Sonic

The Writing Angel has been whispering in my ear so I'm back.  

Have been exploring some interesting healing modalities which I will have to write about. 

For today though in the spirit of the season upon us now I thought I would share another song.  

The words to this one came very fast and it was a lot of fun to write.  Definitely not about any "Twilight" creatures....

Sonic

Through the hair of his chest 

through the silk on her breast

she felt it- sonic.

Sonic- it takes her there,

to a place where she doesn't care.

Throw it all away on a dare.

Is it the vibration that carries her?

Is it his heartbeat that calls her here?

In a moonlit glare

teeth sharp, claws bared,

blood in her ears, in the air.

Sonic - she poured herself out in a scream, 

this is no dream, this is no fantasy.

She's broken the barrier

taken her boon.

Sonic, sonic, sonic at last,

sonic, sonic, sonic boom.

                                                          c.  Onyx Uriarte 2009

Path of innocence

The significance of meeting my Writing Angel on the Yonge car stays with me, so here I am. Thought that I would share a song I wrote this past year as it narrates an event involving a childhood friend.  As a child, this experience was overwhelming and in response I moved away from my centre a little bit more.  Writing is a way to come back to myself. 

  I am not a musician, but several of my writing pieces this past year have been songs. Sometimes melodies come to me with the words, sometimes they do not. The words to this piece came easy to me, but it was heart wrecking work to write. 

Garden Gate

She lost her innocence just past the garden gate.

In a screened in porch,

popcans and cookies artfully 

placed on a plate.

She was the lamb

who entered the shower.

Sat on his lap

taken to slaughter.

She was the one blamed for being such a loud mouth.

Smoking an cussing,

showing up late.

While I felt like a coward,

she lost her innocence just past eight.

And I felt it all

outside the gate.

Wondering now if I could have stopped her, but I ran

like a stranger embracing escape.

                                                          c.  Onyx Uriarte 2010

There's that word again-" innocence" the Writing Angel used it when he said to me that his mermaids and innocence would overcome darkness. 

 When I look innocence up in the dictionary it means "free of all evil" or "foolishly trustful". 

When I look to the Mayan divination card  of New Myth (which I recently picked from the deck of cards- nice synchronicity here!) -this card speaks of noticing the metaphors of your daily life as the moments unfold.  To be present to now and creator of your own personal myth- purpose. And that this way of being is the path of trust, the path of innocence.

So what does this return to innocence really look like? Feel like?

I reminded of a surprising occurrence someone close shared with me.  

They were in conversation with one of their in- laws- a woman who sometimes does unusual things like phoning to say, " Don't ride your motorcycle today"- and the two of them began to talk about me when suddenly she became entranced making a beckoning gesture.  This woman then began to repeat over and over again for me to "come home".  She sat with these words and gesture for about 30 minutes! ( I did mention she could be unusual) 

When I heard this it was so affirming.  Affirming that I am on my way, walking home to myself, everyday....  Walking the mystical path with practical feet- Basque saying.

 This return home as a life process I read in the words of Ted Kaptchuk , author of "The Web That Has No Weaver, "  -  "Healing is a crucible to encounter the source of our being in worst times; it is our genuine and potentially intact response to chaos, anguish, and suffering... an opportunity to uncover the truth of who we really are....Healing is not something we do only when we are sick; it is part of the process and journey of life"

And so I write....

 

Believe I met the writing angel last night on the subway home. He was decked out in fluorescent lime green high tops, shorts, outback leather hat and had luggage near by with Nightmare Before Christmas looking dolls hanging off the side. I sat across from him and immediately picked up on the vibe of the woman cramped to the window beside him.  She was politely trying to ignore his talk, but when I sat down I felt his radar turn around to me.  Now some people do the classic no eye contact tactic, which is usually successful, and if there was a hint of aggression  I probably would have opted for that. But clearly here was a man of artistic bent, with a handful of business cards that he was using as sketching paper. And I became his subject from St. Clair Ave. E down to the Yonge St. stop. He was an Chinese man with an English accent, and introduced himself as coming from England as he fiercely sketched my profile. I watched the woman beside him looking over his shoulder to gauge the outcome. Her expression was at once interested, amused and perplexed.  I imagined myself with three eyes. His words came out fast and passionate so I didn't catch his name, but he spoke of writing movie scripts.  This angel seemed bursting with ideas and talked about needing to write them down immediately so as not to forget them. He stressed this point or at least my brain stressed this point to me and my focus sharpened onto this messenger.  

He then shared the themes he was working on in a script where mermaids would save the earth from humans and innocence would triumph over darkness.  He said it was very serious, but a comedy. He spoke about humans truly in the third person, and then asked me to guess how many woman did he already have now for his movie as mermaids.  

I guessed 20. Higher. 85? Higher- he had 60 I believe he said billion women as mermaids for his movie.  I gave an impressed look and so did the woman behind him as she was still eyeing his sketching progress. I told him I was getting off soon, his fingers then flew faster over the card, and he handed his work to me signed and dated.

