this quest

a creature of night that ever seeks the light

"this is the One!"

stopped short by glass,

wiring and filament.

and stunned,

full of yearning,

blinded by desire,

the moth flies at the bulb again.

She cannot comprehend

she sleeps when this planet's true life Source is apparent.

For one with such longing,

day would be too much

she would fly until atmosphere gave out

her soul joining her Beloved light

as her body plummeted back to Earth.

She is given the grace of unconsciousness,

else moths would live but a single day.

Such celestial safety measures worked well

when Night was truly dark,

when Nature ruled our rhythms.

but in our manufactured whirled

Night is Day

money is wealth

plastic is permanent

and we hurl ourselves at illusion

believing the trappings

to be the essence.

my wings are tired.

my head aches.

yet it seems so real,

so bright, so close.

how do we stop chasing?

wasting our lives on artificial light?

or is that the reason we have wings?

and when we figure out how to play,

how to truly fly,

the game will end.

and we'll dissolve in the morning Sun.

and so tender, this ache

I fear I may implode.

but shutting down just makes me colder

so I breathe into the yearning in my soul.

     hollow

and so vast, this chasm

I fear I may fall forever.

but looking away just makes me weaker

so I gaze into the black hole in my heart.

the place you cannot fill,

so deep.

so hungry.

I am consumed.

the words unsaid, unsayable

ring like a cracked bell in my gaping.

your voice in my mind, so clear

almost, almost what I wanted to hear

yet so not, that it scrapes my scabs

rends my soft underbelly

cuts to the core of my longing

and lances it clean.

I let my unrefined reception

take on the shape of your silhouette.

you are here, but not here.

I can't look, but can't look away.

nothing to do but pray harder,

breathe deeper,

the way out is the way through.

dive into my own abyss

leap into my endlessness

surrender into sadness.

there is only up from here.

crawling to fly

the same opening that let you in

is the one that now lets you go.

and

raw

torn asunder

wading through bitter,

because that single taste was so

sweet.

washed clean by tears.

with my endless pounding aching yearning grieving releasing,

one gentle, nearly-steady step at time.

I said I'll come dance at your wedding,

then words failed me.

emptiness must be another kind of bliss.

this psychedelic emotional depth

bringing me closer to God.

this pain a kind of sacrament.

a key.

I am Medicine Woman

and love is my doorway of choice

my tool

my gift.

I peer deeper

swim through

to set you free.

to be free.

see you on the otherside

~:~:~

Blinded by your bright,

I could not see your shadow.

Sparkle of eyes,

curve of lip,

curl of hair, just below chin

perpetual grin,

to hide the sadness, just below iris.

the scars on hands invisible

when my full attention is given to feeling them

upon my skin.

the passionate kisses

born of pain,

hard-won abandon

to cover the taste of Death.

Blinded by my wish,

forgetting they come true,

not free.

like love itself

there is always a sacrifice

a cost

something is lost

fantasy must give way

lest it color the gift in unmet expectation

and disempower the waking dream.

Blinded by potential,

who I believe you could be,

what I choose to see.

shadow strengthens by our oblivion.

projection is my poison,

disappointment dis spells magic.

Yet I have more dimensions,

than some fairytale princess.

yes, I have pricked my own finger

by believing illusion.

even modern Maidens must visit the Underworld,

to become full women.

and somehow, still,

your kiss awakens me.

though my jaded eyes now see

the kinks in your not-so-shining armor

this too, too solid flesh is warmed

even more, by your fire

stronger than any fable.

this heart so full

flesh, and armor, and history would melt.

Bright, Dark,

Hero, Demon,

I would know the All of you.

I promise to see you.

tell me the stories of your scars.

hold me with your imperfect love.

it is enough

you are enough

Time passes

and still i dream of You.

my passion tempered by loyalty,

desire tamed by integrity.

so i do not call out.

dare not.

yet here you are,

my Shadow and my Light in one.

