I've been in an abusive relationship before. It never became physical but the mental, emotional, and even spiritual warfare was real. The miscellaneous, unexplained bruises on my body left in the wake of the relationship were real. I remember that in one the last conversations I had with him I could feel a piercing pain in my throat. That pain was real. Sickness came over me just like it did when we first met. I remember in our final meeting after I cried in my house for hours determined to only cry once over the situation how I sat across from him. I think I put a curse on him in that moment. I had no words; I just rocked back and forth staring at him. In my head I said, "You are going to get it."  I came home after it was all over, moving states, a shell of young woman.

All of that over a relationship that lasted no more than six months. I met him when I was lonely and had something to prove to myself. I wanted to have a successful relationship and I didn't want to go about that time in my life alone. Most of my peers had partners and from the outside looking in, it looked great, desirable. Then he showed up. There were warning signs from the beginning. He had a dark, gloomy energy despite his seemingly positive, helpful demeanor. His car was full of bags which meant he didn't really have a home and had too much baggage (emotional, mental, and physical). There were other signs that only I would get, my personal intuitive clues, like his writing style, his name, and his appearance amongst others. The biggest sign for me was that during my month and half long sickness, he cared little about my comfort or wellness. The same person who professed his love for me within three weeks of knowing me.

Of course, he had to have redeemable qualities. Why would I have been with him? He was helpful with technology...even though you can't convince me that he didn't break my external drive that had all of my artwork on it. He was a great dancer...even though he only seemed to dance with himself (awkward).  He knew how to apologize...except not to me, but to men he was afraid of, I have never heard more beautiful apologies. He was affectionate...mostly in public. He was nice to me, in public. He was health conscious, obsessively so (annoyingly so). He was witty. He was creative. He had awesome friends. He took out the trash. He cleaned my house without my asking. He was incredibly helpful...but it didn't come without a price.

I feel I attracted him into my life because of the larger questions I was asking rooted in my limited understanding of relationships and the desire I had to be in a relationship. I wanted to understand my parents failed relationship. I wanted to understand a lot of the relationships I saw my close friends experiencing. Even though I knew they weren't great relationships, I didn't know the reasons exactly. This guy served as an amazing teacher. He helped me see the things I needed to heal. When he inadvertently helped to recreate an unpleasant scene of my parent's past (that I only knew in story form) I knew I had issues to work out. He showed me that difference between unconditional love and whatever he thought he was offering. My great desire not to fail in a relationship showed me some of the greatest ways they do fail: Lack of honest communication, running away from childhood issues, not healing from past traumas, lack of self-love, lack of self-awareness, inability to forgive, lack of integrity, ignoring your intuition, and lack of self-control to name several.

I felt so much shame when it was all over. I was ashamed that I chose someone who would call me names and disrespect me in private and public. I was ashamed that I even spent a day with him. I was ashamed I shared myself with him at all. I was ashamed I didn't beat him up. I was ashamed that I was afraid to end the relationship. I was ashamed that I didn't listen to my intuition. I was ashamed that the relationship proved my imperfection. I was ashamed that I was sad that the relationship ended. I was ashamed that in ways he pulled away from me before I did from him. I was ashamed that I would have this story to tell.

When I came home, my mother and an unlikely friend nursed me back to health. I was supposed to be celebrating a great accomplishment I made in my life, but I instead found myself weak, underweight, distraught, and dramatically laying on my mother's bed in a state of shock. They loved me and gave me room to forgive myself. I wrote angry unsent letters (no one would let me send them). If communication with him wasn't necessary, I didn't do it.  After awhile and a few self-help books, I was able to see that in ways we were both hurt children. The big difference was that I was actively addressing my issues. It was my budding awareness of myself that created an exit for me. My ego and inner child took a beating, but my heart didn't, it was just starting to reveal itself to me. Following that relationship I made healing, forgiveness, self-awareness, and self-love my priority. I love the woman I have become. I'm thankful for that relationship. I can now identify those kinds of relationships with very little effort and even though no one likes to hear it, I'm accurate.

