely music festival and shared some love with some good people.

I'm experiencing a lot of freedom today.   And I love my freedom.  Certainly, I still have many chains that bind me to the illusion of pain and suffering but dang, my wings have taken flight, once again.  I am still sad and disappointed over what has transpired between K. and I, but we are processing through it and I'm a lot clearer than I was a few days ago. Plus I'm not taking things so personally in regards to what is up for him cause ya know, we all have our issues and he's working through his just like I'm working through mine.  Just like we all are.  I totally support his process even if I don't necessarily like or agree with the way he chose to present this to me.  But I know he did the best he could, that it wasn't an easy thing for him to do, and that he didn't want, doesn't want, to hurt me.  I know he loves me.  And I love him.  Love is good.

The bottom line is that I am so glad that this all transpired just the way it has and I know there are many more chapters of this story.  Also, I've been hovering of the brink of the abyss for awhile now and K., simply gave me the push I needed to take a great and fucking scary fall into myself.  And I thank him for that.  I think about the only other thing I'm going to say here right now is that K. is not having an issue with perceiving me being old, fat, and smelling bad.  Ha.  Praise the good lord for that!  Always sweet music for a girl's ears.  ;)  If that was his issue I'd just have to say fuck him and move on...well after I had another good long cry of course.

I think I will try to describe what's going on for us, for me, in regards to all of this, by sharing some quotes from When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron.  In regards to allowing myself to fully experience my emotions:

When things fall apart and we're on the verge of we know not what, the test of each of us is to stay on that brink and not concretize.  The spiritual journey is not about heaven and finally getting to a place that's really swell. 

Only to the extent that we expose ourselves over and over to annihilation can that which is indestructible be found in us. 

Nevertheless, when the bottom falls out and we can't find anything to grasp, it hurts a lot...Love of the truth puts you on the spot.  We might have some romantic view of what that means, but when we are nailed with the truth, we suffer.  We look in the bathroom mirror, and there we are with our pimples, our aging face, our lack of kindness, our aggression and timidity--all that stuff. 

How we stay in the middle between indulging and repressing is by acknowledging whatever arises without judgment, letting the thoughts simply dissolve, and then going back to the openness of this very moment.  That's what we're actually doing in meditation.  Up come all these thoughts, but rather than squelch them or obsess with them, we acknowledge them and let them go.   

After a while, that's how we relate with hope and fear in our daily lives.  Out of nowhere, we stop struggling and relax.  We stop talking to ourselves and come back to the freshness of the present moment.

So yea, anyway, continuing my practice of staying in the freshness of the present moment.  Acknowledging my hopes and fears in regard to K., and moving on in this beautiful dance of freedom.

Happy Freedom Day everyone!!!

Life is Strange

Take care of myself day.  Made pancakes for my grandbaby and then we walked to his swimming lessons.  Walking back home I decided that a good self pampering was in order, you know, treating myself the way we indulge our lovers to let them know how special they are to us.  And it's a given that we need to be good lovers to ourselves, first and foremost so...  I decided I needed a pedicure and manicure, a new blouse, and to make an appointment with my hair stylist. I stopped by her shop but disappointingly, her first available appointment was next Thursday.  "Oh darn, Rose."  I said, "You know I always do this last minute and I really want my hair done by my birthday which is this coming Wednesday."  She's seeing me today at 3:00! Then I got home and my lovely landlady asked me if I've been losing weight.  I told her "No!"  Then she said, she doesn't know what it is but I look so sexy and beautiful.  Life is so strange.

When Things Fall Apart

My husband texted and told me that he thought I should read When Things Fall Apart by Pema Chodron and my husband is a smart and intuitive man so after making myself a cup of coffee and checking on my straw bale garden (which isn't doing very well) I sat down and read the first chapter, Intimacy With Fear.  The tears are back.

I already knew that I'm a courageous woman.  Duh.  Pema says, "When I was first married, my husband said I was one of the bravest people he knew.  When I asked him why, he said because I was a complete coward but went ahead and did things anyhow."

My journey with K. has always been a spiritual journey.  Sexual too,yes.  But my sexuality and spiritually are so intertwined there is no separating the two.  So when he said he was no longer sexually attracted to me, I interpreted that and him saying that he is no longer attracted to being on this intimate spiritual journey with me.   Telling a lover that you are not sexually attracted to him is one thing.  Breaking up with them is another.  I'm very unclear about what it is he wants.

My heart calls, always urging me on to persevere through difficult situations such as this in my intimate relationships.

When things fall apart...I think I need to experience the crumbling.

So much more in this first chapter but I need to dry my tears and wake my grandson up and make him pancakes.  He has swimming lessons in an hour!

