Sacred Sex, connections with former abuse

It's been a while since I've written a blog.
Sometimes I don't have the feeling that I should, but as this feeling assails me I feel that it is necessary. There is something here... that perhaps someone somewhere could use.
So, foremost, survivors of sexual crimes display different characteristics as result. Some shut down and become insensitive to their actions, especially in regards to sex. Others become hyper aware and perhaps sometimes, hyper emotional. Sometimes these are all mixed together...
Let me make a clear statement here. I am no psychologist. I am not a licensed medical anything. All that I know comes from experience. Comes from those I've met, and shared time with. I honor them, in spite of everything, we are all sisters and brothers in a common bond. I don't speak of tragedy. I speak of knowing.
We knew too much at too young ages.
We hid and some continue to hide, in corners from a perceived fear that is as real to us as a knife to the throat.
Some have a long journey toward healing that will take many years to conquer. Others? Others may never heal, though I pray that they find the strength. Love... is an elusive thing. Something we crave from others because we mostly can't give it to ourselves. Unless of course we are at that stage of healing which we can find something in our damaged spirits to love.
I've been pushed away. In many forms. I thought for a while it was mostly my fault. Perhaps my presence is uncomfortable. Maybe my heart loves to much or I am suffocating. Truth? I am reacting, most cases, like a healthy adult. Those who push me away, however, are not quite at that level. They... can't see what is in front of them because they don't want to. It's too much. Too much of a change, too much of a risk. They are stuck in places where they need a hand but refuse to take it. They trust no one. I have been hurt because I have trusted where I was not trusted.
Strange, someone like me can trust, but I've always had faith. I believe there is good. Such good in the world, if we all hold onto the last bits of it and allow it to glow, we can touch candles together and create a bonfire.
Faith is wasted on the trust-less.
So, anyway, sex. What does it mean to those who find no meaning? It's a release of sorts, a dumping ground for emotion. I realize that now. Sex for many is a way to get out frustrations, fears and anger. It's taken to a base level. It's taken to an animistic level. So then it becomes tainted.
Never fear, this too can be healed. This I believe and you must too. To heal it you must go within, find that place that perceives the other person. See them, and only touch them when you see them. Respect them as a soul, and do not be with them unless they see and respect you as a soul. Then... well then it becomes something better, and can be worked toward something more.
It seems so simple right? For those who suffer from the past, this can seem impossible. My solution then is to look at yourself in the mirror. Really look. Imagine you were the one you plan to touch. Would YOU want to  be touched by you? Are you capable of keeping your dumping at bay and instead, share a beautiful feeling? In this comes healing. If you find yourself incapable then please, abstain. Especially if you are attracted to women. We women drink up sexual energy like nobody's business, and that is why we are so individual in our sexual activity. Don't run the chalice full with your mess. Be cautious, and only be with someone you actually care about. Someone you could see yourself loving.
That is responsible and it is good for you.
Be blessed.

Overcoming

It is my experience that the nature of prejudice is stemmed from ignorance. I admit, that as a woman from a multiracial background I have historically found personal offense to all forms of prejudice or racism. It is only through education that I have learned to put aside my anger and resentment in order to make an effort toward positive change. In this case, educating the less enlightened has become my calling. It isn’t easy as some bigotry cannot be conquered in the hearts of others. That requires a willingness to learn, which is an active decision for both parties involved. An example I give of my personal experience involves a discussion in the classroom when I was attending junior college.

It started in this way. We were discussing the reasoning behind affirmative action in a government class. I saw through the corner of my eye a young man who raised his hand and stated the following words “I don’t see why we even have it, slavery happened so long ago. It has nothing to do with me”. I confess my personal irritation rose like a fire inside my chest, but I knew better than to respond with anger. It is far better to respond with calm logic and reasoning. So I raised my hand and responded calmly. This is what I said “if you take a people from their home to lands they know nothing about, then refuse to educate them beyond basic language functions, you are crippling them. Then, if you then continue with three hundred years of lesser educational opportunities, lack of qualifying textbooks, and racial segregation designed in favor of the other what you have then is generations of people who were purposefully held back from society.  Affirmative action is designed to even the playing field and while some people complain that it takes positions from other qualifying students, it is nothing compared to hundreds of years of having education flat out denied”. What followed was a discussion where it was revealed that there are still some resentments that time has not healed. The class came to the conclusion that even though slavery and the civil rights movement happened before many of us were born it was still relevant history. We are still overcoming former failings not as white, black, Native American or Hispanic people, but as a nation of people wanting to see change for the better.

