Essays

Normal Isn't Natural (An Essay)

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It’s not natural to be overweight.

It demonstrates (and further creates) imbalance.

It’s not natural to live in poverty.

It demonstrates (and further creates) imbalance.

It’s not natural to be in perpetual pain.

It demonstrates (and further creates) imbalance.

It’s not natural to be mentally ill.

It demonstrates (and further creates) imbalance.

It’s not natural to be sedentary / immobile.

It demonstrates (and further creates) imbalance.

It’s not natural to be addicted.

It demonstrates (and further creates) imbalance.

Just because it’s normal and normalized…

Just because we can (and do) adapt to every dysfunction…

Living in a state of perpetual compensation is not a natural way to be.

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Lily: “It might be not natural but unless you're a fat person this may come out as fatphobic. Because body diversity exists and is not a choice. Not everyone has the privilege to live in a mid-size body.”

Me: “I’m not worried about coming across as fatphobic.”

To add, she admits it’s not natural (the only thing I said about being overweight), but my impersonal / accurate / non-judgemental / matter-of-fact statement won’t pass the vibe check because of my size? Humans are so silly.

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Eat The Poison If You Want To (An Essay)

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You can eat whatever you want without ‘negative’ consequences…

when you exist in truth.

But most people don’t.

Much, if not all, of their life is a compensation.

Therefore, so is their eating.

Eating to soothe.

To control.

To get.

To lose.

To fill what’s empty.

When it’s not even their tummy.

That’s not living in truth.

That’s not being in charge of your food.

It’s the food leading you.

Oh, boy.

It’s your need to compensate that makes you a slave to the external.

In this case, food.

So yes,

theoretically you can eat whatever you want when you live in truth,

without any adverse consequences.

Just like that guru I heard about decades ago who took a hit of acid and was unaffected by it because he was energetically more potent than the chemicals.

He didn’t even go on a trip.

But almost no one exists at such a level where they could consume acid, or whatever the fuck any have their system, and be completely unaffected.

Truth overrides all things, yes.

But again, most people don’t choose, and live from, truth.

They choose from compensation.

And people who choose to live from truth don’t need or desire to consume a specific thing just to prove they can.

“Lemme drink some of this bleach to show you how unaffected I am.”

No.

Truth-living isn’t about self-poisoning.

But if ‘poison’ was consumed,

they wouldn’t notice.

It would neutralize.

Their system would self-correct.

Naturally.

Or at the very least,

they’d take the steps to clean it out.

And return to purity once again.

Or they’d croak.

Who knows.

Circle of life and all that.

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No Offence But You're Insane (An Essay)

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If you’re human, you’re mentally ill.

You don’t need a diagnosis to prove that.

Just look what goes on inside your mind.

If every bit of it was projected onto a screen for you and others to read 24/7,

you’d see that you’re insane.

Not truly.

But mentally.

Disordered.

Not coherent.

And…

coherence is still the baseline.

It’s the undercurrent of all things.

And the noise of the mind is just that.

Noise.

And…

the noise is not who you are.

It’s just what’s going on above the stillness.

And…

the noise itself is not a problem.

Identifying with the noise IS.

Believing the noise is who you are IS.

Being taken on that insane ride to crazytown whenever the noise takes over IS.

And of course, none of it is really a problem at all.

It’s just what IS.

For now.

And…

sanity IS an option.

By seeing that the noise is only noise.

Regardless of what it contains.

And that you are the one who listens.

The peace beneath the noise.

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I Dreamed I Was A Daughter Of The Moon

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I asked him, "What am I?"

He said I was a moth.

I asked him why I couldn't be a butterfly (I had always been a butterfly), but he said he didn't know.

I desperately wanted to make love to him, and I wanted to be made love to.

But he was a human and I was a moth.

A strange and frustrating thing.

So I hovered and fluttered around his neck as he led me up the stairs, and when he felt my winged kisses, he, too, was aroused.

He knew I was trespassing.

I knew he was forbidden.

I wasn't allowed to join him here, and not in this way, to be sure.

But these were not our rules.

They were not of our making.

Least of all, sane.

These rules belonged to the others.

The dim and unaware.

They did not apply to those whose sights transcended their limits.

They did not apply to creatures like he and I.

Our connection was strong.

Tenderly overwhelming.

We were destined to merge.

Our goal: become one.

And being that he was already a part of that world, while secretly being a part of mine, he cared enough to take me where I didn't belong.

He was privy to the path.

They'd never suspect a thing.

They'd only suspect me - the moth - a tender loving thing.

He looked like the others but to them, I was strange.

For being what I was.

For wanting what I want.

For going where they would not dare.

But he understood.

I only wanted to go higher.

I wanted to know more.

And I wanted him in his entirety.

He did not question my intentions.

He knew they were pure.

