Monday, December 7, 2015

The Prince of Fire: Part 2

People are interesting. Though, not that interesting.

Some people are stupid and yes, they really are stupid.

I can be stupid, too.  I've been thinking about the words, "free spirit." What does it mean when someone says s/he is a free spirit? I'm beginning to see they aren't free spirits at all because being a free spirit doesn't give you permission to be an ass-hole.

I'm thinking these folks are simply...capricious. They're hot and cold. So bloody temperamental. They're of one mind today but of a different mind, tomorrow. Today, they'll say yes when they mean no and tomorrow, they'll say no when they mean yes. They can't keep their word. That's why they can't ANYthing. It's not because they're living in the moment. It's because they refuse to make any kind of decision that requires them to be kind to another, to be respectful. They don't want to be held accountable. They can be fickle, changeable, unpredictable...yes...capricious.

Good riddance.

Since when does being a "free spirit" give you the right to be disrespectful? To be a total shithead? To be inconsiderate? All I see is a spirit in chains. Fools.

Now, if a "free spirit" can treat me like a nobody...can treat someone like me, who's been nothing but good and kind to them, like a nobody, imagine how they are in the world with people they're actually close to? One might say, "Well, that's different." I say, "No, not different at all." How we treat anyone is how we treat everyone.

I like that I have respect for myself.

I will not be that woman who waits and waits and waits for some idiot to tell me that he forgot to do something, that he forgot to follow through with what he said he'd follow through with...not again. How much do you suppose a person cares when they do the opposite of what they say they're going to do? How much do you suppose you're even in their thoughts? How much can you matter?

You don't matter. If you mattered at all, they'd be apologizing...they'd be doing, at the very least, that much.

Oh...but wait a minute...hmmm...I guess I should be putting myself in the other person's shoes? I guess I should give them the benefit of the doubt? You know...because we all make mistakes. That's true. But, what if a person keeps making the same ones? Am I required to tolerate that?


And, guess what? It's okay that they don't try to make things right. Because they've proven they don't matter, either.

Friday, November 27, 2015

Pearls & Secrets

I'm laughing. You should see how hard I'm laughing...

I apply rose lotion all over my body. I start with my thighs and move down my legs starting with the right and then the left. I apply and rub some on my belly and then my behind up along my chest making sure to give my breasts some extra attention. I smile. I'm amazed how I can laugh at myself. I'm also amazed at how well I can pamper myself, too. I'm really good at it.

I hear a voice, "Never give away your pearls for free, sweetie." I put my hair up and say, "Not a chance." I put on my silky panties with care. I'm in the moment. You can't rush such things. Well, you really shouldn't...

I grab for my bra. I like the way it feels between my fingers. I put it on with a little bit of grace.  A little bit of grace goes a long long way. I look good. I feel good. I've got what I need.

I'm ready.

I had an epiphany this afternoon and what an epiphany it was. The chains are gone. I wasn't really aware I even had them on until I had the revelation and suddenly, I felt a weight lift. Gravity wasn't holding me down. It had never been gravity. It was only ever my mind. Only my mind.

But, there were moments when my sense of gravity felt like it was coming from the outside and I can't ignore that. In a real sense, external circumstances did contribute to my heaviness. Sure, I must take responsibility for my own behavior but there are those we must be cautious of, who only want to take, who aren't upstanding folks, who don't care about you or your feelings.  In their eyes, you're nothing but eye candy or dessert. They want to devour but they haven't even asked permission for a taste...

My mind was playing tricks on me. I was beginning to feel unworthy. My sense of self-worth was being determined by how the other treated me. Not anymore!

I open the closet and decide to go with a sensual outfit. I'm not going anywhere. It's all for my pleasure, right here at home. I try on some high heel shoes. These fit just right, I think. I smile again.

I pour a glass of wine, play some soft music, light some candles. What have I got to lose? Nothing. But, I have everything to gain. I'm so lucky. You have no idea how lucky I am. In my misfortune, I see my luck. I see how the wheel turns. I see how nothing stays the same. I see how things move. I move with the ebb and flow of this life.

I feel good in my body. I'm at home in my body. I'm sacred with my body. I love how one can see but cannot touch. That's my power. Let him see. Let him want. Let him touch. He'll fail. He failed even before he began because I hold all the cards. I'm the gateway and no one's keeper.

Too bad he couldn't figure out that by giving a little, he would have received a whole lot in return.

I'm in tact. I've always been in tact. I decide. I decide. I decide who is worthy or unworthy.

I dance the night away like I've never danced before and the Moon watches. She watches and listens. I watch and listen. How mysterious this all is. I hold my head up high as much as I can because looking down doesn't produce much, except for bad feelings and bad tastes. I want more. I want depth. I've got enough of the superficial and the mundane. Give me some depth. And life delivers, unadulterated, every single time.

