THE QUEEN IN LOVE AND DEATH

The Queen has been away on a long journey. She has sailed the seven seas and gone far from the Kingdom. Disguised as a commoner, she sees new sights, new worlds, new possibilities. The old Kingdom seems to disappear; things shift. Dark cobwebs do not have any power over her any more. In fact, their power has lost its grip completely and any demons have vanished. The Queen remembers the court astrologer telling her one time, “Your Karma is done here.” Although she misses Prince Pepe dearly, something calls her to keep traveling, keep moving far, far away from her old world, and venture into the other half of her life in a new Kingdom far from the maddening crowd. This power she has achieved, this trust and having survived so much difficulty with the demons, she now realized that they were doing her a favor. Her battles with the demons have made her strong, so very strong and brave and fearless. She thanks the demons. She loves the demons and tells them so. They have taken her by the hand and have led her to the doorway out. They led her to a new Kingdom, to the Kingdom of faith and everlasting life.


I am at sea on a cruise ship, heading back from Cartagena, Colombia for Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. We have been on a two-week cruise. It was a much-needed escape. The winter was indeed hard and long. I was so grateful we missed several heavy snowstorms and I danced in delight in the warm, humidity on the first day of spring when we were in Mexico. My hair has body, my skin glows, my nails grow. Such earthly paradise!

There was so much moist green in Mexico, Guatemala, Panama and Colombia. Things grow here in abundance. Such a contrast from Colorado. Truly I feel an energy shift. It’s powerful. Like a release. I am free on an inexplicable level. Could it be the haunting of the past must be left behind? My traumatic childhood, my husband’s death? My ex-husband’s looting me? To let that all go. Pack up and leave. I feel reborn, as If a second half of life is opening up. And having the King in my life makes such a difference, too. A companion, a confidant, a lover. I don’t wake up panicked and stressed. There is someone by my side. This makes me feel more confident in myself than ever, as I have been alone most of my life, and now I am not.

Strangely, I have this intense urge to rid myself of possessions and wander freely. All the loss from my ex-husband’s real estate shenanigans, even ending up with my property, it no longer bothers me. What is loss? What is gain to the sage? In my life I have seen so much come and go, it just keeps coming and going, but I’m still here above to keep coming and going and be. You really don’t need much in life at all. The American Dream is a lie, a con, a farse. The materialistic capitalistic world cuts us off from our inner dimension in which everything is provided in joy. What power a wandering ascetic has, to own nothing, but his faith. Even a man on the corner, who lost his job, his sign reads, “Lost everything except my faith.” How I have been there several times before how true. Those demons and difficulties, they make your strong, faithful and powerful. Everybody should be so lucky as I to lose everything, for your find yourself in the process.

I realize how hindering it is to have things, keep up with them and keep them up. Before I married my first husband, most of what I owned fit in the back of a car. He convinced me otherwise, that it was a mark of success to own things, have a big house. With marriage to him my possessions exploded – furniture, tools, hardware, books, gym equipment, kitchen gadgets, cars, and all the stuff you need to maintain them. When he died I had a massive estate sale, got rid of half of it, but when the movers moved me to a tiny house they still said, “Lady, you have a lot of stuff.” I was horrified. I got rid of more stuff, But the handyman I hired to remodel the place called me a “clutter fuck,” I knew there was something wrong. Then I remarried, and a lot of my possessions were stolen by Justin or his mother and sister, which whittled things down a bit.

I realize now that most of my stuff is collections. I have this fascination with artistic artifacts that decorate my house: antique salt and pepper shakers, antique cameras, antique pins and buttons, antique books, indigenous weaving collections, a collection of incense burners which I gave to my father. Stamp and coin collections, magnet collections on the side of the fridge. Antique doll collections. And then there is my artwork and books, and family photos. I’d keep those. Put them in storage. But the collections can go. The furniture I’d give to my father or Krishna sister who moved back from India. She can use them. I’d be free. All I need is my laptop. I’d home school my children, go and see the world and teach them by traveling. And really, the US feels a lot like Germany 1933, and its only a matter of time before the dollar really crashes and the nutty militias who have been loading up on bullets and homemade bombs start coming out of the woodwork. I’m dreaming of a yoga farm in Argentina. I’ve already contacted them. I’ll visit with the King and see, and naturally hang out in Buenos Aires! I’d do anything to get out of Beige-istan, Colorado. I’d do anything not to have to drive I-36 anymore and see nothing but big box, suburban hell. It strangles my soul so much. I need life!

For death can be lurking around the corner, and I no longer can bare to live in Colorado. Something compels me to leave. To see the world, my biggest remaining desire. My children are bored to death in their schools, the budgets are being cut, and after watching Bowling for Columbine again I realize the schools, and American culture period, are not safe.

I no longer can participate either in the American way of life. I want to ditch my car, not consume oil, but walk. I am tired of the endless drone of media that speaks nothing of the outside world. I am tired of my countries terrorism in other countries, its terrible foreign policy that I am apart of.

As for Speer, I have Gilbert managing the place. The hairdresser couple skipped out on me, leaving the place a mess. Gilbert got it cleaned up and filled again. The neighborhood is in high demand, thank goodness. I will have the people in the basement start painting in the spring to make it look better and slowly raise the rents over time. The King helped me catch up on the mortgages and I am so grateful. I had been living off the mortgages and paying off some medical bills with them, because since October I had to slow down and take care of myself and children rather than work because things were just Oh, too stressful with Justin letting the house go into foreclosure. I can’t collect from his realtor insurance, despite my lawyer’s best efforts. Next we will try garnishing his wages.

I will be able to hire a manager for Speer and afford it by living abroad, where things are cheaper. I stopped paying my credit cards since I couldn’t afford them any more and since Justin isn’t paying me back the $30k that was to go toward paying them. I am making deals with my creditors to pay them off, and I will save up money for that living abroad. I won’t have to declare bankruptcy. Regardless I will still be self-sufficient, make my business work. Believe in myself, for after all, I am the Queen. And by practicing yoga and meditation and by studying Raja Yoga in particular, I realize once again the power within. That the outside world is an illusion, a game for you to play. I realize the power of your will and mind. You can do anything. You just have to believe it, and amazingly by being outside of Colorado and that harsh climate, the energy has shifted and I truly believe I have that power. Something in Colorado held me back. But now, nothing is held back, especially my love.

And what is life? I have lived 43 years, done pretty much everything I’ve wanted to do, so now I will travel. And also I will teach children. How poverty and ignorance bothers me. I will make my business into a non-profit and start the Storytime Yoga Children’s Mission. I will serve children, teach them the peace I have found through yoga and story, so that they can be peaceful and end the wars, end the madness. Somehow I feel my father’s childhood war experiences will be not forgotten, but remembered as to prevent any more suffering.

Because I believe death is around the corner. I will live a long life, but death is always right there. It’s a good friend. About a month ago, all in one week the Chile earthquake hit, my in-laws were in a terrible car accident in San Antonio, I spent the day at urgent care with my father who was severely ill, and a friend of my late husband drowned in a lake. Another friend came to visit; her mother had died suddenly. It was as if death was coming to remind me of something; life is short, what are you going to do with it? Sit here in this bland culture or are you going to free yourself, go out and explore the world, teach your children about the world, and do something to serve children around the world?

