Soul Purge

Thursday, January 05, 2006

Soul Purge Current mood: satisfied Category: Goals, Plans, Hopes Her therapist heard 3 weeks of life events. She knew she would have to be efficient in highlighting the events from the previous three weeks. She's had enough time typing them that they are perhaps committed to memory. The sting of any failure is much less than from three weeks ago, two weeks ago, or even just a few days ago. There has been much disturbance and change in these past few weeks. She had been bottling them, but sloppily. There have been eruptions of emotion and irrational actions. Nothing too damaging, as that is not her way. She drank a little and considered creating a production, but thankfully her fantasy life remains in her head, much like a child's. The cinematic screen of her mind paints her a different woman than she sees before her. She noted to herself in the restroom today after rubbing her hands free of the industrial soap that this was the year to gain self-acceptance. This is the year she gains satisfaction with the gifts she possesses and explores cultivating more. This is the year she claims her skin and her body. She notices in the mirror that brown skin becomes dull in wintry months. The splotches are much more noticable and the spot where she extracted the errant chin hair has now become another blemish to be. She wonders about the Proactiv ad she saw on someone's television recently. Puffy Coombs and Vanessa Williams were touting the magical qualities of it. Ads must work, because she remembered these moments and the product name. She hopes there is a more environmental way to even her skin tone, to accelerate the healing that the shea butter provides. At work she had a few meetings, wrestled with files that needed to be sent for a fundraiser event next week. She had discussions with her coworkers about the break and all that occured. She ate a spicy brothy soup from the South Indian restaurant across the street from her doctor's office. It was excellent, a nice bit of hot to stave off the semblance of cold that was beginning to take ahold of her immune system. After sharing ideas, she shared Rob Brezny's Real Astrology with her coworkers...a Libra, a Gemini, an Aries, a Virgo. All of our messages for the year vary and all seem to reflect our visions for the year well. She received a random phone call from her friend's boyfriend's band's drummer and they arranged to meet up for a ride, but since the files uploaded so late, she had to decline and suggest he take public transportation over to the gig. Paranoid by Black Sabbath played while they spoke. She was so satisfied to hear this track. Her morning commute began with Erykah Badu's "Love of My Life" and songs continued to improve from there. Hall and Oates, Guns and Roses' "Welcome to the Jungle". Each track triggered an emotion, a sense of power, an event. By the time she found parking, she felt empowered for the day. No amount of pidgeon poop would deter her from feeling her power. And it did not. Excellent. She is on her way to rocking out with the Ben Storm Band at Oakland's Uptown Bar. 7:59 PM - 0 Comments - 0 Kudos - Add Comment - Edit - Remove

Mira eso, otro dia bonito! Current mood: content Category: Life More suicide bombings in Iraq. Slight chances of showers later this afternoon or evening. The bed is warm. The sun is streaming into the room. Dreams have left the eyelids a little heavily. The eyes felt sore from crying, but generally the health is good. The health is okay. Motivation stirs the lumbering woman from the bed. She stands in her celestial pajamas, a gift from her mother. The sun and moon and stars decorate the flannel, two-piece jammies. Bare feet touch the floor. She rummages for a shower towel. She disengages the radio because the news doesn't inspire her. She examines the contents of her conscience. Her sadness has much disappeared. She takes the lemon into the bathroom, starts the shower, and squeezes the juice all over the scars on her legs, torso, and face. It stings just below the left breast and under the armpits where the skin is raw, still recovering from poison oak. The steam from the shower is billowing out from the space between the curtain and the spackled wall where the landlord has recently tiled, but hasn't completed the job. Curls of steam escape through the bathroom window. Fog begins to form on the mirror and she steps into the shower, after applying a mud mask to her face. The once-clear glycerine soap is getting cataracts. It's slowly becoming translucent from use and exposure to water. She picks up the woven bathing mitt and lathers the soap onto it. She leans over and begins with her left foot and leg. She massages up, careful to scrub the dry skin on the outside of her left leg, above the ankle where a patch of poison oak is drying. She carefully lifts each breast and gently scrubs the raw skin and scarred skin to encourage exfoliation and healing. The warm water is refreshing. She almost hums to herself, but she is thinking how much better she feels. She shuts off the shower, rubs the deodarant crystal on each pit gingerly so not to make the tender skin sting and takes the shea butter from its jar and spreads it from head to toe...carefully massaging into the scars. She's heard shea butter heals. She's seen on documentaries that African peoples use it after scarification rituals and their skin always seems to radiate without blemishes. Genetically she should be able to mimic these people. Her mind apologizes for the recent madness and is thankful for the compassionate understanding and boundary-setting of her friends. She returns to her room, skips the ritual sweeping of the floor, begins the tape and sets the Yoga book on the floor before her. She sits to clear her mind, become mindful of breathing. She begins the warm-up set. Four repetitions beginning with cat and cow poses, then up to downward dog, thread the needle, child pose, up and circle back and open the chest, lean on those arms, then up and stretch the spine, lean to the right and lean to the left. Let your thoughts dissipate. Breathe. Ah, Breathe. She doesn't breathe heavily, not too vocally. Sound travels throughout the house easily because of the wood flooring. But she breathes deeply. Next the Thursday poses, the sitting poses. These ground you, according to the recipe. Excellent, she thinks. She squats with the prayer pose arms spreading her legs and feels the stretch in her hips. Her favourite pose in the set is the boat pose. Her abs work and shake in this pose, she's balancing on her sitting bones and her tummy involuntarily shakes. She knows this is strength developing on a core level. This encourages her. After the set, she lays in corpse pose a few moments, then turns to her side a few moments and then comes back to easy pose. She OMs three times, in her mind, and then closes the session with a little prayer. Next she dresses. Jeans? Yes, jeans. Purple tank top and a wool blazer. Simple earrings and a Rosie the Riveter pendant from her friend Burt. Hiking boots. Pony tail with one dangle of twist coming down from the right side of her face. She wants breakfast, enjoys a Wallaby Organic Orange Passionfruit, tea, and some vitamins and nutritional supplements. She then checks her email and then blogs. She responds to an email and is amazed to re-read some of its contents: So, i don't know what i'm doing sending you this at 130 in the morning. Just wanted to wish you the most badass kickass new years EVAHHH!!! foevah! and evah. Ok i'll stop now. So i was reading this book called Ishmael for my English class...and the first couple of pages talked about this dude [can you tell i'm a really detailed person?] who wanted to save the world...but hadn't really had a teacher to guide him so he just kinda gave up. But, all he needed was a teacher and he believed he could save the world. Now, i'm not just typing this for no reason. I just wanted to say Thank You for coming into my life. You know, i always wondered if a person like you really existed...AND NOW I KNOW! Ok, my point is: You are my teacher. Honestly, i had always wanted to meet someone who was as inspiring as you are. Dude, you rock. Hard. You've taught me a lot and i will ALWAYS be greatful for that. Maybe you don't know how much of an impact you've had in my life so i just wanted to let you know. I know other people share this with me. You are seriously the coolest person i've ever met. Ok, i just wanted to let you know. That's why i'm writing to you at 130am...so you know that you've changed my whole outlook on the future and how to follow what i really want. And this reminds her that her journey is sweet, that each drop is precious and that a lifetime is more than ample to explore each possibility. She goes boldly on to get chocolate and oatmeal for breakfast and onto her doctor's appointment. It is Thursday, after all.