He did not question our differences because he knew we were the same.

He knew what I was, and what I was, was his.

He knew better than to hinder what he, too, desired for himself.

He conspired to make it happen.

And what mattered most is that he let me love him.

Let me touch him.

Let me follow this wild dream.

And I could not have been more grateful.

After holding back for what felt like an eternity,

with the whole universe pulsating within me,

I had nowhere to go but beyond all I'd ever known.

I desired him with a vengeance.

To devour every bit that I could.

I hungered for our union before reality woke us up.

Small as I was, my presence was known and felt.

My being was needed and craved.

And my touch turned him into mine as I sought to taste the places where he'd feel me the most deeply.

He, the human.

Me, the moth.

We, the illuminated.

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Originally written and publicly shared in 2016.

And yes, this was an actual dream I had about a fellow at the time.

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The Noise Within The One (An Essay)

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There is the ‘me’ (and the ‘you’) that dips into illusion / delusion / perceived separation / a temporary state of fear and insanity (looking at life / self / others through the limited / distorted human lens).

And the ME (and the YOU) that exists in actual reality.

In sanity / union / peace / clarity / purity / potent power.

In REAL love (not the human kind).

With nothing in the way.

It’s not one or the other though.

The other is part of THE ONE.

That noisy ‘me’ is part of ME.

That noisy ‘you’ — part of YOU.

Every part is part of THE EVERYTHING.

So it belongs and it’s not wrong.

It’s here to be seen and then seen through, of course.

Until it’s quiet once again.

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Nothing Is Wrong (An Essay)

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Nothing is intrinsically ‘wrong’.

Never has been.

Never will be.

Not with you.

Not with life.

Not with the moment.

Not with the other.

THAT is the starting point.

And…

that acceptance of what is as it is right now,

without a skewed lens applied to it,

doesn’t mean you condone a thing.

And it doesn’t mean you passively participate in life because ‘it is what it is’, either.

It just means you see clearly and you move accordingly without the internal resistance to what is.

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How Wars Begin (An Essay)

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The ‘state of the world’ is an accurate and perfect out-picturing of the individual’s war within.

So to be surprised by anything going on ‘out there’, especially when you’ve yet to contend with what’s going on ‘in here’, is kind of silly.

How could you expect or want peace in the world if you can’t even generate it inside yourself?

It starts and ends with you, boo.

It starts and ends with me, too.

But also,

there is no start and there is no end.

There is only what IS for infinity.

And if you are fighting the is-ness of life,

of yourself,

or even another,

then…

you understand implicitly

exactly how wars begin.

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Going Beyond Narcissism (An Essay)

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I haven’t actually counted, but I’m sure I’ve watched thousands of videos on narcissism over the past year and a half.

I find it absolutely fascinating.

Not just the subject itself, but the way it’s viewed and portrayed, and the way that content creators parrot one another, offering the exact same ‘solutions’ and conclusions —

but never actually going beyond the generic ‘victim’ / ‘abuser’ lens.

Dr. Ramani, for example.

The most generic one of all.

She still considers herself a victim.

Still blames her ‘abusers’.

Still has yet to take full responsibility for herself.

Which is perfect for those who only want to go that far.

But there is more in the beyond.

And Professor Sam Vaknin.

The one whom I adore.

The first of so much in the study of narcissism.

So perfectly and beautifully articulating the torturous binds of these hellish dynamics.

But still,

not going beyond.

He shares openly about his intimate partnerships and the ‘role’ he plays within them, accepting his fate as it were, because of his psychological (non) state.

Telling himself and his viewers there is no hope for him or others like him.

And there isn’t, of course.

Until they go beyond.

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Madelain: “There’s always a way back. I agree with you.”

Francesqua: “It's a fascinating paradox that Sam presents. You need a self to go beyond and narcissists don't have one.”

Me: “Yes. And… the beyond is also free of the self. It’s just not a compensation.”

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Read Sam’s gorgeous piece on Narcs and Borderlines

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Don't Get Tricked By The Flashing Lights (An Essay)

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“We’ve only just begun.”

“Now more than ever…”

“In these challenging times…”

No.

The same shit has been going on, and will continue to go on, for eons.

There is nothing new or groundbreaking or ‘worse than before’ happening.

Except to you / your mind / that mission-based and externals-believing self.

The ‘new’ that you perceive is your own increased awareness.

The lens getting clearer.

You’re seeing through more and more and it feels revolutionary,

(and you position it as such)

but it’s not.

It just is.

And it was before you,

and it will be after you.

The truth has been here this whole time.

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The Energetics of Dysfunction (An Essay)

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When you deliberately play at the energetic level,

when you see beyond the veil and make your moves from there,

you have the ability to look at all things / situations / dynamics retroactively - before you caught on to what you always knew - and you understand exactly what was going on.

