Loving you

I take pride in loving you. It’s an art, a science, a spiritual practice. It’s as cyclical, as calm and as wild as the tides. As essential as breath. I dreamt of u all night. I would awaken almost every hour on the hour, drink water to cleanse my palate. But there u were again as soon as I reentered the dream world. Rooted and transcendent. Deep sea diving but we’re flying. A tapestry of love’s mysteries embodied in your fire and your peace.

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Christmas in Cuba

Like old women who were once BEAUTY queens, buildings radiantly worn, time has aged them increasingly VIBRANT, there’s a thickness in the air, my hair has created a life of its own, jungle texture, there’s a PURITY and a GRIT that exists in the people that hasn’t yet been corrupted by our consumerism, we praise thru song and DANCE to the deities originating from the mother, OSHUN drips honey all over her body, seduction, chango takes hold of my hips, cigarettes so prevalent my voice has some rasp, I like the sound and consider smoking for 3.7 seconds until the feeling of being boxed in with the smoke leaves me claustrophobic for freshness and life force, no puedo imaginar Cuba without vintage treasures that adorn their streets and lives and hearts, no system is flawless, I still am learning what it means to be FREE, beyond the constraints of my government, in the obscure parts of my mind, in the pained parts of my heart, dancers BRILLIANT as the sun! honored to study with maestros, limber/effortless/fluid they paint through their bodies with a strength that withstands the cement floor, my feet dance till they’re dead and reincarnate into a spirit beyond my understanding, no mirrors in class to learn so everything must be felt, the queen of folklorio reminds us to dance with our faces, Rumba! Various levels of provocativeness, one in Matanzas where the man playfully pops the woman in the pussy! damn! the roosters call our alarm clock, Guantanamo’s HEART exceeds its reputation, el aire in Santiago tan sucio – makes LA smog seem refreshing, no toilet paper in any public restrooms, my uber healthy spoiled palate adjusts to minimal veggies, good thing I love some rice and beans, pescado and platanos, mmmm fresh mango juice, dark aged rum, ménage a trois via salsa, SINGING on the verdadero American r&b tunes with Cubanos and Americanos, laughing and free, Christmas in Cuba! taking in el campo y la ciudad, the sea my heaven, every molecule baptized, there is no higher BLISS, grateful for golden LUMINOUS souls impacting the world with their light, met a 7 foot tall otherworldly angel whose hug pieced my heart together again, the father drum asks questions the mother drum gives answers, polyrhythms in my body, my heart’s elation, beautiful tears of joy born from realizations, cheeks ache from smiling, I will never be the same.

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City of Angels 

When you get through the big pain, this is what happens: near blinding RADIANCE. You will have more to give—and you will LOVE giving it. You will seek to give. It will be the most incredible feeling. Someone is going to come to you with a broken wing, or low on reserves and you are going to have so much love and insight to offer them. You’ll actually say things like, “I can help you with that!” And you won’t feel taxed or burdened or obligated. You will feel like you are doing your work in the world. In essence, you will become an Angel.

You will have a LOT more energy. (If, currently, your adrenals are shot and you’re just piecing together your exit plan, this may be hard to believe. But…believe.) You’re going to get up earlier and stay up a bit later. You will intensely want to live life. Making, meandering, pleasuring, giving, learning, LIFE. You’re going to want more of it than you ever have. You will be intimate with joy—because at some point during your immense suffering you will have felt it. It seemed ironic, and then miraculous, and then…yes…even in the midst of pain, I can still feel my true nature—and it is joy. You’ll know that happiness and agony, and delight and grief come and go, but at the core—is always joy—YOU. And you will be confident that you know how to find your way back there more easily.

You’ll look different. As in better. A bit shinier, maybe even blindingly radiant. With all that weight off your shoulders, your spine will be straighter and the prana will be flowing more. The weariness in your eyes will be replaced with the sexiness of presence. It’s going to show in photographs and it will be seen by your tribe, and wow…holy shine.

You’re going to make better choices. If you’re on the other side of agony, chances are you’re way less inclined now to make compromises or bend to your breaking point—and you will spot the death eaters and dream stealers before they get on your property. When you’ve transmuted dark poison, you develop an appetite for light and only light. You will choose to eat the light, point out the light, paint with light, speak with light, make love with light, dance for light, work for light, laugh with light, rest in the light, inquire from the light. You will throw light around like the lightworker that you are. It will be stunning.

Compassion. You will be that. You will smell other people’s suffering. And you will consciously decide how to respond. Sometimes you will lay your light all over them, ceaselessly and committed. Other times, you will keep your wisdom quiet, step aside and let it unfold. All compassion.

Your sense of time will morph, considerably. You may exist in the paradox of peaceful urgency. You will know that you have all the time in the world, but…NOW. Let’s make it happen NOW! And this is what happens when you fall in love with a new person, romantic or otherwise; or a new cause, or, best yet, The New True You: real love makes time holographic. A year in a day. A day in an hour. You will enter the zone of no regrets.

You will be mindfully grateful. You won’t necessarily be grateful for the shit that went down, but you’ll be immensely grateful for all that you learned from it.

There will be a Before & After delineation. “Before the death, the crisis, the break, the break up, the break through. Before the revelation, the birth, the Truth.”

Not much is going to scare you. Because you got through THAT. And you did all that it took to get through THAT. You’ll be decisively flexible. You won’t bend for just any cause now. In fact, your boundaries are going to be damn firm. But when you flex, when you melt…watch out. With all the inflammation gone from your being you will have full range of mobility in your Soul. You’re going to really dance when you dance.

