tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

Troutlake Abbey - Washington

This summer solstice I journeyed into the new. A stranger, in a strange land. A place in which I truly knew only one other well and a handful few acquaintances. The rest of the lot were complete strangers.

I needed the anonymity. It allowed me the ability to just be me; to not have to worry about the displeasure I could bring to someone else in simply doing so. To not have to worry about the preconceived notions of who I am, and how I am, foreshadowing my interactions with others.

This anonymity gave me the ability to just be present in the moment and appreciate the sacred space in which I found myself.

Find myself I did, in moments, here and there.

Forget myself I did, in moments, here and there.

Mostly though, I simply reveled in being welcomed and included without question of motives, intent, or whom said what about whom and what side am I on in all of societies battles.

I'm not included enough to even know the sides anymore.

Of which I am glad as it has allowed me to reconnect with the core of who I am. The honor of which was getting lost in the ideal of twisting myself into a pretzel of acceptance that could keep everything that was falling apart together. As if it was my responsibility to do so. More importantly, as if I had the power to keep it all together, when none of it had anything to do with me.

There I go again, thinking I am so important, so needed, such an integral center piece. Someone so important to all that happens that without me twisting myself in just the right way everything would simply fall apart. That if things were not "okay" again I was somehow responsible.


Everything will be okay with or without me.

It always is.

It always has been.

It always will be.

I am insignificant.

I just never imagined a time without me.

Hell, does anyone?

This solstice brought to my forefront the weariness of consistently having to prove my worth/value. It is physically and mentally tiring, as well as grating on ones self esteem. Regardless of if it was requested or self-inflicted it sucks and I came to recognize I have nothing to prove accept to myself.

I sat completely by myself at ritual. I witnessed and experienced my singularity and found comfort in knowing I am one who can survive and thrive as such a singularity.

As the wicker man burned I felt released from proving myself and in the same turn felt awakened to the acceptance of self.

It isn't loss, it is physics.

I hope the physics of my gratitude grant my orbit a continued presence in the solar system it has grown within. I accept if it does not and appreciate it's gift in my life.


tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
There is a whole cosmos in our eyes.

When we pass, the Universe leaves our body, and we can truly see the physical is just a shell of the being of eternity that we always are. We can witness this transformation distinctly through the eyes of the immediately deceased. As what once displayed to us the vastness of the Universe, of conscious, of the All at the core of us becomes void, an opaque globe that no longer holds attachment to eternity.

As I held Zen in my arms, in his final moments, I experienced this void of the Cosmos as the Universe left his eyes. I spent those moments looking intently into them and seeing the painful confusion of the last moments held inside his physical form. His body was shutting down; he was afeared and yet desperate for the end to come to him.

The beautiful Universe of his big blue eyes was held in a questioning pause. I pet his head, his paws, I held him close and whispered, "Everything is going to be alright. It is all going to be fine my fat cat, my prince. It's okay ... it's okay."

I wasn't certain if he was hearing me, feeling me, or if he was just scared and suffering. In a moment though, I knew he was with me. I stopped petting his paw and he immediately reached out to me with it. He pulled at my hand with his claws and then, like a kitten, he began kneading at it with whatever strength he had left.

I am not a big crier, yet the tears welled up from his acknowledging touch. I was looking down into his eyes still, and a small smile came to me at his touch. A touch that confirmed to me that, even though his gaze seemed so distant, he was there with me and I was a comforting presence.

Zen gasped twice within this exact same moment and then his eye suddenly became an opaque gloss, void of eternity, like the frosted window in a bathroom that protects you from others seeing in while you cannot see out.

He was gone and that well of tears escaped, falling upon his now lifeless form.

"He's dead." I mumbled at Floodplain. "We don't need to go any further. We can head home now."

During the final moments with him I should have just wrapped him up and sat outside holding him in the yard he loved so much. Instead I tried desperately to get to Dove Lewis, I just wanted to give him a shot so he wouldn't be in pain anymore. Yet all he really needed was to not be alone and I am so thankful to whatever forces lined up to allow for me to be there with him in the end. Even if our last moments together where in the passenger seat of a vehicle holding onto the false hope of a helpful destination we would never reach.

It isn't like in the movies, the body begins stiffening immediately and no matter how hard you try, you cannot get the eyes to shut.

Those eyes though ... the body was Zen as I remembered him looking, yet I knew he was no longer there. His eyes were simply empty of the Universe that held his experience of being.

In those eyes his disappearance was obvious, his death was not. Zen was simply no longer held inside the physical, he had simply left the home of body. How to explain the where of his being now, I don't have the right words, I do have the understanding of Universe though, of energy, of physics, of simply knowing that nothing truly ends it simply manifests into a new form; the primordial fire of life.

So it was I would return home and immediately begin preparing a fire pit to hold the memory of my prince, my Zen. He became the center of my hearth, the most important piece of home since antiquity. The most honored and noble of places, to gather, to love, to live, to experience and create ... the fire at the center of our hearts.

It has been four days since Zen passed, the only tears were in the moment described above. There is an emptiness that I don't want to refill. I showed his body to the other pets, so they wouldn't try looking for him. Strangely enough, as we dug the pit, everyone remained gathered around it, watching. I am not certain if they knew, or if they just knew I needed them, maybe both.

I sat into the dark, watching the flames, mostly in silence. Pants laying at my side, Floodplain sitting at the other. The Ladies even sat upon their outside perch and watched the fire, while Artemis lay upon stacked paver blocks observing from upon high. The crow that hangs out with me in my garden even joined in for a few moments.

It was peaceful ... and I miss him.


tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

Learning to walk again means ...

Sometimes I feel so selfish in becoming me. I wonder how many people are hurt in the wake of my movement towards who I want to be. Especially when that movement is meant as love, as awakening to a model of acceptance, of no longer making others feel rejected by me for who they are.

It is hard to not feel rejected when the core of how we connected was given a sudden halt signal by me. When these boundaries that were never there before have suddenly become walls of disconnection.

I recognize that as much as I have felt the sting of rejection, I too have provided that sting.

It is impossible to never say no. It is impossible to never say stop. It is learning how to do that with consideration as often as possible that I am working on. It is learning how to do it with considered forced when it may affect my mental health and physical safety that I am working on. It is learning how to do it so I no longer fear the anxiety of the reaction to the rejection that most likely will follow. It is learning to do it with confidence in knowing I am in the right to have boundaries; yet I am not in the right to purposefully hurt others because of my boundaries.

I am learning to relax ...

I want to figure out what the best of me is. Unlike so many I know I have never been good enough at anything to be considered a leader, an authority, someone to turn to for ... anything.

What have I been?

I have been a foul mouthed little girl; a representation of empty passion; jealousy's noose; a untameable unicorn; a flitting butterfly of hope; a Queen of hearts; a stir stick in the sour margarita of hope; an untouchable naked flame searching for love.

A woman avoiding the depths of the mirror while constantly looking at her reflection.

I have entered wonderland finally. Maybe I am too late to get anything out of being here. I intend to try every mushroom, to grow, to shrink, to attend tea parties, to cry until I might drown, to chase the white rabbit, to sing with the flowers, to be led by mad characters I don't quite understand, to allow the Queen to behead me this time ...

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

A friend posted an article about the pain of social rejection. Although I know it was not necessarily directed at me, I took it as such, because that pain has been a reality in my life for quite a few years now.

"Being on the receiving end of a social snub causes a cascade of emotional and cognitive consequences. Social rejection increases anger, anxiety, depression, jealousy and sadness.

After the initial pain of rejection, most people move into an “appraisal stage,” in which they take stock and  formulate their next steps.

People often respond to rejection by seeking inclusion elsewhere. Excluded people actually become more sensitive to potential signs of connection, and they tailor their behavior accordingly. “They will pay more attention to social cues, be more likable, more likely to conform to other people and more likely to comply with other people’s requests.

The article put a few things into perspective for me. For example, this "sudden onset anxiety" I have been suffering from.

What do I mean by "sudden onset anxiety"? Well, it was like, one day I had no idea what people suffering from anxiety were talking about. Then the next day I was pretty certain I was going to die.