I will go wherever people invite me to teach, put on a training, visit. I will wind this blog down and start on another one, penning my insights on the vast world, its stories and customs, to share with people. I will write my memoir, what to call it? Memoirs of a Yogini perhaps. Because the Queen is very happy. She has found that faith inside her, that everything has had its purpose, to bring her into complete faith, complete surrender, and to learn the power of yoga and storytelling. That she is sustained by the race of Lord Shiva, and he’s asking her to go out now. Go out into the world and journey, teach. Have a mission. And that mission is love. The great love I feel for the world. Even though it seems so horribly shrouded by evil at every turn, there is just as much love. The love I have for my children, the love I have for my King. The love I have for the divine. It’s a great sense of trust, of adventure, of fulfilling destiny. Yes, The Queen must take a risk. She will let everything go, and she will follow her heart, wherever it leads her.

Sergeant Pepe the Duality Dog, and the Tree

Today the Queen of Bohemia went up a different mountain on the other side of the Kingdom. She hadn’t been there in a while, and she wanted Sergeant Pepe to be off leash for he had been promoted to Prince Pepe. For you see, Pepe had been groomed at the Penelope’s Pet Palace outside the Kingdom. And although for the castle and the court he was fluffy and lovely like a black-and-white pom-pom on four legs, truly he has the wild side along with his master the Queen. He’s out again in nature and the mud to get dirty, but he might as well show off his new do to the other big dogs, chasing them vigorously before happily catching up with the Queen out of love, his territory claim marked as yellow snow among the big dogs.


My dog, Sergeant Pepe, is the trickster. I manifested him. The black-and-white duality dog is he. Years ago I had envisioned a set of children’s stories with characters that imparted yogic wisdom. The dog character would be the trickster, based on the black-and-white Zuni clown. So Pepe showed up at the humane society one day when I was looking for a dog. This half Papillon, half border collie cutie. We called him a “half-ion,” or a “scrap-ion.” I never made the children's book characters, but I have Pepe now, and he gets me out to walk.

We walked this time up near Devil’s Thumb. From the South Mesa Trail in Eldorado Springs the rock formation looks less like a thumb but rather a penis shape, which was obvious on all the school hikes up there, but left unspoken. Pepe is pretty well trained, however, sometimes he just won’t come. Reasons are usually when he sniffs something intense in the woods, which means it probably was bear, coyote or mountain lion. Another reason not to come when called is to eat certain types of poop (Yuck!) or chase after prairie dogs (Panic! Is there a ranger watching?) At other times he is just the trickster and times unpredictable. That’s the trickster’s role; to let you know that just when you think you’ve got everything in life under control, he comes along and pulls the rug out from under you. Such is life in duality.

So when I walk, it’s a matter of training and suspense. Pepe’s gotten good with his off leash skills in the open space. So when a dog approaches, I’m no longer chasing after Pepe who is in pursuit of the dog and its owner for a quarter of a mile back down the trail. And I don’t have to constantly carry treats. He just naturally has his fun with the big dogs, being like the rabbit at a racetrack for the dogs to chase around and show off this hilarious Papillon spin to him.

Whenever I see a dog ahead on the trail, however, I still get this feeling of, ”Oh, no. How is Pepe going to behave? Is it going to be chaos? Or calm?” For the other day he decided he didn’t want to get back on his leash and I had to chase him across several people’s yards in the snow for ten minutes before I tackled him.

I figure life is like that. I can be content in the moment, but every time I see something coming ahead, I don’t have to feel anxious. I’m just in a calm state of quiet alertness, ready to act, but available in the moment to seek options and alternatives to the problem. It’s a trust in the moment that the answer will arise and the problem solve itself. I've learned that the tiger is content because he knows he has everything he needs in the present moment. I’ve been at it so long, now I really realize the secret is not reacting to anything in the first place, which leads to suffering. When you’ve suffered enough, you are like the rat from college psychology class movies that has endured zillions of shocks for the cocaine and finally realizes this hurts and it’s not worth it! Such is evolution. I now feel am calm and confident that I will figure out what to do with the sight of each dog coming down the trail. Sometimes it is luring Pepe with a treat, or chasing him for half an hour, and most of the time he just behaves because he loves me and wants to please me so returns to me and continues walking.

I had my father over for lunch the other day. I made a fresh avocado and lime soup. We sat at my house and talked. We talked about the coming economic collapse, and he assured me not to worry because we are all going into the fifth dimension and the UFOs are going to make disclosure soon. He forwards me newsletters via email about alien disclosure, and how the disclosure date was moved because Obama still won’t reveal the truth and how disappointed everybody is. Waiting for the savior! That myth keeps popping up every millennium or so. I figure, why not UFOs? They've been in our psyche for a long time now. I think Star Trek might as well be true, I mean the I-Pad is out! Jung said that the imagination is real. It exists in energy, and in the Yoga Vasistha there are myths that echo the idea that things are created because somebody thought of it. Like in the novel Sophie’s World by Jostein Gaardner. Or like Shopenhauer, who said that the universe is being dreamed by a single dreamer in which all the dream characters dream too. And then there's the Aboriginal dreamtime. Might as well make my own dream time and believe in it!

Also, we had a rare event of my kids and my younger sister and I taking my father to see the movie Avatar. I saw it for the second time, as did my son. I can’t remember ever seeing a movie with my father. I feel the movie acts on a subconscious level, drawing us toward the psyche’s need for balance. Jung said that Americans are incredibly one-sided, completely ungrounded and weren’t ready for yoga because they were not in their body. This movie pretty much sums it up, how cut off we are from nature and the feminine functions of the psyche and our body. So nature corrects itself. Mother is pissed. Durga! The machine is stopping.

Avatar is a powerful myth for our time. Man as the machine, heartless, murderous, plundering and pillaging for profit. As if we finally need to confront our past that we have been in denial of for so long. The history of Western colonialism -- murdering natives, enslaving them for capital gain and keeping us triumphant over nature by denying mother and death and to acknowledge (root meaning of the word confession) those nefarious deeds. A Reuters article recently reported a study that proved that luxury actually makes one more selfish. But if we are selfish and separate, then we are alone. So terribly alone. That terrible fear, like a story from the Upanishads. Even the divine, once aware of itself, was afraid of being alone. So it divided itself into all the creatures of the world. So that it could play and love and not be alone, yet it is also still one. That’s the beautiful paradox. We embrace the paradox. The dark stuff isn’t so scary any more. It’s just playing its part in duality. Like Bush ushering in the destruction of America. Somebody had to play that part. Maybe the devil really is the most beloved angel of God, like the Muslims believe. Or like the dogs on the trail. They just keep coming. No need to fear them, just accept them coming down the trail, and be prepared to draw upon your training and experience. Epicurus said that tempestuous storms make skillful pilots.

Avatar inspired me into the heroic life. What is it to really give yourself over to something? In The Ernest Becker’s Pulitzer Prize winning book, The Denial of Death, he says that the biggest problem young people face today is that they have no call to the heroic life. Death is denied in our culture, however, it is facing death that creates heroism. I remember I heard that when I worked as a stringer for the Bakersfield Californian. I had the northern Kern County beat. I regularly covered Delano, where the Cesar Chavez grape strike started. I also volunteered to do religion reporting and stumbled on a story of these three sisters. They owned a bar and restaurant on Delano’s skid row, but they had an experience with the Pentecostal movement and realized they were contributing to people’s sin and suffering. So they stopped serving alcohol and put on these parking lot revivals on Friday and Saturday night. I remember the sounds of the distorted voices through the bullhorns cutting into the darkness. I remember the Hispanic women and migrant workers standing and waving their hands near the stage, giving themselves up to something. The man I interview told me, “If you haven’t found a reason to die, you haven’t yet found a reason to live. That was Christ’s message.”

