Blossoming into MY highest expression!!!!

“Mom, you were the angriest, bitterest person I knew”

My mouth fell open a little bit.  Me?  Really?  Seriously?  Thinking damn, this boy has MET a lot of angry people and I WAS at the top of that list.  Then the yummy num nums slipped in quickly and I realized how MUCH I have changed.  I recognized how HURT, bitter, angry, I truly was.  I use to SEETHE on a constant basis.  I didn’t understand why the world seemed to be pitching fast balls at my face.  Why wouldn’t SOMEONE see my pain?  Was I invisible?  FUCK!!!!  I EXPECTED everyone to fix the situation.  I wanted my mom and dad to recognize what had happened, I wanted my little sister to bitchslap the lot of them and say..UMMM do you not see you are hurting her??  I wanted my ex-husband to don the armor and slay the damn dragon.  (PRESSURE much?)  I wanted the love of my children to save me… I grasped at love like a woman in quicksand, crushing the delicate petals in my desperate attempt to breathe.  I wore my rage as a protective, outward spike studded mantle of protection against the world, not realizing I was stabbing my loved ones with my palpable pain. 

I wasn’t always that way, as a young girl I lived in the moors of my own fantasy world which resplendent with the most brilliant, fragrant flowers was my heart’s terrain.  Fairies, pixies, brownies and sprites were abundant and free, roaming this land of my creation.  Majestic, grandfatherly trees dotted the landscape and were welcoming with their huge sturdy branches poised to embrace my books and I.  I of course was the fairest in the land <smiles> and the animals were my best friends.  That’s where I lived once upon a time.  Then I lost my way, I found myself in the brambles of my own despair, and I abandoned hope and closed my heart.  

During my years in the abyss, I kept reaching for the light, I did.  I knew that although I was covered in slick, oily, dense darkness of despair, I was still a creature belonging to Source.  I recognized that in my heart of hearts, I just didn’t have any idea how to go about reclaiming the brilliance with which I once viewed everything… but then…

And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.  (Anais Nin)

and blossom I did… as a matter of fact <just realized> that is what this leg of my journey is called… “Blossoming” …  Didn’t even have that in my mind as I sat down to write how far I’ve come since that angry, bitter, hurt, woman I USED to be.  

‘used to be’ was such the gift in that statement...… yea.  Thank you RJ!!!

the mofo 'waiting room'

"We judge that which is reflected in others, that we have not worked through and accepted in ourselves."

More raw and open than ever before, I get this on such a soulular level now.  I am much more observational and less reactionary, when I maintain my necessary level of self-love, otherwise I’m liable to become unintentionally but noticeably snarky.   

I realized today on the phone with my bubby, how far we've come by simply putting one step in front of another.  Jen literally went back and found our very first conversation, holy shiznit...  what growth, courage and tenacity during 18 months of deep, painstaking work, shedding layer after layer of protective tissues, facades, walls, barriers, bullshit and the propensity for dramatic hyperbole.   (what?!?!?!?!  what you say, you don’t have a BUBBY???  You ought to remedy that at your earliest convenience, an absolute must on this, my personal road less traveled)

Stubby and Bubby were born one day on Skype as we very exhaustedly tried to describe without our usual grasp on the English language, how it felt to be remarkably bipolaresque on this archaeological dig into our authenticity.  Literally Bubby threw up two hands in sock puppet fashion and of course I saw MUPPETS, and thus they/we were born. (MUCH more on that story later)

So after serious rumination, trying always to understand, I realized that MOST of life occurs in the mofo WAITING room.  That’s the shit right there… that pulsating, annoying thing that’s been driving me crazy for years.  IT’s ALL about what we do while we WAIT.  That’s where REAL LIFE happens, it’s the skill with which we navigate through the lulls that can make us or break us.  I call it the ‘waiting room’ … magazines, reality TV, trashy books??? What does it for you?  I've learnt that if I can just get to the Divine “Pier One” and decorate that bad boy, life is so much easier.  When I stay in the is’ness’ and relinquish the expectation of flow and surrender to the eventuality of life’s magical progression, it’s all amazing.  When I focus on what next… umm when is it coming? What’s going on?  What’s happening? I gotta what?  I’m moving where?  Who ..what.. when… how???.... how??? … how???¸ I can go a lil batshit crazy.  

