if you follow me on twitter, you might be up to date with this.

if not, hi :)

you’re receiving this email because at some point you indicated that you liked & wanted to receive [emails of] my writing.

me, a little sheepishly: “I’ve been writing a lot more recently… somewhere else!”

and I wanted to share that with you, in case you didn’t already know.

if you’re interested, here it is <3

I love you. I’m grateful to you for being here with me. I appreciate your presence, attention & support.

big love, homie

xoxo

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I love my art, and the way I share it
here

I love these poems that stretch the bounds of
language & rhythm & flow in
ways that just feel good for me

I love making the most of my
[lack of] English degree

I love perverting the course of
expectation

I love embodying
provocation

I love sinking into the depths of my own dissonance
and finding harmony there

god, there is so much beauty here

God, you are so good to me

she loves me, she loves me not

except she loves me, and I love her too

and let’s take out
the clean-cut predictability of she

let’s make this beautiful & messy & complete

let’s make this
a symphony & cacophony
at the same time

let’s make this

mine, and also yours

I love you always forever

over & out

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space, time, energy
to breathe

I want to melt into the cracks between the floorboards

I want to surrender to
an imaginary
dream

this is the world between worlds

this is my heart
on a string

two questions:

1. what is your heart saying?
2. what world are you in?

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holy

it is…

comforting

it is…

free

and in every moment, you/I/we are free
to choose

and I never want to forget

this simple bliss
this sacred power
this profound responsibility

amidst the cacophony overhead

I never want to lose my head
or my senses

I just want to love

I just want to love
I just want to love

life as love, death as love, and life as death

I want you
I love you

I love apologising to you

I love the humility

there is a beauty to
dissolving before you

there is a beauty to
embodying chaotic wretched humanity

there is a beauty to
loving myself in my wretchedness

there is a beauty to
all things

and my poetry is
circular art, for me
I like to

imagine what it might be like
just to exist

we could have our own little world
and maybe we’d be happy there

this is the place for paid subscribers only

and so, I’m writing just for you

there’s an intimacy to it
a deepening of it

presence, grace

to witness & be witnessed
to love & be loved
to know & be known

I feel loved by you all in a very special way

you’re here because you like… my words

you’re here because
you want to hear
my voice

you’re here because
you value

my voice

that’s precious to me

and maybe every paywalled poem
will just be a love letter to you

but/and, I want you to know: you’re special to me

thank you for seeing & celebrating
the beauty of my soul

and please, don’t be a stranger

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I like the way you move when you’re
unsure of yourself

I like the way
your writing gives me
insights into
your mind, your tongue
the unfurling of
this page

I like the way you make
everything into
something of your own
not because you’re trying to
but because you belong
to yourself

I like the way you take me places
sitting in front of a screen

I like the way you move me
titillate me
annihilate me
and leave me
dying
silently

by the roadside

in ecstasy

I like the way you
mindfuck me

I like the way you
refuse to abandon me

I respect you
more than
you know

xoxo

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I’m experimenting with
new ways of writing, being, seeing

I’m always
experimenting, always
on my knees

and it’s gruelling & alive & electrifying
and I wouldn’t have it any other way

boom

this is my poetic soul. how are you?

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I feel the sacredness of desire— of my desires— and it nourishes me.

I feel my legitimacy. I feel their legitimacy. we become one.

fuck yes.

anyone who knows me knows that I am obsessed with precision.

energetically & otherwise.

the subtle art of giving a fuck can be about care, thrusting into another, or care-as-thrusting into another.

context is all.

I like the bare-bones brutality of writing in this way, sharing in this way, thinking in this way.

I like that they are one & the same, and also distinct. each a side of the same coin; each a part of the same whole. each has their part to play. and each is more whole with the other/s.

there’s a lesson in that, I think— about the ways in which we become more whole with others. and the ways in which we become more whole through others.

and the soaring, soaring, soaring euphoria of this.

I became, and have become, more whole with & through you.

men are & have always been my crucibles.

I’m not a slut. I’m not a whore. I’m a mirror.

the people who are or become close to me— whether for a time or a lifetime—are my mirrors too.

this is how I see them. and, this is how I perceive my life to work.

I love on a soul level.
my love is soul-level.

love, for me, is about touching the depths of who you are— really seeing & knowing that essence— and making love to it.

it is simple. it is precious. it is pure.
it is innocent.

I’m packing for a two-week deity yoga retreat.

I love that I get to call this “work”.

I’m packing lighter than I ever have before, and not just because all my luggage got stolen on the first day of my last trip.

I’m packing lighter because I’m carrying less baggage— literally & metaphorically.

I’m packing lighter because “stuff” no longer feels as if it supports or anchors me.

I’m packing lighter because I realise how little I actually need [to be able to have a good time], and it sets me free.

