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[healingbymyself4myself]

Haunting of lives past

I was determined that today would be like any other day, and in all of the ways that other days can possibly suck, it did!

There were pockets, moments of connection, of strength, of competency,

but they all have been crushed under the weight of superstition, bad vibe, conspiracy

The gloom and it’s stench of doom consume me

The negative thought patterns connecting with the trauma of this lifetime connecting to the patterns of previous lifetimes connecting

to slaughter enslavement murderous coups

and lots of us damn no names not knowing How the fuck we supposed to know the difference between the don’ts and the dos

I don’t need black cats or ladders or fucking umbrellas to feel the lashes on my back

from this life I had in the Past when I was black,

black as night Covered in black and blue very dark here we were beat whilein shackles and chains

a slave a servant A cum Hole

again

Let me remind

you they barely ever called us by our names.

I can still feel the imprmy of his boots in my back

as I curled in a ball Too afraid to fight back

Rolled up in that ball I protected my organs and my face

Knowing that one mighty kick,

In Just the right place,

Would end it all

Yes but in the end of my enslavement the torture the abuse are you sure that I die here on the ground no longer fearing their news but I rolled in the ball like a goddamn armadillo and I live that day and I slept at night crying into my pillow

It’s hard in this lifetime

The one I have now with this skin of white

To truly understand the depth of all those years of enslavement based fright

But when I open my book and look at my records I see

Decades upon decades of people owning me

I have had many clear memories of multiple lives ad an African slave,

Another life in Egypt forced to dig in a cave

I have seen my body, Many times, In an unmarked grave

There’s little positive value of these memories

I hold them because they are different

[healingbymyself4myself]

To do list

Oct 2019

My partner suggest that I put him on my to do list. He suggests a list like this

to do

number one Morgan

number two dishes

number three laundry.

He says this in s flirtatious text message

The text message above says

“no we don’t need milk we have 1/3 of a gallon”

the text message above that says

“The children have asked to have Bagels for dinner. I’m down with that are you?

The text above thatSays yay you’re done with work are you able to come home before writers’ group”

The text message before that is paragraph after paragraph of a very sexy dream he had the night before that he sent me, in great detail while he was on his lunch break for me to read while I was on my lunch break. His dream was deep and sexual and kinky and fantastical and detailed and realistic and possible. His description was ornate flowery and fucking hot

Yes people, this is how we get it done!

Among our kids and soccer games and parkour lessons and jobs and commutes and dogs and did I mention we are buying a house and grocery shopping and over due electric bills and fuel assistance renewals and shitty neighbors and complicated parents and trauma and great friends and fuck—-we need to fuck

And so my partner suggest that I put him on my to do list

number one do Morgan

number to do the dishes

number three do laundry

Rinse repeat rinse repeat rinse repeat rinse

I know that he loves me deeply

he knows that I love him deeply

he knows that if I do not add him to my to do list I will forget our intimacy

And it will die a painful death by Candy Crush!

yes people I cannot even begin to tell you how many nights I lay in bed with my back to the man that I love as a pop little purple squares of candy on my phone screen instead of fucking ! Fuck—-we need to fuck!

our intimacy could be forgotten with the next song from crazy ex-girlfriend that we sing in our beds as we forget to fff oh yes Thank god Becca’s having sex by episode 18 because Until that episode. we totally forgot to fuck —-we need to fuck

This past year we got engaged right now we are buy a house next year we will be wed

All the while our children just keep growing our responsibilities just keep growing

our love just keeps growing and yet our passion, our deep seeded desire, the time we wish to have together, it’s vanquishing under the dream life we are building together? A rich racy dream life or we forget to act out

So my partner suggests that I put him amongst the items on my to do list number

one do Morgan

number two do the dishes

number three do the laundry,

he sent this to me flirtatiously hours after sending me a deep fantasy, a dream he had late last night

A dream that matches his real dream for a future encounter when we fuck, fuck—-we need to fuck.

And so as I drive my automobile home reading the flirtatious to do list

number one Morgan

number two Dishes

number three laundry

I laugh and I know that it’s time for us to fuck——we need to fuck.

And so in the rhythm of the rocking of the breathing of the slowing of the coming of the groaning we fuck and then I fucking forget what was number two and number three on my to do list

[healingbymyself4myself]

Dreams

When I was little I had dreams,

two reoccurring dreams,

They come up again and again and again

In the first one:

there was always a 5 story brick building always a cartoon skunk up on the top floor looking out a window

And always the moment the smiling skunk and I locked eye s

Flames would burst from between each brick

The cartoon skunk wild continue to smile but I could always see the fear in the smiling skunk’s eyes

After a few terrifying moments the flames would always turn to blood pouring, dripping or spurting, between each brick

Then I would wake up

Around the time I got my menses this dream stopped.

My second reoccurring dream,

The second dream that would come up night after night after night after night after night.

This other dream followed me beyond childhood, beyond puberty, beyond bleeding bricks and smiling skunks.

this dream has follows me

give ms me insight

let me know what is actually going on in my life.

