 | |  | | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | | Hurtling 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.
| | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | |   | | Cosmonautica: Graphic Love Songs to God and New Year Blessings | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | | |  | The Way Out is the Way Through... |
| Cosmonautica Graphic Love Songs to God |
I am so delighted to announce the publication of my book ~Cosmonautica:Graphic Love Songs to God. 
This collection of ecstatic poems represents nearly a decade of research into the heart of mythology, the study of Yogic and Sufi mysticism, and the revelations of my own quest for the Beloved. A visceral and vulnerable journey, I am both nervous and excited to give this offering to the world. If you receive it with even a small amount of the grace and transformation that went into creating it, I know we are both in for a treat. You may purchase a copy online now on this site. I speak about the process, and offer one of the poems, "love let her," in this youtube video And I am seeking distribution partners, if you would like to become a part of the Cosmonautica team and help this work reach a wider audience, contact me.  "Lyrical poetry by Yoga teacher and artist Niema Lightseed. Crafted with the bliss of the ecstatic Sufis and sages and the street rhythm of spoken word poets, this cycle that follows the monomyth model evokes the mythological imagery at the heart of all cultures, channeled into the quest for the Beloved. Edgy and ecstatic, revelatory, joyful, and spiritually sensual ~ Cosmonautica is a sweeping, visceral Heroine's Journey, an adventure into the soul of a lover on her way to the Divine; through the heart, mind, body, and words." |
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| | Happy Holy Days Beautiful Beings of Light! What a ride, this life of deep inquiry! I am truly amazed when I reflect on the transformation that this past Autumn, and all of 2011, has wrought upon me ~ and everyone with whom I speak. The continual reflection is that we are in the birth canal, all of us, and we have the choice to turn the pain of labor into bliss, but it is not always easy and requires constant presence, curiosity, and courage. It is so tempting in these times to shut down, to attempt to fall back on old patterns and stories, to look outside ourselves for the answers, to seek escape from the rawness of our birthing.  But "Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding." (Kahlil Gibran) It is by going into our ache, into our longing, into our fear, into our sadness, that we find the path that leads to our healing and growth. The way out is the way through... In my on-going search for my soulmate, I went through a personal romantic journey that rocked me to the core. It demanded a cathartic evolution in my concept of what love truly is, an opening up of what it means to hold space for my Beloved. It also sparked me to complete and self-published my book, a collection of sensual and sacred poems formed into a "Heroine's Journey" transpersonal quest for the Beloved. I realized in the process of editing and creating the overall arc, that my personal search for the Beloved has actually been a kind of Master's Degree education. Each time I have loved has brought me closer to God and made me a better poet, and this book is my thesis. From a step back, offering it up and watching it be received, I am recognizing the joyful responsibility of turning my heart-ache into heart-opening, to inspire others to such transformation. This book has been my "way through." Whether or not I ever find someone to share this life path with me, I can see now that the quest itself is the gift. For those of you on Maui, I will be having a Book Release and Birthday Party on Saturday, January 7. 8pm at Maui Yoga Shala. I do hope you will come celebrate with us. I continue to be grateful to Mama Maui for giving me a place to nest, an abundance of food and opportunities to witness my Shadow and my Light. This Aina, this sacred land, is such a potent vortex, requiring constant vigilance and clarity of intention, and offering so much to those of us willing to do the good work. I have begun assisting with the management of Maui Yoga Shala, a lovely space here on the island, and teaching 4 classes a week there, in addition to the 2 at Body Alive Yoga and Movement Studio. Class schedule here. We are open to holding workshops and trainings in Yoga and other healing modalities, if you (or your teachers) will be traveling on Maui, contact me to discuss offering at the Shala. I will be offering a New Year's Community Cleanse with my friend and amazing sister-teacher Jen Solé Weller, under the guidance of the Doctor Blossom team: January 15 - 22, 2012. I am also offering a second round of Deep Tissue Yoga Workshops with the incredibly gifted Massage Therapist Jonath Padilla: January 28 and 29. And on the Sacred Adventure front, we have begun the planning process for a Journey to Mayan Temples and highlands of Central America Summer Solstice 2012. More info soon! Gathering continues for the Yoga and Shamanism Magical Journey to the Sacred Valley of Peru, April 20-28, 2013. Registration is open, with great early bird prices for those of us who like to plan ahead! I am so grateful for the beauty, challenges, soulful yearning and healing magic of this path of devotion. I can feel the gathering energies of this mythic year approaching. Whatever truth the indigenous stories and calendars may hold, 2012 promises to be a powerful time of revolution, transformation, and planetary birthing. Thank you for holding on, letting go, and enjoying the ride with me. With great love and gratitude, Niema Lightseed |
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| | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | | raw 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 | | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | | now that the book is complete, there is space for new poems to come in. enjoy... ~:~:~ 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 | | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | | 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. | | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | |   | | Yoga for the Fuller Figure | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | | ***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 ~:~
| | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | 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... | | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | ***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 | | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | 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 | | | | |  | |  |   | |  | | | | by Niema Wilson on
 | 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 | | | | |  | |  |  |