Road to the Phoenix

Aeons

2016-03-15T17:16:00.000-07:00

In the heat of the summer I run to the water
to plead with Mother Nature to open my heart
so the child inside me can shriek with joy.
When the season fades to autumn,

and the burn of summer begins to disappear,

I breathe in her aromatic, mild air
crisp enough to remind me of what I have lost
Mother, can you protect me from what I want?

Yet ever so frigid is winter's reminder
that pristine snow turns to biting ice in the night,
leaving my heart clenched around the ache
to shield me from what just healed me
a few dozen moons ago.
But one day this will be over,
as the soothing thaw of spring is not so far away.
Mother, can you protect me from what I want?

The love I let in, it left me so lost.

You'll find a rooftop to sing from

Or find a hallway to dance

You don't need no edge to cling from

Your heart is there, it's in your hands

I know it seems like forever

I know it seems like an age

But one day this will be over

I swear it's not so far away"

(*italicized text from Florence & the Machine's "Various Storms & Saints" & "Mother.")

Exuding Warmth

2015-10-02T21:12:00.000-07:00

There's something I felt when you smiled at me-
as you walked towards me on the sidewalk under evening glow.
Only a small smile escaped out of the corner of my mouth,
as I grinned from the inside out and had to look down
just to harness the flush that went over me.
There's a warmness that naturally exudes from you,
that left me slightly speechless in the first 10 minutes after
you greeted me with a hug and immediately I began
stumbling in my mind trying to find something to say.
Then as you sat down, across the table still smiling
gazing into my eyes, as if you could see what I was thinking.

Who are you?
What is it that has been left in me, ever since that night
two eves ago when we decided to meet.

Ever since that time you have not left my mind.

You've caught me entirely by surprise, and

I'm not certain what has crossed my path,

or what has resided like a pit in my chest.

As I've talked to you once more,

it appears you've struck a chord;

hearing your voice through the phone

I still struggled at first to keep my composure.

What is it you have, for me to behave this way?

(written 9/20/15 and edited 10/2/15)

Life Cycle of Eight

2015-08-25T12:59:00.000-07:00

Eight,
has followed me my entire life.
Symbolizing birth, life, luck, identity,
and synonymous with
Chinese and Japanese cultures; wealth.

Eight symbolizes infinity.
A promise of renewal,
and also a promise of life always
following a cycle; that returns
to you, what you have invested in it.

Eight has also seen a lifetime occur,
in as many times within my spirit.
Eight times I return to myself to bear witness;
to the burning of old, and fertile welcoming of rebirth.

In eight years I have grown, more than I ever could or would have,
had this day, in as many years...not occurred.
This very day, in several of the first eight years-
translated into suffering, hiding, and nightmares.

Today, with eight years worth of perspective,
I stand in remembrance of innocence lost, and honor the woman I have become,
despite and because of my losses.
The passion, the wisdom, the fierceness, the resolve.

My dreams grew so much larger and greater than myself;
because of the lessons I learned having burned to ashes,
picked up my pieces, rejuvenating the simplified remains,
and enlisting the masters' wisdom to be reborn, in each of the last eight years.

Here I am. On the eighth year, when perhaps I may feel sorrow,
for the shattered heart of the 25 year old young woman I once was.
May my tears fall briefly, as I recall how painful that time was.

May I also rejoice, as this eight bends, and I with it-
into the cycle of this life I have created, through my own blood, sweat and tears.
Into this life I was gifted, and have continued to be blessed with-
this life that I wouldn't change a second of, for all the money in the world.

Eight years brought me suffering.
Eight years brought me nightmares, flashbacks,
lost lovers, fits of rage, confusion, anger, despair...

Eight years now brings me perspective, gratitude, growth, faith, sisters and brothers in survival,
my Phoenix, my writing, coming into the love of my cherished family and friends,
courage, thriving and most of all, the woman I am today.
Who I love more than I ever could have if my 25 year old heart wasn't shattered into so many tiny damned pieces.

Eight years it's taken me to live and thrive in my own skin.
Eight years to look at myself in the mirror and feel proud of who is looking back.
Eight years to realize that I have nothing to prove, to anyone but myself.
Eight years to discover that much of my beauty lies in my ability to be myself.
Eight years it's taken me to learn how to unlock so much love in this world, that is meant for me.
Eight years it's taken me to know that I deserve it...to be happy, and to be loved.
Eight years that I can now cherish, as I'm learning to do for the most sacred parts of me.
Eight years not only to believe that I can heal, but understanding it by seeing how I can heal others.

