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Santa Anas

The air is dry, but I wake up wet. The body knows.
Inside and outside
are not at odds, just move at different speeds.

I noticed again last night that I may always squeeze the tooth paste from the center. Not because I wasn't taught otherwise, or Im unaware. no. when I notice, I notice that it is both totally unconscious and conscious. the feeling is so perfectly specificly delicious.

Less and less. I am learning not to let her cupboards snap shut. But maybe once out of every 10. .. And probably I will always wear my keys loud and sometimes set a cup down hard. Just because the surface rises faster than it should.

when the cupboard snaps shut, im not mad. Its a very primitive feedback loop ran by some part of me that needs to know that it exists. Like a baby, I throw the spoon and it drops to the ground. impact. gravity. effect: you pick it up. I throw it again. Its a part of me that needs to know: The game is that simple.

The negative pole of earth is fear. If I throw this spoon, will it really fall? Is gravity deep enough to count on? The positive pole of earth is either trust or faith, depending on who you ask. "Mr. Fuller" is the name given to my Capricorn moon. It is the part of me that is "worse than a man" is also the part of me that stops my addictions. it is discipline that lets me hold the sky. That is the trust that comes from earth. But if earth is in fear, it smashes the sky. it leaves no room. it is dense. so dense. because its afraid of its light. it doesn't want to float away. It wants to exist. It wants to exist. It wants to exist. It wants to exist.

She held me and shook me. The counter rose up to hit my cup hard. Yelling is never a question of volume. I let go of the spoon and it fell to the floor. So much worry and uncertainty just because things have to break to change. the old world has to slip so that things can dance again. And everyday. I think of silly things that have never worried me before and if I take half a step back, don't worry me now. and then I lead a yoga class and cry for bliss. cry for re-membering. Touch someone in savasana; touch my palms together, and cry.

Let me tell you about the real Mr. Fuller. He worried so much that he forget to believe, and it made him want to die. He thought that things existed in ways that they don't . He thought this world was important in ways that it wasn't. in this way, one gets to the point where everything is so bound its empty, until the point that it doesn't exist at all. (he did not understand Shunyata!) guess what, he's dead. That body, at least, it could have been used in the time it had. I don't think anything can be wasted. He did what he had to do. but, physically and spiritually he ran in circles. he forgot to trust. Truth is, I think he really deeply believed, he was just to afraid to go where belief would have taken him. I don't want to be like him.

I don't think tears always mean sadness. You have heard of tears of joy. However, certainly they are cleaning something--they are not the bliss of that moment. They are the dripping away of all of the times I forgot to be here The awareness that I had ever been anywhere other bliss. We must engage. We must dance. But we must remember to come back, to dissolve. to shake each other until we cry. or else we turn to stone.

Look forward.


sometimes there's a simple solution for things like the cupboards shutting hard- like sticking one of those little felt circles on the corner.

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