I bundled myself up in many, many layers to protect from the blowing wind. Undershirt, thermal turtle neck sweater, a cotton turtle neck sweater over the thermal, a layer of fleece on my upper body and below I layered two pairs of long johns (one cotton, the other polyester) heavy denim jeans, one pair of wool socks and thick cotton socks over them followed by the usual scarf, hat, gloves, and leather jacket. I decided against my long winter coat because I wanted freedom of movement on the ice and I have yet to purchase a winter waist coat.
My skates arrived in the mail the day before and I was like a kid at Christmas unwrapping the package to reveal the brand new, never worn leather ice skates that were from some old ice rink. They fit perfectly. I felt conflicted about my decision to spray paint them silver. The skates were nude with a black stripe down the back and since they were vintage, they were super cool looking. They even had the size in white on the heel of the boot, but that went away with a few strokes of my black sharpie.
Keep them nude, I decided as I packed my bag and headed to the G Train to take me to the 7 and Bryant Park. The sun set as I arrived at the winter wonderland. Christmas lights, holiday music, specialty shops and hot cocoa fill the block and a half park behind the NYC Public Library. It is a magical experience.
The line to enter the ice rink snakes around specialty kiosks and word spreads down the line that we should be inside in less than two hours! I had forgotten that there might be a wait but had nothing else planned and the time passed quickly. Ahead of me was a family of four from Pittsburgh who make the pilgrimage every year to go holiday shopping in the city. As we were in line, they called all their friends back home and retold the days events of shopping at Macy's, the over-priced lunch they had and now waiting for two hours to go ice skating at Bryant Park.
I tuned them out and visualized the skating lessons I'd watched on YouTube earlier in the day. It had been over ten years since I was on the ice and I thought a few pointers would be a good idea. Like a professional basketball player shooting hoops in his mind, I visualized myself easily skating around the rink, taking quick-quick steps, keeping my feet togethere, doing the cross-over steps around the bend and working towards the center to practice backwards skating.
Time flew by and by six PM I entered the rink. The place was packed with mostly teenagers and preteens unsupervised by parents. I'd forgotten that might be the case since the ice rink was free of charge...the only one in the city that was free. Never mind the kids, my first task was to get my skates sharpened since they were dull and had never been used before. Check. Done. Next, get a locker to stash stuff. Done. Time to hit the ice.
By six fifteen I was on the ice, wobbling as I remembered how to stand. I stayed close to the edge until an inner voice said to me, "Linda, you know how to skate, so go skate already!" And I did so. No sooner had I made it around the rink once did an announcement come on instructing all the skaters to leave the ice for cleaning.
We all skate off the ice and I marveled as the Zamboni performed its circular dance twice aroundd the ice. Piles of ice shavings melted away making a smooth surface which instantly refroze from the dark, cold night.
Fifteen minutes later and I'm one of the first back on the ice. As the others piled on, I enjoyed the fresh ice to practice skating backwards and was in heaven. The children filled the ice rink and more and more people piled on the ice making it a sea of black coats and hats. Most of the skaters were inexperienced and grabbed on to anyone one near them to prevent them from falling which caused both people to go down.
One young woman did just that as she skated in the wrong direction head onto to me. I caught her and we embraced like old lovers. She apologized and I told her we were lucky! She agreed and skated on her way.
More and more people entered the ice and it became harder to skate because I was too worried about the other skaters and what they were doing. I skated a few more times around and decided that maybe I should take a break for a couple of hours and come back once the kids cleared out. I over heard several groups of kids that said they had to leave at seven. Plus the mood hadn't risen yet. I wanted to skate under the moon!
My last time around the rink I thought to myself how great it was that I was skating and hadn't fallen. Good for me! Just then, a kid wizzed by pushing me and I fell face down, flat on my face. The wind was knocked out of me and I heard a clear snap as I landed on the ice. People gathered around me asking if I was okay but I didn't realize they were talking to me. I was in another place...a place of red pain that filled my body.
The skating guards cleared the crowd and helped me up speaking to me like a child saying, "Your alright. You're a big girl. It will be okay." I asked for help getting up and they escourted me off the ice. Maybe I just had the wind knocked out of me. If I sat down for a bit I was sure I'd feel better.
Each breath in was a sharp pain and I quickly realized that I'd either broken a rib or at the very least bruised had bruised my ribs. Slowly I pulled myself together to gather my things and start the trek home to examine my injuries.
It was six fifty PM. I got in nearly a half-hour of skating! Clutching my side, struggling to hold my skates, the security guard told me there was no reenntry once I left the rink due to the huge crowd, but if I skated during the weekdays I could return after exiting.
I hope my cracked rib will be healed before the last day of skating on Januarye 25th, 2009. WebMD says it takes about six weeks for a cracked rib to heal and if I keep a low profile, rest, take my deep breaths and follow the doctor's orders, I should be back on the ice before the last skating session.
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda ¶ 12:16 PM 0 comments
So much love,
All the way from over here....
Linda
GINGERBREAD HOUSE
I'm still out sick from work. I took in my Kitchen Aid mixer into work because they are making gingerbread houses today for our big event tomorrow and I haven’t been able to buy one yet for the store.
What’s the event?
Build and decorate your own gingerbread house with all natural and organic edible candies and treats.
Very cool…bring the kids, spend an afternoon and have some hot coco or mulled cider, snack on the candies while you are decorating…good old-fashioned clean fun for the whole family and all for one low, low price!
Life works in such funny ways…you see, this awesome event failed to make it onto the calendar and I talked about it in the store meeting and so team members have been talking it up and I’m out sick for a week so the team is going to have to pull together to put this event together.
So I took my mixer in so they could make the gingerbread. I created the house templates and gave some direction and then quickly realized that I really feel much better when I’m at home. I mean, I feel so much better than yesterday but I’m not ready to be working again.
But one thing I did notice is that I have been really lonely. I didn’t think so because I’ve been on the phone a lot, but I’m missing human contact…face to face conversations. And being with other people is so critical for me or else it leads to loneliness which leads to depression which is not a place I’m going…but I did notice what was missing. This is progress. I can be rather self-unaware at times.
I mean I’ve been in my house sick since last Sunday. Today is Friday. Thank god I’ve been taking baths because without other people around, I can start to smell pretty bad. And in my past it would have happened as “missing time”….
Here’s the good news: Yes, I’ve been sick but this is the first time I’ve let people know how sick I am and I have accepted help from my neighbors like plates of food and visits. This time I haven’t awakened not known what day it is because it’s been a couple days that I’d been sleeping in and out of illness. When you’re home sick alone it can do a number on your mind…especially if you are prone to think about the future in any way….you know….find the spinster lady in her house with the cats….but they find her because of the smell?
