I have been found .. and my life has sprouted new blossoms. Thought to have withered in the premature wintering of crumbling youth, there is a resurgence.

A new breath. A fertile abundance. A pure love so true, cosmic rumblings boom!

There is this self-possession surfacing. Where once attention was spread toward others, a centering of self-reliant verve radiates. It heats up like a bubbling inferno. A spark ignited by a minutiae. The love inside permeates every corpuscle. This love resides in the hearth of all matter. It turns universal.

Indeed a love of another, a deep love, sprung forth. Before that can be deliciously dissected, highlighting the  “the greatest Love of all” takes precedence. Honored since the beginning of humanity’s awareness ~ Loving thy Self  ~ is a calling of luminescence. Self-love is not just a ‘selfish’ thing but a selfless endeavor when it catalyzes a volcanic loving for everyone.

***

Have the salacious words of another synced so precisely to the bud of your soul that the lingering warmth inside and all around you made your cheeks blush? A verdant understanding grew upon reading the alluring prose of “Entre Nous” by Debra Ollivier. It expressed my Joie de vivre (joy for life) and Je ne sais quoi (pinache). It deflowered my born-again virginal awakening.

| If you strip away the stereotypes and contradictions about her, one of the fundamental qualities associated with the French girl is her sense of self-possession. She is entirely, unequivocally self-contained. She is focused on living her own full life, following her own agenda and cultivating her actual self, rather than reinventing herself or pining away to be someone she’s not. Throughout her life, she invests herself in learning and experiencing, not to change who she is , but to become more fundamentally and more fully who she truly is. Taking her cues predominantly from within — from the life of her mind and the exercise of her critical intelligence — she is imbued with a strength of character and a certain sensitivity. Because she is sure of who she is on the inside, she naturally, inevitably, appears sure of herself on the outside. |

Living most of my life on the wild side, having reached the pinnacle of a multitude of middle-age crises since my mid-20s, there was this raging battle waged amidst my innards. Grappling with a questionable sense of self based on the age-old rival of good vs bad, a churning rumbling consumed my confidence. The youthful liberties succumbed to critical wisdom and growing fear. Fear nearly consumed me whole.

The love inside was replaced with an uncertainty having lost my center in spreading myself too thin amongst the masses. A growing tragedy ripped the cortex of my existence, shaking the fragile firmament holding my shards together. Then somewhere down my fog misty road, there was a shadowy glimmer of hope. A divine gift was bestowed.

Another two month empasse occurred during my auspicious dip into repetitious cyclical behavior, ensnared in trappings too familiar to boast on. It is the simple adage that you cannot love anyone else until you first learn to love yourself. Yet, for a woman of my age and seeming maturity, everything is re-learning/ re-living/ re-evaluating/ re-emerging/ and re-inventing… to ultimately re-incarnate.

Ridiculous!

 

Oh, how I’m tired of dealing with douche bags…

We come across daily encounters with people of various personalities, questionable restitution, and even more delicate constitutions. I can be considered the latter of all three. I do not wish to blame others or situations for my condition, nor make excuses or alter my persona.

I definitely wear my heart on this dusty sleeve. I accept myself when others cannot and do my best to accept others who dare try. It is perhaps time to recondition my modus operandi and way of thinking. I must protect my frailty and nurture my mind.

For much time, I fed my conscience with inconsistencies. I grazed on fantasy and non-reality through either the eyes of outside forces or my own. My intellect was sucked of vital nutrients and left to wrinkle in the guise of neglect. Before I ask for accountability from other pirates, I must look inwardly and understand how I allowed any pillaging to occur. Meaning: my innocence was raped, my sensitivity grappled, and the ideology of things were marred.

There is a two month gap here. There’s a lot of reflection and recapping currently being surmised to resolve this tyrannical flow overwhelming my senses. Life can rev you up like a heated motor, but it is up to us to pace our strides. Someone told me last year, “all the answers you seek can be found in the Tao.” Each reading does enrapture more to eschew. I believe I have come to find some answers in me.

It was pegged in the heat of a flagrant argument that I should know more about myself. What little this judgment states is a non-factor. My best friend told me that when a person is pointing one finger at you, they are merely pointing three fingers at themselves. It’s not a matter of knowing more about thy self that was the issue- it was the process of becoming aware of the elements. When you know yourself, you do not have to explain anything. Your actions speak louder, and your silence is empowering. The kindnesses you afford people will resound.

In paying attention to what surrounds you, the elements of which people will disguise and hide themselves may be the very things that could destroy your fluffed idea of them. It is in my experience to question what you see and rely less on seeing what you believe. The truth has a way of rearing her ugly head.

