Carbon black Madonna goddess Diamond the Virgin Mary In essence carbon diamond the same Black carbon evolves itself organically thru Pressure Diverted Process substituting Silica for Diamond carbon evolution Earth is giant Silica Macrochip Synthetic overlay of Organic Mater Matter Matrix Maat ??? Hybridizing carbon/silicon Black Carbon 666 has been demonized, so has black Madonna, black goddess, dark mater, flesh, Body; Diamond Virgin Mary Purity Clear Light logic Spirit worshipped,
But they Are one And the same In essence, the expressions of matter/spirit Mater/Pater Matrix Pattern Therein Lie We….. Somewhere In Between
Silicon a lesser substitute of Diamond
Silicone is manMade
The AntiChristed?
Carbon =Diamond…..two expressions of One Single Element ~Buddhist Diamond Body~ The One~ Into the Many ….however:
Silicon being used for ‘artificial overly’ singularity comprised from silicone based algorithmic reality structure
Battlestar Galactica Cylons/Humans ….number six…. Looking for hybrid……(Orgonoid Ai) hybrid of Ai(silicone) and Organic( carbon)
Just some contemplations that have been firming for quite some time
There are too many clues in this room. Everything adds up to nothing more than another door. I am unhinged. Fragmented. Infinitely recursive memories lure me into crevices and cracks in Time and Space and I fear I will never escape. The psychgulags magnify every passing Self inSides and wide angled lenses. Dreaming fractals seaming Me. Cyclic reveries….instant pedigrees of gods and goddesses and hybrid minds trapped in time….where do the lines blend into mine? Ive been inside for aeons. There are too many mirrors. The more complex the geometry, the easier it is to trap consciousness. The map is not the territory. The map is not the territory. The map is not the territory. I remind myself. I find my Selves hiding in prizm cells. Self contained and self detained. “A mind so complex its breaking her neck,she thinks shes a car driving to its own wreck”. The tachyon rides the fractal, I said. Once. Inside the Dream. But a new story gripped me before I could fill fully the stream of conscious twists tearing at my seams. If I could just slow it down. Breathe. Bleed. Feed. ReSeed into the Dream. Freeze the frames and seize the reigns in Mater Matters domain. Anchor Pater Patterns through a human brain. Focus the locus of attention and split in tension to sink deep deep deeper into dimensions of space that slow the pace…..dermal descension to discover the faces and names that trace my place in the game. Perhaps its all hocus pocus, scripted scenes on blinking screens that spread thru minds like psychic memes programmed by blind adherence to spliced genes in the white satin sheen of a world uncovered but never seen. And all this, all this, all this will set me free.
I rise with the sap …don’t they all? But do they savor The agony of the thaw? The golden whisper The gilded walls That crumble within The twisting halls The manic moments …electric sea Magdalenes womb Opens through me In chambers of gold Ripened carbon Break the mold With diamond body I rise with the sap Pulled by the tide Waking the wonder That sleeps inside.
I catch myself in a sideways glance…. Heard the hoarse whisper of the apocalypse The naked mystery of the lord of the dance Snake charmed ministry in swiveled hips… Was beyond Time in Sine-Wave Brine Baffled by Breath and Trapped in Mind By Maters milky metered rhyme His Pattern scattered in points and line… Sin descended in tender twists He hid the fire in fountains of mist Shed the blood as the milky kiss His beloved entangled in silky bliss Scales in harmony ascend the ladder To shatter the mirror of mind in matter find the secret of carbons atoms The Judas kiss from master Saturn Snake dance sways hypnotic trance Within breaking clay and bone But hybrid eyes hide the glance Born from maze of silicone Again and again the cord unwinds Is torn from tethered trinity born from wombs of eyes and minds Without the measure of infinity A sword that splinters sacred words Skin deep scars that sing The broken spokes and spoken chords Poison every human being… Enters every pore and wound Into every fractal womb Everything is born to bloom…. …………..Time and Space the sacred Loom. 3-10-2024 (First word in each line makes a fractal of my rhyme)
As I sat down to write this post, I put on some music. I felt suddenly compelled to put on ‘Travis’, a band I used to listen to profusely 20 years ago. I clicked on the song ‘Sing’, sorta randomly, but had to chuckle as it started to play and I was whisked back to another lifetime. In some ways. In other ways its the same old story, the same old ways of trying to stay sane.