I know, crazy…and my point is that I didn’t go there! This is good news! I am recognizing how dependent I am on other people….this has been a big issue for me because I am so goddamned independent! I can hear all my past boyfriends shouting out with glee, “FINALLY! SHE GETS IT!!” I think I’ve been a bad girlfriend.
Please accept my apology gentlemen. I am sorry. I know I’ll do better this time. I promises.
You know, there’s a lot I don’t understand about men but my teachers come in all forms. For example, Nick at work has really taught me a lot about men. I’ve told him so too. He told me really early in our working relationship that he needs to be needed. I didn’t understand because I hated that the team members needed me for so much stupid shit! I thought being needed is good, yeah, sure, but to what point? How much “being needed” is good for a person?
That being my perspective, I didn’t quite understand his need to be needed but I put the information away somewhere in my brain and some time later I noticed that our relationship changed. When we first started working together, we were close but I noticed us drifting apart. I found some of the things he did irritating and I didn’t understand his behavior at work….and then I got really involved in a new project which excited my soul and I drifted further and further away from my regular duties and into my new life.
I started missing Nick and when we were connected and I remembered his need so I started to look for ways he could help me. I asked first for a little favor and his spirit light right up. It was then that I saw how he responded when he was needed. It is as if being of service to another is the greatest gift he could give someone.
I started asking for more and more help and we became closer than we had ever been. Our friendship grew to such a level of trust that I knew that if I needed something, away from work….like if my car broke down, I could call him. That’s such a great feeling! Not only did we become great friends and coworkers, I got a hell of a lot more shit done because he wanted to do it and the sense of security has been very freeing. Bingo. Surprise. Stability can be freeing. That’s the real lesson I am learning today.
So what am I doing today during my final convalescing time besides reflecting on men (naturally…they are so intriguing…) and snacking, napping, resting, listening to music…and…wishing I could go for a swim?
I am making a gingerbread house.
But I’m not decorating it with candy.
I’ve got another idea….
I got a lot of drugs I’m not on any more…you know…pharmaceuticals… good shit too, baby. I can’t sell them on the street and it seems like a waste to flush them down the toilet and they have so many pretty colors and shapes...
I got a hot glue gun but I'm gonna use royal icing in case of emergency. You can't take a pill with the hot glue, but just in case I decide I need to go back on Lexapro, I can still take it.
I got a lot of time on my hands.
This is gonna be one hell of a holiday season! Feeling stressed out? Stop by my place and help yourself to my gingerbread house. The little yellow ones are Valium! Pudgy white ones are Xanax (or vitamin "Z" as I like to call it.)Help yourself! Anyone out there who has some high blood pressure, please help yourself. Feeling really anxious? Have a Clonzapam! I got 'em all, baby!
I love entertaining.
¶ 12:09 PM 0 comments
My Miss Clairol box hair color was fading out like a trailer court whore and if I want to move forward with meeting an interesting man or two, I gotta feel good about my hair. I am a Leo after all. And while I don't identify with all the traditional Leo traits, I am fully engaged with the look of my hair. My priest, Father Damien has been cutting it for the last six months or more and he's been doing a great job too, but he is far, far away from me now.
Anne found on Craigslist, an ad for a hair model at 7 Salon which is a very hip, high-end hair studio in the most expensive retail space, Pacific Place, in downtown Seattle. I decided to give them a call. What could it hurt? My hair couldn't look any worse than when I did it myself. I love having my hair professionally colored but had a real hard time shelling out the $125 for a process that needed to be done every 4-6 weeks.
My sisters and I were all born blonds but my hair turned to chestnut brown by the age of 4 and by the age of 15 I started turning gray. That was the year of Three Mile Island and we lived in our basement for a couple of weeks glued to the news to see if the world still existed outside of our house. Mom probably shouldn't have taken us to see "China Syndrome" during that whole affair either. When we exited the movie theater there were about dozen newspaper reporters and photographers to catch the faces of those poor people living within the five mile radius of the power plant. Mom told us not to talk to the media, but I couldn't resist. And I didn't really understand what was going on until I saw that movie which really wasn't a good idea, Mom. Oh well...
Art imitating life. Life imitating art.
I've been going gray ever since. Oh sure, there are a lot of other things that happened too following that event...like mom growing an extra Thyroid organ. It baffled the doctors that a woman could grown an extra organ. She recently had the inoperative extra thyroid removed but I think she started growing it because mine stopped working. That's a nice thought but I am really sure it is because of her well and the ground water she drinks. While she is upstream from the power plant, radiation is invisible. Who knows what kind of damage that place has done to her. I got the hell out of Harrisburg PA by the time I turned 18 and I didn't go back (except for one brief stint in my early 20's following my apprenticeship in Italy) for 20 years.
What amazes me about returning to an area that I'd fled so long ago, was that they were still playing the same music as when I left. Billy Joel's "Just the Way You Are" was still getting airplay. I notice that about my return to Seattle too...the same music is popular as when I left. There is nothing wrong with angry alternative music, but I just don't identify with it anymore. I wonder when the pounding beats of Miami will leave my subconsciouses.
Pounding beats are what greet you at 7 Salon. It is the only hair studio that I have been to that employs a full-time barista and DJ. They have a swank program for their stylists that include another year of training following the two year Gene Juarez Training Salon. Everyone is dressed in trendy black and white (although silver is the new black, but I won't tell them yet) and when greeted at the door, you are handed a sensual smock and hanger by the full-time coat-check person. Your latte will be made while you change.
Sweet!
I changed and was guided by my student, Glenn, who was in his last month of training before his final which included doing 4 models in one day. I was a perfect model because of the massive amount of gray hair I have plus trying to cover my bad dye job. There was no other option but for me to look great. I was in good hands.
The students consult with their clients/models and then en mass they gather around each hair model to discuss with the instructor and in front of the group what they will be doing to the hair. I was last of the eight models/clients and Glenn was prepared.
"My model is 90% gray on top and in the front." He announces to the group.
"Yikes!" slips out of my mouth and the instructor frowns at me. Hair models are to be seen and not heard.
"We are going to do an aggressive color repair, as you can see the damage that she has done to herself using over-the-counter hair color." He goes on confidently.
I could see how defensive I was getting in the chair as my thoughts raced to explain my poor hair color and condition and I had not prepared myself for the public humiliation. I recently gave up humiliation for lent and decided to not take it back-up after Easter. And what with my employment history and all that crap that happened at Whole Foods and my visit to the mental institution...wasn't I allowed to have bad hair once in my life?