I spent long hours trying to figure out what was wrong with me. Having been able to previously figure out how to negate the control my bi-polarism had on me, I was certain I could figure my way out of this one too. Except this time I was trying to make changes to the wrong thing - me. Unlike bi-polarism, with social rejection caused anxiety there is not something about yourself to fix, control, be aware of, or manipulate; instead there is something about yourself to learn to accept, embrace, and nuture.

The feeling of anxiety that the social rejection caused me crept in slowly. Thus, seeing a connection between my anxiety as an offshoot of social rejection never even occurred to me.

Until it finally did.

I have spent a bit of time in the stage of "paying more attention to social cues, trying hard to be more likable, trying to conform to other peoples needs and requests." I assumed I needed to do that, that there was something wrong with me, that if I wanted to keep connection to the friends I had left then I better figure out how to become a person worthy of friendship.

A person like I use to be.


Which is why it was so easy for me to assume my growth was the culprit in my losses, and thus the reason for my anxiety. My change was to blame for my anxiety, not the fact I was being rejected for it. It didn't truly dawn on me that I was being rejected. Therefore there was no way for me to connect the distress I was displaying as being caused by the rejection I was going through. I truly thought, and had fully convinced myself, something was wrong with ME just simply being ME.


It sucked so bad, because the harder I tried, the more I was rejected; the deeper down the anxiety hole I found myself falling. Yet I kept trying to make it better, falling deeper and deeper until eventually I decided to stop looking at myself and start looking at those around me.

Don't get me wrong, I don't blame anyone, I certainly am not upset with anyone. Although for a moment I was very upset. I was very alone. I was very confused. I was very tired of it all.

I was also very glad to have the gym.

The rest of this story has played out on my journal for the past few years. I am not trying to rehash any of that. Yet where am I now?

Well, I still have anxiety and dread social interaction. I am working on that though.

Part of that work consists of recognizing the moments when I am still operating within the confines of social rejection by "paying more attention to social cues, trying hard to be more likable, trying to conform to other peoples needs and requests."

I have come to discern it is this very act that grants me my deepest anxiety.

As well, I am spending more time being okay with the rejection. It still sucks. Yet it is not about me. I am awesome and anyone who doesn't see that in me can fuck off.

I have so much happiness around me, so much love, so much contentment, and such deep spiritual connection right now ... that I just don't have any desire to put myself into anxiety driven situations anymore.

It isn't worth it.

The small amount of "praise" I may get for being there and "proving" I care and am trying isn't worth the huge amount of anxiety I suffer by simply not "fitting in" anymore.

I have also come to realize that a lot of what I held fear would/could happen has simply already happened. I can't move backwards and make everything okay again.

I wouldn't want to either.

The person I have become is someone I love more than I ever have before. I hope to get to know her better and support her growth. I don't want to hold her back and cause her anxiety anymore. I want to surround her with all sorts of experiences that can brighten her remaining years here and allow her to become the representation of love and hope she dreams of being.

I am no longer willing to hold myself back so others can approve of what I am doing and who I am becoming. I have done that for so long now ... so ... god ... damned ... long.


As Dave would say:

It's times like these you learn to live again.
It's times like these you give and give again.
It's times like these you learn to love again.


tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

by TigressSky © March 30, 2015

I though for a moment
What I wanted was a continuation
Of the experience I was granted
Some ten long years ago

As I sit here waiting
For one o'clock
To call me outside
For one new opportunity
To shed my pride

I recognize
What I really want
Has nothing to do
With a worn out past
A time that could never last

Letting go is so much easier
When it isn't your hands
Opening to something new
As the old slips away

There is no blame
For your very own heart
Beating you up
Until you open

To become
To behold
To belove


Tue, Mar. 24th, 2015 11:06
tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

This is my favorite song to attempt to drum.

I suck at it.

I play it too slow. I can't do drum rolls right so those just sound like someone banging as hard and fast as they can, off kilter. As well, because it is hard for me to "get it right," I tend to hit the kit like I am trying to beat someone to death, rather than just tap out a nice steady rhythm. I also play it with my own style emphasis at differing points, (if I can even be so bold as to assume I have style and not that I just suck at drumming).

The thing is, as much as I suck at it, I love to play it. I get seriously into it. So much so that Floodplain has commented on my awesome "drummer face" while playing it.

Admittedly I don't just suck at this one song ... I suck at all of them.

I didn't realize how bad I suck at drumming over all until last night. I mean I know I am not inspirational or any drumming great. Yet I really thought I was quite a bit better than I am.

I'm not.

For the first time ever I took the headphones I bought for practicing and went out to practice last night. I sat behind the kit, headphones on, prepped myself a bit and then I started "Breed" and tried to play along.

It was horrible! The song goes so much faster than I can play. I was mucking it up, but I stuck with it until finally I was so out of sync that I couldn't play anymore.

I stopped the playback and wasn't discouraged. I mean, I know this song is hard to play, it is fucking Dave Grohl for Christs sake. He is amazing! and I am just a silly old lady who has only been trying to play, (for the first time ever in my life mind you), for the past two-n-half years now.

I started another song.

I sucked.

I started another.

I sucked.

And so the night progressed. Until I was back in the house wondering what else in life I thought I had some skill in that I actually sucked at. I had soon narrowed that down to pretty much everything.

I also found myself wondering if I was one of those assholes with too much self-confidence. You know those people who tell you how they can do this thing or that thing so perfectly. Then when they are tasked with doing said "thing" they are horrible at it.

By the end of the night I was pretty certain I was a overly self-confident no-talent asshole.

However, this morning I am back to loving myself and now I just want to get into the studio and bang the shit out of some drums until they submit to me and sound the way they are suppose to.



Although, maybe this change in mind doesn't absolve me from being an asshole.

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
It's strange, this peaceful acceptance of self has brought back so much.

I am inspired again. Like a child I find hope for my aged future.

Sometimes I still think about how much people use to care about me and how easily, and quickly that all changed. Yet it is just a fact of my life now, not some sort of "problem I have." Meaning that I am no longer spending time trying to figure out how to solve anything anymore. They still love me. As do a lot of people throughout my life whom I don't have much contact with.

Fact is this "lack of contact" does not change who I am and what I can do in this world. It instead provides less to cling to; while opening the doors to so much more to explore!

Its weird, but I realize, I have spent a long time focusing on making others dreams come true. With a major focus on making the dream(s) of community come true. Yet I stopped focusing on my goals, my dreams. I even stopped trying new things and taking new paths as I came across them.

I gave all of myself to everything outside of myself and ended up back here with just myself again.

So is life.

I suppose we all go through this from time to time though. Stopping at a train station in life, if you must, and meeting all the people in this new place. Forgetting we have a boarding-pass that can take us so many other places. Sometimes assuming that our boarding-pass has some defined expiration date, or that we have lost our opportunity, and so we simply never get back on that train.

I, however, am riding the rails again!

Mike Brodie, 18

It feels invigorating to be filled with so many ideas. So many things I want to go do. So much of this wide world to explore.

To realize that as I age I have less to lose than I thought.

When you are young you are willing to try more stupid things. Yet as you age, you can get stuck in the routine of that train station. Where you may find yourself not willing to do much of anything to step outside of the routine. Whatever that routine is - be it partying every weekend or sitting at home crafting or even simply raising a family while "slaving 50 years away at something you hate" - life becomes routine.

As if you have somehow become frozen in being.

"People come and people go, some grow young and some grow cold." ~Tom Petty, from: You Don't Know How It Feels

I am growing young and it is fucking fantastic!

No routine for me. No cold robot stuck at the train station wondering what happened to her boarding pass.

I am riding the rails! Boarding pass or not!

Now to find some trains ... choo! choo!

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

This song, Wild One, Forever, is from Tom Petty's debut album; self-titled:Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. A lot of people may have never heard this song before as the album itself came out 7 months before I was born, in November of '76.

The moment I heard it I was whisked even further into my fandom connection with Tom Petty. I could see myself in it immediately. In so much as the way my life's relationship experiences have defined me that is.

"They call you the wild one. Said stay away from her. Said she could love no one if she tried."

