The SoulFULL Archeology of a Natural Born BEDOUIN!!!!

 A peaceful DAY is a beautiful thing!  I just remembered Shayla told me that I was after, SOLACE.  TRUE STORY!  I needed to hear MYSELF think.  HOLY SHIZNIT!!!

 I woke up, after sleeping bout six hours straight!!! MAJOR SCORE!!  I straightened up, took a shower, put on some eyeliner etc, and FELL my ass back to sleep, how wonderful is that? Sniggle!   With all of the hustle and bustle lately, sleep is a well received and appreciated guest. 

My eyes opened an hour or two later and I found myself thinking about a topic a siSTAR had brought to my attention.  Picking clothing that reflects our inner GODDESS and fertile terrain.  HOW we FEEL may be reflected in the things we wear or choose not to wear.  Shit, there are messages everywhere if we LISTEN.  Yup seemingly light topic <smiles> and as I had JUST finished listening to week 12 of the telecourse it was perfect place to stop and BE. Basically, a huge message for me was:   all soul work and no passion play makes for a grumpy siSTAR.  

My soul needed a ‘lighter’ topic today.  I’m tired and rightfully so!

Soooo clothes…  I corporate dressed at 18, having been hired as a bank teller for Manufacturers Hanover Trust and training in the World Trade Center, followed by various business jobs on Madison and Park Ave.  I was not then and never will be a PANTYHOSE woman.  NUH UH.  Pfft.  I remember going on an interview and ripping the stockings (literally TORE the crotch right off from under my skirt) off in the elevator.    YUP, as my youngest daughter says “the struggle was real” lol

I know I LOVE being in workout clothes, well cuz before I injured my knee, I was constantly working out, but when I’m not …what DO I like to wear.  So I started paying attention to what calls to my spirit, and I am not really a fashion follower.  I likes what I likes.  I love LOVE LOVE raggedy ass looking jeans.. ripped all over the place … I just do.  I love lacy, loose, tanks.. I didn’t know this shit had a name??? Bohemian?  Okay.  But I was not a fan of the 70’s.  THEN it turns out after some research on my PHONE today (damn I have seriously realized how FORTUNATE we are.. I consider lack of internet to be a first world problem .. really)  Authentic bohemian … is gypsy wear… real gypsy wear.  AHH haa.. yup that’s me <eyebrow shoots straight up into my hairline> lol   that’s been me FOREVER.  Rocking my momma’s mantillas round’ my waist, the dark velvets, lace… torn jeans and my SWAT boots.  No not my school ‘SWAT’ boots…. my literal SWAT boots.. LOVE THOSE BADASSES.  (the ultimate compliment from my son was that when the zombie apocolypise comes.. my boots are going to be in high demand… ) what can I say..  DEY are sexy as hell to me. 

So what the hell does my clothing style have to do with Breaking Chains???

I dressed myself for so long according to what I THOUGHT would make me acceptable AND able TO FIT in.  Now I realize that I’m taking care of my BODY so it feels the BEST it can be, and I dress for what accentuates my SPIRIT.  Oh my.  That’s just straight up sexy.  Being myself.

 #doingAtiredassHAPPYdance!!!! Lol

I have felt bloated AGAIN.  (duh, Shanti, if you always do whatcha always have, you will always have what you’ve always had)… REALLY bloated.. I had gotten that taken care of before I left Taunton… then all it took was ONE perceived negative conversation and I ALLOWED it to shake up the shit,  when in actuality it meant NOTHING about me.  Talk about taking crap personal eh? 

SOOO grateful because there was the red blinking arrow showing me where work needs/needed to be done.  I’m doing the work… cuz I’m still fucking human.  

HA!  I NEVER go down to the shame level anymore… FUCK THAT NOISE.  I’ve accepted that I’m perfectly imperfect and I realize as my fingers are flying across the k eyboard RIGHT NOW, that I like to FEEL a certain way.  I FELT IT the day BEFORE I left Taunton. I felt CLEAN…  light, energized.. AHH HAAA.. the difference is NOW I get it, how to SUSTAIN my success. Ahhhhhh whooo hoooo ..