And for those of you who are wondering, he did "get it"...but when someone lives in that much pain, there isn't much that truly hurts them. Pain is their modus operandi. They feel lost without it as much as they claim to dislike it. So my little "Celie, Color Purple" moment was reflecting who he was and did very little to change his circumstance. It also did nothing for me. I didn't get up and leave empowered...and in the years that followed I felt no satisfaction. What if I, in that moment, decided to  beam him love of the unconditional variety? No more words, wanting nothing in return, looking into his eyes, calling on the purest of love to flow through me, and beaming it straight at him. Release. Hmmm...

It was another Free Reiki Friday and I had a humongous list. There were many people who were on the list that I didn't know at all since I posted the event in an international Reiki group. As I received notification that a new person was attending I would write their name down on my list and from where they sent me their intention to participate, twitter, email, facebook, etc, so that I could follow up with them later. On that day I sent Reiki to many people whose names I couldn't pronounce. These were the kind of names that I had to carefully copy because I wasn't sure how the letters even came together to make sounds. I didn't know if they were young or old, male or female. All I had was a name that revealed zilch.

So let me tell you the story about my session with someone I will call Rihkpeyhg...
Rihkpeyhg came to me via facebook. Prior to the session, I didn't look at their profile picture or do any research as I figure it to be unnecessary and time-consuming. Immediately I was drawn to the area of their sacral chakra. It felt feminine. I could feel a softness and a sensuality. As I stayed there, I started to feel a great sexual desire. Based off of cultural precepts, it would have been easily interpreted as masculine as we sometimes think only men have intense sexual desire. The feeling of sexual desire in Rihkpeyhg was strong, overwhelming, but I also got the sense that they didn't get to exercise their sexual prowess as much as they would like. Immediately I got the message that they needed to channel the energy into creative projects so that they can be more balanced and productive. I got the sense that the desire was taking over their life. As I tried to move throughout their field, I kept on going back there. Marvin Gaye was playing on my radio and the mood was very clear. Needless to say, from all of that swirling around in that sexual, creative energy, I was enjoying the session. Even though I loved how it felt, I knew a part of my job was to impart wisdom on how to use the energy. The Reiki energy flowed from me helping to bring balance to Rihkpeyhg and so did the message. I wrote down everything I got and then moved on to the next person.

After all of the sessions were done, the arduous task of sending everyone their personal messages began. At that point, I had mostly forgotten the details of their sessions and relied on my notes. Since I had to send Rihkpeyhg the message I had for them, it also meant I was going to see what they looked like. In my mind I had pictured Rihkpeyhg to be a middle-aged man who hadn't got any in a while based off of the feeling and the message. I felt like the message was saying, "Look dude, you are going to have to do something else with all of that energy 'cause you ain't getting none...at least not to match all that you have going on." I was shocked and bemused to find out that good ole Rihkpeyhg was a teenaged girl, and not the legal kind. Immediately I was questioning what I should do because essentially I would be talking to a child, who wasn't my own, about sex. When in doubt, do more research, right?

I dug deeper and realized that this girl had a boyfriend and even though I wasn't about that life at her age, I knew plenty of girls that were. I had to sit my inner virgin down and give her the message intended for her. While staying true to the message, I wrote to her as if her parents were over her shoulder reading her private messages. I was honest with her telling her I hesitated in relaying the message, but I also let her know what I picked up focusing the message on telling her alternative ways she could use the energy. I also lightly, like a dust particle in the atmosphere, acknowledged that she clearly wanted to boink her boyfriend. She replied with a big thank you and I felt relief when I felt her receive the message and the energy.

Ahh to be young and receive Reiki... The whole thing made me think about how cool it would have been if I knew someone like me when I was that age. No judgment, just wisdom. I'm glad Rihkpeyhg wasn't a middleaged man. She taught me a lot.

All of my posts are related to the direction my Reiki practice is going and it seems like the theme as of late is all about relationships. Take this ride with me as we delve into my mind (filtered through my heart) to get to a bit of what it means to really have a healthy relationship. I have been spending the last two weeks (at least) working to have a deeper understanding of our connection as men and women because the demands of my practice have prompted, no, demanded me to go there. I am convinced that we are supposed to be together, us gals and guys. Our biology has us fitting together like puzzle pieces, sure, but it is more than that. It is in the pull and draw we emit towards each other that goes beyond words and explanation. We use the word "love", but right now I feel it isn't enough. It is the bond that goes beyond breath, sight, sound...into stillness. It is in our ability to create new life. Everything I have written isn't news to anyone I am sure, but I ask you to act like it is. Just do it. I go through this process every time to gain deeper insight; I assume nothing. Do that with me now.

