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To my former boyfriend:

I apologize for calling you with every single epiphany I had following our breakup, hoping I could somehow patch us up so I could go right back to my comfort zone. I’m sorry for holding you responsible for my unhappiness and absent sense of self years ago. I apologize for my neediness, petty jealousies, and insecurities. Like my role models, I poured every ounce of me into you instead of filling myself up, then blamed you when I felt empty and joyless. I was so uncomfortable by myself that I couldn’t stay out of your grille, had to stave off the silence so I wouldn’t have to feel the painful and confusing emotions threatening to rise up and break on the surface. I couldn’t let you see them, I was afraid you would see my scars and be repulsed with my imperfection. I couldn’t just be with you. I couldn’t just be in my body with you when we had sex, I couldn’t give up that control or allow pleasure or deep connection because you might find me out if I showed any vulnerability. I believed I was broken but I couldn’t admit it to you, so I projected my fears onto you as a distraction and wore my Ice Bitch face when you gently mirrored them back at me. How could I have known it wouldn’t kill me to dip my toes into that sea of pain in me if I couldn’t see the bottom? I didn’t know who I was without it or what I was here for, so I couldn’t possibly trust who you were, even though you demonstrated your integrity time after time, your kindness, patience, commitment, Love. I am sorry for not knowing what I didn’t know, and for injuring you from my lack of consciousness.

I understand now why you had to leave, why you couldn’t allow yourself to be absorbed by my pain. It must have been crazy-making; it must have taken so much out of you to marinade in that with me for so long, to be my friend while I treated you like the enemy.  It must have required incredible resolve to stand on your right to be happy and free and not wrong because I was incapable of meeting you where you were. What torturous bullshit you endured just trying to love me.

Your leaving shattered me.  On that day the tide came in and pulled me out with it. I was lost at sea.  I treaded water for most of a year, barely keeping up with my obligations at work, avoiding my friends and family, taking care of the bare minimum at home. There was nowhere I looked that pain wasn’t. I cried every day for eight months straight. I wrote, I screamed, I beat up my couch, I sought out a counselor. I forgot to feed myself for days on end. I couldn’t sleep, the bed was too big without you in it. I felt discarded, useless, forgotten.

The pain seeped in through the cracks and I finally grieved my father after eight years; the one I no longer had as well as the one I never had; the one who wasn’t there to protect me or instill a sense of worthiness in his little girl. I made my family talk about painful memories and answer pointed questions until I understood why and how. I received an apology I never expected. I howled at the walls and my abusers, my neglectors, and myself. I heaved great gulping sobs, and when I was done I gagged and threw up until I felt like I was turning inside out.  I studied my ancestors. I read old letters.  I read new books hoping to find a key that would unlock the door to joy again.  All I found were broken pieces, fragments floating.

On my counselor’s advice, I adopted my inner child and took her everywhere with me so I could see my world through her eyes again. I cradled my innocence gently and felt her tiny heartbeat. I watched her progress on wobbly legs.  She showed me the things that threatened her, the things I’d endured because I didn’t know I had a choice, the unconscious actions and projections of the adults around me, the times when her best interests weren’t respected.  I learned to recognize her tug on my sleeve when something didn’t feel right. I came to understand why I’d spent so much time with a sore throat as a child… I wasn’t allowed a voice. I vowed to create a safe environment for her by not taking unnecessary risks with myself and my resources, and I protected her fiercely this time. I fed her nutritious foods. I cleansed and purged toxins from my body. I drank life-affirming water. I allowed her to express all of her emotions; her deepest sorrow, her exuberant joy. I let her sing at the table if she wanted to, and I stood witness to her unbearable pain. I forgave her for being smaller and weaker and for not knowing better and she in turn forgave me for abandoning her. I rocked her to sleep and was humbled in the silence by her resilience, her sheer strength of will. I honored her right over her body, and my own. Together we practiced saying ‘No’, without guilt. I discovered new-to-me memories that changed old story lines, I presented her with new evidence from a more mature perspective. We learned to trust each other. She conceded Brussels sprouts weren’t that bad.

