Perfect, Whole, Lovable. Oh yeah, and a weird night out.

Photo: at Rachalle's on Friday night, having dinner before going out.

October 30^th 2011

Sunday

God, what a good morning. Strawberries with Piako gourmet yoghurt and a sprinkling of puffed Amaranth (Donna had Amaranth when I stayed with her and Claire in their Titirangi mansion).

Three coffees and clean sheets, writing and forgiveness work ... and hearing “Just like Honey” by Jesus and Mary Chain on the radio has all put me in a very good frame of mind.

Forgiveness today:

From lesson 90, ACIM:

Let me recognize the problem so it can be solved ... the problem is always some form of grievance that I would cherish. Let me also understand that the solution is always a miracle with which I let the grievance be replaced.

Every problem already contains a solution if we are willing to see it. I like that – to think that ‘a problem’ is already a miracle. It means you can’t ever view problems in the same light again.

Golden Dawn:

Had fun with Rachalle on Friday, we abandoned all original plans and went to Golden Dawn instead of a party or the Q Bar.

There was a Halloween theme at GD; fortunately (?) I was dressed appropriately as I thought I was going to Imogen’s Eurotrash party.

We walked in as some kind of ‘dance’ was going on. It was basically an excuse for two mediocre dancers to perform a soft core lesbian vampire show. Some men in the audience looked glazed and thirsty, possibly sporting semi’s. I suppose some of the women had softies. A soft on.

Saw the ex boyfriend of a girl I used to be friends with. He was all decked out in jewellery and leather; he used to wear a lot of tye-dye. I complimented his daring hairdo, but after that, I had nothing. He complimented my ensemble. He had nothing either.

He introduced me to his friend, and I introduced Rachalle, and he pointed out the ‘vodka slide’ to us. Two long slabs of ice on an angle with a channel running down the middle. Vodka is poured down the channel for the two people kneeling, ready to receive their spirited communion. Rule was that you had to kiss whoever you decided to commune with.

We ended up talking to this guy we’d met through another friend before. He fancied Rachalle, so I talked to his friend. For some reason I was feeling quite confrontational and we ended up getting into quite a heated discussion about romance, empathy, sex and mental illness. No small talk here. He said he did have the capacity to just ‘switch off’ with a woman. I was incredulous; how is this possible, to love someone, and then just go ‘ooh, what’s over there?’ like a dog noticing a rabbit or something?

I exhausted myself and didn’t really want to talk anymore. I was sick of leaning forward to hear what they were saying, and they had strange energy.

When I said I didn’t drink excessively or take drugs (been there done that) the skinny guy said “Oh you’re really boring” and I agreed. I said

“Yes, yes you’re right, I think I might be one of the most boring people in existence and I like it.” He didn’t really know what to say back to that.

Rachalle had slinked away to talk to someone else, and I looked around wishing I could find someone nice to talk to. Yes. Nice. I’d have traded clever for kindness or wisdom in a heartbeat. (Been playing Babyshambles ‘fuck forver’ a lot this week).

At some point before Rachalle got away she pointed out this girl who was desperate for a vodka shot from the ice slide. I waved at her -“I’ll do it with you”

Shook her hand and said hello, as if we were at a church fete. Her name was something like Pascalle or Paloma. She was blonde and smiley but tight lipped; the kiss was a bit disappointing. Still, I enjoyed the cold feeling of the ice on my lips when the vodka slid down my throat.

Now on the radio ... I like that Florence song that says ‘it’s always darkest before the dawn’ as there’s some line about taking out your heart and restarting it. If only that were possible!Ooh and god, they just said they’re going to play Tom Waits ‘Same kind of Bad as Me’. Thanks Mr Waits. “No good you say? Well that’s good enough for me.”

Fun lyrics!

Yesterday I had my internet date, it was fine. He wants to see me again, and maybe I will. Have to see how I feel; he’s nice enough, attractive in his way, but I just don’t know that we have enough in common.

The orchid Andrew gave me about two months ago is still alive which is amazing, I usually kill plants quite quickly. Made us a crazy healthy dinner last night, back into the Quinoa, god it’s yum. Had it with broccoli, mushrooms, some tamari sauce and a pile of buttered asparagus.

