Home, London. That deep grain hometown feeling in this amorphous human expanse. People don’t know the vast galaxies we made in the corners, central supermassive black holes that could pull us the world outside in a moment, translate out our activities everywhere in a neutron flash. Finding your strange style, and ours, in fashion on the west coast of Mexico, before I knew about the patterns life throws up, yes, but still I tend to think that one was our celestial fashion vomit. And the deep vein connection / anonymous comfortability. Our legs sweat against each other, bus seat thighs. Shades of skin and expression. Cosy down into this, shouty silent safety in the shadow of the city suited thieves and their machinations, illumination symbols twisting around the lot. A twilight Thames embankment walk with my work boss teaching me all kinds of meanings to this imagery I grew up with, always surrounding us. Brixton, Dalston, Brick Lane bustle and swirl, a jumble pot of lives, dreams and hurry… bright orange lights and glowing shop fronts at the top of late 80s Crystal Palace Hill, with its tall metal tower characters and Victorian monsters hiding in green trees. Feet out on grassy parks in warm summertime, humbum, people and people for centuries and miles and miles, views out of windows, from hilltops, endless endless habitations, vibrations, perception points. The mysteries made at playtime, breaking out our moves for shifty molecular twists, vibrating resonance in our threads and stories. Oh, dreams, customs, food, festivals, telly soaps, potions, gods, candles, a same but different choose your own adventure yearning, playing, building, oh joyous sore confusion in the gritty caged playspace, digging for an Otherworld in the dry dirt under a lump of concrete, beneath the holly tree.
Working out, feeling out
where to flow
these unrelenting injustices, complex
and desperate human battles, where,
how, to apply the lessons.
Acceptance, as a journey
through process. Be like water.
You don’t have to think,
not all the time, not in the ways
you were taught
and act from love. A cog in a wheel
that you surrender, a tipping into,
part of the pattern, flip
in-outwards… act to change, here
butterfly wings, there a trick, a word play,
soft grandmother words. In energetic alchemy,
a piece, a spin. If necessary
violence, too, to feel deep, and still keep
in allowing, work
through me… get out the way!
This is a game we play, but we
are played, danced. And we each dance
the whole dance, and we are
wholly holy, each of
us. Resistance only gravel
don’t sweat it, move, sometimes
the process needs
gravel, doubt and questions
holy holy, and you, you are
made to do this
Don’t ever doubt it. Those mountains,
those oceans, desert valleys,
are no obstacle.
For the 69 Cerne to CERN pilgrims, the stay at home pilgrims and our friends in Damanhur
Wide open heart, cracks wider, further, more
your lush expanse green mountain shores
overtake us, fully.
We become in this process, this again and again
merger with spirits, with small beings, with Gods, some assigned human at birth.
Learning those coming togethers, a flow motion,
69 mirrors, reflecting ourselves. A bus of fools particles
in shared waves of emotion
follow the clues, be like water, dance
in astonished surprise!
You see the light, in the eye? Each time
it blinks you disappear
to that gnosis feather tickle, that Great GNothing
that doesn’t exist, that is all
that is. The love growing, building in our dandelion hearts, in seeing
community of others like us – dream it, be it – in creation of a
being to make love to the everynothing, ebb
and flow, dance and oscillating power
sparks, energy tunnels up and out. Eris invited
to the party, her maypole dress rotates, green grass vision
of light, delightful play space of
vibrating particles before my eyes, waves,
dark matter. Beneath the earth, the treasure.
Finding each other in the crisp morning light,
from first foot on giant’s hill, climbing, singing,
being, the never knowing, the never why,
the ever flowing, oh my! my! my!
Learning new ways to be and become, jokes and
expression, fake teeth, toothy gums. Bright
brilliant sunlight, deep tunnels of gold. Growing and
Gknowing, new world from the old. Tree and branch,
reverse out of time, Merlin in us, seeds scatter divine
mysteries, possibilities, first fluttery wings. Whatever this is,
as it begins, inside us, unfurling, to reach out to others:
The end a beginning,
we make our way home: in each step, in each beam, in each breath
we make art, we make war, we make it,
how we don’t know,
if we did we couldn’t do it.
Step up and into each piece
between the viaducts of your dream
ferns, those spirals unfurl, the expanding tendrils of
a new world.
