i know i do

I used to photograph myself to convince someone to love me.
It was expected that I would wear a corset, fishnet of some kind, gloves...
A ball gag always received immediate response.

But of course, that was not lasting love.
It was not even lasting lust.

How can someone love you
When you don't even love yourself?

How can someone respect you
When you don't even respect yourself?

I got caught up in his lie that if I did not love and accept his apology
That I was a hypocrite or worse.

I conditioned myself to love at all costs
So that even now, I know no other way.

Some would say, "Wait until you are attacked, and see how much compassion you have."

I was.  I did. I am.

The more I see you struggle, the greater my compassion grows.
I see it in every eye.
I hear it in every word.

People crave more than anything
To be seen
To be heard
To be understood
To be loved.

I know I do.

And now I know where to find it.

night terror

I have nightmares.

Terrifying dreams that I am awake.
 Only to wake up into another dream.
Another dream in which I am asleep.

Last night I dreamed of him.
Of you.

I dreamed I couldn't start my car.
Try as I might, the engine would not turn over.
And I wanted to go.
I was ready.

I became frustrated.
Screaming with the full force of my rage.

Screaming always reminds me that I am asleep.
My subconscious mind trying to wake my conscious self up.

This has become very familiar.
I could hear myself screaming to wake up.

Wake up I did.
I had been sleeping in the backseat of my car.
He was driving.

It was dark.
I couldn't see where I was going.

I realized the reason I couldn't start my car
Was because I had been asleep the whole time.
And he.
He was driving my car.

...
I let that really sink in.
...

I could not move forward because he was still in control.

I give myself the best advise in dream.
My soul.
Dear universe,
Is the best teacher.

The lesson here is two-fold.
The first is that I know I can wake myself up from a dream.
Awake or asleep.

The second lesson is
I am aware now
Aware that I was still asleep
Letting my past drive my future.

I started to force my screaming.
It is really hard to scream in reality
When you are still asleep.

I screamed and screamed
Until I could hear my faint whimper.
I could feel my soft pillow.
I could feel the cold
Where my blanket had slid off
Of me in the night.

I opened my eyes.
In the darkness of the night
Stars shining brightly out my window
I could not tell the difference
between the lightness of day.

Somewhere.
Someplace.
He is still out there.
You are still out there.
I send my love
daily

Those moments in the day
I still see
I love you

I see I am driving my own car.
I feel it startle to life.

My voice past fear of the darkness.
My sound with the courage of all that I am.

before you go

before you go

king lionheart

crystal crown heavy and bright

rest your head on my chest

legs intertwined

so we don’t get lost in the night

breath hot on my cheek

your strength draws out my meek

your magnetic eyes

hover over me

before you go

will you let me sit in your lap

will you tell me a story?

before you go

whisper to me

the things you are afraid to say

before you go

let me hold your face

kiss away your fears

before you go

will you make me scream

make me sing

make me move

burn me up in the fire of your passion

before you go

will you let me sing you a song

gently rock you to sleep

let me hold your thumb nail

let me bake you a cake

scratch your fingers across my skin

while my hands are hopelessly tangled in your hair

let me taste your tongue

let me taste your smile

i want to be selfishly selfless

in love with you

i needed to do this for myself
i needed to take my time
i needed to be gentle with myself

i needed to let you go
to prove that anything is possible

that sweet release is real
as real as the dream you brought to life
each day at dawn
as real as the sun to me
as real as the moon smiling on us

to soar

Apparently there is nothing quite like a 365 project slap in the face.

Where does my day go that I cannot post a picture and write a few thoughts.

I think the trouble still is that my thoughts are many and intertwined, however that is the whole purpose of this project. To practice speaking out.