Saw mum yesterday and walked around from Murray’s Bay to Rothesay bay with her. Stopped and talked to a cat, and a Tui swooped so close that we could see all the oily blue green of it’s plumage. Everything was imbued with meaning and beauty.

Picked our way along the beach at low tide on our way back, saw moss growing on wet rocks and imagined tiny trolls might come out for a little wank.

We made up some new words for James Blunt’s ‘your beautiful’ as I suddenly envisioned him singing to the severed head of a murder victim in a plastic bag. We thought this was hilarious: “I saw your face, in a plastic bag, and I don’t know what to do, cos I’ve gone and murdered you ... you’re beautiful ... it’s true.’ I think an album entitled ‘Songs for Stalkers’ would be great. It would have all the songs on it that sound a bit strange and suspect, like ‘every breath you take’ by Sting. Someone who watches you all the time? Creepy.

Sunday avo:

Caught up with Mike, hadn’t seen him for a million years. He’s in a lovely relationship, and looking good as ever. Had some wine in the garden bar of the Belgian beer bar in Ponsonby, talked about my job and also about dating and how difficult it can be to read others. Who knows what planet others are on?

What I do think is that it pays not to make assumptions about anything. David, why couldn't you have talked to me? I'm not going to make someone else responsible for my feelings.

I said to mum

“I wish I could leave my body for awhile”

“Oh darling, you don’t mean you want to die or anything?”

“Oh shit no, I just mean it would be great to leave my body for awhile, go flying out high above everything so that I had a really good perspective of it all ... and then when I returned I would really know that I’m not separate from anyone or anything.”

“Yeah, that sounds good”.

That’s the work though isn’t it? Connect with that higher perspective without having to leave the body to do it. I’m getting there. It’s slowly taking shape.

So I’m sending you all love and light, a feeling of being anchored safely in your body. We’re all connected. We are all loved, divine and mundane. Watch it and feel it, it’s our own creation, the story of the moment. If you feel hurt, feel hurt, it’s ok. You’re scared? Join the club. You’re alone? That could never be. And wait. There it is. You let it go and then you were returned to yourself, perfect, whole, lovable.

The light is pouring through the window.

Seek Pleasure, Forgive, Dance, Meditate!

Photos: taken about three weeks ago: The Pipeline walk in Titirangi.

Friday 28th October:

Well slap me twice and call me a rabbit moon!

On Monday morning I was falling in love. By Monday afternoon I was feeling rejected and confused. By Tuesday I was broken hearted, and today I'm on the mend! Had a fantastic day.

How can this be?

Well I can't say it was easy, but I just kept coming back to Forgiveness and how that is the thread woven into love and freedom.

I like this:

Forgiving what we have judged and refusing to judge it again, changes our belief of what is real and true because it brings us peace and makes us happy. Feeling unconditionally loved opens our heart to loving unconditionally and dispels the idea that sacrifice and suffering play any part in awakening to the truth of our Oneness. It confirms what we already know, but have denied and hidden behind our belief that we have lost God’s Love. Tom (The Forgiveness Network)

Ok, so I considered that and it was so clear: I really was wanting the kind of connection with a man that you can only ever get from a spiritual source.

I'm not going to get all guilty and weird about it; humans do it all the time. We make it about 'out there', and it seems to me that often people use each other like some kind of substance. It's incredibly tempting to do it when you feel like you've met someone really special and are wanting validation.

Suddenly I forgot to stand back. I was so far into the feelings and really thought D was on the same page. I just couldn't be cool. It was 'pre-moon time' and I'm assuming the amount of Oxytocin I'd released over the two week time span was bonding me to my lover.

On the topic of oxytocin by Susan E.Barker:

.... studies show that oxytocin in females, as well as the closely related vasopressin in males, is key to pair bonding.

"You first meet him and he’s passable," Witt said of the phenomena. "The second time you go out with him, he’s OK. The third time you go out with him, you have sex. And from that point on you can’t imagine what life would be like without him."

"What’s behind it?" she added. "It could be oxytocin."

Since the release of oxytocin can be classically conditioned, after repeatedly having sex with the same partner, just seeing that partner could release more oxytocin, making you want to be with that person all the more, and you bond, she said.