Perhaps my way in combating prejudice is not all that creative. My way is simple. I consider where would be oppressor’s anger or ignorance is stemming from. Is it lack of knowledge or a personal feeling of hurt, inadequacy or failure? I choose to respond with less anger and rely on my reasoning. At times I get no headway with that individual, but I do tend to win the agreements of others. It is not so important to change the minds of a select few who cannot look past their personal feelings in order to see a bigger picture. It is more important to prevent the corrupting of minds by instilling a strong respect for the diversity of this world through education. In short it is important to lead by example. If I provide an ‘other’, then I can’t be classified into one role or space. An intelligent person is then challenged to think that if there is an other than ‘what if?’ If I have inspired that, then I consider it a win. 

In the feels

sin¹

sin/

noun

1. 1.

   an immoral act considered to be a transgression against divine law.
   
   
2. My greatest sin is not allowing myself to sin...
   Mental illness, used to be treated like a hapless, cursed disease. The wilder a person is, the more wretched they become. Depression? I am not sure most even believe it still exists. Maya Angelou wrote in her book, "I know why the caged bird Sings" that she was referred to often as 'tender hearted'. Having a soft, malleable soul is like an affliction. So perhaps it is aptly put. 
   I am easily moved by the suffering of others. 
   Isn't that a thing? Sorrow seems so out of the proper element of things. Misery and pain. I cannot help but to feel moved by the suffering of another. So much so that I have forced myself to become numb. 
   The Dali Lama said "happiness is the natural state of human existence". Not in those exact words but, if we are meant to be happy then all things that makes us sad is unnatural to our normal way of flowing being. We are SUPPOSED to be in a constant state of happiness. According to this thought, but because we are moved by external elements, we cannot escape the tendency to sway toward misery. Yet, we continue to seek out the joys in life in hopes of combating with the sorrows. 
   
   I was coming to the third grade when I first thought of dying. I thought of it as, a blissful relief from the elements I could not control around me. 
   How she raged, my mother. With the passion of a person who is mentally ill. With the hurt of a person who was deeply wronged. As she raged, I became contained, shrinking under the tempest. Cowering in the storm. 
   As I passed from child to adolescence, I contented myself with the knowledge that someday, someday I could grow up and move off on my own. I could make a family that was not broken. I could mold the outcome... 
   I neglected to understand one valuable piece of knowledge. That is, you can move, you can change your name and even become a different person. This is normal to change. However what you can't do is erase the voices in your head permanently. 
   You must live with them. As they shaped you, you must then shape them. You must do this diligently so you can have those moments. Those precious moments where you are in a natural state of bliss. 
   

   tor·ture

   ˈtôrCHər/

   noun

   1. 1.

      the action or practice of inflicting severe pain on someone as a punishment or to force them to do or say something, or for the pleasure of the person inflicting the pain.

   I think it is time to say that enough is enough. I have tortured myself. Over and over. I have forced food into my body to try and hold off the pain. I have denied my body food to try and starve the pain. I've told myself my feelings are insignificant, that my suffering is not valid, thus, I did not give myself even the slightest acknowledgement.... I have not allowed myself to really feel. 
   Why? Because it makes people uncomfortable. Because I have cared for THEM more than me. Yet, it has only bought me alienation. It's done the exact opposite of what I wanted it to do. 
   

   love

   ləv/

   noun

   1. 1.

      an intense feeling of deep affection.

