Flame of Flamazia

23 01 2009

January 16, 2009

 

This happened the other day but I’ve been too exhausted to write about it until now.

 

I finally get someone to take me ashore since Nannie doesn’t want to go.  A VERY nice young man who works on the ship said he would be happy to take me IF we would take the wheel chair along (just in case).  Not sure if I said ok because he was such a friendly man and a real gentleman, because I really needed help to go since Nannie and Elsie weren’t going, or because he was so handsome in a classic sort of way (from Rome, Italy), or I really wanted to go regardless of the obstacles.  I put on my hat, packed a few things in my satchel: sunglasses and sunscreen, a few protein-granola bars (just in case), and the walnut from the Enchanteur, of course.  Plus a few items not yet to be mentioned.

 

We chatted, as I allowed myself to be pushed in the wheel chair from the ship onto the Island and through the city streets.  Cataldo remarked that I looked like a celebrity being escorted rather than being pushed, in my wheel chair, with my exotic straw hat with feathers and fancy sunglasses with red and green polka dots on a white frame.  Pleased with the gracious acknowledgement, I just nodded each time he said this.  (He was probably looking for a good-sized tip.)  He had assumed I wanted to shop, but I kept waving him on, (practicing my royal wave), past many interesting stores I might like to return to visit, if there is time.  But at my age you prioritize your energy and time.  And I know what I wanted to do.   I wanted to dance.

 

A few years ago, after I had an outburst of anger regarding the plumber (charged too much and was too incompetent), Nannie talked me into doing a collage session about my third chakra, the fire chakra.  I had been drinking some herb tea at the time and, lo and behold, there was a dragon on the Celestial Seasonings tea box.  Perfect!  Then I found 2 similarly shaped pictures, one online and another from a magazine.  Last, a catalogue had a great picture of a compass rose.  I moved all the pictures around until I found what I liked, then glued them down.  Talking to other people, I called it my third chakra dragon; I thought of it as the Flame of Flamazia.

 

 

collage-3rd-chakra-flamazias-flame

 

After first thinking it was silly to imagine what a combination of pictures would “say” to me, as Nannie suggested (she wanted me to answer a specific set of questions suggested by someone or other from some book (I can’t remember), I secretly tried it my way a few weeks later and came up with this:

 

          I am the dragon residing at your third chakra, your fire chakra.  I give you outer-directed energy to move and dance, as well as inner-directed energy to burn up fear and anger, and to transform the fire energy into creativity.  Combined inner and outer energies become manifested creativity.  You can chart a course as to how my energy is directed and used.  BEWARE: I can burn others as well as yourself if my energies are not properly handled or used in anger.

         

Flamazia developed from that card, as I learned to release anger energy and transform it into manifesting the healing energy of dance.  Now she is a cherished aspect of who I am.

 

          I think of this as Cataldo and I chat and pass shop after shop. 

 

          “Here, madam? Here is a good shop.”  I am obviously thwarting his job with the waves from my hand.  “Keep going.  Keep going.”

 

          I finally see the sign, a small sign, but extremely colorful, mentioning the Fertility Dances.  I tell Cataldo to stop, that I want to visit this store (it happens to be the one with the sign but I don’t tell him that).  Looks like one of those New Age stores Nannie so loves, but I try to avoid although I enjoy some of the products they carry (like my Crone Stones).  But I don’t like coming out of those places with my hair reeking of incense.

 

          Cataldo assists me to stand, as if he is a Prince and I am a Princess.  I glide into the store (or so I think I do, delighted as I am with being treated elegantly).  Sure enough, filled with incense.  I ask the woman behind the counter about where the Fertility Dances were being held.

 

          “Why…um… did I hear you right?  Fertility Dances?  You want to know the whereabouts of the Fertility Dances?”  Ms. Many-Nose–and-Ear Piercings with Multi-Colored Hair stuttered as she looked me up and down.   I guess my destination was incongruent with my appearance.  She didn’t see the Princess.  Probably more like a dowager Auntie way beyond menopause, heavy set body, some wrinkles, a little out of breath from just walking to the counter, and to top it all, she probably saw me get out of the wheel chair.

 

          I jutted out my chin and glared at her, saying in my best haughty voice, “My reasons are my own.  Where?”

 

          Stepping back a bit, she nodded to a door behind her.  “Through there.  We take no responsibility if there are any problems.  None!  Whatsoever! No matter what!”

 

          “Fair enough.”  I opened the door to see a narrow, winding path on a slight incline wending through a colorful array of flowers.  I walk slowly, I look at the beauty, I imbibe strength as well as sweet fragrances.  Taking off my shoes because this is holy ground, I feel more like the real me again.  The climb is easy, but I am drawn to go off the path when I come upon a red fox (a very red fox) sitting on the path.  She waits and watches me, then moves off the pathway.  I decide to follow.  Soon I’m at the top of a hill where a glade is covered in (what I call) fairy grass.  Very fine, light green, about 4 inches tall, so fine that the slightest of breezes has it all swaying, dancing.  The fox, who had moved to the center of the glade, appears to grow larger, start to swirl, then poof! disappeared.