Those same parts that I thought were stolen from me, I had no idea how they would blossom
right out from under my ashes.
Eight years, I survived- and even greater, I am thriving.

Forgiving Darkness

2015-07-18T12:26:00.001-07:00

If it's impossible to know what love is, without forgiving someone's darkness-- that certainly explains a lot of why I struggle to love myself at times. If It's impossible to know someone, without seeing their darkness, that would explain why I feel so empty still. I'm acquainted with my darkness, we dance and philosophize sometimes. Other times we meet each other in silence, honoring each others' presence without dialogue. Still other moments, I curse my darkness - and insult my integrity and ability to persevere - at the expense of my attention, hope, and faith. Writing is my only honesty ticket for my darkness, my connecting flight, my opener. I've been searching and taking inventory of my fears lately to gain insight into why I can't communicate directly with them, why I can't bring them to the forefront and allow others to see them, and to know me in that way. Forgiveness seems to be the missing party, the lost luggage so to speak. I can't absorb the love of others, nor all of the love around me, or at least a large portion of it because I am waterlogged by disdain, disapproval and judgment of my own darkness. Even more importantly, I haven't been able to further develop my own ability to love myself, and I see now why forgiveness is a majority of the reason why. Toxicity becomes my environment without the outlet for my darkness, and there is no guarantee of muse, no cure-all for writer's block. I know now that I need another way in. I've lived a long time, 33 years without another way in. I started writing at 11, to document my suffering that I didn't understand at the time. As I got older, the writing wasn't enough, and I sought outside help. I became more versed in managing my mental health, and then as expected, life became more complicated. Today, my skills to manage certain aspects of my mental health, have proven to not be enough -- and suffering is getting the best of me, rearing its ugly head as exhaustion and burn out.

I've had moments, periods of time in my life when I felt that I was very strongly loving myself. But I find that these states are not permanent, and if you aren't careful, you fall right out of them; as I have. I've forgotten how to love myself, and I'm not sure I've ever been able to love myself in the wild way that I love others. And I understand that my hopeless romantic way of loving some others in my life, will never be replicated in my love for myself- as would be expected as I don't have that same relationship with myself. However, should I be able to love myself with similar fervor? Is the love that I deserve, from myself, of a different variety altogether? What is the sign that will show me that enough is enough? Have I ever seen it before? If forgiveness is the missing party, it would seem that shame is the vehicle for my lack of forgiveness. I don't let other people see my darkness because I'm too busy protecting them from it, or perhaps I am only protecting myself - and instead only robbing them of seeing me. I hide because I can't be sure that I can function outside of my darkness enough to be what I perceive as visible to others. I hide because of how I perceive myself to be intolerable to others. Why am I ashamed of my darkness? In some ways I relate this to others' in my life in the past who have shown disdain for the intensity of my emotions. Other's who have not known how to bear witness to my emotions without feeling responsible for them, others who are unable to bear witness to my emotions without feeling consumed by them. I don't want anyone to bear any burden of what I feel, as I truly believe I was given this ability to feel so intensely, for a reason. I don't want anyone to be hurt by the intensity of my emotions, because hurting myself is enough. Searching for my way in... meditating with all of you. Welcoming submissions, as always. Be well, and find your way in as well, as I am searching for mine.

-Phoenix

Mountain Dreamer

2015-07-09T21:35:00.000-07:00

I'm in the throes of a memory

stuck in the eye of a storm.

You really took a hold of me,

but I gave of myself willingly.

Now that you've had your fill of me;

I just want to raise my hands to the sky

and scream, but I cannot breath so instead

I'm teaching myself how to be free.

I put myself in shackles,
clinging to a mountain,

chasing a mirage of family that

I longed for so fiercely that I lost

sight of my feet, and find myself slipping

with no edges to grasp on to,

only slick grass and puddles

to land in, only mud to catch me.

Now my face is slathered in a film

that I can't wash clean,

instead I'm inciting my demons

and they're coming to cash in.
Ghosting just like you would do
to come out alive, to survive.
Now I'm dancing as only I know how
to end this slide, and to rise.

_______________________________________________________

“And I found that I can do it if I choose to - I can stay awake and let the sorrows of the world tear me apart and then allow the joys to put me back together different from before but whole once again.”

― Oriah Mountain Dreamer

Once again as always, thank you to Florence as well, who has been my favorite muse in the last year.