These days it seems amazing to me that a majority of people tend to largely accept the role they’ve been told is theirs to play in sex encounters, in gendered interactions, in relationships, and stick to it… I always knew this way of doing things wasn’t for me I suppose. Having sex as a woman, in the woman’s role in a hetero situation especially.. it never felt right. Being perceived in that way in the world didn’t either. But it wasn’t that I felt that I was a man inside either, at least not most of the time. I had close friends who were trans, and that wasn’t me. I also had people close to me who did seem more like I was, but we still had no way to define it, and explaining it even to each other was often surprisingly tough. Discovering the concept of gender fluidity in my early 30s was such a liberation. Things have come so far so fast. Finally there was terminology coming into people’s consciousness that actually expressed how this was, in my world. It took me a while to claim it for myself, but once I did the possibility of explaining this side of myself briefly to even people who didn’t know me, was amazing. A part of myself that had always been denied so much publically, even by those close, that I couldn’t help but repress it in myself was suddenly able to blossom, to exist.
Meanwhile though, an even better thing had been happening. I got together with the love of my life, who is trans but also genderqueer. Our embodied, imagination space, shapeshifting sexual play emerged very early on in our relationship, well before I even came out as genderfluid myself. It was felt out and in the first years boundaries were pushed, conversations had afterwards about the most intimate and scary feeling elements of our inner spaces. We held each other through openings of trauma spaces, surprising twists, stuck masterbatory fantasies that came up in this new open environment. We learned to use the bodies we had to be a multitude of archetypes and paracosmic possibilities. We learned to love the bodies that we had, and realised their potentials in a myriad of beings. It was pure joy and also embracing of darker fantasies that had always seemed out of bounds, or only for guilty moments masterbating. I grew a penis with my mind, we fucked with two pussies, two cocks, suckled from her beautiful breasts, tumbled through embodiments of feathered winged entities, insects, other animals, rolled through so many different scenarios of age play and incest, danced through every side of visions of sacred prostitution, torture, slavery, the pain of women and of men and of children and our own jumbled folk through time and place… became goddesses and gods, journeyed into visions of light and flowed into dimensions without a body at all. We did all this through exploring our bodies, and our minds, what they could do and be. Feeling into things as they emerge and being open and gentle with each other. Incorporating tantric techniques, breathwork, energy stuff. All sorts of S&M stuff too. And opening up what our bodies can be, being in them and understanding them. What can a woman with a penis do? A man with a vagina? All types of that sort of thing, sure. But even more so what if there are no men and women, only two sparks of consciousness in particular loving, powerful bodies, interacting and playing and becoming in each moment whatever is called for, feeling and responding, in ecstacy. Allowing the transitions to be gone through, and through this sometimes something in them transmuted as the forms change, something inside them healed, transformed and/or accepted inside ourselves. Sometimes something about our physical bodies or the visions we are in embraced, loved, held.
Nothing has ever been out of bounds, but we always listen to each other. Caring for each other is essential, checking in constantly in a way that doesn’t break the flow. I’d never felt so able to call things to a halt if necessary, so sure that would be heard at once. Or indeed to be able to just gently move things in a different direction as they flowed if necessary. It has made me realise how many people have not fully taken that approach in previous relationships I’ve had. And I always make sure I’m tuned in enough to be as responsive as that myself too. Of course very occasionally small mistakes happen. We’ve been at this seven years. When they do it’s how that’s responded to too, taking care and never getting defensive.
