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I Write, I Love, I Heal, Heal, Heal! F*ck Being Realistic | Baby I’m a Mystic

Written last night – streaming my soul fire into language. Perhaps you relate or resonate. All healing begins on the soul level. This is a universal truth. The energetic body is real and powerful. This is my story.

Image credit: Unknown

The sun ☀️ kissed my face, so I took a picture. Mystic Miko style ❤️🔥🖤😎😇🌟

Yeah baby. I’m owning it. I have grown beyond tired of people offering suggestions of what to do with my life. As if I am not doing something spectacular or don’t know what I’m doing, lol. But I do learn a lot from their views. There’s a lot I don’t know, I mean my schooling has been untraditional to say the least, but I’ve known things beyond my years and any formal education that I set aside for a long time until they burned in my body. And here we are.

I see timelines and probabilities. I can feel mental and emotional states and intention with my body. I’m extremely cerebral, a lovely loft to hide in, but I build things there. Then I can pivot like I invented it, because mostly I’m detached except for the Now and whatever my heart brings to it. I built this huge project only to let it go and make something of itself so I brought no old mind to it. I have cycled through many minds. My incredible sense of brokenness became a vast openness, I have hovered outside my body while in it, I have looked through people’s eyes through the Ethernet through their words so I could share their love when I couldn’t feel my own, remind them of theirs, and teach myself again how to love as others love and through careful presence, begin to reMember my own love. It is the most important thing a Mother can do. I always wanted to be a Mother, ever since my chubby little brother with his arm rolls and spikey hair. A person can make a person? Magick.

I stopped listening to things that seemed contradictory to me from how people applied the Bible, one of my first books of stories, illustrated like a comic. I already knew when I read the stories, I was not quite like Eve, but they only had Eve with Adam. They never talked about Lilith. I stopped listening because I heard that there are only two commandments…

To love the lord thy God with all thy heart and with all thy soul and with all thy mind, and

To love thy neighbor as thyself.

Simple enough! Away with devotions. Lol. We have singular focus.

Here’s the thing though – who is thyself? How did you come to know yourself as the person you are? Did a culture groom you to be part of its hive? You would always wake up eventually and every time you incarnate, your cells are programmed with new information, your heart sends out electromagnetic currents that communicate with the other toroidal fields around other hearts, and then you wake up, bit by bit, or in a big burst. And you do it all over again in some other way, in some other world, splitting off and expanding as is the nature of Life.

This is the point of no return. And also the point of return. Because as above, so below, in all directions, like prisms. When I saw the prisms in the movie Pollyanna, I saw prisms in people. I knew if I said what I saw even in my untraditional childhood I would suffer for it. I remembered suffering for speaking. Past lives cycle through my mind as I walk and interact, between the day and the dream world where I travel and remember, and bring understanding to all timelines I have been a part of through my own energetic form, visiting each pivotal moment and shifting my response.

Eventually, I would no longer be able to hide in the dream world. Eventually, I would not care to be understood, but I would savor a shared understanding deeply.

Eventually, I would cherish my life and love so fiercely I would burn through the protective shell that hid the truth of who I was, the truth that earned me jealousy and sabotage and betrayal, dismissal, and emotional neglect and contempt. Eventually, I would feel safe to be soft, to be sweet, to be silly, to make some new kind of love to share. Meanwhile I hugged myself in the mirror as a lonely little girl. I cared for others like I wished to be cared for. I looked into my fears, into my darkness. I pushed myself to find the light switch without fear and I noticed my sight changed when I did not fight my fears but sat with them, let them teach me about love.

I’ve known how people and machines are programmed since I was 4. It’s all communication intention and language at the highest levels. We also, our god selves which are our creative nature, create in our own image – things filled with everything we are but cannot see, and everything we think we make, because beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

Yes, I can design, I can code if I need/want to, I can do a lot of things because I like to know how – but with every single one of these things comes a deep insight into the human condition and this is not a technical skill. This is mastery. I did not go through all this holy hell and deep water to split myself again into a role that does not appreciate everything I bring, much of which is inexplicable because it is experiential, where the truth of soul lies, and inspired action springs from, where deception cannot contaminate through language, a popular form of spell casting because with our words we breathe our soul fyre into life and with our ignorance we create chaos that we cannot help ourselves out of without external intervention. This is chaos magick. This is why I started talking about the heyoka empath, the sacred clown, the trickster, because those of us who have seen and felt the pain of evil intent and commanded a greater love out of ourselves, we know how to speak to all the levels of consciousness that seek healing, we know how to touch the heart and short circuit the mind, and because we have known oppression and isolation and psychological bondage and refused to become it, we can be the soul mirror for liberation, we can sit with the imprisoned and share their pain, and help them accept their love. It’s all an inside job, the external is merely a reflection; in every slave, I can see myself, in every master, I too can see myself. If we are all connected, individual expressions of a greater consciousness, then we can invoke the universal nature in each other with intention, and set the world afire heart by heart instead of through Mother Earth.

