the iGoddess hatchling: the making of

it just occurred to me, just now, that maybe gestating the iGoddess hatchling took absolutely everything out of me emotionally and spiritually that was good is because, just like my fat stores and fluid and energy, her umbilical cord was also attached to my Funk because --as the most loved, anticipated, empowered, enlightened, cherished, magical child ever born-- she needed everything i had and more, because her own inner bonfire of juicyFunk is even more bombastic than mine will ever be? 

i forgot we are triune beings: body, mind, and spirit. there i was, thinking i was just physically growing a child in me when i should have remembered she was connected --is still connected-- to my entire being? 

as a pregnant woman needs to take supplements and pay attention to her calorie intake when she's pregnant and increase it to accommodate a fetus, i should have also been taking Funk supplements and increasing my own caloric Funk intake. 

and i didn't.

been a while...

yeah, it's been a while. life got kinda crazy and overwhelming, and quite frankly perhaps i needed the lesson in humility. for some reason i've always believed i had to do it all, be it all, know it all.

no mistakes.

you should see it: the apartment's a mess, my finances are a mess, my mind is a mess. i'm working full time, schooling full time, mothering full time.

i'm sewing cloth diapers, getting into investing, and rejoining these crazy people here. yeah, like i ever knew when to quit, right?

but just look at that face! doesn't she just make you want to go back out and live life to the crazy fullest?

or this one?

it's never like in the movies!

oi vey. pregnancy always seems so beautiful and polite with little windows of opportunity for comedy to make a cameo appearance, and everyone's always so helpful and chivalric totally on board.

yeah, pfft! movies and sitcoms can kiss my [bleep!]

no matter how they word it in those pregnancy books (and yes, i bought one this time around), nothing quite describes "discomfort" like the lovely adjectives and phrases that now decorate my midwife's file like "freshly kicked-in-the-crotch feeling" and "itchy, burning nipples. no! not just irritated, but freakin' burning-like-sulfur-rounds-on-a-vampire burning nipples!" or, my particular favorite, "guano loco" (used to describe the state to which so many of these uncomfortable sensations drive me on a daily basis).

i'm juuuuust shy of five months, and i'm finally beginning to show. it's about freakin' time, yet on the other hand even that teenie pulling of gravity on a distending abdomen is making my lower back guano loco.

and i'm so sick of peeing!

i sent a text to my baby daddy (yes, i said it!) earlier tonight stating "the little bundle of chaos apparently thinks post-mealtime is trampoline time. YOUR kid."

him: "aww, takes after me already."

me: *saw my life flash before my eyes*

it's been fun, the last eight weeks or so, playing the "feel the fluttertwitch" game. considering how completely horizontal and still i've been (yay puking! funfunfun!) since way early, i felt the baby way earlier than anyone believed, but it was definitely not my body making some of those twitches. now it's much more noticeable, of course, but i'm finally starting to feel a bit better so i'm able to be up and around a bit (a bit) more, so i'm not noticing them as often. but this kid, omg! this kid is a super bouncy ball and my womb is one of those obnoxious plastic inflatable jumping gyms. especially after i eat.

remember these? kangaroo balls? yeah. i swear, the kid thinks that my bladder is one of them. and has a BLAST with it, apparently.

li'l brat.

can't you tell i'm loving being pregnant? lol in all honesty, i'm incredibly thankful that i'm able to enjoy at least some of being pregnant this time around. i can totally live without the puking, and it can stop at any time now. it totally has my permission. but other than the puking, the dry heaves, the dizziness, the low blood sugar, low blood pressure, and crap endurance, it's not all that bad.

though the term guano loco is still applied liberally every day...

couldn't've said it better

You might call it spiritual logistics, Delena, but sometimes you have to move away, to get closer.

Or you might just call it weird.

