My Best Friend: What a Difference Four Months Makes

The weather is warming up- and the yard is calling!

Journey Oroborus Wonderdawg has now been in my care for four months, and she is even more amazing every day!

I was reading a post I made last November- about all the dogless moments that were hitting me hard, and it’s crazy to think that so much has happened since the end of last August- but really it is only notable in my little sphere.   It probably isn’t profound to anyone else.

I guess to explain a little bit- it is the insights that have befallen me through my sadness and “rebirth” through Journey.   Journey truly represents a change inside of myself that is hard to articulate- it wasn’t something missing- it was something that had yet to be awakened but was there all along.  Like epigenetics and cultivation, I just needed the right circumstances to enliven something dormant.

I have become more patient, more understanding- attributes I wanted to strengthen but had a hard time controlling and would guilt myself to extremes in regard to; suddenly became effortless as the synthesis of past experience unfolded into a new awakening.

Claddagh and Journey have given me a  calmative understanding and awareness.  I am conscious of all the ways I was wrong to Claddagh- and I refuse to repeat the pattern with Journey.  Journey knows the spirit of Claddagh, they are married within me, and through that devotion our relationship shifts in dimensions.  I become a better soul than I was before, and I can feel and see that happening.

It may sound strange- but I really don’t “miss” Claddagh.  I continue to experience her every day through Journey because their personalities are so interconnected, there is no room for feeling loss.   They are in no way replicas of one another, but they are very much “the same” and the comfort that comes from that is profound in my opinion.

I can compare it to having a few close friends in a place and then moving away and finding new friends who have certain quirks and traits that very akin to friends from the other place.  Personality types are drawn to each other and it is a way that we find our “tribes.”

These days, my tribe is mainly my little fur family along with my Uncle and Gma.  Every day the humans in my tribe get to see the value and vastness of animal personality and the way it adapts with us.  When I am in the yard, and my animals follow me around, I feel like Snow White or something similar.  They come when I call, they sing with me, they see me digging in the dirt and they want to help.  If that isn’t Spiritual, or Magic- then I don’t know what is.

One of the most profound things to settle down in me through all this transition is facing one simple and “gross” thing-  We have to deal with our shit.  Not just personally, we have to deal with the shit of others- and the question is, how do we do that?  No one wants to deal with shit, but it is a part of life, and if for some reason you don’t have to deal with shit on some level, there is a big problem because it is essential to eliminate waste.  If we neglect that fact, things can get extra rancid.

I am cleaning up shit, every. Single. Day.  More than once a day, for someone other than myself.  And for a while, it would trigger a wave of deep anger and resentment.

“Why me?  Why do I have to do this? I already have to clean up for myself.”

Well- I chose this path.  Sometimes we choose paths because they appear to have the least resistance, but as we wander that path we realize it may reach a sort of “dead end” which really just means that we have to clear some things out of the way in order to proceed.   You have to do the work, or wander around looking for another path… either way it is work and resource.

Journey came to me damaged, which means I need to use all of my knowledge and resources to assist in her healing.  By doing so, I am reminded of my own depth of knowledge and it becomes easier to enact that knowing through action because I am driven to assist those who have a hard time assisting themselves- so brilliantly and obvious is this reflection of purpose in co-existence.

How blessed am I?  Infinitely so in my humble opinion.  A certain sense of joy is becoming alive inside of me that I haven’t felt in what seems like a millennium.

 

 

 

Who I Am- Who Do I Want You To See? Your Unperceived Experience: What Is Real

Social Media is an illusion.  We trick ourselves into thinking we know one another.  We are enticed by pictures and platitudes.  (I’d like to do a podcast where I sardonically read inspirational memes.)

I am a person who has probably spent more time hating my physical body aesthetic than I have loved it.  I want to, but I can’t see me, through your eyes. I can see myself in a million ways in a million lights, but when I look in a mirror my default has been ugly. For some reason, I am sure the feeling is mutual.  You MUST see me the way I see myself- I can’t fathom it any other way.

When I see me, in a mirror- I see a Gollum.   A grotesque manifestation of flesh attempting to masquerade as a human. This isn’t new- it is an ongoing saga.

I’ve had a couple of points in my adult life where I “grant permission” for photos. Most times I am caught off guard. With all this technology- I’ve attempted to take control of my image.  It isn’t so much that I don’t want you to see them- it’s just that when I see them, I get really rough on myself- even though I know I shouldn’t… but as I get older, and even more celibate and single- I- I don’t even know.  Perhaps I should peruse for a book to address these issues, or write one of my own… but I don’t want to- other things interest me more.