Then, as the song announces with fierceness, "But then something I saw in your eyes, told me right away that you were gonna have to be mine ..."

That is the hope of the Wild One. To be seen as worthy of the effort. Worthy of love. To find someone who allows the sight to go beyond that which the Wild One has come to judge as unworthy of love.

Those things in me I had come to believe were my flaws. To be loved in spite of them, or even because of them.

Floodplain brought that ideal, that hope, to me as a reality. With the softness of the next verse, "Well it's too bad, but I want you to know that I understand..."

He opened me up to a love that is more important than any I have ever experienced before - the love of self.

I love and cherish all of the other relationships that have brought me here.

I have good memories of all of them, and I choose to let go of the bad ones. That is how I stay friends with everybody. That is how I never let anybody go.

Some people have hurt me more than others and the drifting apart doesn't bother me as much. Yet if they come back into my arena, I am nice and I try and focus on the positive experiences I have had with them. Sometimes it is hard, but it is what I do.

Lately I feel like people see me as a person who doesn't meet their expectations, which makes me feel bad about who I am. Yet I know part of it is not them making me feel bad. It is me making me feel bad because I have become uninteresting and people don’t really want to make the effort for me anymore …

Don’t get me wrong, I realize people love me and people love having me around. It has been five years however; nobody calls me, emails me, or texts me. Save a few, Mistress, Turtle, and before the weirdness, Aurora.

Granted I kinda gave up contacting others, because the lack of response was getting to be to heartbreaking. I can handle alone, I can't handle ignored.

I grew up with a mom who got beat regularly for being a Wild One. This lead to fleeing regularly and also lead to a habitual expectation that this was just how it was, so, the beaters were prone to return regularly as well.

From this I learned that you have to let go of the negative and you have to cling to the positive, especially the positive you find in other people.

How else would I have been able to live with all of those guys … repeatedly … scared that mom is gonna die.

I just focused on the fact that all those guys were nice to me. All of my mom’s friends were a ton of fucking fun, just like the community is.

Seriously, I lived a life of adventure in my youth. The type of adventure that most people in their middle-age only dream of getting to experience. I got to grow up with that, and I feel like I was probably very lucky to have the mom I did.

My mom was judged pretty harshly for the type of person she was. Simply because she was more male than female. She didn't fit society’s gender expectations and she didn't have to be transgender to try.

Hell I can’t wait for there to be no more gender expectations! Old white guys are scared that the brown people are trying to wipe out the white race, still to this day. They realize that in the future race won’t matter, therefore it can't be used to control.

It simply won’t matter, because we are evolving to become race-less. Soon it will seem archaic that we ever asked the question “what race are” you on any form. Can you even imagine what life will be like when race is invisible?

Gender is on its way to being erased as well. A lot of men in general, although admittedly mostly the same old white guys, are scared by marriage equality because, “Oh my god, they are going to make it to where people don’t see gender anymore.”

This loss of gender is going to be so good though. Because it is no longer going to be bad for a woman to want the exact same opportunities, the exact same adventures, and the exact same fun as a man.

Which is what people who dislike the lifestyle of women who live like my mom, the Wild Ones, are really complaining about.

They dislike her lifestyle because she is a woman living that way. If I had been living with my dad and that was his lifestyle no one would even care. Because that is what guys do, they get drunk and fight, they are passionate about things, especially when they are single and working blue collar jobs and taking care of a child.

My mom raised me in fun adventurous environments, with crazy fucking people, from all walks of life. Most people got boring, typical American dream bullshit to grow up in. I got to be the Wild One.

free spirit

Yet what I never had was this seemingly constant, consistent, feeling of connection and love and concern for me that I had in the past within the Pagan community I found … and I needed that.

It is okay that it is gone for me right now. Just like always, I can focus on all the good, and let go the negative. Although, GOD DAMN! it took me so long to get here this time.

I attribute this slow move as a desperate clinging to the fact that I had built every ounce of my being around being the community.

I needed to feel that type of connection. The problem is, for me, it was hard for me to express my returned love in those connections, how happy I was, in any other way except for sexually. So what I personally feel like has happened ...

DISCLAIMER: I have to proceed the next statement with a disclaimer that I DO NOT regret the sex. I don’t have any qualms with people who live the poly-lifestyle. I understand, with great empathy and experience, why people are drawn to it and I don’t knock it in anyway.

Personally though, I did not really understand, until Mistress and now Floodplain helped me to learn, you can connect so well, so deeply to someone, and it does not have to be about sex at all.

I think in the end, honestly, because sex was the only connection I really made with people, (yes I know there are other ways in which I connected, but that was one of the main ways I connected the closest. The way I could really express love.), when that connection was lost, so was the connection to me.

Yet I must admit, I have no deeper understanding then this, because, as aforementioned, the connection is lost ... I don't know what or if people feel or think about me anymore.

Not that people don’t love me, or that they don’t want me around or something. I get it. I’m not the life of the party anymore. I am not interesting anymore.

That’s what I really miss. Being interesting to others. People who will talk to me about me, about things I am interested in.

Community does not connect to me anymore.

I’m not trying to be selfish. I realize I haven’t been around much, I haven’t been doing things. I became celibate, I became “prude”, I got uber-sensitive about the teasing and built anxiety about being something wrong in our community. I also realize nobody cares about that anymore – so yeah, awesome!

Yet it has been heartbreaking for me for so long to go to festival. I know I built expectations around the type of person I was. When I finally tried to explain to people that I had these new boundaries, I started with those closest to me, and their reactions made me expect the same from others.

It made it to where I just didn't want to get fucked up around anyone anymore, nor be around when the party began, even if I was sober, because I had to be fully responsible when someone was going to come onto me in their intoxicated loving state.

I have a hard time with that role, because I love everybody, and I want to express to them love from me in the way they desire of me.

I love to be needed, wanted, and most importantly to nurture love in other people. I love the feeling of giving everyone as much of my energy as they need and seeing them burst with happiness because of it.

Yet not doing it sexually was new to me, and, due to my anxiety, I wasn't really afforded the opportunity to try to learn how to express it in a different way. My anxiety being built around the expectation that if those closest to me could not respect the boundaries, than how could others.

In short I was scared, I didn't fit anymore, and I didn't even know how to try to fit anymore.

When you compile all of this into the heart of a woman, a Wild One, who takes care of herself, well, you get a woman who slowly disappears. Because a woman who can't try to make it better, who sees that the fight to change is not an option or not working, will eventually take flight.

Yet this is the longest I have ever been connected to others; ever. I clung desperately to the idea that, if I just stuck it out, if I just kept going and made changes to things I could control; leaving the fire before the party started, staying sober, then it would all get better.

It didn't get better. Instead I learned what it was like to suffer from constant anxiety. Too have your heart pounding out of your chest, while your brain worries about everything that most likely will never happen. To build a sensitivity to everything around you as if at any moment just the right thing would shatter you into pieces like glass.

The truth is, with my past, I have never really had anybody there to help me with my problems but me. I have always solved them myself, through writing, or music, art, or time with nature. I am really good at this and I don’t really feel strongly about changing it. I love this artistic part of me.

However, my clinging desperately, rather than stepping away and spending time alone with it all; topped with my anxiety, made it impossible for me to figure anything out. The art stopped coming. All I could do instead was play chess with my life. Move myself cautiously into a square and hope to not get knocked out of it.

Until the music came that is ... but the music is a whole other story.

Most of my life I was lucky to get a few years with others; and then I gotta move. Then it is time to write letters, because there wasn't facebook, internet, texting, hell sometimes there was no land-line because we couldn't pay the bill.

So I would just move and lose contact with people. I would be alone again, usually it was summer, and usually we were in the middle of nowhere. So I would be in the woods, in nature, for the summer, by myself, all my friends living in some different city or state doing whatever it is that normal kids do in the summer.

Despite all the change and loss I would have a good time. I spent my time alone, contemplating the good memories, the lessons learned, while exploring nature. I would wonder if others thought about me. Sometimes I would fantasize reconnecting later in life and all the fun we would have then.

