Oct 9, 2008


As it is, some of my notes have been a little too much for people. I've gotten a lot of comments as well as emails, phone calls, and face-to-face talks about the notes. I welcome this, because even the negative commentary gives me hope. The ideas are getting in people's heads and hearts, and that is the only goal here. Not necessarily to make you think, eff that. My goal is to make you feel - make you experience - and maybe, just maybe, make you experiment.

I've spoken of Thirteen Senses. Thirteen Senses is a book by Victor VillaseƱor, but it's not his idea. Many indigenous cultures believe in the 13 senses. He just wrote about them and decided that teaching people how to engage their 13 senses would help heal the world. I like the idea of healing the world - but something about these Thirteen Senses rang true with me. I haven't read ANY of his books fully, yet. I have to, but I can't seem to make the time. I'm going to have to work on that time thing.

The teaching of Thirteen Senses brings us to some senses that don't sound like senses at all. "Time/Space"? "Flying"? What the...? Well, regardless of how weird I think this is - ever since I met Victor and heard about them, I've been engaging them and quite frankly it has been amazing.

So, on to sense number Ten, flying.

I know flight is possible. I astral projected accidentally while on a plane. Believe me, I flew.

Last weekend, I helped a friend move. That morning, before most people were awake, when the neighborhood was quiet, I flew. I flew a bit differently though. I was really sleepy and mildly annoyed at being up as early as I was. It was about 6:40am and I went outside to wait for my friend to pick me up to help with the move. I knew I needed to get beyond the tired feeling. In the state I was in, I wasn't going to help anyone really.

I was in a really whiney state of mind. I started walking around the parking lot next door, kicking pebbles. I'm not doing the emotion justice, so I'll say this: my state of being was like sucking on one of those CRY BABY gum-balls.

Just then a flock of pigeons launched en masse off of the roof of one of the factories near the house. I completely stopped thinking. I got totally out of my head and just watched them fly. The patterns they were flying in and the feel of them was exhilarating. I stood in awe of how great birds are. I focused on one of them and breathed it in. I felt its vibration. I gave myself to that pigeon, essentially. Then suddenly...

I was that pigeon. I was flying with the other pigeons and I could see the rooftops. I could feel the air blowing past my face and I could see myself even, standing in the parking lot looking up. I could feel my wings, and flap them. I dove and danced in the air with the flock. I was having a blast.

My phone rang. Suddenly, I was standing in the parking lot. I was changed. I had become the sweet center of the gum-ball, no longer had any of that sour disposition. (For the record when the gum gets sweet, is when I spit it out) I answered the phone. My friend was there, and we left for the day.

There are many ways to fly. Whether you do it through an out of body experience, or with birds, or in your dreams, or with your heart when someone you love is near you. You can fly. I know you have ALL had an experience flying. While I enjoyed my flight with the birds, and my OBE out of an airplane - it's that last one that is the best flight. Love can give you the best set of wings.

Find it. Get out of yourself. Whether it is with your heart or with your soul. Go out and FLY! Because damn, I guarantee, it's the most amazing you'll feel.

Sep 10, 2008

The Night and the Day

Wow. I got an email from my good friend and kindred spirit, Sonia. She relayed a story that a friend of hers had just felt her connection to the world for the first time. She felt it, tasted it, smelled it, touched it... basically a sensory orgasm. The first time you feel your connection to the all is amazing. Someone had shared their experience with Sonia and she knew that she had to in turn - share it with me.

Sonia asked me something simple. She wanted me to share my experience - the first time I'd felt at one with the Earth. The first time I felt in awe of everything. I'm going to go a bit further than that though. Don't I always?

Recently I wrote a note called Painting with Rain, and in that note you can read my connection to the Universe. It is not a connection that I ever truly disconnect from, although when I do the disconnection is brief.

When I was a child, I spent every summer in Puerto Rico. Living in the Tropics will connect you to the music of the world without you even intending to connect. There is no denying the beauty of the world when you are surrounded by it.

I was about 9 or 10 perhaps, I don't remember my exact age, but I was in 3rd grade. I was at my Grandmother's house in the mountains in Cayey when I first stood in awe of the world. It was as though my senses became confused. I could taste the green of the grass. I could smell the clouds. I felt nature growing. I closed my eyes and I could see music. My ears were ringing with the giggles of the grass.

In that moment, I knew everything was perfect. I knew that my Grandmother would be making lemonade from the lemons she picked next to the swing. I knew that the ants that were biting my feet didn't mean me harm necessarily, they were just doing what they do. I could hear the thoughts of the dogs - lazy in the sunshine - praying for rain to cool them down. I knew that one of the chickens was sitting on eggs that had been fertilized by the house rooster - and soon there would be little baby chicks. There was a guinea hen that was annoyed because one of my cousins was chasing her. I was in love with this feeling. I had connected to the Earth.