So this reoccurring dream,

This one that started when I was a child,

In this dream there are no cartoon characters ,

When this dream began I was a toddler and I was trapped in the backseat of a car maybe it was that red nova, not sure, but bench back seats for sure,

I was trapped in the backseat of the car, no adult was ever present

No one in the front seat

Just me

and then suddenly

the car would shift into neutral and roll

roll down the driveway turn at the end of the driveway and roll down the street only to turn yet again and roll down the next street and the next, right past the corner store. That car rolled and rolled and rolled and there I was in the backseat

I couldn’t reach the steering wheel the brakes the lights the horn

I couldn’t reach any of it

I couldn’t climb over the back of the seat.

I was stuck!

I had this dream night after night after night and similar, never the same

sometimes the road was bumpy and the car would rock back-and-forth but never stop.

On some nights I would roll right past various neighbors, friends, family members or even the guy who owned the corner store

Some nights, some of the people would try to stop the vehicle, but no one ever did

it kept rolling and rolling and rolling until

I woke up

When I was a teenager it would be my friends driving, or the person I had the crush on or the teacher who’s test I had just taken,

In my 20s when I was drinking a lot,

The vehicle was a giant 35 foot Winnebago, Jim Brady was driving Matty was preventing me from getting up front to tell Jim to stop and that dream we didn’t roll and roll and roll

We actually stopped but but only be wise rolled until we crashed into a building.

In real life, many years later, both Matty and Jim Brady committed suicide due to their addictions. But for that time, the time of that dream, they were alive and kicking and drinking and yes for that time they were driving my mess of a life. I don’t recall having that dream for the next 15 or so years, I’m not saying I didn’t have it, but I didn’t remember it.

But Here now in my 40s, that dream has resurfaced again. Im these time I’m in the backseat of a rather small vehicle, my body large and able to climb over the seat easily. I get behind the steering wheel, apply the breaks and steer. I stop the car in a safe place where no one is hurt no one is scared.

My teacher says our dreams are our souls time,

they are the souls time to communicate with our conscious mind

bringing messages the souls had forward.

Last week I had a dream, my now deceased grandfather was driving, my grandfather is one of my best spirit allies, so in this dream last week my grandfather was driving m and my 91 grandmother, who is still alive, sat by his side. I was in the backseat, and I was larger enough to climb over and take that wheel,

But I let my grandfather drive, I massaged his shoulders the whole time letting him know it was OK for him,

my deceased maternal grandfather,

to drive this car for a while.

I love you Grandpa Fran

[healingbymyself4myself]

Trash

My kids room is full of trash

Let me be clear,

Her room is not trashed,

Her floor is clear of rubbish

She has put everything in order

Everything in its corresponding bin

On its most logical shelf

In the Order with which she is

or is not most likely to play with each object,

she is a gawd damn Capricorn for Fuck’s sake

Her room is cute and tidy and organized

Yet

Her room is FULL of trash,

Plastic objects created by enslaved children in China,

Pocket-sized pleasure-centered pieces of shit,

Designed to exploit the desires of children around the entire first world,

Tiny things,

cute things,

things with accessories for their accessories

I shit you not

There is a doll brand that will, for the sake of this poem, remained unnamed,

And no it’s not that expensive ass brand you are thinking if you don’t currently have a doll loving kid under the age of twenty—

because those dolls, as expensive as they may be are made to last,

but we will return to that teaching soon enough.

So the signature doll brand at your local big box store, the one that draws you in like an arrow,

Aw gawd good, no,

no, not the one the waltons run,

now shopping there would just be despicable,

but did anyone see the Black Friday Sales that shithole is offering, some of those prices are truly unbeatable,

ahem I mean unbearable, intolerable, down right deeezgusting!!

So back the dolls, at the big box store that you are drawn to like an arrow,

those generic fucking 18” dolls with no backstory, those dolls,

their accessories have accessories—-

I swear!

You can get your dolly

a doggie of her very own

but don’t forget the line of doggie accessories, outfits, toys to coordinate with the doggies dolly owner!

And the dolly

can even have

a dolly of her very own

and Yup you guessed it!

You can buy teeny tiny dolly accessories for the dolly’s dolly!!

So now with this perspective

we can return to the image of my daughter’s room,

The room full of tiny plastic molded pieces of trash,

molded by children,

working long days for little in return,

to create trash to be peddled to kids

with an insatiable appetite for this shit, who will begin to see themselves as collectors,

And will risk receiving duplicates

over and over and over again

for that dream,

The dream of opening a blind bag

And fining an “ultra ultra rare” piece of plastic molded shit, that intrinsically has no more value than the other piece of plastic molded shit deemed “common”

According to the packaging insert that might as well be my daughter’s god damn bible.

And who you may ask buys her all this trash?? ME! Yup!

I mean now that she is approaching 10 she buys it with her allowance which she earns by doing real work.

She cleans for two hours on weekends, walks the dogs 7 days a week, takes care of her brother, helps with daily responsibilities, makes her bed and of course

keeps all the trash in her room tidy and organized.

