New Mission Statement:

The world does not owe me a living. And I don’t expect it to.

When I encounter something I don’t understand or which intimidates me, any static from fear, I will confront it and say, I will find a way through. It is not up to others to give me the understanding or the path beyond. It is up to me to utilize my resources, approach the right people for assistance, in order to see what I need to see, to do what I need to do.

I will never be helpless. Even in situations when I am down and do not have control or a handle, I will find a way to gain a handle. I will use my legs. I will use my will. I will use my resources. I will use my perspective. No one owes me anything. It is up to me to seek until I find. I will lead by example.

In the space between sleep and waking, I dreamed that I opened an email that explained that certain abilities I’d written about had been approved. I thought that meant something I wrote got accepted into publication, but when I looked up, there was a well-dressed man in my room who said, “No, your paradigm shift has been approved. All that you have premised is now available.” What do you mean, I asked, still trying to wake up, confused. My alarm was going off. It was 10:12am, time to get up. But I still had a line open with him.

“It means, go out and create. The tools you have requested have been transferred into your plane. Your paradigm shift has been approved. Reality is at your hands.”

I got up and turned off my alarm, then went back to bed. Dreamt that I was at an empty fairground, searching for these tools, like they would be dropped from another dimension in crates or something. But they weren’t tangible. I realized they would be unlocked “within the moment.” Like in moments when an “other” heightened ability is available, in that moment, I would get a chance to use it. But it would be intuitive. By faith. I just have to go about as if it were available and if it is, it will be there for me. I won’t know it’s there until it is happening.

Woke up an hour later to find a text from Rie, talking about having taken her son to the fairgrounds to watch the fireworks last night. Find it interesting how these texts come in while I’m sleeping, and I manage to pull their content with my mind and incorporate them into my dreams.

Tomorrow is my first meeting for work. I’m just shadowing our sales manager on a client visit. I drive back to CA next weekend to start work next week. In anxiety last night, I woke up at 4am and tried on some work clothes. I’d brought some outfits in case I got a job here, which hadn’t happened. Last time I wore work clothes was 2008. Amused to see I have an ass. Amazing what 2 years of not sitting in an office chair 9 hours a day will do for your body.

I’m like a boxer, ready for a championship fight. But this fight will be a marathon, not a sprint. It will be a marathon sprint, the world magnetized through me, and I am a funnel, directing it all in one direction. Single-minded. I’ve always been. Every trainer or fellow athlete always comments on my shoulders. They’re very strong. “Are you a swimmer?” No, I say. But I’m one of those people who can carry more than you would think possible. Put your dreams on my shoulders, I say. Let’s see how far I can push them into the next level. Because your dreams are my dreams. I want most to show people what giant realms can be possible. And then I want them to take it from there.

Creatives. We take what is not here, and bringing it here. We build the bridges between the realms of idea and dream, bringing them into reality. Just clear room for us to land them.

Watching a fireworks show and knowing that some person created that…feels like proof that there are people on this earth extending themselves bigger than human every day.

Paradigm shifts are easy. You just accept it as reality and let what came before go.
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Is it illegal to shoot off flares in a non-emergency situation? I’m at the marina, sitting under the 99 bridge, waiting for the fireworks show over the water. One of the boats just shot off a flare into the darkening sky and it was breathtaking.
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la push

winds like wolves
rattling earth with rabid fury
rising as storm to devour the moon
leaves darkness to swallow man with beast

in a shadowed room
defended by one single point of candlelight
the memory of a million watt smile
like a bolt of lightning turning night to day
keeps the girl safe in bed
dreaming of home.

Met a newlywed couple–Gerard is an Air Force guy from Louisiana and Christina from California. Monterey, not far from where I grew up. We met in line at the festival, then ran into each other again under the shade of a tree.

If you don’t mind me asking, what ethnicity are you?, Gerard asked.

I laughed. That has been the subject of quite the curiosity lately, I said.

He guessed Japanese. His wife asked first if I was mixed and I said, no. She guessed Vietnamese.

At least you guys recognize that I’m Asian, I said. Christina is Mexican so she laughed when I told her the stories about all the Hola’s I get. She said that when she has bangs, she gets mistaken for Japanese a lot.

Maybe wherever I go, I just look native, I said. Just generally native. Like somewhere, no one’s sure where, I must be native.

Christina told me that Gerard’s losing his hair so he started shaving his head, but he’s got issues with going bald.

I told her that I’ve been noticing lately, a lot of guys having issues with it. Even last night, when I went to check out a band, I saw a guy who was dressed like a character out of that Mel Gibson movie, Mad Max. Spikes on his motorcycle jacket, bandana around his head, lots of chains all over. But it was his expression that was the hardest, like he was just daring someone to look at him the wrong way. He was a good-looking guy in a bad boy kind of way, but his face was too delicate, too pretty to be a real bad boy. If we were in LA, I would have pegged him for a struggling actor. He threw himself in a chair and took off his bandana, and he was completely bald. A very different looking person when he didn’t cover his head. But it wasn’t necessarily better or worse, just different, but there was something about him that made it obvious he wasn’t comfortable with it. Even though he’d come with friends, he sat there sulking for a bit, then took a wool cap out of his pocket, pulled it down low before he got up to walk around. I kind of felt like it was his attitude that was off-putting more than anything. Like if he could relax and smile, it wouldn’t be a big deal. But he just seemed so uncomfortable with his own body.

Gerard, in response to Christina poking fun at him for being so concerned about his hair loss, asked her, how would you feel if you lost all your thick, beautiful hair?