I’m thirty-eight, I’ve suffered the yo-yo weight- the meat versus vegetable debate.   Yet no one can isolate the reason I always menstruate late beyond the common fate of erratic hormones. Yo- this blows- but I deal, cause I am real- and if no one else is willing to admit it, then I will admit it- I feel.

I want some angelic new deal, where the real me slips from my current skin.  I want to see the reflection of within- in the without.

My daily mantra has become “I see the Angel within” in hopes that I manifest that reality.

This may sound crazy- but my spirit has set me free from human bondage in a sense that we obsess about so much that is meaningless. So daily my eyes are set on Spirit and the unseen control battle.  Yet, I can not escape my reflection.  I can only augment it, moment by moment while dealing with the torrents that come.

 

 

 

 

A List of Thankful

I’m not sure how people have the strength, courage, and fortitude to have children in this modern world.  Heck, the more I think of it- it doesn’t matter what time in history we are talking about- having children seems like an absolutely terrifying life path.

I am thankful my parents wanted me so badly that they had to try to make it happen.  How I’ve spent years feeling “unwanted” is beyond me.  My brother was the accident- but you know what?  They wanted him too, they just didn’t have to intend him as they did with me.

I am thankful I was raised before the age of technological saturation.  How blessed I was to be woken up at the crack of dawn to go fishing with my aunt;  to go sledding in the mountains, to go backcountry to cut down a Christmas tree, to go camping all over the US.  Those where the days when imagination was easily immersed in books and drawing paper.

If you had a computer- it belonged to the family, and it wasn’t used that often because it interfered with the phone line that everyone also shared.   It was a time in history when there were time limits for these shared resources.  Set the kitchen timer for a twenty-minute phone call.  When the timer went off- the call would need to wrap up- post haste. If you needed the computer, you could use it for an hour, but not if someone was expecting a phone call.

I am thankful I was raised in a time where we had to communicate our needs and expectations to one another- face to face.   A lost time when dinner was ready, your parents would holler at you to set the table- instead of sending a text message to the room down the hall.  It scares me to think that this is how we have adapted to our technology.

I am grateful that most of my youthful indiscretion was analog.  Stupid mistakes made before the time when everyone had a digital instant camera in their pocket, ready to record the blunders of those around them.   A time before “revenge porn” and naked selfies.  I can’t imagine the unconscious stress this adds to teenage/ young adult lives.  I can’t imagine how this will change the foundation of relationships in the future.  Yet another terrifying thought that brings me back to my appreciation for how much simplicity we had at one time.

 

The life of the Third Way

There is a feeling the feelers, feel as they stumble forward while standing still- being blown by the unseen wind.

Distilled Silence

You can only find two ways and, ultimately, neither is it. Only the third way is but the third way is the only way that you cannot search to find, it can only find you. Then, being shrewd, you pick up on this secret and you begin to look for a way to be found… hence, one of the two ways creep up in disguise… so then you notice your own hack and cheat and just stand there in a now oblivious space, feeling nothing much but fear… You got no ways, no plans… nothing you devise does anything (but the opposite, as it seems)… and that which you want, you don’t know when, how or if at all it will ever grace you. You don’t know when, how or if ever the third way will find you … then you start to think about the third way.. what is…

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Audio Exploration #4 : Sun Dogs ft. Alessandro Muresu

Another lovely sonic story time collaboration!  Enjoy!

 

Alessandro Muresu –

Facebook Artist Page

Bandcamp

Youtube

WordPress

 

You can explore my other audio recordings of various length and content at the links below-

You can find all of my audio uploads from here on iTunes 

Or This and some other things on Soundcloud.

Non ero io

-my lost tapes

Avrei dovuto scrivere i giorni scorsi, ma le cose delle quali avrei voluto scrivere mi tenevano lontano da questo. E adesso non ho molta voglia di raccontare. Capita appositamente in questi giorni la soluzione del piccolo grande difetto del blog, del quale non mi ero reso conto per anni, i pulsanti di iscrizione che non erano stati inseriti a vista. Giorni di disvelamento o di maschere, giorni di correzione o rinsaldamento della farsa. La gente si sposta in copiose carovane e segue entusiasta il carnevale. Fra uno scherzo e l’altro anche a questo giro non comprendono che va in scena il loro mascheramento, del dramma profondo sotto al quale gattonano vita dopo vita, fra lacci filanti e frammenti inconciliabili di vite che nascono e tornano in pezzi. Le maschere si burlano degli sbadati.

Invece, è il periodo di maggiore espansione e potenza di tutti coloro che hanno mantenuta elevata l’ispirazione…

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A portal of inner exploration

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