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February 2021

prompt: what is the thing? (plus extra words)

what is the primary booby trap you know to exist and yet you tend to "forget" about it until it once again short circuits your heart center?

give it a form and a name

make friends with it.

figure out what it wants

and re-invent it

so you and your heart

and everything it touches

can be more authentically nourished

and healed

***

This morning when I woke up I knew I'd find this hastily scrawled prompt I thought up two days ago while staring out at the snow and grey sky exactly where I put it - sitting on the studio coffee table waiting for me to post it today.  Timing*, as always, asserts itself as some legit measure of being everything.

After I'd originally concluded this was a good prompt, I found I already knew what I'd choose to articulate and work with -- the heart center's 'means well' reflex that I've seen cause more harm than good and yet it's one of the biggest sand traps I routinely see within myself, think "oh well that doesn't HAVE to be a sand trap now that I've identified that it COULD be" - and then do what humans do so well: consciously and deliberately rationalize their behavior they know to be incorrect.

I rationalize why it's okay to accommodate people all the time:  it's quicker and easier, by far.  But only if you don't pay attention and cast a wide-swath of really not caring to contemplate matters of Repercussion well before they land. More things that work all too well for me:  I tell myself It's what females tend to do as a reflex and that's pretty much why there's any world left standing at all.  So that's the 'somebody has to do it' excuse. Then there's other stuff that's so entirely yellow I'm taking notes for The Trip Back Down.

Much journal writing since our heart-time began has led me to understand one of the mechanisms I'm surely capable of discarding as a short-circuiting internalized equation once and for all:  something about being nice/generous/expectation-free doesn't feel right and for whatever combination of inner flutterings I decide I'm going to circumvent that inner knowing because: personal growth. it's everywhere just waiting to happen.

how do i know i actually know what i'm certain i do, y'know?   In my every-day Acey form this is my ongoing mantra to my inner self any time I'm not writing something that proves some specific or at least abstract form of 'knowing'.  In this case, I put the words being nice in scare quotes (and then added them to knowing) because that's where they belong in context.  Here at the heart level we have the compassionate and truly safe house in which to explore the difference between authentically being a thing and being, instead, a creature of reflex and relative social comfort who provides what they believe, perceive, or simply take their level best shot at providing, for somebody with something they need which is, in turn, something we can give.  And in the case of social reflex and comfort, what we intuit they're looking for from us and our individual heart center. 

Our hearts can be confused and confusing place, is what I'm saying.   Or perhaps what I'm really saying is that it can become inappropriately crowded on the bridge.  All the other chakras can - especially in times as extraordinary as our own - instinctively migrate there.   At any given moment we've got all or some of the places that energy's meant to function to full capacity sputtering along at best.  The really liquid and juicy fuel we're possessing is inclined to head for safety and higher ground of bridge territory.  And so they're milling around - on both solo missions and murmuring amongst themselves - utterly certain they know what's best/safest/wisest about the heart's business and have the chops to 'fix' what would otherwise not be wrong at all.

*

 At the heart, on this particular day, I'm trying on compassion as I look within at the same constellation of self-perpetuated over-focus and cut-out zones I usually approach from a far more formidable (and thus inherently hyper-focused/Ajna) perspective.  And it really does shift everything.  To stand on and within the heart's Bridge function and look from a variety of directions. 

What if lasting personal change can begin with a kept commitment to shift one's internalized tone.  Instead of the lower chakra quandry : HOW do I FIX this? Or upper/head-driven impatience:  How do I fix THIS?  I'm looking for the eldering smile of long suffering patience.  The look that's been there and done that enough to ask very tenderly:  how do I fix this?  

if the heart can serve as lung through which to breathe

why can't it also serve as the higher self's sense of self, period?

and what if that self committed to asking it'Self:

what am i capable of  - but only in a soft knowing tone.

This I see as our individual and collective bridge tone as it most wishes to be.  Group Kuan Yin energy.  Timeless and yet ever-eldering at whatever age.

that's going to be my interrogative/upgrade heart work for the rest of the month at a personal level.  I decided as much during lunch yesterday.

the first task, obvi, was to sleep on the question:  what am i capable of upgrading about my current relationship to misguided heart action?

This morning I knew the answer like it was already part of my life.  We'll see how that plays itself out but I'm old so I've the ongoing sense this is my moment to get stuff done, make it count, and avoid as little as possible 'for later'.

I'm going to let no be my teacher and guide

at the first sign - deep in my heart - that something is wrong

with saying yes.

no matter how else it seems like it could/should be instead.

a lot of debris flew out of my heart as I typed the previous four lines.

four takes me back to the points forming the shape of the red root square.

a space of containment

to keep NO sacred

in case of emergency break glass

and let NO be the medicine

of true love

the more I write the easier my heart feels.

I've stopped frowning in concentration and started to smile and look out the window.  There's not much to see since it's still snowing and grey but it's a very large opening that lets in light.

in the past - once I start smiling out the window - that's always meant

i'm doing something right.

if i figure out what it is more cogently

i'll share.

