look inside
the flower
and see a universe,
as a five-pointed star.
look above the horizon
and meet the nearly full moon’s cool reflection
on the sheltered lake.
follow the path wherever it takes you, and into the clean, green air
be a little enchanted, why not?
Wishing you a Merry vernal Equinox and Libra full moon
~ 💚🍀 ~
photography rights Ka Malana
life is so precious
we only get so much time
here in this form,
to experience exactly as we
are, with no label on how we
react, what we feel, what we
encounter.
how beautiful and precious is our
choice, our freedom, our whims,
our planning, our unique flames,
as we streak in the wind, in the eternal stream,
we offer our incandescent blur of precious steam
to the beam of consciousness ~
and it enters into us, unannounced
but completely recognizable
as peace, love, goodwill
She looked up at the stars and wondered how they were so luminous and defined while the slicing light of the eclipse pierced above the horizon, setting the landscape with a gnarly blue glow. She had never seen anything like this before, and none of her ephemerides indicated that this could be happening now, or was forecasted to happen.
A lonely, confused boy with heavy ears faced her now, and all she could see was his silhouette. Why wasn’t he looking towards the light, she thought? She felt closed-in-on as a narrowed corridor of light indicated her only direction was forward, or behind. So much context was missing suddenly that she felt like she was living in a vignette within a vignette inside of someone else’s story. Someone who lived on another planet. But this was her planet. The light was triggering something unique in her skin, a sensation she hadn’t experienced before.
The eclipse glowed and almost hummed against her cheeks at first, but then the vibrations managed to work through her skin’s surface. Each atom was now interacting by the apparent fusion of the blotted sun with the black of moon. Her flesh radiated with the hue of blue-tinted infrared, the heat on her skin transforming all the tiny hairs on her arms as she felt herself fall away, merging into the dust that she saw gathering all around her feet.
With what was left of her body, or her will, she ran and ran forward into the image of the child before her, who seemed so real in his blackened solidness. She could feel his density, his realness. She wanted to grab his hand, and run into the city with him, for she was bursting with a sense of a new body, and a new life, and she was ready to visit this new previously unseen city ahead that was veiled all along.
I wrote this piece as an experiment with fiction and using an image prompt, and being quick. I wanted very much to do something different from what I was doing, as I needed a change of pace. I’m not sure if this will be an example of my “change of pace,” but it was inspiring enough for me to give it a whirl. Thank you Diana Wallace Peach for this March Speculative Fiction Prompt.
It’s been a while since I’ve had a childhood pet, since it’s been a while since I’ve been a child. When I was in my early 30s, I had been a sort- of-parent to a dog that my ex mostly raised himself, having had already ideas about how to do that, that he learned from his family and the pets they’d had. This lovely dog, I still think of her, and remember her puppy years, and how she was so close to us, sleeping as a puppy. But, naturally, I encounter my childhood pet more often on the etheric plane. She was my sister-dog. We had that sort of relationship. I wrote my first poem ever, about her. She captured my tears in her golden coat, and played with me easily and joyfully.
My parents had a bunch of cats around when I was born, but I was born allergic, so the cats went elsewhere. There was one cat in particular I remember shouting her name for hours and desperately missing her (I must have been around 4 or younger), but she never came. I wept. I felt guilty for being allergic. It made me sad.
I’ve made friends with a number of outdoor animals over the years, and never claimed them as “mine.” There was this kitten that I named who I really was very fond, of but I didn’t see her around consistently, and so lost her to the elements of who-knows-where. But I would see her a couple of times after I got off the school bus; and for a day or two, she felt like mine. After my Shamanic Healing today with my Shamanic teacher, I met this cat and felt deeply towards it, only to quickly learn her language, get her to come over so I could make contact, and then for us both to be on our ways again.
I’m thinking of making my blog private, I sort of don’t know what I want to do with it right now, and I’m not sure why I felt like sharing this, either. But it made sense, somehow.
In some cases, this is literally true. Dream states are existing all the time; in the way we filter our experiences through our reticular system, we are not really meeting reality ‘exactly as it is.’ But, today as my little unborn baby bounces around inside of me, I wanted to write a little bit about astrology and introduce a great book I finished earlier this week, written by a woman who is both a writer and acupuncturist (as well as a stylist!), among other things… indeed.