Knowledge and awareness are two separate entities. I do not boast to be all-knowing (for that’s asinine), and being aware of oneself is a true talent.

What I do know is that I am in recovery. Recovering from the fiscal backlash of a tumultuous entrepreneurial endeavor can be wearisome. It reminds me of an elderly retirement and how history shows us signs. Signs on how to avoid possible detriment or simply signs to strive harder and be more ambitious.

The other night after an inspiring business meeting, I found myself chasing ghosts. Realizing this, I walked away from the sight of something that could harm me to look ahead and keep treading my unbeaten path. Sadly, the night after, I did not take this lesson and stumbled right into the damaging images of something far more hauntingly destructive to my sensibilities. When you think you are strong enough to handle a situation, it is wise to be clear about where your strength comes from and whether you are being true to yourself.

In Shakespeare, I find how comedic tragedy happened then and continues to unfold spectacularly in today’s society. “To thine own self be true” was in the classic literature of Hamlet. For a long time, I have been less true to myself as I have attempted to be true to others. I’ve prioritized outside of me rather than what resides within. It is beyond time that I put myself first and distract less from my progress and reconstructive healing.

I’ve noticed how my truest feelings burrow into deeper levels of my subconsciousness. Had I had the propensity to unleash the thought sooner, I could have approached certain situations with a wiser awareness. Relearning the process of omitting such words as shouda’, woulda’, coulda’ helps aid my mission. My goal is having a healthier sense of my mind and easing this woman’s pride. Allowing liberty and bliss to reclaim resounding peace.

More prolifically, I abolish this warped philosophy brimming with blinded wishes and foolish dreams. I eliminate regrets and false hopes. And, I annihilate perpetrators who mess with my heart.

I will disarm anyone who thinks less of me.

The misfortune of being a constantly forgiving and open individual is that sometimes certain factors and non-factors get overlooked. It is neither naive nor unintelligent, it is choosing an experiential enlightenment even if it has the propensity to bruise or sting or even break a piece of your ignorance.

Foolish acts sometimes turn into brilliant stepping stones.

For me to look forward to my future, it’s important to keep in mind that every present moment turns into a past exchange. An exchange of time, ideas, love, friendship, events, and experiences. What’s done may be done, but it is in the “knowing” how to approach an aftermath or after “thought” that can make a big difference. Time is transcendental, and everything eventually becomes a memory.

I’m baaa-aaa-aaack!

I have been MIA but semi-living large for two months, and my view has been askewed.. Made terrible judgment calls on personal endeavors caught up in the wrong situation and giving way too much of myself to undeserving people. I lost focus on my drive, my closest people like real family and true friends, and let’s get back to the self again. I found my genuine self in shredding my blinded hope in others. The pain was excruciating rising above it. It’s what may aptly be called “growing pains.”

But at my age, I am not growing. I can change, but certain ways are set. Like me or leave me. Accept me or grieve me. I was born this way, I grew into who I am, and I love my idiosyncratic disorders. I’m finally learning the last lesson in internal self-mutilation. Never again does anyone get anything free from my loving compassion in return for dates and feeding frenzies. I was fed bullshit upon bullshit upon bullshit, distracted by enticing excursions, and misled to believe that everything was done for some kind of benefit. My heart nearly imploded by the last couple of week’s distress, but the cliche is true… “what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” Not that it’s as dramatic as that, but the transference of negative energy and vile behavior was potentially toxic and I ate it up like a dumbo buttercup.

My Spring from the point where I left off could have gone much more pleasant had I kept my eye on the prize… Me! I was a treasure opening up to only clam into a transmuted version of who I’m aiming to become now. Something got ripped from my bosom last week, and the old naivete is gone leaving in its wake a “No bullshit” and rock hard bad-ditude. If it smells or reeks of crap, I tune it out. My loving feeling is numbed out, and I just want to experience the seedy grit of life. I’m so effin’ tired of being the ‘good girl.’

Despite contrary opinion, I was as good as it got and did the best that I could in any situation. It is a shame how people force their transgressions into your guiltiness. My cup runneth over by those who berated my spirit.

I squashed a lot of my temptations though I did many things in these past months I am not proud of, and yet… I find how amazingly advanced I’d become compared to sad little reminders of a time when things were far more distorted and my self-image as well as perception on life was broken, and whatever I experienced recently only felt harsher because my perception’s enlightened. I see things that others can’t see, hear things that seem to be unspoken, and I especially feel things one would think the other doesn’t feel at all. What I do know is that I’m gonna’ break this all down one day, and it is not going to be pretty or kind.

In the meantime, I have to let my cryptic words let sleeping dogs lie.

