Floating through the waves of thought

Sometimes I feel like a painting. 

I sit in the yard staring out at the world and the sun is against my face. Casting everything in front of me in a marvelous silhouette. The sky is pale blue with streaks of gold and tangerine between the clouds. The trees still bare from the winter shedding stand out starkly with their black pillars. There's a lonely pine tree standing like the last majestic beast of a species, proudly bearing it's still full and luscious branches. The birds sitting calmly in the limbs singing into the wind. 

Silent houses sit like gargoyles inside this town. Possessing worlds within the walls no one else will see. The painting holds every one of these worlds in a window that is frozen on one point in time. I feel like the odd observer painted in off to the side. This time I'm on the porch steps. Quietly looking out into the image someone else is looking in on. 

It's peaceful in moments where this happens. I know true peace and they seem immortal. I am thankful for the spring, for the new life budding around me. For the warm breeze that surprises me as I stare at the greatest masterpiece of them all, the world. These things confirm truths again and again about death and rebirth. I turn to nature for the reassurance I'm seeking. 

Nature doesn't disappoint me here. Everyday something changes now. A new sprout of sage in the flower bed. More lilies beginning to grow, and there is color in the grass again. It is all new growth. Something taking new life and form for the first time, but from the decay of what lived before. Times ebb and flow in observance through physical matter. 

The mornings now are just for me.

\With an innocent approach, I have been trying to adjust to my reality. I have been honest with myself, my feelings, and I have, with difficulty at times, not shied away from feeling them. The mornings have been the easiest, but not completely easy to adjust to. I think that has to do with the fact that they mainly mine anyway. 

The mantra, the meditation, the time to review tasks, and eat, these have all taken on subtle shifts. The mantra.... that has changed, because it had to. There were pieces of it that aren't true anymore. This is when it hit me. I am holding my own leash, which turns my mantra into an affirmation not for myself and my Master, but just for me. Molding me into whoever I want to be next. The mornings are for me.

Change is creeping in through my walls, like the early-morning drafts. Little by little, I am starting to feel my mind shift, let go of the tension of resistance, and move through acceptance into action. I have never been able to stay down for long, even if part of me wants to. I am already starting to feel the grip of loss loosening. Still waking up numb some days, and in the night, I think... it will take quite some time before you really fade, but I'm aware of that. I know it will be a while but I can't stay here. 

The pathways I need to rewire won't do that themselves, and it's small shifts like this that slowly but surely sweep what's left of you into a box in my mind. While the box will stay forever, I don't need the stuff sitting out anymore in a way. And the world turns, and it sucks, and it will, but I am choosing to keep walking, one foot in front of the other, into what's next. Because I have zero clue what that is. 

Which... terrifies me, a little. I like knowing what I'm up against, but that's impossible in this circumstance. I must truly gamble with fate and just trust that the next adventure teaches me more new things and that the lessons are of value, intimate change, and the integration of a truer self. Gently, I walk into the unknown, with a little spark of excitement, but first, a new foundation. 

The mantra is the first step. There is more to reclaim, change, adjust, and integrate, but I suppose it matters more that I am changing things, shaking up routines, and creating a new circuit for/through me, myself, and I. 

I caught a glimmer of myself this morning as I sat down to eat my breakfast. The raspberries turned my Greek yogurt pink today, and the oatmeal mixed in made the whole bowl seem like I scrambled a brain for breakfast.

I giggled as I looked at it, watching a zombie on the stage in my mind chasing after somebody screaming "BRAAIINNSS!". I could feel myself coming back. 

It's little moments like that. I am noticing them more as the days pass, moments when I can joke, find dark humor, and see something completely unhinged as brain matter out of my yogurt parfait with berries. I am dark, but I carry it like it's light, and laughter is the fuel I chase most days. My fascinations, obsessions, and interests often set others on the edges of their seats, so I learned early to make light of it, for them, for myself, for the ability to connect across divides and still converse with those who are vastly different. I turn the macabre, the creepy, the darkness in the mundane that most are too afraid to examine into humor, even if awkward, that can reach out and build bridges. 

So I laugh at myself this morning, because I sit here eating my yogurt like I'm the zombie in my mind, happy with its brains. 

