Strange and Beautiful Underwater City

So now I have been to New York City.

And right now, I am sitting in Kim's East Harlem apartment.

It is cool and still in here. The outside is grey, although all that I can see of it is from the light reflected off of the building outside the windows. It is quiet, although outside life is happening. Planes to La Guardia fly overhead every once in awhile. I hear diesel engines of delivery trucks and men hawking loogies and shouting at each other. But all of this action seems to be contained in an overarcing stillness, as if this whole experience were contained within an ocean. Not me seperate from it. I am in the same ocean.

When I dipped into meditation for my morning practice, the stillness was large. Loud. Full. I wonder if when meditation happens if it is merely a tuning into a wavelength. I imagine different places have different wavelengths, and I imagine there are also many to choose from at that.

This is like no other place I have been to before. My first impression of this was a complete otherworldliness. As if I was on another planet or in an alternate reality. And the longer I sink into this environment, it feels like just that, a sinking in, a surrender. If I chose to I could feel claustrophobic. However, in the ocean, going under feels very contained and seperated and at the same time very vast and connected.

I had to get used to breathing here. It reminds me of my dreams where I can breathe underwater. As I entered my pranayama (breath) practice this morning, however, I realized that I could very much breathe this air in and harness life force from it by becoming it. Nothing to fight, spirits tell me. The energy is loving and powerful. Elemental. There may be extra pollution and things in the air that I am not used to breathing, but the prana I am taking in is something else all together.

The deeper I sink in, I wonder what will happen. I wonder if I will no longer need my eyes to see. All this floating, all this being, all this happening. All this alchemy. All the wavelengths, existing. And where am I? Grounded. Here. Channeling all the this.

Pregnant Seeds

In a recent dream I was looking closely in the mirror and peeling propeller seeds off my face as if they were scabs. That came up during my yin practice last night and the message, "Put those seeds where they belong" came through. So I attempted to put the propeller seeds over my sacral chakra around my right ovary...the image that came through though showed the propeller seeds as pregnant! Pregnant with some wild ideas.

Lindsey-Self Love

Henna, cont'd

Pam=Healer



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Zoe




Throat Opening/Empowering

I don't know anything.

In here in here. It's like here in here. Here, here. Here, hear here here. So I hear. Crambed with crumbs, jangly indentical emotions, junked up with something heard again and again in here. Here, another self I'd like to recognize. And who am I? Perhaps I am that self you see inside, the one who hurts and dreams and forgets to show you her true face, her one constant. One constant? What is that? That oh my god, did she just say that? Work before play, then work and work and take her self too seriously. Self had better calm down before disapproval sets in into all those other selves secretly being judged. By whom? It's a secret, because there is no I. It isn't me, I'm a 'spiritual person'. Only love, right? Only love when love is only love but what about the rest of the time? The time when, where, were you when I needed a friend? Where was I when intimate realms dared to be explored? Do I know myself? Do I dare? Exploring to explode, popping all over this pie hole, recognized by you, who? And seen by who? Who? Who? Who? Where am I? What is this? Meaning-less, and the hurtful way you absorb my presence without acknowledging it. Do I do that? Did I do that? Did I do that? Here. In here is where this takes place. In here, around here hurtful tones bounce back and forth and words are said through me that might feed your daddy issues and my mommy issues but certainly don't see the difference between you and me. We try to struggle. To stay here, see here, why is it one day isn't this one. And this one is different as well. I hear-ed I hurt and I don't know why. Why do you treat me this way? Why I? I don't know.