I have not come this far to get by. I realize people don’t know how hard I push myself through this, to stay in some step with life as I feel that the earth is not only beneath my feet but I am the earth beneath my feet, that the air is not only all around me, but it is me – standing my ground as I can stand, while also letting life take me with its currents, sinking into the pain, melting into the joy, breaking my own spell of silence by turning myself inside out, turning my stumbles into dances one awkward practice at a time, until I pulled the rhythm of my own soul to surface in my cells from the belly of the soul where God rests. Carl Jung knew this. He said modern man does not find God because he doesn’t look low enough. We have to marry the mind with the heart and the soul on a subatomic particle level, and because of the nature we are beginning to remember, it requires only willingness, openness and curiosity. The rest flows from the magick that is the architecture of the human being in full motion, and what a joy it is!

As I keep seeking to be true to expressions of my own rich love, slowly I am able to receive love also, and magick brings it to me in the tiniest ways until I can receive more, until I remember how great my capacity is to experience it all and let it overflow out of me to heal, to inspire, to enjoy, to appreciate, to savor, to create, to wield my sword of truth with loving care, and then to comfort and restore. There is no room for hate in this flow. I’ve known incredible hate, and I could not understand it. The things I’ve done to keep love alive inside me came from the realization that it was all I had that would never leave or hurt me. And I wanted everyone to have that constance that can never be taken away.

Now tell me to get a job. Not until I have finished my golden love project, put the pieces of the books together that I wrote in pieces, and gift them to you. My job is to follow the flow that has saved me, to eat when I’m hungry, sleep when I’m tired, and dance when I want to feel freedom through music and movement.

We are a harsh world no more. First there will be some reorganizing to do, and it might shock some, but then we will make space for joy. It’s my belief that a true warrior not only swiftly brings an end to an unavoidable conflict but heals and restores after, and sets the once wounded free.

We have a world with room for beauty and grace and elegance, and adventure, exploration, invention, celebration and a joyful noise.

So to end with a little story in my words – back to Lilith. Do you know she was before Eve, and that she rode Adam and he whined to God, so God made him a new woman from his ribs, and sent Lilith to the demons, and she said fine, they do pleasure better anyway! Lol. Well, in my journeys I have been told by people I reminded them of Lilith. Sounds about right. Hahaha. I finally channeled her in the mirror and it was pretty fun.

These characters are all aspects we have inside us anyway, to the extent that we can see it.

Well in practical matters, I like magick too. Tomorrow morning I see my cancer surgeon to make some beneficial collaborations to help support those with breast cancer from the things I have learned.

You gotta know, for me to be this far out I have to have wicked strategy skills. 😉 Wicked problem management is its own specialty!!


I have to remind myself, this is where I shine ✨🌟 after all I been through I see with my in*sight – incredible things actually – insights that save relationships and lives because I can go into the subconscious dark of the soul blind and feel for where love is hiding, and sit and wait until my body says it’s time to light a fire and clear a path. Then I surrender to that fire that will pierce mind and awaken heart, usually with words but in any way. I have burned so long in that dark to purify my heart, that my gift is reflection and illusion. I feel long before my mind will make words out of it, and by then my nervous system has already harmonized to project the optimum presence for benefit of all present. I am always called to heal, as I heal. I think it’s a fallacy that healers are never sick. Healers need to know sickness and pain! Healing happens at the soul level. The rest is our dance with nature.

This is why it is not so much what we do but how we feel about it that is the real magick. The ability to create energetic space for intentional transformation/transmutation, and then release the creation to the will of the All for manifestation of the highest good without personal attachment, and give thanks that it is complete – this is magick. This is prayer.

It is not easy to walk the worlds and be in this one but no one else can be me for me 😉 this is also why I value a good team to help cover all the bases. Together is better anyway.