Baby, you’ve been going so crazy Lately, nothing seems to be going right So low, why’d you have to get so low? You’re so You’ve been waiting in the sun too long
But if you sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing For the love you bring won’t mean a thing Unless you sing, sing, sing, sing
Colder, crying over your shoulder Hold her, and tell her everything’s gonna be fine Surely, you’ve been going too early Hurry, ’cause no one’s gonna be stopped Now, now, now, now, now
But if you sing, sing, sing, sing, sing For the love you bring won’t mean a thing Unless you sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing
Baby, there’s something going on today But I say nothing, nothing, nothing Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing So, now, now, now, now, now
But if you sing, sing, sing, sing, sing For the love you bring won’t mean a thing Unless you sing, sing, sing, sing, sing Ah, baby, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing, sing For the love you bring won’t mean a thing Unless you sing, sing, sing, sing
Francis Healy from ‘Travis’ the Invisible Band
Ive been going back and forth about how to frame the narrative that is starting to chip its way out of the prism cell that is my mind, so effortless it wants to flow out, and I could use any number of filters to see it and speak it and sieve it through. I have been going through old journals and writings from way back to barely teen all the way up through recent times. The running theme, almost frighteningly so, is madness and moods and the mercurial mind. And in light of that, I have come to realize that the only authentic lens to write from is the pulsating pendulum of the opposing states of Mania and Depression that have characterized my existence. Ive spent my whole life with a subtle deeply ingrained terror that the white coats would be knocking on the door at any moment. Ive spent 23 years now in deep research into psychology, neurology, spirituality, astrology, healing, pathology, trauma etc……..simply to understand my own Self and the ‘madness’ that lay at the root of all I am and do. Most people who know me identify who I am, with the Manic side of my nature. There are others, particularly me ex-husband/sons father, who would have a very different story I am sure. To be fair, I met him at 19, not long after the life-changing Trip (story at the end of this post) that I describe elsewhere, which ripped what semblance of a cohesive self I had at the time, into a million pieces. Which catalyzed my entire life since, into a journey of self-discovery, healing, and understanding the precipice I feel I have always teetered upon. He was the only stable tether for almost 10 years as I dove consciously into the underworld in obsessive preoccupation with healing and wholeness. I was a shattered and fragmented madwoman, essentially; My maddening moods and breakdowns were the undercurrent of everything, I was clinging to my highly lucid and lightening fast mercurial mind which attempted to carry me on its wings out of the oozing swamp of unconscious emotional energies and frothing underworld demons from many lifetimes; what little boundaries I started with in this life, were completely shattered at age 19 and I have spent the past two decades putting all the puzzle pieces back together, to gather all the soul shards and gain some footing in this strange place called Consensus Reality. It is not a comfortable place for me, I live more fluidly in the Imaginal Realm, and I know that my Intention in this lifetime was to go down into what I call the ‘psychic gulags’ and rescue all the imprisoned selves that have been splintered and lost for lifetime after lifetime. If I were to try and write the story that is my Life hereNow, without acknowledging the impact that my own wiring and disposition and temperament has played in the narrative, it would feel delusional. And there are so many threads, ‘too many clues in this room’ as Gordon Lightfoot sang……….that untangling them finally will free me to explore another reality. If I had not discovered and immersed myself in the deep undertaking of Astrology and Psychology, I would , no doubt, be locked up somewhere unable to exist in this world. I know a few of those alternate selves, I have been inside their lives in the DreamPlane, I have seen some of the parallel tracks my potential has played out……and I believe I am in the best of all possible worlds.