Love and Fear

Awake again too early after hours of tossing and turning.  Good solid sleep evades me.  My mind is restless.  My heart hurts but the numbness that saves has settled in.

 It's like the rug as been pulled out from underneath me.

Yesterday was a good day all things considered.  I worked my last day of the summer at the college and I'm so relieved to put that behind me for awhile.  I picked up my grandson after work for an overnight visit and took him to see Green Lantern in 3D.  It was tough for me to sit though but he really enjoyed it and I feigned pleasure afterwards as he went on and on about his favorite parts and asked me about mine.  A couple of the themes in the movie were will versus fear and running away from the things we love which gave me something to occupy my mind while the silliness ensued on the big screen before me.  I also pondered love and fear and how it's impossible to do both at the same time.  I've surely been vacillating back and forth between those too polarities a lot these last few days.  After the movie we enjoyed a nice dinner on the outside patio where my husband plays music every Thursday night and then stopped by for a visit with my son and two grandkids who are here for the summer from out-of-state.

I'm realizing how much I've been depending on my relationship with Lover Who Is Not My Lover Two (really not resonating with calling him this and think I should stop.)  He's been standing in the center of what has become an important part of my life,  and now he's no longer comfortable in that position.  This place I've found with him and his...has served mostly as an extension of my joy, but as I'm becoming more aware of now, has also been a refuge from the storm.

It's not like I don't have my husband to depend on.  He is my rock, my heart, my home.  My life depends on him.  But ya know, I'd found another comfortable place to rest my head and now the pillow has been pulled out from underneath.  I feel liked a toddler who is being weaned against her will, "I know this will be hard on you and I want you to know that Mama still loves you, but no more nice warm milk from the soft tit. Here's a hard cup to drink your cold milk from." My immediate reaction was wanting to rest my head on R.'s shoulder and have her hold and comfort me but she isn't around.

My mama's dying has been hard on me.  My mama isn't dead.  She is dying.  She is living in both worlds.  My eldest son is going through an especially rough time right now and his immense pain is breaking my heart.  Then my daughter's cancer.  My friend dying of prostate cancer.  And I really miss my Lulu who is in Guadalajara with her father for the summer.  I worry about her.  When K. hit me with this it's like my house of cards came tumbling down.  I'm a strong woman too.  I can shoulder a lot of burdon. I keep on keeping on.  But I feel on the verge of crumbling.

And I have a damn good, happy life...

Exhausted with Dispassion

I'm exhausted and want to sleep but here I am awake before the sunrise and have been for a couple of hours.  When I got up yesterday morning I looked a hundred years old with my puffy eyes and wrinkles.  Of course I had spent the whole day before crying.  No crying yesterday.  I felt mostly sad but actually had a pretty fine day.  All that writing helped me move a lot of emotions through my body.

It was strange, after writing about all that self loathing body image stuff I actually felt good being in my body yesterday.  Better than I have in a while.  Last night I was invited out for drinks and dinner with seven women friends that I rarely see.  One friend who has been living in Burma but is in the midst of moving to Ecuador was here visiting and another was here from Brazil.  I was sitting at this table with all these adventurous, creative, smart, sexy women and I realized I was there in my own adventurous, creative, smart, sexy self.  I was subdued no doubt, not quite on my game, but I was present and happy.  As crazy complicated as we women are, being in each others presence makes things so easy and obvious sometimes.  I was with my tribe.

I'm noticing that I feel quite dispassionate and it seems as if I've closed down my heart in order to not feel the all the mixed emotions.  Sadness.  Anger.  Confusion about things that just aren't sitting right that I don't have the energy to sort out.

A Nice Snuggle

Writing here these last couple of days has been so helpful in processing such intense emotions.  I've felt so relieved ever since writing that last post--really released a lot.  Plus my husband sent me a very touching email after he read it.  My pain upsets him and his words were very sweet and soothing.  I haven't cried all day since first reading rootsdown's comment to one of my previous posts early this morning.  Boy have I havee been triggered in a place that has some gnarly and tenacious roots shooting down into some dark woundedness.

My heart is very vulnerable and open at this moment.  My feelings are vacillating between love, fear, anger, sadness, annoyance, hurt...love.

I worked all day but had a nice break for lunch and took a long walk.  On my way home I stopped by Lover Who Is Not My Lover's office--not to be confused with Lover Who Is Not My Lover Two.  He was on a business call so I curled up on his couch and took a little nap.  When he got off the phone he came and took my boots off and curled up on the couch with me, intertwining his legs with mine.  We shared a soft and gentle space, catching up on one another's lives a bit.  I haven't seen him in awhile and wanted to connect, plus I needed a friend to snuggle with.  I didn't tell him about this drama I'm going through right now and really didn't want to talk about it at that point so I was relieved that he didn't ask about K. because he usually does.  

