6.21.2008

daily deelite

no, that's not a misspelling... i love how my nickname provides so many opportunities for play-on-words.

today i decided to make my gratitude a daily exercise. if anything, it'll keep my thinking in a thankful way, and as the blogging becomes habit i anticipate a new way of looking at life: remaining open to finding new things for which to be grateful, and new ways to express such gratitude.

speaking of, there's thankfulness no.1:
thank you, Universe, for being so serendipitous as to be almost foolproof to find wonderful things about life to celebrate. once you find one, life seems to just flood you with good things.

2. thank you, Jiggy Snake, for remembering to put the Fun in Funk. without that, i only wonder how interesting life would be, but i have a feeling it's unfathomably worth more living in a multiverse that has fun in it...

3. thank you, karma, for giving infinite opportunities to improve myself and for fashioning challenging situations in which i can plumb new depths of my strength and character to overcome character flaws and flourish as a Divalicious Funkmaster.

4. thank you, *ds*, for soothing pettin's with those lovely long nails of yours. my arm is still radiating happiness...

5. thank you, America, for providing the liberty for a Revolutionary Freedom Fighter to take small, innocuous-seeming events and people we meet, run with them, and create phenominal wealth in intangible-yet-vital ways. guerilla compassion is the ability to surrender to life, to yield to the divinity within someone else, to listen to the song of their soul and respond with your own harmony.

i found this in my Google searches about gratitude, and rabbi brent rosen says it all:

When we view gratitude as somehow dependant upon a the receipt of a specific gift, we will inevitably come to regard it as an emotion that will ebb and flow depending upon how grateful we happen to feel. But cultivating gratitude means training ourselves to greet each day in the spirit of gratitude - even when we don’t happen to feel particularly grateful. Indeed, to experience this level of gratefulness is to understand the true meaning of the Thanksgiving Offering.


this is a beautiful passage, and when *ds* and *ks* asked me why i decided to create daily deelite i couldn't really give them an answer except that in doing it, i would be able to do it even better. i simply decided to live life gratefully, remaining open to finding all those blessings the universe is conspiring to shower upon me.

and then i can go, as a guerilla agent of trickster love, and shower anonymous blessings upon others. because that's where the real Fun(k) is...

6.19.2008

no good deed...

it seems seƱor murphy and his aggrivating Law have hit the salon hard this week. between two people being out for vacation, others being out sick, miscommunications, misunderstandings, a new bather, and just the simple misfortune of working for one of the Big Bad Daddies of the Phallocratic Corporate Hydra, it's been one @#*!-ing helluva week, lemme tell you.

and today we had the closing groomer go home sick (like puking sick, so we lovingly chased her out) and it would've been just the new bather by herself for two hours. i didn't feel it was right to do that to her (having been screwed over like that many times myself), so i told her i'd be back to help her with the closing shift. of course, i'd had the opening shift, so it was a very long day for me.

i spent a couple hours with my *sa*, and we had fun killing ourselves with laughter and playdough. but when i got back, it was to find i had 1 hr and 45 mins to work on a scottish terrier who was satan's lapdog in a former life. i walked away from that one bloody, just to let you know. but i wasn't supposed to have any dogs, just help my bather by being there to take all the extraneous duties, e.g. answering phones, doing nail trims, checking out dogs to go home, etc, so she could bathe her dogs and then we could clean and close together.

i had told my store manager this, and that i was voluntarily coming back purely to help her close. it was his call when this dog came in to give it to me, without letting me know that i'd have over an hour less than the prescribed three-hour window in which to work on this dog. the damn dog's owner had to stand with me at my table and hold this hellion while i tried to groom it in-between being gnawed like a hot dog on a stick.

which means that i was now completely unavailable to help my bather with all those things that she then got swamped doing...because i got screwed by a store manager in a bad mood. i made it up to her, however, with starschmuck's white chocolate mocha (too many girls in the salon give money to starschmuck's; it's so sad).

part of me left work feeling rather bitter, that no good deed goes unpunished. i'm unbelievably exhausted, and bitten, bloody, sore, and sacrificed my entire day just so someone else wouldn't feel screwed over. however, i didn't do it for anyone except that new girl, and she thought i was rather amazing for a.) coming back to help out, and b.) bringing her favorite coffee.

that was the point.

who says we can't help the universe shower blessings upon others once in a while?

6.17.2008

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): How well are you capitalizing on this year's unique opportunities, Capricorn? Now that we're halfway through 2008, let's take an inventory. Your self-image is in the midst of an exhilarating expansion, right? Your excitement about being alive is growing steadily, right? Your devotion to cultivating an inner sense of freedom is getting more intense every day, right? You have an ever-increasing clarity about what life experiences you need in order to feel powerful, right? If you're falling short in any of these projects, start making up for lost time immediately.


so let's take an inventory. having ascended from the crucible of my life of which the Year of Secrets was the final chapter, the Year of the Delena was to be defined by wetter, wilder, and more interesting challenges. let's see how i've done:

1.) Q. my self-image is in the midst of an exhilarating expansion, right?
A. right

2.) Q. my excitement about being alive is growing steadily, right?
A. right

3.) Q. my devotion to cultivating an inner sense of freedom is getting more intense every day, right?
A. right

4.) Q. i have an ever-increasing clarity about what life experiences i need in order to feel powerful, right?
A. ri-- ...wait, huh?


hmm. i seem to be falling short in this area. i'm completely on the right track. before mr. brezsny's horoscope came to me, direct from the televisionary oracle straight into my e-mailbox, i blogged about my theme song, crazywhacked love for ALL creation, and just how freakin' in love i am with my life!

my mental uplink with the PNN grows stronger by the day.

however, feeling powerful? i've never really given it much thought. i suppose power, in my own mind, would translate into influence over things and an ability to shape things according to my will. this, in essence, is magic and the heart of what it is to be Witch: the exercise of will to manifest change.

i've had a few inklings, i suppose, but i don't know that i'd call it an "ever-increasing clarity" about what life experiences i'd need in order to feel "powerful." maybe i'd call it an intuitive feeling about what experiences i need. then again, i think less about power and more about achievement, the feeling of success (and my definition thereof), and the ability to lead my life as i wish.

then again, i suppose my definition of power would be the ability to lead my life as i wish. the freedom to lead the lifestyle i truly desire is a sort of power: power over my own life. and, to take this idea further, i suppose that "freedom" would be the direct opposite of "security," so there would be some risk involved, i know, in having the life experiences needed in order to procure my own powerbase. then again, perhaps "risk" is the wrong word.

after all, this is iGoddess! there is no risk, only adventure!

how often do i jump into things and people dig their fingernails into the arms of their chairs as they watch me plummet headfirst into whatever i've thrown myself into? i have the freedom of my own heart, and it gives me the power to do those sorts of things. and i always land on my feet, in the end.

meow.

true, a little security is a good thing. i love the security of my family and friends. but, as we've discovered here at the iGoddess, the security i feel living with my family has trapped me in the roomate lifestyle when i know i'd be so much freer living alone. the more security you have, the less freedom.

look at the people who have "maximum security." ...think about it. they live behind bars, wear orange jumpsuits (or blue, grey, whatever), and have men with high-powered scope rifles patrolling the perimeter making sure they never escape that security.

think about it.

i'd rather have freedom. utter freedom, the limits of which are only reached by my own morals and the generosity of my unquenchable spirit. oh, the possibilities of what i could do and achieve! THAT is power!

...so i have an idea of what power is to me. i suppose i always did; i just never thought about it. but the life experiences required in order to feel powerful?

...actually, a few things have actually been popping up in the last two-or-so weeks. i've just been eyeballing them very carefully. when someone opens their hand and offers you a portal to another world, no matter how adventurous and unquenchable you are, you're gonna look at it sidelong for a bit. part of me can't believe they're for real, these things, but i suppose i've only been getting accustomed/acquainted within myself with these radical new things before i finally take the plunge.

because you know i will...

what's that word again?

from the oxford-delena dictionary...

theme song (n)

1. an oft-repeated song in a musical play that is identified with the work or one of its characters
2. a melody in an operetta or musical comedy so emphasized by repetition as to dominate the presentation
3. an expression, comment, or subject of conversation that a person or group uses habitually
4. a thing delena often uses to quickly describe where she's at in life


a lot of people have particular favorites when it comes to music. lately it's come to my attention just how ecclectic i really am. in one day, i can listen to a dozen different genres of music, each of them distinct. and while this is nothing special, what i do think as special about it is what it says about me.

