A moment and then another

I'm on my own and I have all the sweet nothings in the world.

Would you go down on yourself?

Yes

In a heartbeat

I am her and she is me anyway

All beautiful 

Do you make love to Her?

Everyday, if the breeze blows through me

Agape

Found this, a reminder of what's happening...

Healing work is grief work.

Shadow work is grief work.

Grieving is the healing.

Without grieving, we obstruct the flow of the divine intelligence of life that wants to move through us and pull us into deeper alignment with our greatest aliveness.

It's no small thing.

We are taught to be afraid of our grief because it is wild and untamable.

It reminds us we are in a co-creative relationship with something greater than us, something we cannot control; a higher power that isn't so petty as to judge us for our human foibles.

In cultures where the wildness is conditioned out of living, where death is feared into an industry, this very necessary and innate aspect of our humanity keeps us from experiencing all that we really long for.

Where there is joy, there is grief.

One of the reasons joy feels so vulnerable, or even opening to love again, is that awareness of the grief that lives inside of it. Inside of our vulnerability, inside our love and attachments, inside the shame (fear and grief) that arises to remind us of the ephemeral nature of all things.

When we embrace the process of grief, we can more fully and fearlessly embrace our joy too.

We also become more skilled at letting go of the things that we need to let go of, that pull us away from love.

We no longer have to wait until we are free of shadow or pain or loss or mourning to get on with our flourishing.

Our joy and flourishing is not a disloyalty to our grief and loss, but an honoring of if, of what was and how we loved.

And, it all has it's own wise timing that cannot be rushed.

In the myth of the Phoenix, a potent symbol of rebirth, there comes a time in their life where they know it is time to complete a cycle. The phoenix then builds a nest (a funeral pyre) and with a clap of its wings, goes into flames and, perhaps like caterpillar soup, is remade in the alchemy of the fire.

As it rises out the ashes, the ashes left represent salt, or that which cannot be burned, the life force of life itself.

Eros.

The phoenix uses myrrh to create an egg out of the remains. And, then, takes this egg and leaves it on the alter of the Sun God as an offering and a prayer for creative regeneration, for more life and in gratitude for what was.

In this myth, there is a recognition of death, of a time to complete a cycle. To give something up.

Usually, we experience through loss, the death of a loved one or another initiation of loss.

But we are often also asked to give up our patterns, attachments, beliefs, worldview identities, cultural paradigms, hopes for the future, dreams, longings for what will never be, or even the expertise we cling on to when life wants us to expand into more possibility.

Recognizing this space, the phoenix knows it must sacrfice what is precious in order to generate more life.

It offers the bones, the salt, the life force of life itself, that which cannot ever be destroyed, to the altar of the divine to create more wholeness.

This is our own personal spiral of grief, where we enter the spiral through loss and change, recovery or healing crisis, where we must let go.

Into that fire, we offer what needs to be recycled in order to be reborn into something new. We make a sacred offering of what feels so precious to us in order to receive our wholeness in return.

We learn what our relationship really is with the unknown, what needs to be healed there.

We meet the ache that never goes away, the pain of grief and longing and joy where our wound and Eros, God, dances in our continual becoming.

The more we embrace that this is a natural cycle of humanning, the less we have to "work" on ourselves like projects on a "to do" list, because we come to trust the natural cycles of our soul's evolution.

In intimacy with the ache, we understand what is needed, what our particular Chironic medicine is cooking up within us, what to leave at the altar of the divine, how to spread flower petals with tears of our prayers and come back into resonance with what can never, ever be destroyed that is always living inside of us.

Love.

~Dr. Mia Hetényi

Soft skin, soft mind and soft heart

Pliable

With open legs and raw nerves

Ablaze

All of her burning

And so soft

Like a woman

Like red milk

I forgot what I am going to say

It happens all the time

I find it hard to hold anything for any length of time

I'm a proud airhead

Just getting used to all this floating around 

And the expectations of others

Say no

Say yes

Just go limp

It's getting so familiar now

I'm not sure what that looks and feels like

The darkness in me has risen

In harmony with light

In 'The Dark Knight', Alfred said, "Some men just want to watch the world burn."

Mac Miller said, "Why I gotta build something beautiful just to go set it on fire?"

Truth is, my secret is, I enjoy building beautiful things and setting them on fire. 

It's chemistry - growth, decay and transformation.

Only death brings life. Burn it when it's dead.

A promise

Is a lie

Only with expectation

A lie to self

I think I'll leave it alone

Just stay for a bit

And rest

The bliss of struggle comes with my unravelling after being bound so tight. There's a point of, "fuck it, give it to me, do whatever". The release. 

Today is that day for me and I will savour the beautiful taste of nothingness. My attention is with sensation and the moment. Unravelled and a taste of freedom.

Doolittle, a favourite album and is speaking my feelings.

I feel the surrender and the excitement of knowing nothing.