Feeling Smeagoly

The truth is that the sexy me as been feeling trapped and stifled inside all the fat I'm carrying on my body right now.  My clothes don't fit, and I've been feeling uncomfortable in my body.  Standing in front of a mirror has been miserable.  And once again I'm faced with the reality of how much I depend on the men in my life to help me feel validated and sexy.  Fortunately, I've had a lot of affectionate men over the years that have been willing to accommodate that need.  I get my fair share of compliments and expressed desire directed toward me that it keeps me afloat when my inner Golem attacks.  But I have a tendency to want it from one particular man (needing it from my husband is a given) and that currently would be LWINMLT.

I have a fond memory of a lover who always dated big women.  I paled in comparison to most of the women he was attracted to.  Talk about carrying lots of extra fat around on their bodies, they had it going on.  What I really loved about being in bed with him was the way he viewed and touched my body, especially my belly.  He would grab a hold of my tummy fat and I could sense the extreme pleasure and satisfaction it gave him.  This man was young, smart, talented, and handsome with a firm sexy body so that made it all the better.

Sex with my husband is like that.  He has always been loving and accepting of my body along with being verbally validating.  I was comfortable in my body with him from the get go because he made it so obvious how attracted he was to me.  Of course, I was quite thin and feeling very sexy in my body when we got together so his validations just added to my already positive body image.

Within my eight year relationship with the father of my youngest child, I never received any sort of  positive verbal validation or proclamations of love.  But I knew he was highly attracted to me sexually and he wanted a lot of sex.  He said that I was the only woman he had very been with that wanted as much sex as he did and he did proclaim his love for that!  Our sex life was great and it kept me in that relationship longer than I should have otherwise stayed.  Finally, when I was in the process of leaving him, he started offering verbal confirmations about how much he loved me and loved my body.  Too little too late.

As I write here now I'm reminded of how private and protective I felt about my relationship with LWINMLT when we first became lovers and it's really the reason I stopped posting on this blog. Of course I've written some about our relationship but not a lot.  There is more I could say along the lines of my body image and  having him as a lover but I find now that I'm still feeling private and protective of that intimate dynamic.  I realize there are things I should disclose to him personally.

Bottom line is of course, I'm so much more than my body.  So much more than my sexuality.  So much more than who is loving or not loving me.  I know this.  That said though, my love relationships, my sexual partners, and my body image, are all tied up in whatever it is I'm doing here in this life.  I feel most comfortable in a thin body.  I feel more at home, attractive, creative, in touch with my true essence, when I'm not carrying around extra weight.  And I feel so much freer.  And of course, even if I am carrying around extra weight, when I'm feeling good about myself and my life, when I'm managing my stress level, staying balanced and in the flow, and connected and happy in my relationships with those I love most, then I'm more able to stay in touch with these feel good parts of myself, regardless.  And I'm not even hitting on the other aspects of getting older that have nothing to do with being fat or thin.  Getting old is not for sissies, I've been struggling here and it's like LWINMLT pushed me over into the abyss.

I know that a big piece of what's going on for me right now is my age old abandonment issue with my father who left before I was born. I identified with being broken and worthless for a good portion of my life, all based on the fact that I wasn't worth it for him to hang around.  I have healed so much of this woundedness on my own over the years, and also within my relationship with my husband.  But I find that I'm still bringing men into my life to help me dig up more of the pain, to be worked through on an ever deepening level.  I feel very abandoned by LWINMLT.  Not totally abandoned.  He is still in my life.  But the way he chose to deal with this issue of falling out of sexual attraction with me really hurts.  I am just so sad.  A let's put sex on the back burner until we figure this out approach, would have felt a lot more reasonable to me.  You know, a temporary sexual hiatus while we assess what's going on and see how things evolve.  I still would  have cried and felt like shit but it would have been a much better route for me. I want to talk more about his insights (or lack of) as to why he isn't sexually attracted to me, if there is a why to get to the bottom of.  I'm left wondering how deeply this goes.   Is he repulsed by the sight of me?  Does touching me disgust him?  I don't really think this is the case but that's where my pain body takes me.  I do want to know just exactly how long has this been going on.  I've worked with lots of couples and I know there are a variety of reasons why this happens in a relationship.  Sometimes it's lasting but more often it's not.  I had my, I'm fat and therefore not sexually attractive button pushed but that may not be his reason.  Maybe it's my wrinkles, my stretch marks, my age, my smell...all of the above, none of the above.  I didn't ask him because I was so overcome with emotion that I couldn't bear to hear more details that might push me over the edge at that point.  We were in a public place.  I wanted his story, his truth of the moment, but dealing with something like this takes more than one setting, public or private.  Maybe he doesn't know the reason, as it is often hidden from the conscious mind.  There are many components to sexual attraction and sometimes it's just not there with another and there is no need to bother with the reason.  I'm sexually attracted to very few people.  But the fact that he was attracted to me and now isn't, speaks to something that has come up within our relationship.  And relationships change.  There are no real binding contracts, even in a marriage.  People get divorced all the time.  And we aren't married.  But we are going on 3 years together and I want more than this.  I want better than what I was offered.  I think I deserve better