"because," she says with a joking curve at one corner of her mouth, "it's all about me..."

i love being ecclectic, out-of-the-box, unable to fit into any one category...as juxtapositional as a Compassionate Loving Trickster iGoddess Daughter of Lilith.

one thing that i've been saying a lot, on a daily basis even, is, "wow, i love my life!"

and i mean it.

every syllable.

the secret really isn't a secret at all, but it's something we all have to learn for ourselves: all we have is Now. the only place to find true happiness is Now.

true happiness.

contentment, satisfaction, joy, esteem, respect, excitement, love, knowledge, peace...inside and out. between ourselves, and with others. in groups, in pairs. ecstatic passion for everyOne and everyThing. the same ecstatic, lusty bliss for grass, velcro, and a lamp post as for a Funky groovemate. the same orgasmic satisfaction you feel at the first luscious sip of a perfect chai latte, extended also toward global warmers, wife-beaters, and PVC pipe.

kill it with kindness and love it to death.

i'm beginning to understand in leaps and bounds. as if my mind were merely a seed up until now, it has opened wide and blossomed exponentially. for the first time ever --on sunday-- i felt shame and unease at the realization that i had reveled in my enemies' misfortune.

i was uncomfortable in the knowledge that i still considered people as enemies.

i was disturbed knowing i took actual pleasure in their heartache and karmic debts being cashed in. which meant, of course, that i still harbored grudges and some anger and sense of victimization, somewhere deep inside, over how they wronged me. granted, i used to operate from a place i had named The Darkness, which was just another name for a void inside us created by insecurity and incompleteness within ourselves. the only way to fill it is by ourselves with ourselves. and i had, but on some level i was still operating from those negative forces that fill that void with Darkness.

i realized it was another burden weighing me down, something i needed to turn into pumice stone and watch float away down the River Funk.

so i did. i took a day and uprooted those negative things that were sapping my Funkarama Bootyliciousness, turned them into pumice, and watched them float away. i have way more interesting things to be concentrating on, much tastier and more exciting events in my life upon which i could be spending my time. who cares about former enemies? they're just human beings, just like me, and we're all one brotherhood of man sharing all the world, as lennon used to say.

besides, without them and their small-minded viciousness, i never could have grown beyond the petty peevishness of their rat race. thanks in part to them, i have blossomed. i will forever feel a deep gratitude toward them; they led me to reject how i've always lived my life and jarred me into a new mentality, a new approach to the universe.

not only am i having fun with this whole new aspect to dating, but i'm meeting a great group of men on a wholly different (read: "superior") level than what i've seen before now. they're affirming my faith in the male of the species, actually, with their intelligence, manners, chivalry, wit, and appreciation for the values and qualities i value, as well. and they appreciate me, and they show it, for which i always make a point to thank them. i have a wonderful career filled with people who not only appreciate me, but shower me with appreciation and affirmation. my family continues to be endlessly wonderful. new and wonderous opportunities are all but throwing themselves at my feet. and the universe continues to shower me with blessings.

my life, in a word, rocks.

and so i give you, beauty and truth fans, my new theme song as of late. i know the video's cheesy, but it's also whimsical. and what else are we here at the pronoiac iGoddess if not appreciative of the whimsical and off-kilter?


6.16.2008

toe #23

so i was at my parents' yesterday, and it was gorgeous outside. mom was "playing outside," as she says, doing her garden stuff. she's a horticulturist, so there's a honkin' garden in the back. she recently trimmed back the Rosemary that Ate Chicago because *cc* and i got nervous after this one time going out back to trim some for ourselves and we heard, "C'mere, little girl..." from the vicinity of the rosemary bush.

well, i think it was the poppies' turn to take over the garden, and they were hiding the split wooden logs mom uses to create a lovely border between the flowers and the rest of the yard. after playing with the dogs in the yard, i turned to go back inside...

...and SMACK!

there went my poor little piggies smack into that log the poppies were hiding.

it was kinda ugly, and no matter what i did my toe wouldn't stop bleeding. but i finally got it under control and it was only a few hours until the throbbing finally ceased. my foot's still sore from the initial impact, and driving home wasn't all too fun, either. the Funkmobile's a manual, remember. i called the salon today just to find out what the forecast was for my appointments, and apparently everyone's pretty booked today. wtf? this weekend was slower than molasses in january! where'd they all come from?

prolly out enjoying the gorgeous weather and too busy to make (or keep) grooming appointments, so they all decide to flood in on monday after i break my toe.

yay, murphy's law! (murphy, u suck...)

ah well. it's not like i haven't broken toes before. just look at the title of this entry. i thought i was finally done with my toe-breaking spree.

6.15.2008

the happening

much more visual and gory than his previous movies, i think. then again, i never saw lady in the water, so i'm not sure if i can say that with as much authority as i suppose i'm presuming...

however, there was definitely much more gore than shyamalan has previously given his audience. i know the people in the theatre were very vocal about some, with lots of gasping and quiet exclamations of surprise and/or "omg/wtf?"

by the time the first "happening" had actually "happened," i had already put together what was going on. this movie was definitely more blatant than his others, to be sure. and while i've always loved shyamalan movies for their subtlety and ability to keep me guessing right up until the very last, absolutely possible minute, this was also a slap-in-the-face type movie whose message, among one other, was "wake the @#*! up, people of earth!"

this was also the first movie i've ever been to where someone finally dared to have a character say, point-blank and no-holds-barred, "we are a threat to this planet."

i can respect that.

6.12.2008

anthem

anthem
chapter 11
by ayn rand


I am. I think. I will.

My hands . . . My spirit . . . My sky . . . My forest . . . This earth of mine. . . . What must I say besides? These are the words. This is the answer.

I stand here on the summit of the mountain. I lift my head and I spread my arms. This, my body and spirit, this is the end of the quest. I wished to know the meaning of things. I am the meaning. I wished to find a warrant for being. I need no warrant for being, and no word of sanction upon my being. I am the warrant and the sanction.1

It is my eyes which see, and the sight of my eyes grants beauty to the earth. It is my ears which hear, and the hearing of my ears gives its song to the world. It is my mind which thinks, and the judgement of my mind is the only searchlight that can find the truth. It is my will which chooses, and the choice of my will is the only edict I must respect.[2][3]

Many words have been granted me, and some are wise, and some are false, but only three are holy: "I will it!"4

Whatever road I take, the guiding star is within me; the guiding star and the loadstone which point the way. They point in but one direction. They point to me. 5

I know not if this earth on which I stand is the core of the universe or if it is but a speck of dust lost in eternity. I know not and I care not. For I know what happiness is possible to me on earth. And my happiness needs no higher aim to vindicate it. My happiness is not the means to any end. It is the end. It is its own goal. It is its own purpose.[6][7]

Neither am I the means to any end others may wish to accomplish. I am not a tool for their use. I am not a servant of their needs. I am not a bandage for their wounds. I am not a sacrifice on their altars.8

I am a man. This miracle of me is mine to own and keep, and mine to guard, and mine to use, and mine to kneel before!

I do not surrender my treasures, nor do I share them. The fortune of my spirit is not to be blown into coins of brass and flung to the winds as alms for the poor of the spirit. I guard my treasures: my thought, my will, my freedom. And the greatest of these is freedom.9

I owe nothing to my brothers, nor do I gather debts from them. I ask none to live for me, nor do I live for any others. I covet no man's soul, nor is my soul theirs to covet.10

I am neither foe nor friend to my brothers, but such as each of them shall deserve of me. And to earn my love, my brothers must do more than to have been born. I do not grant my love without reason, nor to any chance passer-by who may wish to claim it. I honor men with my love. But honor11 is a thing to be earned.