So I surrendered.   I did, and I make that choice over and over again every day, and will continue to as much as it is warranted.   I’m never going to lie to anyone and say this shit is easy.   NOT HAPPENING.  There are magical moments, the one’s that take your breath away with such beauty, your heart just breaks right open in awe, and then there are the moments where the pain is so fucking intense ya feel like banging your head into a wall over and over again (I’m so seeing stubby and bubby right now… looking like Animal smashing his head on the piano) but the thing is, IT’S REAL.  NO bullshit, and why… why choose this road that’s actually called the less traveled one, I mean we cannot claim false advertising, can we?  BECAUSE those moments, those HOLY SHIT, THAT FELT AMAZING are so worth the rest of it, and if we keep going, a momentum builds and we become one with our own source energy … that’s where the magic happens. 

Yesterday Denae and I went to see Maleficient, which she knew I’d been jonsing to see, Angelina is so my woman crush for SO many reasons.. pfft.. I was NOT expecting to bawl like a five year old, and quite honestly was thinking to myself.. WTF, Shanti, can’t you JUST ENJOY THE GAWDDAMN movie?? Then I realized that those were not my words, they were words that were said to me so much, there were recorded in my psyche, so I <the empowered woman> said, hmmm there’s good reasons to cry, this brought up alotta shit in you, with all of this bravery, journeying, shedding of old dynamics and primal life, it's showing you something and well … yanno it was.  

That little voice that speaks to you consistently, that little thread of knowing, it’s wise, it really is.  I’m listening to my inner god/dess, my connection to source, cuz there’s magic in the fucking waiting room. I’m painting that bad boy, throwing up some paintings, hammocks, incense and candles, because I truly believe if I find my happiness, joy and serenity there, in the not knowing, the surrender, the FREAKIN waiting room where self-love is imperative… then I got this shit... SELF LOVE is indeed,  the act (action) of loving God/dess.  Wow.  How much we've grown eh Bubby????

Soo more to come on the ‘adventures of Stubby and Bubby’ … Maleficent, and of course “The Waiting Room” … <eyeroll> lol 

Dedicated to Jen"Bubby" Taylor!  Yo... <eye to eye hand gesture> we got this... we do indeedy yes, mah sweetie!!!!  

Not all those who wander are lost!

I’m still in awe over daily epiphanies.  I read JRR Tolkins, LOTR when I was still  in single digits and have always loved this quote but never had it resonate on multilayers of my being before. 

Sometimes I just have to go back to the basics, when times and situations are exquisitely catastrophic in nature,  returning to the actions of our most innate primal being, allowing the feeling and healing to commence begets calmness in time.  

Leaving Taunton for the birth of my granddaughter Nyra, reuniting with my little cousins Shaharazade and Teresa, meeting their “Knight in Shining Armor” Tim, saying adieu once again, always a bittersweet affair, then 24 hours later, it was time for a reunion with my parents, one traveling from Puerto Rico, the other from Florida.  My son Rj hustling his arse between the airport, Taunton, Fall River and work, my youngest daughter Alanna becoming a lovingly reluctant family motel. 

Did I mention all this occurred not a full week after I left Taunton and that in less than three weeks I’m on my way to Dallas, and this is the most courage I’ve ever had in MY LIFE. 

Then…

The shiznit hit the fan leaving the entire family collectively gasping with hollow hearts.  BLINDSIDED!! Stunned we all continued putting one foot in front of the other… my dad returned to PR, my son retreating to safe distance and the rest of us still on the front lines.  Each of us struggling to make sense of life’s fantastically horrifying and soul stirring twists and turns. 

Tempers worn, nerves frayed, very little sleep and hardly time for self-care, I truly believe we carried on swimmingly, lotsa apologies, a few slammed doors but for the most part staying in the light as much as we were able.  

