Category: Stream of Thought

To my astonishment, tears fall so easily sometimes.

Maybe I ought to encourage them.

Maybe they will wash my soul clean.

Why do we say that someone we really like is akin to this?

Do bees even have knees?

Or is it that we think that someone is so great that because of them, bees would have knees -?

Yeah, but my neck is spasm-pinching.

Back to “the grind” of daily survival for me!

Fragile adrenals got exploded from trying some sips of a touted energy fizz drink with green tea and neural stimulation components.

Days later, I trace back to the scene of my downfall where bamboozled system synapses now arrive, crashed and tumbling.

A quip from my last brain-cell humor last night that I shared with my supportive youngling.

“Don’t assume that you know me!”

She turned to him in whirlwind expression, panic seizing her breath and making her seem like a wild woman.

The distress from fear that he would snap-judge her and leave was all-encompassing.

My now father was looking up college options for me after our discussing how I could return to working for him.

(I won’t – for I am free now, and there is a “whole world” to explore!)

He does care aboit my happiness and knows how I value continuous learning.

I was surprised that he found a less expensive art degree program for me. I guess that he has learned what I enjoy and was trying to show me.

With the vexation from not being able to finish my enviro science degree and past dreams already expressed in missing my music peer connecting, Art, I suppose, was the other aspect not fully acknowledged in me.

The problem is that most of these degrees do not contain content that appeals or applies directly to my curiosity.

After a long-haul-month of networking to get my business noticed, my dreams reveal what my adrenals are saying.

I need decompression by artistic expression and a sense of connection with my family.

One perfect icicle star suspended between fine glass plates in a locket created a photo session in a packed classroom of college-aged students as I tried to capture it in light before it melted.

The professor agrieved “What has happened to my life? There is nothing to live for.” – which stirred compassion inside, wondering how I could help him.

As he approached to conviscate my camera, I scrolled hastily, worried how the photos had captured so many faces in the background.

As I began erasing some taken of the professor, there was one that drew me in and led me back into the past.

He was running down a parkside stairwell, calling out with distressed joy as his arms opened wide to embrace his dark-haired granddaughter who ran to him.

“Kifka! Kifka!” Eyes streaming tears as he hugged her tightly to him, overcome by emotion.

Soon after, a man joined me in viewing the dream of the professor giving him a sachel of toy cars as a child – and I realized that the little girl had had a blond-haired brother.

I did not realize that the reason I am stumbling around at bed time is because I am deeply tired.

I just thought it waa from the physical therapy  and rehabilitation efforts I’ve been undertaking.

But, after years of push-push-pushing, one no longer recognizes where pushing crossed a line.

Reasoning of which is only so because we make it and say it is so.

I have been invited to participate in a healing retreat, which has made me so happy at the prospect of going. But suddenly, my body says “no.” I must repair my adrenal system.

Physically close or separate,
It is connection that matters.

“I don’t want this!”

She should have said it.

She had never said it.

It wasn’t permitted.

Until she did.

He pulled her close roughly, said something heatedly, then pushed her away as he prepared to exit.

“Wait!” she called after him, startled and disheveled. “I liked that. Please come here.”

Surprised, he paused, then carefully returned.

She took his face gently into her hands, pulled him to her, and kissed him.

Many times, I have been rejected by the hands of health professionals filled with ignorant apathy.

It gives me great pride to help release others from pain when I find and release tension that no longer needs to be held within them.

I had a dream where I sat down next to a past boyfriend on a train and he ignored me.

This was the way with him because he had learned to fear his own vulnerability.

My love for him challenged his deepest fears were he to feel the same for me – and so, he refused to embrace me.

The process gets harder as we are older because we know more what to fear – yet, not how we can still trust and move through the pain of healing without getting stuck in the next level birth canal. We need a team of healers to help in absence of our original mother.

It is necessary after trauma to not know how fully one has been injured so that one can recover and not have initial shock overtake them.

I did not realize how damaging the horse accident I experienced over 22 years ago has been because there was no apparent injury to my limbs as I then staggared away from the scene.

However, the force from falling backward at goodly speed – and then smacking hard into micro-pebbled, barely-yielding sand – apparently ripped microtears throughout my core system.

Beginning to receive bodywork and recently taking a lymphatic breath workshop has been helping me realize that my ribs and internal organs are stuck where trying to compensate.

It was always there, just under the surface.

I believed in life’s renewal – how we were born for overcoming.

I believed that life’s magic is in our science – just as nature’s energy embodies wisdom in the trees.

And he…he locked down and refused to believe in anything.

In time, our hidden battle led to insanity.

There was never a consensus from which to proceed.

I have to be released, you see.

I kept my promise: I was faithful to decree.

And when he rose again, he did not want me.

In the old oak forest in the hills of Novato, I arrived with a friend and encountered another.

Pregnant for the first time and separated from my lover, I was confused, hurt, and angry – for I wanted no other.

As I and my companion sat down on bench, I confessed my vexation as if tugging on a wrench.

From a swing in the sunlight and in shade under trees, we glanced at the wares by creative imaginings.

At a higher-peaked booth I received the sending: “Be careful right now how you are thinking.”

At envisioned table, they were gathered and debating: a man was convicting, while a woman was advocating.

