Knockin’ on the Temple Door

God Bless You. Goddess Bless Me.

When I gaze upon You, yes I revere you, I adore You. I look upon your visage as that of a mere mortal trying to glimpse a deity without being blinded or condemned.

When I bow at Your feet and kiss them, it is with a sacred solemnity. When I come close to the Temple doors to breathe in your Aura, to feel the tickle of your hairs on my lips, the damp dewy pleasure as I drink the nectar of the gods, it is as Sunday communion for the parishioner. You are my Pastora. My Confessor. My Spiritual Awakening. My Hope. My Gratitude.

But, when I look through Your green orbs into the depths of that endless Sea, it is all of You I want: The middle aged woman, the frightened child on her own for the first time, the nail-biting girl so far from where and whom she dreamed in her Walt Disney-naivete on where she’d be,  who on occasion needs an Ambien or to be gently rocked to sleep, deep pulsing nurturing rhythmic hungers sated, thirsts slaked. Caress your soft, mortal shoulders, kiss those gentle rose-water lips, stroke tus mejillas as We are One. Hold you, be with You. Walk Together. Along the shores of our Life. Juntos


I often told You and You still don’t believe me when I rub up against your swollen lips, thick with excitement as You hold my head in a loving and teasing thumb-index finger stroke that drives me wild, when You awaken your parts with mine and gently invite me in, it’s Love. Not sex. I don’t have this stamina based on drugs. Or youth. Or even the fleeting of romantic and corporeal desire.

Love is Love. Profundo. Abiding. In You and Without You, Love.

Pax et Lux. Siempre.

photo© courtesy of Cheryl Perez Chatzis


Yeah. Right

SO, I read your short note.

To the point.


With a door prize. My bracelet returned. Thanks for playing.

Did I do good, Mammi?
Or, maybe I failed? I pressed too hard. Maybe the note to your dad and your sister was the last straw. Or, given your months of stoney deadly silence they simply forced you to act beyond the cowardice I have always perceived in you, the child’s maturity level in a woman’s gorgeous figurine. You speak all the right words but all your actions – and that of your poisonous friend – show me you a. like the toxic world in which you live and b. I was right to not capitulate to your manipulative, inappropriately written not spoken, demand, ultimatum.

“As I already explained, I need to be on my path,” you say.
Ah, no. You held our relationship at tearful gunpoint to your demands that I, once again, externally compensate for what you cannot reconcile within. Now the question is do I send you the loving gifts I had intended for Christmas? Do I send Papi a Red Sox World Championship hat as planned if they won? Do I send the necklace, the cd, all with ‘friendship’ when you revised “Eternal Love” with a terse “Glad we reconnected,” and no sign off with love.

Why did you give so much, so intensely, so quickl? I’ll never understand how I came to this place but I also know I was pissing blood and cornered by a woman knowingly had me against the ropes. My wish is I could play Sigmund Freud and question you out of your instinctive, territorial, jealous manipulations – not malevolent just bad habits. I would love to know why you could not distinguish you the nubile nymph drawing her professor away from his then wife from the middle aged mom who was with a man who loved and saw only her and was maybe a little too needy in trying to move forward with his life.

Now, in the wake of the wreckage – your only communication with me to first remove me from social media then block me, more passive aggression like your bestie posting you both on my birthday knowing I’d see just to confirm her clutches and your compliance – I am left wondering if I ought parcel out your gifts to others who can hear or, still send to you in loving friendship

Too bad.

We had such a promising sunrise on the waters of the Summer of our Life together.

We blew it. But, you blew it more. Fear wins. I lose.

I Love You. &iempre.




Today is the first day after the full cycle of time apart equal to the time We, You & I, were together.

Today is the birth of a new day. Yes, I imagine after our Cupid-inflected love we had conceived that beginning to birth together.

Maybe even in the Advent flesh and blood, The Boy of whom we both dreamed and uttered aloud.
I can still at times see your written words, feel the shock and awe, wonder at the why of what I chose that led to destruction instead of creation, on what I might have spoken to tease out Truth, ease in soothe, raise awareness and release pain.

Last night in the early a.m. hours I imagined you telling me You found what you want. I disagreed. But before it led to more conflict I asked ‘Is this what We want to keep doing?’ You and I sat silently. You faded away into the dark of night and the chirping crickets and croaking coquis. Love is, after all, Still Love.

Today is the Greatest Day.



Only the Beginning.

The Six Poisons


What does A Woman Need?

