See that box there?

Don’t try and put me in it

Beautiful contradictions don’t fit in boxes

Labels —

So feeble minds can try and make sense of the nonsensical,

The Impossibly Complex,

Like You

Or Me

Stop trying to Know

What Clings to your clothes?

When you walk down the street, do you know what They say about you?

Stop listening

They do not matter

I’ll tell you a secret

You do not have to accept the projections

Look up at them with Clear eyes and smile

Perhaps turn your head side to side and wonder aloud,

“Who are you talking about? Because that, dear one,

Is not me.”

Let them see who they really speak of!

Hold the mirror up!

Who wrote on you with permanent marker?

Lies —

Permanent marker comes out if you keep at it

I breathe in air free of past illusions

I wear nothing but Change

I speak in tongues and ride the wind

I kiss my sweet animal body

Humility and Empowerment keep me sharpie-free

Join me

Rinse off what has trapped your gorgeous soul

And Fly


The Bullet Rose

Did you know…

There is a name for a rose that never blooms?

It closes so tightly in on itself that it cannot open.

They call it the Bullet Rose.

It never gets the glorious, torturous Break Down that screams, “Yes! Yes I am alive!”

Instead its petals are like arms crossed defiantly over a chest refusing to let any feeling in.

And isn’t that the Real Tragedy?

Because something happens in the breakdown:

It is the undefinable Mark of Chaos;

A mark that becomes clear-cut only by its utter Confusion where




Going into total Dissolution;

Caterpillar liquifies

Suffers to become butterfly

And so, too, do I.

I know by now It is coming.

Ah but I fight it, I fear the pain.

“Not again

Not again.”

But yes.


That is where Acceptance comes in

And having a memory that can hold onto knowing

That the Break is never The End.

We either evolve or regress or worse yet…

Stay fixed;

Hiding too long in one place

We erroneously believe is safe.

Like the poor Bullet Rose

That never gets the Beauty of the Break.

Nor the Resurrection that is only faithful moments



I find my own Heart



Beating in warrior rhythms

Slow and steady

Waiting for me to return to it

And I have

The reunion

Is a true


I am solidified

In this liquefied ever-changing Whole

Humbled and Empowered

At the same time.

I no longer question.

Simply, I just


This Is God

I am in The Chrysalis

I sit in meditation

How do I begin to tell you what it feels like

To be in the womb of the Great Mother?

How do I begin to describe this warm, pulsating energy

I am dropping down into

As I am lifted up at the same time?

I have never been more sober

Nor felt more high.

I am in a soft Orange-Red place.

I feel myself release into Trusting.

And then I

E X P A N D, oscillating out into Everything

And there is no more “I.”

How do I tell you I have actually

Experienced being One with the whole


That “being one” is not an idea

But a sacred Act of Allowing

Allowing yourself to Feel so completely

That you lose yourself.

Only…it is not scary at all.

Not like I imagined.

My sweet ego thought about the end of my life and pleaded,

“But, there’s no one like me! I don’t want to die! I like who I am.”

Now I Know

Beyond a shadow of a doubt

Death is nothing to fear.