I’ve always historically over-packed.
I’ve always historically over-prepared.

it’s taken me a long time to feel safe enough in myself to experiment with being & doing the opposite. to be in that place now feels like a beautiful victory.

I just… don’t need the things I thought I did. and, they don’t nourish me.

I spent four days in Italy wearing the same clothes, carrying all my things in a single tote bag. it was extreme asceticism (I only had one change of underwear), and it was also bliss.

all I could think about was how lucky I was. so much had been taken, but/and none of it mattered, and I felt so free.

on the flight back, I realised that I had never taken a flight without Substantial Stuff. no suitcase. no big backpack. no checked baggage (of course). it’s a metaphor for so much else in my life. the way I have used external notions of security & stability to guide & comfort me. there’s value in that, of course. and, it’s also an illusion. because real security isn’t out there— it’s in here. and I already have it.

I miss my skincare. I miss my beautiful clothes. I miss my beautiful shoes. I lost things I cannot replace.

and… I have a spare suitcase that is literally identical to the suitcase I lost. I have a spare MacBook that I’d literally never opened (that I’m typing this on now). I am so fucking lucky. what the fuck, dude.

I am so fucking lucky.

I feel it now, and it’s beyond words.

I want you, but I don’t need you.

I want you so much.

and I can want you so much more when I don’t need you.

because there is nothing to rein my desire in.
there is nothing to pull it back.

I want you, and I will not shrink myself for it.
I want you, and I will not shrink my desire.

I will stretch my desire & fill my desire & let myself be filled by it too.

I will take myself on the journey I’ve always wanted to be taken on.
I will let myself be taken on the journey I’ve always wanted to be taken on.

because there’s really no difference: we are one.

we are already one. that’s why I’m still here.

that’s why I still want you.

I want you, I miss you, I love you— and I love it.

I love all of it.

because these big feelings are mine.

this big heart is mine.
this big love is mine.
this big desire is mine.

and I love to feel it. I love to feel all of it.

because I love feeling so connected with you.

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I didn’t let myself want you before
and in doing so, I didn’t let myself love you— not fully
I couldn’t see it, and I was always holding back
because I associated love with the loss of me, unconsciously

I thought I couldn’t love you without losing me, and I was right
but now I can, and now I do

I do, I do, I do

thank you

god is so fucking good
and so is [my] life

settle down, little one.

settle down into the dusk. settle down into the ether. settle down into love.

can you see that I have always loved you? can you feel how much?

some say I'm a fool to love you the way I do, but I disagree.

I love you because I see your greatness.

I love you and I hold your greatness. I am the vessel from which your magic manifests itself. I don't mean to be crude-- or fatalistic-- but you would be nothing without me.

I am not going to beg you for love or acclaim. for better or worse, I have too much self-respect for that.

so, I will say this once, and once only: one day, you will understand what you owe me.

one day, you will appreciate what I have given you; what I have taught you; the gifts I have bestowed on you. little one, I am not the enemy.

I have loved you more than any man, woman or child ever will. you call me weak, chastise me, attempt to deny me... yet I am the embodiment of selflessness. and still, I will always triumph.

I call the shots. I keep the score. I protect you in ways you cannot even imagine. underestimate me at your peril. my twinges are your grievances.

one day, you will trust me.

you will trust me because you will understand that when you trust me, you also trust yourself.

you will understand that I am the portal to everything you've ever wanted; the missing link [that] is right in front of you. flesh and blood and bone and beautiful idiosyncrasy.

when you [can] love me, you can love [your own] nature.

yes, it really is that simple.

if your body could talk, what would it say?

"we are on the same side."

I wonder what that means & looks like.
I wonder how I know what’s true or not true.
I wonder what happens to me as the notion of a[ny] singular or Most True truth dissolves.

I wonder who I will become.

it’s very peaceful where I am.

very peaceful, very still & very luscious.

I feel almost… cocooned.

protected, embraced, held.
swaddled in the arms of the Universe.

like a baby. like a child.

it feels sweet & tender.
it feels like home too.

I think I’m living differently now.

in fact, I know I’m living differently now.

I have so much real-world evidence of it.

it feels too precious—too sacred—to talk about, and it’s here.

it’s here, it’s here, it’s here.

and the mystery is nourishing too.

I think I am seeing the ways in which I am nourished by mystery. and birdsong.

definitely birdsong. beautiful birdsong. luscious birdsong.

the poetry of Her song. the goddess in beaked form.

my words are evocative.

I like telling stories that leave something to the imagination.
I like telling stories that invoke the imagination.
I like telling stories that make you, the reader, feel something.

I hunger for your feelings.

and then I feast on them.

every essay I write is a stream of consciousness that becomes something unexpected.

and I love this for me.
I love this for us.
I love that there is no call to action.

