Loosing Emptiness

At a certain point in my life I went nuts. Now I'm sorry to all those who have heard this before.There are several members of my family who know these times with, perhaps, more pain than i do, and I fear your resentment that I dwell on them, rather than release. Please trust that I have tried in every way I can to grow, and the muse I follow now is teachin g nme to no longer hide, and thus no longer be stuck in pain.

Joy is birthing. I shuck my old skins in full humility.

I am recently restating my memories, because my attitude is helping me breathe life into the realization that I cannot hide, and I suffocate when I intend to hold my fears within - my joy and passion for life get held down as well.

I have been on the edge of drowning in deep waters for too long. I am coming up proud of my skills, and with little self consciousness remaining. I cannot afford it.

Lunatic is a nice term. When you tune with luna, or at least as I do, everything gets a little strange. reason doesn't come first anymnore, and under such circumstances, many odditiies abound. yet it is the challenge of integrating these magical, more feminine wilderness, with contemporary reality, that creates our fearful ideas about insanity.

... not the nature of the moon herself.

thousands of years of pushing away the animal has created so much confusion and fear. 'I am not an animal' is a very shakey meme upon which to build a conception of reality, and yet in so many ways that is what we have been handed as the roots, of what it is...

.. to be human.

As I faced into this, and began to feel the torrents of the moon's pull within my body, I felt the animal, and the cultural conception that such is beastly, and beastly is horror, and even dare we say, evil.

e-veil, a veil behind which lies the ancient truth of our communion with gaia, and the lack of clarity that comes with the deconstruction of polarity. give up the compass of simplicity, the value judgement against black and white, and life becomes more colored, and more confusing.

for what we have known as darkness, is really just the shade.

And as I faced the horrifying repression of these lunatic tides... I felt that I was being eaten alive. It was a very difficult time, and made all the worse for my loss, my forgetting, of the of the joy. I know it was joyful, because I always seemed to have enough faith to keep goihng, and my body remembered joy even when my mind could not. but my mind is stuck in the memnory of pain, confusion, suicidal angst, all of which is blessedly... greatly... dampened now.

I'm emerging.

And as I do, I have not lost the tale of loosing. I learned then, that rhythm kept me sane. rhythm in sound and body. the rhythm to feel, and eventually to transoform and rechannel, the energies of the luna song within a world obsessed with the banal. She, sent me salvation in the form of rhythms, yet she refused to un veil herself to me least I promise to forget so much of what I saw along the way,...

so I learned to sing my song, and let it go.

The agony of finding the whale song itself, the caverns of a sirens own muse, amdist the chaos of my disintegrating reality... to be saved again and again by consciosness that refused to stay.

again and again and again.

for it was in releasing the songs, and the hope of harnessing them for an egoic emergence in this material plane, that i was lead further. you can't keep going if you refuse to let go.

and I truly and completely forgot most of the songs I was given to lead me, blind, through the forrests of my subconsciousness, and its hidden doorways to realities beyond all I had known.

Again and again and again.

'they are alive' she told me 'they choose to stay with you, or not, and if you write down the words and their call and cadence... you will marry the depths, and never return, or fry your mind, and imprint trauma so deeply you'll be nothing but that, frozen trauma. they are alive, these muses. they came to guide you in our ways, not to enrich your ego here. they have the right to insist that you forget them.

A decade past the days when I first began to forget the music that saved my life... and some of them have returned, and stayed. It was learning to flow that was my true salvation, not any moment within the shifting ocean. I learned to surf reality, and even dive beneath it and return. the days are long gone where each note and flow left me gasping, in wonder and angst that they were slipping away. now, I just sing, and trust what comes

And I do so in rhythm with Luna's song
These flows will never be sung again
It is the quarter, come dancw with us
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