the water bearer

I love pouring my heart out into other people.

I just do. I am over the top. I will sing you songs. Write you letters. Buy you books I think you would like. I will carve out time for you in a place that feels like there’s none. I will listen thoughtfully to your troubles, help you carry them to the river as you trust the water to wash them away. I will ask for the words that lay in the deepest, forgotten back corners of your heart. I will ask for you to speak them aloud, and I will tell you mine. I will build a shelter around you so you feel safe to bare it all—shadow and light. When we lock eyes, you will hear the language only souls speak. The love I pour into you will transcend time, and you’ll know when you feel it still 15 lifetimes from now.

Yes. I love pouring my heart out into other people.

For that fact I’ve had to learn the hardest lessons in boundaries, self-worth and codependency. It was so easy filling everyone’s cup, but when it came to my own it stayed empty. I starved myself of love in the pursuit of love. The road back to myself, to my center, with not just a cup overflowing but a fountain, has been long and arduous. But I cannot doubt that I am here, swimming in a self-love and inner knowing affirmed by my ability to handle the outer chaos around me.

To fill my cup I had to be honest with myself about many things. Most especially about when I’ve given only in expectation to receive. When offerings came not from genuine love, but manipulation born from wounding and fear. To face myself, my fear, disappointment, grief and shame and sit with it, hold it and release it is my most difficult task and greatest teacher. The healing comes in waves. It’s a practice. It’s a road you walk with no tangible destination, but a feeling. I don’t walk it alone. Anytime I lean on a friend, cry on a shoulder or open up my heart to show a place unhealed, I am met with compassion. There are no words to describe the love I’ve found in my friendships. True friends, soul family, are willing to see you in all ways that you are. They put you on no pedestal. There’s no distorted vision of your being. They just see you, and that’s enough. Whoever came to your mind as I was describing this, please text or call them ASAP. Thank them. Tell them you love them too and see their light.

Back to my point—I do not desire to hold back, and I do not have to. If you are like me, a romantic, a lover, a poet, a wordsmith, a mystic, a dreamer; let your nature roam free. Work with the inner leanings of your soul rather than against. It is possible to pour your love into people and have boundaries. If someone cannot receive your love, you must redirect it back to yourself. Don’t let the rejection of your offering become a challenge to offer more, and don’t let it scare you into stopping your love. Like I said, redirect. Redirect! Redirect it back to yourself, to your family, your friends, your neighbors, your mentors, humanity.

Also pro-tip: pouring yourself doesn’t have to be a rushing waterfall. It can be a slow trickle. Until you learn more about someone. Until you build trust. Until you feel safe. Take your time. This is a lesson I learned recently, thankfully. I’ve always known “Love cannot live where there is no trust” (a quote said by Cupid from one of my favorite Greek myths). Yet there I was time and time again pouring my love into strangers who had built no trust with me. I so often let chemistry and the wonderful intoxication of connection lead me down long winding paths of up and down whirlwind romances that only led me back to myself, worn out and wishing for something more.
Things are different now. They’ve been different. It’s easier to say no. To say take it slow. To say this is what I need. To say this is not enough. It’s peaceful, and I didn’t have to sacrifice who I was. I simply became more of it. More love. More strength. More boundaries. More self-worth. More commitment to a clearer vision of what leading a good life means to me.

This world is changing rapidly with no end in sight. It’s surreal, devastating and dizzying. But please, hold onto who you are at your highest self. Hold on to your values. Hold onto what values you. If you don’t know what or who that is, be curious. Remain open to discovery. But also don’t worry about being centered all the damn time. This is not Zen 101. Nothing about the current state of the world is Zen, okay? I talk about centering a lot, but to center is to be in a moment. The action itself is fleeting, but the feeling is eternally within you and always accessible to you. A moment of reconnection while we traverse the complicated and unpredictable landscape of life that lays before us. Negative emotions come and go. Positive emotions come and go. They are not who you are. Every now and then practice reaching your center however you want to do it. Do you paint? Do you run? Do you write? Do you laugh? Do you hold your child? Do you go for a drive? Do you sing? Do you lay in a field watching the clouds slowly pass by, ignoring the ant crawling on your arm because hey, maybe he’s watching them too and you don’t mind the company? There are so many ways throughout your day to touch this part of yourself that is full of maitri (loving-kindness for oneself). The moment before or after it maybe you were crying, screaming, checked out, sulking, grieving. Whatever it was, all are okay. Truth is, you can center yourself and the absurd fact remains that although you have an entire universe inside your head, you’re simultaneously one of many little beings hurtling through space and time at inconceivable speed. So, for the time you’re here, as challenging or delightful it may be, who do you want to be?