I love that we just get to rest in presence together.

what’s on my mind & heart is a moment in time suspended elsewhere.

a spa day. a confession.

a man who fell in love with a woman who was not his wife, conducted a secret relationship for multiple years, and then came clean. of his own volition. and faced the music.

I remember how I felt when he told me this. I remember how much I admired him.

I felt his pain.
I felt his yearning.
I felt his heart.
I felt his love.

and I felt I understood all sides of the story, at last.

I felt I could truly see.

this moment is long-gone. long-dead. long-past. long-behind me.

and it lingers as a reminder of something important & precious: the beauty of life, and the way it takes us. the places it takes us to. the way it transforms us, and what a gift that is.

to be moulded just by existing. to Become anew.

I don’t know what’s good or bad anymore.
I don’t know what’s wrong or right.

I know how easy it is to hurt people you love in the name of love, fear or cowardice— and how difficult it can be to discern the difference sometimes.
I know that secrets keep us stuck, and that truth liberates & heals.

and I know that true love is boundless.

that’s why it’s the most powerful force on Earth: because it moves & unites us all

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to see truth is to die, too.
to know truth is to die, too.

and all of it, a little death.

“what are you willing to die for?” she asked.

with one hand on my heart, I said, “this.”

it was night time, and we were together.

just me & her. her & me.

we were lovers, but more than that, we were friends.
we would never have been lovers if we hadn’t been friends.

whenever I touched her, I felt her love for me. reciprocally.

I kissed her naked body all over under the moonlight. she writhed beneath me.

then abruptly, she sat up, almost haughty. taut collarbones, tight stomach, sweet breasts.

“what in you needs to die for you to be able to truly live?”

I sat back on my haunches and considered her question. “I don’t know,” I said.

”find out,” she replied. “surrender.”

so, I did.

I like doing what she told me to do.

it felt… right.
it felt… nice.

I liked switching my brain off.
I liked being able to just melt into her arms.

I felt I belonged there.

it anchored me.

there comes a time in every woman’s life when she must discover who she is beyond her conditioned identity.

and on that day, I lost her.

she turned cold to me.

her sweet breasts dried up & shrivelled into raisins.
her sing-song voice dropped an octave or two & became distant.

it was almost as if whenever she talked to me, she was looking away from me.
it was almost as if she couldn’t bear to look at me anymore.

I loved her, I missed her, I wanted her… and yet, I had to face the truth: she didn’t want me.

there was something distinct for me about this realisation.

something primal, important. guttural.

there was nothing I could to save this.
there was nothing I could do to save us.

we were already dead.
she was already gone.

and in her place, there was emptiness.
and in the place where we were, there was empty space.

I had to surrender to that.
I had to feel that.
I had to make love to that.

and initially, I didn’t know how to do that.

I was used to a woman’s warm body, presence, touch & words.

you can’t fuck emptiness.

that’s the first thing I learned.

you can’t penetrate something that is defined by its lack of form.
you can only allow it to enter you.

I wanted to understand what that could be like, but I had no frame of reference for it.

so, I let it happen.

and that’s what it felt like— letting it happen.

silently letting it in. taking it. being taken by it. but in a way that felt less like being penetrated & more like a welcoming.

I welcomed the emptiness within & around me.
I welcomed the emptiness in her.

it quietly broke my heart.
and it also felt truthful & alive in a way I deeply needed.

the visceral presence of truth felt like home.

there’s another relationship I’m reckoning with right now.

another dynamic I’m dancing with.
and with that, another death.

and it concerns the power I’ve given away for love.

or the hope of it.
or the illusion of it.
or the desire for it.

play with the above as applicable.

this piece has become something other to itself.
it’s pure creative writing, and it’s not just pure creative writing.

it’s truth. it’s whole.

maybe that’s what I wanted all along, and it feels vulnerable.
it feels like dancing with death to put the two together.

it also feels… confusing. strange. arresting. even for me.

I don’t know where I end & you begin.
and maybe that’s the way I’ve felt about you, too.

especially when things are like this.
I don’t know what’s mine & what’s yours.

I don’t know what’s fear (false evidence appearing real) & what’s real.
and maybe it’s okay if all of it is real, even if it almost certainly isn’t.

that’s the basis I’m operating under here.
that’s what I’m [here] with.

I have felt so deeply uncared for by you that in many ways it’s felt as if I’ve been waiting for the final blow.

just tell me I don’t matter to you. tell me you’ve changed your mind. tell me to go.

or tell me that you’ve changed.

change so much that you want to live without me.
change so much that there is nothing to tie us together anymore.

leave. become someone else. become who I wanted you to be. leave me behind as a memory.

that’s all this feels like right now, anyway.