I shall choose friends among men, but neither slaves nor masters. And I shall choose only such as please me, and them I shall love and respect, but neither command nor obey. And we shall join our hands when we wish, or walk alone when we so desire. For in the temple of his spirit, each man is alone. Let each man keep his temple12 untouched and undefiled. Then let him join hands with others if he wishes, but only beyond his holy threshold.

For the word "We" must never be spoken, save by one's choice and as a second thought. This word must never be placed first within man's soul, else it becomes a monster, the root of all the evils on earth, the root of man's torture by men, and of an unspeakable lie.

The word "We" is as lime poured over men, which sets and hardens to stone, and crushes all beneath it, and that which is white and that which is black are lost equally in the grey of it. It is the word by which the depraved steal the virtue of the good, by which the weak steal the might of the strong, by which the fools steal the wisdom of the sages.[13][14]

And now I see the face of god, and I raise this god over the earth, this god whom men have sought since men came into being, this god who will grant them joy and peace and pride.

This god, this one word:

"I." 15




1. "I swear by three times three times three...these shall remain my own. And whatever may transpire, no god nor man nor beast may take them from me. I swear by myself and my immortality." --The Oath of Lilith

2. "Beauty is truth, truth beauty, that is all/ Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know." --John Keats, Ode on a Grecian Urn

3. "Blessings on your eyes. Blessings on your children. Blessings on the ground beneath you. My heart is a ladle of sweet water, brimming over. Selah." --old canaanite blessing, The Red Tent p.4

4. "An harm ye none, do as thou wilt." --The Wiccan Rede

5. "The microcosm of the macrocosm" --Democritus, 5th century BCE

6. "Four Dignities of the Warrior's Path" --the Shambhala training path, regarding Perkiness, or Irrepressible Joy...the 2nd Dignity

7. "Sing, feast, dance, make music and love, all in My Presence, for Mine is the ecstasy of the spirit and Mine also is joy on earth... Let [Me] be in the heart that rejoices, for behold, all acts of love and pleasure are My rituals." --The Charge of the Goddess --Doreen Valiente

8. [see lyrics: "Not the Doctor"] --Alanis Morissette

9. "Give yourself a little freedom to develop into something or someone you'd actually like to be." --Donald J. Trump, Why We Want You to be Rich p.101

10. "...i am as i have been, as i am, as i always shall be. so the fuck mote it be." --Funk: A Declaration of Independence, by yours truly

11. "No person was ever honored for what he received. Honor has been the reward for what he gave." --Calvin Coolidge

12. "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? ...Therefore, honor God with your body." --1 Cor. 6:19-20 (see 7.)

13. "Material abundance without character is the surest way to destruction. Indeed, I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is just." --Thomas Jefferson

14. "pop nihilism...is nothing more than the same Dry Cynical Infrastructure of the Evil Trickster Phallocrats which boasts all the geometrical symmetry of a constipated nazi general..." --mama always said... --by yours truly

15. "And you who seek to know Me, know that the seeking and yearning will avail you not, unless you know the Mystery: for if that which you seek, you find not within yourself, you will never find it without." --Charge of the Goddess by Doreen Valiente

6.10.2008

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): Pumice, which is created by volcanic eruptions, is filled with holes, which means that it's sometimes light enough to glide on the surface of a body of water. I urge you to use this floatable rock as a metaphor. Think of the heaviest burden you're carrying -- an apparently insoluble problem, a thankless responsibility, a task that seems impossible -- and imagine over the next few days that it is changing into a hunk of pumice. When the transformation is complete, visualize yourself throwing it into a fast-flowing river, and then watch as it gets carried away, ultimately turning into a tiny, bobbing speck that disappears over the horizon.


i think i have sporadically achieved what is known as a mental uplink to the PNN: Pronoia News Network, which feeds love notes from the Jiggy Snake directly into my brain. armed with blissful cheat sheets on how to change my mind about everything, i've begun the true revolution --killing the apocalypse at the source.

everyone has a little bit of the apocalypse inside them. i call it the inner flaming narcissist; jung called it "the shadow."

thinking about this the other day, while headed north on Hwy 217, i had a satori moment which i shared with *ta*, a friend of mine in texas with whom i used to write phenominal, breathtaking stories online. between us, we created worlds and empires rose and fell. i learned a lot about myself in that time, too.

so i emailed him about it.

...the other day I remembered a scene we'd written, when Leer and Kyri had finally landed in the desert to find his people. He'd told her that her mother's tome, that huge grimoire that was too heavy for her to lift, would one day be as light as air when she finally learned how to channel her own magic power and use it. Kyri had thought he was nuts. I mean, that thing probably weighed as much as she did or more, since she was such a tiny little thing. I've thought about that scene countless times over the years, not quite understanding what he'd said but knowing there was something there.

I get it now.

And I just wanted to let you know that now, for me, all those things that were so heavy before are now light as a feather. Thank you for planting that seed in my mind.


at that moment on the freeway, i realized that without my noticing, my heaviest burdens had transformed into pumice and had already floated away down the River Funk. it took their absence, and the resulting uncapping of yet more ecstasy in the mushroom cloud in the back of my brain, before i even realized what had happened. and that, i think, is how it should be.

however, there's still more that can be made into pumice stone. i could take the metaphor even further and observe that pumice is used to soothe rough skin, especially pampering tired, abused, calloused feet. if my transformed transcended burdens can then be taken to smooth down the rough spots caused by the abuse and rigors of daily life, isn't that the essence of pronoia?

"[to] find the treasure in the trash, the gold in the lead, the manna in the junk food. sometimes the only way to get the good stuff into your system is to eat the whole disgusting thing." --The Televisionary Oracle, p. 123

there are still burdens which weigh me down. Project: Bio-Mom, for one. *k*, my oldest sister, is another. i'm too big on the concept of family to be writing people off. of course, the conflict is that i'm also not big into toxic people infecting my life, no matter who they are. so there is conflict. however, i suppose one burden at a time is enough to handle.

i've taken a few committed, irreversible steps in the making of Delena's Palace of Funky Bliss, so that fear is well underway of being faced, conquered, and banished. or rather, devoured, transmuted, and redeemed...

this could be, i suppose, the universe's way of telling me it's time to stop stalling and start planning the special ops for Project: Bio-Mom. it's a delicate operation that will require all of my compassionate cruelty and rowdy bliss, with no guarantee of success. in fact, i might make a few enemies along the way.

ah well. as long as i love them more than i love them...

6.09.2008

the price of love pt. ii

...continued from pt. i...

i was standing in the middle of eternity, the countryside rolling in gentle swells as far as the eye could see. gone was the river of blood, where upon its blood-muddy banks i had sat with the pomegranate priestess. instead of the river, now i could see the rippling plains covered in barley swaying in the breeze which held a touch --a mere hint-- of ice.

it was the time of year when late summer was just changing hands with the darkening autumn, the chilled fingers of the turning seasons reaching into the heat of midday to raise goose chills on my skin even as I dripped sweat in the heat.

i stood alone on a hilltop, dressed for battle save for the general’s helmet tucked under one arm, its crest of red plumes fluttering ever so gently on the restless air. i looked around, expecting to see the pomegranate priestess with her blood tattoos, but she was gone. strands of hair had worked themselves loose from my braid and blew across my face; the breeze came from the north. death was in the wind this day, i knew. i ran my hands across the heads of barley and knew somehow this was the last moment of peace i would see for a long time, and i wished time would stand still.

silence fell.

even the breeze stopped and the barley froze in mid-sway. every tiny detail of the world stood out in cruel relief, simple as it was: the sky cerulean perfection, flawless; the hills so gentle it seemed the land was flatter than it truly was. it seemed i could run to the horizon and never get winded; the breeze sent the barley bowing and swaying in waves; the air crisp and fresh and smelled like…

i blinked my eyes and the peace shattered before me. suddenly i was sitting astride a warhorse just as garbed for battle as i was, a huge chestnut steed with black mane and tail. it had a red saddlecloth with gold trim; a red to match the plumes on my helmet. i alone in my army wore red, however, as was i the only one to have a horse.

this horse was no gelding and only half broken, fierce and rearing and whinnying and difficult to control. no one else could ride this horse, i knew, but even i had to give all my concentration to controlling my mount. i couldn't handle this horse casually at all but give it my full care and respect.

all this i knew in an instant as time resumed and i found myself suddenly astride this massive warhorse, my war party behind me shouting and roaring and beating their swords on their shields to get their blood racing.

i drew my greatsword from its sheath and pointed it forward, heralding the charge downhill. my enemies were here, concealed in the barley, occupying the beauty of the picturesque landscape in the heart of my queendom. “Onward!” it was a full-throated roar as i kicked my mount to full gallop.

the rest of my army, one hundred elite warriors of legendary skill and power, ran afoot alongside my mount. the horse, i knew, was a necessity born of the fact i could never have kept up with my companions running as easily as they kept up with my horse galloping.

i led the charge downslope, no enemy in sight and yet i knew that we were not alone in that vast field of barley.

