tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-58957415374993399552024-02-19T21:54:10.042-08:00the secret life of echoesserafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-81233850792888296092021-07-01T15:20:00.003-07:002021-07-24T11:59:59.503-07:00A Holistic Hysterectomy<p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></b></p><p style="text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;">CONTENTS</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">GRATITUDE<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;">PREFACE: Journaling a Month of Deep Integral Healing<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span>IT ALL STARTED…</span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">PREPARATION: Body, Mind, Paperwork and Soul<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span>WEEK 1: Hospital Stay and Home Stay</span><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">WEEK 2: No, No Stay! Energy a Go-go!!<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">WEEK 3: Trying on New Shapes</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">WEEK 4: Mud, Jungle, Mountain, Desert, River, Forest, Prairie, Cave<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">WEEK 5: Cleared for Living<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">FREE WRITE: What's in a Womb?<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">WEEK 6: POST-SCRIPTUM - New Womb, New Rules, New Gender?</span></p><p class="p1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 8px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">REFERENCES<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">CONTACTS<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span class="s1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;">GRATITUDE</span></span></b></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Courtney</b> <b>+ Judith</b>- my integrity coach + good vibes.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Luciano and Sofia</b> - my handlers with heart.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Christine</b> - the all arounder shawoman.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Ruth and Eran</b> - my true medicine providers.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Libby + Katharine</b> - helper supermoms.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Natiblue, Silvia + Marian</b> -<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>facilitators.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Olga</b> - art therapy.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Sandy</b> - energy counselor.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Howard</b> - craniosacral healer.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Laya</b> - massage therapist.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Matthew</b> - teen mentor.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Daniel </b>- dancing bro + male wound healer.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Heloïse</b> - yoni cave guide.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span class="s1" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Cat + Francis</b> - family vibe. </span></span></p><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpAcYZvn7gk0p59i2PojEfEERwVZzVUPoiuEVYKoMGK2j_te_c6OZp21fgvzaEJDuL0BxvUneI03NO2_YhAiIiiiqondrb1Oxzz1_IlhHL5-ww9yhAZbOOYrida2u9S0tFR1SOKf8Nb4k/s1043/Yoni+cave.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1043" data-original-width="831" height="448" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpAcYZvn7gk0p59i2PojEfEERwVZzVUPoiuEVYKoMGK2j_te_c6OZp21fgvzaEJDuL0BxvUneI03NO2_YhAiIiiiqondrb1Oxzz1_IlhHL5-ww9yhAZbOOYrida2u9S0tFR1SOKf8Nb4k/w357-h448/Yoni+cave.jpeg" width="357" /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>PREFACE: Journaling a Month of Deep Integral Healing</b></span></span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">What I love about a deep healing journey is that you learn something profound about yourself, your limits and the way you care for yourself. Whether you go through it and come out healed and in awe of life, or you come out not so healed and have to return to it later to work through the trauma and patterning (dare I say: co-dependency of pain), it is an opportunity to know thyself.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This diary is in no way meant to be representative of all hysterectomy experiences. Just one. Mine, which happened to be a generally good revelatory experience. Many hysterectomies have difficult and injurious outcomes and I do not wish to downplay any of them. My intention here is to provide a counterpoint to all the fearful and solemn accounts I read about before my operation. I found hardly any positive holistic experiences to read. Most were about what a big heavy deal it was. I felt warned but not supported in my wish for a happy healthy outcome. The accounts were mostly cautionary and sometimes quite a gratuitous moan. I would like to offer a more integrative view, sharing not only the physical approach but also emotional and soulful aspects of healing.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hopefully, this account will inspire anyone who is facing a need for healing or anyone who is in a supporting role. May they be encouraged to draw from many levels of existence for additional support. Sometimes my account can seem woo-woo but a gentle reminder: we all have our relative symbolic thrall. For some, it's a connection to the earth or to a type of god or to a logic system. All are valid when facing the work of healing; belief and trust have been proven to be a big part of accelerated healing. So my woo-woo may be your Allah or someone else's scientific process. Whatever you believe can be substituted in here. The important takeaway here is that you integrate all aspects of your existence to fully heal. That is my belief and my experience.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Writing this log was my way of processing the experience. Maybe you have a different way- singing, painting, making puzzles… whatever it is, I recommend expressing your process.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Btw, for those of you who don't know me-<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I am 50, a single mother of a teen, born in the USA, and live in the countryside in Mallorca, Spain. Some of my work includes being a movement facilitator, event producer, teen counselor, writer, and property manager.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsLoIRYL_vCDcCONrNqp1OiTM1s5F4u9VE3fr1WG-Duu-OSncmnJyD4wUNIgziUT1wpKchTDdWsQ9bXjg2oErQjfA1W-GXERvPPsFTlAfxrdU-yLPP4SFWBFMASH7JrP_zaJXi3aDKc44/s1280/Happy+Me.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1146" data-original-width="1280" height="358" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsLoIRYL_vCDcCONrNqp1OiTM1s5F4u9VE3fr1WG-Duu-OSncmnJyD4wUNIgziUT1wpKchTDdWsQ9bXjg2oErQjfA1W-GXERvPPsFTlAfxrdU-yLPP4SFWBFMASH7JrP_zaJXi3aDKc44/w400-h358/Happy+Me.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had my operation at a clinic in Palma, the main city of Mallorca.</span></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><b>IT ALL STARTED…</b></span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">… with an egg-shaped shadow. Not an egg that promised life.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></i></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">An egg that was fibrous, full of void, promising discomfort, illness and maybe even death.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></i></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><i><span style="font-family: verdana;">An unwelcome presence had taken up residence in my uterus. When did you arrive? Go! What do you mean no? Just because it's empty does not mean it's available. My red moon cavern with its dry stalactites. Time to move on, polyp flower. Who was he or she or it who introduced us? Who did not belong in there but clung anyway? All of them except the sweet sweet air of the heir.</span></i></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Dry red flower, closing in the open air.</i><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">At first, the gynaecologist suggested keeping an eye on it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This was soon after giving birth 14 years ago.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So we did, regular check-ups and pap smears. Then last year, she let me know that there were a few more fibroids as well as a polyp. She recommended that I get a myomectomy to remove them.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZ-p_8-wIaiJCfYmAdeW6PR7_5mZdFGJBGWKMn4FZ8Heg6EwauV3lEHUXgIDZDH-b7sxO_Ad2W24wtEX-2Egrp2rXFA-0UzyEYVFqjm02Wb9hm7T-JFfo3RmV-og0y8K6KsvlBJ4NNRU/s1001/Art+therapy+1.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1001" data-original-width="945" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEZ-p_8-wIaiJCfYmAdeW6PR7_5mZdFGJBGWKMn4FZ8Heg6EwauV3lEHUXgIDZDH-b7sxO_Ad2W24wtEX-2Egrp2rXFA-0UzyEYVFqjm02Wb9hm7T-JFfo3RmV-og0y8K6KsvlBJ4NNRU/w302-h320/Art+therapy+1.jpeg" width="302" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have never had an operation in all my 50 years and was none too pleased with anyone cutting me open or even going in there to fiddle about. But I trusted her, even though something must have happened to her in the past few years. I saw this bright chirpy doctor dim after an accident she had, then become morose and zombie-like in her treatments of me. I could hardly understand all the hoops she explained to me as every word was given the same low tonal value. Like a murky tickle. But I tried to follow, I jumped through them, got prodded, tested, measured and evaluated for surgery. But at the last moment the receptionists had made an error in our appointments and there was no way to get in touch with her. I got put on her call list but she called me back during dinner with my son, a time I reserve for him. No phones. When I called her back, nothing. They gave me another phone appointment, but she never called. Next in-person appointment they could give me was in three months! I wrote her but the receptionists said it was hospital policy to not deliver anything to doctors. I came back when I knew she would be there, intending to slip it under her door. Her assistant came out, I gave it to her. She went back in then came out and said she had given her the letter. Then nothing.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So grateful to my friend Courtney who held my hand and prodded me when I procrastinated taking the next steps. I highly recommend having a fun cheerleader at this stage!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So I switched doctors to another gyn. At the time, I only wanted female ones. And I liked this one's name. She had four last names all starting with M. Doctora M<span class="s4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; vertical-align: 1px;"><sup>4</sup></span> checked me out and right off the bat recommended a hysterectomy and a date within 21 days. I was stunned and asked for some time to think. She was very perfunctory but felt like a capable person.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I asked online for recommendations for good gyns to get a second opinion. Men this time. The first one, a Spanish doctor with followers and detractors, did a cursory exam leaving me with slathers of gel and told me he wouldn’t recommend it as I was going through menopause and the fibroids, that were being stimulated by my hormones, would eventually go away on their own. Then he told me that my insurance didn’t really pay doctors enough so that was the end of the consult.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The next gyn was a German doctor with a lot of amens from the online community. It took weeks to get an appointment so only saw him on the last day that I could possibly cancel my surgery. Right out of a movie on nazi experimentation. Chalk white skin, totally bald, in a white lab coat and spectacles. His receptionist seemed frightened by her own awe of him. There was something so clinically capable about him that I found myself wanting to be touched by him. It was disturbing. He studied my case before letting me in then did the most thorough examination I have ever had. First, a long chat. Then a hands on and in examination, even with a quick poke in my boohole. I hadn’t been handled by a man in so long that I almost moaned. Then a very precise and detailed sonogram revealed that my fibroids were quite big and getting in the way of my bladder. Then some perfect breast fondling that was over much too quickly. Then we talked some more. He was for the hysterectomy and answered all my questions to my mind’s content.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I left 2 hours later, feeling confident for the next week’s surgery- a laparoscopic hysterectomy via vagina.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Basically, I would simultaneously be giving birth and death to my womb.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDEDqIAAyxz4SQRmmHWedB5uqcdDlm-h3T0IqYfhpOJ65TVgES9vhek_gdlWN8AJ4JAMJ_yNFP-HU9Ik7Mz4FilNJC25sBVgqX-SQU82egPoaXmLGEZOGDo-sOJPJaru3kT5ye34XMts/s1280/Stones+Uterus.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpDEDqIAAyxz4SQRmmHWedB5uqcdDlm-h3T0IqYfhpOJ65TVgES9vhek_gdlWN8AJ4JAMJ_yNFP-HU9Ik7Mz4FilNJC25sBVgqX-SQU82egPoaXmLGEZOGDo-sOJPJaru3kT5ye34XMts/w480-h640/Stones+Uterus.jpeg" width="480" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span><span class="s3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;">PREPARATION: Body, Mind, Paperwork and Soul</span></b></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I tried to have everything set so I would have no worries going into the hysterectomy, and just be able to focus on breathing and trusting.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Medical:</b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Got consultations and opinions from 4 different gynecologists.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The pre-op prep required: MRI, blood tests, cardiology reading, pre-op meeting with anesthesiologist, and a PCR test a day or two before.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Physical</b>:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A few days before: Eating healthier and not having any fiber or dairy, or hard-to-digest foods.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The day before the operation: I just had liquids- juices, smoothies, and broth.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I cleaned and depilated my body and got a brazilian. I had no desire to have some unknown person shave my intimate bits while I was knocked out. And I wanted to minimize any risk for infection. Clean slate.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Also cleaned the house and made myself a fresh bed before going to get operated so I would return to a clean welcoming home.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Emotional</b>:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My excellent friend coached me the whole way- made sure I was getting check-ups, found me people to consult, offered an ear and a ready conversation- all this from half a world away.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I put my house in order. I got everything set up so if there were anything to happen to me, I felt at peace with leaving this world without leaving too much of a mess to those left behind.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I got all my affairs and will in order. Made sure that everybody who I love knew that I love them, without letting them know this could be a final goodbye. No need for overt dramatics.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was important to me not to tell everybody but just the people that I knew would simply support me, not freak out nor project their fears and worries on me. So I did not tell quite a few nervous or passionate people who were close to me. Now I understand why people don't tell their loved ones about things that will be amplified by their reaction to it. Their projection can make it harder to go through something like this in a peaceful way. The personal process needs to be respected. I chose the people that I wanted to know and they were very lovely and responsive. And those few who did freak out at me ¨OMG, I´m so sorry for you!!! Are you scared?!¨, I let them know that I appreciated their concern but it was not helpful. I was looking forward to it and feeling good about it and everything was well prepared. My son was also as calm as I was and we made time to chat and address all his questions beforehand.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Logistically</b>:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A wonderful support team came together:</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Two mamas to take care of my son- bring him to school, watch him over the weekend.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Two workawayers to take care of me during recovery- to take me there and back, check in on me.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The great team from a healthy restaurant, dancers, made incredible recovery food for me.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And three lovely ladies to take over my outdoor and indoor practices while I was out.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Signed up with an online hysterectomy support community to get all the info from people who previously had the experience.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">What I packed:</span></p><ul class="ul1"><li class="li5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">needed: all the paperwork involved and insurance confirmation, id+health card, toothbrush + toothpaste, lip balm, paper tissues, sanitizing gel, reading glasses, eye mask + earplugs, face masks, a soft sleeping gown (not pajamas, although I ended up naked most of the time), slippers, diary + pen, telephone + charger.</span></li><li class="li5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">not needed: clothes for each day (just need one set for arriving and one set for leaving), comforting plush owl (bed was too narrow and it would have fallen off), book (could not focus for more than 5 minutes on text), hairbrush/comb, nappies.</span></li><li class="li5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">what I wish I had brought: throat lozenges for after intubation.</span></li><li class="li5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">do not pack: any valuables.</span></li></ul><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Energetically</b>:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had some consultations with a few healers and witches. I recommend you find ones that work for you energetically to have the full experience. What I describe here was meant specifically for me and does not intend to represent the techniques and wisdom used to arrive at the experiences I had. There is no substitute for the seeking on your own path. These are cursory descriptions to give an idea of what symbolic energies can be in the workings of uterus issues.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Here are two of the encounters I had on my path:</span></p><p class="p8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A Quantic Shaman that I had consulted months before had foreseen that it would not be a single small intervention, but a complete and final operation for that issue. Montse offered to optimize my energy system. She did this by first doing a reading of my holographic information grid, seeing where my chakras were disconnected and/or malfunctioning. She then proceeded to put me through a deep reprogramming of my traumas and removal of those presences in my life who did not necessarily want the best for me but had energetically tied themselves to me. She cleansed my program and I experienced it as the most intense shower of electric blue light I have ever experienced, electric rain like in the Matrix. Then she worked on my spheres, her body emitting unusual sounds - like a bottle being filled up. She invited my inner child back into the altar of the heart. And when she connected my heart up to each chakra, I almost passed out. Then when she reconnected me to source, I felt an incredible delicious blissful rush. In an instant, I went from practically unconscious to feeling totally awake and full of life. She then reconnected me to the earth and sealed my sphere, with a program for maximum regeneration.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The card I pulled out at the end reminded me to open my heart to love. Sure thing!</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">An Eden Energy healer that I consulted online announced that 50 is the perfect age for this change as it is the age called Chiron Return. Chiron is a centaur who represents the wounded healer and a harmonious merging of the wild and civilized. Sandy likened the figure to a Yoda who trains others in the warrior ways of the light side. When I told her that I was doing my op at a clinic called Quiron, she was delighted at the synchronicity. She commented that this is a time when we are naturally growing more receptive towards deeper, psychic dimensions which encompass our soul fields.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I particularly enjoyed her vision of the uterus as a bleeding heart, in that it represents our most sensitive intimate loving part, in essence, it holds the history of our loving. The heart being a symbol of courage, bravery, honor. The bleeding heart includes with that a symbology of sacrifice. And, in my case, sacrificing too much of my sexual energy, somatizing a waste of creative energy in my womb, turning that waste into pockets of fiber. She suggested I offer my symbolic womb as an offering on the altar of love. To not hold onto the life forms I took on in the past.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She recommended creating a new energy womb under the 13 moons following the operation, including dance under full moons since dance is my healing language. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sandy gave me a few energy exercises to help activate and protect the heart and calm my energy.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">She also suggested the second of the following exercises.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Two energy practices that helped the most:<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></b></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>1. A few days before, and before the op, really say goodbye and thank you to the uterus. Energetically, I meditated on connecting all the chakras, then split the 2nd chakra and put them in the ovaries so that it wouldn't be such a shock to the chakra system when my body was cut into and the housing uterus taken out. Basically, a few days before, while doing this, I could feel all the parts of my womb and around it, all practically jumping out of me, as if I was energetically pushing it out. It felt so ready to go.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>2. On the day of, it really helped to calm my nerves to put one hand on my forehead and one hand on the back of my head and just press gently. It helped release the tension and the stress that was building up.</span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Of course, deep breathing helped.</span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And I did my chi gong practice the morning of the op. Very consciously calling in the energies of Gaia to help me through.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had a lot of people also sending me good vibes at that time in the morning, which helped on mental, emotional, psychic levels. Nice to know that people are supporting you energetically when you are incapacitated by general anesthesia.</span></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Also, right before the operation, I created a bubble of energy around me to only let in people who have good intentions. It makes it clear to me what I am inviting on an energetic level. </span></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-l-q6GDbb1gfEhVp3ZZs8kxzYG4LPtqAG0pn5JOHXRwK7Td7OU-Y0Z9Fv843zidSOXGgue6JP5n3sn7sRB-n1kC9VwfTisH5iI7ONPoOdIxEE10KIU5bCdWPSjtMznrr0NdDl5qPE62A/s1280/Clay+fade.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-l-q6GDbb1gfEhVp3ZZs8kxzYG4LPtqAG0pn5JOHXRwK7Td7OU-Y0Z9Fv843zidSOXGgue6JP5n3sn7sRB-n1kC9VwfTisH5iI7ONPoOdIxEE10KIU5bCdWPSjtMznrr0NdDl5qPE62A/w640-h480/Clay+fade.jpeg" width="640" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /><span class="s3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="p6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span class="s3" style="color: #660000; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><b>WEEK 1: Hospital Stay and Home Stay</b></span></span></p><p class="p4" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 12px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Day 1 - What’s Op, doc?</b><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Everything was ready. Woke up at 6.30am. Did my chi gong sequence in the cool clean pure morning air. Felt good and had a <i>Hoka hey</i> attitude.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><i>Hoka hey</i> if I die, and <i>Carpediem</i> if I don’t. Happy to be alive. At peace with the end of this cycle. I was so surprised to feel how detached I was- either way, it works out for me.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Sofia and Luciano came and got us, looking like they were about to rob a bank, both with their balaclavas rolled up onto their heads. Made me smile. My son and I sat in the back. A rare experience for me as the always-my-turn driver. Driving into Palma that early, we hit some traffic and the nerves suddenly hit me. I grabbed my son’s hand and some fear tears escaped my eyes. His got watery and it was reassuring to have a peek at his kind soul. Made me happy.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We drove up to the fancy part of the clinic, where patients can check themselves in like at an airport hotel. They drove off. It was 8am. I got my wristband and room number. In the empty waiting room, I barely had the time to do my energy exercises and send a message to Luciano that I was in room number 311 (a number I was satisfied to receive- <i>Auguri</i>!) When I was whisked into a changing room by a handsome happy bouncy nurse. I was only too happy to comply. He took my bag and put it on the back of the gurney that they asked me to lie on. A bunch of cute guy nurses wheeled me into the pre-op room where a kind nurse lady inserted the needle into my hand for the drip and the anesthesia.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">From that point, I knew there was no return. I just let go, breathed, and mustered my faith in the people there and the process. The nurse told me not to worry if I got a bit dizzy. I was sort of looking forward to some fun hi-grade drugs so I was like: Yeah! Bring it on!!</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">They must have wheeled me into the operation room. One of the cute guy nurses started joking with me about my tattoos and showing me his. Then the older Argentinian anaesthesiologist said in a low voice: “We will no longerrr be talking about tattoos.”<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRbE7DPKpM__V0ziXgV12as9PYoS8Nr_vrK_-EErQSEUpdnRE2_SKTB9MXvwwvRUp-lu6xJ7Qe5L_TSdQMPMe1CqRTALi1kKPlhRQcjs3vsE5KUlHUCehyphenhyphenBkG4eXs7Haf6SHRcRoHzlA/s1280/Hosp+me.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="962" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSRbE7DPKpM__V0ziXgV12as9PYoS8Nr_vrK_-EErQSEUpdnRE2_SKTB9MXvwwvRUp-lu6xJ7Qe5L_TSdQMPMe1CqRTALi1kKPlhRQcjs3vsE5KUlHUCehyphenhyphenBkG4eXs7Haf6SHRcRoHzlA/w150-h200/Hosp+me.jpeg" width="150" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></div><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Next thing I knew, the doctor was in my face telling me it all went well.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I focused on the clock on the wall and saw it was 11:30am.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">¨<i>Milk of Amnesia¨</i>, my craniosacral friend had commented, ¨ where does the soul go when awareness is shut down? ¨</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I waved my arms about like a drunkard and asked the doctor to show me my uterus. She showed me a picture. It looked like a bloody heart. “I want it.” I slurred out, “send to my phone.” “I’ll come to see you tomorrow” she reassured me. The wheeling to my room was more blur. Part of me trying to think of something to say to the nurse in the elevator. Part of me trying to figure out why I felt that need. Then I was slid off a metal tray onto my bed, like a pizza hot out of the oven. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdZbiTLgsbiqJHhzOjmWtl20y929-NSNQD0IYSEaayIWloJeHDGpYGsc7Wu2_mOVYspyOGXIvv3ohX0UIZ7U6xfapmxa5dK4kD3C0lkUkAkGvkrqPL5UfQj8PUcdWZpGeyS4khvHrH-mA/s1280/Hosp+TV.