Much more than the

4 yuan an day for their

17 hour work days

28 days a month

that migrant factory working children in China are reportedly making

That’s 56 US cents a day,

3 US pennies an hour

to make these molded plastic things

that are,

BY fucking Design,

going to

Break

Snap

Fall Apart

Or get fucking lost because they are so goddamn teeny tiny

They will never biodegrade,

They are not worthy heirlooms

They will be coveted today,

lost or forgotten tomorrow

And filling the landfill when the next fad

Appears And then. Disappears

And our children are in tears

Because of the constant confirmation of their fears,

That These things

will in fact

always

Break

Snap

Fall Apart

Or get fucking lost because they are so goddamn teeny tiny

because

As our first world children are learning at the bloody expense of our third world children:

Capitalism is fucking Insidious!

[healingbymyself4myself]

Enchanters Wheel “of Fortune”

Spinning

Spun

I have the spins

Not from drinking

or vertigo

No

I have no issues with

the calcium carbonate crystals in my ears,

And yet,

This case of the spins

Feels familiar

It feels like a pattern

A woven pattern

A double helix

A web

With all of its stickiness and entanglement

The stimuli is the catalyst

the result?

I

freak

out.

The wheel spins and fortunes fall out

Like the little slips of paper

That get baked in a cookie

How does the paper not burn?

Is it slipped in through the slit?

No way! It wouldn’t fit.

Oh it’s placed inside,

when the cookie is folded,

still warm and mailable until it hardens

Ding ding ding

Warm,

mailable,

welcoming,

open to the idea of holding

a fortune,

a future,

a potential,

a piece of wisdom

Tucked away, kept safe, kept secret

In its hardened shell

Break in the case of an emergency,

Or in case of dessert.

The fortune reveals to us

Life

Death

Heartwarming Heartbreak

The potential of everything

The actualization of anything

The Enchanter,

the siren,

the spell caster,

the witch,

the warlock

the wizard

the fortune

All of it connotes

someone or something

Doing something

TO someone or something

It leaves us

as the passive recipient

Like a game show contestant,

Left to the fate of the wheel,

Spin that wheel,

hoping for that million dollar wedge

Or that all expense paid trip to Disney

Ok the clue is Phrase:

Spin, clickety click click click click

$2000

What letter would you like?

R

We have NINE Rs

Being being being being being beingBing bing bing

Yes!

Vannah, I’d like to buy a vowel

O Please

We have 21 Os

Bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bang bangBing bing bing bing bing bing bing

Pat I’d like to solve the puzzle

The phrase is

You are such a Tough Cookie that

You know that there are no cookie cutter solutions and therefore

You will never get caught with your hand in the cookie jar,

because you know, despite all fortunes,

That is exactly how the cookie crumbles

[healingbymyself4myself]

Texting with my wise self

Me: Hey, you awake?

Wise: Yup, of course. I love the quiet of the early morning. How’d you sleep?

Me:Ok

Wise: really? How many hours did you get?

Me: ummmm 4.5, that’s enough right?

Wise: ummmmm no judgement here, but you know it’s not. Why were you up so late?

Me: well I was helping Kale rearrange her room for the new year. Did I tell you about her melt down on Weds?

Wise: you just said she had “an astrology Melt down”, so what happened?

Me:It was really adorable actually, she was sobbing and she said to me “you don’t understand as a Capricorn we always need to have things around us that we can organize. But as a Capricorn we hate having lots of stuff that we feel like we have to organize.” The example she gave was “I have a whole sun glass collection, I love to organize them, but I don’t even wear sunglasses!”

Wise: Oh pobrecita, poor baby. So cute though. You do know what is happening for her astrologically speaking right?! There are 4 planets in Capricorn right now! Just let her know that she’s not alone.

Me: Really?!!? Ohh She will be so relieved to hear that! It’s been a really rough week or two for her, a ton of tears, a ton of introspection, Her emotional intelligence floors me!

Wise: really? Is it really a surprise to you that you have two highly emotionally intelligent children? Who do you think they get it from? LOL! You of course! You’re such a great role model in that regard.

Me: awwwwww (blushing)

Wise: So back to you and understanding your tiny amount of sleep

Me: oh right! So after Wednesday’s meltdown I told her we would spend thurs afternoon re-organizing her room. We were able to get five bins of stuff in the basement and two trash bags of donations. She agreed that she might donate the things in the basement later, but for now it was too hard to imagine parting with them.

Wise: See you were up all night organizing her room? what a mom thing to do!

Me: I mean not that late, we put her to bed by 9:30. I know an hour after her bedtime, so it sort of push my evening off a bit and then after working so hard with her I wanted a reward. So I made myself a bowl of peanut butter chex topped with black cherry chocolate chunk ice cream with some hot fudge and some whipped cream.

Wise: oh. Yummmmm

Me: really? No lecture? Aren’t you supposed to tell me to lay off the sweets or something? Come on you are the wiser of the two of us!

Wise: I am the wise YOU and so Knowing you, I’m sure by breakfast time you have already achieved digestive balance?!