See. I'm still defensive about my hair. Let it go Linda, let it go!
Glenn combs my hair over to the other side to show the class all my gray growth and he goes on. "We need to not only create a new color, we have to restore the damage done by the sun and pool damage." That's true, I thought. I was in the pool every day before I came to Seattle. Oh god how I missed being warm and in the sun...~sigh~
"I was thinking of using 5NG and 5NS before covering her with 5NG." The teacher makes a tutting sound and sucks in some air through his teeth before saying, "Do any of you have another suggestion?"
My confidence in my soon to be graduating Glenn was fleeing quickly.
"I might use a level 4NG because of the massive amount of gray and its resistance plus I'd want to sure the front and the back were going to match." A pretty platinum blond student said.
Yeah Glenn, had you thought about that, I thought to myself. Didn't you want the front and back of my head match? When were you going to think about that, Glenn? Were you just going to make my hair two different tones? What were you thinking Glenn? Geeze! Everybody knows that you need to use a level down for the really hard grays which never want to color and a higher level for the new non-gray growth in back. Is Glenn even your real name? Who even names their kids Glenn anymore! Did you change your name to Glenn to be cool? There hasn't been a popular Glenn since Glenn Campbell and why the fuck are you studying hair, Glenn? Are you going to make me a freak, Glenn? God Glenn, pull your head out of your ass, man. THIS IS MY HAIR WE ARE TALKING ABOUT!!! You're not cool Glenn...EVERYBODY SAYS SO!!!
~ahem~
Glenn listens to the advice his fellow student gives and the instructor says, "She's right Glenn. What did we learn?"
Glenn says, "That gray take a different level and time because of the lack of pigment and the resistance to accepting color."
"That's right. Now what are you going to do?" asks the instructor.
"I'm going to use a 4NGS in the front, the 5NG in the back and readjust the overall color using a 5NPS." Glenn says.
"Good decision. Write it down." says the instructor. I liked him. Stay close, I thought to myself. I may need you soon!
Glenn writes down the information from the consultation and the group disperses to mix their color and get ready for processing.
To be continued...
So much love,
All the way from over here...
Linda ¶ 3:43 PM 0 comments
Transformation happened to me last night. I experienced the vision quest I had been waiting 8 years for and it felt as if I were being exercised of a demon, and today I am alive and very well.
No pea soup on the walls!
Here's the thing...John Two Birds came to me and reminded of my native american name and I received the vision I have been waiting and waiting for...for so long I could not see my future and now I see it.
It would be my honor to share it with you...
I will share it with you...
But this is sacred information.
I am transformed and I am protected. I am beautiful and the absolutely most loved child of god as you are too...because there is enough for us all...there are silver buckets of love everywhere filled to the brim with its sweet scent. It is here.
This is my last posting on Patsycat Cafe.
Patsycat's spirit left last night. It moved on. She told me it was time for her to go to her special kitty place and I didn't need her watching over me anymore. She assured me that Puff and L'il man were doing a great job and she had others waiting for her love and she promised to visit me whenever I needed...and the softest kitty that ever lived, the sweet little Patsycat licked my nose and went her way.
She was such a good cat. She stayed here with me since she left her body in 2000. So soft...bunny-soft fur.
The Patsycat Cafe is closing its doors forever. We've lost our lease and have decided to do something else. This has been a great cafe...coffee was spectacular! Snacks? The best! Conversations were easy and the laughs...boy have we laughed here.
It's been a good little blog and it will be missed.
This does not mean that I am stopping writing.
Oh No.
I am just stopping writing here.
My new blog is by invitation only.
You must write and request the new web address. I will not link it to here because today I have a new voice.
John Two Birds came to me and we talked for a long time last night before the healing ceremony. I have been given some incredible information to share but it is sacred and you must be ready to read it. To be ready you must be able to ask for what you need...isn't that the lesson I have been learning?
Ask for what you need out loud to the right person and it will come.
If you would like to read my writings and to learn what John Two Birds has taught me, simply shoot me an email with your reason why you want to read the blog and we'll see if Two Birds will grant you enterance...see, he's like my big daddy...but not my dad. He's my Earth Poppa...native american son...a man of this earth and he's making sure that all who come in contact treat me with respect and dignity or else they can't talk to the pretty lady.
So if you believe you are called to read about my experiences with John Two Birds, simply write to this email address:
linda.silberman@yahoo.com
It is with the greatest love and sincerest appreciation for allowing me to use this venue to purge my pain and suffering. It is all out now. Today I am illuminated.
As a thank you gift to you, my reader, I would like to share Patsycat's Obituary.
Peace be with you and please pray for the people everywhere...they need all the help they can get.
Patsycat
A.K.A.
Linda S. Silberman
Patsycat Obituary
Patsycat Silberman died at 6:00 a.m. October 16th, 2000 from a series of strokes followed by a massive seizure. To stop her suffering, she was euthanized in her life-long companions’ arms. Ms. Patsycat never revealed her real age. Her loyal fans guessed her to be between 14 and 18 years old. She is survived by her lover, Abdul Raoul Silberman, and Life Companion, Linda S. Silberman.
Born in
She was a natural in the modeling industry and possessed an almost psychic ability to know how to stare directly into the camera. This natural ability to convey the most provocative positions while remaining a lady made her top of her field. For the millions of fans that followed her career, she had her fair share of critics. But her modest professionalism while she was in her prime made her worshiped by her colleagues. She rose to the highest honors and her ability to work long hours with minimal grooming and consistent performance for days on end dazzled crowds across the globe.
Fame was instant and she was hired by Vogue in 1988 to do a radical photo shoot wearing only diamonds and a boa constrictor. Not only was this vision controversial, it was highly risky. A tender kitten had never been asked to expose her self to a snake while maintaining her dignity. Art Diretors insisted the snake would be fed before the shot and the press was outraged that the art directors would risk the kitten’s life for recognition. This event, the photo shoot, was discussed on all the news and daytime chat shows. It made people angry.
“It was too risky a job for me…I walked out!” stated 2nd groomer Mr. Tyrone. “The riskier the job, and controversial the more hard it is to brush her out…she was like terrified and like all hissing and trembled and that fur got so matted…child it was like pullin’ splinters out of a jar of broken glass! No more I said and I walked! Yes I did…walked right outa there…”
The attention devoted to this photo created a media circus at the publishing house and so risky the shot it has never been attempted again.
Vogue sold 18 millions of copies of that cover.
Cappuccino became an international icon.
