An Ode to Prince....Shaking that ass, shaking that ass

I was washing the dishes this morning when Becky walked in and told me that Prince was dead.  I still can't wrap my mind around that one, it (my mind) is blown right now.  I kept it together as my mind started running through my life with Prince....
It all began up at 1435 3rd, 1984, North facing bedroom.  I loved my room that year.  I had a long stereo with red velvet behind the dark braided wood; it played records and 8 tracks!  That year, I had scored an adaptor to play my cassette tapes at the rummage sale.  It changed my life!! I had also saved up enough money from my gardening job to buy Purple Rain at Bach and Rock.  Oh yeah, back to the room..I had a tea cart with crystal brandy decanters, which I kept filled with iced tea when entertaining guests (which I did often), and an assortment of fancy glasses.  I had a few swivel cushy chairs and my shell collection suspended in fishing net along a corner and across the ceiling.  I also had a plate shelf that I had knick knacks on and special things like my grandma's red high heels and an old pair of driving goggles.
These goggles gave me great insight into Prince and his sexy ways.  When I had my dance parties, in my room, I would put them on when dancing to Prince.  Daylight, Marco and Mark: throwing great house dance parties since 1984.  It's true though (wink).  I used to help organize our CCD youth dances at the Auditorium at Star of the Sea.  Heidi and I would spend hours listening to Portland radio stations for all the current hot hits; I always loved the extended radio remixes.  Got me every time.
I have just really never been able to keep it in.  I just kind of naturally burst.  I'm always wet; seriously.  Niki and her magazine.  So dance sessions in my room were always crazy; we may have been totally white small town Catholic kids, but we could offer it up and express our joy in dance!! The moment I clicked that brand new cassette tape in the 8 track adaptor and flipped the switch and turned up the volume and closed the door and my eyes as I let the music take me over.  My hand needed to explore the space around me and my body.  I had seen a few videos on MTV and had been writing my romance novel, so I had a pretty clear idea of what sexy was all about.  I may have been a hefty boy, but I could cut it up.  I was still dancing at Maddox, upstairs at the Liberty.  Jazz dance; I loved the power of the thrust and isolations.
There is something else, the afterworld....
My body is moving and shaking in ways I can not control.  I cut free, I feel my raw pure nature and spirit of adventure and expression.  I wanted to go crazy.  I could feel it way deep in my being.  Shaking and spinning and thrusting and thrusting and swiveling my hips in ways I never knew were possible.  I know, many times, I would end up just back on the bed feet flat on the mattress as I would thrust my hips skyward over and over releasing the demons that took over me and allowed me to know the strength of sexual desire.  It fueled my curiosity for ever.  Still does.
I'm really more of a hot slutty dancer than a slut.  I've never really slept around. What I love are dance floor flirts that turn into dirty dancing with lots of turns, kicks, slides and pelvic thrusts.  Never enough pelvic thrusts.
That is one gift I love to give people!! I do it via teaching pelvic isolations in my dance classes; even in my ballroom dance classes, especially when working on the cha cha.  Ask any of my adult students and they will tell you.  I make you move your hips.  I don't know why we have such fear of harnessing our core power and letting that energy shine and charge the space around us.  I love the pull you get when you are in a really great dance.  Is it weird that I am telling you this?  Well, I'm weird, so there ya go.  I'm not saying this in a sexual, like I really get turned on by you and want to have you hump me kind of way; I'm saying it in a I can feel that electric pull between us drawing our energies together and causing us to express in ways we normally don't do on the dance floor kind of way...
I love that we have those moments together!!!  The energy we create together is life changing.  We raise the roof and lift our souls up and out as we thrust, touch, turn, dip, clap, snap and step ball change our way through the music. I love that we all trust one another enough to be our open freaky fun and totally normal in my world kind of way.  We will always have our dance.  We can always express, we have the power of movement and the more ways we find to do so; the stronger in life we will become.  Dance heals us.  Dance connects us.  Nothing compares to you.
I remember living in Manhattan, I've always been one that loves to say Manhattan over New York, back in 1994 and how "Sexy Mother Fucker" was my theme song!  I could not hear it enough.  I know it was how I first learned to twerk.  Pressing my bare chest against the hunter green walls of the kitchen/living room, balanced on the pieces of foam I got out of a dumpster to make a couch with; my sling back platform shoes touching the floor as I worked my ass (barely in hot shorts) up and out bouncing my way through shaking my ass, shaking my ass, sexy mother fucker shaking my ass.  All the way across the country, shaking my ass.
I don't know you, but may I have this dance?  Eye contact is good.  I get it I have to go internal too, I have to shut my eyes and let it all wash over me and set me free, transport me beyond.  I can still feel you there, my eyes shut I see your glow, feel the rhythm of your movement quaking the air around me, your arms lifting, work, blossoms, weed, skunk, vintage suit; sex.  Filling my senses and driving me up and out, here I go again left eye to left eye, palm to palm as we swivel and shake through goddess to goddess, floating about the earth as we are held in the sweet sounds a connection unlike any we have had before.  That is why I dance.  That is why I connect.  I like being close to you. Prince, you will always guide me on.

