Essay: Heartset; There’s No One Left. I’m Alone. (Freebie)


It has finally happened after twenty years. I live alone in my house, no men, no noise, no demands for food or rides, this or that, “Mom can you help me!” “C’ mon, let’s go to the store”.

My son’s dad died nine years ago…the last time I saw him was Christmas Day. Five days later, he was gone. I barely eeked out a smile as I said goodbye. He had been pretty emotionally abusive to me, frustrated his whole life, not knowing he was high-functioning autistic savant until three months beforehand. My efforts at solace could not change his brain, but he was a music legend on the pile of my torn apart heart. In addition, my son did not see his father respect me; the fruits of patriarchy.

Three months later my fiance died. I had fifteen minutes notice. We loved each other and did everything for each other. It was not to be. He had not taken care of his body and it caught up with him.

Now four days ago, my nineteen-year-old son went out the door with his backpack and no notice to start his hero’s adventure quest which is his birthright. Good for him but he could have warned me! It reminded me of the sudden death of my fiance.

On his way out, of course, he was mad at me and said I was so selfish. I suppose because I take care of myself and being a female, that is unacceptable and taboo. I wonder if he thought of the effect of his words on me, skipping them like stones across the water? Doubtful at his age. I’ve been called selfish alot because I’m independent and have my own life that I share with a few people who don’t ask me to stop loving physics and time science just because I’m a girl.

But the men walk out quickly and don’t return I’ve learned, to the other side of this world…or town. It doesn’t matter. They’re not with me.

It is so peaceful in this house without a raucous male. Part of me has waited twenty years to take my body back from my partners and my son, and before that, a line of men, but not a long line.

Now I get an adventure quest; a fresh start, the second half of my life, a thriving business, a home, free to do whatever I want and a body with no risk of pregnancy. I haven’t given it all away.

It’s like this secret I have as a sixty two-year-old who no one would suspect and assumes in our youth-worshipping culture, female-sacrificing altars around every corner, that I’m all washed up. “Hasn’t that woman been laid flat yet? Well, why not?” (My mother keeps literally asking that as though she’s waiting for me to fall) “She’s Selfish!” they cry. With a capital “S” not a small “s”. There is the low self and the Higher Self. No. I just don’t believe in aging and atrophy. I don’t follow programming.

Truth is, I am my own best friend and for the first time in my life, I’m taking care of my body for me and no one else. More and more women are doing it. I’m not alone. We still have work to do and adventure quests to commence. Ridiculous isn’t it.

I feign an attitude and a bird ready to flip until my dying day…because I said so.

Prose; Dissolving


dissolving

Written 9/7/17 I remember writing this. It was a tough one. I was so tired of feeling used.

Dissolve people from my space that do not take care of themselves. I’m not your healer. I’m healing myself from victims and off-loaders. You heal yourself, I don’t heal you. That’s not my head trip, that’s yours.

Dissolve people from my space that think I should be on a saint pedestal just because I have integrity and do good in the world. I’m just a human being that refuses to tolerate certain energy just like everyone else. I’m SO happy to disappoint them when they compete with me when there is nothing to compete with. Everyone is different. Don’t compete with me. Read my book, then compete with the death and suffering that I never hold onto and know how to release. Dare you! No pity. That’s ego too. Compassion is all that’s called for; for me and yourself.

Dissolve people from my space that expect me to lead them into the light and refuse to do it for themselves. I’m not God nor do I want to be. Walk into your own light after I show you how!

Dissolve people from my space that say they care and then try to put me under their boot when they don’t know what they’re talking about.

Dissolve relationship with family members that don’t know how to let go of negative emotion and want me to be as dependent as they are. No. I don’t need to be.

Dissolve ties to people who walk late into a meeting they set up with me and immediately say, even before we begin, that they want nothing to do with me ever again after this meeting. REALLY!? Grow up. There is not going to be a meeting because you want to dominate, not discourse. I don’t work with people who want to dominate. I work with people who respect me enough to be my equal.

You want your power back?… I just handed it back to you because you erroneously gave it OVER to me when I never fucking asked for it!

Dissolve those who are always up to something, say they support you, then they vampire energy from you because they don’t take care of themselves.

Done. Dissolved. Happy to be just human. Happy to never, ever, ever want anyone to put me on a fucking pedestal just so they can try to knock me off to prove something to themselves.

You’re jealous of my strength and achievement? Then be jealous of the death, loss, vampiric sucking, hate, and jealous family to whom I courageously flip the bird to in order to get to this point. I know I deserve to be happy and abundant and not be surrounded by people that want to either worship me or destroy me for their selfish ego purposes.

Go away.

I’m just a human being with friends doing the work I love.

Prose; Skin


pick a tomato

The shell of a turtle, a carapace, guards your continuance of electric water, straight to your brain, pulls your vibration down in by degrees.

Your skin like a husk full of ridges on corn smells sweet,

hard to pull off at the bottom, tassles so soft on my face, the smell of earth.

Your arm was warm and pleasant as the first tomato of summer in my hungry hand.

Let me bite into that luscious fruit, so sweet and tangy

 or a mango stream of juice down my chin.

I’m distracted, clement smells from your back

Why are so sweet yet so smart and severe?

No end to touch makes my breathing peaceful.

I feel happy…oh god I’m doomed.

Indeed, it only lasted one day and you ripped your skin from me again.

At least you can’t take the memory from me.

Words can never erase actions like skin can never cover feelings.