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A Quote:
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Jewels is now shining in Glastonbury, England, where the time now is:
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United Kingdom, Joshua Tree, Pipe's Canyon, English, , Female, 36-40, writing/ research, systems theories/ futurism.
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| Sunday, June 8, 2003 |  |
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 ~ After being 'off line' and in transit on my journey back into ONE such physical gateway into MY Avalon~
From where I sit today, a month landing back into Avalon... a day 'off' from my work, daughter, family and life... I wrote this, this AM, whilst a 'angel and nature spirit' day is across the streets at the Well... this is the Point of Angel where I sit right Now...
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The Initiations continue. Honing. Work. Intention. Love. The Mind of the Individual Mythical Journey. Integration of years in this body ~ inter-dimensional journeys ReMembered and then offered back up into the eternal Cauldron of death and renewal...
And the Thesis of this life beckons me forth. The Service to That which is Mine. Each piece of the fragments of scattered human lights/ souls - the collective puzzle - each piece, each peace, We Be. Can be honored. Healed. Loved. What we each came to express. Release. Share. Own. Honour. And Honor Honor Honor! By not honoring my own piece, I am not taking care of the fragile and the strong. The vulnerable and the truly Brave.
New commitments of Truth. Honesty. New ideas of a soul awakening.
What WOULD the 'world' look like if the Faerie Queen was NOT banished? This IS the transpersonal thesis of my life: just look at the political world stage and all small ponds of human politics. The fascists in all the communities, the new age games, and the lies we continue to hold on to... when we know we are hurting ourselves, our souls and each other. The world of Maya and human conformity. She continues to be the scapegoat. Projections of fear and control. This is the slavery of the old paradigm and patriarchy not yet-- at -- all healed in our minds, hearts or world connections...
[ Poems & Musings | 2003-06-08 04:54 | | PermaLink ] More >
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| Sunday, April 20, 2003 | |
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 I am wondering about the inner patriarchal ideas each of us carry from culture and family. And mine. I know someone’s whose inner critic views her life and all others as either a failure or success. Those who ‘can do it’ and those who simply, can’t won’t or … fate is against, consciousness, luck or whatever. But to me, I always knew it wasn’t about wining or loosing. Rather it’s about the journey and experience, knowledge and wisdom, the Great Mystery and the remembering of something Bigger…
But I just think I figured out what mine is, my ‘inner polarity’. I don’t know if that is a psychologically correct term. The inner Split as I have often referred to ‘it’ as… the one that skews the world into a false sense of division. It is generally linked back to the type of western dysfunctional family, tribe or community one participated in. The Split that keeps the shared hallucination of false models or institutional thought in place. There is a natural Flow… that we Know, feel, dream and hope to return to… the Life we are actually always participating in which is organic, authentic and whole in it’s own non-duality. And then the outer false ideas of heaven and hell that the shared human nightmare makes up. The night mare that gallops through Forget-me-land… full of division and conquering separation. (And yet the ability to self-reflect. Could we do that without the scism?… )
So I figure MY personal polarity is about being ‘right’ or ‘wrong’. That I think I am going to be proved ‘wrong’ and therefore am sort of always trying to cover up that I am NOT ‘wrong’. But inevitably someone will find out I AM ‘wrong’…. I don’t want it to be about that… and I want to think it isn’t I have to prove myself ‘right’… but the emotionality is that I am afraid of being found out to be ‘wrong’. I always think I need to have a case for my NOT being wrong… but the fact that I can’t really figure out the logic in a box of rational thought… makes me terribly confused. Because I have a sense of knowing in the kaleidoscope of information and senses I get from the many worlds I walk in, and because I put things together in a sort of multi-dimensional process… I feel I need to be more specific, grounded, and linear in order to ‘prove’ something that I naturally experience in a sort of a spiral awakening, coming into a knowing from many different directions and points. And I have allowed myself to feel wrong about that, that that is NOT the way one is ‘suppose’ to ‘do it’… whatever ‘do it’ means. As in yesterday’s featured article, ‘By WHOSE Standards?’ --- yes, indeed, by WHOSE standards, am I comparing myself? I think that if only I can think like them, talk like them, ‘Be’ as grounded with that same ‘iron in my soul’ on the earth plane as all the other ‘right’ ones in the box, then inevitably I can figure out their game, and show them I am not ‘wrong’ for being, actually, from another game entirely. And isn’t this the loneliest experience, then? This inner polarity? That we each walk around carrying an idea of how we will be judged… and therefore, the thought of it --- in ITSELF --- is what keeps us divided?