Mom left to join Dad in Puerto Rico and that was the straw that broke me wide open.  I find it so interesting how women in one family can ADORE each other so much from a distance, missing each other the moment they are not together and annoy the hell out of each other so much in person???  Family of origin triggers?  (shakes my head smiling) 

So there we were, the group dwindling, Alanna and I blinking like owls trying to make sense of THIS storm’s tempestuousness.  She retreated to her quiet place with Genesis…I made my way to my temporary bedroom and FELT.  That was some serious SOULstrip action going on.  RIPPPP!!!!! Smh… left that on way too long, I think it took a few layers of my heart, which at first felt horrible but it catapulted me a little faster through the dark tunnel towards the light of my own understanding.  OUCH.. but umm yea.. grateful. (eyeroll)

I had planned on getting inked for the anniversary of my aunt’s death.  (more about my aunt here:  My Aunt) I wanted to commemorate the eternal love and bond between my aunt and little cousins Kelsey and Korin.  My daughter told me about an amazing tattoo parlor, Heritage Ink so I stopped in and met Ashely, I could tell, like me, she too was divergent and her spirit sang of independence and light.  Yup, it felt right. I didn’t even shop around, it FELT right.  I’ve learned to pay attention to my feelings.  What my beautiful siSTAR Crystal called the internal GPS.  Made an appointment, and set about finding out exactly what I wanted.  Two K’s, one upper and one lower case to rep the wee cousins and freaking flowers for my aunt.  <SMH> Darsh has jokes.  I never actually liked flowers, until I ran into a lotus blossom, and suddenly after death… FREAKIN flowers are all I want to express my love for her.  WTF?? I know she’s laughing, I can feel it.  So above the original Darsh (tattoo)  I have on my right arm with heavy purple shading, her favorite color I now have the Maori symbol for “life gives and life takes away” with the K’s. 

... For ME, because well let’s face it.. ya gotta take care of yourself, I got a cute baby elephant, huge eyes.. holding a blue.. (yup Brandon) butterfly, and the Shakespearean quote “What’s past is prologue”

The blue butterfly references my miracle on the mountain in NC, and Brandon well, he just brought the whole thing together. I still get a heart squeeze when I think of that.  These mini yoda’s and tiny guru’s, I love learning from children!! 
(more about The Blue Butterfly, the miracle and Brandon here..)---Blue Butterfly and Brandon

I perused Ashley’s page, screen shooting some of the soul stirring quotes and checking out her work, becoming more and more excited to commemorate this resting place on, MY road less traveled.  siSTARS know siSTARS, and I was almost anxiously anticipating ‘me time’ the day after the anniversary of Darsh’s death, and needing to honor the love, sadness and the ISness of the journey.

For me, the conversation, connection and reflection speaking with another one of Lilith’s daughters (rising divergent goddesses) getting ink’d with all this hugely meaningful testimonies and markers for my awakening, something shifted. 

In those moments as the needle pushed through my skin, all of the pent up pain of the past three weeks, from packing to leaving, goodbye’s, cya later’s, family situations, the pangs of uncertainty that may trickle into our ISness if we do not stay mindful, rose to the surface and dissipated back into Source.  I was again forged in the fire of change born of pain and could see the journey from a codependent, enabling, resentful, martyr (SMH) to the my rapidly awakening true self, a divine creatrix mindfully watching my feet fall solidly onto the crystal bridge that I am choosing to see, utilizing only my divine sight to guide me. 

Brand new levels of trust in self, in source, in YOU, for we are all connected six BILLION expressions of the divine.  WE ARE the same, all source energy expressing itself UNIQUELY. 

Thank you my soulpod family for holding space for me whilst I held my breathe temporarily submerged in the abyss… a guest but no longer a resident,  thank you for the love (it’s in all of us) that anchored me..  You know who you are!

How far I've come:  from whence I came... 

oh now I gotta take off an additional 10-15 pounds.. not sure because I don't weigh myself anymore.. but DAYUM I am bloated.  LOL huge self love commenced!  pfft!  

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….