There are these breathless moments of anticipation on this path when you know that you're about to kick the doors down ninja-style and go "BWAH! Here I am!" I feel like I'm touching one of those moments, licking around the edges of it as I wait for a large block in my life to clear out. It's a delicious moment, as delicious as any can get when you're waiting for the gun to fire and that initial burst to come out of the blocks. Then finally, FINALLY, getting up to speed in a way that only I can do and that I was meant to do.

I feel like I've been playing small again. It happens. Expansions and contractions happen. You grow out as far as you can grow, and then you fall back into your issues and the lowest level that you can hold. Then you do your chores; you get to work cleaning so that you can be more clear and brighter and more full of Beauty than you ever could before.

I've done my chores. I'm ready to go out and play.

A shift of tone. A subtle dance of the fingers on keyboards. Now I move into a more prose-ey, writery space where I draw pictures and places. It's green where I live. After years of Nevada and a year of San Francisco, green dazzles me. Even after a year out here (although I've worked so much that I haven't really been out here a year). The flowers and white pollen of trees billow out across Highway 24; they dance and curl around my Toyota Corolla today as I head to Ricky's Bar to talk life, dharma, male empowerment, sex, and basketball with a good friend. Then. Stop. Traffic. Back-up to the Caldecott Tunnel. Always something making me stop. I've gone too fast. Too fast.

It's citified after the Tunnel: always a little bit of a hit in the chest as the hard energy intensifies until it hits like a hammer going over the Bay Bridge. But I don't head that way. I'm heading south.

A lot of this current movement is a rebirth of personal power, of authentic ego, of being a man in a whole new way that integrates a lot of what I've learned over the crash and burn, ah the burn, of the last three years. It's been a subtle torture; much of it wouldn't have looked painful from the outside, but it's been an inside job. It's been looking at people, cities, and jobs from the inside and interacting on that level--and taking the hits for the pains people haven't addressed. This is what happens when you the most conscious one in the room; the pain comes to you; it comes to be healed by you even if you don't know that and a lot of times it doesn't know that.

Perhaps, I've even become more than a little scary as people know that I see them...all of them. At first, some people are delighted, but then the reality that all their stored darkness and issues are being just as seen by me as their light.

I know so much now, although I still feel a little new, a little unprepared, a little green if you will. Because each day, especially this coming Wednesday, is like a new day, and I have to find out who I am again and who this authentic ego chooses to be on that day.