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Lyrics
Dear diary What is wrong with me? ‘Cause I’m fine between the lines Be not afraid Help is on its way A sentence suspended in air Way over there
Dear diary What else could it be? As nightshade descends like a veil Under the sail of my heart Be still, don’t stop until the end
Dear diary What is wrong with me? ‘Cause I’m fine between the lines
Francis Healy, ‘Travis’ the invisible Band
Astrologically I am a Scorpio Ascendent/sun/uranus/mercury. Sun and Uranus are in exact conjunction………in the first house. If you understand what Uranus represents and expresses, it will make sense, the Mania aspect. The Million-watt electrical connection to the All, that cannot be separated out from my basic sense of self and vitality. Mercury sits almost exactly upon my ascendant. in the 12th house on the other side of Mercury, sits Pluto and Venus in exact conjunction in LIbra. There he is, Hermes, the trickster, the psychopomp…….straddling the very line between the unconscious/conscious self………mercury the winged messenger, the only god who could safely traverse the underworld the realm of pluto/hades. Neptune and MArs sit conjunct in the second house of sagittarius, adds some more intensity. But the kicker for the up and down pull of the madness of opposing highs of euphoric ecstatic delight and the morose leaden disconnection of despair……is perhaps the Moon(Moods/instincts/primal experience of self) in Aries(fiery/impulsive/intense) in close opposition to the 2′ conjunction of Saturn(contraction/depression)and Jupiter(expansion/joviality/cheer)….Those are just a couple short snippets of some of the things I will unpack over the course of writing. Ive gone so deeply into all of it for years, but never articulated it in written form. Its a daunting task, really, when the mind is super mercurial and sees the infinite patterns and connections of everything on many layers, one single sentence can have me fighting to stay focused on the point at hand instead of branching off into a hundred other fractal directions of experience and understanding.
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Understanding myself through the astrological framework, has been instrumental in giving me some objectivity from my own temperament and even the gifts and traumas inherent in the very blueprint of Me. I had been convinced I was utterly insane and there was no hope, no way Id ever be able to integrate all of what was destroying me; in retrospect, I can see how far I have come in stabilizing myself and finally learning exactly what I need in order to have a functioning nervous system that is not destroying myself or others around me, and which can take advantage of the vast creative capacities I carry and have found expression for in the world. The terrible fear that I will die without having developed my talents in this life is the cattle prod that keeps me delving ever deeper into my Body and Soul in order to bring the two together in the arms of Spirit, to truly Bring the Fullness of my Unique Individual expression of Self into this reality.
As I laid on the floor in my blindfold bandana, 5 hours into bodywork and somatic meditation, It came to me how the see-saw had ripped me apart my whole life. But since I had started to prioritize Embodiment and working with my physical body in a variety of intense ways, I had finally found the path to stability, at least, as much as I am capable with this particular wiring and nervous system and astrological blueprint. I had tasted this years before when I obsessively did several hours of my own style of yoga/pilates/movement every single day……it was the only thing that saved me from leaving this reality completely, something to balance the Mind that drove me to madness. AT the time, for years, I still fought the twin demons of Anorexia and Bulimia, but the bodywork allowed me to get some kind of grip on my emotional dysregulation. I only rarely missed a day. I have a tendency toward OCD and my life is very ritualized in many ways, even still, so the over-control at the time of every single thing in my life was vital to regaining some footing in physical reality. AT one point, I woke every morning at about 5:30am, did two hours of yoga, showered hot/cold/hot/cold etc while doing more breathing practices, walked the two miles to West Portal (SF) to get the same Golden Dragon Oolong from Peets Coffee…….I walked the entire way reading a book…(I read up to 10 books a week, used bookstores being my favorite haunt….buying piles, reading, and returning some for the cashback exchange for more)……silently stirred my honey into cup for several minutes, in a sorta trance I would assume it looked like to others, walked back with tea and reading. That was my morning ritual for 1.5 years while living in the Sunset at that dwelling. I still have ritualistic things that I do, but I change them up now and again. AStrologically my moon is in 6th house in whole house signs, and in the evolutionary astrology framework my Pluto Point is in that same house. The 12th house where one of my my stelliums of planets resides is the house of the diffuse boundary realms/subconscious/deeply buried/dreamtime etc…….the 6th is work/service/the daily ‘chop wood carry water’ and the health and purification of the body etc. So it makes sense that the form my healing would take is through the constant and dedicated discipline of Bodywork and daily routine rituals; my natural tendency is toward the Dreaming reality and altered states of consciousness/OBE etc, Its natural, the challenge for me is to stay grounded. To BE HERE NOW.