Living the heroic life. Find a good reason to die, what else is there? Haven’t we finally learned to believe in our eternal nature? What is there to lose? Just our egos. Physics tells us energy can neither be created nor destroyed. We are identical with the powers of the universe. The Mayan believed that the world tree was actually the Milky Way. This tree that connects us to the cosmos. This tree that is us. I think of my nervous system like the branches on a tree - reaching into the ethers and sensing the divine energy flow, conducted through the tinier branches. They say that on December 21, 2012 is when the center of the galaxy is lined up with the earth. Maybe we don’t space travel linearly but by consciousness itself, manifesting bodies at will, manifesting what we need across the dimensions of time and space. And we are at one again with the universe and are in accord with nature, not against it and alienated from it and only consuming in it, but participating in it. We are participating in the myth, and that makes all the difference because we give ourselves to it whole-heartedly. And besides, it's a hell of a lot of fun that way.

The Queen thinks, what does she want to do? What is this life about? She decides that it is to really follow her bliss, put on some clothing in disguise, leave the Kingdom and the castle and set out to explore the big-wide world. And do something wonderful because it makes her heart feel so good. Sergeant Pepe agrees.

The Optimist Queen and her Transvere Abdominus

The Queen hiked up the mountain today, but alone, for Sergeant Pepe was getting groomed for the ball and to go as Prince Pepe instead. She hiked up, footing skillfully the ice and snow. She remembered her mountain goat self, her steady, rocky ascent uphill. And she remembered her reptilian tail, her fishy, watery instincts in her hips on down. She felt the bird bones and she was quite comfortable there as they propelled her on.

She wore her crown, with the big sparkly blue jewel in it, and she sang her song the Shaman gave her and the feeling that was in her body swept over her. It was a lovely feeling. When she reached the top, she did her usual proclamation to the big, blue mountain, and she said, thinking there should be something to affirm or overcome or wrestle or struggle with and instead she said, “I am at peace.” There was just the moment, and the moment was perfect. Even though the King was still at the bottom of the earth, she knows and feels the shift. He turned the corner, he is headed north again. Her heart is so relaxed and full at that moment it touched eternity looking at the mountain. The Queen’s court called just then. The King’s heart was at her Castle Door! “I’ll be right there!” And the Queen hiked back down the mountain, mindfully but very excited and with a quicker skip to her step.


The past few days have been nothing short of remarkable. It’s amazing how the more you surrender and the more you love the more things fall into place. I think it's because the mind is in harmony with the body and the body is in harmony with the environment, and that's when the boons come. That's what purpose myth serves. Then synchronicities show up. Because you live the mythic life. Things have their own meaning, their own story. You start with today and now and shape it the way you want with the ritual of images and words and intention. No wonder witches were burned at the stake. They were powerful!

I spoke at the Boulder Optimist Club today. It was good for me to go, even though I had a little bit of an upset stomach for some reason and felt a little sluggish in the morning and less than optimistic. I was invited by the 80-year-old widower, Carl, across the street. I had gotten him and my Dad together for lunch at my house to talk war stories no long ago. I like hanging out with old people. They have such great stories and history. So when he asked me I said yes, even though I don’t get paid.

I had a dream a few nights ago exactly standing and talking to the group exactly as I did today. In the dream I was giving a presentation, but said I didn’t have anything prepared. The dream was initially anxiety over the upcoming speech. I needed to think about it and pull it together. Finally I decided to just tell them about the dream! And not TELL them about yoga and story, but just ALLOW them to EXPERIENCE it. So I told them the Buddhist story of the Spirit Who Lived in a Tree, although I didn’t tell them it was Buddhist, and we talked about what images they saw. The Tree. The movie Avatar’s Tree is so powerful too. As if this basic life force and mythic image is erupting full speed ahead! The mother! Most people were senior, and one man was in a wheel chair from a stroke. I taught them how to breathe deeply and rhythmically and watch their thoughts. Then we just stood there in mountain pose, getting into our bodies. Just standing there in our bodies and noticing them and feeling them. I got the feeling that this was the first time for most of them they ever paid so much attention to the sensations of their body. Then they did tree pose, very simple, using the chair if required. I sat them down and then had them close their eyes for meditation and relaxation and told them the Christian story of Jesus on the water, although I didn’t’ tell them it was Jesus, just a master in a boat on the water with his 12 students.

It was nice to just be with people. Hear their stories. Old people like to tell stories. It’s nice to have somebody to listen to them too! Especially those old war stories. He made a point to tell my Dad's concentration camp story as an introduction. A woman bought my DVD. I thought, this was nice. I taught people to breathe, to notice the present moment. It was quite a joyous experience. It goes beyond any measurement our culture can come up with. For it’s measured in the depths of being, of the heart, and that’s where the alchemical story is taking place. As things transform, awaken, emerge. Truly a renaissance is happening to me, and to my heart and the person I love. And as much chaos erupts in the world, the reconsiliation of paradox takes place and there is just that much love, awe and wonder taking place. It’s all taking place in the heart and it’s fascinating. The joyous and loving feeling I had at the ceremony takes over, it lightens the heart, opens the throat. My bird sings, it’s joyous and flowering and so very, very new. Like the birth dream I had not long ago. The baby was coming out fast.

I’ve been having wonderful synchronicities with the King. As he has voyaged to South America and to Antarctica, to the bottom of the earth, to the fierce storms and winds and water, whales and iceburgs. While he was having his epiphany and turning point, I was having mine that same day. Yesterday, I knew it because our symbol, twin birds, showed up.

For in that day’s Shambhala meditation class, Contentment in Everyday Life, this woman I was paired with wore these gorgeous, Mexican twin bird earrings! I shared that last class was profound, as I felt the effects of meditation assisting in my mythic and heroic journey of getting over myself and the mire of struggle and relishing the freedom revealed.

It reafirms the natural goodness, the gentleness and openness of the human nature, not that there is some mistake, something must be fixed. That's how I felt my whole life. No longer. There are tools to assist us in life’s trials, but they are nothing to be of conttradition to each other to the joys of life, but to live in the paradox, and balance those out. Lessen the tension between the two opposites. Undo the complexes and patterning we are born into and are in this organism infused with energy and life force. How we undo the patterns and complexes to purely and simply bask in eternity.

We had been working with emotions last week. Seeing how they arise and working with them in meditation. I shared how this week I didn’t flip out and get my body worked up into a hot, angry fit filled with victimhood, self-righteousness and the need for justice when all in this just one week Speer tenant’s going to skip paying rent and use their deposit instead without my permission issues, repressed landlady who won’t let you paint your daughter’s bedroom something other than stark white issues, slimy ex-husband who isn’t paying you back the judgment you received because he allowed your house to go into foreclosure and not pay you $30k issues and other emotional issues reared their head.

