writing in reflection of the world around me //
a snapshot in time// los molinos
A snapshot in time
August 2018; Los Molinos, Spain
Talk about descent into darkness...
August, 2018: My world as I knew it had just burned to the ground— eight weeks in Berlin had been explosive and I was then about a month past the most intense energetic opening and subsequent pouring out I had ever experienced...
⎢𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 𝒃𝒂𝒓 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒙𝒕: because I really like to make things exciting, the day of this breakthrough/burndown, I manically reached out for a lifeline— the man I was dating at the time— as I had convinced myself that if I just heard "it's going to be ok Nicolette" then I could find my bearings, and instead, he broke up with me, through a voice memo from across the ocean😂... so while thats a different story, lets just say, it added a 𝒃𝒊𝒕 of gasoline to the pyre of what was being burned down— a perfect synchronicity to really make sure I left behind what needed to die off.⎥
...I was wandering, sort of here, sort of not. Piecing myself back together. Oscillating between absolutely numb, to feeling everything; from no appetite, to literally shoving as much food into me as I could to fill the hurt spaces; to try to feel something and at the same time to make it stop hurting.
And in my wandering; from the ashes of my old ideas of identity, who I was and wasn't, how I felt, what I needed and wanted, I found my way to this magical little slice of the world... Los Molinos, Spain, where I spent a few days with a woman, Marina, who walked with me, taught me and held space for my ongoing unraveling.
Outside of a few hours of sleep, we talked for almost 3 days straight; it was exhausting and beautiful.
She taught me about Enneagram, Human Design and Astrology, we both shared stories of our lives; of heartbreak, our beliefs about love and connection— an evolving concept moment to moment.
We held each other as we cried, we cooked meals and wandered around the mountainous desert landscape along the River Aguas where this little village was nestled.
It was one of those synchronicities- one of the many that summer—
a special human, with wisdom beyond her years; a big beautifully open and loving heart to hold my aching one; the healing balm of the receptive arms of the feminine energy- a respite I desperately needed. And it was in a magical crystal pool she shared with me, this photo was taken.
Feeling undone + untethered; heavy, exhausted and a little feral; and a wanting to embody— to become—the deep greens, clear waters and shimmering mica walls I was standing amidst.
Another layer, a visceral memory. A moment of gratitude for the winding path I have been on and continue to walk and the amazing souls I have encountered along the way.
⫷⚕︎⫸
Thanks for coming down memory lane with me.
With big love and hugs,
𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 + 𝐬𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭//
The writing of a new [love] story- requires an excavation of the old.
An uncovering of all that has gone unhealed, all this time. I feel their presence, so close to me. As though the thinly veiled layers of past/present/future has taken up residence using my heart, mind and dreams as the battleground to work out the unresolved, the unrequited, the long shoved away...
Oh yea, I see ghosts. But not in the way you may think. I see what lies beneath; the presence and remnants of the soul inhabiting the shell. I feel the stories, their pain and uncertainty. I know their struggle as though it is my own.
In hindsight, it was a dangerous space to be, before I understood what I was: a brief stop on a long and winding journey toward redemption. For I would invite them to come in, sit before my fire and share with me their stories; the troubles and questions lingering on the edges of consciousness; offer companionable silence- much needed and too few and far between-so they may rest easy for a bit. And as we talked, shared space- as they witnessed the truth of me- I sensed the weariness melting away, the armor being removed piece by piece; revealing a clearer version of the truth [the essence of soul already sensed].
𝑎 𝑐𝑒𝑟𝑡𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑠𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑜𝑠
𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒈𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒗𝒊𝒗𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊𝒕'𝒔 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒍𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈?
These deep and decadent scorpionic waters- a curious resting place, a kind of home- no longer running still; current{ly} overflowing with karmic memory {its all coming to the surface now}
Rosalie: a metaphor for; Taking matters into ones own hands, left hanging by a thread; the only path to freedom in a time long past. Spite, fear. Resolve. A morbid choice. {But I doubt they included that in the eulogy};
Memory housed in sympathetic spaces; a mercurial reminder of pain unprocessed; Violence. Violated. Power and Control at the expense of Sovereignty. Nowhere to go. Screaming at the top of lungs and nobody hears. All that lingers is the nothingness; the void of death;
When did this fragment of self Lose all sensation? Which lifetime, which experience was the one that finally sent that shred of humanity into oblivion?
The path to rebirth paved with questions unanswered— ghosts of times past...
Kali: on a rampage, ripping me to shreds, my insides, out; blood and guts and glitter. stopping at nothing to give me my everything. 𝑨 𝒍𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒓 𝒐𝒇 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆.