And we fell on the enemy. the first of many: Fear.

i was screaming Fear’s name, waving my sword in the air and spurring my horse even faster. the bloodlust was a roar in my ears and a fire in my veins. there would be a reckoning this day!

and then i was upon her, and my horse was gone. i was on foot. my companions were fighting as well, but i could not see their adversaries. unseen foes accompanying Fear, nightmare conjurations of every form imaginable, but all i could see was Fear herself. my companions kept Fear’s minions away from me, defending me so i could face my enemy unhindered.

i raised my sword, screaming in the heat of battle. i looked into my enemy’s eyes.

my first mistake.

again time lurched, slowed to a crawl. i took in the sight of Fear from head to toe. her eyes held me. they were my eyes.

she had my round face, the scar on her bottom lip, her left cheekbone slightly puffier than her right from the day in high school when she cracked it. she was exactly my height; her hair exactly the length of mine; the mole on her neck; the scar on the knuckle of her right forefinger that i saw as she held up her hands…everything. she was me.

Fear was me.

i hesitated, my sword trembling in my hands. i wanted to weep. i was terrified. horrified! i would just as soon turn my sword upon myself!

Fear fell to her knees, hands in front of her face as if to deflect the blow she knew was coming. i knew exactly the expression i wore because Fear wore it as well, and i knew she would not weep no matter how terrified she was unless i wept first. it was then i noticed she wore no armor, no protection. all she wore was one of my favorite grungy, layered outfits i had loved back in middle school: forest-green shirt with a pocket at the left breast, faded and fraying denim shorts, black leggings underneath, black socks, black boots, black sweatshirt tied around her waist.

how could i kill an unarmed child? she certainly looked twelve years old again. i was trembling. an enemy as my equal, met face to face in armor and armed to the teeth i could slay, but i would not be a butcher of children! oh, how i trembled...!

...and then i realized this was her tactic; this was Fear’s great Weapon. she manipulated me as if i were the child!

anguish welled up within me. screaming anguish and defiance, i brought my sword down and sliced Fear clean across the chest, a diagonal gash that gaped horribly from her left shoulder down to the ribs on her right side. her breastbone made an ugly, wretched crunch as it was crushed. her blood sprayed across my face, splattered my armor, but i did not wipe it away.

upon the death of my first foe, my army rose up in a deafening cheer. “Onward!” I called, jabbing my bloodied sword straight up into the air.

to pt iii

6.05.2008

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): What Martin Luther King Jr. said about epic struggles in the political arena is also apt for you in your private life, especially now: "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that." I recommend that you translate his advice into the intimate details of your relationships. If you really do that with the irresistible force of your burning conviction, you will prove another one of King's excellent thoughts: "Unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality."


y'know, part of me wanted to interpret this in the spirit of my new focus --my dedication to drawing to myself my Funky groovemate through the power of my thoughts and the confidence i have in the universe constructing custom-made blessings for me-- but there are other applications to it, as well.

projecting love and light --however HappyHippieBullshit it seems to the cynical of the world-- really does work to draw those very things towards you in abundance. like attracts like, one of the most fundamental laws of nature. with all the drama going on at work, all i do is project a caring, empathic energy and people are confiding in me, seeking my advice and opinions. there's room for honesty, and an ability to navigate those murky waters almost as miraculously as if i'd simply decided to walk on water.

"look, ma! i'm jesus!'

and at home, as well. *ds* and *ks* still asked if i was upset with them, but i wasn't. project love, channel empathy, and truth naturally follows. sometimes, within my adopted family, i feel like the simple-minded child, the one saturated in naïveté who gets patted on the head whenever i speak from the place of compassion or empathy. but i truly believe people will feel safer and freer to be true to themselves, to speak their own truth, in an environment shining with love and empathy. there's no room for judgement in such atmosphere, only acceptance and understanding.

or, at least, the striving for understanding. and as long as there is empathy, there will be fertile ground for communication, which will bear rich fruits of understanding.

this makes so much sense to me. sometimes i wonder why more people don't get it. of course, to be fair, it didn't always make sense... if unconditional love is to have its final word, i must recognize everyone is at their own individual place in their own individual growth stories, and perhaps they simply haven't developed to the point where they can see what i see so plainly.

and that's okay, too.

everyone is at their own place in their own story, and the unfoldling of the story will happen in its own time. there's simply no rushing it.

however, if dr. king was talking about epic struggles in the political arena, and if we take that same epic force and apply it to my focus to find my Groovemate with all the irresistible force of my burning conviction, then it's really only a matter of time until my projected love and resonating empathy draw to me someone who will love, protect, treasure, and adore me. only someone worthy of the gift of my Trinity of Self will be attracted to my roaring empathy, shining love, and burning compassion.

and then will come The Time of Unarmed Truth and Unconditional Love.

for Unarmed Truth is another way of saying vulnerability, which is what real intimacy demands. and unconditional love? intimacy fosters open communication, trust, and respect...which engender unconditional love.

...all the ingredients necessary to create the Radical Intimacy i shall enjoy with my Funky groovemate...

6.04.2008

delena haiku

yet one more reason i love where i'm working now, despite the KKK Pep Rally Drama going on at the moment: the women there appreciate my quirky delena fun. i'd told one of the girls there, *sa*, that for years now writing haiku has been a closet passion of mine. so then she wanted me to share a few. so i wrote an ode to *sa* in which i called her "my sexy, mean, strap-on queen" and she loved it.

so every once in a while she'll write one herself, or prompt me to write one. her latest game is the Haiku Challenge, which is terrific fun: she thinks up three random words, the randomest most out-there words she can think of, and has me use them in a haiku. there are only two rules to the Haiku Challenge, and they are 1.) all three words must be used, and 2.) the haiku must make sense. of course, i can Challenge her right back. we have loads of fun with this one.

the other day, she calls to me from across the salon, "hey, delena! i got one for you!" she hands me a piece of paper upon which she has written rooster, gargoyle, and pancake. so i set it aside and continue grooming my dog, the gears in my brain already working. once in a while i'll stop clipping to scratch a few things on the paper, and before i'm even done with the haircut, i've got one:

An Ode to my *sa*
pride of the rooster,
heart of the gargoyle sentry,
sweetness of pancake.


she loved it. of course, she kept saying that the last line should've been "breasts flat as pancake," so i had to tell her that the thought crossed my mind. get a bunch of women together and they'll joke about things like that.

but i think my biggest pride was this morning. after being awakened far too early on my day off by a text message from *rj*, head thick from not enough sleep and thoughts quite sluggish, i got another text from *sa*.

"wasp, snorkel, toast," was all it said.

hmm. another Challenge. and dammit, this one was difficult. after ten minutes, i considered telling her i gave up.

ten more minutes later i text back:

Summer Fun
sunning toast-white legs
after snorkel fun at sea,
got stung by sand wasp.


she texts back: "U rock SO hard! ur the official master."

pretty dang good for too early in the morning...

6.01.2008

when they say "vacation's over..."