So, with a week's worth of diligent work, I have cleared the cluttered corners of all of my rooms to make space for the new. In so doing, in exhaustion, I have come to the realization that I am finally in a good place to be for awhile. The word coast came to mind, but it has a lazy connotation. I was at my river spot photographing damselflies (they are getting friendly with me) when a huge commotion sounded upstream. Time stood still. My senses were overwhelmed. My ears heard the air from each feathered stroke. I felt the wind as a red tailed hawk soared so close then swooped up and over my head. He showed me, as if I had forgotten, how fierce it felt to fly. And then I knew. All I really need to do is let go of any remnants of the past, remove-delete, it has all been cleaned and gleaned. This moment I have been preparing for is here. I have lost some friendships and it really is quite sad. There were days I cried for you, in remembrance. No matter how much I still care, those times are gone. I am not the same person I was a year ago, I am not even the same person I was two months ago. The changes they come so quickly. I cling to my compassion.

It can be confusing (and exhausting) to constantly be bombarded with those who might oppose. I don't understand anyone that claims to have compassion for all, when they really mean compassion for some. I don't understand those who claim to love, as long as they get what they want. When you love someone for who they are, you support their journey out of respect. Because if you only love when things are easy or when the light shines your way, that is only selfish love. Which is fine, as long as you are clear about it only being love to stroke your ego. But will you be? You can lie to yourself as much as you want, but the truth will always be there staring you in the face.

I also do not understand those who question my compassion, or feel the need to test it. Call me different from anyone you have ever met, then expect me to treat you the way others have in your past. I do not understand when people say to me, "would you rather I lash out in violence?" Why does this even occur to people? I feel sick just having negative thoughts.

I do not understand how words from someone I do not know can fill me with such sadness, such anxiety, that I feel physically sick. Go ahead and test, go ahead and doubt. It is because of these people that I get a chance to practice speaking up for myself. I can prove to myself who I really am. I do not need words of projection from anyone any longer. And that feels really good.

These last few months I have so many regrets. I feel like I have aged four years in four weeks. I won't be the same. There is no going back. Nothing to long for, no comfort. But there will be peace.

growing towards the light

What would you do with freedom?
Would you feel free?

Free to feel every emotion.
Free to fall.
Free to stand.
Freedom to speak.
Freedom to be silent.
Freedom to find understanding.
Freedom to practice patience.
Freedom to be aware.

Joyously, drunkenly aware.
For better or worse.

Free to live, really live each moment in outrageous joy.
Free to make your life into a work of art.

just be

I have more photos of me falling down than I do of great accomplishments.

Does this mean I have more failures than success?
Does this mean I have more success capturing those moments of supposed failure?
Does this mean I have more success capturing those moments of supposed success?
 
It does not matter.

I have just as much fun giggling when I fall.
Rubbing my naked skin to feel each dewy blade of grass in the rain.

I have just as much fun glowing in the brilliant rays of sunshine.
Lifting my chin to meet the sun as it rises with my confidence.

Each moment a genius master with an important lesson.

To Just Be.

To just be me in all moments.
To see myself just as I am.

To enjoy each moment is a luxury I indulge with gratitude.

where are you looking

Sitting on a train bridge there are two clear choices.
To look back or to look forward.

Power goes where focus flows

Actually there are more than two choices.  And there are songs to be sung, and photos to take.
So.  My first inspiration for this train bridge came from Pink Floyd -Wish you were here.

So you think you can tell?

Heaven from Hell?

A smile from a veil?

A green field from a cold steel rail?

The other is Lana Del Rey, who conspires with me to kick our shoes off in our best Joan Baez guitar strumming voice walking along the side of the road.

I hear the birds on the summer breeze,

I drive fast, I am alone in the night

Been tryin' hard not to get into trouble,

but I, I've got a war in my mind

So, I just ride, just ride,

I just ride, just ride

But I didn't really mind because I knew that it takes getting everything you ever wanted, and then losing it to know what true freedom is.

365 project

At the beginning of the year I vowed to write every day and make (at least) one self portrait.

I have been faithful to that promise, but not always comfortable sharing that process.

My writing is influenced by something larger than my everyday meanderings.  My photography projects range from deep inspiration to intense gratitude just for being alive.

This September marks the one year anniversary of the moment my life completely changed.

I will not say that it was entirely my decision.
It shattered in a way that was irreparable.
A passage across the Rubicon.
A look back and I am in awe. 