Learning to trust what I feel and know to be true.
Leaning into the uncomfortable edges; all ways, all places.
Asking for help; Speaking up; Saying no.
Survival: an unconscious motivating force;
Living: a conscious choice
Disassociation: my go to coping.
Every moment longer I stay with the feeling: a victory.
Clearing out old fear, calling back the pieces; it’s time to come home.
-an abstract perspective + full moon musings // [me and my 8th house South Node + 7th house Mercury in Scorpio taking a little ride to the depths on this familiar lunation]
𝒎𝒚 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒔, 𝒐𝒖𝒕 // 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐞
⎜meet me in the middle// bring it back to the beginning // Origin stories, autonomy, divine union birthed by balance // Take me back before it all went...
⎟There are moments- in this moment- where an anger- deep and hot and dark, churns in the depths of me. Being taken from, used, betrayed. Manipulations and control tactics implemented in attempts to stifle my flame, my potent life force; out of fear. And I'm angry. And grieving- all the fractures and fragments of my Soul that ran and hid, in order for me to survive; how I performed these amputations of self, in the name of survival. Can I forgive? Will I forgive?
⎟This anger- I feel it in my thighs, my hips and back- calling to me, stuck in a simmering ache. Also present: a grief. Attachment born from lifetimes of repression. Memories of loss come flooding in. What the fuck is all of this? Where is it coming from? [grasping for the rational- good luck with that] I am safe. I am safe. On repeat. A necessary mantra. A door has opened. The collective memoir is being released piecemeal; incoherent chapters and snippets of prose. We are absorbing [remembering]; Big questions formed, answers on the tip of tongues seemingly unable to form words to express...Dreams, stray memories that feel like visions of another time, real-time reminders through physical experience. Righteous rage and bone aching sadness and that feeling that is felt in the instinctive clench of your jaw- crushing teeth to keep from saying the thing that isn't safe, not acceptable; to keep from screaming until you have no breath left and your throat is raw...
⎟ And here I sit. What is this energy? What is mine? What have I been unwilling to surrender? What have I allowed to latch onto and siphon the life from me- what parasite have I allowed to use me as it's host. Mind grasping to sort what is a felt sense, a knowing, a purging, a reclamation. Ebb and flow. I'm tired. How can there be more?
LET GO.
Fucking let it go.
Let me go.
You aren't welcome here anymore.
It hurts too much. It now hurts more to hold on, than it does to let go.
LET GO.
Stop distracting.
Face it.
I know- it hurts.
Let it go.
I am safe.
I am safe.
I am safe.
⎜𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅 ⎜⟁ 𝟸/𝟼/𝟸𝟷
// from the journal
{two years ago, today.}
Waxing Crescent, Moon in Leo
Two years ago today, I died;
July 21, 2018, a date forever seared in memory.
many deaths took place that day.
an intricate weaving of rhythm and melody,
beautifully chaotic harmony carrying me to the agonizing crescendo;
and concluding in an indescribable synchronistic calamity.
the type of ending that leaves you breathless;
Divine cataclysm.
◇
A diamond in the rough, forged by impossible pressure, torn from the womb;
carried aboveground, delivered by the tricksters, Odin’s winged messengers
taunting me, crying out in mimicking tones; deeper into familiar uncharted territory
volcanic eruption of deeply buried memories
broken open; bleeding out
liberated in heartbreak
loss to be found; the greatest gift.
◇
[In your eyes]
stars are born, souls collide
a universe unraveled; a journey back—
to inner sanctum; to soul; to self
a sweet reprieve; the most delicious exhale
safety in the abyss
home.
in your eyes, I am home;
in your absence I found me.
oh sweet paradox.
[in your eyes]
***
{July 21, 2018: Reflecting on a day that will forever be one of the most intensely painful and transformative days of my life. Sitting with familiar tension in deep reverence and gratitude for the perfection in the unfolding.}
This was day 2 of my 28 day moon cycle writing challenge I am giving myself. I struggled to get anything to flow today, and the only thing that got me through was the commitment I made to myself and a little bit of “i’m running out of hours in the day” magic [you procrastinators know what i’m talkin about ;)]. Part of this challenge is seeing if I can notice any themes or alignment with my creativity, flow and energy as it relates to the actual moon, which is why i’m tracking it in at the beginning of each other posts. I hope you have a beautiful day, wherever you are in the world, and as always, I so appreciate your taking the time to be here, to read my words and take this journey with me.
With gratitude and always LOVE,
to shine light into the shadows // to untangle the knots in my mind // I write.