I bow my head and give thanks. That's the only time I'll look down...

Tuesday, November 24, 2015

The Prince of Fire

I walk along an open field. There is no path. I create my own. To my right are trees and on my far left, a body of water.  Where shall I go and what will I do? Here, it doesn't matter.

I remove my white silky scarf with my right hand and drag it along the grass as I walk. My thoughts are being carried by the wind. It's grey and blue out here...again. I let the wind do whatever it does. My hair moves like this and like that and it's just fine with me.

I turn around. No one else is here. I'm glad.

I drop the scarf.

I walk further along and remove my shoes. I leave a trail of my things behind me in case he decides to look for me. What will he do? What will he do? I wonder. I doubt he'll come. The disappointment is leaving me now. I prepared for this moment, this moment right here. It's okay if he does not come. I need a man. A man would come. So, I hang onto this wish like a piece of clothing wrapped around my body, to help me remember how that's exactly what I need. There is no room for compromise.

I keep walking...oh, how lovely the grass feels beneath my feet. Even the grass knows how to love. Too bad for man...A man who has not loved has not lived. A man who has not mourned love, does not know what love is. A man who has loved, who has truly loved, will learn to love again.

I'm tender with my purple dress as I set it down. I imagine it will still be there should I decide to turn back and retrieve it. As I walk, I imagine it laying there, listless and spent. I imagine the wind breathing life into it, creating tiny waves in the fabric. I smile. I come here so that the wind will breathe life into me, too.

I feel slightly cool and that's okay. I take a deep breath and then exhale in my usual way. So what if he doesn't come for me? No, he won't. He won't. I'm sure of it. He's never given me any indication that he would. One time, I disappeared for five weeks. He didn't call once. It's just rejection, I tell myself. It's only rejection. This time too shall pass.

He's a free spirit. He comes and he goes. He's like the wind.

And unlike the wind...because he thinks he's free but he really isn't. Only a fool believes he's really free.

It's alright that I'm not wanted. It's alright that he isn't interested in me. It's alright that he's only looking for a good time. It's alright that he'd rather laugh than cry. It's alright that he wants to keep things light and superficial.

But, I'm not superficial. I'm not free. Nor am I like the wind.

I can't even expect anything from him. I want him to do without me having to ask. He's never once bought me a coffee. He's offered but...I'm regressing...I'm being petty...or am I?

He doesn't believe in love. He won't give unless he's been given to. And what shall I give him? This man who can't even keep his word when he says he'll be back and then doesn't return? I end up being the stupid one for waiting. I become the fool. Tell me, what shall I give him? Shall I ask him out? So we can have a good time today and then tomorrow, he ignores me? How can people not see that how we do anything is how we do everything? I won't take that risk. To invest in a person who doesn't care.  And, I'm not like other women. I won't call and make a fuss but inside, it's been imprinted. I don't forget. Three strikes and he's out. Well, maybe more than a few strikes...Ah, he probably wouldn't even mind. As soon as he got a whiff that he couldn't get what he wanted from me, he bailed. Maybe he wanted to see if we were sexually compatible. What guy wouldn't want to discover the truth of that? But, I'm a lady and he works backwards...

More clouds make their way now. I long for rain. It won't fail me and sure enough, I feel some tiny drops on my cheeks and lips and on my palms, as I lift them up.

We're two different people, he and I. I remove my panties now and my bra. The rain is coming down. Down. Down. Down. I belong to the Earth. I belong to the elements. I belong to the Heavens. He couldn't handle someone like me, anyway. And he probably knew that.

Maybe I'm truly the free one after all...

Tuesday, October 20, 2015

Empty spaces

I say something nasty to him. I defend myself and then walk away, as fast as possible to the other end of the building. I know this building well. I've been in it so many times. I know where all the stairs are, where they lead to. I know every passage way, every exit sign. He doesn't.

But, I expect the impossible. I expect him to come for me. I expect him to find me. I doubt he even got up to follow me.

I notice a statuette of Mary on the floor behind a glass room. That's where I'll go, I think. That's where I'll sit. That's where I'll wait for him. When I finally find a little spot on the floor, I look through the glass wall, but I don't see Mary anymore. To my left is a small shrine. I see Buddha and other symbols that comfort me, for a moment.

Someone inside the room draws the curtains. Now, I can't see anything. Then I realize, there's a class of small children learning a new language. I'm guessing.

I feel out of place. And, he never arrives. I stare at the grey carpet. I notice white walls, everywhere. I don't like this place. It feels cold. I feel cold. I feel lost. I feel disconnected. I feel alone. It's always the same thing, day in and day out. There's no colour here. Where's the colour...the colour of my life? My Soul? Is this all I'm made up of? Even Mary didn't linger here for too long...

