Hello Reader! I've decided to start a blog at the beginning of this new year, 2018. I am always writing and always speaking, constantly trying to record my experience and feeling called to share it. I don't always know that any of this means much to anyone but me, and yet I am finding that when I do chose to share, it often is received with a sense of "thank you for saying what I needed to hear". So perhaps something here will be what your soul needed to hear, and that is perhaps my only goal in life.
I titled this blog, Igniting the Inner Fire, because for me, that is what my writing and speaking is all about. It's about connecting to my own inner fire, my soul, my core of aliveness. And it is about igniting all of us, igniting us to feel, experience, come alive, and take action. In this moment on our planet, we need a lot of passionate and clear-seeing souls igniting action. We need earth-connected, fierce goddess, "get out of my way I'm on a mission" women everywhere, enacting their soul's calling and speaking up. Perhaps this blog will help you find your own voice, will connect you with your own fire, and together we can turn this ship around.
I read these two poems at a recent women's workshop. They hit home for many, so I was inspired to share them more widely.
There is a deadness, a confusion A felt sense of being far from myself A sense of other voices yelling inside Much louder than mine, beneath them all A confusion that clouds just behind my eyes A heaviness that descends downward, into my chest A distinct feeling of flat, concrete, boxed It is visceral and visual and stifling I have been taught that this is the soil for growth But I am always forgetting that advice Beneath is pain, I know enough to know that Tears that are stuck, dying to be shed And despite my wish for the flood, the concrete is too heavy to lift Words and works are buried underneath there, ready to flood forward Waiting for its chance to burst out The deadness has its message One of conditioning, of the request for smallness The concrete has a message inscribed in deep, thick lettering You are not allowed, it says To know what you know, to do what you do, to own what you have You must be quieter Your power is not welcome here Your knowing is not invited The concrete comes with a feeling, of guilt and shame A vision of all the wagging fingers and shaking heads The voices of women who feel threatened The voices of men who prefer our silence Sometimes I just can’t shake it and it settles, heavy, over my heart And the feeling is a feeling like death Perhaps that is what it is, a death Of myself, of my voice Which begins to feel so far away that even I don’t recognize it anymore .....
I keep waking up With this ache on my heart It is cringe-worthy My face scrunches up As I draw the feeling in again The message is: “What are you going to mess up today? How are you going to be an embarrassment today? Being yourself is not a good plan. ‘Yourself’ is too loud, too real, too strong, too passionate” Passionate, they call me. Well, she certainly is passionate, they say, Belittling my message to the child’s play of an Uncontrolled girl. She sure is passionate, alright, They say, as I try with everything I have to scream their goddamn souls awake They don’t know that I’m screaming at their deadness Their falseness, how little they know about what is happening here They don’t know how every word flying out of my mouth Are words the universe wants to crash in over their heads. Since nothing else is getting their attention, maybe this will But no, they just find me like entertainment that They are slightly embarrassed about. All that passion. Fuck you. This passion is the Great Mother trying to save your fucking life Actually, trying to save all of our lives And you aren’t listening. And that is ruining us. It is ruining all of us. With floods that overrun what once were thriving cities And fires that take down entire states As people die in a million unjust ways And you sit in your chairs and as I yell to you that you better wake up That your comfort is killing you and the rest of us And you tell me how passionate I am.