In a whole world, in a connected universe, can anything in the path of discovery --- EVEN when we are in ‘reaction’, experience, or a limited view --- can any of it really be ‘right’ or ‘wrong’…? And isn’t this duality just as preposterous as the one that figures life is only about the winners and losers?
The madness continues to set in. Deeper in and further in… I feel more divided, more awake, more alone, and more and more closer to the great inner abyss. El Mystere’~~
- - -
I just wrote the above and decided to look up ‘inner polarity’ on google. I found a section on the website of Ken Page, a new age healer. Although I don’t think he really touches upon most important part of the issue in his own story, I found a similar idea from his as my own ‘Ah-Ha’ of the day:"Usually our inner piece of polarity is locked or hidden in a space of our lives between our conscious recollections. Most times our inner piece of polarity is hidden in a place where we 'lost our heads', either out of fear, anger or rage, or we have become unconscious. It is different for every person. When you find your own inner piece of polarity (and it can usually be found within about five minutes), there will almost be a physical feeling of release, like a puff of smoke going poof.” And I found a site on the Tao Te Ching also using this concept:”Resolving one’s inner polarity is the key to spiritual growth. There is a tendency for people to undo their good efforts through the action of this inner polarity. The first step is to recognise the action of this polarity and relate this action to the action of outer polarity - seen in societal affairs and in Nature generally. The polarity cannot be abolished only balanced. For example the libido should be balanced against a heightened sense of responsibility. One cannot go around copulating indiscriminately, the consequences would be dreadful. So the desire to copulate must be converted into wanting to improve oneself and others.” I would agree with this Taoism idea. Instead of wanting to transcend or eliminate our polarity – For me, it’s like a layer of an onion, to ‘detox patriarchy’… to continue to come back into balance with what is ALWAYS in unison with true Life. The experience of being human, to react and to respond… doesn’t mean we are ‘less’ (again, polar idea) enlightened, or more ‘done’ with our ‘spiritual work’… it doesn’t mean the separated experiences even, are somehow separate from the WHOLE one. It’s just that we ‘forget.’ Hence the Tao idea of balance. To witness and use ‘Subtle Powers’ for our dance between many worlds … between the broken whirld and the Reality that is within and behind all experiences..
(Later, when I shared this realisation with Ming, he told me he has a technique in his counselling that deals with identifying/ healing the 'inner polarity'. More on this soon~ )
[ Poems & Musings | 2003-04-20 14:49 | | PermaLink ] More >
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| Wednesday, April 9, 2003 | |
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 "A world with many fruits yet bared and many more in prime
To pull apart the pulpy flesh and sip from what's inside
In ecstasy the warmth within is felt by sallow hands
Which mold an all to willing flesh entranced by feral eyes
Journey's end in lands once verboten,
By Crimson Might the precept was broken
From the skies yet more descend and swoop upon the tithe
For as Lords and Ladies this must surely be their prize
A glint of Mistress in their blades before they find their mark
And in the wake of frenzy's end the sated now depart
Silhouettes on ancient walls await the coming of nightfall
where shadows pale as one
As one blade with many wills with ceremonies end the nature reveals
The need for the piercing blows - an opiate to the night
By the Scarlet Lust Within the new found world will fall
In a land far, far from the source, far from the light
Order decayed, decay wore away the immortal pride
Greener pastures overcome by foul decay
The strongest first to fall with the weakest easily swayed
With a scarlet gauntlet I rule by might that shall never be tethered
In the Black & Crimson Glory I exist forever
from EPOCH OF UNLIGHT LYRICS
[ Poems & Musings | 2003-04-09 08:57 | | PermaLink ] More >
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| Sunday, March 30, 2003 | |
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voices voices voices of the heart
the tongue of the bones of the blood
of the homes
from the bones, the blood, and the home
the voices the voices
the voices from the hearts
There seems to be more of a line in the sand for me with what is going on right now. The altar where I will sacrifice no more the compromises that support lies. In the world and in my experience of it personally and transpersonally.... Tecia talks about the solar weather... I know that there are these waves, like 'Horton Hears a Who'... the waves of what is happening in our birth life death blood swimming pool of humanity in relation to the All, the solar system and galaxy... and yes like the solar weather... there is an interconnection on the level of the star energy dance between the movement of life, the electricity and the subsequent organic relationships... there is some reason for the human condition and it is different than the ideas of transcendence and 'awakening' but indeed it has to do with Consciousness. Ming talks about the issues of what could be 'before the before' ... Stephen Hawking talks about, if there could be mathematical proof of the beginning, then there could be proof of a 'creator'. But the idea of Creatrix, that is the ongoing, never-changing AND always changing, Source, that from the inside out and outside in.... in Hawking's movie of 'Brief History of Time'.... that indeed it is a BOWL like matrix, not a point. There isn't a point. The patriarchy, the thoughts that don't work, are the linear ideas that talk about a beginning middle and end. And just one story. When they are all converging and happening simultaneously -- yet in some sort of harmonic and then not... order dance or UNDERSTANDING of what is working together. The massive hypnotism of the FRAMED linear thought, that is the escape from feeling what is going on. What is really going on. Again, the red pill vs. the convenience of the lies. This is the line in the sand. My soul is a radical soul. My essence, where I orientate and come from. There is something not about right left or centre. But off the line. Get off the line.