Time passes

and the twinkle in your Eyes

still illuminates my mornings.

the Mind that calculates time, speed, space

is aware of the distance between us.

the likelihood of unreality.

the danger of fantasy.

but the Heart that pounds,

when your name or favorite phrase

crosses innocent lips,

is so full

so full of you.

each chamber a vein,

 a trove of possibility.

Time passes

the mixed blessing

 of loving from afar

our lack of communication could be obvious separation

or simply telepathic trust.

was it a once upon a time,

or a never ending story?

the flower that blooms but once in a century,

or a nestled seed awaiting cultivation?

Time passes

and still I long for you

too sweet to let go,

however painful the touchless holding

too wise to be aching,

too saturated to call it emptiness,

but I cannot pretend I am warm tonight.

I am in paradise, it seems

yet I ponder trading this garden

to grow one with you.

the glorious Sunset comes alive

when I share it with your Shade.

the World becomes more Magical

when I feel your smile.

is this sad insanity,

or true love’s bated breath reality?

Time passes,

and you become ephemeral dream.

softening my grip a little more

and a little more

the ache in my heart breaking me

open.

the sky grows brighter

as your memory fades.

once my Lion Sun,

you had become clouds

and now, like they

you drift away

my light revealed.

my power returns,

as I stop seeking you.

All life becomes my lover.

I am vast as Ocean.

endless as horizon

in love no more

yet in love forever.

***this was written for the Body Alive Yoga and Movement Studio November newsletter ***

Yoga for the Fuller Figure

Yoga seems to be everywhere today. This specialized system of healing from ancient India has become an icon of pop culture. Toned models in various Yoga-inspired positions wearing tight designer clothes grace magazine covers, health care billboards, and even car commercials. The idea of Yoga is more popular, and in some ways less understood, than ever before.

This use of Yoga as a marketing tool has created an elitist feeling about this ancient practice. There is the pervading idea that only certain sizes and types of people can receive the benefits of these acrobatic, aerobic classes. But Yoga was originally designed to facilitate sitting in meditation and to clear the physical and energetic blockages in the body so one could be healthy, present, and comfortable.

Recently, several different scientific studies have shown that consistent Yoga practice, properly modified to the level and mobility of the participants, can help nearly every population in some way. From teenagers working with Attention Deficit Disorder to senior citizens with limited mobility, from pregnant women to soldiers recovering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder to Cancer patients undergoing chemotherapy; Yoga truly does offer relief and facilitate healing for nearly every person that practices consistently.

Personally, a decade of dedicated Yoga practice; combined with positive affirmations, prayer, exercise, and healthy eating habits; has helped me let go of 75 pounds and keep it off, given me more energy and joy, and inspired me to truly cherish my body, curves and all, more than I would have thought possible. I went from being a shy, unhappy, overweight woman to someone who truly loves my body and my life. Beyond the toning and strengthening benefits, it is the cultivation of acceptance and presence that keeps me happy and healthy, whatever the scale might read that day. Exercise alone could not have done it for me, nor any amount of imposed dieting. I can honestly say that Yoga saved my life, and helps me everyday feel healthy, empowered, and in love with my body.

I designed the Yoga for the Fuller Figure classes as an embodiment of the idea that Yoga is for everyone. They are especially for those with more generous curves, but helpful for anyone looking to experience more presence in, and appreciation for, the body~ whether it is your first time in a Yoga studio or your tenth year of practicing. The classes are a combination of Yoga Asana (held poses), flowing sequences, positive affirmations, meditation, and forgiveness/self-love exercises, I offer a non-judgmental and safe space for you to truly embrace your body, as it is, while clearing energy blockages and stagnation and developing more core awareness, flexibility, tone, focus, and presence.

Yoga for the Fuller Figure

Sundays, 11am – 12:15 pm                                                           

~:~

She whispers

in this midnight hour

like so much cricket song

and toad whistle,

the drumming rain on tin roof

no match

for the roar and rush of Her enticement.