During her career she kept apartments in
Cappuccino and Biscotti lived a fast, hard life full of drugs, drinks and excess. She began to obsess about her weight and became addicted to Opti-fast. She did not take care of her fur and Biscotti grew abusive. The tension created a wall around Cappuccino and work came in less often.
After a failed music attempt she tried her hand at acting. She appeared in several small films which all had a similar role of the elderly neighbor’s cat. The script instructed that Cappuccino was to ran out the door every time Carol Channing opened it, but Cappuccino missed her cue, slept through rehearsal, and was reported to have stopped acting mid-shot to lick herself in the most private of places for no apparent reason at all!
“There was nothing there.” said Channing. “She hallucinated all day during work believing that she was dirty and became obsessive about washing herself. At first I thought she got some bad crack, cuz there were some dirty rocks floating around, but then she just got all whacked out. Really, I did not see this coming.” Channing finished by adding, “…I told her, clean the rocks and don’t get none of that white shit from Whitney! Bobby don’t got the connections anymore.”
Directors and producers had no idea what Cappuccino would do next. She was out of control and she developed a very bad reputation. Again she was fired and searching for money.
Desperate and disillusioned, she was finally given another chance in
In a statement released to the press from the Executive Producers of the Ms. Saigon stated, “…artistic differences…”as the cause for her leaving the production and insiders confirmed that she refused to sing during the now famous helicopter scene.
Insiders report that Cappuccino insisted she be squatting center stage, to assume the (now trademarked) “meatloaf” position and howl for her mommy for 67 minuets uninterrupted. Years after this incident, Cappuccino was quoted in the 1996 “Where Are They Now?” issue of People Magazine as saying, “…I know Miss Saigon. I am her. I know what she did. You see, she is me…that director don’t know me. I am Miss Saigon. Not that c*%t from the ice follies, it was me! I Am Miss Saigon. I went to
Distraught from her failure on stage, she and Biscotti came to
Biscotti was not an honest man. He told investors the business was selling Cappuccino memorabilia to her millions of fans world-wide. It did not take long for the investors to d
scover that the memorabilia was a front for kitty porn website available to children without restrictions.
Cappuccino, now completely absorbed in her drug addiction, was photographed unconscious in most of the kitty porn shots. Cat Nip was everywhere and she was even photographed belly up while drooling. The investors reacted quickly and requested their return of funds but Biscotti had squandered the money away on gambling, booze, drugs and women. He preferred 2 legged ladies, not 4. This was the final humiliation for Cappuccino.
Their fights became escalated. He blamed Cappuccino for the horrible life he now led. In the spring of 1996 Biscotti beat her beyond recognition and threw her out into the cold. Nothing to her name except the fur on her back, Cappuccino walked the streets cold, hurt, hungry and wet. Teeth gnawed to nubs because of the years of cocaine addiction, she turned tricks with reclusive Microsoft software programmers for food and the promise of warmth.
Arrested for prostitution in the spring of 1996, she was placed in solitary confinement for she was still a celebrity and at high risk. The arrest was published world-wide and Cappuccino was ready to die. She had pneumonia and was given only two weeks to live. Copies of the confidential medical files were stolen and published online in 1998 and Biscotti Con Gusto was arrested for robbery but was released following investigation with only a written warning.
In a rare copy of the recently uncovered medical records, there are 45 pages of doctor notes in the daily care log. Many comments were written as Cappuccino drifted in and out of the spirit world. The doctors wrote endless notes on her condition, “it’s as if she has been beaten from the inside out….Some of the doctors talk about what it’d be like to touch a pussy like that… she is so close to death…so pathetic….the slightest touch could kill her…another sleepless night…ask doctor if it is time to kill her…”
Lifetime fan, Anne Silberman, followed Cappuccino’s career passionately and when she heard the news of Cappuccino’s confinement and brought her sister to meet with her. They fell in love instantly. Cappuccino was granted parole and placed in custody with Ms. Linda S. Silberman. She convalesced in the swank
In her last years she spent most of her time entertaining friends, napping, waiting for wet food, camping, singing, napping, sitting in gardens, reading, looking at herself in mirrors, napping, washing, traveling, doing crossword puzzles, eating, napping.
During this golden time, she and her long-time friend, Raoul fell in love and together they worked towards global harmony holding group meditations focusing on healing and cleansing out negative energies. Her life work was now humanitarian.
Patsycat lived out her dying days with a full and joyous life. She will be best remembered for her bunny-soft fur and adorable crossed-eyes. Lockets of her fur and a paw print were left to her life companion and are available for private viewing.
¶ 11:40 AM 1 comments
And as I sit here crying again thinking about how I have been treated by my boss and the stress and the pleasure loop came up...
This time I did not resist.
I need a little pleasure.
I need a pleasure loop.
I need relief. There has been too much stress and not enough joy for me and don't I believe in joy? Pleasure?
So maybe I just need a new pleasure.... ¶ 3:21 AM 2 comments
I am on my second leave of absence in less than a year....I don't know when I'll be able to go back to work...I doubt if my doctor will release me anytime soon after he sees me tomorrow.
I'm in pretty bad shape.
Maybe Whole Foods Market has been the problem
Maybe I am not the problem.
Maybe it is the job that is the problem.
The job...and I've given them some of my best work. You should see what I created with the Lifestyle Center...it is revolutionary and it will put us so far ahead of the competition...
So competitive...this industry...and me because of it...
Maybe it is the job...the job is the problem.
I am not the problem. I am a child of god and a beautiful being and I do not need to be sick anymore. I do not to have to work myself without compensation for weeks on end and not have enough money to even file for bankruptcy...the last LOA pushed me into this financial situation.
Work is the problem.
I am not the problem
I am filled with solutions. I do not bring people problems. I bring answers. I help people. I teach people. I love people. I need to be with the people.
Whole Foods Market has not taken very good care of me and I have been a very loyal and hard working team member.
The crying has stopped....I have taken a deep breath in and I can feel it in my lungs again. Another breath...and I feel calmer...I am not the problem.
Maybe it is Whole Foods Problem!
Blessings,
Patsycat ¶ 2:30 AM 2 comments
There has been too much happening.
Some things happened today for which I am not legally allowed to share or I will loose my job. That being said, I can say that it has been an unusually highly charged high stress day. I even took 2 Xanax and felt no effect what so ever...then I tried a beer...nothing and after trying to sleep for hours I broke off an ambient from the gingerbread house and still...no sleep.