Thursday, October 8, 2015

Truths & Lies

I grab for some tissue as fast as I can to wipe off the blood trickling down my leg. The blood gets everywhere. I only have a few pieces of tissue - small squares. It reminds me of Cuba, when I headed for the lady's room and a man outside guarding the door gave me two pieces of toilet paper for a small fee...I panic. I wonder where the blood is coming from because now I see droplets over my dress. I move the fabric to the side to avoid the blood touching and staining my navy blue dress. I think how I'm more worried about the possibility of my dress getting stained than the blood on my body running down my leg...

There's no more paper. And, no one's around to help. I keep wiping but I only spread the blood. I see three women in the distance. I feel like they can see me but they don't move towards me. They just stare.

I think of him now, as I wipe desperately. I'm wiping my shoe, my grey ankle boot. I don't know why I bother. I'm only making things worse.

Now, I see his vehicle. I remember wiping down his vehicle clean...being sure to remove every spot so it shone nicely in the sunlight. His car is definitely clean...but, I'm not. I'm full of spots and he's not around to help me remove them...

What do I do? I just sit there. No wait. I find a quiet space, away from the window. I need some privacy. I need some alone time. I am alone.  I take off my clothes. It's too late to salvage these garments now. I set them aside. I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I walk past one of the rooms in this large house. I can't find the washroom. Where's the washroom?

Finally. I enter the space like it's a sanctuary. I turn on the faucet and get inside the tub. I draw the curtains. The water feels good on my skin. I'm taken aback by how red my blood is. Wow. I see the opening. I see where the blood is coming from. I understand. I understand. It's all making sense. I feel a little faint but I'll be okay.

The water cleanses me whole and I smile. I smile. I'm perfectly fine all on my own. I look at my body as though it was the first time. Today, I like my body. I think I had it wrong before. My astral body houses my physical body and not the other way around...

I'm free. I'm free. Free to love again. I've always been free to love. Who's going to take that away from me? No one. Certainly, not me.

Monday, August 17, 2015

'Casual' Relationships

We're together in his home.

He points to a house outside and says, "That's where I live." I'm confused and think - Oh, he has two homes. And, so close together??

I keep looking at the house outside. I notice the upstairs curtains are drawn open and wide. I imagine seeing someone come to the window. I imagine catching the person's silhouette. I imagine seeing a shadow, a glimpse of a person. I keep staring at it and then think to tell a joke by saying, "Oh, who's that woman standing at the window?" But, I don't. I don't dare...because a part of me is worried I already know the truth, that if I see a woman standing at that window, she must be his.

I understand myself in that moment. I understand a fundamental truth about myself. I don't want to ever be the 'other woman'.

He takes my hands and we both kneel down. I know what's coming next. I want but, not like this. It looks like we're in that space between the kitchen and living room. I instantly feel a disconnect, like he's playing a role, the same role he plays with every woman. I don't feel his heart. I see that he doesn't 'see' me. He only connects with my body but he fails to see that I can't connect with him unless he's connected to all of me. 

I immediately think - Oh no, I shouldn't be here. I shouldn't be here. I must go. I need to go. My integrity must remain intact. I will not give of myself so freely. He isn't worthy. I must have seen his smile a hundred times but here, it wreaks of meaninglessness. I can't engage. I'm trying to extract something more from his eyes, those hands...but, I can't. There's nothing to extract. I can't take what he isn't offering. I can't take what he's unwilling to give. I can't take what isn't there. I can't absorb. I can't process. I'm just a body. I'm only a body. I'm nothing more than this him - he, who seeks pleasure.

Suddenly, there's a knock on the door and he looks at me. I smile back at him. He turns to answer it. I'm surprised. It dawns on me that I'm in my underwear. I try to conceal myself. It's a man and three children. They enter the home. I think - why wouldn't he want to protect me, conceal me or encourage me to go into another room so that I don't feel exposed? I see that he doesn't cherish me. But, he doesn't...he doesn't lift a finger to show me I'm worth something to him, which means I must not mean all that much. He doesn't value me. I try to enter another room through the hallway, discreetly. The man and three children walk past but they don't look at me. They don't even know that I'm there. I am invisible. 

I notice two boxes of tampons and pads on the floor by the wall. I wonder who they belong to. I pretend it doesn't bother me too see these tampons and pads.

The next thing I remember is being at a friend's home. It's a gathering. I notice some of the men from my neighborhood cafe sitting on one of the sofas. I see him sitting on the opposite sofa with a woman. I'm standing by a kitchen table. I look at him. He doesn't look at me. The woman he's with laughs. Her hair is up in a bun. She's beautiful. A couple comes to the kitchen table to greet me. I hadn't noticed they were there before. I continue to look over at him but he never looks my way. He pretends not to know me.