Either way, it helps to remember it from time to time.
Tallyho,
The Universe

(And while we're at it, Delena, sometimes you have to let go, to stake your claim. Be still, to move forward. Give, to receive. Cry, to feel the joy. Pretend, to make it real. Fake it, before you make it. And sometimes, oddly enough, you must first decide to feel their love, to find it was there all along.)

i swear, i couldn't have said it better. sometimes i think "succinct" is a gift...and it's one i don't have. today's note from the universe summed up the last few days. you wouldn't believe (or maybe you would?) how many people asked me in that tone of voice why on earth i was trying to fix things with the ex-bf and be a family, especially when i really want so very badly to be a single mom.

the answer, "because i believe in living compassionately and making the difficult-yet-right choices," didn't really make sense without context, but if there's one thing that i'm not, it's succinct.

so i think it's a gift.

this Note says it all. putting my faith in distance, demonstrating that i'm not just "full of talk" but am more than ready and willing to do whatever's necessary to protect my child(ren), yet also willing to put my faith in compassion isn't easy, but it's the right thing to do.

and it paid off. it was a nerve-wracking two days and nights, and i swear to all the gods i can think of, there were a couple of times when abortion honestly looked like the only solution (i'm not kidding). but compassion finally outlasted his cynicism.

it wasn't at all beautiful. it came about because i had finally realized that as soon as i dropped the ex-bf off at his apartment, i was going to call up my dr's office and make an appointment for an abortion. the peace talks had failed, and his verbal abuse and threats wouldn't stop. when i say that it was the only sane choice, believe me when i say i am not kidding.

the prospect made me so sad that i couldn't help showing it (damn those pregnancy hormones!) , and it was the simple fact that i was actually crying that finally made him stop and rethink a few things. (this only really carries weight if you know beforehand that i am not the type to cry even when i'm entitled to, and that despite the roller coaster and struggle this whole time, not once have i cried even with all these hormones.)

at least his defenses finally --finally-- came down.

not once did i give up on compassion, nor did i rise to the bait and go on the offensive myself. i felt like a tide breaker during a storm, wave after wave smashing against me. i hadn't eaten since early sunday evening (watching a Godfather marathon with my dad), had slept very little, and it isn't like i have these huge energy reserves lately.

but it worked. seriously, i kept an image of the dalai lama in my mind the whole time, trying to live up to his example. it gives me a whole new appreciation for the remarkableness of that little holy man, especially compared to my own clumsy efforts.

i honestly don't know what to title this

i'm sitting in my parents' living room, staring out the window at the small two-lane sorta-highway that runs by their house. they're out in the middle of garden country, with huge industrial nurseries clustered together and growing everything from conifers to japanese ornamental cherry trees and wisteria. big business, where a yearly budget of $30 million is somewhere around the numbers they work with.

it's kinda like the boondocks, but not quite. but with nothing but plant life, two-lane highways, and a local coyote pack feeling at home in a place with no street lamps, it can feel like the middle of nowhere at times. though the middle of the night on a full moon, especially after a snow, is particularly enchanting out here.

right now, the gentle ripple of the cats' water fountain and the occasional truck passing through is all i can hear. well, that, and one of the cats snoring on the recliner next to me. i suppose when you're a 20+ pound cat, snoring's a way of life.

lately, i've been acutely sensitive to stress. even something as minor as knowing i have to be somewhere on a particular day is enough to be halfway to debilitating because my constitution's just so shot. and at my parents', even if none of my problems are fixed, something about feeling this safe...helps. maybe it's muscle tension, because as i hear my massage therapist tell me time and again, that's where i store everything. tense muscles means even my smooth muscles can't relax, and the more stressed out i am, the more i end up with the dry heaves. even on zofran, it can get bad enough that i still can't keep anything down.

vicious, vicious cycles. and the ER bills are piling up.

but that's not so much a worry. that's what payment plans are for. no, what has me so puzzled is this thing called "growing up." a few years ago, i used to resent doing the right thing. don't get me wrong, i'd still do it, but the pain of responsibility and integrity was at times almost physical. i would sigh and gripe about how growing up sucks and doing the right thing was at times damned...inconvenient.

well, maybe i've grown up since then. maybe i've just grown out of my childish selfishness and self-centeredness. (i like to think so, anyway!) or maybe it's just simply that my priorities have changed, and in light of what's truly important everything else just seems expendable.

i've learned that if a situation or a person is making it difficult to do what's right, then they're not in alignment with my honor and integrity which i've worked damn hard over the years to foster. "the right thing to do is only difficult when surrounded by fucktards." in light of that, it's easy to give up what's not important.

what's important now? this is the Year of the Basics. honesty is a basic. so is honor, integrity, and doing everything in my power to raise the iGoddess child right.

