Transformation

     From December, 2016...

     These last few months I have been trying to "find myself".  I have been rediscovering what it is I might want out of life while working a very few hours at a coffee house.  I have been meditating and learning healing breath work, and I have dislodged some deep trauma.  I feel it in my muscles and bones, so I do a crap-load of yoga to try and release it.  I feel like a washcloth that is being rinsed and wrung out- twisted up to let loose the gunk and then starting all over again.
 
     It's kind of like cleaning out a closet you haven't looked at in a long time; there's no telling what might be in there until you start to drag it all out.  There's stuff in there that is going to take you down memory lane, things that no longer fit you even though you keep holding on to them, and bits that you forgot you loved so much.  You take it all out and look at it, and the closet starts to make sense, but the room is full of shit now.  All that crap is all over the bed and the floor and it's hard to tell how to organize it.  You have to decide what goes and what stays.  It's going to take time and it has to get worse before it gets better.  That is the nature of change and growth.

       Hopefully that can also explain what is happening right now in US politics.  Apparently there is a lot of shit that is still in our American closet.  Many US citizens, turns out, are not only afraid of and discriminating towards the gay and trans community and women (knew that, duh), but racial prejudice is still rampant!  The closet has been emptied and we can all see eachother... we can see the racists, bigots and misogynists and ALSO the LGBTQA+ community, the women who won't take shit any more, the witches, the goddesses, and the strong communities of all races.  The next generation will decide what stays and what goes from this big closet cleaning.

    It's exhausting but every time I think I need to be going to look for some "good job" or trying to hustle some money I just want to go get into the child's pose for an hour and maybe take a walk a read some books and do some writing and I realize the right job is not my answer.

    I am trying hard to love myself and it's going to take a lot of practice to get it right.  Writing is becoming part of my practice.  I have been journalling and working on rough pages for something that may someday become a book.  It could feel really selfish to be loving myself in this way, but I am hoping to connect to this human condition of knowing our own mortality and feeling the loss of our friends and family, of realizing the grand impermanence of every day and the gift of every moment, and of the glorious miracle that is consciousness.