Because I already told you about me. I love pouring my heart out into other people, and I’m learning to be more myself in a way that’s healthy. I love holding space for healing. I love seeing all of who people are, even in the darkest and deepest of ways. I love remembering the little things no one notices. I love my solitude and losing myself in my senses. I love green and being surrounded by it. I love new ideas and the buzz of brainstorming the limitless. I love storytelling. I love philosophizing over coffee. I love eating cake with my best friend at two in the afternoon just because we feel like it. I love walking in the rain. I love being vulnerable. I love so, so many things and people on this weird little planet. Finally, I love owning exactly who I am and stepping into the power I have to change my life, in both the smallest and largest of ways.

So, yeah. That’s who I am and going to be. No matter what happens.

attention

Today I finished the mandatory training we retake every 18 months. We’re tested on knowledge that keeps us qualified to do our jobs safely & proficiently. We’re reunited with people we started the job with. We’re reminded of the unknowing that came with our initial training, and what those nervous first days felt like before we were completely immersed in this lifestyle. Whenever I come back here, I plunge into a state of reflection and contemplation.

Has it really been 4 years?
Am I still happy with this job?
Am I still heading in a direction aligned with my highest good?

Yes, yes, and yes.

I’m sure my contemplative state also has something to do with the beautiful views of the mountains that surround Salt Lake City. (Perfect for gazing at while tapping into the innermost parts of your soul, even in a place as frenzied as an airport.) So, I asked myself a big question—Am I comfortable with myself completely on my own?

Yes. Finally. Because in that moment I realized that sure, I’ve been on my own for 3 years, but I haven’t been independent of partnership. For 3 years I have consistently partnered myself with other people—including 3 days after a break up in 2016. (Big mistake, I do not advise that. However, if you’re looking to be triggered into healing it’s a wild, albeit painful, catapult into getting there. Kind of like the Rainbow Road of healing and shadow work. Still don’t advise it though.)

OFF TOPIC—Point is, I partnered myself to the idea of them, whether they could show up or not.

I chose:

The emotionally unavailable
Those at a physical distance (usually out of state)
People who only had sexual/physical interest in me
People who continuously showed me exactly who they were (which was Not For Me) while I ignored it

I’ve experienced more than a handful of these scenarios over the past 3 years. All with their various lessons to teach, and while I wasn’t always glad to be on the receiving end, I was always grateful. So when I say to myself now, “Hmm, I’m actually very happy on my own. I’m not sure a relationship is a high priority currently.”

My ego says, “But you’ve been single for 3 years!”

But my higher self says, “You most certainly have not. You have committed to all of those people in your past, either once or on and off again, by your choice and yours alone. You used their resistance as a form of escaping facing the resistance YOU had to looking deep within yourself and do the REAL work, the TRUE healing. You have not been single at all. You have been committed to everyone else but you.

So in all honesty, this phase feels new. A truer freedom. A more honest independence. It is a vast, lush garden in which I discover more of myself. Where I see clearly which parts need more nourishment, more Sun, more pruning, more love. As poet Mary Oliver says, “Attention is the beginning of devotion.” And so much of my attention has been on You, You, You, You and You.

No one is my escape, because I don’t need to. I don’t want to. I have no desire to not be exactly where I am. I am HERE, and while I feel I’ve dove in and out of this energy for the past two years, it wasn’t ever as stable as it is now. The grounding it’s taken me to move into this has been deep and relentless. I am doing the work, ugly and beautiful. I see myself, ugly and beautiful. I accept myself, ugly and beautiful. I am my own sanctuary, and on this Holy ground I meet myself fully and compassionately in shadow and light.

Now, my devotion is centered on evolving all parts of self in renewing connection with my higher one. My devotion is centered on creating a space to become a grander Us, as humans existing intricately and miraculously together. My devotion is centered on discovering what part I wish to play. It is perplexing and unpredictable but most of all, it is fun! And that’s how I know it’s different this time.

I can still see the mountains. I am thousands of feet above them, these sleeping giants. The sun is setting, leaving the peaks ablaze in its wake. Yeah, it’s different this time. I am paying attention.

two sides, same coin

For when I’ve been the heartbroken…

I accept your rejection. It is a blow to my ego I can more than withstand. I accept your rejection, and I wrap the wounds with gauze stitched from years of learning self-love. I accept your unwillingness, your inability, your reluctance because sometimes things just don’t “work.” This is one of the most frustrating yet incredible miracles of the human heart. (Because when it does work, it’s magic.) 

I accept your closed heart, because I know what it’s like to not be able receive what I cannot give. I accept your lust, your desire, your drive to consume me but not keep me, not SEE me. The hunger that leads you to this bed will never be satiated by flesh alone. It is deeper, wilder and more transcendent than that.

