7 October 2009
Breathing through it all…

Two days ago I shaved my beard. Or as I had been thinking of it in the past month, my tranny safety blanket.

Yesterday I had my labret (1 cm below lower lip) and left tragus (that flap on the center inside of ear) pierced. When they heal, they will be replaced with gold. My labret is a reminder each time I look in the mirror of my work as an oracle, and the power of my voice and all I share on the world and the individuals I will touch every day. My tragus is an amplification, a tool to let me hear all the more the power I have, the strength of my journey… signal clarity mixed with hearing true the power I have.

I am getting constantly “she”d since shaving the beard and cutting my hair short. I also miss stroking my beard. I have looked myself in the face, literally, bald and bare. I love who I am, but I like myself bearded better. It will be coming back. Today I am stubbled, and good with that.

Last weekend I learned more in 3 days about teaching and touching lives than I have in the last few years. I am doing another experiment intensive in Salt Lake City in November, different this time, and I will learn more. Together I will take those lessons and make my own intensives, and I know this is where I need to go as an educator.

Today I held back tears as someone I adore told me they loved me and yet, and yet, I know so strongly that the world between us will never be the same again, sleeping clothed in the same bed.

Today I panicked about my journey of health, about my journey in wealth.

I dreamed up new ideas, embraced fears.

A few days ago Amy and I turned over new leaves, added “unpacking” to our list of needs… unpacking our lives and lessons on occasion so we can see what each of us is carrying, so we know we are carrying forward clear and loved.

I realized how profoundly comforted I was by she and I having less drama than I have in other relationships in my world.

Gold echos, gods, gold glows.

I had a friend call me on the fact that I was describing some of the deities I work for as dark and scary, using outsider language of who they are rather than who I know and experience them to be. I had not realized until then how deeply it had hit me that someone I respect had asked me at Dark Odyssey about my spiritual path, and said at the end that she and I were on different sides- she Santeria, I, Voodooo. Her white, mine not as much. In her language, not mine. I had really internalized that voice, for a lot of reasons. I felt judged, and was carrying that judgment.

I am so blessed by those I am collared to, those I serve, those I who have chosen to touch my life. I am proud of the Work I do for them, who they are, and the Work I do in this world. And as I type this, tears trace their way down. Their way out.

It has been a hard, beautiful, amazing, powerful, touching week. I have woken up, I keep waking up, and keep evaluating who I am and what I am doing. And yet I am so tired, so very tired.

But I am also oh so amazed by it all.

I have knitted pie, stars inside stars, and locks with a myriad of keys.

I have a mother who knows all my health and work and faith stuff and still stands there… even bought me a wreath to commemorate me keeping on living and kicking ass.

In just over a month I will be turning 30. I am looking forward to leaving my Saturn return and embracing the fullness of my journey. I open up my arms, keep an ear tuned in, and embrace the fullness of my journey.

And am really grateful for rice milk mochas at the moment ;)