so i sent the ex-bf an electronic olive branch. i emailed him, asking if he truly wanted to be a family. it was a simple yes-or-no question, but it took several replies back and forth to get any kind of answer out of him. stubborn son of a bitch.

y'know, tony robbins says that cynical people are cowards. they don't want to trust, or believe in love, and are always believing the worst of a situation so they can protect themselves from getting hurt. that's not smart, that's chicken. he locked himself down so that what happened to him in the past won't ever happen again, instead of making smarter choices, changing a few habits, and trusting the right people.

love is always a far better shield than cynicism. true self love and a thorough knowledge of your own self worth is far better immunity to the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune than being meaner than a "potential" enemy. and love and joy are far better healers than time and cynical coping mechanisms.

and love heals clean, with no scars.

i stand by my decision to be a single mom if i feel i must. honestly, i don't know if the problems that created our impasse have solutions. but we're sitting down tomorrow morning with a mediator to find out. it was for love i left, i told him, and for love i'm trying again.

my goals, as always, are to be true to myself (not compromise my self-worth or integrity), and to embrace full responsibility as this baby's mother by doing what i believe is best for it.

so, i dunno. we'll see.

adventures in gestating

i know, my bad.

here i wrote all about how excited i was that the iGoddess child was going to be here, and then dropped off the face of the planet.

again.

oi vey. so no, i didn't really fall off the face of the planet. pregnancy hormones are kicking my ass, though. for the life of me, i can't recall if i ever mentioned the hyperemesis gravidarum which plagued me when i was pregnant with li'l *c*, but i'm sure i must have. that hit around the twelfth week and lasted until his birthday.

well, this time around, it hit around the fifth week, and it hit HARD. i'm still down, and i'm at thirteen weeks. by this time, i figure i've lost more than twenty pounds (last weigh-in was 18 lbs down a week ago), have had two ER visits for dehydration and, of all embarrassing things, fainting. yay super-low blood pressure.

so it's going to be another one of those. thank the gods for Zofran because, without that magic little 8mg pill 3 times a day, i wouldn't even be able to eat the little that i do. it's going to be a tough ride, baby.

also, i dumped the sperm donor. there's something about men that like the idea of a thing more than the actual thing. yeah, i have a problem with those. not that i'm keen to put up the details here, but suffice it to say that in this iVillage of ours, none of us really shy away anymore from making the tough-but-right choices. i like to think that i've continued that little tradition.

been thinking about you a lot, boho mom, and our conversations about single motherhood. and it wasn't a tear-filled or painful choice, either. i'm not sitting here eating ice cream, using up kleenex, and watching titanic or anything. actually, thanks i think in part to the nesting instinct, it felt more like house-cleaning than anything.

though i am eating ice cream, it's mainly for the heartburn. OMG, the heartburn!

now, for the first time, i actually feel excited about this whole thing. in my head i'm already decorating the funk palace, and can already see myself in the kitchen with the iGoddess child, side by side and cooking something gluten-free and awesome with the white album playing in the background.

it looks good, and my way finally looks clear. so, single moms in the audience (both current and former!), you ready to add another to your exalted ranks?

the most loved, anticipated, empowered, enlightened, cherished, magical child ever born

kinda funny.

i knew the day it happened, honestly. how'd i know? sore b-cups, that's how. other signs followed, of course. then my 28th day came...and went. that pretty much nailed it for me, but you know how other people can be. without confirmation, it can always be "so many other things."

except for the simple fact that when you know, you know. y'know?

so get ready. the iGoddess child is coming early August 2010.

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): You may find it hard to believe that imprecise language could undermine your ability to merge with your heart's desire. But it's true. Your biggest wish may never be fully granted as long as you're lazy or sloppy about how you articulate it. Try this:
Write down a brief statement that crisply sums up the one experience you want more than anything else in life. Preface it with this assertion: "I am doing everything possible to accomplish the following goal." Memorize this magic formula and repeat it twice a day until your wish is fulfilled, even if that takes ten years. P.S. It will work best if you don't include anything about how certain people need to change in order for your longing to be fulfilled.


these things tend to get easier, i think, once i stop fighting myself. in fact, reading this week's horoscope from my dear mr. brezsny helped me to realize just how blessed i really am. the universe really is conspiring as hard as it can to shower me with blessings.