Me: Yeah, you do know me. What a great breakfast! I sautéed some sausage and bacon and a ton of Kale topped it with two eggs, my favorite miso and that nettles sauerkraut!! Delicious!

Wise: see you make wise decisions.

And Believe you me, after Organizing Kale’s room, you deserved more than just ice cream

Me: Yeah you’re right, so anyway I ate ice cream while watching some Schitts creek, got caught up in the storyline, went for a second episode and then noticed My wonderful partner was nodding off on our super cozy couch in his blue Snuggie! so cute!

Wise: that’s sounds like a cute night. How are things going with Morgan?

Me: Hmmm Let’s see, things are pretty good. Did I tell you we had sex three times in the last four days! not yesterday because obviously after Kale’s room and ice cream we were too tired. Buuuut in the middle of the day yesterday I was in Easthampton and he was doing errands in Northampton and I told him to swing through so we could make out before he went to get the kids from school and he did! So yeah we are pretty cute right now.

Wise: whoa!! That’s very different From the sexless six weeks before that?

Me: I KNOW

Wise: So what about your work? I know you had that beloved earth retreat last weekend how are you feeling about all that?

Me: I mean I’m really nervous. I feel really good about making my boundaries clear with beloved Earth. Bringing 14 clients down to four clients by the end of quarter one. By April 1 cutting my hours from 40+ to 24. It all feels really manageable. I Can’t wait to be building my private practice! I can’t wait to be running my next retreat in April. The retreat, and healing work, that’s when I feel alive. And still I have deep gratitude for the power of the paycheck. Yeah I’m feeling really good about where my work life is going.

Wise: this is a lot of really positive change! Feel like you’re really coming into your power on all fronts. What changed?

Me: well four days ago I started spending time with the lightbox every day, being sure to take vitamin D, doing my Chinese herbs, oh and micro dosing MDMA.

Wise: it’s all or nothing with you!!

ON or OFF, no in between! You crack me up!

Me: Yeah in retrospect I guess I could’ve added one at a time so I would know what was working, but I really like the combination of all of them.

Wise: you would! I love you! I’m really not judging! I love your take charge attitude! It’s nice to have you back. You were really floundering there for a bit.

Me: yeah, I was. Crying every day. Screaming and squawking at Morgan over dumb shit. I was in some deep self sabotaging patterns. I realize in therapy the other day, that it was a combination of the fearing abandonment and just trying to provoke the situation to “get it over with”. Like if he’s going to leave eventually, might as will control the situation so he leaves now.

Wise: what’s all that about? Where is that coming from?

Me: that same worthiness crap. Gawd when will I finally feel worthy of his love, this life, this house?

Wise: be gentle, you do feel it. I mean I feel it, and I’m you right? Every time I settle into that cozy couch, every time I deepen my kisses with Morgan shifting that obligatory peck into an invitation, every time I create another nutritious meal, especially when I make exactly what I want for me and I eat it! Every time I drop in to my mantra: “I am love. I am life.”

Every time I can feel the healing. I can see the transformation. You are doing such a good job.

Me:awwwwww. You are so sweet. Thanks

Wise: you are welcome. And thank you! Thanks for doing all the hard work so we can be present in this live with all these wonderful people.

Me: Thanks! I literally couldn’t do it without Me.

I mean you

I mean us

Wise: I wish you were here so I could hug you

Me: what?!? Silly! I’m right here! On the cozy couch! With YOU!

Wise:ohh I thought that was you holding me. Gosh how I love these early morning chats.

Me: I know right! I love my family AND it’s really sweet to have alone time here with you.

[healingbymyself4myself]

Always trust your cape

Spread arms sky wide

Turn face to meet the wind

Fill lungs believing that oxygen is helium

Close eyes tight with a full face scrunch

Legs steady and strong,

knees bent slightly

Be warned,

Preparing for flight is exhausting

Stomach filled to the brim with butterflies,

Mind empty of banal daily thoughts

flow enters, filling brain void with focus

Sense of smell heightens,

sense of touch vanishes as hands go numb

Be warned,

Transmuting fingers into feathers is laborious

Stockings sag despite all efforts to keep them taught

Eye mask acts as horse’s blinders

All peripheral vision is eliminated

Leotard, several sizes too small,

elastic restricts full belly breaths,

Neither oxygen nor helium,

not much is getting in

Be warned,

Soaring through manifested dreams takes discipline

Out stretch arms,

Elbows cover ears,

hands form into point,

Feathers, formerly fingers interwoven

Double check ankles for possibility of entanglement,

Address old patterns of self sabotage,

Sever all cords that no longer serve us,

Move all cords misaligned,

Expand and open allowing faith to fossilize into wisdom,

And

Finally

LEAP

Be warned,

Your life will never be the same

[healingbymyself4myself]

That door?

They never noticed that door before...Or had they

Well of course they fucking had!!

