As Ketu moves into the 14th gate….edging over the next little while toward an exact conjunction with my exact sun/Uranus conjunction in Scorpio 1st house… this dream from last year on this date is so prescient…as I am been catapulted into an in depth intense and CATHARtic journey into my own Codings and Woundings, serpentine spine Wound Round by Time as Mind implodes.
Ketu always brings release. If one doesn’t give willingly, it will rip away in whatever way it needs. It’s time. Remembering is just as painful as the DisMembering….more so if the original trauma/s were Blocked or Disassociated from. But to Feel is yo Become Real. Said the velveteen Rabbit.
*the number 14 has been synchronously penetrating into my world over and over and over in the past 6 months. It’s in key 14. 14 is the key.
{Last nights Dreamtime: while handling many rattlesnakes and attempting to remove them From a room in someone else’s house….I analyze the connection to the stargates of the 64 Codons I.e hexagrams I.e squares on the chessboard …. and in particular my own internal relation to the 14th hexagram I.e Gate and the amino acid lysine. I find myself overlayed then in two different Dreamtime spaces at once, as if the intense focus along with the very ‘handling of the serpents’ creates an Opening into the gate itself. I awaken repeating over and over ‘it’s in key 14’
Photo by Kevin Stiles, model Jade Brannon, dress by Charleen Johnston
Let your heart break. Let it bleed. Let it ache. Let all its pieces fall to the floor at your feet. Let the tears flow. Let yourself fall to your knees. Let the pain become physical. Let yourself live in a way where your heart is allowed to be broken. By this, I don’t mean put your heart in harm’s way and fail to care for its welfare. I don’t mean date people who are difficult to love and pretend it doesn’t matter when they throw you out like the day’s trash. I don’t mean orchestrate your life in a way where your needs aren’t being met or you lack the feeling of love and support. I don’t mean neglect to put yourself first and position yourself as someone else’s proverbial punching bag. I don’t mean choose self-destruction over self-construction. What I mean is this: don’t be ashamed if you love hard and it falls apart. Don’t buffer the fact that your heart shattered to pieces. Don’t hide it, lie about it, shy away from it, or deny it. Don’t avoid an important experience for fear that you’ll get hurt. Don’t look away from it when someone else is in pain, or when someone you love is suffering beyond your comprehension. Don’t mask it, ignore it, downplay it or try to escape from it. Don’t think for a second that it is wrong for your heart to be breaking. If your heart is broken — let it be broken. Let it all fall apart. Because there’s more than enough sorrow in this damn world that should, and will, eviscerate your heart. I’m not just talking about your first love walking away, or your partner of 10 years deciding they want to be with someone else. I’m not just talking about losing a job or not getting into your college of choice. I’m talking about things like watching a loved one die after months of suffering — or, on the other hand, having them die so suddenly you didn’t get the chance to say goodbye. Losing a child that you loved more than anything, or losing a child before you had the opportunity to even get to know them. Knowing that someone was abused, belittled and beaten because of the color of their skin or their sexual preference. Finding out that someone who means the world to you has spent their whole life in a perpetual state of self-loathing. Watching someone slowly die from the inside out and being utterly unable to change it. Loss, destruction, inequality, unforgivable acts of violence, unimaginable amounts of pain — you’re never at a loss for reasons to be heartbroken. And you have to let it in; you have to let the hurt come through. Because trust me: it’ll only eat you from the inside out if you don’t.
Let yourself feel the pain. Pain changes you. It transforms you. It softens you and hardens you at the same time. It breeds wisdom and humility. It puts things into perspective. It allows you to feel more empathy and compassion. It heightens your standards and lowers your guard. You’ll never be the same; you’ll never go back to who you were before the breakdown, and that’s on purpose. That’s how it’s supposed to be. It means you’ve grown. It means you cared about someone or something enough to get hurt. It means you put your precious heart into the way you live and love and approach significant situations in your life. It means it all meant something. ⠀ If you’ve ever caught a glimpse of death, and just a tiny glimpse will do, you’ll know that none of the other shit matters. The status, the achievement, the money, the need to keep impressing people you don’t even know — none of that means one iota in the larger scheme of things. The only thing that truly matters is that you loved and that you loved hard. And when you put your heart on the line, it opens itself up, and it also gets beat up. That’s how it all works. That also means you’re doing something right. Keep going.