I accept you will find the love that fits you just right in another’s heart. I accept that this is no reflection of my own ability to love or be loved. I accept that I will also find the love I’m building within reflected back at me in someone else. My Person. A miracle. A human, flawed and free, probably somewhere right now laughing deeply, grinning wildly, running their hands through their hair, completely unaware of the wonder that awaits them. I accept this, even though I had wanted that Person to be you—I accept that it is not. 

For when I’ve been the heartbreaker…

I accept that you are angry, and there is no amount of poetic words I could string together to salve this hurt. I accept that you have loved me—do love me—and I have you, but I cannot stay. I accept that you may say things or do things that are reflections of your pain, and I will take responsibility for the part I’ve played in it. But I must hold this boundary, and you must let me go. I accept that I have no control over how you react or how you heal, I can only let you know I support you (and I know, even that stings).

I accept there is no simple, non-messy way to leave someone and also stay to ease the wounding. I accept I must put a distance in a sacred place where I once only wanted closeness. I accept the strange intimacy that comes with sitting in silence with you, after the tears and before I go.

I accept our friendship may never recover. I accept that time heals all wounds, but does not always deem healthy that we stay in each other’s presence. I accept that life is cyclical, and this cycle may close for this lifetime. I accept that I was happy. This was good. I was in love. I also accept that I am not anymore. But I will be again, and so will you.

This is the grieving, the unbecoming, the healing and the loving into something new. A threshold I cannot cross until I accept, all of it, in it’s heavy and holy totality.

I accept.

I accept.

I accept.

Thank you.

nouveau départ

Two fraternal scars decorate my inner ankles now. The left cut went deeper than the other—born at the same time but different. Both there all the same. I never wear those boots, but I wore them that day. As we walked around the lake you asked me if they were comfortable. A light question in a heavy conversation. Between our words the silences lingered markedly. With anyone else I would’ve said it was uncomfortable, but with us the silence is never necessarily unwanted. I’ll admit, my cards were held so close to my chest I wondered if the Queen of Diamonds would imprint onto my heart. Would that make me stronger? In truth, my only real longing was to reveal my hand—in blind faith, in devotion, in one last hope you’d reach out for it.

The material of the boots dug into me. Our feet trekked along the paved path, but where were we really?

I stared straight ahead.

I could barely look at you the entire day.

Did you notice that?

I sighed.

It was beautiful, all of it.

The lake, the birds, the people, the trees.

The way you and I were strewn out in pieces like it mattered; as if we had any chance of making this better, as if there had ever been anything to make better.

We always speak in so many words. I blame our Mercurial moons. There had never been anything to say. From the moment we met, what existed (what exists) between us was never meant to be talked about, it was meant to be felt. To be known.

And now, all we needed to do was hold each other, and then let go.

Hold, and let go.

Hold, and let go.

I wanted to stop walking, it hurt.

I wanted to stop talking, it hurt. I didn’t know it but this wound was still being made. We were picking at scabs that hadn’t even formed yet. So, you asked about my boots and I replied they were fine.

“Comfortable enough.”