So I did what I know works...creative work and swimming. I went for a swim and just got out of the pool...it's about 1:45 AM as I write now. While in the pool I swam and cried. I released a lot of pain and hurt...how can one person have so much pain in side of them? I think I'm getting close to ending the tears because I just don't really see what else there is to cry about or else all I'm going to do is keep crying and crying and crying....why so many tears?
I prayed to God for an answer....a few moments later the most beautiful meteor entered our atmosphere...it was a beautiful turquoise blue...almost the same color as this bracelet that I pretended to loose to Aaron hoping he would return it to me.
Actually, I thought this ploy was kinda clever....I took this really cool bracelet that I bought at my favorite outdoor market in
On the inside of the bracelet I wrote with a black sharpie: If found, please call and then my phone number. I also wrote reward I think. But the reward was that he can keep the bracelet because it is too masculine for me so it is good that he didn't return it because it is for him anyway...it's nice.
I thought that was clever...writing inside the bracelet...it was clever. It is just so desperate. Karen kept telling me that I was behaving like this guy she's been involved with who is a raging alcoholic and she has tolerated such bad behavior from him...so awful....alcoholism is so ugly. So black. So dark. And she told me I was behaving exactly like Him! Him! That man!
I didn't crawl into Aaron's sacred bed chamber and vomit and puke and violate her sanctuary? Did I? Did I violate Aarons' private space? Karen's space is her bedroom....is Aaron's sacred space his voice mail? No. But I burned you a lot of music. Did I violate you musically Aaron?
Aaron...did I do that to you? Please...will you tell me? Will you let me apologize for my actions and get some closure because there really has been a lot going on for me and this is one of the last loose ends I'd like to tie up because I got some serious life to get too. I don't want to waste too much time on this...haven't we wasted enough time?
See, I don't know.
No reply.
And it doesn't matter. This is merely a distraction, I know, from the unbelievable amount of stress that I have been under...so in the pool I spoke with God...
When I came in and checked my email, Cathy wrote. The band is asking that I come up in December and perform with them and why wasn't I there for the Xmas show next week? So after court on Thursday I’m going to go to
Here’s the band’s website and the dance troop…my people...strippers and musicians.
Mike wants to add this whole Martin Denny set to the Tongo shows he does on Thursday nights and I want to scream like a monkey so maybe I should just pack it all up and go.
Why am I staying in
Work?
I have no money so I have a fresh start.
All work and no life makes Linda cry all the time.
Pray for me please.
So I’ll go to
Letting go…freeing the mind…such a challenge. The human brain is so small compared to so many other creatures. For instance, the average weight for an average sized human being brain is between 350-400 grams. A bottled nose dolphin’s brain weighs around 1027 grams. The elephant: 4670 grams. Sperm whale? 6930.
The cat: 25 grams. I doubt that fact, but I Googled it and that’s the number that comes up…sorry kitty.
That’s interesting stuff and it’s a pretty good size, the human brain, but the cow is 420 grams…exactly. Kind of suspicious huh? The cow: so sacred in
So many interesting facts and figures available about the brain and how it works and so many workshops and movies and people to teach you how to control your thoughts and I’ve done an awful lot of those programs too, you know cult stuff like Franklin Covey. I think that’s a cult, but I’ve been through the training and I’ve seen what happens to people once they touch the leather binders of their daytimes and the need to write lists. It looks so important…so much more important than actually doing some work…cults. I could talk about them all day….
And yet I cannot control my thoughts around Aaron.
Why did he pop into my head today? I am done with you sir! Adios. Farewell. See ya later…Goodbye, ciao, cheerio, take it easy…have a good one, tootles...have a nice day, take care, peace…peace-out brother, stay strong, ta ta, AMF, see you around, catch you on the flip side, until next time…I will see you much, much later.
So why is he still in my head? I purged him. I let him go I released him. I did what I always do…I turned him over to the universe, I said a beautiful prayer, I honored him for all the glory and beauty he has brought into my life and I’m pretty smart girl…I should be able to comprehend all this ya know? I do not understand! Why!?!
Somebody, please tell me…
Here’s what happened. I got my work done. Actually, I was in my brass panties meeting and I realized about an hour into the talk that I was in no condition to return to work today. I needed to rest but first I had to really keep my ass out of jail! My meeting ended up being about 5 hours and I had to race to the bank to get the money that mom wired me and then off to the attorney’s office for the form that I was supposed to bring in notarized with me and then to the Broward county court house and since I work so fucking much I have no idea where this place is and I’m lost and can’t figure out where I am and I gotta get there and some old fucker like 90 years old is driving really slow and what is he doing? Is he turning or parking? And he’s on a cell phone? TALKING ON A CELL PHONE AND DRIVING!? OLD PEOPLE SHOULD NOT BE ALLOWED TO DRIVE YET ALONE DRIVE AND TALK ON A CELL PHONE!!! And that was when I heard his voice in my head! It was as clear as if he was standing right next to me and it was a moment in time that I relived a moment that happened in the store a few months ago….
I walked up to his work area and he was leaning over a counter giving a cashier directions to somewhere and he was drawing a map and speaking, I didn’t know where she was going and couldn’t tell by the map but I tried to stay out of the picture and I only overheard him and watched him out of the corner of my eye. What I do know was that where ever she was going, he was gonna make sure she got there and he was using all these different tools to make sure she understood where he was saying to her.
For instance, he was using her accent when he spoke to be a little clearer because she was from
I really wanted to laugh out loud but he was trying to help her so much and it was so sweet so I kinda stuck around pretending to be looking for something at the desk where he worked (I did that a lot…I’d pretend to need information from his work station when we were working together because I really liked being around him you know? We had fun at work but we were just getting to know each other. We did not have enough time together. He left and then I was really sad. I missed him. I missed his voice…he’s got a great sound…and when he was giving directions to her I heard him say, “…you know, near the choo choo tracks…” and then I had to run away! I had to get somewhere fast to laugh my ass off!
I sprinted into produce and busted out laughing! This poor girl would not know what a choo choo train is…she’s from
Fucking Asshole.
That is just like you too Aaron…go be super nice and kind. Go ahead…do it and then watch all the people fall in love with you.
What the fuck is that all about anyway?
Every girl in the store…well, maybe not the store, but definitely on his team are in love with him…he has all the ladies in his back pocket and the guys too….they’ll do anything for him. He is a beautiful, kind, strong loving leader and that is why I fell so in love with him, because who are we kidding? I’ve been in love with him.
I know, I’ve been denying it and trying to hide it and feeling ashamed for all the grand jesters I made towards him and all the stupid foolish things I did trying to get him to notice me.