Too Much is Never Enough

2015-06-28T14:05:00.000-07:00

I acted as though my love was enough for two and
prayed that my huge heart could make up for you.
I dreamed that if I could only be consistent
you would wake up and forget the resistance.

Subscribing to the illusion that you would see
that I would never hurt or disappoint you;
I only wanted peace,
in the deepest, most sacred parts of you.

Like the stars chase the sun,
over the glowing hill, I will conquer.

Alas, some wounds run far too deep,
and some things never sleep.
But I never stopped trying
even when inside I was dying.

Even still, you are headstrong
unwilling to bend, unable to bond.
Uncomfortable with staying, too conflicted
to leave.

I know that you loved me, and
I know that you still do.
But something bigger grips you
than my efforts can break through

And my love is no good
Against the fortress that it made of you.

To which only you have the key.

**Tip of the hat to Florence & the Machine's "Queen of Peace," off of the album shown below**

Avoiding Voids

2015-06-19T23:37:00.000-07:00

You cannot find happiness
while focused on avoiding
being unhappy.

You can't stay for fear
when holding on to a part
of you that is gone.

The harder you hold
the quicker you'll drop
what is destined to no one.

If it visits you, cherish it
for it will never repeat.

As the blood that runs through your flesh

you are alive, so live

as you are blessed.

Inspired by Verse 24 of the Tao Te Ching and Florence & the Machine

My personal favorite translation, that I own, shown below.

Tourniquet

2015-04-19T20:41:00.001-07:00

There are many different kinds of heartache.
The visible, earth shattering, volatile shriek;
The quiet, slow leaked, suffocating blister;
The banished, unfathomable, piercing vice;
The unassuming, shadowed, marooned wail;
The jailed, wild, storming stampede.

Like a virus, splitting once and then nursed,
Only to replicate into magnificent cells of heat
That burn like a thousand suns
That no amount of shelter can shade.
There is no antidote, no escape route.
No "x" marks the spot, no finish line, no parole.

There are many different safeguards
we craft to soothe our fears of losing
that which we could never own to begin with.
Yet no parachute could ever brace
the impact of knowing it is gone.
The only guarantee in life
is that it will change.

It will hurt like hell,
and it will change.

Gratitude of the day

2015-03-22T11:57:00.001-07:00

For men out there who are humble and brave enough to show women that they're "not all that way" and not all out to hurt/marginalize/laugh at/look down on/control/exploit/sexualize them, rather than just get defensive and say it's "not them" and/or "not their job." For those willing to fight for equality, because they know, it's not just for women, not just feminism, it's for the health and betterment of our world.

Those who are insightful, and humble enough to realize it's their pride that keeps them from treating not just women, but all others the way they should; and instead perpetuating (by action/inaction) the very mistreatment they'd rather not own.

By admitting to himself- that by living in this world, speaking today's language, consuming this culture, and expressing masculinity; he (as we all do) has a hand in the systematic, institutionalized oppression and disenfranchisement of women. Even if for no other reason than by association, he also has a hand in the pot.

And once admitting/acknowledging this, being able to take it a step further, to "man up," to borrow the cultural slang, and choose to act, speak out, change and teach, another way. To teach other men, boys, persons of all genders, the duality of our existence. The ways we are all feminine, all masculine, and that neither side of leaning, has to equate with being strong. That we all can be strong, regardless of gender or ways we express that- we can all expect differently and manifest a different way of life than what has been created, supported, promoted and forced on us for generations.

For men with an inherent understanding that so, many, women out there have been hurt, controlled, damaged, used, raped, and lived in fear because of this - only to have this same oppression and disempowerment perpetuated (and even rewarded/promoted) in the culture we're all exposed to every day. For men willing to examine themselves, the way they treat women (and others) and start by changing himself. We've all got our hands in the pot, and none of us are coming out with our hands clean.

Most of all, for those men who are brave enough to know how scary it can be to stand up for change, and to live in a way that sets them apart from other men, and at times, their own culture and protected bubble, and exposes them to ridicule or exclusion, and do it anyway. Those who know that one little spark can ignite a bonfire of change in the way all of us live, think, speak, the example we set and the ways we treat each other. Thank you, to each and every man out there, you all inspire me to be a better woman, and a better person.

Today's inspiration, thank you Terry Crews.

(Please excuse and any missed grammar or spelling issues, the absence of spellchecker on this app reminds me how much I've come to depend on it!)

Seven Augusts

2014-08-16T09:09:00.003-07:00

Every August comes with a disclaimer, in each of the last seven years.
Each unique in the shifts it spawns, and
every instance comes with a price.