So .. I like what’s I like.  I’m a gypsy woman.  (I can hear Santana playing in my head) I’ve ALWAYS known I was a black magic woman… lol in truth, guess it took a few years for me to REMEMBER.  Thank you Karishma, you are such a BADASS siSTAR.  

yo soy una bailarena de fuego

Once upon a time there was a little girl who stood out.  She was a red flower in a sea of yellow, and she hated it.  She wanted nothing more than to be yellow with the rest of the flowers.  She did everything she could to be like the other flowers.  She bleached her petals; she cut some of her most vibrant blossoms off, dulling her fragrance with anything and everything not to be conspicuous, in any way.  After huge trial and error, she found that if she could just forget her own radiant red, and convince herself that she was just plain yellow, that would be what all the other flowers would see.  She knew that somehow she still didn't fit in perfectly, but the little ‘orange toned’ (still red but covered with giant yellow ink blots) flower didn't care.  To fit in slightly was better than standing all alone in her spendiferious but lonely glory.  

I never fit… anywhere, and became quite proficient at blending myself into the background.  I lowered my laugh, never showcased my gray matter, always let other’s shine, because I didn't want to blind anyone.  I knew I was ‘too’ much.  I had always been told I was ‘too’ much, and I believed it. 

My aunt, no matter how complicated our relationship, (we were more like sisters than aunt and niece) always ‘set’ store by my courageous (and insane) behavior.   It was always a double edged sword… she would tell me … "you are fucking crazy, I wish I was like you”.  I mean literally, I’d have to say a good 30 years of hearing that.  I didn’t quite understand it at first.  I thought she had it ‘better’… isn’t that the way it always goes, especially WITHOUT communication.   Darsh and I ran away together for the first time when she was 13 and I was 11, our parents were in Hawaii, and it was the foundation for both our even closer bond AND the families already tenuous at best, regard for me.....after that she choose to stay at home and 'deal' and I chose to leave and 'live' ... so she played it safe, and I played it crazy.  

About 2 years before she died, I went into her room and said… sooo I’ve been thinking about red lipstick, she said..what??? what.. she got up rather quickly and started rummaging through her things.  WTF???  She pulls out a red lipstick, a red shirt and a black bra.  She hated my wearing sports bras.  LOL  I’m looking at this explosion of red and started to shake my head no..  she plunked me down, and started rearranging… next thing I know, I’m looking very vibrant and feeling quite uncomfie, but smiling at Darsh, realizing how happy she was just for bringing out my red vixen.  

I kept the lipstick but HARDLY ever wore it, I always keep/kept the things that loved one’s give me, no matter if I liked it or not, had a use for it or not, just because I treasure love.  So I waked around with that lipstick for the last four years.  Yup, for my daughter Gracie’s baby shower, I really had no idea what to wear, so I decided on kid friendly and sassy. Wore red, pulled that red lipstick out of my make up case and knew, by scent, it’s going bad.  <Makeup does go bad yanno>  and thought, I am NOT throwing it away.  I will keep it, because as I looked at my pictures from the baby shower, ironically standing next to my cousin who reminds me of a strong male Darsh, I loved MYSELF in red.  I really did.  Like woman with that silver mountaintop, you are looking quite delish with that red on… blink blink.. yea really?? 

I’ve grown into my red.  I AM UNIQUE.  Not trying to blend.  I LIKE standing out and being different.  I am honored by my very existence.   SunFire is my native name, given to me in 94, I didn’t like it, I used moonfyre, instead... but, somehow it never felt like mine, so changed it back to SunFire recently.  

I’m okay with who I really am.  Imperfections, absurdities, mistakes and all… I am ME and I wouldn’t have it any other way.  I love my boot wearing, sometimes swearing, silver tresses curling, butterfly wings unfurling, perfectly imperfect self!  There is no destination, it’s about the journey.  My aunt knew I was that red flower.. SHE knew and she loved bright colors.. ohhhhhhhhhhhh wow.. I get it, get it… she wanted to be a red flower.  Awww she was.. she just bought into the crap too.  Thought it was better to fit in.  No, I understand now, that complacency is akin to waiting to die for me now.  I have to go LIVE. 

It’s time…

I am a fire dancer... 

This Dakini is rising!  

"The color red is the color of energy, passion and action

This color is a warm and positive color associated with our most physical needs and our will to survive. It exudes a strong and powerful masculine energy.

Red is energizing. It excites the emotions and motivates us to take action.