The profound statement of supporting the troops. Patriotism. To support a state that supports killing our troops and pretends it is about heroism. The heros are not the ones who kill or organize the killing or defend the killing. And the ones who glorify killing our youth because that is the only place where a man can find some path forward in a systematized lie. The industrial military complex is just a means to give meaning to these lives that cannot find a break. And we will not make them into heros later. The heroism is the lie of the idea of what it means to support them. True support, would be to care enough not to terrorize young men and women in the false idea of glory. Therefore, I realize, the best way to support our troops is to stop trooping youth and their promise. To stop the machine that trips the troops into terror. I support the troops to somehow be saved from the horrific system that cares not for their souls, voices, hearts, blood and bones. Of the sons or their mothers. Mostly minorities and from the lesser sides of the tracks.
[ Poems & Musings | 2003-03-30 21:33 | | PermaLink ] More >
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| Saturday, March 15, 2003 | |
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 An old fan of mine, a producer in LA, wrote to me the other day -- I hadn't heard from him in years.Julie:
What do we do? You know what I'm talking about? Is there anything we can do?
Love,
A.S. And this is what I wrote back, in the moment of the Question:
Winding down the trail of light with all our might is all we can do ~ for I am loosing you.. ~ ~ these words to an old love poem, and I keep writing them years later... The beat of my bleating heart beats on... The mad crescendo of minds and the global brain expands, or so we keep hoping it does--- whilst total annihilation prevails ecologically, socially, environmentally, transpersonally,emotionally, psychologically--- and how can we separate anything anymore.anyway, all the '--lys' ----- in all senses, using all senses... we are separate and we are crazy.
I don't know what to do. I am living in this strange place of taking care of a baby and 2 years of debt--- my book is not done and we are back in the US for a couple more months. Should be back in Somerset in May... I look at this world and long for the old world, long to live in a Georgian plantation or French farmhouse. Live the life of an ex-pat. Which I shall. But is it even possible anymore on this planet.. ???? Did you ever see 'Dark City'... I keep hoping/ wishing I am going to wake up. There are angels always always in the midst... and yet yet the gnashing gnawing truth of physical destruction and PAIN... flies up and bites us in the bumm time and time ohhh is there is there is there any any any more TIME? .... That is the question. What does it mean to act, to do, to think? We are all over-circuited and twilight zoned out.
I was in Las Vegas last weekend and marveled at the beauty of our Roman empire. So vast, so opulent, so brash and naive and now alas alas gone mad---or perhaps not mad at all, for that would be enlightenment. Perhaps gone hard and cold and compliant. All roads lead, all roads led, all roads, will they end, here in this empire's lunatic labyrinth laments oh laments for, for, for...... the adolescent lamenting for some IDEA of liberty and righteousness. The right--- do they really believe their logical argument? They seem so pragmatic and sound, and yet ---- where where where is the truth? The lies of the patriots. The propaganda. Almost beyond the Third Reich. War Criminals: Hussein, Malosovitch, Bush, Blair, Hitler, Thatcher, Reagan --- massacres hidden by people like Collin Powel in Vietnam... Old Sins, yes old old sins... they a have long long long SHADOWS. And this is the redemption hour. The far right and the far left both call it Armageddon. But turned on J. Cambell the other night and we know, the stories and the myths, they are all symbolic. The wheel the circle the eternal return, that is beyond the idea of the symbol the name the face... and yet look at this fantastic stage and the players keep repeating performances. ... The sense to talk back in the boxed cages that they perpetrate and proliferate... that is the goal. Can we defend and explain what is not a box ? The problem of going into multiple dimensions at once.