Only now can I decide differently, as
all yesterdays disclude wins and losses.
In all moments of the present day,
only the truest ambitions thrive.

Each eighth month, the number of luck and irony,

pain is inevitable, yet joy is my mission.

An addiction for putting my face through the clouds

tasting the newborn fog on my tongue just

to remind myself that I am alive and well.

Seven years felt like seven suns when searching

the history to discover the path forward.

In each August of every year I find a store of pain.

Be it pain in my heart, pain in another, pain in my universe

each year I find that there are lessons to be learned

that shake up my world and unsettle my mind.

Where are my bearings in this world of change?

All I can feel is that I'm being sent a message

and I'm trying to listen and trust that I'll know what it means.

Aint No Way

2014-03-20T20:17:00.000-07:00

Take it to the pyre
and I still won't back down.
Even when the screams get so loud
that my ears bleed and my eyes burn

Just keep raising the stakes
I'm waiting and ready
even when the fight is gone
I still won't back down.

Call me stubborn
and I'll tell you I'm proud
throw tornadoes at my feet
I'll still turn it around.

If I know one thing at all
its that their aint no easy way out
thankfully I am seeking to stay
will you be there when the smoke clears?

"Ain't no way for me to love you, if you won't let me. Ain't no way for me to give you all you need, if you won't let me give all of me." - Aretha Franklin

Regenerating

2014-03-16T19:19:00.002-07:00

Pleading to my heart to slide down from the upper Milky Way
and safely back into my chest where it belongs.
From where it sprung into action, propelled by waves of intention
as clear as a river bed under ripples from a splash.
My mind, is as open as the Grand Canyon,
but its difficult to pinpoint reality when you can't find your footing.

So much has happened, yet so much has stayed the same.
It's amazing how much can change in fifteen days,
and what can transpire in five minutes.
I found myself in the space before me, waiting with open arms-
And the kinship I've been grieving for weeks, reborn before my eyes.
Isn't it strange, when we feel betrayed,
it's common to discover our owned abandonment?

Live Each Day

2014-03-15T21:42:00.000-07:00

"We sang our hearts out like we wouldn't have to leave this moment." -For The Year (band)

They always say you should live each day like it's your last;
like the fear of death should be what moves us to appreciate each moment.
On the other hand, I think we should always live our life like we won't ever have to stop living at all.
Isn't that what joy is? The release of fear from what it will feel like when it's gone?
Joy is the release of the oppressive fear of vulnerability, otherwise known as the "unknown."
How can we ever really appreciate today if we're already thinking about when it will be over?
In this moment, does it ever truly matter how long it will last? Joy can never be measured in length, time, volume, pitch, intensity, weight or speed.
Joy is the beauty in the immeasurable, the treasure in the untouchable, and the epiphany in the intangible.
So why waste our time trying the unattainable, yet undesirable result of grasping that which we are not entitled?
Joy is a gift that only gives for an undisclosed amount of time.
We might as well fly by the seat of our pants and ride out each crazy second of bliss while it dances through our line of vision.
And if we do, may our lives in turn be blessed by the awareness that freedom is real, and possible.
The heights of having everything, bottled up in a moment licensed to no one, but available to anyone.
May our taste for joy never dampen by the trail that it leaves behind, for instead we can use it as a light-
to guide us through each moment knowing that it will greet us in good time as long as we remain open.

The beatings that life can bring make us all want to close our big hearts to the world,
yet its our entourage of protective walls keeping us from feeling the flight of wholehearted living.
The world tells us: don't feel, just live. Don't get caught up, hung up, let down or held down. Keep moving.
Joy tells us, stop thinking so much, let it go, lighten up, open up and breathe into the beauty. Open your eyes.
Open your heart, and don't be afraid to lose your mind every now and then,
because when you get it back clearer, you can never know what depths of joy available to you unless you're willing to take that leap into the unknown, and do so with reckless abandon.

Love you Bro.

Out of the Embers

2014-03-09T20:55:00.001-07:00

There's always so many words
when there's no time or room to say them.
So many wakeful nights spent spinning
with the thoughts in my head
and like the dial on a Fortune wheel
I find myself in perpetual wonder
towards what, when or where my
thoughts will lead me.

If in a few words I could say
what amounts to a thousand-
from my heart of hearts
I would be a rich, wise woman.
Until then I'm wrestling to come out
on top of these competing themes
eating at my ears and setting
the hairs on the back of my neck on alert.