It’s the goddamn emergency hatch

The get out of jail free

The ticket to get the hell out of Dodge

The Hand-basket that only knows one way to hell, makes no pit stops and shows no mercy

That door is the way out and this here bitch has taken it many many times and yes, in case your curious

every time opening that door does in fact sound the alarm.

Strolling along a sunlight path, grass surrounds us on both sides. Hand in hand, eyes lock, smile begets smile, love is in the air and Ooooops a trapdoor opens right up underneath us like the yawning mouth of a sleepy dragon. Swallows us whole, then spit us both out, dripping in mucus and angst. Our vision blurred by that crazy ride inside that teenage dragon.

Hmm adulthood? No longer seeing each other through rose filters. Noticing all the ways our two hearts are actually very different. Too different. Time to assimilate more. Stand out less and for gawd’s sake don’t lock eyes and forget that the floor can open right beneath your feet. Emergency Exit— Love is blind and cruel ya know!

The next time was more challenging, more sophisticated, more devious.

We were 2 crusty kids growing up together, cleaning up together, getting smart together and dropping the stupid facades. 18 packs of beer traded for 180 page thesis. Bi-hawks for Bachelors degrees and punk music for the symphony. No joke. We played grown ups real well. Until that one night around the fire. I drank too much, sent him home. She and fell hard through that door, onto the forest floor where we fucked all night, me pretending we were making love. A love worth fighting for, worth ending my seven years with him for. A love that made me say things like “if he didn’t see I wasn’t happy then he really wasn’t paying attention.” Emergency exit—I have needs too ya know!

Straight card revoked, queer card issued as I worked HARD for extra credit. Unpack assumptions about relationships, marriage, family, fornicating, gardening and commence the fermentation.

Inherit a community starter, add fuel to that fire, keep feeding it and keep it warm, too hot it will die off, too cold it will lay dormant. Keep stirring the pot, keep flipping it all on it’s head, keep shaking it up, keep breaking the mold, keep it fresh, keep it simple, keep it communal, keep it broken and festering and insecure and guess what——it was rotting all that time! Add it to the compost pile of other forgotten and taken for granted projects. Emergency exit—this much contortion hurts ya know!

Tornados show no mercy, twisters catch it all, swept up, swept off my feet, my foundation, my firewall. Infection festers, insecurities flourish, colonies of incompetence are well established. Violence lights gas lamps that burn so bright we are all blinded. The images of the flames scorch our retinas—-is there still flame or only the mirage of flaming scorn. Soulmate after soulmate, but they were never me. With her spit on my face and a blown out knee I limp to the Emergency exit— I’m fucking done with you ya know!

Here, now, present, mindful. Shedding the past like ancient skin. None of this fits me anymore. Exposed vulnerable and naked, Gawd it’s fucking cold!

Who is here to hold me? I know he is not blind or cruel

Who is here to hold me?

He sees my needs, he is paying attention.

Who is here to hold me?

He is happy with my shapes, no contortion required

Who is here to hold me?

He has no interested in harming me. His spit stays in his mouth and his hands stay to himself

Who is here to hold me?

Who is here to hold me?

I grope around in the dark, trying to find the emergency exit.

Who is here to hold me?

He will hold me, but he will never ask

Nope, this is the guy that will never ask why I weep. He is too frightened that through my tears I will say, “I weep because of you and I’m leaving you”

Who is here to hold me?

He feels my eyes scanning the wall wondering where that door went!

Who is here to hold me?

Where is my door?!

Isn’t this when I make my exit?

They had never noticed that solid wall before or had they....

[healingbymyself4myself]

Ritual,

habitual,

obitual

I love everything about ritual,

I love the Special circumstances,

the special equipment or implements,

the special words or prayers

the special clothing or adornment

the special traditions that mark ritual time as separate from everyday humdrum boring ass time.

So why the fuck was I born a fourth generation American white agnostic?

Ritual: pack your cigarette box against the snuff box of your left hand seven times

Ritual: clink your drinks and shout “Slainte” before knocking them back in unison?

Ritual: divide the powdered drug into equal piles on the mirror before drawing them into lines

Ritual: tap the air bubbles out of your syringe of heroin in a familiar rhythm reminiscent of woody woodpecker?

Is this how I found ritual in my life?

Was it ritual? Habitual? Or Obitual?

For many of us it was all three:

Ritual:

The idea of connection through shared idiosyncrasies,

Habitual

The concept that it was replicable, repeatable, something to come back to over and over again in the middle of the chaos all the fuck around us,

Obitual:

And for many of my fallen friends, that I pour libations for, it was their lethal end.

Now, as I age, like cheese in a cave I remember what it was we needed.

Replicable connection to something larger than ourselves.