It signifies a pioneering spirit and leadership qualities, promoting ambition and determination. It is also strong-willed and can give confidence to those who are shy or lacking in will power."

Quoted from:  http://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/color-red.html

Shakti's Soul Strokes

Gift One:Okay.. sooo I made MYSELF a bomb ass healthy meal… OMG .. tongastic… I took sweet potato fries and French style string beans, tossed with olive oil, Mrs. Dash spicy and garlic.. bake 400, bout 15 .. and holy shiznola. .anyway,  that with a turkey/veggie burger <that I made. it was a Gina Aliotti recipe>,  with an egg on it… now dat’s a ‘spoil your date’ meal.   I used to do this for my significant other’s.. why not myself first??   Of course, the “damn you’re a narcissist” thought came by… I just chose to let it keep going.  I adore/d the divine in myself today.  WE are so freakin worth this!!!  

Gift Two of this “date” Shanti day…  I just had the most sacred experience with dance and movement in la LONG time… I knew that shit was gonna hit and this was gonna turn into a musical, lmao.. but if I’m paying homage to my Shakti, gotta go with these impulses and I did…. Holy shit the sheer fucking of joy of this experience… I’m able to feel my muscles and use them…. And use them, I did… no heavy breathing.. WARM but not sweating… I dancing my arse off.. fo sho.. omg.. wide ass open <raw to the soul> to source.. <grins> now that shit is the yummy num nums. 

Wanna dance??? I saw this the other day, and REMEMBERED.. oh yes…
https://www.facebook.com/photo.php?v=10152533251348906&set=vb.591983905&type=2&theater

Gift Three: 
(brought my  beloved date gifts --- lastic .. a stretch working, buti yoga and a book..guess the universe was so happy that I was embracing my own divinity, I got the book free, … gotta love the journey) …

Gift Four:

While preparing my own music list for this day, I literally FELT my way toward a list… if it make me tingle it got added, if not.. nah.  So I just chose “The Greasted Love of All” without even thinking of the lyrics,  made me think of Whitney and all I could focus on was/is beautiful voice.  Her voice to spirit was her sacred self, where she connected with her own divinity.  Nothing else matters.  Wow.. the rest is superfluous … dayum…. It’s all a part of us and THE story.  IT IS however; at the place where we connect with God/dess, that we are perfect <still wrapped in perfectly imperfect humanity> .  While listening to Ms. Whitney .. how she DID express her passion… that’s all that matters.. wow.. level up.. damn almost wanna cry, listening to her passion about self-love.. onward and upward with this day.. 

Song of the day: for my most sacred union with my Shakti energy…

"Til The Casket Drops" by ZZ Ward

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l4M3qQgXous

It was the coldest night of the year,

Snow-covered street lamps and Belvedere,

The moon was just a sliver,

The light was fading,

The war was on its way,

And we were waiting,

You asked me how long I'd stay by (MY)  side,

So I answered with only just one reply,

Till the casket drops,

Till my dying day,

Till my heartbeat stops,

Till my legs just break,

Whoa, oh, whoa,

whoa, whoa, oh,

Whoa, whoa, oh,

Till the casket drops,

A house made out of glass will surely shatter,

So we built a fortress of red bricks and ladders,

The ground, it started shaking,

The bombs are falling,

We could've walked away,

We had a warning,

You asked me how long I'd stay by your side,

So I answered with only just one reply,

Till the casket drops,

Till my dying day,

Till my heartbeat stops,

Till my legs just break,

Whoa, oh, whoa,

whoa, whoa, oh,

Whoa, whoa, oh,

Till the casket drops,

So lay your burden down, baby,

Lead me out the door,

We can't escape this ricochet,

I'm ready for this war,

So lay your burden down, baby,

Lead me out the door,

We can't escape this ricochet,

I'm ready for this war,

Till the casket drops,

Till my dying day,

Till my heartbeat stops,

Till my legs just break,

Till the casket drops,

Till my dying day,

Till my heartbeat stops,

Till my legs just break,

Whoa, oh, whoa,

whoa, whoa, oh,

Whoa, whoa, oh,

Till the casket drops.

well, cuz that’s the way I feel for myself/source.. I will keep going ‘till the casket drops’….

