I’ve been thinking about Valentine recently. And of going back to teaching yoga and practicing reiki professionally. And, as a student of noticing synchronicities and small miracles, I of course, came across this letter I wrote while looking for something completely unrelated. It was written sometime in Fall 2013.

My Letter to Sunflower about my letter to Valentine

Hi Sunflower,

I have been going through my old journals looking for good bits of writing, and honestly, not finding a whole lot. I found this letter that I wrote but never sent to Valentine while she was at The Meadows. I wrote it about a year ago when I was making the transition from Flagstaff/Verde Valley to Phoenix.

I was so sad and missing everyone. I missed you so much! I am glad we are connected again. I know we were going through our own personal “Dark Nights of the Soul” – and I think we both had been, and are, evolving. I think that evolution is accelerating now that we have survived the darkness and are perhaps even willing to shed some light on it. I am really grateful for you. Thanks so much for being my friend.

Here’s the letter:

September 5, 2012

Dear Valentine, 

How are things going at the Meadows? Are you finding your way out of your darkness—or at least finding comfort there?

I want to know, I need to know, is it really possible? I’m finding my mind screeching to a halt—and I can’t tell anyone. I can’t tell Matagi, I can’t tell my friends (are they my friends?) in Flagstaff—they already shake their heads at me in bafflement like I’m some poor lost child —a pitiful thing. And I do feel like a child—a child who grew old before she expected it.

Anne Sexton is speaking to me in my ears. “It is June, I am tired of being brave.”

I enter nothing entirely anymore—not even this darkness.

It’s 12:15 in the afternoon. I arrived at work at 10AM and tried to think. Words seemed to bounce off my brain surface (which is a pepto-bismal-pink-colored trampoline).

I tried, I tried to catch them. Any words would do — to sort them, to produce them.

Nothing.

On my way to this coffee shop I felt like I was going to bust apart. I thought about Jonah, how I had been giving him reiki, and how he seemed to be getting something out of it (the treatments). Then, suddenly, he stopped communicating with me. I saw him in the street. He said that he told Emily that he was receiving reiki from me, and Emily, of course, suggested he see someone else—even though he was doing well with me. I haven’t seen Jonah since, and I’m angry at Emily—and all of my “friends” who announce the free yoga classes they go to while I’m teaching mine, or who announce that they’ve been using my ideas from my classes which they took for free and are now making money on them.

I’m angry at my “friends” at the yoga “community”.

It’s 12:20.

I need money but I can hardly imagine going back to work. I thought about dying today. I also thought about New York, about starting a band, about money, about Matagi and the shadow of Seraphina and our apartment in Phoenix, I thought about writing poetry, about how lonely I am, about moving to Portland or San Francisco, about just walking—like the Peace Pilgrim, I thought about Sunflower and her knees, I thought about how I am isolating and how I really hate ignorant people who speak loudly in public, I thought about how I’m grateful for my iPod and also how I can tell which people are angry Republicans just by the stupid expressions on their faces and the bland clothes they wear, I thought about how I try not to be so right about that (Republicans), I thought about how I’m sick of people. I thought about how I practically have a PhD in New Age, but I don’t feel like I’m New Age, I thought about how I’ve been doing yoga for 20 years—how I’ve been certified to teach for 16 years. It’s been 24 years since I’ve done heroin, 20 years since I’ve tripped on acid. I thought about how bored I am.

I thought about the slogan “This too shall pass”—and how it really will—but then what?

I thought about Weehawken—how my psychic landscape feels like Weehawken. Such an ugly place today.

That is all. I never sent it (probably good that I never did). One thing I noticed, that when I actually focus on a person or an audience, the writing gets better. The other thing is – I am so fucking glad I am not in that headspace anymore. Also, I have not reconnected with folks like Emily (who has repeatedly undermined me – whether consciously or not) and Wishbone (the great announcer of free yoga classes to my paying students) and a lot of the old yoga “community” (the competitive teachers). I’m so much happier being a student and incognito. I am also in touch with Jonah and realize our disconnection had more to do with his relationship falling apart and his health.

I am grateful to choose to be connected with people who see me as a strong woman, and I will not put up with petty bullshit and games (especially from people who should know better – or at least act like they know better).

I am so happy we are friends. And I am so happy we are writing.

So much love!!!

Holly

~ ~ ~ ~ 

One thing is certain. Life is a spiral, and some things circle round and round again – slightly different perspectives and nuances. 

Peace to you.

October 13, 2023 
Sunset Park, New York