So why am I writing about this? I’m really very happy to keep this loveliness between ourselves, but I guess I want to find ways to let people know, who may not know, that we don’t have to accept that we are just what we are told we are, in sex, in the world. I want to open up the imaginative space of genderfludity and sex, and not just for those of us on the front line of gender, for everyone. I’m sure there are loads of people working and playing in similar ways in their sex lives, and in other ways. I’ve certainly read the odd blog that talks about parts of this really beautifully. But encounters with the kink world as it is out there have honestly (disappointingly) seemed to me almost as limited in really exploring these mutating, flowing possibilities of sexual embodiment, as vanilla sex is. I hope there are avenues of it that are consciously doing this stuff, and I’m certain there are loads of individuals, couples and groups who are… but if there are wider threads that are open about and encouraging of this they don’t seem easy to find. So much has opened up in recent years. Yet the stories we are telling ourselves about sex and sexual play are still so two dimensional. And especially in the straight world they are often so overwhelmingly binary. Even where pathways open to play roles other than ourselves they are often so defined and stuck by gender…
It astounds me to remember how trapped I felt in the past into playing a role.. that importantly never felt right… but also primarily was just so limited. These bodies, these minds, our imaginations and the energy that flows through us… we are able to do and be and embody and play out so much more than we are told we are. And it’s a wonderful way to live, and deeply helpful and healing too. I hope, if this resonates and you aren’t already getting up to such things, that you go out there and play with your own deep inner worlds, find others who are open to this, unafraid and loving, or open up such possibilities with your partner. Do so on your own too, open yourself to loving all your parts, transform masterbatory experiences by flowing through the things that have made you ashamed and allowing them to be loved, felt and to twist and move.
I hope you know that you don’t have to be a woman all the time. You don’t have to be a man all the time. You don’t have to stick to the roles that would be expected of whichever of those you may happen to be mostly in life. We don’t have to stick to anything. Our bodies and minds are much more open places than they may seem. These explorations can be pathways to healing too, although like all healing it is strange and imperfect, I have really found this to be the case. I’ve not gone into details of that side of things here, but yes, and in my experience it doesn’t need to be thought about too hard, just felt into deeply with love and acceptance, and things happen. And what fun it is too! There is so much to explore!
You can feel the focus make it worse
the explanation, definition
repetition. Panicked eyes a
to urgent unpacking, but where? No space.
You’d better get a
mat down, open some
time loops. This
Hop, skip, jump
tip-toed stardancer, soft
a slow trudge
to the station
won’t save you. She never
shows her face, not
to you, not to anyone.
That isn’t part of the game.
Don’t sweat it, sweaty.
It’s Halloween, Samhain, so
many spirals travelled
open-veiled, too many
not to disappear
at these times, a blessed
curse, this year found
many ancestors, too. Last year
you were in the process,
you didn’t dare speak it,
last year was a different thing
entirely, with scope to research,
and you forgot to light the fire.
the repetition intensifies,
so many loops.
You’ve never been here.
This time, an o p e n i n g ,
mucky pupped with
ghouls and white noise
blankets. Follow the star, remembering
how to dance light-footed, shed,
discard, unguarded, fearless.
Space can still be made for this,
in these worldly times of gathering
and it must.
The transformation exists,
it is underneath. Its time is now.
I, seven layer burrito
~ every shimmer of empty moment space
Those boy/girl things. Girlie boy, boyish girl things.
Race into the park after dark, fizz-shimmer of dungarees, muddy paws,
don’t stop bawling, BMX, rock kid beatnik posing. Tumble deep inner world
of creation, girlz run the world OK, in delight in strong friendships,
nurture potential, hunker down and make a world not founded on
all of this.
in deep magic,
big breast mama, all and many,
pure and endless giving. // In shuddering, perverse,
masc effeminacy sensation, in free flying, sun of
atomic fusion process, hair in wind,
tall pretty prince of my dreams, myself to
save me, the world, boys
and girls of immateria, our transience, found in
your grace, shy swagger.
peel back, discover
you don’t want to but it happens and
you do want to,
grabbing manchild all power
push, the worst, in, out
a panic of drive, bug greedy for
land – all actor, forget to see
humanity, see godspark in
self or other – so fearful, so broken
make tight tangle spark
electricity with hurt
soul, girl. Strange seat of abandonment
I am her
soul, woman. Strange seat of abandonment
howl, eternity in shit and puke
Death, alone – that whole hole is there
it seems, in this now. In both sides of the switch, relation.