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdZbiTLgsbiqJHhzOjmWtl20y929-NSNQD0IYSEaayIWloJeHDGpYGsc7Wu2_mOVYspyOGXIvv3ohX0UIZ7U6xfapmxa5dK4kD3C0lkUkAkGvkrqPL5UfQj8PUcdWZpGeyS4khvHrH-mA/w150-h200/Hosp+TV.jpeg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">My room was a single room with a great view, a TV I could not figure out, and a peaceful grey room tone, appeasing. Many remotes at hand, for the bed, the call button, the TV that I was happy not to figure out and never reported, wondering how many before me came to the same conclusion. I had just removed crap from my body- why fill it up so quickly with more crap?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YiOFCdCElcY3T1v8hhTziF01sG-vGqZr9jYZz55o8i6YRcGUpuIoct-3wX3F2Mb2ZrA73kyR1J86VGqXnuzaYlHlmtV61Pi_MeyFpd0D4CRWjhHwajhXUVQNItLUpSmsYFuEOjfeAcs/s1195/Hosp+Window.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="868" data-original-width="1195" height="290" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4YiOFCdCElcY3T1v8hhTziF01sG-vGqZr9jYZz55o8i6YRcGUpuIoct-3wX3F2Mb2ZrA73kyR1J86VGqXnuzaYlHlmtV61Pi_MeyFpd0D4CRWjhHwajhXUVQNItLUpSmsYFuEOjfeAcs/w400-h290/Hosp+Window.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDPFaRH-tl_vYIg0_xqvk1Qt-AhlApT6GN0vM6MAsQPA2aPoEmGA0vm8AeURzNb_MkhKA97N5HyqI0kLh_j-WIeIJyxjoEJovANEK_IwOY2ATIVPZHy4fFuFks6UyYmocRvzdz2qTzdcY/s1124/Hosp+urine+sac.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1124" data-original-width="845" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDPFaRH-tl_vYIg0_xqvk1Qt-AhlApT6GN0vM6MAsQPA2aPoEmGA0vm8AeURzNb_MkhKA97N5HyqI0kLh_j-WIeIJyxjoEJovANEK_IwOY2ATIVPZHy4fFuFks6UyYmocRvzdz2qTzdcY/w151-h200/Hosp+urine+sac.jpeg" width="151" /></a></div></div><br /><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">They must have put a catheter in me during the operation. That was the most uncomfortable part of my bedrest in the hospital.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I kept on falling asleep, waking when nurses would tend to me, then floating off again. It was worrying me how there were air bubbles in the IV feeds, isn’t that supposed to be dangerous to get air in the bloodstream?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My throat was hurting because they must have put me on ventilator. But they wouldn’t let me drink anything until 7pm. That was a bit difficult. They should have at least let me wet my throat or give me something for it. I recommend asking your doctor if you can bring some throat lozenges. But the rawness went away after a day.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">That night, around 8pm, they gave me a gross broth and fruit. I ate the pear. More sleeping and waking with the tempo of the nurses. It was amazing how different our tempos were. The nurses and doctors seemed to be in permanent fast forward and I was going in slow motion. No remote for that so sometimes we had a hard time understanding each other. They spoke too quickly for me and I was too indistinct.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 2 - Oy Vey, my poor back</span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBhEAwBnaEvlljCZT4If7v57k3Mriml5cqFYHwXAepjLIAVqqFEAiiAkro7Ntv_xf7uf-bCu-mMqFItPhBT6Qsv9t36eM3eYlkK0lVzzH-Hkj0qR3D2Tr1F3OlRL2B3zQ3HCwjpW7wAOM/s1280/Hosp+Remote.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBhEAwBnaEvlljCZT4If7v57k3Mriml5cqFYHwXAepjLIAVqqFEAiiAkro7Ntv_xf7uf-bCu-mMqFItPhBT6Qsv9t36eM3eYlkK0lVzzH-Hkj0qR3D2Tr1F3OlRL2B3zQ3HCwjpW7wAOM/w138-h244/Hosp+Remote.jpeg" width="138" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">My back was really hurting. My bum was not happy to be lying down for this long but luckily they removed the catheter sometime in the afternoon and I could start to walk around a bit after. The removal was rather weird and rather uncomfortable but bearable. Then they took out gauze from my vaginal cavity. What I thought was a bit of stuffing turned out to be an interminable spiral they pulled out. The two lovely ladies joked and were very kind to me as they pulled it all out. Very weird to watch as if they were merrily pulling out my intestines but only the last part was truly uncomfortable as the last of the gauze was unstuck, slightly pulling at my insides. But then I was free to get up which I couldn’t wait to do. My under-bum pad was full of spilled urine and my butt was all itchy from it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">After an hour of being overwhelmed by irritation, I called the nurse to come help me up. She checked on my dizziness levels as I did so. First sitting, she had me look up at the ceiling. Then standing and tentative steps all good. I expected my womb-tomb to buck but nothing. I was warned that peeing would be agony by online bloggers but I just relaxed into it breathing and, after a first little wriggling pain, it was fine from then on. The nurse seemed pleased with me. I felt like a toddler who had done good at the potty.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then I gave myself a Russian bath- a few wet towels- which felt miraculous on my skin.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I felt surprisingly good. Where was the agony?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimM3-j_2R8wG7UrF3BsgVyLHTBBXg6A6kGuOu5y-LhUY0keu7ihHo5yuhE4V7vQLj5gqbG3wL1jCmshJguzc42THwHKvHpbI-IY-CqmadpNHnNN2SfUzzuZSum1hgC6wi6HALRmdNA0RA/s1280/Hosp+bfast.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimM3-j_2R8wG7UrF3BsgVyLHTBBXg6A6kGuOu5y-LhUY0keu7ihHo5yuhE4V7vQLj5gqbG3wL1jCmshJguzc42THwHKvHpbI-IY-CqmadpNHnNN2SfUzzuZSum1hgC6wi6HALRmdNA0RA/w200-h150/Hosp+bfast.jpeg" width="200" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">They gave me <i>pa amb oli</i> for breakfast. Lunch was like: what? This is a hospital?! It was a huge plate of macaroni and cheese AND <i>croquetas</i> AND steamed nightshade vegetables - all heavy, fried, and hard to digest but all yummy and hard to resist. I ate it all. Maybe not such a good idea.</span><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">That day was smaller cycles of peeing, sleeping, and watching videos. All to the rhythm of when the IV painkillers were delivered. I could feel at the end of the 4-5 hours I was starting to look forward to them. Not so much because I was in pain but just to ease the level of discomfort. I tried to do some reading but had a hard time focusing.</span><span class="Apple-converted-space" style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhda8Kf7yY8wQRXzJbHeVbFJwFZfaRLphb13_hGw8RMucuUf1OeqLSLYYTL2fpKueoK0t5hlTO5S1KBkm72Lq1bFPjhOCX_I9cOLT7U2oECptGphyphenhyphenX32A_9vZFYL7CNRJXA-a9v2zHcxlk/s1280/Hosp+food.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhda8Kf7yY8wQRXzJbHeVbFJwFZfaRLphb13_hGw8RMucuUf1OeqLSLYYTL2fpKueoK0t5hlTO5S1KBkm72Lq1bFPjhOCX_I9cOLT7U2oECptGphyphenhyphenX32A_9vZFYL7CNRJXA-a9v2zHcxlk/s320/Hosp+food.jpeg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">At some point in the afternoon, Dra.M<span class="s5" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"><sup>4</sup></span> came by to check on me. She gave me my picture via airdrop, which I taught her to use. She showed me the “big potato”, as she called it, and let me know there were quite a few. They would do a pathology examination and let me know the results at my one month check-up. She told me the potatoes looked benign and the operation went well and spoke so fast it was hard for me to follow and ask all my questions. But one of them was: what is in the place of the uterus now? The doctor explained that basically the intestines had dropped down and were now on top of the vaginal cavern (no longer a canal!). It was a bit hard for me to wrap my head around it- were my intestines no longer supported? Were they unraveling? Are the ovaries floating amidst intestines? Just trying to visualize how things had moved around was doing my head in a bit. She told me I could be discharged but recommended I stay until the next day until breakfast.</span><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Normally, I would have facilitated a class that day and as my body was in agony from not moving, I decided to dance a short 10-minute wave. Slow gentle subtle moving felt really nice.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then I found it hard sleeping from so much resting so I did some binaural brain sync which helped my brain waves to submerge again into sleep.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 3 - Home Again, Home Again, Fly Away Home!!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qjj5R8fTDieIFIRwi5a9Otpid7bd9AtNnQAckvitIkc32onxpdMWNiQZ6AbQlCYThw3tXPVVz-xiZP83tawf8OX7F2i4_S126LUlEdq2pAI5RKSqMaAOkIdDuxz4RQkYMKm7OA3ITy4/s1041/Hosp+me+in+bed.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1041" data-original-width="718" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-qjj5R8fTDieIFIRwi5a9Otpid7bd9AtNnQAckvitIkc32onxpdMWNiQZ6AbQlCYThw3tXPVVz-xiZP83tawf8OX7F2i4_S126LUlEdq2pAI5RKSqMaAOkIdDuxz4RQkYMKm7OA3ITy4/s320/Hosp+me+in+bed.jpeg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">That morning I was really done with the IV. I couldn’t wait to get it out. Every time they changed a bag I could feel the intense pressure of the liquid being pumped into my veins. Especially the painkillers which they must keep in a fridge because I would feel the cold enter my system. Interesting but unnerving, adding to my concern about air bubbles.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">But, on the whole, nothing felt really painful. Nothing scary or agonizing. All the nurses did a great job and were really kind in the way Spanish people can be nice, calling me <i>Corazón</i> and <i>Cariño</i> and <i>Reina</i>, and answered when I needed them. Lovely people. I want to think of a way to thank them.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I wanted to poop before leaving to make sure it went well as I was also sketched by onliners that it would be horrible. But I just slowly gyrated my butt around a bit to help it out. It wasn’t too scary. I expected it to be a lot worse, again just a sense of oddness, new sensations. So yea, again, be aware of all those fear-mongers out there. I am sure there are many people who experience deep pain when moving their bowels after such an operation but why say that is what will happen for sure and implant that fearful programming when it is just one experience among many?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Another resident doctor came by to give me my discharge papers and a nurse came in to remove my IV and said I could leave without notice.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My mother wanted me to stay another night in case, but I felt great and just wanted to be home and have some fresh air. I was ready to go, go, go by the time breakfast rolled around. I called Luciano and Sofia to come get me. We did two errands - pharmacy for painkillers and mail pick-up. It was the first time I was sitting at 90degrees which felt ok but after 20 minutes I laid down in the back seat just in case. I felt like a child in the back of the car, watching the palm trees go by, listening to adults chat in the background.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Got home and saw all the lovely food waiting for me in the fridge. Ruth had come in the meantime of my hospitalization, left some food in the fridge and all the rest in the freezer. Her food is so exquisite that I had to taste some. I had paid for the ingredients but the 2 “mommy in a spoon” pumpkin/turmeric soups, the 2 “daddy does yoga” beetroot/caraway soups, the 2 crunchy crust quiches- 1 of cauliflower and 1 spinach/feta-, the divine lemon/almond cake, and 2 bean dishes would have cost me at least double at their restaurant. As soon as I tasted it, I knew I would heal even faster.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I set a few things up and had a nap. Had a bit too much of the yummy quiche so had some stomach discomfort.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Had a nice time that night, a little herbal smoke under the moon to enhance the immersion into reweaving a new energetic womb based on intuition, bravery and connection with Gaia.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE79BM6L6TgQHsg_1zCmcOvJoyuI8bwUCjpmez06FF75MVYgbDDL-sFrEfMs6cBPxYM7mPvvCJj__qcp4SdLBC5mozSjOqoyBU6H6JsFc3gD6i-0PMazCcVpCQ8sPNcqcXzQN1MD89mc8/s1280/Card+Gaia.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgE79BM6L6TgQHsg_1zCmcOvJoyuI8bwUCjpmez06FF75MVYgbDDL-sFrEfMs6cBPxYM7mPvvCJj__qcp4SdLBC5mozSjOqoyBU6H6JsFc3gD6i-0PMazCcVpCQ8sPNcqcXzQN1MD89mc8/s320/Card+Gaia.jpeg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Felt really delightful and relaxing. Not something I do often, once or twice a month, so I enjoy it when I do. If I do it more than that, it messes with my energy- lowering it and sapping my motivation, irritating. But it is a much better high for me than alcohol which just depresses me.</span><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 4 - Pumpkin O Pumpkin!</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Had some of the pumpkin soup for breakfast. Amazing, my body reacted to it as if it were a life elixir - real medicine.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Had a lovely shower, changed the top layer of my bandages, disinfected with mercurochrome, pooped again easier, and ready to get back to business. I was forcing myself to take times off and lie in bed. Did some phone business, setting up the week.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My son is with friends. Lu+Sofia nearby but at home, it’s just me and the animals and the rain. Not too hot which is also nice. I can get cozy!</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So far so good.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I’m recording this because I read a lot of scary stories and I want to record a story that is not so scary. We’ll see how it pans out. <i>Tfou tfou tfou.</i></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I think the good preparation, good support system, clearing your schedule and lots of self-care ahead of time can really make a difference.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 5 - Meh-day</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A Monday. My son was not feeling well and I had to figure out how to get him home. But we figured it out after various calls and he got back and we just chilled out all day. I had told him previously that, since his dad was also under bed rest for an accident, I would send a note to school saying his week may be irregular and I also let him know he could stay home one day. So I think he took advantage of that because nothing in particular seemed to be wrong with him. Maybe he just wanted to be home and see what was up with me as I’ve never really been ill before.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hard not to eat too much with all this sitting around but at least I’m eating healthy.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Changed top layer of bandages and disinfected again.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 6 - Shape-Shifting</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEq7N8bzc4tUNLJPa6osIOpJQVhya1Eo36QQ6oZYwKCxb0-dPTr7yof-OIzKEsqUv5Iz11AvYMYRbd8U330X4MGWQmTQ4BvECgP2jIqDZcKzOHBf69xYqdL4__OmCH17BIzANAnJYJFxo/s1280/Clay+fade4.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEq7N8bzc4tUNLJPa6osIOpJQVhya1Eo36QQ6oZYwKCxb0-dPTr7yof-OIzKEsqUv5Iz11AvYMYRbd8U330X4MGWQmTQ4BvECgP2jIqDZcKzOHBf69xYqdL4__OmCH17BIzANAnJYJFxo/s320/Clay+fade4.jpeg" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I decided to stop taking painkillers. I had gotten into the meds rhythm after the hospital, alternating ibuprofen anti-inflammatory and paracetamol every 4 hours. And it worked out fine. I didn’t feel any pain before except in the shoulders and feet so I lowered it to taking one ibuprofen whenever I felt any swelling in my sensitive heel.</span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I also decided to start driving short distances.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">What helps the most these days is to keep shifting positions, from standing and walking to doing a few little chores, to then sitting and doing some desk work and resting. To keep alternating because I feel it is important for the body to heal in different positions, to keep it somewhat flexible in its new shaping. Also, the alternating 20 minutes suited my busy nature.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Disinfected but did not put a new top layer of bandages. They had said to do it for 3 days only and had given me the bandages for it. Tried not to think of myself suddenly opening and bleeding out.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 7 - Worldwide Womb Blessing</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I can feel my scars. A tugging, not painful, just weird. I decided to take off my bandages on the three holes made over my ovaries and on the bottom edge of my belly button. They had thankfully not made a hole in the tattoo over my womb- a drawing by my son of me riding a dolphin saying: “weeeeee!!!” I wonder what the nurses said when they discovered that one. Hehe. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCKrh7ubC6GaogMFryUKfCz2g07IiVstO33RqmdtRLD__4Oczozq_NrLM6JUXDNrmmI4vXi9kaUrbUzLhfA0vdou5csVzfpN7lZFy3FFqgb47LqH0BlzszGyHSfMPX958o0vvFzeY53w/s1106/Belly+bandaids.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="703" data-original-width="1106" height="254" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTCKrh7ubC6GaogMFryUKfCz2g07IiVstO33RqmdtRLD__4Oczozq_NrLM6JUXDNrmmI4vXi9kaUrbUzLhfA0vdou5csVzfpN7lZFy3FFqgb47LqH0BlzszGyHSfMPX958o0vvFzeY53w/w400-h254/Belly+bandaids.jpeg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So I decided to remove the bottom layer of bandages, as I had been instructed to anyway. Incredibly, it was all healed as if there had just been a little puncture wound. The one on my belly button still had a scab but as small as a small keyhole.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I am in awe of the surgeon’s work and of how efficiently my body has healed itself.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Full moon. Full-on blood moon eclipse. People dying. Literally. Some of the elders of our village have died this week. Jackie - a powerful woman. Arturo - a painter who loved women. He died in the middle of the full bloody eclipse. That stirred up some things for me. I really admired his work and when I was 16 he took advantage of that. Gave me this beautiful ring he made then tried it on with me. I let him kiss me but that was it. Later on at 26, I put him in my movie which had a bit of a revenge scene in it. So we were even. I did wear the ring every day for the rest of my life as it represented my dream.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It made me reflect on all these complicated sexual energies that I allowed and invited into my life.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today there was a worldwide womb blessing so Sofia and I participated in that- a 20-minute meditation with intention. It was good to take some time aside to put my intention in weaving new energy into my new ¨womb¨. Really felt the tingling afterward which felt so good, like I could feel acceleration in my healing innards by meditating on it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Then Sofia and I shared our experiences and she told me about her experience with her reproductive system and how it can be such a good experience to get such a thing removed if that’s what you feel you want deep down and it feels right.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Did an art therapy session with Olga. She is so patient and accepting of me that I feel I can open up easily with her, without the sensation of being personally judged. During my meditation earlier, I had a vision of a seed in my womb-space filling its turquoise tendrils of creative energy from the full moon energy. I tried to paint it during the proposed expressive mandala exercise. I got frustrated with not being able to make something beautiful. I only enjoyed making the insignificant glyphs. The rest was effort and not sure what the Taurus horns are all about.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyNVLpgPzznVhHyvdAy41SCv3BOyzF4PKTKYSo9lcLDDC5fTp_8tk8kDJyFT34vc6-35TlvpfKdMbmwXroXOApD-wOqO7-auGOXHC4125jKFNyyPeAqVawxekMF4YKolA-2dcm2YWXQw/s2048/Art+mandala+moon.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1896" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyNVLpgPzznVhHyvdAy41SCv3BOyzF4PKTKYSo9lcLDDC5fTp_8tk8kDJyFT34vc6-35TlvpfKdMbmwXroXOApD-wOqO7-auGOXHC4125jKFNyyPeAqVawxekMF4YKolA-2dcm2YWXQw/s320/Art+mandala+moon.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hard time sleeping. Probably that moon. And…my hot flashes have returned. So, as promised, my ovaries are still doing their hormonal thing.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="color: #783f04; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><span class="s6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;">WEEK 2: No, No Stay! Energy a Go-go!!</span></b></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b>Day 8</b> <b>- Tea for Two</b></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Been a week since I was operated on.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have so much energy now that I keep having to slow myself down. Keep on forcing myself to change positions so I have to lie down for a part of each hour.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Have had not black tea or coffee since the operation and am enjoying not pushing nor pulling my energy around, just going along with it.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Keeping up the peppermint tea to help with the supposed gas problem. I say supposed because it was foretold by the websites but I do not really notice much change. My belly was swollen and gassy before and it still is. But actually less as I am watching what I eat more carefully. The bean dish I asked for was definitely not a good idea after this operation. The reason women supposedly get gassy after an H is that they pump your belly with some gas to have room to move when operating inside.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Cleaning house since I have a guest. Also, Howard has offered to give me a craniosacral session and I want to change my sweaty sheets. Howard arrives and is surprised to see me up and about. I’m still arranging the house as he comes in. I can feel my manic energy. So can he. After a tea and a chat, he gives me a session.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWYxikrtRyYIf6onq8ZE3fGctmtZdVd_wIR8TBdLsfJP4fTZOiVgZm0recg8d85-bME263dW2zk_l6R5DDHiG5XlNQ7sDScn36_ZqRm4b5OtuWRF7O59b-C_GyDxmXb06dWrrsYENVpeA/s1280/Takin+it+easy.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1036" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWYxikrtRyYIf6onq8ZE3fGctmtZdVd_wIR8TBdLsfJP4fTZOiVgZm0recg8d85-bME263dW2zk_l6R5DDHiG5XlNQ7sDScn36_ZqRm4b5OtuWRF7O59b-C_GyDxmXb06dWrrsYENVpeA/s320/Takin+it+easy.jpeg" /></a></div></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I lie diagonally on my bed with my head where my feet usually are. He sits on a stool by my head and tells me to relax into the dream world. Not an easy task to do as my whole system is so active. He barely touches me, placing his hands around my head and shoulders. I try different visualizations to calm my racing thoughts. Eventually, I settle back into this week’s intention: hooking my 2nd chakra back into my energy system. I visualize each chakra: root chakra starting at the base of my spine radiating a red cone out until the edges encompass both feet. Belly chakra a roiling of molten gold and silver. Solar plexus spiraling in and out in lemon yellow pulses. Heart space pumping out vines of green vitality to hold me and all those I cherish. Throat chakra cutting into the eternal silence with a shiny electric turquoise sawblade singing beyond human hearing. 3rd eye seeing for the womb, extending its smoky indigo feelers of intuition. A purple crystal crown on my new queen body reaching up its cone from the top of my head into the realm of the higher self.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Howard suddenly stops and I can hear in my head: “ That’s enough for now.” Later when I ask him what he did, he tells me he didn’t need to add much, more like take away. True, I could feel my tiredness, less manic.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We join our online writer’s group and work on our books.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Ready to sleep after.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 9 - Divine Dancing and Profane Pleasures</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I can feel I pushed it with the cleaning yesterday. A bit tired. So I rest all day to conserve energy for tonight’s dance. Sofia + Lu help me set it all up. It was soothing to work together and to not do it all myself for a change. It all came together. Christine also helped with kids and dogs. I did a minimal amount of physical effort.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I held the first part for an hour - stretching- and had invited Sofia to do the second part of the session - intention. I still kept rotating between the three positions and enjoyed not being able to move too much so I could just pay attention to what was going on at the dance floor.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Great to have Sofia take care of the second hour. At first, I was a bit concerned because we hadn’t really coordinated our cues and was unsure about what she was doing. Again the difference between expectation and meeting the moment. Eventually, we managed to meet at the mike and I let go of trying to facilitate the situation. Then I could just relax and enjoy moving a little, sitting in the sun, taking the time to connect with other dancers. When we circled up at the end to heighten the energy cone and devotion to the mystery in each person, I chose not to go in the center which felt like the right call. I am creating my own new inner space for Source. Too fresh to twine yet. Others later agreed. We<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>shared a lovely potluck dinner. Then Christine prompted me to remember I may be tired. I was and asked everyone to leave which they did with much understanding, all the while helping to clean up.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The outdoor space felt so nice after all that heightened energy that I just sat out there for a bit that night and soaked it in.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSRlEWFB_qNiiDjfO0XRulOvCoK9d9EXDGJACJ3QITbeWlCkDuUlXkIhfDvJjK8tXDXNSclr92jaiupJlS0HO0oHsziLyfhhIFzdxrx_p9ets6NswvG1pIzkF6h05mNQ9PKwba4cKYjc/s1025/Flowers+de+maman.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1025" data-original-width="903" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipSRlEWFB_qNiiDjfO0XRulOvCoK9d9EXDGJACJ3QITbeWlCkDuUlXkIhfDvJjK8tXDXNSclr92jaiupJlS0HO0oHsziLyfhhIFzdxrx_p9ets6NswvG1pIzkF6h05mNQ9PKwba4cKYjc/w184-h208/Flowers+de+maman.jpeg" width="184" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">My mother had asked my son to get me a large bouquet of pinkish lilies. I had put the bouquet out by the dance floor. A dancer asked me what happened- did someone die? During the session, I kept coming back to that comment. This person always comes up to me with non-sequiturs but this time it reverberated. During the dance I realized that, yes, part of me had died. A very important part of me. More than cutting hair, this part of me will not grow back. So I thought maybe I should be mourning that part of me that has died but that is not the way I am feeling. I’m not feeling mournful. I’m feeling quite celebratory. Perhaps that is because that part that usually represents life had turned into a part that represented death instead. Getting rid of it allowed me to create a new space for life.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I was concerned about how the op would affect my orgasms so I tried some self-pleasuring. Nothing inserted as <i>ADP</i> and baths are strictly <i>verboten</i>. It took a bit longer than usual but in the end, all was well in my well. (Hehe, couldn’t resist the mom joke.) Still learning about my new body and trying to find a new name for it all down there. No longer a love canal or time tunnel, a wishing well? A sneaky sock? Titillating tube? Alleyway to Aleluya? Built-in contraceptive enclosure? I think I like well enough for now. (Haha, I really crack myself up.) The well well well! (Ok, I´ll stop.)</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 10 - Adhering to Myself, Literally<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZvj3SiRbrow9XAuguDG7JCsSLyEan6-mrWQyAhd9XZeqDcrBNYx5ZqQDQLC387O488GFsYN7ScObMbMrBhEUpo7SUfKFozHRgpVaiFCCwJc41Le2tPGWCvsw7bnYH5Z_gQvebDWjRQM/s1280/Palimpseste.