i actually sat here and spent days considering what it is i really wanted. but there's just so much i want, so much that inspires me, so many dreams i have!

there was a day once upon a time when you could ask me, "how are you today?" and i would panic because i didn't have an answer for you. i honestly didn't know. and if i couldn't even tell you how i was that day, how could i tell you what i wanted? surely i'd have answered, "i don't know. i don't want anything."

my mind is so free, so open, that when i'm asked, "what is the one experience you want more than anything else in life?" my response is: "well, there's just so much out there!" although if i had to sum it up, i'd have to say:

"i want a beautiful home that inspires me to be happy, with my loving husband and healthy, wonderful child/ren sharing that beauty and happiness with me."

yes, Universe, this is what i want most. and i assure you...

...i am doing everything possible to accomplish this goal.

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec 22-Jan 19): I've got three messages for you. They may seem unrelated, but by this time next week you will see that they are intimately interconnected. 1. Unless you were raised in the woods by badgers, it's a perfect moment to slip into your second childhood. 2. Unless you really can't stand having your mind changed, it's an excellent time to launch a daring project that would have seemed impossible to the person you were a year ago. 3. People unsympathetic to your cause may think you're in the throes of delusions of grandeur, but those of us who have faith in your untapped powers say they're not delusions but viable fantasies.


last week after i smashed the glass and slammed my palm down on the Big Red Button, i took a step back and re-evaluated my life. there were a lot of things there that just didn't work anymore, no matter how perfect they were at the time of their inception. i decided to hold a sort of benevolent judgement day, tearing down everything that didn't work for me anymore and declaring a new aim.

and no, mr. brezsny, these three things make perfect sense to me right at this moment. i didn't know it was coming the way you don't know a glass door is coming. you only know it's there after you slam face first into it in front of all your friends.

but it's there. delena makeover and transmogrifaction (transmogrification?) seems to be the theme right now. and this applies also to Project: Bio-Mom.

i'm making myself over. i'm not only headed back to the gym today, but now that the produce section is getting a little more impressive, thoughts of a heavy-duty juicer have been dancing in my head again. there's a supply of ingredients for healthy smoothies in the fridge, and as soon as i feel up to it, i'm gonna wade through another detox. emotional, physical, spiritual.

to my sorrow but also to my relief, i'm saying "merry part" to my goddesses of war, retribution, and destruction whom i've served so faithfully. i've learned many lessons, and they've helped hone my core of strength to the keenest edge, but their demands also stand in the way of learning Love. i am unshakable. i can stand on my own. i can defend myself against those who would devour me for themselves. i am of Those Who Bleed But Do Not Die. death is my intimate ally and i know many of his secrets, but he can no longer be my bedfellow.

it's high time i not only realized my bombastic, soft divalicious center of Funky Love, but took hold of it and made it mine. i am She Who Takes No Shit (thank you, Lilith), but i am also Delena of the FunkyWild. i am a fantastic mother with hardcore values, and my hatchling is the luckiest kid in existence. the iGoddess-hatchling will be amazing. i am (almost) thirty, flirty, and fabulous. i've entered the prime of life, and i demand only the best. i will have love, and commitment, and intimacy, and really great sex...and all with one person for the rest of my life. i will meet him and he will be wonderful and everything i ever wanted. there will be more children. i will have beauty, truth, freedom, and love. i will become one with my Funk.

i couldn't do all that, have all that, say all that while faithfully serving the goddess i was called to serve. i am a servant of Goddess and take that very seriously, and when the goddesses of war, death, and destruction called (and everyone else stayed silent), i bowed my head and said, "i am yours." my apprenticeship was long and arduous. i lost much...but nothing i really needed. i only thought i did, and thanks to them i've learned to recognize the difference. and i've gained immeasurable skill and strength under their guidance. but too much pruning, too many spiritual apocalypses, was killing me inside. and it was defeating me.

it is now time to learn to be quiet, to perhaps be alone with The All for a time. i will worship, i will serve. and i will return to my people when i have received visions (as was done in the old world). but in the meantime i will let grow those things which have heretofore been held back. my Funk early last year was premature, but we all know the flower which has remained dormant all winter springs forth more beautiful than ever.

i will be a force to be reckoned with. we're making me over. so mote it be.