To quote the old movie One True Thing, Less is not more, more is more. The more the merrier. Even though sometimes I need to disappear in some way for a little while.

One time during walking meditation I mustered the courage to ask who am I? Karma was the answer. Karma is blind, there is no intent to harm, there is only a vessel for reflection of truth, and this truth doesn’t come in words. It comes in an energetic wave that sets off a chain reaction of events that travel or tunnel through our quantum reality, like the butterfly effect but personal.

Mystic Miko


Last Minute Enrollment for Hope*Writers till May – Message Based Writers

Check out the link below, I am a member. Last Day till May for enrollment. Consider this a sneak preview of May!

This is a great community for message-based writing. You can also start your own hope writer circle, which is my intention – specifically focusing on how to use writing to heal for individuals and groups.

We help smart creative writers like you do your work forever without losing your mind.

(Yes the above is my affiliate link – another topic on my list – sacred economy!) – Miko

Hope*writers, golden titanium chopsticks, a gold rose to remember the healing elixir of a golden heart in any kind of weather.

Hindsight is 2020. Decade Change. Writing. Eating. Healing.

A pretty dinner for me.

This blog post is the second I started tonight. Lots of poetry in the other one.

Then I thought, oh I’m in deeper waters than I intended. Not a new feeling lol. Finish that deep dive later!

Oh there’s my food, in a photo, and I have not eaten it! I’m so dedicated to my creative writing craft. (Craft of eating too though!)

Who cares is a question I ask myself.

Or so what.

Who cares really about my still life photo? And that I get carried away creating.

Me, I do. This blog is for me.

Taking photos helps me focus attention and frame things in a pretty way. That teaches me to framing moments with thoughtful attention. Even if I get carried away.

Writing helps me understand more deeply by letting my big phat heart use my mind and fingers to express itself. I use stream of consciousness writing – thank you author James Joyce for that inspiration. Deep dive on that later.

When I stream words from my heart and don’t let my mind judge me – even for my judgments – I bring compassion to my spirit. I feel less like a volcano or pressure cooker, and more like the ocean and the air; not drowning in some big vastness but filling the vastness that is the deep unknown, swimming in it like an ethereal dragon, calling for healing of all who suffer, daring to hold dissenting opinions and daring to love it all, but finding that it is not always so easy to be like water when in human form.

When I stream my consciousness in words and images, I call parts of me back that could not bear my own reflection. I let her speak her deepest truth, defiant to fear, quivering from it and willing it to be consumed as it threatens to consume me.

In the Belly of fear is fear; some aching desire turned cold, a long ways off, it seems, from the fierce love of a hopeful heart.

I saw terror’s underbelly when I sat with my fears in the vast void in my quietest inner space and wondered if I had begun to love them.

This blog is for me. I’m a content creation machine! Haha.


PS: This blog is for you too. If you wish, and if the golden thread is something that shimmers. Thank you for sharing your time with me.

PPS: This post is with thanks to Betty. Sweet spirit, I promised I would post today and look at me Now! Grin. I am very careful with promises but this one seemed golden. Like the thread of forever that runs through the essence of our being. Big love always.


Ghosts of What Was Me #poetry

Authenticity I say; if there’s sunshine then there’s rain, and in the honest tears, Love’s quiet refrain.


Crying and crying and crying,
bitterly, resentfully,
mourning some kind of loss
while a rhythm pulses in my ears,
pushing out what was,
bringing to the surface
the hate I could not bear before,
cleansing what was not love,
letting it crash on the beach of mind;
The soul has no deadlines,
Knows no time.

Bring my soul up to my body,
Introduce it some new rhymes,
Make it shiver with sensation,
Make it make some sense of time –

If it loves me let it know me,
While I dance inside my dark,
Let it press itself against me,
Let it leave its fucking mark.

Tears stain my freckled cheeks,
Dry and leave their salty ink,
Wash away all trace of sorrow,
Disappear then down the sink.

We’ll smile again tomorrow,
Life ebbs and flows and hey,
We could never love the sunshine
If it didn’t storm, okay?

It’s perfectly unreasonable
To let love be so unbound,
To let death be a better honor
Than to make a burdened sound –

Let us rail against a system,
Deeply broken, richly flawed –
And let us put first the practical,
Make of purpose a new god –

And when we sit inside our weakness,
Let us silent drink the bitter brew –
Cuz what’s the point of loving
If it’s just me and not you too?