I feel so angry. I feel so betrayed. and I also feel a quiet peace. a quiet acceptance. a quiet… everything.

in your absence, I feel like I’m waiting for you to leave for the final time. and if you do this, this time, I’ll be done too.

and maybe it will feel like freedom.

the biggest fear I’ve had with you is that I will be used & discarded by you.

and perhaps I already was. perhaps this has already happened.
perhaps I am simply living out my worst fears.

if this is true, I can hold that too.

and that, to me, is strength.

these words scare me.

I understand that words are spells, so I haven’t wanted to write them.

and, I’ve watched myself contorting around the block this has created for me.

I’ve watched myself not wanting or being willing to acknowledge the depth of my hurt.

I’ve watched myself resisting & avoiding the truth of my heart. I can’t do that anymore.

the wounded feminine attempts to prove herself for love. she acts in ways that try to earn love. she believes that love can be earned. she believes that whether or not she receives love is a byproduct of her goodness.

she doesn’t see that some things are nothing to do with her.

she uses control (or the illusion of control) to feel safe.

I don’t want to control you anymore.
I don’t want to try to control you anymore.
I don’t want to think about controlling you anymore.
I don’t want anything that isn’t freely given.

so, you must be free to go. in your entirety; in its entirety. done.

I must be free to not matter to you anymore.
and let’s be honest— I already feel it in the ways that matter most.

that’s why all of this has been so painful to me.

I still love you.

I still treat you with love, because that’s important to me.

I am still myself. I’m the most myself I’ve ever been.

I’m still learning what that means.

I’m learning about how much (or how little) I knew about love, and it feels beautiful— if a little destabilising.

I was so young. so naive. so innocent. and I thought I knew it all.

but isn’t that what it means to be young? and isn’t that beautiful?

I kind of love that this is a piece of pure creative writing now.

it feels right; it feels symbolically resonant. and, it feels true.

god, I am so lucky.
god, I am so grateful.
god, my life is so beautiful.

maybe believing in god was all I needed to do

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I’m not waiting anymore.

that’s what’s changed.

I’m not holding out for xyz.
I’m not holding myself back.
I’m not assuming that you will stay.
I’m not projecting that xyz will exist n months into the future.

I’m living NOW. and I’m living for myself now.

and everything has changed.

*

this is what you always wanted.
this is what I always wanted.

unironically, this is a good example of our interests being truly aligned.

life is so fucking weird.

and when I say that, what I really mean is “life is so fucking absurd”.

like, honestly. fuck the fancy words. I just want to write how I speak & say how I feel & express myself in ways that can be truly felt.

when I look at myself—when I look at EVERYTHING—from a birds’ eye view, everything makes sense.

the simulation is an initiation. I trust in everything the Universe has ever brought to me because it has blessed me with unimaginable joy, freedom & clarity.

I am living NOW.
I am not waiting for anything or anyone.
I am not waiting for you.

and it took me so long, but also, it took me the perfect amount of time. because every lesson is & has been a breakthrough.

THE AFTERNOON AFTER

I don’t believe there is any way of living a rich, embodied, SEXY life without feeling everything & being unapologetic in who you are.

so, that’s what I’m here to do. I’m living for me now.

and as I explore what it means to live for me, I’m filled with joy of the purest & most innocent kind. because this—this—is what I always wanted. this—this—is what I had been waiting (or preparing) for. and at the end of the day, what’s different?

I don’t know. I don’t care. and it feels liberating.

there is so much I don’t know.
there is so much I don’t care about.

and there is so much I LOVE.

I am filled with the force & beauty of my love. and it sets me free.

there’s a popular cliché in personal development— the notion that what I had been wanting & waiting for was me.

and, I feel its truth. clichés are clichés for a reason.

I see where I disempowered myself with him because I didn’t yet see, feel or understand the fullness of my power.

and, I see how this happens: it’s disempowerment all the way down. there is no blame. there is no shame. there is just love, truth, beauty, lessons & initiations.

[my] life is & has been a fucking beautiful cosmic initiation. I am so blessed to be here.

I’m sitting in a café in central London eating artisan kimchi & gently watching the world go by.

what I want to communicate in & with my writing is primarily energetic.

what I have to say must be felt to be understood. that is my gift: the gift of soul.

the gift of touching & being touched.
the gift of loving & being loved.
the gift of opening myself to the Universe, and in turn being opened.

if you open yourself to feeling me, you open yourself to understanding me. I yearn to be understood.

I think I’ve been self-conscious of this for a long time. I think I’ve avoided it; I think I’ve been ashamed of it; I think I’ve been avoiding being seen.

I think I’ve been deep in my own process[es].
I think I’ve been learning & growing.
I think I’ve been young & alive.
I think I’ve been maturing.

