I am your slave
not servant
There's no choice in this
Where you go, I am there also
Your will,
my will
one and the same
Let me be at your feet
soaking up the rays of divinity
This is not a show
just the fact of my existence
Born from you, to you
Where is the choice?
You move, I follow
You lead, I dance
There is deep magic here
vast oceans of pleasure
being bonded together
We are one

Surrender...

Your ‘free will’ does not exist. It is the state of not remembering. Of experiencing separation.

Instead of 'free will', try exploring executive action. This is choice from a state of empowered union.

The minute you re-member the Lover from which you came, your illusion of free will is finished. The bottom falls out of ‘you’ leaving only ‘is-ness’.

Falling into the embrace of many lifetimes.

Dissolving into totality, unconditionality, surrender.

Lots of people talk about 'surrender'. They say they're doing it. They point to it. they talk about how their life has got better. And some of them, some of the time, are getting close. But you will know when you've truly surrendered because you will be nothing but bliss and ecstasy. You will have the 'problem' of so much pleasure in your life you don't know where to put it.

Try giving up. Stop manifesting, stop intentioning, stop co-creating, and become empty.

Become a living orgasm. Helpless, reckless, yet full of creative power.

And enjoy it.

​​

​It's not me, it's you.

Let's call this delegation.

This is counter to most streams of thought which tell you that anything you perceive in anyone else is a reflection of something in yourself. So you do your own work and see what shifts. But then you get to a point where this is your own work. Because if you can feel it, you need to call it. Maybe not out loud, but firmly and silently. Because the bigger you become, the more you can feel other people and their stuff. Or they'll unconsciously try to project it onto you. And if you feel bad about seeing negativity in others you'll end up sucking it up. You need to call it. You need to give it a name. Pretending it's not there is not loving. And when you do, don't allow yourself to feel bad or guilty. Demons go for the jugular every time so you need to be tough. They will say: 'you don't understand me or what I've been through', 'I'm being nice', 'I'm just worried about you', 'you are not so perfect yourself' etc. etc. All these things sound reasonable, play to your compassion, and are designed to get you to back off so that you'll leave them alone to be small. It takes practice, but if you do this your relationship with the real person you care about will improve and more love will flow between you. It's actually an act of trust in the other person - you don't need to rescue them from seeing what needs to be seen and correcting it.

It's not me, it's you. Because it puts you back in touch with who you are, standing firm in your inner light. 

This is work in progress. I'm an empathic healer which makes this really tricky so I have been finding rage useful. Allowing rage helps to integrate the shadow body and it's not the same as anger at all. Anger is more superficial, reactive and based in the ego and its attendant emotions. Rage is a much purer cleansing power which bubbles up from your belly in the same way laughter does. Rage is loving, and should leave you feeling light and joyful. It can even be funny. 

Here is a selection of four poems around this theme. Rage-y, muscle-the-demon-to-the-ground-y alchemy: this is me, and it's not ok to be aggressive, passive aggressive, cynical, victimised, reductionist, self-righteous, pious, complacent, patronising or accusatory around me. We are all heart-broken, maimed, limbless athletes in the Paralympics. But we can still GO. ​

 

I am not here to make friends 
to seek reassurances
from you
I am not here to blend in
I am here 
to BE
to express 
something new




Suddenly it’s not ok
for you to deny me
to pretend that I’m not real
to make me doubt my soul
and what I feel
It’s not ok
for you to humour me
to redefine this cynically
I hear your demons
they are carping at me
They want to make me small
so that you don’t have to let go
But it’s not ok anymore 
when I look at the work
that I’ve done
the passion that I’ve shown
the truth that I’ve grown
to feel your indifference 




If you try to give me bullshit
if you are nice 
if you try to be understanding 
show me sympathy
or worry
but we are feeding your pretense 
I will grab you by the throat and shake you
If you take the moral high ground 
I will slap you
and pull it out from under you
It is kinder than the violence 
this does to my soul
If you play the victim I will keep away from you
lest you make me your next aggressor 
I am on my knees 
at the beauty of this
but you are unmoved
Where is your fire?
You are busy, you are tired...
Let me tell you how God is busy
Did you not see
what happened there in that
microscopic moment?
how the universe realigned itself
to my pretty?
Can you do that?
Who will give you permission 
to call the clouds to attention 
the moon and stars to heel?
I want to see the rage in you
that burns your self to ashes
I am not gossiping 
with other inmates
I am standing at the door 
and turning the key
Will you be free?


​

How much love 
do you allow yourself to give?
This is 
the only question 
If you think it is other
your arguments are
clever
But our soul
is a simple
thing
​
​

I bit my tongue three times this week.

Owwwww!

So I had to ask the glaring question...Why am I biting my effing tongue?

What am I not saying?

So many parts of our feminine story are missing from the dialogue. The unconditionality, the sensuality, the calling to account.

This is the job of Shakti. Embracing the sheer complexity of all that is, has ever been and will always be.

Tantra is like forgiveness in motion. It exists because we are all IT, and we are all one, and because there was a Hitler, and there was also an Eva Braun. They are both still here in all of us.