The woman I was paired with wore lovely artsy clothes of red, and the twin bird earings. She’s a painter and a teacher. We had to share the feelings of trust and confidence we had in the past and now and how we may have had mistrusted or feelings of deceiving someone.
I told how the world wasn’t safe for me, didn’t trust many people, didn’t have much intimacy with people because of an isolated childhood with a violent schizophrenic mother and a concentration camp father. The present moment wasn’t safe. But to have the trust, love and confidence in myself that I have gained from showing up in the present and not identifying with my mind allowed a stability and a grounding to take place that my trust and confidence was found experientially through my body and awareness. And I found that the more you surrender, the more you align. And it’s very hard to do, that surrendering, but surely somehow it seems that the universe all along was doing all that icky devil stuff to you just to get you to give up on your ego ideas and point you to the light. And that ever since my ayayuasca ceremony it gave me the shift and incredible vision that I can never forget. The past is past and all that story gone. All I have left of it is a work of art in honor of all the love I have for it and the people in my life of past, present and future. Her story was interesting because she had the opposite, provided everything from her parents and had everything done for her so it created a terrible insecurity about herself, but that she is at peace with her artist self that even if she never sells a painting at a show that's not what it's about. it's about he making art. I really connected on that. We artists just need to create art. We do it for art's sake and because we have to! Hence my showing up at the Optimist Club or creating anything at all! And there is no clinging to an old story, no digging in the past anymore, but rather a starting from where you are.

The rest of the class was an Oniki traditional monk eating lunch. We brought each three bowls, each smaller than the other. We ate in meditative silence, and two women served simple food from bowls, tempeh, sesamea seeds to sprinkle on, mixed vegetables of asparagus, carrot and squash, brown rice. The second third pass was for condiments of tamari, salt or pepper and the sesame seeds. The third pass was for tea in the third cup. I had put food in it not knowing! And had to clean it out of the soy sauce!

We ate in silence, enjoying each texture, the sound of your neighbor crunching, of the different tastes and sensations. It was magical, so present and glowing reality.

Then a woman gave a demonstration on Japanese Ikibani, flower arranging. The two main stems, heaven and man, then the flower, earth. The stillness and arrangmenet meant to stop you in your tracks and point you toward eternity. It’s a doorway, a symbol that juts you beyond time and space and wakes you up to the now. Somehow I find lately everything is doing that - mountains, trees, chairs, flowers and art. Children's faces and even war and terror.

Later I drove to have lunch at Chipotle and conversed with the women in Spanish for my lunch. I stopped off at Guiry’s for art supplies before heading to my body work session.

I was blown away by this session and the depth of knowledge this guy, Jeff, knew. I had met him the weekend after my ayahuasca ceremony. Feeling self love gushing, I went to get a hair cut. I was early to the salon so I ducked in next door for a 10-minute massage for the pain in my neck I had from doing all the hot yoga classes and stretching the muscles so deeply only for me to stop taking the classes due to getting busy with kids and life again and for the muscles to cramp up severely and cause agony in the spot in my choulder from my car accident was 17 years ago and was nagging me all through the movie Avatar. So I had decided to do something about it and that's how I met Jeff.

I learned about my transverse abdominus muscle and how pregnancy separated it and was causing the destabilization in my pelvis and my organs and issue in my ascending colon because of undigested food! The work he did was hard to pin down, he had such an interesting style but I was so impressed with his deep knowledge of anatomy, the nervous system and how the body functions. I did decompression breathing, deep breathing all the way to the nerves in my head and slow exhalations, five per minute. He held the area of my udyaya banda and wehre the abdominal muscles separated and it was an incredible feeling. Like a psychic hole that was leaking out energy had been closed. And as he said, “You will be like before you were a mother.” Like a virgin again! So there is something to that process! It is an energetic feeling at the uterine, abdominal level. I also felt in one position as I looked down my body from the position on the table as if I were back in the hospital giving birth at one point. So powerful is the body’s memory. It was very real and huge. I felt so calm and peaceful and aligned after leaving there. And I naturally Googled everything on the muscle and what to do about it and look forward to more sessions because it’s so healing! I swear, all my health problems related to that issue! And I had no idea! And my son will be 12 this month!!!

And the Bohemian Bombshell never has felt more comfortable in her body, even thought she is plump, by Goddess she is full, FULL! Full I say! Full of life and it courses through her body, her breasts, belly, thighs, hips and arms. It just radiates life and all the good food of the earth moving through her in grace.

The Queen returned to her castle and found the King’s heart there. She knew that it was only a matter of time before the King’s body, mind and soul caught up and were here completely at the castle. And she’s so exited about that. But the Queen is at Peace. She’s at peace with everything right now. And she’s ticking down the days until the King finally arrives.

The Big, Blue Sparkly Jewel

The Queen of Bohemia went up the mountain again with Sergeant Pepe to the village science complex where there was also an art gallery. It was a pleasant walk up. There was no rush, no pressure, no where to get but there when she got there. Her heart rested, as if a hand that squeezed it had finally released it from its strangling grip. Each step is slower than usual; she pays attention to it and yet also notices the spruce trees, low-growing rosehips and wild strawberries in their winter modes. The Queen now hikes further than before, or at least in a very long while. She’s a little bit tired of doing other forms of Queenly exercise, so just hiking uphill gives quite a clearing to her head. There is a peace, a quiet that is in rhythm with the step, in rhythm with the moment and the depth that is there and where she meets all of creation. Where everything sinks down and melts into one.

The Queen was delighted in all the art and felt positive that among these dark ages brought about by the Dark King Bush, there will be a renaissance of science, art and learning once again! She took up making quite a bit of art herself, as the King sent some amazing materials to play with and she passes the day until she can see him again working away. And she feels like life is just beginning.

With the King in my life things have changed for the better. My loneliness and struggle have subsided. My heart can rest. I sleep better and dream profoundly every night. I trust the universe, and I trust that the last seven years are up. The intense difficult times are up, or at least a phase of them. And I honestly believe that because of my shift in this thinking, and from the ceremony experience and vision that I received, that good things are now ahead and not disaster. That let’s my heart go. All the post-traumatic stress melts away. The present moment is a safe place to reside. There’s no explosions, terror or upset to pull you out of the moment again, fray the nervous system. There's just this amazing moment and contentment. Regular sitting meditation does wonders to reprogram your nervous system and make deep grooves that are alert, aware, pleasant, and rooted in regular daily rhythm. Time does change things. Regular ritual, that repetio materi descendi, repeatedly descending into matter. You really do create your own universe just by showing up to it. And it’s amazing how the universe just irons itself out and works out well once you get all those self-imposed obstacles out of the way.

My older sister, Narada, came over last Saturday. It was completely unexpected. Her daughter, Radhika, called and said she had some rehearsal in Boulder so she’d drop her mother by. I was hiking with Sergeant Pepe at the time and quickly called my father. Since everything was so last minute – that’s how Narada had announced she was moving to India – I had the excuse that I’d have no special Krishna food prepared! What a relief! Naturally once at home I pulled out what I had, inspecting the gourmet cheeses for evidence of Rennet, pulling out the organic blueberries and mochi.

It was wonderful to see my big sister. It had been so many years. She left when I was in the eighth grade. She was six and a half years older than me; she really was the one who mothered me. Yoga, religious, gardening and vegetarian cooking passions were passed to us early when we were young through our father. That’s what we did together growing up. And only so often would Mom interrupt us with her insanity and her blows. Nancy was her name when we were young, and she took the brunt of Mom’s blows. Small wonder she ended up a Krishna. Years later I confronted the grief of losing her. For the years following her departure were marked by growing up alone. My younger sister would be removed by social services from our home, my brother would join the Navy, and I faced high school alone with my mother ranting about my siblings. I became a bulimic, raising myself alone and becoming the family cook, prepared by Nancy’s vegetarianism and by a 6-month stint as a 16-year-old working as a cashier at the 28th Street McDonald’s.