3:26
*****Finshed the playlist for mah awakening Shakti .. clicked on shuffle… and got “I’m every woman” by Ms. Houston herself.  .. Shakti making a statement??? Jus sayin!  …. Feel like a damn lotus blossoming.. I’m getting this. Huge SMILE!! 

Why Shakti Energy:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XXDz_BDoOt0  

The meditation I did:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5JYueTqWmyo

As for the rest, stay tuned… I don’t kiss and facebook, I respect myself WAY too much!!!  (grins)

Kundalini rising!

So following a few amazing epiphanies and a couple of synchronistic “sheetuations” (said with a very Brooklyn accent), I decided I had to write, so I walked around the house to see, who was out and about…yup, at work and sleeping.. whoo hoo the house was completely mine… whut??.. ya mean I could pretend.. feel ‘as if’, behave exactly how I would if I was already home (my home, my space)… I know my rescue somewhere is on his journey towards me, it is as it’s supposed to be, I can act as if....

I ‘got giddy’, I jogged into my room and dropped trough, grabbing all my num num body products and my Ipad for music…. I danced my way to the bathroom, as I waited for the water to heat up, listening to zz ward’s move like you stole it, I was dancing my ass off, I was just me, spirit, limitedless, and the thing is I’ve always been a great dancer.. I feel music… always have, stems from being home as a child, a latchkey kid, listening to my dad’s massive record collection … and was it ever eclectic, thank you daddy.  I danced ballet and auditioned for the American Ballet Corp at Lincoln Center, but was told, I didn’t have the right instep for long hours en’ pointe.  Heartbroken <oh yea I was>  I fancied myself the reincarnation of Anna Pavlova, and read everything I could about her.  

Then the fire was rekindled and of course I succumbed to the primal pull of that particular alignment of divine and danced again, in any way I could... club scene mid 80’s in the NYC that’s all I’m sayin, 

Anyway, today I danced in the bathroom waiting for the shower to heat up, and I danced for me, and there is a large oval mirror over the sink…the steam started rising <from the shower…from the shower> and I smiled at me… realizing that it indeed is ME, that forever has my back.  It is so freaking true, “And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”― Friedrich Nietzsche…   

There’s a reason for that .. they cannot hear it.. LOL so they are seeing us making all these moves they don’t understand.  Ahhhhl…. To them it may seem odd and make no sense.

And I danced for the ‘joy’ in the now, really dancing with/ in and feeling in sync with the light… my muscles were loosened and some of the pain released.. yay.. it was beautiful, divine, natural medicine, and I’m grateful I ‘get it’ now.  Be in the moment, just be… feel it, yup no matter what it feels like, don’t run from it… it’s your life, and it’s a divine expression of you.  Fall back in the unknowing, release those fears… the soul trembles with the ecstasy of ‘what the hell is THAT?’ KUNDALINI energy, yup…  ohhhh…

------------------>  I feel  Kundalini RISING!!!!

‘He’s’ headed my way… LOL he’s gotta feel that .. <my twin flame/soulmate… yay, my wolfmate… ya get the gist> it’s all where it’s supposed to be. I really love life.  My heart/soul/mind/being is open to the constant ebb and flow of life’s changes… yup it’s all an adventure.  I choose and it is DE “LIGHT” FUL!  

Shhhh, life is speaking!

“Once upon a time, there was a woman who had sight but could not see.  She had ears but could not hear, had a mouth but had no voice.  She gave up her rights, magic, hopes and choices, in order to be accepted, noticed, heard…seen and loved.   She would gaze out into space longingly, praying to be rescued.  She thought the world was against her, and that she was part of a cosmic joke, the entertainment of a cruel deity.  Now and then there were bursts of light in the darkness of the abyss… she would follow the light hungrily, clutching at it, grasping so tightly she always snuffed out the flame. 

The tunnels of the abyss were long, twisting, darkly shadowed, slimy, dank, and scary.  In order to not stay perpetually terrified, to mask those sensations she distracted herself with any and everything she could.  Innately she knew, without knowing how, that there was light to be had, but had no clue as to its source.  She knew that she longed for love, acceptance, approval, and knew not how to get it.”

