burn baby burn

I ate

While full of hate

And ended up

With a stomach ache.

J's dad is playing games again. I need to write a letter and burn it. Now.

Notice the double hearts - the burning letter and the fire. Cool!

ashes to ashes

Everyone in the area - very agricultural - is burning this weekend. The air is hazy and heavy. Although the weather is gorgeous - sunny, warm, with a light breeze. I decided to join in with a daytime burn of my own. Tried writing a letter to burn last night and this morning, but was just too weak from this cold-thing I have to hold the pen. While transfering laundry from the washer to the dryer - when you're a mom it doesn't matter how you're feeling, the chores still have to be done - I was shaking out the clothes so they wouldn't get too wrinkled, like T had taught me. The anger came back. It's been two weeks of silence - nothing from him, doesn't answer when I call, doesn't call back, no response to e-mails. It's not like I'm stalking him or leaving sad sack messages. I just would like to hear from him that he's okay and what exactly is going on. It does not settle with me to be told how much he cares for me and then two hours later be cut out of his life. "Sweetheart, I'll call you back in fifteen minutes...." If nothing else, it is extremely disrespectful to leave anyone hanging. Doesn't matter. I wrote my letter. One of letting go and release. No more. Burn.

 Let go. Let go. Let go.

Release. Release. Release.

burning question

I'm back to writing and burning letters. For the last couple of weeks, I have been holding onto my anger - wrapping it around me like a blanket of protection. Without the anger, I was afraid I would crumble into a ball of sorrow. I am no longer in danger of crumbling. I have been shored up. I am still angry, though. I feel in so many cases lately, I have been tossed around like a ragdoll on the whims of men's egos. So many hurts. Of course, I've let them do it to me. No more.

Tonight I wrote a letter to T. He is the man who came to and stayed on the island by sheer will. He is the man who promised to protect us and stand by our side through thick and thin. He is the man who disappeared in the night without a word.

I surprised myself. Didn't quite realize just how much hurt and disappointment was within me. Ended up writing three pages. That's quite a bit of venom. Burned the letter in my bowl, on the back porch, with Giovanni and Joy watching through the screen. It was quite a show.

I was down to the last match in my tin. I never expected I would be using the last match on T.

Be well, T. I thoroughly enjoyed every minute with you. I hope you find what you are looking for.

burn baby burn

I've been feeling out of sorts lately - since Christmas. Part of it is feeling everyone else's energetic let down after the holidays. Part of it is my own. I feel angry. I feel lost. I feel unloved and unlovable. I feel ugly. I feel hopeless. I don't like holding these feelings. I am not fully available to my daughter, to my art, to my life. I have been grounding and breathing. While it helps, the feelings of despair and anxiety remain. I know when I am in this energy, it affects what comes to me. People disappear. Opportunities vanish. I am unapproachable. So tonight I wrote a letter to burn. The only problem was I didn't know who to write it to. Who am I angry with? Where does the sorrow and disappointment lie?

It's all on me. So I wrote the letter to myself. A letter full of disappointment and disillusionment. All on me.

Burn baby burn.

 

Release. Release. Release.

release

I don't know why I haven't been doing this all my life. It's not like no one has ever told me about it. I just always figured I knew what would work best for me. Hah! After bb left the island the first time and I was curled up in a ball on the floor crying my eyes out in grief, I had a session with my friend and energy healer, Joyce. A beautiful and amazing and magical woman. She finally convinced me to write a letter and burn it. Release. Release. Release. Desperate for any solution which would help bring me back to center, I went home and wrote and wrote and wrote out all my sorrow and grief and disappointment. Then I burned the letter. I had more trouble getting that letter to burn. I think I lost the power of the release in the frustration of getting it to burn! But finally it did burn to ashes. I little bit later I realized I felt better. Not great, but better. Then I started to feel angry - really, really angry. So I wrote another letter. Over the course of the next couple of weeks I wrote at least one letter a day. Most to bb, but not all. It is amazing how cathargic the process and ceremony is.

Tonight I wrote another letter to bb - this time when he left the island he not only took my heart, but also my self-respect. Probably won't be my last letter to him. I was going to write a blog post instead of the letter and then thought better of it. I didn't need to release all that bile and fear and sadness into the world. I began the letter in anger which turned into tears and ended in laughter. For the gift rained down on me and into my heart: we are old friends from many lifetimes and this is just one more twist in the journey. All's well - if I can hold onto the gift!

Graycee and I went outside in the rain and found my burning bowl. Brought it up to the porch and performed the ritual. There is something extra-powerful and special about having a cat weaving around your legs, adding his love and wisdom and strength. It wasn't until I was back inside the warm house that I realized that the matches I always use for the ritual are housed in a tin with the word LOVE engraved in it. How appropriate is that!!!