Then my warrior came to call, and he was offended and disgusted that I’d had him out fighting petty wars and dramas for me. He deserved a legitimate cause to campaign for; he wanted his dignity and honor back. I acknowledged his grievances with humility and gave him some well-deserved time off until I could find a crusade worthy of his skills. I dreamed terrible dreams of being stalked by shadowy men in trenchcoats. In the light of day I looked my fears in the face and asked them why. Their answers seemed weak and insignificant against what we’d already come through, so I sent them to find something more substantial and they haven’t come back.

I looked for myself in the mirror every day until I found her and thanked her for sticking by me all these years even when I didn’t see or acknowledge her. She assured me we would always be alright – even when we didn’t think so – and she would always be here for me. I softened. I spent time with other wounded women who were searching for themselves and discovered I was also worthy of my respect. They offered me validation and lent me their courage and their stories for perspective. I let down my defenses. I embraced being female and stopped carrying it like a burden, found my rhythm and learned to use my cycles to my advantage. I went to introduce myself to the Goddess but she knew I was coming. She met me at the door holding a severed head and offered me tea at her table. I accepted her invitation, offered my allegiance for taking vengeance on my enemies, and accepted her sustenance with relief.

I wrote, and I dreamed, and I cried until exhausted, I washed up on shore. I awoke with hunger pains deep in the belly of my soul and searched around for something to feed it. It was good to be on solid ground but I found no nourishment.. I combed the beach scavenging scattered bits of my Self and took stock. It seemed hopeless. I curled up and cried for some kind of relief. I held my head and screamed at the injustice of it all. I jumped up and threw stones until my body ached. I slept, exhausted, defeated. At daybreak I stood facing the waves and asked why I would have chosen this experience.  At sunset I heard the answer come back on the wind, “This isn’t happening TO you — it’s happening FOR you.”  My soul digested that and it was satisfied.

What a game-changing perspective! I needed a sturdier vessel that could withstand any storm. I took ownership of my new project. I enlarged my search and discovered stronger and better materials for the frame. I retrofitted some old ones for the sake of nostalgia and continuity. I fashioned new tools. I reevaluated my inventory and set everything useful to one side. In a frenzy I gathered up armfuls of broken fragments and threw them into the waves, letting the tide take whatever didn’t fit my plan.  I cut myself on sharp pieces and doctored them myself with salt water. I forgave. I let go. I bled. I honored each piece like an old friend as I watched it hit the water. I found reasons to appreciate all of it. I said my goodbyes and then I started rebuilding. I remembered my weak points and reinforced them with greater integrity, picked up joy and gratitude whenever I found it and used it to patch holes. I framed in portholes to let in the Light. At night I danced with my demons on the beach under the full moon and I was not afraid. I used sand to knock down the rough edges on the bow. I stretched every part of my body in the sun and allowed Light to flood my cells with new awareness. I bathed in the healing waters and floated on their surface, and was not swallowed by pain. My confidence grew. I stood back and admired my work. I talked to the moon at night and stared into the sun when dawn came. I experimented with my creation and made adjustments as necessary. I tested her integrity. I built a more secure wheelhouse when the rain poured in. I laughed into the wind. I honored the process and all the pieces -even the ones I threw away – knowing that all of them contributed to the outcome of my design… and I was grateful for the opportunity.  

I have a fine boat that I’m still finishing. Sometimes I have to scrap some and start over, but I’m not afraid to put her on the water, and I’m no longer concerned with losing myself to the sea.

In deepest gratitude,
E

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Grateful

You know how when you’re going through something rough and someone from your past turns up and reminds you of what is possible, of where you’ve already been, what you’re capable of, that they believe in you and love you, and recognize your value and contribution to them and the world?

I am deeply grateful for that.

I’ve smoked up all my cigarettes
Beneath the hazy moon
Read some things that made me cry
Reminded me of you
I know I’ve cried a bucket
And I bet you’ve got one too
Wish you could see
What I see, when I can see you

I’ve offered love and freedom
(Within reason) to your soul
You’ve traded it to build a cell
You hide up in that hole
Afraid that you’re not good enough
For all the world to see
You can’t locate your happiness
So your jailer must be me

You want the things that move me
To move in your soul too
But won’t allow you to believe
That YOU are worthy. You.
So you halt my spirit’s singing
With a word, a glare, a threat
And set about to clip my wings
So I can’t leave you. Yet.

