December

A shift has happened.  Life is opening up.  Brain rewiring finally progressing.

Am I an Ass?

I just asked my dog Lucy if it was hard to be my dog, or did she realize that she was sitting in the midst of greatness?

Letting Hurt Go

Letting Hurt Go seems to be the deepest pain.  I don't want to, I don't, I don't, I don't- fists slamming over and over into the grass and dirt on t he hillside.  My strength is my weakness-  that is the theme.  My strength is my weakness-  Defense stifles and doesn't let go- it protects with vigor and delightful tension....My strength is my weakness.

Warrior

My brothers and I took a pact.  The pact to be Warriors of Humanity.  We agreed that we must challenge the Warriors of Survival and fight to our death. 

Defense

My most prominent feature.  I am full of it, have it oozing from several pores and orifices.  I hear from a filter of blame, judgment, set-up, topple, destroy, punches coming at me and through me.  Underlying Intents, battles, wars, rages, injustice, vengeance, despair.  No wonder the exterior won't change.

Anger

Anger consumes me- it takes over.  Choking me and I don't resist.  I like it, I feel alive, ready to go-  the only time I feel as if I have an effect or am productive.  If I scream out loud, I might not stop. 

October 4th

In 2002, I walked into the gym and began the systematic process of killing myself off.  Actually killing the part of me actually killing myself off.
I dove in heart and soul-- I always do.  I ache to let my creativity and passion out and I stifle it constantly.  I watch others go through the same process, it is our culture, our right to be American.  I understand the heritage of "trying to get away from something"  It is what we were founded on.  It is honorable and our ancestors were doing the best they could and pushing limitations.  I decided in 2002 to honor their quest by joining one myself. 

talking to?

I finally put it all out there and was shocked at the reception.  Nothing really, just listening and I envisioned a shake of the head on the other end of the line.  Strange all these years I've wanted the great revenge, the dramatic walk the plank- but that didn't happen- just a simple pattern of listening and knowing.  Shock lurked beneath the veneer of pleasant conversation.  Borrowing a term from CK, Incestry...my Incestry was spoken heard and not defended.  I fell over due to the anticipation...I love the ring for its exposure.
I put the punch way out there, and they found their back and a way to let me in.

Gone Fishin

Been away for a bit.  These perception shifts are hard on me...taking me to the edge screaming and crying.  Fists pounding to a frantic, stop it beat.  My head hurts, don't know where I am, must blame someone, anyone, there must be hell to pay.  It eases up, the picture gets a little clearer...not as bad as I originally thought.  Ready to go round again. 

Away

I got away from all this.  I quit and started and quit and started again.  My family a source of pain and joy, aren't all like that?  Finally I got to tell someone, he did this, yes, he did.  His inappropriate comments, they aren't just benign.  They happen over and over again and he thinks it is normal.  My body was a vessel, his an instrument with a painful entry that has lasted 40 years.  Truths coming out and breathing big at the surface....tears well up stopping me from going deeper.  Resistance my cross I have bared for years, yielding the cross I now bare, bear, bare..........which is it?  My dog sleeps peaceful, she knows, she feels, she protects and yields in ways I envy.  Separate and alone by choice, just one moment, one perception shift could move it all to a completely different realm.  My thoughts, black and white becoming conceptual.  I want to feel like someone is holding my hand, stroking my hair-  abandonment gone, abandonment here.

Roots

Root canal, back to Italian roots, at the root of it all, going to the core and digging up the roots. 

You know?

My mother, she is this concept.  I think she is beautiful and amazing and sad and I don't know her, but I desperately want to.  I am 40 feeling like I'm 3.  Wanting to lay my head on her lap, to feel the stroke of her hand in my hair, but I am 40.  Really, 40. 

Money

Lack as a Driving Force:  Going back to the past to Dial Up my experience, charge the body and feel what is there.  Rewrite the story to change the present and affect the future.

Exhausted

Training is never what you expect, the Match isn't either.

2011

The official Title Match has begun.  It is a 50+ rounder that will take a year.  The training involves daily Perception changing statements, feeling at levels never reached before, a whole lotta Skill to stay present and a desire to go into the unknown.  Here I go, touch gloves......................

can't sleep

Skeptical, tired eyed.  Lying in bed wondering where all of this goes.  What direction to take, which doors to open versus keep closed.  Do I have to open them all?  My body changes, betrayal taking a backseat, windows, opportunities open and shut.

Monday

Saturday morning-  the breakthrough happened.  A call from a long lost brother, my mother's number.  I have been searching for her for the past 6 years....I have only seen her 5 times in my 40 year span.  Conflictual stories of being pushed out versus abandonment.  I can't believe it is finally here, sometimes I am reduced to 4 years old in a single sentence.  Longing, pushing away, begging, protecting, an endless cycle dancing around the fire.
  It is Monday and there is work to be done.

Estranged

22 years since I've seen or heard from the boy.  I don't really know him but the familiarity is there. Family is a complicated web of interactions...let's see what happens the next 22 years

What a day

Out of sorts, something new, something old, not sure what I am doing or where I am headed.  What to do with the spinning thoughts and chaotic rhythm?  Keep moving, throwing punches, don't care if they land or not....just throw, throw, throw and keep my eyes open, hands up and chin down.  Out of sorts, but only til I find my back, my feet, my power, my punch.

PAWN

I am a pawn.  Sometimes black and sometimes white.  Never do I have a choice.  My color is always selected and determined by his forefinger and thumb.  I sit upon my felt bottom waiting to be told what to do.  He teases the nub on my head, twirling and twisting me in disorienting directions.  I tilt, I sway, but only when prodded to do so.  He teases me with false moves, making me expectant and jerking me back to sit and wait.  He covers my eyes so I cannot see what he is thinking, but I can feel it through the energy in his fingertips.  I am bound to his touch and he to my obedience.  I am a pawn.