All the while I was bleeding, the entire way through.

~~~

Present day

The nonfiction piece above is so different to look back on now. It is an echo of someone who was on the brink of a huge upheaval. This past me wanted so badly to focus all her attention on those around her because then she could avoid what was really happening. There was so much I was still learning, still healing, still struggling to accept. I didn’t want to see how hurt I was. How hurt I had felt my whole life and continued to let myself feel. The pain I felt had a root so much deeper than my present situation. That situation, like so many before it, was a sad symptom of many larger issues I needed to admit. Issues of self worth, self-respect, boundaries. Most of all my issues of expressing my needs/desires/truth and knowing when to leave when they didn’t align with certain people. While I had been diving into this work prior, all of 2019 forced me to realize how much deeper into myself I needed to go.

I needed to see all for what it was, and decide where I would go from there. I needed to realize control isn’t a part of the equation, but acceptance is most certainly the answer. I needed to stop surrendering my personal power and with it responsibility for myself. It had become natural for me to hand my power over to circumstance when what I really needed was to embody it, believe in it, embrace it, celebrate it.

This power. My power.

Power of perspective. Power of choice. Power of forgiveness. Power of acceptance. Power of humility. Power of radical honesty. Power of unconditional love.

Now, I can say I know I am doing my best. I am weaving a life full of equal parts messy and joyful moments. It is both a dream and a sobering reality. I am standing here, in my power, still with two fraternal scars but they have faded, and I am grateful. I am right where I am supposed to be. All of my glorious failures as well as my successes have contributed to this. I am ecstatic to be Here. I am so in love with all of it—the hurt, the ecstasy, the epiphanies, the quiet, the growing pains, the fluidity, the irony, the belonging, the questioning, the inner knowing, the solitude, the confusion, the release, and most of all—the roaring, unending wilderness of possibility.

I’ve held on tightly for all of my life to so many people, places and things. I was desperately reaching. I was trying to get a handle on something not one thing outside of myself could give. I didn’t understand, but I do now. The peace I long for is with me. I experience it in moments. I let the healing wash over and accept the work may never be completely done. But moving in this direction feels right, and I like that.

Hold, and let go.

Hold all in love, all in wonder, all in respect, all in gratitude, all in honor.

Let all go in love, all in wonder, all in respect, all in gratitude, all in honor.

Whatever stays is none of my business, but where I choose to stay is ALL of my business.

And I choose to follow my heart, to be led by my Soul, to trust in the Grander scheme. I must accept the risk that comes with such a choice, and I do, humbly. Don’t get me wrong—I’m far from alone in this. I am surrounded by miraculously supportive, loving beings. And while I know this is my path regardless, that fact makes this choice much easier. So thank you. You all know who you are, Family and Friends. I am lucky to be loved by you and to love you. I do not take you for granted for a second.

So here goes.

To something different. To living in authenticity. To discovering a higher Truth. To pursuing my Personal Legend. To allowing my heart to want what it wants and listening to it—wholly & presently—so I may embrace the untamed, magical life I am creating. To letting go, so I can more fully receive.

And So it is.

fireflies.

I think my favorite time of day in the summer is the sticky sweet middle of a hot afternoon. It was one of those afternoons when I ordered a Lyft in downtown Nashville. The driver rolled up and said, “No, no don’t sit in the back. Come on up to the front seat.” Usually I’d respond with something like, “Thanks, but I’ll just sit back here,” but his kind eyes beckoned me to take the seat beside him. This man had a story to tell. We all do, but we’re not all storytellers. Some of us keep ours to ourselves, or maybe just share with those we love. Others are called to share theirs with the rest of the world. I think storytellers recognize other storytellers before they ever even open their mouths, before they ever pick up a pen. Sure enough, as soon as I closed the door he began recounting the odyssey of his life. His struggle with drug abuse. The failure of his first marriage. The complete and total loss of himself.

And then, the Revival.

Now, he was a pastor at a local church. Assistant pastor actually—his wife led the congregation. He told me about her journey to hell and back with her abusive first marriage. She’d even written a book. Honestly, I’m not positive why I’m writing this entry. All I know is I think about this encounter often. I think about the peaceful expression that came over him when he told me about meeting his current wife. I think about how I could see the pride practically bursting out of his chest when he told me about her book and her work for their community. The way he smiled and laughed when he described this woman who had awakened his entire heart. I told him I hoped to be as lucky as them both one day. He said, “If you want a good man, pray for him.” Simple advice, but not my style. By this point in 2017, I’d embarked on this current spiritual path, but I was still weary about “praying” and what that meant or looked like to me.

I’ll hand it to him though. There was something about the way he said it. I believed him. Granted, ever since I began “praying” for things I’ve been met with what feels like multiple ego deaths and devastating revelation after revelation. In love, I especially seem to have attracted a string of messy lovers with no shortage of lessons to be taught between us. They appear suddenly and fade out just as quickly. Kind of like fireflies. Sure you could catch them, try to keep them. But that’s not where they belong. It feels so much better to let the experience be what it is. Sitting out in the field enveloped in the glow of dusk, the lights of the fireflies blinking in and out of view, until one lands on your arm. It tickles. It makes you laugh. You’ve been chosen. It’s gone as quickly as it came, but it brings a smile to your face nonetheless.

