“Sorry. It did it by itself.” I stick out my tongue. “Love you!” I say with a cheesy fake smile.
My face feels heavy. I lug myself up the spiral case to my room to take a knee on my mat.
80 sessions. A Yoga Retreat. Second week. Two yogas a day, the owners, the staff, their friends and family, and two sessions per student. No matter how late I finish, sometimes 10 or 11 pm, I will come to this mat and do yoga. No matter how early I start, sometimes 7 am, I will begin each day here.
Some days I have to dig deeper than others to find the love. When the depletion hits its thorough. I feel it in my bones.
I get a lot of help, but I am only human.
A new group arrives. I know this group too, we all hug and embrace they hope I am staying, I am not. They get sad grandma looks on their faces as they ask about my life, about Maui, about love.
I didn't stay.
They look concerned.
I tell them it is the least traumatic break up I have ever had and though it has taken a year to not miss him everyday, I am happy I am in Nevada City. The rest of my life is so fulfilling and filling with new friends and community that I have the patience to wait on the gift and magic of love to arrive.
I try Tinder for two days. It's both comforting to know so many people are looking and disturbing when I see two of the guys out at Mexican. They are sitting together on their phones. I literally stand in front of their table. They don't look up. I laugh inside and think to myself...this is retarded. Put your phone down. I defect and decide organic is better. I'd rather paint and go to the river.
I feel spirit tapping me on the head. Zonia?
Write. I do. I write a book a month. I have books from my crazy London trip with the Russian princess who has dementia. Its filled with cooky stories involving my crazy medicine sister and a gift from the 9 indigenous grandmothers. Those grandmothers. I really need to talk to them. I've been upset with them since the women's gifting circles.
Upset? How can you be upset with the grandmothers? Get me started.
The climate of women isolated in their insanity, man bashing, began back then. I can still remember while on my travels having sisters I had known who randomnly would "think" to call me. Ask personal questions, tell me we could continue this conversation If I paid them $5000.
Excuse me? Are you fucking nuts?
Out of their mouth the sales technique of many a pyramid scheme.
“It's a pyramid scheme” I tell them.
“No, it isn't.”
“Yes, it is and don't fucking use my personal life to fund your India trip.”
Jesus. It’s an upsetting scheme of heart strings for money.
I keep travelling.
Many other sisters who used to be friends will quarantine their hearts and round people into circles. Some will make thousands, others will sell their cars hoping to get rich, and most will get left at the bottom of the pyramid all in a quest to "Be friends" with people who used to do so for free.
It will issue in a whole new era of sacred commerce that stretches into the inner sanctums of a London bedroom with an ill princess who used to fund lamas and religious leaders, who will receive scathing letters from these people when she loses her fortune and can no longer be a patroness.
She will isolate herself from public because of her thinning hair and to hide her new status filling boxes of high end lottery schemes hoping to refill coffers. All come from so called gurus and spiritual advisors, while old, not even a family member is present to help.
She will run down the hall to my room, in the middle of the night, telling me the voices are saying she is going to die. I will calmly walk her to bed and discuss the journey of life with her.
"Yes," I tell her, "We are all going to die."
"But no one has ever talked to me like this."
"Make peace with your life. It's time."
I will fall in love with her while washing her hair and she will say, "I think I'm thinning back there."
I tell her, she is.
She will let me hold her and she will tell me she wants to give me the medicine bundle the 9 grandmothers gave to her. Its the end of a year of many sisters asking me for money. I smile at her and say thank you, but I will leave without asking for it.
I will leave and walk the whole city of London, go across every bridge, see Micheal Angelo's sketches which are in and of themselves masterpieces, and attend a flamenco show that will change my life.
I will change my focus from my father's New Mexico Apache ancestry to my mother's gypsey blood. I will have a dream of running a gypsey caravan for people to learn rhythm, movement, and voice.
I will write the story of life as it unfolds, and buy new journals and always remember one very important thing.
