I’m in a mood. I’m elsewhere, really – it’s been an intense evening, and it’s anything but over.

Work was work. I came home and organized – unpacked a few things, put others in their place…Mom is coming to visit tomorrow; first time she’s seen the house since we did our first walk through. And it was a mess and she hated it and she has only wished to see it transformed and livable. I tried to create that.

Then I settled in to finish a film I started last night. I was about 20 minutes into Babel, and as the story goes, communications got crossed and I had to stop for the night.

Tonight though, I rode through to the end. Touch and go as it was.

I knew what to expect. I fell in love with Amores Perros, and in like with 21 Grams – I’ve been down Inarritu’s road before, and it’s such a profound path.

Babel I know – historically speaking. The ancient tower that at first meant utopia – a pile of people all speaking the same language, all climbing closer to heaven. And then they say God grew angry, forcing them all to miscommunicate, throwing up emotional barriers, and it all came crashing down.

Yes, well, sounds familiar?
It doesn’t have to.

And anyway, it’s beautiful – the film. But that’s not the point of my story – not exactly. What I’m trying to say in a tongue-tied way is I had a bit of a reaction.
Chieko, the Japanese woman who’s a deaf-mute in the film, takes a tab of ecstasy with a crew of friends, and winds up in a nightclub. I’m not sure if it was a flashback experience, or my first hardcore shakti in a long long time, but as she swallowed the pill, so did I.

There’s a point on ecstasy – though it doesn’t always happen – that I would start to shake uncontrollably. It’s a bit like a seizure, only mine stays square in my jaw, rattling me into a present-focused submission. I used to love these moments; the serotonin would explode into my brain cells and I’d tremble and sigh and just fallllllll
into the music. Out of my head and body, and out into the cells of the world.
I know now those rattles weren’t just an indication that the drugs were kicking in. Those were my walls crumbling. Those were the moments when I had no protection, when any and every energy invaded my being and merged with my cells, sucking in parts of me and leaving hitchhiking trails of entities I had no interest in bonding with.
But I didn’t know. I didn’t know what energetic suicide I was experiencing. Because I didn’t want to.

A few months back, I was having a session with a healer, and he knew enough to put massive amounts of pressure on my jaw – or at least that’s what I felt, though he says it was just a gentle rub. This action sent me into the most dramatic shakedown – jaw through fingertips – that I had ever had; stone cold sober as I was. This time, though, I was protected. He wrapped me in a safe little bubble and I just explored. Floodgates of tears, stream after stream of ohmygodithurts, each aching to escape for days/months/years – I trembled for 15 minutes or more, until finally I could just breathe.

Tonight, watching Babel, I fell into one of my fits again; the first since the healing session. A little volcano released, and I paused the film, threw out my palms, and let myself shake. My jaw again. It’s like she wants to tell all these truths, to scoop out the insides and let this shit GO already, but there are no words.

Here I am, typing a novella, and there are
no words.

If we could just learn to talk to each other with hugs and loving glances, there wouldn’t be dozens of languages to separate us. We’ve created a false sense of division – this erroneous idea that we are in any way different or strange or out-casted – when, in fact, we’re all the same. Every word, every action, every tremble shows us giving and begging for love. God, it’s just that simple. But we choose to stay confused, we choose to create our dramas, and we choose to build our massive, infinite walls.

I smell like sage, my eyes are streaked with makeup, and I’m ready to sleep for a decade – but I’m not pretending tonight to be anything other than…who you are as well. It feels good to have a little clarity.

And it feels so good to just Be Love.