no great genius has ever existed without some touch of madness

so my transfer finally went through.

it's about freakin' time.

and the only thing i had to do was have a minor meltdown on easter sunday, and have a fight with a stupid cunt who calls herself a groomer. yup. total yayfunjoy. although now, when i went to call my new salon, they didn't have me on the books at all and the salon manager is on vacation until monday. so i spoke with the GM, and he said, "well, how 'bout sunday?"

impromptu vacation!!! shibby!

of course, it's unpaid vacation, but still. i've been needing BOTH a transfer and a vacation, so i've been taking advantage of it.

on saturday i'm going with *cc*, *ds*, *ks*, and a girl from my old salon to the vampire ball here in portland. it's an annual event and i promised myself last year that i'd be there for it this year, come hell or high water. there will be pictures. i swear to you, there will be pictures. not just because we'll be bringing cameras, but because Studio C here in portland will be hosting the photo booth. this might just become an annual family event, if we like what we see there. i'm sure we will...

also, last night something happened with *sy*'s daughter and she ended up in the hospital. she's okay, and of course *sy* being the wonderful daddy he is, rushed off to be with her. dropped our plans for the evening faster than a pair of pants on prom night, but that's the way it should be when it's the hatchling. grass is green, gravity works, and hatchlings come first.

...so why was i so upset?

it took me the rest of the evening to figure out it was because, in part, i was so insanely jealous of how he had the luxury to rush off to help his daughter, and i'm stranded and can't do anything if it were li'l *c*. i hate how, when i call to talk to him, i feel like such an inconvenience to big *c* and his mom. they never call; i always have to call. they used to send some of his artwork or schoolwork, in the beginning. i haven't seen anything in a few years now. and anyone who works in retail knows that it's just a bitch pain in the ass to get any time off to go anywhere without seniority. and when i could get time, i never had the money.

it just really, really bothered me...the pang of not having seen my only born in three years. and there's a very huge part of me that seriously fears the possibility that li'l *c* will be my only issue. the entire creation and birth of li'l *c* nearly cost me my life. *cc* thinks i'm an idiot for risking it again, and perhaps i am. there's still the very good chance that my next pregnancy will be the same --or worse-- than the last one. if it is, i don't know if i can face going through that again. it took me six years to get over that trauma.

and if he does end up my only child? talk about failing utterly as a mother. i haven't been his mother since he was two and a half. i haven't kissed his boo-boos, i missed his first day of school, i never helped him with his homework or made his lunch, nor have i been able to contribute in shaping him to be a decent member of society, respectful of women and instilled with a sense of honor. i was just his uterus.

when i was ripping away from *m*, he told me he wanted children but wasn't ready. at one point he said, very accusingly, that if i really wanted his children and loved him, then i'd wait. well, he was going on the arrogant assumption that a.) i loved him, and b.) i wouldn't be happy with any children but which came from his loins.

join me in laughing so hard we all snort our drinks up our noses.

like hell i'd wait, i said. i'm so ready, and i have no more time. the longer i wait, the worse it will be. the truth of the matter is that i am most likely facing a pregnancy every bit as devastating as my first one was. now, there are things i'm doing to get my body in the best shape possible. this was dubbed the year of preparation. i don't have time to be wasting on waiting around for some fucktard to grow up enough to be a good mate and male figure for my loinfruit.

and, knowing this, something in me was greatly upset knowing that i --and the iGoddess-child-- are not *sy*'s priority. i'm not complaining; his daughter should be his priority and it is only right it should be so. i think what kicked in was a more primal instinct, the primordial brain concerned about survival competition and the primacy of my progeny.

not to mention the dead keeps trying to raise itself, and some zombie form of careerlovemarriagechildren keeps trying to crawl out of the grave time and again. a couple weeks ago i confessed i wanted to commit myself to our relationship --after having drunk enough for liquid courage to turn into fluid stupidity-- but nothing was ever made concrete. i also have to force myself not to ask *sy* if he would consider being the sperm provider for the iGoddess-child, and lemme tell you, sometimes it's a struggle. i know he'd never agree to my terms, and i know i'd want to make an exception with him. which could have very stupid consequences. so there was more reminder that my (very stupid) lifelong dream of becoming a housewife is dead and supposed to stay that way.

i think what made me angriest was knowing that the psycho hose beast (aka. his ex) used to have exactly what i've always wanted and she not only threw it away, but continues to dump shit all over it every day. i've been working and praying so hard for how long, and someone like her has the luxury of crapping all over it? i gave it up out of necessity, and i think it just hit me really hard, watching *sy* give to someone else what i will never have. i pride myself on being realistic, though. it's just not to be, and i accept that. i know the problem is in no one else but myself, and i'll work through it.

but still.

ps. the blog title is a quote from aristotle, btw.

