Some see a tree
as hard or soft
wood, to chop
boxes to build
Some are limited
to experience only
voices of leaves
wisdom of rings
Some don’t ponder
silent, faithful growth
unfold and fold
Some unlearn secrets
long held in our blood
flowing like sap in us
reigniting the mystery
of Nature’s enchantments
I am still waiting on the professional pictures from the showcase as well as some from my friends out in the audience, but here’s a little taste:
It was a wonderful night and I am so grateful to everyone who helped me pull it off! More about the night, including pictures and video to come!
Every thing is indecent, in the right context.mayryanna
Lately, I’ve been experiencing a crisis of faith. Though my devotion to the Divine and its infinite substratum has only grown, I feel at odds with my ‘self’ in different and new ways all the time. I doubt my faith in my ‘self.’
Yet – not in the way you might suspect.
I have found my ‘self,’ in many ways, on an every accelerating path of growth these past few years and it just seems ‘logical’ that everything is suspect, including and especially me. In what way am I suspect? In what way could I not be? The list of my ‘unknown unknowns’ is endless.
I firmly believe that at any moment, everything and anything can change.
This isn’t based on literature, philosophy, science or any other type of acquired knowledge. I have lived this, over and over again. Everything and anything is always changing, including and especially ‘me.’
So, the crisis of faith ‘I’m’ having? Is the fact that my ‘self’ has been more and more consistent, potent and real as I have become increasingly detached from the outcomes it fears/hopes for. Oddly enough, symptoms include more opportunities, creativity and productivity, decreased stress, heightened awareness and empathy, experiencing endless synchronicities, high desire and capacity to learn and striking decrease in cognitive fear. It’s marvelous.
The trick? Well, I feels I’m just not taking ‘things’ as seriously and having more fun with life – but that’s not the whole story. And that’s the crisis. I finally feel that I am living my life 100% as ‘me’ without overthinking what that’s ‘supposed to mean.’
The pressure is off.
No imitations. No secondary labels. No games. Just good, honest enjoyment of life.
It’s taken years of work for me to be comfortable celebrating my inner child; working through trauma and fear that ran deeper than my memories. I have found ways to heal my wounds and learn from my mistakes. I truly have no regrets.
I have spent my life learning to navigate my gender and sexuality, both as a victim of others expectations as well as my own fears. I have hated my body, I have intentionally hurt myself, I have even attempted suicide. Yet, now I am completely at home in my Divine earthly temple, proud of its sensual essence and honored to care for it entirely.
I have been weak.
I have been tormented.
I have survived.
It feels good to be on the other side of developing these strengths. I look forward to much more pain, hardship and life’s other gloriously Divine blessings.
In these same ways that I have learned to embrace my strengths though, I have not been so well recieved. Someone who challenges their ‘self’ in this world of egomania is challenging the whole of egomania. I’m learning not to take it personally.
Despite my latest poetic video showing less skin that Victoria Secret ads or Sports Illustrated swimsuit models, Facebook denied a boost for it because it violated their so-called standards.
It’s art. It’s supposed to be provocative, and no – you don’t get to censor it just because it makes you uncomfortable.
That’s the point.
I exists mostly, as an artist, to make people second guess themselves. I am here to make you feel primordial energy again in the cold, dead, mechanized and faux world. I’m here to point out the surrealism of our so called ‘reality.’
And so here I am, in crisis. Doubting, not myself, but rather my lack of self. I’m staring blankly into the truth that permeates existence and wondering – wandering – again consumed by wanderlust…
Who’s with me?
To be sane in a world of madmen is in itself madness.Jean-Jacques Rousseau