Three birthday’s ago <this year will be four> one of my best friends, Eddie, gave me silver bear earrings, and told me that it was very special FOR ME, and that it had a magical meaning.  I was so grateful cuz well Eddie was <he passed last year while I was in Puerto Rico> such a magical light, a pure being, that when he did anything, all you could feel was HIS love, didn’t matter what it was. Had he handed me a pile of dirt and told me that it was special for me, I’d kept it <true story>.  Well he gave me these earrings, and because they were from him and his love, they were special.  I didn’t think they were the most gorgeous things I’d ever seen <true story> but nevertheless I kept them cuz of what they meant.  I looked online and researched with all my might but nufin.  Sokay.  I kept them anyway OF COURSE.

One year later on my birthday, with a spiritual siSTAR, far away from Eddie, I was gifted <I am one lucky dakini> with being able to record  <albeit it’s a dark moving shadow on video> a BABY brown bear in the middle of the national forest from the passenger seat of a car, after sighting it.. while we were moving around the curving roads.  This beautiful lil guy/or gyal was moving quickly down a tree.. wow.  Not too much later I was told by a Maggie Valley native that… ‘things like that mean something, that doesn’t happen much round here’ 

Shanti's BABY brown BEAR

Third year on my birthday…. I decided to gift myself with an essence portrait, and as Lisa began painting what 2000 miles or more away, just <pfft JUST> our voices and spirits connecting… I heard an exclamation of surprise in her voice as she said ummm copper?  I really was expecting a regular essence  painting.  (Check out her link, you’ll see what I mean)…. Fairie, pixie or angel colors.. yanno the good good.  <grins>  nope.. not me.. COPPER, turquoise and.. umm.. ready??? MY BEAR?  Three years on three birthdays.  YUP.   Soooooooooooooooooooooooooo  I got to studying… of course, cuz that’s who I am. 

Lisa's AMAZING work!

Lo and behold, at that moment…  the triquerta of bears came rushing into my memory and I started hunting for my earrings, the ones that Eddie gave me,  looking frantically for the video of the baby bear, tripping over myself in my eagerness to understand.  I found ONE earring.  I was so ticked off at myself, but then I understood.  (laughs softly)  I wouldn’t have worn them every day as earrings… it’s true.  I’d lost them… or left in studs.. I’m kindof practical with my ears.  Light sleeper that I am, I always feel the pressure of earrings.  If I don’t leave them in all the time, I’d prolly lose them.  I had the one earring made THAT day into a charm and put it on my bracelet… it hasn’t left my wrist since my birthday.  My essence painting hangs on the wall to the right of my bed.

Day before yesterday I saw that Lisa did another beautiful essence painting… and I looked at it and thought … what the fuck???? I immediately messaged her….  Ummm even in our soulpod, I stand apart eh???  She typed back one word… ‘yup’… SMH. 

Today:  (drumroll please) I was mulling… and a very special siSTAR, hit me up and said did I still want to vent… I said.. (call me at 86753099999)… hell to the ya, and she did.. and she listened..and and… AND… she recommended that I watch a video..which I did on the ARC.. MOUTH HANGING OPEN, shaking my head.  THANK GOD/DESS I sweat buckets on that machine, cuz NO-one could see I was crying IN WONDER.  Ummm really… I’m an alchemist??? Really?? Truly…. Fucking copper???? IT ALL MADE SENSE.. PINS AND TUMBLERS ALL SLID INTO PLACE. HOLY FUCK I GOT IT.. BY GEORGE I THINK SHE’S GOT IT…..

She has eyes but sees with her soul

she uses her voice to sooth not cajole

her hearing now tuned to inside

she HAS BREAKIN FREE and will NO LONGER HIDE!!!!

Of course there is more to the story… but really did you want me to write a book??????

Did I mention I fucking LOVE life???

Thank you Eddie, Lisa, Margie, Christine..and every single person who is reading this, and who is impacting my life by simply BEing...

shhhhh... Life is Speaking, butcha gotta listen!!! 

Merry Xmas -- I still believe! (December 17, 2010 at 2:43am)

When I was a little girl, Christmas held the promise of being magical. No matter how splendiferous the promise of goosebumps and potential, Christmas always paid her tab. It didn't matter that I still felt alone, it didn't matter that my parents argued, or that I could see sadness in their eyes, it only mattered that Christmas was magical. 