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How many times over the years have I come out of the low tide, the chosen isolation and reclusive despair state where I have zero tolerance for anyone or anything outside my own company and grasping mind, to think ‘im free now. Im healed. I did it, Im better, Ive sorted it out, im finally totally sane. The sweet shift into mania and high energy and lightening thought and desire for human company etc, the proof that Im superhuman and flying high and from now on I shall accomplish all the infinite desires in my soul, constantly without fail and I can be depended on and life will never lose its golden glow…….’
And hovering one fractal dimension away, my Daimon laughs maniacally and watches as once again the inevitable plummet with wax wings burnt, and the cycle starts itself over again.
The only salvation, is the Body. When I am able to stay true to my bodywork every single day and my grounding rituals, I feel balanced and great and high energy, with excitement and joy and creative fire, I have patience for the daily requirements of living, I care about people and things and have great warmth and appreciation for everything. It is not the euphoria of mania, but the ecstasy of truly being embodied, and loose and feeling and experiencing life through the flowing fascial network of the bodies wisdom. Its as far away from mania as it is from depression. Saturns cold leaden fingers cannot get to me when I devote myself to being in the body, through fascia work, yoga, intense dance, playful movement. Over the past few years I have made a point that when I start to feel Mania coming on, which is usually when Ive left the realm of body and gotten lodged into the mercurial uranian lightening mind suffocating in the infinite patterns and possibilities of all that I can and should do and be and write and say and want and dream and the adventures I can create……I step back and force myself to go deeply back into my body. I trade the extreme highs for the less intense but embodied joy of the simplicity of life. I still cycle through the pendulum but the lows are more like chosen retreat and renewal and refocusing and resting of the nervous system instead of nervous breakdown and collapse and despair and terror that the white coats will be here any moment, to take me away finally.
There are those who somehow find some simple way of living that carries them through, enjoying the typical distractions of what this society dances around. There are others who come into this game with a fire that threatens to consume them, driven by creative intentions that rip them apart and taunt and mock; Moods that make everything and everyone incidental to the crushing weight of manifesting that which is within the mind and soul, clamoring to get out. There has always been a fine line, they say, between genius and madness, and a huge proportion of those who have left the most vital and inspiring and insightul works of art and literature have danced with the very same demons (or Daimons) that keep me pirouetting on a tightrope between chasms……..uranian multidimensional awareness pulsating through a fleshbody with neural synaptic rapture as the Plutonian Dark Underworld of emotional terrors rises like molasses and the Jester Mercury juggling life and death and light and dark tries vehemently to rescue all these personalities from all the lives from all the playground capers in this Infinite Time Game……and integrate them into a Whole New Me.
I told you I'd write you a poem. I've stared at the blank page over and over again. Everything I write comes out cheezy. How to say what I want to say when it's all tangled up within me?
I remember you , thru my young girl eyes... I don't quite know what I felt then. Attracted to danger, to life, to risk. Attracted to freedom, to leaving the confines of my little world. I found it. I traded my innocence for a peek at the underworld. There were times I hated you. Felt you deceived me. There were times I hated myself, for allowing you into my sacred soul. There were times I loved you. Wanted to save you from yourself. There were times I loved myself. Felt strong and deep and whole.