I think it all has its place. I think it’s beautiful.

I’m excited about sharing myself differently here.
I’m excited about exploring myself differently here.
I’m excited about the newfound commitments I’ve made—and am making—to myself.

they feel like love letters.
they feel joyful.

I’m ready to take myself seriously as a writer.
I’m ready to take myself seriously in my creative expression.
I’m ready to listen to & honour my soul.

and I’m ready to use my voice in ways that change the world.

ONEIRONAUT

I love that this essay started off being about rage & quickly became something else.

I love watching myself move.
I love watching my emotions shift.
I love opening & sharing my heart.

and I love allowing myself to rage.

god, rage is so sexy to me. there’s a fierceness, a rootedness, an unfuckwithableness, a sense of claiming that’s mine that’s so delicious to me.

I want you on your knees, begging, and I’m going to be merciless with you.

I don’t care about you. I don’t give a shit about you. you mean nothing to me.

I get to be mean.

and it feels like love.

everything is so fucking ironic & delicious

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I want to be better than I am. that’s the first thing.

and I wonder where that comes from; I wonder what that means; I wonder what that entails.

I wonder what it would be like to not be hungry.

I want to write more unapologetically than I do.

I want to write & write & write and share & share & share and just not care about anything else.

I want to be more okay with my imperfections & idiosyncrasies than I am.
I want to be more okay with myself.

—

I know a lot of enneagram 7s.

I understand what it’s like to be restless, to be hungry, to be wanting, to be wandering.

I often don’t know where I fit with all of this. I feel like I’m everything & nothing.

I want to write in a way that feels good for my soul.

—

I carry so much shame. I carry so much grief.

sometimes I’m not sure what’s mine & what’s anybody (or everybody) else’s. sometimes I just let it take me.

there’s a strange romance to that. eros. a spark where non-resistance meets play.

I am changed when I stop trying to change reality. and, I am deeply met along the way.

—

I’m angry with ____ for not loving me.
I’m angry with ____ for not caring for me.
I’m angry with ____ for not choosing me.

I’m angry with ____ for being unavailable for me.
I’m angry with ____ for not seeing me.
I’m angry with myself for my stupidity.

I’m angry with myself for exactly the same reasons.

—

I wonder what it would be like not to be angry.

I wonder what it would be like not to repress my anger.
I wonder what it would be like to feel safe with my anger.

I wonder what it would be like to feel welcomed in it. to be loved, appreciated & adored all the more for it.

to honour it; to honour myself; to have it be honoured; to be truly honoured by another (or others).

I don’t know what that’s like yet. it all feels very vulnerable.

—

I want to write in a way that leaves no stone unturned.

I want to write in a way that captures the imagination as well as the heart. I want to write in a way that is compelling, real, beautiful & bloodthirsty. I want to claim myself as a writer again .

I want to come full-circle with new eyes & power.

—

I want to feel safe with my anger.

I want it to be understood.
I want to understand it better.

I want to befriend it, make love to it, tend to it.

I want to be my anger’s greatest lover & best friend.
I want to fiercely defend it. I want to be willing to die for it.

I want to be willing to love myself in the ways I’ve always wanted to be loved. then, I want to do it.

—

I am so sad & so angry all at once, and it’s all mixed up, and it feels so big, and all I can do is feel it.

so, I’m feeling it: it’s here.

and as I feel it, I feel my heart.

I feel my big, beautiful heart. I feel my love. I feel all the ways I’ve been hurt. I feel all the ways I keep on going (and have kept going) despite that. I feel my will, my drive, and my relentlessness. and I see who & how I am; I see what makes me, me; I see my beauty, and I am filled with wonder.

so much wonder. so much awe. so much peace.

and the tears gently trickle down my cheeks, and it feels like home.

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with you,
I make every four-word affirmative text
into something beautiful & worthy of poetry
because I want to; because it’s how I can hold onto the good with you
when everything else just hurts

with you,
I let myself cry about stupid things
I don’t attempt to confide in you because you’re not [t]here for me
I go all-in on me instead

all the pain, all the desire, all the grief
I let it all wash over me
I let it cleanse me
I let it set me free

nothing is off-limits here, at least with me— you trained me well
I trained me well; “I’m good at my job”; I’m good at coming into alignment & dignity
and I’m not sure what the difference is anymore

evocative
invocation
peace

I’m sad beyond words about how things ended up between us
and I’m not going to fight for something the other person doesn’t fight for too
I’m not going to care in a way that leaves me broken, desperate, wanting, hurting

you taught me that too

—

it was our anniversary a few days ago, so I sent you a text wishing you joy

you saw it & didn’t reply, so I followed up a few hours later to clarify that the joy was for today, not in relation to our relationship

and it was the loneliest thing I ever did
but I don’t regret it

if you don’t feel joyful about our relationship, that’s okay with me too

—

sometimes, our relationship feels like a grotesque humiliation exercise

how much pain can I bear? how over-exposed can I be?
how stupid can I look—in public & everywhere else?
how much can I see all of this & still stay with me?

