I’ve built myself a closet. I didn’t really notice… I just, sort of, found myself here. Sitting on the floor and looking at the walls. They are painted nicely, the way that I would imagine the inside of my world would be painted. When I look down at my hands… they aren’t there.
Jealousy is hot red lava in my throat. There must be another way, a flip side to competition, some harmony that only love can build and nourish.
For, where I used to hide in the security of another, I have found my hope. A seed of a larger dream. Lines that move like I do, watery, wet, stream. Refreshing. Cooling lava. Making stone and steam.
Jealousy must be what kept me small. Afraid to leave the warmth of a hearth in winter, afraid to travel for fear that my space would be filled if I were gone.
I am choosing to move without a map’s direction, to learn the whispers of the stars, to trust the creatures of the forest and their offers to house me. I am learning to find space that holds me as I dance.
And I am afraid, for each step of my foot breaks what was untouched, snapping twigs beneath perfect crystals of water, bending beneath my weight.
I am afraid but I move and I pray that my steps are not ever causing harm but rather showing a way, not the only way, but my way. So that all who cross paths with me might say, “Look. Look how far you’ve traveled and how safe you remain.” And when the snow melts and Spring begins again, I pray that my path unfolds before me in blossoms whose colors call me by name.
During this reading I pull cards as a divination tool to guide me through energy work and expansive understanding to help life us beyond our blocks and find FREE and open creative expression that transcends the “walls” we build and maintain to express ourselves.
If you would like a one-on-one reading you’ll recieve more specific information and have the opportunity to ask questions and offer feedback for even more collaboration. If you’d like to book a reading like this one please check out my “Psychic Reading” sercivice and if you’d like a longer, more intense session with more hands-on energy work focus, check out my service “Guided Healing” under my “Services” tab!https://mamarose.blog/dearmamarose1562902935178654607684335501-mp4/
The first two videos are my freestyle process which, in this case, includes some singing/journaling, rapping, and also more free-form singing without journaling accompanying it.
The third video is me sharing an Oracle card reading I did for both myself and the collective while also doing and explaining some energy work.
Similarly, I do and explain a bit of the energy work that happens during my freestyling process as well.
https://mamarose.blog/dearmamarose1562212418180803320900119441-1-mp4/https://mamarose.blog/dearmamarose1562211448179452922112911511-mp4/https://mamarose.blog/dearmamarose1562213898180621720550993521-mp4/
It seems like I should feel like my heart is pulling me in two directions but this is only one…
love.
It seems like there is no space for me.
No mold to hold me.
No hands that can keep me.
An object in motion stays in motion until…
There is no force to oppose me.
There is no box to close me
I’ve tried to find the lines around me drawing and drawing and drawing but…
I can’t see a path before me, only art and this moment and this momentum
That’s speeding up and igniting the fuse again
The karoseen rises from the earth up through my feet
And I think that I might not run out, and maybe I’m not too much
And maybe nobody wants to touch me with my eyes ablaze when all I need is touch because they feel the same fire burning inside them and it…
Breaks every mold. Extends beyond the reaches of the mind and asks one to find a new vision, a new lease on life
This life is mine.
I’m not here to compromise I’m here to bring magic to the masses by doing this work, transforming my limits and hurt into freedom and reaching out in action.
A new way is being birthed through me and I breathe through every contraction
I can’t control much but I’m patient and I’m kind so I trust…
Energy healing, song writing, vocal practice, guitar practice and how it all comes through for me.This video starts out slow, as my freestyle sessions alone often do, and picks up in energy and intensity as I progress. I included a look into the “what” and “how” of my practice and explained, in many ways, how each part of what you’ll see here is connected to the other parts.I detail my passion and where it leads me, my abilities and the ways in which I like to share them with others, who I’m looking to collaborate with in the future and more.Enjoy, share!https://mamarose.blog/dearmamarose1559530042180548219350981271-mp4/
When I was waiting for Santa Claus – the night had never been longer
When I was stranded in Europe with no where to go, no phone, no map, no money and no words in their language and the people on the streets had it so much rougher than I and the man I was with couldn’t protect me and the clock never moved and time was not my friend and the ground was hard and my body cold and the sky was dropping rain that hung in the air and I was so hungry and thirtsy that each breath begged to drink it and the men in bars laughed as they walked to their cars at bar close and the one hit the other over the head with a golf club and there was so much blood and the ambulance took 45 minutes to come and the woman begging for a light had orange juice oozing from her bandaged arm as she reached toward me and the only one sober was lying but told the true stories of how the others became stranded in the night with his few words of English and only inches of personal space and spit that flew from between his two rotted front teeth and the black man danced in the street to his mp3 player and they said he’d come from Africa and couldn’t get home and no one had comfort and we all felt alone, the night had never been longer.
When we left the hostel in the forest at 4am to walk eight miles to make the train on time and the man who just spoke Spanish cackled as he took our room key back and said with wide eyes, “good luck”, as if he knew that luck was not enough to make it out alive and the trees all seemed as if they could house a predator and we had no weapons but pepper spray and a can in a sock and the women at the exit by the part that was the zoo were dressed in hardly anything and leaned into the windows of the cars they rode away in as they negotiated terms in words I didn’t know and my legs burned and burned and burned and I couldn’t stop and I wasn’t safe… the night had never been longer. The walk had never been longer.
When I tossed and turned in his bed, anxiety animating my legs and I knew, KNEW, something wasn’t right with us but I didn’t know my worth and I didn’t know love so I didn’t know what and at 4am I finally left and the giant snowflakes were orange in the light of the campus street lamps and I felt comfort as they melted on my face but I felt afraid as I walked quickly toward my car for fear of being taken but in truth he was the only one who ever took me without permission… the night had never been longer. The winter had never been longer.
When my nipples were bruised and bleeding and she would only sleep in my arms and I sat up in the bed and read the sign on the door a hundred times and I was hungry but couldn’t move and I had to pee but couldn’t move and everything hurt but everything was sweet and I was sweating through my sheets which no one told me would happen and her father was asleep because he didn’t have the milk and I was waiting for her inevitable stirring and fearing that her cry would mean I waited to long to meet her needs and was an imposter not a mother but a failure and a fraud and my mind played out scenarios where water bottles accidentally fell off ledges and crushed her head and I was so, so tired… the night had never been longer.
I wrote a poem while I was in Europe about the cruelty of time and how, still, I also trusted it to save me. I wrote in my daughter’s baby book that I prayed time wouldn’t take her from me. I wrote in my son’s that time was passing too fast.
I’m not sure if it was time that found me alive or nursed me back to health but it was time that brought me through all of those nights. I’ve almost forgotten them.
I think that it’s time.
I think I am time.
The spring is here but it won’t last,
It will fold into heat
And heat will fall into wind and leaves will rustle and break
And snow will bend the limbs… bend my limbs so far that I think I’ll break but I don’t and then…
Its spring again
But it never lasts
And I’m only ever thinking of how quickly the cold will come and swallow me up again
And in those dark days as I dream of the flowers bursting and the birds singing through and beyond the sunset
I think too of how the Spring won’t last and Summer won’t last and Autumn won’t last
And in thought… Winter always seems to be where I land…
and… tonight I’d really love to just be where I am.