Yes indeed it seems like so very long my dear old producer friendd and only TV fan... that we shared and dreamed of a Lights of the Round Table hovering above us like a Grail on the Holy Mantle of our Breif Shining Moment of Grace Faith and Ideas of Light.... The idea of nobility just always flies in the face of our obsession with self righteousness. That is why the Lightworkers ended up disgusting me and thus I with myself. I fled to Avalon only to find Underworld Gods tear at my inspiration and yet ... somehow left me clean of the rhetoric. No more. Not here. Still want authentic --- still want whole --- still want pure cosmic spewing love lust power of the red sash.... and the Mari line to be restored.
But meanwhile it's --- it's the continual end and beginning of the world.
What do we do? The Gods only know. Gods perhaps, that's who we need. Some new ones. In fact.
[ Poems & Musings | 2003-03-15 09:47 | | PermaLink ]
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| Saturday, February 22, 2003 | |
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 Way down
down down
the corridors
of our dreaming life,
the issues of war, bad art
and a Bohemian life--
continue
from the edge of love.
I remember something
from far over the cliffs
of our eternal
yearnings and fallings
and callings
of our name out,
out of that bottomless
pit of
continuous awakenings...
The Dream
keeps on
keepin' on...
baby we're falling
falling calling out
and love's desire
yes love's desire
is a current of twisted fate
and fallen lies.
Certainly not one of my better poems... but written the other night in the dim-light Beatnik Cafe in Joshua Tree, on some cheap scraps of cafe napkins... I was invited by my new friend Elia Arce. Elia has been involved with many projects including the Los Angeles Poverty Department (LAPD), a performance group that grew out of a 1985 workshop for the homeless of Los Angeles, Cultural Media Icons.. and so much more... I wasn't at all amazed to find all the references to her work on google. Our mutual friend Jay Levin introduced us recently. I always know that the quality of heart and true folks that I meet via Jay could only be extraordinary.
Elia's partner Ted Quinn has been hosting the Wednesday night 'Open Mic Night' at the Beatnik for over a year. Besides being a great song-writer, artist and activist, Ted Quinn is involved with a local recording studio in Joshua Tree which seems to be really attractive to LA artists wanting to escape Lala Lande to the High Desert.
During the 'open mic' eve., another mutual friend of Jay's whom I remember from my old LA days with my beloved biz and play partner Flemming and his The New Civilization Network Salons and my Lights of the Round Table Ceremonies... Mr. Art Kunkin walked in. Ted of course had to make mention of how the night was like a Woody Allen movie, when you ask for a cultural icon by name and say he is needed... (Well... remember it was Allen that said, "sixty Percent of life is just turning up") ... Actually, when I had walked in Ted was reading an email which Paul Krassner, another cultural icon I met recently through Jay... the email was a list of the peace rally marchers, by number, by country and city. He said later it took 45 minutes to read. I need to get the organization's name that sent this out, but here the World Socialist Web Site has a great run down...
Later Ted sang the lovely song 'Mrs. Lennon' in tribute to Yoko Ono, who turned 70 on Tuesday. Ted reminds us that she saved John from becoming the 'next Elvis'. He told a story of how after the Tokyo bombings, at 7 years old she took care of her 2 year old brother for days. When she was expressing her voice, she was often so misunderstood. Yoko seems to be one who understood how to use eccentric art forms to vent out what was NOT peaceful inside of us, in order to be a walking advertisement for peace in her lifestyle..
Ted mentioned how people like Lennon and Josephine Baker were asked to leave the country because of their ideals--and made a joke about Paris always looming in the wind. Link into how my friend Kelly says it was THEN in the days of the ex-pats of Hemmingway, Anais Ninn, Henry Miller... THERE and THEN... that art died. ... and maybe we are the last and only survivors of their off-beat ways.... I was struck through out the night with the idea of war, peace, love, oil, water, blood, sweat, artists, love, love and oh the agony of human love... the way the black sheep can find each other when everything is more fucked than ever. In Letecia's new blog, she speaks about all the poets that have showed up for peace. Why do we have to get so mad to be so alive? The contrasts between the 'logic' of the right and the 'insanity' of the artists... I see that when I read through all the websites I cite above for Art, Paul K, Elia, Jay, Ted... The black sheep conference can never really confer, or can it? And, why now it IS about the same issues my elders were ranting about in the '60s.
