It's been awhile. This week has been just like this winter, big & thick. Now there are two words I used to appropriate to dirty sex talk. Just like everything else this winter, I now mean something new.
I had my akashic records read for 15 minutes on Saturday. I was prime for the information, waiting on the other side of a spiritual door without knowing how to knock and ask for entrance. Some direction for my focus came from this; it was an immense session with a complete stranger who spoke ancestral spirit truths to me at my request. I could have stayed locked away all week, in my apartment thinking and astral projecting the world and time over, but of course I was at work instead. Being at work when I'm absent minded is very energy consuming, so it wasn't the lightest of weeks.
I accidentally happened upon the blog of Oliver de la Paz today. He was a guest professor I had, when I was 22, for a 6week poetry intensive called "Poetry: Obsession." He tricked us all on our first class (well he tricked me anyway). He said we'd mostly be writing in class time and we'd start immediately. He said every class would start the same way: 15 minutes of writing what ever streamed into our consciousness's. The result of the first 15 minutes was my having to write about a traumatic accident that happened when I was 6 for about 90% of the class over the weeks. I thought it was a brilliant, but sneaky move.
His is a true blog, nothing highbrow about it. I really like that he's not putting his life work here, but using it as an extension of his online persona. It's great to see a poet and professor just being human online. His everyday writing is accessible and normal and I gather some kind of inspiration from it; perhaps I'm reminded that art isn't the everyday, it's the result of a contemplated process following the spark of an idea.
Like I said, this week has been thick, like this winter has been. Around Thanksgiving all my life became unbelievably jumbled up. Lovers and best friends halted existing in the normal way for me, they stopped in their tracks. I felt as if I was separated from the peers I felt closest to, like we were standing not more than 10 feet apart but were separated by a thick, invisible wall. We just stared silently and felt estranged.
I reexamined my relationship with sex and sexuality. I plumbed the deep of my psyche looking for answers to my future and found they were actually there, waiting for me. Things were not difficult for me in the old way of confusion and complication, but in a new way of learning patience, precision and acceptance. The friends and lovers did some mining too, and I talk with them all of our found gems now. The thick is thinning, we begin to shed our layers for spring.