I then remembered Zoë’s words to me before I left
But men don’t notice me. They don’t pay me attention. They don’t ask me out. I don’t date. I don’t find love. I haven’t been in love like to the core ever…I don’t think. Or how would I know? Don’t you know when you are in love?
I thought I was in love because some of the things I made for Aaron, the gifts of music, poetry, art, whatever…seemed to come from a place deep inside me that I had absolutely no control over. I don’t remember the process that happened to me while I was making the first CD I burned him, it happened so fast. And after I gave him that disk and I listened to it again but this time with my old headphones on, and I thought about him…it was the perfect disk. I could feel in my bones that he would like it. I could imagine his reaction to the Natasha song…he would get my secret message!
Or so I thought.
But he didn’t really say anything about the disk I burned for him. I thought it was pretty good and I invited him to join a group of us out for drinks to see this great band, and I thought he’d be into that… you know, a safe group setting. I know he’s shy, but he wasn’t into it.
And as I reread what I’ve written and if I heard my own story, I would tell myself or any friend going through this…he is not into you. Aaron is not into me.
I really thought he did notice me though…but Karen has told me time and again…if a guy is into you, he gives you a call. Kinda like 1+1=2 for dating. The basics…a guy is into you he calls you, you go out, you talk, and you maybe shake hands or a kiss? Who knows….but there is an expression of intention. Old school.
And of course there were a lot of other things happening at the same time…I was doing 2 jobs ready to burn-out but really trying not to, he was moving to another store and this and that and this and that this that here there stuff to do things happening now…
As I reflect back now, it is really like a dream. I don’t remember burning all the disks for him and I think I burned him at least 5. I gave him 5 disks of music and that didn’t include the disks I was burning for him as recently as yesterday!
Yesterday?
Really Linda?
Yup. Addictive personality traits are hard to break and I am such a big talker and I am so human and then I heard this song that I’d never heard and I immediately thought of Aaron and I wondered if he had heard this song before and if he would like it and what he thought about it and I took it and started another play list for him…
It is like a sickness, this habit I have about thinking about Aaron. I Need more discipline. More meditation. Father Damien tells me to tap it away…tap tap tap he’d say while tapping his face and I’d do it too and shift the energy…release the addictive need.
That’s it. Addiction.
But addiction to what? Tall, dark, and handsome men? Lost musicians? Playing with boys? Begging for attention? Not feeling noticed? Feeling embarrassed by expressing my feelings? What are you addicted to? What is the cause? And don’t answer love because this is not love…expressing your self and not being rejected but subjecting myself to something worse, worse than rejection. Worse than being criticized. Worse than humiliation. And I begged him to reject me. To stop me from calling him. Stop me I begged him in one message…get a restraining order I said…I said so many unkind things to him and he treated me with equal cruelty.
He refused to see me.
I am six feet tall with gigantic tits.
What I find most surprising is how unkind it is…this tender man who I believed was so kind and so many love and worship him and isn’t he beautiful and he can be unkind just like all the human beings, everywhere.
I am not addicted to love or anything or substance. I do, however, look in the wrong direction all the time. I get lost. I don’t see clearly. I look for men who are not interested in me so I can perpetuate the old painful beliefs that I am unworthy of love so I display my affections onto me who are not available for me in the first place. That’s why I don’t date musicians. I’ve yet to meet one who is emotionally available.
That’s what I do…I am attracted to men who are completely unavailable for me, especially emotionally…and in my mind I believed that the friendship or friendly working relationship we shared was his way of expressing his interest in me and that simply isn’t true.
If he was willing to do anything to help this young cashier get to her destination even if it meant him making baby noises and drawing funny maps…wouldn’t you think he would be kind enough to stop my unwanted advances? But he is so shy…and speaking is hard for him, or so I think…see…why do I do that? Why do I try to defend him even as I type?
Fingers do not have their own brains….why defend him?
He has been kind to me for receiving my gifts and not having the heart to tell me himself that he wasn’t interested in me. Then I get these urges to call him…for no reason and we have never talked on the phone…like I have this calling to call him so I took Karen’s advice, something she told me to do last week, or maybe the week before. I don’t remember exactly.
I deleted his phone number today at the beach. I started calling him after seeing him recently at work and again I thought we had a connection so after that I called him and left him a friendly message to chat, but he never called me back. I called him again, and again and again….I really don’t even know if he received any of my messages and at this point, after being so sick and reuniting with my mother and keeping my ass out of jail and having to go back to the doctor and the work…shit the LSC! So much work left to do! I do not care. I do not care. I do not care.
I am very tired.
Maybe this is the part where I really, really let him go and finally get good nights sleep.
Let’s hope so.
P.
I must admit, I had a hard time falling to sleep last night and letting go of the idea of Aaron and me. I really liked it....loved it actually.
There are so many things about this fantasy that I loved...like he's a musician. That's the first thing I loved about him or rather, the idea of loving him....that's always been a fantasy of mine, to be involved with a musician because of my secret musical life. Especially a bass player because I’ve always had a special connection with my bass players especially when I was performing.
I play piano and I have been called a musician, but I do not often call myself a musician unless I am around other musicians and that is because of my experience playing. I refer to myself as a musician in the actual sense by being someone who’s played on stage alone or with others for money. Since I was about 5 or 6 in public... Anne will remember when we all started performing for people like circus animals at garden clubs, family gatherings, my Dad’s office…anywhere there were people we were directed to stand up straight and sing in the perfect 3-part harmony musical gift that god granted us. Remember...we were kids, really young. The 3 of us sang for all the people everywhere and then there were so many criticisms when we were done…how to improve, don’t look down while you sing Linda…don’t stare at this, don’t sing like that....we were performing children. But I prefer to remember it as if we were in the circus…it was a frikkin side show…look at the girls…aren’t they pretty? Dressed alike and all? Really, those 2 are twins? How did that happen? 2 blonds and then the little brown girl? (I don’t look like my sisters in coloring at all, only in facial structure and sound…we all have the same voice…and we’ve played some very funny phone tricks in our days!) But you get the idea…performing children. Talk about humiliation….
Family acts were big when I was growing up in the late 1960's and 1970's...the Osmonds, The Jackson 5, Mills Brothers (mom loved them most so we listened to them too), oh god....so many...again, this is where Anne really comes in handy. She remembers all sorts of music facts, and any obscure music trivia that you can find....she is an awesome trivial pursuit partner and her ability to recall abstract musical information from around the globe is incredible! Anne, I don’t tell you enough but I love you so much and you definitely have a beautiful mind! Keep up the work with Art Bell! We’re all so proud of you!