Isn't that interesting?

Anyway, that's just a little diversion. The real path I'm leading you down is about how to handle it if you do feel like you've been rejected. The key to turning it around is recognising the story you're 'making up'; from there making a decision to find a gift from the situation.

I could have told a fine story about D. Oh pooh, I could have really turned it on couldn't I? But you may remember that I'd agreed we were still 'dating' others. So it was me who changed my mind and then got all hurt and upset.

The cake I had to eat was a slab of dry Tactlessness, (would you like yoghurt with that? Yes I bloody well would!) but that's the biggest problem with the situation.

I chose to suffer and choke. Didn't know what to do really. Never had anything like it happen to me before. I'm used to men knowing they want me and that's that. Not after one or two dates necessarily (though that has happened), but usually after a few weeks of getting to know someone.

Anyway, that's all the little gritty normal bits that people worry about and get all entangled in. What I did was look at it from the higher self perspective. I sat quietly and asked about it all. I got the answers I needed and decided I had to stop and just enjoy the gifts that came from it. Lots of fun. Good conversation. Lovely kisses. If the French Intellectual re-ignited my love of writing playfully, then D was about being playful moment to moment.

I asked the Higher Self what to do to feel better about it.The message was clear:

"Seek pleasure, joy and lightness of being. Allow the Universe to carry you. Remain healthy, joyful and centred as possible. Do everything you can to feel good."

And so I am.

Andrew came over with a lovely meal, wine and chocolates last night. He told me I was beautiful. I said

"Am I using you like a substance?" and he said

"A little bit." and just smiled.

Set Yourself Awesooommmmme Morning Rituals! Dance baby dance!

In the morning I did my Salute to the Sun three times, my Pranayama breathing (alternate nostrils) three 'Oms', and then ... yes folks .... I did my second day of 'a morning dance'.

Day 1 of Dance was Blur (on the radio), that 'boys who love girls' song. Had to pretend I knew the words apart from the bit about love in the 90's being paranoid.

Today, Day 2, was AC/DC 'She's got the Jack' and The Stranglers 'Something Better Change'.

Went into the office right in time to be treated to a decent coffee and a few sweet things, did a minimal amount of work and then met Tam for lunch. Op shopped, found a rather too short denim skirt that I can wear over summer, and then grabbed some wine for the weekend.

Rachalle's making me din dins tonight, then we have a few options. A bar opening. A party at Imogen's; she's turning 26 and the theme is Eurotrash. Ha! I could wear all the trashiest things I own at once, how exciting. Must find my chunky fake gold chain. Pity I haven't had a spray tan.

Lovely weekend lined up too! Got an internet coffee date tomorrow (he lives on the Shore) so I'll stop in Takapuna to see him before catching up with Ma. Gonna hang with da mamma and probably observe people with their dogs on the beach; one of our favourite things to do.

Andrew showed me why I wasn't able to burn CD's properly, so now that's all sorted I'm very happy. Burned The Stranglers, some Cocteau Twins and created a fine assortment this morning.

There are a couple of old Frank Black songs I've really enjoyed again, all these years on. One is The Vanishing Spies. Fuck knows exactly what he's on about, I create my own meaning, sometimes it's just the feeling that goes with the sound of the song anyway ...

Give me a blip

And I'll totally flip

Say it's nothing but sky

And I'll be a lonely guy

The vanishing spies

just something I read

Now there were two eyes

sent out from the head

and all that was said

was that is just how some things do not materialize ...

Yes indeed Frank, I get you on the blip. Some sign of life out there ay? Ok, the other one, off the same album (entire album only has a few goodies on it) is Speedy Marie. This is so good, it brings a tear to my eye.

Juxtaposed in each moment’s sight

Everything that I ever saw

And my one delight

Nothing can strike me in such awe

Mouth intricate shapes the voice that speaks

Always it will soothe

Rarer none are the precious cheeks

Is the size of each sculpted tooth

Each lip and each eye

Wise is the tongue, wet of perfect thought

And softest neck where always do I

Lay my clumsy thoughts

She is that most lovely art

Happy are my mind and my soul and my heart

How lovely is that!? God!

Wise is the tongue, wet of perfect thought. Mmm. Very nice.