Our humanness makes us HUMANE. The less we accep our imperfections the further we get from our humanity.
Humanity. So many choices to make. I’m thinking about my friend Paula who is angry with me for not taking her side in a custody battle with her ex-husband. She tells me to champion her rights though bedridden with Lou Gerriggs disease. I will struggle inside knowing her father will take her to the beach to play in the ocean. Her daughters anxiety attacks are fresh in my mind. I tell her I will pray for her daughter. It’s not enough. I ask, “God what’s right?” and keep doing what I can.
I will think about all this as I cross over from Mexico to the United States. Nothing but time on the day of travel and lines that wrap around carosels to get into lines. I dance around. Strike up random conversations, play with kids and watch people anxious who will want to talk about how bad their day has been until they realize we are all in this together. We have all been waiting.
I transition slowly from smiles, acknowledgments, hugs and laughter, into the grey mechanical world of technology and the American syndrome of group think that is infecting people linked by social media. One degree of country separation and what seems normal is crazy.
Women are on a rampage about gender and, my aged dentist tells me that relations between men and women are back in the dark ages. We couldn't be further apart.
People will come to see me in tears, tension in their bodies from lack of contact and I am still recovering form Mexico.
I will take knee in yoga several times before I realize what I really need is sleep and a bath.
I will get slow slow slower and I will ignore the message from spirit...Zonia?
Si a little wearier than my usual
Instead, I will find myself river rock jumping and bathing topless on the granite near the river.
I will wish for the freedom gold, laugh knowing many have done so at the waters edge and I will let it go, feel settled in my heart with a golden sunray warming my bare chest to sky.
And finally, the voice will crescendo until I am at the computer and I am praying. Who’s reading? I don’t have Facebook. Doesn’t matter. I write because I must, usually with pen and paper, today with keyboard.
Breathe. When it comes it flows fast.
Creator, write me. This is what comes through:
Help me to say all the truths people know to be true inside their hearts but can't find words to say...
Like...the messages of the stars coming to us from light hears away...
Telling us the story about how money and technology almost divided us until we remembered to look to the Earth and God for comfort. Until we remembered that who and what we are can't be taken away from us.
It's in us.
But until we turn in again HOLD HANDS, let all the fucking bullshit go NOTHING is going to get better.
Look with your heart, filter costumes from real people. You'll recognize them by the light in their eyes, by the fact that they believe in and talk about GOD...not as a concept or out there far away ideal.
But HERE in our HEARTS.
The real deal.
You'll know them by the way they love people. Altruism. You will know them by the way they help people and give out of their want. They let people God Earth Spirit take everything from them even their life, but not their CONNECTION TO GOD that is called INTEGRITY.
You'll know them because they keep faith in a higher power. You’ll know them because they don’t get caught up in mass hysteria or witch hunts. You’ll know them because they are a calming compassionate force that will bring you back to LOVE.
THE ONLY THING THAT MOTIVATES A SHAMAN MEDICINE MAN is the heart of the MOTHER. The HEART of a woman is what saves the planet, not the power or intellect. And if ego beauty and charisma reign then we forget we are all born of a women and an egg without sperm washes away as blood.
Mother. We are all someone to her regardless of station and money is no indication of divine favor.
THE LOVE OF A WOMAN LIKE A MOTHER for her children is the power of love the world needs. UNCONDITIONAL.
Forgive each other. Please. Forgive each toher everything. Whatever it was...START OVER TODAY.
Every single one of us.
God, we need to organize a PUT THE GODDAMN CELL PHONE DOWN DAY.
We need relief.
Jesus. Holy Spirit. Buddha. Mohammed. Great spirit.
Every Univeral Being of Light
Break the chain of control over our heads--our hearts.--our body’s addictions.
Bring us into UNION. Ecstatic. Super Nova Union Dance Pray Move. Channel God.
and...be careful who you defend and side with...if you spew vileness in return to put a person in place, you are now an attacker perpetrating verbal abuse.