So yes, I’ve had a lot of fireflies. Each one with a different light to share. Exposing my darkest parts, deepest wounds, awakening me to the medicine I need to successfully integrate those pieces of me. The medicine has come in many forms–boundaries, meditation, unconditional love, compassion, detachment, self-worth, and so much more. Each one of them a step closer to a prayer answered.

To be honest, I’m not sure how invested I am with that specific prayer being answered anymore. The further I walk, the more expansive love becomes. These structures we’ve placed upon it just don’t seem to fit as well anymore for me, or any human I know. It’s not about the external, it’s internal. But that’s the point of the journey right? It starts with self. My love for myself. My willingness to face myself. My willingness to heal myself. My ability to forgive myself. So even still, I pray–for many people and many things–and “I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.” (Thanks for that, Practical Magic). I know it all leads me not closer to meeting another, but to meeting myself. And when I do pray for love, I don’t pray for love to come into my life. I am already surrounded by it. I was born of it and it lives within me. So I pray for my soulmates to come into themselves, to rise into their highest, to have compassion for their lowest, to find their freedom, their mission, their calling, and to sprint toward it. Or walk. Whatever timing their journey calls for. So when we cross paths in this lifetime, we will, as ever-evolving beings.

Anyway, life is good. And frustrating. And surprising. And painful. And inspiring. And confusing. And satisfying. You don’t need me to tell you that. I think my favorite part about this journey is realizing how NOT unique my experience is. I am not separate from you. I feel more full, more myself than I have possibly ever. I have more offerings to give than words. I am planting the seeds mindfully. I’m here for any of you. If you want to talk of alchemy, love, loss, prayer, grief, healing, anything. Or if you just want someone with you in the silence. This is all to say–allow others the gift of illuminating what you cannot see. Trust it. Trust yourself.

And so it is.

the eleventh hour.

When I write love poems it feels like they belong to some wild combination of every lover I’ve ever had and those I’ve yet to meet or even imagine. I’ve been thinking about it, and I believe this has a lot to do with my Venus in Sagittarius in the 11th House with Scorpio on the cusp. The planet Venus of course ruling our love and relationships, sits in Sagittarius in my chart. Sagittarius being the fiery archer who shoots first and asks questions later, led by a higher faith and devotion, sometimes to a fault. Both the student and teacher, Venus in Sagittarius has molded me into a lover of learning, expansion and growth in all forms of relationship. Sagittarius trusts and embodies it’s truth, knowing embarking on a voyage in the basis of that truth will always be a journey worth taking.

It all lives in my 11th House. The 11th House is ruled by Aquarius. The house of the collective, friendship, innovation. It is a house of our highest hopes and biggest dreams. It shelters our wishes before flinging them forward into the world in vibrant anticipation. It’s the house that reminds us of the importance of how we are all interconnected. Mix that with Scorpio in the 11th house and it becomes an intense, transformative desire for deep relationships/friendships, trying to fulfill an emotional depth (but after deep self-reflection I’ve realized this is a depth I can only fill myself).

When I reflect on my poetry and try to pinpoint it to one person, it’s hard to do. I can be inspired by a particular situation, but once the words come out it’s like they weave through the spiralic timeline of my life, reaching out and caressing each soul who has ever touched my life and ever will. I am grateful for this expansive view of love. I am curious as to where it is leading my adventurous heart next.

How closely have you looked at the planets/placements in your chart? In what ways do they act as your muses, informing your creativity?

The next 11 poems/prose range from 2015 to now in no particular order. I didn’t pick that number by the way. It just ended up being that many I chose to share. Love it. (11:11). This is a glimpse into what my heart looks like in evolution. Ever changing. Thank you.

1.

You break my heart always

at the same time of year

the delicate in between

of winter and spring

spring buds and blooms

winter frosts and consumes

it’s a war

that I can no longer bare to watch

I know the warmth is coming

I am tired of having to learn this way

2.

come speak in stars with me

our mouths housing entire constellations

planets dripping from our tongues

where every word echoes

of some distant universe,

pulling us into its gravity

how could I communicate

with you

in any other way

than through the heavens

3.

It’s always a mourning process.

A morning,

process.

Purging you from my bed.

I see no trace of you

on the white linen

But I feel remnants of you

within the threads.

4.

You see
I am trying to forget

every smile,
your lips slightly tugging at the corners of your mouth
every freckle,
I counted when you laid asleep next to me
every brush of fingertips
when we reached for the same thing

When did we stop reaching for the same thing?

You see
I am trying to forget

the lights reflecting off river water
how your hands shook
until they met my waist
the way you pushed your hair back
just slightly out of your face

You see
I am trying to forget 

all the ways you said I love you
be it in this alphabet or another

You see
I am trying to remember

how beautiful I am
how the curves of my body never need to meld again to yours
