Makin Moves

Twisted Sticky Shit (An Essay)

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You can’t have an expectation / demand / condition for how or when another person should behave for or in response to you…

and call that love.

You can’t point to what you’ve done for them (gross) in comparison to what you think they’ve yet to reciprocate (eww) as a way to justify why they should now perform / abandon / contort themselves for you like you clearly did for them (why else would you be keeping score)…

and call that love.

That’s manipulation.

Control.

Twisted, sticky, icky shit.

If it’s not given freely,

truthfully,

lovingly,

unconditionally…

why would you even want it?

You’d rather a performance than the real deal?

You’d rather have it the way your ego scripted it than the way it actually is?

You’d rather another do for you what you’re not willing to do for yourself?

Absurd.

People can move and exist as they wish.

You’re free to do the same.

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Filling In Another's Perceived Gaps (An Essay)

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You only try to fill in the (perceived) gaps for another when you forget that they are sovereign, just like you.

And you can only forget another’s sovereignty when you have forgotten your own (cue a false sense of superiority) which is the only reason you’d ever feel the need to over-reach in the first place.

Your discomfort with where another is choosing to be at (yes, choosing — there are no victims and no one needs saving) generates your over-extension in an attempt to relieve yourself of said discomfort which actually has nothing to do with what the other is or isn’t doing / seeing / getting in that moment.

This is what feeds your desire to change / correct what’s being presented to whatever you deem ‘better’ / more ‘evolved’ than what they’re currently choosing for themselves,

which inevitably breeds resistance and stagnation; not clarity and movement, because the energy of your so-called help is tainted aka sourced from a false premise to begin with.

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The Thread That Never Breaks (An Essay)

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It’s not about me doing whatever I want, whenever I want (and it is).

Just blindly and haphazardly doing whatever I feel like, as if my existence is, and my moves are, at the whim of these ever-changing feelings and superficial desires.

No.

It’s about doing what I know needs to be done, based on my own internal commands (the innate brilliance of my being) regardless of how I feel or how it appears, and even when I don’t understand why I’m doing or not doing it.

Which one might assume takes effort since listening and obeying is foreign to most.

But when your true devotion is to the inner whisper that reconfigures itself in each moment, it doesn’t feel like effort.

It’s a given.

There is no other way.

It would take effort (and be impossible) for me to deviate from what’s actually required of me in a moment just to settle for what’s preferred.

And,

I don’t prefer less than what’s required.

So in that sense, yes, I do whatever I want, whenever I want.

Because what I want is to live and move from the core of myself with an exacting level of integrity.

Which can appear inconsistent on the outside because the consistency (and the priority) is within.

It is a thread that never breaks.

And the reason I move as I do.

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Walkie Talkie (An Essay)

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“You’re the only person I know who walks their talk. Completely.”

The result of doing the work.

Not just sometimes.

All the time.

With everything and everyone.

I’m relentless when it comes to my game and those I choose to play with.

Exceptions aren’t made.

Least of all for those I’m closest to.

Because doing the work and living in truth is the most loving thing I can do.

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Relationships Don't Need Work (An Essay)

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Relationships don’t need to be ‘worked on’.

Unless it’s the one with yourself.

Nor do they require any level of sacrifice.

Unless you’re sacrificing what’s false.

It’s not necessary.

Or energetically sound.

The vibe of trying,

reaching,

abandoning

(even just a little)

for or because of another…

kills the potency (and purity) that makes every dynamic thrive.

‘Working on’ the relationship by focusing on and considering the other, instead of tending to your own lane and operating from there, inevitably creates an energetically limp (attached / codependent / diluted) experience for both parties, despite how intense this dysfunctional bond might feel.

It’s a poor facsimile of the fire you actually crave that only comes from never leaving home.

From working on THIS; not that.

Because THIS is all there is and that will adjust accordingly.

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Diving In Unobstructed (An Essay)

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The thing about being energetically erect and intact (one’s natural state), and not playing (making moves) unless and until it’s still, is that it perfectly fucks with whatever matter I’m currently holding on to.

The exact shit that’s here to be burned by the fire of ME.

It also perfectly fucks with the shit of whoever I’m playing with.

If there are any strings of attachment (hoping / waiting / needing / trying / expecting / victimizing / or whatever other bullshit that needs to go), I don’t touch it.

But if I feel turned on despite and because of the matter, it means that it’s ready to get fucked with and I’m the bitch to do it.

So I play where it’s most alive.

Where I sense no limits, no restrictions, no actual end in sight.

Just a wide-open space to dive into unobstructed.

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His Moves Are Not My Business (An Essay)

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Months ago while telling a friend about a moment with the fella that I was a HELL NAW to, she asked if I help a guy to shift the things that I’m not into, or if I just end things because of it.

My response:

I only do what the moment requires of me.

Whatever that may be.

Me making my true move does exactly what needs to be done.

Across the board.

With everyone.

I dropped deal breakers / boundaries / standards long ago.

They aren’t necessary.

And no, I don’t ‘help’ the fella shift his shit because that, too, is unnecessary.

He’s grown.

And his moves are not my business.

He can be however he wants to be.

I’ll make my moves accordingly.

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