Have a stunning weekend, be kind to yourself, and if you can't be kind to yourself, buy a really cool whip!

DWO: Didn't Work Out, but I have Tane Mahuta in my heart.

26^th October 2011

Romance no longer in my Pants, but Tane Mahuta in my heart.

On day 13 of forgiveness I saw grace enter. That was Friday. That was the night I wore the black lace and David said he felt like he was falling into me. It feels like a long time ago.

I wrote in my diary:

“ Meeting someone wonderful brings up all the possibilities for pleasure and fear, and in forgiveness I release attachment. I am released from demanding pleasure or cowering from my invented fears ... we choose to love or not love all the time. I choose to trust and love.”

Now it’s Wednesday and I’m ready for day 14 of forgiveness.

It’s myself I need to forgive. It’s so tempting to think of how I could have re-done things. To say ‘I shouldn’t have slept with him so fast’, or ‘I knew I shouldn’t have stayed and met his mother on Monday” or “Why on Earth did I spend three nights in a row with him if we’re ‘just dating’?”.

I can't turn this into a caricature because I really thought we had something pretty amazing going on.

After another fantastic weekend of laughing, eating, making love, being silly, being serious, and listening to music, he said was off out to meet this other girl off the internet dating site. God. Why tell me?

I spent the day feeling awful, imagining them having a six hour first date the way we did ... and as they're getting to know each other he’ll do funny walks in the supermarket and sing Chris Knox ‘and I would cry for you, maybe even die for yoouuuuu’ with her while they're drinking coffee in bed. He’ll pretend he can’t take his hand off her arse, that it’s somehow glued there. He’ll look deep into her eyes, share his fears and thoughts, and laugh at all her jokes. He's pretty amazing really. Maybe he's just pretty amazing with a lot of women.

I wrote a lot about this, but for the sake of my own dignity I think it's better to say a little less than I originally wanted to.

It was a pretty intense and fast moving affair. Felt like two months condensed into two weeks. Although I started to feel like I could fall in love with him, at least he was honest about not being ready. Tactless, but honest.

Andrew came over last night and we went to Yoga together, then had dinner in Titirangi. It was lovely. He offered to 'comfort' me, which of course was done with the trademark flash of lust and love in his eyes. I declined, but the comfort he gave me with his friendship, the assurance of love that has lasted beyond a conventional romance was greatly appreciated.

I feel like I have Tane Mahuta growing inside my soul. Yesterday I was a kitten tied in a sack, but this morning strength was running through me. Tane Mahuta, the giant Kauri, has taken up residence in my spirit.

I fell asleep after 2am, I could feel this endlessly peaceful presence with me and knew I was ok. You can't make someone care for you. That's not loving. You also can't pretend to be cool with things that hurt, that's not self-care.

When I woke up I did my salute to the sun twice. I did Pranayama breathing. I ate fruit toast. I dressed well, I put on my lipstick. I checked myself out. I fucking rock!

Unfold

I grieved for what

I thought was unfolding

My heart stuck to the

bottom of his boot

The sky is turning me on

the pillow is an angel

my friends shelter me

I regret nothing

After 2am

Something greater than I unfurled

my sea-heart swaying

It’s delicious

I’m afloat on all this

Love

And I didn’t find it out

there

Always

It was

Here

here

here.

And that’s the lesson learned once more. No love is ever wasted or lost. I have a fondness for heights and for depths; I dove fast and hard. I met a beautiful man and truly enjoyed what I’ve learned from being with him. God, he was interesting, intelligent, funny and sexy.

I hope he figures out what he wants. Start with what you don’t want, that’s always been mum’s advice!

I keep imagining a man stumbling through a cave full of golden nuggets. He puts his hands on the gold as he makes his way through the cave. He looks up, he looks down, he looks back, but he never stops to look carefully at what he’s actually touching. He gets through the whole cave without ever seeing the gold. But he’ll keep searching.

Wish him luck.

La la la la!

Left: 'the holy alien'.

October 20^th

Day 11 of forgiveness

Something inside me is shaking. I can’t seem to help it.

I almost feel like I’m on the edge of a depression, it’s fucking awful. Maybe 28 days of forgiveness isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Maybe I can let it go. Maybe I want 28 days of dance instead. Yeah, I like the sound of that. Put on a good song every morning and dance.