All these are all, beings, godhead –
this being what is left if we leave out the animals ~
the smash bash panic of it all – and ~ breathe ~
feel into the spaces, personify,
allow these relations to smash, waves on shores,
break apart into the nothing they are, and ~
the you that speaks to me as I do so,
strong presence, holds,
feels out with me, plays in the
deep darkness with, and guides through become
wildest Light, you, brightest , bestest
masculine energy – you are me, too ~
~ spasm` out and small girl, yearning in haze
of sensation and realising – in
climbing rocks and rolling down hillsides,
in explorations on beds and tactile wonders
through landscape soundscapes,
all waterfall meanders, light through trees
and rocks and wind in leaves across
oceans of desire, curiouser and curiouser to
imagine being proud and possible
beaming in expanse with skill and openness ~
boy in desert girl, holed up in all things,
in longings for the ‘pre-op’
girls in phone boxes, perfectly strange
parrot of patriarchal scum phrases
‘best of both worlds’ in ~ not realising
that this ~ feeling ! is not how
everyone feels, secretly
inside (don’t they?), but who are they and
what is it , gay boy in a
young woman’s body vision ~ how is it
possible to make a world out of? That’s not how I ~
~ what I
how is it possible? To glitter and dress up, eye
liner and neon lights in dark corners
poppoppopop pop !
Claim a stake in some kind of being here,
hole up and make a life here (new life, new life)
to spin out shake out sister,
be the best girl, a woman
all breasts and love women and love those women and be also otherwise and be women and love them.
What is magic? We used to meet in Owold, and we were in deep, forget-me-not-forever assisting each other, learning to process together in actions and energy sharing. Exploring territories that were unfathomable, discovering where the shared experience began and ended, dreaming together in separate dreams full of intersections. The dimensionality of imaginary space. A time of innocence, another childhood of experience in some ways, a peak experience too. The moment it happened, you said, the world you inhabited was completely destroyed, and all sense of you with it. As you emerged anew you saw how where we live is the universe contained in our own heads. You saw a web of meaning that stretched between us all and out to every being, “It’s freeing because the world isn’t fixed like it was” you told me, “and the world isn’t fixed for other people either. The world is in part a world you have control over building.” You laughed about a comedy show where a person given the chance to make endless virtual realities makes their own neurosis again and again “so.. there is that”. I laughed too, without ever having seen the show I knew the story, only too well. You were with us though, and we were with you, and together we were learning to look at things from new angles, we were playing, and the plasticine was reality itself, well, maybe.
Physical effects occurred too. The shaking, pains, heart bombardment. The shuddering energies that take over us and compel us in strange directions. Something snapped. Although I yearned more than I can say to do so from my space of all this, it was so hard to reach you. In fact I had no idea if that were possible, or how. Although so many of us were on this path before that moment, had experienced related things before… honestly, none of us fully understood what had been unleashed. I was unafraid, most of the time, but the fear was real and was out there, was in you. At times these processes would become cruel and intense. I would shudder and shake for hours, sometimes in agony, sometimes in ecstasy, find myself on spontaneous vision quests, become nothing, nothing, a tunnel of light. I would feel vast electrical energy ripped from me, through me, was ever sensitive to every strange fluctuation in the world as I encountered it, heard wings all around me and rolling through me, dissolving. I had no idea how to integrate some of this with the rest of it or with the other world, the familiar world. While I didn’t understand, I felt fairly able to navigate the space I found myself in, like it was my natural state. I was consistently told by my nearest imagination beings that this was the case. I don’t think it was so with you, and the space you were in. I checked these sensations with you, and with a few others, and some were the same, and some were very different. In my sensitive state when the shift happened the energy shaking off you felt so heavy, so drastic. I understood how, after a time, you seemed to react. For a while we grew distant and you seemed to avoid us. I did spells to help you find a way out of the mires. I tried to be there for you but I also kept my distance.
We took up playing mbira together, I after you. We explored together again. You came back, tentatively. You were, once again, so soft and silly and wise. Things were calmer, and we felt almost like veterans of some crazy battle, aware, underneath, that fighting could erupt again at any moment. Some of the spaces we explored then were so vast, so ultimate, so indescribable. We could come out of them collectively and smile, say “that was a deep one”… humm a little. Giggle. Go back in. It was gentle and simple and amazing that it was available to us. We were gentle with it, as gentle as we could be. It was more than we would ever get to grips with or really know, and we were all very comfortable with that. When the tides turned yet again they turned for us all, but so heavily for you. The help you seeked backfired, it chased you out of this life, and it is so scary to say that because it feels like something one is not supposed to say. But it is so. Seeking help is a wonderful thing, but it is fraught, as everything, all healing is, with danger. Snakes are doctors, and doctors are snakes. Every human being knows that. Nyangara. Up on the mountain. May that snake be gentle with your spirit, heal the process that was you. Send you on your way with love.