for me to feel love

You see
I am trying to remember

how gentle I am with lovers hearts
and how rough I’ve been with my own
I’m asking for it to forgive me

You see
I am trying to remember

what I deserve
how to center myself
how I am full

I didn’t depend on you,
I just simply wanted
you

I ask, 
“When did it stop?”
“Where did it go?”
You tell me you do not know

And I too, 
wish I couldn’t recall

5.

In my eyes,
everything is short term. 

My existence is less than 
a quick glance between forbidden lovers.

But I remember standing by the river,
laughing in between kisses,
bodies slightly shivering 
from a midnight summer breeze,
or maybe just nerves.

Meeting you,
standing next to you,
laughing with you,
kissing you,
holding you,

has made me believe in infinity.

6.

Straddling your lap, your hand in my hair, breath hot, your laugh, my smirk, color rising to my cheeks. That is when you tasted sweet. We were ripe for love. Now we sit on opposite ends of the couch, rotting.

7.

Looking back on it, I should’ve squeezed my thighs around your head harder. I never caused you nearly as much pain as I did pleasure. But you paid me back in both.

8.

I like boys who taste like winter.
his fingertips venture across my exposed skin. 
with each touch, I feel a chill, a spark,
a bite.
he makes the tip of my nose pink and the color rise in my cheeks.
he whispers, you are not delicate.
I wonder how he knows, but I do not need to wonder long.
because winter is harsh, unyielding,
callous.
yet here I am, waiting.
the next avalanche will come.
it will not bury me.
he’s right, I am not delicate; I have conjured storms too.
there are worlds within ourselves that the other must never touch,
but we do so anyway.
enveloping each other in brumal wrath,
bare skinned, 
bare boned.
I fear we may shatter when we touch.
and then,
like an early spring melts the soiled snow, 
his lips soften when they mold to mine.
and I 
feel
warm.

9.

holding you is like the fluttering of tired eyelids

light

and heavy, all at once

an irresistible surrender I can’t help giving into

together, we dream

together, we create

entire worlds neither of us could’ve imagined alone

when I wake I fear I will not remember,

so half asleep I reach for you,

instinctively you pull me closer

I can hear you

humming in your sleep,

whispering my name

over & over & over & over

I think to myself,

“no, no,

I could never forget this”

10.

I love the way you lure the laughter out of my mouth.

a symphonic composition,

you tell me, “this is a soundtrack we could build a life to.”

with the slightest movement of your hand you conduct the desire through me.

I follow you, in time, matching heartbeat to heartbeat.

how long until it stops?

“shhh,” you whisper as if you’ve read my mind.

you probably have.

“stay, here in it, with me.”

I nod, I smile,

here comes that laughter again.

my entire being shouting,

encore,

encore,

encore.

11.

I’m not sure what Heaven is like

but I imagine

it’s reminiscent of the way you’d quietly open my bedroom door,

shedding all your winter layers

in the effervescent glow of my television.

slipping under the sheets,

curving your body around mine.

your longing for me

pouring out of your skin.

a sacred transference.

an eternal unity.

a primordial inner calling,

much older than us, taking over.

unable to sense any separation,

we’d ascend as a soulful ensemble

in a loving, all-knowing safety.

I imagine Heaven

is something like that.

endless

Everything about you, feels like a miracle.

And when I say you, I mean you,
and you,
and you,
and you.

I mean us.

I mean every connection you’ve ever made,
be it for a moment or a lifetime.
Or lifetimes.
(Meet me in the next).

I mean every smile,
from the one that tugs at the corner of your lips,
so delicately they never even notice.
To the one with all your teeth bared,
laughing maniacally from the bottom of your belly.

I mean the way flowers burst out of your chest,
every time you open up
and let someone a little bit closer than expected.

I personally,
especially,
love the daisies.

Never stop blooming.

What is it that e.e. cummings said?
“I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)”
It is divine to experience how they beat in the same time measure.
A rhythm,
steady and true.

I beg of you,
never stop writing this song.
An endless melody,
let me dance until my feet give way.

And then, you’ll catch me.
You’ll catch me.
You’ll catch me.

a sailor’s prayer.

My intention was to love you. This is my intention with every person, with every connection I make. I love. What differs is the way that love manifests and blooms into existence. It’s different every time. Sometimes it changes with people over time, but it is always love, and it needs no explanation. “One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving.” When we meet someone we have an idea of where our intended love will go. We’ll make choices and decisions based upon steering our love in the direction we desire. We visualize an outcome. This isn’t abnormal or even necessarily a bad thing. Visualization is healthy and helpful. There are some ways that intention can be insidious, but that has everything to do with the person doing the work and where they are in their healing process. Is their intention truly to love unconditionally? Or is it an escape out of loneliness? Is it actually a need for validation? Is it a vain attempt to numb a wound rather than heal it?

With you, I released the need to steer the ship. I decided the waves knew better how to get me to land. To an island with a jungle that’s lush and dense, so green it feels like you never even knew the true meaning of the color. Until now. A never-ending paradise abundant with life and nourishment. Of course, all jungles have dark, dangerous places too. But with love guiding me, I do not fear getting twisted up in the vines. Once I relax, release, the fear releases me too. I slip from the danger into a place of gratitude. The darkest parts of ourselves have a greater need to be seen than the lightest. This is where the deepest healing is. See me, it begs. This tests love, and love withstands.