I got into this whole idea of forgiveness as a sort of programme. The only programme that’s worked for me in life has been to focus on the good and the wanted; holding focus on whatever brings joy.

So instead of forgiveness, what could I do? Maybe the word itself annoys me. It’s so weighed down with piousness isn’t it? Oooh, I forgive you.

Yet I have to say, something has definitely shifted. When I think of the Fish, I don’t feel like seeing her plunge off a cliff-top, reappearing only to show a bloodied face. I sort of feel neutral. Why on Earth would I care so much for someone who wasn’t even a very good friend to me anyway? What’s going on there? She was impatient, cold, calculating, disloyal, and mercenary. So if that’s the mirror, the shadow side of me that needed integrating ... holy shit.

But I did do my best to do just that. You’re a bitch. Fine, then so am I. You’re cold? Ok, I’m sure there are a few people who have struck ice with me on occasion (though, quite frankly, it’s hard to believe).

Thing with the old mirror idea is that the more you love yourself and release others from judgement, you find you don’t attract as many fuckwits into your life. So when Fish ceased to be my friend, it’s because our game was over. The delightful play of bully and victim, rich and poor, cold and hot. An interesting and energetic dance, but really, how exhausting!

So thankyou, Fish Face, for showing me what I no longer needed to have around. For showing me my shadow and how it has it’s gifts. Cos there will be times when being a ‘bitch’ comes in handy, and when maintaining distance might be the wise move. Dunno when, but hey, I’m trying to be positive here.

Maybe 11 days of forgiveness is enough?

Shall I try 28 days of dance? Bet it’s more fun.

Got a good weekend to look forward to, seeing David on Friday (dinner I think, ooh, I can wear my black lace dress), Tam for lunch on Saturday, and possibly catching up with Andrew for coffee on Sunday. Tam’s having a bbq on the Sunday for the big game, but I’m not sure if I’m going to mum’s or not. Sort of wish I could divide myself.

Moonlight Wish

May your aliens and angels sustain you

may the light of the new moon drench your house in the fulfilment of wishes

The traffic flows freely and your coffee is strong and it hits the spot

Children smile at you, dogs wag their tails

The hedges smell of lavender and lemons fall from the trees into your hands

You are loved, cut open for the sky to look into

Eyes

Moonfilled

Scooping sunlight from the earth

Rolling

Down the hill

Into the sea, laughing.

October 22^nd 2011

Well slap me with a fish and call me crazy, I feel considerably better.

I will do day 12 of my forgiveness work tomorrow. I’ve realised (thanks to David really) that I may as well plug away and finish it. After that, perhaps 28 days of dance will follow.

I wore my black lace on Friday and enjoyed an average dinner with above average company at Altar in Mt Eden. I really like the way D looks at me. He doesn’t give ‘normal’ compliments either, it’s more like “you’ve done really well” which I still like ... but it does make me imagine I’ve come first for entering a prize pig at the school fair.

“You’ve done very well”

“Thankyou Sire, I oiled my pig in lemon oil and sang her songs every night for months. I hoped it would make the difference!”

“I think it’s safe to say it has lass, I think it’s safe to say it has.”

The farmer looks kindly upon the schoolgirl clutching her shiny pig (wait, this could turn into a porn story if the girl was a bit older).

I digress!

I think what I was trying to say was that I’ve had another lovely time with D. He’s not ready to go off the dating site yet, so I may as well go back on so that things aren’t imbalanced. Yes, yes, I know, he’s completely mad, he should really snap me up while he can, but you can’t rush these things can you? Well, you can, but it doesn’t bode well for anyone. Best to take it easy, part of trusting myself.

I had lunch with Tam today; another average meal, this time at Elevation out West. God help me, it was dire in terms of service and the quality of the food was lower than a University cafe. But still, once more, very high quality company. Fortunately I have one of those discount books (Entertainment) so it ended up being quite cheap. If it was full price it would have been painful.

They forgot to charge us for one glass of wine, and I’d normally be honest and tell them, but felt we deserved a tip for going there. Yes that’s right, Tam and I probably should have been paid to eat there ... it was just so odd, with some dude running around in his jandals, and one of the waitresses totally incapable of forming even a rudimentary grimace let alone a smile.