My Glastonbury friend and neighbour Palden put it thusly on this issue of how I--the 1966 born Fire-Horse--seem to be today, working with the energies which this whole 'Revolution' crew started when I was just about the age of my 22 month old daughter:"Indeed, there's something significant somewhere in all this. I was thinking last night (and this isn't an ageist put-down) how, in the year when you were born, I was about to take my first acid trip using Californian Owsley acid (I grew up in Liverpool, where things were happening quite bigtime, at the time) - and somehow there's a connection there. (There's also a connection inasmuch as I was born in what had been the American Generals' HQ in England in WW2). I became aware, when recently at the Green Gathering, surrounded by thirtysomethings, enjoying it and also noticeably valued by them, of this energy-connection to do with the choices for change that I made at that time - which many of my generation, of course, don't share (or they've buried), and which many of your generation variously embody. The interesting thing here is that, while physically my generation is older (with some of the dubious and sometimes jaded wisdom arising from that) your generation is evolutionarily more advanced - as it now is with our respective children and juniors too." Well, I know how intellectually LESS advanced I am... but I seem to always run into this theme.. there's something to being born around this time of the crazy 'Revolution' of my beloved Jay and all these great counter-culturists...
The madness, threads and rampant synchronicities continue... and the Dream beats on....
[ Poems & Musings | 2003-02-22 07:58 | | PermaLink ] More >
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| Saturday, January 25, 2003 | |
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 How can I get them out and sort them and explain them and justify them and organize them? What madness is it to think we can? As Dee Hock's theories I posted on Thursday describe, there is a madness and disorder to our constant state of becoming. I have been feeling very trapped and blocked in my creative outflow for some time now. The meeting with Flemming and that joy-filled consultant in December was the beginning of my re-emergence... Part of the conversations around specific thoughts and ideas have been wearing on me. Some beloveds in my life have wanted me to define and pin point what indeed is going on for me. If I could just be let to gestate in my own organic flow, and then the pulse the rhythm the idea the thought, yes even a specific one! ... can be discovered! I think I am an explorer of consciousness. Not a discoverer. A traverser. Or Traversess. A winger flow-er grower seer knower finder. Yes to traverse via the many dimensions of our becoming.
I drive past the famous San Gorgonio Pass windmills almost every day during my brief surreal stay of a few months back in the US... doing a crazy hodgepodge of helping an old colleague sell body jewelry as a means to support my baby and our dreams of getting back to England and then finally France by next summer... In my morning trance and ponderance... I whirl past the windmills and think about the famous song --- Like a tunnel that you follow... To a tunnel of its own.... Down a hollow to a cavern... Where the sun has never shone... Like a door that keeps revolving... In a half-forgotten dream... --- and I link back forth and back again always in this dream of my own making.... tracing the corridors of my psyche that is forever out of reach. In this dream of our becoming....
My initiations over here have been so very hard and weary... on so many levels, I must say in all honesty. in many ways it all being 'about Work' for me right now, on the major front of what is up with my present course at hand.... is staggering.... there is some inner continuous Prayer that I am entranced in, though on so many levels... I am just coping with what is before me.... though Life Herself continues to whisper me forth and brings me some strange mixed bag of courage, hope and strength---- must I say, despite it all.... despite it all...... I am climbing a seeming uphill course. But, I can see the Inner Compas' Needle has already some subtle shifts on the Inner... and then, Pop! Looking back at the direction forward... I see indeed a few Shifts have also occurred.
If we are this choardic creatures that must surrender to an organization beyond our desire to control and organize in a flat pancake hallucination model that no longer exists.... then Ming's ideas about how we're all Overwhelmed is accurate.... how do we surrender and abandon the false prisms of our mind? Come into harmony with what is being honed via the organic tests of our continuum? Life swings, balances, remains, sustains... if only we trusted even the underworld initiations in our mythos.... individually and in the transpersonal.
Yes and from one perspective, I have been in a type of Hell, a feeling of 'no way out' --- some sort of trapped mind, state, static state of limbo. And yet the star juice, the spewing stuff that glues it all together, it seems to be all around me even when especially when I am weeping inside... for the prisons we strange beautiful humans create.... and also for the trap doorways into the which we continuously ignore but yet fall into ... in this Thread of Mystery that prevails, again and again and again....... I read an Agatha Christie book last week and loved this quote about 'sins having long shadows'... and I think that's what's happening in my life quite specifically right now. I am somehow coming to terms with my own separation from Life, where I have betrayed myself and hidden from my own decision to say Yes to the gold before me, what I am here to offer.... and at the same time, I feel more in Service in the most simplest ways, to the Unfoldment of the Dreaming Life....