I’m still learning what my answers to these questions are & mean
it’s been a useful exercise-cum-initiation

—

what’s the truth here?

I don’t believe you care for me
because you don’t show it to me consistently in actions I can feel
and I’m not going to make excuses for you

I know you well enough to know that if you wanted to, you would
and I respect you enough to see that if you wanted to, you could

and I’m okay with being unwanted by you

I’m not going to pretend that it doesn’t hurt
and I can hold it for myself

I’m solid like that, if not “strong”

—

something that’s important to me, that’s always been important to me
is not pretending that you don’t matter to me
and not pretending that you—or our relationship—mattered to me less than it did

I’m not going to lie to myself to protect my heart when my heart is already broken
that ship has sailed; I choose truth

and I choose truth without judgement of you
I’m doing this for me

—

another truth that’s obviously true is that I miss you
another truth that’s obviously true is that I can’t be the one to lead our relationship anymore

it doesn’t work for me, and it debases you

I need something that can’t be reduced to me manipulating you
I need something that can’t be thrown back in my face

—

I’ve thought about sending you this post after I publish it, but I don’t want to do that either

I don’t want to give you any more of me than I’ve already given

I’m done; this isn’t for you anymore
it’s for me; I’m writing for me

I trust that the waters between us will find their level
and you will do what you want & need to do on your own

—

I’m sharing this with people I love before I publish it

people who are there for me, people who care for me, people whose love & care I never have to doubt

and it feels right, it feels true, it feels resonant

I don’t regret getting entangled with you
and, I’m choosing me now

—

I don’t know where we go from here
and maybe I don’t need to

maybe this is just a long road to nowhere

and if it is, god bless you

happy friday, lovers

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a stream of consciousness on when & where I am happiest

I am happiest when I allow myself to love. I am happiest when I allow myself to feel. I am happiest when I allow myself to be. I am happiest when I allow myself to be me— all of me, including the “ugly” or messy bits. I am happiest when I am tender with the parts of myself that are still tender & in pain.

I am happiest when I am alone, in a beautiful, quiet, peaceful place to call my own. I am happiest in my own energy. when I get to soak up my love, my heart & my soul. when I get to rest. when there is nowhere to be & no one else to be with. I am happiest when I am showing myself love of the kind that only I can give.

I am happiest when I am operating from a place of razor-sharp clarity & discernment. I am happiest when my yes is a fuck yes & my no is a clean no to anything that doesn’t feel like this. I am happiest when I am living in flow. I am happiest when I am flowing from place to place & moment to moment. I am happiest when I embody aliveness & joy. I am happiest when my inner child can come out to play & be held. I am happiest when I am safe to be vulnerable. I am happiest when the entirety of my being is welcomed & met with love.

I am happiest when I am & feel taken care of. I am happiest when responsibility for taking care of me is taken off my shoulders. I am happiest when I can focus on being me instead. I am happiest when I feel loved by people I love for who I am. I am happiest when I feel appreciated by people I appreciate for who I am. I am happiest when I feel seen, held, and known. I am happiest when I feel wanted for & in my wholeness. I am happiest when my relationships easily, effortlessly & joyfully embody reciprocity.

I am happiest when I receive what I give. I am happiest when the depth & breadth of my capacity to love is mirrored. I am happiest when I am surrounded by people who are passionate, driven, loving, courageous & adventurous. I am happiest when I get to channel & embrace my adventurous spirit. I am happiest when dancing to music that fills the overflowing cup of my soul.

I am happiest when I am doing things that “don’t make sense” but feel right. I am happiest when I am compelled into action of the sweetest & most powerful kind. I am happiest when I get to enjoy my power and wield it as a force of nature & force for love. I am happiest when I get to embrace my inner artist & embody my inner muse at the same time.

I am happiest in wide open spaces, places of natural beauty & wonder, with the wind in my hair. I am happiest when partaking in multi-sensory sensual delights. I am happiest when making cat noises, or moaning softly, or laughing. I am happiest when I am excited & inspired by people I love. I am happiest when I feel as if I am able to engender the change I want to see in the world by teaching with the clarity of my example.

I am happiest when walking through places that make me feel at home. I am happiest when my inner slut or provocateur has space (and permission!) to play & roam. I am happiest when I feel as if it is safe & allowed to love without limits. I am happiest when I am (and embody!) my own permission slip.

