why words (r) matter part 2

why words (r) matter

while words (r) matter goes audio-visual, there is still the matter of licensing rights.

please don't tell the rock stars.

smooth feet, reckless words and rippin' bass lines

My favorite mystic came bearing gifts of quinoa and cacao. He channeled cosmic wisdom from the council of sacred alchemists by way of my big toe, told me my callouses were holding denial, and instructed me to get a pedicure. Immediately.

With my feet lookin' so fly, a night out and about with a handsome gentleman seemed about right.

His jacket was Watanabe, his bottom lip swollen from a morning collision with a bee's butt, and his languaging harsh and jagged. He called celibacy lame and spiritual men pussies. And while his words were reckless, I'm not clear that they were an accurate reflection of the energy infusing them; and I wondered how many people I brush off, discount or cast aside because of the words they use, words they semi-consciously choose, words they likely don't pay enough attention to.

We listened to a jumpin' jazz trio, dropped in on an Echo Park dinner party riddled with gluten and art-talk, and ended up at Pho, squinting beneath the glare of halogen horror over steaming bowls of rice noodles.

What is your biggest perceived obstacle?

He didn't ask much, but he asked...hmmm...interesting? hard? deep?

(yes, kind of, no)

I appreciated "perceived," and still...

I don't perceive obstacles, I said; and named a few things I'm currently shifting into: ease and grace, and a softer, more feminine me.

The words were plenty and half-hearted and circuitous; and the vibrations out of sync. I returned home, unclear as to the lessons embedded in the evening, utterly thrilled to cozy back up to my bass guitar.

as quickly as it began...

i met k briefly at a gallery opening before talking with him at the boogie down dancing queen's "leos, leos, everywhere leos" birthday party friday night. we spoke about the rift between men and women here in los angeles, and our friend's sometimes tendency to speak so softly that it's difficult to hear her. i told him i'd read a book about energy bodies that explains low-talking as a specific personality type.

i received a message from him immediately upon accepting his facebook friend request saturday afternoon. the following exchange took place in about five minutes:

"voice"

k: So...what did Healing Hands say about low talkers?

d: it's an unconscious (subconscious?) manipulation to pull the other closer (energetically/physically) so that they can cord in to your third chakra.

make sense?

k: I don't know what the 3rd chakra is, but I have a friend who has espoused a similar theory and I always resisted it. Maybe it feels too devious to me.

d: it's unconscious.

devious is a judgment. it's manipulative. we all have similar issues on various levels.

it merely is.

k: i hate you.

on forgetting...

when i forget to remember to pretend that i'm small and limited and that i don't know, my world explodes open in great, big bursts of electric, ecstatic, synchronistic yes, and suddenly i'm moving mountains and manifesting magic, and i'm smack dab in the middle of my biggest, brightest dreams come true.

as this eclipsing moon ripens...

words, words, everywhere words.

i'm trying to let go.

i want to be more courageous.

we tack on extraneous words that push our intentions farther and farther away.

let's close the gap.

literally.

let go.

be courageous.

let's shorten the distance. let's annihilate the space between our dreams and our reality, our potential and our actualization.

time is a lie. nothing is going to happen in the future that isn't already happening now.

let our words reflect the magic of this moment, and all that we want it to be, which it already is.