(from the vault: written while studying at the Wigmore Institute, February 2008)
this is the standard i have set for myself
it wasn't always this way. in the beginning of the True Love Project,
i thought i was so cool
& it was all about seduction. i thought i was really good at falling in love with people & people seemed to be really into falling in love with me. it was a natural talent, like having perfect pitch or having the potential to be a ballerina or an olympic swimmer . . not necessarily guaranteeing automatic success, but teetering often on the brink of spontaneous combustion, just waiting for a match to light the forest fire
that kind of love, seduction, is really about control
even if we are madly attracted to someone, even if it feels as if the chemistry between us offers no alternative. it is about spinning a web to lure the object of your affection. it is about managing the other, wrangling. it needn't be malicious or predatory but it is an action towards rather than a being with, and something to be aware of, especially if you are an olympic level seductress. i learned the hard way. i still love seduction but i need to be very clear what i am looking for when i engage in it. be present. it is astounding how often anger lies behind seduction or any number of other agendas that have nothing to do with the seductee . . . more about that later in the seduction section of the love artist manual (coming very soon)
but anger yes, anger i can discuss here – actually, these days there is hardly a moment where anger is not an appropriate subject. i don't mean to sound naïve but when i decided to take these three months to live in paradise & mainline wheatgrass & come face to face with my light body, i didn't expect to be wading hip deep in resentments. i know it's all about the clean colon here at Wigmore & that a clean colon means getting into every last crevice & clearing out every last piece of ancient piece of shit (literally) but i was very optimistic &, i guess, deluded when i thought i came here rather clean to begin with. i don't know what i was thinking, arriving after a semi-hellish breakup with a raw nerve for a heart (and that was just the top & most present layer, or the first two weeks, of my detox)
now we are 7 weeks deep in the shit sanctum, where even the brave fear to tread
they say, courage is fear holding on a moment longer
& i'm here for the long haul so I guess i am brave. at this point i am so far inside the dark cave of my psyche, i'm beginning to think, perhaps foolishly, that the light on the end of the tunnel i'm heading towards is much closer than the one i left from
we'll see
i started here by saying i thought i was a shitty love artist & i guess that is true, i am looking through the shit for the gold & i left squeamishness aside long ago. i am cranky & moody but i am not afraid, i am in it. i was worrying too much about what other people thought ~ when you call yourself The Love Artist out loud day in and day out you run the risk (often) of people saying "I just don't see the love" or
"show me."
i've been so angry lately. it's just what's up. i still show up & i am toiling out here in the love fields. it's easy to love when everybody is smiling and there to serve you, when everyone's bright and shiny and thinks you're bright and shiny too. but really, who wants to show up when it's pouring rain & there's no shelter, when you wake up & every situation that presents itself is one of either intense humility or unyielding boundaries AND you still have the daily practice you committed to in the face of god, of osmosis, compassion & becoming one, you gotta do it cause you gave your word & that is true love and that is true love art
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