The return

Autobiographical blogging feels like going back to Catholic confessional.
You feel compelled to confess, feel cleansed for having done so, then later wonder if
that priest really is trustworthy. Cyberspace is no priest. (Maybe that's a good thing!)

I stand poised at mid life, looking back over the past and it is quite a spectacular litter
of intense fiery passions gone awry, misadventures in exotic locations, promises made and broken, spiritual highs, alcoholic actings out, parties with hellaciously funny people, quiet moments with inspirational surrounds, nutty workshops to improve my nutty self, social networking with some very anti social beings, showbizzy "look at what I can do" narcissistic gatherings. I've worn many masks, drunk many drinks, entertained many philosophies and had many lovers. I've been hurt and betrayed until I thought my heart would burst, and I have been hurtful and betrayed others.

I feel like I've been climbing a mountain these past few months and I am standing on the top looking out at the lifescape below. It hasn't all been bad. Memorable moments like questing (no food or water) for four days in midsummer in Michigan woods in Native American way.  There were sweat lodges, sings, pow wows and drumming- oh how I loved that drumming.  There is the time I camped out under a full moon with mates in the middle of a dry river bed in the Northern Territory on route to Roper river to spend time with the loving Aboriginal mob there. That was a life changing experience, a turning point in my life. I had yearly walks at Gwongerella taking in the eucalytpus soaked air as trod the circular path underneath the waterfalls to the rock pools below. In stand up and acting, there were moments of sheer perfection, when you just rode the energy of laughter and reaction from crowd/mass spiralling upward into happy happy...(and ofcourse the funnier but more humbling times when drunken mobs revealed their underbelly and sank their teeth into your act, tore it apart then ate up your ego!)

I had a solid family foundation. Childhood was happy with simple summers of pulling bindiis out of feet, hopping across hot sand dunes to get to a salt watered ocean of foaming fun, runs to the shop to buy hot fresh made sausage rolls...weekly picnics with family, usually with an ant bite drama, or some small mishap that had us irritated then laughing at the end of the day.

I'm standing on the mountain.

I'm looking forward. There is still life ahead. There are still adventures. I don't seek to repeat some of the old lessons. It is the quieter stretches full of spiritual promise and emotional maturity that beckons me now. It is time for me to be kind, to myself, and to others. It is time for me to listen more carefully, speak less, but more clearly, to put the passion in my creative works and not towards men and relationship. It is time for me to stop seeking a beloved and allow one -if out there- to present themselves. It is time for me to live in ease and peace. The wild ride of my youth has come to an end. It's time for me to let it go.

It is time for me to forgive old grievances, and let the bitterness melt butterlike into the
sweet past.

I am blessed. It is my family, it is my friends who have sustained me through this long journey. It is those bonds I treasure and want to nourish. In all journeys, eventually there is a return. It is time for me to return the love.

I had a dream

There is what you want, and then there is what is.

"What is" is the hardest thing to face for idealists
like myself.

I am not blessed with the noble dreams of
a Martin Luther King...

I had a dream recently where my subconcious
revealed so much ridiculous content.
My ex husband, and rebound boyfriend stood
together in a darkened room
lit overhead by a flood light. They both held
shotguns by their sides. It was
as if they were displays in a waxworks
museum.

I was crouched in a darkened corner viewing them.

I remember saying to myself in the dream,
"Is that was what I was afraid of?
Squiddly diddly and Jabba the hutt?"

And I then opened an escape hatch in
the corner of the room behind me
and crawled out.

The dream ended. (with no credits!!)

Who knew my subconcious could have held
onto such sarcasm? But in the dream it was the
sarcasm that led me to escape. Or maybe in the dream
I saw things as they really were. I had given away
such power, such love to characters who really
weren't worth that energy.

I had been intimidated by their threats: threats
of abandonment, physical threats, threats of
witholding love, threats to my emotional,
physical and spiritual wellbeing.

What was that? Love? Or a bizarre addiction to
pain that I have had? Why the need to prove myself
worthy of love to those incapable of giving it?

When I google searched for squiddly diddly,
I found a little smiley faced octopus creature
who tried in vain to get fame and recognition.
It fit the description of my ex husband quite well.
I was amazed to find that I had held onto the
memory of such a cartoon character. I had forgotten
it even existed.

The tricky part is acknowledging (as with all dreams)
that every character in your dream does represent
an aspect of yourself. So I have squiddly diddly
and jabba the hutt male energies.
I have people pleasers and people
consumer energies present. I have threatening
qualities that I have to work with. Where have
I hurt and/or threatened others? Where have I
behaved like a two dimensional cartoon?
Jung where are you when I need you?

I hope the escape hatch means I have removed
myself from these static energies. Now that I have
named them and observed them (still and waxlike)
I am capable of transforming them into
more nobler aspects.

Astro boy and Luke skywalker perhaps? Atom Ant and
Milton the Monster?

Who knew that my love life would have come to
have resembled a cartoon?

I'm still grieving over these energies too.
Ridiculous grief....Betty Boop in mourning.
Lots of listening to music, sexual naivety and
blinking. Innocent and imagined
powerlessness.

Bring on Roger Ramjet.