Hey!  Look at that! 
I crossed a point of no return.  
Yeah, I did that.  
And now here I am. 

Where?  
I have no fucking idea. 
The only thing I know, is that I don't know.

Some wounds never heal with time.  Instead, they start hurting again given certain weather conditions.  It is very rare that I feel anger. I do not believe in anger, instead I see it as a mask covering up emotions I have yet to face more directly.  Irritation, the precursor, is usually a symptom of impatience.  Here I must accept this juncture.  I must allow myself the luxury of wallowing in my own pain.  In that deep dive I swim the depths with familiarity, a new understanding that overlooks the old.  I can truly say, Yes, I am living my truth.

"Be not the slave of your own past.  Plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep and swim far, so you shall come back with self respect, with new power, with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old." -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Today I left my door open.  The consequences of that action, requiring me again to vacuum up ruffled feathers.  Emblazoning the fact in my head head, that yes, I indeed do have the tools to face that reality.

Whether I like it or not.

To further ritualize that moment, I set fire to the last remnants of my past.  I set fire to that dead dream, I watched it burn.  I breathed in the smell of burning gratitude.  I exhaled the ashes that eventually become fertilizer for another dream.

From those ashes came the realization that I need another outlet.  I need to give myself permission to practice walking my talk.  I need a reason to speak every day when I otherwise might stay silent.  I want to give meaning to my self portraits in order to share them.

Laying in bed all day sick from the death of a dream, whose time had long since extinguished, I watched the movie Anna Karenina six times.  So taken by the lovely production, I wanted to create my own vision of it.

Early morning rise and drive to my special spot, struggle against fears of safety, I climbed the slippery slope to the train tracks.  Countess Vronskaya's words on my mind, "I'd rather go through life wishing I hadn't, than wishing I had."

And as Anna, I whisper, "I don't know."

Rebelle Society ~ Nine Signs You Might Be Anna Karenina

I am Pro Life

How many mistakes can one human make in a lifetime?

How many mistakes can I make in dealing with the mistakes that I make?

hello darkness my old friend

I stopped talking. 

When did I become silent?

When did I decide to isolate myself? 

When did I stop breathing?

Why, when all I have worked for these last few years was to live my life out loud? It didn’t make sense. 

Yet, that non sense was the life I strived for every day.  There my dichotomy stared me in the face.  That wolf gritting it’s heart against the howl that would inevitably follow.

 

 My fear of judgments or persuasions that might {possibly} sway my truth pulled a dense fog into my valley of pastoral serenity.   I knew what I wanted.  I knew my own heart, my own mind.  The answer was already inside me.  Still I needed time to wander, to drown in the depth of all of my choices.  I know I can breathe underwater.

I must be a mermaid.  For I have no fear of depth, only shallow living. ~Anais Nin

And so I did.  I broke two teeth on that truth.

I am no badass.  

I never said I was tough.  

I am not invincible.  

I am vulnerable, raw.  

Heart on my sleeve like a wet, red stain.  

Susceptible to every piercing arrow, every silence. 

Driving down dirt roads.  Dust hung heavy in the air. Wind rustled through trees and it sounded like wild rain.  But when those planes fly down low through the trees and shoot their arrows straight into my throat, I pull them out. 

Afraid.  But unhurt.

Divorced. Single.  Mother. 34. Old enough to know better.

The labels swirled like band aids around me in a vortex. At any moment I could have reached out to grab one to salve my shame.  But each one brought with it another shame in weakness for not accepting my reality.

Pro life.  Pro choice.

Pro heart. Con logic.

My poor heart.  How many times must I disappoint you?

When you want something, the whole universe conspires to give it to you.  Are you ready?

Ready or not here it comes.

I could have been her.  A helpless victim.  One to be pitied. 

Or a  warrior with strength in a vice grip wielding away another kind of happiness.  

 Another me.  Another happiness.  Another life.

The universe has given me an immense gift. 

 One that I believe in with all of my heart.  I have felt it since the moment of conception.  But my soul tells me that this is the ultimate challenge.  Not to fly in the face of nature.  But to choose for myself a different life.  In choosing to not accept the gift, I am choosing to accept a release.  A closure.  A definitive cleansing of the past and end to the karma.