I had this vision of men and women having a party together in some distant desert land. The women crowned in golden headdresses, the men draped in golden sashes, and the mummified corpse of their matriarch adorn in light blue and gold gently watching over the people as they revered her. Her presence got the party started. They had a ceremonial courting dance of sorts. The women would kick out their feet to the drum beat while flicking their wrists as they crossed their chests. The men would dance around the women with their backs to them as their shoulders seemed to lead the direction of their bodies. As the men would get closer to the women, the ladies would further entice by placing their hands on the sides of their face making a bursting like motion. It was a swirling dramatic scene. I sat in all white watching them in awe and wonder. They were so happy and exuberant. Joy twinkled in their mingling and I felt like a kid peaking in on my parents. But then there was a turn of events. The men started to be called away to a duty of some sort. It felt like war, a struggle only they would experience. As the men were disappearing the women kept on dancing. It was like they didn't want to lose the moment, their culture. The kept dancing but the movements, although precise, lacked their previous luster. The men started to comeback but now they were in the background, the sidelines, just watching. The women now danced with themselves. There was little interaction and it was almost like the men were never a part of this once sacred dance. The vision ended.

The first thing that came to mind was the so-called independent women (and men) of our time. What does it mean if it just means you have become accustomed to a lackluster life? What does tradition mean if it is no longer dynamic for the whole? If together they could make so much magic, why not find a way to do it in the new conditions? We create NEW life together, don't we?

The second thing that came to mind was understanding how the individual experiences we have in relationships  often go overlooked or ignored. When we bond sexually with anyone it goes beyond the physical experience; you have made a secure connection with that person's energy. That is where the true marriage really happens, but so much of our current culture thrives in ignoring this reality. Without intercourse I can feel the emotions of someone else because I am an empath. It took me years to realize certain emotions were not my own and without emotional intelligence dealing with these mysterious emotions can be crippling and downright terrifying. In a relationship although your partner didn't experience your day, they feel all of the emotional baggage you have picked up through the bond you have made with each other. If your way of being with your emotions is to ignore them or pushed them down, then you have done the same to your partner. There can be no growth together if that's how you roll and there isn't a place for them in your world or on the dance floor. If what they are feeling is beyond the scope of your experience, it means you have to sit down and listen so that you can learn about what you are ALREADY empathizing and work through it together. That is the commitment you made when you were doing all that dancing and legs spreading. You bonded to their physical body consciously and most likely unconsciously to their mental, emotional, and spiritual body as well. A relationship cannot thrive if you ignore this.

I want to say there is a third thing just to keep this going but I don't think I had one. I did start talking to my friends about it, my vision. I told them they were going to help me write a blog and love them to bits, they did. I received both feminine and masculine perspectives because I love balance. What I found in talking to them is the same issue that I have consistently come across, the inability to receive. In so many cases, when one partner is put in a position to fend for themselves (often the woman) they form a protective shield. It becomes hard for them to receive because they have been accustomed to doing everything for themselves, being independent. The shock of acquiring these survivor skills is the same force that holds them into their pattern. The biggest problem is that this act (the holding pattern) isn't done out of trust or love, it is out of fear and and illusion of necessity.  So this is the shift that needs to be made. We have to start moving into trust and love. We have to open our hearts and listen to its wisdom and open our legs and receive our puzzle piece (HA!). As we listen to our hearts, we have to recognize the connection we have to each other. Ever heard of the phrase, "Loving me is loving you."? If you really embark upon the journey of knowing yourself, you will also start to see all of your issues that are waiting to be healed. As you love each one, you also extend that love to your partner and then the legs start to creak open a little wider...bit by bit.

I'm convinced we weren't meant to do this life thing alone. Physically you entered the world alone but the bonds you have made along the way go way beyond the human flesh. Michael Jackson said, "you're just another part of me" and "you are not alone". I think he was going somewhere with that. It is up to us to break the pattern. He has to ask that lady to dance and lay out his confessions in his motions (energy in motion=emotion). She has to say yes and allow her body to move with his. His motions are new and different, but she is skilled at receiving this new knowledge, and finding her own rhythm as they groove. As they stay in this flow, they create something new, because that is what they do. They know as long as they have the music, the floor is theirs, and they always have the music.

