In two short years, from 2010-2012, so much of what defined me for most of my adult life fell away and I was left, primarily, with my own raw humanity. The specifics looked something like a laundry list of deaths, large and small. I was humbled for a long time by my own disorientation and rawness. But more than that, I was humbled by the intensity of the times we are living through on this planet, and compelled by the urgent need for us to care for the earth and each other.
The truth is that the falling away in my life was one of the biggest gifts I could have ever imagined and the more I welcomed in what I thought I didn’t want, the more life showered me with love. It just didn’t come in the package that is so often sold as the American dream. Even amidst the wreckage of divorce, illness, the loss of all financial security, and starting over, I began to experience the joy, beauty, and perfection of my life. It wasn’t like that every day. Some days, the grief and anger spilled onto everything. But other days, in the quiet of nature, and to the sound of my own beating heart, I discovered who I truly was. In short, I came to know myself as a poem of atoms.
As my life unfolded, I began to experience it as a kind of working theory of the universe, the physical embodiment of an inexplicable intersection of multiple polarities. The spectrum of these polarities include the breadth and depth of human relationships, sexuality, desire, power and responsibility, victimhood and sovereignty, health and illness, and our relationship to the earth.
Some particulars of my life include two successive, long-term intimate partnerships with women and, most recently, six years primarily as a single woman, exploring the world of intimate relationships with men. During these last years deep rage and grief erupted as cellular memories of childhood sexual abuse arose, which led to the release of multiple traumas from my body, and the integration of fragmented aspects of myself into the whole of my awareness.
My life has included included the years-long struggle and dance of relationship to chronic physical pain and fatigue in my body and journey through depression, both from which I have recovered. I’ve earned my living as a counselor and social worker and as an entrepreneur and small business owner. And, notably, in the last ten years I’ve undergone a total restructuring of what it means to know or not know–as I’ve come to claim the gifts of life as an empath, as one who is clairaudient and clairsentient, and travels easily between and among multi-dimensional realities.
I am honored by your presence here.
“There is but one world and everything that is imaginable is necessary to it. For this world also, which seems to us a thing of stone and flower and blood, is not a thing at all but is a tale. And all in it is a tale and each tale the sum of all lesser tales and yet these are also the selfsame tale and contain as well all else within them. So everything is necessary. Every least thing. This is the hard lesson.
Nothing can be dispensed with. Nothing despised. Because the seams are hid from us, you see. The joinery. The way in which the world is made. We have no way to know what could be taken away. What omitted. We have no way to tell what might stand and what might fall.
And those seams that are hid from us are of course in the tale itself and the tale has no abode or place of being except in the telling only and there it lives and makes its home and therefore we can never be done with the telling.
Of the telling there is no end. And in whatever place by whatever name or by no name at all, all tales are one. Rightly heard all tales are one.”