But now Nancy’s back! As Narada, and it was just her. Not her husband, Sri Raga, whom my mother always called Sri Rag Mop. Quite frankly I don’t like him either and was actually glad he was not there. Narada seemed relaxed and free. We talked about the food issue and she said it was Sri Raga, too strict, and I nodded my head in fierce agreement and vindication, at last! She told stories of India, roaming peacocks at Mayapur, the Bengali people. How I loved arm-chair traveling that moment and would love to make a trip to India one day!

I made her raspberry tea with agave syrup. She wanted honey and I felt guilty I didn’t have honey, for it was crystallized. It made me realize how often I feel I have to feel guilty about some mistake, some issue about me or anything. I think my kids know this and manipulate me about it. I’m always trying to cover up for some perceived error, some mistake. Chogyam Trungpa talks about this in his works. I still go to my Tuesday morning meditation class, Contentment in Everyday living, and I do believe I feel more content, in the moment, accepting of all things. It’s just that the difficult parts have evened out finally. It’s more balanced.

But Trungpa says how Western Judeo-Christian mythology expounds original sin, something wrong with us. And Buddhism emphasizes natural goodness, openness and experience. The west has this feeling of guilt, and children are taught from what’s wrong with their work, using guilt to improve. Rather than what’s right.

I still wrestle with that for me and my daughter. I struggle to perform for the machine of public education and do the worksheet homework at night with my daughter teaching Colonial American geography and map skills. It’s frustrating because she doesn’t know basic things, even though she’s in the 4th grade. But I can’t show it, because it mangles her self-esteem the way it did mine when I was her age in school and didn’t understand what was going on. What's wrong with her? What's wrong with me? What crap. i just want to be happy and good!

My son has moved downstairs and is happy there. I have to be firm though, because his teachers say he’s not turning in English and math work and has an attitude about it. Gilbert took him boxing once, and I’m trying to get him to go to gun club with him. When Narada was over he had fun looking through an airplane and war book with Opa. Guys need guys!

That night my daughter snuggled with me in bed. It’s so fun to have a 9-year-old daughter. We had fun playing a spelling game in which you make up a word based on the last letter of the word just said. Elephant, tomato, octopus, Sergeant Pepe. We laughed in the darkness and we said, “I love you,” to each other. Then she said, “I remember when I was little and you’d say, “’I love you,”’ to me and then I’d say, “’I love you,”’ to you, and then I’d feel all happy inside and see this big, blue sparkly jewel.”

That was everything for me. That moment. It was a Big, Blue, Sparkly Jewel. All of life is one. The simple joys of life. It’s everything. It’s so simple and so clear and wonderful.

Before Narada had left and when Radhika came to pick her up, I heaped lots of presents left over from Christmas that I didn’t get to give them and other stuff. Clothes, books and games the kids had outgrown; we rummaged through my closet and I just pulled lots of stuff I’ve had for years and didn't use. Funky beautiful clothes that I've performed in but rarely wear. There were clothes that I didn’t fit in anymore just hanging in the back of the closet. They needed to be cleaned out. The Bohemian Bombshell is never going to be a size 4 dress again and doesn’t even want to try, so out of the closet it went into Radhika’s arms. I gave Narada some wool coats and scarves for her adjustment to Rocky Mountain winter from Bengai India, and some blueberries I had. The house and my heart and psyche felt 100 pounds lighter.

She wrote me an email thanking me.
Sydney, Thanks for the photos and thanks again for the earrings, blueberries and so on. I plan to wear the earrings on Gaura Purnima and other special days. I used the blueberries in some muffins this morning and offered them to Krishna. The family loved them! I have extra batter and will bake more so that Kamesvari can take some muffins to school in her lunch bag.

I thought about you this morning. It is true you are also a devotee of Krsna...in your own way. I am really happy thinking about that.

Love from,
Narada (priya)


Life is a miracle, an offering, a grace. When you get to the source of the background of anxiety that plagues you like a sick ghost you wear around your body, you can be free. That it’s just the mind and the habit of the mind, but when you meditate you create a new habit of a place to hang out in. To identify there and exist there, untouched, unstruck. The heart rests, the intelligence of the Buddhi mind, rather than the Manas mind, radiates through. And there’s no rush, no hurry. Truly you have arrived. You have arrived in the present moment, and all of eternity is there too.

The Queen of Bohemia now wears the Big, Blue Sparky Jewel. right in the middle of her crown.

El Renacamiento de la Reina del Corazon

Vino de las estrellas
Tan Bella es Ella
Tan Bella es Ella Como sola Ella puede ser su misma
Se Coronó su misma
La Reina del corazón
Tan Bella es Ella

She came from the stars
So beautiful is she
So beautiful is she like only she can be of herself
She crowns herself
The Queen of the Heart
So beautiful is she

Song the Shaman sang to me


The Queen of Bohemia went into new territory today. She went up the mountain and then over it. She started scaling a new mountain. And finally she paused, there was a valley, and a the gate before the next spread of mountains. That was far enough of a new beginning. And it is a new beginning.

She lifted her fist to the mountain and spoke the song that the Shaman gave her, and she believed it with all her heart, all her body. “I am good, kind and beautiful Queen,” she said. “I am beautiful of heart and deserving of goodness. And may I be of service to children and to people. I am so grateful for everything” And then she walked all the way back, her body feeling wonderful, relieved, her heart aflame with joy. Her rebirth in an ocean of conviction she feels down to her core, and that is the most important thing.

Last Friday night in Boulder I had an ayahuasca ceremony with someone trained in Peru. I did the grandmother ceremony, which was done all night and in the darkness. I did not realize that I had done the grandfather ceremony of San Pedro years earlier in 1994 in Ecuador. I was with a boyfriend who was in the Peace Corp. You went into town and knocked on the door of this little shack. To the guy who answered the door you said the code, “I want to rent some horses.”

When I was in Ecuador, we ingested it at night. Daytime would have been better. My boyfriend had a bad trip. He revealed the grief of his mother dying at age 9. I baby-sat him and I don’t remember much else except the scent of jasmine that filled the night air. A woman at this current ceremony said, “The grandfather gives you exactly what you need. You’re a mother! You needed to mother him during tht trip!” So I realize I mother a lot of children.

As I prepared for the Boulder experience by fasting, I was a little nervous about the experience and having to confront yet another unknown demon of my unconscious that needed some light shed on it. I was ready for it. I’ve been battling one thing after another for most of my life. Bring it on.

The shaman asked us to to say our intentions out loud. Mine was for healing, to remove any remaining obstacles, and clarity. As well as whatever the plant consciousness wanted me to experience.

After being called by the shaman to drink the very bitter ayahuasca that was hard to get down, the first thing I noticed was the humming in my head, the music I heard. It was like the rainforest. And I remember the rainforest sounds. I remember the way the shaman sang his disconjointed notes, shook a rattle, moved his cigarette in the dark like a bird. 

I remember being in the Amazonian basin of Ecuador, four hours from Tena by motorized canoe. This semi-aculturated tribe grew coffee and we visited a Peace Corp nurse. There was a Shaman there, who said there was a medicine in a vine. I was interested, but not enough (SADLY!) to meet him back then. He kind of lurked in the background, doing his own thing. In my periferal. The nurse told me a story that there was once a really sick girl, and the visiting doctor couldn’t help her. She was dying. They said call the Shaman, and the Shaman healed her.

It is the belief and the ritual that healed her, I believe. We believe in what happens to us during a ceremony. It’s an experience. A shift in our otherwise mundane and profane worlds. And that shift and feeling in the body is so great you are not the same person you started with. Our society doesn’t offer much of a ritual. The old rites don’t give us any meaning for our modern problems.