She whispers

and my thighs open

my chest heaves

my breath deepens

my eyes brighten

the pen slides across page,

more adroit than a lover's tongue,

silkier than the softest touch.

this Muse I court with greater fervor

than any human man I have yet met.

turning the hunger of my Womb

into a plea for Inspiration.

oh, how I ache,

yet another night alone and awake in the witching hours,

so I cry unto the Stars~

if I cannot have a companion in the sweet warmth of my bed,

and rest will not find me while my heart yearns so strongly,

than give me words.

let this longing not be for naught.

speak to me, sing through me

help me create beauty

from the cacophony in my mind.

give me rhythm, alliteration, meter and rhyme

elevate my imbecilic whimperings

into something worth remembering.

and She whispers...

***this is not for the squeamish***

Right now, somewhere in the world a woman is being raped

to

subdue her tribe into mining for the minerals in my cell phone

and

I count myself lucky

because it's not me

though it could be

screaming the name of God in pain

while

my family is forced to watch in vain

no,

the last time I screamed with a man inside me was pure pleasure

Thank God

but there are so many sisters who have only known the penis as punishment

Right now, somewhere in the world a woman is being raped

in

retribution for showing so much as her hand or ankle

or

loving someone outside her clan

and

I count myself lucky

because it's not me

though it could be

I can wear hot pants and heels

and

likely make it home unmolested

~ but for damn sure it's still considered my fault if I don't

my visible curves have become a political statement

I am aware of the power of this body,

(more aware, even, then soldiers in the Congo or uncles in Afghanistan)

and

I choose to wield it in service of liberation

and

I know how tenuous my position,

how righteous the rape consciousness

the beast that takes what he thinks it wants is hiding in plain sight

and

i was nine years old

and

all he did was touch me through my clothes

but

I still smell the beer on his breath

and

ache from the injustice of it all

and

a third of the women reading this have been raped or molested

and a tenth of the men

and

I count myself lucky

because I lived through it

and

sex is now a glorious medicine

so when I orgasm

in undulating waves

I

pray for all the women

everywhere

to know a brand new day

of

    ~~~ YES! ~~~

and

freedom in their bodies

and

justice in their lives

and

sacred

healing

union

      As I soften into the Maui sweetness again, I feel the epic journey of the past two months settle into my being. I wonder how to make sense of it all, the wide disparity of at times feeling so adrift, and at times so on purpose, as I studied with my Yoga teacher, learned by osmosis from my priestess friends, walked the city streets, taught and danced and loved at Burning Man.

"The word "integrity" stems from the Latin adjective integer (whole, complete). In this context, integrity is the inner sense of "wholeness" deriving from qualities such as honesty and consistency of character. As such, one may... "have integrity" to the extent that they act according to the values, beliefs and principles they claim to hold." (Wikipedia)

As a part of the spiritual path, integration has come to mean returning from the mountaintop or the depths of the cave; the sometimes laborious process of making sense of the world after a paradigm-shattering peak experience and rediscovering one's place in the community.

But what to do when it is revealed that the "values, beliefs, and principles" one holds are so widely disparate? How to find the common thread when the tapestry of our moral compass is so vast and varied? When we discover that we strongly feel seemingly opposed perceptions of reality, how do we hold it all together?

The concept of integration has been a driving force in my life for some time now. I measure my success as a person by how in integrity I feel, which for me includes honor, accountability, and the feeling that I am doing in each moment what I came to this planet to do. The sense of 'wholeness,' however, is strangely elusive. There is so much that I want to do and be with this life, and some of these desires seem to contradict each other~ To be a devout spiritual practitioner; and have a life-partner and children. To have a beautiful, nurturing nest of a home; and travel internationally, teaching and dancing. To grow food and a sustainable community; and launch a book of poetry with a national speaking and teaching tour. To be alone with Nature, and to be onstage. But though these visions could pull me apart, one of the gifts of this journey was the realization that it is this very push-pull, the colorful extremity and dynamic tension of my dreams that gives me purpose and brings all my gifts out for sharing.