climbing the stairs away from shame

I dress sexy to overcome the shame of my body; just as Marco dresses sexy to overcome the shame of Mark.  Who is Mark? Mark is where it all began...
This time of year, I am always confronted with the face, actually multiple faces, of Mark.  Early me.  April is sexual assault awareness month and also the "anniversary" of my second rape.  1990 was one of those years that was unbelievably incredible and completely tragic at the same time.  It was the year I first experienced sex with another man.  It was, also, the year I was raped by two different men I knew, the second being my boyfriend.
Each year, I am faced with the memories, it doesn't matter how far I have come, or how much I have learned, the shame still lingers.  Each year, the shame isn't as intense; I can actually look at myself in a mirror now without lowering my eyes.
Being Daylight has really opened my heart and eyes to the reality of my life rather than the projections of my shame that generally circle my soul.  Embracing the sexy ways of Daylight has allowed me to look at myself in a different way; in a brighter,  more playful and kind way.   In return, those new sensations allow Marco to see more clearly who I am and, this year, I have been blessed with seeing Mark smiling back at us!  Haven't seen him smile in 26 years.
This year has provided me with more breath and support for my voice.  My meditation has brought me face to face with that terrified, frightened and shame filled Mark who couldn't face the reality of his world as a survivor of rape.  Mark was too occupied with excusing the situation; turning blame on himself.  Only seeing the discarded body, a spine with child bearing hips and an abused ass of his 21 year old body.
I don't remember much from that time.  I recall moving home, but mom and dad had sold the house and were in a rental; so the comfort of my childhood home and forest sanctuary were not available for me.  I remember taking to the bed with a terrible sciatica attack for a few weeks and disappearing behind the dark room and pills.  I remember drinking to face my day and putting on a mask of joy, so that no one would know I had been raped.  I felt like the shame was so large that it was obvious to anyone who would look at me.
Enter Marco, he was new to New York, no one knew him, so he had a fresh slate and a heart full of optimism.  The path to self-love had begun.  About time! The previous 3 years had been a blur of school, cigarettes, performing, drinking and searching.  Searching for a thread of the innocence I loved about myself.  I searched for the kindness I needed to feel alive.
What I found was I learned to be alone, not lonely.  Huge for me.  I was finally able to walk by myself without fear of being attacked; that stemming from the assault my senior year of high school.  Sometimes I feel like the biggest broken record.  Stuck in the same spot; never able to move beyond. This year, as I saw Mark smiling at me, I recognized that is not the case.  I have been climbing a wide spiral stair case up from the depths of my shame.  Always staying towards the center of the stairs, never daring to look over the edge.  I took a page out of my own book, and took a step beyond my comfort zone and peered over the edge and noticed that the distance I have travelled is vast! The starting point nowhere to be seen.
I looked up and out and saw I was surrounded by the vast beauty of nothing, skies and skies open and free.  It caused me to take a breath.  The work has been worth it.  All the years of therapy and learning worth it!  That is the lesson, we are all worth the work.  Facing the issue of sexual assault and not allowing the shame to control me is the technique.  I was flabbergasted the other day when I was having a causal conversation with a friend and I made the comment that this is the first time I've actually liked myself.  I and 47.  I am so glad I figured it out because I am worth the good times on offer.
It was like the moment I first did Contact Improvisation and I have to give myself to another human; I had to give in to gravity and allow myself to be supported by another and give support in return and to move without control.  To allow our bodies to move through space and time as they must.  This lesson was brought even further to light last week at an Alexander Technique workshop and we were focussed on my ribs.  It came up that I carry my ribs more elevated.  I used to say it was from dance and theater.  The reality is, I did it so that I wouldn't shrink away and disappear.  It was my 'fake it till I make it' stance.  I was able to see it for what it is and work on letting it go; giving in to gravity, finding my water strength and giving in and rolling on.  My mantra singing within, "I am not my wounds. I am not my wounds.  I am not my wounds."