Now

I light candles

I place rocks

I anointe with oils

I say prayers

I read cards

I muscle test

I go in and down

I heal

And that healing

Brings breaths full of clean crisp air

Goes deeper more than any tequila shot,

Burns better then any nasal drip

And feels more rewarding than that dragon I kept chasing

My rituals now

Bring me in deep alignment with all of my selves, past present and future

Allow me to converse directly with ancestors

Support me to make new paths for my predecessors

Create true connection

And see that I am both the centered being

And the creator of chaos. Neither is more authentic neither is more real

[healingbymyself4myself]

Saved Photo

The stressors of your day melt

Your body softens

You follow your breath

The pull of gravity

Holding

Supporting

Relieving you

of all the burdens

A sweet hand caresses your forehead

You are magic

You are care

You are love

You are free

Good night

[healingbymyself4myself]

Lift me up

Lift me up

Scrape me up off the floor

Scoop me up in your arms

Carry me away to a place

Any place of your choosing

You choose

Not me,

For once,

The element of surprise is not my favorite I know,

I suck at letting go because I’m always

And forever

afraid to fall

Slip through the cracks

And be lost

Alone

The act of handing over the wheel to another,

feels impossible to me,

What if they don’t know the way

and we get off course,

Get lost,

lose our focus and determination,

Lift me up

Scrape me off the floor

Scoop me up in your arms

Carry me away to a place,

Any place of your choosing

Best if I cover my eyes

Best if I keep my mouth shut

Best if I stay still

Not controlling

Not directing

Not in charge

So lift me up

Bend me like origami

See what new shapes you can make

Because I’m tired

of trying

to carry myself,

dropping myself,

Allowing myself to slip

through the cracks

Losing myself

Being alone

What will it take t

Do you Lift me? Do I lift you?

Pause

A smile graces your face

A sparkle in your eye

The race of your heart

The hope sets in

Lift me

We exchange a few words

Truth emerges

Vulnerability is mirrored

Gratitude exudes

I Lift you

Our bodies draw closer

Lips meet

Tongues dance

Hearts soar

Lift Us

Day becomes night

Night lengthens

Long night begets deep sleep

Deep sleep flees with the morning sun

UpLift us

We each take a piece of the work

I listen

You speak

We each take turns

We

are

uplifted

[healingbymyself4myself]

My dream with Patrick Califia

You in black denim and leather

You lived in an apartment on the top of a triple decker and there was no elevator,

The stairs were numerous and you apartment was difficult to get to do you mostly stayed out and people (of which I was one) came to see you often.

You spent a lot of time on your front porch which was gorgeously adorned with many hanging plants like ferns, marbled pothos (ha spell check really wanted that to be pot hos!)

You had deeply unique insights about the world and you feared that the global collective wouldn’t take you seriously if you shared them. You would shared them to each of us that came visit you with hopes that we would transmute the transmission into more palatable words but that the sentiment, and therefore the lessons would received by a wider collective then the communities you flourished in.

You were very fidgety with your hands and quick with you speech. There was a frenetic energy to all you did and it drew me to you though it threatened to disrupt the gravitational pull that keeps me rooted, grounded. I had a sense that the energetic extensions of your curled and tired fingers were vibrant and buzzing. Able to dig through the world’s ashtrays and bring up forgotten and scorned nuggets long forgotten.

I wanted your fidgety hands on my body your frenetic energy inside me but I knew that was deeply selfish. In this moment my job was to listen to your courageous prose, digest, integrate, transmute and transmit.

Your eyes watered as you spoke and your voice trembled as the truth poured out of your pursed lips as if you were engaging the mercy upon me and feeding me a trickle of the flood that surged behind those lips.

During one of our porch sessions you told me that the virus had come to see us. That she was behind the plants in the corner as to not frighten us. You asked if I was ready to hear what she had to say to us. I wanted to protect you, I worried. You assured me that you and she were old friends. You told me about the years that you had spent with her cousin gay cancer and how the only thing our community could do was keep loving deeply until we had more info on how to keep each other safe. You told me that she was here to share a message that would kick up some religious trauma but if I could listen to the intent behind her words, digest, integrate, transmute and transmit, just as you had taught me the world would be better off.

I went to the corner of your porch where the virus hid behind the plants and she whispered, “I grow in the absence of god. I grow in the absence of your personal growth. Find courage in a god, any god, and grow.”

I returned to you in your chair. I held your hand. The frenetic energy entered me. I stayed in the vibration of her words, your touch, and my knowledge of self. I turned my heart to a gay-as-fuck loving god who presented as a drag queen and laughed. My laughter met your laughter as we kissed. Our tongues danced like tentacles yearning to hold (but not too tightly). Our curled and tired fingers clasped in another drawing intergalactic hieroglyphics in the air.

I left with a promise to return each day, after your message had been disseminated. You thanked me for my obedience and I thanked you for you tutelage. We vowed that our personal growth would continue. We swore off the harmful practice of indulging in the absence of god. We committed to stop pushing god away. We promised, we would instead, call that sexy bitch in and love her as deeply as we loved ourselves, each other, our community.

[healingbymyself4myself]

Curse words

They just feel so fucking good

Life is rough right now.

Its lockdown/Quarantine/covid bullshit. And so during this tough time,I have allowed my children to have

full liberty to express the

full spectrum of all emotions through

full access to an English language including any curse words of their choice!

The rules in our family are simple.

Curse words feel fucking good to say.

