defenestrate
“This place where you are right now, God circled on a map for you.”
Napkin Notes
it is not enough to change the role of women in society; we must change the perception of what it is to be equal. we must reform the gaze of the Other in order to fully transform as a society.
it comes from the inside; you cannot go in as an outsider- the reformation must occur from inside of the system, community, and individual.
rules are put into place so people stay consistent and constant. otherwise, we would all be reacting to change. how can we grow together if we are not following a script? this is the question tantra imposes: how to move, be fluid, adapt, and respond to growth while remaining loyal to your commitments.
THE HEART is the only space strong enough to withstand such a pressure!
you actually felt the ending in Marrakesh- when you went alone, and he stayed behind. that is when you first felt that it was not about establishing a relationship between the two of you and more about going along for the ride and rhythm of what appeared that suited his interest.
on the train, you felt it and brought up Santorini and Istanbul. at Mouna's, it was the most profound. you felt it in the living room; how the moment had passed, and you were gripping so hard with your sweaty palms out of fear of being alone again. That was a precious time- and it should have ended when you went to bed in your white lace dress, and he was in the living room, angrily pushing weights. it was over then, and you felt it, and you kept pushing into it to leave a link to something permanent even though you know that it doesn't exist. what a trip! around the world into the heart cave. he opened a portal for you. it was unblemished, holy, absolute, and destined to be broken.
We must seek what we are willing to become.
Do not go into the story- follow the song of the soul. The pain is precious; the pressure will expose a part of yourSelf you did not previously see. We take someone into our hearts and cause an ache because the person is not cooked; they are still raw- their ego is still present. They are not soft, moist, or tender. The ego punctures the tender heart.
I feel a constant ache in my body that I cannot fill. Food, drink, sleep, sound, movement, writing; none of it soothes. The pang is there when I wake up and does not release me until I pass into the dream world. I do not recall anything from the sleeping hours. A navy curtain falls, and there are no stars, nothing to point at and wonder about.
Is this how one discovers God? Is this how the song of the sacred arises in the spirit? Out of such a deep lonesomeness that cannot be avoided or satiated through external objects. No sonnet will save me. My usual touchstones are not providing the reprieve I need. Tears like grains of sand on my face, hot and itchy. Salvation! What is it? Who am I speaking with? Everything appears the same, and the shadows on the white walls beyond my window show me outlines of trees I cannot directly see.
Is that why I met Abderrahmane? To bring me closer to the Divine Love of Him? Abderrahmane translates from Arabic as 'Servant of the Most Gracious,' it is one of the names of Allah in the Qur'an.
I've been floundering this whole time and did not see the life buoy right in front of my face!
I dreamt for the first time last night. I have not been able to recall my dreams for weeks. When I wake up its like someone cranked the wrench on my insides to stop the projector from running. My feet are always clean when I get into bed. I wash my shins and clean the lint between my toes. I'm going for a foot massage and pedicure today. I nearly lost a nail from running. It's short and black and wiggles like something rotting in the earth, though; it holds on. It won't fall out.
In my dream, he was with me. We were traveling through Berlin and staying in a dark room tucked in the forest. He wouldn't come near me. He wouldn't share the bed and set up all his clothes on the floor. Amanda is contemplating the Assumption of the Agenda and how strong the will is to control the narrative. Why don't people show up to play? I asked Clara. How's your heart? She replied.
In my dream, he wore dark shorts and I begged him to cuddle me under the white tasseled blanket I bought in Tagazhout. He did, and I felt him, and he pushed me away and got upset. I stifled my sobs on the phone call with Clara. What are you making for breakfast? Great question, she responded. I didn't hear anything after that. I'd been standing in the centrer of the park under a tree of purple and orange flowers and pinched the skin on my belly so hard my nails left small crescent punctures. Above and below my navel where my ring left a small white scar.
In my dream, I was hopeful that he would change his mind, though I could feel that he wouldn't. I called for a taxi and a woman arrived who was my age. Let's go somewhere fun! I said. She took me to a bird sanctuary where the pink canaries swooped in low arcs from branch to birdseed. I thought of Jackson. I used to hold his hand as he peeped between the bamboo to look at the Koi pond at the bird conservatory back home. Code and Frankie liked to search for the mice scooping the seeds from the bird feeders.
What do you think the loneliness is attached to, where does it stem from?
The stem is planted in mud with too much water so it sways from side to side. Small snails stick to the sides and suck-suck-suck on the algae. Their homes are made of two layers of crystals. Their antennae stick out to smell the environment. They sense, they don't think; the gastropods. It smells like earth and iron. My gums bleed and I spit mouthfuls of red when I brush my teeth. This is who I've always been.
I feel forsaken. Not by him, not by us, but because of my disconnect with The Goddess. The Great Unseen Mother guides the rotation of the earth within the sacred spiral of the unyielding universe. There is no celibacy in the cosmos! All things bounce and burst! All things break and become! All things are tempered and turbulent and taunting.
I've been writing to my guides for a year on this trip. Simone. Anias. Clarice. When really, my efforts and love belong only to God. I use the masculine and feminine alternately because I bow to the two halves of creation: Shiva and Shakti. There cannot be one without the other. I need them both.
Yesterday in the intensive, I cried during the mantra and could only whisper the words: Om Namah Shivaya over and over, until my face was salt. My heart pounded from the Goddess knocking so so hard on that door! Open up! She cried with each fist! Don't hold back, I am here for you, always.
I feel abandoned because I forgot I CAN drop in at any moment and taste that aliveness I crave in others. The Gaze! How do I turn that light and warmth upon myself? How do I connect to that precious summer when I wake up to the heavy rain?
One molecule said yes to the other molecule and LIFE was born.
We are made of atoms that reflect light.
I am subtle fire, Sepharina Dawn.
Photo source.
