Deeper - Into - The Mystic

photo ©akka b.

On the heel of hell, I had the epiphany one might expect to have - on the heel of hell...  tip toeing around who I really am, has been backfiring. It's that simple.

I was crying like a poet last week. With all the passion, fury, longing, aching, loving, searching that a poet is made of - that we all are made of. Pounding down the door of my heart for answers to the flood of emotion and simultaneous stagnation I've been grappling with. Calling out to for understanding of my conundrum, all while sliding deeper into the mess pouring forth from my own impish behavior... The louder I call, the deeper I fall. WAIT! IT'S MY OWN IMPISH BEHAVIOR! That's the answer! I've been wading in 'the answer' this whole time. Ugh. 

Simple, but subtle - but "subtle" is not that simple when your mind is caught in the muck. The outline I've created for myself artistically is correct and leaps and bounds from where I was a few years ago. I've been making art, and words, and public speaking, and producing events, and engaging socially, and trying new things, but without a full commitment to who I am. It's like I have one finger pressed firmly on the 'off' button, while the other finger is holding fast to the one that turns it all 'on.'  

Being half ones own greatness is pure hell. You would think it might suffice in a pinch. But a pinch doesn't last very long. Being half of what and who you are meant to be - keeps you always living at the half-way point. Half-way here, half-way there - stuck in the middle. Sort of good, sort of bad, - mostly mediocre. Everything is partially working, partially broken, but. not. going. anywhere. 

Fear is my go-to vice, when standing on the precipice of my full power. What would happen if I were fully empowered - If I gave myself permission to thrive? Is it so scary? Is it worse than being at the halfway point?

There is living in me, a mystic, a healer, a lover, a child, a mother - a poet. All the elements of my sweet insides depend on one another. If I deny one part of me, the other is thrown off balance and I suffer and you know what? Those around me suffer too.

Standing on the precipice is so - 1999. 

Now is the time, to 'let it' work. 

And let the "work" - be sacred.

'Let it be wild, let it be weeds, let it be - sacred weeds.'

Stay tuned... 

A Poem of Dancing Burden

© akka b.

Sink now into your heart Dear One.
You've been riding the shoulders of your own calm
These strange and heavy days; climb down.

Release yourself of the burden that is you.
Allow thyself - dissolve, 

Into the calm and strangest place;
The most wondrous of every place, by every magnitude.
You've been dancing around the calm,
These strange and heavy days;
 

Now is time for letting...

The    Calm    Dance    You.

Leap of sQuirrel

There was a THUMP! 

A sQuirrel landed on the eve of the house near where I was working in the grass. (Yes, sometimes I work in the grass). He was a big fatty of a bloke determined to reach the tree branch above my head. I didn't measure, but the limb must have been a good 10 feet or more from the eve. He knew it too. As I watched him assess the distance - perched on the very edge - he prepared to jump - then backed away. He did this a couple times; pacing across the small stretch of roof, considering all his options. By the way - he totally looked down; eying the distant ground where I was sitting. Hmn... ground squirrel or tree squirrel? Either choice was life or death, make it or break it kind of crazy. But this beast was not the type to bother with the long route. What he really wanted was the branch, because the branch was the gateway to a posh arboreal highway fit only for the ballsiest of the squirrel kingdom. 

Salivating for a glimpse of the impossible... I egged him on.

"JUMP - JUST DO IT!!" 

I've been wanting to JUST DO IT for a VERY long time. And I've been "egged on" by many to take certain (creative) plunges over the past months and even years. Sure, I've bounced from eve to eve navigating possibilities, but every time I get to that edge - I manage to inch myself backwards. So you may understand why I felt personally invested in the 'Leap of Faith' of this fat bushy tailed rodent. I had no fear for him - and as it turned out - he had no fear for himself either. 

HE DID IT!!! 

But it was a dang close call. If he had been off by an inch it would have been sQuirrel soup in my lap. It was a thrust-of-life-belly-flop-into-dangling-leaves-and-twigs-but-land-climbing-moment-of-brilliance! Leaves fell on my head from this raucous display of enormity and that big fat little sQuirrel even paused to watch me laugh my head off at his efforts. Biggest laugh all week!

Respect dude.

sometimes i throw tantrums

no. i really do.

sometimes people get in my way and i want to bite their ears off.

i also glare a lot.

and growl a little.

flinging under-digested weight around like a boulder.

an invisible one.

and invincible too.

i'd like to think.

anyway ~ i'm sorry if it makes you cry.

kind of.

Picking a Fight with a GLITCH

Timing.
and what if's?
maybe?

oh nevermind

I don't care
and
whatever...

but perhaps?
but damn.

or

F@#K

like a stubbed toe.

Aggravating

like a sleepless night

S__T!

Like the missed train.

oh boo-hoo, but I'm a tough ass.

it didn't hurt, but it really did.

sigh.

okay

one more time...

sigh.

absolutely

The
Bashful Goddess

knows the trees are watching
and wonders
if she should take off all her clothes?The
Goddess ABSOLUTELY

Never considered wearing them

The Tower of MORE

The Tower of MORE.

Like Jack’s beanstalk. One little seed falls to earth.

Takes hold, digs in.

One unsuspecting nugget.

Determined to grow.

Grows.

Watered with wonderings.

Bathed in any kind of light.

Yes that’s right I said ANY kind of light.

The sprout doesn’t care about particulars.

It’s very focused.

Focused.

And.

Hungry.

Focused and Hungry and Willing.

To be the vine that grows up to sky without help from fences.

It doesn’t care about greedy boys crawling on it.

Or dull giants tumbling down.

Again.

It doesn’t care about particulars.

Only one word:

MORE.

MORE than it was? Certainly. MORE than is safe? Probably. MORE than enough? Definitely.

And what will it find?

That one seed that took hold and dug in?

That one seed with oversized leaves boldly unfurling?

Unfurling in bursts of growing.

Growing in bursts of breaking through ground.

Grounded in moving while standing still.

Unstoppable.

?

beast

i'm a beast.

you heard that right.

can't be helped.

call me de/fiance for short

or

b. east

whichever.

to the crumbling edge of CLIFF

TAKING IT TO THE CRUMBLING CLIFF

negotiations with wings
  these feet dangle miles high

We are working out a deal

~~~

 
talking destiny~

into talking karma~

into taking sides~

(with my best interest mind you)

~~~

THIS MEETING PLACE
where roads fall shy
blue wind can better caress
the thing

the earthly thing

~~~

SO IF FEET ARE SO IMPORTANT FOR EARTH

then wings must be equally important for ether?

seems pragmatic

I mean, we could try walking with wings...
or flying with feet
but it might be kind of klutzy

~~~

MY FEET STILL HERE
  relish the cliff
Undecided
  on purpose

but

ninety five percent aroused by possibility

~~~

CLIFFS ARE SEXY
THAT'S WHAT I AM TRYING TO SAY