It was a good rendition of me with a serene look on my face. I thanked him and we said farewell with the praise of innocence being victorious in its rescue of earth. 

On the bus home I remembered his words and promptly started to write down...lime green high tops...mermaids....England.... What he said I needed to hear.

 I looked down at the business card, the labelled side stated community services. Turning it over I looked again at the image of myself and now noticed the swirl of water below my chin and the fish head popping up to the surface just beneath me. Was I one of his mermaids now? 

I hope so.  

As I sit down to write I am reminded of those letters received around the end of the year that give a summary of the writer's year. Specifically the ones that ramble on. 

And I think to myself, will I carry on like that?

What is the essence of what I want to express? 

That I am so sad, and yet so happy and grateful to have a friend as good as the one who just recently began her move back to B.C.  Her presence, just doors away from my place for 10 years, has been a real gift in this urban setting.

The idea of her leaving gestated for a year. We spent a lot of time warming up to the idea of her leaving. And I will miss walks in the park, True Blood at her place, potlucks in the torrential rain and making supremely funny faces together.

I admire her consistent plugging away at all the necessary details to haul herself and her dog up and out of T.O. in her packed up car.  And I admire her reasons for moving out West.

When walking down the street now to Garden Fresh Supermarket (what we call Not So Fresh) I find myself looking up to the darken windows of her recently vacated apartment.  Her leaving has me thinking about where I am at with Good byes- but look, I've been texted- she's just outside Regina now.

I remember a long ago friend speaking about initiation as walking through the fire till all the soft bits are burnt off. The purification of a habit or belief- of some outworn yet still clinging lived pattern- this process to become more conscious can feel like that fire.  Though I'd like to keep some of the 'soft bits' in the wake of it. LOL

For me, this walk has meant holding the paradoxes within myself- feminine/masculine, dependent/independent, ugly/beautiful, spiritual/physical, love/hate, judgemental/non-judgemental.... And giving them space to be.  Holding them both. To show me where I am on the line between, and where I could go.

Healing, I believe brings one to a threshold, a place where initiation to a new state of being can take place.  Back in January 2010,  I was lying on the step in front of this threshold. Literally, lying down on a step at Good Life Fitness of all places. Just waiting for a group exercise class to start. And suddenly I'm looking up into the eyes of a modern day Joan of Arc-burning eyes filled with visions- "You're going to be going through an initiation."

I glibly replied that this sounded great. 

 Seriously, this can't be happening to me at Good Life Fitness?!  I signed a contract to just change my physical body....didn't I ?

Joking aside, at the time the words did ring true to me, and I have total respect for the messenger. We since have participated together in Native healing sweats.  (In time I 'll back track to experiences of Native shamanic healing).

Since last January I've come now to believe that writing is my initiation. I feel like it is activating an aspect of myself that I have not lived out yet.  So I am in the fire, or perhaps the ocean.  Nebulous again.

The gain of a greater sense of who I am- the synergy created from a reconnection to my self- at a higher level with a greater internal balance is worth the ride.

Before I continue down the proverbial rabbit hole any further I have to admit that writing this blog has me feeling vulnerable, unbelievably so.  I understand that the drive that compels me to follow this form of expression is leading me to ask questions of myself.  What is this drive about? 

Right now I feel it is demanding me to define myself more, which can only be helpful as in the past I have tended to be a bit too nebulous.  "A bit", is that being nebulous?! Aggghhhh.

Now I am reminded of a wonderful quote by Rilke:

" i beg you...to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. don't search for the answers, which could not be given you now, because you would not be able to live them. and the point is, to live everything. live the questions now. perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without ever noticing it, live your way into the answer..."

Ok, so I let go of my hold on this root here to slide down into the darkness of the rabbit hole. In the darkness the word synergy flashes bright.  Synergy- the union of two or more principles, qualities that when combined, can create a greater whole. 

Synergy- why did I choose this word as the name for the healing work I give and receive? 

Long, convoluted story, so I imagine the words will come to me to give it shape, that definition that is being evoked by the blog master ( blog master- that inner task master in my head?)

While walking down the Danforth I came upon two identical sculptures that combined the head and upper body of a lion with the tail of a fish.  This brought to mind the alchemy of bringing polar opposites together to forge the inner gold of our highest Self.  The moment felt synchronous as I had just decided to name my work Synergy Healing.

 Walking contradiction that I can be, I have for many years been like a fish in a spiral swim, up and down into shallow and deeper waters.  Sometimes swimming can get exhausting, so I have learned to float.  Floating...... back crawl, breast stroke, treading water!.....floating again. 

 These times are intense and I am one traveller welcoming others to engage in a dialogue on healing.  So to avoid a continuous blog monologue I will at times interview others on- What are your healing experiences? What is healing? What heals?

 And other topics like Tesla sex (your best- electric- really none of my business- but sometimes its fun to swim in the undertow to see where it goes!)  

I joke, but we are so multi- faceted that what heals could fall into a wide range, from modalities specifically intended to heal like energy work or massage to the creative arts and sexual energy.  And so much more I imagine.....