It is silly, because I really believed I was just forgotten. Yet with social media I found out that a lot of people did wonder about me. Even some people I had minimal contact with wondered about me. It’s been surreal to be connected still.

What I also realize is that if I met up again with all these people of my past, we would sit in a room and babble at each other with true interest in each other. We would express our passions and share interest in each other. Maybe some of us would find common things to follow-up with. Maybe connections would grow and new close friendships would be made.

This use to be what community was like for me.

I realize this is what community remains or has become for so many others.

For years I have expressed a desire to have a ritual, something to study, something to do, that connects us all like this again. Something that we can all focus on and learn together that allows us all to participate with each other and have something to talk about together. Something I can be included in.

What I finally realize is this: I am the only one not connected like this anymore.

The community still shares common interests, interests I am disconnect from.

I can’t express what I am passionate about and find other people interested in the community anymore.

Hell they don’t even have to really be interested in it.

It’s like when I was dating the second Corey, and he was such a dick. I learned everything about kayaking. I don’t ever even want to fucking go kayaking, yet I know all about it. I know more about the types of boats, rapids, boaters, water levels, then I ever wanted to know about. All because I wanted to be able to talk to him about what he is passionate in.

Yet with my passions he would say he, “Didn't want to know about it,” and he, “Wasn't going to learn that shit.”

I don’t expect people to learn everything about the things I am interested in; but it would be nice if people talked to me about it. To just try taking a moment and talk to me about things I am doing too.

Because right now I realize I could make an effort to be with the community, maybe twice a month, give all the love I have and then leave, and everyone would be happy to have seen me and fine with that level of connection.

This is what I have now.

I have come to accept that this how I fit.

It sucks not being included. I know that some of that is my fault because I am not sexual anymore, I am not really focused on the party anymore, and my interest are not interesting, etc., etc. As well I am sure there are other things about me that bother people that they just won’t converse with me about.

Yet those things I can participate in make me feel awesome. Even if it leaves me only connecting to the community ever so often.

Seriously, Yule was SSSOOOOOOOOO awesome. I felt so connected. I was needed. I was able to bring comfort and love without sex. The kids welcomed me like I was the best thing since sliced cheese. People loved the meditation. I was included in conversations and some people even asked and talked briefly about things I am interested in.

I was included, I could participate … yet most importantly people made the effort to include me and participate with me.

So it is I start anew.

I no longer search for how I fit. I know the small way in which I do and it is enough; for now.

I hold out hope, that in the future the connection to community that I use to have, that so many others still have, that so many others have gained, I can find and have again. I accept, however, that this may never be ... and I hope that the small connection I do still have is enough to sustain me in community if it never does happen.

So the Wild One, becomes a Lady, a Lady Godiva on a Buffalo, playing the drums, singing her heart out, honoring her Mother.

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

It Doesn't Matter Where, Just Drive by Snow Patrol

This is a song that, once recorded, Gary Lightbody never played again. It is about the loss of his child in utero.

I found this song shortly after losing the baby. I didn't really connect to it as much then, as the loss was new, and it all felt too surreal to imagine how it fit. As well, I was certain I could just try again and get it right next time.

With time I would learn that to not be the case.

Once I lost Thomas though, well this song just broke my heart and became a constant for me. Because all the thoughts in this song they just ... for me they just apply to him ... he was real -- more real than the loss of the baby I was barely carrying in my Fallopian tube, more real than the baby I can never have myself. I have experienced the reality of being his Mom, of being a mom - and yet at the same time that reality was always an illusion.

For me, the only part of this song that doesn't fit is that, "the families all gather round," line. No one gathered round me when I lost the baby. No one gathered round me when I lost Thomas. In fact, my family made me feel like shit about it, as if I had chosen my religion over my husband and son. There was no comfort for me, only blame.

Still, some days I wonder if they were right.

As for my friends, well, the only two I had were busy with their own lives and my recent loss of pretty much everything, moving into my first place and being absolutely alone there, well, it was not a priority and could not be for whatever reasons. I don't place blame, it just is how it was at the time.


The distraction of Queendom and a community of strangers needing me, strangers that made me feel loved being just who I am, no questions, got me through a lot of things during that time.

Now however, even that is changing for me.

I question our human desire to be seen. To be known. To be accepted and understood, to be a part of something larger than ourselves, as I stand on a dividing precipice and wonder ...

Is there really anything larger than self?

I'm hurting a lot right now and, as per my norm, I feel as if I am not allowed to be. As if everyone else is more important than me.

To end this hurt, I must let go the anxiety I hold in regards to the possibility of yet even more of my connections being severed because of who and how I am as a person. In short, I must allow myself to be me and that means I must love me, not constantly worry about the me I am being and if the me I am is accepted or rejected anymore.

self sufficient

I must be okay with the fact that I just don't fit anymore. So I am.

"I don't fit anymore!" Woohoo!

While at the same time I know I still "gotta little space to fill." I am still loved, people still enjoy having me around, and that is the part I am truly grateful for. I will most likely always hope that someday, things will change, and I can have the closeness, the support, the connection, and the importance in community again. Yet for now, rather than focus on the loss, I am focusing on what I still have because what I still have is beautiful.

I still have me. I am still loved. Yes, "I still gotta little space to fill."

So it is I start focusing on that space. I become okay in alone again. It isn't a horrible place. It is simply the darkness of the Mother, of my self, of the upcoming season in which I will be born anew. Some of the steps I have taken, in just loving myself, with acceptance and assurance, are simply the signs of false labor ... my birth is coming.

So it is I return to the Gypsy, that I was, that I am, that will always remain my naked flame.

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
That moment when it finally dawns on you why some people love the same music as you and others just don't "get it" or "hate it." Or maybe this lesson is an opposite of that understanding. Perhaps it is that moment when the music shows you the chasm of difference(s) between yourself and those whom you are connected.

One chasm I have never found of equal in any other is the ability to understand and be alone. Although I have met those whom understand alone with greater or lesser a value than others; none I have ever met, ever connected to deeply, have ever "gotten me." This is why I say, I have never found equal in the ability to understand and be alone.

Very few people I know, that I am connected to right now, have any clue what it is like to be alone in this world. I mean truly alone. With just yourself and that scary fucking door to the outside that is filled with all these people that you just can't be sure will "get you" because you certainly don't get them.

Most people I know have never lived alone for one moment in their lives. Going straight from one living situation with people to the next. For example a teen moving from his parents; of which the typical first stop is not somewhere alone. Instead it is into some sort of a roommate situation, typically a roommate situation that involves a lover/partner at that. Or if they do move to be alone, they have their family or friends to fall back on and "save" themselves.

As well, most of them spent their youth in one spot, no more than two. They experienced what it was like to attend school in one school system. They learned how to deal with a social network of friendships that, even if not around now, lasted. They are use to kowtowing to, as well as creating their own, cliques and hierarchy in relationships along with knowing their place amongst them.

Simply stated, they are use to building two-way expectations in their relationships with people. Something that happens naturally when you must deal with others on a regular basis. They are use to fulfilling a role, a role typically built around set expectations of who they are and should become. Be that they take on a taught role or they follow a driving force that directs them to oppose the teachings of said role. They still work to fulfill a role expectation they have set of them-self. As well they live with others around them fulfilling the needs of roles that fit in their life, roles that they typically help shape. Be that allowing others to feel above, beneath, or at equal with them.

It is natural pack nature. As humans, being in a pack is very natural to us. We can fit into whatever pack we decide, if we just learn the expectations and find a defined way in which we fit. A role we can play, so to say.

My life, unlike most, was full of lots of alone. Lots and lots of time with just myself and a whole lot of nature. I never stayed in one place for more than a year; typically only 6 months. I did not learn how to meet expectations, or even how to build and have them of others. In short, my life was spent slipping into and out of many different "packs," and in between the packs I was alone.

To say I did not learn a role or two would be asinine. We all have roles in our lives, use of such roles is how we survive in whatever way we have been born into it or, if you believe, chosen to survive. Some of us just happen to be able to change easier and quicker than others. Able to let go of roles that serve us no purpose, or serve just to hurt, or for the role of the psychopath, letting go of roles that serve to help.