My dad or mom would get me from home and bring me to city to pick up the other parent, and we’d walk from Rockefeller Center to 34th street and sometimes back. We never went ice skating in front of the majestic tree, we didn’t hold hands or give each other hugs and kisses, that didn’t matter either. As I stared at all the window displays with their images of joyful revelry, it was enough. It was enough to know that someone dreamt of such magic, and the joy was evident in the faces of the workshop elves, the Santa’s ringing their bells, the scent of the chestnuts roasting on an open fire (literally), in people holding the doors open for each other, in (unusual for NY) kindnesses. There was something different in the air; it was the promise of all the good in the world. It was the hush that fell across the streets.



As children, before our dreams were challenged and discouraged, we believed, we had faith that the best would happen, we knew that we were worth the magic… that is the spirit of Christmas. It isn’t whether you believe that it is Jesus’s birthday or not, it is enough that such a loving man once walked the earth and was the change he wanted, it is enough that Saint Nick a Christian Bishop gave to those who had less, who needed a little something more.

It’s not about money, not about presents, not about a tree.. .. it is about our hearts, the magic contained therein, the hope of possibility. If I am lonely I will go and give of myself to those less fortunate and find love within the eyes of those I can touch by service. If I am without family I will go to a homeless shelter and hold a child. It is not how many presents are under a tree that defines Christmas, but the love, hope, and giving spirit that resides in one’s heart. Christmas is a season when many hearts are burdened by sadness, loneliness and depression due to family circumstances, choices, memories, etc… why not let it be a time for refreshing the childlike spirit locked away behind the doors so willing to open and once again step into the magical land of possibility. Maybe it is not what we see, but how we perceive what we see through our kaleidoscope of spirit. I still believe.

Love and light and THE MAGIC of Christmas! <3 none of us are alone! <3

Dear Darshini

It has been 580 days since you left this plane of existence and it still feels weird that I cannot pick up the phone and talk to you. There have been so many changes in LIFE since you left, and although I know in my heart of hearts you are soaring with magnificent, opalescent butterflies, I know that some piece of you is still here in me, in your girls, experiencing life with your loved ones. . I never thought there would be a day that there was no ‘us’.



There was an ‘us’ for as long as I can remember. We had such a love/hate relationship, which is usually reserved for sisters, but without a doubt you were my ‘elder’ in so many ways. You experienced loss first, and that is more powerful than the elements, with its smoothing and resurfacing capabilities. Loss was a stranger to me, I had never said goodbye to someone so important to me before.

In the shower about an hour ago, I thought of my eventual demise, and how those who love me will fare with the passing of my soul to the infinite. It will happen as it must, and I truly understand the circle of life now. How does anyone feel when losing a loved one? People go through this and so much more every day. We are a race of survival. We are built to continue …. for the painful memories to recede from the excruciating forefront of one’s mind. I never thought I’d stop crying.



Your departure left a vacuum that I have chosen to fill with authentic life… it taught me so much. I will not ‘waste’ a moment, they are far too precious… really and truly never thought there would be time on this gorgeous blue rock without you… and yet, so many things you said to me now resonate deeply. Although you thought I was batshit crazy for many of my wandering ways, you would always temper the incredulousness with sentiments of pride and go on about my courage, wishing you had it. YOU DID … you made it through Taj’s and grandmother’s death. I am sorry I had no idea what pain you were in.



All those years, making do with life, when you were done, you held on for your girls… you held on when you could find no more meaning in life. You told me, you tried… my thick skull would not comprehend that the pain had left such a hole in you, that losing the girls was it, the final straw. I understand now. I do, because unless I had taken the journey back TO my own core and found my own value, I might too have chosen to be done.


Thank you for loving me so completely, I’ve realized just how much our relationship meant to me, and how fortunate I was to have a ‘guardian’ … I guess when we met, you at age two, and me a couple months old, we imprinted… that bond was MASSIVE.

I miss you, although I can feel you and still talk to you. There is so much about this journey I would share with you, crazy thing is, you wouldn’t get it until you were where you are, and unfortunately well .. <smiles> you get that right?

We were supposed to be in two rocking chairs one day… and I’m holding you to that, just gonna have to be surrounding with the splendiferous view of the afterlife, tucked lovingly in Source’s arms.