He doesn't have to pretend, though, does he? Truth is, he doesn't know me.

Monday, July 27, 2015

Sex & Love Are Not The Same

It's so interesting to a person can enter your life and want things from you he hasn't earned yet.  It's set up as a transaction right from the beginning. They come with their preconceived notions of how people women are...and think they can turn the tide in their favour knowing full well they'd have to bend or break the rules to get others to comply.

They turn on the charm, the charisma, the sweet talk...but they have nothing to show for any of it. And, I'm supposed to smile and think I've found a goldmine? Because they're honouring me with their presence?! I ought to feel lucky? Flattered? That they're giving me attention? Really? Is that it? Man is a coward! And a thief! He's got psychological issues that run so deep, no one can save him. The moment a woman shows her intelligence, he walks the other way because he can't stand being challenged. I laugh because that's exactly what should happen when a man behaves so egotistically. Who I am helps to weed out what I don't want in my life.

The problem occurs when a woman thinks she can change a man, fix a man...when she thinks she can get him to commit to her. Bad idea! The only person left hurting is the one trying to change what IS. Why chase after a man who doesn't *really* want you? What good is he if he doesn't ask about you, if he isn't concerned with who and what you are? If he doesn't keep his word? If he acts like a fool or an immature child?! What good is he to you? When you chase, and he only ever gives you crumbs, you subconsciously tell yourself you're unworthy.  You tell yourself that if he admires and is into you, then that validates your worth. But, that's not right. Let him go. He's nothing but an energy sucker. If you have to wonder how he feels about you, he's not feeling much of anything. He's not good for you. He only wants to bed you. He only wants a warm body by his side. He only wants, wants, wants...and he'll take if you're giving. So, stop giving...not unless you want to feel depleted.

Yeah, he said I was complicated, difficult, that I was hard work. Damn right I am. If I was too simple, or rather, too easy, he would have had his way with me already. I've told you a few times before. Man is cheap.  He wants but he doesn't want to pay the price. And, if you give away freely, he won't value any of it! If I don't have my honour, how will I be honoured? Once he's had his way with you, he'll throw you away like a piece of trash. Why? Because he set it up right from the get go that you didn't have a right to expect anything from him. If you want a one night stand, go for it...but I don't. Hey, if you want to continue giving each other pleasure from time to time, go for it, too! But, don't think for one second those moments will ever translate into anything more substantial.  I'm not that woman.

I decided long ago that I will not allow myself to be defiled. I don't care what he looks like, what he says, what he owns...none of it makes any difference to me. If he can't look me straight in the eye when I ask him a question, if he runs away like a scared little boy when I ask for clarification, I have no use for him. His good looks are waning, ladies...that's why he gravitates towards women who can take care of that he doesn't have to wine and dine them.  And, it's not that you need wining and dining, it's that you're worth so much more than the silly games he plays. They're lonely men who have no interest in you, only what you can offer them.

The question becomes, What do they have to offer you? And, is what they're offering worth the price you'll have to pay for getting to know them? You'll never know this kind of man. He won't let you in. He doesn't want to be tied down. He doesn't want the attachment. He doesn't want you. You're just another face among other faces.  You're just another notch on his belt. A good woman will pay the higher her detriment. An average man will walk away and never look back, once his ego is satiated...And off he goes in search of his next comfort. That's the difference. I don't know about you. But, it looks like a no brainer to me.  What you want and what you deserve, is out there. It is. I promise you. You'll know you've found a gem when you're both on the same page and you don't have to wonder how he feels. You'll just know it. There won't be any doubts. Remember these lyrics - Stevie Nicks sang them well...Lovers only love you when they're playing...

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Romeo & The Macho Man

Romeo will come chase you. He'll reveal his intentions right from the beginning because his heart rules. He's in love with love. He's in love with romance. He's in love with you. He recognizes innocence. This appeals to him. He wants to protect. He wants to adore. He wants to cherish. Yes, he may live in the clouds. And, so what? His feet are also firmly planted in the ground. He brings the dream down and manifests it into the world. He'll die for love. You won't even blame him for it because when he loved, he loved well. He loved with passion and compassion. He loved with his being. He was sincere. He was devoted. He was a go getter. No time to waste. He opens his heart knowing full well he may be wounded. He's no wimp. 