Whatever the purpose, we all have many different roles we play in our lives. Learning which roles create positive and which negative actions and interactions; along with knowing what is positive and negative to ourselves, and which type of action or interaction we wish to have, determines which role(s) we chose to progress with and which role(s) we leave behind.

Most people cling to their roles though. Like an addict clings to his heroin; they choose to keep injecting the same old stuff, for the same old experiences, looking to ensure the enduring continuation of actions and interactions that satisfy whatever positive or negative they have deemed fulfills their life. Whatever it is that keeps them feeling "high."

Wow ... how did I get here? Ha!

The point?

One of the roles I was born into I like to call "alone" and I fulfill it well.

It is in this role of alone, wondering how the hell people can "hate" or not "get" my music that I was awakened to the fact that this chasm of difference existed. I was finally able to understand why the music spoke to me so differently than it did others.


That and the fact that I am certifiable perhaps.

Here is one of those songs now ...


Father Time

Mon, Dec. 29th, 2014 12:03
tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
Athena of Hearts

I call this image "Athena of Hearts", the real title I could not find. The artist is Amanda Cass. It seems to speak to the place I find myself in right now - better than all the words I can come up with.

To try and explain to others what I am going through right now, with any term other than "anxiety", just seems to come across as if I am selfish and self-absorbed. Yet I don't know who I am anymore, I can't help but be here right now deep inside of me; and right here is exactly where my Queen is too.

I am sure we are all here, those of us connected enough to the cycle of things that is. The Queen bleeding; alone and cold. The King standing in the glory of the sun, holding it so tightly as to not notice the burnt soul he is creating within. So absorbed in the power of the light that the death, of his Queen; his kingdom; the night; is lost to him.

Except for that small piece of his heart that holds Her reins tightly. That piece of him knows her suffering well and yet still cannot accept the part He plays in creating it. Masking it all by laying the cause of the blame to Her strongly beating heart.

Until eventually even that sound, the first music, the life force, the Mother, simply is no more.

How will we survive in the greed of the light?

I'll leave that one up to the sci-fi authors to explain and explore.

For now, in the small space of life my soul holds onto for the moment, I look in the mirror and try and figure this "anxiety" out. Just me, this mirror, and a bunch of make-up and costumes that I can't get on quite right yet.

For we are all more than an moment, and yet in the moment we are.

For this moment, I come back to the safety of being Athena's right hand woman, my owl at my side. I lock away the call of my heart, as there are so many pieces that crush it right now, and so many bad decisions it wants to make for me. I instead focus on the wisdom it takes to love me, and in return, my heart.

I soaked up as much of that sun as I could while in Hawaii. I opened myself up to burn my soul. As I stepped off the plane, back to the cold mad land, I once again new the core of who I am. I can once again feel the flame inside myself.

As family invaded my space, and I grumpily prepared for their needs, I once again knew how I fit with them.

As I gifted Floodplain with items that, when purchasing, made me think fondly of just who the man I know and love is and how much he loves me, I knew how deeply I fit with him.

As I entered the site for Yule and felt the call of my community again, finally, I felt a load of anguish lift from my shoulders. I stepped out of my car and Mistress and the Moon hugged me, offered my tears and anxiety a place to release. As a Turtle and my Queen arrived soon after and offered to hold me tight. No questions asked. As I thanked the PirateQueen for "waiting for me" and hugged her Tinyman. As I laughed with and was cheered by the children. Then, at ritual, as the First Song had me holding SexyPinkLips ... I knew I fit again.

Yet I still don't know who I am.

So, Father Time, 2015 ... who am I? Do I really even need to know? Let's celebrate a toast soon and talk of where things may go. Dear Father, will you celebrate the Mother this year? Or will the power of Sun continue to be all you endear?


Take It Easy

Mon, Dec. 22nd, 2014 13:16
tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

Don't let the sound of your own wheels drive you crazy
Lighten up while you still can
Don't even try to understand
Just find a place and play your hand
And take it easy

We may lose and we may win
But we will never be here again
So open up I'm climbing in
To take it easy

Don't let the sound of your own wheels make you crazy


The closer I get to my mother, the more I truly see and love myself.

I worry about an impending loneliness while I receiving the message, "I will wait for you."

I desire to save those I am closest to, yet all I can do is offer beautifully worded hope from far outside their needs.

I feel like I am failing regularly at so much in my life, yet I am accomplishing more growth than I ever have before.

I am stuck and yet I am moving so fast ...

In life, we all want to be loved.

Part of that feeling of love comes in having our accomplishments celebrated; no matter at what age we achieve them. This is how experts are born, finding something they can try, share, fail, then become accomplished and celebrated at. It is also how strong communities are born and sustained, finding something a group can accomplish together, supporting each other, failing together, succeeding together; thereby allowing the group moments of feeling accomplished and celebrated.

Yet, as you age, or as your group ages, you begin to realize that there is less and less that you can accomplish and be celebrated for. For example, the levels in which I become accomplished in playing music: drums, guitar, and singing, (all things I have never before in my life attempted), are simply amazing! Yet because I am almost 40, rather than 14, no one cares. Or, for a group example, the set-up of an outdoor festival is amazing and celebrated the first few years it is done; soon however it becomes expected, not so amazing, and no longer celebrated.

The catch-22 in all of this comes with our human drive to extend our lives, sustain our groups, and make things last forever. As we age we begin to notice that our need to be loved, to have our accomplishments celebrated, is less and less fulfilled until eventually we feel as unseen and uncelebrated as a beggar on a street corner.

So it is, we find ourselves clinging to anything that makes us feel seen; sometimes even if that something does not make us feel loved and celebrated.

We cling to fleeting ideals of what society, with a loaded gun, points at us as "reasons to celebrate and love someone." Beauty, sex, power, strength, and so many other "accomplishments" that simply do not have the ability to sustain their effects on us. Instead these very things simply tear us down as, with age, the celebration of them dissipates into an obscure nothingness -- some faster than others.

It is hard to step away from these things though, things that make us feel so wonderful, so loved, so celebrated.

It is hard to stop looking in the mirror for a prescribed beauty that age just can't afford.

It is hard to imagine that he or she just simply doesn't desire us in the ways we still desire.

It is hard to know that the only finish line our body will work to cross anymore is time.

It is hard to empty ourselves, by letting go of these fleeting ideals that can only temporarily make us feel accomplished and celebrated ... momentarily loved.

It is hard to crack ourselves open and pour over all the things inside that require nothing more than our love and celebration of them. To begin filling our cup with these beautiful things; our very own blood, sweat, and tears. To know that if we can just love and celebrate ourselves we can continue to grow in happiness until are body crosses time's finish line.

I understand now why Mom was always searching, always moving, always alone.

Now the question remains, how full will my cup become as I pour myself into it? Is there a point at which I will reach some limit, spilling over the edges, losing parts of myself, parts of my mind?

I have already lost so many pieces and parts of my life; so many lovers, so many friends, so many addresses, so few amends.

Yet isn't that just like life? To demand that you experience it just so that you can lose it all.

What are you willing to lose?

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (Impossible Lov3)
Dear Mom,

glenn frey

I get it now.

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
I'm busy, but boring. Well, boring in comparison to those who I use to spend the majority of my time with that is. This boring-ness is an outside concept of me though, not something I feel inside of me - not something I see when I look in the mirror. Inside and out, I feel like I am still fucking cool as shit; and I am hurt that others have stopped feeling that way about me.

To each their own though.

I mean that with sincerity.

Honestly, I have been beating myself up for "not being cool enough" for far too long now. Until it was I finally realized the only opinion that really mattered on my "being cool enough" was my own -- and in that one opinion sits a woman who thinks she is fucking cool as shit. So ....

tiger tongue

... to anyone else's opinion on the matter.

Something else I recognized and stopped beating myself up for, stopped thinking I deserved, was the idea that it was okay for people who knew my boundaries and rules to continue to cross them, because the boundaries were "new."