See, there's a fire in my heart, and
I know I'm due to love it...
but when I approach I haven't quite
mastered the art of not getting burned.
This fire burns so beautifully and I know
unlike live flames, it will never die.
Yet I cannot strain to step out of the embers unless I learn to dance with the flames.

The original inspiration for "Road To The Phoenix"

2014-03-01T08:50:00.002-08:00

In around 2002, I discovered the Tao Te Ching and was floored, and immediately felt connected to, enamored with and inspired by it in ways that many people undoubtedly experience reading the bible. It made sense to me, right away. Yet in the last 12 years the meaning has continued to expand and grow as I have, what a beautiful concept.

There's one particular verse that stands out, it inspired the Phoenix I had imagined for years, that I then searched for an image online to match my longing daydreams and fatefully discovered in Lois Cordelia's work. Lois Cordelia is the artist responsible for the amazing image that graces the logo on this website, and also inspired the creation of the tattoo on my thigh by artist Sharonn Bradbury.

Verse 22 -- Celebrate
No-thing remains itself.
Each prepares the path to its opposite.

To be ready for wholeness, first be fragmented.
To be ready for rightness, first be wronged.
To be ready for fullness, first be empty.
To be ready for renewal, first be worn out.
To be ready for success, first fail.
To be ready for doubt, first be certain.

Because the wise observe the world
through the Great Integrity,
they know they are not knowledgeable.
Because they do not perceive
only through their perceptions,
they do not judge this right and that wrong.
Because they do not delight in boasting,
they are appreciated.
Because they do not announce their superiority,
they are acclaimed.
Because they never compete,
no one can compete with them.

Verily, fragmentation prepares the path to wholeness,
the mother of all origins and realizations.
-Lao Tzu, translated by Ralph Alan Dale

I highly and wholeheartedly recommend the version shown in the link below, as there have been hundreds of translations of this legendary work- none could hold a candle to the succinct, vibrant version translated from Chinese by Ralph Alan Dale. This version is stocked with beautiful artistic works, both in illustration and photography to highlight the timeless beauty and simplicity of the verses; as well as commentary after the featured verses to help those new to Taoism understand its construct and terms. There's also a helpful introduction to introduce Taoism, its history; and Lao Tzu's motivation to use "metaphoric fragments which sing the literary music of the right brain, the transcendence of language through unordinary language" (Dale, Intro, XII). The introduction also helps readers better understand the left and right cerebral hemispheres and the very fabric of our minds and spirits that the work intends to tap into, and the aspects of liberation "from our limitations and distortions" that Lao Tzu sought to guide people towards.

When we are "fragmented," it is difficult to imagine that our countless pieces could ever fit together again to regain any semblance of the figure and identity we possessed before. There are messages in the universe, however, that guide us to loosen our grip on what we think we've known all along; even as intrinsically as we may see and know ourselves. To think that we could let go and experience monumental loss at our own design; and in doing so gain the wholeness that we all seek to a greater capacity than we've ever known- is a difficult leap of faith to make. Without doing so, however, we can never even achieve a chance at the fullness of life and joy that we all deserve. Without faith and hope, we are nothing. The blessed thing about life, though is that we are never at a loss for either. Faith, by definition is always awaiting us in our periphery, destined to be elicited by conscious acts of love for ourselves and others. It is to be discovered when we are ready, and when we are most in need of its energy and direction- and a little dot of hope is all we need to be transported to where we can discover it. We can never leave or be released from the "unwanted" places within ourselves if we do not have the courage to seek them out, open the door to live within them and love with the same fervor that we too often waste desperately sprinting to escape them. To be what you seek in happiness and freedom, we must first feel the pain of the shackles tightened over the nightmares of our past. To be set free, we must first admit that we have been held down for far too long. Be empty, to be fulfilled.

May you be peace and love always,
Phoenix

Healing Trauma: What it Really Takes to Liberate your Brilliance

2013-12-07T13:02:00.001-08:00

I recently discovered an amazing blog entry while perusing The Integral Approach to Psychotherapy regarding the importance of resolving trauma within our histories, within our hearts, souls, minds and lives. The damage that can be done by ignoring or continually banishing our "unwanted" emotions from the pain of our past, is greater than that which can be overcome by scraping the surface or ridding ourselves from the memories, or even from the effects of the scars. The more we try to escape, the deeper we become entrenched within and shackled onto our pain; and the more difficult it will be to overcome. Yet for those who are committed, there is another side to your story- and a light within that can shine so brilliantly beyond anything you ever thought possible. Patience is key, but courage and faith, and hope for something better will light a fire that you can follow with the help of a trusted other. Whether that other is a psychotherapist, a guide, a spiritual coach, or other figure in your life that you trust with your "unwanted" parts/emotions. See an excerpt below, and please visit this webpage and see the brilliance for yourself.