Daylight’s Awakening:scene 4

The air is ripe in high spirits and hard work; testosterone soaked linen and leather mixed with smoke and vanilla.  I am lounging on large pillows stuffed with down and covered in rich and luxurious satins and furs; alder branches are at each corner of my bed and long sheer curtains wave gently from the motion in the space beyond me.  The fire is burning is such a way that the shadows of the people gathered cast off images of fantasy I have only dreamt about. Perhaps the words of the Oracle are as true as I believe them to be.

A sudden movement next to me gives me rise; I roll over and my eyes rest on a broad set of shoulders, epaulettes of scars from battle, the stature of a Viking, firm waste and golden skin.  Delicious.  I wasn’t dreaming.  Bless. Just bless…  

As the excitement of the previous evening came to a climax a surge of power rushed into the room as a shadow passed across the room as a Viking God (for lack of any other way to describe the volume and stature of this hunk of a man) stepped into the room.  Recognition was given to him immediately as a spry young man jumped up to greet him and bring him to the Oracle and me.

The way he walks, oh my, such a stride and with such confidence in his hips and by the way his leather pants fit his crotch, I am seeing breakfast, lunch and dinner.  Golden skin and golden red hair pulling my focus to his face and the cool glow from his eyes.  They are like the most amazing light blue swirled with a creamy chartreuse and polished by the moon glowing from the depths of his soul, showing me lifetimes of patience and revolution mixed with love and understanding.

I long to be in that space his glance just revealed to me.  I close my eyes and when I open them, I am sitting on the edge of a very high cliff.  The place vibrates with the same intensity and color of the Viking’s eyes.  The air is comfortable, like a wonderfully warm day with a gentle sea breeze whispering past.  Suddenly, you are standing at my side.  You say, “You are stronger than they foretold.  As I entered I reached out to you with my eyes and you responded and are here.”

“Where are we?” I ask.

“This is the realm of my people, my ancestors are the keepers of the golden moon light and the knowledge of the within.  We are known crystals in your world; in ours, we are known as ‘Buthadilla’ those that guide to the light within.” “You are of us and with our connectivity we can meet in this realm while in yours, this interaction taking only as long as your blink.  We will speak more in your world. Now close your eyes.”

I close them, the cool warmth vanishing; and when I open them you are walking forward, a sly sexy grin on your handsome face. With a grand gesture of your arm you give me a playful and reverent bow going down to one knee and sliding forward and taking my hand in yours, you kiss it and say, “Queen Daylight, I am Edwardo, summoned here upon your awakening to aid on your Quest.  I shall serve as your council  and interpreter.  I am yours.”