Once you connect to the world, you don't lose it. You can access this connection at any time. It doesn't matter where you are.

When I was 18 I was up on a hill at my cousin's ranch. The horses were in the stable - the chickens in their coop. It was night time. We had all picked a spot in the grass to lay. We looked up at the stars. On that hill in Puerto Rico, there weren't any lights - only the moonlight coating everything like a veil. The stars were plentiful.

I opened my mouth and verbalized my feelings.

"We're in a jar. We're like an ant farm, or fireflies. The stars, the light we see - that's Heaven. The darkness between, is the lid of the jar we're in. The stars themselves, holes poked in the lid."

One of my cousins laughed and said, "Entonces que es el dia?" (Then what is the day?)

"The day is when God retreats back to childish ways. The hot sun is the light of Heaven through a magnifying glass."

They all pondered that for a moment.

I laughed and looked at the stars and they winked approval. The moon smiled a crescent smile. The stars didn't seem far at all. I felt as though I could scoop them up in my hand. Then I smelled them, and tasted them, and they touched me. They brushed up against my face and warmed me. It was the first time I'd connected to the Universe.

First times are amazing. I believe these are the stories of losing my virginity. I made love to the ALL. I connected with everything. At ten it was with the world, and at 18 I was finally ready to have intergalactic intercourse.

The Universe is amazing. We should all be so lucky to love it so freely. It gives itself to us unconditionally - we just need to be open.

Sep 6, 2008

Painting with the Rain

I felt her on my face and running down my cheeks. She was cold, and I was radiating so much warmth that steam poured off of me. I was caressed by the beauty. Engulfed in the magic of the sky dripping its love to the Earth.

I sat on one of the benches in the yard and watched the leaves of the trees dance under this love. I watched them drink it in. Flowers stretched up and leaned back their heads to catch her beauty. The grass winked at her and reached higher hoping to catch more. The pebbles glistened like silver and gold. There was peace on Earth.

I wanted to create with her. I wanted to harness her beauty. I needed a partner to paint with. She agreed with a giggle of drizzle.

I sat in the studio and pondered color. The rain is colorless to the eye but add light and every color of the spectrum sprouts forth like a prayer spoken from the lips of an angel. I closed my eyes and let her speak to me. She chose. Silver, for the glistening rocks. Black for the night sky that was watching down above the clouds. Lavender, for the flowers that were dancing in her joy. Blue, for the ocean that birthed her somewhere early on in the cycle of her life. She chose, and I found a jar to mix her choices in.

I poured the paint into the jar and went out into the night to collect some of her. I stood there feeling her cold fingertips on my flesh. Her glitter sliding down my curls like children at play on a water slide. I waited for her to tell me when to go to the canvas. We were a team moving toward a common goal.

With a brush, I spread her and her choices on the canvas. Nothing fancy, no real strokes. I just filled the canvas with her and the representation of all that she'd given me. Her colors and her ideas. She was the true artist here. I was an apprentice, learning from the best.

When the canvas was filled I took it out into the night, I let my friend Rain take its brush to her. I listened to her music. There was a pause within her chorus. I knew she had finished.

This morning, I awakened knowing that I had to finish the painting. The rain was still with me, speaking to me. I had to varnish the painting but didn't want to be the one to choose the medium. Again she spoke and asked for a high gloss coat. My friend the rain knows herself well. She glistens, her painting should have the same effect.

It's supposed to continue to rain for a while. I wish I didn't have to go to work today. The artist that is painting the world with her droplets has found a voice and a patient ear. She will have to wait for another day.

Aug 24, 2008


We are all capable of miracles. Each and every one of us has the capacity to do what every one of the greatest avatars have done, whether they be Jesus or Buddha or Einstein. We all have the ability to engage our true genius. We just have to quiet the mind and listen to the soul. If you shut off your brain long enough, and trust in the voice within you, you can even fly.

Years ago I was creating miracles daily. Some were small and some were extensive, but they were all miracles. If it was as insignificant as going into a candy shop and purchasing a half pound of swedish fish, and knowing when I got to work that I'd bought them for Mary Ann Ahern because she was having a bad day (before ever speaking to her or anyone else). If it was as large as fending off rain when I knew someone was going to be getting married that day. They were constant and ever flowing. I am an angel.

Now, I don't say that I'm an angel to shove it in the face of people. We are ALL angels. It's the knowing that you are one that makes the biggest difference. Most people are genuinely unaware of this. We all have different names for it - culturally. But there were instances where it was so obvious that the people who I would make miracles for would tell me, "oh my God, you're an angel!"