“The six poisons: A vital aspect of internal purification that Pattabhi Jois teaches relates to the six poisons that surround the spiritual heart. In the yoga shastra it is said that God dwells in our heart in the form of light, but this light is covered by six poisons: kama, krodha, moha, lobha, matsarya, and mada. These are desire, anger, delusion, greed, envy and sloth. When yoga practice is sustained with great diligence and dedication over a long period of time, the heat generated from it burns away these poisons, and the light of our inner nature shines forth.” – Pattabhi Jois teaching

“Keep looking if you get rejected. Move on to other prospects,” it is said in job searching. Should we do this in relationships, too? We do. But should we? Or ought we look at a single prospect and fight for it? Then, this leads to the question of the above yoga practice and the pamphlet here, challenging my attachments.

3 July 2013
34 days

Alma, I miss you terribly and I am attached to you with desire. I don’t think, however, this is negative. You are a Truth. This pamphlet also represents two of the many conversations this man has taught me. (The middle passage is more of a report, I believe, as this is a ‘bulletin.‘)

As I re-read through another source, conversations with Krishnamurti that have been transcribed, I thought of you and want to share. They bring me some awareness of the way I perceive, judge and dream but never actually reveal to you. I know I bring to you a continual, large volume of words via text, email and phone. I apologize I do not do so more in Spanish. But, I am a communicator. It’s my nature. I keep trying even though not economical with words.

When you and I reconnected in January I was thrilled. Yes, I was very excited you were divorced. I didn’t know what to imagine except seeing you. Slowly, sexual feelings arose. I do not recall them from our college years. I think then I only adored you innocently but it was Love then, too. It was Love January 15, 2013. It is always love with you. You are Special. The Moment from the first note you sent me on “Caminante” I felt that all my Life has led to this: A Journey With You. We seemingly began twenty-five years ago, me seeing you and finally meeting four long years later But, I also draw great joy from my awareness of this Truth, to me: Our birthdays. When I was born, I ‘arrived.’ 28 days later, You. Since then it was just Time. Waiting.

Why did I write to you in my hour of need twenty two years ago? Why did you reply? Why confess your self, your shame? How have we managed to remain connected? It’s not chance. It’s choice.

You spoke of waiting ninety days. Then you wanted to see me. Then I introduced you to Skype. We moved quickly. But, it all felt and feels so right! You don’t know how intensely and quickly you already were affecting change in me, though, Bebe, to be a better man! Real lessons from a perspective I admire, respect and heard. I was a student ready for the lesson. I guess without asking, I soon decided we were life partners and inspired by your intense flame of love, longing and promise to me. We seemed to forge a partnership over these last few months pushing each other, daring each other, growing together. Now, you have chosen to separate your path. I was naive to your needs, emotional and psychological. I took for granted this Vision of A Woman, This Wonder, this New Age Hippie Chick who had come back into my life to be everything I wanted and believe I need.

I am sad and disillusioned now after a rocky set of missteps from my leaking anger you witnessed and also experienced. I was selfish while convincing myself you were ok with things I needed at this crossroads of my life, only intellectually accommodated your feelings, deciding you were ok or should be. It was what you needed to solve as Mi Alma searched within Her Self.  I didn’t judge you as ‘open’ or ‘closed’ minded. It was simply part of the process. Did I assume that what You presented on the surface was The Honesty of the lake-depths down deep in Tu Corazon? Of course. How naïve and short-sighted I was, caught up in my eager Christmas morning feelings around You.

As any Fool, only with the crisis at my doorstep did I hear. Only after you left me did I hear what you had been telling me and I had been resisting, lashing out as part of my defensiveness. My need to be around my ex and desire for my dogs was about fear, not moving on more than anything positive. All I wanted – You – I had chased away saying I don’t want to come for my birthday, . . .we should end if we can’t communicate. Nothing impeccable about those choices in words, was there? I wasn’t listening to or reading your honesty, your open heart and did not remove my ego to trust in you, that we could work together. Now, you don’t want to and this crushes me.

When I experience my own toxic emotions lleno de expectation you are with someone else already, or when I chase seedy and taboo fantasies, it’s about not possessing you. It’s about not witnessing your incredible female sexuality envelop me, surrendering to you and watching You slowly let your walls down to truly let  Me in. Once in my life I was foolish to think a man might truly satisfy a woman, that a man could comprehend a woman’s depth, her power. Once, I wanted to control and believe I could be given that control when all along it is I who wants the woman, You, to control – to let go in You and just Be. In that choice, I know we’d both find a push and pull to carry and be carried, to rule and be ruled. Perfection. Like Theseus in Oedipus, I know already without being a woman who has better sex. Where once my ego believed I was the reason, I guess now I like to think I am some small part of her – You – participant, witness and maybe a giver of pleasure.