Is it possible the Blog Mind is the great crescendo of the Global Brain --- the cruscendo that Leonard Shlain speaks about in The Alphabet versus the Goddess? That we cannot mind-map that which is driven from the poetic, primal pulse from the Mother's spewing Nebuliac Womb? And what has been trapped, compressed, underground, pushed, within me and within all of us --- is this uncoiling of a large serpentine lover just waiting to slither us into stardust and crystal clear chaordic understandings?
Is the only way for me to awaken from this Trance, is it to just Be the Trance itself? Accept I am always in this state of Becoming? The explorer becomes the map... as Dan Winter puts it, the map literally becomes the terrain! We just do what we do, float where we float, show up as we can, sing the disharmonic chords, and in this spewing the light and emerging pattern finds us out as a reflective mirror of Emergence itself.
[ Poems & Musings | 2003-01-25 11:01 | | PermaLink ] More >
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| Friday, January 17, 2003 | |
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 All my roads have led to the continual levels of the Tower of my life's mythos making... and all of those roads have led me to France. All of my closest beloveds have known, the pervasive dream of getting there has become ever so more nearer and dearer and realer in the past few years since I embarked upon my descent into the underworld initiations of Avalon. Within two days of moving to Glastonbury in June of 1999, I was whisked away by an old lover to Juan le Pin near Cannes. I would follow only a few weeks later on my Mary Magdalene journey... the main subject of my personal and transpersonal research for many years. The mysteries, the lande, the scarlet threads... all wind me in and enfold me in the dream of my own French living....
Then Ming has the audacity to announce he's moving his 'family' to the
"South of France" .. and how the decision making process rather solidified itself in the past week. Last summer I had my house sold in England and actually went on a scouting mission to the exact region he 'chose'. I would be there now if it weren't that the house deal fell through. The funny thing is he admits to having some sort of amnesia about me, my France thang, and even doesn't remember what I departed to him about my research and trip there last summer.
Since I have been back in the States, to recover lost debt over the last couple years, etc etc... and try to return to Glastonbury this spring in a stronger financial position... Flemming has very much missed his magic making ventures with me his soul star sister. He even paid for an expensive soul path consulting with a man named Al Joy in LA on Friday the 13th a month ago.... just so we could get to the bottom of what needs to be done to rekindle our worth and Work together... in Synchronicity Networks and our OrgSpace modules... as well as how we could just return to the Mystery that lies between our souls, and manifest the gold there in a more Real World attainment. The meeting was excellent... and it was from that that I was prompted to start my own Blog.
But one of the things the Joy Man hit on the head, is the Towers I find myself in this life. The personal and transpersonal mythos of a magdala woman, is one who DEVOTES her abilities to those worthy of it. It seems that Ming has been one such selected candidate in our shared story... but that since I got married, he had somehow forgotten his responsibilities to releasing me. It came down to, he has the technology and he can rebuild me.... hehe... Or in our case, release me from the towers. The bombardment of feelings, thoughts and musings that pass through my body and mind vehicle from all the soul currents galactically and beyond... must be given vehicles to be released. I need direction, support and commitment. Don't we all. But the nice thing is Ming finds me worthy in return, of being a walking breathing living galvanizer, embodiment of the technology that we wish to birth in a self-organizing way.
So, hey, thanks Ming,for remembering me -- NOT -- in my dream of dreams!!!
Yesterday we icq'd on this for a long time. He seemed to have a few eye openers and realized that indeed the launching of our projects will help both of us with income streams whilst we individually or collectively start a new European existence. He said he saw the dots of it... but it was like he was the magician behind the curtain and the fuzz balls of it got stuck in his edifices. Let's wipe your eyes, clean out your nose and remember those who have supported you... and all the members of your 'family' for now on, when you make decisions! Emmanuel, my 'husband', was asking why I was still mad that Flemming was moving to France. I am not mad he is moving. I am wounded and trapped that instead of helping the whole family, in all dimensions, get on with their dreams... he seemed to be almost diminishing mine... making me feel like indeed I am in a dream. He will go forth and forget me. Make it happen and I will be forever towered. That's the fear. Of course after we talked, he seemed more committed than ever to bring it all together. I just wonder how on earth he can be so forgetful?! smile. I think, after this post (which he encouraged me to write) he may indeed get his key-making skills more honed and unlock some of my chamber doors... and be more cognizant of our intregal role in each other's unfolding.
[ Poems & Musings | 2003-01-17 07:37 | | PermaLink ] More >
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