So much has been happening in my life these days. Really magnificent things and some not so magnificent things. It feels like all the "old doors" that once represented my little safety zone have been closing one by one. I think it would be easier if it were happening in more spread out segments.

going about my life the other day, i came across this little tidbit over at the painted house, and it was all i could think about for the next two days. when i read them, the above sentences hit me like the Holy Shit Express at full speed because they were an exact echo of my own thoughts.

no, even better: they were an articulation of a jumbled mass of emotions i hadn't been able to sort out until that very moment.

a while ago i remember posting a declaration of independence in which i stated there was to be a complete makeover aiming to reveal my soft, divalicious center. i was to let go of the worship and honoring of War, Death, and Destruction as well as change my focus from family to love and intimacy. part of me wonders if this isn't simply the universe's way of telling me i was way off, or if it's telling me it's time to stop marinating and to throw it all over the fire.

the other day, it became obvious that the silverfox den cannot and will not work. for someone who is so communally-minded, so willing to work toward the benefit of the whole (because that's just how i was made), this realization fills me with indignant rage...at first. mostly i feel lied to, but i won't go into my feelings here for risk of the lameass drama i know it'll trigger.

mainly, i wanted to express the feeling of anxiety, doubt, and exhilaration that comes before any coming-of-age milestone. and yes, no matter how old you are, there are coming-of-age experiences all around you. in the constant shifting and changing we do as we grow and learn, new phases in life happen every day.

i have never, not once, lived alone. i grew up with three other bio-siblings; moved straight into marriage with my hatchling's first birthday happening a mere three weeks (to the day) after my first anniversary; lived with so many roomates i sometimes refer to them all as "the cast of thousands." empty rooms make me nervous. no sounds but the ones i make only heighten my awareness of my own vulnerability. i have this gripping fear of intruders (i'm a pacifist). all my life i've been plagued by serious nightmares, and an empty house meant a sleepless night. part of it comes from what happened in my psyche after i was raped, i know. yes, i was horridly violated, but at least i wasn't seriously injured or killed, y'know? part of me has a fear of having my personal living space violated and intruded upon, and maybe next time i won't be so lucky. so i've cushioned my life with the presence of loved and trusted friends and family, which is a good cushion to have.

but soon i'll be curled up in my own lair, with no one's hoard around me but my own. deep in my gut, i know i'm (for the most part) ready for this, but i'm so horridly terrified. i've let *ds* and *ks* think it's just anger or irritation at them. they're doing their "walk on eggshells" thing they do around me when they think i'm upset at them, and i'd rather them think that than know i'm terrified of living alone. why bother explaining it? there's nothing to do but face my fear and let it pass through me. nothing to do but keep going despite the panic, and sweat, and dread. for eleven years i've managed to hide --even from myself-- the degree that those rapes affected me. the realization has surfaced a few times, but i've always turned right around and re-buried it before i had to consider its implications.

i suppose now it's simply time to face it and let it burn itself out in the flames of my own fear. self-immolation of a psychic scar. kind of like when i invited my monsters in for a cuppa tea, and then proceeded to feed them until they ate themselves to death. however, this is one fear i thoroughly do not want to face...which is probably precisely why i need to face it.

dammit. i hate being enlightened sometimes...

i'm excited and even kind of thrilled at the prospect of my own space, my own time, and the first opportunity in my life to let my personality come out into full bloom in my surroundings without accomodating anyone else's style. i'm already thinking of things to make and buy, and what series i'm going to rent from netflix to fill up my evenings.

there's a clash of excitement and fear, unease and anger and curiosity.

Yesterday, it hit me hard that I've been too soft with myself. ...I need to harden it up a bit and move forward with a force as strong and steady as a bulldozer. I can feel a beautiful future ahead. I just need to step up to my plate in a very big way.

again, i read this and there was a sinking feeling in my gut. i've been avoiding stepping up to my own plate. i keep delaying Project: Bio-Mom, keep postponing my goddess-divorce, keep trying to focus on Love and Intimacy while in the safe comfort of family. and i've realized it, taken small steps to correct it, but avoided the real change i knew i needed to make because deep down i knew i needed my own space to do it. honestly, i'd rather be single the rest of my life than face those kinds of sleepless nights and that gripping fear, but i've been a self-respecting daughter of Lilith too long to put up with that attitude in myself. once you find a fear, and area of resistance, the only thing to do is burn it to the ground in a compassionate act of destruction.

life is the most thrilling adventure ever, and what i want --deep and lasting love and intimacy with a wonderful man, marriage, the iGoddess-hatchling, a new branch on the family tree i've lovingly planted-- is too funktastic and unbelievably wonderful to let something as silly as fear get in my way.

remember i was talking about coming-of-age experiences? well...wasn't there always a trial to overcome before the heroine could enjoy the rewards? ha! look at me, blending the dark teachings of Lilith with colorful, wackyloopy Pronoia as if i know what i'm talking about...

5.28.2008

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec 22-Jan 19): This would be a good week to celebrate failure -- to laugh about the comic horror stories of your past defeats, to gain a new appreciation for the prickly lessons you learned, and to let go of any regret, shame, or anger you might still be lugging around. I'd even recommend that you and your friends stage a Brag About Your Failures party. Try to outdo each other as you render in ignominious detail the things that went wrong, the mistakes you made, and the people who let you down. I think you'll be amazed at how effectively this will dissolve the karma left over from those misadventures -- and help free you from their ghostly clutches.


first of all, apologies for my total and complete lack of literary motivation this last week. exhaustion and stress just hit me like a mack truck and i've been peeling myself off the pavement ever since. however, memorial day gave me a surprise three-day weekend, and believe me, i've been utilizing it to the fullest of my ability.

of course, the above statement would only make *ds* and *ks* laugh, as they spent a considerable amount of time monday trying to teach me to relax. it's a case of point of view and scale, i think. my definition of "relax" is their definition of "uptight," while their definition of "relax" is my definition of "laziness" as far as it applies to me. i can't stand doing nothing.

as far as my previous post, it was originally an email to *ws*, whom i've known for eons, it seems. at least as long as li'l *c*'s lifetime, anyway. but he wrote me back to tell me that i'm the most together, strongest person he's known. part of me wants to downplay the compliment, but another part of me is kind of staggered by it, too. there's an eighteen-year difference between us, and he's saying that in all that time he's never met anyone stronger? more together?

perhaps i'm a little too hard on myself, if that's the case. his compliment is saying quite a bit. i simply know exactly what i want and focus on it. i wanted a close, loving family, and look what i have now: adopted parents who love me, siblings who stand by me, a great-and-getting-greater relationship with the bio-dad, a few close friends that are my light and joy. i have the perfect family. now that that's squared away, i've shifted my focus to finding my Funky groovemate. and i will find him soon. i know it.

there's simply no time, i think, to focus on the past in all its warped wretchedness. there were also some fantabulous times in there, too. *rj* texted me the other day with a pipe dream about getting the "old school" crowd from our choir together at disneyland. yeah, while we had some good times, i wouldn't want to see any of them again (except for one or two exceptions). and i definitely wouldn't want to go back to SoCal to do it, either. every trip i've taken back down to cali has made me physically sick for weeks afterward. literally.

this tells me something.

but no, too busy, too happy, too productive to be dwelling on the monsters from my past that i've slain. people said i indulged my monsters too much, lamented and played the victim. what they didn't realize was the power of descent into the underworld, a woman's psychic need for catharsis being so drastically different from a man's psychic need to rise up and conquer. what for men is the dark path, the path which robert bly literally compares with Darth Vader ("dark father") is what is necessary for a woman's psyche to come out whole on the other side. remember persephone, who was not kidnapped by some Big Bad but kidnapped herself.

i went down a long time ago, and fed and fed and fed my monsters until they ate themselves to death. there were a few dregs i had to shake off, and *m*'s poison had to be completely flushed out of my system. i still shudder when i look back in retrospect and see just how thoroughly he had infected me.

now i can laugh at myself a bit. i can recognize the unhealthiness in others and stay clear of it. i can be selective and only choose the company of those who treasure and stimulate my Trinity of Self: mind, heart, and soul.