The most exciting part of the human experience is the creative potential that awaits in the center of our wounds waiting to be accessed and embodied.

If we choose to stay unconscious and unaware of our wounds and how they affect our present lives, we remain handicapped by the fog of projection and the cognitive distortions of our early experiences. However, If we choose to lean into our pain for the sake of transformation and address our wounds directly, we have the potential to live lives beyond what you can currently imagine where joy, love and peace are the primary reality we experience.

“Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.” ― C.G. Jung

Healing Trauma: What it Really Takes to Liberate your Brilliance as seen on Womb of Light, thanks to writer and inspirational speaker Bethany Webster. (PLEASE NOTE: Image seen here is the logo from Womb of Light, all rights reserved to Womb of Light and Bethany Webster.)

http://womboflight.com

Phoenix Road Books for Social Work, Psychology, self help, and entertainment books, DVD's, music and more!

2013-10-11T07:08:00.000-07:00

For those of you that don't know, I wanted to bring my business to your attention. Phoenix Road Books has been in existence for about the same time as this website itself. The store was developed to support this website and keep it running; with books containing themes similar to those introduced in the work and containing material to inspire and expand on ideas introduced on this page. Most of the books in my inventory are catered to those interested in recovery from trauma, mental health studies, and personal self-help books. However, the store also carries general entertainment DVD's and books, and those for other interests. I'd love it if you would take a look and as with anything published on this website, I am very open to suggestions, submissions and requests. Please let me know if you need any help navigating the store, purchasing items or if you would like to request that a particular item be ordered. I have access to quite a bit of updated Social Work literature and other resources that may be very helpful to you and I would be more than happy to seek out particular titles if you so desire.

http://www.amazon.com/shops/phoenix_road_books

Thinking of you and looking forward to reading creative submissions!

Be love,
Phoenix

2013-10-08T14:41:00.000-07:00

You left your mark on me

Or so you thought

I left my heart

Temporarily

You left your mark on me

Or so you thought

I came back to find it

But somewhere in between

I lost me.

I left more marks on me

Or so I thought

I found myself again

I left more marks on me

Mistook blood for emotion

And I’m jump starting endlessly.

I’ve got my eyes on you

You’re everywhere that I see

I’ve got a circular devotion

To all that’s been failing me.

I gave you everything I feel

Yet nothing that was real

When I went to assess the damage

The marks were gone

But the pain was obscene

It was as if I could taste it

If I ever uttered a word

I might not embrace it

But I can’t help but face it.

Refinancing Meditation

2013-10-07T14:20:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the first time you meditate on something isn't enough. In the moment, you can be a practiced yogi, or even a practitioner of meditation; and go as deeply into thought and emotion as time will allow you to go. In that moment, you could have reached the depths of potential for a particular focal point, subject, intention or energy. Yet, with time passing by; this potential changes, and your ability to dig deeper does as well. This leads to one of the oldest methods to my madness, in reviewing older material; some of which may be unfinished- some of which I previously thought were complete, I walk even further with difficult emotions than my feet would take me the first time around. I don’t always understand what the connection is to my original meditation and writing; to what comes out the second time around. Sometimes the two pieces are related, sometimes the second piece is no more than an extension of the first, and sometimes the second piece takes thinking and feeling in an entirely different direction. Sometimes when I’m writing the second time around it feels as if I discover the true meaning behind what I was scraping at to begin with. Sometimes that feels like a breakthrough. Other times it feels like a slap in the face, makes me wonder how I could have missed it the first time around. Regardless, I always feel as if I was supposed to re-walk certain paths, and I wouldn’t have known that had I not attempted openly, aimlessly, to step into something real. To reassess that which I had traversed before, to find out if I looked over everything. To find out how I have grown, and where that growth may take me with my older thoughts and intentions. To reevaluate, re-appreciate, respect in retrospect.

Just some thoughts to share for those who are writers or want to take their craft more seriously. Remember, none of us are beyond the need for re-evaluation! It can be immensely powerful to hear others' feedback on your work, but in your own time it is a way to grow beyond your own perspective, and expand your thinking to what's "outside the box." What are some ways you re-evaluate your work?