A while back a comment was made against respect of my "new" rules; my boundaries. When I spoke that I had these new boundaries I had some tell me, (verbatim here folks), "well, we are going to keep doing it, so you are just going to have to learn how to say no."

In that moment, long ago, I thought I deserved that response.

I honestly thought, that because I had been so open before, that closing off and setting rules was something bad I had done. I made myself feel as if I deserved the forceful nature of the continued advances, the newly found continued teasing, and the statement that I would have to "learn to say no."

Although, let me clarify, that comment came awhile back, AND all of that seems to have calmed now, I'm pretty certain no interest in going to that realm with me exists anymore, and I have finally prepared myself for that "no," (a no that comes with an abundance of anxiety around thinking I will have to be forceful in delivering it).

The point I am getting at here in bringing this up is that it took this llllooonnngggg for me to realize I didn't deserve that response.

It wasn't okay.

Not. At. All.

What is wrong with me for thinking it was?

After spending all those years being told what the rules are and following them to a tee, so much so that I was practically the poster child for said rules and thereby a top name on everyone's "go" list. All that time I spent knowing how important it was to be respectful of said rules and follow them. Well, somehow I had convinced myself that my rules were not worthy of the same respect. WOAH!

How in the fucking hell had I honestly convinced myself that my rules were not worthy of the same respect?

Hawaii '14, Nov - 2

In Hawaii I lay on the beach, completely relaxed as I had finally slept with such soundness as I had only known as a child. It was because there was not one thing, one person, I had to be responsible for. This allowed for my brain to shut off.

Finally, laying down to sleep didn't consist of fighting my way through the fireworks of my brain, in an attempt to spend just a small amount of time with the elusive captain of sleep. Instead, I just closed my eyes and the captain came to me with offers of such adventurous dreams that, if it wasn't for the call of Apollo, I would never want to wake up.

It was on the second day, watching Floodplain in the waves, laying on the beach chair, my face under the umbrella, Apollo kissing every other exposed inch of me, that I just suddenly knew, my rules, my boundaries, deserved to be respected.

It was also the first time I had found myself angry at others for treating me with such disrespect. All the perfect lines I could have used in that moment to responded to the, "you will just have to learn to say no" comment, fell like droplets of angry release; sliding under my sunglasses, running across my cheeks.

I wiped them away, left them laying in that sand, watched them get kicked by cheerful kids into the open arms of the ocean; waves carrying them with a crash, deep out into that salty graveyard only Poseidon knows exists.

So it is that it finally feels done, settled. It was not, nor should it ever have been, all for me to carry anyway. So I dropped it; just stopped carrying it around with me.

I stopped carrying a lot of things during my time in Hawaii and, as the sun, Apollo, finishes his death and prepares for his awakening to birth, I too feel myself changing. Closing tight, only to prepare myself to open bright, and take hold of so many new things.

I am ready to be cool again to more than just that reflection in the mirror. I am ready to surround myself with only those who support this growth in me - be they old or new friends. Those that expect that I support this growth in them as well.

Ubuntu. Namaste. All you need is love. *giggles*

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck & anders close)
broken wings

"There's nothing you can do that is more important than being fulfilled. You become a sign, a signal, transparent to transcendence; in this way, you will find, live, and become a realization of your personal myth." ~Joseph Campbell

The sign I have become, the signal I have been giving off, is no longer one of beauty, strength, and honor. It instead portrays a woman, scared to be who she is, scared to express herself, hermitting away in a hopes to avoid ... many things.

"Some days, she deeply connects to an unnamed longing ..."~Sukhvinder Sircar

"...but, when the neurotic ambivalence is resolved, she begins to see the interactions between everything, the relation between everything." ~Anais Nin

Some of what I see is subjective, for there is no other way I can experience it. There is no other way I can see it, be with it, understand it, love it; despite it's elusiveness.

Some of what I see is objective, as facts are bound to be. They sit down in front of me, let me trip over them, waiting for me to realize there is just no way to get around them; despite my elusiveness.

It is the combining of the subjective and objective which, as if upon a bitter wind, wail the only question of importance throughout the extending branches of my life: "What are you willing to lose?"

It is the echelon of wisdom upon which my honor code is built that answers, "Until you are willing to lose everything you shall gain nothing."

It is age, it is a child who never belonged, it is a woman wanting nothing more than to be loved that wonders ... "what can I gain by losing it all now?"

The answer: Myself.

"There's nothing you can do that is more important than being fulfilled. You become a sign, a signal, transparent to transcendence; in this way, you will find, live, and become a realization of your personal myth." ~Joseph Campbell

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
I've done it wrong.

In some form I have done it all wrong. Repeatedly.

At least it wasn't with insanity.

Yet, there is no one to blame for the lonely state in which I continually find myself, but myself.

Sure, I know what pieces others have played. Yet I have always been the Queen on my chess board. Able to move however I want, whenever I want, wherever I want. The blocks caused by the other players on my board, they were momentary. Sitting in that square until it was their turn to move again.

Move they did. Away from me. Close to me. All around me. Some even knocking me right off the board from time to time. Yet the game always seems to end with the Queen -- alone.

In truth I have always just been treated as a pawn. Treated as if that "Queen thing" was just a passing phase. I dove right into it and as soon as it was over I was never contacted by my King again. Ever.

I always thought that was how it should be. That I was a bad person anyway, for causing issues in a relationship I had no right to step into the middle of. I just told myself I was suppose to hurt.

With all of the loss in connection I keep telling myself I am the one who is suppose to hurt.

It is now 7 years later; and with each loss, each judgment, each disconnect, I have just remained silent - because I am suppose to hurt.

I'm great at keeping me in my place. I'm just not so great at knowing what that place is should be.

"Curiouser and curiouser ..." Alice mumbled as she headed farther down the rabbit hole.

tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
I know it is not for me, nor about me, but every time Ms. Nicks comes out with something new it always hits home for me. It always feels like she has read my mind and knows exactly where I am at, for that moment of my life.

This song, is no exception to that rule ...

"Lady, you don't need to see."

That is the part I need to focus on. Ha! Punny!

I close my eyes while drumming now. I try and feel what it is my intuition is whispering to me. Through this I understand better how to hear her voice.

That is what intuition does, it whispers, soft and gentle. It cares about you. Never getting in your way, yet always trying to hold your hand.

Those moments when you scream out, "I knew it!"

Intuition never says, "I told you so."

I know it right now, I am listening to her voice in my ear, I am going to make it happen.


Finally remembering that in all of this I have always been alone. Always courageous. Always willing to try. Always standing upon the throes readying myself to jump - falling like Alice into the next mystery my life shall be gifted.


"This is what is called the monomyth: an archetypal story that springs from the collective unconscious. Its motifs can appear not only in myth and literature, but, if you are sensitive to it, in the working out of the plot of your own life. The basic story of the hero journey involves giving up where you are, going into the realm of adventure, coming to some kind of symbolically rendered realization, and then returning to the field of normal life." ~Joseph Campbell

A heroine in pursuit of life.

This poem, written about me so many years ago - it still amazes as too how much it is me; especially as it comes from someone who should have little clue about me.

I lost myself for awhile. Yet now I turn back to it, to the words, to the Tigress Fallen ...

Tigress Fallen
by Taylor - March 28, 2007

The tigress fallen holds her eyes with the strength of feeling that only she possesses many unique wounds along her life line of shadows and the fear-defying.

The Tigress fallen dreams that she needs little support from any sector of reality, this is false. She needs every support from the hidden forces of the Universe and secret lines of communication with them, and no support at all from the blood lines of man. Until she is done with Her work among them, in this age, they will ever deceive her in her most sacred task - much unknown, even to themselves.

The Tigress fallen is a secret Goddess, or ancient angel being/force from a forgotten story of the earth, and she was old the day that humanity was born from the earth dreams, and on that day she knew that she would die a thousand deaths for them, in the hope for the stars within. She knew how many steps of descent there were on the day she saw them born, in her destiny interwoven with their own, she knew how much they would rape of her, and she knew each and every feeling of that descent. She knew no other choice but to begin her fall on that day, when so many laughed at the destiny of man, she stayed by them to preserve the most intimate details of the unique dreams Gaia breathed within them ... so that they may always be remembered within them.