You can pinpoint exactly when and why you or another deviated from truth, and the natural / inevitable consequences of that choice.

Everything just makes sense.

And when you ‘get’ the ‘energetics of dysfunction’ as it were,

that generate and and keep any toxic / twisted system / dynamic in place,

(which at the most fundamental level is just the deviation from truth)

you can no longer be surprised by anything that happens in the world / between humans / at an individual level.

Because it’s all the same.

And it’s a given that things would unfold exactly as they did and do,

based on the black and whiteness of energetic truth.

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Clean + Dirty Narc (An Essay)

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The ‘narcissist’ is the inversion of truth.

They are a void.

But not a clean one.

The void is compensatory.

They don’t care about you.

But not in a clean way.

The lack of care is compensatory.

They are selfish.

But not in a clean way.

The selfishness is compensatory.

They use things and others.

But not in a clean way.

Their using is compensatory.

And…

when someone IS a clean void

when someone truly doesn’t care (about illusions / matter / appearances / the false, self-victimized you)

when someone IS ‘selfish’ (self-sourced / unwavering / in energetic integrity / true move-making, regardless of others)

when someone uses ALL things and people (to sharpen, to erect, to deepen and purify)

they appear narcissistic

to those still bound by themselves

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The Beautiful Thing About Narcissistic Abuse (An Essay)

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The beautiful thing about ‘narcissistic abuse’…

(hear me out - and quotation marks because on the deepest level it’s not abuse of any kind - it’s a self-generated invitation to MORE)

is that it fundamentally changes you.

In that it propels you even more deeply and fully into YOU.

Into your power.

Into actual truth.

If that’s what you choose.

Stripping you of all the illusions / delusions that once brought and kept you dancing with the devil at the expense of yourself —

a choice you actively made.

The ‘narcissist’ wasn’t your kryptonite.

They didn’t hold any real power to derail you or your life.

It was everything that surfaced through your dance with them that was truly holding you back.

* that part *

And it was there looooooong before you two ever met.

The ‘narcissist’ was just the vehicle through which you could see your blind spots more clearly and if you were up for it — correct them accordingly.

This so-called monster was nothing more than an interchangeable player in your game because let’s face it…

If it wasn’t THAT ‘narc’ it would be another ‘narc’ until you learned what you needed to learn.

Until YOU changed.

Not them.

Because it was never about them.

And what they did or didn’t do was never about you, either.

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Welcome The Narc (An Essay)

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You’d be much better off viewing the presence of a ‘narcissist’ in your life as a good thing.

A great thing, in fact.

Especially if they’re still ruffling your feathers.

They are here to show you yourself.

To show you precisely where you’ve veered from who you are and where you’ve yet to stand in your power.

(Your pretty feathers couldn’t get ruffled by an energetic toddler otherwise)

They are the messenger - and a powerful one at that - brought into your life by YOU, my friend,

to bring all of your shit to the surface

to be trampled on even more

until you’re forced and ready to do your work.

They aren’t the villain.

They simply exposed you — to you.

They electrified you.

Crucified you.

Which then erected you to your natural state.

So let a ‘thank you’ follow the ‘fuck you.’

If it weren’t for them,

these devilish friends,

you’d still be (energetically) weak.

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A Mighty Fine Loss (An Essay)

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If you weren’t trying to outsource from another what you can only provide for yourself,

you would not have ended up in something that hurts you.

You would not feel betrayed.

Or believe yourself to be a victim.

The good news is that the part that hurts isn’t the real you anyways.

The pain is from the illusion / attachment being shattered (as it should be and needed to be).

And from facing the reality that only you can ‘save’ yourself (come into full power) — instead of depending on someone or something else to enable and feed your (perceived) powerlessness.

‘Losing’ the delusion that someone else is responsible for how you feel, for where you are, for what you chose / choose, for what comes next…

is a mighty fine ‘loss’ and the greatest gift of all.

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The Internal Holocaust (An Essay)

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What was brought to the surface through the internal holocaust that is ‘narcissistic abuse’…

was already buried deep inside of you before this creature appeared.

That vacuous energy,

that disordered little ghost,

the one that had you spinning out of control…

held no real power or ability to generate a thing inside of you;

let alone something brand new.

Its existence in your field simply provided the exact configuration to rattle the cage you were already in.

And its mission was to do that until you finally let yourself out.

The ‘narcissist’ didn’t put or keep you there.

You were being shown precisely where you were already.

In a cage you had built yourself.

You were being faced with a level of density you’d been contending with all your life; albeit unconsciously, through the one(s) you chose to dance with as you died to each (illusory) piece.

If anything, you had entered a house of mirrors.

Waging a war with what you thought was ‘out there’.

But in reality,

the war,

and the hell,

was (already) within.

Perfectly out-pictured through ‘abuse’.

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