Somehow in the the new whirlwind ready to spin me around a magnanimous frenzy to plant my feet firmly on the ground, I find myself eager to get out to NYC. I want to see my peeps in Jersey, the Brooklynites, and my Chelsea LES girls. Miami’s right around the corner. Where one trip failed so fantastically forward, two times the charmer takes its place. And when one man moves aside, a better one comes along to take his place. Or so it seems. Maybe two men and a minxy yogi masseuse-in-training. Even better, a resilient glorious Independent Me is…

Awakening!

Life

is

Good

now.

I got the power. It’s the power in me, restrengthened to overcome whatever obstacle. What’s done is done, and it ’tis what it motha’ fuckin’ is yo! Peace begins with ME!!!

My world turned upside down. This roller coaster whips a psychedelic trip. Flying towards my destiny, the days speed like light streams. My lessons demolish me like a mac truck. Surges press a consistent urgency to remind myself to breathe as I bounce back stronger and wiser.

Business opportunities crop everywhere, interests sparkle all around, and karma rears her pretty lil’ head. Being cognizant and conscious of all my sticky maneuvers, I happenstance progressive steps back to take it all in. The Ides of March catalyzed my fiery ascent and free fall.

The indelible impact of many souls circumvents my rise. An event horizon cracked the surface to a most intriguing folly. The motions to spearhead a career based on percolating particles manifesting in the spirit of idealistic grandiose fantastical fascinations comes full circle.

My writing romanticizes a full breadth of research, articulated experience, and insurmountable content. It flows like a river in the wake of the blow hard rattle crackling my third eye to stay aware and be ever evolving. Space and time ebb and flow merging every nuance like a knitted garment.

“We need to give each other the space to grow, to be ourselves, to exercise our diversity. We need to give each other space so that we may both give and receive such beautiful things as ideas, openness, dignity, joy, healing, and inclusion.” [Max de Pree]

Every moment is the moment I feed from, and every experience is the pure existence of my being. For every good trickle, for every questionable friction, for every foul delicacy … I am, I be, I feel … Free! I live my life the way I see fit, and I will not settle for anything less than extraordinary.

We live this lifetime, however long or short, to move onto the next rocketeer adventure. I crave and hunger to be satisfied and fulfilled. Simplicity is letting go of what you once knew to welcome what you are prepared to endure. My faith restores itself, and my spirit nurtures me.

In this life, I want what I want and need what I need. To visibly differentiate between the two is where the pendulum swings. I need to master my abilities, nourish my craft, and propel this enchantment pulsing within my bosom. I am grateful to the core of my berth for every influence.

I amend as much as I can, do the best I can, and shall be the most of who I am. In every movement, gratuitous hope to succeed in the daily grind of cosmic minutia replenishes growth. In the revelations grasping towards a budding equilibrium, may my motion be humane with compassion toward all things.

On the cusp of new beginnings,

I verge to rotate my verve

opening abundant wonder

unleashing my steely nerve.

-*-

Carpe effin’ diem!

Wtf! Is Mercury in retrograde?

Bad things surely does happen in threes. Had my third strike this week, two in one day. I seriously need a drink, a cigarette, and a spliff all in one. Anything to numb the pain. God help me.

Perhaps not to be is to be without your being,
without your going, that cuts noon light
like a blue flower, without your passing
later through fog and stones,
without the torch you lift in your hand
that others may not see as golden,
that perhaps no one believed blossomed
the glowing origin of the rose,
without, in the end, your being, your coming
suddenly, inspiringly, to know my life,
blaze of the rose-tree, wheat of the breeze:
and it follows that I am, because you are:
it follows from ‘you are’, that I am, and we:
and, because of love, you will, I will,
We will, come to be.

Pablo Neruda

-*-

“Si Tu Me Olvidas”
By Pablo Neruda

En Español:
(In Spanish)

Quiero que sepas
una cosa.

Tú sabes cómo es esto:
si miro
la luna de cristal, la rama roja
del lento otoño en mi ventana,
si toco
junto al fuego
la impalpable ceniza
o el arrugado cuerpo de la leña,
todo me lleva a ti,
como si todo lo que existe:
aromas, luz, metales,
fueran pequeños barcos que navegan
hacia las islas tuyas que me aguardan.

Ahora bien,
si poco a poco dejas de quererme
dejaré de quererte poco a poco.

Si de pronto
me olvidas
no me busques,
que ya te habré olvidado.

Si consideras largo y loco
el viento de banderas
que pasa por mi vida
y te decides
a dejarme a la orilla
del corazón en que tengo raíces,
piensa
que en esa día,
a esa hora
levantaré los brazos
y saldrán mis raíces
a buscar otra tierra.