As you rise, I drink you in, my mind is all a flutter….you are mine?  how do you mean? You smile.  Leaning forward, my hand still in yours I press into it and rise replying, “ Edwardo, I can’t begin to tell you how pleased I am to meet you! (my heart chakra pulsing towards his, tangible tension ) Would you mind escorting me to my chambers?” I turn and wink at the Oracle; and just like that he is mine.

You are still holding my hand as we enter my sexy and luxurious room, you scoop me into your arms and with a stride, a lunge and a dip you have me on my back and on the bed. Daylight likes, A LOT!! I can’t explain this connection.  We are strangers, but we know each other completely. I want to talk, laugh, touch, devour, listen, breathe, eat, rest upon, and climax all in this moment. You lean in to kiss me, I close my eyes.

When I open them, we are back in Buthadilla, gazing at the beyond. You are sitting next to me and in front of me and at every possible dimensional angle too, no matter where my focus goes, you are directly centered.  Your hands have mine and they are resting in a large amethyst basin full of golden moon light.  My right hand holds a crystal shard and my left rose quartz; they are vibrating in my hand and across my within, bringing ripples across the waves of my soul. 

As we breathe together, the golden silver glow of the moon washes over my entire being, so bright, I close my eyes and let it absorb into every fibre of my being.  I open myself up and let it was all over and within me, bathing me in it’s knowledge.  I keep myself open until the light begins to fade away and I open my eyes.

The glow has been contained within a glass sphere and hung from the area above by a cord of some form.  Unfamiliar sights and smells flood my senses.  Cold, dark angles of objects that seem skilled beyond our worlds knowledge.  What is this place?  These noises? Textures? I shake my head and close my eyes. When I open them, I am staring at your scarred back, the crystal shard and rose quartz in my hands. I snuggle in closer and wrap my arm around your waist and exhale.  You take the crystal shard from my hand and holding my hand in you whisper, “I’ve never encountered a realm like that last place before.  The foretelling is correct, you will bring us to where we need to be, for what comes next.”

to be continued.

shields down people; it is time for some kindness and patience....or, learning from our environment, especially those people in it

It is funny how the day can just reveal so much; the way an interaction at a store goes, greeting people you pass on the street, flipping someone off below the car window as you pass them because they clearly don't know what the hell they are doing or where they are going....just to name a few things that can tend to cause my rage button to rise and react to the situation, generally, not in a very pleasant way.  Why are we conditioned to react in such ways? Why have we been taught that treating people aggressively and without kindness is okay? Why is it so easy to hate?

These are questions that run through my mind more often than not.  They are the basis of me understanding myself and how I interact with the world.  I want to know why I do the things I do; I want to be able to control the way I let words or actions free from my physical being, I want to tame the beast that society has been grooming within me.  We should all want this.  And, then, we are challenged to stand up for ourselves, or let others do it for us, and as exchanges go on, the energy escalates and we find ourselves in rage and frustration and no one is able to listen because all we want to do is get our point across.. Even writing this, I find myself backspacing and deleting so that I can put words down that represent the quest for understanding our interactions and how to step forward with kindness.

The true lesson, and honestly the best gift, is the one we get from those in our lives.  We are so lucky to live in a time when the children are strong and they are seeing themselves and saying, "Mom and dad, brothers and sisters, relatives, friends, neighbors, teachers and preachers, this is who I am and won't you please join me on this journey?"  We are being given such wonderful opportunities to face our fears, face the things we have been conditioned to believe as wrong, and look into the eyes of people we love, maybe even created, and step beyond our comfort zone and see the world though their fresh nonjudgmental eyes.

We get this opportunity every moment of our lives by looking at the people we get to share this world with.  I get to look at you and see that we struggle and strive to keep it together and keep up appearances and all we really want and need is to accept each other and give the support we can, without hatred or prejudice or fear.  Isn't that a wonderful thing?  I believe, yes.

We can't spend our days worrying about what the neighbors are going to think.  We can't keep pushing those we love away because they are not exactly what we think they should be.  We need to stop hating one another and carrying it around with us everywhere we go.