Ahhh, feeling rested and positive.

Onward and upward my prize pigs, onward and upward.

Sunday 23rd October:

Went to the hot pools with D last night, the wonderfully run down Palm Springs out Helensville way. We've had another long date. It appears to have started on Friday night, and only in the last few hours he went home to do a few things. We know we should WATCH THE BIG GAME, and that it might be quite rude not to. We might MISS OUT if we don't go and share the vibe with lovely people.

I could quite easily sit in bed and watch a DVD on the laptop, have a cuppa, a piece of fruity toast with too much butter, maybe run into the lounge and put the game on in the last half and yell a bit if we win. I do want to go to Tam's bbq, but I have that thing where I'm all languid and sleepy. (Found out the game isn't on till about 9pm, so that's good).

And now, how's this for a poem:

Lines in Gold by Gerad de Nerval

Man, do you think yours is the only soul?

Look around you. Everything that you see

Quivers with being. Though your thoughts are free,

One thing you do not think about, the whole.

Beasts have a mind. Respect it. Flowers too.

Look at one. Nature brought forth each petal.

There is a mystery that sleeps in metal.

"Everything feels!" and has power over you.

Be careful! The blind wall is spying on us.

Even matter is connected to a word ...

Do not make it serve some unholy purpose.

A god in darkness often walks obscured.

As eyelids of a newborn infant open

A spirit wakes and gazes in the stone.

I feel like I only understand about half of that. It's the last stanza I'm not sure about ... is the god in darkness us? The spirit waking and gazing in the stone, is it a tombstone? Ooh it's good stuff whatever the case.

'The gifts and ghosts of lovers past', that's a good beginning of a poem. Not sure where to take it though ...

Tell you what I'm going to listen to far too often as summer approaches; The Stranglers. I only ever knew a handful of their songs. I remember a flatmate, Michael, listened to them. I had a huge crush on him and after he moved out of the flat we started going out together. It was very intense. Didn't last long. He'd been molested as a child and I was the first person he'd ever told, but instead of drawing us close he ended up getting really weird and nasty. I never did hold a grudge against him. It's easy to forgive when you know there was a really good reason for the person to be so fearful.

Anyway, he had good taste in music, but I couldn't quite get into The Stranglers, New Order and Joy Division to the degree that he did. I was mainly thinking of 'nice and sleazy' but now that I've listened to some of the other tracks I realise how good it all is ... and not easy to define either.

Oh, went to Siren cafe today and D (for Double Dragon) pronounced his eggs Benedict satisfactory but the service sullen. My meal was also fine, but I think I could've done just as well at home. My poached eggs were ever so slightly overdone and there was a distinct lack of moisture. I requested some aioli (have I spelt that wrong?) but it should have come with it automatically. Many cafe staff seem to lack the ability to smile. I could run smiling classes for people.

Fortunately the coffee was very good, and after that we strolled through Lopdell house, found out how different our tastes were in the world of ... was it pottery? I really liked these massive white Hares ... one with full breasts and layers of fat, the other gaunt and looking into a mirror. Just amazing. D preferred a very simple pot with pencil markings on the exterior, the interior bright orange. He also admired these very shiny looking teapots. I think they were teapots. I liked his reasoning though; they lacked pretension and were pleasing to the eye.

In the shop I admired the bright resin birds which he declared garish. I suppose I could have said the 'pencilled pot' was only interesting in that it could actually hold some pencils, but I think that's a bit mean, and I don't want to be mean to people I like.

I'm far too sensitive, I know.

The gifts and ghosts of lovers past

line the walls and fade

Strange Tuesday

Tuesday blog

Well my pretty ponies,

I had grand intentions of going to yoga tonight, but I spent too long at the office in New Market, got hungry and had to have burger fuel.

The new earlier start out at Takanini mean I have to be Miss Early Pants at bed time.

At Burgerfuel, I sat waiting on a stool looking out the window. A skinny young guy, around 20, with bad teeth smiled at me through the window and asked

"can I have a conversation with you?".

"You can try" I replied.

He came inside and lurched too close to me.