She gestured to me and my mind’s heart opened, pledging devotion to champion love once spoken

As they faded from view, I chose the pendant from two which represented birth of a new age from skew

I asked my friend for leave as I felt something coming, and when returned to parents home, I caught the phoned message.

As I drove to the hospital through cliff-winding mountains, a bright half moon beckoned while the stars danced in heavens.

I threw my soul into ensuring he would rise to win – and lost our first, my familiar, and the chance we would begin again.

Were they better for each other as strangers?

Or together, would they enhance humanity’s ascension?

A sign said, “Hitches: designed and installed.”

I thought it said “Niches.”

Would be so useful!

That it would take so long to find a place that feels like a home has been a journey.

I thought I had found one before – but realize now how tenuous those prior connections.

When they first met, she was seeking a relationship – but he was happy on his own.

Then, he sought another’s relationship – and she learned to accept being happy on her own.

I can understand why some women choose to only have loose relationships.

Too often, a man will lose interest after he has gone deeper than a woman’s surface.

Where are the other die-hard romantics?

Former talents rush in to carry me forward.

Adapting to the needs of an adventure unfolding.

The men I have loved all came from some form of broken family that had dysfunction in it.

Is that it, then? Seek a partner who has had a good upbringing?

I came from many broken families – and yet, I still put the work into myself.

Is that it, then? Look for a partner who has put work into their self?

But then, how does one avoid a man’s getting too attached to his ego’s image?

How does one find a man of strong spine, yet who also enjoys mutual affection and lets his feelings show?

Ten years ago, we officially divorced, and the other day, we agreed we’ve reached nuetral.

May our souls rest in peace.

Amen.

She could feel more children waiting to be born, and as her belly began to swell over time, aching in their absence, she began giving up the search for their father.

“She’s so ‘relatable!'”

(It’s a good thing…)

Today at a carnival, I drew the card of The Queen, and I thought, “Where is my King?”

The lovely reader helped me understand that a queen does not seek, but greatness seeks her.

But, I am too restless to sit on a throne and be waited upon.

I carry greatness within me wherever I go – and good luck, I guess, to my King trying to find me.

I am out in tbe world helping people and chasing sunrayed moonbeams.

I have a hard time thinking that I am beautiful.

I know that I am: I have a fierce independence masked by fragile innocence.

An interesting combination over which I could chase my tail forever trying to reconcile.

I instinctively shed superimposed expectations to where I am surprised at times by my own candidness.

And I could spend a lifetime trying to understand this.

In all of my birthchart, I have fire, air, and water, but I do not think that I have any earth.

Maybe that is one reason I love it so much: it is the one thing that I need and so I yearn.

The new norm and max that I intend in helping.

Not everyone fully understands the concept. For most of us were born with the need, yet, many have been denied.

I realize now that what I was driven by other forces to become back then was not the true me.

I was held captive – enslaved by dependency.

By autonomy, I have been able to dissolve the webs of deceit that kept blinding.

As I sorted through the items today, I wondered what causes me to still live like this.

It is startling to see how much trash accumulates from day-to-day functioning in transit.

I am usually going from one event to another in my car, drinking and eating along the way.

When I come home at night, I am too tired and it is too cold for me to want to sort anything.

So on trash day (if I did not miss it for the week, lol), I am out there digging through various bags to separate trash from recycling.

Do I need to judge against myself for this?

I sometimes feel as if I live like a gypsy.

It often happens after sundown, and most especially after I have worked out.

I guess I am just concentrating all day, holding myself together to maintain a path for self and to provide for others.

The vacancy of my energy leaves me bereft and lonely.

Shoulder aching like a beast, I rise to the challenge and seek out authentic connections and networking opportunities. With every sucessful interaction, we are creating and strengthening rainbow skeins of lightworking.

I had planned to slow my pace for more balance, but it has again ramped up. The difference is that I decide when I’m flapping or gliding.

She was startled to realize how powerful her energy was becoming and could feel her heart’s yearning tapping into the earth’s matrix, seeking to align with and call forth her partner’s.

As she held the pendulum with her left hand, fingers poised downward, she centered it over her open upward right palm, leveled near her heart.

Making sure she was not moving the swinging point with her wrist, she became aware of the energy field pushing out from her chest.

Surprised at how well she could feel this, she began concentrating on intending the field to move in different directions.

After she brought to tool closer to where she could feel it was inside the field’s boundary, the crystal began to move in directions of her intention’s swirling.

Restarting off on my own, and facing the heavy.

If I don’t feed it, will it in turn learn to ignore me?

They say it needs a new master cylinder and also a new clutch, etc. I think they ought to just bleed the air bubble out and that go-car will still fake it.

They say she needs a new clutch and a whole new front suspension with new boot to replace the one ripped open, now exposing a tie rod.

They also say that she needs a new starter, a front light shakes loose, turning off (until I thump it) with and that rear oxygen sensor.

I laugh at how the odds keep stacking against me and reflect upon how we always succeed by luck’s whimmed magic.

Meanwhile, I am still paying for the refurbished head gaskets.

The elder peer mentor spoke of how she always knew that she was meant to be independent: no kids or husband were in her life’s planning.

All I could think besides amazement and being impressed by her self contentment with this was, “Please don’t let this be my destiny.”