 

          I drop my satchel and my shoes, take off my hat and sunglasses as I listen expectantly.  The wind increases.  The branches of the encircling nearby trees dance, make music as they chime together, each pair sounding a different note.  And from somewhere, a tinkling of bells as I move to the center of the glade, wondering if I, too, will disappear from this very spot like the red fox.  My bare feet feel the earth’s vibrating energy, all slowly moving up my legs which now feel stronger and need to sway.  The energy courses up to my hips and belly, which have suddenly lost weight and now gyrate, as if belly dancing.  The energy reaches my heart, and I can feel the blood pumping stronger than ever, bringing oxygen and nutrients to every cell in my whole body.  My arms move in the unabashed joy of being as they lift to the skies in gratitude.  The healing powers of dance overcome me, as I danced.  And danced and danced.  Joy, ecstasy, thanks.  Flamazia’s flame afire as I release all the built up energy, transformed from anger and frustration to creativity manifesting in dance, as I honor and acknowledge the power of the third chakra, as I recognize the roots of anger in fear and sadness.  I dance… throwing off energy, heat and light… I am the fireworks!

 

          I wake up collapsed on the ground, not know how much time has passed.  The sun is now close to setting.  I am naked and my hair has obviously been flying all over and is now all tangled.  What happened to my clothes and hairpins?  Yet I feel so peaceful and contented at this moment, even though I know tiredness and exhaustion will settle in as my body returns to its “usual” state – for now.

 

          From the distance, I hear calls of “Osbeth!”  “Osbeth!”  They are searching for me.  I can’t allow them to find me this way. (Nannie will never let me out of her sight again.)  No matter what, this time was worth it.  A. Sachs said: “Death is more universal than life; everyone dies but not everyone lives.”  And I have lived, regardless of how people see me now.

 

          My satchel lies close at hand so I grab it and fumble around for that walnut Enchanteur gave me.  Yes, just what I need to beam back to the ship, hopefully, straight to my cabin so no one sees me like this.   The Flame of Flamazia’s fling is over!   (for now) 

 

 





Many Masks

13 01 2009
Subject:       Island of Temple People
Date:          1/11/2009    1:07:31 A.M. Central Lemurian Time
From:          Nannie89@aol.com
To:            ClarisaT@yahoogroups.com

Clarisa,

Got your very short email.   Sounds like the usual at work – either there are too many patients or not enough patients and there’s talk of lay-offs.  How is Mr. Eagen doing?  I miss his irascible behavior – much easier to deal with such behavior in a patient than in one’s mother.

Speaking of which, she wants to go onto the Temple People Island, our next stop.  I mentioned that she will be exhausted if she goes, but she insists.  Like that patient years ago who literally lived to dance.  Do you remember?  He went dancing every Saturday night – collapsed every Sun – slept to recover Sun to Wed – built up strength Wed to Saturday afternoon so he could go out dancing again.  He died the day after a night of dancing, just as he wanted – “to live until he died” – the hospice philosophy.  Everyone at hospice helped him achieve that.  Again, it is easier to deal with a patient than one’s own mother.

I saw the Carnival posters as one of the events on the Island – made me think of masks.  So I pulled out the collage card I made a few years ago and visited with what it had to say to me at that time.

***********************************

MANY MASKS

CORE MEANING:

I am the one who wears many masks

WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO GIVE ME?

I have many faces but none of them are the real me.  I sometimes can hide behind my masks as they can protect me.

WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME?

I want you to recognize how many masks you have, and also to recognize how many masks everyone else has also.  We are all wounded and use our masks as protection.

HOW WILL I REMEMBER?

When someone has on a mask I don’t like, I will remember it is a mask – not the real person.

SHADOW OF THIS NETER:

To think that all the masks are real and not just a mask.

QUOTE:

“The Mask of Zorro” – masks enable people to do heroic deeds without being known.

12-07-vals-collage

RELATED STORY:

As I watched, the woman swept by with her Mardi Gras costume trailing behind – long feathers from her purple and green mask, sheer colorful material.  She went to get her coat, and I saw her rip off her mask and throw it down.  Underneath was a scary face – red, wrinkled, black eyeliner streaking onto her cheeks, red lipstick smeared.  A frightening mask!

The handsome well groomed man approached.  “Are you all right?”

“Oh, yes.  Poor me – I don’t have the money to get home…”  Her face, now in a pout, eyes flirting, as she corrected her makeup.  This seemed even worse.

He left and she proceeded to the door.  I looked out the window as she slumped down the front stairs.  Gone were the masks – all of them.  What was left was a sad woman trying desperately to be loved.  Too desperately.  She tried so hard to be liked by others that she never looked within.  She had no face under her many masks.

***************************************

It all still pretty much applies.  I tend to hide behind my many masks – much like a chameleon.  Not sure if I’ll go to the Island, although Osbeth wants me to take her, of course.  Not sure if Elsie should go – from what I’ve heard people saying, might be too dangerous.  She can play with the other children in the nursery while we’re gone.

Write, and tell me more of what is going on.  Yes, I know – working full time and having family responsibilities doesn’t leave you much time.  Love to all – Nan

from Osbeth’s View