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqZvj3SiRbrow9XAuguDG7JCsSLyEan6-mrWQyAhd9XZeqDcrBNYx5ZqQDQLC387O488GFsYN7ScObMbMrBhEUpo7SUfKFozHRgpVaiFCCwJc41Le2tPGWCvsw7bnYH5Z_gQvebDWjRQM/w301-h226/Palimpseste.jpeg" width="301" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I spent the day in bed, worrying a little bit because I was reading about adhesions- when you don’t stay still long enough, the inside parts of the body that are healing can stick together in the wrong way. It got me concerned and almost canceled the activity I had planned on the next day but I couldn’t because it was just too important to me and I felt I could manage the damage. Sure sounds stupid writing it out but the group that I created and that was meeting is literally a core reason for my existence at the moment. So on a soul level, I feel I need it. Hmmm. Maybe body is priority at the moment, eh?</span><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 11 - If assholes could drive, this place would be a parking lot</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today is our monthly meeting for our teen group. Every month we do a different psychosocial activity with 9 teens, and with whatever mentors have time to show up. Luckily today, we were four adults so all I had to do was drive, pay, chat, lounge around under a shady tree and drive back.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We picked up one of the teens and drove 40 minutes to a curious place full of outdoor sculptures and installations, a faux Moorish castle, a gorgeous rose garden, a giant stone circle next to a 3-story high metal octopus, an underground contemporary art bunker, and another bunker dedicated to the art made for dead children. We didn't go visit that one as it gives me the creeps even though the macabre paintings are high-quality niche.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Matthew took care of holding the space and had the teens go off on photo quests. Wanting to participate, I did get up and lie back down several times to see what they were up to. It was all very easy-going. Two of the more intense teens were not there and we had just the right amount of space at our picnic table for us all to fit and chat and show our pictures. It did do my soul good to be with everyone. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzxUO1OSblOVje9Qffm5U2MPyV4w6InNMu2AQWbS4vwFb5LzfAaB_ZukjiidSHo21KlYonZwjEqMXVkg-jeQ7RVd_L6VeZ7UL4ycQ1rg8wDhliUtioU0xU78UStNIbD172cs2jDQJD_6I/s1280/Scarified+sclupture.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzxUO1OSblOVje9Qffm5U2MPyV4w6InNMu2AQWbS4vwFb5LzfAaB_ZukjiidSHo21KlYonZwjEqMXVkg-jeQ7RVd_L6VeZ7UL4ycQ1rg8wDhliUtioU0xU78UStNIbD172cs2jDQJD_6I/w300-h400/Scarified+sclupture.jpeg" width="300" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">The owners of the foundation, whom I´ve known since I was a child, came by in their golf cart to greet us. They had given me and my son free entrance. I had all the kids applaud them for their amazing place. Then the man asked me if I had been vaccinated yet, I said no. He told me, in front of everyone not to be an asshole and do it. He may be 91 but after a lifetime of his bullying attitude towards me and basically everyone except his wife, I decided to talk back and tell him that I may be an asshole but so was he for treating everyone as assholes. It was all done with smiles but I can’t help but wonder what makes him think it’s okay to treat people like that, especially in front of young teenagers. His directors and assistants never last for more than a year or two. And despite his extraordinary life achievements, everyone knows he’s a jerk and an art simulator. His lovely wife balances him out and he continues to wield pugnacious power.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">His attitude is definitely not convincing to me. I need to understand and learn before I can move forward with this decision but bullies like him make me want to not do it.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">In the end, the hardest was being cursed at, driving that long, and being in that position of responsibility. I should have asked someone else to drive. That would have been the best compromise.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 12 - Do The Thing</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Drove to Palma for my son’s dentist appointment which we had been waiting for a month and a half, even before I knew I would have my op. Then got home and decided that I have to completely stop and let my body do its thing. It causes my body more pain to not move around, to not move muscles - my back and neck are hurting, my arms are sore, my heel is still hurting. It has not gotten better with less usage. I have come up with the solution to get a masseuse to come around. If I can’t move my muscles, at least get someone else to move them for me. Maybe that will help relieve some of those aches. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYOSTF_esnKEhBeIMSZm6pUo578MfO6f3l5Bi54F6DH_AkDEB01njVnbniNsJ_oyFC1LB-9qTP2WGrnHQpbvBx1LHKX1xpmlcfq-8T5tDrTkONoNgh2Bojb4CzjB3pOrmvD6P_PMvTsI/s1280/Lazy+Pie.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="963" data-original-width="1280" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijYOSTF_esnKEhBeIMSZm6pUo578MfO6f3l5Bi54F6DH_AkDEB01njVnbniNsJ_oyFC1LB-9qTP2WGrnHQpbvBx1LHKX1xpmlcfq-8T5tDrTkONoNgh2Bojb4CzjB3pOrmvD6P_PMvTsI/w400-h301/Lazy+Pie.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I’m still not clear as to what is the best position to be resting in so every hour or so, I just change position. It was not made clear to me what is the best position for the womb-less space to heal. It is probably not about position, but about speed and effort which need to be slow and minimal.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><br /><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Also, I had lost 4-5kilos in the process but am gaining it back again by resting so dialing back the amounts I eat as am less hungry anyway. If my eating habits and my womb were both linked to my actions around intimacy, then it follows that getting the uterus out would affect my eating in some way. I thought I would be even more needy of food but actually am feeling less.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Feeling relieved in general, as if I have had a great detox from the big removal, all the flushing out by the serums, and all the great food. A true reset in my eating and self-pleasuring systems.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">I can’t wait to start exercising again. I fantasize about swimming and biking rather than other more typical fantasies. When I was young, I had zero interest in exercising. I just liked to use my body. Like for walking to town. I had no problems walking an hour to town or swimming all day or dancing all night but I didn’t want to do it as exercise. I thought exercising was stupid- you get exercise along the way of living your life fully. But I guess that is not the way of the modern world. Now I crave exercising. I just want to swim laps for the whole summer.</span><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 13 - Impregnated?</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Had a little bit of bleeding today, a few drops. Not sure what that is about since I had not had any before today. Maybe I shouldn't have thrown out all my washable pads. (Looked it up: can be a bit of bleeding when the inner dissolvable stitches fall out.)</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhv9UcVg7WMMaUPuOERhv8XQusLl2IeK8HrFq61KKRnCc7iq_8ES4_HziX_RZ4V-E5wwPOGiaTJw1Oj9WZgLeOmxIv4I2h_MljxqjFqND43PONFThqvBpFXOfwl58REB32zgQgm1GRYw/s949/Art+Mandala+new+being.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="714" data-original-width="949" height="301" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEhv9UcVg7WMMaUPuOERhv8XQusLl2IeK8HrFq61KKRnCc7iq_8ES4_HziX_RZ4V-E5wwPOGiaTJw1Oj9WZgLeOmxIv4I2h_MljxqjFqND43PONFThqvBpFXOfwl58REB32zgQgm1GRYw/w400-h301/Art+Mandala+new+being.jpeg" width="400" /></a>I have barely moved these past two days compared to previously. I have a pinchy feeling around the side scars and a sharp sensation across my abdomen whenever I get up. And then it goes away after 10-15 seconds.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Right now, it kind of feels like I’m pregnant. I had the same strange roiling in my gut, almost eerie feeling like there is another being taking up residence inside. Yesterday, I did draw for the evolutive expressive mandala that I have been working on with Olga. Inspired by the oracle card I had pulled- The Hidden Path. What came out of the drawing was the Secret Being. I wonder what kind of being is starting to be in there.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><span class="s6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;">WEEK 3: Trying on New Shapes</span></b></span></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 14/15 - Taking the Shape of a Queen</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Feels like 3 weeks have passed not two. So much has happened and so much has not happened. For the last five days I have forced myself to stay still in bed. The first few days I had the pinching in my abdomen when I would move. Today I have barely felt it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK0zNvTOXjmeh9kselv2FWgnPxHMvjJM7Z6ZxDlYgGLxH0mBk7PyXK4bCjxNZ6qlXaqawJBZBfZxy_owVF99O9LIdZcNJFOUcLMsa8EvptB7tcAnfSRZJXvjiddWZXtvyMfV9-MuT7azo/s1280/Laying+around+dog.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="1280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgK0zNvTOXjmeh9kselv2FWgnPxHMvjJM7Z6ZxDlYgGLxH0mBk7PyXK4bCjxNZ6qlXaqawJBZBfZxy_owVF99O9LIdZcNJFOUcLMsa8EvptB7tcAnfSRZJXvjiddWZXtvyMfV9-MuT7azo/s320/Laying+around+dog.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">My feeling is that for the first week, everything is pretty liquid and mobile within the operated space. And with the removal of the blockage, all the energy was set loose and running fluid and juicy through my channels. The last week, it felt more like soft bits were setting, taking their places and more permanent shapes within the gut puzzle. A bit more dense and solid inside. So sensing I have to stay still so it can all come together smoothly without my actions to tear at the delicate weave of healing.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Little movement has been my objective this week but it has also compacted my energy quite a bit. My muscles feel sore from not moving, especially in my shoulders and feet. I learned that the surgeons have their patients in a diagonal inversion so all the guts will pile towards the head, giving them freer access to operating around the uterus without accidentally damaging nearby intestines. So it is supposedly common to have shoulder pain from having been in the position.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">But today I had a wonderful masseuse come over. It was amaaazing. Laya made me feel like a queen! At 50, with the passage of menopause, I had been told women can choose to go from mother/nurturer to queen before settling into crone. I very much feel like owning that role at the moment. After all the adventures and learnings of youth, the efforts and achievements of motherhood, and in my career, I am now ready to be proud, to gather, to lead, to teach, to delegate, and create a healthy vital reality for my community. So all this was present in my awareness as I received this royal, respectful, powerful, honoring massage. It made me meditate on what kind of queen do I want to be as I enter my fifties and a different kind of power and empowerment is taking root inside of me.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Afterward, as I was cooking some lovely healthy food, I started singing and it was an amazing impressive song that just flowed out of me. Of course, I thought I should be recording this or writing it down. But then I thought the best audience I could possibly ask for is Source, the great mystery. So either they are listening or not. I don’t need to hold on to it. At the very worst, there is no one listening. But I heard it. My higher self heard it. My higher self probably sang it. So, reaching into that, I did feel an incredible amount of power, creativity, and inspiration flowing through me. So I do believe that taking good care of our bodies will help us out on a soul/spirit level. There is an undeniable connection for me and for most of the people in my communities.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I felt so much better afterward. I had been having headaches from being on the screen so the massage helped to relieve some of the pressure.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have to try not to feel too good because it lulls me into a false sense of being healed. I have to tone it down. Feels like a too long time but it is what needs to happen.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My son is away this weekend so I think I’m going to veg out for a little bit longer and then get back to all that needs to be done without too much physicality. A few more days and I’ll make my move.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 16 - Long-term Results of an Active Sexuality</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was not surprising that all these stories of my sexuality were popping up with all the awareness of what was happening in my womb.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">See my post #askingforit #normalizefemalesexuality.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuoolLN2VK3QuGUa1_VDsU5TSlM42E-z2RgNbdBl37g90HiWn5QXAZXRo9y3AiYHkqIkl5dFjPiJttzIMEKFIj5boOKtbHSMsxY23sK8sRmpxgR3B03DVlSEGOjBagv7Czz8eEaILC1z4/s1280/All+Hail+the+Yoni.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="1052" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuoolLN2VK3QuGUa1_VDsU5TSlM42E-z2RgNbdBl37g90HiWn5QXAZXRo9y3AiYHkqIkl5dFjPiJttzIMEKFIj5boOKtbHSMsxY23sK8sRmpxgR3B03DVlSEGOjBagv7Czz8eEaILC1z4/s320/All+Hail+the+Yoni.jpeg" /></a></span></span></div><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">After seeing the picture of my womb, I realized that I had invited in so many shapes via experiences that did not belong inside of me and that had festered out of control. But what I hadn’t focused on were the abortions that I have had. Those were truly the worst experiences I have ever had and I have carried them with me since the first one in 1993. I often imagine the ghosts of my children near me, what they would have looked like, how old they would be now. It is something that has haunted me and my uterus and since the operation, I have not felt them with me anymore. If you have had an abortion, I would recommend before the op also saying goodbye again to those who could have been.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Hysterical musings: Mulling over the matrix- the weave of reality. In Spanish, <i>matríz</i> (matrix) is the word used for the womb. The word matrix originates in the Latin word <i>mater</i>, meaning mother and also meaning matter. My mother matter matters, Marshall Mathers.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Days 17 - Bready Bla + Healthy Oola</span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The amazing food I had for the first week, that made me feel nourished and invigorated, I would have recommended continuing for another week, especially the two soups that felt great for rebuilding my insides. My body misses it. I don’t feel like the food that I have been eating has been nourishing that need so I have been overeating somewhat, continuously hungry for the real deal.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">So I will do another juice fast like I did before the operation to prepare and fortify my body. Do another one now to regulate and boost the quality of my rebuilding. All that bready bla stuff does not make me feel fantastic. What does make me feel incredible is good healthy tasty food. I need to dig into learning how to make it to my satisfaction. A good time to try it out is now.</span></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 18 - Back to SubNormality</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">This week, I went back to some normality. The only real difference was that I was having more naps, not lifting weights, and not driving too much. A bit more juggling to figure out rides for my son. But apart from that, he has been helpful.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I have been busy catching up on paperwork and writing, though sitting for too long is not comfortable. I wish I had one of those hospital beds to keep changing positions.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I followed some online exercises for after H surgery. The video was short and quite good and I felt like I could benefit from doing it every day to help my muscles recover.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 19 - Putting my Foot Down</span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I prepped and offered my movement class, very careful not to do too much. Getting good at asking people for help. The class was good and, as usual, once the class was underway, time and insecurities dropped away. I had a passive-aggressive student with whom we’ve shared a history of being at odds. During our time of sharing, she refused to look at me and told everyone she didn’t really feel anything because the music wasn’t good for her. She then tried to redirect on to another student but I cut her off. Letting her know that every session was different and that most importantly, she is dancing. She is not a puppet that the music dances. It’s always an interesting challenge to stay in your energy and move it, even when the music does not support that. She softened after that. I had recognized the little brat that I used to be when I wanted to criticize something but found a way to make it seem like an innocuous comment. It felt good to have the clarity to see it from the other side and to deal with it without making anyone feel bad about it. Just repositioning the point of view.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">A lovely lady from Estonia gave a beautiful counterbalance, fully engaging with her embodiment no matter the music.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">¨ Being - existence, energy, vitality - means that our spirit fills our body. Our full self is embodied. But when we look in the mirror what do we see? A dull, vacant stare? A sunken chest? A funny smile? Go take a look. What do you see? If it isn't a vibrant self brimming with energy and presence, then you're shortchanging yourself on the gift of life.¨<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVX4DkpIlON5SKPut3uv1DsGolih8hVG_AzCZhL0VuE1BL8-forrvECSE1uhq1qLfJDFa6AReSdQY8uLPpV0SNlJug2XufEe7SDqP2tPSRuukFpo0I5vv4jBbZeUJT6VLflybszil6XHg/s750/Dance+again.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="563" data-original-width="750" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVX4DkpIlON5SKPut3uv1DsGolih8hVG_AzCZhL0VuE1BL8-forrvECSE1uhq1qLfJDFa6AReSdQY8uLPpV0SNlJug2XufEe7SDqP2tPSRuukFpo0I5vv4jBbZeUJT6VLflybszil6XHg/w400-h300/Dance+again.jpeg" width="400" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 20 - Tears of Gratitude</span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I had canvassed my friends to give me suggestions for a gift basket for the nurses who took such good care of me. They had some great ideas like a spa day, massage, bubble baths, creams, facials, a drawing or painting that encourages them in their break room, feedback in the hospital's online presence.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">One of my friends has a nurse in the family who suggested a hand-written note, specialty coffee, and anything for the face in this time of all-day mask-wearing. So I got a dozen different types of cleansing facial masks, different kinds of lip balm, and a bunch of specialty snacks they would not easily find: dried beet chips, dried tomato and basil chips, dried mango and other fruits, high-quality granola, and nut bars.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I wrote a praiseful card from the heart to all the nurses and included it in the bag of goodies. As I dropped it off with the attendant nurse, my eyes filled with tears. Now, I know I have emotional lability ( I cry easily) but this is ridiculous. Why am I crying now? And why does just thinking about it make me want to cry? What is the emotional surge met by gratitude?</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I left hastily before anything else would make me cry even more, but as the elevator doors were closing, I saw all the nurses in the break room smiling and waving at me. So I cried all the way down, happy and confused.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I sat in my car, and while cooling down, wrote some feedback on the hospital presence in various online sites. Especially mentioning the excellence of their nurses.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYLMqTQaJUx7ooA_k5vwLx1Z84xrAOs5y7fNC8e9Yh7-L3kRZtnjyznqfqk_lin3qbgAloFa39knGIG3zab7ZwNI6euNP0cunWbbzyd1ssP2R1u2qX3WfopyCzK_gkqI9ZT_qVg4ijw4/s668/Ancestors.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="537" data-original-width="668" height="514" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYLMqTQaJUx7ooA_k5vwLx1Z84xrAOs5y7fNC8e9Yh7-L3kRZtnjyznqfqk_lin3qbgAloFa39knGIG3zab7ZwNI6euNP0cunWbbzyd1ssP2R1u2qX3WfopyCzK_gkqI9ZT_qVg4ijw4/w640-h514/Ancestors.jpeg" width="640" /></a></span></div><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><br /></b></span></span></p><p class="p3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="color: #274e13; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b><span class="s6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;">WEEK 4: Mud, Jungle, Mountain, Desert, River, Forest, Prairie, Cave</span></b></span></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 22 - The Operation in Graphic Detail<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdA-R4k7458cyFgcPJTUN1IgkQDBAzw0xZPSLRSPnBVAMhGp8GXvcfNechgWqRtYTuEOJfCTjc7Rhyxx8MvyyBKvOHOY_ZEavzd6bn6IqnpGQrdKbb7QSgyEh59Xn5KxWPqc7xCDPDW4/s784/Frozen+movement.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="784" data-original-width="706" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPdA-R4k7458cyFgcPJTUN1IgkQDBAzw0xZPSLRSPnBVAMhGp8GXvcfNechgWqRtYTuEOJfCTjc7Rhyxx8MvyyBKvOHOY_ZEavzd6bn6IqnpGQrdKbb7QSgyEh59Xn5KxWPqc7xCDPDW4/s320/Frozen+movement.jpeg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Been three weeks since the op. I watched a medical video that shows all the steps of how the operation is done. First, I was surprised to see how little blood there was involved. A lot of fibrous tissue there is cut and cauterized. It made me a bit nauseous but it was fascinating to follow the process and see the risks they need to navigate. I am not sure I would have wanted to see this before. But I am glad to see it now so that I can visualize the parts of me that are healing. It also answered quite a lot of questions that were circling in my head about how they did the operation. I had wondered how they removed the womb and it turns out they stick a big tube into that the vagina and pull it out through there. I had imagined it without the tube. And I had been wondering why I felt no soreness down there. I hadn't felt any sort of invasive quality in my nethers after the op.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Energy has been going in some extreme ups and downs these days. So whenever I feel tired, I just lie down and nap. It doesn't usually work- I don't fall asleep- but I do get up refreshed.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 23 - Earthing</span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today, I had some very strong ups and downs but managed to muddle through with two naps and get to the session with my energy in good form.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">It was the first time I tried chi gong lying down. I cleaned inside the house and then had a nap. Then I prepped the session, had lunch and another nap. Thinking outside and waited for dancers to come help me with the heavy lifting of speakers etc.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjE9Fe1E1ZcIEoTAtKdRv21ZzibcDYU51CNBzn5CZhLwAGvkCHuDdnBZt3M3G_PupJYp_1N5o0kJ6Ol3rJkB5Bs89flQTIWQKD6AhciRj9g1uCd2TUVTeo4IgRDOMm8hqcIcqod0H4ZA/s750/Sproutling.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="663" data-original-width="750" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvjE9Fe1E1ZcIEoTAtKdRv21ZzibcDYU51CNBzn5CZhLwAGvkCHuDdnBZt3M3G_PupJYp_1N5o0kJ6Ol3rJkB5Bs89flQTIWQKD6AhciRj9g1uCd2TUVTeo4IgRDOMm8hqcIcqod0H4ZA/w254-h225/Sproutling.jpeg" width="254" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">The session was supposed to be about inviting new shapes in with the New Moon but after watching a documentary on Earthing, I shifted the intention to that and to exploring the various terrains of earth through the embodiment of visualizing lava, mountains and valleys, desert, riverways, forests, prairies and caves of the earth and of the body. Then I asked everyone to plant the seed of new energy in their topography of choice and share a movement with everyone to represent what they want to grow.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My seed had to do with finding a strong inner voice. One that would be clear, articulate, communicative, and compassionate to defend the rights of the Earth through my writing, speaking, and secret singing. I think this is what was meant by finding the hidden path. A voice is not something that can be seen.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8wW2MZ2vTD1zlYzpSF1Z1obY7q9ZfYGP7dYga53bFZb7Kea49LBQWkxKkPqj0xvNNj48WhSpd0HltVxf3EVpU7AudvIgYRnZ07fTt-LI2z8JRtkK4QFdpr4BuUAn12FB5JoG5HssAL4/s1280/Still+Alive.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="720" height="284" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgL8wW2MZ2vTD1zlYzpSF1Z1obY7q9ZfYGP7dYga53bFZb7Kea49LBQWkxKkPqj0xvNNj48WhSpd0HltVxf3EVpU7AudvIgYRnZ07fTt-LI2z8JRtkK4QFdpr4BuUAn12FB5JoG5HssAL4/w160-h284/Still+Alive.jpeg" width="160" /></a></span><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 24 - Barely Moved</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Barely moved.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 25 - Did something happen?</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today was the first day when my womb area felt nothing in particular. No twinges or pinches or sensation of ache when sitting too long. It feels like that part of me is pretty much done with the major healing. But the rest of my body is still feeling the aftereffects.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8yde_SnfBo8XC0_PQ_coCURdSs_k-73cX61dqnPtSa3FiVQcaVh806drDAXAVbMMHWxas0ee2Zmc480xIPOIeVICxg0GLorjy78CSlOSd6QNn3QFA5ERtKvHMg3mUinmGcH8B-vXXvhs/s1218/Cocooning1.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1218" data-original-width="768" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8yde_SnfBo8XC0_PQ_coCURdSs_k-73cX61dqnPtSa3FiVQcaVh806drDAXAVbMMHWxas0ee2Zmc480xIPOIeVICxg0GLorjy78CSlOSd6QNn3QFA5ERtKvHMg3mUinmGcH8B-vXXvhs/w253-h400/Cocooning1.jpeg" width="253" /></a><span style="font-family: verdana;">Feeling the pressure of the chrysalis going hard and rigid. My body is thickening and stiffening. I can barely stand staying still but I force myself to rest whenever I am not doing essential chores or errands. I worry about thrombosis as strange points in my body have throbbing pains - on the side of my leg, my underarm, inside the elbow - worry a blood clot will form from all the inactivity. Making me feel very lazy and lackluster.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Get another massage to get my muscles moving but it felt sort of ineffectual. The masseuse had just come from an osteopathic session- which for me is already a red flag: a bodyworker must give themselves time to integrate after they receive a session before giving. He even admitted that he was not prepared for the tiredness he felt after his own session. This may have compounded the sensation I got that he just did not have magic hands.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The difference is flagrant now that my body is so sensitive. I responded intensely to Laya's massage as her hands communicated that they knew. The male masseuse felt like he was going through the motions. He had nice big supportive hands and a neutral vibe but I just was not feeling like he was tapping into the needs of my body. And he massaged feet before face which is another red flag. Feet should always come last as they have all sorts of interesting things going on, psychosomatically it feels like going from dirty area to clean, and ending with the feet helps ground the massage. He also covered the table in rough towel patches and then used my towels to clean up oil on his table without asking. So I was a bit miffed when he left and the tension in my shoulders did not really abate.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 26 - Metamorphosis 1</span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Last day of school. My son did not go. Summer vacation has unofficially begun!