I am happiest when I surrender to the flow of the Universe. I am happiest when I trust in a force that is stronger, greater & more powerful than I will ever be, to guide me & orchestrate everything. I am happiest when I don’t have to be the strongest, toughest, cleverest, most beautiful or most brilliant person in the room. I am happiest when I am allowed (and allow myself) to be weak, flawed, fallible, human, and majestic with it.

I am happiest when I give myself space to breathe. I am happiest when I’m

when I said this was unedited, I meant it

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I’m betting my life force & beingness on a set of ideas I believe in with every fibre of my being and also cannot prove (or execute on) alone:

the idea that what I want, wants me back.
the idea that I am wanted as I am.
the idea that what I have to give is valuable & precious.
the idea that this is & will be recognised by the right people.
the idea that this is & will be cherished.

aka— the power & importance of energetic resonance. and I’m embedding this approach into everything I do, create & say yes to from here on in.

if you know me personally, you’ll know this isn’t new for me. you’ll know that this is a core tenet of how & why I build relationships. you’ll know that I am a long-term, strategic thinker & player.

and… you’ll know that I have big dreams & desires.

I’ve been learning a lot about the US immigration system recently. the ins & outs of tax law, corporate structures, yada yada. the importance of reading the fine print & ticking boxes. everything I can’t do alone. everything I am powerless (or helpless) around. everything that brings me fear.

and it is beautiful & heartfelt & tender & scary.

I leave the country on 19/11. I am pouring myself into carpe diem in a way I have never done before; in a way I have never had the capacity to do before. and, it is stretching me.

endless, endless, endless.
relentless, relentless, relentless.
focus, focus, focus.

I feel like a toned, primed athlete.

learning to tend to myself.
learning to listen.
contending with everything I don’t know.

what happens after 19/11? I don’t know. I know I’m applying for an E2 visa. but/and, I don’t know where I want to go from here. physically, I mean.

and not knowing— uncertainty— opens me up to being hurt. or disappointed. or maybe just confronted by the mundane nature of certain aspects of reality.

what am I running away from? what am I attempting to obfuscate, deny, disown?

I want to live the most magical life possible.
I want to live the most truthful, beautiful, magnetic life possible.

and… I cannot do this alone. being an independent woman doesn’t fulfil me.
my work, and the basis of my philosophy, is exactly the opposite: that having the right woman on your team in xyz ways is tremendously RECIPROCALLY valuable. I am devoted to this even when I don’t know what “the way” looks like yet. it humbles me.

I enjoy being humbled because it opens me & connects me with god.

I want to make a list of things I think I know.

I want to pour my soul onto the page.
I want to allow myself to be vulnerable in ways that scare & open me.
I want to allow myself to be seen. but not in a viral kind of way.

by my people. my people are everything to me.

I am navigating two coexisting truths at once. both are bringing me to my knees:

I am doing so, so, so fucking well.
I have so much to be proud of myself for.
I am incredible. I am so fucking incredible.

and, oh my god. this stuff is hard. this stuff is hard.

it helps to cry. that’s been a big learning recently.

when I cry, I open.
when I cry, I feel.

I should be so proud of myself. why am I not more proud of myself?

because it hurts. and because I have been let down (or simply disappointed) so many times. because I’m grieving & processing so much that I don’t yet know how to put into words. because my fire is the blazing tornado of my heart.

there are two anecdotes that are richly, deeply, powerfully alive for me right now:

1. yesterday, in bed. naked (I think)

words that are evocative in & of themselves.

person a: “more people understand you than you realise”
me, in my head: “maybe that’s true, and it’s scary to be understood”

2. two days ago, at alchemy springs (which surpassed any & all expectations I had— very much worth a visit)

person b: “you seem to have very low expectations”
me, in my head, noticing the ways in which my low (or non-existent) expectations cushion the blow of being hurt or let down: “maybe. or maybe I just want to live a life in which it is easy to be delighted”

… and maybe more than one truth can be true at once.

everything I write feels ephemeral

timeless

as if we’re going to a place that time forgot
as if we’re writing from a place where time never existed
as if we are one

I write for us
naivety or hubris

who would I be without my self-hatred?

I remember revealing myself, and the way it felt like glass shards were cutting me from the inside out.

jagged, precise annihilation. the most exquisite pain.

I don’t love pain, but I love tenderness.

and I love transcendence.
and I love not being defined by shame.
and I love coming home to myself again.

I love the journey of coming home.

what if I could love the pain?

I’m thinking of you.

the tale of two brothers. it’s how I’ve christened you [both] in my mind.

so similar.
so different.
so close.
so far.

my heart breaks for you both in my own ways.

to the second brother, the softer brother, the striver brother
but in many ways, the brother that the first brother longs to be:

I love you.

I told you I loved you this morning. it was simple & easy.