"Can I have conversation with you?" his breath was of the alco-pop variety.

"As I said, you can try, but when my food comes I want to eat alone."

I asked what he’d been drinking. He named something I’d never heard of.

"Ok," he said "give me a topic to talk about".

"Ok, the nature of reality. Are we really here or is it all an illusion? Have we created it?"

"Ah, it's real. God made it, and he made Adam, and then Eve was made out of his left rib and that was near his heart."

He continued in this vein.

"So were you raised Christian?" I asked

"Yeah, yeah I was."

"Have you ever thought about how people in churches might take things like biblical mythologies and distort them for their own need for power?"

"Nah. Nah I haven't thought of that."

His curly haired friend proffered a stubby butt of ciggarette towards the window that separated us.

"Nah, nah, I don't wanit" said Drunk Bible Boy. His friend smoked the last of his tailor made and then came inside. He didn’t say anything, but he was smiley and his eyes were bloodshot.

A couple of good looking young guys walked past and Drunk Boy shot them a look saying

“see that cunt, that brown guy, well once when I was playing video games he came up to me and he had piss on his hands and he wiped them on my face because I wouldn’t give him any alcohol. I woulda ... he’s lucky he’s related to a friend of mine, I woulda ...”, he lightly punches his fist into the palm of his other hand.

I agreed it wasn’t good, having someone wipe piss on your face. Not nice at all.

His friend sat and listened, not saying a word, still with a goony smile on his face.

My food arrived.

“Well, I’d like to eat alone now.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah,” he put his hand on my knee, “sorry.”

“No need to be sorry. You asked if you could have a conversation with me and I agreed.”

“The truth is,” he leaned in too close to whisper to me,

“I came to talk to you because I haven’t had sex for nine months.”

I smiled.

“Well I’m actually old enough to be your mother, and I had sex this weekend.”

He registered surprise only briefly before quickly gathering his thoughts.

“Nah, nah, well how old are you?”

“I’m forty.”

“Oh, oh, ah, well,” (shit, that’s a bit older than he anticipated)

“ ... that is ... well I am used to being with older women you see”

“And now it’s hard to go back because older women are good and know what they’re doing?”

“Yes! Yes that’s right.”

“Well I wish you luck, and just have a good toss every morning in the meantime.”

“But a toss isn’t as good.”

“Well of course not, but it does.”

“yeah, yeah ...” he said sadly and then said his goodbyes.

They stood outside for far too long and I tried not to look at them. Wanted to eat my burger in peace. Eventually they toddled off and I waved goodbye.

So that was my strange little Burger Fuel story. I should have gone home and got my yoga gear on. I could be doing downward facing dogs right now. Ah well, at least I did a good lot of walking today.

I’m so tired though, and on Friday I’ll go to the doc and find out if I’m low in iron or if it’s just my constitution.

I’m continuing to see David and find it hard to believe we’ve only known each other a week. What I like is that we can talk about almost anything and we occasionally will break into song together. It’s a pity I’m not on the FSO site as I miss reading him.

I went off as I’d decided I needed a rest from it, but I’d already agreed to meet David. Maybe I should go back on, seems imbalanced to date someone who is still taking part of that medium when I'm not, and obviously we're just getting to know each other.

God I love words. Tam has written me some fantastic emails lately and it’s like medicine in mind. She was incredible like that when I was in Korea. I think we sometimes emailed each other three or more times a day! So often our emails centred on developing a sense of self that wasn’t dependent on anyone else.

On the topic of forgiveness I’ve realised how entwined it is with everything.

It’s now Day 10 (missed a few) of forgiveness and on day 9 I looked at how forgiveness is this release from guilt, and that a release from guilt is the expansion of love and freedom.

I also need to get back into my crazy positivity vibe again, where I write down things I’m grateful for every morning. Tieneke and I walked up to the village this morning and talked about such things over coffee. If I were to make such a list now it might go like this:

I am grateful for my eyes, for my yes, for good coffee and kisses. I am grateful for my peace of mind, dark chocolate, and how ... even though it isn’t always easy ... how much I feel, feel, feel.

I bow my higher self to you all. I am more than this body. I am here to learn. It's ok.

Forgiveness, books, energy, men and women.