</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Went to the Metamorphosis workshop in the afternoon. I thought we were going to dance with Tomeu but instead got blindfolded and led around by a thread. It challenged my sense of body safety and comfort boundaries. We also went outside and did it barefoot in the countryside. I was a bit upset that we were taking so long to do this but it turned out to be much more interesting outdoors. The pain I had previously felt in my tender feet turned into information when the blindfold was put on. Since my pace was slowed, my feet were more careful and attuned to the ground and its many textures.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I picked up a friend of my son on the way back and once we got home, I made dinner for them and was ready to lay me down. My energy thread is still pretty short.</span></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 27 - Metamorphosis 2</span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">2nd day of Metamorphosis workshop. Started off with a sound bath by Jesús. I put my feet towards him. He said better to put my head facing him but I held my ground. My feet needed it more. And it felt amazing to have the vibrations travel into my feet first. Felt like the giant crystal that is my body was being cleaned of its impurities.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I still miss the feeling I had in my body the first week after the operation- so clean and freely energetic. This experience came close, as Jesús placed vibrating bowls by my feet, head, and on my belly. A bodily attunement that I could have happily experienced for another few hours. Then we sang with Pegah, warming up our bodies and voices, and exploring the corners of our sound-making depths. I very much enjoyed the space she held- so easy and light. Then we went under the fig tree, buried our offerings to the earth, and sang some chants with Natalia while Pegah played guitar. It was beautiful and peaceful but after an hour or two, I got tired of it as my voice was not used to so much singing. As facilitators, I think we have to remember that we have much longer endurance than most participants. My voice was hurting by the time we stopped.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We had a late lunch then we went back to more blindfolded exercises. Again, I expected to dance and was not pleased when I was handed two threads so I noped out of there.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">But first I had my own metamorphosis dance by myself in silence on their lovely wood floor. I danced through this healing journey and embodied the lessons of the hidden path and secret being, the new energetic womb, and the support of community, coming out with three words of what I would now like to grow within: clear heart voice.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCoV_Xv720tw8nPshCZh5FfEa9ggmx5j8aHrMAtRgO7gPQJNXrKe30ZO-Nke7sJLFGB4W2B1L15fYYRkMsYk1RUqT-AhU4QBEptN5bZX_0QOL1WEhXyD09xXK1PVEqH_NYlvIFmLotHo/s944/Inside+nature.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="944" data-original-width="759" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioCoV_Xv720tw8nPshCZh5FfEa9ggmx5j8aHrMAtRgO7gPQJNXrKe30ZO-Nke7sJLFGB4W2B1L15fYYRkMsYk1RUqT-AhU4QBEptN5bZX_0QOL1WEhXyD09xXK1PVEqH_NYlvIFmLotHo/w321-h400/Inside+nature.jpeg" width="321" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">When I got home, Christine showed up and we had a lovely heart-to-heart, unloading some of our pent-up frustrations. A few hours later, I was emptied and ready to collapse.</span><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><br /><br /></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 28 - Metamorphosis 3</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Excited for our journey to the woods. Meet up in the morning in a very special forest where, when it rains, the water comes springing straight out of the ground. Old oaks create a gorgeous canopy with the whole light-dappling-the-leaf-strewn-floor effect. It's a truly enchanted place.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">The 9 of us walked in silence from our cars for half an hour to a staging space. The proposal was to yet again get blindfolded and this time, get carried by everyone and deposited in different natural terrains then moved. I was very uncomfortable holding the fragile and heavy head then hips of a man and got rather upset at how risky it was for both the carrier and the carried. No instructions were given to the carrier to protect their backs, the stronger were placed at the extremities of the body while the weaker had to carry the heavy middle; the carried person was in all unnatural shapes while carried, grasping hands holding his neck. He did not complain but I did. Especially having just been sensitized to the ease with which people can be roped into social compliance. I was feeling flustered by the smiling dismissal of the men there but, yet again, <i>nyet</i>ed it. This operation has given me the clarity and courage to be unapologetic to others about my boundaries.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Instead, I opted to lay flat on my belly, for the first time in a month, face in the forest floor. My belly started vibrating with pleasure. This was the earthing I was craving. The full-body energy connection with the true source of life. Sourcing, earthing, connecting. I could have laid there all day if it wasn't for some itchiness and men coming over to tell me to take it easy.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSi_PhhNpDTOVeyzixWLdO5QDM68E6LoJwFQJGo2IbZyXTh2U-vN02fBrVjP73HxjIw0foEurLcUwzAQkuTKvRGiu4cz02JFF94VzxV750y0rsf8ud7S6zyA5aLrIrJtKo0_O_wQ9bNCQ/s1070/Card+Hidden+path.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1070" data-original-width="651" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSi_PhhNpDTOVeyzixWLdO5QDM68E6LoJwFQJGo2IbZyXTh2U-vN02fBrVjP73HxjIw0foEurLcUwzAQkuTKvRGiu4cz02JFF94VzxV750y0rsf8ud7S6zyA5aLrIrJtKo0_O_wQ9bNCQ/s320/Card+Hidden+path.jpeg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Luckily the next exercise, though potentially unsafe, was something I could try out. Blindfolded walking through the forest with a watcher to make sure the blindfolded one does not trip or fall or bang into anything. My watcher did no intervening. I only knew she was there by the sound of her feet on the dry leaves. I bumped into trees and stubbed my toes but it did not matter as I was going in slow motion. Again the feeling of pain being transformed into information was astounding. What was it about being blindfolded and slowing way down that made such discomfort bearable and even a bit exciting? Heightened senses and adrenaline?<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">We finished the woods section with a lovely meditation with some Hypericum (Hierba de San Juan), an herbal concoction that is helpful to heal hidden wounds, bring light to the dark. Perfect medicine to end my journey. They all went swimming in the sea but I was still unsure whether I could so I went back to the center to rest and prepare for my workshop.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Christine showed up and we prepared the metamorphosis ritual space. A few new people showed up to make our numbers about 12. In the early evening, I started with an hour of warm-up. Everyone seemed super happy and it gladdened my heart. We then did some earthing and the terrain embodiment visualization that I had tried out in our session last week. I have been making it easy for myself this week and not giving myself more work.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEPIClWix_pObQ55VnNV93ePoM8yKHQ38vhiHYVTN8SSEaBaLNdt-VO0qKaU5p5yIoRhDkGiW2R_QDMHHLnBmnxeH2R7wCVp96taIPyJ_82rjdd86czVszgWwYeiUgH3KOsYcDNT5dwNE/s1280/IMG_0047.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEPIClWix_pObQ55VnNV93ePoM8yKHQ38vhiHYVTN8SSEaBaLNdt-VO0qKaU5p5yIoRhDkGiW2R_QDMHHLnBmnxeH2R7wCVp96taIPyJ_82rjdd86czVszgWwYeiUgH3KOsYcDNT5dwNE/s320/IMG_0047.jpeg" /></a></span>We went outside to play improvised music while, one by one, the participants went on pilgrimage to the ritual fig tree. There, Christine would purify the participants, wrap them tightly in cloth chrysalis, call in the guardians and watch over their metaphorical transformation. They would then emerge with three words which were incorporated into our singing and jamming. We were very lucky to have at least four excellent musicians in our midst to hold the sound. I had a blast, felt my voice coming into its own, and enjoyed honoring the participants as they returned. It is a blessing to be in a position to remind others of their wonder and worth.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> <br /></span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Finished with a celebratory dinner of healthy yums from their garden and beyond.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p11" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">One of the participants, an inspired man from Poland, had brought a bottle of wine and we cheered with <i>chupitos</i>, chupitons, chupitontos as Daniel called it (almost snorted my wine), and regular ol´ wine glasses. ¨To the Earth and all its bounty!¨ It´s all there if you can take the time to care.</span></p><p class="p12" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 2px;"><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p12" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 2px;"><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;"><span style="color: #0c343d; font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>WEEK 5: Cleared for Living</b></span></span></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 29 - All Clear</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84M0awony711285-H-RPo2AA4xa24kSghhxKI_sRguAEHPUfSVLGIjV8lTc356K64CGuiSHa4pytU24a0AvlJiUJE-Q0isLgaKjj7ZcCMPR5ufOQSWAGScWGQXDxcTUtEFAGUO__p0Is/s1280/Me+happy.jpeg" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="962" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi84M0awony711285-H-RPo2AA4xa24kSghhxKI_sRguAEHPUfSVLGIjV8lTc356K64CGuiSHa4pytU24a0AvlJiUJE-Q0isLgaKjj7ZcCMPR5ufOQSWAGScWGQXDxcTUtEFAGUO__p0Is/w150-h200/Me+happy.jpeg" width="150" /></a></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">Go to my check-up visit with the gynaecologist who did my surgery. Dra. Maria del Mar Mas Morey, Dra.Mmmm gave me the all-clear and good news.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">My pathology report shows no sign of malignancy in the six myomas that had grown into my ex-uterus+fallopian+cervix. I told her about my surge of energy at the beginning and she said it was pretty normal considering they had removed ¨an overgrown sack of potatoes¨ making it hard on my systems. Turns out it weighed 170g (about the weight of a<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>billiard ball) and was 9x6x6cm in size (about the size of the palm of my hand) which astounds me when considering it held a full-size baby at one point. The myomas were between 1-3cm in diameter. No wonder the doctor was so eager to brush off all my concerns. Such a small bunch of things. She said not to come back for another year. Next.</span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Ok, well… yay! I am back to green light in the realm of my health. Watch out dance floor!</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 30 - Super Clear</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Visit the other gynaecologist, the German one, who confirms that everything has healed well and that I can return to normal activities of swimming (still worry that water can leak into me), sex (ha, right, what´s that again?), biking (that´s sex right?) and lifting weight (just when I was enjoying having the excuse to make my son do the donkey work.)<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dr. Gnirs (I say it like g-nu but not to his face) worries that I look a bit wan so orders me to get blood tests done and to return in 6 months. I think I will switch to him. He seems more concerned and has more time and patience to discuss issues.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">I forgot to take my supplements but it seems like my menopause has gone on pause. No more cold sweats, etc. I wonder if it is finally over along with my period. Fully free to embrace the next phase of life - still active, a bit wiser, and with an identity that I can remake as I wish. My main identity no longer tied to my capacity to reproduce.</span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 31 - Crystal Clear</span></b></p><p class="p10" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 15px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today I offered a Staccato class and was a bit concerned as to whether I would have the energy for it. But once we got going, I was on fire, ready to fire up everyone else's feet, hips, and hearts! Chaos made me especially happy as I could shake and wiggle all I wanted. Always amazed and grateful for this practice that brings strangers together to move, distant as islands when they arrive, yet they leave like the ocean, with a sense of intimate connection however far we are. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Went to Santosha to pick up my speakers and treat myself to their delicious healing foods. I miss Ruth´s cooking and want to go and celebrate with the ones who helped me begin this healing journey. Her Irish lilt and Eran´s Israeli arching tones make me feel immediately at home. We celebrate with homemade ginger lemonade, spicy and fresh. Crunchy flat bean tacos that I had to eat slowly because they were too good to eat fast. Make it last. Had some more of their orange-almond mana-from-heaven cake. Now that their restaurant is open again, I am happy to see they are busy but I miss them in the dance and in our group. All I could do was leave them with profound gratitude for their healing craft and a profound wish for their own personal satisfaction.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p11" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dance and good food. My son telling me about his day at the park with his friends. Our cats and dogs happy to see us and we them. Water the lush garden. Have a great new book and a voice of my own to hone and treasure. Next week heading off to visit my mom. All is well and I thank my family, friends, doctors, nurses, healers, animals, and myself that it is so.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p11" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqEJiCTWz54EaLaWb7VfG8xmIFIZe4GtDh66amfaxlON1Hs8DRDNr72xhXY12T5ZEaHXMUawixFCIgIC1PmDX6-74WhWc-fEULhl1N8nRWsNaaehCgRgdqo5whAkDVWIXDpqAIU_P3js/s1138/Stones+Grandmas.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1138" data-original-width="943" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxqEJiCTWz54EaLaWb7VfG8xmIFIZe4GtDh66amfaxlON1Hs8DRDNr72xhXY12T5ZEaHXMUawixFCIgIC1PmDX6-74WhWc-fEULhl1N8nRWsNaaehCgRgdqo5whAkDVWIXDpqAIU_P3js/w530-h640/Stones+Grandmas.jpeg" width="530" /></a></span></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="p11" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s3" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p11" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span class="s3" style="color: #073763; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><b>FREE WRITE: What's in a Womb?</b></span></span></p><p class="p8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 9px;">(Wrote this in the week before my operation, to be read to my writing group whom I had not told. Our meeting was on the day of the op and I thought it would be interesting to accompany each other in this way and also for a man to read it. Hehe. Howard was kind enough to accept the challenge.)</span></p><p class="p8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 9px;"><br /></span></p><p class="p8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 13px;"><span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue"; font-size: 9px;"><br /></span></p><span style="font-family: verdana;">I walked into the crisp office feeling carefree and left full of regrets. <br />¨ Sure, take my womb! ¨ I had agreed. <br />Houses should be lived in. If not, make space for nature. <br />But then I balked, my own wild nature, my natural identity asserting itself, howling out:¨You are a woman!! You are a mother!! You are a sex goddess!! This sacred space should be left empty for the filling and spilling of life in all its bloody glory!¨<br /><br />Hmmm, if you rip my womb from my entrails, cauterize my tubes, shore up my honeyed tunnel, will I still not be a woman, a mother, a goddess? <br />Every pore of my skin sings it is so.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />More is my concern about losing my connection to the life force, to my chi. <br />Right there in the soft dark center of me. <br />Is it a little orb, a pearl that can be shucked from a lifeless organ? <br />Is my chi a polyp of rainbow light that can only glow hanging in the deepest cave?<br /><br />My better nature blows softly into my ear: ¨ Follow the threads that hold life in motion.¨<br />I pulled on a red one, followed it around the corner, blood poured down the walls, tears down my neck.<br />As I continued on, the thread turned purple, thickening into a cord. I plucked, it twanged, stars danced in the distance.<br />The cord swelled up into a glowing blue rope, anchoring an umbilical end into the earth itself. A shockwave of life pulsing endlessly. Traversing me as I held on, electrified.<br />I tugged on it and became aware that all that held me were my hands. The rest of me floated upwards. This time I held on sweating. <br /><br />What to do? Praying to the mystery within, I felt a cold stream of air making space within my space, resonating like the gong of the moon. With every resounding beat on my heart, the cord marked a rotation, slower and slower, my hands slipped as I fell towards the sky.<br /><br />When you are heading up the spiral, it is best to let go of dead weight. <br />I let go of my identity's hold on one thread, one shape, one last drop squeezed out from my depths, dropping, darkening a stone already dark with my shrinking shadow, conceiving a new spirit. <br /><br />The stone turned to seed, the seed turned to mountain, the mountain penetrated up into the sky. Following my flight as I empty. No longer full, free to float into a deeper space.<br />Untethered and unmoored, unmade and returned to the elements. Starting over with so much trailing behind me already. Cut loose the ties.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />No time for regrets until it's all over and done with.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br />And it never is.</span><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDX7B0my-rU9mtGeLApWCz43AcEqTjp30gDzNl9MnxAjfG_r4sEIB-JywWB_Jy2qlkL_PuEYMPyVIFIfKRKjTrdIzt2iltwNeG3-63KTqAknqGNphGJ09JEbyhhgA0nUdw_ZSBJhJ9jBE/s1280/Yoni+cave+out.jpeg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDX7B0my-rU9mtGeLApWCz43AcEqTjp30gDzNl9MnxAjfG_r4sEIB-JywWB_Jy2qlkL_PuEYMPyVIFIfKRKjTrdIzt2iltwNeG3-63KTqAknqGNphGJ09JEbyhhgA0nUdw_ZSBJhJ9jBE/w300-h400/Yoni+cave+out.jpeg" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV2m1DqW7WMaq1QmkEse1Hubz6C5WXR-s3K08ilzxhEjauDLWWhnm9qy3zlaHpC_57BwdyBOWRy_y344xh-pRS-MN1p_yRzXQTyYabRkTTR6MqN98OHAlOSkMsCIvtMw60-oJmFARzTlU/s1084/Yoni+cave+in.jpeg"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhV2m1DqW7WMaq1QmkEse1Hubz6C5WXR-s3K08ilzxhEjauDLWWhnm9qy3zlaHpC_57BwdyBOWRy_y344xh-pRS-MN1p_yRzXQTyYabRkTTR6MqN98OHAlOSkMsCIvtMw60-oJmFARzTlU/w340-h400/Yoni+cave+in.jpeg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><p class="p16" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 2px;"><span style="color: #20124d;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>WEEK 6: POST-SCRIPTUM - New Womb, New Rules, New Gender?</b></span></span></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana;">Day 40 - Complete</span></b></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">They say it takes forty days to integrate an experience or to truly adopt a new regimen. Tonight, I am feeling whole and the world feels complete.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Today I was with close friends, sharing a meal of <i>bacalao</i> and <i>jerez</i>, crying over our trials and tribulations of the past year, refilling our hearts and souls with freshly squeezed laughter and newly gleaned wisdoms. As we age, I begin to see how the souls of my chosen family polish and shine. Sure, we cackle like witches and argue like donkeys, but we know that, at the end, we will hug like gorillas, all leaving with our own style of power enhanced by our rewoven bond.</span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And my chosen family just got bigger! This weekend, I discovered a brother.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">For so long, I have mourned the loss of my relationship with my blood brother. But then the anti-anti-christ showed up on my doorstep. At first, I thought he was an acquaintance, a colleague, a possible friend, maybe even a lover, but my loss-weathered soul took its time for once and with slow deliberate intuitive sniffing, I began to notice a different scent- a rare one- the smell of kin!<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-ttKSOn0E2Mpi1Lhvj-AT9Wkt9w8FUAMxmGE75E4RQpTnVSzcoG8e7HzFRoCB8aN_-ZQhBlWt5QMx2TpHkXCLnKI6o2OEWoyaaCQAOmBps5rTOHAuCkpAMcutYxUiusd9DUj25vKgRI/s1252/Tree+love.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1252" data-original-width="944" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2-ttKSOn0E2Mpi1Lhvj-AT9Wkt9w8FUAMxmGE75E4RQpTnVSzcoG8e7HzFRoCB8aN_-ZQhBlWt5QMx2TpHkXCLnKI6o2OEWoyaaCQAOmBps5rTOHAuCkpAMcutYxUiusd9DUj25vKgRI/s320/Tree+love.jpeg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: verdana;">What a surprise to witness this new kind of archetype blossom between us- the Conduit- a sibling-in-arms in the wild ride of life´s adventuring. We share freckles and speaking in tongues, went biking and walking and I felt no worse for the wear with such good company. We swapped battle (love+sex) stories at the opening of a sea cave, both looking in, wondering about the future we are jumping into, hands open, smile wide.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><p></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And I felt no fear, no shrinking, no needing to appear a certain way. The only thing that was shrinking was the wound of the male gaze. I felt his interest and complicity without feeling any prodding for more more more.</span></p><p class="p18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p19" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Shifting the lights in our eyes, beaming straight to the naked core, glowing up the fascia to pulse and stretch and dance dance dance into the one. The archetypes shift more and more in the social media kaleidoscope. Our identities are shaken loose by a request for authenticity- will the me of today be enough for the you of today? And tomorrow's today? With a brother, the point is moot and the other is always enough. There is no choice when you're talking about chosen family. Just being together is enough.</span></p><p class="p19" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">And what about me? Who am I now without a womb? How has my identity shifted? What is my new archetypal gender? </span><span style="font-family: verdana;">Not a man, nor a womb-man. There are a million, nay billions, of hues of genders and sexualities. Is it even important to know what gender I am if I can not reproduce? Can my new energetic conduit gender just be called: turquoise with a touch of silver and gold?</span></p><p class="p19" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p19" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="p19" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 18px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><span class="s7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; letter-spacing: 0.2px; line-height: normal;"><b>REFERENCES</b></span></span></p><ul class="ul1"><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span>BINAURAL BRAIN SYNC: You can find loads on YT; you just need to find the sound that suits you. I personally use Brainwave app so I can choose background sound and the amount of time. I also like Kelly Howell´s Brainsync programs. She has been at it longer than most and knows her material with much experience and success.</span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span>COMIC RELIEF: Menopause Rhapsody: <a href="http://youtu.be/AcVFtu-ZmmM"><span class="s9">youtu.be/AcVFtu-ZmmM</span></a></span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span>LOGISTICAL SUPPORT : <a href="http://www.hystersisters.com"><span class="s9">www.hystersisters.com</span></a>. A bit dry for my tastes but they do have a huge resource of information available for free. And the possibility of joining forums with others who are having a hysterectomy on the same date. Really nice to have that mutual support experience with others who are in the same boat.</span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span>PHYSICAL SUPPORT: Youtube channel Jessica Valant Pilates. <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AwPajVz8mF0&ab_channel=JessicaValantPilates"><span class="s9">Post-surgery exercises</span></a>. Short and easy to follow.</span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span>MUSICAL SUPPORT: Mixcloud Playlists by me: <a href="http://www.mixcloud.com/enifares"><span class="s9">www.mixcloud.com/enifares</span></a> Of course, these are amazing! Mostly waves (meaning the entire mix goes from flowing to energetic to chaotic to lyrical to stillness) based on the 5Rhythms, in which I am a certified teacher.</span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span class="s8" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span>SYMBOLIC SUPPORT : <a href="http://wombblessing.com"><span class="s9">wombblessing.com</span></a>. Twice a year.</span></li></ul><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p16" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px 0px 2px;"><span class="s2" style="letter-spacing: 0.2px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: medium;"><b>CONTACTS</b></span></span></p><ul class="ul1"><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">AMAZING FOOD/RESTAURANT : Santosha, Palma, Mallorca, <a href="https://www.santoshapalma.com/?fbclid=IwAR1HXvn6Qgh2grMiyR38nTfIyK_5F_ZQysNlIM75uWCmopePLDfhtD_0dA0"><span class="s9">www.santoshapalma.com</span></a><span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">ART THERAPY : Olga Manzanaro, insta: <a href="https://www.instagram.com/olgamanzanart?fbclid=IwAR2-MEqfI7VFO_vxl7CIVFSoKdh8UJbVb09z9K9w2Y9yc_9ZSWbe2RbWIWY"><span class="s9">olgamanzanart</span></a></span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">CRANIOSACRAL THERAPY + TRAINING : Howard Evans, <a href="http://www.howardevans.co.uk/?fbclid=IwAR2KGsZ35T56rEBBoor9mHn6Qdqi8oQSwn-Naa-5UC0elSzoNkR4FJzo-6E"><span class="s9">www.howardevans.co.uk/</span></a></span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">EDEN ENERGY HEALER + WISDOM : Sandy Wand, whatsapp: +1 541 200 8085</span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">GYNAECOLOGISTS, Mallorca:</span></li><ul class="ul1" style="list-style-type: disc;"><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dra. Maria del Mar Más Morey, Quirón Salud : 971 918 000</span></li><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">Dr. Gnirs : 971 451 029</span></li></ul><li class="li18" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;">MASSAGE : Laya Coutinho, Mallorca, whatsapp: +34 622 668 861</span></li></ul><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><br /></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p17" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 16px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></p><p class="p22" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><i><span style="font-stretch: normal;"><span class="s6" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal;"></span></span><b>DO NOT SCROLL FURTHER </b></i></span></p><p class="p22" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; text-align: center;"><span style="color: red; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-large;"><i><b>IF YOU ARE SQUEAMISH</b></i></span></p><p class="p23" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">TRIGGER WARNING:</span></b></p><p class="p23" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">The last picture below is of the removed uterus<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">with fibroids and fallopian tubes for those who are curious<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></p><p class="p2" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">to see what it looks like.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></b></p><p class="p23" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 17px;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><b></b><br /></span></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Do not continue if you do not want to see blood.</span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">Are you sure?</span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;">It´s just a part of women...</span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b></p><p class="p24" style="color: #a30003; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><b><i></i></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgU_AJgCOSQrMfyeXO_DaNM8Yor48XMtlGz0rorf8Oxn9LzKwm2XRyb7ps7q6LfFUqYBKPoLMLnoK8EofpBuimS4ymILIZth7SNndK8by5bB2yPvWt-g_jd-KhgJPZ-0g9VZWMDHGPhmQ/s1280/Uterus.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgU_AJgCOSQrMfyeXO_DaNM8Yor48XMtlGz0rorf8Oxn9LzKwm2XRyb7ps7q6LfFUqYBKPoLMLnoK8EofpBuimS4ymILIZth7SNndK8by5bB2yPvWt-g_jd-KhgJPZ-0g9VZWMDHGPhmQ/w300-h400/Uterus.jpeg" width="300" /></a></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i><br /></i></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b><i>Goodbye and thanks for all the memories</i></b></div><b><i><br /><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></b><p></p><p class="p7" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p class="p9" style="font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: verdana;"> </span></span></p></div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-60674347087766284682015-01-26T05:44:00.000-08:002015-01-26T05:56:24.978-08:00Memento Mori Mix<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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¨What am I doing with my Life? Preparing for my Death.¨- Mati Klarwein<br />