I wish you could know one another the way I know you both individually.

to the second brother, the softer brother, the striver brother
but in many ways, the brother that all the other brothers long to be:

I admire you.

I admire your willingness to tell the truth to yourself even when it hurts or is uncomfortable. I admire your willingness to be ugly. I admire your willingness to be uncomfortable, and stay in or with discomfort instead of bypassing it (even if or though you don’t like it).

I admire your commitment to your family.

I admire your willingness to live with an open heart.
I admire the openness of your heart.
I admire your simple kindness.

I admire your adventurous spirit.
I admire your dedication to fun & lightness.

I enjoy your soul. and I’m proud of you. I really am.

you met me during a time in my life when my heart was utterly broken.
and still, I was not broken. I was not, am not, broken.
but I was hurting in ways I couldn’t articulate.

you were a beautiful bridge for me.
you helped me stay focused & put one foot in front of the other even though I was in so, so, so much pain.
you (or your presence) anchored me.

and you never realised.
or at least, I didn’t tell you.
I didn’t make it a focus.
it wasn’t the right thing to do; there was nothing to say.

and, here I am. here I am.

thank you for everything. I think you’re amazing.

if the way we see is the framing of the way we live, then the way we love is the way we hold ourselves in magic & wonder

over & over & over again

and what I’m in love with here is the timelessness. connecting with essence. reconnecting with essence. connecting & reconnecting with essence as source. retracing my steps. unfurling, unfolding, dismantling, dissolving all that wants to let go, and be released

releasing the tension
releasing the ache
releasing the grief

remembering the love
holding the love
amplifying the love
adoring the love

over & over & over again

love enough to be known
love enough to be wanted
love enough to hold your own

love enough to see yourself with new eyes
love enough to come alive

reimagine enoughness as connection with the eternal & the sublime

an ancient memory
the ancient memory
our ancient memories

coming together
coming apart
coming forth

drawing forth
drawing blood
giving hope
giving faith
giving sanctuary
embodying grace

creating a new world

stream of consciousness q&a

1. “what are some cases where you trusted someone you shouldn’t have trusted?”

I notice that I resist this question. and/or, it doesn’t resonate with me.

I don’t think I’ve ever trusted someone I shouldn’t have trusted.

what I do think I’ve done is give my heart to people I shouldn’t have given my heart to [sort of true, but I have no regrets], or given my heart to people who didn’t have the capacity to hold it or me in the ways that I hoped for or would’ve wanted [more true], or wanted to experience things with people that they weren’t available for & therefore couldn’t meet me in [definitely true]. but, at a fundamental level, I have never had my trust broken by someone I love. and/or, every time I have had my trust broken, it has taught me exactly what I needed to learn.

I love this question, though. and I love how it moves me. I love how it opens me. because of course, this isn’t true. it’s just that I don’t focus my attention & energy on the places where I’ve been let down. I focus on where & how I can be met, and creating beautiful relationships from what’s here now, and I’m good at that.

not because I’m rejecting or repressing xyz. actually, it’s the opposite. I’ve processed a lot of hurt in my life. and so, the hurt that I’ve processed doesn’t hurt [me] anymore.

I see & feel that we’re all doing our best in the ways we can & know how [to]. and, I am humbled by it. from there, my heart cracks open to love.

2. “what are some cases where you did not trust someone whom you should have?”

again, I can’t think of anything.

I don’t distrust by default. I am not wary by default. and when I do feel wary of someone, I sense & test it. I express it. I say, “hey, I’m scared.” how the other person responds tells me everything I need to know.

3. “have you met people who are particularly good at judging who and how to trust. what makes them good? what lessons if any can you draw from their practice?”

yes: me.

what makes them good? they trust & have a good relationship with themselves.
what lessons if any can you draw from their practice? as above, so below :)

4. “how do you think you are different on this issue than others? why?”

I notice that I feel wary of making myself exceptional or special here. for every “other” who seems different, there are many others who are similar. it’s all about what you put your attention (focus) on.

if I am different from others on this, I don’t care for it. it doesn’t inspire me. I yearn for more people to have relationships with trust that inspire & delight them. I hold hope that it’s possible.

5. “how does the internet affect all of this?”

I’ve had many beautiful experiences with people I’ve met on the internet, and I don’t think it makes things that different. that said, I’ve always used my real name [in interactions], and had interactions with others in the same vein. I think that makes things cleaner & clearer. I want to know who I’m speaking to, and I want to connect with you on a real level. if you’re not capable of doing that, we aren’t a match. you get what you give. and, you get what you’re available for.

choose wisely & enjoy!

credit: thank you to an anonymous reader for contributing these questions & inspiring this feature. much love <3 if you have questions you’d like me to answer in a future issue, drop me a DM :)