So, I let go of the wheel of my ship and let it spin. Carried softly by salt and foam to whatever place is meant for me this time, I trust the motion. And while I could look at the night sky and consult the stars for an idea of where I’m going, it is more fun not to know.

Love.

Love.

Love.

My intention is to love you. It can blossom in any way it wants to, and that way will feel right. I stand securely and happily, with an open heart and open eyes. Love is a compass leading me home, “a little lighter, a little brighter.”

all lunar & love.

You are all lunar & love,
and all I want is to
bask in the glow of it.

But all you give me
is an eclipse.

I wrote that poem this time last year (July 20, 2017 to be exact). It felt fitting for this post–an eclipse poem for an eclipse reading. The total lunar eclipse in Aquarius on July 27, 2018 will be the longest lunar eclipse of the century. Eclipse energy is always intense, but the longest one in 100 years? Might just be worth noting. We already had a partial solar eclipse in Cancer on July 12, 2017. Cancer season always comes with stirred up emotions, but this past season was particularly volatile concerning home, family and our closest companionships. Many of you have probably had thoughts of leaving certain situations. Perhaps contemplating a new job, changing cities, leaving a relationship or friendships. What your heart is telling you to leave behind, leave it. Eclipses bring endings, irrevocable changes, sudden departures & the like. While all of these things sound daunting (and let’s not lie to ourselves, they are), they are forging a new path for you, one that serves you in the highest. We’re leveling the hell up people. Get ready. 

So how can we make the most out of this Blood Moon? There are already plenty of wonderful articles out on the web about what it means for this eclipse in Aquarius. The internet is full of amazing astrologers graciously sharing their knowledge of common themes we’ll be experiencing. So what I wanted to share with you is a tarot reading about what we need to leave behind, what we need to take with us & the overall feeling we may experience after this total lunar eclipse. I pulled a card from the Morgan-Greer tarot for each of these questions. Then I pulled a card from John Holland’s Psychic Tarot for the Heart for an encouraging message we can meditate upon during this time of rapid change. I hope it is something you can carry with you as the effects of the eclipse unfold over the next 6 months.

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What do we need to leave behind right now?

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IV – The Emperor

“A mature man with conviction and the ability to execute plans and ideas. He maintains an overview of all situations with stability, control, and reason.” – Moran-Greer Tarot

Sounds like a dude that’s really got it together right? Well, forget about him. During eclipse season, embodying the Emperor is resistance to what will actual serve you–which is change. To embrace change we need to release the need to control, the impulse for order, the desire to plan and take the responsible route. It doesn’t mean we need to run around turning our lives on their heads, but it does mean we need to not only expect the unexpected but embrace it willingly. The chaotic energy of eclipse season does not sit well with the Emperor. He is sure of his future, of his plans and how to execute them swiftly. But the structure the Emperor in all of us craves is lost to us right now. There is a time and place for the secure energy the Emperor offers, but this is not it. Our paths have shifted, shifting our goals, plans and strategy to get where we thought we wanted to be. We must be willing to break out of rigidity and embrace the freedom this shift is allowing us. We are not stuck. We are the complete opposite. Do not fall back into the confines of order the Emperor tempts you into because it feels “safe.” Instead of being fearful, be grateful, be curious and boldly lean into the transformation you’ve been gifted.

 

What do we need to take with us into this new phase of life?

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III – The Empress

“Wife, mother, companion. Through warmth and devotion, she brings pleasure and comfort to her loved ones. Finds practical application and purposes for ideas.” – Moran-Greer Tarot

I just have to say I find it interesting (& a little funny) that I pulled the consort card of The Emperor for the complete polar opposite question I was asking. Duality man, it’s wild. Anyway! The Empress… Divine femininity, ruled by Venus, an emblem of fertility, generosity and abundance. What I want you to bring with you is your open, soft nature. If you are not someone who is tapped into this, work on accessing it. The Empress is associated with the Heart Chakra. Open yours. To thrive in a time where so much feels uncertain, we must remain open wholeheartedly. This will allow us the flexibility needed to prosper on a new path, and continue our journey to our highest good, our purpose, our “Personal Legend.” Trust the Empress within yourself to provide you with the emotional strength and security needed to get through this. Use her warm energy to help you guide others who are not so sure of themselves.

 

What describes the overall emotional state/feeling we may experience?

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Five of Pentacles

“Spiritual warmth comforts those suffering financial or physical hardship.” – Moran-Greer Tarot

No matter how you shape it, this card means hardship of some sort. Be it money, career, home or in your personal relationships, there is a loss you are currently facing. It is difficult to let go of something, but letting go is a choice. Often with Five of Pentacles something was taken. We feel as if we were given no time to prepare. No time to choose to let go. I say “we feel as if” we weren’t given time to prepare because the truth is we are equipped to deal with the hardship to come. We may not want to, but we can. How? Through supporting each other. Not only do we need to lean into the new direction the Universe is pulling us in, we need to lean on each other. Express your confusion, fear, anxiety, excitement. The spiritual journey is a personal one, yes, but it does not have to be a lonely one. If you feel isolated, I want you to know I am your companion in this. I humbly ask you to honor me by trusting me enough to lean on me when you need it. And, I hope you will do the same for me.

 