So...
Open your legs to healthy relationships. Open your legs to greater knowledge of self. Open them up to learning something new about your partner. Open them up to trust. Open your legs to that loving lion. Open them legs to divine partnership. Open 'em up to emotional intelligence. Open 'em     w  i  d  e     to healing.

When we heal together...

Dear Mother Mamochka Mom Ma,
If you ask me who created me, human me, I never attribute it to some invisible god in the ether somewhere. I will tell you with full clarity that my creator is you. The glory goes to you. There are times when I talk about you with my friends and I have to pause. In those moments, I realize I have the greatest mother on the planet and other planets I am sure. I know I chose you to be my mother. It wasn't an accident or random plan. No, I waited for the right time to enter into this world and I chose you to be the one who would create the way for me to exist. Thank you.

I know being my mother is not the easiest role. I live in a world of dreams and imagination and in so many ways I have asked you to trust something that you couldn't see over and over again. It has been the theme of our journey together and you believe in me in ways not everyone could. With each moment that passes, I seek to bring more from that world into this one and it amazes me that you stand by me, but you do. Even when I have doubted my own capabilities there you were, there as my mother, watching me, listening to me, and reminding me who I am. If there was ever a moment that you said you couldn't, I would understand, because I am more than grateful that I have gotten this far with your love. It has always been my intention that I could show you just a bit of what I see and I know I have done that and I have so much more I want to show you.

One day I looked at my life and took an inventory of all of my accomplishments, my triumphs, my miracles, and I realized that my none of those experiences happened without your support. Not one. Even when I thought I did it all by myself, I knew it wasn't true. Mom you know my heart and understand it somehow. I look at the way you love me and I'm speechless. You never told me what to believe in. You gave me the space to discover for myself. You have never asked me to be someone I wasn't even as you realized you were raising "the princess", "sleeping beauty", "the eccentric", and "the queen" all rolled into one. Some would say I am spoiled, but I disagree, because the work that I do now, where I pour my love into people who are seeking to grow and heal wouldn't be possible without your support...and I think that those who work with me know it. If I am spoiled, then so is anyone who knows me and spends time with me because I love them the way you love me.

As I told you, everyday is Mother's day, but I am happy to say, Happy Mother's day! to you. You are the one that loved me, inspired others to love me, held me, fed me, watched me sleep, bathed me, sang to me, and changed my dirty diapers... and I am so grateful you did. You raised my brother and I by yourself, in a hot desert, with very little help, and constantly created opportunities for us to realize our own greatness. I never saw you give up or say it was too much. You always seemed endless. I now know it is because you are...endless. There isn't a doubt in my mind or heart that I have the world's greatest mother. 

Mom, it shocks me to think that there is a soul who chooses me right now and that one day I will be there for her the way you have been for me. Just as your mother did for you, you have taught me well. I know I can do it too, and in my way pass on our family's tradition of transcendent, royal, dreams into reality, magical, unconditional love. You have created the way for me to exist as your mother did for you. I ask you to never think you have lost your abilities. We have free will but a mother's love opens the way for us to step into a greater vision. You are my creator and my goddess. I love you and I believe in you.

My uncle took me to the train station one evening and waited with me for the train's arrival. There were a group of women waiting as well that he seemed to be focused on. Suddenly he asked me to come closer. He had a strong look of concern on his face so I obliged. He spoke firmly, "When you get on the train, I don't want you in the same car as them." "Why?" I asked. "Because she is a crack dealer," he answered in a serious voice. I was shocked and even felt a little anxiety. I looked over at the women trying to figure out how he knew. My eyes traveled down to the woman squatting in her super low-rise jeans...CRAAACK!

Hee hee hee! Okay but really I am not talking about that kind of crack and really I am not talking about the kind that Whitney said was "Whack"...but lets use it as an metaphor for experiences we don't need to have. I think it is safe to say that most of us who have seen the effects that Crack cocaine has on people would never touch the stuff. It isn't something you need to negotiate or think over. It truly is common sense, crack is clearly whack. People on crack look horrible and their lives look completely undesirable and inside you say that there is no "high" worth that kind of outcome. So it is pretty easy to say no to crack on the streets but how about the rest of  the "crack" in your life?