I am brave, you were right. I understand now why you said you had to go first. I didn’t get it at the time, but I do now. I love you so much, and I can say that for really now, cuz I love me first. Thank you for having those girls, do you know how much this is all wind beneath my wings???

I can only speak for self when I say your life was lived well, and I will NEVER forget you… how could I … every time I pick out a dark color to wear, I see you roll your eyes…. Every time I wear red lipstick and I see that happy smile… 

You will always be my number one peep <yup still have it>

Always….
Your baby….

Shanti's Mantra!

I AM...

embracing and reveling in the birthing of my previously dormant athlete, no longer restrained, the petals of my exotically transcendent soul blossoming in intense and blissful self-awareness as I am enveloped in an intimate, primally abundant love affair with self/soul.  I AM both the leader and follower of this deliciously intimate and sexual tango with self/source, recognizing and owning that my celebration of discipline forges a clear and powerful ally with my soul's reemergence into the glory of self-reliance..

11/25/2013

Shanti Shaharazade 

this gyal on fyah!! <Caribbean Accent>

RIP Darsh.... the dots that connect... May 16, 2012 at 3:37am (REMINDER TO MYSELF)

There was a time when I looked at challenges as ominous monsters prepared to consume me. My heart raced, adrenaline flooded my bloodstream, sweat poured from my skin…and I imagined the worst case scenarios, however; now thanks to learning (through painful lessons of course) and utilizing tools I am studying and putting into practice, gleaned from various sources, I saw a quote that succinctly describes my status now… and that is… “An arrow can be shot only by pulling it backward. So when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that it’s going to launch you into something great.” This is a hell of a pull backward. I cannot lie. Losing my aunt is more painful than I could ever imagine. This beautiful blue vibrant planet was only made more so by her existence which has now changed back to its original state. Yes I am happy for her… no more pain, no more leg braces, no more separation from my uncle and grandmother. I get it I do, but the ones left behind can only celebrate and GROW through the pain.



Darsh and Korin

I am learning how to see the dots of connection though, retrospectively looking at the last year and all the things that happened. I left New York to come help with my two little cousins, while Darsh (my aunt) was recuperating from screwing up her knee from a bad fall. She had Guillain-Barre syndrome as a child, and had extreme ankle and foot pain from that and diabetes, so falling for her was that much more detrimental. She had to go to a rehabilitation center, so I was home with the children and my uncle. We had beach trips, trips to see my aunt, more beach trips, a lot of love, some tears (the wee one had never been separated from her mom), we had challenges, dance parties, etc. We took Darsh (my aunt) on day trips, and had BBQ’s over the house of the man I would soon call my partner, and that would become my home. She tried for three years to get us together; neither of us was initially interested in each other based on our first meeting. She persisted over the years, and we became a couple ten months before she died.

At her funeral, lost cousins found each other; tears were shed for the years not spent together, phone number and emails exchanged. The much older generation found themselves staring at faces they had only seen as babies. Cleansing tears were shed, hands were held, and bonds were reborn. Cars were piled into, homes were shared, mattresses dragged onto floors, and we made it through the cremation the next day.


8/11

I personally got to reunite with my three little cousins, Gabby, Alicia and Amanda. I am so blessed by these ‘super’women. I feel as though three amazing souls have joined my ‘nest’.I loved meeting Damien my lil cousin who promptly told me at five about a dinosaur that roamed the earth 65 billion years ago? (I think that’s right, lol) my kids, my little cousins, my mom and I laughed so hard I think we broke or at least strained muscles those two nights. I knew Darsh was there and I knew she was laughing uproariously with us all the way. We celebrated her life the way she loved to live her life…WITH passion!!!!


8/11

I see the dots that connect… if Darsh hadn’t hurt her knee; I would never have come here, spent precious time with my cousins Kelsey and Korin, or have been with Terrence, I would never have reunited so deeply with my aunt. We became sisters in truth once again. I am so grateful that I got that extra time. That I came. That we loved each other since we first met. I was 3 months old, she was 2, it was Guyana, SA., and our friendship had begun. It will continue, I will always talk to her, feel her, know she’s standing by my side.There is no forgetting, the tapestries of our lives have been interwoven so tightly, that I will sigh, maybe cry and resign myself to wait until I too cross back over to Source to sit in that rocking chair with my aunt. Oh Darsh you are so missed, I know you saw the love, light, and clarification that came when you passed. You already know the pain we all feel. I miss you so much, and it’s so much harder now that I’m home and not distracted by the amazing young women in our family.