Babies.

They are entirely fantastic.  The scent of sweet soft skin.  Downy hair. Suckling lips latched down in exquisite pain as nourishment is passed from one being to another. Maternal mammalian bond creating the ultimate circle of life.  Dear universe, you know full well there is nothing more I would love in this life than to have another baby in my arms.  But I also know that this is the ultimate test.  What am I willing to do for my new life?  What am I willing to sacrifice?  What work am I willing to do to break the karmic cycle of my past life.

I choose life.  I choose me.

I know that it is only in getting everything I ever thought I wanted and losing it that true freedom is found.  Freedom to create a life I want, instead of being held back from being who I really am out of fear. 

The first few days after I saw that double pink line, that double positive test, I was surprised at how unsurprised I was.  I had known.  I knew it from the moment of conception.  A true Aquarius, I know my body very well.  From the first twinges, to the fluorescent yellow morning pee.  Sore breasts, and implantation bleeding that came on the perfect number of days before my menstruation was set to start on the full moon.  Fuck.  I was fucked.  Literally and figuratively.

Not surprise gave way to avoidance.  

I never wished to be a statistic more in my life.  Is it true 70% of all pregnancies end in miscarriage?  The rates drop considerably after implantation, to 30%.  I still had a chance.  Every time I went to the bathroom I checked for blood, craving cramps hoping for an early miscarriage.  I felt unholy.  I felt dirty.  I felt immense shame to hope for one life’s death, so that I might live.

What of karma?  I was still struggling with another karmic circle and was paralyzed with fear to consider another karmic debt I would have to pay.  I was too ashamed to ask friends or family for advice.  Too shamed to burden them with my mistake.  This is exactly what I did not want in my life anymore. 

Circumstances too big to talk about.  Isolation grew my shame… again.

There was only one way through this.  I had to face the fact.  Face the reality.  Face my life, in order to decide my fate and that of my growing baby.

I looked at naked body in the mirror.

I rubbed and loved my growing belly.  My swelling breasts.  
I was pregnant. 
That growing life is a gift, I could never deny.

I laid down to have a talk with the spark ignited inside of me.

I closed my eyes.

I rubbed my palms together in front of my forehead, raising my vibration.

Deep exhale of any and all breath, until I feel the energy circle my toes.

Behind closed eye lids I can see my purple energy swirl and escape out into the universe.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

I’m sorry.

I love you.

This is my life.

This is your life as well.

We both deserve dharma.

We both deserve to choose something better for ourselves.

Our futures are inevitable.

But we are given the blessed option right now.  Right here. To stop punishing ourselves.

To choose to learn the lesson and accept our fate and put an end to the karmic circle.

Together, we can choose life.

In that moment, I knew.

We were acknowledged.

We were in agreement.

We had each others  respect and blessing.

We were one.

We were loved.

That this came on a full moon and Lammas, a time of release and of sacrifice is no mistake.

"For carnivorous cultures, the autumnal hunts and the slaughter of the herds was bloody. The ritual hunt of the King Stag ensured the return of Summer, and the turning of the Year. The annual cull of the herd cleared the old to make room and resource for the new. One thing is necessarily given to gain another. That is why people always would sacrifice the most beautiful, healthy, whole animal of their herd—that is how badly they wanted, and what they were willing to give, for next year’s fertile harvest."

Laura Miller says, "Sacrifice is something we resist. It is a difficult, unpopular theme to come to terms with in our modern mindset. We are encouraged, both in capitalist consumer culture and also “magically” by books like The Secret, to think that we can have everything all at once. Even though we know that, linearly, that is not true. Older, more mature and magical cultures than ours, actually understood this.

Sometimes, in order to have something that you love, you have to give up something else that you love. 

It is giving something up to a cause larger than yourself, without being quite sure what, if anything, you will get back in return. In sacrifice, there are no guarantees. There is no real sacrifice if you know the resolution."

This is the depth of my sacrifice.  This is the best I can offer.

all my life for all my love