My recent journey is already a memory. When I first landed in Oakland, I remember feeling as a 'stranger in a strange land', smiling at passerbys and having to restrain myself from saying 'Aloha' to everyone who glanced at me. I jumped right into an intense schedule, schlepping across the Bay for my Yoga intensive, to teach, to dance, and to deal with my belongings. I taught 10 classes in 8 days, and basically attempted to recreate the life I had left in the city, without even a secure landing place to nurture me. The pollution and stress combined to knock me out with a cold for the next week or so, even as I bounced to different friends' places and tried to make the best of my trip, longing for Maui's sweetness and grace.

And then sometime during the week of the Individualized Asana course with 2 amazing teachers, it began to shift. I got very simple with my diet, and again devoted fully to the practice. This practice that at times has been my life raft and my rocket ship and my way home. The sequence designed specifically for me did it's good work to heal and empower me, and I felt myself becoming stronger. I parted ways with my teacher and my old city with gratitude and many new tools.

I enjoyed an easy week with another dear friend on the Central Coast, tasting a different lifestyle, preparing to teach and priestess at the Burn, and feeling the calm before the storm.

And Burning Man. What to say about the most beautiful, transformative, celebratory and empowering week of my life thus far?

 For seven days, in my seventh year, I got to live many dreams come true: allowing the wisdom of Yoga and spirit work to come through me in ways that truly help people; holding the spiritual vision and energy of a theme camp; dancing with my rainbow flags at dawn near the golden dragon and at dusk in the Conclave before the Man burned; hugging and laughing with dear friends; knowing, seeing, that I touched hundreds of people in positive, healing and inspiring ways. And all of it balanced by the healthiest, sweetest, juiciest, most activating and most overwhelming romantic experience thus far in my life. The pieces wove together, and the whole became more than the sum of it's parts. Being a strong teacher and leader made me a better lover, and being in love made me a better teacher. It is the medicine of the winged serpent. Our seemingly opposed principles combining to propel us into our greatest effulgence.

Ah, so.

Today is the Autumnal Equinox. The day of recognition, of taking stock, of reaping the harvest. The Wheel of the Year is in perfect balance. I sit in my lovely friends' home in Haiku, the Sun has not long set with it's accompanying birdsong and cooling. I am still spinning from it all. This year was my highest peak of seven, and I feel the most 'whoa what do I do with my life now?' ever. Though my Valley Isle has welcomed me with love and abundance, I find myself missing the mountaintop and the moments of absolute clarity I felt at Burning Man. Though I had two or three obligations everyday and was often on my way from one thing to something quite different, there was never a question that I was exactly where I was meant to be, doing exactly what I was meant to be doing, the bridge between the worlds, daughter of Spirit and Earth. I miss the momentum, the sense of tribe working together to co-create something powerful, if ephemeral. I miss feeling a part of something so beautiful. I miss a few other quite personal blessings. But Burning Man is but a week, and no one can live on top of a mountain for long.

Now is the good work to build a nest, cultivate clients here, grow a garden, swim, hike, rest and heal. Attempt to make some sense of it. Appreciate that I am getting what I asked for, though now I am hungry for even more. Doh.

In art, opposing colors are called complementary, they bring out the definition and brightness in each other. And how. When we close our eyes on red, we see green. When we close our eyes on Spirit, we see Physicality. But it's the same wheel, and all is interdependence.

So I will continue my quest for wholeness, and wait for the next buzzing and yearning in my heart that says its time to live another dream, to play another color in my vast and beautiful landscape.

Thank you for listening to your heart and mine.

~ Niema Lightseed

the roar of falling Water

ever shifting ever flowing

seeking depth in her Source

sometimes soft

a gurgle, a murmur

But oft a raging spray of foamy effulgence

rippling, murky

who knows what lies in the deep running waters?

the rush, the crush of gravity drawn element

drowns all other sounds

even my racing mind

and all illusion of time

for a moment,

it's just me with this wild liquid lifeforce

and the fairies and mosquitoes

in this grace

we are an island alone

and it just keeps flowing

like the blood from my womb

the tears from my eyes

the love from my heart

there seems no end

fears, hopes, prayers, dreams

carried along with the leaves and the foam.

Ever and anon

always different, always the same

the water falls home

Beauty is born

where Nature meets Magic

where Vision meets Presence

where Water meets Earth and stone