Because the role of Shakti is to surrender, to remember, to use her whole self unashamedly, and raise her beloved to a higher place. It's not about rejecting or withholding. It's about kissing and upbraiding in a single breath. Caressing like a lover, and cuffing like a lioness to her cubs. Drawing lines, but going in. This is the power of the feminine.

It's time to get our hands dirty, and call our beloved home...



Why am I biting my precious tongue?
The tongue is an organ of loving
Feel the love flow between us
The pouring, the gushing
The gentle prattling to your sweetheart
You just want to be known
Confiding in me your lifetimes
All of your stories your learnings
I have the other half of these
The wisdom, understandings
I will explain it all, the primal rush
The love play
The way you slay me
How whatever happens
I still go to pieces when you play
The symphony
Between my tongue and my love
The harmonics of good, and god-like
And what is that! and ninja-sweet attainment
I make it ok in you, the god in you
The stuff that makes no sense in you
Come home to me
Why am I biting my precious tongue?
Torturing this love organ
When we are both speaking through it
Giving and receiving
When the chiding and forgiveness come in two
When you finish my sentences, my being
As brother-sister, one-it-y
While you tickle all my love organs
With your ecstasy, our laughter
I have as much to give
As to receive
I am the engine that makes us go
You need to listen to what I say
As part of you
I find the needle in your hay
And know what to do
It’s ok
You slay me
Come home to me
I am not biting my precious tongue

You might be wondering why my writing is on the provocative side. Well the thing is, if you don't poke something, you don't see what it's made of. You won't find what unconscious beliefs are lurking unchallenged. You won't see what words and definitions spring to mind when someone's taken aback. If you cause a reaction, at least you have a starting point - you've seen where you stand. If not, a lot of lip service gets paid and no one makes any progress.

How many faces of the divine feminine are there? We are beginning to rediscover these widely now through timeless archetypes of the 'goddess'. But how many faces of the feminine are actually allowed to be without attracting censure? You will find that when a woman puts her head above the parapet, she will immediately attract one or more 'definitions'. She may initially even like some of these definitions as they sound quite 'cool', but over time she'll find that they are essentially reductive. They are used to categorise and say, 'I don't have to engage with you fully as a serious being'. 'I know what you are - see I've got a name for it'. This occurs everywhere in our culture, you only need to look at the media to see. It's particularly prevalent in spirituality, where there is an unconscious culture of either the path of an 'aesthetic' or 'respectability'. It's very dualistic, which is what enlightenment purports to take you beyond, yet you see beings who really ought to know better still using stereotypes which are of no help to real women.

Ladies, you are allowed to be female in all its guises, but you are also allowed to be not simply female: a whole being. You are allowed to play with many archetypes, and you're allowed to put them down. You are allowed to draw upon your positive male energy as and when required. You're allowed to be a mother, and you're also allowed to be something other.

This is a long-y, but it's not boring.....


This is not my name
And this is not me either
Neither one nor the other
Nor anything in between
You can't catch me like that
With a label, with a small love...
I dared to love and be dauntless
And you called me a goddess
You fell for me also
So you feared I'm a witch
I'm adept in a temple
So perhaps it's a priestess
I have children at home
Now relax - I'm a mother
But here comes the clincher:
I embrace you as lover...
I think you'll find
All sorts of names for me now?
You moved me
You touched me
You fired my divinity
You wanted me
Felt the flame
Of innocent purity
And as it turns out
I'm not brahmacharyi
Your expectations
Are impossibly low
Your responses
Incomprehensibly slow
Is your maya so great
That you can't let go?
If I quote a few scriptures
You can call me a scholar
Then I'll write a few lines
And a mystic will be
How about
You give the lines to me?
I have some words
You can use:
Lioness, leader,
Razor-sharp mind
Gun-toting, sharp shooting
Kind
Generous, loving
Forgiving, chastising
Delivering
Lover of wine
Guru, disciple
Ambivalent everything
Devoted, triumphing
Shy
Total, unwavering
Trusting, surrendered
Brutal
From time to time
Naked and soft
Susceptible to loving
Mover of energy
Divine
I am Shiva and Shakti
Left handed and right
Scales in balance
But by you undefined
As hero and maiden
I'll slay you a dragon
Then chain myself up
And wait while you find me
Don't try to contain me
To own me with words
To you I will not be bound
This is my name
The nameless ONE
So take your angel and your Devi
And your devotee and your nun
And your good wife and your harlot
And unite them into none
Let me be empty
Let me be loving
Let me be free
To respond to the truth
To the love in you
To the joy of infinity
This is ME



(Funny thing is, I don't think I read Shivoham by Adi Shankaracharya until after I'd written this. If you don't know it, here's a link with translation). You know what they say:
​

My first post! ​

​This poem was inspired by many different things - pictures of yogis wearing little but a loin cloth with no thought for poor women of a sensitive constitution, the jokes shared with the inner beloved, my own experiences meditating.

Give me a camera, and I'll be there....