I cringe with the jealousy that I was not enough to satisfy You. When I slip into the darkest of places, you picking someone up in a supermarket and having him in the back seat of your car or being ravaged by multiple men, quietly collecting yourself and going home with them dripping out of and all over you, no visible expression on your face except an eerie calm, I come to see my jealousy is in that female power, that even in a group the men are duped to think one way not realizing who is running the show. How a woman has such might and yet also the ability to dwell deep within her most private, sacred spaces to heal emotions, as Robert A. Johnson in We discusses. How inadequate we men are, emotionally unruly. Maybe you can’t truly own your own power and accept my limitations. Maybe it is self-esteem for you. You cannot fathom when I want to bow down to your Sacred Temple door with gratitude, I am not abandoning my own power, my own strengths – simply holding yours in reverence. And, when I think of you succumbing to another or others, when I imagine you being goaded to be atrevida and tremendita then building off those impulses with another, it is not mere jealousy – it is inadequacy. I helped you spring forth, awaken long dormant or maybe always forbidden desire. Yet, I was not violent and aggressive enough to handle your appetites, not compliant and resilient enough to let you be in charge after the sheets were washed and the bed made, in the civil arena.

So, I squelch out what you might say if you come back to me after satisfying those needs. Yet, I love you so. I want you to be happy.  Do I truly love Her as I claim? Would my ego be able to reunite with her knowing she had chosen other people, that I hadn’t been enough? The answer is Yes. Difficult but yes. It’s your Heart that matters most to me. All those fantasies come down to missing You, you not wanting Me, banishing me from the Temple, the Altar and shutting the doors but banishing me from most of all from your Heart.

Alma, you said you don’t want me to suffer, that I should be happy. I am happy with you. I suffer from silence, from not knowing why you won’t talk with me. Separation is painful now even if you have other reasons like time spent with family, gaining economic independence or what may be your reasons, none of which I know beneath the depths of those sad, salt-green lake eyes, so wide with knowledge, love, pain and fear. I do not accept that merely the experience of my anger and my relationship with the ex are your only reason for not continuing. In short, without wanting to offend, I don’t believe you have an allergic reaction to anger. I believe your ‘hurt’ and silence are forms of unexpressed anger, fear. Why don’t you want to manage conflict where we both made missteps? Is it pride? Are you staying hurt to avoid deeper examination of either yourself and/or us? Or you know what else is going on and won’t say. It is too vulnerable to talk or to speak with me because you are too in love with me as I am with you, right? You say you feel pressure from me or confused but it is you trying to find the quiet within to follow the Truth, Us, right? So, you steel yourself away from showing me emotions, intimacy?

It is possible to speak intimately again, Alma. I think we may speak even more deeply, as what you might write in your diary. I love talking with you, being with you even with these obstacles. I know you feel the same with me.

My ultimate need as an Individual is that I foster a spiritual path that is merged with my human appetites and attachments. I cannot be detached. You are the Perfect Partner: Friend; Lover; Teacher; Student; Witness. Adventurer. Journey Woman. Not necessarily geography but I think that you and I have a World to discover together. Does it make any difference to say you are the first person I have had this desire with in my whole life?

Let’s witness each other, share the path and try to stay on it together. Do you want to excavate and explore with me, Alma? Are we a pair to deeply slowly go into every physical, emotional, spiritual and psychological cavity with total surrender and commitment to the other at the same time letting the other person be? Is shared path as witness to what the other needs compatible with commitment?

I believe so. I do desire you in spite of this yogic message at the start reminder.

If You choose to never speak with Me again, I hope You Trust the Process, that You truly allow those 90 days of courtship and that You find a way to truly let someone in. Maybe WE can find a way to Trust the Process with each Other. 90 days. 🙂

As I work my way through my six poisons, hopefully We is not a delusion. I  seek The Truth with you next to me, Alma. From Living to Dying and beyond wherever that leads.

Yours &iempre.

What is Love to You?

“The love I feel is for all of God’s world. I know that every living thing is part of God and I feel a love deep with every person, and all tree, and flower, every bird, river, ocean and for all the creatures in all the world. I live my life in loving service being the best me I can becoming wiser in the perfection of divine truth, becoming happier in the joy of unconditional love.”

