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My left thumb was bleeding when I woke up.
Before, I was already afraid I was losing that magic.
But I was more distant now, outside that self; to the part where you just follow.

Just the drive up the coast and through the hills was healing. There were horses. In a rare frame of mind where I wasn't afraid of anything---not even my boss; I wasn't at work. Soon after I got there, Dorrine arrived and we waited together. My only clue to why she was there was that I couldn't tell why she was there---she wasn't quite in her thing. Her words and her actions seemed to arise from her periphery. She kept her shoes on; she had forgotten her money but then found it. The house was beautiful and full and I played with the crazy little dog while I waited.

The nght before, I had flipped out again. Ashley was either a trigger or the last human before I locked the door and was by myself. Astrid had left papers with the contact for the Maori healers who were in town, so I called and left a message, not knowing if anything would come of it. But they called me as I drove home, as I was wondering what to do with myself. The woman told me there was a cancellation and I could have an appointment the next day. I was already noticing the grace as she asked if I was okay and I said "yes". Then, she seemed to have changed the subject. She was talking about the eclipse, "you know, the sun disapears and it gets dark...but it comes back again. It always does", even her tone had shifted, as though we had been casually discussing the mechanics of this all along. But then she made her segue: "that is to say, anything that happens right now--this work, whatever--will be experienced more intensely"--[a therapeudic disclaimer]--"so, just be aware of that".

I've noticed that at the four corners of the year I stay at Cid's with Boris (the Buddha cat). I remember how intense solstice was--a week of steady-state quazi-awareness; space travel and passing out--both from [panic] and bad gin. I got to her house and started watching TV through the static; a show on integral health care. It was within the clinical scope--it included both alopathy and "complimentary"--it was on KCET. I wasn't feeling better, but I was feeling surrendered. In my mind was the thing Carolyn Myss put words to: about how you just say the prayer and then know that everything---everything---that happens after that is the answer. I had a felt sense both that the immediate, "let me be okay" prayer and prayers made long ago--commitment, vows, to what I'd become--were being answered. The beautiful woman on the screen--siver hair and clear eyes--talked about how healng is a collaboration with the healer inside the person. The person acting as the healer, their job is to see that healer in the client---when they can't see it themself.

"island style", I thought. Music played, dogs barked and cell phones range. different people moved in and out of the room. Once face down, only getting to guess who was joining. The whole group, alternately chanting and laughing--talking about the same visions: the casual spiritual world. White orbs and dogs rushed through. You don't have to act "attuned" when you just simply are. Ata talked a lot with Dorrine. She asked her if she was a Capricorne--that was my guess too--but Dorrine said "no; Cancer" in a voice unexpectedly loud. ( and I thought..."yeah? what's you're rising?") and Ata said, "uu shell" in a distinct brand of pidgeon and mentioned that, for Cancers, this cycle concerns issues around the mouth, "does this mean anything to you?" "No" said Dorrine, again, a voice too hard, sounding like it came only from her mouth and not any deeper. I laughed. then she said (even more high nasal) "but maybe I'll get it later".
They didn't really talk to me and barely even talked about me. I was feeling lovely like air, dried up and swirled from the first sun in days. I felt like skin evaporated after a long cry; a salty crystal on dry tide pools. But I still knew I was faded, so I didn't feel ignored. I knew they were relating to something deeper in me than this temporary state. I heard a few words in a different language that seemed true for me. And a beautiful song. i layed still through the deep work to the sound of Dorrine's conversations--I was happy that someone was willing to push hard enough to get through me, into me. The only time I screamed was when "Son" had his elbow in my stomach and I felt the stickiness between the organs tear open and my spine adjust from pressure from the front. I learned how held my hipflexors are and I had no idea what they did to my shouler. I have an interesting cloud in my shoulder. I can't see in it like I can see other parts. Its not because I don't know the anatomy and can't visualize. It's like there is something there that remains unknown.

We were the only appointments that morning because they were going to be on KPFK. I sat on the porch with Dr. Matt as I put on my boots and I told him to tell Lisa I love her. He laughed and said he would. I listen to that show almost everyday. I stoped by the beach to touch the water and the sand. On the show they talked about a lot of good things. Secretly, I listened for anything that applied to me and also for anything I could tell to others. Ata at one point talked about the smell of people: how a woman who has been raped has a specific smell, or an abused child---but that you can only smell these things because you know what to do about them--even if you don't "think" you know". It made me think of the information we are given--the pain I feel and the things greg sees. Its kind of like---"You will never be handed more than you can take"---we see, smell, hear these things because we can do something. It's not static distraction. And people who don't see, it's becuase...for whatever reason...in that moment, they wouldn't know what to do.

And then I heard it--the word I had heard earlier that had sounded true. The word for mental affliction in their language. Ata said that it literally translates to mean "the dark eclipsing the light" but then continued, almost interrupting herself, "---but it's not permanent". She talked about how we treqt things with drugs as though they are steady-states, but really, anything, everything; we are just moving through. She talked about relating to the part of a person that always is light. a broken bone. an infertile family, the loss of light. the sun comes back, it always does.

I was feeling that the sun had returned. I went to yoga. By the end, again, the sun had fallen behind a cloud. I gave all reasons, yoga malaise, the falling in and out of the spirit world in large chunks. Ashley seemed to be dressed back in street clothes before the class even ended, and for some reason this bothered me. Maybe I wanted someone to be with me. But anyways, it wasn't, so I cried. Not as hard as before, but even more frustrated now.
The panic I have, the depression, the suicidal ideation; I really try to pay them no mind. I relate them to chronic injury---the took, what, almost 20 years to create, then the injury happens, we notice it and want it gone right then. I try to remeber we dont get to pick the timeline. It wont take 20 years to undo, because I am consciously trying, but still, it keeps washing out whether I decide I'm done or not. So, as much as I can, I pay them no mind... but, honestly, I get afraid. I know that even the fear is drama, though, it doesn't really matter what happens to me in a large scope. But from my own end of things, there are things I need to get done. And I know if I can get through these things myself, I might make some hope for others.

I went by Cid's and then to my appartment. Almost to my apartment, I started listening to a Ram Dass tape. I heard exactly where I was getting caught and, again, I felt my tears dry as I got a clue of the work to be done. Greg and Bryan were there printing pictures of Greg. Someone had a gun magazine and a business magazine (same difference) porno for alll the violece I felt. but more and more and more, I felt it slip away. Even when it seems to be, That is not me.
Yoga: the continuous process of pulling one's head out one's ass.
What did it this time? All of these things, I'm sure. Culminating in Dharma class where I re-established the belief that I am not here for me. This work I do, it is not for me; and the choice to be here is not about whether it feels good to me. And ( in terms of dharma class) maybe these challenges mean that I was a very bad roach in my last life (hehe) they also mean that I am willing and ready, and the wounds I see in myself, in others, in the world, I have what it takes to help heal them.

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