You ask me to be happy
In your cage alongside you
You’re threatened by the slightest
Peek outside to see the view
Don’t want you to be lonely
So I sit in here most nights
Pining for my happy friends
And Joy and Love and Light

While you beat yourself against the bars
And poison up your mind
With news and views of imbeciles
With no love for mankind
I can only take so much
Your story isn’t mine
I won’t share your victim’s perch
You see, I’ve done my time

I’ve found a secret passageway
That exists inside my mind
With petroglyphs of a golden bird
Her long wings laced with fire
While right now she may be burning
In a white hot intense heat
She’s not inside a fucking cage
And holding her own key

~ E

 

 

 

 

 

 

Humility.  Courage.  Integrity.  Values.

He wants to be a better man, father, human, mate, and takes the necessary steps to do that.

Every crossroads in your life – every – decision has natural consequences. The more data you collect by observing and learning, the better prepared you are to move in a direction that suits who you are and who you want to be.

This is no dress rehearsal, this is the Big Show. Your decisions carry weight in the outcome of your life. Do you want to like yourself? Do you want to go to bed at night with a clear conscience and a peaceful feeling that you’re doing the best you can, that you’re capable of handling what life deals you? Then make conscious decisions and stop living by default and letting other people, groups, politics, or religion set the tone and pace of your life. No one else is invested in your best outcome or knows you like you do. It has to be You. You have to want what’s best for you, or you’re giving your power away. Don’t complain about the direction you’re going if you’re handing someone else the keys at every crossroads. Take ownership of your life.

∞E

Most beautiful Mothers Day ever

Breakfast in bed
Hot baths and candles
Romantic cards
Back rubs
Front rubs
Flowers
Notes
Truth
Trust
Sugars

“At some point, you have to stop pushing against that. Pushing against what the Universe is trying to show you. Pushing against the facts that are presenting themselves, in your face. Things can transpire, but holding on for dear life is never part of the formula, it’s a demonstration that you aren’t trusting the universe. When something is meant for you, it comes easily! You don’t have to hold onto it for dear life and hope it does not slip away! The Universe does not make you beg for what is rightfully yours! So, if something is just not sticking to you, if it’s just too difficult to maintain, that is the Universe’s way of telling you that, that thing does not belong in your field. We are meant to have everything that we want, but you have to let it come to you. If you do not believe in the Universe’s ability to deliver, you will never experience the truth of it.”

The Twin Flame & Lightworker Resource

Everything is channeled. “I”, “We”, it is all the same in a unified Universe.

Is this about me being happy, or what??

beautiful-dreamy-flowers-love-photography-Favim.com-457887

Fireworks, overwhelming magnetic attraction, chemistry that keeps you feening for more, romance, passionate roller coaster rides, undying infatuation and obsession over an ideal that doesn’t exist, but just won’t quit.

It’s like the ultimate ride. Good, bad and everything in between, being inspired to deeper levels of love than you thought was humanly possible.. well, it just makes it hard to let go. It’s true, Intense connections are something we in inately long for, but they are truly hard to come by. Deep inside, we are all passionate creatures and we naturally want to be inspired to experience the greatest depths of love, beauty and connection… So, when we do experience it, we tend to hold onto it…

We are emotional creatures. Creative creatures, we are made from the…

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No one has ever gone to such great lengths to please me.
He goes out of his way to make it easy for me to relax because he knows I have a hard time shutting off my mind.
Hammocks, hanging chairs, candlelight, moon gazing, soft lighting, wind chimes, music, color…  He gets it.  He gets me.

Body’s workin on empty
Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?
I just think about my baby
I’m so full of love I could barely eat
There’s nothing sweeter than my baby
I never want once from the cherry tree
Cause my baby’s sweet as can be
She give me toothaches just from kissin me

– Hozier, Work Song

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