i can't wait. this weekend, finally feeling a bit rested and clearer-headed, i'm promising myself a heavy-duty juicer after bills get paid. there's dinner at the parents' tomorrow, which always feeds my soul and fills my fridge with leftovers. then again, leftovers feed my soul, too. sleeping in feeds my soul. living with my wonderful siblings, petting my affectionate kitties, feeds my soul. it gets me centered, flushes out my system, and makes me healthy and able to receive the multitudinous blessings the universe conspires to throw at me daily. it makes me able to truly laugh, which has the power to break all curses...even those left over from an ignominious past.

i don't think i'll hold a BAYF party, but only because the laughing soul should be shaking things up, turning things upside down and inside out to find the hilarity in every moment. the minute you catch yourself taking yourself too seriously, getting yourself stressed out or worked up, is the minute you need to stuff marshmallows in your mouth and play Chubby Bunny. it's the minute you need to play Pop Goes the Weasel with the Jiggy Snake.

it's the minute you need to leave dollar bills tucked beneath people's windshield wipers. it's the minute you need to replace all your boring, ball-point pens with Funky pens that light up when you use them. it's the minute you need to claim a signature color (hint: mine's PINK!!!) that just says, "HEY! it's ME! aren't i just fan-funking-tabulous?!!?!"

it's the minute you need to say good-bye to the inner flaming narcissist as you strip naked and run barefoot over yards and yards of bubble wrap.

last year was the Year of Secrets, the last chapter of my persephonic journey. now i wear the dark crown of the underworld and it's time to turn my self to bigger and better things, like gazing into the maw of happiness. this is the Year of the Delena, and i'm a pomegranate priestess of the Menstrual Temple of the Funky Grail, baby!

5.23.2008

what's that word again?

confused (adj.)

1. chaotic; jumbled
2. being unable to think with clarity or act with understanding and intelligence
3. lacking logical order or sense
4. what the male of the species is
5. the state in which delena finds herself whenever dealing with the male of the species


you know what i find most frustrating about being delena? simply this: men within a decade of my age are too immature and mentally dull to keep up with me. the upside? it lets me know i am nose and tail above the crowd, so far above the status quo that i see in color while the unwashed masses see in black and white. the downside? considering a man even as young as 35 is too old for me as far as my dad's concerned, my intelligence and maturity condemn me to a solitary existence.

this, in a word, sucks.

i read something once upon a time that compared women like me to the lucious, perfect, tasty fruit at the very top of a very tall tree. it wasn't so much that men didn't prefer that gorgeous fruit, so much as the simple fact it was so hard to reach. so they would pick the fruit closer to the ground and easier within reach. this, however, had a twofold negative result: the men were okay with their fruit, but not satisfied or content; and the fruit at the very top of the tree wondered what the fuck was wrong with them that they could be so wonderful, yet be withering on the branch.

i've been told --simply within the month of may-- that 1.) i am unattainable and "too much" to keep, 2.) someone couldn't get past just trying to get me into bed and keeping me there, and 3.) that i'm "just not" what someone else was looking for. i think the third statement was the most fair, honestly. but, dispensing with the "they're just stupid not to appreciate you" sort of opinion, what the absolute fuck is wrong here? is it me? where are the chivalrous, intelligent, mature, open-minded men with backbones born in the late 70's? i can't be so rare that i'm unique. i just can't.

this would be undermining my self-confidence if i wasn't possessed of my naĆÆve faith in fairytale love.

who needs a list of "must haves/can't stands" when simply being close to my age, mature enough to keep up with me, intelligent enough to challenge me, and a chivalrous knight-errant at heart is a tall enough order?

5.21.2008

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec 22-Jan 19): I'm issuing a too-much-of-a-good-thing warning. Soaking up too much pleasure could dilute the value of your bliss. Expressing too much personal power could scare away valuable allies who are competent but not entirely confident. Pushing too hard on behalf of your creative pragmatism could subtly undermine the labor of love you've worked so hard on. Therefore, Capricorn, please accept my invitation to enjoy a period of rest and assimilation. You can return later for another round of pure intensity.


you know what's funny about this is that i was thinking of this very thing on sunday evening as i was driving to my parents' for dinner. i realized that sometimes iGoddess can sound like nothing so much as a psalm to the glory of the delena. not that there's anything wrong with singing my praises. if i don't toot my own horn, then who will?

of course, my horn sounds amazingly like a glen miller big brass band, but that's okay, too. *grin*

but anyway, i thought to myself, "y'know, delena, not everyone likes to read about how great delena's life is all the time. i mean, yes, it's wonderful you're so happy, but perhaps we should tone it down a bit? or perhaps explore other areas and things you've been thinking about?"

"you know something," i said to myself, "you're absolutely right."

i just find it amazing that, instead of merely marveling at how my life is sincerely echoing freewill astrology and miming life according to the televisionary oracle, now i just have to marvel that i'm actually channeling the ecstatic pronoiac bliss of brezsny mere days before he sends his thoughts directly into my e-mailbox.

and so, i send my r.s.v.p. to mr. brezsny's invitation to enjoy a period of rest and assimilation. in fact, i employed the art of moving meditation and accepted yet another invitation; this time it was *ks*'s invitation to begin a project i've been wanting to undertake for the past few years. my former mother-in-law gave me a coffee table and two end tables back when big *c* and i were young kids just starting out. they were beautiful pieces and i loved them. they'd been handed down to her when she was a starry-eyed young bride, and she was passing them down to me.

as i'd been through countless moves over the years, with countless roomates and countless opportunities for things to happen to my lovely furniture, needless to say they've accumulated their fair share of scuffs, stains, and other things. so i'm stripping, sanding, re-staining, and varnishing them into a renaissance of beauty and maple elegance. it will be labor of dedication and love, and fifty years from now i'll look upon them and remember this summer project, the work and energy i put into them. i'll put my feet up on the table, which will sit in the iGoddess hatchling's house, and she and i can chat over chai about the day she'll give the tables to one of her children some time down the line.

so i will rest, and regroup, and assimilate those other things i've been thinking about. and in the meantime i'll continue this round of the dating game, enjoy my work, and revel in the magic of watching these fine wooden pieces come alive beneath my loving hands...

5.20.2008

"to serve all, but love only one"

sometimes i wonder where chivalry has gone, and i lament i shall never find it again. this is the modern age, i know, of capitalism, consumerism, women holding more of the spending power and making up the majority percentage of marketing brackets. women demand what they want, speak up in the board room, and are more likely to kick some mugger's ass with her Tai Bo kickboxing than scream for help. women are bitches and it's a compliment. women go for what they want and are queens of their lives.

and It Was Good.

me, however? while not of an older generation, i have an older spirit and cherish the old code. some things, then, remain confusing to me. the women's movement of the 70's was a wonderful breakthrough in the concept of equality and freedom for all individuals. i know we have a ways to go (e.g. same-sex marriage), but it was a fantastic start.

however, somewhere along the way, we lost sight of the original goal of the movement: freedom of choice.

in magic, the most powerful act a witch can perform is to change her mind. thought is power, i've said this before. our thoughts shape our realities. but as a girl growing up, it was driven into me that i would be independent, able to take care of myself in every capacity, and be at the mercy of no man. my education was my ticket to this freedom. i would make no choice that relinquished an iota of this freedom, this power.

i was no child of the barrio, to whom a scholarship or military position was a way out of the projects. i lived in the middle class of the early 80's, went to a private school, and had as my role-models some very talented and educated adults who taught me to think and perform my gifts and skills to the best of my ability. i was given piano and voice lessons to hone my inherited musical talents. i was blessed with a very sharp mind, and had a genius for the liberal arts and communication. "armed" with these "powerful weapons," as my bio-dad would say, i would go very far in this world and make him proud. i would be a lawyer and champion causes for mi familia, or perhaps be a diva at the metropolitan opera house and bring glory to la familia.

all for la familia, and i would never want for anything. never would i dread my husband returning home, never would i be beaten and dragged around the house by my hair, unable to escape because my lack of education barred me from ever getting a decent job and thus couldn't support myself.

in this, my bio-dad was a success. i am an intelligent, self-sufficient woman able to make my own choices and support my own needs.