No works best with a 'but what about' to follow.  Franklin and I have agreed:  when he has something to say and would like people to know he exists in a disembodied yet shared continuum I'll put it in a post within a context of my own creation*.  So simple.  maybe everything is or at least can be if heart energy is applied within the two week remaining window of Virgo grace

***

*Last night I revealed a form of accommodation that existed for a 'good' reason within my own mind.  But within helping somebody who would not be at liberty to participate that way otherwise, I didn't help 'the cause' of showcasing impeccability.  Or maybe I did.  I mean, I'd just posted hours before about it in relation to the Virgo full moon - and in a way that inspired the original comment and so forth.  Very coyote.  I bowed down to it immediately.  I mean the timing alone is worth a standing ovation of respect and appreciation.

Coyotes


prompt: flip or enhance your script

Heartspread

Valentine's Day is my favorite holiday and I mention it every year on my creativity blog. 

If you're with me on that - ignore the prompt-within-the-prompt of the way this one begins and just amp up the experience to some kind of an idealized EVERYBODY loves heart day kind of level.  And note the closest thing the font color options hew towards emerald green below. We are all the way out of the primary zone so I bolded and all-capped for heart-emphasis only.

WITHOUT LINGERING OVER ALL THE REASONS WHY YOU MAY ABSOLUTELY HAAAAAAAATE (or merely ignore/'don't play into' VALENTINES DAY

what would a Day of Heart-Space that met your specific necessary criteria for being a "good" holy-day look like?

bonus question just because I'm curious this way:  How elite is the holy-ness of your personally sanctioned Day of Heart-Space? 

for example - could people with a fondness for Awful Cartoon Shaped Hearts get in

????

what if they were glittery?  and that may or may not be a trick question.  You decide.

asking for a friend, as they say ...

(obviously - Coyote Spirit's still here in ways sacred rules say we're permitted to talk about openly, should we dare.  Winter's not over yet and it was believed that meant the larger medicine spirit was sleeping.  None of the literal dawgs here are sleeping during this particular winter.  They've been up in here howling and running off the foxes throughout the night for a few weeks now.  The foxes  are now over-running the old overgrown orchards where they usually spend their summers. 

WHAT DO THE COYOTES KNOW THAT WE DON'T?

besides everything, i mean ...)

Coyoteexcellence


Prompt: heart bridge

There's a natural bridge, energetically, between the lower primary chakras and the heart center.  A similar bridge exists between the heart and the elevated/head chakras of voice, vision, and inter-personal/galactic/spiritual illumination.  The bridge between survival, polarity, volition, and unencumbered open-heart space/brain/mind is super important.  A lot of people try to fly the distance but it seems wise to build the bridge and then use it in order to stay safe and grounded in these strange and rapidly shifting times.  Or maybe you're lucky enough to discover inner awareness of a pre-existing bridge waiting patiently for your specific use right here and now.

Define your bridge between the primaries and your heart with words or some form of visual expression.  JUST AS IT IS.  If this comes out in a way you can't accept move on to idealization/aspiration.  But go for reality first.  just as you are at the heart level.

How short or long is the bridge?  What kind of condition is it in?  Is it something that was erected hurriedly with whatever's on hand or is this a bridge of substance and style combined?

and then:

articulate, if only internally, what your heartspace looks like from the "far" side of the bridge closest to your solar center.

Walk across the bridge and look back.  Does the bridge  seem shorter or longer than when you first engaged with this prompt?

What else has changed about the bridge itself or your sense of traveling across it?

get it all down somehow, if that's who you are.  Or focus on a single stray feather's equally single word-meaning wafting towards you from the heartspace itself.

this connective energy center corresponds to the element of air.

hence your inner bridge is supported and surrounded by Heart long before we venture into its true - and truly enormous - territory.

what IS that for you

try, just for now, to think of your heart as a single beating organism representing only yourself as singular life form.  What is your heart center about?  Not who or what it connects you to or who or what you connect to it -

what are YOU at the heart level? 

what is however you respond to this part of the prompt about for you?

Is your heartspace the feather or the air it floats through?

how would you like your passport to be stamped now that we've reached this part of our inner exploration

?


the blessing of space & sanctuary

SunnystudioplantsToday this space is sunlit and elevated for the shift that's coming with the Aquarian new moon.  Am thinking about what metaphorical seeds I want to plant then.  Also note the background glimpse of an area in the room that I think of as collage fodder purgatory.  Haven't looked at anything there for four years or so.  Thinking this may change sooner than later but we'll see.

OrangeyellowquestionThroughout the past ten days or so, I've been looking at this page from an orange-yellow-gold color collection journal all the time.  I have it open for ongoing viewing on my desk.   Although I wasn't thinking on any kind of subtextual level, or considering layering meaning as well as color application, in this moment of time it seems inspired to remind myself that all sacral questions seek the resolution of volitionary action.