You’re going to know more about what Love is. Very specifically, Self love. And you are going to amaze yourself. And we will recognize you by your light. -Danielle LaPorte


Photo by JMPerez Photography

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Transformation 

I get so much JOY from walking down Sunset Boulevard to the farmers market to get my fridge sexy. Late Saturday morning. Sunshine on my skin. Headphones on. I can’t help and walk hand-in-hand with my MUSIC. We’re so in LOVE. Not one not two but three butterflies danced around me. Transformation. Fear is only created in my mind. I don’t care what they say, people in LA will smile and say hello if you allow it. Connection. Dream and plan. NEXT LEVEL. Every day steps. Four butterflies! Perspective is everything. How do you flip the script to be the truth? Exude it in your conversations, interactions, essence, energy, and your song. The tones I sang resonated richly, delicious round and SENSUOUS in my mouth. Take a bite out of the sonic happiness. I just want to elevate you to that world where all is right and even if it’s not right, you have faith it will be. It’s not escape, it’s exultation. Five butterflies! Heaven and hell, what we create here on Earth within us. How do you define love? I don’t know but I know I fucking love him. Yoga in nature. Discussion with a goddess. She breaks down the concept of atonement. At-one-ment. We’re all one. Separation an illusion. What we do to others we did ourselves. Let’s forgive ourselves. You think that it’s someone else. It’s really you. Where you not giving love to the situation? All blame is a waste of time. Letting go. Freedom. Acceptance. I declare publicly I will now only learn lessons with ease and grace. New beginnings. I was broken and rebuild myself with the bricks of light. Solid, weightless, luminous.

 

miracle

Looked in the mirror today. Not like I usually do. I looked deeper. I forgot that I was beautiful. I miss the way u used to look at me. U drank me in. I felt like a queen. U took your time. Bobby Womack would’ve been proud. I light candles with prayers that your words and actions will dance a dance that would make my abuela proud. I have given everything. Destroyed and created universes. My heart has learned to replenish itself with cloaks of faith that bleed out indifference. A birthday card from a year and a half ago, in the drawer beside my bed…wonder if well have that sexcation. I have revirginized myself for you. U used to clown men who don’t put in WORK and now you’re collecting unemployment checks. I have placed myself on your alter time and time again. I have done everything in the power of my minds eye. I have changed my thermostat to happiness only please. I read to expand. I own my shit. I know my flaws. I work to grow this garden of mine. This garden of magnificent dreams. Dreams that you have helped design. I have diminished my shine unwillingly. I still see u. Beneath the layers of this. I have developed super hero powers to see thru the walls you’ve put between us. Ive cut through the jungle of our past with a razor sharp machete only to come face to face with a ghost of nonchalance. I’ve painted my skin every color of gold at the chance that you would engulf yourself in me once again. antique with cracks. Vibrant as the summer sun yet you seem to be more intrigued by winter. Maybe its cause of your 90s jacket that you love to wear. I’ve lost my mind. I’m going to let Salem Moqueca put a leash on me and walk me around the park. I want to bury myself in the sands of time and awaken reborn into to a world where you show me the LOVE that I know is within you. Bliss permeating every cell. Remember that? Conversations must be had with rainbows in our mouths, COURAGE IN OUR HEARTS, and ruby encrusted shoes. There’s no place like home. My hearts a gypsy but not by choice, knocking at your door, looking for an open room for for rest, for peace, for acceptance, for solidity, for nourishment. Suffering from malnutrition but it still beats strong. Another continent, 3 times zones, and 4 days without your voice yet that’s still not enough…….. space. Thought of moving to another galaxy, maybe that would suffice. I ask if you miss me. That upsets u! U feel pressure from me being on the love tip. Yet you say you love me. That you have never loved a woman as much as you love me. Should I be silent? Should I keep it surface? Should I dim the truth of who I am!? A soul, a woman who expresses and needs love as I do air and music and dance and laughter and freedom and joy. I’m singing your song and I can’t find the pocket. No matter how hard I try. You keep switching up the time on me. There’s no metronome to meet this madness. We need a miracle. Only God can heal this.

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A Love Story. Part 2.

She kept his side of the bed open as if he might return. Made coffee every morning just as he instructed. Strong / solid / delicious. Enough for two. Listen for the change of pitch in the grinder. 2 teaspoons of ground coffee per cup in the french press. a tiny bit of coconut oil. 2 and half teaspoons of coconut sugar per cup… She dreamt of him. Cried for him. Coated her love for him in hatred. Drunk or praying, acting a fool or lighting candles. Went to 3 healers, 1 psychic, started A Course in Miracles, kundalini on Mondays. Singing would make the pain fade, transmute from gray to gold, to black then blue. Music her savior. How high is too high for an energetic fence? He wanted to build a fortress around her. To protect or to own?  Yet he wouldn’t claim what was his. He called her his queen but for his queen he would not fight. She doubted her worth only to find it again only to doubt it again. A shadow of a once phenomenal woman. Though she’s lost, she’s more than what they know. Multifaceted feminine energy. Complex nuances devoured mindlessly. Vulnerability. Cut wide open.  Even friends can claim you as pray in a tender moment. STOP.  He apologized later. Doesn’t make it right. It’s a shame you cannot unfuck someone. Then there was a sweetheart, teddy bear made her smile when she was drowning. Should’ve kept it on the homie tip just riding bikes and laughing, doing karaoke. It was just so nice to have someone CLAIM her, be proud of her, want to be around her all the time. But nothing healed the ache. Nothing would erase him. If it weren’t for the Earth angels/ sisters/ girlfriends / heroes she might never have gotten up off the floor.. I feel ill. This has gotten ugly. I can’t blot out the things you’ve said. Your lenses don’t allow you to see my light. Partner or servant? Why do you withhold? Made to feel less than… I’m your whore that you no longer engage. Eternal rejection. I’m put on pause until it’s convenient for you to acknowledge. This is no life. This is not the love I dreamed of.

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