It's been a very long time since we've seen any submissions here on Road to the Phoenix. I'd love to see more of your work! Please feel free to submit any freewrites, social commentary, poetry or other art forms you feel apply to the themes of this website. Thanks as always for reading!

-Phoenix

Frequencies of Protection

2013-10-04T12:16:00.001-07:00

Tell me why,
have I been running in circles
for so long now?
Tell me why,
when I look at you
you don't know me anymore?
Tell me why,
after all this time
I am asking myself the same questions
while the answers often land
in such distance from the truth?

In the end,
when so much depends
on finding the truths
within ourselves;
tell me why,
we spend so much time
and expend precious energy
creating fantasies of grandeur?
To decorate, elaborate, accentuate
and feed our egos...
...a perfect decoy for the truth.

Tell me why,
I often find myself
so far outside of my voice,
that I cannot decode my own
frequencies of protection?
Tell me why,
it's become so difficult
to ascertain the difference
between what I've been
telling myself and what's recorded
in spiritual transmission?

I find it rather unsettling,
that I could step so swiftly
outside of my center,
that I leave no footsteps
for my heart to follow home.
Tell me why, I can sit here
grasping at straws
gasping for clarity
ready to lunge at a moment's notice
just to land in a spot that feels
even remotely like home.

Rumination on NY Times' article, an exposé on "The Brutality of ‘Corrective Rape’"

2013-07-28T10:53:00.000-07:00

We as Americans write articles like this and call it anthropological research. We enter a foreign country, study and interview her people, traverse and welcome ourselves in others homes, and into suffering "others'" lives. Then into their lives we inject our analysis, our "educated" opinions, and then report back to America; and into the minds of those who read this story, and ingest it as truth because it comes from a reputable or scholarly source. We can be thorough, scholarly, and even considered "courageous" for telling a story about a "far away place" with a "problem" so severe, that we believe the world's (mainly our) shame is the only prescription to "fix" it. Those might be well deserved descriptions; but of course this, as with most things, is debatable.

What I want to know is, why are we so blind to the ways that these "others" and their stories represent themselves in our own culture, in our own back yards, in our own schools, and in our own homes? Why do I have to explain what 'rape culture' is, almost every time that I use the term? Why is it that people look away quickly, as if I've offended their sensibilities, when I tell them that much of my volunteer experience focuses on rape prevention?

With this being said, there is something unmistakably courageous, about giving the voiceless a voice. Rape is a particularly violent form of oppression that is exacerbated by the fear that lives inside of all of us. The same fear that causes family members to hide and/or condone assault of their loved ones out of shame, in an attempt to "protect" that which they consider sacred. In allowing the fear to steer the ship, the "sacred" that they were desperate to hide, created the "corrective" action that perpetuates the violence, and sinks the ship. When we hide from the stories, and inside of denial; we're solidifying and empowering the very source of violence that created the stories to begin with.

Can the effort to give a voice to the voiceless, a platform for the forgotten "other" in an often underserved, struggling area, country or society-- veer from courageous, and slip into exploitative? I think so, especially when that "voice" that we are trying to give, is preemptively quieting and redirecting the voice from within, the voice from inside of our own walls. What is it about the voice of our own women, here in the US, that makes us look away, shrug off, make "rape jokes" about, use derogatory terms like "slut," or write off as "feminist ideals?" I do not intend to discount the value of reporting sexual violence in an effort to expose oppression in its most insidious forms, wherever this report may originate. In a world where the last thought is placed on the survivors of sexual violence, in a society where we're spending too much time about what the survivor was wearing, how many partners a survivor had in the past, or how many drinks this person had; exposure is the first step to creating change. The value of said reporting notwithstanding, what can we do to create awareness, respect and commitment to addressing, understanding and placing value on the issues in our own backyards? I believe that begins with using our anthropology, to place the same attention and analysis at home as well. That begins by admitting that we have a problem of epidemic proportions; but can we as Americans step out of our self-absorption? I'd like to think that this is possible. What can we do to create a better understanding of our own issues?

2013-05-13T01:27:00.001-07:00

stuck awake in the moment when

sleep is an rsvp'd guest

understanding that life is a

mystery, and all i can do is guess.

Somewhere between sweating

and a hot mess,

i look over at my gorgeous beauty

and somehow misery has been bested.

Inspired

2013-03-26T13:22:00.000-07:00

Inspired by warriors, friends, and the force that brought marriage equality to the Supreme Court!

