The Path to a Healing Heart

this morning. 3 full grown all in different placements but she knew I would find them and so they were slightly mashed had zero worms warm to touch in spite of thoughts of barren seasons a smattering did appear - ripe and exquisitely sweet.

One of the routes of trauma – not roots mind you – but routes This is a branch that leads to and from the genes – is one of poison, i.e. toxic streams of baseless hatred transferred down the generational highways, coursing through bloodstreams and arteries and creating who we have become. This toxic stream is derived from the liver, spleen (through the heart like a poison arrow) and up to the brain in a blended Mix of hormones that renders all that it meets on its way corroded, weak And imploded – not unlike sulfuric acid. It is bile – and it travels through blood, filtered down from purity into toxic sludge, from inception together with milk of my mother. She unaware has passed this to her children – and like clones, the generations have become carriers of this waterway of poison. It is a black brownish mackish thick, not unlike tar, though thinner in consistency and able To seep into crevices and the lower places without any interference. It is a coarse, non reflective Panic and ...

Part 10 1. Three are the mothers (forces); three forefathers come from them: Air, water and fire. Their offspring are the seven planets and their hosts, and twelve are diagonal ribs. 2. Three are the mothers (forces): Air, water and fire. Fire above, water below and air is the decree that decides between them. A sign of this is that fire upholds water. 3. The world is like a king on his throne. The cycle in the year is like a king in the province. The heart in the soul is like a king in battle. 4. One opposite the other was made by the Creator: Good opposite evil, evil opposite good, good from good, evil from evil. Good recognizes evil, and evil recognizes good. Good is kept for the good, and evil is kept for the wicked. 5. Three: Each one stands alone. One defends, one accuses and one decides between them. Seven: Three opposite three, with a decree deciding between them. Twelve stand in war: Three who love, three who hate, three who give life, and three who kill. The t...

Aura the embroynic envelopments surrounding the bodies when all is calm like the glassy seas and lakes, the vapors are soft shining oval and smooth. When trauma infiltrates into the core system, a tear in the protective membrane occurs, causing leaking of the energetic field which then solidifies in a rigid pattern - spiked and jagged almost like the edges of a chain saw or porcupine, rendering it dangerous on both ends - the giver and the receiver. It also creates a porous gateway with millions of entry ways where a smooth surface cohesive would be unified in protection. It makes for clumsiness as all 6 directions can be uneven, especially where left and right are concerned; imbalances, catching on things, people and picking up all atmospheric energies because these prickly edges also act as sensors in a magnified way - antennas come to mind. This is why many who are engulfed in trauma seek solitude and nature - as there is nothing to catch on to, interfere with or pick up that would...

I don’t think much about my situation - because if I dwell on it I will just get increasingly depressed. There is a lot to dwell on – from my health to my cats to the apartment to income to having evil eye spells cast on me to moving back to America to staying and the reasons why. And on into the bigger picture. So I totally numb out for hours and hours lying in bed going from one website to the next and deciphering and analyzing people, situations and outcomes. My university of psychology and assessment. It's intensely stifling hot in this place and this is compounded physically by the fact that walking now is impeded with my spinal issues and now it appears that the foot I broke last year hasn't healed properly and I will have to either be broken again and set propely or else something else like weights to get it to settle in. When it was broken last year I had to move around – fending for myself when the rocks and the dynamite was being thrown at me and just to go to the ba...

I dreamt I was fighting with a transient for my brown bag that contained all my documents, i.e. ID. Not the first time I've dreamt about my ID being lost or stolen. I won the fight to the bloody end. Then in another episode in the dream I decked Joan Collins who wore white. Yes. The things dreams are made of. All apologies to Joan for the scuffle.

There was a moment in the checkout aisle that I stopped. I just stopped - it all - pleasing, wanting to fit, trying to appease. The whole nine yards. And it's not like I am starting from ground zero in a fit of codependency either. This is years and years of preparation of refusal to cave to the consensus. My spine, the nemesis, dictator of all movement and travel chimed in with its all-knowing stance of *how much more of this utter BS will you endure, for heaven's sake*? And the drugged slow movements of the consensus players just drove it home for me - and that is - enough. Every single time that I venture out to do whatever it is I must do - in this case pay my rent and then round it up with some food for the Sabbath - there is a crisis. I am picking up energy all around me and no doubt putting it out - and I am dressed like the eccentric that I am in the midst of *Plastic La La Land of the Oppressed* everyone with either peroxide blonde tit showmanship or empty porn addled ...

The fig tree has signaled to me That she will not be bearing any edible fruit. Period. Not this year. Not next or anytime in the future. I stopped asking why a long time ago, when nature indicated that sometimes you just gotta accept things as they are without asking too many questions. The yield of this season has been thousands upon thousands of miniature figlettes cast down to the ground since May till now without one big enough or ripe enough to call even fruit. These are aborted attempts at fruiting. The leaves too are crisped, alien-like and yellowed On the sparce branches and in fallowed heaps. Just another indication of the neglect over the years of this property and atmosphere in general. Barren. The pomegrantes too are not reaching their full bloom exploding before their time in an act of suicide. Tiny red and white immature seeds exposed through the cracks like colorful Chinese lanterns hung and smashed. And the olives, still standing over the ages and sages but a closer loo...