Pero
si cada día,
cada hora,
sientes que a mí estás destinada
con dulzura implacable,
si cada día sube
una flor a tus labios a buscarme,
ay amor mío, ay mía,
en mí todo ese fuego se repite,
en mí nada se apaga ni se olvida,
mi amor se nutre de tu amor, amada,
y mientras vivas estará en tus brazos
sin salir de los míos.

Today, the intensity of my days caught up to me forcing me to chillax. In deep. My body is a wonderland, and I am glad to cherish her by maintaining the ride yet keeping her treasures saved for an adventurist roaming in my vivacious dreamscapes. No certainty of what the days ahead will unfold, but I am fully satisfied in my solitude and enjoyed every minute of this quiet reprieve. I am missing just one thing, but in missing it – I shall see my heart’s truest desire and be sated in my own phoenix fire.

What a fulfilling and absolutely energetic day. Swan sequence yoga, kundalini Willpower, bellydance Shimmy, and Bodyrock kept me moving. Appointments were set for the week, and last minute details were finalized for the West Coast trip in two weeks. Feeling blessed to be alive.

Retreat has been scheduled for the upcoming weekend.

Started cooking again to prepare for a Friday night fancy. Made this Trapanese recipe passed onto me by my former Sicilian. The gaspacho-esque sauce can either be a delicious pasta treat or a tasty bruschetta. Designed a four course menu for the pre-festivities to a boogie down night.

Met a new friend who helped put a lot of missing pieces into perspective. Kawa broke down the psyche of male inequities. He mirrored much of what another friend tried telling me all along. I must take care of my tidbits not sweating what is outside of my center. I am on top of my responsibilities consistently.

Holding onto all the prolific advice a budded horticulturist shared with me even if letting go of ideals allow other aspects to escape me.

A simple gesture being told I am beautiful opened my heart. Sigh. To hear the words ring true by a genteel gent who has laid his eyes on me spying through the windows of my soul. Having seen my swagger and sway, he can declare I am sexy. And the consensus from another chum or two echoed, I’m humbled.

I know therefore I am.

In being, I do and Have.

Has it come to this test?

Have I allowed degradation, condescension, and a belittling whittling corrupt my beauteous assurance that I am more than what these snakes have hammered into my psyche? Have I been played by maniacal infiltrators? And why have I let it continue or ever affect my illuminating brilliance?

Shame on them… Shame on me. Karmic retribution boomerangs. Everything gets avenged. What comes around may go around other byways. Bygones.

I immediately changed this dynamic by demanding to be treated better, corresponding only to people who endear me, and standing up against those who continuously find it alright to deflect their idiosyncratic rudeness to my sensitive nature. I welcome those who promote light, and I refuse any less than shared compassionate respect.

What I need does not coincide with whom I thought I needed it from, because I am the only one who can fulfill my most necessary needs. In the absence of Him, there is Her. There is my shine. Better than any high-brow wine. Poetess, word!

Yes, I am a treasure. I am pleasure exemplified. I am a fount of wondrous intrigue. I am a goddess from spirit to starlight. I’m working on my goodness, and the universal cosmic thread is weaving around me.

Nobody will break my stride.

I have no more energy for people who abandon or who could care less. Albeit, a trespasser- undeclared player- family member- false friend or foe. My efforts go towards the ones who show endearing gestures to be here, to be in my present, and to keep me connected. Anything else is a grand waste of precious time. What I need most is to be treated right. I will fight anyone who refutes me. And I shall admire those who support.

This I hold true, I am a Phenomenal Woman yo!

Pretty women wonder where my secret lies.
I’m not cute or built to suit a fashion model’s size
But when I start to tell them,
They think I’m telling lies.
I say,
It’s in the reach of my arms
The span of my hips,
The stride of my step,
The curl of my lips.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

I walk into a room
Just as cool as you please,
And to a man,
The fellows stand or
Fall down on their knees.
Then they swarm around me,
A hive of honey bees.
I say,
It’s the fire in my eyes,
And the flash of my teeth,
The swing in my waist,
And the joy in my feet.
I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Men themselves have wondered
What they see in me.
They try so much
But they can’t touch
My inner mystery.
When I try to show them
They say they still can’t see.
I say,
It’s in the arch of my back,
The sun of my smile,
The ride of my breasts,
The grace of my style.
I’m a woman

Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

Now you understand
Just why my head’s not bowed.
I don’t shout or jump about
Or have to talk real loud.
When you see me passing
It ought to make you proud.
I say,
It’s in the click of my heels,
The bend of my hair,
the palm of my hand,
The need of my care,
‘Cause I’m a woman
Phenomenally.
Phenomenal woman,
That’s me.

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