~the journey back to life 

a daemon of the earth

I wish this were my fault. 

I wish I were the one who did something wrong. I wish there were a lesson in the mistake of action to learn here, because then, this would be easier to understand. I could review each wrong step or motion, replay it until I understood the error, and then correct it. It doesn't matter how many times I play this movie because there isn't anything to look at, I watch myself keeping up with things, I see myself realizing the phone got a little quieter for longer periods, I see myself trying to remain calm, rationalizing, listing off reasons that I knew were valid but didn't take away the sting, and I see myself taking back what I handed over gladly with a grudging resignation. I see my proud shoulders droop in an emotional rain in my head.

Has anyone else ever felt that way? When you aren't the person in the dynamic that grew out of it, or got bored, or found someone or something that spoke to them more, or when it just didn't click anymore for the other person. Do you wish it were the other way around, because then the blame would be easier to place on your shoulders? I am finding it incredibly difficult to accept that I blame someone for failing me, whom I looked up to like a god in my universe. How do I even reach those shoulders to distribute the weight? Because you didn't even fight. You didn't try. You stared at me in silence, with nothing else to say. You couldn't even try to at least soothe me, fuck!

I would have taken the breadcrumbs and been happy, even leaving them still. You left me with no real explanation, no true apology, no ownership of your actions. As if that would have kept me hanging on, if only for those things, waiting to see if you would give them to me eventually. Not even that, which is better than if you had, but it hurts a lot more.  So now, in my head, I have to kill the god and see the man.

This is a lovely fucked up mess I've found myself in.... Grateful, and bitter, and angry, and sad, and confused, and disappointed, and it's all wrapped up inside this skin that crawls as the mind runs. What's worse is that it's not the memories, but the future that will never live now, playing in my mind in the dark, at 2 am when I can't sleep. When I wake and it all comes back in to my small slice of paradise in the world.

I wonder, do martyrs ever feel conflicted in their choice? Is there a moment when they realize they can never go back, that their god is watching them do this in his name, and that all they have for confirmation is faith?

An excerpt from my latest article on the other love of my life. 

-From the article I am working on currently, about enacting change through daily affirmation work and ritualizing daily routine.

~sharing more than just one side of me~ enjoy<3

Minimize negative self-talk; it steals your power

Negative self-talk only serves to continue keeping you mentally stuck in old patterns. Regardless of the reason you adopted the negative self-talk, if it was through relationships formed as a child, in adulthood, romance partners that weren’t healthy for you, or personal struggles that seem impossible to overcome. It doesn’t really matter where they come from. What matters is that you actively work to reframe them into positive statements that focus on the benefits gained from mistakes, wrong choices, or difficult experiences. By redirecting the negative into the positive, you reaffirm the power you possess. Each time that personal power is raised up and examined, held in the forefront of your mind, there is energy going into that thought. The pathways are changing and becoming more stable in a new reality. This is an active manifestation on a minute but daily scale. This is how change happens, and it's where it starts. This is the momentum that continues to build. 

Observe and analyze judgment over situations. Are your words of condemnation truly deserved?

We are only human and will inevitably make mistakes. This is just part of living and growing, and learning how to become better versions of ourselves. The inner process of alchemy of the soul and mind. Yet, how do we analyze our mistakes? Is it with an open mind that is curious for new solutions and revelations, or is it with ire and irritation for erring in the first place? So often, we are harder on ourselves than we truly deserve, which reinforces the shame we feel at a mental level. So next time you catch yourself analyzing a mistake or error, consider how you are approaching that observation. Correct your mindset if you aren't approaching things with curiosity or innocence

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Practice saying positive action statements while in a meditative state, and record what you notice. You may be surprised by what you write down in the notes. Sometimes we can feel subtle shifts and alignments in energy when saying positive action statements. The nuance of frequency flows in a slightly different direction, and it can be picked up at times when we are in that meditative state and taking the steps to enact real-time change. 

Being a submissive and a control freak is a trip. 

The experiences I have had in my life have left me with tendencies that exist in delicate balance with one another. I need to know what is taking place, hour to hour, every day. I am also okay with allowing someone else to set the routine. This is my way of transmuting the side of me that is in a desperate free fall to grab onto, restrain, and manually dictate every second of life. With one act instead of many. Which takes trust, yes, but it's easier to learn to trust one person than it is to trust the world.

