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As I stand

As I stand, seething with animal rage,
claws flexed and jaws dripping ready for your face,
it is simple:
I would fight you to the death.
Me or you,
one or the other.
Nothing else to be said.
I would tear you apart piece by piece
And yet here as I pace
behind my line that I have drawn
I will defend to the end
you will not cross I have sworn.
And I pace up and down
growling, snarling at your delusions,
there is nothing I can say that makes any difference in any way.
Oh,  go away you fucking fuckwit, and do not return…

But you won’t, we can’t.
And I growl snarling at your face,
I hate you for not being able to see what I see,
I hate you for staying colluded with patriarchy.
And I hate you more so for your projections of hysteria and insanity,
your pointing and labeling,
and your judgmental dictating.
I salivate at the thought of tearing you apart once again,
I salivate at the thought of ripping you apart with my claws.

Yet this cub of ours loves you,
she adores the ground you delude and petrude upon,
she worships the way you unquestionably move on.
I can’t keep her behind my line,
she won’t come back here –
this place is full of my pacing, snarling, hating fear…
Fear?
Fear?
What do I fear?
Fear her being lost to me, gone to the other side,
Fear that I will be swallowed by this terrible pride
that I can only tear you apart,
seek retribution, nothing more.
Fear that I can’t live with this
whilst you function so effortlessly in this oppressive score.
Functioning you are.
Functioning whilst I am crippled with rage,
snarling through my breath.

There is no place for her here,
amongst this seething burning churning fear.
If I want her to know me I have to be clear of my hate.
I see that I am grieving that I can’t do this with you,
grieving that you can’t,
grieving that you won’t
and raging that you can continue with such limited wisdom available to you.
You just plow on regardless,
blocking me out,
leaving me to poison myself with my righteous doubt.
I want to destroy you.
I want to defeat you.
I want to publicly, wholesomely, defiantly make mince meat of you.
That you can continue moving through in this life away from me,
functioning well in this system that maintains its oppressive intent upon me.
Suppressing those things that give freedom, agency:
surrender, non-attachment, emotive being, feeling and the unknown.
This system that keeps us from the reality of our whole,
you function so well here, you must be so proud.
I hate you.
And more so I hate that she sees me as the dysfunction and not this governance that keeps you safely endowed.

So here with my claw I draw a line in the sand,
here is where I say to you I let not your energy stand.
Here your delusion does not cross again.
Here your nonsense does not touch me.
Here I can let go of you validating or oppressing me.
Here I cut you out of my possible reality,
knowing full well that she brings it back to me.
But I won’t question any more my standing on all fours.
I stand here clear, in touch with my claws
as your projections fall from me
and only my strength endures.
I am mighty, I am awesome, powerful and sound.
I move on now, it is done.
I look forward to her returning in fullness of fun.

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judge movement

i put a black mark against you,
i struck you down, not worth my breath.
i put a black mark against you so i knew where not to go.
i put a black mark against you becasue you showed me your ignorance,
i put a black mark against you because i knew you could not carry me,
i put a black mark against you and turned my back on you.
i spat on you in disgust as i walked away from you
your worth, nothing now in my eyes.
i put a black mark on you to save me time in my search out of this hell
i put a black mark on you as i went deeper into the darkness.
furthering my search for the wisdom to carry me
the holders that will hold me,
house me and bathe me.
but not you, no not you
you, i put a black mark against and turned my back upon.

darker and deeper i trod, casting aside your worthless beings till i could hardly see.
and then, out of the darkness,
out of reach of my desperate grappling hands
you came back into my line of sight
and i was suddenly shook.
somehow i saw a glint of your worth,
and then, somehow i saw that the black marks were not any where but my heart.

i asked them why did you mark me?
and they said,
we did not mark you, we are just the spaces in you that have not been touched
we are the places where you long to be held
we are the places inside you that you long for to be understood
we are the places that you long to speak from
we are the places you have never been.
and then they said, speak us, speak us and do not be afraid.
you have nothing to fear from speaking this,
your spaces are others spaces, are all spaces, are one
bring your voice to them and be heard
bring your voice.
so i did.

and i told you i put a black mark on you but it was mine.
i put a black mark on you but now it is time for me to tell you how i actually felt about you
it is time i tell you that i thought nothing of you
that i was only after being carried by you.
and you showed me you were not able
and i turned my back on you.

so now there is something i see from you that i covered with my black heart
i see you are carrying something for me.
in your eyes i see it looks precious, maybe the way out,
possibly freedom.
my heart is beginning to open to this what seems minute possibility;
that there is a way out of this hell,
in the meantime, i wish for one thing and one thing only:
that you remember –
that black mark that i gave you, it’s mine.