Spiritual Resistence. It is softer. It is in the heart.
Resist mechanic, cold cutting words you say to NO FACE, NO EARS.
Words on screens are BRAINWASHING you.
Take back your spirit. Go to river. Try sobriety. Get over your social anxiety, go in public interact with human beings get off news Facebook is propaganda. Propaganda written by peers who smile and sell you their success is still propaganda, especially if it divides.
Give your tears and fears to the river. Pray our waters stay free.
Band together to keep land otherwise GIANT CORPORATIONS ARE GOING TO BUY IT and turn the Sierras into MONOCULTURED GMO POTFIELDS.
While you inform others about how they should be, planning your next trip, playing rich and famous, selling your amazingness, the powers that be are sweeping the nation selling National Parks.
Burn your Pendleton blankets if you need to..no, don't they are cool, warm and once people traded horses for them.
You will know Yuba lovers and Gold lovers because the GOLD lovers chase GOLD the river lovers lay naked on the granitie in infinite BLISS. Communion.
Hippie Gypsey Roots.
We've lived with nothing. Live that way now, but don't sell the land. Save it. Band Together. This is when the power of community manifests.
Don't break apart over power struggles, ego or fear.
This is how FIRE hold together at the CENTER in the private PRAYERS of our HEARTS.
For Earth, not fame, not fortune, not Apple, Ipod or IPhone, but EARTH.
Guard her with your heart and fall deeply in love with her, realize YOU CAN'T LIVE WITHOUT HER. CAN NOT.
Dumb. It’s that fucking simple. Geez.
Brain Surgery. We need a lobotomy.
Pull the fucking headset out of your ears and LISTEN to SILENCE again.
Then rise up singing songs of LOVE and TOGETHERNESS.
Songs of gratitude and rejoicing for nature's beauty.
Make peace. Stop fighting.
African. Native American. Mexican. Tribal ways depend on peace and communication between members.
If two people are fighting they need to sit together and talk because no one will be happy where there is hurt. No one it’s why grandmothers used to gather the warring parties together not encourage shit talking and division.
Pray to keep the love together.
Can everyone bow their heads and pray this to their God?
REVIVE LOVING FEELING IN OUR HEARTS AGAIN.
To the fire, into the center of Earth which is our heart, to bring us back together, the two parts of our broken hearts and literally put them and our heads together in EMBRACE.
HOLD EACH OTHER. CLOSER. CLOSE ENOUGH TO HEAR BREATH.
And stretch ourselves to LOVE MORE. FORGIVE MORE.
Make more space for other to make errors and experience us in our own vulnerability without carefully crafted photos.
In time you will know who is praying with the ancestros for FUTURE GENERATIONS TO HAVE LIFE.
At the river. A new serpant painting on rock.
Got that right. We are the ancestors for the future.
What will the children see we LOVE?
Spread love become an orchestra of God's children. Come together in UNIVERSE.
In praise of women. In praise of men.
I remember going to a ceremony on the reservation for the women who returned from war who had been brutally raped by their own people. We were there together in a house surrounded by photos of all the ancestors and at my back was a giant deer cedar drum I could have fit inside that spoke water through me.
It told me to tell the women, not to forget to include good men in their healing because their healing would be not be complete without them.
Nelson Mandala. Stop fighting. Love.
In hatred there is no freedom and no one will be happy. Guard your freedom and focus on the things our lives actually depend on
Clear your lungs and find the words your soul want to express in starlit walks. The sunrising, no longer to the face of my Beloved or Haleakela is still beautiful.
Just painting. Getting ready for work.
Gluten free pizza. Bowling night.
Simple. Getting really simple.
What a fucking crazy year. Anyone?!?!? Geez...thanks eclipse. Now I know why ancient people said NOT to look at it, it would destroy your life. Hahah crazy modern people we stared at it by the thousands and watched as our whole life gets stripped away, revealed, exposed, wow! So much to write...
but I have so much to live.
Gotta go. Love you's.