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<iframe frameborder="0" height="180" src="https://www.mixcloud.com/widget/iframe/?feed=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.mixcloud.com%2Fenifares%2Fmusic-for-my-funeral-looking-far-into-the-future-adios-to-me-and-hello-beauty%2F&embed_uuid=8aeee099-b96d-448e-bb95-591f524b9ff7&replace=0&hide_cover=1&embed_type=widget_standard&hide_tracklist=1" width="660"></iframe><br />
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<a href="http://www.mixcloud.com/enifares/music-for-my-funeral-looking-far-into-the-future-adios-to-me-and-hello-beauty/?utm_source=widget&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=base_links&utm_term=resource_link" style="color: grey; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Music for my funeral - looking into the future - Adios to me and hello beauty</a> by <a href="http://www.mixcloud.com/enifares/?utm_source=widget&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=base_links&utm_term=profile_link" style="color: grey; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank">Serafina Al Zaurak</a> on <a href="http://www.mixcloud.com/?utm_source=widget&utm_medium=web&utm_campaign=base_links&utm_term=homepage_link" style="color: grey; font-weight: bold;" target="_blank"> Mixcloud</a></div>
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serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-8022756545395273122012-12-15T14:55:00.000-08:002012-12-15T15:05:33.415-08:00Love Gun<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I shoot all my love out to our world tonight and every night as long as I live. You feel me?<br />
<br />
Let's set hard hearts to fire, melting above our burning compassion.<br />
How much suffering? How much horror is echoing back to us.<br />
<br />
Do we really think we can shoot others in other countries with impunity?<br />
There is no escape for the firestorm of karmic actions we have let float by under our very noses. And we will be blown about.<br />
Biblic indeed when children murder children, again and again.<br />
<br />
How do we stop it?<br />
They had the right idea in Newtown, by gathering<br />
and singing and loving each other so much more.<br />
Only by loving and caring for our children will we be able to stop<br />
the future from crumbling.<br />
<br />
The child in me is speaking to the child in you.<br />
<br />
You know I reach out to you because I love and trust you.<br />
Let's spread the positive vibrations quick!!!!!<br />
Choose the love.<br />
The time for the gun is past.<br />
<br />
Be a part of history by forgiving,<br />
starting afresh without losing roots or heads.<br />
<br />
The spring will soon be coursing through our blood<br />
and the darkest night of the year, moonless and long,<br />
will incubate with our love and be born<br />
with light pouring out of her ears.<br />
<br />
The brain of a love child is scientifically proven<br />
to emit low levels of gamma rays,<br />
otherwise known as love tickles~~~~<br />
<br />
sleep with the lions<br />
dance with snakes<br />
pray with the mantis<br />
love with the wolves<br />
do whatever love asks you to<br />
<br />
JUST STOP FUCKING AROUND WITH GUNS< YOU TWWAAATTTS!!!!!!!!!<br />
<br />
And with that, good night. No... Good Love.<br />
Cheers to the world we birth! Love her already. Love him already.<br />
Here it comes....<br />
Boo!<br />
<br />
<br />
No really just kidding. Not about the love though :)<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgoBlyeNfbB1uydbgtML11oiVHur6aGTY2n_x6n2Sz0jyiYSN8xn_pKvQJslJm9DsExICwijbcmuQ5WcC7UT7YfsrixUeqe1stNpypzM6o1wh90Vdu0szj8o9JhStIhVu1PR94Dvz11E/s1600/Tree+reborn.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlgoBlyeNfbB1uydbgtML11oiVHur6aGTY2n_x6n2Sz0jyiYSN8xn_pKvQJslJm9DsExICwijbcmuQ5WcC7UT7YfsrixUeqe1stNpypzM6o1wh90Vdu0szj8o9JhStIhVu1PR94Dvz11E/s1600/Tree+reborn.jpg" /></a></div>
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Last winter, I took this picture at about the same time of year. </div>
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We were roadtripping with my son and dear friend Leti.</div>
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We stopped at an out of season hotel on the edge of a vast marsh,</div>
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the sun, the herons, the horses all reflected in this light.</div>
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serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-51845570718501001812012-11-23T02:56:00.001-08:002012-12-15T15:23:09.755-08:00You are all welcome, no matter your experience<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">In a taxi, as on an elevator. Stuck together, going the same way. You can or cannot talk but you can’t move while you both move. Both keeping an eye on the movement markers ticking away. The driver has a stuffed animal dog on a pillow on her dashboard. Does she have a dog at home? No. Such intimacy shared yet no names exchanged. Nothing left but money and advice. Here we are. A place to connect.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>You start arriving as soon as you take the first step. I realize when I walk up to the theater that this is where I always wanted to be when I dreamed of growing up. Now I am too old to be of here, but as I walk around to the entrance of the Teatro Lliure, my back straightens, my feet grip the floor, my arms swing, casually I can look the part. Right here, right now, I do belong. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">I will dance where real dancers practice. This hallowed space where they make the intangible visible. Souls are waiting, hoping, counting on them. But us, we here now, can only help ourselves.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Fifty of us make our way in, pretending not to check each other out. How will this workshop bring us together or keep us apart? I see a complicated mix. I love to come to this practice where all ages, all body sizes, all levels, all mindsets are welcome. As long as they are ready to flow. </span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><span style="letter-spacing: 0.0px;">There are those who are hard to define, with half-smiles, clear eyes, humming feet- instruments of the oncoming path. My eyes seek them out, they will be my reference points during the journey. They are the ones who will keep me from</span> thinking, who will inspire me to keep chasing around my body until I can finally pounce on the rampaging critic, tie him up tight and pin him to the shadow at my feet, allowing the light to seep unfiltered into my pores, into my veins, up through my spine like a night highway, and out through my ears like a lighthouse. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;">If I’m lucky, I will arrive radiating. And though the last step will bring me back to where I started, I will be that much higher on the spiral, that much further out or in, or at least further from or closer to that self dragged by space, looking for time, doing doing doing. But for now I can just be be be. And what can we bear. And how. When the waves come bearing down, how will we ride them?</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Bodies are littered across the rubbery floor, stretching randomly. The first rhythm starts. A voice opens the gates. Flow. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Finding our feet, birthing our awareness to this space, these people, this body, waking these feet that go and go and touch us to the earth, connect us to the floor like magnets or we would float, pushing, lifting, landing, forwards and back, side to side, wide sweeps as the rhythm coaxes, the melody loosens, the hips undulate to the rippling bass, as I swim through dancers, float backwards, dive forwards again and round and around, drowning in thoughts, resurfacing to breath in emptiness, roll, skin my knees, fear, feel the sea of energy rising, pouring into our matrix. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Then, just when the stretching and the softening begins to loosen us up to the pleasure of being graceful, the second rhythm hits. Staccato. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Shapes. Angles. Percussive. Pound. Respond. Shield. Blink. Search. Play. This way. That way. Down. Hard. Up. Soft. Trust. Stare. 90. 30. 45. 180. 360. You. Me. Us. Them. Sweat. Stink. Chest. Hips. Heart. Pulse. On. Off. Forward. Stop. Back. Go. Don’t. Know. Don’t. Care. Love. Anger. Hesitate. Hate. Laugh. Shouts: “Breathe! Breathe! Breathe!” Go. Go. Go. Go. And 3. 2. 1. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Zero. Chaos breaks comes jumbles through the gates, he’s there, they’re wizards, monkeys, snakes who slither, hop, whip hair, lost heads zip up seaweed jungles of thoughts dried up chickpeas rattling in brain will get bingo bongo freaky outy, eyes without goals, angrily fuck the air, hold the space captive, smell deep long beaked birds break out calling voices touching fingers closing eyes vibrations see through us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“We are all meant to be dangerous,” the voice shouts out. He is powerful, sleek, full of electric breath. His body hypnotizes us, our twin zombies. Released, we land into ourselves and explode with the joy of recognition. Aahhhh, THIS is where I was! Promise, don’t hide again. Be quiet, keep dancing if you want me to stay. I’m here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>The fourth rhythm massages itself into our bodies- lyrical- making us all feel beautiful. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">As we were meant to be. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">“Trust your body, it never lies,” unless it wants to. Now it wants to tell the truth, the whole truth to everyone and knows already what everyone knows. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Alive, we leap and turn into clouds. She’s a wind. He’s a flower gently opening, She’s a hummingbird, sipping each nectar. He’s a feather, waltzing in currents. She’s a ripple, bursting with widenings. He’s a shore, waiting to be lapped. She’s a me. I’m a loose pebble tumbling through the air. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">We are beings discovering our endless frames of being. We commune by dancing. We experience ourselves by moving. We feel ourselves by being still.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>And so, in the final rhythm, we slow down, down, down and listen to our echoes. And finally, our heart the engines, our breath the fuel, our bodies the machines, all quiet down. Down. Down. And we drop into the supply. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Evaporated, condensed. The journey is that effort to distill, that peeling of useless layers to reveal, that trusting leap into the unknown known, that evaporation of preconception and condensation of what you didn’t know that you knew. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">Or in this case, what you moved that you didn’t move in order to know what you already knew without knowing it. Stillness.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGtin2lrOvzF85dwT53vXg0TxPW1CnCz6GSW3yYzQ2r3C7T4gr55OoEPLdQ9iR5MG-uiZX5HsNjYn-Ndo0iltH5yA8VUadYKfeWjIXXMZVYYL90euq_IjVGqi84Q7SuKTuvLyMyw6HHvc/s1600/dancer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGtin2lrOvzF85dwT53vXg0TxPW1CnCz6GSW3yYzQ2r3C7T4gr55OoEPLdQ9iR5MG-uiZX5HsNjYn-Ndo0iltH5yA8VUadYKfeWjIXXMZVYYL90euq_IjVGqi84Q7SuKTuvLyMyw6HHvc/s320/dancer.jpg" width="239" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Holding hands, we gather in a circle; only circles will do at this point. We squeeze. Tears, laughter, goodbyes. It doesn’t matter that we separate, we have shared the most important part. When I walk out, the critic is nowhere to be seen, the audience is dancing, the dancers can rest and the theater is just another space. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Outside, the fog lays thick among the trees, as if the universe was still waxing lyrical, a group of graceful elderly practice varying forms of tai chi on the different levels of the tiered park at MontJuïc. I sit to eat some raisins and chocolate, and to watch. I can almost hear the cosmic orchestra overplaying as lovely rosy white pigeons land on my sleeves, on my knees. They pick raisins from my hands. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large; letter-spacing: 0.0px;">But then they too leave me when I run out. And it also doesn’t matter. I’m on to the next thing and I’m walking away before I know it.</span></div>
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serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-90797608444508633622012-02-10T08:16:00.000-08:002012-02-10T12:54:39.432-08:00The Passion of Opa<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“Vell, since you asked.” </i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Opa looked over at Oma and added: “<i>Zey are old enough to know vat really happened.” </i>Oma looked into the hearth and the shadows of her wrinkles danced in the firelight.<i> </i>Opa smiled at us knowingly, white lips framing browned teeth. Nodding, he continued:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“It really vas ze most extra-ordinary experience in my whole life!” </i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Opa sat deeper into his sunken leather chair. His movements slowed and then ceased. His soul lost in the memory vaults of his mind, looking for the file with the full story.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Isolated parts of his body jerked as he re-animated and picked up speed<i>:</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>“It vas, as usual, a cold afternoon. Frau Schraub and I decided to walk to ze Musikverein to attend ze matinee performance of ze traveling Transylvanian Monks Choir. Oh! You should have seen ze Musikverein in zat time. Gilded balcony boxes, gilded ornaments, even gilded cufflinks on ze attendants! Oh meine gott! And ze perfumes, zey were inebriating. Ve men all sat zere drinking in Midnight Vishes, Eve’s Secret and even some vomen dared to vear Pink Depression. Can you imagine vat a disturbance it vas? But zat afternoon, when ze monks appeared on stage, everyone got sober right avay. Ze humility of ze monks’ poise, se-ven-ty-two of zem calmly lining up in rows. Ah. Ze silence rose and zen fell as ze tritonal vibrations began. I tell you zat vibration shook ze gilding off our teeth! Ve felt as naked as god’s children. Ze polyphonies of ze choir weaved new clothes for our beings to become...erk..”</i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Opa gurgled and coughed. His eyes wandered off and then a rasping sound came from his throat as it always did before one of his 'episodes':</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>“assamalaitooaaaA alles consumini nihilihomini balangasuuuooorna!”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>He turned to us with his elated rictus, his nostrils sniffing the air but just as suddenly, he frowned. His face chalked up.</span></div>
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<span style="font: normal normal normal 12px/normal Helvetica; letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>“For gott’s sake! Argh! Ah vell, anyvay. Frau Schraub and I left ze </i></span><span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i>Musikvereinssaal feeling like babies! New! Nozzing made much sense anymore so ve vent home and sought ze comfort in each other’s arms and...Anyvey! Ze next day, ve found out ze roof of ze concert hall had collapsed on ze monks during rehearsal before ze night show. Ve vere shocked and really, devastated! And, ve vere not ze only ones. Ve vent to back to ze Musikverein to see vat had happened and saw many ozzers from ze matinee audience vere zere. Ve gazzered before ze rubble like lost lambs and zen, yes my little ones, ve did do it like zey said. Ve did tear off our clothes and begin to sing!”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Opa was exuberant, but getting tired. He lay his head back on the chair’s headrest and closed his eyes.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>“All of us! Ve sang and ve chanted, mitout a stich as you say, in ze rude Viennese air, while onlookers desperately tried to clozze us. Ve knew not vat ve did. But ve knew vat ve felt.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Oma seemed to be smiling, even laughing, but it was hard to tell in the flickering light. Opa thrilled:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>“Ve vere one voice! Such power...And zen, ven ve finished, ve all collapsed at ze same instant. Some people called it mob hysteria, some a mass hallucination. But I know! I felt it! Zey vere wiz us! Zey vere good to zeir promise.”</i></span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Opa’s skin glowed translucent in the firelight. He seemed to doze off but his familiar rasp creaked out announcing the beginning of another episode:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>“Nigaliboo vizaminilooya huaka ni boombala ommm mishka nishkaaaAla!”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Opa gagged and his eyes snapped open.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>“Ach! It vas amazing but it had its’ side-effects. Zey called it Monk Regression Syndrome, or somezing like zat. Zey said ve vere experiencing ze remaining echoes of shock from such resonant beings. But ve know ze truth, don’t ve, meine Frau?”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Oma finally piped up with her warbling voice:</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>“Oh, Opa Schraub, enough meine liebe. Ze story is causing me to..um..you know.”</i></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><i><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></i>Opa arched his billowing eyebrows at her and looked back at us.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span><i>“Vell, meine lieblings. Know zat you too know ze truth, you must excuse us. Ve have some 'communing' to do.”</i> Opa got up with a series of creaks. He gave Oma his hand and helped her steady onto her cane. Opa turned to us one last time: <i>“Remember, ze situation is hopeless, but not serious," </i>and they hobbled off through the doorway.</span><br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We looked at each other and of one accord, snuck up to the crack in the door. As we positioned ourselves, we could hear them harmonizing. They stood there, facing each other, chanting in the candlelight. Shadows grew and stiffened around them, turning first into smoke and then into dark cloaked figures. We froze as the monks manifested and circled our <i>großeltern</i>. The monks threw back their hoods and</span> howled in unison. The walls vibrated with their wailing. Oma and Opa raised their smiling faces to the skies and sang loudly. The monks clawed at their clothes, unfolded their flesh, and began sucking their necks, drinking the vital flow from their song. As the incantations thickened into a feeding frenzy, we fled to hide under our beds, fainting with fear. The next morning we were surprised to wake up alive, tucked in our sheets. We held hands as we went downstairs. The house was silent and smelled of stale smoke and slaughter.<br />
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>We found Oma and Opa’s bodies in a tight embrace on the floor, naked.. to the bone.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrMQtoo43uyR2so8BvtOHAQjkneW2BuOy6l6Eo0f8u_I3jBw17Yj2xf2_NPRLKVCPE7gRD3kI18xxpluY8Zoxhq_t58mHljUdqXuzYwpH8HUxTgpZjxCB5dvcjLwdUgx0cjY3Sd9TPeE/s1600/Lovers-of-Valdaro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKrMQtoo43uyR2so8BvtOHAQjkneW2BuOy6l6Eo0f8u_I3jBw17Yj2xf2_NPRLKVCPE7gRD3kI18xxpluY8Zoxhq_t58mHljUdqXuzYwpH8HUxTgpZjxCB5dvcjLwdUgx0cjY3Sd9TPeE/s320/Lovers-of-Valdaro.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<i>"The Lovers of Valdaro"</i></div>
</div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-59216211814479832512011-11-23T03:05:00.001-08:002011-11-23T13:25:38.840-08:00FORBIDDEN FRUITS<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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At first, I was born and I had all I wanted.<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">Then I turned 1 and was told what I could not want.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And so my longing was born. My belated shadow.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At 2, it was forbidden to whine about longing,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">so I learned to hum and sing and whistle and cry.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At 3, it was electric plugs and switches that were prohibited,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">so I learned to beg for one more story before lights-out.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At 6, it was colorful candy that was vilified,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">so I stuck my fingers in the Hungry Caterpillar book.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At 9, it was lovely laziness that could ruin my life,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">so I wrote stories about princesses who had it all and lied around all day.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At 12, it was sultry smoke that was made to look ugly,</span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">so I drew pictures of punk girls smoking cigarettes that they couldn’t smell.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At 15, it was understood that the boy next door might as well be in China,</span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">so I wrote him and he wrote me back.</span></div>
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At 20, I moved out and, finally, I had it all.</div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">By 30, ten years were lost to satisfaction. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I had had it all so much and so many times</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">that I was tired of it.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">So I broke the last taboo </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">in my feminist family</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">and had a baby.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I breastfed him until he was 2, hoping to satiate his longing,</span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">So then he learned to laugh himself to sleep.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I was pleased he barely whined.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At 3, it was electric plugs and switches, and so his longing was born.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">His delayed shadow. </span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And my shadow was now layered, filtered & transformed.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">The opposite of longing is not the loss of desire,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">it is the caring for love acquired.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"></span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">At 20, he will have moved out and until then,</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">I will take care to leave room for his shadow when I hold his hand,</span></div>
<div style="font: 12.0px Helvetica; margin: 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px 0.0px;">
<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">paying as close attention to his ethereal as to his material.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">And maybe, he can have it all, in a way, in his way, on his way</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;">to fulfillment, never needing to reach the end of his desire.</span></div>
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<span style="letter-spacing: 0px;"><br /></span></div>
</div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-81241933141327323942011-10-18T05:05:00.000-07:002011-10-18T05:11:08.924-07:00TRANSPORT<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I sit on the toppled tree trunk and await the elephant. The seat is hard and ridged with grot, but smooth from the polishing by repeated bottoms.<br />
A purring, roaring stench of gases rips around me as sleek panthers, creaking rhinos and whinging work horses fart on home to feed and breed.<br />
Soft, sticky slips of air slide down vines, pierced here and there by rare sharpened sunbeams.<br />
The canopy buzzes and crackles with the communication clouds of insects overhead, zooming blood-suckers collide into the milky-webs of carnivorous mummifiers.<br />
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A woman sits on the trunk next to me. Her stench is so strong, I can taste her. A pungent musk emanating from under her clothes fingers its way into my nose, plays some octaves on the organ of my tongue, huffing and puffing onto my tastebuds. Her greying tan skin tones make my palate salivate. I look over and she blends perfectly into the background of flaking mud. She may be well camouflaged but the rancid smell is a dead giveaway.<br />
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A camouflaged storm bashes through the jungle corridors, leaves explode, the insects tornado down hungrily. Our elephant arrives and wobbles to a halt. I feed it some nickel nuts. He wraps his muscular trunk around me and shoves me inside. Others are already stewing within, their mumbles faintly echoing the great rumbling stomach. Locals pick the best ribs to sit on. The rest of us grab onto slippery intestines, dangly nerve endings, and eachother. We fuse together as the swelter seals us.<br />
We become a many-headed mass, a puzzle of poking bones and rounded drooping flesh. Coughed, sneezed, expectorated: waves of germs ripple out. Our breaths attempt to skip over them but the germs are patient and hang out, spreading slowly in the dense air.<br />
The mass stumbles about as our elephant barrels and charges, and stops short.<br />
<br />
<i>Carne con Ojos -</i> we are a big swaying lump of mottled meat with lucid liquid eyes poking out at the surface.<br />
Every time we stop, I peek through as the entrance gapes and lets in a circle of outside information. A raw red halo surrounds each passenger as they enter. Beyond them, I can see the familiar landmarks confirming the uncomfortable distance to my destination.<br />
<br />
At the first stop, I can see the Cooperative Trees in their neat rows, with their perfectly layered branches whereupon the dominant breed tends to their nests. Blue-jean birds, with their rubbery white feet and synthetic feathers. They are carrion birds and can pluck you bald if provoked. Gaggles of them get on the transport as other gaggles get off.<br />
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Then darkness and more barreling and charging. The powerful elephant covers incredible lengths of land this way. Then stomps to a halt again.<br />
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At the next stop, my ride's viscous maw slurps open to reveal the noxious Flower Fronts. Giant blooms, larger than our elephant, plop open their purple pink and puce petals to entice us with overwhelming odors of sweetness and distilled favors. Brightly confused hummingbirds sip at the forbidden drops before being sucked in by the slobbering sinuous stigma. Bloom-tenders hover about outside. This species dedicates itself to the flower: after a long morning ritual involving much licking by the stigma, the tenders apply petals to their sculpted bodies. But beware! One wrong-way touch of their shimmied velour outfits can end in grievous injury. Their footwear involves long heeled stinging thorns. Even their prattle is dangerous and can strip your bones before you know it. Only nectar zombies get off here.<br />