I remember you, thru my femme fatale eyes... I don't quite know what I felt then. Wanting to give you danger, life, risk. Wanting to show you freedom, drag you from the confines of your little world. I gave it. I lured you into my underworld. There were times I craved you. Wanted to show you how a woman Fucked. There were times I craved myself. Wanted to feel at home within my skin, my bones. There were time I needed you. Wanted to own my own soul, to understand. There were times I needed myself. Wanted to return to my innocence.
I told you I'd write you a poem. And this one doesn't rhyme. Sometimes It takes a different style, a different voice, to share what we find. Somehow you have been woven into my life, woven in and out of scenes and dreams. Always reappearing at the crossroads. Did I ever imagine you would be a constant symbol on my path....showing up when I least expected to find you? Did I ever imagine you would trade your darkness for the light, grasping for truth, craving deliverance, sustenance, salvation? Did I ever imagine you would bask in your role as father, nourisher, provider, redeemer?
I told you I'd write a poem for you. A different kind of poem than the poems I wrote long ago. A poem filled with experience, with living and loving and coming together and coming apart and coming over and over and over again in many beds and in many scenes and in many dreams of things between the seen and unseen burial mound of things freed and things redeemed. I imagine you now, alone. Solitude! Aloneness. There is nothing more beautiful, to know oneself. To understand the magic within, to anticipate the patterns and habits and mind-traps, and to remove the obstacles from your path. Growth. Evolution. From Youth to Wisdom. From Faith to Understanding. Don't walk blindly, the road is peopled with parts of you, parts of your life, parts of your truth. Wake every cell, wake every mourning dream, take everything given you and Breathe.
I told you I'd write a poem for you. There is so much more I could say, so many things and feelings and memories wrapped around the images in my soul. In my heart. There are many roads, and they all lead to Self. There are many dreams, and they all lead to Life. In my heart, you are whole. You are the Waker, the Taker, the Thief. You are the Faker, the Breaker, the Jester. You are the piece of me that spoke to me of possibilities and ether dreams. A decade has passed, or more, since our lives were interwoven. A decade of different stories and dreams and lovers and smiles and fears and tears and things left unsaid... This is the poem I told you I'd write, scribbled out in rouge, bled from the heart beating, within me, a rich pomegranate red.
There is really nothing more to say when we come back to that beginning of all beginnings that is nothing at all. Only when you begin to lose the Alpha or Omega do you want to start to talk and to write, and then there is no end to it, words, words, words. At best and most they are perhaps in memoriam, evocations, conjurations, incantations, emanations, shimmering, iridescent flares in the sky of darkness, a just still feasible tact, indiscretions, perhaps forgivable….
City lights at night, from the air, receding, like these words, atoms each containing its own world and every other world. Each a fuse to set you off…
If I could turn you on, if I could drive you out of your wretched mind, if I could tell you I would let you know.
RD Laing ‘Bird of Paradise’
Back and forth Ive gone, trying to decide which framework to use to tell my story, to evoke my past selves, to conjure the spirits of my composted dead….the spells of words, words, words to wrangle language into incantation and summon sensation from the tangled threads. Best to start from the beginning, so there is proper context for the cycles and patterns. My intention is to psychologically and astrologically deep-dive through the mythic landscapes of my narrative, as well as using Dreams and other dimensional experiences…..and journals and poetry that span my life…….creating a Quantum Astropsychography.
