Category: prose

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Prose; brought to my knees


Rumi Water

“I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day.”― Abraham Lincoln

Sometimes memories go deeply away into the unconscious like a rabid dragon.

But sometimes they rear their grotesque head and fill my colorless brain in the morning.

My 16-year-old son, coming in the front door and dropping to his knees, weeping, after seeing his Dad for one of the last times before he died was a moment like that. They had a little sacramental exchange showing they were bonded forever head to heart.

It’s four years extinct (in 2019) but there is a harrowing rock between my throat and my heart that wells up bereaved tears into my eyes and makes my mangled heart break, wondering where all the music in the house went? His dad was a musician. And what of my son’s future without his father?

Three months later my fiance died, dropped to the floor at the hospital from the flu and never came back awake. I felt like I was going to die standing there. I felt my fledgling spirit try to leave my body. Some friendly phantasm kept me there and I just went into numbing shock while a hospital helper offered me an innocuous sandwich. I thought I was going to throw up my soul. How could she offer me a sandwich? It was very odd to me.

Why am I even still here?

Death is always around me but I am full of Life. What vortex do I live in that protects me in this fragile dimension? My own.

A prophetic, intuitive one that takes great joy in serving my fellows and honing my vital body. Still, that doesn’t stop the sudden onslaught of being brought to my knees with grief and awe at what I’ve been through but still alive.

Well, part of me is not. Part of me died with them.

The death of someone you love is not something you get over. It’s something you live with and becomes part of your saliferous breath. Life is not a happy merry-go-round for most of us and there’s no point in pretending.

(Dave died December 2015. Michael died March 2016)

©️Lisa K. Townsend, 100%

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Prose; brought to my knees


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Can Time be Measured?


Can time really be measured? It’s like trying to measure 0 or infinity. ♾️ Ultimately, there is no time. It’s an illusion, a ghost of manifestation of stuff for learning only.

So, no, it can not really be measured.
That’s why the days pass in life, babies grow up, houses and mates come and go and before you know it, you can feel that time didn’t really pass at all yet you called it years.

Something always stood still, no movement unless your mind or heart really changed. Somehow, that is beyond your body. It’s your breath.

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Colossus


Sharing a fellow bloggers post; from Fauxcroft

Seek to stand with your feet upon mountains Standing astride like a colossus of life, Viewing life and seeking the balance Seeing where there is destruction, And seeing where there is life evolving And then feeling the power within your soul, Then connect with the environment and with nature Then become one with the universe […]

Colossus
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Mystic Mamma Speaks to The New Moon


 
NEW MOON in LOVE:::LEO is auguring a wave of profound change. Big wheels are turning, generating momentum to close out cycles and to catapult us unto brand new shores. In the astrological speech, we are heading toward the much-anticipated conjunction of the great Awakener Uranus with Mars, the planet of taking action on our desires, all coming together on the North Node, our point of Destiny.

The energy of this conjunction will perfect on August 1st and is akin to a sudden wave arriving to lift us to the next level of our journey. The way this will manifest will of course be different for each of us, but what I have been receiving is that it could be a turning point on our own personal evolutionary path that is ultimately guiding us toward a more complete and embodied understanding and experience of LOVE. LOVE, after all, is the catalyst that inexplicably and unexpectedly cracks us open. It is what heals us, lifts us, and ultimately brings forth the deepest transformation within us. This love I speak of is the transcendent love that has been experienced by mystics of all faiths, where Love transfigures us from the inside. There is a turning point, where we no longer doubt it or question it.

It is the feeling of being loved so completely that great grace and kindness toward Self descends upon us and restores our original blueprint. This inner alchemy can be sparked by many varied experiences, but ultimately it is a love of Self that permeates our inner landscape and like Buddy Guy sings, it feels like rain. We can ease into the comfort of our own skin, and allow our truest selves to emerge. 

We are creatures of the wild reclaiming our multidimensional natures. Leo says, even though we might feel afraid, we must have the courage to stand with our hearts wide open and trust in the Great Mystery. For LOVE is a CURRENT rushing in to transform us. (there’s no holding back the dam) LOVE is a CURRENCY. It is the currency we must all invest in, trust in, and stream in. May love reign.

I love you with all my heart! Mijanou~MM  

In the spirit of Leo’s generous heart… Purchase any Limited Edition Print from my collection, and get a second 8″ x 8″ Altar Print to gift to your Beloved for 25% Off! Is there a loved one in your life that would be lifted by receiving a gift from you? An Altar Print for their own Altar of Self-Love? Extended through this lucky portal through the LION’s GATE on 8/8! Browse the entire Collection of ART … >>>  GALLERY OF MM ART  <<<  +++  thank you for your beautiful support always!x  +++ SHOP MYSTIC MAMMA ARTLOVE DONATIONS
love love+. +. +. ++ + ++ ++.  This e-mail has been sent to lisa.townsend76@yahoo.com, > Click here to UNSUBSCRIBE. MYSTIC MAMMA PO BOX 262 TOPANGA, CA 90290 

I went and hung out at Buddy Guy’s on Belmont in Chicago all the time when I lived there in the 90s. I didn’t live far from there in a brownstone in Roscoe Village. Not surprisingly, I worked for a Union and was a strike organizer as well as assistant to the President of the largest Social Security Local that represented our SSA workers nationwide.

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Not so cynical


By fauxcroft

https://wp.me/p7pDJc-aJX

Don’t be fooled by false flags

And untrue realities,

In this corrupt world

In which we all exist

Truth is the biggest casualty,

Not everything is what it seems

And things change very quickly,

Don’t take sides because they all lie

And that’s just no me thinking cynically.

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Breaking Shackles Of The Ocean Of Conditioned Society


This is a shared post by a fellow blogger. I didn’t write it.

Have you ever drowned in the ocean of society? Having tasted the emptiness of positions and perks, society roles and responsibilities? Hypocrisy breeds yet ironically aren’t we all immersed somewhere in this conditioned ideology? Aren’t we always in a hurry and frantically running to fulfil the dreams fueled by this toxic energy? Dreams manufactured […]

Breaking Shackles Of The Ocean Of Conditioned Society
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The sex sense – an alien perspective on love and reductionism


I took an Excedrin for the morning’s headache, got back in bed and did some Wim Hof Migraine Breathing. Three cheers for our pal, Mr. Hof!!! The pain vanished, and the caffeine took me back to the words of my dear mother, God rest her soul. “We live in a sex cult.” Yeah, right out […]

The sex sense – an alien perspective on love and reductionism
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A Matter of Opinion


aerial photography of water beside forest during golden hour
Photo by Sindre Stru00f8m on Pexels.com

“Some people need to take their own advice instead of endlessly propelling it at others. “The truth” is only “their truth” which is just their opinion. There are facts of science and nature. But when it comes to people, it is all relative. It is a matter of opinion.”-Me, Lisa K. Townsend

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Intimacy; Familiar Lover


aerial photography of water beside forest during golden hour
Photo by Sindre Strøm on Pexels.com

It’s so much easier to melt into your warm flesh because I know how you smell and your voice.

It’s just the nurturing comfort I need right now but you won’t kiss me as you did before.

Something is distinctly unfamiliar…

You feel different in my bed, humidity on a dry, cold, windy day when the sun is loitering in the sky rather than actually warming things up.

You’re a woke soul, a man not a boy with your dreams doing cartwheels.

It’s not love, it’s familiarity which so many humans mistakenly wrap their arms around in tribal joy.

No doubt, what is familiar today will change tomorrow and that intrepid fact is forever familiar all around us.