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19) - San Francisco Chronicle columnist Jon Carroll says he's periodically asked about what it takes to be a writer. He has two pieces of advice: "Good writers read a lot, and good writers write a lot." I urge you to apply that approach to whatever skill it is you'd like to master, whether it's building a boat, traveling where the tourists don't go, satisfying a lover, or anything else. In other words, practice, practice, and practice some more as you study the work of those who are experts in the field. Now is an especially ripe time for you to identify what this skill is for you, and to sign a formal agreement with yourself in which you promise to steadily upgrade your mastery of it.


now, i'm a writer and yes, lately i haven't been writing a lot. my bad. actually, i've been feeling the absence of the writing muses, and i keep promising myself that i'll get back into it, but right now i'm just keeping up with life-in-general. not that i'm complaining! for the first time since *m* and i got together, i can finally say that i'm totally in love with my life again. i'm trying to dwell less on the fact that *m* grossly derailed my Funk and more on the fact that i've got my Funk back and it's Funkier than ever!

but i've been seriously thinking about my horoscopes the last few weeks. i've just not really known what to write about it, and last week...? i didn't really wanna come out with what i thought about it. it was about how this last week i should really be thinking about a truth that'll slowly manifest itself from the lies i'd wrapped it up in like protective coating. and really there's only been two truths that i've been protecting myself from because they hurt so much.

one is the simple fact that no man will ever love me enough to truly be a good-enough partner and companion for me, and for the family i wished to create. i feel like less-than, like a defect of a woman for not being what men want without sacrificing my soul. and sometimes i'm convinced that, obviously, i'm shit because men always end up treating me like shit. and oh goddess, it hurts. but okay, so i'm not good enough to be the fabulous wife i know i could be. i'm still going to be a fucking-fantabulous mother to the most...how did boho mom put it? "the most loved, anticipated, empowered, enlightened, cherished, magical child ever born." yeah. the iGoddess baby will be the first of what will eventually become a tightly-knit, loving, magical, formidable family spanning the world.

so the fuck mote it be.

the second truth is that i'm quite seriously falling in love with *sy*, the person who was simply supposed to be company on cold nights. but he's somehow worked himself past my defenses, past my coldness and my aloofness that *m* had forced me to conform into. he's worked himself past what i wanted and found what i really needed, and it's meshed so wonderfully with what he's wanted and needed that, despite myself, i find our rhythm ebbing and flowing like La Diosa Del Mar herself. it's a slow rhythm, beautiful and subtle and filled with those nameless Things which make the ancient magic powerful still. it's like making love with slow, passionate sighs amid the cozy, orange glow of candles, where the physical connection is more for closeness than pleasure...until climax comes out of nowhere and takes you deep inside a place you'd forgotten ever existed.

those revelations come like that, slow and rhythmic, and i discover belatedly that i've already descended to another level of intimacy despite myself. consciously i fight it, but sometimes i feel i'm being driven by something deeper.

i have yet to decide if i like it.

and this week? this skill i wish to master is, quite simply, love. i've been paying attention to the masters of quality, and the masters of speed in the grooming salon. i've made my weekly goal a permanent and now-commonplace accomplishment. and my quality of work hasn't suffered. i suppose i could still pay more attention and master this skill of pet grooming. and i have been, keeping ears and eyes open for more i could learn. once my transfer goes through, i'll be among other groomers and will learn even more.

but the skill i'm truly interested in mastering is Love. i'm living with *ds* and *ks* now, and i'm sure it's become apparent from my other entries that i hold them as my role models and ultimate example of what love can be for me. of course, to me they are so perfect that perhaps it's no wonder i'm so unlucky in love. for even as i am not fit to be a wife to someone, i doubt the poor bastard would ever be able to live up to the standard my brother and sister hold for me. not one couple in a million achieves what they've been blessed with, which makes it all the more sacred.

just as Love is sacred. as sex and marriage and life and all of existence is sacred. didn't Everything come from Love?

and so i will sit back, and i will pay attention, and i will learn. this ever-growing mastery of love will be showered upon the iGoddess-child. and in the sanctity of my bedchamber, i suppose *sy* will be the lucky recipient of my advancing lessons as i grow in my mastery.