   I know what love is. It is not easily manipulated. It is not easily won or lost. Yet, this pithy definition is but the tip of it. 
   I've waited so patiently to be showed I am worth loving. You cannot convince a brick wall that it is alive. In this way, the old hurts, the past dramas and all the broken links are instances of times when I have willingly gone into that unnatural state of misery, in the hopes of finding something that I always had.
   Love...
   I have the love inside of me. For so many sometimes it seems it might burst from my chest and wash the world in pink and purple.
   It does not make me miserable. It makes me nostalgic. It makes me emotional.
   What makes me miserable is when the connection becomes lost and I do not see my love reflecting.
   But this is a problem that many have. In this age of misunderstanding. In this age of texts, phone calls and video chat. IN this age where contact is seldom and when it occurs it is so fleeting that it is more like butterfly wings brushing the hem of your shirt... I need a fucking hug. I need to lay in bed with an arm around me and fingers brushing my hair. I NEED to touch.
   I'll keep waiting patiently... 

Normalcy

I am not good at plain speech.
Unless of course, it's my novels. Then yes I can do it. Most of my personal ramblings are entirely too poetic. Entirely to... unreachable.
Maybe it's just how I am. When I try to convey the deep feeling within I am often left with music ringing in my ears.
Well hell ya'll I am a poet. I dream in lyrics.
This becomes a problem when trying to communicate.
How desperately I want to communicate. To share a little of myself with others. To be validated in the doing.
But why?
Why indeed?
I know why.
Because I have been silenced far to long. I am the weird and the confusing. I am the dreamwalker.
This now... this can be uncomfortable. I understand that. I strive to expect nothing from anyone. It is so much easier this way. So much easier to cover your glasses with mud instead of rose petals.
So damned depressing.
Ah... humanity! Humans... we are such animals.
I have dug too deep.
I just want to say that I have seen you. I have seen your words. I have felt your presence. I have found within these something worthy. Something valid.
I honestly don't hate anyone. Even those who have tried to silence me, tried to kill me.
I just want to be heard. I want to be seen. To be felt.
There I go dreaming again
------
She walks into the shadows. Where misty lights seem pinpoints in the distance. They are beacons. They call and she follows. She cannot help it.
There is a shivering that starts at the base of the spine and radiates out to the arms and legs. Freezing her fingers and toes. The icy feeling seeps into her bones. A sick, heavy feeling weights her chest. Yet she continues on. Constantly moving forward. Reaching out when she feels close enough, only to catch air.
Disillusionment...
Still, the promise of warmth drives her. Her hunger pushes her, each fumbling step to the next. Towards those pinpoints.
The last vestiges of hope.

