Monday, April 26, 2010

naked for jesus naked naked naked monday


Rembrandt van Rijn (Dutch, 1606-1669) Naked Woman Seated on a Mound 1631




boobquake.
why should i have to hide the body given to me? i didn't hide from the One in Eden. i refuse to wear shame over having BOOBS. i refuse to wear shame over having a Vagina. I refuse to wear shame for having a Uterus. the One sees me naked always. i follow Jesus. i do not even feign to pretend that i know the mind of Jesus; the ways of the One. there is no male. there is no female. my body is a temple and so i will bare it unashamedly in praise and glory to the One all the days of my life.

---
Ekiti women in protest 2010



i wrote the above to a friend after a certain church-going friend with boobs told her that she would not be participating because '[her] body is for the glory of God'. at first, i was shaking. i was so angry at this person for taking an axe to my beautiful, powerful, and frail friend- in the name of God. i wrote a piece of my heart for my friend. .then, i was still. i have only sadness for this other person with boobs. she chooses to only hear what one sect of socio-historically limited religion tells her to listen to and believe. the One is not an American Reformation Bible'Belt-fostered deity-in-a-box. for this other person with boobs, anything i could possibly share would be outright refused; simply because i have the body to grow a baby & do not adhese my self to this person's religious traditions. finally, i breath. who am i to force any person to live as i live? haven't many of the world religions done quite enough of that throughout the last 2,000 years and beyond; yes. i will only love and wait. it is only the One's place to have the final and absolute say. no person knows what this is. i let it go. i live empowered. i live free. as only the One makes me free.


naked woman by Erika 2006

Sunday, April 25, 2010

sunny walk in the park sunday

My body is no longer my own. It is the canvas of time passing.

My spirit has always been the 3 year-old and the 83 year-old holding hands; each taking shifts to care for the other.

Now my body is slipping away from young. This is an unknown plane.

My body has been the same body for 10 years. Small additions of fat- I finally got boobs!- in womanly places to keep my jeans on and actually have to wear a bra (or do I?) :) The only changes of the young body.

Now? It seems the oils I rub into the skin of my hands never quite soak into the caverns of silky wrinkles from my wrists to my fingertips. The same goes for my face. I think this is the most difficult. My face is rebelling against the image I hold of my self in my mind.

The 83 year-old smiles at me as I infinitesimally change by the hours of my numbered days. She knows. She knows what I hope to understand. What I hope to allow to blossom.

Age.

Ancient experience writing finely on the papyrus of my skin.

The 3 year-old continues to laugh. To dance. To wonder!

Holding hands. It is simply time to give the matron the lead.

I believe in the promise of balance. What better, more breathtaking dance partners than two women. One forever child, one forever perfected in the freedom of death's winking.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

sun through my window thursday

i daydream about having a grand mirrored hall with a wooden dance floor. i daydream about having thick strips of fabric hanging from the ceiling and large circular swings, too. i dream about having this room for therapy. i would lead music and motion therapy.

yoga but better. and way more fun.

you should be here. we would be cirque du solei, suzuki drama, yoga, whatever! using your muscles and bones with purpose in music.

to work through your shit and feel better.

that would be my banner. :]

i love it.

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

death cab and sun tea wednesday afternoon



forgiveness. this i work on. i nose-dive. cement grit into my face. i rise. bathe my infections. patiently cringe as healing takes tedious, itchy, swelling, maddening time.

i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.
God help me; i forgive myself.
i forgive myself.

i forgive myself. forgiveness.

i forgive them all.
i forgive them all.
i forgive them all.
i forgive them all.
i forgive them all.
i forgive them all.
i forgive them all.

i forgive it all.

all.

i forgive it all.

i forgive them all.

i forgive myself.

fuck yes.

:]

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

springtime and questions tuesday

I walk in the park Sundrenched. As I am leaving to go and buy delicious white chocolate, a couple stops me straw-hat, purple dress and flip-flops to ask where butterflies go in the winter. ... :) I instantaneously recite from kindergarten memories of butterfly Cacoon. My final reply, "That is a very good question!" We all laugh happily and say farewell. My flip flop sandals and I meander to the final flower bed.

I watch a peacock butterfly from flower to flower flop drunkenly enjoying what I am sure is a version of quite a divine luncheon.


Beautiful. Beautiful day.

Outside in Spring is my kind of good.





butterflies are caterpillars in winter. how bout that. i think i knew this, somewhere in the back tracks of my mind i hope i see those two tomorrow. i want to know the answer for the question.

(Sigh, smile, sigh)

Saturday, April 3, 2010

saturday of saturdays

I am an arrogant self righteous bitch. Fucking Hallelujah that I admit it and I am clawing through the deeps of my ugliness to obliterate the arrogance, self righteousness; the bitch is probably staying, hopefully with a bit more wisdom each day to shut up and listen first.

I love the One- whatever, however the One exists and IS. So, I try not to be an asshole. Sometimes I succeed.

Try to fucking understand forgiveness. Shit.