I feel like I've been thrown out with the trash.  Or maybe it's more like I've been set out on the curb for a thrift store pick up.  "Surely someone else will be able to use her.  She's not all that bad."  I know that's not really fair.  Or real.  But it's the way I feel right now.

Disappointed

Five hours of sleep after being up for 39.  I've been lying awake for a couple of hours watching my ego make up stories.  I am so triggered.  Why did you ask me if I feel old? I'm pretty flipped out about being old right now.  I'd like to crawl out of my skin.  I haven't cried in 6 hours.  Hopefully my eyes will be a bit less puffy today.  I need to be to work at 7:00.  I don't know what I'm feeling right now.  Sideswiped.  Depressed.  Confused.  Dumb.  Mostly numb.  But Aphrodite is waking up.  I notice her in the background with her "Fuck you, how dare you!" attitude.  She is prideful.  And pissed.   Mostly I'm just tired and my heart hurts.  I'd like to go to sleep and either not wake up at all or wake up having this all be an awful dream.  I'm so disappointed.

The Consequences of Falling

The rain is falling as if the sky is shedding tears in sweet companionship.  I'd call a girlfriend except I know I couldn't talk.  I can cry though.  It seems as if that's all I can do.  I can't sleep.  I laid awake all night, the tears flowing silently until the uncontrollable sobbing would erupt.

A couple of weeks ago I found a lump in my breast and it was quite sore so I made an appointment for a Well Women Health Exam.  I wasn't too worried about it but having it checked out seemed the prudent thing to do.  I've been feeling extra vulnerable in my body lately.  Fucking menopause.   My daughter had a cancer tumor in her leg.  A friend died of prostate cancer.  The appointment was early this morning.  After crying all night with no sleep, I walked into the clinic like a zombie, where they hit me with a slew of paperwork that needed updating. As soon as I sat down to work on the stack of papers they called me back to the exam room with a quick stop at the scales for a weight in.  As if that wasn't enough to make me feel like shit, I was told to strip naked and given two small pieces of rough paper to protect my modesty.   I couldn't even figure how to unfold the damn paper covers  and that got me crying again before my health care practitioner made it back into the room.  Bereft of any ability to cope with her professional incompetencies,  within a few minutes I had her running out the door for backup protection from the crazy lady. When she returned, I was fully dressed except for my bra.  In the end I pulled off my top and allowed her to do a breast exam (I already had enough negative body issues going on that I was bound and determined to forego cutting off my nose to spite my face.) But I declined her offers for other medical interventions including their mental health services.  Fucking bitch.

Lover Who Is My Lover is no longer my lover so I'm confused as to how to refer to him here.  I already have one Lover Who Is Not My Lover.  Maybe I should call him Lover Who Is Not My Lover Too, or Lover Who Is Not My Lover Two.  I am not a Well Woman, that's for sure.  My heart is broken.  Not really looking forward to dealing with this lost.  Fuck.  For the last few days I've been listening to k.d. lang's song, The Consequences of Falling, obviously preparing myself for this, and every line speaks to my experience and what I have been dreading.  "...if I'm alone with this, I don't think I can face the consequences of falling.  As it turns out, I am definitely alone in this,  LWINMLT, is not in love with me.  Well, to be more exact, he is no longer sexually attracted to me.  Wow, typing that sentence sent a pang through my heart.  I've been dealing with the not in love part pretty well up until this point.  You know, just letting what is be what it is, accepting the sweet love that is there and not making up too many stories about the rest.  But I really don't think I can face his new disclosure.

are you breathing
what i'm breathing
are your wishes
the same as mine
are you needing
what i'm needing
i'm waiting for a sign
my hands tremble
my heart aches
is it you calling
if i'm alone in this
i don't think i can face
the consequences of falling
are you thinking
what i'm thinking
does your pulse
quicken like mine
are you dreaming
what i'm dreaming
i can't read your mind
one step towards you
two steps back
feels like i'm crawling
if i'm alone in this
i don't think i can face
the consequences of fallin

Well, those questions are answered.  He is not breathing what I'm breathing.  He is not needing what I'm needing.  His pulse does not quicken like mine.  Fuck.  I got my sign.  I don't have to try and read his mind.  I'm alone in this and I don't think I can face the consequences of falling in love with this man.