Just something for healing self

All he secrets

All the magic

Lay shuttered up in your heart

Having stopped only

When you gave up on hope

That miracle that feeds the spirit

When darkness is high

And the wounded souls you reach out too

Reflect the light within

In ways that are horrific

And sad

But you lay down

You open yourself up

In the last remnants of hope

You offer yourself as sacrifice

In hopes of feeling that sweet moment

When everything makes sense once again

In hopes of returning

To that girl in the forest

Shining hair and glossy eyes

That beautiful memory

When life was pure

And tragedy, just a bad dream

You give up your body

Expose your inner sanctum

In hopes of receiving

Caresses most dear

Hands painted with love

Everlasting

 blessed sacrament

and when it is over 

and the sacrament has not happened

you cry from the hollow

the emptiness

which comes from the lack

and you pray for another chance

next time... maybe

next time

Love

Love which should be given

from you

to you

love most divine

wait then for your sacrament of flesh

wait and wonder

-Orhea the Dreamer 

Healing through words

I have a natural gift for healing, I've been told. Yet over time I have not truly embraced it. Why? Because scientifically, there is no basis for it. It is all belief, it is all spirit.
Last year, I picked up a book about medicine men/women, written by a Native American healer from the plains. He was Lakota of origin. He spoke of the trials and tribulations that lead a medicine person into the path of healing.
I read about his near death experiences, his bouts of sickness, his overcoming, and his visions. I began to understand that the path of a healer is a rocky, painful one and I didn't want it.
In the book, this medicine man also mentioned his desire to NOT become a healer. It's too hard. Too demanding, and too much relies on him... All of this I understand perfectly. All of this resonated so much that I put the book down and haven't opened it since.
I don't want the obligation, I don't want the responsibility of aiding the healing of others. It's too much, there is so much pain in this world, and what about my own pain? Whose going to help me with that?
Well now, in my path to education I've recently seriously considered going off to graduate school. Aiming higher.
Enter the reading.
I've attempted to contact psychics before with mixed results. However, I thought, what about trying once more? I submitted for a one question reading asking if I should even attempt to go to graduate school. I never thought I could, it is so expensive and I honestly didn't think I was smart enough.
A few days later, I received my voice recorded reading...
This lovely, soothing Australian voice told me that yes, I should apply to graduate school, at least three...and I would get accepted. This would be good for my long term career. And...did I know that I was such a gifted, natural healer?
"You have such a pure and gentle energy" she said..."You will help many women...for I see you work with women best. They will come to you for healing...You will find your own way to heal."
Indeed...
Just like that I am reminded of my drive to heal. My need to aid others. My horrid (and annoying) habit of taking responsibility and 'feeling' for others.
But what about my OWN pain?
No one acknowledges my own pain. Everyone has said I should just get over it...I need to 'man up'and move on.
Yeah...if it were that easy...if only.
1. I can be a selfish person.
2. I can be a self -less person.
3. I NEED
So...it's just occurred to me a method I wish to try to heal myself.
Healing through words...I've worked out problems by writing poetry...conundrums, feelings...
but what about studying the meaning of words and filling them with healing?
I'm going to give it a try.
Stay tuned.......

Even roses have thorns

I know what it is like to wake up alone and know that it is the best thing to be.
I don't know what makes us crave companionship so. To have a mate and to be wanted. It's a desire that drives folks to do things they know better than to do.
We do it anyway.
For a chance at a tender kiss. For the opportunity to be held. For the joy and comfort of knowing you're not in it alone.
   The truth is... you are. At any given time that person you hold on to can decide it's over and move on with their lives. You and your life will be alone again.
It is said that every person is made with a counterpart. A twin flame if you will. A soul mate. A soul mate is a person who is what you need them to be just as they are and you are what they need you to be. Together you work in sync, bringing each other to mutual joy, love, and spiritual fulfillment.
Ah I love the concept of soul mates!
I was infatuated the moment I heard of it, years ago. Yet could it be possible? Could somewhere out there be a perfect match for you, right now?
Yes
Yes indeed because there are billions of people in the world and I think making a soul is kind of like carving animal sculptures by hand. You'll have several the same size, some smaller or larger. You'll have some with markings that are closer to others.
Basically, no two are a hundred percent alike but there will be those that go better together than most.
Some people don't believe in soul mates. The idea sounds too perfect, and people grow so much through their lives. They change and become different.
I think that's where my animal sculpture comes in.
What if we have a few soul mates?  Those people who are what you need when you need them, until you don't need them anymore?
     Startling concept but couldn't it be possible? After all what happens if you meet a soul mate and that soul mate dies? It seems cruel to think that the one left behind is stuck mourning their beloved.
What happens when a soul mate relationship ceases to be a soul mate relationship? By this I mean that, it is very possible for a soul mate relationship to become sour, due to neglect or because one partner evolves past the other, or a great many possibilities.
Well then the purpose of that relationship is done and it is time to move along.
You know what? Lets just get rid of the term soul mate all together. Let us instead think about the possibility that we are all spiritual beings. As such we are constantly seeking improvement. What level of improvement that entails varies from being to being. However what I want to focus on is this.
We crave each other. To be fed spiritually,mentally, and even physically, by each other. We crave companionship and life partners. We do this because without these relationships life seems less shiny. Without these relationships our spirits tend to fall slack and yes we can keep up routines. Yes we can be perfectly happy with the status quo. But... are we learning?
We are born naked and alone. We will likely die alone too. Yet, it's not so depressing. As long as we lived, loved, and experienced life.

Damn though, the idea of soul mates just seems so darn appealing. So beautiful... but even the prettiest things can have thorns, like roses...