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Knowing my stop is next, I use deep jungle leeching techniques to move to the exit: I bite into the salty fleshy mass until my skin is released from mutuated suction. I have to repeat the process in the total obscurity until I reach the fetid pedestal by the out-hole.<br />
Passengers are screaming to be let out, others groan from the depressurization bubbles that push, pop and squeeze through them. Little gasps of rotten banana and aged kaki fruit break out of the bubbles then dissipate.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPoy6xkSoHwCbqxhvuwDyoIYZNFyABjckwhJ1R7WL7xzQwzZMEqBqwdEOFkjgAW-hbPwUr5u8-hSJEChkSXbFuPnSAv-Nq6KuxNN8IlTWZ20g1vKKk_hBaFF4sy2zPOj3l4qmHXXOYs8/s1600/Faces+by+Lilia+Mazurkevitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpPoy6xkSoHwCbqxhvuwDyoIYZNFyABjckwhJ1R7WL7xzQwzZMEqBqwdEOFkjgAW-hbPwUr5u8-hSJEChkSXbFuPnSAv-Nq6KuxNN8IlTWZ20g1vKKk_hBaFF4sy2zPOj3l4qmHXXOYs8/s320/Faces+by+Lilia+Mazurkevitch.jpg" width="271" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-small;">"Faces" © <a href="http://www.artofimagination.org/Pages/Mazurkevich.html">Lilia Mazurkevic</a>h</span></div>
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Finally, my stop. I struggle with the others to separate my limbs from the general mass and dive out with the ejection cycle.<br />
Steaming and jumbled, we pick ourselves up and apart. My skin prickles with habitual distaste as I witness the inevitable lump of random limb that sits congealing to the ground. Some poor sod is going to have to get a graft.<br />
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I gather up a deep breath of river pong. Even the black furry flies and tough corner crocodiles can't keep me from enjoying this. I know this river, this is my way, my territory. My friendly neighborhood stench. I dive in the thick waters and let my traumatized body float downstream as the glowing leaves above wash me with their cleansing songs of clorophyll and oxygen. Breathing deeper and stretching out of transport compression, I ignore the unidentified tangles of roots and eels that bump and nibble my fingers.<br />
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A foreign bird flits into my field of reverie and calls to me with clipped squawks. My neighbor. Ever-present. I can never tell whether she appreciates or loathes me. I've never seen her blink. I've never seen her ruffled. </div>
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I scramble up the banks, mud squelching between my toes. I stoop through the hole into my home, dripping all over the floor. My hair is pouring water down my legs, tantalizing and also slightly annoying. I should dry myself but first I must turn on the air conditioner quick. My skin prickles, but this time- with pleasure.<br />
I flick on all the house lights, the answering machine, my computer, the t.v. and throw a meal into the microwave.<br />
Hummm Sweet Home!<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrWkIb8xtgAIoIy2njEQt24r8M60omTIdYGCUvGR8wVgLTO9FABKqE57Ui2ULnANrNo8zFM5LSnKJCwWWlkiNIjW45Cp5Q9ABv41vO8MD72YQwutO6MYZ_8ruY6_jE6006HYOnH3aG8o/s1600/City+jungle+by+idogu.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVrWkIb8xtgAIoIy2njEQt24r8M60omTIdYGCUvGR8wVgLTO9FABKqE57Ui2ULnANrNo8zFM5LSnKJCwWWlkiNIjW45Cp5Q9ABv41vO8MD72YQwutO6MYZ_8ruY6_jE6006HYOnH3aG8o/s320/City+jungle+by+idogu.jpg" width="229" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">photo © <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/idogu/167497705/">idogu</a></td></tr>
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</div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-57640045706217890632011-01-05T02:20:00.000-08:002011-10-17T03:13:51.096-07:00Happy New Number 201102<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">numerical alchemy</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">music of the spheres</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">yearly incantations of renewal</span> <br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">a looking glass year </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">as two jumps into the whole </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">and splits into ones</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">ones bounce off each other</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">and become impregnated with potential too</span> <br />
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<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">---</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">one winter to another</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"> the purity and terrible beauty of life at a standstill</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">momentum lulled and colors buried deep</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">we wish you tenderness</span> <br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28bZX9XzcZPtyZdtkZGVOzqYgy6Ah3lNM9MiWVwI9Zrx9-avSdsfWXG66bpMplq84Q6kDe5pBNL0m77fPk_Ue4HrnTnBRFZa8eku2-meVAHAW-5ecZMMKcUR0crnawgv_l5S3P23Q36c/s1600/winter.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558645439769724034" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj28bZX9XzcZPtyZdtkZGVOzqYgy6Ah3lNM9MiWVwI9Zrx9-avSdsfWXG66bpMplq84Q6kDe5pBNL0m77fPk_Ue4HrnTnBRFZa8eku2-meVAHAW-5ecZMMKcUR0crnawgv_l5S3P23Q36c/s400/winter.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 49px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a></span></span>---</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">one spring and another</span> <span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">eyes and leaves open and shut and finally...blooms exploding to seed</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">the wheel revs up, colors alight and stick to the surface</span> <span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">may you humm with fresh energies</span></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAbtH_gSXXSprsJ_6l4R_0VCdgThhCIb4o6kjXViLHxz3q07HuYlIJPb9DxNgwyxD_s1zREUfSK2WF8CZ0v-YJLrXZuhWydLEqVGJovMrrgube2c2qbAxrjffmIKsujE06ccCO9xuIIo/s1600/spring.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558645849062803042" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRAbtH_gSXXSprsJ_6l4R_0VCdgThhCIb4o6kjXViLHxz3q07HuYlIJPb9DxNgwyxD_s1zREUfSK2WF8CZ0v-YJLrXZuhWydLEqVGJovMrrgube2c2qbAxrjffmIKsujE06ccCO9xuIIo/s400/spring.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 49px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">---</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">one summer so another</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">the complicity of heat, sharing of fullness</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">the apex critical with buzzing, beings plump with desire</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">this wish is for us, you and us, somehow somewhere, celebrating and cerebrating and coeurelating together</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9HQgvnlnjNfKC5a2t17TDQuxyAR-KtBZZG2tK5mpyLC8S8WzFmX2aEo-Ra9qMsPnuXJRxCF_fbSq4RJj7lBycnHVTS3cGEmYjKqoEGMIiKu8_qcn0ilobxAGFp6sHmSxp2LTi3L83Hc/s1600/summer2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558645970032842098" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB9HQgvnlnjNfKC5a2t17TDQuxyAR-KtBZZG2tK5mpyLC8S8WzFmX2aEo-Ra9qMsPnuXJRxCF_fbSq4RJj7lBycnHVTS3cGEmYjKqoEGMIiKu8_qcn0ilobxAGFp6sHmSxp2LTi3L83Hc/s400/summer2.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 49px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">---</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">one fall to the next</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">resuming movement, gaining speed and vision</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">the harvesting of mature dreams, the raking of old and faded ones</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">we wish you the strength and solace of understanding</span><br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytGXQ2S0vHQ7mjJl4Bp4FP8Pc9QBIBgzrkSdqzg3eT70-Z3UKTni_0guFrcAIg8I1wvP9MBth2RYy9uDJ825qoVygw9-bReLNnyrZO-KNQHPXnKyBAw-H_Z3hsutLo1FYBmyvu5pfdAI/s1600/fall.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558646090587341554" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgytGXQ2S0vHQ7mjJl4Bp4FP8Pc9QBIBgzrkSdqzg3eT70-Z3UKTni_0guFrcAIg8I1wvP9MBth2RYy9uDJ825qoVygw9-bReLNnyrZO-KNQHPXnKyBAw-H_Z3hsutLo1FYBmyvu5pfdAI/s400/fall.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 49px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">one to one to one to one</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">to </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">two to one to one </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">to </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">two to one to two</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">to </span> <span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">me and we and us and you</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">the dance of the cycles spirals on</span> <span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'trebuchet ms';">may the flow be with you</span></div>
</div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-18691787215373053552010-12-12T02:12:00.000-08:002011-01-05T05:00:20.925-08:00Jerry’s Games<style>@font-face { font-family: "Times New Roman"; }@font-face { font-family: "Arial Bold"; }p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal { margin: 0cm 0cm 0.0001pt; font-size: 12pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }table.MsoNormalTable { font-size: 10pt; font-family: "Times New Roman"; }div.Section1 { page: Section1; }</style> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>“You’ll get square eyes” shouted Jerry’s mother from the kitchen. “Why don’t you turn that thing off and do something else?”</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>“There isn’t anything else</i></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>!” screamed Jerry. Only four years old, but already he was back-talking like a teenager.</i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Thirty years later and Jerry was still hunched over a gaming screen. He tapped his square-rimmed glasses against the side of his head and chuckled as he rem</span><span style="font-size:100%;">embered his mother’s warning. His slight smile faded as the game turned and he sighed thinking she should have worried more about his posture. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">‘The hunchback’ was hi</span><span style="font-size:100%;">s nickname throughout most of the gaming parlors in Las Vegas. Jerry wasn’t really that hunched but it came to him automatically when he sat down to lose money. Or to ‘recycle paper’ as he c</span><span style="font-size:100%;">alled it in front of his daughter, Emily. Bright as desert dawn, the little 6 year old wasn’t fooled. But she appreciated his funny shame. Jerry’s wife, Linda, a</span><span style="font-size:100%;">ppreciated it much le</span><span style="font-size:100%;">ss.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Jerry’s favorite thing to do after a hard day of gambling, was to bring his daughter on a sunset roller-skating round of the neighborhood.<span style=""> </span>His back would straighten as he would get up on his wheels, ‘2x2’s he called them, old-school skates. Emily preferred the </span><span style="font-size:100%;">more modern inline skates. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">The first time they ever passed his childhood house, Jerry pointed it out. “That’s where Daddy grew up.” Emily scoped out the surroundings and as she wheeled around her father, she questioned him about his childhood: was this the street he played o</span><span style="font-size:100%;">n? How many friends did he have? What were his favorite games?</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj32CgqaHLTx6fp5aG0uskKCFf0ZJyXl62tTqAEXPKe4kDMH73Fiq5lTIX4dJ6PFwCrZee9HWxnC7P_LlruqpcjgJOtrWleWad56fQ_fNpksauZCOox2wWoFvQQF8NkrQGA-bT7mq7eeM/s1600/Jerry+game+blog.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj32CgqaHLTx6fp5aG0uskKCFf0ZJyXl62tTqAEXPKe4kDMH73Fiq5lTIX4dJ6PFwCrZee9HWxnC7P_LlruqpcjgJOtrWleWad56fQ_fNpksauZCOox2wWoFvQQF8NkrQGA-bT7mq7eeM/s400/Jerry+game+blog.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558643779433050498" border="0" /></a></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i><br /></i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>“There is nothing else!” Jerry screamed. But in the silent absence of response from his mother, while she played her daily bridge game at the kitchen table, Jerry gazed blankly out the wind</i></span><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>ow at the boys who passed by on roller-skates. Jerry had no such friends. Only the children of his mom’s bridge partners who would sometimes come by. They would play silently side-by-side, destroying each other on the video screen.</i></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i><br /></i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">It took Jerry all the</span><span style="font-size:100%;"> courage he could muster to rent the skates at the roller rink. Eighteen years old, but with the longing of a four year old, Jerry took to the rink and closed his eyes. His back relaxed upwards and he wheeled, for hours. At first he just let his weight bring him forward, round and round the rink, but eventually the blaring Michael Jackson tunes woke him up and his feet started to weave in time. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">“Isn’t it dangerous to skate with glasses on?” </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Linda was sixteen and very sweet. She would have to wait another sixteen years before getting bitter.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">“You been at it, haven’t you?” Linda began the tired old conversation like a ritual. Jerry had run out of all excuses and any explanations. He just looked at his wife, her exhausted face and clothes coated with waitressing and cleaning dreariness. He simply replied with his usual white flag: “I’ll make dinner.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">“You’ll end up losing more than just your games.” Linda was beginning to sound like a television public announcement. But Jerry couldn’t help it if he woke up every morning feeling luckier than the last, hungrier and impassioned for the potential fulfillment of a win. If he could only add another zero to his last big win. It was only a few months ago but odds were Lady Luck, or ‘Esmeralda’ as he thought of her, would release her little hunchback soon. All his years of praying silently would pay off and the big big win would allow him to do something else. </span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Jerry slouched into his seat at the Paris Las Vegas casino. He always avoided the high-rolling area around the ‘Salon des Tables’. He was superstitious about pretension. He wanted Esmeralda to notice him for his humility. He placed his bet and as his glasses slid down his nose, he heard the comforting finality of the croupier’s call: “Les jeux sont faits.”</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;">Nothing more to do but wait.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><br /></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;font-family:trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>When Jerry finally turned off his gaming console, he sat in the dark and listened to his mother’s friends babbling and clinking and shuffling. A cloud of mentholated smoke hung at the door. Feeling the emptiness growing around him, Jerry quickly turned on the television and stared. </i></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><span style="font-size:100%;"><i>“Well, this is something else,” thought the four-year old. “Isn’t it?”</i></span></p>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-20883717800500719492010-12-10T15:49:00.000-08:002010-12-10T17:53:38.689-08:00All You Do Is Done To Be Undone...................... (a skip-rop)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCF3xtBRFORErJQ5b2SM_gyMqkvHKS5Wp8iMd8rhSD631142WXAVXqEWrqGOuto7x7-8xvtPpJFkJmOWH-Ummc5veX8EAuX_OSgrAKr1Y05fkzA_YFgcdPAyZ2gLs2eRrNtHIF7d5LY0Y/s1600/DSC01130.JPG"><img style="float: right; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCF3xtBRFORErJQ5b2SM_gyMqkvHKS5Wp8iMd8rhSD631142WXAVXqEWrqGOuto7x7-8xvtPpJFkJmOWH-Ummc5veX8EAuX_OSgrAKr1Y05fkzA_YFgcdPAyZ2gLs2eRrNtHIF7d5LY0Y/s320/DSC01130.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5549236690469739186" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Es la hora</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">de devolver la</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">dignidad</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">a si, tierra</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Hemos cogido y ahora escogimos </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">nuestro debido en la semilla</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Olvidar antes de nacer</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">division, sumacion, </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">hem' crecido</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">mas grande </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">que </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">el nido</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">ahora volamos o callamos</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">desde las perspectivas</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">mas altas</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">los nuestros funden</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">y se confunden</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">desparecen</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">hasta </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">que en muchos</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">somos uno</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">y nuestra bola</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">si que mola</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">JODER</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">y tu, puto chulo</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">mordiente el culo</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">vete a la mierda</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">o hazte compost</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">pero con respeto</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">hombre</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">siempre con respeto</span><br /><br /><br /><br />(respect to La Mala y Bebe)serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-40359005010687108242010-09-04T08:07:00.000-07:002010-09-04T08:08:43.464-07:00Summer night's wishLast night I made a wish<br />a deep wish, with a roaring heart<br />and a face pressed against the night sky.<br /><br />The stars were moving.<br /><br />They fluttered and flashed shooting sharp red sparks<br />saudering the sky from point to point.<br />Planes connected the dots and<br />satellites held up giant webs to catch the constellations.<br /><br />We, prisoners of a dark orb, count up the points.<br /><br />Who is winning? Who is reveling in the bigger picture?<br />Who can draw an exact portrait of the vast night face from memory?<br />fugitive moments of oneness<br /><br />The step from you to a star is simply a question of fusion.<br />Fuse-one, refuse none, all alone<br /><br />As the giants dip out of sight and north becomes relative,<br />new stars rise over the horizon, riding red carpets,<br />lining our wishes with smoke-screened promises.<br /><br />We are closer than ever to the stars and yet<br />they remain just as distant.<br /><br />When we wake in the middle of the night,<br />what twinkles back our eyes, what hums the dozing song?<br />Images glimmer, smiles making money.<br />Windows reflect, transparency for our humility.<br />The doorway lets in love, random and true.<br />The roof remembers Pandora and sits tight.<br /><br />Last night, I went out and watched the sky dance<br />as the dogs wailed an ode of yearning to the bony moon<br />and I hummed along to the crickets rubbing out a drone<br />to rub into our dreams. <br /><br />Last night, I wished upon a plane.<br />And my heart and face and stars and gods<br />laughed and wept<br />until finally I slept.serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-28608912591458484692010-04-13T03:32:00.000-07:002011-01-05T02:06:13.693-08:00THE ORTIST<div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7IFIfCQWWSEhdcnQIOJPtUOQjqQZuxvtq442zmHP-Xup0YV5l_KICRVvMZ_rsTqlTWxtMQgcjYwu_tq5qjCY6Zl87cjyfnXuTitBb66SfS6F4xG5DnfKU1nL0K-dTRk8LAZif5eRk0kU/s1600/dragonscape.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 480px; height: 383px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7IFIfCQWWSEhdcnQIOJPtUOQjqQZuxvtq442zmHP-Xup0YV5l_KICRVvMZ_rsTqlTWxtMQgcjYwu_tq5qjCY6Zl87cjyfnXuTitBb66SfS6F4xG5DnfKU1nL0K-dTRk8LAZif5eRk0kU/s320/dragonscape.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5558640593122886802" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">~~~image by Masha Vasilkovsky~~~</span><br /></div><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >TIME: The Edge of the Last Fractal before the Next</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Bloom</span><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >PLACE: The Landspace Contimuum</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >1. Once upon a time, twice upon a time, thrice upon a time...that's six times upon a time now, henceforthwith dot.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >2. The Landspace was lush, the time planes were synchronized to a gentle buzz with flurries of excentricity and inebriating odors.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >3. There, was i me myself her she we us&them ours, not you yourself & they but you and all of us. you & me. flee. be. tree. 1, 2, 3. Ready steady go. No time is no time like space.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >4. Four, knock on the door. The time of the Ortist has come. The digits show the way.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >5. Messages from the stream. Order from chaos.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >6. So the landspace goes under attack and riproarers bellow, beckon, behold. The Rhizome uproots, implodes, rises to reveal our connection.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >7. Chaos to lyrical. Life teaches us to dance. Our teacher is the hub and the shuttle through the weave of our complex emotions. We follow her as she follows us. Our heads raised, faces upturned burnt by the sparks from our minds. Bodies spinning, intertwining. </span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >8. At night the bird beeps mournfully, a faint heartbeat of our vitality as slumber whispers in our ears. Reassures our realities that they are not intentional programs but real and honest, and random, and destined, and parallel and unprecedented. Interconnected being.</span><span style="font-size:130%;"><br /><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" >9. The Promised Land is molded into our own flesh and blood.<br /><br /></span><div style="text-align: center;"><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hO4qWYFMvWQrwrLiBixaNOuVBQ8YvJt5r9h3uv606kn4xxQhDOQ3tRpcGzuHOQsPDEi1PaXeF73u1vhdbbq-vbjT7xT__W5R4AHZRi-8mb6AmRFkaLDNmOBfMCRuq7AecfqID8YZBNY/s1600/22.jpg"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 420px; height: 336px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0hO4qWYFMvWQrwrLiBixaNOuVBQ8YvJt5r9h3uv606kn4xxQhDOQ3tRpcGzuHOQsPDEi1PaXeF73u1vhdbbq-vbjT7xT__W5R4AHZRi-8mb6AmRFkaLDNmOBfMCRuq7AecfqID8YZBNY/s400/22.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5459570089398739682" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">~~~image by Masha Vasilkovsky~~~</span><br /></div><br /><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:130%;" ><br /></span>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-62004856409194800752010-04-01T08:16:00.000-07:002010-04-01T08:20:54.689-07:0026 year old has been painting for 52 years!<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7gkGGl0ftNc291VOgR583V-gMe4TMmaSZD-4_D_Za0UoU6aMG5DJzwvfUdqkeYo0JH7xFPmsHER76uz7IpMvaqnXQ-J5h8UC-kClywuYZSIf3fGpF_5Ftn4l9nzEKSStGvDkgC5B06m4/s1600/DGoodeVamos.jpg"><img style="float: left; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer; width: 394px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7gkGGl0ftNc291VOgR583V-gMe4TMmaSZD-4_D_Za0UoU6aMG5DJzwvfUdqkeYo0JH7xFPmsHER76uz7IpMvaqnXQ-J5h8UC-kClywuYZSIf3fGpF_5Ftn4l9nzEKSStGvDkgC5B06m4/s400/DGoodeVamos.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455188774567141250" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />David Goode Hill is now 26 but it looks like he has been painting for 52 years. His oil technique is as sophisticated as his understanding of light, depth, and beauty. Revealing the refreshed talent now thriving in the Tramuntana.<br /><br />David was born in Valdemossa to an English mother and a father from Uruguay, and has squared his circle living and painting also in Deia, Soller and Barcelona.<br />At 13, he moved on from making murals in his bedroom, got on a skateboard and explored grafitti from Palma all the way to Uruguay.<br />At 16, David’s father gave him an oil set and off he went to study the basics for an art bachillerato at the Escola Superior de Disseny in Palma. But design’s hotflashes did not hold Hill’s attention like painting’s meditation did. He taught himself the secret to pictoral longevity and capturing light through oil painting.<br />From epic landscapes to psychographical portraits, from surreal adventures to minimalist impressions, David has already journeyed through a variety of genres and styles.<br /><br />For the last three years, David has been delving into the investigation of mathematical phenomenas such as sacred geometry and crop circles. His current project involves creating a holomorphic fusion between painting and photography. An analytical allegory in the form of geometric drawings floating in the middle ground, like a spectral presence, emitting their own energy.serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-69717530456185744252010-04-01T02:54:00.000-07:002011-10-17T03:20:41.693-07:00Rift into Spring<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqZSbEz8JpIfFHh3cTJ48xCUnsQF7i7Yq_sU91yIUvB4AbH0iSehVS5xI9Kk7zeRdxc-2JcVK9Q20AyqovocQ6pA5_M0NIGF-9ip3EraYRctBHWNhN-0Ff_cFmL8bXrY_b_5alW5zBppU/s1600/force+of+nature"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5455109995127668706" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqZSbEz8JpIfFHh3cTJ48xCUnsQF7i7Yq_sU91yIUvB4AbH0iSehVS5xI9Kk7zeRdxc-2JcVK9Q20AyqovocQ6pA5_M0NIGF-9ip3EraYRctBHWNhN-0Ff_cFmL8bXrY_b_5alW5zBppU/s320/force+of+nature" style="cursor: pointer; display: block; height: 213px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 320px;" /></a><span style="font-size: 85%;">"Force of Nature" by <a href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Qahira-Lynn-Dream-Painter/280116450094?ref=mf#%21/photos.php?id=280116450094">Qahira Lynn</a></span></div>
<br />
To reveal my deepest darkest secret, i have to admit that -yes- it is to live forever, however much it frightens me. But only on the condition that i don't get bored.<br />
Perhaps that is the purpose of death, to keep our eternal souls from getting bored.<br />
<br />
<i>I kept sensing something was coming. I dreamt about it. I saw it in other people's dreams. It was big. Bigger than my father's death. Wider than World War 2. And more invisible than the plague. Something we had to leap into to keep from getting crushed by it.</i><br />
You can not see it. It is a looming shimmering wave of consciousness speeding towards us, flattening all who are not ready for it to pass right through us. A path lights up from infinity's starting line to infinity's restarting line. The pull of the soul is irresistible.<br />
<br />
Call it death. Call it choosing life. Life eternal, instead of an endlessly ending end.<br />
I do love this life, all the way to the tips of its frustrations. The struggles have stories and the stories sustain us from silence to silence. The gentle pulsing heart of the universe climaxes with each bloom and recedes into the depth of the falling.<br />
<br />