What message overall can we trust during this time, to lift us, when we need it most?

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6 – Love

“…Are you coming from a place of love? It’s important to empathize, remain nonjudgmental, and love people for who they are. The same applies to your relationship with yourself. There’s an opportunity now to bring your being into a harmonious whole. Forgive your faults and rejoice in your perfect uniqueness… Are you choosing to have people in your life who support and empower you? Surround yourself only with those who encourage and sustain you, and who push or guide you to be all that you truly can be. This will help you value yourself and raise your vibration to that of unconditional love.” – John Holland, Psychic Tarot for the Heart

Eclipses are a time when the past recycles into our present. With so many planets already in retrograde, and Mercury about to station retrograde on July 26, people and situations from our past are popping up left and right. This isn’t coincidental or without purpose. It’s karmic energy, pulling up chords we’ve left uncut. Who/what are we still attached to that is toxic for us? Do not get me wrong. I don’t believe everyone in your past should always stay there. Sometimes the past cycles around to show us how WE were toxic. What behaviors have we exhibited that we need to recognize? How can we do it differently this time? Trust your intuition to be able to differentiate between something toxic/draining, and something that, while it may make you uncomfortable, is actually pushing you to a higher vibration. Be kind with yourself as you investigate these relationships, especially the one with yourself. Forgive yourself. Release what/who does not nourish your soul. Be happy, thankful and openly grateful to those who are. Unconditional love is not in short supply. If we can learn to release the fears & insecurities that cause us to put limits, conditions and ties on our love, we can finally realize & accept unconditional love is abundant within ourselves and others. Express it to those who’ve wronged you by forgiving them and letting them go. Express it to those who you know are in your life to cherish & support you. Let them know you are there to meet and love them where they are at. You are there to walk beside them as they journey to where their heart calls them to go.

 

Anytime I do a reading I always feel there is so much more deeper to go. But I am going to leave you with this. Truly, it’s just as much as up to your interpretation as it is mine. Even if this resonates with just one person, that’s enough. Also, any additional interpretation/feedback is always, always welcome.

By releasing the rigidity of past expectations held by the Emperor within us, we embrace and nurture the new path laid before us comforted by the loving, warm energy of our Empress. This provides us with the strength and light needed to navigate a time of hardship, loss and inevitable change (Five of Pentacles). We do it all from a place of eternal Love. And so it is.

illuminations.

For two weeks I’ve woke up to the thought: “I need to do a reading and write a post today.” But the days kept passing, I didn’t pull any cards & I didn’t write a word. But this afternoon I thought, “I’m ready to do a reading and I want to write a poem.” Not even a poem, really. Just words. I’ve always hesitated to call anything I do poetry. Real talk? That’s just a personal insecurity. It’s a fear-based thought. I think to myself, “How can anything I write ever be beautiful enough to be considered poetic?” Then, I wake up out of that messy, low-self esteem, self-sabotaging daze and I realize: my entire goddamn existence is poetic. And so is yours. If you’ve forgotten & needed a reminder–this is it.

There are levels to the messages when reading tarot. Some of them we often don’t even realize at the time of a reading. It comes later, when we’re standing in the checkout line or folding laundry. I find we have our most extraordinary revelations doing ordinary things. That’s not by accident. So, my few words here won’t cover as deep as the meanings run with these cards, but maybe it can pull something out of you.

Long story short, I decided to bang out some shitty unedited free verse while meditating on these images.

My advice? Do what you need to do to revive your creativity when you feel it losing its breath. It’ll thank you.

The Sun.

to feel the warmth on my face,

revitalization

you gift me with your energy

all of it, radiating

from my fingertips

outstretched like rays

I reach for us,

glowing,

growing

I feel you underneath my skin,

soaking in, you stay

like the tan lines that still linger

on my body in deep winter

we laugh basking in light

ablaze,

even as we fade

I still feel the heat, eternal

between us

9 of cups.

so tell me,

if the Sun is the closest star to us,

if it’s light gives Earth life

why are we sending our wishes out so far?

I must have asked the Sun for you

not Sirius or Polaris

you came from the Sun

that is the only way this could feel

this good, this fast

I pour myself into you when you come

just like I poured out into the heavens,

waiting for you to arrive

here you are,

there you go

8 of cups.

and there I go,

the Moon comes out to wrap herself

around the Sun,

a crescent of comfort

she shows me parts of myself,

of you, of us

that I couldn’t see in daylight

I do not regret wishing for you

I do not curse the Sun for bringing you

I do not hate the Moon for revealing you

I am grateful for knowing

when to leave and when to stay

like Orpheus leading Eurydice,

I cannot look back

I am honored to love struggle

into stride

but mostly,

I am in love with knowing that if I go,

and you are mine, you will follow

someday, I know

you’ll catch up.