-author unknown

I LOVE this site: Read on towards Love v. Other Impulses Perceived as Love

Excerpted from . . .

I like this.
Thought you may, too. Excerpted from

  • Emotional Rollercoaster:
    One would hope that falling in love would be a peaceful, calm journey. Alas by falling in love you choose to forfeit your own ability to control your emotions. This one mere person now has the power to set your heart pounding into a frenzy with a soft, slow kiss; make you laugh uncontrollably to the point where you almost lose bladder control; make a simple, beautiful gesture which brings you to the point of almost shedding a tear out of sheer joy. You don’t need that kind of instability. That kind of erratic behaviour can’t be good for you.

Love: Don’t fall for it.

If you ever find that you have fallen in love with someone, please follow this advice: Inform an adult of your situation and plan a safe exit.
It’s for your own good.
Friends don’t let friends form meaningful relationships.

Although you are probably off now doing who knows what with whom knows ?
I guess I am having a day less interested in that flight of fear-filled fantasies as much as what they represent – the hurt behind them. You don’t want me. And, then, creeping in is some weird negative energy sort of hoping you are suffering, depressed and stuck.

But, that won’t last. I just am hurt. Thought you might want to know but oh, that’s right. You removed me from your social media circles now, too. Funny, in the ‘before time’ when a person stopped talking to you they just went away. Now, all these threads of connection we can maintain a link or a face or a tweet. And, each severing of an e-cord is a painful reminder that even though YOU said you’d wait for me and wanted to spend Forever together, either your Forever has a different egg-timer on it or . . .

See, You got scared. You had everything You ever wanted in me, from Me in You cock ‘n soul, rock ‘n roll, skin ‘n bones, emotional fullness, psychological depth and spiritual awakening to contour our physical sweat-ins. But, You are a nervous, medicated and anxious soul I could never quite quiet down to just Be, to just lay still with Me except for the last time. Then, far away so close you found a way to ramp up again, go back to live in Your head and Your fears and Your dread, then lay it all on me and tell me what I needed to do where and when.

I protested, albeit a bit out of sorts and not quite with the measure and respect a well-bred Princess deserves. But, your zero-tolerance for anything outside your boundaries of acceptable terms and definitions, your well-honed legal mind’s choice to both make and bend the rules at once, your inability to see your actions as provocative only my reactions as attacks. . .

All that justifiable You versus unacceptable Me.

And, I am alone. Again. Naturally.

You smile on in your social media toasts and poolside cheers, party to a suppressive friend who says ‘only say nice about others’ even as she doomed us. That’s the cul de sac you want. That’s the life you need. Who am I to disagree? I simply feel the Pain, knowing We, Siempre, is now lost, Siempre. Fear won. You lose.


The Nourishing Love

The Nourishing Love

I’m Jealous

I’m filled with celoso. Intenso. Yo estoy enfadado y quiero matar qualquier hombre que te mira, sin hablar de hablar contigo.

Would that make a difference? If I had been jealous in the extreme? Slightly?

Did I trust you too well?
Or, ought I have acted miffed when you were on those beaches spending time with another man, a friend?
Should I have been really concerned that you spent so much energy trying to hook him up with your friends?

Did you make yourself too loyal, head-over-heels in love with me so I simply basked in your glow and never considered. . .

You. That maybe you needed to feel loved, cherished and desired via something I find corrosive, ugly and destructive.
Jealousy. I want no part of it and yet, as I read about love and jealousy from the font of romantic knowledge, Scarlett Johannson, I read her saying, “I prefer a little jealousy.”


Something tells me over and over no matter the choices I might have made, could have made, should have made along the way, a Tu no importa. If I had passed the test of your needs to declare you number one without you claiming it, what would that have said about my backbone, constant compliance when you demanded of me. What ability to retain my own dignity, sense of worth and footing, would I keep? Why does it have to be about those power plays?

Was I oblivious to the games people in your country play and need as proof of love?

Or, maybe I  was starting to find you a bit oppressive and I cannot face that dato?Why only now do I feel you as the everything I had ever hoped for and like nothing I had imagined? That’s not true.

I felt that from the moment we first kissed. From the first time my hand held yours. From the first time I caressed your soft shoulder. Scarlett is wrong. You were wrong. I Love You and You simply couldn’t hold up with the kind of self-worth and belief one needs when a person is looking right through you to say, “I Love Everything about You.”