Four Hours in this waking reality Time-frame Of intense Somatic Trigger Point Pain Bodywork and Descent Into the Inner musculature and armature And inPrizmMent Of my StoriesInTimeSpace Trapped and held In my Shape Navigating landscapes I had Forgotten But which had not Forgotten Me Twisting into the aching pain Of the waking strain Of aeons Of Trying to See And Dying to Be Free To Bleed The Agony and the Ecstasy Of nonLinear Destiny Wrapped around the core So tight We cannot fail To recognize The Fight We locked away In Prizm Cells In Somatic Shells that protect The Seed As dramatic deeds and Infected Dreams Plead To be Released from these Semiotic Seams
I cried as the Memories of Me~s I’ve tried to hide Spoke again From the infinite fractal Face of wide-eyed Time In a Space I created In Order To wake the blind Embryos Of Selves in Sides Of Chaotic crimes So they could swim free In rising tides Of harmony As I unBind them In this fugue of MyStory Mysteriously unfolding Before Me
What is Woman? What should Woman be? Seems there are an infinity of answers, an unending barrage of ‘shoulds’ and ‘should nots’ attached to the archetype of Woman. There are thousands of books out there, and papers, articles, essays….all on what it means to be Woman, where the roots of Woman are, what the future of Woman will be. Woman in Relationship; Woman as Mother; Woman as Daughter; Woman as Newly liberated. All just archetypal relationships of energy. Points of light dancing on a blueprint. What does Woman FEEL like? What does it FEEL like to Be Woman? When I stretch my body and feel the nerves awaken, the muscles loosen, the blood flowing, I feel the Primal Womanity spread thru my being, touching everything within and around me with a fire that can be too intense to name, too generalized to capture, too strong to ignore. When I run, footstep by footstep upon the Earth or upon the dark armor of pavement that strangles the Earth….I pound out the rhythm of my strength…my endurance…my desire. I am in balance, carried by the amazing strength and intent of my legs….those pillars that exist to connect me with physicality in a way that is dynamic and delightful. With every inhale I accept into me the Breathing of Gaia and of all who have borrowed oxygen from Her since the first moment of carnal experience. With every exhale I give back that which is not mine, but which has filled me with the potential to Feel and to Move and to Think and to Smile. This dance of breath, over time, brings a calm, fluid expanse of blue to my bones, to my blood, and to my aura……the Woman I Am Playing at Being is quickening her pace, soaring with the wind of thought and mind and communication….but on a level that is unspoken, indirect, unperturbed,content with indistinct flow. When I make masters of my hands and set them to the task of patchworking a multitude of found and loved and used and old and outworn objects and fabrics and things together into new personalities, new beings, new symbols of the creative spirit……I worship the Woman of my soul….I allow her to speak thru me in ways that are unique and true, fun and playful, wise and foolish both. With every stitch I set an intention to Love. With every seam I am becoming aware of my relationship to Each and to All. With every color I make a statement of what I see in the moment, how I feel in this particular flash of eternity.
