Seek and Find

Seek it out and find where you land. The greatest sound is silence yet I listen through noise. To grow the grain, this fertile ground, this sacred ground. If you’ve lost your way, find it home. Seeking far.

All things become the prayer, ration out what we think is fair. The words of another braided into my hair. Say our thanks, become the prayer. Seeking out far.

Your gift is your sovereignty, and how far you choose to climb. Your gift is your presence. Your gift is your dance, your voice, your sound. Your truth in the face of all oppression and hateful minds, thoughts or forceful bodies. what dies when you let go? The grip onto control? You know you are of this earth and too you are of the stars. The algorithm of the cosmos and the creative centers that make their magic through your vessel. You know that you are is much more, you are so much farther beyond all you have ever known.

Will you show me where it hurts and will you give it your love?

I don’t need much light to see into the dark. You’re not born just to die. Trust your hearts intuition, don’t be scared, you’re not born just to die. You are born to thrive, to fly, to reach out and beyond what you may ever have thought. One step, one breath at a time. Do you know how to play the violin? Do you want to learn how to?

Utilize the beautiful instrument until you make it sing. This is your body, this is your consciousness. This is your breath and this is your being.

—-

Stand my ground, I won’t back down. So I read a book, a book guided by all the flowers and all the dreams and all the premonitions. One day I will shave my head and one day I will tattoo it in the way I’ve seen done online and I won’t back down from following my joy. I won’t back down from falling in love with myself and the mystery and my life. There’s no easy way out and I won’t back down. I stand my ground, there ain’t no easy way out. I stand my ground, and I won’t back down.

—

It’ll take me a lot to drag me away from myself and from the mirror of divinity that I see. It’s inky black and it oozes like tar, and I guess that is the sneaky ooze of what is released. Yet the beauty holds, and the beauty shines forth form within, through frosted window pains and sunlight that flitters. The light always shines though. And I write to clear, to clear and to bring back to life. Like the defibrillator paddles of bringing the heart back into the show. It’s gone too far back, father than the back row. To hide, to disappear, to not be seen. For there is embarrassment here, and shame, and the idea of not wanting to be seen. But why? Because what you have to share might not be the face that they would like you to bear? Because it’s not the traditional thing they view and deem as beautiful and kind and lovely?

What then? What if I bring to the show the energy of mars, of mars and Pluto and it is something of the deep and it makes you tear up and weep. What if what I share is the tattered body if grief that you have been hiding behind. Ignoring and pretending not to see. What if what I bring forward is everything you have ignored and tried to leave behind and here I stand: bright and strong and loving. Amongst all the shadows. All the versions of yourself that you have put away and shunned and dissed. What then, what then, when I stand here as you yearn to go forth and I declare no. No. You must sit in it. You must sit in it until you feel the love envelop all of your being. You must sit in it until you feel the warmth permeate all of your cells. To sit in it until you feel warm tears of patience dripping from your eyes, leaving streams of light, cutting through all the crud. This is the cleanse, this is from the inside out this time. It has always been form the inside out.

-‘=

What then? What then? When I ask this of you? When my body refuses to move forward until you acknowledge and you see and you feel and you know yourself in fullness? No part of you can be ignored, no part of you can be put away, no part of you can be locked up. All of you wants and needs your love and so this is why I sit in the shadows and this is why the dark castle in my leg has found its space of permanent impermanence.

I’d sit in the shadows until you turned around and saw. A stubborn calf, I refused to go forward. I refused to budge, I refused to move, so you came to me in a dream and said you’re not ready to be seen with me, for me to come up and out of the cave and for us to walk together, not yet, there was still something more. And what I believed was that you were ashamed of me and what I brought forth. What I triggered in others, through my affiliation to Pluto’s and mars. We don’t play the way Venus does, we don’t communicate the way mercury speaks, we don’t shine the way the sun does. We upend and dismantle and we cut through. From the deepest and the darkest spaces we bring out and through the purest and the brightest of light and I’m sorry that it’s not what you wanted or what you expected, yet these words are a transmission and they will bring forth all it is that you need.

And so I sit here and I wonder. What else, what more do you need from me? What would make me worthy of walking within the light of day? What I hear and what you say is love, love for all of you. The stubborn parts too. They have more to share with you. It’s love for the darkness, love for the depth, love for the unknown. Love for the part of you that digs your claws in so fucking deep that it draws blood. Love for this part of you too, and all the others. The ones that bite and snarl and growl and howl and wish to rip flesh from bone and scream to the moon. On becoming; a werewolf.

You first must love all of you, all of you in fullness, before reaching out into the depths to clasp a hand, for it will come up cold and empty if your own love has not already filled that space. So I paced back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. Fuming and writhing with rage. “It was always you!” I wanted to shout and to scream.. “it was always you and your fault!” Yet maybe it wasn’t, for it’s just me here now, it’s just me here in the cave, I’m grateful you come down to visit me sometimes. But it’s just me again, me again right? Just me and me and me and me and me and me and it’ll run me mad if I continue on with this kind of thing. This repression and this regression and this pulling the strings back and then putting it all back together, what is it that you would like to say? What is it that you would really like to know?

How do I do it? How do I love myself and others and unlock myself from the self inflicted prison of the mind.

“Watch out, watch out, watch out, watch out”

And just let go.