We will leap together, we must, and trust in the innocent wisdom of our infant experience. Remembering the joy of rebirth. The desire unleashed for everything in this life. Stick those keys in my mouth and my fingers in the socket- i want to feel it all again. Being left alone to die. To hope and hope that one day that perfect life will come along, fill my heart with blessings and insinuate my memories with a craving for eternity. Wanting to want god. Wanting to want you forever and not wanting to want you. To have you, to be you, for you to be me, having me having you, having being....</div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-4255182053360971432010-03-01T05:05:00.000-08:002010-03-01T06:03:37.575-08:00The Show Must Go On<div style="text-align: center; font-family: trebuchet ms;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyryTIupLFkVli-LXerAjibVVqLYu-eEAThIRGytjm2DIMh0imZSl9sJBbZd40yDYcDG_xnQW1nETXwZgn6Lnnmvf3DPJrh4WhJjK-kqVMlfT168St4umgqhzdykubiV3qq3hywD1BFU/s1600-h/naufragee3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKyryTIupLFkVli-LXerAjibVVqLYu-eEAThIRGytjm2DIMh0imZSl9sJBbZd40yDYcDG_xnQW1nETXwZgn6Lnnmvf3DPJrh4WhJjK-kqVMlfT168St4umgqhzdykubiV3qq3hywD1BFU/s320/naufragee3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5443652257890129794" border="0" /></a><br />The shape of my life as I sculpt it.<br /><br />I tell you the truth over and over again and still<br />it bends over and back to lie at me.<br />Past promises have caught up to future hollows.<br />Will they be fulfilled?<br /><br /><div style="text-align: left;"> I loved you, stranger, when you first kissed me-<br />leaping lightly out of the darkness, dancing a random jig of joys<br />but then... disappearing between smoke and mirrors.<br />The line crossed from honesty to cruelty is where we play out<br />our blindfolded hourglass juggling act, catching and releasing<br />who I wanted to be and who you could have become.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: center;">You were calling it love<br />but i called it fascination<br />and so, we called it mutual.<br />You called it hope<br />i called it hopeless<br />so we called it love again.<br />You called it freedom<br />but i called it sacrifice<br />so we became territorial.<br />You called it family<br />I called it community<br />so we didn't know what to call him,<br />for a whole month.<br /><br /><div style="text-align: right;">Roots making me restless to find out what it all means,<br />to everyone, from everywhere.<br />What's around the corner? What's over the edge? How much can i bear?<br />You pulled out the chainsaw to help free me.<br />I dropped some seeds to anchor myself to the future.<br /></div><div style="text-align: right;">I have finally found something to do while they grow.<br />Keeps me from standing there, from getting cut down.<br /></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />I ride a unicycle in the show. The greatest show on earth.<br />On this unicycle, my wheels are made of razor blades and my spokes flicker and speak:<br />"Love > understanding > communication > contact > stutterings > silence > observation > suspicion > accusations > resentment > hate > denial > anger > guilt > compassion > empathy > realization > love..." and so forth.<br />I ride on a tight rope, and arrows come flying at me, rebounding off my skin and spokes. I am also made to sing to the melody of a violin missing strings. The squirrel monkey that hides in my hat holds on tight to my hair the whole time. Flaming hoops swoop down & across my well-timed path. I wheel through, towards a lion who awaits his dinner that has been tenderized by arrows and slightly roasted by hoops. As I leap from my cycle, I raise my wooden sword to parry the ninja acrobat sushi chefs flipping out from their cloud-bourne trapezes. The lion reaches out with maw and paw and I must quickly learn to fly if I'm to survive for the next show.<br />- Little monkey pulls the curtain-<br />Every night I beg silently: <span style="font-style: italic;">Please don't ask for an encore</span>. My heart teeters and my ego slinks down a sharp thread as the applause dwindles.<br /><br /></div>My life is shaped by the lights I shine on it, entrust to my synapses and transit through perception. A bio-dynamic hologram emitted from the spinning diamond of my soul.<br />So, why manifest? Why use a time-line at all?<br />Being requires an improvised story weaving into other stories to manifest the sheer joy of experiencing the full capacity of the source. Does thinking make this carpet magic or am I just romanticizing our dusty destinies.<br />If, and, or, but- conjunctions of reason leading me to folly.<br />What if the shape of my life ressembled chaos?<br />And what if the shape of our love could ressemble the peaceful patterning of that chaos into a harmonious resonance, echoing across creation, arcing the light softly smoothly<br />around the universe, sparking soul fires in an infinite dark void crawling with possibilities.<br /><br /></div></div></div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-63337529803782007992010-01-31T09:38:00.000-08:002010-02-07T13:57:30.666-08:00(take the r out of boring)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXNAP-p2C3wPoUlI-DMHXLzE0vFlEaBfbFXaQjAdLNvsPkXNLN3tdu9SLZKWiAEfmurkwxNO1oRQGXoDFsXmOH6AvhxTjTAmsVQHzFy3D9O3_4UzsfdI-BqvzAEpALOV-zoVq95bQaR1k/s1600-h/breakfast+at+the+plaza+10.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 150px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXNAP-p2C3wPoUlI-DMHXLzE0vFlEaBfbFXaQjAdLNvsPkXNLN3tdu9SLZKWiAEfmurkwxNO1oRQGXoDFsXmOH6AvhxTjTAmsVQHzFy3D9O3_4UzsfdI-BqvzAEpALOV-zoVq95bQaR1k/s200/breakfast+at+the+plaza+10.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5434884934097376594" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;">A Russian absurdist performance piece collaboration between distant & recent past versions of me.<br /><br /></span>Sybil still had her coat on as she lounged on the humid bed to write. The lice in her head were numerous but something new was chewing on her.<br /><span>"</span><span>Hello? Who's that in my head?</span><span>"</span> she wrote, surprised to witness her hand respond.<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Why, it's me. Sub-text. The writer's companion. I will be your assistant, noting and commenting on everything you experience</span>."<br />"Ah." she sort of exclaimed, (but what she really meant was "And whyyy would I want you around?")<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I can deepen your meaning."</span><br />"Oh." (Though what she thought was: "But...I am therefore I mean.")<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I think you´ll find that in writing: you </span>mean <span style="font-style: italic;">therefore you are."</span><br />Sybil was flustered as much as a russian immigrant can be and, biding for time, she wrote down Sub-text's comment while trying to figure out another nickname- Subti? Texty? S-T? STD? yesss, STD. Sub-Text Discourse. Sybil was also trying to figure out whether or not she really wanted a narrator to hitch onto her implicit life. Or was she simply afraid to know thyself? She could hear STD cracking up. Sybil got to her feet and whilst wondering where sub-text began and she ended, she decided on a test.<br /><span>"So, are you capable of helping me out with this humor thing?"</span> (What she really meant was: "Can you give me what i want?"<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"I can only do post-treatment. Reflection. Digestion. Afterthoughts. Etc. With maybe just a hint of anticipated double-entendre, if you know what YOU mean...that is."</span><span><br />"Figures..is there anyone else in there who can give me a hand? My funny side, maybe? A gag writer lurking in the wings?"</span><br />There was a long pause. STD reflected that Sybil could hear her uncle Sadge having a coughing fit next door. Unable to find a remedy over these past few months, she just wished he would be quiet.<br />Hard to be funny when you're trying to keep control.<br />"That's a start! Enough with linear reflection." Sybil changed tack and reached for the old radio, turning up that old song to the maximum static threshold:<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >It's all about timing (teeda).</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >It's all about giiiiraffes.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >It's all about jews and the bush, </span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><br />blondes and the tush. </span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" >(Tada dada dada DA!)<br />It's all about... idiosynchrosy (teeda).</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><br />It's all about falling so low </span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><br />that the hit makes the punchline </span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><br />bring home the shame to you,</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><br />but ob-ject-ivity makes for</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><br />levity</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><br />'cause sooner or later</span> <span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;" ><br />you'll get hit with tomato</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:verdana;font-size:100%;" >and the fool who'll be singing iiiiz you!</span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><br /></span><br />While STD was concerned about what was going on, trying to get a handle on Sybil, she was off to make sure Grandpa peed in the right spot. Any and every moment was ripe with humorous potential but our long lives give our innocent joys an improper mangling. Sybil didn't feel like giggling at Grandpa's forgetfulness- today the plant pots, tomorrow the umbrella holder. She had sub-text on her mind, and this STD was back on track, paralleling and countering all her rapid switchbacks.<br />But then STD flinched. Sybil was reaching for a poem... oh no! not a poem!! Sub-texts don't know what to do with poems. THOSE intercourses just lead to a squash-ball game in a hall of mirrors!<br /><br />Sybil knew she had got STD into a corner. So she swallowed the poem and ran off down the stairs, jumped on to her bicycle and rode with the flowing night air. STD was worried, fading, awash with the shallow current, the present reduced to an all-encompassing bubble of time. It's all about timing. If there is no later than now, then who needs sub-text. (Unless you're lloking for sex, of course!)<br />Sybil rode and began to rave out strong & loud to get the pretext to initialize instantanealism with the mutter of the beckoning rhythm and the sacred incantation of the poem:<br />(take R out of boring)<br />(take the R OUT of BORING)<br />(TAKE the R OUT of BOrING)<br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-style: italic;">Ahhhh, the froggy smells of spring spring to my nose</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">like welcome doglicks lapping through an avalanche repose.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">Ohhhh, the blinking carlights light up their turning flanks</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">like anxious children tugging at their parent's pants.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />The seasons and streets alternate pulses pulsing nervous air</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">like red and blue blood chilling heat flashes thru my hair.</span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">The well-adjusted street clocks mark marks in my bicycle's belt</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">as the wheels reel past tttttick-tocks bouncing off the cobblestone's pelt.</span> <span style="font-style: italic;"><br />Gingerbread regurgitations rise forth frothing tasty bubbles </span> <span style="font-style: italic;">into my low-hanging raving sleepless mouth starving for a jam-colored pillow.</span></span><br /><br />And so it was that STD subsided, disgusted. And so it was that Sybil did not know what to think anymore, and felt at peace. Chaos. She had found the vaccination for her new fever. Yet a little voice could be heard whispering into the fractals of her mind:<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">And so, what did you mean, anyway?"</span><br />STD had a little weapon of its own, doubt. And so it was that Sybil's bicycle veered off course, and she found herself plopped into a pile of droppings. One of the old poos cleared its' throat and declared: 'Sometimes, you have to laugh to keep from crying.'<br /><br />(poem written in 1995, piece written Feb.1 2010)serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-58674328221035477532010-01-20T03:16:00.000-08:002010-01-20T03:42:42.707-08:00New York to Mallorc’<span style="font-size:130%;"><span style="font-weight: bold;">An Immigrant's Journal<br /></span><span style="font-weight: bold;">(aka: Freedom Takes Discipline)</span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Eve escaped New York when they began the fear experiments during the gULF wAR under the regime of bUSH the fIRST. They continued the horror movie under bUSH the sECOND, after a brief cLINTON commercial break. And Eve swore to not touch American soil until it was purified by the tears of remembrance for a dream of peace, fredom and happiness for ALL. But the newest suffering of veterans and distant victims made their tears the blinding kind. What you can’t see, you won’t believe but Eve had seen enough to break her faith and her pride for the U.S. of A.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Eve used to love her country of birth. She even contemplated enlisting in the National Reserve Guards at some point but her peace-love side revised the thought and came up with joining the Natural Reserves Guardians. She applied and received a post at Bryce Canyon in Utah. But Eve was a red-head and often changing her destiny as an experiment, she ended up giving into her teenhood ambitions and went to art school.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >Nothingness. The moment between hits and highs. Eveything is okay, not great but not terrible either. Just another Limbo Bimbo.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Eve burned an amber-scented candle in her room. The cats outside were in rut, scrowling in the shadows. Winter seemed tired, drained of sharpness, and Spring was not ready. Is this living between climates changing neutralizing our torments into insipid grey streams of half-breathed air?</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1trUmKYn1JUPpIo43Zg9CTVkHFfBpHmGzpgFQUA1H8JvNucoCFii4f7qM68_OHFkE31SOBdFrQO1QbRHBNxCNliiVKyeG2CghPPr_h8CikHd2OrkxDZYeDH-hanM3olEmloyuUDzyREs/s1600-h/Basta+Urbanitzar.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 222px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1trUmKYn1JUPpIo43Zg9CTVkHFfBpHmGzpgFQUA1H8JvNucoCFii4f7qM68_OHFkE31SOBdFrQO1QbRHBNxCNliiVKyeG2CghPPr_h8CikHd2OrkxDZYeDH-hanM3olEmloyuUDzyREs/s320/Basta+Urbanitzar.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428779961987194338" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Eve observed the human-shaped dinosaurs and decided she was not going to let herself let them. In whatever way she could expose their selfish ambitions, she would graffiti, curse, commentate, share her rage at the constant wasting of her new-loved land. She would not let it happen again. She saw it happening. Was it too late?</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Mallorca was a resourceful Mediterranean island full of peasants and seething with a cornucopia of seasonal celebrations. Mallorcans were self-sufficient as island folk can be: joyous/hot-blooded/hard-headed as the occasion requires. But then came the cold grim tourist.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Full of burdens to unload.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> <span style="font-style: italic;">Uptightness. Low pay. High inflation. Rain year-round. Trip to the woolied sheep and verdant hills once a spring-time. Then grind, grind, grind. For what? Paper clips, an appropriate tie, four disconnected kids to care for. </span></span><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWr-549iiv_uLexY04EXM0wHL-lV9Ujn_FN3MiW2i56GvRahSnmV9-Q7W-pxS9GZtA3REC6kmpyiMK2MSqvELdN0KAKSaMhAZL8IG78PvJyGq4WGCEL9FHwbuQq2DG61WyHJla9WSZUk/s1600-h/mallorca+meat0.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNWr-549iiv_uLexY04EXM0wHL-lV9Ujn_FN3MiW2i56GvRahSnmV9-Q7W-pxS9GZtA3REC6kmpyiMK2MSqvELdN0KAKSaMhAZL8IG78PvJyGq4WGCEL9FHwbuQq2DG61WyHJla9WSZUk/s320/mallorca+meat0.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5428779963521893922" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Here everyone could play out their posh fantasies: Daddy got to play cards and drink in the afternoon. Mommy got to swim 15 laps and get a manicure in before souvenir shopping. And the Snots were untouchables, keeping the hotel crew running for their meager seasonal pay. So the grim tourists fell in love and brought their grim existences to the island of the goddess.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> <br />Like a woman, this land is a treasure chest of hidden surprises and rich promises. A tour around the island takes a few hours but knowing it takes a lifetime. Lady Mallorca is fat and full of heart and strings and horns. The Tramuntana range rears up as a warning to not try to ride this cow. Just pay for her to go to pasture and mate. Once her babies have drunken her sacred nectar then, maybe, she’ll start to negotiate the leftover milk with you.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Eve has let on too much already. Stop. Don’t come. She wants to be the last immigrant. She wants to keep it whole in honor of that dream childhood that was wild and time was free and all were awed by the extreme demanding beauty of the land. As a girl, Eve mistook that particular dimension for the whole reality show. She was sure everyone in the world was Mallorcan, or at least wanted and strived to be such. But, no, it was not the way out there. She yearned and prayed and manoeuvered to return for good. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Finally, at the chi-filled age of 31, she did. And never looked back. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Mallorca is hard as the omnipresent grey-white-red rock that has helped build thousands or even a few million terrace walls. Stepping across the terraces are the vegetated feet of the gods. Sweat from these awesome stalkers is called olive oil as in “O, live!” The locals call it the elixir of life. They live old here. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> But locals they are not. Being local is their becoming. Most of all Mallorcans are ship-wrecked, treasure-seeking, situation-thrust aliens. Their ‘spanish origins’ range from historical immigrants from the south of Spain all the way to northern Catalunya. Then there are the jews on the run from the inquisition, to Moor babies turning more Mallorcan with every passing generation, to pirate spawn surviving on the fast and low trade of thieving forgotten treasures. Later came the French orange and perfume traders, the German and Swedish luxury refugees laying low in cheaper luxuries, and the English numbing the safe grounds. Meanwhile, the Russians are sniffing out the fresh prey, the Chinese suction-cup web expands within, and the Americans are ready to regulate while the Belgians buy out land for Saudi investors. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Mallorca is gorging on homo-diversity and the rampant artists are sucking honey straight from the royal antechamber of Europe. </span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Eve has got lice. Since fucking August. That was one of the worst months of her good life. The heat was penetrating. The whole other side of the family was everywhere in the house. The lovely young ones galvanized the elders into healthy outdoor activity but there was that deep gagging cough that was going chronic. And there was the show to put on: loads of artists- all women, all amateurs, all accomplished. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> The morning of the show, he strangled Eve twice by mistake. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> They hear arguments like this every Sunday across the orange grove when the taxi driver stays home. Him, the obese son, the very unhappy wife and the elegant big black & thin dog shout, scream, bellow and bark for care and attention. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Now that she lives here, she has come to dread August. Now, she understands why her father dreaded them. On top of working and having the family visits, August was the only time of year when things were really hopping. Parties, events, beach clubbing, dinners, reunions, hangovers and stoned resolutions to change the world again. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> <span style="font-style: italic;">Meanwhile, they all grew up and grew old. They became legend, another row on the millenary olive terraces, while a new growth gets their chance in the sun. </span></span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Mallorca takes her time to choose you even after you’ve fully embraced her. Ten years is considered an adequate trial period. Meanwhile, the homework of your immigrant children is in Catalan, they speak Mallorcan and you realize that slowly you have managed to learn the three requisite languages of the area, including Castellano (calling it ‘Spanish’ would be considered an insult.) This is how it works over the years: you see each other at the market, at the playground, the shops, during the annual village fairs, at church on Easter and dancing with the devils on St. Anthony’s day. You lose a dog- meet and speak to more ‘locals’, travel hidden paths, learn the philosophy of the work horse. You stroll with your baby- advice and wistfulness flow from the older ladies. You walk into the mechanic’s shop- no one stops to attend you. One year later, with your first baby steps in Catalan, you come back in, holler “Uep!” and all heads shed their “what-do-you-want-and-let’s-see-you-try-to-get-it” masks. The treasure chest loosens its locks. Doorways became entryways to multi-leveled worlds. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Mallorca decides on you when she feels you are ready.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">So, what was Eve going to do about the wasting of Mallorca and what right did she have anyway to try and do so? </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Walk more. Talk more Catalan. Drink orange juice everyday from the trees on her property. Distribute the rest. Release the healing and all-worshipping images of her deceased father. March. Inform and get informed. Flush her toilet less. Boycott the megacorps taking over the mami and papi shops. Befriend the critical.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Exchange: knowledge, art, car motors, ski trips, a crib, some shutters painted. Everything is on the table in this land of illegal need and plenty. The garbageman is now the mayor, and will probably retire with his cokebag nice and full. The medecine merchant has his nicotine patches. The doctor grows his own herb. The policeman is coming off a night on ecstasy, but willing and able to solder cementary stones for poor artists. But the insurance agent isn’t going anywhere, his wife has moored him to the dining room table. Someone knows where the kids are and everyone else is busy dancing.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">“Paradise if you can stand it.” Commented Gertrude Stein when she visited.<br /><br /></span>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-28791873710840351512010-01-04T13:09:00.000-08:002011-10-17T03:24:10.488-07:00“Haven’t you got old eyes?”<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJcr0eDd-oy5CKp4LyK9PkGxEVsr93k8PHCpFwsUeASgOt9tICJbDp5T7XQLaX96GuKiBawrSorFfG3hZ_4Lr0MSVtoKj448kdx7KLfTCBqkLhXL6Dsj0YyOEXiUXnQPwt6Aa_H0_ygI/s1600-h/07102007092.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422996186248242018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKJcr0eDd-oy5CKp4LyK9PkGxEVsr93k8PHCpFwsUeASgOt9tICJbDp5T7XQLaX96GuKiBawrSorFfG3hZ_4Lr0MSVtoKj448kdx7KLfTCBqkLhXL6Dsj0YyOEXiUXnQPwt6Aa_H0_ygI/s200/07102007092.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: right; height: 150px; margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; width: 200px;" /></a><br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Here and there, 1984-2004</span><br />
I wanted to see more. And clearer, and further.<br />
To see without my glasses preciously placing a frame on every moment. Or else preciously getting crunched under greater weights like my car wheels or even under my own shoes.<br />
To see without poking my eyes out every morning, placing in lenses that made me feel like I was placing acid tabs on my eyeballs- everything everywhere always in too much detail. But a visual orgy with eye condoms is a lonely act of perception. I wanted to see naturally, without filters.<br />
To pass acquaintances in the street and acknowledge their names, rather than answering a surprised and muffled “oh, yeah, HI…um..” to their distant familiarity. Shyness and stutters masking my myopia.<br />
I kept losing my little brothers at the beach among the multitudes of blurry human forms. I wanted to have my own child and see that child, no matter the distance, no matter the crowd. I was ready to cut myself at the risk of going blind, so that I could see, maybe, that child. A small risk and yet it seems greater when you willingly place yourself in harm’s way. And laser! How could slicing open your eyeballs be safe? Isn’t that the image that haunts all self-respecting surrealists? Well, the statistics and testimonials were convincing, so, like childbirth, if so many had done it before me, why couldn’t I?<br />
To see, that was the answer.<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Barcelona, Winter 2004</span><br />
The first clinic could easily have been a failed teleport station with its lonely modern furniture, fraying from cheapness. The long strips of swivel-closed beige blinds enhanced the sensation of floating through space. Wan tunes wafted fuzzily from somewhere else that was also empty. And deep inside a dark room within the mushroom-shaped building, a sweating accountant tried to toggle the jammed knobs, desperate to send the next client into the next century. The secretary kept looking and smiling at me- not a good sign. Shouldn’t she be otherwise occupied with obscure tasks? There was nothing much to look at after a while and I was losing my motivation.<br />
This was not where I wanted to experience my visionary renaissance but I stuck with it, as one does when committing blindly to finding out the proverbial light within the darkness.<br />
“How many people have you operated?”<br />
“What are the dangers?”<br />
“How long does the operation last?”<br />
“How long do the new eyes work for?”<br />
“Have you ever been sued?”<br />
Oops, poor red-faced chap. One question too many. The wrong one to ask in Europe. The indignant eye-surgeon did not answer my question. “Either you trust me or I can’t operate on you.” Phew: relieved of the sales pressure. Start over.<br />
<br />
I finally found a place that conveyed to me the promise of skill and the best choice of intentions. There was beautiful original paintings all over their modernist office walls. Dark wood wall panels and deep green carpeting muted the crisp bustle of the clinic. And the leather-clad waiting rooms were clean, well-stocked with entertainment and packed with people. I was seen on time and all my questions were attended to. I was examined, tested and approved.<br />
Okay. Before christmas. Let’s do it.<br />
<br />
My bigger little brother brought me to the grand hospital on the hill. He was to be my guide on the return trip. Balty is younger, but it was his usual princely poise that made me get stoic. I smiled as I left him and faced the operating room of five professionals all there for my eyes only.<br />
The rest of my body faded away from consciousness as they isolated my eyes. ‘Clockwork Orange’ clamps were applied. Machines whirring and spinning around the periphery of my sight. An injection in the eyeball. Eyeball anesthetized and immobilized.<br />
One machine purrs as it slices a hatch around my cornea. Everything goes blurry as the flap is lifted. Okay, okay, breathe. Good, I can’t feel a thing. The laser comes in at an angle, soft red. IS THAT SMOKE COMING FROM MY EYE?<br />
Buñuel, eat your eyes out! I am the living future of your surreal dream come true! Grandmother! I will avenge your blindness and leap out from the darkness, with eyes fuming!<br />
Flap down. Next eye. Slice, flap, laser, smoke, flap.<br />
My intricate body machinery being tuned and soldered. God forbid they mess with the hardwiring- mistakenly wiping out my childhood dreams. 10 minutes later: eyes bandaged and I’m out. My brother laughs nervously. I must have looked fly-eyed and Oedipal. Adrenalized, triumphant but somehow… wrong. We come from a family of vision worshippers. Does he think me strange to do such a horrific thing to myself?<br />
Balty takes me on his arm through the subway. Smells are promoted to the forefront of my senses. I am practicing being blind, just in case. The smell of urine means a wall. The smell of newspaper means a person. The smell of chewing gum and rats means the traintracks. The gust of wind means the subway is arriving: step back.<br />
