Wooey-woo-ee

I've always been someone who believed in,

and practiced

Manifestation,

The "power of thought"

"Energy goes where attention flows"

"Go strongly in the direction of your travels, and mighty forces will guide you..."

blah blah blah...

...

I too have been someone who lives life like,

"Fuck that shit"

Noise.

It's all just a bunch of...

noise,

Gobble dee gook.

Fuck that noise.

I've been in LA, for upwards of

a lot of years,

and the last thing I can admit to being,

because it's all gone awry, so so So many times,

is...

Wooey-woo-ee.

And yet I am

powerful-

A creator,

I know that.

A friend has quoted back to me my own words,

When I stopped believing,

they reminded me,

"words matter. The world doesn't understand the meaning of a joke"

And to my reply, "well, who wants to live in a world without jokes."

I have had friends, that have been so afraid to be authentic,

all they could do was make jokes,

try my damnedest to drop them in,

I eventually realized,

thats not my job.

All this to say,

and acknowledge,

I am a dichotomy.

I had a hairdresser once,

that too had my mom

...in his chair,

ask me

"why can't you be more like your mom"

he alluded to the fact that all the acting roles,

I could ever want would simply lay down before me,

if I was just a little more..."free"

to which I could only imagine he was insinuating

His interpretation of my mom

"living wildly"

And truth be told,

for a long time,

I felt as though,

she wanted to be like

...me.

Oh so silly

A child once was...

I am she and she is me,

There was, is, and never will be any

-difference,

I am me,

because of her,

She was like me,

Because I came of her,

Cut from the same cloth.

So here I am in the land of Wooey-wooee,

where pre pandemic you couldn't throw a sage brush and not hit a

yoga teacher,

life coach,

or card carrying crystal distributer,

...

Which poses a conundrum of sorts to me...

I too am that person,

The ones who make me shudder,

reading for a desire of peace,

all the while,

walking on stilted ground,

With enough disdain for the understanding,

of the dark side of serenity,

that i keep hidden,

all because I too often have seen people who are still lost,

(myself included)

Peddling life rafts to stay afloat,

Who serve and become victim of mighty forces,

we have yet to learn to yield.

Shaking my head recalling

very real contacts who dowse

for a majority of their life decisions,

and believe fully that they have the power to banish Cancer...

FYI-

In my experience despite their guides best efforts...

to the best of my knowledge,

Cancer won...

every time.

So I am left here now,

Reframing, my entire life,

All the tenants I was raised upon,

and the magic I believe I wield,

Has been shook,

to my core,

All my guides I have trusted upon,

I feel are still whispering in my orbit,

yet I've been too tired to hear.

Perhaps I have relied on that magic all too much

for incredibly too long,

without the practicality to back it up,

in the real World,

Always Believing,

that I had the power

to do something

with my life,

To be something-

that actually mattered.

Truth is,

I'm just like everybody else,

Who wants to believe that this mirage,

this whole thing

makes any lick of sense,

Somehow, somewhere,

And maybe rather than fighting,

who and what

I've always been,

Just like that friend who likes to tell a lot of jokes,

Perhaps I dive deep in.

embrace the little girl in me that walked on fire when I was 12 years old,

and remember in the smell of wood

that my mom is the woman,

who helped build,

the log cabin,

I was born in,

And she gave me the

Middle name Azura,

It's alright to be,

a Non practicing peddler of your favorite Essential Oils

Or sometimes feel in my gut

that things happen before they play out.

There is a reason why,

I choose to isolate,

and keep a calm clear mind and heart,

And be aware of those around me.

And why should I not.

If I know that is who I am...

And the reason I make things is because,

it brings me closer to the spirit of who I really am,

Who I want to be,

The creator within,

Who made you,

and made me,

My mom got that.

She felt more than anyone I've ever known.

She was incredibly powerful,

And perhaps that is why I can smell it permeating thru LA air,

The ones who feel a lot,

The artistic ones,

the people who to some degree or not

have recognized the churning power within,

and are on the open path of learning to yield it or wield,

or not understanding that it is completely taking them over,

And not knowing why.

The feeling ones,

The healing ones.

What a beautiful gift,

to have the ability to be reborn,

and once again

heal

ourselves.