So say them when they are necessary. Say them when they are required.

Say them when they are appropriate.

Say them whenever the fuck you want to,

As long as you’re NOT saying them

on a zoom call with your class

On the phone with your great grandmother

in front of any of the neighbors out for a stroll

in any of the lines at the grocery store

Life is slow now.

Ears are open now

people are listening

I’m sure our neighbors laugh many times daily when our dog starts barking and they hear Zephyr yell

“zippy

shut

the

fuck

up!”

The dogs bark is incessant

and so is Z’s response.

I laugh

It’s funny

It brings me joy.

I also find it hilarious when I hear his screams through the wall

“Kale, what the hell!”

As she begs him for HIS allowance for the 3rd time this week!

My daughter will not curse no Matter how much I beg her too! She has real fucking class! Not sure where she gets it from?

Oh right there is one more rule, we don’t use curse words to hurt people—ok that is a rule for the kids—-because did I mention that my shithead ex-fiancée and I are fucking breaking up during a goddamn global pandemic with a mother fucking lock down wherein we spend all of our fucking time in the same fucking house waiting for something to shift to free us from this shitshow that is our life!—-but the kids they don’t use swears to hurt one another!

No, with the kids we’ve discussed the subtly of of naming that someone’s behavior is bitchy, but the summation of them can not be reduced to a bitch.

(Although in most conversations with my Ex, I motherfucking assure you I Am being a full fledge fucking Bitch and he is being a flaming fucking asshole) but the kids know better than to say that!

I’ll check in with my so. periodically, “do you think that you’ll be able to stop in time to return to school in September?

My child respond “fuck yeah mom. I know I fucking swear atHome, but I would never ever at school!”

[healingbymyself4myself]

Web of support

There is a web of support

A net of people, places and resources,

It is actively weaving itself

It is getting wound, bound, strong

This web of support is actively building

Participatory involvement

Like the baby that actively turns during childbirth

Like the fish that swim right through the heron’s legs.

It is building

They are coming

They are ready

All you have to do

Is Leap,

Fall

Trust

That it is there.

It’s all right there.

Get out

Feel the sunshine on your face

Hold your High dream in your third eye

Ask for divine assistance

Watch for divine messaging

Know that divine timing will reveal itself

[healingbymyself4myself]

Ways to NOT just blurt out “I Love You”

I appreciate you.

I Adore you.

I Enjoy our time together.

I appreciate you.

Thank you for being part of my life.

Thank you for choosing to be here.

Thank you for holding space for me.

You're cute.

I'm grateful for what we have.

You bring so much joy into my life.

You make me smile

You make my life better

You ground me

Thank you for seeing me

I love how we connect in this way

I cherish you

I am thankful for how well we fit

I cant wait to see you

I cant wait to spoil you

I cant wait to kiss your lips

I feel good when I'm with you.

Thank you for listening.

Thank you for supporting me.

Thank you for helping me feel safe.

How can I support you?

Thank you for inviting me/hosting me.

Fuck you're amazing!

I value you,

I enjoy our time together,

you are important to me,

i enjoy inhabiting the same space as you,

[healingbymyself4myself]

Death and dying during covid

I want to begin by calling in the souls scattered and tattered by this virus,

The widows and widowers

Left with only the whisper of their loved ones taken,

I want to ground us all in the eep understanding that for all of us, life will never be the same,

and for many of us this mean discovering a new normal, a new way of being

The dichotomy of new can only exist with the passing of old,

We can only start over if we put the old cycle to rest, end it, say goodbye

And so in honoring, and in no way belittling the actual lives lost I would like to say

Rest In Motherfucking Peace to a whole bunch of bullshit that will never shade the light of my life again;

Bye bye forgetting my own needs exist,

Hey, doing everyone else’s emotional labor—fuck off!

Adios partnering with someone because they have great potential!!

Sayonara “if only I (fill in the blank) this person will love me”

Ciao incessant need to seek the approval of others

Bon voyage waiting around to see if my needs will ever be the focus of our relationship,

Au revior modeling the way I would like to be treated in hopes that someday my partner will reciprocate

Vale, wishing I could focus on myself but finding that I’m too busy

I’ve seen that these pieces have been dying for years,

I watched them take their final breaths for months,

When the world stopped, I stopped.

I stopped pretending that living all of those ways was ok.

I unplugged the respirator

I stopped with the defibrillator

I ceased CPR

I stopped believing that was who I was

And you know what?

That version of me died, those parts are now deceased. I’m no longer that person

This is not a performance,

Though it is an act,

An act of courage

in which I allow myself commit to doing things differently,

Doing things authentically

Being myself always

Unapologetically

Front and center

My Okcupid profile reads:

🖤 Black Lives Matter

I’m an extremely extroverted polyamorous kinky genderqueer non-binary (they/them) poet, parent and healer. I spend a lot of time riding my bike and geeking out on plant identification in the woods.