So at the beginning of the journey my head started popping and the sounds of the birds made me think of my totem animal, the Raven. Bird is my animal. My symbol and spirit guide. My heart sprouted two wings and La Paloma Blanca said, “Sing your Heart’s Song.”

It was opening my heart, opening my chest and singing my song. Not anybody else’s, but mine. In my vision, I eventually came to a rooftop of a house, and out of the chimney appeared my mother’s face, which was immediately replaced by this witch puppet. This puppet was purchased in Santa Fe, New Mexico in 1970 when we lived in Albuquerque. It’s a piece of Mexican folkart and part of a slew of characters, like La Dama a pretty girl, El Borrachero, a drunkard, and La Bruja, the Witch. My mother hung it on the front door of our house growing up. It was like a talisman, and it really looked like her, exactly like the Queen/witch in Sleeping Beauty.

Then the witch turned pretty, as if it were I. She showed up to a little girl in a suburban neighborhood and said, “This world needs some enchantment!” And explained to her how she’d take her under her wing and apprentice, they’d work invisibly, bringing kindness and magic to the world, brightening everybody’s modern, mechanical and meaningless lives with ancient rites.

In my vision, then I traveled back to early, early childhood. Albuquerque. Four years old. My toe getting stuck in a tricycle and bleeding. My mother’s abuse and the painful words she told us. The frightening screaming and hitting and pounding our self-esteem into the ground. Her bag lady clothing, used, torn and ripped. Her unkempt hair. Our worthlessness, undeservingness. The witch.

I remembered little things, like a doll named Rosebud who smelled like roses.
I remembered kindergarten at Heatherwood Elementary in Boulder, Colorado. 1971. Standing in line. A boy, Jed Maletz, just turned around and punched me in the stomach for no reason. He turned back around again. Nobody saw it. Nobody did anything. I just doubled up in pain. Why did that happen? For what reason? Did I deserve that? I suffered in silence. And the class moved on.

I remembered the third grade. Playing four square at Douglass Elementary. Some bully fifth grade girls stole our ball. Narrowed me and another girl into a corner. Saying things to us like we were ugly, stupid. I was so bold to try and punch the ball out of the girl’s hand to get it back. But it failed. She grew even more angrier. She hurt me, and when I cried she said, “You deserved it!”

What did I deserve? To suffer? Do people deserve to suffer? How I felt I was undeserving of happiness, of fulfillment, of letting my star shine. So put down by many, so feeling shameful. Did I bring on my life’s problems expecting suffering as all I deserve?

Then that all changed. My thoughts were that I was beautiful, that I am deserving, that I am good and worthy and talented. Storytime Yoga is beautiful. It has great value and merit. I deserve happiness with my King, to have all my wildest dreams come true. Why not reach for it? Why not step into it. You deserve it! You’ve worked hard for it. You are a good person with a good heart. Of course you can be fulfilled and happy! Take it!! Love and be happy! Serve as the Mother with the Storytime Yoga Children’s Mission. Stand in your glory!

The Shaman called us up one by one for individual Limpias. He sang the song above to me in Spanish, and it was profound to hear that. As the Queen, crowning herself. So beautiful is she, like only she can be. She crowns herself I took that as my need for self-love, that assertion and conviction that I was worthy, deserving, beautiful and my work great. That it was OK to let your star shine, to sing your song to the world. That you don't need the outside world to validate your self worth. It comes from within. And that I was to spend my life with the King as my partner in love and happiness, travel, do good work together. Things I have dreamed of my whole life. The shaman then also drove energy into me with his hands, for me to be a little selfish, have boundaries, put energy into me too, not only for others, taking care of others at my expense, as I have my whole life. We spoke in Spanish, and being rather rusty, I was amazingly fluent. After the singing and the personal ritual the Shaman said to me, “Now do you believe that you are not ugly, truly surely from this experience?”

“Yes,” I said. I truly believed it.

Afterwards I thought of other people, my ex, my late husband, my children, old boyfriends. My father and his tight shoulders. To let that all go. To ask forgiveness from them and healing for them. Everything happens for a reason. To be grateful for our difficulties for they bring the most profound results on the other end. You just have to hang on and show up, take the roller coster ride for its ups and down.

Then the vision subsided. It was enough. Things were normal again. My mind raced and raced, but my body was so tired. I did not sleep the whole night until the ceremony was over in the dawn.

In the morning we had garlic lemon water to re-alkalize the body. We talked and ate. I was finished and needed to get back to my children by the later afternoon, but people were going to continue with San Pedro and do the grandfather ceremony.

One thing too, is that you vomit a lot during the journey. You hear others vomiting all night long. It’s quite intense, but also very purging. I vomited so hard sometimes I peed my pants! But it was cleansing and I got all that negativity and old crap out. Whenever fear came up, it usually came up with the feeling of sickness. It made you stay present, listen to the Shaman, the singing, the present moment and release stuff.

And now a week later things have shifted so much. I’ve integrated the experience and cemented it with plans the King and I have made for the future, and with long walks in nature. I am relieved, less tense. It’s wonderful to have somebody in your life. Somebody who has your back. Somebody who you have his back for too. His heart.

I did have my obstacles removed, my demon confronted. Only I was surprised that he demon was so gentle. I was only afraid of myself. Of my own capacity for love, just for myself. To love myself. That can heal everything and shifts the whole world. It is not a terrible place where I will get pain, but a joyous one with expectation of beauty. And it’s not something that happens with just talking about it. You have to have that kind of an experience. It’s a psychological and somatic experience. It was the ritual. One ayahuasca ceremony can save you decades of therapy. A vision is that powerful.

I don’t wake up in anxiety anymore. Just love and gratitude. Excitement too, because the vision was so clear, so profound. It was guidance I never received my whole life. It’s still in my body that feeling of love and joy and happiness. Whenever I feel those old doubts that creep up, the feeling instantly replaces them.

I show up at the Everyday Contenment class at Shambhala Center on Tuesday mornings. It feels good to sit and meditate in the safety and peace of the present moment. It's good to be among friends and community. I like what the instructor said, that meditation is like putting your children on the school bus. Your thoughts will be gone for a little while so you can meditate, but they will be back! Don't worry! You'll see them again, so just make this time for quiet meditation!

I met with the therapist at the Mental Health center. I told her everything. She was happy for me, helped me to cement it in the outer world. I’m working on getting health insurance so that I can have my own therapy, and so that somebody else who is down on their luck and in need of help can receive it. I said I was so grateful for their help. Whom do you turn to if there is such despair? Thank god for Social Services. That’s what makes a society great. That we care for everybody, without judgment regardless of income or circumstances. That every human being has inherent worth and dignity and deserves help and respect. Sadly these services have been cut way back. Whole centers closing in East Boulder County.

I don’t know what’s wrong with this country. Where is its heart? It’s scary about what happened with the Supreme Court ruling today. I’m very scared for this country. The machine, the artificial body, the CORPORATION, has taken over for sure. And the people allow it! Maybe it’s the fluoride. Where is the capacity for outrage? We are not the UCA, the United Corporations of America, and it’s eating everything in sight, most of all your rights and democracy and freedom. Welcome to the Machine! Ruling with money and power to influence campaigns and candidates. The propaganda machine for the masses. For what? Alienated consumers and the machine of expansion. The movie Avatar is a perfect metaphor for this. The Father machine killed the Mother Earth and its creeping around colonizing again with its path of destruction and inhumanity. We live in this stifled matrix of society, way out of balance with nature, and it’s self destructing.