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imagine loving this

just imagine loving this

just imagine loving this,
this life i see of total failure and mess.
just imagine seeing it as beautiful and being inspired.
where i see problems and work, to see nothing but unity and comradeship
here where i perceive i have dug myself into a hole, there could be fun and laughter and joy
and yet all i see is correction,
all i see is that which needs to shift.
part of me just wants a total overhaul,
a complete makeover or a way out of here running as fast as i can muster.
to go, to leave here where i am exhausted by the responsibility to my fellow beings,
to be free of these burdens.
to be gone from here seduces me daily,
i see all my mistakes,
constantly.

i am flooded with criticism,
i am a failure in everything i do,
i am lost to success for the standard my system is geared to is impossible.
and yet, even with this awareness, i do not still trust.
i still believe somewhere that it is necessary to be absolutely faultless to be loved
and so it is through this lens that i wake today
and get angry with the children for the strategies that they have had to put in place to cope with what they are faced with.
i get angry because they can’t be perfect and loving and considerate and kind
like little yogi’s meditating after they have eaten the most nutritious breakfast they could manifest, harvested from the garden that they were inspired to sow.
why are they not doing this?
because i have not shown them how to.
so i see my failings.
they remind me of how much work i have to do to be faultless.
they remind me how exausted i am,
of how much responsibility i am taking for them.
and to the side of this and around it is the sense of hopelessness this creates,
the lack of connection this perpetuates.
the distance the resentment
the hurt and the lies.
oh how the trauma cycle abides so strongly in my house today
on and on.
there is no joy in this loop,
there is no laughter to be heard.
there is no fun here,
no acceptance, just a long and constant struggle through the relentless shit.

but oh, we could jump to permissivness!
we could jump to whatever!
lets just forget about this all and have a good time…

and that didn’t work.

so now it is working with turning this around.
working to move from this place of blame and correction
into a new epoch of awareness and loving direction.
we can do this guys because i am learning that i am beautiful.
we can do this guys because i am knowing that i am whole
how ever i show up.
i am practicing to see this in you as you mirror my selves.
i am practicing seeing the light in you so that the learning becomes effortless.

so if you see me telling me you are not perfect
i wish to be reminded you are.
and if you see me doubting you i need reminding that i am using standards impossible to reach,
set when i was surrounded  with judgement and blame.
now there is the possibility of self acceptance and non-judgement around me,
now i unfold.

beauty is not a standard set that can be quantified and gained,
it is an essence that emerges when all conditioning is seen as obsolete,
it is the light that resides in all things.
i am loved however i am.
this is my practice.
we are here, somewhere new, were the possibilities are multiplying.
i am beautiful.
the light in me salutes the light in you.
namaste.

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i ask

i ask only that i am gentle to myself.
i ask only that i am kind to myself,
i ask only that i forgive myself when i cause harm.
when i hurt you i ask that i love myself,
when i hate you i ask that i love myself,
when i wound you i ask that i can hold and comfort myself.
i ask for unconditional love for myself.
trusting that all else falls into place as it is

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who am i?

i don’t know who i am and i’m afraid of telling anyone.
if i tell you you will see that all i am is a farce
a face
a facard
a wall
an armor to my soul.
and there feels like there is nothing on the otherside
but a small abandoned baby
who has every thing yet to learn.
everything.
the thing that tells her she is worth something –
that is everything.
that she is something
not that she will become something,
that there can be something that she could be.
that she is something,
that she is everything.
so i go back to not knowing who i am
because part of me continues to believe that i have to become something
to be worth anything
and so i actually become nothing.
i am no one
and yet in my body i have someone
who can become what anyone wants me to be.
i am longing,
i am yearning,
i am craving rejoining because i cannot see the whole within me,
i cannot see the worth within me.
i was taught it belonged out there and i swear
i don’t know who i am.
and i can’t trust anything that comes out of my system.
i judge it all as diseased,
i believe it all to be contrived,
i perceive it all to be lies to make you happy.
and everyone who comes to my side,
who are you?
and why are you here anyway?