The "crack" I am talking about are those glaring red flags and blaring warning signals that come up for you that you ignore, those alleys you have already been down, the people you have already tumbled with, or those disasters you have already  witnessed. All the signs are there but you put the blinders on because you must know for yourself. It is like a pregnant crackhead inviting you over to her "mansion" for dinner and you never seeing that she is pregnant and a CRACKHEAD! Your friends can see it and try to remind you of  the reality of pregnant crackheads but you never figure it out. You have tunnel vision and are refusing to see the full environment; you must have YOUR experience. You walk right into the crack house and ignore the filth and take what she serves you, CRACK. You experience euphoria like never before and are immediately hooked. You smoke searching to feel as good as you did the first time but that never happens. Eventually you reach rock bottom and barely recognize yourself. You reach out for help and you get it.  You put the pipe down and then go through the pain of detox. And even though you recover, the smell of crack still stays with you like a lust-filled temptation and it is with your will that you never pick up the pipe again. Don't get me wrong, some of the most wise and amazing people I have met have been formerly crack-addicted and so in some way I see the value of the experience. But is it really necessary to experience crack? Can't you use some wisdom and discernment to just say no?

When I was young my mother who worked in an inner-city school took me to parent teacher night. One of the students parents was addicted to crack. That night my mother had me study her and showed me how crack had affected her body, mind, and spirit. A year or two later, during summer school, the same student came to my mother to seek refuge. I happened to be there that day and I watched her eat a small can of sauerkraut because it was the only thing the drug dealers who raided her home earlier that day left in the cupboards. I learned quickly that it was not a favorable substance. Life shows us many lessons just like the one I had, about a myriad of experiences. Can't we agree that we don't have to experience everything or at least learn from the experience enough not to repeat it?

We often have patterns that we repeat, paths that we walk over and over again, until we learn the lesson. Along this journey, there are situations and people that represent the "crack", the powerful substance that is attempting to pull you back into the loop. I am proposing that instead of dating him, working there, or smoking the "crack", you use discernment and wisdom to just say no.  Know that even though it may have been awhile since you last touched the pipe, crack is still crack and it is whack.  Everyone's "crack" is different. What is crack for me might be your ambrosia.  Know yourself, it is up to you to step back and become the observer to be able to see the crack. In the great words of Johnny Cochran, "If it doesn't fit, you must acquit." Don't waste your time building a case to judge because all that really means is that you are still smoking that crack. Detect the crack and then step the hell back.

So I ask you, can you detect the "crack" in your life?
Here is a small sample of my crack...
a guy who takes bathroom pictures of himself = crack
institutions and hierarchical systems = straight crack rock
modern hip hop = a big fat bag
certain body odors = garbage rock
a victim mentality = cookie
smokers = base
a particular use of language = roca (espanol)
certain writing styles = hard rock
conditional love = Devil's dandruff

Life is a dream and if you can recognize the signs and symbols put forth for you, you will be well on your way to a crack-free existence.

I write about love a lot. I can talk endlessly about love, and being that this is the season of romantic love, I thought I might share a bit about the type of man I love, my kind of Boo-peice.  This is for all of you who think women only like a certain kind of man or for those who think that there is no such thing as a "good" man. I am fixin' to create one right now. Don't believe me, just read.

I love a playful man, a man who knows how to have fun in any situation. There is nothing worse than seeing a grown man be serious about everything. Yuck. I find it incredibly repulsive actually. See the man I love has a set of gold teeth on hand just in case we need to make a quick fake music video.  He has jokes about preachers, spiritual folks, career folks, and anyone who is a little too serious. He gets me a thong that he knows I will never wear just to dance around in it and make me laugh. He sings me silly songs when I am in the bathroom for "support" and "inspiration". He laughs while waiting in long lines. He will dance slow to fast songs, fast to slow songs, and grind to country music (ow!).  I love an imaginative man. I give him a word and he gives me a fantasy. He is friends with the orange dragon that flies me around at night as well. He sees that the sky is red and that the moon smiles. He is always creating something, never without ideas, and full of magical solutions. He wakes up ready to bring something new into the world and goes to bed knowing he has accomplished it. The gorgeous world he lives in, started in his mind. I love a gentle man. His strength isn't in "fronting" or acting like he is "hard", it is in walking tall in his gentleness. His nature makes people trust him and want to be around him and because of this, he is protected. Because of this, he can protect others. Oh and his massages are painless and transcendent. I love an intelligent man. He knows if he starts quoting other people, I will not be impressed (unless it is the late, great Johnny Cochran). He knows that if he is afraid of something and doesn't address it, I will remind him of emotional intelligence. He knows that when it comes to complaining and being the victim, ain't nobody got time for that. He knows that it feels great to take responsibility for his life. He knows I love a man courageous enough to be who he truly is, no matter how "crazy" that may look. I love a courageous man. He dives into the mystery. He reads something like this and doesn't flinch. He rises to the challenge to follow his destiny. He doesn't need the armor that a large ego provides. He lets his heart lead him. He serenades me with a mediocre voice in a crowded room but his courage and focus makes it sound angelic.