I am a deeply spiritual person and spend a lot of time making magick, healing myself and others. My healing work is anchored in psychic mediumship and past life integration work. I’m open to all kids of spiritual beliefs as long as your dogma includes space for a flaming genderqueer who was previously incarnated as Calamity Jane and currently hangs out with a lot of dead people, namely your deceased loved ones, when you are around. I no longer spend time with people who don’t respect my identities nor believe I exist. I assure you I’m as real as your pastor warned you, but a lot sexier and easier to talk to.

I love to travel. I especially love spending time at the ocean. I move around a lot. I like to keep things fresh and exciting AND I’m really good at long distance love and friendship. I’m that person that you may not see for 5 months or even 5 years but when we do see eachother it’s like we haven’t missed a beat!

I am an actively anti-racist white feminist fiercely committed to social and economic justice! I spent decades on the front lines organizing direct action against the state and the ruling class. The past decade my activism has become very personal while I raise two autonomous revolutionary Free Range kids through Anarchist parenting .  

Current goal

I’m currently working to tap into queer community in four distinct regions of the U.S. (though I’m open to international travel as well). Once I’ve established community (and ideally lovers in each region) I will grow my healing practice in all four regions, rotating seasonally, to offer retreats to Queer and Trans folk to help them to remember their soul’s schedule and rediscover the best way forward on their path of Actualization!

I’m really good at:

Parenting my kick-ass emotionally intelligent kids

Conflict resolution, for myself and others

Being accountable for my mistakes

Psychically detecting bullshit

My partner should be:

Ready to dismantle patriarchy through enthusiastically negotiated non-monogamy

I spend a lot of time thinking about:

the needs of everyone around me.

This is an old habit, one of those ones that dies hard.

I’m doing things differently.

I am Now fiercely committed to thinking about my needs as well.

Let’s talk about our mutually important needs together!

And this my friends,

this is where the dying parts of me

fall off

And the living parts of me

finally fucking bloom!

[healingbymyself4myself]

“Just shoot me” Fat

It’s not that I didn’t like spending time with her – – because as a child, I really did

It’s not that I didn’t like helping – – because my whole life I really have

It’s not that I didn’t like going with my mother to the grocery store – – in actuality I hated it

Maybe it was too much pressure for her being in a building full of food, maybe it was all the products being pushed on her limited income, maybe it was because she and I rarely spent time together in public, but as soon as my mother walked through the doors of wilbaums food mart her eyes narrowed her jaws squared and she became so damn mean

“Oh my God, I am not as fat as her am I?

Well am I?

What about her?

Does my gut stick out like hers?

Why does she think it’s OK for her to wear that? Wait, What about her? is my butt as big as hers?”

And then as if all of the comparisons weren’t bad enough, there’s the one that made my blood boil.

“ keel, promise me if I ever get as fat as her you’ll shoot me I swear there would be no point in living”

I would keep my hands in my pockets to hide my fidgeting, I would avoid making any eye contact with my mother. I would scan the faces of the myriad of women trying to determine if they had heard her. I was sure most of them didn’t hear her exact words. I was sure most of them didn’t need to. I was sure they could feel the context of her comments. They could see it in her glance, and it would then be confirmed by my body language —-she was so damn mean.

As a young adult I got fat, real chubby, curvy, bulge out of my clothes far, the kind of fat that my mom had identified as the “just shoot me” fat. My mother was so uncomfortable around me despite how comfortable I was with myself. I loved my curves and I loved how much I disgusted her sensibilities. I loved how much space I could take up in my mothers tiny kitchen. I loved how she would watch my portion sizes and then make so many comments about how she like the feeling of hunger. That hunger was what kept her fierce and on her toes. We all knew it was hunger that in part kept her so damn mean

For Christmas that year she handed me a huge present. Slowly I opened a box full of pairs of black jeans, all of them at least eight sizes too big.

As I removed the various sizes, i stretched my arms all of the way to show the waist bands that went beyond my wing span.

“Well how was I supposed to know? I didn’t wanna make you feel even worse about yourself by buying them too small” even when she thought she was kind she was straight up damn mean

12 years after that xmas they found a lump in my mother’s left breast, she asked them to remove both of her breasts, she exclaimed “just get them both out of here, my whole life I haven’t been able to throw a softball properly because of these things!”

After her double mastectomy as her incisions healed, she discovered what she referred to as her “disgusting swollen gut!”

She prayed the chemo would make her sick and that she would finally be thin, she counted the days until she was supposed to be unable to eat, she fasted and fasted but as the rest of her became emaciated, her belly hung on, like the life preserver most of us would be grateful for at times like these.

She claimed that she had never known it was there, beneath her chest. She said she couldn’t see past her boobs. She said that’s why she always asked me about her body in comparison to other people. She claimed that she just never knew if she looked good or not. She felt betrayed that I had never told her about her swollen gut. She called me a liar.

I told her that I don’t lie and that she did always look good except for those moments when she was being so damn mean. because honestly y’all, promise me if I ever get as mean as her you’ll shoot me. If I hated myself as much as she does, if I was always as mean to the people around me as she is, I swear there would be no point in living. That is what I would deem “Just shoot me mean”