Not so with a macho man. You'll have to do the chasing because woman is lesser than. His ego is so huge, he can't see beyond himself. Nothing sexy about that. He may move just right. He may look like a protector, but, he isn't one. He's only out for himself. He can't handle a modern woman. He doesn't understand why his pick up lines don't work. He doesn't understand how some women want nothing he has to offer. The truth is, he's got nothing.  Maybe, he's got money. So what, when you have your own? Maybe, he's got charm...but, that doesn't last. Sooner or later, the cracks start to show. And you see, he's nothing but a lonely man. He desires intimacy but on his terms...never yours.  You'll have to go crawling for some crumbs and after he's given you some morsels, he'll call you a slut...for bending down.  A real woman never chases a man. A real man always keeps his word. Too many macho men around who don't keep their word. They're pigs and a real woman must never throw her pearls before swine. She will lose in 10 minutes what it took her to gain in years...Unlike a man, when a woman falls and loses her dignity, she really has nothing left. Because this IS a man's world...and it's all animal fare through this lens.

It's not enough that you want him. It won't be enough that he finds you attractive. A macho man can't commit. He'll tell you he's been hurt by the past. Who hasn't? They're just little boys looking for their mother. They set the bar so high, they can never meet the ideal woman because she doesn't exist. Or does she? Because you see, he can't have it both ways but he wants it both ways. He wants the virgin and the whore. A macho man will confuse you. He may say all the right things in the beginning to lead you to believe you two have something going on but in reality, there's nothing of substance. You have to see it for what it is. A game. And, he wants all the control. So let him have it...all by himself. Let him rule his empty castle.

You need someone to care and if you have to beg for care and tenderness...ooh la la, you're heading down the wrong path, my friend. His main concern is that you want him. If you want him, if you show that you want him, then he knows he's still attractive to the opposite sex. It gets to his head. He tells himself, "Wow, I still have it." It's not about you, sweetheart. It's only ever about him. He's no family man. He's no knight in shining armor.  He's just a man...nothing more and nothing less...than a man. He loves women but not the way a woman wants or ought to be loved. 

If he cares for you, he'll call. If he wants more than just a fling, he'll call - but, that's only IF you haven't given yourself away to make him believe you're some easy fluff or floozy.  But, still, he wants you to go after him. It makes him feel good about himself. What an ego! There's no love in his world. That may or may not come at a later time. What does that even mean? He wants a warm body to lie next to. He wants to be served like he's some King but he hasn't earned his place. He thinks by virtue of the fact that he's a man, he's entitled to 'good service'.  He wants to be worshipped but only a King can be bestowed with such an honor because he doesn't ask for it!! Nor does he make any demands, and certainly not of a Queen!

Sunday, June 7, 2015

By The Light Of The Moon

He looks so the light of the moon.  He smells so the light of the moon.  The waves sound the light of the moon.

I like how I the light of the moon.  I like how he makes me the light of the moon.  He touches me just the light of the moon.  I take my fingers and caress his arm.  I marvel at his the light of the moon.  His eyes sparkle and glitter and my breath longs and the light of the moon.

I want him to take my clothes the light of the moon.  He asks me for permission.  I take his hand to my blouse.  He knows what to do.  All is the light of the moon.

He whispers in my ear.  He talks with his hands.

What will the sun reveal in the morning? I fear that what the sun reveals will not reflect the essence of what took the light of the moon.  I can't believe a word he the light of the moon.  It's a risk.  It's a risk...a risk to bring the shades down low only to bring them back the light of day.

What if the truth is shady? What if the truth is an illusion? What if I get swept away by nothing but shadows and romance? What if I was only ever floating in the air? What if I hit the ground hard when I turn the lights on?

Ah...what if when I roll over, he isn't there by my side? What trickery! How unfair. How unjust. Or, is it?

I made the choice to stand with the light of the moon.  I wanted to feel all those things I the light of the moon.  I desired to touch his arm and marvel at his the light of the moon.  I took pleasure, as he did, under the light of the moon.  So what if he isn't there in the morning? I'm still in tact.

But...what if when I roll over, he IS there by my side? What if, when the sun comes to greet me, I see the truth exactly as it is? And, what if this truth is good and honorable? But, I'll never know, now will I...if I don't take the risk...and stand with the light of the moon...

Friday, March 20, 2015

The Nine of Pentacles

I am alone in this space and it suits me just fine.  I have everything I need, although not necessarily everything that I want.  And, that's okay...I place my books on the living room table and head for the divan.

Yes, it can get lonely.  The loneliness is a reminder of a longing that no one can satiate.  I long for its own sake. It builds character, refinement and beauty.

I remove my clothes and set them to the side.  I stretch my arms out and close my eyes.  I am alive.  I am protected.  The fabric of the sofa feels soft against my skin.  I take a deep breath and then sigh.  I can hear the sound of chirping birds through the open window.  I can smell the scent of roses from the garden and a hint of sandalwood from yesterday's incense burning.