To be clear, when I say world, I mean the world of humanity. 

I have known evil men and evil women. I've looked at the essence of it, living in the depths of brown eyes that once whispered loving words under warm covers. The sour taste of knowing you've been tricked, of love running out because it was never endless, has sat in my mouth, more than once. When the patience and the rush of the "shiny and new" finally wear off, and the real person finally comes to sit at the table....... I've lived with monsters. The worst part is that when you grow up, as a little girl, you're taught what monsters are supposed to look like. But the reality is the monsters are always the prettiest ones in the room. They looked nothing like they were supposed to. 

So now, when I am approached, there is always the question, "Are you a wolf in sheep's clothing, or are you just a wolf?"

Because I no longer believe that people are harmless. No one is truly harmless, because we all have the capacity to do great harm, and all it takes is pushing the right buttons. It doesn't even have to be intentional; the button push is more often, you land on it by accident. This is, at least, my experience with those kinds of buttons. I always managed to find them when I was trying so hard to steer clear. At that point, though, by then, it's too late. The trip wire gets tripped, and holy shit, hold on for the ride, because it's fucking brutal. 

So this takes courage for me. To live this lifestyle, to be this person, and carry this title. I do this because there is structure, clarity, expectation, action, and reaction. All things I need in order to feel secure in my life at this point, because these things can be organized, trusted, and relied on. These things can function like a well-oiled machine. I expect the Master that owns me to be able to map out tasks, routines, and expectations in ways that are acceptable, easy to understand, and unique to the dynamic between us, because at the end of the day, I NEED to know there is control over the structure in life, that I can trust that control to always fucntion the same way, to never falter, and to be a solid thread in my mind, life, and purpose. Because I need to know what is taking place every minute of every day, I also realize that I am fragmented enough to be unable to perform at this level alone. 

I kneel and hand power over, because in doing so, I have all that I need. My world is chiseled down into fine, organized points of expectations, routines, rules, and obligations. I give my body, my trust, and my devotion in order to feel secure and to belong where I otherwise feel there is no true place for me.

Because I can't trust the vanilla lifestyle to keep me safe, I seek safety in the neatly outlined limitations of a contract. I still love, and fall hard, and give all that I am. My heart is not what I try to protect; it is part of what I give away. My sense of solid ground, that is what I hold closely and tightly to myself; this is the hardest piece to give away because I have clawed my way on fragile pieces in order to have it back once more.

To be seen, to be taken in, accepted, to be owned, and valued as I am, for what I will give, for what I can do... this is the reason, the urge, the need. 

Grateful for good friends.

This weekend was a much-needed outlet and reminded me of the real love in my life. The good friends that make it flow effortlessly like consciousness in the mind. The laughter as the joints were passed round. The card games that erupted in shock or mock frustration because we hadn't played speed since we were 12. Just the effort it took to remember how to lay out the game brought comic relief as we joked about our ages and time gone by. 

Good music, good food, good vibes, fire smoke, and the wholesome activity of just enjoying being alive. I could feel myself returning to a state of living I hadn't felt in a while. The active hum of energy within, connecting you to the universe, the people, and the moment. I felt the strings of fate coalesce into one of those moments that live on forever. This weekend was medicine for a weary soul. A reminder that deep breaths and laughter can overcome most upheavals. Nothing needs to be that serious all the time. 

Dancing to slightly stoopid and pepper in the background, while we rolled up another, and getting dizzy from spinning each other round and round. 90's baby hippies ballroom dancing in our tie-dye in the kitchen. In so many ways, this is my idea of heaven when my soul is heaviest. The easiest joy is also the most profound in its impact. Because again, it takes next to nothing to make it happen. The effort for the weekend didn't go beyond what was at hand, and that's what made it so special. It was magic made with nothing but a little action and the presence of good company. The rest makes itself happen. 

And for a little while, you didn't exist anymore, at all, or ever. The place in time and space where I existed was a place you had never inhabited. A moment you could never be a part of, I was truly separate from you. Yet, I was happy, I was not alone, I was not waiting, and I was not idle. I had wings I forgot I could grow, and with them I chose to soar. 

