Typed the morning of Saturday February 11th, 2006 after a bath with chamomile and frankincense. The moon waxes full tomorrow.

I can not help but feel responsible for last nite's events. I am fully able to respond to last nite's events.

I'm beginning to read him with absolutely clarity. I can consistently feel what he's feeling. I believe this to be possible because we have a connection and because the nature of our beings is honesty. In fact it is amusingly simple to feel what he feels. We now know each of us has this extra sensory communication, and we take it as common place, expected, almost unheeded anymore.

But recently something has been activated within me and I am taking in far more information than the extreme empathetic communication we have come to take for granted. The feelings I receive from him have now shape. They have words - often times full sentences - the sentences originate in my womb and sound like my own voice. Or the feelings have images - quite unlike my usual imaginings born of the mind, but entire scenes downloaded in a flash whose detail remains astute no matter how much time lapses - much like a memory recovered. However the most riveting development in our psychic communication is my Knowing. When the shape the feelings I receive from him fill me like hot bath water, relaxing every ... thing, and rooting me so deeply in ... something I don't presently have a word for, filling me bigger than me with certainty - I Know. And there is no need to confirm and there is no need to communicate because I Know.

And now, this morning after a chamomile and frankincense bath, I am feeling rather foreign to myself. Because of what I am response-able to last nite. And because I can feel myself rearranging, as I consciously drew down shape into myself from the chaosphere, this rearranging, likewise wishing the best for him as well, summoning those same powers unto him (had I known it would take so instantly - our connection now so strong!). But he is a novice and what happened last nite with him fainting and his reality turning into a question mark are the growth pains of a child reaching toward outer space.

What I am response-able to: I saw his blood sugar drop, breathing become shallow and heart rate hesitate. But let me be clear so we are not trying to feed from empty cupboards; none of these things dropped to a level abnormal to a healthy human being. His machine is not faulty in any way! The blood sugar was like any normal lull in one's day, easily sprung by a ripe nectarine. The breathing was shallow like the respiratory response to Los Angeles traffic. And the heart never stopped, but rather slowed down to the rate normally associated with rest. Sleep. Mediation. In essence, teddy went into an altered state, but not a dangerous one. Unless of course one forgets to bend the knees on the way to the nite club floor.

Recently he and I have been discussing our innate respect for one another's powers - he being Earth and Water, I being Air and Fire. We each have expressed an interest in learning from the other their assets to help one another Become. And I forget that learning his Earth (to ground, build foundation, find structure) is the precise exercise, I am convinced, that has made it possible to shape my extra sensory information, while his lessons of Air (communication, multi-layered reality, chaotic center) can feel like hell breaking loose for him. And require a spiritual faith to work from safely.

But as raw foodists we know that the body's only concern is it's integrity. It's only function is to maintain, repair, fortify itself for your housing. And in that, it will veto any circumstance in your world that might lead to self-destruction with all of it's might. So it is a compliment when the turmoil finds you. It means you are strong and able to sustain a growth spurt.

Seven days ago I arrived in the Bahamas needing a back massage. The shoulders this neck have been holding on tight and it hurts to be me around my upper body right now. Seven days later, now in Los Angeles, the love of my life falls to the floor three times before we make it to the parking structure, phones his children at one a.m. to tell them he loves them and asks me to drive him to the hospital. I'm glad he decided there was no one who could care for him in between those white walls. I'm glad he stopped wanting to know "what's wrong" with him.

I have a half-full well right now and I feel a little dry. I don't know how I can teach, guide or even assure the health of myself. But it is here. The growth. And I am complimented by the discomfort and determined to go all the way. I still need a neck massage. I might not get one. I will grow anyway.

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