“Bitterness is like cancer. It eats upon the host. But anger is like fire. It burns it all clean.” Maya Angelou
I’m Angry Today.
And that’s a good thing.
On the beach this morning I remembered my journey [in this lifetime]. Recall your journey. Start at the beginning. Gather in and remember. Where were you born. What were your major passages, your turning points in the road. Dani Shapiro calls them your “tacking points,” like a ship crossing the ocean, turning about, changing course. Your losses, your triumphs. How did you get HERE. My story is powerful, your story is powerful. These are powerful stories we are writing. Then later in the morning in yoga, my teacher mentioned Shiva while in Goddess Pose and I thought about relationships, I felt how in the New Earth our masculine energies are rising to meet our feminine, curling and snaking around each other like the rising Kundalini snake. Union. Balancing. Men are writing me, their Feminine is Awakening. What to do they ask. Allow, I say. My masculine energy, I suppress it sometimes, then I find myself in only long flowing dresses lounging around like an impotent Cleopatra, an imbalance of the feminine, I lounge around and receive too much, I lose my Do-er, I become needy. I go into dream-land. But when I balance, when I balance I am so powerful, maybe too powerful- no, no such thing, that’s a warning from the old days- to fear a powerful woman— that’s the stuff of witch hunts. And so I drive to the store from yoga, I call a friend, I leave a message, but I’m driving slow, and a leering man in a big black truck is staring down at me from his overly-souped up loud & roaring machine, and yells “GET OFF THE PHONE BABY.” And I nearly, nearly, slam on the brakes and jump out of my car like some wild amazonian monkey. Because that’s how my body’s stariting to feel, like I could swing through trees in the jungle. But I don’t— I yell THANK YOU so loud I hope it hurts his ears, and visions of Thelma and Louise in their jeans and cowboy hats and dust-streaked faces with their shot guns pointed at the blubbering face of the trucker who harrassed them endlessly as they drove for freedom [from an abusive husband and an army of male cops after them for shooting a rapist in self-defense] arise. I am so close to that some days, so close to absolute madness about the imbalance and supression in the world, so I find my way of blanketing it, but then I sleep too long. [That’s always been my problem, the sad girl in my heart who wants to sleep forever. Don’t sleep I tell her- your body, soon enough, will be blanketed by the earth forever. So don’t sleep. Throw off the blankets. Always always always dear, throw off the blankets and rise.] But that man still leers at me in his rearview mirror, and here is an example of a masculine imbalance, I think, that he sees a woman, looks down at her, and thinks he can yell and tell her what to do. And even worse— he thinks he can call her “Baby.” 20 minutes later I am in another parking lot, a man is staring at me. This is normal. I am wild-looking, but more people were looking at me like I was strange today than usual. [This brings up another subject, the way people start to look at you when you wake up with curiosity and fear, but for another time. You look different, you just do]. I brace myself for a man to say something else, I look him directly in the eye, but it turns out he just likes my shirt. It says “Everyone is A Star.”
“You are!” I tell him, relieved. “Everyone Is.” He laughs joyfully. I release a bit of anger toward the old paradigm [I stop letting the men who have hurt me and taken advantage swim in my head, but I also am thinking of the children dying in Libya and Syria and the women being raped in Rwanda- see- my ANGER] I unclench my frustration with the patriarchal eye-for-an-eye society for a moment. Then I make my way home but when I try to turn off into the dirt road an old man has blocked the entrance to check his mail, leaving the tail of my car in the street. A Shiva day for sure, my teacher called him in. On Shiva days, Lessons of men abound. I wait. I wait with a smile on my face and my car half in the road and only love for him, I watch his sweet slow foggy movements. He feels it. He turns and jumps, “Oh I’m so sorry,” he says, and scurries his aging body to the car to move it. “Please don’t worry,” I say, “that’s ok.” Do I shout out in fear or anger, or do I wait with love and calm him down. I wait. I think of the grizzly over-testoteroned man, and what he would have done. Laid on the horn, barked at the old man. I would never think to shout at him or call him a name. That raging instinct must die. That raging instinct no longer serves. I am the Divine Feminine. I allow with love. Everythign is choice. When we begin to wake we begin to “choose love.” Soon, like all things with practice, we just become Love, as it is our natural state. We return to Love and then we Live in it.