however, something was always lacking. i could see the subtle beauty in walking a step behind a man, the gentle protection in a man who spoke for a woman in public, the respect in helping a woman out of a car. true chivalry is more than holding a door open for a woman, or ordering for her when out at a restaurant. it's more than simply doing these things.

it is the understanding of why these things are done.

by the old code, a knight was a lady's champion, offering her protection in a world where she might come to harm. anyone with sense knew better than to molest a knight's lady, for he would pursue them to defend her honor. in this world of women's rights, license to carry a concealed weapon, and martial arts defense classes, it's been proven a thousand times over a woman is quite capable of protecting herself.

this is not the point.

men were made to protect and provide, to act, and to do. women were made to love and to nurture, to intuit, and to create. i believe this. women's energy blossoms to its fullest when it is creating and nurturing, loving and caring. (true, not all women are like this, but of course it's just understood i'm talking in generalities.) men's energy shines its strongest when they are protecting and providing for their homes, acting and doing. the balance of male and female energy comes when they act in synergy, addressing the balance of yin and yang, acting to the fullest in the ways nature made us strongest and enabling our partner to do the same. being women makes men better able to be men, and vice versa. and we love them for it.

i would love a man who could protect me, and provide for our home. if he loved the idea of my staying at home to raise our children and make our house a home, it would make me happiest. let him provide for our home, while i remained behind and built the foundation of that home. now, in this day of two-income families, i understand if that's not possible, and that's fine, too. i love my career and i am happy in it.

it's the mentality i cherish, the deep-seated respect for both genders, their roles, their strengths, and their weaknesses. in the old code, there was no room for selfish sexism, only an appreciation for and understanding of the sacred duty to support and foster the strengths of your opposite by living up to the full potential of your own gender. this way created synergy.

sexism came, and upset the balance.

feminism came to redress it, but in its wake left generations of girls who grew into women confused and feeling guilty if they wanted to choose anything other than the freedom to do everything yourself, be a bitch, and take what you want. that works in the corporate world, but it sorely fails to address the balance needed in a more intimate union. if i ever said i wanted to be a stay at home mom, i was met with a lot of apprehension, or outright disgust. when i said i was made to be One of Two, i had "you don't need a man to complete you!" thrown at me from so many angles it made my head spin and my heart hurt. when i said, "i want another baby," i got scoffed at and was told not to be a disgusting slave to the base animal drive to procreate. i was told to smash the goddamned biological clock already. i was asked if i'd thought things through, if i wasn't absolutely sure because, sheesh, i had so much more freedom in my single life!

i'm sure they meant well, but family and friends had been programmed by the women's movement whether they knew it or not, but had no inkling of the true goal: freedom of choice. how can it be said i am truly free to choose if no one will permit me to choose to reject the model of the Independent Woman of the New Millennium? of the Uber-Bitch? of the Corporate Dragon Lady who is just as comfortable in $500 prada heels as she is in combat boots? in my religion, barefoot and pregnant is a position of ultimate power and holiness, as i stand connected to the life within me and the life of the Mother beneath my very feet.

where is the man who will order for me in a restaurant, hold the door open for me, help me with my coat? where is the man who stands when i enter or leave a room because he understands the power i hold as a woman, and knows i grant him the same respect and show it in how i keep his home and raise our children? men have it in them to be knights-errant, to be noble and just, strong and respectful and deeply loving. women have it in them to be humble and surrendering, for to be humble is to have the ability to truly show gratitude for those tokens of affection men bring to us through virtue of their abilities, like opening a difficult pickle jar or retrieving the wine glasses on the top shelf that are too high to reach. to be surrendering is to relinquish the desire to control the outcome and every aspect of a relationship we can't control, anyway. to be surrendering is to accept him the way he is, and to appreciate his abilities and show gratitude for the ways he shows his love.

men know we can open the jar ourselves, but they do it for us because men do things, and they do to show their love.

men like women who are soft and delicate, who don't try to change him, who have a pretty smile, a beautiful heart, and a brilliant brain. women like to be and feel pretty, to have soft skin and painted toenails, to be liked for who we are, and to show how smart we are. they like us when we are exactly as we already like to be. why, then, is there such a battle between the sexes when there can be such glorious harmony?

the concept of courtly love took sex out of the equation, for often the knight's lady was in some way unattainable -- whether it be social status, distance, or some other factor. thus it became necessary for a lady and her knight to rise above lust and infatuation, and create some other foundation for their relationship. they had to learn to love, honor, and cherish one another.

and thus was the tapestry of the old code woven: love, honor, and charity.

"the motto of chivalry is also the motto of wisdom; to serve all, but love only one."
honore de balzac (1841)

5.19.2008

monday morning check-in

i thought i would actually write a post this morning, but then i thought about this. i found a vid on myspace that was just too beautiful not to share and i thought, "we were here. this was our bangin' Funky party." then i remembered The Book of Genesis According to the Funk and realized this is The United Snakes of the Jiggy Funk! we're here, baby!



Crab Supernova Explosion



may the Funk be with you.

5.15.2008

delena haiku

i wrote this just now for a friend of mine. i'm always saying that if i were an organic Amazon, hardcore rockin' lesbian, she would so totally be my wife by now. however, i am still quite the lover of men and, yes, may the jokes concerning my vegetarianism and heterosexuality abound. soybeans are another excellent source of protein, thanks...

but anyway, humor aside, i wanted to fill your hearts with warmth and share this haiku i wrote for her simply because she's such an inspiration to me. she's a close and very dear friend, and i absolutely adore her. it was in answer to her question, "why do i love you so damn much?"



like a hand mirror,
i reflect your gorgeous self
right back atcha, babe. =)

you are like the wind --
refreshing and uplifting.
laughter of the sky.

you are like the earth --
beautiful and majestic.
you know i speak truth.

you are like the sun --
golden in your happiness.
you shine, it warms me.

you are like the sky --
wise to the far horizon.
i look up to you.

you are like the sea --
deep darkness harbors untold
riches of your heart.

you are like sheree --
my close and dear, lovely friend...
closest to my soul.

5.13.2008

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): During your entire life, you have maybe never been as free as you are now from the need to be rescued by some savior. You don't need anyone to rescue you from your own dark fantasies because, at least for the moment, your bright fantasies have rendered them obsolete. You don't need anyone to liberate you from oppression or enslavement, because you are fully empowered to do the job yourself. You don't even need anyone to deliver you from evil, since your recent hard work has made evil allergic to you.


well! what more is there to say, then?

...actually, there might be a few things. naturally, the first being "i must not rest upon my laurels." the second, perhaps, being that now the Year of Secrets is over and we're almost halfway through the Year of the Delena with its bigger, wilder, and more exciting challenges, perhaps it's time to change my eyes yet again to see not "challenges," persay, but "opportunities."

"adventures."

"blessings."

the universe is wildly in love with me and is daily conspiring to shower me with blessings. every day upon waking, a hundred things have already gone right for me, proof of the work of thousands of people in their tireless effort to make sure my day does begin well. i can flip on a switch, and electricity zooms through the wires to light up the room. i live in a temperature-controlled environment, my bare feet are massaged by soft carpet which is the result of people's labor to make and install it purely so that my feet can enjoy the feel of it. the sun is at the precise distance from earth to guarantee life upon our planet. i take a breath and am assured our atmosphere did not bleed off into the Void.

miracles of existence, and all of them there purely so i may enjoy them.

my legs work, my eyes see and my ears hear (albeit not very well, but they do). i might have scoliosis, but i walk upright without need of a brace. i have a car in working order which gets me to my job, which i adore. my hands work, able to perform such delicate and precise activities such as brushing my teeth, fixing my hair, crocheting an afghan, touching my family members to convey affection.

i am finally free of the old delena, and i have put on the chunky, pink platform shoes of Delena of the Funkywild. i emerged from the cocoon into wilder, freer, and more ecstatic versions of my Funky self. for the first time i truly feel the weight of the Old World has left my shoulders, and the shell of my former body is left far behind. i am the solidarity of the earth, with the depths of the ocean in my soul, and the wind in my hair. in my heart shines the sun; in my womb glows the moon. my true self is love.

there is only Love.