There was this one Thanksgiving in particular. I had just eaten a rather huge meal and was stuffed to the gills. I had absolutely no reason whatsoever to stop and get food. I got off the red line train at Chicago Avenue, right next to the McDonald's and without even thinking about it at all walked right in and right up to the register and without hesitation or looking at the menu ordered. I asked for 4 Happy Meals. 3 cheeseburgers and one chicken nugget - and 3 cokes and 1 sprite. I didn't know immediately who they were for, only that I had ordered them. I paid, somewhere around 14 dollars I believe. As I grabbed the little bags and turned to leave a man entered the McDonald's begging for money.

He came up to me and said, "Please Miss, it's Thanksgiving and I just want to feed my kids."

So I said, "Oh! These must be for you then!"

He looked at me with the most confused look in his eye and said, "I need money, I have some picky eaters, I mean thank you but..."

I cut him off and said, "I know all about your daughter who wanted chicken nuggets, and your son who doesn't like coke, only sprite. I took care of that - and the cheeseburgers all have toys for boys and the chicken nuggets one has a girl toy."

He looked at me with the most confused and scared expression and said, "Who told you to do this?"

I said, "Well sir, God did."

It was the closest thing to the truth that I could muster, truth was no one told me, I just kinda did it and was figuring it out as I went along. The Universe or God or the Collective Consciousness or whatever you want to call it was working through me really. But I figured I should go with what I said lest the man be more freaked out than he already was.

"That's impossible," he replied. "God can't work that way for me."

So I looked at him with sadness in my eyes and said, "Sir, he just did."

I realized then that he didn't have faith at all. I imagine being homeless with 4 kids in tow couldn't exactly help with that. I offered him the last five dollars I had and explained that it was a third of the way to the 4 meals. I explained that the 5 bucks wouldn't get him very far to feeding the 4 kids and that the longer we spoke the colder the food was getting and the hungrier the kids would be. He denied the meals and took the five dollars.

I walked through the doors and found the kids and handed them each their meal. The only one who left that situation unhappy was the father. The kids were happy and eating, and I was happy to make them happy. I walked to work, what else could I do?

Whenever I recall that story, I get teary eyed at his words. "God can't work that way for me." I wonder what could make a person think that The Universe or God or whatever can't conspire to give you everything you need when you need it. What I should have told him was, "He didn't, he worked that way for your kids pendejo."

I've started miracle work again. I'd finally found the switch to quiet my brain and turn my heart and soul back on. Nothing gives me greater pleasure than making someone else happy. There is no greater music in the universe than the laughter of another human being. There is no greater artwork than the smile on the face of your fellow man.

Turn off your brains folks, and engage all of your senses. And remember, the pendejo who told you that you only had 5 senses, was only telling you about the ones that are attached to your brain. You have more senses. If you have 5 connected to your brain, think about how many your heart has and how many your soul has. Senses multiply - try to engage the important ones - THOSE are your miracle making senses. They will change the world.

Aug 23, 2008


Since I've been in California there have been all of these water related anomalies occurring around me. I think it's because I really want it to rain.

The weather here is perfect. Well, perfect by most standards. I like rain. I'll correct myself, I LOVE rain. I believe that for my vacations to be perfect there has to be at least one day of torrential downpour or I'm not happy. Here, in Southern California, not a drop from the sky. I realize that's probably the norm here. I'm sure it has something to do with the whole desert thing, and the whole Pacific Ocean thing - but it's pissing me off. In Chicago we have this ritual where we stick a knife in the ground to stop it from raining, I wonder if there is a similar ritual I could do to make it rain. The sky water is illusive. Someone make it rain!

Speaking of which, I've made it rain in someone's hotel room. Let me explain. I had an iPod related catastrophe. Minor on the catastrophe scale, unless you like having your entire music collection with you at all times. Because of the iPod catastrophe, I walked a little over a mile to a Best Buy here in Mission Valley to procure a new one. I couldn't put ALL of my music on it, but at least whatever I had hanging around on the laptop. When I walked back I had to kinda rush - due to a potty emergency. I felt a little schwetty so I thought I'd jump in the tub.

I filled up the tub and listened to my iPod. I sang to myself in the tub while soaking with bubbles and listened to a little Robin Thicke. I was all relaxed when apparently the phone rang and woke up my travel partner who busted into the bathroom with the announcement that it was raining in the hotel room below us. I looked around and the floor of the bathroom was completely dry. I hopped out and got dressed and checked everywhere in the room and not a drop of water on the floor anywhere. The maintenance guy entered the bathroom, and again, nothing out of the ordinary. Apparently, no one knows where the water came from. Somehow I just made it rain.