Our Father called us, "The Silberman Sisters, Sweet Spinsters of Song" Song Spinsters....funny! NOTE: My dad planted a lot of seeds like spinster and widow in me. He told me when I was in my 20’s when I arrived for dinner, dressed all in black, his compliment was, “Linda, you are going to make one beautiful widow!” He was a very funny man. He was also smart and really a hoot...he named me after a song. My father and mother’s love for music is what taught me to love music. I have memories from songs I’ve heard…that’s how I remember time sometimes, by a song. You know how you can remember events with certain songs? That’s what I’m talking about. As a matter of a fact, I can’t listen to most Barbara Streisand (especially the music from the late 70’s and early 80’s) because it is as Anne and I call it, Flash Back music. The songs actually produced a flash-back response because of all the violence that happened while the songs were playing….negatively impacted my ability to listen to a woman whom I have the most respect for…I think I have to take the Babb’s approach to my whole LSC stuff because I have a really hard time watching myself perform or even look at pictures of me…I am too critical so I’m gonna take her approach…Babb’s doesn’t watch any of her movies or performances.
Smart cookie from
Music has been big my whole life...there was always music playing and I started playing the piano at 3 so Yeah, music is a huge part of my life.
Aaron was (or I guess, is) a musician. I don't know if he's performing again or not because we don’t have a real relationship but I must say, when you fall for a musician (or artist) you are in trouble because they are really good at creating that vibe of love....2nd chakra stuff, and that's the same place where they play from...
Is that true?
Do all musicians play from the 2nd chakra?
No. Some people play from their heart, others their heads…know what I mean? analytical…methodical….god I got so sick of playing from a theory point of view!
I play from the 2nd and 5th chakra…creation and heart. My heart feels connected to the keys when I play. I completely loose myself when I am free enough to allow the sounds to rebalance my soul…it doesn’t matter what I play, especially with my new headphones…if someone is listening to me I have too much fear of being judged while I am playing…and I’ve secretly wanted to share that side of me with someone. Someone who could understand this huge part of me…but you have to share it first.
No one has heard me play in about 4 years....I mean, Jan and Dara heard me play a couple of songs last summer after I bought the electric piano but really...AND it is not important for me to be heard with my music because it is all release for me. I don't care how I sound and I need complete freedom when I play. That's how I know it is true for me.
None of the men in my life have ever been musicians. I have never, ever shared this part of myself and I thought I was ready to with Aaron. Whew! That was a close call! Has mother taught me anything in the last 24 hours? Yes! Keep yourself protected child!
It’s funny, but when Todd and I got in contact again after 20 years to heal our old wounds, one of the first thing he told me was that in his 40’s he started taking piano lessons and after 3 years his teacher fired him! He is a brilliant surgeon and doctor…really the smartest guy I’ve ever met…he knew the 3 questions he missed on his SAT’s in high school… he placed out of 3 years of med school…smart smart smart…such a turn-on…the brain….I love it. Michael was a lawayer…Leonard, a physicist. OH! I have to write about Leonard…we dated for 2 years but slept together for 10…I tried to have all my girlfriends sleep with him after we were broken-up, he was so good in bed…but he hated that I wanted to share him with other women because I cannot find room for jealousy in my life. It is so unnecessary! There is love everywhere and enough for all of us and each relationship we have with others is so completely different than others…know what I mean?
It’s like this: I am able to love every single person in my life because they are each a reflection of God…even the difficult ones. Jealousy is an emotion I have no attachment to nor do I suffer from it…oh I did when I was young and that really came up in the letters that Todd wrote too so I have been able to reflect on that and realize that I am beyond this immature emotion.
That being said, none of t he men in my life especially in adulthood know me as a musician. They know me as a writer, chef, and all the other hats I’ve worn but not musician…well, maybe Daniel but that was because he brought me out of retirement in 1996 in Seattle…a story for another day…and I’m sure I’ve written about my loving relationship with Daniel and my reentry into the sexual world following my 5 year vow of celibacy while I studied with shaman and all the vision quests…he was younger too and he helped me…hmmmmm…food for thought.
I have a very difficult time playing the piano if I know people are listening to me...it freaks me out. Talk about anxiety attacks? My fear of performing is HUGE!!! But I have no fear when I am talking or cooking or helping people...that's how I know I'm headed in the right direction with work and how I know I made the right choice by not moving to Atlanta with the band.
It is not my wish to be a rock star. I have never wanted that...
But rock stars sure are sexy....and Aaron was a rock star….ooohhh child…sexy? I wanted to send Anne a picture of him he’s so fucking hot…I’m telling you, I really felt chemistry with him, that attraction so powerful and he didn't even let people know that he really was a rock star, back in the day, and he tried to keep it under wraps by being super cool and keeping his head down, doing his job.
Once a rock star, always a rock star. Look at the rolling stones…fucking burn-outs…too much drugs, uninspiring music, but still…ROCK STARS! I see it. He couldn't hide it from me....that's what I loved about the connection he and I had...very strong. When I saw him at work, one little glance from him and I knew that he and I were on the same page. That is attraction…arousal…exciting.
But is it real?
I love that feeling...someone being right on the same wave length as you are...you know at work, when you can have a conversation and still do your job? Pick-up the pieces when you drop something…right there, like a great drummer who keeps time so well that you can improvise with poly-rhythmics in search of a new beat….you need a strong drummer for that and that ability to know that you are so strongly connected…connections… I love it.
Karen and I used to do that all the time at work when we were working together at Cafe Flora together. As our friendship grew (we met there too) we worked more of the same schedule so she and I could hang out and play....we did do many other things besides drinking in those days....like say, The Book…but that is a very long story and I’ll be ready to heal those old wounds soon….not today, especially since there is no pain!
She and I had a great time at work. We were partners (and still are!) and it was so much fun at Café Flora www.cafeflora.com we had a huge lesbian following….two hot women, the dynamic duo who were fantastic entertainers. Karen and I used to give out free advice once a week on the streets of
Anyway… people waited to get seated in our sections, when there were other tables available! This happened a lot when our sections were right next to each other. We’d take care of the guests but we’d have dialogues going on between tables, on the floor and the floor would watch us. Sometimes I’d grab a chair and pull it up to a table, hand them my pad and paper and ask them to write their order down while I talked to some cute guy at the table…or visited with one of our regulars at another table. The customers were always very good…wrote their orders down as I instructed them too and when the food was ready, then I’d tell them and sometimes I’d bring one of them to help me carry the food out…
Funny shit! People love it…being treated as family in public. That intimacy is so strong.
Powerful!!
