Thursday, May 8, 2008

Orange Geisha

On the fifth day of May I was bathed and baptized beneath the spout of an orange waterfall. I sat in Oshun. I walked through her sweet waters, gave her candy and honey, left a piece of myself with her...

There is this forest on Cascade Rd. that has this magical waterfall. I went there for the first time with my wise orange wild haired sister, and my tormented possessed mask wearing sister. That was another time. This time I went with my roommate, my sister of ... I'm still trying to figure that out, but she's my sister in Oshun. I brought with me an orange journal that I was instructed to burn. It was filled with poetry, sappy love poems written about the last man I dated. I hated how it felt to read them, so I had kept it in a crate in my room, never to be disturbed. Then I was told that I should do a ritual with the help of Oshun, burning the journal, setting me free.

Turns out, the ritual itself was about so much more than releasing him. It was about embracing her, and by 'her' I mean me.

I thought that I would burn the journal to a crispy ash, but it was very resistant to the flame. The paper was very thick in the beautifully bound, hand crafted journal, I hated to burn it. The embers lingered as the wind blew the flames out each time. Thick smoke stretched up to the sky like longing fingers, burning my eyes, causing rivers to flow.

Alone, I was instructed to tear out the pages with the most pain-filled writings and torch them completely. I then submerged what was left of the burning smoking journal into the fallen water, and spoke with the entities that had been guiding me; there were five of them.

I sat next to my sister on an orange mat on a rock in the middle of the waterfall and wiped the tears from my eyes. As I began to write, I felt waves of pleasure moving throughout my body. I smiled, I jumped, I divined, I prayed, I loved myself so hard.

More self cultivation in conjunction with meditation is now needed.


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