iGoddess has seen the Year of Secrets, the Week of Juxtapositions and the Land of Simultaneous Opposites, and the body of my enemy --*jd*-- floating by in the river. iGoddess has tasted miracle concentrate and the dust of the bones of my antepasados. iGoddess has taken the vows of the revolutionary freedom fighter for truth, beauty, and Funk. iGoddess has answered the clarion call of the pronoiac. iGoddess has visited the Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail. iGoddess has lived through delena facing and embracing her greatest fear: Love.
these past couple of weeks have actually been a very trying time for me, and i wonder that i could have done so much better in how i dealt with it. however, i am rather ashamed to say that i let my inner flaming narcissist run away with me. i cared more about my own pain and confusion rather than rising above it to be there for *m*, who has so quickly become my funkiest groovemate. while i'm proud to say that i never withdrew from those who love me, i didn't trust myself enough to avoid talking and posting the fear and hypocrisy i could feel coiling in my belly. hence why i posted the EBS.
iGoddess isn't about self-pity, or letting insecurity surmount upon itself. if i couldn't keep my grip on the Funk...if i couldn't keep my focus on pronoia and my duties as a revolutionary freedom fighter...i simply had no place saying anything at all for a while.
i let my own weakness and love for my pain blind me to the simple fact that i was being snotty and uncommunicative. i fell into old habits brought on by simple fear. and it was stupid fear: fear of leaving this place. leaving home, leaving my parents, leaving *cc* and *mj*, leaving everything i've built that i love, leaving the land itself which i've loved like a part of me.
but portland will not run its fingers through my hair, or kiss my forehead when i'm falling asleep. portland won't make me laugh so hard i snort my drink up my nose, or be that warm presence in bed beside me. portland won't eat the dinner i've spent all evening in the kitchen preparing, or encourage me when work's been stupid and filled with drama.
having *m* so close by these last two weeks really makes his absence that much more achingly apparent now. it also taught us quite a few things about ourselves, i think, and about each other as individuals and as a pair.
we learned that while we find the other easy to talk to, and we have a lot to talk about, we need to learn how to talk to each other. more importantly, we need to learn how to hear what the other is really saying. at one point, after a week of our cold war, i finally forced myself to ask myself how it would affect me if i suggested *m* go home alone. sure, it would have been easier, and i could have chalked it up to originally not really wanting a relationship anyway. it would have been the best excuse to not even consider moving out of portland. if we couldn't even spend a week together without falling into the arguments we had, into the patterns that were oh-so familiar to me after my time with big *c* (hence adding to my panic), how on the Funk's green earth could we ever hope to survive in the same apartment together?
and i was forced to admit it would hurt vastly worse to be without *m* than facing the silly pain of whatever stupid crap we were dealing with at the time. hence, i had to admit i couldn't lose him. i love him, and want a life with him.
it was humbling.
the deeper implications being that --no matter what-- i was moving to idaho. of course, after i realized i couldn't be without him, talking about and planning this move became much easier. my practical side returned to the helm, so to speak.
spending four days down there, apartment hunting and meeting *m*'s friends, also taught me a few things to like about idaho. of course, they all center around the future, but i suppose that fits with the way i am. once i really let go of something, i don't look back. it's the letting go i've always had a problem with, but that's old news.
we reconciled, and it felt so good not to have that tension between us anymore. it felt good just to hold him.
we talked and planned. future hatchlings even came up several times in conversation and planning. at one point, he even called them by name...which sort of amazed and surprised me. usually it's the female who's most eager to begin nesting.
y'know, a short while ago i said:
i'm bigger, shinier, funker, and more beautiful than i've ever been and i know it.
the rest of this year will be used to finish up and close this particular chapter in my life. i'm ready for something funkywild and new. so i say again:
when we call, the multiverse answers. i wasn't specific, and "something funkywild and new" took the form of a funktastically amazing relationship and a move to Bum Funk Nowhere. maybe i should have been more specific. or maybe i wasn't meant to be.
in my horoscope this week, mr. brezsny told me it's Big Wild Prayer Week for me, prayer being an intention to align my emotions and thoughts with the highest possible good. so, in light of the recent attack of my inner flaming narcissist, the temporary seige of the apocolypse and my momentary failure to my duty as a revolutionary freedom fighter, i say this prayer...
"die, apocalypse, die! i swallow you down and break you up into your most basic elements so i may then use those materials to continue to construct myself into the funkiest groovemate worthy of both myself and my sweet baboo, and thereby kill the apocalypse within me by transforming my shadow self into constructive expressions of the Funkalicious Jive! i shall endeavor to find equality, equilibrium, and interdependence with my sweet groovemate in order to allow him to manipulate me as much as i manipulate him, so that we both may work our magic on each other and manifest all of our potential!
amen. a-woman. ommmmm... and hallelujah."
radical intimacy means we kill the apocalypse at the source.
(robert brezsny, the televisionary oracle, pg. 355)