I remember what he said to me when we first met, "Love is too expensive. I'll never give that way, again.  I can't.  I won't."  I tell him I don't need his money. I can take care of myself. I do take care of myself.  He thinks I'm pretty...kind...generous...intelligent...but, that his heart is off limits.  Am I not worthy of love?  Or, is it he who feels unworthy? I know what he wants but he dare not pay for what he wants because he's cheap and I'm not.  I don't need him or anyone...not like that.  I deserve better.  I would rather be alone and content in my own being than in company and be miserable.

Thursday, January 29, 2015


I sit on the beach...alone...which suits me just fine.  The waves keep me company.  These waves are my companions.  The wind is right here, too.  It's a cloudy day...well, not really, but here, right here, in this space, yes, it's cloudy...and I like it that way.  I want to delve into this scene.  What's there to delve into when the sun shines bright and illuminates everything?  No, the greys are conducive to writing, conducive to romance.  The sun is for children.

It's time I take off my clothes, again.  I hear that voice, "Why must you always take off your clothes?" I reply, "Fuck you! I'll take off my clothes if I wish to.  You're not welcome here...unless you want to watch."  The voice continues, "I'm not your enemy.  I simply help you see."  "Well, then listen to me...I take off my clothes as a symbol of freedom, of vulnerability, of spirituality.  This is my sacred space and I will do what I please."

I feel the passing of time.  I know they say time doesn't really exist but it has to.  It has to.  Everywhere I look, I see the face of time, how it's left an imprint on everything and everyone.  I see my lines, my curves, my scars...lines, curves and scars that were not there so many years ago.  In the moment, we cannot see nor receive these subtle and sometimes, drastic changes...but, always in retrospect, always when looking "back", we can "feel" the impact that these changes have made.

And then you see it, you see what you hadn't anticipated...that you have changed, too.  You are not your former self.  It looks like a shell of a person or a part of yourself, you've shed, something you've discarded...not, intentionally, though.  It was never intentional.  It just kind of happened...over time.  I don't recognize her.  I realize how wise it would have been for me to be gentle with her, not to be so harsh, so hard.  Maybe, that could have done wonders for me in this now.  But, I can't go back.  I try not to be so harsh as I look back, try not to judge her and her silly ways, her naive ways.  I try to be kind but there are moments...moments when I want to yell at her for having been so stupid.

But, how fair is that? It isn't.  Because I was who I was when I was...and I have to accept that, embrace it all.  It served a purpose.  I am here in my new skin and I am aware of a process I wasn't aware of then, of which I am grateful.  It can be sad, though...feeling a disconnect with the outer world, with the "other".  That's why I sit here, by the beach, with my body bare.  I take in the magic of this landscape, like food.  These are impressions, impressions I receive through my imagination.  If I don't make the effort, I starve.  I dry up...shrivel up.  No one is a true giver, not the way Nature offers herself to us, everyday in so many different ways.

Death will come.  Death will come, as sure as the sun will rise - in my time.  What will I leave behind?  I hope it's more than this body, this body that will rot away and return to the earth.  It saddens me that all things created by man MUST come to an end.  I need to lighten up some of this heaviness, I suppose.  Why do I need to sugarcoat the truth? Why not accept it for what it is, so that it doesn't bring me so much sadness?  Then again, what's wrong with some melancholy? It produces some of the greatest poets...poets who can see beyond the clouds, poets who can make use of these clouds, poets who can make you want to love these clouds...clouds that are just passing through...just passing through. 

Ah, finally...the rain.  I get up and take a few steps towards the water.  I'm alive.  I close my eyes and tilt my head back.  The water of the earth and the water of the skies come together to create the perfect music.  Let it rain a little bit longer.  Let me feel myself and my power.  Let this moment purify me.

I turn around and see my lonely sword upon the insignificant it now seems...No, wait a minute.  It isn't insignificant at all.  I notice how the blade shines in the distance and I remember...I've only just laid down my arms, temporarily.  I will retrieve it soon and it will want to be retrieved for the sword and I, are one.  I smile as I walk out of the water, and under the rain, towards my sword.  Here, as I said, I have no use for clothes...

Monday, January 19, 2015

A Real Lady

Sometimes, love hurts.  "For you, I'd bleed myself dry."  Yes, that sounds right.  Love is like a rose and a rose has got its thorns.  You can't have a sweet smelling rose without prickly thorns.  It's impossible.  You're supposed to want to give it your all.  You don't even question because giving it your all comes naturally.  You love for its own sake.  It makes you happy to love.  It lifts you up to love.  It feeds your soul to love.  To love is its own reward.  You ask for nothing in return.  You love with all your heart and this love heals you from the inside out.  It isn't cheap.  It isn't conditional.  It's sacred.  It's beauty.  It transcends.  And, you have to pay the price...not with money because money is not worth a thing, here...but, with your soul, with your heart, because that's what's required.