First the dynamic astrology that was this week.
This week is like a catapult of energy, and we shall all see where we end up. With creative genius Pisces, all the world could be our oyster, or our disillusion, and/or both, and/or neither. So! Soak it up!
Next:
The Book of Help: A memoir in remedies kept me engaged the entire time. There were moments when I felt I wanted to pause to read my 10 or so other concurrent books and magazines (besides blogs) that I usually have going, and those moments were nice to integrate and enjoy the ‘coming and going’ of joining with Megan, as a friend, for a tasty beverage. Naturally Megan’s book, published January 2019, by Rodale, New York, was attractive to me because I am also in the field of Acupuncture and Traditional Chinese Medicine, and have an interest in writing/reading literature and living a dynamic life. What I enjoyed that was unique to Megan’s memoir is the way she organized her book. Each chapter is broken down into a little subtext with the headings and statement behind them, “Purpose, Duration, Equipment needed, Age, Cost, and Location.” In this way Megan is making a catalogue of her training periods, and being creative about what she considers trainings, workshops, and excursions along the way into self-development, and ultimately self-love. Megan’s book also reads like a bit of an expedition, as one of her main interests and her training experience is among the wilderness.
Maybe my favorite part is the end of her book, which I won’t give away. At all, or even hint, but it was tearful, and added a lot of depth to my reading of her memoir, endearing me to her. And my second favorite part of her book is in the very beginning where she dedicated,
“For all those who’ve ever needed a lantern. And for all those who’ve been one.”
Very well done, Megan. I found it interesting that you attended a couple of different Chinese medicine schools, and for your clinical training, and I appreciate that you “took your time” with the journey – as I can definitely relate to that. Here’s to living it all.
In the blog world, there are a number of mental health/ other health blogs. I am always touched when a number of people visit my blog, and then I go to their blog to reciprocate their kindness for liking one of my poems, and I see an individual or group of individuals who are pushing through their emotional challenges, and being a ‘presence’ online so that others have the awareness that they are not alone. Some people visit as teachers or those who would like to offer services, build their business outreach and exposure, but many like to visit to just say “hello” and “touch base” with a “like” or a kind comment.
So many of our relationships often can be built around sharing our inadequacies and our challenges, in ways that uplift one another. Likewise, many build support relationships where we can all celebrate the success of those in our network who we are attentive to, and who we contribute much our time and our interests, as we build relationships, as we surf our interests on the net during our day.
What I see is a sort of bottom line is the challenge that is met with blogging to put one’s internal experiences into words. Sometimes words however are not the best method for delivering information, and yet we all understand through words and build our basis in connecting. Though there are many authors who write to offer their creative talents and inspire others to use creativity as a solution to their busy, ready, and curious minds. Whatever the mission out there, there’s a huge diversity.
Depression can be a real challenge and a drag in the reciprocity department. The desire to give and to receive is human and innate. We all want, I believe, to use our lives to enrich the lives of others. At least that’s what I see, I see people wanting to enrich the lives of others as an innate, human need. In fact, I can’t think of a trait more “human” than the desire to relieve the suffering of others.
Please know that your efforts, your vision, your place in the world is valued and acknowledged. There will always be an audience for your message, even if your message shifts as your mood changes with time. Please know that you always have help, and there are always people willing to be part of your life.
Wishing you all, dear reader, a good day, and a good weekend, week ahead. May all your best dreams come true.
I am filled with a million thankyous
and while that number is imprecise
I am leaking wishes for everyone of
you who touch me every day
with your focus and dedication
Your talent, your trust
Life is unbreakable while it is
fragile and the thankyous are squishy
awarenesses, that are part of an
experimental soundtrack, traveling towards
everybody’s Heaven as one.
What I do today I will not do tomorrow
but something different and something new
For I have found a way to encounter
unexpected happiness after turning troubling
corners,
And I’ve decided that I don’t need any talent to continue, all I need is the blessings of another day, with all its lack of permission. I’ll take the breath! I will make my own way, without a direct line,
instead I will carve out my path, one line at a time, and wait for no celebration to greet me but the one that naturally arises,
when I realize that I’m breathing deeper than I ever have before;
so something’s working well enough,
for me, to continue getting lost in love.
:: bows::
Fiesta Estrellas 
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