Was it real for you?

The last fleeting plea for a solution to bring this back from the abyss it has sunk into hurt. I think this conversation hurt more than their absence did previously. A last attempt to pull something out of the gap to connect us back to one another, or at least provide a real explanation. 

Futile. I should have known better. I should have known it would be pointless. I should have let my voicemail greet you instead. 

Instead, I poured my heart out. Again, breaking once more into the thousands of pieces I've been gluing back together. At this rate, I will never become Kintsugi. 

This experience has been a beautiful view into what is possible. So thank you for that. First and foremost, there is gratitude within me for what did take place in the space we held for each other. 

It also turned extremely sour when you stopped holding that space for us to exist inside of. We have always been apart. It's never been easy, and I have always endured because you made time, it worked, and needs were met. Somewhere over the last two years, that changed. It happened silently, slowly, and without much noise at all. It was invisible, and I look back, and I can see where the cracks started to creep in.

Hindsight is only good for lessons to live by in the future sadly. 

Because as I sat there, pouring myself out, one last time all, all that met me in return was silence. Long uncomfortable pauses without solutions or suggestions or even ownership. How sharp silence can be, that it sliced me even from halfway across the country. Did you know this was dying before I did? 

Was this a selfish attempt at denial of self-evident truth? 

Did you dangle me, on that leash past the point of virility because you couldn't walk away? 

That is what was always going to happen though... and I knew that. Somewhere in my mind, I knew there was no amount of conversation, no time length that would be beneficial, no room to brainstorm that would be fruitful, I knew this was dead too. I've been trying to accept it, I was making some progress.... 

I will not answer any more phone calls

These days are ticking by slowly; each one feels like it's the same, never-ending. I am fighting the urge to burn it all to the ground. Between the sadness that leaves me breathless and on the floor and the rage that threatens the safety of every breakable antique I own, I can't stand the skin I'm in. The sun was out yesterday, and I ran from it like a demon on the wind. 

I know this is healing, and it's all part of it, but it really makes me hate you, even if just for a moment. Everything that would be beautiful and long-awaited is currently ash. Bile in the mouth, the world is laughing at me because I am too caught up to enjoy its reawakening, and once more I've lost my center and my connection. 

You know, I saw a double rainbow last week? You were too busy to hear about it, and did you know that was the straw that broke the camel's back?

It filled me with so much joy, I stopped the car in the road, I got out, I took several photos, and then I realized, even if I sent a message, even if I shared the photo, you wouldn't see it. Not right then, not even 20 minutes later. By the time you saw what I said, the moment would be a distant memory, my joy a shadow of itself in the retelling. I couldn't share a beautiful, rare moment with you, even in the telling.

I have that photo on the wall by the bed now. 

The double rainbow brought clarity and confirmation.

The double rainbow bridge into the unknown.

This is strange.

Waking up and not sending a text that says "good morning." Waking up and taking no photo, because there's no one waiting for it on the other end. 

Today I woke up, and I went back to bed for another thirty minutes. I woke up and remembered, and for a second, everything felt dark. It's such a strange feeling to be here. Day one, on the other side of the event horizon. Feeling like things are in their right places. That feeling of something missing, or forgotten, but no idea what. This feels strange. 

Not that I assumed it would feel normal today. Today will be a very long day indeed, I can feel that I am off routine. I've done all the steps, but they don't feel the same. It's strange how a simple decision flips that switch in the mind. Is this how it feels to every sub? That instant absence, mentally or physically, or both?

My mind sounds like the ocean. My head is louder than it's been in a long time. The roar of so many thoughts and emotions, overpowering logic at times, and rendering me immobile. I haven't turned the music off in 24 hours, and it's still going. The melodies carry me through the hours, and the EDM keeps my system so busy it can't take proper stock. Staying in the sympathetic nervous system and avoiding the activation of the parasympathetic. 

Healing is hard. I know I have healed because I am sitting with the pain like a companion in need of a shoulder to cry on. I am counseling my pain instead of burying it. While this is not an out-of-body experience, in many ways it feels similar. I feel like I am watching myself go through these motions. Being healthy means doing the hard thing, even when it isn't wanted. 

When the pain gets too much, I turn the reggae up and just sway