But I think there is going to be a Great Awakening. The Goddess is back. She’s showing up in green technology, medical marijuana and a return to organic gardening, compassion for people in Haiti. The Machine will Stop, and soon. Things are breaking down fast. But that’s OK. For the greatest amount of darkness means there is just as much light as its opposite. That means it’s a great time to be an artist, thinker, humanitarian activist in this age, because your number has been called. The Journey has begun. It’s Showtime! Because you can’t stop the heart. You can’t stop life and you can’t stop the soul. There’s a rebirth going on, so get ready!

So is the Renaissance of the Queen of the Heart, AKA the Queen of Bohemia, who cleans her own house and really loves the King.

And Still the Heart Dances

The Queen is fasting after realizing that the sludge of holidays needed a bigger kick at leaving the kingdom, and she took Sergeant Pepe for a walk. Moving in rhythm with her body once again up the mountain, up, up she goes, forgetting the mind, just being with the body. She was, however, a bit distracted, lots going on in the castle and its interior realms, workings and people and she didn’t like the cold so decided to turn around. Sergeant Pepe resisted, pulled her on. The Queen did continue up the mountain, reminded that she had forgotten to proclaim herself. “Thank you dear Pepe!” she said. Pepe winked.

Finally at the top she stood there, looked at the mountain and said, “I am the Queen of Bohemia, and it’s happening! I can do it myself! I believe in myself! I see a solution!” That and with a lot of great people in my life I can do anything!” And then she walked down again with Pepe leading the way.

The Queen has a very fine court. HER court, no more dreadful TRAFFIC courts. She is driving the speed limit, and she has to admit, it feels good to slow down. But the Queen still had to rev it up it a good 10 MPH in certain spots in the country where she rolls her eyes and can’t figure out how possibly on earth anybody with a brain would post it that slow and which village nitwit was it?

The Queen has been gathering the HEALTHY advisers around her and they assist her in her decisions. And just by waiting and breathing in and breathing our rather than jumping to impulsive actions or freaking out and panicking and grasping in terror, she realizes that she can make it through the tension and come to some good solutions as she gathers the information over time from advisers and makes a decision all on her own. Why Queen Elizabeth would be jealous.

The village people are freezing in the rental cottage on Speer and want out of their lease early. The Queen quietly contemplated the situation for a full three days and after doing some investigating, decided what she shall do. She feels great. Calm, and by George she feels LIKE THE QUEEN.


I’ve been working with my chest lately, the throat. The hot yoga really gets in there deep, works things out. I’m among all these young people at the Core Power, and a lot of the time I’m doing a variation for my personal benefit to get deep in my chest, deep in my shoulders as I see fit. Hell, I'm 43 and I don't care. There is an expansion in my chest I haven’t felt in a long time. I can breath deeper, it’s in the center of my chest and it goes up my throat. I like a lot of back bends, something I've always resisted, they open these up. I can do the deepest backbend ever, which is huge for my usually so inflexible spine because of two herniated disks. Just as the cadaver lab teacher said, "The thoracic spine is what makes the heart dance." So it is happening.My heart is dancing. Once John Friend touched that spot behind my heart when I was in urdhva dhanurasana and said, “There’s your stuck spot.” I can never forget his touch at that spot. The back of the heart. In my chest, with the fear gone, the shoulders can slide down the back. I focus on my tail bone and relax. I am grounded and speaking from my heart, not my head and neck.


So the spine dances the heart, the heart opens. My chest spreads and my throat opens. My bird in the tree wants to sing, breathe deeply, make music, tell stories, be free and expressed. And my bird is happy. She is content. The jaw loop is engaged and it helps the shoulders go down the back. I focus on the tailbone and everything drops down to the floor and I am centered in my heart, relaxed, ready and alert, witnessing the miracle of the present.

I remember my feet, mulha banda, the pelvis grounded, my core my refuge, my shoulders to be relaxed. It opens the chest. I can gain the stillness of the moment. The peace of not grasping, not needing to grasp because you don’t have to worry about survival, that you won’t starve, die, be murdered like your ancestors.

I think it’s the root of my fear. Besides the uncertainty as a child that was programmed into me that at any moment that my mother was going to start screaming and doing something terrifying to me. It’s an ancestral fear passed down generations. Fear of annihilation. My father, who survived a Japanese concentration camp on Java as a child, his terror and grief subconsciously filtered through to his children, to me, to my children. They carry it too. A massage therapist who works me and my kids said that we all as a family have tight neck, shoulders and backs of legs. My father has the same thing. I massaged his shoulders and neck as a child. Our body patterns follow. The lingering unconscious influence of the parents’ psyche. But my story isn’t very different from others. How about somebody who is Jewish and their grandfather was only one of eight children to survive the Russian pogroms. Or a Native American on a reservation who doesn’t trust a donation of fine fingernail polish because she suspects that there is some poison in it because they want to exterminate them. The world is filled with some very sick people who start wars and kill others in a self-righteous rage.

The fear becomes less with stillness. With grounding in the body. Slowing down, being in sych with the world and being PRESENT, being PART OF IT. Surrender to how the body feels and moves in every moment. It's a form of safety.

With less fear in my life things become more and more clearer. They are much simpler. I am down to the root chakra where I know what I can and can’t do. As I always do too much and I typically do it all myself. But my work and future projects are very clear. It’s simple, manageable. I don’t have to rush around. I have people who help me in my work. My family life is balanced. I have time to take care of myself and have hobbies other than my hobby of work. Like cook, garden, read, go to the theater or a movie, hike and travel. Slowing down to the rhythm of nature just moves you through the heart. There is a definite trust. All you have to do is really learn to be patient and wait things through. I’m typically impulsive, the first to say, "I Love You." I’ve matured, seeing what waiting actually does. It provides a great foundation of being and knowing that this is the right choice so that you can proceed unencumbered.

I’ve been gathering information about Speer. A friend is helping me make some choices about it. Things are moving forward. I just let the creditors call. Thank you for different ring tones! I’m waiting to see if I can get my money from the house. I’ll forge ahead with my passions and my work. Despite the fact that tenants want to move out of the cottage before the end of their lease because they are freezing, since it’s been abnormally cold here and Justin did such a shitty job on remodeling it in the first place. Not even the insulation I installed helps. Ah, well. Such is life. And still the heart dances. Still the Queen lives in awe and beauty of such a fine opera. And her flowering tree with a little bird in it center blooms in winter. "Caw! Caw!"

New Year

The Queen had to go to Court today. Not HER court but THE Court. TRAFFIC Court. Somehow on the road at a certain point her carriage turns into LA GATA NEGRA and transforms into a wild black cat and it gets her into trouble on occasion. It just happened to be in COMMERCE CITY, of all places. Is there anything IN COMMERCE CITY besides the power plant that as a child looked like the city of Oz to her? The Queen was confused. “What? I can’t just write my check and be done with it? I have to GO TO COURT!” She was horrified, aghast. “It’s so unbecoming of a Queen. AM I GUILTY?” she wondered.
Among the masses of bad drivers, delinquents and indigents, she nervously confessed her penchant for speed to the Big Wig who seemed not impressed and figured her being from Boulder had some cash to plump up the city coffers, and who merely lowered the fine but only by a little dispite her chirping about “a lot of stress” when the Big Wig asked her “IS THERE ANYTHING YOU’D LIKE TO SAY.” Overall the Queen felt the day was wasted, however, she did get to visit a friend and get some work done at the same time and praised the technological advances that so discretely allow her to cheat and fill the dreadful time that is supposed to be, she guesses, punishment. She drove in her carriage the speed limit all the way back to her castle like a good little girl, but she knows the desire will return down the road. One day.