It takes god a year to answer,
I said hey if you’re around…
And you’ve got love that likes to listen…
Next year the god particle was found.

Meanwhile, with the passion of the wretched,
Those damn fools who choose to fall,
I sank into the depths of barely living,
Hoping to feel my soul’s call –

And the dis-ease grew inside me,
The distance from it all –
I felt the cold, the fire –
The beauty of the fall –

I loved in ways some said were wretched,
Every moment bared my soul,
Surrendered to the unforgiving,
Made the broken bits my whole –

Preached some kind of understanding,
Made some peace with death,
Laughed in the face of unknowing
While I also held my breath.

I dare you bring my soul into my body,
Call me from the cosmic realm,
Where parts of me still linger,
Buffering my big heart’s overwhelm –

I couldn’t tell you till I’d done it,
How a body can house a soul,
And a heart can be so broken,
While its person looks so whole.

And so what, comes that rejoinder,
Because we’ve learned not to care
When it comes to our inside broken,
The things hidden beyond what’s there.

And oh no, comes then the chorus,
Our world’s becoming broke,
But let’s go on like we used to,
Wave it off or drink or smoke –

Meanwhile there is a stretching
Of the things we cannot see,
And the fragments of the broken
Cut the hearts of you and me –

When we see beyond the color,
When we’re shattered just enough,
We open to a love that’s tender,
Gentle as it is tough –

And our souls make some new rapture –
Imagining a bliss,
Coming and going,
Life giving us a kiss –

With its kiss comes the shivers
Of a soul in body again
Of a love that keeps on spinning
While we dance inside its rain –

My tears are dried now,
Careful focus on my words,
What do they say about my loving –
Silence is all she heard.

Let me sit here in that silence,
Take my place beside the damned,
Because Love’s the destination
And there’s a bloody traffic jam

Meanwhile times a ticking
And all I hear are words,
And the rainy pitter patter
Of water on windows,
Falling out of skies like dying birds.

What’s a poem from the fog,
From in between the cradle and brave,
Where the storm is never ending,
And I’m a soul too late to save.

We are all for the heaven,
Far too pretty for the hell –
Put off our present for a future,
And fall down time’s well.

It’s a fucked up kind of loving –
I must be missing something here,
I must be awfully bad at giving,
And receiving too, I fear –

Just fly, they say from their rich living,
They don’t see the heavy chains
That hold me to Earth’s center
While my spirit flies and flies again –

It’s an impossible living,
If I’m honest I feel scorn,
When they speak of ghostly living,
Who have never been reborn –

Oh and I seek a higher way –
It’s more acceptable to say,
Than to lean into the tumble,
Find the obstacle the way –

Lean into the gritty living,
So the tired can feel some love,
My heart is way too heavy,
Messy too – go get a glove

Sometimes it’s much too heavy
And in spite of all the pain
That we turn into sensation,
Tears rain on my face again

And the biggest pain of all
Is that no one seems to see
That inside something so pretty
Hide the ghosts of what was me.


#poetry #poet #poem

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change Journal

Good Morning World, It’s Me Again #change

Leather charm bracelet - Believe, Live - Om
Believe. Live.

On my Facebook page banner, I said that healing was in progress and I was blogging here – but I realized it had been some time since I’d blogged here!

Sometimes the moments blur into each other and it feels like time is doing a different dance than usual. I think that’s the time of the healing place.

But in any case Good Morning World!

It is me again, but a changed me – since change is constant, and if we seek certainty we can find that alongside uncertainty, then I am still Me but not quite the Me I was yesterday or will be tomorrow.

This sweet promise of change against constancy gives us the freedom to change, at any time, whatever we will; if we will it truly – if we have developed our will to be our servant, and in the act of service we ourselves become both master and servant of the moment, spreading out in every direction our will to not only love but to embody the love we know so well, so deeply.

Change is freedom to be something else! Certainty is the stage that Change dances on, moving, leaping, twirling, jumping from one moment to another, knowing that beneath its feet is the ground of the infinite, which to our knowledge, is the certainty that holds the mystery of our change.

As the saying goes, may we be the change we wish to see in our world.

Good morning fellow wholehearted human being! May your change be magical. <3

Photo Credit & Words: Miko Hargett