And then some asshole comes along and hurts you.  He makes you question.  He makes you want to build a nice, secure, solid wall around your heart.  He toughens you up. He makes you see a truth. He makes you see what's out there.  He makes you doubt.  He makes you feel worthless.  He makes you feel ugly, unattractive, small and insignificant.  But, he's just a man.  He's just a thief and he has his own part to play, too.  You tell yourself you'll never cross that line again.  You tell yourself it's not worth it.  You tell yourself you won't be able to handle something like that again.  But, that's a lie.  And, he's just a man.  Love requires a certain kind of vulnerability.  If you don't take the risk, you'll never taste that sweetness again.  That's the truth.  And remember, he was only ever a man.

Don't let anyone ever tell you that what you seek doesn't exist.  We create our own reality.  What you seek is out there, waiting for you.  Make no mistake.  So what if it doesn't last?  Nothing is meant to last forever, anyway.  Why wouldn't you take the risk again?  So what if it tears at your insides?  Anything that can do that also has the potential of bringing you the greatest joy you've ever known. But, people want to play it safe.  No one wants to pay the price because people are cheap.  People are afraid.  People are broken.  You'll never be satiated, your thirst will never be quenched, by playing it safe. 

Do not compromise for a night of warmth.  Do not compromise for a night of passion.  Do not compromise for a night of touch.  You'll regret it in the morning.  And, he'll be long gone.  In your mind, you actually think that a night with you can change a man.  But, you'd be wrong.  He only wants what he wants and what he wants is not aligned with what you need.  Do you think when he speaks the truth, that this "truth" is somehow better because he points out to you, as a matter of fact, that he isn't interested in the "real"? He doesn't believe in the real.  Do you think that this gives you permission to "lower" yourself in order to accommodate his desires? In order to feed an illusion that you matter to him?

Those lonely nights will come when you wonder whether they'll ever end, whether something of substance can take their least for a little while.  I tell's never too late.  Breathe magic into your own life.  Create things of beauty.  Work and work hard.  God helps those who help themselves.  You're never truly alone.  I'm not naive.  I'm not stupid.  I'm not a piece of trash.  I can take care of myself.  Make sure that you can, too.  And when he comes, when the one you've been "waiting for", arrives, which he will, don't guard yourself too fiercely because of the past.  He's out there, and he'll be ready, just like you and your heart will open up.  This time you'll be more cautious which is good.  Let him fight for you.  Don't show desperation.  He needs you more than you need him!  You owe this to yourself.  You deserve the best.  You deserve to be respected for your mind and your heart.  You deserve to be his only one.  Don't settle for less.  If he wants easy, he can get "easy" anywhere and at anytime but it can't be with you...because you're a lady with essence, with spirit, with grace.  Don't let anyone take that away from you!  If you don't respect yourself, who will?

Wednesday, January 7, 2015


I was robbed almost three years ago on my way to work. A man held a gun to my chest and demanded I give him my money.

I'm glad I had money to give him. In that space between seeing the gun and asking for my money, felt like an eternity. What would he do? Everything runs through your mind in an instance. I was relieved when he told me he wouldn't hurt me. And, he didn't...not physically, anyway.

It was a warm spring morning. I walked along a residential street, the same street I had taken for years, on the same street of my neighbourhood cafe, but more north.

He asked me for directions. He was standing thirty feet away from me and after I told him where the street was, motioning with my arm and with some agitation in my voice, he drew closer and faster. That's when I knew something was happening.

Suddenly, my life is at the mercy of some guy...some guy who probably needs a fix. Alcohol? Drugs? Who really knows? What I do know is that he changed my life. When death stares at you in the face, life takes on new hues and shades, new colours, new meanings. You're never the same, least, for a little while.

I say "a little while," because life does go back to "normal", your kind of normal. Life resumes once more. But for a little while, for a short period of time, one feels invincible. One is fearless. Things you used to worry about are no longer a concern. Things you took very lightly carry more weight. They become paramount. The breath of life is all enveloping and consuming. Beauty and ugliness exist simultaneously. They're not just cliches you utter. You understand their meaning! On the one hand, life is bigger and brighter and on the other, it's smaller and dimmer. And then there's that space between the two, where neither is affected by the other. It all just IS.

You don't want to waste any time because you can see how precarious, how fragile this life really is. You want to be understood. You want there to be meaning. You want to be seen. I don't know how to stress this last part enough. You...I want to be seen.

But, who sees? If I don't give this meaning, if I don't make this moment important, if I don't make it count, who will? Who can? It can only be me. It can only ever be me. What if I had died that day? And, for what? I wouldn't be here today, in this cafe, in this space, exploring that day, those feelings. I wouldn't have met the people I've met. They couldn't have had an impact on me. They couldn't have changed my world.