Then, there was the next day. We went to the San Diego Wild Animal Park. Fun was had. On the way back to the hotel there was an unbelievable amount of traffic. When we were about a half mile off from the hotel I saw what looked to be a geyser or a fountain of some kind. I really thought that the Buckingham fountain was stalking us. I figured I'd missed something and that it was in fact - a fountain and not a geyser. Oh boy was I wrong. Apparently there had been a car accident. The accident had also involved an innocent bystander - a fire hydrant. The hydrant geyser conundrum went on for 9 consecutive hours. Again, rain - but not from the sky and not in any way I was able to enjoy it properly.

Today, we were awakened by a knock on the hotel door.
"You called about some faulty plumbing?" asked the disembodied voice beyond the door.

"No not that I'm aware" I replied.

"I need to check anyway if that's alright" again the voice spoke.

We let him in. There was of course no issues with the plumbing. I hope there isn't some sort of water main problem tomorrow.

I'd really like it to rain. Just once, for maybe 5 or 10 seconds even. Just to get this bad water juju out of the way. I don't know what's going on but my incessant need for rain coupled with the stubbornness of the sky in this region are not being nice to the plumbing. Water wants to listen to me and fall from great heights, but the clouds have another plan entirely. I wish we could all figure this out and come to a compromise. 5 seconds of drizzle? Is that too much to ask?

Jun 16, 2008

Foot in mouth disease

You ever write something down that means one thing, and someone reads it and because they have absolutely no idea the context, they take your words and run with them? Like, take my last post. There are some things going on in my life right now that if you take them and that post without knowing anything else - you'd assume that they go together. However, that post was written specifically about a couple of people - it was a message to the both of them. It had nothing at all to do with anything else.

To be quite honest, I didn't even write that post. I mean I typed it, but some would call it 'channeled text'. I sat and closed my eyes and just typed what came without giving much thought to the words at all. I held two people in my mind and those were the words that formed for them.

I do that all the time. I'm talking about one thing, and someone else assumes that I'm talking about another, and then I don't have the heart to tell that person the truth, because the truth would hurt them. I've really got to stop doing that. If I keep trying not to hurt someone else - I'm just going to end up holding a cast iron pan in my hands that's been in the fire too long and sear my own flesh.

Someone stop me.

May 30, 2008

Why is love so hard?

Why do we make love hard on ourselves? Love, the purest emotion, and we manage to cloud it and dirty it and throw it in a hole and drown it. Before we are born we decide how we are going to send love into our lives - and which ways we can learn best from experience. This decision, this pre-birth decision, usually means we'll end up broken hearted or yearning for something we can't touch, or in relationships that don't exactly match the euphoria that is written of in books and acted out in movies.

Why do we do this?? So that when we do find that thing that is in books and movies, we recognize how precious it is and we take it and won't let it go for anything in the world, that's why. Because if it's the untouchable - we suffice to love from afar and dream of the day when it is attainable. Years and lifetimes we'll wait - with our hand on the glass staring through the window. Nevermind the fact that we're all holding a hammer in the other hand. We'll wait because breaking the glass is difficult and painful. Breaking the glass might mean hurting ourselves or even others or God forbid the love that sits beyond that window.

We feel that we aren't worthy of that which we are more than worthy of. We feel that because of the yearning and longing - that the togetherness will ruin the fantasy of perfection. We would rather the heartache and longing than the notion that this dream too, this love will become just reality. That the magic of longing will be replaced by the reality of togetherness. That what was exciting and amazing and yes, scary will devolve into something normal, and quiet and good. We fear wrinkling the silken cloth of love by touching it, and would rather stare at it behind glass, perfect and untouched.

What we don't realize, and don't see is that the silk longs for touch and would rather be ruined with the warmth of love and hands than stay stagnant in an airless chamber. The silk longs to breathe and feel the suns rays regardless of how the light will fade its colors. Safety isn't safe if it drives you crazy.

Trust me. It feels much better to inhale and feel wrinkled and alive.

May 12, 2008


Again my brain is doing its thing
where it stomps on my feelings
and makes me put every little thing
through a sieve
funneling my fun into little bits of lunacy
making my enjoyment
less and less.
my eyes are ripping holes in the sky with the moon
and letting the stars escape them and run down my face
twinkling in their sadness
and falling to the floor
in drips that no one can wish on.

May 6, 2008


A day dripping with sweetness
And an apricot sun
That painted the world with a syrupy dew


I fed it spoonfuls of rage
and mouthfuls of hate
And bit by bit rotted its sky-fruit

I balled up my fear
and flung it at the world

Missing completely
Hitting the sky
And blackening the horizon.