5.09.2008

< /censored? >

the one law iGoddess has always had is, "no censorship -- ever." it has been my guiding light and support from the very first day i set foot in the blogosphere. blogs were still actually kinda new back then. and at first it was the only place i had in my life where i could be completely honest with some of the things that were going on.

sometimes, looking back on that lonely, confused, neglected new wife and mother that wrote her first entry and posted it online with all the trepidation and hope a castaway feels tossing that message in a bottle into the waves, all i can think is, "that poor girl." and when the memories of the Baseball Bat Incident resurfaced after fourteen years of utter burial, the response i received only boosted me up and supported my decision to maintain utter, brutal, and ugly honesty here.

it makes the beautiful things so much brighter...

sometimes i wonder what it is about the whole thing, y'know? i mean, i think i've gained a measure of respect in my little blogging iVillage. there's never judgement, no matter how stark my posts can be. perhaps that says something for getting to know someone online; there's always a measure of distance instead of being a real, solid person standing right before you and into whose eyes you may see the reality of the things mentioned in their blog. and to a point, that's true.

but i had a conversation with someone recently about how people are so busy maintaining their faƧades and it's the nitty-gritty of life behind the masks that make them real. well, i've made a good habit of being real up here, and working as hard as i can to make the difference between what's up here and what's in the flesh as small as possible. of course, what's up here is sometimes a bit freer with language and opinions, but there's also nothing i've said here that i haven't said in the presence of my family.

i think part of it comes down to vulnerability. long-time readers of iGoddess will find familiar my confused lament about how the unconditional love and acceptance i receive from my family is nonexistant in the wide world of relationships. then again, a small while ago i realized why this is. the first tenet of Witch is "personal responsibility," and if there is a situation or difficulty, we must understand our contribution before we can move towards harmony.

needless to say, mine was not a childhood (or young adulthood) in which vulnerability was encouraged. it was ravenously devoured. i began to hide it. the few times i've played card cames with people who were rather serious about the game have told me that while i might not be the best at cards (i freakin' suck at poker, i swear), i had the best poker face and no tells whatsoever. i've also been told that the only way to know when i'm actually truly, deeply upset is because i give nothing away. the deeper my distress, the calmer i get. my breathing is perfectly even, my face void of expression. these were my defenses against the pain of having my vulnerability exploited.

and yet, with my (adopted) family i am dynamic, soft, vulnerable, and open. there is free communication, respect, and wholehearted acceptance. this is something i thought was isolated to family and which i would never find elsewhere. however, i smashed the glass and hit the Big Red Button that said, "I Change My Mind."

i must also change my Self. when i declared my new aim --to enrich my life with a loving, committed relationship built upon radical intimacy and respect-- i knew i would have to change many things within myself. i have resolved to be more open to chances and opportunity; to be more vulnerable by revealing my thoughts and feelings more; by surrendering to the universe in order to live in the moment and accept what comes; by receiving what people offer me and knowing i am worthy of their affection as a shining being; by trusting; by letting go of fear and knowing i will be unconditionally loved by those worthy of my love.

do you know what i've found so far? *laughs* i'll tell you...

i've found the real me, buried so long ago she was believed lost forever. i've found the freedom to exercise my true nature, which is one of pure love.

5.08.2008

a pox on all technology!

i promised pictures of the gorge the other day.

if i remember correctly, i'd also promised pictures (at least one) of me at the vampire ball.

so far, i've failed you miserably. but i swear, the great god BIOS --god of computers and all related modern technology-- hates me. fie, fie i say! a pox upon any- and everything that breaks simply because i'm in the room.

my camera decided to have some sort of grand mal seizure right before the trip. it won't stop flashing at me, takes pictures of absolutely nothing, tells me it's off when it's clearly on, and the list goes on. and the scanner doesn't work, so i can't even digitize the portraits taken of me at the ball.

and believe me, i looked damn hot. 80 bobby pins, ninety minutes in the salon chair, and my best "You Are So In For It" red lipstick with plenty of gloss for the perfect wet sheen, and i was the dark goddess of sultry deliciousness.

there must be pictures, damn it all to the ninth hell!

ah well. i shall find a way (don't i remember something about *mj* buying a new scanner recently? hmm...), and i shall endeavor to buy a new camera. preferably one without epilepsy.

and now i leave you with more delena haiku, inspired by my trip:

raining at the start,
i left the clouds behind me --
stepped into a dream.

enchanting colors,
sun to make me recall home.
i was smiling bright.

sunshine kissed my skin.
music thundered in the car.
wind laughed through my hair.


5.07.2008

delena haiku



i'm off to the gorge --
me, the road, and the cam'ra...
possibilities!

5.06.2008

brezsny-on-the-blog

CAPRICORN (Dec. 22-Jan. 19): It's an excellent time to make yourself more magnetic to blessings. You might want to experiment, therefore, with good luck charms or magic invocations -- anything that you imagine might attract benevolence into your life. How about the potion that is popular in South Africa right now? It's a concoction cooked up from ground-up vulture bones. Or maybe the kind of mystic jewelry I saw advertised in one of the tabloids, a necklace made of meteorite chunks? Both of those would pale in comparison, however, to the thing I consider the very best attractor of blessings. It's the sacred metaphorical talisman that Tom Waits recommends in his song "Get Behind the Mule": Always keep a diamond in your mind.


just as long as i can make it a pink diamond, mr. brezsny, i'm all for pinning my ear to the wisdom post and my eye to the line.

and so, having said that, i give unto you, Fans of Funk, my invocations and charms for attracting blessings:

while standing in a mud puddle and hugging myself, i dissolved a four-leaf clover on my tongue and visualized myself riding piggyback on my future mate.

i drew a picture of copulating hummingbirds on a dollar bill and taped it to a road sign on a street with a suggestive name.

then i stood on top of a mobile home wearing all red clothes, and hurled a chunk of stolen meteorite as far as i could while shouting out the name of my beloved -- whatever that may be...

then i built a blazing fire, stripped naked, smeared war paint on my body in the style of my native american ancestors, shook my snake tooth rattle and waved my mummified chicken foot over my head, hopped on one foot, and balanced a jello cake on my head.


...'kay, no, not really.


what i did do was forget all about trying to glom on to my perfect mate and instead decided to make myself into the perfect mate. this year, i wine and dine me and make me my perfect lover and mate.

whether i find anyone, i want to be my perfect mate, and it all comes down to two qualities: beauty, and truth!

i will then gather my kitty paraphernalia, in the great name of Bast, and infuse my glittering, pink-and-purple kitty necklace with all the phantasmagoric, divalicious wonderfulness that is Delena of the FunkyWild in hopes of acquiring the grace and poise of the house kitty, the self-confidence of the lion, and the sultry languor of the panther.

oh yes. it will be mine!

recently i have come to realize the almost-futile, holy-grail-doomed quest that is seeking perfection within myself. it will remain ever elusive and just plain lame to continue chasing such an ephemeral dream. and so, in the spirit of the japanese artful discipline of wabi sabi, i have come to the realizion that i am perfect just the way i am, glorified in all my flaws --not because i revel in mediocrity, but because nature has infused me with the beauty of asymmetry, the poetry of curves and dark colors, and the wisdom of discernment that upholds my virtues all the higher because i possess such beauty in the midst of flaws.

i am not perfect. but i am perfect for someone. the perfection of perspective.

out there, Somewhere, is the beholder who shall gaze upon me and love me...for in their eyes i will be perfect, flaws and all.

the breathtaking and oft-praised pink diamond is a precious stone with imperfections which mar its color. and the flaw is glorified, even sought after...

5.04.2008

sacred life sunday


my beloved kitten, Rumblestrut, whom i saved on snowy christmas
and introduced to the good life: catnip mousies, wholesome food,
clean water, warmth, luvins, a soft bed,
and an endless array of things to get into.





i had tried to get a pic of him napping on the kitty tree,
but of course he pouts because i killed the kitty zen.
delena the zen-slayer.
rumblestrut the guilt-tripper.



he helps me find my inner kitty...

5.02.2008

what's that word again?

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