*shrug* i guess...so the fuck mote it be.

lilith in the garden

as part of my resolutions for the new moon --of which i'm doing rather well (go me!)-- i've decided to come out about yet something else. now, before you respond with, "*stunned silence* ...uh, delena? don't you wanna sit on this one a while?" just know that i already have sat on this for quite a few months, and i haven't said anything until i was not only sure, but had already taken steps in this direction.

i had come across this story by robin westmiller a few weeks ago and the beauty and simplicity of it rocked my Funk. it's about lilith in the garden of eden, right before she awakens to her plight and tells adam to go fuck a sheep. she would have told him to go fuck his mother, but in this story, adam really didn't have a mother except for the clay from which he was fashioned. but anyway, that's not the point. the point is the end of the story, where she says...

"from the dust you came, and from the dust you'll return. i, however, will continue for generations. i don't need you. you will never be able to create a new life on your own. i can, and i will.

"...it's all i need to create more of our kind. they're called 'children' and i will have them and they will be strong. the males will be partners and equal to the females and never force the females to lie beneath them. they will be my children and they will have love and be loved..." --robin westmiller

one thing i've come to realize after the debacle-of-*m* is that i've been trying to force something to materialize, through sheer force of my will and effort, that will never be. okay, so i can't be june cleaver. fine. however, i've also come to realize that by the very nature of my quest, i've affected the nature of the very thing i've sought after for so long. simple quantum physics, like schrödinger's cat.

kinda ironic that my holy grail turned out to be a dead cat. (and please, tell me you googled the cat so my very geeky joke at least got one laugh...)

however, i am a child of the dark goddesses. i am a capricorn woman, and it is written in the stars our lives are like one, long dark night of the soul. death is our bridegroom. i wholeheartedly believe in and embrace compassionate destruction. i am a pronoiac: "i die every day" is one of our mantras.

so be it.

i have swallowed my dream and broken it down into its most basic elements so i may then use those materials to construct an even purer Funkalicious Dream, closer to the breast of the All-Savage Vulture Goddess Herself and the Spark that Fueled the Great Big Mushroom Cloud in Our Brains.

and what was left?

love. and family. and love.

if i die right now, i die failing to impart the wisdom Funk i've learned. i die with a meaningless childhood in the House of Oppression, the Baseball Incident only a sad tragedy with no purpose. the ability to feel the Funk with my signature delena-liciousness will fade as my ashes are scattered in some organic garden somewhere. sure, my ashes will inspire some Funky zucchini, but c'mon. squash have a Funk all their own.

zucchini rock, btw...

so i decided if lilith can do it, and if i have taken her name and the responsibilities of her patronage, then i can follow her example. and lo, i said unto myself, in regards to building a happy family, "i'll do it myself."

i declare this the Year of Bountiful Funk. the rest of this year is dedicated to preparing for the precious child i will bring into this world with love and joy and much, much anticipation. i will prepare my finances, my surroundings, my mind, my body, my life. i've gone back to the gym and renounced all caffeine and shortcuts. with the help of a few precious friends and mentors, i'm researching the nitty-grit of single motherhood. *waves to boho mom* i'm transferring to a salon closer to home by half, to help save money. the Funkmobile is slowly but surely getting into perfect working order. *ds*, *ks* and i are planning on moving into a rent-to-own house, as soon as we can find one that works for us. i swear, every time we get together, we can't help brainstorming about this wonderful Plan of ours, with real and attainable Goals we're working on even now, because the thought fills us with such excitement and purpose.

and with this decision, i feel a new vitality breathing in me. life has color again. my life has purpose...finally. i never was fully happy living just for myself. so yes, this time i think i'm ready. i'm not a child this time around, and i can look into my child's eyes and say, "i wanted you. i chose you. i cleared the way so you may come and experience life."

i'll do it myself.