and i go then back to my baby,
my hurt and wounded child and i hold her and rock her
and rock her and hold her.
and i weep and i weep and i weep
and i realise i am full of rage.
here now i am full of blame and resentment and hatred
and this place is so familiar here with my vulnerability in my arms.
and i scream at the world and i scream at everyone
and i want to shoot the place down.
“fuck you!” i want to say
all go away,
for i could feel safe it wasn’t for your judgement.
i could show my precious little light if it wasn’t for what you thought was right.
fuck you you righteous whores.
fuck you you righteous bores.
and i shield her away from you
and  i am dead to you
and there is no one and nothing and i am not one.

just imagine if in that moment when i turn away and i put my head down and rest it on her warm tiny body,
just imagine if that is all there is
and that is everything.
that this is not just something
but that this is everything –
i have it all and that was nothing.
here there is peace,
here there is contentment,
here there is freedom,
here i am one.

so as i go away from this now i want you to know that i hold my tiny precious whole within my arms and if you come too near with your questions or your discernments,
if you come too near with you judgements or expectations,
i may forget again
and again begin again to be something that i perceive that you want of me.
and then as i lose my hold on that tiny little bundle i will want to blame you and all your ways.
so now please remember this of me:
i am beginning again
and i will try to see you within this light that is in me
and through this i wish to join.
through this i am. 
through this i can know who i am.

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longing is the knowing

longing for a desk to write this out on and

longing for a fire to hear crackle and feel warmth from.

longing for a big kitchen to laugh in.

longing for a community to be in.

longing for connection to heal in and

longing for movement, for freedom.

longing for intensity to live from and

longing for clarity to see from.

longing for safety to move in and

longing for stability to know.

longing for sanctuary to rest and

longing for a horse to fly on.

longing for a place of peace to go to.

longing to be held.

longing to be loved.

longing for order and

longing for certainty.

longing for a rock to stand on.

longing for definition and life.

longing for sunshine,

longing for surrender.

longing for freedom from this conditioning.

longing for peace,

longing for stillness,

longing for unity,

longing for my Self.

 

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journeying

it is an interesting thing – our connection with our parentage.  looking at my family history I am able to gain a insight into a generational differences in spiritual practice.  I have a very personal experience of orthodox religion in this country, (I was raised in the church of engand) and see it visibly  becoming something of the past, modern individuals being drawn to thinking grounded in a universal consciousness.  I feel as we evolve away from a life of sustenance and are now moving through a time of indulgence and distraction, are needs from salvation are also evolving.  With the massive developments we have had in psychology in the last half century our awareness of the different parts of our operating systems make me feel we can no longer operate with belief systems that require fostering out our trust and faith.  There is a need to own our divine nature and recognise the power we hold within.  Here there becomes a recognition that the light is within us. Any other way of looking at the placement of the divine merely engenders guilt and thus fear,  becoming a tool of oppression.  Personally I find my mind quelled by the channeled text A Course in Miracles but I have an awareness that release comes from many different roads and there is just one goal – awakening from this hellish experience of illusionary seperation and remembering our oneness.  So within this knowing there is also a recognition that the process that orthodox religions like christianity use do bring a level of peace and awakening.  My feeling is that as they do not take ownership and believe in release only after death, there is a powerless engendered within the doctrine which creates dependency thus lacking inherent personal freedom and thus ultimately soulic healing.

My journey has been long and exhausting and as the light is creeps in to on my everyday living I am drawn to share my journey of awakening from this modern illusion into a place of acceptance, allowance and peace.  My writing allows me to share the process of letting go of attachments in this physical experience we have and the psychological battles we have on this path.  I am fascinated and exhilarated with this process and hope that my words are enlightening and enhancing of any experience you may be having in this maya we know as life.  I wish to honor all the parts of my experience for without this i have nothing to learn from.  I wish also this recognition for my words, knowing I am in process and i wish no ill.  Peace be with you and love and light to you which is yours.

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