The color is blue
Last night around ten PM I finished the beta-ready draft of what I am currently calling MY SHINING LIGHT. It’s a 48k novella, or very short novel, or, relative to what I usually write, a short story. It was supposed to be a submission to Ellora’s Cave by April 1. It’s going to be my virgin run on Lulu. I can’t really describe it much, because it’s still too close, but genre-wise I can tell you that it’s fantasy, maybe urban fantasy but I think that’s a more specific genre and I don’t meet it. It is, very definitely, male/male erotica in places, though I think overall the story is more "romance." There is gender bending in this story, and a great deal of shapeshifting. I’d intended it originally to be a light romp, but as I delved further and further into it, it became less rompy and more . . . well, Heidi, I guess, whatever that means. I sent it out to five betas last night, and told them they had until mid-June, so to take their time. In the meantime I will continue to wrestle with cover design, something which I am learning is possibly worth going through traditional publishing alone. But last night, I hit "send," wooted on my facebook status, then went to watch Roseanne with Dan.
In the middle of the night, I woke with a raging case of strep throat.
I’ve had strep quite a few times in the past two years, an interesting fact because I haven’t had tonsils since the seventies. That said, I’ve now had it with enough regularity and extremity that I know it upon arrival, and I do not fuck with it. I’m on high pain killers at the moment, and I have a doctor’s appointment at 1:30, by which time I won’t be surprised if I don’t have a fever of 103 and can barely stand. It also aggravates the fuck out of my hypermobility, and adding to this the fact that I am approaching my monthly waltz with my uterus, I would probably feel a lot better if a truck just hit me. But all this is nothing new, just aggravating. What has my attention is the mental track that ran behind the sore throat when I woke in the middle of the night.
What do you think you’re doing? You’re going to publish THAT?! THAT, with all that sex in it? With all that BOY/BOY sex in it? And you’re going to put YOUR NAME on it? You’re going to TELL PEOPLE? How can you do this? HOW CAN YOU DO THIS?
I don’t know where it came from, except that it was my head, and it wasn’t a dream or some psychic messenger. It was just me. Not the part of me, obviously, that wrote the story, or read it and thought it was pretty good–not, obviously, the part that read it and thought, "Yes, actually, I like that message, and it’s good, and I want this to have my name on it." But that voice, wherever it came from, was real, and loud, and it was very, very panicked. And it doesn’t surprise me at all that it rode in on the wave of a raging sore throat.
I have become, also over the past few years, a student of chakras. In fact, my first strep throat since 1977 came after a few months of reiki therapy where my chakras were routinely opened, cleansed, and recharged. I viewed the chakra experience initially with the same dubiousness that I am now viewing the laser treatments at my chiropractor. I get that it’s working, because I can see the results, but I don’t understand why, and it weirds me out. The chakras now, though, are less of a mystery to me, because I’ve been reading up, and because I’ve been talking to them. I mentioned earlier that I’ve been trying to talk to my pelvis. Now, it seems, I need to have a conversation with my throat.
I’ll let you do your own googling on chakras, though I’ll warn you that a lot of what you’ll find is weird. The general idea is that there are seven centers along your spine: root, sacral, solar plexus, heart, throat, third eye, and crown, and each controls different aspects of your body and your well-being. The lower half (below the heart) are more physical, worldly chakras, and the upper half (above the heart) are the more metaphysical and thinking chakras. I read a book which said most Americans are uncomfortable with their lower half, and at best access their solar plexus, but are embarrassed of their first and second, which have to do a lot with sex. (Blame our puritanical roots for that one.) Each chakra also has a color associated with it. Some energy healers can see them on people, but for most of us, it’s just handy for visualization. Chakras can be overactive, under-active, closed, or in very bad situations, reversed. They should, generally, spin clockwise, and in an even, energetic but not hyperactive motion, and they should spin together. This is the theory on which chakra healing is based: when chakras are out of balance or not functioning, it affects health.
Some of you will need to wander off at this point, and that’s fine. I’ll just tell you that I had horrible, horrible disfunction in my menstrual cycle for five years, that no one could cure it and it sapped all my energy, and when I went in for reiki (for depression and heartbreak, no less), as a side effect that disfunction disappeared. Lately my gig, though, is that my throat chakra keeps closing. I can tell whenever this happens because suddenly I can’t write, as in, at all, and sometimes it’s so bad that my fingers fumble on the keyboard. I don’t know enough about the way they work to tell if this is chicken or egg, but it’s worth noting that my neck is always sore, too, and I keep having pinched bits high on my shoulders, in that slope between your neck and the top of your arm. This is also the area, around my rotator cuff, which is causing the carpel tunnel-esque symptoms in my forearms and wrists, and now my elbows as well.
I’m sure there’s no coincidence that my throat chakra keeps closing, especially when I go to work on my first chakra and start to consider my second, the latter which is no doubt responsible for the "hey, let’s write m/m erotica!" idea. If I can’t communicate, I won’t be able to do this, and I’ll remain safe. Miserable and frustrated and incomplete, but safe. So, bring on the strep throat, the clumsy fingers, the sore neck–anything, really, to plug that sucker like a cork.
How to get out of this? Tricky. Obviously I need to have a chat with some panicked, sabotage-oriented part of myself, but really, the only thing that’s going to make her okay is to see that her fears aren’t going to manifest, or if they do, that we’ll live through them. Mostly I just have to keep pushing on, and keep opening myself back up. This is why the rooting in the pelvis, because while it makes me feel like I’m driving from the floor, it’s very powerful for orienting the body and soothing the mind. Energy from a root chakra can help open any others which have closed.
Also, there is the color blue.
The fourth chakra is, apparently, blue. I have been visualizing blue all day. I’m wearing blue earrings and tomorrow plan to go make myself a blue necklace. I’m going to take some flower essences and chat with Dan about ordering a few more, but mostly I’m visualizing blue. It’s amazing how well it works. It (and a lot of vicodin) helped in the middle of the night. I might make a digital painting of blue here in a bit. I know it’s a strange therapy, but it’s funny how, despite my raging sore throat and aching shoulders, when I sit for a few minutes and imagine my throat radiating blue, it’s hard not to open my mouth and sing, or start to hum.
Probably I’m going to nudge myself into more journal entries this week, some filtered, some public, and some entirely private, but the goal will be to keep talking, to push myself out of the fear and into strength and a sense of safety. I have to make this for myself. It isn’t about any of my stories in particular, or even, despite that screaming voice in the middle of the night, about the fact that I have clearly settled on the fact that I want to write about sex and sexually charged issues. It’s that I’m really starting to speak, not even from my heart, but from my root, and while this is very freeing, it’s very scary.
So at 1:30 it’s antibiotics and hopefully a steroid. It’s no longer a day trip to see Dan’s parents, but they’re coming here. It’s a lot of napping and music and flower essences. And it’s blue. It’s a bright, beautiful, throat-stirring blue.