You think we won't win,
and who I am is a sin?
You think I speak too loud,
and that I am just too proud?
You think it's shoving down your throat,
and believe my rights are your vote?
You think that I'll convert your child,
and that it's okay to condone my defiling?

The world now knows how you feel
and that your ignorance is real.
Marriage is not mine to steal
but your place in history will be revealed.

I'm looking at the flags over Boston today, in support of Marriage Equality at the DOMA Rally at City Hall. I feel proud that I am not devoting my life to robbing life from others who want to live freely, without shame. I am proud to be who I am, regardless of who I say it to, regardless of what the laws will "let me" do.

I'm comfortable to let history define me as a person who won't roll over and die in the face of rampant bigotry and prejudice. I won't stop. I won't give in, and I won't forget about the lives that are changed, hurt or much worse, from oppressive policies/laws/attitudes that put the lives and well being of American citizens, adults and defenseless children, at risk. I won't forget who has been hurt, and I won't forget the people I love, and I won't forget myself. Today and everyday, liberty was intended for everyone.

"When you know your worth, no one can make you feel worthless."

DOMA Rally at the Boston City Hall Plaza 3/26/13

Breathing Phoenix - Reincarnated (revised)

2013-02-06T07:13:00.002-08:00

(I decided that the poem needed further work after my first edit, feel free to comment on the two! NOTE: This poem was written/revised for One Billion Rising. Read original Breathing Phoenix here if you wish)

After your invasion,

I thought that I would break.

Me and my big old heart,

what would be left, once I got back up?

Those words were never uttered aloud

but I heard them in the quieted reflections and

muttered memories like amplified whispers.

Sure, I've learned a thing or two about pain

over the years since the terror of your shame.

I lost my innocence on a fateful day, that remains

a distant memory, despite the demise.

I encountered a darkness I had never seen when

I faced the demons incited by you.

But I've learned a thing or two about me as well,

about what is inside me, beyond what you can tell

beyond what others see, or can even hear

underneath my heartbeat, underneath my chest.

Outside of my bleeding heart, yet holding it close.

It pushes me to stand, when my heart wants to rest.

It gets me out of bed, when I want to shut the world out.

It gives me back my smile, when I struggle with my fears.

It encourages me to do my best, when I feel beaten down.

It gives me comfort when I need it the most,

and it understands when my anger roasts me.

It picks me up when I've lost my ground,

and gives me faith far beyond what is "sound."

It's the fire that feeds me when my body runs cold,

and it's the mist that cools me when my passion burns.

It's the reason I stand, and permits me to stand down.

It fuels me when I lose my will, and shows me how to stop when I've had my fill.

It's the reason I'm alive; despite what I do, how much I get hurt

or how much I've been through.

It's stronger than my intuition and even my heart

the spirit inside me will never die.

(My inspiration for this revision)

Breathing Phoenix (Reincarnated)

2013-01-17T08:11:00.000-08:00

(I was recently invited to speak for One Billion Rising, and while looking through material I was inspired to reinterpret this piece, as it seems to have taken new meaning in my life over the years, with new vision and growth having occurred since I wrote it. Feel free to share your thoughts!)

After the invasion,
I thought that I would break.
Me and my big old heart,
what would be left, once I could get back up?
No one ever uttered those words aloud
but I heard them in the quieted tones and the
muttered glances like amplified whispers.

Sure, I've learned a thing or two about pain
over the years since your shame.
I lost my innocence on a fateful day, that remains
a distant memory, despite the demise.
I encountered a darkness I had never seen when
I faced the demons incited by you.

But I've learned a thing or two about me as well,
about what is inside me, beyond what you can tell
beyond what others see, or can even hear
underneath my heartbeat, underneath my chest.
Outside of my bleeding heart, yet holding it close.
It pushes me to stand, when my heart wants to rest.
It gets me out of bed, when I want to shut the world out.
It gives me back my smile, when I struggle with my fears.
It encourages me to do my best, when I feel beaten down.
It gives me comfort when I need it the most,
and it understands when my anger roasts me.
It picks me up when I've lost my ground, and
and gives me faith far beyond what is "sound."
It's the fire that feeds me when my body runs cold,
and it's the mist that cools me when my passion burns.

It's the reason I stand, and permits me to stand down.
It fuels me when I lose my will, and shows me how to stop when I've had my fill.
It's the reason I'm alive; despite what I do, how much I get hurt
or how much I've been through.
It's stronger than my intuition and even my heart
the spirit inside me will never die.