I love a man who loves himself. He doesn't claim to be perfect but because he truly loves himself he likes where he is going and how he is growing. He faithfully commits to expressing who he his. He loves himself because he knows who and what he is. He loves himself so that he may truly love others.

I love a childlike, magical, kind, confident, daring, loving man because that is the only kind of man I am willing to travel this world, create, and live on a farm with.

This love-filled outpouring was brought to you by meditation, Reiki, talking with my ancestors, listening to my heart, and Whitney Houston (again). Now go out there and dare to love what you know you truly love!

    I am sure most people have heard that in order to truly love someone else, you must first love yourself. In the past, whenever I heard this, I would always nod my head in agreement. It made perfect sense, of course, you must love yourself. I thought I did love myself ....or maybe I never even considered it on my list of things I had to do. It wasn't until after a few failed relationships I started to reevaluate this so-called love I had for myself. That statement came back again and this time I listened even harder and asked my ego to take a backseat. There wasn't any head-nodding this time, just stillness and a little shock. Maybe I didn't really love myself, but now that I know that, I am going to get on it. Yes indeedy! Let me get right on it...After marching off to get started, I realized I really didn't know how or where to even begin this love affair. Google to the rescue!
    After lots of reading and searching, I started the mirror technique. I would look in the mirror for about 5 minutea, deep into my eyes and say, "I love you." It was hard at first and there were times I couldn't actually go through with it. Sometimes I cried tears of joy and sadness. It was hard to distinguish between the two. Eventually I was having near orgasms when I looked in the mirror. I still get a little excited. I am getting excited just thinking about it...But that isn't the point of this entry. Essentially, I did mantras, prayers, treated myself to good food, bought a cute dress, went on adventures, and whatever else that was recommended and I felt the love....I did, but there was still something  off. The love didn't really reach me to my core and I really didn't know how to do that. I was in love with the me who lives in this material world, but the real me, I was still ignoring. So when it came down to it, I still didn't know how to love ME.
When I first became attuned to Reiki, I felt a sense of love that I never felt before. My heart felt mushy (still does) and I wanted to hug strangers and cradle them in my bosom (maybe just the babies). A love portal truly opened up inside of me and even though it was a new feeling, I also knew it was always there. I only had glimpses of it before. It forced me to go back to understanding what it means to truly love myself and all of the things that got in the way.
So what did I figure out? What has been the pathway towards true love for me?

Wait for it...

LISTENING, CREATIVITY, and ACTION. Love is a feeling but 'to love' is an action. It is something that you share. I had to realize that I truly am in a relationship with myself and looking in the mirror and buying myself nice things weren't going to cut it. I had to go deeper. I had to listen to my inner voice and give to her, honor her, appreciate all of the unconditional love she gives me. So with the energy of Reiki (which is like a love expressway), I have learned to go in and listen. I meditate and ask questions. I listen...and then I create. I create a world for myself through writing, art, and communication that echos the love I hear in my heart, the love that is given to me unconditionally. It takes a lot of trust and effort to do this, to write the words that I write to myself, to make the things I make for myself, to give to a place without any limitations or rules, and to know that I am loved for all of it.  Creating my heart song is truly my greatest act of self love. It the truest love I could give myself and as I have learned it comes back and gets deeper and deeper. Love truly is a journey.

If you made it this far...hahaha...  What is your greatest act of self love? How do you love yourself? Can you look into your eyes and say "I love you" without looking away?