Half an hour later and home, my bandages are off. I can see. Perfectly. God, my apartment is dirty. Naturally. Thanks to microbots, seeing naturally. This seeing is just as good as the first day of the rest of my life. No one will escape me now. Not even me. I have no more excuses to be anti-social, drive badly or live dirty. Balty looks relieved the potential drama was not played out. The answer has been answered and the suspense is over.<br />
<br />
When I go to my check-up later that week, I can see all the paintings in glorious detail. The effect is like that of a reunion with long-lost loved ones. It is possible to love again as before, to be close even from far because I can see every excruciatingly wondrous detail of life painted into matter, just sitting across the room, spying on all my brain desires.<br />
They give me a video tape of the procedure which to this day I have not looked at. What a peculiar parting gift for my vulnerable new eyes. They work. That is all that matters to me. I wouldn’t have minded if they operated on me with chopsticks; as long as the science works, my trust remains whole with the world. Before, we saw and we conquered. Now, we are made to see and we are conquered. Enlivened by energy.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Mallorca, 2010</span><br />
A curious coda: my three year-old son insists on changing my eyes every morning. Something he picked up after seeing the movie “Wall-E” where a robot replaces his own broken parts. I happily accept the daily eyes and really do see better after I am reminded that I have a child to look at and to look after. What I envisioned has come to be.<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-weight: bold;">Post-face</span><br />
How much further beyond the event-horizon can we truly see if we are willing to take the risk of reviewing ourselves? How are we surviving in a present that knows so much about the past? How can we get to the now with such a weight as the then? Reviewing my current present, just where CAN I see myself ending up?<br />
<br />
I can see myself, surrounded by a thousand lasers, carving into me, refashioning me into a glowing smoking sculpture of my former self- changing my nature, burning away my discomfort, placing me in the garden of lights.<br />
Beyond form, there is intensity. And beyond intensity, there is impulse.<br />
I think you will find me there, my heart beating out a regular stone-wave of ultraviolet flashes reverberating amongst the vibrant jasmine and the glowing coconuts of the disco in the night jungle. Other ecstatic wave-forms dance beside me beneath the chaotic skies.<br />
And you, in what future can you see yourself appearing ?</div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-68627165445337172072009-08-29T08:19:00.000-07:002010-02-25T08:29:40.610-08:00Treez pleez! Ain't just money growing.<div style="text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvrkV5egnCtSXWBlgajILQDTDcKqKapwPuRy_0V7E_c2eelfULSRnBf3Z0laVlH4ZFIpn1QQxHadEbYvUScOiiIvrXJsOzlgKqmJhh6E-q2Hyk-BnOOPeTEnUXnXQR-Xc1lSU8NuZANlU/s1600-h/monkey+tree.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 303px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvrkV5egnCtSXWBlgajILQDTDcKqKapwPuRy_0V7E_c2eelfULSRnBf3Z0laVlH4ZFIpn1QQxHadEbYvUScOiiIvrXJsOzlgKqmJhh6E-q2Hyk-BnOOPeTEnUXnXQR-Xc1lSU8NuZANlU/s400/monkey+tree.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5442216812396685650" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">THE PRICE WE NOW HAVE TO PAY to watch the moon and stars</span><br /></div><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">is measured by the parking meter at the recycling center.</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Our cancerous politics have the trees to their knees.</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">Nest eggs, lightning, roaring winds, </span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">buzzzzzz, hurt, ROARRRRRR!</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">(wait, wait, pant, pant, wait....Now!)</span><br /><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms;">I would tell you what i really thought of you if i was sure we would end up in bed- sheets of money and licorice pillowcases. But i know we'll be wiping each other's asses soon enough with grand-daddy trees. Saplings grow to urinate against. So i'll wait it out and wake up with everyone to watch the fiercest dawns coming with a yearning unspeakable</span><br /></div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-74188879769257425372008-12-24T16:12:00.000-08:002011-10-17T03:26:33.675-07:00On the forgiveness of violence<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX0LPG9QA4GWr_lbv-5zb4SUTAYtvA_laXydptPi-qy_TuyrgDLwNrn3K6g-_-4rDHN0vSU-PvpI71f6Zz-QC-4lTiMu_4STPPDgg7lnEPgW6rJWAjgyDW2z5Hom-P7VAqcNaXlTL6yHg/s1600-h/donkey1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5283518065409548274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhX0LPG9QA4GWr_lbv-5zb4SUTAYtvA_laXydptPi-qy_TuyrgDLwNrn3K6g-_-4rDHN0vSU-PvpI71f6Zz-QC-4lTiMu_4STPPDgg7lnEPgW6rJWAjgyDW2z5Hom-P7VAqcNaXlTL6yHg/s200/donkey1.jpg" style="cursor: pointer; float: left; height: 167px; margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; width: 200px;" /></a><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
forGiveness should be the last resort, not violence. violence should not be a resort, it should be a horrible, twisted, decadent thing that should be avoided at all costs. and yet it is here, it exists on all levels - physical, mental, spiritual, societal, global - operating in self-rationalizing systems. like addiction. and like an addiction, it requires maintenance. lower the stress by letting it out, letting it in. but we must let it go through without letting it cut us too much. and forgive it as it runs away, to hide under a big heavy rock, or a book, or a whisper that is heard by the desperate.<br />
in forgiveness, lies the action. in violence, lies the stillness of the aftermath- the reckoning reaction.<br />
i fOrgive, i forget but i will recognize you if you resurface. the curse is binding unto it's own aptitude for self-destruction. violence is worse than a fire that can't be put out. it burns not only through matter, but also through human history and earth history ( not sure yet if they are completely integratable histories though my mind is not broad enough to see the inter-workings of our cosmic web of atom-weaving.) So through time would this fire burst an ozone whole through our souls. forgiveness mends with an enlightened thread - healing and renewal.<br />
my soUl asked me: are you feeling good? happy?<br />
i honestly answered: so-so.<br />
soon i hope to say: so so good.<br />
and forget to remember, though i coulD if i had to.</div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-6687413246032221912008-11-14T12:19:00.000-08:002008-11-14T12:29:05.600-08:00like the hole<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQo1dCN2Iu4UXKHOTkxCzr3ycPECsMc58I4M187dXjyAFWOlewdbueSxEyqH1CEMLnAbd_QgiuRQdPGJJwkk1NtQVHSkCUxpes_Yf92VOhK1zPGIbBWSheI483v4I1TqDOUo5zLxV61lk/s1600-h/picnic.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQo1dCN2Iu4UXKHOTkxCzr3ycPECsMc58I4M187dXjyAFWOlewdbueSxEyqH1CEMLnAbd_QgiuRQdPGJJwkk1NtQVHSkCUxpes_Yf92VOhK1zPGIbBWSheI483v4I1TqDOUo5zLxV61lk/s320/picnic.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5268612588774421026" border="0" /></a><br /><span style="font-family:lucida grande;"><span style="font-size:180%;">w</span>hen the bee and me<br />fall from grace<br />the <span style="color: rgb(51, 255, 51);">flowers</span> lose their <span style="color: rgb(255, 153, 102);">face</span><br />and i just make dough<br />french style<br />sour and pungent<br />enticing plumes to<br />solidify ceramic<br />in the belly<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">scrape me</span> <span style="font-style: italic;">scrape me</span><br />pollinate and mate me<br />life is never ending<br /><br /><br /></span>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-86569843361435096902007-05-04T11:29:00.000-07:002010-01-04T12:16:11.925-08:00Our Emerging Being & the Fearlessful Soul<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpCJ66uQLaC00Gp2iXaDMut3cKW2XnmXYPQzN-BMep0ic9-B3mCDehQHzjzSPtt919GbnVZk5WUzaCbwad9oaCsOciractBL58tk_n2S05yf6L6gJnD8xuMPE7LRLvTD1PZQN_4t-vB8/s1600-h/meaning+of+life.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 181px; height: 200px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMpCJ66uQLaC00Gp2iXaDMut3cKW2XnmXYPQzN-BMep0ic9-B3mCDehQHzjzSPtt919GbnVZk5WUzaCbwad9oaCsOciractBL58tk_n2S05yf6L6gJnD8xuMPE7LRLvTD1PZQN_4t-vB8/s200/meaning+of+life.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5422972679020642658" border="0" /></a><br /><div style="text-align: left;"><img src="file:///Users/gaterz/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-14.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/gaterz/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-15.jpg" alt="" /><span style="font-family:arial;">Like cells mytosing, we humans are evolving into a greater organism of our very own.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">Giant leaps... leaping from societies of fire into a global dynamic powered by electricity... leaping from abstract fresh baby through to wise old person... leaping from the earth to the stars.</span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><br /><span style="font-family:arial;">How does it happen?</span><br /><br /><img src="file:///Users/gaterz/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-16.jpg" alt="" />Consciousness fitting into new molds. Leaps of faith or of understanding or both? Or more? Quantum leaps? Nutritional leaps? Neuronal leaps?<br /><br />We will come to peace when we know what part of the organism we are a part of and essential to.<br /><br />We will start to be full of care when we realize our health depends on the whole health, the bigger health.<br /><br />We will take responsibility for the energies we attract and presence we project.<br /><br />Different religions may actually be a fight for directions to define what mold the emergent being will seek.<br />The changing momentum of emergence, like labor pains in birth, are heralded throughout religious history:<br />Some call it (almost sexually): the second coming.<br />Some imagine themselves reborn onto giant lilypads, dining upon grapes under starlit women.<br />Some see a spiral of reincarnating beings trying to evolve to higher selves.<br />Others see an apocalypse of humanity (though it has never been clear whether it includes all living beings.)<br />Some see zillions of personalized paradises.<br />Some see a single pulsing white-hot sea of love.<br />Some see a reunion with all their riches & properties forever theirs.<br />Others see transcendence from physical materialism into sheer spiritual ismlessism.<br />The battle is on and the competition is fierce, hungry for adherent souls.<br /><br />The whole quest may be moot-<br />It is a distraction from the only reality proven to us all:<br />the breath of now, now and now again and again now...<br />For me, the real question and answer remain here on earth, now in this life.<br />How do you want to live now? Do you want to survive amidst violent pollution?<br />Or do you want live within simple love & pure joy?<br />What are you going to do to get there?<br /><br />Daily tips:<br />- Fear neither others nor yourself. Resonate and elevate.<br />- Watch where your bullshit is leading people, or better yet: where it is leading you (mosquito bureaucrats spreading viruses thru fly-shit paper for power pushers.)<br />- As Annie Sprinkle says: Breathe. Say yes to bliss. Ask where are our monuments to happiness.<br />- Act responsibly towards all life, enjoy the harvest of the cycles we ride, the waves we surf and the tides we create.<br /><br />I think we get the picture now. We are getting far too numerous and divided to continue as such, we must orgasm as one to create a fully activated & empowered world being.<br /><span style="font-family:arial;"></span><img src="file:///Users/gaterz/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-10.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/gaterz/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-11.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/gaterz/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-12.jpg" alt="" /><img src="file:///Users/gaterz/Library/Caches/TemporaryItems/moz-screenshot-13.jpg" alt="" /></div>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-78013806863582216522005-07-10T02:26:00.000-07:002010-02-02T02:39:39.961-08:00Why do birds migrate? (why fly?)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXAvLkqG6HkN1HdNWGV_z3Niu8XrovQQ_tG8yT5PRCT-idWDAQ_WthIAvo00mcVfa_dUMysWGI2ZVOpyARFjd0gPA6f7JxOYbSM2dcliQCOLJZH0T2dI1X4EYvz4HymkxycxA0PlCdp8/s1600-h/ostrich.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 134px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEXAvLkqG6HkN1HdNWGV_z3Niu8XrovQQ_tG8yT5PRCT-idWDAQ_WthIAvo00mcVfa_dUMysWGI2ZVOpyARFjd0gPA6f7JxOYbSM2dcliQCOLJZH0T2dI1X4EYvz4HymkxycxA0PlCdp8/s200/ostrich.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5433590899981977954" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family: georgia;">BECAUSE IT IS A GREAT WAY TO LIVE!<span style="font-family: lucida grande;"><br />A true higher conscious experience of life, so removed from our destructive stasis of defection from the mud (which is where we really emerged from dust to dust, and water to mud, and light to clay, time to movement and space to play.)<br /><br />Imagine flying...first of all. Whoever invented that finally got it right. Ask the angels. Ask the flies.<br />Then imagine flying over the whole world, hugging the terrain yet keeping far enough away to simply be cradled by the whispers and long flows of the wind.<br />Then, on top of it all, you CAN land and walk around, pecking at juicy exotic bugs, feasting on the ripening of fruits, and you CAN also float and feel the sea bucking, picking up fresh sushi from the freshest and most remote spawns, lakes and tributaries.<br /><br />The cream of this traveling existence from gooder to goodest comes with the finding of the old familiar neighborhood of the ancestors, finding the tree branch or nook to build a cozy nest, and it's hump, hump, lay an egg. Then it all starts over again!<br /><br />Why do cranes migrate? Pffff, what a question!<br /></span></span>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-67423536775355468032004-11-30T08:22:00.000-08:002010-01-15T08:42:52.218-08:00The Enlivening Art of Laetitia Bermejo<a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhfF2GVJGgjlnstcKDJG6Jx2tf5pupbnrIMXv828e_WkUt0uBMHDscsJM9hEOh-WJwHImBEuGrXZs_S7mFLAOed69eh8ZbhB5aQ4QFLO_l43oQPkJFDCMecLsaBC2oFpI0z58ctGKVDI/s1600-h/girl+and+tiger.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 147px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUhfF2GVJGgjlnstcKDJG6Jx2tf5pupbnrIMXv828e_WkUt0uBMHDscsJM9hEOh-WJwHImBEuGrXZs_S7mFLAOed69eh8ZbhB5aQ4QFLO_l43oQPkJFDCMecLsaBC2oFpI0z58ctGKVDI/s200/girl+and+tiger.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427003531813036210" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Laetitia Bermejo Castelnau is an electron dancing on the provocative edge of the atom. Bermejo has a talent for loosening taut nerves that constrain judgment, and allowing for laughter to enter the equation. Personal visions result, as waves of pigmented colors and descriptive intensities radiate from her artwork to tickle our neurons. As viewers and thinkers, suddenly, we feel more alive.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">Laetitia Bermejo’s work is a growing organism- part mineral, part vegetal, part animal- whose leaves and limbs are all equally nutritious. Her visual production ranges from painting to assemblage to travel journals to installations. Her hands-on experience with her subject is tangible to the eye- you can feel the original impulse morsing through, her representation still attached to its roots and growing into our heads. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> And there you are, turning and returning, to see what Laetitia has seen, to feel what she has felt, and to breathe free for that moment, savoring the ambiance- that perception for you from you sinaesthized through the filters of Laetitia´s extraordinary extrapolation mechanism. Parts moving independently. Her mind discovers fresh shapes from used ones. Her hands transcribe anew the mental imprint of a much-visited global reality. Her fingers massage our eyes and thoughts as they work their universal significations. And so begins our journey into this artist’s realm.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zj-isBpZERtYGx4fxNugauC_FaPwCE7m9nYN9ffY5CfYna4KPogL5EQ9B95NmEdxo1tEGUf1k8spsJG9JQ-_wgmFHp6D3N2zDcTbOgcPcc7IaLSKBE7ziY4VYDllJBlFSLYxGbkAcIY/s1600-h/meloncitybox.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 198px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zj-isBpZERtYGx4fxNugauC_FaPwCE7m9nYN9ffY5CfYna4KPogL5EQ9B95NmEdxo1tEGUf1k8spsJG9JQ-_wgmFHp6D3N2zDcTbOgcPcc7IaLSKBE7ziY4VYDllJBlFSLYxGbkAcIY/s200/meloncitybox.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427003536861086658" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">For many years, Laetitia Bermejo has painted the wild and willing figures she met and knew in many places around the world. She trained, swam and flew, bringing her pen and blank book along. She has sat and walked and drew, her life as a poem with her paintings as her song. </span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> But one day, the music died down, as did many beings around her, retreating into the shadows as the colors drained from the world, and the painting stopped. While warlords fought over humanitarian aid, Laetitia picked through the reminders of her life, and of life in general, and she came across object-events and the threading of synchronicities. And so, she began sewing the pieces together: assorted stone hearts woven into a mandala, the real glamour Barbie from Chile refrocked as the imagined (though much too real) Mujaheddin Barbie, sheep bones dug-up sewn into the skeleton of a new christ incarnation. The ironic as irritant, humor as a punctum.</span><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> Piercing through the darkness of the newspapers, Laetitia Bermejo salvages glimmers of meaning. Why transcribe a sad situation? So as not to ignore it. So as to reconsider it. Why paint a joyful moment? So as to remember that feeling. So as to enjoy it again even if you were not there. Laetitia is an observer and a provider in this cycle of life and art. Sometimes she sketches the basics of a moment to expand it later upon canvas and sometimes she just observes a situation until she can’t take it in any longer then goes to work. Capturing the imprint, retranslating it without the mundane details, and reworking it until the expressivity convinces her hypercritical eye. And then, it is yours to plant, water and watch. A fertile emotional intelligence downloading its silent action, leaping out into our passive observations and stirring us up.</span><br /><br /><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms;" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVPRXnzEDumE4Ik5FhFESDdV31FSJHuIbw-Dsq8HzY1XyGj7EN7VEqiUPyhMYVea9dUwuYSykyM0YNOTPpprVWD6SE5FrilrwirFXGqs4Ihnl0t51-vHQxCM1BVVDZqioFimvLrzXa-E/s1600-h/mirada+medina.jpg"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 200px; height: 130px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPVPRXnzEDumE4Ik5FhFESDdV31FSJHuIbw-Dsq8HzY1XyGj7EN7VEqiUPyhMYVea9dUwuYSykyM0YNOTPpprVWD6SE5FrilrwirFXGqs4Ihnl0t51-vHQxCM1BVVDZqioFimvLrzXa-E/s200/mirada+medina.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5427003543702882386" border="0" /></a><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">My imagination appreciates being invited into such full moon paintings- where the whole neighborhood is dancing, cheek to cheek, junkie to drunkard, mama to papa and all the habibis running naked through the woods, howling alongside unladen women. And my intelligence enjoys the freedom of the morning-after, awakening to such sun-drenched assemblages- where the hangover of opinion tans to the sound of a soothing but irrefutable dripping of glass, where the superiority of judgment is squeezed into an equality of questioning as our earth dries up and Bermejo throws in her juice.</span><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"> And while Laetitia Bermejo´s paintings flicker and giggle, her bones hum. And the song returns- </span><span style="font-style: italic;font-family:trebuchet ms;" >qué vive</span><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">.</span><br /><br /><br /><span style="font-size:130%;"><a style="font-family: trebuchet ms; color: rgb(255, 102, 0);" href="http://www.facebook.com/pages/Laetitia-Bermejo/58974256220?ref=ts">TO DISCOVER MORE & START TO FEEL EVEN GOODER THAN BEFORE, CLICK HERE</a><br /><br /><br /></span>serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5895741537499339955.post-66493254882726568661994-01-26T12:45:00.000-08:002010-01-05T06:17:36.662-08:00From the State that Brought You Ronald Reagan and the Beachboys, Now Comes a Whole New Kind of Rock'n'RollValencia, CA.<br /><br /> We just had another tremor. I was waiting in line when a total stranger clutched on to my arm. I was about to confront the person when I felt my legs dance from a completely different order, not originating from my brain. Then all was back to normal, we smiled at eachother and kept waiting. It has become commonplace to have the earth turn liquid on us, just as liquid turns solid with cold.<br /> A week and a half have passed since the 6.6 earthquake of Jan.17. Our school is located right on this previously unknown fault line. The epicenter was 10 miles away, in Northridge, where three-story buildings became one-story, parking lots folded, gas mains broke causing block fires, a whole university was condemned, thousands became instantly homeless from house damage and fear. 2,000 aftershocks registering 2.5 or more have been recorded. The earth has tried to shake us fleas off but we have held on and now mutated back into ants, we have almost resumed life to normal- clearing freeways and providing water at amazing speed. About 50 people died during the earthquake. Others live stronger.<br /> Sleeping in my pick-up truck last night (which has suddenly become the envy of many), I woke up to what sounded like an underground implosion- >>FWAH-BOOM<< from the earth- I woke up afterwards but had a lucid retroactive memory of it. Kept looking out my windows for a gas fire between moments of sleep.<br /> My institute has yellow police-ribbons going all around it as though a big bandage keeping it together. It is "red-tagged" for the moment. No one can go in until the city says o.k. and the school president says o.k. and the provost says o.k. and our dean says o.k. And with each aftershock over 3.3, the whole school has to be checked all over again and then o.k.s, etc.<br /> Two dorms are condemned- they moved a foot off their foundations- very drafty. More homeless. Porta-toilets provide resolution for tight-leggers who don't want to run off into the sparse woods. A tent city has been established as our new campus. Still no gas and water and the coldest weather of the year and rain and no mail. But we are alive, even the two iguanas belonging to Jill from downstairs. (They were very very stiff and unamused when they were finally found, clutching to the corner of the ceiling.) Nerves are still taut, chairs are knocked over at the slightest shake, muscles are sore from tension, conversation is distracted by thoughts of ceilings falling.<br /> People testify about the earthquake any chance they get, hoping to rid themselves of the experience by spilling it out their mouths. Most were asleep at the time but no one remained that way. Some thought this was their time to go, some got under chairs for a moment of safety-training insight, others thought they were being attacked and beat up, one girl was certain she was on a boat in a storm as a glass of water poured over her, and three different people have spoken about how they believed they were being possessed- Meholtchick thought the same and when it was all over he asked his roommate whether it was him or the room that had been possessed. One girl got spliced by falling glass, in her painting studio, and dragged herself out of the building, naked and bleeding, then fainted outside. She returned to Canada. Michael went back to England. Lourdes back to Mexico. Laoora back to Iceland. And others back to Germany and the East coast. Withdrawal rate has gotten to 25% so far. School will be extended by two weeks and will take place in rented and donated places around Santa Clarita valley and Los Angeles. The president of the school, Steven Levine, even talked of relocating our entire school, this semester, to the Lockhead Missile base, which would give us a cafeteria of 10,000 sq.ft. and a fabulous security system. In case you have thought of renting this place at some future date, it costs $250,000 a month though they might give it to us for $125,000/mo. And they say there will be no tuition hike! They didn't get any earthquake insurance because of the small deductible= ten million dollars. One generous parent has helped with a $10,000 donation which will help in keeping this private institution greased for the lengthy and costly work ahead- they are talking of tearing down and rebuilding damaged foundation walls.<br /> I just had a class in a storefront, which made our discussion on consumerism take on a ghostly shadow of the whole situation where education becomes a product rather than a process (many people are withdrawing because they don't feel they will get their money's worth- very valid but relative.) Luckily, this shake-up has brought us ALL, students-staff-and faculty, to the same level: smelly, cold, and clueless. Resourcefulness and improvisation have reclaimed the importance they should have in every day life. Maybe that is why the lecture seemed so much more engaging.<br /> Because I did not experience the most severe earthquake (I was long-weekending it in San Diego), I may perhaps be feeling survivor's guilt and I have consequently had a very impressive dream that has brought my mental faculties to a state of empathy:<br /> [ In a green and misty land, much as I imagine Ireland to be, I was having breakfast in a country-style diner. I was with several friends in this crowded place, all obviously unable to eat at home because of the ravages of the earthquake. The diner was on a small cliff, perched over calm grey waters. It was located at the end of a rolling stretch of lawn and in between several hovering barn and silo structures.<br /> Once in a while as we were eating, somebody would say "What was that?" We would freeze, hear nothing and continue eating. The tremors grew a bit then dissipated. But my nerves synapsed harder each time and I excused myself for air. Once outside, a thunderous earthquake began. I knew I would be crushed under the shoddy thin-walled barn if I didn't get out of my spot. The earth continued to pitch and I realized I could only move from the petrifying centri-gravital force if I moved in the same disorganized fashion as the shakes. I had to get 'in tune' with nature. Once I was out of danger from being collapsed upon, I then realized that the earth was cracking open all around. Again I had to dance the quirky earthworm to remain on the few integral islands of land. The earth kept on shifting and I looked in all directions and recognized that my relative position was safe, then it all stopped.<br /> People shuffled out, zombie-eyed, from the diner. I asked my friends if they paid the bill and was a bit annoyed when they said no. They requested that we leave away from there, maybe over to Antartica, and off we went.]<br /> Why don't we act upon our dreams? What if they are they indicating resolutions to our fears or intuiting the future? Well... people argue there is natural danger everywhere: some freeze for months, others die of thirst or flood, fires lick the land clean and winds coat it with disarray. Though sometimes it seems like Los Angeles submits to all of these and more (are riots natural outbursts?), our greatest disaster takes only 30 seconds of our time- talk about instant gratification- and then we are left with nothing. None of this nonsense of endless days of cold stripping away our defences, or of water inching up the walls, or of wind battering at the door. It might wake us early some days, like 4:31 am, but at least it's an efficient monster and makes its point quickly. Though some of us are still waiting for the punchline.<br /><br /> May this new year of 1994 prove to be as peaceful as it has proven to be exciting. The balance already seems to exist in nature, it is up to humans to fit in. It seems the only real control we have is self-control.serafine klarweinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16198862234032013924noreply@blogger.com0