I miss you baby, your life was not wasted… I will walk my talk, and always love me enough to stay sharp for your daughters as well as all the young ones in our family.


kelsey beaming summer 11

So life pull me back… cuz I know you’re going to shoot this arrow directly into pure authenticity and vibrancy, it will all be paid forward… onward and upward … I am ready to fly!


Shanny and Korinny

Acts of Worship (what shapes a superwoman) Part I June 20, 2010 at 10:24pm

The other night as I couldn't sleep, I perused Netflix to find a movie that I felt like watching. Acts of Worship’s little blurb held my attention - an indie drama set in NYC’s lower east side and thought VOILA!! Alphabet city, one of my old haunts, I didn’t take the time to read the reviews, just forged ahead into the movie. What a movie it was/is…at first I just watched the pavements I had pounded cross the screen, then as I was pulled into Alix’s world, my heart was torn asunder by the trials and tribulations of the her life on the streets which reminded me so much of myself, it tore the layers of my soul wide open, exposing the sensitive nerves. I went back in time, reviewing the movie and thinking of my life, watching it through the eyes of a different person, the woman I have evolved into, as opposed to the eyes and heart of a young wounded child. Since I have watched that movie, I have cried, sobbed, introverted and am fighting to find the lesson on this leg of my journey. Did I really conquer all of those obstacles with only the assistance of Great Spirit and gentle angels along the way? Did I really stop drugs cold turkey, was I really the girl who almost overdosed when I was 17. I watched Alix smoke pain pills in a stem and had forgotten the name of the name of paraphernalia. I had stepped away from it all; I didn’t remember that you could burn your fingers from holding a stem. I had forgotten the lingo… two Loosies, a screen, and a stem. It all rushed back to me, overtaking my emotions, submerging me deep in the past. The past is said to be useful and instrumental for learning. What am I supposed to learn from remembering? Am I to understand how far I’ve come, and how hard I can be on myself because I’ve never valued money? I’ve always gauged my success on the fact that I walked away from that life without looking back, so successfully in fact the memories didn’t surface until I watched the movie. Was it wrong of me to forget, or am I to be doing more in this world, paying my lessons forward.




I thought by having my children, and raising them to honor their own lives and cherish each other no matter what obstacles we faced, it was enough. Well maybe not enough but a damn good start. It was surreal to listen to Alix’s words… ‘ I would do anything to stop the pain, anything to ease the big gaping hole inside’ I used to feel that way, I used to be that person, I knew the streets the way a coach potato knows the fall lineup, I knew where to go to get clothes, where to get food, the meet up spot for my group, who was in lock up, who was in what group home, and I knew with all certainty that no matter how long anyone in the group managed to spend in one place, we could always see a familiar face on the doo-wop (42th street and 8th avenue), I knew which one of my friends were working the streets, and Goddess, Great Spirit be blessed, I never succumbed to that life for easy money, I looked enough like everyone’s little sister that I was always given free drugs, an every now and then bed, but looking like everyone’s little sister didn’t prevent the predators from getting their hands on me. It seems like another life, as I sit here and type this, it feels as though I am writing this about someone else, and yet I know it’s me. I am that little girl. She has found her home inside me. I know no matter WHAT happens, all the trivial crap that goes on in life CANNOT break me. I think I’m the last one of my group alive. That makes me sad, and makes me want to help young people who think that all adults don’t understand. I understand. I know what’s its like. I’m sure I will write more about this, I haven’t purged it all, so I’ll call this part one. This is dedicated to the kids at under 21/Covenant House, The Door, Bushwick home for Girls, Mt. Loretta (in Staten Island), to April, Harry, Cookie, Gabriel (RIP), Connie, Crazy, Danny (I’ve looked for you hunnie xoxo), Traci (I love you), Officer Joseph Gonzolez, of the Port Authority Youth Division… I’m STILL HERE GONZI...xoxoxo some people stay in your heart forever no matter where they are, and I will keep on loving and living while I have breath and will NEVER GIVE UP. I am GRATEFUL FOR LIFE, because I almost didn’t make it.