The Tigress Sky knows endless lovers ... she falls in love with them with just a glance, and then they get out at the next bus stop. And she can only smile while no one watches.

The Tigress Sky both adores and disgusts how much she must be alone ... over and over again, each night is her oblivion and her heaven, each night she can see nothing else but a kingless crown. Each night she tells her self that she only needs herself, while she cries on the inside ... and out. This makes the Tigress Sky more beautiful then any other Goddess of creation ... which only the Panthers know, because they have the night's eyes to see the Tigress cry in the deepest part of the darkness.

The Tigress Sky needs to know beyond words that all her efforts and dreams and nine-fold joy are always around her; warming her sacred feminine breasts and heart. She is naked to those that care about her including each cardinal star in the physical night sky. She covers her skin to clothe her nakedness to everything else as she is adorned with the greatest illusion of being but just a woman.

But underneath -

Underneath, she knows every step of the way ...

"This is only another death ..."

Which means this is only another chance to make it. To hear her whisper and trust her words. To trust and know myself.

Yet most importantly to love myself ... as I have so many others.

To see the Valley of Fog and this time step deep into its mist.


To wade carefully through the ideals that have held me to this spot, carry with me what I can, let go that which strains against.

Yes I must take only that which I can carry ... which isn't much as I must be open to all that will come, all that has gone, all that may hurt, all that may love. All that wills itself to be ...

I think, therefore I am.

frank turner

It’s about snapshots, not oil paintings. Find a moment, be proud you were fucking there, then go find new moments.” ~ Frank Turner

I am proud thus far - although in this depression, I find myself doubting the value I provide/ed to anyone, anything, any moment in which my heart has built upon and filled with strong memories.

With the words of, "I love you, but you are no longer allowed a place in my heart because loving you hurts to much," coming from so many I was close to ... it is hard to pick your chin up and move on.

Who else will be hurt by loving me?

Who else will I hurt by letting in?

No one.

For now, I must lace up my combat boots, put my warriors mask back on and make my first steps outside of the comfort and into the fog ... a beautiful child.


(P.S. Floodplain and I are great, happy, in love. This is not a intimate break up post.)
tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
As you age life teaches you to let go. Which may be the answer to the age old question, "Why are we here?"

To learn to let go.

I love playing the drums, it energizes me, it makes me feel good, I think about it a lot and do not get to do it often enough. Time; why do you torture me so?

At the past couple of events, where large groups are getting together to play music, there have been young teenage boys, whom also play the drums, and just one drum kit to play on.

When I wasn't at the helm of my cheap drum kit, I enjoyed every bit of the boys drumming. Yet, at the same time, I was flooded with all these feelings, all this desire, all this envy to be the one drumming and most especially to be able to drum as good as those boys. (My gods they drum good!)

So it is, while sitting on the sidelines waiting for a turn, the longing to drum would overwhelm me. I would find myself grumpy, feeling left out, not good enough, my heart feeling a very literal physical ache to play and to play at least one song as good as those damned boys!

These are the feelings, which in our youth, grant us motivation to try harder. To try harder so that we can be accomplished next time. Providing us the outlet, the drive, the desirous ability to push past and become.

Yet in our aging, those feelings lead us to also recognize that we can only get so much better before we can no longer do it at all. That we will never be as good as, or get better than, those coming after us. That our turns in the sunlight are no longer achieved by following the infinite trail leading from sunset to sunrise.

Eventually the sun just sets.

We have to learn to let go, or those feelings that come with this human desire to achieve and be will devour us. They will become our norm. They will cause us to become that grumpy old judgmentally embittered person who hates life and can't believe, let alone deal with, all the idiots in it.

~TigressSky © August 13, 2014~

We are always traveling
Into the sunset
In youth always ensured
The sunset will become sunrise
An ascending light of hope
As if by magic
From the dark
Of Pandora's box
Telling us how
In this new day
In some new way
We can achieve
We can be

We are always traveling
Into the sunset
In aging frames denied
The hopeful light
Of sunrise
Descending to stillness
There is no escape
From being locked
Deep inside
Of this moment
Right here
Right now
Is everything
We can ever be
We can ever achieve


The drumming example is a very simplistic one; yet it gets the point across. We all must learn to let go, at every stage, in order to move forward, until that ultimate moment when there is nowhere else to go, nowhere else to move. That place where nowhere is home and everywhere is exactly where you are meant to be.

All at once ... nothing.

We all work our way through to the ultimate goal of becoming nothing - no matter how hard we fight against it. It is so hard taking hold knowing the ultimate goal is to just let go. Yet at the same time it is the acceptance of this nothing, this letting go, that makes life so wonderfully beautiful.

It allows you to explore and experience every moment, every connection, every feeling, every visual, every touch, every smell, every thing visible, everything invisible, for exactly what it is and what it brings ... right now ... right here ... this moment.


I've been excited for the future often, for the possibility of some grand out come, some goal achieved.

As I travel through the desert of ideas this life presents, a desert filled with the infinitesimal sandy grains of hope. I grasp a handful and I walk, holding it close to my heart. Yet the sand continuously pours through my fingers, causing me to lose hope, and at the same time causing me to cling to it. Until eventually where I am going is made clear; and that goal, that grand outcome, well, it is all simply a mirage.

It is so beautiful though ... as I reach my hand toward the crystal clear water every mirage contains, it shatters. Shatters like glass, all the pieces that brought me here, falling away without care.

A deep breath as around me the emptiness fills in.

I open my hand to find the last grain of sand.

I must let go.

I have to let go.

I let go.

Sometimes it is harder than others. Most times I remain still, hand closed tightly around the last bastion of hope. I reflect on all the broken pieces shattered around me, all the grains of sand lost, all of hope that led me here.

How much of it was never real to begin with?

Was it all a waste of time?

Time I cannot get back.

Time ...

Is an illusion.

An illusion we stagnate in. Wondering. Hoping. Waiting. For something. Anything. To grant us the knowledge of all we are. All we must be. All we should be. All we can become. As all we are is already upon us, is all around us, if only we can learn to let go and simply be ...



If what you are following, however, is your own true adventure, if it is something appropriate to your deep spiritual need or readiness, then magical guides will appear to help you. If you say, 'Everyone’s going on this trip this year, and I’m going too,' then no guides will appear. Your adventure has to be coming right out of your own interior. If you are ready for it, then doors will open where there were no doors before, and where there would not be doors for anyone else. And you must have courage. It’s the call to adventure, which means there is no security, no rules. ~Joseph Campbell
tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)
what they want

I can't even begin to imagine
What it would have been like
To be worthy of a Cinderella story
Swept out of the poverty
And into the abundance

No need to work
No need to push
No need to try




All the time
In the world
To work on nothing
Besides that which makes me ...

Often I find myself wishing I would have never gotten fat. I know it seems vain to focus on, yet it was with fatness that I lost confidence, and what I wouldn't give to have confidence.

I have been drilling down inside of me - straight into the quick of my marrow. I can see all these things I gave up on in an attempt to be normal - just like 99% of the rest of the damned world. I don't know how else to say it other than "normal." Just because normal doesn't make me happy, does not make normal something that cannot bring happiness. It also doesn't make normal a dirty word; something bad to be.

Crazy isn't exactly all fun and games. It's rather tough to live so close to losing it all ... at any moment.

Anyway, there I go trying to explain myself so that I don't seem like an asshole.

anxiety girl

I am an asshole though.

At least that is how I have been feeling lately and, it seems, how others have seen me lately (aka - over the past few years).

So I am just going to go with it. I am an asshole. Or a snob. Whichever comes easier.

I am done trying to figure out why and what to change. No more change. I am an asshole. I am a snob. Love me anyway ... or not.

Anyway ... that tangent derailed me ... back to the bleeding quick of life.

10 things


It is at the core of being that the child lays. Put to bed, to find an endless sleep, by the constant drive to grow up, and grow up I did.

To truly enjoy life, to truly get the most out of it, you can never put the child to bed. You just can't. She has got to get up with you every morning, look in the mirror at the old which you have become, and make you laugh at it.