When I draw, She draws thru me….she moves the contour of my pen like she moves the contour of my world……making space where there is none, opening doors where stagnation has set. When I laugh, it is Woman who cackles…..deep belly laughter coming from someplace ancient, yet futuristic, yet HereNow….Present…….a laughter that has no fear, no self consciousness, no agenda, no apologies. I like laughter that is unrestrained, inappropriate, uncouth, taboo, deep and wide, harsh and shrieking, anything that comes from that endless well within which the madwoman gathers her nourishment. When I smile, I am a doorway for Woman. I am a light that shines, makes it ok to OpenWide…..to be filled with Joy. When I smile, I am giving to you. I am telling you…..Woman is Here…..Naked and Alive…..please come in! When I cook I am transforming energies….an alchemy of fire and taste and sacrifice and honor. I am Woman feeding the World from her Body. When I dance I am Her…..I move like tendrils, like serpents in the agony of ecstasy. I dance to Become Myself. To Become Woman That I AM. I am in a different state….an alternative mode of being……the whispers within me become a chant and my body moves….purposeful but without agenda, intense but without direction. Fluid but contained. Passionate yet serene. I am a Muscle of Bliss……swaying to the rhythm of the blood that carves its path out in the rivers of my Body.
When I make love, I am Woman. Feverish. Fire. Wet Pulsating mass of wide open nerves and cells and points of light and waves of bliss. I am Here. Fully. But also There. Inside the Mouth of Woman. I am channel. I am no longer personal. I am Priestess. The Flame guides me, sings me……my Body. Woman. Conduit. Portal. Woman. Burning. Crying out. Articulating. Gesticulating. Giving. Worshipping. Body. of Man. of Woman. of Infinity. I will take you in…you are amorphous mass dissolving in my cauldron of heat….of vibrating muscle memory, of oscillating frequencies of Bliss and Pleasure. The Tantrika. The Initiator. Come in and Play. With Woman. When I fuck, I am goddess. I am demon. I am of the underworld. Of heaven. I am paradox. I am terribly frightening in my devotion. Terrifying in my strength. Beautiful in my Body. Inhabited. In touch….with every corpuscle and every hair….I am moving. Moving. Woman. Trembling. Woman. Touching. Woman. Caressing. Woman. I honor the body of Man. I honor the body of Woman. I honor the body of Earth. I honor the body of Form and the unbody of formlessness. I drink you. I eat you. I melt you with the heat of a billion suns and let your Self be re-formed and cooled in the satiating waters of reflection and assimilation. When I invite you in, I tantalize; every sense is used and every limb is a tool of touch and taste. Woman. Feeling the fire rise…….lead by the breath…systematic patterns….coaxing particular passions and pleasures……depends on the rhythm…..everything Connected….Give in…LET GO…..LET GO…..BE WOMAN…..LET GO….Surrender to your Primal Raw Wild Abandon. No apologies. No shame. No limits. No guilt. No control. No agenda. Be. Beautiful. HumanButNotHuman. Dark Dakini calls you down. I am Her. Inhabit yourself. Inhabit Woman. Draw Her down into your sacred skin and bones. Maker Her Alive. Live on the edge of Her. Every touch errogenous. Every murmur a blessing. Every scream a sonnet. Every Orgasm a Prayer. A Prayer. A prayer. Every climax a Chant. That is your moment. That Moment. Is. WOMAN. Release. Woman. at Ease. Woman. in that Moment of Woman, the Universe is Womb. What you hold in your mind, in your heart, in your body, in your soul, at that very Moment of Climax, of Womanness, you send out into the Ethers…..it will be enlarged and given substance, and made dense……..and be of your World. Focus those energies of Woman. Let them be centered in Love and Joy and Respect and Harmony and Acceptance and Tolerance. That moment, and the dance that becomes It, are….for me….what Woman means. A woman with no connection to Body, to Heart, to Passion, to Sexuality, to Fire, to Sweat, to Absurdity, to Primal Wild Raw Energy and Excitement…..is……not Woman. Woman exists in man too. Woman is palpable, tangible yet diffuse…..erotic in every aspect of Life…….tinges the world with a golden aura of enthusiasm, exertion and incredible connections with Source and FragmentsOfSource.
I choose to Burn in the Flames. I choose to Feel the Pain. I choose to writhe in agony and in ecstasy, as the moment dictates. I would not trade my tenderness or my strength, I would not trade my lows and my darkness and my underworld soul for a life of flatline emotion, or unmoved calm.
I feel it all I feel it all. I am Woman. I heed the call.
BlissNinja 