October 22 2018

Kavanaugh Spiral

It’s like watching a bad movie on repeat, so much time lost, useless, carelessly thrown into a hole that leads to nowhere. Nowhere but the same sphere, the found nothingness of drowning in shameful abandon. Abandonment stems from this hole, this space where actions lead to a numbing incubus. An emptiness, a trying to conjure, a hoping to conjecture, a needing to do something—anything to rise from this place. Feeling so far from myself I don't even know who’s inhabiting my body. A visitor they say, to this planet… okay. Yet since I've begun truly to know the home within my soul, this visitor, the one who takes the reigns without warning or me having any say, this is the death wish of sorts—the one who comes with no regrets or restrain. This whole week as I watched the Kavanaugh case come to pass, saw history repeating it’s stupid ass story, I thought it was my feminine crying. My anger would be a well, reaching into the core of the earth, one far too intimidating to open alone. So I let it fester and rot, tainting this week with a sore, seething open wound that painted the town red. Anxiety filled the screen, I was pulled into a judgment zone. Everything was wrong, I was bad, I am bad, I am useless, nothing is in motion to make things better. We are doomed. My brain came up with a million and one things to distract me from the truth of what was occurring. To reclaim my will, and center, I travel towards the pain that I hold in my body, rerouting the story towards feeling rather than numbness. For always on the other Side of pain lies love, but numbing only creates more disaster. I thought all week it was my feminine crying, for all of my sisters and brothers who have born the weight of what the patriarchal system has the power to manipulate. To resuscitate this family from the state of compliance is the only way to combat this. To use breath to ignite it, to wiggle around and rely on this motion of motion. Of chaos finding explosion. Of joy and laughter to unsettle these hinges. To break each and every old religious hinderance. To dance with the power that moves through me, to not turn away from all I am and the potential within me. To embrace, to face, to ask to walk with grace… to learn the ways of a united soul. Untied and untethered, the return is slow, it’s taken years to cope with suffering the blows. As privileged as I am, to have access to the tools and the wisdom that’s rising, I bow in humble gratitude and an unrelenting vow of responsibility. To come and share, to step out of my bubble and understand that I'm being prepared. That my masculine in fact was the one in tears, this week, this month, who knows how many years? My spineless existence, made me practically miss my essence. I could kiss it in moments of bliss, know that that was the reason to exist, but felt so often I never saw what others could. I would look in the mirror and yell dirty awful things at the woman looking back, the reflection not matching my desires or heart’s yearnings in fact. Facing each day a mirror that couldn’t have possibly been my truth, I can’t even tell you how many layers I've been through, how much pain I've self inflicted, maybe not with a tool, but words were the original daggers. Thought created the universe, and with something so powerful without being told it’s use, I misused, I abused, I was the source of my disarmed hatred and a sad excuse at being a loving being. I am taking responsibility for the bad behavior…

I would stuff myself to not hear the voices, to have a moment of distraction from these judges—which would in turn only bring more. I would gravitate towards men who just made the space to express my body’s rhythms (which is all I ever wanted anyway), but they didn’t stick around long, and I would be left most times feeling more empty than when I began. It all shifted in Spain, when a spaniard stopped me while having sex and promptly said, “I'm sorry but you don’t know what you’re doing.” I, baffled and almost humorously replied, “excuse me?” “No, don't get me wrong I mean, you’re ‘doing it right’. Like if I took a picture of you every second you’d look great…like, if I took pictures of you in every second you’d be ‘doing it right’, but you have no connection to the language happening inside of your body. You’re just trying to do what you think I want.” It was in this moment, 2 years into my study of media studies, that I realized just how deeply the influence of our visual world has on the experience of being human. Everything from the shape of a book to the look on a man’s face relays so much information. Looking into our world, there is much to be gleamed from whatever scene your eyes may be on…a seemingly endless amount. The colors, shapes, textures, imprints, motions, gestural languages, glances, everything has a symbolic meaning. Not to mention auditorially, the sound effects that we are exposed to on a daily basis is only growing in vastness and complexity. The mind becomes absolutely absorbed with what's in front, behind and on the sides of it. For me, I now understand how much I allowed this external to imprint and draw me from my center. Out from my body and into my head. I became so absorbed with the top half of the experience of my own humanity that I had almost completely numbed and deafened my own truth into an obliterated hum.

The layers shed from my voice, are plentiful and abundant, stripping as each day goes by.

Healing is not only rainbows and butterflies, though that is part of what’s to come. ..The process itself, is a slow, at times tedious and painful discovery, of how far I could leave myself behind. Of how little I cared, loved, or was compassionate for myself. How I was not only part of, but created the violent narratives of this time. Gossip, self hate, worthlessness, and judgment are just as fucked up of a narrative structure as any other, and I take full responsibility for what I've created in the past.

I only hope I can leave the past where it’s meant to be, behind me, in full light, acknowledgement and forgiveness.

I haven't blacked out from alcohol in almost 3 years, and for those who knew me, this used to be a weekly or biweekly occurance. Such whistfulness and playfulness was what I thought I was doing, I was the life of the party, what could be wrong with that?

But waking up next to men that I didn’t even remember meeting, putting myself semi-willingly into such danger and into unforeseeable circumstances against my will was painful. Waking up in the morning was a nightmare being played out, there was laughter, sure, but the kind of laughter that is only shared so that it hides the pain of what’s beneath it.

The roots of the word alcohol, are from the Arabic word al-kuhl, which literally means ‘body eating spirit’. It was also shared with me just recently that in alchemical practices (as well as medical and medicinal), alcohol is used quite literally to extract the soul essence of an entity. In other words, alcohol takes the spirit out of the body. As soon as I heard this, it was as if a tunnel of wind swiped through my whole body. I could finally forgive myself for doing so many things that were out of my alignment. I didn’t have to hide, harbor, and rot in the amount of shame, guilt and remorse lived within my bones and muscles. I could release myself from the blame because I understood the system behind it, another mass manipulation underway. Taking siege, from our right to this vastly rich human experience (if only one can sensitize itself to it). Since reshaping my relationship to alcohol, the whole world has changed. Life is more beautiful, and I have attracted people who meet me in intimacy rather than belligerency. Interactions are much more fulfilling, fruitful and frankly imbued with incredible meaning and worth. Each of my nights are remembered in full, allowing teachings of the dark to creep in whenever possible, and being allowed to receive these and act accordingly. Understanding my own actions in the underworld as I'm living fully alive in the essence of the night magic. Evading the hurt of the past, but blazing full on towards the future, these new experiences I was allowing made way for the highest of highs, higher than I could’ve even begun to imagine.

6 months later… looking back at what i’ve written, I also would love to note that I just took a test that notified me that I am allergic to alcohol… what a great way to release the guilt I carried from this time!