There is a rhythm that one can align with. It’s the rhythm of nature. It’s a synching, and aligning. It’s a slow process, one that doesn’t let you go without some kicking and screaming. But it’s the good sort of kicking and screaming. It’s the type that cleans you out. Because you need it and by George, it seems the only way because really you just don’t get it otherwise so it becomes necessary by all means.

The new year is off to a good start. An amazing shift of solstice energy, dying and then being reborn into light – has proven powerful. Wonderful surprises, realizations and also painful ones. It was a pleasant enough time with the kids. The Festivities, the good friends and food, and then the purging of the house. Getting rid of all the gaudy tinsel and clutter which makes me can’t stand a shred of Christmas the day after, my birthday, so out it all goes and I undertook a massive cleaning and reorganizing of the house. The Christmas tree is outside, ready to be chopped up for fire wood. It felt wonderful. And then a shift and clarity in my work and naturally surrendering to its process. Not being afraid of waiting, not being afraid of the uncertainty. Just sitting there with everything and enjoying the moment anyway.

We opened our presents on Christmas Eve with my father after lunch of lox and bagels and homemade carrot ginger soup. My younger sister, didn’t show up. My older sister, who has just returned from India, didn’t make it either. It was a bit disappointing and lonely for some reasons, but also wonderful for others. I put their wrapped presents in the closets and didn’t cry.

Of course with my sister’s it’s a source of old pain. That same old story. What are you doing for them? You set things up nice, and they don’t show up. Pretty typical. Pretty disappointing. I didn’t let it bother me. I shifted my focus on my kids and did fun things like sledding and going to movies and making lots of artwork. It was offensive, though, that my older sister demands thing. Like that I should prepare food for her. As a Hare Krishna devotee, she demands rigid food. Both my sister-in-law have run ourselves ragged in years past to provide fine vegetarian food for their demanding and austere pallets, only to be snubbed when her husband won’t bless the food or it was cooked in the wrong pot or, God forbid, was made with KARMIE HANDS. I remember nearly three years ago when she suddenly announced she was moving to India, drove up from Dallas and she showed up the day before her flight. I had surrendered and not prepared anything, knowing it could not pass her satisfaction. She seemed offended. “I should have called ahead and told you what to make me!” I felt terrible, ran out to Whole Foods and bought wonderful vegetarian items. But once I returned she said, “Oh, my God! Syd! I forgot to tell you! Today is a special day! We have to fast front grains! I’m so sorry!” So half of my purchases were useless. Thank god for my niece, who I call “Krishna Lite,” said, “I’ll eat it. I don’t care.” Needless to say I get a long with my niece. But I sense some kind of redemption. My older sister coming home. What needs to be said? Reconciled?

I know it is about my value. I remember my mother. When I was a child, calling all us girls whores and dirty bitches, screaming at us, beating me with a stick. Am I worth anything? I had given birth to my daughter. I had been home from the hospital less than a day. I sat with my baby daughter in my arms on the couch and my mother shuffled in. She had a crumpled up paper grocery bag in her arms. Her hair typical and matted and unkempt, her clothing torn and ragged. She thrust the bag, my daughter’s birthday gift, into my husband’s arms and announced to me, “I’m ready for a pizza. Mushroom.” I didn’t cry. I just breathed in and out. I was never allowed to shine. It was always her. Or my father. Or my sister, or other sister or SOMEBODY. It was never about me.

I remember her gift. What was inside that brown bag. The gift from my mother to her granddaughter. My daughter. Me. 1) a sample of a Kotex, opened. 2) a bracelet of coins, broken, from a garage sale purchase 10 years ago. I remember it from her jewelry box. 3) two clipped coupons for Knox Borden condensed milk to save 10 cents. 4) 5 apples, with worm holes, from their backyard apple tree.

So I realize, what is it about me that is unable to see my own value? My own worth?

But I do see it. This New Year. The grinding of the wheel one more time. To face oneself in the harshness of winter. It’s very cold again. Bitter cold. It’s been icy. Things have not melted as usually promised in sunny Colorado. Al Quaida seems to be penetrating deeper into US territory. It’s getting at things. Putting a mirror up, rooting things out. A numerologist once told me that I was supposed to learn about taking care of myself. Standing on my own. I didn’t want to believe it. But it’s always that way. You set it all up for people. You get little in return. I’ve tried ludicrous means of finding my value from other people. Only to be once again disappointed. All along I refused to believe that I could get it met through my own talents, my own worth. But I guess it’s that pressure that cooks up innovation. Maybe I will turn Speer into a medical marijuana grow house and salvage it. I was there today, collecting the laundry coinage and trying to figure out why the hell the new dyer isn’t working. Heavy Sigh. Maybe I’ll just really focus on my work, discipline myself in yoga, build a community of HEALTHY people around me, and watch my own star shine.

I talked to my father today. He had some X-rays for his legs, which are puffing up, causing pain. I find myself caring for him more and more. I do, out of love, but caution. Where is my light? Where is my shine for caring for myself? He told me about my younger sister. Her car broke down – again. She wants my dad and his neighbor to tinker with the motor and fix it. Somebody help her. Somebody help me. That learned helplessness. The Powerlessness. The black mold in the basement. It strikes us all. I recognize it in me. Nobody is going to come to my rescue. I keep putting energy into it, it buys me time, and heartache, and ultimately I do come up with a solution. Why not believe in yourself? Is there any other choice?

I told my lawyer, who is wonderfully, finally, preparing the complaint against my husband to the department of regulatory agencies to try and collect my money from my house he had foreclosed on and failed to sell as a realtor. I’m in holding pattern. Breathing in and breathing out. Showing up now at CorePower Hot and Yin Yoga among all the young CU Boulder student bodies, and sweating and cleaning and releasing and feeling good. Accepting what is, my body, my self, my talents, my life. It has all the echoes of a sweet surrender and a beautiful composition.

I feel more aligned. Slowing down does the trick. So does surrendering. I couldn't whip myself into a frenzy if I forced myself. I'd rather be in balance. Anything else is just too painful. I'll just go with the flow, thank you very much. There is simplicity, balance and presence. There is redemption, fulfillment. Ah, the last thing of my mother. She really visited today in her ghost. I remember reading her letters from Europe. 1955. Her adventurous self. But never allowing herself pleasure, satisfaction. Ah, the guilt, to splurge on a better room, a better seat at the opera. Do I deserve it? Am I worth it? I see how my mother set it all up. I see how I pierce it all and rewrite the story. The flowering tree in winter. It keeps me rooted, keeps me blooming, keeps me present, no matter what.

My father said today that he talks to my mother. "She's well now, you know." I think she is. It's the retroactive healing of the ancestors. your healing heals them all. "I believe it." I told him. Not sure if I believe we are all going into the fifth dimension and that aliens are about to be revealed and nothing will be left by 2012 so don't worry... but I believe my mother is well. And that so am I.

It’s a slight adjustment. A tinkering of sorts. Clean out the last corners. Kick off the New Year with a Bang. Recession be damned, we all know artists will save the world AND our souls. So why not just keep being one. It really doesn’t matter. You just align to your dharma. You believe in it. And that faith and belief is like a strong horse. Once you get on, your destiny’s ride is assured.

So is the Queen’s New Year. 2010 is going to be her year.