She has got to ride to work with you, sit in your grey cube, and give you the courage to dream of what it will take to get out of there. She should laugh at the ridiculousness of it all - for, and with you. She should inspire you to try all the new things you can, because one of them may be the best thing you have ever done.

In the end, it is she that will be there holding your hand, while all that is in this life fades away ... as it always does; in everything, in every way.


She's putting herself fully into her own care.

It is a revolutionary step for her. Far too long, she'd been separated from her own body, heart and soul wisdom. She'd lived on borrowed intelligence, alienated from her original longing. Her many journeys underground has helped her separate her genuine voice from the counterfeit one. She's not willing to live a soul sapping life anymore. She's stepping out of the only life she'd known.

She's putting her trust and vote in her deepest truth. She cannot yet pinpoint her longing. It's still shaky for her. All she knows is the feeling of rightness in her bones.She's not sure where she's leading herself in her outside world. It does not make complete sense yet. She only knows that every decision is taking her closer to her centre. She's walking through each of her fears of survival ~ her heart melting, her eyes limpid pools of vulnerability.

She can feel her spirit igniting, and she's willingly sacrificing herself in the fire of her longing.

She's going back to innocence.

    ~Sukhvinder Sircar


All the signs, all the time spent deep inside the spiral, just to awaken ... me.

The Tempest. The Tigress. The Queen and even The King.

How could I not see, feel, hear, and be?

Why did I rage against it for so long?

A fear of losing it all, when it is always on it's way out to sea.

Salty tears, the sand between my toes, a sea full of possibilities - washing in on me, washing out from me.

Opportunity, comes while dipping my hands deep into the wet moist sand, and letting it all slip through my fingertips.

How often have I let go?


We all came here to get hurt though. Get hurt or die trying.

What is life without experience?

What is experience without pain?

What is pain without love?

It is the desperation in a Orangutans eyes, caged at the zoo, all the humans staring at you. On display. Pain without love is to be on display. Trapped. No other option but to crawl out, day after day, into what little space of comfort you are granted. Crawl out and try to ignore their stares, their expectations, their judgments, their laughter at your expense.

Only there is no expense, it is all for free. The only cost is of your self. Not something others can see.

I mean, sure, they can look in your eyes, they can watch you cower away, the cost is physically written all over you - the difference is they love, they care, they are allowed ... allowed to what though?

Allowed whatever pain you grant their kind of love.

I have been writing this for a few weeks now, on and off, just coming back to it and adding, yet my Grandmother passed away and with that I have so much more I want to write about. So, this is it, as far as this rambling is concerned. I have a obituary, eulogy, and remembrance video to create. For someone that knew and gave love in a manner others can only dream exists.

So much changes in the blink of an eye.

I am done mourning the loss of what was important in my life.

I am sure I still have more to write about in this regard as I continue to process on.

Yet, as I pick myself up, I got my combat boots on, passport in my hand, a bag packed, so I can run ...


Like a painted mare, across the plains, straight into the sunset of all I have ever dreamed - maybe I am alone now, maybe I was once loved greatly, maybe that is all I will ever know of belonging, maybe I will regret every pounding hoof beat that takes me away, maybe all I have dreamed is nothing but a nightmare ...

Whatever may be, I am in charge.

Not others opinions of me.

Not others expectations of me.

Not others ...

Just me.


As I came into this world.

As I learned to experience this world.

As I have been taught by this world.

It is to be.

It is.

It has always been.


I am disappeared.

As is everything ... always.


tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (starbuck)

My last private post was in regards to the anxiety I feel before festival, especially before Beltane. Within it I convinced myself the anxiety would not be there this time, things would be different. It was there and things were not different. Although, then suddenly, they were.

On Friday afternoon I arrived. It was nice to see everyone even though the rain was a deluge and the people I am closest too were not around. I hung out, and had a great time chatting with everyone though. Then the dark came.

In this dark I was able to finally identify my biggest anxiety at festival: saying no.

As the night came on and a bit more nudity came out I began to feel overwhelmed by being put into a situation where I would have to say no.

At that point, the worry quickens, because so many of my close friends already know the answer is always going to be no, but they still persist. I then worry about having to be more forceful with my no, and I worry what people will think if I have to be loudly and rudely forceful with my no to be heard and ensure the unwanted attention stops.

Then I wonder, if it goes that far, will my close friends be mad, maybe even be mean? Or, even something less confrontational, will they tease me?

Then I worry if the community witnessing it will think I am a rude prude? Will people never flirt or joke with me anymore because of what may be seen as my over reaction? If my friends are mad at me because of my forceful no, will they simply stop talking to me? Will the small teasing they do at times now turn merciless?

In the end it all leads to, "will I belong anymore?" "Will I be loved anymore?"

I try and keep these thoughts at bay but they are always there. It makes it hard for me to want to spend time with some of my friends who seem to push and cross boundaries more often. I do though because this is my issue and I have to get over it.

I have tried at least a few times to say how I feel to my friends. That I need to not be pushed or have boundaries crossed, but it seems to lead back every time to being told "I am fully responsible for saying no in the moment." Even though ahead of time, several times, I have said "I don't want to be in the moment" because I know it is hard for me to say no.

All of this goes on inside my head at every festival as it gets dark. I have tried staying sober and focusing my attention on the fact that I have the power and it will be easier to say no sober. That doesn't help though.

I have tried being wasted and ignoring the thoughts in my head convincing myself it will actually be easier to say no wasted. That doesn't help though.

So I leave the fire and go to bed, where it is safe, and I will not be confronted with any possibility of fucking everything up that I have and love in my life by saying, "no."

All of this is hard on my end because I am glad my friends are so happy being naked and sexy together. I have not become some hypocrite who doesn't understand and thinks the sexiness that is going on is bad. Sometimes I feel like people think I think that way. I think people may feel a bit judged that I changed this part of me and they may even go so far as to think I look down upon it now.

I don't though. I just don't want to be that way anymore. I don't mind being flirty, and joking. I don't mind hugs, and small cuddles. I don't mind people's naked bodies and honestly I wish I felt comfortable enough to be naked around the fire again too.

I wish I felt free at festival again. I wish I could be the new me - who has only stopped being a slut; nothing else has changed. And no, I do not think being a slut is a bad thing. I think being a slut, especially in a way that you are treated like a Goddess, is an empowering fucking thing.

I am currently finding empowerment in so many other areas of my life right now though. Empowerment I need and may have needed since I was a child.

Deciding to be celibate really gave me some powers I didn't know I had. Finding Floodplain, (to be pun-ey), covered me in this safe watery place I can learn. Learn like a child again.

I am seeing the world with fresh eyes. I am finding hope again. I am finding comfort in where I am. Most of all I am finding comfort in being myself again.

Except when there is anxiety.

There are a few situations in my life where I still hold anxiety, but, it is getting better.

This Friday, at festival, I returned to the fire, with friends who heard me tell them my anxiety and let me know I didn't have to stay if I didn't want to.

Suddenly everyone was hugging me around the fire. Telling me they love me. Some even letting me know they have anxiety too - some even have it for the exact same reasons! Others told me that they love me and just want whatever Tig love I am allowing myself to give; no more. I relaxed and stayed down at the fire for a long time after this attention. It was fun and I finally truly knew what it was that was giving me so much anxiety.

What I learned at this festival, sitting in that tent connecting with the women who participated in the full gamete of Women's Mysteries (and there were a LOT of fun ones this year), is that if I can fuck everything up by saying no, then I don't want to belong here anyway.

I still am scared to say no.

I still have anxiety.

I still do not feel free at festival.

Yet I know what it is I need to learn now. I know what it is I need to do. I just have to find the strength to do it. I have to find the strength to not fear what I may lose and at the same time prepare to lose.

The chant we learned during Women's Mysteries will not leave me alone ...

My body is a living temple of love
My body is a living temple of love

My body is the body of the Goddess
My body is the body of the Horned One

Oh-Oh-Oh I am what I am
Oh-Oh-Oh I am what I am

You can hear it being chanted here.



tigrissky: Tiger in Green Sea (Default)

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