I think about relationships in the new paradigm, I have been thinking about them for a while since I met a man who interests me— I have to say, it takes a lot to interest me- because of my masculine energy, I can do it all myself. I dont “need” men. In the old ways I sought men to fill the holes in me, I talked about this the other day with a friend - Adele’s song “Someone Like You” [“Nevermind/ I’ll find someone like You”] has it all wrong, she’s creating a vicious cycle of need and loss for herself and will always feel empty that way— seek the things you needed and wanted in him, in yourself. Foster them. My fiance had the confidence and the powerful pen. The man I dated after that had the connection to Gaia. I have those now, I don’t seek anyone to fill any holes in my soul, I will fill them myself, I balance myself. This is where want vs. need comes in. I want, not need his company. And yes let’s talk about everyone who is breaking up and splitting up right now. I know you see it everywhere. It’s not your fault, you’re shifting. There is no longer just femme or masc energy in one body- that’s how it was in the old paradigm, mostly, and this created the duality and separation and confusion. “I am Man, You are Woman.” No longer. Duality will not heal the earth. The illusion of separation is the source of all problems. We really are all one. Because my masculine energy has risen and is balancing, the way I “needed” men no longer exists inside of me. I look to men as equals. Because they were given outside anatomy and mine is inside, doesn’t make them, at all, more powerful or capable than me. Make no mistake that the old Sarah would have apologized to the leering yelling man in the parking lot and slunk away. The new one was beyond ready to go head to head, and wanted to make him pee in his pants- while he apologized.
I’m writing fast because I want to go to the beach- but I also wanted to say this, for some reason: I don’t have boyfriends. I’m not a girlfriend. That creates old behavior patterns for me. Sad and needy ones, twisted mind-game behaviors. This is my choice, although I came to it through experimentation. I tried, in the new pardaigm, to treat a man as I did in the old paradigm. NONE OF THE OLD WAYS work. I’ve learned this again and again in the last year. So no, I don’t long for their calls and their texts and their dates anymore, I live in the spaces, live fully in the spaces, in between our time together. I am not hungry for a ring— nor do I want one. Amazing, coming from a girl, who when her fiance left her, she wanted to die for a whole year. But to me a wedding is a future goal, and I don’t live like that. I have to live in the now, it’s the only way. Focus on the future and the present is gone, then things start to fall apart. I also don’t have any interest in a goverment-sanctioned ceremony. I don’t want to spend the money I don’t have to celebrate Love, nor do I want anyone else to spend theirs on our love, I don’t want to be congratulated for it. And I dont need to call anyone “my husband.” I think a partner during this shift needs to be SO open to your change, because we are all transforming so rapidly. That space needs to be held and witnessed- for both parties. Freedom. Does this sound un-romantic? Trust me it’s not. I am still kissed in the street and wined and dined. I’m told I’m beautiful and my hand is held. All of the stuff that can be taken for granted, I relish in. The Divine is in the Details. My father once told me, when my fiance and I were fighting for the millionth time, that he wished my mother and he could have “simply enjoyed each other,” and that he wished the same for us. Tim and I were too far gone at the point, but I think this is the key to Love. “I am here to love, and to be myself. Can you accept the terms? You are here to love, and to be yourself, I also accept those terms.” The fact that I don’t let myself fall apart for a man in the spaces in between, or lose my mind about the unknown makes for pleasant surprises when I see the man I respect. I don’t write the script anymore in my head and freak out when he doesn’t follow it line by line. That’s not fair or safe- or any fun. I let it write [and right] itself. I don’t have boyfriends, I have lovers. This means I have someone who when I see him, I show care and love and let him be himself. This means he does the same for me. I also write knowing he could be gone tomorrow. In the old way it was: “I don’t want to lose you,” while clinging on so tight and in fear. In the new way it is: “I know, someday, I will lose you [for life is change and all must pass] so I love you whole-heartedly in the now.”
Old ways, old ways, old ways, take your last breaths. Hello Divine Feminine, do your work in every heart. I will continue to be your vessel. Namaste, New Earth. Aloha, men who are waking up to the Divine Feminine, mother yourselves, love yourselves, we can all do this together. I am you and you are me.
STILL I RISE, Maya Angelou
“You may write me down in history
With your bitter, twisted lies,
You may trod me in the very dirt
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you?
Why are you beset with gloom?
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns,
With the certainty of tides,
Just like hopes springing high,
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken?
Bowed head and lowered eyes?
Shoulders falling down like teardrops.
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you?
Don’t you take it awful hard
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines
Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words,
You may cut me with your eyes,
You may kill me with your hatefulness,
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you?
Does it come as a surprise
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide,
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide.
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave,
I am the dream and the hope of the slave.