Leomagicsome days ago I called an official time out on my main blog.  It doesn't work to post there when I'm immersed in something as deep as it is personal.  My internalized/frail ego/vulnerability level in such times can't sustain the entire premise and purpose of that particular sharing space. But this blog doesn't aim (or need) to set either the same standard or tone.   After the time out set root of a productive nature, somebody I mentor came around to that blog's comments section and invoked all kindsa yellow/solar/leo energy he knows to be the crux of my earthly soul's resilience factor.

i thought it was - at best - aspirational on his part.

but it worked.  That's the main thing.

Griefpage1the deeper purpose of recent soul growth-work is making more than adequate space for itself.  Within that space I've begun to articulate the overwhelming season of loss I experienced - beginning around this point in the years calendar - that was due in large part to Covid.

Griefricksomething simple, imperfectly elegant, inadvertently messed-up/air bubbles and contextually Everything for the unCovid mic drop of my incomparable friend, rick.

DowhatsrightnotNear the beginning of solar month I discovered the resin smudged note while tidying up.  It's from years ago.  In the process of awaiting something 'worthy' I turned some kind of intentional corner so that I simply wanted to find it a comfortable home.

Grieftwostoriesa story of deep grief transcending itself.

SunstampYesterday evening I found a piece of fabric stamped many times with a representation of sun magic & medicine.

InthosedaysOne of the stampings was placed to headline a snippet of narrative.  I held this cloth in my hand and read the words in my handwriting seven or eight times.  I have no idea wtf this refers to.  Not just what but whom.  My twenty first year was quixotic and relatively untethered.  It spanned (this sounds way more glamorous and noteworthy in its episodic qualities than it actually was, by far ...) 3 continents  and 7 countries within the first five calendar months.  I knew - in the walking around sense - any number of men who routinely betrayed themselves.  After squeezing my mind on the subject, I can think of three who semi-routinely fell on their sword for me.  The four of us were yoked to a highly disorganized, recreationally unpleasant, and insufferably narcissistic boss.  Nuff sed.

Samplerwhole am both baffled and intriqued by the personal mystery factory.  have resolved to steam refresh, then press smooth.  Hand sew stay stitching at the edges.  Hoop it up and backstitch my words into place.  Keep going from there. 

i like the idea of this showing up somewhere that won't matter to me with somebody i won't know saying 'i wonder what THIS was all about.' 

and.

i would not be able to tell them even if I could magically be there to speak in human language once more.

 cartersfacingthedoorspeaking of words - this is what two-pass working draft quality now looks like as I wend my way through the previously procrastinated,  emotionally and mechanically difficult corridors of my novel-writing project.  Think it's obvious I keep doing this Thing on a primarily daily basis.  In the past while there have been a few days in a row when I didn't write.  The self-mother in me would not allow it.  In that time the sun didn't shine in the literal sense.  I sat on the couch and let myself be held in the love of friends as well as my personal faith in the larger universe of healing and happenstance.  This one's going to take awhile to situate and explore with the necessary level of fearlessness.  Otherwise there's no point.  I'm not a healing-lite kind of person.

note:  the two children in this snippet are 4 and half years old.  Cici is unwanted by her family (although deeply treasured and loved by Carter's people) and is thus passed around from relative to relative.  Dominic's her oldest cousin, who was similarly treated in his youth, and has thus risen to the considerable personal challenge (he and Jessie have a past that I cried for three days straight back in Sacral month to draft-out...shhhhh...) of coming back into town in order to be the steady guardian influence she needs. 

DominicrealizesasmuchIn the same eight days of keeping my own counsel, there was a three or four day window in which I didn't have a working power cord for my laptop.  J was kind (and kind of INSISTENT) enough to let me have his personal machine during his working hours.  The first day I managed to record (as opposed to write) three and a half paragraphs.  That's how much I struggled to get back in synch with a mouse and also the fact that the keyboard doesn't work very well and J thus has a second keyboard he uses precariously balanced against the first.  The second day I did better.  The third day I pretty much typed at will/ability level given the over-arching life circumstances.  My sense of accomplishment was calibrated against the fact I was aware, even as I was writing, that I wasn't actually working so much as taking myself along a compulsive jug handle of irrelevant happenstance and dialogue serving neither expository nor inter-layering purpose.  I guess it was a comfort to me.  To know most of these characters so well that I could spend a day doing that and thus coming closer to mooring myself in ways that support coming both farther and closer, perceptually, in a further "way" of some sort that's pragmatically as well as creatively driven.  And in direct relation to knowing what is true for and about me.

Whatportrait

A 2 hours old selfie.  In the present tense I'm squinting with a bowed head  because the strong sunlight's shining right in my eyes.  It feels great.

Also:  huge upgrade in the pragmatic sense.  During yesterday's snowstorm J. installed a second hand railing in the studio stairwell.  I can now walk up and down holding on with both hands.  This is a HUGE blessing given ongoing neuro-unreliability that's largely weather driven in terms of severity and duration.

Kneescaband my knee is almost healed ...