In case you've never had the man you love tell you that he isn't sexually attracted to you, I can share with you first hand that it feels really shitty. Damn, talk about a body slam.  As if I haven't been slamming my own body enough as it is.  I'll be 57 years old in one week and I gotta tell you, I've been in a wretched place with my body image and this whole menopausal pack on the fat phase.  Slam dunk K.  You know where to hit a girl where it hurts.

Not that I blame him.  I mean, what was the poor man to do?  If he's not sexually attracted to me anymore, what else is there for him to do but tell me?  He obviously didn't relish disclosing this little (huge) piece of information to me and it was a truth I was not happy to hear.  But the truth is, I'm not sexually attracted to my own self right now.  I'm quite aware that I'd be more physically attractive if I were holding less fat on my body.  But you want love to see beyond that.  I'm fairly full of self loathing.  And now to add to that, my feelings are hurt.  My ego is bruised and busted.

I told him I never trusted "us".  I guess I've always held some trepidation.  I definitely hold some post traumatic stress from when he contemplated breaking it off with me two years ago.  How could I fully trust my relationship with a man who never told me that he was in love with me? At the same time, our friendship was deep and I had grown to trust his love for me and I was holding big appreciation for his presence in my life.   I hold confusion about the difference between "loving" and being "in love" with someone anyway so I just accepted his love for what it was, without needing to put a label on it.   He is kind.  He is truthful.  He is a good man.  A sweet lover.  I had let go of many of my attachments about how I needed to be in relationship with him and I was simply allowing myself to be happy and content.  Comfortable.  Mostly.  But I suppose that I was secretly hoping that he had fallen in love with me and would come around, sooner or later to figuring that out.  I feel like a fool.  When he told me that he wanted to have a "candid" talk, I knew, in one way or another, what was coming.  Although after my immediate tachycardia I told myself not to jump to conclusions.  I imagined a number of different possible topics.  Maybe he even wanted to tell me that he was in love with me, that he was "dreaming what I'm dreaming".  I didn't imagine hearing his words telling me that he was no longer sexually attracted to me.  I've never had a man tell me that before.  It stings.

It's weird, as k.d. says, "one step towards you, two steps back, feels like I'm crawling".  K was a wonderful lover to me in many ways and I'm feeling pretty fucking devastated to lose this aspect of our relationship.  To face this reality, that he isn't physically attracted to me, doesn't want to make love with me,  doesn't want to fuck me.  WTF am I suppose to do with this information?  It makes me angry too.  My sexuality is a huge piece of my identity.  Who and what I am.  Jesus fucking Christ.  Talk about the ultimate rejection.  God fucking damnit.  And the truth is that I constantly held myself back from him sexually too.  It was obvious that he didn't desire me as much as I desired him and I chalked it up to a difference in our libidos, and the fact that he holds his sexuality differently than I hold mine which is always in the forefront.  His is more compartmentalized.   I was always hungry for him but I learned to control my cravings, waiting for him to make the first move, always stepping back, never wanting to pressure him.  I consistently felt like I was crawling in our relationship.  And the crawling wasn't bad.  I wasn't complaining.  And I'm not complaining now, about how it was.  I accepted him for who he was, how he was.  Instead of wanting more, I practiced wanting what he gave me and I was pretty much satisfied with that.  But I don't know how to begin being satisfied with this.  I am complaining about this.

And I never got to get my tramp stamp tattoo and surprise him with it when he took me from behind and fucked me.  He told me that's how he wanted to discover it.  I waited too long.

I've always said that we fall in love with who we fall in love with, and then we create a relationship from there.  Our lovers are real people, acting out their own karma, living their lives and trying to get their needs met to the best of their abilities, just like we are.  When we love another, we have the choice of either loving the real person or loving a fantasy, a made up story that we create in our mind about who and what that person is and how they will meet our needs and make us happy.   But real people don't always come through for us the way our fantasies do.  They improv in the roles and scripts we make up for them.  I'm so let down.  I invested so much of heart and body to this man and he never fully claimed me in my totality.  I knew that.  And I knew not to trust that he wouldn't do what he just did.  Why am I so insistent on falling in love with unavailable men?

I'm alone in this and I don't think I can face the consequences of falling...

Fuck.