Tallying up my life at this crossroads. Successes and failures, maybe gauge some absolutes from seeing it in print - and here it is Dropped out of school at the age 13 never to return. Divorced at age 21 - still haven't remarried almost 30 years later. Have never held a *job* more than 1 year at a time. Though have had many. Have trouble completing any project, business, goal. Do not own a home. Have issues with sensory integration - too much volume or not enough. Have been in solitary confinement now for almost 40 years. Give or take necessity gleaning. Strengths seem to lie specifically in seeing the bigger picture and connecting with nature. Weaknesses seem to lie specifically in regulation of emotion, thought and action. Give well, don't receive very well. Get under people's skin, don't understand the mechanism or reason why. Coasting, numbing out, rising above this level of consciousness to either no man's land or spatial galaxies - travel mode. Prefer the ston...

Sorting through the Bag filled with remnants of my life Through Israel, Brooklyn, Woodstock and back to Israel again. Tripping through sand dunes and woodlands Piecing together the fragments of roots, wings and spines. Maybe I have roots and wings - it’s just the spine that can’t carry. Or maybe like my pathetic and dying garden – cursed by the elements. Either not enough water or too much fertilizer – or just the air has been hostile, though my feeling is that it is the soil. Compact. Too dense. Too too. Old pattern of extremes. In all my travelings – too much – too little- too late and too early. The ever present regulators not functioning. Being in overdrive. In sorting through finding loose ends and connections to where I come from. In gratitude to my great-aunt in Florida who sent me the Family Tree. Lots of name changings along with creativity and beauty – along with the proverbial tragedies in all their manifestations. Manifestos and photos. A reminder here of how imploded ...

How wonderful to be in the position of being able to read the climate, the disposition and the motivation of the other. In this ability - going deep - deeper than any psychologist could ever fathom - reading souls - maybe - I've been wary - ever so - from the feedback -from the backlash from just being identified and sought after - limelight no thanks. Just presenting whatever it is that I can muster up and offer in this mumble jumble guessing game that all seem to be caught up in. And everyone IS guessing. Listen up because I won't be repeating this. And as always you can quote me - just make sure you have the name right You position an idol in front of you, and that was only a man only. Not a god, not an entity, not a prophet - just a simple soul with some extra sparks. Thank you very much. On to the other - the mother. The mother is Jewish - she is connecting now to her roots - and in many years of introspection especially in the realm of her own adoption and the disconnect ...

Born into chaos - into shards thorns and broken promises Into hatred, submission, pain The journey back is the journey Home is the Healer's Walk That's what I've conjured up in these last few days. On the verge of tears every few minutes. Michael, the world, me, air, my cats, my mother - life. Everything just tied up into a bundle of fatigue and wanting to know more but getting busy signals or *return to sender*. And then there is a figurine that keeps on popping up here and there like an icon - a black figurine - outline of a man. A shrouded man, a distant man, an outline. All over I am seeing this in many variations. but the Da Vinci stance the most common. But I digress from what's been churning over in my mind - and that is the severely abused are actually the supreme healers of the age. But the trick is to actually come out through the other side, through the spiral, through the elements, through the facade and veil and shadows and chasms. Through it all - must eme...

Nature, love and retreating Seeking solace and forgiveness Red hands, inked in echos from way back when the soul was just starting out clean slate the robbers took what they did and we spent our whole lives getting over it with music forgetting and nature abetting, water wetting and open spaces letting. I knew you from the shy indirect no eye contact glance glazed over like black roses under glass pained the sneak look away too intense to keep steady or to have scrutiny plummet through the truth of you. Common ground the distance between us and them, the gift of gentle spirit, the rough patch of being too trusting, naivete to a bloody pulp fault and hands clenched when open palms would have sufficed, and vice versa when clout was called for. Raw it was a life hammered out gold and purple, there was never enough and always too much never feeling full enough but always overflowing and many times flooded My storms carried me through the East Yours through valleys of the West I'd peer...

Everything is karma. All that comes to me in doses of pain all that is gifted in rites of receiving all that is meted out in cascades of suffering karma. All of it. My garden, so ambitious to plants, give life in a barren state of mind and being - just a reprieve please with some green, each day though I return to the scene of green with more heartbreak. All my efforts in vain. What gives. Earth? Water? Or man? Today I creep into the backyard see the piece of plastic I had attached to keep prying eyes and feet out - blown down, slightly crushed, my eyes wander into what is left of the gasping plants and see that someone had pinched off the bell flowers that bloom only once a year from a succulent. Pinched off. The bells just drying dying in the cracked soil. A leaf from another plant high hitched torn off. Small noticings - detective I am - this, that, odd things moved. I know - I feel Things are not right. Hearts so tainted. So callous. So hating. People without agendas except to caus...