This past week, my eyes and heart have been opened even further; the conversations I have had with the people in my life, close friends and acquaintances have made me realize that we, as a people, need to let go of the training that we have been through and stop the fighting and judging with every breath we take.  We need to take a moment and recognize, as Barbara Streisand would sing, "that we are just people, people who need people,and we are the luckiest people in the world."  Well, it seems to me that we have forgotten about people because we are too busy trying to keep the world from seeing us as the people we are.

It has, literally, taken me 45 years to get to a point in my life where I actually like who I am.  That is right, I have only liked myself for the past 2 years.  I spent my life trying to be the jewel that I thought I needed to be instead of being the beautiful human I am meant to be.  The years I spent hiding myself from the reality of my being are years I will never have again.  Conditioning taught me that I was a filthy little perverted excuse of a man; and I walked in those shoes for too many years.  Got to where I didn't even know what it felt like to walk as myself because I was too consumed at walking as I should.

If we stop and look at our lives and the lives of the people in our world around us, we will notice that we all know someone close to us who is gay, transgender, lesbian, old, handicap, homeless, rich, pious, skinny, fat; we know people of many different colors, with skin conditions, too much hair, no hair.  That recognition should bring us closer together, not further apart.  But it seems to me, each time we are faced with a revealed secret, or aspect to a person's life, we wall up and walk away.  Energetically saying, "good luck with that."

Being involved with the Lower Columbia Q Center and volunteering at the Armory has opened my eyes to reality of how mean we can be to each other.  Don't get me wrong, there is much joy and acceptance that come from these two wonderful services to our community; but sitting at the door taking money on skate nights, don't think I can't sense your judgement.  I had to call out a kid that I have known since he was born because his friends were being homophobic and so he tried to ignore that he knew me and hoped that someone else would sell him popcorn so he wouldn't have to deal with me.  He was 10.  Flabbergasted, I had to say, " your mom would be so bummed out if she knew you were treating me like this." I couldn't ignore it.

Then, walking into the high school last week; it brought those 4 years of fear and abuse back to the foreground of my conscious mind and I realized that fear and hatred can't be the rulers in my body any longer.  I can't adopt the attitudes of people around me.  I have just got to love and accept.  It solidified my prism theory: "the light from within me is reflected within the people that I interact with and when I have moments of tension or frustration of fear with people, how can I see that within myself and use it as a tool to more deeply understand how I interact with the world around me."

That day, walking through those double doors to the main hall at AHS, I knew that the only way to make it trough this world is to throw away my armor and open my eyes and heart and treat all people with kindness and equality.  It is like I learned in personal defense class, soften to the attacker, it disarms them every time.  So, I soften to the blows and words and attitudes towards me.  I don't carry your fear or frustration or judgement of me; those are your issues not mine.  I will not raise my voice to you in rage or ever match you in a hatred battle.  Instead, I will look at you with open and loving eyes and try to understand more deeply why it is that you feel you still need to hate on me or judge me or think that I am less than you because I am gay, or poor or all alone in the world; because my reality is that I live in a place with warm and amazing loving people and we all want to see each other living at our full life potential, no matter how different it may be from the way we see the world.

Let us take our lead from the poplin our lives and stop fussing over what people will think about us and just start living our lives, out loud and figure it out as we go; no concern over the mistakes or falls we make along the way; there is always a friend there to pick us up and help dust us off and encourage us on our way to continue to grow and shine and love and be kind to one another because we are all worth that kindness.  Every moment of every day.  We all hate being judged, so why is it so easy to do to others all the time.

My promise to you, is that I will never judge you.  I accept you as you are and am excited to watch you grow and express and be the light you are meant to be in this world.  I am your friend, your neighbor, relative, giggle spot, confidant and trusted companion.  Know that you are always safe with me and I see YOU!!!

As always, I am hugging you and surrounding you in love and light,
let's make eye contact next time we meet,
Daylight