This is really an extended Uranus opposition Ritual, a systematic series of inner journeys into the deeply buried memories that are tangled up in the fascia of my body and in deep underground psychic gulag that holds soul shards, waiting for my return and to be released from their Prizm Cells. 18 months approximately of transits that will shake up the structures of my life and ego once again, so that I can be patchworked back together in a more meaningful way, ready to start the next leg of my journey of embodiment here. I must let go of it all. Surrender the moments and mysteries and experiences that have sculpted me. And start anew, as a sovereign Self in the playground…..ready to create and to embrace all that Life asks of me in this new reality (with its ever-more-shaky foundation). Pluto into aquarius, is bringing the reflection of a way of life that will rapidly become unrecognizable. My sons descendant is 2′ aquarius and his 5 planet stellium in early aquarius opposing natal saturn has me open-eyed waiting for what magic and transformation he will undergo over the next decade. He just turned 18. I cant help but be nervous, knowing all too well the many plutonic crisis’ that define my own life journey. And wondering what sort of games the lord of the underworld has in store.
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I have watched sons Claim Their names beneath The sun, I have seen the same Done To me, I have been a child I have been a whore I have been a maniac Knocking on gods door, And in the neon The glow The bliss that sometimes We know I have melted like Wax And my heart has Dripped right Through The cracks in your Floor.
“As adults, we have forgotten most of our childhood, not only its contents but its flavor; as men of the world, we hardly know of the existence of the inner world” we barely remember our dreams, and make little sense of them when we do; as for our bodies, we retain just sufficient proprioceptive sensations to coordinate our movements and to ensure the minimal requirements for biosocial survival- to register fatigue , signals for food, sex, defecation, sleep; beyond that, little or nothing. Our capacity to think, except in the service of what we are dangerously deluded in supposing is our self-interest and in conformity with common sense, is pitifully limited: our capacity even to see, hear, touch, taste, and smell is so shrouded in veils of mystification that an intensive discipline of unlearning is necessary for anyone before one can begin to experience the world afresh, with innocence, truth and love.”
RD Laing ‘the politics of experience’
Many years ago when I was about 21 I discovered RD Laing ‘The Divided Self’ , which was one of many valuable books I read that helped me be comfortable with my psychological state and the way I navigated the world. Recently I picked up his book ‘The Politics of Experience’ and within the first chapter he brilliantly articulates what became obvious to me way back as a teenager. But on the eve of starting the deep dive into my own life via autobiographical storytelling, and the eve of my sons 18th birthday, I read some passages that really capture my reasons for making the decisions Ive made in my own childrearing and in all aspects of my life. Early on I saw the truth of the above quotation, and I vowed never to be the ‘normal man’. Ever since I can remember, my first memories are realizations that I was ‘mad’ and not like the creatures around me. As I got a little older, the fact of madness haunted me. Just beyond the curtain of everyday life, the Madwomans Whisper called to me, beckoning me to follow into realms little understood, and which excited me, yet also left me vulnerable to the alienation of the common crowd. And instead of cowering in the face of madness, I have done my best to live out my truth in defiance of the mediocrity of modern expression. Ive raised my son to be a sovereign individual willing and able to step away from the consensus, with confidence in acting in a manner far from the ‘maddening crowd’.
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“What we call “Normal” is a product of repression, denial, splitting, projection, introjection, and other forms of destructive action on experience. ..It is radically estranged from the structure of Being.
The more one sees this, the more senseless it is to continue with generalized descriptions of supposedly specifically schizoid, schizophrenic, hysterical ‘mechanisms’.
There are forms of alienation that are relatively starnge to statiscially ‘normal’ forms of alienation. The ‘normally’ alienated person, by reason of the fact that he acts more or less like everyone else, is taken to be sane. Other forms of alienation that are out of step with the prevailing stage of alienation are those that are labeled by the ‘ normal’ majority as bad or mad.
The condition of alienation, of being asleep, of being unconscious, of being out of one’s mind, is the condition of the normal man’.
Society highly values its normal man. It educates its children to lose themselves and to become absurd, and thus to be normal.
Normal men have killed perhaps 100,000,000 of their fellow normal men in the last fifty years.
Our behavior is a function of our experience. We act according to the way we see things.
If our experience is destroyed, our behavior will be destructive.
If our experience is destroyed, we have lost our own selves.”