Day 7 of forgiveness, and other bits!

October 13^th 2011

Today I’ve decided to open two books randomly and look for something illuminating from the page I fall on.

The first is from ‘Between Extremes’ by Brian Keenan and John McCarthy. I picked this up for $2 from the New Lynn Salvation Army along with a few other gems. It’s the story of a friendship ‘born from adversity’ due to the fact that they were locked in a Lebanese dungeon for four years, and how they sustained themselves with dreams of walking in the Andes and the ‘wastes of Patagonia’. This book documents the fulfilment of those dreams.

First, I must share this passage as it really did it for me:

“Nearing the start of our Chilean journey, we fly along a narrow coastal strip of dull brown earth. A road, glistening and wandering like a filament of treacle, spins along near the sea, the few vehicles on it like beetles scuttling for safety.”

The bit I kept re-reading was ‘a filament of treacle’. Holy shit, that sounds amazing. Never mind the fact that he survived four years in a Lebanese dungeon, anyone who writes ‘filament of treacle’ is a genius. I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I kept repeating it to myself like a mantra.

Ok, so here goes the random bit:

“The spine of my copy of Isla Negra was broken and its pages creased and covered in cryptic notes and heavily penned lines to mark significant stanzas. The author had also made this night journey to Santiago. Wearily I ran a crooked line under these words from his poem ‘Night Train’ and felt the flush of kinship:

Exhausted, I slept like wood,

and when I woke

I felt the agony of the rain.

Something was separating me from my blood.

What would separate you from your blood? Death or vengeance? Curdling with pain? You can imagine the blood somehow coming apart inside the body, like oil rising on water, forcing its way out. It’s probably about family and history.

Ok, random selection two is from Shakti Gawain’s ‘Living in the Light’. I read this when I was 22 and am now dipping back through it at leisure, appreciating everything I thought I understood in my early 20’s.

Oh, interesting.

Sustaining Passion in Relationships

A deadness occurs in relationships when people are no longer willing to tell each other how they really feel. When people first fall in love they’re more willing to do this because they’re still getting to know each other and dependency has not yet set in. As soon as it does, though, people often stop sharing their true feelings out of fear of loss.

This is a topic that’s come up many times with friends. I’ve never had a relationship go beyond five years, so passion has always been sustainable (even when other aspects might be limping along).

I suppose people get irritated with each other and choose to focus on trivial things too much instead of looking at what intoxicated them when they first met.

I’m glad to have had some really graceful exits in regards to the two men I’ve cared for deeply in recent years. Wishing each other well, knowing that it’s just not compatible but that so much has been learnt.

I could be holding a grudge, imagine I wasted time or energy, but I know that’s not the case. I believe no love is ever wasted.

I’ve been thinking about rules around relationships and the way men and women behave with each other at the moment. I get confused about it. Are we playing out old roles that made sense when we were cave dwellers? What about stuff like guys reading ‘The Game’?

As Gawain says (pg 128)

“If we’re either buying into external rules or rebelling against them, our natural energy gets ignored. To get in touch with that takes letting go of all previous ideas; it means changing everything you’ve been doing. To have ecstasy, we have to risk trusting ourselves, learn to put away external rules, and then discover our internal rhythm.”

Can I trust myself? I’d like to think so. I want that freedom .

My freedom. What is that? I usually imagine myself running across a big paddock with my arms in the air, wearing a dress from the 1930’s.

I like to think its freedom from any story that casts me as the victim or the bully. Being here in a body, I’m prone to projecting fears and doubts before me like a dark torch.

The step that's helped me the most is remembering I do have the ability to pick up another source of light, that it's up to me to keep training myself to use it and focus on what's wanted.

When you connect on a level beyond the body, then the body will be tuned in, not something to make into an enemy. Making wiser choices will flow. Clear the mind, follow the gut. Does that make any sense?

The rain is gurgling in the pipes in the ceiling here at work, and my cardigan is grey which matches the sodden day. The wee play I saw with David last night was quite good. ‘A boy and his bicycle’, by Joseph Harper. It was pretty raw, but there were moments that really made us laugh.

I’m seeing David again tomorrow night. He’s making me dinner. I’m looking forward to it.