I’ve actually thought about what it would be like to lose all my hair just the other night, if all of a sudden, the universe deemed I should be bald. I’ve never had thick hair. It’s always been thin, delicate, with a texture like silk thread. I figure that if I ever lost all my hair, I would just have to own it with a heightened spiritual presence, like a monk. I would probably take it as the universe pushing me towards a pretty unique path.

I told him that if we–Christina and I– lost all our hair, we would just look like aliens. And maybe that’s the point because clearly they’ve been here before, because humans are dumb. We sure as hell didn’t build those pyramids by ourselves. It’s like if you have a 4 year-old and you leave him alone in his room with crayons and come back and he’s drawn the Mona Lisa, then you know he got some help. We sure as hell didn’t build those on our own.

Christina and Gerard burst out in laughter. Christina said that Gerard’s always talking about that, too, that some other life form helped us build the pyramids. The science and precision of them, especially given the times, is just impossible for humans, he said.

I told him that you look at all the places where big things got built and knowledge dropped–Egypt, Mayan civilizations, China…we all look similar. I nodded towards Christina. I’m mistaken for Hispanic and she’s mistaken for Asian…clearly we’re interchangeable. But you take away our hair, and with our big slanted eyes, you basically have someone who looks eerily like a distant descendant of the Grey’s. We’re the original mixed breed. We’re the OG Hybrid strain.

Gerard laughed and being Caucasian, he said he felt lucky marrying into our kind. I told him not to worry. Sexy is an attitude, a state of being. If Christina looks at him and thinks he’s sexy, that’s all that matters. Because however he is, it’s who he is. Just own it.

Greetings from 3:33!

When Asian boys see me, they advert their eyes. It’s what was taught, in the presence of a general or a queen. It’s the degrees of 9. Commit a crime in ancient China, they kill 9 degrees of your family. Obedience is also 9 descendants deep.
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At beer festival. Band just gave Fremont a shout out:

I shot a hippie in Fremont. Just to watch him die.
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I am far too delicate a spirit to be put in rough hands.
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old man with beard staring at me. I turn around. From behind…

My god. You’re so beautiful.

I turn back around. Look into his pale blue eyes.

Thank you.

He holds my gaze for a really long time, then shuffles away, shaking his head.

“Golly. Where did I go wrong in life.”
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He said 9 is the peacemaker, the bridge people. always trying to build bridges, be the diplomat, make peace, connect people, things, ideas. Do gooders.

I laughed. Thought about all the talking I do about building bridges.

Yes, I said.

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I told him people keep saying, “Hola” to me on the street. I get mistaken for Hispanic.

He said he would approach me with a “How” or something. Like a Lewis and Clark expedition, he would see me as someone he gets when he meets a tribe and asks for their best translator, and I step up and he says, “Oh yeah. She’s coming with us. She’s gonna be there for the WHOLE journey.”

Funny. He saw me as Native-American.

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reality as we believe it is a machination of temporary suspension. when you wake, the circumference of the world is swallowed in a dream, and now you are someone else. But perhaps that someone else is more you than you used to be, in your life before it was dream.

Interesting article on assisted suicide in Switzerland. Particularly the quote about how people don’t say they want to die, but that they don’t want to live THIS life any more. The perspective of the dying says much about the true nature of living. There’s living, and then there’s living in THIS life. To me, the distinction is between an entity with consciousness and a temporary state.

for the forest wanderer it is the silence that awakens the trees,
when voices become too distant to bear.

a conceptual epitome

never compete for who can ache harder with someone who’s determined to win.

sometimes it is through darkness that we present light.

When random things synchronize in my life, I follow them through. Worked with a new trainer in Seattle, and I remember when he first sent an email, I experienced a strange time loop, where I didn’t know who it was from, but I knew that I had gotten an email from this address before. Except I hadn’t. It was experiencing the future as the past. I noticed he had a quote in his signature from Antoine de Saint Exupery, author of The Little Prince, from a book that had been sitting on my kitchen counter for weeks, but which I couldn’t compel myself to put away. I took this as a sign it was time to read the book.

People know I have an extensive database of natal charts–both people I know and those I am intrigued with (ie writers, actors, thinkers). The information helps me have a point of reference for understanding people and their inner workings, a way to give me a foundation to optimize my intuition when relating to people. I have worked with these symbols for so long, I have built an intimate and deeply personal relationship with them, same as a reader and their deck of tarot cards. I like to look up people’s information, then let it seep into me, so that when I interact with them, I am more able to understand their layers and polarities of personality, wants and needs, because in a way, having seen their symbols, I can now feel for them, have a better intuition for working with the holistic experience of them, and bringing out the highest potential of interaction. It is definitely not an analytical, thinking process anymore. It is definitely a background program that presents itself on a deep feeling level that takes place multi-dimensionally, tapping in.

I was intrigued by the syncs that occurred with his entrance into my life, parallels between his experience of leaping and mine, his spiritual journey and mine. In searching for his birthday to help me find a point of reference, I found his blog which is very well-written and reveals a fertile and intuitive being. I appreciate the questions he poses.

Blog here.

I’ve always noticed that I’m good at finding things, especially when they are meant to be found (incidentally, his blog even provided his time of birth, which allowed me to pull up an accurate chart, which was much appreciated). I understand some of the parallels. First of all, like me, and like Antoine de Saint Exupery, he’s a 9. The path of the prophet. Finding his writing inspires me. I hope he continues to ask these questions, to put his thoughts and ponderings out into the world. He has a pertinent voice.