a ball of mud…

When I was a child, I knew I was supposed to save the world. What if….that world….was mine. Not the big ole earth world at all….but my every day survive and thrive on planet earth world. Even younger than my perceived knowing age(which was 11 or so), at age 5 or 6 I made a ball of mud. It was the earth. It was perfect. It rolled under the fridge and my mother refused to get it for me. To me, it was my first art. And to me, it was the earth. I was a devastated little child. Well……after breathing for 54 years, I just realized that my life has evolved backwards. I am the ball of mud. The perfect sphere. Worn by tiny fingers, pressed, smoothed till just the right perfectness…..that accidentally rolled under the fridge. In the dark, where it’s been….I’ve been, for all these years. Fresh clay. I had the desire and impression that a new me would step in….i yearned for it so. It has been revealed to me that it is not someone new going to magically pop in and take me over….nope…..it’s me………changing and literally morphing like a butterfly. Changing bodies. Changing everything. After the changes, I realize that I is gone and I is here now. I and I have been here all along, but now we’ve been put through a rock tumbler machine and have come out polished and smooth. Haha, no, I’m not polished or smooth….rather wrinkly and rare, but the analogy works. Kinda like the diamond….sitting under a rock….pressure pressure. My life has been the rock and it’s been lifted and I’ve even been given wings in this newness. Expect change people….expect change. I may duck out for a bit to sit in silence with this soft smooth ball. See what it wants to become.

I was literally waiting for this strange woman to swoop into my body and rescue me. Take over and do the job of being me Right!!! Finally! I told you I could see her and even feel her for the tiniest of seconds while I was stomp dancing at the Womens Gathering. Yes indeed, I did indeed see and feel her. Who was she? Heck if I know. What I now realize, how silly I can get, is that nope…..this body is it. This me is it. It’s what I was given to work with. However, this me….has just been given an overhaul. Due to first the magic mushrooms last year which precipitated me quitting smoking and drinking……then the ayahuasca…..the kambo frog and rape powder, and then to the soul work with Rhonda Myers…….the me that I was……has been mostly wiped away. Conquered. Leaving us with the wet mud ball. Wet clay ball. The perfectly smoothed, velvety soft pure potential, bubbling out of its own ness.(beingness) Forming, with every new zip of the new wires within me. New wires, new codes, new programs, new thoughts, new dreams. New frequency. New song. Wings intended.

As I face my past and slay demons and dragons of old, I grow stronger, better, faster…lol, bionic!!! As I have aha after aha, the weight comes slithering off. This soul work takes the sting out of life. These words create within my body the feeling that has no name, no description even….just familiar and oh so intense. Actually, the feeling came with my next thought, which was………earth…dirt….takes the stinger out, allowing the wound to heal. Interesting that I am in the ultimate dirt right now. Rain forest dirt. More than the dirt, it’s as if Mother Earth herself has put me in a cradle and is rocking me to sleep. Placing sweet dream whispers of fairies and mushrooms, butterflies and hummingbirds, weirdo bugs and ayahuasca gratitude….into the blanket of love placed on me while I sleep and grow. While I become. Remember those cicada bugs born here that I was waiting on their morph? Nope. I was wrong. They were not cicadas….and they were already done becoming. Morphing had already taken place. Wings there all along, just hidden. They can fly. They just choose to stay home with their family. They stay together on the their tree of life. It’s their homebase. They are my teachers. Everything outside is my teacher. The flower that drops a seed that is eaten by the sloth that is pooed onto the leaf that is food to the mushroom that is the internet to the trees. If I stomp, my energy vibrates. I quit stomping. I went from waving my umbrella through the plants, whacking them as I yelled, “I’m here, I’m here”. …..to wearing forest colors and cloaking myself. Change you say? Why yes, thank you, I believe I will.

(Tough life in the jungle. Look, this one has lost an eye, poor baby…plus, as you can see, I can take a photo…but sometimes, I want to share with you what I’ve seen but all I got is the blurs…)
My next session with Rhonda will not be fun. They never are. Hard shit. Hard dry shit with hemorrhoids!!! Lol. I’m going to tackle the issue of rape. Why have I been raped so much? Bullied so much? Abused in every way,….so much? I remember the book from school, The Scarlet Letter. Well, I suppose mine is V for victim. Correction….WAS. I hereby cease that now. I place a violet flame around it to transmute it. I am a being of violet fire I am the purity God desires. Night night. Feria Day is now over, fruits have been bought, four or five Tico’s have been met,(YAY!, I love getting to know the locals….and letting them get to know me.), pancakes were had, the rains have poured and the sun has just about gone to sleep.

When I came to earth, I wanted to see how it felt to be NOT well loved, to NOT well love the self either, to be ignored and disregarded….Ok fine….I get it. Thing is, what now? What now, now that I know the plan? Cuz if the design is for it to remain this way…well, I’m not that good an actress and this is a sucky thing to do to a character. I mean, do I just stop bothering? If I know nobody will care or only a few will even see? Do I stop speaking? Being? It’s enough now. I’ve seen, I’ve experienced. My friend today was scrolling through the texts between me and my husband. She looked up and said, “He ignores you.” Yup. Every day and the next and the next and the next. Someone very close to me says my energy is too strong. That when I get upset and speak…..the energy is attacking. You see my passion as an attack on you? That is very difficult for me….especially when you know I would never hurt you. So is lying. Also pretending. Sweettalking, kissing ass, sucking up, eggshell walking…………………..I am so done. All of these things are signs that I do things I don’t want to do.  Thus giving up my power. I can’t do that anymore. Not right now. Little girl gone. Also, I’ve had some situations lately that I swallowed like a good little girl and y’all are in the dark about them. Sick of swallowing too. Like my new dance…I’m only gonna move…what wants to move. We wanted a new me? Well…..we got a new me. I invite you to stick around and see who she becomes. And by all means, tell your friends, cuz the odds are half and half that there will be a calamity involved!!!!!!!!!! Y’all can rubberneck it!!! Me……all alone now…..in a new country!!!!! Holy Sacred Cows!!! Signing off in Costa Rica. Rich in Coastline. Ciao. OH….PS…..those who remember the twitter war I had with my son? Back then, the pound signs # were just being used and didn’t really work on FB. Last night I thought I’d see why people were bothering….holy crumbcake!!! Try it…..! PSS,,,,for those of you who are tired of me saying how much I’m changing…SO sorry…..you should try BEING me….instead of just hearing about it!!! haha….but I’ll try. Lovelove #awesomeauthors


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