Seasonal Shifts

On Thursday last week, we had a very hot day.  As a result, there were bodies at the beach everywhere.  People seem to come out in droves when all is well and bask in the glories of beauty and nature’s bounty.  The sky was clear blue (not a single cloud), the water the most beautiful clear shades of green and blue and the temperature was scorching.  This is considered a ‘good or perfect’ day and as such, people from all over the city, clamour for their parcel of sand and sea while the boats mine the waters for her abundant treasure.  We enjoy the light and feel good vibes.

Just a day later, the weather had turned.  It was grey, windy and cold.  Sand ribbons were whipping down the beach, with wind churning up the surface into whipped peaks. The shallows were cloudy, washing and rolling debris through its void and the deep waters were dark and still sandy recesses in which life took sanctuary.  The day was blustery, difficult and turbulent and there was not a soul in sight. I was left alone on that magnificent beach with both the mother and my own nature.

.

I was struck by the dramatic contrast.  How we tend towards certain experiences and withdraw from others.

Our world has such a narrow bandwidth of acceptable expression, experiences and values.  I am also guilty of neglecting or rejecting certain behaviours, but they tend to differ from the commonly accepted norms.  I am accused often of having low emotional tolerance or resilience and that I am very reactive.  And in part this is true.

The difficulties I can’t tolerate seem to be the sparkles on the surface of societies seas and revolve around people undermining others, overt aggression, diminishing or restricting another person’s opportunities out of jealousy, insecurity or fear and malicious intent through gossip.  I rage against these.

Yet curiously, the behaviours that I comfortably swim in, which others often drown are emotional and mental complexity, life/death situations, chaos, intensity and obscurity etc.  Extreme situations, I seem to handle better than most, and as a result will often go in to bat for others who are not coping in these deep murky waters. 

.

I have been reflecting through journals and facebook feeds on how I used to project myself into the world – a time when things were ‘easier’.  And what I see is that on the surface and on good days, was a carefully crafted sunny, hopeful and helpful persona but often within I was lonely, hurt and turbulent.  These grey days I would rarely show, as I understood, people don’t like to visit the beach on those days. 

Whatever caused my life to unravel, it has removed this veneer and all that was hidden has bubbled to the surface.  There is no hiding my true nature anymore and many are finding it unlikeable.  I sometimes feel so raw, exposed and realise that my way in the world now is confronting, difficult for others and demanding yet I am incapable of covering, pretending or hiding who I really am. 

As a result, within my skin and the walls of my safe haven, I am deeply self accepting.  I am finding a love for myself, a peace and gentleness that arises from within. For one reason or another, I am incapable of rendering the walls of my life with artifice and shellac the surface into a glossy veneer, instead now the drapes match the carpet!  I am just me – inside and out.

There is pretty, there is ugly, there is harmony and there is discord and it is honestly presented in any given moment.  It is quite something to live this way but find that I need and am given much more space. I actually don’t mind being unlikable – because I like myself more than ever.

The sex industry used to be my go-to.  A place where I enjoyed exploring my sexuality along with my innate desire to connect and contribute to the world around me – albeit it the world behind closed doors, hidden desires and tantalising taboos.  But these inner changes within me are expressing in ruthless ways here and so I am incubating the next incarnation.

I had a couple of clients who I have seen over a period of many years and they got in touch when I exhumed Dita.  I began seeing them, but I was different.  Not just the fact that I was older, fatter and more observant but there was some sort of resonance that I was omitting which wasn’t working.  Dita was dead but who remained, neither myself or my clients could identify.

Whoever she is, ‘She’ is ruthlessly honest, unrelenting in her desire to stay present and ‘work’ with sexuality not just poke it and ride the wave.  She calls out dishonesty, ignorance, arrogance and petty patterns that emerge as a form of manipulation (often clients play games with money, time or dynamics as a way to regain some form of control…none of which she allows).  And so, this emerging goddess is more like Durga who will cut your head off, step on your ego and laugh at your meager attempts at mastery, as she is only interested in that divine spark.  That slow delicious burn which eroticism stokes and feeds into the flames of luminous transformation.

I adore sexual play – I’m good at it.  But I am fluid, I am everything and can’t seem to abide the small narrow shells we inhabit.  I want to cast off the weight of fear which can lead to clients consuming intoxicants prior to seeing me or jerking off as a way to manage their energy, hiding who they are from themselves or me (like the priest who used to want to save me!), or only getting turned on by certain positions, behaviours and routines.  I cannot stomach or abide clients or lovers who are yoked by their limitations of sexual self-identity nor put perimeters around mine.  She is every weather pattern – some like a sunshiny day and others a ferocious thunder storm.

.

The problem is that I was loved.  For a briefest of moments, in the land of illusion but with a resulting cataclysmic earthquake.  Another human really saw me – he really looked.  He held space for me to open into my-self and be received by the eyes of goodwill, kindness, encouragement and love.  As a result, I continued to blossom and flower in ways I never knew possible.  I was loved, I became love and I loved in return – he is the mate for my soul. The environment of love, its loss and trying to make my way out the other side alone is every shade of humanity I could have ever hoped for!

I don’t need polite, nice weather.  I am okay with a face smashed full of ocean. Some days I marvel at the perfection and others at the destruction.  Mostly, I just want to be touched by this life and so, I am ravaged.

I am human and I am swimming each day in its wonders.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s