I lie when I say, "No one's gonna change my world." That can't be true. Because they already have. Change can be subtle or abrupt. People do change our world, especially when we get too comfortable out of fear of venturing out. They rattle our chains. They give us, sometimes inadvertently, a sense of freedom. They give us what we need even though it's not always what we want or how we envisioned things for ourselves. We don't always have a say as to how life will unfold. There are risks involved. What if we fail? But, what if we succeed? There's beauty in anticipation, in going through the process, in walking the path, one day at a step at a time.

I've wasted so much time. Life is too short. It really is. I know that. And when I forget, life reminds me...

So, please don't ask me to compromise my integrity. Don't ask me to be someone I'm not. I can't give you that. I'll never give anyone that. I am who I am, and that has to be enough, more than enough. I am life. I am beauty. I am woman. I am the good, the bad and the ugly. I am all things and all things are me.

Sunday, January 4, 2015

The Wholeness of Love

I take some sea salt and pour it into the water. I wait for the water to fill the tub. The heat creates steam and the mirror begins to fog. I place one leg into the tub and then the other. The warmth is comforting and soothing. I lay down, my legs outstretched and I smile. I'm so happy and at peace, here. This is heaven on earth. I sense where I come from. I know why I was born. In this here and now, all there is, is everything. In this moment, I expand to fill the entire room. I belong.

The water knows me. She's nourishing. She feeds all those places nothing and no one else can. I take my brush and comb my hair down, slowly...sensually. I wear a seashell necklace. Tea light candles burn all around. Each flame represents a piece of me. I decide when to blow them out.

I take my hands to my chest. I feel my highs and my lows. I take some pomegranate oil and massage it into my arms, my breasts, stomach and pelvis. I rub some oil on my face, then take a cloth to wipe it off...again, slowly...respectfully and with sensuality. In this space, I feel humbled.

I can hear the rain and I remember. The sound of the rain helps me see how alone I really am. It's okay because I'm taking in every little thing around me. I'm soaking it all in. This is my life and it's perfect just the way it is, even if it isn't exactly the way I want it or had hoped for. So what? I'm not really alone. Ever.

People just mess things up when you let them in. Nothing's gonna change my world...No one's gonna change my world. Where I come from, people are up front. They don't feel the need to play games or lie. When they care for you, you don't have to wonder or guess whether they do. You just know that they do. Their actions tell you they do. It's in their voice, their gestures. Eyeing your breasts, hips and legs, doesn't count, although it can be flattering...sort of.

Those days of innocence are over, huh? Not all women are the same. Not all women are gold diggers. And not all women will spread their legs to avoid having to feel their aloneness. Not all men are pigs. But, if he is one, he doesn't respect your mind or your heart. He only sees your pretty face, only your breasts underneath your clothes...your legs and derriere. That's all. And if he's jaded by a past love, you can forget about him. He's too guarded to ever open up his heart to you. He'll never trust you. Time heals all wounds but when we love, our hearts can heal faster. I forget where I read that. A man who tells you he will never fall in love again is also telling you that he doesn't want a commitment. He wants to keep it light, go with the flow...have strings attached.

Well, I value my mind. I value my heart. I value my body. And, he's got to value my mind. He's got to value my heart. I already know he values my body...but, that isn't enough, not for me. Ah, call me naive. Call me stupid. Call me ignorant. It makes no difference. I deserve better.

So what if he thinks you're beautiful? So what if he thinks you're "different" than the others? So what? How much can that mean if he doesn't ask about you? If he doesn't want to know your name? If he doesn't want to read what you are? If he doesn't want to know who you are? If he doesn't want to be asked about his own life? How can he really be interested in you as a person? He can't be. He just can't be.

Attraction pulls and creates a desire to know more, or at least, that's what I thought. Good for you if that's what you want. To me, it's empty and vacant. There are no promises, no guarantees, no expectations. But, I do have an expectation and if this expectation isn't met, I walk away because I respect myself. Who's gonna respect you if you don't respect yourself? What a turn off it is to see desperation in grown men. What a turn off to feel their eyes on me except for my face. What a turn off to see that I just finished talking and they didn't hear a thing I said! They all talk the same language using different words. Some come off more sincere but then when you take a good hard look, they're all saying the same meaningless thing, reducing everything to nothing! You're not a diamond in the rough, unless you believe you are! I shine bright!

I believe in love. No matter what. And maybe, I'm a little guarded, too. Maybe the walls around my heart are tough and secure. I figure, though, when someone truly cares, they'll help me tear down these walls...slowly, carefully, passionately, respectfully, humbly...sensually. Because more than anything, I want to be accepted. All of me. Only one part of me, won't do.