RD Laing ‘the politics of experience’
How we experience ourselves and the world around us, including other beings, shapes how we act and how we think and how we create structures to contain our lifeforce. Our experience has been intentionally manipulated. The fog of delusion that humanity lives within is imperceptible to the average person, except through the vague feeling-sense of what is missing. In performing a ‘retrospective’ of my life, up to this point, at 43 years old, I intend to do soul retrieval to all those sparks of Life and Self that are trapped in the psychic gulag of my hologenetic Body of Experience. The act of re-entering these spaces, to free these selves, and to articulate and tell the story of my own Mythological existence, is to do my part in reMembering Wholeness. It is my Gift to the larger Body that I exist within, to tell my story and to untangle the knots of energy that bind my power to old dreams and dramas and to deliver my own Self as the birth pains of Sovereignty make any other life impossible. Theres no way out but in. Into the Body, into the Cellves, into the tIssues and into the Fascia which is the crystalline template holding the seed.
Ive been waiting for this day, and this time, to begin this process of birth……been holding out for the ritual moment. And here I am…..Exactly to the minute of the official birth time 18 years ago today, of my one and only child in this reality. My son turns 18 ……RIGHT NOW. I live my life in the borderland of the Imaginal Realm, and arrange important things in such a way that I honor the Kairos of Life. Ive been on a quickening descent over the past year, at least, preparing for the major milestone of Uranus opposition, in my case the Sun is exactly conjunct natal Uranus, so this huge transit will be powerful on many levels. Other major transits all lining up at this time to make the whole next 18 months a dance on the edge of sanity.
My son turns 18, officially an adult in this game now. Almost an entire nodal cycle since he came thru my watery womb into his own notion of Self. I became a Mother in that same moment, bearing the beauty and the burden of Other, in such an intense manner. So now, as he spiritually accepts the mantle of responsibility for his own life and sovereignty, I also Birth My Self……..into a new reality. I will always be Mother, but as of this moment, internally, the Spiritual Birth Canal opens…..and I ceremonially swim through with a vow of sovereignty and Intent to transform myself into the next stage of my evolution.
Something that has been pursuing me for years, has caught up, and holding me hostage. Something that I made a contract to complete in the space between lives, where patterns and matter play with possibility. Ive been hunted and can no longer evade this undertaking. Writing has always been my deepest love. And my deepest need…..to express…..to articulate in the magic of language, the powerful spaces my spirit dances in. At heart I am a storyteller. And I have lived a life on the edge of the chasm, never fully part of this world. At 43, as the Kundalini Serpent stirs once again, I feel my Mind and Personality turning to mush as the Cocoon forms itself around me, creating space for transfiguration. My greatest blessing has been the opportunity to face all of my life cycles consciously, always perched upon the precipice of paradox. From this moment forward, I make the deep commitment to start writing out my life stories thus far, this quantum astropsychography. So many things to say and to capture, part of the reason it has taken so long. Or perhaps its just divine timing, and this project will be what carries me thru the event of this sacred birth of Self into the world. Letting go of distractions, Surrendering to the task at hand.
The Madwomans Whisper has been taunting me for many years, pulling me toward spaces that threaten to consume me entirely, but I know that it is the voice of my Daimon, who cares not for my human frailties and failures, but drags me incessantly toward greater creativity and embodiment, regardless of the strain on my physical vessel. I have felt more and more that I am going to implode completely, if I do not start tearing the scabs from my wounds and weaving the words as a magic talisman to take me through the portal. My natal blueprint, its all there. The trickster who straddles the boundary of the mortal and immortal worlds. The Divine undertaking, to so fully strip myself bare in front of the world that there is nothing left under this skin that has not been exposed to the light. The Gulags, my psychic landscape that holds fractal selves hostage, deep within the knots of timeSpace that demand a prism break. I know now how to release them, how to deFragment, how to Come To Terms with Self. Ive carried these seeds for lifetimes. It is Time, Now, to plant them into the Soil of the Souls SalveAtIon.
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