We were very popular and she and I are still the absolute the best of friends….she is still fucking Hilarious! One of the funniest people on the planet…and that’s what life is about for me…laughter…
See why this is hard for me to let go of Aaron? He was funny too…but you know he and I didn’t share a lot of laughs together…he thought stuff that I did was funny and that was good, and I think he has a sharp wit, but laugh with me like Karen does? No…so is this really hard for me to let go?
No.
He is a habit I’ve gotten into….that is it. A bad behavior that must stop.
I think there’s even a song about that….Frank Sinatra sings it….you’ve begun to be a habit with me? Is that right? I’ll have to find and listen to that song. That helps me.
Musicians…
Very complicated souls.
It is 6:15 AM and the sun is rising. I can see the soft pale yellow glow gently brighten the mysterious dark blue skies and a tender delicate pink glow is surrounding the steel grey clouds…and the music in my head…the Beatles “I got a feeling”…music in my head while I write….the music, the music…music….music…music…
My secret language.
Music is my most secret place. I have so many friends in
Here’s how I know I am not a musician:
When I was rereading the 300 letters from Todd and doing a lot of healing, I was able to remove myself from the situation and observe it from a different point of view. I did the techniques that John Two Birds (Owl Hawk) taught me….the leaving of the body to observe the world around you and gain perspective. Keep in mind; I do not have any copies of what I wrote to Todd. There is no voice from me, only his voice and his perspective about our relationship. I was as fierce a writer with him as I am with you today. I wrote him everyday too…I wrote him sometimes 2 or 3 letters in the same day…the youth have an incredible amount of energy especially around love…
While reading the letters I remembered bits of what was happening in my life based on his responses….for instance: In 1981 (the year Jeff was born! Yikes…maybe he is too young? Anne? Let’s talk…I need your strength…he’s 18 years my junior! Fun?!!) I was involved in a very terrible accident. I had hot pork grease pour down my right leg and I was severely burned. I had 3rd degree burns and I worked with a lot of hicks so they put butter on my burn and didn’t take me to the hospital. I had charred skin on my thigh and Todd was in Med school and all…so we discussed my burn a lot. The good news about that terrible accident is that my mother finally did take me to a doctor at the
It was very painful having the blackened charred skin removed from my upper thigh…a very sensitive place. Touch it on your body. Pull out a hair. Does it hurt a little? Now imagine the top few layers of your skin being pulled off, while you watch from your upper thigh to your knee. Such a soft tender space…anyway.
I was given no drugs for that procedure because the team of doctors needed to be sure there was no nerve damage and there wasn’t…
None…whew! I am very lucky.
But the treatment was very radical. I had to keep the placenta on my leg for 8 weeks and it naturally provided nutrients to my skin and rejuvenated my leg. This was a good treatment even though it was very, very painful. I remember drawing blood from my mothers hand because of the pain…she was right there by my side.
Thanks mom. I am learning how to appreciate you…
God…I can be so stupid….really a waste of time, don’t you think?
Anyway….I believe my point is that I wrote a lot to Todd about being worried about the scar on my leg. His responses were “Don’t worry about the scar…you have your leg…take care of it and it will be fine…” I had a lot of superficial issues that he calmed my fears about….superficiality…so vein…false sense of security through beauty. What a pity.
Being superficial…Karen and I have had many heated discussions about that…I can be very superficial….and that’s why she doesn’t like me attached to the idea of Aaron. She yelled at me last week telling me how foolish I am inviting him over for a provocative moonlight swim and that I implied nudity. What kind of a hussy was I?
But I knew he wouldn’t take any action. Why else would I invite him? I have played poorly with him. I have teased him and played with the idea of him being mine. Very uncool. And…there is….
Nothing real there.
I can see how foolish I have been and how it has kept me down tying my heart somewhere it isn’t free to fly…with my Mom and Karen and of course my sisters, when we are together it is as if that last moment of time was just a blurb…a fleeting second even though years have passed.
I hear you mother.
I hear you Karen.
I hear you Anne.
I hear you I hear you I hear you I hear you I hear you I hear you…
That is how I pay attention. I listen to what is happening around me…
I must find the grace and compassion inside of me to be grateful for the safety the idea of him has brought to me. I can only imagine the freedom that will be created when I finally do meet my partner...partnership. I love the idea of that!
Because I am ready.
Bingo!
Linda is ready…
Is it still hard for me to let go of the idea of Aaron today? Not really. I have to go to the courts to make sure I keep my sweet ass out of jail…I’m too pretty for prison…although I have been told that I’m big but pretty so my size would come in handy in prison. I bet I could hook up with some awesome bitches and I think I might pick a big bull dyke to keep me company at night to protect me…but I got my Mom now…her thoughts are so frikkin loud and she is strong with me again….my fierce mother warrior….
I must let go. Without it I will not move forward.
Dearest God,
I realize I’ve been asking for a lot of help lately. I don’t know if you’ve noticed some of the work I’ve been doing but it’s been huge and today I return to work for another action packed week of adventure and I got a lot of balls in the air. I start off today at the regional offices after I return from the courts….so big shit. It is a big-girl day…brass panties required. I got a big meeting God and I need a clear vision of direction and I need a lot of signs along the way to keep me connected to the right path.
So dearest supreme god…I know you don’t like a lot of flattery but I am compelled to request some extra protection today. I also need to ask for your help in letting go of the idea of me being with Aaron. I can get so attached to fantasy….
Kindest Amma…I ask that you allow me to fall into your soft arms and hug and hold me and rock me as I cry while I let go of all these beautiful ideas that are not meant to be…I so love the romance. Amma sacred Mother, take hold of my heart and help me wrap it with gold mesh to protect it as I venture into the physical adventure of love….for it is time for me to take that step from the fantasy world into reality and into my body. It is time for me to make love with a deep spiritual connection…profound love expressed with trust, beauty, safety, sacred…and non-violent.
Dearest Amma, remove the pain from all crimes against my body that all the men have done to my tender being. I forgive my rapist. I forgive my molesters. I forgive all the men for whom the violence has been expressed in my body…for all that has happened to my sacred temple of a body, especially now that I can see it and see how beautiful each inch of it is…I see my beauty. I no longer need to cover it up with hundreds of extra pounds. I am strong enough to let my little light shine.
Thank you God…Amma…mother father sky…earth stewards…my soul sisters and brothers…thank you for the release. The tears. The pain. The ability to clear out the old so the new may come in…thank you thank you thank you…I am your child and I am beauty. I am honored and accept the experience.
Amen…Ashey…Nameste.
Good by Aaron.
Patsycat
¶ 5:19 AM 2 comments
